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philtstone · 18 days

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jaime/claire -- holding the other's chin up

after literally one million years i finally finished this. this is not technically an om-shanti-om au but it's not not one, either

On Wednesday morning, Jamie and his Ghost had a row.

It is now Thursday afternoon, and Jamie is sitting in a hospital room, covered in muck from head to toe and wondering if this isn’t God’s great punishment for daring to leave his bloody flat.

He’s not sure when he started referring to the Ghost as his. Traditionally, if you’re the sort to believe in such things, ownership of ghosts runs through 1) ancestry or 2) a familial home. His aunt Jocasta, for example, had an ornery old Frenchman in the cellar of the MacKenzies’ old brick tower who had no relation to any of them, but wouldn’t let the damned house go generation after generation; Jocasta claims the bastard had been the mysterious lad who seduced that one grand-cousin of theirs into batting for the other side, which led to his divorcing his wife and moving to Cuba – and who is Jamie to have his doubts, really, when he’s got a ghost of his own.

The argument could be made that Jamie’s ghost has taken up residence in his flat — hence his turn of phrase. But he’s only renting after all, and more than that, he’s got a weird feeling she never snooped through the previous tenants’ bookshelves or sock drawers or anything either.

Now she won’t speak to him. It is four months to the day Jamie moved in, and, not two hours later, made her acquaintance while having an angry cry on the toilet. It’d been a rough go of it – between the accident and Jenny and Da —

Jamie had, at that time, resigned himself to the inevitability of his flunking out of graduate work before he’d ever started it. He’d barely been making it to his physio appointments when the Ghost appeared, let alone his classes; either he wouldn’t answer Jenny’s calls or she wouldn’t answer his; and in the twenty four hours he’d been in his new flat, the upstairs neighbours had already had audibly angry sex twice, which was two times too many for Jamie’s fragile mental state (not to mention his resounding lack of girlfriend). It was amidst all of this that The Ghost materialized.

The Ghost glows like a firefly, speaks like she stepped out of a World War Two-era black and white film and can’t seem to stay in one spot long enough for Jamie to see her face properly. She hasn't got a name, has given no indication of a family, and won’t tell him how and where she died. She’s miserable when she isn’t cracking laughs out of him by snooping through his old copy of Descartes and wondering aloud whether he actually reads the books he owns. She herself has no patience for reading (though she accidentally knocked a lamp over exclaiming at his battered copy of Lord of the Rings), endless patience for his sporadic monologues on morphological theory, and a complete fascination with his mobile phone. Also, the soapy mess that is Grey’s Anatomy, which was playing on the telly once.

“How old were ye,” Jamie asked one day, blowing on his instant noodles, which the Ghost had been eyeing with great skepticism for the latter half of the last fifteen minutes. He supposed she had every right to judge, if she were once a twentieth century housewife, but very little about her suggested an abundance of housewifely skills.

“What are your thoughts on knitting?” asked the Ghost, apropos of nothing.

“I asked first.”

“Did you.”

“When ye went, I mean. How old were ye?”

For a moment it was hard to look directly at her, because she was suddenly far less clearly formed than before. Then, quick as a wink, she was young and mostly corporeal again.

“Terribly,” said the Ghost. “I had white hair and everything.”

He mulled this over. “I can imagine it must’ve been quite somethin’ tae behold,” he says. “Sorcha.”

She smiled, all brilliance, all tenderness – very different from the sadness that lingered around her otherwise. Slowly she floated over, under his silent observation, and with hands that were not fully there and made of the stuff of nightlights cupped his face, lifting his chin. There in his sad little kitchen she glowed. Jamie kept blinking behind his glasses, like maybe if he did it hard enough, he could finally see her. Did she have a husband she missed? Jamie thought. Was it paining her something awful to be stuck in his sad little studio, with the two plants left living and the little grey cat no one in the building would properly claim ownership of?

Then, “Knitting,” she said. So Jamie confessed what little his Mam had taught him as a kid.

She knows all the scientific names of the bones and ligaments and tissues in his body that were damaged in the accident, and – perhaps due to her ghostly nature – can preternaturally guess when each thing is paining him. It upsets her to realize that her hands are not solid enough to sooth the hurts, and gladdens her when he assures her companionship is taking his mind off things a bit, before – incomprehensibly – she looks miserable again. She swears like a sailor and would probably fart in her sleep, were she not an incorporeal being with a transmutable form not in need of traditional rest.

She’s the most beautiful creature he’s ever seen. Nevermind he can’t really see her; Jamie just knows. Her hair is one large amorphous cloud of curls and she stares at him with such unspeakable sadness and makes a little humming noise when she’s at rest, like the singing of a hundred little stones. And there is a soft sort of buttery halo around her, which was enough to stun him into silence at their first meeting and has become oddly soothing now, enough that he gives her that silly little nickname, and he’s lonely, something feckin’ awful.

It’s not like he’s not self-aware. Problem is, now she might be gone forever, and it’s all his fault.

He keeps playing it over and over in his head. He might’ve been a little churlish, sure – he was tired from his early lecture, he’d kept his contacts in too long, the anniversary of Da’s passing was coming up on Friday and Jenny kept insisting that he ought to come for a visit …

That was it, wasn’t it? Jamie didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to go home, and the Ghost in all her sort of sad floaty care for him snapped in the way of a brittle little twig. She had an awful temper sometimes. He’d heard her yell at the kitchen wall once when she found she couldn’t float through it.

“James Fraser,” she said in her posh little accent, “are you going to continue wallowing in this miserable fucking flat or are you going to get up off your arse and face the bloody world like a man?”

Jamie found this somewhat infuriating. He had left his flat, thanks very much – he went to class now, and he was making real progress in physio, and, well, sure, he’d turned down the lads the last few times they invited him out for a match, but maybe he’d go this time – there was no proof he wouldn’t! So it wasn’t feckin’ fair of her, to talk down to him so. Jamie refused to be called a coward in his own flat.

By a ghost, no less.

“It’s no’ like you ever leave either,” he’d snapped in response, the discomfort of being seen rankling under his skin and sharpening his tongue into something rude.

“I’m dead,” said the Ghost.

“Aye,” muttered Jamie mutinously. “Well.”

“Don’t be an arse.”

“Ye’d be fair lonely wi’out me here tae keep ye company, would ye no’?”

“I’d – read your books,” she defended, unbelievably. “You – you just – don’t you want a happy and vibrant life?”

“What do you think?” he picked up his books, which were strewn over the living room couch, for something to do.

“Well, I don’t know! You keep hiding!”

“I’m no’ hiding!”

“Yes, you are!”

“Mary, Michael and – why do ye care so much, ye irritating apparition!”

“I care because I bloody well have to!”

Had he not been so caught up in his own irritation, he would have noted the odd strand of desperation in her voice.

“Fine,” said Jamie, waving about An Introduction To Language And Linguistics, Third Edition with finality. “Well. I’ve plenty of reasons to be a homebody, ken -- right ones, real ones. But if that’s the case, then yer whole existence is sad.”

“I beg your pardon,” said the Ghost.

“Aye,” Jamie was really working up to something, he’d thought, “Ye clearly havenae anywhere else to be, hangin’ about this dump.”

“Where else would I bloody well go?”

“I dinna ken, do I?” He couldn’t see her properly – the details of her face were always a mystery, but now she kept glowing in and out of focus as a general ill emotion build within her in the far corner of the room, “as ye tell me nothing about yerself and spend half the day actin’ like a time traveller and the other half the day lookin’ at me like ye’re about tae cry! I don’t think I’m the one wallowing here, Sorcha, and at least my presence is wanted by the feckin’ landlord! No one asked you tae show up!”

Perhaps he had gone too far; something about the Ghost’s presence blanched, like he’d given her a true fright. Then, after an awful moment of strangulated silence … she snapped back.

It devolved pretty quickly from there. In between the mutual screaming, Jamie got the feeling that she would have thrown things, could she have gotten her incorporeal hands on them properly enough to harness physics.

At some point, he had run out of steam, stormed out, and slammed the door behind himself, intent on finally taking up the offer of rugby with his friends.

Too bad about the torrential downpour. Too bad Rupert tackles like a giant lout, and Jamie slid five feet on the grass before slamming down directly on his shoulder and popping it out of socket.

He sighs, miserably. The hospital room is cold, mostly because he remains so thoroughly damp; his hair is plastered to his forehead and his jeans cling to his legs. So much for going out and partaking in the wide human world like a man properly recovering from a year’s worth of back to back traumas. Hmph. Jamie sniffs and wipes at his glasses (smudged) with his free and un-dislocated arm. He supposes he is recovering, sort of. It’s been easy to miss, given how simple the Ghost has made everything feel, but he feels exceptionally more human now than he did mere months ago. Jamie of September would never have dislocated his shoulder, because he was too busy being depressed.

He squirms in place. He ought to go home and check on the Ghost. What if all the yelling caused her to simply vanish? What if she’s hiding from him, indefinitely? He doesn’t think Edinburgh local business bureau has any reliable sort of ghost hunting service listed on its website. When Angus stopped by to pick up Jamie’s laptop so he could at least get his readings done for class tomorrow via hospital room, he responded to Jamie’s possibly-deranged Ghost-related line of questioning with an honest, “I’ve looked everywhere, mate. Cannae see hide nor hair of any ghostly lassie. D’ye think she’s gone tae her sister’s, perhaps?”

Even if this were a helpful question, Jamie hasn’t any idea whether the Ghost has any siblings at all.

Shite. He groans. It’s bad enough the shock’s worn off, and his shoulder is starting to properly hurt now. He hangs his head and leans his forehead against his uninjured wrist, squeezing his eyes shut against the mess everything’s become. He’s still facing the ground with his eyes shut when the faint sound of heeled footsteps swells louder and turns the corner, entering the room with a neat swish of hospital bed paper and curtain.

“Mr. James Fraser, is it?” says a light, distinctly British female voice, evidently scanning over whatever chart they’ve got set up for him, “that’s a nasty glenohumeral dislocation you’ve got there. You wouldn’t have happened to be playing rugby in the rain like an idiot, would you?”

Jamie cracks his eyes open specifically to roll them. He doesn’t get very far: the doctor standing in front of him is a tall young woman, with a mass of thick, dark curly hair tied out of her face, wry laughing eyes and an upturned little mouth that makes it very clear they are both supposed to be in on whatever joke she’s trying to make. She has a slender neck, a very competent set to her brows, and could be described as somewhat twiggy in figure save for her wonderfully curved arse, which Jamie gets an unexpected view of as she leans over the chair in the corner to close the bed’s curtain properly.

Jamie unsticks his throat with a bit of effort. “Hm?” he says, very eloquently.

“I asked, are you feeling dizzy at all? Nauseous?”

“No, I feel fine. ‘Tis just my arm, Sassenach.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Between the dislocated shoulder and the woman in front of him it could really be anything that’s causing his complete discombobulation – enough to put his foot in it, it seems – but something about the tone and inflection of her sharp little question has Jamie’s head spinning more than the rugby tackle.

“Er – Doctor Sassenach, I mean. Or rather – jest Doctor, but I didnae mean it as an offense – it was just an observation. Granted, we’re in Edinburgh, so it wouldn’t – but I’m from – that is, my family, I grew up far North, so …” he trails off; she is now very industriously poking and prodding at his collar bone. Oh, right – he does remember her saying she was about to do that. “I meant no offense,” he concludes.

“No offense taken,” says the Doctor. She sounds like she’s on the verge of laughing, this time at him.

“Ye’ve got a very gentle touch,” Jamie says, like a right idiot.

“Thank you,” says the Doctor. “Now, I’m going to reset your arm – there’s nothing else for it, it’ll hurt like hell for a minute. But you’ll be alright Mr. Fraser.”

They go through the motions together; Jamie follows her instructions, marvels at how strong and precise she is with skinny arms and small hands, and only blacks out a little when his shoulder pops back into place.

“God,” he gasps, blinking. In front of him, the Doctor is looking over him with concern.

“Everything alright? How are you feeling?”

“A little bit like someone’s punched my lights out, I willnae lie.” She laughs, but her hands remain on him, gentle first on his chest, then neck, pushing him upright.

“An expected feeling,” she says. “Hold still a moment, I’m going to properly check you for a concussion.”

And before Jamie can protest that he’s fine, she has taken his chin in both hands and gently tilted his face up towards her, so as to better shine the little flashlight into his eyes.

It’s as if a giant multi-metric tonne train has slammed into Jamie at twelve hundred kilometers an hour. The nice Sassenach doctor is glowing like a firefly and eyeing his ramen with skepticism and asking him about knitting and crying and yelling and touching him so gently because now her hands can actually touch him and he knows her, he swears he knows her deep deep deep in some inner place inside of him and quite possibly he is in love with her, and maybe has been, forever.

Jamie comes back to Earth. She is making an altogether undignified face as she moves his chin back and forth and examines his reaction time. Her tongue sticks out a little. Bits of frizz have popped out of her ponytail and are decorating her hairline like a halo.

“Hi,” Jamie says breathily, like a fool.

She stills, and looks over to meet his eye, and for a moment they stare at each other like that, nose to nose.

“Hello,” she says.

Then she pulls away and marks something on her notepad; the interaction is all but over. Off to her next patient, probably. “Alright. Well, no concussion, from what I can tell. I’ll ask you to self-monitor, though, and I’ll prescribe you some pain meds for the shoulder. I’d go home and get some rest if I were you,” she hesitates, and in a curious sort of way adds, “is everything alright, really?”

“Fine,” says Jamie. “Only, just now I felt like I’d seen a ghost.” He laughs, and it’s an overall strangled sound, which can and should be forgiven. “Ye ever felt anything like that, Sassenach?”

She is halfway to the door already, and he’s sure she will call him a nutter on the way out, even if in that wry way of hers. But she stops. Turns back. Smiles at him – not quite radiant, nor tender, but curious and familiar.

“You know … I think I do?”

“Aye?”

“It’s Claire, by the way.”

He blinks. “Your ghost?”

“No,” and now she really is laughing at him. “My name. Dr. Claire Beauchamp. But if you must call me an outlander, James Fraser whose family lived in the North, then I suppose I am alright with that, too.”

She leaves Jamie grinning more widely than he has in months. He’s got the odd feeling that whenever he gets home, his flat will be empty. Strangely, this is not an upsetting premonition. He’s more concerned with somehow getting Dr. Claire Beauchamp’s phone number – and somehow, he’s pretty sure the Ghost would approve.

#i havent written jamieclaire in literal years so i hope the characterizations are ok #my truest beloveds actually. i missed them so much #outlander #jamie fraser #claire beauchamp #claire x jamie

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madame-mortician · 1 month

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So Sadako was trending on Twitter because of a meme, and people were joking about how Sadako would kill you without being near a TV and as a Ringu enthusiast I had to info-dump so here we are.

Everybody knows the iconic curse is that if you watch the video tape, a phone rings and you have 7 days until Sadako climbs out of a TV and kills you… Well, this isn’t actually the case. Sadako’s curse is actually only the tape part and the 7 days. The phone ringing was only if you were in Cabin B4, the reason for this was because that cabin was in the original location of the well Sadako died in. If you watched the tape anywhere else you wouldn’t get a phone call, but you still got cursed. As for the TV, the only person in the original films to die that way was Ryuji, and this was only because he was near the TV and Sadako is a “nensha” and used the TV to easily project herself to kill him. Every other time Sadako killed somebody, (which wasn’t even a lot) she usually just appeared. Now again, Sadako is a nensha so whenever she “appears” it’s usually through a TV monitor, but it should be noted that Sadako herself rarely actually appears, and usually her appearances are limited to the cursed video appearing on a TV screen. I mean, technically Sadako doesn’t ever actually appear since she’s always just a projection of herself, and she’s obviously dead so physically shes just a corpse… anyway. Sadako can kill people either way heartaches without the use of a TV, hell she doesn’t even need to be manifested to do so. Now, Sadako’s curse rules are very lenient as sometimes Sadako kills people who didn’t even watch the tape, or she just changes the rules whenever she wants. In the OG films the only way to save yourself was to copy the tape and show somebody else, but then this was stopped and in the latest film when you watch it once between every deadline you’re good, but then again, Sadako being Sadako she tries to stop you from doing this.

So to answer Twitter’s question, if you were cursed by Sadako and the only TV nearby was that one super high off the ground, Sadako wouldn’t give a shit and would either give you an instant heart attack without bothering to manifest herself, or would use literally any other device with an image (including photographs) to manifest herself. Hell, if you’re lucky, she might teleport you to a secluded location and kill you there. (I know the meme is just for fun, but I can infodump for fun so shhh, let me have this.)

#horror #slasher #Sadako #ringu #ringu 1998 #sadako yamamura #fun facts

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daddysbabygirlssecret · 1 year

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Dilucbff Tumblr was deactivated omgod I still found traces of my fav smut

te deseo cariño, boy, it’s you i desire ♡

POSTS

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

SUBMISSIONS

ARCHIVE

EARNED IT.

୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ synopsis: after receiving a call from your former college professor, you agree to meet up with mr. morax for dinner. you know, for old time’s sake…

୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ cw: age gap, oral (f), masturbation (m), bathroom sex, sir kink, pussy job, hints of the ‘fucking your college professor’ trope smut written by a minor dni if uncomfortable

୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ a/n: dedicated to my former hot physics dilf who makes me cream every time i see him in the hallways xoxo

“fuck, marry, kill…”

hu tao puts on a pensive face, twirling a loose strand of hair that had escaped the confines of her pigtails as she thinks.

“how about mr. ragnvindr, alberich, and kamisato?”

you rotate your fork around the steaming cup of instant noodles in your hand. “i’m marrying mr. ragnvindr, for sure.”

“what?” exclaims hu tao. “with those anger issues? that marriage would never last… no offense.”

you snort. “considering that this is a completely fake scenario, it’s fine. you said mr. alberich too, right? i’d fuck him.”

“and kill mr. kamisato?” hu tao inquires. “are you insane?”

“i always thought he was a bit stuck up,” you explain with a shrug.

“definitely. but i mean, he always wore designer brands and i literally never saw him without an obnoxiously large starbucks cup. you can’t tell me that guy wasn’t loaded.”

“okay, then i’d marry mr. kamisato, take his money, then kill him.”

hu tao throws her hands up, exasperated. “that’s totally cheating!”

“and this is a totally hypothetical conversation.”

your roommate’s eyebrows furrow as she pokes her tongue out in retaliation. hu tao was nothing if not childish.

“my turn,” you announce, setting your half empty cup of noodles down on the coffee table, next to the tv remote. it’s been long forgotten, along with the netflix series the two of you had been immersed in only minutes prior, now serving as background noise.

if only you and hu tao didn’t have the combined attention span of a goldfish…

hu tao squeals, delighted that you’ve chosen to indulge her silly game starring your former college professors.

“fuck, marry, kill…”

your roommate hugs her knees closer to her chest, excitedly.

“mr. morax—”

she visibly deflates, shoulders falling dramatically. “definitely kill.”

“i wasn’t even finished! and that was a little too quick.”

“not my fault,” scoffs hu tao. “he was the professor i hated most, without a doubt. he was just so… boring.”

“are you kidding? he was so hot!”

she makes a face. “easy for you to say, you were always his favorite.”

a stupid grin appears on your face. “probably my greatest achievement in life.”

“what could you possibly see in a 40-something year old man who talks like he’s in a shakespearean play?”

“clearly you have no idea what a dilf is.”

“he was a fucking buzzkill, that’s what he was. he would always try and get me to shut up in his class.”

“god, i would gladly let that man shut me up.”

she tosses a pillow at you. “ew. if that’s your way of saying you wanna suck his dick, i’m never talking to you again.”

“you should start looking for a new roommate then.”

“gladly. hopefully my new one isn’t a dad fucker.”

just then, your phone rings.

you’re hesitant to answer once you get a good look at the number, mysteriously registered under unknown caller. however, you’re certain it’s better than bickering with hu tao. you tap the green button and begin the call.

“good evening. do i have the correct number?”

the speed at which the caller begins the conversation, not giving you the chance to so much as give a greeting, makes your eyebrows furrow in confusion. “depends on who you’re looking for, i guess.”

they sharply inhale. “ah, it is you. i could recognize that voice anywhere.”

“okay, creep. who exactly is this?”

they chuckle. “this is mr. morax speaking. your ancient history professor. well, former professor. it has been quite a bit of time, hm?”

everything clicks. the deep timbre of their gruff voice and the formal speech all makes sense. this was the hot dilf in question. in any other case you would have been able to identify his voice with a quickness but what were the chances that your attractive professor whom you had been discussing (rather lewdly) moments prior gives you a call, weeks after you’ve graduated?

“oh! mr. morax, i’m so sorry, i had no idea it was you. guess it really has been a minute.”

hu tao’s eyes widen as she shuffles closer to you, whisper-shouting, “is it actually him? get out!”

you press a finger to your lips, effectively shushing her, trying to focus solely on mr. morax’s words.

“you weren’t anticipating my call, i understand.”

“n-no, i really wasn’t,” you chuckle, though it comes out more like a breathless giggle. it’s embarrassingly girlish, reminding you of a schoolgirl with a crush. you assume, to some degree, that’s what you are. “oh my god, i just realized i called you a creep. you totally aren’t! i just— you caught me off guard!”

he chuckles once more and this time you bask in the huskiness of it. “ever the outspoken girl, hm? being well accustomed to history has allowed me to understand that the things around us are ever-changing. it brings me comfort that you have yet to do so yourself.”

“i’m flattered,” you respond, strangely breathless. “um, that was a compliment, right?”

“of course. after all, i have always struggled to critique you. it seems as if i am only capable of singing your praises.”

“i really appreciate that,” you respond, cheeks warm. mr. morax had always been kind to you, however he was certainly laying it on heavy now. “looking back, though, i must’ve seemed like a total teacher’s pet.”

“a claim like that wouldn’t be completely false.”

“oh?” you choke out.

“which brings me to the purpose of my call. i trust that by now you are well aware of… my favoritism towards you. fondness, even. hell, i’m certain you were able to decipher that back when you were my student, too.”

somehow, hearing his use of an expletive is even more shocking to you than his blunt confession.

“however, i doubted that pursuing a student would be considered ethical on my part and i was left with no choice but to anticipate the opportunity to present itself. and it did. while i was sifting through some papers, i happened to stumble upon one of your old essays regarding trade and economy in ancient rome – phenomenally written, i must add.”

you can’t find it within yourself to bask in the compliment – you knew exactly where this was going.

“yet, i couldn’t help but notice that on the back you had written your phone number. it must have escaped my view the first time around.”

“god, mr. morax–”

“please, call me zhongli.”

“zhongli, i apologize. it was a dare, a really embarrassing one, looking back.” you shoot hu tao a glare – after all, it was her idea.

“i see. should i not have made this call then?”

you chew your bottom lip. “well… i’d never say no to hearing from my favorite professor.”

he chuckles softly. “then you wouldn’t be opposed to indulging this favorite professor of yours and joining him for dinner sometime, correct?”

at this point you can feel your heartbeat in your throat; you can only hope that he can’t hear it through the receiver. “of course not, dinner sounds… great.”

“does tonight work for you? i hate to overstep but i am rather anxious to see you.”

you smile fondly, ignoring the way hu tao punches your arm like it owes her money. “i would love that.”

it was an understatement to say the wanmin restaurant was out of your comfort zone. you felt uneasy just sitting in such a lavish building. skimming through the menu as you waited for your equally luxurious date did nothing to calm your nerves, as everything seemed well out of your budget. you suppose that surviving off of instant ramen and delivery pizza all throughout your college career makes you a bit too frugal. but on the other hand, who the hell pays an arm and a leg for caviar?

“i suggest the slow-cooked duck. the flavor is unimaginable.”

you jolt before peering over your menu at the 6’1 man who has, somehow, slid into the seat opposite of you without a sound. with a hand over your racing heart you ask, “when did you get here?”

zhongli is wearing a smug smirk, complete with an apricot tinted turtleneck and bronze blazer. the specs that sit on the bridge of his nose do nothing to dim the radiance of his marigold eyes – they’re just as dazzling as you remember. “no more than a minute. i simply wished not to intervene. after all, you seemed awfully immersed in your menu.”

who knew that sarcastic humor was right up zhongli’s alley?

you roll your eyes, playfully. “that’s only because my pockets hurt just from looking at it. but, you know, i’m starting to get the feeling that you enjoy startling me.”

“oh?” he rests his chin in the palm of his hand, lips curved upward. “what gives you that impression?”

“that shit-eating grin on your face.”

he chuckles, amused by your bluntness. “how is it that you have a dirty mouth yet such a sweet face?”

you actually shiver.

“and in regards to the cost, please do not fret. it would be my pleasure to cover it all.”

you begin to shake your head. “i couldn’t possibly let you–”

“it’s truly the least i could do. after all, did you not dress up so nicely tonight? just for me?”

his eyes rake over your face – silken locks of hair so tidy; soft makeup embellishing your darling face. he hopes you don’t notice his eyes flitting down to your tits, sitting prettily in your low-cut babydoll dress.

“surely that deserves to be rewarded, no?”

you can only nod, dumbly.

satisfied with your response, he murmurs, “that’s a good girl,” before picking up his menu at last and glancing through it.

pressing your thighs together you realize that it’s going to be a long fucking evening.

throughout the course of your dinner with zhongli, your feelings for him become less of a simple infatuation and more of a fully fledged crush. you realize that he’s the complete package – witty but sophisticated, intelligent but humble, flirty but classy.

the only problem seems to be that he’s hot as fuck and not in your pants.

it doesn’t help that his voice sounds so incredibly seductive as he recounts one of his trips to rome to you in eloquent detail. you’re positive that hearing anyone else talk about what type of stone the colosseum is made of would bore you half to death. now, however, it’s never sounded sexier.

your phone buzzes, interrupting both his explanation and whatever trance his voice had you in. the caller id tells you it’s none other than hu tao who surely wants a juicy update on your hot date.

“seems as if you’ve been saved from my rambling, hm?” chuckles zhongli. “right as i was to discuss the brilliance of the colosseum’s freestanding concrete structure. tch, what a shame.”

you can’t help but giggle. “don’t worry, i’ll be quick.”

“no need. i will tend to the bill as you take care of your phone call, then we can leave.”

once he’s off to seek a hostess, you’re left to deal with hu tao. as soon as you press the answer button, her voice is booming in your ear.

“fucking finally! what took so long?”

“keep it down,” you mumble, trying to be mindful of the people around you. “i bet everyone in here can hear you.”

she scoffs. “we wouldn’t even be having this conversation if you’d just listened to me. all i asked for was regular updates!”

“and what’s your idea of regular?”

“like, every ten to fifteen minutes.”

“yeah, i’m not doing that. listen, you’ll never believe where i am.”

“mr. morax’s bed?”

“no, idiot. wanmin restaurant.”

“bitch, no way! don’t only rich, old men go there?” she snorts. “i guess mr. morax fits the criteria.”

“shut up,” you respond. “he’s lovely, i’m having a really nice time.”

“i bet everyone thinks you’re his… female escort or something.”

“at least that’d mean i get to fuck him. he’s been seducing me all night. it’s torture.”

“oh, is it?”

you’re not sure if zhongli’s voice has somehow become even deeper or it’s simply the fact that he’s right behind you, his proximity only amplifying the tone of his thick voice.

you somehow manage to hang up on your call but apart from that, you feel utterly frozen in place.

placing a slender hand on your shoulder, zhongli murmurs, “in that case, we should get a move on. it has come to my attention that we have some pressing matters to attend to, do we not?”

you clumsily stand, feet tripping over each other. “y-yeah, let’s get out of here.”

“oh, my dear, we aren’t leaving. it seems i’ve denied my favorite girl for too long. tortured, some would say.”

having your own words tossed in your face makes your face warm. “then, uh, where are we going?”

he flashes you that smirk again. with his arm, which still has yet to leave your shoulder, he leads you away from your table and the main hall of guests. you allow him to guide you, feeling none the wiser until you enter a secluded hallway.

at the end of it? the men’s bathroom.

as you approach, the bathroom attendant – a guy in a white collared shirt and black bowtie – fixes you two with a quizzical stare. (who even has those? you swear this place is too fucking fancy for you.) before he can say a thing, zhongli takes out a wad of cash and hands it to him.

“ensure that nobody enters.”

he glances between the both of you, eyes widening as he puts two and two together. his cheeks go red and he nods in understanding.

zhongli chuckles at his discomfort. “however, you may listen if you wish.”

fuck.

zhongli’s lips never leave yours as he hoists you onto the sink. the glass of the mirror manages to cool some of your exposed, flushed skin – you’re certain you’re running way too hot right now. his hands begin to roam your body, fondling your tits and giving them a loving squeeze, before running down to your hips then back up again.

“i had to repress the urge to do this out there, where everyone and anyone could observe.”

“you should’ve,” you respond, fingers tangling in his hair as he trails his lips along your neck. “we could’ve put on a show for everyone.”

“they should consider themselves lucky simply to be within your presence.” giving your collarbone one last kiss, he sinks to his knees. “i know i am.”

zhongli is someone held to high regards. well-respected and important. the sight of such a man kneeling on the tiles of a bathroom floor just for you sends you reeling.

his hands snake up to the hem of your dress. he grips it. “may i have a taste?”

you nod, grabbing the material and moving it out of his way.

his eyes soak up the sight of your smooth thighs, so supple and soft. however, it’s not long before his gaze zones in on your panty-clad center. then, he looks back up at you. “say it. tell me you want me to eat this sweet cunt out.”

“zhongli—”

“sir. call me sir.”

“s-sir, please eat me out.”

he wastes no time, tearing your panties down your legs haphazardly. with equal inelegance, he stuffs the fabric into his pocket. spreading your legs apart as far as they can go, he takes a moment to admire your sopping folds — glistening and puffy — as well as your throbbing bundle of nerves.

“it’s rude to stare,” you mumble, clearly flustered.

“then allow me to worship you instead.”

with that, he dives in, eager tongue meeting your sensitive flesh. he makes a languid stripe down your slit, reveling in your essence. your entire body stiffens as soon as he makes contact with your cunt.

“so tense,” he mumbles. “is someone feeling anxious?”

“it’s just that… y-you’re my–”

his tongue dips into your pulsating hole and you groan, losing your train of thought.

“you were saying?”

you have to fight back an eye roll. “professor. you’re my professor.”

“not anymore, little girl. i have been patient. i was left with nothing but my fantasies and my fist for the longest time.”

you feel his warm breath ghosting over your twitching clit.

“so, i beg of you, allow yourself to savor this pleasure along with me.”

his lips attach themselves onto the sensitive bundle of nerves. he alternates between licking and suckling at it, leaving your legs shaking and mind fuzzy.

“f-fuck,” you sigh, hips bucking against his face.

you hear – no, feel – him grunt. “that’s it… use me. you’re doing so well.”

the praise only encourages you to truly let loose. after all, you were never one to let down your favorite professor. as zhongli continues to lap at your cunt like a man starved, you sit back and take it – or at least, try your best to do so.

your hands grip the counter with a strength that makes your knuckles go white and every so often your legs will twitch, threatening to close in on zhongli’s head. however, he never falters, continuing to bring you towards your climax with his skillful tongue. that is, until a particularly pleasurable stroke of his wet muscle causes you to jolt, feet kicking upwards and consequently brushing over something… hard.

glancing down, you notice the problem in zhongli’s pants. even through his slacks you can tell that his neglected cock sits heavy and leaking against the strained fabric.

“sir… are you alright?”

“oh, this?” he runs a hand over his engorged cock and bites back a hiss. “it’s nothing, dear. a small price to pay for your unabashed pleasure. though, if you’re truly concerned, there’s a simple fix, really.”

the sound of a zipper opening makes you lean forward in anticipation. you watch carefully as zhongli takes his member in his hand. you expect him to be gentle, like how he handled you, however the way he tugs at his cock is anything but. there’s a desperate urgency in the way he wraps a tight fist around his shaft, dusted a pretty shade of pink and gives it harsh, undisciplined strokes. you have to press your thighs together when you notice how zhongli’s thumbs briefly run over his sensitive, leaking tip. the fat pearls of precum that roll down his veins make your mouth water.

“let me return the favor,” you nearly beg, beginning to push yourself off the sink.

he holds you in place. “i’m afraid i’m not done with you yet.”

with one hand on your thigh and the other wrapped around his cock, zhongli continues eating you out. you don’t even protest; who are you to deny him pleasure? if the choked back moans he would consistently let out were indication of anything, he was faring just fine between your legs.

those aren’t the only sounds coming from him, though. the combined slurping of his wet lips on your drooling pussy and slick sounds of his dick fucking his fist is loud enough to make you whine.

“does it feel good?” he asks and you nearly smack him on the head. good was an understatement. you were going to squirt all over his face if he kept it up.

“i should be a-asking you, sir,” you respond, attempting to be teasing although you know zhongli still has the upper ground.

“i confess,” he begins, “this would not be the first time that i indulged in such perverse pleasures with you as my muse. however, it is certainly the best. my shameful fantasies cannot compare to the true taste and view of your divine cunt.”

“i promise it feels even better,” you mumble, legs knocking together.

“was that an invitation?” he inquires, a teasing lilt in his voice. “how kind of you, dear.”

he rises to his full height, forcing you to crane your neck just to get a proper look at him. you had made the mistake of getting used to the sight of him on his knees; now that he’s standing in all his glory you’re reminded of the certain power and grace your former professor holds. your eyes flicker down to his hardened, angry cock, clearly left unsatisfied.

“it’s rude to stare,” he teases, throwing your own words back in your face.

before you can think, you return the quip. “last time i checked it’s rude to jerk off to your student too.”

and then you see it.

his cock fucking twitches.

“oh?” you gulp, less nervous, more intrigued. “does… the professor like getting off to the pretty girls in his class?”

he growls, gripping your legs and sliding you towards him – or more specifically, his aching cock. rubbing his engorged tip on your slit, he answers, “no. just you.”

with that he begins moving his hips, gliding his fat cockhead between your delicate lower lips. with every thrust, he deliberately angles his tip to rub deliciously against your throbbing clit. the knot in your stomach tightens just from watching how he humps you like a dog in heat.

but, how can you blame him? the warmth and wetness your pussy provides him with is unimaginable – and he hadn’t even fucked you yet! every time he sees your cunt clench he can’t help but wonder what you’d feel like from the inside.

“may i…” he groans. “may i put it in?”

“please,” you squeak, squeezing your thighs.

you begging him to slip inside as you hold yourself open for him so pliantly, so eagerly, allows no thoughts in his head. only the primal urge to fuck.

so, he does, guiding his heavy and, thanks to you, slicked up cock to your awaiting hole. he tries to take his time and allow you to adjust but it’s truly a test of his patience. who would have thought that a pretty pussy like yours would be what broke his resolve?

he hisses. “you… fuck, you’re clamping down on me like a vice.”

“s-sorry, sir,” you apologize, eyes glued to where you and zhongli meet. “s’just big.”

“no. you’re simply tight beyond compare. this pussy is… good.”

you whine, unsure whether it was due to the praise or the way zhongli has begun to drag his cock through your gummy walls. he can’t go more than a couple thrusts before you clench down on him.

“darling, i need you to touch yourself.”

his command makes you shiver but you do as you’re told. zhongli’s gaze is heavy on you as he watches your dainty hand snake down your torso to where you and him are connected. tentatively, you begin to massage your neglected clit. the relief causes your body to slump and you sigh at the pleasant sensation.

“that’s it,” he encourages. “i can already feel you soaking me.”

you choke back a garbled moan in response, rubbing harsher circles on your abused bud. it’s almost too much for him — the way your eyes roll back and generous amounts of slick coat his rock hard length, which is still buried snuggly within your hot, wet walls. it seems you’re hyper-aware of it as well as you begin to rock back and forth, hips chasing the feeling of his cock splitting you open.

“this is precisely how i imagined it,” he confesses. “how i imagined you. so pretty and docile beneath me. allowing me the privilege of granting you well deserved pleasure.”

at last, he begins to rut into you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. the gentle adoration in his eyes rivals the brutal thrusts he delivers to your cunt.

“you will never know how many times i imagined your sweet cunt wrapped around my cock. how you would whine and cry out for me as i hit all your sweetest spots. just. like. this.” he accentuates every word with harsher, pronounced plunges into your leaking hole.

“please, ‘s good, sir,” you moan. “better than i imagined.”

“oh, it appears i’m not the only one who’s been a bit depraved. is this what you would think about when you played with yourself?“

you nod, frantically, rendered unable to speak as zhongli brushes your hand away from your pelvis and takes the liberty to begin flicking your clit.

“ah, i can picture it so clearly. you’d return to your dorm after a long, hard lecture from my class, so worked up, so needy. you’d more than likely have to toy with your fragile clit for a while before you could take any of your pretty fingers.”

your eyebrows furrow slightly but zhongli takes notice.

“oh? what’s the matter? is my narrative incorrect?”

“i didn’t… use fingers,” you correct, face practically on fire.

he connects the dots and his hips involuntarily stutter as the lewd image of you fucking yourself on a faux cock embeds itself into his mind.

“thought of you every time,” you add, breathlessly.

he doesn’t respond. he can’t. he simply fucks into you faster, hoping to compensate you for all the time you wasted on pathetic silicone toys. the squelching sounds that fill the room are obscene and borderline pornographic. there’s a certain desperation in the both of you — the way you claw at his shoulders and torso, attempting to get stability wherever you can find it and the way he relentlessly abuses your clit, pinching and tweaking at it as he attempts to bring you to climax.

“sir, i need to cum,” you plead. “please can i cum?”

“begging suits you,” zhongli responds, suppressing a grunt as you tighten up around him. it’s fucking perfect.

“please, i’m gonna— fuck, so close,” you chant, nails digging into his forearms.

“let go,” he encourages you. “allow me to feel how heavenly this pussy is when it cums.”

he delivers a harsh slap to your clit and it does you in. you nearly sob as he slows his thrusts down, allowing you to ride out your high — though he’s sure he couldn’t move if he wanted to with the way your walls squeeze down on him.

it seems as if the pulsing of your cunt and the sight of your plush lips gaping as you struggle to catch your breath has brought him right to his own climax. he pulls out but makes sure his cock is close enough that his release can spurt all over your pretty pussy, decorating it in thick, creamy streams.

you and zhongli share a groan, watching as his cum drips down your folds and thighs. but, ever the gentleman, he only permits himself to admire his handiwork for so long before he’s grabbing paper towels from the dispenser and cleaning you up. once he’s done, he offers you his hand, which you gladly take, to help guide your sore body off the counter he had you folded on for the past hour.

“that was fucking incredible.”

“i concur.”

“could i, uh, get my panties back, though?”

“oh… of course.” he sheepishly reaches into his pocket and hands you back the soiled material.

“in any other case i’d let you keep ‘em but this dress is pretty short. i don’t wanna flash any of those rich snobs out there.”

he chuckles at your bluntness before clearing his throat. “i would like to thank you for accompanying me this evening. it was wonderful.”

“same here. and not even just… that part. dinner was really nice, too.”

he smiles warmly, rubbing his neck. “i was wondering if perhaps… you might be interested in coming home with me? i understand the irony of requesting such a thing after having slept with you, however, i find myself longing to spend more time with you–”

for the third time in the span of a day, your phone buzzes. you really do need to remember to put it on silent.

you wince. “i hate to kill the mood but… can i take this?”

he nods in understanding as you dig through your purse. the caller id belongs to your roommate but are you really even surprised? reluctantly, you answer.

“what, hu tao?”

“so cranky,” she coos. “is it because you haven’t gotten dicked down yet?”

once again, her volume makes you cringe. you glance at zhongli, praying he hadn’t heard her vulgar comment. yet, the way he chuckles then attempts to cover it with a fake cough tells you otherwise.

“do you need something?”

“yeah, an update!”

“why can’t you be normal and just text me?”

“well, to be honest, i was hoping to catch you mid-fuck.”

her crude words make you groan in embarrassment. however zhongli doesn’t seem bothered, instead, he gestures for you to give him the phone. despite being unsure, you hesitantly hand it over.

“i’m afraid you’re about five minutes too late, miss hu tao.”

you hear a shriek followed by incoherent yelling. you can’t tell if she’s excited or pissed that you hadn’t told her sooner – with hu tao it could really go either way – but you don’t really feel like dealing with it now. you snatch your phone out of zhongli’s hand and hang up.

“so,” you drag the word out, “are we going back to your place?”

his eyebrows dart up. “you truly wish to?”

“well, there’s no way i’m going back home to,” you motion to your phone, “that.”

he opens the bathroom door, holding it open for you. “understandable. but don’t you think she does deserve some credit for helping us… get together? had i not overheard your conversation, i would have never known how you felt. perhaps you should thank her.”

“trust me, zhongli, she would never shut up about it. don’t you remember how she was in your class? now, imagine living with that.”

he grimaces. “ah…” entwining your hands together he gives you a slight grin, “i do suppose ignorance is bliss.”

zhongli smutzhongli x readergenshin smutgenshin x readermorax smutrex lapis smutzhongli imaginegenshin imaginemy writing ⭐️

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whisker-biscuit · 3 years

Text

The Birds, The Bees, and The Bottles

Fandom: Psychonauts

Rating: T for mild language and discussions of underage drinking

Summary: Two teens are caught trying to sneak into a bar. Bob finally has a conversation he’s held off for far too long.

Because herbaphony is not the only thing that runs in the Zanotto family.

-------------------------------------

Bob’s phone rang at two in the morning. Judging by the jolly ringtone of Helmut singing Strawberry Fields Forever, it was his personal phone instead of his work one, and that was the real tip off to things being very, very wrong.

He woke up and groggily pulled out of his still-slumbering-husband’s arms to answer the little thing going off on his nightstand.

“H’lo?”

“Bob!” Truman’s voice came out far too loud for the time of night, and far too stressed. “Bob, I’m so sorry to wake you, but something happened with Lili. I need you to pick her up for me, please.”

The older man sat up, much more awake as worry and fear immediately rolled in his gut. Helmut finally began to stir beside him, sensing his partner’s agitation.

“Truman, what’s going on? Pick Lili up from where?”

“The city’s police precinct on Abbey Avenue. She – she called me, but I’m out of state and I wouldn’t get there for hours at least even if I left this instant. She’s not in danger!” He added hastily, hearing the concern before Bob could even voice it mentally. “She didn’t get hurt! She’s just…”

The way he tapered off, the way he hesitated, said more than words could.

“She just got herself into some trouble, and she needs someone to go get her.”

Helmut was sitting up now, and Bob felt the question cross their mental link.

What happened?

Truman needs me to pick Lili up from the police station.

“I’m up, I’m on my way right now,” He responded to his nephew verbally, heaving himself out of bed. His husband followed suit despite still looking extremely puzzled, bless him.

“Thank you so much, Bob. I’ll make it up to you as soon as I can, I promise.”

“Don’t worry about it.” The older man waved a dismissive hand even though Truman wasn’t there to see it. “Family is s’pposed to do that for each other anyway.”

“Did I hear that right? Our peppy petunia had a run-in with the law?” Helmut asked as soon as his partner hung up. He paused, and in a lower tone – “she didn’t kill anyone, did she?”

“I don’t think it’s that serious,” Bob said, pulling a coat on over his sleep shirt. “But something tells me we still have a few things to worry about. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Ohohoh, no, don’t even think about hoofin’ it without me. We both know I’m the better driver.”

“Neither of us are very good drivers, Helmut.”

“Exactly! That little bit makes all the difference!”

The herbophanist sighed, charmed despite himself and the situation. “Alright, alright. Let’s not keep her waiting.”

The police precinct was nearly dead at this time of night. While it would’ve felt eerie to anyone else, Bob was grateful for the lack of people, and not just because he was still an introvert of the highest degree.

Two teenagers awaited them in the lobby, sitting on a bench together. One was hunched over and burning a hole in the ground with his downcast eyes. The other sat straight up, defiant, holding a glaring contest with the officer standing over them. When Bob entered the room first and met his great-niece’s eyes, her self-assuredness wavered for a brief moment. She hid the slip-up behind a wall of indifference.

“Lili,” he said softly. Then, just as softly but with a gruff tinge of surprise; “Razputin.”

There was no accusation in his voice, but the former scowled harder and the latter looked like he wanted to employ his invisibility. Bob studied them both a moment before his husband appeared and broke the tension with his mere presence.

“We’re here to bust you out, kiddos!” He announced with spread arms, cheerfully ignoring the looks he received from every person in the room.

“Are you Truman Zanotto?” Asked the officer who finally broke his gaze away from Lili to give them a disapproving once-over.

“No, I’m uh, I’m Bob Zanotto, and this is Helmut,” came the awkward reply. “Truman called me to pick Lili up. She’s my great-niece.”

A few seconds of silence passed as the officer made no move to do anything with that information. Bob cleared his throat.

“We’re, uh, listed in her emergency contacts for school?”

“I see. If you can just fill out some paperwork first, we can release her into your custody.”

The herbophanist watched the way Raz seemed to sink further in his seat at the mention of family contacts. The Aquatos were also out of state right now too, if he remembered correctly. Perfect timing for two minors getting up to mischief.

Well, up until they were actually caught.

“And…Razputin, too?” He asked, catching the teen’s startled gaze and giving him the mental equivalent of a thumbs-up.

The officer raised a brow. “Is he related to you, too?”

“Well, uh –”

“Yep!” Helmut interrupted, strolling right up to Raz and giving him a merry clap on the back. The teen had a physique comparable to most adult Olympic athletes, but even he nearly toppled forward from the force of such a big man. “He’s my third cousin, twice removed. Big family. Very close. Holidays are an experience, lemme tell ya!”

“Fine,” the officer pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine, okay, I’ll make sure he gets cleared for release too. I’ll be right back.”

He stalked off, muttering something about it ‘being too damn early for this’, and the older couple turned to face Raz and Lili. Helmut steepled his fingers together to rest against his mustache.

“So! Now that Officer Spoil-Sport is gone, are we allowed to know what heinous crime has been committed in the night by my favorite pair of mischief-makers?”

The two glanced at each other. Raz was the one to break their silence.

“We, uh…got caught sneaking into a bar.”

Cold heat rushed through Bob’s core. Helmut blinked once, twice, then let out a boisterous chuckle.

“That’s it? Jesus! From the way you two were acting I thought you’d robbed the First National Bank.”

“…Helmut.” His husband murmured. The psi-king lost his mirth as he caught Bob’s eye.

“Ah…w-well, y’know, while I’m certainly glad we won’t hear about a righteous homicide in the news tomorrow, forgery ain’t exactly a humble hobby either.”

“It was just two IDs,” Lili muttered under her breath. “Not a big deal.”

The ice in her great-uncle’s heart turned frigid, but before he or Helmut could say anything to that, the officer was back. He shoved a handful of forms under Bob’s nose and the herbophanist fumbled to grab them before they all tumbled to the floor.

“Uh, uh, thank you.”

“Alright, we’re putting the pause on this conversation to make you free citizens again, but don’t think that means we’re done with it.” The Psi-King gave the teens the sternest look he could manage. “As soon as we get in the car, you two will have a lot of explaining to do.”

“O-Okay.”

“Uh-huh.”

------------------------------------

No one spoke a word as they got in the car and started the drive back.

Raz seemed content to continue his efforts to blend in with the background of his seat, still not meeting anyone’s eyes, and Lili stared out the window with her chin in her hand, leaning against the car’s backdoor and letting the lights of the city bathe her in neon sickness.

Helmut, bless his soul, dutifully kept the radio going while he drove, changing the station to something more mellow whenever a song started getting a little too upbeat for the collective mood of the vehicle. Bob sat in the passenger side with his arms folded awkwardly. His brain was buzzing, dreading the inevitable conversation he needed to have with his great-niece and trying to figure out how he was going to go about it.

It surprised them all when Raz spoke over the music.

“It was my idea.”

The two adults glanced at each other, then through the rearview mirror at the fidgeting teen.

“Your idea to go looking for a drink? Or to sneak into a bar to do it?” Helmut asked, turning off the radio.

“Both.”

He still wasn’t meeting their eyes. Bob sighed through his nose.

“I don’t believe you.”

Razputin’s head finally snapped up to stare at him in shock for the fast call on his bluff. “I’m telling the truth!”

“I think you’re only telling part of it, kid.”

“No! I’m telling all of it.”

“Razpu-”

“Oh, come off it, Raz,” Lili snapped a little too loud, making the whole car jump. “Quit trying to take the fall for me. It was my idea to try the stupid fake ID thing, okay? Happy now?”

“Wh – uh, who said anything about being happy about it?” Helmut asked, legitimately confused.

“Look. Neither of us had anything to do tonight, and we were bored, so Raz suggested getting a drink somewhere, but Adam and Lizzie are out of town so we couldn’t ask them.” She crossed her arms and spoke without any inflection. “So, we went out but no one would let us do anything cause we’re minors. I thought that was stupid, because we’re agents same as any of you, so I came up with the sneaking-in part. We only got caught cause one of the bartenders recognized Raz from a show.”

There were a lot of loaded things to parse through from that explanation, but Bob’s mind stalled on one particular detail.

“Adam and Lizzie give you two alcohol?”

“Not…often,” Raz admitted. “Just once or twice, when we asked.”

“Do you mean like, a literal once or twice, or a…an estimated once or twice?”

“Did Dad put you up to this?” Lili shot back. “It was just a few times, like he said. What’s with the inquisition?”

“…Lili –”

“Raz.”

“Okay!” Helmut proclaimed as he slapped his hand against the steering wheel in boisterous aggression. “Who wants some ice cream?”

Everyone stared at him, dumbfounded.

“Cause I’m really feeling some chocolate-vanilla swirl right now. Basic bitch style. Right? Who’s with me?”

Silence.

“Great! Look at that, open Dairy King right there, better take advantage of this opportunity before it slips through our fingers like the melting ice cream we’re all gonna have in about five minutes!”

The psi-king swung into the parking lot in a frenzy and herded the car crew inside before any of them could come out of their shock long enough to protest. It was only as Bob was staring up at fifteen flavors of oversaturated sugary goodness that he realized what had just happened.

He couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief over his husband’s diversion. The tension that had been boiling over was cooled significantly by the sudden non-sequitur, and while the teens were rather half-hearted about picking out their sweet treats, there was no longer a risk of an explosion happening.

Metaphorically and literally.

Helmut caught his spouse’s eye with a meaningful look at Lili the moment all of them had their orders in hand, then slung his arm around Razputin’s shoulders and steered him away. “C’mon my lad! Nothing like the cool night air of three in the morning to keep your Hurricane ™ properly chilled!”

The poor boy had no choice but to let himself be pulled outside, leaving the two Zanottos standing awkwardly in the dingy restaurant. Bob gave a nervous scratch at his chin under his beard.

“How about we, uh, find a seat somewhere?”

Lili couldn’t fully cross her arms while holding ice cream, but she did a good job of making it work anyway. “Sure.”

They sat in a booth in the farthest corner from the front counter. Both great-niece and great-uncle stared at their respective sweet treats as if they could teleport them out of this situation. Bob glanced out the window and saw Helmut and Raz standing outside of the car. The former was on one knee with his hand on the teen’s shoulder, speaking earnestly but inaudibly, and the latter was scuffing the toe of his sneaker against the asphalt.

“Are you going to lecture me?” Lili finally cut through the silence.

Bob turned back to her. “No. Not really.”

“No?” She broke her gaze away from her ice cream just a little bit, eyeing him with surprise. “Then why did Helmut take Raz and leave us alone?”

She was so perceptive, so smart. And yet, still so young.

“Well, I… I still want to talk to you about what happened. I’m just not very, good, at this kind of thing.” He took his spoon and absentmindedly began drawing a flower in his soft-serve. “You already know what you did wasn’t a good idea, right? So I don’t think a lecture would help things any on that front.”

She didn’t respond. He continued.

“It’s less about the fake ID and more…the reasons you made the fake ID. Does that make sense?”

“I guess so, but I know what I’m doing, Uncle Bob. I’m not going to drink irresponsibly.”

The herbophanist shook his head. “But you’ll do irresponsible things to be able to drink in the first place.”

“That’s not –” Lili didn’t have a good rebuttal. She folded her arms and grumpily started eating her cherry chocolate delight. “Whatever. It’s two different things, anyway.”

Against his better judgement, Bob began picking at his own food as he thought about how best to bring the subject back up without making the teen defensive again. Spoons clicking against teeth was the only sound between them for a solid minute.

Finally, an epiphany.

“Did Truman ever…tell you anything, about your great-grandma?”

The girl paused with a bite halfway up to her mouth. She frowned, confused. “Grandma Tia? Not much. Just that she died when he was a baby.”

“Yeah. Yeah, she did.” He ran a tired hand over his face. The ache in his heart might have long-since healed into a scar, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt when pressed. “She passed away when I was nineteen. The doctors told me it was liver failure.”

He didn’t have to say anything else. Lili’s mouth thinned and she put her spoon down, uncomfortable.

“When I…found out the reason behind her death, I was horrified by it. It didn’t make sense to me why she would willingly do something that hurt her so badly, especially when I was right there to love her and help her. It felt like a betrayal that she never got help or made herself stop. I was…disgusted by the mere thought of doing anything like that.”

Bob took a moment to breathe and wipe his eyes. He wasn’t crying, but better safe than sorry.

“It sounds pretty hypocritical when I say it now, doesn’t it?”

His great-niece only gave him a hesitant look.

“Anyway, uh, where was I…” He worried his lip. “Oh, right. I told myself that I’d never touch the stuff after that. I was angry at what she’d done, and I was determined not to have the same ‘weakness’, so to speak. As you know, it, uh, it didn’t last long. I was at a college party barely a year later when I was invited by some friends to drink with them. I didn’t make human friends very easily back then – actually, I still don’t – so I was a little desperate to keep them. It turned out to be pretty hard whiskey, so I got hammered.”

The man leaned back in his seat, staring at the patterns in the booth table.

“Back then, no one really knew how alcoholism could run in a family. Everyone thought it was a personal choice to keep drinking. It wasn’t even classified as an addiction yet. So I didn’t know how susceptible I was, or how careful I had to be. I’d spend months not having a single drink, thinking I was fine and could handle myself, and then I’d get plastered for a week at parties and bars and God knows what else, and it would take me even longer to get myself to stop again. It was like that even when I was with Ford and his gang. It wasn’t until I started dating Helmut that I started trying to change those habits. I’d never met anyone who loved me so unconditionally that I wanted to be a better person for them, until him. And it worked for a while.

“Well, barring our wedding, of course. I got shitfaced at the reception. It was embarrassing afterwards, but Helmut told me it made our cake-eating ceremony a hell of a great time.”

Lili snorted, and it was accompanied by a tiny upturn of her lips. Then it dropped as her expression became solemn. “And then…everything with Maligula happened, right?”

“Yeah. I think you know the rest of that story.”

“Uh-huh.”

Great-niece and great-uncle sat together for a while, just thinking about it all.

“I know I have to be more careful drinking than a lot of people, Uncle Bob,” Lili finally said at length. “My dad warned me about it when I was old enough to ask.”

“Truman is a good dad,” he murmured in response.

“The best dad.”

“Definitely the best dad.”

More silence.

“I didn’t mean to worry you and him,” she continued. “Or scare you. I know it was dumb to do what we did tonight.”

Bob looked at her, and she gave a conceding sigh.

“Okay, it was dumb to do a lot of what we’ve been doing with this stuff. That doesn’t mean I’m not being careful.”

“Kid, it’s not always just a matter of being careful. I thought I was being careful. I thought that for years and years, and when I finally realized I wasn’t, I convinced myself I could stop any time I wanted to, and kept up the same patterns anyway. That’s what I’m trying to get you to understand. I just don’t want you to make the same mistakes I did. I’m just worried about you.”

Lili closed her eyes with a grimace. “I know. I’m sorry, Uncle Bob.”

“Hey, kiddo, look at me.” He waited until she did so. “I’m not mad at you. I’m not disappointed, either. That’s your dad’s job. I get it, is what I’m saying. It gives you a buzz, and it’s fun and exciting, and you just wanted to have a good time with your, uh…”

Bob leaned in a bit, and dropped his voice to a stage whisper.

“Is Raz still your boyfriend?”

“Wha –” her cheeks went red. “Yes, he is!”

“Alright, sorry, I’m just always out of the loop. No one ever tells me when these things change or not. Anyway,” he continued before she could get brighter than the cherries in her ice cream. “I’m just saying that you gotta be more than careful with this kind of thing. Everyone should be, really, but especially people like us. Plants aren’t the only thing that runs in the Zanotto family, unfortunately, so we just have to be aware of it and act accordingly.”

The teen turned this over in her mind. He could practically see the gears moving. When she looked at him again, it was with a slow, contemplative nod.

“No more late-night bar-hopping?” Her great-uncle asked.

“No more late-night bar-hopping.” She answered, sincere.

“Good.” He looked outside. Helmut and Raz were both lying on the front of the car, pointing out stars to each other. The sight made him smile. “Come on, we’ll work on that whole thing about Adam and Lizzie giving you alcohol another time, when it’s not three in the morning. For now, let’s rejoin our boys again and go get some rest, okay?”

“Okay.” Lili slid out of the booth and tentatively took her family member’s hand. His fingers squeezed hers in reassurance. “And...thanks, Uncle Bob.”

“Well, what can I say. Us weird Zanotto plant people hafta look out for each other, right?”

“Right.”

They walked out together, hand-in-hand.

------------------------------

A/N: I knew from promotional material that we'd be going into the mind of someone struggling with alcoholism, but Bob's Bottles punched me hard in the gut. It's probably my favorite mind in the game, both because it's visually gorgeous and because it hit a little close to home with some of the themes, like generational alcoholism and how the addiction can make someone a shell of themselves.

I wrote half of this three weeks ago and then found myself really struggling to finish it because it brought up a lot of old feelings I thought I'd sorted through a long time ago.

Psychonauts, man.

#psychonauts 2 #psychonauts 2 spoilers #Bob Zanottto #Helmut Fullbear #Lili Zanotto #Razputin Aquato #Bob Zanotto/Helmut Fullbear #psychonauts

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bakubub · 3 years

Text

In which Racer!Kuroo is your roommate and you finally learn more about him...

Warnings: Mentions of loss of loved one, disregard for own life, swearing, innuendos and implied nsfw (but sfw overall), fem!reader with she/her pronouns.

A/N: Idek what this is. Its literally a 4.6 k mixture of fluff, angst and comfort... I rewrote this like 4 times :,) being a perfectionist is so,,, tiring.

This takes part shortly after this, you can definitely read this without reading the 'part 1' if you will, since they don't depend on one another.

Art belongs to @aikk00 ,, and yes I am still in love with it :D

I stumble out of the lecture hall, my eyes so heavy I bump into about 3 other students and mumble my apologies until I fully wake up and snap out of my daze.

Walking down the stairs and making my way to the bus stop, I watch in horror as the bus I was supposed to be in drives off, going fast for once in its damn life as if mocking me.

Inhaling sharply through my nose, I manage to keep my composure and sit down at the bus stop, telling myself the next bus will be here in a bit.

It's fine. It's fine. I slept through the lecture, and I still have to catch up on 4 subjects and make dinner, but at least the house is clean and I'm caught up in that one subject I picked up for this exact reason.

It's fine. It's going to be just fi-

The rumble of a loud engine breaks my shitty but somewhat effective self-reassurance motto and I open my eyes to see a black and red sports car going 60 km/h in a 30 zone, effectively getting mine and everyone else's attention.

I watched in horror for the second time today as this time it stopped right in front of the bus stop. No, no, no, no.

No.

Please no.

He rolls down the passenger window with that ridiculous hair and a shit-eating grin, as he nods towards the seat, revving his engine.

I look away, pretending he's not looking directly at me and that I don't live with the guy, which I immediately regretted when he beeped the fucking horn.

What did I do to deserve this humiliation?

I hastily put my head down as he beeped it again, giving up and rushing towards his insufferable car, getting into the passenger seat and slumping in my seat to keep my head down low.

"What is wrong with you? What are you even doing here?" I hiss, my glaring up at him from my awkward, folded position.

He laughs, and when I hear the sound of a photo being taken in the split second I looked away to readjust my bag, I sit up straight, watching him continue speeding as he stuffs his phone into his pocket.

"Are. You. Trying. To. Kill. Me?!" I ask, my voice little less than a screech as I slap his arm with each word.

"Ow, ow, I just came to pick my roomie up! I sensed you needed a ride, and this is the thanks I get?" he asks, that smirk I have come to hate returning to grace his features.

I glare at him, but a small, sleep-deprived part of my brain is distracted by his appearance. A tight black tee adorning his built figure, his biceps are on display as he drives with one hand, the other resting on the gear shift. The air from his rolled down window is ruffling his hair this way and that, and I find myself wanting to run my hands through the raven strands, just as I had when I washed his hair that one time...

"Wait- how the fuck did you know I didn't have a ride?" I ask incredulously, my reaction time clearly delayed but here nonetheless.

I narrow my eyes as he hesitates before he answers, "I just knew, ok? It's not like it’s astrodynamics, not that I can't figure that out too."

"Kuroo, what the hell is astrodynamics? Are you like, spying on me or something?" I ask, pretending to look out the window so as to not get distracted by his appearance once more.

"What do you common folk call it? Rocket science?" He says, once again exceeding the speed limit.

"If I'm a commoner, does that make you a peasant? Also, stop going so fast, I feel sick and I do not feel like dying today."

He rolls his eyes in response as he slows down by a smidgen, the speed meter barely even moving. "Seriously, you may have no consideration for yourself, but I still have a lot of things to achieve with my damn life so slow the fuck down." My words finally reach the rational part in him and he slows down considerably, now going within the speed limit.

Taking a deep breath, I rest my elbow on my door and look out the window, my mind flooding with thoughts about Kuroo's reckless driving and how it can all go sour with one delayed reaction.

Before I know it, we're rolling up to our apartment building, driving into his private garage only the penthouse owners get to use.

"I'm sorry," he mutters, filling the silence in the car.

"It's ok. I just... I want you to be safe. I know its hard, but... just try," I say quietly, unable to look at him.

"That's what he said," he says hastily before rushing out of the car before I can hit him.

Getting out of the vehicle myself, I send a murderous look his way and run after his retreating form.

A small part of me is grateful that he's acting like his usual unbearable self again, but the rest of me is just mad at his relentless sex jokes.

He hits the elevator button before I can get there and I watch the doors close, his smirk practically shining through the crack of the closing doors. I jam my foot in the middle at the last possible second, and smile victoriously as I get into the metal box and slap his arm once again.

"Ooh, do it harder," he practically moans, and my eyes just about pop out of their sockets in embarrassment as my face flushes a deep red.

"Oh shut up," I mutter, turning around and waiting patiently for the doors to open on the top floor. I hear him snicker and then the sound of a photo being taken, turning around sharply. I yell in defiance and throw my bag on the floor as I jump onto him in an attempt to grab his phone out of his hand and delete the probably unflattering photo.

I straddle his back and reach for the phone he easily holds out of my reach. Leaning across his shoulder in a feeble attempt to reach it, my feet are hooked around his chest and my other hand is using his shoulder as a brace. He's laughing hard at this point, and I'm screaming at him to give me the damn phone. Neither of us notice the elevator doors opening nor the small woman standing at the threshold staring at us in shock and amusement.

"Kuroo Tetsuro! You let that poor girl down this instant, young man!"

We both froze at the authoritative voice, slowly turning to look at a small dark haired woman with a straight shoulder length cut and narrow gold eyes that were glaring at the man under me.

"MUM!" He exclaims, setting me down and running to hug and kiss the woman, his mum apparently. "What are you doing here?" I hear him ask as I straighten myself out, fixing my jumper and tucking my hair behind my ears, picking up my bag off the floor and quickly following them out of the elevator.

"What, a mother needs an excuse to come visit her boys? Where's Kenma?" She asks, looking in the elevator again as if to check if she missed him.

"Oh, he's at his own place. Apparently he has a booked in session with this famous gamer today. Did he say he'd be here?" Kuroo asks, letting go of the woman and leaning on the wall.

"No, I didn't tell anyone I was coming to visit. Never mind that, who's this pretty young lady here, hmm?" She asks, raising a perfectly shaped brow as she walks towards me, the click of her heels echoing in the lobby of the penthouse.

I smiled down at her, since she was considerably shorter than even me, and introduced myself. "It's very nice to meet you, Mrs. Kuroo." I say, bowing.

"Oh no, no, none of that. You can call me mum too, hmm?" She says, gesturing me up from my bow and pulling me down for a tight hug.

"Oh, um, actually, me and Kuroo aren't-"

"We’ll talk more comfortably inside, no? Tetsuro, is your plan to let me stand here all day?” She asks, letting me go and turning around to look at Kuroo.

Kuroo leaps into action, taking his mum's bag and unlocking the door, helping her out of her heels and leading her into the spotless penthouse.

It was all I could do to nod in response, closing the door behind us and walking down into the kitchen to prepare a meal.

It’s crazy how much I don’t know about this guy. He’d never mentioned his mother before, and briefly mentioned that he has a sister, whether older or younger I have no idea. Kenma, however, I know well. The guy was here all the time when I first started living here, but recently I've seen him less and less. Which is a shame, considering we actually got along quite well, with sharing eye rolls and bonding over our mutual love of Minecraft.

I don't notice silent footsteps following me until Kuroo's Mother says "now, why's a beautiful girl like yourself slaving away in the kitchen? Does that boy make u do all the cooking and cleaning like some mid-century housewife?"

I poke my head out of the fridge, smiling at her fair assumptions, "no, no, it's not like that at all. I actually-"

"Uh, mum! You know I'm incompetent with this stuff. This place would be a mess if she wasn't here to run things! Plus, she loves to cook and finds cleaning therapeutic. Hey, her words not mine," Kuroo quickly jumps in, putting his hands up defensively when she looks at him with a raised brow.

Looks like he doesn't want his mother to know of our little arrangement.

"Right. He's just so hopeless, I can't trust him to do anything," I add on, sending her a smile as I prepare the fish he likes.

"You're making grilled mackerel for dinner?! Oh that's gonna hit the fu- the fun spot," he says, saving himself at the last second.

I hold back a snort as I take out a pan, "open the window, fish boy. It's about to stink here and I can't be bothered with Mrs. Suzuki coming all the way upstairs just to complain about the fish smell, and then complaining that she had to come up here in the first place. God, I hope she isn't sitting on the balcony today," I ramble, trying to see her balcony from outside the window, but fail because of the private location.

Damn these amazing architects.

I hear his mum chuckle at my rambling as she begins to take out ingredients for a salad. "Oh, you don't have to help, please sit and make yourself comfortable," I say, moving towards her to take the lettuce out of her hands.

"No, no, I'd like to pitch in. Now what kind of mother-in-law would I be to let you do everything yourself?" She asks, holding the lettuce away from me and walking over to the sink.

I stare at the back of her head, a flush creeping up my neck, "m-mother-in-law?!" I ask incredulously, glancing over at Kuroo who looked suspiciously... Smug. I look away quickly when he meets my eyes, and I hastily hyper-focus on the fish in front of me, placing it on the heated pan, causing sizzling and popping to fill the awkward silence.

"I'm sorry darling, I don't mean to be overbearing. Tetsuro introduced you as his girlfriend, so I thought things were getting serious since he actually allowed us to meet one another. You see, he’s never introduced me to a girl before, so you can imagine my excitement. I can stop if you're uncomfortable-"

I cut her off, feeling even more embarrassed as I realise the role I am to play in Kuroo's life when his mother is around. I mean, it makes sense, he can't exactly just admit he took a random girl into his house.

"I, um, no really it's fine, I understand" I say, my voice small as I flip the fish.

She lets out a delighted laugh and pulls me down into a hug once more. The smile on my face is genuine as my embarrassment melts away, the bright smile of this woman comforting me.

"So, how did you guys meet?" She asks, chopping up the ingredients for her salad on the bench while I'm at the stove, Kuroo leaning on his elbows on the bench.

"At uni," I answer at the same time as Kuroo states, "at a party."

We both look at each other with wide eyes, and I clear my throat to clarify, "at a uni party. A classmate of ours hosted one and we met each other there."

"I see, so the old boozed up one night stand turned into quite a domestic relationship hmm?" she suggests, wiggling her eyebrows at Kuroo.

"What? No, no, I would never! A one night stand? Booze? Please, what kind of man do you take me for?" Kuroo complains, looking offended.

I turn around towards the stove and roll my eyes. I've heard the rumours around campus, practically every girl in my lecture hall can testify to at least making out with the man. He really puts up a façade for his mum.

I hear the doorbell ring, and quickly take the fish off the stove to go answer it as Kuroo bickers with his mother about how innocent he really is.

"Hello? Who is it?" I ask, pressing the buzzer.

"Uh, hello? Is this Tetsu's place?" A deep voice answers. I look at the camera, seeing Kenma and a bunch of men about Kuroo's age looking confused. The one who answered is a guy with a blond mohawk and piercings adorning both ears.

"Yes, just give me a second," I reply. "Kuroo, I think Kenma and the rest of your friends are here? Should I let 'em up?" I shout out.

"Yeah let 'em in," he calls back. I press another button, letting them into the lobby.

I need to make more food.

Quickly taking out my frozen dumplings I stocked up for emergency dinners for days I couldn't be bothered to make anything better, I whip up a quick sauce, thinking I could split the fish and put it in the middle of the table so everyone can take their share.

"I do apologise darling, I let my Kenma know that I came to visit and he must have told the boys. I think they've all come to see me," Kuroo's mum confesses.

"You must be a very loved woman if they came all this way to see you. And it's no worries really, I'm always prepared for guests," I say, putting her at ease.

She beams at me as the door is banged loudly.

Kuroo mutters something about “rude assholes'' as he goes to open the door, a group of tall men making their way through the threshold.

"Hiya cap'ain," the mohawk guy says, patting Kuroo on the back. A tall, light brown haired man was next to greet him, then proceeded to exclaim "MUMMA KOZUME!!" and practically jumped onto the poor woman.

Wait, did he just say Kozume? Isn't Kenma's surname Kozume?

"Hey mum," Kenma greets, kneeling down to hug Kuroo's mum.

Who's mum is this lady?! I swear to god I'm going to go crazy.

"Hello hello everyone," A massive grey haired guy says, kissing Kuroo's mum on the cheek and hugging Kuroo.

The last guy to greet them is a tan guy with a buzz cut, and he does the same as his friend before.

"So Kuroo, when di'ja get yourself a girl, huh?" The grey haired guy asks, looking offended that he didn't know before now.

I raise my eyebrows as Kuroo just smiles guiltily. He introduces me to his friends and I wave hello, as they all begin to introduce themselves.

The grey haired guy says his name is Lev and that he's half Russian. A weird detail to include but interesting I guess.

The light brown haired man introduces himself as Yaku, and says that he was Kuroo's senpai back in high school.

"Yeah a demon senpai," Kuroo mutters in reply. My smile quickly turns into a grimace as Yaku jumps on him and they both start brawling on the floor, making a loud ruckus. A loud thumping can be heard from downstairs as Mrs. Suzuki starts to lose her mind and continues to bang the handle of her broom to her ceiling.

"Ugh, you morons upset Mrs. Suzuki! She's going to talk my ear off next time I see her..." I complain, grabbing a cushion and throwing it at the boys.

They flinch at my anger and quickly get up, muttering a quick apology. My glare softens as mohawk introduces himself as Yamamoto, and the tan guy says his name is Kai whilst vigorously shaking my hand.

"It's very nice meeting all of you. Dinner will be ready in a bit so please just make yourselves comfortable," I announce, making my way back into the kitchen.

The boys, all sporting grins, make their way to the living room and sit on the couches, man-spreading and slouching all over the place, one person taking up the usual spot for two.

I sigh, focusing on the dumplings in front of me.

I stiffen as I feel large hands on my waist, and a presence behind me. Visibly relaxing once I realise it's Kuroo, I turn around, his hands still resting on my hips, and his face nestled in the crook of my neck.

"Please just go along with it. We have to act like a couple if they're going to believe us," he mutters, his hot breath causing shivers to run up my spine.

I simply nod, instinctively placing my arms around his neck and running my fingers through his hair, something I've wanted to do since that day.

He groans into my neck, and I find myself holding my breath as I continue my hand movements.

"OI LOVEBIRDS! MUM SAYS THE DUMPLINGS ARE GONNA FUCKIN' STICK! Ow! Oh, sorry," I snatched my hands back from Kuroo, pushing his chest, my cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

What the fuck am I doing?!

I turn around back to the stove, mixing the dumplings in the boiling water as my thoughts race.

That felt too real, too much like a real relationship.

And way too addicting, apparently, since I already miss his close proximity.

The warmth on my waist disappears as I hear Kuroo running back into the living room.

"SHUT UP YOU MORON, THE DUMPLINGS ARE FINE!" I hear him scream, and then a loud thud as he presumably tackles whoever yelled at us to the ground.

I sigh as I hear Mrs. Suzuki's muffled thuds from downstairs in record time.

"You know I'm going to have to make Mrs. Suzuki some kind of apology cake because you boys can't sit down and act like adults," I complained, my arms crossed and an unimpressed expression on my face.

Lev and Yamamoto are on the floor playing some kind of Connect 4 game I've never seen before, while Kai looks to be having a deep conversation with Kuroo's mum, who is perched on the single arm chair like the queen she is.

Kenma is hogging the tv playing some kind of video game on Kuroo's ps5 (which I've hogged on more than one occasion), and Kuroo on the other hand has Yaku in a headlock.

He immediately lets go and apologises, and so does Yaku, who even bows in his regret.

I roll my eyes and shake my head at his mum, who just laughs, and I make my way back into the kitchen, setting food on the table and calling them in to eat.

After dinner, I find myself showered in compliments and not a bite of dinner leftover for tomorrow's lunch. Damn I'm good.

I served up cake I had already prepared from earlier along with fruits I washed and set on plates, and watched as that was eaten and finished before I even sat down. Kuroo's mum scolded the boys for poor manners, and they all apologised. Well, all except Kuroo, who just wiggled his pierced brows and winked at me.

I sit down on the floor next to the couch, since it was all occupied, and hear a dissatisfied sound coming from Kuroo's mum.

"Now, now, sweetheart. You don't have to be shy around me, just go on and take your usual seat next to Tetsuro," she says, nudging her head in Kuroo's direction, where the only vacant spot was literally his lap.

I look at her with wide eyes, even Kuroo seems taken aback by her suggestion, and all the boys are immaturely ‘oohing’ loudly as they laugh and make fun of us.

Kuroo makes a gesture for me to come next to him, so I hold back my heavy sigh, try my best to hide the flush on my face, and walk towards him, awkwardly perching on his knee.

He chuckles as he grabs my waist and pulls me flush towards his chest, my butt in the corner of the couch and my legs resting diagonally over his, so that my head is directly in the crook of his neck.

I hate to say it, but this is actually really damn comfortable.

Conversation has started up again, but it becomes secondary to the beat of his heart right under my ear, and my eyes start to get heavy as his scent and warmth lull me to a comfort that is beyond being awake and alert.

---

Kuroo's POV

"What a cute girl she is, Tetsu. I'm so glad you've found her. And now that you've got her, you better. Not. Let. Go." She says, slapping me on the arm with each word of her last sentence.

What is it with women and slapping me?

"Ok, ok, I know mum, I won't stuff this up. I promise," I respond, smiling at her.

"Ok, well, I'm staying over at Kenma's house. Ah, no objections. You've already got your hands full, and I don't want to be in the way of young love. Plus, I'd rather listen to Kenma's midnight streams than you two in the middle of the night," she says, not accepting my objections and giving me a knowing look. My face warms to what she's insinuating, and I mutter a quick, "it's not like that," as I duck my head into Y/n's shoulder.

By this time the boys have all left, Kenma's downstairs waiting in his car for his mum to come, but she insisted on staying back for a few minutes to talk to me.

Y/n fell asleep a while ago now, still nestled on my lap, her head on my shoulder and her figure keeping me warm.

"I know exactly how it is, my darling. I've seen how you two act, pretending to be in a relationship just so we don't ask any uncomfortable questions. I won't meddle in your life, I never did, Tetsuro. But I will give you advice I expect you to consider. Don't let her go. Neither of you were pretending about your feelings towards each other, let me tell you that much." She says, knowingly looking at me.

I look up in alarm, which quickly morphs into a nervous laugh. She's good, I'll give her that much.

But, can Y/n really mirror my feelings?

"Ok darling, better not leave Kenma waiting any longer. I'll visit again tomorrow, or you can come over to Kenma's, whichever you prefer as long as she comes along too. I want to get to know my future daughter-in-law better!!"

With that, the woman who took me in and treated me like her own left my home.

I look down at my roommate, taking in the way her lashes are long enough to brush against her face, the way her brows are just a tad bit asymmetrical, the stroke of her nose and the bend of her cupid's bow.

I can't help but bring my hand up to caress the side of her face, content to stay here forever.

Mum would've loved her.

This thought broke the dam that held back my tears since middle school, and as they fell down my face I couldn't help but think of my own mother, coming in and hugging her, making her famous pie that I can't remember the taste of anymore. A sob racks my figure and I all of a sudden find a pair of e/c eyes staring up at me, my tears having dampened some parts of her face.

Wordlessly, she straightens herself and wraps her arms around my neck, running her fingers through the back of my head, stroking down towards my nape and up again. I cry into her shoulder, tears that I've bottled up, emotions I've ignored because I've had my dad, my grandparents and the Kozume's. Later, I even had the team, and they all followed me to the racing gig, a place where I can express my emotions through the reckless driving that could claim my life any second. I should have been grateful. Instead, the pain of her absence never ceased.

I clutch the back of her sweatshirt as I cry and cry and cry, eventually tiring myself out and running out of tears.

With dry sobs still racking my body every few minutes, she finally leans back, cupping my face in her gentle hands.

"What's the matter, Kuroo?" She whispers, looking up at me with tears shining in her own eyes. "You can tell me anything, or you can say nothing at all. Either way, I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you," she says, touching her forehead to mine and closing her eyes. She stays here for a moment before moving to get up and drag me up too.

"Come on, let's get you into your pjs and into bed. It's getting late."

---

Your POV

Now in his usual shorts and singlet, I drag him to his massive bed, opening the neatly made bed and gently sit him down.

His hazel eyes follow me as I go to close the curtains, his lashes still wet from the countless tears he shed, his body still hiccupping with dry sobs.

Once I've put his blankets around him, I go to leave, muttering a goodnight as I leave.

"Y/n," I hear before I close the door. I peek my head in, "please stay."

Without a pause to think about his request, and already in my own pyjamas, I go next to him and crawl into his open arm as if I've been doing it every night, snuggling into his shoulder once more and wrapping my arm around his chest.

After a few moments of silence, he begins to speak in a raspy tone, "she's not my real mum. She's Kenma's mum, and I've... I've called her mum since I was around 7," he takes a deep breath before continuing. "I moved in with my dad and grandparents next door to the Kozumes when I was 6. I was nervous and shy back then. You wouldn't even recognise me because of the 180 turn my personality's taken. Kenma was even more social than I was. He was my first friend, and when I got him into volleyball and we met Coach Nekomata. That man inspired me to be the man I am today, and was the main reason why I joined the volleyball team in high school, and made friends with the guys. He did what my mum should've, supported me and gave me the confidence to live my life," he says, his voice cracking with the last word. I hug him tighter, knowing not to say anything as of yet.

"I just wish... I wish she didn't go. I wish she could've met you, Y/n. She would've loved you even more than Kenma's mum does," he confesses with a chuckle, sniffling and turning towards me to look me in the eyes.

"She would've seen the way I was around you. The different man I become. You make me a better person, Y/n. I find myself wanting to be better for you. I could never thank you enough for that. Please, never leave. Just stay with me, and I'll always be here for you," he says, repeating the same words I said to him earlier.

I can't help the smile from taking over my features and I lean in to kiss his nose, his eyes, his cheeks and finally I press my lips against his, something I have been wanting to do for a very long time.

"I will, Kuroo Tetsuro. I'll always stay with you."

A/n: So, I don't actually know if his mum passed away or if she left them, so I kind of just,, did both ?

Taglist: @3daa & @itsgiorgiaz

Notes, interactions and reblogs are highly appreciated <3

#racer!kuroo #haikyuu x reader #haikyufics #kuroo tetsuro scenarios #haikyuu!!#haikyu imagines #kuroo x you #kuroo tetsuro x you #kuroo tetsurou #haikyu angst #haikyuu drabbles #haikyu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu au #kuroo angst #kuroo comfort #kuroo fluff #kuroo au

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n0bamak1s · 3 years

Text

laughing gas - mai zenin x reader

request: “Mai Zenin x Fem S/o, where the s/o gets their wisdom tooth removed and confesses their love to mai acting all sweet and cute, mai then takes care of her s/o and confesses too, we can see mai being her bratty and confident self but when she is with her s/o she just lets her walls down” - @shockfirefly

summary: in the request! (genre: fluff, friends to lovers, slice of life, humor)

warnings: reader is high on anesthesia if that counts as a warning, swearing, mostly just tooth rotting fluff (literally!!)

word count: 2k

a/n: i really enjoyed writing this request! at this point i’m basically just a mai zenin stan account tbh but the requests for her are just so fun to write. i’m almost on summer break so hopefully i’ll be more active bc i have a few ideas i’m excited to write for!!

it seriously took everything in mai’s willpower to not immediately whip out her phone to film your groggy state the moment she stepped into the room where you had just gotten your surgery done. she stifled a laugh at the bandage wrapped around your head, vaguely reminiscent of the one noritoshi had worn following the exchange event. when your eyes flicker over to meet her gaze, you give what she can only assume is your attempt at a smile, but looks more like a dog caught eating its owner’s dinner, with your face all swollen and slightly flushed.

forget that willpower shit.

she shamelessly calls out your name, to which you respond like an eager little kid. “say cheese!” she gives you an uncharacteristically wide grin to signal you to mirror her actions. you seemed to not learn from your previous mistake and attempted to smile back at her, before immediately cutting yourself off with a muffled groan. she hardly bothered with hiding her giggle this time, but at the very least she had the decency to cover her mouth as she cracked up.

with an annoyed pout on your face, you huffed and turned to the nurse standing beside you, who you were apparently to loopy to notice had joined in with mai on giggling at your grogginess. “she’s so mean to me!” you said, though your tone had no real irritation to it.

“it’s just to send to utahime. she wants to make sure your doing alright.” mai lied straight through her teeth, though you seem satisfied enough with that answer as you started to push yourself up from the seat you’d been in. mai quickly rushed to your side, knowing you weren’t sensible enough at the moment to ask for her help. before you could stand up and inevitably wobble over, she looped an arm around your waist and moved your arm so it was slung over her shoulders.

“alright champ, let’s get going.” she tried to remain as nonchalant as possible with the close proximity, but unfortunately for her, you seemed determined to embarrass her as much as possible.

“well at least buy me dinner first, ya casanova!” you said (much louder than necessary, mind you). honestly, it wouldn’t be surprising to mai if you could be heard from the waiting room.

with an over enthusiastic wave from you and an awkward thanks from mai to the nurse, you guys set off on your way.

to be fair to you, it was surprisingly a relatively tame trip to the door, with you focusing on keeping your steps in tune with mai’s. you were too lost in thought to embarrass yourself until you had made it to the waiting room. you had rather innocently pointed out a small curse, which would have been completely harmless had it not actually been an old woman, and had you not spoken with an inappropriately loud voice. the poor old lady who had fallen subject to your anesthesia induced self gave you an agitated glare as mai waved sheepishly in apology. the moment you guys were out the door, you turned back to glance through the glass.

“we’ll get her later, mai!” you patted her on the back with determination, your voice still muffled in a way that made you sound like you belonged on sesame street. “she can’t fool me, stupid curse!”

had it been anyone else, mai would have simply rolled her eyes and tugged you on, but since it was you, she found herself laughing along, a quiet laugh, like the sound of a wind chime in early spring weather. the sound seemed to catch you off guard, causing you to stop in your antics before turning to face her. she paused when she felt your gaze back on her, looking at her like a kid would look at fireworks for the first time.

she raised an eyebrow at your sudden change in demeanor. “what?”

“your laugh is pretty.” you stated simply, clearly having some pride at being the one to get her to laugh like that.

she turned away for a moment, hoping it would stop you from seeing the flush spreading across her face, knowing you’d never let her live it down. “thanks.” she muttered, praying she sounded at least a little bit cool and composed.

the short walk to the car was filled with you pointing out random cars asking if they were mai’s as you rested your head on her shoulder, before deciding the swelling was too painful for that.

a large grin which quickly turned into a grimace (you really never learned) appeared on your face when mai finally informed you that you’d made it to the right car. she held your hand to support you as you stepped into the seat, and once she’d sat down, reached over to buckle you in. she chose to ignore the over exaggerated wink you sent her way in favor of her own sanity.

as she drove, you babbled on about nonsense like how you were sure noritoshi had made mechamaru to hide the fact that he was secretly a robot, or how after that run you had gotten at the baseball game, you were sure you were destined to quit sorcery to go to the major leagues. to humor you, mai nodded along, before dryly responding that she’d probably be a better fit considering how good she looked in the baseball uniforms.

ignorant of her joking tone, you were quick to agree enthusiastically. “definitely! but i dunno if i’m the best person to ask, because i think you look good in just about anything.” your voice was sincere as you turned fully to look at her with slightly hazy eyes.

before either of you had time to process the admiration you had shown towards her, you glanced back out the window to the familiar sight of your school. you excitedly waved at the sight of todo and noritoshi sparring together. after catching his attention, todo didn’t even bother to stop the roaring laughter that came from your appearance, pointing out to noritoshi the similarities between your current look and his from just a few weeks ago. noritoshi gave todo an annoyed look, before glancing back over to see mai helping you out of the car, once again slinging your arm over her shoulders and supporting you with an arm on your waist.

she tried her best to ignore todo, she really did. though, it wasn’t exactly easy to ignore him when he loudly exclaimed what a ‘lady killer’ mai was. she snapped her gaze to meet his eyes, giving him a cold glare, before continuing to slink you along to your dorm.

when you opened the door to your dorm, the first thing mai noticed was a bulletin board on your wall, decorated with photos of all your friends, which most recently included your classmates. her eyes flicked to a photo of you next to another girl in elementary school with a smile that showed off your gap from missing teeth, and she chuckled softly at the irony of the photo compared to your current situation. her gaze then quickly shifted to a newly added strip of pictures from a photo booth. she smiled fondly at the memory of you, her, miwa, and momo sandwiching yourselves together in the tiny booth to take photos during your shopping trip. they weren’t ‘good’ photos, per say, in fact you guys all looked rather ridiculous trying to pack into frame, but for some reason, mai seemed to soften up at the memory of it, and how happy you looked just to be next to her.

her train of thought was interrupted by you tugging on the hand that didn’t rest on you, making her turn to see you mere inches from her face.

why the hell were you so close???

“yes?” she questioned, hoping to deflect from the fact that she was so obviously gushing over the photos on your wall just moments before.

“will you sleep with me?”

had you not had an arm around her, she probably would have dropped you in that instant. from the way she carried herself to the way she talked to others, most people would assume mai zenin does NOT blush, yet somehow you’d managed to disprove that theory way too many times today.

“WHAT?” it was her turn to be loud for a moment.

“i’m tireddddd” you whined “and you’re so warm.” you had stated it so casually, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

she groaned, as if it would cover up her sheer embarrassment at how bold you were. wordlessly, she walked you to your bed, keeping her grip on your waist secure. it was amazing how gentle she was as she laid you down on that rock solid bed all the dorms were stuck with. she pulled a blanket over you, sitting awkwardly on the edge of the bed in hopes you’d doze off peacefully from there. when she didn’t shift from her position, you looked at her with a confused expression.

“wouldn’t it be more comfortable to lay down?” your words were still slightly slurred together. you rested a hand on hers. “you know i don’t mind.” despite your dazed look, she could tell your words were sincere as your thumb rubbed circles atop her hand.

mai turned to face you full on, her eyes gentle rather than their usual harsh look.

curse you for being so hard to resist.

“fine” her voice was quiet “but only because it’s my job to watch over you.” she stretched out her legs so she was laying down on the bed, pulling the blanket towards her so she could get comfortable.

“you’re so good to me mai.” you smiled. not a pained grimace, or an awkward baring of your teeth, but a smile. “people always seem to be so intimidated by you, but i don’t really get it. you’ve always been so nice to me. it’s nice.”

she didn’t understand how even when you were all loopy, you still managed to have such an effect on her. hesitantly, she reached up to grab your hand, intertwining her fingers with yours.

it seemed the boldness from your anesthesia had rubbed off on her.

before she had time to talk, you continued. “i always feel so glad when we get paired up for missions, you make me feel so safe. like, i know when i’m around you that you’ll protect me. i admire you so much for doing all that for me.”

she went slightly stiff at your...confession? declaration? what exactly would you call that? you had said it so nonchalantly, whether it was out of trying to play off your fear of rejection or legitimate confidence, it was hard to tell.

“plus you’re really pretty.” your hand squeezed hers as you looked suddenly very interested in the pattern of your blanket. it was odd, seeing you get so shy all of a sudden, though she supposed it was somewhat of a win for her.

as you stared sheepishly away from her eyes that traced over every inch of your face, you felt her hand come up to your cheek, tilting you to face her. she continued scanning your face with an impossibly soft expression, before meeting your eyes once again.

“you know i wouldn’t do all that if it was anyone else.” her voice was barely above a whisper as her eyes bore into yours. her face was so close to yours that you could feel her breath fanning lightly across your face. “it’s all for you.” you’d never seen her so earnest before.

you smiled softly at her, even despite the ridiculous bandages around your head, and your chipmunk like cheeks, she still stared at you with so much love.

“you like meeee.” your tone was teasing, but it was obvious to anyone with a pair of eyes that you were just as whipped as her.

“dammit. you figured me out.” she said sarcastically, shuffling forward slightly so you were flush against her.

up close, the tiredness in your glassy eyes was obvious. she sighed to herself, and slowly leaned in to plant a soft kiss on your forehead.

“get some sleep.” she smiled at your eyes struggling to fight open your heavy eyelids. “we have a lot to talk about once the anesthesia wears off.”

maybe todo wasn’t so far off with that ‘lady killer’ comment.

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #mai zenin x reader #mai zenin #zenin mai #zenin mai x reader #jjk headcanons #mai zenin imagine #mai zenin x you #jjk imagines

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championofsanghelios · 3 years

Text

Watch Dogs Legion - "M"

This was written by me, remember. So expect the usual errors, typos and word bugs (bzz.) --- [11.11.2029] [THE EARLS FORTUNE] [2044 HOURS] --- "...that's not my point!" Jackson says as he pushes the door open, his waterproof dripping wet from the rain that was lashing down outside. "You need to stop being so reckless, and actually consider the risks to yourself...as well as others."

"There's no fun in being careful!" Wrench replies, following him in. He was absolutely soaked through, but didn't seem to care. "It takes away the unpredictability...which is what I love about those Ops. Just showing up with my Lady Smash and some home made explosives...it's great!"

"That's another thing I need to talk to you about." Jackson pulls off his waterproof, draping it over one of the radiators near the wall. "There's breaking things, then there's vaporizing them..."

Connie comes out of the back room, letting out a laugh when she sees them both. "Well Well, you two took your time getting back."

"Only because this one here decided an Albion Comms Tower needed to be demolished." Jackson says, moving past her into the backroom where he locates a towel to dry his hair. "I'm yet to figure out how he wasn't caught or killed."

"You're making a name for yourself, Reggie." Connie says, moving around to the other side of the bar. "Not entirely sure if it's a good one, but...a name nonetheless."

"Yeah well, I'm just prepared to do whatever is necessary to take this city back." Wrench shrugs, gladly accepting the beer she places on the bar for him. "If that involves blowing up Albion property or smashing up Blume server stacks with my hammer, so fucking be it."

"It's dangerous." Jackson appears from the backroom, tossing the towel at him. "You better change that sweater by the way. You'll catch a chill."

"What are you my mother!?" Wrench let's out a modulated grunt, pulling up his mask slightly and downing about half of the beer he'd been handed. "Give me a break, we made it back okay!"

"And what happens if you end up getting arrested, or seriously wounded?" Jackson asks, opting for a bottle of water instead of anything alcoholic.

"Oh no." Wrench shakes his head placing his bottle down on the bars surface, his exposed mouth smirking. "There's no injuries with me. Either I get the job done, or die trying."

"You genuinely don't care if you live or die?" Jackson asks, giving him a look. "Seriously?"

"I don't have this for nothing." Wrench points at the anarchy symbol on his neck. "I don't live by rules, that includes the ones to do with life and death."

Jackson is about to say something when the door pushes open and Aiden comes in, feeling about as miserable as he looked. He was wet, but not in the same way the two of them were, something else had happened to him. "Wow! What happened to you!"

"I fell in the Thames." Aiden grumbles, shaking the water from the sleeves of his overcoat. "...actually I dove in there after some thugs caught me stalking them."

"Oh that reminds me!" Connie suddenly pipes up, her hand tapping Wrench's right forearm. "There was a bloke in here earlier on. He was asking for you."

"A bloke?" Wrench replies, questions marks lighting up his askew mask. He downs more of his beer. "Who was it?"

"No idea." Connie shakes her head, smiling. She reaches under the bar, taking out a small piece of white card paper. "But he was lovely, all charms...asked me to pass this onto you."

Wrench eyes the card for a second, opting to pull off his mask entirely. He takes a hold of it, turning it around. Someone had written a note in red-ink.

YOU NEED TO ANSWER YOUR PHONE, MAN ALSO THE WEATHER HERE IS NUTS!!! SEND ME A MESSAGE WHEN YOU GET THIS oh...and thank Connie for the free cookies. - M

He suddenly let's out a cough as he chokes on the beer he's drinking. Lifting the card up. "...motherfucker!"

"What?" Jackson stops trying to wrestle his Uncle out of his coat. "What is it?"

"I'll be right back." Wrench says, leaving his beer and his mask at the bar. He heads out into the rain, ignorant to the fact that it was making him wetter than he already was.

Taking his out his phone, he swipes up the contacts tab, scrolling down until he finds the right number. He thumbs it, his Optik lighting up and dialling.

After a tone or two, he hears a click.

"You took your time." Marcus' voice was something that he would never ever tire of hearing, especially now, especially after all of the shit he'd been through the last year or two. "I was wondering if Connie would get that to you."

"You're here." is all Wrench can say, unsure of what he should do now. Part of him wanted to jump for joy, another wanted to cry. "...you're actually here. In London."

"Yeah, I guess I couldn't just sit there in SF and let you have all the fun." Marcus chuckles. "...that little job we did together a few months back reminded me of how much I enjoyed having you around."

"Where are you right now?" Wrench asks, reaching up this face, rubbing at it. "Are you nearby?"

"Why?" Marcus asks, a smile evident in his voice. "You that desperate to see me?"

"Yes." Wrench admits it there and then. In truth there hadn't been anything he wanted to do more than see him again. "...It was the same for me. I didn't realise how much fun I used to have with you until you found me through, Jordi."

He moves over to one of the benches, sitting down on it. All around him, London was going about it's business, people were walking past, umbrellas in hand, hoods covering their heads. Looking out across Parliament Green, he sighs.

"I hear you've been having some fun outwith our little shared Op." Marcus says. "Something about killing Nigel Cass?"

"He had it coming." Wrench snorts bitterly, shaking his head. "Fuckin' maniac thought he could subvert justice and launch a coup...which reminds me, I've got to introduce you to the Dick."

"The Dick?" he hears the Hipster's confusion. "Who's that? Dusan's cousin?"

"Might as well be." the Anarchist nods, smiling to himself. "His name is Richard Malik...and he's a massive prick...but he's been useful to us."

"Wait...is that the same Richard Malik who was appointed Director of SIRS, only to be exposed literally 2 days later?" Marcus asks.

"That's the one." Wrench nods, sitting forwards. Staring at the concrete between his shoes. "I should send you the vids from when Bagley used his own FILAMENT against him."

"FILAMENT?"

"...what were his exact words?" Wrench's eyes narrow. "It's like...Nudle, but with instant access to all information about every person in the UK...basically George Orwell's wet dream."

The laugh that Marcus let's out is cathartic, such a delightfully bright noise, and one he could never get enough of. One he hoped he would hear more of soon.

It's short lived though, as a whole load of other feelings come to the surface in the pause that follows. He deflates a little. "I've missed having you around, M."

"I know." Marcus replies.

"So where are you?" Wrench asks. "Are you coming back this way? Or am I going to have to find you?"

He gets no response to those questions. His eyes narrow slightly. "M?"

Suddenly there's a movement in his peripherals, at which point a hand appears, holding his mask. He looks at it for a second, almost stunned.

"You're making a habit of leaving that thing lying around..." Marcus says, having just sat down next to him. "...am I gonna have to retrieve it for you every time you misplace it?"

Wrench doesn't move, he just sits there, frozen in place. Marcus had aged, much like himself, but not in the way he was expecting. He still looked pretty much the same as he always had, spare the scruff around his face and neck, which had turned into a full beard...and a little tinge of silver hair on his fringe.

Something shifts inside him at that moment, a tightness in his core that he wasn't even aware of unravels. A laughs bubbles out of him, one that turns to a sob half-way, and without so much as a word he puts an arm around him and pulls him into a hug, hiding his face in his shoulder.

"Huh." Marcus says, placing the mask onto his lap and closing the hug. "Of all the reactions I was ready for...this wasn't one of them."

"Shut up." Wrench says, his voice muffled by his shoulder. "Just-...Just shut up."

Marcus laughs out loud again.

. . .

#watch dogs legion #wrench #marcus holloway #wrencus #jackson pearce #aiden pearce #connie robinson #i wrote this instead of sleeping #good night zzzz

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goodwriterwithbadhabits · 3 years

Text

Want Me

This is, a lot more than anything I've ever written, but I hope you like it.

Master List

When Chan had told Stays he had a gift for them today, you had anticipated something like the valentines date. Maybe even Hyunjin’s surprise appearance. What you definitely weren’t expecting was your boyfriend to basically strip in front of literally the whole world.

“Oh. My god.” Your reaction was subconscious, and totally not something you wanted your roommate, Sungmi, to hear. Your eyes were the size of saucers as you stared at your phone.

“What’s up?” Her interest was piqued the second you made a sound, and being you, you did the one thing you could think of.

You threw your phone as far from yourself as possible.

The two of you watch it sail across the living room and land safely in the dirty clothes hamper neither of you had moved from the hallway to the washer.

“Uh, you good?”

“Wow, look at that laundry!” You exclaim, “Someone should go do it.” You can’t even jump up from the couch when her hand is wrapping around your ankle, pulling you onto the floor.

“Was it Chan’s performance?” Your face immediately goes crimson. “No,” You lie, poorly. “What performance? I didn’t even know he was performing. I should go do the laundry.” You’re talking like you’re the flash, and while she’s attempting to figure out what you said, you attempt to wrench your leg from her grip. Unfortunately her brain power is faster that you can get your arms under you, though you do manage to yank her off the couch with you.

“Get back here!” She huffs, yanking you closer to her and somehow managing to sit on your pelvis. “You saw the Wolfgang performance didn’t you?” She demands, but your answer is more struggling to knock her over. “I’m not going anywhere, Y/n.” She drops forward, pinning your arms by your head, and if she were literally anyone else, you would probably think this was super hot.

“Curse your shockingly strong legs.”

“Nine years of waterpolo.” She explains.

“Really? Damn, I should start playing.”

“You’re stalling.”

“No I’m not.” You lie, again. She rolls her eyes, dropping her head a little more to knock her forehead against yours. “Ow.”

“Be honest with me.”

“I am.”

“No you’re not.” She bonks your head again, “Stop lying.”

“Will you get off me?”

“When we’re done talking.”

“Then yes, I saw Chan’s Wolfgang performance.” She nods, letting go of your hands to sit up properly and crush your pelvis a little more.

“I thought it was pretty hot.” She confesses and you feel something bubble in your chest. You can’t help the slight twitch in your brows and of course she notices. “Ah! Jealousy!”

“I’m not jealous.” She taps your forehead, aggressively enough to hurt a little. “Ow.”

“You can’t lie to a Psychology major.”

“I’m not-” She raises her finger again and you relent. “Alright, fine. Maybe I’m not a huge fan of someone telling me they think my boyfriend is hot to my face.”

“Did you think it was hot?” Your face grows warm and you have to bite back an embarrassed smile.

“I’m not answering that.”

“You don’t have to. You’d be stupid to think otherwise.”

“Especially when he was in the white shirt.” You admit, and she nods.

“You should see if he’ll wear something like that next time you two decide to get all hot and heavy.” Your face flushes again, not really wanting to discuss your sexlife with someone you’ve only actually known for about seven months.

“Um yeah, totally.”

“Oh my god. You guys don’t do stuff!”

“We do stuff!” You defend, immediately regretting it.

“Oh really? Ever used handcuffs?” On him, or me?

“I don’t have to answer that.”

“So that's a no. How about, have you ever sent him a nude?” Oh, if only you knew.

“Get off me.”

“Another no.” She grins, “I’m shocked, he seems like such a feisty boy, you’d think he’d do stuff.” “Seriously, get off.” There’s no humor in your voice now. It wasn’t her place to tell you about your own boyfriend, and you were getting sick of her forcing her way into your love life.

“Oh come on Y/n.” She doesn’t get another word out before you grab her leg and wrench her sideways. Instead of just tossing her onto the floor, you find yourself slamming your hand into the floor by her head, now leaning over her.

“Stay out of my love life, do you hear me?” You practically growl, “I don’t need your help to please my boyfriend.” Her eyes go wide at your words, and you instantly become aware of your positions when a smirk paints itself on her face.

“My, my Y/n. I didn’t peg you as someone who’d be on top.”

“Clearly.” You reply. “Now are you quite done?”

“Have you ever topped him? He seems like the kind of guy who wouldn’t like that.”

“Once again, I don’t have to answer that.”

“You should try it. Something tells me you’ll like it.”

“Shut up.”

“I hate you.” It had been hours since your rather sexually charged conversation with her, and here you were standing at her doorway seeking advice. You hadn’t stopped thinking about what she had said, but in all honesty, Chan was your first, so you had no clue what you were doing most of the time.

“Oh? Is that why you’re looking all lost and confused at my door?” Her voice is sickeningly sweet as she looks at you in the mirror. “What up?”

“I need advice.”

“Wear black, it looks good on everyone.” Her gaze shifts back to her reflection, where she’s curling her hair for a date.

“About Chan.” Her attention turns back to you in an instant and you’re tempted to run back to your room.

“In what sense?”

“What you said earlier.” A wicked grin spreads on her face. “Have a seat darling.” You trudge over to her bed, sitting on the trunk at the end to watch her. “First off, tell me this, who initiates sex usually?”

“He does.” You admit quietly. “Babe, if you want my help, you gotta be able to talk about sex without turning into a tomato. I mean, how are you sexually active and still blushing like a virgin. Next you're going to tell me you only do it missionary with the lights off.”

“Well…” Her mouth drops open in horror.

“Oh my god.” She gasps. “No wonder you’re all annoyed these days. You’re not satisfied.”

“Hey, he gets me off,” You defend, “And he’s very good at it.” You practically swoon just thinking about it. She raises her hands in surrender, but smiles at your answer.

“Have you ever asked him for oral?”

“How the hell do I bring that up in casual conversation? Just “Hey babe, you did wonderful today, do you want to eat me out’.”

“Well if it works.”

“No.”

“Okay, have you ever worn lingerie for him?”

“No, but I did buy something to wear a few months ago.” She nods, approving.

“How come you’ve never worn it?”

“Between Kingdom and the fact that he lives with seven other men, there hasn’t exactly been a time and place.”

“That’s fair. When do you guys usually do it? What’s it like? Just broad details.”

“He tells me he wants to spend the night. I usually get a hotel room, since my parents are still sending me money for rent, and we arrive at separate times. Its usually really sweet and slow.”

“And after?” She prompts.

“We shower, and cuddle. He usually leaves first cause he has practice or something.”

“Ever done it in the shower?” You shake your head, shoulders slumping as you realize how lame everything sounds.

“I really like him, but I think, especially since you said he seems like a kinky type, what if he’s not as into me?”

“I don’t think that’s the case.” She turns her chair towards you, setting a hand on your knee. “I think you’re both too nervous to broach the subject. I know this is your first real relationship, and it might be his too.”

“So, what should I do?”

“Start simple.” She turns back to her mirror, “You should book a room, and jazz it up a little. Rose petals, candles, maybe that set you bought. That way its obvious you want him.”

“That's not a bad idea.”

“Even better! I will go halfsies on one of the fancy hotels with you. I know one that has these huge bathtubs so you can take one together, and the shower has a stone floor, so its not slippery. Oh! We can get you a pretty silk robe, so you can do the dramatic reveal.”

“This sounds like a lot. How about for now, I just do the candles and the set?” She laughs, clearly embarrassed by the way she fiddles with her necklace.

“Sounds like a plan. You can do the big one for your anniversary.” You nod, agreeing with her.

“I can do it tonight, he’ll probably want some stress relief after that performance.” You offer her a sly smile, jumping up to leave the room.

“Where are you going?” She calls after you.

“I gotta go buy some candles.”

Hey lover, come meet me. *Y/n shared her location*

You glanced over at the message again as you adjusted the black lace garterbelt. Sungmi had been right, black did look amazing on everyone. He had read the message, and if you were lucky, he was too busy driving over to text you back. You slid the black skirt up your legs, loving the way it stopped just under the edge of the thigh highs. The last piece was a simple t shirt, it was a little ripped and hung off one shoulder, just giving a slight peekaboo of the bra you had spent way too much money on. If Chan didn’t combust from seeing you in this, you were going to have a fun night.

Carefully you moved your things out of the main room, tucking them in the closet for safe keeping, and began lighting the candles. The sweet aroma of vanilla and lavender wafted through the room as you shut the lights off. You settled on the edge of the bed, taking a few risque selfies to show Sungmi and maybe send Chan later.

And then you waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

Babe?

Three hours, that's how long you’d been waiting before you finally texted him again, having run out of excuses for the man.

“Sorry babe, I was working. Do you still want me to come to you?”

Not really, after this long, the wonder had worn off, and you just felt stupid and hurt. Of course he wasn’t going to come if you asked.

No. Its fine.

Actually, I want to talk to you. Are you still at the studio?

You set your phone down, turn the lights back on and begin blowing out candles. You don’t bother changing, just grab your sneakers and your bag before heading out, tucking your key and phone in your bra as you leave the building.

With some take out in hand you make your way to the JYP building, not at all surprised to see several lights still on.

“Woah, hel-lo Y/n.” You instantly smile at Jae’s greeting, which is followed by Brian’s whistle. “You look like a full course meal, girl.”

“Hey boys, what had you here so late, its past midnight?”

“Oh we were just-” Jae glances over at Brian who clears his throat.

“Just working. What about you?”

“Chan’s still working, so I brought some food.” You shrug, heading towards the elevators, “Have a good night.

“You too.” You have to bite your lip so you don’t laugh at Brian smacking Jae’s shoulder, earning a whine from the taller boy.

The lights from the studios are all off when you arrive, but you can see the glow of the computer shining from Chan’s. You knock as you open the door, making him jump and yank his headphones off when the light from the hall hits him. His face lights up in a smile when he sees you. Of course, he’s wearing super tight jeans and a black button up, neither of which were not helping you relax.

“Oh hey baby, I didn’t know you were coming.” He stands to greet you, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek.

“I texted you.” You tell him, which has him looking guilty.

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear it when I’m working.” You smile reassuringly at him.

“That's okay, I know, that’s why I just came over.” You hold up the bag of take out, “I also brought food since you forget to eat when you start working.”

“You are the light of my life.” He sighs, kissing you properly this time as he takes the bag. Your heart flutters from his words, some of the butterflies in your stomach coming back from the dead. You sit across from him, stealing his work chair as he spreads the food out on the table and digs in. It takes him a few minutes to notice that you’re just staring, and he finally stops eating to say something, “You okay? How come you aren’t eating?”

“I already ate.” You lie, but he sees right through it, setting his chopsticks down to look at you properly. You watch his eyes rake across your body, finally seeing the lace stockings and the matching bra.

“That’s not it. You’re disappointed.” He realizes, “You looked the same way when you saw I.Ns grades.” He explains before you can even open your mouth to answer. “I know its not our anniversary, and your birthday already passed.”

“Its nothing babe. I just had a stupid idea for tonight.” The words come spilling out of your mouth before you can stop them. He looks at your outfit again and a cheeky smile begins to grow on his face.

“Were you-? But you never-” He lets out a deep breath, followed by a small giggle, which doesn’t make you feel better.

“I should head home.” You spring up, heading towards the door. “Enjoy your dinner.” He catches your arm before you get too far, pulling you back to wrap his arms around you.

“What did you have planned, baby girl?” Your heart flutters at the pet name, and the low tone his voice had taken on. “You wouldn’t have gotten all dressed up like this for nothing.” HIs free hand trails down your side, coming to the edge of your skirt, where his fingers find the skin just above the top of your stockings.

“Maybe I just wanted to make sure you want me as much as I want you.” You confess.

“Baby girl.” His voice is soft now, “Of course I want you.” His lips brush the skin of your neck as he speaks, sending shivers across your whole body.

“Then how come we never do anything interesting?”

“Like what?” Your confidence grows as you turn to face him, looping a finger through the choker he wears.

“Maybe I don’t want to do the same thing every time we fuck.” You can see from the way his eyebrows hike up that he’s startled by your words, hell, you were startled by them. “Maybe I want to see you.” Your other hand moves up to his face, trailing your thumb over his lips. “Maybe I don’t always want to be in a bed, in the dark, on my back. Maybe I want to be in charge.”

“I don’t think you could handle that baby girl.” He bites at your thumb as he finishes his sentence.

“Try me, Chris.” You challenge. His hands come up to your cheeks, pulling you in for a searing kiss. For a few seconds, your brain forgets what you had just challenged. He doesn’t help as he pulls away from your lips, his trailing across your cheek and down your neck.

“Sit.” You order, pulling away, trying to keep your breathing steady and not let on how affected you were.

“Excuse me?”

“Sit. Down.” You order again, shoving him lightly towards his computer chair. He backs up slowly, collapsing into it, eyes never leaving you.

“What are you doing?” He asks as you turn away from him.

“Proving a point.” You declare, the click of his lock emphasizing your words.

“Oh?” You turn back to him, finding him relaxed as ever, watching you with his legs spread wide. You saunter towards him, standing between his legs, hands on the arm rests. “You really think you can handle this baby?”

“If I impress you, you’ll save your work and we head over to the hotel.”

“And if you don’t?”

“You save your work and we head over to the hotel anyway.”

“Bet.”

“You might regret that, baby.” You push on the chair, sending it back until it connects with his desk.

“Oh really?” He asks, as you push his knees together slightly so you can straddle his lap. Your fingers trail from his shoulders down to the buttons on his shirt, popping them open one at a time.

“You talk too much.” You tell him, leaning forward to press kisses along his neck. Just as you hit his pulse point, he hisses, hands coming to rest on your thighs. “Ah ah ah.” You chastise, pulling away from his neck. “No touching.” You pull his hands away, dropping them on the arm rests instead. “Hands to yourself.”

“Oh you are in for it when we get to the hotel.” He groans as you nip at his skin.

“That’s what I’m hoping for.”

#bang chan imagines #bang chan imagine #chris bang imagine #chris bang imagines #stray kids imagines #stray kids drabbles #stray kids imagine #almost smut #goodwriterwithbadhabits

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evolmaze · 3 years

Text

bts hyung line find/hear your confession

summary - hyung line finds or hears your confession

pairing - jin x reader, young x reader, hoseok x reader, namjoon x reader

genre - fluff, angst, comfort

word count - 3.1k words

warnings - some angst, otherwise pretty harmless!

a/n: parts for the maknae line will be out soon!

masterlist

JIN

You had spent weeks racking your brain for some sort of answer, for an explanation why you suddenly thought your friend and neighbor from down the hall was the only person for you. It had happened so quickly, you didn’t even realize. One night you’re watching a movie together, something you’ve done at least once a month, and the next thing you know your heart is racing at the idea of him being in the same room as you. You had no idea why you started to feel this way, but the instant you realized, you couldn’t stop yourself from constantly watching him, thinking of him, wondering what in the world you were gonna do.

You were currently on the phone with your best friend, complaining to her for the hundredth time about how rude it was that Jin thought it was perfectly normal to walk around the laundry room shirtless, “I mean come on f/n, he’s so hot it should be illegal. The man has the body of a god, and I as an innocent bystander should at least be given a warning before walking into it!”

“What do you mean ‘walked into it’?” she asked, amusement in her voice, and you groaned.

“I was doing laundry the other day, and I ran right into him as he was leaving the room, I dropped my clothes everywhere, and he totally saw my underwear and bras, but that’s not the point, the point is that he was shirtless, he was laughing at his clumsiness, and it was the hottest thing I had ever seen.”

It was at that moment that Jin had walked up to your door, preparing to ask you to borrow your hammer, when he heard your voice faintly through the wall.

“F/n, I don’t know what to do, I’ve literally never felt this way about someone before, and it’s not like I can even say anything, we barely know each other--yes I know we’ve hung out before, but everything feels different now, I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’ll probably pass out the next time I see him, and if he’s not wearing a shirt again, oh my fucking god, plan my funeral please.”

Jin laughed quietly, deciding he could ask for the hammer later, he had other plans to attend to, like making sure to ask you about this supposed incident the next time he was in the laundry room; shirt conveniently off for your viewing pleasure.

YOONGI

“Hey I have a question,” Yoongi mused, turning down the radio. You and Yoongi were on your way to a cabin up north, planning to meet some friends there for a fun weekend getaway. You’d been on the road for almost two hours now, and he had decided that it was time to break the silence that had settled between the two of you.

“Yeah what’s up?” you asked, closing your book, and setting it in your bag. You waited as he beat his fingers rhythmically against the steering wheel.

“Who’s Voldemort?” you froze in your seat, and turned to him slowly, gauging his expression. How the hell did he know about that?

“Why do you ask?” you said slowly, thankful for your sunglasses that hid your panicked expression.

“When you asked me to grab your bag from your room, there was an envelope addressed to ‘Voldemort’sitting on it. Do you have a pen pal or something?”

No, no you did not have a pen pal. Stupidly, you had written your feelings to Yoongi out on paper, an ode to all the boys i’ve loved before. You planned to store it away forever, never to be read again, in hopes of riding this stupid crush from your heart. All you wanted was peace, and the ability to hang with him without the looming cloud of love stalling over your head, but you must have forgotten to put it away before you left.

“Uh, no, no it’s not that,” you muttered, trying you best to sound nonchalant. “Just a letter I was writing to someone, probably won’t send it though.”

“Their name isn’t actually Voldemort, is it?”

You laughed, “No it’s not. It’s a pseudonym, my friends and I used it all the time to talk about boys we liked in middle school.”

Yoongi sat in silence for a second, and you hoped that that was the end of the conversation. “Do you like this Voldemort?”

You paled, and cleared your throat. “Uh, I don’t know, it’s complicated. I’m trying to get over them, so it’s probably best to not talk about it.”

Yoongi nodded, and didn’t say much for a while, and you assumed that was the end of it, thank god. The drive went on in silence, and you calmed down a bit, mentally cheering for evading a disastrous situation. You even talked with Yoongi about other topics like the weekends upcoming events, and how excited you were to try this new soju flavor. It was nice, peaceful, and definitely less stressful then the previous conversation. That was until you both started talking about college and first impressions. You had been explaining your thoughts on your other friends Namjoon and Lia when he stopped you.

“Wait,” he said suddenly, “Didn’t you and Lia have nicknames for everyone?”

“Yeah, we made up nicknames for everyone based on Harry Potter characters...” you said, trailing off on the end as you connected the dots.

“Yeah!” Yoongi exclaimed, oblivious. “Like yours was Ginny, Joon’s was Lupin, mine was..” he paused, looking over at you suspiciously. “Mine was Voldemordt, right?”

You shook your head, “Noooo, yours was something else I think.”

“Hmm, no I’m pretty sure it was Voldemordt,” he said. “Cause you and Lia always joked about how I was pale just like him,” You didn’t say anything in response, instead finding the dirt under your nails way more interesting.

“Y/n...” he called, pulling you from your thoughts. You didn’t look at him, too embarrassed to talk about it. “Hey, it’s fine, seriously.”

“Ah, can we please not talk about it,” you whined, putting your head in your hands. This was so awkward. You had written a middle school crush letter to the man sitting right next to you, and you still had to spend the whole weekend and ride back with him, great.

“Okay,” he said simply, tapping rhythmically on the steering wheel again. “I guess I’ll just have to wait to read it.”

“Oh no way, you’re not reading it!” you yelled, facing him as adrenaline raced through your veins. “I’m burning it the second we get back.”

“But why? I wanna hear all the nice things you said about me, you never compliment me in person.”

“Shut up,” you said, a blush blossoming on your cheeks. He laughed, lightly swatting your knee.

“So mean,” he teased. He lifted his hand to pull your hand from your face. You looked up, surprised by his action. He was never one for skinship, especially with you. “You know I’m joking, right?”

You nodded, “Yeah, no, I do, no worries, it’s fine”

“Good,” he said simply, bringing his hand back down the arm rest, except he hadn’t let go of your hand, so yours followed suit, held in his grasp. You stared intently at your intertwined hands, and then looked at him, confused. He was staring straight ahead, but you could see the smile forming on his face, and the red hue on his cheeks as well. Looks like you weren’t the only one with a secret.

HOSEOK

Hey y/n! Do you have a copy of the notes from last class that I can borrow?

You smiled at your phone, Hoseok had definitely slept through class again this week, and as always, you were more than willing to share notes, any excuse to talk to him, right?

Yeah for sure! Give me one sec and I’ll send you a link to my notes

You had always preferred to take notes on your computer, you could type way faster than you could write, so in fast-paced lectures it just made sense. You found the document within a folder the two of you shared information. With Hoseok consistently sleeping through one class every other week, and you having such detailed notes, it made much more sense to just put all your notes in a folder he could access. You found the latest document with your notes, and quickly shared it with him.

Just sent it now, it’s in the folder with all the other ones in case you need them too! Let me know if you have any questions!

Sounds great, thank youuuuu!!!

You grinned at his response before going back to your studying. He usually had questions, so you were a little surprised when he never texted you back. You figured maybe he understood it better than you, and made a mental note to ask him some questions next time you saw him. You went about the rest of your day, finishing up your homework, getting your laundry washed and put away, and four hours later, still no word from Hoseok.

“So weird,” you mumbled to yourself as you grabbed your keys. You had talked about meeting him for dinner tonight, so you wondered if he was still up for it.

Hey are you still up for dinner tonight? Hope studying is going well!

After 10 minutes, and no response, you grew worried and annoyed, so you decided to just walk over to his place yourself. The walk was short, you jammed the whole way, wondering what you’d get tonight, and hoping that your professor would put out grades soon. Walking into the dorm, you passed a number of doors before standing outside Hoseok’s.

You knocked three times, and waited patiently for him to answer. The door creaked open slowly, and you watched as his head appeared in the crack. He stared at you and said nothing.

You cleared your throat, “Uh, hey. I texted, but you didn’t answer, are you still down for dinner tonight?” He said nothing still, and you sighed. “It’s fine if you’re busy, I can go. Text me next time you’re free to hang.” You didn’t mean to sound annoyed, but you were hurt, confused why he was acting this way all of the sudden, especially with no explanation. Waving goodbye, you turned on your heel and walked down the hallway. You made it about three steps before he called out your name.

“Y/n, wait, I’m sorry.” turning around, confused, you saw him open the door. “Please come in.” He gave you a half smile, and you sighed, ignoring the smile that sat on your face as you entered his dorm. It was dark, his blinds were drawn, and it looked like a hurricane had come through here, which was odd since he was usually so clean.

“Hey what happened here? Everything okay?” you asked, worried, when you turned to face him he was standing by his desk, computer in hand.

“I--I, um, need you to read this,” he said, handing you his computer. You raised an eyebrow, and turned the computer around. As your eyes adjusted to the bright screen in the otherwise dark room, your heart dropped into your stomach.

It was about a week ago when you wrote a letter to Hoseok. It was 2 in the morning, you were so tired, but you couldn’t sleep, the whirlwind of thoughts running through your mind were too much to handle, so you wrote them all down. Wrote down everything you wanted to say, and closed your computer, never intending to read it again. What you had failed to notice that night was that you created the document inside a folder, the very folder you shared with the man in front of you. You had carelessly titled the document to hoseok so it’s no surprise that he clicked on it, he probably thought it was a funny message to him, but instead he got a look right inside your heart.

You looked up to see him already watching you closely. He looked pained, confused, and most of all angry. “Why would you say those things?”

“I, I, uh--” you paused, you knew at the time it was wrong to write them. He had a girlfriend, they’ve been together for almost a year, and they were so happy together, and you had no problem with that. You loved Julia, and had even introduced the two, but you also couldn’t help how you felt, you had no intention of him ever reading this, you felt awful. “I swear, I didn't realize this was in here, Hoseok I’m so sorry.”

“But you wrote it, and put it in this folder, you must have known I would have seen it at some point.” he protested, coming closer to you.

“I swear, I didn’t do it on purpose, I opened it in the wrong folder, I, oh my god, Hoseok I swear to god I never wanted you to read that.” you said, tears filling your eyes. You had jeopardized everything with your carelessness. He took the computer from your hands and set it on the desk. You couldn’t look him in the eyes as he sat next to you on his bed.

“I believe you,” he said quietly, and you nodded. “I’m sorry there’s not more I can say.”

You shook your head, “Why are you apologizing, it’s not your fault. I was the one who put it in the wrong folder. At least the worst part is over though,” you laughed weakly at the statement, the worst was far from over, but at least you could stop staying up at night wondering what he thought about you. “I’m sorry that you’re in such a weird position, I promise that I’m working on it, I’ve been trying to get over it.”

“You don’t have to apologize for what you feel, y/n.” he said, standing up in front of you. “This is nobody’s fault, let’s go get dinner and talk it out, yeah?”

You smiled at his attempt to smooth things over, you agreed, but a part of you wondered as you walked out the door how long it would last before you grew distant and never spoke again. For now, you’d cherish these last few memories with him, and always remember the times before it.

NAMJOON

“Just say it,”

“No!”

“Why not?!”

“Cause I already told you no!” you sighed in annoyance, flipping through another page in the magazine you were currently reading, or trying to read at least, until Namjoon showed up and rudely interrupted you.

“Come on, y’n, I need to practice!” you laughed at him, practice? What in the world was he thinking?

“You’re not seriously saying you want to practice this,” you said, setting down the magazine and facing him. He looked at you, and you realized he was serious. “Ugh, fine.”

He grinned, happy that he had finally convinced you to help him out. All of this started about a week ago when Namjoon caught wind that a girl in his bio class had a crush on him, the man absolutely lost it, so flustered and confused, he didn’t know what to do. You felt like you were watching a cheesy romantic comedy with the way he came to you, pacing back and forth in your living room. He was totally clueless, had no idea what to do, and came to you for help. You had been around the block a time or two when it came to dealing with situations like this, so it was no surprise that he wanted your expertise on how to politely reject someone.

It wasn’t that the girl in Namjoon’s bio class was awful or anything like that, it was the fact that Namjoon barely had time to live his own life, let alone make room for someone else. You were lucky if you spoke to him once a week, you practically had a heart attack when he showed up today. He explained to you the rumor he had heard, and how he had also heard that she was going to confess after their next class together. All of that combined was enough to stress the man into oblivion, so he desperately asked for your help.

“y/n thank you so much, I just don’t want to hurt her feelings, you know?”

“You’re literally the nicest person I know, there’s no way she would leave feeling anything but mildly sad, knowing you, you'd probably offer to pay for her bus fare home.” The look on his face had you laughing as it looked as though he was seriously considering it. “I’m kidding, Joon. Don’t do that.”

“What?” he said, “I definitely wasn’t gonna do that.”

You smirked at his obvious lie, “Whatever, let’s get this over with.” Taking a breath, you tried to get into character: a biology girl who likes Namjoon. “Hey Namjoon,” you said, trying to sound flirty and leaned casually on the side of the couch.

“Hey, y/n-”

“Don’t use my name,” you laughed, “use her name.”

“Oh okay,” he said, and he took a breath before looking into your eyes, “Hey, Emily. What’s up?”

“Nothing much, I actually had something I wanted to talk to you about,” you said, getting up from the couch, and walking over to where he stood by the kitchen island.

“Oh what’s that?” he asked, moving away from you just a bit. Your act must have been spot on, you smirked.

“I have feelings for you, Joon.” you said, trying to sound nervous and excited, however the hell someone sounded when they admitted their feelings. You were never one to discuss such personal topics, probably the reason why you were single at 23, but whatever, you liked it that way. Poor Namjoon looked terrified, and you’d take being single over being the cause of a situation like this any day.

“Oh,” he said simply, and you raised your eyebrows at him. “I-oh, I’m sorry, y/n--Emily, I’m way too busy for a relationship right now, I’m sorry.”

You grinned at his attempt, it was weak, but you’d work on it. By the end of the night, he’d be confident and sound sure of his feelings, you could feel it.

“Okay,” you said, patting his shoulder. “That was good, but next time sound more sure of yourself, your reasons are perfectly valid, and if she’s as nice as you say she is, I’m sure she’ll understand. Again.”

#bts imagines #bts fluff friends to lovers #bts fluff imagines #bts #bts hyung line #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #jhope #jin #yoongi #namjoon #jin imagines #yoongi imagines #rm #namjoon imagines #jhope imagines

67 notes · View notes

ericsangyeon · 3 years

Text

addicted - l.sy

‘He was like fire, she was his igniter. Together they were each other's addictions.”

pairing: sangyeon x female! reader

word count: 7.0k

genre: angst, fluff, suggestive

theme: gang au sorta??

warnings: SMUT!!, profanity, drinking, guns, blood, kidnapping, bang chan and skz are villians

a/n: hey guys! i wanted to try writing a fic bc why not! this is my first tme ever writing smut so be nice. also this was edited many times but there could be mistakes so just bare with me. enjoy it! i worked really hard hehe -t :D

playlist moodboard

“Kevin oh my god. I'm not going to that criminal ball.” I roll my eyes at my best friend.

“Pretty please? You can finally meet Jacob! And I'm pretty sure a certain someone wants you there too,” Kevin smirks from the other side of the work area. I stop cleaning the countertops and stare up at him with wide eyes.

Kevin, and his boyfriend Jacob, are members of the underground mafia group TBZ, which never gets brought up when I'm with Kevin because he knows it makes me uncomfortable. That was until Lee Sangyeon came into the picture. Sangyeon is the leader and “big boss” (as Kevin calls him) of TBZ, and has somehow found interest in me. Ever since Kevin brought him into the cafe a month ago during one of my shifts, I kept bumping into him everywhere. From work, to campus, to even near my apartment. He tries to make small talk with me, which I always ignore and keep distance from him. I see him all the time despite wanting to, and I want nothing to do with him…. even though he literally looks and talks like an angel sent from heaven. I'm positive there is some sort of an attraction between the two of us. But don't tell anyone I said that. Lee Sangyeon is hopelessly attractive and I couldn't help myself to have developed a crush on him. If it wasn't for his shady career choice, I would have hooked up with him in an instant.

“How many times do I have to tell you Kevin? I want nothing to do with him,” I cry while Kevin snickers.

“He's not even that bad, he only hurts people who have wronged him” Kevin explains.”But never mind about him, Jacob really wants to meet you and you said you’re free Friday so please, please pl-”

“Fine oh my god.” I huff while Kevin claps, pleased with himself. “One problem, I have nothing to wear.”

“Not to worry about that sweetheart, I got that covered. Just text me your measurements.” Kevin says. I was going to try to argue with him but I knew he would win no matter what, so I just shot him a thumbs up.

“Anyways babes I gotta go to class now. See ya y/n!” Kevin grins, blew me an air kiss which I caught with a small smile, and walked out of the cafe.

I sigh and put the cleaning supplies away. As I went to greet a customer, all I could think was - it's just a ball, with your best friend and his boyfriend. What could possibly go wrong?

On Thursday night, as I was getting ready to make dinner, there was a knock on my apartment door. I went to answer it, but found no one there when I opened it. Instead, a white box with a small bag on top, both had my name on it. “Oh yes.” I thought to myself. “The criminal ball.”

I grabbed both items and brought them to my room to open them. I unsecure the first box to be greeted to white tissue paper and a note on top, which I pick up and read the writing.

“This colour will look ravishing on you. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

Or at least that's what I thought it said. It was written in a script that I had never seen before, and it certainly wasn't Kevin’s handwriting. Maybe Jacob’s? I put the note aside and unwrap the tissue paper to take out the dress and my jaw drops. I pull out a ball gown that was wine red and had a lace strapless top with a semi-poofy skirt attached. Below it were gold open toed high heels. I laid everything down on my bed and reached for the small bag that was on top. Without checking first, I pull out what was in that bag and gasp. In my hands is a beautiful gold mask with black silk fabric to wrap around my eyes. Fuck. Kevin never mentioned it being a masquerade ball? Now I have a higher chance of running into Lee Sangyeon since I probably won’t be able to tell who's who.

I send Kevin a quick text saying thank you for the dress, cursing him out for not telling me that piece of info. To finish my day, I made my dinner and went to bed early.

Friday night at 6:45pm, found me applying my last coat of lipstick as I stood up from my vanity chair. Staring back at me in the mirror was a completely different person. I loosely curled my long straight hair so it was falling down my back in waves. My makeup was not too heavy, yet not too light. My eyeshadow was a nude colour to contrast with my mask, as well as my lipstick was wine red to match my gown. The dress and shoes fit me perfectly (thanks Kevin), as well as the finishing touch, the gold mask.

My phone beeps and I looked down to see a text that the car Kevin sent for me was here, so I grabbed my phone and clutch and locked up my apartment. “Goodbye bed, I’ll see you later tonight.” I thought to myself, smirking.

The car waiting for me downstairs was gorgeous and sleek, and when I entered the back seat, the driver tipped his hat at me and we were on our way.

After driving 20 mins out of the city, the driver turns onto a single sided road where in the distance, I could see a huge house with bright lights shining.

“Oh my god.” I whispered to myself as the driver pulled up to a mansion - no - castle with a staircase leading to the entrance. The car stops and I could feel myself start to get nauseous. The driver came to open my door, lending me a hand so I could get out of the car safely.

“Have a great evening, Miss y/n.”

“Thank you, I do hope so.” I smile softly as I turned to walk up the staircase on this warm June evening.

As I was walking in the big hallway that led to what I'm guessing is the ballroom, I went over my rules for tonight. 1) Don't trip 2) stay with Kevin 3) avoid Sangyeon at all costs.

But of course, when the guards opened the big double doors for me to enter, everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at me as I walked further into the room. I see someone come forward from the crowd of people and my eyes go wide because I know it is not Kevin or Jacob.

Lee Sangyeon is walking towards me like he had been waiting for this moment, and there was nothing I could do about it.

He looks amazing of course, like a walking marble statue that came to life. His light brown hair was pushed back to reveal his amazing eyebrows and smirking lips and he was dressed in a black velvet suit that was so low cut that I could see a glimpse of his defined pecs. He wore a black velvet mask over his brown eyes. Sangyeon had me very much weak at the knees right now so thank god everyone went back to minding their own business.

“Y/n! I'm so glad you could make it.” He smiles at me. That goddamn smile. “You look exquisite.” Sangyeon said to me as he reached down, grabs my hand and softly kisses it while staring at me.

My breath hitches. “You don’t look too bad yourself.” I softly smile at him. “Now excuse me,” I whisper, attempting to create some distance. But his hand on mine got tighter. “May I have this dance?” Sangyeon asks. I nod my head, not sure what took over me. He softly smiles at me and leads me toward the dance floor, where other couples are dancing already. As we were nearing the dance floor, I felt myself trip over my gown. Before I could faceplant with the floor, rough hands were on my waist pulling me up.

“Be careful y/n.” Sangyeon chuckles and I thought I would throw up on his designer shoes.

He puts my hands on his neck and grabs my waist to pull me close to him. Sangyeon starts to sway me back and forth, eyes never leaving mine. As we danced for a few minutes, I felt his thumb lightly brush against my hip bone and I saw him slightly leaning his face towards mine. I finally jumped out of the trance he put me in and unwrapped my arms from his neck.

“I can’t do this. Excuse me.” I told Sangyeon as I brushed past him, leaving him on the dancefloor alone.

I speed walk over to the bar and spot a familiar black head of curls standing with a brunette boy wearing a similar tux.

“Where have you been, asshole?” I yell behind Kevin, making him jump and then smile at me.

“Hey y/n you made it! Meet Jacob, my boyfriend.” He gestures towards the man next to him wearing the same mask.

“Nice to meet you, Jacob. Kev, I'm getting a drink and then calling a cab to leave. I can’t be here.” I say while looking around.

Before Kevin could say anything back, I turned my back to him and ordered red wine from the nearest bartender. I sigh and drink my wine and look over at the guy who is standing next to me.

“Rough night?’ He smiles at me.

“You could say that.” I smile back as I drank more of my wine.

He chuckles and extends his hand to me.”I’m Bang Chan.”

“Y/n.” I shake his hand back.

His smile faded once I said my name.”You’re Lee’s girl?”

I stare wide eyed at him. “I'm who's girl??”

Before he could answer me, a body was standing between us. Sangyeon.

“Piss off Bang, she's mine.” Sangyeon growls at him.

“Excuse me?” I said but no one seems to hear me.

“Chill out Lee, I was just getting to know her, but I’ll leave.” Bang Chan waves bye to me behind Sangyeon’s back and walks away.

Sangyeon turned around and looked at me, his defined jaw clenching tightly.

“Y/n, we are leaving.” He states.

“I am not going anywhere with you!” I yell back while a muscle in his jaw twitches as he clenches his hands into a fist.

“Y/n. I suggest you go with him before he tries to shoot someone, because he will.” Kevin appears and says behind me, squeezing my shoulder. I just nod my head at Sangyeon. Kevin would never put me in danger. Right?

Before I could even say bye, Sangyeon grabs my hand and is leading me out the ballroom door, out of the castle and towards his car.

He opens the passenger seat car door for me. “Get in.” He says to me. I glare at him as I get in slowly.

Sangyeon shuts the door and walks over to the driver side, gets in, takes his mask off, and starts the car without even saying anything. And we are off to god knows where.

The entire drive was silent. Sangyeon is gripping the wheel tightly, rough fingers scattered with rings turning white. I'm too scared to move, only moving my hands to remove my mask and my heels that were starting to hurt my feet.

20 minutes later, we are back in the city and Sangyeon is pulling into a parking garage surrounded by guards. He pulls into a parking spot, and leaves the car after stopping it. I open the car door to follow him, barefoot and all.

In the elevator I kept trying to glance over at Sangyeon, but he’s looking straight ahead, defined jaw still clenched. The elevator door opens and I gasp. I walk out behind Sangyeon to see a beautiful penthouse common area surrounded by glass windows overlooking the city night sky.

Before I could even admire the place and the city lights that surrounded the room, my back is being pushed against a hard wall to face a livid Sangyeon. He grabs my wrists and leans in.

“How dare you talk to other men, especially him.” Sangyeon growls in my ear. “You’re mine.”

I stare at him in disbelief as he faces me again. “I-I will never be yours. You can't tell me what to do.”

A smirk slowly appears on his face. “Oh yeah? We will see about that, princess.”

Before I could even think of a witty response back, Sangyeon grabbed my face and his lips were on mine, and I felt my tough interior crumble as I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him even closer, bodies touching.

He kisses me again. And again. Like he is possessing me. And it was working as I kissed him back hard. “You are mine” Sangyeon whispers against my lips. “No one else’s.” Sangyeon starts kissing down my neck, lightly sucking on certain parts, while I’m biting my lip trying to hold back my moans. It felt so goddamn good, but I'm stubborn and didn't want him to have the upper hand. Sangyeon sucks hard on the crook of my neck, making me release my lips and moan as I feel him smirk against my neck. He won, I lost and now I am melting into his touch.

Sangyeon kisses my shoulders and exposed collarbones, stops and chuckles into the crook of my neck.

“You know I picked this dress for you. Not Kevin.” he says while unzipping my gown.

“What?” I whisper, shocked.

“You heard me.” Then my dress is on the ground, leaving me in just my black strapless bra and panties. Sangyeon is staring at my body with lust covered eyes as I just stare back at him, both of us breathing heavily, a boner starting to appear in his velvet suit pants.

“Wow, you’re so fucking beautiful.” He says quickly before kissing me again hard on the lips, shoving each other's tongues deep inside our mouths.

“Jump” He mumbles against my mouth and I obey, wrapping my legs around him as he carries me to his bedroom, never breaking the kiss.

When we enter his room, he lays me down softly on the huge mattress and proceeds to take my bra off, leaving me topless.

“God, these tits.” I hear him growl as I hiss at the cold air hitting my bare breasts, but the hissing quickly turns into moans as Sangyeon takes my right nipple into his mouth and sucks on it while playing with the other one using his hand.

“Fuck.” I moan loudly, mouth parting.

After rotating, sucking and playing with my breasts, Sangyeon removes his mouth from my nipple and starts to kiss down my stomach, inching towards my panties.

“You're such a good girl for me.” He coos on my stomach as I moan and squirm. Sangyeon brushes his fingers lightly against the fabric of my panties and looks up at me and mouths “you sure?” I nod my head back. He smiles before removing my panties with his teeth. I am now bare naked in front of a fully clothed Lee Sangyeon.

Sangyeon positions himself right in front of my pussy and spreads my legs open as I gasp and watch him lean down. He kisses and sucks on both my thighs, guaranteeing hickeys in those spots later on.

“You’re so fucking ethereal, Y/n.” Sangyeon mumbles and kisses the tops of my thighs softly, and before I could even think, his mouth was on my clit and I scream.

“FUCK Sangyeon oh my god!” I arch my back and moan loud as he licks into my clit.

“So wet me for me already.” He murmurs against my pussy.

He starts to suck and kiss my clit and I can’t breathe. I could feel his tongue exploring my entire pussy, eating it up as if it was his favorite food. My hands found his soft light brown hair and as I ran my hands through it, he sucked on my clit even harder. After for what seemed like seconds, Sangyeon comes up for air and proceeds to put a finger slowly in my hole, pumping in and out.

“You tasted so good, I can’t wait to see how you take my fingers and then my cock.” Sangyeon rasps out as he adds another finger as I'm a moaning mess below him.

“FUCK! Im gonna-” “Cum for me babygirl.” He says while pumping his fingers faster. I arch my back and scream his name while I cum onto his rough digits. He removes them from my pussy and sucks on the juices that got on them.

“Tastes so sweet.” He says while licking his fingers clean and staring directly at my hooded eyes and parted mouth.

Before I can even catch my breath, his lips are on mine quickly, stands up from the bed and unbuttons his blazer, revealing his amazing toned upper body and taking off his pants and boxers, cock slapping against his abs. He was huge, I gulp knowing that that's going to be inside me soon.

“I'm on the pill!” I hear myself blurt out. Sangyeon chuckles at that.

“Good to know y/n.” He says with a smile while running a hand through his hair before positioning himself over my body, hands on each side of me and aligning his cock with my hole.

“This is gonna hurt.” I thought to myself, since the last time I had sex was high school and it was awful to say the least.

Sangyeon starts to slide his dick in slowly and I can’t breathe again.

“Fuck. You're such a tight baby girl.” He rasps out as I let out a string of curses.

Sangyon thrusts into me slowly at first, but when he realizes i'm no longer screaming and just moaning, he removes his cock and slams it back into me hard and fast, which makes me lose my mind. He swears under his breath a few times before he speeds up the movements. I wrap my arms and legs around him, leaving scratches on his back as he leans closer to me and touches his forehead with mine.

“You're so beautiful sprawled out like this under me princess.” he growls into my ear as he thrusts even harder into my pussy, making both of us swear and moan each other's names as I move my hands from his back to his hair and he moves his to play with my nipples.

Between Sangyeon pinching my nipples and his cock tearing me open, the pleasure flowing through right now is something I have never felt before.

“Shit y/n!” Sangyeon grunts and thrusts hard once more into my pussy and pulls his dick out and uses his right hand to pump out his orgasm all over my stomach. His other hand reaches down to rub my clit in circles while kissing my neck and leaving more hickeys to help ride out my second orgasm of the night.

“Fuck Sangyeon!” I scream as I release all over his fingers once again. He licks it up again and mumbles “so sweet princess.” while looking at my dilated pupils.

He gets off me and rolls over so that he's beside my overstimulated body but head is tilted towards my direction.

“Are you okay?” Sangyeon asks me, concerned eyes looking over my shaking body that's struggling to even look at where he is.

“I'm amazing.” I respond back softly, him sighing in relief as he strokes my cheek with his knuckle.

“I've wanted to do this for so long.” He whispers and smiles softly at me.

“Me too.” I whisper back smiling as he kisses my lips softly and jumps out of bed, and runs into the connected bathroom fully naked leaving me alone in his huge bed, body paralyzed.

Sangyeon returns with a washcloth and a bowl of warm water and moves my shaking body so I'm lying on his leg while he dips the cloth in the water and starts to clean me up.

“You did so well for me. You were so beautiful when you came. So beautiful for me.” He murmurs to me fondly, rubbing the cloth over my body tenderly as I'm falling in and out of slumber. As I fall asleep, Sangyeon gets into bed next to me and tucks us both in. He kisses my forehead and wraps his arms around my waist and I rest my head on his chest.

“What a night.” I think to myself before dozing off in Sangyeons strong arms, moonlight shining through the huge windows.

Tomorrow is a new day, where we decide what happens next. But one thing's for sure.

I am addicted to Lee Sangyeon.

Light shines through the windows as I open my eyes to an unfamiliar surrounding, and then it hits me. I had mindblowing sex with Lee Sangyeon and now I am lying naked, tangled in his bedsheets. I feel an arm loosely draped around my bare waist. As I sigh and glance over next to me, I find Sangyeon lying on his side, staring at me with fond eyes.

“Good morning, beautiful.” He whispers to me in his deep morning voice. Swoon.

“Good morning, handsome.” I whisper back to him with a smile on my face.

I untangle myself from his arm, and attach my lips softly to his. Sangyeon does not react at first, but proceeds to kiss me back softly and full of tenderness as he cups my face into his hands. I break the kiss and lay my head on his bare chest.

“Last night was amazing.” Sangyeon murmurs into my hair and kisses my temple as I nod back.

Oh fuck, I just remembered. I sat up and faced the man with wide eyes.

“What's wrong baby?” Sangyeon asks, genuinely concerned.

“Fuck, what do I tell Kevin?” I gape at him.

Sangyeon chuckles loudly, eyes crinkling as he grabs my waist and pulls me down towards him. He tickles me, making me laugh.

After lying in bed for what seemed like hours and just talking, Sangyeon reaches over to the night table next to him. He grabs his phone and starts to furiously type as I just stare at his fingers flying across the screen.

“I told Jacob he is in charge over at the house this weekend, which means I get to spend it all with you.” He says as he puts his phone back down. Apparently, now I was spending the weekend at Sangyeon’s luxury penthouse. Good thing I didn’t have work this weekend.

After taking a shower in Sangyeon’s massive ensuite bathroom (and looking at myself in the mirror, in shock at the sight of my hickeys across my body), I changed into the clothes he left me, which seems to be his boxers and a blue and pink pullover sweater. I walk out of the bedroom towards the kitchen to find a very shirtless Sangyeon putting waffles on the island counter. He briefly explained to me earlier that he sent all his staff home, including his cooks, so it could just be us in the penthouse.

“Wow, waffles? You really know the way to a girl's heart.” I say amused as I take a seat on one of the island chairs.

He laughs loud and leans over the island, arms resting on the counter. “It's one of the only things I know how to make, so expect take out the rest of the weekend.” Sangyeon says with a smile on his beautiful face as I wolfed down the waffles in front of me.

“One day I’ll teach you how to cook.” I wink at him.

Sangyeon grabs my hand softly and rubs his thumb over my knuckles and kisses them softly. “I would love that, y/n.” He says with a smile on his face.

The rest of the day is spent just relaxing. Sangyeon shows me around his penthouse, from his impressive indoor gym to his walk in closet in which he implies that will once be mine as well. I ignore his comment. Afterwards, he shows me the tv room where a massive flat screen was attached to the wall and asks me to pick a movie, which I pick The Notebook.

“Really y/n?” Sangyeon rolls his eyes as he sets the movie up.

“Yes Sangyeon really. Now come sit here and enjoy.” I respond as I pat the spot on the leather couch next to me.

After the movie, and laughing at an almost crying Sangyeon, I go to retrieve my phone from my clutch to find 15 missed calls from Kevin.

“Oh good! He didn't kill you!” Kevin cries in my ear after picking up after the first ring.

“Yes Kev, I'm totally fine.” I respond quietly.

“Did you guys fuck?” Kevin asks and when I don’t respond, he screams into the phone, which makes me cringe and move the device away from my ear.

“OMG I KNEW IT YOU HAVE TO TELL ME EVERYTHING! WAS HIS DICK AS BIG AS JACOB AND I THOUGHT?” He yells into the phone as I softly chuckle and proceeds to tell everything to a panicking Kevin.

“Holy shit. I owe Eric $50.” Kevin sighs into the phone after I explained everything to him.

“You were betting on me? Anyways I don't even wanna know.” I say annoyed.

“Are you guys like a thing now?” He asks me.

“I'm not entirely sure.” I reply unsure.

“Well no matter what, I support you sweetcheeks.” Kevin assures.

I snort. “Thanks Kev, right back at you. Gotta go now eat dinner, I'll update you later.”

Kevin laughs. “Enjoy Sangyeons big d-” I hung up on him.

That night found Sangyeon and I, fully clothed, cuddled in bed and holding each other, just listening to each other's heartbeat and making small talk.

“Sangyeon, how did you become the leader of TBZ?” I asked, looking up at him from where my head was on his chest.

He sighs and looks straight ahead. “For generations, a Lee has always led the gang, no matter what. It was between my cousins and myself, but my elders picked me, as my dad was the former leader before he passed and I've always been a leader, even since I was a young boy,” Sangyeon replies.

“I’m so sorry.” I say to him. He smiles softly and kisses my cheek.

“Don’t worry about me princess. Tell me, what are you studying?” He asks me.

“I'm studying childhood studies and english lit so after I graduate I can enroll in a teachers college. I wanna be an elementary school teacher.” I answer him proudly.

Sangyeon smiles at me fondly. “You will be an amazing teacher.” He says while stroking my face with his hands. He kisses me softly as I melt into his touch.

After not being so sure about Sangyeon, I have come to realize how amazing he is. I can feel myself starting to like him more and more each day.

I am his and he is mine and in the end, it's him and I.

Months pass, and Sangyeon and I can’t get enough of each other. Everyday when I finish my shift at work, he picks me up and we either go to his place or mine to have dinner. Last week I even taught him how to boil pasta! But, sometimes we don’t even make it to dinner because I end up riding him in the back of his luxury car. Whoops.

One day while we were lying in bed after having sex, I sat up.

“Wait Sangyeon, what are we?” I asked him, facing where he was lying on his back.

Sangyeon sat up next to me. “Well y/n, I'm extremely fond of you and think you are the most intelligent and beautiful girl I have ever laid eyes on, and I wish to give you nothing but happiness and satisfaction. I would love nothing more than for you to be my girlfriend,” He says to me, a glimmer in his eyes.

I stare at him, shocked because no one has ever said anything like this to me, and then I felt myself smile at him as I wrap my arms around his shoulders.

“Yes Lee Sangyeon, I will be your girlfriend. I will be yours.”

He smiles wide back at me. “Then you are all mine.” He whispers back as he connects his lips with mine for a passionate kiss.

Kevin thinks it’s hilarious that I wear more turtlenecks more often, which always makes me turn beet red. Because when Sangyeon and I have sex, he doesn’t just bite, he chews on my body like a fucking dog (“Doesnt it feel so good though?” “Kevin I swear to god.”) I have also gotten to meet Sangyeon’s entire gang, made up of 11 men including himself, and watching Sangyeon speak to them so confidently and leader-like makes my heart flutter. Yeah, I definitely think I’ve fallen in love with Lee Sangyeon.

A rainy Thursday afternoon found me finishing up my shift at work, getting ready to close the cafe as the only employee left. Sangyeon had texted me earlier saying he couldn't pick me up today due to an important meeting, so I was stuck walking home alone. Which was fine with me since my apartment was only a ten minute walk from the cafe.

As I was locking up the cafe doors, I heard a car engine behind me. I turned around smiling, expecting to see Sangyeon, but my smile faded, when the window opened and Bang Chan was in the passenger seat, pointing a gun at me.

“Y/n. Get in the car right now so no one gets hurt.” He commands me in a monotone voice.

“Never.” I sneer back at him and start to back away from the car.

“Fine. Guess we are doing this the hard way.” He replies.

Before I could sprint away, someone appeared behind me, put a cloth to my mouth and grabbed my waist. As the world around me went black, all I could think was, “Lee Sangyeon is going to murder you for stealing his girl.”

Blood. Blood is dripping from a gash in my forehead when I regain consciousness. I look around frantically to find myself in what looked like an abandoned warehouse with my hands and legs tied together with heavy rope.

“Help!” I scream loudly, but that did not do anything for my situation. Instead, Bang Chan enters with another man holding a rifle and I feel another scream forming in my throat. The rope tied around my hands and legs were digging into my flesh and I could feel blood emerging from them.

“Ah y/n! Lee’s playtoy! Glad to see you awake!” Bang Chan claps and smiles at me wickedly while I just glare back.

“TBZ knows you're with us sweetheart.” He says. “We told them it's either you or the money.”

My mouth opens and then closes. “What money? I swear I don't know anything, he never tells me about his work,” I cry to him.

“LIES!” Bang Chan screams. “Han. Go get her.” The other man - Han - walks over to me, ignites the rifle and puts it against my head hard. I start to cry even harder and squirm in my spot even though I feel the rope burning getting worse.

“We are going to try this again y/n. Where is the money?” Bang Chan yells into my face. I spat at him and Han forced the gun to my already bleeding forehead harder.

“I'm done. Shoot her.” Bang Chan shouts.

“No, please don't shoot!” I cry, knowing nothing will make a difference.

As I felt Han press down on the trigger, I stop thrashing and sat still. At this point, there was nothing I could do to stop this myself.

Lee Sangyeon, don't forget about me.

“DON’T FUCKING TOUCH HER!” A familiar voice yells behind Bang Chan.

I wail loud with my last bit of strength I had. “Help m-” BOOM!

Around me, I see the building collapse, rubble hitting my head as it knocks me over. Gunshots were loud and clear although my ears were ringing loud.

The last thing I remember before blacking out again were strong arms pulling me out of rubble.

Beeping. White ceiling. That is what I see and hear when I finally regain consciousness again. Looking around the plain room, I can see that I’m in a hospital bed. There is a bandage on my head and I can feel both my wrists and feet bandaged tightly, as well as an IV in my right arm. I move my head to the right slowly to the hallway window and see guards are positioned outside the hospital room. “Anything for Lee Sangyeon’s girl.” I think to myself and chuckle.

Wait. Sangyeon. Where is he? Is he alive?

“Hey sweet cheeks.” I hear a voice from the other side of the room. I slowly turn my head to see Kevin standing up from the couch that is in front of my bed and smiling at me.

“I'm glad you're okay. You woke up earlier than the doctors thought. You don’t have to worry about the Stray Kids gang anymore. They all died in the explosion.” He explains to me.

I nod my head slowly.

“Sangyeon. Where is Sangyeon?” I rasp out to Kevin.

Kevin softly smirks and shakes his head at the ground. “He's okay, he was here a few minutes ago, he hasn’t left your side in days. I’ll go get him, he's just getting his bandages touched up. He got injured in the explosion while pulling you out of the rubble.” Kevin tells me as I feel tears in my eyes. He would’ve sacrificed himself to save my life.

After patting my head softly, Kevin left the room to get Sangyeon, leaving me alone crying softly.

“Y/n.” I gasp and sit up and look towards the door, where the love of my life, Lee Sangyeon is standing with white bandages on his left arm and tears streaming down his scratched up, but beautiful face. Seeing him standing in front of me, makes me cry even harder. Without saying anything, I rip the IV out of my arm, slide out of the bed and jump into Sangyeons arms, and engulf him in a hug, which he gladly returns.

“I thought I lost you.” I cry into his shoulder as he sits down on the bed with me on his lap. I move my head to stare into his beautiful eyes, that still have his usual shimmer, even after all that has happened. “You'll never lose me.” He whispers fondly as he cups my face in his hands and wipes away my tears softly with his right thumb.

Sangyeon held me like I was a broken doll, fragile but sweet. He whispered sorry to me over and over again, which I quickly shushed and ran a bandaged hand through his soft brown hair.

“I love you so much.” I say to him, grabbing his neck softly and pulling him towards me.

“I love you more princess.” He says while smiling wide at me, which made me smile back at him as we connected foreheads.

“God Sangyeon. Go take a shower you stink.” I say to him as we enter his penthouse after being in the hospital for days, which ended with the doctor clearing both of us. I got the bandages on my head, hands, and feet, and he got his bandages removed.

“And you don’t smell y/n?” He smirks at me as I scoff. “Shower with me.” He says, eyes darkening as my breath hitches.

“Okay.” I nod, and we are on our way to his huge ensuite bathroom.

We both strip out of our dirty clothes and get into the massive glass shower, me going in first with Sangyeon following.

I watch him pump the liquid from the shampoo bottle into his hands, and lather the shampoo into my hair as he stands behind me.

“You’re so fucking beautiful Y/n” Sangyeon tells me as I lean my back into his chest. His hands lightly trace my body, lingering on my lower stomach and my breasts. I could feel his erection growing, and being the little greedy bitch I am, I grind down on it slowly. All of a sudden, he turns me around and attaches his lips to mine hard, and we are both caught in a rough make out session. He breaks the kiss and stares at me with lust clouded eyes.

“Are you gonna take care of this princess?” Sangyeon asks me while his eyes are motioning to his cock.

“Yes Sir.” I reply, not sure where that came from, as he pushes my shoulders down lightly and I feel myself fall to my knees.

Without thinking, I grab his hard cock with my hands and pump it a few times.I licked the slit tasting the precum that had come out, before sinking my mouth down his shaft softly, making him swear under his breath.

“Fuck you’re such a good girl. You suck my cock so well.” He hisses while grabbing my hair and guiding my head back and forth while I lap up his precum. He guides my head so that I swallow his cock and I gag on it a bit, which makes him growl loudly. My watering eyes glanced up at Sangyeon to see his head tilted back, mouth open partially.

“Fuck y/n I’m gonna cum. Gonna dirty up that hot mouth of yours.” Sangyeon rasps out as I feel his hot cum go down my throat as he rides out his orgasm. I release myself from his dripping cock and swallow the cum that had landed in my mouth.

“Fuck y/n. Princess. You're so good at that.” He cooes at me while helping me stand up and kisses me quickly and firmly on the mouth.

“Do I get something for being good, Sir?” I ask him while batting my eyes together, trying to pout as much as I could.

“That depends, what do you want? You want me to fuck you in this shower until you can't walk” He asks me loudly.

“God yes!” I answer him. Sangyeon picks me up like I weigh nothing as I wrap my legs and arms around his broad body.

“FUCK!” I scream as Sangyeon slams his cock into my pussy without any warning.

“You’re so fucking tight, shit.” Sangyeon curses under his breath.

I moan like crazy as Sangyeon fucks me hard, every thrust hitting my g-spot.

“You feel so good y/n. Your tight pussy feels amazing around my cock.” He rasps out before sucking on my jaw, making me arch my back and moan. I could feel my orgasm coming already. Sangyeon is a sex god and he knew how to have me cumming within seconds.

“I'm gonna cum in you, y/n, ok? I want you to feel my hot cum inside of you.” He growls in my ear as I loudly moan. I couldn't even answer him, I just nodded my head while leaving scratches on his back.

“FUCK!” We both scream and cum at the same time, I shudder feeling Sangyeons hot load entering my pussy. He drops his head onto my shoulder, whispering praise in my ear as I'm shaking in his arms. Both of us panting and sweating, even underneath the water. When he pulls his cock out, his cum and my cum is dripping fast out of my pussy. Sangyeon puts me down but I start to fall over, so he catches me and starts to snicker.

“Well I guess we have to take a real shower now and clean ourselves up.” He says amusingly as I roll my eyes and smack his chest as he laughs.

June 2021, I finally graduate college! As my name is being called, shouts and cheers come from the audience as I look and see the entire TBZ gang jumping up and down. My smile grows even bigger when I'm shaking the headmaster's hand and see Sangyeon, my boyfriend of one year, in the audience holding a bouquet of red roses with a huge proud smile on his face. After enrolling in teacher’s college and officially moving in with Sangyeon, Kevin announces to everyone over a gang family dinner that he and Jacob are getting married, and that I'm his best person, which makes the whole gang erupt in chaos. Sangyeon has to calm everyone down, and congratulates the happy couple fondly, knowing that everyone will be as supportive when he finally asks his best girl to marry him.

Two months later I found myself at the MoonBae wedding. During the reception, Kevin calls all the non-married men and women to the dance floor so he can throw the bouquet. What shocks everyone the most is when I catch it, making Kevin and Jacob both scream and tackle me in a hug. Sangyeon chokes on his glass of scotch and turns purple watching the whole event unfold.

Sangyeon proposes to me one quiet night four months after Kevin and Jacob’s wedding as we are both drinking wine and watching the sunset on his penthouse balcony.

“Y/n, You are the most amazing thing that has ever happened to me.” He says to me with tears in eyes as he gets down on one knee. “Will you marry me?” Sangyeon asks.

“Yes! Of course I’ll marry you. ” I answer him crying.

Sangyeon smiles wide at me and picks me up and spins me around before kissing me passionately.

“I love you so much y/n l/n.”

“I love you more Lee Sangyeon.”

“You’re mine forever.”

“And I'm yours.”

well i hope you enjoyed! sorry if it was bad or rushed again it was my first time hehe

stream breaking dawn and support tbz on kingdom :D

209 notes · View notes

slut4supersoldiers · 3 years

Text

As long as you need

Chris Evans X reader

Summary: You have a bad day but Chris makes it slightly better.

Words: no idea. I literally wrote this in my notes app. Sorry!

Warning: mentions of anxiety, stress, typos and My writing in general lol!

Rating: angst to fluff U/A

A/n: This is a very, very self- indulgent one shot. I’ve been having the highest of highs and extreme lowest lows lately and today has been the latter. So here’s me indulging in my personal antidote to my never ending sorrow. Hope it makes you feel a little lighter too.

A sigh left (y/n)’s lips. She was tired whether it was from the commute or her colleagues or her crippling anxiety was debatable. Perhaps it was a combination of all three. At this point she couldn’t care less. All she wanted to do was to lie down and cry till the fatigue drove her to sleep. Off late the tears had been her only lullaby. Unwelcomed but strangely cathartic! Tonight was no different, she thought as she got ready for bed. Her chest was already feeling heavy; breathing uneven, a tale tell sign of what was about to come next.

But her routine was disrupted by the soft vibration coming from her phone. Putting away the bottle of lotion she reached out to her device.

The bright light from her phone washed the room in a glow. “Christopher” the letters read. And for a moment she smiled.

“Am I disturbing you?” (Y/n) sighed again.

“No Christopher!” He chuckled.

“You aren’t gonna stop calling me that are you?” He tried to sound exasperated but how can he stay mad at her.

“No. Never! I am actually thinking of recording you the next time you sing poohs corner and set that as your special ringtone.” His half hearted resistance followed by a hearty laugh made multiple butterflies rise in her stomach.

She hated the way he could change her mood in an instant. She hated the effect he had on her. How his mere existence was enough to send her heart into an overdrive and make her palms all sweaty and leave her tongue tied. She also hated that she couldn’t say all this to him.

Think about your friendship (y/n). Think about how he thinks of you as nothing but a friend.

She was spiralling again. She didn’t want to feel any worse so she chose to focus on his voice instead.

“How are you doing bambi?” It was now her turn to protest.

“You need to quit it! That was one time.”

“Oh no bambi! I’ll stop calling you that the moment you stop tripping on your own two feet.” A guttural laugh escaped his lips and she could almost see him leaning back with a hand on his chest. She wished she could actually see him. More now than ever.

Silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable though, it never was with him.

“Never answered my question.” She wished they could stay silent longer than taking about her god awful day. But maybe that could help.

“It was...long.” (Y/n) mumbled.

“Wanna talk about it?” He questioned, cautious enough to not push her too much. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable.

“How long you got?” She chuckled, the tears not far away from making an appearance.

“As long as it takes for you to feel better.” How can kindness ever move someone to tears? Maybe it’s the rarity of its occurrence, especially in her life, that made her emotional. A simple nod and smile in her direction from a stranger would make her bawl then how could she resist the emotions bubbling inside of her when the man she absolutely adored spoke to her as kindly as a mother would to her child.

“You’ll make me cry Christopher.” She wiped her wet eyes.

“Sometimes I find that helps. Don’t hold back. Even if it’s for a while, cry. Scream in the pillow if you’d like. Can’t say dodger feels as good as I do after that though.” He smiled as he heard a wet laugh leave her lips.

He knew she was crying. She was emotional. Always had been and he hated himself for not being able to be there. The only thing he wanted more than being able to hold her was the urge to destroy everything under the sun that bothered her.

Tone it down Chris. Don’t go taking advantage of her state. She needs a friend right now. That’s all you are a friend.

They sighed. And (y/n) began to speak. He lied down on his bed and so did she. The soft words of encouragement that left his mouth were like a balm to the everlasting pain. And she felt fine. Really fine. For a moment there was no burden; no toxic co workers, no irate clients, no responsibilities, no anticipation for a better future, no regrets from the past. There was silence and it wasn’t uncomfortable. They could never make each other uncomfortable.

And as (y/n) felt the slumber taking over she thanked the heavens that this time it was his voice that lulled her to sleep. And had they not been trying to toe the line between friendship and love; maybe they would’ve professed their undying love for one another. But the silence and the soft whispers were enough this time.

Part 2

#Chris Evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut #chris evans fluff #chris evans one shot #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers x y/n #andy barber x reader

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youareinlovees · 3 years

Text

Rep Tour Metlife Night 3 (submission)

The roar of the stadium fills the atmosphere like a thunderstorm as the expectators anticipate the start of the show. Though this isn't the first time he attends one of her concerts, the massiveness of the crowd and of the performance itself is still quite astonishing to him. It just wasn't the type of thing you got used to after a few times. Not to mention that this is the third consecutive night she fills out this stadium, which was impressive and a rather unheard of situation.

"Are you ready for it?"

The crowd screams even louder as Taylor appears on stage with a black hood. For him, it's genuinely entertaining to see just how much the fans in the crowd love her, shouting out every single word to the songs. The impact she has on these people is really intense, some of them even crying at certain parts of the show. There's others that you can tell came as a group of friends for a good time and they hug, jump, and laugh together throughout the show. There's people of all ages, from couples in love to families that came together with little kids and grandparents, and every single person looks happy and excited. Truly a phenomenon.

But the most powerful phenomenon is the woman on stage on whom everyone's attention is focused. She is so beautiful and wonderful it almost feels like she's some sort of mythical creature. The passion she puts in her singing and dancing is endearing and at the same time very attractive to him. How did he even manage to have her love him? She's fucking gorgeous and perfect in every way. Her legs are just unbelievably hot and he knows he isn't the only one in the crowd having that thought. When she dances to Gorgeous, it makes his brain feel numb because all he can think of is the things he wants to do with her as soon as he gets her to himself after the show. But it's only the beginning and he knows the wait will be painfully long, so he tries to divert his thoughts elsewhere. As if reading his mind, she winks in his direction as the song ends, licking her lips and smiling cheekily. Warmth floods his insides in response to the gesture. Man, he'd really really missed her. They'd been apart from each other for some days because he had work things to do away in London. Though it was only a few days, he had ached for her company every single instant.

Apparently, she has similar feelings because she can't stop looking in his direction throughout King of my Heart. He remembers very vividly the first time she played him that song, some days after they'd made their relationship official. At the time, he couldn't believe she'd actually written that about him. He couldn't believe he inspired those feelings in her because she sure as hell inspired that and so much more in him. She fixes her gaze on him hungrily as she sings "we rule the kingdom inside my room." Oh shit. Her bum looks so good in that outfit. How is he gonna survive what's left of the show? Luckily, he's good at keeping it cool on the outside. He has no choice anyways because his mum and Patrick are right there beside him. He knows his face probably looks all giddy and lovestruck regardless, but he doesn't mind. She points at him in circles suggestively as she says "never took me quite where you do." Urgh she knows what she's doing and he can't help chuckling at her teasing. It's torture though. The fact that she's doing this in front of thousands of people is extra sexy. It's interesting because a part of him feels possessive and wants to snatch her from the stage and not have anyone look at her in a "she's MINE" sort of way, but at the same time it's satisfying to know that she's doing all this sexy shit and making everybody desire her, yet he is the only one who gets to have her. He's the only one who gets to love her and enjoy her, and a lot of what she's doing up there is directed specifically at him even though the whole stadium's watching it. Besides, he just knows that she loves having those secret moments with him, as she sings in Dress. So cruel of her to put literal moans on that song and blast them on stadiums. Her antics as she performs it are driving him crazy. Tonight, he feels particularly deprived of her and desperate for her touch because he's been away for what has felt like an eternity.

The crowd bursts into loud screaming one last time as the show ends. Everyone looks giddy and happy, as if they'd just gotten off a spiritual experience, which isn't that far from the truth, he thinks to himself. His mum and Patrick stay chatting with some people and he makes his way towards the dressing room. He says hi to Tree and the staff briefly and walks further down the hall until he reaches it. The door is open and there's no one else but her inside, with her back facing him as she looks in the mirror wiping herself with a towel. She's still sweaty and flustered from the show, and her hair is a bit messy, but she's the most beautiful creature he's ever laid eyes upon. If she looked stunning on stage, she was even more drop dead gorgeous up close.

"You look breathtakingly beautiful this evening, Miss Swift. I heard your boyfriend is out of town, may I take you out for a drink?," he says in a flirtatious tone.

She hadn't realized he was standing there at the door. She immediately looks up at him when she hears his voice and smiles at him through the mirror, her whole face lightening up as she turns around.

"Is that what they told you?", she says playfully as she makes her way towards him. She kisses his lips excitedly. He smiles against her mouth at her enthusiasm.

"Hello, love," he greets her softly when she pulls back for air. They embrace each other tightly for a few seconds, his hands caressing her hair.

"How did it go in London? How was work?," she asks, resting her head on his chest.

"Work was alright. The rest was awfully dull because you weren't there," he answers.

She chuckles softly and looks up into his eyes. "I missed you so much."

"I did, too," he says, staring back. She puts her mouth onto his again, this time more passionate and hungry, her tongue going inside him desperately trying to saviour as much of him as possible. He welcomes it eagerly, her sudden aggressive desire catching him a bit off guard. He responds to her kiss with the same energy, biting her lower lip a little and devouring her delicious taste. His hands rub down her back, pulling her waist towards him. Meanwhile, her fingers snake into his hair as she pulls herself deeper into his mouth. He feels his crotch tighten as he becomes inevitably aroused with her body rubbing against his. His mouth finds her neck and she moans as he pulls her head back gently to get a better angle.

"Shut the door," she pants in between kisses. They'd forgotten that there's people walking by in the hallway.

"Wait, don't you have to meet your fans in the other room?", he remembers, pausing for a moment, which results in a complaining grunt from her.

"I'll have them cancel it," she says decidedly, impatiently pulling him in again, "Most of them came the other two nights anyways."

He pushes her back. "Are you really sure about that?", he questions, raising an eyebrow.

"Do you really want me to answer?", she ponders back desperately, still insisting fiercely on kissing him.

"Fair enough," he chuckles as he gives in to her needs. What Taylor Swift wants, Taylor Swift gets.

She grabs her phone and sends a quick text to Tree telling her that Rep Room isn't happening tonight while Joe shuts and locks the door. He sneaks up behind her and wraps his arms smoothly around her waist, kissing her shoulder as she hits send. "Done?", he asks. She puts the phone on the table and closes her eyes.

"Mmhmm", she moans as he runs kisses up and down her neck. Her skin is so soft and healthy. He grunts a little when her ass grinds against his crotch as she leans back into him.

"You pulled some interesting bits up there tonight."

"Mmhmmm, did you enjoy them?", she says with a small smile, her eyes still closed.

"I certainly did." He starts to unzip her glittery dress to bare her back. Her body is still warm from the physical exertion caused by the almost two hour long show. A shiver runs down her spine when his cold fingers brush against her skin, peeling away the dress as his mouth runs soft kisses behind her neck and shoulders. A loud moan escapes her, the sound making his erection feel even harder in his trousers. She finishes taking off the dress and turns around to face him, her naked breasts against his chest. He grabs one of them as his mouth finds hers once again, his tongue pushing inside in rhythmic movements. Then, he makes his way from her jawline to her neck, shoulders, chest, until he finally puts her other breast in his mouth, sucking and licking her nipple while massaging the other one with his thumb and index finger. She gasps in response. "That feels so good, baby," she whimpers in between moans. Her breasts are a work of art in his eyes, everything about them is perfection: their size, their softness, the hardness of her nipples when she’s aroused, as it was the case right now.

She pulls at the hem of his shirt, aching to feel more of his skin against her. He briefly releases her to quickly take off his shirt and disregard it on the floor. Immediately she pulls herself against him, her hands around his neck as their bare torsos collide heatedly and their tongues dance together. She runs her warm hands over his chest and his abs, sending electricity waves through his body with each touch. The sensation of her hardened nipples against his naked chest was too much to handle and so he dives down to put her breasts in his mouth once again. She moans loudly. "Joe, I...I want you so much," she says, almost in anguish. He licks and bites her nipples hungrily and then, he starts to make his way slowly downward, kissing below her breasts as his hands slide down her sides until he reaches her tummy. She inhales deeply. "Tell me, baby, what do you need?", he says against her skin as his mouth moves further down to her lower stomach. Her body trembles involuntarily in response and he can see her wetness through her panties. She’s very wet, he realizes with a grin. "You," she groans in response, holding onto the table for balance as his hands go up and down the insides of her thighs, "I need you, Joe." He teasingly pulls down the edges of her panties and kisses directly on top of her pubic bone. Her hips thrust forward. "Fuck, I need you now," she blurts out.

"Let’s take care of that, shall we?", he whispers in her ear as he picks her up and carries her towards the comfy couch in the dressing room, her legs wrapping themselves around his back. He throws the cushions to the floor with one hand and places her gently on the couch, kneeling in front of her on one of the cushions. He slides her panties down her legs and onto the floor, so that she was now lying completely naked on the couch. Such a gorgeous sight. "You are so beautiful, my love," he says looking up into her eyes. Her belly moves up and down with her quick breathing, her cheeks flushed slightly. He takes off her shoes and massages her ankles and her toes, releasing the tension on them from wearing tight heels for hours. Then, he starts to kiss his way up her left leg, gently pushing her knees apart to open her legs as he approaches her inner thigh. Finally, his mouth reaches her most sensitive organ and he licks and sucks on her clit, enjoying her delicious taste that he’d missed so much. She arches her back as the waves of pleasure penetrate her. His tongue continues to move around expertly as he digs into the corners of her walls and sucks and bites her clit. "Fuck," she moans, her fingers aggresively digging into the edges of the couch. He slides two fingers deep into her core, his mouth still working on her clit, and starts to thrust in and out. She tangles one of her hands in his hair and pushes him deeper inside her, his tongue joining his fingers inside of her. He gradually quickens the pace of his fingers as her walls contract around his hand and her hips push into him, until eventually she can’t contain her orgasm and comes loudly, screaming his name.

He licks his lips in satisfaction, savoring the fluids from her insides as he moves towards her face to kiss her gently, his fingers still inside her. "Did you like that?", he mumbles against her face. "It was so good, baby," she barely pants in response, "so fucking good". Hovering over her as she recovers, he takes his fingers out and licks them. He could never get enough of her wonderful taste. "I’m glad you liked it, because I’m not finished yet," he informs her.

However, her hands are reaching towards his trousers, where his erection is bulking out, attempting to unbutton them. "No teasing," she pleads.

"What’s that?", he asks instead, deciding to mess with her a little regardless. He’d had to survive her teasing on stage for two hours, it was only fair that she endured something similar after all. He licks the outline of her areolas with the tip of his tongue as slowly and scarcely as he could master, forcing her to lay back, his fingers brushing lightly against her sides. "Joe," she complains, shifting and trying to pull his body closer to her. But Joe holds himself up firmly in a hovering position over her, his skin brushing only ever so slightly against hers every now and then, while his mouth was busy planting the softest of kisses all around her face, occasionally brushing her neck and behind her ears. "Please," she begs, still trying to pull him down.

"Please what? Say it to me, baby. I can’t guess what you want unless you ask for it," he responds calmly while continuing his slow torture on her sensitive spots. He wanted to hear her say it out loud. He wanted to hear her scream how much she wanted him.

"I want you inside of me, Joe. I want all of you inside of me now," she nearly cries out in desperation.

He nibbles on her neck one last time before unbuttoning his trousers. "Is that so?", he says mischievously as he finishes taking off his underpants and shoes. She breathes deeply in anticipation when she sees him completely naked in front of her, her insides feeling overwhelmingly empty without him. He leans towards her mouth once again and she kisses him with hunger, a small gasp escaping her lips when his dick rubs against her clit. "What do you want me to do inside you?", he whispers hoarsely into her ear. "I want you to fuck me, baby," she pants.

"As you wish," he says, staring deep into her blue eyes as he enters her wet insides slowly, groaning from the pleasure of feeling her warm core around him. She gasps and moans, her small fingers digging into his back as she hugs his chest towards hers. He thrusts in and out with slow movements, going inside deeper and deeper each time until he pushes against her cervix. She arches her back and responds moving her hips upwards, moaning and closing her eyes. He goes forward with a bit more strength, pushing her against the couch and touching on her G spot. "Yes, baby, fuck me," she whimpers, her breaths small and quick. Still deep inside of her, he sways his hips rhythmically, rocking their unified bodies back and forth.

"I love you so much, Taylor," he says with adoration. Every inch of skin on his chest was in contact with hers, her soft breasts deliciously cushioned below him. "I love you more, baby," she says back breathlessly, running her lips across his neck and shoulders. He starts thrusting again, gradually picking up the pace. He holds onto the back of the couch and thrusts faster and faster, feeling her walls contracting against his cock. She moans as he goes even faster until she finally comes, another orgasm running through her body as she cries out.

The sight of her body squirming in pleasure almost makes him cum as well. But then, she unexpectedly pushes him to the side, switching their positions so that she was now on top of him. She kisses him and starts riding him energetically, her hands resting on his shoulders and her knees on the couch on either side of him. He grunts and caresses her breasts as she bounces on top of him, eventually placing both hands on her hips to hold her down, until the sensation and the sight of her with her eyes closed and her boobs bouncing as she fucks him become too much and he cums inside of her.

She collapses on top of him and the two of them lay in silence for a few minutes as they recover and stabilize their breathing, their bodies warm and sweaty. When he’s back to his senses, he notices her bathrobe is on the side of the couch and he reaches for it with one hand. He spreads it across her back to keep her warm. Covered with the bathrobe, she cuddles into his lap with her legs on one side and her head resting on his chest as she breathes in and out slowly. He caresses her head with one hand and rubs circles with the other on top of the robe on her back.

"That was a nice surprise there at the end," he says, kissing her forehead.

She smiles smugly. "I thought you’d like it," she mumbles against his chest.

"Did you kick out all the staff before I came in here?", he asks curiously. Usually there were stylists and make-up people inside the dressing rooms with her.

"Maybe," she answers with a smirk, looking up at him playfully. He chuckles in amusement, but secretly he’s glad that she did because he doesn’t know if he would’ve actually been able to wait until they got back to her apartment.

It was hard to believe that this was the same person that had a whole stadium submitted to her performance less than an hour ago. This beautiful creature bundled in his arms was the same powerful force that gave around orders to executives, dominated enormous stages, and attracted followers from all over the world with her songwriting. Yet at this very moment, she’s just another vulnerable human, her blue eyes glowing like a curious child’s as she stares into his lovingly. She reaches up to caress his cheek softly with her hand, scanning his face with wonder. "You’re so gorgeous," she admires quietly. "That was amazing, babe. Thank you."

He leans down to kiss her gently. "You are the most stunningly beautiful creature inside and out that I’ve ever laid eyes upon. I am just fortunate enough to get to be yours," he says sincerely. He touches his nose to hers. "I love you, baby." And he truly loves her so much to the point where it feels like an unexplainable supernatural phenomenon, larger than life itself.

"I love you, too," she says warmly, her face shining like sunlight.

#submission #taylor and joe #taylor and joe fanfiction #taylor swift fanfiction #lets talk swiftwyn

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thekitschdiet · 3 years

Text

my take on the literary masterpiece, the chic diet

Firstly, I am no one. It’s part of my charm. My fifteen minutes of fame was years ago, when I had an instagram niche meme page. I didn’t even take any brand deals! And my posts averaged six thousand likes! Anyhow. I am hardly literate and well hydrated and carry a small sephora-CVS-hybrid worth in my mini tote bag. Here is my guide on how to live like me, the intermediate kitsch-rat, aspiring influencer. But like, in an apathetic, somewhat dissonant, ironic way. I like saying I live by dogmatic principles. But a lot of it, um, is just eating disorder rituals. But that’s not really important. You’re as hot as you say you are, and as much an authority on what you write so long as you say it with, you know, conviction. It’s kind of venerable how fucking delusional I am, actually. Giving any sort of advice like I’m anywhere close to the ritzy ideal of the amphetamine-areyouami label-american. New York, ideally. West Village, preferably. But I guess the kind of guide I can write is better suited to someone living in a suburb, in a house with the twelve-paned windows. I always thought those were so chic. SO quaint, in a somewhat luxe way. Like, Connecticut vibes. My parents used to drive me up there as a child to buy books and ice cream. Nowadays I’d opt for a matcha latte with novelty ice cubes, but I guess at the time it was pretty sweet.

Because I popped a Vyvanse at like, 10pm, this next little bit could go one of two ways. I will write the most articulate, brilliant piece of literature of my life. Magnum opus, if there was a skinnier word for it. Or, I will get wrapped up doing something like folding all my last-season knits (which is part of my look, okay! I don’t have a job!) and fixating on a paragraph on how a girl’s collarbones are almost as identifying as a fingerprint, or a signature. I’m not a graphologist, but if you write your A’s with the little tail on top (like on a computer), you’re probably a snake. Nothing personal, just an observation. Also, I do have a biology final to study for. Not that I’m super anal, or even particularly committed to academia, but even in my precariously manicured (read that as separate terms; I did a good job on my nail polish, okay? But I happen to also be teetering on the brink of an epiphany or a collapse. Hence the use of the word precarious.) state, I know it’s important enough I can let one of my countless side-quests sit idle for a couple more days.

The first section seems only natural to be about hydration. And the whole idea of drinking things, really. There was a section in The Chic Diet about Adderall dry-mouth, which deeply resonated with me. Once I bit off a chunk of a Nivea Strawberry Shine (my favorite lip balm, more on that later) and swished it around my mouth. Didn’t help. Really, really didn’t. Anyway, I suppose that even if it served no purpose for combatting my prevacatingly ingenious cottonmouth solution, I was able to milk a sentence or two out of the experience. “Do it for the Vine”, all grown up! And wearing bananapapaya resin hoops too. Side note, that Etsy shop is a parasocial enemy of mine. It stems from jealousy, which sucks, but hating from inside a club I’m adjacent to is much healthier than being a hateful individual towards people I would, you know, interact with. Daily. Or something. I stopped going to therapy because I felt stupid about going and I don’t live in the right kind of town to warrant vacuous $300 hours. Bitching about my well-adjusted parents and how desperately I wished my anxiety would just “go away” was plainly gross, and a waste. Like, pretty sure almost every problem I have could be solved by a couple painful conversations taking place during a hurricane. Such a shame it doesn’t rain much here. Anyhow, I digress.

Staying hydrated. It is essential to my character, my persona, if you will; to never be without either an elegant metal bottle (I’m loyal to the smooth enamelled S’well ones, printed to look like marble or a semi holographic solid) or a little 16oz tumbler with a metal straw. Hydroflasks were some of the worst things to happen to society. I want to preface this claim with the fact that I wanted one in the same way a teenage girl wants a new iPhone so she can keep up appearances with her dermatologist-dad friends who still have the XR, by the way. But I ended up spending the money on like, a minidress at Brandy Melville before it fled my city. Or maybe a Fresh Sugar tinted lipbalm. For the better, even though the dress has a busted zipper now and the lipbalm tube has inevitably gotten dinged and dented by the other contents of my mini-totebag. Unlike a car, though, a couple scuffs on your laptop or your luxury lipbalm tube looks kind of cool. Like, you’re not someone who values the pristine, unused quality of an item that was ambiguously intended to be used versus displayed on Instagram. Now, I’m wondering why this paragraph about hydration is so fucking impossible to stay on track for. I literally drink several litres of water a day, and more tea on top of that. And sometimes an almond milk latte if I can budget it in. Not that I’m so anorexic I can’t afford a 45cal latte. They’re just not that important to me. Anyhow. Drinking lukewarm (on the cool side) water is better than ice-cold. Partially because I just get it out of the tap of my ensuite and I can’t be bothered to wait for it to run cold enough every time, and it just seems wasteful. Plus, there is something so.. skinny about drinking water at an “obscure” temperature. Trust me, I want to know why my thought process is like this too. My favorite tea is blueberry tea foraged in a side aisle at my local supermarket. I love a good commercial, high-end steep or fruit infusion as much as the next girl. Maybe more. My pantry is filled with tins labelled with things like “emerald jade organic” and “magic potion”, which is really just currants and butterfly pea flowers. But there is a necessary glamor about drinking dirt-cheap tea on the daily. Seriously, a box of 25 sachets is like, $3. At a higher point with my, um, Adderall problem, I spent like several times that on pills. I didn’t really need to include that, and could have linked the price point to the cost of a drugstore lipbalm, but I wrote it in. And I’m married to it, stubbornly, as all amateur writers should be when they wittle in a somewhat indecorous little joke. This tea is sooo good because it has a strong fruit-reminiscent taste (not as sweet as a fresh blueberry, but who wants that anyway?), it’s zero-calorie, it’s the most GORGEOUS color ever. The latte, the third drink in my little trifecta, is nothing special. But necessary. The trick is to use a milk frother to whip up sugar free syrup with instant coffee and a little bit of hot water in a glass. It’ll make the most luscious foam.. Top it off with almond milk. My dad is a coffee purist, owning both an upstairs keurig AND a downstairs one (among other more analogue methods, but I can’t name-drop, so what’s the point?), so he hates this drink. Now, calling oneself a plebian is so unglamorous and teetering on self-deprecating territory, dangerously close to insecurity. But I can use it here because I am at least posh enough to have a different pair of earrings for every outfit I could possibly come up with, and I only wear Patagonia if I am in a situation where I just have to wear fleece. Like I was saying. It’s such a simple drink, certainly not a delicacy, and… I had a joke about the word plebian but I keep getting up to refill my water and I fear I have forgotten about it.

Next section; the importance of a good tinted balm

In the intro I alluded to how a girl’s collarbones function essentially as an identifier, the way a signature or fingerprint does. This is a lie, or at least an exaggeration. But one’s ultimate tinted lipbalm is actually extremely indicative about who you are, as a person, as a member of society, even…

If you are loyal to Dior Lipglow, I have a couple questions. One; did you shoplift one tube, once, and refill it with cheaper stuff afterwards? I did that. I consider it one of my better-kept secrets, but now you know. Might as well explain the catalyst for my parent’s first separation now, and the horrifying experience that was meeting my dad’s Manhattan sugar baby (?) at the age of thirteen, wearing an overalls dress from, like, Topshop or something else equally embarrassing. .. Kidding. I digress. It’s such a fancy lipbalm, and good too! It smells like thin mints! But I could just never justify cell phone monthly installation payment money on something I will inevitably talk off. I do own three, but two I stole (before I lost the nerve, somewhat unfortunately) and one, a boy(not)friend bought for me. This is not something I feel any remorse about, because his house was easily four thousand square feet and his sisters had a dedicated all-glass room for their shared peloton. Oil money. Ugh!

My personal favorite lip balm, and I have tried a frightening amount, has got to be the Nivea Fruit Shine collection. The frosted one is shit-ugly. Hideous. But the strawberry one is the love of my life. It’s such a pleasant red, looking healthy and rejuvenated and really completes any look. Only downside is it will always, hopefully not always, remind me of Charles. Kissing Charles, specifically. And him asking me what lipbalm it was, because he knew I was somewhat frivolous and definitive and would have a very long answer. But for whatever reason, I simply stated it was from “out of town”. Not really sure why I said that, but it plagues me (minorly) to this day. Of all the things to make up.. .. The peach one is a perfectly demure spring classic shade. Cherry exists too, but the only tube I have ever had the fortune of owning was purchased in Costa Rica and lost somewhere on the way home. Honestly tragic, it was the juiciest shade. Blackberry is perfect too, but I have to layer it with either peach or untinted lipbalm to avoid what I imagine TooPoor would choose if she believed in tinted lipbalm. I don’t mean this hatefully, I think she’s a queen, but super dark, smudgy makeup suits the eyes better in my opinion. Or something. Or something.

Afraid to bore the reader, I have to move on now. Maybe at a later date I will release an addendum on my ultimate lipbalm buying guide. But also, that is so deeply personal (and everyone needs the excuse of “hunting for the perfect staple shade!!”), so it is really not my place to have any authority on something so intimate and subjective. Etcetera.

Moving on; Decorating your room

Here is a section I lifted out of my memoir document. It fits, because as enigmatic as I hope I am, I am also quite unchanging.

I just pushed three hangers and two tiny strappy tops with the tags still on, off my bed. Most nights, all, these days, actually; I spend in my large but cluttered bedroom. I have a little ensuite with a jetted tub I’ve never used because I just never get around to it. There’s a plush grey rug, spanning the expanse of the room (covering an ugly cherry wood that doesn’t match the rest of the house; no clue why. I never asked, and the previous owners were eager to sell so they could finally ditch this town and retire in Montreal for the bagels, or Hawaii for the monk seals. Point is, I’ll never know) with loose beads and loose pills and little shards of glass from plier-crushed beads. I vacuum every day. The whole room tells you exactly the kind of person I am; the clutter I possess, the encapsulation of the projects I start, start, start and the hours I don’t sleep for and the clothes I tried on (these to sell, these to cut up with kitchen scissors; thrifted lululemon and aritzia and heaps of knits and plaid fabric..) I would not say the room is a mess. Lived in, maybe. Chopsticks and mugs and gum wrappers. Single dangle earrings. I just finished the last of my Creme Brulee eos lipbalm; disguised as a relic of 2015, I was gifted it Christmas of ‘20. I think my next waxy conquest will be a tinted Burt’s one I palmed a while back, before I lost the nerve. Peering around the room you will see shopping bags strewn about the mouth of my walk-in closet. Every surface has something shiny or colorful stacked up on it. Cluttered, busy, but intentional. Except for the walls, which are bare. Bare and gray and miles-tall when I lie flat on my back, high out of my mind, willing things to change but knowing I’m responsible for a first step I will always be too scared for. Bare, pristine, no gumtack. Empty, Like they’re waiting. I wait around a lot. It makes sense. That was an awful lot of words about my stupid blank walls when truly it does not bother me that much; I really just don’t get around to it. I have other things on the ground to tend to, like post-email nausea, addressing envelopes, marrying wire and bead. Writing a document I care about because I am determined and I am alive, alive, alive, goddammit.

Excerpt over. The memoir is coming out when I get famous, or something earth shattering happens. Like I become the world’s least remarkable entrepreneur, and I get retweeted by Colorpop. I don’t want to be the next Elizabeth Wurtzel. I read two of her memoirs one restless night, absorbing it to make up for the nutrients I didn’t that day (you can laugh. I think that is pretty clever), heart breaking a little bit. She writes about her struggles so intrinsically, you either get it, or you don’t. Anyway. She had the books and the fame from it, and she wrote more memoirs than I think a single person should. That is admirable. Aspirational, even. But I do not want to be like her. Where was I? Oh. Yes. Decorating/adorning/filling your room. Your room should serve as the kind of place to watch a movie (if you believe in film. I don’t) and put on ridiculous glittery eye makeup, or smoke an ~artistic cigarette~ or stay up all night on the phone, which is different from staying up all night simply on your phone. Chatting with someone you are tepidly in love with is much more exciting. Not chic as the whole affair is so juvenile, but fun regardless. It’s somewhere to keep your worldly possessions, too. I know I have a lot! Also, it is kind of thrilling to hide things in your room in little crevices only you know about. Now, unfortunately, everyone reading this will know too. But, like, I trust you not to really.. do anything about it. I keep my extra juul pods in the sliding box my apple pencil came in. That box is almost more useful than the pencil itself. I’m somewhat morally opposed to the iPad. Whole culture is so embarrassing! I have a tea tin with an ounce of golden teacher shrums in it. This is tossed in my closet among tins filled with other things, like lace trim and buttons. Which makes it actually a pretty terrible hiding spot, I see now… Anyhow. Keeping benign little secrets like that is so fun. You can tell I don’t have siblings. I sort of wish I did, but it is easier to believe there is something aristocratic about being an only child. Not sure if older-sister me would be egalitarian enough to share things. But that’s prophesying, which is kind of a waste of time. I live in the now, in a room positively cluttered with meaningless things that mean the world to me, chewing on my lip because my mouth is just so dry and 5gum is just not an after-8 indulgence. To live truly kitschly, you have to have somewhat hideous decor. Now, do not confuse dissonant, or incoherent, with what I mean by “hideous decor”. The kitsch room has as many surfaces to look at as possible, while also shying away from too many shelving units. Then you risk your room looking like a storage unit or something. When my mom renovated (re: paid someone to do it) our New York house so we could sell it, all our stuff was stacked up in a Cubesmart self storage. It was sort of horrifying, seeing my childhood home reduced to plastic storage tubs piled what felt like thirty feet high. Anyway. It’s just not an inviting way to store things; I imagine it makes your room look like your stuff is all trapped in gelatin. The more fussy, tiny things you have out in the open, the better. Nail polish. Earring trees. Bowls full of rings and lighters and water color pans perched on your windowsill. A rack with the tackiest assortment of knits and bucket hats and baguette bags. And so forth.. Quickly surveying someone’s room is so telling. Bonus points if all your books are spine-in, except for your favorite ones, because you don’t want people to get the wrong idea. (that you read).

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fallingforunrealisticromance · 3 years

Text

Stay with me - tony stark x fem!reader

A/N: I've re entered my marvel phase once again and I'm not mad about it! I'm so desperate to see Black Widow it looks so good! Anyway enjoy this. The details about panic attacks are based on my personal experiences but they can effect different people in different ways.

Warnings: Panic attacks, swearing

***= Time Skip

Word Count: 2680

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Guys I’m going to be fine. I always am. It was a one-time thing, I promise” I sighed as Nat, Steve and Bruce followed me into the kitchen of the avengers compound.

“We just want you to be okay, it didn’t exactly look like you enjoyed the experience.” Nat said sitting opposite me.

“You almost passed out. That happening while your out is the last thing any of us want for you.” Bruce added. I sipped my drink, not wanting to continue this conversation. The team had becoming increasingly cautious around me since I had a really bad panic attack last week. The truth is I’ve been dealing with them since I was a kid, before I’d even met any of the avengers, I just learnt how to hide them. But last week, things got too much, and I lost control. I don’t remember much but evidently everyone found out. They thought this was a new thing to me and were now trying to wrap me up like some sort of fragile object.

“I’ll be fine. I’m going to be with Casey, and I’m literally just going to be sat in an office all day. The hardest thing I will have to do is battle her shitty coffee machine” I joked, trying to get them to drop the subject. My best friend Casey had asked me to come into work with her to sort through a bunch of files that her boss had dumped on her after she broke up with him. I have no clue what she actual does but she was apparently ‘up to her tits’ in paperwork so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to join her. Just then my phone rang.

“Hey Case, I’m just about to leave. Yeah I’ll meet you at the station. Okay cool. Bye” I hung up and grabbed my bag. “Well, this has been fun, but I have a train to catch so I’ll see you all later.” As I turned to leave I felt someone grab my arm, pulling me back.

“You’re not getting the train. Get happy to take you.” Steve said causing me to roll my eyes.

“Steve I’m not a child, I’m capable of getting a train. Plus, it’s not Happy’s job to chauffeur me around, he has tony for that.” I replied.

“Who has me for what?” Tony piped up walking in.

“Nothing, I have to go.” I said before once again turning to leave.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y call happy and tell him to get the car ready.” Tony said not looking up from his phone.

“Right away Mr Stark”

I groaned. “Are you kidding me?”

“Hey for once I agree with capsicle. We don’t need you dying on a train now do we?”

“I hate you.”

“Ouch my heart.”

It was starting to piss me off at how the were treating me. I get that they just wanted to look out for me, but it was just making me feel even more pathetic than I already did. I slumped down onto the sofa irritated. Suddenly I felt a light tap on my shoulder. Looking up I saw Nat leaning again the back of the sofa, looking down at me.

“I know it might feel like we’re being unfair or irrational, but we just want you to be safe. We need you.” I smiled slightly at her words.

“Thanks Nat.” She nodded at me before walking off.

“Miss Y/L/N. Happy is ready for you.”

“Thanks F.R.I.D.A.Y” I grabbed my stuff, yelling a quick goodbye to everyone before making my way downstairs and into the back of the black Mercedes parked outside the compound.

*******************************************************************

“Seriously did you have to dump him 2 weeks before you were due to leave? There’s so much crap here.” I groaned jokingly, sifting through the many papers laid out in front of me.

“It’s not my fault he was boring. I just couldn’t hack it anymore” Casey replied chuckling.

“Why did I agree to this?” I said leaning back in my chair.

“Because you love and care about me.” She said smiling at me

“Hmm that’s debatable.” I joked, causing her to swat my arm with the file she was holding. Thankfully, there was a small knock at the door that saved me from any further attacks.

“Excuse me Casey, boss man needs you in his office. He didn’t sound too happy.”

“Okay thanks, I’ll come now.” She replied. As she left the room she shot me an anxious look to which I responded a very supportive thumbs up. I know, I’m great.

*******************************************************************

I don’t know how long Casey had been gone but I’d suddenly began to feel a trickle of anxiety wash through my bones. I’d felt uneasy as soon as she’d left but I tried to push the feeling away and throw myself back into the paperwork. But every time I looked at the page, my eyes couldn’t focus. All the words were merging together in front of me.

“Please not now.” I mumbled to myself. I could feel my heart hammering a mile a minute against my ribcage as my hands began to shake uncontrollably. My throat felt as if it was collapsing in on itself as I tried my best to get oxygen into my lungs. I wanted to get up, to run outside, but I felt like if I moved I was going to be sick everywhere. So, I stayed there, trapped, with my head in my hands praying for this to be over. After what felt like a lifetime, the feeling began to dissipate – only to be replaced with an overwhelming sense of tiredness. Physically unable to hold myself up any longer, I let my head fall against the desk. I felt so drained, so weak I wasn’t sure how I would get home at this point. Where the hell was Casey?

---AT THE AVENGERS COMPOUND(third person pov)---

“Mr Stark. You told me to alert you when Miss Y/L/N’s heart rate began to climb. It has rapidly increased over the past few minutes and does not appear to be settling” F.R.I.D.A.Y said. Tony rushed over to the screen that was currently displaying Y/N’s heart rate.

“Oh shit.” He said to himself, running his fingers through his hair. A moment later, Steve entered the lab.

“Everything alright stark?” He asked leaning against one of the desks.

“Not at all. Y/N’s having another panic attack right now.” Tony explained, visibly stressed.

“What?” Steve said standing up straight.

“I have to go get her.” Tony said pulling his jacket on. Before Steve could even reply, Tony headed for the door.

---BACK AT THE OFFICE(first person pov)---

I’d been able to prop my head up in my hands once again, but I was barely able to keep my eyes open. All I wanted was to go home. Suddenly I heard the door open.

“Oh my god Y/N. What happened? Are you okay?” Casey said rushing to my side, clearly noticing my dilemma.

“N-no” I stuttered. My voice came out as a sort of broken whisper. I’d never felt more drained. I heard the door open once more.

“Casey?-“

“Not now, I’m busy”

“No seriously-“

“Did you not hear me? Go away john”

“But Tony stark is looking for you.” He spat out. Relief spread throughout me at the mention of his name. Casey jumped up and ran out, soon retuning with Tony.

“Thank god” I breathed. Tony knelt down beside me in an instant.

“Hey you.” He said softly. “Let’s get you home okay?” He smiled at me sympathetically. I nodded and went to reach for my stuff.

“I’ll get that, put your jacket on.”

“Didn’t bring one.” I mumbled.

“Of course, you didn’t” He said sarcastically as he pulled his off and wrapped it around my shoulders. I slipped my arms in and hugged it tight to me, enjoying the heat it was providing.

“Come on then.” I felt Tony slip his arm around my waist as he pulled me to my feet. I wrapped one of my arms around his shoulders as the other fell by my side. “You okay?” He asked.

“Just get me home.” I whispered.

“Why do you think I’m here?” He joked. We made our way down the hall, tony taking the most of my weight.

“Thank you for coming.” I said as we got into the elevator.

“Anytime gorgeous.” He replied with his signature grin.

“How come you are here though? How did you know I needed you?” I asked.

“I have a sixth sense. Like peter, expect I sense panic attacks” he said chuckling.

“Seriously tony. I didn’t even call you.” I pressed. He fidgeted uncomfortably next to me.

“Okay don’t be mad at me. Because if you think about it if I hadn’t done it I wouldn’t have known you were freaking out and you’d probably still be stuck there, and I know that that’s the last thing you would want so technically I-“

“Just spit it out stark”

“I tracked you.”

I starred at him. “You tracked me?” He nodded sheepishly. “Wha- How?” I stuttered.

“You know I gave you that new watch? Well, I may have changed some things” He said avoiding my eyes.

“What things?”

“Well, I just made sure it would be able to give me your location. A-and if your heartrate reached a certain point, F.R.I.D.A.Y would let me know.” He explained. I didn’t say anything. I wasn’t even mad, but I like the fact he thought I was. “Look before you have a go at me I just wanted to keep you safe.” I smiled at his words.

“I know. I’m not mad.”

“Oh, thank god.”

********************************************************************

The journey home was harmless. The fresh air had done me the world of good. Even those I was still worn out; I was feeling a lot more human. When we pulled up to the compound, Tony rushed to my side to open the door and help me stand.

“I’m okay tony you can relax now” I chuckled.

“I just don’t need you passing out on my watch, Steve won’t let me hear the end of it” He joked.

“Nice to know you care about me.” I replied. As soon as we walked in, I saw Steve talking anxiously with Nat and Wanda.

“Y/N thank god.” Nat rushed over to me, pulling me in for a hug.

“I’m alive guys false alarm.” I said light-heartedly, letting her go.

“Do you know why this keeps happening to you all of a sudden?” Wanda asked. Before I could answer she gasped slightly. “Oh…” Shit. I forgot she could read minds. She’d figured it out.

“What is it Wanda?” Steve asked. Wanda starred at me for a moment. I really didn’t know if she was going to tell them so I cut her off before she could.

“Casey was having an affair with her boss.” I blurted out, causing them all to look at me. “That’s why I went in with her today, she broke up with him and to get back at her he’s been giving her a shit ton of paperwork for no reason. While I was there he called her into his office, leaving me alone. I guess I was just so stressed about what they were talking about I worked myself up.” I lied. Wanda nodded in agreement with me, but the look she gave me made me think that this conversation definitely wasn’t over.

“Okay well I’m going to get this one into bed, see you guys later” Tony said coming up behind me, placing his hand on my back. We made our way up to my room where I promptly flopped onto my bed, gladly expecting the comfort it provided.

“Nope come on get up.” Tony said tugging my leg.

“What? I thought we came up here so I could sleep? I’ve had a long day tony.” I groaned.

“Yes but you need to change. I’m not having you sleep in jeans. The thought of it alone is enough to give me nightmares.” He replied, pulling me so I was sitting upright. “You stay there, don’t fall asleep.” He said before quickly dashing out of the room. I sighed, leaning back on my elbows. Tony was my best friend, sure, but that didn’t stop him being a massive pain in the arse. He soon returned, holding what looked like pyjamas.

“Why have you brought those? I have my own clothes you know.” “No shit sherlock. But I know that you like to wear these when your ill so I figured you might want some comfort after what happened today.” He said setting them down beside me. His words caused me to stare at him for a second. The genuine care in his voice was enough to make my stomach flip. The fact that he’d even thought of something like that caused a few tears to come to the surface.

“Stop starring at me, it’s creepy” He said with a chuckle. When he looked over at me, his face dropped. “Y/N? Are you okay? Why are you crying?” He knelt down in front of me, taking my hand in his.

“I just- Thank you. For the clothes. The fact that you noticed that means the world to me.” I said softly, gazing at our hands.

“I always notice” He mumbled. I looked at him fondly, a strange feeling growing inside of me. We settled in a comfortable silence for a moment. For some reason, my view on tony shifted. That one gestured made my entire opinion of him change. I’d always known I cared for him deeply, more so than myself. And I won’t sit here and tell you I’ve been in love with him since I first met him, because that sure as hell isn’t the case. We’d been friends. Nothing more, nothing less. But now, seeing this side of him, maybe there was a possibility for us to be something more. Whatever that was we didn’t need to figure out right now. But I wanted him with me.

“I’ll leave you to get changed.” His voice snapped me from my thoughts as he dropped my hand from his.

“No, wait don’t go.” I said hurriedly going to pull him back.

“I’ll just be on the other side of the door.” He chuckled. I let him go and went about changing. He’d left me one of his old Metallica t shirts. It wasn’t too big for me, but big enough to be comfortable. I paired with a pair of basketball shorts I’d bought him a couple years ago for Christmas. Not that he actually played basketball, I just thought they were cool. I went over to the door and opened it, not expecting tony to fall back onto my feet. I laughed as he scrambled to stand up right.

“You could’ve knocked or something.” He said straightening his shirt.

“I didn’t expect you to be on the floor” I laughed.

“Whatever” He rolled his eyes, sitting at the edge of my bed. Once I’d calmed myself down, I sat down next to him and rested my head on his shoulder. He moved so his arm was round my shoulder, allowing me to move closer.

“I like this.” I said softly.

“Like what?” “

This. Being with you.”

“So do I” He whispered.

I closed my eyes, enjoying the silence.

“No, you’re not falling asleep like this. Lie down” Tony said shrugging me off his shoulder. I didn’t even have the effort to argue as I slid back and pulled the covers over me.

“You’re coming to.” I stated, looking expectantly at him. He rolled his eyes before climbing in beside me. I curled into him, placing my head on his chest as I wrapped my arms around him. I felt him place his arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him. After the shit show I’d been through earlier, this was the exact peace I’d been craving. No matter where things went from here, Tony would always be my rock. And I couldn’t ask for anyone better.

#tony stank #tony stark #iron man #the avengers #natasha romanoff #tony x y/n #steve rogers #wanda maximoff #tony x reader

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beautifulletdownfics · 3 years

Text

Terrible to Meet You - A Harry Styles One Shot - Act 2, Let not the time discern

Harry wants to get out of the house. Alex wants to get home.

Alex meets Harry at at crossroads. Harry meets Alex on a one way street.

A coffee shop OU fic feat. lattes, lamingtons & that Great Unfathomable Feeling.

Story Page Here My Masterlist Here

Read Act 1, If at first we meet Here

Two of Us: 'This universe ain't big enough to keep us apart'

&&&

Harry went back to the cafe the next day. (And, after that, every day for a medium while)

There was something about it. Something about the tiny cafe he must have walked past a hundred times before but never took much notice of. Perhaps it was the way he felt the rest of the day after having been there. Or the fact the coffee was fucking good. But also maybe it was her—kind eyes, a foreign accent and a quick wit. It would take Harry's mind and body marginally longer than his heart to recognise what pulled him there.

Alex was surprised when he returned. Part of her was relieved, too. The other part of her was busy extracting the dagger of guilt that shot through her chest. Seeing Harry reminded her that she forgot to tell her flatmates the juicy The Daily Dose gossip about Harry Styles. And Harry walking up to the window a little before 8 am with a calm but reassuring smile on his face made something in her still, and Alex realised he wasn't gossip at all.

"Hi," he greeted her pleasantly, seemingly thinking nothing of the way his hand was tucked into the top of his running shorts to extract his phone for payment. (Alex's heart did a lusty little backflip) She saw a slither of a toned tummy and the way the elastic of the shorts folded over itself, "I'm back for more," he said.

More coffee, and more of whatever else it was packaged into the takeaway cups with it. Alex and Paul were Harry's first human interaction after returning from LA. And, where 24 hours prior his aching need had been to see literally anybody, it was now just a need to see more of this somebody. A person whose name he didn't know yet and who Harry had absolutely no reason to feel connected to at all. Knitted hearts aren't visible to the human eye, not when it isn't Looking.

He did though. Although the way she was now watching him with a completely blank expression on her face and a far off look in her eyes made Harry's confidence falter. He repeated what he'd already said over in his head looking for where he might've gone wrong. Harry came up blank. Was she completely freaked out by him already?

Paul rescued her from what Alex was sure was turning into a flushed moment for her. Did Harry really not realise what he'd said with his fingers beyond the elastic of his shorts? Paul's head appeared over her shoulder as a frown started to appear on Harry's face, "Careful Harry, she's a grump today."

Nobody blinked an eye at Paul using Harry's name before it was technically given to them.

"I am not," Alex insisted too quickly, too forcefully. Her elbow launched backwards, trying to catch Paul's gut. She really was a grump. But last night's wine was still causing her head to thump and her throat to ache. Tears and a bottle of red worked well in the moment but weren't as comforting the morning after.

Paul's eyebrows rose in Harry's direction, and he waved a hand out in front of him, expertly weaving away from her attack even in the tiny space, "See?"

"Ah," Harry nodded awkwardly and briefly looked at his feet.

"Doesn't like it when I start talking about universe stuff," Paul explained loudly, despite nobody asking for him to. "Very spiritually pragmatic, the Australians."

"Didn't know that," Harry added, expression turning to one of interest. He wasn't involved in this part of the conversation the previous day.

"Long black?" Alex asked because yes she remembered his order, and she had the defence of it having been less than 24 hours since she last made Harry's coffee in case anyone started raising eyebrows for another reason.

"Uh, yeah," Harry fumbled over how quickly the exchange turned to business, "Thank you."

She got to work but felt Harry's eyes on her as her hands ran on autopilot, stepping through the process. The click click of the bean hopper, the churn of the grinder, packing the head … Alex put the machine on to run and internally cursed Paul, who took himself into the back room, mumbling something about them running low on serviettes. A blatant lie.

Now, when she turned back to Harry, she tried to look calm and serene, like him. But she was already covered in coffee grind and couldn't be sure there wasn't a smudge of it across her face. Paul never told her when there was. Harry's heart was waving to hers widely.

"So … You're definitely not in a bad mood then?" Harry had an expression on his face that told Alex he was testing the waters, but the teasing note was there in just the right amount.

"I'm hungover, which is completely different," she provided.

His smile turned into a grimace, "Oh yeah, completely … Nothing worse … Self-inflicted misery."

Alex tried not to let Harry's awkwardness affect her and in doing so fell into an old pastime of hers; filing the silence with mindless chatter, "Exactly. And then if you add in some idiot going on about the universe and it's wonderful, eternal plans for my existence … I could just kill a man, you know?"

Paul, Paul is the man I could kill, she thought.

He didn't know, but Harry nodded obediently anyway, "You need carbs and coffee, not the cosmos."

"Thank you," Alex gave Harry a look that told him she thought it was obvious the two of them were right, "I mean, the downright gall of that man, trying to put the universe on me this year of all years. Absolutely bloody insane."

Harry tried to hide the instant smile that came to his face hearing her accent navigate absolutely bloody insane. "I'm Harry … By the way … Feel like we're at names."

"Alexandra. But it's Alex." She added quickly, ignoring the lovely, melodic chuckle that came from Harry, "Do you really think that this year, with a global pandemic, anyone can claim that the universe is conspiring for their specific good? Like, 'Sorry everyone about the pandemic, this is really about my destiny, so you're all just going to have to hang tight while that all falls into place!' This is a terrible year. The universe isn't setting up shit."

"Well, it's terrible to meet you, Alex," Harry grinned, stealing her word. She really was in a grump, and he loved it. But if there was one thing Harry knew how to do, it was charm and disarm. He had a feeling nothing would look as lovely as Alex with a blush he'd put there.

Alex paused where she was about to put the lid on his coffee. She felt her cheeks heat as the last few moments played over in her head—her ranting, Harry's introduction, threatening to murder a man—and then she took in the way he was watching her. A little pink-cheeked himself, amused but not appalled, a waiting look of anticipation on his face for what might come out of her big mouth next.

"I think I might still be a little drunk," she excused meekly. Despite herself, Alex thought she might have a little crush.

"You're handling it well," Harry provided kindly, taking the coffee from where Alex put it down in front of him. He waved his phone over the payment portal, waiting for the beep before locking the screen and going back to looking at her, "Drinking for any particular reason?"

"Oh," Alex's eyes widened, "I—

—"Sorry, that was intrusive of me."

"No, it's okay," she continued quietly, not seeing the way her softening had Harry frowning in concentration to tune into what she was about to say, "I've been trying to get home—back to Australia—for a while now. Flights keep getting cancelled or, on Saturday, I was bumped from one at Heathrow…. So we're back to square one."

Dread filled Harry instantly. He could see how upset Alex was, the heartache in her voice—the homesickness—and he hated this look on her, the opposite to the one he'd just daydreamed about. If there was one thing Harry knew it was what it was to miss home. There was no cure for it. A dozen ways he could offer to help burst to the tip of his tongue, but he held them back.

"I'm sorry, that's really shit. Have …" he hesitated to ask, "Have they put you on another one?"

She smiled through glassy eyes, "It's complicated, that's not really how flights home are working at the moment … But it's alright! I'm fine. I'll get there eventually. I got the refund for the first one, back in April, last week and Paul's let me come back to work here three times now so … This can't last forever, right?"

Harry didn't have an answer for that, he was in no hurry to return to his house as he took a sip of his coffee, "How long has it been since you were home?"

"I went back for a visit a little over two years ago," Alex flipped a button on the espresso machine in front of her, to distract herself from the subject but also the way Harry was watching her. If only she could see the way the hearts were watching each other. She started rinsing out her coffee mug under the stream of boiling water, "My sister came over for Christmas last year, though."

"I just got back from America," Harry provided without knowing where the urge to comfort this stranger was coming from, "I was only gone a few months, and it was a little hard to get back, it felt dreadful, so I can't imagine what it's like for you. That's a long time to be so far from home, especially now."

While he spoke, Alex started making herself a latte, for something to do in the moment and for something to hold onto if Harry stayed at the window.

"How long have you been in London?" He asked. How long have you been just around the corner? Harry thought.

When she looked over at him, Harry felt like she was seeing through him. There was something about her soft, brown eyes and the way they exuded kindness that had him buoyant with giddiness at the same time as feeling incredibly self-conscious.

"Four years now," Alex told him, "Was supposed to be just a 12-month adventure."

"Your family must miss you then."

She shrugged, "I think they're used to it now. Life moves on without you, which is strange at first. Tough to get used to, that the people who own you suddenly have lives you only know about from catch-ups and Instagram posts."

Harry didn't know how to tell her that he knew exactly what she meant. He'd been struggling with that very notion for years now. Home never left like the same home he remembered, and wherever he found himself living—LA or the road—never quite felt right either.

"I've loved it though," Alex added, "Wouldn't have stayed if I didn't. This year though … I just want to be home, London's… Lost something."

Harry watched her shake herself out of the sad moment, her face brightened, and he barely registered the way Alex said in a genuinely upbeat fashion that she'd just have to wait for her time. He smiled along with the rising of her cheeks and felt like he saw a transition between two feelings that was entirely healthy and okay. She wasn't pretending. Her graciousness and patience with life were astounding, despite the fact he'd equally seen her sadness as being genuine as well. The balance there was enlightening.

"Need to make the most of the bonus time you've been given here then," he tried hesitantly. The hearts nodded at each other, gleefully.

That had been the right thing to say, the smile on Alex's face amplified in agreement, "Exactly.”

3AM 'She's got a little bit of something' &&&

Alex was sitting on an upturned milk crate as Harry rounded the corner.

His step faltered but only because she was looking right at him as if expecting him to arrive. He smiled under his mask and tugged it down while he was still a reasonable distance away. Alex smiling at him, holy hell did that taste—the flavour of her spirit—feel good in Harry's chest. Each day for nearly a month he'd felt the same way every time he saw her.

Alex received a text message from Harry just after 7 am that morning. Unlike the ones he sent every other day telling her he was on his way (an old fashioned tip from his sister, to demonstrate to Alex that Harry was thinking of her) that morning Harry told her he wouldn't see her until the afternoon. All day, she waited. Her heart tapped its foot impatiently in her chest, a nervous ticking that made Alex clumsy and disappointed when every new customer wasn't him.

"Hello," Harry grinned back at her, because that was all he could do, really. In her presence happiness exploded out of him and charged his whole body faster than caffeine ever could. His shoe scuffed the concrete path again as he looked at the closed cafe behind her, "Did I miss something?"

Harry stopped a safe distance from her, not sure how this new level of interaction would go. He'd never seen her whole body all at once, part of her was always obscured by the cafe window. Alex in the flesh—in the whole—was like the first taste of chilli on his tongue, invigorating in a way that stole the breath from his lungs.

"We close at three every day," she stayed seated but pushed another crate towards him with her foot. There were brown smudges of coffee grind all up and down her shins, and he guessed the black jeans she wore to work were strategic.

Harry squinted the sign on the window by the door, he was always occupied by her and didn't need arbitrary activities like reading signs to keep him entertained waiting for his coffee, "Really?"

"You usually come in the morning," Alex said pleasantly, waiting for him to sit down opposite her, "Here."

Harry was overwhelmed, he really was, by the sight of a white takeaway cup in her hand, and he reached for it carefully, "What's this—Alex."

"Can't have you missing your coffee … Made it right before closing, had to put the tiniest drop of milk in there otherwise it would shit itself and taste horrendous," she laughed at his wrinkled nose at the mention of milk, he sniffed the lid just to tease her or to get her to roll her eyes at him blithely. It worked, "It won't kill you, promise."

"Says someone whose intestines know how to handle lactose without making you shit yourself," he borrowed her phrase. Sounded better when Alex said it, with the wideness and the breadth of her accent.

Alex tilted her head back and laughed. Really laughed and Harry didn't have it in him to be embarrassed or scold himself for how he just spoke about his bowels in front of her, because the sound is marvellous and so Alex. It's unapologetic and genuine and a touch off-beat, which he loves.

"Holy shit," she let out a long, shaking breath afterwards, holding a palm to her rib as if in pain. She was pretending not to notice how Harry stared at her while she was laughing as if extremely happy with himself. "You wear white bottoms far too often for that to be a daily worry for you."

"Oh, it's a worry," Harry insisted, mainly to keep the joke going. He felt like his face was about to crack in half, "I can't have people spiking my coffees without my knowledge," Harry took a sip but then pointed his finger at her playfully, "I'm going to have to keep an eye on you."

As if he wasn't already.

"Busy day?" Alex asks, watching Harry take a hearty sip of the coffee she made him.

"Yeah, I um … I had some, ah, work stuff."

"Oh?" Alex crossed one leg over the other and looked at Harry with (mock) interest, "What do you do for work?"

Harry's eyes bulged involuntarily, and his mind went completely blank. Did she actually not know?

Alex only let the horror play on his face for a few seconds, "I'm kidding! I'm kidding. Jesus, Harry, sorry. I was just having a go."

"You're an excellent actress, as it turns out," he swallowed down the moment of panic. It only ever happened once before, years before, that a girl he'd been interested in hadn't known who Harry was beforehand. It hadn't ended up going down well.

Alex asks Harry about the book recommendation she sent him the week before, whether he'd started reading it yet.

Harry held up a finger at her, "I've been meaning to talk to you about that," he said, "But I haven't had lunch … I'd promised myself one of Paul's ham and cheese croissants."

"Well, you're shit out of luck, unfortunately," Alex told him, "He takes the keys with him, I can't break in and make you one. But the cafe on the high street around the corner stays open until five. You could try there?"

Harry felt like he was about to defecate himself, but it wasn't from the lactose, "Will you join me?"

Alex's eyes brightening instantly, but Harry didn't miss the way her cheeks reddened, "Sure. Of course."

"Great!" Harry coughed down his too-enthusiastic response then worried—as everyone did in 2020—that his physical reaction to her saying yes, the cough, would be interpreted as a symptom of something else entirely. He checks the time on his Apple Watch, "Should we go then?"

They walk in step away from The Daily Dose, and away from the previous pattern of their friendship. It strikes them both that this is the first time (both trip over 'first' in their minds as having the possibility to suggest it happening more often but their hearts have known all along, of course) they were out in the world together, the first time they were more than barista and customer.

Harry's hand touched Alex's forearm when they got to the cafe's door as he held it open and encouraged her to go inside. They ordered takeaway, Harry got a croissant (he was still working on the coffee Alex made him) while Alex ordered a tea. They then walked back a little way to where there was a small park with vacant seats Harry noticed on the way past.

"So, the book …" Alex asked him, the lid of her tea is off to let the heat escape. She’d crossed her legs and angled her hips towards him on the bench seat. Harry faced forward, heart hammering as he tried to remember how to use his voice.

Harry struggled to look dignified while biting into his too-hot croissant, the cheese burnt his lip, but he tried to hide it, "Oh, yeah, well, I haven't started it."

"I thought you said you wanted to speak to me about it!" She laughed.

"A ploy," Harry admitted sheepishly, "Was trying to figure out how to ask you to come with me."

In her head, Alex squealed. Her heart held two thumbs up at Harry's.

"How's the coffee," she asked, eyeing the cup in his hand.

Harry grins, knowing his next line is a winner, "Best in London, easily."

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GIve me all your best Alex & Harry theories Act 3, Hearts beat not fail - coming soon!

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