#‘he didn’t show up to dates’ is boring AND it shows what a garbage person u are without a fun party story : | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sixeyesgojo · 3 years

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kiss it better

Summary: You had a shitty day at the store. Gojo is here to comfort you <3

Characters: Gojo x Reader

Word count: 1100

A/N: The past few weeks have been super rough - personal matters and on top of that, natural disasters + "I could lose my closest friends thanks to this" type of rough - so I wrote this pretty self-indulgently because I seriously need to be comforted lol. But that doesn't mean you can't imagine yourself in it!! The fanart is fem reader but I don't think I indicated any gender in the fic. Shoutout to the folks who work with customers, you guys are doing an amazing job! Thank you.

This entire fic was inspired by the art by the amazing @yuusagi-chii that I commissioned; check out her blog and leave a reblog on her artworks!! ♥ - posted with permission from the artist

There had been nothing to do. The whole time, Satoru was just lazing on the couch, legs stretched out on the entire thing, and waiting for you to come home as the television showed nothing but garbage.

As soon as they perceived the sound of your dangling keys in front of the door, Satoru’s ears perked up. He had been so bored all day, not knowing what to do on his free day; he was used to being busy all day, every day, around the clock. The lethargy got to the extent where he cleaned every nook and cranny in your shared home, did all the laundry for the week, reorganized the cupboard where his treasures were stored and even took a nap. Originally, he had planned to kidnap you to go on a date with him but unfortunately, your workplace said otherwise, wrecking his not-so-planned-out plan. Admittedly, it did piss him off a little but there was nothing to be done. Satoru just missed you incredibly much since he was usually gone for most days.

Your heavy footsteps that came from the entrance hall, the way your keys seemed to make louder noise than usual and the soft sigh he could hear all indicated that you had a shitty day so far. It really wasn’t rocket science for Satoru to notice little things about you. Probably entitled customers again, he thought. Satoru was well aware that working in a customer-oriented branch had to be unrewarding, draining even. Still, he wanted to tantalize you a bit, to lighten the mood and ease his boredom a little – he would do that on normal days.

However, ‘normal’ was quickly discarded when he saw your face: a hefty scowl and… were those teary eyes? His previous demeanor immediately dropped and a serious one took over. This was definitely not okay.

Satoru had noticed the last few weeks had been a little rough on you. On normal days, teasing you was his favorite thing to do and quite frankly, it was enjoyable to you as well as it lifted your mood after a stressful shift… but today must have been the tipping point and he knew better than to tease you in times like these. The last thing he wanted to be was the cause of your tears.

“Had a rough day?” Satoru asked as he met you in the hallway, wasting no time to slip his arms around your body. Crushing into his chest, you simply nodded without looking at him. You feared that if you did, tears would fall and you would no longer be in control of your emotions. The entire time you spent at work had been filled with some particularly grumpy customers you had to tend to. You had to deal with utterly disrespectful behavior towards you. Yet, you had to stay friendly and polite when, throughout the day, there had been several instances that made you want to quit your job right then and there.

Today had been terrible, so being in the amenity of your home felt uncommonly relieving. In addition to that, being in the comforting space of Satoru’s gentle hug washed off your exhaustion. It was fine to bask in the solace of his embrace for a moment, wasn’t it? Was it okay for you to give in a little and enjoy the moment for all its worth?

“Do you want to talk about it?” “Just the usual trouble but way worse for some reason,” you mumbled into his chest, just loud enough for him to hear. “Tell me about it, baby. It’s better if you get it off of your chest as soon as possible.”

You breathed out, the emotional dam you’ve built today finally breaking, “It’s just… people suck… They s-snap at me for the smallest things… and I know some of those incidents are just part of the job – I really get it a-and I try so hard to stay polite but… it’s just… very hard.”

Throughout your ramblings – how a customer had yelled at you for a minor mistake, how another one treated you like something lesser because of something that was not your mistake, how people would insist on being right and more – he listened intently to each and every word… All the while, Satoru had gently stroked your back with his palm to calm you down. “Say, Toru…there must be something wrong with me for them… to treat me like this, isn’t there?” you finally asked. “No, honey. You are perfectly fine,” he said, suppressing how pissed he actually was at the people who dared treating you badly. “Their attitude just sucks and they don’t deserve being served by someone beautiful like you. Maybe I should give them a piece of my mind some day…” “I just— I don’t even know. People are so mean… and for w-what? Is kindness in this world really that hard to find?” you lamented, choking back a sob as you buried your face deeper into him.

“Can I help you feel better in any way? Are you hungry? Do you want something to eat?” Satoru asked sweetly but the frown on his face made his worry very evident. He didn’t like it at all whenever you came back emotionally drained like this. All Satoru wanted to do was to go and ‘teach them a well-deserved lesson’ but he knew well that it would be against your wishes, so he had no choice but to sit back and be there for you when you needed him the most.

“Let me pamper and spoil my angel for today, hm?” he whispered affectionately, pressing kisses to the top of your head. Finally, you raised your head to look at him. The teary stains on your cheeks and sad expression broke his heart and he swore you could hear it cracking in his ribcage. “I just want you to hold me right now, wanna feel you close to me and nothing more,” you admitted and slung your arms around him tightly.

Promptly taking the chance, Satoru placed a sweet and loving kiss on your forehead. The sensation of his lips on your skin eased a big part of your discomfort away, making you sigh in comfort for the first time in what felt like decades. The effect this man had on you was inexplicable; the way he had the power to make you feel better by simply being there was truly magical. It made your heart flutter in a thousand ways and more.

“Then I’ll have no choice but to kiss it better.”

Taglist (open): @satosuguslut @assbuttbaek @melonnbar @delammi @silversatoru @princesatoru

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojou x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru #gojo x y/n #gojou satoru

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rocorambles · 3 years

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Ignorance is Bliss

Pairing: Kageyama x reader, One-sided Atsumu x reader

Genre/Warnings: Yandere Kageyama, NSFW, Toxic Relationship, Misogynistic Behavior and Thoughts, Mind Break, Implied Manipulation

Summary: Atsumu learns the hard way how true the saying ‘ignorance is bliss’ is and he wonders how much simpler life would have been if he had never gotten involved with you.

From what Atsumu knows of Kageyama Tobio from their high school tournament interactions, from what his cheerful orange-haired teammate tells him, and from their encounters in the professional circuit, he thinks he has a pretty clear picture of who the blue eyed setter is. So imagine his surprise when he meets you at a hangout Hinata has organized.

You’re not the only female at the event, with many other attendees choosing to bring their significant others, and Atsumu has a blast trying to pair up all the unfamiliar faces with past and present opponents and teammates based on appearances and personalities alone. He’s on a roll, but pauses when he gets to you.

There’s a wide grin spread across your face, your eyes excitedly shining as you vigorously nod at something Hinata is saying before you erupt into a boisterous, stomach busting laughter that echoes throughout the entire room. You’re wild, cheerful, fun, and if he didn’t know Bokuto was single, he’d automatically assume the two of you might be a couple with your similar radiant and untamed personalities.

Maybe Tanaka, the baldy from Karasuno? No, he’s married to that pretty manager he was always obsessed with since highschool.

Kuroo? The messy haired businessman seems like someone who wouldn’t mind a wild lover, but it seems unlikely from the way the cat-like man hasn’t even looked your way once the entire time.

Before he can think of another guess, he freezes at the sight of Kageyama walking to your side, intimately pressed against you as he moves some food from his plate to yours, a slight upward twitch of his lips and an unfamiliar softness in his eyes as he gazes at you.

No freaking way.

When Atsumu thinks of the type of woman Kageyama would date, he thinks of sweet, well-mannered girls, caring and nurturing motherly types who would be patient enough to deal with the admittedly emotionally and socially challenged athlete and take of their idiotic, but well-meaning boyfriend.

He doesn’t think of women like you. A woman loud enough to rival both Bokuto and Hinata. A woman as warm as the sun. A woman who can so easily ignore the stubborn setter’s barked commands for Hinata and her to quiet down and behave properly.

Atsumu doesn’t miss the scowl, the hint of disappointment in blue eyes when you ignore the dark-haired setter.

Looks like even though Kageyama’s “King of the Court” title hasn’t been used or brought up in years, some things never change. And Atsumu wonders how long the two of you will stay together before Kageyama’s need to be in complete control and authority destroys everything between the two of you.

Not long, he thinks, as he weasels his way into the conversation, intent on getting to know you better so that when you come crashing down from Kageyama’s tyrannical rule, he can be the one to catch you and show you a life, a relationship where you can truly be loved and appreciated for exactly who you are, a kindred wild spirit like himself.

Atsumu doesn’t see you much after that since both the Adlers and Jackals are incredibly busy with pro season, practicing, and traveling, but the two of you text back and forth constantly, hitting it off right away just as Atsumu knew you would. He’s quick to lunge for his phone with every ping, eyes constantly checking for new messages, chortling and smiling like a giddy fool in love with every text you send his way.

The conversations start off amazingly, no usual awkward small talk or niceties usually associated with getting to know someone, and Atsumu feels like he can truly be himself, unfiltered as he rants to you about something stupid Osamu did that annoyed him, sends a dumb inappropriate joke your way, shyly tells you about his hopes and dreams. And his heart soars as you match his sincerity and openness, revealing more and more of who you are to him, making it harder and harder for him not to fall in love with you.

But as time goes on, he swears you’re changing, and he’s not sure if it’s for the better.

When you see him at events, practice games, and real matches, your ear-splitting grin turns into tiny demure smiles, your bone-crushing bear hugs you greet him with become polite bows, your rowdy laughter that could rival Kuroo’s hyena howls become soft giggles hidden behind a hand you raise to cover your mouth.

Even your messages are changing and he glares at the properly punctuated and grammatically correct sentences you send him now, his crass jokes responded to with a boring and safe “haha” or completely ignored.

You’re different now and Atsumu hates it.

He hates the way Kageyama seems to proudly beam at your politer mannerisms. He hates what a perfect polished couple the two of you make. But mostly, he hates how he can feel you slipping further and further away from him.

It’s not a surprise when he receives the expensive, high-quality letter in the mail, but it doesn’t mean it hurts any less as the blond setter stares down at the beautiful winding cursive scrawled across the card in front of him, grimacing at the picture perfect engagement photos Kageyama and you had taken together and chosen to incorporate in the wedding invitation.

The selfish child inside of him has half a mind to toss it all into the garbage, forget about it, forget about you. But then he remembers that fateful day and he knows he owes it to that raucous laughter and toothy grin he memorializes and reminisces on to suck it up and celebrate your big day, usher in the next chapter of your life while you end the portion of your story with him.

The wedding venue is disgustingly cookie cutter perfect and Atsumu internally retches at how boring and normal everything is, so unlike the woman who had intrigued him and who he thought he knew.

What happened to your dreams of eloping in a jaw dropping national park?

What happened to your disdain towards getting married in a church by a pastor?

He grimaces as he stiffly stalks down the aisle and plops down in a pew, waiting for the ceremony to start, waiting for this whole thing to be over, waiting to go home and forget any of this ever happened.

It’s easy to zone out as the background music plays, as the speaker drones on and on, and he only looks on in mild interest as the groomsmen and bridesmaids make their way down the aisle, some familiar faces walking past him. But nonchalance turns to something nauseating, something terrifying within Atsumu when he stands up with the rest of the guests as you make your way down the red carpet.

Is that really you?

Logically he knows it must be you, facial features, body, and every other physical attribute matching exactly what he remembers of you. But your eyes…

Had they always been so empty?

No. He knows they hadn’t and he briefly closes his eyes, remembering how vibrant, how fiery those two orbs used to be, feeling sick to his stomach when he opens his eyes and truly looks at you, looks at how vacant and lifeless your eyes are, looks at how perfectly trained and almost robotic your prim and proper steps are.

It’s like you’re nothing more than a living and breathing doll and a sinking suspicion begins to build in his gut as he scrutinizes the black-haired setter carefully watching you as you make your way towards him. And Atsumu thinks he might throw up when he can’t help but notice how similar the look Kageyama is giving you is to the look Kita had given his German Shepherd when the dog had obediently performed a trick for his master.

He knows it might be a crapshoot, knows it might be too late now that the ring around your fourth finger chains you to the blue-eyed setter, but regret and guilt for not noticing earlier and love for the woman he remembers drives him and he continuously messages you in earnest long after the wedding. He talks to you like nothing’s changed, hoping one of his awful jokes will elicit some type of reaction from you, praying that the photo he snaps of your favorite onigiri from Osamu’s restaurant sparks something in you, ignoring the painful sting he feels at your politely austere responses, not letting your emotionless replies deter him.

But it’s no good and he can’t help how off his game he is when they play a practice match against the Adlers, can’t help the way his temper is even shorter than normal, can’t help how he lets his emotions inhibit his skills every time he sees Kageyama across the net. And when he’s finally benched and told to cool his head, all he can think of is what awful things had Kageyama done to break you down so thoroughly, slumping down in his seat with a towel over his head, mind spinning with its wild imagination.

He’s so lost in his head that he doesn’t notice the sound of a whistle marking the end of the match, doesn’t notice the slight commotion as the two teams bow to each other, doesn’t notice the figure making its way towards him. But he does notice the way another pair of shoes enters his field of vision and he lifts his head, body instantly tensing as blue eyes regard him.

“Come over for dinner tonight. She misses you.”

You missed him?

Hope blossoms in Atsumu’s chest and his heart is racing as he rings your doorbell, a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hands. But he droops a bit at the impersonal cheery greeting you welcome him with as you beckon him in, graciously taking the flowers from him without even a second glance or spark in your eyes when you see the assortment he had painstakingly chosen, treating him like he’s just any visitor and not a close friend who you haven’t seen for months.

And suddenly Atsumu wonders if he really should have come, feeling lightheaded and disoriented as he watches you flutter around the kitchen, a pretty pink pristine apron wrapped around you as you hum to yourself as you slave over the stove, urging the two men to catch up while you cook dinner.

It all feels surreal, like a dream. Bad or good? He can’t decide. It’s jarring to see the woman who always insisted on ordering in greasy junk food, who did everything in her power to never step foot in the kitchen, who always went on and on about equal rights for men and women, become a perfect stay at home housewife, tending to the needs of her husband before hers, serving Kageyama and him so obediently, so submissively. And yet, there’s something oddly...enticing about the whole scene playing out in front of him as twisted as he knows it sounds and he feels disgust at himself when bitter pangs of jealousy strike him.

How can he be jealous of Kageyama? How can he even entertain the idea of being okay with this role you’ve been forced into? How can he be jealous when deep down he knows something’s not right? Knows that you would never have easily or willingly let yourself be molded into something so against everything you believed or thought? Knows that your spirit and mind have been thrashed and tweaked so much that you’re completely broken and mindless, a docile little puppet for Kageyama to completely control?

But he can’t deny the longing and awe he feels as you gracefully set the table, ladling plates with piping hot delicious food, charmingly smiling as both men compliment the meal, fawning and hovering over them as you make sure their cups and plates are always filled, shooing them over to the comfy living room as you prepare dessert and coffee for them and wash the dishes.

Atsumu’s throat goes dry when you literally kneel in front of both of them as you place the tray laden with mouth watering pastries you had just baked, coffee, milk, and sugar in front of both of them, eyes unable to look away from the way your neck naturally arches downwards in submission. And he almost whines when you stand up from your humble position on the floor.

But he’s jolted back to his senses at the brisk command Kageyama directs at you, disbelief and fury grounding him when you don’t hesitate to obediently kiss your husband good night and retire to your room as ordered after wishing Atsumu a pleasant evening

The door to your bedroom has barely closed before he’s lunging at Kageyama, fists bunched up in the front of his shirt.

“What the fuck did you to her?! She’s a grown woman. You can’t just order her around like a slave-”

He’s cut off as he’s abruptly shoved away and there’s a tense silence in the air as Kageyama scoffs and straightens out his shirt.

“She isn’t just any woman. She is my wife. All I did was bring out her true potential, which is why you are going to stop talking to her. I didn’t put all this work and effort into perfecting her for you to come and ruin all her progress. She isn’t the same woman you knew, Miya. She’s a married woman now. A woman married to me. So do us all a favor and forget about her.”

Panic builds in a frenzy inside the blonde setter’s chest. No no no. He can’t just give up so easily. He needs proof. He needs to help you.

“There’s no way she willingly just changed. What the fuck did you do?”

Bone chilling tension once again floods the room and Atsumu nervously shudders at the cruel smirk that spreads across Kageyama’s face.

“Does it matter? The results are all that matters. Isn’t that what you used to say when Kita-san used to talk about process? Plus, it didn’t seem like you minded all that much when my ‘slave’ was kneeling in front of you.”

Bile rises in Atsumu’s throat and he can’t think, can’t breathe as he’s forcefully shoved out the front door, unable to deny the harsh truth of Kageyama’s words, unable to stop imagining the horrors you must have gone through. The rest of the night is a blur as he somehow makes it back home, shaky hands washing his face, brushing his teeth, body shivering and trembling from something other than the cold as he curls up under his covers.

But safe in his own environment, his own home, his own bed, his mind wanders and he thinks back on the night. He thinks about how perfectly the back tie of your frilly apron accentuated the curve of your waist, hips, ass. He thinks about how nice it felt to be taken care of, to have everything being done for him as he sat back and relaxed. And his hand slips underneath his briefs as he thinks about how utterly angelic you looked on your knees in front of him, head and eyes demurely turned down, as he wonders if Kageyama has you trained just as well in the bedroom.

If he had simply asked, would you have crawled between his thighs?

He groans as his hand wraps around his cock, thumb playing with his tip as he imagines your tongue swirling around his head, spreading his pre-cum and your saliva everywhere as you greedily taste and lap at his length. And as he begins to stroke himself, he imagines it’s your throat taking him all the way in, he imagines your doey eyes peering up at him from underneath fluttering lashes, seeking approval, making sure you’re pleasuring your lover, your husband.

God, it’s so easy to imagine replacing Kageyama, imagine being your husband, imagine having you as his perfect slutwife and his back arches, eyes seeing only white and stars, body pulsating with pleasure as he cums harder than he’s ever had before at the thought of using your body as he pleases every night, at the thought of you eagerly serving him day in and day out, at the thought of fucking you raw, breeding you, impregnating you with his seed, letting everyone know exactly who you belong to with your swollen pregnant stomach and leaking tits as your bear his children.

But he chokes out a sob as thick white spurts splatter across his hand, a few teardrops leaking from the corner of his eyes as he buries his face in his pillow, self-loathing and disgust curling inside of him at his traitorous thoughts, a silent plea for forgiveness and a desperate prayer for you to at least be at peace echoing in his head as he cries himself to sleep.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere kageyama #yandere kageyama x reader #kageyama x reader #atsumu x reader #tw: yandere #tw: manipulation

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 4 years

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unfair, m | myg, jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader, ft. yoongi

summary: Min Yoongi lived a simple life, alone in his apartment with his dog, Holly. Then he (and his dick) noticed his next-door neighbor. And her boyfriend. But nothing was going to come out of that. They weren’t trying to seduce him... right?

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; established relationship (jk/you); pining/slow burn; overheard smut; smut (fem reader, threesome, m and f-receiving oral); lil fluff; starts off with Yoongi’s POV, then changes to yours when it gets... fun. ;)

Min Yoongi had a problem. A problem most men probably had, but not a problem he was used to. He wasn’t a thirsty kind of guy. For most of his life, he really didn’t care about sexual shit. He had fallen in love, sure, but that was the gradual feeling, the kind that grew slowly but surely, and ultimately burned out when the girls would basically tell him he was boring as fuck. Which he knew he wasn’t. He was just… really garbage at being romantic.

Of course, he was older now, so he had some idea of romance and showing affection, not for his sake but for the sake of loving someone. Even if he was bad at it, the whole point was to try. To be honest, he hadn’t actually put that theory into practice yet, but that was what he had concluded after his last break-up. But now he had a problem.

It was not fucking fair how fucking hot his next-door neighbor was.

It just wasn’t. To whatever higher power was up there, what the actual fuck? Why do this to him, Min Yoongi, of all people? He was a kind boy. A good soul. He didn’t need to step out of his apartment to walk his dog Holly to see his next-door neighbor in a sports bra and leggings wiping her brow with a towel after her morning run. A little sweaty, cheeks flushed, skin glistening. Holy fuck. To top off that banging body, she looked up at him and gave him a confident smile and a polite nod before going into her apartment. Not even embarrassed.

Fuck. Now he had to walk his dog with a hard-on. Great.

To make it even worse, he was pretty sure she was taken. A guy would come around and they would leave together, probably to go on dates. Usually he was in sweats and a bucket hat but this time Yoongi saw him in slacks and a dress shirt.

And, oh, holy hell.

Of course, the guy was fucking handsome as fuck. Nice broad shoulders and muscular arms. Cute face with a mischievous smile and nose scrunch when he laughed. A sweet, tiny mole underneath his lower lip and another on his cheek. Neat black hair swept to one side, begging to have hands running through those strands. Round, brown doe eyes. Thighs could probably crush him and Yoongi would be happy about it. And then she came out of her apartment in her tight black dress and heels, sliding into the guy’s arms so easily and giving him a kiss. The dress showed off her nice round ass and juicy, squeezable thighs.

It was all fucking terrible for Yoongi.

“Ooh, you’re looking pretty for me today, love.”

“Wow, Jungkook, contain yourself for one second so we can at least eat first.”

“I’m ready to eat something, that’s for sure.”

He was not creeping; he was collecting a package outside his door. That was it. He was not the least bit interested in what was going on next to him.

Holly raced out of his apartment, his tiny fluffy brown butt bouncing as he rushed to the people, barking excitedly. Yoongi nearly dropped his package in surprise, shoving it under his arm and rushing over.

“Holly, no! I’m so sorry–”

The guy, Jungkook, laughed as he crouched down, barking back at Holly playfully.

“Aren’t you cute? What’s your name, little one?”

His next-door neighbor smiled at him. Yoongi was ready to crawl into a hole in embarrassment. Not only was he looking frumpy as fuck in a stained white t-shirt and black sweats, but he was also struggling to wrangle Holly with a large box under his arm. To top it off, Jungkook was not making it any easier by chasing Holly around. Yoongi’s black hair was messy and unbrushed, long enough to almost cover his eyes. He was basically a hobo compared to these two.

“I’m sorry for interrupting, he’s a bit–”

“It’s okay.”

He froze up. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

“What’s your dog’s name?”

He swallowed. “H-Holly.” Oh shit. He accidentally looked at her chest. Why did she have such pretty collarbones? She seemed not to notice. Instead she looked over to Jungkook who was wrestling with Holly on the floor and rubbing his belly.

“He’s really cute,” she said with a smile. “You don’t mind if Jungkook plays with him a little, do you?”

“N-no,” Yoongi mumbled, biting his lip. She had plump, shapely lips stained red.

She held her hand out. “I only moved in last month.” He placed her hand in hers. She had a nice, firm handshake. She was telling him her name and he was imagining her hand wrapped around his cock. He needed to get a grip.

“Min Yoongi,” he said robotically. What are social skills? Yoongi didn’t remember any of them at the moment.

“That’s Jeon Jungkook,” she was saying, pointing to the young man on the floor. Holly was licking his hands excitedly. Yoongi noticed a small heart tattooed onto Jungkook’s right hand. Fuck. He had nice hands too. His cock was waking up. Oh fuck.

“Come on, Holly, we have to go now.”

“Aww,” Jungkook whined. Why the fuck was this guy so fucking cute? Please have mercy. Jungkook waved to Holly with a smile. “See you later, Holly!”

Yoongi bowed awkwardly and scurried back into his apartment, Holly bounding in behind him as he shut the door. He barely even squeaked out a goodbye. He didn’t have a chance because – yup, now he had a giant boner.

Holly wagged his tail and barked up at Yoongi, who sighed and shook his head.

His brother asked to take Holly for a while. It was fine with Yoongi; his older brother was going camping with his wife and Holly loved being outdoors. Actually, he invited Yoongi, but Yoongi knew he wasn’t an outdoorsy kind of guy and suggested Holly to go instead. Holly loved Yoongi’s brother – maybe even more than Yoongi himself, the traitor. To be honest, if his brother decided to have kids soon, Yoongi had always said it would be a good idea for Holly to grow up with them. Dogs were an essential part of childhood, after all.

That’s why Yoongi was sitting alone in his apartment, reading, with no dog noises around him to distract him. It was nice, quiet, and serene.

Or it would be, if it wasn’t for his next-door neighbor literally fucking up a storm.

Instead, Yoongi was seething at the shared wall next to him as he was very clearly hearing someone getting banged. Which was fine, because people were allowed to do what they wanted. Yoongi didn’t care. Except he did kind of care, because he was absolutely sure it was Jungkook fucking the daylights out of his hot-as-fuck next door neighbor. It was also upsetting because his dick was suddenly awake and saying hello as if he had been called to attention.

But, nope, it was just Yoongi sitting alone glaring at the wall that separated him and giving the two of them a piece of his mind.

Or his meat.

He frowned and made a face. He didn’t have thoughts like that. No, not him, Min Yoongi. He was pure, he definitely did not have any naughty thoughts, nope, not a single o–

A particularly lustful moan of Jungkook’s name cut though his thoughts.

Was he sitting at the chair closest to the wall? Maybe. Well, he was. Could he just move to his kitchen and not hear anything? Yes. Was he going to move?

No.

What number was this anyway? Did Jungkook have the stamina of a horse or something? Not that Yoongi cared, mind you. He certainly did not. It was interesting to think about, that’s all. And then he heard something he thought he would never, ever hear.

“Oh, fuck, Yoooongi!”

Um, what? Did he hear that correctly? Yoongi sat up, raising an eyebrow at the wall. It must have been his imagination, surely, because the sound of skin on skin was not stopping. There was no way she had said the wrong name by accident, right? And Jungkook wouldn’t just let her blurt some other guy’s name out for no reason, right?

He glared at the wall suspiciously, as if it could answer.

Eventually the sounds died down, which was a relief. Hours went by and all Yoongi could think about was her saying his name. There was no way she accidentally said his name while getting fucked by Jungkook. Making that kind of mistake was unforgivable. He ended up ordering take out because to be honest he couldn’t really concentrate on cooking. Yoongi frowned as his doorbell pinged, walking to the door automatically. He must have manifested his thoughts or something like that. He placed his hand on the knob and opened it. It was his imagination, surely–

“Hey, did you order delivery? The person accidentally dropped it off at our door.”

Yoongi almost fell over.

His next-door neighbor blinked at him as he struggled to find his words. She was wearing a big baggy white t-shirt that clung to her body. No pants. The bag was in front of her chest. He could barely see the light pink of her panties.

“Ah, it wasn’t the other door. Is it his?”

Jungkook bounded over, black hair messy, his doe-like eyes wide with curiosity. Grey t-shirt, gray sweatpants. Tattoos going up his right arm. Yoongi nearly had a heart attack seeing his muscular arms.

“Uh, ah–yes, it’s mine, sorry–”

She smiled and held it out to him.

“Here you go.”

His eyes almost bulged out of his head – she wasn’t wearing a bra, holy shit – and he nearly dropped the bag if it wasn’t for Jungkook’s quick reflexes placing his hand at the bottom of the bag.

“Whoa, careful there.”

Thankfully his arm was now blocking her tits so Yoongi snatched the bag and bowed profusely, mumbling apologies.

“Sorry to trouble you.”

“It’s no problem,” she said brightly. “Enjoy your meal.”

She waved and Yoongi finally looked up, seeing her body turned away from him. Oh, whew. Then he looked up to their faces.

And found both of them smirking at him before they went back into her apartment.

“They’re fucking with me, Hoseok!”

“Calm down, hyung. I think you’re thinking about it too much.”

That’s what his best friend Jung Hoseok told him over dinner. Yoongi was having none of it.

“How can I be over-thinking it when they’re smirking at me at my front door?”

Hoseok winced. “I don’t know, maybe you imagined it. Why would your next-door neighbor and her boyfriend do something like that?”

“I don’t know, it’s not bad, it’s just–”

“Wait, you like it?”

“… I didn’t–”

Hoseok had burst out laughing like a lunatic.

The laughter rang in Yoongi’s ears as he stood at his front door, silently fuming. He shouldn’t have told Hoseok. But who was he supposed to tell? He wasn’t that close with many of his friends, after all. And Hoseok didn’t end up being mean about it in the end. Yoongi rubbed his forehead, shoving his hair under his black cap. Ah, it was probably just an empty hope after all. He was over-thinking it. Only an absolute loon would think that his next-door neighbor and her boyfriend wanted to have a threesome with him.

“Yoongi?”

He jumped, jerking away from his door suddenly. She stared at him, lip quivering, a worried look on her face. Cropped pink sweatshirt and leggings. Whew, at least she was clothed.

“Sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you. Is this a bad time?”

“I wasn’t scared,” he said automatically. “Only surprised.” He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, what was it?”

“Oh, I just…” She rubbed the back of her head sheepishly, fluffing her hair. Fuck. Stop being cute. “I don’t mean to pry, but I haven’t seen you walk Holly lately. I was wondering if he was okay?”

Oh. Right. His dog. “Ah, Holly is with my brother right now. He’s fine. We sort of have shared custody of him since we all grew up together,” Yoongi added with an awkward smile. Ack. Social skills, what even are they?

“Oh, that’s a relief!” She placed a hand on her chest and smiled. “I’m sorry if I was being too nosy.”

He waved a hand. “It’s okay. I’m surprised you noticed.”

“Who wouldn’t notice? You always looked so happy walking him.” He was pretty sure his heart was going to burst if she kept smiling at him like that. “You’re so cute when you smile.”

“Ah…” Hang on, what? His cheeks began to warm.

“You must love dogs.”

Right. His dog. He chuckled. “I don’t usually, but somehow Holly made his way into my heart.”

She looked rueful. “I’m jealous of him.”

What?

“It must be difficult to win your heart.”

Was she… flirting with him?

She smiled innocently at him but those eyes were giving him a different story. The mischievous sparkle made his response die in his throat. He stared at her for a good minute.

“What… about Jungkook?”

“What about me?”

Yoongi felt his entire body freeze. He was caught. Shit, shit, shit.

Jungkook brushed past him ever-so-slightly, hand lingering on Yoongi’s jacket-covered arm before he hugged her tightly, kissing her forehead. She smiled up at him. Jungkook grinned at her and turned back to Yoongi with a bright bunny-like smile.

“Hey.”

Yoongi looked away quickly, realizing he was observing much too closely. “Er, hello.”

“Hey, Yoongi.”

He swallowed and looked up, raising his eyebrows. “Yes?”

Her lips curved into a sly smile.

“If you’re ever feeling up to it, we would love you to come over sometime.”

Jungkook grinned. “Any time!”

Oh, fuck. Jungkook’s hands were on her waist, sliding down slowly. Tongue in his teeth as she leaned against his chest with that foxy smile. Yoongi opened his mouth, but the only sound he made was an awkward croak. He coughed and looked away.

“I’ll… keep that in mind.”

Yoongi hastily fumbled with the door lock and ran into his apartment, praying that neither of them could see his blushing face and his massive hard-on.

“They said you could come over any time. You are not crazy. You are just being nice.”

Yoongi stood in front of his next door-neighbor’s door like a zombie, clutching one bottle of red wine and a bottle of whiskey for dear life. He had contemplated his outfit three times before deciding that a long-sleeved white shirt, black jeans, and ripped gray denim jacket was not trying too hard. But just to be sure, he wore his nicer black boxer briefs and not the ones with holes in them.

Just…

In case.

“They don’t want to fuck you. They’re being nice.”

The door suddenly opened.

Yoongi’s eyes went wide. He sputtered. “A-ah!”

Oh my god.

Was it even possible for a woman to be this pretty? Decked in a floaty, red dress with a delicate bow around her neck and fluffy white slippers, his next-door neighbor seemed surprised to see him. The fabric floated down and clung to her curves, dipping inward in between her legs. Her eyebrows raised in surprise and her plump lips curved into a small ‘o’.

“Yoongi! I wasn’t expecting you for another ten minutes! Jungkook told me he just arrived.”

“I’m here, darling.”

Jungkook’s deep voice purred behind Yoongi. The older man nearly jumped and turned to see Jungkook right behind him – how long had he been there? Black t-shirt, black jeans, chunky black sneakers. Jungkook’s lips curved into a mischievous smile and he leaned over Yoongi, his chest brushing against Yoongi’s shoulder. Yoongi felt his heartbeat skyrocket at the sudden closeness until he realized Jungkook was kissing his girlfriend on the forehead, patting her head gently.

“Fancy for a just watching a movie,” Jungkook teased. She stuck her tongue out at him.

“I just bought this dress! I can wear whatever I want.”

“Yes, you can, and you look cute in it too.”

Yoongi would have been paying attention except he suddenly felt Jungkook’s hand against his back, sliding slightly downwards. He froze, breath caught in his throat. It wasn’t that he was starved for intimacy or anything. Okay, maybe he was a little bit, but, shit, what was he supposed to do with two very obviously hot as fuck people were seducing him? Ignore it?

No, he most certainly was not.

Yoongi stumbled, nerves rattling him. He felt strong arms hold him straight.

“Oh, sorry, did you trip?” Jungkook asked, worry laced in his voice.

“Ack, where are my manners? Come in, come in.”

He felt Jungkook push him lightly. Yoongi swallowed and stepped inside the apartment, still clutching the two bottles of alcohol for dear life. He was afraid that if he let go, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from… uh. Things. Breathe deep, Min Yoongi. You are not fifteen.

“These… are for you.”

He held out the two bottles to her. She tilted her head as she read the labels, taking them from him. It took all of Yoongi’s power not to grab her tits.

“Oh, thank you! Look, Jungkook, he bought red wine, your favorite!”

Jungkook bounded past him excitedly and took the bottle from her. “Ah, yesss! All for me!”

Yoongi blinked. “You don’t drink?”

She tapped the whiskey bottle. “I do. Just not wine.”

Watching a movie? Yeah, right.

How was Yoongi supposed to watch anything at all? One look at Jungkook in his loose black t-shirt and, fuck, he was reminded the guy’s entire right arm was tattooed. Holy shit. And her? Wrapped so nicely in floaty red fabric with that bow around her neck. It meant the dress had a deep neckline and he could see the curve of her cleavage, the plushness of her breasts.

Fuck this movie. Yoongi literally had no idea what was on the screen at this point.

She leaned against Jungkook as he sipped his wine. Every so often, she poured herself a shot of whiskey and drank it. Like… what? Granted, it wasn’t very much, but he had never seen a woman just… do that. She would smile and settle back onto the couch, into the curve of Jungkook’s arm. His tattooed arm. Jungkook would then drape it around her again, fingertips almost touching her breast. All this, happening within ten inches of Yoongi, who was sitting on her right side.

He didn’t know what number he was on now. Yoongi wasn’t a lightweight but he couldn’t calm his nerves either. Nerves or growing lust?

Both.

Yoongi looked away and stared at the screen. He didn’t know what he was looking at. All he could think about was faceplanting into those tits and Jungkook’s hands all over him. Or her sitting on his face as Jungkook sucked him off. Or, her sitting on Jungkook’s face and him sucking Jungkook off–

“Yoongi.”

He nearly flung his glass in surprise but she reached over and took it from him. Her breasts brushed against his arm and Yoongi stiffened, trying to keep his face neutral.

“I think you need to slow down. Are you okay?” she said worriedly, placing the whiskey glass on the coffee table.

“No.” He shook his head quickly and cleared his throat. “I mean, yes. Yes, I’m fine.”

Jungkook and her stared at him.

Yoongi raised a hand and took a deep breath. “Er… I am getting this feeling,” he said awkwardly.

She tilted her head. “Hm?”

“It’s nothing.”

Jungkook shook his head. “No, no. If you’re not comfortable, then we understand. You should go home if you’re not feeling well.”

No, that’s not really what I want. I want to fuck, damnnit!

“Ah…” Yoongi swallowed at the sudden attention placed on him. “It’s not that.” He was a straightforward person. He didn’t know how to make it sound metaphorical or pretty. “You two have a very strong… presence.”

She frowned slightly. “Is that bad for you?”

“N-no. It’s, er… attractive.”

Oh shit. He said it.

“Ah, I meant–” Yoongi coughed, looking away quickly. “The other day… I thought I heard my name… But it must have been a mistake, right?” He laughed awkwardly. “Sorry, I shouldn’t say such–”

A softness pressed against him. Yoongi wasn’t wearing his jacket, only his long-sleeved white shirt. He froze. The softness slid up his arm. He could feel the weight of her body against him. His brain was turning into mush. Oh god, oh god, oh god…

“You heard me?” The words purred against his neck, hot and heavy.

He couldn’t turn around. He couldn’t. Yoongi tried to collect his words, fumbling through them.

“N-not on purpose…”

“You want me to say your name again? So you can hear it in person?”

The weight lifted. Slowly, Yoongi turned his head. His eyes trailed up her legs, to the floaty red fabric, to her waist, then up her chest to her face. She smiled slyly at him. Strong hands, one tattooed, one not, slid up her sides, grasping the bottom ties that held the bow together. Jungkook’s mischievous face popped up from behind her head. Yoongi just stared at them, eyes wide, mouth slightly open like a surprised kitten.

The bow teased apart, slowly. Jungkook’s hands slid inside the fabric, pushing it away. Yoongi’s breath caught in his throat. Jungkook cupped her breasts gently, rubbing his palms over them. She was wearing heart shaped pasties to cover her nipples. Yoongi was aware that he could run right now. He could have just stood up and walked out and that weirdness would have been over. Except, well…

His hand lifted. Yoongi hesitated for a moment, looking into her eyes.

She smirked and wrapped her fingers around his. His heart thumped loudly in his ribcage as she led him to her chest.

“You can take it off, if you want,” she said gently.

Yoongi swallowed as his fingertips touched her breast. Oh, so soft. He hooked a nail underneath the sticky material and pulled lightly. Nothing. She chuckled and shook her head.

“Little harder, Yoongi.”

His name was a soft purr. Yoongi bit his lower lip and yanked a little harder. It came off in his hand. He blinked rapidly in surprise, hoping he didn’t hurt her. His second thought was…

Holy shit, her nipple.

It was prominent, sticking straight out at him. It would have been visible through the fabric of the dress due to its size. Thinking about that was arousing him. Yoongi felt as if his whole face was heating up. He vaguely registered Jungkook peeling off the second one and dropping it on the coffee table. Now there were two – great math there, Yoongi, he scolded himself – and he sat like a statue, unable to comprehend that this was real.

Jungkook pushed her breasts together, trapping her nipples between his index and middle finger. He rolled them slowly. Yoongi watched in fascination as her eyes slid closed and her head tipped back, a breathy moan dripping from her lips. Jungkook squeezed and kneaded her breasts, nose buried in her neck as he inhaled deeply, murmuring her name. Her eyelids fluttered.

“A-ah… Yoongi…”

There was no wall blocking his view now. It was real.

Yoongi sat up a little straighter, leaning forward. He was still too afraid to touch.

“Y-yes?”

Her hand came up and stroked his cheek softly. He leaned into her touch, hungry. Her thumb pressed against his lips.

“Wanna kiss you.”

He cursed his bad habit of chewing on his lips, but leaned forward delicately. His eyes flickered to Jungkook, who was watching him with amusement. He wanted to ask. Are you sure? Jungkook seemed to understand and he nodded, smile turning gentler at Yoongi’s nervousness.

His eyes found hers again. Her lips parted. She led him to her face, closing her eyes slowly as her lips touched his. So soft, so gentle. It wasn’t the kiss he expected from his daydreams. It was warm and calm, soothing his nerves. His hands came up to cup her cheeks as the kiss deepened, tongue dancing against tongue. Everything just felt so soft. So lovely.

He felt Jungkook take his hands and slide them down. Yoongi gasped into her mouth as his palms touched her nipples. She moaned at his touch, nipping at his lower lip as he squeezed them, rolling her nipples with his thumb. They were just the right measure of hardness and softness. Her hands found his jeans and she pulled him closer by the waist, his body against hers.

“Yoongi-ssi…”

It wasn’t her voice. It was Jungkook’s, leaning forward and pushing up his shirt, running his hands over his skin. Yoongi gasped, suddenly feeling embarrassed. It was so obvious that Jungkook was more muscular and stronger than he was. But she held him close, kissing his jaw and neck. Jungkook’s face came into view, small smile dancing on his lips.

“I can call you that, right? Even though you’re my hyung?”

At this point, Yoongi didn’t even remember what honorifics were. “Whatever you want,” he muttered breathlessly. Jungkook chuckled and leaned forward, placing his lips on his. Oh, yes. More passionate, intense. Yoongi felt himself moan into Jungkook’s mouth and the younger man sucked on his tongue, hands along his back, pressing him into her.

It took a moment to untangle slightly. Breathing hard, Yoongi found himself looking into two pairs of lustful eyes.

“What do you want to do, Yoongi?”

Seducing Min Yoongi hadn’t been easy. There had been moments where you wondered if you had gone too far, or if Jungkook had teased him a little too much. It had been a long, carefully laid out plan. In fact, Jungkook almost gave up in the middle at one point and tried to convince you that he should hump him to get the message across. It had been a little difficult. But it was all worth it.

Because now you two managed to get Yoongi in the bedroom, flat on his back, your pussy in his face and Jungkook’s mouth on his cock. And oh, fuck, his fucking tongue. It had taken some more fondling and kisses to make Yoongi say it.

“Could I… eat you out while Jungkook sucks me off? Is that too much or–”

You grinded your hips into Yoongi’s face, sucking in a breath as Jungkook’s head bobbed up and down on Yoongi’s cock. Jungkook naked was already enough to make you wet. His muscular back, that ass, his tattooed arm, and his forearms flexing as he held Yoongi’s hips down. Could he suck dick as well as you? No, but he had a pretty good idea considering you were excellent at it. Watching Yoongi’s cock slide in and out of his mouth was a delicious sight. Yoongi’s tongue lapping at your clit had you dripping into his mouth. Somehow, he had just the right amount of pressure and roughness as he stroked you to climax, nails digging into your thighs.

You moaned in satisfaction, panting Yoongi’s name. Jungkook’s brown eyes flickered up to you and he made a muffled noise as he witnessed you playing with your nipples, squeezing and pulling on them lightly. You saw his hips jerk, humping the bed. You grinned. Teasing Jungkook was fun.

Yoongi tapped your leg and you got up, concerned. But he was clutching the sheets, gasping, head thrown back as he groaned, shoving his crotch into Jungkook’s face. Jungkook’s eyes widened and he gripped Yoongi’s hips, swallowing nosily as Yoongi’s entire body shuddered.

“F-fuck!”

You smiled as Jungkook sucked him dry, slowly rubbing his tongue around Yoongi’s cock as he cleaned him up. Yoongi did not seem like he was expecting this at all and moaned loudly, probably a little too loud. Jungkook dipping his head slowly, down, down, until the sensitive head hit the back of his throat. Yoongi’s face scrunched up, slipping into a moan as Jungkook slowly pulled back, Yoongi’s cock popping out of his lips.

Jungkook grinned. “Did I do good?”

You smiled. “Of course, my love.”

Yoongi squinted at him. “How the fuck did you learn how to do that?”

Jungkook pointed to you. “From the best.”

You smiled and Yoongi raised an eyebrow.

“Can I try something?” Jungkook asked, tugging on your arm.

You nodded. “What is it?”

Jungkook pulled you to him and kissed you, smiling against your lips. He readjusted you to be on top of Yoongi, your back to his chest. Yoongi made a disgruntled noise, but you rubbed your ass against his still sensitive cock, making him gasp. His hands wrapped around you. Yoongi had pretty hands, the kind of hands that made you pause the first time you saw him, the kind of hands you dreamed about touching you, the kind of hands that made your body melt. You were a bit disappointed that you couldn’t see Yoongi’s handsome face in his position but Jungkook was lifting your legs now, setting them on his shoulders. The condom was already on.

Jungkook smirked.

Was this man really going to expose your favorite position right now?

“Jung–fuuuuuck!”

His cock slid into you, slow and deep and hard. You yelped, feeling Yoongi grab your breasts and knead them. You liked this position for several reasons – one, Jungkook had you basically trapped under his body, and, two, Jungkook had power and gravity on his side. Thus, he could fuck you hard and deep at the same time, absolutely ruining you. And watch your face while he was doing it.

“Jungkook, ah, so deep,” you moaned, leaning against Yoongi’s chest as he pinched your nipples. Your pussy clenched, squeezing Jungkook’s cock inside you.

“That’s how you like it,” he drawled, rolling his hips into you, making his cock throb. You whimpered, looking deep into Jungkook’s eyes. Yoongi pinched your nipples and you whined as Jungkook thrust into your leisurely, burying himself in your folds.

“Whose idea was it to scream Yoongi’s name while we were fucking, hm?” Jungkook teased, fucking with such force that your ass bounced against Yoongi’s dick each time. You could feel him getting hard as your ass rubbed against it.

“M-mine,” you reply, earning you a slightly harder pace.

“So naughty,” Jungkook purred, licking his lips. “You wanted Yoongi so bad, didn’t you, love?”

You could only moan as Jungkook began to fuck you harder. Yoongi’s cock was smearing pre-cum all over you. You tried to desperately rub your ass against his cock, feeling it throb underneath you. It wetly slapped your ass every time Jungkook bounced you up and down.

“Fuck,” Yoongi grunted, kissing your neck. “Fuck, you two are seriously not fair.”

“Yoongi, ah, Jungkook…”

Yoongi rolled your nipples against his fingers and pinched them. You cried out, pussy clenching as your orgasm hit you, so overflowed with stimulation that you could barely think. Jungkook gritted his teeth, maintaining his pace as they worked you up again, Yoongi’s fingers rolling your nipples and Jungkook fucking you deep. It was an absolute mess of your own cum dripping down and Yoongi’s pre-cum mixing with it. The head of Yoongi’s hard cock was rubbing against your ass. You could watch Jungkook thrusting in and out of you, shiny and glistening.

“Ah, fuuuuck!”

You moaned as you came again, thick juices gushing down and coating Yoongi’s cock. Jungkook shuddered at your pussy tightening around him. You felt Yoongi’s hips shudder as he sucked in a breath sharply, groaning at the sensitivity as he came on your ass and up your thigh, splattering onto Jungkook’s legs.

Jungkook grinned triumphantly before fucking you even harder. It didn’t take long before he hissed, cock jerking inside you as he came, your name dragged out in a long moan. His jaw clenched, hips thrusting a little to get the last drops out of his softening cock.

After a moment, he pulled out, leaving you panting and sore in Yoongi’s arms. He got up to clean himself off, looking for a towel. Yoongi buried his face in your neck. You could feel his warm cheeks.

“Sorry about the bed,” he mumbled.

You reached back and petted his hair, breathing his name. You rubbed your ass against him and Yoongi stiffened. It made you grin.

“Stay the night, Yoongi.”

He nuzzled your hair even though he grumbled a bit.

“F-fine.”

part ii

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #jungkook smut #bts smut #min yoongi x you #jeon jungkook x you #min yoongi smut #jeon jungkook smut

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pascalpanic · 3 years

Text

Caffeine Rush: Chapter Three / Cappucino

Summary: Javier shows up to your coffee shop again, at an ungodly hour.

W/C: 3K

Warnings: food/eating, coffee, implied age gap (reader is about 25)

A/N: I don’t have anything to say I just hope you guys enjoy :)) OH JK YES I DO: I’ve decided that Caffeine Rush will come out on mondays or tuesdays, alternating every week!

previous chapter || next chapter || masterlist

Cappuccino: two-thirds frothed milk, one-third espresso. Light and airy, full of fluff. Has a stronger coffee flavor than a latte.

As you drive him back to the hotel, you smile over at him. He looks so gorgeous, his dark hair dampened from the snow, his lips soft and extra pink from being pressed to yours. “How long did you say you’re in town for?” You ask him.

“A month,” the man tells you with a nod. “There’s a whole policy with vacation time. Use it or lose it, basically. They told me I had to use it now, so I told them to give me a month. I really have about… three months saved up now,” he chuckles.

The thought makes you grin. Javier will be here for Christmas. He’ll be here for New Year’s- that is, if he’s staying. “And what are your plans for it?” You ask softly. You hope whatever they are, they won’t take him away from you.

Javier is eating the second red velvet cake in the passenger’s seat, and you giggle at the sight before turning back to the road. Crumbs gather on the top of his shirt and in his mustache, flecks of red in the warm brown.

He smiles at your laughter. “I have none. I have no work to do. I can’t go back to Colombia early- well, I could, but I won’t be working so it wouldn’t be worth much,” he sighs, thinking aloud. “I could go home and visit my father, but I couldn’t stay there for very long. My hometown is a place you only want to stay for two or three days, at most.”

Your eyes watch his face, that surprisingly soft skin and how it moves with his expressions. Your eyes are holding a question, even if you don’t ask it aloud. Javier can read it without your words as he turns to look at you. “I’ve heard D.C. is nice over the holidays,” you offer softly. It’s less of an offer and more of a silent question: please stay. I want you to stay.

Turning back to you, there’s cream cheese frosting in his mustache and an adorable smirk on his face. Just when you thought it was impossible for this man to be any more beautiful. “I think that sounds like a wonderful idea. Then, like I said earlier, I have time to properly romance you.”

You grin and stare at the road. “I don’t normally kiss on the first date. I don’t think it’ll be hard for you to romance me,” you tease. “I can be your personal tour guide to the city. I only work mornings, so we can do whatever we want all day and night. Which is good, because the Smithsonians are only open during the day, and I want to take you to all of them.”

You ramble when you’re excited. Javier can already tell, can see you slowly leaving that shell you’ve hidden yourself in through all of your time in D.C. Your eyes glimmer in excitement as you consider the things you can do, the places you can take him.

Javier smiles back. “You’ll have to show me everything. I’ve never been here for anything other than work.”

“Oh, trust me,” you laugh. “I know all the best parts of the city. You’ll never be bored with me around.”

Javier’s immediately certain that’s true.

You told Javier last night that you work from 5:00 to 10:30, and he told you he’d swing by for a coffee. What else did he have to do without you?

What you didn’t expect was for the door chime to jingle at precisely 5:34, and for the customer that enters to be none other than the newest head of the DEA’s investigations into the Cali Cartel.

Rushing around the counter, you laugh and throw your arms around him. “Hi, Javi,” you chuckle and bury your face into his neck. He wears a warm red flannel and dark blue jeans, boots beneath them and a thick black coat over it all. He smells like soap and aftershave.

“I’m starting to like the fact that you’re a hugger,” he laughs as he hugs you back, resting his head on top of yours.

You break away and brush off your apron. “When I said you should come visit me, I meant, like, at normal human functioning hours. Like, maybe 9 or something.”

Javier frowns a little as he looks at you. “This is when I normally get up. Later than normal, actually,” he shrugs and puts his hands in his pockets. “You got a dark roast this morning?” He asks as he nods his head to the side, gesturing to the big vats of brewing coffee.

You smile at the question, chuckling a little. Of course he’s observant and remembers little details- it’s his literal job. “We do. Large redeye?” You ask, already heading behind the counter and back to the ceramic mugs.

The man tilts his head. “Actually… I think I changed my mind. Can I do another peppermint mocha?” he asks, a shy look on his face.

Looking up at him, you bite your lip at his expression. He’s so goddamn cute, really, even when he’s being ashamed for something stupid. “You don’t have to be shy about it,” you tease and nod. “There’s nothing less manly about you for ordering something sweet. In fact, most of the sweet drinks we make here are ordered by the business guys or Congressmen.”

Javier chuckles and leans forward on the counter on his elbows. “Oh, yeah?”

You nod and laugh at the memory of other customers. “Matthew, he works at the senators’ offices downtown, he’s a regular. He orders a caramel frappe with marshmallow and vanilla. Full shots of both.” As always, you happily chat as you make the recipe you know by heart.

Javier’s brow furrows. You’ve known the man maybe 24 hours, but you’re starting to get a good read on him. You can tell when he’s confused or worried or happy or stressed by the way his eyebrows position themselves. This one is a lighthearted confusion. “What’s a frappe?”

Your eyes glimmer with uncharacteristic excitement for so early in the morning. “Wait. So you’re telling me you’ve never had one?”

He shakes his head, pulling his leather jacket tighter around him. The shop is cold this early in the morning, before the body heat of customers and the steaming espresso machines warm the building. “No. What is it?” He asks again.

“It’s delicious, oh my god,” you grin. “It’s kind of like a coffee milkshake. It’s frozen and creamy, blended with ice and coffee. It’s my favorite in the summer, when hot drinks just feel too much.”

“So it’s light?” He asks, gratefully accepting his ceramic mug when you hand it over. It’s peaked with foamy white cream and pieces of candy canes. Javier thinks it reminds him of you. Soft, warm, sweet and indulgent. Energizing. Not like anything he’s ever had before, but he’s already addicted.

“Not really. Like I said, it’s really creamy. It’s like a milkshake, really. That’s the best way to describe it. Do you want me to make one and you can try some?” You offer as you stir the spare espresso shot with a little cream and sugar in a to-go cup for yourself. The warm sugary scent rises and you smile to yourself.

Javier shakes his head. “Not if it’s a cold drink. It’s too cold outside anyway. And in here. You do have heating in here, right?” He asks dryly as he sips the hot drink. You can see his broad shoulders soften, the tension rising into the air with the steam from his mocha.

You roll your eyes but shrug. “It’ll get hot in here later. I just appreciate that it’s cold now,” you chuckle and chug the espresso shot, tossing the paper cup into the garbage. “What can I get you for breakfast?” You ask as you nod to the pastry case further down the bar.

He shakes his head. “Don’t eat breakfast.”

You frown. “That’s going to have to change. You seem like the type who doesn’t take care of yourself, thinks he’s too good for it,” you tease and fold your arms on the countertop, leaning into it.

Javier scoffs. “I am not too good for breakfast,” he says, amused.

“Then eat.”

The mustached man rolls his eyes. “Fine. Maybe I don’t take very good care of myself, but I don’t need you to take care of me.”

That makes you frown. “Well, that’s too bad, because if you want to kiss me like we did last night, you’re going to have to let me take care of you, Javi.”

Javi. No one ever calls him that. He’s always Agent or Agente Peña, usually just Peña for the sake of convenience. Those who know him better call him Javier, people like Steve or Trujillo. True, he asked you to call him Javi, but the name is like a song from your lips, as soft as calling him baby. He absolutely fucking loves it. Can’t get enough of it.

You begin to babble on about the baker here and his skills, talking about the various treats beneath the glass case. There are muffins and scones, donuts and sweet breads, croissants and various puff-pastry delicacies. Javier is overwhelmed. He normally doesn’t eat many sweets, even though he loves them.

A cinnamon-sugar sprinkled pastry twist calls to him. He asks for one of those and insists that he pay for it, even as you wander away from the cash register to prove he can’t pay.

Javier stands at the bar as you make yourself your own hot drink, chatting as you stir the syrup with the espresso. God, you love that mustache, you think as you smile to yourself and look down. “So. How did the mustache come to be?” You ask him, smiling and tilting your head to the side in question.

Javier raises an eyebrow. “This?” He laughs, smoothing it down with his forefinger and thumb. It brushes out some sprinkles of cinnamon and sugar from his pastry and you bite your lip to hold back a laugh.

You both have to talk a bit louder as you begin steaming the milk for your cappuccino, but it hides your giggle as you say your next words: “Yes, the porn stache.”

“Hey,” he frowns and sips his drink, setting it back down and smiling again. “It was a thing with my father. When I turned 30, he told me I was a real man now, and real men wear mustaches. He always had one, so I said okay. He shaved it for me and taught me the right way to do it and everything. I liked the way it looked, and it stuck, I guess,” he shrugs and chuckles.

“Really? Because that thing looks straight out of 1975, but I don’t think you’re old enough for it to be that old.” You giggle. The mustache is very retro, certainly behind the times and the fashion of ‘93. “You can’t possibly be… what would that make you from ‘75… 45?”

Javier shrugs. “Well, you’re not far off. I’m 40.”

Your brow furrows. You certainly hadn’t expected that. He looks so young, really. 40 wasn’t even a thought in your mind- maybe a stressed-out 30. “Really?” You ask, though you doubt he’d lie and make himself seem older. He should probably know that you’re around the proper age you are, seeing as you’ve told him about just finishing grad school.

He frowns too. “Is that a problem?” He asks hurriedly, standing up straight from his hunched position, where he leaned over the counter to be closer to you.

“No, no,” you shake your head, and his body relaxes. “Of course not,” you smile and put your hand over his. “You just look really young for 40.”

Javier shakes his head, smiling a little at the compliment. He doesn’t get many of those, the ones where people tell him he looks young or he’s cute or any non-sexual compliments in general. “No I don’t. You’re just being cute.”

“No!” You laugh happily. “You saw my face. You’re a special agent of the D-E-A,” you say, drawing out the letters. “Head of the Calí Cartel investigations. You can read me like a damn book, Javi,” you smile at him. “Tell me, do I look like I’m lying?”

Javier shakes his head, the smile growing wider and his cheeks turning a slightly warmer shade. These kind of honest, pure and uncomplicated compliments make him almost embarrassed. “Yeah, yeah,” he sighs, brushing it off.

You’re absolutely beaming by now. “You’re not used to this, are you?” You tease as you scoop the foam from the milk pitcher into your ceramic mug, with chocolate and almond syrup in the bottom already. Mandy’s in the back stocking something, and no one else is in the shop yet. With this privacy, you lean across the counter, and Javier matches your position.

His face is painfully close to yours. You can feel his coffee breath, and you giggle softly. “Hey. Javi.”

“Yeah?” He asks teasingly.

“I like you a lot.”

Javier laughs genuinely, kissing you softly for a moment before breaking away and standing up straight again. “I like you too, abejita,” he says and finishes off his peppermint mocha.

“What does that mean?” You ask him. You’re nearly fluent in Spanish, from having studied it for years, but the word is unfamiliar.

“Little bee,” he chuckles. “You’re fluttering around this coffee shop like you’re on an adrenaline rush and it’s 5:30 in the goddamn morning.”

Little bee. It makes your heart race in your chest like a bee’s wings, a million beats per second. Goddamnit, this Javier knows what he’s doing, you think to yourself. He must be doing this for the sole purpose of stealing your heart; why else would he be this fucking sweet and sexy and flirtatious?

“It’s the caffeine rush,” you shake your head and wave a hand dismissively. You’ve already chugged a few shots of espresso, and your chocolate-almond cappuccino is about halfway gone now. Either way, Javier makes your resting heart rate double just from looking your way.

“Sure,” he teases and raises an eyebrow. “I’m gonna hit the bathroom. Be right back.” He sticks his hands in the pockets of his heavy wool coat as he heads to the restrooms, near the front of the store.

You take his mug back and Mandy wanders out from the back. “Wow. Who’s got you so chatty?” She asks out of genuine curiosity. She didn’t see Javier come in or go to the bathroom.

You’d talked with Mandy while you prepared the store, filling her in on all of the details of last night’s date with Javier. “It’s, uh, Javi, actually,” you laugh softly as you pull more espresso shots to make him another peppermint mocha.

“You’re kidding,” the woman squeals, her curls flipping over her shoulder as she tosses them back. “Why is he here so early?” She asks in confusion, making herself a drink on the machine next to you.

Your foot taps out a quick rhythm against the tile floor beneath you, the energy already flowing through your body. “Beats me. He says he wakes up this early normally. I don’t know if I believe it, but…” you shrug and stir the shots into the peppermint syrup, scooping chocolate chips into a steaming pitcher with milk and putting it under the steaming wand.

“He’s in the DEA, isn’t he?” She asks. “Maybe they start work really early in the morning. I’ve heard they work really long hours.”

“Well, he did say he works a lot,” you nod. “I don’t know. Doesn’t matter. He’s here now and he’ll get to see me cry my way through the morning rush,” you say sarcastically.

Mandy nudges your shoulder. “Says the most competent barista who works here,” she scoffs. “You have everyone out the door in under three minutes. That’s no easy feat.”

“Okay,” you roll your eyes and pour the chocolate milk into the syrup and espresso, stirring it with a long, twisted spoon. “I doubt that, but thank you.” You swirl a perfect peak of whipped cream on the top, then sprinkle the candy cane pieces on.

“I think she’s right,” you hear Javier’s voice from the other side of the counter.

“Stalker,” you tease and put his mug in front of him.

“Am not. Just think you’re good at what you do.”

“I made you a refill,” you say, ignoring his compliment. “Oh, Javier, this is Mandy. You might remember her from yesterday. Mandy, this is Javier.”

She nods and shakes the hand that Javier offers. “Nice to meet you- well, again,” she says with a bright smile. “You got the prettiest girl here.”

“Mandy,” you roll your eyes. She just laughs as she makes her way to the back of the store again.

Javier watches her then turns back to you with a smile. “I think she was right on both of those,” he comments with a smile on his face.

“Go sit down, stop flirting with me, and drink your damn coffee, Javi,” you teasingly scold him with a smile, turning away to go wash the steaming pitcher and spoon you used to make his drink.

Another customer walks in the shop. You can tell from the jingle of the bells on the door. With that, Javier finds a table in the lobby and sits at it, reading the daily newspaper and sipping his peppermint mocha. He’s starting to see why you’re so addicted to these. To him, they taste like you. -

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic @yooforia @oceanablue @sara-alonso @pedrosmustache @feelingmadclever @hnt-escape @radiowallet @obsessivelysearching @sugarontherims @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @linnie0119 @1800-fight-me @autumnleaves1991-blog @toilet-keeper @evelynseventyr @metalarmsandmanbuns @shannababyy @sambucky21 @princess76179 @starless-eyes-remain

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña x you #javi peña #javi peña x reader #pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #narcos fanfic #narcos fanfiction #narcos #caffeine rush

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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years

Text

“you get me” (famous!y/n x harry)

Famous!y/n x Harry Styles

First Harry fic so please be kind, but feedback is SUPER appreciated

Initially inspired by the picture of Harry leaving the Gucci store with 15 bags but barely has anything to do with that lol

Definitely thought of Ellen for the interview idk why tho - also I struggle with writing Harry’s dialogue because I really want to get it right, but hopefully the more practice I get, the better/more natural it will sound. ALSO i have like no music or music industry background lol. Somewhat proofread, but its 2:30 am so it could be shit

Fluff!

Warnings: maybe some angst over being famous per say, past loneliness

Word Count: 3.7k literally howwww, i’m going to do a pt. 2 though because it was kind of a long set up and feelingsssss

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Interviewer: Please, welcome our next guest, a woman who’s sure to have her name written up beside the music greats someday, Ms. Y/N L/N!

You can’t contain the grin that spreads to your face as you carry yourself out onto the stage and see the audience cheering for you. It was your third big interview since your first album had been released and you’d seen your fame skyrocket over night. This being the third one this week meant you’d gotten comfortable getting asked questions, but you also weren’t bored of it yet. It was exhilarating being the center of attention, especially for something that had been your life’s work up until this point. You always had to fight for whatever you got and the recognition you were starting to have was reassurance that you hadn’t been a fool to risk a safe and certain life for your dreams.

The interview begins as the rest had, a few pleasantries, how you were feeling, and then the introduction of the album. The host asked you what your inspiration was for some of the songs and the album name and cover. You loved to talk about the music, it was the whole reason you were there. The meaning, the sound, the name, it all meant so much to you and you talked about how music can be interpreted differently by everyone and even the shifts in someone’s mood can change a song’s meaning, but what it meant to you at the time of writing was always something specific. You practiced those answers in the mirror before the interviews because they were important to you and you didn’t want your words on your art to ever be misconstrued. The host then complimented your style and you were at the point where you thought your interview should be wrapping up when they asked you one more question, and it threw you for a loop.

Interviewer: So Y/N, we’ve been hearing some rumblings around, about you and another famous musician, Mr. Harry Styles. Anything going on there?

Your face heated up, you hadn’t been expecting a personal question about possible relationships. Nothing like this had been asked of you at your previous interviews. It’s about the music, the art, and who you were, it’s always about that and nothing more. To be honest, you were a bit annoyed the host had chosen to stray from those topics. You didn’t care for the celebrity side of being a famous musician, the lack of privacy, the prying eyes of media and the general public. They saw enough of you through your art, you bore your soul through music why did they want to peak into your heart as well?

Y/N: I don’t know if I’d rather be with Harry Styles or actually be Harry Styles. Like, he’s literally such an icon, I want to be able to walk out of a Gucci store after spending hours there with 15 bags full of my purchases and helpers to carry it all out c’mon… He’s also an amazing songwriter, musician, and performer, of course. Didn’t mean to sound superficial, but I’d also love to own even half of his closet.

You hadn’t really answered the question, but the audience laughed and the host obviously got the hint that you weren’t interested in fanning any flames of romance with Harry Styles or anyone else. For one, you didn’t even know the man, but you had always been a loving fan of his. You cited him as one of your role models when you were first starting to try and break into the music world. Second, if you did know him, that wouldn’t be an appropriate topic for your album press junket going on, even if it meant more publicity because of Harry’s big celebrity status. The host decided to qualify their original question with a final sentiment.

Interviewer: I totally feel the same way! I only ask because the outpouring of support you’ve received seems to be from similar groups who also follow Harry. Many have been comparing your sound to his solo career work.

Y/N: Ah...well that’s very kind of people to say. He’s definitely a big inspiration, his creativity and drive is incredible. I’d love to be as successful as him someday.

The interview ended. You and the host shook hands and you waved and sent kisses to the crowd before retreating backstage. You were exhausted, but happy. You hoped to avoid anymore stressful interview questions that didn’t truly revolve around music. Of course, life is never that simple.

One month later

You had done countless more interviews and talk shows as promo for your album and the buzz around it had continued to grow. Your fame continued to rise as well and that one question you had dodged at your third interview had come back around to bite you, naturally. Daily Mail’s dumb headline read: “Y/N can’t decide! Date Harry Styles or Steal His Closet?” The Sun was also running with your response and miscontruing it completely, something about how you were madly in love with Harry but jealous of his designer partnerships, you couldn’t even stomach reading the garbage. This was your worst nightmare. Not only was it taking away the focus from your album, but you were also sure this dumb gossip had reached the very set of ears that the gossip was allegedly also about.

You had signed with Columbia Records for your first album, the same record label as Harry Styles, so managers had been in contact with one another about the whole fiasco trying to get the actual truth - which was that the two of you didn’t even know each other and there were no problems whatsoever. Your manager also brought along the good news that Harry had actually listened to your album and loved it, “He said ‘Congratulations’ by the way, loved the sound. Said he’d heard you were very music focused and be open to do some mentoring on songwriting and vocal specifics, if you wanted. It’d have to be in private though, obviously.” She had added the last bit, but you understood why. To have the opportunity to discuss your music with one of your longtime role models, heroes even, was beyond anything you could have imagined coming from your album’s success. And it made the drama all the more palatable because now you at least got to talk to Harry like the media was so adamantly saying you were doing already.

You nodded quickly and agreed, while trying to keep your teenage fangirl excitement hidden below your mature now-famous musician facade. Like you said, Harry was your hero, he’d been your hero since you were in middle school and had Up All Night downloaded on your iPod touch, blasting it as loud as possible, sound hitting your poster-filled walls. You weren’t the same girl as you were then, obviously, you had grown up to be a strong, independent, and confident woman. But, you still smiled at the thought of your younger self with your baby face squealing in the nosebleeds at the Take Me Home Tour (where you swore Harry had looked straight at you) and her seeing you now, dressed in a sleek outfit setting up an appointment to meet with Harry to discuss your first album, a success.

The next Thursday evening

You took a deep breath, in through your nose and out through your pursed lips. You were anxious and excited at the exact same time. Your meeting with Harry was tonight, right now actually, and you hadn’t been able to think about much else since your manager had confirmed the meeting last week. She got you the details a couple of days ago, the location: his house in Malibu, the time: 5:45 P.M. You had brought along a copy of your album on vinyl because you thought it sounded best this way, second only to performing it live.

Choosing your outfit for tonight was probably the toughest decision you’d ever made, harder than choosing between an education and following your dreams, harder than choosing your favorite Beatles song. You didn’t want to worry so much, this wasn’t a date you kept reminding yourself, but everything you tried on earlier kept having something wrong with it, too dressy, too boring, too ‘not yourself’. You had settled for these blue high-waisted pants that you’d worn to your first ever podcast interview, a thin black long sleeve, and a brown leather coat that fell below your hips with vans sneakers, casual, simple, yet still true to you and your vibe.

You raised your free arm and formed a fist, hesitant to knock, as if you’d damage Harry’s seemingly perfect Malibu beachfront home by knocking too hard on the wooden front door. You waited a few moments and could here some shuffling behind the door, some incoherent words were seemingly said, but the walls muffled them before they could reach for ears. Soon enough, Harry Styles in the flesh was before you. He beamed down at you, huffing, slightly out of breath as if he had been clear across the house when you knocked. His strong figure towered above your far smaller stature. He was hanging onto the door since he had opened it only slightly. “Hello, Y/N?” he greeted and questioned simultaneously. “Hi,” you responded and extended the same hand that had just rapped against his now open door. He gripped it, ushering you into his home, “Come in, come in, it’s nice to meet you, don’t want you to catch a cold now do we?” He took note of your strong handshake and ring clad fingers.

He walked you into an area between the kitchen and a sitting area. The kitchen was open aside from a bar high top between the two rooms. You sat down at his prompting and made yourself comfortable. “I brought my record on vinyl, sounds best in my opinion, otherwise I’d recommend seeing it live,” you laughed as you handed the vinyl to him and took off your coat. “Technically, y’know, I could hear it live right now, if you were willin’ f’course,” Harry had responded over his shoulder as he placed the vinyl by his idle record player, “Anything to drink?” “Just water for me, please.” His accent was even stronger in person, especially since he had moved back to London and seldomly stayed in California, except for business and quick trips. As far as you knew, he had already been here on business for the week and was able to pencil you in.

You two settled in, with your waters, seated at the bar top beside each other, but swivelling the chairs to face one another more. Again, you were overwhelmed with the reality of the situation, sitting beside Harry Styles as professionals, peers even. He had heard your work and liked it enough to want to discuss it with you. It was a day you never thought would come to pass. He started off not by asking about the music right away, but about how you were doing with the whirlwind that stardom is. “How are you, Y/N? It’s been somewhat of a out of the frying pan into the fire kind of moment for you?” He stared at you intently, caring to hear your answer.

You couldn’t help but chuckle again and contain your smile, “Thank you for asking, Harry. Yeah, its been definitely stressful, but it’s everything I’ve ever wanted and more so the good is still outweighing any bad. Definitely, fucking exhausted though, dunno how many more interviews I can do before my jaw goes completely rigid from talking so much.” It’s Harry’s turn to laugh, his eyes shone with intrigue at what you said and how you said it. You were gorgeous, but it was how your hands helped you through what you were trying to say and the small laughs you tried to keep in while you amused yourself with your words that really made him want to hear you talk all night long.

He agreed about how the promo junket for an album can get tedious and tiresome, but also the absolute fulfillment you get from people loving the music you’ve made. The two of you chatted about surface level personal matters for a little more, but quickly moved to the music. “I took a listen a couple weeks after the album was released. I especially loved the last track. It reminded me so much of a song I never released, actually…” he trailed off.

Your final track had been a ballad, an homage to George Harrison with your use of guitar and sitar, but the lyrics were a story based off of a poem you had written one night in high school. It surrounded a girl never feeling quite good enough for the person she wanted to be with and how it happened everytime, everytime she was ready to giver herself to someone, they were always closed off. Of course it held some truth to your own life and feelings, but you wrote this girl as someone with a seemingly perfect life - when yours was obviously far from any semblance of perfection.

You wondered what Harry’s song would have sounded like, had it been about a seemingly perfect girl or a guy with a seemingly perfect life, always giving himself to the wrong person and getting destroyed by that very fact because he was impatient as the girl in your song had been. “Can I ask, how so? How’d it remind you of your own song, the words or the music?” “Oh, the story, I felt like that for a time in my life and I like to be vulnerable in my songs because it helps me process, but listening to it back has always been too painful. Could never release that or perform it, it’d wreck me.” You nodded, you completely got where he was coming from. You noticed his downcast eyes and his somber tone, you knew not to push it any further.

It was quiet and you decided it’d be okay to take his hand resting between the two of you. “Harry, I understand,” your sincerity spilled into the words, filling the quiet house, “It’s not easy. Feeling that way. Thinking you’re the only goddamn one and why the fuck does it always happen to you? I used to ask my ceiling ‘why me?’ every night of high school” you smiled then. “But you know how it is,” you rubbed your thumb over his large warm hand and he lifted his head, “it gets so much better - c’mon look at us now! It can get hard, too, all this, I’m sure. But our lives? They’re amazing!” He beamed as he had when he had first seen you at his door and when you’d first really spoke. He moved his hand from under your palm to weave your fingers with his, both of your hands with covered in rings and they clinked to fit together, finally resting perfectly fitted. He shook your two hands up and down, “God, you’re so right! That damn song, m’sorry always puts me in a mood,” he shakes his head, “not yours though, f’course, s’lovely, better than my sodding song” he finishes quickly.

After that, the mood lightened right back up. It filled you with such appreciation for Harry that he would trust you so much with such a personal detail since you two had just met. But maybe, he had trusted you because he had felt that same spark between you. It wasn’t necessarily a romantic spark, but it was obvious the two of you were kindred spirits. Besides your album, the two of you talked about everything. You loved the same bands, movies and books, you both loved to cook and had similar fashion taste, you even had the same person type - something you found out late into the night.

At the end of the Side B of your album, Harry switched to a Bill Evans record that had ‘Peace Piece’ on it. You loved that song. So did he. “So...planning to raid my closet?” Harry raised his brows from the record player and walked back to you. You almost sputtered the water in your mouth. Luckily, you got it down. “Pardon?” “All that bad press the two of us have been getting...I watched the interview that kind of ignited the tabloids. You’re obviously not used to those overstepping personal questions.” You nodded. “It’s fine, even if you’d completely shut it down, the tabloids probably would have picked it up still, they snap up anything and everything, true or not.” You softened at his reassurance. You hadn’t expected Harry to bring the interview up, but you were sure he wasn’t happy about it, he was so private, especially about his love life. “Thanks, I’m sorry I tried to laugh it off, kind of made it worse, didn’t I?” “No! Thought it was hilarious and I totally appreciated the sentiment. Little ol’me, an icon? And an amazing artist? All I gotta do is watch that clip and I’ve fed my narcissistic side for the week!” You giggled and replied slyly, “So does that mean I can raid your closet? As compensation, of course.” Harry threw his head back in an all consuming laughter, when he’d composed himself he looked in your eyes again and said, “You just...God, you get me.”

Harry had continued to put records on throughout the night, diligently flipping sides and asking for requests, he of course had an extensive collection. The two of you had moved onto his plush couch that looked out his french doors to the beautiful ocean view. Finally, your exhaustion caught up to you, mid-Harry describing his latest travel fiasco, you glanced up at the clock. You gasped. Harry stopped. “When did it get to be half 12?” you questioned almost incredulously, “I’ve gotta get home, Harry, but this has been truly amazing, more than I could have asked for, so thank you.” Your speech began to rush as you started to get up and gather your things, that had slowly scattered as you’d gotten more comfortable, jacket by the table, shoes around the back of the couch, your phone forgotten somewhere in the couch. You couldn’t believe you’d spent almost seven hours just talking with Harry Styles.

Harry quickly stood up from his relaxed positioned on the couch and asked if you were alright to drive this late. You scoffed, “Oh please, I’ve driven around at 3 am before, I just have to turn up the music and I can cruise.” He smiled, “This was great, Y/N, I know we didn’t really go super in depth into your writing process, but I’d love to write with you sometime or just hang out again f’course. Your seriously talented and obviously a wonderful person.” He didn’t include that he felt like he’d never met anyone like you, never met someone so perfectly matched to himself, in passions but also in work ethic and demeanor - compassionate yet confident. He felt like you got him perfectly and he got you. You had stopped your scramble to gather yourself and now you were both smiling at one another.

This had really been an unforgettable night, you couldn’t believe how well you two had meshed, like childhood friends reconnecting after years apart. “Can I give yeh a hug before you go?” Harry’s voice had grown raspier as the night had progressed. He had grown rather tired an hour ago, but had pushed through because they had been having so much fun and you hadn’t noticed his physical fading or the time, obviously. You stepped toward him and his large tattooed arms enveloped you into his body. His body truly dwarfed yours now as he held you to his chest. You both were warm and soft. He tucked his head on top of yours that rested on his chest. Your arms were loosely resting where his back met his waist because you would have had to strain to get them to encircle him. His arms rested around your small frame. “Love your jacket,” he mumbled into your hair. His rough voice was quiet, but the house was silent otherwise, Tusk Side C had finished around when you had noticed the time. The embrace lasted long, but it felt so amazing you had a hard time pulling yourself away, but you had to get back home.

“G’night Harry” you said softly at the threshold of his home. He had insisted on walking you to the front door at least, since you had declined his offer to walk you out to your car on the street. “G’night. Safe travels.”

You got in your car and headed to your apartment in the city. You didn’t bother digging for your phone so you turned on the radio and drove home singing whatever came on, including your own song at one point. The whole time you drove with a grin. Harry was the nicest person you’d ever met and you were confident that the two of you were friends now. As you pulled into your parking garage it dawned on you why you hadn’t connected your phone immediately when you got in your car. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” you put the car in park and rested your palms in the depressions of your eyesockets, over your closed eyelids, and rubbed hard. “Fuck!” It was far too late to drive back out to Malibu for your phone and you obviously couldn’t text Harry that you’d left your phone at his place, despite the two of you exchanging numbers during the night for future hang outs, so they didn’t have to be arranged through your managers, like playdates. Even if he found your phone between the cushions, he couldn’t drop it at your place in the morning because he didn’t know your address. This was a whole mess, you thought. You’d have to drive over in the morning and hope he was still there or email your manager from your computer. The former meant you got to see Harry sooner and likely your phone, too.

part 2

@berrynarrybanana

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #har #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fan fic #I DID IT #I sat down and wrote it #and it took forever #and I need to write a second part but I made something coherent #one direction fanfiction #not my gifs #my writing #I love you h #you get me #my writings

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harvestdew · 3 years

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Yo sorry if this question takes a while to awnser, but if Cleo and Kiki were NPCs what do you think thief heart events will be like? If you don't want to awnser this that's fine, I'm just curious.

no problem! i actually need a break from my essay anyway i wrote 4 pages and it took me 5 hours/made me stressed, so this is a good way to decompress for me!

kiki’s 2 heart event - standard, boring 2 heart event... enter pelican town on a sunny day anywhere from 9am to 4pm. you see kiki on her way out of pierre’s and her grocery bag breaks. you have 4 options:

ask “are you okay?” and help her (+30 friendship). kiki is embarrassed someone saw her, but says “thank you so much for helping me! that was pretty funny, wasn’t it? i guess i bought too much”

“i didn’t see anything” (no effect on friendship). kiki just laughs it off

ignore her/do nothing (no effect on friendship). kiki goes “...” before telling herself she’s so clumsy and running off

“wow, that was dumb of you.” (-50 friendship) kiki, trying to remain deadpan, responds “yeah, you’re right”

kiki’s 4 heart event - (similar to leah’s 4 heart event) enter kiki’s house when she’s there. for some reason, she doesn’t notice you entered and you hear someone else talking unintelligibly on the landline, but she isn’t responding. after a while, she hangs up without saying anything, notices you, and jumps, asking “have you been here the whole time?” you have 3 options:

lie and say “i just got here” (no effect on friendship). kiki sighs and says “oh, okay. that’s good”

"who was that?” (no effect on friendship). kiki goes “...” and tells you it was just an annoying telemarketer. then she asks if she can help you with anything

"are you okay?” (+20 friendship). kiki tells you she just got an unwanted call from someone she doesn’t want to talk to but doesn’t elaborate. she mentions being worried someone’s going to come over, then realizes you’re still there and laughs it off as a joke, trying to cover it up with a random fact about tulips

kiki’s 6 heart event - (similar to haley’s 6 heart event) enter the cindersap forest from 5pm to 9pm while it’s raining. kiki spots you (“!”) and asks for help, explaining her cat (ghost) ran away because she didn’t properly lock her door and the storm blew it open (this literally happened to me and my cat didn’t come home for 3 days LOL). she explains how important her cat is to her. you have 2 options:

"i’ll help you find him!” (+30 friendship)

“just get another cat?” (-30 friendship)

either way, you can walk around the cindersap forest and click on a bunch of shrubs. the cat will come out of one of them and you bring it back to her. kiki hugs you and says she felt too guilty to ask anyone else for help. she also points out because it was raining you should go back inside before you get sick, so she offers to walk you home

also: fun fact the farmer replaces sebastian in here because this was something i wrote for him, but it feels like a good 6 heart one imo

kiki’s 8 heart event - done here!

kiki’s 10 heart event - (similar to emily and maru’s) you get a letter in the mail from kiki that says something along the lines “come by the forest tonight!” if you enter the cindersap forest from anytime between 7pm to 11pm ONLY during the summer you’ll trigger the event. it turns out she wanted to look at constellations with you and borrowed maru’s telescope. kiki starts talking about how she was figuring out how to make up for you finding her cat but didn’t want to do anything boring. you only have 1 option:

"wait, is this a date?” (no effect on friendship)

kiki gets MEGA embarrassed, explaining she thought it was obvious but isn’t going to be mad if you don’t like her. you now have 3 options:

"wait, i do like you!” (no effect on friendship). kiki goes, “seriously? you mean it? i’m so happy!” and you resume the date. before the cutscene ends, she has you look at some stars and explains the story of altair & vega which originated in china (“have you heard about the story of altair and vega? it’s about a cowherd and a weaver girl who fell in love but were separated by a river which is supposed to be the milky way. it’s sad, but once a year a bunch of magpies form a bridge and they reunite. romantic, right?”)

“i’m sorry, i don’t like you” (no effect on friendship). kiki tells you she understands, explaining you’re just as good of a friend and will be fine

“ew” (-30 on friendship). kiki sighs and tells her she better return maru’s telescope

as for cleo i have no idea if cleo would be a marriageable npc... we’ll see. let’s get to her heart events though (excluding her 10 heart event)

cleo’s 2 heart event - enter cleo’s room whenever she’s in there. cleo asks why you didn’t knock out of annoyance, but gets over it to complain she smells like fish (because she’s a fisherwoman LOL). you have 2 options:

“if you hate the smell of fish so much, why are you a fisherman?” (no effect on friendship). cleo explains she picks up fishing because that’s the 1 condition kiki has if she wants to stay with her free of rent. she complains about her cousin for trying to teach her some work ethic, then goes on to say she can’t wait til she and whatever sam’s band is called gets famous and she can stop fishing

“not my problem” (-30 friendship). cleo gets irritated and tells you “look, i didn’t ask to be a fisherwoman, okay? i hate farming and mining doesn’t make that much money. why are you even in here?”

cleo’s 4 heart event - enter pelican town any time during the day when it’s sunny. you overhear haley berating cleo with a magazine (even though they’re friends), who asks why she never mentioned she modeled. cleo gets annoyed and tells haley to back off because she doesn’t want to talk about it. you have 2 options:

do absolutely nothing (-30 friendship). haley finally walks off; cleo looks at you and goes, “what are you looking at? don’t listen to stuff that isn’t any of your business”

tell haley to stop (+30 friendship). haley sighs and apologizes to cleo for being nosey and leaves. cleo awkwardly thanks you and says something offhand like “i guess you’re cool” before running off

make up an excuse to pull cleo aside like “cleo, i don’t get how to use my fishing rod, can you help?” (+50 friendship). cleo thanks you for not making a huge scene and sighs. she explains haley figured out how used to be a model and wouldn’t stop asking why she quit. she also mentions she knows you probably want to know and claims it’s just “stupid personal garbage” and “the modeling industry is shit”

cleo’s 6 heart event - enter cleo’s room whenever she’s in there again. you find her mumbling to herself out of annoyance before she notices you and greets you. then, she explains she just figured out that everyone in her old band seems to be doing really well and she’s worried they’re going to get a gig for the band SHE started. you have 2 options:

ask “what band?” (no effect on friendship). cleo explains her mom wouldn’t let her go to a gig for the band to punish her, leaving them without a bassist. she says when she snuck out to go, the lead guitarist had immediately replaced her and decided to kick her out of the band, which is why cleo ran away out of humiliation. plus, she thinks their new music sounds like shit

“who cares? you don’t need them!” (+30 friendship). cleo goes silent before telling you you’re SO right and tells you that good-for-nothing guitarist that kicked her out wasn’t even that good of a guitarist!

“maybe you were a bad bassist” (-50 friendship). cleo gets defensive and tells she was a perfectly good bassist. then she sighs and says she wonders if she’s not as good as she thinks she is and should just stick to fishing, before telling you to get out

cleo’s 8 heart event - (similar to sam’s 8 heart event) cleo shows up to your door when you wake up and gives you a flyer for a battle of the bands in zuzu city. the next day, you go to the venue with cleo and she realizes she’s going up against her old band before freaking out. she tells you she doesn’t know what to do because she’s scared she’ll mess up and prove them right. you have 3 options:

"you can do this!” (+50 friendship). cleo tells you that’s cheesy but you’re right. she goes on to say “screw all of them! i don’t care!”

“who cares? show them what they’re missing!” (+50 friendship). cleo gets pumped and agrees with you before saying, “ugh, what was i thinking? i don’t care what any of them think”

"don’t be a baby” (no effect on friendship). cleo goes “ugh” before begrudgingly admitting you’re right

either way, you get to hear them play like in sam’s 8 heart event. it should correspond with whatever music genre you chose for him in his own events. sam’s band also wins and cleo makes fun of her old band. the lead guitarist gets annoyed and tries to fight with her over it. you have 2 options:

“get him cleo!” (no effect on friendship). cleo punches the lead guitarist off the screen the way pierre punches morris at the community center

“ignore him, he’s just a loser” (no effect on friendship). cleo says she guesses taking the higher road is better and doesn’t wanna mess up her hands

regardless of what option you pick, at the end of the cutscene, cleo thanks your farmer for encouraging her not to giving up and how she couldn't have done it w/o your help

okay that’s it! i’m sorry for taking so long to write this, but i hope it was interesting and i promise really appreciate the ask <3 it was fun to write

#answered #mine

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marshmallow-phd · 3 years

Text

Scarlet Moon

Genre: Scarlet Heart Ryeo!AU, Time Travel!AU, Alternate History, Royalty!AU

Pairing: OC x EXO OT9

Summary: This isn’t Gwen’s time. She was from the modern era, with technology and electricity. But during a solar eclipse, she’s transported back into a previous life in a time and place she does not know. Now, as the foreign daughter of a merchant living in a prince’s household, she must tread carefully, watch her back, and guard her heart. But with the princes locked in a battle over the throne, the chances of her making it out alive might disappear.

Part: 1 I 2 I 3

********

The paper sliced across the skin before any action could be taken to avoid it. A high pitched hiss followed by a short whine. The flap of skin that had been separated was being dyed red.

Gwen stuck her index finger in her mouth to sooth the stinging. It helped a little bit. Still sucking on the appendage, Gwen stumbled over to the supply closet and opened the thin metal doors with the other hand. She kept this feat up as she opened the first aid kit and pushed around the different types of bandages, trying to decide which one to use. The cut was right on the tip, right where you never want it to be. It was hard to get a band aid on that kind of cut. Eventually, she found a smaller version of a standard design and ripped the paper covering opening. She wrapped the band aid around her index finger before heading for her desk. It was back to the files that had injured her in the first place.

The pile was tall; by her standards, at least. Gwen had been dealing with it for the past hour. The dates on the files needed sorting, separating the ones could be sent to long-term storage. She almost gave out another whine, but she didn’t want the others to hear and start the relentless teasing. Her coworkers were quick and very witty.

It was a friendly floor. Everyone joked and played around without the fear of feelings being hurt. If Gwen didn’t have to do the actual work that came with the office space, she wouldn’t mind staying here forever. But dealing with these files and demanding customers and meeting quotas was not what she wanted to do for the rest of her life. Not that Gwen knew exactly what it was that she did want to do. She’d tried a lot of things over the last few years in her slow going college years. Marketing, history, education - hell, she even took several makeup courses and skincare lessons that focused on natural resources. None of it stuck, none of it held her interest, though the information could be recalled if needed.

“You alright there, Gwen?”

Drudging up from the bowels of her thoughts, Gwen looked up at Kimberly, who had stopped at her desk on the way back from the printer.

“Yeah,” Gwen nodded with a sigh. “Just… ready for the week to be over.”

“Ain’t that the consensus,” Kimberly laughed.

“How are the dogs?” Gwen was seizing the opportunity to distract herself from work. Kimberly owned two dogs with opposite personalities. One was the well-mannered older brother, the other was the skittish, hyper younger brother. She loved to talk about them and there was never a shortage of entertaining stories.

Kimberly rolled her eyes. “Kurt is back to back to demanding his breakfast at five a.m. Oh, but Kent now does this thing where he walks backwards. Whenever he starts doing that, we’ll beep at him. You know, like the garbage trucks? Then he gets all shy and hides his head.”

Gwen couldn’t stop giggling at the thought. “Oh, the poor thing!”

“You’ll have to see it next time you come over.”

“I can’t wait.”

As Kimberly walked away, Gwen sighed. She didn’t get out too much and the humor that most of her socializing outside of work was with one of her coworkers wasn’t lost on her. Just another dart to throw at the board that was Gwen Sinclair.

It wasn’t like her life was a complete disaster. Really, it could have been worse. She could imagine a thousand different scenarios that she could be living right now that were worse off then her current situation. Truthfully, if glanced at from the outside, Gwen’s life was simply... mediocre. She was blessed with tolerable roommates, an okay job that provided a nice paycheck for a twenty-three-year-old who had yet to finish college. But… the loneliness was killing her and overall, she was craving for something more.

She was exhausted from obligation and responsibility. She wished to go back to the days where she read about adventure and intrigue and imagined some day living that out herself. After having those words in her hands, she felt empty in her reality. Somehow, each day felt even more draining.

With the end of another workday, Gwen packed up the files that still needed to be sorted, locked up her cabinets and tugged on her coat as she waved goodbye to Kimberly and the others. A few other coworkers were chatting excitedly about the solar eclipse happening in a few minutes. Gwen, however, was annoyed. Annoyed at the fact that all anyone - online or in person - could talk about was the solar eclipse, as if it was the only one that had ever been seen in this generation. When one person mentioned the eclipse, it was fine. When it was every post and every comment and every conversation, it felt a little ridiculous. Gwen couldn’t care less about the event. Getting home was her current priority. But escaping wasn’t that easy.

For the millionth time, Gwen rolled her eyes as she scrolled through the newsfeed, waiting for her car to warm up in the parking garage. The weather was cold and dreary, slowing down her progress on getting home. Puffs of steam escaped her lips in the below freezing temperature. Other employees hurried past the back of her car to get to their own tiny sanctuaries. An alert for a new email popped up at the top of the phone screen. From the quick scan of the notification, she saw that it was from her eastern history professor. He wanted to go over the latest paper from class. Oh, no. That was never a good sign.

Gwen huffed, threw her car into reverse, and pulled out of the parking space. First the papercut, now this.

Since all her classes were online, Gwen had the minor luxury to not be forced to talk to her professor face to face, which surely would have been humiliating. But it couldn’t be avoided completely. She’d email him back once she arrived home. Or maybe she’d put it off until tomorrow. Dealing with this was the last thing she wanted to do. Stress was already causing her skin to revert back to puberty, she didn’t need this as well.

Her phone rang and she struggled to answer it while carefully winding down the levels of the garage. It was Jaynie, the favorite of the roommates.

“Hey, Janie, what’s up?”

“Oh, nothing, I was just wondering if you were coming straight home today.”

Gwen smirked, knowing exactly where this was going.

Over the past several months, a bit of an obsession had developed with Korean dramas. The shows the two of them consumed were different from the same old, boring American television and there were years worth of stories to choose from. Currently, they were in the middle of another romantic comedy. While Gwen loved the storyline and was in a constant state of swoon, as soon as the credits started rolling, she was reminded how pathetically uninteresting her life was. But those sixty plus minutes of pure escapism made it all worth the crash that came afterwards.

Gwen tried to wait patiently in the line to leave the parking garage, but her frustration was getting the better of her. It was stop and go, stop and go, stop and go.

“I’m planning on it. That is, if people decide any day now to not drive idiotically.”

“Ugh, I had the same problem on my way home.”

Curious. Both of them worked in the downtown area. “How did you get home so fast?” Gwen asked.

“I got off a little early today.”

“Lucky.” Her accounting job often led to flexible hours. Gwen was jealous of that level of freedom.

The road was slick from the freezing rain. Weather like this brought out all the stupid drivers as if this wasn’t a yearly occurrence. She was careful to look both ways before exiting the garage and inching into the street. What she didn’t account for was the other emptying lot across the street. A large black SUV pulled out right at the same time, but went too fast, hitting the water that was slowly turning to ice on the asphalt.

With no time to react, the SUV slammed into the side of Gwen’s compact car. Glass from the driver’s side window shattered and sprayed her face. Her phone flew out of her hand. The crunch of metal hit her ears before she could fully process what had happened. With the force of the collision, her forehead slammed against the steering wheel before the airbag deployed. The sound of screams echoed around her, but the words were unintelligible. Slumped over in her seat, a shadow creeped over the scene. Through the slits of her barely open eyes, Gwen watched as the sun disappeared behind the moon. Then all went black.

********

The water was what brought her back. It filled her lungs and surrounded her on all sides. She flailed her limbs, desperate for traction that couldn’t be found. Her clothing weighed her down, the hems being pulled as if hands had gripped tight on them. She needed a miracle. And a miracle she got. Two hands held onto one of her wrists and pulled her to the surface.

She gasped for air as her rescuer struggled to bring her to shore. The cloth that covered her felt as if it weighed a hundred pounds, making it nearly impossible to move. Water made its way up her throat, spilling over her lips. Her lungs were finally clear. They took in as much oxygen as they were allowed, burning with each brath.

“Lady Gwen! Lady Gwen!”

A young girl blocked out the bright sun. She shook Gwen’s shoulders desperately.

Gwen’s brain processed that the girl was not speaking English, but… she could understand her. The girl’s damp, dark hair was pulled into halves on either side of her face held in place by wide red straps. She looked at Gwen with deep concern, like a lifelong friend. But Gwen was sure she had never seen this girl before in her life.

“My Lady, can you hear me?” she asked frantically.

“Who are you?” Gwen finally choked out.

That made the girl pause in her panic. “What?”

Slowly regaining her strength, Gwen pushed herself up to her knees. As her eyesight cleared, she took in her surroundings. Gone were the tall metal and glass buildings, traffic lights, and speeding cars of her modern home. Now all that surrounded her were trees and a sandy beach of a large, calm lake. In the distance, wooden houses with curved rooftops, painted in bright reds and greens dotted the horizon. The heaviness that weighed her down was a dress made of too many layers and of no western fashion that she’d ever experienced before.

Whispers bounced around the rocky shore. All the faces that were looking on with concern around were unfamiliar. Gwen grabbed the hair cascading down her back, but it was still the red she knew, darker from the dampness of being pulled out of the water but still her hair.

“Where am I?” she asked in a quiet, gasping voice.

“My Lady, don’t you remember?” The girl panicked. “You’re in Songak. Goryeo.”

“Goryeo?” Gwen screeched. All the minor details she could summon up of the country came rushing to the forefront of her mind. It was information overload and her brain couldn’t handle it. Her lungs tried desperately to keep up, breathing in as much air as they could, but her throat was closing up from the panic. The landscape blurred and she fell to the ground.

�� ********

She was in a bed this time when she regained consciousness. The room was cold and dimly lit with soft, orange candlelight. A man, Caucasian unlike the others, sat beside the bed on a stool, worry etched into every facet of his face.

“Gwen, sweet, are you all right?”

English. He was speaking English. But that was a footnote of comfort to the bigger problem. She still didn’t know what had happened to her or how she got here or who these people were that seemed to know her. The man, who was about in his mid-forties with salt and pepper hair, smiled down at her, though his eyes were confused. “Gwen, does it hurt anywhere? Can you tell me if you hit your head?”

Gwen took a moment, to calm down and to evaluate what she was feeling physically. Her head didn’t hurt, nor did any other part of her body. Wordlessly, she shook her head. The man seemed relieved.

“Are you all right?” He asked again, a different meaning under the question this time. “Chae Ryung said you couldn’t remember her or that we were in Goryeo? Do you at least remember your papa?”

Gwen weighed the choices in her mind. There wasn’t a mirror around, but she started to wonder if she had taken the place of someone else. Someone who knew these strangers. She could say that she didn’t know any of them - the truth - but would they think her mad if she spilled too much? Perhaps she could say she remembered a few things. Like him, if he is this poor girl’s father. Why am I here? In this time?

Choosing to comprise with herself, she gave the smallest of nods. “Papa.” Sitting up, she pulled him into a hug and there was something comforting about his embrace. This body remembered him, at least.

“What happened?” she asked after she let go.

“Chae Ryung said that you’d wandered off again and she found you, you’d been the water a long time.” The man, Papa, sucked in a breath, his eyes beginning to water. His genuine concern over her wellbeing made Gwen choke up as well. “The doctor said you stopped breathing. That could explain your lost memories.”

Good. The excuse was already in her hands. That should make it easy enough to play along while being forgiven for any missteps. But they shouldn’t be in Goryeo. That didn’t make any sense, historically. If anything, they might have been in Joseon – late Joseon. Was this some sort of alternate timeline? Or maybe she hit her head really hard in the car crash and this is really all a dream from the stress of her paper and too much K-drama.

Yes. Too much K-drama.

That had to be the explanation. This was all a strange dream. Which meant, she could play along and not be afraid. She could ask questions and live out the day until she woke back up in her own time, most likely in a hospital with a bandage on her head and her mother fretting over her.

She glanced around the room, taking in the architecture that she had only ever seen in pictures. In person, it was even more stunning and intricate. This wasn’t an ordinary citizen’s home. Interesting. What else could her brain come up with? “Why are we in Goryeo?”

“Your father’s a merchant, remember?” He spoke slowly. Each word was deliberate, giving Gwen time to process. Good filler for her mind. “I made a large fortune here and planned on taking you back home, but… your mother is buried here. We couldn’t leave her behind.”

A wave of emotion hit out of nowhere. Though her mother was alive and well, it didn’t stop a tear from escaping. “Mama.”

Papa wiped it away with a coarse finger. Gwen gasped back, surprised by the realness of the touch. Her dreams were never this intricate. The blanket strone across her lap scrunched in her fingers. It was cold and soft… and very real.

She wasn't dreaming, was she?

Confused by her reaction, Papa paused for a moment before continuing his explanation. “The eighth prince is graciously letting us stay with him while we wait on the construction of our home to be complete.”

The eighth prince?

Panic grew tenfold. If this wasn’t a dream, then she was in very big trouble. If history told her one thing, it was that proximity to royalty was the most dangerous place to be. Gwen might possibly have been able to skate by if they were simply staying in some unknown village far from the capital, but they were in a prince’s home. Which meant they were in… Songak, the capital city, just like that girl – Chae Ryung – had said. Right under the King’s nose. Breathing became difficult again. Each one was shallow, barely letting in any oxygen. Gwen could feel her chest tighten and her vision blurred.

“Gwen!” Papa jumped up and tried to keep her straight to give her lungs as much room as possible. He switched to Korean as he called out over his shoulder, “Someone, get the doctor! Now!” Shuffling sounds echoed off the floor on the other side of the sliding door and then faded away.

A minute later, breathing no better, two men and a woman rushed inside along with Chae Ryung. The older man stepped in front of Papa and took his place. He pushed Gwen’s shoulders gently until she was lying down. Two cold fingers against her wrist checked her pulse. The other, much younger man stepped up to Papa.

“What happened?”

Papa frowned. “It seems she’s lost some of her memories. I was explaining why we were here when suddenly she had trouble breathing.” He stopped, struggling with his own breath. “I’m sorry we’ve become a burden to you, Your Highness.”

Gwen’s breathing was regaining strength and she was able to concentrate on the conversation. So that was the eighth prince. He was younger than she would have guessed, handsome even, if she had to focus on something other than her lack of breath.

“Do not think such a thing,” the Eighth Prince replied. “Your presence has greatly improved the household. Lady Gwen will get better with time.”

Papa bowed, obviously grateful at the response. He turned to the woman. “Lady Hae, may I enquire after your own health?”

“Today is a better day,” she smiled, though her pale, drained complexion said otherwise. “Please, don’t worry about me. Keep your thoughts for your daughter.”

The doctor released Gwen’s wrist, satisfied with the improvement of her pulse and breathing. He stood up.

“It was a mild panic attack,” the doctor said calmly to Papa. “If it happens again, she should lie down and focus on her breathing. The incident at the lake seems to have taken a toll on her body. She simply needs rest. In time, her memories and her body will recover.”

Gwen didn’t agree with that statement fully. This body might get better in time, but there was no way memories that didn’t exist would ever return. One by one, the occupants left the room until it was only Gwen and Papa remaining behind. Silence hung in the air. After a moment, Papa sat down on the stool and took Gwen’s hand.

“I was worried I had lost you,” he whispered.

Gwen’s eyes fell down to the blanket covering her legs. Things were becoming clearer to her now. This was not a dream and she was no longer Gwen Sinclair from the twenty-first century. Something must have happened. She didn’t know what exactly had occurred or what would happen now, but she was here. And little did this man – known only to her as “Papa” – know that he had indeed lost his daughter. The face may be the same, but the Gwen inside was different. She would try her best to be good to him, at least until she found a way to get back to her own family. She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

********

The next morning, the doctor, along with the Eighth Prince, came back to check on Gwen. The doctor commented that her pulse was stronger and that she seemed well on the road to full health. However, he still insisted on keeping her on bedrest.

Bored with these same walls and too curious about her temporary home, Gwen sat up. If she was going to be here for a while, she might as well get to know it. “I’m fine. Please, don’t make me stay in here all day. The sun and air is good for you, isn’t it?”

The sudden rebelliousness against the doctor’s suggestion did not seem to sit well with any of them. Gwen gave Papa a pleading look. A father couldn’t resist those eyes. He sighed, turning to the doctor. “Perhaps, a little exercise in walking around the grounds would be all right?”

The doctor looked reluctant, but he agreed. “But she shouldn’t overexert herself.”

“Chae Ryung will stay with her,” the Eighth prince ordered. “If you’ll please excuse me, I must meet with my brothers.” He bowed and left, followed by the doctor.

Having heard her name from the hallway, Chae Ryung shuffled quickly inside and over to Gwen, holding out her arms for the latter to balance on as she slid off of the bed. “Are you sure you want to go outside?”

Gwen nodded. “Yes. Perhaps seeing more of this place will help jog my memory.”

Chae Ryung tilted her head. “How can your memory jog?”

Gwen snorted, both at Chae Ryung’s confusion and at herself for the slip of the modern phrase. “Sorry, I just meant, maybe my memories will come back.”

“Oh.” The look on her face was enough to make Gwen laugh again.

Gwen scolded herself internally. She had to be more careful with her words. Every step was one on thin ice. She couldn’t change who she was, not completely, but she would have to pull back. Chae Ryung, however, felt safe, like a shelter from the rain. With her, Gwen could find answers that might be dangerous to seek elsewhere. Straightening her shoulders, Gwen smiled broadly and took her newest friend’s hand. Chase Ryung grinned brightly at her and guided her out of the room.

#exo royalty au #exo royalty!au #scarlet heart au #scarlet heart ryeo #exo time travel au #exo time travel!au #exo angst #exo series #exo x oc #exo x original character #exo ot9 #Scarlet Moon

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ateezmakemeweep · 4 years

Photo

you’re the one that i want (part 5)

word count: 5k

fluff

(part 4) (series masterlist)

tag list: @chogiout ; @seonghwaslut ; @psshwa ; @yeocult ; @seongghwaa ; @cherryeonii ; @chaoticbanqtan ; @8teenee ; @nczenniez ; @atinyarmyx1 ; @mingtopiaa ; @chubsluda ; @myjiminmychimchim ; @mochibabycakes ; @jisungity ; @skz-on-my-mind ; @nlost21 ; @myonlyaurora ; @closer-stars ; @kuaenam3g ; @byungaji ; @floweryjh ;

when seonghwa doesn't see you down at the beach for the next three days, he can't even pretend not to be worried.

because even if you didn't want to go surfing anymore, he thinks you would have at least been down here at some point. high temperatures and the summer sun was quickly approaching and it seemed as if everyone but you and your aunt were at the beach these days.

"you lookin' for someone?" hongjoong asks, noticing the way seonghwa's eyes have been roaming the beach all day. they had come in from the harsh waves and laid out on their towels and chairs, waiting for jongho and yunho to come down with their food from the diner.

he snaps his head toward hongjoong and away from the other parts of the beach, particularly the parts right in front of your aunt's house, his eyes questioning and jaw slightly tensed.

"what?"

the redhead can only smirk, leaning up on his towel as he looks at his friend. "you lookin' to swim with y/n again?" seonghwa rolls his eyes at the boy, only proving his point further as to why he didn't want them knowing you two had been hanging out.

because after he walked you home a few nights ago, he went back down to the beach and found his three friends still seated around the fire.

"where the fuck were you?" hongjoong asks, his eyes lighting up upon seeing seonghwa but his words slurred and face flushed from all the beers. seonghwa rolls his eyes, pushing the boy over to make room on the blanket.

"told you i was walking."

hongjoong narrows his eyes, him and jongho poking at seonghwa and calling him a liar. they whined over and over for him to tell them what he was really doing, if he was up to something bad or meeting up with a girl.

he huffs and curses lowly at them, moving away to go to yunho who's talking to a few boys from his school.

"hey, you're back," the boy says, seonghwa humming before nodding a hello at the others. and it's not until they're going back to his house, hongjoong under seonghwa's arm and jongho under yunho's, when he starts getting harassed again.

"you gonna tell me where you went?" yunho asks with a smirk, throwing the two drunk boys on a blanket on the floor; he learned the hard way that when they're this shitfaced, there's a high probability of waking up to puke on the couch.

"you my fuckin' mom or something?" seonghwa growls out, going through the fridge to grab a bottle of water. "you want one?" yunho nods his head and catches it with ease, the two boys plopping down on the couch as they turn the tv on.

"you like y/n," the blue haired boy says simply.

seonghwa's upper lip curls in disgust and it'd look convincing to just about anyone but yunho, hongjoong or jongho. they know all too well how good seonghwa is at masking his emotions, pretending to feel something else even though he's softer than he lets on.

"i barely know her."

"but you're getting to know her. you were with her tonight, right?"

seonghwa pops his neck to the side as tension fills him, wondering why the fuck everyone is on his ass about this. what is it there business if he's getting to know anyone? why can't they just ignore him instead of asking question after question like a group of bored, gossiping housewives?

"no. i told you guys i went for a walk."

"five minutes after she did?" yunho asks, smirking because he can feel his friend getting irritated; but apparently seonghwa's forgetting about the torture they put him through last year, when he went on a first date with a girl and the three boys barged into the restaurant and demanded a table next to them.

so excuse him for wanting payback, especially when it's so rare for his friend to show interest in a girl.

"fuck off, i don't like her," seonghwa says, ignoring the way his body rejects that statement. "she's got too much..."

"baggage?" a drunken jongho offers from the floor, the dirty blonde kicking the boy in the ribs roughly. "no, you dick," seonghwa snaps, the blonde groaning as hongjoong laughs at him.

"even if she had baggage, she's pretty. i'd hold those bags."

yunho bites down on his lip and peeks at seonghwa who's staring down at them in disgust, trying not to laugh at just how obvious seonghwa's becoming. but he thinks it’s good, that seonghwa deserves someone like you who will open him up and maybe make him feeling something; even though for now, he’s probably gonna keep denying it.

"i told you i wasn't with her," seonghwa grumbles, kicking sand toward the boy as he sits in his chair. hongjoong dodges it though, turning his body before raising an eyebrow at the boy.

"so you guys just both happened to leave five minutes apart?"

seonghwa only shrugs his shoulders and looks away, knowing that if he tries to say anything more, it's gonna make him seem defensive. he watches the beachgoers and finds himself staring just a bit longer than normal at people who look like you, with similar hair and skin tone that always ends up not looking right.

why hasn't he seen you? and why does he care so much?

"all the tourists are already here, that place was fuckin' packed!" yunho says, carrying takeout bags of burgers and fries while jongho balances the drink tray; seonghwa takes one look at the struggling boy and feels himself sigh heavily.

"why does he have the drinks, he's gonna-" and promptly, the cupholder with four drinks topples over and lands facedown in the sand.

"drop them," seonghwa finishes with a groan, the two other boys snapping their heads to see jongho looking very guilty and shocked. "i was so close, you guys," the youngest boy whines, desperately trying to pick up the spilling drinks and shove them in the holder.

"okay, well we're not gonna drink them now!" hongjoong says.

"and?!" jongho exclaims dramatically. "i'm not a litterbug!"

seonghwa rolls his eyes before taking his food from yunho, watching in half annoyance and half amusement as jongho pushes clean sand over the sticky soda mess.

"perfect!" jongho says, plopping down on the blanket as he takes his sandwich out and unwraps it excitedly. "so did seonghwa finally admit to being with y/n last night?"

the boy in question looks at the blonde with his head cocked to the side, eyes narrowed and jaw clenched before he kicks his foot up and knocks the boy's food right into the sand.

"what. the. fuck!" jongho yelps, looking in devastation at his sandwich buried in the sand before whining seonghwa's name. but he only shrugs his shoulders, giving him a stern, unwavering stare that he only hopes will keep at least one of his friends off his back today.

the four of them make their way back to yunho's after eating and another quick dip in the ocean, currently bickering over the shower order as the blue haired boy watches in amusement.

"okay, but i got this gnarly cut on my back from when i fell, i think that means-"

"that you fucking suck. and don't ever use the word gnarly again."

yunho and seonghwa snort at the two boys, the banter between the older and younger always far too amusing. when they make their way on the sidewalk, they see your aunt taking out the garbage with a mask on her face. her eyes catch the boys as she meets them down at the sidewalk, waving at them and saying something that goes unheard.

"sorry but we can't understand you," yunho chuckles out, touching his face to indicate the mask; the woman smacks her head before lowering the blue fabric. "oh god, i'm sorry. i was asking how the water was today!"

her and yunho chat back and forth for a few moments, attempting to include the other boys in the conversation. seonghwa can't help but notice how happy and bubbly she is, her laugh contagious and smile bright.

"alright i won't keep you boys any longer. i should get back to y/n anyway, poor girl," she says. and the woman must see concern cross the boys faces, or maybe one boy's face in particular, because she begins to talk again. "she'd be the only person to catch a horrific cold when it's almost july."

seonghwa's eyes travel to the upstairs window, grazing the balcony and remembering how that room's light flickered on when he dropped you home the other night. the four of them say goodbye before rushing over to yunho's, hongjoong and jongho fighting to get through the doorway and to the shower on the second floor.

"so she got sick, huh?" yunho hums lowly, a smirk on his face. "happens to a lot of people who swim at night."

"yeah?" seonghwa challenges, narrowing his eyes at the boy before smacking him upside the head. "then there goes your little theory. i'm not sick."

and then just to be a dick, he charges toward yunho's bedroom and locks the ensuite despite the boy's groans of protest. the same groans present three hours later as the four of them walk to tonight's house party.

"maybe if you didn't take so long, we wouldn't be three hours late."

"maybe if you assholes didn't make me shower last at my own house, this wouldn't have happened." yunho side eyes seonghwa who literally wants to be anywhere else tonight, in no mood to mingle or deal with the loud, obnoxiousness of drunk teenagers.

"no one shows up on time anyway," the boy grumbles, rolling his eyes when he hears the music coming from the house; he gives himself two hours before he leaves.

but that was incredibly generous because after just 40 minutes, he is losing his mind. he's been standing in the same corner with the same cold, miserable look on his face, nodding his head when people come up to talk to yunho and hongjoong like they haven't been seeing him for years.

he comes every june, july and august to see visit his mom; or more accurately to house sit. she usually uses her summers off to travel, spending about a week with him before whatever boyfriend she has at the time jets them off to somewhere in europe.

he'd gotten used to the loneliness of his house, choosing to either go to yunho's or find a girl to spend the night with.

but tonight, any girl that eyes him, he shoots a look that screams 'please do not approach me.' because usually he's doing the very opposite at these events, using his obvious piercing eyes and charming smile to lure a girl over and bring her back back to his house so he can get off in her mouth.

but he's just not feeling all that inspired these days, especially not today when he finds that guilt and blame are weighing him down. when a woman's voice who he'd only met a number of times is ringing in his head.

"she'd be the only person to catch a horrific cold when it's almost july."

except it wasn't your fault, it was totally his doing; persuading you to go in the water and splash around for a good hour despite the whipping winds and cold temperature. but it had been fun, probably the most wholesome fun he'd had in a while. you had only ever seemed scared and wary of him when you hung out but he loved how much you laughed that night.

splashed him without a care and squealed when he threw you down in the water. he wasn't used to the feeling in his chest any time it happened, wanting to hear it again and again and be the reason for it.

but that would be crazy. because, as he so pointedly told yunho, he doesn't know you. he knows some things, that you're forgetful but also thoughtful, that there's someone who's avoiding your phone calls that you really wanna hear from, that you flinched away from him and sometimes act like a skittish, abused cat.

and if there's anything he knows about cats, it's that the skittish ones are hard to deal with. you make progress with them day by day, needing to have patience and a basic understanding of what upsets them or what they fear. but then the slightest mishap or mistake could send them reeling back to the state you found them: terrified and extremely jumpy.

but you're not a cat. you're a living, human being and he knows for someone to act like that, they'd need to endure a lot. possibly in a cycle of abuse, of any kind, that has left them scared and suspicious of people.

he's not quite sure why but a part of him wants to learn more about you. learn about what's happened to make you that way and be there for you in a way he needs someone too; because even though he doesn't really know how, he thinks he wants to try.

"seonghwa, we're doing flip cup. you coming?"

yunho saw the boy was spaced out for quite a bit, his back against the wall as he stared blankly ahead of him. he wonders what he was thinking about to be so distracted but figured if he asked, the boy would just lie anyway. the same way he knows he lies when he says he's gonna head home.

"what, are you sure?" yunho asks, "we just got here."

"yeah, no, not feeling it tonight," seonghwa says, nodding his head toward yunho, as jongho and hongjoong are already deep in their flip cup practice.

"beat those idiots. i'll see you tomorrow." yunho smirks and waves at his friend, the slightest suspicion in his bones that he'll be going back in the direction they came from.

and for the most part, yunho was right. but seonghwa did make a quick stop first after calling in a favor to the waitress he gave that $10 tip to.

you couldn't believe that after three days, you still felt like shit. your bones were aching and head was pounding the morning you woke up after night swimming, nearly hitting the floor when you got up to pee.

and you only got worse throughout the day, a 101 fever and chills that kept you huddled under your comforter for days. your aunt would come in, clad in a mask and sometimes even gloves, to give you food and keep you company.

"you don't have to bring my food, i could come down," you insisted. but you both knew that was a lie, if the way you could barely get up to use the bathroom was any indication. and while you were doing better now, you still felt weak and tired and welcomed the salty breeze that blew through the open doors of the balcony.

the fresh air had been nice but it also made you feel like you were missing out.

you hadn't been able to talk to seonghwa or yunho or anyone else for that matter but you found yourself wondering if they even noticed; you and seonghwa never said how long you guys were gonna hang out and surf for so it's not like you were indebted to one another.

but still, you don't like the idea of anyone thinking you forgot about them; it's a feeling you know all too well.

your aunt had gone to bed for the night and you just woke from a poorly timed nap, now past eleven o'clock as you lay in your bed watching a netflix series you just started. you lay there watching, thinking about running a hot bath or shower, when you hear something outside. you pick your head up and listen again, only listening to the familiar sounds of waves in the distance.

but then it happens again a few seconds later and you let out a tiny groan, slowly getting up and walking outside. you welcome the cool air on your hot skin, looking out into the yard before another rock comes up and just misses your foot.

"ow," you say softly, even though the rock didn’t touch you. "what the hell?" and then when you look over, you see no other than a smirking seonghwa standing there with a plastic to go bag in his hand.

"hey."

you stare down in shock, mouth slightly agape as you take in the sight of him just outside your window. what is he doing here? and why is he smiling at like that? and oh, my god you haven't washed your hair or left your bed in days and now he's really here looking as handsome as he usually does.

"hi. what- what are you doing here?" you immediately ask, grasping the side of the barrier keeping you from falling right off.

"brought you something, can i come up?"

"um, well, i’m- i'm sick, i don't want you to-"

but he ignores your words and walks forward, assessing the side of the house like he's trying to figure out his next move. you look over and see his face, shaking your head because the last thing you need is for your aunt's friends to see a boy scaling the side of her house; he could also trip and fall and then a surfing turtle knick knack certainly wouldn’t make up for that.

"you can't climb up! you could fall down and get hurt!"

his neck cranes up and he bites his cheek to not laugh, securing the bag on his wrist before bringing his hand to the white trellis on the side of the house littered with red and pink roses.

"seonghwa!" you whisper-yell, watching him smirk before he brings his hand back down. "you can't just scale the side of her house. i'll come down and-"

you watch him roll his eyes at you carelessly before walking over to the other side, your eyes widening and cheeks warming in embarrassment when you're reminded that there is, in fact, a spiral staircase leading up to this very balcony.

you hear his heavy footsteps until he's standing in front of you, your hair messy and knotted while he looks like he stepped out of a magazine; you've been wearing the same pajamas for the past three days and you don't even wanna know how sick and sweaty you smell.

"did you know there was a staircase the whole time?" you asked quietly, your cheeks burning in the cool night air. and then even more when his lips quirk into a smirk, nodding his head at you.

you let out a tiny sigh, overwhelmed with the need to sit as you plop down on the purple patio furniture. he watches you carefully, the way you curl up and rest your head on your arm like walking over had exhausted you.

you can't find it in you to speak as you think about how horrifically ill you must look right now. because your head is still pounding and your body is just aching, probably from laying around for 72 hours.

"how you feeling?" he asks, walking over to sit down next to you. but you quickly scoot away as far as you can. "

i feel better but i could still be contagious," you tell him softly. "i don't wanna get you sick."

"i think it'd be fair if you did," he says lowly, "since it's my fault in the first place." you look over at him with a slight frown on your face, shaking your head immediately.

"no it's not."

he watches you with a skeptical expression, his eyebrow raised and jaw tight causing you to shrug your shoulders. "it's not...because how come you're not sick, then?" because you're a big, strong man? you're tempted to say but refrain, partially because you don't know how he'll react to teasing right now and because he is, in fact, a big, strong man.

"whatever," he mumbles, still feeling slightly at blame for your current state. but it’s nothing like the stupid nervousness running through his body right now, the plastic bag in his hand a reminder of what he came over here to do.

but the more he thinks about it, the more creepy he feels. who just walks on to someone's balcony and gives them food without warning?

but it's too late now and he's already half way there, popping his neck to the side before placing the bag down next to you. "your aunt told us before that you were sick,” he says, toying with the straps of the plastic bag. “so i... wanted to bring you this."

your eyebrows pull together, looking at him in confusion before he nods his head toward the mysterious item. you purse your lips to the side and hesitantly peak inside, feeling your hands touch something hot before the smell of chicken broth hits your nose.

he didn't get you...

"it's soup. just chicken noodle," he says, feeling more and more uncomfortable by this exchange; what a sappy idiot he looks like right now, it's really kind of pathetic. "don't know if you like that but when your aunt said that you were sick, i-"

"no," you immediately blurt out, cutting him off as you snap your head to look at him. he looks at you in confusion and you can't help the smile that makes it way on your face. "i like it. i love it. it's one of my favorites. thank you."

he can't help but smile at your words, feeling himself relax slightly at your reaction; he had a feeling you'd be too polite to act upset or offended but it didn't stop the fear and embarrassment from flooding through him.

he doesn't do things like this, he's not thoughtful or considerate of others. he doesn't think to go out of his way for people or surprise them with things for just the sake of them needing comfort. though here he is now, handing you over a bowl of soup he just knew he needed to give you the second your aunt said you weren’t feeling good.

and why? for what? why you?

but then your eyes soften and mumble a quiet, "thank you," rummaging through the bag with a small smile on your lips and it hits him that that is why. he watches you slurp quietly, humming softly as it warms your throat before your smile widens.

"this is good," you sigh out, almost embarrassed by how touched and happy you are over a bowl of soup. "thank you."

"welcome," he mumbles, suddenly finding the view of the beach all too captivating to ignore. you slurp up the noodles and broth beside him, occasionally seeing him turn to stare at you.

"you're a loud eater," he says and you narrow your eyes at him, slurping purposely louder and causing him to lowly chuckle. he turns away so you can finish, biting his lip at the little content noises leaving you.

he hears you fiddle with the bag as you put the empty container away, a few moments of silence stretching between you two. you're still so stupidly touched by the gesture and it really shows just how deprived you are of kind people in your life. but how can you not be happy? it's a summer night and he's spent it bringing you over soup.

"you didn't have to do that, you know," you find yourself saying softly. because as nice as it was and as happy as you are, you would've never ever expected this from anyone.

he looks over at you when those words leave your mouth, resting his arm back against the couch cushions as he licks at his lip. "i wanted to," he tells you.

he wanted to because he feels guilty, you hear that voice in your head say, it has nothing to do with you and everything to do about his conscience.

“it was my choice to try night swimming,” you say, voice quiet and shaky as you try to calm your facing hart. “it wasn't your fault so you don’t have to, like, feel bad or anything...”

“what aren't you getting?” he asks, the words immediately causing you to swallow nervously and look at him. “anything i do, i want to do. i'm never gonna feel inclined to do something just for the hell of it."

you bite the inside of your cheek at his words, sinking back into the couch defensively. his words and tone aren't mean or biting, more so just blunt and straight forward, but they still make you oddly nervous, nodding your head as a quiet "okay," eventually leaves your mouth.

and maybe it's because he doesn't answer that you blurt out some more things. things you really wish you hadn't said to him.

"it's just that...people normally don't wanna do those things for me." your voice is mousy and shaky and it's such a small thing to say but makes you feel incredibly vulnerable.

you can't help but think about how your parents have never made food for you while you were sick, how even after getting your tonsils removed or when you had a broken foot, they didn't cater to you in the slightest. they still made you walk to school and fend for yourself for dinner most nights, telling you that it wasn't their job to make your life easier.

and it’s not even like you have friends that could’ve done anything for you; most things you just do for yourself, apart from the times you’re here with your aunt.

"well i normally don't wanna do those things for people, so i guess we're both new to this.”

you turn your head to meet his gaze and he’s able to see just how much you really mean those words, your eyes twinged with sadness and confusion like you're trying to figure out what the hell he wants from you; but he doesn't really have an answer for that either, so you’ll be finding out together it seems.

a smile lights up your face before you look down at the cushion, pushing your hand into it and seeing the imprint pop up. "i guess," you say lowly. there's a warm feeling in your chest and a pulling in your stomach that really likes the sound of that, the both of you learning things together.

"now tell me," he says with a smirk, your head snapping up to meet his gaze again. "did you get sick the time you went skinny dipping?"

your cheeks flush and you giggle into your hand, slapping his arm lightly causing him to smile.

"is that a no?" he teases, your whine of "stop," causing him to smile.

you both stay out there until you can barely keep your eyes open, staying within safe topics of his friends and what else they like to do in this small beach town. you tell him about your aunt’s friends and how crazy the bingo nights can really get, a lot more sneaky cheaters than one would think.

"i think i wanna come to the next one," he hums lowly, a tired chuckle leaving your mouth as you shake your head. he can tell you’re getting tired by the droopiness of your eyes, a pink flush on your cheeks from the cold and he's half tempted to order you back inside.

but then you tiredly smile at him and he cant bring himself to leave you yet. he doesn't wanna go home to an empty house or back to that party when he could be here getting to know all about the...wholesome activities you do.

"they'll attack you," you mumble sleepily, remembering how all of the widowed woman attacked nancy's ex-boyfriend when she bought him once. "they're not used to men."

he smirks over as he looks at you, your eyes closed and head swaying in your hand before it falls off and onto the cushion. your eyes pop open and your cheeks burn, shaking away the drowsiness as you smile shyly.

"sorry. i shouldn't even be tired. i slept so much these past three days."

he can't help but smile over at you, shaking his head before looking over your cold, tired figure. "maybe you should go to bed."

but that's the last thing you wanna do; you wanna stay out here with him for just a little longer. because oddly enough, even though you haven’t known him very long, you missed his presence.

"no i'm okay," you insist with a smile, attempting to perk up. "unless you're tired."

"i'm good," he smirks, "do you have a blanket though?"

you jump up at the comment, ignoring the pounding in your head and the call of seonghwa's voice as you grab the white throw blanket at the end of your bed.

"here you go," you say, resting the blanket on his lap before sitting back down before you collapse. but then you think you might pass out anyway when he moves closer to you, taking the blanket from his lap and securing it around your body.

his hand lingers on your arm as he covers you completely, deeming you successfully warmed before he pulls back slightly.

"can't have you getting more sick," he mumbles, his long fingers playing with the end of the white fabric. you can only swallow nervously, not daring to move a muscle as his fingers rest on the blanket covering a part of your thigh.

and after a few moments of silence, attempting to control your ragged breathing between him and the cold, you hear him speak up again.

"y/n, it’s chilly, i really think you should-"

"no," you whine, a pout on your tired face as you lean the side of your head on the cushion. you look up at him and see his eyes move to your lips, lingering for a few moments before back at your face.

"you don't even know what i was gonna say," he says, his deep voice low but laced with amusement.

"you were gonna tell me to go inside," you say, quirking your eyebrows up playfully. "and i don't wanna."

"but you should," he hums, his hard gaze softening without his knowledge.

you only shake your head with a small smile, burying it in to the soft purple cushion as your eyes move to watch the calmness of the beach. he allows himself a few extra moments to look over your face, that unfamiliar pulling feeling in his chest making him wanna reach out an place his arm around you.

but he only keeps his hand on your leg, his long, ring-covered fingers toying with the blanket covering your pink pajamas pants.

and it only takes a few minutes for your eyes to close and body to relax again, seonghwa feeling a weight on his shoulder while he watches the dark waves crash. he looks down and sees your eyes are closed, breaths slow and even against his shirt and he shakes his head despite the small smile on his face.

he secures the blanket around you, admiring your sleeping face once more before he accepts the fact that, perhaps, you're about to change his whole summer.

(part 6)

#seonghwa #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa series #ateez #ateez fluff #ateez series #seonghwa imagines #seonghwa scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios

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reinersbb · 3 years

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𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐓 [𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫] Chapter Four- Little Birdie

Chapter Four of Forget

The days from that eventful Saturday night passed on at a dreadful pace. It was official, midterms sucked a considerable amount, that much you were sure of. After a long week of exams, all you wanted to do was stay bustled in your bed after such a treacherous week.

Instead of taking a much-needed break with your free time, you were currently scrounging around your dorm. Carefully placing items that belonged to Floch in a cardboard box.

You had the slightest urge to keep ahold of one object, just one, one of his jackets as a remembrance of what was of the two of you. But at the last second, you decided against the idea and packed it in with the rest of his stuff.

"Where are you going again?" Ymir dabbed at her bottom lip using the back of her wrist to wipe the settlement of milk away that came from her bowl of cereal.

"I have to meet up with Floch and give him his stuff back," you said, continuing to double-check your dorm if you'd happened to find everything that belonged to him.

"You're a better person than I am," Ymir said, tilting her head back to drink the rest of the milk out of the disposable plastic cereal bowl, "I'd throw all of his stuff away without batting an eye."

The other day, you and Floch had a conversation over text to meet up and swap your belongings. Floch messaging you out the blue surprised you greatly. You hadn't talked to him since last Friday, the day he broke up with you.

"Yeah, well I want my stuff back from him," you replied, while it wasn't a complete lie, you wanted your possessions back, but you also wanted a reason to see him again.

And you hated yourself for it.

While Floch hadn't been too much on your mind, as soon as he messaged you asking to meet up, you couldn't keep him off of your brain.

"I think I have everything," you said while picking up the cardboard box, "I guess I'll be leaving now."

Tucking the box under your arm, your hip supported the box as you turned to look at Ymir. Ymir was getting up from her bed, putting away the disposable bowl into a wastebasket.

"Don't waste too much of your time on him," Ymir laughed.

"It's a get in, get out type of operation, I swear," you rolled your eyes, a smirk pulling at your lips as you headed for the door.

"If he's a dick to you and hurts your feelings just let me know and I'll kick his ass for you," what Ymir said sounded like a promise she had every intention on keeping.

But you brushed off her brute antics with a gentle smile, "thanks, Ymir."

You knew she'd have your back, for that you were thankful.

——————

Scanning the cafe thoroughly, your gaze combed over the herd of people until familiar fiery red hair fell upon your vision. Floch sat hunched forward, his attention dwelling into his cell phone. The cardboard box you'd been holding onto slapped against the table's surface Floch was sitting at as soon as you approached him. Causing him to jump, he nearly dropped his phone he'd been so well immersed in.

"You scared me," Floch lowered his phone to look up at you.

You couldn't help but laugh, "sorry," you lied.

"Let's just get this over with," he said with a sigh as he reached for a wrinkled shopping bag beside him that held all of your possessions.

He'd barely bat an eye to shove your things into a bag while you'd had the common decency to at least fold and put away with his things accordingly? The sight of carelessness alone left bitter distaste in your mouth.

And now you were silently regretting the decision to handle this transaction in public.

Then again, what did he owe you? It's not like he was your boyfriend anymore, he didn't have to hold the same amount of respect for you or your belongings any longer.

Maybe you were just too nice, especially to the guy who'd dumped you.

"Uh," you swapped the box for your bag of belongings, "thanks, Floch."

As Floch was examining the contents of the box, you couldn't stop yourself from speaking again.

"So, how you been?" As soon as the words left your lips, you bit down on your tongue as a knee-jerk reaction.

'Shut. The. Hell. Up.'

Why worry about his well-being? It was obvious he didn't reciprocate the same concern.

"I've been okay," his eyes bored into you without any interest. "Do we have to do this forced small talk right now? I've somewhere to be," Floch spoke again, standing up from the table.

"Of course, yeah," you took a step back, allowing him some space.

You wanted him to turn around and say something else, say something to you. A goodbye at least.

But all hope was lost as you watched Floch's backside as he walked away from you. There was no inclination that he'd turn around and catch a glimpse of you on his way out the building.

The plastic material that ringed around your hand fell victim to your nails as your fist clenched tightly. Your fingernails dug deep into your palm's soft flesh while watching Floch as he finally cut from your line of sight. The departure only leaving a dull pinch at your heart.

The rest of your body hardly kept up with the speed of your feet as you headed for the direction you originally entered from. Even though you were going back to your dorm to check out the contents of the bag, you peeled back the bag to take a quick look inside.

Your breathing stilled when you noticed an unfamiliar pattern on a shirt settled on the top of the rest of the items in the bag. Pausing for a beat in time, your feet locked on the ground beneath you as your hand meticulously scooped the shirt out of the bag to examine the material.

The shirt smelled of floral perfume, the potent kind that'd give a straight headache with a singular whiff. There was one thing for certain, this wasn't your shirt.

On the inside of your mouth, your teeth pinched at your cheek, fist crumbling the sheer cotton material as you pushed through the exit- only mildly running through people's way mid-process. Your heart was beating a thousand miles a minute out of blind rage.

There could only be one explanation, he'd been cheating on you with some other girl as the two of you were dating. That could be the only reason why there was a shirt in the bag that didn't belong to you. That or it was from a hookup after the two of you broke up, but you chose the latter.

Asking Floch about it definitely wasn't an option.

Within an instant, the shirt was tossed into the garbage as soon as you came across a waste bin. You didn't want to think about it. You knew nothing good would come about if you dwelled. But then again, what would change if you knew the truth?

With a sigh, you pushed your weight away from the trash can and took a moment to forward your attention to the dull sky above you. There you watched a formation of birds pass above in a tight-knit formation, and in the back of your head, you'd only wondered why you couldn't have been born as a bird instead. Then that way life wouldn't be as difficult, at least that was your thinking, even if it seemed a bit childish in the least.

"Are you feeling okay? You look like you're about to implode or explode or something," a familiar voice called out from beside, and your eyes reluctantly lifted to see Eren approaching.

"You hardly look recognizable when sober," you adjusted your stance to match face to face with Eren.

Eren stood tall, his hand hooked around the strap of his backpack that lazily laid on his right shoulder. His hair was tied back into a bun and the strands of his hair hardly weren't as messy from the first time you saw him.

"I'll take that as some sort of compliment and count that as you hitting on me," Eren whipped his head to knock all the loose strands of hair out of his face, a cheeky grin on his lips.

Out of response, you rolled your eyes but found yourself smiling as well. You could tell that under his flirtatious manner that he was only joking around.

"Sure, yeah, let's go with that."

"Back to my previous question, you're not going to explode or something-"

"No," you cut Eren short, "I'm not going to explode or whatever. My stupid ex pissed me off just now, that's all," you sighed, remembering the shirt that didn't belong to you.

"Exes tend to do that sometimes, but I wouldn't worry about it with whatever it was they did,"

"I guess," your voice trailed on, and you found yourself looking away from Eren to watch the crowd around you, unsure of what to say next.

It's only when Eren spoke again that your full attention was back on him in a heartbeat.

"Y'know a little birdie has been asking around about you."

"About me?" Your heart steadily galloped in your chest, "who?"

There could only be one person who'd been doing such things, you knew this. And you were thrilled in the least to think Jean had been speaking about you. But you didn't want to show any excitement and jump to conclusions in front of Eren, so playing coy would be your best bet.

Eren shot you a knowing look, "you two really seemed to hit it off when we were playing spin the bottle last week."

"Jean?" You asked with innocence.

"What about me?" A familiar voice from behind sent chills up your spine.

Through your peripheral vision, you watched as his presence cut to your right to stand in between you and Eren. Your toes tapped away in your shoes, deliberately battling away your nerves as you built up enough courage to look at the man you'd had a hook up with. And by Eren's word, the same man who'd been interested enough to ask about you.

"Speaking of the devil, I was just catching up with (Y/N) before you showed up," you felt a weight lift from your shoulders as Eren saved the moment.

Against your willpower, you couldn't contain your curiosity any longer when you finally glanced over at Jean. Jean's arms were wrapped around his chest as his narrow eyes were solely set on Eren.

"Talking about the party from last week," Eren spoke once again.

At the mention of the party, this was the first time Jean's eyes cut over to you. There was a glint of an indescribable emotion in his light brown hues as you held eye contact with him. You could almost put your finger on the emotion, it's almost like you'd seen the same look in his eyes before.

"Eren!"

Collectively, all three heads turned to a guy with short blonde hair with magnificent blue eyes.

"I'll catch you two later," Eren gave Jean a pat on his shoulder before sprinting off.

With Eren's newfound absence, there was a shift in the air around the two of you. Jean nonchalantly turned his head over to look at you once again. And instead of the cool exterior, he'd just been supporting, there was the faintest shift to relaxation in his demeanor.

"So," you twisted the shopping bag in your hand, unsure of what to say next.

"So..." Jean's voice trailed on, the corners of his mouth fighting the urge to curl into a grin.

"I'm sorry for just up and running the other night," you admitted, trying to cover your bashfulness.

Naturally, a bundle of nerves began to build up just by remembering the events that took place on the night of the party. Pressing your knees together, you fought back the memory that was clogging your mind to clear your headspace.

"If there's anyone who is in need of apologizing then it should be me for not getting any contact information to keep in touch with you when I had the chance."

A sharp jolt of electricity struck your heart, there was no point in trying to hide how fast your heart was beating.

Was he flirting with you?

'No...'

You played into his bid, "well, what's stopping you now, Jean?"

"Alright, I'll bite, can I see your phone please?"

"Sure."

Without any hesitation, you dug in your pocket for your phone. After unlocking your cell, the device flat in his palm that he held out. In a matter of seconds, Jean had your phone held out for you to take back.

"Here's mine," Jean said while handing his phone over to you.

Diligently you punched your number into his contacts, labeling yourself as your first name only. Only a few seconds later you were handing his phone back to him, his fingertips brushing against yours during the exchange.

"Sweet, now we can stay in touch," Jean bounced his phone against the palm of his hand. "Are you up to anything tonight?" He quickly added.

"Nothing much, really, why?" you replied, when in reality you'd been planning on binging YouTube videos in the comfort of your bed for the rest of the night and weekend.

"I was planning on going to this Halloween party tonight," his intense eyes scanned you up and down, "you should come too, it'll be fun."

"I'm assuming it would be some type of costume party? Does that mean I'd get to see you all dressed up?"

"Yeah I have a costume in mind," the lightest shade of pink crept on his face, "but you'll have to be there in person to see it."

"Sounds tempting, but I wouldn't know what to wear such short notice," It's not like you had a costume just lying about in your possession.

"Costumes are optional but they're encouraged."

"Give me some time to think about it, okay?" By looking at his face, you didn't have the heart in you to tell him no.

"Just shoot me a text whenever and I'll text you the address," Jean replied with a shrug, "or I'll just text you."

It wasn't until now that you noticed how close Jean was standing in front of you. Noticing the limited space between the two of you, his scent was intoxicating. A scent you were getting familiar with, warm cashmere, you could drown in it.

"Sounds good," you lifted a hand to send yourself off with a parting wave, "I have to get back to my dorm now, got some unfinished business to take care of."

And by unfinished business, you meant going through your belongings Floch gave back to you.

"Oh," Jean's smile faltered for a brief moment, but you didn't notice the disappointment in his voice when he spoke, "I'll leave you to it then."

"Bye, Jean," you'd already started on your departure, your feet sliding on the pavement beneath you as you took backward steps.

Jean found this amusing as he let out the faintest laugh, "see you later, (Y/N)."

Light brown hues stared through you until you turned your head with the rest of your body as you carried on home. During mid-process you glanced over your shoulder to look behind and steal a glance only to get caught by Jean himself. He'd turned to look over at you at the same time. A gallop in your heart and a boost in your step, you sped away in a fury of embarrassment.

Before you were even back to your room, there was a vibration from your phone. You pulled your phone out of your pocket as you scurried down the hallway, heading for your door that was just down the hall.

A message from Jean had your heart thumping.

'Already?'

Within an instant, you were checking the message.

Jean: I hope I get to see you again at the party tonight.

Along with Jean's message was an attachment of the address.

Unbeknownst to you, a smile had crept onto your face when you noticed that Jean had added a selfie of himself as the contact photo.

'When did he have time to sneak a photo?'

Pushing through the door to your room, you immediately tossed your bag at your bed. The bag fell to the floor just before reaching the bed.

"What the hell?" Ymir asked with a bewildered expression, a towel clutched in her hand as she dried her hair.

"Ymir," your voice was urgent as the door closed behind you after entering the room.

Ymir who'd had every intention on keeping her earlier promise greeted you with concern, "what is it? Did something happen?"

"I need your help finding a costume for a party tonight."

#attack on titan #Jean #Jean Kirschstein #jean smut #jean kirstein #AoT #aot smut #aot jean #snk x reader #snk #aot modern au #aot college

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facets-and-rainbows · 4 years

Text

Blue Exorcist 10th anniversary book Q&A session

The 10th anniversary book has a section where Katoh answers 100 questions submitted by fans on Twitter, so here they are translated/paraphrased! May contain manga spoilers up to the recent flashback arc, so be warned.

(Note that I’m playing it very fast and loose here because there are A HUNDRED OF THEM, so not exact wordings, but it should capture the gist. Lemme know if there are any you want elaborated on)

1. Katoh likes the feel of traditional drawing more than digital but is impressed with how far digital has come

2. Meph THOROUGHLY ABUSES spacetime to watch all his shows and ensure that he gets all the merch he wants

3. Did the girls take all of Yukio’s school uniform buttons in middle school? Yes, they did (apparently it’s like A Thing for girls to ask for a button from their crush at middle school graduation, based on some sad movie from the 60s where a guy who got drafted as a kamikaze pilot gave a girl one of his uniform buttons to remember him by)

4. Rin's tail is about a meter long

5. There are tons of servants working at Mephisto's mansion. Belial is in charge of them

6. Katoh borrows from all sorts of neat real locations when making settings

7. Katoh identifies with pretty much all the characters the most! Except Lucifer.

8. Demon designs she's proud of include the impure king and hachirou, pretty much anything that was the main one in an arc

9. Katoh lists a bunch of her favorite musical artists/music she’s listening to recently: King Gnu, Official Hige Dandism, Kenshi Yonezu, BAD HOP, Sakanaction, Keyakizaka 46, Hypnosis Mic, Aimer, B’Z, Queen Bee.

10. Awww the rabbit manga that characters are often reading isn't just Robo to Usakichi, it's an even older one that she drew as a little kid

11. She likes industrial style interior designs

12. Rin and Yukio alternated who got the top bunk growing up, because they couldn't agree on it lol

13. Katoh cares a whole lot about panel layouts and speech bubble positions, might even be her favorite part of the process (it shows!)

4. Katoh does NOT have a mashou, lol

15. Rin has probably been practicing in secret so he can learn to carry stuff with his tail

16. Izumo probably got into shojo manga around 1st grade, her mom had some around the house

17. Specialty dishes: Rin - lots of stuff but especially nabe Yuri - stuff you can throw together quickly Shiro - stuff he learned from Yuri and/or cookbooks, alongside teaching Rin Yukio - Does. Not. Cook.

18. Can't pick a favorite place she's been on research, but there's no place like Japan

19. Kinzou's band isn't currently meeting because demons, but he's probably still thinking of new songs

20. Hardest characters to draw: anyone with detailed flowing hair. Hardest to write for: Lightning and Gedouin. She had to go read books about serial killers specifically for material for Gedouin, lol

21. Suguro actually gets a dorm room to himself, though allegedly Yukio is technically assigned as his roommate, lol. Didn't end up that way what with Yukio being a teacher and also Rin’s whole...situation

22. Shiemi makes some of her own hair accessories! Cute

23. Katoh doesn't mind if you include stuff with fan letters but check with the editor first

24. Time for making each chapter: Planning/storyboarding: 1-5 days. Sketching: 3-5 days. Drawing/inking: the rest. Just...the rest of the time

25. Neither Suguro nor Izumo have dated before and neither is currently dating. But that's probably just because things were hectic for them! It could happen

26. Yukio breaks 5 or 6 pairs of glasses a year, someone get this kid a strap or something

27. How many spare glasses does Yukio have? Check the fanbook lol it's in there (dang it Katoh)

28. The demon she wants us to pay the most attention to is Lucifer. Because plot.

29. What's under the Order's big meeting table? It's a BOTTOMLESS PIT and if you fall in it you DIE that's what makes it COOL (laughs)

30. What are the job requirements for the angelic legion? Literally just Arthur liking you and inviting you to join

31. She WANTS to do more character profiles but just hasn't gotten to it

32. Rin's tail feels like a cat tail, texture wise

33. The "red Assiah fire" is literally just actual fire nothing special

34. Rin's current hair color is light blue fading to white at the ends

35. Thoughts on Rin's growth: she likes that he stays positive in awful situations and she also thinks it's very main character of him to face the past instead of avoiding it

36. Mephisto didn't purposely surround Rin with stuffed animals when he woke up after going crispy. Mephisto's bed is just Like That

37. Kurikara was based on a cool sword she found in a sword book, but that one was technically just a ceremonial sword. The symbol on it us a Sanskrit letter kaan (sp?) associated with Fudou Myouou

38. Kuro can communicate with normal cats and hangs out with them often

39. Sometimes Shiemi's skirt is extra fancy around the hem what's up with that? Apparently it's an optional accessory that comes with the skirts help I haven't noticed this and don't know any fashion terms in any language

40. When coloring, Katoh always tries to have an overall theme in mind ("emphasis on blue" etc) so it comes together in the end

41. Yes the twins are genetically related to Shiro because of Goro (she says they're like his nephews but I say GENETICALLY at least they'd be indistinguishable from his children)

42. Strongest mom of all the strong moms around here? Yuri! Did you SEE her give birth??

43. Are you careful about your own health Katoh-sensei? Not particularly! Her mom has had to bring her food at work sometimes! Don't do this at home kids

44. At the dating events Shura goes to, does she drink cocktails in moderation? Yeah, she probably downplays her normal drinking habits at these things. But normally she's down for just about any kind of drink

45. Lucifer just really likes oysters okay

46. How many pages of manga does Katoh draw in a day? If she's being good about self-care: three. Maximum number ever: TEN

47. Mephisto is one of those folks who can eat like a garbage compactor and never gain weight. Possibly because his body resists that sort of change the same way it resists aging etc

48. First food Rin cooked: fish burger type patty. Yukio's favorite things Rin cooks: fish simmered in soy sauce, yellowtail with daikon radish. It's fish all the way down

49: Did Rin ever get more monthly allowance from Mephisto? It doubled! He gets TWO 2000 yen bills now (rip) [T/N: That's uh, that's USD $37.26 a month or 33.10 euro]

50. Why isn't Rin more popular with the girls? He gets nervous talking to them, plus he's too oblivious to notice even if he DID have some fans

51. Why change Suguro's hair? She gets bored with keeping everything the same, and she wanted a visual representation that he was getting serious and going into kind of a training arc

52. Things Katoh pays extra attention to when drawing: trying to capture the feel of whatever she's drawing (like "that looks warm and soft" or "I bet that guy stinks" cough Lightning cough)

53: Does Rin take after Yuri more? (He's got her eyes!) Katoh tried to draw Yuri so she looks like both twins. Personality, too - Yukio has her smarts and Rin has her optimism

54: Do you ever wanna be like Mephisto? Well she'd like to be able to get away with just ANYTHING EVER, but no, let's not be like Mephisto

55. Konekomaru not only carries around a cat toy in case he meets any cats, he MAKES cat toys to carry around based on what he thinks the cats would like

56. How'd you come up with Shima? Go read the fan book!

57. Do the kids have Twitter/Instagram accounts? Rin - probably not. Konekomaru might be on some social media. Paku and Izumo are totally on instagram

58. Is there something Rin makes that you wish you could try? All of it! That's the whole idea! He's good at cooking!

59. Will we ever have a (G-rated) reveal of what ALL of Mamushi and her family's tattoos look like? Maybe! She'll think about it

60. Does Arthur have a repertoire of different hairstyles? Not really, he just puts some of it up on the top. Heck he might even have people to do that for him

61. If you wrote a shojo manga what would it be about? She'd have to do a lot of research before even coming up with a story, since there are so many style differences between the genres aside from just the subject

62. The other two of Mephisto's top 3 favorite foods: Cup ramen and....f-fried bubblegum?? Is that a THING???

63. Where do you start when drawing a character? Usually the outline of their face but if it's a complex pose/composition she'll start with whatever's in the foreground (like hands)

64. If Katoh could have a familiar, what demon would she choose? Mephisto. As the all-powerful author, she might actually be able to command him as a familiar!

66. If you swapped Yukio and Rin's relationship around what would change? not much, you'd pretty much have Rin going to the Illuminati and Yukio going to the past

67. Top 3 foods/souvenirs to try in Kyushu? Well she doesn't know what’s good CURRENTLY but when she was there she always used to like burdock tempura udon, hakata torimon (a kind of manju with white bean paste inside), and Chikae style cod roe. today I learned Katoh went to high school in Kyushu

68. Katoh listens to music a lot while she's storyboarding, then when she and the assistants are all drawing and inking they put various videos/movies and stuff on in the background

69. For all his hitting on girls, is Shima actually popular with the ladies at all? He's got enough girls in his life that he probably COULD find a girlfriend if he really wanted, but the double agent thing tends to get in the way. He still wouldn't be as popular as Yukio though (side thought/translator’s note: Shima would be proud of being number 69.)

70. Katoh has the ending planned out in a big-picture way, but there are still a few details here and there that she's fretting over

71. It's cute when the boys put their ties over their shoulders when they're working on something! Where'd that come from? She just figured a tie might get in the way and that seemed like a realistic way to get it out of the way

72. Looks like Yukio is getting some facial hair! What about Rin? They're both about the age for it, but maybe Rin can't grow a beard yet. Maybe a little peach fuzz here and there

73. Katoh's favorite blue exorcist merch? There were some exorcist licenses a while back, and the exorcist pins. Basically it's really cool that these little accessories she drew ACTUALLY EXIST NOW, LIKE YOU CAN HOLD THEM IN YOUR HANDS

74. Okay realtalk how long do we have left, I don't want the series to end yet? We're solidly in the second half by now but it's not, like, ABOUT to end yet

75. Katoh would be a Knight meister, based on what characters she likes to play in games and such

76. How many people in the whole exorcism cram school? More than you think! She doesn't give a number but apparently licensed exorcists also attend classes for new meisters, etc, so there's a wide age range attending

77. How's Arthur feel about, like, studying Taming on the way to becoming Paladin? He's at least mostly accepted that you have to use demons to fight demons effectively

78. Konekomaru started wearing glasses in his first year of middle school, so like 7th grade (more recent than I thought!) He has one spare pair, in contrast to Yukio lol

79. Katoh's current obsessions? Ghost/scary stories! She's even been going to live readings of them recently

80. Media Katoh consumes for inspiration? A wide range of foreign teen drama, horror/suspense, shojo manga, light novels, anime, etc. Special focus on things where two boys are in conflict or there are brothers involved

81. If they weren't exorcists what jobs would they have? Rin - chef. Yukio - doctor. Shiemi - uh, florist?

82. Inspiration for the design of True Cross Town? Katoh and her assistants gathered up a bunch of references, picked out stuff they felt matched the tone, and mashed them all up together

83. Did you use any references etc for the school/exorcist uniforms? She says she probably should have but she just kind of made them up before publication

84. Favorite part of drawing? For color pages, picking out a color scheme. For black and white, drawing in all the little details (though she doesn't always get time to lately)

85. Once again confirms the demon kings' weird hair is a representation of their horns. ADDS THAT PEOPLE WHO CAN'T SEE DEMONS CAN'T SEE THE WEIRD HAIR

86. Now that Yukio's at the Illuminati, where's he gonna get his Jump SQ and spare glasses? Well he probably never planned to stay for long, but hey it's a big ship and they might have an optometrist and/or newsstand there

87. Do you base the demon characters on any references etc? Not really, she just gets a general idea of popular demon designs and then makes up her own in her own style

88. Merchandise Katoh personally wants to have made: stuff that an adult could just use in their day to day life. Also, it's not gonna happen, but if her favorite figure brand made AoEx figures she could die happy

89. If Beelzebub's host body was a beautiful woman, how would Shima react? Would the womanizing win out over the bug phobia? Katoh replies that Shima would probably just faint from being near a girl that pretty, before the bugs even got involved

90. Will the twins ever get to smile and eat dinner together again?? We'll just have to wait and see!

91. What do you check at a "scenario check"? what's a scenario check man I dunno They check for people being out of character or the setting feeling off. They had a lot of these checks for the anime, but they also do them for the drama CD, games, and all that other stuff where multiple authors are involved

92. Why does Shura use baldy as an insult for people who are clearly not bald? She feels like they have some kind of metaphorical, mental kind of "baldness" and she's calling them out on it. Whatever that means

93. After Blue Exorcist ends, what do you want to draw next? She has SO MANY IDEAS, SO MANY

94. Did Katoh make up the Shinto chants that, for example, Izumo used against Gedouin? They're assembled from bits of actual Shinto prayers according to what feels right in the scene

95. Yukio reads the Jump SQ, right, and, just hear me out here, he likes gag manga, right? Does this mean he reads Salaryman Yukio? It's something he would read, but let's say that in the AoEx universe there's just a very similar manga that he finds oddly relatable

96. What do Yukio and Shima do in their free time on the Dominus Liminus? oh my god you guys this ship has so many amenities. Yukio probably spends time reading in the library, which they totally have. There's also, like, a gym, and a movie theater, and a THEATER theater, all of which are free. Shima probably hangs out at the pool (!) and goes to the movies, and hits on illuminati girls, lol

97. Easiest character to draw? The ones with boring simple hair, lol. Lightning gets an honorable mention for ALSO not having eyes in most shots, but Rin wins--he was specifically designed to be easy for Katoh to draw because that's what you want in your main character

98. How do demons understand gender? They just possess whatever feels like the best match to how they feel in Gehenna, whether that's a man, or a woman, or a rat, or whatever

99. Where do you start when you're coming up with a story? She starts with character design and how the characters relate to each other. Currently she's just continuing an existing story, so she works on splitting up the overall plot into episodes and fleshing it out with scenes and information about characters

100. When do you feel most happy? She honestly feels like she lives a very happy life overall. Mentions noticing a lot of little things, like how nice her cats' heads smell when she cuddles them or taking a nice cold refreshing drink of water. There's happiness in everything. aww.

#blue exorcist #interview #Ao no Exorcist #translation

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cottoncandyjester · 3 years

Note

PLEASE I NEED MORE NSFW HEADCANONS OF UR OCS

Well since you asked oh so nicely

This contains:nsfw talk, spanking, salem being salem, degrading, public humiliation

Theodore

If you think he likes vanilla sex cause he's a gentleman you're wrong

Theo likes the thought of being tied up and dominated it's a thought he pushes down constantly

He definitely has a praise and worship kink both receiving and giving

His hands are his best skill

Gives amazing handjobs and is perfect at fingering

He is a giver in bed so he'll spend hours just making you cum over and over

He feels so embarrassed if you try to praise him in bed

He isn't usrd to feeling vulnurable

He hides his moans

If you want him to be loud ride him

He is only rough if he's jealous and only does it as an act of possession

"sweetie, my sweet angel..I'm sorry but I truly can't let this go. The fact that that walking idiot had the nerve to touch you while we were on a date. You'll forgive me for my roughness won't you my dear?"

Theodore's gentle tone didn't match his harsh grip on your hips as he leaned down to plant a harsh and steamy kiss along your neck. He was a person who didn't like being rough on his partner but there were times where it needed to be done

Axis

So he cries during sex

But we all knew that

He is a switch but either way he's sobbing and begging for more

When he is a top he is hugely into petplay

Prefers the nickname bunny for his lover

Will definitely buy you bunny petplay items for the bedroom and dress you up

He likes the soft feeling of the bunny tail so expect him to touch it 24/7 while he's fucking you

As a bottom he's submissive to the core

Definitely has a mommy/daddy kink

Touch is very important to him

He likes the feeling of silk and lace against his skin

He likes to blindfold you so you experience what he does

He is the type to remind you of the safeword over and over

He doesn't wanna be overbearing but he's always scared about making you uncomfortable

He is the type to drown you with praise and love

He just adores you to the point where the softest of touches makes him cum

Tie him up and he's whining

"[y/n], please- a-ahh I can't take it anymore"

Axis whimpered as he struggled against the restraints, the silk brushing against his wrists made him shudder at the delicate feeling. Tears streamed down his face as you bounced up and down on him riding him to the point of overstimulation

"hold on for a little longer, you'll be a good boy and do that right?"

"[y/n]! Yes! Yes! I'll be good just please let me cum!"

His sobbing was so cute that you just had to tease him some more..even if it made him sob

Hikaru

We know he adores degrading

Sex with him is rough and normally humiliating

He adores making you feel like utter garbage during sex

Of course this being said knocking him down a few pegs may be best

Hes totally into pegging

He is the type to show his lover off and show how submissive they are in the best and most embarrassing of ways

To him it's a show and he adores being the center of attention

"aren't they just so cute, writing and crying like that like a little slut"

Hikaru smiled sweetly as he turned the vibrator up using the remote in his hand. He was having a party and you were the main event, it was punishment for you being a brat before so showing you off like a prize infront of a bunch of people sounded like an utter delight.

"I think they are going to cum again, I suppose I should help them out"

Hikaru gave a long sigh as he walked towards you onto the stage where he tied you up to suffer, he leaned in close with a devilish grin as he watched your expression change to one of desperation and submission.

"come now piggy, you have to be louder than that if you are going to make a good host. What if I fuck you righr here infront of everyone? We can even hold an auction on who gets to stuff you next"

"n-no p-please-"

Hikaru cut you off by yanking your hair back roughly practially growling in your ear at this point.

"then be a good fucking slut mext time or I swear to God I'll sell you to the most disgusting rat I can find"

Hikaru moved back and turned to the crowd before giving a cute laugh before glancing back at you.

"how about we make this more entertaining hmm? After all we have all night to play with them"

Prince

He is very open minded to sex

Except being fucked, that scares the hell out of him

He will do it but he will be very vulnurable during it

He is very experienced so he is the type to take the lead

That being said he thinks its hot when you boss him around

He's horny all the time but he likes doing it in public

His favorite kink is definitely a daddy kink

Call him daddy and he's drooling

Is a master of teasing

He is so cocky during sex

His voice is sly 100% of the time

"You're just too cute babe"

A shaky breathing escapes you as prince teasingly flicked his tongue along your sex making sure to press his piercing against you in the best of ways.

Prince had exact one hour until he had to open the bar so he took this time to give you oral ontop of the bar as a reward for being so cute.

"your sounds are making me so damn horny, shit I just might have to fuck you right here and now you'll want thst right cutie?"

Yuki

Ah the underdog of the group

He is quite brutal

Heavy BDSM is his thing

Full on chains, whips and collars

Both receiving and giving

He is actually the type to be a giver in bed

He'll make you cum with tous over and over til you pass out

He takes that time to masterbate in hiding

He is very vulnurable when touching himself or receiving pleasure

He doesn't want you to see that side of him cause hes embarrassed

Plus he is insecure of his body cause he has scars along it

He is definitely in shibari and bondage as well as leather

Buying riding crops and paddles make him all giddy

He always makes sure you're comfortable though

Absolutely stop if you say the safeword

He doesn't have a huge sexdrive so when you two do have sex it last for hours

It's mostly just foreplay and trying new toys on you to see what they do

A shaky huff escaped yuki as he curled up more in the computer chair stroking himself to the image of you wrapped in leather, it was such a beautiful sight that it made him absolutely hard.

"[y/n]...[y/n]..."

His chanting of your name was low yet whiny as he felt close to climax, that feeling was soon ripped away from him when he felt your hand ripping his away from his cock.

"is this what you do when I'm not around? Wow..what don't want me to see your cock?"

"ah! Wai-"

You cut him off by moving his legs open more so sit on your knees in between them. He looked so shocked that you honestly found it adorable.

"relax yuki, I just want to please you okay?"

He turned his head away and gave a shaky nod soon shuddering when you wrapped your mouth around his length.

"ngh- [y/n]!"

Your eyes sparkled at the sight of his flushed face and you knew that you had to do this to him again

Salem

Oh boy..

Salem is an absolute animal

He loves sex so much that if he doesn't do it at least four times a day he will go through withdrawal

He likes it sloppy and messy

He is the one who is into darker and more dangerous kinks

From blood to biting

Being a cannibal he has to be careful with blood since too much can trigger him to really hurt you

You have to make sure to shout the safeword or he definitely won't hear you

All in all he is a wild lover

Try to deny him for too long and he's pouncing so make sure to keep your schedule clear for him

Eight hours, it's been so hours since salem fucked you and he was going crazy. He didnt understand why you had to do something dumb like have a boring job he offered to let you on his camshow but you always reject him.

When you returned home you couldn't help but stare at the messy house with furniture that had odd holes carved into them, you had a feeling you knew what those were for

"sale-ah! Wait!"

The male pounced you now sitting ontop of you and trailing his tongue along your neck dripping drool onto you as he grinded his hips against yours eagerly basically humping you.

"gimmie gimmie! Lets fuck already!"

"can't i close the front door first?"

You tried to reason with your boyfriend who was using his mouth to remove your clothes while his hands squeezed and fondled every inch of you he could.

"[y/nnnn]~ ahh!"

"Wha-mphff!"

Salem grabbed your face forcing your mouth open before drooling into it letting his saliva drip into your mouth before he gave you a loud sloppy kiss making sure to shove his tongue into your mouth.

it seems you weren't getting out of this easily.

#yandere imagines #yandere ocs #yandere #oc smut #oc x reader #oc imagines #tw salem

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tsuki-chibi · 3 years

Text

Ladrien June Day 26 - Squall: Caught

This story is a sequel to my Marinette March, Adrinette April, and Marichat May stories; I highly recommend reading those first.

You can also read this story on AO3: Squall

---

“I am not,” Gabriel said, and now he actually looked like he was pouting. Renard couldn’t believe his eyes. He had never seen anything even close to a pout cross his father’s face. He almost wished that he wasn’t transformed so that he could whip out his phone and take a picture.

“We love you anyway,” Bridgette said, patting Gabriel’s shoulder in mock sympathy.

“Speak for yourself,” said Félix, and Émilie giggled.

Gabriel sighed. “I hate all three of you.”

“Hey! I didn’t do anything,” Bridgette objected. “I was the one who tried to talk you out of destroying your design.”

“You destroyed your design? Oh, Gabriel, why?” Émilie said, looking disappointed. “That dress you showed me was so beautiful.”

“It just wasn’t right,” Gabriel said, and proceeded to launch into a very technical, very boring explanation of why the design he had been working on wasn’t turning out the way he wanted it to. This time, Renard was the one who sighed. It turned out that fashion design was only interesting when he was listening to Marinette talk about it.

His concern over getting caught was diminishing by the moment. Émilie, Félix, and Bridgette were listening to Gabriel with identical rapt expressions, like every word that Gabriel was saying was fascinating. Luckily for Renard, it didn’t seem to have occurred to any of them that they should look up in the tree above them to see if someone was eavesdropping on them.

Still, it gave him the chance to study the alternate universe versions of his mother and father in person.

Renard did his absolute best to take in every little detail.

This Émilie didn’t have her hair back in a braid; her hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, and it was much shorter than how Renard’s mother usually wore it. She was also wearing a baggy blue sweatshirt that Renard’s mother would not have been caught dead in. But all that wasn’t to say she didn’t look pretty because she did. Émilie could have been wearing a garbage bag and she would have looked beautiful.

Gabriel’s clothing was a little more casual too, but not as much as Émilie’s. What Renard really noticed about this Gabriel was how expressive he was. He was animated, waving his hands around as he spoke, and he actually shared details about his design process without being promoted. Renard’s father wouldn’t even talk to Nathalie about his process, and Nathalie was his trusted assistant!

“Well, I’m sure you’ll figure out how to resolve it. You always do,” Émilie said with a smile as Gabriel wound down.

“Thanks,” Gabriel said, smiling back at her.

It was an expression of such love that it made Renard’s breath catch.

He didn’t know how he had ever thought Gabriel and Bridgette could be dating.

Apparently it didn’t matter what universe he was in: Gabriel’s heart was destined to be captured by Émilie.

“I tried calling you earlier. Why didn’t you pick up?” Félix said to Bridgette.

“I lost my phone,” Bridgette said, making a face. “Actually, that’s not true. I think my phone was stolen.”

“Stolen!” Félix said, surprised. “What do you mean?”

“Some kid was in the bakery earlier. I sat down with him for like two minutes and then I had to go in the back. I’m positive I left my phone on the table, and I think the kid took off with it,” Bridgette said.

“That sucks,” Émilie said sympathetically.

“You should call the police,” Gabriel added, and Renard winced.

Bridgette shrugged. “It’s fine. I’ll see the kid again. In fact, I’m sure that I will,” she said. “I can get my phone back then.”

“You sure about that? I know your family makes great pastries, but I don’t think they’re so great that a thief would risk getting caught just to get some,” Félix said.

“I have my ways,” Bridgette said smugly, straightening the hem of her red jacket. “Hey, you guys wanna go grab a bite to eat? I’m starving.”

“Sure,” Émilie said, hooking her arm through Gabriel’s.

Renard finally relaxed as the four of them walked away, laughing and joking. As he watched them go, he couldn’t help thinking that the four of them looked a lot like him, Marinette, Alya, and Nino. Just a group of friends causally hanging out without a care in the world.

He had never really thought about his parents like that: as people, not just his mother and father.

But they were people, weren’t they? Dangerous people.

Dangerous people who needed to be stopped.

“I need to get the Black Cat miraculous,” Renard said quietly, standing up. He jumped out of the tree and started making his way towards the Dupain bakery.

Post Chapter

#miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #fox miraculous #gabriel agreste #ladrienjune2021 #emilie agreste #alternate universe #squall #storm verse

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deja-you · 4 years

Text

times new roman | episode five

t. jefferson x reader

summary: Y/n needs a date. Thomas would be more than happy to oblige.

trailer | previous | next

A few hours earlier...

Sometimes, as humans, we love and forget how to stop loving. Questions will go through your head, like: what if I can’t ever stop loving you? What if I forget everything about myself, and only remember your name? Sometimes we meet the person we want to fall asleep beside. The person whose heartbeat you just can’t help but count.

And then sometimes we meet Thomas Jefferson. Arrogant, know-it-all Thomas Jefferson. The casual flirt who didn’t care for real relationships and was content with one-night stands. The lawyer who defended big oil companies and wealthy business men because, as he put it, “someone had to do it.” The man who had been born into a wealthy family, got into a good school because his family made large contributions, and couldn’t imagine a life void of penthouse apartments and designer suits. In conclusion, Thomas Jefferson was not a man Y/n could ever see herself dating.

This wasn’t a date. They both made that perfectly clear. Quite frankly, Y/n was bored and had nothing else to do. At least, that’s what she told herself. There was nothing harmful about hanging out with her father’s employee for a while, was there? It was fun and meaningless, what could be wrong about it?

But if you had told Y/n how the day was going to end, she would never have left the coffee shop. In fact she would’ve thought you were joking. But no one was there to tell her how the day was going to end, so she did leave the coffee shop. Thomas called an Uber and a few minutes later, Kevin, in a silver Prius showed up to take the pair to Coney Island.

“Really? The Thomas Jefferson takes Ubers? I thought you would have a private driver or a luxury car,” Y/n said.

“S’that really what you think of me? I’m a man of the people, angel.”

She rolled her eyes. “A man of the people who wears $600 Burberry shoes.”

“Excuse me? For your information, I got these shoes on sale. See? I’m just like ordinary people, shopping sales and stuff,” Thomas tried, unconvincingly.

“How much were they on sale, Thomas?” Y/n prodded.

“...$300.”

Y/n proceeded to make fun of Thomas for buying a pair of shoes for that much, saying something about how the rich need to pay higher taxes, but he didn’t hear much of what she said. He was too focused on the fact that she had finally used his first name.

At some point during the 45 minute ride to Coney Island, Thomas asked Kevin if he could have control over the AUX chord. Kevin agreed (earning himself a five-star rating) and Thomas then played some tunes from the 60s.

“The Temptations?” Y/n raised an eyebrow as the catchy intro to My Girl began playing.

“You got a problem with that?” Thomas asked, then he began singing (might I add, quite loudly) along with the lyrics. “I’ve got sunshine, on a cloudy day...”

Y/n shook her head and began to sing along, but still much more reserved than Thomas. “And when it’s cold out, I’ve got the month of May...”

Thomas smiled when he heard her sing along. The chorus started and he nudged her with his shoulders, urging her to sing louder. Y/n rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t keep the smile off her face. They continued to sing the remainder of the song together until it began to die down and transition into another R&B song.

“So tell me,” Y/n began, “what made you decide to take a trip to Coney Island today?”

Thomas gave her a thoughtful look. “Used to come with my mom and siblings when we visited New York. Always had fun.”

“What about your dad?” Y/n asked.

He sighed and looked away from her. “My dad died when I was 14. We started visiting New York every summer after that.”

“I... I didn’t know. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“You couldn’t have known.” Thomas gave her a small smile. “Everything about Virginia reminded me of my dad. I think that’s why I moved to New York. I’ll visit Coney Island now and then when I want to be reminded of my family. Reminded of the good parts, at least.”

They fell into silence, neither one of them knowing what to say. The beat of some jazzy tune could be heard as well as Kevin tapping along on the steering wheel.

“My dad used to take me to Coney Island,” Y/n finally said. She was trying to break the silence, but immediately wished she hadn’t said anything. Was it insensitive to bring up her own dad when Thomas had just told her that his dad had died?

She was put at ease when he smiled. “That so?”

Y/n nodded slowly. “Well, it was only once. I must’ve been ten? We went on a rollercoaster, even though I was terrified.” She laughed quietly before turning more serious. “I don’t think I’ve been to Coney Island since. Dad started getting more busy, which I understood of course.”

Thomas turned on his side to face her, casually resting his arm against the backseat. Maybe he didn’t know how good his bicep looked when he sat like that. Maybe he did. “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be Washington’s kid. I mean, he’s an amazing guy and a great boss—feel free to tell him I said that —but running a business this size must take a lot of time.”

“It was hard at first, for my mom and I,” Y/n admitted. “He would always be traveling for work. It took us a little bit, but we figured it out. He would visit us at home sometimes, and then other times mom and I would visit him. Sometimes he would take me on work trips with him. And then it made sense to go to college in New York so I could be closer to dad.”

“Sounds like everything worked out pretty well for you and your family, then.”

“Only because my parents worked hard to make time for me. My dad was always happy to see me, but I could tell that he was exhausted after a long week and traveling home to see us.” She then added, “but I shouldn’t complain. I know a lot, if not most, people had it worse off.”

“Maybe,” Thomas shrugged, “or maybe not. You don’t need to compare your struggles to anyone else’s, angel.”

“I...I know that,” Y/n murmured.

They continued talking for the rest of the drive. Discussing which Netflix shows were the best, and which ones were garbage (Thomas was convinced Tiger King was the best show on Netflix, making Y/n roll her eyes). Thomas told some funny anecdote about one of his crazy clients, and Y/n even brought up how she was trying to find an internship with a humanitarian group. They never ran out of things to talk about, and only stopped their conversation when Kevin the Uber driver announced they had reached their destination.

“It is cold.” Y/n admitted as she stepped out of the car.

“I did tell you to bring a jacket, didn’t I? The wind coming off the ocean is pretty chilly, isn’t it?”

Y/n squinted up at the sky. “It doesn’t help that the sun hasn’t decided to come out.”

Thomas chuckled and began walking down the boardwalk. “C’mon, I know what’ll cheer you up. Let’s get food.”

There weren’t many things that could make Y/n smile the way she did when she was offered food. She happily skipped after Thomas and they came to a food stand. They ordered some variety of burgers, fries, and milkshakes, Y/n didn’t really pay much mind to it. When Thomas pulled out her wallet she swatted his hand away.

“You paid for the Uber, I can’t let you pay for lunch, too,” Y/n insisted, pulling out her own wallet.

He waved her off. “No, let me. What kind of gentleman doesn’t pay on a—”

“On a what, Thomas?” Y/n raised an eyebrow. “Because we’ve both agreed that this isn’t a date.”

“Right, right. Of course.”

“Besides, the whole idea that men have to pay for dates, or in our case non-dates, is completely outdated. I’m paying for lunch.”

Thomas hid a smile and allowed Y/n to pay for lunch, seeing that nothing he said would change her mind at this point. It was mostly a pride thing, he figured. Y/n paid for the food and they ate while they walked along the boardwalk.

“So what’s the plan now?” Y/n asked. “Are we going to go do all that touristy stuff?”

“Wasn’t my plan,” Thomas replied. “Unless that’s what you want to do. There is something I want to show you.”

“You’ve probably been here more times than me, I’ll let you make the decisions. This time.”

“Great. You done eating?”

Y/n looked down at the empty bag she held in her hand that had been filled with food only moments before. What? She was hungry. “Yep. All done.”

They tossed their garbage in a trash can, and Y/n let Thomas lead her down a boardwalk toward who knows where. They stopped so Thomas could buy a bag of cherries. Y/n had so many questions, she didn’t even know where to begin.

“You’re buying cherries? Are you hungry? We just ate. I didn’t know they were even in season,” she commented.

Thomas turned to look at her, rolling his eyes. “So you’re just going to question and insult all my decisions, then?”

She shrugged. “What else would I do?”

“C’mon, angel, let’s go.”

So with a bag of cherries in hand, Thomas continued on his way down the boardwalk with Y/n in tow. They walked in silence; Y/n didn’t even question him when Thomas stepped off the boardwalk and onto the sandy beach. They didn’t walk to the water. Thomas and Y/n walked along the boardwalk until the boardwalk was a few feet over their heads.

They kept walking until Thomas led Y/n to a spot underneath the boardwalk. Ocean air on one side, a concrete wall filled with graffiti on the other. Sand beneath them, and the slotted wood of the boardwalk above letting through beams of sunlight. Waves could be heard crashing on the shore not too far away, along with seagulls somewhere above them and the nondescript chatter of tourists and locals.

Thomas climbed on top of a cement slab and took a seat, opening his bag of cherries. “Here we are. This has been my spot since I was a kid. I hope you like it.”

“Under a boardwalk? Sitting on cement?”

“What? You don’t like it, angel?” He teased.

Y/n shook her head and moved to take a seat next to her. “No, I love it. I just didn’t picture Thomas Jefferson’s hangout to look like this.”

“Why do you say ‘Thomas Jefferson’ like that? Like I’m some kind of notorious billionaire playboy.”

“That’s what you think it sounds like when I say your name like that?” She laughed. “I don’t know, is that not how you see yourself?”

“Well I wouldn’t be in bad company, would I? Batman and Iron Man are both billionaire playboys,” he pointed out. “But I see myself as a suave, charming business man with a touch of Southern hospitality.”

“You’re so full of it.”

And sure, it was supposed to be an insult. But the way Y/n laughed when the words came out of her mouth made Thomas feel a way he hadn’t felt in a while. He’d rather have her insult him everyday than have some other woman whisper sweet nothings in his ear. Because all they would be is nothing, and when Y/n spoke it was like warm honey and a string orchestra.

“Perhaps.” Thomas shrugged and nudged the bag of cherries toward her. “You want one?”

She eyed them warily. “I don’t know. Are they poisoned? How do I know you didn’t lure me out to Coney Island to give me poisoned cherries and hide my body under the boardwalk?”

“Why would I want to kill you? They’re not poisoned.”

Y/n decided that he must be telling the truth and popped a cherry into her mouth.

“Besides,” Thomas continued, “if I wanted to kill you, this wouldn’t be the way.”

She swallowed roughly and stared at him with wide eyes. Seeing her expression, Thomas laughed in an attempt to reassure her. “I’m just teasin’, angel. Don’t look at me like that.”

“So,” Y/n said, “do you often lure unsuspecting women down here with a bag of poisoned cherries?”

“They’re not poisoned.” He shook his head, but his smile still reached his eyes. “But to answer your question, no. I’ll come down here now and then, usually pick up some local fruit, but I’ve never brought anyone else here.”

“Should I feel special, then?”

Thomas watched her for a moment then shrugged. “If you want. I think you’re pretty special no matter what.”

“So smooth. You practiced that?”

“If you would I believe it, no. But I have other tried and true pick-up lines.”

“Let’s hear them.”

“Really?”

She nodded, “yeah.”

“Well sometimes I’ll say,” and he proceeded to drop his voice an octave to try and sound... sexy? “‘Do you have a name? Or can I just call you mine.’“

Y/n burst out laughing again, leaving Thomas confused.

“Huh. That’s not usually the response I get,” he admitted.

She tried to contain her laughter. “I’m sorry, but that’s hilarious. Does that actually work on women?”

“You’d be surprised. 9 times out of 10.”

“Alright, alright. What else you got?”

“Okay, how about ‘are you a map? Because I just got lost in your eyes.’”

Y/n laughed again. “Really? That’s so corny.”

“Is it?” Thomas pouted. “Fine, I’d like to see you do better. Give me your best pick-up line.”

“I will do better. Okay, try this one on for size. Are you a beaver? Because dam.“ The way she said it with such seriousness must’ve made it funnier, because it was Thomas’s turn to laugh this time.

“I’ll admit,” he smiled. “I liked that one.”

“See? It’s not that hard.”

“Fine, you win. Now let’s do something I know I can beat you at.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”

Thomas held up a cherry for her to see, then pulled the stem off. “Have you ever tied a knot in a cherry stem with your tongue?”

“No, but I’m sure it’s not that hard.”

Y/n would live to regret those words. For the next who-knows-however minutes, Y/n struggled to tie a knot in her cherry stem. It was one of those things that she thought she would just pick up easily, but it was so much harder than it looked. It didn’t help that Thomas was weirdly good at this, tying maybe three stems while Y/n was still working on her first. His coaching wasn’t very helpful either.

“You just need to bend the stem in half with your tongue, cross the two ends over, and tighten the knot with your teeth,” he told her for what could’ve been the hundredth time.

“I’m trwaying! Not sthat easuh!” Y/n complained, aggressively maneuvering her tongue around the stem. Thomas laughed at her but was silenced when she sent him her very best death glare.

For the next five minutes, Y/n was completely focused on tying the stem. First, she had to make sure the stem was bendy enough to be tied. Bending it into a half-circle was the easy part. She scrunched her nose up when she had to cross the ties, knowing this is where she had always messed up in the past. Then using her tongue to push one end of the stem through the loop, she tightened it and pulled out them stem to show Thomas.

And of course, being Thomas Jefferson, he leaned back, smirked, and said, “damn, angel, what else can that tongue do?”

Y/n’s mouth fell open. Her face heated up. She stumbled over her words until she settled on an offended, “Jefferson!”

And that stupid smile he wore when he knew he had gotten her all worked up and flustered made her think that he said it just to get a reaction out of her. The way he looked at her made her feel some kind of way, and she didn’t know if she never wanted to feel that way again, or if she never wanted to stop feeling that way.

“Don’t be gross,” she finally muttered, her eyes trailing the sand at her feet.

He chuckled, “sorry ‘bout that.”

Again, they fell into a silence. At some point Thomas started humming a tune that Y/n recognized as Under the Boardwalk. Fitting. A cold breeze reminded Y/n that it was still a chilling April day and the wind coming off the ocean wouldn’t let her forget that either.

“Do you want my coat?”

“What?” Had he read her mind?

“You’re visibly shivering.” Oh. “Do you want my coat?”

It’s not like Y/n hadn’t brought her own coat. She had, it was a pretty red color, but it didn’t keep the cold out well. Y/n hadn’t realized just how much colder it would be on Coney Island, but if she had thought about it for a second she would’ve known better. The problem was that when Thomas asked her to come with him and flashed her that charming smile, she didn’t think. So now she was cold.

“No. I shouldn’t—”

“Angel, can we just skip the whole pride thing? This doesn’t have to be some cliché moment where I give you my coat and it’s oversized on you and you look so cute so it’s worth it to me that I’m cold. Just take my coat, okay? You need it more than I do.”

Y/n blinked. “...okay.”

Thomas inched closer to her, shrugging the jacket off his shoulders. He wrapped the jacket around her, and then proceeded to change the course of their relationship forever. Instead of leaving the jacket on her shoulders and returning his hands to his side, his hands lingered.

If that hadn’t happened, maybe Y/n would’ve held the jacket tightly to herself. She’d be warm. They’d continue to have light conversation. Then they would go their separate ways. Maybe she’d see him at her dad’s office and they’d give friendly nods to each other when they passed in the hallways. They’d go make to being familiar strangers, and that would be perfectly fine.

But his hands lingered. And he knew what was happening. And she knew what was happening. The kind of linger that wouldn’t occur between two friends or any two people who were less than that. He was still holding her in his arms and showed no signs of letting her go. Y/n looked up from the sand and met his eyes.

I could tell you that she saw a universe or forever or something wonderful in his eyes, but let’s be real, they were a pair of eyes. A pair of beautiful eyes, sure, but they were just eyes. So it wasn’t his eyes that made her fall in love. It wasn’t his eyes that made her lean in and kiss him. It was simply the person she had spent the last few hours getting to know.

His lips were soft and tasted of cherries, and when he kissed her back, it was with a kind of gentleness and tenderness that Y/n hadn’t expected from Thomas.

All too soon, logic and sensibility kicked in. Y/n actually realized what she was doing, and while she didn’t want to stop, she couldn’t continue without better reasoning.

She pulled away, not having the heart to push him away after initiating the kiss. Her whole body felt hot, and it wasn’t due to the new coat she had recently acquired. Y/n’s heart began beating more than the average beat for minute, however fast that was, she couldn’t quite think properly about anything.

“Y/n—”

Why did her name on his lips sound so good all breathy and needy from the kiss? Was that even the right way to describe it? And why couldn’t she think about anything else except him?

“I need to go.” It wasn’t Y/n’s proudest moment, but she wasn’t able to think clearly around him, and that was dangerous in itself. Maybe she’d feel bad about leaving him behind with no explanation later, but she was a too much of a mess right now to even think of that.

She retraced her steps back up to the boardwalk (Thomas called after her a few times but ultimately let her go) and out onto the street. She got in an Uber -- or was it a taxi? Y/n couldn’t remember. The ride home seemed quicker when she was zoned out. At some point she had texted Peggy? The memory was hazy.

Even though there were people on the streets and her driver in the front seat, Y/n suddenly felt all alone. Alone with her... feelings. Her traitorous, uncontrollable feelings. Thomas had made her feel some kind of way that the only thing that could get it to stop was just to stop feeling altogether. And that wasn’t working well for her. Y/n sighed and opened up her phone.

A/N: Let me know if I forgot to tag you or if you’d like to be tagged.

tags: @wiffle-snuffles @thisistrashperson @comingupwithacoolnameishard @wordvomit-foryourmind @newtonslawoffuck @isharemydeathdaywithfeanor @i-know-i-can @imperial-martian @fangirling-central @dannighost @ateliefloresdaprimavera @justahappylilblog @fanfic-addict-98 @a-hopeless-fan @and-claudia @nicolemelton @youtxbemusic @reidcult @eirenism @fantasy-of-fiction @iamsuperconfusedallthetime-dead @a-midwinter-night-dream-86 @rycbar-221b @bethanymccauley @fanworrior @gggamingz @nemesis729 @ibeaesthethicc @yodas-padawan @sabbrriiinnaa @micaiahmoonheart @beautifulfound @moondustmemories @ct-salad @teenwaywardasgardian @bj-is-a-graduateof-julliard @ruebx @katierpblogg @speedypartyducksuitcase @fangirling-central @idkkbaleighh @ballerinafairyprincess @spn-pogues @gryffin-claw @elegantbutedgy @1elysium @sierraisnotreal @ssanjuniperoo @collectivefandom

#hamilton x reader #hamilton #hamilton imagine #lafayette x reader #hamilton fanfiction #lafayette imagine #daveed diggs #marquis de lafayette #daveed diggs x reader #thomas jefferson x reader #thomasjefferson #thomas jefferson imagine

336 notes · View notes

rhysismydaddy · 4 years

Text

Inmate Intimacy pt. 3 (Nessian)

Here’s the final part! I’ll be working on some asks in my box next :)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Masterlist

______________________________________________________________

~Cassian~

As soon as the phone clicked through, Cassian told his best friend, “Get me the hell out of here.”

“Hello to you, too, asshat,” Rhysand grumbled. “You realize you’re calling me at seven in the morning?”

“I don’t dictate when phone privileges are,” Cassian practically growled back.

He knew he should be a little grateful Rhys had even taken his case for free, but right now he couldn’t care less.

If he didn’t get released soon, he was bound to do something amazingly stupid with Nesta which she’d probably come to regret. And he couldn’t have her regretting their first time together.

So he felt perfectly justified as he yelled, “Get your ass out of bed and get me out of here!”

A pause.

Then Rhys asked, perfectly calm, “Did someone make you their bitch or something?”

Yes.

“No. There’s just a- just figure something out, man.” He let a little of the sexual frustration and overall desperation seep into his voice. “Please.”

A heavy sigh. “Well, I was going to just surprise you, but since you’re yelling at me, you’re getting released tomorrow, jackass.”

Cassian couldn’t help himself from shouting, “What the fuck!”

Another sigh. “I was just going to come get you. Should be tonight at like six.”

Serotonin and pure fucking happiness shot through him like a bullet, and he laughed. “That’s perfect.”

“Something tells me you don’t want me to pick you up.”

“Your intuition,” he told his friend seriously, “is astounding. Thanks, man. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m amazing. I’m going back to sleep.”

The line went dead, and he laughed again. He’d been prepared for another week or something, but tonight? In less than twelve hours? Hell, yes.

Still grinning like a complete dumbass, he turned and strode down the hallway, starting to think about his plan for the evening.

~Nesta~

Today had been a long day.

No, strike that. Today had been the longest day of her life.

Besides an early visit from Inmate #9356--during which they somehow managed to keep their hands off each other--nothing exciting had happened.

Actually, her appointment with Cassian had even been pretty boring. He’d come in for all of two minutes for his shot and had stared at her with the biggest, most obnoxious grin on his face the whole time. As soon as she’d given him a cotton ball, he’d hopped off the table, slapped a kiss to her cheek, and disappeared.

Weird, but the man wasn’t exactly normal.

Checking her watch, she noticed it was time to get out of here.

Fucking finally.

A hot bath and a huge glass of wine were practically calling her name.

After quickly changing from her scrubs into jeans and a sweatshirt, she headed towards the exit. She nodded at the guard, getting a little confused when he winked and wagged his eyebrows but figuring it was probably just her imagination.

But when the front gate slowly swung open, revealing who stood in the parking lot, everything clicked into place.

Cassian was leaning against a jet black muscle car, arms crossed over his chest, smiling at her.

If that wasn’t an indicator that he’d been released, his change of attire sure as hell was. He was in dark jeans, boots, and a tight black t-shirt that clung to him and showcased his build. His tattoos were on full display, and his curly hair was down for once, blowing softly in the wind.

In short, he looked like every dream Nesta had ever had in her life stuffed into one human being.

She walked up to him, suddenly well aware she probably looked like garbage next to him, and said, “You know, it’s probably not wise to hang around after breaking out of prison.”

He just laughed and extended a hand to her, the silent demand clear.

Nesta walked into his arms, put her head against his chest, and smiled happily. Without even looking, she could tell he was mimicking the expression.

“I got released, baby,” he finally said, pulling back to run a thumb over her cheek. “So I figured I’d take you up on your very generous offer to let me buy you a drink.”

“I’m in jeans and a sweatshirt,” she told him, shaking her head. “I’m not going anywhere nice.”

“You always look beautiful.”

She rolled her eyes, hiding a smile behind her hand. Cassian stepped away from the car and opened the door for her. “Let’s go.”

Too easy. “Wow, getting the door for me? The system really helped reform you, didn’t it?”

He stuck his tongue out at her like the very mature gentleman he was. “Just get in the car. Please.”

“Such good manners, too,” she murmured as she gave in and slid in the passenger seat.

Snuggling down into the surprisingly comfortable seat, she noticed how the smell she’d associated with him--smoke and earth and honey--was amplified in here. Gods, he smelled good.

She inhaled deeply, blushing when Cassian settled in next to her and noticed. He gave her a satisfied smile and cranked the car up.

“Where are we going?”

“We’re going on a very fancy, very formal date to my favorite bar,” he said with a grin. Then he suddenly looked at her with a nervous glance, “You’re not a vegetarian, are you?”

The way he said vegetarian made it sound like martian.

She shook her head. A burger actually sounded pretty great right about now.

Twenty minutes later, said burger was placed in front of her, along with a beer and a huge container of fries.

And if you thought her side of the table was fattening, Cassian’s was a hundred times worse.

Nesta picked up her burger and started to eat, watching the man across from her and trying to suppress a smile. She’d never thought anyone eating would be funny, but that was before she’d seen a former inmate taste something besides not-really-meat-meatloaf in a month.

He finished off his first burger and grabbed the second, a happy little smile on his face.

“You eat like a crazy person,” she told him.

Golden eyes flashed up to hers. “Fuck like one, too.”

She choked on her fry, hiding it behind a cough. To change the subject, she asked, “So what do you do? When you’re not in prison, of course.”

“Such a funny woman.” He rolled his eyes. “I do a lot of random stuff, like occasionally work at my friend Azriel’s bar, but mostly I’m a trainer.”

“Makes sense.”

The look in his eye said he knew, but he asked, “Why?”

She rolled her eyes. “You either eat small children for breakfast or work out a lot.”

“What about you?”

Giving him a look, she replied, “I’m a nurse, Cassian.”

“I know, smartass. But what about when you’re not working?”

“I read a lot.” And watch reality shows. “And I run sometimes.”

He stole some fries off her plate and asked, “What were you going to do tonight? Before you got swept off your feet by a handsome criminal?”

“My feet are still on the ground,” she assured him with a smirk. “I was going to take a bath and drink a lot of wine. Very exciting life I live, I know.”

Suddenly, he was on his feet, throwing a couple bills on the table. “Well, let’s go. I’d hate to disrupt your evening further.”

Even though she knew that was a flat-out lie, she took his outstretched hand and followed him back to his car. “Where to now?”

“My apartment.”

“How presumptuous,” she commented, even though she got in without argument.

“Not for that reason, you pervert,” he said with a dramatic eye roll. “I’m just trying to show you I have somewhere to live with more than four walls.”

“Mmhm.”

He grinned, reaching over to put a hand on her thigh. Unable to help it, she traced the lines of his tattoo, down each finger, over his hand, up his forearm.

“Nesta,” he murmured, voice a little deeper. “Stop distracting me.”

You know when someone tells you not to do something, and it only makes you want to do it more?

Well, that’s what happened.

Or maybe it was just the fact that she couldn’t control herself around him.

Either way, she didn’t listen.

Gripping his hand, she brought it up to her face, then drew one of his fingers into her mouth.

His knuckles went white around the steering wheel, jaw clenched, and his eyes glared at the car in front of them as if that would make it move.

She released his finger, only to lean across the center console and press herself into his arm. She kissed his ear, then tugged on it with her teeth.

He continued to drive, silent and broody, as she moved down to his neck. There was something about the way his skin felt against her lips that drove her insane.

She dragged her tongue up the column of his neck, smiling when he released a low groan.

But after about ten more seconds, he snapped. “Alright, you either sit in your seat like a good girl or I pull this car over and bend you over the hood.”

Nesta kissed the side of his mouth. “Is that supposed to be a threat?”

He growled and pressed the gas pedal a little harder, so she relented and slid back to her side with a smile. His hand went back to her thigh, gripping more tightly this time.

Finally, he pulled up in front of a nice apartment building and threw the car in park. Before she could even move to get out of the car, he’d sprinted around, thrown her door open, and scooped her up.

“In a hurry?” she teased, secretly urging him to walk faster.

He pinched her behind. “Yes.”

Cassian carried her through the lobby and into an elevator, then down a hall and into his apartment. Or rather, through his apartment.

He immediately strode through the kitchen and living room, then tossed her onto his bed. Before she could take a look around at her surroundings, he was prowling on top of her, lips finding hers.

Normally, she’d be opposed to someone acting like this, but it had been a month of being so close to him, forced to look at him every day without doing what she wanted.

And he was finally free, and it was finally happening.

So she pulled him closer, sliding her hands under the back of his shirt.

He reached over his head and yanked it off, then did the same with her sweatshirt. His mouth went to her neck as his hands snuck behind her back, and then her bra was on their growing pile of clothes on the floor.

Her back arched as he moved his attention to her breasts, and she let out a moan that was loud enough to make her very, very glad they hadn’t done this in her office.

Then he was kissing her again, and she lost herself in him. His tongue slid in her mouth, caressing hers, and he sucked on her lip in the most distracting way.

Her legs wrapped around his waist, holding him tight to her, and she giggled as he reared back, picked her up, and moved them higher on the bed.

Cassian took her wrists from around his neck and pressed them into the mattress above her head, then kissed her softly. “Do you trust me?”

Normally, a question like that would make her run for the hills, but somehow she found herself replying, “Yes.”

He gave her that insufferably cocky grin, then moved his hand, and-

Oh my gods.

No, he didn’t!

Nesta looked up at the handcuff encircling her wrist, mouth hanging open in shock. She was so distracted she couldn’t even fight as he trapped the other, leaving her powerless underneath him.

“Cassian.”

He ran his fingers lightly down both her arms, and goosebumps appeared in his wake. “Funny feeling, isn’t it?”

“Let me loose.”

He just cocked his head, dark hair slipping over his brow. “Is that what you really want?”

She considered that.

It was what she wanted, right? Right?

Not in the fucking slightest, her brain informed her helpfully.

Shit.

“You did it to me, after all,” he reasoned, hands moving to splay over her ribs, fingers barely brushing the underside of her breasts. “Consider it payback.”

This was absolutely insane.

She didn’t point out that he’d been handcuffed by her for all of ten seconds. Instead, she did something incredibly stupid and said, “I guess it’s alright, then.”

He smiled broadly, hands going to the button on her jeans and snapping it open. Nesta’s breath hitched, but she managed to keep eye contact with him as he slowly pulled her pants down, taking her underwear with them.

He sat back on his heels, looking her over with dark golden eyes, and she squirmed.

Then, after pressing one more kiss to her lips, he slid down the bed and moved her legs over his shoulders.

Oh, gods.

She stared into his golden eyes, unable to move even without the cuffs, as he slowly lowered his mouth to her and placed a single, soft kiss against her skin.

Then he winked like the insufferable bastard he was, leaned down further, and got serious about what he was doing.

Nesta’s back arched, her arms pulling helplessly against the cuffs. Cassian gripped her hips, keeping her still, and she was utterly powerless underneath him as he continued to work her.

She’d never given control like this to anyone. Generally, she didn’t let her guard down around men, even when they were on top of her. But something about the man kneeling between her legs made her throw all of her rules out the window and just let him do what he wanted.

And she fucking loved it.

One of his hands continued to hold her hips, the other sneaked up across her stomach, over her breasts, and up her throat.

A finger traced her lips, and she parted them under his touch. Cassian made a deep, approving sound as she drew it into her mouth, sucking softly.

Then he pulled the hand away, trailing it back down her body, and moved it between her thighs.

She moaned his name and squirmed, noticing how the metal around her wrists clanked against the headboard.

“You taste so fucking good,” he murmured against her, making her moan again. She could feel the pressure building up inside her, and as if he could sense it, too, Cassian added another finger.

Release finally found her, making breath leave in a harsh whoosh, but he kept working her until the waves had ebbed and she was limp underneath him.

He pulled back, looking up at her with golden eyes that were heavy with lust. Dragging his tongue across his bottom lip, he smiled and made a self-satisfied, male sound.

If she was being honest, he deserved to.

What he’d done hadn’t been new to her in the slightest, but it had never felt... quite like that. She’d never come from that before, and the realization made her mutter, “I was right. You do eat like a crazy person.”

Cassian prowled up her body, dropping searing kisses occasionally, and then tugged on her bottom lip with his teeth. “And do you remember what I said back?”

Fuck like one, too.

She nodded.

“I think it’s time I prove that.” Gods, please, yes. “Do you want me to take these off?” He rattled the handcuffs.

Surprising herself, and probably him too, she shook her head.

For some reason, being underneath him, subject to whatever he wanted to do, made her lose her mind in the best way possible.

His eyes went almost black as he grinned and said, “I’m going to fucking marry you one day.”

Nesta rolled her eyes and laughed, but it was cut short by the sight of him leaning back to unbutton his jeans. Once he’d pulled them off, allowing her to take in the full sight of him, her mouth went a little dry.

“You keep looking at me like that, and this will be over before it even starts,” he warned, voice husky with need.

She forced herself to look back up at his gaze, and he moved to brace himself on his elbows above her. Nesta leaned up to kiss him, then watched his brow furrow in concentration as one hand snuck between them.

Her eyes drifted shut as he started to slide in, but he paused and said, “Keep your eyes open. I want you to see what you do to me.”

Even though it felt impossible, she opened them again and did what he asked. His jaw was tight, shoulders and arms stiff as he held himself above her, body seeming to teem with pent up energy as he let her adjust.

He looked... helpless.

She was the one in cuffs, but he looked utterly helpless against whatever he was feeling.

“Now you see why I was in a hurry,” he gruffed.

And then he started to move.

At the first push of his hips, Nesta realized it might have been a mistake to keep her wrists bound. She pulled against them instinctively as he moved, the knowledge that she couldn’t touch him messing with her mind.

A low groan tore out of his throat, and she almost came from the sound alone.

“Fuck, Nesta.”

He kissed her, lips hard and demanding and perfect against hers. A hand lifted her lips slightly, causing him to hit a different spot inside her, and she moaned into his mouth. “Right there. Oh, gods, please.”

It was the first time she’d ever asked him for something, and to say he delivered would be the understatement of the century.

His hips pounded into her, exactly in the spot that drove her crazy, and she barely had time to move hers in rhythm before the next attack came.

He dipped his head to kiss her throat, sucking at the spot where it met her shoulder, and she came with a loud groan, eyes rolling back in her head a little.

Cassian didn’t stop, though.

He didn’t so much as slow down.

It seemed as if a month in prison had built up just a little sexual frustration, and he was taking it all out on her at once.

He braced a hand on her leg, then threw it over her shoulder, going deeper still. “Oh, fuck,” she groaned.

Her legs started to shake as the buildup inside of her grew and grew and grew.

“Nesta,” he panted, picking up his pace a little. “Come for me.”

The sound of his voice did it for her, and she fell over the edge with a loud cry, this time dragging him with her. His eyes drifted shut, and his mouth collapsed against her as he groaned.

Then he stilled on top of her, both of them breathing heavily.

After a few moments, he pulled back and surveyed her face with wide eyes. “Are you okay?”

I probably won’t be able to walk for a week. She nodded, unable to even form the words to explain how she felt at the moment. “That was...”

“Yeah,” he agreed, shaking his head.

They continued to stare at each other, both lost for words. Then he reached up, and a moment later her hands were free. She brought them to his face, brushing his hair back.

He frowned at the red skin around her wrists, rolling over and out of the bed before she could tell him they didn’t even hurt.

She heard the rush of water, and a few minutes later, he came back with a smile.

Cassian scooped her into his arms, carried her into his bathroom, and deposited her in the tub.

The tub that was full of warm, bubbly water.

A fat glass of wine was in her hand a second later.

“Well, you did say you didn’t want to disrupt my evening.”

He grabbed his own glass, then climbed in the tub across from her. Part of her wondered why the hell he had a bathtub this big, and she would’ve asked if it hadn’t been for the sight of him sitting across from her.

Bubbles clung to his chest, stark against his tattoos. His hair was wet from the hand he dragged through it, and he had a soft, happy smile on his lips.

He cocked his head as she stared at him, taking a sip from his glass. “I like the way you look at me.”

Nesta blushed. “How do I look at you?”

A smile. “Like you want to handcuff me and have your way with me.”

She bit her lip to keep herself from smiling. “Well, it is your turn.”

______________________________________________________________

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argylemnwrites · 3 years

Text

Settled

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x MC (Cassie Vanderfield); Roomies (+ Bryce and Rafael) friendship also featured

Book: Open Heart (~5 weeks post book 2)

Word Count: ~1400

Rating: PG-13 (rare language)

Summary: A long standing bet is about to be settled.

Author’s Note: Inspiration for this piece comes from a real experience in my undergrad dorm. It also works as a loose follow up to my pieces “Enough” and “Some Definition.” Also written for Day 28 of the @choicesfebchallenge - Closure.

Bryce felt his eyes getting heavy in spite of the early hour and the movie playing across the room. He had just come off a night float block, serving both as the senior resident overnight for the three gen surg wards and completing any ED surgical consults that came in from 5 pm to 7 am. Even though he’d only had to work 18 shifts over the past 28 days, each shift had been frantic, often with barely enough down time to inhale a sandwich. On top of that, he’d basically hadn’t gotten a chance to see the inside of the OR at all. The senior carrying the trauma pager usually got all the overnight cases, since there weren’t many non-traumas that went to the OR in the middle of the night. For the few remaining cases, unless it was a particularly complex case, the attendings usually prioritized letting the interns covering the wards overnight gain some experience. As an intern, Bryce had loved that culture in Edenbrook, but now that he was on the other side, he felt a bit jealous, even if he knew it wasn’t fair.

He was just kind of burnt out, if he had to put a label on things. He’d felt more like an internal med resident for most of the block, something Cassie had teased him about endlessly. But he just didn’t find the work as rewarding as actually operating, the shifts were exhausting, and now, almost a full week off of that block, he was still working to adjust his sleep schedule back to days. Hence him falling asleep in the middle of an action movie at Cassie’s with her roommates and Raf at 6 pm.

“Is he out?” he heard Sienna hiss out, obviously whispering in case he was asleep, forgetting that fact that her voice was far quieter than the explosions currently happening on screen.

“No, he’s not,” Bryce whispered back, drawing a chuckle and a little elbow nudge from Cassie. He dragged his eyes back open to find her turned to face him on the sectional, so he gave her a little grin before he dropped his head to her shoulder and closed his eyes again. “But he might be soon.”

“Seriously?” asked Raf, his voice drifting up from the floor where he and Aurora were lounging in front of the coffee table. “I didn’t think you’d be one to sleep through the latest Tommy Phelps blockbuster.”

“Lahela is a little baby who is still whining about the fact that he was on nights a week ago.” Jackie’s voice was the next one to fill the room. “Or maybe he has the right idea and is done with this dumb garbage. Why did I get up early for this again?”

“Because we only have one year left where we are all going to be in Boston for sure, and times where we are all off for a movie are rare!” Sienna cried out. Bryce felt Cassie shift slightly, presumably reaching over to hold Sienna’s hand or rub her back, but she didn’t move so much that his head was more than slightly jostled on her shoulder.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean we had to watch this. Elijah, you don’t get to pick for movie night ever again.” Jackie added.

“Hey, I know my selections aren’t always the most popular, but this wasn’t me!”

“Alright, then who is responsi-”

“It was my pick,” said Aurora. Bryce squinted an eye open at that, glancing down to Aurora, who had twisted around to face Jackie. “What can I say? Sometimes I just need to turn my brain off and watch some shlock.”

“It’s better with a beer,” Raf said with a shrug, before lifting his bottle to his lips and taking a drink.

“Well, I have to head in for a shift in a couple of hours, so that’s not an option for me,” Jackie said, “so I might have to take a page out of Bryce’s book and just nap.”

Bryce swung his foot towards her as he let his eyes close again, nudging her shin. “Shut up, Varma.”

“What? I’m not mocking you.”

“Sure.”

“I mean, there is plenty for me to mock you for always, but right now I’m not. Avoiding this movie and using Cassie as a pillow is one of your smarter choices.”

“I’m not using her as a human pillow. This is just part of boyfriend privileges, right Cass?”

“Absolutely,” Cassie said, but the room got suddenly very quiet as the explosions and gunfire came to an abrupt halt.

“Why’d you pause the movie?” asked Cassie, but no one answered her. Instead, Aurora asked a different question.

“Elijah, you still got the calendar?”

“Yup, lemme pull it up. I’m pretty sure everyone’s date has already passed, though.”

“What are you guys talking about?”

The room was silent for a few moments, so Bryce opened his eyes and dragged his head off of Cassie’s shoulder, glancing around the room and taking in everyone aggressively avoiding eye contact with him and Cassie. “Seriously, what’s going on?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, it’s not that bid a deal,” Jackie said with an eye roll. “We had a bet on when you guys would officially be together.”

It took Bryce a couple of seconds to process what she’d said. “Wait, seriously?” he asked with a chuckle.

“It was Elijah’s who organized it,” said Raf, earning him a pillow in the face from Elijah.

“Hey, man!”

“What, it’s the truth?”

“When did you guys start this?” Cassie asked. She was twisting her fingers over each other in her lap, so Bryce slid his right hand in between hers, tugging her left hand over into his lap.

“Elijah took my bet the day after the Hopeful Hearts Gala,” said Aurora, “and I think I was the first one to pick a date. After Elijah, obviously.”

“Wait, this has been going on for months?” Bryce asked.

“Well, you two have been all over each other for years,” said Jackie.

“And you were all in on this? Even you, Sienna?” asked Cassie as she glanced around the room from person to person.

Bryce leaned forward to peer around Cassie. Sienna cheeks were flushed, but she didn’t shy away from looking at the two of them.

“I mean, I was rooting for you two! Plus, Elijah had a PowerPoint which made it all feel so official! And, I don’t know, we’ve all been waiting for you guys to-”

“What she means is we’ve all had to put up with your obnoxious flirting for far too long to not have a bit of fun,” Jackie said, cutting off Sienna’s ramble. However, one thing Sienna said stuck out to him, and apparently to Cassie.

“Elijah, you made a PowerPoint?” she asked, her free hand coming up to her cheek.

It was Elijah’s turn to have his cheeks darken, but he just gave a little shrug. “Like Jackie said, this has been a long time coming. And I was bored in allergy clinic.”

“It was quite the presentation,” said Raf.

“Yeah, we’re gonna need to see that,” added Bryce, shooting Cassie a wink as she shook her head lightly.

“I don’t know if I still have it.” Elijah answered just a little too quickly, making Bryce think he very much did still have it and had no intention of showing it to them. But before he could push him on that, Jackie asked Elijah another question.

“So, quit stalling. Who’s the winner?”

Elijah just shook his head. “Like I said, we all lost. Brittany was the last date, and even hers passed last month.”

“Wait, you got the gen surg residents involved in this as well?” Bryce asked.

“We’ve all been subjected to your prolonged and public teasing,” said Jackie, raising an eyebrow as if daring him to fight her on that statement.

“I mean, I know we’re a good looking couple, but this level of fascination is beyond what even I could have expected.” Bryce’s statement drew groans from almost everyone in the room and pillows chucked at him by Raf, Aurora, and Jackie, but all he could do was squeeze Cassie’s hand before snuggling up against her again, settling in for the end of the movie… and likely a little nap. Their friends could tease them all they wanted. They were happy, and that was all that really mattered.

Permatag: @choicesficwriterscreations @walkerswhiskeygirl @octobereighth @kimmiedoo5 @mom2000aggie

Open Heart: @mskaneko @omgjasminesimone @debramcg1106

Bryce x MC: @lahellacute @weaving-in-words @anotherbeingsworld @chaotichuman0090 @fortunatelywaywardsandwich @dreaming-of-movies @choicesarehard @srta-give-me-my-jax-rl @sunnyxdazed

#choicesfebruarychallenge2021 #choicesfebchallengeday28 #bryce x mc #bryce lahela #open heart fanfiction #choices fanfiction

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