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dutchvanwinkle · 1 year

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Mr Van der Linde Pt. 4 - Dutch x Reader

Alright you horny bastards, here’s chapter 4. It took me longer than I’d planned, and I had a very busy month, buuuuut I’m hoping it’s worth the wait! Plus, this chapter is almost twice as long as the previous so that should make up for it too.

As always, this chapter is on ao3.

Summary: John makes last-minute plans for his birthday, and you can't say no to visiting him.

Word count: 12,203

Content warnings: drunk sex, smut :)

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Happy birthday!

You set your phone down after sending the message to John, the last birthday in the academic year out of your group of friends - landing in late August. The plan was to celebrate when you all returned to university, considering that was only a few weeks away.

It’d been a couple of months since you all last saw each other, at the infamous Van der Linde party that had more than lived up to its expectations.

It was strange.

You hadn’t spoken to Dutch since then, and while he didn’t exactly have any way of contacting you, you assumed he would be capable of finding a way. If he wanted to, he would, after all.

Still, you were glad you left to go home with Javier when you did. You knew better than to make yourself readily available to a man, even if said man made your legs turn to jelly.

Your phone buzzed, and you picked it up from beside you on your bed to see a train ticket send over by John.

You gotta come down! Javi and our friends from home are going to a pub tonight. It’s an open ticket, so you can come anytime and I’ll pick you up.

John, this is for today! You suck at planning.

He replied with a few smiley face emojis, and you huffed back to lay on your bed. You could hardly say no to that, could you? He’d gone out of his way to buy you a ticket, all so he could see you on his birthday. You didn’t have plans today anyway, and it’s not like it was a long trip. Plus, you’d be out of the house; no chance for any awkward encounters with Mr Van der Linde.

That being said, you no longer harboured any embarrassment towards him. You’d retained your dignity this time around, and were more than prepared to be casual and nonchalant towards him if you did end up seeing him.

You had a few errands to run, but once you were back home you packed a small overnight bag and wore a casual outfit that was still nice enough for a night out. Jeans and a nice top had never failed you so far.

It was mid-afternoon by the time you sat down on the train, pulling out your phone to let John know you were on the way. He replied soon after.

We’re already out. Snooze ya lose

The fucker. Not like you could be mad at him on his birthday, though. Just as you were about to ask where they were so you could make your own way from the station, he sent another text.

Dad’ll pick you up.

What? No! A casual conversation in passing with the man would be manageable, but him coming out of his way to pick you up alone was a horrifying thought. Another text came through.

I gave him your number, he’ll let you know where he’s parked.

You were going to kill him. Or were you? What could you say? How dare you give your father – whom I’ve kissed, twice – my number and ask him to pick me up? No, for once, John wasn’t knowingly being a pain in the ass. Though, maybe there was still time to salvage the situation.

It’s okay, I can just get a taxi

Don’t be daft. I already asked him, he doesn’t mind. See you later

Fuck. You set your phone down on your lap and busied yourself with watching the landscape pass by through the window while you mentally braced yourself for seeing Mr Van der Linde once again.

As the second to last stop was being announced, an unknown number flashed up on your phone.

“Hello?”

“Hello.”

Well, that was the first time you’d ever been turned on by the world hello . That man’s voice was something else.

“I told John I’d get a taxi.”

“You should know by now that I am John’s taxi.”

You huffed a laugh, repositioning yourself in your seat. “Alright. I’m about five minutes away from the stop, where will you be parked?”

“There’s a drop-off rank by the exit if you know it? I’ll be there.”

“Sure, I know it. See you soon.”

“See you soon, miss.”

You hung up the phone, ignoring the playful lilt of his voice and willing your confidence in the situation to remain despite how strongly it wavered.

Thankfully, it wasn’t a large train station like in the big cities. Once you were off the platform, the exit was right by you and you could already see Dutch’s parked car. You approached, hearing the doors unlock as Dutch spotted you in his wing mirror. You braced yourself and opened the door.

He smiled warmly at you. That playful tone of his voice had bled through to his facial expression, it seemed.

You cleared your throat. “Hi.”

“You gonna get in?”

You lifted your bag into his field of view. “My bag.”

Dutch leaned over to press a button, and the boot opened. He tilted his head towards it.

You rounded the back of the car and lifted your bag into the boot. After shutting it, you slid into the passenger seat. When you turned to faff with the seat belt, Dutch’s hand reached across you and grasped the fasten. You turned your head to him and shot him a distrustful look.

The bastard just smiled, pulled the belt over, and clicked it into place.

“What are you playing at?” you asked, easily and willing yourself not to laugh, so as not to provide him with satisfaction by playing into his game. Something about his mischievous face made that a rather difficult task.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he said casually, starting his car and reversing out of his spot slightly. As he did so, he put a hand on the top of your seat and looked out his back window.

“You know exactly what I mean,” you grumbled, and his smile grew as he pulled out to begin the drive.

“How has your summer been?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Just fine, thank you. How was yours?”

He rolled his eyes, drumming his fingertips on the wheel. “That’s a rubbish answer.”

“How?” you clucked at him.

“I’m genuinely interested,” he paused, taking his eyes off the road for a moment to give you a pointed look, “I’m not just trying to make small talk. What did you get up to?”

A smile quirked over your lips; too much time spent in hospitality and practising your manners, you supposed. “I worked, mostly. But I caught up on my sleep, read a few books and watched a few things on TV that I’ve been meaning to finish. So really, nothing exciting, but I enjoyed it.”

“Better,” he hummed, and if he didn’t look so hot when he smiled smugly like that you’d have been tempted to shove him.

“And you?” you sighed, not hiding your unwillingness to say the expected line in return.

“Went away with the kids for a week. Other than that, I worked. Actually,” his eyebrows pulled up as an idea came to mind, “you should come with us when we go next year.”

You snorted a laugh, then realised he was entirely serious. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Why would I go?”

At his silence, you glanced over and observed the half-smile on his face. “For my benefit.”

You scoffed, not wanting to reward him with a laugh again. As you recognised the roads on the way to his house, you realised he wasn’t taking you straight to the bar. “Oh, aren’t you taking me straight there? I have everything I need, you can just take the overnight bag back with you.”

“Oh, can I now?” he asked, teasingly.

“So you don’t have an extra trip,” you clarified, not wanting to come across ungrateful.

“Well,” he said gently, “we’re almost there now.”

“Dutch,” you tutted. “I’m already late.”

“Hush.”

With a defeated huff, you relaxed back into the seat and decided not to fight him on this. He was giving you a lift, after all. And truthfully, you didn’t trust yourself alone with him. The train journey, along with the time at home over summer, had given you a good chunk of time to think about the situation you’d found yourself in.

After the party, you’d been disappointed that Mr Van der Linde had acted as though nothing happened, but now you supposed it was for the best. Since, what was the alternative? The two of you start dating ? Or, you have a quick fling, that you’d have to keep from John for the rest of your friendship? No, no good could come from this.

You weren’t going there again.

When John had asked if you wanted to come and stay you were hesitant but decided that no , you do have self-control and kissing his father was a mistake. A lapse of judgement. You couldn’t do it to him. John was more important.

The car stopped and you automatically undid your seatbelt, exited the car, and removed your bag. “I’ll get a taxi to the pub,” you informed Dutch as he locked the car once you shut the boot.

“No you won’t,” he responded instantly, and you followed him up the drive and to the front door.

“What’s the point of your bringing me here to drop my bag if you’re going to insist on dropping me off?” you asked, wondering when you began feeling so at ease with him to treat him as though he was one of your friends, instead of a friend’s parent. Perhaps it was when you shared a drunken kiss. Those were known to bring two people closer together.

Dutch smiled to himself, opening the door and gesturing for you to come in. You rolled your eyes and ignored his chuckle as you entered, before making your way upstairs to dump your bag in the same spare room you’d used the first time you visited.

“Okay,” you said on your way down the stairs but stopped in your tracks when you found the hallway empty. You walked down and to the kitchen, finding Dutch pouring a glass of wine upon your entry. “I’m ready to go, but I can get a taxi, especially if you want a drink -”

“It’s for you,” he held it out, “so you can catch up.”

“I’m already late,” you laughed but walked towards the breakfast bar and took the drink anyway. You leaned on it while you had a sip. “I will drink this quickly .”

“Fine,” he shrugged, that stupid smile on his face once more. He looked you up and down. “You look nice.”

“Thank -”

“A little too nice.”

Here we go again . You tutted at him. “Really?”

He smiled; enough of a confirmation.

“Well,” you sighed stubbornly. “I don’t want to go there again. Not anymore.”

Dutch’s brow quirked, and you hated him for how much he loved these sorts of games, especially since he was so damn good at them. “Is that right?”

“Yes.”

He took slow steps to round the island and stopped behind you. His signature smell that propelled you into a hazy pool of lust reached you before he did, his hand coming to rest on the counter beside you. Then his other hand, on the other side. He’d boxed you in. “Is that right?” he repeated, lowering his tone.

You took another sip of your wine and swallowed. “Yes.”

“There’s no need to be nervous, my dear.”

“I’m not,” you answered instantly, but took another swig of wine and that coupled with the quietness of your voice proved that yes , you were nervous. No part of him had even come into contact with you, yet you felt like your legs would buckle at any given moment.

“That so?”

You nodded.

He straightened up, and he was so close you could almost feel him. “How about now?”

“Do you want me to be nervous?”

“Just trying to figure you out,” he murmured.

“And what have you deduced?”

“I’m glad you asked. You see,” he slid his hands slightly closer to you, lessening the space you were trapped in. “You and I are rather similar.”

“We are?”

“Mhm.”

“How so?”

“We want similar things.”

You swallowed. “Do we?”

One of his hands moved off the counter, brushing your hair away from your ear and neck, before lightly tracing your spine and landing comfortably on your lower back. “Yes,” he whispered, lips just an inch from your ear.

“I’m going to be late,” you announced quietly.

“You’re already late. Besides, John can wait – I've been waiting much longer.” With that, he pressed his lips to your neck. You tilted your head, effectively melting into him and his torso met your back at just the right time. His hand journeyed from your lower back to your stomach, thankfully holding you up against him.

You released a slow breath, feeling comfortable enough to lose yourself in the man as he took his lips from your skin. You turned in his embrace, facing him, and placed your palms on his waist. His dark eyes were entirely taken over by lust. He’d seduced you, so easily despite your inner monologue of protest. “You can’t just -”

Dutch cut you off by pulling you into a heated kiss. He took his time, slowly moving his lips on yours but with an undeniable sense of urgency. “You’re fucking irresistible -” he said in between his affections, both of his hands now grasping your hips.

“- This is a terrible birthday present for your son -”

“- What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him -”

“- Shit,” you put your hands on his chest to keep him at bay and to allow a moment of reprise. “Where’s Tilly?”

“Obviously not here,” he said, as though it was the most ridiculous thing for you to be concerned about.

You tsked through your teeth. “Obviously.”

Dutch leaned in to resume the activity, but your hands remained pressed into his (rather delightful) chest. “What if someone comes in?”

“I am fully aware of who resides in my house. And it is currently nobody but us.”

You huffed, his lack of understanding for your worries needling under your skin. “Well, what if you’ve gone senile? It’s possible that you aren’t entirely aware.”

He stilled, looking at you with incredulity. “You aren’t funny.”

You smiled in response, disagreeing with his statement.

“That what you’re into? Senior citizens , if that’s what I am?”

You held in your laugh and noticed the twitch of his amused lip. “Depends, are you always into girls half your age?”

Dutch glanced away with a quiet, defeated sigh. “Touché.”

Your laugh escaped, and you were reminded just how easy it was to be with him. The last thread of common sense that remained in your mind reminded you of all the reasons why you shouldn’t.

"I said I wasn't gonna do this again," you said, regretfully.

"So did I."

That alone was enough to scare you, because god how were you expected to experience this and just walk away from it? Your insides were on fire, your body thoroughly burning up with passion after such a minute exchange. When faced with the prospect of this actually not happening, it was a stark realisation of just how much you wanted... needed it. "Suppose we’ve already done it now."

“I like your way of thinking, girl,” his low voice dripped with pride, and it didn’t help.

He kissed you once more, and you swore you could happily just do this all day. His lips against yours felt like something you’d been looking for your entire life, and then there was him , broad and charming and mature and smart and he wanted you -

It’s John’s birthday.

“Right,” you proclaimed, and you’d have physically slapped yourself out of it if it wouldn’t make you look completely insane. You pushed his chest with more force, allowing enough space between you so you could slip out of his embrace. He reached for you again, and you put your hands up in surrender, stilling him. “No. I need to go. I’m already going to have to tell John my train was delayed,” you pressed your lips together, “and reapply my lipstick.”

Dutch chuckled fondly, dropping his hand down. “Fine. I’ll just wait for you to get back.”

You tilted your head at him exasperatedly. “ Dutch .”

He was gentle when he reached for your hand again, and held it, bringing your knuckles to his lips and folding your fingers closed around his. “Alright. I’ll drive you now.”

John was... very drunk.

It was his birthday, so you didn’t blame him one bit, but you’d honestly be surprised if he even remembered you’d been there come morning.

“Another shot for the birthday boy!” Javier announced, multiple shot glasses of... something somehow balanced between his fingers. He placed them down before jovially patting John on the back.

John didn’t take a single moment to ponder what was in his glass before it was down his throat, and you could only laugh.

“Javi,” you lamented fondly, “it’s all well and good turning all his insides to ethanol when you’re not the one that has to get him home alive.”

Javier laughed, picking up a shot and shunting it towards you, clinking his own against it once it was in your hand and knocking it back. You followed suit. “I’ll see if I get him to do a tactical -”

“Chunder?” Javier interrupted, “he’s already done it.”

“God damnit,” you sighed with a laugh, keeping an eye on the security guard who somehow hadn’t noticed the sloppy state of one of its patrons.

“He’ll be fine ,” Javier slurred, “always is, somehow. Things just work out for our Johnny.”

“Don’t they just,” you snorted, watching with amusement as he swayed to the music in his seat. Only a matter of time before -

“I love this song!” John grabbed your hand and pulled you up, nodding his head towards the more open area of the bar where a few people were dancing.

“Ah,” Javier hummed as he followed behind the two of you, “not long now before he passes out.”

You gave him a look of agreement; John was nothing if not a creature of habit, following the same cycle every time he had one too many drinks. Mentally, you made a bet that in twenty minutes the two of you would be outside, trying to flag down a taxi.

Twenty-five minutes later, and there you were.

“New record for him, ain’t it?” Javier commented as he tried to find an Uber that’d accept his ride while steadying himself on the lamppost and honing all his concentration on his phone screen.

“Yeah...” you shrugged your shoulder up in an attempt to straighten the John that was slumped on you for support, “remind me why I’m the one holding him up and not you?”

“Ah, I got one!” Javier ignored you, squinting at the screen to read the number plate.

With a sigh, you once again tried to readjust John to prevent him from falling face-first onto the concrete, despite how amusing that would be. Thankfully, the taxi didn’t take long to arrive, though since Javier’s stop was first, you were left alone to try and heave John out of the seat and into the house.

“Come on John,” you grumbled, supporting him up the few steps to the front door while trying to block out your own drunkenness, “work with me here.”

As you were trying to get his key from his pocket, since he had no desire (or ability) to listen to your instructions and get them out himself, the door opened, and Mr Van der Linde stood there with a blasé expression, dressed in joggers and a t-shirt.

Wordlessly, you removed John’s arm from your shoulder and handed him to his father, who chuckled at your eagerness to part with the responsibility of keeping his son upright.

“Good night?” he asked John, who answered by putting his arms around Dutch’s neck, and you laughed to yourself at how much like a kid he seemed at that moment.

Dutch rolled his eyes as you shut the front door, giving the stairs a weary look. “I’m pretty sure I can’t carry him anymore.”

“I don’t know,” you hummed as slow steps were made towards them, “he’s like a string bean.”

“And so is my spine.”

“Fair enough,” you chuckled. “Go on, I’ve got the back.”

And thus began the descent, and while he managed to pull his own feet onto each step, with each one John became weightier – or Dutch’s strength lessened, you weren’t sure.

The three of you made it up without any broken bones, and Dutch opened the door to the next flight of stairs that lead to John’s room. “I’ll get him into bed,” he positioned John at the doorframe before leaning towards you, a twinkle in his eye, and murmuring, “you stay right there.”

You bit your tongue and gave him a daring look, folding your arms across your chest. It’s not like there was anything you wanted more, the alcohol in your system making him look that extra bit more attractive, but you didn’t want him to know that.

Unfortunately, Dutch had already deduced that to be the case and gave you a half-smile after glancing down your form, then proceeded to get John up the stairs.

You took out your phone, quickly checking your appearance and being thankful that you didn’t look too dishevelled.

Dutch returned momentarily, pointedly closing the door and breathing a sigh of relief. “You don’t seem very drunk," he commented.

"No. John was already wasted when I got there so I presumed I'd have to look after him."

"My son. The liability," he proclaimed with mocking disappointment, and you laughed softly.

The following quiet pause hung in the air between the two of you, and you cleared your throat.

“Care to have a drink with me, now? The night is still young,” Dutch said charmingly, but you blanched at thought of doing anything while your best friend was under the same roof. You’re tired and ready for bed? That’ll work.

“It’s...” you checked the time on your phone, and your excuse thinned out into the air. “Jesus. It's only eleven.”

“Exactly.” Dutch began the journey downstairs to the kitchen, not leaving you with room to argue, and so you followed him there. You didn’t want to argue. You wanted to sit and have a drink; to spend time with him. But as usual, and rightfully so, your conscience willed you to protest. Perhaps reasoning that he hadn’t provided room to argue was a cop-out, but you stuck with the excuse all the same. Dutch took out two snifters from the kitchen cupboard along with an already-open bottle of brandy.

“Are you trying to get me drunk, Mr Van der Linde?” you asked, eyeing the generous measure he poured for each of you.

“Now why would I do a thing like that?” he asked innocently, swiping the drinks up and walking into the adjoining living room.

“So you can make an advance on me?” you gently accused him, getting yourself comfortable on the sofa as he did the same.

“I don’t need to get you drunk to do that,” he tilted his head at you, handing you the glass.

“No?” you took a sip and ignored how many drinks you’d mixed that night, hoping your body would do the same. The brandy tasted more expensive than anything you’d ever drunk before.

The tension built as he took a sip of his drink, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on you. He didn’t need to clarify his answer further. “How cute,” he smirked, and you rolled your eyes.

“What do you gain from teasing me like this?” your soft voice betrayed your act; there was no fooling Dutch that despite your question you rather enjoyed his teasing.

He chuckled easily, watching his brandy swirl around the glass before taking it to his lips. His gaze flicked up to you and remained there for a short moment. “Let’s just say you’re rather expressive.”

“Expressive?”

Dutch hummed his agreement.

“How so?” you wracked your mind, suddenly feeling as though you were exposed bare in front of him. In your opinion, you’d done a semi-decent job of blocking the outward display of your desires. Though maybe you had, the strength of said desires made it impossible to hide them fully.

He tilted his head, examining you. “Your lip tightens ever so slightly,” he said softly, continuing his appraisal of your face, “those eyes of yours too, I can practically see your irises take over the rest.”

You scoffed. “All that tells me is that you spend far too long looking at my face.”

Your opponent's own face softened, Dutch’s hard features somehow gentle in the low light of the living room, illuminated only by a standing lamp in the corner. A small smile seeped onto his face. “It’s cruel to blame a man with refined tastes for admiring something so well crafted.”

“You and your tastes ,” you muttered into your glass, taking a swig.

“I must say, you do continue to impress me.”

“Yeah?” you raised your brows, patiently awaiting whatever silken spool he was winding you with.

He nodded, expression content but with an underlying playfulness; as though the two of you were in on some unspoken inside joke. “Your willpower far surpasses mine.”

You snorted a laugh, though it came out quiet and not fully committed. “You view yourself rather highly.”

“We must all have our own frame of reference.”

“I suppose,” you took another sip, the surface of your skin prickling thanks to the strong spirit. “How come you refer to it as willpower?”

“What would you call it?”

The way Dutch spoke to you, the way he asked his questions and observed your body language along with the answer you gave, provided an odd sense of security. It was as though he was sifting through your brain, almost getting lost in the abyss that was your thoughts. Every answer you gave provoked a new avenue of exploration, and it gave you a small measure of power to have someone listen so intently to what you had to say. In your experience with men, conversations had often been one-sided as they waited for your response only so they could have their turn to speak. Had his communication skills been refined with age, or was it simply him , harbouring a desire to learn more about you? “I’m not sure,” you settled on your answer, “but how do you know it isn’t just unreciprocated feelings?”

He smiled proudly at that, a laugh coming from deep in his chest. His eyes practically shone with awe, as they usually did when you tested his boundaries. You supposed this was what this whole thing was about – how many boundaries would the two of you test in the pursuit of... what was it? Pleasure?

“I know that’s not the case,” he said lowly.

“Like I said. You view yourself highly.”

There was a pause, Dutch sighing contently as the two of you took another sip. “I would like to return our topic of conversation to the subject of my tastes.”

“Well... what about my tastes?”

Dutch’s eyes glinted, as though that was a question he’d been waiting to answer. “We can talk about those, too, if you like. Though I already know what you want.”

“Is that so?” you swallowed.

His answer was a shuffle closer to you, taking your glass along with his and setting them down on the coffee table. He turned his eye line to your hair, of which he gently brushed a strand away from your face. “Yes,” he answered, keeping his attention on the movement of his hand. “You recall our earlier conversation.”

You nodded, despite it not being a question. Dutch lowered his hand; its journey slow as it made its way to your thigh. His palm rested there lightly, but it was self-assured. The sensation of his big, firm hands on you sparked something deep in your gut. His head tilted downwards, he looked at you through his lashes, and there was no denying the lust plain on his face.

But he wanted to play games, so you planned on giving him his way. Dutch may believe he’s the only one with the upper hand of knowledge, but you knew just what he wanted.

There was a part of Dutch that wanted you to give in, for need and desire to overtake your composure and to have you throw yourself at him. But the way you sat, unmoving yet relaxed, furthered his interest in you. He did love a challenge. And at the feeling of your thigh under his palm, he set himself the task of reducing you to your purest desires.

“I was reading a book recently,” he mused, gently running his thumb back and forth on your thigh.

“Were you now.”

“About the dangers of men and their greed,” he continued, “until they destroy all that lies in the path of their pursuit until there is nothing left. You know what happens then?”

His arm snaked around your shoulders, and you ignored it, but you couldn’t help softening slightly into his supportive limb.

“I asked you a question.”

“I don’t know.”

“Once they’ve destroyed all this earth has to offer, they in turn destroy themselves.”

“Forgive me, Mr Van der Linde -”

“Dutch, darlin’,” he interrupted absentmindedly.

“ Dutch ,” you allowed his name to roll off your tongue and didn’t miss the low growl of approval in the man’s chest as he leant further towards you. “I don’t see how this is relevant.”

“I’m not finished,” he said plainly.

“Then please,” you stretched your back minimally, enough for his eyes to dart to your chest, “continue.”

Dutch's attention turned to his hand, still on your thigh that he kneaded firmly then returned to its resting position, gripping you noticeably harder than it had previously. “I have always prided myself in valuing what I have , not allowing my desires to manifest in things I do not need.”

You waited patiently when he checked your reaction, his torso entirely pressed into yours.

“Yet...” his voice dropped almost to a low hum, close enough for you to practically feel the vibrations of his baritone. His face moved to the side of yours, his lips beside your ear. “Yet I find myself desiring. ”

You swallowed.

“The modern man is taught to give up his pleasures, a mere insult to our existence, considering inside us there exists the human, and the animal...”

He brushed his nose up the side of your head, breathing in the scent of your hair.

“To ignore either one goes against our very nature.”

“It does,” you said, intending your words to come out as a question but instead they reached Dutch as a confirmation.

“Instead of leaning into those pleasures,” Dutch’s palm slowly brushed up your thigh and he felt the muscle underneath twitch involuntarily, “they allow society to tell them what they want. Struck by a fear of delving into the recesses of their own minds to find out what they truly desire. Instead, they want to acquire for the sake of acquisition, things that serve no purpose. So now you see my problem - I find myself wanting to acquire what I currently hold in my hands.”

He squeezed your flesh, angling himself towards you, that carnal desire he spoke of hard against your leg. His arm that’d been over your shoulders returned to its owner and he brushed the back of his finger over your cheek. You tilted your head towards him, eyelids relaxed, and a warmth spread in Dutch’s chest at your slow undoing. Though, he still had some work to do. Experimentally, you leaned in, and Dutch took it as his cue to speak once more and took his hand away.

“But then,” - your next breath out was slightly audible - he already had you where he wanted you, didn’t he - “I was struck by an epiphany. I am not like them. You know why?”

You shook your head, releasing a shaky breath as Dutch’s fingertips returned, and slid up your neck until reaching your chin, holding it between his fore and index finger while he gazed intently at your bottom lip.

“ Those men, they don’t place value in the having of the thing. They want it until they have it, then they want something else,” he sighed contently, moving forward as though to kiss you but pausing, pulling your chin down until your lips parted and then continuing, instead taking your bottom lip gently between his teeth. He dragged them against your skin until your lip released, and the slight part in your mouth remained, though now your bottom lip was redder than before – your blood rushing to sit underneath the surface. A beautiful sight.

You remembered then, your earlier intention of remaining sturdy, but didn’t have enough in you to cease the softening of your body bit by bit, falling gladly in the mould Dutch presented for you. There, the world seemed simple, comfortable, a place where you didn’t have to constantly think , and could just be...

“Man,” Dutch continued, now almost consuming you in every way one can be consumed, “when left to his desires will induce hell. I believe it is our business to find heaven, and I think I know the first place to look.”

“Where?” your question came out in a thin sigh, barely there at all.

He smiled, glad that you’d asked as much as he was glad that you were listening so well. He ran his lips along your jaw, his hot breath skirting down your neck and you could hardly notice his hand on your leg creeping up the remaining distance. “ Right between your thighs. ” He cupped your clothed pussy and squeezed .

Your gasp was staggered, a noise that wanted to be a yell, but you repressed it as much as you could. Finally, your hands reached for Dutch and gripped to the first thing they could find: the sides of his firm waist. You pulled him to you and demanded he kiss you back, which was no big ask for him.

While he could feel your wanting hands tugging, there wasn’t much direction from them except closer , so Dutch allowed his weight to lean in and convinced you to lay on the sofa until his frame covered yours. His palm remained in place, and you ground your hips up into it while kissing him fervently. It was the sort of kiss where both parties refused to back down, each of their desires – the irony didn’t escape you – wishing to conquer. But Dutch had the upper hand, being above you and controlling your pleasure just by squeezing . Your head dropped back, a sigh of ecstasy releasing, and all Dutch could do was growl.

“That’s right,” he praised soothingly, pressing his palm harder into your mound, “give in to me.”

You happily obeyed that command, wrapping your arms around his neck and shifting your thighs, the wetness in your pants growing to a level of discomfort. That, coupled with the sweat pooling on your skin, made you feel positively dirty . It was a happy state of being, to be so okay with that and truthfully, wanting more.

Dutch moved his hand away and you whined pitifully, him chuckling at the extent of power he now had over you and rewarding himself with a desperate squeeze of your breast.

There was a pause, one where you just looked at each other with chests heaving and desire rippling from your bodies in waves. All you could see in his eyes was a certainty, what for you weren’t quite sure, and his intentions were clear as day as he silently communicated them with you. The relaxation of your shoulders was enough of a response for him, and his façade of seduction slipped only for a moment as he offered you a warm, slight smile.

It left as quickly as it had appeared, Dutch opting for doing the one thing he’d thought of more than anything since he’d met you. He pushed the fabric of your top up your stomach, and you shifted onto your elbows to allow him to remove it. You hardly noticed his fingers trace around the wire of your bra until they reached the back, unclasping it in one swift motion. Holding your arms out, he took it as his cue to remove the garment and his gaze transfixed on your bare skin.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, his index and middle finger slowly swiping up to run a nipple between his digits.

It was... different. He was admiring you, taking his time despite his arousal bursting at the seams (literally - you could see it). It felt like it had always been missing in your previous encounters, and while you recognised the sweetness in his zealous actions, this time you wanted to be rushed. Just a little, to allow yourself to remain in the heady state you’d found yourself in.

You interrupted his infatuation by leaning up, shucking his t-shirt up and he smirked while raising his arms. “My turn.”

“Of course.”

Dutch moved to sit back on his haunches, to allow you both a moment to drink each other in. He forgot that you’d already seen his chest, as delightfully toned and hairy as it was, in much better lighting some months previously. Sure, you could look at him all day if given the task but one glance at his skin was enough for you to want to feel it against yours while the opportunity presented itself. You sat up with a huff, practically pouncing on the unsuspecting man and taking a seat on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Oh, darlin’,” he said with an air of surprise, and before he could start talking again you landed your lips on his thick neck, kisses and licks that turned into grazing bites evaporating all his thoughts from his head.

Despite his joggers and your jeans separating the two of you, Dutch was so furiously hard that it was more than enough friction for you to grind against. So you did, you rocked your hips over his length and build up that stimulation, tilting your head up with a breathy sigh and squeezing your legs around his.

Your eyes fell shut, the buzz of alcohol coupled with the buzz of arousal too tempting not to chase. Dutch’s eyes, however, were transfixed as he watched you. His big palms held your thighs while he enjoyed your show, the crease between your brows, the part of your lips, and the flush underneath your skin was a delight to watch. However, his favourite thing about your show was that it wasn’t for him; it was for you.

His dominance and desire to pin you down and fill you up was still there, somewhere, but drifted further away with every greedy grind of your hips. “You are perfect like this,” he said lowly, almost to himself, but you stalled your motions and blinked your eyes down to look at him questioningly. “Being selfish looks good on you,” he clarified.

Your laugh was muted when you rolled your eyes, and you opted for kissing him again and favouring slow movements of your hips.

Dutch allowed it, for a moment, but his practised patience was beginning to wear thin. “I think that’s enough teasing for me,” he muttered against your mouth.

While you were a sight to behold, he’d allowed you to turn him into a speechless deer stuck in a beam of headlights, allowed himself to give in and become pliant. That wasn’t how it was in any of his fantasies. There, he ploughed into you while you whined, and prepared your grounds for the sowing of his seeds. With an effective grunt, he gripped a hand on each of your upper arms and twisted you to lay on your back, resuming his dominating position over you.

You smirked up at him, a little surprised but with no complaints. This was really going to happen.

Dutch’s joggers now sat low on his hips, and your eyes were drawn to the dark hairs that led down into them. “Ah ah,” he teased, “it’s my turn now. Remember?”

You flicked your eyes up to him and shrugged, settling into the sofa and gesturing to your jeans to give him the go-ahead. His face lit up with poorly contained excitement, either that or you were beginning to read his emotions better, and he swiftly got to work undoing your jeans. He slowed enough to remind himself that this was rather a big deal and took his time as he dragged the material down your legs. He bit down on his tongue at the sight of you exposed, save for your underwear which was moist with your desire. Dutch was drawn to it, pressing the pad of his thumb over the wet patch and you were responsive as ever, moving your hips to chase the pleasure.

He would’ve been happy to watch you squirm some more, but you were nothing if not fair and decided to carry on implementing this rule system the two of you had created. You sat up, placing your fingertips on his waistband and glancing up to get permission. He nodded once and leaned down to kiss you while you slipped the joggers over his delightful thighs.

When the kiss broke, you widened your eyes in surprise when you looked down to see his cock, hard and frustrated.

“Where’s your underwear?” you asked him, and he tilted his head at you with incredulity.

“Why would I wear underwear to bed?”

Oh. You’d forgotten this was just his sleeping attire. “Good point,” you agreed. “That means I’m out of turns.”

“That’s alright,” Dutch leaned over you, hooking his thumb into your underwear, “I do believe it’s my turn, anyway.”

With that, your underwear was off, and you each took a moment to admire the other, your mind turning to filth at the thought of all he could do with... that...

The most appropriate way you could put it was that he was rather blessed. And soon you would be, too.

Dutch leaned over you, his skin on yours enough to keep your mind cloudy and content. “Positively... delectable,” he purred, lowering his lips to commence a slow kiss and you gripped his forearms; anchoring yourself to him.

“Now darlin’,” he huffed, attempting to order his scrambled thoughts, “I need to be fair and honest with you.”

You paused, frowning. “About what?”

“I told you earlier, I am not interested in desire. While I desire you now, I do not wish to desire something I cannot have.”

Your frown deepened, and you glanced down at yourself. “But, I’m allowing you to -”

“I know ,” he soothed. “I don’t just mean now.” Dutch paused for a moment, too many wonderful parts of you that he wanted to look at, so he instead opted for your face, which he was already rather fond of. “If I have you... then I must have you. If I become accustomed to the taste of your skin, I know, I just know...” he trailed off, running his hand up your flank and across your chest, lazily thumbing a nipple. “It will no longer be want. Having you, it will be a need .”

You relaxed, eyes returning to their softened state.

“Do you understand?”

You nodded.

“No - do you really understand? What me having you now entails?”

You nodded again.

“Words, darlin’.”

“I -” you faltered, understanding perfectly what was to come next but deciding instead to indulge yourself in the honeyed prose that oozed from his mouth. “Tell me.”

His brow raised, impressed that even in your lust-filled state you were able to continue the act of teasing. “Very well,” he agreed, scanning his eyes down your naked form underneath him, the head of his cock leaking onto your leg. “I will have this,” he lamented with a hand on your stomach before it drifted down to rub the sides of your folds, toying with the almost-pressure between his alternating fingers. “And I will have this. I will take from you, my sweet, and grip onto that waist of yours while I also give . I will give, I will pump you full of me until I have nothing left.”

You bit down on your tongue, rolling your hips with not an ounce of shame. “ Okay .”

Dutch smiled, pleased. He sat back on his haunches, taking a hand to the innards of your knees before kissing each one and opening your legs. He stared at what he found, cock twitching as it stood impatient against his abdomen, his tongue darting out on his lip absently. He brushed his hands up your thighs until they reached your waist, and he pulled you roughly towards him, towering over you as he chuckled darkly. A slight gasp left you, and you squirmed with how close he was to joining the two of you.

And there it was. You, needy and flustered underneath him, and it was beyond worth the wait.

Though it wasn’t necessary, Dutch resumed the stroking of your folds, this time dipping into your slit to tease your entrance. He bit back a moan, the hint of wetness, warmth, and plush flesh that he was about to experience very intimately almost making him lose his wavering control over the situation. Your walls clenched, willing him to relieve you and truthfully not believing you needed any form of preparation, but perhaps it was a precaution – or he was being a gentleman.

The fact was that Dutch just wanted to feel you, not only with his fingers but his tongue, too; though that would have to wait for another day lest he wanted to finish before he’d even started.

He slid a finger in without resistance, your body doing everything to ask for more , to keep what was already filling you. It slipped out a few inches and a second finger entered along with it on the next experimental journey in and you released a breathy moan, feeling nothing aside from pleasure. Briefly, you wished this had happened at the party a few months back so you could’ve done it while he wore his rings. Though, you weren’t in a position to complain.

Dutch’s approving hum accompanied his slow ministrations, crooking his fingers slightly so that they just brushed against the raised bump in your walls and your next breath came out lined with frustration.

“Come on, Dutch,” you’d intended to be assertive, but your voice hung in the air with a seductive tone, one that still had the desired effect as Dutch immediately removed his fingers and held his hand around his cock, leaning over you some. You smirked at his eagerness and didn’t miss the flash of annoyance over his eyes, though it was borne from a now-familiar fondness on his part.

“You are a rather,” he paused to run the head of his cock over your slit and you bit down on your bottom lip, “ demanding young woman.”

With his cock meeting your pussy for the first time, the stark realisation hit you of just what you were doing. It must’ve shown on your face, causing Dutch’s brows to tense with concern.

“Are you alright?”

You nodded, reminding yourself to take a breath and relaxed some. It was an odd mix of emotions, your excitement and nervousness coming together to make you almost giddy, and you laughed a little with apprehension. “John’s right upstairs.”

Dutch’s expression grew gentle, and he ran the head of his cock down your slit once more, leaning down to touch the tip of his nose to yours. “Then you better keep quiet.”

The barely-there sensation turned to a dull pressure, and then his cock slipped past your entrance and you moaned as he filled you, arching up and gripping the fabric of the sofa as you felt what must be the best sensation of your entire life.

He just kept going , and your attention was drawn to how big he was as he pushed all the way in to nestle his hipbones comfortably into your ass. “That’s not quiet,” he warned, voice restrained as he too kept his response to a minimum.

You chuckled, and Dutch felt it vibrate on his shaft and screwed his eyes shut as the delightful feeling you provided took over him. The man in him withered away, until he was more animal than anything and he briefly questioned whether desire was truly that bad. Then, he internally reprimanded himself for thinking about Evelyn Miller, however briefly, while he was nestled inside a beautiful woman.

“God,” you breathed, making it difficult for him to think about anything else other than you, “you feel so good.”

Dutch felt the heat rise to his cheeks and planned to blame the alcohol in case he actually blushed at your compliment. “Good? Darlin’ you’re...” his mind was empty. There wasn’t a word to describe the way it felt to have your warmth envelop him, even perfect didn’t quite do it justice. “It’s like you’re made for me,” he settled on, surprised his mind could even form a full sentence.

“Dutch?” you said seriously, tilting your head inquisitively.

“Mhm?”

“I have a confession.”

“What is it?” he smirked.

“I’ve been thinking about this for some time.”

He smiled, again feeling coy thanks to your words. It was sweet, and he hadn’t expected this to be so sweet . Then your following words brought him back to reality.

“And every time,” you sat up on your elbows, brushing your lips against his and feeling brave with desire, “you fucked me. Properly.”

Thankfully, Dutch registered your insinuation, and the lust returned to his eyes and wiped out the almost starry-eyed look he’d had in them previously. His hand cupped the back of your head and he kissed you roughly, his tongue invading your mouth as he slowly inched out. He let off, allowing you to take a breath and proceeded to slam his hip into yours.

Finally , that was more like it. Your gasp was high-pitched as he repeated the motion, gradually speeding up and fucking you deeper than you thought was possible.

Dutch’s fingertips gripped the sides of your hips as he tried to pull himself further in, despite that not being possible. Your words had snapped something within him, and he leaned down to suck harshly at your neck.

“Don’t,” a quiet moan broke your sentence, “leave any marks...”

And then, the suction increased, and you gripped a hand into the back of his hair and pulled him off despite yourself. Dutch smirked down at you.

“I’m warning you.”

“You are just a vixen ,” he said with a deep thrust, “so much more to you than meets the eye, sweetheart...” his breath was hot against your ear as he returned to littering your skin with affection, his hand coming between the two of you to knead your breast. Your hand remained in his hair, fingertips running across his scalp at the base of his thick curls, though you weren’t pulling him away this time. His tongue travelled around your neck and ears, leaving cool wetness in its wake as proof of the parts of your skin he’d tasted.

So far, your teasing had been well received. You wondered where his line was. “Am I?”

Dutch hummed his agreement, hardly listening and too infatuated with the feeling of your dripping cunt, soft breasts, and delicious skin. He’d turned quieter than usual while he thrusted into you. You took one look at his face, the furrow of his brow, the tightening of his lips...

He was focusing .

It was sweet, really, that your pleasure was at the forefront of his mind. It was a breath of fresh air that you needed, but right now, wasn’t what you wanted . Screw Dutch and his books and his high horse about desires, you wanted him . You wanted to see that animal he talked so fondly of that apparently inhabited us all. This was the man, but you knew it wasn’t entirely truthful. You wanted him to let go, to take what he wanted. To give into that desire. Fuck it .

“Wish I could say the same about you.”

He paused comically, stilling his thrusts and taking his lips from you, to meet you with a glare. “What?”

“Here I was,” you relaxed back theatrically, “thinking Mr Van der Linde would be all demanding and dominant like he is during the day...” you sighed for effect, “but no. I had to practically beg you to fuck me.”

Dutch’s face didn’t crack as he pulled out of you, moving to kneel on the sofa between your legs. The humour ran cold off your face, you were the one that wanted to find the line, after all .

“I -” you began, sitting up, “I was just teasing.”

He raised a brow, and you sighed.

“Sorry, alright?” you placed a gentle hand on his forearm, “it was a joke. Too far, clearly.”

The silence hung between you, and the lack of change in Dutch’s expression was almost eery. As you moved your hand away from him, he gripped your wrist and yanked you towards him, so close that with your face in line with his chest, you had to look straight up to see his expression. Contrasting the iron grip, his other hand gently caressed your face. “Oh, you are a foolish little girl.”

He was menacing. You couldn’t read him, whether this was part of a bit or whether he was genuinely pissed off you weren’t sure. Perhaps you’d gotten so caught up and forgotten the sort of man you were dealing with, or you didn’t spend long enough at the start trying to find out. “Sorry,” you repeated. “Please.”

“Now you see,” he squeezed your jaw, “ that’s begging. But I don’t think you know what you’ve gotten yourself into, do you? Just a sweet little lamb following the scent of fresh grass right into the wolf’s den.”

He released you harshly, knocking you back and a strike of adrenaline ran through you at the dangerous look in his eyes. You didn’t have long to observe, as before you knew it, he’d flipped you over and hiked your ass into the air. Then, a slap reverbed around the room, followed by a sting of pain.

“Dutch!” you squealed quietly, and looked behind at him, “don’t - John!”

He put his hand to the back of your head and pressed your face into the sofa, leaning down to put his lips by your ear while his cock lay comfortably between your ass cheeks. “You asked for this, sweetheart. If it’s a dangerous game you want, it’s a dangerous game you get,” he bit your earlobe and released, “I pride myself in being a thorough man,” his cock began to slide into your cunt, “a man of my word .” He dragged your hips back to him with the hand that wasn’t holding your head. “Let this be a lesson, should you be tempted to try testing my integrity ever again,” you growled in your ear. “Now, princess, I think I’ll fuck all of that attitude out of you.”

With no time for you to protest, not that you wanted to, he began fucking you deep and fast, both pushing his hips forward and pulling you back. The angle was different, deeper as his cock dragged along your walls in a new way. Knowing John was upstairs was no longer a point of guilt for you, instead, it made it all the more exciting. This was wrong . You could get caught. You moaned at the thought, continuing in time with his erratic thrusts.

“Jesus,” he grumbled, reluctantly holding his hand over your mouth instead of on your head, “you’ll wake the dead with those noises of yours.”

With your head tilted up to accommodate for his hand, your back arched and Dutch furthered the bend by pressing his palm onto the middle of your back to provide an even needier view for him. “Stupid,” he grumbled between thrusts, “little, girl. Doesn’t know w-what's good for... her.” His words, while broken with grunts and restricted moans, went straight to your core. There you lay, presented like a common whore and unable to manoeuvre yourself into any other position while he pounded you into the sofa. Dutch had achieved his desired control, and you trusted him fully to bring you pleasure.

As if on cue, his hand moved from your back and round to your clit, rubbing harsh circles over it with his index finger. You moaned into Dutch’s palm, feeling your saliva seep onto his skin and feeling all the filthier for it. The man himself enjoyed it too, this was your truest desire. That tight and unwavering grip you had on your control must be tiresome, he mused while he continued to defile your cunt. “Just look at you,” he breathed, “little miss tries her hardest to be perfect, doesn’t she?” he asked, his tone patronising but only further your building arousal and you were sure you’d soon burst, “so squeaky clean yet here you are... filthy ,” he smacked your ass for good measure, “want someone to take control of you, hm? Someone to -” Dutch took a breath as he continued to hold off from finishing as long as he could. He flat-out refused to come until he got to feel your contracting pussy as you came around his cock. “Someone to look after you, someone who knows just what you need...”

He was truly a bastard. A bastard that had figured you out, and sounded proud for it. But what were you to do? Deny it? Keep up the façade - which, he was right, was truly tiring – or accept it? Allow this to be the one arena where you could just fucking let go. You nodded, despite the restriction of his palm.

You let go , of the pent-up arousal and control as it whooshed out of your body, from your abdomen and down your limbs, to the tips of your fingers and toes. Your legs tensed in an effort not to shake as you buried your head into the pillow of the sofa, aware of Dutch’s low moan of ecstasy followed by a sopping warmth entering you as he filled you up, entirely with him .

Your eyes had teared up, both from the exhilarating pleasure but too from the damn release . You relaxed into the sofa, feeling floaty and a little overwhelmed. But it was fine, you were fine. While he had been the one to warn you that there was no going back on this, you feared Dutch was the one that didn’t know what he’d gotten himself in form. This was what was missing from your life. This was the thing that poets wrote about, musicians sang about, and what the whole world seemed obsessed with. Love? Not yet. But that passion the two of you created? That shit was art .

“Darlin’?” Dutch questioned, pushing the hair off your sweaty brow and you blinked your eyes open with a tilt of your head backwards to look at him, his face full of concern. “Are you alright?”

You nodded, your best attempt at making sure he didn’t worry about you. He didn’t seem entirely fooled but also not entirely panicked. He gently eased out of you and lay beside you, coaxing you to turn over and lay against his chest. You did, a hand in his wiry hairs while you listened to the pounding of his heart gradually settle.

“Sorry, I - I lost myself a little there -”

“No,” you interrupted, and when you looked up at Dutch he thumbed underneath your eye to wipe the few fallen tears away. “No it was – it was just what I needed.”

That was all it took for Dutch’s face to relax, a genuine smile returning. His deep, brown eyes were a place of warmth, and no part of you felt like you had to appease him or lie to him or change yourself to behave perfectly. It was strange. It was like you, as you were, was enough . He kissed you gently. “Me too.”

While it was possible that your lust-induced brain was reading all the wrong signals, something about the way he looked at you was like a promise it would all be okay. That the two of you had a mutual understanding, that this was perfect for the both of you, not some gross fantasy shit as it had been in your head for over half a year. Well, maybe it was both.

You nestled your head into his chest, and he drew patterns on your back while the two of you lay naked on the sofa, returning to be wholly present in the room.

After a while, how long exactly you weren’t sure thanks to how serene the passing of time was, Dutch spoke.

“I’m sorry for not coming to find you at the party.”

“Oh,” you craned your head up to him. “That’s okay, I just assumed you were busy.” He nodded, a little relieved and you reminded yourself not to be too soft on him just yet. He was fun to tease, after all. “Plus, I don’t see it fair that I should sit around and wait for you.”

“Yes, you’re correct. Something came up that required my attention.” Dutch’s smile at you was proud, and the subsequent kiss he pressed to your cheek was almost endearing. “Good girl. That’s much more like it.”

You rolled your eyes, the praise stoking the fire still dwindling in your abdomen. “Don’t say that.”

“But why?” he questioned, leaning in to kiss your neck, “you’re such a good, good girl...” His kisses grew tender, yet sultry enough for you to make you melt.

“Shut up,” you laughed, and Dutch’s chest vibrated with amusement as he returned to embrace you. Your laugh was so true, and while a voice in the back of Dutch’s head reminded him that he was a serial romantic with a volatile tendency to rush into everything, he found he simply couldn’t help himself. This really was your truest form, not in a sense of your desires, but you . Carefree and unbound by whatever pre-conceived notions you had in your head about what part you were to play as you moved through life. He found himself adoring it. Adoring you. He kissed the crown of your head.

After another unknown length of time, your absent-minded tracing of his forearms reminded you that he had a watch. You titled his wrist towards you.

“Shit, it’s three in the morning.”

“How time flies,” Dutch murmured, and you were sure he was close to falling asleep.

“Hey,” you sat up, “we definitely can’t fall asleep here.”

“No,” Dutch sat up reluctantly, already missing your warmth and chasing it by wrapping his arms around your abdomen and placing a kiss on your shoulder. “Come stay in my bed.”

“What?” you tutted, “are you insane?”

“Some have said so.”

“No way,” you laughed, swinging your legs off the sofa and finding your jeans, your top... “hey, where did you throw my underwear?”

Dutch shrugged, immediately following suit and grabbing his joggers from the floor. You frowned at him. “What?”

You reached over to his joggers and into his pocket. Lo and behold.

“What?” Dutch repeated.

You dressed quickly, walking out of the living room and up the stairs, then into Dutch’s room. You sighed, deciding where to look first. After a minute, Dutch caught up and leant casually on the doorframe while you searched his room.

“What is it, you lunatic?” he asked casually.

You huffed, giving up rather quickly. “Where are they.”

“Where are what?”

“My pants. They grey ones, with the lace. I know you have them,” you pointed accusingly at him.

Dutch broke out into a grin, a laugh accompanying it that you knew would be much heartier if you weren’t sneaking around in the dead of night. He walked nonchalantly to his nightstand, opened the drawer, and then held up the pants for you to see.

The bastard! You could hardly believe what you were seeing.

“I have been looking for those,” you scolded, going to grab them but he just lifted him further out of your reach. “Give them back!”

“Possession is nine-tenths of the law,” he said, annoyingly.

“You stole them!”

“You left them here.”

“You’re a liar.”

Dutch smirked.

You made another futile attempt at grabbing them and failed. “They’re my favourite pair!”

“Mine too,” he said diplomatically.

“You’re a fucking pervert,” you narrowed your brow at him, placing your hands on your hips.

Dutch just shrugged. “None of us are perfect. Except maybe you,” he teased, giving you a patronising pat on the head.

So, even now, he still had time for games. You stripped off your jeans to reach your current underwear that he’d too tried to steal and pulled them off before redressing in just your jeans. “What are you doing?”

“Trade,” you held them out to him. “You can have these ones if you insist on being deranged. But I want those back.”

“Aw, no,” he shook his head disapprovingly, “it’s much less fun when you give them to me.”

“So you admit you stole them?”

Dutch didn’t respond, instead reached out and snatched the ones you held, joining them in his other hand.

“Dutch!” you said in a hushed voice.

“I’m a man with needs,” he countered, like a child hoarding toys they didn’t want to share, or a dog that had issues with resource-guarding.

“And I’m a woman with no underwear!”

“It’s a souvenir of our first meeting.”

“And what about that pair?” you shunted your hand at his newest theft.

He shrugged. “Sport, I guess.”

With a fold of your arms, you tried to give him an angry look but with his smirk, tousled hair, and fucked-out, tired expression, your smile cracked. The man was nuts, but you couldn’t deny that he was funny. “Fine. I give up,” you opened up your arms in surrender, then walked past him.

“You really aren’t staying here?”

“Not if I want to leave with my clothes.”

“I’m not interested in the rest of your clothes.”

“You have no shame.” Dutch smiled at that, pleased with himself. “And I’m tired. I will see you in the morning.” You gave him your best doe eyes and gently made your way towards him, brushing a hand over his arm. “Goodnight, Mr Van der Linde,” you said sweetly, leaning up to kiss him and when he returned your affections you reached for the pants clutched in his hands, for him to move them out of reach once more.

He chuckled, taking his lips from yours. “Nice try.”

“Bastard,” you grumbled, turning on your heels and exiting his room.

Once in the spare room, you quickly changed into a baggy top and wished you could have a shower, but that would have to wait. Although, something about falling asleep with Dutch still filling your insides was a rather erotic thought. With a silent thanks to the existence of contraception, your tiredness caught up with you and you didn’t even remember falling asleep.

Your choices came back to haunt you when you awoke the next morning, no longer feeling sexy and instead just feeling grimy. It was enough to get you out of bed, and you thanked the stars the shower was free.

When you walked downstairs, fresh-faced and clean, you were greeted with an empty kitchen but heard the television in the next room. In there, you found John, half-dead on the sofa.

“Morning Johnny,” you crooned leaning on the sofa with a teasing smile.

John’s response was a groan, and he shifted slightly from his face-down position to crank an eye open at you. If he only knew what that poor sofa witnessed a few hours previous.

“Would you like some coffee?”

“Please,” he murmured, and you almost felt sorry for him. However, the knowledge that he wouldn’t learn his lesson and would absolutely repeat his actions blocked your empathy from fully forming.

“Alright,” you laughed, making your way back into the kitchen and looking over the fancy coffee machine. After figuring out how to work it, you waited while the machine whirled, and it wasn’t long before the kitchen door opened behind you.

“Good morning,” came Dutch’s gruff voice, and you turned to offer him a smile. He seemed genuinely pleased to see you, and you supposed you did have a track record of disappearing before morning.

“Morning,” you greeted back, moving one of the cups out of the way for another. “Would you like a coffee?”

“Sure,” Dutch came up beside you, placing a ginger hand on your black while he pressed the button for a black coffee.

“Huh, you really are crazy.”

“You don’t like black coffee?”

“I read that those who do are more likely to be psychopaths.”

Dutch smirked, tracing his fingers up your back to your shoulder and leaning down to your ear. “Then you better watch yourself.”

You turned your head to him, and you half thought the two of you were about to share a kiss when the machine beeped to let you know it was finished. Clearing your throat, you gripped his mug along with John’s and handed them to him. “That’s for your son. He’s next door.”

“Aren’t you an obliging woman,” he took the mugs from you with a wink and walked into the living room. You heard them chatting, mainly Dutch poking fun at John, while you made your own drink and joined John on the sofa when you were finished.

“All in all, good birthday then?”

John nodded, placing his mug down on the coffee table and snuggling up beside you. You snorted a laugh, and when you glanced at Dutch you could’ve sworn a wave of jealousy passed over his face.

The three of you sat chatting for some time while the news played in the background until John began to get antsy at not yet having a cigarette. Dutch decided to join him for one, leaving you alone. That was when you saw Dutch’s phone on the table, and an idea came to mind.

You picked it up, smiling briefly and the sweet picture of his three kids that made up his background, then wiped that image from your memory to prepare for what you were about to do. They’d be at least a few minutes, and you’d hear the back door when they decided to come inside. You shucked off your trousers and hiked up your shirt, sliding Dutch’s phone to the side to access his camera. You lay on the sofa, attempting to find a good angle and being pleased the lighting was forgiving in here. Once in a position you were happy with, you snapped a quick photo, closed his phone and returned it to its spot. Swiftly, you redressed and sat back on the sofa, with a few minutes to spare before the pair returned.

You weren’t sure if there was anything planned for the day, and while you didn’t want to overstay your welcome you figured out another way to tease Dutch one last time before your departure. Who knows when you were to see him again, after all.

Once you’d washed up the mugs, you leant on the breakfast bar to pull out your phone and book a taxi while John and Dutch came in from the garden.

“You two up to much today?” Dutch asked casually, and John leaned up beside you.

“No, I’m actually going in a few.”

“You’re welcome to stay for a bit,” John offered kindly, looking slightly more alive after some caffeine and tobacco.

“Thank you, but that’s alright. I’ve got some stuff I need to get done.”

“Well, I can give you a lift to the station,” Dutch interjected, adding, “John’s probably still far over the legal limit to drive.”

John laughed to himself in agreement, and you paused to raise your brows at Dutch.

“That won’t be necessary. I’ve already booked my taxi,” you held up your phone screen for him to see, the taxi only a couple of minutes away.

Dutch’s face twitched at your defiance, and you made a show of walking around the kitchen and slinging your overnight bag onto your shoulder.

“See you in a few weeks, John,” you hugged him, and smiled kindly at Dutch once John released you. “Nice to see you again, Mr Van der Linde.”

“Yeah, thanks for coming,” said John, and Dutch gave you a barely noticeable shake of his head, but his playful smile was prevalent. “Goodbye, miss,” he added.

With that, a satisfied smile grew on your face, and you made your way out of the Van der Linde house once more.

#dutch van der linde x reader #dutch van der linde x f!reader #dutch x reader #dutch van der linde #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 #fanfiction #my stuff

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someone-took-lost · 4 months

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new designs. new designs. let’s go!!

right off the bat, cabaret and millennium are the keepers of this batch, as i just wasn’t the happiest with star and prim. these two were just not my leads of the group, since for this i played around with other concepts for the designs. and in the end, the two i’m keeping were just my favorites. cabaret will likely end up being someone else’s kiddo, but for this, millennium is definitely what i most intended for the characters.

but for now, here are the brief descriptions of each of ‘em that i used to help with the designing process.

cabaret cantor [they/she/he|gay|oldest]

suave and smooth, cabaret is the dramatic focus of most conversations whenever they’re in the room. they’re a specialist in “doing whatever they want.” and an expert in “talking out of their ass.” as said by their closest friends. needless to say, cabaret is ambitious and a show-off, but tends to be more show-off than ambition. they love to dance, and especially in a theatre capacity, and are willing to preform for just about any occasion brought up. and their most favorite being particularly for charity events, as a big part of the reason they like to bring attention to themself is so that they are able to bring a light to others. and help those who have no voice, sing their hearts desires.

star stunned [he/him|straight|oldest]

a specialist in rhinestone designs, star is a dress designer who also studies the stars. he watches them from the canterlot observatory, and from his telescope from his mother’s home’s balcony. and he dreams of them falling to earth with their pleasant glow in his hooves. star is quiet, and tends to keep to himself within the boutique. sowing, and sketching new designs, while marking the movement of stars. he’s a regular bookworm, who has some trouble being any sort of group focus. but slowly, but surely, he’s working on getting to know everyone around him. he’s just nervous is all.

primrose quartz [she/her|pansexual|oldest]

the grounded and sweet pony of old, acropolis is a researcher who dedicates herself to her studies in full. she dreams of one day creating a library filled with historic tombs and texts, and she gleams at any and all opportunities she gets to bookkeep and study. acropolis is a specialist in ancient architecture, and seeks to bring back what was lost and show those today the beauty of what once was. and sometimes she can get a little too passionate about it--she could go on long lectures and spiels on their development to today, probably all within a single breath. which tends to leave those listening in a snooze, and leaving her in a disappointed spiral of upset.

millennium diamond [they/he|pansexual|oldest]

as their name suggests, millennium is the million dollar pony who dresses in finery, and buys it too. they’re a business mogul, who specializes in creating jewelry and selling it. they’re a creative, who seeks to use their talents for more than just show, but also marketability. and while it isn’t a terrible trait, it can lead them to come off as cold and calculating, when really they’re just very cunning and constantly thinking of their next move.

#art #digital art #artwork #illustration #horse #horses #pony #ponies #blueblood #rarity #rarity belle #prince blueblood #mlp #mlp fim #my little pony next gen #my little pony

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harryarchiv · 2 years

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#harry styles #love on tour #hslot #hslot la night 1 #la night 1 #harry styles love on tour #harry styles love on tour la night 1 #hslot la n1 #la n1 #love on tour la night 1 #love on tour la n1 #harry styles love on tour la n1 #tpwk #treat people with kindness #i fell asleep before he went on stage this night and remember being so sad over it #my friends were all texting about it and my ass was SNOOZING

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shoyosthighs · 3 years

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1 Month Challenge

Hinata Shoyo X f!reader (SMUT 🔞)

Sum: A challenge came up by Hinata before he leave for a month of intensive volleyball training 🤭 (timeskip MSBY Hinata)

Warnings: +18 MDI, dirty talk, unprotected sex, oral receiving (both ways), hard edging, dirty talk, daddy shoyo, 69, hard orgasm deny, creampie, basically really filthy smut

Word count: 2504 words

Author’s Note: Its been 8 years since I last written smut HAHA please spare me 😭 Im loving timeskip buff hinata currently and this plot is something similar I saw on p*rn so I decided to write it 🤭

________________________________

“Sho! Have you packed all your stuff?” You shouted from the kitchen from you and Hinata’s apartment. Preparing breakfast for him before he leaves for his intensive training in Brazil with the MSBY team in an hour.

“Yes baby” Hinata whispered in your ears from behind while snaking his arms to your waist and pressing you to his chest. “Can you pass me the soy-sauce, I made your favorite” you kiss him on the cheek while preparing his favorite Japanese rice with raw egg and soy-sauce.

“What did I do to deserve you baby” he wipe his fake tear smiling at you while passing you the soy-sauce.

“Baby girl, remember to take care of yourself okay? I will be back in a month. I know your college exams are coming soon but without me reminding you to eat you wouldn’t eat, so please remember to eat okay?” You nodded while pouting, didn’t really want him to leave.

“I will tell Yams to check up on you too” he side-eye you, knowing you will forget to take care of yourself once you indulge yourself into studying. “You’re so nagging haha” you pass him a cup of ice chocolate while ruffling his hair.

“Anyway baby, before I leave let’s come up with a challenge?” he asked while helping you wash the dishes and drying it. He pulled you to the couch and sat down while pulling you onto his lap, straddling him.

“What’s up your sleeve again?” You run your hands cupping his head from behind and play with his fluffy orange hair. “You see, I will be gone for a month and we won’t get to fuck” he said in a teasing voice. Knowing him, your high sex drive boyfriend for 2 years he will be having this dirty thoughts 24/7.

“And yeah what about it?” You rest your cheek on his chest and hug his waist instead. “Don’t touch yourself for a month, and when I come back I will breed you till morning” he smirk at you. “Hey not fair, what about you?” Knowing his horny ass he will probably run to the bathroom to finish himself off, “Both of us, it’s a challenge for both of us”

“I am up for it, but can you?” You tease him back. “You bet” he kiss you on the lips while carrying you into your shared bedroom, breeding you for the last time before he leaves for training.

It was already the 3rd week since Hinata has gone for his intensive training in Brazil, he had been sending you photos of himself shirtless almost everyday, but a prominent outline of his hard dick is seen on this jersey pants in every picture.

my ninja sho❤️: Im sooo horny baby🙁 i wanna ruin you so bad 😘

you: shoyo… HAHAHAHAA just how hard are you 🤣🤣🤣

my ninja sho❤️: Just you wait, 1 more week and you won’t be able to walk after im done with you 🙃

you: 🤭🤭🤭🤭

Truth to be told, you was so close to touching yourself and relieving yourself, but you really wanted to see how long can you hold onto it. You busied yourself with studying, playing the new game you downloaded, eating lunch and having tea time with Yamaguchi in the cafe that you, Hinata, Yamaguchi and Tsukishima like to hang out in your free time. Yachi and Kageyama joined sometime too but Yachi has moved to Osaka for college and Kageyama was busy with travelling because of his volleyball career.

“So how are you coping without Shoyo?” Yamaguchi stop scrolling his phone, looked at you while sipping his frappe. “What do you mean?” You acted blur, you know what Yamaguchi was implying. But you didn’t want to remember anything of Hinata that will get you riled up.

“Oh come on, you two are the second horniest couple I have know. Well Tsukki and (tsukki’s gf name) being the first” he laughed since all of you had been friends since high school years.

“Not saying anything~~~~ don’t ask anymore before I tell your girlfriend you wanna get it” you smiled not hiding the intention of killing. “Jeez ok ok im kidding” he laughed while seeing his girlfriend of 4 years outside the cafe. You and Yamaguchi then meet her outside and walked home for a movie night.

Hinata had just landed into Japan, after getting into the van with the team he texted you to let you know that he will be home in 2 hours. You were eating dinner when your phone pinged, you replied him with a ‘Okie hurry up 😭’ you had missed him, 1 month without hugs from him was quite depressing for you, the house seems quiet without him singing loudly while showering.

You had brought a white crotchless underwear to surprise him, you quickly showered, change into an oversized white t-shirt and slip on the lewd panties. You turned on the tv while watching the 7pm show that you had been chasing since last week.

Time passed by quickly but you were getting sleepy, so you grab your blanket and wrap yourself on the couch snoozing off for a bit, thinking to have a 10 minutes nap before Hinata comes home. But your snooze was interrupted by Hinata’s loud “MY LITTLE BABY!!! YOUR FAVORITE ABS IS HOME!!!”

You jolted awake and rush to jump onto on Hinata, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. Luckily your shirt was long to cover your ass because Hinata’s quick reflex supported them before you could fall. “I miss you so much baby” you whispered lightly while peppering kisses around his neck.

“I miss you so much too” he put you down on the floor and wrap his arms around your waist and kisses your forehead, nose and lips. After the small reunion, Hinata was in the shower and you were on the bed thinking about the steamy night that was about to happen. Just before Hinata went to shower he whispered “Prepare to be ruin by my cock tonight my little slut” this little cheeky tangerine, you thought as you clenched your pussy getting excited.

Hinata’s hands were running up and down your body as soon as he came out of the bathroom naked, “What? Im gonna fuck you anyway, why bother wearing clothes hehe” he chuckled when you glance at him in disbelief. He was kissing you slipping his tongue in to taste you while pulling off your t-shirt, he knew you didn’t wore any bra so he when straight at sucking your nipple while toying the other, his other hand going straight down south, wanting to feel how wet you are outside your panties but was caught by surprise when he touched skin.

“Do you like my surprise?” you said softly to his ear. He glanced up at you, “You are driving me crazy holyshit” he pushed you down onto your shared bed, brought both your legs up and spread your thighs wide to look at his surprise. “You are so fucking wet, you’re literally drenched” he move down collected some of your arousal and show it to you, “Sho, stop it. It’s embarrassing” you cover your face with both hand. Who knew not touching yourself and not cumming for 1 month made you this wet just by kissing your boyfriend.

“If you don’t move your hands away now, you won’t be getting any dick tonight” he said sternly. You were quick to remove your hand and he chuckled at how desperate you are. “You better not hold back your moans if you want to get fucked tonight you little slut” he turned your hip sideways, slip your panties off and slapped your ass, you moaned feeling yourself clenched again. “Do you hear me?” Hinata slapped your ass again when you didn’t answer, “Yes daddy” you whimpered, feeling extremely horny by how Hinata is treating you. Its really been awhile.

Hinata placed you back on your back and spread your legs again, hands holding onto the back of your thighs and diving into your drenched pussy, “Oh fuck daddy it feels so good” you clench your fist onto the bedsheets, back arching. You had been eating pineapple for the past 3weeks in prepare for today, “Why do you taste sweeter than usual baby? Did you had pineapple or what?” He lifted his head up to look at you, man the sight of him wet chin, wet lips full of your juice. You just nodded and clenched your pussy feeling the lost of touch, Hinata look down and the sight of your cunt clenched while juices dripping down made him want to just take you right here right now, but he steadied himself and dive back down to your pussy slipping his tongue into your tight pussy, tasting everything you have to offer.

Not even a minute had pass but you were writhing under Hinata, “Im gonna cum daddy” you whimpered, arching your back and grinding your hips into Hinata’s face desperate for the first orgasm after a month. You almost screamed when Hinata lift his face off your wet aching pussy, “Tonight you are gonna cum on my cock and only my cock” you whimpered a small yes daddy, panicking a little. When Hinata is serious he won’t hesitate to deny you orgasm and you wouldn’t want that.

“Now come and suck daddy off before I fuck your brains out” he lay next to you and you didn’t hesitate to take his already hard cock around your hand slipping the head to your parted lips, Hinata glances sideways to see you still dripping from your pussy, he tapped your ass and you turn back to look at him, lips still on his cock. “Sit on my face” knowing he loves 69 you quickly lift one of your legs and drape it over his head. Shifting your drenched slick infront of his face you move your mouth down to take Hinata’s warm cock into your mouth, “Oh fuck, your mouth feel so good” at this point Hinata wants to see how long he and you could stand denying orgasms before snapping.

You were a hot mess above Hinata, he had denied your orgasm 5 times while you had denied him 3 because you took slower stroke to work him up. Your pussy is literally drenched and sticky, you really couldn’t take it anymore its starting to hurt and you really need to cum, “Daddy please fuck me I need your cock” you turned behind and look at him. “My favorite” he lift himself up and you got on all fours facing the headboard, back arched with your cheeks squish onto the pillow. “Please daddy i am so wet for you, I had been a good girl, I want your cock please”

Hinata thinking he too couldn’t hold it back anymore line up his cock up your pussy lips rubbing up and down to tease you for a bit, he chuckled when you whimpered another please daddy and slip in all the way. You were so tight despite how wet you was prior to the foreplay and its driving Hinata crazy by how warm and wet you felt. “Holyshit baby you are so tight and warm”

You couldn’t think straight, all you could think was if Hinata were to move a few times you will cum soon. He slowly slip out dragging his thick cock veins around your walls and then slamming it back, “Fuck daddy im gonna cum” he continue to slam his cock into your pussy and then pull out completely and look down at your pussy, you were literally sobbing by now you clenched onto nothing and grind your hips wanting Hinata to just fuck your brains out.

You subconsciously slip your finger between your legs to relieve some tension on your pussy but Hinata hold your fingers by your folds, using his hand he guide it and circle it on your hole, you whimpered at how drenched you were, “Look at you wet and horny for me, since you’re being such a good girl daddy won’t hold back anymore okay” He line his rock hard cock back on your pussy and slip in, “I want you to cum hard on my cock okay” he leaned down and you nodded, preparing for his brutal thrust. At his 5th thrust your pussy had clamp down his cock and had you squirting all over your leg, you didn’t had the chance to tell him you were coming, Hinata had to pull out and watch you squirt all over the bedsheet and thinking how fucking hot you were currently.

“Look at you, so desperate to cum that you squirted all over our bed. What a little slut” he was gripping your ass and had continued his fucking your brains out. Your pussy is clenching onto him for the 4th time cumming hard on his dick and he had emptied 3 load of cum into your womb by then, holding you down while shooting his load into you. He weren’t kidding when he say he wanted to breed you.

Your lower half was sore by midnight, Hinata was now lying down with you on top of him grinding and whimpering at how hard he still is, both of your cum making your lower body full of white stains. “Sho- I-I can’t-t im gonna cum again” you grind harder onto his cock while throwing your head back, “Me too baby” he thrust up and hold your hips making you fall to his chest taking in the loud skin slapping and wet squelching sound you both produced, “Shoyo omg please please please harder im so close” he feel your walls clenching hard on him again and you cum hard onto his cock again for the nth time tonight while he shoot his almost nonexistent cum into you again, he really unloaded everything with nothing left. Soft moans filled the room as you lift yourself off his finally limped dick and plopped yourself beside him catching your breath.

“Stay here while i prepare the bath for you okay” you gave him a tired smile and close your eyes for a bit still feeling your body hot from the activity. Hinata came back and gave you a kiss on your sweaty forehead and carried you bridal style to the bathtub filled with warm water with your favorite bath bomb scent.

(EXTRAS)

Hinata was at the MSBY locker room the next afternoon for their short meeting/training regarding an upcoming match. He was shirtless was trying to put on his training jersey when Atsumu gasped, “HOLYSHIT SHOYO WHAT HAPPEN TO YOUR BACK?” All he could do was smile sheepishly and said “My little cat scratch me”

You weren’t spare either, you had to call Yamaguchi telling him you were sick the next morning because of how sore you were and you were literally limping even going to the bathroom. And had to cover the hickeys around your neck before going to school.

(A/N:It’s literally almost 4am here and Im also drenched after writing this fic, I HOPE YOU ENJOY 😭😭😭 reblog and comments welcomed ❤️)

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hogwartsmarvelmommy · 3 years

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The lighthouse that guided me H.H ❤️🔥

~Best friends brother

🌼🌸Masterlist🌼🌸

this is 18+ only!

word count: 9.9k

(HarryHollandXReader)

summery: Sam knew you and his brother would hit it off, so he made you promise to not fall in love with his twin... easier said than done.

Warnings: Swearing, miscarriage, blood, smut. (additional warnings under the cut)

Warnings: unprotected sex, oral (F & M receiving) fingering, some dirty talk (But like not really) protected sex.

A/N: ok... i really only planned for this to be like 2-3k words, but i just couldn't stop... hope you like it :)

It was the insistent pounding that woke you up. The first thought in your head was how you were going to kill him for interrupting a perfectly good dream. With a loud, rather dramatic groan you rolled out of bed and flung open your door. Sam looked like he was stressed beyond belief. Pushing past you, he came into the room plopping down onto your bed and groaning before burying his face in his hands. This was not a sight you were used to, usually your best friend was a happy go lucky guy, but right now he seemed to be anything but.

"Sam, what's wrong?" Suddenly all the anger from being awoken so early left you, seeing him in distress was bad enough. You closed your door and went over to him, crouching down in front of him, hoping the boy would talk to you so you could offer some sort of help.

"There coming," he groaned. Who was he talking about? Who was coming? You were about to ask when he spoke up again, "my brothers want to see where I live and go to school, there on a plane now,"

You felt all that worry dissipate instantly. Did he seriously wake you up at the ass crack of dawn because his brothers wanted to come spend some quality time with him on his free week. Why did he always have to be so dramatic?

With a roll of your eyes you let out a chuckle. "Seriously Sammy? That's what's wrong?"

"Y/n, they're going to judge all of this," you looked around your room, there was nothing out of the ordinary really, just a bed, a dresser and some random nick knacks.

"My room?" You asked, confused.

"No, our apartment," he said. You were a bit taken aback. Yes your apartment was rather small and lacked a lot of decor, but for two broke college kids it was what you could do.

“What is wrong with the apartment?” you asked him, verging on offended. You had put in a lot of effort to make the place your own. From the beer bottle wreath on the pantry door to the pong wall of champions. It wasn't much but it was home, and that's what mattered.

“I need to tell you something,” he sighed slightly looking up to you. “I come from a very well off family, and i am nowhere near broke, i just don't want to flaunt the money i have around,” you weren't sure you'd heard him right, the boy you'd lived with for three years, who you considered your closest and best friend was telling you he was in fact not broke? When there had been times you ate microwave noodles for lack of anything else in the house.

“So you have money?” you asked, your confusion was evident in your tone.

“I'm sorry,” he sighed.

“Why would you lie about that?” You wondered. You were taken aback at your best friend's confession. Confused and a little hurt were just the brink of it. Why did he think he had to lie to you? After all this time?

“It was easier. I didn't want to worry about anyone just befriending me because of money,” He explained. You rolled your eyes, not sure if that was an acceptable explanation, but for now it was what you were getting.

“Well where are your brothers staying?” You asked him.

He sighed in relief at the fact that you weren't completely ripping him a new one. “Can they take your room, and you can crash in mine?” He suggested.

“Absolutely not!” You exclaimed.

“Y/N!” he groaned out.

“You give them your room and you take the futon in the living room,” You told him, smacking his cheek lightly.

“You're the worst,” He groaned. “But I need a favor,” he muttered.

“I swear if you ask me-”

“Can you take me to pick them up at the airport?” He interrupted.

“And he asked it,” You sighed walking out of the room.

“Y/N? Is that a yes?” He called out after you.

“Fine Sam, but you owe me big!” You exclaimed before shutting the bathroom door.

You had met Sam your first day at the University, and instantly the two of you had clicked. You oftentimes would say the two of you were half-soulmates, like half of your soul was Sam’s but the other half you hadn't meant quite yet. You understood Sam, and he understood you, and it was easy. You knew he had brothers, but mostly when he'd get time off school he would fly from Scotland back to London to visit them instead of vice versa.

So despite spending most of the last four years together, you had never met them.

You got yourself showered and put together before going to find Sam, who was a mess. “You look like a train hit you,” You told him as you stood in his doorway.

“Y/N, that's not helpful,” He groaned.

“Well let's go get your brothers,” you announced, grabbing your car keys from the counter.

“Wait,” He exclaimed. You turned to look at him, waiting to hear what he had to say. “I need you to promise me something,” He muttered.

“What?”

“My brother, Harry, my twin. I need you to promise you won't fall in love with him,” He told you. You nearly doubled over laughing, you couldn't imagine falling in love with anyone, much less someone related to the Div you called your best friend.

“Yeah I'm sure that won't be a problem,” You chuckled.

“Y/N, i’m serious, the instant you guys meet you're going to click, and if you think me and you have a lot in common, i can promise you, that Harry and you will have more,” He explained. You realized he was completely serious.

“OK Sammy, i'll do my best to not fall in love with your twin brother,” You nodded at him. He took a deep breath before finally walking towards you.

“Let's do this,” He muttered.

The airport was crowded, much like you had expected, but you still found yourself trudging through the packed areas to the waiting area to wait for Sam's brothers. “When is their plane set to land?” you wondered looking up at the screen that had all the flight information.

“They just landed. Tom texted me to let me know,” He told you as he stood waiting impatiently.

“Why are you so nervous? There only your brothers Sammy,” you tried to get him to calm down.

“Look at that mane!” You heard from a group of people that had just entered the waiting area from the landing pad. You saw the color drain from your best friends face as he turned and saw a curly haired boy coming at him. Sam opened his arms as the boy crashed into him, hugging him tight and muttering things back and forth to each other.

“Did you have to leave me?” A man asked as he walked up to the three of you, glancing at you and flashing you a smile before throwing his own arms around the already hugging pair.

The three of them hugging was cute, and it made you wonder why Sam was so nervous in the first place to have them here, since he looked so happy now.

“Ok, Guys this y/n, my best friend and roommate,” Sam told them, turning the two boys' attention over to you.

"Hi," you mumbled, feeling rather shy suddenly.

"You weren't joking when you sai-" Sam smacked Harry in the back of the head before he could finish what he was saying. "I meant hi," he told you, extending his hand out to you.

You took his hand in yours, noting how attractive his hands were. His grip was tight as he shook your hand, staring into your eyes with the most breathtaking brown orbs you had ever seen. You weren't even aware you could think brown eyes were so beautiful. His curls had fallen to his forehead, giving him a boyish look, but dear God did he pull it off. No wonder Sam had asked you to not fall in love with his brother, just looking at him had your stomach in butterflies. You let go of his hand, looking away hoping your best friend wouldn't pick up on how easily you were taken aback by his brother.

The older boy 'Tom' extended his hand as well shaking yours and saying hello, before the four of you headed down to the baggage claim.

Both boys found their bags quickly and then it was off to your car. "Shotgun," Harry yelled as you unlocked the door.

"What? No!" Sam argued.

"You snooze, you lose Sammy, and it looks like you just lost," you laughed as Harry smirked triumphantly, throwing his bag into the trunk before sliding into the front seat. You knew Sam was nervous to get back to the flat. Worried that maybe his brothers would judge you based on the appearance of your place.

You parked the car and led the boys up to your place, unlocking it and slipping inside.

"Wall of champions huh?" Tom asked as he admired the drunk scribbles of the pong wall.

"Me and Sammy boy are undefeated," you announced proudly pointing to the top where your names were scribbled out.

"No," Harry laughed, shaking his head, "there is no way, Sam is awful, and has never won. Ever!"

"Board doesn't lie, red," you told him, shooting Sam a smile.

"Prove it," Harry said.

You looked at Sam who had a mischievous look plastered on his face, neither of you were ones to back down from a challenge. So you spent the early afternoon drinking and Whooping Sam's brothers asses at beer pong. Easily.

"She carries you," Tom told Sam as he dropped himself onto the futon.

"Does not!" Sam argued with a laugh.

"No she does," Harry confirmed.

"Oh piss off," Sam laughed, shoving his way in-between his brothers on the sad excuse for a couch you had. "We need a new couch," he groaned.

"Let's go shopping for one," Tom said randomly.

"We're drunk," you pointed out.

"We can Uber," Tom laughed. You rolled your eyes but reluctantly agreed.

You stood in your living room in your fuzzy pajama pants and tank top staring at the giant couch that was now taking up a majority of the room and the two sleeping boys on it.

"We actually did that?" Sam groaned, walking out of his room in only boxers. "I've never been so drunk in my life,"

"Day drinking for the win," you told him, holding your fist up for him to bump. The prior night consisted of way too much drinking and then shopping at furniture stores, before going to a pub for more drinking. If you were honest with yourself, you didn't even recall getting the sectional into the apartment.

Your head was pounding and you felt like you had been hit by a bus. So you opted to exclude yourself from any activities Sam had planned for him and his brothers, and instead spend the day catching up on your studies.

You found yourself sprawled out on the new couch with books around you as you worked on your laptop. Regardless of the fact it was a drunk purchase, you had to admit the couch was pretty comfortable.

You didn't realize you had fallen asleep until you were woken up by someone moving beside you. You sat up watching as Harry settled in. He glanced over to you and sighed.

"Sorry I was trying to avoid waking you," he said apologetically.

"S'ok, where's Sam and Tom?" You asked.

"Club," he chuckled. You rolled your eyes, before grabbing the books from next to you and setting them onto the table.

"You didn't want to go?" You asked.

"Not in the mood," he said, smiling at you. You felt a tad guilty about being happy Harry had chosen to not go, opting instead to hang out with you. Sam had been right, you and Harry had A LOT in common, so talking and joking with him came almost naturally. He radiated positivity, it was like if he was a color, it was yellow 100%

After a couple hours of talking about everything you could think of, the room fell silent. "Let's go on an adventure," Harry suggested.

"An adventure?" You wondered.

"Why not?" He laughed.

"I'm not very adventurous," you admitted coyly.

"That's ok, we'll figure something out. Let's just drive until inspiration strikes,"he said, standing up and extending his hand for you to take.

Your decision to say yes was probably where everything went wrong, but looking back.. you would do everything the same if you were given a second chance.

You parked your car on the side of the lake. Looking over at Harry with a skeptical look. "You gonna back out?" He asked.

"Harry, it's only like 68° out here," you reminded him. He nodded with a smile before opening the door and getting out of the car. Somehow both of the Holland twins had a way of convincing you to do crazy things.

You got out, feeling the chill of the air make goosebumps raise on your skin. "Harry, I'm not sure about this," you admitted walking towards where he was now standing on the dock.

"Me either, but it's not an adventure without a little hesitation," he told you.

"Who told you that?" You asked, laughing. He thought about it for a minute and shrugged.

"Ok, let's do it," he told you, giving you a nod. You sighed nodding back before slowly peeling your pants down your legs and then your shirt over your head. You took a deep breath before removing your underwear and then unclipping your bra.

You stood completely naked staring out at the ice cold water, not daring to look at the boy beside you, no matter how badly you wanted to. You felt his fingers interlace with yours. “Ready?” He asked.

“Nope. let's do it,” You told him, squeezing his hand. You followed his movements. As soon as his body lunged forward, yours followed, hitting the icy water almost instantly. It felt as if there were pins and needles poking you on every inch of your body, and when you finally came back up to the surface, you gasped trying to catch your breath, your body tensed up from the shock of the temperature.

"Adventures. Are. Dumb." You shuttered. You could see Harry's teeth catering together.

"That. That was stupid," he admitted swimming back to the dock and pulling himself out. He reached out his hand, grabbing yours and hoisting you back onto the dock.

"Remind me to never go on an adventure with you again," you laughed, before realizing something. "We don't have towels,"

Harry's eyes widened, "no we don't," you stood on the dock, completely naked trying to shield your body.

"I have a blanket in my hatch. We can turn on the heater and sit under it until we're dry," you offered.

"That sounds good," he told you before grabbing the clothes from the ground. You rushed to your car, opening the trunk and jumping in. Luckily you had left the keys in the ignition, so all it took was you leaning over the seat to crank on the car. Forgetting about your completely exposed state. Harry pulled the hatch closed as he crawled into the car, tossing the clothes into the back seat and unfolding the blanket. You plopped down beside him, pulling the corner to cover yourself, hoping the heater would warm the two of you up fast.

After a few (awkward) moments, Harry finally spoke up. "You have a nice body," he said quietly. You felt your cheeks heat up at his words.

"Harry, were you looking at my naked body?" You joked, knowing it would have been impossible for him to have not seen you.

"I mean, when I came to crawl in you were bent over the back seat. Like on full display. Would have been hard to not look," he laughed, turning away to hide the blush that was gracing his ears and cheeks. "This trunk is roomy," he said, trying to change the subject.

"Me and Sam had to sleep in here once, hence the blanket," you told him.

"So you two?" Harry wondered.

"No, never. He's like my half-soulmate, like in a friendly way, you know?" You asked.

"Well he's my womb mate so kind of," he admitted. You couldn't help but laugh. "You know, we will probably warm up faster, if we're closer," Harry said shyly. His logic was right, but you were worried about your self control.

"Yeah, ok," you mumbled, scooting closer, until your leg was touching his.

"Can I put my arm around you?" He asked. You nodded quickly. You let out a sigh of relief at his warmth,as you let yourself snuggle into his body, being cautious not to place your hands anywhere questionable.

It was nice. It was strangely intimate as well. "Sam told us you were beautiful, but I can't believe how breathtaking you are," Harry said quietly after a few minutes. You glanced up to his face, his eyes were closed, and it seemed like he was trying to focus on his breathing.

"Are you just saying that because you have seen me naked?" You asked. He laughed, before opening his eyes and looking at you.

His eyes met yours, and it was like you were each seeing something you had been looking for for way too long. You saw his eyes shift down to your lips.

"No, Y/N, you are just breathtaking, clothes and all," he told you, brushing stray hairs from your face.

Your next movements were slow. You glanced down to his lips, and back to his eyes before slowly leaning in, giving him plenty of time to curve your movements, but he didn't. Instead he followed them.

"We shouldn't," you whispered, faces so close you could feel his breath on your lips.

"I know," he told you. You bit your bottom lip, before looking into his eyes. There was something about Harry, something that was throwing all your inhibitions out the window. All you could think about was how his lips would feel on yours. His hand reached up, rubbing his thumb across your face, you closed your eyes and leaned in, closing the distance between your lips.

The second your lips met you felt something ignite in you. He kissed you slowly, not rushing into anything. His lips were soft and warm, and made you melt into him. Turning your body more, your naked chest pressed against his as your fingers laced themselves in the curls on the base of his neck.

As he rested his hand on your waist, squeezing lightly, as he deepened the kiss.

His tongue swiped across your lower lip, looking for access, which you quickly granted. You leaned back as his lips found themselves trailing your jaw and to your neck.

"Sam will kill us," you let out, as you threw your head back giving him more access to your neck.

"Let him," he mumbled into your neck, before continuing his task. You knew you should stop him. This was the first step, in the wrong direction. Harry was someone you could easily fall in love with, and if you stopped now, you could pretend this naked, heated, makeout session had never happened. But then his hand slid down from your waist to your thigh, as he pushed you farther back onto your back.

You pulled his face back to yours, reconnecting your lips with his in a hungry kiss.

You continued the heated kissing for a while, letting yourself lose control, something that did not come easily for you.

"Harry," you moaned into his lips, making him lift his head.

"Tell me what you want darling," he told you, face red from kissing you. You pushed him up and over so he was sitting again.

"Do you want me?" You asked. He nodded quickly, grabbing your waist to pull you over to him. You threw one of your legs over his, and let him get himself situated, grabbing his hard member and lining it up to your entrance. You let yourself sink down slowly onto him, enjoying the initial feeling of him filling you up.

"Christ, y/n, you're so tight," he groaned, as he bottomed out on top of him. you leaned forward resting your head on his shoulder, getting used to the stretch he was giving you, before you started to move slowly. He kept his hands on your hips, helping you with your moviments, but never forcing them, letting you choose the speed of your thrusts.

Harry peppered your neck with kisses as you held onto him, letting little moans and whines escape your mouth as you rode him slowly.

He whispered sweet nothings to you, making you lose it, hearing you were 'perfect' and 'so beautiful,'

"M'So close," you moaned out, as your movements became more rigid.

"I've got you darling," Harry whispered as he took over, and began thrusting up into you, he let his hand slip between your body's, finding your bundle and rubbing it as he thrust into you. "Oh god," you groaned, throwing your head back.

"Let go for me darling," he said as he pressed open mouth kisses to your neck.

As soon as you felt him twitch inside of you, you felt the band in your stomach snap. You felt yourself convulsing around him as his thrusts became sloppy and slowed, having hit his peak with you.

You let your forehead rest against his, both of your breathing heavy. "Wow," you whispered.

"I think I like adventures with you," he chuckled, making you roll your eyes before kissing him again.

Your eyes opened to the light streaming through the window. At first you were confused at the amount of windows surrounding you, and then it hit you.

"Oh god," you groaned, sitting up.

"What?" Harry gasped, sitting straight up.

"We fell asleep," you told him as you rustled around you to find your clothes. "I don't know where my clothes are," you groaned. Harry placed a hand on your check, turning your face to him.

"Back seat darling," he told you, before leaning in and kissing you. He pulled away sooner than you would have liked and reached over the seat grabbing the clothes from last night.

You both dressed quickly, moving to the front of the car. The drive home wasn't a long one, and you were relieved when you arrived home to find that neither Sam or Tom were there.

"So," Harry said as you poured both of you a glass of water.

"What?" You giggled sliding it over to him.

"Last night was incredible for me, and I don't do the sleeping with random people thing," he told you.

"And you think I do?" You asked him.

"What? No!" He told you, nearly spitting out his water. You couldn't help but laugh. "I just mean, that I'd like to do it again, maybe take you out as well, get to know you more," he told you, reaching for your hand. You laced your fingers with his, blushing as a smile spread across your face.

"I'd like that," you whispered. Harry went to move around the counter, but as soon as he got off the stool the front door swung open and a very hungover Sam and an amused Tom came in. Pushing whatever moment you were having to the back burner.

"You let him get pissed?" You asked Tom as you rushed over to your best friend who looked like death.

"To be fair, I tried to stop him multiple times, but he kept telling me 'I'm in college I can handle my booze'" Tom laughed.

"Sammy," you groaned as you pushed him onto the couch.

"Sorry mom," he mumbled as his eyes fluttered shut.

You rolled your eyes at how dumb he could be.

"What did you guys do last night?" Tom asked, walking over to where Harry was in the kitchen.

"Went on a late night adventure," Harry told him, avoiding eye contact.

"Oh yeah? What did you do?" Tom repeated.

"Nothing really," Harry mumbled, trying to avoid Tom. But Tom knew Harry better than anyone.

"Harry?" Tom asked, making the boy look at him.

Tom gasped, looking from Harry over to you and then back. "Tell me you didn't Baz," Tom groaned.

"Didn't want?" You asked, confused.

"You two had sex," tom whisper yelled.

Your eyes grew wide and you could feel your cheeks heating up, "how would you gather that by just looking at him?" You demanded.

"Sex glow," Tom explained.

You snorted before rolling your eyes. "Oh whatever," you told him, not buying it.

"So you didn't then?" Tom asked, looking directly at Harry, who's cheeks immediately reddened. "Jesus you two, Sam is going to be livid," he informed you.

"We're not going to tell him," Harry said quickly, to which you agreed just as quickly.

Tom shook his head, "was it just the one shag? Or are there feelings?" Tom asked. You looked at Harry and bit your lip. He nodded before speaking back up. "Just the one shag, no feelings at all, " he lied.

You sat in the driver's seat of your car, waiting. Memories flooding your mind of that night weeks prior. You glanced down at your phone, checking the time again. You were being impatient, but to be fair you had been waiting for this for a long time, too long. Having had to accept secret calls and texts as enough for the time being. But now it was time, you somehow managed to clear up a weekend, and he happened to be free, and now you were going to sneak away, and not be a secret for just a few days, not have to hide behind a screen, or be a distant voice.

Your phone began to buzz in your lap and you looked down to see the contact name you had changed a few weeks ago “My baz <3”

“You here?” you asked, bringing it up to your ear.

“Just landed. Am I getting my bag and heading out to you?” he wondered.

“Yup. and then we will have two whole days uninterrupted, just us, in a virbo, naked, and sweaty and-” you were cut off by his laughing.

“Someone is clearly eager,” he told you.

“Fuck, i messed you sweetheart” he told you.

“Yes i am, the phone sex and sexting isn't doing it for me, I've literally had the real thing baby. Now I want it again, so hurry up so we can get out of town,” you groaned, as there was a knock on your window. You jumped, and turned to see him standing at your door, red curls crazy from a cat nap he had surly taken on the flight over, and a smile so big you could drown in it. You jumped from the car throwing yourself into his already full arms, making him drop his duffel bag, but he didn't seem to mind. He wrapped his arms around your waist lifting you up in his hug, and burying his face in your neck.

You could have sworn your heart skipped a beat.

"Let's go," you urged him, impatient for what you knew was to come later. You began the hour-long drive to the weekend rental you had gotten for the two of you. Making sure you would be alone, and able to not be bothered by anything. Or so you thought.

"Sam's calling you," Harry said as you turned another corner.

"What, why? He thinks I'm with my dad for the weekend," you told Harry. Looking down at your phone. Harry shrugged.

You answered the phone hoping it was nothing.

"Hello?"

"Hey, I uh, have a problem," Sam sounded worried.

"What?" You asked.

"I wanted to make sure it was okay that I invited Harry to stay with us for the two weeks we have off of school next month, because I already invited him.. and I totally forgot to ask," he muttered. You felt a smile grow on your lips.

"I don't know Sam, I'm not sure me and Harry got on well," you joked, peaking Harry's interest.

"Really?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, I just thought he was annoying and I'm pretty sure he didn't like me at all," you told him. Harry started to shake his head and roll his eyes. "I am fine with it Sammy,"

"You sure?" Sam wondered. "Cause I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable by any means,"

"Positive," you confirmed

"How's spending time with your dad?" He asked you.

"Good, hey look we just got somewhere so I gotta go, call you back later. Love you, bye," you hung up the phone before he could continue any conversation, knowing he would keep you on the phone for an hour if you let him.

"You love him?" Harry asked.

"What?"

"You love Sam?" He repeated.

"Course I do," you smiled at him.

"He's lucky to have you, you're a good friend," he told you. Your brows furrowed as you looked over to him.

"Is that what we are? Friends?" You asked. You parked the car in front of the house and turned to look at Harry.

"Do you want to be more?" He Wondered.

"I mean, the way I feel about you, I don't feel about any of my other friends," you whispered.

"And how do you feel?" He asked.

"Well, when I see that you're calling or texting me I get this feeling in my stomach, it's like an insistent fluttering, that never goes away, as long as I'm talking to you, gets me all flustered and nervous. And when you told me you were going to be able to come this weekend, I was so excited, because it meant I could spend even a second with you alone." You smiled at him before biting your lip, "I really like you,"

"I like you too y/n, more than I think I've ever liked anyone," he told you, reaching his hand out to caress your cheek. "And because of that I've had something on my mind,"

"Oh yeah? You asked

"Yeah, I mean I know it won't make much of a difference since we'll still have to keep it a secret, but I'd really like it if you were my girlfriend," he told you, his cheeks flushed red as he watched you closely for a reaction.

You leaned in close, nearly touching his lips with your own, "I would love to be your girlfriend," you whispered before closing the space between you in a kiss.

Everything with Harry was easy, even though the situation was strange, and the secrets and lying were hard, everything felt natural. Every Time you talked to him it felt like home, and you knew you were in over your head. If you had hoped to not fall in love with him, you absolutely would have been let down by yourself. You knew you were going to hell for lying to Sam, but you couldn't change the way you felt, and although you wished you weren't hurting him, you didn't regret anything you had going on with his twin brother.

You entered the little rental house, surprised at how cute and quaint the decor was. It had a very boho chic feel to it, there was a four poster bed in the middle of the room with sheer curtains streaming down. There was a little sectional in the corner with a television in front of it, and a little kitchenette to the right of the room. The owners had left a fresh vase of roses on the little table along with a basket that had chocolates and a few other things inside.

“This is romantic,” Harry said, as he looked around the room.

“The pictures were cute, and it had good reviews, i didn't expect this though,” you admitted.

Harry walked over to the bed, pushing the drape to the side and looking towards you. “Come test it out with me?” He asked. You rolled your eyes at him, but went over, slipping off your shoes and climbing onto the bed (Which felt like a cloud)

“It's nice,” you hummed as you let your body sink into the mattress.

“Be nicer, if i wasn't so constricted by these clothes,” he told you, making you look over to see his smirking face.

“Oh yeah?” you asked, turning to face him.

“Oh yeah,” he repeated, raising his eyebrows at you. He adjusted himself to his side so he was facing you now.

“What are you thinking about?” you whispered.

“That night,” he muttered, “The way you looked, riding me, falling apart on my cock. How tight your pussy was and the way it clenched around me while I whispered sweet nothings in your ear,” your eyes widened in shock at the filth of his words.

“Harry,” you giggled.

“Come on, you know you have been thinking of it. I know I can't get the sound of your moans out of my head, the small whimpers you were letting out with every stroke of my cock on your g spot,” you felt your walls clench around nothing at his words. He knew what he was doing, and he was doing it well. “I just wish we had had more time that night, I could have had you whimpering if I had been given the chance. I would have filled you up good with my fingers, and eaten you like you were my last meal,” he whispered.

You closed your eyes, trying to keep from letting off how unbelievably aroused you were. You had rushed straight to the point the last time you and Harry had been left alone, but now.. There was no rush, no time crunch, you had all night, and all weekend to give into your sexual desires. Lord knows you have already given into your emotional ones.

“Show me,” you challenged, stealing a glance at the way his mouth widened with your words. He pushed himself up onto his knees in between your legs, grabbing your ankles and pulling you down the bed and closer to him. “Harry,” you giggled.

He ran his hands up your clothed legs, and up your body, until he was leaning over you, his face close enough that you could smell his shampoo and feel his breath fanning across your lips. “Want to make you feel good,” he whispered.

“Do it then,” you groaned, arching your back up and into a kiss. His hands found your waist, sliding them under your shirt as he kissed you like his life depended on it. He slowly pushed your shirt up until it was pooled above your breasts and he then pulled the fabric of your bra down, taking your already pebbled nipple between his fingers and rolling it, which made a slight moan escape from your mouth.

“Can I take these off?” he asked. You nodded quickly, sitting slightly up so he could remove the shirt. He reached behind you to unclasp your bra, but not without a little struggle. When he finally managed to get it undone, he slid the straps down your arms tossing it to the side, before dipping his head down, and taking one of your nipples in his mouth. You let out a loud gasp at the sensation, as your hands instinctively found themselves tangled in his auburn curls. He made sure to do the same to the other breast before trailing open mouth kisses down your stomach and stopping at your waistband of your leggings. Glancing up to you for permission, which you nodded, overly eager for him. He hooked his finger in the waistband peeling your leggings and underwear down in one sweep. He could see how wet you already were for him, from the glistening sheen of your cunt.

He ran two fingers through your folds, stopping at your clit and pushing down. “Oh,” you moaned out at the unexpected pressure.

“So wet for me darling,” Harry whispered.

“I have been waiting for this,” you admitted, looking up to see him smirking at you.

“Oh you have?” He asked, pulling his fingers almost all the way out before plunging them back in. He brushed your g spot with the tip of his fingers making you moan out his name and arch your back. “Been waiting for this?” he asked as he continued to finger fuck you.

“Yes, Harry,” you moaned, as you felt a knot forming in the pit of your stomach. Harry moved his thumb, and you almost whined at the loss of stimulation, until you felt his tongue lick up from above his fingers to your nub, wrapping his lips around it as he began to suck slightly. You were done at that point, and you knew it. “So close har,” you warned, but he didn't falter in his actions in the slightest. Instead he sped them up, pushing you over the edge even faster. With a loud moan of his name, your back arched off the mattress and your toes curled, as you felt an explosion of bliss. Harry continued his movements through your orgasm, only slowing and coming to a stop when your legs quit shaking and you seemed to relax.

“Fuck, y/n. You're bloody perfect,” he mumbled, bringing his lips to yours, you could taste yourself on his lips, but you didn't even mind. All you could focus on was the fact that he was way overdressed, for the activities you wanted to partake in. you grabbed at the hem of his shirt, and he broke away from the kiss to allow you to pull the shirt over his head.

You took a second to admire his bare chest, he was muscular, but wasn't overly defined, and he, well he was perfect.

“You're breathtaking, you know?” You told him, making him turn a shade of red.

“Shut up,” he giggled, before reconnecting your lips in another kiss.

You let your nails graze the naked skin on his back making him groan, and rut his hips against yours. His clothed bulge rubbing against your naked sex. “Take em off,” you instructed. He pushed himself up onto his knees, unbuttoning his jeans, but before he could push them down you sat up grabbing his hands to stop him. “Can i?” you asked.

He smiled at you before nodding. You pushed his jeans down as much as you could, you could see the outline of his cock that was straining against his boxers. You leaned forward, placing an open mouthed kiss on the fabric. “Fuck,” harry groaned. You looked up at him through your eyelashes to see him looking down at you.

“Want me to..” you asked.

“Yes, fuck yes. If you want to, I mean,” he stuttered out. You smiled up at him, pushing the fabric of his boxers down until his cock was free of the restraint. You took his length in your hand, pumping it a few times, as you licked your lips and leaned forward, taking him in your mouth. You bobbed your head up and down as you worked what your mouth couldn't take with your hand. Harry held onto your hair loosely, watching as you sucked him off. “M’close,” he warned you. You continued what you were doing, not caring, he had done it for you, the least you could do was return the favor. You felt him begin to twitch against your tongue, as his grip on your hair tightened and his hips rutted forward, nearly making you gag before you felt him release himself the warm liquid slipping down your throat. You pulled your head back letting him out of your mouth with a pop.

Harry pushed you back onto the bed, making you giggle at his eagerness. He let his body fall to yours, lips crashing in a deep kiss. His fingers laced with yours above your head as he moved his kisses down your jaw to your throat, sucking lightly, leaving small marks that would be a reminder for days. “Harry, I need you,” You whined.

He lifted his head smiling, bringing his lips back to yours. His hand slipped between your bodies, lining himself up at your entrance before sinking slowly into you. He slowly thrust into you, setting a slow pace.

“Faster, baby, please,” you moaned out. He grabbed your thigh lifting it lightly as he began to thrust into you harder.

“You're so tight,” he groaned, as he began to quicken his movements. You reached down, rubbing your nub as he pounded into you.

“I'm close,” You told him as you neared your second orgasm.

He reached down, replacing your fingers with his, “Cum all over my cock darling,” he groaned. His fingers circled your clit, and with one particularly deep thrust, you felt yourself clench around him, as you whimpered at the relief. After a few more movements Harry's hips stilled and his body went limp, laying his head onto your chest. “That was incredible, you are incredible,” he told you as he laid there trying to catch his breath.

You smiled as your eyes fluttered closed, sleep taking over your overworked body.

The weekend passed quicker than it had even come, and before you knew it you were kissing Harry goodbye at the airport where you had picked him up two days prior.

“I wish we had more time,” you whispered as you hugged him, your face buried in the crook of his neck.

“I'll be here next month, love. Five weeks and we will be back together, promise,” He whispered into your ear, kissing the top of your head.

“I'll hold you to it,” you told him, kissing his lips one final time before he had to leave.

“I’m counting on it,” he said, before walking away. Just like that, faster than he had arrived in Scotland, he left for London.

The drive to your place was quiet, and the whole time you were fighting the urge to cry. You parked your car, and grabbed your bag, noticing a pink sleeve peeking out. You unzipped it, and saw Harry's pink hoodie, that he had probably shoved into your bag after you had practically lived in it and only it for the weekend. You couldn't help but smile to yourself. You shoved the hoodie farther into your bag, zipping it up and heading up to your flat.

As soon as you opened the door you were hit with the aroma of a home cooked meal. Sam was standing facing the stove, focused on whatever he was stirring.

“Smells good Sammy,” you said, startling him.

“Oh good, your home. Come stir this for me,” he instructed holding a spoon out to you.

"Yes chef," you said, bringing your hand up to your head and saluting him.

"You're an idiot," he groaned at you. You walked over taking the spoon and began to stir the sauce while he cut up garnish for the top. "How was your weekend with your dad?" He asked.

"Uh good, busy, but ok," you lied. Seemed like you were doing a lot of that to Sam recently.

"So you guys worked everything out from that fight?" He asked you. Your eyes grew wide, realizing you had fucked up. You and your dad had gotten into a fight about money, and afterwards he had cut you off, and told you to get your life in order. It had been months since you had spoken.

"No, but we pretended so that my gram wouldn't be upset," you lied again.

"Oh, that makes sense. I was confused when you said you were going to spend the weekend with him, I thought you might have been lying to me, glad that wasn't the case," he said as he drained the pasta.

Guilt. That was the only thing you felt. Guilty for being a bad best friend. Guilty for lying. Guilty for not sticking to a promise you had made. You were going straight to hell.

It had been a few days since yours and Harry's weekend, and he was set to be back in a little over a month. You were sitting on the couch, laptop in your lap when the pain started. At first it was a slight pinching sensation, but soon it became like a stabbing pain, and you nearly doubled over from the intensity. You tried to stand up, but let out a groan as the pain increased. Sam looked up, worried filling his face at the sight of you.

“Y/N? You're bleeding, what's going on?” He asked, as he rushed to your side. You looked down to see a line of blood down both of your legs, and immediately got dizzy.

“Sammy, I'm gonna pass out,” You warned him.

“I’m taking you to the doctor,” he told you as he practically carried your limp body down to your car and drove you to the nearby emergency clinic.

The doctors drew blood and put in an i.v to get fluids into you, all the while Sam never left your side, holding your hand tightly as he knew you hated doctors offices.

“Okay darling, we're going to run some tests and get to the bottom of why you're feeling so bad,” the nurse told you, as she left the room. Sam sat beside you as you laid in the bed, squeezing your hand lightly.

“It's alright, you're okay,” he cooed as he stroked your hair. Just then the door opened and a doctor came into the room.

“Miss, Y/L/N, i have some unfortunate news, it looks like you're experiencing a miscarriage,” your jaw dropped as you heard the words coming from his mouth. You glanced up at Sam who was looking at you with raised eyebrows.

“I- what?” you asked. Clearly not registering what you had just heard.

“The HCG levels in your blood make me think you were maybe around ten weeks pregnant, which would explain the extreme blood loss, and the feeling like you were going to faint. The unfortunate thing is that there is not much medically that we can do, so we will send you home. Try and get some rest, take it easy and if you experience any clotting bigger than a golf ball, come back in. ill have the nurse work up your discharge paperwork,” he turned to exit the room but stopped in the doorway, “I’m sorry guys, i know this must be hard news,” and then he left.

“You were pregnant?” Sam asked.

“I guess so,” you mumbled.

“Who have you slept with? What was ten weeks ago? That was like-” Sams face fell. He looked down at you, “That was our holiday week, ten weeks ago,” He told you. You winced at his insinuation, which in and of itself gave you away. “Tell me you weren't pregnant with my brother's baby y/n?” he sighed.

You weren't sure if it was being caught in a lie, the hormones coursing through your body, or the fact that you had just been told that you had lost a baby you were never even aware of, but you felt a sudden surge of emotions, as your eyes glossed over. Sam noticed this almost instantly.

“Shit y/n honey, please don't cry,” he told you, but it was too late as the tears began to spill from your eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” you nearly wailed. Sam pulled you into his arms as you cried your heart out, mumbling things about how ‘awful of a person you were’ and how you ‘didn't deserve him in your life’.

“Y/N, try and breathe, and tell me what happened,” he whispered as soon as your crying settled slightly. So you tried to explain what had happened, where you had gone wrong, and when your heart had been opened to his brother.

“Are you mad at me?” you asked as Sam tucked you into the couch with your favorite fuzzy blanket. He hadn't said a word to you since you had left the hospital.

“I am,” he sighed, sitting down beside you. “Y/n, what happens if he hurts you? If he breaks your heart into a million pieces? What happens when I'm forced to choose a side? What happens when I have to choose him over you even if I know he was in the wrong?” he asked, voice cracking, and tears prickling his eyes. “What happens if I lose you over something he does? I'd be crushed, your my best friend, the person i turn to when things are hard, the one who knows me inside and out, the one id trust with my life, but he is my brother, my twin brother, you are like a stranger compared to the way i know him,”

“Sam-”

“No, y/n. Just- I can't have this conversation right now, because i want to yell at you, tell you how betrayed i feel, but i can't because this- what your going through, is bigger than what i feel right now,” he stood up pulling his phone from his pocket and walking to the front door. “And that's why I called him,” he said before opening the door.

You felt tears form in your eyes again at the gesture. Your best friend putting his own feelings to the side to make sure you were ok. Harry stepped inside the house, offering a small smile to Sam who just nodded at him, obviously hurt. Harry went straight to you, pulling you into his arms as you started to cry again, this time it was even worse.

Harry held you for what felt like hours as you cried until you fell asleep. He placed your body down gently before walking to the kitchen where Sam was standing.

“Mate-”

“No, you don't get to start. Why her? Out of every person in the world, why her?” Sam demanded.

“It just happened,” Harry said.

“That is not a reason,” Sam argued.

“She's it Sam, I don't know,” Harry said.

“You wouldn't have known that had you left her alone,” Sam was verging on pissed at that point.

“No, Sam, you don't understand. I didn't need to know her, the second I saw her in the airport standing beside you, her hair tied up and in that old pearl jam t-shirt. Everything changed, call it a gut feeling, or me being an idiot, but I swear to god Sam, I fell in love with her before she even spoke a word to me,” Harry explained, hearing the words he said for the first time out loud.

“You're in love with her?” Sam asked.

“Desperately,” he admitted.

“I'll hurt you, if you hurt her,” Sam warned.

“I wouldn't expect anything less,”

“And if she hurts you, well, i cant hurt her but i'll give her an earful,” Sam laughed.

“I know,” Harry laughed.

“God it had to be my best friend?” Sam asked, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I'm sorry, the heart wants what it wants,” Harry said.

“Who are you? Selena Gomez?” Sam asked, hitting his brother's shoulder. “I’m sorry, about the baby,”

“I didn't even know there was a baby till you called,” He told Sam.

“She didn't know until today. You guys were careful, yeah?” he asked Harry.

“Uhh,”

“Harry! You fucking div! condoms man!” Sam groaned.

“I know it was just-”

“No, no, no. I do not want to hear the specifics of you sleeping with my best friend, just- next time, CONDOMS!” Sam stressed.

“Okay, okay, that's easy enough,” Harry laughed.

“You look nervous,” Sam laughed from the passenger seat of Harry's car.

“I am,” you told him,

“You have met mum before darling,” Harry reminded you.

“Yeah, as Sam's roommate and best friend, Not as your girlfriend,” you explained. Your stomach was in knots the entire drive from the airport to the Hollands family home. This was all new territory, sure you and Harry had been together for eight months, but meeting the family was a big feat, even if you had met them all before your relationship had started.

“I promise you will be fine, love” Harry assured you.

“I'll hold you to that,” You muttered, as he pulled into the driveway of an extremely nice house. You felt your jaw drop, as you glanced around the house, unaware that they had grown up in such a nice place.

Your door opened, and Harry held out his hand for you to take, which you did. Stepping out of the car and smoothing the bottom of your dress down. “Ready?” Harry asked.

You smiled up at him, “Nope. let's do it,” you squeezed his hand lightly as he pulled you along, Sam following closely behind.

The inside of the house was just as nice, pictures of the boys lined the walls from when they were tots until now. You heard the pitter patter of paws on the hardwood and looked over to see a blue staffy running towards you. Sam dropped down hugging the dog.

“Hi Tess, hi darling, oh i missed you too,” You giggled at the sight of the dog smothering Sam in kisses.

“Just in time,” Niki sang as she rounded the corner. “Oh y/n,” she said, pulling you into her arms. “So glad you could join us for the holidays,” she told you, squeezing your shoulders.

“Mum,” Harry said.

“Oh yes, sorry please go ahead,” she giggled while backing up.

“Mum, this is Y/n, my girlfriend,” Harry said, making you shoot him a strange look.

“Oh so nice to meet you,” she gushed with a giggle.

“What-”

“He insisted he re-introduce us with your new title,” she explained. You laughed glancing up to see a blush covering his cheeks.

“You're cute,” you told him, before being whisked away to meet the rest of the Holland crew.

The night ran late, as you got to know everyone. The whole Holland family was easy to get along with, you spent most of the time laughing at embarrassing childhood stories and telling stories of Sam at school.

“Are you ready to go?” Harry whispered in your ear when he noticed you had yawned for the third time. You nodded, eyes feeling heavy from the long day. You went around saying your goodbyes to everyone, Sam opting to just head back later. So you and Harry took off to his flat which he shared with Tom and a few friends.

Once you got to his place, he grabbed your bag, leading you inside, and passed two boys who were occupied in front of a video screen. “You can meet them tomorrow,” He told you as he helped you up the stairs.

His room was nice, quite what you would expect from a boys room, plain bed, empty dresser, there was a shelf full of movies, and a large tv, but nothing extreme.

“Can i have a shirt?” You asked. “To sleep in?”

Harry smiled at you before walking over to the dresser and pulling out an old t-shirt. “This one will look nice on you,” He told you.

“Help me out of these clothes?” you asked. He leaned forward bringing his lips to you as his fingers found the zipper on the back of your dress. He unzipped it slowly, pushing it off your shoulders before it fell to your ankles, revealing the lingerie set you had bought for him.

“Oh god,” he groaned looking at the black and gold lace that lined your body.

“You like it?” You asked with a cheeky smile.

“I'm going to like it even more once it's on my floor,” he told you as he grabbed your bum, lifting you up and carrying you to his bed. He threw you down, and you landed with a giggle as he attacked your neck with kisses, trailing the patterned lace that laid over your breasts with one hand. “The things i want to do to you,” He growled in your ear.

“Do whatever you want baz, i'm all yours,” You said with a wink.

“Whatever I want huh? What if I just want to make sweet love to you all night?” He asked, catching you off guard.

You smiled and brought your thumb up to his mouth tracing his lip and the birthmark right beside it. “Make love to me then,” you whispered.

Harry bit his bottom lip, as he looked into your eyes. “I love you,” He blurted for the first time.

You felt your smile grow even wider, as you leaned up, kissing his lips softly. “I love you,” You mumbled into his lips.

You stayed tangled together, lips clashing, tension burning between you, for a while.

“Harry,” You moaned into his kiss.

“Yeah baby?” He asked.

“Make sweet love to me?” You nearly begged.

He smiled wide, jumping up and walking to his dresser, pulling out a little foil square and tossing it to you before quickly undressing himself. You took the chance to slip out of the lingerie you had on, laying naked and waiting for him.

He crawled onto the bed next to you. “Sit down,” you told him.

“Yeah?” He asked excitedly.

“Yeah,” you told him.

He sat down, back to the pillows, and legs spread open, waiting for you. You ripped open the condom, rolling it over his member slowly in a teasing manner. “Y/N” he groaned, making you laugh.

“Alright,” You laughed, climbing on top of him, and lining him up to your entrance.

“This feels familiar,” He whispered as you sank down onto him.

“Going back to the beginning,” you whispered as you began to move slowly. You wrapped your fingers in his hair as you brought your lips to his, letting all the love flow between the two of you.

“I love you,” Harry mumbled into your lips.

“I'm in love with you,” You told him. He grabbed your bum before flipping you onto your back. “Harry,” You giggled.

“I'm so glad I found you y/n. I feel like I had been lost at sea and you were the lighthouse that guided me home,” he expressed.

“Harry,” You whispered feeling your heart skip a beat.

“I love you so much,” He whispered, before connecting your lips again, and moving his hips, sinking farther and farther into you with each thrust. You continued to kiss him, fingers tangled into his curls as he grinded into you, bringing you both to your breaking points.

“Harry,” You moaned as you reached your climax.

“God Y/n, you look so beautiful falling apart because of my cock,” he groaned as his thrusts became rigid and rough.

“Cum for me, Harry,” You moaned in his ear as he reached his peak finishing into the condom.

He rolled off of you, disposing of the condom in the bin by his bed and turning back to you.

“I love you,” He whispered again.

“I like the sound of that,” You sighed, as you snuggled into his body. “And I love you too,” you whispered.

#harry holland #harry robert holland #harry holland smut #harry holland imagine #harry holland fluff #harry holland x y/n #sam holland #harry holland x you #harry holland x reader #harry holand x female reader #sam holland best friend #harry holland one shot

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rapspud · 3 years

Text

Bittersweet

Bittersweet A/N: Decided to rewrite this one. Please enjoy.

Yoongi looked at your friends as he sneered at your prone form sprawled out on the ground, your fingers scrambling to find your glasses.

“Aw what’s the matter? The poor baby can't see?” He purred as he picked up your glasses and dangled them in front of your face before throwing them into the dumpster. “Have fun diving!” He cackles as he slides past your prone figure, cruelly stepping on your hand as he passes.

You could hear the snickers of his friends behind you. You watched as his best friend, Seokjin clapped Yoongi on the shoulder, and whispered, “Oi, I get the whole I hate “y/n” thing but seriously—that was a bit much don’t you think?”

Yoongi couldn’t believe what he was hearing, “She ratted us out! So I fixed it-and now she can’t see to snitch! And shouldn’t you be on my side? You’re in just as much trouble as I am!”

Seokjin could only look at Yoongi like he had a third head, “ Yeah I guess, but still...there is-” at Yoongi’s raised eyebrow he swallowed what he wanted to say, instead choosing to leave rather than to help Yoongi’s victim, “Hey I gotta go I’ll catch you later okay?”

Yoongi smiled and waved good-bye before walking away from the group. How could he possibly explain how much he hated Y/N? No one here knew the truth about your families-how he had to share a home with you, your family serving his. He had no respite from you. Yeah, Y/N deserved everything she got, he thought as he got into his car. Plus it's not like you wouldn’t rat him out when you got home about what happened. This time as he drove past you and saw you hunched in on yourself, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt as he saw you clutching your injured hand, staring resolute at the dumpster, knowing full well that you would go in after the glasses. After all, he knew how hard your mother worked to buy them for you, he knew how you worked 2 jobs and also kept track of your younger brothers. Deep down, he really hoped that maybe this time you would finally explode and tell everyone about all the horrid acts he committed against you.

Except that you never did tell on him.

In fact, you avoid Yoongi like the plague. After finally scrambling into the dumpster and reclaiming your glasses, you clambored back out, hand still screaming in pain. As you stand there wiping the garbage from the lenses and picking off random refuse from your clothes you honestly don’t think you can sink any lower than this. You swipe grimey hands at your cheeks as hot tears run down them, thankful that you are alone. And as you walk away you begin to make plans. You couldn’t keep doing this. And with renewed energy you begin walking home, not didn’t looking back choosing instead to forge ahead, putting one foot in front of another until finally you were in your mid=twenties, and had your own little place. You were happy with your life. But you should have known. All good things must come to an end eventually. You hadn’t thought about him in years, attending school, graduating, opening up a bakery with your best friend. Essentially you were hiding, but not really.

And then by some ill stroke of luck, he found you.

You awaken to the blaring of your alarm with a groan. Was it really 8 am? The flashing numbers of your clock inform you that it was in fact 8:59. Shit you were late. Cursing your snooze butten, you scrambled out of your bed and grabbed the cleanest clothes you could find off the floor and stumble as you attempt a whole new balancing act: pulling up your pants while holding a hot cup of coffee and a piece of toast dangling precariously from your teeth. As you run down the street towards the bus, slinging your backpack over your shoulder while you scramble to tuck your shirt in you promptly run into a solid wall and fall on your ass. Your hair is covering your face as you look up at what you had plowed into, an apology already leaving your mouth when you got to the face. “Um…hi, uh…sorry about that.”

“Y/N. From YHSN?”

“Yes?” you become wary, no one around here really knows you as you chose to keep to yourself…“Do I know you?”

The grin that spread across the man’s face could be described as nothing less than cruel and vicious. “Yeah, Y/N L/N right? I am here to inform you that you have 24 hours to vacate the premises. Good luck.” He stated before unceremoniously dropping an envelope onto your lap and turning on her heel to leave you in a stunned heap on the floor.

What the hell had just happened? Maybe you were still dreaming?

You were dazed for a moment as your brain tried to compute the absolute absurdity of what had just happened and then you were on your feet chasing the man, yelling at him to stop but he just kept on walking.

Finally catching up to the man, you grab her arm, “What the fuck man?” you yell, “this is illegal as hell! Thirty days is the minimum!” You shove the notice back at the man, hitting him in her (very solid) chest hard.

“Y/n, Y/n, I see you're still full of venom huh? It’s completely legal actually-you see I” he leaned forward, “own the building now. And to my delight, what do I learn? I find out that Y/N L/N happens to be a tenant! Guess how happy I was to finally find you again after all these years and then get to have you vacate your home.” he laughs as you gape at him like a fish.

“Min fucking Yoongi, I do not have time for your petty ass childish bullshit! ” you hers, voice laced with venom.

“Aw kitten you remembered! I am truly honored! But alas I cant stay and chit-chat, and well, neither can you. Tata chica!” With that he jerks her arm from your grasp, sending you back to the ground in shock for the second time that morning, before climbing into an expensive black car and driving away.

You scream curses to the sky, because after 8 peaceful years, the man you had spent so long running from and then finally forgetting, had found you. But of course, the sky only decides to rain. And as you trudge back home to call into work, (because seriously fuck this day) you can’t help but wonder how everything came to this moment. After a shower and change of clothes, you fall into your bed, allowing yourself one moment of respite before you begin to tackle this new problem, closing your eyes.

You were back there again, trapped both in a small body and the cave that haunts you as you watch helplessly at the rising water. Your tiny voice is raised, tinted with fear, “I told you we shouldn’t come here! My mama said-“

The boy next to you cut you off, “Crying ain’t gonna fix it, I will save us”

“You can't even swim,” You yell, unable to remain calm.

“I AM GONNA SAVE US!” the small boy shouted, “so don’t cry Y/N.” He gave you a small smile, one that made you feel slightly safer and he took hold of your hand. “Follow me and don’t let go no matter what.”

“Okay,” you say, for some reason feeling braver after placing your faith along with your hand into the boy’s hand. He said he would, so of course he would save both of you. After all, he was your best friend and you don’t pick losers.

It was a lot harder though, when all was said and done. Yes, the two of you made it out of the cave alive, but not without nearly drowning, and you had slipped and injured your ankle along the way. Luckily, you did make it out, and while the two of you spent a cold wet night huddled together on the beach, you were alive. In the morning, you were rescued further as the search teams found. And while your mother had you wrapped up in her warmth and was crying and thanking the people over and over that had saved you, the same welcoming was not happening to the young boy. You could hear screaming as a woman in a fine dress and her husband yelled at the boy, your tiny hero, before there was a loud smack. You watch as the boy falls, hand clenched to her face, tears streaming down her face as her mother continues to land hard blows upon her body until she is dragged away. You cried out for you friend and as the two of you met eyes, for the first time you saw hatred reflected back at you. That was the day Min Yoongi stopped being your friend and became your tormentor.

He followed you everywhere, taunting you, breaking your things, and ultimately breaking you. Your mother finally quit working for her house the day he’d thrown your glasses into the garbage and you had come home, broken glasses in hand, face streaked with tears and reeking of garbage -you had finally confessed what had happened, what all had been happening. You had moved away, your mom working several jobs and then as well as yourself working, then you working to pay your way through chef school and finally moving out into your own place. And all of it had just been destroyed because he found you.

You sigh looking up at your ceiling letting your anger consume you as you curse Min Yoongi to a lifetime of diarrhea. And an itchy butt. And you hoped her eyebrows fell out, just for good measure.

You look around your apartment one last time before closing the door with finality. this asshole, you think to yourself. “Just wait” you say as you look down at the address your brother had just texted you.

An hour later you stand before a gated house and ring the doorbell. And ring it. And ring it. And continue ringing it (after all it was nearly 6 am, and as you had learned that morning, if you want to ruin someone's day, do it first thing in the morning) until a sleepy figure stumbles outside and smacks your hand away. You take this opportunity to dart inside the gate and into the house carrying your things with you.

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” Yoongi yells at you from outside, beginning to stomp back to her front door. You could only grin as you take in the pajama bottoms and robe, while you stand there like a goddamn Amazonian queen, “You took my home. this is payback.” and then you dialed the police, “Yes? Officer? There’s a half naked man on my lawn, please send help! I’m so scared”

You couldn’t help the grin that covers your face as you smile at Yoongi, “Good luck asshole.” You say sweetly, before slamming the door in her face. Nothing had ever sounded so sweet as the sound of the lock turning over, followed a second later by desperate pounding at the door. And Yoongi could only pound on the door until the cops showed up and he explained that this was, in fact, her home, as well as that the intruder was actually you. The officers had asked him if he wanted you arrested and for once he let it go, telling them that you were having a lovers quarrel and apologizing that they had to come out over something so silly. As the cops pulled away, he went to the back of the house and slammed the sliding glass door open only to find the house seemingly empty. As he walked from room to room he couldn’t help but get angrier and angrier. But when he found you passed out on her bed, he paused, somehow her anger dissipating instantly. He stood there, looking at your sleeping body and wondered if you would ever know her real feelings for you. If he would ever be able to tell you. And the real question: could you forgive him? He knew it was asking a lot, but he could only hope. He sat and thought about how to express to you the things he needed to say. He wondered how exactly did one explain how guilty he felt about how he treated you, how he didn’t really understand why he went out of her way to make your life miserable back then…and then you had left him. How, when you left he realized just how broken he was inside. When he bought the building he couldn’t believe her luck when he saw your name as one of the tenants, but her old ways came back hard and for some ungodly childish reason he couldn’t control himself. That he should have been apologizing that morning and telling you how thankful he was that it had also brought you back to him. He guessed that it was far too late for him to ever have your forgiveness and he couldn’t help the smile that played on her mouth as he approached the bed. He reached out a hand to smooth back some hair that covered your face when you wherpered, “Yoongi...” he stilled, “…I’m sorry” you mumbled. What could you possibly be sorry for? He couldn’t help it, but it made him angry that you would apologize to him after everything he’d done and especially while in such a vulnerable state that the next thing he knew he was grabbing the blanket and ripping it away from your curled form. It’s momentum sends you over the edge of the bed to land in a heap on the floor. You sit up cursing her very existence,

“What the hell Y/N?!” He yells right back, while you could only manage to stare up at him from where you sat on the floor. But this time you weren’t having any of her bullshit. You jump up and get in her face “ What the hell? What do YOU mean what the hell? Who the hell buys a building solely to evict one person?! Are you that rich? Do you hate me that much?”

Yoongi yelled back, “Hell yeah I do!“

"You have issues, Min Yoongi! I did nothing to you except be born! Do you know how hard I worked to forget what you did to me? And you come just back,” you pause, swallowing thickly, you would not cry. Not here. Not now, “But not anymore! I won't let you break me again Yoongi. I am worth so much more than that!”

Exhausted, you move to push around him but he grabs your wrists instead and pins you against the wall.

“Let me go you asshole!” you yell at him fighting back for once in your life, all while trying to hide your face and the tears that were no longer just threatening to spill over. “Can't you just hate me from a distance? I’m sorry your mom was a horrid cunt to you! I’m sorry, okay! But please, just let me go! Leave me alone” And then her hands were gone, and you were free. You couldn’t help it, you looked up and stared him in the eyes, for once determined to make him see how he wrecked you.

Yoongi could only stare at you, watching as the tears fell, tears once again caused by him, and then he heard the five words that ripped open her wounds, words he knew he deserved, said in a voice so broken he didn’t know where he should start to even attempt to repair it.

“I hate you Min Yoongi.“

He couldn’t stand it, he knew he deserved them but he just couldn’t stand there and just accept them. Accepting those words would be like giving up, and giving up probably the only pure thing he still had in her life. Had. And so he moved, not thinking about consequences, only a desire to cleanse those words from the air around him. He grabs you again, pushing you against the wall, capturing your face in one hand, forcing you to meet her eyes, while he brushes your hair away with the other, "Good. Never forget it.”

And then he crashes her mouth against yours.

You didn’t know how what was happening was happening and some stupid part of you was excited to have him pressed against you, mouth was moving against yours and then you were responding and for some reason it felt so good–like coming home. It was like your body suddenly was against everything you wanted-you found yourself wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling him closer, deepening the kiss, a giggle bubbling up when you nipped at her lip and he groaned. and then you both were tearing at each other's clothes in desperation. And then the world stops making sense. You and Min Yoongi, enemy of the state #1 were having sex. And it was good. It felt so right, like you two had been made to fit each other only. When it was over he lay behind you, placing gentle kisses along your neck and down your collar bone. The last thing you remember before falling asleep in your enemy’s arms was Yoongi gently wherpering a muffled “I’m sorry” into your ear over and over.

When you wake, you are surprised to find an arm wrapped around your waist and you freeze as the memories of the night before come rushing back and you begin to mentally beat yourself up as you carefully slide out of the bed and grab your clothes, making a mad dash out of the house, dressing yourself along the way.

No way had you slept with Yoongi and enjoyed it. You were an idiot of the highest order. You slept with the man who wanted you homeless because he hated you.

You let out a deep sigh as you did a very new special walk of shame to your job, where your boss, Mandi greeted you by yelling, “Oi ! What cat pissed in your cheerios?”

Causing the other workers to laugh until you pinned them with your patented Crazy-eye ™, at which point they scurried away except for that moron Seokjin who slung his arm around your shoulders jovially, “So why is my favorite girl doing the walk of shame?”

You glare and shrug his arm off, “None of your business.”

“Dude its obs-you’re like a whole 4 hours late-and you are never late. So what happened? Anyone I know?”

“You’ll just call me an idiot if I tell you.”

“I swear on cake I won't.”

You raise an eyebrow before saying a name you never thought you’d say just to see him eat his words. “Min Yoongi.”

“Shut the front door! You’re an idiot”

“The cake is ashamed of you and asks that you keep your distance.” You say as you move to the back rooms to put away your belongings.

Not giving up, Seokjin follows you, even going so far as to hand you your apron, “Seriously? Didn’t he like-”

“Terrorize me to the point of moving? Then find me years later and evict me? Yep.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“You okay?” Seokjin asked worriedly, For the shit talking between the two of you, you smile to know he does really care.

“I have to be.”

“Did you at least use a condom?” He asks.

“Oh my god.”

“You really are an idiot. But don’t worry…you know I’ve got your back right? Well, we’ve got your back.”

You could only stare at Seokjin as your mind whirls through the consequences of last night, “It should be fine right?” you ask.

“Sure, cupcake. Keep telling yourself that”

There is a ding from the door and you see your brother Jungkook shuffles in with your other brother Namjoon, and giving Seokjin a look that clearly says “Keep your mouth shut if you want to live” you take a deep breath and head behind the counter to wash your hands, greeting them as you go.

“COFFEE. COFFEE NOW.” Namjoon grunts demandingly, taking a seat and burying her head in her hands, while Jungkook adds a half-hearted “Please…and a raspberry jelly for me.”

“Rough night?” You ask as you pour the two men coffee and grab Jungkook her donut and slide it in front of them.

Jungkook grins, “Nah, Joon thought he could out drink me. He thought wrong.”

“Shhhhhhhhh!! You’re so loud,” hersed Namjoon, shoving a hand at Jungkook’s face and missing entirely.

You grin and speak extra loud, “Shouldn’t you know by now to let the kids drink and you go home and sleep?”

Namjoon just glares at you, “I have a gun.”

“I aint scared of you.”

The shop bursts into laughter as Namjoon buries her head in her arms on the counter, “Why do you hate me so much?” He whines.

“Mom likes you more, and I’m a petty bitch.”

Jungkook grins, “But she likes me most!”

Both you and Namjoon glare at him, “Shut up!”

Yoongi wakes up to an empty bed and he frowns, crawling out of bed and pulling on her boxers. He wanders around the house looking for you, hoping that you haven't run away and when he can’t find you, her heart sinks. Was he that awful that you would still run away from him even after what you had shared? And worse, what if he had gone too far this time?

He makes her way back to her room and grabs her phone, calling her secretary.

“Yo.” Answered Hoseok.

“Really that’s how you answer the phone? You do know that I am your boss right?”

“Debatable today.”

Yoongi rolls her eyes, “Anyways, I need you to find someone…”

“Well you know Imma need a little more…”

“Y/N. You remember her right?”

“You mean the girl you tortured in school because you didn’t have the balls to tell her how you lurrrrrrrved her.”

“I see you wish to die today.”

“No, not today. So you wish for me to find your wayward love?”

“Yeah.”

“Mandi’s shop.” Hoseok cheerfully replied, as if this should be common knowledge.

“Oh yeah, great idea bring me some coffee please?”

“No, you idiot, Y/N works there. She is actually her partner” Hosoek irritatingly says matter of factly.

“The hell?! Why do you know this but I don’t?”

“Dude, seriously? You do know they were friends growing up and just because you made her run away by being a complete ass doesn’t mean they stopped being friends.”

“My best friend and my sister have been lying to me.”

“It’s not lying when you never asked. But Yoongi…you should let her go. It’s been a long time and I know you had feelings but with how you treated her–“

"She was here.” Yoongi grunted, running a hand over her face as he stood in her closet trying to think of what to wear. What says “I come in peace”? Maybe he could get Hoseok to dress up as Spock and talk to Y/N before he does.

“What? And you’re alive?”

“Yeah. We…um…she was gone this morning,” Yoongi sits down on her bed, running a hand through her hair.

"Oh…” and as realization hits, Hoseok intones sagely,” ...oh my god you’re fucking moron.”

“You know I can fire you.”

“Please bitch, I know all your deepest darkest secrets you ain’t gonna fire me.”

“Just…shit…what should I do?” Yoongi asks, finally letting go of her big bad boss act.

“Dude, I don’t know. You slept with her…maybe you should just…”

“I um…fucked up more than that…” He thinks about how you had felt, how he had felt...how absolutely perfect it had been for just one night, A flicker of fear strums through her heart at the thought that this was not salvageable at all.

“No. no way. Our friendship is over.” Hoseok cracks from the other side of the phone.

“Just help me okay?”

There was a long pause before he heard a heavy sigh, “Fine, but no games. She has a good thing going on and you-”

“I swear it's different this time!” Yoongi pleads.

“Whatever. I should warn you though.”

“Warn me about what?”

“Her brothers.”

“Namjoon and Jungkook? We were old friends, what about them?”

“You were old friends until they found out how you treated her. And bonus points-they are both cops now. Partners even, so you should probably pray for your soul.”

With a groan, Yoongi finally gets up and begins to get dressed putting Hoseok on speakerphone. “I’m so dead.”

“Yep,” affirms Hoseok, “So does that mean I can have your stuff?”

Rolling her eyes and thinking he really needs a new assistant, Yoongi growls out“See you at the office.” only to hear Hoseok laughing before he hangs up the phone.

Yoongi finishes getting dressed, and running a hand over her face as he contemplates this new information. You’d been right under her nose the entire time and everyone had kept it a secret. He guessed he deserved it though, he was a complete and utter ass to you. He also guesses it’s time to make it up to you and hopefully, you would forgive him and let him into your heart, where he belonged. After all, you’d always been in his.

2 months later

Yoongi stands outside her (former) sister’s shop watching as you serve your customers, and realizes sadly that it was the first time in a long time that he’d really ever seen you smile. He wanted that smile for himself and himself alone, but he wasn’t sure how to get it. When he had remodeled your former apartment, expanding it through the two vacant units on either side of you, you just got mad at him for evicting you, when he was just redoing the apartment and you claimed it was far too large for you by yourself now. But that was the point wasn't it? He was hoping that somehow you would just...come back to him on your own and he wouldn’t really have to put any work in. Yoongi realizes then that he is an absolute dumbass.

After all, nothing he’d done so far had managed to make you smile at him or hell just give him the time of day and he was beyond frustrated. Couldn’t you see how hard he was trying for you?

Mandi pokes her head out of the shop interrupting his train of thought,

“What the hell are you doing here?” she snaps at him.

“Wow, do you greet all your customers like this?”

“Yoongi. Listen. Whatever it this is about now isn’t–”

Realization hits for the second time that morning, “Were you ever going to tell me?”

Mandi pauses, looking him up and down, “There’s nothing to tell if you already know.”

He could almost feel the metaphorical walls slamming down around him as Mandi went on guard. “Mandi!”

“No. Not about ther.”

“I’ve known for almost a month.”

“Then you should go know somewhere else.” Mandi stepped outside, becoming a most effective blockade. If someone was to ever wage war against his sister, his money, hell, his entire fortune would be on Mandi.

“Listen, you’re my brother and I love you and I know you know what you did wrong, and really it's sweet you want to make amends but …Yoongi, sometimes things…”

“I slept with her.”

“Do you want a trophy?” Mandi snapped, her fists clenched, before she shook her head, “you have five seconds or I’m opening ther door and I’m calling her brothers out here.”

“We didn’t use protection.”

“Well then I guess today you die you little fucking weasel.”

“I love her.”

That’s when he remembered his sister’s left hook and then the lights went out.

Mandi stomps into the store grabbing you by the arm and dragging you upstairs ignoring your protests, shoving you into the bedroom and giving you a look reserved for her son’s Taehyung and Jimin when they are acting up. “Stay.”

Mandi goes back downstairs and motions Namjoon and Kookie over, “Listen, I know you hate Min Yoongi with like the passion of 7 fiery suns but I need you to hold that rage in and help me get his ass inside.”

Namjoon was already up and out the door at the sound of Min Yoongi’s name, and seconds later was dragging a barely conscious Yoongi in by the collar. While Kookie held open the door, Namjoon made sure Yoongi purposely whacked his head on the door frame and when Mandi winced he gave her a look that clearly said “sorry not sorry” before dropping Yoongi on the shop floor like the sorry sack of shit he thought he was.

“I’m sorry folks,” Mandi announces, “due to my crazy family, the shop will be closing early.”

The patrons all scrambled out of the shop while Jungkook handcuffed Yoongi to a chair and dumped a cup of ice water on him.

Yoongi jerked back, fully awake now and met by 3 pairs of eyes. 3 very angry pairs of eyes. He shook his head and tried to move but found himself handcuffed to the chair and he gives Mandi a look that says “Really?”

“Kook uncuff him. Seriously. And you and Joon leave.”

“No.”

“Did I stutter?”

“Okay, but we get dibs if you decide to kill him.” Jungkook, grumbles as he undoes the handcuffs.

“I’m not going to kill him. Today.”

“Fine.”

Jungkook finishes unlocking the cuffs and Yoongi immediately rubs at his wrists and watches warily as Jungkook and Namjoon leaves the shop, rolling his eyes when Jungkook gives him the international sign for “I’m watching you” while Joon drew his thumb across his neck. They were dramatic as fuck, but then again he might just be dramatically fucked.

Mandi pulls up a chair and sits across from Yoongi and stares at him for several long moments until Yoongi breaks the silence, “Just say it.”

“Why?”

“It just happened like that.”

“Bullshit.”

Yoongi sighed, “I’ve grown up since then. I no longer want to pull her hair.”

“Clearly. And you didn’t just pull her hair, you did a lot worse.”

“Shouldn’t you be on my side?”

“I am fucking Switzerland.”

Yoongi couldn’t help the anger that swelled up and choked him, “Clearly not. You knew where she was all these years and you never said anything. This is why you never let me come to the shop then? You knew I was looking for her, that I wanted-”

“Of course,” interrupted Mandi.

“Why?”

“Because you are an idiot who doesn’t know how to communicate. Look at what happened--when you did find her, your first action was to take her home. Who fucking does that shit?”

“You’re right, I was. I was cruel and spiteful. Keyword: was.”

“Bullshit. Taking away her home wasn’t because you were being spiteful. You wanted what she had. That’s called envy. She left because she wanted to live, and the only way she could was to leave. You made it like this. I almost lost my friend. So of course I kept it a secret.” Mandi sighed, rubbing her hand over her face. “Look I know. I know what y

our mom and dad did. How they treated us. We were mere points on a checklist of creating a picture perfect family. But you had no right-”

“I was stupid. You think I don’t know? That I don’t regret it? I love her. I always have.”

“Actions-”

“Speak louder than words I know. I’m trying to fix that now!”

Mandi closes her eyes, debating her next few words "Can I trust you? That’s the-“ ”

“Yes. I swear I'll spend my life…”

“Doing what?” You interrupt, “Sorry, since you seem to be discussing me I couldn’t stay put,” you say to Mandi. “Yoongi I don’t want your money and if you are worried because we didn’t…,” you swallow before continuing with a brave face, “....I’ll be fine. but you really have to stop sending me presents. I don’t want them. Can’t you just stay…”

“Y/N I’m sorry. I was an ass.”

“Still an ass.” Mandi interrupts, “Look, you two clearly need to talk this out so I’m out. Come on Seokjin, let’s go see a movie.”

With that Seokjin and Mandi beat a hasty retreat leaving the two of you alone.

“Your jaw is swelling.” You say after noticing the blossoming bruise that marred his handsome face. Handsome? What the hell were you even thinking?

“Mandi hit me.”

“Why?”

“I told her what happened. She’s very protective of you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Y/N…that night…I shouldn’t have that.”

“I let you. It wasn’t just you alone.”

“Please, just listen. I’m sorry. For everything. And I’m sorry for not saying that when we met again. It's just…”

“It's just..what?” You questioned, meeting his eyes.

“I don’t know. When I look at you I want you. You are so good and pure and you deserve the world. I wanted you to myself but I was scared…”

“Scared of?”

“You.”

“Me?” You scoff at the idea of anyone being afraid of you.

“Yeah,” Yoongi stood and walked over to you. “You had everything even though you had nothing. Brothers who worshiped you, a mother who did everything for you…what if I ruined that? What if my mother-”

“How would you ruin that?” You ask, finding patience from who knows where.

“I was messed up…and the older I got the worse…things got worse. You saw, you can’t pretend you didn’t. I took out my suffering on you because nothing good could possibly exist and you were just hiding your real nature. But you never retaliated. You kept reaching out to me over and over again. ”

“But I did retaliate.”

“By locking me out of my house after I took yours? Not really. I mean…I deserve far worse,” chucked Yoongi. He wanted so badly to touch you, to pull you into his arms and just...feel you.

You stare at Yoongi. This broken version of Yoongi with tears in his eyes. Could you trust him? You wanted to give him a chance.

“Let’s….go on a date.”

Yoongi’s eyes widened, “What?”

“You like me right?”

“Well–I mean–I did when I was—I do”

“Take me on a date, final offer going in one–two..”

“Fine! I’ll take you on a damn date,” Yoongi smiles.

“No fancy shit tho. $100 limit.”

“I’ll take you on the best damn date of your life!”

“Good.”

Yoongi didn’t know why he was being snippy now, but as he left the shop he couldn’t help but do a little cheer when he got into his car. Hoseok rolled his eyes and politely ignored him.

Yoongi stood at the door of your apartment, and for the first time in his life he hesitated, hand poised to ring the doorbell, and then you swung open the door and suddenly the world stopped. You looked amazing. Your hair was curled, makeup accenting your eyes perfectly, wearing black skinny slacks, a hound’s-tooth patterned sweater over a white button down and pink heels. He took in the perfection that was you and thought, “She was made for me.”

And the fear was gone as he smiled at you and he took your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours, “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah let me grab my purse,” you say as you try to let go of his hand to grab the bag on the chair beside your front door but he wouldn’t let go. You couldn’t help the blush that blossomed over your cheeks as he stepped inside and grabbed the bag for you and waited for you to lock up so you both could leave.

He pulled you along, never letting go, until he reached his car and opened the door. It was only enough time for him to run around and get the car moving before he was locking fingers with you again.

“What’s up with you?” You smirk.

“Just…making up for lost time.”

“What?”

“I just…I should have been doing this for years now.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “So…are you always this cheesy?”

Yoongi’s eyes went wide, “I mean…I’m not…no…,” Yoongi stuttered and then stopped, “I guess I am cheesy it's just…I can tell you I’m sorry but…”

“Actions speak louder than words?”

“I see you have met my sister,” he joked softly, “And we’re here.”

“A movie? Really?”

“I always had wished to take you…”

Yoongi’s eyes stared into yours, “Yoongi…” you say timidly.

“Yeah?”

“I’m not her anymore you know? I grew up…you grew up…let’s leave it behind us and start fresh yeah?”

“What do you mean?”

You stick your hand out, “Hi, my name is Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.”

Yoongi stared at you you’d suddenly sprouted a third eye on your nose before awkwardly taking your hand and shaking it, “Min Yoongi…the pleasure is all mine.”

You can’t help but laugh at his stunned expression, not knowing he was just in shock from receiving your smile. To him, your smile in that moment could have powered a thousand suns.

Yoongi was quiet but still took your hand and you entered the theater with a smile on your face, happy that things were getting better, that you could almost believe you had your first love back.

2 hours later.

“Yoongi, why are you pouting?” You ask as you take his hand.

“Look no matter how I look at it, it's just not fair.”

“What’s not?”

“Mandi. Seokjin. They have spent years with you…years that should have been with me.”

“I thought we were moving forward.”

“But.”

You sighed. “Look. You want to know the truth?”

Yoongi stopped and stared at you, “yes.”

“Okay then.” You face him, “You crushed me in every way possible. You were my world. I followed you everywhere. I trusted you, and you were always there and then you weren’t. The night we got stuck in the cave I gave you my faith—but it also is and was the moment I gave my whole heart to you, willingly, without any doubt. And the next day when we were found…you stomped on it. And you continued to stomp on it. I cried so many tears everyday because I hoped that one day my hero would come back. But he never did. He became a villain.” You couldn’t help the tears that fell down your cheeks, “And even through all that I still…” you sighed. “I can't do this Yoongi. I can't. I’m sorry, I was wrong to try.” You turned on your heel and ran away, ignoring him yelling after you, you just ran until you couldn’t hear him anymore.

And then you found the alcohol.

You sat at the outside bar drinking as you thought about the past two months. All the things you had done with Yoongi , and how disgusted you were with yourself for letting your old feelings come back so easily. You knew it wasn’t the right choice, but it was the one you wanted. You had decided to drown yourself in alcohol, and you were on your third bottle when the object of your conflicting emotions, sat down across from you.

“Y/N.”

“Mmm?”

“What are you doing?”

“Drinking!” Your giggle turns to a frown when you hear the heavy sigh come across from you, “Are you judging me? It’s not nice to judge you know! “

“Why are you drinking Y/N?”

“Because,” you leaned forward, whispering conspiratively, “I’ve been bad.”

“Bad? How so?”

You sigh dreamily, a wistful smile playing upon your lips, “There’s this guy…”

“There always is.”

“Shhh! This is my story!” You shout.

“Sorry.”

“Where was I?”

“Something about a guy…”

“SHHHHHH! So rude interrupting me! Anyways…I’m supposed to hate him but…” you thump your chest hard as tears prick your eyes, “But…”

“But what?”

“I can't…I remember him before…and the him that I remember…he’s still there…and all the warning alarms are going off and I’m so scared to love him but I…I think…”

“You think?”

You lay your head on the table, mumbling, “Think it’s too late…think I love him. Think it has always been too late for me. Even after all the bullshit…you see…he’s still here” You thump your chest hard and sigh as you feel the tears slide down your cheek to land on the table, “ I love him and I don’t want to…I didn’t mean too…”

“Mean to what?”

“To love him, but…”

“You do.”

“Yeah” you whisper softly.

“Yoongi…” you can feel the man smile, you don’t know how you know but you do, “why do I have to love you?”

“You love me?” He asks, the hope wrapped in fear in his voice twisting your heart even more than all the past crap that had happened. You wanted to let it go. You wanted to love him. You can only nod your head as your eyes slide close, and you struggle against the darkness when you hear him whisper, “I love you too Y/N…I’m just scared…I’m not good enough…I was such an ass…and I know you said to let it go…but God Y/N…I should have treated you like a princess…because the truth is…”

Those words cause you to sit up, eyes squinting hard as you try to make out his face, “Yoongi?”

“Yeah?”

You lean forward and his face comes into focus, a smile spreads on your face and you lean forward to press your lips to his, softly at first, and then he responds, a hand sliding up your arm to cup your neck as you express to him what you can’t say in words. This was so much better than petty arguments and revenge pranks.

You pull away, breathing heavy as you rest your forehead against his, “Yoongi,” you whimper, keeping your eyes firmly on the buttons of his shirt, scared to look up, scared to see the fear in his eyes. Does he not know? “Can I…can I be yours?“ You ask in a voice so quiet it is almost lost in the noise of the world that surrounds you.

"Can you forgive me?” The pain in his voice was sharp. “I forgive you.” You whisper into his mouth as you make promises with your lips.

He pulls away for a moment, and you lock eyes finally. “Then believe me when I say, I was always yours, and you were always mine.”

“I was?”

The amount of disbelief in your voice causes Yoongi to tear up as he pulls you into his arms, “Kitten?”

“Yeah,” you say as you rest your head into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent.

This time it was his turn to ask, “Am I yours?”

“You always were Yoongi. I was just waiting for you to remember where home was.”

Yoongi places the softest of kisses on each of your eyelids, and then he kisses away your tears and finally his mouth was on yours, and the kiss was full of yearning. “Y/N.”

“Yes?” You ask, sad he had pulled away.

“Don’t leave me again…I love you too.”

“Okay.”

#bts scenarios #yoongi scenarios #min yoongi scenarios #bts enemies to lovers #bts smut

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i-am-the-ass-admiral · 3 years

Text

For A Laugh (Benny Miller x gn!reader)

Summary: It’s Benny’s first time at a gay bar and you ask him out the worst way possible; ~1.4k

Tags: humor, colloquial writing style, lust, teasing, flirting, implied bi!benny and reader, bad jokes (like terrible impeccable taste), alcohol consumption, excessive use of the word ‘baby’, soft benny, first date (sort of), au, meet-cute

Rating: Teen

Note: look i’ve never done this before, i just really really got stuck on this idea and i really liked benny. might not be your idea of him but god i think he’s a huge dork and a giant softie so here we are. wanted to throw a queer reader out there since you just don’t see them all that much and do something maybe a little off the wall? idk have fun, i think i’m hilarious XD

By some stroke of fate, you pick Benny up at a bar the first time you meet.

He’s not hard to spot in a crowd as tall as he is and you’re just buzzed enough that your eye keeps coming back to him as the night goes on. He slides from corner to corner with his shoulders slightly hunched and the proverbial tail between his legs, following two shorter men who obviously know what kind of bar they’ve walked in to. Benny though—you didn’t know his name at the time so you called him Baby in your head—darts around with a kind of deer-in-headlights expression. It’s cute.

And annoying.

At first, you roll your eyes at him. Great, another straight dude to hit on your friends and get mad when they say no.

Then you watch him a little longer.

You can’t help it, he’s pretty and looks more than a little lost and even from the end of the bar you can see how wide his tentative smile gets as he looks around. He likes what he sees; you’re just trying to figure out exactly what it is he’s liking. For a while Baby sits at a table with his friends. Holds a fruity cocktail between his knees almost as if he’s scared to be seen with it. Then after a couple drinks his smile gets wider and his voice gets loud. Boy’s boisterous—you can tell by the way he talks with his hands and throws his head back to laugh. He’s actually really fun to watch and it makes you smile. His buddies look almost out of place too until they get up to dance and—wow, talk about snake hips and floor sex, you haven’t seen anyone dance that good off the drag stage in ages. Baby stares at his empty drink for a bit, lost again, then heads to the bar. Not far from where you are, actually. Watching him walk with a couple drinks in him is a world of difference to how he first came in. There’s a swing in his broad shoulders, a confident cocky tilt to his head and you’re not sure if you want to punch him or if it’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen.

Despite your better judgment, you’re leaning to the latter.

You make a bet with yourself as he pulls up at the bar—he got the fun drink to please his friends, he’ll order something boring now—and you’re pleasantly surprised to lose your own bet. Baby orders a whole-ass mai tai and looks overjoyed at the gigantic slice of pineapple and cherries garnishing the top. He turns to the stage. Avidly watches a few performers and even starts cheering. That’s when others folks start to take notice. A couple men make a pass and, wouldn’t you know it, Baby plays nice. Smiles and nods politely even though you can tell he’s not really into it. Not totally but it makes you think…

Maybe Baby’s a little bendy and not as straight as you thought.

At that point in the night, your friends are on their fifth dance, you’re on your third drink, and it’s getting way too loud in here for you. You were going to step out for a bit anyway—or so you tell yourself—so why not have some company? Who knows, you might get lucky. And if not, you’ll have an even better excuse to get some air and at least you can say you did it for laughs. Not that this is a casino but you’re feeling feisty. Might as well roll the dice. Baby looks like the kinda Midwest-flavored bite of beefcake that will either have great taste and love your stupid pickups or get scared and leave. Hopefully he’s not the kind to throw a punch.

You sidle up to the bar next to him. No doubt your outfit gets his attention first. It’s not risqué exactly but it’s got flavor, specifically your queer kind of flavor, and it draws the eye the way you wear it. You smile as you look him up and down, enjoying the red flush on his cheeks that trickles down under the collar of his fitted shirt. Wow, Baby is built. You ask the bartender for a couple drinks while part of your buzzing brain throws up red flags. Maybe you should try to land your mouth before it totally takes off but unfortunately for ground control your tongue is flying solo tonight. You get your drink. Pluck off the fruit, take a bite and shout over the music,

“Can I get your name or should I just get you a drink?”

As expected, Baby looks confused as hell but he pastes on a polite, if guarded, smile. “I wouldn’t mind a drink.”

Without missing a beat, you give him the second glass in your hand. There’s something about the way that guarded smile doesn’t quite meet his eyes that makes you want to do something stupid. You want to see him smile and laugh and even though you don’t have the slightest inkling about him, you want to know why such a handsome face would ever look so afraid.

So of course you ask, “How ‘bout a bet then? I make you laugh, you tell me your name?”

He makes a considering face and takes a long sip. “Bet.”

“What do you call the sexuality where you’re attracted to people by no one is attracted to you?”

“What?”

Very off key and with all the drama you can muster, you sing, “Allll Biiiii Myseeeelf.”

Baby snorts a laugh in his drink, which you didn’t expect, and a little warmth grows in your stomach. His faux smile is turning to a real grin. Albeit still a confused one but delighted all the same and he shoots back, “So that’s you, huh? By yourself?”

You wince theatrically and shake your head.

“Ouch, Baby’s got teeth! You got me.”

“Nah, what you get’s a name.” He holds out his hand and you groan internally at the length and breadth of it as you shake. “Benny.”

Just like that Baby becomes Benny and you’re absolutely smitten. You give him your name. Maybe your fingers linger. You want to get him another drink. You want to tell him another joke. Hell, you want to take him home and stuff him full of food in the morning. He giggles a bit and it’s endearing enough you decide to press your luck.

“How ‘bout this one? What’s the best N’Sync song?”

It’s not a fair question, dude might not have ever even heard a boy band in his life, so it takes you by surprise when he immediately pops back with a drawling version of, “It’s tearin’ up my heart when I’m with you?”

“Ooo, a little romantic! I see you!” you tease, pinching his thick bicep for just an instant. Because really, any longer than that and you’d melt.

Benny doesn’t pull away like you were waiting for him to do. Instead he ducks his head, more than booze burning his cheeks, and—ah, hell.

“That one is killer,” you admit, “but I was thinking of the one where they sing ‘Bye Bye Bye’ while we blow outta here for dinner?”

It’s a stupid line—one of the worst you’ve ever come up with—and it comes out more like a question than a joke. You throw back the rest of your drink to hide the look on Benny’s face but to your delight, he says,

“Wait, really?”

“Well yeah.” You lean against the bar next to him, trying and failing to be nonchalant and you shrug. “I’m hungry and even though you’re a Grade A snack I don’t think you’d appreciate me taking a bite. So how ‘bout dinner?”

Benny finishes his drink all at once. Wipes his mouth with the back of his hand as he stands. You sigh to yourself—this is the part where he walks off and you go get dinner alone, you suppose. But then he grins, like really grins, and offers you his arm to hold and suddenly your knees are jello shots.

“I could go for a bite.”

So you go for dinner. Text your friends, of course. But mosey down the street for 12AM tacos and end up laughing with Benny, shoulder to shoulder on the curb until your friends call for a ride.

And even though you didn’t get to take him home and feed him in the morning, your phone still dings through your snooze with a message under Benny’s name that reads:

What did the barista say to his crush?

I like you a latte. :)

Coffee later?

The warmth in your stomach from the night before blooms again and you laugh into your pillow before you text back:

Love to!

#benny miller x reader #benny miller x gn!reader #benny miller x you #triple frontier #well here we are again

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biggirllifestyle · 3 years

Text

Over The Rails

Summary: After Peter posts a video of him and his friends at the roller rink on their group chat Bucky can’t seem to get his mind off Peter’s friend who stole the show, and after getting goaded into going skating with the other avengers (Natasha’s conniving planning) where Peter’s friend works at Bucky can’t help but feel that there’s something to look forward to.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Plus-Sized Reader

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: Swearing, Physical harm (from Roller Skating), Future Confrontational Violence, etc.

A/N: So I am taking up a new hobby, Roller skating, it’s been something I have always wanted to try but I was always told that something like that was not meant for someone of my size, and stubborn ole me is gonna prove them wrong. So here I am writing a story that I hope will help break that insecurity telling you that something was not made for you because of your size. Do what you want to do and Fuck those people telling you that you can’t do it be Petty and prove them wrong. ALSO I think this will be multi chaptered which I’m kind of worried cause I suck but like yeah. Enjoy!!!!

The first time Bucky had seen them was on a video Peter had sent to the group chat he took the liberty to make, mostly it was filled with messages from Peter and Shuri catching up with each other or asking feedback on their current inventions and sometimes (not sometimes all the time) they would send each other memes (as he was told they were called) they were a funny bunch some he didn’t understand the references to but over all he tolerated it (also he was still getting used to having his own mobile device so he had no clue how to get himself out of it) and surprisingly enough Steve himself joined in on the shenanigans sending his own versions of these memes that Bucky himself could understand.

The day that Bucky had seen Peter’s video he was just coming back from a mission, next to him snoozing away and taking up too much space than she needed was Natasha, he figured she was doing this to test the other agents who had questioned her credibility of being brought on to this mission short to say she wasn't amused. Bucky knew when to not get involved and in this instance Nat seemed to be on a mission and he in no way was gonna stop that.

After securing himself to the seat he retrieved his phone from the holding compartment, as he waited for it to turn on he thought about Steve’s offer to move in together he was finally cleared by medical to move out of the compound it was a hard process of healing from the trauma that came from the brainwash and the actions he did while under different people’s control with an agreement to attend weekly therapy and he was free. Steve had helped and while he was out here finishing up his mission, he figured that this was his chance to start anew in a world where everything has come to progress.

When he finally looked down at his phone he saw that it was bombarded by notification from the chat, it seemed that Peter had posted another one of those videos with his friends and Shuri seemed to be raving about it, his curiosity got the better of him even though he knew better not too (last time he ended up watching a minute long video of Peter and his friend Ned trying to stuff four slices of pizza in the shortest amount of time, least to say Bucky was not amused).

The video seemed to be of Peter, Ned, and MJ Peters girlfriend at a skating rink, Ned and Peter seemed to be struggling keeping themselves upright as MJ cruised around them acting like it was the easiest thing in the world as she laughed at the boys struggle, but what caught his attention was not Peter and Ned’s struggle but instead he was focused on the person behind them who seemed to be moving towards them with ease, almost as if they were flowing in water, she came to a complete stop behind the boys as she said something to MJ who burst out laughing before they joined hands and moved away. The camera seemed to be magnetized towards them and it caught as MJ and the other girl started dancing around as they cruised through couples meeting at certain points to sing along as the song continued in the background, everything was going good until the girl crashed into someone sending her sprawling on the floor and the video was cut abruptly.

Bucky made a noise of concern and that seemed to have peaked Natasha’s interest, she watched silently over his shoulder to see what had made him worried a small grin spreading across her face,

“Why Sergeant Barnes I wasn’t aware that you were interested in new hobbies, if you wanted to be hip with the kids I would have suggested something less vigorating like crocheting.”

Bucky gave Natasha a glowering look at her jab to his age, she was giving him an annoying grin and he couldn’t help the push he gave her forgetting his strength and almost dropping her off the seat, she didn’t seem to mind as she reached over and grabbed at her own phone texting away into her phone at a rapid speed, before another grin with a sharper edge came over her face and Bucky knew that he was fucked. His phone went off and he ignored it because he knew it was her doing, but the moment he felt it go off continuously nonstop he couldn't help the dread that came over him so he opened the chat seeing Natasha’s doing.

*W.A.P Chat*

Arachnobaby🕷:*Video Attachment*

Arachnobaby🕷: So we went roller skating

*Seen*

Widow Queen👸: It seems baby Spider that you got our sergeants

attention, I think he wants to give it a try.

SnowCAP⛄️: Oh I wouldn’t be surprised back in the day Buck used to

be the best at roller skating, I mean one time we were

on a mission in Berlin he showed what he could really do

skated circles around those hydra agents.

BirdMan🐥: Now that I would have to love to see, What do you say

Robocop when you come back wanna hit the rinks and show

Your inner Bill Bogash.

Arachnobaby🕷: Oh that sounds like a great idea my friend bibi,

She’s the girl who crashed at the end, works at

the rink so I can ask her if she can book us a night

where it could only be us and that way we won’t

bother anyone or anything.

The Supreme🧙‍♀️: I feel like this is a disaster waiting to happen

especially with @BirdMan🐥 goading our sergeant.

The Vision: Sergeant Barnes capabilities are meant to be used for a

greater purpose, I do not believe he would want to waste

his energy in these trivial competitions.

Arachnobaby🕷: How did he get in!!! *he doesn’t even go here meme*

RoboCop🤖: I hate you…

RoboCop🤖: But You’re on.

Bucky turned to Natasha with a glare ready set on his face, he wasn’t glad that he was goaded into going out with the group but he was also glad that Natasha hadn’t really figured out what had really interested him from the video. Natasha seemed to be distracted looking towards the Reeds, the one who questioned her authority, giving him a shark like smile as he sat ramrod straight trying to ignore the assassin who was giving him her full attention.

Bucky nudged her trying to make her ease up since they were ready to land, as soon as the hanger doors were open Reed booked it as if his ass was on fire the other agents following close behind. Natasha turned to him a small smile on her lips as she began to grab her duffle,

“Maybe as you’re trying to prove your skills on the rink, you also take the chance to ask out Peter’s friend, might do you some good to abandon your grouchy persona.”

And with those last words she turned and marched off, she knew.

“Fuck!”

Part 2

#plus size ofc #pluss size #original work #plus size oc #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #bucky x plus size reader #sebastian stan

95 notes · View notes

madamewriterofwrongs · 3 years

Note

“Let’s share my coat, since you’re so cold.” For Buddie plz bc imagine the potential 💛🥺

So sorry about the long wait, my darling. I hope you enjoy <3

Hold My Hand When No One’s Looking

911/Buddie

Honestly, Eddie hadn’t noticed it right away. He and Buck were relatively the same size (though the other man was a bit wider in the chest and arms) and spent much of their day in uniforms. It also so happened that the two of them had similar styles when it came to their civilian clothing. There was a lot of denim and a lot of circle-necked shirts in their shared wardrobe.

He’d known that asking Buck to move in with him would mean surrendering to the fact that everything he owned would slowly become ‘theirs’. His favourite show became their late-night binge, his unhealthy snack choices mysteriously disappeared whenever Buck was left alone to babysit Christopher, and one time he swore that his toothbrush had been moved – though he’d never been able to prove it. But Eddie didn’t mind, not really. Buck had already stolen his heart, so he’d happily let him steal the rest of his life.

Telling Carla that very thing when she’d asked him about his mismatched socks had earned him a side-splitting laugh and a text to Buck, who later teased him mercilessly for the rest of the week.

He still had no regrets about letting him in.

Because that was what you did where there was love and trust. You didn’t mind sharing because you had someone who wanted to share with you in the first place.

He was even becoming better at opening up about personal things. He still struggled to admit when he was scared or upset about something because for so long, he’d understood that expressing his feelings wasn’t his job. Though he knew better now, it was still a monumental task for Eddie to share some anecdote about his childhood or speak up when Buck said something that struck an errant nerve.

But it was worth it, he vowed. It was worth it to try, and he didn’t mind sharing those things with Buck. He didn’t think he minded sharing anything with his partner.

That is to say: he was fine, until he searched through his closet one morning, scrambling to get to work on time because someone had hit the snooze button one too many times.

“Where is my grey sweatshirt?” He threw the pile of clothes from the closet floor to the bed. “Where are any of my sweatshirts?”

“Laundry?” Buck called from the bathroom, poking his head out with a toothbrush still dangling from his lips.

“There’s no way I got every single one of my sweatshirts dirty since the last time I did the laundry.” As he continued his search, he could hear Buck rinse and spit before beginning his morning routine of styling his hair with way too much product for Eddie’s liking (though he’d never complain because it gave him a chance to play with his hair throughout the day until it was exactly to his preferences). Sure enough, he found a collection of clothes in the hamper that definitely resembled his but he did not remember wearing.

Though he did remember watching Buck spill ketchup on a grey sweater that looked suspiciously like his.

How had he not noticed before? How long had Buck just been taking clothes out of his closet? Why hadn’t he bothered to ask first? He would have been happy to share – well maybe not elated but he wouldn’t have minded – but for Buck to just take them without permission (and then get them dirty)? It bothered him more than he thought it should have.

He wants to wear your clothes, the untamed romantic portion of his brain swooned.

He’s stretching out your shirts without asking, the frantic portion grumbled as he searched for a wearable sweatshirt from the pile of clothes that had apparently become communal without his knowledge.

“Did you find it?” Buck reentered the bedroom, now looking much more put together than Eddie felt.

“I found something.” He grumbled as he threw the black shirt over his head, grimacing at the old clothes smell that lingered on the fabric. “When we get home, you’re doing laundry.”

Buck squawked as he threw on his own – clean – shirt. “Why do I have to do it?”

Because it’s your fault I don’t have any clothes to wear. If he’d had time, he might have launched into a lecture about why this small thing frustrated him so much. But alas, they were already running behind, so he silenced them both with a kiss.

“No complaints.” He gently ordered, smirking at the way Buck immediately melted under his touch. It was a nice reminder that the feeling of adoration was very much mutual between them.

“Okay.”

“Let’s go.” He smacked Buck on the behind as they stumbled out the bedroom door. “If we’re late again, Bobby will make us scrub the truck with a toothbrush. Again.”

After that morning, it was as though Eddie became hyperaware of how often Buck wore his clothes. At least twice per week, he’d find his favourite t-shirt in the back of his boyfriend’s closet, or search for several minutes only to discover someone else’s ass in his only clean jeans.

Once, he’d grabbed one of Buck’s pants in protest, but spent the entire day pulling at the inseam and ended up rolling the pantlegs just to avoid tripping.

And yet, when the boy with the giraffe legs wore his pants, it looked hot.

Did it look hot? Of course, Eddie had surrendered to his physical attraction to Buck long ago. Nearly anything that man wore would get him going. Was there something about seeing Buck in his clothes that made him look exceptionally appealing?

The day he pulled one of his nicer dress shirts over his head, only to find the sleeves had been completely stretched (and there were definitely a few seams missing) was the day he decided that no amount of sexiness would let him forgive Buck for stealing his clothes.

Maybe it was petty of him to start hiding his good clothes. And maybe it was immature to start separating their laundry – not to mention a waste of water – but at least he knew he’d have his own clean clothes to wear. It wasn’t like Buck was lacking for wardrobe. The man took up the majority of their shared closet with his selections. “Something for every occasion.” He’d told Eddie. Which made it all the more confusing that he would want to take from Eddie’s meager pile.

“Hey, Eddie, can I borrow your green long sleeve?” He asked as he searched the closet for the item without waiting for a reply. Of course, Eddie knew that he wouldn’t find the shirt amongst its brethren because he’d hidden it in a bin under the bed for this exact occasion.

At least he’s finally asking for permission. Too late for him, now.

“I don’t have a green long sleeve.” Eddie continued to dress with the picture of innocence masking his satisfied smirk.

“I’m sure you do.” Buck mumbled as he headed towards the dresser (also 70% Buckley). “I wore it to Bobby’s BBQ three weeks ago.”

“Oh, so he admits to wearing my clothes.” His mumbled sarcasm was intended to only pacify his own needs, but unfortunately, his boyfriend had excellent hearing at the most inconvenient of times.

“What do you mean ‘he admits’?”

Well, Eddie glanced at the alarm clock to confirm they had just enough time to get into their discussion, he might as well bring it up now instead of months in the future when it had grown into an even worse frustration and festered into every aspect of their relationship. Or they could nip it in the bud now.

Despite the topic of discussion, he was still surprised when he gave a long sigh and turned around only to find a very shirtless Buck standing before him. He was only momentarily distracted by the smooth lines and soft, exposed skin – he was only human – but he recovered with most of his dignity intact.

“You have so many clothes but you always wear mine. Why?”

Of course, Buck looked sheepishly adorable, and perhaps a little confused at the hostility being directed towards him. “I like your clothes. I didn’t think you minded.”

“Well I do mind. You keep stretching the fabric and then you get them dirty and I have nothing to wear.” Eddie was proud of his composure in the face such a stunned and sweetly wide-eyed expression.

“Oh, I-I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

The logical portion of his brain knew very well that if Eddie simply told Buck that this was bothering him, he’d stop immediately. Why it took him so long to bring it up and then felt surprised by the outcome, he still wasn’t sure. One look at the sincerity on his boyfriend’s face and him reaching an arm to summon him to his side.

Buck took his hand immediately, letting himself stumble into Eddie’s embrace and throw his arms around his waist with practiced ease. This was comfortable. This, he could do: hold Buck close and tell him the truth.

“I don’t like that you didn’t ask me first if you could borrow my clothes. That bothers me more than a few ruined shirts (although, I’m still not letting you wear my green long sleeve. It’s one of my favourite shirts and I’d like to preserve some of the shape).” Buck opened his mouth to call out his lie from moments earlier but wisely closed it a moment later. “Just ask, okay?”

The man in his arms quickly nodded, a shy smile on his lips. “I’m sorry, you’re right. I’ll ask before borrowing your clothes again.”

He knew he was being too cheeky for his own good, but how could he resist those kissable lips? “I’m sorry, I’m what, now?” Buck scrunched his face, preparing to protest, silenced a moment later by Eddie pulling him just close enough for their lips to meet.

Kissing Buck had quickly become one of Eddie’s favourite past times. A quick peck at work, a long reunion after a long day, a sloppy smooch against the truck after one of them had consumed too much alcohol but they were both drunk on each other (and he’d wisely kept that particular nugget of poetry to himself, lest he face more ridicule). The largest change when taking the sidestep from ‘best friends’ to ‘lovers’ had been their level of physical contact, which had always been comfortably close. Now, there was no space between them. No barriers.

But they still had to wear their own clothes. That was where Eddie drew the line when it came to sharing their lives. It was an arbitrary line, to be sure, but it was one to which he held firm. As predicted, Buck was quick to respect the line and stick mostly to his own wardrobe. When he asked to borrow a dress shirt or shorts, he made a habit of coming up behind Eddie and wrapping his arms around his middle, gently murmuring his clothing request in Eddie’s ear like a salacious secret. Was it a dirty move? Absolutely. Did Eddie cave every single time? Without a doubt. Did he respect that his boyfriend exploited his weaknesses? Somehow, it made him love him more. He also respected that Buck didn’t abuse his super power for every clothing item. He accepted Eddie’s distaste for ill-fitting clothing and always turned to his wardrobe first.

Miraculously, many of Buck’s clothes started getting thrown in the donation hamper – almost as though he hadn’t worn them in months or years and no longer had need of them. Soon enough, their wardrobe had evened out and Eddie could actually mark the distinction between his and Buck’s side of the dresser.

Suddenly he could breathe again.

“It wasn’t about the clothes.” Eddie informed him one night as they lay in bed.

Of course, Buck propped up on his elbows to face Eddie despite the darkness. “What wasn’t?”

“The clothes borrowing thing.”

“The clothes borrowing things wasn’t about the clothes?” It was understandable to hear confusion in his voice.

“I brought it up to Frank the other day. And we talked about why it bothered me so much.”

“You said that I was stretching out your clothes (which I’m choosing to take as a compliment, by the way).” As a show of comfort, Eddie ran a hand under the sleeve of Buck’s night shirt, only to laugh when his boyfriend pulled away a moment later. “Why are your hands always so cold?”

“Not all of us are a furnace.” He gently reminded, knowing it would go completely unmarked by the human stove. “And while I am definitely not a fan of you stretching my shirts, it wasn’t actually about that.” One thing he loved about Buck from long before their romance began, was his ability to wait for Eddie to gather the courage to continue speaking. He rarely prompted or interjected when time stretched between them; he gave Eddie the space to find the words.

“It felt like I was losing a part of myself when I saw you in my clothes.” Surely, he could find more words than that. “When I look around this room – when I look around the house – I see us. I see you and Christopher making a pillow fort even though I told you not to take the cushions off the couch. I see me and my son trying to bake a cake for your birthday and actually making one that was edible.”

“Well”

“Are you going to tell Christopher that you hated the cake he made you?”

It was a cheap shot but it hit its mark every single time. “Wow.”

“I see you and me getting ready in the bathroom the first time I told you I loved you.”

It was one of his fondest memories, and one he would treasure forever; the day he’d been brushing his teeth beside Buck, staring at the man who’d come to mean so much to him, and the words tumbled out (along with a glob of foam) before he’d realized how true they were.

“We are all over this house and I love that. But my clothes? They were this thing that was just mine – one little thing I didn’t have to share. And when you took them without asking, it was like you were taking more than just my shirt. If that makes sense.” Clearly, he was out of practice with this sort of discussion (and he ever had this sort of discussion?) because the rambling was making him lightheaded.

“It does.” He could feel his boyfriend shift in the moonlight to something less than a hover, relaxing onto his shoulder so they both faced the ceiling but still felt connected to each other. “And I never meant to make you feel that way. I guess it was that cliched thing where I like smelling like you and having a piece of you with me all the time.” Eddie willed his beating heart to calm.

“Buck, we live and work together, how are you not sick of having me around?”

Another wonderful thing about dating Buck was his newfound ability to feel his eyes on him from across the room. Even in the middle of an emergency, he could look up and find Buck and know what they needed to do. When he was at his side, the stare was overwhelming.

“I will never get sick of you.” Buck’s voice was filled with more emotion than Eddie had words to describe and yet he knew exactly how he felt. “But I won’t wear your clothes anymore.”

His instinct was to protest, to concede to Buck and let him have whatever would make him happy. It had been his instinct for most of his life: make sacrifices so his loved ones would be happy.

You are allowed to have what you want. Buck will still be happy.

He found Buck’s lips in the darkness. “Thank you.”

The scene was a mess. One kitchen fire had spread to several houses before emergency services were even called – Buck admired that the neighbours had all tried to deal with the problem themselves; Eddie thought they were idiots for trying to douse the grease fire with water and then continue to pour water when the flames grew higher. It was a simple enough task to put out the flames and get everyone to safety but it left foam and shivering bodies and bits of debris scattered from the lawn to the street. The cleanup took longer than the rescue, completely unaided by the mid-day son beating down on the scene, melting both foam and firefighter with equal measure.

Mercifully, Bobby was the first to remove his jacket and throw it on the pavement so he could work with more ease, leading the way for his crew to strip off their heavy turnout gear and throw it in a pile. While their equipment wasn’t any less boiling to the touch, they were at least given this small reprieve while they continued to work.

And if Buck and Eddie were separately caught distractedly watching their boyfriend work in their form-fitting pants and sweat-soaked shirts, that was an added bonus of just doing their job.

Once they were finally in a position to leave (after doling a few lectures and congratulations to the civilians who’d tried really hard and only made things worse), the crew grabbed their coats from the pile and headed back to the trucks. Eddie would never admit it, but sometimes, he was distracted by the mere sight of Buck. The blond was teased constantly for his so-called ‘heart eyes’ whenever he thought no one was looking, but Eddie knew he was just as bad. It was difficult not to – considering his partner’s attractive physical features – but even to admire Buck’s enthusiasm and heart were unavoidable when he let himself enjoy a moment of peace.

Life since they’d begun their romance had been calm in a way Eddie never imagined his life to be – because there never really was a moment of calm, and yet it was the most serene he’d felt in a very long time. Every day was an adrenaline rush of emergency calls and worrying for his son. He still awoke with nightmares of the past and future reminding him that every one of his failings had consequences. His wounds still ached in the daylight and his life was constantly in peril. He still stumbled over milestones when it came to raising Christopher without the mother of his child, and no amount of forgiveness could completely erase the shame he felt in asking for help. But through it all, through every loss and victory both at work and at home, he didn’t feel alone. He had a partner in all things who loved his son and tried every day to be there for the two of them.

He wished he could say he wasn’t surprised at how well Buck fit into their domestic lives but it had never occurred to him to imagine it until he was asking his boyfriend of six months to move into his home because so many of his things were there anyways. The first morning he awoke to fresh coffee and the smoke alarm screeching in his ear, it somehow sealed his fate: he and Buck fit comically well together.

And the man knew him in a way no one had (not his wife, not parents, not any friend he’d ever had). He liked to think he knew Buck just as well but he enjoyed every time that he discovered something new about his partner. It sent a shiver of delight through his bones when he realized that he never wanted to stop learning about this man who made him feel happy.

He did, however, need to talk to Bobby about ordering a new jacket because his current one was much too big, especially in the shoulder area. Which was odd because he didn’t remember having that problem earlier. Of course, Eddie rolled his eyes, he must have grabbed the wrong coat – probably Buck’s – which would explain his sudden lack of stature. As he swung the offending item off his back, he searched for his partner in order to toss the coat in his face (as one does when one is hopelessly in love with a dork), only to stop short when he finally caught sight of him.

Whether by accident or design, Buck had grabbed Eddie’s coat and was proudly wearing it as he went about his normal duties, completely unaware that the sleeves were just a little too short, and the back was stretched a little too tightly. In fact, it was stretched taut in a manner that displayed the LAFD logo and bright stripes for all to see; and right underneath was Eddie’s last name. Four letters he’d seen all his life were suddenly given a different meaning.

‘Diaz’ had never been just his, it has always been something he shared: first with his family, and then Shannon, and then to Christopher the moment he held his son in his arms. He had been lectured by May once about the concept of ownership and the woman having to take the husband’s last name as though she belonged to him. He was well away of the history of name changes in marriages and significance in contemporary society of couples choosing different ways to express their commitment to one another. Call him old fashioned – and he knew that he was – but he had never seen Shannon taking his last name as a symbol of ownership; to Eddie, it meant that they were a family. A clan. Together in all things. There was a sense of pride in knowing that his name would live on when he was gone and that he was able to share this thing with the people he cared for most.

As if it were nothing at all, there was Buck, walking around in public with the name Diaz on display. Anyone who didn’t know them might believe that was his name. What would Buck say if a stranger called him ‘Mr. Diaz’ or ‘Firefighter Diaz’? Would he blush and smile, would he vehemently correct them, would he brush it off but realize he didn’t want to be associated with that name ever again?

Did he want that? Did he want Buck associated with his last name? There was no guarantee when they got married that either of them would change their names. Maybe, they could hyphenate.

When they got married.

Eddie didn’t ask for his jacket back.

Later, when someone asked him how dinner went, Eddie would have no earthly idea what they even ordered. He remembered confirming with Buck that they had reservations for their anniversary dinner, he remembered Hen picking up Christopher for his overnight playdate, he remembered kissing Buck against the bathroom door when he emerged in his dress shirt and tie, he remembered driving to the restaurant too afraid to hold his boyfriend’s hand because his palms were suspiciously clammy.

It was just a dinner at a nicer restaurant to celebrate their anniversary together. They’d had one of these already and a million dates in between. Yet it sent his heart racing every time. Not only was he a fan of Buck when he dressed to the nines (he loved that man in everything and nothing, but the tight dress pants were a treat) but it was also a celebration of their time together. Of how far they’d come as a couple and as individuals. Going out in public came with a small amount of anxiety and guilt, of course, but they’d worked through every setback as partners and would continue to do so.

On their first official date, Eddie had called Buck at 3am to inform him that they could never see each other again because he was betraying his wife’s memory by moving on. Another time, they had run into one of Buck’s previous conquests who was alarmingly cavalier about their sex history but incredibly judgmental about Buck’s current situation. Introducing Buck to his parents was more than a little nerve-racking (though significantly better than meeting the Buckleys for the first time) but had turned out amiably enough when they saw how much Eddie and Christopher cared for the man – and more importantly, how much Buck cared about Christopher.

Christopher had been his saving grace in so many ways, not the least of which was figuring out how to introduce Buck at school functions. ‘Boyfriends’ was the term they used most often but it still felt juvenile whenever he said it out loud. ‘Lover’ had made both of them double over in laughter, and ‘special friend’ was off the table before it had left his mouth. Though he’d never said it out loud, Eddie was saying the term ‘Partner’ for a special occasion.

The first time Eddie had brought Buck to the afterschool pick up so his teachers could meet the other adult with special permission to care for Christopher, he’d stressed to the point of tearing a small hole in the steering wheel cover about what to call him.

And then Christopher had run into his best friend’s arms and introduced everyone to ‘His Buck’ as though that name was the only explanation anyone needed. But it did the trick. Everyone greeted him with kindness and respect and when one of the teachers asked Eddie if this was, indeed, ‘His Buck’, all he’d been able to do was blush and nod.

They’d overcome every little thing that life had thrown their way. They could get through one little dinner.

“You have been fidgety all night.” Buck teased through another mouthful of garlic bread. Or maybe they couldn’t. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing is up with me.” He lied. “I’m just tired. Long shift.”

“Boring shift. Four false alarms, seven car accidents, and one heart attack. I would have killed for a house fire or even someone stuck in a tree.”

“How would they have gotten stuck in a tree?”

Buck shrugged, stuffing another loaf into his mouth. “Maybe they were skydiving but the wind picked up and they got carried away.”

They continued their hypothetical discussion (which turned to the topic of craziest saves, most disgusting encounters, and most obvious lies) until their shared appetizer arrived and he realized how at ease he felt despite his earlier tension. That was another miraculous thing about being with Buck. Without meaning to – for he did it far too often to be intentional – he could pull Eddie from whatever wave was threatening to pull him under and keep him company by just being himself. They would talk and laugh and find companionship with one another until suddenly, the waves had subsided.

“Where’s my phone?” Buck patted his entire body, despite only possessing two pockets in which he could fit his cell. Upon finding nothing, he concluded “I must have left it in the truck, I’m just going to go grab it.”

When Buck reached for Eddie’s jacket pocket, knowing the keys were always in the right, Eddie felt a new wave of panic suddenly submerge him and he shouted “Don’t touch that!” too loudly for anyone at the adjoining tables to misunderstand him.

The way his boyfriend instantly paled, told him that no one had misunderstood his harsh reaction. Buck released the jacket, letting it fall to the ground, but hesitated to grab it. A thousand curses and warning bells echoed through Eddie’s mind, knowing full well how far his partner’s mind could travel down a dangerous path before he ever reached him.

“I’m sorry, Eddie,” he sputtered. “I know we talked about the clothes thing, I just forgot.” Only then did he finally reach a hand to take the jacket on the tasteless restaurant carpet. “Can I grab-”

“No.” He snatched the offending object before Buck could finish his sentence; flinging it away with such force that the contents of his pockets spilt onto the floor. Another curse barely left his lips before both men were on their hands and knees, scrambling to retrieve the objects.

Buck found it first.

“What’s this?”

Eddie froze with a hand on his keys, eyes locked on his partner – his best friend – holding the small velvet box that had once been housed in his jacket pocket. Abandoning all else, Eddie crawled to meet Buck beside the table. He breathlessly watched the other man examine the box, feeling the edges with sharp anticipation

A voice that wasn’t his own whispered in the space between them “open it.” With medical gentility, Buck pulled open the lid and Eddie watched his expressions shift as understanding took hold.

He’d been so careful, to the point of paranoia, about picking out the perfect ring. There had been incognito browser searches, late-night chats with Hen about same-sex protocol (for which he repaid her with many cups of espresso), and one very anxious expedition to the jewelers to find the perfect one. And right at the finish line, he fumbled over his own two feet.

The only memory that mattered, though, was the look in Buck’s eyes when he saw the ring and realized what it symbolized to both of them. What Eddie was asking for wasn’t marriage: it was everything. A life of sharing their darkest selves and celebrating every triumph. Being both an individual and a pair in equal measure – partners in every sense. Respect and trust and joy would become home, security would be a given; everything was asked with that circle bonding them together.

“I’m sorry for grabbing your jacket.” Buck whispered when he finally looked away from the box in his shaking hands. The laugh that escaped Eddie was barely more than a cry of barely restrained tears but it brought a smile to both their faces.

“It’s okay.” Neither could look away now that they’d found each other in the silence. “Do you like it?”

“It’s nice. Did Maddie help you pick it out?”

“She offered when I went to ask for her blessing but this was all me.”

“You asked for her blessing? How traditional.”

“I’m a traditional kind of guy.”

“I know. Sophia told me what you did to her first boyfriend.”

“It was only meant to scare the guy. How was I to know he had asthma?”

“He was 15, you shouldn’t have done it anyway. I think it might be illegal now.”

“Oh my god.” Both men looked up at the waitress standing over them with their food in hand. “Will you ask him already?” A few chuckles from curious onlookers reminded them that they were still kneeling in the middle of a restaurant with Buck holding the ring he wasn’t meant to see yet.

The blush that crept on his partner’s face matched his own, but Eddie’s only focus was on fulfilling the server’s request.

“Marry me, Buck?”

His smile outshone the entire city of Los Angeles.

“Yes.”

As cheers erupted around them, Eddie scooted across the carpet to pull his fiancé into a kiss saturated with joy and laughter. His hands fairly shook as they clasped Buck’s cheeks to hold them steady but nothing else matter to him but that smile.

Slipping the engagement band onto his finger was prolonged by the trembling in both their hands but with time, he stared down at the circle, knowing it was finally where it belonged.

He only realized he had stared for too long when the waitress cleared her throat to grab their attention.

“If you folks wouldn’t mind taking your seats; these plates are kinda hot.” The men scrambled back into their booth, offering copious apologies to the woman who simply rolled her eyes and told them that dessert would be on the house. A handful of patrons offered their congratulations but Eddie rarely turned his attention away from the man across from him. Every time their eyes met for the rest of the night, he could feel the dopey-eyed grin that refused to melt away. He hoped it never did.

The evening had not gone the way he’d planned in any shape of the word but for years to come, he would relish in telling the story of their engagement, and of the full lives they shared together.

#cj writes things #softboiidiaz #love sunny #buddie #buddie fic #911 fox #911 fic #evan buckley #eddie diaz #established relationship #clothes sharing

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tenderlyrenjun · 4 years

Text

the one with the morning classes [preview]

summary: you don’t really want to go to class, and Yangyang half-agrees.

↛ ↛ ↛ best friend’s younger brother!Yanyang x older reader

↛ ↛ female reader, college au, mentions of alcohol, smut (18+), sneaky relationship/sex, morning sex, food mention, this is a preview! i just wanted to post it

↛ word count: 2,870k

part one > pt. 2 preview > part two

if you are under 18 and interact with this at all, you get blocked

An obnoxious ringing interrupts your day, way too early, and you whine at it, suddenly reminded about the terrible decision that you made last year with the on-call academic advisor: selling your soul to Satan, or, as they phrased it, taking an 8 A.M. class. The default iPhone ringtone seems especially heartless right now, even though you have a class at this time every semester.

Still, it takes Herculean effort to pull your hot, sweaty face out of the pillows and actually get a breath of fresh air. You inhale once, twice, then support yourself on your elbows, tossing all your messy hair over your bare back, like a curtain, to draw it away from your cheeks. The sunlight makes you squint, not having given you enough time to adjust to it yet, because laying in bed, naked, is so much more enticing than actually waking up. Unfortunately, the ringing persists, getting louder, you think. You find yourself clawing through the sheets again, in search of that damn alarm. And when you do find it, screen faced down, you hit snooze via power button, giving yourself extra time before class.

After the annoying sound stops, Yangyang leans toward your naked shoulder, his d!ck thrusting in you at a further angle. He kisses the tip your spine with slightly parted lips, peppering more along your deltoid muscles, directed by his trailing tongue. You cannot tell was tingles more – the goosebumps left in his wake, or the blood rushing to your vulva, caused by the nipping at your skin. Yangyang finds a more permanent spot (that would be hidden by a shirt) above your collarbone and sucks deeper for a few seconds. Instinctively, you drop your cheek into the sheets again and swirl your ass up, before propping your lower body on your knees. His groans fall with you, and he nearly did too, but he stands on his hands. You are very aware of his strength, especially now as you close your eyes and he reverses your moves, grinding his hips forward. One of his hands reaches forward to grab your face and finally kiss you. He is slow and head spinning, and he continuously inclines his head at varying degrees to keep the embrace going.

Then, your phone goes off again and you break the kiss.

“We need to get – Oh, God.” Your forehead redirects onto the mattress, and your breath becomes shallow, cracked by sharp whines blurring out the alarm. As far as you are concerned, Yangyang is all consuming, from the way he kisses you to the way he makes you feel. “Ah, right there, please.” He squeezes your ass, fingers drilling deeply into you skin. His touch feels better than a massage, you think, almost loosening up all your muscle tension.

“So naughty,” Yangyang whispers, strongly. He sounds masculine without being so aggressive. It is very sexy of him. You try to show him, too, that he is hot, by reacting more enthusiastically. Unlike him, you say it silently and hope he knows. He replies, slapping your butt again, and smirks when you moan. “Wanna play hooky? You still, fuck –“ His breath drops, voice getting lower, huskier. He propels his d!ck shallowly, at the same pace your mouth widens in an ‘O’ shape. “- remember your manners.”

“Mmm hmm,” you agree. You roll your hips side to side, slowly stretching as if coming out of child’s position in yoga. It similarly feels satisfactory, like an injection of morphine. “We really need to get up. I have class; you – shit –“ His thrust pushes you forward, muting your counterarguments. “- you have class soon.”

Yangyang combs your baby hairs onto your opposite shoulder, gently nibbling around your thyroid, and you whine. “It doesn’t sound like you want to get up yet.” He guides your hips like a figure eight motion. His hand comes around front, between your thighs, holding on in a way that allows him to stimulate your clit. Every movement gets more intense: the speed, the pressure, even the direction of his fingers, as he elongates all the sensations. It even feels like he gets bigger too, lunging more alert with his thrusts. “You need a good wake up call, huh?”

You nod, eagerly, biting your lip. “Mmhmm, my morning ritual is, is really long, fuck.”

Yangyang smirks, motivated even more by the double entendre. And the way his tip rasps against your walls, oh god. You ball the sheets into your fists, putting a protective layer between your nails and palm because he gradually becomes erratic. He comes down to your ear, using his lips to bite at it while whispering, “Wanna turn off the alarm?”

“Hmm?” You open your eyes. “Oh, right.” It doesn’t feel like it has been nine minutes. So, after you pick your phone up again, you turn it over to look at the alarm settings, but it is replaced by a call acceptance slider. You blink a couple times and try getting a clearer look – which is difficult, considering that your head keeps bouncing as he grinds harder and harder, and harder. Then, the call restarts. “Shit.”

Yangyang stops moving to glimpse at what’s wrong. His chest brushes against your back and you can feel his erect n!pples graze your spine. You turn the screen at him, contemplating whether to answer it. Thank God, though, that Ten isn’t asking to FaceTime. You honestly don’t know how you would recover from him seeing Yangyang lay naked on you, especially after that comment at the Halloween party about feeling ‘too comfortable’ with him like this.

“I’m gonna answer it.”

“What?”

“I have to answer it,” you argue. “It’s Ten. He’s going to suspect something if I don’t.” The call ends again, and the notification center shows six missed calls. You turn over your phone again. “Shit, he’s been phoning all morning. I have to answer it.”

You brush your hair over your shoulder again and shakily redial Ten’s number. The line rings twice before he answers.

“Um, hello?” Ten answers skeptically, on speaker. “Are you ready? ETA 20.” You hear rustling on the other end that sounds similar to Yangyang shuffling your bedsheets. Ten doesn’t appear to find out about Yangyang’s presence, so you keep the line off mute. “I’m getting in my car right now.”

“Hmm?”

All the excess noise stops, and you widen your eyes, glancing at Yangyang for some information but he doesn’t know anything either.

“It’s my treat, remember?” Ten tries to jog your memory. It’s just that you are too distracted at the moment to really recall any memories.

Yangyang starts sucking on your neck again, pushing his pelvis at your ass even harder to give you a better reminder: that you are currently being a good girl for him, to make up for being so naughty this morning (even though he also seemed pretty close to ditching class earlier).

“For breakfast yesterday, after the party,” Ten reminds you. Right, it’s Monday, and you often grab coffee with Ten on the way to campus because 8AMs are hell – you have to absorb new information when you can barely see through all the crap in your eyes, and he can barely comprehend his notes from the night before without morning bean juice. There is some shuffling on his end again, similar to shaking his wrist free of a swear to get a better look at his watch. It isn’t enough to hide the moan trapped in your throat. So, you try biting your fist as Yangyang swirls his hips, grazing the ends of your nerves. You roll your eyes to the back of your head and hit mute, in order to moan. “Unless you want to walk? I don’t think you’ll make it though. It’s, like, almost 7:20.”

“What?” your voice cracks. You are still muted though, so you un-mute and repeat the exclamation, whining a little when Yangyang tries to get you to orgasm faster, also having heard the time. Hopefully Ten does not notice anything. You think that you were quiet enough to push it off as a complaint.

“I’ll be outside your apartment in 20.”

Yangyang pulls your chin to make you look at him, staring at you to ask what is going on. You mouth a quick explanation: Ten. Ride. Coffee. 20 minutes. He is so close, warm breath enveloping your skin. You take the distance, initiating yet another kiss, essentially in front of your best friend, although the latter cannot hear or see either of you. Yangyang holds onto your chin, possibly afraid of being swept away or falling again. But you have enough support for both of you, and you know that if you fell, he would catch you. So, you kiss him again, and again.

“Hello?” Ten calls into the void. “Did you lose signal again? See, I told you not to choose the shitty complex on Main because the connection is so bad there.”

You put a hand above Yangyang’s heart and clear your voice, turning to the speaker. “I’m still here. Just, hold on a second.” You hit mute again, then turn to Yangyang. “Do you want a ride too?” Yangyang contemplates for a second, and you drop your forehead into your elbow, biting your lip because, after all, he is still inside you, inside your clenching and very aroused p.ussy, where you want him to finish. He nudges your shoulder with his nose and confirms that yeah, he needs a ride. You kiss him a few more times, unsure why, just wanting to be close – something about want to say in his presence, enjoying his presence. He swirls his hips. It feels really good to be with him. “Yeah, so Yangyang is in the neighborhood.”

“Wha-“

“A huh,” you whine, more at Yangyang than Ten. “He just texted me. He’ll meet you – us! He’ll meet us at my apartment. I’m going to get ready now, bye!” you say everything in one breath, hanging up as equally abruptly before Ten could insert his two cents. You drop the phone and turn around, kissing Yangyang deeply. As he returns your affection, you enunciate slowly, “Five minutes, then we have to get ready. Ten is getting too suspicious.”

Yangyang finishes a little bit after five minutes, not that you mind. Non-residents have to get buzzed into your building, and Ten doesn’t have a key to your front door. You indulge the moment, laying on your arm bent under a pillow. He looks at you with all the care in the world, no longer that suave fuck buddy from a few moments ago but a young romantic who caresses your inner thigh and talks big game about all the connection you two have in common, or don’t. Your hand dips to the top of his head, combing a small section with your nails to his ends. Yangyang asks you for the time, and you almost don’t give it to him, preferring to spend time with him here than overanalyzing some stupid thesis statement that you wrote at 4AM. Ten will arrive in ten minutes – ironic, you laugh.

Yangyang runs into the shower ahead of you, jokingly holding the glass door shut for a few seconds. And when you glare at him, he thinks you look really hot, so he lets go. You jump in with, prepared to scold him. He grabs your ass, pushing you against the wall, making out with you for a few more seconds, until you start stretching at the lavender body wash on the shelf behind him. This time, he finishes first, hopping out to spray the roots of his hair with dry shampoo so that Ten doesn’t get too suspicious. If Yangyang has wet hair, then it would be obvious that he stayed over. He puts back the bottle and wanders into your room, towel wrapped around his waist, even though it’s nothing you haven’t seen before. There are a few of his clothes in your closet from all the times you stole his clothes, or all the mini getaways that you two have taken. After changing into an outfit that he can wear in public, he picks out an extra oversized shirt and drapes it on the towel rack for when you get out. He knows that you really like his clothes, especially the organic band t-shirts. It is another plus that the two of you have the same music taste. Hopefully, none of his friends can pick up on anything.

He likes that you spend a lot of time in his clothes. They always end up smelling like your lotions. It is comforting and reminds him of all the nights ‘studying’ until 3AM .You know, not that he would actually say it out loud (because he also like to wear his favorite shirt), but you look cuter than him with his Kendrick Lamar concert tee. And besides, there is a secondary reason as to why he looked through your underwear drawer: he wanted to choose your panties for today. It might have been a black lingerie set, but how is he supposed to know the difference between a t-shirt bra and a balconette? :^)

Yangyang makes his way into the kitchen, snagging a mini muffin off the island. With the work out he just had, he needs protein but there’s not enough time to cook anything. He tosses two more muffins into his backpack for later – one chocolate muffin for him, one strawberry muffin for you. On Mondays, between classes, he usually catches you in the student experience center, finishing up last minute assignments. You always end up pushing lunch until after four, so he tries to bring you some snacks, whenever he can. Once, his research methods class got cancelled and you didn’t have any pre-lecture material to work on, so he brought two cups of ramen. The two of you had a semi-date then. He wonders if it could happen again today. Ten interrupts the thought, with another call, and he sighs. He doesn’t know why, but he keeps thinking about defining this relationship at the worst possible times..

“Yellow?” Yangyang answers, mid-bite. He shifts the phone to his shoulder so that he can check your notification for any missed calls. You have six. Ten has been going to voicemail all morning, and if Yangyang was him, he would be damn suspicious.

“Hi, baby,” Ten coos. “I’m outside. Buzz me in, yeah?”

Yangyang reflexively pouts. “I’m not your baby. I’m 20 now.” Still though, he complies, letting Ten into the building, and his friend is upstairs within a minute – not that it is too far. You live on the second floor.

“So, Ten sings, glancing around the apartment. Yangyang wonders what for; hopefully not searching for his secret relationship. Ten closes the door, eyeing Yangyang up and down suspiciously, in a curious way. “What are you doing in the neighborhood, anyways?”

“I, uh, bought breakfast at Allen’s coffee, down the street,” he lies, “And I didn’t feel like walking back to the frat.” He shrugs too, trying hard to be as nonchalant as possible.

“A huh.” Ten does not seem to accept it, but he lets it slide when you walk into the room, wearing Yangyang’s t-shirt tucked into a pair of black jeans. Yangyang cannot see why Ten would recognize the top because you also happen to like Kendrick Lamar – one of your favorite songs is King Kunta, even though you cannot sing along to save your life. Yangyang finds it endearing that you enjoy rap music, even though you cannot match the flow or pitch.

His gaze is still endearing when you walk into the kitchen, beelining for the last mini muffin. Yangyang catches how intensely he was staring at you, after you blink at him (and Ten).

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing,” they both mutter, looking away.

“Okay,” you drawl suspiciously, swallowing half your breakfast. You fold the rest of it into the front pocket of your backpack and pick up your textbook. Yangyang meets your gaze but you immediately flicker to Ten. “Can we grab something at Starbucks really quick?”

Ten stares at Yangyang. You just got coffee for yourself, even though you were coming here? Yangyang waves a hand, unsure how to respond. This whole secret relationship has gone on longer than he thought it would. It was supposed to be a one-night stand kind of thing when he first kissed you, the night that Ten introduced you two back in March after Renjun’s birthday party, and not even a one-night stand! He just expected you to make out with him, not give him a blowjob in Kun’s bathroom then let him take you back to his room at the frat.

“What?” You look between them. Yangyang shakes his head, nothing. You stare him down and give in, then turn back to Ten. “I haven’t eaten anything. Please?”

“Alright, fine,” Ten cedes. He holds his hands up in surrender, his keys waving like a white flag. As you all file out the door, Yangyang jokingly asks if he can drive. Ten deadpans at him, protective over the car, and smacks him on the back of his head. “Let’s go.”

#/mine #yangyang #yangyang smut #wayv smut #nct smut #yangyang x reader #yangyang fluff #yangyang angst #wayv fluff #yangyang imagines #wayv imagines #wayv scenarios #nct imagines #nct scenarios #/previews

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thatonerandomfan4 · 3 years

Text

Madness Combat: Just Bros Being Dudes

AO3 Link:

(Hhh This Took A Long Ass While Lmao)

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Fandom: Madness Combat

Characters: Deimos, Sanford, Hank (Briefly), Jebus (Briefly), Tricky (Briefly)

Platonic Or Romantic?: Romantic Sanmos

Summary: Just A Normal Saturday In Nevada For The Boyfriends, Sanford And Deimos. They Also Share Their First Kiss With The Help Of Hank And Tricky Thanks To A Text Message. Also Deimos Makes A Lot Of Jokes, If You Know Them Then Congrats. :) If Not, That's Ok.

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The Sound Of The Alarm Clock Went Off At 8:00 AM, Causing Deimos To Wake Up From His Slumber. He Sat Up From The Sleeping Position He Was In And Yawned While Stretching Before Hitting The Snooze Button And Rubbing His Eyes. Looking Over To His Side, He Noticed Sanford Was Absent From His Side Of The Bed. It Was Cold, So He Had Been Probably Gone For A While Now. It Was Done Nicely Compared To The Smaller Man's Side Of The Bed, Which Was Very Messy.

Deimos Knew San Liked To Wake Up An Hour Or Two Earlier Than Him All The Time. He Did That Even If They Weren’t Being Bothered By The L33t / A.A.H.W (Agency Against Hank Wimbleton) Groups Anymore. Deimos Slipped On The Closest Pair Of Slippers He Had By The Bed And Headed Toward The Kitchen. There He Heard Pans Being Set Down On The Stove Or In The Sink To Be Washed Later And Bacon Sizzling In A Pan.

Sanford Was At The Stove Making Breakfast While Whistling One Of Their Favorite Songs. That Favorite Song Happened To Be Poker Face By Lady Gaga, Deimos Would Always Sing And Dance Happily To It While Sanford Watched And Laughed During Their Breaks In Between Missions. Deimos Instantly Smiled At The Sight Of His Boyfriend Being In A Good Mood On A Morning. Everyone Knew Sanford Wasn't Much Of A Morning Person, He Was Only Cheerful When He Knew He Was Going To Have A Good Day.

It Always Was Fun Going On Missions Together And Then Getting To Relax With Each Other Afterwards. They Loved To Chat And Goof Off With Each Other All The Time. The Smaller Man Quietly Shuffled Into The Kitchen Being Careful Not To Distract The Man Cooking And Sat Down In A Chair. Ford Smiled And Flipped The Pancakes In The Pan. San Turned Around To See His Beloved Boyfriend Sitting At The Table.

Sanford, Smug: “Enjoying The View, Dee?’

Deimos, Jumping In Surprise And Hiding His Face In Embarrassment: “U-Uh What? Yeah, I Like Roses. I Mean What-”

Sanford, Giggling A Bit: “What? Anyway, How Many Pancakes Do You Want?”

Deimos: “Ooo, Can I Have 4?”

Sanford Nods And Turns Around, Walking Back To The Stove To Continue Their Breakfast. Deimos Watched His Boyfriend With Love In His Eyes. Dee Loved Watching His Boyfriend Do Anything; He Even Has A Whole Photo Album Full Of...Just Sanford In Battle Poses, Laying Down, Sitting, Ect..

Sanford Knew About Deimos’s Pictures. He Didn’t Really Mind, It Was Just When They Got Posted Online And Girls Were Coming To The Posts and Simping For The Man In The Bandana. Cut Back To Deimos Looking At Sanford With Love In His Eyes, Dee’s Tablet Vibrated On The Table.

Deimos Quickly Picked It Up, And Saw It Was From Hank. His Panic Died Down A Bit, And He Just Stared At The Notification. Like Sanford, Hank Liked Getting Up Early So He Can Get Things Done. One Of Those Things Would Be Making Sure Tricky Wasn’t Eating All The Food In The Fridge. Tricky Normally Has To Be Fed At Least 8 Times A Day To Ease His Chaotic Nature For A Few Minutes At Most. Then Jebus Has To Look After Him For Safety Reasons.

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Hank: Deimos. Are You Up?

Hank: Deimos? It's 7:04 AM.

Hank: ?

Hank: Deimos??

Hank: Oh Yeah. I Forgot You Like To Sleep In

Hank: You're Probably Going To Wake Up At 8:30 AM, As Always.

Hank: Anyway, I Just Wanted To Say Tricky Misses You Guys. He Keeps Talking About You And He’s Wondering If You 2 Can Come Play With Him Later Today Or Tomorrow.

Hank: He's Happy You Two Are A Couple Now. He Bought A Gift For You Too.

Hank: Well….He Stole It, Then I Had To Pay For The Damage….AND The Gift

Hank: Also, Quick Question….Have You 2 Even Kissed Yet?

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There Was Silence For A Good 3 Seconds Until Deimos Screamed, Startling Sanford. The Tablet Fell On The Table Before Ford Could Even Reach His Boyfriend. The Man In The Bandana Hugged His Boyfriend To Calm Him. Ford Thought It Was Some Fangirl Who Messaged Him And Sent Something Gross As That Happened Very Often. He Took The Tablet To See For Himself, And Snorted When He Saw The Message. He Looked At Deimos Desperately Trying Not To Laugh At What He Saw.

Sanford: “You-” *He Quietly Giggles, Trying Not To Embarrass Deimos On Purpose* “You’re Screaming Because We Haven’t Kissed Yet?”

Deimos: “Well- I- Yo- We- He-”

He Was Immediately Silenced By His Boyfriend’s Lips Making Contact With His. They Stayed Like That For A Few Minutes Before Sanford Pulled Back And Got Back To The Stove. Deimos Just Sat There In Shock, His Face All Hot And Red. That Was Their First Ever Kiss, And Deimos Wanted To Be Involved Too. Just Thinking About It Made Him More Flustered. He Must've Been Spaced Out For A While Because When He Looked Up, Sanford Wasn't There. He Checked His Tablet Again And Saw A Notification: A Text From Hank.

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Hank: Lol. Sanford Told Me You Screamed When I Asked.

Hank: That Probably Was Really Funny In Person

Hank: If Only He Recorded It.

Hank: *[One Attachment Sent]*

{Hank: He Didn’t Answer My Question. Did You Guys Kiss Yet Orrr?

Sanford: Well Yes And No. You Embarrassed Him Lol. It Was So Funny Haha

Sanford: He Screamed When He Saw Your Message, Then I Kissed Him.

Hank: Pfft- Are You Serious?! Wow Lol

Sanford: Yeah Lmao. Made Me Throw A Pancake At The Ceiling. It Was Mine Too :(

Sanford: Good Wasted Pancake :(

Sanford: *[One Attachment Sent]* {Image Description: A Gray Tiled Ceiling With A Medium-Sized Pancake Smacked In Between 4 Tiles.}

Hank: XD}

Deimos: I-

Deimos: YOU!! >:( THAT WAS YOUR FAULT HANK J. WIMBLETON!!

Deimos: YOU MADE HIM WASTE HIS PANCAKE. THAT WAS YOU!!

Deimos: YOU FUDGING BULLY >:(

Deimos: I'LL HECKING FIGHT YOU!!

Hank: XD

Hank: Yeah Right Lol. I'll See You Later

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A Couple Minutes Pass And Sanford Taps Deimos On The Shoulder. Dee Turns Around To See His Boyfriend Fully Dressed. A Pile Of Clothes Was Placed In The Seat Next To The Shorter Man. Deimos Could Only Assume It Was His Clothing, As Hank Did Invite Them Over To See Tricky. The Smoker Popped A Cigarette In His Mouth And Left To Get Dressed. Once He Got Back, He Put His Cigarette In The Ashtray And Got Sanford Greeted With A Kiss. Well 2, One On The Forehead And One On The Mouth.

Deimos: “You Know, You Could’ve Waited Till I Was Ready For The Kiss.”

Sanford: “Why? It Would’ve Been A Year Or Two If You Said You Were Ready. That’s Basically How Our Relationship Started. Everyone Knows That, Ev-EVEN TRICKY KNOWS!”

Deimos’s Face Just Heated Up, He Knew That Was True And Couldn't Argue. After That Chat, Sanford And Deimos Got In Their Car And Headed To The Base. Deimos Was Messaging Hank During The Entire Ride. Hank Was Teasing Deimos A Lot About The Kiss, And How Deimos Reacted When It Was First Brought Up. Deimos Yelled-Texted At Hank Again, Causing The Man In The Red Goggles To Laugh Again. Dee Put His Tablet Away Once They Got To The Base. Of Course, None Other Than Hank Himself Was There To Greet Them And Welcome Them Back In.

They Passed The Savior, Jebus, Who Was Reading A Book, Supposedly A Bible Or Something He Could Find Lying Around. He Was Sitting At A Table With Red Wine In A Fancy Glass And Biscuits On A Plate. Deimos Wondered If Hank Told Him About It, Since He Received A Teasing Look. Sanford Just Thought Nothing Of It, And Wanted To See If Tricky Had Actually Changed Since Their Last Encounter With Him.

Once They Approached Tricky's Room, Or Area (Whatever You Would Call It), They Saw Signs Like 'Caution: Beware The Clown', And 'Do Not Enter Unless You Are Hank'. They Were Also Greeted By The Sound Of Someone Eating Something Viciously.

Looking From The Glass Window On The Wall, They Saw The Clown Filling His Face With All Different Kinds Of Food. He Stopped To Grab A Drink, But Got Distracted By Seeing Hank With Sanford And Deimos. Tricky Immediately Ran To The Glass And Smacked His Face Against It, Causing Ford And Dee To Jump Back.

Tricky Smiled In Delight After Seeing Deimos And Sanford For The First Time In A Long While. He Waved Through The Glass, Then Rushed To The Speaker. The Faint Sound Of Someone Yelling 'HAAANNK!' And 'VALID. FRIENDS' Could Be Heard Through The Speaker. The Door Suddenly Opened Slowly, The Smell Of All Kinds Of Foods Plus Blood Pouring Out Of The Opening And The Cracks. The Clown Immediately Jumped Out Of The Room, Startling The Trio.

Tricky: "SANFORD! HANK! DEIMOS! FRIENDS! VALID. YES."

Hank Actually Smiled Upon Tricky's Entrance, He Patted The Clown's Head Twice And Let The Other 2 Do The Same Thing After. They Talked About Everything That Happened, And Caught Up With Each Other. Jebus Entered The Room Half Way Through The Conversation And Joined In. They Chatted For Hours, Tricky Was The One To Point Out The Time To Everyone. Sanford Said That He And Deimos Had To Leave, As It Was Late (11:12 PM).

They Said Their Goodbyes Before Ford And Dee Headed Out. They Stayed Silent In The Car, Just Thinking About How Much The Others Have Changed. Tricky, Who Has Become More Friendly And Takes Baths. Hank, Who Is More Calm And 'Married To A Blender'. And Jebus, Who Has More Control And Is Starting To Learn Dad Jokes.

Deimos: "I Had Fun Chatting With Them After A While. I Just Wish Candice Was There With Us, I Miss Her."

Sanford: "...We Didn't Know A Candice."

Deimos, Grinning: "I Know Candice. I've Known Her For A While Now."

Sanford, Not Falling For It: "Good For You. Is She Nice?"

Deimos: "....Y-Yeah…...Although Her House Really Smells Like Updog. It's A Problem."

Sanford: "......Really?"

Deimos, Pushing The Joke: "Yes, Especially The Kitchen. It Really Reeks Of Updog. It's Disgusting, Bleck"

Sanford, Sighing And Smiling: "What Is Updog?"

Deimos, Giggling Like A Child: "Nahat Much Wh-"

Deimos Couldn't Finish His Sentence Because He Was Laughing. Sanford Just Snorted And Smiled, He Always Knew How He Could Get His Boyfriend Lost In Laughter. Even If A Joke Wasn't Really That Funny, Deimos Could Be Laughing For An Hour. He Absolutely Loves Jokes Of All Kinds And It Doesn't Matter Who Tells Them. By The Time They Arrived Home, Deimos Was Still Slightly Giggling And Wiping A Tear From His Eye.

Sanford Carried Deimos Into The House, As The Man In The Visor Finished His Giggling Fit. Ford Set His Boyfriend Onto The Couch And Started Getting Ready For Bed. He Left Dee Some Comfy Clothes To Slip Into For Bed. About A Couple Minutes Later They Both Were On The Couch In Pajamas (Or Just Clothes They Never Wear To Work).

Deimos: "Why Weren’t You Laughing At The Joke, Sanford?"

Sanford: "The Joke Wasn't That Funny, Deimos. You've Heard It Over One Hundred Times Already."

Deimos, Giggling Again: "But..It's Funny."

Sanford, Trying Not To Smile: "It-It's Really Not."

Deimos, Now Full On Laughing: "I- It Was Funny When Hank Fell For The Candice Joke." *He Smacked His Side While He Laughed* "It Hurt Like Hell, But It Was Worth It!"

Sanford, Smiling But Trying Hard Not To Laugh: "Oh Right I Forgot About That."

Sanford Then Let Deimos Cuddle Against Him As He Laughed Again. He Only Laughed Harder When Sanford Yelled, 'It's Not That Funny!'. Eventually, Ford Was Laughing As Well With His Boyfriend. They Laughed Until They Eventually Fell Asleep. Today Was A Good Day For Both Of Them, And They Were Happy They Could Spend It Together, Like Old Times.

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jos-corner-of-the-world · 3 years

Text

Last House on the Left {35}

{thirty four}

The next morning you woke up when you heard Minghao slamming cupboards in the kitchen.

"What the fuck? Would you be quiet?" You yelled out at him.

"I'm going to be late." He yelled back. You couldn't help but laugh.

"It's not funny! Jun's salty ass really might fire me this time."

You threw your blankets off before walking into the kitchen.

"Maybe don't snooze your alarm 8 times."

"Maybe don't convince me to watch all three John wick movies in one night!"

"Oh yeah, convince you. All I said was 'hey let's watch the third one too' and you fucking said yes! Real conniving of me. Just get your stuff and go. I'll be right behind you with coffee and food."

"Thanks, bye." Minghao said, running out the door.

You were walking around the grocery store when Mei called you later that day.

"You'll never believe what your son did today." You said as soon as you picked up

"Well hello to you too dear. What'd my boy do today?"

"Woke up late and then started banging on kitchen cabinets until I woke up because he knew if I was up I'd get his food and coffee and he wouldn't be late!"

“That...sounds exactly like something he would do.” Mei laughed.

“He’s so frustrating and irritating I swear to god.” you told her.

"Yes but you handle it so well" Mei told you, laughing on the other line.

"Some days are easier than others.Also, sorry for the sudden influx of shit talking about your son. What's up?" You asked realizing that she called you first.

"Not much. I was just checking on you, see how you're feeling."

"You've been gone less than 24 hours" you reminded her.

"And? I've been worried since I stepped out of the house. I know you're internalizing and you're worried. I just...want you to be happy."

"I actually am not internalizing as much as you think. While I didn't open up about Shownu, I did talk to Minghao about some of the stuff you and I have been discussing."

"That's a start dear. I will always be here for you, but Minghao is closer to you and will always be on your side in these struggles against yourself. He may be a shithead at times, but he is a person you won't regret having in your corner."

"I know, it's just hard. But I'm getting there. More than that, I want to get there. I've been thinking a lot and I know I can open myself up to the guys, I just have to do it."

"Speaking of guys. Have you thought of what you were going to say to Shownu yet?" Mei asked.

"Yes? Ugh, I don't know. I'm an awkward bean and don't know how to have those conversations." You admitted.

"Sweetie, you have the conversation with him that you'd have with anyone else. Before anything he's a friend and you talk to him like such."

"Why is it when you say it... it's easy. But when I think about it I feel like I'm standing in front of a crowd naked."

"While I don't recommend having the conversation sans clothes, if that'll help then maybe you should."

"What the hell Mei!"

You went home that afternoon and after putting groceries away, text Shownu.

You knew if you called him, you'd avoid hanging out if he asked.

You sent a simple text asking if he was free and then put your phone face down.

"Maybe if I can't see it, I won't have to respond." You told yourself.

However, Shownu responded immediately. Your phone pinging loudly in the quiet room.

"Damn...forgot about the sound." You said, picking your phone up lightly

Shownu was free, and invited you to stop by anytime.

Minghao chose that time to walk in the door.

"Hey, Ming?" You asked as soon as he was in the house.

"What's up?" He asked, setting his keys down on the table.

"Do you think five minutes is enough time to have decided to flee the country and change your name?"

"I mean that's a tough question." Minghao responded. "Is this a spontaneous decision or one that's been thought out and planned thoroughly?"

"Spontaneous?"

"Then obviously fucking not."

"Well damn, you didn't have to come at my throat like that."

"What are you fleeing the country for?" Minghao asked.

"An awkward conversation about an awkward situation with an awkward me." You whined.

"That's...a lot of information while not saying a lot. Anything I can help with?"

"While I appreciate that...I think I need to have the conversation with them first and then cry about it later." You told him.

"Cry? Is it bad?" Minghao asked, worried about your words.

"No Minghao, it's fucking awkward!"

"I officially never want to hear that word again."

You said goodbye to Minghao later, telling him not to wait up for you. You'd either have a good conversation that could take a while, or you'd embarrass yourself and drink yourself stupid. Either were viable options at this point.

You spent the drive to shownu's thinking about the best route to take when bringing up the conversation. Did you do it as an indirect conversation? Or just bluntly come out and say it?

By the time you were knocking on his apartment door, the option of fleeing seemed more and more interesting.

As soon as he opened the door, and you opened your mouth, you really were ready for the world to swallow you whole.

"So…like… You don't want to be my boyfriend huh?"

As you sat on the couch in the living room, you were trying to think of how to make things less awkward.

“Sorry I didn't mean to just throw that out there the second I saw your face.” you admitted, unable to look at him.

“That's okay I'm just a little confused is all.” Shownu said lightly.

“Of all the things I rehearsed to say, I can promise you that exact sentence had never crossed my mind.:

“Rehearsed to say? We can just have a conversation, if you're comfortable with it that is.” Shownu said, noticing how uncomfortable you seemed to be.

“I was just really confused, still am I guess. We've been out together a couple times and I wasn't really sure where we stood since neither of us have ever really acknowledged it.”

“In my opinion, that's a sign right there.” Shownu responded.

“Sign of what?” you asked, not really sure what Shownu had meant.

“That a relationship isn't really in the cards for us.”

“Oh, right.” you said, not sure how else to respond to that.

“Are you disappointed by me saying that?” Shownu asked.

You looked up at him, surprised.

“Honestly, no.” you said. You felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders by your admission.

“I like hanging out with you and listening to you run your mouth, but...I just...never started developing feelings.”

“I like hanging out with you too, it’s too quiet for my liking sometimes, but it’s still fun. Should...should we give it more time? I mean it’s only been a few dates.” You said. As soon as the words were out of your mouth you wanted to slap yourself.

“No. I don’t think we should. I agree with you, that maybe it’s not been enough time. However, I just don’t see things progressing that way. Also, I can just tell you’re not really into the idea of dating.”

That was the most surprising thing Shownu had said since the start of the conversation.

“What? I’m definitely into the idea of dating.” you said, unsure of his reasoning.

“Okay, maybe you’re right. But you’re not into the idea of dating me. I think you’re really fun to hang out with, I can see why Jooheon and Kihyun enjoy your company so much, but I think..for the both of us, that’s all there is. It’s just not going to work out any other way.”

Instead of feeling more clarity as the conversation went on, you were left feeling more confused by it.

“I guess I don’t really follow.” you admitted.

“I could tell from the first date that your head wasn’t really in the moment. And that’s okay. I got to meet you and start to get to know you. While that’s the basis of dating, it’s also the starting point for friendships. I would really like to continue being your friend.”

“I would like that too. Why do I feel so weirdly hurt right now?” You asked him. This is how you knew the conversation should go, but your heart felt heavy in that moment.

“I’m not sure, but I feel it too. I think it’s probably the feeling of being rejected. Which is weird because we didn’t really reject each other. Just...agreed to leave it as it is.”

“Can I ask you a question?” you asked him, suddenly remembering Seokmin’s words from New Years Eve.

“Sure.”

“Am I exhausting?”

“Yes. But also no. You seem exhausting to me but that’s because up til recently my life has been relatively quiet and slow paced. Then I met Kihyun and then you and Jooheon. But that’s not a negative thing by any means. You seem to thrive in chaos and like it when things are fast paced. That’s a good trait to have because you don’t get overwhelmed as fast as other people do. You know where you thrive best?” Shownu asked.

You looked up at him, waiting for him to answer. You were too lost in thought to voice any words right now.

“You thrive best when you’re at home.”

{thirty six}

#minghao #Shownu #seventeen #svt #fic #series #au #imagine #scenario #last house #lhotl #35 #jos corner of the world

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hisunshiine · 3 years

Text

—trade secrets |myg|

⟢ pairing: CEO!Yoongi x Assistant!Reader

⟢ word count: 3.4k

⟢ genre + warnings: coworkers to lovers au || nsfw 18+ some angast, smut, & fluff: 𝘴𝘮𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧™️; explicit sex: kissing, oral f. receiving, fingering, spanking, unprotected vaginal penetration, creampie, semi-public sex (office, bathroom)

⟢ summary: you’ve been pining over your boss forever, but when you and he finally cross that line, it’s not exactly all hearts and rainbows.

⟢ authors note: originally posted to twitter, i hope you enjoy!

Sat at your desk, you shuffled the papers neatly in order to staple them at the top left hand corner. The finished report was for the 2:30 PM meeting, and your boss would be needing it by 1 PM to review it for his presentation. Out of all of the assistants for the department, he trusted you the most. After several years of working for the company, you were basically Min Yoongi’s personal assistant, despite there being 3 of you to serve the 3 project managers.

This had been a foreign concept when you had first joined the company, used to being assigned to a specific manager at your old job, but you enjoyed this set up so much more. It allowed you to help each other handle all of the tasks as a group, being more efficient. It also helped with having days off, without it impacting work since there were still 2 assistants who knew what was going on no matter what projects were being handled. But for Min Yoongi, you were his favorite.

Of course, out of the other 2 project managers, Park Jimin and Jung Hoseok, you felt like Yoongi was your favorite too. Ever since starting, you had just gravitated towards him. He was the complete opposite of his coworkers, who were both loud and rambunctious. This didn’t mean Yoongi didn’t also get loud, on the contrary, he could definitely raise his voice, but he was typically calm and quiet, often sitting back and listening before speaking.

You on the other hand, were definitely more like Jimin and Hoseok. You supposed this was why you liked Yoongi so much. He balanced out your wild nature, the calming flower to settle your fluttering butterfly wings on and just… rest. Not that he knew any of this. Yoongi was blind to the way that you pined after him.

“Y/N, do you have that report ready?” Yoongi’s voice, a honeyed, low sound reverberated in the space above your head, and you looked up, startled. So caught up in the daydream that always took over when you were fresh from the carbload of lunch, you felt yourself heat up as the star of the very daydream held his calloused hand out to you.

“Oh, y-yes, Yoongi-ssi, right here.”

You gathered up the report you had recently stapled and placed it in his waiting hand as he cleared his throat, nimble fingers straightening his tie. How one subtle movement could send your body into overdrive made no sense to you, but his eye contact conveyed so much more than just a look. It filled you with a heat that had nothing to do with the summer temperatures.

“Thank you… I’ll get you when it’s time for the meeting.” His free hand lightly brushed your forearm, lingering, leaving a burning sensation in its wake. You wanted nothing more than to be wrapped in his touch, a fire spreading across your body.

The meeting went off without a hitch, as you knew it would, and slowly you packed up the conference room of the equipment that had been used for the presentation. As the assistant to the project managers, you were privy to all the plans, and knew that you would be working non-stop the next few weeks to help get everything done for the managers. Their project was approved by their CEO, and you knew starting tomorrow, it would be all engines go.

Pushing the cart with the projector and company laptop back out into the hallway, you watched as the managers walked off ahead of you, headed to their separate offices—located next to each other—as you wheeled the tech cart back to the IT wing.

“Thank you so much Jungkook!” You smiled at your best friend of 8 years, who had helped you and one of the other assistants, set up the presentation slides on the new system Jimin had wanted to utilize. A tall, muscular nerd, (who also happened to be dating the other said assistant) your best friend pushed his glasses a little higher up his nose as he took the cart from you.

“Not a problem, babe. Hey.. what did Yoongi think of your skirt?” He whispered, winking at you.

“He didn’t even bat an eye. It’s pointless, Kook. He’s never gonna notice me.” You sigh, bending at the waist to lean against his desk. Your elbows braced your weight as you wiggled your hips.

“Well maybe if you did this little dance for him, he would.”

You laugh.

“No way, so I can get sent to HR for sexual harassment training? Please. That retraining video is a snooze fest.” You continue swaying side to side, more so to stretch out the kink in your lower back from sitting so long working on the presentation than anything, when Jungkook’s eyes grow impossibly bigger. He said nothing though; you assumed he’s reacting to your words about the harassment video. That is, until a voice cut through the silence.

“Y/N, u-uhm.. When you’re done with IT, can you—actually, I can, uhm, I can handle it myself.”

You had just managed to take in the sight of a shocked Min Yoongi, eyes focused on your ass as you put it on display, before he was whirling from the room, his pale porcelain skin a blotchy red.

Jungkook’s laughter cut through the embarrassed silence as you stand up, hands covering your face as you cringe internally at what had just happened. Leaving Jungkook’s office a few minutes later, you couldn’t help but smile a little bit through the mortification at the way Yoongi stuttered as he stared at your ass.

“Y/N, can you email me over the notes from the meeting yesterday?”

Yoongi paused on his way out of the office at your desk, several days after the mishap in Jungkook’s IT department. He hadn’t appeared to be affected when you had seen him back on your side of the building not even 10 minutes after the incident, and had seemed rather nonplussed once you had made it back to your desk and began sorting through your tasks. Now that several days had passed, you had also gone back to acting normal. If normal consisted of the secret pining over your boss and complaining to your best friend and his girlfriend at happy hour that yet again another ploy to catch Yoongi’s eye had failed.

“I’ll have the info emailed over to you now.”

“Thanks; I’m headed out to grab lunch, do you want anything?”

You smiled at him, shaking your head no.

“I brought something to eat, but thank you Yoongi-ssi.”

Yoongi began to walk away towards the elevators when he stopped and turned to face you.

“Can you stay late tonight? We have our first deadline for the project and the other two girls can’t stay.”

You felt your heart—the very one in your chest that had just started to beat faster—slow it’s rate. He had asked the other girls first, and you felt disappointment at being a last minute ask. You were confused at first as to why the other girls couldn’t stay, until you remembered that there were only two of you today anyways; the third being Jungkook’s girlfriend, and they were gone on a “baecation” to Jeju Island for the weekend.

“No problem, boss. Um, actually, can I change my mind about lunch then? I can save this for dinner.”

He nodded and you texted him your order as he walked off.

Time seemed to be moving so slowly, but it was already close to 11 PM. The finishing touches on the first assignment were nearly completed, and if anyone were to walk into his office, they would be able to see that it indeed appeared as if work had been happening. Your lunch turned dinner had been eaten around 6, and Yoongi had ordered takeout around 9, of which empty containers now lay abandoned on surfaces, wooden chopsticks haphazardly positioned in them.

Papers were strewn along the mahogany desk, laid on the floor as well, and you were ready to be done with this task. Leaning over Yoongi’s shoulder, your eyes were narrow as you scanned the final document for mistakes. You braced yourself with your right forearm, left hand on the back of his computer chair.

This close to him, you could smell his cologne, a deep musk scent with hints of a sweet vanilla like essence. His hair, ruffled by his hands so many times, looked fucked out with sprouts sticking each way. Your eyes drifted to those hands, handling the mouse and resting on the keyboard, and you licked your lips slowly.

Everything about him was arousing you at this hour, and you wished that he would take notice of the way your blouse had appeared to unbutton more and more as time had crept by tonight. If he would just turn his head slightly to you... the way you were leaning had your breasts dangerously close to making an appearance. Your thoughts of how hot it would be for him to take you on this desk had your arousal leaking, your panties embarrassingly wet as they clung to your skin.

Letting out an intentionally soft sigh, you adjust your hand on the edge of his desk and form your lips to ask a random made up question, anything to get him to look at you, when he does exactly as you had hoped. His face, close to yours, turns to speak, but the words die in his throat as he takes you in.

“Yoongi?” Your voice is soft, and you end his name with a bite to your bottom lip, a movement that doesn’t go unnoticed by him. You take a deep breath, knowing how your chest must look from his angle, hoping that the rise and fall would push them forward just the right amount.

“You..” he clears his throat, eyes on your cleavage shamelessly, “—do you know what you do to me when you tease me like this?”

His eyes snap to yours, pulling a startled gasp from your throat and you stutter a response.

“T-Tease you? I—” Yoongi turned in his chair and his fingers gripped your waist as you stood abruptly.

“Yes.”

That one word was uttered with a growl before he pulled your lips to his. The kiss was sloppy, a mess of lips fervently moving as tongues sought out the taste of each other. You were on fire, his grip pulling you down onto his lap so that you straddled him. His length strained against his pants, the feel of it twitching in time to your moans against your core. You grinded against him as your lips traveled to his neck, and he tilted his head to give you better access.

“Do you know—fuck—just how badly you drive me crazy. These skirts, unbuttoned shirts, that fucking display in IT the other day..” his low voice panting out that you had successfully gotten to him. You pulled back, lips glossy and pupils dilated, taking in the red across his cheeks.

“That was an accident, I wasn’t trying to tease you then.”

“Just all the other times.” His eyes glinted.

“I..”

“If you wanted me to fuck you, you should’ve just asked.”

He leaned in again, arms wrapped around you as he connected your lips again. You knew you had to be messing up his pants, but neither of you seemed to care. He groaned, lifting you to stand.

“I need to be inside of you..” He flipped you, so you faced the desk and folded you at the waist. Chest to the desk, he lifted your skirt up. “I’m over you teasing me, babe. Your turn.”

Yoongi eyed your clothed core, taking note of the wetness that clung to it, running his index finger along your slit until he found your swollen nub. Pressing on it, he traced circles, causing you to squirm. He loved seeing you like this, finally, after all the wet dreams of you, he had you like this: a sopping mess on his desk, whining for more.

He kneels, fingers gripping the edge of your panties and in a swift motion he exposes you.

“Fuck, babe, I can’t wait to fill this cunt...”

You flinch as his warm tongue glides from clit to opening, tasting you, leaving you with an unsuspecting smack to your asscheek. You wiggle, more turned on then you imagined you could be and when he groans in appreciation, you clench, needy.

“Please Yoongi, p-please fuck me.”

You hear him stand and undo his pants, whine when he dips two fingers into you and begins to fuck you with them.

“Not what I want,” you complain like the brat you are, and he chuckles darkly.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be glad I prepped you.” He scissors his fingers, stretching you as your natural lubricant slickens his fingers. The sound of finger fucking would usually make you blush, but you’re too aroused by the naughtiness of it. Your boss, knuckle deep into your throbbing cunt, his handprint on your ass.

He spits, and you hear his left hand slide up and down his hardened shaft, the sound intertwined with the squelching between your legs.

“Fuck me, p-please,” you’re begging now, hands gripping the edge of the desk, and you push back into him when you feel the head of his cock line up with your opening.

“Patience, baby.” Yoongi dips just the tip in, shallow fucking you until you’re practically crying from the taunting stimulation.

“Yoongi, I swear to G—oh!”

Yoongi thrusts into you, and your walls suck him in, sliding him in until he bottoms out, his pelvis snug to your ass, and he groans loudly. His hands knead at your ass, pulling your cheeks apart so he can inch deeper, watching the way you wrap around him so nicely, like you were made to take his cock. He pulls out slowly before slamming his hips back into you, enjoying the way you mewl from his cock kissing your cervix.

It’s like Yoongi transforms into a feral animal, one stroke inside of you and he’s laying on your back, arms wrapping around you to clutch at your breasts as he pistons his hips, fucking into you with all of the strength his ex-basketball playing thighs carry. You feel him bite your back, your shirt softening the blow, but you clench regardless.

“D-Do that again, sweetheart, fuck that felt so good..”

You clench repeatedly, tightening your grip on him, and he feels so good inside of you, your toes are curling, loud exhalations with every thrust; you’re so close.

“Where, uh, where can I—I’m gonna—”

“Inside me, Yoongi, fuck, fill me up, please Daddy, I want to be full of you..”

He can feel your legs trembling, but Yoongi wants you to break first.

“Cum on my cock, baby.” Yoongi’s hand drops from your chest and it takes only a few figure eights of his finger on your cllit and you’re bursting, white behind your eyelids as you squeeze them shut. Your body tremors, euphoric sensations traveling to every inch of your body as your muscles spaz, and he’s filling you, his thick seed spurting out and overflowing from your swollen core, running down both of your thighs.

You and Yoongi ended up back at his place that night, fucking until Saturday afternoon. Sunday night, you checked your phone and saw a text from Yoongi.

[Yoongi-ssi]

Y/N, please don’t think I didn’t enjoy myself… but it can’t happen again. I’m sorry.

You sat there, staring at your phone rereading the message over and over. He was… rejecting you? You hadn’t even voiced to him your feelings. It wasn’t just sexual attraction to him, but after these years with him, you couldn’t help but to have fallen for him. And now that you’d had him, you were head over heels in love with him, all of him. But clearly he didn’t feel the same.

Monday at work, you were quiet, so unlike your usual self. Listening to Jungkook’s girlfriend talk about their trip to Jeju Island, you felt yourself ruminating on the text Yoongi had sent you. Like you had been all night.

“Y/N, is everything okay?”

You turn quickly, eyes meeting the worried look of your coworker, nodding as you schooled your facial expressions into something more neutral.

“Yea, I just have a migraine. I’m gonna go talk to Yoongi, see if I can go home early.”

You made your way to Yoongi’s office. Knocking gently, his quiet voice beckoned you into the room.

“Hey, um… I think I need to go home early.”

Yoongi, who had his eyes trained on the computer monitor, looked up at you abruptly.

“Are you.. Is everything okay?” his voice was tinged with concern.

“I just.. I think I need a few days off… away from here.” Away from you.

“Look, Y/N..” Yoongi stood up, coming over to you. He stood there, quiet, eyes taking you in. “Fuck.”

Yoongi kissed you, and you melted into his hold. His hands grasped your forearms, pulling you closer in to him.

‘This can’t happen again’, happened again. And again, and again.

Secret sex with your boss every so often became an almost everyday occurrence, in his office, in his car, in the morning before work when you woke up in his bed, and now, currently pushed up against the wall of the stall in the men’s bathroom.

Yoongi had your legs around his waist, fucking his cock up into you, one hand over your mouth to stifle the sounds escaping your mouth. He had pulled you in here after the last meeting for the project, a celebratory fuck to commence the end of this very time consuming project. Yoongi walked you towards the stall, wanting to brace you against something so he could chase his high.

As you came, velvety walls pulsing as you rode out your high, the door to the men’s room swung open, and Yoongi disappeared into the stall just in time. He turned and sat on the lid of the toilet, still holding you tightly to him. Shuddering, the orgasm wracked your body as you could hear two guys talking faintly through the hazy post climax glow.

“God, she’s so hot, maybe I’ll ask her out..” a voice declared, the sound of pissing filling the room.

“Y/N would never date you,” the other voice laughed, “she’s way out of your league.” Yoongi’s arms tightened imperceptibly around you as you rested your head on his shoulder. He grips your thighs and continues to thrust into you, close to erupting.

“You know that SooHyun is thinking of asking her out. He’s way more her type than you are.” The sound of zippers quickly sounded before the rush of water as the two men washed their hands.

“Fuck, he totally has a better chance than me. Damn, he’s gonna be clapping her cheeks in no time. Guess I’ll stick to jerking it to pics of her from the Christmas party last year.” The door shut and Yoongi sped up his movements until he came, cock emptying his sticky cum inside of you.

You melt your lips with his, lazily kissing him as you settled from your orgasm.

“You and Soohyun hyung?” Yoongi asked, a twinge of jealousy coming through in his moment of weakness.

“Hmm, I heard some of the girls saying he was thinking of asking me on a date.” You nuzzled into his neck, kissing soft pecks as he softened inside of you.

“I don’t want you to go.” His voice was barely a whisper, a gravely plea.

You sat up, facing him with a serious look on your face.

“I mean, is there something holding me back? A reason to say no?”

“Do you, uh, do you want there to be?”

His deep Americano eyes meet yours, and you nod, not trusting yourself to speak.

“Then let me be the reason. Go out with me.”

You smile softly threading your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and causing him to shiver.

“Okay.”

You walk back to your office area, fingers intertwined with Yoongi’s, no longer a secret between the two of you as the office gawks at their very quiet and calm boss with the office babe, Soohyun looking a little put out that you were no longer available.

#hisunshiine #yoongi #suga #yoongles #meowmeow #hisunshiinewritings #hisunshiine writing #min yoongi #yoongi smut #bts fic #bts au #suga smut #min yoongi smut #bts story #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #min yoongi ceo #yoongi ceo

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samanthadalton · 4 years

Text

Star crossed lovers (au) part 2

pairings: poppy x mc (bea)

warnings: throughout this fic there will be mentions of substance abuse, homophobia, sexual abuse, violence, NSFW, mentions of abandonment, depression and death including suicide

reader discretion is advised

(i apologise for any spelling/grammatical mistakes, i’ll fix them later)

taglist: @somewillwin @save-me-the-last-dance @baexpoppy @cloud9in @stanzoeywade @ognenniyvolk @thepotatobleh @crazzyplays @rxssians (i’m pretty sure this is my taglist, if you wanna be tagged in future posts just reply or message me 😊)

word count: 6.2k

read part 1 here:

Part 2: First day jitters

BEEP BEEP BEEP

Bea groans and puts her alarm on snooze momentarily silencing the deafening noise. After finding difficulty in falling asleep on time, the brunette found herself feeling zombified this morning. With great difficulty she forces herself to sit up and reaches over to her dresser to check her phone.

A snapchat from Poppy,

a miss call from AJ

And 5 unread texts from Zoey

She opens the snapchat from Poppy who had sent a selfie of her with an adorable bedhead, lips slightly puckered, captioning the picture, ‘good morning babe 💋I love you’. Bea decided to send a selfie back, hands raised in a peace sign captioning her post, ‘I love you too, see you at school ❤️’. She decides to give AJ a quick text since he called her at 4:34am and Bea is worried he might’ve gotten into some trouble overnight.

AJ Baxter, one of the few friends Bea has at Belvoire. He’s younger, a sophomore now, but has a heart of gold. His family is more middle class but his father is good friends with the superintendent which means his place in Belvoire is secured, he could practically get away with anything without risk of suspension. He hangs out with Bea and her friends who live in the south, but recently he’s gotten caught up in a bad crowd, a gang called ‘Southside nation’ who causes nothing but trouble. Bea’s taken it upon herself to look out for him and make sure he doesn’t do anything illegal because he’s a good kid, just a little lost.

She then decided to check her texts from Zoey who just wants to wish her luck at her fancy school and to let her know if any preppy rich kid tries to bully her to call Zoey who would beat their ass. Zoey was one of Bea’s best friends, they had met when Bea moved into her neighbourhood after leaving the northside of Greensburg, and she practically taught Bea how to survive in the south. She often discloses her opinion about Bea and Poppy’s relationship, warning Bea that it will only end up with her getting her heart broken. Bea tends to ignore Zoey’s criticisms, and anyone else’s really, no one could understand their relationship, Bea and Poppy were soulmates, or at least that’s how they saw each other. Bea usually retorts to Zoey’s criticisms arguing that no matter what life threw at them she and Poppy were destined to be together and no one could ever ruin that.

After a few more moments of scrolling through her phone, she forces herself to get up and moves over to the other side of the room to wake up her little sister.

“Hey sleepy head, you gotta get up” Bea gently shakes the younger girl who in response groans loudly and pulls the covers over her head.

“Go awayyyyy” her voice rasps, as she’s evidently still in sleepy mode.

Bea grins and decides to jump on her sister’s bed and shake her awake, earning a hard shove from her Aria who sits up on her bed rubbing her red eyes, “Bea whatthehell, what’s wrong with you”, for a 11 year old she sure as hell had a lot of attitude, a trait she definitely acquired from her mother.

“Sorry kiddo” she leaps off the bed and turns back to look at her sister, “I want you ready for school in 40 minutes, that means you’ve brushed your teeth, brushed your hair, wearing your school clothes and eaten breakfast, all in that order okay?”

Aria just drags her hands down her face and moans, “okayyyy, relax Bea, let me at least fully wake up”.

Bea smiles and stalks towards the bathroom and turns on the tap blasting the cold water. She cups her hand and splashes the water all over her face, gasping as if she had been holding her breath for hours. Well, that definitely woke her up.

After brushing her teeth and going through the steps of her basic skincare routine Poppy practically forced upon her, she advances to the living room and sees that her mother is still in the same place she left her last night. She takes a minute to analyse her mother’s facial features, a few grey hairs peaks out of her hair, threatening to showcase her ageing, her slightly creased forehead, and the small wrinkles which edged on the corners of her eyes. Her nose was similar to Aria’s, a petite buttoned up nose, except she had a silver nose ring. Her lips were thin and wide, red lipstick smeared on her chin a little and all Bea could do was frown. Her mother used to be so beautiful, she remembers the time she stumbled across a photo album in which Bea’s mother had documented almost everything in her life, she used to be so full of life, so happy but now, she was different. She hated her life, ever since her husband left her she resorted to alcohol and drugs, the only way she knew how to numb the pain. It killed Bea to see her mother destroy herself piece by piece, she often questioned to herself why she or Aria were never enough for her to want to live. But Bea would never say anything out loud, not wanting to upset her mother or sister or the more likely answer, she was afraid of the truth.

Bea shakes herself out of her thoughts and moves towards the kitchen which is connected to the living room. She decides to make scrambled eggs for breakfast as she definitely needs the protein and it was pretty easy to cook. A few minutes later, Aria emerges from her bedroom, dressed in her school clothes, Bea begins to assess the girls outfit from head to toe, disproving the slightly cropped t-shirt Aria decided to wear and forcing her to change into something more appropriate for school.

“No, turn around and change your top now,” her tone commanding with a hint of discontent.

“It’s just a t-shirt, why are you making a big deal out of it, god” she retorted as she walks back to the room and moments later she walks into the room wearing an oversized hoodie. “There, happy?”

“I’m practically jumping for joy, A, now hurry up and eat, the bus will be here soon” Bea moves towards the stools while Aria pours herself a bowl of cereal. Behind them they hear a series of moans and groans, guess their mother is finally awake.

“Could you girls make any more noise, goddamn” she clutches her head in agony and begins rubbing the temples of her forehead with her fingertips.

“We’re eating breakfast, maybe if you managed to make it to your bedroom we wouldn’t have woken you up,” Bea quips, turning back to focus on eating her breakfast while her mother just glares at the back of her head and rolls her eyes.

“I’m your mother, don’t be a bitch with me especially when I’ve just woken up” she reaches over to the table and takes a huge swig of the vodka on the table while Bea silently berates herself for forgetting to throw the drink away. “Anyways where were you yesterday, you didn’t leave any money for dinner so I had to pay for a pizza”

“I saw” Bea says unaffected, she’s used to her mom’s bitchiness and attitude.

“Don’t tell me you were with richie rich’, she downs the rest of the drink and slams the empty bottle on the table.

That agitates Bea and grabs her attention, she shifts in her seat to glower at her mother, “Don’t call her that”

“Looks like I hit a sore spot” her mother waves her hands dismissing Bea’s anger, “next time be here for dinner or leave some money because I don’t have enough money to be worrying about feeding that one”, she nods her head towards Aria.

Bea clenches her fist and takes a deep breath, ‘Aria go get your school bag”, Aria’s about to respond when Bea just glares at her expecting her to follow through, Aria reluctantly gets up from her seat leaving her almost empty bowl of cereal on the counter. Bea quickly gets up and stomps towards Isabella, her voice is low and sharp, “Do you have to speak about your daughter like that when she’s around? I don’t give a shit about a $13 pizza, she’s your kid, she comes first no matter how much you despise her, she’s not to blame for your own mistakes”. Without waiting for a response she goes towards the bedroom and finds Aria lurking in the hallway looking dejected.

“She hates me doesn’t she?”

Bea sighs, the relationship between her mother and Aria has always been so strained, her mother viewing Aria more as a burden and a physical embodiment of her biggest mistake in life. One of Bea’s biggest worries was what would happen once she moved to New York for college, she’s the only thing that is keeping the peace in the house but once she leaves she’s apprehensive about how her sister would fare around their mother.

“She could never hate you, you’re her daughter, mom’s just….” she struggles to find the words, “mom’s just sad, she just doesn’t know how to properly control her emotions, but don’t worry you always have me here”, she feels guilty as she says the words because her mind drifts to college and New York but she musters a smile and hugs her sister, “now come on I’ll walk you to the bus stop just let me grab my bag”.

After grabbing her bag, she quickly goes to the kitchen to put the dirty dishes in the sink, making a mental note of remembering to wash them when she gets home from work, since she knew her mother nor Aria would. She looks over to the living room to find the sofa empty and the door of her mother’s room, which was connected to the living room, slightly ajar, guess she’s gone back to doing nothing productive..again.

After walking her sister to the bus stop, Bea insists on waiting with her to make sure she gets to school on time because she cannot afford having the principal call home about Aria being late, not if she wanted to piss her mom off more. Bea leaves Aria as soon as the bus arrives, running back home to get her motorbike after looking at the clock on her phone and realising school begins in 30 minutes, “crap”. As soon as she makes it to her bike, she practically throws on her helmet and drives as rapidly as she can. The motorbike was a present from Poppy who had bought it from one of Bea’s co-workers at the diner at the beginning of the summer. Bea, at first, was apprehensive about the gift, she usually disdained Poppy for spending a lot of money on her but once she got on her new bike it was her second favourite thing in the world, the first being Poppy of course. Poppy secretly loved riding on her bike because it gave her the excuse to feel Bea’s abs (not that she needed one) but also because of the ephemeral ecstasy she would feel at every ride. It was a little taste of the freedom she so badly craved.

The brunette is almost sweating at every red light because it means that she has to drive even faster and she did not want to be late on the first day back. Bea’s plan for senior year is to draw the least amount of attention to herself as she can, and coming late to homeroom is just basically like putting a huge kick me sign on her back.

As soon as she parks her bike in the school’s parking lot she looks down at her phone, ‘7 minutes to spare that must be some new record’ she thinks to herself. She looks around at Belvoire, the school’s pristine building hasn’t gotten any less intimidating over the summer. She hears a bunch of shrill voices booming behind her and one of them in particular was almost like a banshee, the high pitched voice ringing in her ears which could only mean one person, Chloe St James.

Chloe was one of Poppy’s best friends and one of Bea’s worst enemies. She was captain of the volleyball team which meant that she practically owned Bea on the court during practice but she was also incredibly irritating and very stupid. Once in class, her maths teacher asked Chloe what pi is, and she replied with “I don’t eat foods with a high fat content”. Everyone laughed at her until she cut them all off with a silent but deadly look. No one really messes with Chloe because she is secretly a very aggressive person which is exemplified by her plays on the volleyball court, Bea hated to admit it but Chloe was their best player. However, Chloe is the epitome of a classic dumb blonde rich girl who has to depend on her money and looks to get her somewhere in life, she practically has half of the football team worshipping her at her feet. Bea could never really understand why but Chloe has had it out for her since she’s come to Belvoire, maybe it was a classist thing but in the last year especially, Chloe’s antics became an everyday chore for Bea, who was getting sick of the constant harassment. It’s almost as if she swore to make Bea’s life a living hell.

“Omg look who it is”,Bea rolls her eyes so hard they could get stuck in the back of her head, she turns to face the dumb blonde, “hey strip tease, how was your summer in the slums?”

Bea balls her hands into a tight fist, ‘god this bitch is annoying’ she thought. “Is it true you whored yourself out so you could get that bike of yours?... Like mother like daughter I guess?” She giggles a little, triggering the girls around her, whose names Bea could never remember, to start laughing along with her.

“Do you know what Chloe?” Bea takes a step forward a scowl etching on her face, “You’re all talk, I guarantee I’ll be able to take you”, Bea lowers her voice so only the blonde can hear what she’s saying, “You know I grew up in the South which means I was taught how to fight, so unless you want me to mess up that pretty face of yours back off.” Bea thought she was threatening enough for the dumb blonde to recede but her threats only aggravated Chloe more.

“Listen up here you little tramp,” Chloe’s eyes were shooting daggers at Bea, even though she felt a tiny bit daunted by Chloe’s cold demeanor, Bea stood her ground when suddenly she could see Poppy in her peripheral vision sauntering up to the group and decided not to engage with Chloe since she promised Poppy she would be good. Before Chloe could obliterate Bea using her words, Bea holds up her middle finger at the blonde and counters, “go fuck yourself Chloe”.

Chloe’s eyes flash with anger and just as she’s about to retort Poppy lays a hand on her shoulder and greets the girl with a squeal and Chloe delivers a bone crushing hug. Poppy doesn’t bother to spare a glance at Bea which means they’re back in the real world.

After having the entire summer to themselves, riding around Greensburg, going to parties in the south, stealing moments in each other's rooms and going on secret weekend long trips to New York, being two teenagers completely in love, it was now a closed chapter. Now, the girls were in two different worlds, Bea took a quick second to appreciate Poppy’s outfit, she wore the cute pink bomber jacket Bea loved so much and her legs looked so long in her jeans, Poppy wore that specific outfit to catch Bea’s attention, but it was doing a lot more than that. Bea just wanted to reach out and kiss her so bad, the gloss on Poppy’s lips were shining so bright, almost as if she wanted to tease Bea, knowing she could only stare and not touch.

“Come on Chlo, we’re gonna be late,” she drags the blonde away and as she breezes past Bea she spares a quick glance, their eyes locked for a brief moment, Poppy’s gaze softens for a second, her big brown eyes bore into Bea’s in the most tender way. If only the students at Belvoire, were less self absorbent and paid attention to the girls instead of themselves, they would’ve already felt the sexual tension just through the intense stares. After all the eyes are the windows to the soul.

Bea takes a second to breathe, leaning on her bike, she knew today was going to be a long day. After hearing the warning bells she grabs her bag and practically runs the last 50 feet to homeroom and is grateful to see an empty seat at the back of the classroom. She slips in as their homeroom teacher, Mr Jennings quietens the class for the morning announcements, and as all the students direct their attention to the tv in the corner of the room, Poppy’s angelic face brightens up the screen with her adorable smile while she stacks the papers in her hands and turns to look at her co-anchor Carter Jackson.

Carter Jackson, he’s devilishly handsome and the school’s golden boy. Captain of the football team, on track to being the school’s valedictorian, prevailing against the stereotypes of jocks all being dimwits, his resume is impeccable, any college would be lucky to have him. Bea always felt a pang of jealousy whenever she saw Carter within the same breathing space as Poppy since it was obvious he had the biggest crush on her. The whole school is already expecting for them to date since traditionally in movies and books the football captain and head cheerleader always get together. There were already existing rumours that they were secretly dating or they’ve had sex and many others which made Bea envious. Bea was never the jealous type but subconsciously the thoughts of her not being good enough for Poppy would regularly infiltrate her mind. Poppy usually had to subside Bea’s fears whenever she felt like Bea was worried about Carter, promising her that she would never actually be into him but Carter is a gentleman and is practically harmless.

‘Look at this stupid goofy smile and his stupid awesome hair’ Bea clenched her fists so hard her nails were digging into her palms which are definitely going to leave some marks. The announcements went on about the new school year and something about the sports teams and school spirit but Bea’s blood begins to boil when Carter makes a dumb joke earning playful slap on his arm from Poppy. She knows she can trust Poppy around him, it’s just Carter she couldn’t trust. He would always openly flirt with Poppy who would just give a little laugh or change the subject or sometimes indulge in his flirtations, just enough to throw him and the rest of her friends off from the truth.

After the morning announcements Mr Jennings begins talking about the importance of senior year and how the students would have to start thinking about college and their futures. Bea has her whole future planned out with Poppy, get into Columbia, live off campus with her and eventually Poppy would tell her father about them and he will have no other choice but to accept them and if not then Poppy could take out some loans and eventually use the Min Sinclair name to build herself a brand. Bea wants to go into law, first into corporate, so her and Poppy can work together, so when Poppy takes over her father’s duties as the official CEO of the Min Sinclair industries, Bea would work the legal angle until she’s made a name for herself. If Poppy’s father wouldn’t pass the companies down to Poppy then she’ll go straight to being a general practice lawyer. Then she’ll open her own law firm to help those in need, money won’t be an issue for clients as she just wants to help people who are suffering from legal trouble but have no sufficient funds, because if we are being honest, the public defence system in America is a joke.

Once the bell went off Bea checked her timetable to see AP science class first thing in the morning. ‘Kill me now’, she heeded she loved science but on a monday morning? It was a different kind of torture. She walks into the class to see all the students glaring at the projected screen and sees that a seating plan has been put into place for them. Miss Acker, is one of the strictest teachers at Belvoire, she’s a straight to the point no BS kind of teacher who would never let students walk all over her so the students in the AP class knew better than to challenge the seating plan. Bea looked for her name to see her being placed at the back corner of the class and her seating buddy is, no way… It’s Poppy. Bea felt a sliver of enlightenment fill her chest, an entire year of sitting next to Poppy and no one would say anything because they had no choice but to be next to each other.

As Bea makes her way to the back she sees Poppy stride into the class, she gives Bea a quick wink, so quick that you would’ve missed it within a blink of an eye as she promptly took a seat in a random seat near the front of the class, her focus is on taking out her books from her bags until a stern tone catches her attention.

“Miss Min Sinclair, if you bothered to look at the screen you would see there’s a seating plan, you’re supposed to sit with Miss Hughes at the back”, Miss Acker raises an eyebrow waiting for Poppy to oblige.

“I-”, Poppy’s face flushes red, either from the embarrassment of being called out or the thought of sitting next to Bea all year, it wasn’t clear. She picks up her notebook and bag and as she’s walking to the back of the class a hand reaches out to touch her elbow.

“Good luck sitting next to the freak all year” Carter’s voice smooth and his tone jesting at Poppy.

“Uh, thanks,” Poppy lets out an awkward laugh and sits at the back daring not to look at Bea as the lesson begins.

“So, looks like we’re science buddies,” Bea leans over and whispers as Miss Ackers goes over the rules of the lab.

“Not here Bea, please,” Poppy almost pleads as her attention is fixated at the front of the classroom.

Bea huffs a little, “well we do have to work together Pops, you can’t exactly avoid me since we go to the same school and everything”.

Poppy doesn’t answer Bea, as the class continues. As Miss Acker addresses the class, Poppy’s attention shifts to the notebook in front of her, doodling across the blank page. She draws a little bumblebee and a heart around it and nudges Bea slightly with her elbow, directing her focus to her drawing. A small smile graces Bea’s face as she runs a finger around the heart and the bee on Poppy’s notebook.

Bees were part of an inside joke between the two girls, Poppy used to call Bea her ‘little bumblebee’ when they were 14 and although Bea pretended to hate the nickname she found it a little sweet and gave Poppy the nickname ‘Popsicle’.

The lesson carries on in full silence between the girls as they begin to concentrate at the lesson at hand, and when the lesson ended Poppy quickly packs up her things, grabs her bag and leaves the class with Carter and a few other girls in tow. Bea sighs and places her hands in her jacket pocket suddenly hearing the rustling of a piece of paper. She brings it out and sees a little folded note, and when she unfolds it, she sees a cartoon drawing of two girls kissing and the words ‘I love you’ written underneath it. She has no idea when Poppy even put the note in her pocket but she’s grateful she did. It was the little things like that that made Bea smile, and reminds her why she loves Poppy so much. To the rest of the school, it seems like the girls don’t even care about each other but Poppy’s a secret romantic at heart and usually leaves little tidbits around Bea as a reminder of her love.

She pockets the note and goes to her next class with a little more pep in her steps. Lunchtime soon rolls over and Bea sits on one of the tables alone enjoying her sandwich. A few tables over, Poppy and her friends are laughing and sharing stories about their summer. One of the girls who’s sitting next to Poppy, catches Bea staring their way and gives a little wave.

“Veronica who are you waving at?” Chloe’s voice blares and she turns her head looking around the lunch hall to see who’s gotten her attention now.

Veronica Lombardi, Poppy’s other best friend and one of the very few people who actually treats Bea like a decent human being. She is one of the prettiest girls in school, excluding Poppy, and last year she made the decision to dye her hair a really cool greyish ombre which makes her look ever hotter. She’s also on the cheer team, and is also a vlogger and has over 30k subscribers on her growing youtube channel. Veronica’s family moved to Greensburg when she was 12, and she became quick friends with Poppy after being introduced at a work dinner since Veronica’s dad is one of the COOs for one of Poppy dad’s companies. Veronica also grew up with a lot of money and privilege but it never once deterred her from making friends from all sorts of places. She’s also the only one of Poppy’s friends who knows the truth about her and Bea’s relationship after accidentally walking into one of their make out sessions in the locker room last year during cheer and volleyball practice. She was super understanding and completely supportive of the relationship and often joins the girls when they would go to parties in the southside, arguing that they were tons more fun than the regular highschool parties her peers hosted. She loves to tease Poppy about Bea and insinuate that Poppy may or may not be in a secret relationship which would make their friendship group ask Poppy all kinds of questions about her ‘secret boyfriend’.

“I’m just waving at Bea” that earns a hard eye roll from Chloe who just shifts her focus on her salad. “Is it me or has she gotten hotter over the summer?” she nudges Poppy with her elbow giving her a playful smile. Poppy’s jaw tightens as she stealthily kicks Veronica’s shin under the table.

The rest of the people on the table have disgusted looks on their faces at the mention of Bea until Ford, one of the boys on the football team and a perfect example of classic dumb jock says, “I heard she got chylamidia or something because her mom pimps her out to get money or drugs”.

Poppy takes a stab at her salad and gulps uneasily, “Can we talk about something less disgusting you’re making me lose my appetite.”

Another girl, Tasha, who surprise surprise is also a cheerleader chimes in, “Like you ever have an appetite Poppy” the table bursts in laughter while Chloe sits in silence lost in thought.

“What the hell are you plotting Chlo? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you think so much” Veronica laughs.

A devilish smile appears on Chloe’s face, “I have a little surprise for that little tramp at the end of lunch, I’m just thinking about how hilarious it’s going to be”, the rest of the table reciprocate a similar smile on their faces except for Poppy and Veronica who just lock eyes confused at Chloe’s revelation.

Poppy clears her throat, “so, uh, what are you planning?” Her tone is steady attempting to keep it as monotone as she can so no one suspects she cares.

“Lets just say she’s gonna get the stripper treatment real soon” and with that the conversation swiftly changes.

All the while an unsuspecting Bea sits at her table, after acknowledging Veronica’s wave with a swift nod of her head, Bea silently eats her lunch until she’s interrupted by two scrawny hands clamping onto her shoulders.

“Dammit AJ you’re gonna give me a heart attack”, Bea sputters while her mouth is full of food. The young boy breaks into a wide grin and sits opposite Bea and swipes the cookie off Bea’s tray, “Hey no!” Bea grabs the cookie before he can shove it into his mouth, “not my cookie, I need my sugar”.

AJ sulks a little, giving Bea a strong puppy dog look until she gives in and breaks her cookie in half giving him the larger piece. “Thanks Bea, I’m starving and all the good food has already run out, they’re just handing out apples for dessert” he sticks out his tongue making a ‘blergh’ sound and shudders.

Bea doesn’t laugh, instead she stares intensely at the sophomore with a small frown outlined on her lips’, she leans in her voice low and serious, ‘AJ I want you to tell me the truth, where were you yesterday and why did you call me so late?”

AJ gulps and places one of his hands on the back of his head and rubs it sheepishly, “I wasn’t doing anything bad I swear, it’s just that dad came home late last night and started fighting with my mom, it woke me up and I guess I just needed someone to talk to. I’m sorry i should’ve texted you back or something.”

“Yeah you should’ve, AJ I was worried sick, you can’t pull that kinda crap on me okay? If you can’t reach me at least text me or leave a voice message or something.”

The boy nods but Bea isn’t entirely convinced he’s telling the truth but she decides to let it go since AJ is usually not someone who likes to dwell on the bad stuff. The conversation moves to a lighter one as the two reminisce about the summer and the parties they went to and how they were looking forward to the party on saturday.

“I heard Razor’s getting a bunch of fireworks for the party, it’s gonna be so lit”, AJ is almost jumping out of his seat while Bea looks stunned.

“Fireworks, really? Poppy would love that, I gotta remember to invite her.”

AJ rolls his eyes slightly not that he had anything against Poppy, he adores her, he just hates the lovey dovey crap, “yes, yes she’ll love it,” he looks down at his phone and abruptly stands from his seat, and tells Bea he needs to fill up his water bottle but before Bea can even open her mouth, AJ moves out of her line of sight and sprints out of the dining hall. ‘Well he’s most definitely lying’ she thinks but she doesn’t want to press the matter in case AJ closes off on her, she trusts that he wouldn’t do anything too stupid. She begins to clean up after herself and throws her rubbish into the trash can and walks towards the courtyard. Just as she’s leaving, Chloe, Carter, Ford, Tasha and a few of the others on the table share a conspiratorial look before standing up and going after Bea.

Poppy pulls Veronica to the side, her face filled with worry, “What the hell are they planning?”

Veronica simply shrugs in response, her face looking exasperated, “I don’t know P but it’s not gonna be good”, she grabs Poppy’s elbow and pulls her towards the doors, “let’s catch up before something bad happens”.

Bea peacefully walks in the courtyard, one of her hands inside her jacket pocket fiddling with the note Poppy left for her, a small smile gracing her features. Behind her, she hears a loud cough and stops in her tracks, she automatically knew it was Chloe, she softly sighs and turns to see a group of Poppy’s friends encircling her. Her face twitches into a scorn as she uneasily looks around to see the preppy kids staring back at her, all greeting her with a smile which unsettled her.

“What the hell do you and your stupid cult want Chloe?” She tries to look unbothered but her fingers deceive her, as they fiddle with the straps of her backpack. Behind the group she sees Poppy and Veronica almost running and stopping in their tracks when they see the group surrounding Bea.

“We all want a show,” Chloe spreads out her arms smiling, god her smug face is so punchable. She walks towards Bea until she’s standing directly in front of her, “well strip tease? I got a paying audience here, why don’t you show us what you mom taught you?”

Bea shoves Chloe back, and Tasha steps forward and suddenly moves her hands so quick Bea for sure thinks she’s going to be punched. Instead she brings out a bunch of one dollar bills? ‘Oh shit’ is all Bea could think before the group began throwing one dollar bills at the brunette, drawing the attention of all the students in the courtyard. Some took out their phones to record the ordeal while some started cheering and whistling.

“Come onnnn, don’t be such a tease Bea, show us something” Tasha forces Bea back into the middle of the circle as Bea struggles to leave.

All the colour drains from Bea’s face as she takes in the faces of the laughing students all publicly humiliating her, it makes her so mad, especially at her mother, who’s at fault for the nickname ‘strip tease’. Bea looks over at Poppy who is frozen in her spot, her face falls when suddenly Veronica pushes herself into the circle and grabs Chloe by the arm, “End this now Chloe, it’s not funny,” Veronica’s eyes are filled with fury, Bea’s heart slightly drops because she secretly hoped that it was Poppy standing up for her.

“Chillax V, Bea’s used to people throwing their money at her,” she laughs and bends down to pick up some fallen one dollar bills from the floor and throws it in the air. Carter moves towards Bea and places a folder one dollar bill in the loop of her jeans and winks at her and just when Bea pulls her hand back to deliver a blow, a sharp whistle sound infiltrates the ears of all the students who begin clasping at their ears.

“What the hell is going on here!” the voice bellows over the entire courtyard.

“Principal Steinhelm, I-” Chloe struggles to speak.

Principal Steinhelm quickly assesses the situation, seeing Bea’s hands balled into fists and on the verge of tears, with one dollar bills thrown all around her while the rest of the students are surrounding her, some still holding money in their hands. She raises a hand and points at the crowd encircling all the guilty students and simply says, “All of you detention, if any of you do not show up today, there will be consequences. Get to class. Now”. All the students begin to disperse, Veronica places a hand on Bea’s arm and comfortingly rubs it for a few seconds before she walks towards Poppy who is still staring at Bea, her eyes filled with sadness, she looks away and trudges off with Veronica and the rest of her friends who are laughing cruelly in tow. Principle Steinhelm advances towards Bea, eyes filled with concern, “Miss Hughes would you like me to call your mother?”

Bea shakes her head no, her voice dissipated, scared that if she tries to speak, she’ll just burst into tears. Principle Steinhelm gives Bea an awkward pat on her shoulder before telling her to make her way to class as the bell rings. For the rest of the day, students around Bea were staring at her, sharing whispers and covertly laughing at the brunette, so much for not wanting to draw any attention today. Her phone buzzes with texts from Poppy but Bea puts her phone on silent not wanting to think about everything that just happened at school.

Once the school day is over, Bea runs over to the parking lot and speeds off to work, not waiting to give Chloe a third chance to annoy her today. Poppy sees the girl rushing to leave and feels a pang in her chest. It kills her to see her girlfriend being mistreated but she couldn’t do anything to help her. Right?

read part 3 here:

#playchoices #queen b #poppy min sinclair #poppy x mc

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