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amane-by-together · 3 years

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Okay idea!!

How about a Hanako x tsundere reader oneshot where Yashiro tells Hanako that the reader likes him and he likes her too. He confronts her about it and she is a blushing mess but denies it. Hanako knows that she likes him so he pins her and kisses her until she says she loves him.

Like *kiss* “say you love me~”

“No meanie..!”

Heehee, I hoped I explained that well enough… a little fluffy and spicy plzzz

Blushing Mess || Hanako-kun

genre: fluff

pairing: hanako-kun x tsundere! female! reader

warning: lots of kisses (◍•ᴗ•◍)

summary: in which hanako tries to break [name]'s tsundere persona to make her confess her love for him by kissing her.

Hanako notices [Name]’s strange behavior whenever he’s around her. When he tries to check her out, [Name] will blush and scoot away from him as she points at him and says. “W-What the hell do you think you’re doing you perv?!” Followed by a punch on his face. One time Hanako tried to tease her, the same blush would appear on her cheeks, and [Name] would call him an idiot for messing with her.

[Name] was minding her own business, mopping the bathroom floor, cleaning the toilets, spraying the mirrors with water, and then wiping them up. Hanako walks up behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder and pointing a finger at a foggy spot on one of the mirrors. “You missed a spot.” he chuckled.

“I-I know that I was about to wipe it, stupid.” [Name] scoffed, wiping the spot with the cloth she was holding. Hanako puts his hand on his mouth, his pointer finger touching his nose, then silently chuckles at her response. [Name] pouted slightly, realizing that Hanako was only doing that to catch her off guard.

The [hair color] haired girl finishes up her cleaning, wiping off the sweat rolling down from her forehead. “Man, that took longer than I thought.” [Name] says in an unamused tone as she squeezes out the stored water from the cloth. She turns her head towards Hanako’s direction, a stoic expression written on her pretty visuals. “Oi, I’m finished.”

“Good work, [Name]~” Hanako floated over to his assistant and patted her on the head. [Name]’s eyes were twitching in annoyance, but deep down she’s loving the praise that Hanako was giving her, especially when he’s patting her head like that. She lowered her head, twiddling her fingers as her whole face was heating up. “Your ears were turning red by the way~” He said, touching her ears gently.

“H-Hey!” [Name] stammered out, grabbing Hanako’s hand and yanking it away. She enclosed her reddened ears using her hands, turning away from the teasing male who's now snickering nearby. "J-Jeez, Hanako-kun…"

"Hehe, cutie…" Hanako smirked.

"I-I'm not a cutie, excuse you!" [Name] retorted, crossing her arms and flipped her hair to the side. Her flustered gaze averted from the apparition boy. "And stop teasing me you slimy perverted brat or else," she murmured under her breath. At that moment she looks so done with Hanako’s mischievous antics she could smack the hell out of him.

“Or else what~?” Hanako took her hand on top of his and pulled [Name] closer to him, enveloping an arm around her waist, and grinned at their current position. “Hmm~” he hummed, leaning in a little bit as the tip of their noses were touching.

[Name] was malfunctioning and her poor heart was beating so fast. Without saying anything, she gently shoved Hanako away from her and hugged herself. Hanako obviously enjoyed seeing [Name] all red and flustered because of him. “Why hug yourself?” He asked, embracing her from behind as she squeaked. “If you can be in my arms all day~?” Hanako whispered, gently blowing her ear to tease and his lips slightly grazing to her earlobe.

“You really are a stubborn idiot...” [Name] balled her fist and gave Hanako an uppercut as he was launched backward, hitting him on the back of his head.

“O-Ow…” Hanako rubbed the back of his head in pain, even though he’s a ghost and cannot feel pain. “You don’t have to be so rough with me, you know.” He said, standing up from the floor and laughed sheepishly. [Name] patted her cheeks to ease down her blush, then finally composed herself and faced Hanako.

“I thought ghosts don’t feel pain?”

“Well, our souls are linked together, remember?”

“Right…”

[Name] marched over to Hanako as he was rubbing his head to soothe the pain. She felt bad for punching him, if only he has a sense of personal space. “Here, let me...” [Name] swatted his hand away and removed his hat, her free hand ruffling his soft hair.

Hanako is a bit surprised by the sudden change of behavior. He noticed her cheeks turning red up close, knowing that [Name] is not used to do this kind of kind of thing. He slightly blushed when their eyes met. “D-Don't get the wrong idea.” [Name] murmured. “I'm not doing this because I like you or anything—”

“M-Mhmm...” Hanako hummed in reply.

“Honestly, Hanako-kun...” [Name] sighed, placing his hat back on his head properly. “You should watch your actions, I don't want to assume anything.”

[Name] picks up her bag and slung it over to her back. “I'll see you tomorrow.” She announced, walking out of the bathroom with a bitter tone.

Yashiro enters the bathroom just as [Name] left completely. “Hanako-kun, did you do something to [Name]?” She asked with concern, hoping that the ghost didn't do harsh things with her.

“I was just being clingy with her until she just said to watch my actions—” Hanako explained, trying to reason with Yashiro with his side of the story. The choppy haired male is utterly confused with [Name] lately, is she just being mean with Hanako or she's just being a tsundere?

Yashiro nodded, finally understanding the situation. “There's something between the lines Yashiro,” Hanako started venting with matching movements with his hands as he paced back and forth. “I found [Name]'s denial funny, saying that she hates it yet the blush on her face was obvious that she likes it. Then there's her physically hitting me as I try to flirt with her—”

“She likes you.” Yashiro said.

“And then [Name] starts to stutter when I compliment her—I'm sorry what?” Hanako stopped when he heard Yashiro say something about [Name] liking him.

“I said [Name] likes you.”

Hanako smiled ear to ear, trying to contain his giddiness. He was in love with [Name] ever since and hearing this good news made his day better. “You're not joking, right?”

“Come on Hanako-kun, [Name]-chan is literally blushing at your actions and you didn't get the hint of her having a crush on you! Think Hanako-kun, think about it!” Yashiro puts her hands on the sides of her head to prove that she's not joking. “Why do you think she's a tsundere around you?”

“I guess I'll confirm it myself tomorrow~” Hanako grinned, adjusting his hat.

Hanako plans to confront [Name] about his feelings for him to confirm whether Yashiro was just joking around or it is indeed true.

“[Name]~?” Hanako called in a sing-song voice. The tsundere gripped on her mop and let out a scowl, turning her head towards the ghost's direction.

“What?” She asked.

Hanako smirked slyly on her way, placing his cheek on top of his palm and said. “I heard from a reliable source that you like me~”

[Name] flinched, dropping the mop on the floor and blushed furiously. “W-What?!” She exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger to the teasing ghost. “Who the hell told you that?!”

“So it's true then~?” Hanako grinned.

“W-Wha?” [Name] swatted her hands, turning into a blushing mess. “O-Of course not! Why the hell would I like you?!” Her voice was shaking a bit, trying to make him change his mind. Hanako chuckled deeply, hopping off from the window seat and walked towards her.

“Why are you blushing then~?” [Name] nervously stepped back when Hanako got closer and closer to her. There's no point of denying things anymore, [Name]'s blushing reaction was already a proof that she likes Hanako. “You love me, don't you~?”

[Name] remained silent, her eyes avoiding Hanako's gaze and her signature blush on her visuals. Hanako places his forearm above her head as if to trap her in a kabedon. He grabs her chin using his thumb and pointer finger, tilting it slightly to make [Name] look at him. “My eyes are over here, sweetheart~”

“You really are enjoying this, huh?” [Name] mumbled, her eyes turning soft whilst looking at Hanako, her headstrong facade slowly breaks as she is facing him with her true self. Usually, [Name] would kick him out but for now she isn't doing anything.

“Yeah, actually.” Hanako responded, gently caressing her bottom lip using his thumb. “I wonder how long would it take for you to admit that you love me~?”

[Name]'s [eye color] eyes widened in shock when she felt Hanako's lips connect with hers. The feeling was sweet and soft as butterflies in her stomach fluttered gently in a euphoric manner. Hanako pulls away with a smile. “C'mon~ say you love me~” He urged.

“Shut up, as if...” [Name] grumbled. Hanako kisses her again, this time it was a little longer than before. [Name] moved his hat away from his head and placed it on the ground while he was kissing her.

“I like you too, you know...” Hanako says in between kisses. [Name] pulls away slightly, catching her breath from their intimacy.

“Fine, I l-love you...” [Name] confessed, feeling sour now that Hanako was winning over her.

“I love you too~”

a/n: here's your request anon-san~ sorry if its late though, i hope you enjoy this oneshot, this goes for everyone too (◍•ᴗ•◍)❤

#jibaku shounen hanako kun #tbhk #toilet bound hanako kun #jshk #amane yugi #yugi amane #amane #amane yugi x reader #hanako x reader #yugi amane x reader #hanako kun #hanako #hanako kun x reader #jshk hanako kun #jshk hanako #tbhk hanako

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manonblaqkbeak · 3 years

Text

Surrounded by Warmth

(again i hate title names lol)

something short and sweet for days 21 and 22.

cw: none

enjoy!!

1k words

Aelin woke up surrounded by warmth. The furnace that was her mate had an arm wrapped around her shoulder and the little ball of warmth that was their daughter in-between them had Aelin wishing that they could spend all day in bed to avoid the autumn chill, but it was Saturday and Aelin and Rowan promised Elentiya-Fenrys that they would go into town to visit the markets and shops.

And there was another reason why Aelin couldn't spend all day in bed; her bladder was about to burst. But getting out of bed was no easy feat, not as the movement woke up Elentiya and her little hand reached out and grabbed Aelin's arm, muttering “No, mama, stay.”

“I'll be back in a minute,” Aelin said, hoping that would placate her daughter, but it didn't work. Shaking her head wildly and pouting, Aelin added, “Do you want to join me?”

That got her out of bed, excitedly pushing the quilt back, causing Rowan to stir lightly, but her husband did not wake up, making Aelin happy that he was comfortable enough to know that even in sleep, things were okay.

After finishing her business which Elentiya had taken the time to ask why did Aelin pee so loudly?—that she definitely heard Rowan laughing at—Aelin washed her and Elentiya's faces, and put on a fresh diaper, since toilet training was going about as well as teaching a dog to flush a toilet, Elentiya pointed at the little tambourine that her daughter picked out the last time they were in the music shop. She couldn't really play it properly, which made sense since Elentiya was barely two, but she liked the sound that the zills made and the thumping of the drum head when Elentiya banged her fist against it.

Hugging Elentiya close to her, Aelin decided that it was too early to get up and that more sleep was absolutely necessary, and she knew that her daughter wouldn't object to that idea at all, not as she clung to Aelin and tucked her head against her mother's neck. Kissing the top of her daughter's messy head, Aelin climbed back into bed, going back into Rowan's open arm and resting her head on his shoulder.

Elentiya climbed over her father, the zills ringing out at the movement and just as Aelin was going to close her eyes, Elentiya shouted, “Good morning, papa!” and bonked him on the face with the tambourine not once, or twice, but three times.

Everything went absolutely still for a long moment, and Aelin knew that she should reprimand her daughter, but what came out of Aelin wasn't that at all, but a booming laugh that echoed throughout the chamber as Rowan just furrowed his brow at his own daughter's unique way of saying “good morning”.

Aelin buried her face in her pillow, trying to calm herself down. Rowan's magic pinched at her ear in retaliation, even as he calmly explained to Elentiya that what she didn't wasn't very nice, even if mama did find it funny. Aelin did her best to explain that she was coughing and not laughing to her daughter, but it didn't have the desired affect, with Elentiya laughing along, their daughter's laughter one of her favourite sounds in the world—it was pure joy, the very essence of life and it always struck Aelin when it came so freely, when in her own childhood, once she was in the hands of Arobynn, laughter was rare.

Rowan mumbled underneath his breath, something about how his hair was going to turn white from their antics. Aelin reached over and kissed him on the cheek, silently apologising as she finally calmed down.

Reaching over, Aelin took Elentiya back into her arms, her daughter smiling as she burrowed in-between them once more.

All was quiet while everyone got comfortable, and again, just as Aelin's eyes were shutting, Elentiya asked sweetly, “Papa sing? Please?”

“Yes, papa should definitely sing, shouldn't he?” Aelin said, because he rarely did it and she loved how deep and romantic his voice sounded when he showed them his gift. He almost always sung in the Old Language, the words weaving a story in the air, even if Aelin's grasp on the language was still shoddy at best.

And Aelin knew that maybe she shouldn't be asking for this, that it might look like she was rewarding Elentiya's bad behaviour, but her daughter was young and she would grow and it wasn't like it was the first time she did something she shouldn't. That was just how children were.

Rowan opened his mouth, but Aelin cut him off saying, “And it'll be good for the babe, to hear your voice.” Even though the little life inside of her was only a couple of months old, Aelin liked to think that even in the earliest stages, they somehow knew who Aelin and Rowan were their parents.

“Please?” Elentiya asked again, unaware that she was about to be a big sister in several months, because in her little mind, she was the baby. And she always would be to her parents, even when she was grown with a life of her own.

Rowan relented, because he could never really say 'no' to his daughter, so he tugged them closer and closed his eyes and started to sing.

It was beautiful, and one of Elentiya's favourites, a story about a woman exploring the world and finding herself, the song was more like an epic poem that Elentiya never heard the ending off as she always fell asleep, comforted by her father's voice as the lyrics flowed through him as steady as a river and as Aelin started to fall asleep, her hand drifted to her flat belly, and hoped that the little life inside of her heard it too.

The last thing she felt before she fell asleep was the soft touch of Rowan's lips on her cheek.

Aelin slept with a smile on her face and surrounded by the loving warmth of her family once again.

#this is short bc i have no idea how toddlers talk lol #rowaelin #rowaelinmonth #my work

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watermelonlovershigh · 3 years

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I don’t know if your accepting prompts or anything but could you do Harry as a single parent to a teenage daughter and she starts her period and has to go to him for help? Btw I love your writing and hope you’re having an amazing day!!!

Harrys Daughter Gets Her First Period

(Harry has 3 kids/Teddy age 5, Olivia age 8, and Darcy age 12)

Back story-

Harry was a single parent. Well his kids have a mum, but she's a famous actress in Hollywood, and she and Harry have been divorced for years now. While she's away from London filming a movie in Los Angeles, Harry has been keeping their three kids at his London home. He doesn't tour as much as he used to so he has a lot more free time on his hands. That means he can spend some quality time with his children. He loves it. He loves his kids with every fiber in his body. He regrets not being able to spend more time with them when they were younger, but being a popstar requires a lot of traveling. So unfortunately, he was on the road most of their childhood. Now in his late 30s, he stays home a lot more but of course he still writes and sings music. He just doesn't tour those songs unless its the occasional tv appearance here and there. Harry's kids love their father as well. They always have. They always understood his job and never had hard feeling towards him not being around. So when their mum told them they would be staying with Harry for a few mouths while she filmed a movie, they were super excited.

Current time-

It was currently six in the morning. Harrys alarm just went off letting him know its time to wake his kids up for school. He climbs out of his bed and makes his way to his master bathroom to pee and brush his teeth. Once finished, he makes his way down the hallway to where his kids rooms are. He first knocks and opens his youngest child Teddy's door asking him to wake up please. Then he goes to his middle child Olivia's room asking her to wake up for school. Lastly he goes to his oldest child Darcy's room who's 12 years old. Harry knocks on her door and steps inside. He hears what sounds like muffled cries.

"Darcy love, what's wrong?" Harry asked Darcy while taking a seat on the edge of her bed.

"My tummy really hurts dad." she replies.

"What kind of hurt love? Like pain hurt of sick hurt."

"I don't know. I don't feel as though I'm gonna be sick. It just hurts."

"Alright, you can stay home with me today. Once I get Teddy and Olivia ready for school, I'll give you some medicine. I'll call Jack my chauffeur and ask him to take them to school today so I don't have to leave you. Does that sound alright?"

"Yes thank you dad. Love you." Darcy says quietly.

"I love you to my love. Now get some rest and I'll be back in no time with some medicine for you to take." Harry speaks while laying a kiss to her forehead then exiting the room.

Harry gets Teddy all dressed in his uniform and helps him brush his hair and teeth. Then he does the same for Olivia. Once both kids are properly clothed, he goes down stairs to his kitchen and makes them a quick and easy breakfast. While they sit at the kitchen island eating their breakfast, Harry steps away to phone his chauffeur and ask if he could take his kids to school. (yes Harry has a chauffeur but he only uses him for emergencies or for formal events.) Jack agreed and said he would be at Harry's house in just a few minutes.

Jack the chauffeur came and picked up Teddy and Olivia to take them to school. Harry goes back into the kitchen to find some medicine for his daughter Darcy. He wasn't sure what kind of stomach ache she had. All he knew was that she said she didn't feel sick, so upset stomach medicine wasn't the best option for this instance. He just grabbed some generic pain medicine and a glass of water and headed back up to her room.

Waking up a sleeping Darcy, Harry sits on the edge of her bed handing her the pills and water and says, "Here Darcy. Take these and it should help your tummy pain. If not, I might need to take you to the doctors later."

She swallows the pills and replies back, "Thank you for the medicine dad."

"Its no problem sweetie. Just doing what a father does. Takes care of their sick child." Harry calmly states, "Also, I have to go into my studio room to write some songs with your Uncle Niall, so if you need anything , anything at all, please come get me."

"Will do."

Harry leaves Darcy's room and heads to go into his in home studio room to write some new songs with Niall, and Darcy tries to go back to sleep. Though it was difficult, she managed to fall back asleep for about an hour until she felt the urge to pee. She climbs out of bed and goes into her bathroom which is located in her bedroom. She pulls her pants and panties down like she normally would to sit on the toilet. Only this time she sees something different. Something her mum had told her about but she never really payed it any attention thinking she had a few more years to go before it came. Blood. She sees blood in her panties. That means she just got her period. Darcy still uses the toilet like normal, but when she wiped, the tissue was covered in blood. She felt like crying. How was she supposed to tell her dad that she just got her period. Men don't know anything about periods she thought and her mum was thousands of miles away so she is no help.

Darcy finishes using the toilet and makes her way down to her dad Harrys music studio room. Even from up stairs, she could hear her Uncle Niall's guitar echoing through the walls. She loves her Uncle Niall to pieces but what she's about to have to tell her dad, she wants it to be in private. Darcy approaches the door shyly and walks in.

"Umm dad, can I speak with you privately?" Darcy questions her dad.

"Of course." Harry said with a concerned face. "I'll be right back Niall."

Harry walks out of the studio room and into the hall where his daughter is standing.

"Yeah my love, what's wrong? Is your stomach still hurting?"

"Um yeah but I know why," Darcy says while not making eye contact due to her embarrassment, "I think I got my period. I went to the bathroom and there was blood in my panties. Also I accidently leaked a little on my bed."

"Come here," Harry says while wrapping his arms around his daughters body, "It's alright. I have just what you need. Follow me."

She's a bit confused as to why her dad would have period products at his house beings that he's single, but she doesn't think to much on it. Harry takes her into his bathroom and opens the cabinet under the sink. He takes out a mini bag that's got some pads and tampons inside.

"I made this for you knowing you'd get your period soon. There are some pads and tampons inside. But I think pads are better to start out with. Do you know how to use them?"

"I think so." she answers shyly and Harry can tell she's a bit embarrassed.

"Hey, look at me. There is no reason to be embarrassed. I might be your dad but I know quite a lot about periods. Did you forget I grew up with your gran and Gemma who both had periods each month. Not to mention, I was married to your mother for many years. Plus, periods are a good thing. Means you're a healthy, growing female. I'm going to step out while you get situated alright." he spits out.

Harry shuts the bathroom door to give his daughter some privacy and goes to find a heating pad he knows he has. Usually for when his back is hurting. Once he finds it, Harry plugs it in the wall socket by his bed. He figured she could lay down in his big king size bed while he washes her spoiled bedding. Just as he was plugging the heating pad up, Darcy opens the bathroom door.

"Alright, you can lay down in my bed if you want, and I got you a heating pad that should help you tummy pain. Is there anything else you need?" Harry asked Darcy.

"No I'm fine, but umm," Darcy stumbles on her words a bit, "could you maybe have a cuddle with me for a while. I mean when you get done with work that is."

"I'd love to. I'll be right back."

Darcy climbs into her fathers bed and Harry makes his way back to his music studio.

"Is everything alright?" Niall asks.

"Yep. She just got her first period and isn't feeling to well. Do you think we could cut this session up."

"Yeah of course mate." Niall replies back.

Niall gathers his things and heads out the front door and left out the security gates of Harry's home. Harry makes his way to his bedroom where he finds Darcy bundled up in his fluffy duvet sound asleep. He slips off his shoes and crawls in beside her fragile body. Then he scoots her body close to his so that her head is laying on his clothed tattooed chest. Harry runs his fingers in her hair and watches her peacefully sleep. About 10 minutes later, he finds himself dozing off with his daughter in his arms soundly.

Hope this was okay. I don't normally write fanfictions unless it has either Harrys wife or girlfriend as the reader but I made an exception for this request.

MASTERLIST

#ddm #harrystyles #daughter #harrystylesdaughter #sicfic #request #asked #first period #periods #period #hs #singleparent #dadharry #daddystyles

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neutron-stars-collision · 3 years

Text

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader

Chapter 15 - Make Up Your Mind

Masterlist; Chapter 14

Summary: The mission in Oslo does not go exactly to plan, forcing you to face irritated Neil. What unfolds then surprises you both...

Warnings: A little dose of hurt (nothing graphic however); swearing; some nsfw content (nothing too explicit as well; yet)

Author’s Notes: Okay so here we go, my first attempts at a little more than kissing... It turned out that once I let these two loose, they knew exactly what to do. I’m terrified but also excited to see what you all think! Feedback will be greatly appreciated! Enjoy!!!

The next day went by in a mad blur, filled with perfecting the plans, getting hold of the equipment, and rehearsing the itinerary. The only plus side of your late evening encounter with Neil was the return of texting. It became not only the most fun part of the day but also an opportunity to talk to him freely, without the curious stare of TP, who seemed confused by the dynamic between you. But then you could not blame him when Neil had the nerve to send you rather questionable texts during the hours spent planning…

“I can’t help but wonder whether to treat what you did last night as a promise” as soon as you read the message, you raised your head to look at him across the room.

There he was, nonchalantly sipping the espresso you handed him mere ten minutes prior. When he noticed your look, he smirked. Intentional teasing in public was new. You wondered whether that was a punishment for your own provocations the previous day. And the very self-indulgent kiss. If so, then you probably did deserve it. One thing was certain, it was hard to forget how it felt to touch his skin beneath that shirt. Or the sound he made when it happened. The memories flashed before your eyes, and you blushed. Neil noticed but luckily chose to keep the information to himself. In response, you typed back:

“Maybe, if you behave nicely, you’ll see soon ;)” you hit sent and got up to help Mahir with choosing the right kind of gun for the job.

You certainly did not ignore the way Neil’s eyes lit up when he received the text. Or the way he made sure to brush against you on the way to the bathroom. Hiding a grin in your coffee cup, you had to admit that you liked this evolution of events.

The next day, with the operation set to begin at eight o’clock in the evening, you were forced to spend most of the day in the hotel room. You have all decided that for the sake of safety, it was best that TP and Neil have not been seen meeting anybody before their scheduled visit in the Freeport. And so you have spent hours watching tv, going over the plan and conversing with Mahir, who turned out to be an excellent companion. He entertained you with tales from his previous Tenet missions, usually just as crazy as the Oslo one. You responded by telling him the story of how you ended up in the organization. Before you knew it was time to go. You both got dressed in civilian clothes, based on what research told you about the clothing of the airport crew. The first part of the plan involved entering the perimeter of the Oslo Airport with the rest of the evening shift, blending in with the crowd, using the hi-vis vests and ID cards. When you succeeded, you located the Norskfreight plane. It was exactly where it was supposed to be, with the airport crew busily loading the compartment with the gold bars stacked on crates and secured with straps. So far, so good.

You checked the time. There was still some left till the beginning, so all you had to do was lay low, stay out of the spotlight and make sure you were on that meal cart when it will be loaded onto the Boeing. You hid in the shadows on the hangar, letting Mahir and his associate, Rohan, take up their posts. Using the few minutes of freedom, you glanced at your phone. One new text message.

“Stay out of trouble there, please” he must have sent it before they left the hotel.

Despite the rising anxiety, you smiled.

“Same goes to you. I need my idiot back” you typed, for once giving in to the temptation of honesty.

It felt like things were about to shift at any point now. And it was not as scary as you expected.

Mahir calling out your name brought you back to the present moment. You took a deep breath, checked the gun holstered underneath the vest, and joined your partners on the tarmac. Nodding politely at the guards that were to accompany you onto the plane, you sized them up. Three rather large men with years of experience guarding precious cargo. You should manage. As the lift went up and you stepped aboard the plane, you let the guards escort you to the compartments with the plane meals. The three of you unloaded the cart purposefully slowly. Your eyes met Mahir’s, and you nodded. It was time. Silently you counted the seconds before turning to the guard nearest to you and placing a cotton pad over his nose. When he passed out, you lowered him onto the floor and watched your partners do the same with the rest. You then dumped the sleeping bodies onto the cart and let Rohan send it down, sealing the plane door. You followed Mahir into the front of the plane, opening the cockpit door without knocking. When the two pilots turned to you with a startled look on their faces, you cocked the gun and showed it to them with a small smile. A clear signal.

“Don’t touch the radio,” Mahir warned and sat down on the additional seat in the cockpit.

Taking your position, you aimed the weapon at their heads, alternating between the men every few minutes, suiting your fancy. Sometimes it was terrifying how much you enjoyed having such power.

“Now, let’s begin” your partner motioned for the pilots to start up the towing procedure, pulling out from the hangar and onto the tarmac.

Their nervous gestures were somewhat adorable. You glanced back at Rohan, who was busy with the gold bars, slashing up the straps and preparing the grenade. Feeling the incoming explosion, you braced yourself against the ear-piercing sound. You were rolling down the taxiway now, at a comfortable speed. When the blow came, you flinched instinctively. The distant clamour of gold toppling onto the tarmac made you beam. Mahir got up and tapped you on the shoulder. Now for the fun part…

“Alright, gentlemen,” you grinned at the panicked pilots “Let’s get going” at their hesitation, you smacked your tongue and raised the pistol “You don’t want me to use this. Trust me” you winked.

That was enough. The got up hastily and left the cabin, while you followed behind with the gun ready to be used at any given moment. Rohan opened the front emergency door and unfolded the slide. Nudging their backs with the barrel of your Glock, you urged the crew to roll down the slide and onto the tarmac.

“Ouch,” you flinched when their bodies made contact with the surface.

That was bound to hurt. But then, supposedly, it was better than dying. Once that was done you made sure Mahir was on his task of steering the giant plane off the track and in the direction of the Freeport. Everything seemed perfectly executed. At least so far.

With the back wall approaching fast through the panoramic windows in the cockpit, it was time to work on the exit route. Rohan has opened the flap on the floor and lowered the ladder just as Mahir made sure that the plane was on the right track and stood up from the pilot’s seat.

For the last time, you checked the trajectory, the speed of the machine, and whether there were any signs of trouble around.

“Y/N, it’s time to go!” Mahir called you out from his place by the ladder.

Your ears perked at a strange sound coming from the lavatory on the side. That was worrying… Sensing trouble, your eyes’ met Mahir’s. You urged him to go on, hoping he will take the hint. With a small hesitation, he nodded and left the plane. You looked out of the window. You were approaching the building too fast. But there was no time to waste.

Using the training, you aimed the gun and kicked the toilet door open. You were met with a pair of startled yet determined eyes belonging to a young man. You realised he was probably delivering some papers when you barged in and so hid in the bathroom. Not checking was on you, a definitive fuck up. There would be time to dwell on it later. Now you had to act. One look at the boy was enough to let you know that he was harmless. You yanked him up from the toilet seat and wordlessly pushed him towards the doors open with the slides unrolled.

“What are you doing?” he stammered.

At least he can speak English.

“Saving your ass. Thank me later” you pushed him down the slide.

You could hear the sound of light posts toppled by the plane and the cars crushed by the rolling wheels. It was late. Perhaps too late. You could see the details of the building as you leaped towards the ladder. Fuck it. Landing on the penultimate step, you turned to see people running around, sensing the impending impact. It was definitely too late.

Just as you jumped, Boeing’s nose was two meters away from the wall. With that speed and overwhelming panic, you could not land properly and fell to the ground hard. The impact with the tarmac blew the air out of your lungs, and it took you a long 30 seconds to get up. When you did, the plane crashed into the wall with a bang. The explosion sending you back onto the hard surface of the runway. The instinct kicked in, and you tried to cover your head with your hands, bracing against the potential debris. That was a good decision as soon you felt the sting on different parts of your body left uncovered. You did not want to think about the future bruises and scrapes. Once the initial explosion died down and the biggest pieces of the wreckage fell, you pushed yourself up. Only now, when the adrenaline levels dropped, you realised that the pain was, partially, because a few articles of your clothing were singed. So burns too… brilliant. Your whole body ached, with few areas stinging more ferociously. You glanced at the detritus covering the tarmac all around you. It was a miracle you could do as much as get up and run away from the breach, using the remains of strength. You spotted Mahir and Rohan on the sideline of the crowd that assembled by the plane wreckage. The gold bars were by far the most interesting feature, and so it worked. Nobody stopped you as you joined the team. Worried looks from them both were enough to assure you that they saw what happened. But there was no time to talk.

You waited until the police forces arrived and then used the increasing confusion to slip out unnoticed. Glancing at the Freeport building, you could only hope that Neil and TP had more luck than you. Running away from the chaos, you noticed something strange on the periphery of your vision. You turned sharply and stopped, watching. Two men running with a stretcher. It was most likely nothing but… You would swear there was something familiar in the movements of one of them. It couldn’t be. He turned as though noticing your stare. Just for a quarter of a second, your eyes met. For some reason, you knew then that it was him. And he saw you, acknowledging your existence with widened eyes. The moment ended with Mahir tugging on your arm, urging you to follow him. When you turned again, there was no sight of the two men. Briefly, you wondered whether you should tell Neil, but you knew the answer. What’s happened, happened.

*** Escaping the Oslo Airport turned out to be rather easy. Despite the aching body and tiredness that was slowly catching up, you followed the plan. After splitting up with your partners, you hopped on the public transport that took you back to the city centre within a half-hour. The early reports were calling the incident a terrorist attack, and because of that, there were many people aboard the train that wanted to get away from the epicentre. You blended in well, choosing to sit by the window at the back. No one asked questions.

Once you made it back to the city, you went back to your hotel and changed into something more comfortable. Taking off the shirt, you frowned at the forming bruises, burns, and scratches littering the whole of your torso and back. Somehow, you knew that you will not be able to hide it from them. Especially not from Neil.

You glanced at your watch. You were late. Cursing, you sped up the movements, left the hotel, and hurried down the empty streets. Adjusting your hood now and then, you kept glancing at your phone. Just as expected, your lateness did not go unnoticed.

“Where are you?”

And then:

“Is everything alright?”

Normally, that would make you think, but with everything that happened tonight, you just replied.

“Yes, I’ll be there in 2mins” pocketing the phone, you practically jogged the rest of the way.

Using the skills in sneaking, you managed to pass the reception desk unnoticed. Upstairs, you knocked on TPs door and awaited a response. It did not take long.

Five seconds later, the door opened, revealing Neil. You offered him a weak smile, suddenly relieved you made it back in one piece. Without a word, he took your hand in his and dragged you inside, closing the door and turning the lock. TP was waiting in the corridor, evidently troubled.

“Sorry, I…” you were acutely aware of the fact that the questions are about to be asked.

“We’re glad you made it” TP smiled at you and wandered over to the adjacent room, giving you privacy.

Now that was even more concerning. You watched wide-eyed as Neil approached you with a rather nervous smile on his face. He was worried. Before you could react, he closed the gap and embraced you. You did not have time to relax into his touch. When his hand brushed one of the sore spots on your side, you flinched. Of course, Neil would notice. He let go of you in a flash:

“What’s wrong?” his blue eyes studied you worriedly “Are you hurt?” he skimmed over your body as though trying to see anything obvious there.

You frowned. It was hard to resist that sudden urge to run out of the hotel room and onto the street, avoiding the conversation. Avoiding those eyes that could always see right through you.

“It’s nothing” you faked a smile and tried to turn away from him.

But he reached out and grabbed your arm, holding on strong. There was no escape.

“Doesn’t look like nothing to me” his brow only furrowed more.

You could tell that although their mission was successful, he was weary. And all because of you. That realisation was a hard one to swallow.

“Just a few scratches,” you shrugged, aiming for nonchalance “It’s okay, seriously”.

You could tell that he was trying to keep his emotions in check. He breathed out, as though composing himself, and asked:

“What happened?”

God no… Briefly, you were grateful for the fact that Mahir was still MIA. At least only you knew the truth, and that allowed some room for… lies.

“Got held up before I could escape the plane and... I jumped too late onto the tarmac” you blurted out, staring at the carpet purposefully.

Everything was better than meeting his eyes again. You heard movement across the room. TP was most likely hearing this too. Bloody brilliant.

“Jesus, you could’ve...” Neil let out a long exhale, unable to finish the thought.

Despite knowing better, you raised your head to look at him. The concern and anguish you saw in his expression were enough to make your heart stumble. Maybe it was not all want and his needs?

“But I didn’t, so please stop” you tried to regain composure, wrestling out of his hold and stepping out of his reach.

He clenched his jaw, clearly battling the emotions. You could hear the blood pounding in your ears.

“I need to check if you’re okay,” his voice broke at the end of the sentence.

Fuck.

“I am” attempting defiance, you straightened your back and wandered into the room.

“I don’t believe you,” he followed and blocked your path in no time.

You stared, trying to stifle all that his worried eyes were making you feel. Why does he have to be so goddamn difficult?

“And who’s problem is that?” you shrugged out of the jacket, careful not to show the pain you felt “Neil, just let it go” you pleaded.

“I can’t” he stepped in closer, trying to get to you the only way he knew was successful.

But this time, you were determined not to give in. Maybe it was ridiculous, but his concern set off the stubbornness you were full of. You could not let him see how badly you have fucked up during that mission. Because then he could look at you differently. And that was terrifying. Especially when combined with feelings that you have tried to repress for the past few days.

“Brilliant” you sighed and collapsed onto the nearby armchair.

That was a mistake, as the wounds on your back stung the moment you sat down. You were unable to stop the grimace of pain. Neil, naturally, did notice. The concern on his face quickly shifted into annoyance. Before you could continue the strange quarrel, TP walked back into the room. The way his eyes shifted between the two of you, you knew he heard most of it.

“Is everything alright there?” he asked, seemingly casual.

“Not quite. We’ve reached an impasse it seems” you shrugged, rolling your eyes and ignoring Neil, who was very much in the centre of your vision.

“You’re being childish, so there’s that” the dark edge to his voice was surprising.

But that relentless voice in your head found satisfaction in it. And decided to press forward.

“If I’m childish, then what does it say about you?” you met his gaze with one eyebrow arched “Why do you even care so much? Didn’t take you for a neurotic” once you spit those words out, his eyes darkened.

That might have been a step too far.

“Fucking hell...” he took a deep breath “Okay, I’ve had enough” he grabbed your hand and pulled you up from the chair “You in the bathroom now. I’ll look at those wounds” he practically pushed you in the direction of the corridor.

You stared, shocked. For a split second, you looked at TP and noticed his perplexed expression. This was definitely not how casual co-workers behaved.

“Is that absolutely necessary?” you risked another question.

“Yes,” Neil was not even looking at you, searching for something on the desk.

You sighed defeatedly. Seeing him that angry was startling. And you were not sure you wanted to know why he was behaving like that. Because, surely, it could not have been all caused by your disobedience…?

“Do you want tea for later?” TP’s question broke through your messy thoughts.

One look at Neil’s tense figure was enough to give you an answer.

“Whiskey would be better, thanks” you smiled at the boss and went into the dreaded bathroom.

You did not have to wait long for Neil to follow you and lock the door behind you. At the sound, you turned to face him. Taking in the irritation in his eyes, clenched jaw, and furrowed brow, you quipped:

“I see you finally got what you wanted. Me and you, locked in the bathroom. What’s it gonna be?” you drawled out the question and wiggled your eyebrow, giving in to the weird mood that suddenly overcame you.

That took him by surprise. You watched as his eyes widened and mouth opened a little. For a second, you wanted nothing but to close it with a kiss. No, stop.

“Think I’m starting to rub off on you” Neil gave you a half-smile that did not reach his eyes.

“Is that bad?”

“Potentially,” he grimaced and dragged a hand through his hair “Now, sit” obediently, you perched on the edge of the bathtub “Where is it?” his eyes roamed over your body again.

There we go, you ignored the blush creeping over your cheeks as you sheepishly glanced down at your chest and stomach.

“Okay. Off” if he was bothered by the information, he did not show it.

You could not tell if that was good or bad.

“Really?” you glanced up, hoping that maybe he will change his mind.

“Yes. And I’m not going to say that I won’t look because that’s kind of beyond the point” there was nothing playful in those eyes.

“Well then…” awkwardly, you took off the loose shirt you found at the bottom of the suitcase.

As it came over your head, you dropped the material onto the floor. The moment cold bathroom air hit your bare skin, you felt exposed. Swallowing down the nerves, you met Neil’s eyes. He did stare, there was no denying that. You felt him skim over your chest and stomach, drinking in everything that was suddenly revealed. You knew that he saw all the bruises, scratches, and burns that you have acquired tonight. The expression in his eyes was as close to cold scrutiny as you have ever seen. You felt judged, and it was a rather uncomfortable position to be in, considering everything. But before you could let that feeling consume you, he ended his examination and kneeled on the tiled floor, right in front of you. He met your gaze, asking for permission to touch you. You just nodded and turned away, focusing on counting the little white squares in the shower floor mosaic. A moment later, you felt Neil’s fingers ghost over one particular scrape on your rib, just below the band of the sport’s bra you kept on. At least that one bit of dignity was allowed.

He was gentle you had to admit. First, he identified all the spots that needed attention and then went on to clean them with a wet cloth. With his face this close, looking over the parts of your body that you were self-conscious about, it did not take long for anxiety to kick in. The fact that it was Neil, the man who you had tried desperately not to fall for, only made it worse. The faster breaths and shaking hands did not go past his attention. He leaned back, searching your face for any clues about what was going on. He must have found the answers quickly.

“Hey, it’s okay” tipping your chin, he turned your face, forcing you to meet his soft gaze “I didn’t mean that I don’t care… about how you look, because I really do” you were surprised to see him nervous “I know that this isn’t the most comfortable situation for either of us but…” he trailed off, looking for words.

It looked like the anger from earlier was gone, and now he was just as tense as you were. It was increasingly hard not to think about all those times you got a little too close. You had a sudden feeling this might be the moment that the dreaded ‘elephant’ will make its appearance after four days of silence. And you were not wrong.

“You know… What I said the other day?” he asked, and even though you knew what was coming, you felt your heart speed up.

You did not respond, instead choosing to stare at him curiously with a dose of apprehension.

“It wasn’t just alcohol talking” the earnest look in his eyes was not helping “I have realized that recently but I do l-“

Okay, that was enough.

“You’re making it worse” you interrupted him, refusing to maintain the eye contact any longer.

You were scared of what you both could potentially see. The whole situation was somehow getting more and more overwhelming.

“I want you to know that it doesn’t matter that this is how I first saw you... I...”

You used the break in his rambling to bring an end to the suffering. You reached out and placed your hand over his mouth. The blue eyes glanced at you, perplexed and lost. It seemed like neither of you knew how to deal with this situation.

“Neil, please stop” you muttered, hoping that maybe if you showed him the extent of your discomfort, he would understand “I know what you’re doing but please… I’d rather we didn’t talk about it right now”

Before you could retract your palm, he grabbed it and kissed your knuckles lightly.

“I’m sorry, it’s just… everything that happened today has been rather draining and now…” he sighed and squeezed your hand before letting go “Should I…?” he motioned at the first aid materials on the side.

“Yeah, let’s get this over and done with” you attempted a small smile, which he mirrored.

You let him continue the work, cleaning the cuts and scratches, applying ointment to the burns. He frowned when he noticed the wound that began the whole affair – a rather large cut on your side, a result of colliding with a piece of debris from the plane. The silence made you think. Probably a little too much. Finally, after battling with yourself, you decided to ask:

“Why did you get so angry? If it were you, you wouldn’t even care”

Neil glanced at you, seemingly unbothered. His long fingers brushed over your rib cage thoughtlessly. So far, you were succeeding at ignoring the very way his touch made you feel.

“That’s the difference, it’s you, not me,” he said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world and went back to his task.

“Does that really matter?” you hissed when he applied some hydrogen peroxide to the cut.

“It does to me” the blue eyes met yours with defiance you did not expect.

Oh. You inhaled, realising the implications behind his statement. Suddenly, his proximity, the gentle touch, and the things he said meant much more. Because if he cared so extremely, then maybe… maybe he did actually mean it. Surprisingly, the doubtful voice was not present to give any counterarguments. You took that as a sign to let yourself do what you wanted.

You reached out and dragged your hand through Neil’s hair, making him look up with a surprise. As your eyes met, just for once, you decided to look at him without holding anything back. You poured all the fondness, attraction, affection, and desire into that look. It was enough. Neil exhaled as he took in the sight. For a second, he rested his chin on your lap, staring up at you.

“If you keep on looking at me like that, I’ll do something stupid” it was a warning, and yet you found that you were not scared.

“Like what?” the confidence was new but not unwelcomed.

“Do you really want to know?” that was a challenge.

Something changed in the way he was looking at you. The softness got replaced with darkness you got to know well. Only this time, seeing him like this made you want to experiment. Using the hand that you ruffled his hair with, you traced the outline of his sharp jaw. That simple gesture had much effect on Neil. He dropped the cloth onto the floor and stood up abruptly. Before you could determine what to expect in response, he motioned for you to get up as well. One look at his tense posture was enough to make you decide and obey. Once you were levelled, he made you turn around to look at the bruise below your right shoulder blade. With your back turned and inability to see what his eyes held, you had to depend on the way he touched you. Something felt different. Especially in how close he stepped and how his fingers trailed over the skin surrounding the purple bruise. Then, before you could prepare, you felt his breath on the back of your neck. You shivered as he kissed your shoulder and pulled you flush against his chest. Arms encircled your waist, taking time to explore every curve. Fuck.

“Neil… what…” the coherence was gone.

All you could do was gasp when he lightly scratched the skin on your stomach.

“Let me show you what’s going on” his voice was huskier than you have ever heard it.

He started kissing the back of your neck with urgency. Looking for support, you grabbed the hands that were wrapped around your stomach and held on tight, only gripping stronger when he started biting the skin on your shoulder. You knew that was bound to leave marks. With every new kiss and bite, Neil was getting more confident, using the lack of your protests as a sign to continue. In response, you could only give him access to new spots on your neck.

Using a break in his exploration, you turned in the embrace to face him. The darkness of his irises and blown pupils were enough to make you feel faint. His parted lips were the only thing you could focus on, desperate to kiss him again. Before you could lean in, he whispered:

“If you want to stop, this is the right moment” with how close you were you could see his long eyelashes and slightly crooked nose.

He was beautiful. Feeling the steady grip of his hands on your waist and seeing the longing in his eyes, you realized that, in fact, you did not want to stop. Not when his every touch and kiss made you feel wanted like never before. Neil was still waiting for consent, looking at you with adoration. That was all you needed to tip the scales. You nodded and pulled him closer by entangling your hand in his hair. As your lips crashed, he let out a groan. A giggle rose in your throat and tinted your next kiss with sighs. The heated kisses were everything you needed. He was never close enough. Desperately, your hands tugged at his shirt but to no avail. You let out a frustrated whine when he broke the kiss and took half a step back. The playful sparks in his eyes were enough to assure you that he knew exactly what to do. With wide eyes and shallow breath, you let him part your knees with his long leg, providing support as his hands continued the reverent exploration of your upper body. Hands palming your breasts through the thin fabric of the sports bra were enough to make you curse. The heat flowing through your veins was pooling in your lower stomach, making everything hazy.

“Fuck…” you breathed out, resting your head in the crook of his neck.

The intoxicating smell of his cologne was slowly overwhelming the last bits of sanity.

“That bad?” Neil sounded smug.

His hands travelled south now, brushing over your sides and settling on the skin just above the trousers hemline. All it took was for him to scratch that spot under the belly button, and you shuddered. The only response from him was a short laugh that revibrated through your embraced bodies. That raspy sound was more than revelatory. Suddenly the leg that was so conveniently placed between your knees became the only thing you could focus on. Hooking one of your legs around his hip, you ground down on his thigh, beginning a little movement to ease the ache. That kind of friction had to do.

If he was surprised by your actions, he did not show it, instead working on unbuckling your belt. His hand slipped just as far as the band of your trousers allowed, testing the waters. The gasp and the way your fingers dug into his biceps were all he needed to continue. You sucked on the skin of his neck, wanting nothing but to mark him in any way. At that moment, you realized one thing – you wanted him to be yours. The quiet moan he let out upon your action made you believe that maybe he wanted that too.

The moment he succeeded at undoing the belt on your jeans, you could not hold back the only plea that came to mind.

“Neil, I…” you breathed in his scent, hoping to find salvation in any way possible.

You what? Need you? Want you?... Love you? Perhaps you did.

He responded by unbuttoning your jeans and meeting your eyes for the first time in a while. You knew that was the final opportunity to back out. His eyes were almost black, clouded with the need that made your breath hitch. You did not want to imagine what sight he saw in your flushed face and unfocused eyes. All you could think, and feel was him; his hands knowing exactly where you needed his touch; his eyes making you feel wanted and important. It suddenly made sense, every shared look and close encounter building up to this exact moment. You leaned in, determined to kiss him again when a knock resounded in the bathroom.

“Mahir is here” TP’s voice breaking through the silence was like a sharp wake up call.

You stopped with your lips brushing against Neil’s, sharing a breath. Your eyes met, and you could see that he was just as shocked as you were. There was no going back from this. He closed the distance and gave you a chaste kiss on the lips before taking a definitive step back. You disentangled from him, feeling embarrassment take over any other emotion. Once you were stood on your own again, you swayed a little, overwhelmed by the situation. Even now, Neil noticed and reached out to steady you, carefully touching your arm. Without a word, he picked up your shirt from the floor and passed it to you with a rather contrite expression in his eyes. That was worrying. You swallowed the increasing panic and quickly got dressed, using the fact that he turned away, giving you privacy. While the gesture was thoughtful, you could not help but worry that it meant he was having regrets. Or worse, that he realized that this was not something he actually wanted. Battling those thoughts, you splashed cold water onto your face, hoping to cool off the flushed skin. Looking up at the mirror over the sink, you noticed those blue eyes watching you closely.

“Go, have that whiskey. I’ll join you in a minute” he spoke when you turned to face him.

The space between you felt like an ocean that neither of you could breach. You noticed the furrowed brow and conflicted eyes.

“Neil...” your voice sounded strange without that passionate tone “Are you alright?” you watched him with concern.

What if that’s how you fucked it all up? You could feel the incoming panic attack at the thought. That probably cleared up the question of your own feelings on the matter.

“I just need a moment” upon seeing your worried eyes, he stepped in closer again “Don’t worry, it’s not about this”

But what if…? You desperately wanted to get rid of the sabotaging brain. As though Neil was reading your mind, he leaned in and kissed you on the forehead. The softness took your breath away. You squeezed your eyes shut tightly until you could think straight again.

“Think we should join before they…” he trailed off, and you were hit with the realization of how suspicious the whole situation was.

Bloody hell.

“Yeah, sure,” you hesitated before asking the seemingly most crucial question, “Are we… are we okay?” once you stumbled over it, you met his eyes timidly.

None of that previous bravado could be found right now. You wondered how it changed within mere minutes.

“Yes, of course. Never been better” he picked up a stray long hair from his shirt.

A tell-tale sign of what happened. Or nearly happened. You eyed him curiously once more, to assure yourself that he was real and fine. Your eyes froze on the reddish mark on his neck, visible through the unbuttoned collar. Your work. Feeling shame burn on your cheeks, you decided to let him know.

“Neil… there’s… you’ve got…” you huffed, unable to formulate the sentence.

He was watching you with a charming expression in his eyes, making the matters worse.

“You might want to look in the mirror before you go outside” you blurted out the sentence and added, “I’m sorry”.

You could not miss the way his eyes lit up as he glanced at the mirror then.

“Nothing to be sorry about” he sent you a smirk.

*** When you finally joined TP and Mahir, you realized how badly that whiskey was needed. You took a long sip even before acknowledging them both. If that was in any way surprising, they did not show. And neither did they comment on how long you and Neil stayed in that bathroom. Luckily. You hugged Mahir and settled down on the sofa.

“Are you alright?” TP eyed you quickly.

“Yeah, I’ll live” you smiled lightly, enjoying the way alcohol hit, taking the edge off.

“Neil made himself useful, I hope”

Oh no. You tried to mask the horrified expression on your face by taking another large gulp. Fucking hell. It was meant to be a joke, but you had a hard time finding words again. This was looking to be a long evening…

“Yeah, he did” you looked up for a split second and gave your brightest grin.

That had to do. You had no way of knowing whether TP bought that because, at that moment, Neil chose to make an appearance.

“Good to see you back Mahir” he wandered over to the man in question and slapped his shoulder gently.

You took the notice of his shirt collar, buttoned up all the way. Without the tie, that looked suspicious. At that moment, you vowed to never again let yourself get that lost in such circumstances. Even for Neil, the embarrassment was not worth it. You kept on staring as he poured himself a shot of whiskey. Huh. Apart from that, he looked perfectly composed.

“So… how did it go on your end?” Neil joined you on the sofa, keeping a respectable distance.

His eyes flicked between you and Mahir.

“Everything perfect up until the last moment” your partner looked at you with interest “But maybe that’s best explained by Y/N”

“There isn’t much to explain… I… uh, got caught up by unexpected obstruction and had to make late-exit onto the tarmac just before the explosion” you shrugged halfheartedly.

The three pairs of eyes were staring at you with a wide range of emotions. TP was shocked, perhaps a little worried and suspicious. Mahir was perplexed, undoubtedly wondering why your story felt so disjointed. And Neil was looking at you with that same concerned and infatuated expression you knew well. Sighing, you tried to steer the attention away.

“What matters is that it went well, and we’re most likely getting away” you plastered a weak smile onto your face.

“Fair point” Mahir came to your rescue “How about you lads? Everything good?”

TP tensed at the question. You knew that he would rather keep you all out of the circle of those initiated. To him, all three of you were only helping, necessary but costly additions to making his mission succeed. You were not supposed to know the truth.

“The distraction worked” he answered, finally, smiling at Neil lightly “No one suspected anything, and we had time to explore the pentagon” he hesitated.

Your eyes flicked to Neil, but his troubled expression gave nothing away.

“I got my answers and even more questions” that was a definite answer, as TP picked up his drink from the table.

“And the rest is silence, huh?” Neil smirked, and you glared at him.

You ignored the warmth that spread in your chest upon seeing his cheeky smile and sparkling eyes. Shit. He mirrored your look with a little head tilt, still smiling. The look in his eyes was something you could not describe. But it felt important. Before you could contemplate it further, TP replied.

“Well… yes. The job is done for you, and unfortunately, I can’t give you any explanation” he shrugged apologetically.

Not everything is so different.

“Understood” you nodded curtly and focused your gaze on the carpet.

“Well, if this is our last night together… we might as well have fun” Neil got up, on the way brushing his hand over your knee.

You clenched your jaw. His nerve never failing to surprise you.

“Anyone wants more whiskey?” he raised the bottle, undoubtedly glancing at you.

“Yes, please,” you deadpanned.

When he came over to give you a refill, you stared at the ruffled blonde hair and inhaled the whiff of his cologne that accompanied him. Creepy or not, it was needed.

Once everyone had the needed amount of alcohol, you drifted into a rather confusing terrain of trying to talk to TP without disclosing anything significant about yourselves. Mahir went first, and you were surprised by how good he was at spinning his life story in a way that made him seem like a freelancer. He mentioned working with Neil, another fellow free spirit. That seemed strangely fitting, and the boss bought it in no time. And then he asked about you. Or more precisely, how come you had all that experience and where Neil knew you from.

“I’ve started the freelancing gig a few years back after gaining experience in the gov” the lie rolled off your tongue easily.

All that thanks to alcohol.

“You’ve worked with British Intelligence?” TP arched his eyebrow skeptically.

You knew what he meant; you were quite young for that kind of experience.

“Yeah, I was a young prodigy,” you shrugged, attempting smugness “And then Neil and I met on a little job recently” you glanced at the man in question and found him staring at you “He must’ve taken his liking to me since he went straight to me for this one” you smirked upon seeing Neil’s eyes widen.

How about that? It did not take him long to recover.

“Who can blame me if I did” he grinned “You’re good at what you do. And at everything really” he batted his eyelashes at you.

Stifling the urge to groan, you replied:

“Thank you, I’ll take that,” downing the rest of the drink, you got up “I’m pretty tired, so I’ll head off now. It was a pleasure to work with all of you” you shook TP’s hand and nodded at Mahir.

Neil was to be ignored. Which was inconvenient given the fact that he was the one to let you of the apartment. Once you were out of sight in the narrow corridor, he placed his hand on your waist, effectively pinning you to the wall. You gaped at him, surprised and intrigued. He leaned in close and whispered:

“Thought you’d know better than to slip out without saying goodbye,” he nuzzled your neck, just below the ear.

You shivered, unable to pretend that it was not working. You realized that act might need to be given up now.

“I was hoping you’ve had enough of me tonight” biting hard onto your lower lip you tried to level your breathing.

Neil kissed your neck before responding.

“I wouldn’t count on that” he took his time, breathing you in and making sure you understood his intentions.

“Ever?” you cringed at how breathless you sounded already.

“Mhmm” he left one more reverent kiss in the crook of your neck before raising his head “For me, this was only a little prelude” his eyes sparkled playfully.

He grinned when you rolled your eyes.

“Fantastic. Now let me go, please?” you ignored the voice that suggested letting him do whatever the hell he wanted to you.

But it was easier said than done. Your breath hitched when he lightly nibbled on your earlobe, letting his hand travel down your hip and then between your thighs in a smooth movement. Relentless bastard. The previous ache was threatening to come back at any moment. And now was definitely not the time. You leaned back as far as the wall allowed you and glared at him. With a cheeky smile, he retracted his hand and beamed at you, ever so innocently.

“Of course,” he kissed you on the lips chastely, for the second time tonight, “I’m nothing but a gentleman”

“That’s debatable” up this close his eyes seemed too blue to be real “Goodnight, Neil”

“Night night, darling” letting go of you, he opened the door with a flourish “Sleep well and dream of me” he winked when you were out in the corridor.

“Kindly, fuck off darling” you stormed down the corridor.

It did not take him long to keep on bothering you. Entering your own hotel room fifteen minutes later, you heard the text chime:

“Good thing I’ve got that scarf with me” Idiot. You grinned fondly despite yourself.

“You have a slap incoming, I think” you typed back and lied down on the bed.

“You can start tomorrow night with that then” that did not take him long.

Ah yes, your night out… absolutely terrifying.

“Is it still on?” you nibbled on your lip, not sure what sort of answer you wanted.

“Of course. If anything, tonight gave more reasons to take you out”

Okay… You rolled onto your stomach and hid your face in the pillow. Now that is going to be a nerve-wracking day… and night. You had a feeling those butterflies in your stomach were not going to stop.

#tenet #neil tenet #neil tenet x reader #neil x reader #neil tenet imagine #neil tenet fanfic #tenet fanfic #robert pattinson #the art of inversion #image not mine

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guudak · 4 years

Text

andante, andante

pairing: jungkook / oc genre + tags: college au, f2l, alcohol, pining word count: 7,522 The aftermath of your best friend singing that ABBA song, clumsily flirting with you and then drunkenly professing his love to you multiple times in the same night.

“Is he ok? Namjoon, what’s he doing?”

“He’s severely hungover,” he explains to you, propping an arm on the windowsill. His hand gestures. “This is his remedy.”

You look out the window again, overseeing the frat’s backyard, and down below at the deck - is the person you sought. The gales shake the trees, you can hear it howl, and not to mention the downpour of rain that had you soaked to the skin through your jeans between your sprint from the bus stop to here. You look back at Namjoon, disbelieved. “What, sitting in a hot tub outside in the middle of a hale storm?”

“Erm, well, not the storm bit. That was just unfortunate. Sitting meditatively in a hot tub though, yeah. He does that a lot, moreso when he has something on his mind.” He peeps a discreet eye at you while you claim a seat on the ledge. Your arms cross, huddling your oversized cardigan over yourself as you glance back at the mop of matted black hair on the deck. Jungkook is sitting very still, laying back, eyes closed and his neck craning upwards towards the gloomy sky. A breath of air expels from your nose when you imagine how cold the rain must be.

“I really wanted to talk to him in person … I don’t know, do you think I should have waited a few days?” You turn to Namjoon who shakes his head.

“It’s good you came here. I think it would have left him to assume the worst and overthink otherwise, and you know what he’s like - better to confront him sooner than later. He’s been in a kind of sad, mopey daze since this morning.”

Your lips purse together as you mull this over. “I don’t necessarily want to confront him about it now, not if he doesn’t want to yet. I just want to see him and … make sure he’s ok. Because you know, that … overthinking thing he does.”

The upward lift of Namjoon’s lips is soft, the same kind of softness that’s perceptible in his eyes. The look reminds you of Jungkook’s own gentle demeanour. “I think seeing you here will disorient him a litte, but I think deep down he’ll be relieved. ”

He invites you to sit in the warmth of the lounge downstairs while you wait. The house of Beta Tau Sigma is cosy, and your favourite visits are always during the winter period when they’d decorate the interior, reminding you very much of the setting of a classic Christmas movie. Alas, however, it isn’t winter, and there are still strewn cups around and a broken lamp on the table in front of you; consequence of the party they hosted the previous night.

You’re surprised Jungkook remembers. He’d been so far-gone yesterday, yet you woke up this morning to four successive texts from him -

i’m sorry

im so so sorry.

can we talk

please

You’d thought over a tactful reply; taking into mind Jungkook: despite the calm, rational front he has - is emotional, an individual with a soul as sensitive as they come. You had to be careful with what you said, but soon after aborted all efforts when you’d found yourself backspacing each time. You prefer face-to-face conversation, and for something like this - you couldn’t possibly venture any other approach that would be befitting. For anyone else, perhaps. But Jungkook isn’t just someone else. He’s your best friend.

You check the text in reply that you’d left for him from two hours ago, which is still left unread.

hi jungkook i’d love to talk

are u ok

Sleeping it over had dulled the shock from the night before, as hearing it from him had been a double whammy for both your head and heart. You hadn’t known what to think, hadn’t known what to say.

In his tastefully tipsy state he’d been very happy. The chirpy go-lucky sort of happy that made you coo. Tipsy Jungkook is sweet and endearing, more affectionate and made it his mission to pull you with him to the karaoke machine. You’d been friends with him long enough to know that he could sing. He’s a soft singer; has a voice that could be lullaby to late sleepy evenings, it’s one you’d heard snippets of because he did it without conscious thought; he hummed in the car, while waiting in line - one of his many mannerisms that makes clear when he’s in his head.

“ABBA? Good choice,” you’d commented, after he jabbed the numbers on the remote. He budged over so you could sit beside him on the armchair. So cramped and close that you moved to drape your leg over one of his, and he welcomed it. “Not their most popular song, but definitely one of their most soulful. That’s a good one, it’s one of my favourites,” and then he stilled.

At the cease of his movements, you’d found your spine straightening just slightly, as if on guard, but for what you hadn’t been sure. You were about to ask him if he was ok, only to be taking the brunt of his bright puppy eyes that smile at you.

“Me too,” he’d said, with that characteristic gentleness shining in his orbs.

A few hours later, he’d morphed from sweet boy-next-door with the angel voice to himbo football jock slash and quote “pussy-whisperer,” courtesy and words verbatim of Park Jimin, who vibed with Jock Jungkook like a long lost brother.

The amount of girls that suddenly flocked to him and sat on his lap had you reeling in hysterics to the extent that you had to bury your face in Hoseok’s shoulder. Even when Jungkook’s on the football team, you’d never thought of him once as a jock. Didn’t they say all jocks are athletes, but not all athletes are jocks? He’d never lived up to the greasy college stereotype. Turned out maybe some alcohol was missing in the mix. Was this what you were missing? Who knew he had it in him?

“How many have you had, man?” Hoseok had asked, and Jungkook grinned, mouth lop-sided, before then thwacking him solidly on the back.

“I’m good, thanks for asking, man.”

“That wasn’t what I - ok,” Hoseok winced, clutching at his shoulder blade, and exchanging a bemused look at you.

You were alert to the sliding gaze of Jungkook on you. He slid into the chair close beside you, and you propped your elbow onto the counter. Head resting in your palm, you’d anticipated it.

“Hey, cutie.”

And there it was.

Your mouth twitched during your attempt to stifle your laugh, but you were eager to play along. You straightened, not shy to look him direct in the eyes, even when his own wandered to your midriff. “Hey.”

A moment’s pause, before he let out a wistful sigh.

“Holy shit, I love your boobs.”

Hoseok spat into his cup, a succession of coughs after.

“No, I’m just saying, from a non-biased, impersonal point of view …” He made a vague, rounded motion in the air with his hands, “- they’re really nice. I’m saying this objectively.”

“Objectively,” Hoseok wheezed. You aimed a calculated kick at his ankle.

“Thanks! They’re not much but they’re cute, I grew them all by myself.”

Jungkook hummed in acknowledgement, a critical eye on you and his head bobbing solemnly. “You did a good job.”

“Oh my God,” Hoseok was crying; head ducked, full-blown tears of laughter, ears pink and slapping the countertop. “I’m not drunk enough for this.”

“Yours are pretty neat, too,” you told him.

He looked down at the outline of his chest. “You think so? I’ve been working out but they could do with a bit more volume.”

Hoseok was doubling over, desperate to leave but at the same time rooted to the spot, thumping his chest to stop himself from choking. “I can’t take this anymore. I’m gonna die if I stay any longer. See you, guys.”

He left, leaving you alone with Jungkook and a few others in the kitchen. “You alright?” you asked, and he nodded again, smiling tiredly and head lolling a little to the side.

“Did you like the song I sang for you earlier?”

“You sang it for me? How sweet of you,” you cooed, cuddling up to his side. “You know, if you wanted to touch my boobs, if you asked I think I’d be ok with that.”

He seemed hesitant. “You’re bullshitting.”

“Ok, maybe I am a little,” you chuckled, feeling the rumble resonating from his chest.

“Seriously,” he murmured, and for a millisecond, you swore you detected the tone of the Jungkook - not this Jungkook who was a confident force, but the one you were most familiar with, “I think I’d -”

Jimin’s voice boomed above the stereo, “Jungkook! It’s your turn! Get your ass back here!”

A heavy sigh was drawn out from him as he slid his chair back. Though, he waited for you to lift your head from his chest before doing so.

“See you.” He winked at you before following Jimin’s ongoing calls. Though, more of a wink and a half. He never could wink properly with just one eye, both had to be involved.

Then came the finale.

The most recent drunken Jungkook phase - one you’d never witnessed beforehand. If there was anything you could have concluded, it was that beyond his sober level-headed exterior, he must have a lot of pent up anger. Jungkook in drunken phase three transitioned between a three colour spectrum of moods and you’d barely caught up.

Exhibit one -

“The ocean is so important!” he cried, literally cried as he began bumbling about blue whales and the sheer plastic in the ocean, morosed how the first piece of plastic ever produced still hadn’t decomposed.

It was no help that Namjoon enthusiastically joined in - the fucking nerds, until Jungkook started bawling and knocked back the salt shaker on the countertop mistaking it for a shot of tequila.

You’d panicked and dragged him to the nearest bathroom to wash it out of his eyes. The seconds that followed afterwards, was you rubbing his back while he sobbed and puked the hearty contents of his stomach into the toilet.

Exhibit two -

“If any dude is giving you a hard time, chances are - you’re hotter than them. And on top of that, they made you cry, making you a better person than them!” he proclaimed. Once you’d helped him clean up, he’d bumped into Ola - a girl you recalled was in his media class, and was crying outside of the door of the bathroom you and Jungkook had been in.

She’d sniffled her way through a story about a boy she’d been talking to for six months, and Jungkook was as revved up as his ocean speech while he pep-talked her about how heartless the guy was; that he gave good guys a bad rep; and that she simply deserved better. Of course, you’d agreed with him. It sounded all too familiar to something you’d said in the past, though who could blame him for adopting your mannerism of speech when he’d spent so much time with you?

Exhibit three -

“Hey, Chad! Why the fuck do you hate poor people?!”

You were mortified. “Jungkook! Literally, where did you get that conclusion from?!”

“He plays lacrosse and owns a golf cart!”

You groaned, yanking at his arm away from Chad - captain of the boys’ lacrosse team, and who’d also fortunately passed out on the couch, otherwise Jungkook for sure would have had his face beat in. Though, you’d like to think that Jungkook would win, for sure, but you promised sober Jungkook that you’d take care of drunk Jungkook.

So that was that.

By now you’d contracted a stress-induced migraine, by which your own best friend was accountable for. And you thought - by God, did he have to deal with this every time you went to a party together while you’d run rampant? This had been an eye-opener, and you should definitely be considerate next time because drunk people were babies, and not in the cute way either.

And finally: exhibit four.

“Hey.”

You endured all the pet names, had endured being called the Apple of his Eye, Angel Face, and his Compass Star, because flirty Jungkook had been throwing pet names around all night. You’d seen and heard it yourself. But nothing would have prepared you for what he’d say next.

You glanced at him, just a second to look away from your phone screen. “Yeah?”

His eyes drooped, form slouched, and head atop his folded arms on the countertop. It was just after midnight, and the kitchen was a quiet lull, besides you and Jungkook who were sitting together; and then there was Jimin and Taehyung, and Seokjin by the sink in their own private conversation … and whatever it was that Taehyung was doing. Admittedly you hadn’t been paying much heed nor did you endeavour to find out.

Body curling into himself; Jungkook looked so much smaller than when he stood to his full stature.

“I’ve got it bad,” he mumbled, wistfully, “real bad. So bad - I’m doomed bad. End of the fucking world baaad.”

Your hands rubbed at his nape, tender fingers toying with the longer hairs there. He’d been growing it out, and he looked good. You tucked a tuft of hair behind his ear. “What makes you think that?”

Again - the glossy puppy eyes that gazed up, contemplating you like you’d fallen from heaven.

His smile was meek, as shy as the drawling voice that spoke, “I … I really think you’re my soulmate. I don’t like saying it too much but I … like, love love you, but we’re only best friends. Someday you’ll date for real - instead of flings, I’d have to accept it. I don’t think I’ll be ok, but I will be, jus’ will take time to get over you. Have done it a few times before. I’ll be ok.”

Your hand stilled, fingers still tangled in his locks.

Rendered motionless, like air had been punched out of you from the stomach, unable to bring yourself to salvage the words. Breathless, all you could bring yourself to do was to weakly call his name.

He hadn’t heard you, and he yawned, leaning into your touch. His body trembled with his giggles. “One time, you were sooo drunk. You were so drunk, don’t think you remembered - blacked out. You flirted with me that whole evening. After that … after that I became obsessed with you forever.”

It was with a sinking stomach when you’d realised that you couldn’t recall that night at all.

Gulping, you peered down at the mop of tangled hair on the countertop, wishing for nothing else but to properly see his face, but it was half-hidden where he’d snuggled into his arms.

“Jungkook?” you whispered, gently moving away the hair that flopped over his eyes. “Jungkook?’

No reply. Just steady, heavy breathing.

No reply, because he’d fallen asleep.

It’s a splitting headache that rouses Jungkook from heavy sleep. One of those slumbers where he wakes up groggy, as if he hasn’t rested at all despite it being hours since. He tries to get up, but to no avail. His limbs are leaden heavy, and he collapses back onto his bed within seconds of mustering the strength to hoist himself up.

There are a series of knocks on the door but what’s the point of knocking when Jimin barges in anyway. He snickers seeing Jungkook: a sad, spectacular heap on the bed with a bitching hangover to boot.

“Oh, how the mighty have fallen.”

“Shut up,” Jungkook drawls, barely recognising the cadence of his own voice. He throws an arm over his face, brow tightening as he shuts his eyes to recall anything that happened hours prior, but even that’s too much of a Herculean effort that his brain isn’t willing to commit to at nine in the morning. Hangovers are not worth the night before for this - this is a different kind of hell.

Jimin places a glass and a jug of water on his bedside table. “Good morning to you too, sunshine.”

“Thanks,” he replies. He at least has enough strength to reach for the glass. When he sits up a hand goes instantly to knock against his temple, as if it would stop whatever invisible vice it is that’s squeezing and hammering at his brain from all directions. He notices Jimin’s narrowing scrutiny on him.

“You remember anything from yesterday?”

“Honestly, not really. Just some bits here and there.”

“Blacked out, huh.” If Jimin hesitated it’s only for a split second, he stuffs a hand into his hoodie pocket for his phone. “There’s something I wanna show you. Not sure if you’re gonna like it much.”

“Can’t be that bad,” he says, but Jimin proffers a look, and Jungkook frowns. “... Right?”

Jimin licks his teeth in a way that makes Jungkook’s stomach drop just slightly.

“Famous last words, bud,” is all he replies.

The slide of the back doors from the kitchen is what jerks your head up, followed by the sound of feet pattering on tiles. Suddenly, there’s a rise of anxiousness. Until you drum into your head that, no , this is nothing for you to be anxious about. There are the natural nerves budding that stem from confrontation, and you think this may be it.

Towel around his shoulders and dampened hair swept back, Jungkook doesn’t notice you at first when he appears by the doorway. He walks, gazes ahead like his legs are functioning on autopilot - but when he does notice you, he could have skidded. The way he halts and how his body almost springs backwards into the kitchen as soon as he sees your form huddled on one end of the couch, and how Basil - the frat’s cat, is curled by your lap, peacefully asleep and indulging in the soft stroke of your knuckles on his head.

His expression mirrors a man who wants so desperately to sink into the floorboards. Or to dash back into the hale storm and fully immerse himself head to toe into the hot tub’s waters and never surface again.

The first few seconds of silence is heavy. As if you’re both still trying to process the presence of the other. It’s an uncomfortable silence you’re not accustomed to when with Jungkook. He’s always leaned more to the quiet side of the spectrum; introverted, introspective. But silences had always been comfortable, even when you two clashed.

You endeavour for eye contact but he’s suddenly so transfixed on a shadow upon the wood flooring.

“Hey,” you begin, quietly, like the walls are listening in on you. It’s enough gentle encouragement for him to peer up. He hides his hangover well but the mirth, the glint; the starry eyedness that reflected in his orbs from the night before is absent, and no amount of hot tub therapy could conceal the physical and mental exhaustion.

“Hey.” He sounds almost breathless, smothers the tremor in his voice with a cough. “You’re … you’re soaked.”

“So are you.” Your tone is apologetic, “Sorry I came on short notice, I messaged you but I don’t think you saw it.”

He winces. “Right - sorry. My phone died. Haven’t checked it since.”

You muster a small smile. “I thought as much.”

Another breath. Another nervous lilt in his voice. “I’m sorry. Not just the phone thing but everything I said to you last night.”

You sigh. “Don’t be. It’s just … I’m surprised you remember what you said.”

He takes a breath, bicep flexing when he rubs anxiously at his nape. “I don’t,” he admits. “Jimin told me. It’s in this video he took last night of Taehyung eating cake off the floor, you could hear my voice in the background.”

“Ah. That explains it.” Your lips pursed. “Did you mean what you said?”

His eyes round and flash to yours. He chews his lip, throws a glance at his feet. “... Yeah,” he whispers.

“Not just the alcohol talking?”

“No.”

You’re quiet, continuing to stroke Basil who’s still fast asleep beside you.

“Sor—“

“Stop apologising,” you snap. You didn’t mean to, but his shoulders tense, and it makes you wallow in guilt that only he out of everyone has been able to make you feel. You haven’t thought this through and now you’re here you’re saying all the wrong things and asking all the wrong questions. But you remember it’s him, and recollect yourself. “Jungkook - it’s just … it’s just a lot to unpack.”

You peer up, his nod is slow, but he gets it.

He’s tired, you see it clear as day. See it in the trudge of his walk, the dim in his eyes, and neither of you talk on the way up. Not until you reach his room.

Despite your protests, he insists you help yourself to his draws for a spare change of dry clothes. It’s with that thought when you realise you still have yet to return several shirts to him with the promise of them all being washed and folded; washed and folded they are, but you never have been great at remembering to give them back. Putting it into perspective - maybe it is a little weird. Weird for two people who fall under the label of best friends. But then again you borrowed clothes from your own roommates all the time to the point you sometimes forgot whose is whose. It isn’t weird. Right?

While Jungkook goes for a brisk shower, you peel off your soaked clothes, hang them over a spot on his clothes rack. His room is mostly devoid of personal touch, though there are a few photos of his high school football days and some of him and his friends pinned to a board. Otherwise, he’s never had much interest for interior decoration, but he likes his room clean and uncluttered.

There’s a knock on the door a few minutes later. “Are you …?”

“Yeah,” you say. “I’m done.”

The door cracks open, and Jungkook appears, adorned in another change of clothes. His hair is still damp, fluffed at the patches that have managed to dry and his cheeks are pink from the heat of the shower, but he’s less rugged than earlier. Still tired, though. So tired that you don’t question it when he makes a beeline for his unmade bed and collapses face-first into his pillow. You perch on the edge, pulling his duvet over him.

He wriggles closer to the wall, like he’s making more room for you to sit. You appreciate the gesture and shuffle closer. Outside, the wind still howls.

“You should dry your hair properly,” you murmur, fingers at the damp ends of his nape.

“Yeah … prob’ly should,” he sighs, muffled where his mouth is buried in his pillow.

You came here to talk about yesterday night, but maybe it’s a conversation for another time. You out of everyone should know how strenuous it is to have a heart-to-heart while being victim to a hangover that gives you the same capacity as someone half-dead.

You’re staring blankly at the wall, so occupied with the whistle of the winds, so lost in the strands between your fingertips - that when you peer down you’re met with half-open shining eyes, and a lazy blinking gaze directed upwards at your face.

“Yes?”

“Nothing,” he murmurs, like clockwork, and buries half his face again into the plush of his pillow. It’s enough time for you to catch the shy tilt of his lips before they hid again. It’s almost ironic, how you’re the one next to him while he nurses a hangover when it’s always been the other way round. Here, he’s so vulnerable. Your mind wanders to the possibility - what if it was the other way around? An alternate universe where it was you who serenaded Jungkook with karaoke and confessed.

In whatever reality, you imagine him to confront you in the way you did now. Perhaps approached it a little differently, would perhaps be a little gentler, but he would never give you the cold shoulder.

For now, you both pretend there’s been no drunken confession. Best friends, like how it’s always been, and you’ll discuss it all when the time comes.

At some point you’re lowering yourself next to him; your head on the same pillow, and your bodies beneath the same blanket. He’s warm.

And it’s peaceful, as comfortable as it always has been.

“Oh my God, where the hell’s your shirt? I haven’t seen you swim once so far,” you scoff, and Hoseok pulls a sour face.

“You’re talking big for being the one in the string bikini.”

You look at him in disbelief. “Yeah, but I actually used the pool?”

“Scooch over, babe.”

Your eyes roll skyward as he plops beside you on the loveseat. It’s another weekend, another frat, another party, another excuse for Hoseok to walk around without a shirt because there’s a pool. Correction: a further excuse for hoards of frat boys to walk around without a shirt, but at this point you’re desensitised to it.

The music booms, a dull vibration you feel through the ground.

Kappa Omega is infamous for their extravagant parties (at least, as extravagant as college parties can go). Compared to others it’s vastly over-the-top, with most of the guys getting in through connections just like how their college applications got past admissions, but it is what it is. They’re not all bad people, they hold parties for fundraisers but sometimes it can’t be helped not to feel sour when you see what they blow their money on. The Kappa Omega mansion is so big that you’d spent a good portion of the beginning of the night lost.

“Lucky bastards,” Hoseok mutters. He’s said that several times this evening. He’s only here for the booze and the cheese tray. He pops open another beer, chucks the bottle opener onto the low table in front of him, besides the cheese tray he stole from the kitchen. “Which frat party was it again when you blacked out and dived into the pool fully clothed? I can’t remember anymore.”

“We don’t talk about that, thanks,” you utter, wrapping your long cardigan tighter around your torso. “Have you by chance seen Jungkook around? I thought he’d be here by now.”

He looks up, mid-way from tipping back his beer. “Yeah, I saw him some time ago.”

“What, where?”

“Sat with some food by himself somewhere.” His arm gestures vaguely. “He looked a little sad. You know, in signature Jungkook fashion, you know how he gets sometimes.”

Your form slumps. “Right,” you murmur. It’s been over two weeks since the last time you saw him. Not that it’s unprecedented. He has football among other commitments that strung him away for days and sometimes weeks at a time, and you had your own as well.

Be that as it may, somehow it feels like the both of you are drawing the whole thing out. Not purposely, but definitely unnecessarily. Neither of you brought it up in your messages to each other either, and it hit you recently that, well - you miss him. You’ve seen him around campus, but never for too long. Nothing more than fleeting sightings of him and his disheveled hair in a half-pony while he rushes to class after football practice; a hand usually holding onto a snack while the other held onto the strap of his half-open duffel bag, but you only had time to exchange a wave and a look that held promise of your next meeting. The fact remains that you miss your best friend, and it would kill you for your friendship to be awkward because of what happened. You had every intention to talk to him tonight in person, and no dallying or delays this time.

Hoseok’s eyes squint your way. “What’s going on between you guys, anyway. You guys a thing or what?”

You sigh, “That’s the thing, I have no idea yet.”

“Yet.” His lips purse, contemplating you. “He really likes you, you know. So, like, go easy on him.”

Your eyes narrow. “How long have you known, then?”

“As if it was hard,” he scoffs, sitting back. “Guy wears his heart on his sleeve. You have to be thick as a brick not to notice.”

“Wow. Thanks,” you deadpan.

He stabs his fork into the blue cheese. “You know why him and Yerim broke up?”

“Oh no,” you morose, frowning, “don’t tell me it was because of me. I talked to her after they broke it off and she said it wasn’t.”

“Not entirely. But I think she was bending the truth a little so that you wouldn’t berate Jungkook about it. She’s a cool girl, really nice and a good sport. Knew you two were close and accepted that like a champ. But -” and he pauses for emphasis. A pause which is seconds too long, and then finally he puts his fork down, clutches one of your hands in both of his, and waits for you until you’re hanging on to his every breath while he chews and swallows the remaining in his mouth. He resumes, brightly, “it’s not my story to tell. So you better go and find him.”

You shove him. Harder this time - enough that he topples over, and he cackles obnoxiously.

“Prick,” you laugh, but rise to your feet. Your gaze spans the backyard, the pool. You spot a hot tub, but it’s filled with other students who are laughing and raucous.

“Ok, I’m going,” you announce, glancing at Hoseok who’s still very much captivated by the cheese tray before him. It does look really good. “See you in a bit.”

“Yeah, yeah, bye.”

The problem with knowing so many people, and having the same friends as those people - is that in situations where you try to pull yourself away from yet another drinking game you’re taken by the elbow by someone else. Having all of your mutual friends congregated in one domain that is the Kappa Omega House has made your search for the ever-elusive Jeon Jungkook a grand Pain in the Ass. He’s like gold dust. You’ve texted him but you’ve yet to receive a reply.

“Hey, have you seen Jungkook?”

“I saw him at the front porch a few minutes ago?”

“... Seriously? I’ve literally just been there.”

You even scrambled over a balcony and leaped over a hedge when you tried to get away from Chad’s third invitation to join the game of chicken fight in the pool (a parkour stunt that you like to think would put Peter Parker to shame). You give yourself a quiet moment to catch your breath.

It’s then you realise you’re in a part of the backyard you swear you haven’t been in before. You can presuppose why. It’s dimly lit, less people, and the boom of the stereo is still loud, but is more of a distant noise in comparison to the other parts of the house you’ve been in. Like what the hell, how big is this place?

“Sooo, you’ve found him yet or what?”

You hear the voice before you see the face.

Unbelievable. So you cross paths with shirtless Hoseok for the third time and yet haven’t so much as had a hair’s glimpse of Jungkook.

“Nope,” you reply, quite miserably, hands stuffing into your cardigan’s large pockets. You feel for your phone. He still hasn’t seen your message. At this point you’re one teetering step away from letting go of the remaining wisps of your dignity and yell his name through a megaphone with a hope he'll come to you instead … you’ve probably done that while drunk before but you’re nowhere near tipsy now, and that’s besides the point.

Behind you, Hoseok hums, quite serene. When you look back you see he’s lowered his back onto the grass, his eyelids shut.

Eyes scanning this part of the backyard, it’s a different ambience to the atmosphere by the pool. More relaxed. There are students either sat or lying on the grass in small groups, their conversations a low murmur with the occasional twinkling sound of someone’s laughter rising above it. There’s a slabbed stone pathway that leads further up the grass, which then disappears behind a tall row of hedges, and with that you find yourself on your feet again.

“As much as it pains me to leave, there’s only so much of you I can take in one evening before I go crazy,” you tell Hoseok, who’s unbothered reply is no more than a lazy thumbs up from his spot on the grass.

It gets darker the further away you are from the house, but you’re led by the quiet warm-white glow of the lawn lights that highlight the path. It calms your mind to a lull that puts you at peace, something you desperately sought after your hopeless goose-chase just minutes prior.

The waters of a hot tub glow blue up ahead. You skid to a stop when you come closer and see someone’s in there; shoulders immersed and their head just above the water’s surface. What’s the phrase? When you stop looking for something, it finds you? That’s probably not how it goes, but it doesn’t matter. After futile searching, hedge jumping and greasy frat boy dodging, you finally found him. Of course he’d be in a place like this.

His eyes are dazed, mesmerised by the ripples in the water that his smallest movements create. He hasn’t yet noticed you coming.

You pad closer. “... Jungkook?” and like a switch, his spine straightens, goes rigid as a ramrod at your voice. He’s blinking, head shaking side to side as if to snap himself out of the trance that clouds his head.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” you exasperate.

He blinks. “You … you have?”

You scoff, amused at the way his brows knit. “Yeah,” you sigh, stopping so your forearms can lean on the sides of the tub. “May I join you?”

After a beat of hesitation - “Of course you can.”

You shrug your long oversized cardigan off of your shoulders, and double check that your phone is still in the pocket before you chuck it in a heap on the bench. You secure your footing on the step, eyes intercepting his own. His Adam's apple bobs when the rest of your body comes into view, and you shiver at the breeze but warmth engulfs you the second you’re in contact with the bubbling water.

“Feels good?” he asks, and you sigh contentedly, leaning back.

“Yeah.” If you really wanted to, you could fall asleep right here, right now. “What is it with you and hot tubs? Always knew you had a thing for them but never asked specifically why. Or does it just feel good?”

“Mainly that. The guys on my team use the excuse that it breaks up the lactic acid in your muscles after training, but it just feels good when you’re sore.”

“Huh.” When you crack an eye open, he’s already looking at you.

His lips purse. “Did you want to talk?” and when you nod he sighs, wearily. “I wanted to, honestly. But I … I guess I never felt ready to hear what you’re going to say.”

You frown. “What do you think I’m going to say?”

“I don’t know. That you don’t feel that way about me, which I’m fine with. I was never meant to let it slip, but I ended up saying all the things I didn’t want you to hear yet. And while I was drunk, of all things.”

You consider this, broach your tone carefully. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

His eyes avert to the water. “... Eventually. It would have been after graduation. No step three beyond telling you, no secret ploy to get you to fall in love with me, I only would have wanted you to know how I felt. I’d leave you alone and we’d finally move on with our lives. And what better timing than after graduation? But that’s not how it turned out, did it?” He laughs, but it’s with rueful discomfort.

“How long?”

He exhales. “A while.”

“I see.” You think hard for a second. “Even when you were with Yerim?”

He gnaws on his bottom lip, but you can tell he’s honest when he replies with, “Yeah. But I never pretended she was you.”

“Of course you didn’t, you’re not that type of person.”

At last, he does smile at that, and seeing the tilt of his mouth settles a warmth in your heart.

Part of you wants to ask what happened between him and Yerim, but you think perhaps it’s for the best you don’t know, at least now. It’s not your business nor his obligation to tell you.

Before you could dwell too much on your oncoming words, you continue barging forward or you’ll chicken out from what you’re going to say next.

“Jungkook,” you begin. “What if I said yes?”

A pause.

“What do you mean?”

“If you asked me out, and I said yes.”

He’s so bewildered he looks as if he’s just been slapped. Suddenly, something more serious shadows his features. “You know I’d never want you to date me just because. I’m fine with rejection, seriously, I’ll get over it. But I don’t want you to settle for less than what you want. You deserve someone you want, and if I’m not that person, that’s fine. You deserve -”

“Last time I checked, you don’t get a say on what it is that I do and don’t deserve. Who I deserve is for me to decide, so stop cutting yourself so short because you’re more decent than most of the guys I know.”

He shifts, looks away. “So what are you saying?”

“Should we try it?”

“What if it doesn’t work out?”

“Then it doesn’t work out,” you say, simply.

“But then it’ll be awkward.”

“You telling me that you became obsessed with me after I flirted with you for one evening while I was drunk already made it awkward. Not like we have anything else to lose.”

A breath of air expels from his nose in a chuckle. “Oh, ouch.”

“Jungkook,” you sigh. “It’s so easy to be around you. If it doesn’t work out, then it doesn’t work out, but how are we supposed to know how it’s going to turn out if we don’t even give it a chance? It’s going to be awkward either way but we’ll figure it out. Like with all the other crap we’ve gone through. I’ve been with enough guys to know that guys like you come far and few between, I trust you enough to want to do this. You’re one of those few guys I know I can trust, alongside Hoseok. Even though he can be a real bitch sometimes.”

Jungkook doesn’t rebuke you, but he laughs. It’s a sound you’ve never been more relieved to hear.

“So what do you think? I don’t want to force you into it. If you don’t want this, I’m fine with it. If you do, I’m fine with that too. Everything on my end is fine, so what about yours?”

If him confessing happened a year, or maybe two years earlier, you don’t think you would have confronted it in the way that you’d done now. You understand why Jungkook wanted to bide his time. You’re stubborn, fiery, and don’t think things through in the way that Jungkook does. If this happened two years ago, you can imagine you’d have yelled at him on impulse, asking him why, why he let it happen.

But there’s a very particular fondness you’ve honed for your best friend that has unfurled in the years of your friendship, to the point you couldn’t possibly imagine yourself putting blame on him for his feelings. It seems being friends with him has really mellowed you. While Hoseok is the friend you’re most similar to, your other pea-in-the-pod, Jungkook is the friend who balances you out. Someone so different to you, yet someone who still knows what makes you tick.

He’s a friend who doesn’t judge, but yet is always first to call you out whenever you’re out of line. A friend who waits until you’re inside of your dorm building before driving away. The type of guy who pays for dinner and doesn’t expect you to pay him back. A friend who makes sure you’re back home safely when you’re drunk, puts a glass of water next to you and watches over you to make sure you don’t choke on your vomit in your sleep.

Finally, after careful consideration, he nods. He nods, finally.

“So we’re doing this then.” You crack a smile, and he finds it difficult to suppress his own.

“Yeah,” he whispers. “Yeah, I guess we are.”

With an unchanging temper, as still and as serene as waters below the turbulent surface - Jungkook is your anchor, he always has been. The anchor that tethers your feet to the earth when the elements threaten to topple you over.

In the blue glow, you shuffle closer forward on your knees.

“Can I kiss you?” you murmur, and he chokes on his saliva, spluttering. You smile sheepishly. “Sorry it’s weird, you don’t have to let me if that’s going too fast. I just … I want to see what it feels like.”

He hesitates. “Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure.”

He mulls it over, but it doesn’t take much thinking. He stares at you, hard. But then you disrupt the stillness with a disarming smile, and unable to resist, he beckons you over. “Come here.”

It’s odd to straddle his lap at first. In the same way it is when you’re getting on a bike for the first time or any kind of first. He doesn’t make any first move, it’s you who he waits to initiate.

The path of your fingers trail slowly upwards, until they’re splayed against his chest. They remain there, and you detect the quick pattering of his heart, the rise of his chest. His breaths are deep but they’re controlled, and he feels sturdy beneath you.

Jungkook is stupid handsome, with the body to match. But that’s not what swells your heart. It’s not what pushes you to move further forward in his lap and finally press your mouth to the seam of his lips before you could think twice.

It’s how tenderly he gazes up at you. With the same sincerity and adoration he’d shown the night he’d confessed drunk. His eyes, an opening to his soul which is a whole other wonder.

When was the last time someone looked at you like that?

The kiss is soft. No sparks, no butterflies on your end - not yet, but somehow it still feels right. Like missing pieces that have finally fallen into place. Warmth and love spills from him. It saturates your body to the very tips of your ears, all the way down to your toes, like a slow, spreading glow. It feels good.

When shy pecks don’t become enough anymore, you get needy, touching and grasping for more of him. His palms press against your lower back, massaging the skin there, and eventually your mouth parts pliant for him.

“Oh,” he croaks, his head leaning forward so his cheek brushes yours. You can’t see his eyes, and you attempt to move but he curtains the planes of his face with his hair.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, having to strain to catch his whisper.

“I’m embarrassed.”

You chuckle, warmth spreading from the spot on your ear that his lips hover over. “How come?”

“Like, there are probably bricks softer than my dick right now. And … I really, really don’t wanna jizz my pants in a Kappa Omega hot tub. I would have hit my lowest point in life if I do.”

“Oh my God.” You’re almost crying, shoulders shaking with how hard you’re laughing.

“Please, I’m so serious right now. I’d never be able to redeem myself.”

“Would jizzing in an obscenely expensive hot tub be so bad?”

“Yes,” he emphasises. “Really bad, actually. Have you heard of that guy who ejaculated in a swimming pool and accidentally got twenty girls pregnant?”

“That sounds like fake news. There’s no way. Sperm aren’t homing torpedoes, Jungkook. They’d be unviable as soon as they’d be in the water. But if you want me to move back, I’ll move back.”

His face is taut, like he’s trying so hard. “Yes, please.” His eyes go stern, but there’s a nervous jitter you feel with the skin beneath your fingertips. “And just because I think it’s worth mentioning, I don’t think we should have sex straight away.”

“Oh. Right. I see,” you deadpan.

It’s his turn to cackle at the dead-set, disappointed look on your face. “What’s with that?”

Your eyes roll. “You know I’m kidding.” You brush the hair out from his eyes. “Jungkook, will you wait for me?”

His expression softens, and he hoists you until you’re pressed impossibly closer.

“Of course I will. However long it needs to be.”

a/n: when jk says you flirted with me the whole night and i became obsessed w you forever, yea that was from b99

originally posted on ao3! thx for reading!!! <33

#jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader

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imagine-loki · 3 years

Text

Blushing in His Colours, Chapter 15

TITLE: Blushing in His Colours CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 15 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki being a Daddy Dom, his adores and loves his little, worships the ground she walks on. She has vaginismus, but he couldn’t be more supportive with her. RATING: M

Mia was a bit disappointed with how slow it was going to take, making progress with the dilators. It had been two weeks and she had been using the smallest one daily, but it was still a struggle getting it in initially. Though she did feel there was a little less resistance than at first.

Loki kept telling her it would take time, there was no rush. And she knew he was right, but at the same time she still wanted to be able to have sex with him properly, sooner rather than later.

He knew that she was eager to get going with it. So he wasn’t overly surprised when he teleported into her room one afternoon and found her lying on her bed with a pillow under her hips, trying to get the next size inside her. But she was clearly frustrated and had tears in her eyes.

‘Mia, what are you doing?’ He asked, making her jump as she hadn’t noticed him appear. She dropped the dilator in surprise.

‘I… I was trying to get the next one in.’ She said shyly, sitting up and closing her legs.

‘Oh sweetling. What did I tell you about trying the next size? Hmm? You’re not ready yet.’ He sat down on the edge of the bed and took the dilator away, cleaning it from lube with his Seidr and having it go back into the box.

She curled herself up a bit and looked at him sheepishly.

‘I know… But the dildo I’ve used before is that size and I’ve been able to get it in before.’ She whined.

‘How many times?’

‘Twice, I think.’

‘And you told me that last time you used it, it took a long time and it wasn’t comfortable, that you then panicked as it hurt pulling it out. Correct?’ Loki said knowingly.

She nodded, looking down. He reached over and cupped her chin, raising her head up so she had to look at him. ‘Dependant on your cycle, sometimes you will be more relaxed and easier aroused than other times. But you need to just take it as slow as your body needs you to. If you force it, you are only going to hurt yourself.’

‘I know, I know.’ She sighed.

‘Come here.’ He motioned her to him with his head and opened up his arms to her.

She crawled over to him and onto his lap, he wrapped his arms around her as she snuggled against her Daddy. He placed his chin atop of her head and slipped his hand under her top, stroking her back softly.

‘Promise me you won’t try the larger one again without me?’

‘I promise.’ She nodded, clinging to his shirt.

‘Good girl.’ He purred, smiling when he felt her squirm a little at his praise.

The team, including Mia, were all relaxing outside on a sunny afternoon. They didn’t have any work to do, so were having a well-deserved day off.

Mia was lying with her head on Loki’s lap, while he was leaning back against a tree, just gently playing with her hair.

‘Is there anything you’d like to do later, sweetling?’ Loki asked quietly, so just Mia would hear. The others were sunbathing not too far from them, but just out of earshot.

Mia smiled and looked up at Loki. ‘Could we go bowling?’ She asked, hopeful.

‘Did someone say bowling?’ Clint said, his head shooting up.

‘Bowling?’ Tony asked, pulling down his sunglasses.

Loki rolled his eyes and face-palmed. ‘I was asking Mia what she wanted to do later, not you lot.’ He grumbled as he draped his arm back down over her chest.

Mia giggled and held onto his arm. ‘Why don’t we all go?’ She suggested.

The team were all keen for it. Loki had hoped to just be alone with Mia, he preferred it when it was just the two of them. But he couldn’t resist her pleading eyes.

Loki was rather impressed with her bowling skills. He wasn’t sure why he never expected her to be so good at it, she was completely thrashing the team. On par with Clint, who was usually the best, was struggling to remain at a tie with her.

Thor had the strength and force to often get strikes if he aimed right, but he was rubbish when it came to just having a few pins left.

Loki was pretty good, almost on par with Clint and Mia. He was able to get the more difficult half strikes compared to the others. Mia wasn’t totally convinced that he wasn’t cheating and using his Seidr, though.

‘Are you using magic?’ She whispered to him when he was catching up on her and Clint on the leader board.

He chuckled and slid his arm around her as she perched on his knee, waiting for her next turn.

‘Me? Cheating? Never!’ He said in mock shock as he squeezed her side playfully, making her giggle. ‘Watch this.’ He whispered into her ear.

She looked over to the team’s lane as he deliberately caused the ball that Tony was about to roll to go flying into the next lane. Mia hid her face into Loki’s neck as she laughed.

The team ripped the piss out of Tony for that shot. He was completely baffled at how he did that. Luckily for Loki, he didn’t see him or Mia sniggering together at the back.

After Clint won the game, only just with Mia coming a close second and Loki third, though he kept saying he allowed her to win, the team grabbed a burger and then went for a few drinks at their favourite pub.

Loki was quite intrigued to see a drunk Mia again. And she didn’t disappoint.

By the time they called it a night, she was dancing and singing drunkly with Natasha and Wanda as they headed up the street towards the taxi rank. The three of them led the way with their arms over one another, staggering about slightly.

Steve had Clint over his shoulder, as Clint had way too much. Thor was joyfully drunk and so was Tony. Loki was drunk too, but not as bad as Clint and the girls. It was Steve, Bruce and Vision who were the adults of the group.

After bundling into a few taxi’s, they all made it back to the compound. Loki and Mia made their way to Loki’s room, but Mia was in a playful mood. She was running ahead of him, laughing as she kept hiding around corners from him.

He rushed after her and whenever he almost had her, she would sprint off again giggling.

‘Come here, you little minx.’ He growled and gave chase again.

Mia looked over her shoulder and squealed when she saw Loki chasing her, hot on her tail. She skidded to a stop right outside his door, she bolted inside when she found it was unlocked and he went charging in after her. She made a dive for his bed and rolled over on it, Loki pounced on top of her and trapped her beneath him.

‘The hunter has captured his prey.’ He growled and leaned down to suck and nibble on her neck, making her laugh and squeal in delight as he slid his hands under her top and started tickling her.

She managed to wriggle downwards and half out from under him, she hooked her legs over his thigh and tried to roll over, attempting to wrestle him. He allowed her to think she was winning for a second, getting him down on his side. But then he got her wrists behind her back and held them in place with one large hand as he flipped her over, so once again she was the one underneath him.

‘You like it when I overpower you, don’t you, sweetling.’ He purred, kissing along her jawline.

She whimpered and quickly nodded. ‘I love how strong you are, Daddy.’ She said as she bit her lower lip, looking at him so innocently.

Loki chuckled and slid his free hand up her chest and he lightly stroked across her neck, then wrapped his hand around her. But didn’t put any pressure on. He was delighted when she tilted her head further back in submission for him, ashamedly, he almost came at the act.

‘Are you going to tie me up?’ She whispered, heart racing at the thought.

He chuckled and nuzzled her nose with his own. ‘Not tonight, my little sweetling. I am rather intoxicated myself.’

That was a rule Loki had added, he would never tie her up when either of them were drunk. She understood why, but right now she so horny and desperately wanted him to lose control with her.

Letting go of her wrists, he cupped her face in both hands and kissed her hungrily, their tongues delved together and made them both moan. But Mia suddenly needed the toilet.

‘Stop! I need to wee! Too much alcohol!’ She whined and started struggling to get out from under him.

Loki fell to the side, laughing. ‘Very sexy, sweetheart.’ He winked at her, letting her go.

‘Sorry, sorry, sorry!’ She chanted as she got off the bed and rushed to the bathroom.

He had almost passed out when she came back, but soon woke when a naked Mia jumped on top of him, resting her head on his chest. She had undressed and dumped her clothes in the bathroom so she was more comfortable.

Grinning, he wrapped his arms around her and sighed in contentment as she quickly fell asleep on top of him, feeling her soft skin under his fingers as he stroked up and down her back for a moment. But he was then quick to follow her to the land of nod.

#Loki #Lover #Submitted fic #submission #blushing in his colours #chapter 15 #fanfichiddles

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c-c-cherry · 4 years

Note

What's the most embarrassing thing each of the Bucci gang has done/has had happen to them?

Ok I took WAY too long on this but I loved this question so much and it was so fun coming up with these. Special thanks to my girl @jjadegreen for helping me!!

**This isn’t NSFW but I’d say its teen and up just because of some of the stuff talked about hehe**

______________________

Mista

-Pre-canon Mista was a bit sick one night so Bruno made him stay home while they all went on this one mission

-So naturally he’s like “HELL YEAH HOME ALONE”

-Bruno forgets his wallet and had to come back a little while later to get it and walks in on him wearing the following:

One of Abbacchio’s signature goth dress robe thing

Like 12 of Bruno’s barrettes all sticking to the top of his head

Fugo’s tie

Narancia’s bandana

All while BLASTING K-Pop at full volume in the living room. And our man is INTO IT. This isn’t just some radio coincidence shit, he was SCREAMING the lyrics. He owns the CDs.

-Bucciarati LOSES IT. Mista has never been so mortified in his life and Bruno has never laughed so hard in his life.

-He promises not to tell the rest of the gang but tells him it’s officially blackmail material

-They never speak of it again but at Christmas Mista opens Bruno’s gift and it's a brand new K-pop CD and everyone thinks its just a gag gift but like

-He definitely listens to it later alone in his room

Bucciarati

Bruno Bucciarati does not get drunk for two main reasons:

He blacks out every time

He’s an absolute lightweight

-The last time Bruno got absolutely piss drunk, he was with Abbacchio and it wasn’t even funny. It was just surreal because Bucciarati never lets himself go to such an extent

-For whatever reason Bruno is like “hey I never drink we should go to the bar or something” after a successful mission

-Even though the legal age of drinking is technically 16 in Italy they leave “the kids” home to watch mean girls or some shit

-Mista tags along too because he’s worried Bruno will get drunk and spill about the unfortunate “K-pop incident”

-My man Bruno drank like two beers and was immediately GONE like he got up and got lost in the bar after way too many drinks and ran into a drag Queen with Abbacchio’s hair

-Said drag queen became Bruno Bucciarati’s new drinking buddy

-He stumbles over to the karaoke contest and gets onstage and grabs the shitty bar mic and screams “THIS GOES OUT TO LEONE I LOVE YOU SO MUCH MWUA TWO YEARS HONEY~” and Mista is just like 👁👄👁

-Because uhhh they have literally been together for two years but everyone in the gang just thinks its a weird on/off thing because they never talk about it

-He sings dancing queen because its by ABBA and both Leone and Mista are fucking screaming with laughter and Abbacchio is filming the entire goddamn thing

-He buys the entire bar drinks they all love him so much

-Afterwards Leone tries to get them home so he leaves them outside while he takes a piss and when he walks back out THEY ARE GONE.

-Mista thought it would be a perfect time for them to get tattoos because his fucking capo is drunk off his ass and there is no better time

-Mista gets these two giant smoking guns on his back and his ass is in SO MUCH PAIN afterward that he leaves Bruno alone while he’s picking out his tattoo to get ice cream

-When he comes back Bruno has a tattoo ON HIS LEFT FOOT THAT SAYS “Never don’t give up.” The tattoo people tried to correct him but he insisted

-Abba finds them and is just like “jesus god” and takes them all to a hotel because there is no way in hell he’s taking them back home like this

-The next morning Bruno remembers absolutely NOTHING and as the gang admires Mista’s giant tattoo they ask if Bruno got one too and he’s like “god no I’m not that irresponsible”

-As soon as they’re alone Abba’s like “you got one on the bottom of your foot” and you can just see the moment Bucciarati’s soul leaves his body

Fugo

-Ok so if y’all didn’t know Fugo literally canonically wears a thong

-This isn’t sexualizing him (also I am indeed a minor don’t harass me) it's just a fact of life. You do you Fugo.

-So he sneaks out of the house once in a while and goes shopping for them cause our man’s gotta live, you know?

-He pops in the underwear store one day and you wanna know who he fucking passes by in the lingerie section?

-Bruno fucking Bucciarati.

-Which isn’t exactly a surprise considering he’s wearing visible lingerie in his tiddy window outfit but like

-That’s like running into your dad at femboy hooters

-Much to his dismay, the man spots him immediately and there’s just this...awkward silence as Fugo is holding this shopping basket of underwear and Bruno is holding the raunchiest piece of clothing he’s ever seen in his life

-They never talk about it again. Fugo finds a different store.

Abbacchio

-The most mortifying moment Abbacchio can live to remember is the first time he told Bucciarati that he loved him

-Pre-canon, our man is NOT having a vibing time

-He gets absolutely wasted with while Bruno’s at his apartment

-He’s the most miserable drunk, so he’s just fucking sobbing and Bucci is sitting there trying to console him and Abbacchio just looks up at him with tears streaking down his face and says “I’m in love with you” and the look on Bruno’s face just makes him feel even more miserable

-The entire night he keeps blubbering about how much he loves him and how much he means to him and how beautiful he is and the entire time Bruno is doing that thing where he tries to cover his face with his hand because our man is mega FLUSTERED up in here

-When he wakes up he remembers EVERYTHING and he wished he didn’t because then maybe he would be able to say that he didn’t mean it

-Bruno is surprisingly just like “Did you really mean it?” and he can’t lie so he just tells the truth and he’s just nonchalantly like “me too”

-Bruno thinks it’ll be a nice wedding story and Abbacchio no longer wants to live on this planet

Narancia

-Mista and Narancia are vibing in the living room one night and Nara tells Mista to grab his gameboy from upstairs

-He says its under his pillow (or else Bruno will take it away every night hehe)

-But you wanna know what else is under Narancia’s pillow? His Diary. No, it’s not a journal or just a blank book, Mista finds a book titled DIARY.

-And the shit in there is priceless.

“Bucciarati is sooo cool. I tried cutting my hair like his, but it didn’t really work. I think I gotta wear this hat for the next couple weeks. Shit. Fuck. If someone takes it off, I’m so fucked.”

“I clogged up the toilet yesterday and was too scared to tell Abba, so I just flushed it again but then the water wouldn’t stop flooding everywhere so I used Aerosmith to explode the toilet and told Abba that it was a stand attack. He believed me. If ANYONE ever finds out, I’m dead.”

“HOLY SHIT. I swallowed a tide pod yesterday and freaked out so I made Giorno turn it into a grape in my stomach with his stand. I almost DIED. But I didn’t so I’m over it. If Giorno ever tells anyone, I’ll kill him.”

-Narancia realizes about ten minutes after Mista left that HOLY SHIT HIS DIARY

-he finds Mista three quarters way through it and gives him $50 not to tell anyone about it.

-The shame never leaves, though

Trish

-Jade gave me a cute headcanon that Trish’s mom was still only teaching her how to properly put on makeup before she died (it's not like there was youtube or anything to teach her either) so our girl Trish only knows the basics

-She puts on lip gloss and blush and mascara and stuff but she’s never even TOUCHED eyeliner and rarely puts on eyeshadow. She doesn’t even wear concealer most of the time (she honestly doesn’t even need to, her skin is baby soft smooth)

-So long story short she kind of misses her mom and remembers how her mom was going to teach her a smokey eye before she died and is determined to teach it to herself now

-So she pulls a little heist and snatches some of Abbacchio’s makeup while they’re all out doing stuff

-She was not prepared for how heavy this shit was. She was used to the lighter, more natural stuff but Abba’s makeup is EXTREME.

-All of his stuff is waterproof so it doesn’t wash off while he’s crying at 3am and it’s just this—dark, heavy stuff.

-She actually hasn’t used a thick, real tube of lipstick before, only those little gloss tubes with the stick because she has smaller lips so when she crouches over with a small makeup mirror in fear of anyone somehow walking in on her and smears Abbacchio’s thick, dark purple lipstick on her lips, she knew she was absolutely fucked. She has no idea how to do this shit, especially not with dark, heavy goth makeup

-The smokey eye does not work. It’s just smeared eyeshadow EVERYWHERE, it looks like she has two giant, awful, black eyes and her first attempt at eyeliner was just—unspeakably horrible

-She has no idea where to start so she just puts on way too much of absolutely everything and immediately regrets it the moment she looks at herself in the bathroom mirror

-Abba comes home early and immediately realizes that some of his makeup is gone and he knows it has to be Trish

-He walks upstairs to confront her but just hears loud, ugly sobbing coming from her room and bursts in only to find her desperately trying to wipe off layers of caked-on water-proof makeup and absolutely failing

-The two of them spend all night taking it off all while Trish is still crying teary apologies to him

-To add in some wholesome Dadbacchio, he teaches her how to properly put everything on the next day <3

Giorno

-Some people forget that as a 15 year old, Giorno sometimes has absolutely no impulse control

-So when Polnareff tells him that he’s the spitting image of his evil, murderous, vampire dad he’s immediately like “haha well I’m gonna go dye my hair now”

-Everyone had something to do that day/night so Giorno waltzes over to the nearest drug store and grabs one of those at-home dying kits (he got dark green cause he thought it would look cool with his new outfit)

-He gets home and has absolutely no idea what he’s doing so he just thinks it’ll work out somehow

-Soooo yeah he does NOT put it in properly at all, he just kind of takes the shit and slathers it all over his hair and doesn’t do his roots and doesn’t put it up and leaves it dripping down his back and stuff and his stupid ass FALLS ASLEEP with the hair dye in

-He wakes up and the sheets are this really awful light green colour but he doesn’t pay any mind to it

-He looks in the mirror and from the front it actually looks good and he gets all excited and decides to wash it out

-When he gets out of the shower it’s this awful disgusting light light ugly green and he almost cries. Almost.

-It looks like someone dunked him in that Nickelodeon slime and he looks at the package and it says the dye will stay in for at least 3 weeks and there aRE TEARY EYES

-He spends the next hour in the shower trying to wash it out. It does not wash out.

-Utterly defeated with his hair matted and donuts practically falling apart, he stumbles over to his room and tries to wash the sheets covered in slime-coloured hair dye which *surprise!!!* doesn’t wash out either!

-He must dispose of the evidence, but of COURSE they’re out of garbage bags so he shoves all the dye kit stuff and the sheets into a mafia body bag and chucks it by the garbage can outside without a single thought

-Which he SHOULD have had a single thought about it, because when they get home and Narancia spots the body bag he’s like “holy shit guys I think Giorno killed someone while we were out”

-So they all panically pop into the house and cautiously try to find Giorno. Fugo finally finds him pacing around his room in the dark and when he flicks on the lights HO-LY SHIT.

-Fugo obviously bursts out into laughter and Bruno books it up the stairs and also starts cackling and Narancia is like “OH MY GOD YOU KILLED SOMEONE LOOKING LIKE THAT?!” and Giorno has to explain to them that the body bag is filled with stained bedsheets (much to his embarrassment)

-Abbacchio takes so many pictures and Giorno is having a nervous breakdown because he cannot live with his hair looking like this

-Bruno makes Abba fix it the next morning and he loves every second of Giorno’s mortification

-The pictures Abbacchio took of that night are framed next to the pictures of Bruno’s wasted karaoke night in his room

______________________

Thank you for the ask, anon!! I’m absolutely exhausted now haha so I’ll scroll through the rest of the asks when I wake up!!

#jjba #ask-c-c-cherry #headcanons #jojo's bizzare adventure golden wind #bucci gang #giorno giovanna

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simsadventures · 4 years

Text

Baby Fever

Summary: You and Bucky desperately try for a baby. One day, a spirit comes to bless the union.

Warnings: myths, Deer Woman/Lady, enchanted forest, smut (MUST BE 18+ TO READ THIS STORY), fluff, swearing

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2549 A/N: This little something was written for the best of the best, @waiting4inspiration and her Myths and Legends Challenge. There are many different explanation for the Deer Woman, a Native American myth, and I’ve chosen to only concentrate on the good characteristics (fertility, love, etc.). She is also believed to be luring cheating men to their deaths, but that’s not where I’m taking the story.

Hope you all will enjoy it, even if it’s a little different to what I normally do. Let me know! xx

Bucky Barnes Masterlist __ Masterlist

Baby Fever II

It was a stressful morning for you. You were currently sitting on the lid of the toilet, counting seconds before you heard your timer telling you that it was already a minute. You would’ve thought it was the longest minute you’ve ever experienced, but, truth be told, it was just one of many. This was the 7th pregnancy test you were taking, and you had the feeling, that just like the rest of them, this one would also be negative. But there still was a string of hope in your heart, and you decided to stick to that.

Bucky was behind the doors, probably waiting as nervously as you were for the results. You both have already been to the fertility doctors, and they told you that while everything was perfectly fine with your eggs, Bucky’s swimmers were not as active, despite his physique.

He knew it would be a chance after all those tests and experiments Hydra did on him, but until he met you, he never thought it would ever be an issue, having kids. He was the Winner Soldier, who would want children with someone like him?

You did. So so much.

And the longer it was that you couldn’t get pregnant, the more you wanted it. Ever since you met Bucky, you knew you’d want a family with him one day. There were other options, of course. But you just wanted to try a few more times before abandoning your dream of carrying a child on your own.

Bucky even suggested one night that maybe you should have a sperm-donor and that way it would work perfectly, but you dismissed this idea altogether. It was either with Bucky or not at all, you were dead-set on it.

When the timer buzzed, you got up on your shaky legs and walked towards the sink. You took a deep breath and turned the stick in your hand to see the result.

Your heart fell.

Only one fucking line, again. You sighed and felt tears streaming down your face again. At that moment, you could hear the door to the bathroom opening, and before you could do anything, Bucky was cradling you in his arms. The look of pure agony on his face at seeing you so upset because he couldn’t deliver. He hated this. He vowed to make you happy and to protect you, to give you all you’ve ever wanted.

But he obviously couldn’t give you this one thing, and it tore his heart apart. You were the last person he wanted to disappoint, but lately, it seemed it was the only thing he was doing.

Before he could overthink too much, you touched his cheek and made him look down at you.

“Stop. I can see your thoughts pretty clearly, and I’m telling you, stop it. It’s not your fault, I’m not putting any blame on you, and I’m sure, not disappointed with you, Bucky. I love you and that is why I want a family with you. If it doesn’t go this way, then we can adopt. I’m fine with that. More than fine actually. All I want is for us to be happy, and we obviously aren’t stressing about this so much. Let’s just stop trying, and maybe it will come one day.”

You smiled up at him, the tears now drying on your beautiful face, and Bucky couldn’t believe his won luck. There you were, the woman of his dreams letting him known of your undying love. He kissed you fiercely, passionately, trying to convey all the emotions he was feeling in this one kiss.

When you both felt like you needed air more than you needed to reassure each other, you pulled away, but only so slightly that your foreheads were touching.

“I love you, doll. More than anything, and I’ll give you a baby, one way or another,” he said in a hushed voice, still panting slightly from the lack of oxygen.

You giggled and kissed the top of his nose before you turned around and threw the stick to the garbage. No more of this nonsense, you decided, and a weight fell off your heart.

—-

Weeks after that, your life improved drastically. No longer hung over the whole pregnancy-thing, you and Bucky could finally fully enjoy sex again, and, oh boy, were you going at it.

The appetite was back and it no longer felt like a chore to neither of you. You felt as if you were back to the beginnings of your relationship, where Bucky would take you any time of a day, just because he felt like it, on any surface of the apartment. You usually woke up sore from the amount of sex you had the previous night, and the glow returned to your cheeks.

The whole team noticed that you both seemed much happier and your steps were lighter than two months ago, and despite not knowing what the cause was, they were all ecstatic for you.

Even after particularly draining mission in India, you two came back smiling at each other. Bucky felt like a teenager again, looking at you with amazement. Not once have you two talked about babies or pregnancy, or vitamins, or anything like that in the last two months, and you honestly did look that much happier now. So he wanted to take you somewhere to appreciate you properly.

Bucky knew that he couldn’t take you to a proper vacation, not with so many Hydra bases still standing, but a few day getaway wouldn’t do anyone any harm. And if you were still on the US soil, you could be with the team in a matter of a few hours, should they need you two.

There were so many options, and it took Bucky (well, and Steve and Sam, because let’s be honest, Bucky felt still a little better with the help of his two friends) a good few hours to actually settle on some destination. He even asked Tony if he didn’t own some kind of cottage somewhere in the woods, anywhere in the US, and when Tony gave him the list of places he could let Bucky and you use for the weekend, and he combined it with the places he actually liked, he finally picked something.

Great Lakes area.

Bucky knew you’ve been there only briefly once when your parents were still alive, and you had fond memories of the place.

And because you had no idea what he was preparing, he wanted to keep the moment of surprise till the two of you landed near Tony’s cottage. Or a villa. Or mansion, or whatever it was Tony actually had there.

—-

The day finally came, and Bucky only told you to pack something a little warmer, but that was it. You, always the curious one, tried to pry for information, but despite Bucky being the one to always tell you everything because he couldn’t resist your charm, this time he was like a fortress. He didn’t even let you look at the destination he put into the GPS in the quinjet.

You were sitting next to Bucky, pouting like a little child, not willing to talk to him because you just NEEDED to know where you were going.

“Relax, doll. We’ll be there soon enough, and you’ll see for yourself,” Bucky mumbled, leaning from his chair towards you to kiss your hair.

You let him, of course, and you huffed.

Bucky just laughed at your childish behaviour and continued to be his relaxed self, which only irked you more.

It was when you finally saw the vast water reservoir in front of you and saw that there were so many of them, that it all dawned on you. You looked at Bucky, who was already watching your reaction, and squealed loudly.

“Is this what I think it is?”

“Well, I’m not sure what you think it is, but, probably? I know how much you enjoyed it here with your parents and I wanted to give you another great memory of this place. This time around, more sex will probably be involved.” Bucky said, laughing at you rolling your eyes at him playfully, still smiling.

When the plane finally landed on Tony’s property, you all but ran out of it to see the whole beauty of the place for yourself. Bucky walked behind you, both of your bags in his hands, and he had to stop and take it all in.

The sun was high up, the nature was awake and singing, and among all this, there you were. You looked like a vision, even in your jeans and sweater. Bucky dropped the bags and ran to you, lifting you off the ground in a bride style, and twirled you around.

The surprised and happy giggles that escaped your lips were music to his ears.

“You like the surprise, Y/N?”

You gave him a kiss for an answer and beamed at him.

When he let you down, you both strode towards the house in front of you, which, to Bucky’s surprise, was a really cozy cottage, and not some crazy high-tech mansion.

The second you looked around the place, you turned around to face Bucky with a smirk plastered on your face.

“How about we go for a little walk? You know, explore the nature here, maybe have a little quickie in the forest, or something, huh?”

Bucky laughed, but pecked your lips, and dragged you out of the house. The image of you pinned against a tree with him pounding into you was motivation enough. He could already feel his cock twitching with interest, and he couldn’t wait to find some secluded place to take you.

You were walking hand in hand, chatting about nothing in particular, just enjoying the closeness between the two of you, while you were getting deeper and deeper into the woods. The whole setting seemed to have changed, there being more and more broad-leaved trees around, with also the temperatures rising significantly, to the point where you had to take your sweater down, and Bucky his leather jacket.

But neither of you really paid attention to it. The only thing that was important at the moment was that you were far away from any peeping Toms in the area.

Bucky saw a tree he like in particular and didn’t waste a second by pushing you against it roughly, cradling your face in his hands and kissing you with fervour. You responded immediately by giving him full access to your mouth, submitting to him fully.

You moaned when he pinched your nipple through your shirt and got to work yourself. You undid his belt and his zipper, finding that he went commando.

You opened your eyes, staring at his already smirking face and raised an eyebrow at him.

“What? I knew I’d want you and it’s just easier this way,” he said, but his voice was muffled by his mouth attacking your neck, and his hands trying to get into your own pants. To his utter surprise, you had the exact same idea as him, and he found you bare under the pair of jeans.

He laughed heartily.

“You’re the one to act surprised, sweetheart. Damn, I even wished you wore a skirt so I could just push it up your thighs and take you straight away.”

“Patience is a virtue, Buck. It will be that much sweeter when you actually pull those pants off of me.”

He smirked and kneeled in front of you, peeling them off, and kissing the skin that was revealed to him by every tug by his hands.

You were wet already, and without the barrier of your panties, he could see the wetness marking your thighs, and he couldn’t wait. He stopped his movement at your ankles, and without a word, he licked your dripping pussy.

The sound that left your mouth was loud enough to wake up any sleeping animal in the woods, but you were far too gone to care. All you wanted was to feel Bucky’s wet tongue in you.

But he didn’t give you much. He just groaned into your core, sending shivers down your spine, and then he pulled away, despite your whines of protest.

“Don’t worry, love. Imma eat you out like never before when we get back, but right now, I just need to be inside you.”

As he said it, he finally freed you off the jeans and stood up, kissing you once again, and could feel his very hard member stroking through your folds.

You bucked your hips, driven purely by the need you felt in your core and the love you felt for Bucky.

He obeyed immediately, his cock catching in your entrance before he gave a hard thrust to be fully sheeted in you.

The gasps and moans were the only things that could be heard around you, and they were loud enough that you didn’t pay much attention to what was happening around you.

From behind one of the trees, a beautiful doe stepped out, her big brown eyes following the limited movements of your bodies against the tree.

You felt as if you were being watched, and when you opened your eyes, you could see her there, just standing, watching. There was something almost human about that doe, but before you could think about it too much, Bucky hit your g-spot precisely, and he had you crying out in pleasure.

Despite the loud noises, the doe was still there.

What you didn’t, and couldn’t know was that you were already on the territory of the Potawatomi tribe, and the deer standing there was not a regular deer.

It was the Deer Woman, the phantom of fertility and love, in which mainly the Native Americans believed, and which was, obviously, very much real.

She watched the two of you in her animal form, feeling the love and adoration you were feeling towards each other surround her and tell her all she needed to know about the two of you. She smiled inwardly, loving the strength of your emotions. She could also feel a specific loss deep inside you, and when she looked well enough, she could see the problem.

And as she was feeling rather generous, she wished the nature and the universe to bless you, to give you the strength to carry a child and send a wave of this blessing towards you.

It felt as if a warm wind hit your insides. It was comfortable, and you credited it to the pleasure you were feeling thanks to your husband.

You were gasping, chanting Bucky’s name over and over again until you climaxed around him, your walls pulsing vigorously trying to milk him of everything he had. And it didn’t take long before Bucky followed your suit, shooting this cum into your warm and ready womb.

When you opened your eyes again, the deer was gone. You smiled to yourself, and let the image of the animal watching you go, feeling a little ashamed that there actually was somebody there, peeping on the two of you.

You two quickly grabbed your clothes and walked briskly out of the woods, the quickie tiring you both.

Little did you know that this trip to the enchanted forest would change your lives forever, in exactly 9 months.

Disclaimer: some places are totally made up, like the “enchanted forest”, for example, but the tribe of Potawatomi is very much real, and it is in this tribe (among many others) that the myth of Deer Woman appears, and they are indeed, to a certain extent present settled around the Great Lakes area. Just wanted to make sure we’re on the same page here :) xx

Bucky Taglist

@this-kitten-is-smitten @sebbbystaaan @paradisiacalsparks @crazybutconfidentaf @owlyannah @lassini @s-trawberryv-eins @reniescarlett

Marvel Taglist

@voltage-my2dlove @kneel-begyourpardon @lumar014 @ptrs-prkrs

Forever Tag:

@eileenalone @sasbb23 @p8tn0lish @coffeebooksandfandom @waiting4inspiration @caswinchester2000 @mogaruke @justthatfangirloverthere @mushyjellybeans @livsheph

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ollyarchive · 3 years

Photo

Interview

Olly Alexander on success, sanity and It's a Sin: 'All those hot guys. I loved it!'

Simon Hattenstone

The Years & Years frontman is starring in Russell T Davies’ new drama about the Aids crisis. He talks about bulimia, his ‘dark’ clubbing days – and how he learned to enjoy filming sex scenes

Mon 11 Jan 2021 06.00 GMT

Olly Alexander was so certain he was destined for success that he saw a therapist to help him prepare for his future fame. It was 2014 and his band Years & Years had just signed to Polydor when he visited the shrink.

“I said: ‘The album’s coming out and I really want it to be successful,’ and he said: ‘What happens if it isn’t?’ I said: ‘Well, that’s not an option because I have planned it in my diary since I was a teenager.’”

That diary was less about chronicling the present than a series of promises he made to himself. “I planned my life till I was 25. I would be a famous musician ’cos musicians were the coolest people in the world. The biggest thing in the list was buying my mum a house, and I did that. That was the coolest thing to be able to do with my money.” He smiles. “That was the coolest thing ever.”

Now Alexander might well benefit from another visit to the shrink because he’s about to become a lot more famous. He stars in It’s a Sin, the brilliant new TV drama by Russell T Davies, about a group of young gay men living and dying through the Aids epidemic in the 1980s. The five-part series is funny, vibrant, sexy and heartbreaking.

This is by no means the first time Alexander has acted – he has appeared in the TV series Skins, films such as Bright Star (about Keats), Gulliver’s Travels and Great Expectations, and on stage in the West End alongside Judi Dench and Ben Whishaw in Peter and Alice; a pretty impressive CV. But with It’s a Sin, he knows he has struck gold. “Some actors would wait their entire careers and not get such a good role,” Alexander says, and he’s right. Davies has made a habit of creating groundbreaking TV series (Queer As Folk, Bob and Rose, Torchwood), and this is his best yet.

Alexander’s character, Ritchie Tozer, is an aspiring actor/singer who has just moved to London from the Isle of Wight in search of fame, fortune and a good shagging. He embraces his new freedoms with promiscuous abandon, while also struggling with his sexuality. Ritchie is equally cocky and vulnerable, lovable and insufferable.

Although It’s a Sin takes place in a time before Alexander was born, he says there are so many ways he relates to Ritchie’s life. There is one crucial difference – whereas Ritchie is secretive, Alexander is an open book. If there’s anything to tell you, he’ll tell you, even if he is embarrassed a second later about his indiscretions. It’s an endearing quality, and one that makes him great company.

We meet in his agent’s east London office in December, when Tier 4 restrictions are yet to kick in. Alexander is a boyish 30 – half punk, half catwalk model, with orange hair, earrings, multiple rings, stylish khaki trousers and a handful of inky tattoos. He is garrulous and giggly with a huge toothy grin.

Like Ritchie, Alexander was a stranger to city life when he came to London. He was born in North Yorkshire, went to primary school in Blackpool and Gloucestershire, and a comprehensive in Monmouth, south Wales. He was a natural performer who wrote his first song at the age of 10. “I performed it in my year six assembly.” Can he remember it? He squirms. “Yeah!” Let’s hear it then? “No!” Oh go on! “OK, OK. ‘The leaves are falling outside my window. I’m lay here all alone,” he sings quietly, in that delicate falsetto. He giggles, blushes and continues. “And now I’m a knowin’, the way it’s goin’, we won’t last for ever, for ever my love.’”

Wow, those lyrics are pretty sophisticated – and melancholy. He giggles again. “Oh thanks. It’s about unrequited love. Doomed love. I was getting in early on my themes. I had a bit of help from my dad.” He wrote it after experiencing his first pangs – for a boy in his class.

At secondary school Alexander was a victim of homophobic bullying. He responded with elan. “I would still come to non-uniform day in eyeliner.” Did he fight back? “Sometimes I would scream. I was not a good fighter. We did rugby a lot at my school – a Welsh school. The one time I scored a try, on the way back to the changing room the two popular boys from the year put their arms around me and said: ‘Well done, Olly,” and I was like: ‘I can’t believe it, this is it!’” He pauses long enough for me to get a glowing feeling. “Then they tripped me up and pushed my face into the mud. That was hard to live down.” After that he never went to another games lesson.

When he was 13, his parents separated, and from then he was brought up by his mother, events organiser Vicki Thornton (his real surname – Alexander is his middle name). His father had been a talented but disappointed singer-songwriter who made a living marketing theme parks. Although he gave young Olly a lifelong passion for adventure rides, there were tensions between the two of them. After his parents split up, he broke off contact with his father. When Alexander became successful, his father tried to rekindle their relationship via Twitter. Alexander wasn’t impressed.

With the sod-you eyeliner and supreme belief that he would make it, he sounds incredibly robust. So what else was in that teenage diary? “Pppprrrr.” He blows his lips as if feeling a sudden chill. “It’s a bit dark. I used to write that I really wanted to be skinny.” He exhales deeply. “My mantra was always: I’m not going to eat this again, I’m not going to eat cake again. I’m never going to eat pasta.” He was barely into his teens when he became bulimic and started to list the things he wouldn’t eat. Actually, he says it was worse than that. “I was writing down: don’t eat, don’t eat, don’t eat. Did he have a weight problem? “I was a little chubby at primary school, but no.” What does he think it came from? “It was something I could control. I felt very out of control in the rest of my life. I was struggling with my sexuality, my parents were divorcing, and I wanted to punish myself.”

I want to give him a hug, but I’m not sure he would appreciate it, particularly in the pandemic. Why did he want to punish himself? “It was self-loathing. I didn’t want to be gay. I was convinced I was the reason my parents were splitting up.” He never considered that their divorce may have had nothing to do with him.

He started to cut himself, too. Has he still got the scars? He points to his upper arms and thighs, “because people can’t see there. I was deeply ashamed of doing it. I wanted to hide it.” Are there many scars? “No. A friend saw a plaster on my arm and jokingly asked if I’d been cutting myself. After that, I was so embarrassed that I mostly stopped doing it. Bulimia carried on well into my 2os, but it became less and less frequent. It’s really hard to hold down any kind of job if you’re throwing up food all the time, and ultimately you have to choose.” It becomes a full-time occupation? “Yes, it’s all you think about. And you’re doing so much damage to your organs. I got taken into hospital once with my mum because I had this irregular heartbeat, which can happen through constant purging, and that really scared me. I thought I’d done something irreparable to my body, and my mum was so distraught. She couldn’t understand why her son was throwing up all the food she was trying to give him. She found out because I hadn’t cleaned the toilet properly.”

After studying performing arts at Hereford College of Arts, he moved to London and was liberated. He had a heady time of it – more drugs, clubbing and sex than even he had hoped for, while also getting regular work as an actor. But there was a downside. He saw friends struggle, sacrifice themselves to excess, fall by the wayside. “Everything was about going out and connecting with people at the clubs. I had a great time, but it was also a dark time. A lot of people took too many drugs. A few friends attempted to take their lives and one succeeded. That was devastating. You can see how easy it is for a party lifestyle to turn into something negative.”

Alexander has a strong survival instinct. There was his destiny to fulfil, the house to buy for his mother. He still struggled with his mental health, so he cut down on the destructive stuff. Today, he says, his main drug of choice is the antidepressant sertraline. “I was worried about longterm use, and the doctor said: ‘Well, the latest research shows it can promote neurogenesis, and I was like that’s the coolest thing ever.” Neurogenesis is the process by which new neurons are formed in the brain. “She was basically saying antidepressants are giving you superpowers, and I was like: ‘Amazing, I’ll keep taking them for ever.’” He starts giggling, and he can’t stop. “Neurogenesis – ooh, I love that. I’m going to be neuro-supercharged.”

Years & Years formed in 2010. Founder member and synth/bass/keyboard player Mikey Goldsworthy heard Alexander singing in the shower and asked if he wanted to become lead singer. When Alexander joined, Years & Years were a five-piece band, before shrinking to an electropop trio (Alexander, Goldsworthy and fellow guitarist and keyboard guru Emre Türkmen). Alexander, the main songwriter, has an ear for great sweeping choruses (think Sam Smith meets Pet Shop Boys with a dash of New Order). Their first album, Communion, went to No 1 in the UK, while the song King topped the singles chart and its follow-up, Shine, reached No 2. Many of their songs are about yearning and doomed love – particularly on their second album, Palo Santo – just like the first one he wrote aged 10.

Alexander also became known as an LGBTQ campaigner. He made a documentary, Growing Up Gay, for the BBC in which he talked to his mother in a tear-filled exchange about coming out; he also interviewed people about struggles with their sexuality, the pressure to be promiscuous and take drugs, and addressed schoolchildren about homophobia and mental health problems. Does he think of himself as an activist? He shakes his head. “It does a disservice to actual activists. There’s a tendency to use that word for anyone in the public eye speaking up about any issue. Going into schools and talking about mental health isn’t activism. I like doing that. If I can be helpful, I want to help.”

The week before we meet he was named celebrity of the year at the British LGBT awards. He doesn’t know why – he says he didn’t do anything in 2020. “Maybe they heard about my upcoming role and got in there early!”

He says he has learned so much from making It’s a Sin – not least about acting, and how tough it can be. “Doing an acting job where you have to turn up every day is really challenging. I was so used to my musician lifestyle, which is usually: get up late, get in a car, get driven to an airport, get on a plane, fall asleep, arrive somewhere, get driven to the venue, roll out of the car and do the show. It was too much like hard work every day. I thought I’d got past this!”

We see a lot of Alexander in It’s a Sin – in every sense. He gets more than his share of sex scenes, and says it was fascinating being taught how to do them properly. So he enjoyed them? “All those hot guys. That aspect I loved! And going into it I thought, I’m going to have so much fun doing this, I’m a confident-ish guy, love having sex, it will be great.” That’s so refreshing, I say, to hear actors admit they enjoy sex scenes.

Ah, well, he says, it wasn’t quite that simple – he initially became self-conscious. “I broke down into hysterical tears, like ‘don’t fucking touch me’. I found it really hard.” Then the intimacy coordinators got to work on him. “They were a life-changing experience. Intimacy coordinators are there for safety ’cos there’s a lot of shit that can go wrong between what a director wants and what an actor wants, and boundaries being crossed. They’re there to rehearse everything beforehand with the director and the performers. You talk about animals you might imitate, the sounds you make.” He pays tribute to intimacy coordinator extraordinaire Ita O’Brien, who introduced the Intimacy on Set guidelines in 2017 and worked on Normal People as well as It’s a Sin. “Anything with sex in it, she’ll be involved. She’ll be on all fours at one point, saying: ‘Now I’m going to be like a cow and moo in ecstasy.’ She’s amazing, amazing, amazing.” And yes, he did start to enjoy the scenes.

Did he find them arousing? Now it’s my turn to blush and I apologise for the question. Did he start to enjoy it too much? “No, that’s what I want to know. What if someone gets a hard-on – how embarrassing would that be? Ita said: ‘It’s natural and normal for certain body parts to get excited and if you get an erection that’s absolutely fine, but it’s not appropriate for the workplace.’” He adds a caveat: “Depending on what kind of job you’re doing. And she said: ‘If that happens, you just take a time out. So you’re all there thinking, OK, how embarrassing – because you say time out and everybody knows it’s because you’ve got a hard-on. Hahahhaa!” Did he have to take a time out? “No!” Did anyone? “Not to my knowledge.”

Who did he have most fun with? “I’d say best kiss was the guy who plays Ash [newcomer Nathaniel Curtis]. Great kisser.” And the best shag? “Sexual simulation,” he corrects me. “Best sexual simulation was Roscoe [Omari Douglas, another relative newcomer].” Has he told them? “It’s all coming out in this article, Simon.” And I can sense him calibrating what he has just said. “It’s going to ruin my standing!” But a second later he changes his mind. “No, that’s a compliment right? I compliment them both. Hahahaha!” And he laughs giddily.

I ask about the future. You sense he’s not sure where to go from here, acting-wise – that it can’t get any better than It’s a Sin. Fortunately, he owes the band an album’s worth of songs. He had them done and dusted before the pandemic. “But all that time in my flat going insane made me realise I didn’t like any of the music, it didn’t feel relevant. I just wanted to start again, which is what I did. Now it’s almost ready – again.”

It will be only their third album in seven years. “I know,” he says. “It’s embarrassing. Ariana Grande has had about five out in the time we’ve done one.” In the meantime, he says, Türkmen has had one baby, with another on the way.

What about his own love life? “It’s pretty dire.” Sex? “I’m hopeful to have more sex … it’s very difficult in the age of Covid if you’re single. I actually tried to lock someone down who would be my ‘friends with benefits’ sex buddy, because I saw that Holland were advising people to do that. In the first lockdown I said: ‘Look, we can just have sex with each other. I trust you, you trust me, we’re not together, but this is an arrangement. I’ve not had sex in six months, what do you think?’ But he said no. I was quite upset. So yeah, not a lot of sex in 2020.” For a split-second, the puckish Alexander looks forlorn. Then he grins his toothiest grin yet. “But I’m hopeful that it will pick up in the new year!”

It’s a Sin is on Channel 4 on 22 January at 9pm

#olly alexander #years & years #years and years #yearsandyears #articles #guardian #interviews #itsasin #boys #acting #television

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queerbutstillhere-writes · 4 years

Text

Day 5: Quarantine

- You can't come over tomorrow.

~ what do you mean? "Can't"?

- Gotham is on quarantine. Mandatory. Only medical personel allowed out. Hell, even the JL grounded us.

• I'm seeing can't, but hearing "help me please"

- guys. This is serious.

• for you, maybe. Timmie, we can't get sick from Covid. Kon is alien, and my metabolism is just too fast for it.

- Bart..

~ he's right, Tim.

- Do not encourage him, Kon.

- you two are not allowed to come.

Tim sighed, staring at his laptop monitor. He’d been stuck in quarantine for several days now. Alone in his apartment. He could probably suit up and hightail it across town to get to the manor if he wanted, but being quarantined alone sounded far more appealing then bring quarantined in the manor with his siblings. Dick would probably drag him into nightly board (read: bored) games, Bruce would be constantly trying to bond, Damian would probably never stop insulting him. Duke and Cass would probably be fine, but Duke was easily roped into Dick's shenanigans, and Cass had that habit of creeping up on you.

No. Tim would survive being stuck alone, working on case files and reading news headlines. Today's news was singing the praises of Wayne Enterprises for their massive donations to research centers, the city, and for them paying for housing and healthcare for homeless. They were also praising Bruce for personally paying for the Covid testing and for paying for food and housing costs for those who couldn't afford it. Bruce had enough money to do so, so he might as well, right?

Amusingly, Tim had seen a headline from Star City about Red Hood and Arsenal highjacking a supply truck full of toilet paper and medical supplies and redistributing it among the poor and homeless, as well as stealing from some stores and making care packages for the homeless.

But now, his idiot boyfriends, severely upsetted by the fact that their Thursday date night had been cancelled, were texting and calling him non-stop, trying to convince him to let them come, finding out if he needed anything ("do you have food?" "Yes, Kon." "I'm talking real food, Tim. Not some Rice Krispies and a few boxes of cereal." "Conner."), and constantly fretting over him. Did he mention they kept whining about missing date night? Well they did. Even the suggestion that they could still hang out with each other didn't appease them. ("But we need our Robin! Our birdie!")

Tim Drake was a smart man. He was a good detective. If he had been at the manor, he'd probably be working with Bruce to develop faster testing, or figure out cures. But what Tim forgot, is how truly, truly, dumb his boyfriends are.

So he really shouldn't have been surprised to hear his door open on Thursday evening.

But yet, he was.

He shot up off his sofa, spinning towards the door. He hadn't changed in a day, and probably hadn't showered in three. His apartment was a mess and honestly he didn't remember what he had for breakfast that day. But yet he grabbed the nearest thing to him, an empty metal waterbottle, and brandished it as a weapon.

"Oh, I'm so scared," a chipper voice said, with a laugh.

"Bart?!" Tim exclaimed, half in shock and anger.

Standing in the entry way of his apartment was Bart Allen and Conner Kent. Conner was carrying several bags of groceries, and Bart had a couple jugs of milk and juice.

"What are you two doing?!" Tim hissed, glaring.

"Uh, visiting, duh?"

Bart zipped to the fridge, putting up his jugs, and then dumping a backpack that Tim hadn't noticed earlier onto the floor.

"Bart," Tim said, his tone dropping to his more commanding, Robin voice.

He noted Kon was also carrying a duffel bag. The man just smiled and then turned to walk into the kitchen.

"Nonono, I know what's going on here, you two aren't staying."

"Why not? We can't get it, and you're just gonna . . ." Bart motioned at the messy living room. "Besides, what if we quarantine ourselves with you."

"Well, because! Because. . . " Tim scowled at him.

He was starting to lose his energy to argue. And he was getting pretty lonely. And this . . . He wasn't wrong either. They could just quarantine together. . .

"And also, now if you need something, one of us can just zip over to metropolis and pick it up, or go do laundry at Clark and Lo's," Kon called from the kitchen.

"And if you do get sick! You'll have us to look after you!" Bart exclaimed, zipping over and kissing Tim before he could protest.

Tim glared at him from just a few inches away, then at Conner, who had moved to the doorway. They both just grinned at him.

"Fine. Fine! You can stay!" He exclaimed, defeated.

Bart whooped and kissed Tim again.

"Okay, first things first. You need to take a shower, man," Bart told him, wrinkling his nose. "Or else no cuddles."

Tim, touch starved as always, found himself immediately hating that idea.

"Also, we need to clean this place up. So, you go shower and brush your teeth and shave and stuff - or don't shave - and Kon and I will clean up and start supper!"

Tim huffed at him, but obeyed, heading towards the bathroom, stopping by Conner first to give him a quick kiss. Kon just grinned and pulled him in close, tweaking Tim's nose before kissing him. Then he shoved Tim towards the bathroom.

He went through the bedroom first, snagging some clean clothes, and then went into the bathroom. He quickly stripped and showered, making sure to clean his hair thoroughly, he shaved when he got out, and quickly brushed his teeth as instructed, because frankly, he didn't remember the last time he had done that and didn't want to make his boyfriends deal with that.

When he got back out, admittedly feeling a little better, he noted Bart and Kon's bags on his bed. He just sighed and shook his head, walking back to the main room. He could already smell the tomatoey scents of Italian food, and wondered what all those two had actually brought with them. There was some form of pop music playing, and he could hear Bart happily singing along to it, Kon chiming in occasionally with the choruses. Tim chuckled and looked around the living room.

They had cleaned up trash and dishes and fixed the pillows on the sofa. The curtains had been opened, and a candle was burning on the coffee table and all the glasses and mugs and plates had been removed. Tim walked over and leaned against the kitchen doorway, watching Bart dart around and cook, while Kon washed dishes.

"This that hot girl bummer anthem. Turn it up and throw a tantrum~" Bart sang, doing a little dance as he darted from the fridge back to the stove, throwing a few things into a sauce.

"What are you making?" Tim asked softly, but they both heard him.

"Hey! He's clean!" Bart announced cheerfully. "And I am making lasagna! Max's special recipe."

Tim hummed in response, grinning back at the speedster.

"So are you two going to eat me out of house and home by the end of tomorrow, or?"

Kon shot Tim a smirk. "Depends."

"Ugh, Kent! I meant food!"

Conner laughed, rinsing one last dish before drying his hands, walking over and pulling Tim up against his front.

"I never said that wasn't what I meant, did I?"

"No. . . But with you there's always some kind of innuendo."

Kon huffed in mock annoyance, before ducking his head and gently kissing Tim a few times. Tim tilted his face up and obliged, wrapping his arms around Kon's neck.

"I missed you," Kon mumbled lightly, his hands sneaking up Tim's soft cotton shirt that may or may not have belonged to Kon at some point.

"I missed you too," Tim responded instinctually, not really realizing exactly how true that was.

"Then why didn't you let us come sooner?" Bart's voice asked and then he was slipping between their arms, sandwiching himself between them.

Tim laughed, giving the pouting Bart a few kisses, turning him from pouty Bart to smiley Bart.

"Because I didn't want you guys getting sick."

"Tim we literally can't."

"Did you confirm that?"

"Yeah. I called Lex and asked. And you know as well as I do that Bart can't get sick from these things."

Tim sighed, looking down at Bart, then up at Kon. "Well either way, it's too late now."

Once the lasagna was in the oven, Bart made Tim help him finish cleaning, sweeping floors and dusting things, meanwhile Kon just sat by and gave unhelpful commentary and got occasionally whacked with cleaning supplies. Once the apartment was properly cleaned, and feeling much better, they decided to properly move Bart and Kon into Tim's room, even though they had stated they'd probably be leaving to get more clothes and such. And probably their dogs.

Tim sat on his bed and watched them unpack bathroom supplies and clothes and other various personal items. Phone chargers got plugged in his few remaining wall outlets and things got shoved into previously neat areas.

"Were you really gonna stay here all by your lonesome?" Bart asked, flopping down onto the bed next to Tim and idly bumping his thigh with his knee.

"It wouldn't have been forever, Bart. I was probably gonna go to the manor eventually."

"Ew, and be around your brothers?"

"They are my family, Bart."

"I know but still. . . "

Tim chuckled and shook his head fondly, moving to lay partially over Bart and softly kiss him.

"Wait, is Keystone even in quarantine yet?"

"Uhhh." Bart grinned sheepishly.

"Bartholomew!"

Bart just giggled a little. "I'm sorry, but I wanted to come too!"

Tim just shook his head and then dropped it to Bart's chest, laying on him and listening to his breathing.

"Hey, this looks like a cuddle pile in the making."

Both of them groaned when Kon flopped - gently - on top of Tim.

"Kon you big lug! Get off!" Tim whined, pushing up on his hands and knees, trying to dislodge Kon, who didn't move.

"Why, I thought you liked cuddle piles?" Kon giggled out, nuzzling at Tim's neck and causing him to squeak.

"Not when I'm being squished!"

Kon gave an over dramatic groan, but moved, rolling and pulling them both on top of him. It took a bit of squirming before they were comfortable, one on either side of Kon, heads on his shoulder, hands clasped on top of his stomach. They laid there and chatted idly, with no concern for anything that might interrupt their lives.

"Bart the oven is going off."

And just like that, Bart was gone. A couple seconds passed, then he was back, snuggling right up against Kon again.

"Where were we?"

Both Kon and Tim just started laughing.

Once dinner was ready, they sat on the sofa and binged a couple episodes of Broadchurch before settling into another cuddle pile. Their default form was cuddle pile. Then eventually Bart got bored with sitting still, so they turned on Mario Kart, played a few normal rounds to watch Kon and Bart suffer, then Tim turned on the mod he had made to make the game go super fast.

He had learned not to watch the screen while this was happening. That's how you got eye damage.

"I'm gonna go do a little patrolling," Kon said, standing after Bart had beat him, again.

"Oh. Okay. Be careful, give a call if you need any help," Tim said, looking up from his laptop.

"Yeah, if I need anything, I'll call Bart."

"Kon."

"Hey, you're grounded, remember?"

Tim sighed, stretching up so Kon could kiss him. Kon chuckled and did so, then bent over the back of the sofa to kiss Bart, before disappearing into the bedroom to change. Then he called a goodbye on the way out the window. Tim and Bart looked at each other.

"So what are we doing then?"

Tim shrugged vaguely and looked back at his laptop.

"Well I'm gonna keep playing my game then."

"Okay."

Bart left him alone for a solid twenty minutes, which was a bit of a record for him, then he was tugging on Tim's laptop, trying to steal it.

"Yes, Bart?"

"I wanna cuddle."

"Cuddle?"

Bart's silence cause Tim to look over, and found he was pouting. Tim chuckled and saved his files, setting the laptop on the floor, then moving so his back was on an armrest, and opened his arms for Bart. Bart practically dove forwards, laying between Tim's legs, head on his chest, arms around his stomach. Tim chuckled and adjusted a bit for his own comfort, then let himself relax with Bart.

Eventually they turned on a movie and just laid together, idly chatting. There would be plenty of time for work later, Tim decided. But for now, he'd spend time with Bart. He may be stuck with these two for months before restrictions laxed, but he would take every moment he could, just to spend time with them while he could.

Kon got back after a few hours, stumbling back through the window, and giving them a grin, but he didn't come over, just walked away into the bathroom, leaving the scent of soot and acid in his wake.

"He's stinky," Bart remarked, still laying on Tim's chest.

"Hmmn, stinky boy."

Bart sniggered. Tim had, at some point, set his laptop on Bart's ass and was still working. Was it the most effective or romantic? No. But Bart didn't mind and it was keeping Tim from getting bored.

Then his phone started ringing.

"Bart, grab that for me please?"

Bart quickly grabbed the phone from the coffee table before immediately settling back into place.

"Yello?"

"Hey, Timmy."

"Hi Dick, what's up?"

"Nothing, just wanted to check in and see how things were going with you."

Tim glanced down at Bart.

"I'm okay."

"Yeah? Just hanging out and working on cases, I assume?"

"Yeah, I'm working on that March case."

Dick hummed from across the line.

"Well, are you sure you don't want to come to the manor?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. Honestly I'm surprised you're there. I thought you'd be with Wally?"

There was a pause.

"I was going to, but he got directly exposed the day before he was supposed to come down, and he didn't want to risk it until he discovered if speedsters could actually catch it."

"Hmmn, I have it on good authority they can't."

"Is that so?"

"Yup."

"They're there with you, aren't they?"

Tim just grinned, even though Dick couldn't see it. His brother laughed.

"Tim, you scoundrel."

"Listen, I told them no, they wouldn't listen to me, and then when they showed up, it was too late because Bart like, immediately kissed me."

"Hell yeah I did."

Dick just laughed again. Tim could envision him fondly shaking his head.

"So, I'll let you go then, I'm sure you guys have some catching up to do, if you know what I mean."

"Oh my god, shut up," Tim laughed out, even as he started playing with Bart's hair.

"Just speaking the truth!"

"Goodbye, Dick."

"Bye, Timmy! Love you, stay safe!"

"You too!"

Tim hung up the phone and let it fall to the ground beside the sofa.

"Oh good, you're off. I didn't want to come do this with your brother still on the phone."

Tim tilted his head back to see a shirtless Kon standing over him, grinning, hair still dripping slightly from his shower. He bent down and deeply kissed Tim. Tim gave a surprised noise and reached a hand up, resting it on Kon's jaw. When he pulled away, leaving Tim breathless, he just grinned mischievously, then moved so he was closer to Bart.

"Bartie."

"Hmmn?" When the ginger picked his head up, Kon kissed him the same.

Bart just grinned at him after, and put his head back on Tim's chest.

"Do you guys want a snack, because I'm starving."

Tim watched Kon walk away, and just had to laugh.

It was lucky the three of them were huge cuddlers, because otherwise they would not have fit in Tim's queen sized bed. Not with Kon's huge shoulders. After their snacks, Bart had to literally steal Tim's laptop, and then Kon decided to carry him to the bathroom to get ready for bed, instead of just letting him walk.

As the three of them laid in bed, a few minutes later, more focused on lazily kissing then actually sleeping, Tim decided that if he was going to be quarantined anywhere, being in his apartment with his amazing, dumb, loving boyfriends couldn't be the worst solution. And it was, by far, preferable over going to the manor. So he would happily keep his mouth shut and let them fret over him. Because he loved them. And they loved him.

@core-disaster-week-2020 originally written for @unknownunseenunheard !!

#timkonbart week #core disaster week #core disaster #timkonbart #tim drake #conner kent #bart allen #covid #covid 19 #pandemic #covid pandemic #covid quarantine #dick grayson #queerbutstillhere writes

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dibidibifiction · 3 years

Text

Summer To Fall

Paring: Kim Jonghyun x Lee Taemin (Jongtae)

Category: soft romance; fluff

Word count: 1.7k

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction made for personal entertainment of readers. The writer does not ever intend to offend her readers nor does she aim to spread false information about anyone as to pay any disrespect to the real-life persons whom the characters are based on. She also does not claim ownership to any of the images that are being used.

masterlist

. . .

I don’t know why I’m still nervous now even when Jonghyun Hyung visited me earlier today during my performance broadcast to surprise me for celebrating my comeback. I am now at home, waiting for him to arrive from his parents house to announce his official discharge from the military. Even though we’ve known each other for more than a decade, I can’t help but worry that things might turn awkward for us.

I didn’t know how to react when Jonghyun Hyung surprise-visited me today, still in his uniform. I knew that I was extremely happy to see him but with all those people surrounding us and since I’m still new to this, I’m afraid they might suspect us. I hugged him properly and tightly only when we were finally left alone in my waiting room. Knowing him, he’d cry, which I always find endearing. I asked him why.

“I just missed you so much and you were amazing out there. I’m so proud of you,” he explained, his voice slightly faint and nasal from crying too much.

I looked into his puffy eyes and smiled goofily for seeing his face again after one long year.

“Okay, I have to save some tears for my family,” he joked, sniffling.

Jonghyun Hyung and I had been texting back and forth during his year of service. Almost every night, he would call me on video chat before he had to turn in his phone.

Around four months ago, it was a normal day for the both of us. However, he was acting strangely. He seemed extra jumpy and he talked so fast that I could barely understand what he was saying.

“What is wrong with you today?” I asked. He always told me whenever something was bothering him, but apparently, not this time.

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re acting weird.”

He paused for a while there. He aimed the camera away from his face for me to see only his shoulder.

“Hyung?” I called for him but he didn’t respond right away. We stayed like this for a whole five minutes, just me getting dizzy from watching my screen going round and round.

“Taemin, there’s something that I’ve been putting off telling you,” he started once the camera stopped spinning and I can see his face again. “You know how we’ve been spending time like this lately, and I must tell you, I’ve been very happy. Like, really very happy. I’ve been thinking about this a lot,” his voice sounded breathy.

I just continued to listen to him, quite confused, waiting for further information.

“I’ve been thinking about this a lot and...” he repeated, seeming fidgety. “I like you, Taemin.”

There was long silence. I had no idea what to say.

Next thing I know is that he said “Okay, good night!” and hung up. But he followed it by a text message saying, It’s okay, you don’t have to give an answer right now. Just tell me whenever you’re ready. Sleep well.~

We didn’t talk for a while after that, but we still texted. I began preparing for my comeback, weeks of practicing vocals and choreographies, plus video shootings. I became so busy that I almost didn’t think about what he told me.

After over two months of nonstop working, I finally caught days of break. I got to relax, thought about everything. My feelings for Jonghyun Hyung were always there but I guess I never really thought of it deeply since I didn’t think it was a big deal. When I heard it directly from him, although shocked and a little confused, I felt so happy as if my heart wanted to jump out of my body and run to him.

Talking to him by the end of every day is the moment I always looked forward to. I got unreasonably worried when I hadn’t heard from him all day. I was disappointed some nights that he’s too exhausted to talk and he had to go to bed early.

I had to tell him, too, how I felt so I decided to finally call him.

I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that he left to serve the military simply as Jonghyun Hyung and came back as my Jonghyun Hyung. It’s insane to think about. I don’t think I felt this blissful in my life. Talk about timing. I feel like running and jumping and screaming!

As I’m just sitting on my couch, still waiting for him to arrive, I feel restless, fidgeting my knees. My heart drops when I hear a knock on the door.

A gorgeous man appears before me holding a bouquet of flowers. “Congratulations, Taemin!” Jonghyun Hyung greets me with a sing-song voice.

I giggle at his cuteness of a smile. I gesture him to step inside as I took the bouquet from his hands. “Thank you, Hyung!” I say, trying not to sound too happy while I hug him.

After I offer him something to drink, we settle down on my couch. I inform him of my promotion process since he asked how I was doing first. Then I just watch him tell me all about his experience in the military. Eventually, his laugh is the only sound I’m hearing, and his smile is the only thing I’m seeing. It’s the most beautiful thing.

We talk for hours. Time passes by so quickly tonight that we lost track.

“By the way, where is your uniform?” I ask him.

“At home, why? Did you like how it looked on me?” he says, reading my mind.

I laugh. I’m too shy to admit that he did look hot in that military uniform. “Yeah, I think you looked taller in that,” I tease him instead.

“Hey!” he shouts, then punches me on my arm playfully.

I change the topic after we finish laughing. “It’s getting late, do you want me to drive you home?”

“Well...” He pauses for a moment, probably thinking how he should put what he’s about to say. “I was hoping I could stay here?”

“Huh?” Just like that I feel uneasy again. “Here?” My eyes eventually widen at him even when I don’t mean to. I don’t remember the last time I blinked.

“Forget it.” He’s laughing but I can hear the frustration in his voice. “I’ll just go.” He stands up from the couch and is about to head to the front door.

“Hyung!” I didn’t mean to yell. “I want you to stay,” I say gutlessly. He turns around to face me again.

“Why?” He reveals his frown this time.

“Day after tomorrow,” I try, but stuttering. “I will be busy again for the rest of the week so I might not be able to see you again for a while. So…”

“Taemin, obviously, you’re still not comfortable with this. It’s okay. I understand that this will take time. I’m still adjusting myself.” It’s true what he just said but I do want him to stay. I want…

Him.

My mind is out of control as my built-up desires take over. I run to him and clash my lips against his, drawing him even closer to me by his hips. I pull away after a moment. “But if you really want to go—”

He hushes me by clashing our lips together again even before I can catch my breath, this time it’s more tender but lustful.

His hands are now grasping my face and mine are starting to slide down at the top of his butt cheeks. Our bodies are colliding naturally, making me feel his hard-on against mine as our tongues taste each other.

He pulls away after a few minutes, already breathless. He looks in my eyes fiercely, biting his own lip. “I’m going to wash up,” he says, without changing his expression. He then goes running to my bathroom and slamming the door shut.

I’m finally able to breathe and just realizing that my heart is beating harder and faster. I can’t help but giggle at myself and fall back to the couch while I feel my face burning with my palms where he just touched me. “Hyung, what are you doing to me?”

. . .

I slowly open my eyes awake, feeling Hyung’s warm embrace wrapped around me from behind. I can also feel his breath against my ear. My heart is already full even when my day literally has just started. This has been the best sleep I’ve had in as long as I can remember.

“Taemin,” I hear him moan. He must’ve felt me waking up.

I carefully roll my whole body around to face him, then watch his precious skin shine along the morning light.

“How did you sleep?” he asks, his voice raspy.

“Perfect,” I say, smiling widely already.

I get out of bed to go to the toilet and let him linger on my bare ass.

I hear him sigh and chuckle, making me smile even wider.

I went back to the bedroom with a question in mind. “Hyung,” I call for him, rejoining him in bed. I hesitate.

“What is it?” He stares at me waiting to hear something else.

I look down for a second to think. “When did you start liking me?”

“Well,” he starts immediately, not breaking eye contact which makes my cheeks feel hot. “I asked myself that question a lot, too, way before I confessed to you. Of course it was confusing at first but it was no use fighting it. I have no idea when I started to like you, just like how no one knows when exactly the weather turns from spring to summer or from summer to fall. Eventually, I just started feeling differently towards you. A feeling that is hard to explain through words.”

I just nod lightly, looking down at his bare muscled chest. Once again, not knowing how to respond. He pretty much spelled out my answer to that question too.

He scoots closer to me and touches my nose with his, his forehead on mine. “I’m just lucky enough that you like me too,” he says, tears shape up in his eyes.

“Oh, Hyung,” I empathize, putting my arm around him. “I can’t wait to tell the guys.”

“Really? You want to tell them right away?”

“Yes, they’re our best friends. I’m sure they’ll be happy for us.”

“Okay, let’s tell them together then.”

After we have our little conversation, we just stay nose to nose and embrace each other’s blissful presence for a while. Then once again, our mouths touch, as well as our naked bodies, and experience the taste of pleasure we have for each other.

#jongtae #SHINee FanFic #shinee taemin #shinee jonghyun #jongtae fluff #jongtae fanfic #shinee fanfics #kim jonghyun #lee taemin #taemin fanfic #jonghyun fanfic

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kitten-anarchy · 4 years

Text

frenemies (TUA Fanfic)

TUA | BAD THINGS HAPPEN BINGO

PROMPT: ENEMY TURNED CARETAKER

(ao3 link)

TWS: emetophobia (vomiting), the handler is kind of creepy (not sexually!! PSA: if i see anyone tag this as ship, i’m gonna break your kneecaps :D) = Five wakes to a pounding, ear-splitting headache.

His vision is blurry, black spots dancing in his vision, and he can barely keep himself from throwing up. Instinctively, his hands go to wipe his nose, expecting the usual trail of blood that comes with overusing his powers. His hands come back dry - not even a fleck of dried blood on them.

Did I get kidnapped?

He bites back a groan of annoyance. Of course. Five is not unfamiliar with the infamous Hargreeves family luck. It's his own fault for letting his guard down; after getting stranded for forty-five years and stopping two apocalypses, he really should know better then to expect one day off.

Rubbing his aching head, Five takes stock of the room. It's a simple thing, four smooth stone walls with only a single door across from where he's sitting. Annoyingly enough, he's attached to a monitor and an IV. Normally, Five wouldn't think twice about removing the wires and jumping out, but just the thought of it makes his head spin.

He'll have to suck it up. You're fifty-eight years old, Five. You can handle a little pain. Get over yourself.

Five swings his legs off the bed, shivering slightly as his bare feet touch the cold concrete flooring. The freezing air easily penetrates the thin white hospital gown. He slowly makes his way towards the wooden door. It's annoying, feeling this weak and vulnerable. It doesn't help that he doesn't have access to his powers. At the very least, he can take comfort in the fact that his siblings aren't-

His siblings.

Fuck, where are his siblings? Are they in here with him? Shit. Shit.

Don't panic, Five, Dolores would say. Take a deep breath. I'm sure they're fine.

Right, right. They're thirty years old, and they can hold their own in a fight. They'll be fine.

(They're thirty years old, and they can hold their own in a fight, but that didn't help them against the end of the world.)

He starts making his way quicker to the door, ignoring the way the burning taste of bile that fills his mouth. He tries the door - it's locked. Of course it is.

He doesn't have time for this.

Five dislikes blinking into unknown areas - anyone or anything could be there, and while Five is confidant he can still put up a damn good fight if need be, he doesn't want to risk it. The wood is thin, though, and Five can't hear or see anything passing by. Concentrating, he blinks into a mostly empty hallway.

He throws up on the spot.

Sinking to his knees, Five chokes, phlegm and blood littering the bile splattering the cold cement flooring. The flickering fluorescent light bulb makes his nausea worse, and his eyes squeeze shut as another heave wracks his shaky, weak body.

His head spins.

Everything spins.

It all blurs together, and Five can't tell the walls from the floor from the ceiling from the door from the floor.

Between heaves, he can faintly make out the faint sound of footsteps. His powers don't work. His throw-up cools around his fingers, sticky and gross. His powers don't work. The footsteps grow louder. His powers don't work. Cool fingers card their way through his sweaty hair.

"Oh, Five," a voice tuts. The air suddenly smells sweet, crusty and sickeningly so, a faint undercurrent of smoke reminding Five of burnt caramel. He dry-heaves again. "Look at the mess you've made. Good little boys don't throw up on the floor."

Don't fucking patronize me, he wants to hiss but the words dry up in his throat as he looks up. The Handler smiles down at him, easily picking him up bridal style. "You should go back to bed," she says. "You're not well."

He struggles in her grip, clawing at her throat as her sharp nails dig deeper into his legs and shoulders. His limbs are weak, bones shaky like jelly. "Don't fucking touch me." Five snarls, clawing and scratching but she won't put him down. How the hell is she even alive? What the fuck does he have to do to make sure she dies and stays dead?

"Relax, dear," They aren't going back to the room, instead walking down the hallway. They pass by more doors, all the same - 009, 010, 011... it just keeps going. Where the hell is she taking him? Where the hell is she taking him? "I don't know if you've noticed, but you're covered in vomit. You need a change of clothes, mister!"

"Where am I?" He tries to sound intimidating, or at least vaguely unaffected, and fails horribly. Five's voice fails him, hoarse and barely above a whisper. The Handler is enjoying this - he can tell. There's a slight curve to her mouth whenever she glances down at Five's small and pitiful form. She's in control here, and they both know it.

The Handler stumbles suddenly, jerking Five, and he buries his face into her stomach at the sharp burst of nausea. He can practically feel her smirk. "I don't know if I should tell you, Five," she sings as they continue down the hall. "What's the magic word?"

"Fuck you," he snaps. He hates this - weak, shaky, and feverish, stuck in the arms of a monster. "Fuck you." They enter the bathroom, grey and sterile, and she sets Five down on the toilet.

"That's not very nice," The Handler hums, running the bath water. "Say that you're sorry, Five." He's not, but she's walking towards him, and his powers don't work, and she's trapping him against the cold porcelain, and his powers don't work, and her sharp nails are digging their way down his neck, and his powers don't work-

"I'm sorry." He chokes out.

"I forgive you," she says, easily. "Now, let's get you into the tub."

"What the hell are you doing?" He snaps as her fingers reach to tug at the strings of his hospital gown. Five has no idea what she's planning, but he does know that the thin, flimsy fabric is the only barrier between him and her, and he intends to keep it that way.

The Handler chuckles. "You can't take a bath with clothes on, silly!'

"I'm not taking a bath while you're in here."

"Oh, but it's for your own good! I mean, just look at you!" she says slyly. Five bats away the hand reaching to stroke his cheek. "So weak and helpless... you're covered in your own sick. You need help. I'm a mother at heart, you know." Yeah, sure. She knows as much about parenting as his own father did. "You're so stubborn, Five. Fine, fine. I'll leave to get you some new clothes. If you slip and crack your head open, it's not my fault."

True to her word, she leaves, finally leaving him alone. There's no windows in here either, unfortunately, and the only vent he sees is far too small for even this stupid prepubescent form to fit into. The door is locked from the outside, and Five really doesn't want a repeat of last time.

Sighing, he unties the gown and steps into the lukewarm water. His limbs are still shaky and weak, and for a second Five really is convinced he'll crack his head open. Though it hurts to curl his fingers, he keeps a tight grip on the sides of the tub as he lowers himself down.

Some food would help him regain his strength - if his former employer is so obsessed with her little power play over him, maybe he can play to it and get something actually substantial out of it. If he bides his time, acting weak and nauseous, she'll get overconfident.

Maybe she'll even tell him where he is, to try and break his spirit.

For now, all Five can do is get clean. He tries not to focus on it too much - waste, waste, waste - and just goes through the motions as fast as he can. The only good thing is that the sharp pain in his head has dulled down to an ache. As he's wrapping himself up in a towel and stepping out, the door opens, and Five scrambles back, keeping the towel close to his body. "What the hell? Get out!"

She has the decency to keep her eyes closed, though that doesn't stop Five from fantasizing shoving her heels down her throat. "I'm just bringing you your clothes, Five! I even went through the trouble of getting something that wasn't a flimsy old hospital gown."

"I'm not changing in front of you-"

"I would never ask you to do that, Five," she huffs, eyes still closed, placing his clothes down onto the toilet. "I'm a mother, not a pedophile."

"Could've fooled me, seeing as you wanted to give me a bath."

"What can I say? You're only a little bit bigger than Lila when she was eight, and heaven knows she didn't know how to shampoo properly until she was ten."

"Well, I'm fifty-eight, and I do know how to take a bath by myself. Now, get out."

The Handler smiles indulgently. "Of course. I'll be right outside." Great. She leaves, the door locking with a click behind her. Thank god.

His fingers tremble violently as he buttons the red flannel shirt closed. It reminds him of something Vanya would wear, which brings him a little comfort. Vanya... does she think he left again? He has no idea how long he's been stuck in here. If they think he left, they won't look for him.

They won't look for him.

So what? It's only logical - you left once. Are they supposed to magically know you've been kidnapped? Get a grip, Five.

Sucking in a breath, he continues getting changed. The Handler had left him a pair of shorts that looked incredibly similar to his academy ones, and if it weren't for the fact that he had nothing else to wear, he would've gone out there and choked her out with them. Combined with some threadbare animal socks and black flats, Five is convinced she probably grabbed these at random out of Lila's closet just to piss him off. "I'm done," he calls out, not bothering to hide the bite in his voice.

She opens the door, giving him a wide smile. "Oh Five! You look absolutely lovely," she says, her hands fingers brushing the wet strands of hair out of his face. "Smell nice too."

"Fuck off."

"You really ought to be more polite," She hums, keeping a tight grip on shoulder and leading him down the cement halls. "You do want to eat, don't you?" They're approaching the same hallway from earlier, and though Five hasn't seen a single person, the vomit from earlier has been cleaned up, leaving the floors slick and shiny. The Handler opens the door to his room, pushing him inside. He doesn't bother fighting it - until he has enough energy, trying to run out would be suicide.

Still, he won't give her any satisfaction. "I'm not," His traitorous stomach takes that moment to rumble, and his ears burn at her smug smile. "Don't."

"Teenagers," she sighs. "Always so stubborn."

"You-" The door slams shut in his face, locking with a click.

When he wakes up again, he can smell spices and chicken. For a moment, he can pretend he's in his room, Grace bringing up a dish of soup on a cold winter's day when they've all inevitably gotten sick. The undertones of perfume ruin it. "What do you want." Five feels marginally better after getting some rest, but the sight of the Handler's face threatens to make him sick all over again.

"Lunch, Five." She holds up a bowl of chicken soup, waving it around almost playfully. "I'm not going to let you go hungry."

"Why are you really doing this? What do you gain from playing house?" He can't take this anymore. He's tired, and all he wants is to stay with his fucking family. Is that so much to ask?

She's silent for once, expression unusually weary. For someone who's usually so arrogant, so confident in her plans, it's... unsettling. "How about this?" She finally says. "If you let me feed you, I'll answer your questions."

"...Fine." He needs answers more than he needs his dignity. Smiling, the Handler spoons some broth and holds it up to his lips. Ears burning, Five opens his mouth. It's not laced with anything, surprisingly enough, and it actually tastes good, though he would rather die than admit that to her face. They sit in relative silence, her feeding him one spoonful at a time until the last drops are scraped from the bowl and down his throat. "I want-"

"Answers, yes, I know," she sighs, setting the bowl down. "Always straight to the point. How are your hands?" He's about to snap at her for changing the subject but... they do burn, despite looking unblemished. Now that he's regained his strength, it's worrying - he uses his hands as a conduit for his powers. His powers that still aren't working, he realizes, the little tear he's used to feeling in his chest clumsily stapled shut. With no way to release them, the familiar hum of his powers burning feels almost unbearable under his skin. "Not good, I presume?"

"Why do you care?" He snaps.

"I care, Five, because you're, unfortunately, the only hope of escaping this place." She snaps back, and the fact that she's told him anything remotely honest is chilling enough, but her next words leaves a cold pit in his stomach. "Welcome to the basement level of Hotel Oblivion, Five.”

...She's not lying.

"...Shit."

#sorry five #uh i didn't actually plan for him to be stuck in hotel oblivion lmao #kinda shoehorned it in tbh #whoops #tua #five hargreeves #the handler #my fanfic #my writing #bad things happen bingo #number five #he's suffering tonight bby

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monstaxdesires · 4 years

Text

The Arrangement (Chapter Six)

(Chapter One) (Chapter Two) (Chapter Three) (Chapter Four) (Chapter Five)

It had been almost a week since your time with Wonho and as promised the money had been added to your account Monday morning. Letting him leave had been a little more difficult than you had planned and his urgency in touching you and kissing you until you were putty in his arms again didn’t help. But now you were back to normal. His time spent with you an appreciated but one time moment.

Wonho had kept the situation between you both a secret like he had promised. He had stayed away for most of the week and that did surprise you a little. But earlier in your shift today he had brought in one of his companions to get an evening gown for a work function the following week and he had asked you how you were, but didn’t press you when you told him you needed to return to work after a few moments of surface conversation.

It was almost the end of the workday and you were grateful. A sigh of relief left you when you allowed yourself to drop into the chair in the back office so that you could record Wonho’s tip and the sale of the gown. You shed your heels and dropped your head back, eyes closed. A moment of relaxation all you needed.

Flashbacks of your weekend together made you shiver and think about him again. He had smirked anytime you would look at him. He knew the effect he had over you but you ignored him making him laugh more. It was a teasing game for him and you were going to allow him his fun as long as he maintained his promise to not bring it up to anyone else.

A light knock sounded on the office door. You cracked one eye open to see Ann standing there. You typically hid in here until your shift ended after inputting the information for the clientele and she tried not to disturb you unless it was important. Being best friends at work had its benefits.

A smirk was painted on her lips. “Someone is asking for you.”

“Someone?” You ask, confusion clear on your face. You knew better than to think it was just someone considering she was interrupting your quiet moment.

She nods, smirking more.

“Did you get a name?” You ask, slightly worried they had changed their mind about the extension and were here to collect the first payment or even the whole sum three weeks early.

Even though you had the first payment you still were wary about the situation. The anonymous party had yet to tell you how to make the payment and you knew when it came due they would either show up at your door or at work if you didn’t hear from them to pay it another way. You also knew that if whoever it was showed up and made a scene at work it would be your job down the toilet.

She nods again and you stay silent as you slip your feet back into your heels and stand straight. She frowns noticing your sullen expression.

“Everything okay?” She asks stopping you and fixing your hair a little.

“Yes, I was just enjoying my last few minutes before leaving for the night.”

She eyes you, knowing you were not telling the truth but dismisses it knowing you would probably crack and tell her when you were ready.

“Well you might enjoy this more,” she sing songs wrapping her arm around your waist and walking with you down the hallway to the front counter.

Just before you get there she releases you and leaves you. You hear her tell whoever it is that you will be with them shortly. You check to make sure your shirt is still tucked in and your skirt where it should be before you emerge. Your lips part in shock and eyes widen slightly.

There he stood. He was dressed a little more casually this time in an all black suit without a tie. He was admiring the store and had not noticed your appearance yet which gave you time to put your service face back on.

You can’t help but to admire his side profile, his jawline strong and sharp, the plumpness of his lips evident even from his side profile. You shake your head pulling yourself together.

“How can I help you?” You ask quietly. He turns to see you. His gaze flickers over you before he looks at the counter top between you and then back up to you.

“Do you remember me?”

“Of course, Shownu.”

He smiles, sticking his hands in his front pockets before glancing at the store again. You watch him as he continues to admire it.

“Do you have something in mind?” You ask moving from around the counter. “I can have someone assist you if you do not.”

“No, that will not be necessary. I try to keep business and pleasure separate.”

You pause, confusion clear on your face which in turn caused a twitch of a smile to tug at the corner of his lips.

“I’m sorry?”

He clears his throat before moving closer to you.

“My mother is the owner,” he glances back over the floor and you turn to see if anyone was nearby to take over on that announcement. “I assume you know who she is.”

“I know who she is, I was not aware of her having a son.”

He flashes a knowing smile. That’s where he learned the lesson of keeping business and personal separate.

You quickly look around again needing to be saved. Your cheeks burn from embarrassment. You spot Ann smirking, she knew who he was, and that was why she was there hiding in the hallway to the dressing rooms. You point a glare at her. A warning would have been nice. She wiggles her eyebrows at you.

“Would you like me to page her?” You ask, not knowing what else to do. This being a first for you.

“No,” he responds before turning back to you. “I’m actually here to see you."

“Oh,” you stop from going towards the desk phone, hands clasping behind your back. “Why?”

He shifts his stance, Wonho had warned him you were very to the point.

“Are you free to grab coffee? There is a little coffee shop across the street that I like. I tried to come at the end of your work day.”

You stare at him in surprise, no longer able to hide your emotions. He looks away before looking at you again a smirk now painted on his face. He was no longer able to hide how entertaining this was. Both of you showing how you felt.

“I would like to talk to you for a moment and I assume you would rather not do so here. Wonho explained a few things to me and I would like to see if I can help.”

“You want to help me?” You ask and he nods.

“Yes. An arrangement if you will.”

You look at the tops of your shoes, face heating more. “I’m not sure what to do here. I already rejected Wonho’s offer to help. Did he not explain that little detail?”

“He did.”

“Mmm.”

“It’s just coffee,” Shownu says taking a step closer.

You feel your stomach explode with butterflies when you both lock gazes. The warm chocolate of his eyes making your heart speed up. How did they manage to have this effect on you?

“Did he tell you why?” You whisper.

“He did.” He watches you intently. “I think we could benefit one another if you gave me a chance to explain.”

You bite your lip before inhaling sharply. What could it hurt?

“Give me ten minutes to finish my report for the day. I can meet you there.”

“I will wait for you,” he says. “I would like to take a look around. Do you have a coat? It’s chilly outside today and I would rather you not catch a cold because of me.”

“I do,” you murmur looking at your shoes again. “Ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes,” he agrees and you turn on the ball of your foot before hurrying back to the office.

————-

Fifteen minutes later his coffee and your tea order were placed and you now sat in a corner booth together. You were watching the people passing by on the street while he watched you. You were trying to find your nerve to start the conversation between you, but so far nothing.

The server arrives to deliver your orders before flashing you both a kind smile and retreating.

“What all did he tell you?” You ask stirring your tea.

“Everything.”

“Everything?” You ask softly, cheeks burning a little at the thought that he knew exactly what had transpired between you and Wonho. You fold your hands in your lap to hide the trembling of them.

He meets your gaze head on. “Yes, but I do not judge you or him. From what he mentioned very briefly you both enjoyed yourselves.”

You bring your mug to your lips after looking away from him, not able to hold his gaze knowing that he knew what you had done. You were going to kill Wonho. You set the mug down after taking a sip of your herbal tea before relaxing back in the booth.

“What exactly is going on here Shownu?”

He runs his hand along his jaw thinking about how to properly do this with you. “I want to help you in exchange for you helping me. I want you to be my companion.”

Your mouth almost falls open in surprise, but you quickly correct yourself. “I am sure Wonho has explained my reservations if he has openly told you everything that has transpired between us.”

He smiles politely knowing you were not happy that your transgressions were out.

“My offer is different from Wonho’s and will cater more towards an arrangement we can both agree on.”

He pauses and waits for you to tell him if he should continue or if you were already checked out. You pause, studying him, trying to read him and see if it was all a trick.

“I’m listening.”

“I don't expect sex from you in the beginning… if at all. What I do need is someone who can join me at business functions, I find they favor someone who can balance business and personal life, and I need someone who can charm the people I am trying to make deals with.”

“And you think I can do that?” You ask.

He smirks, tipping his head. “I know you can and so do you.”

You shrug, masking the smile of pride.

“I lack in that area and believe you could be an asset to me. An asset I’m willing to pay for. I also request to continue having moments like this. I enjoy coffee shops and company I find comforting.”

Your face flames hot at that. He had barely spent any time with you. He doesn’t notice, instead his gaze locked on the table between you. It was clear he was struggling a little to make sure he didn’t come off in a way that would deter you. A small smile tugged at you that he was being as considerate as he was.

“I want to have dinner together once a week at minimum. If we are going to be comfortable at the business functions then we need to be comfortable outside of them. I am not a picky eater and you can chose the restaurants if you would like.”

Then it dawned on you exactly what this would be like if you accepted his offer. “You want me to be your business girlfriend for money?”

The questions comes out softly. A hint of sadness in it that he would resort to this. You knew the basics of Wonho’s and that he did it purely for his own pleasure in the regards of helping someone financially while also getting sexual pleasure from them. But what this seemed like was that he was doing it purely for the success of his business. Was he all work and no play?

He hesitates once he realizes you have caught on. He clears his throat and pulls at his collar a little all while avoiding looking at you head on.

“In a way, yes. As I said earlier I like to keep my business and person lives separate. You will fall into the business side for the purpose of our initial arrangement.”

“Okay.”

He had thought this out down to how you would fit into his life from beginning to end and you weren’t necessarily opposed to it. It would make it easier with sticking to no feelings or any chance of feelings forming. You watch him sip his own coffee before rolling your shoulders. He finally lifts his gaze to yours and you smile weakly.

“When do I need to give you an answer?”

“I have a contract drawn up for you already. Read it, write down any questions you have, or anything you would like to add or adjust. This arrangement is not about only me. I enjoy helping someone as much as I enjoy seeing my business succeed.” He was back to being almost stoic and reserved. “When you have decided if you would like to continue or not please give me a call with the phone number I have provided in the envelope with the contract. We will go from there.”

“Where is this contract?” You ask before taking another sip of your tea. You were grateful that it gave you something to do with your hands.

“I have my driver waiting to take you home when you are ready. He has the contract and will give it to you when he drops you off. He is not aware of what it is, it’s sealed,” he says, the last part coming out rushed when your eyes widen that someone else would be aware of this arrangement and the details of it.

“Why me?” You ask, your curiosity getting the best of you.

“I don’t know.”

You raise an eyebrow in confusion. He laughs, his eyes crinkling before he starts to play with the handle of his mug. You can’t help but to smile, he had a full laugh that was comforting in its own way.

“You are different. People seem to fall under your spell as soon as they meet you.”

“Did you?”

He falters and this time you laugh. He smiles, he liked your laugh.

“I did.” He admits looking at you. “The moment I saw you on Wonho’s arm at dinner I knew we were in trouble, all of us. And then when we were introduced my suspicions were confirmed.”

Your cheeks are flaming hot and you have to tear your gaze from his. You fight the urge to tell him how he made you feel and instead focus back on the table. You trace a pattern into the table top with the tip of your finger.

“I mean what I said,” he says softly now and his hand touches yours. His touch gentle. “You can add anything you like to the contract and I will be open to discuss it.”

“Thank you,” you murmur.

“You’re welcome.”

(Chapter Seven)

#Monsta X #monsta x shownu #monsta x au #shownu #wonho #minhyuk #kihyun #hyungwon #jooheon #changkyun

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