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sleekervae · 2 years

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The Neighbour [3.4]

A/N: oh my gosh look who it is! it's sleekervae popping in here like she hasn't been gone for three months holy shit! I'm so sorry to everybody. On that note, I'm super super SUPER grateful to everyone who continued to support me and read this series! Writing has been really hard for me lately so this chapter is going to be a little bit shorter. My plot is moving but my urge to write is halting. Anyway, here is part 34 of The Neighbour! And as always, comment is you'd like to be tagged!

Warnings: none, it's just kinda filler for now. a slight slight slight bit of angst...

Cold water dripped down Eva's wrists as she rubbed gently at the lotion on her cheeks. The air was warm, filled with the scent of shampoo and men's body lotion that wafted from the shower in the corner. Eva's bathroom was easily half the size of Remington's, and yet he felt cozy and at ease in her small shower. Like frost in the middle of winter, fog creeped down the glass walls and his silhouette was a hazy blur whilst he stood under the shower.

Eva finished washing her face, the water leaving a delightfully cold sensation over her cheeks. She leaned against the counter as she shamelessly watched her boyfriend; she was just able to piece together the tattoos slick with water and soap, slowly dripping down his slender physique.

Remington wasn't ignorant to Eva, he could make out her reflection in the tile wall. He smiled to himself with satisfaction whilst he continued to shampoo his hair.

"Take a picture," he teased, glancing at her over his shoulder.

Eva smirked coyly, "Maybe I will. Bet your fangirls would love seeing one of your nudes floating around the internet,"

"You wouldn't dare!" he gasped dramatically.

Eva picked up her phone from the pocket of her shorts, watching the blacked out screen with contemplation. She then bursted into giggles.

"You're right, I won't," and she slipped the phone back into her pocket.

He shook his head in mock disapproval, "Naughty girl. When I come out of this shower --"

"I'm already gonna' be on my first cup of tea," she grinned. They both had a full day ahead of them; the band had their first full tracking session in their make-shift home studio, while Eva had an abundance of deadlines to meet for her writing assignments. If she could get them all done by the end of the day than she could afford to have the weekend off. Caity was throwing another house party and she was adamant that Eva and Remington had to come by.

The pattering of the shower thinned to a halt and Remington hopped out, quick to grab a towel and quickly dried himself to ward off the morning chill. He wrapped and tied the towel around his hips, shivering as water continued to drip down his back from his hair.

"Babe, can you pass me a small towel?"

"I'll do you one better," from under the sink cabinet, Eva pulled out a towel wrap, "Give that a try,"

Remington amusedly held out the towel wrap, "I think my mom has one of these," he bent down and wrapped his damp hair into the blue towel, glancing back at his reflection with delight.

"Damn, not bad!" he grinned.

"What do you mean not bad? You look amazing in everything!" Eva replied.

"Well, you're not too bad, neither," he simpered.

She glanced at him peripherally as she smeared toothpaste on her toothbrush, "Nice to know you just settled, then" she joked.

"Yeah --" Remington scoffed, "I settled, alright" he pulled her in by the waist just as she tried to brush her teeth, her back knocking against his chest and her stunned giggles was one of his favourite sounds whilst he peppered kisses along her shoulder and neck. His lips stopped to leave a lingering kiss on her temple.

"I settled for a beautiful, talented, intelligent woman who has a never-ending barrel of patience for putting up with my shit," he grinned at their reflection.

Eva tilted her back to meet his gaze, pouting slightly, "You're too hard on yourself. You're only kind of irritating," she smirked before popping her toothbrush into her mouth.

"Oh yeah?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Uh-huh," she muffled back.

He shrugged, "I'll take it," he kissed her head again, keeping his arm looped around her waist as he grabbed his phone off of the counter. Eva watched curiously as he opened the camera app.

"Aem rushing my eef" she said, looking down at her t-shirt and cotton shorts, "An aem nah ressed,"

"And I'm wearing a hair wrap and a towel, what's your point?" he replied.

Eva decided to just go with it, grabbing his arm with her free hand and posing in tandem to Remington's silly face as he snapped a couple of pictures. These weren't pictures to be posted for clout, they were just silly, domestic moments for the two of them to share.

Remington couldn't help but smile, admiring her fresh-faced, natural beauty from the wispy hairs at the top of her hairline to the dab of foam at the corner of her lip.

"See? Even brushing your teeth, you're cute," he gushed, showing her the photo.

Eva turned to glance at the photo, take out her toothbrush before turning in her spot so she could face him, properly beaming, "We're cute,"

One wouldn't see if from looking on the outside-in, however the main living room of Remington and Emerson's house had been completely transformed into a DIY sound booth and studio. Extra tables and dresser drawers had been pushed against the wall, giving Chris plenty of room to set up his computer equipment. Behind him sat a studio mic, standing well above six feet for any of the guys to reach with ease. Not to mention it wore a draping cape of a spare linen blanket to block out sound. It was a messy set up, though nonetheless it worked for the band.

Emerson was sprawled across the couch, drumsticks clutched in one hand while his hat was pulled down over his eyes. The boys swore he had fallen asleep again until they heard a rumbling, "What're we naming it?"

Chris spun back in his chair, Sebastian stopped tuning his guitar, and Remington glanced warily at the youngest brother, "Ya' think we should maybe... I don't know... finish writing the album before we name it?"

"Unless you got some ideas," Sebastian said.

Emerson nodded, pushing up the brim of his hat with his drumsticks to finally reveal his eyes. They batted and squinted at the intake of natural light, "Fever Dream,"

Chris cocked his head, "We haven't even started recording that track. You sure that's what you want to name it?" he asked.

"Why not?" Emerson replied, "The entirety of this year has been like a bad shared delusion. We could call it 'Bad Trip' instead, but 'Fever Dream' is more appropriate. Has some finesse to it, ya know?"

"I'm down," Remington shrugged.

Sebastian nodded slowly, picking mindlessly at the keys to his fender, "Alright. 'Fever Dream' -- first in the running,"

Chris was ready to turn back to his computer and sync the next track, though he was suddenly interrupted by Pepper's sudden and incessant barking -- followed by the doorbell ringing.

"What is that now?" he asked.

"Postmates?" Remington asked, a glimmer of excitement in his eye.

Sebastian shook his head, "Postma -- we just had breakfast!" he said.

"What's your point?"

Emerson then began to stand up, "Nope, that's mine," he said, making his way to the door, "I'm gonna' need some help,"

"What did you order, now?" Sebastian asked, his patience wearing thin as he followed his little brother. Remington and Chris trailed behind.

Emerson flung the front door open just as a large white van began to peel out into the street. It was a delivery van, and at his feet sat a large cardboard box. Emerson's face lit up immediately.

"Oh finally! Thought it would never get here!" he exclaimed as he lifted it up, stumbling from side to side to gain his balance.

"What is that?" Remington asked.

"My calendars," the boys made way as Emerson shuffled back into the studio with his box, "Where's the box cutter?"

The box cutter was retrieved and the packing tape sliced open. Emerson ripped out the cardboard and paper packaging like a child on his birthday, eager for his presents. Only, instead of a Hot Wheels set or a nerf gun, the box was stacked and packed tightly with Emerson's custom calendars.

"Hello my beauties," Emerson simpered in awe, taking one out and admiring it in the light.

Remington pulled out another copy and flipped through, the pages and crisp and making the most satisfying cracking noise as they fell against one another. The months were tea-stained, graphed in beautiful fonts while the top pages were prints of Emerson's paintings, eerily immersive and seductively haunting. At the bottom of many pages were small passages with content rambling on and on about the beauty and escapism of art and expression. It didn't take much for Remington to recognize Eva's writing style, it brought a little smile to his face.

"These are amazing!" Chris gaped, "And you made all of these prints?"

"Yes I did," Emerson nodded, "Available for individual purchase on EmersonBarret.com. Hey, where's Eva?" he tapped Remington, "I want to show her!"

"The girls went out for brunch," Sebastian replied, "They'll probably be back in a couple hours,"

In a small nook between Little Tokyo and the Toy District sat a cozy, ornate, minimalist restaurant. Despite the pandemic's continuing strikes against the hospitality industry, this restaurant was thriving by the looks of their bustling outdoor patio. The soft pan-flute covers of Billboard's hits was barely audible between the atmosphere and the roaring city life of downtown LA.

Eva's eyes scanned the menu word-for-word, her stomach rumbling to a degree that her cup of coffee just couldn't settle. Despite her hunger, she had to admit she was a bit overwhelmed by the vast and fanciful options listed on this brunch menu. When Katie suggested the girls go for brunch, Eva was expecting the classic eggs benedict with a mimosa or two to follow; instead she was bewildered and intrigued at the prospects of ordering a seafood rice porridge or smoked salmon on toast with chicories.

"Alright, cheers ladies," Larissa held up her rosé glass, clinking with Shy's iced tea and Eva's coffee, "To a gorgeous Sunday brunch and not contracting any viruses thus far,"

"Don't speak too soon," Eva nodded, "It's only October,"

"Are you guys gonna' get your flu shots?" Shy asked, "My mom's been nagging me about it. Apparently they're running out in the mid-west,"

"Yeah, I think so," Larissa replied nonchalantly. Eva took a brief look around at their surroundings. Sure the weather wasn't as sweltering as it had been during the summer, though the sun was still blazing proudly and people were jogging up and down the streets in their shorts and crop tops like July was a never-ending prospect.

"I still can't believe this is October for you guys," she gaped, "It's pouring fucking buckets in Seattle right now,"

"You think this is bad, just wait til' Christmas," Shy teased.

Larissa swished her rosé in its stem glass, "Do you miss Seattle, Eva?"

"Some parts of it," the young writer shrugged, "Rizal Park, Melrose Market, my car..."

"You have a car?" Shy asked.

"Yeah. Well, it was originally my sister's, but after she got her license revoked my dad put the insurance in my name," Eva said, "Kind of taught her a lesson,"

"I didn't know you had a sister," Larissa said.

"And a brother. I'm the baby in the family," Eva sighed.

"You never talk about them," Shy pointed out.

"That's because I haven't talked to them in over a year," she replied.

Larissa nodded, "Family drama? Everybody has it,"

"Let's put it this way: probably for the best that I'm on the other side of the West coast," Eva replied.

A server came by and took their order promptly, though Larissa was still intrigued to learn more about Eva's elusive family.

"How'd your dad take it when you wanted to move?" she asked.

"About as well as any father would take it," Eva replied, "I got all the lectures: you don't know anybody down there! there's criminals all around the streets! what about the heroin and the weed?"

"Your dad knows that weed's legal now, right?" Shy simpered.

"Yeah, but he doesn't like the thought of his kids doing any type of recreational drugs," she replied.

"But you still get on with your dad, right?" Shy asked.

Eva nodded, "I talk to him almost every week, tell him everything except for the deliberately omitted,"

"Better not tell him about Caity's parties, then," Larissa said.

"Speaking of party... Halloween's coming up in a couple of weeks," Shy said, "What're we wearing?" she folded her fingers to cup her chin.

Larissa smirked smugly, "I got an idea up my sleeve,"

"I don't like the way you're looking at me," Eva chuckled.

"It's nothing bad, don't worry," Larissa grinned, "You and Rem talk about costumes?"

"Not yet I'm afraid," she replied, "What're we gonna --" the sentence wasn't half out of her mouth before Eva's phone began to ring. The screen flashed a picture of her dad -- speak of the devil. Though she knew she could always call him back later.

"Sorry," and Eva quickly denied the call.

"Oh my gosh!" Shy gaped teasingly, "How dare your phone go off mid-day!"

Eva rolled her eyes, "I know, call the Daily Bugle," she said, "What're we talking about?"

"Halloween costumes," Larissa then turned to Shy, "What're you and Emerson gonna' do?"

"Well --" but yet again, Eva's phone blasted at full octave. Eva grimaced when she saw her father's picture come up again.

"I think you'd better get that, Eva," Shy said.

Eva shook her head, quickly standing as she clutched her phone, "Guess so, I'll be right back,"

The girls watched Eva slip out of the patio and stand on the curb, rocking back and forth on her heels as she spoke to her dad. Shy sighed quietly, tapping her long nails slowly against the hardtop table.

"I wonder what happened between them," she asked Larissa, "I mean -- so much shit has to go down for you to completely cut off your mom and your siblings. I couldn't imagine doing it,"

"It's not our place to ask or judge," Larissa huffed, "It's not the first time it's happened, though. One of my clients has a wife who hasn't talked to her parents in nearly a decade,"

"Bad marriage?" Shy asked.

"Bad coming out," Larissa said, "You think Eva told her dad about us and Remington?"

"She said she tells him everything," Shy said, " -- except for what she 'deliberately omits', whatever that means,"

Larissa watched as Eva's body language began to shift from typically optimistic to a slow slump, she came to appear to be a static picture in an ever hustling crowd of passers by.

"I think it means that her dad has an image of what he wants Eva to be, and she has a different idea to what she wants out of her life. And with all the familial bullshit, California seems like a kosher place to start over,"

"Like everybody else in this city," Shy scoffed.

The server suddenly came along with another bus boy and set down the girls' brunch. The girls thanked him briefly, though their minds were put off of food as they watched Eva's body language sink lower and lower. Her knees were buckled at the joint, her hand rubbing anxiously at her neck, and she had turned now so she wouldn't have to look at either Larissa nor Shy. The girls glanced at each other fretfully.

"That doesn't look good," Larissa muttered.

"I wonder what they're talking about," Shy said.

Eva was abrupt as she hung up the call and dashed back to the table, her scowl as clear as the fresh glassware. She sat down without a word, staring at her salmon on toast without much enthusiasm for a bite. The girls glanced at each other again.

"So... w-what happened?" Larissa asked.

Shy's nails continued to tap on the table, only in quicker succession in attempt to mask her own anxiety as Eva remained quiet. She needed a minute to process the conversation she'd just had with her dad, afraid to repeat his words should her coffee come back up on her.

Nevertheless, Eva took a deep breath, shaking her head at her breakfast, "... I think I have to go back to Seattle,"

@boxofsparklingmuses @sinmatic @mndsxarts @rottingerotic @liilliiana

#remington leith #remington leith imagine #eva kuznetsov #palaye royale #palaye fanart #palaye royale imagine #sebastian danzig #emerson barrett #fever dream #original female character #original story #band blog #band imagine blog #band imagines #fluffy #angst prompt

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blackmissfrizzle · 4 years

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Sweatpants SZN (Angel Edition)

Characters: Angel Reyes x black!reader

Summary: Angel goes out dressed like a hoe. Inspired by this post about my frustration by the boys wearing jeans when they sleep.

Warnings: it’s long 3k worth 😬 and a whole lotta filth

A/N: Here’s another series for my Mayan men! I already have plans for Nestor, EZ, and Miguel.

A/N 2: Special dedication to @starrynite7114 thank you for always indulging me and being a wonderful friend

To check out more here’s my masterlist and if you want notifications here’s my taglist.

Photo cred: @starrynite7114

When you first found out that Angel sometimes wore jeans to sleep it boggled your mind. You were the type of girl that took off her bra, kick off her shoes, and take off your pants as soon as you got home. So, to see Angel sleeping in his jeans was lowkey traumatizing.

As a dutiful girlfriend (and also a partly selfish girlfriend) you bought Angel some gray sweatpants. You wanted him to be as comfortable as possible and looking good at the same time. What you didn’t count on was that everyone else could appreciate the goods.

You were pouring yourself a cup of coffee of when Angel came home. He’d left early this morning before you woke up. “I’m back, querida.” You could hear him setting down bags on the table.

“Good morn-ingg,” the cheerfulness dropped out of your voice when you saw what Angel was wearing. A plain white t-shirt that was getting too tight, because of all the working out he was doing which made him almost as cut as EZ and a pair of those damn gray sweatpants you had bought for him.

“What?” Angel asked, confused at your sudden change in mood. “Do I got something on my face or clothes?” He started swiping his face and body, trying to clean the imaginary dirt off him.

“Nah, you’re good. Did you really wear that to the store?” Angel was genuinely confused. He didn’t see anything wrong with his outfit. “Yeah. Does it not match or something?”

“You really went out like that without me?” It finally dawned on Angel. He heard hints of jealousy. He didn’t know why he didn’t hear it at first, because he was so used to asking this same question. Angel did his best to keep his smile to himself, you were gonna pop a gasket when he told you where he went after the grocery store. “Yeah, you were sleeping. I doubt you wanted me to wake you up to go to the store and Vicki’s place.”

You almost spit out your coffee when Angel mentioned Vicki’s place. “YOU WENT WHERE?!” Angel began putting up the groceries because if he didn’t, he would’ve burst out laughing at you. “Vicki’s. Bishop called when I was at the store and asked if I could drop some things over.”

He was fucking with you. He was avoiding eye contact with you for a reason. “Angel!” He stopped putting the cereal on top of the refrigerator and turned towards you. He didn’t even last thirty seconds of you staring at him before he started laughing. “Screw you, Angel!” It didn’t even bother him that you were angry, your jealousy was cute to him.

Too enraptured in aggressively washing out your mug, you didn’t notice Angel walking up on you until he wrapped his hands around your middle and rested his chin on your shoulder. “C’mon you can’t really be mad, can you? Remember I’m a grown man and can wear whatever I want.” He threw the line you used at him the many multiple times when he didn’t agree with the outfit of your choice.

Damn it! You couldn’t think of a great comeback. “Its not the same!” Angel’s laugh vibrated throughout your body. “Someone sounds jealous.” He sung into your ear. You elbowed him off of you and started putting up the rest of the groceries. “No! You not even all that cute to be doing all of that for.”

“Oh really?” He arched his eyebrow at you before he reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head. Angel just made you eat your words. It was like you had a golden god standing before you and the only appropriate response would be to get on your knees to worship him. Thankfully, you had a modicum of dignity and only salivated at the man in front of you.

You were so spaced out that you allowed Angel to pick you up and set you on the counter. “What you staring at, baby?” Angel nudged his nose against yours then ran it along your neck.

“Nothing,” you pouted. Angel kissed your nose then your lips. “You sure?” He took one of your hands and ran it along his body. “Because it seems like you were appreciating my arms, my abs,” his voice got lower as your hand went lower, “my dick.” He emphasized the k. “You feel that? That’s all yours, mami. No need to be jealous, ok?”

“Okay.” You resigned your jealousy and tried to kiss Angel, but he pulled away from you. He reminded you of your agreement last night. No sex today until you and him were finished with cleaning the house, and he knew if he let you kiss him then he would end up fucking you right on the table.

Reluctantly you got up, but at least you were motivated to clean the house faster. Angel took on your shared bedroom and bathroom while you had the front of the house. There were stolen kisses between switches of cleaning supplies and smacks on the butt whenever you passed each other (which Angel pretended he didn’t like when you did it to him.)

You had just finished cleaning your part of the house when you finally allowed yourself to watch Angel cut the grass in the backyard. Grabbing two glasses of sweet tea, you went to stand in the doorway and watch Angel work. Even though they were gonna be trouble those grey sweatpants were a gift from god. They slung low enough on his hips that you could appreciated his Adonis belt. The sun beating down on him made him sweat and if it was possible you would pay an insane amount of money to be one of the sweat droplets rolling down his body.

He finally cut off the lawn mower and smiled at you perving at him. “Thank you,” he took the glass of sweet tea and chugged it down, some of it getting into his beard which made you think of other ways to get his beard wet. “All done cleaning?” He asked, backing you into the house. “Yeah,” you pulled him by the drawstrings until his phone started ringing. “Angel, no,” you whined, knowing it either wouldn’t be a short call or it would be call for him do club business.

Unfortunately, it was the latter. Angel apologized for the inconvenience and jumped in the restroom for a quick shower. Before he left, he apologized again and promised to make it up to you after the party at the clubhouse.

Angel dressing like a thot, being denied sex twice in one day, and being left alone to your own devices was not a good combination. You were doing a good job with keeping your brattiness tucked away, but when you were looking for an outfit for the party, your brattiness in the form of dark Kermit was bubbling up. In the end Kermit won.

As Angel predicted, you made it to the party before him and you were wearing the skirt, he specifically told you not to wear without him present. “Y/N, I’m begging you. Please, please go change.” The last time you wore something this risky at the clubhouse, Angel shoved you into EZ’s trailer and screwed you into tears on his bed. “Chill out, I brought my own car tonight. No one is going in your trailer.” That calmed him down only a tiny bit because he knew once his brother saw you, he was going to lose it.

“He’s gonna kill you, Y/N.” Gilly told you while glaring off anyone thinking of trying to talk to you. No one was gonna approach his friend’s girl while he was around. “The only thing he is gonna kill is,” EZ quickly interrupted you, “Please do not finish that sentence.”

Outside Angel and Coco had just arrived from across the border. “Hey man, y’all got some honeys down here.” Paul from the San Bernardino chapter ran up on them. Coco entertained him while Angel listened. He honestly hasn’t paid attention to any other women since you’ve came in your life. “Then there’s one chick, mannnnnnnn. If Gilly wasn’t acting like some damn guard dog I would’ve talked to her already.”

“Gilly got a girl?” Angel asked, opening the door. “Not to my knowledge.” Coco responded stepping in after his friend.

“Oh, there she is!” Paul pointed out to you talking to EZ and Gilly. “Man, it look like she got some good dick sucki-,” Abruptly Angel grabbed Paul by the collar. “I dare you to finish that fucking sentence.”

Paul saw the fire in Angel’s eyes, and he knew he made a big mistake. “Shit, Angel! My bad! I didn’t know she was your old lady. I won’t even look in her direction.”

“Keep it that way!” Angel pushed Paul away and made a beeline towards you. First, it was EZ that noticed him. Suddenly, the prospect was really into keeping the glasses clean. Then it was Gilly who walked away from you in mid conversation, leaving you confused until you felt the familiar mold of Angel’s body against. “You got ten seconds to walk to the backseat of your car or I’m throwing you over my fucking shoulder.” He whispered into your ear harshly while deceiving everyone else into thinking he was just giving you a hug and whispering sweet words in your ears.

The ten seconds started once he released you and you wasted no time. When Angel got like this it was better to shut up and listen. Angel ignored the ‘hellos’ and ‘what’s up, man’. He was on a mission and nothing would stop him. You were just about to open the car door when you noticed that your car was parked in front of the clubhouse. It was close enough for everyone to hear all the ungodly things Angel was about to do to you. “Aren’t you gonna move the car?” You asked when he was still behind you when you opened the back door. “Get in the got damn car,” he ordered through clenched teeth. You scrambled to get inside, from his tone you knew you didn’t want to press your luck. Once inside, Angel wasted no time. He folded you in half like a table, moved your panties to the side and dived in.

Usually when Angel ate you out, he’d warm you up. A kiss here, a kiss there, small slow torturous licks, but right now all that was thrown out the window. This was as brutal as to all the actual rough fucking he would do to you.

His teeth ran across your clit and it felt like he hit every single nerve. “Angel!” You shout out, reaching out to grab his hair, but he slapped your hand away. “Did I say you could touch my shit? Keep your hands to yourself.”

“But Daddyyy,” you whined, still making grabby hands. “What the fuck did I just say?” Angel grabbed ahold of your wrists in one hand and choked you with the other. “To keep my hands to myself.”

“Then do that shit,” he growled. He released you and went back to work. You had to settle for the handlebar by the window because Angel wasn’t easing up. In fact, he added two of his fingers furiously pumping into you. “Look at you creaming all over my fingers. You don’t even deserve them. What did I fucking tell you about this damn skirt?”

“Not to wear it.” You whimpered about to reach for his wrist, but then you remembered his warning to keep your hands to yourself. “Then you understand why daddy’s pissed. Especially when I got brothers from other chapters talking about how fine you are and how you got some good dick sucking lips.”

“I’m so sorry, daddy.” He hovered over you to give you a quick peck. “It’s okay, baby. You’ll make it up to me by screaming my name.”

Still keep his fingers in you, Angel suckled your bud. The combination of his cold rings in your heated core and his tongue flicking your clit, your orgasm hit you like a freight train. “ANGELLLL, FUCKKKKKKK!” You screamed, beating on the surprisingly strong window.

“Keep cumming.” Angel’s voice was muffled by your pussy in his mouth, but you heard him clearly.

Finally, you calmed down but now you were jonesing for Angel’s dick. You went for Angel’s belt but he back away from you as far as the car allowed you to. “Daddy, I need you to fuck me please.”

“I needed you to be a good girl and listen, but we all can’t get what we want.” Angel felt bad when he saw your dejected little face. He decided to give you a little something else also you didn’t say his name enough for him to let everyone know you belong to him. “If you promise to be a good girl, I’ll give you something to hold you over.”

“I promise, I’ll be good!” Angel laughed at how quickly you agreed to it. He slid your panties off and scooted you closer to him. He grind his clothed groin against your bare one. The friction of the fabric of his jeans on your sensitive clit had you on the verge of tears. “Nah, don’t start that shit,” Angel slapped you. “We still have a party to attend.” Was this man fucking crazy? He expected you to face everyone after this?

Angel proceeded to dry hump you as if he was actually fucking you. “Oh my god, Angel! Just like that. Keep fucking me just like that daddy.” He bent down and wrapped his hand around your throat. “Yeah? You gonna cum all on Daddy’s jeans like a good little slut, huh?”

“Yes, please. I need it so bad, daddy.”

“Ok, just for you.” Angel pressed down on your hips and pummeled into you. “Angel, Angel, Angel,” you chanted his name over and over again while you came for the second time in less than fifteen minutes.

Angel enjoyed your shuddering underneath him, but he couldn’t enjoy it for too long. You two had a party to get to. Taking your panties, he rolled them back up and then fixed your skirt. “When we get out of here you stand in front of me since you made a mess on my jeans, ok.”

“Ok,” Angel pulled you out of the car and smoothed out your clothes. While he did that you tried to clean his face since it was soaked with your juices, but he wouldn’t let you.

The two of you came back in the clubhouse, where the lights illuminated Angel’s face. Gilly was outside when everything happened and when he just saw Angel’s face he shuddered in disgust and called Angel a nasty fuck.

After Gilly left, Liza, head of the Angel Reyes fan club walked up to you two, but she completely ignored you. “Heyy Angel. You looked really good this morning. Sweatpants season suits you very well.” With no shame she dragged her eyes all over his body but was disappointed when you were blocking his crotch.

“Yeah, my girl got them for me. Thanks babe.” Angel turned to you, gave you a kiss, and allowed you to take advantage of it. You took control and basically were swapping spit with him in front of this girl. “Mmm, you taste just like me.” Swiping your thumb across Angel’s bottom lip, you collected some of your lip gloss and juices, and then put it in your mouth. Liza stomped off and Coco called y’all sick fucks.

Just like Angel said, he used you as a shield. The entire night you were stuck like glue. His beer got empty and when you attempted to get up to get him another, he slammed you back down on his lap and yelled at EZ to bring him another. Soon, you figured it had less to do with his now dried and stainless crotch and more to do with your short ass skirt.

The evil bastard also did it so you could constantly feel his erection. It was so bad that you would zone out and think about how great Angel would feel inside of you. You were so deep in your thots thoughts that you hadn’t realized Bishop came and asked you a question. The men around the table laughed at your confused huh and Bishop repeated his question. Quickly you recovered and gave him a smart answer.

“Can’t focus, mami?” Angel smiled against your neck and thrusted his hips, causing more friction between your legs.

Fucking tease! Two can play at that game. The rest of the night you would grind in his lap, making him lose his concentration. You were the reason he lost poker twice that night. Eventually he got tired of your antics and you two finally left the party.

“Imma hit the shower and get all this desert off me. How about you sit and get ready for daddy, hmm?” Angel didn’t wait for your answer and began stripping, leaving a trail of clothes from your bedroom to the bathroom. While he showered you put on your canary yellow Fenty lingerie set. It was one of the few Angel didn’t rip because he loved how it complimented your skin.

Usually Angel came out in a towel or butt ass naked but this time he came out with those damn sweats on. And just like that all the pumping up and the shit talking you did was gone. At this point you were gonna let Angel ruin you.

“Fuck querida, you’re beautiful.” Still standing, Angel bent over, buried his hands in your hair, and kissed you to the point that you almost forgot your own name.

When he ended the kiss, you could feel the energy shift. Daddy Angel was back in the building. He backed away to sit in the chair, but never turned his back on you, so you could keep an eye on his dick print. “Come crawl to Daddy, hermosa.” He crooked his finger at you.

As you made your way to him, he pulled his dick out. You wanted to get to him faster, but that wouldn’t be sexy at all, so you paced yourself. Angel didn’t make it easy for you though. He took his dick out and started stroking it.

Fuck that slow shit, you sped up some more causing Angel to chuckle. “Grab it.” Angel took his hand off of himself and you quickly replaced it with yours. “Feel that, mami? That’s all because of you.” It felt amazing to know you could cause this type of reaction out of Angel.

Normally, Angel would slap his dick in your face, but since he gave you free reign you did it yourself. You enjoyed the hiss that came from you slapped it on your tongue. “See that’s your dick, baby. Now suck it like it yours.” Angel laced his hands behind his head as you went to work.

Keeping your eyes on Angel, you swirled your tongue over the salty mushroom head and kissed the underside. “Stop teasing, querida.” Fluttering your eyes, you tapped his dick against your pursed lips. “What do you mean?” Taking a chunk of your hair, Angel pulled back your head. “You know what I mean. Start sucking or I’ll fuck your throat until no sound can come out of that smartass mouth of yours.”

It really shouldn’t have, but that little threat turned you on more. Behind your back you grabbed opposite elbows, you were gonna make Angel lose his mind with no hands. Easily (thanks to much practice), you took all of Angel in. Bobbing your head up and down you made your man squirm underneath you. “Fuck, just like that baby.” Angel was close, you could tell by the hitch in his voice. So, you played the dangerous game and backed off, only to give him slow, long licks.

“Y/N,” he growled your name in warning. “What?” You asked innocently while unhooking your bra, letting your breasts fall out. “Keep playing this game if you want to. You won’t think it’ll be funny in a little bit.”

To appease your man, you wrapped your tits instead of your mouth around his cock, stroking him that way while occasionally licking the head. “Shit, shit, shit.” Angel abruptly pulled away from you, lifted you from the ground, threw you on the bed, and ripped your panties off. “Angel!” He shoved his sweats off and pumped his cock while he climbed into bed. “I’ll buy you another set. Fuck I’ll buy you all the sets.”

Just like in the car Angel had your ankles by your ears, but this time he actually had his dick inside of you and your orgasm was automatic. “Damn, already? Who’s making you cream like this, mami?”

“You are Daddy,” you whined, clutching onto him. “Mmhmm that’s right. Whose pussy is this?”

“Yours!” You screeched when Angel’s fingers found your clit. “And whose dick is this?”

“Mines,” you yelled as Angel kept hitting that golden spot. “Then start acting like it! Ain’t no other bitch about to take it. This all your dick.”

Pulling Angel by the back of the neck, you kissed him. “Keep fucking me just like that, Daddy. I wanna cream all over my dick.”

“Yeah?” Angel tilted your chin and nipped at your lips. “You like when I fuck you like a whore?” Angel drew back, almost pulling all the way out and then snapped his hips against yours. “Good fucking pussy. Can I cum in my pussy?” You nodded your head furiously. “Yes daddy, fill me up please.”

With a couple of more snaps of his hips Angel had both of you screaming in ecstasy. Each of your orgasms prolonging the other’s. It felt like hours before either one of you caught your breath.

“Sooooo, is it a good or bad thing that I bought some more sweats?” Angel asked, already going down on you, not waiting for an answer.

“Good, definitely gooood!” You shrieked when you felt the first lick.

Thank god for sweatpants season.

Tags: @starrynite7114 @ourlittlesecretsoveragain @sambucky8 @mygirlrenee @richonne4life @readsalot73 @chaneajoyyy @ljstraightnochaser @my-rosegold-soul @angrythingstarlight @brattyfics @lovebennycolon @langiinspirations @chibsytelford @trulysuccubus @spookys-girl @brownsugarcoffy @thesandbeneathmytoes @fvckthisbxtchup @theartisticqueen @vsfavs @ifoundmyhappythought @angelreyesgirl @marvelmaree @strawberrywritings @blessedboo @sadeyesgf @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @woahitslucyylu

#black!reader #angel reyes #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes x black!reader #mayans m.c.#mayans mc #mayans mc fandom #mayans fanfic

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mae-gi-writes · 4 years

Text

Obtuse | Bang Chan (Stray Kids) - PART ONE

Summary ☆ "I don't know. I want to be his friend but then again, I don't. I mean, how can you simply be friends with someone when every time you look at them, you're thinking about how much more you really want?"

Genre ☆ bestfriends to lovers au, angst, slowburn, suggestive themes, college au, fluff, soft Chan x oc (Micha)

Word count ☆ 6k ish

. ° ☆ ° .

PART ONE

. ° ☆ ° .

Micha hated being wrong.

Her fingers tapped an unsteady rhythm over her notebook as she stared at the block of text she had been supposedly studying for the past hour, her desk lamp casting a yellowish hue over her page as if the book itself was a sickly entity with the sole goal of rendering her mad. Attached to her ceiling, her fan kept on whirring in a noisy hum which -- while she normally managed to tune it out -- grated at her nerves. The world bustled outside, cars honking in the distance while soft rain splattered over her bedroom window as she sighed for what must’ve been the nth time that evening, slowly lifting her arms up in a stretch.

It wasn’t in her nature to be so scatter-brained, for once she set her mind to something, there could be little to stop her. That was one of the qualities she could pride herself on considering that there was hardly any skill she could flaunt to the world -- surely there were far more interesting things than reciting off a long list of human body parts and their required functions?

But this recent issue popping up in her brain was doing a great job at knocking her off her feet. Dear god, she felt the same sense of unbalance as when she was five and her mom had enrolled her into ballerina lessons.

Long story short, it hadn’t ended well.

Micha’s eyes darted to her phone that she’d tossed onto her bed a few minutes ago. The cause of her restlessness, the cause of unease stirring inside her stomach like an angry beast prowling back and forth.

The words from his earlier message felt like they were etched into her memory:

Chan: SHE SAID YES

Just three words. Three little stings that made her wince every time she thought of them. Three little needles that pierced at her heartstrings.

Why?

Her grip tightened onto her pen. So hard her knuckles turned the colour of chalk.

Why didn’t she feel happy for him as she was supposed to?

Micha’s tongue poked at her cheek.

Why did it feel so wrong? Why did she feel wronged when she’d done nothing of the sort?

Wasn't it just a few weeks ago that she had spurred Chan's obvious interest, urging him to hustle a little closer to that particular girl in question when she had caught the said young man casting her quick, shy glances over the rim of his drink?

"Just ask her," Micha told him when he'd sought her out looking like a lost puppy amidst the heavy bass of the music. It had been the summer right before their final year of University and on this special occasion, Minho had thrown a small party to which every high school classmate of their year had been invited.

"You know I can't. I don't know how...you know," he scratched the back of his head, dark locks ruffling as the summer wind. It was in those small, stolen moments -- where Chan was the most vulnerable, where he let down his guard to deploy his array of unspoken feelings -- that she remembered the young man for who he was: the familiar fullness of his full lips, the curve of his nose, the simplicity of his monolids.

"You won't know till you try," she took a sip of her rum and coke.

Truthfully speaking, Chan had never been in a serious relationship. He was friends with everyone, the kind of person that was easy-going and who could engage in any kind of conversation with anyone and everyone. The only consequence was that Chan was thrust into the friendzone without even trying.

But then again, he was a nice guy. And nice guys finished last.

“What’s the worst that can happen anyway?” Micha joked as she downed the rest of her drink, “she’s been eyeing you since we got here.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

He leaned closer with squinted eyes as he tried to find the lie in her words, “you’re not just saying that to be nice?”

He was so close she got a whiff of his scent. Reaching up with her index finger to push him away, Micha proceeded to roll her eyes, “I don’t do nice, Chan. We both know that.”

She shouldn’t have been surprised to see him slip away a few minutes later to seek her out. Ayeong was her name. Beauty, in Korean. And which suited her perfectly, what with her tiny waist and her big set of doe eyes that could make any man weak at the knees, her supple legs that seemed to go on and on forever and that cupid bow’s mouth that was always puckered in that innocently cute, yet sensual way of hers.

And if not for her physique, Ayeong was known for her kindness and for her outgoing, free-natured and confident spirit. That was the killer blow for any man that sought her out.

Micha had known her since high school, hung out with the same friends and admittedly could classify her as one too, even though college life had pulled them apart like boats that had left the harbour only to find each other after a year.

Memories of Micha’s last night flickered behind her open lids and leaning back into her chair with a sigh, she gave way to the sudden urge of homesickness suddenly flowing through her heart.

Their last movie night had ended and despite Micha’s frantic eye movements towards Ayeong’s figure, Chan had immediately volunteered to walk her back home.

Micha kept her gaze forward, noticing how the golden glow of the street lamps did little to light their way. She turned her head to the right, where the road gave way to the landscape littered with golden lights, now bathed in deep hues of blue as light slowly slithered from behind the mountains.

“So this is it huh?” Chan’s murmur sliced through with a hint of sadness in his deep alto, “you sure you’re not going to come back home for Christmas?”

It was tradition after all. They had made it adamant to travel back at least every three months and up until now, they had kept that promise.

Now though, with Micha’s piling workload and with Chan’s busy thesis schedule, this year might be the one exception.

“I can’t, Chan. I have my internship,” Micha didn’t dare look at him, fighting the tightness winding in her chest, “you can always drop by. My university is just a train ride away I suppose.”

"You’re not gonna kick me out if I turn up at your door one day?”

“I can’t promise that.”

He gasped, grabbing onto his chest in mock hurt, “Ouch. Okay, what if I turn up with your favourite bubble tea?”

"Then we might have a deal.”

They both laughed softly, pushing each other with their elbows as they walked up Micha’s street. At one point, Chan had looped his arm around hers before shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets and as they talked about their recent adventures and all the dumb things they’d done, it was clear that he was avoiding the pain of saying goodbye right until he stopped at her front door.

She turned to him and forced down the tears burning at the edges of her eyes. The morning light had slithered through the landscape now and hit the side of Chan’s face in a scarlet shade of golden, reflecting the caramel of his orbs pinning her down with a sadness that made her throat choke up.

“Stop it,” the words flew from her mouth without warning and Chan blinked, head tilting with confusion, “What? Stop what?”

“Stop...looking at me like that,” she finished her sentence in a mumble while she averted her eyes in growing embarrassment.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re going to cry.”

“I’m not!”

“There are tears in your eyes!”

“N-No there aren’t!” And he quickly wiped at his face before angling his head to the side, “why would I cry for you?”

“You tell me.”

“Well I’m not!” He turned away to walk down the driveway in a huff, “bye now!”

“Ugh bye loser!”

Micha turned so quickly she almost smacked her face onto her front door, hurriedly trying to erase the image of Chan’s back walking away from her before she broke down into a pool of hot tears.

She didn't want to think about that. Didn't want to linger upon the way her throat seemed to choke up as she fought the emotion--

"Micha?”

Chan’s voice. It floated between them, a lingering question. The said girl felt rooted in place, fighting the tears gathering at the corners of her eyes.

And when she turned, she was met with his arms lacing around her middle to pull her close.

His chin on her shoulder, head pressed against hers. Holding her tight.

“Video calls every week,” he murmured, “at least one text per day.”

"What are you? My boyfriend?”

“Micha.”

“Fine, fine.”

Chan's warmth felt like sunshine on her back. If she closed her eyes hard enough she could travel back to that very moment she allowed herself to be swayed back and forth in those strong arms of his.

In the weeks following the start of their final year Micha had plunged headfirst into her studies to avoid the slow build-up of homesickness crawling through her heart. And the more work piled up, the less she found time to update Chan on her life. What with her endless hours spent in the library and the small bursts of freedom that she spent with her course mates, it made it close to impossible to sit down and have a proper talk.

So when Chan video-called her one day, her burst of excitement was soon rendered to something akin to annoyance when the only reason was to tell her about Ayeong’s visit to his campus. She couldn’t ignore the slight sting of jealousy coating the back of her tongue as he blabbered off like an excited child, eyes shining and all.

“I think I might ask her out at the end of this week,” he grinned with dreamy eyes, “I think there’s definitely something.”

“Good for you.”

He’d noticed her irritation, as if there was an itch under her skin she couldn’t quite reach, “You okay, Mi? I didn’t even get to ask--”

“I’m fine,” she snapped and softened almost instantly when hurt flashed through his face, “I’m sorry,...just stressed out.”

“Hey,” concern immediately clouded his features over, “you gotta take care of yourself too. Are you eating well? Sleeping well?”

A sigh of frustration escaped his lips when she’d shook her head reluctantly, “Don’t make me come over. You know I can do that.”

“That would be nice,” came her mumble which didn’t reach his ears, for he asked, “What?”

“Nothing,” she sighed, brushing off the wistful thoughts swimming inside her head and focusing back on Chan’s face at the other end of the screen, “keep me updated with the Ayeong thing.”

She’s not right for you, her brain seemed to scream.

But Ayeong did. She did say yes.

And Micha wasn’t sure why she was feeling so bitter about it.

. ° ☆ ° .

"Please sign here, miss.”

Micha’s surprised orbs quickly flitted up from the large cardboard box to the postman’s clipboard being shoved in her face, “Uh--sure.”

She scrawled her initials, gave back the clipboard with a muttered ‘thanks’ before the postman shoved the box in her arms and walked away without even giving her a second glance.

Had she ordered something online by accident? That wouldn’t be surprising. Since midterm season, time had been irrelevant to Micha, flowing like a ticking time bomb the more the days approached towards her final deadlines.

To say that she was a walking corpse on campus was not an understatement.

She got her answer a few minutes later when she answered the phone from a very excited, puppy-like Chan.

“Did you get it?!” he bellowed with barely contained excitement. Still wrapped up in his blankets with his hair dishevelled and his eyes barely open, Micha couldn’t help but grin at the comical picture he presented, “did you get the package?”

“By package, you mean this big-ass box?” Micha turned the camera to the floor, causing him to squeal like a child who got his Christmas presents early.

“Oh nice! Open it, come on!”

“Chan, I swear if it’s something like one of those scary muppets you like so much--”

“You have so little faith in me.”

“Can you blame me when you were the one who put salt in my coffee?”

“It was just to experiment.”

“That coffee was of good quality!”

“Just open it."

She tore open the package while grumbling under her breath at how bossy he was being, cracked open the box to blink at the different flavours of tea filling it up to the brim.

“You--” she couldn’t help the laughter from bubbling up her throat, “you got me tea?”

“Wait--unless I got this wrong -- you like tea right?”

His panicked tone made her burst out in even more laughter, “Oh my god Chan!”

“You always tell me to spill the tea--I was just trying to be punny.”

“It’s--Oh my god--” she doubled over laughing and Chan joined in with giggles of his own, “Chan, you’re so bad.”

“Admit it, it’s funny.”

“It’s lame!”

She grinned back at her phone as warmth spread through her middle. It was admittedly in moments like these that she missed Chan the most. The longing to see him suddenly surged through her with such ferocity in the form of tears slowly brimming at the corner of her eyes and she had to turn away while changing the subject.

“Got any plans this weekend?” she asked while looking over the various flavours of tea.

“Oh didn’t I tell you? Ayeong’s coming.”

She almost choked on her own spit. Right. She’d forgotten about the whole Ayeon situation and Chan hadn’t updated her since then.

"We’re spending the weekend together, I think I might bring her to the aquarium. Oh, I was gonna ask you -- what do girls like on their first dates?” his face was now alight with such a joyful glow, a spark in his eyes, that it almost hurt to look at him.

“Does Ayeong like aquariums to start with?” Micha asked even if she secretly adored going to aquariums herself. It was admittedly a very romantic notion, to hold hands in the darkened rooms as you would watch the fish swim about.

Chan shrugged on the other side of the screen, “dunno, thought it might be romantic.”

You thought right, Micha’s subconscious responded, “what about just dinner?” she proposed, “maybe Ayeong wants to spend time talking. You know, getting to know each other.”

"Hm, true. Yeah, I might look up a good restaurant. Girls don't like fast foods do they? Or anything that makes them gain weight?"

The angry creature was slowly rousing in her stomach, growling, "how would I know?"

"Well, you're a girl."

"That's exactly what the lame redheaded sidekick in Harry Potter said."

"FYI, his name is Ron and he’s not lame."

"That's not the point I was trying to make."

"Michaaaa~" Chan whined, wriggling his shoulders with a pout, "I gave you tea, stop being mean to me."

But it was useless. All the giddiness that had erupted through her at his sweet gesture was eaten up by a bitter taste on her tongue and with that she hurriedly made up a petty excuse about having class before quickly cutting off the call.

She brought her phone to her chest as she looked down at the tea boxes with growing tiredness. That was probably it right? She was in a bad mood because she was tired.

Right?

. ° ☆ ° .

"I still don't get why we have to watch it with you," Micha grumbled, plopping down beside Felix's lanky frame on the couch and careful not to jostle the bowl of salted caramel popcorn in her hands.

"Because I can't be the only one who can't sleep tonight," Changbin stated dryly like that statement totally made sense. He plopped down on her other side while Jisung settled himself against Micha's legs, "if I go down, you go down with me."

Felix snorted, "that's just a nice way to say that he likes bullying us."

Midterms were over, meaning that reading week would be a pleasurable moment of calm and serenity before assignments picked up again. It was a liminal space between deadlines, a gap that Micha and the rest of her course mates had gladly welcomed with open arms. Being the movie fanatic that he was, Changbin had jumped at the chance of hosting movie night, much to the group's displeasure for they knew that his taste in entertainment was rather jarring. Sometimes violent. And sometimes, brought about nightmares that lasted a week.

"What are we watching again?" Jisung twisted his head to look at the trio, causing both Micha and Felix to shoot Changbin accusatory looks.

"The nun," Changbin replied.

Felix whistled as Jisung jumped up crying, "Do you want me to die?!"

"No. But do you mind if we sleep in the same room tonight?"

"Fuck you I'm out of here," Jisung was already scrambling to his feet when Micha's hand shot out, clamping down on his forearm, "oh no no no, you're going down with the rest of us, Han."

"Do you know how scary that movie is?!"

"Yes, which is precisely why we're going to murder Changbin once it's ov--"

Felix's phone sprang to life amidst the conversation, "oh Chan's calling!"

The group wasted no time squishing up, limbs entangling and elbows pushing onto ribs as they all crowded around Felix's small smartphone that he held at arm's distance before sliding his finger over the green button.

"Hey mate!" Felix's Australian accent slipped out the moment Chan's face appeared onscreen and Micha would've lied to say it didn't sting a little seeing her best friend's face after so long.

"What's up Felix? Oh you're all here?" Chan's grin widened.

" Changbin's forcing us to watch the Nun with him," Micha said.

" Tattletale," muttered the said hooded-eyed man as he shoved her head. Micha laughed.

" And you? What are you up to?" Felix asked while Jisung was struggling to push Changbin's arm to get into the camera frame, " Bin, fucking move."

"Language."

" Oh I'm with Ayeong right now. Hyunjin and Minho are playing FIFA," Chan moved the camera around until Ayeong's petite face came into view, causing a knot to form in Micha's abdomen.

"Hello!"

" Ayeong! Lookin' good!"

" How's Channie treating you?"

" Has he farted in front of you yet?"

" Guys!" Chan's checks proceeded to flood with colour while the said young woman giggled in the background.

" As a matter of fact, he's been nothing but respectful."

Ugh. She was so sweet that it made Micha feel sick in her stomach. But as though Ayeong had read her mind, she immediately asked, "Micha, are the guys treating you well? How's your thesis coming along? Chan tells me you practically live in the library."

" What?” Jisung snorted, “that's not true, she--"

Micha elbowed him before he could splutter out the truth when she had been lying to Chan all along and blabbered out, “Yeah I've been trying to finish my thesis in time because the first deadline is in two weeks. And you? How’s your internship at the hotel going?”

Micha was thankful when Ayeong chatted on about her experience as a hotel management trainee at one of the best hotel chains in the country. It was a close call and she smacked Jisung some more for good measure, throwing him a narrow-eyed glare which he returned with a scowl of his own, rubbing the sore spot on his arm.

As the conversation moved on to the topic of the holidays, Micha’s eyes automatically drifted to the diminished space between Chan and Ayeong’s shoulders, noticed the way he kept leaning back with his arm slowly crawling its way to Ayeong’s backside. Something tugged at her heartstrings, caused her to swallow hard. It was clear from the obvious grin on her best friend’s face that he was the happiest he’d ever been since...well, since.

All Micha wanted was to be happy for Chan. Genuinely happy.

Not the kind of happiness that made her wish she was miles away and blind, not the kind that made her chest ache and her heart hurt as though someone had just gutted her insides out.

At some point, she excused herself and walked out into the backyard, hands shoved in the pockets of her hoodie as she looked up into the murky, cloudy sky above. How long had it been since they’d last spoken? There was no one to blame for that. They were both sprinting at a hundred miles an hour and she couldn’t blame Chan for falling so hard, so quickly, too quickly for a girl that was so easy, so loveable. Ayeong was the perfect match for him, now that Micha thought about it.

And plus, Chan had been talking about her for ages.

But she still didn’t get it. Still didn’t understand why it constantly felt as though someone was slapping reality in her face.

Over and over again.

“Micha!”

Felix’s head popping out from the kitchen doorway made the said young woman swivel around, quickly rearranging her features in a cold mask of indifference, “Chan wants to talk to you.”

“Why?”

Even in the dark she saw Felix’s eyebrow quirk up, “you’re asking?”

That was stupid, Micha’s subconscious rolled her eyes as she reluctantly trudged to the kitchen door and grabbed the phone from Felix’s hold. She waited for the door to close behind her before lifting the camera to her face.

“What?”

Chan’s arms were crossed in an attempt to appear mad, though they both knew it would take a lot more to ignite that anger in him, “ Well hello there, stranger. Nice of you to show your face after weeks of going off radar. No messages, no phone calls. We were supposed to call every week. What have you got to say for yourself?”

In any normal circumstances Micha would’ve shot back with a witty comeback without thinking as she usually did. That was the nature of their relationship after all; that endless bickering, that back and forth sibling relationship that made her feel so at ease in her skin that she sometimes forgot Chan wasn’t even part of her family.

Right now though, she felt her free hand twitch, index finger pressing onto her thumb as she nervously grated at her skin.

Biting onto her bottom lip, the only thing she managed to muster out was, “sorry.”

Surprise flashed through Chan’s face. There was a heavy silence for a minute.

“Micha,” Chan murmured, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

" Sure. Care to tell me what 'nothing' is about?"

"Chan, please," She rubbed a tired hand over her face, " I'm just not feeling it today."

He stared at her for a whole minute. Micha felt herself starting to squirm.

" Okay," he mumbled out, " Okay."

Regret instantly bit at her subconscious. She loathed the slight disappointment on his face and in a half- hearted attempt to lighten the mood, she quickly veered into another subject and ignored the poignant stare he kept sending her way. She'd rather be oblivious than try and extort some coherent sense out of the tangled ball of feelings in her stomach.

When they said goodbye though, Chan leaned a little closer to the screen, an undecipherable expression on his face, " call me when you feel better."

Micha nodded and swallowed thickly.

" I mean it Micha," his voice was stern, " call me."

Maybe it was the guilt whispering at the back of her conscience, maybe it was the way she saw a flash of his face in a stranger's every time she walked the streets that made her reach out to Chan once more in the next few days after that, willing herself to make as much effort as he did. Because Chan deserved that much.

They would text in-between classes, a mixture of casual jokes and an exchange of anime-related jokes that he kept sending her and causing her to burst out laughing in the middle of her classes. But while she was glad to see that Chan had no grudges to her lack of response, she still tried to steer clear of mentioning Ayeong.

That was starting to become more and more problematic.

Chan: Ayeong is allergic to crab. Did you know that?!

Micha: No

Chan: we went to eat at that snack stand, the one near the skate park we used to go to. She blew up like a goldfish.

Micha would've given anything to see that ridiculous sight. That was quickly overtaken by the stubborn pang of jealousy at the thought of them going to places she visited so frequently with Chan.

It didn’t stop there.

A few days later, Chan had texted her about their dinner to his parents' house and her stomach dropped like she'd just fallen down an elevator shaft.

Chan: They loved her. They actually loved her. I think my heart is gonna explode.

Micha had to force out a reply:

Micha: what did your mum cook?

Chan: guess.

Micha: pork ribs and braised beef?

Chan: yess omg! You actually remember. Ayeong loved it. She eats a lot for her size. And dad sat her down after dinner to show off his chess awards. The nerd.

Micha: cool.

Thankfully, her internship started a few weeks later, which meant that it was easier to ignore the glow of happiness in Chan's face and the way he seemed to be drifting away from her arms, slipping through her fingers no matter how much she tried to grasp at the strings of their relationship -- or what seemed to be left of it.

"You sure you don't want to come back home for Winter Break?" Felix asked once when he'd turned up at her shared flat uninvited just as she was closing the door to hurry for her night shift. He’d followed her down the staircase, long legs easily matching her pace as she took two steps at a time.

“I can’t,” Micha replied breathlessly through her scarf, “I’ve got my internship.”

“Surely you can ask for a few days off? Just for Christmas?”

"Nope."

Beside her, Felix grumbled, "You're no fun."

"Never said I was."

Micha had to admit that the reason why it hadn't been as hard to ignore the growing hole in her heart where Chan was supposed to be was all due to the three young men standing by her side. As childish as they were, they all had good intentions and it made Micha's heart fill with warmth whenever they did make it obvious that they cared.

Her phone buzzed suddenly just as the pair reached the bus stop. She quickly fished it out of her bag, eyebrows pinching in a frown upon seeing her father's name flashing across the screen.

"Hello?" She gave Felix a shrug when he mouthed whether everything was okay from her side. Nothing.

She repeated, "hello? Pa? You there?"

"Micha."

Her frown deepened at the sound of her father's voice. He sounded breathless, a tone higher than his usual alto.

"Pa, what's wrong?"

"It's your mother. There was an accident."

. ° ☆ ° .

"What happened?"

Less than six hours later, Micha sat in the hospital corridor right outside her mother's room. She still had on her nurse uniform, completely dismissing all of her responsibilities and obligations the moment her father had informed her of her mother's accident.

If she were to be honest, she wasn't entirely sure how she'd managed to make it back without her knees giving away. But Felix had been there, a silent stone figure at her side as she'd thrown a bunch of clothes in a carry-on suitcase and grabbing the laptop from her shaky hands to book the earliest flight which was to depart in merely two hours.

Nothing had mattered then. Nothing but the need to see her mother and make sure that everything was fine. She didn't remember going through security, didn't even remember the plane taking off while gazing out of the window with a glazed look in her eyes and forcing down all the tears strangling her throat.

Micha's brain only came into focus the moment she was greeted by none other than her father’s face, heavy bags under his eyes and the tip of his nose red.

Multiple lacerations. A broken femur. Heavy concussion that might result in potential brain damage. Words that Micha knew off by heart, could recite them in her sleep if she wanted to. Words that she’d spent months and endless sleepless nights poring over.

Words that shot bullets through her, each one leaving an open wound.

“She was waiting for the bus.”

Her father’s voice, old and gravelled and shattered, brought her back to the reality of the hospital. His alto strung through the air of the corridor like a tightly coiled string about to snap.

Micha took a shaky breath.

“I...I was late. At the restaurant. Too many people,” all the time that her father spoke, his gaze was glued to the operation door where Micha’s mother laid as if he could will her back to good health if he stared at it hard enough, “So she went back home first because she had to feed the cat. That stupid cat...If it weren’t--If it weren’t for him she wouldn’t have gotten hit--” he choked on his words, “--by the bus.”

Cold dread threaded through Micha’s stomach and squeezed so tight she thought she would pass out. Her brain was already trying to put two and two together; finding the solution, figuring out the case, the damage. The solution, the--

“They said there’s little chance that she’ll wake up.”

Reality struck like cold ice.

“What...” her mouth was dry, “...percentage?”

“fifty-fifty.”

Her eyes slipped closed, squeezed tight. Silence trailed on with only the bustling sound of medical equipment and a hushed flurry of voices in the distance.

Do something, her brain screamed at her, just do something!

There was nothing she could do. Nothing. Her hands clamped into fists so hard her nails stung her palms. All she could do was wait.

So she did.

She must’ve dozed off at some point. Time seemed endless as the hours ticked by and by the time her mother was wheeled out, exhaustion was pulsating through her every muscle, her every limb. She stayed awake long enough to listen to the doctor’s statement, only to storm out in frustration upon realizing that there was no real answer and that the only thing that had been possible to do was stitch up her mother’s wounds as best as they could.

In short, the doctor himself didn’t know when she’d wake up.

Micha was so intent on walking out for some fresh air that she barely processed a familiar alto calling her name in the distance, until a pair of arms snatched her shoulders back.

She whipped around, “What?!--”

Her eyes fell upon Chan.

Time stopped. Her mouth parted.

Red-faced and with his beanie all the way down to cover himself from the cold, she would’ve barely recognized him if they were passerby’s on the street. But as he stood there with his runny nose and eyes that looked like they’d just cracked open, a wave of emotion hit Micha with such intensity that tears brimmed through her eyes.

“Felix told me what happened. I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner, I--”

And that was when Micha broke down into ugly sobs, legs giving away only to be saved by Chan’s arms wounding around her middle to pull her against his chest.

Amidst it all, she swore she heard her heart breaking.

She wasn’t sure whether it was because of her mother. Or because throughout it all, even in the worst of times, she had come to a realization that knocked the breath out of her.

She loved Chan.

. ° ☆ ° .

Tagging: @elysianxshepherd @maedesculpaeusoubi @missskzbiased @freckledquokka @allyg-onz

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suzumenokakimono · 4 years

Text

I was here first II

Pairing: Namjoon / Jimin x reader

Genre: AU, smut, fluff, angst, roommates to lovers, fwb, friends to lover

Summary: Jimin was your roommate, best friend and in love with you so bad it wasn’t even funny. His friends knew this all along and were surely surprised you’ve never noticed. But you didn’t. You were oblivious as the Earth was round. Now, Jimin decided it was time to finally confess to you. He asked one of his closest friends, Namjoon, to help him. But what if you end up liking Namjoon instead of Jimin?

Word count: 7k

A/N: Thank you, N.

While I was writing this, I realized what’s ‘wrong’ with my writing style but then also it hit me: not gonna change it.

Also, there is stuff going on in my head, hence the plot. * flies away *

Namjoon though.

Tagged: (as requested 💜: @ jinnfires)

Masterlist | Chapters: One | Two | Three (incoming)

-------

That was your favorite mug.

You remembered how you got it, actually. Jimin had broken your mug. The only mug you had brought with you when you’d moved in. It was really stupid, it was not even special to you. You just never bought anything more, never needed it to, to be honest.

Before you started to live with Jimin, your previous roommate had had a lot of stuff and she’d always let you use it. It was really convenient and you gladly took advantage of that. When she moved out, you were left with just your stuff, which was not a lot. Jimin always said you could use anything you wanted from his kitchen but it was nice to have something of your own. So when he broke your only mug, he immediately bought you a new one. He was feeling very bad about that and kept sending you tons of links to internet shops, asking what you would like. To finally make him stop crying over the whole situation, you’d picked one and you used it ever since. After those two years in this apartment, you got yourself more things, that you could call yours, but this one stayed as your favourite.

And now it was broken. You were standing in the middle of the kitchen and looking at the shattered pieces on the floor, not sure how that had happened. No. That was a lie. You knew exactly how it had happened, you just weren’t sure… how.

The morning started pretty ordinarily. It was a weekend so both you and Jimin didn’t have work and stayed at home. He was trying to convince you to go to the cinema or something, but looking at the weather you weren’t sure it was the best idea. You just wanted to stay inside. You decided to make yourself a nice tea and finally start reading that book you’d wanted to read for so long.

Jimin’s face leaned out from behind the door frame to check what was going on. He had heard the noise and wanted to make sure you were alright. He saw you standing in the kitchen and started to think he had misheard but then he noticed the mess on the floor. He didn’t have any issues with recognizing your mug. Or what was left of it.

“Did you just…?”.

You hadn’t even noticed him. When he spoke you turned around, surprised by his presence.

“Huh… what?”

“Did you just break the mug from me?”

For some reason he was pretty amused by this. Knowing what happened with the previous one and seeing what you did with the one he got you, was a little ironic.

“I can’t believe you broke THE MUG!”

He chuckled to himself but then he saw your face expression and just burst into laughter. You looked so surprised and out of place, for what the reason he assumed, was your accident with the mug. He started to help you clean up, since you were barefoot and could step into some smaller pieces and hurt yourself.

“What happened?”

“Um… sorry. I… got distracted. Shame…”

You really were sorry about that. One of the reasons you liked the mug was how you’d actually gotten it. The story was simple but there was a story and that’s what counted. You can’t say that very often about your everyday life’s items.

You helped Jimin with cleaning, making sure nothing stayed on the floor and took out one of his mugs from the cabinet. While doing so you were holding your phone in your other hand, looking intensely on its screen.

“So, what about the movie?”

“... movie? What movie?”

“Are you still not going?”

“No…”, you looked at your phone again. “Something came up.”

-------

When Jimin opened the door, it was around 6am. It was already getting bright outside but all he was thinking about was to sleep for the next week. He was exhausted and kind of dehydrated. Not being entirely conscious he went to the kitchen and just turned on the tap to drink some water. He twisted his head to the side and leaned over the sink. Cold, clean water ran down his throat and felt a little more alive than a few seconds ago. He promised himself, not for the first time to be honest, not to drink that much next time. Let’s face it. He was not going to quit drinking entirely. He just wanted not to feel half dead each morning after a fun, long night. That was never fun. The only plus of those situations was you, you taking care of him when he was in a state where crawling on the floor seemed like the only possible way of moving. You always complained but never denied helping him. It also gave you many possibilities of making fun of him.

He turned off the water and dried his face with a towel. He needed a shower but was too tired to care about that. Soft bed was calling for him. While passing by your room, he saw the door not entirely closed, so he quietly stepped closer to check up on you. You were sleeping in your bed, wrapped in your comforter like a burrito and snoring quietly. Your pretty dress was on a chair and shoes discarded separately on the floor. He saw your hair pointing out and this way he was sure you were okay. Namjoon did what he was asked to. He went to his room, feeling a little heavy, remembering again what had happened in the club and how his whole plan didn’t work out at all. He knew it was his fault that he backed out and just left you. But for him, the price was too big. What ifs were killing him this whole time and he decided he would not take this risk. He needed more time.

He closed your door behind him and went to his room. He had a lot of stuff to think about. Maybe a new plan to figure out. But not this morning. The only thing he needed and also wanted to do was sleep.

-------

It had been a week since you, Jimin and Namjoon went out. None of you mentioned the night very often, if at all. When you woke up the next day, you just wanted to die quietly without any distractions and minding silence in Jimin’s room, he was already dead. You both spent that time separately, doing your own stuff, doing everything that was necessary to survive. After that, you just got back to the normal life routine. You hadn’t found out what the meaning of that night was anyway, so you didn’t pay much attention to it.

No. That was a lie. You didn’t care much about the situation with Jimin. Sure, he’d acted weird and left you for some random girl in the club, but he was your friend and apparently he’d gotten back home safe. You did care, however, about the other guy. The one you met that night.

Namjoon didn’t give you any contact information, no phone number, no messenger options. When he’d left your room, he’d just disappeared and never tried to reach out to you. He’d left you with just a memory of him, him on top of you in your bed, groaning low in your ear. This image stayed in your head rent free and didn’t want to move out anytime soon. You didn’t remember everything. You lost a little track of the events after you both left the cab. But you were definitely sure you’d held his dick at some point. That was unmistakable.

Having this vividly in your mind, you tried to find him. The best way and probably the only way, was through Jimin. You’d started by asking him how work was, hoping he would mention his friend at some point. But he didn’t. So’d you tried to nonchalantly talk about your night out but it somehow ended up even worse. He’d changed the subject immediately, without any reason and had been avoiding it since then. You didn’t understand that, but nevertheless, you understood you wouldn’t get any information this way. Sighing heavily, you dropped it for a moment. You really liked Namjoon and wanted to see him again, but apparently you had to wait for something to happen or him to find you, because the universe was telling you to wait. So you waited.

It was Friday evening. You were looking for a movie to watch and you wanted to watch it in the living room. Jimin was writing to you the whole day how one of his annoying co-workers had a birthday and was insisting on going out later to a bar. He was nagging how he didn’t want to, but had to and was asking you for some good excuses to go back home. You liked the idea of spending the evening alone in your apartment so you refused and laughed at his response, when he realized you enjoyed his suffering. Sitting wrapped in a blanket on your living room couch, you were ready for tonight's film show, knowing very well your roommate wouldn't be home anytime soon.

-------

Jimin was sipping his beer without any enjoyment. He was forced to come to the bar and drink, and that took all the fun from being at the bar and drinking. He thought maybe pouring all possible alcohol straight down his throat would be a good solution to survive this ‘birthday party’ but then again he promised himself not to drink that much. At least, not as much as last time. Oh fuck, last time… Just thinking about it made him anxious and he immediately took a big sip. It’d been a week and he couldn’t get over it. He didn’t talk to anyone about that, he was embarrassed and so pissed at himself. He thought maybe hiding everything deep, deep inside him would just make it go away.

Namjoon sat next to him, pushing him to the side, forcing Jimin to make more space. He also got invited for the party, but was a little merrier than his friend. He was drinking some dark beer and looking around the crowd. One of their female colleagues tried to talk to him, he was pretty sure she was flirting, but after a few moments he found an excuse and ran away.

“She has nice legs.”, Jimin mumbled from his glass.

“Yeah, then go and talk to her. I’ll save your spot.”

“I don’t think she likes me. I think she likes you.”

“Bummer.”

“Why are you so defensive? You’re not madly in love with your friend, like me. Or are you?”

Of course Jimin had to mention you. He was drinking and was in a bad mood from the moment they’d entered the bar. This was the first time they actually talked with each other, since your night in the club. Jimin never got back to Namjoon, like he said he would. They were avoiding one another, for their own reasons, which they kept for themselves. Namjoon was seriously scared that everything that had happened between you two was perfectly noticed and his friendship with Jimin was ruined. He really didn’t want that but at the same time, he couldn't blame Jimin. So, when he’d come to the table to finally break the ice, he wasn’t sure what he was going to find. It had surprised him that Jimin didn’t seem to be angry.

“I’m not in love with you. You’re not my type. Too much penis.” Jimin snored at that excellent joke and got back to his drink. This was a good sign.

This past week hadn’t been easy. Avoiding his friend and distracting himself with anything that’s possible just to not think about you was pretty exhausting. He was actually happy someone had come up with the idea of going out to the bar. He needed to chill.

“I fucked this up, didn’t I?”, Jimin spoke out of the blue.

“No. Because you haven’t done anything.”, Namjoon said, without even thinking.

Jimin looked at his friend with an unspoken question, not sure what he meant. Namjoon swallowed hard. The fuck he’d just said that and started the whole conversation? He didn’t mean to say that! How the hell was this supposed to help to not think about you? This was already not going well.

“You’ve never actually tried, you know… talked to her…”, he started to sweat.

“Yes, exactly. I fucked this up, because I have no balls to try.”

“But… why?”

“I thought… maybe…”, he started to mumble. “I should first make her jealous, you know? By picking up someone else and she… would…”

“Make… her jealous? How the hell was she supposed to be jealous if she had no idea what was going on?”

“You know… She sees me with some hot chick, thinks, oh that could have been me…”

Namjoon smelled bullshit from a distance. Jimin was too smart to actually think this kind of shitty strategy would work. Plus, that had never been his plan for that night in the first place..

“Oh, cut the crap!”, Namjoon lost his patience and probably shouted too loud, Jimin looked at him, surprised. “What the hell really happened that night?”

Jimin stopped sipping his beer, trying to collect his thoughts. He was torned apart. He wanted to forget about everything and at the same time, needed to say everything that was eating him alive.

“I panicked.”, Jimin’s sight was glued to the table.

“That… I would call an understatement, at least.

“Remember when we were talking and… we started to look back on the day we met… She mentioned how I was drunk and falling from my chair… She turned to you…”

Namjoon froze in place. This was it. Jimin was about to say how him, his friend, stole the girl of his dreams. There was no turning back.

“She was talking about me like the biggest dork. She was laughing, not taking me seriously…”

Namjoon took a deep breath and wasn’t sure he understood. His mind was completely lost in connecting the dots.

“She’s seeing me as her friend. I was trying to be with her that night, like with the other girls, you know? I was flirting and touching her, she didn’t care at all. We both were drinking and yet… it wasn’t enough. That’s why I ran away.”

Jimin got back to sipping his drink, not looking at Namjoon. And if he had, he would’ve seen an absolutely blank page. Namjoon felt like his brain got a reset and he was sitting with a blue screen displayed for everyone watching. He never doubted that what he did back in the club was wrong, however he was certain Jimin had seen it and was about to kill him. Not noticing how he had been drooling all over you was pretty impossible. And yet, here he was, safe and sound. He narrowed his eyes in that moment, finally connecting the dots. You both were pretty dumb and blind when it came to feelings and reading someone else’s emotions.

“So… you got scared because she was laughing at something you did three years ago?”

“It sounds stupid, I know. But I felt really weird. Like, me doing that is all she can see. Like, that night defined me in her eyes. She sees me as a dork… nothing serious…”

“You’re not a dork.”, Namjoon sighed heavily. This conversation was pretty weird and was making him nervous. However, what made him slightly relaxed was that, one problem was already solved: Jimin was absolutely oblivious about that night.

“I know I am. And she knows I am.”

“Maybe she likes dorks?”, why the fuck did he say that?!

“I actually don’t know what her type is.”

I’m her type.

“Did she date anyone, after moving in with you?”

“I’m not sure… I think there was a guy or two… nothing really serious.”

“You’ve never talked about this? Never gossiped about your lovelife?”

“We did, but she was always more curious about mine, since I did bring some girls a few times. She was always asking why a handsome guy like me doesn’t have a girlfriend”, Jimin smiled to himself after a word handsome. He liked when you called him that.

“She thinks you’re handsome.”

“And she doesn’t like me.”

But she likes me.

Namjoon mentally slapped himself for that.

“What about the other girl?”, he desperately wanted to change the subject.

Talking about you, in a perspective of you liking Jimin or not, was killing him. You were on his mind all the time anyway, since you’d met. And he had to hide that. He started to have problems with being a good friend and supporting Jimin with his crush and his efforts to win you over.

“What girl?”

“The one you were making out when you left us. Y/A saw the two of you at the bar.”

“There’s not much to talk about.”, Jimin looked flustered. He turned his head away.

“Why? Did you go with her and something went wrong?”

“No… it’s….”

“Did she laugh at you? You couldn’t do it? You were too drunk? You fell asleep in the middle?”

“Are you having fun?”

“Yes, yes I am!”

Jimin looked at Namjoon, waiting for another assumption about his night. But none of them came, he stopped making stuff up after seeing his friend's expression.

“It’s nothing like that. I didn’t go with her.”, Jimin sighed.

“I’m a little confused now. You ditched Y/A for some random chick and then you just… came home?”

“No. I… “

“What? What the fuck happened?”

“I went to the internet caffe and played Overwatch.”

Namjoon snorted so much his beer came right through his nose. However, he admitted it was worth it. He would have never expected Jimin to say something like that.

“I’m sorry, you did what?”

“Ugh… Yes, we made out a little but I wasn’t in the mood. I was thinking about Y/A the whole time and it… it just didn’t feel right.”

“You were thinking about Y/N while making out with another girl?”

“I forgot how big of a dipshit you can be, you know?”

You have no idea.

-------

The doorbell woke you up from the deepest moment of your dream. When you lifted your head you weren’t sure where you were, what was going on or who you were. You needed a moment to recover and another ring to finally get up. Blindly you reached out to your nightstand and grabbed your phone.

2:05 am. Who the fuck was that?

You had gone to sleep some time ago, knowing Jimin had his own keys and he would help himself with opening the door. You were not expecting anyone, especially at this time, so while still being a little asleep you were very hesitant to open the door. You looked through the visor on the door but it was too dark to determine anything. But there was someone there, for sure.

Another ring made you jump in place. Someone was really stubborn and didn’t want to let this go. So, hoping nobody doing this kind of noise would try to kill you, you slowly turned the locks and looked at what was waiting for you in the corridor.

First you saw Namjoon. He was standing right in front of the door, basically leaning into it. He barely looked at you because all his attention was on another person hanging on his shoulder. And that person was Jimin.

You looked first at Namjoon, then at your roommate, then again at his friend. Many questions were growing inside your head, you were fully awake at this point.

“What…?”

You tried to articulate one of them, but it died before it left your mouth. Was Jimin unconscious? You just pointed at him, which was worth a thousand words.

“I’m sorry… I couldn’t find his keys. He said they’re in his pocket but… I’m not gonna…

He moved a step forward, trying to get to the apartment, without bumping into you. You shook your head, realizing you were blocking his way. You moved away to make the corridor clear but Namjoon didn’t go any further.

“Can you… help me?”

You immediately got to the other side of Jimin and put his arm on your shoulder. You felt his weight on you and a second after that you smelled all the alcohol he drank at the bar. He was indeed unconscious. His body felt like a ragdoll, it was really hard to get him into his room, but both of you somehow managed to. His feet were dragging along on the floor while you pulled him through the corridor. You threw him on his bed, which was a little too rough, but he didn’t react in any way.

“I think this time he might be dead.”, Namjoon was standing next to you.

“Possibly.”

You sighed heavily. You knew what was coming so you jumped out to the bathroom and brought a big plastic bowl. You put it next to Jimin’s bed, just in case he woke up and decided he didn’t like all the alcohol he had in his body. And food. And his insides. You assumed him waking up would be a very dramatic moment.

“That’s clever. I don’t think he’ll aim for that anyway, but at least we tried.”, Namjoon didn’t fool himself. If Jimin woke up, he would be half dead and puking into the bowl would be the last thing on his list.

You both left the room. You were trying to act quietly, even though there was no such force that could have woken up Jimin in this state. You closed the door behind you and looked at Namjoon. Before, you smelled alcohol because of your friend. He drank like there was no tomorrow, for sure. But Joon did not say no to drinks as well. He was not as drunk as your roommate but he was swaying in place, not able to focus his sight on you.

“Are you feeling ok?”

“I’m fine… I just need to lay down…”, he was a little embarrassed and wanted to go home and sleep.

“Do you want some tea?”, you asked, already being on your way to the kitchen. On your way you brushed your hand on his arm, trying to pretend that was an accident, didn’t mean much.

Namjoon didn’t say anything. He just watched you going, focusing on how you were swaying your hips, followed you and after a few seconds.

“Tea sounds perfect.”

He was watching while you were jumping around and making him and yourself a tea. Yet again he saw you in a different light than before. When he stood still, holding the door frame for support, he focused on the way you looked. He remembered you in your pretty dress and makeup. Well, also without a dress. But this time you were just in your pajama shorts and a simple loose T-shirt. Your hair was tied up on top of your head and you were definitely not wearing any makeup. Even though his vision was not the best at that time, he decided you looked very pretty with a bare face.

When the tea was ready, you grabbed both mugs by their handles and just took them to the living room, giving him an unspoken direction to do the same. Namjoon followed you again and you both sat on the couch. He felt much better sitting, it made him feel more sure he wouldn’t fall down. Or at least from his seat, there was a much shorter trip to the floor.

“Party was that good?”, you asked.

“Afterparty, maybe.”

“After-what? Why did you need that?” “It was Jimin’s idea. He… didn’t have much fun at the birthday party, so we went somewhere else just to… well, drink. We didn’t plan to stay long… and that part of the plan worked out.”

Namjoon seemed a little tired. He leaned his head on the back of the couch and closed his eyes. Was he falling asleep? You took that opportunity and looked at him. He wasn’t wearing his beanie this time. His natural dark hair was short and dyed to a blonde color, shaved at the bottom and slightly underneath into a nice undercut. It really suited him and you were fighting with the urge to brush your fingers through his hair. You imagined how it would feel under your fingertips. Probably very soft. His grey hoodie was a little loose on his body, you’d noticed he liked a little baggier clothes. He’d matched it with light jeans and red converse.

Somehow, you missed him and wanted him to stay. Even just to talk with you. You were pinching yourself to start a conversation, any conversation, you didn’t want him to leave.

“You know, after that fun night in the club you disappeared… I haven’t heard from you… ”

Namjoon opened his eyes and looked at you. It definitely helped him wake up.

“I…”, he wasn’t sure what to say.

He had been avoiding you. Not that you’d had many occasions to actually meet. But he was trying to forget about a pretty girl that he really liked but very well knew, his friend was in love with. He had to remind himself of that all the time. The whole evening with Jimin was not helping at all. Getting in touch with you, after all that had happened the night you met was a very bad idea.

“I didn’t want to bother you. We’ve barely met and I thought that… we’re not that close, so it doesn’t matter.”

“What does that mean?”

“We’re not friends… we don’t have to hang out… you know... “, he had no idea what he was talking about.

“We’re not but you’re Jimin’s friend. You can’t run away from him.”

“I didn’t run away from you.”

“But you did avoid me?”

“Yes. NO!”, his brain was malfunctioning. He pulled himself up, grabbed his tea and took a sip. It burned his tongue a little but was a great distraction.

“You don’t like me?”

“NO!”, he almost jumped in his place and spilled his tea on his legs. “What? Of course not! I do!”

You laughed at his reaction.

“I like you too.”

You smiled at him, blushing a little. You took your mug from the coffee table to distract yourself from the embarrassment that was attacking you. He didn’t miss that. He was still a little buzzed but you talking to him was keeping him awake. He was watching you intensely, trying to remember how you’d looked that night. He put his mug away, to avoid spilling tea anywhere and leaned his head back on the couch sliding down a little in his seat. He wasn’t sure if he was getting sleepy again or whether your presence was affecting him this way. Whatever it was, a nice warm feeling spread through his body after your small confession. He smiled back at you, which made you even more flustered and you almost hid your face in your mug.

“Ah… you know… after all that happened, I was pretty sure you actually don’t want to see me.”

“But, why? Did I do something stupid? Did I… fall asleep while we were…?”

“No, we didn’t do anything! When I put you into bed you were already sleeping.”

“I actually wanted to ask, did I fall asleep while we were kissing.”, you giggled. You remembered Namjoon left before anything happened.

“Oh, then, my answer would be yes!”, he smiled with his cute smile, showing his dimples. A shy blush also showed up on his cheeks.

“Huh, I think I drank a little too much.”

“That’s fine. It’s not like I was sober. I was there too.”

“Yes… yes, you were.”, you looked into his eyes. “I was drunk, half naked and you rolled me into my comforter and left.”

Namjoon’s breath hitched for a second. Your straightforward statement made him remember how that had actually happened, that everything he had in his head really took place.

You on the bed, him on top of you. He tried to get up, you held him. He was trying to leave, you took off your dress. Later he was trying to convince himself that it didn’t happen, he didn’t see you naked waist up, that his hard dick wasn’t…

“... yeah, you took that dress off…”, he drifted off for a moment, looking in your direction, but not at you. Images were flashing right in front of his eyes.

Then he heard you laughing.

“I did take my dress off”, you hid your face in your hands. Your expression changed in one second, again.

Namjoon snorted right after you. Talking about this was making him a little nervous. He felt his hands starting to sweat. You were sitting close to him, with your legs on the couch, one arm spread behind his head. Your shorts riled up your thighs showing even more skin. Loose T-shirt hanging on your shoulder, making your collarbone very much visible.

You put your mug back to the table and moved closer to him.

“We were both drunk, but I do remember most of it.”, you knew you were blushing, but didn’t want that to stop you.

“... I… maybe half of it.” he lied. He remembered everything.

“I can’t stop thinking about what if…”

He swallowed hard. He looked at your lips. Your hand behind his head found his hair and played with it nonchalantly. He was pretending he didn’t notice. You scratched your neck with your other hand and glued his sight to your skin. He remembered everything.

“What if what?”

“What if we slept together? It’s not like we’re in relationships, so we wouldn't be doing anything wrong… right?”

“I don’t have a girlfriend…”, he shook his head a little to emphasize this.

“Me neither. Or a boyfriend.”, you smiled.

You were getting closer and closer. He felt a hint of a fruit scent. Was that your shampoo? Your finger touched his neck. Very lightly, but a shiver went down his spine. Your touch was hot on his skin and he immediately started to want more.

Fuck.Fuck.Fuck.

You took your hand away, like you realised what you were doing and that was way too far and too fast. For a second you panicked, a train of thoughts was attacking you and you felt like you were the only one that was trying to do something there. Like you were the only one who felt the spark and wanted to use it. Like he didn’t want you anymore.

He raised his head a little, he looked straight into your eyes, his mouth was slightly open.

You were wrong. You were so fucking wrong.

You leaned into him and you kissed him without another word. He didn’t oppose at all. After all, if you hadn't, he would have done that himself. He cupped your face and pulled you closer. One of his hands wandered to your neck. He also felt yours on his, it went straight back to its place where it had been before. He tasted like beer and tea at the same time. You felt the alcohol in his breath but didn’t care much. You took his lower lip between yours and sucked. You felt him smiling, he liked that.

One of his hands grabbed your T-shirt and pulled you closer to him. It made you lose your balance and you put your hand on his chest for support. He didn’t stop though. He was trying to get you as close as possible.

Without thinking much, you straddled his lap, putting one leg on each side of his hips. His hands were immediately on your bare thighs. Kneading the flesh he moved them up, right on your ass. Grabbing you shorts, he pulled them right up, putting both of your ass cheeks on display. Holding them, made you move closer and spread your legs wider. You sat right up above his crotch, feeling his hardening dick under your thigh.

Grabbing his hoodie and by pulling it up you urged him to raise his hands, to take it off. He was wearing a simple white T-shirt beneath it. Tight enough to show his slim body and wide shoulders. He didn’t give you much time to appreciate it. Both of his hands were on your neck and pulled you back to him. He was kissing you like crazy, with his tongue exploring your mouth, not giving you any moment to take a breath. One of his hands slid down your shoulder and was going down, until he found the hem of your T-shirt. You felt his fingers on your stomach, shyly first. He was tasting the waters, making sure you were ok with that. Shortly after his whole hand was holding you around your ribcage with his both hands. Circling his thumbs under your breasts, he was slowly moving them up after he found your nipples.

“I want to see them again.”, his voice was so low, you barely recognized it.

You whispered a soft “OK” to him and he moved his hands up. T-shirt hooked on his wrist moved up with them. He put it through your head and hooked it on your neck. He didn’t have to do more. He got what he wanted. When he was undressing you, you lifted your hips up and he made you stay that way. Your breasts were right in front of his face and without hesitation he attached his lips to one of them. He licked your nipple, making his tongue flat he slid it up and down, making you moan. He looked up to you, wanting to see your facial expression, wanting to see how much you enjoyed that. He pinched your second nipple which made you whine even louder and his cock even harder. He remembered those sounds, now even more vivid to him, when he wasn’t that drunk.

While still working your breast with his mouth, his hand moved down, across your thigh, slowly getting closer to your center. THe loose hem of the leg of your shorts gave him easy access to you. His fingers found your core, still covered with your cotton panties, circling it, trying to get inside. Moving them to the side he finally felt how wet you were.

“Oh fuck… baby, is this all for me?”

You felt a heat rushing through your body. His words made you flustered for some reason, like saying it made it even more real and undeniable. You didn’t know what to say so you blindly shifted your hand to his crotch and found his cock. You started to palm him through his pants, which made him groan. You felt his hot breath and tongue on your skin. But it wasn’t enough. His fingers found your clit and started to slowly move up and down. You made a noise which gave him the perfect confirmation he was doing a good job. Without any further delay you unzipped him and shoved your hand into his pants. He was already hard and precum was gathering on his tip. He slowed his movements when he felt your hand on him, a little unsure what your next move was. You slid his pants and boxer shorts down and freed him. His hard dick slapped into his stomach and you immediately grabbed it and started to pump him. Your hand was sliding on his soft skin, smearing the precum all over him. He started to breathe loud and move his hand on you again.

You were so wet, you felt it on your thighs. He was touching your clit, sometimes circling it, something sliding up down, left and right. One of his fingers slid inside of you, feeling no resistance. After that the second one joined him, making you stretch a little. You barely felt it. When he started to move them in and out of you, your hips joined them, copying his pace. You didn’t forget about this cock in your hand. He bucked up into your fist when you sped up. He wasn’t able to focus on your nipples anymore. His face landed between your breast, his hot breath made a drop of sweat gather right there. He was whispering sweet nothings to you, you didn’t even understand them.

You were already chasing your orgasm. The very well known feeling started to build in your stomach and you were desperate to feel it. His fingers were doing wonders on you, circling your clit in a steady pace. You moved your hips closer but his other hand grabbed your hip and held you. You leaned towards him, hid your face in his neck, kissing and sucking the skin. You were focusing on the pleasure he was giving you but still wanted to return the favour. You speed up the pace of your own hand, squeezing his dick hard and making him moan right into your ear. He was getting close like you. You focused on the tip, circling with your thumb on his slit, wanting to make him cum. He was starting to breath faster and louder, squeezing your hip, digging his fingers into your flesh.

Then you heard it. A loud noise, which snapped you from your bliss and made your high disappear in a blink of an eye. He’d heard it too. His hand between your legs froze, but still stayed in place.

“Was that… from Jimin’s room?”, you asked, completely confused.

Sweat on Namjoon’s face ran down his cheek and ended up on this neck. He was as confused as you were. He’d heard it too and had no idea what that was.

“I-I need to check that.”

When you moved to leave his lap, he whined and grabbed your hand. He didn’t want to stop, he was so close. His own hand was still in your panties, fingers wet with your arousal ready to get back to work and get you off. You were so tempted to go for it, ignore the noise and forget about everything. But you heard it again. This time you were certain it was from Jimin’s room. He probably woke up.

You had no other choice but to leave Namjoon’s hard dick alone and stand up. He didn’t like that idea but he finally let you go. His hand left your center and went straight to his mouth. He put his fingers inside and sucked them clean, while looking into your eyes the whole time. This time you whined loudly and cursed Jimin for this.

When you were on your legs again, you put your T-shirt down and went to your roommate’s room. Before you opened the door, you felt Namjoon behind you, his hand landed on your shoulders. You both got inside and discovered Jimin was nowhere to be found. His bed was empty,

“... da fuck…”

And for some reason, Jimin’s pants were on the floor. You had no memory of undressing him, or Namjoon doing that. Did he wake up and take them off? What for? And how? You both were shocked, until you went around the bed and found him on the floor. He was laying on his stomach, with one hand twisted in a very uncomfortable angle, wearing his T-shirt and boxer shorts. The plastic bowl you left for him was pushed away, but still empty.

You kneeled next to him, checking if he was okay. He was still breathing, but he left unconscious. Namjoon came to you and helped you to put him on his bed again. You rolled him on his back and covered him with a comforter. He was safe again, although you were really puzzled about what had just happened. You were pretty sure Jimin would not remember this, he was way too drunk, so there was no chance you’d find out anyway. You sighed, put the bowl back to its place and left the room, with Namjoon following you.

When both of you were outside, you quietly closed the door yet again. You felt Namjoon’s hand on you, how he grabbed you by your shoulder and turned you around to him. Your back hit the wall and his body was pressed into yours immediately, pushing air from your lunges. He grabbed your breast and squeezed it, pushing you even harder into the wall. His kiss was long and passionate but when he detached his lips he just stayed like that, looking at you through his lashes.

‘Why the hell do you have to be such a good kisser?”, he whispered into your lips.

You felt his boner on your stomach and reached out to touch him again. But he moved away. He kissed you one last time and took a step back. Still looking at you, took a deep breath and turned to the living room. Your mind was still hazy with the intense make out, so you didn’t follow him on the spot. But when you did, he wasn’t sitting on the couch but standing in front of the coffee table. He took his tea and started to drink. In one take, he finished it and put the empty mug back. After that he took his hoodie, walked past you, opened the door and left.

It was the second time he was leaving you like this.

------

“What came up?”, Jimin put a bag of tea in your mug and poured boiling water. You both smelled the scent of green tea. “I thought you’re free today.“

“I am. I-I just don’t want to leave the house tonight.”

“It’s barely noon. You can still change your mind.”

“Yeah, yeah…”

You started to rummage through another cabinet, looking for some cookies. But you couldn’t stop looking at your phone’s screen. Jimin was watching you and noticed how much you were distracted. No wonder you'd broken THE MUG.

“Why are you staring at your phone like that?”

Automatically you did it again. Unread messages’ thumbnails looked at you, asking why you hesitate to read their whole content.

With a loud crash you closed the cabinet, took your phone and headed to your room.

“I’m going to my room. I need to take care of this.”

Without any more explanation, you took your tea, left the kitchen and locked yourself in your room. When left alone, you took a deep breath and finally unlocked your phone.

Messages on your phone manifested in front of you and at the point you were certain you read them correctly at the first time.

Unknown [12:36]: You know, I’ve been thinking… We should drink some tea together again

Unknown [12:36]: I’d love to see what next is gonna happen with us in one room

Unknown [12:40]: It’s Namjoon btw

雀

#bts #bts smut #bts x reader #bts imagine #bangtan #bangtan smut #bangtan x reader #bangtan imagine #namjoon #kim namjoon #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon imagine #jimin #jimin smut #jimin x reader #jimin imagine

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moonlit-imagines · 4 years

Text

New Idol

Peter Parker x Stark!sib!reader

warnings: *insert frowny face here*

a/n: this is a stark!sibling imagine!! PLATONIC. if i keep writing postmortem fics are you guys gonna be okay

prompt: after the death of tony stark, few people felt what peter was feeling and fewer could help him out down the line

The death of Tony Stark was felt around the world, but others couldn’t have imagined the way his family had been affected by this tragedy. He was your only brother and he did a damn good job at it, you owed him.

“Hey, Pepper.” You walked into the cabin with grocery bags in each hand and kicked the door shut behind you. Pepper turned around and let out a grateful sigh.

“Thank you so much for going shopping for us, it’s just been so stressful ever since...” Your sister-in-law began to explain, but trailed off before saying anything else just in case Morgan was nearby.

“It’s no problem at all, Pep. I understand.” You set the bags down in the kitchen and heard little footsteps from above that moved across the upper floor and down the stairs.

“Aunt/Uncle Y/N!” Morgan rushed down the steps, nearly slipping before jumping off the last two and barreling towards you with a sweet little giggle that seemed to be contagious.

“Morgan, what did I tell you about jumping down the steps?” Pepper gently inquired while your niece gave her an innocent frown.

“It’s dangerous...” She mumbled as you leaned down to hoist her up on your hip.

“What’s up, Squirt?” You poked her on the nose and watched her face scrunch up. “Anything exciting going on today?” You asked.

“I had a tea party in the backyard.” She told you. “But it started raining.”

“Oh, no! Is everyone safe?” You went on and watched as Morgan quickly nodded, but you looked over her shoulder to see Pepper appear to be waiting for you. You slowly set your niece down on the floor and gave her a kiss on the head. “Why don’t you go upstairs so Mommy and I can talk for a minute? I’ll meet you there.” Morgan complied and raced up the stairs while you went to go sit with Pepper on the couch.

“Can I...ask another favor?” Pepper hesitantly said, piquing your interest. You cocked your eyebrow and waited for her to go on, but sometimes she was distracted by how similar you and Tony acted. “Right, well, he told you about Peter, right?”

“The Spider-Boy, yeah.” You followed along with a nod and let her go on.

“Yes, him.” She took a sip of her coffee and quietly smacked her lips. “I was wondering if you could maybe help him out. He needs a mentor and he...he took my husband’s death pretty hard. Tony told me he had just lost his uncle a few months before they had met.” Pepper teared up at all of her racing thoughts and covered her face as she began to cry. You leaned in to comfort her, rubbing her back and agreeing to the favor she had asked.

“I can do it, Pepper. You don’t have to worry about it. Just focus on you and Morgan, for now. I’ll be here whenever you need me, okay?” You assured her and let her cry on your shoulder. “I miss him, too.”

—————

You showed up to an apartment building in Queens, searching for the correct door to knock on. Here it is.

It wasn’t like you Starks to get uncomfortable before social interaction, it was supposed to be your strong suit, but the invincibility that you used to feel had faded away after you lost your brother. You finally raised your fist to give the door a few taps and waited for it to open. You heard the chain and deadbolt unlock and were greeted by Peter’s aunt. She recognized you immediately, but still fell speechless.

“Hi, Ms. Parker. Is Peter home?” You politely smiled and watch her open the door all the way, trying not to trip over her words.

“He—yes, Peter, he’s here.” She shut the door behind you and paused. “Peter!” She shouted. “You have a visitor!” Shortly after that, Peter ran out of his bedroom and looked puzzled at the sight of you.

“Hi.” His voice got really quiet.

“Hi.” You replied. “Pepper asked me to come see you. I was wondering if we could have a little chat?” You watched Peter exchange a look with his aunt, who gave him an “okay” nod.

“Yeah, that’s cool.” The young hero led you over to the new couch they’d gotten after everything they had was lost in the Blip. It was pretty comfy, you were wondering where you could get one like that. “What did Miss Potts—I mean, Mrs. Stark...want you to come here for?” Peter curiously asked, leaving you to contemplate your answer. You didn’t want this to seem like some sort of charity, pity to Peter. You genuinely wanted to be there for him. You had some qualifications after your short time with the Avengers and your many years of being Tony’s sibling. You could do this. You could do this.

“I...wanted to know if you’d be open to the idea of...” You stopped to look at Peter’s concerned expression, it really did remind you of Tony. God, he touched so many lives, how could this get any harder? “Would you consider letting me around for your ‘spidering?’” You tried to put it the best way you could, trying not to cringe at yourself. Peter didn’t react right away, which kind of freaked you out a bit.

“Considered.” Peter simply stated. “Mx. Stark, I look forward to working with you.” The teen held out his hand and you gave it a shake, but Peter didn’t stop there. He actually leaned forward and wrapped his arms around you to sneak a quick hug. “Sorry, I just like hugs. I didn’t get too many in when...Tony was here.”

“It’s not a problem, kid.” You ruffled his hair a bit. “Are you hungry? Ms. Parker?” You asked each of them.

“I could eat.” Peter nodded and looked over to his aunt.

“Honestly, I really didn’t want to cook tonight.” May answered with a chuckle that you joined in on, you clapped and stood up from your seat.

“Epic, let’s go grab some dinner. Discuss the future. I hate living in the past, don’t you?”

—————

Months went by and you and Peter really formed a healthy relationship. You, the solid mentor who seemed to have all the answers—Peter, the impressionable student who was starting to get the hang of it all. But Peter also started to see you as a parental figure, and you cared for him like he was one of your own. Hell, you and May even became good friends. You got to hear all about Happy from her and her from Happy. You were kind of rooting for them, to be honest.

Tony wasn’t brought up as much anymore, but you did think of him a lot. You wondered what he would say to you right now.

“Aw, y/n/n, you’ve gone soft! Look at that, I was worried you were gonna turn out like dad...”

The ringtone on your phone snapped you out of your thoughts. It was the middle of the night, who dared to call you this late? You grabbed your cell and looked at the caller ID.

Spider-Kid

“Hey, what’s up?” You answered the phone and waited for Peter on the other end.

“I can’t stop thinking about him.” Peter sobbed into the phone, causing your heart to drop. If there’s one thing you hated, it was a crying kid. “I miss him, y/n. I hate pretending like I don’t, like I’m over it!” He went on.

“I do, too, Peter. I really wish it were different.” You tried to keep a level head while talking to him, but everything he said was exactly how you felt. Just keep it together, y/n. “I try to remember all the good memories I have, try not to dwell on what could have been. Does that make sense?” You asked as you heard Peter sniffle into his microphone.

“You have more memories than I do. I wish I had more time with him.” You heard Peter’s voice crack a bit, he was trying so hard to keep it together, it wasn’t working. “Can you tell me something about him? Something I don’t know?”

“Yeah, I can do that.” You paced around, trying to find some kind of memory to share that would make both you and Peter feel better. “Oh, okay! So, when Tony was a teenager, his friends dared him to hack into the Pentagon. The FBI ended up showing up to our house and Tony proudly owned up to it because he knew he was untouchable. He never knew this, but even our dad was impressed.” You reminisced, hearing Peter chuckle a little. That made you feel a lot better about the situation.

“That sounds like Tony.” Peter said. If you hadn’t noticed, he’s on a first-name basis now. You were glad he was more comfortable with that.

“Where are you, Peter?” You were concerned with his whereabouts, he seemed better than he did a moment ago, but you didn’t want him to be alone.

“I was patrolling, but I’m not really feeling up to it right now. I think the coast is clear for the night.” He sighed and shut his eyes as he felt more tears fighting to surface.

“Do you want to wait, like, twenty minutes for me and we can go get some food? You can choose the place, I don’t mind.” You offered, which delighted Peter. He was still holding in those tears, poor kid.

“Yeah, sounds good, see ya!” He quickly hung up the phone and burst into tears at the building he was perched on. Peter just couldn’t keep it together sometimes, but he didn’t know what he’d do if you hadn’t stepped in when you did.

Meanwhile, you had just started letting out all the emotions that had built up during that call. No one told you that you’d have to keep it together for the kid, but you swear you’d do anything to help him out, just like your brother before you. You sat on your floor, leaning against the side of your bed as you wailed into your hands. You hadn’t cried this hard in months, it was bound to happen sooner or later.

You looked up at the picture on your nightstand of Tony and you at one of his extravagant parties, you really missed those crazy days. But you just have to keep telling yourself that you can’t live in the past anymore or else it’ll break you. What you can do is cherish the parts of your past worth remembering and honor those who are no longer with us. Peter will learn that soon, you just have to be patient.

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @rorybutnotgilmore // @locke-writes // @sweetheartliz07 // @queen-destenie // @natasha-danvers // @allthecreativeonesaretaken // @frostedgiant // @emygirl // @lotsoffandomrecs // @johnmurphyisbisexual // @teenwaywardasgardian // @pappydaddy // @captainshazamerica //

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cloudshapedpatch · 4 years

Text

sing me a lullaby (don’t tell your boss what to do)

a super indulgent, tooth-rotting fluffy Julie and the Phantoms one shot.

julie can’t sleep so she goes to her boys for comfort. no plot. just sugar.

or! read on ao3 here

* * * *

Some nights, Julie could sleep like a rock. The band had found she was a surprisingly heavy sleeper, and could fall into a deep REM cycle within minutes. She was notorious for being able to fall asleep anywhere if she was tired enough.

Tonight was not one of those nights.

After many hours of tossing and turning, 3 relaxing YouTube videos and maybe a few too many melatonin gummies, Julie gave up on sleep.

Her go-to solution to any problem nowadays was to see her boys, so without much thought, she slipped into her favorite funky monster slippers and made her way out the front door.

The cold night air slapped her cheeks with a little alertness, and a little sense. If she went out to the studio, she was sure to stay up all night. Alas, it was still 2 in the morning, and her better judgement had set with the sun. She didn’t have anything really important to do tomorrow, right?

She opened one of the studio doors and squinted against the lights, too bright in contrast to the darkness of the house.

“Jules! What are you doing up?” Reggie was the first to notice her arrival, standing up to guide her to the couch (giving up his own seat and opting to sit on the floor in front of her; she failed to notice in her fatigued state).

“Couldn’t sleep,” Julie mumbled, rubbing her eyes.

“Jeez, you’re shivering,” Luke was always quick to worry about her, “Why didn’t you grab a coat?”

Alex had already taken off his pink sweatshirt and laid it in her lap before she could answer. As she slipped it on, she noted that while it was not warm like a living teen boy’s sweater should be, it was still warmer than she was expecting, and she was glad to have a little bit of extra heat.

After having taken a couple of moments to recover from being outside (she’d admit, it was colder than she was expecting), she went to answer the boys’ questions, but giggled at the sight of them. Alex and Reggie had sat themselves down right at her feet and Luke was seated on the armchair next to her, all looking like curious puppies waiting for a treat.

“Well??” They said at the same time, only filling Julie with more mirth.

“Nothing, I just knew coming in here would make me feel better.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew she should have changed her wording. Luke stood up and was demanding she tell him who hurt her feelings, Reggie had attached himself to her legs, resting his cheek on her bare knees comfortingly, and Alex was halfway out the door, saying he’d figure out how to make a cup of tea.

A fit of giggles later, Julie explained she just couldn’t sleep and was doing fine emotionally. It was only after the boys had sat back down that Julie asked what they had been doing before.

“Just a little bit of lyric writing. Can’t play with the melody until everyone leaves for the day tomorrow, but it works for us.” Luke shrugged, looking toward his abandoned notebook on the piano.

“Ooh, let me help!”

“Uhh…” Reg and Alex said together, in their usual harmonised way, looking anywhere but at her.

“Look, Julie,” Luke started, and she already knew what he was gonna say, “You got school in the morning. You shouldn’t be writing.”

“No no no, it’s fine! Writing will tire my brain out, you know?” They didn’t look convinced, so she continued, “My thoughts are running a mile a minute, let me get ‘em out on paper. Please?”

All three boys looked away from her then, mumbling about how difficult it was to say no when she pouted. Finally they gave in, and they led her to the piano to pore over the notebook.

Of course, they only got a few lines down before Reggie was throwing wads of paper at Alex, and Julie played Never Gonna Give You Up as softly as she could while simultaneously keeping her laughter down (the boys were fascinated that she knew the song since it had come out when they were young, which prompted a short lesson on memes and Rick Rolling. Reggie was especially enthralled by this).

Luke gave up writing and went to the dart board, where Julie had hopped off the piano bench and challenged him. Not being one to back down, he and Julie played while Reg and Alex cheered them on. Alex humored her while Reggie was convinced no one could beat Luke at darts. He was right, but Julie didn’t mind so much, especially after Julie got to over-exaggerate her pity party and receive a nice long hug from her opponent, sharing an amused look with Alex while Luke rocked them back and forth.

“I could go for some nachos right now.”

“You always want nachos, Reg.”

“Again, Reginald?”

It took Julie a moment to think through his statement (hey, it was past 3am, she had brain fog to wade through). Ever since the night they opened at the Orpheum, the boys found they could do other small things besides touch Julie, like eat, and much to Reggie's delight, take showers.

She just giggled and grabbed Reggie by the hand, starting the short trek to the house, knowing the other two would follow. For a moment, she had forgotten what she was wearing, but stepping back into the cold night reminded her. She had walked out of the house wearing her pajama shorts and a short-sleeved crop top, and she was drowning in Alex’s hoodie. Her face heated at the thought of all the boys seeing her in nearly nothing but the large pink sweatshirt, playing off the color in her cheeks as windchill.

But she should have known the boys wouldn't have behaved.

Because while nothing the boys said would be able to be heard by her father or brother, the results of their actions were definitely audible. Alex was trying to heat the queso, but he spent too much effort trying not to drop the jar that he forgot about the spoon, which clattered loudly to the ground. All four froze in terror until Luke burst into laughter because some cheese had splattered into Julie’s hair, and she replied by smudging some cheese onto his nose. And after the ensuing cheese-throwing war, the kitchen was not a pretty sight. The mere thought of her dad coming down to see his daughter covered in cheese, alone, in the middle of the night, in their equally messy kitchen brought shivers. She’d surely be back to seeing Dr. Turner three days a week.

The boys did their best to clean, but mostly entertained Julie while she wiped up the mess and carried the plate of nachos back to the studio (how long does it take a band of three dead teen boys to make a plate of nachos? apparently, 38 minutes) before they flopped on the ground in a big pile. Julie laid with her head on Luke’s chest, who had his head on Alex’s lap. Reggie laid on Julie’s legs and she ran her hands through his surprisingly soft hair as they slowly worked through the plate.

“Hey Julie? Will you sing me a lullaby?”

“Are you serious?” Julie turned her head slightly to see him more clearly. She almost laughed, but then saw the look in his eyes, and couldn’t tell if he was serious or about to tease her. “Luke, you guys don’t even sleep.”

“Aw, c’mon Jules,” Reg begged, “You have such a nice voice.”

“The voice of an angel.” Luke added. Julie pushed all thoughts of the song she never let herself write down, yet constantly played in her dreams, and hoped that they couldn’t see the flush creeping down her neck.

“Fine. But only because I love y’all.”

Alex wiggled excitedly from under her as she cleared her throat and started to sing A Thousand Years (Julie was sort of glad they had died 25 years ago. She would virtually never run out of new material to impress them with, and Christina Perri was a classic). At some point Alex had laid down too, and Reggie had closed his eyes as Julie kept scratching his scalp as she sang. Luke ran his fingers over her shoulder as if he were strumming his guitar. And everything was alright.

A large yawn took over Julie’s voice just as she finished the song.

“Alright, time for bed, little miss.” Alex joked, poking her tongue as her mouth opened in another yawn.

She swatted his hand away yet made no effort to get up, instead choosing to nestle further into Luke’s neck. “Sorry, can’t, Reggie fell asleep on me.”

Reggie cracked one eye open. “Nice try. We don’t sleep, remember?” Reggie climbed off her and grabbed her hands, pulling her to a stand.

The blood rushed from her head down to her toes, causing her vision to turn dark and her balance swayed. Before she could catch herself, Luke had scooped her up into his arms.

“Come on boys. We got a girl to tuck in.”

“Yes sir.”

“At your service.”

Julie played off her wheeze as a snort of amusement, burying her face into her hands. A few moments passed and they didn’t move, so she peeked out from between her fingers, only to see all three boys looking over her like she was exactly what they asked for for their birthday.

She yelped in surprise which only caused the boys to laugh. Julie huffed and crossed her arms, pursing her lips to keep from smiling.

“Oh, lighten up, boss. We’re going now.”

And then he was smiling that smile that he usually reserved for when they were alone or on stage. She snorted (for real this time, but still in an effort to keep her composure) and poked his cheek.

For the fourth time that night, the cold night air whipped at her legs and face as Luke and the boys carried her to her bedroom. Reggie made an offhand comment on how absurd it would look if Ray woke up and saw his daughter floating around the house, and Julie had to slap her hand to her mouth to keep from laughing aloud; the boys all laughing loudly without restraint didn’t help.

And finally, once they were in the safety of her bedroom, they did exactly what they said they would. Alex tucked the pink hood inside the sweater so she could lay on it more comfortably (“You look all cozy, you can sleep in it for tonight.”), Reggie pulled back the covers and fluffed the pillows.

Julie felt like a princess, being pampered by these boys who had crashed into her life and nestled their way into her heart. Luke even laid her down, hand supporting her neck, and all three of them literally tucked her in.

“Hey guys? Will you sing me a lullaby?”

They groaned, mumbling together about karma, payback, and song recommendations. Eventually they settled themselves on her bed and sang her a song she didn’t recognize, one that must have been vaguely popular in the 90’s. It was soothing, and she felt the tugs of sleep start to take her under.

She must have dozed off, because she awoke to some shuffling, opening her eyes to see the boys tip-toeing out of her room.

“Luke,”

She hadn’t meant to say it out loud. She had been thinking of him (and the fuzzy lingerings of a dream lined the edges of her mind, one with Luke and a magical dance and that sweet smile of his). But all three boys stopped, before Alex pushed Reggie through the door with a wink.

“You okay? Need anything?”

Her words failed her, heart full and eyes nearly brimming with tears. She scooted over and pulled back the covers, patting the sheets next to her and avoiding his eyes.

Just like she knew he would, he made no comment but slid into the bed and let Julie resume her earlier position on his chest. With a flick of his wrist, he pulled the covers back over them both and wrapped his arms around her back, keeping her close.

Idly, she noted how much she liked laying on the boys (and especially him) because they were the perfect cuddling temperature. Not too hot, but not cold. Plus, she reasoned with herself, if he was nervous, at least he wouldn’t overheat the bed.

Wait. Nervousness. She was sure Luke could feel her pounding heart, beating like thunder against his too-quiet chest. He didn’t say anything, just rolled her curls between his fingers as they laid in comfortable silence.

Her thoughts began to wander, instead of relishing in the moment like she longed to do, but thoughts of all the boys had done for her, not just tonight, but in all the months she had known them.

And then his thumbs were running over her cheeks, whispering soothing words and lifting her face, locking their eyes. Her cheeks were wet. She must have started crying.

“Happy tears, don’t worry about it.”

He looked back at her quizzically.

“I was just thinking about how grateful I am that you guys are in my life.” She bit back the ‘especially you’ that fought to escape.

“We’ll always be here, Julie. You’re okay. Just go to sleep. I’ll wake you around 6? You’ll need to take a shower.” Luke took his hands out of her hair to show her a bit of cheese he picked out.

Julie covered a laugh again, resting her head back on his chest, relishing in his company and willingness to do whatever she asked. And she fell asleep, for real this time, with his fingers in her hair and soft hums pulling her into the best sleep she’d had in a while.

And never had she felt happier than that morning, Luke softly singing her into consciousness while Reggie brought her a cup of hot coffee and Alex picking her outfit for the day.

Bonus:

Julie came home from school later that day exhausted but overjoyed. Flynn had teased her endlessly, but she was too happy to care.

Like she did every day, she said hello to her family before going into the studio to do her homework.

But her brain short circuited as she opened the door and found all three boys jumping up from their seats to greet her, Luke wearing Alex’s pink hoodie. It was a little small for him around the arms, not leaving much to be imagined. Julie felt her eyes grow wide, her brows climbing higher, but unable to fix her face or look away.

Alex, never one to miss a cue, nodded his chin towards Luke. “He insisted on wearing it today cause it smelled like you.”

Luke sidestepped to him and whacked him with the back of his hand, but the message had been received. She’d think about that later. For now, she had math homework and a cuddle pile with her ghosts to continue.

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spine-buster · 4 years

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The President Wears Prada (William Nylander | Chapter 19

A/N: IT’S VALENTINE’S DAY BITCHES!!!!!

February 14th, 2020

Aberdeen Bloom was packing her tote bag.

Thankfully, the team had Valentine’s Day off. Over the past few weeks she’d heard the guys talking about their plans with their wives or girlfriends. John and Aryne were getting John’s parents to watch Jace while they went for dinner in Yorkville. Morgan was bringing Bee to Alo for dinner, in his crutches and all – he wasn’t letting his injury stop him. Jason was going to buy his girls each a bouquet of flowers and have a special night in with them and Jennifer. It all sounded very sweet, and she was happy that, after missing New Year’s with their families, they were at least able to have Valentine’s Day together.

Evan was coming over tonight and Kasha was cooking him a romantic dinner, so Aberdeen had decided she was going to camp out at her local Starbucks with her laptop and notebooks and work on her writing. It was when she was almost finished packing her tote bag did a text come through on her phone.

can u be ready in 15 mins?

Between William and Brendan, she’d just about had it with hockey players telling her to get ready in an absurdly short amount of time.

Why?

did u really think we wouldn’t celebrate valentines minskatt?

She almost dropped her phone on the floor. She had no clue what he was thinking. Clearly he wasn’t.

I don’t know what the custom in Sweden is, but usually you tell a girl if you’re going out on Valentine’s Day so she can look pretty

what’s the fun in that when i can surprise u with something plus u always look pretty its impossible for u not to

What if I already made plans?

Less than ten seconds later, her phone began ringing. She snorted before she picked up. “Hi.”

“You don’t really have plans, do you?” he asked, worry in his voice.

She looked at her notebook sitting on her bed, the one she was supposed to have packed into her tote bag before leaving for Starbucks. Where she should be drinking coffee and writing. Exactly like the stereotype. “Evan’s coming over. I was supposed to go to Starbucks and write,” she informed him.

William knew how seriously Aberdeen took her writing ever since she’d read a lot of it to him during their days alone during the All-Star Break, so he was genuinely worried. “Do you think you can spare a few hours for a Valentine’s Day date? I’m like two minutes from your place,” he said. “But, uh, no pressure. I mean if you want to write, you can go write.”

Aberdeen smiled, though she couldn’t see him. His anxiety was a bit cute, she had to admit. This was the first time in her life, she thought, that she made a boy nervous. The last time she’d tried to use writing as an excuse not to go out, Zane got annoyed and pouty and forced her out to his friend’s birthday party where she had the worst time. “I’ll meet you downstairs,” she said quickly before hanging up.

By the time the elevator took her down to the lobby, she saw William’s Volvo already waiting for her in front of the lobby doors. She slipped into the passenger’s seat quickly, closing the door and immediately noticing how already hot and cozy it was in the car. She looked over to William. “Hi,” she smiled shyly.

“Hi minskatt,” he smiled too, a soft, confident smile on his face. “You look beautiful.”

“Stop trying to butter me up.”

He leaned over the centre console and placed a kiss on her lips. It was supposed to be chaste – supposed to be – but he should have known better, because once his lips were on hers it was endgame for him, and he kept kissing her and deepening the kiss for as long as she’d let him. When she pulled away, she was smiling. “Where are we going?” she asked.

“It’s a surprise.”

“Willy.”

He reached over and grabbed her hand, pulling it over to his lap. “You’ll see, minskatt.”

Aberdeen digressed. He put his car into drive and turned the corner to rejoin Adelaide Street. He grabbed his phone carefully from the cupholder and handed it to her. “Want to play some music?” he asked.

Aberdeen arched her brow. She took the phone from his hands and began scrolling through his Spotify. During the All-Star Break, she’d added more songs to his “Minskatt” playlist, and they’d listened it as they sat around the apartment, or cooked, or did whatever it was they did for those three days – which was basically just eat and have sex. She noticed a couple of songs had been added by him since then, too: ‘Ageless Beauty’ by Stars, ‘Cold Feet’ by Loud Luxury, ‘Honest’ by The Band CAMINO. They all suited her and her taste in music so well.

But she had ulterior motives.

William waited patiently for a song to begin as he drove through the streets. Every time he glanced over at Aberdeen, he saw her smirk getting bigger and bigger. “What are you up to over there?” he asked. “Are you destroying the playlist again?”

Aberdeen giggled and tapped the screen dramatically. She waited.

When the opening notes of ‘Passionfruit’ began to play, William’s jaw dropped dramatically as Aberdeen burst into a fit of laughter at his reaction. “What the hell is this?!” he demanded playfully. “You roast me about my choice and now you play it?!”

“I never said it was a bad song,” she said through giggles.

“You are something else,” he said, pausing dramatically between the two words as he reached over and tried to pinch her on her thigh playfully. She yelped but continued to laugh, grabbing his hand and holding it hers, like she was holding a baby bird. “No extra meatball for you.”

Her eyes lit up at the mention of a meatball. “Sugo meatballs?”

“No,” he shook his head, bringing his car to a stop at the red light. He looked over at her. “San Remo Bakery meatballs.”

She gasped dramatically. “Willy, we’re going to San Remo?”

“Mhm,” he nodded his head. The famous bakery in Etobicoke clearly had her heart, and he knew it would. It was the first thing he thought of when he was planning tonight. “You’re gonna get us whatever’s good and we’re gonna eat.”

Aberdeen wiggled excitedly in her seat. She controlled the playlist and songs as William made his way to Etobicoke the long way – aka, not taking the highway. He was perfectly content with taking King Street and The Queensway the entire way there while maintaining easy, fun, and interesting conversation with Aberdeen, who was suddenly full of stories of other Etobicoke establishments she’d haunt during her high school days. She told stories of she and her friends packing themselves into a car to drive to San Remo Bakery in grade 12, making it back just in time for their afternoon class but smelling like freshly baked bread in the process. She told stories of running through the streets of The Kingsway neighbourhood throughout university when she would go on jogs to clear her head. She told stories of hiking along the Humber Marshes with her dad and traditional afternoon tea at the Old Mill with her mom and taking the subway back home to Royal York station after nights out with her friends in university. She’d memorized the train schedule and knew that the last train going westbound left at 1:52am. For all that she went out, she’d only ended up taking a taxi back home three times.

After every story, William would kiss her hand.

When they were on Royal York Road, Aberdeen became silent as she looked at all the storefronts on the way to the bakery. The sun was just starting to set, and even though it was the dead of winter in Canada, the night was clear and crisp, the sky starting to light up a mixed shade of orange and pink. She looked over at William, his eyes illuminated by the setting sun. For all her thinking half the time that he was so perfect she didn’t think he was real, she was reminded of his status by the beanie he was wearing on top of his head, the Maple Leafs logo glaring back at her.

He pulled the car over to the curb right in front of the bakery. Aberdeen could see inside, and it was pretty busy – like it usually was. She looked at him again. “Do you get recognized a lot when you’re out and about in the city?” she asked.

William shrugged. “Enough.”

She looked between him and the busy bakery again, biting her lip. “Then how about I go in and bring the food back,” she said sheepishly. “That way it’s not…I mean we’re not seen toget—”

“I understand, Aberdeen. It’s okay,” he said, kissing her hand.

“I’m sorry we can’t, like, eat it inside or whatever,” she said sheepishly, knowing that it was because of her anxieties about being caught that they couldn’t be seen in public together. Sometimes she wondered if he had the same, although she doubted it. He was an extremely private person and didn’t let the media know about one iota of his life or who he really was as a person, but he was so carefree with her that she wondered if he let his guard down because his love for her blinded him or something.

“Hey…” he said, leaning over the centre console again so he could give her a soft kiss. “It’s fine. I’m just happy to be spending the night with you. Now go.”

Aberdeen came back with a feast. A giant slice of lasagna (for him), gnocchi in a rosé sauce (for her, her absolute favourite), and two sfoglio cannolis. When she got back in the car, bag filled to the brim, William was smiling. The smell of all the food instantly filled the car and he almost melted right then and there. “God, that smells fucking incredible,” he said. “Alright, next stop.”

“What’s the next stop?”

“You’ll see.”

Aberdeen rolled her eyes again. She didn’t have to wait long, though, because within minutes – seriously, the food was still steaming – they’d arrived at Prince of Wales Park, a small park on the edge of the lake with an amazing and underrated lookout towards the Toronto skyline. The park was empty, with it being the middle of winter, and so was the small parking lot. William parked right at the end, facing the skyline as the sun set over the city.

Aberdeen and William looked at each other at the same time once he put his car in park, turning off the engine but leaving the heating on. “You were planning to eat in the car anyway, weren’t you?” she asked.

“Maybe,” he smiled mischievously.

She took out the food. William audibly moaned as he took his first bite of lasagna. Aberdeen lay her back against the door as she forked some gnocchi into her mouth, sighing at the taste. Between mouthfuls of gnocchi and lasagna and feeding each other little bits to taste, William began to speak, unprompted, just like she had on the way to the bakery. He spoke about growing up with his big family in Sweden and the United States, going back and forth every year. He spoke about skating on rollerblades in his backyard and hitting the corner of a barbecue while his dad chased him and needing three stitches. He spoke about his mom cooking traditional Swedish dishes and his dad being the master of pickled herring. He spoke about hockey and being drafted and moving to Toronto at eighteen. He spoke about having to leave his friends in Sweden but being able to see them every summer. He spoke about how much she would love Sweden, how he wanted to bring her there, how he wanted to show her their family place in Stockholm but also their secluded country house.

After every subject change, she’d lean in and kiss him, and he’d taste like lasagna and she’d taste like gnocchi and it was all just perfect.

When they finished the food, and had washed everything down with some water and put the empty containers back in the bag that Aberdeen tied up and placed at her feet, she looked at William once more. Although everything was sweet, and perfect, and lovely, and everything she would have wanted out of a Valentine’s Day date, the fact of the matter was they’d just had dinner in a car. Alone. Because they couldn’t spend it in a restaurant together. Because they were together, but they couldn’t be together – out in the open, at least.

“Hey Willy?” her voice was sheepish, her mouth speaking before her brain could tell her not to.

“Minskatt?”

“You uh, you know how we’re keeping all this a secret? Like nobody on the team knows we slept together last June, and nobody in the world knows we’re sleeping together now, and the guys on the team think it’s all like…I don’t know, like you having a harmless crush on me or whatever?” she rambled.

“Yes…” William was unsure of where she was going with this.

“So, um…what are we, then?”

He stayed quiet for a moment. “What do you want to be?” he asked.

“Nuh-uh. I’m not making the executive decision here,” she shook her head. “Either we make a decision together or that’s it. We need to define what this is because right now we’re in this weird friends-with-benefits stage even though we’ve already said I love you—”

“I want you to be my girlfriend,” he blurted out, interrupting her. “I thought…I mean, I’ve wanted you to be my girlfriend since the elevator. I thought you knew that.”

She had a hunch, but she needed it confirmed by him out loud so she knew her mind wasn’t playing games with her. “So…so we’re going to do this, then?” she asked timidly.

“Do you want to do this?” he asked, making sure. “Because you already know my answer. I think you’ve known it this whole time, you just hesitate to accept it because your judgement is clouded by the fact that we have to sneak around to love one another and be together.”

For Aberdeen, the answer was easy. It was wrong, and it was immoral, and it was a blatant disregard of the rules she needed to follow professionally and the rules she should be following societally, but it was easy. “Yes. I want to do this. You’re my boyfriend.”

“Then you’re my girlfriend,” William smiled.

“We have a bit of a problem though.”

“Besides the fact that this is against every company policy known to mankind and completely inappropriate?” he asked. It made Aberdeen giggle. “What’s the other problem?”

“Valentine’s Day can’t be our anniversary. It’s too corny.”

William giggled. He grabbed her hand and kissed it before he held it in his lap, his thumb gliding over her backhand tenderly. “When’s our anniversary then, minskatt?”

Aberdeen thought for a few moments before she came to a conclusion. “January 9th.”

William knew the exact date she was talking about and knew why she would choose that date to be their anniversary. “Alright then. January 9th it is.”

Aberdeen smiled, leaning back into the door, satisfied. They had an anniversary. They were official. They were on the same page, regardless of whether or not they liked that page – that page being not being able to share their relationship with anyone or anything. It wasn’t the best page. But they both knew there were better pages ahead.

A secret only they knew.

“What’re you thinking about?” William asked softly.

“You,” she replied. He smiled. “C’mere,” she beckoned.

“Come where?”

She abruptly opened the door, slipping out of the passenger seat and instead moving to the backseat. William watched as she did so, slipping out himself when he realized what she was doing. Once they found each other in the backseat, Aberdeen climbed on top of him and straddled his lap. “You’re being very bold, minskatt,” William smiled.

“Count your blessings,” she winked before leaning in and crashing her lips against his. He reciprocated readily, however ‘shocked’ he was by her bold actions. He was just as hungry for her as she was for him, and his actions showed that: his hands wandering along her thighs, grabbing at her waist; his tongue down her throat, biting her bottom lip. They kissed so much their lips were red and swollen; kissed so much they were fogging up the windows.

Layers. There were too many layers of clothing. It was winter, so they both knew there would be, but it made things annoying. They’d taken their jackets off long ago – William had his off when Aberdeen got in the car, and she’d taken hers off soon after, not bothering to put it back on when she ran in and out of San Remo Bakery – but now there was William t-shirt and hoodie to worry about, and Aberdeen’s sweater, and…

Aberdeen felt William’s hands go underneath her sweater and shivered.

“You alright, minskatt?” William asked as he felt her body shake at his touch.

Aberdeen nodded. She began kissing him again, grinding her hips against his lap, causing him to groan. His hands kept traveling higher and higher against her bare skin until he reached her bra. Aberdeen helped take off her sweater. William took his off, too. She could feel how hard she was getting as she grinded more in his lap, pressing her bare skin onto his and feeling his body heat. Eventually, he pushed her bra straps down, kissing his way down to her breasts before taking a nipple on his mouth. Aberdeen threw her head back. “Willy…” she sighed out, the feeling of his tongue flicking against her nipple making her shiver again. He switched to the other breast. “Oh, Willy…” she began to pant harder.

She dropped her hands in between them.

As Aberdeen stuck her hand down his pants, William stopped. “Ab—Aberdeen—”

“Willy please tell me you have a condom somewhere.”

He huffed, looking nervous. “I d…I don’t think I do—”

“What?”

“I wasn’t expecting this, minskatt. I swear.” Okay, so they couldn’t have sex. But they could still have fun, she thought immediately, because there was no way she was going to stop now. She was too far gone. “If you want to stop I underst—”

“We are not stopping,” Aberdeen said firmly. “I’m—I—help me pull your pants down.”

She started on her own, eagerly, but William helped. She saw how hard his member was and grabbed it. She noticed William’s sharp intake of breath. She began to stroke him, looking him straight in the eye. “D’you like that?”

William nodded. He pulled her pants down, too, and moved her underwear to the side. “I want to make you feel good,” he whispered.

“You always do,” she smiled.

He smiled back at her. He began teasing her core before slipping one finger into her. She gasped in pleasure, biting her lip as she moved her hips slowly. “That’s good?” William asked quickly, only for Aberdeen to nod her head just as quickly, letting out a sigh. She tried to steady her breathing as William’s finger began moving in and out of her slowly, curling every so often. For her part, she kept jerking him off too, his grunts her fuel.

“D’you like when I touch you like this?” she asked, mumbling against his lips, biting down on the bottom one.

He kissed her in response, sloppy and wet to let her know what he thought. He used his thumb to start rubbing circles against her hot core, and the sound of her mewling out his name over and over again was driving him absolutely insane. “More,” she whimpered. “More, Willy. One more.”

William slipped another finger into her easily and curled them both. “Oooooh, fuck,” Aberdeen sighed out, along with every other swear word in the book. She quickened her strokes of his cock and he grunted again, bucking his hips slightly. They kissed for a while longer, both their hands working magic on the other, until she felt him buck his hips again. “Are y’close, Willy?” He nodded, unable to form words. “D’you wanna cum in my mouth?”

Willy’s eyes bulged out dramatically. “You’ve gotta cum first.”

“Willy—”

“You don’t hav—you’ve gotta cum first,” he repeated more definitively, curling his fingers in her again, making her cry out.

“Don’t stop, then,” she bit her lip. “I’m so close.”

William leaned forward to kiss Aberdeen, and with a few more curls of his fingers and circles of his thumb, she began writhing and shaking on top of him, moaning his name over and over and over again as she rode out her orgasm for as long as she could. She buried her head in the crook of his neck as she came down from her orgasm, feeling his fingers slip out of her. She watched as he brought them up to his mouth and sucked. She was surprised he’d do something that bold, but then again, he had just fingered her in the backseat of his car after she’d initiated the entire rendezvous. “Fuck, Willy.”

“Felt good?” he asked quickly.

“Felt fucking amazing,” she responded, trying to suppress her giggle. With her hand still miraculously on his cock, she continued stroking, slowly at first. “You ok?”

He nodded his head. “You look so fucking sexy,” he mumbled, referring to how her bra was still pushed down and the red flush that had taken over her body after her orgasm. It was his favourite sight to see. “I love it when I hear you moan my name. I…fuck Aberdeen.”

“I love how good you are with your hands,” she smiled mischievously.

“I love how good you are with yours,” he giggled, sighing slightly as her thumb grazed over the tip of his cock. They kissed for a while as she continued to stroke him. “God, you’re so fucking good. I’m not gonna last much longer.”

“D’you want to cum in my mouth?” she asked again.

There was no backing out of the question now, but William didn’t know how to respond. Of course it would have been nice, but there was so much to consider. “You don’t have to. It’s okay.”

“But Willy—”

“—I haven’t even eaten you out yet and I don’t think it’s fair—”

“—But I want to, Willy,” she said, eyes wide and staring at him with a mix of fake innocence and real determination. “I want to.”

He didn’t say another word. Aberdeen kissed him a few more times before she shifted her position and took him in her mouth, sucking the tip of his cock. William leaned his head back and watched through hooded eyes as she continued to stroke and suck, leaving him utterly speechless. It was only when Aberdeen started to go deeper that he could feel his release coming, and he suddenly found his voice again. “Aberdeen—” he tried to get out, but couldn’t. She looked up at him with big eyes and he was ready to die right there. “Aberdeen, I—”

“Cum in my mouth Willy.”

With one last stroke and a buck of his hips, Aberdeen felt his hot cum in her throat. William moaned and repeated her name over and over, much like she’d done before, and tried to keep his eyes on her as she took every last bit of him. His jaw was practically on the floor as he looked down at her, and she up at him, until he couldn’t take it anymore. “C’mere,” dragged her up, planting a messy, wet kiss on her lips as they moaned together, William wrapping his arms around her protectively as he could feel his cock soften.

They kissed for what felt like hours again, kiss after kiss after kiss, until their pace slowed down and their breaths returned to normal and they realized what they’d just done, what they’d just participated in together, willingly, in a car sitting in an empty parking lot of a park overlooking the Toronto skyline. In about twelve hours, they’d be on a plane together en route to Ottawa, solely work acquaintances to everyone around them, keeping their secret close to their hearts.

“I love you, minskatt,” William mumbled, his head still a bit dizzy but his heart still full from what had just happened.

“I love you too,” she responded, her chest rising and falling with her breath, her head equally as dizzy and her heart equally as full.

***

William couldn’t keep his eyes off of Aberdeen, now that they were back in the driver’s and passenger’s seat, on Islington Road heading north to get on the Gardiner Expressway. She had a flush on her cheeks and a small smile on her face as she looked out the window. The night was completely dark now, with only the streetlights illuminating the road for them until they got back into the city. The playlist was playing in the background, but neither bothered to turn the volume up or change the song yet.

William drove slowly. To have more time with her.

“Minskatt?” he asked softly as they were stopped at a red light. Aberdeen turned her head to look at him. “Being with you feels right,” he told her, his voice firm and with conviction.

“Even though what we’re doing is wrong?” she asked.

William shook his head. “That doesn’t matter. I don’t care about the rules.” He considered her words – how she admitted it was wrong – for a moment and got nervous. “Does it feel wrong to you?”

“No,” she replied immediately shaking her head. “Not at all. But you have to understand that this…this is simultaneously the most wrong thing I’ve ever done, but also the most right. I don’t know how to explain it.”

“I get it completely,” William said. “But I don’t regret any of it.”

“I don’t either.” Aberdeen surprised herself by saying those words out loud. But they were true. She didn’t. She didn’t feel any regret. “You…you know that right?”

William smiled softly. He was very, very well aware how much she was sacrificing to do this – to be sneaking around with him – and he was very well aware of how, for her, everything hung by a thread. Everything for her was on the line, everything, and she was willing to risk it all for him. That was why he was so protective. That was why he was so secretive. That was why he tried his best to keep everything so low-key, to not have people catch on, and if they did, to not take it too seriously. “I do.”

When she picked up his phone as he took the on-ramp onto the Gardiner Expressway, she chose another song, ‘In Your Eyes’ by the Weeknd. William recognized the tempo immediately and smiled. They moved along to the music, singing the lyrics together as they drove on the highway. Aberdeen danced in her seat and William grooved from side to side as much as he could while still being alert and paying attention to the road. Near the song’s end, Aberdeen grabbed his phone again and queued the next song.

When the familiar chords began to play, the synth coming in and the beat loud and strong, William looked over to her and smiled. “How did I know?” he asked.

“Did you expect anything less from me?” she asked rhetorically, giggling slightly.

Midnight… You come and pick me up, no headlights… Long drive could end in burning flames or paradise…

Hearing her sing was one of the best things in the world to him. Almost as good as hearing her talking about writing. Almost as good as hearing her read her own writing. There was such a lack of inhibitions in the way she sang and the way she moved, the way she didn’t care about facades or rules or appropriateness anymore, that made every lyric, ever hand motion, every movement and every head bop so endearing to him. When she took out her phone and began recording the lights on the horizon, all the skyscrapers lit up in the crisp winter’s night air, he reached across the console and held her hand. Hands that held the ring he got her on it.

Because he could now. Without any reservation.

And when Aberdeen smiled, all was right in the world.

When they got back to her apartment, Aberdeen was reluctant to leave. William had put the car in park but neither of them moved to say goodbye or do anything, really. They were lucky that her street wasn’t a main street; that it was residential and tucked in behind two other, more major streets, so that they wouldn’t be honked at or bothered.

“Have you packed for tomorrow yet?” Aberdeen asked, her voice quiet.

William shrugged. “Just gotta choose a suit, really. There’s nothing to it. You?”

“Yeah,” she nodded her head. “My suitcase is pretty much always ready to go nowadays. I’m uh…Brendan actually gave me lunch time off so I can meet up with Siena.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. She’s even coming to the game. Not in the press box or anything but she’ll be in a seat somewhere in the arena. You might get to see her.”

William stayed silent for a few moments. “Did you like tonight?” he asked.

Aberdeen smiled. “Very much so.”

Some more moments of silence. It wasn’t until William leaned over to give her a kiss that there was another sound. “I love you, minskatt.”

She smiled into the kiss. “I love you too, Willy,” she said, for what felt like the tenth time that night. She put her hand on the door handle and pulled so the door would open. She knew if she stayed any longer, they’d be there all night, either kissing or just sitting there in silence. “Get home safe, okay? Text me.”

He didn’t want her to leave, but he digressed because they both had an early wakeup time tomorrow. He also knew that he’d be seeing her in a few hours again, anyway. “I will, minskatt,” he gave her one last kiss before letting her go.

When Aberdeen walked into her condo building, it was like the concierge was waiting for her. “Ms. Bloom?” he asked as she walked by the desk.

“That’s me…”

“This is for you,” he said, handing her a large manila envelope. “Courtesy of your friend,” he nodded towards William, still waiting outside in his car until Aberdeen turned the corner to get to the elevator where he wouldn’t be able to see her.

She furrowed her brows. When…? How…? “Thanks…” she took it from him, thanking him politely before making her way towards the elevator. Once she was in, she pressed her floor number and tore open the seal.

Inside, there was a valentine. A poorly made and executed valentine, but a valentine nonetheless. William had cut out a giant heart out of red construction paper. He’d glued googly-eyes on it to make a face, glued pipe cleaners and cotton balls and stickers where necessary, and had even used glitter. She laughed out loud – it honestly looked like a valentine made by one of her mom’s first graders. When she noticed it was a card, she opened it up. She saw, in William’s handwriting:

Jag tänker på dig när jag inte ens tanker

It was when she got to her bedroom that she punched in the words, with all their accents, carefully into Google Translate on her phone. Again. He was always making her translate things, although she highly doubted there would be a communication error this time around and think he was calling her ‘little shit’. When the translation came up, her heart skipped a beat.

I think about you when I’m not even thinking.

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thatnerdnextdoor24 · 4 years

Text

Under the Mistletoe

I’ve been holding onto this baby all year. Happy holidays!! Enjoy it the best you can with the ones you love

This is Part One. Read Part Two!!

Ao3

More Kit/Ty

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shadowhunters were never much into Christmas. In this, they and Kit had in common. Johnny Rook thought Christmas as pointless and just another mundane marketing ploy. Though it was strange, when his first Christmas in this new realm approached, it was nice to know that he wouldn't be missing anything.

That's what he had thought, anyway. But it appeared that Tessa and Jem were much more interested in the holiday shenanigans. When Kit had woken on the 1 of December that year, he had come downstairs to find that the ghosts of Christmas past had vomited all over his house. Tinsel draped along the walls, shiny glass ornaments on a humongous tree. The scent of cinnamon drifting in from the kitchen. Then there was Jem and Tessa dancing together in front of the fireplace, Bing Cosby singing holiday cheer from Tessa’s vintage record player.

It had surprised him to say the least. Then again, Jem and Tessa weren't Shadowhunters anymore. They lived life in between, stuck in the middle of Downworld, Shadowhunters, and mundanes. His first Christmas with them had been daunting. They had opened their arms to him, wanted to give him love and warmth and acceptance. And that almost made it worse. Because Kit didn't know how to act. He felt awkward when someone asked what he wanted for Christmas, and then even more embarrassed when they actually gave him what he had asked for.

It's taken a few Christmas's for him to get the hang of it. Though Kit thought that a little bit of embarrassment would always stick with him. Now, years later, after adventure, after adventure, after adventure. Christmas came by again, and Kit found that he truly wanted it. He wanted the white snow, the cinnamon cookies, pine trees, candy canes, brightly wrapped presents, and, most importantly; a vision of cuddling by the fire, with the one he loved most.

It may not have been the first Christmas Kit spent with Ty Blackthorn, but it was the first where the Las Angeles Institute held the annual Christmas party. So maybe that meant something to him. Kit didn't really know exactly why he had decided that it would be this Christmas. This year. This...week. (Was it really so soon?) In which he would finally do it. Over the past years, they had both grown. Up, apart, up again, and back together. If anything. Kit learned what he should have already known. That Christopher Herondale and Tiberius Blackthorn, were written in the stars. Destined to be together, no matter what may come their way.

So it would be this year, this Christmas. Where Kit would do the most terrifying, horrifying, yet exciting, righteous, thing he had ever done.

Kit was going to ask Ty to marry him.

And if one was going to marry Tiberius Blackthorn, there were a few things that one needed to do.

First, one needed to notify the rest of the Blackthorn Clan, and let them know that you were marrying their brother. So that's what Kit had done. He had decided three weeks ago that it would be this Christmas, when he proposed to Ty. So, that same day, Kit drove to the house that Julian and Emma shared on the beach, (about a 40 minute drive from Kit and Ty's downtown apartment.) And knocked on the door.

He had been so nervous. When he had sat at the kitchen table with Julian and Emma. They had thought that something was wrong. But Kit had no doubts. None at all. He knew he would have no regrets. "I'm going to ask Ty to marry me." He blurted. Julian had choked on his tea, Emma had beamed. Kit knew he had to finish talking before Julain could start.

"But I'm not here to ask you for permission. Because that's not your choice, it's Ty's. So really you don't have a say in this. So I'm not asking you for permission. I love Ty. And so do you, and I know that you were more of a father to him than a brother. So it was only fair that you would be the first to know. I love Ty. And I want to marry him." Kit had never felt so sure about anything in his life.

Julian could see that in the way Kit held himself, in the soft pitch his voice took when he talked about Ty. It was the look in his eyes, and the twitching of his fingers. Kit loved Ty so much that at this moment, nothing else mattered. Julian laughed. Kit jumped in surprise and Emma scooted away, they exchanged a quizzical look while Julian caught his breath. Finally, he sighed, looking up at Kit with a warm smile. "Okay." He said.

Not really what Kit had expected. "Okay?" He and Emma echoed. Julian nodded. "You said you're going to ask Ty to marry you. And I'm telling you 'okay'." His face was beaming, and Kit felt his heart burst and the tension in his shoulders drop. He may not have been there to ask for permission, but it definitely would've been bad if Julain had disapproved.

It had been such a weight off his shoulders. And once he had said it out loud, to another person, it didn't feel so much like a far off dream. The more people he told, the more right it felt. Because there had been a lot of people to tell. He drove to the L.A. Institute to tell Helen, Aline, and Tavvy. He had to get a portal to New York so he could tell Mark and Christina. Dru had been at the New York Institute with Kit's parabatai, Ash. So he had told them too. Only Ash had already known. Because Ash knew Kit maybe even better than Ty did.

Then he had to tell his side too. And he had to do that before Ash did. (He couldn't keep a secret. Probably a fairie thing.) Jace had been so excited he wanted to call everyone he knew, it was a good thing Clary had been there. Portaling again that day was exhausting, but he made it to Devon. Tessa had beamed, Jem had cried. Mina was nearly as excited as Jace.

It was almost dinner time when he finally got home. Ty had been waiting, laying on the couch with a book in his hands and Irene in his lap. The smile he gave Kit was soft, lovely. It melted Kit completely. He had promptly sat on the floor in front of the couch. Ty raised his arm so Kit could lean his tired head against Ty's chest. Ty let his arm back down, hand tucking into Kit's hair. "Read to me?" Kit asked quietly.

So Ty did.

It had become their norm. For Ty to lay on the couch like this, for Kit to sit like this, for Irene to purr softly while Kit stroked her fur. For Ty to read outloud, in his steady voice. Kit closed his eyes, and was certain once more. He was making the right choice.

That had been three weeks ago. Three long, stressing, weeks. That mostly consisted of Kit going into jewelry shops, getting nervous and antsy, and running out again before his sticky fingers, well, stuck to anything.

He had taken Ash with him to a few stores. It helped to have him there when Kit got nervous. But, Ash had to keep squeezing his arm, so often that the store clerks thought that they were the two getting married. Ash found this hilarious and laughed so hard that he nearly knocked over a display case of diamonds. They were then escorted out of the store, and Kit was still ringless.

Kit relayed this dilemma to Dru that night while the three of them were walking through Central Park. The ground was covered in snow, they were all bundled up in their warmest clothes. Despite the cold, Central Park was the only place in New York where Ash didn’t gain a headache from all the iron of the city. They had spent the day in NYC, getting some last minute Christmas shopping done. Being in the city that long, had started to give even Kit a headache. He could only imagine how bad Ash’s head had started pounding, but Ash hadn’t said anything about it. Of course, Kit had been able to tell that his smile didn’t reach his eyes or that he wasn’t completely listening to them. So he had casually steered them in the direction of the park, claiming he was done with shopping for the day.

Dru gave him a curious look and said, “Just give him your Herondale ring.” Kit blinked at her, and Ash lifted Kit’s right hand up, studying the ring. “I didn’t know this was the Herondale symbol…” he murmured. Kit decided to ignore him for a moment, giving Dru his full attention. She rolled her eyes, “Honestly Kit, do you know anything about Shadowhunter weddings?”

“....Gold clothes?”

“You’re hopeless.”

Dru was probably right. To be fair, Kit had never been a part of a shadowhunter marriage. He had only even seen a couple of them. But at least now he had his ring problem sorted. Kit had to admit, exchanging family rings did have something romantic going for it.

So alerting the Blackthorn Clan; Done.

Getting a ring; Done.

Actually popping the question…

Work in progress.

Kit spends that night at the New York Institute. They had returned and Dru had pestered him with questions about the engagement and the eventual marriage. Then the rest of the New York Institute residents broke out the drinks and the poker chips. Alec and Magnus were called over, and Kit was not allowed to leave. Not that he really wanted to, either. Even if he did miss Ty, he liked hanging out with friends, too. And he knew that Ty could use some time to himself every now and then. He did text Ty for a moment, letting him know that he wouldn’t be home that night.

Kit

I’ve been forced into a

game of poker.

don’t wait up.

Sherlock <3

How bad are you

losing?

Kit

How do you know

I’m not winning??

Sherlock <3

I’ve played poker with

you Kit. You suck at it

Kit

O ye of little faith…

Sherlock <3

It’s not a test of faith.

You just suck at poker

Kit

I’m crushed.

My own boyfriend

doesn’t believe in my

Poker face :(

Sherlock <3

Again, how badly are you losing?

Kit

Ash is kicking my ass

Jace is trying to steal

my chips.

Simon thought we

were playing black

jack.

Clary and Isabelle are

cheating and teamed up,

combining their cards.

Magnus is the dealer

and is definitely giving

me bad cards on

purpose.

Sherlock <3

I don’t think he is, love.

Pretty sure you’re just bad at poker.

Kit

Akdsnfskjfsa

stoooooop

I’m gonna win!!!!!!

Sherlock <3

Sure

And when you lose,

I’ll give you a kiss to make it better.

Kit

And when I win

I’ll give YOU a victory kiss

;)

Sherlock <3

Sure you will, baby.

Kit smiled at his phone like an idiot for a moment. When Ty called him “baby”, something just melted right in his chest and he felt like a fifteen year old boy catastrophically in love with his best friend all over again.

Then Jace tried to steal another one of his chips and Kit had to swat him away and pay attention once more.

He did finally crawl through a portal home that morning, around eight. But seeing as LA was three hours behind, Kit wasn’t surprised to enter a quiet and warm apartment. Irene lifted her head from where she was curled up on the couch, she yawned at him and then went back to sleep. That was about at warm a welcome as he expected. Kit crept, silently, into the bedroom. Where rumpled sheets and a lover were curled up, tangled in one another. Ty lay on his stomach, arms sprawled out. He was laying on Kit’s side of the bed.

A smirk graced his lips. For a moment, he leaned against the door frame, and just drank the picture in. The sun was barely coming up, scattering red and orange through the window and across the bed. Ty’s lithe and strong body outlined against the pale bedsheets and the worn quilts his mother had made so long ago. One, red and green for the Christmas season, was pulled up, above his chin. His black, silky, hair spilled just over the top of it.

Kit could just barely make out Ty’s eyes shutting even tighter against the sunlight filtering in. Using all his fairie and shadowhunter stealth, Kit pulled the curtain back, blocking out the sun. Ty sighed and relaxed. Carefully, gently, Kit climbed into the bed, beneath the quilts and blankets. He sank into the warm and familiar comfort that always came from being with Ty. Wrapping his arms around Ty’s middle, laying on his side and nuzzling his face into the back of Ty’s neck. He felt Ty hum beneath him. Felt the low baritone rumble through his chest and ripple up his neck.

He pressed a kiss into his (hopefully) soon to be fiancee’s soft curls. “Go back to sleep,” Kit whispered, the sound barely audible and low and throaty even to his own ears. Ty moved his hand to take Kit’s from where it rested around his waist. “Welcome home,” He murmured, sinking deeper into Kit’s embrace. Kit smiled, “What are you doing on this side of the bed?” He asked, because Ty liked things in order and he liked having his own side of the bed where he could keep his pillows straight and sheets tucked in while Kit’s side of the bed often laid a rumpled mess. “M’mells like you…” Ty trailed.

Kit feels his entire face heat up, and he’s grinning from ear to ear as he gives Ty another gentle squeeze and a kiss on the back of the head. "Did you win?" Ty asks, he sounds nearly asleep again. Kit chuckles. "Not at all." But Ty has already fallen back asleep, his chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm. It only takes a few moments, with him breathing in Ty's scent and the blankets warm around him, for Kit to drift off completely.

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myrandom-fandomlife · 4 years

Text

I Think I Kinda, You Know Chapter 2: Drunk

JJ Maybank x Carrera! Reader

Chapter 1

Gif Credit

Word Count: 997

Warnings: Profanity, sorta fluff

A/N: What’s up, bet you forgot about this series. Probably because I’ve been super busy and struggling to write for this. But it’s here! This is mostly a filler chapter, there’s some fluff, but I kinda find it boring. It’s sort of build up to chapter 3 which will have some major tea. I am already working on it too! Meaning it won’t be 8 years between updates. I apologize for the long wait bbys and ily. If you want to be tagged in future parts shoot me an ask! This is sorta edited but in my rush to get it up there may be a few mistakes :)

JJ ended up jumping out the window right before Kie burst into your room. She let you know about work and how she’d drive you, looking at you curiously then leaving you to get ready. You sigh and get dressed in your uniform, noticing how shaky your legs feel from last night’s activities. When you go to do your hair, you start pulling it back only to notice the dark purple spots JJ had left on your neck in a few places. “Damn it, J,” You whisper to yourself and grab your concealer.

You admire your handy work of covering the hickeys but still opt to leave your hair down for extra coverage. You let Kiara know that you’re ready then head downstairs to grab a granola bar and a bottle of apple juice. She drives you to work then heads to pick up the boys for a day at the beach. You would be joining them later.

Work was fairly uninteresting until Sarah came in for the last half of your shift. She claimed that she needed away from the guys while they were at the beach but you thought she might just be there for the air conditioning. She was fun to talk to while taking orders and wiping tables all the same. You listened to her chatter while you cleared and wiped one of your last tables. A whistle came from a few tables over, followed by, “Nice ass, baby girl.”

The catcall made you cringe and whip around, “Excuse me?”

“I said nice ass, baby. Wanna call me sometime?”

“No, she doesn’t, you scumbag. So fuck off.” Sarah loudly stated before you could retort.

“Damn, chill, sorry.” The man says, but he doesn’t sound very apologetic.

You raised your eyebrows at Sarah and she shrugged. You checked the clock and it was the end of your shift so you hung up your apron and Sarah grabbed your hand to pull you outside.

“Beach time! Yay!” She exclaimed, making you laugh. It was a short walk from The Wreck so it wasn’t long before you spotted the boys and Kie playing beach volleyball. When you joined, you were on JJ’s team and Sarah decided to ‘ref’ the game with Pope.

“Hey pretty girl, took you long enough,” JJ says when you join him on his side of the net.

“He’s mad because we’re kicking his ass and he needs you to carry him,” John B calls with Kie nodding in agreement, getting ready to serve.

You laugh and get ready, the ball flys low, fast, but you dive to get it. A perfect pass for JJ to set up to you, which he does successfully, much to your surprise. You finish with a perfect hit, winning that point for your team.

“Yes! That’s how it’s done!” JJ jumps up then high fives you excitedly.

“JJ, Y/N did ⅔ of the work,” Kie states in a deadpan voice.

“Either way it’s our serve,” JJ says with a slight pout, making everyone chuckle.

You ended up winning the game by a point, your hitting and passing saved the game. JJ usually managed the setting pretty well, so you were pretty good when put together.

When the game was done, you all just laid on the beach, relaxing and playing games. JJ was being extra touchy, though. Hand on your thigh, around your waist or shoulders, legs on top of yours. No one else really noticed the little things like that because JJ is always touchy, but you knew they meant something different now.

The six of you were sitting around on towels, discussing plans for the night.

“Kegger?” Sarah suggested.

“I’m down.” You agree. You felt like getting super drunk.

“Me too,” Kie says with a smile. The rest of the pogues nod and agree.

“So, it’s settled. Party tonight at the boneyard!” Sarah says happily, clapping her hands together.

--------

The party is in full swing now. You’ve been there for a few hours and you’re in the middle of chugging your third beer of the night. When you stumble over to JJ he says, “Woah, don’t you think that’s enough?”

You sway and he puts a hand on your shoulder to steady you. “You l-look hot,” you slur, “But I want some more!” You’re half whining now.

“I think that is definitely enough for the night. You’re such a lightweight.” He laughs, “Okay, I’m gonna bring you home. Is that alright?” You think you nod and he picks you up bridal style. You make a quick stop at Kie so JJ can tell her he’s taking you home. When you get to the van, he carefully places you in the passenger seat and buckles you up. You aren’t really sure what happens because the next thing you know, you’re waking up while JJ is pulling into your driveway.

JJ carefully opens and closes the front door so he’s not too loud, still carrying you.

“Hey JJ,” You start.

“What is it, princess?” He smirks at you.

“You’re hot.” You grab the front of his old t-shirt and pull him into a searing kiss.

The blonde boy pulls away reluctantly, “Not right now. You’re drunk.”

“What!? Not a lot though!”

He sighs, “How about we get upstairs and you get changed? Can you do that for me?”

You nod slowly and he helps you upstairs. When you get to your room, you start undressing and finding new clothes. While you’re doing that, JJ is rummaging through the medicine cabinet in your bathroom. You lay in your bed and wait for him, but your eyelids are already getting droopy. When JJ comes back with a little cup of water and some pain killers, he sets them on your nightstand. For good measure, he moves your trash can next to your bed. JJ kisses your forehead and whispers, “Goodnight princess.”

You wake up with a massive hangover, and an hour late for your shift at The Wreck.

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#jj maybank #jj x reader #jj obx #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x carrera! reader #obx #outer banks #itikyk #jj maybank smut #kiara carrera #sarah cameron #john b routledge #john booker routledge #pope heyward

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sugarsugarmoon · 5 years

Text

Dearly Beloved

Summary: Your friend from high school, Taehyung, helps you out when you need a wedding date.

Genre: SMUT and a little bit of fluff

Warnings: Masturbation, swearing, recreational alcohol use, oral sex (f. receiving), unprotected sex (plz use protection irl), spanking, some biting, dom!Taehyung, brat!reader

a/n: sorry Triv. sorry mom. If digital headstones are a thing by the time I die, please put this gif on mine. I listened to “Earned It” by The Weeknd the whole time I wrote all the nasty stuff.

Word Count: 6473

Your best friend is sweet and kind. She is the most generous person that you’ve ever met, and she can make you laugh harder than anyone on this planet. She has cradled you in her arms as you cried over boys, and, when your dad nearly died of cancer, she was there with you in the hospital every day, coffee in hand, ready to listen or just sit with you.

You take a deep breath through your nose and remind yourself of all of this. You love her more than pretty much anyone on this planet, but in this moment you have never wanted to slap her so much in the whole time you’ve known her.

She has been planning and preparing for her wedding for over a year, and the date is only two weeks away. The extravagance of it isn’t really your style, but she’s one of those people that has been dreaming of her wedding since she was a little girl. She has a vision.

At this present moment, you are surrounded by small cuts of lumber, empty vases, fake greenery, and tea lights. Your job today is to assemble the centerpieces. You sit in the middle of the room on the floor, surrounded on all sides by your craft supplies. She is standing just outside your ring of accoutrements, crying and yelling. You aren’t totally sure what she’s yelling about. Seating arrangements? Maybe someone canceled? Honestly, at this point it’s unintelligible, so you decide it’s best to just let her carry on.

“And you!” you hear, clear as day.

You look up from your project and see her finger pointing toward wear you sit on the carpet. You look behind you, half expecting someone else to be there; you’ve done nothing but help. You turn back to her and barely raise a finger to point to yourself and raise your eyebrows in bewilderment. You mouth, “me?”

“Yes, you! Who else would it be? God.” You know she’s just stressed, so you take a deep breath and clench your fists around the fake greenery in your hands. “When we first started planning, you said you were gonna have a date, and I’m sorry things didn’t work with Yoongi, I really am, but now the seating arrangement is fucked and the whole entrance of the wedding party is fucked. It’s fucked, y/n. Could you just ask Yoongi to go with you?”

“Just ask Yoongi?” you spit back, “You want me to ask the man who broke my heart? Tore it into a million little pieces, who is, mind you, already going to be at the wedding because he’s friends with your future husband, to be my date? So...what? So I can get my hopes up again when he’s nice to me, because of course he will be, and get my heart smashed again? Oh but your seating arrangement will be good, so I should just suck it up. Right. Sure.”

You’re standing now, having spilled tea lights all over the floor with the sudden movement. You are breathing heavily, fists clenched at your side, tears threatening to burst from your eyes. Things didn’t work out when you had told your workaholic boyfriend, Yoongi, that you wanted to get more serious, maybe move in together and consider marriage. You don’t think he meant to laugh at you, but he did laugh when you brought it up. He said that it was clear the two of you wanted different things, and he ended it with you. You clearly aren’t over him yet, and she knew that.

Your friends face softens for a moment. You can see the reality of what she said smoothing her features.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m just so stressed…” she trails off.

“Look, you want me to get a date? I’ll get a fuckin’ date. But I will not be caught dead on Min Yoongi’s arm.” You turn on your heel and let yourself out of her house, slamming the door behind you.

When all the rage fades, you realize what you’ve said that you’re going to do. You also realize that you left all centerpieces unassembled in the middle of the floor. You call your best friends mom and ask her to go over and finish them.

“I am already on my way over there, sweetie. But did I hear right that you are going to get a date for the wedding? Where?” she asks, genuinely concerned.

You know she isn’t trying to be hurtful but c’mon, I know guys! You think to yourself. I know so many guys. I know...Yoongi for one, and Hobi. Granted Hobi is marrying my best friend in two weeks. I know….oh! Jungkook! Jungkook will totally go with me!

“I know guys!” you respond to her with excitement in your voice. “I actually have to call the guy that I’m asking right now though, so I’ll talk to you later. Thanks again for doing the centerpieces.”

As you hang up, you quickly scroll through the names on your phone until you land on Jeon Jungkook. You tap out the message on your screen quickly and send it away.

You: Hey JK! I was hoping you might be able to accompany me to a wedding in two weeks. It’s out of town, so hotel. All expenses paid. Huh?

You put your phone down feeling optimistic. Jungkook loves to dance, and he’s a fun guy. Not only does he seem like a living human male who will go with you, you actually don’t hate the idea of going together with him. The excitement doesn’t last long.

Jeon Jungkook: y/n! Hey! I wish I could, but I’ll be back home in Busan. I’m so sorry!

You: No prob, buddy. I’ll go with Yoongi 😬

Jeon Jungkook: No! I won’t let you do that! He broke your heart. Let me give you hyung’s number. You remember Tae? From high school? He’s cool, and he’s free (he just asked me to make plans that weekend). Hit him up.

He sends you the contact. Kim Taehyung. You stare at the number for a long time before you type up a text, and you stare at the text for even longer before you send it.

You: Hi Taehyung, this is y/n. JK gave me your number, and he said you might be free in two weeks to be my date to a wedding. Nothing weird or anything! I just can’t go alone, and if I don’t bring a date, my friend is going to make me go with my ex. It’s a long story. Anyway, it is out of town, but your hotel and all your food and stuff would be paid for. Just let me know.

You exhale a deep breath after you hit send. You hope it doesn’t sound too weird or desperate or anything even though you are definitely both weird and desperate.

Kim Taehyung: sure! I’m always down for an adventure.

You breathe a sigh of relief. Which is short-lived when you realize you don’t know anything about Taehyung anymore. You ran in the same circle in high school, connected by your mutual closeness to Jungkook. You text him back asking him to meet you for coffee, so you can go over the plan. The two of you decide to meet that afternoon, and the anxiety in your chest begins to loosen just a tiny bit.

….

When you get to the coffee shop, you find a spot by the window in the big squashy chairs. You order yourself a latte and play on your phone, waiting for Taehyung. You hear someone softly clear their throat, and your eyes scan the figure in front you. You don’t mean to give him the up-and-down, you really don’t. But the man standing in front of you is not the same Taehyung you remember. You remember a scrawny boy with too much eyeliner (yikes) trying to act like a man while still dealing with all his teenage emotions.

Before you stands, perhaps, the hottest man you’ve ever seen. He is tall, taller than he was when you last saw him, and he is fuller too. He is no longer gangly and awkward. He has broad shoulders, firm pecs, and toned arms that you can see straining against the fabric of his tight black shirt. His black hair is long and messy, and tendrils hang down into his eyes. He has a smile on his face when your eyes finally meet his.

“Hi, y/n! It’s been so long!” he exclaims as he reaches out and pulls you into a hug.

You are shocked by the sudden touch and hesitate to put your arms around him. Even while he holds you for a moment with your arms at your sides, you feel comforted and safe. He smells like lavender and chamomile mixed with something else - maybe just his own skin.

When he lets you go, he looks a little embarrassed and backs up into his chair across from yours.

The two of you catch up about what you’ve been up to since high school: college, careers, failed relationships. You tell him all about what happened with Yoongi, but you don’t mention that you’re not over it yet. He tells you that his ex-girlfriend cheated in a one night stand with a girl at a club, and he had been pretty broken up about it.

You set your plans for leaving to get to the wedding early together. You have to be there on Thursday night because the bachelorette party was Friday and the wedding was on Sunday. He agrees, and you say goodbye to one another, this time without the hug.

****

Thursday afternoon you are packing your bags making sure that you have everything when your phone rings. It’s your best friend, so you take a deep breath before you answer it, trying to stay as calm as possible since she is a total mess. “Good morning, my beautiful best friend and soon-to-be bride,” you say in a syrupy tone that she knows is facetious.

“I have bad news,” she huffs and without pausing she continues, “we booked the hotel when you and Yoongi were still together. So we only booked one room for you and Yoongi. So now Yoongi doesn’t have a room, and your date...Tae or whatever...doesn’t have a room either. And I know that I’m being insensitive right now, but you and Yoongi breaking up is the worst thing that has ever happened to me.”

She’s definitely crying and spiraling. “I mean...it wasn’t great for me either,” you attempt to joke, but she just sobs harder.

“Okay, okay. It’s fine. Yoongi will just stay with Hobi until Sunday, then on Sunday, you and Hobi are going to stay together anyway, yeah? So that problem is solved. As for Tae...I’ll talk to him, okay? No big deal,” you console her, unsure what you’re going to say to Tae.

She lets out a long sigh, but her crying seems to be evening out. “You’re right. Okay.” You finish the phone call and send a text to Tae.

You: So...funny story...youandihavetoshareahotelroomnowsorryokaybye

You toss your phone aside and finish packing your bags. As you are loading up the car, Tae pulls up. He looks just as good as he did the other day, wearing a loose t-shirt and gray sweatpants. He’s carrying a single leather duffle bag, and he has a huge smile on his face. He almost looks like he’s laughing.

The drive is only three hours, but it is long enough to be boring. You’re glad that you have company, and you and Tae crank up the radio singing along and laughing. You play car games together, and it is an overall good time.

When you get to the hotel, you are a little unsure of what to do or how to handle sharing a room with Tae. You slide the key in the door to the hotel room and exhale in relief when you see there are two beds in the room. You each take up your side and start to settle in.

When it’s time for you to get changed for bed, you awkwardly shuffle to the bathroom to change. Even though you normally just sleep in your underwear and a t-shirt, you put on a whole pajama get up because you aren’t sure how modest you should be with Tae.

When you come out, he’s scrolling through his phone. He looks up at you and gives you that warm, gentle smile again. How does he look so good just sitting on his bed playing on his phone?

“Hey, uh, so I usually just sleep in my underwear...but I can keep a shirt on if you want,” he says casually to you.

“Oh, uh, I mean, whatever you’re comfortable with. I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable on my behalf, seeing how you’re doing me a favor,” you ramble out.

You wish you said no. As soon as it happens, you really wish you’d told him to keep on a shirt and a parka and snow pants and maybe also a ski mask. To say he is hot is the understatement of the century. His toned honey toned skin is smooth across his chest, taut over his muscles. His boxer briefs sit low on his hips, and your eyes follow the curve of his muscles from his stomach down past his waistline.

You watch the muscles on his back flex as he climbs into bed. You lay your head back on the pillow, staring at the ceiling. What the fuck is happening? you think to yourself. You try to blink the images of his nearly naked body out of your head, but they are there even as you eventually fall asleep.

*********

All day Friday you help set up for the wedding. Tae comes by and helps for a while, and, when it’s time for the bachelorette party, he says he’s going to go find something to do in town. The girls all go out, drink, and celebrate your best friend.

After the bachelorette party, you are feeling light and drunk and, for the first time in a while, you feel your shoulders relax. You say goodbye to the other girls in the lobby of the hotel and head to your room.

When you get there, there’s only one lamp on, and the room is empty besides your bags. You are painfully aware of the silky material of your dress against your skin, especially without a bra on. You feel so hyper-sensitive with the alcohol coursing through your veins. You skate your fingertips up your arms and across your collarbone. You feel yourself soaking your panties, and your nipples are hard against the silky material.

Your head isn’t totally clear, and you slide the straps of your dress off and let it pool on the floor around your feet. You stand in the middle of the floor in nothing but your panties and your heels for a moment, barely touching your skin on your neck and down your chest and belly.

You lie back on the bed, fuzzy head telling you to take care of it. You lick your fingers and take one of your nipples between your index finger and thumb. You feel your hips buck a little bit, feet, still in your heels, planting on the bed. With the way your feet are planted, your legs are open wide, and, if you weren’t wearing underwear, your pussy would be on full display. You bring your hand down to your panties. You run your fingers along the waistband before passing your hand over your covered folds, barely applying any pressure. You have decided to take it slow. You haven’t been with anyone since Yoongi, and you have been too busy to even consider masturbating. Now, you have the time, and you are soaking through your panties.

You close your eyes, and you see the way that Tae’s shirt fits across his chest, the way the rolled up sleeves accentuated his biceps, the way that his sweatpants yesterday left nothing to the imagination. You see the way his bare chest is broad and smooth, the way his underwear sit on his hips, bulge prevalent. You imagine the way he smelled when he’d pressed you into his chest. You want to drown in his smell.

You slide your hand into your underwear, drawing languid circles on your clit, sliding your finger through your arousal and back up to your clit. You feel like you are not in control of what your body is doing and small moans start to slip out of your mouth. You feel “Tae” come off your lips over and over.

“What?” you hear from near the door, but you think it might be coming from outside of the room and can’t process its proximity because the things you are doing are overwhelming you.

A whimper that turns into a yelp followed by “oh my god” comes from within the room, and your eyes snap open. Tae is standing at the end of the bed, eyes wide, mouth open, frozen in place.

You scream and try to get up from the bed quickly, but you are drunk and wearing heels, and you lose your balance. Instead of getting away from him, you stumble toward him. He throws his arms out to catch you, steadying you as your mostly naked body presses against him. And you are mortified, but the scent of him makes your pussy clench. In that instance, you’re a little angry that you didn’t get to finish.

“Are you okay? How drunk are you? I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to...I just...we’re both in here. I didn’t know. That’s my bed, by the way. But that’s neither here nor there. Are you okay?” he rambles, trying not to look at you.

You pull away from him quickly covering your chest as you run over to the other side of the room to grab a t-shirt and sweatpants. You throw the shirt over your head, and, as you try to put on the sweatpants, you realize you’re still wearing the goddamn heels. You throw them off as quickly as you can and pull the sweatpants on. When you look up from your panicked clothing debacle, Taehyung is looking anywhere but at you.

“Tae...I’m sorry. I’m just...I’m-I’m drunk, and I’m horny. I’ll go stay somewhere else.”

“Wait no…” Tae starts, but you are gone before he can even finish. You go to your best friend’s room, and she welcomes you in. When you tell her what happened, she laughs hard, pretty drunk herself. You agree to not talk about it any further.

*********

Besides avoiding Taehyung, the next day and half go by smoothly. You are busy setting up for the wedding. The hairstylist and makeup artist take care of you before the wedding, and your friend’s mom brings your dress and shoes to you. You haven’t had to go back to your room for anything, but you are dreading sitting next to Tae at the reception. The dread is briefly overshadowed by the love and pride that you have for your best friend and Hobi during the ceremony.

The ceremony goes off seamlessly, and you are so happy for your friends that you forget for a little while to be embarrassed. When it’s time for the reception, you realize that you have to enter with Tae for the processional. He meets you by the doors, looking pretty annoyed. He doesn’t say anything to you, and he just offers you his elbow when it’s time for you to enter the banquet hall. You walk in holding his arm, faking a smile, and take your seats at the table, followed by the remaining bridesmaids with their dates.

Throughout dinner, Tae continues to ignore you. You think to yourself if anyone should be avoiding anyone, it’s me avoiding him, but you don’t say anything to him. At one point he gets up to go to the bathroom, and you sit alone, pushing your food around your plate.

“Is this seat taken?” you hear from an all too familiar voice. You force yourself to look up into his eyes, and Yoongi is staring back down at your with a smirk on his face. You don’t have the words to respond, so you just stare at him for a moment.

A deep voice from behind you says, “yeah, actually it is,” and then you feel a hand on your shoulder. Oh, so now he wants to pay attention to me. His hand feels like it’s burning your skin, and you want to lean into it.

“Oh sorry, man. It didn’t seem like you guys were together,” Yoongi says, confused but still confident.

“Yeah, well, we are. Why don’t we go dance, y/n?” Tae hisses through his teeth.

“I’m kind of talking to Yoongi right now,” you say to him.

“Yeah, that’s all good, but I really like this song. So come dance with me,” he insists, pulling your wrist a little.

“Yeah...okay fine,” you mumble as you take your napkin out of your lap. Yoongi is looking at you dumbfounded, and you shrug and follow Tae to the dance floor. He pulls you in and presses his body fully against yours. Is this some kind of weird possessive shit?

“So you’re going to ignore me all night and then get pressed when Yoongi tries to talk to me?” you snap, annoyed.

“First of all, you left me alone in that hotel room for two days, so who’s really ignoring whom? Why can’t you, for once, just be a good girl and do what I say?”

You can’t deny that the expression “good girl” coming from his mouth does something to you, but you are already heated. “Oh, yes sir. I’ll be the goodest girl because you just dragged me over here and are being an ass, so I better be good for you. Fuck off,” you spit at him, rolling your eyes.

“Well, you told me how Yoongi broke your heart. And you weren’t gonna tell him to get lost, so I did you a favor. You should be thanking me,” he spits out.

“What’s your deal, Tae? It’s not like we’re actually dating or anything.”

You swear he growls in his chest a little bit, then he spins you before pulling you back into his body. “Well, maybe I want to be,” he mutters.

Before you have a chance to talk, the MC comes on and asks everyone to clear the floor for all the first dances, father dances, mother dances, second-cousin dances. It goes on for so long that you decide to return to the table, and Taehyung follows you. You sit down, fully prepared to demand an explanation from him when the photographer comes up to your table.

“Can I get a picture of you two?” she asks with a bright smile.

You can’t bring yourself to say no to her cheeriness, so you agree, doing your best to smile for the camera.

“You know what would be really cute?” the photographer starts, and you feel the dread building in your chest, “if you sat in his lap.”

Oh my gods, ugh. You are incredibly annoyed, but you know that this innocent woman doesn’t understand the very weird situation going on. So you, once again, reluctantly agree. You climb into Taehyung’s lap, and the energy immediately feels different. He clears his throat behind you and slides his arms around your waist. While the photographer tries to get a better angle (why is she taking so long!?), Taehyung starts to slide his hand down your thigh.

“I heard you,” he whispers to you, smile still stretched across his face. “I heard you say my name. You can’t act like you don’t want me. I heard you.”

“What are you talking about?” you ask defiantly, knowing exactly what he’s talking about.

“You know what I’m talking about. You said my name. I’ve wanted you since the day I met you. I had such a big crush on you in high school, but you were oblivious. Now, you see me. Now, you want me. I heard you.”

As the photographer walks away, you don’t try to get up. You just shift a little in his lap. With the movement you can feel, very clearly, as if there was hardly any fabric between you at all, the outline of his cock, half-hard against your ass.

“Are...are you not wearing underwear, Tae?” you ask, feeling flustered, face hot.

“I tell you I heard you say my name while you were touching yourself on my bed. And you ask if I’m wearing underwear. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to take advantage of me,” he professes with a smirk.

You look around frantically to make sure no one heard him, but your head snaps back to look at him when you feel his fingers teasing the hem of your dress against your thigh. You can feel the movement causing a rush between your thighs, and you can’t focus on anything except the way his hand feels on your skin.

“Tae…” you whisper, trailing off.

“Say it, y/n. Say you want me.”

“We can’t do this here, Tae. There are so many people here,” you say looking around at all of your friends, who you would be mortified if they found Tae with his hand in your dress.

“If you say that you want me right now, I’ll take you upstairs, and I’ll fuck you like you deserve to be fucked,” he whispers, letting his hot breath run over your ear.

Shit. Shit. Am I doing this? Fuck it.

“Tae, I want you...right now,” you practically moan.

With that, he’s up out of his seat, adjusting his pants. He ushers you out of the hall with his hand on the small of your back. You clamber into the elevator, and, when the door shuts, he is all over you. His mouth is on your ear and your neck, your collarbone and the curve of your shoulder, you chest and the upper swell of your breast. He’s kissing every exposed inch like he’s been poisoned and the only antidote is in your skin.

The elevator door opens on your floor, and the two of your practically run to your room. He slides the key card in and flings the door open. He kicks it closed behind you, and he takes off his tie and begins unbuttoning his shirt. He turns around to look at you, lacing his fingers in the hair on the back of your head down to the nape of your neck. He’s big eyes are peering into yours, searching your face.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks in a deep rasp.

“Tae, you’ve already kissed my whole chest. Yes,” you say back with a bite to your tone. You can’t help but want to contradict him and push his buttons.

He smashes his lips into yours, a deep, hungry kiss. All of his annoyance and frustration seems to come out with his kiss too. He nips your bottom lip and pulls it a bit before letting it going. He goes right back to you, forcing his tongue into your mouth.

“Are you going to be a good girl for me now?” he asks when he pulls away.

“I don’t know,” you tease. “I guess we’ll have to see.”

“How is ‘babygirl?’ Is that okay with you?” he asks looking into your eyes again.

“Babygirl is fine,” you reply, “but I’m not your good girl.”

He growls at you from his chest, scrunching his nose. You feel the tension in your stomach building and you know that your panties are useless at this point they are so soaked. He leans into you, reaching around your back, unzipping your dress. You shimmy it off your body, letting it pool on the floor around your feet, just like you had down two days before.

You runs his fingertips across your skin from your collarbones over your breasts, gently catching your nipples, down your stomach, across the waistband of your underwear. He bends his knees, setting one on the floor, and he keeps tracing his fingers down your thighs, over your knees, and around your ankles. He presses his mouth to your hip and your thigh while he caresses the inside of your legs up to your thigh and back down to your ankle. Then he pulls the strap off both of your ankles from your shoes and pulls them off your feet. Your skin feels like it’s on fire with every touch from Tae’s fingers, and you feel your pussy clench around nothing with every move he makes.

While still on his knee, Tae looks up at you through his lashes. He asks in a commanding tone, “Babygirl, if you need me to stop you just say red, okay?” And you nod.

“Now, are you going to be good for me while I lick your pussy?”

Your breath catches, and your heart pounds in your chest. “I don’t want to be good,” you sass, voice hoarse already.

His teeth bite down on the skin of the inside of your thigh. “Are you talking back to me, babygirl?”

You are too stunned to come up with anything clever, so you just nod.

He bites down again on your other thigh. “Use your words,” he commands.

You are so wet and so overwhelmed. He is too much for you already. “Yes, I was talking back to you,” you pant out.

He stands up from between your thighs, and you feel remiss that you let your brattiness get in the way of having him licking you. He whispers, “you’re being a bad girl.”

You stick your tongue out at him in response, unable to stop yourself. His hand comes up to your chin and holds your head so you have to look him in the eye. “Look at me,” he demands. “You better start behaving, you little monster.”

For some reason, him calling you a little monster does something to you. You don’t know if you’ve ever been this turned on. “I’ll be good. I’m sorry.”

You lean to kiss him, and he catches your lips in another bruising kiss.

“Lie down on the bed and take your underwear off,” he says as he stands back from you, palming himself through his pants, seeking some relief.

Once you’re in position, he pushes your legs up, so your knees are bent. You are in the same position that you were just two days ago when he walked in on you. He whispers so pretty, then kisses gently on your clit and down your folds. He barely slides his tongue into your pussy, then drags it all the way up you, collecting your arousal on his tongue.

“So wet for me, babygirl.”

He takes his tongue and draws slow, steady circles on your clit while he brings his hand to your entrance and slides too fingers in. He immediately pushes them all the way in without letting you adjust, then he curls them upward. His lips wrap around your clit, and he sucks.

You groan beneath him. He feels like he knows exactly what your body wants and needs. He is intuitive to your body, and your head is swimming. Your skin is burning, and your hips start to buck, even as he uses one hand to try to still you.

“Tae, I’m going to cum,” you gasp.

“No, you aren’t,” he says against your clit, “you’ll cum when I tell you to cum. And do you know why?”

You shake your head, back arching up off the mattress.

“This pussy is mine. Your orgasms belong to me, understood?”

“Yes,” you whine, “please, Tae…”

“Say it,” he commands for the second time tonight.

You moan as he continues his unforgiving ministrations with his fingers and his tongue. “Fine. This pussy is yours. My orgasms belong to you.”

“Good girl,” he whispers and pulls his fingers out of you and pulls his mouth away.

“No, no,” you whine at the lost of contact

“You better start being good, babygirl. You better start showing me that you deserve to cum.”

You really don’t mean to say it, but your bratty side comes out again. You look him in the eye and defiantly say, “Make me,” crossing your arms over your chest.

He leans over your body and picks you up, flipping you over easily. He commands you to get on your hands and knees.

“I’m going to punish you, babygirl. Do you remember the word to say if it’s too much?”

“I remember, yes.” You crawl onto your hands and knees and push your ass toward him, taunting him. You have your legs spread, and with the way you have put your head down on the mattress, your pussy is on full display for him. He can see how slick you are for him and because of him. You can feel how swollen your clit is, and all you want is for him to touch you again. Instead, he brings his hand down with a smack on your ass. You hiss from the sting, but you feel yourself growing wetter somehow. You moan and push your ass further back toward him. He lands four more spanks on the same cheek, and it stings as he rubs his hand over the spot. He presses his lips to the tender spot, and then he presses his lips against your wet pussy before pulling away.

You try to bite back the whine that is trying to escape your chest. You turn to look at Tae over your shoulder, and you should have just kept looking forward. His pupils are huge, and his hair looks like he’s been running his hand through it. His lips are swollen, and his cheeks are pink. You let out a moan at the sight of him. Desperate to cum.

“Please, Tae. Please let me cum,” you beg, feeling like you might cry.

“Turn around, baby girl,” he says a little more gently than his last commands.

You turn around, and he steps up right in front of you as you sit on the end of the bed. He puts his fingers on your chin again and angles your head up to him. He presses a gentle kiss to your mouth, and then he grabs your hands and brings them to his belt. You can see the outline of his cock through his tight black pants. You have never wanted a cock more in your life than you want his right now.

You unbutton his pants, and the flesh of his dick is right inside the zipper. So he wasn’t wearing underwear. You push his pants down, and he steps the rest of the way out of them. He takes his cock in his hand and strokes it. You look up into his eyes to wait for him to tell you what to do.

“Lie down, babygirl,” he says, and you immediately obey.

His eyes flash with realization for a moment. “I don’t have a condom,” he says in panic, his breathing quickening.

“It’s fine. Are you clean? I’m fine. Birth control. Just fuck me raw,” you can’t think and words are tumbling past your lips.

“I am clean. You’re on birth control? You’re clean?” he asks, slightly more coherent than you are.

“Yes to both. Fuck me raw, Tae, please,” you beg. You feel desperate and crazy.

He pulls your hips to the end of the bed, still standing in front of you. He drags his cock through your arousal, getting his dick slick before he presses against your entrance. He pushes slowly into you, and you feel every millimeter of him exploring every millimeter of you. You let out a loud guttural moan as he continues to push all the way in. He brings his thumb to your clit and pushes messy circles there, and you clench around his dick.

“Fuck, babygirl, you can’t do that. I’m not gonna last long anyway,” he says as he draws himself slowly back out of you and pushes back in slowly.

“Tae…” you pant.

“I know, babygirl. You have to hold on though. Remember your orgasm is mine.”

He starts to thrust in and out of you more urgently. He’s panting, hair falling into his eyes. His breath is ragged as he continues to rub unforgiving circles on your clit. He pushes his hair back with his one free hand, and his tongue darts out to lick the corner of your mouth. You feel yourself careening toward the edge, and you don’t want to disappoint Tae but also can’t stop it. You pant out his name again.

“Cum for me baby girl,” he whispers as he bites your ear lobe, thrusts becoming erratic. You tumble over the edge, warmth filling your stomach as your pussy clenches around him, and your mind goes black as your eyes pinch shut and all of your muscles contract. You let out a low, loud moan, and Tae is crashing like a wave too. He cums hard and moans a long moan, filling you with cum and continuing to fuck it up into you. His hips only stop when you have regained your senses enough to open your eyes.

After he pulls out of you, he disappears for a second. He returns with a warm washcloth. He sets to work cleaning you and then himself. He takes the towel back to the bathroom, and then climbs into bed next to you. “What can I do to take care of you, babygirl?” he asks, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“I want to cuddle you, and maybe watch The Grinch,” you respond in a sleepy voice.

He gets you both under the covers, then pulls your body close to his. “I’ll try to find it, but we might have to watch something else,” he explains as he grabs the remote and flicks on the TV.

“Hey Tae?” you say after you settle on watching HGTV.

He hums in response and pulls his eyes from the screen to look at you. “Can we like...go on a date soon?” you ask, suddenly nervous even though you’re both naked, cuddled in a post sex cocoon.

“I want nothing more than that...and we probably should since your pussy is already mine anyway,” he smiles a huge smile and presses kisses to your temple, cheek, and jawline. You snuggle back in and eventually fall asleep wrapped in one another.

#taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung imagine #taehyung fanfic #taehyung x y/n #bts smut #bts fanfic #kim taehyung: actual demon

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technicolor--dreams · 3 years

Text

the object of her affection chapter 18 (FINAL CHAPTER)

Hello, Idk if anyone is still reading (i did post this for the 3 people who were kind enought to relpy they were interested, after all ) but if you read this all the way through:

thank you

PLEASE feel free to let me know if you liked it, or if you didn’t, or any other thoughts about it, really, i would be delighted!

I’ll be back by christmastime with another story, this time based on jugenea (not them irl but their movies) - i would post it now but it’s set on xmas, so i’ll wait - but again, feel free to let me know if that is somehting you would like to read :)

enjoy the last chapter, finger crossed it won’t let you down!

The next morning, Susan stood by the airport gate, Oscar secured into his doggy carrier next to the rest of her luggage. Her mother, father Joseph and Connor watched over her, some more misty eyed than others, but all quite emotional in their own way.

"Do you have everything?" Mrs. Holbrook asked.

Susan nodded, but her mother didn't listen and fished out a packet of ritz crackers and seltzer water out of her giant purse. "Here. Don't believe what they say. Airplane food is still airplane food, no matter what class you're travelling. This will help you with hunger and the altitude, in case you get sick."

"Darling, she's moving out, not shipping off to war!" her husband exclaimed, before addressing his daughter. "You know I'm not good at this sentimental stuff, but I'm proud of you, and I'm sorry if I caused you any trouble. Now, go out there and prove me right."

"Thank you. I will." Susan replied, hugging her father on an impetus. In turn, he patted her on the back.

Mrs. Holbrook, at this sight, couldn't help but burst into tears, sobbing into her embroider handkerchief.

"My baby!" she jumped into her daughter's arms. "Re-member to - call. Don't forget - about your poor folks!" she blabbed through sobs, refusing to let go.

“You’re wetting her suit!” her husband said, dragging her away gently and circling his arms around her shoulders. “Come here.”

When it came his turn to say goodbye, Joseph stepped forward, a nervous smile plastered on his face.

“So ...” he began. “I don’t know what to say.”

“I do.” Susan replied. “Thank you for calling Connor.”

“I didn’t know how else to get him here. I hope you’ll forgive my unorthodox methods.”

“You’re speaking to the queen of unorthodox methods. In fact, you don’t even know the half of it.”

Joseph furrowed his brows. “Always been a woman of mystery, uh?”

“It’s part of my charm.” Susan shrugged.

“So, friends?” he extended his hand.

“Yes. Friends.” she shook his hand back, and he dragged her into a quick half-hug.

Hug over, she took the chance to change the subject. “Have you talked to Helen, by chance? I saw her at the party last night.”

“We spoke briefly.”

“Make things right with her. I think she misses you, even if it’s hard for her to admit it. She’s a swell girl, you know? I like her very much.”

“Me too.”

“Good.” she poked him playfully on the shoulder blade. “Then prove it.”

“I hope you’re right.” Joseph replied, looking wistfully into the distance.

“Was I ever wrong?”

“Some things will never change.” Joseph laughed, and Susan joined him. “Have a safe trip.” he then said, said, before kissing her on the cheek and stepping away.

When it came Connor’s turn to say goodbye, the other three decided to give the two lovers some privacy, and sat on a bench a few feet away.

“I wish you could come there with me now.” Susan sighed.

“Me too. But It’s only a couple of weeks. As soon as I sort things out with work and find a place to stay, I’ll be there. What’s that compared to three months, after all?”

“That’s different.” Susan replied. “Before, I thought you’d never come back. Now I’ll count every minute until you do.”

“I’ll call every day. And as soon as I get my ticket, I’ll give you the details.”

Susan nodded, a slight pout on her ruby lips.

“Come here.” Connor said, holding her tight and pressing a kiss on top of her head.

Their interlude didn’t last long, for it was soon interrupted by a feminine voice, announcing final boarding for Susan’s flight.

“That’s me.” Susan said, gathering her bags.

“Alright. So ...” Connor said morosely. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Two weeks” she replied, a little misty eyed.

Then, before Connor could blink, she was already at the boarding door, waving in his direction. He waved back weakly, before she disappeared altogether from his sight.

4 years later …

"Gordon Hewitt ..." the Dean of faculty called in a resounding voice, and Susan tapped her shoes impatiently, watching the fair young man in front of her stepping on the stage, before accepting his diploma and turning the tassel on his left side as per tradition.

"Susan Holbrook ..." she finally heard her name being called, and all she could hear was the pounding of her heart and her heels clacking on the wood.

After she turned took her diploma and turned her tassel, she turned around to face the crowd. Connor and her parents stood by the middle row, slighly off to the left, applauding and smiling proud. Joseph couldn't be there as much as he wish he could've come, but to be fair, he had a pretty good excuse, so she didn't hold it against him. As usual, her mother was wiping tears from her face.

Susan smiled and waved, before winking in Connor's direction, who in turn shook his head, and laughed. Until she got married, or had children, this would be the best day of her life.

* * *

After the ceremony, her parents insisted to treat her and Connor to a british style five o’clock tea in one of the best (and most expensive) tearooms in San Francisco.

"I know this isn't exactly your scene." Susan whispered to Connor as they sat down in the ornate, Victorian style room. "I told them not to go to any trouble, but you know how they are."

"It's alright." He patted her hand under the table. "It's your day."

A waiter soon arrived, and after everyone made their orders, the group fell into an easy conversation.

“So, tell me everything about the baby.” Susan told her mother. “I’m so curious.”

“Joseph didn’t tell me much, he was quite frazzled himself. All I know is, her name is Daisy, she was born yesterday at noon, and she weighs six pounds.”

“How’s Helen?”

“Good. Tough, you can imagine, with two children under the age of four, she won’t sleep for a while.”

“Oh, I must ask her to send us a picture of the children together.” she told Connor. “We haven’t seen little Joey since Christmas.”

“He’s already three feet and half. He’s gonna be tall.” Mr. Holbrook said, as though that was somehow a point of pride.

Finally, their desserts arrived – lemon tart for Connor, chocolate pudding for Susan, coconut cream pie for Mrs. Holbrook, and scones for her husband.

“How’s the pudding?” Connor asked, beginning to dig into his tart.

“Uhm, Are nuts supposed to be in this?”she replied, after a couple of spoonfuls.

“I don’t think so. Why?” her mother asked.

“There’s something crunchy down there.” she wrinkled her nose.

“Dig it up, maybe it’s a cherry.” Connor told her.

Susan inserted her spoon into the glass once again, and lifting it up she couldn’t hide her surprise. “… I don’t think cherries are supposed to sparkle.”

“Well, how did that get in there?” Connor feigned innocence, as Susan picked out the Ruby red ring and cleaned it with a napkin.

“You tell me.” she replied back.

“You said you would think about getting married only after you graduated. So, let’s do it, before you start law school.”

“But – how did you know we would come here … “ she asked before turning towards her parents. “You guys were in on this, weren’t you?”

Her parents merely shrugged, smiling from ear to ear at their cleverness.

“I have to say, mother’s poker face game has seriously improved.”

“So?” Connor asked, quite impatient. “What do you say about a summer wedding?

“Summer’s perfect.” Susan replied, putting the ring on her left finger.

And it really was.

#writing #novells #fiction

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katsukikitten · 5 years

Note

Bakugo and Y/N are the last two surviving players during dodgeball i thought it would be kinda funny whah :pp

Ask and ye shall receive. I had so much fun writing this. thank you

I present you

DODGE THIS

You slide your soft grey cotton shirt that says UA over your black laced bra sighing to yourself as you wonder why the hell a hero academy had a regular ass gym class in addition to training. You adjust your black shorts in the mirror trying hard to pull them further over your ass to no avail. There was just not enough material to cover your ass causing them to be crescent shorts. You growl in frustration, giving up as you sit to tie your tennis shoes. Mina slides onto the bench next to you wearing a shit eating grin. A grin that is always somehow contagious as you feel it begin to take form on your lips.

"Yes Mina dear?" You giggle as she practically vibrates, ready to burst with whatever "tea" she has to spill.

"I heard a rumor." She exclaims as the other girls begin to exit towards the gym.

"Uh oh. What kinda rumor?"

"The kind that seems true." She leaves it at that. As if you'd be dying to know the rest but you aren't.

Plus you know she can't stand not saying whatever juicy information she is holding in.

It kills her.

"Fine you've pried it from me." She exclaims in the next breath not even giving you time for the response you didn't plan to give.

"Bakugouhasahugecrushonyou!KirishimatoldmelatelastnightbyaccidentsoIknowitstrue." She rushes her words all together and you stare astounded as all you heard was Bakugou, crush on you.

"Wait what?!" You stand but Midnight yells into the locker room.

"Today please ladies!"

Mina rushes from the locker room, pulling you by the wrist as you're left with your thoughts.

Bakugou has a crush on you? Please he barely looked your way not to mention you two loathed each other always competing to be at the top.

Mina pulls you all the way to line up with the rest of the girls and you peer at the boys across from you.

How is it that Bakugou is directly across from you today of all days. He does not look your way and when he does his eyes narrow to slits.

"Okay today we are doing a good old fashion boys vs girls!" Midnight announces happily, "In a game none other than.."

She looks to Aizawa to finish the sentence to which he grunts at first before adding in the most apathetic tone ever uttered.

"Dodgeball." He barely opens his eyes as he snuggles into his bright yellow sleeping bag.

"That's right!" Midnight clearly holding all of the enthusiasm, "Now girls to the left boys to the right! Line up and when I yell go let the free for all begin!"

"But the boys have a bigger advantage than us by having more bodies on their team." You add as you look at how they have double the people.

"That is true but you girls are resourceful. I know you can win even with the disadvantage."

"Hey!!!" Half of the boy's team whines.

"Now no more fussing I advise you ladies get ready!"

You line up near the front mumbling to yourself. you quickly notice that you're the only girl going to grab a ball at the start.

*What the fuck* you think to yourself as you peer over your shoulder before being met face to face with a glaring set of blood eyes.

"I'll end you." He growls fingers reached out in perfect calm, waiting for the signal.

You return the glare and slide a finger over your throat not trusting your voice just yet.

"GO!"

You grab with your left as Katsuki purposefully went for your right, he aims and takes his mark adding an extra punch with the smell of burning sugar.

You block the point blank shot with your own ball just in time, thanking Kamisama for your quick reflexes.

But they must not be as quick enough as you go to counter attack, Katsuki is already deeply behind the line now being fed balls by Sero who snatches the returned balls right out of the air. Anger fuels your actions as you chuck the ball towards him.

Sero is too distracted to notice the inbound object and the ball rings home with a nauseating *PANG* that echoes across the gym.

"Sero is out!" Midnight calls as you back towards the shrinking cluster of girls.

Midnight had already called Jiro who happily let herself get hit to avoid this game and Toru.

"Shit." You murmur as you look for a ball but see that the boys hold the majority. Mina attempts to launch one at Kaminari who just barely dodges, snatching the ball to return it.

"DO IT FOR THE VINE!!!" Kaminari screams as he throws the red rubber ball towards Mina. You catch it as she flinches heated to win, especially against a certain scarlet eyed boy.

"Vine is dead bitch." You say as you hurl it right into Kaminari's face. You threw the ball hard enough that it slams him into the brick wall causing a nice outline of his body to appear.

"Oh this is so going on Tok." Jiro snorts to herself as she captured the whole thing on her phone, one earphone jack plugged into it.

"Be sure to tag me..." Kamimari adds as the ball falls from his face. He rubs his hand over the new criss cross pattern that was left behind from the ball.

Todoroki stands still looking bored waiting for someone, anyone to hit him and so you end his misery with a light toss to which he let's bound off of him back onto the girls side.

"Oh no I've been ejected from the game." He says with mock concern as Bakugou practically blows a gasket.

"YOU'RE JUST GONNA LET EXTRA HIT YOU LIKE THAT?! GO OUT WITH SOME HONOR!" He yells and you laugh aloud.

Uraraka grabs the ball that ricocheted off of Todoroki and hurls it at Deku who barely dodges.

"I..I'm sorry." He yells as he throws the ball back only for U-chan to catch it with a satisfying *pang* of the ball. He blushes and gives her a thumbs up as he takes a seat next to Sero and Todoroki.

"Damn it Deku!" Katsuki yells as he hurls a ball at her, striking her in the side. The ball bounces to your feet, you snatch it, surveying who is left. An idea seems to come to life as you spot Momo with her ball sized shield.

"Momo can you make me some extra dodge balls?" You call out and she smiles happily.

"Cover me and I can!" She shouts back as she begins creating.

"Asui-chan, Mina. Help me cover Momo and make the numbers a bit more even. Mina Ojiro, Koda, and Sato have been sticking close together. Try to get them as I take care of Iida and Shoji who seem to be doing rapid fire."

You feel the wind of a ball whoosh past your face as you turn back to face the boys who are about fifty feet away. Katsuki snarls to himself having just missed you by mere chance.

Kirishima throws a ball your way that you catch earning him a seat on the bench. He murmurs a damn before sitting in the middle of the bleachers.

"GO MINA! GO BAKUGOU!" He shouts earning a glare from both parties as he clearly has a hard time giving all of his loyalty to one of them.

Mina sends a ball home, hitting a quickly tiring Sato hard enough that it bounces right off of him and into Koda's back. Both seem to slump as you yell a "Hell yea!" to your bubblegum pink friend.

Asui supplies another ball to Mina that Momo has made. They both manage to get Tokoyami and Ojiro who also slump go join the rest of the crew.

All the girls squeal with joy, including yourself.

Katsuki narrows his eyes and aims for Momo who is currently helping you three level the playing field. He hits his target in the back while Mina was distracted attempting to get a panicked Aoyama.

He picks up the closest ball to him and sends it blindly into the girls half of the giant gym. You're confused for a moment as something purple is hurled your way.

The purple object hits you right between your breasts and it buries its self deeper as your eyes widen.

"WHAT THE HELL?!" You scream as Mineta comes up for air. Nose clearly dripping blood as he stares up at you with hooded eyes with his drooling mouth agape.

A ball hits him in the back of the head hard enough that his face smashes into your sternum leaving a bruise in its wake on both Mineta's forehead and your breast bone.

The ball is charred as it bounces off kilter to the side line. Your widened eyes meet narrowed scarlet who sucks his teeth harshly before yelling as he throws more precisely aimed balls.

"Watch what the hell you're throwing idiot. It's two v one now. We cant lose." He says as he hurls two balls back to back too quickly for either Mina or Asui to dodge.

"Get him Y/N!" They shout as you chuck a ball fast enough for it to whistle straight for that smug, overly cocky somehow hot look. He dodges at the last second and the rubber finds purchase in the face of Aoyami.

"Figures I have to do everything fucking self." Bakugou murmurs as he takes in the playing field, rubber ball in hand.

He notices that you have fewer on your side than himself. Thanks to him taking out your little dodge ball factory. He assess as he tries to calculate his next move.

You notice too that you have less balls and to be out of the precious resource the only way to win would be to catch a ball.

You had three shots, one in your hand and the other two balls near the back of your territory to his six.

Twice as many opportunities for him seemed like a much greater advantage but then again so did twice as many bodies.

And still here you stood across from Bakugou who glistens in the harsh light of the gym.

Your heart pounds as you watch him, knowing full well of his ability to strategize, he was one of the few you have ever lost to or had difficulty winning against. He smirks as he finalizes his plan and you sit their wondering when he started to look so...different.

Has that smirk always made your stomach clench?

He rears the ball back and sends it quickly towards you. The hem of his shirt rises above his navel from the jump and you think has he always had abs?

The sound of the ball singing through the air registers not a moment too soon as you hit the ball lightly enough for it to land still on your half of the court but an odd sound catches your attention and you jump high into the air.

Narrowly avoiding the ball that was clearly aimed for your lower thigh to knee area. You backflip mid air with the precious ball still in your hands, your shirt following a bit late and unbeknownst to you flashing your stomach and even your black bra to Katsuki. Your tits fight inertia to stay in their neatly laced cups.

He swallows his desire as you land like a cat on your feet.

Something is odd about your landing and it takes him a moment to notice that you no longer have that damn ball.

But when the hell did you throw it and where?

He looks a moment too late and watches it head striaght for him.

The bell rings out overhead breaking the silent tension the two of you didn't realize had filled the gym air.

The ball bounces off of his chest AFTER the last chime of the bell screaming to change classes, it falls softly into his hands.

"It seems we have a draw." Midnight announces and the class erupts in shouts.

Everyone but the two of you who seem to lock eyes across the gym as a chorus of WHAT NO WAY AND SENSEI IS RIGHT echo through out the gym.

But it falls on deaf ears as two predators size the other up.

You wondering when he had gotten so handsome. Wondering how sweat and an arrogant grin can make some one so suddenly irrisitable.

While Katsuki is awestruck at your move, having accidentally taken advantage of throwing him off guard. Him wondering when you threw that ball

But most importantly had Mina told you what loud mouth Kirishima said?

And if she hadn't when was he going to swallow his pride long enough to tell you about it himself?

#bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha imagine #bnha prompt #ask kitten

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bluezey · 4 years

Text

Bedtime Story

To help Judy go to sleep, Ian and Barley tell the story of their quest for the Phoenix gem.

Get your tissues, bitches. Time for a good cry.

"Daddy?... Daddy?..."

Ian was stirring in his sleep, trying to avoid a nightmare. In his dream it was a normal day at school, but one by one everyone but him disappeared, and he was alone in the shadowy, barren halls. All he could hear echoing through his school was...

"Daddy?..."

Ian rolled over in his sleep, last sign that he was about to wake. He tried to keep asleep by placing a hand over his closed eyes.

"Mommy?..."

He recognized that voice. Ian sat up from his sleep, looking around Ian and Barley's shared bedroom. He caught Barley up and awake, then quickly turned away when he caught Barley quickly putting on shorts. Why does Barley have to sleep in just a shirt and underwear? "Barley."

"Its Judy," Barley explained as he finished getting dressed and headed out the door. "She's gonna wake up mom and dad."

Ian hopped out of bed. Thankfully he's dressed in an old t-shirt and some sweat pants. He quietly but quickly followed Barley up to Judy's bedroom. The boys caught Judy sitting in her bed, dressed in a pink nightshirt, her blankets tossed off of her. Ian looked down at his watch, it was almost midnight.

"Judy, what's wrong?" Barley asked.

"I can't sleep," Judy replied.

"Is that all?" Barley asked.

"Can you read me a story?" Judy asked.

Barley sighed as he flipped on the lights. Ian groaned from the sudden brightness before entering the room. The boys crossed the room and knelt by a small bookshelf, leafing through a handful of books.

Ian began reading the titles. "We got the Princess and the Pea, Little Red Riding Hood, Which Witch is Which, Chicka Chika Boom Boom..."

"I've heard those before," Judy replied.

"How bout Pretty Pretty Centaurs and the Mystery Tea Party?" Ian suggested.

Judy pouted. "I want a new story."

A smile grew on Barley's face. "I've got a story. A story you've never heard of. A story... starring your big brothers!"

Judy's elfin ears perked. "Really?"

Ian looked at Barley as he jumped to his feet. "Really?"

"The story of Ian and Barley's first grand and noble quest!" Barley declared.

Judy squealed with excitement, but Ian shushed her. "But you have to keep quiet, mom and dad are sleeping."

Judy covered her big excited smile with both hands. Barley tucked Judy back into her bed as she laid back down, the best way a centaur can sleep in a bed anyhow. Ian picked up the Princess Idina doll off the floor and handed her to Judy, which Judy caught in a big hug. Once Judy was tucked in for bed, Barley sat on the foot of the bed, with Ian sitting close to him on the side.

“Long ago,” Barley began, “long before you were born…”

“It wasn’t that long ago,” Ian corrected. “It was about a year before she was born.”

“That’s still a long time for a four year old, Ian,” Barley commented, before continuing. “Back then, it was just me, Ian and mom.”

“You mean there was no dad?” Judy asked.

“Colt was just dating mom,” Barley clarified. “That’s what grown ups do before they get married.”

“So there was a dad?” Judy asked.

Ian paused, realizing this story may be a bit complicated for a four year old. “It’s complicated. See, long before Colt- dad… your dad… Barley and I… we had another dad.”

Judy’s eyes grew wide with astonishment and confusion. “You had two dads?”

Barley and Ian laughed a little at the comment. Ian continued. “Our dad was named Wilden, and he was an elf. He was around when Barley was little, but right before I was born, he…” Ian paused, not sure how to explain death to a young child. “He… disappeared.”

“Why?” Judy asked. “Where did he go?”

Ian quietly replied, “We… don’t know.”

“But,” Barley interrupted, bringing back the acting bard side of himself, “today was the day we were going to bring him back. The day of Iandore’s sixteenth birthday!”

“Wow!” Judy exclaimed. “Ian, you were old!”

Barley burst out laughing while Ian had a flat look on his face. “Barley, we’re supposed to keep quiet.”

Barley stopped laughing and cleared his throat. “Anyway, our story begins the evening of Ian’s sixteenth birthday. That was when mom gave us a very important present. It was a gift that our dad had saved for us until both me and Ian turned sixteen.”

“What was it?” Judy asked.

“It was a wizard staff!” Barley replied, Ian shushing him.

Judy, however, was loud too. “Ian’s staff!”

“Eventually,” Ian continued. “Until then it was just a staff. Barley tried to use it first, but it didn’t work.”

“Oh, because you have the gift and not him,” Judy stated.

“That’s right,” Ian replied. “But he didn’t know that. And neither did I.”

“Not until you used the wizard’s staff,” Barley added playfully, before continuing the story. “With the staff was a powerful stone called the Phoenix gem, and an equally powerful spell that could bring one person back for one whole day.”

“And you brought your dad back, right?” Judy asked.

“Not exactly.” Ian explained. “Something went wrong, and it only brought dad halfway back. Like, just his legs.”

“And that’s when we knew our quest began,” Barley told the tale. “We only had twenty four hours to find another Phoenix gem, and bring back our dad.”

Judy was in awe. “Wow.”

“Dang right wow,” Barley replied.

“First, we needed to know where to find a Phoenix gem,” Ian said. “And Barley had his own gift of knowledge, which helped us find someone who had a map to the gem.”

“The Manticore,” Barley declared.

Judy lit up with excitement and sat up from her bed. “Aunt Corey!”

Ian smiled as he motioned for Judy to lay back down. “Yeah. Back then, though, she wasn’t part of the family yet. Just a big, scary beast who ran a tavern. At first, she wouldn’t give us the map.”

“Why?” Judy asked.

Ian paused, but realized this next part involves flames and a burning tavern, and he thought that would scare Judy and keep her awake. “She… was testing us,” he quickly changed the story. “But, she eventually saw the Heart’s fire inside me and Barley and knew we were worthy of the map. And the map said we should go to Raven’s Point.”

“So, with our destination, we headed north,” Barley continued the tale. “Towards the mountain.”

“But first, we had to stop to get gas for Guinevere,” Ian added.

“You mean the van?” Judy asked, pointing to the window outside.

“This was a different van,” Barley explained. “A different Guinevere.”

Judy was surprised. “You had two Guinnyveres?”

“Had, yes.” Barley got sad at first, but then shook his head. “But, we’re getting ahead of ourselves. So, we’re getting sustenance for ol’ Guinny, when we were suddenly chased by a gang of sprites.”

Ian made a concerned, worried face. He skipped over the fire, but Barley left in the biker gang? However, it made Judy laugh. Probably because Judy was imagining them as sparkly little pixies, and not vengeful blood-thirsty thugs.

“The sprites rode these wicked awesome motorcycles,” Barley told Judy, “so we had to get rid of them by going on this action-packed car chase.”

“And we got rid of the sprites,” Ian interrupted, before Barley got into any scary details, “but it got some cops attention.”

“Daddy?” Judy asked.

“Not yet, two different cops,” Ian explained.

“Oh! But we did use the disguise spell to pretend to be Colt!” Barley added.

“Right, the disguise spell,” Ian continued. “We used the spell to convince the cops as Colt to let us go. It was really hard to keep the disguise, because I had to keep telling the truth, and…”

Barley’s smile faded too. “Oh. This part.”

Judy was confused and on the edge of her seat. “What? What happened?”

Ian paused a moment before explaining, “The spell revealed something that I thought about Barley.”

“What was it?” Judy asked.

Ian didn’t have the heart to explain it. Instead, he skipped ahead. “I remember, whatever it was, it got Barley mad. And, we had a fight. But then…” Ian began to laugh. “And then, dad…” Ian couldn’t help it, he began to laugh even more, and Barley was laughing along with him.

Judy tilted her head as one of her elf ears perked up. “What’s so funny?”

Barley tried to explain through his laughter. “Our dad… which remember, is just a pair of legs at the time… he just… starts dancing.”

“Oh my gosh, it was so terrible,” Ian laughed.

“Yeah, it was something like this!” Barley stood up and started dancing erratically in the middle of the room.

Judy laughed the loudest of all of them. “Your dad sounds funny!”

Ian realized it was supposed to be a bedtime story, and the last thing they need is energy. “Okay okay, everyone settle down. Let’s finish this story and go to bed.”

“Okay okay.” Barley cleared his throat and sat back down on the foot of the bed. “So, we continue on our quest, following the ancient Path of Peril to Raven’s Point. When suddenly, we hit another obstacle in our quest: a bottomless pit. And the lever to release the drawbridge so we can safely cross over said pit was on the other side.”

Judy gasped. “What did you do?”

Ian gulped. There was no sugar coating this part of the story. “Barley had the bright idea to use the trust bridge.”

“But it worked!” Barley explained as he mimed with his arms and hands. “The trust bridge is a magic spell that creates an invisible bridge that you can walk across. But it only works if you trust the bridge is there.”

“And I was nowhere near as confident to believe that,” Ian continued. “So Barley had another bright idea of tying a rope around my waist in case the spell failed and I fell.”

“Oh, this is my favorite part!” Barley took over the story. “So after one or two tries, Ian has enough confidence for the spell to work. And he begins walking over the invisible bridge, right? But, halfway across the pit, the rope slipped off of Ian.”

Judy gasped loudly. “Ian fell in?”

“No, thank goodness,” Ian sighed. “I didn’t notice the rope was gone, so I thought it was still tied to me. That was thankfully enough confidence I needed to cross the bridge, get to the lever and lower the drawbridge. But, I still wasn’t happy to know that the rope was gone.” Ian glared at Barley.

Barley shrugged. “Hey, it’s not like you needed it.” Judy laughed before Barley continued. “So just as we’re about to embark on the quest, we get stopped by Colt.”

“Daddy’s in the story now?” Judy asked with a smile.

Barley paused, remembering how this part went. “Oh.” He glanced over to Ian for help.

Ian tried to explain, “Colt didn’t know what we were doing, so he thought he was doing the right thing when he told us to turn around and go home. It’s not his fault, he didn’t know any better,” he added quickly, seeing Judy frown. “So, Barley and I got in the van and… that’s when I did something stupid.”

Judy was in suspense. “What did you do?”

Ian admitted, “I ran from the cops.”

Judy gasped in shock. “But daddy says not to run from the cops!”

“I know I know, and it was stupid thing for me to do,” Ian quickly admitted. “Cause we ended up at a dead end and…” Ian paused. Then he turned his head to Barley.

Barley quietly warned Judy, “This is when we lost the first Guinevere.”

Judy frowned sadly. “Oh no, what happened?”

“I drove her into a cliff to cause an avalanche to block the cops from getting to us,” Barley said.

“Why would you do that?” Judy asked in disbelief.

Barley stated, “At the moment… I wanted to risk anything so me and Ian could see dad.”

Ian waited a moment before continuing softly. “So, we followed the ravens.”

“I thought you were going to Raven’s Point,” Judy said.

“No, that’s the thing,” Ian explained. “While at the bridge, Barley found this statue of a raven. And it pointed to another raven statue, then another, and then another. And he realized the ravens were pointing us to the gem.”

Judy’s eyes grew wide. “Wow, that’s smart.”

“Why thank you,” Barley playfully boasted, causing Ian to playfully smack him in the shoulder.

“So, we followed the ravens to a river,” Ian continued, “but at that point we realized that we were running out of time if we wanted to get the Phoenix gem in time to see dad. So, we used a growth spell on one of Barley’s cheese curls, and used a velocity spell to turn it into a magic jet ski.”

Judy clapped her hands. “Can we do that? That sounds fun!”

“Later, later.” Ian helped Judy lay back down. “So we follow the river to the end.”

“The final gauntlet.” Barley continued. “This is when the quest threw everything it had at us. Booby traps. Gelatinous cube. Spike pits. Water trap. But with our Heart’s fire, we made our way through all of them and to our victory!”

“And you got the Fee-next gem!” Judy cheered.

“No,” Ian replied.

Judy quieted down in confusion. “No?”

Ian explained. “We ended up home, in front of the high school. And… that’s when I got mad. And… I said some things I shouldn’t have said to Barley, and stormed off. I ended up watching the sun about to set, alone with dad, thinking of all the things I wouldn’t be able to do with him. I never got to meet dad, and there was so much I wished that I did with him. Play catch, take a walk, laugh together… share my life story with him. But, as I thought over what I wanted to do with my dad… I realized that I did all that with Barley. I never had a dad… but I always had my brother.”

Judy sniffed, tears beginning to roll down her cheek.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry. You got us too.” Barley wiped a tear from Judy’s face. “Now dry those tears, cause this is where it gets good. Cause it turns out, while Ian was having his big moment, I found the Phoenix gem!”

“I thought there was no Fee-next gem,” Judy said.

“So did I,” Barley explained. “But, across from the school was an old fountain, and inside the old fountain was the gem.”

Judy was excited. “You can bring back daddy!”

“Not yet, because the fountain also released a curse,” Barley told. “It released a giant dragon, made of metal and concrete, and breathed fire and flew on mighty wings.”

“Oh no,” Judy gasped. “What did you do?”

“First, mom took care of the beast,” Barley said.

“Mom’s in the story now?” Judy asked.

“Oh right.” Ian told Judy, “You have to tell mom her side of this story, she tells it so good. Anyway, mom fought off the dragon so I could have time to cast the spell. But, it wasn’t long enough. So, Barley and I had to decide who was going to distract the dragon. And I thought Barley should stay with dad and say goodbye.”

“Goodbye? You mean hello?” Judy asked.

Barley grew quiet as he sadly explained. “Yeah, we almost forgot this part. See, before dad di… disappeared, I was supposed to say goodbye to him. But, he wasn’t himself. Dad was fun and energetic, but before he left, he was tired and sick. I got scared… and I didn’t go in.”

“When I knew,” Ian added, “that’s when I knew Barley had to see dad. If it was just one of us, it had to be Barley.”

“But… you never got to see dad,” Judy said sadly.

“Yeah,” Ian replied softly. “But, Barley got to say goodbye.”

Barley told Judy. “I only had a few minutes to speak to dad, before he disappeared forever. He said that he is proud of the men me and Ian grew up to be. And, he also said to give Ian this.” Barley then leaned over and softly gave Judy the biggest, strongest, longest, loving of hugs. Judy sniffled, before squeezing Barley as tight as she could. Ian smiled as his eyes glistened with joy. Barley finally released the hug and sat back up. “The end. Time for little princesses to go to bed,” he said with a soft boop of Judy’s elfin nose.

Judy’s eyes were still wet with tears, but she managed to snuggle under the sheets with her princess doll. “I love that story. Can you tell it to me again tomorrow?”

“Definitely, sister,” Barley nodded.

Ian smiled and nodded. “Of course we will.”

Judy smiled, then closed her eyes. Knowing she’s not asleep yet, the boys began to creep out of her bedroom. “Ian,” Judy called out, “can you cast a light spell for me?”

“Sure I can, oh shoot, I left my staff downstairs,” Ian whispered back. “I’ll be back in a second. You get some sleep.”

Judy closed her eyes again. “Good night.”

“Night, Judy.” Ian closed the door. He turned to see Barley was stopped in the hallway as well. In front of them were Laurel and Colt, both in their pajamas, both with the biggest, warmest, sweetest smiles on their faces.

“That was the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen,” Laurel finally said quietly as she went in to hug Ian and Barley.

Barley was caught in the hug, but Ian managed to escape at the last second. “Okay, mom,” he laughed quietly, “I gotta cast a light spell for Judy and go to bed.” On his way down the hall, Colt placed his hand on Ian’s head, mussing up his hair.

“Proud of you boys,” Colt quietly told them with a proud smile.

Ian smiled back. “Thanks, dad.”

#pixar onward #sir iandore of lightfoot #ian lightfoot #barley lightfoot #judith judy lightfoot #judy lightfoot

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hutchhitched · 4 years

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Too Familiar (Part 10)

Happy Monday, Everlarkers! While I was hoping to get this chapter to you sooner than this, I’m really excited that it’s finally done. This is the last full chapter of Too Familiar, and a short epilogue will post next Monday, August 3 to wrap up the story. You can also read the story on AO3. For those of you reading it on tumblr, the rest of the story can be found here. I love hearing from you, so feel free to send me your thoughts.

Trigger warning: mature themes (including infidelity and minor character death).

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“Mama Kat, when’s Dad going to be home?” Elam asked as he tossed his keys on the counter. She grinned when he leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“Hunter’s Little League game should be over in an hour or so,” she answered as she cut a pear into thin slices. “Probably pretty soon after that. Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Just wanted to talk to him about graduation,” he said as he buried his head in the fridge and then emerged with a sports drink.

Katniss swallowed hard and stilled her suddenly shaky hands. No matter how much she knew logically that time had passed, she couldn’t convince herself that Elam, the sweet boy she’d met so many years ago when her relationship with Peeta was rocky and unsure, was graduating from college in a few weeks.

“Anything I can help with?” she asked, her voice unsteady and wavering.

Her stepson shook his head, and she dropped her eyes to the counter. Madge wasn’t a common topic of conversation in the house. For everyone’s sake, they avoided mentioning her as much as possible. Unfortunately, that didn’t mean Peeta’s ex-wife was far from anyone’s mind. Elam’s graduation would be the first time they’d all be together since he’d graduated from high school, and Katniss squelched the anxiety that bubbled in the pit of her stomach.

“Just trying to figure everything out,” he mumbled before heading into the living room and plopping in front of the TV.

She almost asked him if he planned to stay for dinner, but she didn’t want to risk upsetting him. Elam rightly loved his mother, and Katniss had no desire to come in between them. She was content to be his dad’s wife, the mother to his half-siblings, and Mama Kat. Never his mother. Not the person who’d raised him from birth and had never remarried. The most Katniss could hope for was to stay in the shadows when the family gathered together and hope for the best. After all, each of them were adults, and there hadn’t been a blow up for such a long time. Madge seemed to have forgiven them as much as possible for their affair, and Peeta had long since apologized and groveled for his transgressions. More than anything, Katniss had worked really hard to be a good wife and build a solid foundation for their kids, including Elam. If nothing else, the three children enjoyed a home with a deeply loving, committed relationship at its center—no matter how terrible the beginning.

Dinner was almost ready when the door burst open and Hunter bolted down the hall and threw himself against her stomach. Jasmine followed behind, twirling her hair around her finger with a bored expression plastered across her face. Her daughter was the very picture of teenage angst and spending the evening with her dad and kid brother wasn’t on her “cool” list.

“Hi, sweetheart,” her husband said as he entered the room, his bulk taking up a considerable amount of space. Peeta kissed her cheek and tossed the groceries he’d picked up on the way home onto the counter. “Tiny, baby, can you help me put this away? Hunter, shower and change. Dinner’s almost ready.”

“Daaaaaaaaad…”

“Momma, dinner is soon?”

She grinned at Peeta addressing her as a mom. It still thrilled her that she’d given him two wonderful children—in spite of how much they sometimes drove her up the wall. “Very soon.”

Peeta pressed his side to hers as he emptied the grocery bags and handed the food to their daughter. The contact promised things to come after bedtime, and Katniss blushed slightly at the thought of them making love. They were intimate much less frequently than they had been earlier in their relationship, but she craved the physical connection that they’d been unable to deny when they were younger. Peeta didn’t last as long as he used to, and she wasn’t nearly as flexible as she’d been years before. Even so, they still managed to find release in each other’s arms as often as possible—even if that wasn’t nearly frequently enough.

“Elam’s here,” she muttered under her breath. “He wants to talk about graduation with you. Probably figuring out how to stagger us with Madge so nothing happens.”

“I’ll talk to him,” he promised. “After dinner. We don’t have many more opportunities to have all of us together anymore. It’ll be worse once he starts his job.”

Peeta did as he promised. They sat down together for dinner, and everyone (even Tiny) filled the others in on the highlights of the past week. As Katniss readied Hunter for bed, started the laundry, and set the alarm so she and Peeta wouldn’t be late for work the next day, Peeta talked to Elam in the living room, their voices low and rumbling for almost an hour. She was in the middle of preparing for bed when Peeta slipped into their bedroom and came up behind her.

“You’re still so gorgeous,” he said as his arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her back against him. His lips roamed her neck, and she arched her back when he rubbed his groin against her ass. “I need you tonight, Kat. It’s been a week. My dick’s gonna fall off, and my balls are going to shrivel up and disappear.”

She snorted at his hyperbole. It had been several days since they’d had sex, but he was hardly going to die from it. She’d jacked him off one morning as he brushed his teeth, and she knew he masturbated in the shower almost every day.

“You poor baby,” she teased as she ground back against him and braced herself on their bureau. “How will you ever survive without getting laid?”

“Thankfully, I’ll never have to find out.”

“That’s so true,” she breathed and spread her legs.

He grunted as he penetrated her, thick and heavy as he pushed into her from behind. His hands cupped her breasts as he rocked his hips until he was buried deep inside her. When she shivered, his right hand dropped lower and stroked her nub until she whined in the back of her throat.

She knew they needed to be quiet. Their teenage daughter and pre-teen son didn’t need to hear their parents fucking so loudly they woke everyone on the block, but it was hard to keep her pleasure quiet when her husband impaled her on his dick so hard she was constantly balanced on her tiptoes and rubbed her clit so hard her arousal leaked out around his cock.

“God, I love you,” he growled against her temple. “I love you so much. So much…”

“Peeta,” she panted before she turned to begging. “Peeta, give it to me. Please.”

He came then, spurting warm and thick inside her, and she reveled in the way he broke against her. His muscles locked, and he lost lucidity as he babbled and panted and grunted. She wasn’t much better. Her knees buckled, and she stumbled when she tried to walk.

“You know, that was a lot easier when we were younger,” she teased. “Somehow, we got old.”

Peeta chuckled as he tugged a pair of boxers over his hips. “We’re not in our thirties anymore.”

“We’re not even in our forties,” she scoffed and frowned at the gray hairs that peppered her dark braid.

“Older and wiser, I guess.”

She grinned as he climbed into bed, and she cuddled up against him. “We’ve come a long way. It’s almost liked we figured out how to be in love or something.”

“Love wasn’t ever the problem, sweetheart. I’ve always loved you. Even when I was stupid and married to someone else and treated you terribly, I always loved you more than I’ve loved anything else. I’m so glad we stuck this out, Katniss,” he murmured sleepily. “I’m so lucky you loved me back.”

“How could I help it?” she yawned. When he didn’t answer, she closed her eyes and slept.

They woke the next morning sore and exhausted, and that continued each day as they prepared for Elam’s graduation. Nervous, Katniss reached out to Madge and offered her help in arranging the party. Surprisingly, her husband’s ex-wife asked her to come over to discuss the plans.

When she knocked on the door, Katniss shifted from foot to foot. The two women hadn’t seen each other for so long, Katniss wasn’t sure what to expect and internally berated herself for reaching out to the other woman voluntarily. Things had gone well enough between the two of them for so long, she hated to rock the boat, but she supposed her stepson’s college graduation was enough of an event warranting the two meet face to face.

“Katniss,” Madge said when she opened the door, “come in.”

Peeta’s ex-wife looked older since they’d seen each other last. Madge’s face was gaunt and hollow with sunken eyes and pale skin that was just on the wrong side of porcelain. Instead, her coloring edged toward sickly. As Katniss entered the house, she didn’t miss the almost imperceptible shaking of Madge’s hands.

“I have to say, I wasn’t sure you’d want my help,” Katniss said carefully as she moved through the entryway and perched on the side of the couch. “I’m glad we can agree that Elam’s happiness is worth any uncomfortableness of our own.”

Madge smiled wanly and motioned to the pitcher of iced tea on the coffee table. “Help yourself. I don’t have much energy today, so…”

“Are you okay?” Katniss asked quietly. “I know I haven’t seen you for a while, but you seem a little off.”

A flash of anger flitted across Madge’s face, and Katniss dropped her gaze to the tray of refreshments. The last thing she wanted to do was upset the other woman, but Madge did look much more peaked than Katniss had ever seen her.

“I’m…” Madge waved her left hand vaguely in the air, and Katniss sat back with a glass in her hand. “I’m feeling a little under the weather. Have been for a while, but I need to get through this graduation before I can worry about that. After all, Elam’s the apple of my eye—all our eyes, isn’t he? We’ll put on a brave face and pretend everything’s okay.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Sure,” Madge insisted, but her face betrayed her inner thoughts. “Sure, everything’s just delightful.”

“Madge, I know we’re not the best of friends or anything, but it’s obvious something’s going on. I’m happy to listen if you—”

“If I need to confide in someone? If I need to share my innermost thoughts and vulnerabilities with the woman who stole my husband almost twenty years ago? I mean, it’s been so long, why would it matter now? Surely, we can just let bygones be bygones, right?”

Katniss pursed her lips at the other woman’s sarcasm. It wasn’t pleasant, but she knew better than to rise to the bait. Madge had invited her over, after all, so there was a reason she wanted her here.

“I’m not expecting anything. Just offering to listen if you have something to say.”

“I don’t really need help with Elam’s party,” Madge admitted. “You’re welcome here, of course. Elam adores you—even if it makes me squirm a little.”

“Okay?”

“Katniss, I’m sick.”

“Do you want me to leave so you can go to bed?”

Madge shook her head. “Not that kind of sick.”

“Oh,” Katniss answered lamely, her tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth. “I’m so sorry.”

“I have cancer. Ovarian. It’s stage four. The prognosis is…” Her voice trails off, and Katniss twists her hands as her insides mirror the action. “Well, it’s not good.”

Katniss cursed under her breath and blinked back sudden tears. There was certainly no love lost between them, but this was beyond anything she’d imagined. She’d expected Madge to be a part of her life as long as she lived.

“Have you—have you tired chemo? Radiation?” When Madge shook her head, Katniss added, “Drug trials? Anything?”

“The doctor says it’s too late. It’s metastasized— It’s— It’s too late.”

“We’ll get a second opinion,” Katniss insisted. “We’ll figure something out.”

“I’ve already done that.”

“Then a third,” Katniss argued, frantic with anxiety.

“Katniss, no,” Madge said softly. “I’ve made my peace with it. It’s why I invited you over.”

“What’s why you invited me over? I thought I was—” Her voice broke, and she stared at the other woman.

“I’m dying,” Madge insisted. “There’s no stopping this. It’s going to happen, and it’s terrible and shitty and awful, but it’s happening. Elam deserves to graduate without this overshadowing his accomplishment. I’ll tell him after. Once he’s gotten settled in his new job, I’ll break it to him, but right now isn’t the time.”

Katniss nodded, unable to speak. She pressed her hand to her mouth because she was positive she’d scream if she dropped it.

“As much as I hate to admit this, you’ve been a really good mom to Elam. A good wife to Peeta. Despite how it all started, I’m glad my boys are happy, and I know you’ll be strong for them when I go.”

Katniss choked back a sob and shook her head. “This is absurd. This can’t be happening.”

“It’s happening.”

“No! No, it’s not,” Katniss snapped. “You’re supposed to hate me. I slept with your husband while you were married. I blew him when you were pregnant. I had an affair with him when you were a new mother. You’re supposed to loathe me, not expect me to replace you when you—”

“When I die,” Madge whispered.

“You’re not dying!” Katniss screamed, all attempts at control lost. “You’re not fucking dying.”

Madge’s eyes welled with tears, and Katniss had to bite her cheek to stop herself from another outburst.

“I am. I don’t want to. I don’t want to miss Elam finding himself, getting married, becoming an adult, a father, everything I ever wanted for him, but I am going to miss it. And Katniss,” Madge paused and swallowed hard. “Katniss, you cannot tell Peeta. Not yet. I have to talk to him myself because he has to be ready when I tell my son. Our son. All of ours.”

“You can’t ask me to do that,” Katniss croaked. “You cannot expect me to lie to my husband. To Peeta. We’ve always been honest with each other.”

Madge shot her a withering look, and Katniss cringed in response. Honesty wasn’t exactly the foundation stone of her marriage, and the woman in front of her knew that better than anyone.

“You don’t have to lie for long. Not like in the past or anything. He’s graduating in a week.”

“That wasn’t called for.”

Madge sighed and raised a trembling hand to her forehead. “You’re right. You’re right. That wasn’t fair.”

Silence stretched between them for several seconds. Madge sat with her eyes closed, breathing quietly and pressing her lips together to keep from crying. Katniss stared at her feet, unable to process the coming loss for their family. Because that’s what Madge was as much as Katniss had tried to ignore it. She was part of Peeta’s family, and, therefore, part of hers. More importantly, she was Elam’s mother, and her sweet stepson was going to lose his mother in the months to come.

“I need to rest. Maybe it’s time for you to go.”

Katniss nodded quickly and rose clumsily. It felt like the walls were closing in, and she needed air. She had to figure out how to get through the next few days without lying to her husband, without him seeing right through her and figuring out something was wrong.

“Madge…” she rasped and looked at her former nemesis. “I—”

The two women locked gazes as their eyes blurred with tears. Katniss reached for Madge’s hand, and the other woman stretched up and grasped her fingers tightly before dropping her arm.

“Take care of my baby. Promise.”

“I promise,” she breathed and broke for the door. Halfway home she pulled over and bawled at the unfairness of it all. For Elam losing his mother. For the pain she and Peeta had caused Madge. For the guilt in their marriage. For the broken relationships and lost time and mistakes and everything wrong.

The rest of the week dragged. Katniss brushed off Peeta’s advances with promises that they’d reconnect “later” and “after Elam’s had his day” and a million other excuses that felt as wrong as Madge’s prognosis. Clearly frustrated, Peeta huffed and pouted, but she ignored him until he stopped.

“I haven’t been this celibate since Tiny was born,” he teased the night before Elam’s graduation, and she shook her head and snorted.

“I think you’ll probably pull through, Mellark. It’s been a while since I’ve had to tell you to keep it in your pants, too, but here we are.”

He chuckled as he put his arms around her and drew her to his chest. “Can you believe my son is graduating from college tomorrow?”

“No,” she mumbled, “I can’t.” It wasn’t lost on her that he’d said Elam was his, not theirs. Not the way Madge had included Katniss in her son’s life only a few days prior.

“You realize what him graduating means, right?” he asked as he nuzzled her neck.

“What’s that?”

“That it’s been twenty-two years since I first ate you out,” he whispered in her ear as his hand dipped between her legs.

“Peeta,” she warned as he nudged against her skin.

“Lie down for me, sweetheart. Please.”

“Peeta, no,” she whined, but it wasn’t any use.

“Katniss, yes,” he insisted as he walked them backward and situated her on the edge of their bed. He dropped to his knees in front of her and tugged down her sleep shorts before spreading her legs and kissing up the inside of her thighs. When his lips met her slick heat, she closed her eyes and drove everything from her mind but the feel of her husband’s mouth on her pussy.

“Oh, fuck,” she hissed as she twisted the sheets in her fists.

Peeta moved slowly, deliberately, methodically. His tongue swept into her slit and licked and nipped for what felt like hours. Swirls coupled with penetration and heated breaths chased desperate groans and haggard breaths from her body until she was begging. Her back arched off the bed when he wiggled his tongue inside her and then pulled away. He blew softly on her wet lips and then buried his face into her again. He repeated the process, over and over, until she writhed under him. When he curved two fingers inside her as he sucked on her clit, she bowed and snapped. She tugged his hair as she shoved his face closer to her and wrapped her legs around his head. His tongue flicked her repeatedly as she came and then came some more. Katniss rolled her head from side to side as he continued to work her with his fingers and mouth. It felt too good to do anything but bask in the endorphins.

As she floated, she heard the distinctive sound of skin slapping, and she realized Peeta was jerking off as he kissed along her slit. She moaned and ground against his face. His pace quickened while she twitched under him, and it was only a few more moments before he stood up and leaned over her.

“I’m gonna come,” he grunted, and she drew him over her. Her hand wrapped around his, and he shouted her name. Hot stripes covered her breasts and face seconds before he collapsed on top of her. She wiggled against him, smearing his ejaculate across their bodies. With a tortured grumble, he licked himself off her face before kissing her deeply. She sucked the taste of herself off his tongue until he pulled away and started laughing.

“God damn.” His breathing was ragged against her neck, and she grinned when his thumb flicked her nipple.

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” she teased. “Even when I push you away, you figure out a way to weasel your way back into my good graces.”

“If by good graces you mean your pussy, then yes,” he answered with a broad smile. “I love you so much, Katniss. All these years later, and I still can’t get enough of you. Worth every hardship. Every dirty look. Every snide comment and brushoff. I’d choose you again every time,” he promised with a gentle kiss. “Every. Single. Time.”

Katniss bit her lips, but the tears came anyway. Overcome with emotion, she shook her head when he asked her what was wrong. Instead, she curled into his arms, sticky and sated, and fell asleep with her tears washing his chest.

She was still emotional the next morning when they woke and prepared for the graduation. She cried as Elam crossed the stage, and she teared up when she and Peeta gave Madge an awkward farewell. Peeta looked at her quizzically when his ex-wife squeezed her hand before they left.

“Okay, sweetheart,” he announced as they walked in the door, “Elam’s graduated, Tiny’s at work, and Hunter is at a sleepover. We’re alone in this house for the first time in ages. It’s time for you to spill it. What the hell is going on? You’ve been acting weird for a week.”

“I haven’t been acting weird.”

“Katniss, you haven’t said no to sex that many times since before Elam was born and we were still pretending we weren’t doing anything wrong just giving each other hand jobs and sucking each other off.”

It was exactly the wrong thing for him to say, and she sank onto the couch with a deep pain in her gut. She’d forgiven herself so long ago for their affair, but Madge’s illness brought forth all the old guilt and pain she’d repressed for the past two decades. Her marriage with Peeta had weathered a million obstacles—cheating, parental disapproval, a blended family, a workplace romance, raising kids, and self-loathing—but she’d never imagined she’d be back where she was the night Madge went into labor and all hell had broken loose. She’d been convinced then that Madge’s emergency C-section and brush with death had been her punishment for tempting Peeta during his marriage, but the cancer diagnosis… It didn’t make sense that Madge was the one with the death sentence when Katniss had been the one sucking the cock of a married man.

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Katniss Everdeen Mellark,” he barked. “I know you better than you know yourself. Tell me.”

“It’s not my story to tell,” she insisted and moved to the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee. “You’ll have to wait until she tells you herself.”

He followed her and surveyed her with curious eyes. When she refused to speak, he sighed and ran a finger through his curls that still fell over his forehead, even if they were a little bit receded from where they’d been when they’d met. He looked tired and beaten down, and she longed to smooth out the wrinkles in his brow and the laugh lines around his eyes.

“It’s something with Madge.”

“Peeta, I really can’t say anything.”

“Fine,” he snapped. “Just forget it.”

“Peeta,” she started, but he cut her off before she could get any farther.

“I think I’m going to meet up with Finnick. I’ll see you later.”

She stood with her mouth hanging open as he stormed from the house. She heard the car start and drive away before she was willing to believe he’d left. It was another twenty minutes before she admitted defeat and changed into old sweats and a stretched out t-shirt.

Three glasses of wine later, she was halfway through a horror movie when the front door opened.

She expected Tiny or Peeta, but it was Elam, face pale and eyes red-rimmed as she stood in the hallway.

“Oh, honey,” she said softly and held out her arms to him.

“Mama Kat,” Elam gulped. “My mama’s sick.”

“Baby,” she whispered and wrapped him in her arms.

The minutes ticked by as her stepson wept in her arms. Tiny returned and quietly escaped to her room when she saw her older brother crying. Sometime after midnight, Peeta slipped through the door and wobbled toward them. When Katniss shook her head, he stumbled down the hall and left them alone. In the middle of the night, she shifted Elam onto the couch and covered him with a blanket. With a kiss on his forehead, she turned and headed down the hall to her bedroom.

She expected Peeta to be asleep, but she wasn’t prepared for his bare ass to greet her when she walked into the room. He was completely naked, passed out and snoring. A bottle of lube was on the nightstand, and a soiled towel was on the floor on his side of the bed. For all the moments she’d loved her husband, her stomach turned at the sight of him. On the very night his firstborn needed comfort, he’d gotten drunk and jacked off while his son bawled in her arms.

Just as suddenly, a wave of sympathy and guilt flooded through her. Peeta had no idea his life was about to change dramatically again. He had no clue his first wife was dying, and his oldest child was about to lose his mother. On top of that, she’d lied to him about what was wrong. When Peeta heard the news, he’d have to deal with the shock of Madge’s terminal illness and his wife’s…betrayal, or whatever it was she’d done by hiding the truth.

She woke late the next morning to gritty eyes and the smell of coffee. Peeta wasn’t in bed, so she grabbed her robe and stumbled to the kitchen as she twisted her hair into a messy braid. Her husband sat at the bar next to Elam, both with slumped shoulders and untouched cups of coffee in front of them.

“What am I going to do, Dad?” Elam asked, his voice ragged and weary.

Katniss held her breath, but Peeta offered advice she wished she’d thought of the night before when Elam and wept on her shoulder.

“You’re going to live your life,” he insisted. “Your mother and I both love you so much, and we’re so proud of you. Mama Kat and your brother and sister and I are all here for you. We’ll always be here for you, and we’ll be your family once your mom is gone. You’re a good man, Elam, and your mom is always going to be with you, no matter what happens. She’s raised you so well, son.”

His voice broke then, and Katniss moved into the room to lay her hand on her husband’s shoulder. He turned to her and pulled her close as tears clung to his lashes. Elam pushed his cup of coffee away and announced that he was going to spend the day with his mother.

“You knew,” Peeta accused as soon as the door closed behind Elam. Shoving himself away from her, he looked at her with fire in his eyes and spat, “You knew, and that’s why you kept shoving me away last week.”

“Peeta, I—”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

“Madge made me promise not to. It was her news, not mine, and I didn’t want to break her trust. Not after everything I’d already done to her.”

“You mean, not after fucking her husband while she was at home with a newborn? Not when we were screwing each other when I was going to therapy with her? When you rode my face the night before Elam was born? I’m your husband, Katniss, and we’re not supposed to have any secrets from each other! Not after everything we’ve been through to be together.”

“I didn’t—”

“What do you mean?” a strangled voice asked from the hallway, and they both turned to find a stricken Elam gaping at them. Peeta rose quickly and took a step toward him.

“Son—”

“What do you mean?” Elam repeated. “You were— You told me things started after… Oh my God. Oh my God! You were cheating on Mom? You lied to me?”

Katniss held her breath. They were on a precipice, and their decision to withhold the truth from Elam suddenly seemed like a terrible idea. Madge had agreed only because she wanted to be spared the humiliation of knowing her son was aware of the affair, but now the walls crumbled around them.

“I can explain,” Peeta said, but Elam backed away from them, his face a mask of disgust and fury.

“I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want anything from you!” he yelled.

“Elam, stop!” Peeta cried, but it was too late. Elam was out the door, his tires squealing as he pealed out of the driveway and sped down the street.

Peeta stood outside for several minutes before returning to the house. Katniss watched as his shoulders fell and he plodded up the front steps and walked through the door. He was clearly shell-shocked, pale with red-rimmed eyes and a haunted look in his eyes. Katniss stood quietly, afraid to make a move until he indicated he was ready for her comfort, if that was something she was even able to provide. Peeta’s relationship with his oldest child had always been something only they understood.

“This can’t be happening,” he finally gasped and doubled over. “I’ve lost him.”

She rushed to him and wrapped her arms around his middle. Helping him to the couch, she steadied him as he collapsed into the cushions. Silent tears streaked down his face, and she clutched his hand, gripping it with a ferocity she hadn’t realized she could muster since she’d finally believed Peeta was really hers.

Except he wasn’t exactly. Yes, he was her husband, but he was also Elam’s father and Madge’s ex. He was her children’s dad and his parent’s child. He was a brother and a friend and an employee. He was hers as much as anyone she hadn’t birthed could be, but there were parts of him she’d never be able to understand, and this seemed to be one of them. As much as she loved Elam, he had never really been hers either, so how could she comprehend the loss Peeta felt as he watched his firstborn flee?

Things didn’t improve over the next few weeks. Calls to Elam went unanswered, and Madge’s condition worsened rapidly. Both Katniss and Peeta wanted to be there for her, but Madge insisted there was nothing they could do. She asked them to give her space to be with her son, who refused to be in the same room with his father.

“I promise I’ll make time for you to see me,” she promised, but the days passed with no invitation to visit.

“She’s going to die without letting us see her,” Peeta said one night, hopeless and broken. “I should have done this earlier. I should have worked harder to repair things with her instead of settling for an unspoken truce. And now…”

“Now, it’s about Madge and not us. She’s the one dying, and she gets to make the rules now. We get to make her last days as comfortable and stress free as possible,” Katniss suggested gently. “She knows we’re sorry for hurting her. We can’t do anything else now. It’s in the past, and she’s accepted that.”

Peeta lifted his stricken face to hers and whispered, “When she’s gone, I’ll lose every tie I have to my son. He’ll never forgive me once she’s dead. I don’t know that I’ll ever forgive myself either.”

Katniss swallowed the pain, too terrified to answer, too scared to admit her husband might be right. That Madge’s death would mean losing a part of their relationship that had defined them since the beginning. That Elam would walk away after his mother’s death and refuse to acknowledge them after learning of their betrayal.

“Madge will call for us, and Elam will come around. He’s hurting right now, and we need to let him know we’re here for him without pressuring him to respond. All we can do now is love him and trust that he’ll believe us when he needs that support.”

Unfortunately, Elam didn’t seem interested in accepting anything from any of them. As Madge grew weaker, he stopped responding to their children as well. As much as Katniss understood the anger her stepson must be harboring, it hurt her more than she could stand to see her children confused that their brother had disappeared from their lives.

Madge made arrangements for them to visit on Tuesday and Friday afternoons, and Peeta left work early both days to make the most of the time he’d been granted. Katniss joined him when Haymitch learned of their situation and allowed them leave for a family illness. Peeta sat at Madge’s bedside and held her hand. They kept up a steady stream of conversation, reminiscing about their high school and college days when they’d been young and in love, before Peeta had met Katniss and Madge realized her marriage was failing. They talked about their son and his accomplishments, and Peeta broke down when Madge admitted she’d urged their child to forgive his father.

Katniss watched sadly, heartbroken that they’d wasted so much time in anger and hurt. Madge was funny and smart, self-deprecating and kind, but most of all she forgave them graciously every time the subject of their affair surfaced.

“I don’t have time to hold a grudge anymore,” she said softly. “You love each other more than we ever could, Peeta. You deserve to be happy. Stop punishing yourself for something you wouldn’t change, and don’t give up on our son.”

It surprised Katniss that the visits with Madge became a solace to both her and Peeta as the other woman weakened. Elam never allowed himself to be seen, but it was comforting to know their son was safe and loved and an active part of Madge’s final days. Peeta offered to help with arrangements for memorial and burial, but Madge declined. She and Elam had made the arrangements, and she urged them to accept his wishes.

“But Madge,” Peeta begged, “I should help him with this. You both deserve to be supported through this.”

“But that’s not what Elam wants, and I want what makes him happy. He’s an adult now. You have to let him come to you when he’s ready.”

In the end, they agreed to Madge’s requests and allowed mother and son to spend as much time together making decisions and sharing memories as possible. The days ticked by, and Madge lingered, frail and fading, far longer than any of them expected. Still, it was too soon when the call inevitably came. They were at home, watching the late news after the kids’ bedtimes, when the phone rang. They exchanged looks before Peeta answered. He spoke softly into the phone for a few minutes before he hung up and turned to face her.

“She’s gone.”

“Elam?”

“No. That was the funeral director. Elam didn’t want to talk to us.”

“When is it?”

“The day after tomorrow. We’ve been asked not to attend.”

The words hung between them for several moments, both smarting from the sting.

“That’s not what Madge would have wanted,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“No,” he replied wryly, “but she’s gone, and now Elam gets to make the decision.”

“Peeta, honey.” She reached out to him, but he shook his head.

“I need to be alone for a while. I’m sorry.”

She waited until well past midnight, but he didn’t return. At work the next morning, he was quiet and withdrawn, and he barely said anything to her at home. He loved on their kids and tucked them into bed but barely kissed her goodnight. That continued until the day of the memorial service, and, although they didn’t attend, he sat vigil during the time others paid tribute to his ex-wife. The distance grew between them for weeks, until one day he turned to her and she said, “You came back.”

Slowly, and with many lost days, they grew back together. Their home life stabilized, and they raised their daughter and son to smile and dance and laugh. They celebrated milestones and loved each other unconditionally, but there was always an empty seat where Elam should have been.

Year after year after year passed without him.

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #too familiar #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen

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