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sunshineseung · 3 years

Text

Journal Part 6 // Jeongin

🍄 | genre: smut ☁️ | pairing: Yang Jeongin x female!reader 🌿 | wc: 6.8k 🌸 | includes: milf!reader x babysitter!college student!jeongin, “mommy/ma’am”, pretty vanilla sex actually, oral (receiving & giving), doggy style, creampie/unprotected sex, [spoilers from here on] ... okay, changbin x reader, oral (receiving), nonconsensual exhisibionism /voyeurism (jeongin spies on y/n without her knowing), start of a threesome, slight cucking? jeongin watches again but this time it’s known

🌊 | One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Finale |

“You guys have been in relationships before, right?” Jeongin was way too nervous about this considering he was just talking to his friends over Discord. “Can I ask something?”

“Sure, knock yourself out.” Hyunjin sounded so cool over his mic despite being way too interested in the youngest’s love life. Jeongin has been obviously lovesick for the past several weeks, and despite vaguely mentioning this mystery girl he was with, he’d never actually dropped too much information about her… or in this case, you. “We’re all ears.”

“How do I get a girl to like me back?” Jeongin’s slight pout could practically be heard through the call. The other boys go quiet trying to think of a proper response.

“Have you tried talking to her?” Jisung speaks first, asking an all-too essential question. Jeongin briefly explains the situation as vaguely as possible, leaving out the whole ‘mother-of-two’ thing. The other four older boys listen intently, mentally planning how they’re going to get their youngest friend laid.

“Just tell her how you really feel, bro!” Felix’s smile could be heard through the call, his usual happy energy lifting the mood of everyone listening. “You have nothing to lose!”

“Well, you have a lot to lose, but it’ll be worth a shot,” Seungmin says, sighing out of boredom. “If she already sort of likes you, then you just have to make her stay.”

“Make her stay?” Jeongin pauses to think, “what do you mean?”

“If you really want this girl, then you have to give her a reason to want to be with you for more than just sex or whatever. She has to enjoy your company. Don’t be afraid to show your flaws, either. Just be endearing, although you’re already good at that.”

“Thanks Seungmin! I’ll try that!”

“Or do what Hyunjin did and knock her up,” Jisung laughs, his chair squeaking loud enough to be picked up by the microphone. Everyone else joins Jisung in laughter except Hyunjin, who’s about to drive over to Jisung’s house and beat the shit out of him for bringing that up.

“I’m gonna kick your ass, Jisung!”

“You and what army?”

“I’ll help you kick his ass,” Seungmin says as he laughs with an exhale through his nose. Following Seungmin, Jeongin also agrees to beat up Jisung with his friends.

“Fuck you guys,” Jisung laughs, the rather serious conversation turning into the boys having a laughing fit. “But for real, Jeongin, I think Seungmin’s right. Just get her to stay.”

“Alright, I’ll try my best.” Jeongin’s smile on his face is light, but he’s truly thankful for his friends at this moment. Despite all the teasing, he really loves his hyungs. “Is there anything else I can do?”

“Girls love when you buy them things. Get her flowers or something,” Hyunjin says, sounding confident as ever. “My girlfriend always loves it when I buy her gifts.”

“Flowers? Girls actually like flowers? I thought that was a joke…” Jeongin feels like he’s been fooled his entire life. He has so much to learn!

“Hyunjin usually gets his girl plan B-“ and with that, Hyunjin muted Jisung in the Discord voice chat. Before Jisung notices he’s been muted, Jeongin thanks the boys and leaves, ready to go out and get some flowers in the morning.

🍓🍰🐤🍀💐🍯

Jeongin stands at your doorstep, checking his shirt for stains one last time before knocking on your door. He hears you mumble something on the other side as he’s about to sweat through his shirt. When you swing open the door, Jeongin looks cute as a button in a pink button-up short sleeve shirt and jeans. In his hands is a small bouquet of yellow tulips. His smile makes your heart warm as you invite him inside.

“These are for you, Y/n! I thought I’d get you something nice on your day off.” He sounded too chipper to be okay. You’ve never seen Jeongin beaming like this, especially before you’ve done anything to him. He hands you the tulips and watches you put them in a vase as he takes a seat on a stool at your kitchen island. “Do you like them?”

“I love them, baby. Thank you so much.” You brush his hair back and kiss his forehead, bringing him into a big hug. As you let go, you run your hand down his arm and sit in the stool next to his. “The girls are in school right now. Why’d you come over?”

“I just wanted to hang out,” he says with a smile.

“I’m 30 years old, Jeongin. I don’t ‘hang out’.” You laugh at him a bit, seeing a pout form on his lips. “But I’ll hang out with you if you really want.”

“Great! I mean…” Jeongin struggles to start a conversation. “What have you been doing today?”

“I got the girls ready and drove them to preschool, then I cleaned a bit. Really I’ve just been watching TV.” Jeongin nods as you speak, paying attention to every word. “What about you? I assume you woke up at noon.”

“Not true!” He whines, “11 o’clock, actually.”

“Ah, how brave.” You chuckle at your own joke. “You look so cute in that shirt, you know?”

“Oh- thank you, m-... Y/n.” He almost let his kink slip by calling you mommy, but he quickly fixes his mistake. His face gets bright red from your complements, his heart fluttering in the process. “You look nice as well!”

Unlike Jeongin, you didn’t get dressed up for this surprise visit. Your hair was a mess, and you wore no bra, only a loose tee shirt you got from a concert when you were a teenager. The shorts you wore were stained with bleach. You looked like a damn mess in every sense of the word. The fact that Jeongin could find beauty in any of that was mind boggling.

“You want a drink, honey? I got water and little boxes of apple juice.” As tempting as the apple juice was, Jeongin settles for water. As you get the drinks, Jeongin takes out his phone to text his friends.

🍓🍀🍯.

The Boys 🥶

Jeongin: I’m blowing it.

Hyunjin: wtf did you mean? You got her flowers! Did you compliment her?

Jeongin: yeah I told her she looked nice but now she looks bored!!! :((((

Jisung: slap her ass

Seungmin: Please don’t do that.

Hyunjin: are you sitting on a couch?

Jeongin: what? no? are we supposed to be?

Hyunjin: so you can put your arm around her!

Jeongin: ohhhh okay

Felix: just be nice to her! no girl can resist your charms!

Jisung: make her food!

Seungmin: Listen to what she has to say. Make sure it’s not all about you.

Jeongin: shut up she’s coming back

Hyunjin: don’t blow this young my padawan

Jisung: young what?

Hyunjin: nevermind ㅜㅜ

🍓🍀🍯.

“Let’s go sit on the couch!” Jeongin hops out of his stool as you hand him his water, already walking towards your living room. Shrugging, you follow him and lounge back where this whole relationship started.

“So, how are your classes going?” You turn slightly to face him, watching him calculate his next move.

“They’re alright, but you’ve heard enough about me. I want to know more about you.” His voice lowers on the second sentence as he leans forward and puts his arm around your shoulders. Your reaction could almost be classified as a cringe, getting flashbacks to every time Minho would do that to you when you first started dating. “Sorry, was that too slimy?”

“Yes, very slimy.” You laugh at how Jeongin described his move, him leaning away from you back to his corner of the sofa. “What do you want to know about me, love?”

“Well,” if he’s being totally honest, Jeongin didn’t expect to get this far, “what’s your… favorite color?”

You roll your eyes, “really?”

“Yes, really.”

“My favorite color is blue, Jeongin.” He nods as if it was an incredibly interesting and complex story, which makes him look like such a clown, but you don’t have the balls to say that to his face. “Are you sure you came over here just to hang out?”

“What do you mean?” Of course he knows what you mean. Your entire relationship was based off of sex. How could he not know?

“Don’t act naive, baby boy. You know exactly what I mean.” You straddle his lap in an instant, kissing him on the lips like you’ve wanted to since he walked in the door.

He pushes you away by your chest, his breaths already heavy from the most minimal action. “I really want to fuck you, I do, but I… I don’t want it like this.”

You pause before quickly hopping off his lap just as quick as you hopped on. “What do you want then, Jeongin?”

“Can we have sex without all the… stuff?” Jeongin looks like he could cry at any moment, not out of sadness, but just from the anxiety rattling through him. “No power dynamics or kinks. Just… sex.”

“Just sex?” You smile at how cute he sounded when he said that. “Anything you want, sweetheart.”

“Thank you… you can get back on my lap now.” You both giggle as you climb back on his lap, the constant movements making you feel older than you really are from your muscles getting sore too soon. His lips soon meet yours again, and his hands are on your waist, hesitantly moving up and down your sides.

You grind down onto him, feeling his cock harden underneath of you. As you press your hips down harder, his hands squeeze your skin and he whimpers on your mouth. You smile against his lips, excited for what’s to come.

His lips kiss down from your mouth to your neck, licking and nipping at the skin. You hiss as he bites down on a particularly sensitive area, a bruise surely being left in his wake. Your hands go into his hair as his hands grip your hips, pulling you down onto his bulge.

“Let me undress you, babe.” You tap his back with one hand and let him lean up from your neck, laying back into the couch for you to unbutton his shirt and reveal his toned chest. His physique never failed to amaze you. “Fuck, you’re so sexy.”

“I could say the same about you.” His eyes are glued to your tits, him licking his lips as you push his shirt off of his shoulders and eventually off of his body. Just as he’s about to take your shirt off, his phone rings from his back pocket. “I should answer that.”

“Go ahead.” You grind slightly onto him as he looks at the phone screen. You assume it’s one of his friends from school considering the emojis following the contact name.

“Hey Hyunjin! Can I call y- yeah, it’s going great, can I call- oh my god, we can talk later, bye!” He hangs up and tosses his phone to the coffee table. “Sorry, he wanted to know how my date was going.”

“Oh, so this was a date the whole time? Well you should have said so!” You kiss his cheek and lower to your knees, your hands resting on his upper thighs. “I would have started sucking you off a long time ago.”

Jeongin bites his lip as you unzip his pants and pull them down his legs, his cock hard under his tight briefs. Your hand runs across his erection, teasing him just enough to make him whine. He scoots up to the edge of the couch and lifts his hips so you can pull his underwear off, finally revealing his perfect cock.

“Relax, babe. You look so tense.” You look up at Jeongin, making eye contact as he perks up at your words. He leans back into the couch again, putting his hands at his sides as raising his hips to your face, urging you to take care of him. You harshly spit into your hand and wrap it around his shaft, stroking him just around the tip. In an instant, Jeongin throws his head back and lets you take him.

As much as you want to praise him for being such a good boy right now, you take your time and silence yourself with his cock in your mouth. Your tongue runs over his slit before your lips wrap around him, your head bobbing in sync with your hand’s strokes. Jeongin is absolutely blissed out above you, feeling like all of his troubles are melting away.

“I- I don’t want to cum just yet.” Jeongin digs his nails into the fabric of the cushion beneath him. “I want to eat you out.”

You pull your mouth off of his cock with a ‘pop’ before standing up, Jeongin’s eyes opening just in time to see you toss your shirt off, soon followed by the dropping of your pants and underwear. You stood in front of him, naked, your figure being figuratively eaten up by his eyes.

“Can we go into your room?” Jeongin stands up with you and takes your hand in his, waiting for you to give the okay. Of course, you nod and allow him to lead you to your own bedroom in a bizarre twist. “Lay back on the bed, babe.”

Hearing Jeongin call you babe is just the cherry on top of this odd situation.

Nevertheless, you follow his orders for once and lay on your bed, spreading your legs as he pins you beneath him, his cock dangling hard against your core. His hands grope your tits and pinch your nipples as he makes out with you, getting his saliva all around your mouth.

This feels like a different Jeongin, or at least, certainly not one you’ve met before. He’s more mature, taking action, directing you! As much as you love being his mommy, you also adore this side of him more than you were expecting.

In a hurry, he moves his body down the bed and wraps his arms around your thighs, kissing your clit before sucking on the bundle of nerves. Your back arches fast, toes curling as one hand leaves your thigh and goes to your dripping cunt. He inserts two fingers inside you, pumping them and curling them at a slow pace. His tongue makes circles around your clit. You arch your back as he quickened his pace on both his fingers and his tongue. Looking down at Jeongin, his eyes are dark, looking off into the void as he focuses on only the actions of his mouth and hands.

“Feel so good, baby~” You whine, one of your hands going down to his hair while your other plays with your hardened nipples. Jeongin hums in response, the vibrations from his voice giving the slightest extra stimulation to your cunt. “Keep going, please.”

The ‘please’ leaves your lips so naturally, and yet Jeongin is still caught off guard from hearing you so whiny, begging for him. Now he’s determined to make you cum, not that he wasn’t already.

Your toes curl and a moan slips from your lips as he sucks harshy on your clit, his tongue flicking against your bud in his mouth. His fingers still, curving up into your g-spot. Your own mind is begging you to cum if not for yourself then for Jeongin. You feel so close, yet your body refuses to release.

You look down one more time, making direct eye contact with the boy. He’s been watching your face since you arched your back, patiently waiting and watching to see if you cum. He looks so painfully sexy with his head between your legs, your thighs pressed against the side of his head and his fingers are fucking your pussy and his teeth brush against your clit. That visual is all you needed.

After what felt like eternity for Jeongin, your pussy tightened and your head was thrown back. Senseless and thoughtless moans of your lover’s name escaped your throat as you covered Jeongin’s fingers in your creamy release. He slowed down his movements enough to help you still ride out your high without being overstimulated too quickly. As you get your mind back, he pulls his face away, coming back up your body to hover over you with his arms at your sides.

“Let me fuck you from behind.” Jeongin’s tone is hot. That’s the only way you can describe it. It’s a total 180 from the little boy who begged for you to let him cum not too long ago. “Get on your hands and knees for me, Y/n.”

You eagerly nod at his command, giving him time to get off of you while you turn around and stick your ass up. Jeongin takes a minute to marvel at your ass before joining you back on the bed, his cock hard sitting on your ass as he watches you lean down into the pillows, holding one close to your face.

“Fuck,” Jeongin says under his breath, simply running his hands over your ass. You shake your ass a bit, urging him to finally fill your cunt with his cock. Getting the hint, he lines his tip with your dripping cunt and pushes himself in slowly, allowing you to adjust to every inch as if you haven’t literally pushed out two kids.

“You feel so good, Jeongin~” Hearing you moan makes him moan as embarrassing as that sounds. You fit around his cock so well, taking him easily while still being tight. His hold on your hips moves up to your waist, his arms wrapping around you and his chest hitting your back. He feels so pathetic again, losing his grip on reality as he fucks your pussy.

“You take me so well,” don’t fucking say it, “mommy.” Damn it.

You bite your lip when you hear him say that special word, tightening around him as his thrusts get faster. He starts getting whiny, impatient, back to the Jeongin you’ve known.

“Babe, cum inside me.” You start talking to get him back out of his head, trying to catch him before he slips into subspace. He kisses your back before leaning up again, his hands back on your hips, pulling you against his cock. “Please cum inside me.”

“A-alright, Y/n. Anything for you!” He huffs and puffs, groaning and moaning, trying to desperately reach his high for his own sake. You clench your muscles around his cock, sucking him in and forcing his thrusts to become deep and slow. He starts to twitch, groaning your name until he finally butters, his cock shooting its load inside you. “Oh my god… fuck. So good.”

He stops, slowly slipping his cock out of you as his cum drips down your pussy lips to the bed. Jeongin stares at the mess he made, disappointed in himself that he couldn’t make you cum on his cock again. He sighs and falls next to you on the bed, and you lower your ass and turn your body over to cuddle on his chest.

“You did so well, baby. You really know how to please a lady, you know?” Your fingers trace vague shapes around his chest, your eyes gazing up into his. He looks exhausted from all the hard work he just did, but at least it paid off. “We should shower now.”

Jeongin groans as if he’s annoyed, pushing his hair back off of his sweaty forehead. “I need to sleep right now.”

“That’s fine, honey. I’m gonna shower then pick up the girls. You rest.” You get up and kiss his forehead before walking into your bathroom.

When he hears your shower start, Jeongin sneaks out into the living room to grab his phone from his pocket so he could text his friends with a little update.

🍓🍀🍯.

The Boys 🥶

Hyunjin: jeongin’s getting his dick sucked

Jisung: ooooo

Felix: i’m jealous

Hyunjin: Jeonginnie update us when you get back!!! 💋

Hyunjin: damn he’s getting his shit ROCKED

Seungmin: Shut up omg

Felix: god I wish that we me

Jisung: ew

Jeongin: you guys are gross

Hyunjin: THE KING IS BACK

Jisung: you didn’t knock her up, did you?

Jisung: I hope you didn’t pull a Hyunjin

Jisung: please don’t remove me from the chat

Hyunjin: you’re on thin fucking ice young man

Jisung: we’re literally the same age

Hyunjin: okay young man

Hyunjin: anyway…

Hyunjin: how was it Jeongin? You’re finally not a virgin anymore!

Jeongin: I’ve fucked this girl before I just don’t think she wants to date me. I thought I said that before.

Jisung: oh shit

Hyunjin: YOU LEFT OUT THAT VERY CRUCIAL DETAIL MR YANG JEONGIN!

Jeongin: Oh my bad

Hyunjin: MY BOY IS ALL GROWN UP 😭😭😭

Seungmin: They grow up so fast. 😢

Felix: did you just… leave her?

Jeongin: No way! She’s showering right now. I’m just tired.

Jeongin: I think I fucked it up

Jisung: I mean you fucked her up… but if you two fucked at all I think she’s fine

Jeongin: but I tried to be more serious and mature and I wasn’t! I still make it… weird

Seungmin: Please don’t go into details. I just ate.

Jisung: please go into details. i’m horny.

Felix: ew!!!!

Jeongin: What do I do now? I’m just at her house for the rest of the day I guess.

Hyunjin: don’t you have to babysit for your neighbor tonight?

Hyunjin: secure the bag little man!!!

Jeongin: first of all, little man?

Jeongin: second of all… I should go now lol BYEEEE

Hyunjin: Weird time to exit but okay

Felix: Maybe he’s fucking his neighbor lmao

Hyunjin: No way! Jeongin has game but not enough to pull a milf

Jeongin: lol

🍓🍀🍯.

You get dressed in your bedroom before walking out to the living room to find Jeongin mindlessly scrolling through his phone. Kids these days.

“I thought you were tired?” Jeongin just laughs without responding. You get your keys by the door and start to head out. “You better be dressed by the time I come back with the girls! 15 minutes!”

“Yes ma’am!” Although he says it jokingly, it sounds like something he’d say to you regularly in another setting. You say goodbye before getting in your car and driving off to pick up your two lovely daughters.

When you come back with your kids, Jeongin is most importantly cleaned up and fully clothed, but also ready to watch them as you go to work. Unfortunately for him, you had to be kept overtime, so he was going to be at your house longer than expected. The day with the girls flies by, but after he puts them to sleep, Jeongin becomes bored out of his mind.

In true Jeongin fashion, he pulls out his journal and a pencil, ready to write whatever comes to mind. For the first time in forever, though, he can’t come up with anything. He knows what he wants to do with you, but he can’t bring himself to write it. It feels too... real.

He reads back on what he’s written in the past, sighing as he realizes that his fantasies have either been fulfilled or painfully unrealistic. Jeongin really thought there was more to his journal, but the repetition of his imagination becomes evident after the third time he reads about how he wants to be spanked.

Putting his Journal back in his bag, he leans back on the couch. He didn’t even get hard from reading his journal entries! Either his dick is broken or he no longer needs his journal, which sounds ridiculous, even to him, but after thinking for a moment alone, he starts to believe with you in his life, Jeongin doesn’t need to write what he fantasizes about; he just needs you.

After watching your kids for you as you work overtime, Jeongin is way too tired to not sleep in his own bed. You kiss him goodbye after you check on your kids, sending him off with a warm feeling in his heart.

🍓🍰🐤🍀💐🍯

You started working in this office early last year, and since you started working here, there was one man that would always come over to your desk to chat with you. Obviously, it was always friendly, mature banter with no hidden meaning or ulterior motive. You two were simply coworkers and nothing more.

That was until he asked you on a date. He was never flirty until he asked you out, so it kind of came out of left field. Still, he’s hot, you can’t deny that. You’d be a fool to say no to his offer. You planned it for a Saturday night when both of you were free, and Jeongin was happy to watch your kids for a “business meeting”.

You didn’t have the heart to tell him that it was a date. Being a teenage boy, you were certain he would lash out and get mad at you for being an adult. And you didn’t want to break his heart. Although you’re going to be holding it off, you have to tell him eventually that you were seeing other people, and you know that. At least for now, for your sake and his sake, this is a secret you keep to yourself.

After saying goodbye to your daughters and Jeongin, you head out to your date’s car parked right out front. He’s standing at the passenger side door holding it open to you. He takes your hand to help you step into his SUV.

“You look absolutely lovely, Y/n.” His suit hugged his chest and arms perfectly, and you almost felt underdressed even in your evening cocktail dress that you felt made you look old.

“Thank you, Changbin. You look amazing yourself.” You laugh to each other, chatting back and forth about work and life as he drives you to the restaurant. The entire ride there, his hand is playfully resting on your thigh. While the tension is low, you can still feel it. You haven’t done anything sexual with Jeongin for a few days, so this will be refreshing for sure.

Changbin leads you into the restaurant, a reserved table waiting for you two as you walk in. The food is expensive, just as you expected, but he’s happy to pay. You forgot what it was like to be taken care of by a man considering the only two people you’ve been with in the past few years have been your shitty ex-husband and a college boy.

“So, is there someone watching your daughters right now? I assume you didn’t just leave them home alone,” Changbin asks before taking a bite of his food.

“Yeah! My neighbor’s son watches them at night. I’m usually at my second job at this time, but I called off today.” He nods with a mouth full of food. “He’s in college right now but he finds the time. I pay him too, of course.”

“You let a college boy watch your kids?” Changbin laughs in his chest. “I wouldn’t trust any teenage boy within 20 yards of my son. You must trust him.”

“He’s a sweet kid. He wouldn’t do anything to harm my girls, I’m sure.” You both go silent as you continue eating. “So, how’s your son?”

“My boy’s doing great! Middle school is a lot harder than elementary school, but he’s tough just like his daddy.” Again, you share a laugh with Changbin, the atmosphere sweet and sentimental as you discuss your children. “He’s home alone right now.”

When the waiter comes back to your table to give you the bill, Changbin sticks to his word and pays for the meal and the wine. He politely asks to go back to your house and stay a little longer, which is leading to exactly what you think it is. The tension rises when you get into his car and he keeps his hand on your thigh again, this time higher, closer to your hips.

“We can have a few more drinks at my place. Just let me tell my babysitter to go home early. I’m sure he won’t mind.”

🍓🍰🐤🍀💐🍯

Jeongin’s phone rings loudly from the living room as he lays in your bed, distracted with his thoughts. He’s been so high strung the past few days, but he hasn’t been able to tell you. He strokes himself slowly, almost teasing himself as he grunts and hops out of your bed to answer his phone who he’s happy to see is you!

“Hey Jeongin! You can go home early! I’ll be home in a few minutes, but you can leave now.” Your voice sounded so bright and pretty, and he was still dazed from his session that you interrupted. When he actually understands what you said, he’s beyond confused.

“Are you sure? You don’t want to come home and… help me?” Your face heats up when you hear his voice turn weak at the end. Half of you wants to get fucked by Changbin, but the other half of you wants to fuck Jeongin. “I’m sorry for breaking rules mommy, but I’m so hard. I need you.” You can hear his pout through the phone. Thank God you didn’t have this call on speaker.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye Jeongin!” You hang up before he can say anything back so you don’t cause any worry from Changbin. Opening your messenger app, you hurriedly text Jeongin.

🍓🍀🍯.

Y/n 💗: I need you to go home now. I’ll be there in a minute. Don’t worry about the girls. They’ll be fine as long as they’re asleep.

Yang Jeongin: but I need you mommy! I haven’t been your little boy in so long :(

Y/n 💗: For God’s sake just go home.

Yang Jeongin: and what if I don’t?

Y/n 💗: This isn’t the time to be a brat.

Yang Jeongin: Fine. see you tomorrow.

Y/n 💗: Thank you. Bye!

🍓🍀🍯.

No way in hell was Jeongin going home that easily. When he sees a car pull into your driveway which he assumes is yours, he runs to your room and hides in the closet hoping you’ll look for him so he can jump out and surprise you. He’s only wearing his tight boxer-briefs, his body shaking in excitement as he hears your front door open and close.

It’s not your voice he hears, though. It’s another man’s.

“You look so fucking sexy, Y/n. C'mere and kiss me, baby.” Obeying your date, you wrap your hands around his neck and meet his lips with yours, a messy, wet kiss making you both feel euphoric. His hands grope your ass and pull you close to him, his cock hardening against you. “I’ve been wanting this for so long.”

“We need to be quiet. My kids are sleeping.” Your hands go over his chest, unbuttoning his white dress shirt as he shakes off his suit jacket. You rest your hands on his pecs and kiss him, your tongue swiping across his bottom lip. He held you so close, so tenderly. This is what you’ve been missing.

Jeongin brings his knees up to his chest, shaking with nerves and emotion rather than excitement. He should have listened to you, but now he has to hear you with another man. This is hell. Although it is tempted, he can’t just sneak out of your bedroom window. He needs an entire secret-agent-level escape plan, or at this point, divine intervention would be nice too.

“Jump up, babe.” Changbin taps your thigh for you to jump into his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist as your arms are around his neck. “Bedroom?”

“Second door on the left.” You pull him into another kiss as he carefully carries you to your bedroom and lowers you onto the bed gently. Changbin cages you under him with his arms at your sides and your legs spread around his thighs. He grinds against your cunt, your dress riding up to reveal a thin thong being the only thing covering your pussy.

“Can I take your dress off?” He kisses on your neck as you run your hands down his gorgeous arms.

“Only if you take your shirt off.” He sighs with a smile and sits up, revealing his entire torso for you to see after slowly unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. You can’t help but ogle at the sight before you. “God damn, Changbin.”

“Now let me slip this little dress off of you, doll.” He bites his lip as he takes a hold of the straps of your dress and pulls them down, eventually slipping your dress off of your body. His eyes scan your body, taking in every curve of your figure. His bulge in his pants only gets bigger. “Oh my god, you’re a fucking dream.”

You raise your back to get your hands around yourself, unhooking your bra and tossing it to the side. Changbin only watches as you lay back, giving him an open invitation to play with your tits, which he graciously accepts. His lips wrap around your left nipple, while his hand plays with your right breast. With his right hand busy on your chest, his left hand ghosts over your covered cunt before rubbing you from over your underwear.

Your closet door isn’t very practical as a door. There are little slots across the door so air can vent into the closet. In this case, those little slots give Jeongin a perfect view of the buff, older man pinning you down to your bed. As much as his heart aches to see you like this, his cock is unmistakably hard. One of his hands teases his dick from over his underwear while his other hand wipes away a tear he didn’t even notice fell.

Changbin kisses down from your nipple to the hem of your panties, his hands taking a hold of the fabric at your hips and sliding it down so he can finally taste you. He licks his lips before licking up your cunt, one strong lick to get you ready before his tongue makes circles around your clit, and occasionally his lips wrap around the bud to suck gently. Your legs wrap around his head as you watch him take his time, something your previous partners were never good at doing, even if they tried.

“Fuck, Changbin~ so good.” You can’t help but moan out from his mouth taking complete control of your thoughts. Your hips buck up into his face as he devours you. Looking down at him, he looks so driven by lust and need. This is exactly where you were hoping this night was leading to.

Changbin’s tongue laps at your folds as he grips your thighs tighter, going in harder than before. It feels like heaven between your legs, and you can’t help but raise your hips off the bed and buck into his face. He laughs against your heat, sending vibrations through your spine. He loves your reactions so much that he can’t help but laugh at how pathetic you are rutting against his face.

“Mmm, mommy…” Jeongin whines, holding his hand over his mouth to muffle his irrepressible moans. Unfortunately for him, he’s louder than he thinks. “Ah, Y/n.”

Changbin’s ears perk up. His mouth leaves you for a moment. He’s perched between your legs like a dog that just heard a car door from outside. “What was that?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Jeongin’s hand stops jerking himself as his heart falls through his chest. He goes bug eyed as the realization hits him that he might have been too loud.

“What was what?” You breath fast as you come back to your senses, being totally out of it just a second ago for apparent reasons. “Was it my daughters?!”

“I swear I heard something…” Changbin stares at the closet, unknowingly making eye contact with Jeongin as he looks through a slot in the door. Jeongin rustles around to feel for a blanket or something to hide him, but that only makes more noise. “Wait here.”

You sigh, frustrated from the sudden mood ruining sound that your one night stand claims to have heard. Changbin goes up to the closet and puts his ear against the door before sliding it open to reveal a half naked college boy covering himself with an old winter coat.

“Who the fuck-”

“Hi, I was just leaving…”

“Jeongin?! Yang Jeongin?! Is that you?!” You were prepared to cover yourself with the blanket, but since it’s him there’s no need for that now. You get off the bed, knees only a little wobbly, and walk over to him, pushing Changbin out of the way in the process. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing spying on me like this?”

Changbin steps back and looks over the scene. He doesn’t understand why you didn’t cover up in front of this boy, but he’s too startled to ask any questions, not to mention the visible rage on your face scaring him.

“I was going to surprise you, Y/n.” Jeongin’s voice is more of a croak, his voice hoarse and squeaky from embarrassment.

“I told you to go the fuck home. Why didn’t you listen to me?” Your speech gets louder and louder, practically being a shout at this point. You’re too angry to care if the girls hear. You soundproofed that room to high heaven; if your daughters heard, you’d be more than shocked.

“I… needed you?” Before you can even yell again, Changbin steps in and pushes you back from the boy. You got so in your head that you accidentally managed to get in his face as if you were going to throw hands. “I’m sorry, I should go now.”

“Changbin,” you look back at the older man, “would you mind if we added a third?”

Both of the men look at you, their faces reading nothing but confusion. You sigh at their dazed expressions and pull the jacket away from Jeongin, leaving him exposed aside from his underwear. Noticing he’s still hard, you can’t help but laugh.

“Look at the poor boy, Bin! He wants to play, doesn’t he?” Despite clearly talking down to Jeongin, he nods like the needy little puppy he is. Changbin looks at you, looks at Jeongin, looks at you, looks at your tits, looks at Jeongin’s bulge, and finally looks back at you… This will be the end of him if he says yes.

But he can’t possibly turn down this golden opportunity.

“He does look like he needs some assistance, doesn’t he?” Changbin’s devilish smirk returns to his face, a look you’ve only seen during the car ride to your house. Changbin sizes up the younger boy, unsure of what he wants to do first with this fresh piece of meat. “Have you ever been in a threesome before… what’s his name?”

“Jeongin.”

“Jeongin?”

“Well, no, but I’m trying to be…” Jeongin trails off, remembering his effort to be more vanilla and domestic to impress you. Then for a moment he thinks to himself, if being vanilla made her hook up with another guy, maybe she wants… her prince back. As absurd as this sounded to Jeongin, his knees were weak and his dick was hard. Turning down a threesome with two doms would be a clear mistake, and if he does this, then he can brag to his friends that he had a threesome, sparing the gruesome details of the power dynamics of course. “Excuse me sir, what’s your name?”

“You can keep calling me sir, that’s fine.” Changbin didn’t care what Jeongin called him, he only wanted to please you with the help of a little servant. “Y/n, go lay on the bed. I wasn’t done between your legs.”

“Yes, sir.”

Jeongin’s never seen you be submissive, so he’s surely in for a treat.

“Baby boy, why don’t you sit on that chair and watch how a mature man eats out a woman.” You wink to Jeongin as you get situated on the bed. Ever obedient, Jeongin goes to the cushioned chair in the corner of your room and slides his underwear down his legs, ready to finally be able to see your body tonight in all its glory, although another man between your legs sent shivers down his spine, he can’t deny that he likes seeing you in such a blissed out state like you make him.

“So you’re calling me sir now too, huh?” Changbin lays between your legs, ready to continue where he left off. One of his fingers rakes through your cunt, collecting the wetness he left before plunging into your sensitive hole. “Be a good girl and keep those legs spread for me, okay?”

“Don’t get overzealous, Changbin.” You laugh and throw your head back into the pillows, finally relaxing into the touch of your new lover. “We still have a little boy who wants to be fucked, doesn’t he?” Jeongin nods from the corner of the room, palming his freed cock, only allowing the slightest bit of friction to please him.

This was going to be a long night.

taglist: @binnie-m00n @sparklysung @starsareseen @sailorhyunjinz @gothicstay @vogueinnie @mariannaab @spilledtee

#kpopcatalog #stray kids smut #skz smut #kpop smut #yang jeongin smut #jeongin smut #i.n smut

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mouthfulloftoothpasterry · 3 years

Note

HELLO i’m back and i’m bringing some more concepts (sorry in advance if i repeat some btw 😭)

- ok so like imagine if yall went to a concert and like he would be DANCING SO HARD and u would basically whisper-shout bc it’s loud (lol) what the artist/band is doing on stage to him… he would be so grateful for that ????

- omg also can we PLS imagine him as a dad to be trying his veryyyy best to build a crib and like help decorate the room??? trips to ikea!!! and harry feeling material on blankets to see which is best for his bubba!

- speaking to dad to be harry… HIM AT A ULTRASOUND appointment!!!! y/n would count all the babies toes for him!!!!!!! and he would so sob when he finds out the gender 🥰 and would be holding ur hand so hand bc he’s so lucky ????

- ok wait this is a but random but i can imagine him being a best man one day for like his best friends wedding and you would whisper in his ear that he looked beautiful ( him with his suit and colourful tie HE picked out 🥲) and he would blush like crazy… also would defo dance with you all dance night… conga? yeah. chicken dance thing? he’s doing that for an hour straight… and hearing ur laugh?? hes DEAD.

- alsooooo night routines would be so cuteee!! he can hear you taking ur makeup off and would go to the counter of ur bathroom and sleepily ask if you could do his moisturiser or something… or he would sit on the counter and wait for you, ask abt ur day, would get some snacks for ur night movie or something. but random but hey ho!

- small dates are a must btw!!! walk on the pier? yup! just harry feeling the wind on this face makes him so happy! and he doesn’t feel self conscious around you or anything… and if someone gave him a funny look you would be SO close to punching them in the damnnn face!! he’s very lucky to have u lol

sorry if these are bad! it’s evening in the uk so i’m tired lol. watch me come back tomorrow 💞 have a lovely day and hope u like these lol!!!!!! xxx

NO THESE ARE SO GOOD OH MY GOD

I NEED TO TAKE A WHILE TO RESPOND TO ALL OF THEM AND WRITE A GOOD CHUNK FOR ALL OF THEM SO I WILL EDIT THIS LATER AND TAG YOU ONCE I RESPOND TO IT ALLLLL!!!! 🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍 THANK YOU SO MUCH 🥺

Okay they are done babyyyy @sunflowerstyles-6

Concert:

“oh my god, Harry he just fell!” Y/n giggles, watching the concert they caught at last minute. They didn’t even really know the band but they have heard a few songs and the band wasn’t very well known so pit tickets were pretty cheap. “What?!” Harry asks, stilling his dance moves and snapping his head toward his girlfriend. Y/n laughs loudly, “He almost fell off of the stage!” Y/n giggles, clinging to Harry. “Is he okay?!”

y/n nods, kissing harrys cheek. “Keep on dancing, baby! I want to get some videos of you!” Y/n yells over the music, pulling away from his and stepping back to take videos of his crazy head banging and jumping.

Building a crib:

“Honey, it’s okay. I can get someone else to build it.” Y/n says, rubbing her eight month bump while standing in the nursery that belongs to their second baby. “Hush, lovie. I’ve got this. Just let me take my time.” He says, growing frustrated with his pregnant wife but he still kept a smile on his face while talking to her.

“Okayyy, I’m going to watch ******. Yell for me if you need us.” She says, letting her man do what he needed to do.

Soon enough Harry yells her name, Y/n was selling up the stairs with their first born. She smiles while she leans against the door frame, breathless from hauling her big belly up the stairs. “You did it, baby.” She smiles, patting his cheek. “So proud of you.”

Yeah… you guys don’t get to know the name until a blurb comes out 😎 me also using they/ them pronouns so you don’t know the gender yet HAHAHAH

Ultrasound:

“Bubby, stay on my lap.” Harry whispers to his baby, hugging them while their mummy gets an ultrasound. “Okay… one second and I’ll be able to tell you the sex!” The woman standing in pink scrubs smiles, rubbing the wand over Y/n’s swollen belly.

“Okay, you’ve got a (YOU WISH YOU KNEW HAHAHAHA) in your belly!” The kind lady announces with a warm, excited smile on her face. Y/n jaw drop while Harry and ****** squeal. “ANOTHER?” Y/n cries, making Harry giggle. “Hush, you are gonna love it, baby.”

Best man:

“Don’t be nervous, silly.” Y/n giggles to her fiancé while she fixes his bow tie. They were at Harry’s best friends wedding. Mitch and Sarah had gotten engaged just a couple months before Harry and Y/n had, Harry now being his best man and Mitch going to their wedding as harrys best man.

“Hush it! I’ve got to walk in-front of all of those people.” Harry whisper yells, pointing to the door where people are slowly trickling in behind.

“Baby.” Y/n says, grabbing his face and looking straight into his eyes- he can instantly senses the eye contact and it makes his cheeks burn. “You look fucking beautiful. You are a dream. After the ceremony is over we are gonna go dance out asses off, and have the time of our lives. You aren’t Gonna have a worry in your mind so don’t get worked up now.” She says, hushing him with a firm kiss to his lips before he can even speak. “Thank you,” he cups her jaw. “I needed that.”

Soon enough Harry is screaming at the top of his lungs while doing the cha-cha slide- his suit jacket slipped off and shirt almost completely unbuttoned.

Night routine:

“Are y’ taking off your makeup, beautiful?” Harry asks from the bed, his voice tired and croaky. Y/n nods from the sink in the bathroom- “yup!” Harry groans, rubbing over his face. “Come take mine off, beauty.”

Y/n laughs at her husband, rolling her eyes while she pats her face dry with a towel. “Baby, you don’t wear makeup!” She yells back, stepping into the door way between their bathroom and bedroom. “Yeah but… come make me pretty. Wanna talk to you.” Y/n rolls her eyes but grabs a sheet mask and other things to doll up her husband nonetheless.

“You don’t need this, you’re pretty enough.” She says, swinging a leg over him and straddling his hips while he relaxes his head down into his pillow while she slides the slimy mask onto his face. “Yeah, yeah. How was your day?”

“It was fine, ****** was a little crazy today, but they went down so good for me during nap time.” Y/n hums. Harry smiles, “good.”

“How the company going?” Y/n giggles on-top of her husband, watching him lips form back into a smile. “It was good, sales are still going up!”

“Was it a good day?”

“Never when I’m away from you.”

Small date- at the fair!:

“No, H, come on! Give me a pretty face.” Y/n giggles, trying to take a Polaroid of him while he makes silly faces, pulling at his cheeks and lips to make himself look crazy. “Okay, okay, I swear. This one I will smile.” Harry makes a pretty face, closing his eyes while he smiles, pulling up his shoulders shyly while he does it. “Awe, you are so pretty.” Y/n coos at her fiancé,. Pulling up the camera to her eye.

As soon as the photo is shot harry is switching poses and shoving his corn dog into his mouth like a mad man. “Damn it Harry!” Y/n yells at her fiancé, making her erupt into giggles, almost making himself fall on the ground.

OKAYYY THATS ALL I HAVE :)

I realized that I spoiled that part about Harry eventually starting his own company… at least you don’t know what the company is 😭

#ask #blind!harry #blind!harry concept #my love 😩

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isletakebarzal · 3 years

Text

I Hope I Never Lose You | 1 | Mat Barzal

a/n: my first mat barzal fic. my first fic since......... sh*wn m*nd*s. Here is the first installment of a new elementary school au. pLz leave feedback it has been so long since i've written and I am so ✨insecure✨

summary: you teach kindergarten and Mat Barzal is a P.E. Coach at Cornelia Street Elementary School. i don't know just give me validation plz

warnings: literally didn't even read it over. just copy-paste-post. mutual pining idiots to lovers?? some jealousy and angst???

WC: 5.6K

***

I. “then on a Wednesday in a cafe[teria], I watched it begin again”

You take a deep breath as you inspect your appearance in the teacher’s lounge bathroom at Cornelia Street Elementary. Your kindergarteners will be arriving at your classroom in nearly twenty minutes, so you wanted to get one final look in before starting the school day.

“Who’s the guy?” your friend and co-teacher, Molly, startles you as her figure appears behind you in the mirror.

“What do you mean?” You shake your head, sticking your hands under the sink for the automatic faucet to turn on.

Molly laughs, walking up next to you and leaning up against the counter, “You’re dressing up for someone! You never wore high heels until recently, and you check yourself in the mirror like 6 times a day. Who is it?”

You roll your eyes, pulling paper towels out of the dispenser and wiping your hands dry. “Sniff too much elmer’s glue again, Molly?”

You leave the restroom and lounge with Molly trailing closely behind. Turning into your classroom, you stop in the doorway when you find someone standing in the middle of your classroom, causing Molly to bump into your back.

“There you are!” Mat exclaims when he notices you and Molly enter the room. “I’ve been waiting here for, like, 10 minutes. Why do girls take so long in the bathroom together?”

You let out a nervous laugh. Molly stands at your side, glancing from Mat to you and back to Mat. You can tell she’s connecting the dots as the left corner of her smirk.

“Where else would we gossip about you?” Molly teases, snapping your attention away from Mat. You elbow her in her side, whispering her name scoldingly.

Mat rolls his eyes playfully, “Aww, Molls. Writing our initials in a heart on the bathroom wall again?”

You freeze at his comeback. Is he flirting with Molly? You try your best to remain calm. He’s Mat Barzal, he flirts with everyone.

“What are you doing in here anyway, Barzy?” Molly asks as she further enters the room, setting her briefcase on the desk and leaning up against it. She eyes you, as you haven’t taken one step further into the room. “Don’t you have a PE class to teach?”

Mat stiffens at the question, looking from Molly to you. He fumbles to start his response, “I, uh--” he looks to his immediate left and right, searching for an answer. “I needed a pen.”

Molly barks out a laugh, “a pen?” She turns to you, raising her eyebrows with a pointed look. “Did you hear that, Y/n? He needs a pen.”

You don’t respond to Molly, your body moving on autopilot towards your desk. “Here, I have a pen you can borrow!” You grab the first pen you get your hands on from the container on your desk and hold it out to him, trying your best to keep your hand steady.

Mat’s cheeks grow a rosy tint that matches your own. With a smile he takes the pen, finally looking it over. “Are you sure you won’t miss this one?” The smirk returns to his lips.

You furrow your brows, looking down to the pen he’s holding. It’s a purple glitter pen--your favorite pen. You shrug your shoulders, playing it off as no big deal, “Yeah, no worries. Keep it as long as you need.”

You spare a glance at Molly across the room, and you can tell she’s trying her very hardest not to laugh. The daggers you shoot at her with your eyes fail to get her to control her face.

“Thanks, Y/n, I appreciate it,” he says sweetly, giving you his million-dollar smile that makes all the lunch ladies swoon. “I’ll see you at Lunch Duty?”

You nod enthusiastically, “Totally. See you then.”

Mat stalls for a few seconds, shifting back and forth on his two feet before lifting the pen in another silent thank you. You try not to blush as you give a small wave goodbye, and he leaves the room.

Molly finally blows, erupting into laughter. You turn your attention towards her, a confused expression on your face. “What?”

“I guess that answers my question!” Molly exclaims, wiping an escape tear of laughter from her cheek.

You shake your head, placing your hands on your hips, “What question?”

“Which guy you’re dressing up for,” Molly explains as if it’s clear as day. “Seems to me like you’ve both got it bad.”

You blush again--probably for the 50th time in the last 10 minutes. “That’s it,” you huff. “No more glue for you.”

When 12:30 rolls around, Molly takes your class of kindergarteners to the Music Room while you head to the cafeteria for Lunch Duty. There’s nothing glamorous about watching elementary schoolers struggle to open their zebra cakes and milk cartons, but, for some reason, it’s your favorite time of day.

“Miss Y/n!” A voice cheerily calls out to you as you enter the cafeteria, and your gaze instantly lands on the source. That voice could pull you out of a coma. You could pick out that voice in a filled stadium of a Nickelback concert.

Mat waves at you from across the room, pulling out the chair next to him as if to tell you to come sit. You smile and wave back, making your way to him with your lunchbag in hand. It’s your Wednesday ritual to have lunch together, since it’s the only day of the week you are scheduled for Lunch Duty at the same time.

You sit gracefully in the chair next to Mat and set your bag on the table. Mat instantly reaches for it, spinning it one way then another as he searches for the zipper. You grab the lunch bag from his hands and pull it back to your side of the table.

“Excuse you!” You exclaim, playfully.

“Come on, Y/n, I’ve been waiting a week for this!” Mat whines, no better than one of your kindergarteners.

You peek into your bag making sure you have his treat, “Okay, okay.” You reach into the bag and close your fist around the circular fruit that you made sure to pack in your lunch--just like you do every Wednesday.

Mat shoves his hand in the big pocket of his backpack, then looks at you with an eager smile. “Ready? 1...2…” You both bring your hands out of your bags on 3, holding out the respective items for each other.

In the palm of your hand is a Cutie brand clementine, sticker already peeled off. You never really understood why Mat loves these so much, or why he never just buys them for himself, but you’ve been swapping lunch treats since the beginning of the school year.

You were sitting at the lunch table that was angled perpendicular to the student tables in the cafeteria. It was your first Lunch Duty of the year, so you made sure to get in the cafeteria before any of the students came in.

Now that you and Molly were co-teaching this year, you wouldn’t be on Lunch Duty together like you were last year. You didn’t think you should be nervous, being that it’s just Lunch Duty and you already had a year of teaching under your belt, but still, not having the comfort of your best friend around you made you a little more on edge.

No one told you who was going to be on duty with you, so when the new gym P.E. coach, Mat Barzal, strolled into the cafeteria, you stiffened in your seat. You noticed him a bit last year, but it was your first year with your own class of students, and you wanted to focus on being a good teacher rather than good-looking coaches. Mat was new to the school, too, but he seemed to be quick to make friends, talking to anyone around him. Like, anyone.

Like, even a first grader with a hockey AND a superhero obsession that wanted to know which NHL team each superhero would play for. You had eavesdropped on his answers while you were standing near them in the hallway.

(You remember this, because you had to hold yourself back from interjecting when he told the student that Superman would play for the Islanders. He would obviously be a Ranger.)

When he walked into the cafeteria that day, he strolled over to you and sat right down in the chair next to yours, jumping into conversation. You were munching on carrots when you realized that he had yet to pull out any food for lunch.

“Are you hungry?” you blurted out, interrupting whatever thought he was rambling on about while you were...you wouldn’t say staring...more like analyzing.

He deadpanned, “Yeah, but I’ve got some snacks back in the gym. I’m just going to eat them later.”

You shook your head, finding his answer unacceptable. “Here,” you said, looking into your lunch bag for anything to give him. “Do you like clementines?”

A smile spread on Mat’s face, “My mom used to buy them for me and my sister when we were kids. I haven’t had one in forever.”

You handed the fruit to him before he could protest. He accepted it graciously. “I’m Mat, by the way.”

“Y/n,” you told him.

The next week, you made sure to pack a clementine in your bag just in case he didn’t have a lunch again. You tried to hide the disappointment when you walked towards the table and saw that he didn’t actually forget this time.

That is, until you noticed the silver wrapper of a Fruit Roll-Up on the table in front of the empty chair.

“I wasn’t sure what flavor you liked, or if you even like these, but, like, everyone likes these,” Mat explained and you couldn’t hide your blush.

After sitting down next to him, you reached into your bag and pulled out the clementine, sliding it across the tabletop to him. Week after week, this unspoken trade agreement continued, neither one of you having forgotten yet.

You take the Fruit Roll-Up from his hand as he swipes the clementine and starts peeling.

“Oh, it’s the tongue-tattoo one!” You cheer, unrolling the fruit leather from the plastic film. Mat nods enthusiastically, but doesn’t speak, his mouth already full with slices of clementine.

You tear the fruit roll up in half and hold the half with the skull “tattoo” to him.

“No, Y/n, this is our trade. It’s yours,” he pushes your hand back, but you roll your eyes.

“I don’t need the whole roll, and the skull would suit you better,” you persuade him. “Just take it.”

With a smile, Mat takes the half and holds it to the light to find the skull printed in food dye. You hold up your half to tilt the crown “tattoo” to the right angle.

“Okay, ready?” You ask, and Mat nods. “One...two…”

On three, you press the sugary roll to your tongues and hold for a few seconds, making sure it’s long enough for the dye to transfer. You and Mat have done this enough times to know that the sweet spot is around 7 seconds.

Now facing each other in your chairs, you each stick out your tongues to show the other your tattoos. Mat lets out a loud laugh, and can’t help but mirror his reaction. You love this with Mat--getting to goof around with someone and finally laughing again.

Your last relationship ended nearly a year ago, and it left you devastated. You had dated Ryan all through college, and you thought he was going to propose after graduation. Little did you know, he had been applying to medical schools in London, rather than where you were in Seattle. He was never planning forever with you like you were with him.

Needless to say, it’s made you hesitant to start dating again. You don’t trust your instincts with reading people and you definitely don’t trust men.

“Here,” Mat hands his half back to you.

You squish your nose up at him, “Ew, your spit is all over it!”

Mat rolls his eyes playfully and holds the rollup even closer to your face, making you laugh. You try to bat his hand away, but he catches your hand with his free one instead.

“Oh please, it’s just a little slobber. Same as kissing!” He jokes, but the way he’s holding your hand and so easily talking about kissing makes you tense up. You feel like you’re 16 again, developing your very first school-girl crush with the way he’s stirring up dormant butterflies.

You look away, hoping to conceal your now very rosy cheeks, and Mat, thankfully, pretends not to notice. “Fine, mine now,” he shoves the whole rollup in his mouth, and your laughter breaks up the tension in your chest. You fall into easy conversation filled with laughter and banter, and it’s like the room full of rambunctious elementary schoolers doesn’t even exist.

II. “don’t you worry your pretty little mind, people throw [kickballs] at things that shine”

“Life just makes love look hard, Y/n,” Molly tells you. You came into school this morning looking down bad, and Molly was quick to figure out the root of the issue.

You saw Ryan last night. With a girl. Wearing a ring on her finger. You knew exactly what ring it was too, as his grandmother had showed it to you at Christmas one year and explained that it would be Ryan’s to give to the one he wanted to spend forever with. At the time you could’ve bet your life that his “one” was you.

You mope in your desk chair, “I know. It took him less than a year to meet someone new, fall in love, and commit. Love isn’t hard, but maybe I’m just hard to love.”

Molly gives you a sad look and opens her mouth to respond, but she is cut off by your classroom door opening. Your already glum face contorts into a sour expression when you see who has entered your classroom.

Alexa.

You spare a glance at Molly, who is already glaring at the 4th grade teacher. You try to hold back the chuckle that is bubbling in your throat. Alexa started working at Cornelia Street Elementary at the same time as you and Molly, but unlike you and your co-teacher, you were not fast friends.

Maybe it was her snarky attitude, or the way she told you and Molly to your faces that “kindergarten teachers are glorified babysitters” on the first day you met her. Either way, you and Molly were not fans.

“Hello, ladies!” Alexa screeches in a high-pitched voice.

Molly deadpans, “Whatever you want, the answer is no.”

Alexa’s nose scrunches in distaste, “I don’t want anything, Molls. I’m here to see if you both have signed up for the teacher-student kickball game next Friday.”

Molly winces at the use of her nickname, “Yes, Alexa. If you had just looked at the sign-up Google Sheet, you would’ve seen that both mine and Y/n’s names were already on the list.”

Alexa shrugs, brushing off Molly’s aggressive tone, “Well, good. I hear that Coach Barzal and Coach Beau will be team captains this year.”

Your body has a visceral reaction to hearing ‘Coach Barzal’, like your ears are rejecting the sound of her witch voice speaking his name. Molly flips her gaze in your direction, giving a smirk.

“Yes, Mat told Y/n the other day that he is going to be a team captain,” Molly lies between her teeth. He never told you that, but if there’s one thing Molly knows, it’s how to get under Alexa’s skin.

And she does. Alexa’s face pinches before clearing her throat, “It’s a shame none of us can have him, isn’t it?”

You and Molly mirror each other with confused expressions. “What do you mean?” you question.

“I mean, section 34.12B in the School Handbook,” Alexa replies as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Molly rolls her eyes, “And what is section 34.12B in the School Handbook?”

Alexa’s lips curl smugly, “Section 34 is the Teacher Code of Conduct, silly. And rule 12B clearly states that teachers working in the same school are not allowed to intermingle romantically or, well, otherwise. Any infraction will result in one of the teachers being immediately transferred to another school in the county.”

Your stomach drops, and Molly looks at you with a sorrowful expression.

“Didn’t either of you read the handbook when you started?” Alexa asks condescendingly. In truth, neither you nor Molly read that brick of a handbook. If you remember correctly, you think you ended up using it as a doorstop in your old classroom last year. No clue what happened to it after that.

“Of course we read it,” Molly, again, lies. “We’re just not psycho enough to have it memorized.”

Alexa glares at Molly. “I didn’t memorize it. I just recently refreshed my memory after talking to Coach Barzal the other day. He had asked me to get drinks with him, so I wanted to see what the policy was on dating colleagues.”

You whip your head to Molly, a confused expression on your face. Molly takes your reaction in stride and stands from her seat at her desk.

“This has been so fun, Alexa,” Molly walks towards the 4th grade teacher at the classroom door, who takes the hint and starts backing up. “But we have to prepare for a day of babysitting, so if you don’t mind…”

Molly backs Alexa out of the doorway and shuts the door in her face. She leans back on the door to find you sitting with a sad puppy look on your face.

“I’m sure she was bullshitting like she always does,” Molly tells you.

You sigh and slump into your chair. An airy chuckle escapes Molly’s lips and you flick your eyes to her face, wondering what could possibly be funny.

“What? Why are you laughing?”

Molly shakes her head, muffling more laughs.

“Come on, spit it out.”

“It’s nothing,” Molly starts, a smile growing on her lips. “I just fucking knew it.”

You furrow your brows, “Knew what?”

“Knew you had a thing for Coach Barzal.”

You really don’t want to play kickball, if you’re being honest. You always hated gym class growing up, because you weren’t necessarily skilled in hand-eye coordination. The only reason you signed up for this student-teacher kickball game for the upper grades was for Molly. And...someone else.

Mat and his co-coach, Tito, are standing in the middle of the gym giving instructions to the 4th and 5th grade classes. The rules are simple: kick, run, and no cheap shots. You’re not sure if 4th graders were capable of taking cheap shots, but you realize that this rule might not be directed at them. If you’ve learned anything over the last year or so of teaching, it’s that adults are just really big Big Kids.

Once they finish explaining to the students and teachers how the game will work, Mat announces that it’s time to pick teams. The students are counted off by twos for their teams to make sure no kid feels like they’re being picked last--especially by the teacher--but the teachers are to be specifically chosen by the captains.

Tito, the captain of the A team, scans the crowd of teachers for his first pick. “Mr. Kessler,” Tito picks the 3rd grade teacher first. It’s a great first pick, since David Kessler apparently played sports in college.

Mat looks at the group like he’s searching for someone, and his eyes land on you. The right corner of his lips pulls up into a smirk. Your palms start sweating--either due to the nerves of feeling like you’re back in grade school again, or from the way he is looking at you.

“Mr. Peterson,” Mat’s gaze leaves yours as he picks the 5th grade parapro. Again, you don’t think it’s a bad idea to start setting up the team with the best players before moving on to, well, you.

The two coaches go back and forth until all of the seemingly more athletic teachers are assigned teams. When it’s time for Tito to pick again, his eyes land directly on you. You look to your left, then to your right, then behind you, just to make sure he wasn’t looking through you to someone else. But no one else looked like they were paying enough attention to be the one he was focusing on.

A smirk draws up Tito’s lips as he looks at Mat. Mat rolls his eyes and pushes his shoulder, making Tito teeter a bit. “Just pick, man,” Mat urges, and Tito looks back at you.

“Molly,” Tito chooses, and you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

Molly lets out an airy laugh and nudges you with her elbow, “Damn, they’re splitting us up.”

You roll your eyes, but on the inside your stomach flutters at the thought of being chosen by Mat. He glances your way every so often that you think it might be coming, but you try to keep your cool.

“Umm,” Mat starts, like he’s about to think out loud. “I’ll pick…” Mat’s eyes scan the group and he stops on you for a brief moment, but passes you over. “Alexa.”

Your heart drops into your ass.

You look to Molly, hoping that her usual cool and collected demeanor will level you, but she’s speaking lowly to Tito with furrowed brows.

“Y/n, you’re on my team,” Tito calls out next. You make your way towards the rest of the A team, and, despite the voice in your head screaming ‘don’t look at him, don’t look at him’...you look at Mat, gauging his reaction.

He looks completely unbothered. A smile is even gracing his face. It’s not like you thought he was necessarily interested in you, but, fuck, you at least thought he liked you better than Alexa. And now you’re wondering if there was any truth to her comments in your classroom last week.

Once the teams are sorted out, the captains flip a coin to decide who will kick first. Tito calls heads while the coin is in the air, and sure enough the coin lands on heads. Tito calls a huddle while Mat gets his team organized into positions.

“Alright team, listen up,” he starts, clapping his hands once. “We need a strong offensive start.”

The students jump around excitedly as Tito lines them up along the gym wall behind the designated “home plate”. He orders the team with one teacher kicking after every few students.

Molly is in the front of the line with Thomas, an eager 4th grader ready to play. He walks to the plate, backs up a few steps, and waits for Mat to pitch the ball. Mat winds up before releasing the ball in a (relatively) straight line to Thomas.

Thomas runs up to the ball, going for the kick, and….he misses. Tito jogs up to him, squatting to his level. “It’s okay, bud, let’s try again. You can do it, just keep your eye on the ball.”

The little boy nods and steps back up to the plate. Tito nods at Mat who winds up and rolls the ball once more. A little more cautiously this time, Thomas runs for the ball. He swings back his left foot and propels it forward, making contact with the ball and sending it soaring towards Mat.

Mat lets the ball drop in front of him, fumbling around to pick it up while Thomas runs to first base. Once he’s about halfway there, Mat tosses the ball to one of the fifth graders who is guarding the base. Thomas, unsurprisingly, is safe.

A few more students and teachers take turns kicking the ball, and before you know it, there are two students and Molly on base with two outs on the board. You were hoping that you would be able to linger in the back of the line long enough to avoid taking a turn, but Tito calls you up to the plate.

“Okay, Miss Y/n, bring ‘em home!” Tito encourages, and you roll your eyes at him.

“Doubtful,” you respond. Walking up to the plate, you make eye contact with Mat, waiting for him to roll you the ball. He takes a deep breath and raises his eyebrows to you.

“Ready?” He calls out.

You shake your head, “No, but do I have a choice?”

Mat laughs. ‘You got this!” he tells you, and winds up to roll the ball. Maybe he does it on purpose, but when he rolls the ball, it veers off to the left.

“Come on, Barzy, give her something she can work with!” Tito chirps, as Mat jogs to grab the ball from one of the students that picked it up.

Instead of returning to his makeshift pitcher’s mound, Mat strides towards you, catching you off guard.

“What are you doing, Mat?”

“You looked nervous,” he says. “Thought you could use a better pep talk than Beauvis over there.”

“It’s...elementary school kickball,” you say with a laugh.

Mat rolls his eyes, “This is a very serious game, Y/n. There’s a lot at stake.”

The smirk that forms on his lips sends a ripple down your spine. “Like what? A pizza party?” you joke.

Mat pushes your shoulder playfully, and a shout erupts from the sidelines. You both look to where Tito is standing with his arms raised in question. “Quit messing with my teammate, Barzal!” Tito yells.

Mat waves him off. “Keep your eye on the ball, and I’ll roll it slowly. Kick with the inside of your foot to get more distance, and, for the love of God, take off those dumb sandals.”

You look down at the strappy sandals on your feet. “What? They’re cute and comfortable!“

Mat rests a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly. “Cute until you break an ankle. Just trust me and do it, Miss Y/n!”

You roll your eyes and kick your shoes off to the side while Mat backs up to the middle of the gym. You step up to the plate again and Mat winds up his pitch. The ball rolls in a straight line towards you, and you take his advice by kicking the ball from the inside of your foot. It’s a hard kick, too, so the ball soars over towards second base.

“RUN!” Tito yells from the sidelines, urging everyone on base to get moving. The student that was on 3rd base waddles home, scoring a run for your team, while the fielders scramble to get the ball.

There are some mishaps in passing the ball between the 4th and 5th graders in the field, so Molly is able to run home as well as you round first base. You look to Mat to find that he’s yelling at you to run to second, despite being on your opposing team, which coincides with the screams from Tito behind you. Now you're really thankful you took off those sandals.

You take off from first base towards second base, when out of the corner of your eye, you see Alexa grab the ball straight out of a 4th grader’s hands. She winds her arm back and throws the ball right at you, probably as hard as she can by the sting of contact on your left arm.

“Out!” Alexa yells as you slow your pace to a stop. “That’s three!”

The teams start shuffling as they switch from field to kicking and vice versa. You stay in your place, figuring you’ll just linger in the “outfield” anyway, while Molly comes up to you.

“That bitch is a dirty player,” Molly spits, turning to glance at Alexa. “Did you see how she just ripped the ball from a kid? Geez.”

“It’s just the game,” you brush it off, not wanting to seem fazed by how she so obviously was out to get you. You don’t realize Mat walks up to you and Molly until you feel a hand rest on the small of your back.

“Are you okay?” Mat asks, moving his hand to gently brush the red spot on your arm where the ball hit you.

You try not to blush at the contact as you nod and wave him off, “Yeah, yeah, I’m good.”

“Tough play, but it was a great kick,” Mat tries to be encouraging. “Who knew Lex could hustle like that.”

You wince at the nickname and look at Molly, who is sporting a scowl.

“Lex could’ve knocked a kid unconscious if she had missed,” Molly retorts, and Mat clears his throat awkwardly and removes his arm.

He shrugs his shoulders, “Yeah, I guess she could’ve.” There’s a brief pause and you hear Tito in the background positioning his students on the field. “So, Y/n--”

“Mat--I mean, Coach Barzal!” Alexa’s voice rings through the gym, interrupting Mat. “Come over here!”

“I think you should get back to your team, Mat,” you tell him. “Wouldn’t want to keep your star player waiting.”

He frowns at you, but nods, “Yeah, guess so.”

You didn’t mean to sound jealous--you really have no right to be. You weren’t even sure why you were so affected by the idea of Mat and Alexa. It’s not like there is a Mat and Y/n.

Well, maybe you do know why. You watch as Mat jogs over to his team, giving each kid a high five and circling them up for a pep talk. You can hear their laughs and cheers at his words of encouragement, and you smile involuntarily. He is so good with the kids and he really cares about them--you can tell that he puts his heart into what he does.

“Ready, team?” Tito’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts. The rest of your team cheers in response and Tito starts the next inning.

The rest of the game flies by with excitement. You all only make it a few more innings before it’s time for the kickball game to end and everyone to finish out their Friday school day. Tito was overjoyed, to put it lightly, when his A Team won the game, and you could tell he was already taunting Mat with it. Mat, though extremely competitive throughout the game, was a good sport about it in front of his B Team.

Since your and Molly’s class would still be in their Music Class for another 10 minutes or so, you two stayed back in the gym while the 4th and 5th grade teachers got their students together.

“Well, ladies, it was a good game,” Tito says to you and Molly, giving you both high fives. “Sorry you got blitzed, Y/n.”

You let out a laugh, “Thanks Beau, but it wasn’t that bad, was it?”

Tito rubs his hand on the back of his neck, “I don’t know. Alexa went for blood with that hit.”

Molly scoffs, “Alexa is going to taste blood next time she pulls something like that.” You bump Molly with your hip, giving her a pointed look, but Tito just laughs at her comment and falls into conversation with Molly.

You eye the way Molly reacts to making Tito laugh, a wave of something resembling pride or satisfaction washing over her. You haven’t seen her look...giddy like this until watching her talk to Tito. Interesting, you think.

After a few minutes, you decide it’s time to pick up your kids from the Music Room, and you tell Molly she can just catch up with you in the classroom in a bit. You make sure to give her a suggestive smirk, glancing back and forth from her to Tito without him picking up on it. She rolls her eyes and waves her hand at you, gesturing to you to exit.

As you’re walking out of the gym, though, Mat calls out to you, jogging towards you before you can leave.

“Y/n! Wait up a second!”

You turn towards him as he slows down in front of you. “What’s up?”

“Um, where are you headed off to?” He asks, almost like he is stalling.

You furrow your brows, but respond, “Gotta pick up our class from Music.”

Mat nods, “Oh, yeah, for sure. Shouldn’t Molls be with you?”

You glance back at your friend, where she is laughing and twirling a strand of her hair while talking to the young coach. “Nah, I can handle it this time. She’s...preoccupied.”

Mat follows your gaze and lets out a snort, “Tito is so hopeless. He’s been gone for her for so long now.”

“Oh yeah?” You question, thinking maybe this could be a chance to set Molly up with a nice guy. If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Molly, it’s that she usually has terrible taste in men. “How do you know? Has he said something?”

Mat shakes his head, “No, but he doesn’t have to. I mean, guys are so much easier to read than girls. Like, if a guy is interested in a girl? You’ll definitely be able to tell.”

You have to keep your shoulders from slumping. You think back to all the times you’ve interacted with Mat, and you can’t recall one instance of Mat acting the way Tito is with Molly right now.

“Yeah,” you sigh, looking back at the pair. “I guess you’re right.”

OKKKKKKK SOOOOOOOOOOO TELL ME WHAT U THINK HELLO PLZ FEED ME BACK FEEDBACK LOOP FEED ME WHAT DO WE THINK?????????????????????????????????????

#mat barzal #mat barzal fic #nhl fanfiction #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal x reader #mathew barzal

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heartcal · 3 years

Text

“who do you believe?”; l.h.

Disclaimer: i didn’t want to write sierra as a bad person because i personally cannot see that, and i know there’s some discourse about her within in the fandom but i don’t want any of that here! so i named the girlfriend after a girl who bullied me in elementary school lol (but another disclaimer: i do not want to see any hate towards the boys’ s/o! pls don’t send any asks that talks bad about them, i will not answer them!)

thank you for requesting! :^)

a/n: while transfering this from microsoft word, the formatting kept screwing up for some reason so if there are some janky paragraphs, i apologize! not too comfortable with this one compared to my previous fic (this feels rushed) but it is long and i did not mean for that to happen lol. enjoy!

if there are any mistakes, please tell me!

pairing(s): not really a mention of luke hemmings x reader but it’s mostly luke hemmings x named gf (rachel/oc) (gender neutral but if i slipped up, please let me know!)

summary: having known luke for years, it was bound to happen eventually. the crush you developed happened before you could stop it, and you did your best to keep it a secret. you told no one, did your best not to show it, so what do you do when his girlfriend finds out?

genre: angst, and mostly angst >:^)

warnings: swearing, luke’s gf being mean, bullying?

wc: 4,057 (she’s a long one)

my masterlist!

You don’t know when it happened, or frankly how it happened, but one thing is for sure: you don’t want to feel this way.

Was it when he bought you a stuffed animal version of a pet you had as a kid, one that you remember so fondly and still tear up about it to this day? Or was it when he would always bring back a certain candy you can only find in its country of origin, and bring as much as customs would allow? Maybe it was when he printed out every photo he could find from the beginning of your friendship to the present day (at that time) and made a scrapbook for your birthday since you cherish memories?

Whatever memory it was, you want to track it down and destroy it. It wasn’t fair that you developed such strong feelings for your best friend, knowing he doesn’t feel the same since he’s taken.

It’s not that he isn’t attractive – far from that because if anything, you wish you could draw just so you can draw him because there’s no way someone can look that good – but it’s more of the fact that he’s your best friend, someone you hold dear to you.

You two grew up together; saw each other’s worst phases, styles, and embarrassing moments (it was well documented towards the middle of the scrapbook). He was with you when you went through bad break-ups, and you with him. Throughout school, you two were inseparable, and when the band got big he made sure to keep you close and to never lose contact. It was hard in the beginning but you two managed.

Now finished with college, you’ve taken on the role of working with the team when they’re on tour and helping plan aesthetics for the next album. He offered the jobs after you struggled to find a job after graduation, and in the end, you enjoyed being with the guys and doing the tasks needed.

Tonight, the band was set to play their new album to an intimate crowd. It was to welcome back old fans and welcome new fans, introducing both sides to a new sound they worked hard on. You couldn’t be any more proud.

You sat on the couch as the guys walked around the room, pepping themselves up and hyping each other. You had finished doing your tasks with the crew and spent your free time watching the band prepare as the audience began to fill in the theater seats.

A nudge on your arm makes you direct your eyes from Michael styling his hair with a nervous expression to the person on your left.

“What’s up?” you asked, smiling at the curly-haired individual.

Luke shrugs, glancing around the room before his eyes land back on you. He has a small smile on his face as he leans back onto the couch, “Nothing.”

You scoff, shaking your head with a smile, “Yeah, sure, ‘nothing,’” you mimic, tilting your head to the side, “I doubt that.”

“What do you want me to say?”

You give him an incredulous look, crossing your arms as you turn to face him. You can tell he’s nervous, like the rest of the team and the band, but he won’t admit it. He’s always wanted others to view him as strong and unbothered, especially when those around him feel off.

He mirrors your position, a smirk on his lips because he knows you’re about to lecture him.

And he’s right.

“Your band has a new album out in a couple of days—an album you guys have worked hard on even when your management gave you shit, mind you—and you’re about to perform a majority of the songs in front of 500. Are you not nervous?”

He shakes his head, smugly smiling as he returns to his position leaning against the couch, watching Ashton dry the wet ends of his hair.

“Liar,” you mumble, uncrossing your arms and taking your phone out to check the time.

“Alright,” Luke sighs, giving in, “maybe I’m a little nervous, but I’m not a wreck.”

He’s still a liar. The success of their last album was astounding, so creating an album to reach that level and hopefully top it was hard enough. Playing it in front of an intimate crowd who may or may not like it was tough.

Luke isn’t cocky. He’s a humble man, but he likes to joke around in stressful situations. He’s used to concerts, so he doesn’t have any anxiety when it comes to performing. But when he is nervous for any reason, he won’t show it. He’ll act cool, completely collected with his head held high in confidence. If he needs to relieve the stress, he’ll either do it himself with a strong pep talk, or he’ll go to you.

“What are you nervous about?” You ask, wanting to make him feel better.

“Will they like it? Will it even chart? Is it too bold?” he continues listing out his insecurities about the album and the performance, finally lifting everything off his chest.

And you listen. The way his eyes stare into yours with slight confidence, covered by worry makes your heart sore. Luke’s kept everything inside and now that he’s listing his grievances, it makes you wonder just what else you can get out of him that he’s kept buried inside.

However, before you can give him your insight on this particular problem, “Luke!”

His head immediately turns to the door, the worry in his eyes fading out into sheer happiness and adoration. Something you’ve always wanted to see directed towards you.

Luke stands arms wide as he captures his girlfriend in his arms for a hug. Her arms wrap around his waist as his arms go around her shoulders, dipping his head down to kiss her on the head.

“I can’t believe you made it!” you hear him speak with excitement, expressing more words of happiness as he guides her to another part of the room.

You don’t miss the way her eyes glare in your direction, and you’re not afraid to give her a look back.

Rachel was nice when you met her. You actually liked her, despite your crush on Luke, and you were rooting for the two. But, a couple months ago during a stressful week, she turned on you. Her attitude towards you shifted, almost as if you had disrespected her and her bloodline. She would always act as if you weren’t in the room, and when plans were made with the boys, she would “accidentally” leave you out. It was embarrassing for you when you’d find out your friends went out, calling you to find out why you didn’t come. Due to the embarrassment, you would go along with it, making up some excuse as to why you were absent.

None of the boys, to your knowledge at least, have caught on to her antics, and you honestly hope they don’t. Whatever it is you did to her, you want to find out for yourself so you can fix it.

With a sigh, you stand from the couch, stretching your arms briefly before wandering to Calum, who stood in the shower room connected to the dressing room.

“Hey,” you greeted him with a warm smile.

He smiles back, finishing his drink before tossing the plastic cup in the trash. He grabs his bass, which was placed on the counter, and holds it out to you.

“You want me to see if it sounds out of tune?” you jokingly ask.

He nods, “Yeah, I feel like one of the chords might be flat.”

You chuckle as you pluck a random chord. His instruments are always tuned before it’s time to play. One of his pre-show nervous ticks was the constant doubt of his instruments being playable.

“It’s fine, Calum.”

The doubt shows on his face as he brings his guitar back to himself, putting it on and checking the chords himself, but it doesn’t last long as Ashton’s voice calls everyone to the center of the room.

Walking with Calum to where the rest of the crew was, you notice how attached Luke was to Rachel. Joint at the hip, arms wrapped around each other; it was annoying.

“Show starts in ten,” Ashton gains your attention, holding up a cup as Michael hands Calum a similar cup before doing the same to Luke. The three follow the drummer’s action as he continues, “let’s make this show fuckin’ awesome.”

The crew cheers, dying down quickly as Michael gives his thoughts, “We worked our asses off for this album, I don’t have any doubts about it. We got this, guys!”

The cheers resume as those with a drink take a celebratory sip before placing their empty cup on a surface near them.

Calum leaves your side to join Michael while Ashton heads to you.

“You excited?” he asks, putting his right arm around your shoulders with a large smile.

“Yeah!” you return the smile, “What about you? Nervous like the others?”

He shakes his head, crinkling his nose, “I’m not too nervous. I’m just happy to play again.”

You’re about to ask him what song he was the most excited to play, starting to get into the conversation but yet again you are interrupted by Rachel.

“Hey, Ash,” she greets him, Luke following close behind her as his arms make their way back around her shoulders again.

“Hi, Rachel,” Ashton nods his head at her – his eyes dance to Luke briefly before returning to Rachel’s, “didn’t think you’d make it.”

“Couldn’t miss your big show,” she smiles, looking up at her boyfriend as she pats his stomach.

Luke laughs, gently pushing her hand away from him, “I’m surprised, too—“ he grabs the guitar a crew member hands him, left arm lifting itself from Rachel’s shoulder as he slips the strap over his head, “—because her schedule did not look clear enough, but here she is.”

“Three minutes,” a different crew member rushes out, patting Luke and Ashton’s shoulders before rushing to tell the others.

“See you after,” Luke shifts his guitar away from Rachel before leaning down to kiss her on the lips – something you wish you didn’t see – and turning around to head out of the dressing room.

Ashton gives you a quick hug, “Excited for the lights,” he mumbles in your ear before turning to Rachel to give her a side hug.

It doesn’t go unnoticed how Rachel’s eyes glared at you by Ashton, but he doesn’t mention it as he heads out with the other guys towards the stage.

As a majority of the crew follow them out, you stay behind to clean up the empty cups and other trash, trying to occupy yourself as Rachel too stayed behind.

Her eyes followed you as you moved about the room, carrying the small plastic bag with you as it fills up with cups and wrappers. You could feel the glare burning into your side and back as you paid her no mind.

When it was just you two left, the bass from their opening song was heard and felt as you finished picking up the garbage.

“For how long have you liked Luke?”

You froze. Your head whipped towards Rachel, wide-eyed as you glanced around the room to make sure it was just the two of you.

“What…what are you talking about?” You can feel an extreme warmth rising up from the bottom of your back, all the way to your face, nervousness clouding your brain as she stares you down.

“Luke—,” she crosses her arms and moves to the couch, “how long have you liked Luke?”

“I don’t—I,” you stutter, your stomach dropping as you realize you’ve been caught.

His girlfriend knows you like him.

“Cut the bullshit,” she spits, “I can see it. You’ve been friends with him for years, you obviously caught feelings for him.”

You shake your head, standing up straight to give off the illusion of confidence. Turning your back to her and towards the door, “I don’t have to talk to you.”

You opted for walking out of the dressing room and go watch the band from the side of the stage, but you made a quick stop in the bathroom to splash cold water on your face.

You did what you could to avoid her during their performance. You knew she was watching you, seething at how you ended the conversation so fast.

Rachel wanted to break you down, find the reason why you like him and separate you two for as long as it takes to make him fall in love with her. She finds you a problem in their relationship because of how close you and Luke are, because of how long you’ve known each other. A threat to her and her relationship.

An hour and a half later, the show is finished and the whoops and cheers from the crowd indicate the album was very well received. That thought swept the interaction with Rachel from earlier under the rug as the boys’ adrenaline spread throughout the crew.

Ashton was first to greet you, sweaty and ready to envelop you in a hug but you’re quick to avoid it, ducking down just as his arms closed around the space where your head was. He laughs it off, heading for his next victim.

Next was Calum, who grabbed a drink from Andy and gulped it down. He had a smile on his face after, only growing wider when he saw you. “I think they liked it!”

“Bass in tune, huh?” you return, patting his back as he passes you to go to the next person.

Michael is the third, taking off his hat (which made you question why he was so worried about his hairstyle that he spent at least fifteen minutes playing with before the show). He stops in front of you, phone in hand as he takes a picture of the two of you: a tradition he started a few tours ago as a joke.

Finally, Luke makes his way towards you, ready to ramble about the show but is brisked away by Rachel. He doesn’t even glance over at you after he’s taken away towards the hall.

Entering the dressing room where the rest of the boys sat, you saw Michael talking animatedly on the phone, Calum laying across the couch with an arm over his eyes, and Ashton wiping off excess sweat with a towel. He was the first one to notice you.

“Ready for that hug?” he asks as you approach him.

“Why not.”

You hug each other, smiling as you pulled away. In the distance, over the cool-down music, you hear Luke’s laughter in the hall. Knowing he’s with Rachel makes you wonder if she’s told him about her suspicions, and that thought alone makes you clam up all over again.

Ashton immediately notices, tilting his head as he asks you what’s wrong.

“Nothing,” you quickly reply, eyes focusing on him.

He notices how jittery you seem, but he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable so he says nothing.

“Guys,” Andy comes in with his camera in hand, “we need to take a few photos.”

The three agree and follow the photographer out. You move to the snack table for a bottle of water, but before you can take a sip, someone clears their throat in the doorway.

You roll your eyes immediately because you know who it is. You don’t pay her any attention and instead take the sip of water you need.

“We need to finish that conversation you oh-so rudely ended,” Rachel moves into the room, keeping her voice down as she crosses her arms.

“We don’t need to finish anything.”

She scoffs, “I asked you a question, and you were so quick to avoid it. I think you’re proving a point.”

“What point?” you turn to look at her, “I know you don’t like me but I don’t know why, can we start with that?”

“Like I said before, I know you like Luke. He’s my boyfriend, and I don’t like how he’s close to you.”

“We grew up together,” you state, standing tall as you glare at her, “of course we’re going to be close.”

“Well I don’t like it,” she huffs.

You shake your head with a sigh, closing the lid to the bottle as you turn your back to her. You were getting angry at the fact that someone who didn’t know Luke as long as you did was hinting that you should stay away from him.

“Stop hanging out with him.”

A curt laugh escapes you before you can stop it, “Are you jealous of our friendship?”

“No,” she smirks, “but I know you’re jealous of our relationship.”

She’s right; you’re only a little jealous of their relationship, but it’s not something you want to risk your friendship with.

You open your mouth to defend yourself, but you’re caught off-guard when nothing comes out. The one opportunity to make her believe you don’t like her boyfriend and you can’t say anything.

Giving up with sinking shoulders, you glance at the door before looking back at her. Grimacing at her knowing smile, “How did you find out?”

She hums, “It was easy. I love him, so I know what it looks like to look at someone you love. You made it so obvious, I’m surprised no one else found out!”

You grit your teeth. You did your damn best to make sure no one, especially Luke or Rachel, know how you feel about him.

“I’m not intimidated by you,” she walks closer to you, arms uncrossing as her hands move to her hips, “but I won’t deny the fact that you and Luke have chemistry.”

“What will it take—” you place the bottle back on the table, “—for you to leave me alone?”

“Do the same to him.”

“What?”

“Leave him alone, unfriend him,” she shrugs, “simple as that.”

“That’s ridiculous,” you walk around her to the door, ready to end the conversation.

“Do that or I’ll tell him,” with a harsh tone she walks towards you, grabbing your arm to stop you from walking.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Okay,” another voice from the doorway makes the two of you jump, “that’s enough.”

Ashton walks into the room, grabbing Rachel’s hand and removing it from your arm.

“W—” she stutters out as she watches the tall man move to stand in front of you.

“I came back for my drumsticks—” his eyes shift to the object sticking out of his bag before dropping down to Rachel, “—but instead I find you, what, threatening a good friend of ours?”

Rachel is speechless while you’re frozen. It was embarrassing enough for one person to find out about your crush on Luke, but now Ashton might know and you want to go into hiding.

“Let it go,” you tug on Ashton’s shirt to get his attention but he doesn’t move.

“Telling someone who’s known your boyfriend longer than your relationship to just abandon him is low, Rachel. Don’t think the way you’ve been treating our friends has gone unnoticed.”

You hear more footsteps approaching the room, and now you wish the ground can swallow you up. You don’t want all this attention on you.

“What’s happening here?” Michael says as he peeks into the room, Luke behind him as Calum leans against the other side of the doorway.

“Nothing—,” Rachel tries to deflect but with four pairs of eyes on her, it becomes too much. Tears start pouring out, and you’re in disbelief.

How can she be the one crying after she was the one who was rude to you?

Luke immediately rushes in, creating a beeline right to her side to wrap her in his arms.

His eyes dart to yours, an emotion on his face of something you’ve never seen, but you know it’s not good.

“What did you do?”

You’re taken back by his tone and the way his angry eyes stare you down. It hurts because instead of staying neutral and finding out what exactly happened, he immediately chose a side: a side of someone he’s known for only for a short amount of time.

“Mate,” Ashton speaks up for you, “I think you’re asking the wrong person that.”

“No,” Luke’s voice raises, eyes moving from yours to stare into his band mate’s, “I’m asking the right person.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, your eyes welling with tears as the weight of everything happening within the last ten minutes starts to bring you down. Your eyes move away from the ones boring into yours, and with a tremble in your voice, “I didn’t do anything. She’s the one who started—.”

“Bullshit!” Luke’s roar cuts you off, “Absolute bullshit, because if she started it, then why is she the only one crying?!”

The two other guys move in to the room to mediate the situation.

“Luke, calm down,” Michael’s hands raise to the motion of ‘calm down’ as he tries to get Luke’s attention.

“There’s gotta be more to the story,” Calum moves to your side, checking on you briefly.

“Don’t,” Luke states as he watches Calum grab your shoulders to move you out of the room.

“Don’t you think you’re overreacting?” Ashton questions. He watches Luke soothingly rub Rachel’s back, wiping her tears with his free hand.

“My girlfriend is crying and you two were the only ones in here,” Luke replies, gently grabbing Rachel’s arms so he can look directly into her eyes, “what happened, babe?”

“I asked them—,” Rachel sniffles, continuing her façade, “—if they needed any help cleaning the room earlier and they yelled at—at me and told me to go away. Then after the show when you guys went for your photos, I came here to apologize to her, even though I didn’t do anything wrong.”

She was selling it; the tears, the sniffling, the stutters, and hiccups. A great actress who knows what she wants.

“That’s not true,” you inhale, your ears feeling warm and ringing, “she has had a problem with me lately and I don’t know why!”

Luke scoffs, shaking his head, wrapping Rachel in his arms again.

“C’mon,” Michael mumbles, wanting to leave the room.

Ashton turns around, watching your face go from pleading to blank as the tears fall from your eyes. He turns his head to face Luke, “You’re unbelievable,” he grabs your shoulders and starts to move you out of the room, “let’s go.”

Michael is already out of the room, the tension too much for him and ruining the after-show vibe. Calum is waiting by the door ready to help lead you out. Ashton has you turned around, pushing you towards the door.

“Wait, Luke,” you mumble, getting out of Ashton’s hold and turning back to face Luke.

He doesn’t look at you, sighing as he rubs Rachel’s head as it’s against his chest.

“Please,” you plead, begging him to look at you and when he does, you ask, “who do you believe?”

“What?”

“Who do you believe, Luke,” you gulp with a sniffle, “me or her?”

For a moment, you think you see hesitation. His jaw tenses as he stares you down, his best friend for years and someone he turned to when times got tough. He then looks down at the girl in his arms, someone he loves crying into his chest.

He sighs again, this time soft, before looking up to meet your eyes. He does notice the tears, the pain etched on your face as his other best friends watch them. “I believe Rachel.”

“This is fucking stupid,” Ashton mutters as he gently grabs your shoulders again to lead you out of the room.

You let the tears fall freely, not meeting any of the boys’ eyes as you kept your head face down.

You’ve lost your best friend. He chose someone else over you, a lie he chose to believe.

Whatever it was that made you catch feelings for your best friend, you wish you can find it and destroy it, along with any other memory you’ve made with him. After tonight, you want him erased from your cherished memories.

---

part two!

#5sos imagines #5sos blurbs #5sos drabbles #5sos one shots #5 seconds of summer imagines #5 seconds of summer blurbs #5 seconds of summer one shots #5 seconds of summer drabbles #luke hemmings imagines #luke hemmings blurbs #luke hemmings drabbles #req #5sos preferences #5 seconds of summer preferences #5sos imagine #5sos preference #5 seconds of summer imagine #5 seconds of summer preference

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hitoshisbabygirl · 3 years

Text

Keys hit the table and the usual grunt of cuss words fill the living room of the shared apartment of Bakugou and his roommate [ ]. Hearing the angry blonde enter [ ] felt herself getting up as she entered into the shared living room of them “Bad day?” She asked as vermillion eyes glanced towards her concerned [ ] ones. “ ‘M fine'' The usual grunt filled the room as he pushed back past the worried girl. Frowning and used to this curt greeting of his from the last few days [ ] sighed and went back to their kitchen yelling to the blonde that she started a shower for him, getting no real response from him.

Bakugou and [ ] had an odd relationship. They started to live together because of the boys burning his kitchen on their day off when they all lived together. He told the others ‘She was the only smart one out of his dumbass friends and the only one he could trust to not burn his place down’ and with that the usual group of Sero, Denki and Kirishima moved out of his place and to the place beside him ,the group wanting to still be around the grumpy blonde. [ ] was used to coming over with Mina and the group being around before Bakugou asked her, quite aggressively one day ( Oi you're moving in with me, i'm tired of these dumbasses destroying my place on their days off of patrol) which is how they ended in this arrangement

Even with Bakugou being a handsome and very popular hero with ladies, he never had anyone over, no awkward run-ins with [ ] staying there, nothing at all. He rarely even left the house to visit the others unless he knew he had the time for it. Bakugou was dedicated , being the #2 hero he had little time for much outside of work. He refused to take brakes, no matter how much [ ] and the others tried to get him out hed huff and puff about work until he actually had fun at whatever function it was that he was dragged to so he could get fresh air

He'd been like this since highschool when she met him. Angry , confidence that was more like cockyness, a temper to be messed with, prideful and not afraid to speak his mind, good or bad. [ ] could remember from when she used to get paired with him how smart he actually was, but how he could also belittle you if you didn't realize he gave you backward compliments. She owns him over with taking him head to head on, in practice battles and in the work behind the scenes. Bakugou wouldn't admit it but [ ] kept him together, more than he let show on the outside. From bandaging him up after an intense fight, to letting him vent when he was angry ; [ ] was there for everything, his good , bad and ugly.

Hearing the showeer turn off [ ] continued to find them something to eat as the silence in the room was comforting. As dinner started she took his hero clothes to the washer, starting the load so he'd have a fresh outfit, even with him having multiples of the hero costume, he was quite fawn of the one that he had gotten during highschool, the measurements needing to be increased heavily for his now large size but that was nothing for [ ]. As a gift once he got his own agency she had repaired the old threads, even going far enough to bulking them up so they'd be less prone to ripping or shrinking. That was the one time [ ] had seen emotion flash through the stoic blonde before he thanked her, genuinely with a rare smile that blessed his face.

Soon though, she felt a presence in the room. Turing around she was met with those same vermillion eyes, this time the look in them unreadable as he stared his friend down “Yes Kasuki?” [ ] said as she turned back to the boiling pot of rice on the stove “What Are cooking?” He asked as he stood over the aisle to see what she was stirring. “Rice so far, do you want chicken, fish or beef to go with it?” She asked as she turned to the still staring blonde, his eyes wavering as she stared back at him “Are you okay Suki?” [ ] said again as he pushed himself up , crossing around the aisle before going to her side “You don't have to do this for me” He said as she ignored him “ So Chicken is fine?” “[ ], i'm not a child you don't have to keep treating me like one” Sighing the girl turned to him, seeing that he was hunched over the counter, stretching his back as she could see the pained expression as he pulled out the muscle “Sit down yeah? Consider this an early birthday present to you” [ ] said as he gave her a glare “That doesn't mean you have to constantly cook and do shit like this for me, I have two weeks before it anyway” “Katsuki, sit down and take the kindness i'm giving you and hush” Pointing with her stirring spoon [ ] shooed the now grumbling and fussing blonde away. Just a usual day in the apartment

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

Hearing a loud cuss from the living room [ ] got up to see her roommate slump against the door, face tensed in apin as he ganced to the concerned girl “Shit, fix your face princess ‘m fine, just a bit of - fuck…- jsut soem pain is all” Reaching for the blonde [ ] helped him in, the larger male trying to hold up his weight as much as he could as she helped him to their bigger bathroom, sitting him on the toilet “Do you have any cuts or anything? Should we go to the doctor?” [ ] asked as a large hand sat over hers that went for his shirt “Im okay [ ], just some bruising and some little cuts here and there okay? Don't worry your pretty head about me” Feeling her face heat up she ignored what he said and started to help him out of his clothes, showing her a dark and slightly bloody mess of his rib cage. Wincing from the sight alone she started to lightly clean around the open wounds and surface scrapes around them. As she did he told her about the recent building that was destroyed from him using his blast too intense in one area like the villains he fought wanted him to. Another bad habit of BAkugous was beating himself up when he felt like he did poorly, which took a lot of trying to get him to let out. He would just overwork himself instead of relaxing and taking time to cool off and realize he wasn't the issue. “Any pain when I push here?” with a slight push bakugou hissed, eyes closing as she pressed deeper on his rib cage “Sorry sorry” Wrapping him up as tight as he could take [ ] stooped to look over his injuries, a frown on her lips “Stop it” Bakugou said, causing the girl to blink at him “ Stop what?” She asked as he met her eyes in the mirror “You're pouting. I'm a big boy thats what me being a hero is for i can take it , don't baby me” Her frown now deeping [ ] pushed his shoulder “Well you need a break , last week you were babying your shoulder now your ribs, im calling you in sick” Growling Bakugou went to sat something until he saw her face ; fear. She was afraid one night he wouldn't come home, that it would be the others telling her he was gone permanently. With a deep sigh he reached for her hand, pulling her back to him as he gave her a hug. Concerned and trying to come to her racing heart she looked up to those deep eyes of his, the same concert starting to fill them “ [ ]...i'll take the week off it makes you happy and rest, I’ll be okay alright? Just...please..I dont want to disappoint the one person who helps me even when im stupid and tells me what i need to hear without just agreeing with me” Shocked at his words all [ ] could do was rub his arm and bury her face in his warm chest, inhaling the smell of smoke and burnt caramel from his skin “Oi princess..” He rasped out as she just hummed , not moving from her spot. With ease the still injured blonde picked her up effortlessly and placed her on the sink, causing her to cry out. Slowly he let his hands trace her face, their eyes studying the other as he pressed his forehead to hers “Thank you..for dealing with me” He whispered against her lips as they slowly closed the gap between them, lips sealing in a soft peck. As soon as it happened it was over, Bakugou pulled away before he got too invested. Biting his bottom lip he gave her a lopsided smile, heading to his bedroom

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

4/20, The day of the birthday boy Katsuki rolled in a lot faster than he thought it would. Sitting up slowly he looked around his dark room, the bright light of 2:00 am mocking him as he got up to go to his kitchen. Seeing [ ] humped over at the computer sparked the explosion heros curiosity. Finishing his glass of water she came over to her, seeing that she had one last piece of paper in her hands that strangely looked like….

“Are those my reports?” a deep voice rumbled out. Letting out a screech [ ] jumped, turning in the swiveling chair to an almost adorable sight. A shirtless and sleepy Bakugou was rubbing his eyes as he let himself focus on her “Uhm...well yeah they are. They're all done now!” [ ] said as she gave him a wide smile whined the blondes' frowns deeped “You did all of my paperwork?” He said in disbelief as she looked at her hands , picking at her hand “Well yeah...I wanted you to have a non stressful birthday” She admitted as he scoffed , getting closer to her as he wrapped his arms around her neck and the top of the chair “You're so sweet...too good for me….” He grumbled as he hid his face in the nervous girl's neck. Gasping as she felt his hot lips kiss the junction of her neck she couldn't help but lean over more . letting him absentmindedly kiss her all over her shoulder and neck, little ‘Thank yous’ spilling from the tired man's lips. Still following his same path he worked his way up to her cheek, basking in the little laugh she let out as he nuzzled under her chin. Slowly what happened a few days ago repeated itself, they were face to face as his still sleep swarming eyes stared back at her curious ones. Tapping her bare leg from her seat she moved as he took her by the arm to his room. Hearing her heart in her ears [ ] sucked in a breath as he flopped on his luxury bed, making grabby hands at the standing girl. Giggling [ ] crawled in the bed with him as he pulled her on top of him “[ ]....” He groaned as she looked at him. Licking his lips as whispering Bakugou spoke “ I really like you...You and shitty hair dont have to do much for me all i want is you…” He said as she gave him a wide eyed look, not sure she heard him right “Yeah im finally admitting it...ive had a crush on you for a while...i never noticed it until Shitty hair called me out for having a worse mood when that good for nothing vibrating little shit tried to steal you from me at the banquet” As the comfortable silence filled the room he spoke up again “ And i really...wanna kiss you….but im scared you wouldn't like me back...after all these years of dealing with my shit and how i can be...your like a godsend to me..” As he opened his eyes to her he was surprised to feel her lips press against his , full and warm. Slowly he wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her in his lap as they kissed more and more, the kiss becoming deeper as she pulled away, whispering a soft ‘ I love you’ as he kissed her again until they drifted to sleep in eachothers arms.

#mha #bakugou katsuki #fluffy #ah domestic Bakugou #4/20 happy birthday Bakugou!#hbd baby #I love this man 🥺#my angry pompom #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou #bnha #katsuki bakugo x reader #this was supposed to post yesterday but yknow it didn’t work 😀#i hate it here sometimes #ahem anyway #enjoy!#💕💕

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stylesberries · 4 years

Text

Love On Tour

Summary: Your parents are coming to meet him but you chose to keep it a secret.

Genre(s): fluff, a little smut

Word Count: 2.3k

Warning(s): this made me very soft, read at your own risk, peeps + mentions of sexual intercourse

You tossed and turned throughout the whole night, not being able to focus on sleep. The man next to you was desperately holding onto your body, making it hard for you to change the position you were in.

You were waiting for your mom to text you, saying that she and dad landed safely in Rome. They’d never been in Italy before. Harry was here touring with Fine Line. He’d never met your parents.

You put two and two together and thought that this was an amazing opportunity for you to finally introduce your boyfriend to your parents.

He, obviously, knew nothing about it. You knew that if you told him, he would freak out, and you wanted him to keep it together for the show and didn’t want him to get anxious for nothing. They already loved him from hearing stories you’ve told them about him.

Taking a glance at the screen of your phone, you saw bright numbers on it. 4:35 A.M.

They were supposed to land soon, so your tried your best to keep your eyes open.

“A glass of water would be great right now.” You thought to yourself, looking over to your side. Harry’s cheek was smushed into your side, and he kept subconsciously tightening his hold around you.

You carefully pulled your arm, which was squeezed between your warm bodies, and placed in on his back. Bringing your hand to his head, you started slowly playing with his curls, making sure not to accidentally wake him up.

“He seems fast asleep. If I get out slowly, he wouldn’t notice, right?” Debating, whether you should risk waking him up or just wait until he wakes up to get water, your dry mouth decides for you.

After grabbing a pillow that was laying next to your boyfriend, you started sliding out of his tight hold, gradually replacing your body with the pillow.

The bed creaked after losing contact with your body. Your eyes moved back to the bed, checking if your boyfriend noticed you missing.

As a little frown found its way on Harry’s face, wrinkles grazed the spot right between his eyebrows. You noticed his cheek being squished deeper into the pillow, and his hold around it tighten once again.

Standing by your bed in silence, you made sure to wait for a couple of minutes, to be certain that he was not woken up by you.

Turning around, taking a last glance at him peacefully cuddled in the pillows and blankets on the bed, you made your way out of your bedroom, down the stairs and into the kitchen to get yourself that long hoped-for glass of water.

Your tranquil walk back to the bedroom, now with a glass of water in your hand, was hindered by your phone ringing, echoing though the hall.

“Shit.” You muttered to yourself.

Running into the room, you hoped to be right on time to pick up the call before it wakes your previously peacefully sleeping boyfriend.

Unfortunately, you weren’t that lucky.

As you walked into your now-sunlit bedroom, the sight of your grumpy shirtless boyfriend caught your eye. He was holding your phone in one hand as it rang and rubbed the sleep out of his eye with the other.

“Mom’s callin’.” He managed to utter with a rasp in his voice.

Harry held out your phone to you, as his eyes grew heavy.

Taking your phone out of his hold, you picked up the call and heard your mom on the other side of the line.

“We landed, Y/N. Taking a taxi to your hotel in 10 minutes. People here are so nice.” She giggled in the end.

You would’ve too if you weren’t so exhausted from staying up all night to get a text from her. You started walking out of the room, to make sure Harry doesn’t hear her as well. Through your peripheral vision you could see the sleepy man fall back onto the pile of pillows.

“My poor baby.” You thought, as your mom went on about the flight and how excited she was to finally meet Harry.

“If he only knew.”

After your parents got on their taxi, they ended the call, telling you to get back in bed. To you it meant that you can finally cuddle your grumpy boyfriend.

Walking into your bedroom, you expected Harry to be sleeping. What surprised you was not only the fact that he was wide awake, but also the fact that he was standing by the window, looking outside.

“Baby, I’m so sorry for waking you up. Why don’t you go back to sleep?” Making your way to him, you watched as he slowly turned to face you. You walked right up to him and circled your arms around his waist. Positioning your chin on his chest, you looked up into his eyes. He lazily smiled down at you.

“Is mom okay? It’s quite early for her t’call, innit?”

He looked genuinely concerned, and suddenly you felt so guilty for keeping the truth away from him. It just seemed like the right thing to do in the moment.

“She’s okay, precious. Probably got confused in the time zones. We’re in a new place every week, after all.” You tried your best to brush it off. He seemed convinced.

“Oh, okay, lovey. ‘M glad she’s alright.”

You stood by the window for some time holding each other. Moments like these were the ones you longed for when he left touring with his debut album. They were the reason you were ready to study online, just to be by his side.

“He deserves to know.” You thought. He was going to meet them today anyways. “He won’t have time to get too nervous, right?” You kept debating on whether or not you should tell him the truth.

Your brows furrowed and your lips were pressed tight together. Harry took a look down at you, and his brows creased as well.

“What’s the matter with m’angel?” He gently cooed and moved closer to your face.

You were taken aback from your mental debates and smiled up at him.

“Nothing, nothing, baby. Everything’s okay.” You tried to quickly explain yourself. He didn’t seem convinced this time.

“Oh, come on. I know y’better than I know m’self. You’re in deep though, sweetie. Something’s botherin’ you. What is it?” He pushed your head into his chest and stroked your hair.

After being together for almost a year, Harry knew that you needed to be close to him to be able to speak your heart without feeling judged. So that’s exactly what he gave you.

“I won’t judge you. I promise, my love. Tell me what’s botherin’ you. Maybe I could help in some way?”

“God, I feel like a piece of shit. Why did I lie to him in the first place? He’s gonna be so mad.” Your mind swirled full of all the awful things that could happen after you told him you’ve been lying to him for two weeks. However, before your brain could stop you, your body made a sound.

“Parents.” You carefully start.

Harry focuses his eyes on you, to hear your soft voice.

“They’re here.”

Harry’s facial expression turns to a confused one. “Why are they here?” He thought.

“I wanted them to meet you.” You explain, as if reading his mind.

“What?” Harry is full-on shocked now, wondering why on Earth you hadn’t told him before.

You were afraid to let your eyes see him full of anger, so you pressed your face deeper into his naked chest.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Why am I finding out just now?” Harry wasn’t angry at you. He was just shocked and confused, but in your head you thought he was in a rage with you.

“I-I didn’t want you to worry for nothing. I knew yo-you’d get anxious about meeting them for no reason.”

“What do you mean ‘for no reason’? They’re your parents. What if they don’t like me? Then you’ll leave. I can’t fucking be without you, Y/N. How do you expect me to be calm about meeting your parents?” He was now getting frustrated at you for thinking that lying to him was an answer. He was frustrated, but even now he wouldn’t raise his voice at you. You made an agreement after your first fight to figure out your disagreements in a civil way. No yelling. No throwing shit. You weren’t kids having fits. You were two mature people figuring out their shit without getting aggressive about it. That’s what made you respect Harry so much. No matter how mad he was, he always kept himself together.

“That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you. You’d get anxious, when, in reality, they already love you. You’d get nervous for nothing. I wanted you to enjoy the tour without constantly worrying about meeting them.” You tried your best to get your point across, while still being pressed against his chest.

Harry didn’t say anything for a while, probably thinking it through. His hands found its way back into your hair and started playing with it.

“What if they won’t like me when they get to know me better?” You could feel the notes of insecurity and genuine fear in his voice. You finally ripped yourself from his body and took his face in your hands, making him look at you.

“They will only love you more, Harry. You’re the kindest, sweetest, the most loving and caring person I’ve ever met. You love me so dearly, and you always put me first. What else could they ask for in their daughter’s boyfriend?”

“Could you also add the fact that I fuck you well to the list?” Harry slowly spoke up, as his lips found their way to your neck. You were relieved to hear him joking. You laughed through a moan and pressed his head deeper into your neck.

“Do you? Sorry, I think you’ll have to freshen the memories for me to add it to the list.” You tease him, knowing exactly what follows.

Harry lets out a growl and picks you up immediately, swapping your places and pressing you against the wall.

“Let’s freshen the memories then.”

Throughout the whole day, while Harry was fidgeting around, getting ready for the concert, you were texting your mom, telling her exactly how and when to get into the concert hall.

Harry was now in his make-up chair getting his hair styled one last time. He looked at one particular spot through the mirror, while you stood next to him.

“Baby.” You mentally scolded yourself for telling him anything about parents coming to the show.

Harry kept staring at the spot, until you called out for him two more times, coming closer to his face with each time.

“Yes, love?” He asked in such a way, that made you look psychotic.

“Harry, you’re stressing out again, I’m not blind, okay?” You fold your arms and sit across his lap after the hair stylist leaves you two in the room alone.

His arms automatically find their way around your waist, just as your head does in the crook of his neck.

“You’re right. ‘M stressin’ out. Can’t help it. Want everything t’go well. It’s very important t’me. It’s our future, princess.” He spoke with such adoration that it made your heart flutter.

“They will love you. Wanna know why?” You asked.

“Why, angel?” He pressed a kiss on the crown of your head and breathed in the smell of your shampoo, closing his eyes in pleasure.

“Because I’ve never been happier.”

After sending Harry to the stage, you joined your parents in the balcony. Before doing so, you made sure to give him a good luck kiss and tell him that he shouldn’t feel like he has to act differently on stage. You gave him the old just-be-yourself speech and watched him walk onto the stage.

“Y/N, you’re finally here, we’ve missed you so much, love.”

Your mom hugged you, before letting your dad to do the same.

“Yes, dear. We took it for granted when you were back home. It’s so empty without you.” Dad kissed the top of your head and smiled at you.

“The music is so nice. Makes me want to dance.”

Your heart was full of pride in your boyfriend, who was now jamming to Golden on the stage.

Throughout the whole concert, your parents only shared a couple of words, fully mesmerized by the music playing and the young man dancing and jumping around the stage.

“What a wonderful young man that is.” Your mom said.

Your mind couldn’t find any other reason to why your mother referred to Harry as “a wonderful young man” other than the factthat she had no idea who on Earth was prancing around in front of them.

“With a great sense of humor, I must add.” Your dad mentioned.

You were so close to laughing out loud at their nescience.

When the concert was over, you made sure to text Harry straight away.

You: They love you.

Harry: It’s probably just because they know we’re already dating. They just don’t want to hurt your feelings.

You: Oh, trust me. They love you.

“Dear, the concert is over and Harry still hasn’t shown up. I know he’s a sweet boy, but it’s not polite to be so late to a meeting with your girlfriend’s parents.” Your father nagged, folding his arms.

“I have to agree with your dad.” Your mother seemed just as disappointed in your boyfriend.

“I’m sure he was busy.” You didn’t want to explain further, trying your best to keep a straight face on. It was extremely hard, especially when you were passing a huge sign with ‘HARRY STYLES: LOVE ON TOUR’ written across it.

Let’s just say, your parents’ faces were priceless when they saw you go up to the ‘wonderful young man’ they were gushing about and gave him a peck on the lips.

#harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles masterlist #harry styles blurbs

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wulfies-kpop-fanfics · 3 years

Text

One Photo → Mark Lee [1]

↳ Pairing: Mark Lee/Reader

↳ AU: Soulmate!AU - The first touch of two soulmates permanently scars their bodies.

↳ Word count: 4,863

↳ Chapters: Prelude | You Are Here! | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

⁙ Summary: For an end of the year photography project, you’re tasked with taking a photograph for your favourite group, NCT127, and coincidentally, discover your soulmate.

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MONDAY - 1

Your heart was pounding a million miles a minute as you stepped into your photoshoot studio on campus two weeks later, ready to see a bunch of other students preparing for interviews for the same position. Surprisingly, you were the only one present besides your teacher. She smiled and approached. “Hey,” she greeted you with a short handshake. “I see you’re nervous?” “A little,” you admit, returning her friendly grin. “I’m surprised nobody else is here.” She hummed. “Well, there was a lot to choose from. Come on. This one, I believe, is a little special compared to the others.” “How so?” Your voice was laced with curiosity as she led you further in, past the background sheets that separate the room into two halves. Behind it were people you had only dreamed of seeing in person.

The three of them stood as soon as they lay eyes on you. Johnny, Mark, and Jaehyun. You were completely frozen, staring at them and nearly forgetting to breathe. The thought of the members interviewing you themselves had never even entered your brain.

Your teacher placed a hand on your shoulder, startling you. Without a word, she smiled at you, nodded at them and left the room. Once the door shut with a soft click, Mark approached you. “Hi, I’m Mark Lee,” he held out his hand. “You probably knew that, considering your expression.” He laughed sweetly. You barely held out your hand with a shy nod, “I’m (Y/N).” Instead of going through with the handshake, Mark immediately moves in to engulf you in a friendly hug. “It’s nice to meet you,” you mumbled into the hug, barely processing that you were actually hugging Mark Lee and were in the same five-foot radius as three members of NCT. Johnny and Jaehyun also hugged you tightly, insisting that you join them at the table your teacher had set up for them.

“I thought I would be more prepared,” you admitted softly, digging into your backpack and pulling out your portfolio of projects and random photos you’ve taken. Mark takes it first to open and look through. “I’ve been a fan since your debut.”

Johnny smiled. “Then you’re just the person we’re looking for,” he said. He glances over at your portfolio, then back to you. “The truth is, we aren’t looking for a professional like a lot of others in this program. We bring our own from our company.” Your knit your eyebrows together in confusion. “Then why sign up? If, um, you don’t mind me asking.”

Jaehyun looked up from browsing your portfolio with Mark. “We were looking to take one photo.” He held up his index finger. “We wanted to have a friend that’s from around here to help us find the perfect spot, and photographers always know the best places.” Your eyes widened. A friend? Did he really just say that? “Just one photo?” You decided to ask, the whole prospect of clarifying what Jaehyun meant by ‘friend’ was a little too overwhelming.

The three of them nodded. “We want just one photo for our dorm. This stop is important to us, and we want this to stay away from social media. It’s just going to be for us. And for you, for your project, of course,” Mark explained. “We don’t want someone that is too professional and we don’t want a fansite to take it. It seemed to us that a friend would be the best choice.” He smiled gently at you. “We’ll provide you with a ticket and backstage pass, as well as paying you based on the program’s price for the photo to be touched up and framed.”

You tripped over your words. “Well, I… I don’t think I’m in a position to turn you down, but…” Johnny cocked his head to the side. “But..?”

You gulped and sheepishly avoided eye contact. “I can’t speak Korean,” you mumble, fiddling with your fingers. Mark smiled sweetly at you. “That’s okay. We’ll translate for you. So, what do you think? Would you like to spend a day with us before our show?”

You smiled, deciding to be a bit more daring. They did say, friend. “You’re asking that like there’s even a shred of a chance I’d say no.”

All three of them grin. “Thank you, I was hoping you would say yes,” Mark says. “Your portfolio is stunning.”

Your face goes red and you're barely conscious enough to stand with them as they prepare to leave. Johnny and Jaehyun hug you again, praising your work before taking their leave, but Mark doesn't join them.

“Our manager has your teacher's contact information, but I want to involve the company as little as possible… if it's not too sudden, could I please have your number?” Mark smiles sheepishly, offering his unlocked phone to you, open to a new contact page. It's as if he has no idea of the impact he has on his fans. Sometimes you forget that NCT is made up of normal humans, and the one standing in front of you is a year younger than you are.

“Of course,” you take it gently and add your contact info, taking a quick selfie to add as your little profile picture, all while Mark watches you searchingly. “Here you are,” you hand his phone back, hesitating on saying what you were thinking, “since you want to be friends, feel free to text me.”

Mark takes his phone back with a smile, sending you a quick smiley face to make sure the number was correct. The room is silent for a moment, your face feels as if it's on fire and Mark returns the stare you gave him when you walked in.

“Come on, Mark!” you hear Johnny’s voice from outside the classroom and you both turn toward it. You smile sheepishly.

“I shouldn't keep you, should I?” you ask, voice soft and a little embarrassed.

“No, but I wish I had more time. I'll text you, I promise,” he says, hugging you once more before leaving you alone and speechless.

You wondered if all fan interactions were like the one you just experienced. You were aware the members of NCT were known to be humble and kind, but they were much calmer and affectionate than you expected. The idea that you just saw Mark's smile in person made your own cheesy grin spread across your face as you packed up your portfolio.

After class, you headed back to your dorm, a skip in your step. Once you opened the door and stepped inside, you felt like you could collapse. Fatigue washed over you like a tidal wave, and you knew it was time for an afternoon nap. Rhiannon was still in her lab, so you could grab at least 20 minutes of shut-eye before she would come back and beg for you to make dinner. You set your bag down by the door with your shoes and set a course for your bed. As soon as you were able to slide underneath the covers and nearly drift to sleep, your phone vibrated.

You reach into your pocket, confused. Rhiannon was the only friend that had your number, and if she even thought about her phone in a lab, she would be kicked out. Once you unlock your phone, you finally remembered who else you gave your number to.

Mark: Hey!

You licked your lips as your chest twinged and filled with butterflies. You screamed internally for a few seconds, the moment hitting you a little harder than before. Mark Lee had your cell phone number and he was texting you first.

You: Hello, what’s up?

Mark replied almost immediately, which startled you a little bit. You turned over in your bed to get a little more comfortable.

Mark: We were just finishing up settling into our hotel rooms. I wanted to know how you're doing, are you in class? I hope I'm not interrupting anything

You: No, I got home a little while ago. I was gonna take a nap tbh

Mark: Oh! Sorry, I don't mean to take away sleep from a college student

You smiled a little bit. He was too sweet. As if your nap wasn't going to ruin your sleep schedule.

You: Its fine, if I had a nap I wouldn't be able to sleep tonight anyway

Mark: So you're free then?

Your eyebrows furrowed as you typed your response.

You: Uh yeah, why? Did you all want that picture now?

You put your phone down, a little overwhelmed. If they wanted it now, you wouldn't see them again until the concert, which wasn't until Friday. Perhaps you should have expected they wanted to do this as fast as possible, their Canadian and Chicago stops were planned with vacations in mind considering Johnny and Mark's heritage. When your phone buzzed again, you almost jumped to grab it.

Mark: Well no not yet. I was just wondering if you wanted to get coffee or something. Or tea if you prefer that

Your eyes widened.

You: Really?

Mark: Yeah. I dunno, I want to take the friend thing more serious than the guys. They just wanted to use that word so it was like an unspoken contract that you wouldn't post this everywhere y'know?

Your heart sank a little bit, but you could see how important privacy was. If you were in the same position, you would have done the same.

You: I understand… I'm still kind of a stranger though, are you sure?

Mark: That's why I'm asking. I don't want you to be. So, will you meet me?

You: There's a Tim Hortons on the first floor of M building near where you met me on campus, I can be there in 40 minutes

Mark: See you in 40 minutes then :)

As soon as you read that text, you tossed your comforter to the side and raced into the bathroom. You fix your hair and could barely decide whether to change your outfit or not. He did see you earlier today, would he think you were trying too hard if you changed?

“Keep it together, (Y/N),” you told yourself, patting your cheeks with your hands as you eyed your complexion in the mirror. “He just wants tea and coffee, nothing major.”

Just then, the front door opened. “Are you talking to yourself again?” Rhiannon called from the foyer.

“No,” you called back, clearly lying as you took one more scan of yourself in the mirror before leaving to greet your friend. “You’re back early. How was the lab?”

“Tiring,” she answered. “My bitch lab partner came in even earlier than usual to make sure I didn't have the chance to set up our station again.” She rolled her eyes and dropped her backpack next to yours.

“Yikes,” you reply, watching her wander into the kitchen. “Are you gonna tell your professor that she is trying to sabotage your grade?”

Rhiannon sighed. “I don't know if the following shitstorm would be worth it,” she says, plugging in the electric kettle. “I'm gonna make some tea, you want any?”

You shook your head, even though she probably couldn't see you from the wall separating the kitchen and foyer. “No thanks, I'm going out to Tim's in M building.”

Rhiannon took less than a second to appear in the archway to stare at you. “Why?” She questioned, squinting at you.

“Mark asked me to meet him for coffee.”

“Mark,” she repeated, crossing her arms. “I thought you hated Mark Davids.”

“Not that asshole,” you shot back. “Mark Lee.” You began to look for a pair of cuter shoes as Rhiannon’s eyes widened.

“You got the job?!” She exclaimed, her voice nearly reaching a squeal. "YOU MET MARK LEE? WITHOUT ME?!"

“Yeah,” you smile sheepishly, taken aback by her shouting. you picked out your favourite pair of shoes, red converse high tops. “He just seems like he wants to hang out right now though.”

“Oh my God,” her voice nearly lowered to a whisper. “Mark Lee just asked you out.”

You rolled your eyes. “He didn't ask me out, he just wants to talk,” you explain, pulling on your shoes to tie them.

“I dunno, he could be it,” she says, waltzing back into the kitchen. “You never know!”

You sigh. “See you later!”

“Tell him to get Haechan's number!”

After a 15-minute subway ride and a lot of hurried walking, you hauled open the pristine doors of M building, the newest addition to your college campus. Right before you was a little Tim Hortons with a tiny student’s lounge to accompany it. There was a little bit of a line to the micro cafe since night classes were starting up around now, but the student’s lounge was close to empty.

You took in a deep breath, fully stepping inside and beginning your search for Mark. It doesn’t take long to spot him, he’s sporting yellow hair and a white face mask, accompanied by two red Tim Hortons cups at a table in the corner of the lounge. It takes you a moment to fathom your position - about to meet someone you’ve been crushing on for months through a computer screen for coffee in a lounge at your college. On top of that- he’s already bought you something.

“Hi,” you meekly greet him, approaching the table. Mark looks up from his phone and his eyes immediately crease into the crescents of his beautiful smile.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” He pulls his mask off, “sit down, I, uh, got you some tea. You kind of struck me as that kind of person, so I hope I got it right.”

“Thank you, Mark. You really didn’t have to buy me anything…” You smile nervously, your face feeling hot and your heart beating a mile a minute. Mark seemed a little nervous, just like you. It was a sobering moment, taking the cup he pushed toward you and opening it to take a sip. Your eyes widened. Your tea was exactly the way you always order it, nearly to the grain of sugar.

Mark watches your expression, happy that you seemed to like your tea, “I wanted to treat you. I know how weird this must all seem for you, but for some reason, I feel like I know you.” He runs his hand through his hair, avoiding eye contact for a moment.

You look away from him as well. There's a moment of silence between you, the bustle of students slowly diminishing as the sun sets behind you.

“I, uh, can't really relate to you in that way,” you whisper after you worked up the courage to break the silence. “A lot of your life is on display.”

“You're right,” Mark agreed. “There are a few things I keep to myself, though,” he smiled cheerfully. “But what I mean is hard to explain.”

Curious, you nod toward him, “try me.”

“When I was standing in line, I was trying to figure out what to get you. I wanted to treat you since I asked you to come, and I kind of expected for you to say no since your professor said you had class today and-”

“Mark, it’s fine, stay focused.” you smile faintly at him and wait for him to continue, sipping your tea again.

He blushes and nods sheepishly. “When it was my turn, I got what I wanted and the second I thought about you, I recited medium steeped orange pekoe tea with two cream and one and a half sugar like I had been getting it for you for years.” He stops for a moment, presumably watching your stunned reaction.

Your breathing was feeling a little crooked, and you couldn't quite place what you were feeling. You tried to take in a deep breath, shaking your head when Mark began to look concerned.

“Sorry,” you apologize quickly. “I, uh, kind of know what you're talking about. This is all just a little; I don't know…”

“Overwhelming?” Mark finished, nodding his head. “I can't stop thinking about it.”

You tried to smile. “I guess you gave the bug to me,” you joke. “Want to get some air?”

“I'd like that.”

The two of you walked down a path that led off-campus, talking. It was as if the two of you had forgotten your positions in life; Mark a celebrity with his life on a pedestal and you just a fan that forgot how much you really knew about him.

You were rediscovering his cheerful nature, his loud and hearty laughter that was a whole-body endeavour, learning that he plays the guitar, his love of ice cream and sweet things. His favourite colour was blue, and he loved Christmas so much he already had a growing list of things to buy for his friends as gifts.

The sun was nearly hidden behind the hills of the park you wandered into, admiring the newly blossomed cherry trees. You were showing him a small bed of flowers decorated to look like a Canadian flag when Mark asked the dreaded personal question you had been hoping you would never have to answer again.

“How did your parents find out?” His tone was soft, curious. He didn't sound as invasive as others have been in the past, but the question still made you bite your lip to keep from frowning.

“A gang fight,” you answer, bitterly. “My dad punched my mom in the face so hard that day, she needed to go to the ER. It actually took three months for her to figure out why the print of my dad's fist hadn't faded from her cheek.”

Mark didn't speak for a moment. “Was that too much to ask?”

You looked up at him from the flower bed, smiling faintly. He looked good in the final evening glow. “I don't mind that much, but...”

“I'm sorry,” he said, tentatively placing a hand on the small of your back.

“It's okay,” you start, his sympathy nearly made you melt. The two of you begin walking again, Mark absently running his fingers over cherry petals as you both passed the trees. “I got out of it all pretty quickly. They fought when they were high, and that was almost all the time. Sometimes, I feel scared just thinking about how my life might end up. If any of it is all as real as everyone says it is.”

Mark stares at you, and there is sympathy radiating off of him. He looks like he wants to say something, but he stays quiet.

You hold back a frown and decide to break the silence. “Anyway, how about your parents?”

“A hug,” he answered, nodding, a smile returning to his face. “it's not the most common first touch in the world, but I hope I find mine the same way.”

“That does sound nice,” you agree softly.

“I've heard it's all up to fate and magic,” Mark says, charm in his voice. “I've always wanted to believe in that.”

“I'd like to believe in that. Makes life seem a little more bearable. I’ve just always been so cynical through my childhood, so much so that all of my hope for a fairytale ending faded a long time ago. I never really thought that anything good would come out of it. If the universe really wants me to find someone, I guess I can’t really do anything about it.”

Mark smiles, although you can tell he is hiding a smidge of disappointment. “I suppose that's one way to think about it,” he replies. “I just want to know someone so well that I don't have to think twice about it. Like knowing the exact way to cheer them up when they're sad. Like the perfect cup of tea or their favourite stuffed animal. I guess that takes a little bit of magic.”

You stop in your tracks, thinking about the perfect tea he had given you earlier.

“What's wrong?” Mark stops and turns around when he notices you're not keeping pace.

“Nothing,” you lie with a smile, watching Mark's scepticism through the darkness of night.

“Okay,” he says softly, looking up at the sky. “I guess it's late, huh?”

You join him in looking up. If the city wasn't always so lit up, this spot would be perfect for a shot of the starry night sky between the small canopy of cherry trees. “I guess it is.”

“How far away is your dorm? I can walk you,” he suggests, taking your hand. You're frozen, too stunned by the gesture to pull away.

“You don't have to,”

“But I want to,” Mark grins. “It's the one way I can make sure you get back safely.”

“You're too kind…” you pause for a moment. Mark is staring you down, waiting for you to say yes. “I'm not allowed to say no, am I?”

He shook his head, smiling. “Nope. Come on, let's go.”

Scoffing lightly, you concede and begin walking again. “You can take me to my subway stop and I can tell you which train to take to go back,” you offer, assuming he would need to be back at his hotel before it got too late at night.

“No,” he said quickly. Your eyes widened at his tone and once he noticed your reaction, he lowered his voice. “I just… have these gut feelings. I'd like to escort you right to your dorm,” he clears his throat, “um, if I'm not crossing any lines.”

You feel sympathy for him. Just looking at Mark, you can tell he's worried about you, but you can't quite see the reason. “Okay,” you agree softly.

It's silent for a while as you both walk through the well-lit city. It's not until you pass a food truck on the way to the subway station that either of you says something again.

“You know, you and I walked around that park for hours and we didn't even know how late it was until the last minute,” Mark comments, still holding your hand and pulling back gently to keep you from walking past him.

“Yeah, you're right,” you blush, you had to admit to yourself that you hadn't lost yourself in conversation or such comfortable silence like that even on a date. "We forgot to eat. Are you hungry?”

“Yeah,” Mark admits with a laugh, “and these hot dogs smell good.”

You look up at him. “I'll buy.” You wriggle your hand out of his grasp and run toward the cart before Mark can catch you, readying your wallet.

“Two hot dogs please, one with relish and one plain, please. Also, burn the plain one a little bit, thanks.”

“You're slippery,” Mark says, watching you pay for the food.

“You bought me tea, it's only fair,” you stick your tongue out at him. He sighs and nods at you, only breaking his gaze when the man at the cart hands down the hot dogs a few moments later. “The one with relish is yours. You hate ketchup, right?”

Mark takes his hot dog, eyes wide. “Uh, yeah,” he pauses. “I just haven't really told anyone outside the guys and my family.”

You're halfway through a bite of your ‘dog and you nearly choke on it.

“Hey, hey!” Mark reaches out for your shoulder, hoping that you wouldn't pass out. “Chew and swallow! Sorry, I didn't mean to freak you out.”

You swallow and cough, shaking your head. “Don't worry, I'm fine,” you say. “This is just a weird feeling.”

He nods. “Yeah. But I don't really mind it. Come on, let's walk some more.”

It was totally surreal to you, walking and eating with Mark. He was right, there was this strange feeling washing over you every time you looked at him, different than watching him on a Vlive broadcast or music video. Like you knew something about him that nobody else did, and it made you feel both good and scared out of your mind. It felt invasive.

One subway stop and a little bit of a walk later, you both arrive at your dorm building. “Here we are,” you announce. “My roommate is probably going to kill me for coming back so late.”

“Should I go in with you? To protect you?” Mark is smiling, but you can tell there is a hint of seriousness.

“If you want. She will probably ask for something from you, though.” You open the main doors and enter in your code, leading Mark in with you.

“Like what?” Mark furrows his eyebrows. “She's not weird, right?”

You nearly laugh out loud. “She's weird all right, just not the kind you're thinking of. She wanted me to get Haechan's number from you, but I got so absorbed in talking with you that I forgot to ask.”

“Oh,” Mark is following you close behind, letting out a tiny sigh of relief. “That doesn't sound too bad, but his reaction should be interesting.”

You shrugged. “You don't have to do it. Anyway-” You're cut off as the door to your apartment opens, Rhiannon stepping out and pressing her hands to her hips.

“Look who's finally back,” she states, and you can immediately tell she is angry. “It's almost 1 AM!”

“Shh! I'm sorry, okay? I lost track of time! I was with-”

“Mark,” she says, her voice less harsh when she notices Mark is standing behind you, sheepishly smiling and waving at her. “At least you had the initiative to walk her home.”

You squint at your best friend. It's clear she is trying not to freak out in front of him. “Are you gonna let me inside?”

“Not yet,” she states. “Mark, I love you,” she says quickly, grabbing your arm and pulling you to her. You're smiling awkwardly at him, shrugging and mouthing ‘sorry’.

Mark smiles awkwardly and nods at you. “Uh, thanks,”

“Thank you for bringing (Y/N) back. Has she asked you about Haechan?”

“Yeah. I'll text you guys his number when I get back- which I probably should…”

You step forward. “Do you know how to get back?”

Mark shakes his head. “I think it's on Yorkville, I might have to use my GPS.”

You shake your head. “It's easy to get there. Head to the station you and I were just on, take the southbound for 5 stops. Once you get above ground, you should be on that street.”

Mark smiled at you. “Thank you.” He approached you to give you a hug, which felt warmer than the other two from earlier in the day. When he turned to leave, a pang hit your chest.

“Mark,” you called. Instantly he turned around, his expression curious. “Let me know when you get back safely.”

He nodded, smiling warmly. “I will, I promise.”

You watch him leave, a little shocked that spending the entire night with him didn't feel like it at all. You're only broken out of your thoughts when Rhiannon drags you inside your apartment and shuts the door.

“You scared me half to death, you bitch! At least text me when you're gonna stay out this late! I thought you were just having tea! I was this close to calling the cops!” She presses her index finger to her thumb and shoves her hand towards your face as you stand before her, a little humiliated.

“Your fingers are touching,” you say quietly, screwing your eyes shut.

“Exactly!” she exclaims. “I was one button away from speaking to 911! You're goddamn lucky I heard you and Mark coming down the hall!” You open your eyes when she gently touches your arm. “Don't scare me like that.”

“I'm sorry. I promise I'll keep in touch next time.” You smile awkwardly at her. “I was just so caught up in talking and trying to make sure it wasn't a dream.”

Rhiannon nodded and returned your smile. “I know. You should go to bed, you have class in the morning.”

“Yeah. Thanks for worrying about me.”

Once you were in fresh pyjamas, you had some music on in the bathroom while you dry your hair with a towel. A quick shower before bed always was relaxing enough for you to fall asleep quickly. Snuggling up in bed after that long day was especially nice, gathering up your teddy bear to hug close. You're just about to drift off when your phone buzzes.

Mark: Hey, I'm back safe. Thank you for the directions

You: You're welcome

I had a really nice time tonight

Mark: Me too

You have class tomorrow right

You: Yeah, it's a short day though, just a small photoshop lab

Mark: Do you want to hang out again when you're done? By the way, the number I promised - __________

You: I'd like that. Thanks, I'll forward it to her

Haechan was cool with it right

Mark: Me too :) yeah he was cool with it, he owed me a favour anyway

Sleep well ok?

You: I will, you too?

Mark: Yeah I promise

Goodnight (Y/N)

You: Goodnight :)

After putting your phone down on your nightstand, you peacefully drifted off with a smile on your face.

#mark lee #mark lee x reader #mark x reader #nct #nct127 #nct scenarios #nct imagines #reader insert #fanfiction #nctu #kpop fanfictions #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines

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chaoticpuff17 · 4 years

Text

Suga, We’re Going Down

part 2

masterlist

Yoongi had grown up on the streets of Daegu. His father had abandoned his mother before he was even born. It was a struggle to survive, but he’d always been drawn to music. He’d bartered for piano lessons from a local music store in exchange for free labor knowing his mother, who was struggling to raise him on her own, wouldn’t be able to afford them. They had a restaurant to keep afloat, just like Y/N’s family.

In time, he’d moved on from piano turning to rap. He loved to create, to pour his soul into his music. He established himself in the world of underground rap, and from there he’d clawed his way up to the top. Driven by a need to create, a need to be the best, the need to provide for his family. His mother had never been particularly supportive of his career path. She wanted a stable life for him, and music wasn’t what she considered stable. But here he was, the king of rap. He was on top of the world.

When the fire that had driven him his whole career began to fizzle, he was understandably frustrated. But then there was her. She relit that flame. He had been enthralled almost giddy when he was brought all the information his bodyguard had dug up on her. He looked through pictures of her playing the cello, watched recordings of her previous performances. With every piece of information he learned, he felt closer to her. She was from a broken home balancing work and school to help support herself and her grandmother not to mention the father that hung around the family’s neck like a dead weight. He’d sunk the family into debt. There was no mother to speak of. She hadn’t had an easy life, but neither had he. They were the same that way, kindred spirits.

Knowing that Y/N had come from a troubled family made him feel closer to her, protective of her. She was an angel, and he wanted to take her away from it all, away from the miserable life she’d been forced to live. To say he was furious when he had been delivered the news of her new occupation would be an understatement. His bodyguard had paled looking at his phone after it chimed, and then explaining that he’d just gotten new piece of information on her. She was planning to become a sugar baby. She had just made a profile on some app called sugarbebe. He knew the showcase was her last concert, but he thought it was because she was working, not this kind of work. She was giving up music, and she’s was placing herself into the hands of some disgusting old man in the name of supporting her family. It was a sentiment he could admire, but he couldn’t allow his muse to be in the hands of some disgusting pervert. He couldn’t allow her to give up music. He needed to protect her.

So he’d concocted a spur of the moment plan. He would be her sugar daddy. It would keep her by his side, keep the passion to create flowing, and it would keep her out of harms way. It was perfect. He got her, and she got to help her family.

As soon as he had her profile on sugarbebe, he’d sent a message requesting to meet her, and then it was a waiting game. Would she be willing to meet him? Would she accept his proposal? If she didn’t he’d just have to make it an offer she couldn’t refuse. If she was willing to do this in addition to working two jobs and school, how could she refuse? He had every intention of being everything she needed. He would make it so that she didn’t need to work two jobs, so that she could keep playing the cello.

He’d been ecstatic when he’d gotten the message saying she would meet with him. He could barely contain his excitement. Friday couldn’t come soon enough.

Friday came all too soon. Classes flew by, and she had picked up Eun Jae from Halmeoni’s for the weekend. It would have been a normal day if not for the meeting looming over her head. Every hour brought her closer to her meeting with MYG. He’d assured her that she would be allowed into the club and that she would be perfectly okay, but that didn’t do anything to calm her nerves. She didn’t even know what the man looked like, but at the very least she knew he wasn’t twice her age. Twenty-seven wasn’t too bad of an age gap, but it also brought about the question, why did someone so young need a sugar baby especially when they could afford to go to D-2?

Nina prodded and poked at her until she could barely recognize herself. The dress was tight against her body leaving very little to the imagination even though it didn’t expose her breasts and it covered her ass. But she had to admit, even begrudgingly, that it made her look good. It might not be as fancy as what the other girls in the club would be wearing, but at least she wouldn’t stick out. The dress was perfect. The earrings Nina had leant went well with it as well. They dangled down from her ears, and the sparkly black material would make them shimmer under the lights in the club. To make herself a little more comfortable in the outfit, she’d added a pair of semi-opaque black tights. The real problem was the heels. She wasn’t used to wearing heels that tall, and she was worried that she was going to break an ankle if she wasn’t careful. How Nina walked in them she would never know.

With one final look in the mirror she left the bathroom to find Eun Jae and Nina sitting in the one only other room in the apartment.

“What do you think?” She asked striking a silly pose to the delight of the little boy. “Eomma!” He shrieked running to attach himself to her legs. “You look bootful.”

“Thank you, baby.” She smiled crouching down so that she was on eye level with him. “Are you going to be good for Auntie Nina?” He nodded his head rapidly though his little face had a much more serious expression now. “You promise?”

“Pwomise.”

She held out her pinky linking it with his much smaller one before pulling him into a hug and showering him with kisses as he struggled to get out of her arms despite the peals of laughter that left him.

“I love you, buddy.” She cooed pressing her forehead against his before scooping him up in her arms and standing to face Nina. “It’s already past bedtime so…”

“Eomma.” The little boy whined pouting at the reminder that he should already be asleep.

“Bed time.” She told him sternly bouncing him slightly in her arms. If he didn’t get to bed soon, she’d have a very cranky toddler on her hands tomorrow. “He should go right down. His blankie and bambam the dinosaur are on the couch. He won’t go to sleep without the dinosaur.”

“I know.” Nina rolled her eyes fondly. “This isn’t my first rodeo.

“You know you’re welcome to anything in the fridge. You can use my laptop. I’ll text you when I get there.”

“You better.” Nina grumbled shooting her friend a playful glare. “Text me when you’re leaving too.”

“Of course.” She promised handing over her son with one last hug. “Thank you for doing this.”

Nina nodded accepting the little boy into her arms settling him on her hip even though his face was all scrunched up grumpily now that he was no longer in his mother’s arms. “Of course. I’m always happy to help. Be safe okay?”

“I will be.”

“Eomma!” Eun Jae whimpered reaching out for his mother upper lip wobbling and eyes round as saucers. It was all fun and games until it was time for mom to go, especially when it was near bedtime.

“I gotta go, baby.” She told him though it broke her heart to see him upset. She knew he was just tired, but it still broke her heart. “I’ll see you in the morning. Okay, buddy?” She gave Nina a pained smile before picking up her clutch that only fit her keys, her card and her phone. “I’ll see you later!”

“Stay sexy. Don’t get murdered!” Nina called after her as she left the apartment rolling her eyes at her friend’s antics.

It pained her to splurge on the taxi to go to the club, and she knew it was silly, but she didn’t want MYG to see her coming from a bus stop on the off chance he was watching her when she arrived. She would take the late bus home, but she wanted to make a good impression arriving, just in case.

She was practically vibrating in anticipation the entire ride to D-2. She didn’t know what to expect from this. Would he be nice? Would he be sleazy? God, she hoped he wasn’t sleazy. She could put up with it, if he was, and she knew it was a long shot that he would be kind, but she still hoped that he was. It would make this so much easier if he was kind.

She couldn’t help the nerves. She had never done anything like this before. She’d never even considered doing anything like this before. Clubs, boyfriends, partying. She’d never gotten to do any of that stuff. She had had a family to take care of. By the time she’d reached the age where she could go out drinking, she’d had a kid to consider. She didn’t think she’d ever actually been to a club before. Tonight would be full of new experiences.

She was shocked when she arrived at D-2 that the bouncers were expecting her. One of the burly, intimidating men escorted her straight into the club and directly up to the VIP lounge stating that a Mr. Min would be with her shortly.

All she could do was nod her head mutely. She was dumb struck by the turn of events. She had thought that whoever she was meeting was rich, but she hadn’t expected to them to be VIP rich or so concerned with her making it in. Who had the kind of pull it took to get the bouncers to care for a patron like that. The man had even stated that if she needed anything, she just needed to ask which led her to believe that the rest of the staff knew who she was as well. It was highly disconcerting. Every moment she was inside the club made her more and more nervous. She had to keep reminding herself who she was doing this for, what was at stake. At least she knew his name now. Mr. Min.

She took a deep breath to steady herself. Waiting for her potential sugar daddy to arrive. The title made her cringe, a stark reminder of the position she was now in.

While Y/N was nearly sick with nerves, Yoongi was ecstatic. He watched as his bouncers led her into his club. She looked lovely. She always looked lovely, but she looked different than the photos of her he had seen, different than the demure lady he had seen at the showcase. While her outfit said, sexy, her face said nerves. Even there sitting under the lights of the club, she looked like an angel. The wide eyed way she watched everything made it clear she didn’t belong there. She was like a deer in the headlights. But Yoongi could fix that. He could help her adjust. She was meant to be in his world.

He took a moment to straighten out his shirt and smooth down his hair before approaching her. He wanted everything to be perfect.

“Kang Y/N.” He called stepping up to her watching in amusement as she practically jumped out of her seat out of shock as her eyes flew to his.

“Mr. Min.” She squeaked actually jumping up and stumbling it a bit in her heels, but Yoongi was there to catch her, gently lowering her back down to the couch again.

“You can call me Yoongi.” He flashed her a crooked grin, not quite a full smile, but enough of one to soften his intimidating features. He’d been told on more than one occasion that he had a resting face that looked like he wanted to kill everyone, and he didn’t want her to be scared of him. The wide eyed way she was staring at him told him it wasn’t working though.

She stared at the man next to her taking in all of his features. He certainly wasn’t old, and he certainly wasn’t ugly. He was pale, like he had never seen the sun before. The black shirt he wore highlighted that, but it worked for him. His dark eyes had an almost feline quality to them. They were intimidating as they took her in just as she was doing to him. She wanted to fade away and hide from those eyes. They were black as coal and far too intense for comfort, and it was with horror that she realized, she knew those eyes.

“You’re Agust D.” She breathed out her voice trembling in both shock and awe.

He grinned, a full gummy smile that looked so out of place on his intimidating face but at the same time so right. “I am, but you, Y/N, can call me Yoongi.”

“I…I think there’s been a mistake.” Her eyes darted around trying to find her clutch snatching it up when she found it and standing on shaking legs. Bobbing a hasty bow she tried to make a retreat only for her wrist to be caught in his hand, his long fingers completely encircling her wrist. Her eyes flew to his, wide, startled. “Mr. Min?”

“There’s no mistake.” His raspy voice sent shivers down her spine. It wasn’t every day that a girl met the king of rap. It wasn’t every day that the king of rap brought you to his club wanting to be your sugar daddy. It couldn’t be real.

She shook her head trying to wake herself up, to bring herself back to reality, but he was still sitting there staring at her with those dark eyes.

“Why don’t we go to my office to talk? Would that be better?” He offered, and she nodded dumbly in response letting him lead her away from the noise to an office nestled in the back of the club.

The door closed sealing them in, blocking out the noise. She couldn’t believe it. Yoongi thought it was adorable. The confused look on her face, the little line between her brows, it was all adorable.

“You’re MYG?” She slowly asked trying to confirm the impossible thing that was being proposed. There was no way that Agust D was looking for a sugar baby let alone looking for her to be his sugar baby. It was too absurd.

“Min Yoongi.” He confirmed taking a seat behind his desk as she took a seat across from him. “I’m sorry for the confusion. I needed a certain amount of anonymity on the app. You understand right?”

“Of course.” She quickly agreed frightened of making the wrong move. She had no idea what to do in this situation. There wasn’t exactly a handbook, ‘What to do when your potential sugar daddy turns out to be famous?’. She felt completely out of her depth. “That’s understandable.” She smiled nervously avoiding eye contact. “Can I… can I ask a question?” It was tentatively spoken, nervous like she was afraid he was going to bite her.

Yoongi had to hold back a coo. She was just so fucking adorable, so innocent sitting there trembling under his gaze like a kitten someone had brought in from the cold. “Ask away, princess.”

She had to hold back a cringe at the endearment. She was by no means a princess. “Why me?”

“Why not you?” He countered leaning across the desk. “Are you going to say no?”

Did she really have a choice? She needed the money. Her family needed the money. “I didn’t say that.”

He smirked knowing full well she couldn’t refuse him. She needed this. She needed him, and he wasn’t going to leave her out in the cold. “Four million won.” He offered watching as her eyes widened almost comically. They practically took up the whole of her face.

“What?” She whispered.

“Four million won for every meeting we have.” He offered watching her closely. She looked ready to bolt at any moment. He couldn’t have that, not when he was so close to having her in his arms.

“That’s… that’s very generous, but I…”

“But what? Is it not enough?” His head tilted to the side curiously.

“No! It’s more than enough, more than generous.” She stuttered rushing over her words in an attempt not to fuck this up.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“Mr. Min.”

“Yoongi.”

“Yoongi.” She corrected smiling nervously. “I’m not sure I’m what you’re looking for. I have work and school…”

He cut her off waving a hand dismissively. “We can work around that. I have a very busy schedule. I would want you to be free in the evenings at least twice a week.” She nodded slowly waiting for him to continue. “I’d have the right to call for you whenever I want, but you have the right to say no. I understand you have other obligations. School. Work.” He would give her the option, but under the circumstances she was in, he didn’t think she’d say no. She couldn’t afford to say no.

“What if I had to cancel a prearranged meeting?”

“We’d reschedule” He shrugged hiding his glee at seeing her warm up to the idea.

She hesitated taking a deep breath to steady herself. “What would… what would you expect from me?”

There it was, the crux of it all. He was slowly backing her into a corner, herding her towards agreement. “Your company. Your affection.” She shuddered as his eyes dragged down the length of her body. “We won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with. You have full control. We can have it written into the contract.” A lie. Yoongi wasn’t the type to give control to anyone else. But he could give her the illusion of control. “Four million won a meeting. More for overnight or late night meetings and public outings like parties or company events. I’ll provide the wardrobe for those.” He offered sweetening the deal. He knew it was a lot of money, but she was worth it. She was worth every penny.

He could see the conflict in her eyes, but he knew he had her. She knew it to. With how much he was offering she could get their heads back above water. They could fix the heating at the house. They could get a new winter coat for Eun Jae. He was outgrowing his. She could get him some new shoes too. She could pay for school. They could pay off the debt her father had landed them in. Halmeoni wouldn’t have to work so hard. “Okay.”

He grinned in triumph. “Okay.” He leaned back in his chair. “I’ll have the company draw up a contract. I can have it ready by Monday. That work for you?”

She nodded eyes fixed on her hands. “Yeah. That’s fine.” She whispered huffing in disbelief.

Yoongi stood up slinking over to her tilting her chin up to make her eyes meet his. He loved her eyes. They were so deep, so soulful. “Hey,” He murmured gently running a thumb over her bottom lip. “Don’t look so frightened. I’ll take good care of you.”

part 3

#bts #bts fic #yandere bts #bts suga #bts yoongi #min yoongi #rapper yoongi #bts fanfic #yandere yoongi #yoongi x reader #suga #yandere #yandere suga #suga x reader #agust d #dark romance

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coffeestainsandcashmere · 3 years

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Let No Man Steal Your Thyme - (older Dramione) Chapter Six

Thank you for your patience with this one, folks. Here it is. All 7k words of it... Thank you too for the beautiful anonymous (and otherwise) owls you’ve sent me! I can’t tell you how lovely that’s been!

If this were on AO3 (which it will be when it’s complete), the rating would have gone up to “E - Explicit”, so please make sure you’re the appropriate age to consume it (18+).

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

___

Hermione apparated into an unassuming and rather ugly back street in Whitechapel and took a moment to straighten herself out afterwards. A fine, sheeting mizzle had begun sometime around midday, shrouding the whole of London in a choking, miserable haze, and it hadn’t let up since. It was nothing a subtle impervius charm couldn’t ward off, of course, though it sent Muggles scuttling for shelter or huddling beneath umbrellas in a way that never failed to make her heart twinge just a little for a life that was long behind her.

Miraculously, her hair behaved itself despite the humidity, and had complied with both will and wand so that it now fell in loose ringlets around her shoulders. It was all held in place with more charm-work than she’d done on herself in a very long time, but even she had to admit that she’d done a pretty decent job of it. Pansy would be proud. She just hoped the dress would do its job too and flatter her in the way Theo and Pansy had both promised it would when she’d bought it.

As her heels clicked along on the uneven pavement, she wished there was a charm to ward of self-consciousness. After years of scruffy jeans and soft, woollen jumpers, the dress seemed rather snug around the areas she’d grown a little shy about, but she drew on the well of experience from her Ministry days, squared her shoulders, and set off towards the address Draco had sent her by owl.

Rounding the corner, she nearly stumbled in her heels as she drew up suddenly short. Standing with arms folded, shoulder blades pressed heedlessly against the masonry of the building behind him and his whole body tense as a piano string, stood Draco Malfoy, scowling. Whereas she had forgone a bulky cloak in favour of a warming charm, he cut quite the figure in the heavy, black garment, fastened at the throat with a silver clasp that seemed to match his hair.

As her heels announced her approach, he looked up, looked away, did a double take, and then levered himself off the wall with a slightly slack-jawed expression.

Theo was right, she smiled to herself. I probably owe him a drink now or something.

When she came to a halt in front of Malfoy, she couldn't help the way her lips twitched. He looked a little like he’d been slapped. “Evening,” she chirped, and watched his throat work as he swallowed thickly, pupils blown wide in the dark.

“Granger,” he said. “You… You look…” He floundered, and then to her immense surprise and absolute delight, his cheeks flushed a deep, vivid pink and he looked away.

“Likewise,” she laughed, ostentatiously eyeing him up and down, though the cloak revealed little. “Though that was pretty much a given.”

“I didn’t mean —” he began, snapping his gaze back to her face with his grey eyes wide. “You just…” Then he laughed and forcibly relaxed his shoulders, exhaling through his nose. “I should have known you’d leave me a babbling idiot again,” he muttered, subtly offering her the crook of his elbow. “It’s like third year all over again.”

“Third year?” she said as she accepted and slid her fingers under his arm. “I punched you in the face in third year.”

“Mmm,” he said. “And I don’t think I ever truly got over it.”

She laughed and he relaxed a little more beneath her touch. “So I’ve never actually heard of this place, but Theo said you have to know the owner just to get a table…?”

“Yes,” Draco said. “I hope you don’t think it’s too much, but after everyone was staring at us in the Leaky, I thought it might be nice to go somewhere where people have a bit more… discretion… My mother’s side of the family has been friends with the owner’s for generations.”

“I’m sure it’ll be perfect,” she said as he steered her towards a blind arcade of sandy-coloured bricks that flanked a large stretch of the street.

“It’s concealed with an enchantment like the one at Kings Cross,” he said as they approached the third one in the row. Glancing up and down the street, he stepped halfway into the wall and held his hand out for her to take, as if she were a lady about to alight into a carriage. He clearly saw her burning with interest about the spellwork and added, “Some scholars believe it was the first instance of the charm’s use in London.”

She beamed at him, took his hand, and allowed him to steer her through the wall.

When they emerged on the other side of the illusion, she found herself in a cosy, dark-tiled entrance hall, illuminated with tiny lumos charms. A waiter in smart, black and white livery appeared almost immediately from the main restaurant beyond, and bowed politely. “Lord Black,” he said and then turned to her and offered a seemingly genuine smile. “Ms. Granger. If you’d like to follow me please. My lord, may I take your cloak?”

Malfoy unclasped it and handed it to the man, but Hermione wasn’t watching that. She was too busy staring at the way he looked in his suit beneath.

Draco Malfoy had always been a creature of harsh lines and a cool palette, but this time the sight of him actually robbed her of breath. Though his outfit was understatedly simple, the slate-blue suit, with a crisp white shirt and a silvery tie had clearly been made bespoke for him, and it fitted him to perfection, emphasising slim hips, long, lean legs, and a breadth to his shoulders that spoke of strength without raw bulk. The only hint of colour to him lay in the residual flush from the cold in his pale cheeks, but his eyes sparkled warmly enough.

“Shall we?” he murmured, a hint of shy embarrassment to the corners of his mouth that she’d rarely seen in his youth, and she nodded, still mute. She wasn’t sure if he was shy about the waiter’s ‘my lord’ or the way she was gawking at him like a teenage fan at a Weird Sisters concert.

He ushered her in front of him, and she followed the waiter through the restaurant.

All the while they walked, she was intensely aware of Draco behind her.

Naturally, once she’d got past all the initial ‘oh my god is my skirt tucked up into my knickers’ panic, she tried a little experiment and began to sway her hips a little more than usual. Pansy had once told her she had the walk of a ‘dowdy headmistress charging down a corridor towards the sound of troublemakers’. Even if she’d said it in jest, it hadn’t exactly inspired confidence in her ability to sashay sexily through the tables in front of someone she was hoping to impress, but by the time they were settling into her seats, she noted a very slight rise in the colour in Draco’s cheeks again, and chalked it up as a victory regardless.

“Can I get you some drinks while you wait? I’m sure you’re both aware that the restaurant is chef’s choice though.” He did not offer any kind of drinks menu, however, and Hermione’s already fragile courage sputtered.

Draco nodded curtly at the waiter, and then looked expectantly at Hermione, who cleared her throat and said, “Look, Draco, I’m already a tad out of my depth here. I think I’ll leave the decision-making to you tonight and save us both the embarrassment…”

His lips parted slightly, as if he were going to speak, but a soft look crossed his face before he inclined his head. “Wine alright?” he asked and she nodded.

He ordered two glasses of a white he’d never heard of.

Before the waiter left, he enquired about any allergies, and when both replied that they were fortunate enough not to have any, he retreated, and Hermione blew out a soft breath.

“It’s not too much, is it?” Draco asked, shoulders high and tense again. All the recent colour had drained from him, and he looked faintly nauseous.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, gazing around at the vaulted room. “And this is a real treat, Draco. I’m really glad you asked me, though I promised your owl I’d have words with you about her manners. Damn near lost a finger to that beak of hers.”

“Apologies,” he said, voice a little hoarse. “She was a gift from my mother after my own owl was lost after the Battle of Hogwarts. She’s been a menace to me and my unfortunate correspondents ever since.”

Hermione’s eyes widened. The bird was much older than she’d expected, but then again she shouldn’t have been that surprised; the Weasley’s had had Errol seemingly for generations after all before he’d finally snuffed it.

She hadn’t really taken note of the other patrons of the restaurant on their short journey through the tables to the secluded alcove, but now she glanced around again and saw that the place was full, though there couldn’t have been more than fifteen covers. The other diners were not witches or wizards she recognised, and no one seemed to be paying anyone else the slightest bit of attention, to her relief.

Relaxing a little, she looked back at Draco who sat with his hands folded neatly atop the dark wood of the table, his silver signet ring glinting softly in the light of the little candle between them. His gaze was intense, and his expression a little awkward. He was as nervous as she was, she realised. Maybe more.

He pursed his lips briefly and then said, “It’s quite different from a lot of the restaurants in Diagon Alley, largely because of the building’s history, I think.” He stopped, as if worried he was about to bore her and instead blurted quietly, “I’m glad you like it.”

The place had clearly once been an enormous foundry building, but since being repurposed, it had been divided up from one open casting hall into cosy little niches and alcoves of sandstone brick, with large, industrial panes of glass filling the spaces between the dividing arches. It felt private without being claustrophobic; atmospheric but not dingy or oppressive.

Taking another breath, Hermione smiled at him and admitted, “It’s been so long since I’ve been out for dinner with anyone, Draco. It’s almost embarrassing really. And Theo doesn’t count in this context,” she added with a flash of her eyes.

“Likewise,” he muttered, carefully pouring her a glass of water from the carafe between them before filling his own.

Again, she noted his hands. Somehow they were simultaneously the elegant hands of a nobleman and the rough, scarred hands of a man who used them for a living — spotted and flecked with innumerable small scars — and she found herself instantly fascinated by the story they held. The last person she could recall with hands in that condition was Professor Snape.

She nearly said that Draco at least had good reason for not going on dates with every witch in Britain, being a widower, but she bit it back and said, “Well, that should make things easier for both of us. Tell me though, I’m dying to know why you had to go to France at such short notice. Your letter was too cryptic.”

Draco’s face softened and he sipped his water. “We have estates there still,” he said, not meeting her gaze. “One of the wards was triggered, so I arranged a portkey to check up on it, but it was nothing in the end.”

“Nothing? Come on; it usually takes magic to trip a ward, Malfoy. There has to be some story there…?”

His eyelashes looked like strands of silk in the candlelight, pale and silvery as they framed his grey eyes, and she almost forgot to listen to his story as he flicked his gaze back up to meet hers again.

“It really isn’t very interesting. One of our tenants has an elderly mother and she is unfortunately not as… compos mentis as she once was. She used to work as a maid for my maternal great-grandmother. It turned out that she had wandered up to the main house in the middle of the night, spoken some long-forgotten spell to gain admission, and had tried to prepare breakfast. Of course, there was nothing in the larder, so she became distressed. Her daughter collected her and sealed the house up again, but the owl didn’t reach me before I left England.”

“I see,” she said. “Another case where modern Muggle communication methods might have come in handy,” she chirped under her breath, and he hummed softly in agreement, though he didn’t seem to understand fully. And then because she was a nose bugger who couldn’t help herself, she asked, “Do you have a lot of properties then? Other than the house in Wiltshire?”

She caught the smile in his eyes and he nodded. “One or two,” he said with bashful modesty. “A number of my father’s holdings and inheritances were confiscated by the Ministry in reparation for war crimes, but my mother was allowed to keep much of what was hers and, by extension, mine.”

“And those are in France?”

He shook his head, and with regret she watched him becoming increasingly uncomfortable. “There’s a place in Scotland - not far from Hogwarts, actually - and one in the arse-end of nowhere in rural Romania. It’s the Malfoy side that has the connections to France, though that one I just mentioned is the only one left to us now.”

“I see. I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to pry. I was genuinely curious, that’s all.”

“It’s fine,” he said. “You can ask me whatever you like.”

She smiled and said, “I didn’t even get to inherit my parents’ little house in Surrey because of a complication with the will, so it’s all a world away from what I know… Has Scorpius been to these other places?”

“Not really,” he said, “Though mother and I took him to the vineyard in France last summer before school started.”

Hermione tipped her head back, exposing her neck a little, and smiled. “My parents used to take me to France during the summer holidays,” she said dreamily. “Little stone cottages that smelled of lavender, with long, dusty driveways and rooms that stayed chilly no matter temperature outside. Sometimes when it got really hot, those adorable little lizards used to come out and bask in the sun on the wall. My parents were dentists, so we weren’t exactly all that short of money growing up —” nothing like you though, she wanted to add but didn’t “— and they always tried to choose a place with a swimming pool. I used to love to swim.”

Draco’s expression was unreadable, but there was a light in his silver eyes that shone like a full moon. He swallowed thickly and had been on the point of speaking when the waiter returned with their wine and a small amuse-bouche for them.

He set the tiny plates down and stepped back. “Blini with trout roe caviar and crème fraiche.”

“Thank you,” Draco and she said as one, and the waiter nodded and left them to it.

Draco raised his glass and Hermione tried not to stare at his long fingers or the way he held it so gracefully by the stem as he lifted it. She felt like she might fumble and drop hers if she tried to emulate that, but she did her best. After all, she’d endured a fair few dinners and functions at the Ministry, so she was hardly about to embarrass herself now, however hard Draco seemed to make it.

“Thank you for…” Draco began, trailing off into uncertainty. His eyes turned glassy and he blinked rapidly a couple of times. “Well, thank you for giving me a shot, Granger. I know I have a lot to make up for still, but thank you for joining me tonight.”

She smiled and playfully chinked her glass against his. As the soft chime of glass on glass dissipated, she said, “Like I told Theo after his little chat, to which I understand you were also subjected —” he nodded wryly but let her continue uninterrupted “— I wouldn’t be here if I believed you were still the same person you were at Hogwarts. There was so much going on back then, and we were all pawns in a larger game to one extent or another. By this point, I’m honestly happy to let the past lie and look forward.”

He exhaled expansively. “I’ll drink to that,” he muttered.

Their food when it arrived was incredible; never too much (or too little, she was pleased to note), or too fancy so as to be basically inedible. They talked lightly while they ate, mostly of the goings on of people they had in common: Theo and Dan, Pansy, and Blaise.

By the time they were halfway through dessert, Draco said, “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” she smiled. “Why should you be open to any and all questions, but not me?”

“Just because I said that about me, doesn’t mean you have to take the same stance, Granger.”

“True, but this is a date, right?”

He swallowed. “If you’d like it to be.”

“All on me?” she chuckled. “I’ll admit I was rather hoping it was.”

“Then it’s a date,” he said quietly.

“Well, shouldn’t dates be about getting to know the person better? Ask away, Malfoy. Whatever you’ve got, I can take it.” Within reason, she added privately.

His answering smile was dazzling, and it brought little dimples to his cheeks that she’d not noticed before. It made her heart beat oddly in her chest, and a new heat pulsed between her legs.

“Good lord, Malfoy,” she hissed, “You’re handsome when you smile like that.”

He pursed his lips and flushed a dark pink right up to his ears.

“Sorry,” she said, still laughing a little. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you. But I’d be happy to encourage more smiles like that in the future. What was your question?”

He opened his mouth, cheeks still pink, but his eyes turned serious. “Why did you really quit your job as Minister? You were so young…”

“I peaked too soon,” she shrugged easily enough, though she felt the playful mirth settling down again in a way that had nothing to do with the chocolate dessert lying heavy in her stomach.

She sat back in her seat and picked up the remnants of her wine, swirling it thoughtfully for a moment.

“I felt like…” she stopped and changed tack. “At school I felt like all I amounted to was how smart I could be, you know?”

His brows flickered into a frown, but he didn’t interrupt her.

“I didn’t have the looks of someone like Fleur or Cho, or… Lavender,” she said, raising her eyebrows inadvertently. “All I really had to validate myself was my latest test score, or how useful I was to Harry, or how much research I could condense into one last-minute panic whenever the latest life-threatening event popped up…” She sighed. “I think that set me up for failure when I left school and discovered it wasn’t all about grades and how many facts you could regurgitate.” After a slight pause, she cocked her head and said, “Nobody likes a smart-arse after all.”

The brief colour in Malfoy’s face had drained to parchment white again as he listened, and he sat perfectly straight in his seat, tense and serious once more.

Nervously, she began to babble a little. “So… I obviously cottoned on to that after I started at the Ministry, and I adapted, and I did pretty well at the DMLE. They kept asking me to be an Auror because of my spellwork, but I freeze up completely under pressure, and I’m a terrible dualist, so that was out of the question. I do much better behind the scenes - always have. But…” she sighed and drank a little more wine as her monologue threatened to run away with her. “To answer your original question, I lost sight of where the line was,” she said.

“What line?”

She shook her head, loose ringlets shivering with the motion. “The line between work and family, I suppose. I took on more and more work to try and prove my value, and stayed later and later every night at the Ministry. I didn’t even realise I was losing our marriage until it was far, far too late. Ron and I argued an awful lot towards the end, but somehow it was still a shock to me when he asked for a divorce.”

She tucked a stray ringlet behind her ear, revealing a simple silver earring.

“It was like I was so wrapped up in all this work — which I could have delegated, but I was still it doing anyway because…” she puffed her cheeks out and shrugged, “…because that’s just what the Minister for Magic does, right?” With a final sigh she finished her wine and said, “So a week after the divorce went through, I was sitting in my office, and I looked at all the memos still zipping around in front of me, and I just thought… ‘this is my life. This is all I am’, and I quit that afternoon.”

“Brave of you,” he murmured.

“I didn’t feel like it at the time,” she said, grateful beyond words at his reaction. No one, bar perhaps Harry, had reacted that way back then. They’d all thought she was nuts. “I spent a month in a Muggle cottage in the middle of nowhere in Pembrokeshire, and then another five months back here in London doing almost nothing. I was a complete mess. It was around then that Ginny got pregnant with Lily, so I was there for her quite a bit, looking after Albus and James and teaching them. That was fun. I really enjoyed that. I think… I think brought me back down after the chaos of quitting my job like that, you know?”

“Children can do that,” he commented wryly. “You and Weasley never had any though.”

She’d seen the blow coming — set herself up perfectly for it — but it still caught her full in the chest. She swallowed and shook her head, unable to look him in the eye for reasons she hoped to keep secret from him. “We tried, but…” she shrugged. “It wasn’t to be. Not long after that though, I saw the advert for the bookshop, and I’ve never looked back.”

Draco frowned. “I’m sorry.”

“It was probably for the best anyway. I don’t think I’d have made a good mother back then. I barely made time for myself, let alone for a family.” She cleared her throat and then asked, “Speaking of sprogs, did you find out why Scorpius is in detention?”

He barked a laugh at that and she found herself relaxing again as he let her artlessly change subjects.

“My dear little mandrake somehow brewed a stink bomb in his dormitory and set it off in the library near some Gryffindors. They’d apparently been mocking Albus for being a Potter in Slytherin. Did the job so well that the Gryffindors smelled of rotten eggs for a week, no matter what they tried to get rid of it.” He seemed quietly proud of Scorpius for that, and she couldn’t really blame him, knowing what a talent Draco himself had had for potions back then.

Her face did darken at the news of Albus being bullied though, and she made a note to check in on Harry. Then she reeled back through his last sentence, to the part where he’d called Scorpius his ‘dear little mandrake’, and chuckled. “You still call him that then?”

“What, ‘mandrake’?” Malfoy seemed surprised by her question.

“Mm.”

“If the shoe fits, Granger. I’ve never heard of a child that could scream like Scorpius, so when you dubbed him that, it kind of stuck.”

A huge smile dawned on her face and her stomach swooped somehow.

“What?” he asked.

“Draco Malfoy is a huge sap,” she said. “Who’d have thought it?”

He rolled his grey eyes but couldn’t keep the answering smile off his face. “Don’t broadcast it, Granger.”

“It’ll be our secret, I promise,” she said.

Draco’s gaze slid over her shoulder a little while later and he signalled the waiter with a subtle raising of his pale eyebrows.

When the man appeared, it was not to take payment in coins the way every other wizarding establishment did, but it was with a parchment and quill for him to sign. It struck her as oddly modern for the magical world, akin to a cheque or even a credit card. Transaction complete, the waiter departed, leaving behind a small tray of delicate petit fours.

“Draco, I don’t think I can eat another thing,” she said, looking wistfully at them.

“I can ask them to box them up for us if you'd prefer?” he said.

With that done, they rose and headed out. Draco collected his cloak and swirled it around his shoulders, and they stepped through the illusory wall and back into a damp, Muggle London.

“Draco,” she whispered, standing on the pavement beside him and becoming very aware of just how tall he was now, even with her heels to help.

His eyes were dark, pupils wide once more, as he regarded her. “Mmm?”

“I don’t want tonight to end,” she whispered. “Isn’t that silly?” She almost sobbed as she thought about going back to her sorry little empty apartment after spending all evening either smiling or laughing or really just… talking.

“No,” he replied. After a beat of silence, he hissed, “Granger, may I kiss you?”

“Yes,” she breathed, and parted her lips as he brought his warm, slightly rough hands to her jawline and held her delicately. He moved as if he were convinced he still wasn’t allowed to touch her at all, but when she smiled up at him, he exhaled roughly and returned it faintly.

Then he leaned down, angling his head slightly to the left, and brushed his lips against hers so lightly she almost missed it. He still tasted of chocolate and wine, but she chased the retreating gesture hungrily, pressing her lips against his, placing her hands on his hips and drawing their bodies together. She could feel how sharp his hipbones were through the fabric of his trousers and it made her ache inside and out to map his body.

Draco moaned and his eyes fluttered closed as he kissed her; gently at first, and then, as a fire kindled in him, he became more demanding. His teeth nipped at her lower lip followed by the tantalising brush of his tongue that left her tingling all over. Unquestioningly, she let him deepen their kiss until they were both breathless, and she could feel his growing arousal where she pressed her body against his.

Panting, Draco finally drew back, still without taking his hands from her face. He stood stooped, his eyes closed, his teeth sunk into his lip. “Granger,” he breathed at last.

“Are you going back to the Manor?” she asked, feeling slightly giddy.

“No, I have a flat in London. If you… If you wanted to come back with me, you’d… you'd be most welcome.”

“Is it far?”

“We’re probably best apparating from here,” he said, finally lowering his hands, though he didn't step back.

She could have counted every one of his silver lashes if she’d had the concentration for it. As it was, her core burned, and she was suddenly wetter and more turned on than she could ever remember being.

“You could side-along if you’d like?” he rasped.

She frowned, the fog in her mind starting to clear just a fraction. “You don’t have wards up?” When he pursed his lips, the knut dropped and she laughed. “You already adjusted them? That confident were we, Malfoy? I don't know whether to be impressed or insulted…”

His cheeks darkened and he chuckled. “More like… I was being hopelessly optimistic. But I don’t want you to feel pressured, Granger. We can call it a night here if you’d prefer.”

“Thank you for that,” she said quickly, but she took hold of his fingers where they rested by his side, and squeezed his hand. “But we’re not in our twenties, and we don’t have to pretend to wait for the third date or whatever to know what we want. Besides,” she added with a glint in her eyes, “If I have to go any longer than another few seconds without your mouth on me again, I may just explode.”

Pleasantly stunned by her affirmation, Malfoy recovered quickly, and kissed her again. It was not chaste or fleeting this time. “Ready?” he asked when he eventually straightened.

She nodded, and clung to him as the unpleasant, hook-like apparition spell took hold of both of them and yanked them across London to the centre of Malfoy’s living room.

He let her catch her breath before robbing her of it once again with kiss after kiss, over and over. Then he moved his attention down her neck until she was gasping, chest heaving, and hot all over. Her small clutch hit the floorboards as her fingers went limp, and he shrugged off his cloak and jacket, dumping the clothes on the nearby white sofa before returning to her.

She had barely had time to take in the sleek, austere, and rather soulless furnishings of the apartment before he was sucking a bruise at her collarbone and she flung her head back with a broken cry of pleasure.

“Gods, Granger,” he said between kisses. “I’ve wanted to do that to you all evening.”

“You have?” she laughed as his hands skimmed down her sides to her hips and gripped her tightly.

He growled something inarticulate and then moved his touch to the zip at the back of her dress. “May I?”

“I’ve thought about you doing that all evening,” she said playfully, eliciting another growl from him before he had turned her and drawn the zip all the way down to the small of her back.

“Oh Merlin and Morgana,” he purred appreciatively under his breath as he began kissing her where she stood, working his way over her shoulder blade and down to her bra clasp. He raked his teeth over the slightly freckled skin of her back and then delicately drew the shoulders of her dress down so that the fabric pooled around her waist, leaving her upper body exposed in only her bra.

He moved her to face him again and continued to undress her, staring wide eyed and hungrily at her in a way that made her squirm, heat and wetness pooling between her legs. When he got to her matching underwear, he knelt before her on the floorboards and kissed her lower stomach and hips before sliding his fingertips under the dark lace and caressing the impossibly sensitive skin where her groin met her thigh.

“Granger, sit back for me?” he asked and she sank, shaky-kneed, onto the sofa behind her. Self-consciousness crashed through her as he continued to stare openly at her and she swallowed.

Clearly sensing something was wrong, he looked up and frowned. “Is… Is this alright?” he asked, hands faltering where his fingertips rested on the inside of her thighs.

“Yeah,” she said truthfully. “Just… Well…” she inhaled and then let it go with a nervous laugh. “It’s been a while since anyone’s seen me without my clothes on, Malfoy. And even with yours still on, it’s hard not to feel a bit… you know…”

Malfoy snarled, lip curling. “You’re exquisite, Granger,” he growled. “I’ve been half-hard all fucking evening. Let me show you how bloody gorgeous you are?” he asked, and with that, he spread her legs a little more and drew her underwear to one side.

He skimmed the pad of his thumb slowly, reverently over her clit and she bucked, abandoning much of her embarrassment as a jolt of pleasure seared through her. “Oh God, Malfoy…” she grunted as he kissed up the insides of her thighs, occasionally closing his teeth over her skin.

“Can I taste you?” he asked from his vigil on the floor between her knees.

“Yes… God, yes…”

And with that, he drew her underwear down while she hitched her hips up to help, and his mouth closed over her sex. The sudden, pressing heat of it made her head loll back and her spine arch, but then he brought his tongue to her and laved a long stripe up over her folds and circled her clit and she shuddered.

“You’re so wet,” he breathed, sounding astonished.

“Mmm,” she said. “Not the only one who’s been thinking about this all night,” she laughed.

“Fuck…” he hissed to himself as he returned his mouth to her.

The steady motion of his tongue dipping occasionally inside her before returning to suckle and lick at her clit had her shaking and clutching the sofa in minutes. Nothing that anyone had ever done to her had ever felt this good. Heat built inside her like a stoked furnace and she arched again while Draco held her with both his arms beneath her thighs, drawing himself into her. He was going to bring her to her peak with nothing but his mouth.

“Draco I’m going to come,” she gasped. “Draco… Oh fuck… Draco!” and with that, she shattered. A convulsing wave of heat and blinding white light ripped through her and she cried out, head thrown back, mouth open, eyes screwed shut as Draco kept his tongue pressed to her pulsing clit and eased her through it.

When he sat back on his heels, his lips were puffy and shone from her arousal, and he gazed up at her as if she were some kind of goddess. His eyes were blown dark, wide with a kind of reverent lust that she’d never imagined him capable of.

He looked her up and down and smiled.

“I didn’t even take my shoes off,” she laughed a moment later as the realisation dawned.

“I know,” he smiled. “That was partly what made me lose it so quickly. You clearly have no idea how fucking incredible you look, Granger.”

She had to smile at that. How could she not smile when he was still kneeling between her legs and the evidence of his own arousal was plain to see.

“Would you like me to help you out of them?” he asked.

“Please,” she said.

His hands held her ankle so delicately that she bucked again, though the movement was muted. He caressed the bones of her ankle and after he had slipped her feet from the shoes, he set them to one side and rose gracefully to his feet. He held out his hand and asked, “Bedroom?”

“Unless you want me to ride you here on your living room couch,” she said and his jaw slackened slightly. “Then yes.”

He led her, naked save for her bra, to a room just off from the sitting room, and while he still had his back to her to focus on casting a soft lumos spell, she unclasped her bra and let it fall to the floor. Drawn by the sound of it hitting the carpet, he turned. In two steps, he had crossed back to her and in his right hand he took a handful of her hair and tipped her head back, while in his left he cupped the weight of her right breast and moaned against her mouth.

“Are you trying to get me to spill in my trousers like a teenager, Granger?” he hissed.

She laughed. “Let’s get you caught up then,” she said, and began to undo the button and zip at his waistband. He stepped out of his trousers and left them crumpled on the floor, and she whispered, “You have the most incredible legs, Draco. I’ve always thought so.”

“You have?” he asked, hands going to begin on his tie and shirt buttons while she ran her fingers around his lower stomach beneath the waistband of his black boxer-briefs.

“Mmm. I know I didn’t like you as a person back then, but even I have to admit you looked incredible out there in your quidditch kit.”

He smirked, clearly pleased, and fumbled a button.

“Let me?”

His cock twitched noticeably, and he raised his chin a little, hands falling limply at his sides. Before she’d managed even a single button, his fingers had found her hips again and he began tracing idle circles with his thumb over her skin.

Hermione took her time undressing him, and when she finally peeled back the front of his shirt, she bit her lip at the sight of his torso. Without removing his shirt completely, she brought her fingertips to his pecs and trailed them down, circling one nipple without quite touching the dusky pink bud, and then moved down over the clear ridges of his abs. He was in incredible shape, seemingly without an ounce of fat on him anywhere. She swallowed, throat dry.

“How are you even real?” she found herself whispering. “Draco, you’re beautiful…”

He flushed from his collarbones, up his neck, all the way to his ears, but didn’t move. His eyes fluttered closed, and as she drew back the fabric of his shirt a little further, she noticed a long, silver scar slashing across his chest like the after-image of a lightning strike. It stretched from his left shoulder, across his chest, down to below his right ribs and, she realised as she followed the line of it with her fingers, he had a second right above the waistband of his boxer-briefs. A third, smaller scar curled around his left hip.

“Is that where…?”

“Potter,” he hissed through closed teeth. His smile was sad, like he’d long ago forgiven the boy for lashing out with a spell he’d never even heard of.

It was only as she pulled his shirt slowly off his perfect, marble shoulders, that she remembered his Dark Mark. Instantly her eyes went to his left arm, where all of Voldemort’s followers had borne his brand, and there in fading, dark, smudged ink, sat the leering skull with its coiling snake.

“Don’t,” he snarled softly, drawing his arm back away from her. “Don’t look at it.”

“Alright,” she said.

His eyebrows rose, as if he’d expected her to argue and lecture him somehow, but instead, she hooked her finger beneath the waistband of his one remaining piece of clothing, and pulled his underwear carefully down, freeing his cock.

Pre-come beaded instantly at the flushed head, and he inhaled softly as she smiled and pressed her palm into his hip, steering him back towards the bed.

In a daze, he let her move him, and he laid his head back on the pillows, hair as white as the cotton beneath, and stared up at her with his eyes dark and lidded. “Granger,” he whispered, and she straddled him slowly. His hands found her hips as she sank down and rocked her wet folds up the length of his hard cock. At the contact, he gasped and jerked his sharp chin up towards the ceiling, heels digging into the mattress behind her. “Oh fuck, Granger…” he said.

“Mmm?”

“Oh gods. Oh Merlin… fuck…”

“I’ve reduced him to a babbling idiot again,” she giggled, and he laughed too. The sound was open and free and truly delighted, and she leaned down and took his nipples between finger and thumb and tweaked them slowly.

A deep, guttural groan left his throat and the tendons jutted out in sharp relief against his neck as his whole body went taut. He tried to buck beneath her, but she held him firmly between her thighs and he dug his fingers into the muscle of her legs hard enough that she thought she might bear the marks of it afterwards.

Draco began to pant as she rolled herself repeatedly along his cock, luxuriating in the gliding contact.

Then she heard him hiss a contraceptive spell, and she almost laughed. Clearly it was little more than a reflex for him, and she didn’t interrupt him for it, but the surprise of it nearly brought her out of the moment altogether. Next he had brought his hand to his cock and was guiding the head to enter her. She was slick and sensitive from having come already, and he eased into her without resistance.

She was, however, as he declared in a broken moan, “…so fucking tight…”

Hermione began to rock again once he was seated inside her to the hilt, but he grabbed her hips and curled his torso in on itself, panting. “Don’t move, Granger. Fuck. Don’t fucking move.”

She smirked. “You’re that close already?”

“Shut up,” he snapped without sting, and then let his shoulders drop back down to the mattress behind him again. “Fuck…” he laughed, almost shyly.

Then he surprised her again by reaching his hands up to her shoulders and suddenly the world tilted, and she found herself beneath him and lying on her back on the mattress. She parted her legs a little further, allowing him deeper, and he growled again. He looked ethereal as he loomed over her, all pale skin and silver hair, and her core tightened.

“You’re going to make me come again, Draco,” she whispered as it built inside her anew. This time it was less raw and needful, but no less intense.

And with that, he began to move. At first, he withdrew until he was almost all the way out, leaving only the tip of his cock inside her, but soon enough he sank back down to the hilt with another glorious groan. Picking up a rhythm that soon had him heaving for breath, he raised one of her legs and hooked her knee over his shoulder, her thigh to his chest. With that new angle, he hit her so deep with every stroke that she saw stars.

“You’re going to come for me, aren’t you Granger?” he rasped. “Gods, I can feel it. I can feel you… you’re so tight. You’re perfect, you’re… Granger…” he grunted and then he was coming. His torso clenched and his head bowed low, and the rush of his release inside her and the way he clung to her shoulders tipped her over the edge and she followed him.

Malfoy raised himself on shaking arms a long moment later, one hand braced on either side of her head, and looked down at her. His white hair was dishevelled and a sheen of sweat stippled across his forehead, but it was his eyes that held her. Dark and glassy, he stared in open wonder at her, and then he smiled.

“Granger…” he whispered, and she laughed with elation as she kissed him.

___

Chapter Seven

Let me know what you think, and help a newbie (at least to contributing anyway) to the fandom out by reblogging!

writing masterlist | Ao3

#dramione #dramione fic #older dramione #draco malfoy x hermione granger #hermione granger x draco malfoy #draco x hermione #hermione x draco #let no man steal your thyme

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megahologram · 4 years

Text

Not Ready | Otis Milburn

A/N: a little short but I didn’t know what else to do with this idea. BTW I would also love to take requests :)

Warning(s): talks about sexual intercourse

°•○●○•°

“Morning Ms. Milburn” you reply after opening the door to the old history classroom. The new office Jean had created during her time in the school.

“Hi Dear, please come in, have a seat” Jean replied, pointing her to the chair in front of her desk.

You gladly walked in the office, closing the door behind you before sitting down on the seat.

“well, how may I help you today” Jean asks, picking up her journal that was full of notes from her other clients.

“um well...” you hesitated, unsure how to bring up the conversation about her son.

“it’s okay dear, take your time” Jean replies, the reassurance you needed to gather the courage to continue.

You let out a deep breathe before continuing, “well, yesterday Otis and I were…in his room…you know in the moment. And usually when we were in intimate situations like those, he would be the nervous one. Cause he overthinks like all the time, but yesterday was different”

“different? How so” Jean asks.

“well, we were about to have sex and I backed out” you let out quickly, letting out a breath after the words released.

“okay, and why did yo-“

“I don’t know okay. It’s not that I don’t want to have sex or anything. Cause I do. But I just felt…so nervous..like…when I felt him unzipping the zipper from my pants, I was scared. Like he was gonna force me to do it or tha-I know Otis would never but I don’t know why I felt this. I never felt like this in other situations. And after it all happened, I basically had a nervous break down and couldn’t even talk to Otis. Which made him angry for some reason and we got into this huge fight and that’s why you saw me leave the house all angry and shit.” You didn’t realize your hands were shaking until you saw them.

“was this the first time you felt this way” Jean asks you politely.

“well yes, because usually when we’re in intimate situations, we both know we aren’t going all the way. But yesterday, I guess I both knew we were about to go all the way and maybe I got nervous”

“Hey, its completely fine to get nervous in situations like these. Especially when it’s your first time. But the way you explain it to me, it sounds to me like you’re not just yet ready to do it. Which is completely alright. I think you need to tell Otis about this, I’m sure he’ll understand”

“yeah I guess your right. Will I ever be ready, or will I always get nervous like this”

“I assure you dear, you won’t always feel like this. But it’s good to tell your partner how you’re feeling, so if this happens again, he knows exactly how to help you”

You took in Jeans words, letting them sink in. She was right, you knew that, you had to tell Otis. Smiling at the lady in front of you, “thank you so much”

“no problem” you hear her reply as you close the door behind you as you walk out the office.

Walking through the halls, your eyes fall on Otis, who was already watching you. Looks like he saw you walking in Jeans office. You let out a breath before making your way to him. “hey” you say as you got beside him.

When you received no reply back, you roll your eyes, knowing how stubborn Otis can be at times. “can we please talk”

Otis let out a sign before nodding his head. He closed his locker, letting you connect your hands, leading you outside to a private place you both knew no one comes. Usually couples come here to make out or have sex but thankfully it was empty right now.

You leaned against the concert wall, Otis standing in front of you with an eyebrow raised, waiting for you to speak up. ‘god he can be so intimidating sometimes’ you thought.

Playing with your fingers, you didn’t know how to bring up the conversation. You felt overwhelmed, nervous how he would react if you told him his girlfriend is scared to have sex. She probably would be for a while. You felt your heart beginning to race as you thought how he would react, what if he broke up with you. The thought cause tears to build up in your eyes, and soon you realized you were sobbing in front of him.

All the anger Otis had, all melted away. How could he be angry when the love of his life was crying in front of him, that too because of him. “hey hey hey, it’s okay baby” Otis says quietly, pulling the girl in for a hug, while she sobbed in his chest. After a few minutes you calmed down, releasing your hands around Otis’s waist falling as you saw the wetness of his shirt from your tears. “I’m sorry” you reply, looking down

“I should be the one to say sorry. I can’t believe I got mad at you yesterday, you clearly weren’t ready and I couldn’t understand that. I’m really sorry baby, I love you so much. If you don’t ever want to have sex, I don’t care, I just want to be with you.“

Otis’s words brought tears to fall in your eyes again. “I just got nervous. I talked to your mom and she said I wasn’t ready just yet to do it. And I think she’s right”

“it’s okay, are you still mad at me”

Shaking your head, you look up to see him smiling at you. “I was just scared you’d break up with me“

“I would never” he says before bringing you in for another hug.

#multifandom imagines #imagines #sex education #netflix #otis milburn x reader #otis milburn #asa butterfield

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joyrose-fandomer · 3 years

Text

Music club AU Chap2 (Sanders sides Human AU)

TL;DR: What if you just wanted to play music in peace but the autor sayed “chaos twins :)”

POV: Virgil

Relationship: Creativitwins, Prinxiety, Logicality parent to Virgil, (later in the story) Dukceit.

TW: Play fighting

<<Previous Next>>

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God loves to mess with little old Virgil, do they?

The teenager just wanted to play music and have a good time, for ONCE!

But nooo, couldn't have that did he?

Virgil just opened the door to the classroom where the music club took place, standing at the threshold, staring at not one but both of yesterday's idiots staring back at him from their seat in the classroom.

He closed back the door. A laugh exploded inside the room followed by rushed footsteps.

Virgil practically ran through the corridor and was at the other side of it when someone flew the door of the classroom open and yelled.

"WAIT, COME BACK!"

It was a good thing that it was lunchtime and everyone was out, eating because Virgil would not have been able to handle the embarrassment.

The guy took the chance to run through the corridor while Virgil was still stunned.

He reached him breathless.

"Wait... don't go.... just...one second" He took a few deep breaths "Alright... Let's start again."

The tall boy corrected his posture and fashed a 100-watt smile.

"Hi. I'm Roman. And you are?"

Virgil looks at the hand his schoolmate was extending to him like it was going to electrocute him. Wich he was seriously considering could happend.

The unconvinced emo took a long look up and down the dramatic boy who was growing more uncomfortable and nervous every second.

He was a head taller than Virgil, His hair where a stylish mess, he was wearing an outfit stolen straight up from a model magazine and not to be gay but he was so jacked that Virgil could see his pecks from under his shirt.

"Sooo..." The much to jacked teen continued when he saw that Virgil was not going to answer "Should I be worried by this elevator look or..." He left the end of the sentence hanging in the hope that Virgil would tell him something, anything.

But he simply rose an eyebrow.

Roman finally let his arm fall to his side, starting to be tired of holding it up for so long.

"Look. I got it. Using you for a challenge was not cool. I'm dumb and my brother is even dumber.

But still, give me chance. I really want to get to know you. So, how about we get back to the classroom before the teacher arrives and you can decide my fate after?

Please?"

His dramatic schoolmate had quickly shot the sentences one after the other, making big movements to accentuate his point.

Alright, Virgil was starting to get second-hand anxiety from this interaction, let's just go back to the classroom and get it over with.

He sighed and reluctantly got past the nervous mess in front of him to make his way back down the corridor, causing a disbelieving grin to appear on the face of the other boy who started trotting behind him.

If only he knew that he just threw out the window his only chance at peace for that smile.

Once in the classroom, Virgil was immediately greeted by a whistle coming from the other member of the dumb duo who was now sprawled over two chairs and tables. His hair was partially white and his outfit looked like he stoled Roman's close and made them voluntarily look as terrible as possible.

Virgil looked back at Roman who was joining his own hands together over his mouth, silently praying to Virgil to not back out.

Puppy eyes had always been the emo's weakness, his dad used them constantly against him, so when a pretty face was giving him those hopeful eyes he was unable to refuse.

He reluctantly walked into the classroom only to realize that the only seat left was the one right in front of the brothers that none took due to being the closest to the teacher.

Great.

"Wow, Ro! I can't believe you managed to get him to stay, that's a new record!"

Roman's brother claimed, throwing his arms for emphasizes and almost hitting Virgil in the process.

"Not thank's to you. Now scout over I wants my sit."

"Make me"

The strange twin challenged with a smirk. A challenge that was apparently accepted immediately judging by the wicked smile appearing on the face of the other twin.

"Gladly"

The dramatic boy took the ankles of the chaotic one and all but dragged him to the floor, getting a laugh out of his brother. Everyone was looking at them like they were insane and Virgil couldn't agree more.

Roman sunk in his sit, behind Virgil, completely unbothered by the chorus of confused laughter from the other students.

This was the scene playing when the teacher entered the classroom. Everyone when as silent as possible, a few of them had to hold their laughter with their hands. The embodiment of chaos looked up from his spot on the ground with an innocent smile.

The teacher took silently a sip of his coffee and walked past the teenager to reach the front of the room before sitting on his desk.

"Sup, everyone. Glad to see a lot of familiar faces. For those who don't know me, the name's Remy. I'm a music teacher and I'll babysit you all an hour every week for this club. You're welcome."

At the word 'babysit' he looked through his sunglasses at the trouble maker who was sitting back on his chair.

It took barely a look to know which student already knew the men, smiling and snickering like it was their wired uncle or big brother. And the ones who discovered the strange character, blinking and staring in confusion.

Two girls started whispering to each other a few rows behind, causing the teacher to snap his fingers to get their attention.

"Sorry, Sir! We were just wondering if Remy was your last name"

One of the girls quickly apologized.

"Don't sir me and no, that's my first name. My name is Dorme. Any other question?"

After a silence, he continued.

"Good. So I'm going to take the same call from last year and cross out everyone we lost during the summer break. Toby!"

Someone with orange hair and a skeleton hoody rose their hand.

"Hi Toby, last year right? Think you can go to the club and study at the same time?"

"No problem, Remy"

Remy nodded and looked back at his list.

"Amely!"

A tall girl with a flowery dress rose her hand from the back of the class.

"Hey girl, how's the transition going? Want to stay with the altos or do you want to try and go soprano?"

"It's going great but I'd like to stay alto if possible"

"Of course. Next, Mike!"

There was no answer so he crossed them out. It continued like that for a few more minutes before he put the list down and took an empty paper.

"Ok, now time to cheek the newbies. Just say your name, pronoun, and any instrument you can play. We start from the front and make our way back from left to right."

Meaning Virgil was first. Too much pressure.

He looked up at the teacher who was waiting for him to speak. Everyone was looking at him it was awful. He went to say his name but his voice refused to cooperate.

The teacher handed him the empty sheet where the anxious boy wrote 'Virgil Adams, he/him, base'

"Quick question, do you think you'll be able to sing or-" Mr. Dorme posed mid-sentence when he looked at the paper. "Never mind. Steve, good news, we have a base. You can play the guitar now!"

Steve, a boy with a plaid shirt and dark curly hair, made a 'woohoo!' of victory.

Remy looked back at Virgil.

"Don't worry about singing if you don't feel like it. Want to start tuning the base?"

The high schooler noded quickly and practically ran to the back of the classroom where Nat, one of the older students showed him where the material was.

The teacher called for the next student to introduce themself.

There was a noise of a chair being pushed back followed by an obnoxious voice.

"Greetings! I'm Roman Poquelin, he/him, and I can play any string and wind instrument except the base, the violoncello, and, god forbid, the kazoo."

"The kazoo is great! You don't know what you're talking about!"

The other twin defended

"The kazoo is an atrocity made by people with no taste!"

"You just hate fun!"

"This is not fun it's torture!"

Remy intervened before the kazoo debate blows up to far.

"That's enough you two, Roman sit down. Next."

"Remus Poquelin, he/them, I play every percussion as well as the trombone, accordion, bagpipe, otamatone, and KAZOO"

The chaotic twin insisted on the word 'kazoo' just the get a reaction from his brother who growled at him.

"Hey, that makes two Rems!" Toby yelled.

"You're right one of us got to change their name it ain't me" Remy added with a joking tone.

Remus thought about it for a moment before screaming proudly "DUKE!"

There was a confused silence cute only by a little "what?" from Steve.

Remus anwserd with a big dramatic mouvement.

"Everyone! Call me duke, or duky, or D or Di-"

"We are not calling you that." Roman interrupted with a tired sigh.

Virgil was starting to wonder if they were going to always be like that because it was starting to be exhausting.

Remy probably thought the same since he downed all his coffee before pushing on with the rest of the introductions.

Luckily there were only the two girls left who didn't make a scene out of it. Named Branda and Harley. Two sopranos, none playing any instrument.

Steve had joined Virgil with his guitar and they waited for Remy to explain the year's program.

Apparently, he had planed a few small concerts around the school during the year and 3 big ones including a competition interschool, and two concerts not taken in charge by the school as extra scholar activity.

That made a lot of concerts, and no matter how much Virgil liked to play, he still hated being under the spotlight.

They then made some vocal exercises and while everyone was reading the lyric of the song they were going to work on today, Remy explains how to play the song to Virgil, Steve, and Remus who got asked to play the drums.

The song was rather simple and except for Virgil, everyone was singing. They had to start again multiple times due to Remus somehow managing to never sing the note right while still playing the drums perfectly.

"Remus, can you sing me a 'la'?" Mr. Remy asked probably starting to wonder if he was doing it voluntarily.

Remus sang a 'mi'

"Try again?"

a 're'

"No, that's worst. Again?"

a 'si'

"Ok, you're just messing with me now" The teacher sighed

Roman rose his hand.

"He's not messing with you. He actually can't do it.

He knows what note your asking of him he just can't sing it, but he can still play."

The music teacher looked confused at that.

"Do you want to be exempted from singing little duke?"

He got answered with a big nod.

So now they were two not singing.

On the other hand, Roman grew more and more comfortable with the song and his dramatic personality slowly took over until they riched the last song and he couldn't help but hold the last note for almost a full minute.

Virgil and Steve had stopped playing by now but Remus kept a drum roll for his brother with a straight face, apparently knowing that it was going to happen.

When Roman finished the bassist exchanged a look with the drumer and somehow he just knew they were thinking the same thing.

Remus grinned and suddenly they were both laughing.

Nate joined in, hiding his face in his jacket, then Remy, Amely, and in seconds everyone was laughing, Roman included.

The bell rang. Warning them that it was time to go back to class.

While cleaning everything up Virgil heard Branda comment.

"It's going to be a weird year"

Never, truer words had been said.

***<>========<>***

(Virgil : Not to be gay but *proceed to be very gay*) XD

#sanders sides #sanders sides AU #Sander side fic #roman sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders #remy sanders #prinxiety #creativitwins

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