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lollypopsx · 3 years

Note

Hi :D Just wondering, will there be a part 2 for "I wasn't drunk, I'm pregnant" blurb??

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Read Part 1 Here

Warnings: Swearing, angst, mentions of drugs and alcohol, addiction.

——————

“Wait, what?” Harry was stunned, that as one thing that definitely hadn’t crossed his mind.

“I wasn’t drinking last night because I’m pregnant Harry! What do you think I am?! A fucking alcoholic?!” You snap angrily. You couldn’t believe he would accuse you of lying when you were being sick.

His tone had instantly softened as he tried to swallow down the lump of guilt in his throat. He’d just accused his pregnant girlfriend of lying, his regret was instant. “A-angel I...”

“Don’t Harry!” Holy shit you were furious. “I can’t believe you! I’m so mad at you right now that I don’t even want to look at you!” You shout, your fists balled up tightly as you flush the toilet and leave the bathroom.

“Woah...woah...hey” He frowns, reaching out and grabbing onto your wrist. “We need to talk about this...I’m so happy I can’t believe you’re-”

“Harry! I need space! Let me go!” You shout, you felt like a red mist was fogging your brain and you knew that you just needed some time for yourself to breath. This wasn’t how this morning was supposed to go.

“Baby I’m so sorry...come on let’s get you back to bed” he frowns, sliding his hand gently onto your stomach.

You grabbed his wrist and pushed him away, which if you weren’t so angry, you would never have done. “Don’t fucking touch me! I said...Give. Me. Space.” You clench your teeth and in that split second, Harry could see that he had royally fucked up.

Sadness and guilt flooded his eyes as you turned on your heel and stormed downstairs, grabbing your phone, jacket and car keys before he could even get another word in edgeways.

The door slammed shut behind you as the 6am morning chill hit you. “Fuck” You mutter and get into your Range Rover, flicking on the engine and straight away turning the heating up. You pulled out of your spot and through the security gates, with no plan of where you were going. You just needed your own time.

You flicked on the radio to drown out the silence “Next up on Radio 1 we have Kiwi by Harry Styles!” The presenters voice exclaimed as the first beat came on.

You tut your head and groan “Fuck off” You mutter, turning it off in seconds. Minutes later, you pulled into the car park for the deserted park. The sun was bright already and the trees were in full bloom. You took a deep breath and laid your head back.

Harry: Baby please, please come back. I’m so sorry

Harry: I’ll make it up to you I swear

Harry: Please just come home so I know you’re safe

Harry: I love you so much, both of you

Harry: I can’t believe there’s a baby inside you. I love you so much

Harry: Please tell me you’re okay

Harry: I’m so sorry. I know the way I came off was wrong, I shouldn’t have said what I said

You groan and flick your phone onto silent. Maybe you should have replied, just so he knew you were okay and safe. But you just wanted to calm down, you hated being angry at Harry, but right now, your hormones were everywhere.

It was 6am, and you didn’t want to go back just yet, you didn’t feel sad, you were just angry. You decided to bite the bullet and text Harry.

Y/N: Harry I’m fine. I just want space. I’m going shopping and I’ll be back at lunchtime.

You take a deep breath. “Silly man” You mutter as you pull your car out and drive to the nearest Tesco. You got some groceries that you knew you needed, then you headed to Starbucks before deciding to wander the high street to do some normal shopping. It was a Saturday and still early so the calmness was nice.

——————

Once it got to midday, the streets were getting busier and you honestly couldn’t really be bothered to mooch around much more. Although you had found a few nice new bits in Zara.

You took a slow drive home and pulled in to the familiar security gates. You had definitely felt much calmer than you did before, but he wasn’t off the hook just yet. You sigh softly, the keys rattling in the front door were enough for Harry to shoot up from the sofa, standing nervously.

You chucked your keys and bags onto the kitchen side and pulled off your jacket, wandering into the living room to be met with a very nervous Harry.

“Hi...You’re okay...you’re...okay right?” His hand ran through his hair as his eyes gazed down to yours.

You give him a gentle nod. “I’m okay...but you’re still not totally forgiven yet...” You mutter softly. You had noticed that the kitchen and living room had been tidied, and were pretty spotless.

“I know Angel, I just-”

“Harry...you of all people know how I feel when I’m angry and how I just need space. I wouldn’t of reacted like that and stormed out if you had of just let me have some time alone. Also, you of all people should know that I wouldn’t lie. Not even over something as silly as drinking last night...”

“Can you really blame me for having doubts?” He frowns softly, you could see a hint of pain behind his eyes.

“I’m sorry?!” You step back from him. “What the fuck Harry?!” Your arms cross over your chest, just when you thought you two were over this.

“Angel, please just listen to me...you have been clean of drinking for 8 months, and I just-”

“-What?! You were just waiting for me the relapse?!” You yell, that anger bubbling back up your chest once again.

“Y/N. Will you let me speak for one minute?” Harry huffs softly. You could see he was so desperate to speak, it looked like this conversation was paining him too. You took a deep breath and sat down on the sofa, with your elbow on your thigh and your chin in your palm. Harry paced slowly in front of you.

“I’m so proud of how far you’ve come, you’ve gone through so much to get to where you are now. And you know I’m never going anywhere, I didn’t before, I’m not now and I won’t ever leave you. No matter what happens. But you don’t remember the mornings we used to have Y/N” Harry explains softly, his eyes much softer than they were. Your throat felt dry and tight as you swallowed back the tears.

“And I don’t mean that to upset you Angel...but you would promise me you wouldn’t go out drinking, be black out drunk and come home sick, and then tell me you didn’t drink. Or you’d be sneaking into the toilet to drink because you couldn’t take it without a drink for an hour...and you’d promise me again that you hadn’t had a drop. The first three months of trying to get you fully clean, you lied the whole time baby.” He whispers softly.

You frown, turning your gaze to the floor. “Darling, this doesn’t mean I don’t trust you. I do. I really do, more than anything else. But I...I came home and you were passed out on the sofa, in last nights clothes and alcohol bottles around you. I was scared...and I know I went about it all the wrong way. I shouldn’t of shouted, I was just so scared that I’d lost you again. I just...I tried to smell your breath when you were asleep and it didn’t smell like you had been drinking, and you looked peaceful...not like you had totally blacked out...so I thought I’d wait, but I was up all night worrying. Then I heard you sick this morning and I...well I panicked and it gave me all these flashbacks...”

It was now your turn to feel guilty. You could understand exactly why Harry was feeling this way. You used to drink a lot at parties...because it made you forget how it felt to be so lonely in a crowded room. Then those parties were quite a regular occurrence when you met Harry...then came the all nighters up in the club rooms, with alcohol and drugs. One night, when Harry was working, you went out to a party, left with way too many drugs in your system and you ended up in a hospital bed. But the drugs always made you feel worse, so from then on, you ditched the drugs and continued to drink, however you’d end up drinking way more than before.

The party scenes died down when they became too much for Harry, so instead of drinking a lot throughout the night, you decided just to have a drink or two here and there throughout the day. Those one or two glasses soon turned into a bottle...then two...then three per day. Bottles full of whatever you could get you hands on. When Harry was away working during the day, you never quite noticed how much you were going through. Until the day you began hiding the empty bottles in your neighbours bins, in your wardrobes, in the garage. That’s when you realised you needed to stop this habit.

But it wasn’t just a habit. It was an addiction. It wasn’t until you were screaming at Harry while sat on the kitchen floor, slumped against the cupboards and screaming about needing just one more drink. That night, you were inconsolable, and that night, Harry made it his mission to do everything he could to help you.

“I’m sorry my angel. I never meant to upset you, I just...It never crossed my mind that you could be pregnant...” He whispers, his eyes brimmed with tears, and you could see he was trying so hard to keep it all in.

“Do you want to keep it?” Harry blurted out, your eyes locked onto his and you nodded.

“I do...” You mutter gently. “That wasn’t how I planned on telling you either...” You whisper, slowly running your thumb under his eyes.

“How did you plan on telling me?...” He whispers softly, closing his eyes and nuzzling his nose into your hands, his lips gently kissing over your fingers.

“...I think I’ll keep that a secret for next time” You whisper softly.

“Fuck...Y/N I thought you wasn’t going to come back and I just...I don’t know what I would do without you...” He mutters, kneeling down and pressing soft kisses to your belly, his fingers still locked onto yours.

“This better not be your idea of a shit proposal just because I’m pregnant Styles” You tease lightly, a small smile playing on your lips.

“Not at all. It would only ever be the best for you” He whispers. “Come here...let me apologise properly” He whispers, pulling himself and resting his hands either side of your face, his lips dancing against yours and his arms wrapping around you tightly.

His touch melted you and your lips moved in sync with him. How could you ever stay mad at him? Before you knew it, he held you bridal style and was carrying you up the stairs, his lips attached to your neck, “Harry!” You squeal.

——————

Make up sex was always the best sex. “I might have to get mad at you more often...” You mumble breathlessly, the duvet covering your bodies and a light layer of sweat glistening on your skin.

“Mmm, maybe you can just pretend next time” You smile softly, feeling his arms pull you back into his chest. His nose tickled the top of your ear, the scent of your hair was intoxicating to him. His lips pressed sweet kisses behind your ear and up your temple.

“...you’re having a baby...” He whispers, the disbelief in his voice was a confusing sound for you.

“What?...Yeah I know H...” You furrow your brows and turn round to look at him.

“You’re...having a baby. We’re having a baby...” His squinting eyes grew as his smile did. It was almost like it had finally hit him.

You couldn’t help the giggles falling from your mouth. “Have you only just realised...” You grin widely.

“I just...It didn’t sink in til now” He mutters, crashing his lips instantly upon yours. “I’m so happy” He whispers against your skin.

“You are?” You whisper softly, your eyes soft and tired.

“Always...Always happy with you.” He whispers.

“H...” You mumble softly, taking his fingers and linking yours back through them. He hummed gently as he continued to press sweet kisses against you skin, trailing them along your shoulder and through your hair. His curls were softly tickling your neck. “I never apologised...” You whisper.

“You never need to apologise-...” He interrupts, with a hint of firmness.

“I do. I overreacted too, and I didn’t help the situation” You whisper.

“I can let you off this time...blame your pregnancy hormones...” He teases sweetly.

“Haz...I wouldn’t of made it this far in life without you. A-and I-I’m so grateful...” You mumble, feeling a slow tear drip down your cheek. The tear was instantly swept away and your body pulled tight to Harry’s bare chest.

“Shhh, it’s okay...you did it baby” He whispers, rocking you slowly. “I’ll make sure our beautiful baby knows just how incredible you are...”

——————

Tag List: @harryhoney-bee - @sunandherflores - @beachwood-cafe - @damnasstyles - @awesomebooklover17 - @hazgoldenstyles - @evanjh - @harrysbracelet - @nerdypartytrashpsychic - @harryssweatcreaturee - @hibaiqbal12 - @ayeshathestyles - @michellekstyles - @rach2602 - @randomwriter1021 - @elizabethrosecresswell - @izziestyles

Part 2 Tag List: @officialfictionalwreck - @sophiaedits - @pracsstyles - @razzledazzlekitty95 - @iknowtonystark01 - @http-isabela

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tsukishimas-shortcake · 3 years

Text

Relationship Headcanons

↦ Character(s): Hakkai Shiba x fem!reader

↦ Rating/Warning: No rating though there are some light mentions of abuse (if you have read the manga you are aware of what I am talking about, I’m not going very deep into it though it literally just mentions it), mentions of anxiety attacks (no detail though), fluff, not proof read

↦ Word count: 1.8k (longer than planned, sections are bolded)

↦ Your Momo’s Receipt: Hello~ I’m post yet another TR headcanon and this was requested by the lovely @strawbub I hope this doesn’t disappoint, it did get longer than planned but I enjoyed writing it. I'll prob do a part two that's more of a scenario based on your first date or something since I didn't go into it here. Please note: for those of you who don’t know my blog is currently under construction, meaning I will not be updating my masterlist for the time being.

So how did you guys meet, well mostly because of Yuzuha,

One day in like elementary you’re walking home and you see this super pretty middle school girl just like yelling at this small group of guys

The guys end up running off just because they don’t wanna deal with her or the attention she's drawn to them

Behind her was a boy, taller than her but obviously younger. You didn’t assume they knew eachother though.

The boy and yuzuha began walking in opposite directions because one was going home while the other was going to pick up something like groceries

You’re so entranced by how she stood up to them yet she’s a girl who was far smaller and you end up catching up to her, almost stepping on her heels

You end up absent mindedly following her into the grocery store and eventually she just freezes, turns, and stare directly at you

Your eyes widen since you must’ve been staring and she just goes “may I ask why you’re following me?” And you explain how cool she was earlier. She invites you over for dinner (esp since her older brother won’t be home) and figured it’d be good for Hakkai to meet someone his age

You end up going over but Hakkai didn’t come down to eat so you never actually got to meet him, though from then on you would see Yuzuha every so often, visit every other weekend or so

But no matter how often you came over the next few months, you never once met hakkai,

That was until you both reached the end of your middle school education and we’re about to begin high school

You had gone over because you were going to borrow an old work book from Yuzuha, and when you go to knock on the door the door opens before your closed fist could hit it, instead hitting a firm chest

You blush and quickly apologize but the person in front of you doesn’t move at all, doesn’t say anything and almost looks like they drifted into space with their dead stare

You assume this is yuzuha’s older brother because you’ve also never met him and you immediately turn to walk away but Yuzuha calls over hakkai’s shoulder

“Y/N-Chan! You just got here where are you going?” This was def not yuzuha’s older brother. There’s no way she’d be that happy with him around; oh my god. Realization hit, the guy who you hit (though it was more of a tap) was hakkai.

The hakkai you had only caught a glimpse of in yuzuha’s photos, never talked to or actually seen in person despite going to the same school and living in the same neighborhood

He must hate you. That’s why he avoids you. That’s def why - is what you think

Yuzuha drags hakkai back inside and invites you in; you sit down with them in the living room and watch hakkai visibly relax now that he’s inside his house, his own space, with a pillow behind him and a blanket covering his lower half, he almost curls up into it as he continues to avoid your stare

“Hi hakkai…Kun? Im L/N Y/N” you say and you see his face dead pan once again

Yuzuha can be heard laughing from the kitchen as she comes back in.

She leans over and begins explaining that hakkai literally just freezes with any interaction between him and girls who aren’t in his family

You nod, thinking maybe it’s an anxiety thing? Which is the case with you, but only because he’s been watching you since you’ve come over (not in a creepy way) wanting to and working the courage up to talk to you

The 5th or so time you came over after that encounter he was inches away from introducing himself before the house phone rang causing everyone to kind of “wake up” in a sense

Every time since then he gets closer and closer but isn’t able to say anything; he even realizes he has a crush on you.

The way you sit when you do homework and how cute you look when you’re focused.

How your forehead scrunches up when you’re trying to figure something out and you end up just sitting back with a small huff followed by yuzuha’s signature laughter.

It’s also a huge thing that you get along with Yuzuha.

So enough with first meeting time for the confession.

He ends up confessing accidentally. He didn’t know you were coming over to begin with so he was flustered out of his mind. And how was he supposed to know you hadn’t actually fallen asleep and you could hear him over the tv

The tv was more white noise than anything and the day was hot since it was the middle of summer causing the window to be open and the sound of soft wind and small birds to drift in; this was the hot that makes you tired so you were all sprawled out of just sitting in a daze

So while resting your head on the table you’re dozing in and out but then you hear hakkai begin to speak, something he never really did around you

Now did you and hakkai text? Yes. Did it take him an hour to reply because his brain would explode when you replied to him? Yes. But was it a start to communication? Also a yes.

You hear him say your name quietly before he moved closer, you can feel his gaze on your features

“I like you” is all he says. Simple and sweet. But you sit there in shock, trying not to blush so he’ll have no idea you heard him but he can tell because your forehead scrunches

You heard him and are focused on if you should reply or not. And he knows that.

You open your eyes and just look up at him, he’s closer than expected. His hand close to yours on the floor and he reaches over and grabs it lightly. Hoping you’ll also return the gesture by holding his hand instead of leaving your hand limp inside his.

And you do, thank goodness, and Hakkai almost mentally can’t handle it.

Once you start dating it’s more so just hanging out at his house or yours; however he talks a bit more and you text a lot more. He’s gotten better at replying. It usually takes him like 15 minutes now

He’s kinda stressed about your relationship but not due to anything you or him did

He’s stressed because of the mentality his older brother gave him

Is he even allowed to be this happy?

He finally has someone thats small enough and naive enough that he can protect you; compared to constantly being protected it’s a sudden, strong, yet good change for him

He’s touch s t a r v e d

Yes Yuzuha shows affection; but he stopped accepting her hugs when he was around 8 just because he physically wasn’t able to handle it due to his bruises and such

But with you, even with his bruises and all you take care of him. Able to coax him into using medicines and toning down the physical violence (that he can control himself)

He also finds it super soothing when you lightly brush over his scars (especially those that his brother gave him), it helps him believe that scars are only physical and can fade with help

One thing that stresses him out the most is trying to hide you from his brother. Any time you leave something at the house its easy to pass it off as yuzuha's but when it comes to things like photos he has with you, he can't hang them up, show them off, or have them as his phone Lock Screen, etc. because he just really doesn't want his brother to know and target you since he'll then know that you're his weakness (aside from yuzuha as well)

Sometimes won't explain why he can't hang out and has legit pushed you out of his house before at the last minute notice of his brother coming home

Will always make sure you get home safe though, usually by having Yuzuha go with you since then she can just say you're a friend from school

Your parents love him, though they were a bit hesitant it became a "you always have a place to stay" because they learned about their family situation from you and yuzuha. So expect him to spend the night when he's too scared to deal with his brother. Same with yuzuha. (yes I know this isn't yuzuha head canons but its hard to write for him without mentioning her when they're so close)

We're talking three person sleep overs. Yuzuha and you of course share the bed and Hakkai takes some time to even set foot in your room much less sleep on a mattress that's on the floor

He has a small heart attack every time he comes into your room because he's overwhelmed with everything, he's never been so comfortable and it makes him feel restless. Like he's never and I mean n e v e r been less stressed and slept better than when he does so in your room

The smell, the colors, just being surrounded by you is something that completely changes his mood

Once showed up after he fought with his brother, tears in his eyes and clothes a bit tattered and you just pulled him to your room, and sat down with him.

You laid on your bed with him laying down onto of you, head on your chest as you rubbed his head and only said a few words "its not your fault"

He ends up crying so hard he falls asleep and gets dehydrated and you have to make him drink a bunch of water when he finally wakes up.

NSFW

super fucking careful w you

almost annoyingly so, but you're understanding

He knows that he might be taking things frustratingly slow but he knows that since you understand and know his history that you can help him get through it

Your first time you think you'll have to call it off because he's shaking so bad

"baby... are you sure it won't hurt you?" he keeps asking.

pretty sure that's the longest its ever taken him to finish because he was so anxious

despite being so slow and hesitant, late he isn't too scared to get a bit rougher

but im not talking anything crazy im talking like he's willing to pull your hair a bit or nip a bit harder at your neck.

Please never ask him to do anything like degrade you or some type of harsh physical rough shit, he can't

like literally im 99% sure that if you ask him to choke you or something he will pass out because of the anxiety attack he would have at even the thought.

in short with nsfw though he is sweet boy. He's a switch through and through. Loves when you take care of everything because then he doesn't have to be scared of hurting you.

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waitimcomingtoo · 3 years

Text

touch

chapter three: contact

pairing: Peter Parker x reader

synopsis: you love him, but you can never touch him

Series Masterlist and Regular Masterlist

Peter found you brushing your teeth in the bathroom that connected your rooms. He wordlessly got out his toothbrush and starting brushing his own teeth at the other sink. You looked at him in the mirror before spitting and drying you face. As you were putting your toothpaste back in the drawer, you accidentally closed it on your finger.

“Ouch.” You jumped as you yanked your finger back, inspecting it for broken skin. It wasn’t injured, just throbbing. You looked at Peter out of the corner of your eye before touching his arm with the throbbing finger and sending the pain into him.

“Ow.” Peter jumped a little and looked at you in confusion.

“I thought you wanted me to touch you.” You replied sarcastically to prove a point.

“Is this a joke to you?” Peter asked bitterly as he glared at you.

“Joking is the only way I can deal with this.” You answered honestly.

“We don’t have to deal with this. We could just be together.” He said solemnly as he put his toothbrush away. You looked at Peter in the mirror and sighed sadly.

“It’s too big of a risk, Peter.” You frowned. “I love you too much to put you through that.”

“And I love you too much to accept this ending.” He stated as he turned to look at you.

“You think I want this?” You laughed sadly as you stepped up to him. “You think I don’t want to kiss you whenever I want? Or hold your hand? I want all of that. But I can’t have it. I can’t risk it.”

“So because you might hurt me, we can’t be together?” He asked. “It’s not like you ever hurt me before.”

“But I’ve hurt other people before.” You said gravely, coming as a surprise to Peter.

“What are you talking about?” Peter asked as he saw a sadness cloud your eyes. You looked down for a minute and sighed before shrugging and folding your arms.

“I had a best friend when I was younger. We were just like you and I. We spent every day together but I didn’t touch her because of what I could do. I was so careful.” Your voice cracked as you shook your head. “I tried so hard to keep her safe.”

“What happened?” Peter began to worry when he saw how worked up you were getting.

“She had a peanut allergy that I didn’t know about. I ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich that she didn’t know about. She ran up to me at recess and hugged me and-“ You sucked in a breath as tears streamed down your face. Peter looked at you with sympathy and put his hand as close to yours as he could without touching it.

“She died, Peter.” You whispered. “I killed her.”

“You didn’t know.” Peter tried to comfort you.

“Exactly.” You cried. “But I do now, and I can never make that mistake again.”

All at once, Peter understood why you were so hellbent on not touching. You were traumatized, and you didn’t want to repeat history. Peter took a step towards you and hovered over you, giving you the impression he was going to kiss you.

“Peter, don’t.” You said softly.

“I’m not gonna touch you.” He said. “I just want to tell you that I understand.”

“You do?” You asked hopefully.

“I hate it.” Peter admitted. “I hate that it has to be this way. But I understand.”

You stared at him for a moment before smilingly softly in appreciation. You picked up piece of paper off the counter and kissed it before tucking it into Peter’s pajama pocket.

“Thank you.” You whispered. “Thank you for understanding.”

“I’m sorry I’ve been so cold to you, peaches. You didn’t deserve that.” Peter apologized as he held his hand over his pocket.

“It’s okay. I can’t blame you for reacting the way you did. I was hurting too.”

“So do we just go back to being friends? Friends who are in love?” Peter laughed sadly.

“Unless you want to be in a relationship where we never touch each other.” You laughed, equally as sad. Peter chuckled softly before making a face.

“I mean…” He looked at you shyly and shrugged a little.

“You’d actually want to do that?” You asked curiously.

“I would.” He confirmed. “I’d rather be limited with you than unlimited with anyone else.”

“Okay.” You nodded eagerly. “Okay, let’s do it.”

Peter sighed in relief and leaned down, lips almost touching yours but not quite.

“I love you, peaches.” He whispered, lips grazing yours as he spoke. You sucked in a sharp breath, inhaling him and his scent.

“I love you too, Peter.”

Peter was working on mission plans for Tony the following week when he got a text from you.

“Meet me in the lab.”

His eyebrows knit in a straight line as he set his pen down. He quickly made his way to the lab and found you inside, holding something behind your back.

“Hey.” Peter smiled at you as he walked into the lab.

“Hey.” You smiled back. “I um, I made something. Well, actually, Dr. Banner made most of it but I gave him the idea.”

“What is it?” Peter wondered as you took a small, silver device out from behind your back.

“Its um, it’s a stun ray.” You laughed nervously. “It stuns you and temporarily takes away your powers.”

“What are you planning on doing with it?” Peter asked curiously. You picked up the gun, shrugged, and shot yourself in the chest. Peter immediately rushed to you to see if you were hurt.

“Are you okay?” He asked once he got to you.

“Uh huh.” You said through a smile before pulling him into a kiss. Peter’s eyes widened before fluttering shut as his arms enclosed around your body. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he wrapped his around your torso, kissing you with everything he had. You ran your fingers through his hair before letting them rest on his face, kissing him deeply to make up for all the time you had lost. Peter only pulled away when he couldn’t breathe, resting his forehead against yours as he panted. Tears of joy slipped down his cheeks, making him take your face in his hands and kiss your forehead.

“Does it last forever?” He whispered as he pressed his forehead against yours, keeping his arms securely around your waist.

“20 minutes.” You said as you rubbed his chest. Peter nodded before leaning down and kissing you again, just as passionately as before. He pulled away suddenly and held you back from him.

“Wait. As much as I want to kiss you, and I do, I really just wanna…” Unable to find the words to say, Peter trailed off and pulled you into a hug. He held you tightly and rested his chin on the top of your head, swaying softly back and forth as he rubbed your back. You wrapped your arms around his torso and pressed your face into his chest, taking in his scent in a way you never could before. You felt so close to him that you could cry, griping his shirt to pull him even tighter.

“I love you, Peter.” You mumbled in his ear.

“I love you too, Peaches.” He said back before pulling out of the hug. “Hold my hand, please.”

He held up his hand in the way he did that one day in the kitchen and this time, you interlocked your fingers with his. He held up his other hand and you did the same, hands clasped tightly around each other’s.

“This is nice.” Peter laughed softly. “I’ve always wanted to do this with you.”

“I know.” You nodded. “I wanted this too.”

“You’re so beautiful.” Peter sighed as he took your face between his hands again and rubbed your cheeks with his thumbs. He let his hands trail down your arms before taking your hands in his and kissing your knuckles. “Beautiful, beautiful Angel.”

You smiled with joy as your touched his face, memorizing the features under your fingertips.

“Your skin is so smooth. And your hair.” You gushed as you have it a tug. “So soft.”

“I’m glad you like it.” Peter chuckled, leaning in to your touch the way he always wanted and placing a kiss on your palm.

“I love it.” You told him as your carded your fingers through his curls.

“How often can we do this?” Peter asked as he drummed his fingers on your waist. “How often can you use the stun gun?”

“Dr. Banner said it’s only safe to use once a day.” You frowned slightly, but Peter lit up in a smile.

“I get to touch you everyday?” He asked hopefully as he took your hands in his.

“For 20 minutes, yeah.” You nodded, smiling as well now.

“I’ll take whatever I can get.” Peter sighed happily before kissing you again. “How much longer do we have?”

“Seven minutes.” You told him as you checked your phone.

“Dance with me?” He requested as he assumed waltzing position. You smiled softly and nodded as you began to sway back and forth to music that wasn’t playing. Peter rested his head on your shoulder after a minute as you wrapped your arms around his neck in a slow dance.

“I like this dance much better than the one we used to do.” You mumbled against his neck before placing a kiss there.

“I know, Peaches.” Peter sighed in content. “Me too.”

Tag List 🏷

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#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #iron man #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #peter parker x avenger!reader

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mjlovescm · 3 years

Text

6 - You taste like strawberries

Completed, 26 chapters, “So, you’re the babysitter, huh ?” Rodrick Heffley x black fem reader

Content/trigger warning : smoking/ drug mention

After delivering the food, Rodrick drove you home. The entire ride, Rodrick couldn't stop making plans for what to do with the “Illegal substance”. You tuned him out listening to music and prayed to be in your bed sleeping or at least eating, Rodrick still hadn't fed you. When you got out the car, Rodrick followed behind you.

“Why are you following me now ?”

“Relax pothead, I'm just making sure you get in safe. I can't blackmail you if you're dead.”

You shushed him while putting a finger over your mouth.

“Just go home, you've wasted enough of my day and took my blunt.”

You started to open the door with your key, when it flung open. Your mom was standing at the door waiting for you.

“Oh, Rodrick hi.”

“Hi Ms./l/n, how was your day ?”

“Just great, but someone has been ignoring my call and giving me chest palpitations.”

“Sorry mom I -” You spoke before Rodrick threw his arm over your shoulders

“Sorry, Me and y/n were delivering food all day. It's the only way I make money besides asking my parents and y/n wanted to come along for future reference.” His voice was fakely apologetic.

“Future references as in for jobs.”

Rodrick pinched your arm to get you to play along.

“Yes, you did want me to look for a new job to start saving for the future.”

“Well that's nice, since you both have been out all day you must be hungry. I have burgers and fries inside and were playing a movie, Rodrick. Why don't you come in?”

You looked at slightly, shaking your head. By now he came in and ate. While everyone was eating and watching the movie, Rodrick sat next to you, putting an arm around your waist.

“It seems like your mom likes me, huh ?” He whispered into your ear.

You didn't react, you wanted him to think you hated this moment, but in your mind you were screaming. His hand on your waist, whispering in your ear in front of your family, and he didn't care one bit. After the movie was done Rodrick left, and you returned to your room and slept.

You woke up later and realized your closet and room was a mess. You decided to go back and start rearranging again. You turned the led lights one and blasted music again, your mom wasn't home and the rest of your family were heavy sleepers. As you were shuffling through music, you got a text from Rodrick.

*This fucking kid again*

“𝚐𝚕𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚔𝚎, 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎” -𝚛

“𝚠𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚞𝚑” -𝚢/𝚗

In reply, he sent the picture from the van with a smiley face.

“𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝟷𝟻 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚜.” -𝚢/𝚗

“𝟷0”-𝚛

You changed out of your pajamas and wore an all black outfit. The last thing you needed was to be seen with Rodrick this late. Thankfully, the alarm system has been set up, so sneaking in and out was easier than usual.

“Wow, you had three minutes to spare.”

“Listen loser. Why am I here, don't you think it's too late to be delivering food.”

“Says the one who orders food at 3 am.”

You stayed quiet as Rodrick drove to his house. Rodrick managed to sneak you into his room while his family was sleeping. His room was much cleaner than you remembered.

“Did you really clean your room for me?”

“Nice try, I cleaned my room for this.“” He said, holding up a small blow torch.

“Why the fuck do you have that.””

“We're gonna smoke, duh.”

*he's a pyromaniac isn't he*

After thirty minutes of smoking at his window, you and Rodrick were spent. He was staring at the psychedelic posters in his room, and you were sitting at the window listening to music. Very much the main character vibes.

Rodrick sat across from you, looking you up and down.

“You wanna finish it ?” You said, handing him the blunt.

“Yea uh sure.”

You watched as he took a slow inhale, holding the smoke in his lungs. He leaned into you, gently holding your face. Your eyes widened in shock.

“Are you gonna kiss me ? “ You nervously asked.

“Only if you want me too.” He replied, still holding the smoke.

You froze, unable to speak because if you did your voice would ruin the moment. Slowly you shock your head up and down, giving him consent.

“Good.” He whispered.

You both leaned in, pressing your lips together. The warm feeling of smoke escaping your lips only made the moment better. Slowly he pulled away, opening his eyes and letting go of your face. As he sat back, the rest of the smoke left his mouth. You sat in silence as the smoke let your mouth trying to recollect yourself.

“Why do you taste like strawberries.” He asked, licking and biting his bottom lip.

“It’s um, my lip gloss.” You replied nervously.

He laughed at your reply, making you smile.

Next chapter ;)

All chapters :)

#black fem reader #mjlovescm #rodrick x reader #diary of a wimpy kid #rodrick heffley

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burytherosemarysprigs · 3 years

Text

Oral Sadism and Literary Arguments

A/N : Ok, so, like enemies to lovers???? slow burn??? literature??? fuck me.

/ Masterlist /

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader (College AU)

Word Count: 6k

Summary: There’s probably only one thing worse than chauvinist literature, and that’s the sardonic boy who sits two rows behind in Lit class with his torn paperbacks and ineffable aversion.

“Well, I actually disagree with you,”

If you didn’t have that much self-control, you would’ve snapped the pencil you were holding in half, as you heard a deep voice speak up behind you, and before you could retort, Professor Gordon spoke,

“And why’s that Jason?”

“I think Bukowski was trying to present how men will hide their inner thoughts and feelings, really their sensitivity in that aggression as an attempt at protection.” Jason spoke up, his voice boiling your blood as the rest of the class stayed in relative silence, as you turned around to look at him as he stared directly at you,

“I’m sorry, protection? What part about misogyny and blatant objectification of women as only being sexual objects that can be discarded and picked up when he pleases passes as protection? Women that are empty and uncharacterised to the extent the reader begins to agree with Chinaski that yes, women are less. Women are not important. And women don’t require compassion and consent, what part of any of this reminds you about goddamn male – “

“All right, I think that’s enough for today.” Gordon interrupted your heated rant with a sigh, which you share and quickly turn around close your eyes to try and avoid the weight of Jason’s stare as Gordon begins to dismiss the class.

“All right everyone, I hope you took something useful from that discussion, though I’m not sure if you would classify that as a discussion,” He added sarcastically, before continuing, “I expect you all to have brief outlines planned out for next week, and please try to work as collaboratively as you can with your partner to do so.”

The last part was directed at you and Jason – though neither of you payed proper attention – while the rest of the class let out small snickers.

“Right then, class dismissed, and uh, you two, could you both please stay behind for a minute.”

Fucking great. You thought to yourself, even though Gordon didn’t specify both you and Jason, his tired expression tells you otherwise and you start collecting your notes and pens into your bag in a silent fury and made your way to the front of the class, where Gordon was leaning against his oak desk, watching both of you stand in front of him – not casting a single glance towards the other as you waited for him to speak. He sighs,

“I don’t think you both understand how frustrating it is when your top students both have it out for each other and can’t hold a single civil discussion before arguing like little children,” He begins, becoming more wary as he continues, “Which is why I paired you up for this assignment and I fully expect you both to work together, and I hope I can expect that from you?”

He looked at both of you with an expectant look, and Jason only nodded curtly as a response, and you did the same but decided to chirp in,

“That’s great that you think we’ll be able to work together, sir, but on a totally unrelated note, how would my grade be impacted if my partner was suddenly mauled by a car over the weekend and was unable to complete the project with me?” You spoke, voice deadpanning, as your professor barely restrained in a smile while Jason looked at you with an empty expression.

“I would say that would be a fail as you missed the premises of ‘working with a partner’, as well as some serious legal consequences.” He replied, somehow maintaining a serious look as he spoke.

“That’s great to know sir.” You spoke, nodding along before he dismisses you both, leading you to quickly walk out of the classroom, breathing out a sigh of relief as you see Barbara leaning against the wall, busy on her phone, waiting for you to come out.

“What took you so long,” She asks as soon as she hears your sigh, pocketing her phone, and linking her arm with yours,

“I swear to God, one day, I might as well skin him – “

“Look, if I had known before that you could be so dramatic, I would’ve told you to choose drama as your major.”

“Ha. So funny. It’s just – fuck him.” You say the last part under your breath as you turned around to see nobody in the empty hallway.

“You two are really something else.” She states, making you roll your eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s supposed to mean that you and Jason are really annoying. And petty.”

“Well, he’s the one that needs to contradict and compete against every single fucking thing I say, every single fucking time! It’s really fucking annoying,” Barbara only rolls her eyes in amusement. “And Gordon paired us up together for this project, and, God, I just can’t do anything with him without wanting to punch him in his stupid face.”

“I know, and that’s exactly why Gordon paired you both up, he really likes you both and he wants you both to stop having this weird rivalry between each other.”

“Wait. You knew?”

“Well yeah. I’m his daughter.”

“Well, why didn’t you tell me then?”

“Because I like seeing you suffer.”

“You know, you’re a terrible friend.”

“Thank you,” She replies, with a small laugh, before she links her arm with yours again and whips out her phone to frantically shoot another text as she lets out a deep sigh. “Where is Steph? She took my car this morning and said she’d pick us up.”

“You let her drive your Bentley?” You ask, surprised she would give Stephanie one of her most prized possessions.

“Yeah, I know,” She spoke, absorbed in her phone, “But, she promised me that she would keep it safe, and we all know that I will kill her if something happens to it.”

“I do.” You reply, a small laugh escaping your lips before a blue Bentley pulled up in front of you both, causing Barbara to quickly pull open the door and shuffle inside, leaving you to chuckle to yourself before making your way to the back seat of the car, the blaring music making you wince as you enter the car but Babs quickly turns it off as both of you settle in.

“See! Your car is perfectly fine, just like I told you it would be!” Steph smugly announced, her blonde curls bouncing wildly as Barbara stared at her unimpressed, before both of them fall into their routine bickering as, this time, Babs begins to criticise her driving and apparent ‘mishandling of the most precious thing to me’, while you only roll your eyes at their antics before pulling out your phone to scroll through the messages you’ve missed throughout the day.

“Hey,” Steph’s voice shakes you out of your thoughts as you meet her eyes through the rear-view mirror, “What’s up with you today?”, her seemingly innocent question provokes a snicker from Babs – to which she receives a smack on the shoulder from you.

“What?” Steph inquires further.

“Nothing, why don’t you ask miss ‘I-fucking-hate-Jason-Todd’ here.”

“Fuck off, Barbara.” You grit out, glaring at her through the rear-view mirror.

“God, both you and Jason actually act like children,” Stephanie chimes in, “You’re both almost the same but you both compete against each other against every little thing – “.

“Are we done talking about Todd?” You retort, ignoring Steph’s comment, “I have better things to do than think about him.”

“Mhmm, sure.” Barbara winks at you and it takes a lot for you not to launch at her right there, in the car but Steph draws your attention away by babbling about some boy she met in her criminology class and the conversation in the car gradually fizzles out, until Steph asks,

“You guys heard about the party this weekend, right,” A matching ‘yes’ from you and Babs prompts her to continue, “Well, you’re going then, right?”

“I don’t know, but why’re you so pressed about it?” Bars questions, with a raised eyebrow.

“No reason, I’m just curious.”

“It’s Tim, isn’t it?” This time, you pipe in, and Steph almost yells,

“No. No, it’s not!”

“Oh my god. Of course it is.” Babs laugh echoes with yours as you eye Steph in the rear-view mirror, to see a blush dusting her cheeks as she quiets down.

“Whatever, are you coming or not.”

“After this conversation, yeah I am.”

“God. I hate you both.”

Standing in the corner of the party, nursing a red solo cup of something that burns your throat when you drink it, you regret not saying anything in the car against attending this party.

You’re currently standing alone, both Steph and Babs have completely disappeared into crowd, as Dick had shown up and quickly whisked her away as soon as you all entered the apartment, whereas Steph has promised to get you a drink about twenty minutes ago but never came back and as you try to block out the reverberating EDM music blasting through the room, you make your way towards the kitchen to re-fill your cup (the one that you went and got yourself), before something catches your attention in the peripheral vision.

It’s a wispy haired girl, her eyes smudged with mascara, backed against the wall of the kitchen – away from the main crowd, you could pick from her body language a sense of uncomfortability as she was drunkenly shaking her head at a man who towered in front of her, making you stop in your tracks to watch the scene unfold right in front of you, before quickly changing your course towards their direction, already knowing the identity of the man in front of the girl, without seeing his face.

“Hey, Cyrus, get the fuck away from her!”

As soon as you reach them, and the words leave your mouth, another raucous voice speaks at the same time as you.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Cyrus and the girl in front of him stop at their hushed conversation, to look away from each other and face you both while you also look at Jason – with a shocked expression – standing next to you and before you can say anything, Cyrus lets go of his hold on the girl before turning to glare at you.

“I don’t see how any of this is any of your business?”

You restrain yourself from physically hurling at him and fist your hands at your sides before looking at him with an unimpressed look.

“I don’t see how any of this is your business either, Beck? Thought daddy said that he’ll pull you out of school if he had to deal with your stupid behaviour again, or did you forget about it?”

“I swear to god – “

He tries to step closer to you but Jason steps in front of you before he can do anything else, and mutters,

“How about you fucking walk away before something worse happens?”

Beck shrugs of Jason’s hold on him before walking away and pointing a finger at you.

“You’re such a fucking bitch, you know that?”

“Should’ve said that to your daddy when he said I was best fucking person he’s ever met.”

He looks at you wildly and is about to retort before one of his friends pulls his attention to a game of beer-pong happening in another corner of the party and the whole scene stops for a second. You watch with a held breath as within a fraction of a second, a cocky smile overtakes his face and his shoulders relax as he runs his hands through his dark hair, leaving with his friend and you quickly turn around to see the girl, still standing there, her arms wrapped around her body and a shocked expression on her face.

It takes you a second, but you manage to gently coax her to the hallway outside the apartment and Jason (unbeknownst to you) follows in your footsteps.

“Do you want me to call you a cab, or can I drop you off?”

She shakes her head and is about to say something before Jason interjects,

“I can take her home.”

Both you and the girl turn around and stare at him and you quickly shake your head, diverting your gaze away from him,

“It’s fine Todd, I’ve got this.”

He sighs.

“Will you just let me help her?”

“Well, I’ve already told you that I’ve got this under control, so I don’t see why you’re being so – “

“Oh - uh, you don’t have to worry about me, I can uh – go home myself.”

“No. I – uh mean, let us take you home just to make sure that everything will be okay.”

A meek smile overtakes her face as you squeeze her hand lightly and you offer a half-smile in return.

“Us?” Jason’s voice perks up and you turn around,

“Well, I don’t have a car. If you want, I can come with you and drop her off at her place but – “

“Yeah, sure. Come on.”

His voice is clipped as he moves past you both, turning around the end of the hallway, leading you both to quickly follow him as well.

“Wait. I never asked you for your name.” You gently rest place your hand on her shoulder, making her stop and quietly giving her name,

“It’s Anna.”

...

By the time you’ve left Anna’s apartment complex, the small talk in the car dwindles down as you both sit, unnerved in the dimmed light of the car, the silence suffocatingly awkward. It doesn’t change until he pulls up to the curb, facing the entrance to your apartment building.

“Thanks.”

It’s quiet enough that you didn’t expect that he’d actually hear you. Let alone, grab your wrist before you leave, an incredulous expression on his shadowy face.

“Thanks? That’s it. You’re not going to say anything about what’s just happened?”

“Well, what the fuck do you want me to say.”

“I don’t know.”

“Well neither do I. Look. Thanks for dropping me off and Anna. That’s it. I don’t have anything else to say to you.”

He doesn’t say anything and let’s go of his hold on your wrist before you quickly slip out of the car, not realising the force at which you push, slams the door shut, making you internally wince. But in your peripheral vision, you can see he doesn’t look at you, with his face staring forward and grip tight on the wheel.

His car’s gone further and turned the corner before you’ve even made it to the entrance doors, and you breath in the cold October air, letting the wind whip across your bare skin, goosebumps rising while standing in a pathetically insulating satin dress, your thoughts pummeling through your mind without fully understanding them and you sigh again.

“What did you say to him after that?”

“Babs, I’m already – “

You stop midway through your hushed conversation with Barbara to see a disheveled Jason noisily weave his way through the shelves, towards the table at the back of the library you had occupied with Barbara.

“Sorry, I – “

“If you weren’t really going to care about this assignment, you should’ve said something before showing up thirty minutes late.” You deadpan, voice steely and brows furrowed.

“Will you fucking listen to me?” he breathlessly cuts you off from saying anything else as he drops his books on the table.

“I’ll head out now.” Barbara mutters to you, squeezing your arm and slinging her bag over her shoulder before quietly slipping out of sight. You rested your chin in your propped arm, waiting for Jason to continue,

“Well, what’s your excuse?”

“I don’t have an excuse. I was caught up in call with my father, it ended up being longer than I expected.”

You stare at him for a moment, his eyebrows also furrowed and hair sticking in all directions as he breathes heavily.

“Whatever, just complete the outline of notes I made for you.” You replied, pushing pieces of sticky notes and highlighted papers, that you had been picking at for the past half hour, towards his direction.

In about fifteen minutes, you’re both working in relative silence apart from the occasional remarks on the thesis and clarification on handwritings. There’s also been the perpetual looks on Jason’s part, and regardless of how much you try to block them, it itches at you to confront him about his irritating tendency.

“What Jason? What do you want now?”

His expression is firstly, taken aback, and then he coughs before asking,

“Did you ever talk to the girl after the party?”

You nod slowly, eyes still trained on the table, curving letters on colour-coded sticky notes before replying,

“Yeah, Stephanie’s their R.A, so I went and checked up on them the day after the party, she’s doing fine.”

You think that’s the end of his curiosity, but the pit of anxiety in your stomach and his next question, makes you internally want to bang your head against the alder wood table.

“And, uh, what about Beck?

Now, you stop writing with your pen and look up at him instead, resting your chin on your propped hand again, with a bored expression splayed on your face to try and detract from the internal anxiety, for both yourself and him.

“What about him?”

He doesn’t say anything at first and for a moment you think he might snap like he did in the car a few nights ago, but he only closes his eyes in frustration as you cock your head to one side.

“If you’re wondering if he’s going to face consequences for what he does – then no.”

There’s no verbal response except for a quizzical expression and you almost roll your eyes at him.

“I swear to God Jason, do you live under a fucking rock?”

“I just – look if you’re gonna be a bitch about it, then fucking leave it.”

“Maybe if you’d like to stop yelling in the goddamn library, I can fucking say something.” You almost hiss at him, voice seething as you both glare at each other.

“Anyways, you probably know that Beck’s the son of the headmaster, yeah, yeah, anyways, he’s always been a fucking creep around parties, but he’s never like you know, ever gotten that far.”

Jason raises an eyebrow at your hushed whispers.

“Like, he just trails around parties looking to either fight someone or just annoy them the fuck out but usually someone stops him before he can do something worse. But, still doesn’t mean that he isn’t a fucking asshole anyways – and his dad and him have like the worst fucking relationship ever, he’s threatened to pull him out a bunch of times of school because he’s so shit.”

You lower your voice even further at the last past, that you’re not sure if he can even hear you.

“How do you know all this?”

You shake your head and trail your eyes back to the unfinished notes in front of you.

“That’s unimportant. He’s a whiny trust-fund brat and I don’t know why someone hasn’t punched him yet.”

That silences Jason for a moment. And the moment doesn’t last long before your phone’s alarm blares through the silence of the library and you quickly move to silence it and Jason eyes question you but you don’t respond, instead move to disorderly throw all the pens and highlighters into your bag and grab as many papers you could in one go before quickly whispering,

“I’ve gotta go.”

“Wait – “

“Look. I promised I’d help a friend out with something. I’ll let you know when I’m free again.”

Jason doesn’t have a chance to say anything else before you’ve flitted through the haze of bookshelves out of view.

“What happened to the guy your dad set you up with?”

“Darian?”

Babs doesn’t look up from her place on the vanity table as she touches up her makeup while you’re sat on the table with a plastic fork prodding the edges of one of the Halloween themed chocolate cakes Babs attempted to bake for the party.

“Yeah, the one with the hair, right?”

“The hair?”

She casts a pointed look at you through the mirror, but you only take in another forkful of chocolate icing before answering,

“Yeah, he had like the most voluminous hair I’ve ever fucking seen.”

“Really? Well he had the most boring personality that I’ve ever fucking seen.”

She barely contains a smile at your comment while her own snarky comment elicits a snort from you but before you can say anything else, the frantic clicking of Stephanie’s (beloved) d’orsay heels against the linoleum floor followed by her quickly making her way into the dimly lit bedroom causes the room to fall into silence.

“You’re not ready yet?”

Her voice holds an accusatory tone and Babs quickly scoffs,

“I’m trying. But somebody keeps distracting me by asking unimportant questions.”

“Excuse me. I’m trying to be a good friend and keep up with my friend’s life.”

“Please. It sounds more like you want to know more about Darian.”

Before you can retort to her statement, Steph’s voice cuts in,

“Darian? Who’s that?”

“A guy I went on a date with a while ago.” Babs replies with a roll of her eyes, pulling out a scarlet lipstick tube from her make-up bag.

“ – That your dad set you up with.” You finish for her and Stephanie laughs.

“Since when is Professor Gordon a dating guru?”

“Since fucking never,” Babs replies, this time, twisting the cap of her lipstick. “It was just some guy in the forensic unit that he probably felt bad for being single and alone, but he shouldn’t have, ‘cause he didn’t have a fucking personality even if he tried.”

“Well that sucks. Anyways, are you both ready?” She pulls out her phone out of the bag she’d brought and starts typing.

“Or, you know, at least tried to be ready?” This time, she eyes you pointedly and you let out a noise of protest while stuffing another forkful of chocolate cake in your mouth.

“I’m sorry not all of us have devoted our whole fucking lives curating every Halloween costume known to man!”

This was something you’d noticed since you’d come back to Gotham and had been forced to attend Halloween parties – nearly everyone you’d encountered was practically obsessed with the celebration – and one of those people was Barbara. So much so, that every year she held a Halloween party and planned it more profusely than you’ve ever seen her do anything else. Her love also came with a heightened scrutiny for your enthusiasm – or lack thereof – for the holiday.

Which was why you were currently sat, dressed in a black boat neck dress with a flimsy witch hat resting on your head as you decimated one of Babs’ rejected Halloween cakes – yet the worst part was that it was currently early December (midterms being pushed back made it impossible to have it in October) and the last thing you’d wanted was to attend this party but Babs had personally threatened to drag you there to complete her and Steph’s wish of doing a group costume.

“It’s only you, you know.” Steph retorts, head cocking to one side and blonde curls hanging over her shoulder, “Now, let’s go, let’s go!”

About three hours later, you’ve found yourself nursing a cup of cheap bar (the number, you’re pretty sure that you’ve lost count of), eyeing a clique of literature students, who are currently in the midst of an argument while you stand in the corner of the room, trying to avoid them recognizing you out of their peripheral vision.

“What’re you doing?”

“What the – “ You quickly turn around to see a tall figure dressed in black staring down at you quizzically, and then you realize that it’s Jason Todd.

“Todd, what the fuck do you want.” You hiss – not at all in the mindset to have a conversation with him at the moment – while trying to remain quiet enough so that you don’t attract any unwanted attention.

“I should be asking you,” He taunts back. “You’re the one sulking around the party and hiding in places.”

You don’t try to reply to his response but offer another front of argument that throws all sensibility of your previous claim of not wanting to fight Jason out of the window.

“I don’t fucking understand, why can’t you just leave me alone?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I’m just trying to talk to you and you’re blocking everyone’s way.”

“Well, I’m not moving. So, they can find another way.”

“Are you fucking serious,” His voice raises. “You’re actually acting like a – “

“Shut up. Will you.” You hiss, pushing both of you further into the corner, so the bi-fold doors hide you better from the view of the group.

“What are you – “

“Morgan and his stupid friends keep trying to argue with me about some shit literature and won’t leave me alone.”

“Why?” There’s an edge to his voice which you pretend not to hear by avoiding his eyes.

“Beats me.”

He falters at the hostility of the comment – or lack thereof and you don’t say anything else but instead move to carefully peer pass the maple doors to scan for the group you’ve been avoiding amongst the mass of people in the room and as soon as you can’t see them you quickly move past Jason, to the to the cantilever staircase, without registering Jason’s footsteps trailing behind yours until you’ve reached the top and the overwhelming music and yelling from the party subdues a little and you let out a breath of relief before you see Jason also reaching the top of the stairs.

“Are you fucking following me?”

“No. Barbara and Stephanie were looking around for you and I was helping them.”

That lessens your anger a little and then confusion settles.

“Why?”

“I wanted to apologise to you.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in and find yourself a little speechless.

“I – I meant why were they were looking for me but go on.”

“Oh,” You think you see his cheeks tint pink a little but with the dim lighting dancing shadows on his face, you’re not sure. “Well, I wanted to say sorry about the last class we had with Gordon.”

He takes a pause to slightly mess with his hair by running a hand through it.

“You were right about Bukowski – I – I don’t know why I said all of that shit.”

Looking back at this moment, you think it’s not your brightest because somehow his rather heartfelt confession falls almost deaf on your ears and somehow the narrative in your mind shifts to something else entirely.

“Is this some sort of joke, Todd?”

“What?”

“Did Morgan put you up to this shit? I know you and I don’t get along but siding with him is real fucking low, you know?”

“I – “

“I can’t fucking believe that you’re listening to all their bullshit and agreeing with them. It’s so – “

“No. What the fuck is wrong with you?” He cuts you off and his voice raises considerably. “I’m trying to fucking apologize to you and all your doing is being a bitch again.”

That silences you, but he continues.

“You know, I’ve tried. I’ve tried everything to understand what I did to fuck up with you, I’ve asked Barbara and Stephanie and – just, fuck, why did I listen to Dick?”

He mutters the last part, but you catch it anyway but still no response forms in your head at all, instead new questions pop-up as Jason runs another frantic hand through his ruined hair before quickly thundering down the stairs, leaving you…

You’re not quite sure what you’re feeling but cold is one of them as you pull the pathetic lace sleeves down your arm to try and warm yourself but nothing happens and maybe you feel your eyes too heavy to keep open as tears brim at the corners.

“Hey – are you okay?”

Babs’ voice causes your head to snap upwards as you watch her quickly scaling the stairs, eyebrows furrowed together, and you offer no response until she reaches the top and extends her arms to pull you into a hug.

“You were right. Halloween really isn’t your holiday.”

“Could you please stay behind for a moment?”

Gordon asks of you as you’re heading out of the hall, and the pit of anxiety resting in your stomach throughout the class, blooms further as you wait on the side until all the hall empties and its just you and Gordon.

He doesn’t say anything for a while, until he finally sighs and looks at you with a hard expression – one you’re all too familiar with from when you were little –

“Concerning Jason,”

You nod. Since your argument two days ago, you haven’t seen him, and the guilt seeped in farther when his spot well behind you remained empty the entire lesson.

“He’s pulled from your partnership.”

“W-what?”

“He came to talk to me, saying that he can’t continue to work with you anymore on any further projects, and the last one I paired you up on should definitively be the last.”

“Sir, I – “

“Look, I don’t like to meddle in the private lives of my students, but this situation is too tiring for me not to say that whatever problem you and Jason have; fix it. I always find both your work fascinating and that goes for the assignment you both submitted before and I simply cannot allow your own vanities to cloud judgment over the fact that you and Jason are paragons at literature and in my books, are too quick-witted to allow this talent to be lost amongst petty arguments.”

“I know, I – “

“So, I hope you’ll resolve this issue before next week’s lesson?”

“I – yes. Yes, I will.”

“Good. You’re dismissed.”

“Can I come in?”

The situation that you’re currently in rolls over you in waves of guilt and anxiety as you stand in front of Jason, in a beige coloured hallway as he idly stands with the apartment door halfway open, hesitant at your words or more so at how you’re standing in front of his apartment with worn boots and a heaving chest. You’d finally taken heed of the advice offered from Gordon, Steph and Babs and even consulted Dick and mulled it over with your own guilt before trekking all the way to his apartment.

“Sure,” His voice sounds removed – apathetic enough that you have to refrain from wincing, as he opens the door further to let you in. “Are you okay?”

You don’t hear him as your boots echo against the hardwood floor as you enter the apartment building and the sudden realization that this is the first time you’ve seen his apartment settles in as you eye the dimly lit space, with books scattered on the coffee – most of them are torn, something you’ve always found a little endearing, though you won’t admit it. The room is an oddly home-y mixture of warm beige's and deep browns that you would’ve kept staring at if he hadn’t called out your name again.

“What?”

“I asked, are you okay? You’re red in the face and panting.”

“Oh, oh, yeah, I walked all the way here and the elevator was out of service, so I used the stairs.”

“Why did you walk, nearly twenty blocks?” He furrows his brows and you let out of a puff of annoyance.

“I – listen, I don’t want to argue with you,” You take a step closer and calm yourself before starting. “You – you were right, I was being a complete and total bitch to you without reason at that party and before that. It’s just – “

You stop, and release a chuckle before awkwardly asking, “I’m gonna need a drink to get through this, do you have any?”

Nearly fifteen minutes later, not as drunk as you need to be, but enough that it gives you courage to finally stop beating around the bush and talk to him so you move to see him also standing facing the open windows to the evening sky, the sun setting against the horizon as dusk settles and you motion for him to sit on the floor as you are and he slowly complies.

“Look, I know I’ve been hostile towards you since – “

“Why?” He interrupts, not looking at you and you sputter a little. “Why have you been so hostile to me.”

“Well, you should know, none of it was your fault – well, not directly.” You sigh.

“College was my chance to start over. You don’t need to know all of the other shit, but I just thought that this whole experience would make everything okay and I wouldn’t need to fight for every single thing in my life just to end up being sub-par. And, it was going great.” You slightly chuckle to try not to choke on your words.

“That was, until you came along with your prodigal capabilities in literature and it felt like everything was falling apart again. Because somehow, suddenly, I wasn’t Gordon’s favourite anymore and I wasn’t at the top of the class – and somehow, I wasn’t enough.” Your voice is a little more choked now as you kept looking forward, even though Jason had started watching you now.

“It just was like my entire belief system just got turned upside down.” You release a breath and let the silence settle after your words.

“Fuck, I just unloaded a crap-ton of shit onto you, and you probably don’t understand any of it. I mean, I’m drunk so I don’t understand either.” You laugh and try not to cry, even though you’re pretty sure you will.

“No, I think I understand sort of, too,” He replies, voice softer than you expected and you’re more surprised to see a small smile gracing his lips. “You’re not completely wrong about the whole belief system thing there, you know, Gordon’s classes meant the same thing to me too and I just wanted to enjoy something without having to fight my way for it but boy, did you make that hard.”

A breathy chuckle escapes you as he stops talking and you both sit in the silence until he pipes up again,

“If we’re trying to mend this whole thing then maybe you should want this back too,” His voice is cryptic as you furrow your brows in confusion and stare at him with a lost expression as he stands up to walk away and disappear into the hallway, out of your sight before quickly returning with something clasped in his hand while you raise an eyebrow at him.

“You dropped this in my car when we were heading back from the party with that whole thing with Anna. Dick found it the next morning and had a whole field day about it.”

In his palm, rests a single earring piece shaped like an olive branch which you thought you’d lost in the chaos of the party and you almost laugh.

“You know, I’m gonna pretend this isn’t too creepy and thank you for giving it back.”

“I was trying to give it back to you but you never wanted to have a single conversation with me so,” You roll your eyes before picking up the earring and hooking it back through your ear even though you didn’t have the other one on.

“Right, I get it, I suck.”

That causes him to laugh as he settles back down again next to you and he doesn’t look at you before saying,

“No, you’re not as annoying as I originally thought.”

You echo a ‘hey’ and lightly punch him and the silence envelopes you both – softly, and there’s a moment of peace you think you’ve both settled in and it feels nice.

le fin

(pt.2 will come)

#dc #dc fanfic #Jason Todd #jason todd x reader #red hood #red hood x reader #batfam #batman imagines #jason todd imagines #red hood imagines #dc fic #dick grayson imagine #barbara gordon #stephanie brown #fanfic #my fanfic #bruce wayne #jason todd x you #red hood x y/n

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justkending · 3 years

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The Number One Rule. Chapter 15.

Summary: Y/N has always been seen as “Steve’s rambunctious sister.” However, she grew up, graduated, and moved to London to study abroad for 4 years and get her bachelor's degree. The girl that returns looks nothing like the teenager that left, but don’t worry the attitude is still there and stronger than ever. What’s to come of the two grown adults that used to push each other's buttons, but now have a lot more in common than they’ve ever realized.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Y/N Rogers (Steve’s little sister)

Word Count: 3100+

A/N: Ladies and gentleman. This is in one of my top 3 chapters I’ve written in this series. The next one being my number 1;) I hope you enjoy and I would love any and all feedback you are willing to share!! xoxoxo

Chapter Fifteen:

Eventually when Bucky had snapped out of his thoughts, Y/N had long fallen asleep on him. He smiled down at her with a sad smile. One filled with remorse for everything she had gone through, but pride in how she handled it and didn’t let it destroy her. At least not to the extent that a lot of people get into.

She had years to do that, whereas Bucky was fresh on the subject. It would take him time to move on from that for her. He couldn’t help but feel hate for himself knowing exactly what party she was talking about.

It was one of the few he and Steve didn’t attend. They had planned on it, but Dot wanted a quiet night in, and Steve just didn’t feel like it or something. It had been a while since that party, so he didn’t remember intricate details. 7 years to be exact. And the only reason he could guess which one it was, was because of how she acted after it. A whole month of depression and guilt she sat with and it showed. For the last 7 years Y/N had carried that with her. The only person she trusted to tell to this day was Beck. Now he was the other.

He gathered her up in his arms, and she drowsily threw her own over his shoulders and hung on in a sleepy daze as he brought her up the stairs. He laid her in her bed, turned on her fan, and tucked her in.

But as he stood to go back downstairs, her hand clasped around his.

“Where y’ going?” she asked. The wine was playing a big part in the sleepiness and he could tell by her weak squeeze to his hand.

“I’m just going to clean up downstairs. I’ll be back up in a second, sweetheart,” she nodded before giving him another squeeze to his hand and pulling the bed covers up to her cheeks. He smiled at her cute self and bent down kissing her forehead. He moved the strands of hair they fell over her eyes and studied her for a second.

Eventually, he pulled away and went to do what he said. Popcorn kernels trashed and bowls cleaned. Leftover wine in the fridge and beer bottles recycled. He folded the blankets on the couch and set the pillows back in their original arrangement. Lastly, he went and checked to make sure all the doors were locked for the night. He had spent the night there enough to do a lock up without issues.

Coming back upstairs, he changed into his own pajamas and snuck into the other side of the bed. Careful not to wake her, he gently and ever so softly, pulled her back to him. In her sleep, she turned to where they were face to face. Curling into his chest in comfort, trying to get as close as she could.

He couldn’t hold in the chuckle that rumbled through his chest as she nuzzled under his chin. He ran his hand up and down her back and noticed her body relaxing with each stroke. He was glad he had that effect on her. It was the least he could offer after not being there for her in those hard times.

Now when he held her, he wasn’t just protecting her, but also trying to shield her from any more pain. He had been doing that his whole life for the family that the Roger’s had become to him. But now was different. This was a different kind of defense. This wasn’t just family protection. This was protection for someone you love.

________________

The next morning, Y/N was the first to wake. She found herself practically embedded in Bucky’s arms. He had wrapped his giant self around her waist pulling her in close to his body.

They had cuddled before, and even had a few sleepovers when Steve wasn’t in town, or if Becca wasn’t going to be home for the night and lent them her space. But it was only enough to count on one hand. That, plus, it never escalated to anything other than cuddling and maybe a makeout session here and there.

Bucky had been gentle and patient in that area. Even if they hadn’t had that talk yet at that point, he didn’t push. Something she wasn’t used to in most of the guys she had dated. Pietro probably being the only other one that was understanding of it.

Even if they had been dating a little over a month, she was glad they were taking it slow. Even if they had known each other their whole lifes.

She somehow was able to turn in his arms and see a soft smile on his lips. He wasn’t awake, so he must have been dreaming of something nice. She took a second just breathing him in and trying to wrap her head around how all this came to be.

Sure she had crushes on him growing up. I mean who doesn’t form a crush for your older brother's hot best friend. Though if she was being honest, she had always thought deep down that it was never a card that would be played in this game of life.

Little did they know, it would just take time and growth. Then the fates would do with them what they will. Most card games were just a game of chance. You never know what’s going to come around the corner...

Eventually, she pulled herself away ever so gently and quietly to escape downstairs and make breakfast. She was still in her sleep shorts, but at some point took off her sweatshirt in the night from almost overheating. That plus the surprisingly excessive amount of body heat Bucky gave off made it hard to sleep with it on.

She found a new one laying over her chair in the corner and threw it on before grabbing a hair tie and brushing her bed head up into a bun.

Tiptoeing to the door, she slowly closed it leaving it open just a crack.

Just as she took a step on the stairs, she heard the front door unlock and open. Freezing in her spot she waited a second. The only person who had a key besides their mom and her was…

“Hey, sis,” Steve said coming around the corner seeing her at the top of the stairs.

“S-Steve,” she said in almost a whisper. Panic. Fear. Dread hit her at full force.“What, um, what are you doing here?”

“It’s Saturday and mom’s out of town, and I knew you were home alone. I thought I’d come over and we can go get breakfast or something,” he said with a sweet innocent smile.

Running down the stairs a little quicker, she met him at the bottom.

“Um, why didn’t you call? I would have gotten ready. I just woke up,” her voice was filled with anxiety and Steve noticed.

“I thought I’d surprise you,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “You ok? You seem off?”

“Um, no. I’m fine. I just got a text from work that one of the projects they had me on needs to be done sooner than I expected.” How she came up with that lie on the spot like that? She had no idea, but she ran with it. “Yeah, not the best thing to wake up too. Making me a little nervous.”

“Oh, well do you want to go get breakfast and we can talk about it? I’ve barely heard about anything with your new job. We need to catch up, Mini,” he said, poking her stomach and making her let out a loud laugh, having always been super ticklish.

Just seconds after that, having heard voices and a loud almost shout, Bucky swug open the door and peered down the stairway where they were both at the bottom.

Two seconds.

Two seconds was all it took for Steve to put two and two together in his head. Bucky acting weird lately. Sneaking off randomly and never telling Steve anything, which wasn’t like him in their friendship. Hell, he had even noticed Bucky’s lingering looks, but always put in the back of his mind thinking nothing of it.

But now. Oh, he was thinking about something now.

Bucky was frozen at the top of the stairs, eyes locked with Steve. To make matters worse, he only had pajama pants on and no shirt.

Even from the distance of the stairwell, Bucky could see the storm brewing in the blue eyes of his best friend.

“Steve,” Y/N started placing a hand on his arm.

The blonde immediately ripped away from her as he turned to fully face Bucky. The alpha male, big brother, pissed off best friend was in a stance ready to fight.

“Why the FUCK did you just come out of my sister’s room half fucking naked?” Steve growled.

“Steve, you don’t know the full story,” Y/N said softly, but she could sense the tension and for once in her life, she was slightly scared to enter the fight.

“The fuck I don’t know the full story,” Steve said finally whipping his head back to Y/N. His blue eyes were carrying a category 5 hurricane in those ocean blues. But they didn’t stay on her long as he turned back to Bucky.

“Listen,” Bucky said, coming down slowly.

“I don’t know if I want to,” he responded through his teeth. “Take one more step down here, and you’re going to need some serious dental work and a nose job.”

Bucky froze about 4-5 steps away from the siblings. Finally, he looked at Y/N, worry in his eyes, but they were also apologetic.

Y/N immediately moved around Steve and stood between the two. Closer to Steve to try and hold him back if she needed to.

“Now wait a damn minute,” she spoke up looking straight at her older brother even if he was sending a death glare past her shoulder. “You need to calm down before we talk-”

“No. You need to go to your room. Bucky and I need to talk,” he said in an authoritative voice.

“Excuse me?” she retorted back. Her gentleness in the situation was fading and being replaced with aggravation. “Go to my room? Am I a 13 year old girl?” she said stepping in his eyeline so he was looking at her.

“This isn’t a fucking joke, Y/N!” He shouted. “Go to your room!”

“No,” she replied, folding her arms across her chest.

The two had this kind staring contest all the time growing up. Anytime there was a fight, they almost never relented with their stubborn asses. Their mom or dad had to send them to their rooms themselves and kept them there. The time ranging from 20 minutes to 5 hours before they calmed down.

They were two of the most headstrong ornery people to live in this world. And it didn’t help that they were now pitted against each other. This kind of fight looked as if it could be ranging more into weeks or months.

Knowing and experiencing situations like this with them before, Bucky spoke up again.

“Y/N, you should listen to him. We need to talk,” he said sedately.

“I leave and he’s going to beat your ass,” Y/N said, still staring at her brother.

“I think he’s going to beat my ass either way,” Bucky mumbled. “Really Y/N. Just give us a second.”

“I’m a part of this equation too,” she said. Her tone easing just enough to be noticed.

“Yes, you are. But right now, Steve and I need to talk first,” he said trying his best to defuse the fire against the heated situation happening in the entryway of their house.

There were a few more seconds of silence as they glared at the other.

“Fine, but I’m coming back down in 10 minutes,” she bartered.

No one responded as she started to go up the stairs backwards. The staredown did not cease until she was even with Bucky on the steps.

“If he does anything stupid, I’m going to beat his ass,” she said looking at Bucky.

“I’m sure you will,” he said with a small smile that was forced for reassurance.

She placed a hand on his shoulder. A silent good luck as they studied the other in a quick second.

Turning back to look at Steve, she saw he was still in a rigid stance. The tension in his shoulders doing nothing but grow with every passing second. She would’ve sent him one more warning glare if he was looking, but his eyes were trained on Bucky with a look that could kill.

Eventually she went into her room and shut her door, leaving it open just a crack. They deserved their privacy no matter how bad she wanted to step in. Deep down she knew, as best friends, they needed to talk on their own.

Bucky looked back down and saw a bull looking at him like he was a red cape.

“Outside. Now,” Steve commanded before stomping off to the back and letting the screen door slam harshly.

Letting out a long sigh and running a hand down his face, he finally went down the stairs. He grabbed a shirt from the bag he had left down there and headed to the backyard. Steve already in the grass pacing.

“Steve,” Bucky said softly as he walked down the porch steps barefoot.

Instantly, a fist collided with his face. He stumbled trying his best to not fall from the impact. When he looked up, grasping his jaw, he sent a glare to Steve.

“I’m not saying I don’t deserve that, but-”

“Oh, you deserve a lot more than that, but I need you to explain what the HELL I just walked into and you can’t do that with no teeth,” Steve glowered.

Looking at him while straightening his posture he wiggled his jaw some feeling just a tad bit of blood on his lip. Damn him for teaching Steve how to make a proper swing like that.

“You gonna punch me again before I talk, or can I fucking explain myself now?” No response, only a stare was given. “Ok, so I’ve been hiding something from you.” Steve raised an eyebrow.

“You think?”

“Listen, I’m almost as taken aback as you. One day, she’s like a little sister running around with my actual sister, and the next she's a mature grown adult who knows what she wants, exudes confidence, and is intelligent beyond measure.” He paused before adding. “Not that we didn’t know that.”

“I know what my sister is. What I want to know is why you’re sleeping with her?” Steve said, taking a step closer.

Bucky just straightened up more as if expecting another hit. But then he processed Steve’s sentence.

“Sleeping with her?” he questioned almost in shock. Steve not breaking his gaze. “I’m not fucking sleeping with her, asshole! I’m dating her.”

The smallest amount of tension released from Steve’s body and his face wasn’t frowning as much.

“You’re dating?”

“Yes. Dating.”

“So you guys haven’t-”

“No. I’m a little upset that you think that low of me,” Bucky scoffed. “You think I would really just start booty calling my best friend's sister? If I wanted a friend with benefits, I can easily find a girl at a bar,” he said, taking a deep breath and running a hand through his hair. “You’re sister isn’t a girl from a bar, Steve.”

Steve was silent processing it. He still wasn’t happy, but at least it wasn’t as bad as had thought.

“Listen, Y/N’s been in my life just as long as she has been in yours. We’ve grown up together, created childhood memories together, picked on each other, and protected each other. She would be the last person on this earth I would want to degrade to a one night stand. She deserves so much more than that.”

“Exactly,” Steve said.

Bucky paused taking note of Steve’s tone. “Exactly? Why do you say it like that?”

“I mean she deserves a lot,” he said, confirming Buck’s thought.

“I see. So I don’t make the cut?” Bucky said, now getting frustrated. The silence was enough of an answer to his question. “Wow. 26 years of being best friends and you think that little of me?”

“She’s my sister,” Steve answered. A slight tone of apology behind his words, but he kept the stoic face.

“Yes, Steve she is! And 2+2= 4! We know this!” he said waving his arms and scoffing as he turned in his spot before turning back. Hands on his hips before one came up and ran a hand through his slight beard.

“You know what? Screw this. I’m not going to sit here and be that guy that says, ‘Yeah, you’re right. She doesn’t deserve me. I’m not good enough for her.’ You know why, Steve? Because I know that. And it’s because I know that, that I’m going to strive with every muscle in my body and every might of my being to make sure I can be that for her one day. To make sure I can give her everything and more that she deserves. To make sure she never has to see a sad day again. To make sure she only experiences joy if I have any say. To make absolutely sure that no one ever hurts her. Why? Because I love her!”

Out of breath, Bucky chest heaving up and down showed how hard his lungs were working to get air back in them.

Steve’s posture had almost gone back to normal. The anger no longer there. Whatever emotion he was feeling, Bucky couldn’t tell.

“How long?” Steve asked.

“What?” Bucky asked, confused.

“How long have you loved her?” he repeated, looking down at the ground.

Bucky paused. He couldn’t actually answer that. There was no specific time frame. Truth was he had loved her for a while.

“Honestly, longer than I know... It’s just taken me this long to figure out that’s what this feeling was.”

Steve nodded his head as he put his hands in his pockets and continued to stare at the dirt by his feet.

“Ok.”

Taken aback, Bucky's eyes widened.

“Ok?”

“Yeah. Ok,” Steve repeated before he started walking to the back fence that led to the driveway.

“Wait. You’re just going to leave it at 'Ok,’ and walk away?” Bucky rushed over to stop him.

Steve slowly turned from staring at the ground and then back at him.

“You know, I thought that we were close enough that you could come to me with this kind of thing. That you wouldn’t feel like you had to hide it from me. Y/N and you both,” he said with pursed lips. “Guess I was wrong.”

With that he turned back and walked to his car. Bucky watched as he started the engine, pulled out, and disappeared.

What the hell kind of mess just happened?

(Tags for this series will be closing soon as it is getting pretty full, please send an ask if you want to be added:)

I’ll post on whatever chapter I decided to close it down here.

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taexual · 4 years

Text

i’d love you to stay but that’s simply insane // JJK (22)

jungkook is an uncontrollable lead vocalist of the campus band, and you’re a goal-oriented top student that’s known his rich and complicated family since childhood. you don’t want anything to do with each other, until each other is exactly what you want to do.

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: college au

warnings: there is a timejump!!

words: 5.2k

chapter twenty-two (final)

You had just left your house, already running late, when your phone lit up with an incoming call from Inna. Smiling with a good-natured roll of your eyes, you answered the phone. You already knew what she was going to say.

“Are you there yet?” you spoke into the phone, pressing it against your head with your shoulder while you put gloves on. It was chilly today.

“I’m by the entrance to the restaurant,” Inna replied, her voice manic. “I’m still in my car. I can’t leave. You might have to come and drag me in there by my hair.”

“Breathe,” you said, picking up your phone with a gloved hand before you looked around the empty street so you could safely cross it. “You can do this. It’s just dinner.”

“It’s dinner with his parents,” she shot back, still just as panicked. “I know you’ve known Jungkook’s parents as long as you’ve known your own, but it’s different for me. These people don’t know me. What if they hate me?”

You heard a beep on the line that indicated a new text message and pulled your phone back to check. It was Jungkook, sending you an exceeding amount of question marks and exclamation points; he had clearly noticed your absence.

“Well,” you started to say to Inna while you quickly typed back, OMW, and sent it to Jungkook, “they will definitely hate you if you ditch the dinner.”

Inna whined at this. “I called you for help.”

“How can I help you,” you couldn’t help teasing, “if your situation is different?”

Recognizing her own condescending tone in your words, she sighed heavily but made no attempt to correct herself as she pleaded, “please.”

“Alright, listen, it’ll be fine,” you said and almost stopped walking, too focused on the conversation. It was too cold to stand around on this late autumn evening, however, so you kept going as you spoke, “it’s the first time you’re meeting them, so you will most likely only talk about superficial things, like your education, your job, how you two met, how—”

“Most likely?” Inna repeated, distressed. “And what if they tell me, straight to my face, that they can’t stand the sight of me?

You couldn’t help but smile as Inna’s worries echoed your own when you and Jungkook were just starting to talk again. She’d found ways to convince you to be bold and give him a chance, so you owed it to her to be as encouraging as you could – even if it meant abandoning all plans and going over there to literally drag her into the restaurant by her hair as she’d said.

“They will not,” you told her firmly.

“But how do you know?” Inna demanded right back.

“Because you’re impossible to hate.”

“But what if they do?”

“Then, they won’t say anything,” you replied patiently, “because that’s a very rude thing to say to someone you’re meeting for the first time.”

Inna still found a loophole. “What if they’re extremely honest?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you said. “It’s still rude.”

“But what if—”

“Inna—just listen,” you cut her off as you stopped by another crosswalk, waiting for the light to change, “the only honest conversation I’ve had with Jungkook’s mother,” you spoke, “was two years ago, after she came to see me on campus. Remember that? Before then, we were on friendly terms but we never talked about our feelings, or anything deep at all. She could have despised me deep down in her heart, I wouldn’t have known.”

Inna considered this for a second – while you crossed the street – and then you heard her sigh in defeat.

“Right,” she said, hesitating. She must have been running out of excuses. “Well, that—I’m not sure if that makes it better, actually.”

“Just go in there. Okay?” you said, your voice soft. You had experienced the fright that comes with being in a relationship firsthand, so you tried to find a balance between tough love and caring support as you told her, “open the door of your car, step outside, lock the damn car – so we wouldn’t have history repeat itself – and then walk into the restaurant. You can do that, can’t you?”

You couldn’t see, her but you could feel her roll her eyes when you brought up the “Someone Broke Into My Car, Please Help, There’s No Way I Could Have Left It Unlocked” incident that she refused to talk about again after the police officers laughed her out of the station.

“Sure,” Inna said, “I can do that. If I walk in and then immediately turn back around.”

“No,” you said. “You walk in, you go meet your boyfriend and his parents, and then you send me an invitation to your wedding as soon as the dinner ends.”

She laughed at this in what was supposed to be a sarcastic way, but, instead, she just sounded hopeful.

“You’re very funny,” she said.

“And you’re very late,” you tossed back as you checked your own watch and then sped up. “Go.”

“Okay,” she said with a deep exhale. You heard the door of her car open. “I’m going. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you replied, pleased to hear that she was really moving. “And if I find out you didn’t actually go in there, we will have a serious conversation the next time I see you. It might get physical.”

“I shall therefore avoid you,” she replied with grandiose dedication and then added playfully, “which shouldn’t be hard, considering that you’ve switched me for Jungkook.”

Gasping dramatically to emphasize your offense at this accusation, you defended, “hey, you were the one who moved out as soon as we graduated. I was going to suggest we continued to live together off-campus.”

“Your boyfriend would have hired a squad of assassins to kill me if I’d agreed,” Inna said, her voice light. Her car beeped twice in the background of the call, proving that she really locked it this time. “Moving in with you has been his dream come true.”

“Well, I’m running late to his show,” you said, already breathless as you were near-sprinting towards the venue that was still at least two minutes away, “so we’ll see if he still wants to live with me after tonight.”

“Oh! Sorry, you should have told me you were busy.”

“It’s fine,” you replied. “I’m never busy to scold you like you’ve scolded me every day for the four years that we lived together.”

Inna laughed. “It wasn’t every day.”

“It was,” you countered, feeling a smile spread on your face at the memory. “I sort of miss that sometimes.”

“Me too,” she admitted. “Lunch tomorrow?”

“Oh, you’re making an appointment to get your ass kicked?”

“There’ll be no need for that,” she promised. “I’ve already left my car.”

“Okay, that’s good,” you said. “I’ll see you tomorrow at one, then. Be brave, soldier.”

You chuckled at your own joke but Inna only hummed in appreciation.

“Thanks,” she said again. “Have fun tonight.”

“You, too,” you said, catching your breath as you slowed down after spotting the crowd of people, queuing by the entrance to the venue – the concert, clearly, hadn’t started yet. “Text me when you’re home.”

“I will if I’m not dead,” Inna replied.

Ignoring that, you reminded her one more time, “love you!”

“Love you, too,” she replied before hanging up just as she opened the door to the restaurant – and just as you reached the back entrance of the venue.

Namjoon was already waiting for you there. He greeted you with a quick hug and, even though he had a smile on his face, he still couldn’t help but chastise you.

“You’re late,” he said as the two of you entered the building, “he’s pretending to be fine with it but, really, he hasn’t let go of his phone for the past fifteen minutes.”

“It’s my bad,” you replied, “I should have left the house early but I had to make some last minute changes on my project. Are his parents here?”

“They’re here,” Namjoon replied and then back-tracked, “is everything okay with your project?”

“Yeah, it’s all done, I’ll present it tomorrow,” you replied. “Is the band ready?”

The two of you were on the move to see Parental Advisory, so you had no time to stop and properly discuss everything you wanted to ask each other, but that wasn’t new to either of you. Ever since Namjoon joined the team as Assistant Manager – per Jungkook’s request, much to everyone’s disbelief – you two had learned to talk about several different topics at the same time without getting confused.

“They’re ready,” Namjoon nodded, grabbing your arm when you took a turn towards the stairs leading up to the private viewing room upstairs, instead of walking down the hall towards the changing rooms, “they’re still backstage. He’s expecting you.”

“Oh, of course,” you nodded, allowing him to guide you down the hall; you could already hear the excited shrieks of the band members as they warmed up for the performance. “Are you sure I won’t interrupt—?”

“Namjoon!” a voice screeched, forcing you both to flinch in surprise. “Jesus, you’re still here?”

Both of you turned to see the frustrated publicist half-jogging to catch up with you. She gave you a nod of acknowledgement and turned back to Namjoon with a look that demanded an explanation.

“Yeah, Jungkook asked me to wait for—” he started to say but the publicist turned around, indicating for him to follow after.

“Don’t ever do anything Jungkook asks you to do, I thought you knew that,” she said, turning to look at him over her shoulder. “Come on, let’s move! The manager is not doing his job because one of the sound guys keeps flirting with him, and he’s distracted. I need you to be his right hand.”

Giving you an apologetic smile, Namjoon caught up with her and you could still hear him mumble, “that’s what I am anyway.”

“Alright, then I need you to be his right and left hand now,” she said curtly and then stopped, giving you one more look. “You’ll find the changing room okay, love? He’s been waiting for you.”

“Yeah, I’m going there now, thanks,” you replied, turning around towards the animalistic growls that would have sounded threatening if you hadn’t heard them so many times before.

You felt yourself smile as you knocked on the door gently and then turned the handle to enter. You’ve seen Parental Advisory in so many changing rooms over the past two years, there was virtually nothing they could do to surprise you, – which was why you merely sighed in content when you saw the boys jumping around the room and banging on their chests like gorillas infected with rabies.

Jungkook was the first one who turned around when he heard the door open and, not having expected you to finally be here – just like every previous time you were late to see him, he had assumed you were dead in a ditch – he did a double take before he finally leaped across the room towards you.

“Where were you?” he asked in a frenzy as he wrapped his arms around you as if the last time he’d seen you was months ago and not just this morning over breakfast, “I thought I asked Namjoon to walk you here.”

“Sorry, I’m here,” you replied, your chest cavity always turning into mush whenever he hugged you like that. “Namjoon did walk me, but your publicist—hey, you’re dressed already, aren’t you supposed to go up on stage?”

“We are. Soon,” he said and then, not intending to make you sound guilty, he added, “I was just waiting for you.”

Your eyes widening, you scolded, “Go! You’d perform just as well without me.”

Not letting you push him away from you, he kissed you instead – just quickly enough so the other members of the group wouldn’t notice, but long enough so you’d get to taste the familiar mint and strawberry on his lips.

“I know,” he said when he pulled away.

The confident grin on his lips surprised you even though it shouldn’t have.

“Oh, you do, then?” you asked.

“I do,” he replied, still smirking. “But I still need you with me all the time.”

“Hmm, right,” you spoke. “And having me around that often is not exhausting at all?”

“I wouldn’t know,” he said and, this time, he had every intention to make you feel guilty, “you keep leaving me by myself.”

Laughing because he was exaggerating and he knew it, you nodded your head in the direction of the other boys in the room – they were finished with their warm-up and were now busy making stupid expressions in the vanity mirror.

“You have your whole group with you,” you told Jungkook.

“They don’t count,” he replied dismissively.

Walking by at the right moment, Yoongi patted Jungkook’s shoulder, surprising him, “thanks a lot, friend. We’re going in five.”

He walked away before Jungkook could reply, throwing the younger boy a look over his shoulder to confirm that he’s not actually angry, but they really do need to head out now.

“Go,” you said, forcing Jungkook to return his attention to you. “Break a leg. Actually, break them both.”

He laughed, kissing you once more and not pulling away this time – not until he heard Taehyung groan dramatically as he walked past you two.

Awarding his bandmate with a roll of his eyes, Jungkook smiled at you. “I’ll see you after?”

“Of course,” you nodded.

“Promise?” he asked because this had become a ritual between you two.

“Promise,” you answered just like you’d done before every other Parental Advisory show for the past two years.

For the first time in their careers, Parental Advisory performed at one of the biggest venues in town – it took them years to get here but they always knew they would.

And yet, as they reached the middle of their set-list and paused for a ment, they still couldn’t take it all in – it felt surreal how the dozens of people who came to hear them perform had gradually turned into hundreds, making them legends on campus. And then hundreds turned into thousands, and made them into a viral sensation that virtually no one could resist singing along to.

You couldn’t help but give in to the intoxicating atmosphere as well.

The Parental Advisory performances – and the after-parties that followed; even if, nowadays, they were hosted at night clubs with the biggest capacity available in a particular town – were still an unforgettable experience, even more so when lighting and special effects were added into the mix.

Dancing along to the songs you’d heard a million times now, you cherished every second of this night as if you were never going to see it again.

But you knew you would.

The band had two more performances scheduled at this venue. And they had forty more left on the tour across the country.

Granted, they would have probably had far less if it weren’t for Namjoon.

Ever since you graduated and Jungkook managed to find a way to see eye-to-eye with Namjoon, he became one of the main reasons why Parental Advisory started to advance so quickly, releasing new songs that took the musical charts by storm and performing shows that prompted international magazines to question how it was possible for the band to fly under their radar for so long.

Namjoon never imagined himself working for a group he’d never particularly liked before, but this was precisely what he’d studied for: he knew the steps to success and he knew the people who’d help them climb those steps, too. And, as it turned out, he loved being a part of this ride as well.

The sudden mainstream popularity had come quickly but the members were ready for it.

Even Jungkook who found himself in a new sort of relationship with his father – one where they weren’t talking to each other unless it was absolutely necessary. This arrangement pleased them both but Jungkook knew it couldn’t be permanent. His father didn’t simply decide to quit talking to him; he just didn’t know how else to express his disappointment that his son had chosen his band instead of the family company.

Miraculously, Jungkook had found a way to make sure his father didn’t kick him out of the house he grew up in – the house he had just returned to – and that was when he announced that you and him were moving in together one Sunday night dinner.

His mother was overjoyed. His father – startled by the way she leaped from her seat in uncontrollable excitement – was forced to quit simmering in silent disappointment, and express his support as well. Even though it wasn’t what he was hoping for, Jungkook’s father got exactly what he wanted – his son had grown up.

As it turned out, when you agreed to help Jungkook get himself together, you weren’t doing it so he could take over the family company, but rather, so he would be able to show his father what he really wanted to achieve in life.

And he’d done that.

He’d done that so well, in fact, that both of his parents were now clapping along to the rhythm as they sat behind you, by the bar of the VIP booth. They both waved at you when you turned to look.

When you looked back at the stalls, you saw what you’d seen many times before – the people sang and danced along, their eyes burning with fires so big, it was like they were asleep before they came here, and this music was what made them finally wake up and realize that they were alive.

You would never grow tired of watching the venue come to life as soon as the band played the first few notes.

You would never grow tired of the way the members of Parental Advisory lost themselves in their audience, and the audience lost themselves in them.

And you would certainly never grow tired of that fact that every time, right before they started the encore, Jungkook would find you, wherever you were in the audience.

“I love you,” he would mouth soundlessly, and you’d hear him loud and clear, past the noisy ambiance of the venue, no matter how far away from him you were.

While the rest of the Parental Advisory members left to prepare for a long night of partying ahead, you and Jungkook left the venue on foot, purposefully choosing to take the long way home.

“Are you sure you didn’t want to go to the club?” you asked again as you walked through an empty park, holding hands and enjoying each other’s warmth on an otherwise cold night. “It’s the first performance out of three, the members will miss you.”

“They’ll be too drunk to notice I’m gone,” he replied, smirking as he added, “besides, tonight gives them an occasion to break out another bottle of absinthe and we both know how much you love that.”

Scrunching your nose, you reminded him, “I could have waited for you at home. Just because I can’t go to the party doesn’t mean you shouldn’t—”

“I need you with me at all times,” he replied, “remember?”

“I am with you at all times,” you said.

“Except when you’re off breaking records at work,” Jungkook teased.

You lowered your eyes and did not get to see the way his face beamed with pride. You’d become the youngest Team Manager the company’s ever had, and you’d done that on your own, choosing to find a workplace where you could try to build your career from the ground up, instead of getting an—unfair—advantage of working for Jungkook’s father.

Your promotion came several months ago now, but Jungkook was still proud.

“I’ve only broken one,” you replied humbly, “and it hardly counts. Soon enough, there will come someone who’ll become Team Manager at an even younger age than me.”

“Still,” Jungkook shrugged, gently rocking your intertwined hands back and forth as you walked down the deserted park. “I don’t get to see you as often as I’d like because you’re working all of the time. I’m not even sure if you eat at all when you’re away from home.”

“We always have dinner together,” you reminded him with a smile – because coming home to him has been the favorite part of your day – and then added as an afterthought, “hasn’t it been two years that we’ve been together?”

“You counted?” he asked, a teasing grin on his lips. “How sick of me are you?”

“A little,” you joked, and then had to run after him as Jungkook dramatically dropped your hand and broke into a run, putting more distance between you.

Catching up with him, you grabbed his arm with both of yours and forced him to slow down. “Hey, come on! You know I’m joking!”

Your voice was full of humor and so was his when he replied, “your jokes were always terrible.”

It was your turn to let go of him as you took a step back and demanded, “you take that back!”

Laughing, Jungkook walked towards you so he could envelope you in a hug, all while you watched him with mock-offence. He pulled away from the hug a second later to wipe the expression off your face by pressing his lips to yours.

“It has been two years,” he said then, keeping his arms comfortably wrapped around your waist, “and somehow I’m still not used to the fact that we can just… do whatever we want together. Stand here like this. Jump into that pile of old leaves if we feel like it.”

Laughing, you shook your head.

“Maybe let’s do the leaves some other time,” you said, leaning into him by resting your head against his shoulder. “Unless we’re much more used to each other in a few years and we don’t want to roll around in leaves anymore.”

“Hmm, I don’t think so,” he replied, closing his eyes for a moment when the smell of your hair reached his senses. He hadn’t gotten used to that, either. “I think this is something that I’ll always have a hard time believing to be real.”

You could feel the way your heart rate slowed down when you leaned against him. It suddenly seemed impossible that, just a few years ago, enjoying each other’s company in an empty park in the middle of the night, would have been merely a dream – something you woke up from when morning came.

“Maybe it’s because there are no people around,” you suggested, “and that’s why this feels surreal.”

“No, it’s like this all the time,” Jungkook disagreed, exhaling as he put one of his hands on the back of your head, holding you against him. “It makes sense, though, doesn’t it?”

Distracted by the feeling of him so close, you mumbled, “what does?”

“The disbelief,” he said. “I mean, two years ago, would you have thought we’d be here? Standing like this, under this leafless willow tree, probably looking sort of creepy to anyone who might walk by?”

Chuckling when he turned something that could have been romantic into a potential to get arrested, you shook your head against his shoulder. “No. I definitely didn’t. But I’m glad we are. Even if we look creepy.”

“Hmm,” caressing your hair, he hummed with a satisfied smile, “I’m glad, too.”

“Do you think we’ll still be here another two years later?” you asked. “Looking creepy to anyone who might walk by?”

It was Jungkook who couldn’t resist laughing this time as he replied, “I hope so.”

He wasn’t certain – he didn’t promise you that you would definitely still be here – and perhaps that made sense, too. He said he’d never lie to you and you couldn’t expect him to start now, not even if a promise of forever would have been the appropriate thing to give in a situation like this.

“I’d like that, though,” he added after a moment. “I’d like to think you’d have enough patience to deal with me for another two years.”

You were about to smile at the on-going joke about how you were “putting up” with him, but then stopped yourself because, truth be told, it wasn’t funny. Not in this context and, actually, not in any context at all.

“You’re not a nuisance to me,” you told him--as you have a dozen times before--but your voice was too quiet to make it sound as impactful as you’d hoped, so you added, louder, “I love you.”

“I know,” he replied and continued, in an almost defensive manner, “but, because we’d already been apart from each other before, it’s hard to just start believing that we have a happily ever after ahead of us. You know what I mean?”

You pulled your head away from his shoulder and looked at him. “That’s—”

“But,” he cut you off after catching the terror in your eyes, “at the same time, if we’d never separated before, it’s possible that we wouldn’t be here at all right now. So, maybe it was all meant to be.”

“Do you really believe that?” you asked, not concealing your skepticism and the fear that was still present in your chest after he’d revealed that he didn’t believe in your happy ending. “Do you think it was necessary for us to spend some time apart so we could find ourselves here?”

Jungkook shrugged. “I’d like to think that everything happens for a reason and that every action leads to something else. Sort of like a Butterfly Effect. So, maybe suffering for seven years was worth it because it prepared us for a lifetime of happiness ahead.”

He could see the way your face contorted painfully for just a second – you were always sensitive when it came to cliché lines – and it brought a smile to his face. He was happy, and even more so when he realized that, two years later, you had learned how to talk about your seven-year break without suffocating.

Two years later, it became one of the obstacles you had overcome. One of many, maybe, but if you’d survived that, there was little you couldn’t survive.

“I don’t think suffering of any kind should be worth it in the end. I think it’d be better if we didn’t suffer at all,” you argued but then settled, a moment later, “I do agree that unhappiness makes you appreciate happiness more, though.”

“See?” he grinned, choosing to consider this as a compromise. “Meant to be.”

“Well, since it sounds like the universe loves kicking us where it hurts the most,” you spoke, the smile on his face easing the anxiety that his previous uncertainty about your future had brought, “why don’t we go for those additional two years, too? Or more if we’re lucky. Even if we aren’t really meant to be. Especially if we aren’t. Just to spit the universe in the face.”

Laughing, Jungkook hugged you tighter until you were pressed against him and could no longer see his face.

“We are lucky,” he said, cherishing every moment with you because he never knew how many more of them he’d get, and that was okay, because he stood here, holding you tightly in his arms, and nothing else existed to him but this moment. He finished, “but only because we decide to be.”

“Yeah?” you played along, hugging him back with an equal amount of love and force. You’d unintentionally started a war of Who Could Squeeze The Other One Tighter. He was winning as you asked breathlessly, “so, there’s no such thing as destiny, then?”

“No, there is,” he replied, letting go of you when he realized that his grip on you might have really done some serious damage to your lungs. You were smiling when you pulled away from the hug, however. He added, “I’m the one who gets to decide what my destiny is, though.”

“And what’s that?” you asked.

“Yo—”

“If you say ‘you’,” you gave him a warning look, “I will smack you.”

He laughed, puffing his chest in preparation for a punch that he knew might come; you weren’t really kidding about these things.

“That’s mean,” he said then, and, as a ploy to extract pity – but also because it was the truth – he added, “I love you.”

Naturally, you replied, “I love you more.”

Naturally, he protested, “no, you don’t.”

It annoyed you that he always did this but, at the same time, it was such a familiar trait of this, that right here, right now, you couldn’t help but feel the warmth in your chest spread to your face as you smiled, despite yourself.

“I do,” you argued, still grinning.

“You don’t,” Jungkook insisted.

“I do.”

“You d—”

Knowing what was coming – and how long it’d be before you’d reach the end of this argument – you leaned in and pressed your lips to his, promptly shutting him up.

When you heard him inhale in surprise, his lips moving against yours to respond to the kiss, you pulled away.

Breathless, even though his lungs were full of oxygen, Jungkook nodded, impressed.

“Nice,” he commented.

“Yeah?” you snickered. “Maybe I’ll use that to win all arguments against you.”

“Cool,” he agreed. “Maybe I’ll use that to start more arguments with you.”

Thrilled to feel that excited jump of your heart each time you naturally slipped back into flirting – even two years after you started to date – you bit back, “more than you do now? Impossible.”

Raising his eyebrows, he returned to his College Frat Boy roots as he inquired, “is that a challenge?”

Laughing, you pulled away from him far enough so he couldn’t reach you, only to end up right by his side again when he took both of your hands into his, not letting you stray too far from him.

“Is everything a challenge with you?” you countered, the feeling of his warm hands against your cold ones comforting.

“It is,” he said, serious. “And I’m winning.”

“How so?” you asked.

“I have you.”

You looked ready to punch him again so Jungkook took both of your wrists into one of his hands and covered his face with his free hand, blocking his view of your defeated expression as you groaned and rolled your eyes.

“I wasn’t a challenge,” you replied, choosing to avoid violence when you knew he was strong – and dedicated – enough to lift you up and throw you over his shoulder if he felt like it.

“You were,” he disagreed, dropping his hand to his side. “Admit it, you thought you’d be insane to let me back into your life.”

“I still think so sometimes.”

You were joking and he couldn’t lose the cheerful tone of his voice, either, as he asked, “do you regret it?”

“Abandoning my sanity to be with you?” you clarified.

Snorting, Jungkook nodded.

“No,” you answered without a second thought. “Even though I probably should.”

Laughing – because he didn’t think he was ever happier than he was in that moment; although, to be fair, he felt so about every moment with you – Jungkook hugged you tighter, spinning you around in a half-circle so unexpectedly, you squealed at the feeling of your feet leaving the ground for a full second.

“I love you,” he said once he put you down and pressed his forehead against yours. “My destiny isn’t just a few more years with you. It’s a few more decades. And now that I’ve said it out loud, it has to come true.”

Closing your eyes, you tried to catch your breath and felt yourself smile even though your stomach contracted unpleasantly when Jungkook purposefully chose to voice his thoughts in the cheesiest way he could manage.

“I love you more,” you told him and then, realizing your recklessness, rushed to add, “and don’t you dare—”

“No, you don’t.”

He was provoking you and you knew it but, honest to all that was holy, you didn’t mind it one bit.

Pressing a kiss to his lips to distract him and change the topic, you felt Jungkook hold onto you tighter as he smiled into the kiss, thus confirming that this was precisely what he was hoping would happen.

“I’ll take it I win, then,” he said after you pulled away to take a breath and felt the cold breeze on your face.

“Let’s talk about that home,” you replied. “I’m cold.”

“Yeah?” he let go of you so he could zip your jacket up to the very top and then unfold your collar so it would cover up more of your neck. Then, once he was content with the amount of warmth your jacket could provide, he took your hand again. “Let’s go home.”

fin.

masterlist

#bts reactions #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts college au #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #fanfiction #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook fanfic #college au #jungkook college au #jeon jungkook fanfiction #jeon jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #fluff #bts fluff

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guqin-and-flute · 3 years

Text

[I am once again giving you an unrelated fanfic. Have some Modern married Xiyao.

Potential CW: poor anger coping skills?, very brief mention of suicidal ideation in internal dialogue. It's an errant thought and he doesn't actually mean it]

Jin Guangyao is upset. What's more upsetting is that he doesn't know why he's upset--this lack of information rankles him more than the feeling. He's used to feeling badly. That's how life is. But without a name, there is nowhere to file it away neatly. It is easier to ignore the sharp sting of a newly noticed cut than this fucking awful malaise that has apparently decided to settle over him with no rhyme or reason like he's some stupid idiot in an artsy French film, slowly choking down filtered cigarettes on some rusty balcony against a sunset or something.

That's not what he does. He is efficient. He is useful. And when he is like this, he is not.

And he still doesn't know why. And the fact that he cannot categorize and escape this has the ennui sliding slowly into a slow boil of tooth grinding fury.

Had it been the morning traffic? The fact that the library had emailed to inform him of a delay on his inter-library loan? The fact that his overpriced coffee was just a tiny bit burnt? The fact that Zixuan had taken a sick day today and so had not brought the soup his wife had promised Jin Guangyao for lunch? It shouldn't be, because these are all so horrifyingly trivial.

He has a tension headache beginning to string itself along his temples. He hates that the receptionist has a perky goodbye ready. He hates that the sun is shining so brightly. Then, he hates that the shadows of the clouds when they pass make things look grungy and dull. He hates that there is a flap of leather from his steering wheel that has peeled up in the back from his picking and he can feel it rubbing against his index finger as he stares, white knuckled and unblinking into the brake lights ahead of him as this bubbling pique crescendos as slowly as one of Xichen's beloved classical music pieces.

In fact, one is playing on the radio, softly, just within hearing range. The quiet, shrill edge of violins makes him want to kill something. Maybe himself. There's a bridge coming up in half a mile. He, very sanely, presses the button on the dash that turns it off instead of doing any of those things. The thought of Xichen has a voice of reason suggesting that he might meditate, while trapped here, 10 minutes from home.

Instead, he jabs a button on his fancy, stupid steering wheel with this thumb. An attentive computer noise beeps. The sudden noise in the relative silence of the car makes him dig his nails into the leather. "Text A-Huan," he snaps.

"Okay! What would you like the message to be?"

Jin Guangyao is going to find whoever programmed this faux-friendly robot voice and make them watch him drown their entire family in a toilet. "I. Hate. Everything."

Beep. "Okay! Your message reads; 'I hate everything'. Send?"

"Yes, send," he seethes before it can fully finish.

There is no plan to this. None at all. He just needs something real to sink his metaphorical teeth into. A reasonable anchor to reality to tell him whether or not he's being stupid and terrible for no reason at all.

Even though he already knows that he is.

The response returns in 43 seconds. Jin Guangyao had been counting. The cheery beep sounds just as the very stale green light turns yellow ahead. He presses the gas. "One message from A-Huan."

The light blinks red while he is only 1/4th of the way through the intersection. The lead car of the adjacent left turners beeps and he bares his teeth at her because he isn't fucking invisible, he's in a high profile gold Lexus and she had definitely seen him fucking coming. He stabs the button that makes the car read him the message.

"'Oh no. Bad day? Want to call? Blue heart emoji'," the female robot voice chirps in a butchery of his husbands words and no, no, he does not, because, at this point, it would simply be a minute long sustained scream of rage over literally nothing at all. He should have kept it to himself and found a quiet place to throw rocks at a wall or something until he wasn't such a repellant time bomb.

He does not reply because if he hears that robot voice again, he's going to commit vehicular homicide. And being arrested would not calm him down.

Finally, traffic parts and he pulls into his driveway--he notices how the bush on the side of the house's branches are creeping up to scrape the window of the kitchen and makes a mental note to send a curt text to the landscaper about his pruning habits. Why are they paying him several hundred dollars a month to let a stupid bush get unruly enough to damage the paint on his window trim?

When he slams his door shut, he hears a loud CLACK that announces that he has just closed his seatbelt in the door and lost the last tenuous thread of his temper. Heaving the door back, he plants his other hand up on the black plastic next to the window and smashes it shut again with all of his strength. Repeatedly. CLACK CLACK CLACK CLACK--Chunk.

Breath hissing between his teeth, he jerks his suit jacket straight, loosens his tie and stalks to the house. The garage door groans to life behind him. Xichen had been watching.

Perfect.

He's nowhere to be seen when Jin Guangyao slams through the backdoor like a vicious thundercloud, which is good and probably intentional, because it allows him to wrestle off his shoes, jacket, and tie in privacy. This does nothing to release any pressure, because it must be intentional wrestling--controlled and confined so he doesn't pop off a button or rip a seam or scuff the shining black leather. Now he's seething in their immaculate, state of the art kitchen, hating how the cold tile feels against his black dress socks and the fact that it smells like tea. Which is stupid. Because he likes tea. But not right now.

Stop being a piece of shit, he snarls at himself. You've already probably fucked up the car and Xichen doesn't deserve this. He balls up his fists so tightly that the bright pain from his nails sinking into his palms leaks up his arms. Be better.

He has no idea how to do that because he has no idea what is wrong.

Reason says to steer clear of Xichen until he can get a hold of himself and behave like a fucking adult. And in the early days of their relationship, he would have. He had. Whenever he got like this, he would shut down or not have inflicted himself on Xichen at all with a smooth lie, and no amount of prying would get anything useful out of him because he would not be a bother. There had been Talks. Long, extensive Talks about trust and love and wanting to take care of him. He had even believed some of them. That's how they can be married, now, years later--Xichen knowing just how close he is to this at all times. How thin his veneer of manners and pleasantries actually is. (He can't truly know, though, can he. If he knew how much none of it makes sense, there is no possible way someone as kind and intelligent as him would choose to stay.)

Xichen would purse his lips if he said this out loud; somewhere between exasperation and sad fondness. Jin Guangyao doesn't tell him, anymore. Most of the time because he doesn't actually think this.

This is not most of the time.

Yes, reason says that he should suck it up and become a human being before burdening Xichen.

But his husband has long, cool hands and soft eyes and a brilliant mind that can solve any problem just by holding it and maybe he just wants to be small and angry and ugly and pathetic and selfish in the comfort of his own home while someone reminds him that there have been, in fact, good things that have happened in his life and he had been, at one time, happy--believe it or not.

And if nothing else, it compounds his streak of bad decisions.

The smell of tea intensifies when he reaches their room. The curtains are drawn. It renders the deep, dusty blues of the bed spread and the armchair black and the aged gold accent pieces muted, except for where the warm light pouring from their open bathroom door paints them bright again. Xichen sits on the edge of their bed in the soft, expensive loungewear Jin Guangyao got him for his birthday last year, one ankle on his knee, watching him with eyes just as soft as he had been expecting. A mug of tea is tucked into his hand and a plate with round, lumpy shapes sits by his hip. Beside that lays spread out the absurdly oversized and absurdly soft heather gray shirt that Nie Huaisang had gifted to him as a joke but was, in fact, one of Jin Guangyao's guilty pleasure sleep shirts.

With his perfect voice and his perfect logic and his perfect way of being the only good thing on this entire, worthless planet, his husband says, "I think you need to scream into this pillow."

'This pillow' is, in fact, one of theirs, dark blue with a thread count that was higher than any savings he ever had in college, perched on a bundle of blankets that is the perfect size to throw himself upon like a sulking romance heroine. He hates it. Hates that this is known, that this might help.

So he fucking does it. He deliberately stalks around the bed, climbs up, smashes his face into the pillow and screams as loudly as he can. With every single ounce of rage in his body, curling him up like the shriveling of a raisin in fast forward, like the curling of a scorpion tail, like throwing up, wringing every last scant molecule of oxygen out of his lungs.

When the sound peters out and he has to drag in another breath, he curls tighter, the claws of his hands reaching over the top of the pillow to fist in his hair. It presses the plush of it firmer over his face and bites it until his teeth ring with dull pain, and his jaw aches and his head throbs and his eyes sting. His scalp burns from the pull on his hair and his throat is raw and tight.

Tearing himself away, finally, he gasps in a gulp of cooler air. Xichen has turned so he is now cross-legged at the foot of the bed, watching him with a mix of calm and understanding sympathy. "Lay down?"

There is a ragged, hollow hole in him that still has scraps of rage clinging to it like disgusting lichen--but the visceral, all consuming hate seems to have been absorbed by his pillow. So he lets himself roll sideways, eyes closing. Xichen gets off the bed--Jin Guangyao assumes, wearily, that he's putting down the tea mug and hopes that he uses a coaster--and then returns by knee walking up the bed to his side. Then, those cool hands he had been hoping for pick open the tiny hard buttons of his shirt. Each pop releases a a tension across his skin and he feels that he can breathe easier with every one.

Jin Guangyao can hear him breathing, slow and measured, through his nose and thinks that it's probably the most comforting sound that he's ever heard in his entire life--now that he's willing to be comforted. Able to be. The reminder of Xichen's continued existence is the only sound he will ever need to be calm again.

The button up is abandoned in favor of undoing his belt--breath, more of it, infiltrating him deeper and deeper--popping the button on his slacks, tugging them down his legs in a warm slide. The quiet clink of it being tossed somewhere. A closing quiet as Xichen leans in and presses his smooth lips to his forehead. Then the corner of his eyebrow. Then the bridge of his nose. Different points and planes of his face like he is unlocking a combination that will open him up and allow him to purge the rest of the awfulness that lingers.

What it mostly is is exhaustion, now. "A-Huan," he groans--whines. Ugh.

Before disgust at himself can settle in, his husband takes this as the invitation for what it is and kisses his mouth, gentle and slow. Jin Guangyao moves his mouth back, halfheartedly, mostly parting his lips to allow him access to do whatever. But all he does is kiss him chastely. Lovingly. He tastes like green tea. Then, Xichen murmurs against his lips, "Would you like a bath?"

He vents a negating grunt, lolling his head back and forth. Baths are so much work. Even when Xichen offered to wash his hair or read to him or even join him, you still had to keep it hot, you had to endure cold when you left, get yourself dry. Too much change, too much sensation and movement.

He should be shaking himself awake. He should be apologizing for his terrible, pointless mood. He should be trying to kiss him back, love him back, pay him back. Thank him.

Xichen merely lifts his hands and presses the heels of his palms into the hinges at Jin Guangyao's jaw, inexorably grinding the tension out of them. Jin Guangyao allows himself to melt. When those cool fingertips slide into his hair, he lets them tug him upright, so Xichen can slide off his button up and slip him out of his undershirt. He shivers against the chill of the bedroom air, but he doesn't feel a surge of utter hatred for the sensations so, well, that's something. In no time, Xichen has coaxed him into the oversized shirt, removed his socks and bundled him up against the padded headboard, tucked into Xichen's side.

Jin Guangyao allows this. He allows himself to allow the blanket to be tugged up over his bare legs, Xichen to tuck the warm mug of steaming mint tea into his hands, and wind his fingers through his hair. He closes his eyes and takes in a deep, shuddering breath before sighing it all out. Xichen's fingers rub soothing circles across his sore scalp.

"Open?"

He cracks one eye to see a cookie hovering at mouth level. It's too dim in the room to properly tell what kind it is, but because Xichen has been perfect in literally every other way, he simply obeys and bites down. Browned butter and sea salt and semi-sweet chocolate ooze across his tongue and the instant spike of sugar satisfaction warms his chest. Jin Guangyao chews with utter contentment, swallows, and opens his mouth again.

"Good?" Xichen's amused voice vibrates warmly through his chest as he indulgently feeds him another bite.

"Mm. Very. Did you make them?"

"I did, earlier today. I just got lucky with the timing." His nails scrape oh so gently across his scalp. "How are you doing?"

Instead of answering, Jin Guangyao blinks up at him and his sweet, kind, ridiculously gorgeous face that is graced by a light smile and a gold edge light from the bathroom.

"I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"Being terrible."

"You're never terrible."

"I was today. I think I fucked up the car."

Xichen chuckles, smile crimping to a knowing press. "I saw. It won't be a big deal. We'll deal with it later."

"...Thank you."

"Of course, A-Yao. Do you still hate everything?"

"Mm-nn." He snuggles down deeper against his ribs, looping an arm around Xichen's warm waist. He has the best husband in his arms, his dark-sweet scent is in his nose, chocolate on his tongue, and 1000 count sheets against his skin.

What is there to hate?

#I was in an exceptionally bad mood #so therefore I projected it onto JGY and made Xichen make it better #because that's what writers DO #There is no plot at all except my own journey of being in a better mood. I am now. But it is also 4:20 am. Oh well. You do what you can.#my stuff #my fic #xiyao #lxc #jgy #text #xiyao fanfic #completely unedited because that's how it goes #it's an errant thought and he doesn't mean it #brief suicide mention

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daegall · 3 years

Text

End of a day

pairing: Na Jaemin x reader

Genre: fluff, angst (?)

🎶: End of a day by Kim Jonghyun

Word count: 2.3k words (more than i planned jgsjjf)

Warnings: umm lots of fluff?? And sad jaemin :((

Network/s: @neoturtles

A/n: JFNSJFBJWBF UGHHHHH TUMBLR 😩😩😩😩 STOP BEING A BITCH PLS 😭😭😭😭😭 THIS IS HE SECOND TIME IM POSTING THIS 😃 enjoy it tho :)) it’s better than all my other works tbh so dint be too disappointed if you check the others :’)

Thousands of people work every day, tired and upset, and yet they get up the next day to do the exact same thing. That’s how life is. It seems like nobody has a problem with that, maybe it’s because they’ve become so accustomed to it, or maybe they don’t want to come out pathetic and weaker to others, but they just keep going. It’s amazing, really, the way the mind works. Some people want to come off as strong and hard to read, and others just want to make friends and have fun.

Perhaps you were both, but today, you were none. All you felt was tiredness and stress. All you wanted to do was rip off these painfully uncomfortable clothes and curl into bed next to Jaemin.

At last, you reach your home you share with Jaemin, opening the door as he texted you he would leave it unlocked for you. Sluggishly and with no care in the world, you fling your shoes somewhere around the shoe rack, launching your bag to the couch, “I’m home!” no reply. With a huff, you make a beeline towards your shared room, emotions getting worse with every step you take. You twist the knob to your room, pushing it open, “Jaemin, you in he-”

Reach out and cover my neck

Please massage my shoulder a little further down

All your moodiness fades away when you spot your tired boyfriend quietly sniffling into his palms, seating looking too uncomfortable, even the sight of it throws your clothes into despair. “Jaemin...” you slowly inch towards him, heart shattering when he lets out a sob. He’s still in his work suit, something you loved on him, but now it just looked like it was suffering him. “Jaemin, baby,” you gently place your hand on his messy hair, cooing and running your fingers through his delicate strands when he leans into your touch.

“Come on, let’s go change. You feel uncomfortable, don’t you?” You beckon him softly, picking his face up and swiping a thumb over his wet cheek. He gives you a tight nod, squeezing the last few tears out before standing up, enveloping your hand around his. This is what he came home for. Your comfort and reassurance.

Even if the sun has already risen at the end of a tiring day

Now that I close my eyes

Just when you unbutton the last button of his jacket and throw it somewhere behind you, Jaemin can’t help but lean down to place his lips softly onto yours with care. His lips are salty from his tears, but you really don’t mind when his kisses are so soft, unlike all the other teasing and a bit rough ones he gives in the day. You pull away slowly, grinning up at him. He finally feels what he’s been longing the whole day, relaxation and tranquility. It feels so perfect and so… you.

Within 5 minutes, all uncomfortable work clothes are long forgotten, only soft big tees that envelop you and lul you slowly to sleep. That’s what you plan to do, right after Jaemin’s done in the bathroom and is next to you.

By the time your eyes are drooping close, the bathroom door is open, and you spot Jaemin shaking his hands dry and wiping them on his shirt. He instantly climbs in next to you, rushing into burying his face into your neck snugly.

On my day when I close the door later than others

Playfully tickling the earlobe

Even if we've been in a different world all day

Because we are always together at the end of the day

“Hard day?” You mumble into his forehead, chuckling lightly when he nods his head aggressively. “Do you want to talk about it?” Jaemin sighs, “Not really. It’s just the usual, given more work than the others. It’s just frustrating me,” You let out a thoughtful hum, nodding and threading your fingers into his messy hair, “So it all finally got to you?” He nods once again, this time a bit softer as he pulls you closer to his body.

“That’s good to hear, that you didn’t suppress your feelings, I mean. It’s been so long since you’ve actually relaxed.” Jaemin grins, you can read him so well, it’s amazing how you can determine how he’s feeling just by how he eats his breakfast or how affectionate he’s been.

Your little shoulders, your two little hands

At the end of my tiring day, it becomes a cozy blanket

Good job, you worked really hard

It makes him guilty, how you know every single part of him, and yet he doesn’t even try to know your small habits and actions you do. But then, he knows about your slow steps in the evening when you come back home, and the way your frown turns up quickly, almost too quickly, too fake. ‘Oh my god, you haven’t been good either,’ he thinks, as he squeezes you to him, as if trying to get rid of all the guilt he felt.

“Have you been okay?”

You are alarmed at the sudden question, tilting your head down to give him a confused look, “What?” Jaemin places his hand on your face, this time it’s him who’s stroking your tear away. You didn’t even realize you were crying until you felt the moisture spreading on your cheek.

“You’re not having such a good day either, huh?” Quickly, you try to scoot away from your boyfriend and wipe harshly at your tears, but the second you wipe one aggressively, Jaemin stops you, instead sitting up and wiping them himself, “You’re suppressing it too much.”

A scoff falls from your lips, before you playfully shove him away, “Don’t copy me!” There is a moment of laughter, before the atmosphere falls quiet. Not even a few seconds later, Jaemin is scooping you up to his side, enveloping you into his chest, “I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner.” Instead of replying, you soften to his embrace, letting the last few tears finally release.

To you, my two hands with my blunt shoulders

I hope it will be a warm comfort at the end of your tiring day

I want to breathe with you naturally

Now you feel it, what Jaemin was yearning for when he came home, serene and pure ease. One of Jaemin’s hands tangles into your hair, fingers prodding soothingly on your scalp, his other hand venturing underneath your shirt to caress your bare skin with care. He was wrong. He did know every part of you, he knew perfectly what you wanted and when to give it. You inch closer to Jaemin, craving more of his warmth and touch.

He only coos at your eagerness, happily letting you cling onto him and bury your form into his hold. He places a tender kiss on your forehead, as if a silent reminder that he loves you. You shift in his hold, “Thank you,” your whisper felt soft, almost soothing against Jaemin’s skin, and he continues pressing quick, loving pecks all over your face, just as much until you giggle out at the lingering sensation when he finally stops.

You finally have the strength to look back up into Jaemin’s eyes, and you find nothing but clarified love and affection, no doubt you have those as well in your own.

Like the water in the bathtub that tightly embraces you

Warmly and completely

At the end of my embarrassing day full of clumsy mistakes

Are you waiting for me to be proud of you

The ambiance is everything soft, it feels comforting and like home, it feels like Christmas night, the ones where you just finally calm down from the buzzing day from before. For a second there, you almost forget about the hectic day you had previously, but honestly, all you want to do is thank it, without it you wouldn’t be here, you would most likely be still working.

Work is a bitch, you conclude, because even when you’re done with it for the day and want to take a break from it, you can’t, you can’t help but worry and think about the next time you encounter it, you want to finish it, but where is the end of it? Work will always be there to bring you back to the reality that you can’t slack off, you’ll get off track.

Now your thoughts were just getting out of hand, and you really hate work now.

“Baby, you’re overthinking, I can tell.” you shake your head, getting rid of the thoughts, “Sorry,” Jaemin chuckles lightly, caressing your cheek dearly, “No, I kind of am too.”

The conversation ends there, it’s like you don’t want to ruin the peaceful little aura you’ve created, opting to keep it as long as you can. Jaemin decides to revive the conversation, sliding down to relax and lay down on the bed, bringing you with him, “Tell me,” His eyes catch yours, almost pleading you to tell him, “Tell me what you were thinking about,”

“Well,” You start, “Work is just so inevitable, and honestly? It’s full of shit.” Jaemin chortles slightly at your choice of words, “Tell me about it.” You give him a mischievous look, “Like, no matter how much you hate it and don’t want it, you’re still gonna have to do it anyway, you basically can’t live without work.”

The small sigh doesn’t go unnoticed by Jaemin, as he pats your back comfortingly. “And whenever you want to just get over with it, you can’t. It’s still gonna be there again the next day or two. I don’t like it at all. Not one bit.”

Your boyfriend almost agrees, but stops. He should encourage you instead, he thinks.

“But hey, a the end if you work hard there will be a present waiting at home for you.” You roll your eyes, thinking it one of his corny jokes, but he continues, “At least that’s what I tell myself to get throughout the day, I get to see you again, that’s practically magical. Coming back home and tumbling into your hugs and kisses are literally soo perfect, it’s surreal, almost.”

Your little shoulders, your two little hands

At the end of my tiring day, it becomes a cozy blanket

Good job, you worked really hard

A big smile spreads across your lips, and you turn your head to look at Jaemin. He smiles at you, affirming his words, softly running his hands through your hair, “I know it’s really cheesy, but it works for me.”

Your perspective might change completely because of that, imagine just a hard ass day of work kicking your ass, tiring, and most likely emotional and full of breakdowns, and in return for dealing with all the shit, you get to relax and spend some time with Jaemin without any work interrupting you two, you might just want that every day.

You give him a bigger, more satisfied smile, “Okay, I’ll do that.”

To you, my two hands with my blunt shoulders

I hope it will be a warm comfort at the end of your tiring day

I want to breathe with you naturally

Jaemin is another breed, because who on earth would come up with that idea? Na Jaemin did. While others, and most likely you, think of all the bad things that happened throughout the day, Jaemin thought of the future, what’s happened has happened, if it was shit then so be it. But time with you could never be shit for him, he can’t find a single bit of it boring.

Despite being with him for so long, you can’t help but always be so mesmerized by him, he’s absolutely fascinating. The way he sees life is honestly on another level, a level that you want to reach and a level he will happily help you reach.

From now on, you decide, you will find the goods at the end of the day, you will work hard, maybe even extra hard, just to be happy at the end of the day when you meet Jaemin once again.

I can't cry as much as I want and I can't laugh as much as I want

At the end of a tiring day, if it’s next to you

You scream like a child and laugh like you pass your breath

I meet myself, who has become awkward too

So when the next day arrives, you work super duper hard, staying an extra hour to help Mark with his own work he struggles with (he’s not that good with technology) and even doing extra small tasks your coworkers ask you to do, which they found funny because usually, you reply with an excuse or simply turning it down, this was definitely a good thing.

And when you go back home, this time you’re about 3 times more exhausted, and 10 times more excited to finally meet Jaemin after a long day.

You bust the door open harshly, throwing your shoes messily at the shoe rack with a bright smile on your face.

“I’m home!”

Jaemin’s soft mop of hair peeks out from the kitchen, “Oh? Baby? How was-”

Suddenly, the air in his lungs gets knocked out from force, the force of you rushing into his arms. You feel it. The happiness. Jaemin was right, this feels victorious. You feel like you’ve won in life, you feel so accomplished.

Jaemin sighs, wrapping his arms around you and leaning his forehead on the top of your head, “I’m so proud of you.”

Good job, you worked really ahrd

You are my pride

#na jaemin x reader #na jaemin #na jaemin imagines #na jaemin fluff #nct dream #nct dream imagines #nct dream x reader #nct fluff #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct x reader #nct 127 #nct 127 imagines #nct u imagines #nct u #nct u x reader #nct u fluff #nct dream fluff #neoturtles

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babbushka · 3 years

Text

Change of Plan

Lawyer!Kylo x Reader

5k ; Mostly fluff. CW: Rivals/enemies, possessive behavior, name-calling (but in a playful way), NSFW (PIV, dirty talk, bathtub sex)

Available on AO3

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Of all the days to cancel a date on, Valentine’s Day really had to be the worst.

Not that you had been dating that guy or anything – what did people consider dating these days anyway? – you’d only seen him a couple times. Work made things hard, made dating hard, and as much as you hated to admit it, part of you was really looking forward to spending the holiday with someone.

So when the text came through that he’s so sorry but something came up, any and all excitement you had had went straight down the toilet.

Which is how you find yourself with your arms crossed over your chest, making your way down the sidewalk at three in the afternoon, doing some sort of walk of shame. Of course you were on the way to the meet-up spot when you got the text, wanting to be there early to compose yourself and get those butterflies in your stomach to calm the fuck down. If you didn’t care so much about punctuality, you might be in bed still right now, nursing your feelings with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s.

If you didn’t care so much, you might be in the safe warm comfort of your apartment, instead of being so exposed like this. The thought only becomes more prevalent in your mind when those butterflies turn to anchors in your stomach, your mood only sinking further, as a familiar black car pulls up to you.

“Hey!” The window rolls down, and you hold your breath and will yourself not to look so obviously just-gotten-dumped-on-valentines-day-even-though-we-weren’t-even-dating.

“What the fuck do you want, Kylo?” You sigh, trying not to shiver. February in Manhattan wasn’t exceptionally freezing but you had definitely dressed for aesthetics over practicality – just another thing to make you feel like shit about it all.

Kylo, as ever, looks perfectly handsome.

It’s infuriating.

“Get in the car.” He calls to you from the backseat, the driver going at a slow enough pace to match your speed.

You don’t stop walking, even though the offer is tempting. What was he even doing there in your part of town, didn’t he have the case to prepare for? Shaking your head, you wave him off.

“No, I – I want to walk.” You swallow around the sound of your voice breaking, hating the way your eyes are betraying you. Kylo hears it anyway, and you brace yourself for him to make fun of you for it, but the taunting teasing mocking jokes never come.

Instead, he rolls his eyes at your stubbornness, and says something to his driver because the car stops then, and Kylo opens the car door, standing outside it and gesturing for you to come in. You notice that he’s dressed exceptionally well; sporting one of his nicer suits, winter light from the sun reflecting off his shiny black Allen Edmonds.

“The forecast says rain, you’ll get soaked.” He argues, and you hate him, hate how he’s right.

Steeling yourself with a big deep breath – because you are not going to cry in front of Kylo fucking Ren – you make your way over to him, barely able to look him in the eye as you slide into the backseat of his car. Happily, Kylo sits himself nice and close to you, closes the door, and at once, the driver pulls back onto the main road, matching speed with the other vehicles.

Kylo opens his mouth, and you smack a hand over it before he can even take a breath in, leveling him with a dark glare and threatening, “Before you say anything, I want you to know that I cannot handle any criticism in this moment.”

“I wasn’t planning on criticizing you.” Kylo shakes his face a little to get your hand to fall off his mouth, and you aren’t so sure you believe him.

“Then what are you here for?”

“I’m taking you out.”

Blinking, you stare at him. Was this some kind of joke? But the more you look at him, the more it makes sense. Belatedly, you realize he must have been on his way to your house, because he was driving the same direction you were walking. The nice suit, the shined shoes, the freshly done hair…hell he had even trimmed up his goatee.

“Excuse me?” Is all you can ask, wondering what this is, what kind of angle he’s coming at you with. Because with Kylo, there’s always an angle.

He shrugs, scratches at a spot underneath his chin and casts a glance down to his lap, and you for a moment think he might be…nervous. Well, sincerity certainly wasn’t the angle you had been expecting.

“It’s Valentine’s Day, and people tend to go out to celebrate.” Kylo is distracting with the way he talks, hands gesturing all over, masking a flash of vulnerability in his tone with sarcasm as he continues, “And I figured if you’re the only woman in New York City who isn’t out celebrating, you’re going to be a real fuckin’ bitch on Monday when we go to trial, so, here I am.”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re terrible at being romantic?” You mutter, your heart pounding in your chest so loud that you’re sure he can hear it.

Cracking a wide grin, he taps the underside of your chin with his knuckles, before reaching forward to grab a big bouquet of red roses from the front passenger seat, careful not to disturb the petals as he pulls them over the center console and hands them to you.

“Look I even brought you flowers and everything – not to be romantic don’t go getting heads over heels or anything; some schmuck was giving them away for free down the road, I figured you’d like them better than them ending up in the garbage.” Kylo’s mouth runs faster than your mind can process it as you’re presented with the flowers, and if you hadn’t sworn to hate him for all eternity, you might have leaned in to kiss him right there.

“You figured right.” You smile, trying to remember when the last time anyone bought you flowers that wasn’t your secretary congratulating you on another case won, and fully accept the idea of a night out with Kylo by asking, “So, where are we going?”

With that go ahead, the driver speeds up a little more, makes a couple right turns. Kylo doesn’t tell you, just slings an arm around your shoulders and keeps his plan a secret. Those damned butterflies are back, and wouldn’t you know it they’re better than ever, and you can’t help but think that you’re lucky you were already dressed. It’s then that you evaluate what it is that you’re actually wearing.

On the date that never was, it was supposed to just be some wine tasting thing, so you had put on a beautiful dress that showed off all your favorite assets, as it were, and a pair of shoes that looked nice, but weren’t really meant for any sort of outdoor activity. Hoping beyond hope that Kylo wasn’t an outdoorsy sort of fella, you let yourself lean into him as the car zips through the Manhattan streets.

That hope slowly starts to die, once Central Park starts to come into view, and you realize that whatever he’s decided for his surprise is definitely not going to be conducive to these heels.

“Don’t worry, we’re not running or anything.” Kylo senses your mild stress, and with that, lies straight to you as the car slows down to a halt, and he grabs your hand and pulls you in a light jog into the park.

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

Central Park is, as it always tends to be, bustling with people. It’s not quite late enough in the day, or cold enough outside for it to be a more secluded spot – if anything in Manhattan ever is. You clutch the bouquet of roses to your chest, having forgotten to leave them in the car, as Kylo forgets to give you back your hand, the both of you chuckling and out of breath.

“Destination number one.” Kylo gestures grandly to a bench, when he stops jogging after a few minutes, once you’re deep inside Shakespeare Garden, making you give him a funny look.

“There’s more than one?” You ask, wondering just how involved this whole evening was going to be.

“Don’t ask stupid questions.” Kylo replies with a cheeky grin, before bringing you closer to the bench.

When he said this was the first destination, you had thought he was referring to the park, but as you come closer, you recognize this bench as the famed Whisper Bench, mostly because there’s a couple of people already trading secrets there. It’s made entirely out of concrete, twenty feet long and curled on each end.

Kylo waits politely until they leave, and then he’s leading you by the hand to one side of the bench, jogging over to the other end.

Like the people before you, you each bend over and cup your hands around your mouth.

“You want to go first?” You whisper, wondering if it’s really true, that your words will travel across the bench and reach him.

You don’t have to wonder though, not for very long anyway, because soon after his deep baritone is shooting across the bench, making your cheeks heat with something too close to affection for you to ignore it, especially when his big secret is, “You look very beautiful tonight.”

“You’re not half bad either.” You send back to him, making him grin with all of his crooked teeth.

There are people waiting for you to be finished, so Kylo comes back around the other side of the bench, and breaks out into a sprint the second he has a hold of your hand once more, making you yelp and laugh as he tugs you along to the next spot on his list.

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

From 79th street, he brings you to 64th, where you’re faced with the charming little Chess & Checkers House. It’s in the children’s district, but thankfully there aren’t too many children around. The octagonal building is surrounded by twenty-four permanent tables that have inlaid boards.

“Put the flowers there so no one takes the table.” Kylo instructs, and you do as he says, along for the ride.

“We’re playing chess?” Your eyes widen happily, and Kylo immediately recoils in a cartoonish way, shaking his head and making you sigh with exasperation.

“No fucking way, you’d kick my ass in a heartbeat.” He says, making those butterflies go crazy once again. Kylo walks up to the window of the little building, “We’re playing something I have a more even playing field on – one checkers set please.”

“Oh you’re so on.” You grin, taking him up on his challenge.

You set up the table, giving him black and keeping red for yourself. After three games, it becomes incredibly evident very early on, that Kylo has no idea how to play checkers. Taunting him the entire time – because really, who doesn’t know how to play checkers? – you collect your wins easily and smugly.

It felt good to win, that’s the whole reason you became a lawyer in the first place after all, but it felt especially good to win against your arch rival. The fourth game ends when you eventually take over the board, using a few strategic moves that have him completely pissed off.

“You can’t just do that!” He protests, the vein in his neck jumping out, as you jump over three of his pieces and turn your piece into a queen for the second time in a row.

“Of course I can! Don’t be such a sore loser.” You roll your eyes, but he’s not having it.

“You’re a fucking cheater I don’t know why I thought this would be a good idea.” Kylo takes all the pieces off the board and shoves them into the small box that they came in, angrily muttering to himself, “Making up rules as you go along and all this bullshit.”

“I won fair and square and you know it. Consider it a prologue for our case on Monday.” You rest your chin in your hand, watching with satisfaction as he scoffs and grumbles all the way back to the small octagonal house to return the pieces with the shame of losing four games in a row.

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

Not far away at all down 65th street is the next stop on Kylo’s route, and you almost don’t believe that this is where he means to take you, when you stop your giggly jogging in front of the carousel. It’s getting pretty dark outside, between the rain forecast and the short winter days, which only lets the lights from inside the carousel shine brighter.

The golden inviting warmth of the lights blink and pulse along with music that plays, and standing there in line, with this big bouquet of roses, half of which have lost the majority of their petals just from all your running around, makes you feel like you’re in some kind of romcom.

Kylo lets you go in front of him, a hand on your waist as you take the big step up, immediately seeking out the perfect horse to claim as your own. You know that there’s two-seater options, but nothing beats the classic design of a galloping horse.

“Aren’t you going to sit?” You ask him once the carousel begins to spin, and he remains standing next to you, one hand on a golden pole to steady himself, the other resting gently on your thigh.

“And break one of these things? I don’t think so. The last thing I need is for the park to sue me.” He jokes, and you laugh at that, my my how would the tables have turned in that case.

“You made a good call, it’s chilly up here.” The movement of the carousel has the wind biting at your face, and at once your hands come across your chest to warm up the tops of your arms through your dress.

“I was wondering why the fuck you didn’t bring a coat.” Kylo immediately begins to fuss with you so you don’t go falling off the damn horse.

“I hadn’t planned on being outside today!” You defend yourself and your poor choice of attire as the carousel horse moves up and down, making it harder and harder for Kylo to get his hands on you, in turn making the two of you laugh.

“Yeah yeah, a likely story I’m sure – take my jacket.” He gives up trying to warm you up himself, and instead shucks off the thick wool jacket and drapes it around your shoulders.

It’s an intimate gesture, one that you’re not so sure how to take. You and Kylo hated one another, really loathed each other’s existence. Every day you thought about him and got a headache, and you knew he felt the same way. He had said as much, even. Kylo was a ruthless, terrible, awful, handsome, funny, charming…oh sonofabitch.

“But…then you’ll be cold.” You whisper, watching as the twinkling lights shine and shimmer in his big brown eyes, wondering when he got so close.

“So?” Kylo whispers back, holding a hand out for you to take when the carousel comes to a halt.

With his jacket around your shoulders, you don’t hesitate to take that hand, once again conveniently forgetting to let go of it even when both of your feet are firmly planted on the ground.

“Are you hungry?” He asks, once you’re both off the carousel and are walking a little less purposefully, just meandering down the park.

“I could go for some hot chocolate if there’s a place around.” You appreciate the question, finding that you don’t want the evening to end just yet. Not yet, not when you’re having so much fun.

Kylo must be thinking the very same, because his face lights up, and you can practically see the gears turning around and around in his head as he nods, “I know just the spot.”

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

People in the park were so smart, you decide as a vendor hands you one of those eco-friendly paper cups filled nearly to the brim with piping hot cocoa. Big marshmallows float gently and melt steadily as you take a loud sip and thank the man while Kylo pays. How the hell Kylo knew this guy would be here, you don’t know, but knowing Kylo, you wouldn’t be surprised if he had the guy’s number on speed dial or something.

It’s quiet, in this little spot of the park. As it gets darker and colder, more people start to head back to their own homes. You know too that realistically, you will have to go back to your apartment as well, so you take small, deliberate sips of your cocoa, hoping to draw out the time left.

Kylo is quiet, sipping on his cocoa too. You wonder if he’s thinking all the same things, if he’s dragging it out so that he doesn’t have to say goodbye yet either. You wonder where his driver is, what that poor sap is doing while you and Kylo dance around each other like this.

He keeps stealing glances at you, and you keep pretending to ignore them. Yes the sun has officially gone down beyond the skyline, and yes you’re probably colder than you should be comfortable with, even with his jacket around your arms, comically too large for you. Yes the flowers have all but wilted completely from the wind and the running, and yes your feet are killing you.

But you don’t want it to end, not yet.

Never in a million years did you think you’d have so much fun with Kylo of all people – never in a million years did you think you’d be so glad to have a date cancel on you. Who the hell needed a wine tasting anyway? You knew what wines you liked and didn’t like. Even though you were both well into adulthood, being with Kylo tonight made you feel like a kid again, in that sense that you hadn’t had this kind of fun in a long time.

It is at that moment, that the sky opens up completely, and rain begins to fall in freezing cold sheets, all at once. Shouting out of surprise, the two of you are shocked, and it’s all you can do to not drop the cocoa and somehow freeze and burn yourself simultaneously.

“Shit, let’s get out of here!” Kylo breaks the silence by saying, and you agree at once, the two of you running running running through the trail, looking for a place to take some shelter.

In the dark, it’s hard to find such a place, so Kylo cuts through a shortcut path that he knows, that has you popping out on the other side of the park, through a big gate and onto the street. No more than a few seconds go by, before his car pulls up, and Kylo practically yanks the door open, pushing you in quickly and climbing in behind you.

The two of you exchange glances, soaked to the bone, and burst out laughing, shivering and trying to warm your hands by the heater. The car seems too small then, seems like there’s no space for the both of you. You’re acutely aware of how his leg is pressing up against your own, how his bicep nudges yours, how his face is practically right up against yours, as you both turn towards one another to get near the heater.

“What did you have in mind now?” You whisper, and you’re not sure, but you think that you can see him swallow nervously.

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

When Kylo’s car pulls up outside the Baccarat, you really wish that the rain hadn’t ruined both of your outfits. No one seems to mind the two of you dripping on the floor of the lobby, as Kylo exudes all the confidence of New York City’s top prosecutor, but you certainly wish that you looked less like a drowned rat.

A key is slid across the counter, and into the elevators you and Kylo go, stealing little glances back and forth, looking away shyly when you’re caught. Eventually, the doors open again, and it’s a short walk to one of the most beautiful suites you’ve ever seen.

“You don’t get to say I’m not romantic ever again.” Kylo smirks, and you’d smack him for that if you weren’t still taking everything in.

Not only is the room beautiful just because it’s a luxury hotel, but Kylo must have gotten some sort of romance Valentine’s Day package, because the room is completely filled with tasteful and elegant décor.

On a silver bar cart that’s been wheeled into the sitting area of the room, there’s a bucket of champagne and crystal glasses. Gourmet chocolates in a satin box sit next to it, as does a small wrapped present that you’re dying to open at some point. Cashmere robes are laid out neatly on the massive bed, and large spherical rose bouquets are placed all over the surfaces, complete with rose petals leading to the bed from the room’s front door.

“Bubble bath?” Kylo offers, and you give him a knowing smile, grateful to both be warm, and to be naked with him.

His body never fails to make your eyes wander, you think. Between how hard he works and antagonizing you, you wonder when he ever has the time to work out, because surely he must work out. Kylo’s solid and strong in a way that makes you feel absolutely primal, and as he helps you step into the steaming water of the bathtub, you don’t think you’ve ever felt more safe.

“We have a five-course dinner coming.” Kylo murmurs softly as he settles in behind you, pulling your back to lean against his chest as he grazes his lips against your ear, “And breakfast in bed tomorrow, among other things.”

“What would you have done if I had plans?” You ask as you chuckle and lean more fully against him, scooping up some of the thick frothy bubbles and blowing them into the air.

“I would have convinced you to ditch them.” Kylo says right away, making you roll your eyes.

“You’re so smug."

“I think I’ve earned it.”

You can’t argue with him on that, as much as you love arguing with him. Kylo kisses along your shoulder, up up up to the edge of your jaw, your cheek, making his way to your temple as your bodies soak in the hot water of the tub and you get the chance to simply relax and be together.

“You know, I almost had plans.” You bring up softly, the sting of rejection not hurting so badly anymore. In fact, you pretty much forgot about the date that never was, and you’re not so sure why you’re bringing it up now. Maybe because you can admit that this was a better Valentine’s Day than you could have ever hoped for.

“I do know.” Kylo splashes his hand in the water for a little while, before dropping the unexpected admission of, “I asked him to cancel.”

Water sloshes over the side of the tub with the speed at which you turn to shoot your eyebrows up at him, mouth dropping open in surprise.

“What? Really? Why?” The demanding questions fall from your lips at once, the thoughts in your head coming to a screeching halt.

“I haven’t been planning this night for ages for some nobody in copyright law to come in and fuck it up.” Kylo has no hint of regret in his voice, and that catches you up. “Are you mad?”

Instead of answering him, you lean in and wrap your arms around his neck, your lips crashing onto his. It’s possessive, to a degree that you should be mad about, but…but you’re just not. In fact, you feel the complete opposite of mad, you feel relieved. Kylo wasn’t just taking you out on some pity date, he wasn’t just trying to get you to not be such a bitch on Monday, no he had planned this out.

For weeks, possibly even a month, to get a reservation like this, Kylo had planned to surprise you. It was incredibly sweet, so as you kiss him hard and slip your tongue into his mouth, as his hands smooth around your back, cradle the base of your skull, hold you close, no – no you’re not mad.

Needing to be closer to him, you straddle his lap, as the kisses turn deeper, more passionate. Kylo’s hand tangles through your hair and crushes you to him, soft groans and grunts spilling out of his throat. Chest heaving as you gulp down breaths, you gasp as your nipples brush against his pecs, and stiffen at the contact. Kylo swallows down the sound, nips at your lips, gets them swollen and kiss-bitten.

“Fuck me?” You ask breathlessly, and Kylo grins with all those teeth of his again, and you let him manhandle your legs to better support yourself on either side of his thick waist.

“Sit on my cock baby, let me do the hard work.” He encourages, and you moan as you do just that.

The hot water helps relax you, but you’re not nearly stretched enough to take him in one fell swoop, so you let your head tip back, mouth open as you moan and slide down onto his cock inch by inch, hands bracing on his chest, letting gravity help.

“Goddamn you’re big, Kylo.” You moan, and he puffs up with pride in a way that you regret feeding his ego, but not really.

“You can take it, you’ve done it before pretty thing.” He’s focused, focused on making you feel good, and he’s good at it.

Kylo lets one of his hands slip down to rub at your clit just enough to get your thighs trembling, legs spreading to sink further down onto his cock, pulling out the sweetest whines and moans out of you. He sits up against the wall of the tub, one hand on your hip holding you steady as he rubs his fingers against you under the water, and that’s a good thing because when he does finally bottom out inside of you, you slip on the floor of the tub a little.

“I’ve got you,” he assures you, leaning forward to press kisses all across your breasts, smothering praise into your flesh, “Good girl, just relax for me.”

It’s hard to relax when he feels so fucking good, and you tell him as much, making him chuckle. But then he’s planting his feet and lifting his hips, fucking his cock up into you, and you can’t tell him much of anything at all.

“Oh fuck,” You sigh happily, eyes rolling back into your head as you ride him, “Yes – yesyesyes Kylo -- !”

“Did you – fuck keep squeezing my cock baby – did you really fucking think you’d have a good time with whatever his name is?” Kylo asks darkly, possessively, as he thrusts into you with a rhythm that has you gripping the side of the tub, body rocking back and forth, covered in bubbles that stick and pop all over you.

“No,” You whine, “But dammit you haven’t spoken to me since last – oh! Oh yes, yes please Kylo.”

He’s managed to find your gspot like this, and fucks up against it with each thrust of his cock, the head pressing and rubbing against it back and forth and back and forth, making your eyes roll back into your head, your toes curling under the water.

“Just because I didn’t tell you – this pussy is so tight holy shit -- I was taking you out doesn’t mean I wasn’t planning on it.” Kylo says, and you don’t even know what the fuck he’s talking about anymore, especially as he latches his mouth to your throat and sucks bruises and marks into your flesh.

“Well – Ah! – well next time warn a fucking woman, would you?” You swat at his arm, your thighs working to bounce on his cock, sweat and steam curling around you, making your bodies stick to one another as the both of your hands slip and slide all over, wanting to touch and pinch and grab.

His cock spears through you in the most delicious way, your cunt throbs and pulses around it, the moans and gasps and sighs and grunts of pleasure sing through your bodies. You and Kylo don’t have sex often – but every time it’s like this, every time it makes you wonder how you could do anything else in the world, other than get fucked by him.

“If I – fuck baby, fuckfuckfuck – if I told you it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?” He grunts, and that’s all the warning that you get before he’s coming.

You can feel the hot load of it spreading through your body, and you whine, desperate to come too, digging your nails into the muscle of his shoulder as he fucks you through his own orgasm. You’re so close, just on the precipice of bliss, just a little longer, a little more – and then he’s dropping a hand to your clit once again, and that’s enough to send you over the edge.

“You’re such an asshole.” Resting your head on his chest, you press a kiss to the sweaty line between his pecs, and melt against him as your orgasm ripples and shakes through you.

Kylo being the most insufferable man on the planet, only tucks some of your hair behind your ear and presses a kiss to the top of your head. His hands trace patterns against your back under the water, and there’s a distinctly teasing sort of softness in his words, the kind where you can practically hear the smug smile in his voice, as he wishes you a, “Happy valentine’s day sweetheart.”

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

Tagging some pals! @mochabucky @sacklerscumrag @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions @direnightshade @reyloaddict55 @thembohux @kylorenswhxre @sunflowersinthesnow @babayagakeanu @safarigirlsp @rennasiance-mama @steeevienicks @mousemakingjam @the-unmanaged-mischief @materialisthicc @drake-bells-waxed-penis @dutchiepie @slut-for-harri @littleevilme13 @erys-targaryen @leillaa

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren/reader #kylo ren x you #kylo ren fanfic #kylo ren smut #valentines day #adam driver fanfic #adcu #my writing #kylo ren/you #lawyer!kylo ren #lawyer au

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anagentinwriting · 3 years

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Lifeline - Part 11

Summary: (First Responders!AU) Moving to Los Angeles and living with your brother, Thor, was never part of your plan nor was being a 9-1-1 dispatcher, but plans change when you are faced with your own emergencies. In your case, it was leaving behind a relationship that wasn’t as perfect as it seemed. Will this be the fresh start you were hoping for or will your past find a way to catch up with you?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Odinson!Sister Reader

Word Count: 2500+

Warnings: Heart attack, fluff, angst, language

Lifeline Masterlist / Main Masterlist

It was a slow day at the call center, which was a good thing, and you couldn’t help but wonder what Steve was planning. Earlier, he texted you, asking if you wanted to get lunch together, and you accepted. It’s been a couple of weeks since you hung out and had a movie night, but since then, you’ve hung out a few other times at your house watching movies and talking. It was innocent fun, nothing serious, two friends enjoying each other’s company. But, you did fall asleep on him one night after a late shift, but luckily, he didn’t seem to mind. Neither of you labeled them as dates because neither of you were looking for a relationship. You both joked about them being dates though, but they never blossomed into anything, even though one night you hoped they would.

Your phone line ringing pulled you from your daydream. “911, what’s your emergency?”

“Um...my daddy can hardly breathe?”

“Okay, hold on for a second, sweetie.” The address popped right up since she was calling from a landline and you dispatched an ambulance to their location. It was much easier to send help when they called from landlines; cell phones were tricky because you needed to go through the carrier if you needed to get their exact location. “The ambulance is on their way.”

“Good...they need to get here real fast,” the little girl said in a calm voice.

“Okay, sweetie, what’s your name?

“Duranna Dey. My daddy’s name is Rhomann Dey.”

“Okay. How old are you, Duranna?

“I am five years old.”

“Okay, Duranna, I need to know if your father is still awake?”

“Yeah. He called 911-- then couldn’t really talk--he gave me the phone then.”

“Your dad is a smart man. Duranna, is your front door unlocked?”

“Uh…is our front door unlocked, Daddy? Uh, no.”

“Okay, Duranna, can you go and unlock the front door for me?”

“Sure…okay, I am going to go. Don’t worry, Daddy!” You heard shuffling over the line. “Front door unlocked.”

“That’s good, Duranna. Now can you go ask your dad if this has ever happened to him before?”

“Yeah,” she said as you heard shuffling through the phone. “Dad, has this ever happened before? He says no, and he is still awake.”

“Good. Can you ask him if he has any kind of chest pain?”

“Do you have chest pain? Yes, yes, he does.”

“Okay, hold on for a second, okay, Duranna.”

“Okay,” she replied.

You radioed the paramedics over your headset and told them the situation so they would know what they were walking into upon their arrival.

“I’m back, Duranna. Is he still awake?”

“Yeah, we’re in our jammies. Is that going to be okay, or should we get changed?”

“No, that will be fine,” you smiled at her question. “I need you to stay with your dad to make sure he stays awake.”

“Okay. I got it. Stay calm, Dad.” You could hear sirens coming over the line. “They are here now; should I hang up?”

“Yes, Duranna, you can hang up.”

“Okay, thank you, bye.”

The line went dead, and you couldn’t help but smile. Duranna was one strong, calm, brave little girl in her given situation, where some adults wouldn’t be. It was surprising, and you couldn’t help but praise her parents. You sighed, taking off your headset and setting it on the table as you went on your lunch break.

When you walked out of your building, you saw Steve standing outside holding onto a leash with a beautiful golden retriever attached to it. You smiled, walking right up to them and crouched down to pet him.

“Awww, you must be Cosmo,” you cooed, scrunching up his face in your hands, and quickly licked your cheek. “You’re so cute, yes you are.”

“He wanted to meet you. Wouldn’t shut up about it all morning,” Steve grinned under his baseball cap.

“Well, it is lovely to meet you, too,” You added, bopping him on the nose. You stood up, smiling at Steve. “What are we doing for lunch?”

“Since I brought Cosmo, I thought we could take a stroll through the park. I know there are a few food trucks in the area we could check out.”

“Sounds fun,” you smirked, walking next to Steve with Cosmo out in front. “How has Cosmo been adjusting?”

“He’s doing better. He’s a little off at certain times during the day, but the vet says it’s pretty normal, and it’s all a part of the process.”

“Well, he looks happy.” You let out a soft chuckle, watching Cosmo look around with his tongue hanging out. “And he is so cute.”

“Thanks for the compliment. You know dogs do take after their owners,” he winked, forcing you to roll your eyes.

“Okay, wise guy,” you scoffed, nudging him in his side. “How’s Station 107?”

Steve cleared his throat. “Your brother gave me permission to ask you out a while ago, and he keeps reminding me about it.”

You chuckled. “Did he? Clearly, he doesn’t know how much of a guy you are.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You come off all innocent, but let’s be real, you’re a real troublemaker.”

“I will neither confirm nor deny that information,” he chuckled, waving it off as you shake your head at him.

“It’s crazy how he gave you permission, yet you haven’t done anything about it?” You questioned, narrowing your eyes at him. “And here's Cosmo, who by the way I just met, and he has already gotten further with me than you have.”

“That hurts.” Steve feigned a pained look, holding his hand over his heart. “In my defense, I didn’t want you to feel pressured or pushed into something you weren’t ready for.”

“You never did, and that’s what makes you a good man, Steve,” you confessed, seeing his signature smirk spread across his face. “But, my life is enough of a mess as it is, and I wouldn’t expect you or anyone else to try and take that on.”

“That’s not it at all. I’m not worried about what happened in your past. I mean, I hate what you had to go through, but it’s never going to scare me off.”

You had no words. No comeback. All you could do was smile. You reached over and grabbed a hold of his hand. “Friends, hold hands, right?”

“Yeah, last time I checked,” he grinned, squeezing your hand. You felt your face heat up under his gaze as you looked away. You tried to weld your lips together, but it was no use. You had a feeling a smile would be plastered on your face all through lunch.

You and Steve settle on getting Mexican at Wade’s Chimichangas truck when you noticed the other truck was an ice cream truck. You stood in line and noticed the guy taking orders was very chatty and looked oddly similar to Ryan Reynolds.

“Next, oh, and what a cute couple you two are,” the Ryan Reynolds look-alike said. “I’m Wade, owner of Wade’s Chimichangas. Oh, and this sugar bear with the mustache behind me is Peter W. He saw my want ad in the paper, and he was an instant hire.” He smiled, but then it quickly turned into a frown. “This is actually the second time I hired him, the first time is when I hired him to be a part of X-force, and he died early on. Then, I time-traveled back in time after stealing this special watch from your universe's Thanos and brought Peter back to life at the end. Oops, spoiler alert,” he shrugged, staring at the empty space beside you.

“I’m sorry,” Steve asked, furrowing his eyebrows as he tried to gauge the situation.

“Sorry,” he smiled. “This--” he twirled his finger in the air “--this is the wrong universe. Well, that universe technically doesn’t exist anymore since Mickey Mouse bought out Fox, and I’m not talking about the cute fox from Fox and the Hound either. No siree, this Fox was more expensive than my favorite shoe company’s net worth.” He shook his head back and forth, chuckling. “It’s going to be crazy fun! My place is safe and secure, but can’t say the same for that Australian Showman.” He nodded but stopped when a realization dawned on him. “Oh wait, dammit, he got out a few years too early. What a shame, he’s gonna miss out on some really big paychecks, but who cares about that guy anyway,” he signed. “Anyways, what can I get you two?”

“I’ll take the Almost Famous Chimichanga with rice,” Steve ordered.

“Oh, being safe and not going with beans, smart move, Captain,” Wade replied with a wink. “And for the lady and canine?” You gave Wade your order and ordered Cosmo a simple taco.

“Cosmo doesn’t need a taco,” Steve added, shaking his head.

“So, no taco for the canine? I am taking copious notes here.” You looked to Wade to see him licking his lips with a pen and small notebook pad in his hand.

“Yes, taco,” you answered, and Cosmo barked.

“Majority wins. Fire up the stove, Peter. It will be a couple of minutes, folks,” Wade announced. “If only there was a superpower to make food. I mean, he or she, I’m not sexist, could solve world hunger with just a flick of their wrist or magic wand.”

“Wow, that guy must be going through something,” Steve uttered loud enough for you to hear as you both moved down the side of the truck to the pickup area.

“Captain, you have no idea,” Wade looked over his shoulder and shot you both a tight smile. “Am I right, Peter?”

“He is,” Peter nodded, placing an order on the serving counter. “Order for the lovely couple and a taco for the gorgeous golden retriever.

“Thanks, Peter.” You pulled your wallet from your purse, but when you looked up, Steve was already handing Peter some cash.

“My treat,” he replied, answering your silent question.

“Next time, it’s on me.”

“Deal,” Steve smirked, getting his change back from Peter.

“Is he a Purebred?” Peter asked, looking down at Cosmo with a smile.

“I’m not sure I rescued him.”

“That’s incredible. My wife, Susan, and I thought about adopting, but she’s been training hard with her personal trainer, Gus, a few times a week, so we weren’t sure if we were ready for a dog. I mean, some of the workouts can last like four hours, but it is doing wonders for her, and it shows.”

“Well, when you both feel ready, give adoption a chance.”

“I will. I’m sorry to keep you from your date with all the questions.”

“Hey, it’s alright,” Steve waved it off. “That’s how you keep customers coming back, right?”

“That’s right,” Peter chuckled. “Thanks for choosing Wade’s Chimichangas. Have a good afternoon, folks.”

You grabbed your’s and Cosmo’s baskets, and Steve grabbed his, making your way over to the open benches near the sidewalk. You plopped down with Steve taking the spot next to you, and Cosmo sat right in front of you, wagging his tail and waiting for his taco. You smirked at him, tearing off a piece and giving it to him.

“Are you getting the feeling that Susan is cheating on Peter, too?” Steve asked, taking a bite of his chimichanga.

“Yes, I thought I was the only one thinking that,” you answered, shaking your head. “Poor guy, he seems like a good one, too.”

A comfortable silence fell between you two as you ate. It was tasty, better than you expected it would be; you weren’t sure if it was the seasoning or sauce, but you would be a returning customer. Cosmo whined, staring into your eyes as you tore off another piece and gave it to him.

Steve smirked. “You’re gonna teach him to be a beggar.”

“Don’t listen to your dad. If you want to be a beggar, you be a beggar.” You patted him on the head, and he licked your hand.

“Wow,” Steve mouthed, making you hit him on the arm. He cracked a contagious smile, leaning into you, and you couldn’t help but laugh as you pushed him off you.

“You’re such as ass sometimes.”

“I am one of LA’s finest asses according to Sam,” he replied, forcing you to scoff.

_______

Taking the last bite of your lunch, you glanced at Steve, finishing off his chimichanga. He wiped his lips with his napkin and winked at you. You rolled your eyes, leaning forward and rubbing Cosmo on the head. You didn’t want to go back to work. All you wanted to do was hang out with Steve and Cosmo for the rest of the day. You sighed, looking down at your watch.

“Should we start heading back?” Steve inquired, placing a hand on your forearm. You looked at his hand, a shy smile appearing on your face.

“Uh yeah, we probably should.”

He stood up, offering his hand, which you took without hesitation. He squeezed your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, sending a warm, comforting sensation flow through your body. You could feel your face grow warm as you stared at Cosmo walking in front of you. You bit your lip, peeking over at Steve, not missing the smirk you were beginning to love appear across his lips.

________

He pulled you to stop in front of your building, letting go of your hand, and you turned to face him. “Thanks for getting lunch with me and for bringing Cosmo. It was nice to meet him.” You smiled down at the dog, wagging his tail with his tongue hanging out.

“I think he enjoyed meeting you, too,” He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Listen, I don’t know if you’ve heard about this yet, but there is this first responders charity grill out slash softball tournament this weekend. I was wondering if...”

“Yeah,” you interrupted him. “Thor already invited me, and I was planning on going.”

“Cool.” He nodded, clenching his jaw. “But, I was curious if you wanted to be my date?”

You rubbed your lips together, a smile itching its way across your lips. “Did you finally have the nerve to ask me out?” You nudged him with your elbow repeatedly until he cracked a smile.

“Like I said, I didn’t want to pressure you into anything.” He sighed, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

“No, it’s not that. I’m just surprised you’re already planning a second date, and we aren’t even done with the first one yet.”

His jaw dropped open as quickly as he snapped it shut. If you weren’t watching him, you would have missed it. “I never said this was a date.”

“Yeah, but Cosmo told me it was, so who do you think I’m gonna believe. The guy I have been hanging out with or a dog willing to share all your secrets with me.” You shrugged with both hands in front of you, trying to weigh out your best option.

“Cosmo,” Steve looked down at his dog, shaking his head. “You can’t be telling YN all my secrets.”

“He’s a talker. Aren’t you Cosmo?” You cooed, making him bark in agreement. You smiled, reaching out to scratch his head one last time. You peeked up at Steve, not missing the gentle smile fading from his lips.

“How about it, YN? Do you want to go out on another date with me?”

“Yeah,” you grinned, nodding your head. “I’d like that.”

______

AN: Thanks for reading Part 11! We are over halfway through this story and there is so much more to come! And I am excited to share it with you all! The call about the daughter and father actually was something that happened and became national news a long time ago. I came across it while I was trying to find some 911 type calls/scenarios, and figured Rhomann and Duranna Dey would be a good fit for it. And she finally got to meet Cosmo! He is actually the dog from Guardians of the Galaxy! It is just a small cameo in that movie, but I love throwing in those easter eggs if you haven’t figured that out yet, haha! Did you like the Wade Wilson and Peter W cameo?! I thought it would be an entertaining addition and Wade breaking that fourth wall is always a fun time! The slow burn may finally be coming to an end. Let's just hope this charity softball tournament/grill-out date turns into a success! As always, thanks for reading, and don't forget comments are always welcome!

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everlarkficexchange · 3 years

Text

Clubbing 101

Written by @alliswell21

Prompt 144: She has a night of fun before the start of the semester. She meets this guy, they hit it off that they sleep together. But when she shows up to her class the next day, she sees the guy again. But he’s her professor and he’s way older than she originally thought. #olderPeeta [submitted by @animekpopxx]

Rating: Explicit. NSFW.

Tags and Warnings: Canon Divergence; College!AU; Age gap, older man/younger woman; The opposite to slow burn? Smut; Unprotected sex; technically impaired consent since alcohol, but their both into each other while sober too 🤷🏻‍♀️; Ethical dilemmas; Teacher/Student relationship (sort of); One Shot, with an ambiguous open ending? Almost 10K words. Unbetaed.

Notes: Thank you to the moderators once more for putting up with us, procrastinating writers. You gals are saints! Thank you to @animekpopxx for her amazing prompts that never fail to snag my attention and give me the best ideas ever! You rock! I projected this story to be a smutty short thing, but it sprouted words and a background out of nowhere and I had to forced myself to stop adding to it, to get back to my other submissions waiting in my docs. Hopefully, it’s a good read for the ones who take the chance with it.

Thank you all!

KPKPKPKPKP

It starts with a harmless ranting.

“I’m not outgoing, or fun. I’m not even ‘cool’… hell, I don’t care what my sister says, I’m too old for this place!” I tell the handsome, bearded, guy sitting in the barstool next to me, “She’s a med student, you know, but she insists that partying is part of the college experience, especially when one’s career is so demanding… plus, is the last weekend of summer break, which apparently means you’re contractually obligated to party extra hard,” I roll my eyes, “I never saw the appeal personally, but I let her drag me out here so I can keep an eye on her. Is not like I’m gonna let her piss away her future for a night of clubbing,” I scoff, taking a long pull of my beer.

The guy chuckles, but I’m not done just yet.

I slam down my bottle and continue listing my grievances, “The thing that grinds my gears, is that she begged for a ‘girls’ night out’, and instead of drinking with me and people watch, she goes off with the first fucker that asks her to dance! I mean… did it ever occur to her, I may want to dance with her on OUR girls’ night out?!” I scowl and gulp another mouthful of beer, “then, to add insult to injury, thirty minutes later I get a text from her, saying to go on home without her ‘cause she found a ride, followed by that cursed eggplant emoji, like I needed an illustration of what kind of ride she’s getting,” I mock gag, rearranging the strap of my tiny purse across my chest.

“I guess she’s young, and beautiful, and does work very hard, but if you invite me to go clubbing with you, don’t abandon me within the first 15 minutes of arriving!”

My companion winces before sipping his drink, and smiling ruefully, “That’s harsh… sorry you’re having a shitty night,”

“Meh… little sisters, right?!” I shrug.

The guy smiles crookedly at me, and I find myself enjoying his smile, “I wouldn’t know about that. I’m the baby of three brothers, and the only thing I got away with was learning how to wrestle and spring awesome comebacks on the fly… the brutes kept me on my toes,” he chuckles.

“Three boys? Sounds chaotic. Your poor mother!”

“Yeah… life’s chaotic.” He averts his eyes for a second, his smile goes away. I’m afraid I’ve said something wrong, but he suddenly looks back at me, and confesses, “I’m not into clubbing either.” His eyes sparkle, despite the awful, dim, blue lights bathing the place.

I smile, “Look at us wallflowers, bonding over drinks and sibling shenanigans,” we clink our drinks together and sip. I’m chatty and relaxed, so unlike myself; I guess the two beers I’ve had are starting to get to me. “I’m Katniss, by the way.”

“That’s pretty,” he says, shyly; makes my chest warm up. “Nice to meet you, Katniss. I’m Peeta.”

I arch my eyebrows, “Peter?” I repeat, because I’m pretty sure I miss-heard him over the obnoxiously loud music.

The guy shakes his head, “Pee-ta… like the bread?” He chuckles. Then adds, “Family name. Everyone on my dad’s side are bakers.”

I snort-laugh, “Punny!” I say, taking another sip. Yup, beer’s getting to me, I’m not this cleverly funny. “My dad was into survivalism and botany… I’m named after a plant also known as Duck Potato, so I win the weird name competition!”

“Hey, it’s something else to bond over,”

“Cheers to that!” We clink our drinks again, and partake in our booze.

He orders another whiskey neat when he’s out… sounds both snooty and distinguished at the same time. Goes well with his put together image, though: nicely trimmed beard, nicely combed hair, nice polo shirt with what I believe is a tiny loaf of bread embroidered on the chest, and dark-wash jeans… I think. It’s hard to tell under the black lights of the club.

He offers to get me another drink, and I order an appletini.

“J.D. from Scrubs always drank one,” I explain, swirling the coctel in my hand, “I’ve always been curious to try, but didn’t wanna spend my own money experimenting on a drink I could potentially hate.”

“Makes sense,” Peeta says, “So… what’s the verdict?”

“Is pretty good, actually. But I think I’ll stick with my Miller Light,”

Peeta nods, “I honestly don’t enjoy alcohol that much.”

I giggle. “Then, what brings you to this fine establishment tonight, sir, if you’re not much for clubbing, or drinking?” I watch him out of the corner of my eye.

I like that when he smiles, his eyes crinkle in the corners.

“I lost a bet against a colleague.”

“Oh,” I’m suddenly self conscious and a little uncomfortable. I give the guy a scrutinizing look, and ask suspiciously, “what was the punishment exactly?”

The man rolls his eyes. “I have to spend one whole hour in the club, without criticizing anything, like the bitter old man I am,” he grins, “My friend’s words. Not mine!” He raises both hands, claiming innocence.

I laugh at the face he pulls, “Well, you’ve just defaulted on that punishment,”

“How so?” He beams.

“With the look in your face! It spoke volumes!”

“Am I that transparent?”

“You read like a preschooler’s board book, pal!”

We both laugh, I drink my beer, and he throws back his whiskey neat.

“So…” he makes a show of looking at his watch, “I still have 33 minutes to kill before I’m allowed to run out of this place… I know I’m not a Med student, co-Ed, sister of yours, but… would you, um, like to dance with me?” He sounds adorably hopeful.

I glance at the man sideways, toying with my bottle.

He smirks, mischievously, “I promise, spirits make me more coordinated on the dance floor. I become this amazing dancer when I have a couple of drinks on… or so my brain believes. I probably look like an idiot, but I’m too goofy to know the difference. You’re welcome to be the judge it for yourself,”

I take my sweet time finishing the last dregs of my beer, and wrinkle my nose, “You sure you wanna dance to this shit, kids call music nowadays?” I smirk, pointing a finger up, motioning wide circles into the ether.

Peeta gives a full belly laugh.

I really do like his laugh!

“Isn’t it our only choice?” He ventures.

Not if you follow me home, my thirsty brain supplies; my lips on the other hand, just let through a hint of a smile, because I’m buzzed, but not drunk enough to proposition a total stranger. I’ve never been one to sleep around anyway.

“Okay,” I say, too enthused. “As long as we both agree that this isn’t music,”

“Oh no, this just barely passes as noise!” Peeta agrees readily.

He guides me to the packed dance floor, and we start moving to the booming, deafening tunes playing overhead.

I’m not sure if one could call this dancing. Everywhere I look people are writhing against each other, like a pack of zombies without grace or rhyme.

I’m not sure Peeta will get an accurate assessment of his dancing skills, compared to what I’m seeing, he’ll probably look like a professional; plus, it’s too dark and busy in here to really appreciate anything, really, but after a few minutes of just shifting in place, robotically, I snatch two bottle beers from a waitress walking by, offering one to my partner, hoping that’s enough to get us loosen up. The waitress stares at me until I rummage on my crossbody mini purse and toss a crumple ten on her tray.

The liquid boost works. Before I know it, I’m grinding my hips against his. Peeta’s just the right height for his thigh to fit between my legs and brush against my front. I get tired of undulating my arms in the air, so I drop them around his shoulders, and feel just how firm and broad he is under my touch.

Our chests are tightly pressed together, and I’m at the right angle to just stare at his plush-looking lips. I turn around before I do something brash, like kiss him in the mouth. Peeta doesn’t question it, he just places his hands on my hips, and starts moving to the music’s beat.

I bring the beer to my lips, but the bottle’s empty… oops! It doesn’t matter, I’m having the time of my life!

Peeta’s swaying guides me. I basically drape my back over his front, and bump my ass into his groin. I feel the hint of a bulge there, and press my rear into it again, just to confirm if I felt what I hope I felt.

Peeta’s fingers tighten on my hip, emboldening me to keep going until I’m practically twerking into him, and his slight bulge morphs into a full blown hard-on.

I twist in his arms to face him, my lust idled brain barely thinking rationally, “Are your 33 minutes done yet?” I yell into his ear, so he can hear me over the noise.

He doesn’t even look at his watch, “To hell with time! I‘ll stay here all night, if you want me to,” He answers loudly.

“Come on, then!” I push off his chest, and snatch up his hand before he can reply.

Leaving the dance floor is surprisingly easily, considering the crowd bouncing in place together.

I make no conscious plan on where we’re going; I’m arguably familiar with the layout of this place from my many visits since Prim turned 21; I’m only mildly surprised when we navigate across the club, all the way to the restrooms. It’s like my clit is making all the decisions tonight… good for it!

There’s a line of disgruntled women waiting to get inside the Ladies Room, but the Men’s Room is available, and Peeta lets me guide him into it, like one of those pull toys children have.

“It stinks in here,” I comment blandly, but make a beeline for the last stall with a door.

There’s one guy at the urinal, but he doesn’t even look up from his pants, so I just shrug it off and yank Peeta into the stall with me.

The space is tight, but once inside the stall, I push Peeta into the door, and attack his mouth.

He makes a startled noise at the back of his throat, but his hands and arms immediately press me into his body more fully. My own hands trek down to his belt, where I fiddle with the buckle until it’s undone, and I can access his pants’ button and fly.

He hisses when my fingers graze his warm erection, and bucks into my knuckles. I’m in the process of sticking my hand inside his boxers, when Peeta growls, sucking my lower lip into his mouth, and letting it go with a wet pop.

“Switch places,” he pants against my mouth, and hoists me up, until my back hits the door and his hands grab my hips possessively, jutting my pelvis forward, “I’m hungry, would you mind if I eat you out?”

“Okay,” I gasp.

Thank you for forcing me to wear your tiny, clubbing dress, Prim!

“You’ll allow it?” He asks, incredulous, rubbing circles on my hips with his thumbs.

“Yes… I’ll allow it!”

His smile is sexy, his stare is hypnotic. Damned my drunken ass! I can’t believe I’m willing to do this in a smelly bathroom stall!

Peeta sits on the toilet and licks his lips while staring up at me. His hands disappear under the stretchy material of my skirt, bumping my purse out of his way. He skims his fingers under the elastic of my panties, and I bite my lip, nodding eagerly.

Slowly, Peeta slides my underwear down my legs, the tips of his fingers follow, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced!

Once he brings my panties to my knees, his hands rush back up my thighs, pushing the flimsy skirt around my waist. My underwear drops to my ankles on their own.

Peeta’s level eye with my crotch, and I squirm restlessly. “Beautiful… absolutely soaked,” he whispers in a daze, he inhales pulling me closer, “You smell divine!” He descends, nose first, into the thatch of dark curls between my thighs, making me moan. He ruts his face against me, and suddenly drops to his knees, grabbing my calf to pull my leg up.

But the movement gets prevented by my stupid underwear, tangled in my ankles. Without missing a beat, I toe my panties off, so Peeta can maneuver my body however he wants.

He drapes my leg over his shoulder, opening me up to his ravenous mouth. He grunts, burying his face into my core, and finally, FINALLY, his tongue swipes between my folds.

“Fuck!” I squeak.

My hands fly to tangle into his soft, perfectly coiffed hair. I nearly smother him, holding his face to my pussy, but he’s doing wicked things to me with his tongue: lapping, sucking, and nipping at my labia; drawing number eight figures around my clit with the tip of his tongue, to then sinking it deep inside my core. I can’t stop bucking into his mouth over and over.

When was the last time I was given head? Fuck if I know! Darius probably, he was decent, but didn’t do it often. And Thom was so boring at it, I actually preferred he didn’t do it. But this guy is amazing! A real expert in the matter!

“I’m so close! Please… I’m so close,” I wail like a cat in heat, writhing against the door.

Peeta looks up, and despite the horrendous lighting in the room, I realize he’s got the deepest blue eyes I’ve ever seen… too bad I can’t hold his gaze too long, because he starts rubbing my clit with his thumb, while fucking my hole with his tongue, and is all I can do not shout and scalp him in my delirium.

He doesn’t stop drinking my juices while I convulse above him. On the contrary, he retrieves his thumb, but keeps his mouth busy, lapping away all the slick I give him.

It’s too much.

I tug on his hair to pull him off of my sensitive privates.

Peeta takes one last lick with the flat of his tongue and looks up at me, smiling wolfishly, “Was that good?” His beard’s dripping with me, he wipes some of it off on his sleeve.

I snort, unsexy and definitely rude. “You made me cum so hard I saw stars… yeah, it was good. Better than good, really!” I smile down at him, and try to pull him off from the floor.

All the gel holding his curls in place is gone now, rubbed off on my palms. His hair is sticking up on the top and towards the back of his head. I reach up to try and smooth it back, “I’m sorry, I seem to have made a mess of your hair,” I giggle. It’s adorable, but I feel bad that I ruined it.

“You can mess my hair any time you want, Katniss.” He says, almost shyly, he places his hands on my waist, over the bunched up dress.

It’s a big turn on to me, how his words are so flirty, but he delivers them so sweetly and awed. Is unexpected and endearing… which is odd, because I don’t usually find people endearing at all!

We both chuckle.

He licks his lips, and I feel heat pool in my lower belly again.

“Come’ere!” I wrap my hand around his nape, and pull his lips to mine.

He responds immediately, licking the seam of my mouth. I suck on his tongue when he slides it against mine.

He moans.

“Fuck me, Peeta,” I rasp into the kiss, palming his dick through his jeans.

He groans, “Are you sure?” He barely holds back another groan when I squeeze his clothed erection.

“Cock. In me. Now!” I command through gritted teeth, trying to pull his cock out of his pants with one hand, while taking his hand, and splaying it on my boob.

“Okay… shit… this is… surreal! This has never happened to me before!” He kneads my tit, gently.

I’m not sure I was supposed to hear that, so I pretend I didn’t and turn, facing the door to wiggle my ass, in an attempt to convince him.

Peeta makes a noise in his throat, quickly followed by the sound of shifting clothes, and a metallic thump from his belt buckle hitting the toilet.

I whine when Peeta’s warm, heavy cock caressed my bare ass cheek. “Please don’t tease me,” I beg.

“Fuck, Katniss… do you really want this?”

“Yes, Peeta… put your cock inside my cunt, and fuck me all the way to next week! Now!”

His warm body cocoons mine, “Anything you want, sweetheart,” he whispers into my ear, and I feel the blunt head of his cock parting my folds, coating himself with my natural lubricants.

He finds my entrance, pushing inside just the tip. He gasps, “Fuck!” One big hand wraps around my hip to keep me steady, bracing his other arm on the door, above my head.

“Peeta… Please!” I wiggle my ass, making him sink another inch deep.

“Hold still,” He hisses, “I’m trying to hold back… not ramming in too roughly… embarrassing myself, cumming too fast,” His hot breath warms my nape. “You feel like heaven!” He growls, tightening his hold on me.

I’m torn, wishing he’d drill into me without mercy already, while another part of me is grateful he’s trying to stay under control… I don’t know which I want more…

When was the last time I had sex?

As if reading my thoughts, Peeta shares haltingly, “It’s been such a long time for me. I want it to last, but I’m

Not sure if I can,”

I don’t have time to second guess myself, because Peeta’s moving, and he’s massive!

“Don’t hold back!” I bleat, “I want it rough… I want it fast!” I gasp, clenching down on him. I paw at the door for purchase, trying not to face-plant on the cold, hard surface, while Peeta’s fat prick stretches me to the brink of pain! I can’t stay put for him any longer; I buck into him.

“I said to hold still!” He slaps my ass, hard. It stings, but it’s a welcomed feeling.

I moan and melt, finally relaxing enough for him to penetrate me all the way to the hilt. He stays there a moment, breathing harshly into my neck, squeezing my hip on and off.

“You’re so tight. So warm. So wet, Katniss.” He nuzzles my ear, “I’m gonna move now, I apologize beforehand in case this ends too soon for you…” He drags himself slowly out of me, just to plunge right back in with a swift, hard thrust.

I squeak; he grunts..

Peeta holds me by the waist, “You’re so pretty and sexy, Katniss. I can’t decide if you’re real, or the most vivid wet dream I’ve ever had…” he’s fucking me like a jackrabbit in rut.

I’m speechless, vaguely wondering if I didn’t dream him instead?

His cock head hits a spot deep inside me I’ve never reached before. I start babbling nonsense— mostly praising his cock and his strength— I don’t really know what I’m saying, but he seems to be enjoying it thoroughly by the increase in his speed and the volume of his grunts.

I’m joisted up and down his shaft like a rag doll; I wish I’d thought of hanging my stupid little purse somewhere before we started, because now it’s bumping on my thighs, distracting me from the great ducking I’m getting; it’s no matter… I can feel my orgasm building in my belly.

“I’m gonna cum, sweetheart… I want you to cum too,” He nibbles on my earlobe.

“Yes, Peeta! Please make me cum, I’m so close!”

One of his hands slides around my waist to play with my clit, while his other tweaks my nipples over my dress and bra. That, added to the sensation of my g-spot being prodded repeatedly, sends me spinning over the edge.

I must’ve screamed or something, because he clamps his hand over my mouth, and then he’s grunting, digging his forehead between my shoulder blades, and pulling me back against his unyielding body.

“Fuck…” he gasps and shivers behind me. I feel his dick pulsing, his rhythm faltering, and then he goes still.

Peeta sags a little, wedging his shoulder into the door to keep from falling. I’m surprised he still has the strength to hold me up too; I have to be dead weight at this point, since my legs feel like overcooked noodles and my arms gave out a minute ago.

We both try to catch our breaths, too spent and weak for much more, at least for a few minutes.

Peeta stirs. “Are you okay?” He breathes out, ruffling the loose wisps of my hair with his breath.

I chuckle, leaning my sweaty temple on the cool door. “I can’t feel my toes… which is excellent!”

“Good,” he sighs.

Three heart beats later, he straightens up and pulls out of me. An indecent amount of spend flows down my legs as soon as his cock dislodges from my pussy, but Peeta shoves something soft between my thighs quickly, before I have time to freak out about the mess.

I look down mildly curious, staring at an embroidery of a tiny loaf of bread. Vaguely, I wonder if that’s his uniform? He said he was a baker, right? At least he’s named after bread or something. I giggle. “Is this your shirt?” I ask, widening my stance to gracelessly wipe myself clean.

“Yeah,”

“Thank you,” I say, dazedly, turning sideways to smile at him gratefully.

He’s wearing a simple, white, cotton t-shirt when I return the polo to him, now spoiled with cum and slick. I’m caught off guard by how broad shoulder he is, and by how nice he smells… cinnamon and sweat. Weird combination, but pleasant. I wonder if he baked any bread today?

“Um… would you… would you like to put these back on?” He asks awkwardly, leaning down to pick up my discarded panties from besides the foot of the toilet bowl.

I wrinkle my nose, “Not really,” I mumble. “Who knows when was the last time that floor got cleaned. Gross.”

Peeta smiles and shakes his head, “Here,” he grabs his polo, covered in our juices, and wraps my underwear in it. “Now it’s hidden.”

My body is finally catching up with the advanced hour, the beers and the two amazing orgasms. I’m starting to feel sore everywhere, and my eyelids are getting heavy. “Wow… think I’m officially all partied out,” I chuckle weakly.

“Ditto,” Peeta agrees, his smile is shy. “So… there’s this little dinner about two blocks from here,” he starts, eyes downcast; the space seems to shrink around us, now that the frenzy of our physical activities is done with. “Would you like to grab a pancake or som—“

My phone rings, startling us both into silence. I frown, but scramble to find it in my purse, to check who could be calling me… apparently at 2 a.m.!

My frown deepens. Prim’s smiling face flashes on the screen. She was supposed to be getting some herself! “It’s my sister,” I whisper, tamping down my rising panic. I don’t ask if it’s okay to answer, I just do it. “Prim?”

“Where the hell are you?!” I have to pull the phone off, or risk eardrum rupture by my sister’s screeching. “I’ve been texting and calling you! I’ve been worried sick!”

I scowl at the wall, confused and little annoyed, “Prim… Prim, are you okay? Are you hurt? Do you need me to come get you somewhere?” I try to ask.

“What?! No. I’m home! But you aren’t, and I’ve been scared shitless trying to find you!”

I give Peeta an apologetic grimace, and blindly feel around for the lock to get out of the stall. “Um… why are you home so early? Last time I heard from you, you were getting a ride,” I’m trying to sound unaffected; It’s all I can think to say in my mortification.

“Never mind that! Why aren’t you home already? I thought you had to work in the morning and then go to sch—”

While Prim rages at me, I place a hand on the phone and turn to Peeta, still in the stall, awkwardly facing the wall, I assume to grant me some privacy. I’m sure he can hear my sister’s frantic chastisement from where he’s standing. “I’m sorry… you’d think I was a teenager instead of a grown ass adult,” I roll my eyes.

Peeta waves me off good naturedly. “It’s okay. I’m sorry for keeping you so late,”

I’m about to say something else, but Prim yells loudly, something about calling the police and checking the hospitals for me, which truly prompts a reaction from me, “Calm down! I’m still at the club, exactly where you left me!” I cover the phone with my palm again, and turn to him. “I’m… I’m gonna go? Before she threatens to send the marines in,” I try to joke, but our situation takes all the levity out of it, and my attempt dies off, lamely.

Peeta nods, smiling softly; somehow I can tell it’s not genuine.

“Little sisters, right?” I offer halfheartedly, twisting my lips.

“Can I… walk you out at least?” He asks quietly; Prim hasn’t stopped nagging this whole time.

“I… it’s not necessary, but thank you…”

Peeta nods again, looking disappointed.

I don’t get to tell him a proper goodbye, because two dude-bros come in the bathroom, letting the noise from the club filter in; one of the idiots elbows the other, and both start making some lewd comments about me, but Peeta steps in, eyes wild with anger, and tells the guys to knock it off. Prim hears the whole thing of course, and goes nuts herself asking what’s going on?

Peeta looks at me, and motions his head towards the door.

Message received, I step outside the bathroom and book it out of the club, “I’ll be home in a bit. I’m gonna call and Uber,”

“Call me as soon as you’re in it!” Prim demands.

“Fine! Now stop nagging me, will you?!”

I don’t realize I never looked back at Peeta to wave my goodbyes until I’m in the car, heading home. Regret truly is a bitch. I can’t help feeling like I just lost something important, but I have no idea what it is.

>>—————> * <————<<

It’s been a very long Monday. I’m mainly running on caffeine at the moment, and can’t wait to get home and pass out in my fluffy bed, to see if I can catch up on last nights lost hours of sleep.

I enter my last class of the day and find a seat in the middle of the third row. I pull my laptop, a writing pad and my mechanical pencil out of my bag, and watch as my classmates start filtering in one by one, greeting each other and finding their places, lazily.

I’m the oldest student in this class, which is not surprising. I’ve only just come back from my extended— 5 year— sabbatical; and did it only after I was completely sure I could handle my workload and the financial strain of both me and Prim going to college at the same time, without giving myself an early grave.

It’s been hard, but I’m glad I came back to finish my schooling, I only need a handful of credits to graduate, which is great!

I check my watch. We still have a few minutes to kill before class starts. The professor— Dr. Mellark, according to the copy of my schedule— is not here yet, so I pull up the banking app on my phone to give it another glance. The balance is still the same as the last two times I’ve seen it, but it doesn’t hurt to be extra careful when one is on a tight budget. I scheduled payments for the power, gas and rent to go out in the next few days, and I want to make sure there’s enough money in the bank to cover them. We’re looking fine for the month, financially speaking.

The door to the classroom swishes open, and I start signing off my app.

“Good afternoon ladies and germs; I’m doctor Mellark, and provided you’re in this room for an English class, I’ll like to welcome you to the amazing world of Classic Literature!” Says a deep, male voice I find oddly familiar. “By the way, don’t any of you dare to disagree with me on the awesomeness of classic lit… I’m a doctor, I know what I’m talking about… unless you ask me about medicine, then please be free to disregard everything I say, because I’m not ‘that’ kind of doctor!”

A murmure of little chuckles fills the room; even I smile, silencing my phone and putting it away, before looking up at the professor.

I choke on a strangled gasp when I finally set eyes on the man I assume is the teacher, dumping a worn, leather, messenger bag on the desk near the podium. He’s the last person I would’ve expected to have as a professor.

Oblivious to my predicament, Doctor Mellark— or as I know him: Peeta!— keeps introducing himself.

“I’ve been teaching this course for 14th years, but I’m always pleasantly surprised to hear the different points of views my students bring to our discussions on the classics we study, which in a nutshell, is the beauty of this class.” He pulls a ream of paper out of his bag, and gives it to a student in the front, “Please take a syllabus, and pass the rest to the next person, and so on… thank you!”

My face is burning. I think I’m gonna faint.

“But enough about me,” his voice booms, making my whole body shiver. “I don’t normally do roll calls or care about attendance, as long as you’re not missing assignments, and are here during discussions, so this is the first and last time I’ll be reading this list,” he rises a piece of paper above his head, I surmise has the students names on it, and he instructs, before reading, “I’ll call your names, and you’ll introduce yourself, briefly, that way we can all get acquainted with each other, yes?”

Ugh!

He can scratch my name off that list right now! We’re more than acquainted with each other.

Bile rises to my throat. An intrusive, bitter thought pesters me: how many of his students has he gotten ‘that’ familiar with?

But the thought dies off quickly. An even worse, more worrisome thought springs front and center in my mind: Did we use protection?!

Panic rises in my chest, a nervous queasiness settles in my belly; a distant memory of warm goo sliding down my legs comes to mind… Oh shit!

Oh shit, oh shit! We didn’t use a freaking condom? Who does that?!

Oh shit!

Would a Plan B still be effective right now? It’s been less than 24 hours…

Peeta’s reading names. People stand from their seats and talk about themselves. I haven’t heard one word they’ve said, but I’ve been watching how some of the female students bat their eyelashes and speak all breathily, smiling coyly at him… Peeta seems oblivious to the flirting, but I still feel a cocktail of unpleasant feelings in the pit of my stomach.

I realize, I’m jealous!

My ass is frozen in my sit, I’m not even breathing. I don’t think Peeta’s seen me yet, but… what will he do or say once my name comes up? I send a quick prayer to heaven, he won’t recognize me since I look nothing like I did last night at the club, with my hair down and my face all made-up. Right now and plain ol’ me… the rub is gonna be my name. Darn my dad and his awful naming whims!

Soon enough, he reads a name that makes him stutter, “Kat…Katniss? Everdeen?” He does a double take, “Katniss Everdeen…” his eyes are the size of saucers when he scans the lecture hall, swiftly. When he finds me, he looks back down at his paper, and says the name out loud again, unsure, “Katniss Everdeen?” Like he doesn’t believe what he’s reading.

I stand up woodenly, my voice cracks a little, “I’m—I’m Katniss Everdeen… hi!”

I’m about to drop back into my chair, but Peeta kinda mumbles, “You know, Arrowhead, or Katniss is a water plant? The root is edible… like a swamp potato?”

There are quiet little giggles all over the place.

Peeta clears his throat, his eyes flit away; his face’s blank of emotion, but his cheeks seem pinker than a second earlier, “I just read that online, believe it or not. Interesting facts about local flora, people. Reading is knowledge, but so is learning from one another… what can you tell us about yourself, Miss Everdeen, besides that you have a very unique first name?”

“I…” I harrumph, avoiding eye contact with Peeta at all costs, “I’m a part time student. Majoring in Botany. I took this class to fulfill my last English credits requirement for graduation. I do love books and classic literature, in particular.”

“Thank you… Miss Everdeen,” he rasps.

I sit down, clumsily, hoping this horrible, horrible moment is just a nightmare and that I’ll wake up any second now, drooling on my desk, with indentations of my notepad on my cheek, because anything would be less embarrassing than what I’m going through at this point.

Mercifully, Peeta calls a different name, and then another, and then another. I don’t look up from my notepad once.

Peeta for his part, sounds stiff and monotonous— or so I’d like to think— no more jokes or clever sayings. Maybe he’s not as affected as I am about this ordeal, and I’m just making it a bigger deal than it really is? Maybe he does have experience sleeping with students— I mean, it’s not unheard off, right?— Not that either of us had any idea we were engaging in a teacher-student affair last night…

Although, calling it an affair is generous; it was a measly one night stand. A chance encounter. Two people letting off steam before a busy week ahead.

I’m getting increasingly angry with all this thinking… and the class seems to drag on. It feels like an eternity, and my mind keeps churning up all kinds of questions: Why would he not say he was a teacher at this particular college? Did he lie about being a baker? Is his name even Peeta?

I scoffed at the thought.

To my horror, I hear him ask, “Anything to say, Miss Everdeen?”

Looking up at him requires a great deal of bravery and self admonishment, but I do my best and face him— he’s wearing glasses now, which makes my belly tightened for inexplicable reasons— “No, Doctor Mellark, nothing of consequence anyway,” I retort as venemosly as possible, without alerting anyone else there’s something weird going on between me and the professor.

Peeta grimaces slightly. Then looks away, “Very well, as I was saying, we will start with the basics: The Iliad and Moby Dick, since those are High school level works, I expect your reports to be sufficiently well researched, and your personal ideas on the text somewhat fleshed out. It doesn’t have to be in-depth. I’m just looking to determine everyone’s style and needs for the semester ahead…” he continues his spiel, and I feel free to go back to my stewing and my musings.

Before I know it, Peeta’s dismissing the class, wishing everyone a good rest of their evening.

I jump into action, packing my stuff with my head bowed, but then I hear him again.

“Miss Everdeen, a private word, please?” It’s much too quiet to have been said from his podium. I still startled when I look up and find him standing right against the first row of desks, directly in front of me.

His face is not quite stern, but he’s definitely less smiley than when we met.

I force down a gasp, because under the better lighting of the lecture hall, and close up, I can see a plethora of details I missed at the club; like the arresting blue of his eyes, the slight reddish of his neatly trimmed beard, peppered with silver whiskers all over, while his perfectly combed hair is almost all silver on the temples, and ashy blonde on the top. His shoulders are even broader than I remember.

He’s overall stockier than I originally thought, and just a smidge shorter, which is fine, he’s still the most handsome man I’ve ever met, and I wouldn’t mind climbing him like a tree—

I shake my head off the intrusive, lecheros thoughts. I’m literally lusting after my teacher, for goodness sakes! This is beyond a silly schoolgirl crush!

Peeta arches one dark blonde eyebrow at me, expectantly.

I nod curtly, because my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth, and gesture for him to lead the way.

I shove my laptop into my bag, and hastily shoulder the straps, hugging my writing pad to my chest, following my professor like a chastened little girl.

My stupid eyes find his ass, and I blink twice, at the exquisite sight in front of me. I groan internally.

He grabs his own bag, takes off his spectacles and slides them into his shirt pocket.

How old is this man?! He said he’s been teaching this class for 14 years, when do professors start their teaching careers? How did I never see him before now roaming campus? Is his age the reason he ate pussy like a master?

I shake my head, cursing my horny brain.

Peeta opens a door I have no idea how we came across, and then stands aside, gesturing for me to go in first.

I duck my head and step into a warmly decorated office, with a small desk and two chairs in the middle of the room. Bookshelves full of tomes line the office. A handful of pictures and framed diplomas hang from the only available wall space in the room, but I don’t get to study them before he catches my undivided attention.

“Let me start by apologizing,” Peeta stars, closing the door behind himself, “I assure you, it wasn’t my intention to cause you any stress, or embarrassment out there.” He pauses, “Would you like to sit?” He offers, wincing. He doesn’t wait and steps around me, to pace on the other side of his desk, “I… um, never been in this position before,” he scowls, “I’m not sure what assurances I can offer at the moment, except, that I will start the process to recuse myself from this class immediately, to not interfere with your academic—“

“Recuse yourself?” I cut him off, “what do you mean?”

Peeta squirms a little, and sits down heavily on his chair. My bag slides off my shoulder, and I just dump it in the empty chair I was offered a moment ago.

“Well, Miss Everdeen, it’s the right thing to do, given our circumstances. We’ve breached the appropriate boundaries of our pupil and teacher positions, and staying in the same class together will put you at a disadvantage… is a power imbalance situation, that calls for action.”

“Can you stop calling me ‘Miss Everdeen’? It’s weird…”

“I’m just trying to maintain an acceptable level of decorum between us,” he says sheepishly.

“That ship has already sailed,” I say tiredly.

“Perhaps, but it’s my responsibility to still try,” he rubs his forehead. “Anyway, I’ll call my department and see what is next. Stepping down myself is the only fair solution I see so far… it would be terribly unfair to ask you to switch classes. Simply disrespectful, but we both can agree this uncomfortable situation needs to be nipped in the bud, for both our sakes, Miss Everdeen.”

“This is bullshit!” I snap, “What happened in that club, isn’t that terrible of a problem! What we really need to do is stop acting so stiffly and guilty. By the way, you sound like a walking thesaurus!” I accuse, looking him in the eyes for the first time since he called my name at the lecture hall. “Stop it!”

Peeta inhales deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Miss Everdeen, our actions last night may have been honest, and even innocent in nature, but they still carry consequences… unexpected ones, especially in light of the facts. And the facts are, that it would be unethical for me to remain in a position of authority over you. In any case… if you feel the need to report me to the school administration, for… harassment or inappropriate behavior or anything else, I won’t dispute any claims. I promise to distance myself from you and give you space so you can continue with your education without interference, in a safe environment.”

I grunt, “I’m not going to report you, because you didn’t do anything wrong. Sure, I thought you were a baker… I mean your story about your name, and that little loaf of bread embroidered into your shirt, I thought it was your uniform,” I shrug one shoulder.

“Sorry about that… I never meant to mislead you,” he says bashful.

I ignore him, “Either way, I was the one pulling you into that bathroom. I threw myself at you. I begged you to do things to me, and you just granted me my wishes…” like a sexy gentleman, “The sex is on me. I’m 26 years old, I’m not some bumbling teenager who hasn’t learned to take responsibility for her actions, so, please… stop trying to shield me, or protect me, or whatever it is you’re doing,” my arms flap around in frustration. I finally push my bag off the chair, and sink into it. “Look, Peeta—“

“Professor…” he corrects, frowning a little.

I roll my eyes, if he knew he’s just making it sound kinkier than it already is, he wouldn’t be so adamant about the freaking titles.

“Fine… Doctor Mellark,” I enunciate, pettily. “I specifically chose your class as my last English elective for two reasons. One: it’s exactly the amount of credits I need to graduate at the end of the semester. And two: it fits my schedule to a T, which is important, since I do have a full time job when I’m not a college student. So, I’m sure we can both be adults about this unfortunate situation, and simply forge on. There’s no need for you to recuse from teaching this class, and I have absolutely no intention of switching. We both can wear our big people britches, and pretend last night was a… what did you call it?” I wave my hands, as if the answer will materialize from thin air, “A vivid wet dream? And leave it at that!”

Peeta glares at me, looking aggravated for the first time since I met him. “It’ll be unethical to continue like everything is normal, Miss Everdeen.” Peeta argues, stubbornly.

“Nobody has to know about last night,” I say, exasperated, then a horrifying thought flashes in my mind, “Unless you bragged about it already!”

“No!” He straightens in his chair, looking offended, “I would never do something so vile,” He looks indignant, “plus, the fact still remains that something did happen last night, and I know about it! I can’t, in good faith, be your teacher.”

“Are you planning on showing me favoritism because you know what my pussy tastes like, Peeta?” I deadpan, “Or are you gonna blackmail me into doing it again?”

“Stop calling me Peeta!” He growls through his teeth, his very thick fingers clenching into fists on his armrests.

I blink at his reaction owlishly, realizing I’m truly pushing it this time.

“I’ve always prided myself on keeping my nose clean. Being a decent man and tutor. Never in 17 years of teaching have I slept with a co-ed, let alone a student in my own class.” He breathes deeply, then pins me to my chair, with those arresting blue eyes of his, burning with controlled anger, “I would never extort you or anyone for sexual favors, Katniss. While I don’t really want to lose my tenure or face other disciplinary actions from the school authorities, the one thing I truly don’t want to damage are my personal standards, and my self image.

“Katniss, I’m already biased when it comes to you. Being your professor won’t be exactly fair to anyone. I’m not saying I would give you A’s willy-nilly, nor that I would grade your papers any differently than I’d do your peers or that I’d be less critical of your work,”

“That’s reassuring,” I roll my eyes. “You’re telling me that if I bring you a shit essay, you might not be persuaded to let me redo it?”

He sighs, “I don’t know…” he scratches the back of his neck, “I’ll most likely hover over your desk a disproportionate amount of time compared to your classmates. There’s also a chance I’ll call on your name more often than the rest of them?”

“I still don’t hear one unscrupulous, wrong reason, why you can’t do your job, and teach this class.”

We sit there, staring at each other, at an impasse.

“Why are you so set on keeping me in that room, Miss Everdeen?” He asks, softly.

Finally, I relent, relaxing my tense shoulders, and exhaling tiredly. I raise my hands in defeat. “I don’t know, Peeta. Because I want to protect you, the same way you’re trying to protect me. But… recuse yourself if you have to. I still believe you’re a better man than your urges.”

Peeta relaxes in his chair too, “Thank you, Katniss.You didn’t have to say that, specially because you don’t know me. It still means a lot.”

I chew the inside of my lip, calculating stuff in my head. “You’re right, I don’t know you, but I consider myself an okay judge of character.” He opened this door, it’s time for me to walk through it, “Can I ask you some stuff?” I ask innocently.

Peeta arches his eyebrows. “Shoot,” he says.

“How old are you?”

“45. I’m sorry. I knew you were young last night… I just didn’t quite grasp just how young,” his eyes shift downwards, sheepish and uncomfortable.

“I’m an adult. I’ve been the head of my family for years. At this point, age is irrelevant for me.” I state, dismissively.

“What about your family?” He asks, tilting his head sideways.

It takes me a minute to answer. I cross my arms over my stomach, and exhale, “It’s been only Primrose and I for five years now. My mother had cancer. My father passed when I was eleven.” I rock in my chair, slightly, “That’s why my sister was being such a clingy bitch last night. She can’t bear to lose anyone else. Neither can I for that matter.”

Peeta leans forward on his desk. “I’m so sorry to hear that, Katniss.”

I sit back, feeling like a huge weight just got lifted off my shoulders. “It’s okay, really. I’m back in school, about to finish my last semester, Prim is doing great in university, the only debt we have right now is Prim’s car and my Target card… we are actually okay,” I smile, meekly at him.

“That’s… that’s good, Katniss. Admirable, really.”

“Peeta?” I start cautiously, “Would you really remove yourself from the class because of me?”

He looks me right in the eye, sincerity emanating fro his eyes. “Absolutely. Without hesitation. As soon as you leave, I’ll email my Head of Department, explaining my situation. Don’t worry, I won’t mention any names or details—“

I shake my head, vehemently.

Peeta squints, studying me cautiously, measuring me.

“Please… stay with me…”

Something in my tone catches his attention, and he eyes me curiously. “I’ve already told you why I can’t,” he says, almost soothingly.

I stand up. Go around my chair, and drop back down into it. I start shaking my leg nervously. “I had this feeling in my gut since last night. Like I lost something precious, I just couldn’t put a finger on it… I still can’t, to be honest. All I know, in my loins, is that I can’t let you step down from your position, and I sure as hell won’t walk away on you without figuring out what this…” I wiggle my fingers, pointing to the mouth of my stomach, “feeling is about.”

He stares at me.

I stand up again, and this time I just pace, to the wall with the pictures, and stare at a bunch of faces, too similar to Peeta’s not to be related to him somehow.

“I know I’m not making sense, but I just needed to say that.”

He watches me for a long beat, weighing his options no doubt, before answering, “I can’t be your teacher, Katniss…” he sighs, and rubs his forehead, “because I’m afraid seeing you every week, without being able to touch you will be absolute torture.”

“Really?” I bite my lip, giving him an open once over, not feeling one iota self conscious about. “How come?”

Peeta huffs, avoiding my eyes. “I’d be wondering what your breasts look like the whole time.” He confesses, flatly. “I didn’t get a chance to see them last night, and it kept me awake an indecent amount of time.” He twists his lips, “I’m gonna be pinning the whole semester, whether you’re in the classroom or not, craving the taste of your juices in my tongue, and worse of all, I’ll probably embarrass myself, giving me involuntary hard on’s just fantasizing about you.”

I practically prowl towards him. “You poor thing,” I coo, pouting. “Would you go home to masturbate on the soiled pair of panties I left behind on that dirty, bathroom floor?” I ask… more like, purr, really.

Peeta chuffs out an incredulous laugh, covering his face with both hands. He grunts, “Aw, fuck! That sounds so… it’s probably exactly what could happen. I’d try to stay professional in the classroom, but in the privacy of my home…” he chuckles weakly, shaking his head.

“What kind of fantasies are we entertaining here?” I ask, invested, and sit on the corner of his desk.

Peeta thins out his mouth, “Katniss… that’s a slippery slope you’re trying to climb,” he warns.

“Humor me?” I cajole.

He takes a stuttering breath. “I’ll bring you into this office, same way I did today, except I’ll rip your clothes off, throw you on the desk and take you hard and fast. From behind.”

I can’t stop a small sound at the back of my throat, nor the need to rub my thighs together.

I clear my throat, “I expect you’d want to fuck me on every surface in this office?”

Peeta pulls on the collar of his shirt, his face turning crimson, “And probably the lecture hall as well,” he adds conversationally.

I nod, scooting closer to where he sits. “I’m curious too you know. I didn’t get to see ‘any’ part of you naked. But my muscles still are deliciously sore from last night. A girl has to wonder… just how big a dick has to be to cause so much wreckage?”

It doesn’t take much effort at all to work him up. Peeta’s pants are tented in what looks like the most uncomfortable erection ever; he shifts in his chair to try and hide the effect my words have on him, yet, his hands remain folded on his lap, white knuckled with the effort of keeping himself in check. He’s really committed not to touch me while I’m still his student, but he rasps a question, full of concern.

“Did I hurt you?” His eyes search me, earnestly. “I’m sorry I was too rough, really,”

My heart gives a little somersault. “No, Peeta. You were pure perfection. I loved how you handled me.”

His lips twitch, and I’m amazed at how expressive his face is, even partially hidden under his near facial hair. “You said you were hungry last night before you got on your knees…” I murmur, “I think, next time I’ll return the favor,”

“Next time?”

I slide closer to him, but we both keep our hands to ourselves.

I lick my lips, resisting the urge to drop on my knees between his legs and gobble up his cock. I didn’t lie about wanting to see him in all his naked glory, but I can show the same level of restraint he does; I respect him for trying to keep a moral and ethical compass.

I smirk at him, slyly. “Are you sure you wanna abandon your post as my professor, now that my education is on the balance? We can wait a handful of months, Doctor Mellark… I promise not to tease you,” With that, I mean, I promise not to aggravate what could potentially be the worst case of blue balls in the history of slow burns.

Peeta hisses a mirthless chuckle, “You’re too much of a temptation, even if you don’t actively try teasing me, Katniss,”

I start playing with the end of my braided, dark hair. “You know what I’m most really looking forward to, from when I’m no longer your student?” I pose, shyly, “Going to that dinner you mentioned last night.” I shrug one shoulder. “I’ll let you buy me a stack of pancakes to celebrate my graduation. I’ll probably introduce you to my sister, Primrose… and we’d go from there… if you wanted to…”

Peeta smiles, disarmingly. “I’d love that too, Miss Everdeen.” He says quietly.

I let go of my braid, and hug myself, “Stay in the class?” I practically beg one last time. “We can do it, I know we can. We can have a platonic, completely innocent teacher-student relationship until I’m done with college,”

Peeta shakes his head. “We’ll see after I talk to my head of department. Who knows, maybe all the schedules are already locked in place, and I have no other choice but to stay put. There’s no guarantee a replacement is available for me.”

“We’ll make it work!” I say enthusiastically.

“Maybe…” he sighs, not entirely convinced.

I pull my phone out of my pocket to check the time. Time is running out, I gotta get to the pharmacy before my window of opportunity closes.

“Hey, Peeta… um, invasive, weird question?”

I wait for him to nod.

“Have you by any chance, have gotten a vasectomy at any point?”

“Mmm no, never had. Why?”

Aw shit!

I bite the inside of my cheek. “Hopefully no reason.” I say quickly, too nonchalant for my own good, and he catches on it, I can see the gears turning in his brain, “Okay,” I make a big show of yawning and stretching my arms, “I have to run some errands before going home and crashing for the night.”

Peeta cringes, “Are you… okay? Really, okay? You said you were sore?” His eyes rove over my face full of concern.

“I’m fine,�� I smile, “nothing a long soaking in Epsom salts can’t cure.”

“Okay,” he says, unsure. “I don’t want to overstep any worse than I already have, but… I’ve been anxious, wondering if you were alright, if you got home fine to your sister since you left the club. Which, obviously you did… but, I wanted to kick myself for not asking your number, just to be able to check on you… and this is frown upon, a d completely unethical, but—“

“I’ll email you,” I say quickly. “Nothing explicit. But I’ll let you know I’m home and okay.” I’ve spoken to people in code before, this shouldn’t be a problem, and really, sending my professor an email with a time stamp and some innocuous question about the syllabus doesn’t have to be nefarious at all.

“Alright… Just let me know if there’s anything wrong, okay? I swear this won’t become a routine thing or anything, just this time, to give me peace of mind, and because it is late… and well, yesterday…”

“It’s fine, professor. I don’t mind. And… everything will work out,” I say shouldering my bag and pocketing my phone, “everything will work out, even if my Plan B doesn’t,” I smile and scurry out the door, before the puzzlement in his face has time to settle.

After all, a semester is only 15 weeks long, give or take… that’s plenty of time to figure things out.

#alliswell21 #animekpopxx #prompt 144 #Springtime Edition 2021 #submission

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yannowhatigiveup · 3 years

Text

My One And Only - Chapter 12

Previous | Next

We’re finally onto the long chapters! Yay! We’re also catching up to where I currently am spin the story so frequent updates will be a thing of the past, sorry. Oh and before you read this chapter I gotta say something,

|| TW: This chapter does cover some topics that may be sensitive to some viewers. Viewer discretion is advised ||

Rose was probably the one who gave Lila Marinette’s phone number since Lila asked sOo NicELy and Rose was too kind. So kind that she’s oblivious to the fact her kindness is hurting others.

•~•

Marinette then looked for something to put in her hair. She decided to put her hair into a ponytail tied with a long, dark red, silk ribbon. She finished her outfit and she realised she had plenty of time left before school started. Marinette noticed a notification for a message, rolling her eyes as she saw who it was from, Lila. Marinette took a deep breath before going to read it. 'It can't be that bad, right?'

Wrong.

————————————————————

Lie-la: I said that I would take everything from you and i am a woman of my word but...I'm kinda bored. This is taking far too long. You should go kill yourself, it's not like anyone would care anyway. Go to the top of News tower and jump, no one will care. I surely won't. You don't deserve happiness. Just cross to the other side. Jump. No one will care. No one ever did. They're all fake, I'm just doing a favour for you. Jump. Kill yourself. No one loves you, no one cares. Jump, jump and fall to your miserable death. On News tower at 6:30, jump. You'll be able to get a good view of the world before you die. Not like I care. Jump. Kill yourself. You're a burden, everyone hates you. Just jump, die. Bleed, bleed out and die. Jump. Die. Kill yourself. Don't forget to leave a note. HAH! Who am I kidding? No one will read it anyway. Just kill yourself already.

Marinette only needed to read it once. She had a blank expression on her face, she wasn't going to give in to emotion, even though she wanted to. Tikki, noticing the change in emotion, flew over to Marinette. She caught a glimpse of her owner's screen before gasping and going to hug her.

"Thanks, I really needed that Tikki" Marinette sniffed before gathering herself. "Come on, I don't wanna be late!" She exclaimed, plastering a smile on her face. Tikki was unsure but went in Marinette's bag anyway. Marinette ran down the stairs, grabbing a croissant and said bye to her parents. She then sprinted to school, ignoring all the 'hello's on the way to the locker room. Alya, realised this and easily became suspicious.

"Hey Girl!" She said as Marinette approached. "You feeling good?"

"Yeah, I'm fine"

Alya and Nino looked at each other, confused, then Alya looked to Chloe who only shrugged her shoulders. Obviously there was something wrong. Then Alya got an idea. She pulled her phone out and texted the only person she knew Marinette would open up to. Damian.

Me: Hey can you check on Mari today?

Damian-boi: Why? Is something wrong?

Me: I think so but she isn't opening up

Damian-boi: I'll invite her over

Then, when Alya was putting her phone away, she saw Mari look at her phone and smile. 'He'll find out what's wrong'. Nino and Chloe also noticed that Marinette had smiled for the first time that day, she only had a blank expression, tired even.

"Did you send her a message or?" Chloe asked confused.

Alya shook her head. "I didn't but I'm sure Mari now has something to look forward to later"

Chloe looked at Nino, wanting answers. He shrugged his shoulders. Either way, they were glad that their friend had a burst of happiness. But she deserved so much more.

~~~

Damian was sitting on a seat by one of his hotel room's window, reading a book from the bookshelf provided. Though, it was merely a distraction. He sighed while putting the book down, he wanted to ask Marinette on a date he just couldn't figure out how. 'Why is this so difficult?' Then a message popped up on his phone.

Césaire: Hey can you check up on Mari today?

'Is Angel ok?'

Me: Why? Is there something wrong?

Césaire: I think so but she isn't opening up

'I'll talk to her later'

Me: I'll invite her over

He sent a message to Marinette then he put his phone down, to say he was slightly concerned would be an understatement. True he had only known Marinette for a few days, but he was willing to do anything to make sure she was happy and safe. Damian knew Marinette would do the same. He wanted to come up with a plan to make her happy. And that's what he did. But he did look up the Parisian heroes first, eying Ladybug closely. 'She looks very similar to Angel, wait a damn minute...'

~~~

The bell went and Marinette headed towards Miss Bustier's classroom with Alya, Chloe and Nino not far behind. Since Marinette was quite far ahead of them, Lila managed to sneak a comment in without Marinette's friends hearing.

"I spoke the truth earlier, you are better off dead" Lie-la sneered.

Marinette flinched slightly, Lila saw this and was convinced the Marinette had heard her. She put a clueless and innocent expression on her face but on the inside, she felt victorious. Marinette on the other hand, felt horrible and absolutely gutted on the inside but had a blank expression on her face. She wanted to break down and cry right there, but she couldn't. If she would, Hawkmoth would akumatize her and there would be no stopping the villain she would become. As she thought down, she remembered that she would be going to Damian's later which was something to look forward too.

Alya had noticed that Marinette seemed even more down than when she first came in school. "Girl, you ok?"

Marinette shot as sad smile at Alya. "Just Lila being Lila" Mari muttered to her best friend. Alya had a mix of sadness and anger towards that liar, she obviously said something to make her best friends sad. Alya still had time before Miss Bustier arrived so she shuffled to get up, only to sit back down again after Marinette had shook her head. "It's nothing serious, I don't want more backlash"

Alya sighed. "Fine but after school I will confront her". Marinette knew there was no way to get convince her best friend otherwise. 'I just have to last till the end of the day' Marinette thought to herself.

Her thought was easier said than done, Lila had managed to say some hurtful comments every time Marinette was in view without any of her friends noticing. The school day went slower than a garden snail, much to the bluenette's dismay. She wanted to get out of there, away from Lila and just break down. Lila had never managed to get this far into her skin, she swore she could feel the words stabbing her heart. It hurt. Just as the school bell went, indicating that school was over, Marinette got up and tired to leave the classroom as fast as possible. She was so close to the school doors, she thought she would be able to leave without seeing Lila. That thought was interrupted by something cold, incredibly cold, running down her back.

"Oh my god I'm so sorry Marinette!" The liar apologized though, Marinette knew that Lila had done this on purpose. 'It's 4°C, why else would she have an ice cold drink?'

"Lila what the hell!" Alya shouted gaining many, including Lila's, attention.

"I-I didn't m-mean I-it" she stammered, crocodile tears forming in her eyes.

"Alya stop shouting at Lila! It was an accident!" Rose's stern voice echoed.

Marinette ignored the conversation, or argument, that followed. She was ice cold and needed to change. Right now, the only place she wanted to be at was Damian's. She reached her parents bakery, ran up the stairs and grabbed anything that had long sleeves. She wore a rosewood over sized, turtleneck jumper with over the knee boots. By now she was warmer but not as warm as she needed to be, though she really didn't care. Lila knows where the bakery is so Marinette didn't feel safe at that moment. The bluenette then rushed downstairs, her parents weren't around 'Probably packing for their flight tonight'. Her sprinting had slowed to a casual walk as she approached the hotel doors, her face blank and expressionless. Marinette got in the lift, pressed a button and got out when she reached his floor. She stopped in front of his hotel door and took a deep breath before knocking.

~~~

Damian closed his laptop. He had done some research on the Parisian superheroes, Ladybug specifically. He made a mental note about how similar both Angel and Ladybug were before he heard a knock at the door. 'Angel probably'. He went over and opened the door to see a frail looking Marinette, she never looked like that. That made Damian suspicious and worried. "Come in Habibti" He gestured for her to sit on the settee in his room and instead of replying, she gave him a sad smile and walked in. 'Whoever hurt her, be prepared to face my wrath'. As she sat on the couch, Damian locked the door and sat next to her. He noticed how she was avoiding eye contact so he placed his hand under her cheek, turning her head to face himself so she couldn't break eye contact. A pink blush lightly dusted her cheeks. "Angel" he began. "I am no good with emotions, I'm sure you know that by now. But that does not mean I can't tell when you're hurting. Please, tell me what is wrong"

The worried tone in his voice and the true concern in his eyes made the walls in her mind crumble. She began to speak up in a shaky voice. "W-well...today Lila kept saying things and this morning she..." her voice trailed off as she reached for her phone, opening the conversation which had that message and handed it to Damian. The hand used to reach for the phone was the hand that was cupping Marinette's cheek, she inwardly frowned but she watched as Damian read the message.

Damian face was neutral when Marinette first gave him her phone but it quickly changed. She watched as his face went from expressionless to visible anger, though, it looked like he was holding back from revealing anymore emotion. So she looked at his eyes, the eyes were the key to every soul and in his eyes she saw his true emotions. He was absolutely livid. His eyes were pools of rage. "I'll skin that fucking harlot alive" Damian snarled.

He widened his eyes in realisation to what he said and gently put the phone on the coffee table. He turned to Marinette and opened his arms for her. She needed much more than a hug in Damian's opinion, but in Marinette's, Damian was all she needed. She jumped into his arms straight away, burying her face in his chest while letting her tears flow. Seeing her so miserable made his heart break. One of his hands rubbed circles on her back while the other stroked through her hair, he also murmured comforting words into her ear. He'd deal with Rossi another time, right now he needed to focus on Marinette but he'd be damned he'd let Lila get away with hurting her.

Soon, the bluenette's tears turned into quiet, steady breathing. Marinette felt a lot better now, each comforting word from Damian had erased the meaning of each snarky comment from Lila. Anything and everything Lila had sad meant nothing to Marinette anymore, being in Damian's arms was the only thing that mattered.

"Thank you" she whispered, her face still buried in his chest.

"I'd do it again in a heartbeat, Habibti" Marinette hid her blush. Damian hummed to himself, as if he were thinking if something.

"What is it?" She asked, pulling away from the hug.

"Why don't you and I go for a walk? Just the two of us" The bluenette didn't hesitate.

"I'd like that"

~~~

The walk was like a breath of fresh air. Damian took her to a nearby cafe to get some hot cocoa for takeaway and they strolled the streets of Paris. Their saunter lead them passed the Louvre, passed the Seine and ended on the Eiffel Tower, on the highest floor a civilian could go. The two looked over Paris, leaning forward on the banister, the sun setting beautifully. Damian looked at Marinette, she was still staring at the city's silhouette in awe. Without thinking, Damian's hand reached for the ribbon in Marinette's hair, tugging at it slightly to let her hair down. The bluenette squeaked in surprise, the red ribbon once in hair hair was now wrapped around Damian's finger.

Damian didn't think that Marinette could get even more beautiful than she already is but he stood corrected while watching Marinette's hair flow beautifully in the wind. Not only that but the way the sunset's light landed on her, how it reflected in her eyes, made her so bewitching, so captivating. 'God...you can't turn back now Wayne' He collected every piece of confidence he had in him and spoke up. "Angel, can I ask you a question?"

"Well you just did, didn't you?" She giggled as he playfully rolled his eyes at her. "Sure what do you want to ask?" Marinette looked at him, her bluebell eyes seeming more spellbinding then he had ever seen them. He couldn't trust his voice, he would only mess up. He stared at her intensely, his right hand moved to hold her cheek. She didn't pull away, she leaned into his touch while blushing ever so slightly.

'May I kiss you?'

Marinette's eyes widened in surprise, her blush now being much more visible. She looked as if she had heard the question pass through his lips though he hadn't said anything at all. It's almost as if they communicated, telepathically. Marinette nodded, answering the unasked question. Damian slowly pulled her face closer to his, they both closed their eyes as Damian pressed his lips against Marinette's. They were just as soft as he suspected. The bluenette wrapped her arms around Damian's neck, the one on her face was now in her hair and the other was wrapped around Marinette's waist, pulling her closer to his body. The kiss wasn't passionate. It was soft, tranquil and tender. And Marinette liked it. She liked him. No, scratch that. She loved him. And he loved her back.

The two only pulled away when their need for oxygen became greater than the desire for each other. When they did they make eye contact, their eyes both reflected each other's feelings. Love. Marinette stepped closer and snuggled her face into Damian's muscular chest, like how she did earlier but this one felt much more heartfelt, filled with more affection. She hummed, closing her eyes with her arms still wrapped around his neck while his were wrapped around her waist.

"So I guess this is where I ask you on a second date or-" he paused hoping that Marinette would choose the option he was about to give her. "I ask to court you"

She giggled. "I wasn't aware that this is a date but I'm not complaining". She then looked up at his face and smiled. "And I would be much more than happy to court you"

He smiled back. 'Damn her smile is contagious' "So do I have the privilege of being your boyfriend now?" Damian smirked at her.

"Well If that's the case, then I have the honor of being your girlfriend" she hummed.

Hearing that made him feel guilty. He hadn't told her his last name, and she respected that. "Damian Wayne" he mumbled.

She looked slightly confused and tilted her head.

"I don't want to keep secrets from you so I am telling you now" he breathed in. "My name is Damian Wayne. I apologize, I should've told you sooner I-"

Her eyes widened in surprise and understanding. "No need to apologize I understand"

"So this doesn't change anything between us?"

She giggled while she put her head back on his chest. "Why would it?"

Damian let out a sigh of relief. He would've leaned in to kiss her again if he didn't notice an object heading straight for her at incredible speed. His left hand went out to grab it, which he did with ease. Marinette pulled away from the hug to see what Damian had caught. It looked like something from an akumatized villain. He sighed. "I guess it would be best to get out of the villain's way"

She looked at the object in his hand, then back at him. Without thinking, she blurted out "Remember would you said about secrets?"

"What about it?"

She stepped back and muttered a few words then there was a blinding red light, he had to close his eyes for a second. When he opened them, he was face to face with the spotted hero herself. The hair once flowing in the air was now back in the pigtails the hero is seen with all the time. 'Angel is Ladybug, I was right' Though he did have his suspicions, it still surprised him nonetheless. She smiled at him.

"Y-"

She cut him off with a chaste kiss on the lips which lasted longer than she anticipated, though she had to go on her tip toes which Damian found amusing. She also managed to take the object out of his hand. "I promise to explain everything later. I'll meet you back at the hotel when I'm finished, alright?"

"God, you really are an Angel". The blush on her face was very noticeable. She smiled at him before using her yo-yo to bring her to the akumatized victim. He watched as her silhouette jumped from rooftop to rooftop. Once she was out of sight, Damian looked back at the sunset. He chuckled to himself. "I guess when you bumped into me the other day, you gave me some of your Lady Luck".

———

Taglist: @little-bluestar, @miracleofadisaster, @frieddonutsweets, @jjmjjktth, @genderfluidmoma, @starlit-dreaming, @icerosecrystal, @lolieg, @kashlyn, @mochegato, @eggadoodle, @walkingthroughonautopilot

#daminette #damian x marinette #marinette x damian #maribat #maridami #damianette #mlb x dc #ml x dc #lila did a bad

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mrsalwayswrite · 3 years

Text

To Call Forth Love - Chapter 9

Yay! Next chapter! True confessions, this *sorta* slow burn is killing me....and i’m the one writing it! (sorry not sorry?)

Warnings: some swearing, nothing really, Hvitserk being a good bro?

Words:7100 (I hope these longer chapters make up for the wait)

Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius @evelynshelby @pomegranates-and-blood @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @heavenly1927 @zuxiezendler @punkrocknpearls @love-all-things-writing @southernbe

Series Masterlist

The ringing of her phone had Kari dropping the leggings she was folding on her bed to quickly snatch it up.

"Albus!"

The voice on the other end sighed. "You know I hate that nickname."

Kari laughed, picking the leggings back up to fold. "But it fits you so perfectly."

"I am not an old wizard."

"I'll give you that, but you're studious, kind and too wise for someone your age. So close enough."

"I suppose if I haven't been able to convince you to drop that nickname for the past ten years, I won't be able to now."

"Nope." She cheerfully said. "So, how are you? Your mother still wreaking havoc in your life?"

"She set me up on a date last week." He grumbled after a moment's hesitation.

In her mind, she could imagine him sitting at his desk with a slight furrow between his brows and lips pursed as he lamented his mother's involvement in his love life. This would not be the first time he complained to Kari about this topic. "Ohhhh? How did that go?" She asked, even if by his tone she could already guess his answer.

"I know my mother means well, but the women she thinks I should date…." He trailed off with a forlorn sigh.

"Not your type?"

"No."

"I'm sorry. You'll find someone and your mother won't be able to help but love them."

He snorted inelegantly. "I won't hold my breath for that."

"See, you're so wise." She teased, smiling as she folded a work shirt. "Now, what else is new since last month?"

The two spent the next hour talking. It had become their tradition after she moved. Hearing the gentle cadence in his voice, his quiet chuckles, it sent a wave of nostalgia washing over her. He was the only person from England she still kept in communication with, the only one who knew where she was. The last string tying her to her prior life. Although she would not have labeled him her best friend, they were certainly close and even more so after she moved. In their monthly conversations, they would chat about anything new in their lives, TV shows watched, books read, his latest exams in university. He always made sure to inform her what he knew about her family. Something she was grateful for but it always felt like a knife to the heart after.

As they talked, she finished folding her laundry, a necessary evil in her opinion. Once done with that, she moved on to the package she received in the mail today. It was addressed to her but the sender was a designer name she would never be able to afford in her lifetime. She shook her head, wondering what surprise the youngest Lothbrok had bought for her.

Listening to him regale her with the latest family drama of his, she opened the package and had to muffle a gasp at the two dresses that lay inside. The first was an off-the-shoulder, black skater dress that would reach mid-thigh in length. It was a classy and elegant cocktail dress that reminded her of the dress she wore on her and Ivar's "date" but way more sophisticated and stylish. It was the second dress that made her pause and wonder where Ivar thought she would ever wear something like this. It was a deep red evening gown, the hem long enough to trail slightly on the ground. The dress was gorgeous with a tight bodice and slight flair of the skirt. It was the slit in the skirt that touched her upper thigh and the sheer middle of the bodice that made Kari raise her eyebrows. The gown was the perfect blend of chic and sexy. What was Ivar thinking? She would feel so self-conscious and she never went anywhere fancy enough to wear it. Though as she stared at both dresses, she decided it never hurt to admire them on the hanger, even if she never got the chance to wear them. As her friend continued speaking, she hung both dresses up in her closet, making a mental note to talk to Ivar.

"It's probably good your brother moved out last year." She commented, tucking her laundry basket away in her closet.

"Yeah. He only comes over to the house if he has to." He said with a resigned sigh. After a long moment of silence, he spoke up again. His voice hesitant, almost remorseful, as what had been obviously on the tip of his tongue finally came forth. "Your mother has been talking about trying to find you again."

Kari froze, her mind shorting out and heart rate skyrocketing as his statement sunk in. "What…. what did she say?"

"Not much that I overheard." He confessed, sympathy in each word. "How much she misses her only daughter and feels abandoned by you. She has been telling people that you're doing charity work in another country when they ask about you."

"It's been almost two years… I hoped…" She slumped onto her bed, legs wobbling and mind whirling.

"That your mother would forget about you?"

"I don't know. I just…. I don't know."

Silence reigned for a moment before he spoke again.

"Are you ever coming home?"

"I…. I don't think that's home anymore."

"I miss you." He whispered.

Tears welled in her eyes. She took a deep breath forcing them back, but knew her shaky voice betrayed her. "I miss you too. Maybe you can come visit me here?"

"That would blow your cover."

"Could we meet up somewhere? You take a vacation or something?"

"I'll consider it…." His voice trailed off, only to come back stronger. "You know, when you wanted help to leave England, I thought it was just a temporary reprieve. I didn't imagine you would stay away."

It felt like a knife twisted in her gut, because he was right. She had never thought she would be gone this long. "I know…. I just…. I like my life here. I don't…. I don't want to go back to that."

He sighed as if giving up on convincing her to return. "I understand. I'll always be here for you. I still think of you as one of my closest friends."

"Same. We've known each other since we were thirteen. A few countries between us isn't going to stop that."

He chuckled. "Right. Well, I'll still hold you to your promise. If we're both unmarried by thirty-five, we'll have a courthouse wedding to keep our families off our backs."

"Sounds good." She laughed out, wiping the tears from her eyes.

"I have to go. I'll text you about when we can catch up next month."

"Perfect. Stay safe, Albus."

"You too, Abs."

"Ugh! That nickname is worse than yours!" She groaned, hearing a small chuckle on the other end of the phone. "Bye!"

After hanging up, she stared at her phone for a minute, the smile fading as her mind revisited the conversation. The weight of everything slammed into her, her body no longer able to support her under the strength of her duress. She crumpled onto her bed, curling into a fetal position, tears streaming down her cheeks. It hurt that England no longer felt like home to her, but neither did where she currently lived. What hurt and confused her most, was when she thought of being home- Ivar's face filled her mind's eye.

*****

"Thank you everyone for coming to class today. I'll see you either tomorrow or next week."

With the lights still dim, Kari turned off the soothing water music over the speakers in the yoga studio room. The women who had been laying in corpse pose on their mats began to rise and gather up their personal items. A quiet murmur of voices replaced the music in the enclosed room. She waved at a few of the regulars as they left her class. Even if she was not the one doing all the poses, by the end of class she still felt refreshed and rejuvenated. It always brought her joy to see people come in, stressed or anxious, and leave her class with a smile on their faces or just looking less tense.

Through the mirrors along the wall at the front of the room, she could see the tall, statuesque blonde making her way over, yoga mat tucked under her arm.

"Hey, you doing anything for lunch?" Gyda asked, coming up beside her. Even in leggings and a tight tank top, she looked like someone off the covers of a women's magazine. All Kari could figure was it was in the Lothbrok blood.

"Um, working on inventory?"

"How about instead you come out to lunch with us?" She motioned vaguely towards Torvi, who was gathering up her yoga mat. "We planned on stopping at that new boutique down the strip. So, we can just meet you for lunch when you're done."

"Really?" The brunette was startled by the offer. Sure, she had gone out with Gyda a few times but never with Torvi too. The three would chat occasionally before or after class and she liked Torvi's no-nonsense attitude. They had flippantly made comments about the three of them going out but to actually hear they wanted her presence both surprised and warmed her heart. "Torvi is okay with this too?"

Gyda rolled her eyes. "Yes. So…. Yes? No? Don't leave me in suspense."

"Yeah, I'd love to."

"Great. Text me when you're done and we'll meet up."

"It'll be at least half an hour…."

Gyda waved her off, her voice growing louder. "That's fine. Torvi takes forever when she browses anyway."

"Sorry, I like to think through my purchases before I buy something!"

Kari smiled at Torvi's retort. The other blonde was checking her phone, a smile on her face though as she peered up at her sister-in-law and her yoga instructor.

"Are you joining us?" She called over.

"Of course, she is!" Gyda replied, before Kari could respond. "But she's only coming if you swear not to share any stories about you and Bjorn's kinky sex life. Nobody wants to hear that."

Without a word, Torvi gave her the middle finger salute, before looking back down at her phone.

Gyda chuckled then turned to raise an eyebrow at the shorter woman. "Unless you're into that kind of stuff…."

"Oh gods, Gyda! No!" Her face flushed at the thought.

"Hey, it's the quiet ones who are the kinkiest. I bet Ivar would like that." She laughed as Kari tried to swat at her. Taking a step back, she pretended to zip her lips. "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me. Text me when you're done! We can meet at the café down the street. "

Kari waved at Torvi as the two blondes walked out of the studio room. Quickly, she hurried to finish tidying up. It had been a long time since she felt this excited to go out to eat with some female friends. A handful of times she had gone out with some coworkers or Lydia. In the beginning she was excited when Alana would invite her out with her friends to a club or bar but Kari quickly learned that was not her scene and began making every excuse possible to not be forced out with them. She always felt like an afterthought amongst the group, especially since getting drunk nor sleeping around was not her style. This time, she had high hopes for spending time with Gyda and Torvi. It would be nice to have female friends again.

The door to the studio room opened and Lydia popped her head in. "Almost done? You've got a visitor out here and he's causing quite the distraction." She said with a distinct shit-eating grin and wink before ducking back out.

"He?" Kari questioned out loud, although her mind suspected who it was. He was the only one who ever visited her. Slipping her phone into the pocket of her maroon leggings, she gave the room one final survey, wanting it to be ready for the next class before she left. With a nod, she headed out, the door swinging shut behind her.

In the large open area, she understood what Lydia meant by 'causing quite the distraction'. If she paused for a moment to drink the sight in, no one could possibly know, right?

Ivar leaned his shoulder against a wall, arms crossed over his chest with the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up to display his toned forearms. His dark locks were pulled back loosely in a man-bun, a few tendrils slipped free. Even in jeans, braces and smart-looking leather shoes, he looked quite handsome. With no cane in sight, it must be a good day.

Kari noticed more than one pair of eyes lingering on him from around the studio although he did not seem to notice as he stood there talking with Gyda and Torvi in hushed tones. The latter said something that immediately caused Ivar to narrow his eyes at her as he snapped a comment.

Even from across the room, Kari could read the tension in his frame and decided to intervene before he caused a scene. Walking over to them, aware of the many sets of eyes upon the group of three, she fixed a smile on her face. Once those intense, blue eyes locked onto her and his posture softened marginally, her smile transitioned into a genuine grin. "Hey, Ivar, what are you doing here?" She asked, coming to stand between him and Gyda.

"Do I need a reason to come see you?" He smirked down at her.

That look released butterflies in her stomach but she ignored them to tease him back. "Usually that's how it works."

"And if that reason is to fulfill my quota?"

The blush that rose to her cheeks was so hot, she wondered if you could fry an egg on her face. Immediately, she dropped her chin to her chest, willing the warmth to vanish.

"Hmmm…. that blush for me, kattungen?" He shifted closer so his mouth was near her ear, his question asked in such a lecherous tone, Kari felt her core clench.

"Shut up." She mumbled, pushing him away. He rocked back on his heels, a smug grin on his face, and an amused chuckle leaving his lips.

Gyda patted Kari's shoulder, drawing the brunette's attention upward again. "Text me when you're done. We'll leave you with this grumpy asshole. I'm sure you can think of a way to cheer him up." She winked as she took a step away.

For a moment, Kari wished the ground would open up beneath her. Between Gyda's teasing comments and Ivar's blatant remarks and heated looks, Kari's face was going to be permanently red in an endless flush.

"Good luck on your trip, Ivar." Torvi called over her shoulder as she followed Gyda.

"Oi! Tell Bjorn to keep his big fucking mouth shut!" He yelled after the blondes; the tension returned with Torvi's parting statement. Glaring at the door the two women passed through, he muttered something in a foreign language as he rubbed his hand over his mouth. Briefly, his thoughts seemed to take him elsewhere but he quickly snapped back, blue eyes finding Kari once again.

It was only something she had realized lately, but when he looked at her, that consuming and burning gaze landing on her with all the impact of a sledgehammer, it made her feel like the only woman in the room. It was such a cliché thing, something stupid out of a romance novel, but it was the only way she could describe the feeling. When he looked at her like this, nothing else mattered in the room. She had his whole attention, all his focus. It was heady and powerful and terrifying and astounding. The weight of others watching made her skin itch but with his gaze locked on hers, lips tilted up slightly in the hint of a fond smile, she felt in the eye of a hurricane.

Her blue-green eyes dropped to his chest, unable to maintain eye contact when it left her feeling so flustered. Tugging on her earlobe, she quietly asked. "What are you doing here? I thought I wasn't seeing you until you picked me up for dinner tonight?"

"Something came up." Silently, he reached over and grasped her hand, causing her head to jerk up. Intertwining their fingers, he watched her with regret in his eyes. "I have to fly out to Italy in two hours."

"Oh. Is everything okay?" That was not what she had expected to hear. Her heart plummeted that their dinner would have to be canceled but tried not to let it show.

"Is there somewhere we can talk in private?"

"Um, sure." Emotions flickering between curiosity and concern, she guided him back to the studio room. The weight of eyes lingered as they walked, especially since he refused to release her hand. A brief glance at the front counter, only to see Lydia and Sasha both staring at her with amused and proud smiles, had Kari trying to hurry out of sight with Ivar in tow.

Soon as the door shut behind them, hiding them from view, he pulled her against his body, one arm wrapping around her waist, trapping her against him while the other hand gripped the back of her neck. He kissed her passionately, like a man dying of thirst and only she could save him.

"Ivar…." She tried to pull away, aware she was at work and anyone could walk in. Instead, he held her tighter, molding her body to his. The drugging kiss that followed had her all but melting against him, knees weak and her resolve disappearing like smoke in the wind. When she opened her mouth, inviting his tongue to dance with hers, the growl that erupted from him was so thready and rough, it called to a primal part of her, making her warm all over and a tightness grow in her belly.

It had been two days since they had seen each other and she genuinely missed him. They had been texting during that time, but it was not the same. She missed his presence, his touch, his kisses, his grumpy comments and the way he made her laugh. Even when he annoyed or frustrated her, he still was the color in her otherwise monochromatic world. And with each day that passed, her desire to push him away fractured a little bit more.

When their mouths finally unlocked, both panting and lips swollen and red, she was almost shocked the nearby mirrors were not fogged up. Breathless and overwhelmed, she pressed her forehead to his, her arms around his neck. For a minute they stood there peacefully, only the sounds of their ragged breathing and the occasional noise from those outside of the studio room broke through their tranquility.

"What's going on, Ivar?"

"Something with work."

"Does this have to do with why you've been so busy?"

He sighed but when he spoke in a hushed tone, the rage painting each word was undeniable. "Someone on the inside has been selling information about us." She gasped, shocked but when she tried to pull away to look at him, he tugged her back against him, placing his chin on the top of her head. "I think I know who the fucker is."

"That's why you're going to Italy?"

"Hmmm."

"Will you be safe?"

That made him chuckle, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Are you worried about me?"

She thought about making a joke, about teasing him about his recklessness. Instead the question knocked the air from her lungs momentarily, because the truth was, she was. What little she had gleaned about his work when he needed to vent, there was still an element of danger to it. She tipped her face up to look at him, her answer a quiet murmur that did nothing to hide the emotion behind her words. "Yes…. I don't know what I'd do if you got hurt."

The amusement in his eyes drained to be replaced with a softness that made her heart clench. He inhaled sharply and glanced away for a moment. "Fuck, kitten…." When he turned back, he kissed her tenderly, a slow melding of their mouths like the taste of her was a fine wine he wanted to sip on endlessly. There was a promise in his action, just as much as his words when he finally whispered against her lips. "I'll be safe, just meeting with a contact. That's all."

"Okay, just please be careful." Worry still tainted her, but she trusted Ivar to keep himself safe. He had been doing this job far longer than she had known him.

"Don't tell anyone about what I've said. No one else knows."

"I promise. Not a word."

"Good girl." He swatted her ass, making her squeak and glare up at him. "I'm going to have Hvitserk check up on you later."

"That's not necessary." She tried to say. She would hate to be a waste of time for the older Lothbrok. The look he gave her said to not argue with him. "Fine," she dramatically sighed, "maybe him and I will watch movies and cuddle since you're soooo busy. I wonder if he'd think my bed is comfy enough or if the couch is better?"

"Don't you fucking dare." He growled, gripping her waist in a possessive hold.

She just laughed at how easy he was to wind up. It was mean and she knew it.

He nipped at her bottom lip. "Keep playing, Kari and I'll have to punish you."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." She batted her lashes at him, failing to suppress a childish giggle.

He rolled his eyes, the twitch of his lips betrayed his amusement. "I need to go." He softly said though he made no move to release her from his arms.

With that a wave of worry and fear cascaded over her, it was unfounded she knew, but it still threatened to drag her into its depths. Not giving it a second thought, she raised up on her toes to plant a lingering kiss on his lips.

"You're not helping." He muttered, never removing his mouth from hers.

"Maybe take the next flight?"

"Don't tempt me, vixen. I'll lock that door and have my wicked way with you right fucking here until everyone hears you screaming my name."

Between the image he painted in her mind and his mouth having moved to her pulse point, heated arousal pooled between her legs. She gulped, her mouth suddenly dry and words sticking to her throat.

He leaned back, a devious smirk on his lips at her obviously flushed face. "No, my priestess," he purred, a filthy, predatory glint in his blue eyes, she could not help but gasp as her knees threatened to buckle under her. "When I finally have you, it'll be somewhere I can both worship you and fuck you all night long without fear of being interrupted."

She let out a shaky breath. "But, um…. we…. ah."

"Soon, Vakker, blir du min." He kissed her roughly, as if sealing his words. "I do need to leave. Walk with me." He took her hand, leading her out of the studio room, giving her no choice but to walk beside him. Not that her brain was fully able to make coherent decisions at the moment.

As they walked towards the front of the building, she wondered if their make-out session was obvious. Her lips felt red and swollen and a blush still colored her cheeks. A glance at Ivar showed his lips fuller but he appeared so calm and collected it was unfair.

"Did you like the dresses?" He asked, breaking her out of her thoughts.

"I do. They both are gorgeous, but they're too much. I don't have a reason to dress up that fancy."

"With me, you will. I'll get you some casual dresses too."

"Ivar…." She whined.

"You need more clothes, Kari."

"Fine. Not because I want more clothes but because I know you'll buy them for me anyway."

He winked at her, his tone smug. "I always get my way."

"You're unbelievable."

They stopped beside his SUV, parked next to the sidewalk. His driver was already in the driver's seat waiting. Kari made sure to wave at the man, earning a nod back from him. The driver was a huge guy with long, thick locks of white hair and a scar on his face. He intimidated Kari but she tried to ignore that and be friendly. Even if Ivar made fun of her for it.

"I should be back tomorrow unless some shit comes up." Ivar stated, opening the back door.

"Okay. Be safe."

"Stop worrying. Shit. I'll be fine." He remarked, sliding into his seat. Before he closed the door, he met her gaze. "I'll text you."

She smiled in acknowledgment and stepped back, giving him a quick wave as she headed back inside and his SUV started off.

Lydia leaned against the front counter with Sasha and Alicia now, all three watching her with expressions ranging from amused to shocked.

"Um, I'm going to…. go on my lunch break now." She mumbled and hurried away to grab her purse from the office, the sounds of laughter following her.

The stray thought crossed her mind that she would need some new bras if Ivar was set on buying her new clothes. Not that he would see those bras, but it would be good to have…. and maybe some matching panties.

*****

Summer was transitioning to fall, cool undertones intermixed with the residual warmth of a September evening.

Kari stared at the book in her lap but the words blurred together no matter how many times she reread the same line. She loved reading outside, sitting on the small patio behind the townhouse, especially when none of the neighbors were out. She could pretend it was her own place of solace, being out in nature. The sunlight shined through the line of pine trees separating their row of townhouses from the ones behind them, bird songs mixed with the sound of traffic from the nearby roads. She much preferred this too being stuck indoors.

Today though, her mind drifted like the breeze, but it all centered on a conversation she had not even ten minutes ago. If she listened closely, she could hear Alana through the screen door, making her dinner in the kitchen. She knew it was not Alana's fault, but the conversation still felt like a rug had been yanked from underneath the brunette. With everything going so well in her life, of course fate had to throw her a curveball.

Now her mind scrambled as what to do next.

A sound from her left had her glance over to see Erik stepping out of his back door. A boyish grin lit up his face when he saw her.

"Hi, Kari. Beautiful evening, isn't it?"

"Yeah. It is." She gave a half-hearted smile, watching as he closed the door behind him and stepped closer.

"Mind if I join you?"

She waved a hand at the patio set. "Not at all." Hopefully talking with Erik would be the distraction she needed for the moment, to pull her out of her quagmire of thoughts.

Dropping onto the cushioned chair to her left, he ran a hand through his dirty blond hair. In jeans and a t-shirt, he appeared ready to relax for the evening.

"What are you reading this time?" He asked curiously. This would not be the first time he had found her outside reading.

She reclined on the two-person, cushioned couch, legs up and bent with her open book resting against her thighs, wearing her typical leggings and slouchy shirt. At his question, she flashed him the cover. "The Princess Bride."

"Isn't that a movie?"

She pretended to gasp in horror. "Yes, but the book is still a classic."

He raised his hands in surrender, grin spreading across his face. “If you say. Not really my taste. So how was your day?"

"Nothing exciting. Yours?"

"The usual. Customers thinking they could do my job better than me."

She winced. "I know the feeling."

They made small talk for some time, talking about work and a documentary he recommended for her to watch. They argued which was the better coffee shop nearby, something they continuously disagreed on. Soon the upsetting conversation with Alana drifted to the back of her mind. It did not take long for her to close her book and set it on the ground so she could be fully invested in the conversation, especially when Erik became so animated about a topic, his hands waving around like a conductor in his enthusiasm. It was an endearing trait of his, but also alerted her to settle in because it meant he would not need much encouragement to keep talking.

The opening of the sliding door behind Kari stunted their conversation.

"Kari, someone is here for you." Alana said sweetly, stepping out onto the patio.

Unsure what she meant and since Kari never had visitors except for Ivar, she finally turned around. Only to be met with the view of Hvitserk leaning against the doorframe, a smirk on his lips. Standing there looking quite handsome in a dark navy business suit with a white undershirt, sans tie. Even his hair was nicely pleated back, making him look very professional and attractive.

"What are you doing here?" She asked in surprise, wondering if he just got off work.

Pushing off the doorframe, he meandered past Alana to approach Kari's side. "I came to check on you." He answered easily then scooped her up like she weighed nothing, making her squeal, and casually resettled them on the couch. Now he sat where she had been with her tucked against his side and his arm behind her. She also noticed how he purposefully put himself between her and Erik but chose not to comment on that.

"Ivar sent you, didn't he?" She grumbled, poking Hvitserk in the chest. "I told him it wasn't necessary."

"Well, you know him." He shrugged, that teasing smirk still adorning his lips. When she tried to poke him again, he snatched her hand and held it hostage, even as she tried to tug it back. Ignoring her, he turned his attention to Erik. "Hey, man. I'm Hvitserk."

"I'm Erik. I live next door." He responded warily, eyeing up the man as if debating to be friendly or not.

"Ah." With that understanding, Hvitserk seemed to give Erik a more assessing look before peering down at Kari. "You eat dinner yet?"

"Sorta. I'm not too hungry."

Alana spoke up from leaning against the other chair. "If you're hungry we can order something, Hvitserk. It's not a big deal."

Kari's head whipped around to stare at her roommate in shock. Never had Alana played the hostess to Kari or anyone she knew. Then she really noticed the coquettish look of her roommate- the fluttering lashes, the sensual biting of her bottom lip in mock innocence, the way she casually leaned against the chair in a way to best highlight the curves of her body. Kari wanted to sigh. Of course, the only reason Alana pretended to care was to try and entice Hvitserk. An attractive man in their home, it was as if Alana could not help herself.

Apparently the flaxen-haired Lothbrok noticed her flirtatious manner also. He tipped his head, eyes blatantly tracing over her body with appreciation. Kari could see the blonde preening under Hvitserk's gaze.

"Did I fuck you?"

What confident, amorous expression on Alana's face dropped in a second. "Excuse me?"

Hvitserk waved a hand dismissively. "Sorry, you seem familiar but I can't remember…. Did you fuck one of my brothers?"

Anger transformed her face, making her rigid and lip curled back in a snarl. "Fuck you, asshole." She shrieked, then stormed back inside, slamming the door shut.

He chuckled. "Huh. I take that as a yes…. ouch!"

Kari slapped his chest. "That was extremely rude and insensitive."

"Why? Because it's the truth?"

"You can't just…. ask something like that." She turned to look at the closed door, wondering if she should go apologize to Alana and check on her. After a moment's debate, she turned away from the townhouse, figuring seeking out Alana would most likely end up with a door slammed in her face.

Hvitserk shrugged, pulling his phone out of his pocket and checking it before slipping it back in.

His nonchalance baffled Kari. Did he not care that he just humiliated her roommate? Should she make him apologize? Though she doubted he would. Finally, she settled for just muttering, "you Lothbroks are unbelievable."

"Oh, are you related to…." Erik's question trailed off. Where he once had been relaxed back in the cushioned chair, now he sat tensely, one of his hands tapping his knee repeatedly.

"Ivar? Yeah, he's my brother." Hvitserk said with a knowing smirk.

"He's, um…"

"A crazy, mad bastard? Yeah. Don't recommend getting on his bad side."

"I was going to say intense."

Hvitserk threw his head back as he laughed. Even Kari smiled at the hesitant way Erik answered. Intense was an understatement for the youngest Lothbrok. "Yeah, he's family."

Erik then motioned between Kari and Hvitserk. "So are you two…. just friends?"

Before Kari could explain, Hvitserk jumped in to answer.

"Ivar and I share her."

Immediately Kari choked on air due to his candid response. Her gaze darted to Erik in horror, seeing his jaw dropped and eyes wide as saucers. Beside her Hvitserk cackled like a hyena at both of their expressions.

"That's not…. ugh! No!" Kari tried to speak, once she could functionally breathe again, only to cover her face as her words tumbled out of her mouth inelegantly.

"Awww, come on, Kari. You know I'm teasing." The elder Lothbrok tugged her hands away from her face, which only caused her to bury her face in his shoulder. "We know Ivar doesn't share. But if you ever get tired of his cranky ass, I'll be more than willing to show you a good time."

"Oh my god." She mumbled to herself, completely mortified. The evening had been going so well, and now…. all of this. Whose grave had she accidently stepped on today?

Erik awkwardly cleared his throat as he rose to his feet. "Um, I'm going to go."

"I'm so sorry, Erik." She elbowed Hvitserk when he refused to release her hands, earning an 'oof' from him. Turning her body to give Erik her full attention, she continued, hoping this had not ruined their friendship or his night. "I know this is last minute but do you think you can give me a ride to work tomorrow? If you don't want to, that's fine, especially after all of this, I wouldn't blame you."

"No, no. I mean, sure. It's not a problem. Just, ah, text me when you're ready."

She smiled gratefully at him. "I will. Have a good night, Erik!"

"You too, Kari." He gave her his signature boyish grin. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he looked at Hvitserk. "Nice meeting you."

"Yeah, nice meeting you too." He said back, draping his arm once again behind Kari.

Erik gave Kari another brief smile before disappearing back inside his townhouse, the door sliding quietly shut behind him.

Hvitserk continued to stare where Erik disappeared for a long minute before muttering, "boy better watch himself."

"What are you talking about?" She sighed out, feeling the lurking sensation of a stress headache coming on.

"He wants to fuck you. Ivar won't like that."

"What is with…. No. I'm ignoring all of that." She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. "Ugh, my evening was going so well until an hour ago."

"What happened? That guy showed up to bother you? Want me to tell him to lay off?" His questions came out in rapid-fire, concern infused in his voice.

"No, Erik is fine. It's …. it's nothing like that."

"So, what happened?"

"Nothing important. Have you heard from Ivar?"

He raised a brow at her dismissal but changed the subject. "Yeah, looks like he got what he needed so he'll be back tomorrow morning."

"Oh good."

"Hmmm…. which means he'll want to take you out tomorrow."

"He bought me some dresses." She softly confessed, fiddling with her diamond stud earring.

"I'd recommend wearing one of those."

She swatted at him, only to mirror the easy grin on his face. After a moment, she asked, "I just…. is it weird for him to do that?"

"What?"

"Buy me stuff."

"Does it bother you?"

"I don't know."

"If you want my advice, I'd say to let him." He lifted a finger to silence her protest. Her mouth snapped shut at his pointed look. Once he was sure she would not interrupt him, he spoke. "Ivar has never been good with…. verbally expressing affection, something I am sure he learned from our father. So he buys gifts, something he can touch and control. If he's buying you gifts, not out of obligation but because he wants to spoil you, then you mean a lot to him."

She pondered his words and how she felt about them. Never did she want Ivar to feel taken advantage of by her, especially in regards to his money. She would rather tear her own heart out than make him feel used again. It grated slightly how freely he wasted money on her. The dresses were lovely, something she could only dream of having with her current salary. But she worked hard for her life, to be independent. Even whenever they went out to eat together, he never let her pay for her own meal. She had given up that fight already but this…. It felt different. Yet what Hvitserk said slunk back to the forefront of her mind. If this was his way of showing affection, of letting her know he cared about her, would it do more damage to refuse his gift?

"How did you become so insightful into Ivar?" She teased, deciding to think about this more later.

He laughed, flicking her ear with the hand he still had behind her. "Out of necessity. I don't think anyone can fully understand him, not even himself."

"He's complex." She agreed.

"That's a nice way of putting it." He tipped his head to the side to meet her gaze. "Now, tell me what happened earlier."

"You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"Ivar told me to check on you. If I left you trying to hide tears and he found out, he'd probably break my hands or legs, not sure how particular he would be."

Biting her bottom lip, she debated blowing him off again. It was not his problem, she could deal with her own issues. But there was something about Hvitserk that made her feel comfortable around him. Even though he was under no obligation, he seemed to actually care about her.

Finally, she gave in with a sigh, laying her head against his shoulder. "Alana said…. Um, this townhouse belongs to her uncle. Him and his family moved into a bigger home and instead of selling this place decided to rent it out for a little extra cash. The rent is minimal, since he isn't renting to really make a profit. It's honestly the only way I've been able to afford being here. Well, Alana told me earlier that he is having to increase our rent. She didn't really tell me why but now it's going to be an extra 300 a month…. and I don't have that. So unless I want to find somewhere new to live, it kind of looks like I need to get a second job."

He waited a moment before flatly stating, "have Ivar pay the extra. Fuck, he'd probably pay your whole rent if you asked him too."

"No! I don't want that!" She sat up so fast, it was a miracle she did not fall off the couch. Her eyes turned to the brother beside her, wide and pleading. "Please don't tell him, Hvitty! I don't want him thinking I'm using him for his money. I…. I need to do this on my own somehow. I'll figure it out, honestly. I just wasn't expecting this to happen, that's all."

"You really don't care about our money, do you?"

"No." It broke her heart a little at the shock in his questioning tone. Did any of them ever expect someone to care about them without the influence of their money?

He stared off into the distance before looking back at her with a solemn expression. "I'll make you a deal. I won't say anything to Ivar about this, but if you are struggling, even if it's just one month's payment, you come to me and I'll help until you get your head above water again, got it?"

"Why would you want to help me?" She quietly asked, meeting his gaze.

He smirked. "I like you. You're genuine. Plus, you're also great for Ivar. I'd like you to stick around and if this is one way to help with that, it's an easy solution." He narrowed his eyes at her as she started to protest again. "Don't fight me on this."

"You Lothbroks are unbelievable. Fine." She laid her head back on his shoulder. "Thank you, Hvitserk…. and thanks for coming to check on me."

"Anytime. You've got my number. Just cause you're Ivar's woman doesn't mean we can't be friends. But my offer still stands, if you get sick of him, I'll be the first to snatch you up."

She laughed, heart feeling lighter than it had all afternoon. "Stop. I'm not Ivar's woman."

"You keep telling yourself that."

They sat quietly for a few minutes, watching the sky change colors.

"Mmmm…."

"What?" She looked up at him.

He peeked down at her with a shit-eating grin. "I still can't remember if I fucked your roommate or not."

"Gods, Hvitserk!"

*****

Before she fell asleep that night, she checked her phone one last time. A jolt of elation shot through her when she saw an unread text from Ivar. Her fingers fumbled with how quickly she tried to unlock her phone to read the text.

Ivar: good nite, kitten. C u 2morrow.

A silly smile on her face, she replied.

Kari: sweet dreams, Ivar.

After that, she plugged in her phone and curled up under her covers. Relief and excitement bled into her veins, allowing her to drift off to sleep with thoughts of the dark-haired Lothbrok coming home to her.

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