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lavendertales · 1 year

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Sweet lies: Chapter 2

pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

summary: when Frankie shows up unexpectedly at the reunion dinner, things get uncomfortable and awkward for everyone.

word count: 2.5k

SERIES WARNINGS: former friends who were in love with each other, angst, mutual pining, tension, eventual smut, jealousy, infidelity, wrong choices, kind of arranged marriage too I guess.

A/N: I NO LONGER USE A TAGLIST! If you want to be updated on my works, click “Get notifications” on this blog! Comments & reblogs are forever appreciated 💕

gif: @conveniently-available

series masterlist | AO3

The coarse whisper of your name manages to awaken sentiments in you that you long thought of as dead and buried. You’re staring, too, but that you just cannot help.

It’s been an excruciatingly long and hard decade without that face. Time’s been kind to him, much to your dismay. Once a scrawny teenager, now he’s standing before you as a man: stubbled cheeks, moustache, eyes chocolatey and tired from time’s rough passage. He has the same kindness about him, the same warmth, and it only makes your heart ache more.

This would’ve been infinitely easier had he turned out into some kind of ogre.

But of course he hasn’t. Why would the universe make this any easy for you?

He’s just a person, you remind yourself with unsteady breaths. Just a person. An old acquaintance and nothing more. He means nothing more.

“What—what are you doing here?” he gets the courage to ask, visibly shaken by your presence. “How are you here?”

“Same way I left. Got on a plane. And I’m having dinner with the guys.”

You barely recognize your own voice as you flatly reply to him. It’s the voice of a woman who’s been disappointed and hurt far too many times, squashed of any hope.

Frankie hums, piecing everything together. He inches closer to you, and you pull away from him in an instant. Being too close means more heartache, and you refuse to put yourself through it again.

Be polite, nothing else. Keep him out.

“When did you come back?” he asks.

“A couple of weeks ago.”

“How long are you staying?”

“I’m back for good.”

He nods, hating how robotic and distant he sounds. Truth is, he is far too shocked to even smile at you or hug you or tell you how much he missed you. How much he’s thought of you over the years.

It hurts to even acknowledge that.

“What are you doing here?” you retort. “Santi said you were busy tonight.”

“Finished earlier, so I thought I’d join in.”

Heads turn back at the table, eyes widened in shock and panicked whispers exchanged.

“Uh oh,” Benny exclaims. “I thought you said he was busy.”

“He was,” Santiago admits, standing up swiftly and practically racing to you and Frankie. “Hey man, you made it!”

The look Frankie gives his best friend is hollow and accusatory, and Santiago knows why, but guilt isn’t on the list of things he’s worried about right now.

“I was… going to the restroom, excuse me,” you say, and make bigger steps to the ladies’ room.

Now alone, Frankie grabs Santiago’s arm as they approach the table. The grip is tight and firm, exuding nothing but sheer anger and betrayal.

“You knew she was back in town and you didn’t bother to tell me?!” Frankie groans.

“We wanted to tell you about it tonight, but when you said you were busy, we figured we didn’t have to yet,” Santiago says, breaking the touch.

“A warning would’ve been fucking nice.”

“Yeah, well, a call or text from you saying you were on your way would’ve been nice too.”

Frankie huffs, sitting down and rubbing his temples. The waiter returns, asking if he wants anything, and he immediately orders a glass of bourbon.

“We’re glad you could make it,” Mia says with a polite smile.

“I’m sure it won’t be that awkward,” Emily fortifies.

“Of course not, why would it be?”

“How about you sit way over there, buddy?” Will intervenes, gently guiding his friend to the end of the table, opposite of where your seat is. And just in time, too; you return from the bathroom, sneaking a single glance at Frankie, then avoiding him altogether.

You order another glass of wine, though that’s probably not the wisest decision given the effect wine has on you, particularly in the presence of someone you were once undeniably attracted to.

“How come you’re back in town?” Frankie asks, voice a little shallow and grave.

“I got a job here.”

“That sounds great.”

There is no follow up after that, and everyone at the table is feeling the tension running high. The only way to cope with it, since communication seems to come uneasy to both you and Frankie, is to drink. Everyone orders a second one, and soon a third one. By the fourth one, Benny takes it upon himself to lighten the mood, in spite of Will’s repeated insistence that he shouldn’t.

“What about my one year anniversary with Emily, huh?” he chuckles, cheeks flushed with the crimson burn of alcohol and love. “Who would’ve thought?”

“None of us did,” Santiago teases.

“Hey! I always wanted to settle down.”

“Benny, sweetheart, I love you, but even I know you were a huge ladies’ man before you met me.”

“It takes a special kind of woman to tame a lion.”

Will shakes his head, amused by his little brother’s antics.

“Oh, and Will and Mia got their half year anniversary coming up!” Benny continues. “Things are lookin’ bright for the Millers.”

Santiago exchanges a glare with Will, sensing where things are headed, and neither likes it.

“Alright, how about we talk about something more exciting?” Will suggests. “How about we hear more about our friend’s new job, huh?”

Will smiles at you, but Benny’s too tipsy to pick up on social cues in his pursuit to make the gang feel comfortable and happy.

“But we haven’t properly celebrated Frankie’s engagement,” he pouts.

The table goes silent as fearful glares are being exchanged. After a while, everyone’s gaze seems fixated solely on you, anticipating your reaction—except For Frankie. He keeps his head down, like a dog that’s been scolded for a mishap. You are fully aware of the fact that you are on a massive display, completely exposed, but you will not give into the moment and renounce your integrity.

Though it remains undeniable that on the inside, you are simply falling apart.

You expected this; you absolutely anticipated such a situation, even something more complicated. But no matter how much you would’ve prepared for any possible scenario, the reality still kicks you in the gut.

You stare blankly, only now gathering sufficient strength to search for Frankie’s face. When you find it, it’s riddled with guilt and sorrow, facts which you cannot fully comprehend. Why does he get to feel guilty? And for what?

“Oh,” you say at long last, your voice hollow. “You’re—engaged.”

You draw in a sharp breath that eventually gets stuck in your chest, and you make a mental note to yourself to sound pleasantly surprised instead of bitter and devastated.

“Yeah. Her name is Andrea. We’re getting married in June.”

You gulp, forcing a wide smile that’s meant to be polite and cordial at best. “Congratulations,” you whisper with the same happy mask on your face.

“Thank you.”

Frankie downs his drink and risks staring at you, but you’re back to ignoring him. He understands, of course; it would be foolish of him to pretend otherwise, no matter how much it would hurt to face the consequences of his actions.

He wishes he could tell you the truth, why he did what he did, but he knows you are far too stubborn and independent to believe him, especially after all that time. When he decided he was done, years ago, he closed every window and door there was to ensure his connection with you was truly severed. Too much time had passed without any form of contact, and it sent only one message: that Frankie did not care.

If only he would open his mouth now and confess that it was a lie, a ruse to help you and make you happy…

“I probably shouldn’t have dropped the news like that,” Benny whispers to Emily.

“You really shouldn’t have, you big blabber mouth.”

“As I recall, you don’t have a problem with my big mouth.”

Emily slaps him over the shoulder, audibly, and looks around the table. The tension is thick, palpable, and it makes everyone present disarmed in front of it.

“How did you two meet?”

All eyes are on you again, probably because nobody was expecting you, of all those present, to initiate a conversation about Frankie’s fiancé. But there you are, looking right at him, as friendly as you could possibly be. Even Frankie is taken aback, but he clears his throat and eventually speaks up.

“Uh, it was like... eight years ago. We met after one of Benny’s first matches, when we went out to eat. She worked there temporarily as a waitress to get through medical school. I asked for a bag of peanuts, she misunderstood, we had a laugh and became friends, and… here we are.”

Frankie realizes he’s oversharing and that you certainly didn’t want to know every little detail of his encounter with his now-fiancé, but it’s too late to stop it now.

“What about you, what are you doing back here?” he asks instead.

“I, uh—I got a job as an editor at a publication here in Boston.”

“That’s great. You always loved to write.”

Stunned, you look up at him, irritably fond of the fact that he remembers your favorite pastime. But you cannot go soft now, not when you have the man who stole your heart right there at the very table, stealing glances at you with big, soft puppy eyes. He needs to know, to understand, just how hurt you still are, how unyielding you are on the decision to remain simply cordial with him.

“Yes,” you reply cynically.

“Guys, I’m sorry I spoiled the news like that,” Benny says apologetically. “It wasn’t my news to begin with.”

“It’s okay, Ben” you smile.

“Yeah, she would’ve found out eventually.”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“Well, you’re pretty good at keeping people in the dark about your intentions. Maybe I would’ve found out when I saw you driving your kids to college.”

Will clears his throat, as if to put an end to the bickering that’s barely beginning to boil between you and Frankie. But the latter only feels worse looking at you, being in such close proximity to you after all that time. He’s perfectly aware that a mere apology won’t cut it, but he has to try now that you have re-entered their lives.

He has to, doesn’t he? Otherwise he would be exactly what you already think he is: a heartless, cruel man.

“I’m sorry,” he says with a lump in your throat, though enunciating your name in a sweet, careful manner. “If I knew you’d be here tonight,” he adds, side-eyeing the guys in an accusing way, “I wouldn’t have come.”

“Then what?” you demand.

The table goes mute once again, no one daring open their mouths now. The thing is, they all realize just how uncomfortable this situation is for both you and Frankie; they also know that this kind of confrontation is long overdue, except—well. Maybe now isn’t the most opportune moment.

But you feel anger boiling underneath your veins, spreading throughout your entire body like a poison that needs to be released immediately, or else you’d die with it in your system, damaged from inside out.

“You wouldn’t have come tonight if you’d known,” you resume. “Okay. What was your plan after you’d find out? Go on with your life as usual, avoid me like the plague?”

Frankie coos your name again, in an almost begging manner. “I would’ve found out that you’re back sooner or later, so—“

“So what? We’d just never speak to each other again? Like we’re just two random strangers?”

“No—“

You search in your purse for your wallet, taking out a few bills to cover your share of dinner. You take a deep breath in, trying your best to keep your composure and not lose all of your sense right then and there with everyone watching you.

“It was nice seeing you guys tonight,” you say with a forced smile. “I really did have a good time. Think I’ll call it a night.”

“Are you sure?” Mia asks you, genuinely concerned. “We were thinking of going to a bar or a club after.”

“I’m sure. If you want to go, please, do. Have fun.”

“I should go, too,” you hear Frankie say.

The two of you stand up at the same time, locking eyes. Your heart instantly goes in your throat, dreading the idea that you might have to actually confront him outside of the restaurant, one on one. You falter, desperately looking around for some sort of help that fails to come.

“How about I take you home?” Santiago proposes, standing up.

You exhale with immense relief. Gratitude for Santiago was never bigger or more welcome than it is right now.

“Thank you,” you say, and you take one last look at Frankie, noticing how wrecked he seems in that moment.

But you still don’t cave in. You can’t.

“Congratulations on your engagement again,” you tell him, flashing another smile.

It’s a hollow one, and Frankie sees right through it. It might’ve been a while since he’s last seen you, but he is very much still capable of deciphering your every little tell, anything that your body language cleverly conceals from the rest of the world except him.

He doesn’t reply. He remains locked in the same position, standing up, and watches you leave with Santiago. He sees his hand on your waist guiding you gently through the restaurant, and then walking right out. His mind spins with endless possibilities that just about tear him into pieces. He’s never felt so tiny, so cruel and horrible.

“I’m really sorry, man,” Benny mutters at him.

“It’s fine. She would’ve found out sooner or later. This way… the bandaid is ripped off. It hurt, and now—“

It still does. So much more than before.

“—it’s done,” he lies.

He vaguely hears Will’s voice in the background, asking him not to leave, but rather to join them at a bar or something, but he doesn’t fully comprehend or listen. He pays for his drink and rushes straight home. His freshly renovated apartment that’s supposed to be part of the new chapter in his life. His and Andrea’s life, together. But right now, in this frozen moment, it all feels like a lie. A big, fat joke he’s been telling himself to make himself sleep better at night.

He’s always known he hurt you and fucked up everything, yet tonight, seeing the look on your face, nearly falling apart with sadness and anger alike, he knows the damage is irreparable. He knows you’ll never forgive him for the way he hurt you.

He won’t forgive himself, either.

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yoonpobs · 3 years

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bad boy good thing xiii.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 5, 635

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

a/n:

hello friends!!! here is the next update :D i hope you enjoy the read! it's been a v long week for me so it's nice to just unwind hehe. thank you for the support & love you all!!!!

“Are you going to just … stare at me?” Jungkook clears his throat as his eyes dart anywhere but forward. It was less uncomfortable that way.

The two people in front of him don’t flatter him with an immediate response, instead; they stare him down harder until Jungkook can quite literally feel the stare of their eyes burning a hole into his forehead. He nearly shrinks into his seat, but he manages to pull a somewhat neutral expression even if he was on the verge of a meltdown.

“Maybe.” Jimin retorts snappishly.

Jungkook knew Jimin would be the pettier one between the two, but again; it’s not unwarranted. So he sucks it up like a big boy and nods his head slowly in understanding.

However, Taehyung was a different situation. His blank face was already intimidating as it is and Jungkook’s known him ever since the two of them were in middle school. More often than not people mistook him for cold and disinterested, whereas he usually just got lost in his thoughts.

But it’s obvious when Taehyung doesn’t like someone. He doesn’t put up a front to pretend that things are dandy and that he vibes with you. No, Taehyung’s blank face returns and it’s tenfold. But Jungkook knew it wasn’t just that, that resulted in the permanent vacant expression etched onto his expression—it’s paired with the fact that Jungkook’s an idiot and this is his punishment.

Jungkook knows better that Taehyung isn’t the type to take things head-on (like Jimin), but rather allow people to ruminate in their thoughts as he stares you down with a gaze so intense that it feels like he’s unpacking every single stray thought that passes by your mind. Jungkook is aware, but he’s never had to be on the receiving end of it.

“Are we going to, uh, order?” Jungkook asks, hands gripping the menu tightly.

Taehyung still stares, and Jimin narrows his eyes at the younger boy.

“You know ____ hasn’t arrived yet, right?” His tone is accusatory and Jungkook feels himself pale.

“I didn’t mean—okay,” He sighs in defeat, “We’ll wait.”

Jimin eyes him carefully before opting to skim through the menu. Jungkook knows it’s a front to not have to engage with him since they’ve frequented the same diner more than enough times for the waiters and waitresses to know their orders by heart. It’s been a while since they came here, and Jungkook knows that he’s partly to blame.

It sucks, sitting here in silence when he remembers that the three of them, you aside—used to engage in stupid banter and talked about the most random things like college boys do. They were his best friends, Jungkook grew up with them and he distinctly remembers always getting into trouble with the two boys until their parents only sighed every time they saw them returning home with guilty expressions ridden on their faces.

Now the banter is replaced with tense silence, but it doesn’t feel like it’s over. Jungkook hopes, at least.

Before Jungkook can say something else, he feels someone slip into the empty seat next to him.

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late.” Your voice is sweet and cheerful, and it’s nice to hear you like this again.

Jungkook looks up and sees you smiling at everyone, oblivious to the strained mood of the table before you came.

“Don’t apologise,” Taehyung says for the first time, offering you a small smile, “We were waiting for you, weren’t we?”

Jungkook stiffens, fully aware that it was directed to him. He wanted to lamely interject and say that it wasn’t what he meant, but he knew that Jimi would give him more shit for that anyway.

“You didn’t have to!” You exclaim.

Jungkook feels somewhat satisfied at the scowl that plagues Jimin’s expression, but it’s quickly covered with a beaming smile in your direction as he calls over a waiter.

“We know our orders, right?” Jimin asks.

You nod, smiling brightly; clearly excited to be here again.

And Jungkook feels nice, too. It’s nice being here, with the three of you—even if Jimin and Taehyung were still giving him the cold shoulder it was much better than pretending like everything was okay when it clearly wasn’t.

“It’s nice to be back,” You smile to yourself after the four of you order, and Jungkook can only agree.

Maybe it wasn’t so nice, after all.

Because the entire time, Jimin and Taehyung were dead-set on making Jungkook feel the guilt of his actions tenfold when they pick apart at every word he offers into the conversation.

“Have we not been here for that long? Even the interiors changed a little.”

“I don’t know, Jungkook. Who’s fault is that?” Jimin says off-handedly, unbothered to even cast him a glance.

“Wait, really? There’s a forum coming up?”

“Didn’t we all know? _____ is the one who organised it.” Surprisingly, this came from Taehyung.

“I’m stuffed.”

“With bullshit—?”

“THAT’S ENOUGH!”

Your voice is loud enough to silence the entire table and even causes a few other patrons to turn their heads in the direction of your table.

Jimin is blinking at you with wide eyes, as Taehyung only gapes at the decibel of your voice that he’s never heard from you before. Jungkook only presses himself against his seat, and subtly inches away from you.

But you turn your head towards him and shoot him a glare so venomous that he stiffens in position.

“Don’t you dare shift away from me, Jeon.” You warn threateningly.

Jungkook swallows, too stunned to move.

Then, you turn to face the two unblinking men.

“And you two,” You narrow your eyes at them menacingly, “I told you that I’d deal with this on my own so why are you the ones holding grudges?”

Jimin opens his mouth to respond, but Taehyung is nudging him with his elbows to shut up.

“I expected better from you!” You cry, “What are you guys, five? Or is that how many brain cells you have combined?” You scowl. They’re still blinking at you when you continue to fume. “No. I’m pretty sure it’s less than that because at the rate you’re acting I’m beginning to think that this fork better conversational skills than the three of you.” You hold up your utensil for good measure and the boys can only blink at you.

The last part is directed to everyone, and Jungkook can only listen to you rant as he presses himself against his seat.

“I just wanted to hang out like usual.” You flutter your eyes shut in annoyance, “I asked for one day—one day!” You exclaim, “Just to be with you guys because we haven’t done that in forever. And you couldn’t push aside whatever hostility you have towards Jungkook for this?”

You sound so disappointed, and your voice subdues out into a whisper when you glance at the table. Jimin and Taehyung had the decency to look guilty and apologetic when they realise that you were actually serious about it. Because rarely have you ever blown up, if not—ever.

“_____, we’re sorry—” Jimin begins.

“Are you?” You snap irritatedly, “I told you that I didn’t want to make things complicated and here you guys are—doing exactly that. I resolved whatever I had to with Jungkook, and let’s not pretend like he was the only one at fault here. The two of you are opening a closed book and it’s unnecessary. I just wanted to hang out with you guys and laugh about our balding lecturers, is that so much to ask for?”

“I think—” Jungkook begins, feeling slightly more confident to speak up after you’ve somewhat defended him, but the way you snap your head to him to send him a blazing look shut him up immediately.

“And don’t think you’re off the hook either,” You seethe, “Jimin and Taehyung have every right to be mad but they don’t have the right to ruin the atmosphere of our hangout right now. That doesn’t change the fact that you messed up.”

Your words are sharp, and his eyes widen when you scold him. It oddly feels like the three men were being lectured by a parent, and it’s not far off because you’ve always been the level headed one amongst the four of you anyway.

“I’m sorry, ____.” Jimin offers apologetically, but your ears are flushed for obvious reasons before you mutter an excuse to head to the bathroom.

When you storm off, the three men stare at each other unblinking for a few seconds before Taehyung breaks the silence.

“Listen,” He sighs, “Clearly, Jimin and I are pissed.”

Jungkook’s eye twitches, that’s an understatement.

“But, we have a right to be—like she said,” Taehyung continues. Jungkook doesn’t argue there, “But we care about her as much as you do, and we don’t want her to feel any more disappointed than what she had to feel for the past month. So we’ll drop it.”

“Why are you speaking on behalf of the both of you because I’m pretty sure hyung is staring at me like I’ve murdered ten kittens,” Jungkook mumbles under his breath, off-put by Jimin’s unwavering glare.

“He’s not far off.” Jimin retorts, then he sighs, relaxing his features ever so slightly to look at Jungkook with an expression much softer than what he’s received so far. “I’m disappointed in you, and I probably will be for a very long time. But … you’re still my best friend, and even if I feel like knocking you into every available surface I’m willing to push that desire aside if it means we can make ____ happy.”

Jungkook blinks.

“I …” He croaks, “I’m sorry, to the both of you. I messed up and … I really regret it.”

Taehyung offers a small smile, “You don’t have to apologise to us. It’s ___—”

“Yeah, I know.” He clears his throat. “But the two of you are my friends too and you’ve done nothing but guide me even if I acted like it annoyed me most of the times; I really appreciated the things you told me, even if I blatantly went against it.”

Jimin purses his lips, staring hard at the boy.

“I want us to be okay too, as much as I patched things up with her; you guys are my best friends as well,” Jungkook says softly.

“If ____ forgives you then …” Jimin mutters, though Jungkook can tell it comes from a good place. “I guess I can work with that.”

It’s something, Jungkook thinks.

But then you’re still not back and the three men look at each other in worry.

“I’ll go get her,” Jungkook declares, but before he can push himself up—Taehyung is stopping him with a hand and a cock of his head.

“I’ll do it.”

And when he leaves to get you, Jungkook and Jimin are left in a mini stare off, the awkward atmosphere still tense enough. Not until Jimin gestures to his face.

“Your cheek …”

Jungkook sighs.

“You know there are people who need to pee too, right?” Taehyung hums outside the cubicle. He’s sure you’re in there because he spots your sneakers through the slit, and he’s lucky enough he can because he wasn’t sure how else he’d explain him leaning outside a stall while he talks to it.

You stay silent, dabbing at your eyes with the tissue you brought in. You feel a little stupid for crying about it but you hated the atmosphere out there. It was weird and awkward and the four of you never had moments like that. You always had things to talk about or even just to laugh at each other. The silence and glares were suffocating, and you couldn’t help but feel like it was all your fault.

“I’m going to piss on the floor if you don’t open the door.” Taehyung threatens in a bored tone.

You sniff, loud enough for him to hear as you roll your eyes at his ultimatum.

“Don’t think I won’t do it, _____.” He warns, and you hear fabric rustling that has your eyes widening.

“Don’t pee on the damn floor!” You hiss.

“Then open the door.” Taehyung retorts smartly.

You scowl, glancing into the mirror one last time to ensure that your eyes weren’t as red as you hoped they to be. It comes to no avail because your eyes are puffy enough to tell him that you’ve been crying, and you knew that you couldn’t lie your way through it.

“I’m giving you five more seconds,” He calls, “Five … four … three … two—I’m about to piss—!”

You unlock the door and pull it open, and greet Taehyung with a vehement glare of your own as he smiles down at you, but only for a bit until he notices the puffiness of your eyes and the pout of your lips.

“You know it’s kind of depressing if you lock yourself up in the cubicle of a diner to cry.” He says softly, arms reaching out to bring you into an embrace.

You don’t fight him, even if you don’t make an effort to hug him back. You were sulking.

“Well that’s what happens when your best friends are acting like assholes.” You snap back in a sniffle.

He sighs, patting your head gently as he forces your arm around his waist; shooting you a stern glare that you roll your eyes at.

“You know we’re looking out for you.” He chides gently, and you feel very much like a petulant child when you huff at his response.

“I just wanted to hang out with you guys without things being weird.” You mumble against his chest.

“I know.” He hums.

“But you had to make it weird.” You complain. “What are you? A social justice warrior? I told you I could deal with it on my own.”

Taehyung chuckles, squeezing you a little tighter as you scowl into his shirt. You knew you were being a little dramatic but you didn’t want the dynamics of the group to shift just because of the situation you got yourself in with Jungkook. Even if you were in love with him and he was … in love with you. Your friendship with the three of them meant the absolute world to you.

“I’m sorry,” He apologises, pulling away slightly to look at you with sincere eyes.

You look away and sulk.

He sighs, knowing that it would be much harder to get you to feel better than just an apology.

“Look, I’ll lay it off and I’ll make sure Jimin doesn’t overstep either. Promise.” He offers with a smile.

You look at him with tentative eyes as you raise a brow at him.

“Isn’t Jimin with Kook right now?”

Taehyung opens his mouths, then closes, before he wraps an arm around your shoulder to tug you closer into his grasp.

“After this. I make no promises that Jimin hasn’t caused bodily harm on Jungkook in the meantime.” He says.

You snort, picturing Jungkook cowering or at least avoiding Jimin’s eyes now that they were alone. You knew that the bruise on Jungkook’s cheek was Jimin’s doing, and while you already talked his ear off for that, you appreciated the gesture. Even if it did look like it hurt like a bitch.

“I just want things to go back to normal.” You mumble, fiddling with your thumbs.

Taehyung nods his head and sighs.

“It will. We’re okay. You’re okay. We’ll be okay.” He comforts you with a soothing tone.

You nibble on your lips, “I guess …”

Taehyung stops in his tracks as he was about to bring you back out when you mumble those words so softly he nearly misses them.

“You guess …? Is there something—?”

“I just,” You sigh, “Jungkook and I spoke and we … cleared things up. But it’s still … it still sucks.” You finish lamely.

Taehyung gives you a sad smile before turning you around so that he can grab onto your shoulders.

“What he said doesn’t define you. And I know for a fact that he’s beating himself up over it. It sucks because he’s your best friend and he was the one that said those things to you. But none of that is true because you’re the most interesting, smart and best girl I know.” He smiles at you, even when you flush and look away.

“Stop …” You whine, avoiding his gaze and you hear him chuckle.

“Jungkook’s dumb. He’s our friend, but he’s dumb.” Taehyung snickers.

You roll your eyes but a smile teases the corner of your lips.

“It’s not just that …” You mumble softly, pink dusting your cheeks. “I told him that I was in love with him.”

At this, Taehyung quite literally chokes on his breath.

“You—what?!”

You scowl, “God, you don’t have to be so loud.” You thwack his chest and even as he winces he still has a stupefied expression on his face.

“You … love … what?” He blinks, “What the hell did I miss? Does anyone else know? When did this happen?”

You huff, “Look, that isn’t … important. Not now, at least. I told him that I needed time to sort things out myself and … yeah.” You murmur softly.

You know Taehyung wants to press further, but he doesn’t do that because your demeanour says to drop it. He sighs, pulling you into his embrace once more before he gives you an easy smile.

“Take all the time you need, okay?” He reassures you softly, and somehow it does feel a little better.

“Were the extra ten laps really necessary?” Jungkook pants, hands falling onto his knees just as he completes the last God forsaken round.

“I don’t know. Were they?” Namjoon hums, opting to skim over Jungkook’s hunched figure with a shrug.

“You’re holding a grudge on me,” Jungkook says in a tone of disbelief.

Namjoon shoots the younger boy an unimpressed look.

“Am I?” He returns, and Jungkook already feels the incoming headache approaching.

“Look, I get Jimin and Tae because the two would literally die for her … but you?” Jungkook exasperates.

Namjoon sighs, clicking the pen in his grasp before shoving it into his back pockets. By no means was Namjoon unnecessarily intimidating, because besides the fact that he towered over most people and frequented the gym as his second home; he was a decent guy and great company.

That, and he never imposed his authority as the captain of the football team onto any of the footballers, or his peers, which made him all the more approachable and likeable. Jungkook had nothing against him, but after finding out that he too had feelings for you; he’s bound to view the older boy differently.

“Jungkook, I already told you—you’re my friend and I like you.” He deadpans, “But you’re also an idiot so you’ll pay for being one. It’s really that simple.”

Jungkook narrows his eyes, “And this has nothing to do with your feelings for her?”

Namjoon snorts, waving him off as the rest of the footballers come pooling out of the changing rooms.

“I think you’re projecting a little,” He snickers and ignores the look of disbelief that covers Jungkook’s face when the footballers start gathering around the two.

“He made you run an extra lap?” Jimin snickers.

Namjoon hears this and smiles, “Ten.” He corrects.

Taehyung lets out a low whistle before patting his sullen-looking younger friend on the back while he scowls. Jungkook couldn’t say anything because he’s aware enough to know that his mouth was the one thing that got him into most of the trouble he’s ever got himself into. So he swallows his pride and wipes his sweat, even pretends to smile tightly at Jeonghan when he asks why.

The practice is brutal, well; for Jungkook at least.

Jungkook knew that Namjoon was a strict but reasonable person by nature; and to a certain extent, petty. The only reason he knew was because of his feelings for you and that irked him. But he didn’t know how far Namjoon was willing to go just to prove a point, to you or to Jungkook; he wasn’t quite sure.

But Jungkook’s pride gets the better of him when he waves off concerned stares from the rest of his members. Even Jimin looked mildly worried when Jungkook was required to do an extra circuit or two just because his form looked ‘off’.

Jungkook’s form hadn’t looked off since high school.

And that’s how you find him, splayed out on the ground as he pants for air and stares up at the sky as if he was waiting for God to pick him up.

“Why are you on the ground?” He hears you before he sees you.

And when he opens his eyes, it’s like he’s seeing an angel. He’s half-convinced that he’s died and gone to heaven because your confused face is peering down at him from above.

“I think I’m dead.” He wheezes.

You roll your eyes, immediately squatting next to him before you shuffle through your bag to take something out.

Jungkook can’t even be bothered to ask what it was, but only when you press the object against his forehead and he feels the cool touch of a cold bottle; he ironically melts into the feeling.

“Here.” You thrust the bottle to him.

“God I lo—” Jungkook’s out of it, but not that out of it to let it slip.

You seem to notice, and your ears flush at the near slip-up. Jungkook clears his throat before attempting to sit up, head spinning at the suddenness of his actions.

“Thank you,” He rectifies his mistake immediately, offering you a meek smile.

The sheepish smile you return him with is enough. And he misses you even if you’re right in front of him; because things had been off for so long and having you back … even if you weren’t his, felt better than ever.

But Jungkook’s never pined for anyone else besides you, and it’s tiring. Yet, when you smile at him it feels like it’s worth it.

“Are you checking up on the corpse?” A voice interrupts Jungkook’s dazed expression when he stares at you for a second too long.

He turns his head and sees the cause of the numbness in his legs.

Namjoon is all smiles when he jogs over, Jimin and Taehyung following closely behind as they snicker at the interaction.

“You didn’t have to be so mean.” You pout up at the taller man, standing up as you only reach the height of his shoulders. It would’ve been cute to Jungkook if Namjoon didn’t look so taken with you.

“Someone’s gotta take care of things for you,” He jokes, ruffling your hair.

Things have been going better enough for people to poke fun at Jungkook, and even if he flushes at any mention of what happened—he knows that he’s got to deal with the consequences.

He didn’t know that the extra touchiness from Namjoon’s end was one of them.

“Never thought I’d see the day the great Jeon fall.” Jimin snorts.

You raise an eyebrow.

“What?” He shrugs, “He’s always telling us hyungs that he could one-up all of us with his eyes closed.”

Taehyung nods while Namjoon only chuckles at the statement.

“Not saying that you deserve it but you deserve it, man.” Taehyung laments.

Jungkook scowls from where he sits on the grass, but you’re nice as always when you reach a hand out for him to grab.

He stares at it, struck again by your kindness. And when he looks up the evening sunset flares behind you and you looked like a painting in a museum.

“Wow.” Jungkook blurts.

He didn’t mean to, and everyone caught on his stupefied expression.

“All right,” Namjoon rolls his eyes, tugging Jungkook up himself as the younger boy scowls at the moment being ruined. “Up, loverboy.”

You huff, turning on your heels to hide the way your cheeks had turned red when you noticed Jungkook’s gaze lingering longer than it should.

Taehyung and Jimin shoot each other a look, one that goes missing from you and the two other men. In fact, Jungkook shoots Namjoon a glare that he blissfully ignores in spite of trailing behind you, taking advantage of the fact that Jungkook’s legs are too wobbly to catch up.

“What the—?”

“Hurry up, Jeon. Yena’s waiting and you know how she gets when people are late!” Namjoon calls over his shoulder, before offering you a dimpled grin and grabbing your bag to alleviate the strain on your shoulder.

Jungkook knows that things are better and he’s damn grateful he’s able to be around you without watching over his words anymore. But the childish and immature side of him turns green when he sees the shy smile you return Namjoon.

He knows, that you feel the same way. But somehow his mind overthinks it and asks: what if?

“You look constipated,” Taehyung mumbles off-handedly, clasping a hand to his back when Jungkook stays rooted in position.

“Deserved,” Jimin says.

Jungkook scowls, dejectedly following close by as the five of you walk out of the field.

“That was absolutely uncomfortable.” Yena declares the moment she steps foot into your apartment.

You scowl.

“It wasn’t that bad …” You mumble.

Yena flops herself onto your couch and raises an eyebrow as if to say really.

“Listen I know you and Jeon exchanged vows and a dowry the other day but Namjoon is definitely a close contender. I swear I saw him whipping out a pen mid-meal to write you a love poem.”

You groan, flopping face forward as you stuff your scream into your cushion.

“Why me?” You cry.

You can feel Yena rolling her eyes behind you.

“Oh boo-hoo, your life is so hard. Two hot beefy men are in love with you, wow—things must be so difficult. Would you like a free pass in a therapy session?” She mocks pouts at you when you lift your head to glare up at her.

“They are not …” You remember what Jungkook said and you clear your throat, “… Namjoon isn’t …”

Yena scoffs.

“Well he’s definitely breaking ten different traffic laws to get there.” She retorts.

You slump back into your couch as you stare up at the ceiling.

“I thought things would get better.”

Yena shuffles until she’s settled comfortably next to you, “Are things … not?” She asks carefully.

You sigh, fiddling with the edge of your cushion.

“They are, don’t get me wrong.” You say softly, “It’s just that … I know Joon has feelings for me, and I know … I mean Jungkook is Jungkook,” You explain lamely and Yena awaits your continuation patiently. “I’m not stupid. I’m pretty sure they’re both aware of their feelings, and Jimin and Taehyung are just the bystanders witnessing shit hit the fan. And I’m … well, I’m there.”

“You mean you’re the main character.” She interjects.

You scowl, chucking the cushion at her as she dodges with a cackle.

“Things are better but they’re still weird.” You mumble.

Yena sighs, nodding understandingly as she pats your head softly.

“But you said you needed time, right? To figure things out on your own?” She asks.

You nod your head.

“Yeah,” You breathe, “I do. I mean, I know what I feel and I’ve felt this way for a long time. The only person I’ve ever … loved … is Jungkook. But I don’t know if that’s a byproduct of proximity and familiarity or because he was the only person that I’ve ever … you know.” You gesture your hands ambiguously but Yena gets the point.

“I understand.” She nods, “But things won’t be easy, not at first at least. It’s weird, I know. Going from your best friend to a potential lover, a stranger to a man who’s willing to put his star quarterback on the line and two best friends who are well—they’ve always been overbearing but they’re there.” She ends with a roll of her eyes.

Your face crumbles, “Why are things so complicated?” You cry, leaning onto her shoulder as she sighs and rubs a finger over your shoulder.

“You’ve got all the time in the world. You don’t owe anyone anything, remember that okay?” She hums softly.

“Just because you stare at them long enough doesn’t mean you suddenly get telepathic abilities.” Jimin snorts.

It’s been fifteen minutes since Jungkook’s stepped into the library, courtesy of Jimin who wanted to study for an upcoming test with him. It’s a step towards mending their friendship, and Jungkook is immensely grateful; so he didn’t think twice before responding to Jimin that he’d be their stat.

But he remembers that Jimin is cunning, not maliciously, but very impertinently. He was smart and sly all at once, and while he didn’t explicitly state anything—the timing seemed all too perfect for it to be purely a coincidence.

“Not staring,” Jungkook mutters.

Yet, his eyes remain trained on your figure.

Jungkook’s always had issues with envy, ever since he was younger. If someone made the cut before he did, he’d internally curse them out in his head and work ten times as hard out of spite. It’s somewhat toxic, but it allowed him to outdo himself every single time he felt that familiar green eyes emotion. He’s also no stranger to jealousy, and he’s remembered feeling the very same feeling he’s feeling now multiple times throughout his life, all for similar reasons.

You.

It wasn’t just because you were great at everything you did, excelling in your academics and extra-curricular, making students and superiors around you impressed with your work ethic. You were never ordinary; in fact, all you did in your life was outdo yourself in every single aspect and Jungkook always admired and envied that. It always made him feel like you were in two different worlds, where Jungkook had to work twice as hard compared to anyone else to achieve peak efficiency while you seemed to breeze by the things that you did.

Even when the two of you were in high school, he’d always fantasise what it would be like to be with you, to kiss you and to hold your hand or call you his. But he’s never thought you’d ever see him that way because all you’ve ever alluded to was him being nothing but a friend, a younger boy who had the stars in his eyes. If only you knew that it was a reflection of your face.

And the feeling is all too familiar, even when he first came to college and remembered seeing you interact with different guys that all seemed like they were taken with you. How could they not be? You were soft, sweet, kind and understanding—never the type to impose yourself or make others feel uncomfortable. You were a perfect combination of soft and relentless, the mixture of your best qualities and it seemed like Jungkook wasn’t the only person who saw that.

And he knew, he knew that you’d never lie to him, explicitly at least, or about things that mattered. So he doesn’t count your feelings, but it’s frustrating to have you right there but not at all. Especially when he recognises the look on Namjoon’s face intimately when he looks at you, bodies pressed adjacently in a booth in the library.

“You knew, didn’t you?” Jungkook scowls.

Jimin blinks innocently at his friend before a cheeky smile appears on his face, his hands pausing in between the sheets of his textbook.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He feigns innocence.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, further slumping in his chair before he forces himself to tear his wandering eyes away from you.

“What a way to rekindle a friendship …” He mutters dryly.

Jimin stares at Jungkook pointedly, “Hey, the library is open to all students. Don’t go pointing fingers at me.”

“Jimin, I literally suggested we head to an overnight cafe and you said if I wanted to fix us then I had to listen to you,” Jungkook says dryly, “And I quote—or else.”

“Okay, maybe I may have been projecting a little—”

“Jimin …” He groans.

“But look, it’s not the end of the world so don’t go ahead and get your panties in a twist, all right?” Jimin snorts, “Just 'cause she’s over there with Mr Beefy doesn’t mean you’re out of the race. Let’s just say you’re sporting a broken foot.”

Jungkook only responds with a bland look.

“That doesn’t—”

“—and a dislocated knee. Maybe a torn hamstring?” Jimin ponders like the details actually mattered. “Yeah, a pulled hamstring. A torn ACL too for a kick. And you know who’s fault all of that was?”

Jungkook sighs, “Yes, Jimin, I know. It’s me—”

“No. It’s me. Because I’m planning on dragging this out as far as I can even if you and she made amends. You fucked with someone I cared about and this is how I hold you accountable. I’m going to draw out every lone interaction she shares with Joon and make you watch it like the porn you consume in an unhealthy amount. I’ll make it so that all you’ll see when you close your eyes is the way hyung looks at her and how you can’t do anything but watch.”

Jimin says all of that in one go and with an unblinking stare. If Jimin was looking for a reaction, he definitely got one because Jungkook is gawking at him with a disturbed expression at how utterly menacing he looks.

“You’re fucking terrifying,” He exhales.

“And you’re a little shit,” Jimin returns with a huff. His eyes dart behind Jungkook for a second before his smile is expression is replaced with an evil grin, “Oh, look at that. He’s brushing her hair back—how cute.” He coos.

Jungkook groans, sinking into his chair when Jimin snickers.

622 notes · View notes

macnevercries · 3 years

Text

Champagne and Cake

(Dilf! Bakugou x Chubby F! Reader)

Warnings- oral(receiving), penetrative sex, cream pie, breeding kink, slight daddy kink, age gap, plus sized reader, mentions of alcohol

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Men your age usually don’t go for your body type. 20 something’s have always gone for skinnier girls, at least in your experience. But men in there 30s and 40s? They absolutely adored you. All of your soft curves and plush body, perfect in their eyes. You were used to the attention from the older men, it was a confidence booster but you never considered dating any of them. You always pined for your male friends who didn’t return your feelings. Who knew someone out there would change your mind.

Going out to meet online dates scared you, you were afraid of being catfished or harassed but this one was different. You had been talking for almost a month and he seemed so.. genuine. His personality could be prickly but at least he was being real to himself. You cherished honesty and he gave it to you. He was a little older, but you decided to step out of your comfort zone. Despite his age he was insanely handsome, in fact his age added to his looks.

You slip on a little black dress and kitten heels, getting ready for your date. You don’t remember the last time you had been this excited. And on top of that he was taking you to a real restaurant, not just a coffee shop. This man was full of green flags.

You pass by the mirror and check yourself out one last time before going to grab your purse, even you had to admit you looked good. Your phone dings from the couch and you rush over to get it, tripping a little as you go. Picking up your phone you see a message from your date;

-Can I pick you up at your house? There’s a specific detour on the way back from the restaurant I’d like to show you, it’s a place I love-

You read over his message, a little suspicious but you decide it’s okay. You had been talking for such a long time and you have to admit you’re quite interested in what place he would take you to. You type your address with a smiley face sitting down on your couch. After scrolling through your phone for around 10 minutes you get another text from him and you run to the door, adjusting your hair and grabbing your purse.

You lock your door behind you and dash over to the blonde man, grinning wildly. He chuckles at your excitement, embracing you in a hug as a greeting. You don’t expect it but you hug him back, man does he smell good. You inhale into his shoulder, cedar, spice and caramel filling your nose. You can’t help but nuzzle your face into him a little, quickly pulling back when your realize what you’ve done. You apologize quietly, an embarrassed red flushing your cheeks.

His crimson eyes take you in. He couldn’t help but think how cute you were, a blushing mess, round cheeks and plush thighs showing out of the bottom of your dress. You looked good enough to eat.

-You look gorgeous- he smiles, eyes crinkling at the ends.

Somehow your face manages to get redder -Thank you, you look amazing too-

His pictures don’t do him justice. His spiked blonde hair reminds you of his youthful personality, but his smile lines and wisdom-filled eyes give him away. He’s taller than you, a little tan from years in the sun and broadly built. His shoulders extend far and muscles line his arms, perfectly covered by his well-fit suit that doesn’t leave much to the imagination. He’s more gorgeous than any man you’ve been with.

He takes your hand and opens the passenger side door for you, walking around to get in after you. Such a gentleman, no man your age had ever treated you with such respect.

-Where are we going?- you ask as he pulls out of your driveway.

-A restaurant down town, only the best for a darling like you-

-Katsuki don’t mess around, I meant the ‘detour’ you told me about-

-That’s a secret, it would be no fun if I told you-

You huff, slightly annoyed at his response but still giddy with excitement. He drives calmly, it’s obvious he’s been doing it for years. As you pass through the city he reaches his hand out and places it on top of your thigh.

-Is this okay?- he asks, glancing over at you. You nod a little too quickly, the feeling of his gruff hands on your soft skin a little overwhelming in the best way.

-Good, you’re mine- He squeezes your thigh a little rough and your can only nod, his words going straight to your core.

You pull up to the restaurant and once again he gets out, opening your door and helping you out. You link your arm around his as he leads you into the most elegant place you’ve ever seen. He speaks to the hostess with you at his side, words flow from his lips as smooth as silk and it’s obvious he charms not only you.

You get led to a private table in the back, food already waiting for you.

-I hope you don’t mind that I went ahead and ordered for us, I know the best things here and I wanted you to be able to try them all-

You sit down across from him, mouth open in awe at the presentation in front of you. It looked amazing, a variety of expensive looking dishes almost completely covered the table.

-You did all this for me?-

-Anything for you princess, I love to spoil-

You giggle at his nickname, satisfied with how the date was going. You both dig into the food, exchanging small chatter smoothly as you eat. The atmosphere is romantic and serene, you couldn’t ask for anything better.

Waiters come to collect your plates and bring Bakugou a box and a bottle.

-What’s that?- you smirk, wiggling your eyebrows at him

-Part of the surprise sweetheart-

You fake a pout, grabbing his strong arm again as you leave the restaurant. He sets the box and the bottle in the back, resting his hand on your leg once again as he drives. He drives out of the city and towards the hillside, a beautiful forest surrounding you. You gape at the landscape, you hadn’t explored far out past the city very much and it was so enchanting at sunset. He drives up a hill, parking towards the top near a few trees.

-Can you stay here for a few minutes?-

You whine but nod, not wanting him to leave. He grabs the items from the back and opens the trunk, walking out of your view through the forest. He returns soon, a piece of fabric in his hands. He grabs your arm and locks the car, tucking your hair behind your ears.

-Turn around for me-

You don’t question it when he wraps a blindfold around your eyes, careful with the pressure but making sure you can’t see anything.

-Trust me okay? You’ll love this-

-Mhm, I trust you Katsuki-

You don’t see his smirk, but you can almost tell that it’s there. He leads you through the trees, one of his hands on either of your shoulders, a firm grip that reassures you. He stops suddenly, wrapping his arms around you, hugging you from behind. He slips the fabric off of your eyes and you audibly gasp at the view.

A blanket is in front of you, cake and champagne set out on top of them. Beyond the blanket is the most beautiful sunset, the sky pink and red, clouds blending the colors. Hills beyond it lit up by the soft light. It looks like a painting, it’s perfect.

-This is my favorite place and I wanted to bring you here-

His arms don’t leave you, in fact he squeezes you tighter. You feel so good in his arms, so soft, so comfortable.

-Thank you Katsuki, this is amazing-

-You’re amazing, you deserve this princess-

You turn around and link your arms behind his neck, standing on your tip toes to kiss him. You pull away after a few seconds but he grabs the back of your head, pulling you in for another, hungrier kiss. He eases you down onto the blanket, taking his place above you.

His lips are soft, tongue rough as he swipes it against your mouth, pleading for entrance. Your lips part slightly and he shoves his way in, exploring the caverns of your mouth. You give into him, letting him take care of you. Eventually you part, foreheads pressing together as you pant into his mouth. You can feel him poking your thigh and you raise your eyebrows in question.

-What can I say? You make me feel young again-

You laugh and he grins, caressing your face. He could hold you like this forever. He kisses your cheek, lips, jaw, neck and exposed collarbone, making his way down. He never takes his eyes off you as he pulls on the bottom of your dress, waiting for your nod before continuing. He kisses up your thighs, blushing when he comes face to face with your lacey panties.

-For me?-

-Who else?-

He growls, biting your thigh. You gasp and shove your fingers into his blonde locks, tugging slightly. His calloused hands play with the hem of your panties, pulling them down excruciatingly slow. He finally pulls them off, shoving them into his pocket. He flattens his tongue, licking a long stripe up your dripping slit. You shiver, gushing more slick at the feel of his experienced mouth.

-So wet for me princess-

You can feel the grin in his face as he presses kisses against your slit, a large finger toying with your entrance. Before you can even comprehend the pleasure he has two fingers pumping inside of you and his lips wrapped around your clit, teeth grazing it lightly. Your hips grind up into his face and he uses his free hand to hold you down, a bruising grip holding you still.

His fingers scissor inside of you, exploring your velvet walls until he finds the spot that makes your thighs tremble. He curls his fingers against it and nips your clit, unraveling you below him. He eases you down from your orgasm, slowing his movements and pulling out his fingers. His chin glistens in the fading sunlight.

-Open up-

Fuzzy-minded, you obey without thought. His fingers enter your mouth and you wrap your lips around them, sucking diligently. You taste yourself on his skin, the flavor only making you wetter. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, a string of spit connecting them to your lips.

-More, Katsuki, I want more- He chuckles darkly at your plea, a smirk spreading over his face.

-More? I can work with that-

He sits you up, unzipping your dress and tossing it to the side. His practiced hands don’t struggle to unclasp your bra. He does it in seconds, his hands immediately finding purchase on them. You unbutton his dress shirt, fingers tracing his firm muscles. He unbuttons his pants sliding them down quickly and sitting down on the blanket, pulling you on top of him.

He leans into your ear, his voice lower than before

-Ride me-

You don’t have to be told twice, you grab his cock, lining it up with your entrance. He prepped you well so the only burn you feel is pleasurable. You still struggle a little to sink down onto his length, the girth stretching you for all you’re worth. He grabs your hips before you can even move, pounding up into you. You grab his shoulders for support, moans escaping your lips. Your noises make him go quicker, he wants to, needs to hear more. You look amazing above him, the sun down by now but the purple sky illuminates your figure perfectly.

Groans erupt from his chest when you clench around him, spasming and twitching, having come from his cock only.

-Fuck princess you’re doing so good for me, I know you can give me one more-

You shake your head no but that doesn’t stop his hips, he pistons into you, his thumb finding your clit and circling it roughly. You whine loudly, nails leaving crescent marks in his shoulders. The overstimulation is overcome by pleasure as he continues. You can feel yourself nearing the end again, Bakugou’s grunts helping you. He’s doing everything he can not to come, but the blissed out look on your face makes it so hard for him.

-Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up so good, breed that pretty pussy of yours, you’d like that wouldn’t you?-

You slut out a yes, followed by mewls as he gives you the third orgasm of the night. Your entire body is shaking now, and the vice grip you have on his cock brings Katsuki over the edge. He spills his load into you, painting your walls white. You collapse onto his chest, panting and pressing kisses to his jaw.

-Thank you, Daddy-

#bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #bnha #mha #x reader #bakugou smut #bnha smut #bakugou katuski x reader #mha smut

522 notes · View notes

beyondtheclose · 2 years

Text

February 2 - First Date

Written for the @hdcandyheartsfest

T | 1.7k | cw: mentioned illegal creature trade (pixies) | ao3 link | fake relationship, pining, getting together

Looking at the fancy building in front of him, Harry isn’t sure why he agreed to this. He’s sure this is the kind of place to have four different types of forks, fabric serviettes, and the type of wine service where they’ll be asked to taste it before it’s poured. There’s no way he’s not going to make a fool of himself.

He knows why he agreed to this, obviously he knows why. Even if it wasn’t literally his job—which it is, he reminds himself—it wasn’t like he was going to turn down a date with Draco. Even if it is a pretend one, orchestrated so the Auror department could survey the high end couples-only restaurant as part of their investigation on the illegal pixie trade. Maybe he’s weak, but after going on 5 years being secretly in love with Draco while being partners at work, he thinks this brief moment of weakness is acceptable.

He takes a deep breath to steel himself before climbing the steps up to the main door. It’s opened for him by a restaurant greeter. “Welcome to Montérno Bistro, please come inside.” Harry follows the instructions hesitantly. He notices the greeter give him a once over and is thankful for the Auror department providing new dress robes for the occasion. “Do you have a reservation, sir?”

“Er, yes,” Harry replies distractedly, scanning the open concept restaurant for Draco. All the tables are spaced out to give the diners an illusion of privacy and they advertise permanent sound dampening charms around each table. He relaxes when he spots the familiar blond head at a table off to the side and points him out to the employee. “In fact, I’m with him.”

The look Harry’s given makes him sure that he’s being looked down upon for the enthusiastic pointing, but he’s led over to Draco, which is all that really matters.

Draco looks up when Harry and the waiter approach the table and smiles. “Hi darling, you’re looking handsome.”

So we’re starting then. He pushes down the butterflies determined to take over his stomach and slides into the seat opposite Draco. “Thanks, love. You look fantastic as well.” Draco really does, his midnight blue slim cut robes emphasise his figure and the robe’s intricate silver stitching matches his long blonde hair and pale eyes perfectly.

“You still in there, Potter?” Draco’s dry voice pulls him back to the present. Thankfully, in his distraction the waiter has left, allowing Draco to drop the over the top couple act.

“You notice anything off about this place yet?”

“Normally, I’d call you out for the topic change,” Draco says. Harry can’t help but think he just did, but then Draco continues. “But, as a matter of fact, I did.”

Draco pushes the drink menu towards Harry, who is momentarily distracted by the prices of everything listed.

“Potter, look here.” Draco points at a listing on the menu. Pixie dust topping.

“What the fuck. Are you sure…?”

“Positive.”

“Merlin. I guess that makes our job easier.”

Draco snorts just as a waiter comes into earshot. Harry takes vindictive pleasure in the waiter’s judgment being aimed towards Draco this time. Thankfully, Draco’s upbringing shines through enough to order for the both of them. Harry would have no idea where to start.

After the waiter leaves again, Draco turns back to Harry. “I hope you don’t mind, but I ordered vegetarian food. I don’t quite trust this place not to be selling unregulated meats.”

“Good point.” Harry shudders imagining all the things a corrupt restaurant could present as meat that he’d rather not eat. He has no plans to accidentally eat pixies.

They lapse into an awkward silence. Harry glances around the restaurant. It really is a nice place. He momentarily lets himself imagine him and Draco are here on a real date. Draco dressed up for him, their nerves due to a first date and not the case, the softness in Draco’s gaze not faked. In his imagination, he would invite Draco back to his house afterwards and they could share kisses, Draco would let him remove the fancy robes…

“You here with me, Potter?” Draco’s voice breaks in. Harry shakes himself and forces himself back to the present.

“Er, yes.”

“Knut for your thoughts?”

“Just thinking. Y’know, this is the first date I’ve been on in more than a year and it’s fake.”

Draco stared at him contemplatively for a moment. “We can pretend, if you want. For the entire time, not just when waiters are around.”

Harry freezes, unsure if he’s given himself away. But no, Draco looks faintly embarrassed, even though he’s obviously attempting to hide it. Letting himself fall into this illusion will probably do Harry in, but he finds himself agreeing before he can think better of it.

“What now?” Harry asks, desperate to hide how clueless he is on how to act on a date-not a date-date.

“Now, you stop acting like you’ve never had a conversation with me in your life and we enjoy ourselves.” As he speaks, Draco reaches across the table and brushes his thumb over Harry’s hand that’s resting on the table. Any ability of Harry’s to hold a conversation disintegrates, focus solely on that small connection. Carefully, Harry slowly flips his hand over and interlocks their fingers.

Draco looks straight into Harry’s eyes and smiles. Harry shivers.

Draco asks after his plans for the weekend and they end up having a perfectly normal conversation about Teddy. Except for the fact that Draco is slowly rubbing his thumb back and forth along the back of his hand, making goose pimples spread over Harry’s arm.

By the time the food arrives, the lingering traces of awkwardness have disappeared and Harry has almost fooled himself into thinking they really are on a date. Draco pulls his hand back to his side of the table as the plates are placed.

“Can I refill your drinks, gentlemen?” The server asks.

Harry glances at his full glass of water. “We’ll both get a glance of the house white.” Draco answers. “Does that sound okay, Darling?

“You know I know nothing about wine.”

“That I do know,” Draco smirks. “Two glasses, please.”

“Right away, sir.” The waiter leaves and Harry feels himself relax. Only then does he look down at his plate.

He grimaces. “Can you explain to me why fancy restaurants insist on such small servings?”

“Honestly, Potter, do you have no culture? Can’t you see the elegance? The contrast against the plate? The quality of the ingredients?”

“What happened to ‘Darling’?”

Fascinatingly, Draco’s cheeks tinge pink. “Darling is reserved for when you’re not insulting me.”

“Come off it, Draco. You want more than this to eat just as much as I do. You forget I’ve seen you devour whole pizzas before.”

“Yes, well, fine. You may be right.” Draco answers stiffly, but amusement flashes behind his eyes. “I will concede the ingredient quality may be under question, given the nature of why we’re here in the first place.”

Harry, not liking the reminder they are here for work, turns to his dinner. If he ignores the whole pixie smuggling aspect, the food really is good. He still doesn’t agree that so much money should be spent on so little food. Even if it is the Auror department’s money.

Draco is eating as daintily as he used to at Hogwarts, all proper posture, precise movements, and small bites. Harry notices judgemental looks Draco is giving the fork Harry has chosen, but seems to manage to restrain himself from commenting.

“What are your go to first date questions?” Harry asks, grasping for a conversation topic.

Draco takes his time bringing his next bite to his mouth and chewing before he answers. “I don’t know. I also don’t go on dates often enough to have go to questions.”

“Fine. What’s a question you would ask me if this was a real date, that you don’t already know about me?”

“You do realise I know quite a lot about you?” Harry raises his eyebrows at Draco. “Fine, how about, are you sure you want to be on a date with me?”

Harry pauses, not expecting the vulnerability. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Draco waves his fork around. “Oh, take your pick. I was a Death Eater, the public would hate it, half your Weasleys hate that we’re even friends, I’m terrible at intimacy. I can go on.”

“What? Draco, no.” Harry reaches across the table with his free hand and grabs Draco’s. “Anyone would be lucky to go on a date with you. How do you think I could be friends with you for so long if I thought any of that was true? You’re an Auror now, you care so much about everyone we help. Screw the public and my family will come around if you ever accepted any of the dinner invitations and they could learn who you truly are. You’re so thoughtful and caring and–” Harry cuts himself off before he rambles into any more of a confession.

Draco stares at him with wide eyes. “I– Harry–”

“Sorry, that was way more than you asked for.” Harry mentally rewinds what he just said and feels his face turning red. He stares past Draco at the wall behind him to avoid his eyes.

“No, it’s. Harry.” Draco says his name so reverently he has to look back at him. “You have an eyelash, just here.” Draco leans across the table and gently brushes a finger over Harry’s cheek. The blush intensives under Draco’s touch, which makes Harry’s skin feel electrified. He’s not sure what his expression is doing, but he’s sure it’s nothing subtle.

“You like me too,” Draco says in wonder.

“I’m–” Harry stops. “Too?”

“Yes, too.” Draco’s mouth curls into a comforting smile, but his eyes betray fear. “I started suspecting from your reactions to the pet names, but that speech you just made and your gorgeous blush…made it click.”

“Are you actually saying what I think you’re saying?”

“I like you, Harry.”

Harry lets out a breath. “I like you, too.”

At that moment, the server comes back to collect their empty plates.

“Will you be wanting dessert, sirs?”

Draco grins at Harry. “I think we’ll just take the bill. We have somewhere else to be tonight.”

“We do?” Harry asks once the server leaves.

“By all means Potter, stay for an overpriced small serving of something sweet. Personally, I have waited long enough to get my mouth on you.”

Harry is never going to stop blushing. He’s not complaining.

#drarry #drarry fic #harry potter #draco malfoy #harry potter fanfiction #harry x draco #draco x harry #hdcandyheartsfest #i also dont know how this got so long #my writing

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zapsalis-d · 3 years

Text

Piece of You

summary — Everyone wants a piece of you. Even a certain Mandalorian who denies that he's grown enamored with every little thing about you.

content — Implied smut, harassment, jealousy, alcohol, pining

word count — 4.5k

inspiration — Piece of You, Shawn Mendes

main masterlist

He's not one who's fond of Tatooine.

Everything about that filthy, crime-ridden dust-ball is enough to entirely repel him from the planet. Yet there's something — someone — who lures him into Tatooine, even when his presence isn't necessary. He repeatedly scolds himself each time he passes by the familiar dusty planet — there is no point in landing, no purpose to be there. He never listens. Not at all.

The Mandalorian is constantly preoccupied with his devotion to bounty hunting. But each time, it's as if he entirely clears anything on his plate. A pending bounty puck? He can handle that later. Quarry needs to be delivered? Not a problem, he has a carbon-freezing chamber installed in the ship. Damaged ship? Well, there are plenty of repairmen on Tatooine.

His sole desire is to visit nobody other than you. The bartender working in one of the most famous cantinas in Mos Eisley. The cantina's owner recognized precisely what he was doing when he hired you. You... you are exceptionally captivating, stunning, seductive. Your snarky personality, flawless body, and heavenly face is enough to entice every man in the parsec who'd heard of you. In fact, one of the main reasons the cantina is so damn popular is due to your employment.

Everybody wants a piece of you...

So as Din positions the Razor Crest onto the landing bay's flooring, he prepares himself to be utterly disappointed. With the plethora of men drooling over you each second of your life, you certainly have plenty to choose from. Out of all of them, you aren’t going to select a Mandalorian who refuses to reveal his face to absolutely anyone. Yet he pushes the thought aside. The purpose of his return is due to his recent hunt. The quarry was pestering, exceedingly difficult to locate and seize. Once Din managed to capture and deliver him, he immediately knew he required a brief break. A chance to unwind, ease up, relax. The sight of you is enough to de-stress him.

Maybe you'd even swiftly speak with him for a moment. Each time he arrives at the cantina, you eventually stop by besides him, hold a quick conversation before promptly returning to your work. Din has no clue why. Plenty of other men practically beg for your attention. Yet you don't spare a mere glance towards their direction, unless deemed necessary.

Din descends the ladder towards the hull of the ship, commanding the ramp to lower utilizing his beskar vambrace. Without hesitation, he strides off the ramp, sealing it shut directly after he steps off. He shares a hasty glimpse around the hangar. The manager is nowhere to be found. It doesn’t matter — his ship isn't damaged, there is no need to discuss payment with them. Without further delay, he exits the hangar and treads through the desolate streets of Mos Eisley. It's unbearably hot, even with the twin suns setting down on the horizon. Colorful hues of red, yellow, purple, and blue lace the sky as he proceeds through the countless buildings and homes.

The well-known cantina appears in the distance. A flutter develops in the pit of his stomach at the bare thought of seeing you once more, especially after the additionally burdensome hunt he endured. He hasn't the slightest idea of what he'll do, or even say, when he enters. He's able to converse with you perfectly fine, as long as you initiate the chatting. The thought of walking up to you and establishing the conversation first is... unnerving. Hell, he can hardly flirt for the sake of his own life. You're not interested in the Mandalorian. You can't be. So, why should he even attempt to speak with you when you will simply push him aside, reject him? No, he prefers to keep his distance. Observe from afar. If your desire is to talk, he'll talk with pleasure. Call him a coward, but he isn't going to take his chances.

The Mandalorian saunters through the wide-open doors, gloved hand instinctively shifting towards the holster strapped to his hip. Even through the helmet covering his face, he catches a repulsing whiff of the strong alcoholic scent. His visor scans the cantina for a brief moment. It's surprisingly empty. Tables consist of a few people chattering mutely among each other, a couple waiters grabbing their orders. The ambience is strangely hushed. The bar is completely unoccupied, much to his surprise. A service droid is present where you ordinarily are, wiping a damp cloth over the counter. You, though, are nowhere to be found.

Eyes carefully survey him as he idly stands in front of the entrance. A Mandalorian equipped with a full attire of beskar armor, a pulse rifle strapped firmly against his back, and armed with various weapons is bound to snatch everyone's attention. Not wanting to deal with any issues as the moment, he continues to step forward. Despite his intense detestation for droids, this one in particular can prove useful. The droid raises its mechanical head, unreadable eyes staring straight towards the Mandalorian as he leans forward, elbows propping against the bar.

"The girl is absent today," its blank voice states, head tilting down as it resumes its cleaning. "Her shift has ended earlier today, per her request."

He's left speechless for a split second. Damn droid has practically read his mind. Does he actually make it so evident? Perhaps its simply that its already encountered countless men asking for you already. Nevertheless, a heat creeps onto his cheeks, radiating through his entire face and neck upon the droid's accusation. Steadily, he shifts his weight before answering. "What makes you think I'm here for her?"

His voice comprises a certain hostility, primarily due to the fact that he's conversing with — of all things — a droid. Its gaze lifts upon hearing his response, metal hand halting its insistent rubbing. "A great deal of men have requested her presence here today. I apologize. Would you care for a drink?"

"No," he swiftly replies. Then, he freezes, shoulders tensing up. If he's not here for you, then what's his purpose here? The droid bluntly stares, expecting further elaboration. Din provides him with nothing other than a view of his backside when he spins around, cape swishing with every motion as he strides away. He's on the verge of step outside when the mechanical voice calls for him.

"The girl will return tomorrow afternoon."

Din peers over the pauldron adorning his shoulder, sharing a brief glimpse with the droid. He should thank it, but decides against it. Its just a droid. It doesn't deserve his gratitude, nor an apology for his bitterness. Without lingering any further, he directs his gaze forward once more, before begrudgingly stalking off towards the course leading to the Razor Crest.

A darkness envelops him as soon as he steps into the plain open air. The suns had descended quite rapidly, a starless night sky hanging over the city. It's substantially cooler now that the suns aren't blazing down on him, a brisk breeze sweeping his cape sideways. The streets are increasingly barren now, not a single being in sight.

Except for one isolated person.

He recognizes the figure — the exquisite curves of her body, impeccable hair enhancing her features, the way she stands with utter confidence and assertiveness. All he manages to perceive was her back, but it's unquestionably the person he's been searching for. You.

You reside directly in front of a residence, gaze impatiently darting around as if awaiting someone's arrival. Din had assured himself he wouldn't initiate a conversation with you, though currently it seems as if that is his only option. Either that, or he disappointedly heads back towards his ship. But what the hell is he supposed to say? A simple "hey" wouldn't captivate your attentiveness. You'll simply shove him aside, completely uninterested as you've done an unmeasurable amount of times. He takes a step forward — tentatively, slowly, steadily. He's nervous. He can't deny that. Speaking to you seems to frighten him immensely, not even the most intimidating of quarries has managed to inflict this feelings upon him.

It's not that he's enamored by you. He does not have the time for romance. It's straightforward attraction. Infatuation. A meaningless crush, as some would claim. He is aroused by you. That's all it is, and all it will ever be. At least, that's what he's been attempting to convince himself about for the past months.

His thoughts are interrupted when someone enters the scenario. A man. Your face brightens upon catching sight of him as you beam at him. That damn smile. The way your lips curl upwards, flashing those set of pearly whites — it enthralled him since day one. His attention switches to the unfamiliar man as you throw your arms around him, his own hands embracing you and pulling you near. Seconds later, the two of you head inside the house you stand by. He's joking about something Din is unable to pick out, causing a burst of laughter to escape your lips. The sound is interfere with when the door slams closed behind you. Then, there's complete silence.

Boyfriend. That's his final conclusion. You'd requested time off your job to see your lover. It makes absolute sense. With the incalculable quantity of men constantly chasing you around, you're bound to find someone who interests you. Without another alternative to his situation, Din settled to leave. He's discouraged, yes, but what else would he expect? It's absolutely fine, though. This provides him with yet another reason why he should maintain his distance from the planet. Unless proven necessary, he won't return to Tatooine. There is no purpose for him here. His fantasies need to cease, stop raiding his brain and controlling his every action. He cannot spare anymore time indulging in this. It's for the best.

___

He arrives once more at the damn cantina the following afternoon.

He doesn't understand why he can't liberate himself from this addiction, why his thoughts are persistently flooded by images of you, and you only.

Baby, I'm so into you, it hurts...

Despite the setback yesterday, he feels like he's under obligation to drop by and see you before he departs from Tatooine. It's plain and simple — this is his final opportunity to visit you, and he'll seize onto that freedom while he's capable of doing so. Even if it means he's wasting valuable time while he could be earning his well-deserved credits. Even if the hangar's manager warned that the landing bay is available exclusively for one entire rotation. It's one straightforward, uncomplicated visit, and then he'll leave satisfied.

The ambience is noisier then the previous occasion. This time, when he pauses to examine his surroundings, nobody pays him even the slightest bit of recognition. Boisterous laughter and obnoxious jabbering, alcoholic scent overwhelming his senses again, and then there's you. Preoccupied with your work, you don't spare him a single glance when he enters. Your attention is thoroughly concentrated on serving the numerous people awaiting their drinks at the bar. There are no accessible seats where you're present — it's utterly packed. It's alright, though, because he's not planning on grabbing a drink anyway. He settles for an available booth in the corner of the cantina, solitarily taking a seat away from the detestable, clamorous commotion. He has no clue how you deal with them until the late hours of the night.

Din merely dismisses the waiter who instantly greets him. He's not here for drinks, or a meal. He's only present for you, but not in the way these men are here for. Their sole purpose is attempting (and downright failing) to sneak into your pants, somehow. While he would be uttery lying to everyone — including himself — if he claims that's not one of his many desires, its not why he's here. He completely respects you. He will never treat you like everyone else does. That's not what you deserve at all, yet these men can't seem to comprehend that. They're selfish, purely caring for their own needs and wants. Not Din. He promised himself he wouldn't be as thoughtless and uncaring as them.

He manages a brief glance towards your direction. You're dressed in your usual attire — close-fitting shirt displaying a great deal of your breasts, skintight skirt barely reaching above your knees, a knife strapped strictly against your thigh to ward off anybody who might be in too close proximity.

You're majestic, mesmerizing, light the room up without trying...

Whether you're enforced to clothe yourself like that or you knowingly chose to do so, he isn't exactly certain. But with the way your face contorts in exasperation, you're definitely not enjoying this. You never did. To remain in an occupation like this, wearing that, required a plethora of fearlessness and aggressiveness. And your wages? They must be damn high. Din admires you for that. He wishes he could do something about it, ward off every single one of those pestering men who displease you but he recognizes your capability. You have demonstrated countless times in the past that you can handle yourself exceedingly well.

His gaze lingers for one second too long. Your eyes connect with his black visor. He freezes. He's been caught staring. For once, he isn't sure what his succeeding actions should be. The beskar helm covering his own face is greatly appreciated in this very moment, because his cheeks are undoubtedly tinted in a thousand shades of pink and red. He wants to avert his gaping, but he discovers its impossible for him. His eyes are practically glued to yours, and for once you notice a certain eagerness in your expression. As if you're actually... contented to spot him between the crowd of men surrounding you.

Right. Like that'll ever happen.

He can't dwell on that — give himself that false hope. Out of everyone in the cantina, you're pleased to see him? That's not exactly feasible.

Your heedfulness is abruptly snatched when a customer purposely drops an object — Din can't pick out what, exactly. His intentions were evident. He's trying to obtain a better view of your rear end, yet you don't give a damn. Din can't quite hear what you're divulging with all the cacophonous noise, though your facial expression provides him with enough. A menacing glare is directed straight towards the man, your mouth spitting out offenses and insults. You've clearly had enough with their crap. There's nothing more Din longs for than to withdraw you from that burdensome situation, lead you to the quietness and tranquility of the Razor Crest. The audacity these men have creates a rage welling up within his chest, blood in his veins boiling. The fact that he can't take action leaves him feeling helpless. You evidently don't want his assistance. You can deal with them yourself — it's what you want.

The Mandalorian finds himself remaining in the cantina for hours. The place gradually empties, though not entirely. There's considerably less racket now. You seem to slowly relax, the tension in your shoulders fading away. Din rarely attempts to peek towards your direction again — not after what previously occurred. He's still rather humiliated about it. His finger lightly drums against the table, a faint tapping sound solely audible to his ears. He's not quite certain why he's residing here for a prolonged amount of time if you're undeniably occupied with your job. Yet—

"Drink?"

The familiar voice steals his attention, a glass filled to the brim with an unknown alcoholic drink slides directly into the hand placed over the table. He catches it and clasps onto it tautly with his fingers, visor lifting upwards precisely when a woman occupies her seat on the booth across from him. You.

Admittedly, he's staggered by your unexpected appearance. While you've spoken with him before, he didn't expect that to occur today, especially with the exceptionally packed cantina. He's utterly speechless, any sort of coherent sentence completely disappearing from his mind. His mouth opens, then shuts repeatedly when he fails to voice an individual word. His throat feels inexplicably dry all of a sudden, his immediate reaction being to take a swig from the glass in his grasp but he's unable to with the helmet preventing it. In this moment, he'd do anything to rid himself of this impenetrable apprehensiveness, anything to ease himself. He can't bring himself go verbalize a single phrase, not even a mere 'thank you.'

"I noticed you didn't order anything for yourself," you state when he doesn’t answer. His flustered condition worsens upon realizing this whole time, you had observed him from the distance as well. Your eyes swiftly dart around the cantina for a split moment, before returning to peer directly into his visor. Then, your gaze averts once more. "Go ahead. There's nobody looking."

For a second, he can't comprehend your suggestion. Until he realizes you're proposing he takes a quick drink from the glass. He glances down towards the object in his hand, practically overflowing with a bright purple-colored liquid. Its iciness bleeds through the leather of his glove. It's been a while since he's enjoyed a nice drink. He can't refuse. Without further contemplation, his free hand raises towards the lip of his helmet, gradually tilting the beskar backwards until his chin and mouth were revealed. He's a bit skittish, unknowing whether you'll abruptly turn your head to face him while he's vulnerable like this. Which is why he speedily chugs it down.

Bad idea. The liquid instantaneously burns his throat, clearing the dryness and replacing it with prickling heat. He drops the helmet down to conceal the exposed half of his face, half-empty glass placed onto the table as he nearly fails to contain himself from throwing a coughing fit. His abrupt discomfort caused your gaze to snap towards him again. At least now he manages to speak. "That's—" he pauses, the strain in his voice leading him to clear his throat. "That's very... strong."

You beam at him, chuckling emanating from you. He can't help but gawk at you, your perfect smile, contagious laughter, alluring features. Occasionally, he wonders how it would feel to kiss those soft, red-tinted lips, caress the curve of your jawline with his thumb, rake his fingers through your silky strands of hair. Those fantasies need to be completely erased from his mind, because they're never going to occur. His longing thought are quickly interrupted when you speak up. "Has a nice taste though, right?"

Din shrugs his shoulders. His breath is still unbearably hot from the drink. Perhaps he should've tested it out before hastily swallowing a substantial quantity of the liquid. "It's an... interesting flavor." He merely watches when you grab the glass, gulping down the remains of the drink without cringing upon the powerful aftertaste. "How much?"

Your gaze meet with him once more. The heavy black eyeliner bordering your eyes only enhance those captivating hues even more, feeling as if they pierce directly through the impenetrable beskar helm obscuring his face. "Payment? Credits aren't necessary today, Mandalorian. I believe tonight has brought me enough to sustain myself with. But there is one thing I'm interested in—" you pause before leaning forward, elbows propping against the table. It provides Din with a superior perspective of your chest, though he couldn't bring himself to glance down. He will not dare disrespect you in such ways. You have his total, undivided attentiveness now, ears ready to listen in for whatever you have to offer. "—your name."

His name. The Mandalorian normally wouldn't provide random people with the knowledge of his name. The thing is — you're not a simple 'random person.'

"Din. Din Djarin."

"Din... Djarin," you repeat, the phrase exquisitely rolling off your tongue. "Well, Din Djarin, I've gotta say... you're an intriguing man."

"How so?" a certain curiosity tinges his tone, audible even through the vocodor distorting his voice.

With a nonchalant shrug, you continue. "You're not here for the same reasons these men are. I mean, you're here for me, I know that. But when you visit, you do so in a considerate manner. Not as intrusive and harassing as most are." Your lips curve upwards in a small grin, head tilting with a certain gratefulness dominating your expression. "I like that."

The final sentence causes his breath to hitch in his throat. "You do?"

You bob your head in affirmation. A split second of somewhat comfortable silence passes, your gazes persisting trained solely on each other. Then, "I saw you last night, outside my house."

Damn. "I was on my way back to my ship. Managed to stumble across you."

Your brows raise with inquisitiveness. "You saw me? Why didn't you at least wave?"

"I was... in a rush."

"Understandable," you answer with a curt nod. You release a puff of breath before your eyes flash with visible seductiveness, causing Din to anticipate your next words. "Your armor's worn-out. Even more damaged than the last time I saw you. Rough hunt?"

His helmet tips down towards the beskar cuirass plating his chest. Countless dents and scratches ruin the brownish-red paint of the indestructible metal. Its covered in grime and dust, as is the rest of his armor, plenty more damaged than the previous occasion Din decided to land on Tatooine. The sudden realization that he should've at least scrubbed the soot off before venturing out here hits him, a slight embarrassment overwhelming him. "Yeah... armor's seen better days."

"Well, my shift's over. Droid's taken control now," you gesture with your head towards the service droid serving multiple people at the bar. A confident smirk makes its appearance across your expression before your hand slides towards his own, still placed over the table. Despite the leather preventing genuine contact, your touch is welcome and pleasant. "Maybe I can pass by your ship — the Razor Crest, is it? I could help out, polish your armor, perhaps?"

The offer is nearly irrefutable. Yet there's one minor setback that creeps into his mind.

"I-I don't think your... boyfriend will appreciate that."

Confusion etches your features as you slip your fingers away. "Boyfriend? I— oh, no. That guy yesterday? My cousin. Took time off last night so I could see him. He just landed here to quickly visit me before returning to his work earlier today."

Realization strikes him straight in the gut. His mouth opens to spit out an apology, before swiftly shutting it when a string of curses escapes your mouth, head ducking down upon spotting something, or someone. "What?"

You peer over Din's shoulders before dipping down again, hand on your forehead to obscure your face. "I may have promised someone a date," your voice is hushed even despite the noise resounding through the cantina. "I originally wasn't going accept. But he's so damn persistent. So, I told him to come here after I finished my shift, that way I'd be gone and I wouldn't have to deal with him. But he's here now, earlier than I expected."

The Mandalorian's helmet whirls around towards the wide-open entrance. A Zabrak lingers by the doors, eyes examining the cantina in a careful manner, searching for none other than you, before he steps towards the usual bar. Din turns to face you again, thumb discreetly pointing towards the beige-colored Zabrak male. "Him?"

You nod, further unease notable in your body language. Without uttering a single word, you abruptly lift yourself from your seat, heading directly towards the exit.

Not even a goodbye.

Should've taken the damn offer. Would that have been so hard?

"Oh, look! She's right over there by the doors."

A mechanical voice alerts the Zabrak of your presence, before he whips around and calls your name upon spotting your form. Kriffin' droid. You freeze precisely before managing to step one foot outside the building. Your shoulders visibly tense, though you stand firmly, back facing the Zabrak as he stalks towards you. His sizable hand clutches onto your arm, forcing you around. An unfamiliar, strange feeling sneaks into Din's mind upon watching his harsh manners, dominating his every action and movements.

I get jealous, but who wouldn't when you look like you do?

"Forget my—"

The Zabrak's deep voice is interrupted when you yank your arm away from his grasp, pacing forward in a menacing demeanor. "As a matter of fact, I didn't forget," you cross your arms over your chest, eyes practically boring holes into that horned head of his. "I don't need to go on a damn date with you if I don't want it. And right now—"you tilt your head, a poised smirk appearing on your red lips. "—I simply don't want to." With that, you spin around without offering another word.

You're so sure it makes me insecure...

The Zabrak can't seem to take a hint before he begins to swiftly pursue you. Din is unable to perceive anything else when the both of you exit the cantina. He can't wait anymore, sit around and watch. Sure, you can deal with the situation perfectly fine, as you'd done countless times in the past. But for once, Din urges himself to help. An impulse to protect you. His hand shifts towards his holster by pure instinct as he saunters through the exit, only for him to freeze in his spot. You're menacingly holding a sharp blade against the Zabrak's exposed neck, before he abruptly staggers backwards, holding his hands up in a surrendering manner.

You chuckle, before your eyes land on the Mandalorian lingering around, a certain glimmer present in your eyes. "Besides—" you're directing your words towards the Zabrak while stepping towards Din. "I've other plans tonight."

Your gentle hands grip onto Din's bicep, lightly tugging him forward and beckoning him to follow. Your touch causes an unfamiliar heat to erupt throughout his entire body, predominating his emotions. It's not due to the humidity of the planet, no... it's just... it's you. You're causing all this and he can't control himself no matter how much effort he put into it.

Just one touch is so electric...

He goes along with your suggestion, no hesitation whatsoever as you step away from the grumbling Zabrak. He recognizes he shouldn't mess with a Mandalorian, especially if the urge to protect the person he's constantly thinking about is present.

When he tips his head down to glance towards your direction, your lips are curled upwards into a smirk. Not the one you held while attempting to rid of the irritating Zabrak. There is a certain mischief written all over your features.

"Your ship?"

Oh, what the hell.

How could he resist a piece of you?

#let me tell you something #he may be completely clueless when it comes to flirting #and all that kind of stuff #but din djarin knows how to treat a woman #the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #star wars #din djarin imagines #star wars x reader #din djarin x reader imagines #brown eyes #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader

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angellesword · 3 years

Text

MAGIC SHOP | JJK (06)

Description: You and Jungkook were best friends who were in love with each other. What would happen when Soojin, your half sister who you’re trying to impress, told you she’s in love with Jungkook too?

Alternatively:

“Would you believe me if I said that I was scared of everything too?”

Genre: childhood best friends to lovers, family drama, angst, fluff, idiots to lovers, pining, slice of life au.

Pairing: Architect!Jungkook x Architect!Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: mention of sexist behavior, (old men being trash) forced marriage.

SERIES: CHAPTER 5 | CHAPTER 7

Jungkook never imagined that he would be spending his Monday with a bunch of men he didn't like.

"I'm sorry for dragging you into this..." Taemin smiled apologetically at Jungkook, but he didn't seem apologetic at all. It was as though your father planned all of this to happen.

Taemin didn't even ask Jungkook if he wanted to be a part of this. The head architect was actually surprised when right after he dropped you off to work this morning, he was escorted by Taemin's bodyguards to the parking lot, saying that your father needed to talk to him.

"No worries, as long as I'm still getting paid today. My hourly rate is not a joke, you know..."

Taemin laughed. This time his smile didn't seem fake, like he truly appreciated Jungkook's assurance.

"I can double your pay today. It's Monday after all."

Jungkook nodded because he was pleased. The double pay was just a bonus. The fact that he got to spend the day away from the construction site was already a breath of relief.

Mondays were the busiest time of the week for Jungkook. This was why he didn't understand why Taemin and some shareholders of Castle decided to play golf today.

They just mingled at the party last Saturday. Wasn't it enough? What more did they need to talk about?

"Architect Jeon! Come play with us!" When one of the shareholders called Jungkook's attention, he realized that the party was indeed not enough time to talk about business.

This was an extension of that party. Jungkook just wasn't sure why he was suddenly included. Was it because he got to talk to Mr. Wang last week? The latter was a prospective investor after all.

Maybe these men wanted to know what Jungkook thought about Mr. Wang. Admittedly, he was the only one who got to talk to the older man. Mr. Wang was hard to read. They were surprised that he spared the head architect some time.

Perhaps this wasn't about Mr. Wang at all. Maybe Taemin and the shareholders just wanted to know Jungkook's secret and charm.

"Be right there," Jungkook nodded at them before turning to look at Taemin.

"Let's join them?"

Your father nodded as well, standing up and grabbing his golf club.

Jungkook enjoyed golf. He was a decent player. He was told that this game somehow revealed the personality of a businessperson. He usually met with different clients so he figured that it's best if he could at least get an idea how people in this industry acted.

This was Jungkook's first time to play golf with Taemin and the shareholders though. He normally played this with his business clients.

"Congratulations again for closing that deal with Mrs. Lee, Architect Jeon..." Shareholder Kang said while scanning the course map.

"Ah," Jungkook momentarily stopped setting up his swing upon hearing that. He stood up straight, scratching the back of his head while smiling awkwardly at the older man.

"Thanks, but it won't be possible without Architect Soojin. It's her team's idea after all..."

Mr. Kang snickered, causing Jungkook to raise his brow.

"Why? Did I say something funny?"

"Not really." Mr. Yoo was the one who answered Jungkook's question. "But we feel like you are the sole reason why Mrs. Lee accepted the proposal."

The other shareholders hummed in agreement, smiling. Jungkook did not find this amusing though. In fact, Mr. Yoo's take only caused your best friend to raise his brow even higher.

"I don't understand. It is not my idea. I'm barely assisting Architect Kim and her team."

Jungkook's tone was edgy. He wanted these men to realize that their belief was bull. However they continued to justify that they were right and he was wrong.

"You're too humble for your own good, head architect." Mr. Song teased, knees slightly bended as he leaned forward at his hips.

"Ms. Kim Soojin's idea is..." He paused to look for the best way to describe the project.

"Unrealistic, unconvincing, shallow." Mr. Lim supplied.

Mr. Han laughed mockingly.

"In short, her idea is lame."

"Exactly. It's better to file for bankruptcy if all the architects in Castle are like that." Mr. Yoo playfully swung the gold club, waiting for his turn.

Shareholder Song was taking so long in hitting the ball.

"I mean, come on!" Mr. Kang groaned. "A luxury spa? Who wants that when there are saunas everywhere? Hell, I'm a millionaire but I'll choose a public bathhouse. It's cheaper."

Mr. Han shrugged off.

"Me too. I'm just glad you're part of the project, Architect Jeon. You can fix Ms. Kim's lapses."

Mr. Lim agreed.

"It's also a good thing that Mrs. Lee is stupid enough to agree with the proposal. Ah, women..." He shook his head. "They have big ass and tits but they lack this!"

The men cackled when Mr. Lim pointed at his brain, implying that women had small brains.

Jungkook was starting to think that the double pay wasn't worth it if it meant he had to spend time with these imbeciles. Would it even be enough to cover the medical expenses he would incur if he beat the shit out of them?

"That true! Have you seen Ms. Kim's ass? Taemin!" Mr. Song turned to look at Soojin's father.

"I just have to say this, man. Your daughter is so sexy, especially when she's wearing those tight skirts. Damn!" Mr. Song continued, twisting his shoulder to bring the club all the way up. "Tell her I'm willing to buy all skirts for her—"

Jungkook couldn't take it anymore.

"Shut your mouth." He barked at Mr. Song, but his eyes were focused on Taemin, wondering why he was quiet when his own daughter was being treated like shit.

Jungkook thought that his threat was taken seriously by them. They actually stopped laughing, some of them even cleared their throat like they regretted opening their mouth in the first place.

Mr. Song didn't say anything for a while either. He just swung his golf club, finally hitting the ball.

It went straight to the hole.

The men cheered, but Mr. Song wasn't smiling, just glaring daggers at Jungkook. The latter didn't feel intimidated at all.

If Soojin's father wouldn't do right by her, then Jungkook would. He couldn't just stand here and let this sexist piece of shit blabber.

"What?" Jungkook squared his jaw, inhaling. Mr. Song was standing too close to him, almost hitting his chest.

Mr. Song's jaw clenched. Jungkook readied himself to throw a punch, but he was surprised when the older man chuckled loudly.

"Good, good, little Jeon!" He patted Jungkook's shoulders, the smile on his lips was still apparent.

"You know how to defend your woman, huh?"

Jungkook parted his mouth to speak. He wanted to tell Mr. Song that Soojin wasn't his woman. She was her own person. He also wanted to say that he would defend any woman who was being harassed by someone like him.

He wasn't able to do it though. Mr. Song cut him off.

"See, this is the attitude of a true king." He patted Jungkook's shoulder again before turning to Soojin's father.

"Am I right, Taemin? Architect Jeon is fit to be the next chairman of Castle..."

"Yes." Taemin smiled tightly. The other men approved, saying that Jungkook had their votes when it was time to elect for the next chairman. Kim Taemin wasn't getting any younger. Sooner or later, he had to give up his position.

"Architect Jeon will surely be my successor."

"Sir." Jungkook said pointedly, flickering his irises at Taemin. What the fuck was he talking about? He was not the successor. It was Soojin.

"Oh, look at the time!" Taemin beamed, glancing at his Rolex and purposely ignoring his adopted son. "It's getting late, isn't it? Shall we have lunch together?"

"Ah, right." Mr. Lee caressed his stomach. "Diabetic men are not allowed to skip meals."

Lunch with Taemin and the shareholders was torture. Jungkook didn't know how many times he had to stop himself from punching these men.

Seriously. He couldn't count how many times they talked shit about women and people who weren't as wealthy as them.

They also complained about literally everything. Mr. Yoo smacked the head of one of the waiters for getting his order wrong.

"I said I want a well done steak! Not this garbage!" Mr. Yoo stabbed the medium well steak with a fork, causing the poor waiter to flinch.

"Ah. We should've eaten at home! You dogs should try my wife's steak. Hell, she's really perfect in my kitchen."

Jungkook wanted to say something, but Taemin subtly shook his head, silently telling the younger that it's not worth it.

But it is. Jungkook was dying to say. Keeping quiet implied that he was okay with this even when he was not.

"Let it go. We'll talk about it later." Taemin assured Jungkook when the latter looked like he was on the verge of walking away.

This was the longest hours of his life. He couldn't stand up, couldn't take a break from listening to them. These men took their time, just mocking people while drinking coffee and blowing cigarette smoke.

Jungkook stole a glance at his wrist watch. It was already 4:42pm. Shit. He was supposed to pick you up at five o'clock. Guess he should just rain check on that dinner date he promised you tonight, huh?

He was about to send you a text message when he realized that he left his phone inside his car, his car that was in the parking lot of Castle. Damn it.

Jungkook wished he could just head home and kiss you, however it wasn't going to happen anytime soon.

"Where are we going?" He asked Taemin who took a left turn, direction away from the office.

The shareholders called it a day, saying they had to head home and sleep.

"You'll see," Taemin didn't reveal much, causing Jungkook to get more annoyed.

"No. Tell me." He was having none of it. Jungkook was exhausted. He didn't understand why Taemin had to drive and send his bodyguards home.

The older man didn't like talking when he was driving, saying he had to 'focus," because safety was their first priority.

Jungkook was pretty sure this was only an excuse. Perhaps Taemin didn't know how to explain his behavior when he was with the shareholders. He probably knew that he sucked for not defending Soojin and for lying about Jungkook being his successor.

"I'll tell you when we get there."

For the nth time, Jungkook wasn't able to do anything. He gave up. There was no point in arguing with Taemin because he would only be met with silence or dismissal.

Fortunately Jungkook and Taemin arrived at their destination before the former lost his patience.

The drive wasn't long, distance-wise, but the traffic jam in Seoul was getting worse.

"We're here." Taemin announced, stopping the car right in front of the columbarium where the urn of Jungkook's father was stored.

Jungkook's creased his forehead

"Why are we here?"

"I miss him." Taemin simply shrugged, getting out of the car and heading straight to the building.

Jungkook followed him. He visited his father as often as he could. He was sure the flowers he brought not more than a week ago hadn't wilted yet. Still, he felt bad that he came here today empty handed.

Taemin brought a flower though. It was a piece of orange geiger that he probably plucked at the golf course.

The flora was already crushed because Taemin kept it in the pocket of his slacks. It didn't stop him from putting it right beside Jong-in's urn.

"He hates the color orange." Jungkook reminded, snorting as he stared at the polaroid film placed against the urn.

It was a picture of him and Jong-in when he won first place in Taekwondo. He was only ten years old that time. You were the one who took the photograph, supporting him all the way.

"He hates cowards too." Jungkook added.

"I know, me too..." Taemin was also staring at the photograph. "That's why I hate myself."

Jungkook balled his hand into a fist.

"Then why be one?" He almost snarled at your father. "Why did you let those men say those...stupid things to Soojin? Why let them get away with it?"

Jungkook was fuming. The frustration he felt was too much that he couldn't hide it anymore. Tears brimmed his eyes.

It pained him to hear them talk about Soojin like that. He didn't love her in a romantic way, but she was his family. He treated Soojin like his little sister.

"Your father..." Taemin spoke after a short while. He still couldn't face Jungkook.

"Your father loved Castle. He poured his time and energy in the company. I am aware that you know this too. You sometimes joked about it, right? You asked him if he loved Castle more than he loved you..." Taemin smiled.

Jungkook couldn't help it. He giggled as well. Yeah. Those were the good old days. Jungkook could never forget the face his father would make whenever he asked that question.

"When he was still alive, he would always say that he wants me to take good care of you and the company if ever something happens to him."

Jungkook's smile immediately turned into a scowl. It had been many years since his father passed away, yet this was still a sore topic for him.

"That's what I'm doing right now, Jungkook-ah. Those filthy men are the lifeblood of our company. We have to be careful around them."

Jungkook shook his head.

"Does that mean we have to keep silent even if what they're doing is wrong?"

"Yes." Taemin didn't even bat an eyelash. Those men had big shares in the company, they were part of the board of directors too.

"Business is a game. You can't win if you don't have resources. Better build an army rather than collecting enemies."

"What's the point of building an army if they can't respect you?" Jungkook scoffed.

"People will only respect you if you don't go against them. You will never be respected if you don't have power." Taemin retorted. "So stay in power, Architect Jeon. That's when you'll be able to really control people."

Jungkook attempted to ponder about what Taemin told him. The older man was his mentor for years. Admittedly, he had learned a lot from Taemin. What happened today was probably the only lesson he didn't like and understand.

"Can you drop me off at the office, uncle? I left my car there..." Jungkook blurted out, heart beating fast upon realizing that he hadn't called you all day.

It was already 6:22pm. Did you wait for him? Did you call him? Were you mad? God. You're probably pissed at him.

"I'll ask my secretary to take care of it. We need to go home. Family dinner. Everyone's waiting for us."

"Everyone?" Jungkook hiccupped. Did it mean that you would be there too?

"Yes. My children and my wife. All of us."

Jungkook simply nodded, choosing to conserve his energy because he knew he still needed to apologize to you. Maybe this would also be the perfect opportunity to finally tell Soojin what he felt for her.

They arrived at the mansion at exactly seven pm. The house was usually quiet, but tonight was different.

Everyone seemed to be in a hurry, causing Jungkook to think if he had missed something. Was today someone's birthday?

"Are we celebrating something?" This was what Jungkook said the moment he took a step inside the dining area.

There was a feast.

Taemin was right. Every member of the family was present. Jungkook's eyes shifted to you, like it was natural for him to find you whenever, wherever.

You were not looking at him though. Your eyes were trained on your empty plate.

"Are you kidding me, Jungkook? It's your engagement—" Taehyung who was seated on your right, tried to speak, however he was cut off by Sin-ae.

"You two are right on time! Come! Sit!" Sin-ae grinned nervously, helping to remove her husband's coat.

Soojin tried to do the same with Jungkook.

"I got it..." Jungkook stopped Soojin from latching on his arm, his eyes were still focused on you.

He wanted to ask if you were alright. You seemed down and you hadn't spared him a single glance.

"Sit beside me, JK," Soojin still managed to hold onto his biceps, pulling him to sit right across from you.

"What are we celebrating again?" Jungkook was talking to Taehyung but his gaze was still on you.

Your youngest brother turned to Jungkook, a playful smirk was plastered on his lips. He looked amused.

"Why don't you ask my lovely sister Soojin?" Taehyung was munching a piece of pickled radish. "Or my mom? I'm sure they'll be happy to tell you since it looks like you don't have any idea what's happening..."

"Let's just enjoy our food first, shall we, huh, Kim Taehyung?" Sin-ae gritted her teeth, giving her youngest son a pointed look.

Jungkook shrugged. He wasn't that interested anyway. He only went here because you were here. He wanted to apologize to you.

It was clear to him now that you were pissed. You liked shrimps, but hated peeling them so he did it for you. Using his chopsticks, he picked up the two shrimps and transferred it to your plate.

Instead of thanking him or smiling at him, you just pushed the seafood to the corner of your plate, like you didn't want to eat them.

"You're awfully sweet to her, aren't you, JK?" Namjoon who was sitting on your left, voiced out, noticing how Jungkook treated you.

Your flinched, heart skipping a beat.

"You just gave her shrimps." Namjoon said again when Jungkook just creased his forehead.

"Ah. She likes shrimps." He shrugged, failing to notice that the act was a big deal. He had done this many times already. Jungkook always peeled shrimps for you ever since you two were kids.

"Careful there. Soojin might get jealous."

"Why would you get jealous?" Jungkook asked your sister directly. "We're not dating."

Seokjin and Taehyung choked. Namjoon dropped his fork. Sin-ae was flustered while both Soojin and his father sighed: the former in exasperation while the latter did it in exhaustion.

You remained silent despite the fact that everyone seemed surprised because of what Jungkook said.

"What?" The head architect raised a brow, confused. "You're all acting weird."

Except you, but Jungkook already knew you were damn good at hiding your emotions.

No one was aware that you were shocked and confused too. Why was Jungkook acting like he had no idea what was happening?

Could it be because....it's the truth? Was he really clueless?

Your assumption was confirmed when Taemin awkwardly cleared his throat, shifting his attention to your best friend.

"Remember when I told you earlier that you're going to be my successor?"

Jungkook raised his head slightly.

"Well...it's the truth. You're going to be the chairman of Castle after marrying my daughter—" Taemin gulped. "—Soojin."

"No." Jungkook stated, so fast he didn't even blink.

"Jungkook—"

"I said no." Jungkook's voice was full of authority, his eyes were dark, jaw and fist clenching.

"But we have already announced it publicly." Sin-ae mumbled. She didn't realize that Jungkook would react this way. He was always so kind, sweet, and level headed.

He was different tonight. Truthfully, he looked terrifying as he glowered at Taemin.

"I get it now," Jungkook cackled, wetting his lower lip. "Meeting with the shareholders and bringing me to the columbarium? These were all part of your plan."

Huh. He was so stupid to fall for your father's trap. Taemin didn't give two shits about his 'promise' to Jong-in. He was only doing all of this for his own interest.

"You need me to marry Soojin because it's what the shareholders want, right?"

Taemin didn't deny Jungkook's accusation.

"They will withdraw their shares in the company if Soojin becomes the chairperson. They want a man to be in power, Jeon."

"Then let them go. It's their loss."

"You know very well that it's not. Our empire will fall without them."

"Then let the empire fall." Jungkook threw the napkin on his plate. He was done. He lost his appetite. "I don't care. I'm not marrying Soojin."

He said it with finality that Soojin couldn't help but gasp.

"Yah, Jeon Jungkook!" Her fist landed on top of the table. "Does the idea of marrying me so bad that you're willing to let our company fall, huh?"

"Yes." Jungkook didn't hesitate. "It's bad because I don't love you like that, Soojin. I can't love you the way you want me to."

"Nobody said you two need to love each other." Seokjin took part in the conversation. He only said this because he and his wife didn't marry for love. It was for business too.

"Then why get married? I don't believe in marriage for convenience. I will only do it for love." Jungkook switched his gaze at you the moment he said the word 'love'

He was surprised to see you already staring at him. You looked away when he caught you though.

"So sappy, JK." Taehyung teased. "Why? Do you love someone else?"

"I do." Jungkook was very honest and it was starting to annoy you. You wondered if he ever processed his thoughts first. It looked like he just kept saying things that entered his mind.

"Who is she?" Soojin demanded. She wanted to scream.

Jungkook looked like he was about to say something without thinking again, but before he could do that, you interfered.

"Oh no!" Your eyes dilated, elbowing the glass of champagne and letting the sticky drink stained your dress.

"Oh, for God's sake!" Sin-ae rolled her eyes, snapping at you. "You're so clumsy! You're ruining our night!"

"Eomma..." Taehyung warned. He was about to grab a napkin so he could hand it to you, but Jungkook was already on his feet, going near you.

"Are you okay?" He leaned closer to you, dabbing the napkin onto your dress.

You took advantage of his close proximity.

"Don't say anything about us. Please." You whispered and then you slightly pushed him away.

"I'm okay. Thanks, Jungkook." You stood up quickly, almost stumbling in doing so. Fortunately your best friend managed to grab your wrist.

"Careful..." He said softly, hands grabbing your waist.

You pushed him away again, trembling.

"I-I'll just change." You didn't wait for their approval.

You just left with your heart still beating fast.

#jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #ficswithluv #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #armywriterssupport #jungkook x yn #jungkook x oc #bts fic #jungkook best friends to lovers #best friend jungkook

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freddiefiction · 3 years

Note

I am back with a little request hehehe!

70's Jimercury but Jim is a friend of the band's and both Freddie and Jim are pining SO hard and Roger, Brian and John are so sick of it and they scheme to get them to confess :)

Totally up to you if you want to write this one!

Warning for outdated, homophobic language

‘I swear to God, if Freddie doesn’t grow some balls and make a move, I’m going to take this drumstick and shove it up his arse.’

‘That’s kinky, Roger.’ Brian said dryly, swallowing down a mouthful of beer as he watched their frontman chatter away nervously to his Irish muse, fiddling with his hair and batting his long eyelashes like a girl. ‘Just leave them alone, Freddie wouldn’t want us meddling.’

‘I’m not sitting here and watching them dance around each other all fucking night!’ Roger growled, tightening his hand around his glass. ‘We’ve known Jim how long? Five years now? Fred fancied the pants off him the moment they met in that club, but he won’t fucking do anything about it.’

‘It’s not that easy, Roge.’ John murmured, usually the type to stay out of these conversations. ‘It’s not as if the world is very kind towards queers.’

Roger sighed, pushing his drink away. ‘I know, I know. I didn’t mean it like…I just hate seeing them so miserable. Freddie’s gotten himself involved with so many assholes when the perfect guy has been right under his nose this whole time. And I know Jim feels the same way, but he’s convinced himself that Freddie's out of his league. We need to do something!’

Brian had to admit that Roger had a point. Freddie seemed to have a very bad habit of attracting aggressive, toxic men - Paul Prenter, Bill Reid and Winnie Kirchberger, to name a few. David Minns had been alright, but their relationship had been far from the tranquillity Freddie was seeking in his life. Jim really was the whole package; handsome, kind, level-headed, patient and an animal lover. Not to mention he looked strikingly similar to Freddie’s celebrity crush, Burt Reynolds.

He glanced over at Freddie again, noting the look of longing that crossed the Persian's face as Jim turned his back to order more drinks from the bar. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could sit back and watch his friend suffer like this.

‘I never thought I’d say this, Roger, but you’re right. We need to do something.’

Freddie gave a heavy sigh as he leaned against the window of the taxi, wondering why he had agreed to meet the boys for dinner when he really wasn’t in the mood. His mind was somewhere else entirely, and the last thing he could be bothered to do was sit through a three-course meal.

His feelings for Jim had been growing more intense these past few months. He’d had a crush on the Irishman the moment he first set eyes on him – and why wouldn’t he? Jim was exactly his type in both looks and personality – but recently, Jim had been the only thing occupying his brain and it was driving him crazy. He couldn’t eat, could barely sleep, and being in Jim’s presence was becoming more depressing than pleasurable. Especially when he knew that Jim would never see him as anything more than a friend; granted, Jim had never actually said this out loud, but Freddie was pretty good at reading people. Surely if Jim liked him, like the others insisted he did, he would have made a move by now?

The taxi pulled up outside the restaurant and Freddie glumly paid the driver, keeping his head down as he walked through the main doors and mumbled his name to the host, hoping the boys had booked a table in the darkest corner of the room where no one could see them.

A waiter led him to a booth and he felt all the blood drain from his face when he saw Jim already sitting there, studying the menu thoughtfully. The others were nowhere to be seen.

‘Freddie?’ Jim looked surprised as the smaller man took a seat, shrugging off his fur coat. ‘What are you doing here? The boys told me you were ill.’

‘Funny, they said the exact same thing about you.’ Freddie replied. ‘It appears we’ve been hoodwinked, darling.’

He thought Jim might be angry, but the Irishman just shook his head and chuckled, the big teddy bear he was. ‘I should have seen it coming really. They’ve been trying to get us together since we met.’

Freddie felt his eyes begin to sting, wondering if he could make a quick exit before he embarrassed himself any further. ‘I’m sorry for wasting your time like this, Jim. I promise I’ll give them an earful when I get back to the flat.’

He went to grab his coat, but Jim reached across the table and took his hand. ‘Don’t go. I know this isn’t exactly how you planned your evening, but…it’s kind of nice, it just being the two of us for once. I feel like I never really get a moment alone with you.’

Colour swamped into Freddie’s cheeks. His instincts were screaming at him to run for it, but he couldn’t quite get his legs to move. He smiled softly and sat back down, breath hitching in his throat when he realised their hands were still intertwined.

Jim noticed too and immediately let go, face turning pink. ‘Sorry.’

‘No apologies necessary, dear.’ Freddie picked up a menu and began flicking through it. ‘We can spend the whole night coming up with all the various ways I can murder those bastards when I get my hands on them.’

The laugh they shared finally broke the ice for good.

On the other side of the restaurant, a figure dressed in all black slowly lowered the newspaper that had been concealing his face and peered over at the couple sitting in the corner. At this point in the evening, Freddie had ordered a bottle of wine and appeared to be in much higher spirits, chattering away to Jim, who was listening to him with both amusement and complete adoration.

The man in black lifted a walkie-talkie to his mouth and muttered, ‘Beach Blond to Poodle Head, come in Poodle Head, over.’

Two tables away, Brian sighed and pressed the push-to-talk button on his handset. ‘I’m not digging this codename, Roge.’

‘Codenames are important, Poodle Head. Otherwise, we might blow our cover. And you need to say “over” when you’re finished talking, over.’

‘Roger, this is fucking ridiculous. I’m getting the bill and going home, over.’

‘We can’t go yet.’ John insisted as he picked out the goats’ cheese from Brian’s salad. ‘For this mission to be a success, Freddie needs to take Jim back to his place, or vice versa. Besides, we ordered from the set menu, so we might as well wait for dessert.’

‘Wait! I think he’s…he is!’ Roger whispered over the walkie-talkie, as Jim reached across the table to take Freddie’s hand again. ‘Luck of the Irish is closing in on Persian Poof, over!’

‘And Poodle Head is two seconds away from coming over and kicking Beach Blond’s arse, over!’

#jimercury #jimcury #jimercury fanfiction #oneshot #my writing #she's a killer queue

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adventuresinwonderlust · 3 years

Text

Title: Serious Inquiries Only: PART 1

Pairing: dom! yoongi x reader ft. Hobi

Warnings: Implied Masturbation, crack, humor, flirting

Rating: 18 and over

Y/N:

“Fuck, fuck, god yes!” You shake your head at the sounds of your roommate, jacking off for the fifth time in an hour. You press the volume up on the television trying to drown him out when suddenly he emerges from his room. He is completely out of breath, sweaty, and half naked. His sweats hang shamelessly off his hips. “Did you forget you don’t live alone Hobi? My god!” You sneer. “Sorry Y/N. That last one was for a customer that likes yelling. I’m done for the day. 500 dollars richer! We should grab dinner, on me!” He beams at you, yanking a Gatorade from the fridge and chugging it. “I still can’t believe you have one of those stupid pages.” You roll your eyes. He swallows hard, walking over and plopping down on the couch. “You know Y/N, you’re gorgeous. You’d make a killing on the site.” You cackle at his suggestion. “I would never.” “Never say never. Some of the most elite people at this school are on that site whether watching or streaming content.

Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.” Hobi leans back, closing his eyes. “I’ll get my porn for free thanks.” “Ah, but it's so much more than that. It's an experience and sometimes it's not even about sex. I have a customer who loves when I read to her. I mean when’s the last time you even, well you know.” He makes a lewd jerking move with his hand and you laugh out loud. He waves you off, continuing to speak. “True story Y/N. Bedtime stories, it’s the sweetest thing.” “And tell me Hobi, how much do bedtime stories run a person?” “That’s not how this works you know. If you would just look at the site. Anyway, It’s a monthly subscription. If you want specific things, that’s where extra funds come into play and it's all at the discretion of the content creator. I could say no to the sex stuff, but I like it and it makes the most money but it's not a requirement. I mean honestly, have you ever even been on the site?” “No. I haven't, and I have no interest. What would your parents say?” You ask with a raised brow. “Ah! You’re too stuffy. You should subscribe! I have the perfect person for you if you’re ever interested.” “You're out of your mind if you think I would ever pay for something like that.” Hobi laughs, getting up from the couch and heading over to his room. “When you’re ready to lighten up, let me know. Serious Inquiries Only Y/N. Until then I’m going to take a nap.” “Whatever.” You whisper, mulling over the idea in your head. Hobi wasn’t completely wrong. It had been forever since you’d been with someone. You were hyper focused on school and now in your final semester of college maybe it was time to lighten up. “Serious Inquires Only.” You whisper to yourself, grabbing your cell phone and typing that name into your browser. A little glance couldn’t hurt could it? The site pops up immediately but you can’t browse any particular pages without a subscription. The subscription offers pop up and you scoff at the prices:

*$24.99 for one month

*$49.99 for three months

*$149.99 for one year

All subscriptions come with a 14-day money back guarantee cancellation policy.

You roll your eyes and close the window. “Fuck that.” You say to yourself. “You know what I changed my mind about the nap. Let’s just go eat. I’m starved!” Hobi emerges again to grab another Gatorade and then heads back to his room to get ready.

You step out of your room and roll your eyes at Hobi who gives you a wolf’s whistle. “Ready?” You ask, pulling on a black leather jacket over your white crop top sweater, admiring how your black skinny jeans hugging your hips nicely in the mirror of your lobby. “I think we should get steaks tonight. I’m feeling fancy.” Hobi states as you exit the building. “Sounds good. I’ll eat whatever you’re buying.” You say with a laugh. “Ah, ok,” Hobi says to his phone, “Yoongi will join us.” He smirks suggestively, throwing his hand out to hail a cab. “What? Why?” You whine. “He is hungry and I invited him.” “Hoseok! You know how nervous he makes me.” “Still have a crush on him huh?” Hobi smiles, a cab arriving. “No! He’s just brooding, quiet, judging!” “Oh wow! You’re a terrible liar. You know, we are in our last year of University, you should just tell him about this freshman crush and move on already.” “I don’t know why I bother speaking to you. I swear if you’ve told him I have a crush on him, I’ll strangle you.” Hobi laughs, slapping your thigh, as he shakes his head. “You are too wound up. He’s a great guy and friend. You’re the judgmental one Y/N. He actually thinks you’re really nice and cute.” “He said that?” Hobi nods assuredly. You hum to yourself, wondering what other things the two boys have discussed.

Yoongi:

“You’re late.” Yoongi grumbles, not moving his eyes away from his phone. Another Serious Inquiries Only subscriber has come in for his hand kink section. He smirks to himself. Easy money. This one wants him to open a gift box containing lingerie. “I am only 10 minutes late. There was traffic. How long were you actually waiting?” Hobi asks. Yoongi shrugs, looking over Y/N’s exposed tummy and tight jeans. Was she always this curvy? He licks his lips, shoving his phone in his pocket. “Y/N, you look really nice. How are you? I feel like I haven’t seen you in a while.” Yoongi remarks. Her eyes widen and she tucks her hair behind her ear, fumbling over her words. “It hasn’t been that long. I’m good, you know. I mean, we’ve seen each other around or maybe you just don’t notice. I’m good anyway. How about you?” He smirks, enjoying her flushed face and nervous demeanor. He has always thought she was a gorgeous girl but tonight she looked different, tonight she looked like sin. What he wouldn’t give to grip her hips. “Uh, ok you two, pine over each other inside please. I’m starving.” Hobi cuts in, grabbing the door to the restaurant and entering. Yoongi catches the door to hold it open for Y/N.

At the table, Yoongi finds himself peaking over his menu at Y/N. She looks amazing, fresh faced, glowing even. “What are you getting?” Hobi nudges her with his elbow. “I’m thinking lamb.” “Good choice.” Yoongi states calmly. She looks over at him and gives a small smile. “What are you getting?” She asks Yoongi. “Surf and turf.” He drops his menu, feeling his phone vibrate. He maintains eye contact with Y/N, reveling in the flush of her cheeks. He swears she’s in heat, he can almost smell her. He winks to test this theory, releasing a small laugh as she clears her throat and rubs her thighs together under the table.

Looking over his phone, he smiles as he sees another subscriber join his Serious Inquiries Only page. This one joins his ASMR section, requesting he whisper sweet nothings to her. He chuckles, looking up at Y/N’s furrowed brows. He licks his lips, shoving his phone in his pocket again. “So, Hobi, what are we celebrating?” Yoongi leans back, looking at his best friend. “He made extra cash on that ridiculous website.” Y/N interjects. “She's a prude.” Hobi scoffs. “I'm not, I just feel like you can get porn for free.” “What's your favorite type of porn?” Yoongi can't help but ask. “Excuse me?” Her brows furrow. “Well, it seems like you’re yucking someone else's yum. So, I'm intrigued as to what you find acceptable.” “I'm not yucking anything, all I'm saying is it's not for me.” Hobi cuts in, “OK, ok, let's not get into a debate at the table.” “Not everyone seeks or sells sex on that site anyhow. You should educate yourself before you shoot it down.” “Wow, asshole much? I guess you're on that site seeing as how defensive you are. Sorry if I don't want to pay 150 dollars to watch some guy shoot his load on his chest.” “So, you have looked at the site?” Hobi gives a curt smile. Yoongi laughs as Y/N squirms. “And it seems as if she was in search of some guy shooting his load on his chest.” Yoongi adds, causing Hobi to laugh loudly. “Fuck you both.” “I'm sure as you know, that cost extra.” Yoongi says with ample sarcasm. Y/N sucks her teeth, huffing off to the bathroom.

Hobi laughs and laughs, releasing a sigh as he comes down. “Leave her alone Yoongi. She's just not getting any.” “Fuck Hoseok, why haven't you planned a dinner like this sooner? I'll give that girl anything she wants. She's a fucking Goddess.” Yoongi looks over towards the bathroom as he speaks. “Is that on the record or off?” Hobi asks, waving over a waiter. “Off, besides, she doesn't like me like that.” Hobi just smiles at Yoongi. “What?” Yoongi grumbles. “What can I get you gentlemen?” The waiter asks. “I will have the filet mignon, medium rare. My friend who is in the restroom will have the lamb chops, also medium rare, and surf and turf for the gentlemen to my left.” “Medium rare as well?” Yoongi nods at the waiter, handing over his menu. “Spill it Hobi.” “No can do.”

Y/N:

You take a few deep breaths at the sink, trying to calm yourself. You’re not a prude, granted it's been a while since you’ve been with someone and sure you were a bit of a homebody but that didn’t make you a prude…. did it? You splash cold water on your face, looking at yourself in the mirror. You should’ve put on some makeup. Yoongi was looking hot tonight and here you were looking drab and fresh faced. Why did he make you so nervous? He was always so confident and the way he kept looking at you had you hot to say the least. You needed to just get your head right. It was one dinner and you were home free, back to ignoring each other.

You emerge from the restroom and head back to the table. “I ordered your lamb chops.” Hobi informs you. “Thanks.” You say, resting your chin on your hand, trying desperately to avoid Yoongi’s demanding eye contact. “So, Hobi tells me that you and I will be taking a couple of courses together this semester.” Yoongi states. “Oh, I hadn’t realized.” You say, still avoiding eye contact. “I look forward to seeing you every day.” You laugh out loud at his confession. “Is that so?” “Yeah definitely. I love a woman in uniform.” He mumbles. Your head snaps almost on its own and you nearly melt away watching Yoongi lick his lips. Is he flirting or just messing with me? You weren’t sure but lord you felt it right in your pussy. “Ah, yes, food is here!” Hobi proclaims, the waiter placing plates in front of each of you.

You all begin to dig in, savoring your meals. “Mm, so good, Y/N, let me try the lamb.” Hobi says between chews. You nod, cutting him a slice of lamb. He grabs it with his fork and pops it in his mouth. He hums in delight. “Yoongi! You have to try it. Phenomenal.” Yoongi chuckles softly, chewing his food. “You want to.” You point at your lamb with your fork. He gives you a sly smile that causes you to swallow hard. He nods and you cut him a piece. You look up to find him leaning in with his mouth open. Your mouth falls open and you feel your face flush. “Ah.” Is all he says. You grab your fork, catching the cut piece of lamb and bring it to his mouth. He slowly brings his tongue out, touching the tip of the lamb with it, before wrapping his lips around your fork. You moan just a bit at the sight, feeling your slick move past your slit. “Amazing.” He whispers, never breaking eye contact with you. You nod. “Told you! So good. What a great idea to come here tonight. Go me!” Hobi praises himself while you and Yoongi maintain your locked eyes.

Hobi pays for dinner, refusing Yoongi and your advances to even leave the tip. “It's my treat you two besides, Yoongi’s got next.” He winks. You raise a brow but just shake your head. You all leave the place together. “Yoongi, you should come to our place for a night cap.” Hobi offers. “Ah, I would but I have a bunch of shit to do tonight. Maybe next time. Y/N, so good to see you. We’ll catch up in class yeah?” “Yeah.” You smile. He nods, giving Hobi a handshake and walking off. “Holy fuck! Was he flirting with me all night or was I going crazy?” You turn to Hobi, who sticks his hand out for a cab. Hobi shrugs. “I didn’t notice anything strange.” “Well did he say anything about me while I was in the bathroom?” Hobi smiles wide now. “So, is this an admission that you have a crush?” You suck your teeth. “Forget it Hobi.” “Forgotten Y/N.”

Yoongi:

Yoongi stretches his body wide at his computer, leaning in to review his newest member’s request. He had never wanted to get into the Serious Inquiries Only game but when he saw the extra money it made Hobi on the side he signed up with no complaints. He was very organized though and set very specific rules. First, he never offered sexual favors in exchange for money. It wasn’t that he was against it, he just didn’t have the time to delve into that line of work. He always saw how exhausted Hobi was after just one night of requests and with school and his part time job, he couldn’t commit. Second, he never used his real name nor showed his face. He wanted to keep his anonymity intact. Hobi was cool being recognized around campus, Yoongi wasn’t. He loved being an enigma or flat out ignored because people thought he was cold. He didn’t want that to change. Lastly, he was strict about what he provided. He only offered hand kink and ASMR on his page. At first, he was unsure of how people would respond to it, but it was an instant hit, his subscribers grew by the day. His videos ranged from gripping his bed sheets, to unwrapping silk ribbons, to whispering or scratching in his microphone. For Christmas this past year, he blessed his followers with an ASMR of him moaning. The video was such a hit, he gained 40 followers in an hour from word of mouth alone. After his first year with ‘SIO’, he began offering his yearly subscribers an exclusive gift, a personal video of their choice from either of his categories. He was a success to say the least, earning a sweet living off this side hustle. The only reason he didn’t leave his part time job was because he didn’t know how to explain the extra money to his mother when she visited him. Not to mention, he rather enjoyed teaching kids the piano.

So, here he was at his computer desk, after having gone out and buying black laced lingerie and making sure they wrapped it pretty. He began to set up his camera to shoot his new subscriber her personal hand kink video. He smirked to himself as he slowly undid the black ribbon from around the package, making sure to twirl the soft material around his long slender fingers. He let the ribbon fall to the sides of the package, running his now stretched fingers along the front of the package, smiling again at how his veins bulged out of his hands. He soon tucked his index finger under the lid of the box, sliding his hand down and lifting the lid up to reveal the red tissue paper inside. He gently rubbed the pads of his fingers atop the dressing before gripping it hard into his fist, curling the delicate paper into a ball, and discarding it to the side. He again rubs his fingertips over the contents in the box, this time it’s the Italian lace lingerie he purchased. He licked his lips, even though the camera couldn’t see him do it. He purchased it with Y/N in mind. Imagining how the gorgeous lace would hug her hips perfectly. He pulled out first the thong, allowing it to hang from his middle fingers, then stretching the fabric out to show the detail. He then grabs the bralette, twirling the straps around his index fingers and sliding his thumbs under the back straps to showcase its detailed hand stitching. He next pulls out the garter belt, resting it atop the bralette and thong, he holds it down with one hand, yanking at the clasp and releasing so it snaps back. He places the items back in the box, running both hands down the fabric again, before bringing his hand up and shutting the camera off. He releases a sigh, setting up his microphone now for his next subscribers request, when he decides to make a phone call. “Hey Hobi, what’s your address?” He chuckles at Hobi questioning him. “Just send it in a text. I want to send something to Y/N, anonymously of course.” He smirks at Hobi’s protest. “Just send the address Hoseok, I’ll address it from a secret admirer.” He hangs up without another word, clearing his throat before he begins to record, he always liked to deepen his voice when he records, always sure to keep things anonymous.

Y/N:

First day of classes consisted of nothing more than getting acquainted with classroom locations and professors. This semester you had opted to do more classes online only taking three courses in person. Psych, Critical Writing, and Literature because you felt like you needed a professor to really drill these lessons into your head. “Hobi, I’m leaving, I’ll see you later!” You shout before heading out. You didn’t wait for a reply, running out to catch a cab to campus, too lazy to walk. The school was strict about wearing their uniforms which you hated because they were still stuck in their old ways and you were stuck in a plaid skirt and knee highs. You got to campus with enough time to grab a coffee. “May I have an iced americano please?” You tell the cute barista behind the counter, digging for cash. “Make that two.” Yoongi appears from behind you, handing money to the barista before you can and looking you over. “Nice knee highs.” He smirks. You roll your eyes at him. “Thanks for the coffee.” “Sure. Where are you headed?” “Class.” “Obviously. Where?” “Main building. I’m only taking three on campus. You?” “Two in person. The rest online. I think I’m going to pick up some more shifts at my part time gig. I need to lighten the load you know?” You nod at him. “Wanna grab dinner with me sometime?” He asks next. Your eyes pop open. “Me?” “Uh, yeah, definitely not talking to the plant behind you.” “Um, I don’t know. What would we talk about?” Yoongi shrugs. “Life, school, kinks. Whatever you’re into.” He licks his lips. You feel your cheeks flush under his gaze. “Yeah, I um, don’t know about that. I mean what’s with the sudden interest in me?” “Who said it was sudden?” “ICED AMERICANOS UP.” The barista calls out. You move past Yoongi and grab your drink. “I have to go. Thanks for the coffee again. I’ll see you around.” “You sure will, maybe even sooner than you think.” You scoff, walking out of the café.

You hurry towards the main building and into your first class taking a seat quickly. “You’re really quick you know that.” You hear from behind you, turning to find Yoongi taking a seat next to you. “Why are you here?” Yoongi pulls out his phone, flashing you his schedule. “Psych and Critical Writing are my two in person classes.” He tucks his phone away, chuckling at your shocked expression. “I’m going to kill Hobi.” You say finally. “Aw, come on. Don’t blame Hobi. I’m hard to resist. You’ll find out soon enough.” You laugh out loud. “You must not hear this a lot but I am not interested in you.” Yoongi smiles, turning towards you and leaning in. He whispers closely, his breath causing your hair to tickle at your ear. “Oh, my sweet Goddess, it turns me on when you lie. I am just dying inside to find out all the secrets you keep locked away. Just know, you don’t have to hide anything from me. I’ll never judge you; I just want to make all your filthy dreams come true.” You shudder slightly, swallowing hard. “I, you.” “Shh, don’t say anything. I’m ok pretending we don’t like each other a little longer. I’m incredibly patient.” “Good morning class.” You professor walks in but you can’t break away from Yoongi’s stare. “I am putting out the itinerary for the class and on it is listed all of your due dates for assignments. You can email me any questions you have but we will meet here in person on due dates only. Welcome to big kid Psych. Enjoy your day.” Everyone, including the professor, begin to leave. You and Yoongi however are still seated, staring at each other. “I have to go.” You mutter. Yoongi smirks. “Want company? I mean we are headed the same way after all.” You shake your head at first but eventually start nodding. Yoongi nods, putting his hand out for you to take. You place your hand in his and practically melt as he runs his thumb over your knuckles.

Yoongi:

Yoongi watches as her hips sway side to side, biting his lip. He just can’t help himself; she really is a Goddess in his eyes. He had always had a crush on her but she was always so consumed by school work and the one time she was out and about she dated some piece of shit tattoo artist that dropped out in year 2. Y/N looks back at him suddenly and he quickly lifts his gaze to meet hers. “Why critical writing?” Y/N asks. “It’s a requirement for graduation.” “Not because Hobi gave you my schedule.” Yoongi smiles wide at her. “No. I mean it’s a plus but I really needed to fulfill the requirement to graduate, same as you.” Y/N nods at Yoongi. You both enter the classroom and take your seats. “Where do you work? You mentioned a part time gig.” “At the rec center. I teach kids piano.” “Really? That’s awesome. Not what I was expecting at all.” She laughs, causing Yoongi to smile also, basking in her beauty. “Sorry I’m not some jerk of a tattoo artist.” Yoongi scoffs, looking over at her, realizing he’s fucked up by the expression on her face. “Well, he may have been a jerk in the end but he wasn’t always that way and his work was great.” She huffs. “I didn’t mean to imply his job was…” “Forget it. What do you know anyhow Mr. Serious Inquiries Only?” She snaps. Yoongi sucks his teeth. “I deserve that but I don’t get the reference seeing as how I never said I was on that site. So, I don’t know why you give me shit about it.” She cackles. “Give me a break. Your fancy bracelet and earrings. How about your designer clothes? You mean to tell me that you get that on some shit part time piano gig? But hey what do I know right? Maybe mommy and daddy pay for it like everyone else at this school.” “You mean like you? What do you do for work again?” Yoongi snaps, tired of the uppity bullshit.

“None of your fucking business.” She huffs, standing and moving her seat to a row ahead of Yoongi. He rolls his eyes at her ridiculous behavior. “You’re lucky I don’t take you over my knee.” He whispers to himself with a deep sigh. “Good morning class. Please come up and grab your guide for your end of the semester assignment. You will need a partner so please choose wisely. In addition, I will be giving weekly prompts for you to complete and submit to me via email. Any questions? No? Great! Have a great day.” Yoongi moves forward to grab the assignment. “Wanna team up?” He asks Y/N. “I’d rather drink acid.” She turns and walks away. “Come on. You want an A or not?” Yoongi says. She growls a bit. “Fine.” “I need your number.” “Uh, no.” “How are we going to do this then?” “Call Hobi.” She shouts, leaving the classroom. “Fuck.” Yoongi whispers, fearing he’s ruined his shot with her.

Y/N:

You burst through your apartment, throwing your bag onto the couch. Hobi jumps up and looks at you in fear. “Bad day? How? It’s just day one Y/N.” “Yoongi is a complete asshole. First, he tries to flirt with me, then he insults my relationship with Trevor, then he forces me to be his partner in our Critical Writing class. I hate him Hobi. I fucking hate him! Not to mention all my in-person classes are basically online because the professors are all assholes as well!” You shout, popping open a beer from the fridge and chugging it. Looking down at the counter, you notice a package with your name on it. “What’s this?” You look at Hobi angrily. “Uh, a gift but you know maybe you shouldn’t open it now.” He stutters. You yank the card off of it and open it. ‘These were handpicked for the most gorgeous prude I ever laid eyes on. Xo Your Secret Admirer.’ “This is a joke, right? You’re not fucking funny Hobi.” You rip the box open and your mouth drops at the Italian Laced lingerie inside. “No, Y/N, I didn’t…. this wasn’t me.” “Oh, so who was it then?” He looks at you with sheer panic strewn across his face. “You and your friend are both on my shit list.” You point at him, snatching the box and walking over to your room. “Wait, Y/N, I really didn’t buy that. Please let me explain.” You slam the door in his face, not feeling in the mood to entertain this further.

You look over the items in the box one by one, thinking back to the last time you wore lingerie. You shrug and decide to try it on. You look at yourself in the mirror snapping at the strap of the garter belt, and sucking in a breath as it stings your skin. You glide your hands up your thighs, belly, and cup your full breast, admiring how your nipple rings glint in the light through the fabric. You think back on your relationship with Trevor, he was the one who pierced your nipples. You smile at all the crazy antics the two of you found yourselves in. He enjoyed your wild side but took advantage of it at the same time. It was something that you regretted allowing him the chance to do. After you found out he was sleeping with girls from the tattoo shop he worked in, you broke up with him immediately, throwing all your time and energy into school, forever packing away that side of yourself. It wasn’t until your feelings for Yoongi sprouted that those feelings began to stir again and your wild side came scratching to the surface for freedom. You were just too afraid to free that side of yourself, afraid of being hurt again, taken advantage of. In allowing that fear to take over you though, had you truly become a prude? Perhaps it was time to unleash that side of yourself once more, find a balance. You stood tall, proud, turning and walking into the living room. “Hoseok,” You say with confidence, watching his eyes scan your body wildly, “You said when I was interested in your little website that you had the perfect person for me. Well, I’m interested.” Hobi couldn’t speak, he just nodded slowly. “Great. Whenever you get the chance.” You nod, and turn back to your room, making sure to wiggle your exposed ass with enthusiasm for good measure.

#bts smut #suga x reader #suga x you #yoongi smut #hobi

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axwalker · 3 years

Text

Bad Timing: Kismet

Book: The Royal Romance (AU)

Pairing: Drake Walker x Alexis O’Brien (MC)

Synopsis: Alexis O’Brien is escaping a terrible past. After months of running she settles in Cordonia where she meets Drake at the bar where she works and they spend a passionate night together.

What happens when a one-night-stand turns into unexpected parenthood?

This chapter

MASTERLIST

WORDS: 3,890 🙊

POV: Dual

TRIGGER WARNINGS: None for this chapter. In the future, mentions of domestic violence, and explicit sex scenes.

ALL MY FICS ARE +18

A/N: I apologize for any grammatical errors.

I switch between Drake’s and Alexis’ POV several time in this chapter. I hope it’ll be clear enough!

PRESENT TIME Alexis

After a one-hour bus ride and a 20-minutes walk, I finally find the correct address. When I reach the massive iron gates, I punch in the code Mr. Beaumont’s assistant gave me on the phone and gape as the extensive estate comes into view when I walk through. Acres and acres of super green grass littered with pines surround the massive house in the distance. The closer I get, the more I feel like a foreigner. This might have been my world once, but my new reality couldn’t be further apart from all this luxury. I have fifty dollars left in my wallet, an eviction notice back in my 200 square foot studio, and to top it all, the worst freaking headache I’ve had in my life. Talk about a bad streak. Ironically, I’m happier than I’ve been in years. My life belongs to me; I don’t have to live in constant fear and –most importantly, I’m free. Unattached. I want to do a lot of things with my life, and no one will stop me. That’s worth the worst headache in the world or a few money problems.

I ring the bell, and a gorgeous woman opens the door. Her deep blue eyes scowl at me when I smile at her.

“Who are you looking for?” She doesn’t ask as much as she barks the question.

“Eh,” I haven’t been called shy a single day of my life, but her attitude it’s messing with the positive vibes I had coming up here. “I’m looking for Mr. Bertrand Beaumont from Beaumont Caterings.”

“This door is for house guests only. The help,” she says the word as if it tastes bad in her mouth, “must go around the house and ring the bell back there.” She’s about to close the door right in my face when two hot guys come to the door. Seriously, what do people eat in this country?

“Penelope, what are you doing answering the door like a simple maid? Where is Jessa?”

Penelope rolls her eyes. “She had to leave early. She said she asked you for the afternoon off.”

The older man nods as, the younger one grins at me. “We can discuss Jessa’s schedule later, Bertie. Please, come in, Ms.?” He asks me, still smiling.

“Ortiz. Alexis Ortiz.” I grin back, instantly liking the man with the kind blue eyes. “I’m here for the catering job.”

“I’m Maxwell Beaumont. This is my brother Bertrand—the owner and Penelope Brim, one of our party planners.”

I follow them to a huge office and give Bertrand the resumé I printed at the internet place next to my building.

“Is this all true?” He asks after a quick read.

I nod my head.

“Are you sure, Ms. Ortiz? It says here that you were working as a bartender, a barista, and a waitress in a very exclusive French restaurant, all at the same time.”

Penelope gives me a dismissive glare. “She’s obviously lying. That isn’t even possible. Unless she’s iniquitous.”

I know better than to interrupt a potential employer, even worse if it’s to correct them, but this woman is grating on my nerves. Plus, I had a lifetime of keeping my head down with Matt, and I just don’t have the patience for this kind of crap anymore. And she called me a liar. Hell no.

“No, Ms. Brim, I’m not ubiquitous.” Maxwell snorts, and I swear the other guy, Bertrand, smiles behind my CV. I refrain from telling her what iniquitous actually means because I do need this job. “I worked as a barista in a Starbucks from 5 to 11 am. Then as a waitress at “Clair de Lune” from 12 to 6 pm. Finally, as a bartender in an Irish pub from 7 to midnight or 2 am, depending on the day. You can call any of those places and see I’m not lying.” Just please, God, don’t ask for my papers.

Maxwell reads the resumé when Bertrand gives it to him. “Do you speak French and Spanish as well?”

I shrug. “I love languages, and I grew up in a house where my mom and grandmother only spoke Spanish. I learned French in school. I had an amazing teacher.”

Maxwell and Bertrand look at each other. The older brother, a younger, sterner version of Hugh Jackman, clears his throat. “I’ll be honest with you, Ms. Ortiz. Two of our waiters are absent, and tomorrow we’ll be catering to one of the most important events of the year. If everything in your resume is true, you can start training today --paid of course, and start working tomorrow.”

Paid training? Despite my throbbing head, I want to scream with happiness. “Everything is true.”

“That’s settled then. Penelope, please, darling, show Ms. Ortiz the kitchens and the ballroom. You can ask Naomi to train her for tonight. You know Regina, and she’ll want everything to go as smooth as possible.”

“Right.” Penelope turned at me with an uptight smile. “Come with me.”

I turn and beam at Maxwell, who’s giving me a thumbs up. “Thank you. I really appreciate this.”

Bertrand shakes his head. “Don’t thank me yet, Ms. Ortiz. Just do an impeccable job.” He glances at my Vans. “And for the love of God, only heels tomorrow.”

I nod and follow Penelope down the hallway.

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

DRAKE

“This is why you ditch your friends who get hitched to a relationship,” I grumble, sitting in my chair.

“He’s five minutes late,” Liam says.

Leo shakes his head. “Well, I want a goddamn drink. How come I can’t order one until he gets here?”

Liam pinches the bridge of his nose. “You two are acting like children. You can wait five minutes.”

“Maybe, but I need something, and fast.”

“Ah, there they are,” Max exclaims, hands clasped together, staring at us. “My boys.” Jesus Christ. Liam is scooped into a hug and then set back in his chair.

From over Liam’s head, Max points at me and shakes his finger. “Come here; you handsome Walker bastard.”

I hold up my hand. “I’m good.”

“Nope.” He shakes his head. “You don’t get to pass up Max’s snuggles.” Before I can move, he swoops to his knees, pulls me into a hug. . . and nuzzles.

“What the fuck are you doing, Beaumont?” I ask, my voice strong as I try to push him away.

“You smell like heaven,” he says, chuckling. No one likes to fuck with me as much as Maxwell Beaumont does. Unfortunately for me, he’s one of my best friends, and the bastard is well aware of it.

“Get out of here.” I palm his face and push him away.

Leo laughs. “Come on, man, you know Walker is a sour bastard.”

With another laugh, Maxwell retreats to his seat, unbuttons his jacket, and sits down. Hands-on the table, he looks between us and declares, “I’m in love.”

Christ. “We know,” Liam and I say at the same time, irritation heavy in our voices. Leo just rolls his eyes as he looks for a waiter.

Maxwell has only been dating Rashad for a few weeks, so it’s no surprise he’s like this—a hopeful idiot with a relentless smile. Hell, he’s been in love with the man for years. It took him a really, really long time to finally make a move. He adjusts his tie as he says, “You don’t have to be rude about it. I’m just sharing. Isn’t that what this is all about? Sharing?”

“Sharing? I thought this was about drinking as much as possible and hooking up with a hot waitress,” Leo says, flagging down our waiter.

When he arrives, I talk above the guys and quickly say, “Macallan, neat.”

“Dalmore, on the rocks, please,” Liam says, and Leo orders the same.

When the waiter turns to Max, he rubs his stomach and says, “You know, a hot cocoa would be perfect right now.”

What the actual fuck? “No.” I step in. “He’ll have an Old Fashion. Thanks.” A little confused and probably slightly disturbed, he takes off as Max complains.

“Hey, I really wanted a hot cocoa.”

“Not happening. First, because they don’t serve hot cocoas here and second because we’re supposed to be out drinking, Beaumont. And you fucking love Old Fashions. You order one every damn time. Stop complaining.”

“Sheesh.” Maxwell unfolds his napkin and sets it on his lap. “What’s up your ass?”

“Nothing.” I push my hand through my hair.

“It’s a girl.” Leo smirks, causing Liam and Max to practically jump out of their seats.

“A girl?” Liam cocks his eyebrow. “Surely not Drake --permanent bachelor, Walker. My fucking heart can’t take it.”

Fucking Leo. “It’s not what Leo is making it out to be.”

“He met her two months ago, and he’s been thinking about her ever since. Magical pussy right there.”

“I swear, Leo; I don’t care for how long we’ve been friends, next time you talk about her like that, I’ll personally break that shit-eat grin off your face”

The clown raises his arms. “I rest my case.”

“What?” Max’s eyes nearly fall out of their sockets. “Drake Walker doesn’t get attached, and he doesn’t duel his friends for a girl.”

Jesus. Thankfully the waiter brings our drinks at that moment, so I have a second to compose myself.

“You slept with her?” Liam asks after a swig of Dalmore. He’s been in a stable relationship with Hanna Lee for a year now. Once the most popular guy on school, he now spends his Friday nights curled up with her watching Netflix. I can’t even remember the last time he went out with us.

“I don’t want to talk about it. The only reason this fuckhead is bringing it up it’s because I went looking for her, and he saw it.” There I said it. Better me than Leo fucking Rys.

Max and Liam exchange a look, but Max seems too stunned to talk, so Liam asks. “You did what?”

I chug my whiskey and ask for another one. “I don’t know why. I just …” Tired of this fucking conversation, I pinch the bridge of my nose. “We had a great time. That’s all.”

“How come Leo knows about this girl, and I don’t?” Liam complains.

Max complains too. “Dude, you know I’m the romantic one. Leo over here has a brick for a heart, and Li is too busy. You need to discuss these things with me.”

“I don’t have a brick for a heart,” Leo says, surprisingly offended.

“No, you’re just still hung up on Maddie,” I say with a smirk. He shifts in his chair but doesn’t say anything. What does it feel, Rys?

“So . . . who is the girl?” Maxwell asks.

For fuck’s sake. I might as well get it over with. “I’m going to say one last time that I’m not interested in her anymore, so before your little hearts starts beating wildly for playing cupid, it’s not going to happen.”

In a snarky tone, Leo replies, “Well, of course, it’s not. She left the country. Are you that bad, Walker? Because I can give you a tip or two.” He’s so fucking annoying.

“Oh.” Max sighs, disappointed.

Leo elbows his brother and says, “He hasn’t slept with anyone since.”

And there it is. The real reason why Leo is worried about this. He lost his wingman. “I’m not an animal, Leo. It’s not the first time in my life that I go two months without fucking. I’m not you. Anyway, all this is pointless. She’s gone.”

My friends grew up with me, so they know when it’s time to stop pushing. Max interrupts the silence that follows because nothing makes little Beaumont more uncomfortable than a gap in the conversation. “Everything is ready for the party tomorrow night. The thirtieth anniversary of Rys Corporation will be a success.”

Liam nods. “Regina talked with Hana this morning. It’s the first anniversary since I took over as CEO. I need everything to be perfect.”

“What about the staff, Max?” Leo asks, smiling. Having sex at every anniversary party is a personal challenge of his.

“We actually hired someone today. She’s gorgeous.” He turns his head at Leo. “But she’s off-limits.” Leo smirks, wiggling his eyebrows. “I mean it, dude. Bertrand said he’s tired of looking for new waitresses. Two quit yesterday morning when they found out that the event was for Rys corporation.”

“Hey, I never lie. It’s not my fault if they think I’ll call them anyway.”

“Whatever, just don’t mess with her. Plus, I got to talk to her after her training today. She’s super nice. She’s Am--. Wait.” He says when his phone chimes up. “Sorry, boys. It was a text from Penelope. Apparently, the Chablis hasn’t been delivered yet. I have to call Joelle before I lose my big brother over a wine crisis. See you all tomorrow.” He finishes his cocktail and stands up.

Liam stands up too. “I should go home too. Han arrived today from Hong Kong.”

Leo checks his phone. “Wait, Li. I’ll go with you. I have a date with this girl I met last night at Kismet. Do you want to come, man?” He asks me. “I’m sure she has a friend she can introduce you.”

I shake my head. “I’ll finish my whiskey and head home. See you all tomorrow.”

It was only one fucking night. Why can’t I get her out of my head?

It’s maddening. Or maybe it is a blessing. If I’m still thinking about her after one night, imagine how bad I’d have it after several. It’s best that she stays far the fuck away from me. I’m not interested in long-term attachments of any kind. I don’t want to think about Lexie Ortiz, but she’s infected my brain. The sound of her teasing laugh haunts me.

And I can’t deny it; it was one hell of a night.

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

ALEXIS

“This is a single girl’s paradise.”

“No,” I grimace, trying to clean the spilled tomato sauce from my shirt. “Paradise would be a tropical beach with a hot cabana boy giving us free massages... and an endless supply of piñas Coladas.” Naomi laughs, the sound almost lost in the chaos of the kitchen. Chefs shouting orders, Penelope and Bertrand panicking, plates being dropped—the world of catering is a noisy business.

“Cabana boys may have hot smoking bodies and virility, Lex, but they lack two essential qualities: prestige and money.”

“So, what you’re saying is that you’d prefer an old limp dick over a young hard one? Interesting,” I answer, teasing her.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying, smart ass. I’m saying I’d take a solid bank account over a solid dick. Think about it—with all that money, he could never fuck me at all, and I couldn’t care less. And I’d be treated properly. Rich guys know how to treat a lady.”

“Trust me on this, Naomi. Money has absolutely nothing to do with how a man treats a woman.” I should know. “In any case,” I retort, grabbing another tray of drinks, “if you’re looking for old rich guys, there are tons of opportunities out there.�� I laugh at the dreamy look on her face, partly because it’s hilarious and partly because I know she’s kidding. After my training last night, she invited me to her house, where I met Theo, her little boy. He’s eight years old and the absolute love of her life.

“Speaking of fucking,” she says, her eyes sparkling, “did you see the Rys brothers? One of them is taken, but the other two are single and oh so yummy. Especially the tall and brooding one. I’ll kill for those smoldering brown eyes looking right at my soul”

I snort. “You really should stop reading romance novels, Nao. And yes. I served one of them and his girlfriend champagne earlier, but he was blond and didn’t have smoldering, brooding eyes. I thought they were only two brothers, though.”

“Well, technically, yes. But Constantine Rys --the super-rich owner of Rys Corporation-- adopted two other kids. A boy and a girl. They all grew up together.” She uncorks several champagne bottles as she speaks.

Now that my uniform is clean, I grab one of the Veuve Clicquot bottles and help her pouring the cold liquid into the glasses on our trays. “How do you know all of that?”

“I’m Cordonian, girl. The Rys siblings are almost royalty in this country. The one that is not an actual Rys is the one with the smoldering eyes. He doesn’t work for the company, though. He’s a … a vet, I think.”

A veterinarian like Drake. My stupid heart flutters when I think about him.

“Do we pay you to work or to gossip, ladies?” Penelope screams from the kitchen door.

Naomi and I roll our eyes and grab our refilled trays.

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

DRAKE

“This is a huge night for Liam,” Regina says behind her champagne glass. Constantine has been telling everyone, especially her, that he’s ready and happy to retire, but she knows him better than anyone. Leaving Rys Corporation and pass the torch to Liam is much more difficult for Constantine than he cares to admit.

“It’ll be all right, Regina. Don’t worry. Liam is more than ready to handle the responsibility.”

She throws a glance at Liam, who’s standing a few feet behind me next to his dad. “I just hope he doesn’t forget that his personal life is equally important. He and Hana work too hard.”

I’m about to answer when one of the waitresses distracts me. Her back is turned to me, so I can’t see her face, but there is something incredibly familiar about the way she moves. She’s passing drinks amongst Regina’s friends. I want to go and see who she is, but Liam catches my eyes across the room. We exchange a look, one that we’ve exchanged several times over our lives. It was Liam and me when we were younger, walking into his father’s office after getting into a fight at school. It was the two of us when we came home late, and his parents were waiting in the living room as we walked in, drunk. It was the two of us when we wrecked Leo’s new Porsche when we were sixteen, and right now, I know he needs me. Constantine is a great father, but he has too many expectations for his younger son. Liam needs a break.

Regina sees the exchange and smiles. “Liam’s very lucky to have you, Drake.” She is not our biological mother, but she loves all of us as if she was. And she’s more my mother than Bianca Walker will never be.

A couple of men look at me, and I try to remember if I should know them from somewhere. I think they’re both on the board of directors at RC. As much as I love the Rys, I will never get used to this shit. Socializing and pretending to like a bunch of people that annoy the fuck out of me. Ignoring them, I make my way to my best friend. Liam is standing with his hands in his pockets, looking serious and put together like the CEO of the largest company in Cordonia should.

“I think it’s going well,” he says as I approach. “Father was driving me crazy with all his advice.”

“It’s not only the anniversary of the company, Li. It’s also his first one as the former CEO. It’s normal he feels out of place.”

Liam nods. “I know. I just wish he’ll trust me more.”

“He does, Liam. He’s just nervous.”

I’m cut short by Liam’s grin. His gaze slides right behind me and lights up.

“Would either of you like a glass of champagne?” a female, very familiar voice nearly whispers behind me.

“I’m good,” Liam answers, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. “How about you, Drake?”

I turn around, and my heart skips a beat. Soft curves, tanned skin, and a few freckles across the bridge of her nose. The brightest, most amazing eyes I’ve ever seen. Alexis Ortiz tucks a strand of her rich brown hair behind her ear and takes a deep breath. Her eyes widen, and I see she recognizes me but doesn’t mention it. Instead, a faint smile ghosts her luscious lips, and she lifts her chin like she has a secret she won’t tell. A secret we share. Her gaze remains on Liam, almost like she’s afraid to look my way. Finally, she turns to me, and when she does, an adorable blush color her cheeks.

“Would you, uh, sir?” she asks, taking half a step backward.

“Would I what?” I press, enjoying too much the way her cheeks turn even pinker.

“Would you like a drink?” The words leave her lips fast like she wants to pronounce them and run away. I take a step towards her, remembering the night she spent in my arms and how damn perfect she felt. I know I make her nervous because I see little goosebumps erupting on her soft skin. I smirk at her. “That depends on what you’re offering.”

I shouldn’t be toying with her, but I can’t help it. I want to keep her talking, to watch her reactions, to see that sweet smile again.

“I don’t have much to offer,” she says, a hint of nervousness in her voice. “Unless you like champagne, sir.” She emphasizes the last word.

“I like all sorts of things.” I keep my gaze heavy against hers, not allowing her to look away. She fidgets with her tray and swallows hard but never takes her eyes off mine, too rebellious to look away. The longer our eyes match, the hotter my body becomes. She bits her delicious bottom lip slowly, her dark gaze boring into mine.

“Is that so?” Liam laughs beside me, and I watch her jump like she forgot he was there. Alexis clears her throat and glances around the room. She turns back to us again, this time a practiced smile on her face. The easy grin and soft laugh are both gone. She wants to get away from me, I can feel it, and I understand. She’s working; it wouldn’t be professional. This is not the time or the place to reconnect. Unfortunately for her, I have other plans.

“Gentlemen ...” With a nod, Alexis walks away as fast as possible. She doesn’t look back, but I watch her until she’s out of sight.

“What was that?” Liam snickers, loosening his gray silk tie. “I thought you were going to jump on her.”

I rub my thumb over my lip, still surprised as hell.

“That was Alexis, the girl I met a couple of months ago. Now, if you excuse me, Li, I need to go talk to Bertrand.”

@mskaneko @burnsoslow @gkittylove99 @kat-tia801 @no-one-u-know @thegreentwin @twinkle-320 @forallthatitsworth @kingliam2019 @marshmallowsandfire @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @princessleac1 @twinkleallnight @tinkie1973 @drakexwillow @moneyfordiamonds

@yukinagato2012 @alyssalauren

#drake x alexis #drake walker #drake walker fanfic #drake x mc #tw domestic violence

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

Stark Spangled Forever

One Shot: Snack

Summary: Katie’s hungry…and there’s only one snack she’s pining for.

Warnings: Language!! Smut (NSFW)

Pairings: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Rogers (nee Stark)

A/N: If you are currently reading Stark Spangled Banner for the first time as it is being reposted then this contains MAJOR SPOILERS and I recommend you wait until you’ve finished so you don’t spoil anything!

This was more self gratification after seeing the photo below...

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Stark Spangled Forever Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Steve grabbed his thermos mug full of coffee before he headed out to the hallway, meeting Katie at the bottom of the stairs with a fully dressed and clean Jamie in front of her, freshly changed Aurora on her hip.

“You ready son?” he looked at Jamie.

“Just need my jacket.” he nodded.

“It’s on the peg by the door.” Katie said, giving Steve a peck on the lips.

“Love you.” he smiled at her, before he kissed Rori’s head and she grinned at him.

“You too, have a good day.” Katie smiled, as she waved them both out of the door.

The Rogers’ household routine in the mornings always seemed to go the same. Family breakfast, change the kids, wave Steve and Jamie off…but no matter what time they got up in the morning it always seemed to be a rush. And she knew it was going to get even worse when she went back to work in a couple of months. But, as she walked into the kitchen and placed Rori in her bouncer seat with a teething ring, she looked around and realised she wouldn’t have it any other way.

As she tidied and set another pot of coffee going she spotted Steve’s wallet on the side she rolled her eyes and fired him a quick message telling him he had forgotten it. His response was almost instantaneous and she smiled, arranging to drop it in to him at lunchtime.

Once she was done she settled at the table and logged into her emails, smiling as she had one from Emmy asking her to read over one of her essays before submission. She had an agreement with the teenager, that she would proof read and highlight areas where there were errors or parts which could be improved but would point blank refuse to provide either corrections or detailed suggestions as she was keen that the work was Emmy’s own. Not that she needed much help, their eldest was a brainbox and currently flying high in her first Semester at Harvard.

And, according to her email, was coming home this weekend for the first time in 4 weeks.

Which in Katie’s opinion called for a family dinner. So she set about organising it, except the group chat kind of went a bit haywire when Emmy flipped out, sending a copy of a photo she’d seen of Steve that had been taken that morning which was trending on twitter.

Katie snorted at Emmy’s disgust but then her attention diverted fully to the photo of Steve. It must have been taken by one of his students earlier that day, and was apparently posted on twitter accompanied with the tag line of “My tutor is a snack”

Katie had to laugh because as much as she wasn’t sure that it was appropriate for students to be taking photos if their tutors on such a way, she couldn’t deny that her husband was a snack. In fact, he was more like a 4 course fucking meal in the photo in question. He was sat in a chair, reading a paper. It was ridiculously innocuous, but there was something about it that set every nerve in Katie’s body on edge. His jaw line, his hands, his wrists…holy hell he was channelling some big Daddy Vibes.

She was squirming all morning after seeing that photo. By the time she met Steve for lunch she was ready to jump his bones but there wasn’t really much opportunity to do that in the public arena of the coffee shop.

“Hey baby doll.” Steve smiled as he spotted Katie pushing Rori’s buggy through the door, standing up to greet her, hand on the glass pane to keep the door open slightly.

“Hi handsome.” she smiled, accepting the kiss he dropped to her cheek before he turned his attention to Rori, picking her up out of the pram. She giggled and waved her arms and legs, grabbing at his beard. He sat back down on the leather sofa, Katie dropping his wallet onto the low table in front of them.

“Thanks.” he said “Luckily I had a twenty in my pocket or I’d have been severely caffeine deprived this morning.”

He looked up as the waiter came over and they placed their orders for a couple of paninis and coffees before Katie sat back, nestling into the space under his arm which was resting across the back of the sofa.

Katie smirked “Had a good morning Daddy?” “Stop it.” he said in a low voice, shooting her a look as he bounced Rori on his knee. She flashed him an innocent one of her own back and he rolled his eyes before she laughed.

“I’m sorry but…it really is a damned good photo…” she fished out her phone “And Emmy was right. Steve Rogers Snack is trending.” Steve groaned. “I know, I’ve been getting screenshots off Sam all morning, well I was until I blocked him as well.”

“As well?” she frowned “You mean you actually did block Bucky?”

“He sent me a clown picture.” Steve shuddered “So yeah. I did. I’ll unblock em later. Maybe” he said, waving his hand.

Katie shook her head, watching him for a moment as he concentrated on Rori who was now chewing at her hand. Reaching into the changing bag, Katie handed over a teething ring which he took and passed over with a smile, Rori making some form of babble back as she shoved it in her mouth eagerly.

“She’s looking more like you each day.” he said, smiling and looking back at Katie.

“You think?” Katie asked, looking at her daughter.

Steve nodded. And he meant it. Whereas Jamie was a carbon copy of him, he felt that Aurora was in turn going to be the double of her mother. Her eyes were almost completely green now, and her hair was dark too. She had her mother’s nose and face shape although Katie insisted the cheekbones were definitely from the Rogers’ side, not that Steve could see it. “She’s beautiful.”

“Charmer.” Katie smiled

“Only for you.” he shot back, winking.

****

Seeing Steve at Lunchtime had done nothing to stop or help with Katie’s spiking libido. It really was ridiculous how much of effect a fucking photograph taken on the sly was having on her, so much so she was ready to jump his bones the moment he walked through the door, but with the two kids being around there wasn’t much chance of that.

“Momma!”

Rori let out a shriek at the sound of her brother’s voice and grinned as he ran into the room.

“Hey baby, did you have a good day?” she asked, looking up from where she was sat on the rug playing with their youngest, and he nodded.

“Yeah but tomorrow is gonna be even better as it’s soccer day!” he grinned. Katie smiled, Jamie hadn’t been at school for very long but he already loved soccer and baseball practice. She ruffled his hair and glanced up at Steve who was leaning in the doorway, still in that fucking jacket…

Steve spotted the look on his wife’s face straight away. He knew it well enough. A thirst, a lust, desire…

“Jamie, why don’t you take your bag upstairs and get changed?” Steve tore his eyes off Katie’s to look at his son.

“Can I play on my computer?” he asked hopefully.

“Just until dinner.” Katie said, looking at him.

He gave a triumphant yell and stood up, bounding out of the room.

“Speaking of dinner I better start it.” Katie said, standing up. “You ok to watch her?”

“Course I am.” Steve chuckled “She’s my daughter.”

“Just checking.” she said, brushing past him in the doorway. She stopped and glanced at him, her hands running up the lapels of his jacket and he gave a smirk.

“You really like this jacket huh?”

“Almost as much as I liked the stealth suit.” she agreed before she looked him up and down, making no attempt to disguise the fact she was as she bit her lip and headed off up the hallway.

Steve waited until she had gone and let out a soft groan. Since her dirty little Daddy comment before he’d had a semi-hard on all fucking day. And now, after that little display he was turned on even more. Taking a deep breath he knelt down on the floor and tickled Rori’s tummy where she was grabbing at the baby gym she was underneath. He could hear Katie gently humming and after another minute or two he picked Rori up and carried her through to the kitchen, placing her down in the playpen in the corner of the room.

Without a word he crossed over to where Katie was stood reaching into the cupboard for something. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her back towards him, his lips gently skating up her neck.

“This what you want?” he asked softly and she gave a grin, tilting her head to look at him.

“What gave you that idea?” she asked.

“Just a hunch…” he muttered, his lips meeting hers in a soft kiss, before his mouth moved to her jawline, one hand straying to the button on her jeans. He popped it easily and worked his hand into the front of her underwear and she gave a soft gasp as his fingers began to play with her sensitive flesh.

“You know…” he continued to speak as her sighs slipped from her mouth “I’ve wanted this all day doll, you’ve had me pining for you…”

“Yeah, well, the feeling’s been mutual…” she said softly, arching her back and taking a sudden breath as two of his fingers slipped insider her. She pushed back slightly, the curve of her ass pressing into his groin and he gave a hiss.

“Fuck baby…” he said through gritted teeth, and he gave a disgruntled wimper as his hand stopped what it had been doing.

“Steve…”

“Such an impatient brat…”he chastised, his mouth on her neck and as she closed her eyes she could hear the tell-tale sound of his belt buckle being undone and the zip on his flies being pulled down. His hands retuned to the front of her jeans undoing them the rest of the way and sliding them down wither panties to her ankles. As he stood up, his hands gently traced the curves of her calves to the outside of her thighs and he grabbed her hips pulling her back towards him before he bent her gently forward, nudging her legs as wide apart as the clothing round her ankle would permit.

He didn’t say another word as he pushed into her in one glide, burying himself to the hilt. Katie let out a groan, her hands slipping forward on the kitchen counter slightly as he bottomed out, before he gently pulled back and did the same again and again, hands gripping at her hips as he continued. He leaned over to nip at her neck, causing her to whimper, one hand moving from her hip to clasp her jaw, tipping her head round to meet him. His lips crashed onto hers in a hungry, domineering kiss, swallowing her dirty little moan as he picked up the pace, his hips rutting forward faster.

She gave a loud, low purr of delight as he slid his mouth to the pulse point on her neck, before he let out a growl of his own and glanced down at the point where their bodies were joined, the sight of him slamming into her worked him up even more.

His rhythm became faster, and Katie felt her hips banging against the side of the marble surface tops. She knew there would likely be some bruises there tomorrow but at that point in time she really didn’t care. Her hands tightened around the edge of the kitchen counter, her hips bucking back into his, desperate to feel him as much as she could, the feel of him brushing against her spot was finally scratching that itch, satisfying that hunger she’d been feeling all day.

“Fuck you feel so good doll…” he praised, lips warm on the shell of her ear as she arched her back slightly, letting out another keen of desire and she felt the animal in her belly beginning to stir. Steve could read the signs well enough by now to know she was close, and he moved one hand to stroke between her legs whilst he continued his relentless rhythm.

“Stevie…” she stuttered his name, before her voice became nothing but a strangled, hoarse cry and she tightened around him, her legs buckling slightly. He tightened his arm around her belly as he felt the familiar white hot ribbons surge through his body as he let himself go, his rhythm faltering as he emptied himself inside her with a groan.

Katie laughed softly as he moved back, his hands gently gliding up her arms as he kissed the back of her neck softly before he stepped back to allow herself to pull up her clothes as he tucked himself away and fastened his buckle.

“Now I gotta stand here, in damp panties and cook…” she turned and looked at him, sliding her arms round his neck.

“Well, that serves you right for snacking before dinner.” he grinned, as she let out a bark of a laugh before he dropped his head slightly, running his nose up against hers “Let’s hope you haven’t ruined your appetite completely for desert….”

#stark spangled forever #steve rogers #Katie Stark #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers smut #chris evans #chris evans characters

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hidden-otaku-stuff · 4 years

Text

Different but the Same (pt. 8)

tw: chaos?, insecurities, discussion of My Hero Academia (spoilers for season 4)

Word count: 2.9k

Rating: R18+/M

Omegaverse AU, Rating: 18+/M

Pairings: Iwaizumi x fem!reader, Ushijima x fem!reader

Summary: An unexpected encounter at the Inter-High tournament tossed you into a whirlwind. Being tugged between two males, two different packs, who will reign supreme in this battle for your heart?

Masterlist | prev | next

ch. 8: Tokyo - Day One

“Name-san.”

“Huh?” Her eyes pried open as she shifted uncomfortably. She had been slumped against Ushijima.

“We have arrived.”

A yawn interrupted her as she sat up. “Sorry,” another yawn, “Ushijima-san.”

“It’s okay. We need to get off the bus now.”

“Right!” She shook her head, standing up and stretching. The bus ride to Tokyo had been long. Despite leaving mid-day and beginning the trip in a rowdy manner, most people had also succumbed to sleep and were just waking up.

“Sleep well, princess?” Semi teased from behind her, leaning over to ruffle her hair. She playfully nipped at his fingers, pushing his hand off her head.

“Of course, I had the best pillow,” she replied, nudging Ushijima. They disembarked, the Omega helping lead the efforts to unload the luggage while Coach Washijo and Saito left to go check into the hotel.

“Omega!” Coach Washijo called from the entrance.

“Duty calls,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. “Can you make sure they finish unloading, Ushijima-san?”

“Of course.”

The Omega walked towards the coaches who handed her a clipboard with room assignments and keys. “Pass these out to the boys,” Washijo ordered before he picked up his own bags to shuffle to his own room.

“After everyone is settled, they will be able to go explore Tokyo,” Saito explained. “They know their food budgets, but remind them to keep their receipts. Hotel curfew will be at 10 PM. They must be in their own rooms by midnight at the very latest. Wake-up calls will begin at 6 AM.” Saito shrugged. “Washijo would prefer if they were in their rooms by hotel curfew, but they should be allowed to have some fun.” He smiled. “Take care of them, okay?”

She nodded, flicking through the papers. “Thank you, Coach. What will you be doing?”

Saito grinned mischievously, “I’ll be meeting up with some of the coaches and we’ll be out late.” He pressed a finger to his lips. “Don’t tell anyone.”

The Omega giggled. “Your secret is safe with me, Coach.” She walked back out to the bus where the boys were loitering around. “Alright boys!” She called, waving them to her. After relaying the important information to the boys, they all split off into their room groupings. (Name) glanced back up at the hotel once again, letting out a low whistle. Of course a powerhouse school like Shiratorizawa could afford such a fancy hotel.

“Let me carry that.” Ushijima scooped up her luggage, carrying it towards the hotel for her. She blinked, shock temporarily holding her in place. After realizing what had just happened, she ran after him.

“Wait! You don’t have to do that!” She called. Ushijima stood by the elevator, waiting for it to arrive. Semi and Tendou were with him.

“It’s not a bother.”

“That’s not it,” she scowled. “I’m not even on the same floor as you guys.” She had been placed on a separate floor in order to provide her some space from the team.

“All we’re doing is dropping stuff off, right?” Tendou interjected, shrugging. “So we can go to your floor, then ours, then out to dinner!” He grinned. The elevator dinged, opening up for them.

(Name) rolled her eyes, sulking in the corner. There was no sense in arguing with Ushijima, let alone three Alphas. “Alright fine.”

****

The Omega sighed loudly as she collapsed onto her bed. (Name) had to admit, she was having a lot of fun with the pack. Considering the issues between Seijoh and Shiratorizawa, she had anticipated more conflict involving her and her loyalties but everyone had been genuinely considerate and inclusive. Of course, the pack was almost as chaotic as Seijoh, if not more.

“(Name)-san! Sit next to me!” Goshiki bounced, patting at the empty seat beside him. The Omega laughed, slipping into the seat. Semi took the seat beside her. Ushijima stood, eyes flashing before he took the seat directly across from her. Tendou sat facing Goshiki and Hayato was across from Semi. The team had decided to eat at a local monja shop, but due to the sheer size of their group, had been split up into separate groups.

“Man, the food smells so good!” Hayato praised, practically drooling as he sniffed the air.

“It is highly-rated on Welp,” Semi commented, eyes scanning the menu. The Omega glanced around, ensuring that everyone was comfortably seated. Their table quickly placed their orders, leading room for discussion.

“Bakugou deserves to be number one hero!” Tendou argued, hands gesturing in eccentric flourishes. The other boys rolled their eyes, not really following along with the conversation. They were well used to Tendou’s random anime rants.

“He works hard, but he needs to fix his attitude,” the Omega replied, eyes on her menu. “But Mirio definitely deserved One for All.”

“Yes!” Tendou screeched, causing heads to fly up and look at their table.

“Tendou, calm down,” Semi scowled. “Don’t get us kicked out.”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” Tendou grinned, throwing his hands up with a flourish only to knock the tray out of the waiter’s hands. He blanched. “I’m so sorry.”

(Name) face-palmed. “I’m going to go check on the others,” she muttered, standing up and walking away from the table. She approached the table with Taichi and Shirabu, looking for refuge while Tendou scrambled to help clean up the mess that he had made. There, she found Shirabu and Taichi arguing about something and due to their distraction, led to their monja burning. After scolding them, she assigned Reon to be in charge of their table. Of course, once she got back to the ‘mature’ table, she had found Tendou mixing all of the ingredients for all of the different monja types to create a behemoth that ended up burnt at the bottom and undercooked at the top. By that point, she decided to ban Tendou from touching anything and only allowed Semi, Ushijima, and herself to take care of it. Hayato was assigned to monitor Tendou, who had moved on to teasing Goshiki.

She rolled onto her side, looking at her phone. It wasn’t often that she and Iwaizumi were separated, so it felt weird to be alone in her room. (Name) let out a soft sigh. At least it would only be for a few days. She sniffed her over-sized shirt, comforted by the familiar pine scent that clung to it.

Just as she was about to unlock it, a video-call came in. She sat up, excited. “Hello?”

“Hey love.” Iwaizumi was laying in their bed, propped up against the headboard as he looked down at his laptop.

“Haji!” Her grin was massive. He let out a soft chuckle, smiling at the sight.

“How are you doing baby?”

She fell back onto the bed, all stress and tension releasing from her body. “I’m okay. We just got back from dinner.” He hummed in response. “How are things back home?”

“Not bad,” he replied, shifting the laptop to get more comfortable. A pause. “I miss you.”

His hoarse whisper caused sadness to bubble up. “I miss you too,” she admitted, fiddling with a loose thread on the blanket. “I don’t know how I’m going to sleep without you beside me.”

Iwaizumi chuckled, looking around their bedroom. “Me too babe.” They remained quiet for a moment. She just enjoyed being able to hear his breathing and to see his face. He cleared his throat, “what time do you have to be up tomorrow?”

“6. You?”

“The usual.” Iwaizumi and Omega typically got up at 5. While Iwaizumi was on his morning run, (Name) would prepare breakfast and lunch. Later that evening, the Alpha would make dinner. “I should let you go get some rest. I’m sure you’re tired after all that travel.”

She pouted slightly, “but I wanna talk to you longer.”

“You’re such a cheese-ball, you know that?” He chuckled. “It’s okay babe. The sooner you’re finished with your trip, the sooner you’ll be in my arms again.” He glanced at the time. “I’ll meet you on-campus once you get back, okay?”

“Okay,” she sulked. “I love you.”

“I love you too babe.” She kissed her fingers before placing it onto the camera. Iwaizumi rolled his eyes before indulging her and doing the same. “Good night, sweet dreams.”

“Only if you’re in them,” she chirped. “Good night Haji.” The phone chimed as the call ended. She sighed, letting her phone slip from her fingers as she threw an arm over her eyes. Just as she was about to doze off, a knock at her door shook her away. (Name) stood up, tugging on a pair of sweats. She’d just been in one of Iwaizumi’s shirts and her panties. Her brow furrowed as she opened the door. “Can I help you?”

“Come hangout! The night is still young.”

Her face scrunched up. “Do you never run out of energy?”

“Nope!” He grinned, tugging on her hand. “C’mon, Omega-chan. We rarely ever get a chance to hangout.”

(Name) glanced at her phone. There were still a few hours before curfew. Pinching her nose, she sighed. “Alright, I’ll hang-out for a bit. But I most definitely need to sleep early today, okay?”

“That’s fine!”

She held her pinky up to him. “Promise me you won’t try to convince me to stay later than I want to.”

“I swear!”

****

Sleeping early ended up being a lie. It was already past midnight by the time she realized how late it was getting. “Tendou!” She shrieked, throwing her cards down. “I should already be in my room!”

Tendou cackled, looking up at the panicked Omega. “It’s fine (Name). You’re already here, you might as well stay longer.”

She crossed her arms, pouting. “I’m going to get in trouble with Washijo.” She shivered. The males grimaced. The last thing anyone wanted was to get in trouble with Washijo, who already had a gripe with the Omega.

“Just a little longer,” Tendou pleaded, kneeling with his lip jutting out as he clasped his hands together. She looked around the room. Semi just shrugged when she met his eyes, and Ushijima had a stoic expression.

“If I get in trouble, I’m blaming you guys,” she scowled, folding her arms.

“Well, I’m going to head back to my room. Don’t stay up too late,” Semi smiled, ruffling her hair as he stood up.

“Semi-Semi is no fun,” Tendou complained, crossing his arms before Semi gave a final wave good night and walked towards the door.

“How come Semi can leave and I can’t?”

“Because we like you.” Tendou fired back, smirking.

“I heard that!” Semi warned, scowling before he shut the door behind him.

Luckily, Tendou’s energy burnt out soon enough. Within an hour, he was snoring gently into the Omega’s lap as he curled into her warmth. Ushijima sat beside her, looking down between his friend and her. “Are you comfortable?”

She hummed, brushing red locks away from Tendou’s face. It relaxed under her touch, and he wriggled closer to the gentle caress. “I don’t mind,” she breathed, eyes twinkling with affection as she watched the middle-blocker. “He looks happy.” They remained in silence a moment longer. Ushijima took the time to scan the Omega, noting the small details on her face. The way the light caught her eyes, how her hair draped her face. “I’m sorry.”

Ushijima blinked. “What for?”

“For keeping you up.” Her eyes caught his as she sent him an apologetic look. “I’m sure you’d already be asleep if it weren’t for me.”

“I don’t mind. I like your company.” Ushijima shifted closer to her, their shoulders pressing together. Tendou shifted in his sleep, a soft sigh leaving his lips as his fingers wrapped around the Omega’s wrist. She lets his fingers slide down and slot themselves behind her fingers, watching silently. “Is that uncomfortable for you?”

She shook her head. “No, I’m used to it by now.”

“Used to it?”

“Mmhm.” Tendou squeezed her hand slightly, pulling it close to his chest. “The Seijoh pack is really physically affectionate.” Ushijima remained silent, a spark of irritation flickering internally. He knew they had history. He knew their packs were different. But still, why? Why did it make him so uncomfortable to think about? His thoughts were interrupted when her head fell on his shoulder. He lurched slightly, head swiveling to look down at her.

Ushijima shifted slightly, making it more comfortable for her to rest on him. The silence was deafening. He searched for words, anything to distract from the steady rise and fall of her chest. “Do you like it here, (Name)-san?” Silently he added ‘with me’. She tilted her face up, hair cascading off of her face.

“With Shiratorizawa?” Ushijima nodded. (Name) offered him a soft smile. “Of course. You’ve all been so kind to me, and I appreciate everyone’s efforts to include me in pack activities.” He gave her another stiff nod in response, his eyes shifting back to Tendou as she tilted her face slightly to look up at the Alpha. “Ushijima-san?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“What for?”

“For inviting me to be your manager. I’m having a really nice time.” She shifted, leaning more of her weight against his chest. (Name) hesitated. “It’s...been really nice getting to know you.”

“I appreciate you and all of the work you’ve done so far.” Their breathing synced up. His hand slowly moved up, wrapping around her shoulder and carding through her locks. Her eyes closed at the comforting sensation, nuzzling into the caress. “I’m grateful for the opportunity to get to know you.” They sat in silence a moment longer. He ached; he felt like he barely knew her. Rarely had he ever felt odd about something like that, but the almost suffocating silence clung to them too often when they were alone together. Ushijima swallowed, searching for words to fill the stagnating air. “What do you plan on doing after you graduate?”

She hummed, a hand still stroking through the red locks. “I plan on going to university. Maybe Tohoku? Or University of Tokyo. Whichever I can get into.”

“What do you want to study?”

“Haven’t really decided yet. I’ll probably end up doing business or something.”

Ushijima’s brow furrowed. “You don’t know?” Ever since he was a child, he had a dream of playing volleyball professionally. Not having a dream or ambition felt odd to him.

She let out a breathy laugh. “Yeah, weird right?” She gave him a half-hearted smile. “I haven’t really had a chance to think about my future. I’ve always thought about being a stay-at-home mom, but I don’t think I’d be happy staying at home like that.”

“Why not?”

(Name) shifted, Ushijima’s arm falling off her shoulder to land loosely around her waist. “I’m used to being out and about as a manager. Taking care of people, y’know? If anything, I’d probably be happier being involved in sports still.”

“You can always be a team manager,” he offered. ‘You could always be my team manager.’

She chuckled, “maybe.”

Silence fell onto the couple. Ushijima’s fingers brushed against her soft skin, sending a warmth rippling through his body. He nosed her head, breathing in her gentle scent. He remained silent, letting her presence envelope him with the warmth of a summer sun. The spell broke as Tendou let out a groan, rubbing his eyes with both hands while still holding the Omega’s hand.

“What time is it?” Tendou slurred, sitting up and burying his face into the Omega’s shoulder.

(Name) giggled, rubbing his back soothingly. “It’s after 2, Tendou. I think it’s time for bed.” Her arms slipped under his armpits, scooping him up. He warbled in distress, clambering onto unsteady feet. The red-head slumped onto her, letting her guide him to his bed. She pulled the sheets back, letting Tendou slip off her shoulder under the covers. The male face-planted, and the Omega tucked him into the blanket, rolling him over so his face wasn’t pressed against the pillow. She brushed his vermillion hair away from his forehead, leaving a gentle kiss onto it. “Good night, Tendou. Sweet dreams.” He muttered a sleepy ‘good night’, dragging her hand down to his face so he could brush his lips against her knuckles. (Name) pulled away, grabbing her coat. “I should head back to my room now.”

“I’ll walk you.”

“You don’t-”

“I’ll walk you.”

She paused before smiling at Ushijima. “Okay.”

“Give me a moment.” (Name) walked to the door, waiting patiently for Ushijima. He disappeared into the bathroom for a moment, before coming back with a clean, wrapped lunchbox. Ushijima handed it to her, bowing. “Thank you for the curry. It was delicious.”

She took it back, beaming. “When did you even have a chance to eat it?”

He opened the door, a hand on the small of her back as he escorted her down the hall. “When you were sleeping.”

The Omega grimaced. “I hope I didn’t cause you too much trouble when I did that.” They waited for the elevator to slide open.

“I don’t mind. Not when it’s you.” Her eyes focused on the wrap, playing with the end of it as a boiling flush overtook her soft features. They stepped out, making their way to her door. She opened it, stepping in. “Good night, (Name)-san. I hope you sleep well.”

He nodded, spinning on his heel to make his way down the hall. “Ushijima-san?” She called in a soft whisper, poking her head out of the door.

Ushijima turned back, looking at her. “Yes?”

“You can call me (Name), I don’t mind.”

He hesitated before giving her a stiff nod. “Alright then, (Name).”

She smiled. “Good night Ushijima-san. Sweet dreams.”

FUN FACTS

💟 (Name) had started out sleeping on the window, but due to the bumpy nature of the ride, Ushijima had pulled her against him to protect her head

💟 Prior to (Name) becoming a manager, the Shiratorizawa pack didn’t go out much because they couldn’t be trusted to control themselves

💟 The last time Iwaizumi and (Name) had been separated for an extended period of time, she’d almost ended up in Omega depression. Oikawa and the other third-years had to sleep-over with her every night until Iwaizumi had returned from his trip

💟 Tendou had consumed three of the hotel’s complimentary espresso shots right after dinner

💟 Semi almost broke Tendou’s nose one time when he didn’t get enough sleep. Since then, there was a universal agreement to let Semi sleep whenever he wanted to

💟 The Shiratorizawa pack wasn’t very physically affectionate, and it would make (Name) miss the Seijoh pack even more. Tendou was the only one who noticed and would take the extra step to be more physically interactive with her

💟 Ushijima normally doesn’t mind when there’s silence or when there’s one person dominating the conversation. But he gets very uncomfortable when it’s a silence involving him and (Name)

💟 Though (Name) had been around Seijoh for so long, she wasn’t considered a manager. The Shiratorizawa pack had been so inviting that she feels at home with them

💟 Secretly, (Name) wasn’t sure if she could handle dealing with another pack of volleyball idiots

💟 Out of all of the Shiratorizawa third-years, (Name) was the most protective and mothering of Tendou

AN: I accidentally hit ‘post’ before this was ready, I’m sorry LMAO. Also, I’m kicking off ‘spicewithskye’ today! Please feel free to flood my inbox with thirst asks. Let me know who’s living in your head rent-free :P

Please feel free to pop into my inbox if you have any questions, comments, or concerns 💞 I love interacting with you all!

Taglist: @sawamooora @kriswu46 @pantasticalcat @shadowkunoichi @awuariyuh @4lfalfagarlic @kuroowh0r3 @sourapplex @pastelpuffbar @cutepet09 @michelepiekenma @gywjd0131 @aideen00 @loudpoetry23 @scrappydaisies @chrisrue15@aideen00 @mayor-chu-of-many-towns @ ephemeralninon

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pinkanonwrites · 3 years

Text

love me, please love me

Akaashi x Reader

Happy belated Valentine's day! I wanted to write a bittersweet piece for the occasion, but I caved right at the end and made it 100% sweet instead. Basically Akaashi is a delight and I wanted to see him pine, and pine hard. I hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!

(also the song title is from a song of the same name by Michel Polnareff, which I highly recommend listening to in order to get that yearning vibe)

Akaashi had already decided by himself at an early point in his professional career that writing romance, for all intents and purposes, was easy.

Sure, there would always be details and characters and overarching, more interesting plot to work out, but the overall premise was always the same. Two characters with undeniable chemistry, kept from admitting their true feelings because of Person X or Situation Y, rinse and repeat misunderstandings and 'almosts' until the manga was ready to end. Maybe even leave room afterwards for a cute, episodic spin-off.

Easy.

The real world, however, rarely offered such simplicities.

For example, Akaashi was in love with an office worker whose desk was once across from his, and he was pretty sure they didn't even know his name.

It's not like he'd known he was going to fall for you. How could he have? There was no chorus of angels, no heavenly light from above as the world seemed to fall into slow-motion. No. On his first day in the office you had been late, stumbled in with messy hair and a haphazard stack of manuscripts that you smacked down onto your desk, and had nearly tipped your overfull coffee mug all over the floor. He could hardly call it a good first impression. And yet…

The other workers on your floor seemed to hold you in a very high regard. He'd barely been there a week when one of his concerns had been directed to your desk.

"Ah, excuse me. Takaoda-san told me you could help with this?"

Your attention snapped up from your screen to Akaashi and the folder tucked in his hands. Noticeably confused for a split second, it took a moment before realization dawned on you.

"Oh! You're the guy who just joined! Kashi-san, right? Yeah, I can help you with that!"

You didn't even give him time to correct your butchering of his name.

Not only had you solved his problem, you'd scooted your chair to the side a bit and motioned for him to drag his own over and seat himself beside you, carefully walking him through the entire process.

"There you are! I'll just email this over to you so you have the file on your computer then."

"Yes, thank you very much."

"No problem! If you have any more questions, I'd be happy to help you out."

Your kindness, it seemed, extended to the other members of your office floor as well. Not a day would go by without Akaashi seeing at least one person hunkered down beside you at your desk in various states of disarray, waiting for your kind and composed words to soothe their frazzled minds. Clearly you were a cherished member of this office.

He was sure that the warm stirrings beginning in his chest were no more than admiration at that point.

Mostly sure.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As his status with the editing company and his understanding of the industry began to rise, Akaashi was swiftly moved up to higher departments and higher pressures, longer meetings and tighter deadlines. He no longer spent as much time on the main floor where he'd started. But he still noticed you.

You'd been the first on the floor to cheer for him when it was announced that he'd be moving to his own private office. You patted him on the back and wished him well with a big, bright smile that made his stomach do something funny he tried to ignore. Occasionally you bumped into each other in the elevator, the break room, in meeting rooms as clusters of overworked people filed in and out.

And sometimes, on darkened evenings when he was leaving the building in the dead of night, he'd see you still sat at your desk. Alone in the office space, you continued to tap away at your keyboard. He'd never considered that for all the time you spent helping others with their problems, that was time unspent solving your own.

"Kashi-san?"

He faltered a bit under your tired gaze, lurking in the doorway of the floor, having finally caught your eye. He didn't even remember to correct you, again.

It didn't matter that much, though. Not when his body was already moving without him thinking, standing at the side of your desk and placing the canned coffee he'd just bought from the vending machine on its corner.

"It's almost 10. I'm surprised you're still here."

You blinked, then laughed, a sweet melodic tune. The coffee clutched in both hands, you looked up at him so sweetly that his heart hammered in response.

"Yeah, there's a lot to get done."

"Please be sure not to overwork yourself. You're a vital piece of this company."

I will, thank you… Hey, have you eaten?"

He startled, checking his watch. "N-Not since lunch."

"Let's grab something. My treat. Consider it a thanks for the coffee."

"Ah… if you insist."

Not that he needed much insistence.

And so began a comfortable pattern as late night dinners between the two of you became all the more common. It was rare that a week went by that didn't end a long and tiring day with ramen in a cozy booth, or snack foods scarfed down outside a 24-hour convenience store, your smiling face all the warmth he needed to stave off the evening chill.

Perhaps this was where he'd first realized, when you'd held a napkin out to him to dab away the teriyaki sauce smeared at the corner of his mouth: A sudden, longing lurch to do the same, to cup your cheek gently in his hand, to run the pad of his thumb over your soft lower lip. He walked home in a daze that evening, dusted with snow and brimming with warmth and confusion.

Realistically he knew that office romances weren't uncommon. He'd read enough manga and watched enough dramas to know that. And yet, he couldn't shake the concern so easily. What if your bosses found out? What would your co-workers think?

...What if it didn't work?

The only glimpses of yourself he'd gotten outside of a workplace environment were those short, shared meals. How could that be enough to judge whether you two were really meant to work well together? Was it worth risking the fallout?

No. Certainly not. Not for a silly crush. Akaashi could wait this out, he should wait this out. Keep his distance and wait until the butterflies faded and the fires died and he was left with the same feelings he'd felt for you in the beginning, appreciation and the occasional concern.

He would be fine.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

On the dawn of week three of minimizing contact with you, Akaashi Keiji was decidedly not fine.

He hadn't realized how dependent he'd become on your presence until it was unceremoniously torn away from him. Is a grown man meant to crave another person's voice so much? Their smile? Their laugh? He felt like a schoolboy again, flustered and frustrated and brimming over with emotions he wasn't sure how to outlet.

On Tuesday morning you'd come in early, clearly dressed for a date. Takaoda confirmed his suspicion a moment later when he complimented your outfit.

"I've got a blind date tonight, actually."

The butterflies in Akaashi's stomach choked and died, falling like stones into the pit of his gut. He nearly shocked himself with the single word that screamed across his rushing mind, that he didn't dare speak aloud.

No.

He felt like a jerk. He felt like a coward. He felt like a horrible, selfish child. But when you saw him standing in the hall and lifted a hand to wave, Akaashi ducked his head and hurried to his office, pointedly and obviously ignoring your greeting.

Well done Keiji, surely they would return your feelings now.

Very little got done that day. And as the clock ticked ever and ever closer to 5pm, Akaashi knew he needed to make a choice. And he knew he needed help making it.

Lifting his cell phone, Akaashi called the one person he knew could give him an easy answer.

"Hey, hey, hey! Akaashi! How are you? Aren't you at work right now?"

"Yes, Bokuto-san. However, I had an important question I was hoping you could help me with."

"Of course! Must be real big if you're calling me about it, huh?"

"Yes, it is."

Faced with the possibility of finally having an answer to his concerns, Akaashi found himself at a loss of where to start.

"Bokuto-san, have you ever had feelings for someone but weren't sure if telling them was the best idea?"

"Oho? Romance questions? Now I'm real interested!" He could hear Bokuto's big, silly grin even over the phone. "Well yeah, some of the cheerleaders are pretty hot. And you remember that guy at the ramen place who always gave me extra coupons? Pretty sure he could've been my soulmate!"

"Bokuto-san, I believe my situation is a touch more serious than a waiter who gives me extra coupons."

Bokuto maturely responded by blowing a raspberry into the receiver.

"Well, if it's that serious why haven't you asked them yourself? You've gotten this torn up about it to call me, so it must be the real deal."

"It really isn't that easy…"

"Isn't it? I mean, they either like you or they don't, right? If they do, great! If they don't, well then you can just start getting over them faster."

Akaashi found himself struggling for a reasonable response to that.

"Hey, all I can say is, you miss a hundred percent of the shots you don't take! Someone famous said that. Shakespeare, I think."

"Wayne Gretzky."

"Bless you."

Sighing, Akaashi glanced at his watch. You would probably be leaving soon. You might even already be out of the office. "...Thank you, Bokuto-san. If you'll excuse me, I need to catch an elevator."

"Sure thing bud! Lemme know how it goes!"

Click.

Akaashi's office door swung shut alongside the soft click of Bokuto hanging up. He skittered on the tile, trying to right himself as he sprinted around the corner, stopping only for a second at the window to the office floor. No one there.

He was probably too late already, why wouldn't you have left early on the night of your date? You worked so hard every other day, surely you would take the few extra minutes to prepare yourself. You were smart like that. Smart, and beautiful, and considerate, and there was no way Akaashi was going to just let you walk off with another man, not without even trying…

Around the corner, standing at the door to one of the elevators, there you were. Why did you look so… grim?

"Oh, hey!" You forced a smile onto your face as you gave him a little wave. "Clocking out on time? That's not like you."

Akaashi opened his mouth. Nothing came out. He tried again, clearing his throat hard.

"Oh, damn. Here."

You pressed a half-empty water bottle into his hands.

"Were you running? You're wheezing like crazy."

Staring down at the bottle in his quivering hands, his mouth moved before his mind could work.

"A date!"

You froze, finally focusing up on his face, staring so, so deeply into his eyes. Or maybe you were just looking at him normally. He could no longer tell. "Oh, yeah. I had one. He had to cancel."

The water bottle clattered to the floor as he gripped both your hands in his.

"Would you consider dinner, then?... With… me? Not like we usually do, this one's…. It's…."

Your hands were so warm. You could probably feel how sweaty his were. Gross. He should probably let you go before you got creeped out or-

"A date?"

"....Please."

A giddy, boisterous laugh bubbled out of you, one he had only heard after you'd downed a few drinks yourself. You squeezed his hands tight, giving him a smile that washed his anxieties away like chalk beneath the rain.

"I'd like that."

"Ah. Yes. Shall we go then?"

"We shall." You hooked your arm around his elbow, giving him a playful grin. "Lead the way, good sir."

Akaashi had already decided for himself at an early point in his professional career that writing romance, for all intents and purposes, was easy.

Living it, though? That was much harder. But he couldn't find it in himself to mind.

"Oh! Takaoda finally told me I've been getting your name wrong this whole time? Why didn't you say anything? I feel like such a jackass!"

"There, uh, a good time to mention it never seemed to come up?"

"Well I have a lot of making up to do, don't I Akaashi?~"

"I'm looking forward to it."

#haikyuu #hq #haikyuu imagines #haikyuucreations #valentines collab #akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #akaashi imagines #long post #2100 words

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wylanvnneck · 3 years

Text

This 2 part fic was written for the Secret Snusband Gift Giveaway hosted by @jurdannet and @jurdannetrevels for my lovely Knife Wife @lilacs-with-lavender.

Rating: T for Tyrannosaurus

Summary: Inspired by an episode of my favourite Cop TV show, ‘Castle’, in which a bet takes place with pretty high stakes, although the plotline has been tweaked to fit this fandom. My Knife Wife said she loved the Enemies to Lovers trope so that’s what I’ve (tried to) write here and I hope you enjoy the story of Homicide Detectives Jude Duarte and Cardan Greenbriar and their mutual enmity.

Warnings: Not so graphic descriptions of murder and mention of drugs. (Really not sure what I need to tag, so please let me know if I’ve missed something.)

Posted as a Gift on AO3 | Part 1 | Masterlist

Part 2

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“Lil, It’s 7.15 and I still need to decide on a dress, help!”

The ever helpful Liliver is currently perched on her bed, legs crossed and unruffled in stark contrast to Jude’s frantic rummaging of her sparse closet. She comes across a sparkly orange sequin dress that she holds up for her friend’s inspection.

“Honey. You’d look like a broken disco ball.”

“The girl at Saks said sequins were in.”

“She lied.”

Ugh. Damn Greenbriar for his stupid bets and his stupid dinners and his stupid brain which occasionally stumbled upon solutions. Defeat was a bitter pill to swallow.

She’s contemplating over whether to excuse herself for the night by pretending to have an infectious disease which requires keeping all other humans at a distance of five feet, when the doorbell to her apartment rings.

“Lil, would you mind answering the door for me please?” she asks, conscious of the fact that she was dressed in only her underwear.

“Sure, but when I come back you’d better not be wearing that ghastly hot pink dress I saw in there,” her friend calls as she unravels herself from the cozy mattress and leaves the room.

Foiled again. Jude’s just about out of options and the only thing that she can fathom being worse than having to be Cardan’s fake girlfriend for a night, was having to do so while being completely underdressed and out of place in a roomful of his father’s closest business associates.

“There was a package delivered to your doorstep,” Lil says as she re-enters the room, carrying a white parcel in her hands.

“A package? But I haven’t ordered anything.”

“Open it, maybe there’s a note,” she hands it over. The detective inside of Jude is wary, but she’s too curious to not open it so she gently rips open the package’s wrapping to reveal a large square box tied with a silver ribbon and tag attached to it. ‘Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo’ are the only words written on it. She knows immediately who it’s from and she feels an answering surge of anger along with an emotion that isn’t easy to decipher.

“I knew he was arrogant, but this-” She roughly unties the ribbon and tears open the lid and inside is the softest folded up material that she’s ever seen. Gently, she takes it out and it unfolds, turning into a simple but gorgeous black cocktail dress with an A-line skirt and off the shoulder sleeves, the picture of elegance.

Lil’s silver eyes are wide when she lets out a low whistle, “Damn.”

Jude is speechless.

“Wow.” Cardan’s voice sounds slightly higher pitched than usual before he clears his throat, standing just outside Jude’s doorway. “You clean up nice, detective.”

With a little help from Lil, she had accessorised the dress with a silver choker necklace that had belonged to her mother and a small velvet clutch. Her hair was carefully put up with dozens of little bobby pins and she feels sexy and ready to conquer whatever the Greenbriar family had in store for her.

Cardan himself is dressed in a coal coloured suit, a silky scrap of fabric tucked into his jacket pocket, shiny enough to match his eyes. There’s the faintest shimmer of gold on his defined cheekbones and his curly locks are just untidy enough to look stylish and it’s unfair how handsome he is.

“So do you.”

He steps back and holds out his arm for her in the way that gentlemen did in those historical dramas that Lil was always forcing her to watch and it shouldn’t have made her blush as she clutches the soft fabric covering his arm, but it did. She blames it on the corridor’s harsh fluorescent lighting.

Together they glide to the elevator and wordlessy head to the garage where Cardan’s sleek grey Maserati stands out amidst the other rundown cars belonging to the other apartment tenants, her neighbours, yet another reminder of all the differences between the two of them.

“Your carriage awaits you, my lady,” he opens the door for her, something that most of her few disastrous dates had neglected to do in the past and she’s so used to thinking of him as an indecorous scoundrel that him being so courteous was almost unwelcome. She’s not used to spending time with him outside of work and she’s strangely out of her element.

Cardan goes round and gets in on the other side and Jude secures her seatbelt as he starts up the car and swivels his head around to watch the back of the car before reversing.

They’re cruising along in his car and the only noise is the smooth purr of the Maserati and it smells of the pine air freshener that he’s pinned up to the rearview mirror. She leans back in her smooth leather seat and watches as they pass by buildings and skyscrapers and shops, the city buzzing with nightlife.

“So, what exactly is it that I’ve gotten myself into?”

Cardan takes his eyes off of the road to shoot her a swift glance before focusing back ahead of him, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the gear stick.

“Well, it’s a dinner party with some of my father’s closest friends, all of them snobs and all of them with their own agendas. I suppose I should also mention that this party is to celebrate the win of his company’s recent lawsuit.”

“Sounds like it’ll be wonderful.” Her words are dry with sarcasm. She has no desire to spend the night making polite conversation with aristocratic stiff necks who would look down upon her, but a bet was a bet and she had to admit that so far Cardan wasn’t making her regret her decision to agree to his challenge.

He surprises her by letting out a low and husky laugh, “You have no idea.”

There’s an awkward silence.

“Thanks for the dress, by the way.”

“You’re welcome.”

For the short remainder of the ride the only sound that can be heard are the songs being played on the radio.

The party is in high swing by the time they get there, champagne glasses clink, waiters in their smart uniforms walk around carrying trays of hors d'œuvre and the low rumble of conversation and piano music fills the air. The private outdoor venue is large and there are fairy lights strung on the bordering walls and tea candles on each table, creating an overwhelming effect.

There’s a slightly raised ramp at the other end of the entrance where a podium had been set up, complete with a banner displaying a fancy script that reads ‘Elfhame Enterprises’, which was the name of Cardan’s father, Eldred Greenbriar’s company.

Cardan has been holding her hand since he opened the car door once again for her and now, standing at the entrance of the party and waiting for his invitation to be accepted by the guard stationed at the gate, he squeezes her hand tightly in his and the act seems unconscious. There’s a tension clearly written on his face.

For once she doesn’t need to raise her head to speak to him, thanks to her three inch heels and she leans over to discreetly whisper in his ear, “You ok?”

This time the gentle squeeze that he gives her is definitely on purpose.

“I’m fine.” There’s the smallest of curves to his lips.

A diminutive lady with pale skin and Cardan’s sharp cheekbones and raven hair bustles up to them, a long stemmed wine glass filled to the brim held loosely in her hand. Jewels glistened on her long and low-cut gown, adding to the air of opulence that she exuded.

“Cardan, you’ve finally arrived. Oh and you’ve brought someone with you!”

“Hello, mother.” There’s a tightness in his smile. “Yes I did, allow me to introduce you to Jude Duarte.”

Stepping forward she firmly holds out her hand to Cardan’s mother and is graced with the barest of shakes in return, “You may call me Ma’am.”

Ma’am?

“Of course, thank you...Ma’am.”

Mrs. Greenbriar gives Jude a long and thorough onceover, dissecting her with cold eyes as if she were a mere insect and the feeling is extremely disconcerting. She looks to Cardan for support, but he looks just as out of depth offering her a look of sympathy with the features that so resembled his mother’s.

“So, Judie, what exactly is it that you do?”

She stands taller and staunchly replies, “I’m a Homicide Detective for the 12th precinct.”

“Ah. I see.” The words reverberate with barely hidden disappointment and distaste and just like that she no longer pays Jude any attention, turning to her son and reaching out to possessively clutch his arm and whisper something in his ear which makes him tighten his jaw further before bouncing off, wine spilling over from her glass.

“That was my mother.” Cardan says, unnecessarily.

“Right.” Jude couldn’t help what but wonder about what sort of a childhood he would have had to endure. Perhaps his mother hadn’t always been so disparaging. It seemed that there was a whole different side to Cardan’s life that she’d never known about.

“She's - hard to explain. I apologise for her behaviour though, she shouldn’t have treated you that way.” He’s sincere, but there’s also an underlying note of sadness. The type of sorrow that you would feel if you were let down yet again by someone that you always gave second chances to. Her heart gives a pang on his behalf. Before she can reassure him he continues, as if desperate to push the subject behind them. “Anyways, let me go get you a drink, what’ll you have?”

To the side of the grounds is a long table covered with a white cloth with various bottles of alcohol lined upon it, their colourful glasses glinting under the fairy lights. Behind the bar there’s a bartender in uniform, smoothly mixing drinks to order as rich elites look on.

“Um, maybe a Martini?” She names the first drink that comes to mind.

“A Martini, huh? Dirty, perhaps?” His trademark flirty smirk makes a reappearance and Jude knows exactly how to handle it.

“Yup.” She pops the ‘p’ in what she hopes is a seductive manner. “Just the way I like it.”

His pupils seem to darken just the tiniest bit and his mouth makes a slight ‘O’ shape before he promptly turns on his heel in the direction of the bar muttering, “I’ll be right back.”

After a few moments of standing near the entrance, moving only to accept a smoked salmon canape from a passing waiter, Jude pulls out her phone from her purse to find multiple texts from Lil.

So? How’s it going?

If you need me to call and be your ‘family emergency’ so you can escape, I can totally do that, just say the word.

Jude

Judeee

You alive?

Biting back a grin she reassures her dramatic friend that she was definitely still alive. She’s just pressed send when she senses someone’s stare on her and something about it makes her skin crawl. She looks up and is met by the sight of a tall girl in a jade green V-cut and backless dress with vibrant blue hair. Nicasia.

“Why, Judie, fancy seeing you here!” Jude inwardly grimaces. Nicasia’s voice hadn’t gotten any less painful to hear since their last encounter. Standing in front of her now, she can’t help but think that she looked slightly ridiculous in all her fripperies, opaque pearls dangled from her ears and around her neck, gemstones glistening on her hair and cerulean eyeshadow that completely overshadowed the rest of her face. Strange to think that the last time they’d met, Jude had been plagued with envy, not even really knowing why.

She plasters a carefully manufactured, artificial smile on her face. “Nicky! What a delight to see you again!”

Nicasia’s face twists for a mere second before her cheerful and friendly facade is back in place. “Quite. Although, I can’t imagine how you’ve come to be here.”

Her words are clearly a question, one that Jude answers beamingly, “Oh, I’m here with Cardan. As his date.”

She watches as the blue-haired girl’s eyebrows fly up her forehead, unable to contain her surprise. Jude knows a moment of smug victory and Cardan chooses this moment to walk up behind her carrying two cocktail glasses in his hands. He stops right next to her, handing her a glass with clear liquid and an orange twist inside it before slipping an arm around her waist, sending a zing up her spine. What the hell did he think he was doing? She briefly considers shaking him off, before realizing that he was holding her this way for Nicasia’s benefit. After all, she was his pretend girlfriend for the night.

“Nicasia! How lovely to bump into you!” His smile is just as fake as Jude’s had been and that fact shouldn’t give her a moment of satisfaction but it did.

“Why hello there Car! Yes your mother invited me, wasn’t that sweet of her? And I was just talking to Judie over here, it’s been lovely seeing her again.” She brings a hand up to her neck and starts twirling a pearl necklace. “I didn’t realise you two were an item?”

Cardan holds her even tighter against him. “Well, what can I say, she swept me off my feet.”

He turns his face to her and gives her a subtle wink before molding his expression into an excruciatingly sappy look of affection, the kind that only existed in extremely cheesy early 2000s Disney movies. Suppressing a smile she returns the look to the best of her abilities.

“Aww, Honey Bunch, you are too adorable!”

Go big or go home, right?

Cardan has difficulty not breaking into laughter but he manages to hide the hysteric sound that leaves his mouth as a deep cough and if this charade went on for much longer she didn’t think she could resist cracking up either.

“Only for you, Kitten.” That almost undoes her.

Nicasia makes a low sound of disgust at their little act and barely bothers to make up an excuse for herself before stalking off, her stilettos clicking against the paved pathway.

“Oh thank God she’s gone, I was afraid that we’d be regaled with ‘Nicasia’s Trials During Sea Travels, A Saga; Part II.’” He’s referring to her last conversation with Nicasia when she had dropped by the precinct to drop something off for him and had ended up spending almost half an hour recounting her issues with sea-sickness. By the end of that half hour Jude had felt like clawing her eyeballs out.

She can’t help but laugh at both his comment and the recollection of their ridiculous masquerade and he rewards her with a look of astonishment, before a slow smile spreads over his face, eyes unbearably soft. “There’s that laugh.”

He’s referring to their conversation at Fair Folk Inks when he’d accused her of being uptight. The recollection should prompt Jude to make a snappy retort, but instead she simply swallows against the sudden lump growing in her throat and her heart is beating quick enough for her to hear. What on Earth was going on? This entire night had felt strangely like being stuck in limbo, her and Cardan shedding their competitive workplace relationship for one that was a lot more informal, a lot more together.

She takes a sip of the forgotten Martini in her hand, trying to push her errant thoughts away. Before she can think of a way to defuse the situation, the tinkling sound of metal being struck against a glass rings out through the night air.

Unnoticed by her, an elderly gentleman in a midnight blue suit that contrasted heavily with his bright blonde hair and owlish bronze eyes had stepped up to the podium. In his ring clad hands he held a wine glass and a fork, explaining the sound that she had heard earlier. Standing a little behind him but at his side is Mrs. Greenbriar, gripping a re-filled glass of wine. There also appears to be someone else standing next to her on the ramp, but the crowd around it is so thick that Jude can’t quite make him out.

“And there’s good ole’ Dad.” Her date for the night doesn’t sound at all enthusiastic about the appearance of his sire at the podium. “Looks like he’s about to grace us with an Eldred speech.”

And indeed, the old man waits until everyone is paying attention to him before he sets down the fork and raises his full glass in the air as he speaks. “Ladies and Gentlemen, as I’m sure you all know; since otherwise all you blighters wouldn’t be here,” there’s a slight smattering of obligatory laughter, “Elfhame Enterprises has recently undergone a lawsuit, which we came out of with a resounding victory against the Seelie Corporation, as everyone knew we would. Nevertheless, let us raise our glasses in celebration and as a toast to many more years of victories and resounding successes!”

United, his entire audience dutifully raises their glasses in a toast and downs the contents, Jude herself takes the smallest of sips from her Martini out of respect, although the alcohol tastes more bitter than before. She had never been a huge fan of these big businesses that bribed and blackmailed and pocketed money for themselves at the cost of so many others and she’d been a detective for long enough to cement that dislike. Then, she makes the startling discovery that Cardan himself had not raised his glass, nor taken a sip, instead, the hand that clutched his drink was doing so so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. Before she has the time to question his surprising behaviour Eldred continues speaking.

“In regards to the many years to come for Elfhame Enterprises, well, as you all know I’m not as young as I once was, although I can definitely still party the way I used to,” more polite laughter,

“and it is very likely that I shall be retiring for good in a few years. Until that bittersweet moment arrives however, I am glad to announce that working right along beside me and learning the ropes will be my heir and the man to whom the running of my wonderful company will fall to...my beloved elder son, Dain Greenbriar!”

If a meteor had just flown across the sky and landed two feet away from her, Jude couldn’t have been more shocked than she was at that moment. Cardan had a brother.

She watches in slow motion as the previously hidden figure beside the now jubilant Mrs. Greenbriar steps forward to stand by his father. Unlike Cardan, Dain was the picture of his father, except 30 years younger. His blonde hair was light and shiny and his face was harsh and unforgiving, the angles seeming as sharp as a blade. His handsome but smug smile rubs Jude the wrong way, making her instantly dislike him. Next to her, Cardan wears a shield of uncaring resignation, but whilst she watches him watching his family, there’s an underlying sadness seeping from his countenance and she knows him well enough to detect it.

Jude had always taken Cardan at surface level, he was rich, came from a wealthy family with high connections and lots of influence and he was also a playboy. To her, that meant he had been given an easy life, one where he never had to work hard for anything and got a free pass into doing whatever he liked, so very different from the life that she had lived with her struggling single mother after her father had passed away during an accident at his forge. And now it looked like her disdain for his background had been unfounded. His mother seemed to only care about money and positions, his father was no better and from the self-satisfied grin on Dain’s face she could surmise that he was the golden child of the family, coveted by all and ‘overshadower’ of his younger brother.

The same younger brother whose existence his entire family and their friends seemed to have forgotten about.

Enough was enough.

She deposits her Martini onto a passing tray and does the same with Cardan’s untouched one which she wrestles from his tight grip, before reaching out to take his hand in hers. He tilts his head and considers her for a moment before surrendering with a slight shrug, his usual debonair sucked out of him.

“Come on, let’s get out of here.” She drags him out through the entrance, not stopping to consider if any of the guests was watching them in the turmoil of congratulating Dain and his father.

The moment they’re out of the gates she stumbles into a nearby deserted alleyway, towing a bemused Cardan along with her. They come to a sudden stop right next to a streetlight, and unhesitatingly Jude plonks herself down onto the relatively clean looking sidewalk, with no regard for her new dress.

“Sit.” She pats on an empty spot next to her.

Cardan raises an eyebrow at her, before giving in and seating himself in the place she’d indicated. Her heel clad legs stretch out next to his feet encased by fancy leather Oxford’s.

“Talk.” She silently encourages him with her eyes.

“I-” He starts, then stops. Struggling to meet her steady gaze he finally bows his head and forces himself to speak. “I suppose you could say that my family has never been the most loving,” understatement she thinks, “and ever since the day I was born I was nothing like my big brother, he talked; I watched, he walked; I crawled and it was always like that. He would excel at school, I used to run riot with my friends. I always knew that they loved him more.

“When it was time for me to find a job, I knew that I didn’t want anything to do with the corporate world, I’d seen what it did to my parents and my brother and I wanted nothing to do with it. So I decided I’d do the exact opposite. I’d try my hardest to fight for justice and go against everything that my family stood for, corruption, money and power. That’s why I became a cop, why I enrolled at the academy, why I used my father’s blood money to pay the fees, so I could give back to the community in even some small way. Needless to say, my parents weren’t very happy with that decision.”

His words hit Jude like a volley of arrows. She’d been so very, very wrong about the man sitting next to her. This man who fought so hard to escape his family’s legacy. Regret rushes through her and reaches out for his hand and squeezes it gently, the way he’d done to her earlier.

“Cardan, listen to me, what your family thinks about you doesn’t matter. I wish that you’d grown up with parents and a brother who loved and treasured you the way you deserved, but you know what?

“I think you should be proud of who you are. Because everything that you’ve been through has made you who you are today; Cardan Greenbriar, a pretty smart cop - despite what I said earlier, it wasn’t true and I’m extremely sorry for it - and a partner who always keeps up with me and someone whom I wouldn’t hesitate to entrust my life to and the man who manages to charm everyone in the precinct with his magnetism.”

He’s squeezing her hand right back and his eyes are glistening suspiciously as they burn into hers. A shaky smile manifests at her last few words after which he looks down once again and mutters, “not everyone.”

“Huh?”

“Not everyone.” His voice is stronger now when he raises his head again, more combustible. “You said that I’ve charmed everyone at the precinct, but there’s one woman who appears to be immune, despite being the one woman that I’ve had feelings for for quite a while now…it’s you, Jude.”

She can hear the blood rushing in her ears as her heart thumps. He thought she was immune to him? So had she, she’d thought she hated him, but now she’s wondering if what she felt for him was so much more than hate. Yes, he had her hackles rising faster than anyone else did and his occasional arrogance was a never ending source of annoyance to her, but he was also the man who understood her when she was working overtime on a tough case, always bringing her coffee whenever she pulled an all-nighter, always making sure to inquire after her mother’s health, always making sure she had a safe way of getting home. So many times he’d helped her out in little little ways, disguising his kindness as him merely trying to get under her skin and now her oblivious self was finally starting to realize it.

He smells like pine and Cardan in the aftermath of his confession, and he’d called her Jude, not ‘Duarte’ and he had feelings for her and what she’s about to do next was something that she never dreamed that she would do before, and yet, it was somehow inevitable. She leans over and kisses him.

His lips are so very soft, like a feather, and the moment they meet hers she bursts into flames. This kiss was unlike any that she had ever had before, It was a forge-fire hot conflagration and she didn’t care if it burned her. The flame that had always been there between them is stronger than ever and it felt as though all this time the ‘hate’ burning through them had been hiding a much more powerful passion beneath it.

He brings his hands up to her neck and gently tugs at the bobby pins holding up her hairdo. She barely notices as they skitter to the pavement, leaving her brown locks down for him to pull at. She does the same to him, carding her fingers through his thick curls, curls that felt as sleek as a puppy’s fur against her questing hands.

Panting, he pulls away first and she has to force herself not to follow his lips with hers. Slowly she opens her closed eyes and looks at him, so close now that she can see the slightest flecks of colour in his dark eyes as his breath stirs her loose hair.

“Wow. That...wow,” he babbles, “I - we should date, that was, I mean-”

“Cardan?”

“Yes?”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

He does exactly that and later, when he asks her out, she has no answer for him but ‘yes’.

The End.

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Liles, this fic was for you and I hope you enjoyed it. It’s been really fun getting to know more about you through our anon asks and answers and feel free to PM me anytime💕

Once again, I’m tagging: @cupcakesandkittens and @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln

Please let me know (via ask or PM) if you’d like to be added to or taken off of my taglist!

#tfota #dd writes #the folk of the air #the folk of the air fanfiction #tfota fic #secretsnusband #jurdannet #jurdannet revels #header edited by me

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supernatural-jackles · 4 years

Text

The Man on the Side of the Road Part 11

Title: The Man on the Side of the Road - Part 11

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 7,930

Warnings: Minor Angst, Pining, Mentions of the Kiss, Self Hate, Fluff, Male and Female Receiving, Smut

Summary: Driving down the road, going well over the speed limit. You come across a man walking in the opposite direction with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. His head cast down as he walked. Your gut instinct is telling you to check on this man, no matter what your parents told you growing up. Little did you know just how much this would change your life.

The Man on the Side of the Road - Masterlist

A/N: I really hope y’all like this part! As always, feedback is the reason I keep sharing, so please share your thoughts. Happy Reading!

The two of you were back on the road, heading back to your lives once more. You had the windows rolled down, your hair whipping around a little in the breeze. You couldn’t take your mind off of everything that happened while you were in Palo Alto. It was one of the reasons why you were looking forward to heading home. You wanted to get back to having your own space, and time to yourself. You wanted to get back to cooking dinner, and going to school. Reality.

The first day on the road was much like it was when you drove to Sam. One of you slept while the other drove. Dean drove first and you took the backseat to sleep this time around. You couldn’t shake the feeling you had inside. Ever since you kissed, the tension had been getting more intense. Your feelings certainly didn’t help at all. Your head was continuing to convince you that you were better off friends. That Dean was into someone else, and it was simply a moment you shared and the moment was over. Whatever happened in Palo Alto stayed in Palo Alto. But you couldn’t help but wonder what was soaring through his mind. If he was affected the same way you were.

You were about three or so hours away from Lawrence. You sat shotgun while Dean drove. His cassette tapes playing through to give you some background noise. You liked his taste in music, so there were no complaints from you. Hell, there wasn’t a whole lot coming out of your mouth in the first place. You didn’t know what to say? And what if you said something and things got awkward. What if you said something and he decided to pack his bags and leave you? Why were you so fucking reliant on having someone by your side? Why couldn’t you be independent? Why couldn’t you handle life on your own?

“You want to stop somewhere and grab some dinner?” Dean broke the comfortable silence. For a moment, you almost didn’t register what he said. You turned your head, and glanced over at him.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Dinner sounds good.”

He drove for another ten minutes before pulling into the parking lot of a restaurant. It wasn't fancy by any means. But it certainly sold more than just burgers and fries. It felt good to stand up after being in the car for so long. You stretched out your legs and your back, feeling a couple of cracks in all the right places. Dean led the two of you into the restaurant, holding the door open for you to walk in first.

You picked the first table you could find. It was in the middle of the restaurant, which wasn’t all that busy. It was a table for two, and it was big enough to be comfortable for the two of you. You were exhausted and you felt it more now that you were out of the car and up and walking. You just wanted to be in your own bed. You couldn’t have been more thankful that you still had two days until you had to be back for the rest of your semester.

“Hello you two,” the waiter greeted you. He had bright red hair, and freckles coating almost every inch of skin on his face. He had to be in high school by the looks of him. He grabbed his notepad from his apron, sliding his pen from the spiral part. “What can we get started for you?”

“We’ll take two waters please,” Dean started.

“Perfect,” he nodded. “I’ll be right back with that and to take your order. Sit tight.” He took off with a hop in his step, making your eyes go wide at just how enthusiastic he was. No one you knew was that happy to be at work.

“I’ll have what he’s taking,” Dean joked, picking the menu up from the table. You did the same, glancing over it to see if there was anything that tickled your fancy. There were ribs, steak, and three different types of chicken on there. Your eyes landed on the classic burger with a side of fries. That was the only thing you even found interest in. Peppy Pete was too much for you.

“What are you thinking?” you asked him.

“The burger,” he answered. “You?”

“Same,” you half smiled.

The waiter came over, taking your order before grabbing the menus from you. He told you it was going to be about ten minutes until the food was ready, and to just sit tight. You yawned as you leaned your elbows on the table. It was only three hours until you were home, and that was the only thing you wanted. Well, that and sleep.

“You okay?” Dean questioned, taking a sip of his water. “You’ve been really quiet today.”

“Just want to go home,” you said softly.

“Soon enough, Y/N. I promise. I’ll drive the rest of the way back, okay? You can get some rest and we’ll be home before you know it,” he assured you.

“Thank you,” you yawned once more.

“That's all that’s bothering you?” he inquired, cocking his eyebrow. “Nothing else?”

“I’m not trying to think about anything else. I just want to sleep in my own bed, and relax for awhile. I want to lay in my pyjamas all day, and not have to worry about leaving my room. I want to go braless and forgo pants.”

“All fair points. Only a few more hours until then,” he reminded you.

“Here’s your meals,” Peppy Pete interrupted, placing each plate on the table individually. “If you need anything, let me know.”

“Thank you,” you smiled at him, praying he’d leave you be until you were done. Your eyes flicked over to Dean, seeing him smiling at you. It took every ounce of strength you had left in you not to bring up the kiss. You were so wrapped up in your own head that it was killing you not to know why he did it. Better yet, why he did it and didn’t bring it up again? Why did he kiss you when he was into someone else?

You brought your burger up to your mouth, taking a good bite out of it. The flavour hit your tastebuds instantly. It had to be one of the best burgers you ever had. Just the perfect balance between everything. The cheese was melted. The tomatoes and lettuce were fresh. It was damn perfect and everything you needed in a moment like this.

“So we never really talked about what you and Sam talked about,” you brought up.

“That’s because you and Jess spent an awful lot of time together,” he teased you, throwing one of the fries in his mouth. “It was kind of awkward at first. Neither of us really knew where to start. I told him I was sorry for not keeping in contact with him as much as I should have. He told me that it wasn’t my fault. He was the one who didn’t answer my calls. He regretted not coming to Dad’s funeral. I never told him that I saw the accident, or anything like that. I didn’t want him to know that.”

“Why?” you furrowed your brows. “It might be good for him to know what you’ve been through.”

“I can’t put that on him, Y/N. It’s my burden to carry, not his. If it comes up, then obviously I’ll tell him, but I’m not going to go out of my way to tell him. I scared him enough when I told him why I called him the last time, and how I met you,” he shared.

“He thanked me for saving your life, many times,” you mentioned. “He loves you, Dean. Whether he shows it or not. He loves you and he appreciates everything you did for him growing up, more so now than he did back then.”

“He told me that too,” he nodded. “Basically we just went through it and decided to move forward. It was better to not dwell on what happened years ago with Dad and everything.”

“Good, I’m glad!” you beamed. “I know how important this trip was to you.”

You were back on the road about half an hour after you ate. Dean offered to pay for dinner this time around. This time, you didn’t fight him on it. You simply wanted to get back in the car and head home as quickly as possible.

The waiter handed him the cheque and at the bottom, he left a little note and his number. You tried your hardest not to laugh at what he said until you got out of the restaurant, but it was extremely hard. ‘Roses are red, bananas are yellow, wanna go out with a nice little fellow?’

“I can’t believe he did that,” Dean chuckled, shaking his head as he sped down the highway. “That has to be the worst pick up line in the world.”

“Tell me about it. I’m all for pick up lines but that one was terrible,” you giggled. “Totally not my type.”

“You don’t like the younger guys?” he played.

“I’m almost ten years older than that kid,” you pointed out. Dean let out another laugh.

The car filled with a comfortable silence after that. Dean turned the radio on, filling the silence with some classics. The sky was growing darker. Rain clouds rolled in, greying the sky much earlier than usual. Eventually spits of rain hit the windshield, turning into a downpour. Dean drove through it like it was nothing. He was calm behind the wheel, as he usually was. Driving was one of those things that helped him clear his head.

You glanced out the window, taking everything in as much as you could. The rain continued to fall. It was kind of comforting to drive in it, especially when you knew Dean was comfortable behind the wheel. Your mind reeled over everything as your eyes followed the lines of trees on the side of the road.

You couldn’t peel your mind away from Dean. Everything that happened the week you were away together was all soaring through your head. Skinny dipping, cuddling, the kiss. Fuck, the kiss. The whole thing was bothering you to no end. Why hadn’t he brought it up? Why hadn’t you at least talked about what it was? It was kind of significant, at least to you. You wanted it to happen again if you were being honest. You knew that you couldn’t hold back much longer. You needed to know.

“We’re almost home. Probably another half an hour,” he told you.

“Something’s bothering me,” you spoke up, your voice barely there from not talking for so long. “And I can’t hold it in any longer.”

“Okay,” he breathed out, clearing his throat. “What’s up?”

“Are we going to talk about what happened in the change room or are we going to pretend that it didn’t happen?” you questioned, not daring to look in his direction. Your eyes averted back out the window, trying not to glance over at the man to gage his reaction.

“I - I don’t know,” he said quietly. “Do we need to talk about it?”

“I don’t know. I just - I figured -” you paused, getting tongue tied about it all. Maybe that was why he hadn’t brought it up. Maybe it was one of those things that happened and it was better to leave it at that. “You know what, forget I brought it up.”

“Okay,” he breathed out.

You could always pretend it never happened. A spur of the moment kind of thing, right? A hey, I just saw my best friend naked and wanted to see if anything was there, and there wasn’t. It was better left forgotten about, not that you were going to be able to do that anytime soon. You craved more, and it wasn’t just kisses like that. Being with him for the last couple of months, a change from what you were living like for the last three years; you wanted more. You wanted to see what things would be like if you were to be in a relationship with Dean. The only person you trusted. The only person you could see yourself moving on with.

But you knew well enough, you couldn’t make someone love you the way you loved them. It wasn’t possible. You couldn’t lose Dean. You couldn’t lose the one person you had grown close to despite everything that had happened. Like he said, he’d take a bullet for you. You couldn’t ruin that.

Dean pulled into the driveway, right next to your car. He cut the engine, leaving the car in complete silence. You couldn’t have been happier to be home. The road trip was amazing, but you needed to be home in the comfort of your memory foam bed, and your own shower. You needed the freedom to have a lazy day. That was what you were doing for the rest of the weekend. You’d be lucky to see the sunlight with how tired you were feeling.

“I’ll carry your stuff in. You wanna go unlock the door?” he told you, giving you a soft smile.

“Yeah,” you nodded, kicking the car door open. The sun was just beginning to set. The front of the house had a pink and orange tinge to it, making it look even more beautiful than it already was. You hopped up the front steps, slipping your key into the lock, opening up the door.

Your house was exactly the way you left it. Everything was in its place. You took a deep breath, taking it all in once more. Home. Your home with Dean. Dean stepped in right behind you, placing your bag on the floor and his right next to it.

“Home sweet home,” you breathed out.

“That it is,” he grinned.

You kicked off your shoes, and shed your jacket off your shoulders, adding it to the coat rack. The first thing you wanted to do was grab a glass of water after going so long without something to drink. Dean followed closely behind you, most likely thinking the same thing.

You grabbed two glasses from the cupboard, handing one of them to him. He looked at you with a soft smile, one that you had seen often, especially when he was really comfortable with his surroundings; like when you were watching an episode of Dr Sexy. He poured his glass, passing it over to you before taking the other out of your hand.

“I- I don’t want to pretend it didn’t happen,” he stated, breaking the silence between the two of you. You swallowed hard, your eyes locking with his. “I don’t want to, and I don’t know what to say, you know? It - it just happened, and I couldn’t control myself for a second. I get it if you want to. Obviously you brought it up and it’s been on your mind since it happened-”

“I don’t want to forget it. I don’t think I could forget it even if I tried,” you breathed out. “I mean, I kissed you back so I’m just as much to blame for this as you are.”

“Yeah I guess you’re right,” he half smiled, looking at you with soft eyes.

“Let’s just move forward from it. It happened, it was great. New day,” you stated, nodding your head with a smile at your solution. It was the simplest thing to do. Not what you wanted, but it was easier than telling him you wanted to do it over and over again. It was a beautiful moment. One you weren’t going to forget. It was nice to be able to say that the last person you kissed wasn’t Ketch. It was the first step you needed to move forward from him. Small baby steps.

“Yeah, we can do that,” he agreed. He placed his glass on the counter, turning back to you. You downed the rest of your water, heading over to the sink to place your empty glass. You knew you had to take your bag back to your room, and empty it out to get ready to do the laundry in the morning.

“I think I’m going to turn in for the night. Long day in the car in all,” you said lowly.

“Y/N wait,” he breathed out. You turned on your heel, looking back at him. He took a step closer to you, his hands cupping your cheeks. Before you could even register what was happening, his lips were on yours, kissing you fast and hard. Your heart began to race by the time you realized what was going on. His lips were on yours for the second time, right after you said you were going to move forward from the last one. Clearly that wasn’t what he wanted. It wasn’t what you wanted either. You reached out, slipping your hands around his waist as you kissed him back. God, this kiss was better than the first.

“Dean,” you muttered against his lips. “Mmh, Dean - what are we doing?”

“Fuck sorry,” he pulled away, taking a sharp intake of air. “I shouldn’t-”

“It’s okay, I just - I want to know what’s going on,” you stammered out. “One second we’re agreeing on something, then going the opposite way the next second.”

“Sorry, I just - I got to thinking and then I wanted to again,” he shrugged. “I swear, that was it.”

“Yeah?” You cocked your eyebrow, trying to hide your smile.

“No,” he shook his head with a smile before leaning down once more. His lips meeting yours again. You couldn’t help but smile against him. He was too damn cute at that moment. He knew what he wanted, and he was going for it. “Not even close.”

“Mhh Dean, this -” you pecked his lips, “is a bad idea.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he chuckled, kissing you again. His hands slipped around your waist, pulling you in closer to him. You damn near melted against him. Being in his arms was the best place to be, but it was a million times better when you were kissing him. Maybe this meant he had some sort of feelings for you; feelings similar to yours. “This is a really-” kiss “bad idea.”

“Horrible idea,” you giggled against him, pecking his lips once more. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pushing yourself against him.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “But seeing you smile the way you are right now is hard to resist.”

“As if that’s the only reason,” you paused, bringing one of your hands behind his head. Your fingertips playing with the short hairs on the back of his neck.

“No it’s really not,” he shook his head with a laugh. “Shouldn’t have done it. Don’t wanna stop.”

“Does it look like I’m stopping you?”

With that, his lips were on yours once more. This time, with nothing holding him back. His grip on you tightened, pulling you flush against him. You were a few steps behind him, letting him have his way with you and what he wanted to do. You trusted this man more than anyone. He wasn’t going to do something to hurt you or make you uncomfortable. You were close enough now that a few kisses weren't going to ruin your friendship. That was clear enough to you now.

His hands slipped over your ass, reaching down to your thighs. He picked you up off the ground with ease, placing you on the counter behind you. He slipped between your legs, fitting perfectly as his lips moved in a slow sync with yours. You were really making out with your best friend in your kitchen. You were loving every second of it. The way his lips felt on yours. The way his hands caressed your body; not pushing you too far. This was definitely a step in the right direction. You just hoped that maybe this meant a little more to him too.

His tongue grazed your bottom lip as his grip tightened around you. You granted him access almost instantly. God, you felt like a teenager again, minus the fear of your mom walking in and finding you of course. Although, it was always a possibility with her. You were happy. You were really, really happy. It was about time that you were.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, dragging him in closer to you. Your arms tightening around him. His hands slipped down to your ass, resting them there. God, he was fucking perfect. You inched yourself forward, your centre brushing against the growing bulge in his pants. Now that was something new.

“Mhh, we should stop,” he muttered against your lips.

“Yeah?” you mumbled.

“I’m not gonna be able to hold back with you pressed against me like this,” he chuckled, pecking your lips as he spoke. He fucking wanted you, and there was nothing sexier than that. “Feels too good.”

“Take me to the bedroom then,” you whispered, your legs tightening around him. His boner trapped between your bodies. He pulled back, his eyes darker than usual. He was trying to gage your expression by the looks of it. Trying to see if you were serious, and you were. You wanted this. You wanted him more than anything.

“Y/N, are you sure?” he cocked his head. His hands trailing up your back. “Like sure sure?”

“More than sure,” you nodded.

He slipped you off the counter, his hands making their way to your thighs as he carried you from the kitchen and through the hall, heading to your room. Your heart was racing in your chest. Your lips traced along the side of his neck to keep you occupied. You didn’t miss the way his grip tightened on you, or the way his breathing grew as you left little wet spots in your wake.

Your back hit the mattress with a bounce. His body fell on top of yours, his lips back on yours. His body weight felt surprisingly good on top of you, more than you thought he would. Your lips moved in that same perfect sync with his. He was in no rush to get naked with you. It seemed like he wanted to take his time, and treat you the way he thought you deserved. Dean was one of a kind. He was the one guy you knew would treat you better than anyone ever had. That was one of the reasons why you loved the man. He was the only person you could see yourself with.

“Dean,” you breathed out, breaking the kiss. Your hands slipped beneath his flannel, shoving the material over his shoulders. He gave you a soft smile that made your heart melt just a little.

“You trying to get me naked?” he chuckled.

“It’s not like it’s the first time,” you winked playfully. “I did enjoy it the first time around.”

Dean sat back on his calves, shrugging his flannel shirt off his body, throwing it to the side. Your eyes were fixated on him. There was a part of you that couldn’t believe this was happening. That he was above you, taking off his clothes. His jeans were tight because of you. He wanted to do this with you and that on it’s own, made you feel good about yourself. He took the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it over his head to reveal his perfectly imperfect stomach. He was so fucking handsome.

“Mhhh, damn you are fucking gorgeous,” you smirked, eyeing him up and down.

“Oh stop it,” he let out a laugh. “You’re wearing far too much for my liking.”

“Then take it off me,” you played. You watched his lip curl upwards as he reached for the hem of your shirt. You sat up, raising your arms up, making it easier for him. Dean threw your shirt to the floor, joining his other two before smirking at you.

His hands made their way to his belt, quickly undoing it before unbuttoning his jeans, shoving them down his thick bowlegs in one swift movement. You smiled when you saw the bulge in his tight black boxers. That was all because of you. That was all you that did that to him.

His body came down on top of yours, capturing your lips with his in a heated, wet kiss.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, dragging him in closer to you. You craved his touch. You had your chance to feel his skin beneath your fingertips. His tongue brushed over yours as your hand carded through his hair. You dreamed of this moment. Hell, you dreamed about having him for months. His kisses were so much better. The way he felt on top of you was something you never wanted to forget. You finally felt like you belonged with someone. You slipped your other hand down the length of his back, feeling his warm muscles beneath your touch.

He pulled back a little, his breath fanning against your lips. You could feel his hardening length pressed perfectly against your heated core. “You okay so far?”

“‘M perfect,” you nodded, leaning up a little to peck his lips.

“Is this leading where I think it’s leading?” he asked.

“Is it?” you cocked your head to the side with a smirk.

“If it is, I have condoms in my room,” he told you.

“I have some in here too,” you assured him. “I’m not on birth control.”

“I know you’re not,” he nodded. “I pay attention.”

He pecked your lips once more, making you smile against him. His hand trailed down the side of your body, making the tiny hairs on the back of your neck stand up. His lips traced along your jaw, making their way to your neck. You let out a sigh of content, enjoying the pleasure that jolted through you as his tongue brushed against the skin below your ear. You let out a sigh, tilting your head to the side to grant him more access. Your eyes fluttered shut as you relished in the feeling of him.

“Dean,” you breathed out as you jutted your hips against his.

You felt him smile against your neck before he traveled lower. He peppered kisses along your collarbone, leaving tiny wet spots in his wake. He was worshipping your body, as if he was never going to get this opportunity again. Neither of you knew if this was going to last after this. You wanted more. You wanted to wake up next to him in the morning, and see that stupid happy grin on his lips. You wanted to lean over and kiss every inch of his handsome face. This was right. You were good together. You were two lost souls when you met. Two completely broken, lost souls that mended as one.

He made his way down to the valley between your breasts. His thumbs resting below the band of your bra as he made his way lower. He wasn’t about to do anything without permission. This wasn’t about him and he made it so damn obvious. He didn’t want to do something to you that you weren’t one hundred percent okay with.

“May I take this off you?” he asked quietly, looking up at you through his lashes before pressing a kiss to your navel.

“Yes,” you nodded, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. You arched your back off the bed before sitting up. He was off you in an instant, his eyes never leaving your face. He had this soft smile playing on his swollen lips. That very same smile he had when he saw you naked the first time. That same smile that he had the first time you made him smile. He leaned forward, pressing his lips against yours. His hands reached around your back, finding the band where your bra connected. The material loosened as he pulled back. His fingers ghosting along your skin as they made their way to your straps. His movements were slow, giving you enough time to stop him if you changed your mind.

The second the material was off your body, you leaned back. He reached down, palming himself through his boxers before resuming where he was. There wasn’t a single doubt in your mind that he wanted you.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” he muttered, looking up at your face once more.

“I have this pretty great guy telling me that often,” you smiled. “I’m actually starting to believe him.”

“He’s not wrong,” he smirked. “Can I?”

“Please,” you nodded. He leaned down, positioning himself where he was before. His hand carefully traced up the side of your body, coming up just below your breast once more. His hands were warm against your skin. His lips headed towards your left nipple as his hand moving up to your other breast. The second his lips wrapped around your hardening bud, you let out a tiny whimper. He was so gentle and attentive. His hand massaged the other, giving them both equal attention. You could feel yourself growing slicker with every touch. God, you wanted him.

When he was content that he had given your breasts enough attention, he made his way down your navel, leaving hot, wet kisses in his wake. You arched into him, craving more and more of him. His hands slid down your body after his kisses. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him. You never wanted him to stop.

“Still doing okay so far?” he questioned, glancing up at you once more.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “More than okay.”

“So if I was to continue. Take this incredibly sexy underwear off and get you ready for me, you’d be okay with that?” he cocked his eyebrow.

“If you want to. You don’t have to,” you reassured him.

“Trust me, I want to. I love doing it,” he stated. Hearing him say that put you at ease. Typically men just did it so they’d get some themselves. Or because you gave it to them first. Not that it happened every time of course. “Gotta say though, doesn’t surprise me that you said that.”

“Doesn’t surprise me that you put that together either,” you chuckled.

“Just lay back. Don’t be afraid to tell me what to do,” he winked at you.

His fingers curled in the waistband of your boyshorts. You arched your back once more, making it easier for him to pull them down your legs. You were thanking yourself for shaving in the shower. He tossed your panties to the side, his hands tracing up the inside of your thighs. You instinctively spread your legs a little more for him. He placed kisses along the most sensitive parts of your skin, heading straight for where you wanted him the most. You could feel the ache in your core. You wanted him so damn bad and he was going to feel just how much when he touched you. Finally, he reached his hand between your legs, his fingers brushing through your folds.

“Holy, you’re so ready for me, Y/N,” he muttered. “Can’t wait to taste you, sweetheart.” If that wasn’t the sexiest thing you had ever heard come out of that man's mouth. You could feel your cheeks heating up. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

He inched closer, his hot breath fanning against you. His eyes flicked up momentarily, meeting yours as he smirked. His tongue was on you, flattened against your center before dragging upwards to your clit. You let out a strangled moan at the new sensation. He repeated the same motion three times, each time getting slower and slower.

His arms wrapped around your thighs, pulling you down just a little. You bucked against his mouth at the close contact. He truly enjoyed lapping away at your folds, tasting you. Your eyes were clamped shut, focused purely on the feeling of him.

“Oh my god, Dean,” you cried out. A thin layer of sweat coated your body. His tongue swirled around your clit a couple of times, causing your breathing to hitch. You threw your head back, your eyes clamping shut once more. You reached down, carding your fingers through his hair, holding him in place. You could feel that coil in your abdomen growing tighter with every movement. His lips wrapped around your clit just as his middle finger pushed into your entrance. You let out a wanton moan as you bucked against him. Your body was shaking as your orgasm ripped through you. Fuck, he was so good at it. He knew exactly how to get you where you needed, and he certainly enjoyed himself as he did.

You didn’t even register him pulling away. Your chest was heaving, your eyes were shut tight. You loved every second of what he gave you. His lips trailed up your torso, heading back up to yours. His kiss was sweet, and you could taste yourself on his lips. It was definitely a lot hotter than you expected it to be.

“You have no idea how hot you are when you come undone,” he muttered, pecking your lips once more.

“You’re good at that,” you complimented him, kissing him back.

“I love doing that,” he smirked.

“Now it’s my turn,” you wiggled your eyebrows.

“You don’t have to,” he shook his head.

“I want to,” you nodded. You did. You really did want to return the favour. It wasn’t really returning it, but it gave you a chance to give him a glimpse of what he just did to you. “You wanna lay back for me?”

“Yeah,” he breathed out, rolling over to the empty side of the bed. You wanted to give him a taste of what he just did to you.

You threw your leg over his lap, straddling his erection before your lips collided with his. His hands were on you in an instant, tugging you in close to him. God, you could kiss this man for hours on end. He knew how to kiss, and keep up in a perfect sync without even trying.

Your lips traced along his jaw, feeling the soft stubble that was growing. You loved it when he didn’t shave for a couple of days and had the scruffy look. Even more so when he teased you and rubbed his face on your neck to make you laugh. He was always making you laugh.

You kissed down to his neck, nibbling down just below his ear. He let out a little sigh of content, making you smile as you continued. You never thought that you would have ended up here. You never thought that the man you picked up off the side of the road would be beneath you while you kissed his neck. This man changed everything for you.

You slowly made your way down his torso. Your hands slipping down the sides of his perfect stomach that you had loved since the second you saw it. He was a damn gorgeous looking man.

“Y/N,” he breathed out. It was like music to your ears; hearing him say your name like that. You kissed the top of the waistband of his boxers. Your body falling between his muscular bowlegs.

“Can I take these off?” You asked him. You wanted to be sure that he wanted this. That he wanted you.

“Please,” he nodded.

Your fingers curled in the waistband of his black boxers. The tiny trail of hairs was the first thing you saw as you revealed more and more. His hard length sprang free, hitting his stomach with a slap. God, if you thought he was gorgeous the first time you saw him naked; this was something. He was much bigger now that he was fully hard.

“You have to be the sexiest man in the entire world,” you told him. His lip curled upwards as he sat up. You threw his boxers to the side. His hands cupped your cheeks before he kissed you hard. You were expecting that in the slightest but it had to have been the best feeling.

“That’s because I’m with you,” he smirked.

“Oh stop it,” you giggled. “Dean, you’re handsome as hell.”

You pushed him back on his back before positioning yourself comfortably between his legs. You took his impressive cock in your hand, feeling the velvety smoothness in your palm. You could see the tip was glistening precum, and you knew that had to be because of you. You stuck your tongue out, dipping it in the slit, tasting him on your tongue; a salty sweetness that you could most definitely get used to.

“Fuck,” he muttered, throwing his head back. You smiled to yourself, knowing that you were making him feel good.

You slid your tongue down his shaft, getting him ready for you to get to the fun part. You ran over both sacs, giving them the attention they deserved without being too rough. You jerked his cock in your hand, giving him a little bit of everything, just like he did for you.

You moved up, slipping the tip in the heat of your mouth. Granted you weren’t the greatest when it came to blowjobs. You could never take them too deep in your throat without gagging. But you knew exactly how to work around that detail. Dean gathered up your hair, making a ponytail in his hands so it wasn’t in the way. Your tongue swirled around the tip, dipping into the slit every so often to taste more of what he was giving to you. Your saliva dripped down the sides of your mouth, making it easier for you to jerk what you couldn’t fit in your mouth.

You bobbed your head up and down his cock, meeting your hand each and every time. You could see he was holding back from thrusting up into your mouth, and you made a note to tell him how much you appreciated that later. You could feel him twitching on your tongue and you knew he was getting close by the way he was breathing, and the way his neck was exposed to you. He was getting a good amount of pleasure from you.

“Fuck, Y/N I need you to stop,” he cried out. You pulled off instantly, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. His chest was heaving, his hands were over his eyes. He certainly enjoyed what you did to him.

“You okay?” You questioned, looking down at him with a smile playing on your lips.

“You’re so damn good at that,” he sighed with a wide grin. He pushed himself up, his eyes meeting yours once more. “We don’t have to go any further than this.”

“I know,” you nodded, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. “I want to do this with you. I want to be with you.”

“Me too,” he breathed out. “Gotta grab a condom first.”

“Top drawer on your side,” you informed him. Dean rolled over to the side, his feet hitting the ground before he stood up. You moved up, laying down in the middle of the bed. You were actually about to have sex with him. You were actually doing this with him, the only person you had ever wanted this much. He reached for his jeans, giving you the perfect view of him naked from behind. He pulled out something from his pocket before turning towards the side table. He flicked open a lighter, bringing it down to the candle you had on the top. It was a sweet gesture that made your heart skip a beat.

He opened up the side drawer, finding the box of condoms easily. He took one out of the box, shutting the drawer before sitting down on the bed. He ripped the package with his teeth, taking the rubber out, sliding it on his length with ease. You took a deep breath, readying yourself for this.

“You’re sure you want to do this?” he asked you once more. He rolled closer to you, his hand resting on your hip. His thumb grazed over your skin, drawing soothing circles.

“More than sure, Dean,” you nodded.

“We’ll go slow,” he assured you. “Anytime you want to stop, just tell me okay?”

“Okay,” you swallowed hard. “Thank you. You want to do this?”

“Yeah, I do,” he smiled softly.

He shifted himself between your legs, and you instinctively spread them a little wider to fit his frame. He reached down, taking his cock in his hand, lining himself up with your entrance. Your eyes locked on his face as your hands reached up for him. He was much bigger than you were used to, and you knew that he was going to stretch you in ways that you hadn’t been before. The tip of his cock brushed through your folds, gathering up your slick to make it much easier for him to slip in.

He pushed the tip of his cock inside you, his hand moved up as he positioned himself above you. He caged your head between his arms. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, dragging him in closer. He slipped in slowly, filling you up and stretching you out carefully. It was an amazing feeling. His lips collided with yours, his tongue sliding along yours as he rested on top of you bottoming out. He felt perfect inside you. Two lost souls becoming one.

“You okay, pretty girl?” he asked, struggling to get his words out.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Feels really good.”

“You have no idea how good you feel,” he swallowed hard, his lip curling upwards. “‘M gonna move now, okay?”

“Please, Dean,” you whispered.

He adjusted himself once more, drawing his hips back before thrusting forward at the exact same pace. His lips were on yours, kissing you sweetly as you grew accustomed to his length. Your eyes fluttered shut as you allowed yourself to relish in the feeling of being with the man you loved. The man who saved your life.

“Shit, you feel amazing,” he muttered against your lips. His lips left yours, tracing along your jaw to head to the other side of your neck; the side he was yet to touch. One of your hands slipped into his hair, your nails scratching his head. He let out a low grunt, his pace picking up just a little.

“Dean,” you moaned, tilting your head to the side. You wrapped your legs around him, giving him a new angle to work with. You wanted to be closer to him. You wanted to feel every inch of him. It also helped you move against him with a little more ease. His cock dragged against your walls, hitting places that sent tiny waves of pleasure jolting through you. You had no idea sex felt this good when it was done like this. The right way.

“Y/N, f-fuck,” he growled. “You’re so damn perfect.”

His words hit you hard, tears pressed your eyes as they settled in. His arms snaked around your back as he rocked into you. He clung to you as if you were going to disappear beneath him. It was really starting to set in that you loved this man. You truly loved him and you knew you did because there was no other human being on the planet that made you feel the way he did. Not even the man you were supposed to marry all those months ago.

“Dean, I’m -”

“Go ahead, sweetheart,” he muttered, “right behind you.”

His thrusts picked up the pace, brushing against your sweet spot with precision. Your breathing increased as your coil grew tighter and tighter once more. You dragged him in closer, pulling him tightly against your chest. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, letting out tiny whimpers as you grew closer. You could hear his grunts in your neck, and you knew right then he was right there with you.

“Let go, Y/N,” he urged you on. “Want you.”

Your walls fluttered around him as he pushed back inside you, hitting your spot right on. Your fingers curled into his back muscles, as you constricted around him. He felt so damn amazing inside you. You cried out his name, breathed rapidly as pleasure soared through you.

“Son of a -“ he growled, bucking his hips into yours. Hearing the moans escaping passed his lips had to be the sexiest thing you had ever heard. His orgasm ripped through him, causing him to cling on tightly to you in the process.

He lay on top of you as you came down from your impeccable highs. Your fingers danced over his freckle dusted shoulders, calming him down with you. It was over now, and you didn’t regret it for a single second. He was amazing. He treated you better than anyone ever had. It was a perfect first time together.

“You okay?” He asked, his voice low and a little raspy.

“I’m good,” you nodded. “You?”

“Awesome,” he smiled softly.

“That was perfect,” you commented. “You were perfect.”

“I’m the farthest thing from perfect,” he chuckled. “But that was amazing. Better than I pictured it going.”

“You’ve pictured it?” You teased.

“Shut up,” he smirked. The tips of his ears going red as he did. “Let’s get you into bed.” He carefully withdrew himself from you, making sure the condom stayed in place as he did. He was quick in discarding it in the trash can beside the table. He got up and headed into your bathroom, flicking on the light as he did. You soon realized that this was the first time you had ever had sex with some sort of light. Granted it wasn’t a lot of light but it counted. You didn’t feel insecure with him and you knew exactly why.

He walked back in the room with a washcloth in hand. You watched as he reached down between your legs, cleaning you up before doing the same for himself. You were the first one to climb into bed, forgoing your clothes this time. You wanted that skin to skin contact with him. You wanted what you never had before.

Dean turned out the light, the only light source was coming from the candle that he had lit prior. The comforter covered up to your chest as you lay in the middle of the bed. You felt like you should say something to him, just to make sure you knew where this was going. He climbed in next to you, adjusting the covers before he blew out the candle, leaving the room in complete darkness.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Just intense, you know?”

“I know,” he breathed out. “For me too. C’mere. You shifted closer to him, your body pressed against his as you threw your arm around his waist. The warmth of his skin put you at ease. You were good enough for him, you repeated in your head. He wouldn’t have done that with you if he didn’t want you.

His hand came up to your chin, urging you to look up at him. He leaned down slowly, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips before pulling away. That was a feeling you were never going to grow tired of.

“G’night sweetheart,” he mumbled.

“Sweet dreams.”

~~~~~~~~~

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orangepeelers · 4 years

Text

it’s you

my boys go to the beach and are a little very slow on picking up hints

***

Remus awoke to a text from Sirius.

As he saw his name on the screen, excitement bloomed in his stomach and made his toes curl. He felt elated for a brief moment, before forcing himself to punch the feeling down into the recesses of his mind. He couldn’t feel that way about Sirius. He wouldn’t feel that way about Sirius. He’s just your friend, he reminded himself.

His heart didn’t really get the memo.

Remus rubbed the sleep from his eyes and glanced over at Peter’s sleeping form. The four of them were staying at the Potters’ beach house, spending the hottest days of the summer eating ice cream on the boardwalk and swimming in the ocean. He hated that despite the fact that Sirius was in the room next door with James, a text from him could still have such an effect.

He unlocked his phone to read the text, anxiety and excitement mingling in his chest. Hey Moons. I woke up a little early today. Proud of me?

Remus grinned and rolled his eyes. Sure I am Pads. Of the four of them, Remus was the only early riser, a fact which he never let them forget. He found Sirius’ gesture endearing, if a little strange. Waking up early was so out of character for him.

His legs jiggled nervously as he awaited a response. He couldn’t help but wonder whether his waking up early was for a specific reason. Running through his head in an attempt to tamp down his overactive imagination was a constant stream of shutupshutupshutupshutupshut-

Wanna go for a run on the beach?

Remus’ fingers moved of their own accord. Sure. Breakfast at 3 Broomsticks after?

Of course!! See u in like 2 seconds. Love u Moons

At the last three words, Remus’ heart did a little skip rope routine. He knew it was just Sirius being Sirius, but the words still found the nooks and crannies of his brain and filled him with warmth. They stoked the fire of false hope he had burning in his mind, like vodka on their weekly beach bonfires.

He got dressed quickly, overthinking between his choice of old t shirts before settling on one from some event his parents had organized. Taking care not to wake Peter, he crept to the door and stepped into the hall, easing it shut. Sirius was already in the living room, long hair tied up into a ponytail. Black strands framed his face, bouncing against his cheekbones as he turned to look at Remus.

He flashed the grin that Remus had pictured so many times while trying to fall asleep. “Moons! Ready for our run?”

Remus smiled back. “Shocked that you have this much energy this early.”

Sirius shrugged, still smiling. “I was just in a mood today. C’mon!”

The two walked out the door into the oppressive humidity of the east coast. The orderly streets full of pastel-colored beach houses were quiet in the early morning, the people inside still sleeping off the previous day of swimming and sunbathing. Sirius immediately stripped his shirt off, tucking it into his waistband.

“Fuck, it’s hot.”

Remus pretended to shake his head in disapproval, but his eyes were tracing the sloping lines of the other boy’s biceps, wondering how it would feel to wrap his hands around them. He swallowed the thought before also stripping his shirt. Sirius grinned cockily.

“And I thought you were judging me.”

Remus mock-bowed. “Why, never!”

They started running, following the unpopulated streets to the beach. It wasn’t too far, and when they got there the sandy plains were mostly empty except for a few people walking. A bubble of laughter and conversation surrounded them, disrupting the early morning silence. They ran along the beach, listening to the waves lap against the shore as they sun came up. By the time they got to the Three Broomsticks, they were soaked in sweat and panting hard.

Sirius pushed his hair off of his forehead and mopped the sweat with his t shirt. “Hell, I’m never waking up early again.”

Remus laughed. “Hey, what about Belgian waffles?”

Sirius considered the waffles for a moment. “Hmm... You do make a very valid point. Maybe I’ll do it once more. As a treat for you, of course.”

They laughed before slipping their shirts on and going inside. The Three Broomsticks was Remus’ favorite restaurant on the boardwalk. The inside was quaint, with blue-checked tablecloths and pictures of patrons and vintage posters lining the walls. Natural light streamed in through the big windows facing the beach as a few other early customers ate and chatted. The brunch rush hadn’t started yet, so they were able to get a table close to the big windows.

Remus studied the boy sitting across from him. His eyes were gray and studious as he read the menu, with a hint of mischievous humor, like he might order blue eggs and burst into laughter before the waiter could say anything. Dark hair fell across his face before he pushed it back, still reading through the list of pancake varieties.

Sirius glanced up before Remus could look away. “Why are you looking at me like that? Is there something in my teeth?”

Remus just smiled, hoping the flush of embarrassment would be written off as a result of their run. “Just wondering why you’re reading this more intently than anything else I’ve ever seen you look at.”

“Hey, I take my breakfast very seriously, Moons.” He pointed a finger at him, pretending to be stern. “And you should too. It’s an important part of the growing boy’s regimen.”

“Okay, okay.” Remus put his hands up in surrender. “But I know you’re just going to order what you always do.”

“I also like routine, Moons.” Sirius said, shaking his finger before returning to the menu.

A waiter walked over and introduced himself before taking their orders.

Sirius pretended to think. “I think I’ll have... Chocolate chip Belgian waffles with strawberries and whipped cream.”

Remus shook his head at him. “I’ll have the same.” See, told you so, he mouthed. Sirius just rolled his eyes and smiled.

The waiter took their menus and walked away. Sirius turned his full attention to Remus. “So, Rem. Lily tells me you have a little summer romance up your sleeve.”

Remus’ heart beat double-time. He’d confessed his crush to Lily, because he just had to tell somebody and he trusted her to keep her mouth shut. Technically, he supposed, she hadn’t told Sirius, but his legs bounced nervously like his deepest secret had been discovered.

Remus laughed awkwardly. “Well, I guess you could say that.”

Sirius cast an analytical look before sinking back into his chair. For a moment, Remus swore disappointment flickered across his face. Impossible, he reminded himself. Silence hung in the air thickly.

“Well, not quite a romance. More like useless pining.” He amended. He met Sirius’ gray eyes, and for once, they were unreadable as he studied him across the table.

“Well, I think anyone would be lucky to have you.” Sirius said sincerely. “You should tell them. Who knows? They might feel the same, and you can have an actual summer romance.”

Remus smiled, a little sadly. “Yeah. Maybe.” He studied the tablecloth intently, a heavy layer of quiet laced with tension settling over them. They each pretended to be very interested in the cloth napkins.

Sirius cleared his throat, a little awkwardly, trying to break the tension. Thankfully, their waiter arrived with two plates stacked with thick waffles and glasses of fresh, bright orange juice. The arrival of food dispersed some of the binding silence and conversation flowed again as they dug into the hot, crispy-yet-soft waffles.

They finished up their meal and paid the bill, setting out to walk back to the house. It was about nine, which was still relatively early in beach time. A few people were laying out towels and umbrellas on the beach. The sun was properly up, beating its hot rays down on the morning and dispersing the dew. Sea breeze carried the scent of salt as it ruffled their hair and scattered their laughter.

As they got onto the more quiet streets, their conversation turned, once again, to talk of summer romances.

Why does he keep bringing this up? Remus thought. The last thing he needed was a reminder that the person he wanted most in the world was unattainable. The constant thought hung about his head like vines in a jungle, and he didn’t want to see those words personified as Sirius rambled on.

“I was really hoping this summer would finally be the one where I wasn’t afraid to speak my mind.” Sirius’ clear voice led Remus back to their conversation.

A lump formed in Remus’ throat as he nodded. “Me too, honestly.”

They walked side-by-side, spilling out a little onto the lawns of the houses. Remus saw Sirius glance over, almost nervously, as he continued. “Yeah, I’ve sort of had this major crush on someone for a while. But I’ve never been able to tell them.”

Remus laughed, a little bitterly. How ironic that they were each in the same situation, yet Remus knew that Sirius could get anyone he wanted. He probably hadn’t told this mystery person because he wanted to see how long he could drag it out. Not that Sirius was cruel, but he couldn’t see any situation in which he simply couldn’t tell somebody he liked them. It just didn’t make sense.

“Well, I think you should tell them.”

“Yeah?”

Remus swallowed thickly. What matters is that he’s happy, he reminded himself. All the useless pining in the world didn’t give him a right to impede Sirius’ happiness, or decide who he dated. “Well, if you’ve liked them for a while, then either they’ve figured it out or they’re too stupid to realize. Either way it would be a push in the right direction. And, you’re Sirius fucking Black.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Remus pushed him lightly and smiled. “You know what it means, you egoistic dolt. Like you told me, anyone would be lucky to have you.”

Sirius smiled faintly, as if adding Remus’ words to a mental list. They continued walking until they were about a block from the Potters’. By now, Peter and James were probably being woken up by Mrs. Potter opening curtains and humming. Remus smiled to himself at the thought. He looked over at Sirius, who was deep in thought, brow furrowed. He wished he could see what the other boy was thinking.

All of a sudden, Sirius stopped. He grabbed Remus by the hand and pulled him so they were facing each other. Their chests were bare inches from each other, which Remus was hyper aware of as he looked down into his face. He was a few inches taller than Sirius, and being so close made that feel like a few feet. He could feel his soft breath as they looked into each other’s faces.

Sirius’ gaze was intense as he took a deep breath. He was still holding onto Remus’ hand and he gave it a subconscious squeeze, as if trying to gather confidence. They stood like that for several seconds until either of them remembered to talk.

“What-”

“Rem, I-”

They laughed a little breathlessly. Remus seriously thought that his heart would explode. All he wanted was to close the distance between them. But he restrained himself and settled for saying, “You first.”

Sirius hesitated a moment, before resolve hardened in his eyes. “It’s you.”

“What?”

“You’re the summer romance person. You’re the person I’ve liked for a while.”

Remus blinked. The words floated around his head before he was able to string them together. All he could do was stare back at Sirius, unable to believe what he was hearing. He felt like a fish gasping on a dry dock, unable to suck in air to form words. “I- um, I-”

Sirius stared back, expression alert as Remus floundered for words. Finally, he was able to peel the letters from his throat and force the sentence out. “It’s you too.”

They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, as the realization of their words settled around them like snow. Slowly, Sirius placed his hands on Remus shoulders, the around his neck, fingers tracing the muscles there gently. His hands shook Remus out of his stupor and he pulled Sirius closer, hands on his waist.

Then Sirius kissed him.

The kiss was everything a kiss should be. Deep in his stomach, Remus felt the same excitement from earlier in the morning return a hundredfold. Sirius’ mouth was soft and sweet from the waffles. They were so close, bodies pressed together despite the summer heat. He felt like a body of stars, constellations blooming on his skin wherever Sirius touched him. Adrenaline raced through his body as Sirius pulled back to look at him.

He smiled, softer than Remus had seen him before, a smile just for him. “I’d say this is my summer.”

Remus smiled back, hands intertwining behind his waist. “I’d say so too.”

#wolfstar #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #Moony #Padfoot #Sirus Black #remus x sirius #Remus Lupin #the marauders #beach au #harry potter #WOLFSTAR FLUFF #wolfstar fic #wolfstar oneshot #mlm fic

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