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nyanggk · 2 years

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LOVE ONLINE ! —

★彡CHAPTER 19彡★ : KOREAN SOIL (WRITTEN)

★彡pairing(s)彡★ : gamer!heeseung x gamer!fem!reader

★彡genre彡★ : slice of life, crack, smau, strangers to lovers, romance, fluff, comedy

★彡warning(s)彡★ : profanity, cringe, heeseung is a perv!, lots of gaming references esp. league, NSFW

★彡based on彡★ : real life! fun fact: this is actually how me and my long-term boyfriend met — with some modifications.

★彡a/n彡★ : as always, reblogs, likes, and comments are always very much appreciated. feel free to give me your feedback and critique.

"YN? Wake up" The soft voice of your dearest best friend, Jake, calls out to you in your sleep as he shakes your body awake in a gentle manner.

"Huh?" You absentmindedly reply, barely conscious as you had yet to break away from your sleepy state.

"We've landed already, dumbass," Jake laughs as he stands up from his seat to strap his black backpack around his broad shoulders. "If I were you, I'd get ready by now, but the chance of you getting left here is a bit too tempting."

Your face scrunches up in distaste, feeling dissatisfied with his comment. So you give your friend a fierce stare, reaching out to pinch his side to get back at him for making such a prude joke. Jake immediately lets out a loud grimace, turning his head to look at you with a scrutinising gaze. The action only makes you snicker as you don't fail to notice how the tips of his ears turn red with embarrassment when a few people turn their curious gazes towards him.

It's only now that you notice how everyone is getting ready to finally get off the plane; either fixing themselves, stretching, or fastening their luggage. And so, you excitedly stretch your body with an ugly yawn before finally standing up.

You had fallen asleep half-way along the horrendous flight with an oversized jacket draped around your body and the base of your head rested on Jakes capable shoulder.

Sleeping on the boy and being touchy with Jake has always been normal to you. You both have been close since the day you two met years ago and your relationship has only prospered platonically from then on.

If normal bystanders took a look at the both of you, they would think that the two of you were a couple. Whenever that happens, you would always laugh obnoxiously whilst Jake would be quick to correct them with a mischievous grin.

However, now that it's happening again, there's not even a hint of a smile threatening to make its way onto your face.

"Oh! Such young people falling in love, how wonderful" She sighs dreamily, unaware of how you staring at her with a frown as she talks on and on about your non-existent romantic relationship with your best friend.

"The both of you look so good together! Are the two of you on your honeymoon or something? If so, then you should go ahead and work on getting a baby. They said that making a baby in this time of the year brings good fortune." She rants on.

You have no idea who this lady is, nor do you remember doing anything to prompt her to come and talk to the both of you. But you know one things for sure: you were about to throw up your disgusting plane food at her if she keeps on talking about making babies with Jake. Not only are you grimacing at the thought of making babies with your best friend, but you also feel an incredible amount of disaproval because if you're going to make babies, you're going to make it with one person only. And that person is your yet-to-be-boyfriend, Lee Heeseung.

Jake would have said something by now if he could. But every time your friend tries to butt in and explain to her that the both of you were only best friends and that you came here to visit your families, she would dismiss him and continue to rave.

You're on your last straw. If she opens her mouth to explain to you how putting flowers on your stomach manifests a better looking baby one more time, you're going to throw hands. Literally. At her.

As if sensing how you were on the verge of lashing out, Jake makes a bold move and turns the old lady's body towards him, effectively diverting her attention from the both of you, to only him. He starts explaining shyly about how the two of you were the farthest thing from a couple and that you were actually here to meet your boyfriend.

The old lady gasps, and you almost burst laugh at how exaggerated her actions look. She apologizes to you immediately, even going as far as bowing to both you and giving you a small hug afterwards before walking away.

"Damn, was she acting or were Koreans always this dramatic?" You ask, habitually rubbing your bottom in relief now that she was gone. Your eyes turn incredulously wide as you fail to feel around for something in the back pocket of your denim pants.

"Holy shit! That fucking grandma just robbed me!"

"I swear to god, if I ever see that woman’s face again, I'm going to—" You declare angrily as you continue to make punching motions at the space in front of you.

Luckily for you, you were robbed by an actual old lady. By "actual old lady," you mean that she was actually old. Old as in she's too old to bolt into a full on sprint and outrun you. So, without much effort, you catch up to her and shamelessly confront her in front of all the people in the airport. This obviously caught the attention of the guards and she was soon escorted to their guarding room— or whatever you want to call it, so they could make their arrest.

From beside you, Jake chuckles loudly as he threw his head back, the both of you continuing to walk towards the exit.

"That has got to be the funniest thing that's happened to you in a while" He says.

Rolling your eyes at him, you were about to make a hilarious comeback that would've left him weeping like a little baby when all of a sudden, your feet seemed to trip on themselves, causing you to fall face first on the ground. Instead of helping you like a good friend, Jake only laughs even harder from beside you as he clutches his stomach.

You prompt your head on one of your hands while spitting out some dirt that unfortunately made its way inside your mouth. "Funny, I don't remember Korean soil tasting this bad."

"That’s because you're eating cement not dirt, YN"

"Oh" You realise. "Those anatomy studies you're taking are finally coming in handy, huh?"

"YN, I'm studying physics" He deadpans. "And what the fuck does anatomy have to do with eating cement?"

"I don't know science boy, you tell me" You shrug your shoulders in response, ignoring the invasive stares of the small crowd that pooled around you and stood up from where you had fallen on the ground.

Jake takes a deep inhale. "I'm starting to regret coming on this trip with you."

For the umpteenth time this trip, you roll your eyes. "You say that every year, Jakey. And yet here you are, be— Mom!" You scream out upon seeing your mother as she waved her hand towards the both of you.

She's leaning on her bright red car while she smiles at you and Jake. "Aww my baby!" She coos, her hands coming up to squish both of your cheeks. Your mouth scrunches together in a very... unflattering way, and you grunt when you hear the sound of Jake snickering from behind you.

"And oh my god! Is that Jakey?!" She exclaims excitedly, thankfully releasing your cheeks that were held hostage and moving on to do the same with Jakes. "Gosh, I haven't seen you in so long, dear!"

"Nice to see you too, Mom" You greet in a monotone voice.

"None sense, YN. I see your face all the time on that FaceHub app thingy of yours" She says, turning her body to look at you while she continue to hold Jakes cheeks in her palms. "It's Jake here that I haven't seen in so long. Isn't that right, darling?"

“It’s called “FaceApp”, Mom. Not “FaceHub.””

Jake was finally able to reply once your mother released him from her fierce grip.

...Okay maybe she wasn't fiercely gripping his cheeks, but you know what I'm getting at, right?

"Yeah, Auntie. It has been a while, hasn't it?" Jake smiles cutely.

"God mom, can we go home already? People are going to think you're his sugar mommy or something." You put a hand up to cover your face from the sunlight and the other coming up to rest on your hips.

Your best friend gives you a look as if telling you to shut up, and you only chuckle in response.

"Sure, but you have to tell me all about this Heeseung guy on the way home." Your mother says to which you only groan in response.

Eventually, Jake takes on the task of moving all your luggage in the trunk of your mother’s car by himself. Meanwhile, you relieve yourself from the impending heat by going inside the car and putting your face in front of the AC.

When all was done, Jake takes his place in the backseat while you sat beside your mother in the passenger seat of the car.

"So...?" She prompts.

"Yes, Mom?" You ask, feigning obviousness.

"Oh shut up! Just tell me about that Heeseung guy you've been talking so much about already!"

Jake laughs from the back of the car, and you can't help but scrunch your face once more just imagining how much fun that asshole is having.

"C'mon, YN. Tell your mother about Heeseung hyung already" He eggs on. "Cause if you don't, I will instead," He threatens as he smirks right after.

You know your mother. Once she finds out something that makes you embarrassed or shy, she’ll tease you about it until she finds something else to make fun of you. So, even though you’re dreading the jokes that you were sure she was going to throw at you in the future as you spend your days in the same house as your childish mother, you tell her all about Heeseung and how he’s managed to make his way through every crevasse of your fragile and imperfect self.

You told her how the both of you met through Jake and even showed her pictures of him that he sent you over the past couple of months you’ve known each other. She continued to listen as you raved on and on about how he would record himself singing and dancing for you. And she looked so proud and at peace as she listened to you squeal in your seat when you talked about how he’s asked you to go on a date with him the day after you land.

Jake listens from the backseat as you and your mother continue to talk about Heeseung as well as what you’ve been doing back in Australia. He has a mischievous grin on his face as he continues to move his fingers on the screen of his phone.

All his actions are oblivious to you, but your mother however, catches his snickers and excited smiles through the mirror, making a mental note to corner your best friend and ask him about it later on.

★彡previous , masterlist , next彡★

lolol sorry for the late-ish update >.<

imma prolly edit this in a little bit but tell me if there's any mistakes or if it's ok or not // I've been awake for 20 hours and i only had 4 hrs of sleep bcs of school and so my hands are shaking eodoemfoemf

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roymustangonly · 3 years

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Valueable Moments

A story in which you are a male Lieutenant working directly under Roy Mustang.

FULLMETAL ALCHEMIST BROTHERHOOD PART ONE SPOILERS!!

Though it always seemed that the man was stressed, you couldn't stand to see Roy in the state that he was currently in: hair pointed outwards in every which way, deep circles beneath his jet black eyes, and his overall sluggish demeanor.

The broken man took his seat at his desk, groaning as he laid his head in his arms for a moment. He didn't care about his appearance around you at the moment, knowing you'd excuse his current behavior. "Good morning, Sir." You chimed, attempting to forecast a bit of your energy towards him. A slightly less painful groan was left in return, causing the edges of your mouth to twinge in sympathy.

Today was a rather slow day, which would work in Roy's favour. It was a Friday morning, with most work being completed already from the previous four work days. There were a few papers that he needed to sign, however they could technically wait until the following week.

Roy didn't seem to move after he uttered that groan, which could only mean that he had fallen asleep. You couldn't help but smile, quietly placing your pen back in its holding cup. You stood from your seat and pushed in the chair carefully, walking over to the Colonel. The position that he was in didn't seem right for his back, so you decided to try to lift him. The man didn't seem like he weighed too much. With a height of 5'8" and a lean muscular composition, he was bound to be within your carrying capabilities. This was where your theories fell flat.

You placed your arm around his two legs, and another behind his back, ready to lift. However, Roy was much heavier than he seemed. He must be carrying more muscle weight than you anticipated. You huffed and removed your arms, gazing back at the man before you. He was still fast asleep. The poor man must not have slept last night. Who could blame him after losing Maes…

You sighed and placed your hand on his head, gently moving each strand of hair from his eyes. Normally he'd never let you do such a thing, but there was no opposition when he was this exhausted. The corners of his mouth moved upwards in a sleepy smile, eyebrows moving from furrowed to relaxed. You heard a quiet noise escape from him as he moved his head slightly, as if he wanted more.

You felt a small ping of excitement as you brushed your thumb from the bottom of his front hairs to the root. Your hand left his head as you removed your jacket, draping it over his shoulders to act as a blanket. You left a final pat on the top of his head as you quietly stepped away.

As you reached your desk you picked up your phone, scrolling the wheel to dial Armstrong's extension. Of course he’d be able to lift the Colonel. Plus, he seemed like he’d help the man. He proved to be an extremely compassionate individual. You tapped your foot quietly as you waited for him to answer, fingers grazing against the curled telephone line. Your mind drifted to what excuses you could make for Roy in the event that someone called. You bit your bottom lip as you brainstormed, nearly jumping out of your skin as you heard Armstrong pick up.

The thoughts that were once invading the weather of your brain were now scattered, like a few calm clouds in a serene evening sky. “Hello?” Armstrong greeted, seeming a tad confused. “Hello, Major Armstrong, this is Lieutenant L/N. I require your assistance in the office if that is all right.” You explained, keeping your tone quiet. “YOU REQUIRE MY ASSISTANCE? OF COURSE! I WILL BE THERE AS SOON AS POSSIBLE! THE ARMSTR-” You felt bad for hanging up abruptly, however even the voice in the telephone was too loud for the sleeping Roy across the room. He grumbled a grumpy noise and buried his head further into his desk, returning back to his immobile state. You sent a swift grin his way and made your way to the door, not wanting the Major to wake him up.

You exited the office and waited patiently for Major Armstrong, humming quietly to yourself. Meanwhile, Armstrong was running down the halls, elated that someone needed him. As you saw the Major, you put a finger to your lips, causing him to slow down in his tracks. He stopped in front of you and whispered… Rather, spoke in a normal tone for average beings. You weren’t sure if he was capable of legitimately whispering. “What do you need help with, Lieutenant?”

You pressed your pointer finger to your lips once again as you opened the door to the office, letting the Major in. His eyes opened wide as he whispered “Is he dead!?!?” You immediately closed the door and rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “The Colonel is asleep, and I’d appreciate it if you kept this between the two of us, Sir. Would you mind helping me lift him to the sofa? He seems quite exhausted and truly deserves the rest.”

Major Armstrong immediately melted and babbled about how kind of you that was, and how noble it was for you to ensure that he rested. You swore you could see hearts appear, framing his head as he continued to gush. When he was finished, he easily lifted the Colonel. Roy stirred a bit in his sleep but didn’t move much, as he was truly exhausted. The Major grinned ear to ear and giddily brought Roy to the sofa, placing him gently down. He gave the Colonel a light pat to the head and retreated back to you, nearly skipping due to the overall joy he was feeling.

You shook your head and let a crooked smile slip as the Major gushed to you. He swore that the Colonel leaned into him, like a small child. Armstrong was shaking with excitement, thanking you again for choosing him. You insisted that you should be thanking him, but he just seemed too damn happy.

As the Major finally exited the room, you rubbed your eyes and began to walk to your desk, stopping in your tracks as you heard your name. “Y/N…” Roy mumbled, eyes just barely open. You immediately turned around, walking over to your superior. You bent down so you were eye-level with Roy. “Yes, sir?” You asked, making sure to keep your voice down. “Why am I here… I n-” “Colonel, you need rest. I was quite unsure if you were even alive a few moments ago. Please do not argue with me, you deserve this rest. I’ve already taken care of everything else.”

He began to protest again, but his arguments were nearly as weak as his ability to stay conscious. You sighed and stood up, adjusting your uniform. “Rest well, Colonel.” You stated, turning back to face your desk. “Y/N wait-” You turned back around. Roy had a hand extended out, mumbling quietly: “Nap with me?” You immediately shut him down. Flirting? In this state? He is too persistent. You couldn’t even tell if he was being serious, due to his tone of voice, as well as not knowing his sexuality.

Roy gazed at you and sleepily smirked. “What if I told you that was an order?” You knew this had to be a joke, but for some reason the delivery of it felt off. You couldn’t help but catch the bit of yearning behind his fake demanding tone. How were you supposed to say no to that? Especially when there was a chance that he was serious. If anything, you could simply state you were following orders. There was no way you could be outed… right?

The thought of doing so made your head spin. You couldn’t tell his intentions and it was a bit overwhelming. The possibility of being outed, and having Roy disgusted with you, caused a wave of anxiety to hit. You began to sweat beneath your shirt, still looking for any sort of social cue. Roy groaned and placed his left hand over his eyes. “You are no fun…” He grumbled. For some reason he sounded genuinely upset, and that was all you needed to hear. Now, you were sure he was serious. “Okay.” He uncovered his eyes and sat up slightly. “Okay?” “Okay.”

You removed your uniform boots and sighed, awkwardly lying next to Roy. For some reason, knowing he was serious made it even more anxiety inducing. Though he was half asleep, Roy noticed your stiffness and wrapped an arm around you, laying his head on your chest. This caused your cheeks to warm. He smirked and closed his eyes, placing his other hand on your abdomen to rest. You moved your arm to support Roy’s head and placed your hand on his shoulder, fully holding him.

You took a few breaths and attempted to calm yourself, oblivious to the fact that Roy could hear your heartbeat. Deep down Roy was as smug as ever, but he decided to keep that to himself, not wanting to add to your anxiety. “Is this… okay?” You mumbled, unsure of how exactly this was supposed to work. Being in the closet caused you to avoid relationships, fearful that someone would harm you, or worse, your partner.

“Yes, Y/N. This is fine.” He stated reassuringly, holding in a chuckle. You exhaled in relief and lifted your right hand, threading your fingers through his hair. Though it seemed spiky, it was surprisingly soft, which was a pleasant surprise. Roy hummed and let you comb through his hair, feeling a bit generous today. Especially since you did agree to comfort him as he slept. Though, he’d never admit this.

You closed your eyes and continued to card your fingers through each strand, feeling the fatigue begin. After a few minutes you opened one eye, peeping down at Roy. He was fast asleep, right arm hugged tightly around your middle. You grinned ear to ear, feeling grateful that you were allowed to see the Colonel in this vulnerable, precious state. You adored seeing his head move slightly upward with each breath you took, and back down when you exhaled.

Was this what relationships felt like? Was your fear causing you to miss out on these moments? You shook these thoughts away, not wanting to ruin this valuable moment. You closed your eyes and held Roy tight, unsure when you’d ever be able to do this again. Even if you couldn’t, this one moment would satisfy you for a lifetime.

Sorry if this is considered too similar to the last! I’ve been going through a lot lately, and comforting others is really just... stress relief to me. I usually write depending on my mood and I’m sorry if this gets annoying! Any constructive criticism would be great as long as it isn’t too harsh! Thank you for reading!

PS: All my works are unfortunately unedited. I do not have the patience to reread my longer works. Apologies!

Word Count: 1776

#roymustang #roy mustang x male reader #roy mustang x reader #FMA #Fullmetal Alchemist #fmab roy #fullmetal alchimist brotherhood #Roy Mustang

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clean-bands-dirty-stories · 3 years

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In Your Arms ~J.M.

A/n: This wasn’t a request that inspired me to write a lot, so I didn’t, but I hope y’all enjoy this sweet little short! It’s been in my drafts way too long and I want to get more of these done so I can get to recent requests :)

Request: “...jack Morton x male reader where the reader is human of the pack and he always sleeps on the couch until the pack comes home. Jack thinks it’s adorable and carries him to his room and maybe they have a sleep talking conversation like reader:“no I have to wait for jack.” Jack:”why” reader:”because I like him”...”

Word Count: 1800+

MASTERLIST

Listen, being a werewolf in a human world is hard enough especially when it comes with a whole new world of secret societies and magic and literal demons and magic and endless rules that you have to learn and oh did I mention ACTUAL MAGIC?

It is exponentially harder when you make things worse by shoving a human into that world.

Y/n didn't have a werewolf ability to defend himself, or heal him when he got hurt. He didn't have magic... which you know thinking about it now, might be a good thing. He'd rather be useless than be part of the Order.

That was the problem though, wasn't it? He had chosen to be useless. That's what he was now.

I mean sure, he'd read the books Jack had given him enough times to memorize them, and he was getting used to playing doctor. He was also getting really good at helping in small ways. Helping Hamish grade papers, or doing one night of homework for Lilith, or passing some messages around when Randall forgot because he was busy with supernatural stuff. He was great to talk or rant to, and all of the Knights had been utilizing the very nice ability to go off to someone who actually listens. Sure, he had fallen into a habit of taking notes for the Knights in the classes he had with each of them, if they missed. But... that was just school stuff. Sure it took off a lot of the pressure in the long run (a lot more than he probably even realized), but if they died what the fuck did school mater?

When Jack almost died after the whole meltdown with Silverback a while ago, it had really pushed Y/n into gear. He was a lot faster at responding to things; a lot more eager to help; and above all, the single most annoying person ever when it came to asking about going along to showdowns to play backup.

The others simply refused again and again, and, again and again, he would end up sitting in an empty room as he pretended to focus on whatever task he had given himself to kill time before the worry got to him and he just curled up on the couch ad stared at the ceiling. Worry ate him alive for several hours, and then he'd fall asleep. Most of the time because things always went far later than intended, but also sometimes because between being a student, having a job, scrambling to cover for your friends too, and spending several hours emotionally exhausting yourself with unimaginably high stress levels, one simply passes out.

As Y/n's falling asleep became more and more of a habit, things started to get complicated. Because the thing was, he always fell asleep waiting, so he would be in the Den's living room, uncomfortably scrunched on the couch. They'd left him there a few times and he always woke up sore and aching. They'd tried to wake him up a few times and, half delirious, he had overly emotional reactions. After he had broken down into tears at how happy he was to see all of them alive and then been so embarrassed he hadn't talked for three hours the next day in pure shame, they had decided against the waking him up method. Which only left one option: one of them carried him to bed.

Lilith had tried, but the size difference between her and Y/n was big enough that it was jst awkward for her. She was small (even though she'd never admit it). She's end up waking him up, or dropping him, and that was the last thing they wanted.

Hamish had also tried, but he was really awkward and didn't know how to let Y/n get comfortable in his arms while walking around so that he wouldn't wake up, so Y/n often would. Then it would be super awkward as they just stared at each other. Their relationship was too brotherly and rigid to make room for touching it seemed.

Of course Randall had given it a try, and he was actually fairly good at it, but as much as he was big enough to actually carry Y/n, and at ease enough to let Y/n stay asleep, he wasn't good at maneuvering, which often left him pinned under Y/n when he actually put the sleeping boy to bed. Which lead to a lot of them cuddling. Which, while that was chill and platonic and fun and stuff, made Jack super jealous.

Oh yeah, Jack had a HUGE crush on Y/n, so it only felt right that eventually everyone left it up to Jack to take Y/n to bed. He could pick Y/n up, carry him to bed, and put him in an actual bed without any problem. Y/n didn't know this was happening. He had gotten used to everyone taking turns carrying him to bed, and they hadn't said anything so he assumed they'd just gotten better at it.

That's probably why on one particular night, he didn't simply assume that he was talking to Jack when he was picked up and began to be carried to bed.

That night was different, because Jack and Y/n had plans to study. Jack had an important test the next day and he and Y/n had the class in common, so Y/n had volunteered to stay up a little later to go through what Jack had missed. It had gotten derailed when Jack had been called away for Knight business, but Y/n had only written it off and told Jack that he'd still be there when it was over and they could continue if Jack was up for it. Unfortunately, it was one of the really time consuming ones, and Jack didn't get back until well into the night.

Dutifully, Y/n was asleep on the couch. His face was contorted oddly. Even asleep, the couch was uncomfortable enough to leave him with a permanent frown, even if it was soft since he was asleep. Jack wasn't surprised though - the couch was so small it barely fit two people on a good day, so sleeping on it was not a fun time.

Considering all of that, Jack thought it incredibly adorable that Y/n found a way to fall asleep on it anyway. They had told him a hundred times to just go to sleep in his bed, but he had refused time and time again. He had insisted that he needed to be as accessible as possible if nything went wrong. If they needed him, he had to be close. He insisted that it was best to be on the couch, and had sworn that he was trying to get into the habit of not falling asleep. But he always did, and he always ended up in the exact same situation. Not that Jack minded. It gave him a prime moment to hold his crush.

He scooped Y/n up now, smiling as the sleepy boy's head fell on Jack's chest. He sucked in a small breath but then settled. Jack chuckled to himself as Y/n pressed his nose into Jack's shirt, burying his face to get closer to the closest source of warmth since he didn't have a blanket. Jack began to carrying him to the stairs to head upstairs, but was stopped when Y/n's foot caught just a second on the doorframe. See, earlier Jack had hurt his arm. Due to werewolf healing it was almost fine, but it was still quite sore, and the tug on his shoulder when Y/n's ankle caught on the wall, forcing his leg into Jack's shoulder... Well it wasn't a big enough pain to make him drop Y/n or shout or anything, but it was enough to startle Y/n just a little bit awake.

"Wh- what?" Y/n mumbled, blinking heavy eyelids as he tried to look around. Jack winced, feeling guilt rise. "What happened? What did I miss?" His words were slurred, and it was obvious that he was barely conscious.

"Nothing," Jack reassured, hoping Y/n would just go back to sleep. If he knew Jack was there he would insist on staying up and helping. It would be nice and much appreciated - since Jack really did need help - but more than Jack needed help, Y/n needed sleep. He had been crashing on the couch for a reason; he was exhausted.

So Jack immediately rushed to soothe, "Nothing happened, just hit your foot on the wall by accident. Go back to sleep."

Y/n huffed, a whine in his voice when he argued, "No put me back." Jack tried to swallow a smile. It was adorable seeing a sleepy, whiny Y/n and that on top of his sleepy voice that was low and grumbly and kept cracking and having the boy in his arms, Jack was having a hard time not feeling a bit giddy.

He tried to keep his head on a little longer though. He needed to get Y/n to bed. "And why do you NEED to go to bed?" He teased lightly.

"I have to wait for Jack," Y/n mumbled, trying to blink the sleep out of his eyes. "We have plans."

Jack's smile turned warm. He thought about telling he who he was, but if he did then he'd NEVER get Y/n to sleep, so he decided to lean into the misconception that he was no in fact himself. "Jack will understand. It's late, you need to sleep."

"No," Y/n insisted with a firmer voice. He tried to struggle, but it was genuinely so pathetic that only a few seconds later he was still.

It made Jack wonder what Y/n was so desperate for though. "Why not?"

"He has a test tomorrow," Y/n explained with a soft irritation. "He needs help."

"You don't have to help him," Jack reminded softly, feeling suddenly guilty for some reason. Had he made Y/n feel obligated to help him?

"No I don't," Y/m agreed. "But I want to."

"Want to what?" Jack joked. "Stay away with a loser like him and lose sleep you need?" He had reached the top of the stairs now, and was headed to Y/n's door.

Y/n just rolled his eyes. "He's not a loser, but he does need help, and I can sacrifice a little sleep to help him with something he really needs. Making small sacrifices liek that is just what you do when you love someone."

Jack froze. WHAT?

When it was quiet for a long stretch of time, Y/n finally succumbed to the tiredness and his soft snores vibrated against Jack's chest. He cleared his throat and shook his head, opening the door and putting Y/n to bed. When he left the room, closing the door behind him, he came out with the biggest fucking grin he had ever worn.

Y/n like him back.

They had a lot to talk about tomorrow, and none of it had anything to do with a stupid test Jack no longer remembered. Because he loved Y/n too, and that's all he could think about right now.

Sorry Miss Styne.

#jack morton #the order #knights of saint christopher imagine #knights of saint christopher x reader #the knights of saint christopher #knights of saint christopher x male reader #the order x male reader #the order imagine #the order x reader #jack morton x male reader #jack morton x reader #jack morton imagine #male reader #the order of the hermedic blue rose

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equestrianwritingsstuff · 3 years

Note

That last bthb piece you wrote was just *chef's kiss* perfection, magnifique, I want more!!!

Thank you for the ask, I am so glad you liked it!

One Month Part 2

Part 1

Warnings: jealousy, forced sedation mention, fear of being drugged, pills (tylenol), low-grade fever, angry character, being kicked out, wound imagery, broken bones, infection

Hero paced as he waited for Supervillain to wake up again. He was mad, angry, even to the point of ferocity. That sick, slimey bastard had been captivating his girlfriend's attention for days. Not that he consciously did it, and that was the reason Hero inwardly chastised himself for those inappropriate feelings. It wasn't Supervillain's fault, but someone had to take the blame.

So he waited impatiently for the supervillain's eyes to open, so he would be conscious of the way he was changing Civilian. Not that they were major changes, or changes in appearance or personality- she was still breathtakingly gorgeous and so full of love and compassion, deeply imbedded in that grouchy attitude. In all honesty the only way she so-called "changed" was because her undivided attention was completely and utterly focused on one being the house that was not Hero.

Was he selfish? Absolutely. Was it wrong? Was it wrong to feel this way towards someone who saved the girl he cared so much about? Definitely, but it couldn't be stopped. Anger and rage were settled, and so now it was time for revenge.

Supervillain blinked open his eyes in the middle of one of Hero's passes in front of his bed. The hero bounded over, pressed his fist into the wall, and hovered over Supervillain's awakening figure.

Slowly, the sleep-filled eyes cleared and became more aware of their surroundings as the grogginess melted away. They looked around, green irises taking in every feature of the bedroom as if they had never viewed such a place before- which they had, each and every time Supervillain pushed through unconsciousness. But of course, he never remembered, for these brief moments of loopy consciousness didn't have absorbent qualities.

Soon, those same foresty eyes met Hero's face. He smiled, imagining the fear that Supervillain was feeling. Though, it wasn't for certain, the subtle clenches of his jaw signalized those emotions.

"How are you feeling bud?" Hero asked, assuming a kind tone. Supervillain gave a wobbly smile as he gaze fell downcast. Hero's heart, the last bits of sympathy for the man, dropped.

Supervillain obviously was in pain and the fact that he was laying on his backside probably did not help.

Hero picked Supervillain up, flipped him over, and dropped him roughly on the bed. Supervillain bounced one, coughing and groaning as he squeezed his eyes shut.

Hero's arrogant smirk faded for a moment before upturning again. He traced his fingers over the festering wound and dug his fingers in.

Supervillain screamed, but Hero was quickly able to cover his mouth with his hand. He tried to ignore Supervillain's teeth and tongue as they desperately tried to remove the humanoid gag.

"This is for turning my girlfriend into your personal maid," Hero growled like he was the villain in the story, not Supervillain. Oh was this so wrong, but the unreleased rage overcame those thoughts of humane empathy.

Supervillain whimpered even louder as Hero's fingers met with the cracked bones. He kicked out with his legs, arms punching into the mattress.

"Yeah, how you like that huh?" Hero taunted, grabbing Supervillain's ear and pulling it down. Supervillain's whole head went with it and a loud crack echoed throughout the room. Supervillain quit writhing for a moment, stunned slightly.

Hero didn't care. He just kept on torturing Supervillain until a horrified voice interrupted him.

"What are you doing?!"

Hero spun around, meeting the gaze of his mortified girlfriend.

"What are you doing?!" She exclaimed again, crouching down to look in Supervillain's dull eyes. They were without any emotion as they blankly stared at Civilian.

Hero felt that anger in his chest, but it was nullified by the horrific dawning of his deeds. He kicked a man when he was already down.

Never do that. That was the first rule in the Hero's Code, even before not engaging in any villainous parties or organizations unless otherwise stated by the Agency.

He broke the code.

But didn't he before? Taking in Supervillain?

Civilian stood up abruptly, grabbing the collar of Hero's shirt and pushing him back, fire in her eyes.

"Why would you do that?" She snarled, pushing him out the door and into the hallway. Hero was practically rendered helpless by shock and the reality of his wrongdoings.

"You-you," Hero tried to defend himself in the most futile manner. "He took you away from me!"

But still, his defenses were weak.

"How?" Civilian asked, thrusting both hands against Hero's chest. "How in the world did he take me away from you? He hasn't spoken a word to me! Or even actually looked at me."

"You have been coddling him for days," Hero replied, rushed.

Civilian gaped, throwing her hands in the air. "Okay Wicked Witch of the West-"

"Hey!"

Civilian smirked. "He saved my life and now I am trying to save his. I am sorry I haven't given you your required twenty-four hours of hugs and kisses."

Hero was silent, but a sudden pull on his shirt ended the split moment of awkward silence.

"What are you doing?" He asked, digging his heals into the ground, but Civilian grabbed his arm and yanked him towards the frontdoor.

"This is my house and I can't clearly trust you with my patient. Get." She pushed Hero out the door and slammed it in his face.

Hero slid down the door, hand trailing down the smooth material. Tears spiked at his eyes as he landed on the doorstep in a sobbing heap.

《~~》

Civilian walked over to the bed and checked on the wound. It was bleeding- just a small trickle of crimson liquid. He was unconscious again, head pressed into the downy pillow.

She refrained from rubbing his head like she would do for her boyfriend. Hero's actions were unjustifiable and utterly cruel, but that did not mean that she would betray him.

But still, tender loving care was the only way for him to actually heal.

She grabbed some numbing ointment and rubbed it around the reddened, tender skin surrounding the wound. Then she lathered the interior, avoiding the exposed ribs, and placed an icebag around the whole thing.

Supervillain didn't wake, his face remaimed placid and relaxed as he slept. Civilian with hands of professional talent, gently opened his mouth and placed a thermometer under his tongue. It beeped, reading a prime number of 101.9. It wasn't too bad, but likely wasn't fun either.

"Wake up," Civilian jostled Supervillain's shoulder until his green eyes broke open lethargically. He looked around, squinting, until they fell on Civilian's face.

"Get away," he growled, hugging himself protectively. His teeth bared, jaw clenched as he angrily stared Civilian down. She looked away, sighing.

"Listen," she said. "I'm not going to hurt you. Do you even recognize me?"

Supervillain observed Civilian for a while before nodded slowly. "You're Civilian," he mumbled.

"Mhm," Civilian hummed as she put a couple pills in his hands. He looked at them skeptically before throwing them half-way across the room.

Civilian frowned, looking at the discarded, white tablets. "You need those," she said.

"You're going to drug me," the supervillain accused, fear radiant in his gaze.

"It's tylenol," Civilian sighed, giving him a couple more. He stared at them, calculating, before shoving them into his mouth- not even bothering with water.

"Just don't hurt me when I'm out again, please," he begged before closing his eyes, asleep.

Civilian smiled. The pills truly were Tylenol, but he was just so exhausted and tired that he gave up. Poor guy.

Tentatively, she pulled the covers over his bare shoulders and went to the kitchen to make some soup.

#supervillain whumpee #civilian caretaker #injured supervillain #hero whumper #heros and villains #jealous hero #supervillain x civilian #hero x civilian #angsty romance #between civilian and hero that is

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dhwty-writes · 3 years

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On the Benefits of Trancing

This is a bit late, but was in fact written for Day 2 of sgtober, Can't Sleep. It's very fluffy, have fun reading!

Summary: There are several reasons why Essek prefers trancing over sleeping. Firstly, as difficult as it may be to leave yourself vulnerable for eight hours at a time, he finds it even more challenging to imagine his friends defenceless. Secondly, sleep, inevitably, will give birth to dreams. And no matter if they are foul or fair, they torture him all the same. And lastly, well—.Essek reminisces about the strange habit of sleeping and his even stranger habit of sharing his bed with Caleb whenever he can't sleep.

Warnings: None, as far as I’m aware

Read on AO3

Sleep is a curious thing, Essek muses, that he doesn't understand and hasn't particularly cared for up until this point. It is a childish thing, and wild and vulnerable and oh-so terribly time consuming. Truth be told, for most of his life he has pitied the other races who are forced to bow to the whims of nature in that way.

Like so many things, that changed when he met the Mighty Nein. Well, not when he met them necessarily—back then he may or may not have been quietly plotting their demise for returning his carefully stolen beacons—but certainly when he started travelling with them.

As many aspects of elven cultures are, trancing is a solitary activity, a silent contemplation of one's most private thoughts to better cope with them. Shock and surprise don't even begin to cover his feelings when Caleb first cast his dome and Essek found out that sleeping, as many things for the Mighty Nein, is a rather communal event.

He had eight whole hours to come to terms with those implications—did they not realise what it meant, the trust one had to place in another to sleep in front of them? Did they not care? Or did they, by some miracle, in fact trust him that much?

When he came out of his trance the next morning, he realised some of the members of the Nein had moved during the night, curling closer to and around each other. Cuddling, they called it, and Essek's pity melted away, turning into something more bitter, more poisonous. Envy.

There is something about sitting upright, floating a few inches off the ground while surrounded by people holding each other that can make you feel so incredibly lonely, and that has to say something. Nearly a century of solitude spent between too-large, too-empty towers, too-secretive and too-pious schools, and a too-scheming and too-paranoid court have never left him feeling as isolated and bereft as that morning with the Nein did.

Of course, back then he didn't have the words to describe the feelings swirling in his chest. Nor did he have the words to ask for them to include him in their affections, lest he be presumptuous. That, to quote Caleb Widogast, takes time. Surprisingly little of it, if he is perfectly honest.

A few months down the line, he stopped floating while trancing and when he resurfaced the next morning, he found himself leaning against Fjord, who had taken the last watch. When he jerked away in embarrassment, Fjord blinked awake, too, a disgruntled look on his face, growling that he should stop moving around so much.

Despite his shame, Essek complied and held completely still until the rest of the Nein woke up. After that, he began to dabble into the casual intimacy his friends share. He even tried to sleep, occasionally.

In the beginning, he felt very self-conscious about it. He would wake up with messy hair, or drool on his pillow, or, worst of all, tucked close to Caleb. Another effect of the Mighty Nein, though, is that they very quickly rid you of your sense of shame. So, he no longer cares if he looks a mess, if his clothes are rumpled, or if he's getting spit on Veth's backpack. Just the last thing he can't help but feel embarrassed about.

There are several reasons why he still prefers trancing, though. Firstly, as difficult as it may be to leave yourself vulnerable for eight hours at a time, he finds it even more challenging to imagine his friends defenceless. He much prefers being able to watch over them for at least half of that time.

Secondly, sleep, inevitably, will give birth to dreams. And if sleep is childish, wild, and vulnerable, dreams are tenfold so. He often contemplates his crimes during his trances, as well as the discarded timelines, the lost possibilities that could have led to even more death, destruction, and despair. He frequently considers members of the Assembly lording their victory over him, disposing of him, torturing his friends. However, in his trance, he can choose to abandon these timelines. Dreams offer no such luxury. Once in their cruel grasp, you have no choice but to see them through.

Nightmares are one thing, but dreams are another. Even the pleasant ones often come unbidden, worming themselves through his subconscious to pluck out— What exactly Essek should call them, he isn't sure. He wouldn't dare name them wishes or hopes, for that would imply a certain level of possibility for them to come true. These visions are desires, more like, though that term implies a certain passion that does not fit the circumstance.

These unsought fantasies often include the Mighty Nein, years or decades from now. How they would still seek him out, include him in their midst. He dreams of feasts and festivals, of hugs and humour, of truthfulness and trust. And then there are other, even more forbidden dreams featuring him and Caleb. He dreams of soft kisses and gentle caresses, lazy nights spent in the tower reading books, of research and adventures and normalcy, of waking up as close to each other every day as they do from time to time on accident. He would love his future to look like this, but he knows there is a very little chance for that.

So, no matter if the dreams are foul or fair, they torture him all the same.

And lastly, well—

There is a knock on his door and Essek's heart lurches. "Come in," he calls as calmly as he can manage, forcing himself to slowly close the book he hasn't been reading instead of slamming it shut and scrambling to his feet.

The door opens silently, as all doors within the tower do, and Caleb slips inside. He's wearing simple sleeping clothes and Essek silently curses himself for already closing the book, so he can't even pretend to read that instead. "I, ah— I'm sorry for intruding... again," Caleb says, self-consciously tugging at his sleeves. "I hope I didn't wake you?"

"Not at all," he answers, barely keeping himself from saying: 'I was waiting up.' Instead, he opts for: "I was still reading."

"Anything interesting?"

"Are you trying to tell me that you have stored uninteresting books in your mind, Caleb Widogast?"

"Plenty," he deadpans and Essek chuckles.

"It's called The Creation of Silver." He turns the plain cover over to Caleb, to jog his memory. Based on what he could gather by skimming the first pages, it promises to be a rather run of the mill romance novel following the story of a Dwendalian noble trying to escape their arranged marriage. "So far, I find it quite entertaining."

"Ah, yes." Caleb quickly glances away, a faint blush colouring his cheeks. "Have you reached the part where Stefan leaves for the city yet?"

"I have not."

"Then I will not spoil you." Another tug on his sleeve. "The plot really picks up at that point."

Essek tilts his head to the side, studying Caleb. According to the clock in his room, it is past midnight, which is quite late for the human to still be awake. Yet, he is just hovering in his doorway, caught between stepping inside and leaving again. "I presume you did not come here to discuss my evening reading matter."

"Ah..." He tugs at his sleeves again. "No, I did not." As always, Caleb is as incapable of voicing his needs as Essek is.

Thankfully, Essek is not nearly as apprehensive when it comes to his friends' well-being as he is when his own is concerned. "Should you have trouble sleeping, you know you are more than welcome to stay. Seeing as we are to make progress tomorrow, I am very invested in you having a restful night."

Not being able to sleep is another thing about that practice that Essek cannot understand. Trancing is a matter of will, discipline, and tranquillity and he's always assumed sleep to be the same. He supposes it is, to some degree.

But travelling with the Mighty Nein, and Caleb specifically, has taught him that you cannot force sleep. There are circumstances under which they will toss and turn for hours, unable to find rest. Not even Beau's meditation, which he considered relatively close to his trance, seemed capable to calm a disturbed mind enough for sleep.

He has, however, also discovered that for certain members of the Mighty Nein, certain methods will accomplish the necessary peace of mind. Caduceus' tea appears to be able to work miracles, time and time again. Beauregard likes to tire herself out by running drills, while Jester usually draws in her sketchbook. Yasha tends to make flower crowns or, lacking flowers, braid other people's hair. Essek has been subjected to that numerous times so far and despite his aversion to Dynasty braids, he doesn't hate it. Fjord usually ties sailor's knots, and Veth sorts through her various collections.

Caleb, though? Caleb, for some reason, only needs another person to fall asleep next to. And for some reason, despite the numerous options he has, he chooses Essek more often than not. Not that he's complaining, of course. In fact, he may enjoy it a little too much.

Caleb laughs quietly as he often does at their antics. They have long since learned the rules to this strange game they are playing. "Well, if you put it like this..." he says as he rids himself of his slippers—Hausschuhe, he has explained to Essek, a very important part of Zemnian culture—and puts them next to Essek's. "I would hate to disappoint you, Herr Thelyss."

'You couldn't,' he thinks as he pulls back the covers. Instead, he says: "Indeed." As always, he freezes in place when Caleb joins him on the bed, scooting closer until they are nearly touching. Being this close to each other is not getting any less mortifying, no matter how long it has been since Caleb first came knocking on his door.

He still remembers that night in vivid detail. As so often, Essek has been reading and just got up to get a cup of tea. When he stepped out of his rooms, he nearly collided with a wizard who had convinced himself that his suffering wasn’t important enough to trouble him with. “Do you want to come in?” he said to his own surprise. To his even bigger surprise, Caleb accepted.

They sat on Essek’s couch and talked about everything and nothing at once. Hours later, with his throat gone dry, Essek asked: “Shouldn’t you be asleep by now?” The moments the words left his mouth he knew he’d said something wrong.

Caleb shot to his feet as if burned and Essek followed suit. “I am so sorry, friend. I will not continue to disturb you any—”

“Where are you going?” he interrupted him, perhaps a little irritated. “Give me some credit, Caleb Widogast; I am capable of far subtler ways to rid myself of an unwelcome visitor. Which you are not.”

He laughed self-consciously and said: “Regardless, I should go and rest. Schlaf gut, Herr Thelyss.”

“You could stay,” he blurted out before he could stop himself. “I mean—I noticed your sleep to be more restful when you are around others. I am aware that I am not your first choice, but since the others are not here—You’re welcome to stay, if it at all helps.”

Caleb hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“Certainly.”

“In Ordnung,” he answered finally. Essek is still glad he had thought to float for that conversation. That way, at least, his knees didn’t give out.

A short discussion about who should take the bed followed before they stubbornly agreed to share it. Essek came to regret that immediately after when he was confronted with the practical implications of ‘sharing a bed’.

“Make yourself at home,” he said. Caleb took some time to rearrange the pillows and blankets—just like he does now—while Essek hovered nearby. Literally.

It took several reminders from Caleb for Essek to not instinctively recast his floating cantrip, but eventually they managed to lie down next to each other with a minimal amount of awkwardness. They have moved past that initial apprehensiveness by now, Essek thinks while he pretends to read. Shortly after, Caleb flops down, close enough that Essek can feel his breath ghosting over his cheeks.

“Good night, Caleb Widogast,” Essek says, stubbornly staring at the pages and nowhere else. "Do you want me to dim the lights?" He doesn't need them anyways; he just likes to appreciate the room Caleb made for him in all of its colours.

"No, I think I would like to read a bit. I am quite fond of that book."

"You are?" Essek looks down to him in surprise. ‘If Caleb tilts his head,’ the thought hits him, ‘he could rest it on my shoulder.’ He just thought it to be one of the countless books Caleb has read in his life, nothing special. "Why?"

He blushes again. "Ah— I think you'll see. The title is more literal than one would assume."

He considers the book once more, trying to discern what Caleb means with his words. ‘Luxon help me,’ he sends a silent prayer. It wouldn’t be the first time for him to pick up a romance novel that turns out to be quite a bit more explicit than anticipated. To think that such a mistake may have happened to him with Caleb so close—He thinks he might just combust from embarrassment.

"Do you mind flipping the page?" Caleb asks with a yawn, startling Essek out of his thoughts.

"Oh, of course," he says belatedly and turns the page. He hasn't read the last one yet, but nor has he read the one before, so it hardly matters. The novel has a rather shallow plot, so he has no trouble picking it up three pages later, and he's done so by design.

“Thank you.” He yawns again, louder this time and burrows down further into his pillows. “Gute Nacht, mein Schatz,” he mumbles and freezes as if he only now realises what he said. He seems to wait for an answer, but when Essek fails to provide a wrong one, he just smiles up at him and says: “Schlaf wohl und g’sund, bis morgen früh’s Kaffeele kommt.”

“I don’t understand you,” Essek tells him just as quietly, “but you can translate tomorrow.” After a moment of hesitation, he adds in Undercommon: “Sweet dreams, my dear. I’ll be here when you wake up.” He quickly glances back at his book before he can do anything stupid. Such as regret his words. Or kiss him goodnight.

Still, with Caleb reading along he does his best to at least somewhat read the novel. It’s a very flowery language, occasionally dropping Zemnian words Essek doesn’t know. Judging by Caleb’s grumbling at least some of them appear to be wrong. The protagonist, Stefan, seems like quite the bore. He does have a strong motivation, he supposes, to escape from the dreary life that awaits him in his arranged marriage. Besides that, and his general cold-hearted demeanour, he can’t discern any defining characteristics.

He finally reaches the part Caleb asked him about—Stefan leaving for the big city—when another character is introduced, presumably his love interest. He appears to be about as compelling as the protagonist, until— Essek snorts quietly. “Caleb Widogast,” he chides softly, “is this a love story about wizards?”

At first, he doesn’t answer and Essek briefly considers the option of Caleb wilfully ignoring him. Then, there’s a barely audible snore. When he glances down in surprise, the human is leaning against his shoulder, soundly asleep. He noisily chews on a strand of his hair, a bit of drool dripping onto Essek’s shoulder.

For a moment he can’t help but stare, a dopey smile on his face. He quickly arrives at the conclusion that something as disgusting as that has absolutely no business being as endearing as it is. But for some reason he doesn’t mind at all.

Moving carefully and slowly, in order not to disturb Caleb’s sleep, he puts down The Creation of Silver. It is getting rather late and he probably should begin his trance, if he wants to wake before Caleb's inevitable departure.

He leans back, wiggling a bit to find a comfortable position. He thinks he's doing a good job of not rousing Caleb until the human grunts quietly. Essek freezes, fearing he may have woken him, but instead of opening his eyes, Caleb just shifts closer to him, throwing an arm and a leg across his lap to hold him tight.

Essek looks down at his... friend with a fond expression. After a moment of consideration, he reaches down to brush the strand of hair behind his ear.

Sometimes, he feels like he can barely contain all the love he feels for this man within himself. One day, perhaps, he might even find the courage to tell him so.

Zemnian Translations:

Hausschuhe - slippers. In fact a Very Important German thing. Can't wear your normal shoes indoors, so you need special house shoes. Schlaf gut, Herr Thelyss. - Sleep well, Mister Thelyss. Gute Nacht, mein Schatz. - Good night, my darling. (lit. treasure) Schlaf wohl und g'sund, bis morgen früh's Kaffeele kommt. - Sleep well and sound until tomorrow morning the little coffee arrives. (My Caleb is Suebian now and I don't take criticism. I was writing this when I suddenly remembered this sentence my parents used to say to me and I thought if my sleep deprived brain remembers things like that, it would only be appropriate if Caleb's did too.)

#critical role #critical role fanfiction #shadowgast #essek thelyss #caleb widogast #the mighty nein #my writing #sgtober2021

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adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy · 4 years

Text

Supposedly

A/N: this was a request sent in that inspired me a lot for some reason and i figured i’d do it cause i haven’t done any demon!h and demon!reader in a while so i gave it a go and I’m pretty happy with how it turned out :D enjoy!

Anonymous: This may be too cutesy for them, but do demon!harry and demon!reader ever cuddle after they fuck? Or they fall asleep separately but wake up in each other’s arms and just try to play it off awkwardly

word count: 4.5k

content: some angst but nothing major, fluff, mentions of nudity, and some cocky asshole demon!h because that’s his Brand laidese and germs!!

///

Despite the emotionless, unattached agenda demons tend to uphold, let it be known that Harry didn’t really mind what was happening at the moment.

On the surface level, from an outside perspective, this definitely doesn’t fit the bill for what is expected from his kind. Cuddling is an action reserved usually for real couples that have a sentimental bond, which he and Y/N are very much not. He’s not even quite sure what they are, really. Their relationship— if he can even call it that— was born out of three very important, adequately limiting notions: a mutual understanding, the desire for a convenient warm body, and sheer boredom.

Nothing more, nothing less.

The mutual understanding was that neither of them wanted a genuine significant other, given what they are, so it was established that feelings were to be kept out of this arrangement completely. Emotions lead to complications, complications lead to a falling out, and a falling out would be inexplicably messy considering that they’ve shared the same friend group for well over a decade now and neither are willing to let a booty call mishap ruin that. Feelings stay dormant, end of discussion.

The desire for a convenient warm body is pretty self-explanatory— Harry and Y/N had known each other for a while now so there was no annoying getting to know you phase, they both agreed that they found the other attractive, and they both live relatively close to one another so it was a pleasant set-up with minimal issues. Harry could shoot her a text at three in the morning and she’d be at his place in less than five minutes, or vice versa. There was no spending hours at a bar trying to pick someone up, no time wasted learning what the other person likes and dislikes, and certainly no fretting over birth control tactics to keep up appearances— they were both dead, which is a morbid advantage but an advantage nonetheless. It was easy access, easy fun, and easy clean-up.

The sheer boredom aspect was just that. It had started on a drunken night out with friends, where— by a series of fortunate events— Harry and Y/N had ended up together post-bender, sitting in his car in the parking lot of a club. They had been waiting for him to sober up to drive them home and she had made a passing comment about not wanting to turn in for the night quite yet. He’d blinked at her sluggishly, absentmindedly reaching over to tuck a rouge strand of hair behind her ear because he was getting secondhand irritation from it tickling her nose. He’d spoken up, voice numb and thick from the alcohol. “What do you wanna do, then?”

Y/N had glanced over at him, eyes half-lidded as they had raked down his lean tattooed chest, his unbuttoned silk sheer shirt leaving very little to the imagination. When she’d pinned her gaze back up to his, her eyes had inked black as they’d flitted to the palm of his hand for a second, a suggestive glint washing across their reflective surface as the corner of her pretty mouth had quirked. “I have a decent idea of exactly what I wanna do.”

And now here they were, with many restless, heated nights, ruined bed frames, and rumpled sheets littering their past, as well as their immediate future.

And here Harry was, slowly blinking awake after one of those said nights, cruel scratches itching across his back as they finish up healing, an empty content still bubbling at the pit of his stomach.

His lashes flutter open as he inhales a large sigh, flinching at the bright sunlight filtering its way through the lightly swaying curtains. The only sound in the room is the soft thrum of the air vent at the far corner of the ceiling, alongside Y/N’s soft, rhythmic breathing.

In his barely conscious state, Harry goes to do what he always does the morning after he’s spent a night doing Y/N’s back in: he goes to stretch. He does most of the work more times than not— courtesy of his dominant tendencies— but she always gives him a run for his soul. Anything he dishes out, she usually returns with the same amount of energy and will. Last night hadn’t been any different and the ache at the bottom of his spine and along his inner thighs proves it.

Harry instinctively goes to lift his arms above his head, reaching for the top of the headboard to use it as support. He is stopped cold when he realizes a foreign weight is keeping one of his arms pinned to the bed.

He knuckles at his eyes with his free hand, ridding them of the last residues of sleep, and then drags his palm up his face and through his mussed curls to comb away his disorientation. He cranes his sore neck to the side and downwards, eyebrows jolting up in surprise when he’s met with a wall of fluffy, tangled, mandarin-scented hair.

Harry lifts his head up slightly, neck straining to see over the back of Y/N’s wild halo to make sure that the image before him isn’t some type of exhaustion-induced mirage.

It’s odd for her to be so near him— she usually likes her space; says that being too close in proximity for too long is irritating. It’s why she usually sleeps with her back to him at the other end of the bed, and why he’s gotten accustomed to giving her the majority of the mattress space. Despite the fact that it’s his flat, she’s stubborn, hard-headed, argumentative and frankly, he’d rather just forfeit the extra leg room instead of bickering for thirty minutes just to end up losing anyways. It’s gentlemanly, in a sense. Minimal, but it’s something.

Given Y/N’s general disgust for excess contact, it’s no shock as to why Harry is utterly baffled right now. He’s about ninety-eight percent sure she’d fallen asleep all the way across the expanse of his sheets so how did they willingly end up here? How did they end up with her bare back pressed to his chest, her legs intertwined between his, and his arm wrapped almost protectively around her waist, wedged between her hips and the bed.

Harry would never outright admit it but...he’s not necessarily mad about it.

As he lays there for a few more seconds, absorbing the situation with an expression of pensive dismay pinching his face, he slowly comes to terms that he’s actually starting to enjoy this.

The warmth of her smooth skin gradually undoes the knot of confusion between his brows. The sensation of her back flushing against his chest as it rises and falls with her breathing erases the unease dipping the corners of his stinging mouth. The way she’s started to unconsciously rub her calves gently up and down his own makes the last traces of unsettlement melt off his face, replaced by an appearance of subtle affection, lips parting in blank wonder.

Harry relaxes back into the plushness of the mattress, eyes remaining glued to a blissfully ignorant Y/N. His thoughts are scurrying around the inside of his skull, attempting to get accustomed with this new experience, having a difficult time arranging into place. He’s aware that he seems to be taking easily to what’s unfolding, but there’s an unsteady bubble inflating in his chest. He knows that if he lets himself dwell in this too much, it’ll end up biting him in the ass later, most likely as a wave of undealt emotions and crippling loneliness; that’s baggage he’s spent too many years compartmentalizing for it to all just come bursting out.

All those decades of locking away his issues are in danger of resurfacing, and all for some harmless hugging? Doesn’t seem like a fair negotiation, and he knows plenty about negotiations.

However, he can’t seem to make himself pull away.

Especially not when Y/N suddenly shifts in her sleep, turning onto her other side so that she's now facing him, snuggling deeper into his body and tucking her head into the junction between his neck and collarbones. Her annoyingly soft, hot lips smear against his throat, settling into the dip at the center where a pulse would normally be present. The feeling of her exhales washing across his cold skin sends a wringing down his spine, a hushed “fuck…” escaping his dry mouth as the warmth behind the gesture spreads upwards, spilling redness into his cheeks and along the shells of his ears. Her hands come up as loose fists, pressing between his pectorals lightly, her own naked chest flushing against her forearms.

Surprisingly enough, her supple chest isn’t at the forefront of his mind at this instant. Instead, he’s focused on the intimacy they’re sharing in this moment, unbeknownst to her and stressfully beknownst to him.

Harry’s free hand acts of its own accord, coasting upwards towards her face and moving her chin over a bit until his palm can comfortably nurse her jaw. He rubs the pad of his thumb across her bottom lip slowly, every ridge and bump sending miniature shots of electricity surging through his veins, his eyes falling shut at this strange form of pleasure he hasn’t felt in ages.

Y/N just looks so beautiful like that, in such a vulnerable state that he knows for sure no one else has ever gotten to witness— at least not in a very long time.

No one else has gotten to see the way her lashes sit atop her cheekbones so delicately, her face soothed by sleep, not a wrinkle or grimace in sight. She looks as if she were made of porcelain, her features nothing short of perfect. No one has gotten to witness the way she mumbles a handful of incoherent, groggy words, her mind lost in a meaningless dream, or the way her nose twitches in the cutest manner as a draft from the air conditioning runs across it, causing her to sniffle. No one has seen the way she gives into his touch, her face cradling deeper into his hand, chasing the uncommon gentleness behind his demeanor and it hadn’t occurred to Harry that maybe— just maybe— she’s craving this type of innocent bliss, too, though he’s certain she would never confess to it if she were awake.

Harry runs his hand down the slope of her bruised neck and across the curve of her shoulder, tracing the teeth marks he had left the night before. The tip of his fingers follow down the incline of her torso, wriggling around her side, his wrist resting upon the faint dip of her waist. He cups her lower back with his large hand, borrowing a moment to appreciate the way it fits flawlessly. He then leans forward some to give his reach more length, his digits carefully trailing up the middle of her spine, the action timid and tranquil.

He looks down at her from over the tops of his colored cheeks, chewing on his bottom lip nervously as he continues to lull his fingers up and down her back. Y/N releases a shy whimper of gratitude, her whole body bathing in a light shiver. She does like it.

Harry swallows thickly, moving away a few locks of hair off her shoulder with the tip of his nose, glassy jade irises studying her facial expressions to make sure she’s still asleep. He puckers his tingling lips, pressing a bundle of chaste kisses to the fading bite marks on her staticy skin. If his heart still beat, he feels like it would be glowing right now.

He tilts his chin up, settling it on top of her head and sighing in satisfaction as he feels her steady breathing wash across his Adam’s Apple, her flyaway hairs tickling his nostrils.

He decides to stay like that for a while, just basking in her company within this tender setting that he knows he probably won’t receive again anytime soon. Harry lays there, limbs woven between Y/N’s as his black-polished nails scratch gently at her back, swimming in his numb thoughts.

After what feels like hours— but is realistically just ten minutes— he goes to gingerly shift the arm stuck beneath her body, trying to regain some circulation. Y/N stirs, resulting in him freezing in place to prevent a mishap, his mouth finding her warm forehead and placing a lingering kiss between her brows. It eases her.

Harry waits five minutes before trying again.

He manages to escape this time around, lifting his arm above his head and twisting out the cramp in his wrist, then folding it behind his head. He allows his eyes to shut once again, intent on spending a bit longer milling in this bubble of domestic peace.

His plan is shattered to pieces by an alarmed, angry sentence.

“What the fuck?”

His eyelids fly open, ice materializing across his entire nervous system.

Shit.

Y/N launches upwards, sitting up rigidly with her face contorted in startled repulsion, clutching his blood red sheets to her chest as her hair stands up in tousled tuffs. “What in Lucifer’s red, barren hell are you doing?”

Harry now has two distinctive routes to pick from: confess to partaking in the unorthodox cuddling, or fake it and say he was asleep as well and that it had all been an unintentional mistake.

It’s hardly a choice.

He flings his arms away from the other demon’s body as if sickened, shooting up into a seated position and slouching back onto his palms, a look of agitated horror plastered across his sleepy, handsome features. “What do you mean what am I doing? What the fuck were you doing?”

Y/N blinks at him as if he’d just stabbed her between the eyes with a demon blade, irises momentarily flitting black with nerves, the area under her waterline webbing with dark veins. “What do you mean what was I doing? You were the one with your arms around me!”

Harry narrows his sight at her pointedly, thick brows furrowing with faux resentment. “You were the one with your head snuggled into my neck and your hands on my chest!”

“You were the one kissing my forehead!”

“You were the one rubbing up on my legs!”

“Because you were close to me!”

“Because you rolled over here!”

“No I didn’t!”

“Oh, so what?” Harry snaps sarcastically, drawing forward and crossing his arms over his chest adamantly. “Did an angel sneak in and place you there? Because as I recall, you always sleep on the left side of the bed, so what were you doing on the right?”

Harry’s accurate counter renders Y/N speechless, her mouth parting quizzically as if waiting for a response to magically appear. Her eyebrows cinch down begrudgingly, the gears in her head spinning on overdrive, trying to piece together an appropriate rebuttal. Her grasp tightens on the blanket covering her bare body. “Well, I...I don’t know—I don’t think I—”

Harry cocks his head to the side expectantly, loose curls falling across his forehead as he shrugs his brows with a condescending air. He mimics her with a high-pitched voice. “Well, I— I don’t know— I—I don’t think I—I—I—”

Y/N’s face goes sour as heat floods her cheeks, fire threatening to spark across the tips of her sizzling ears. She yanks the sheets off of him, holding them with one hand as she uses the other to begin crawling across the bed towards the edge, a haphazard defense thrown over her shoulder. “Shut up! It wasn’t on purpose!”

Harry scoffs in dark amusement, not even bothering to cover himself up. He bites into his cheek to keep from exploding into a round of triumphant laughter; he can’t believe he managed to turn the tides so quickly. “Oh, so you admit it was you, then?”

Y/N dismounts the atrociously tall bed, stumbling over the long linens as she desperately searches for her clothes. “No! I’m just saying that whatever happened, it didn’t happen intentionally!”

“Obviously.” The brunette demon snorts, shaking his head for subtle emphasis, crossing his ankles offhandedly and returning both arms to the place where one had been prior— tucked behind his head casually. “What do you think we are, mortal?”

“Of course not.” Y/N agrees quickly— a little too quickly, which hints to Harry that she might be trying to cover something up. Perhaps she wasn’t as disgusted by this as she had led on…

He watches as his friend— he uses the term lightly— shuffles around his room, peering at the floor in an determined quest to find her jeans, underwear, and black lace blouse. Or maybe she’s just hellbent on avoiding eye contact with him.

“Y/N…” His tone has lost its arrogantly mocking edge, softened by what she can only decode as...guilt?

She ignores it and doesn’t answer, nearly passing out in relief when she spots her panties and bra hanging off the doorknob to his closet. She snatches them swiftly, panning her gaze around the rest of the room for her leftover clothes, spotting them in a pile sticking out from underneath the opposite corner of the bed. They’d probably gotten kicked there in the heat of the moment.

Harry repeats himself a little louder, adding onto his comment to try and stifle some of the embarrassment radiating from her. “Y/N, you don’t have to leave. You usually stay for breakfast.”

Y/N scoops up her outfit, settling it into the crook of her right elbow and squaring her shoulders as if ready to brace a hellhound. Their gazes lock and he feels his stomach flop when he sees the vulnerability she’s obviously trying to hide. She’s good at it, he’ll give her that, but if he stares intently enough, he can just make out the traces of conflicted longing leaking into the disinterested facade around her pupils.

“It’s fine, Harry.” She sighs heavily, her tone drastically different from the unkempt girl that had been floundering about just seconds ago. She’s now calm, cool, collected, and scaringly so. “I have somewhere to be later. Meeting someone to close a deal.”

She shrugs one shoulder indifferently, grabbing a handful of the sheets arranged around her figure and pulling away, dropping the bedspread at his feet and leaving herself completely nude.

And there she is, the Y/N he so well knows. The same one that uses sex appeal as a shield.

She’s managed to spackle the cracks that had appeared in her typical barrier of heartlessness, her confidence and ease leveling off once again. She places her clothes on top of the crumpled sheets, picking out her cheeky bright red panties from the heap and working them up her tempting legs. Harry can’t help but notice the hickies covering her inner thighs, as well as the finger prints staining her hips.

Y/N catches him ogling, smirking to herself now that she has her composure back in order. She hooks her index finger around one of the straps in her bra, lifting it up and bouncing the lace lingerie in front of him teasingly. She raises her eyebrows at her lover provokingly, a sultry air pouting her lips. “Think you can help a girl out?”

Harry licks at his slightly chapped lips thoughtfully, eyes flickering between the article hanging off her hand to the sly grin decorating the edges of her pretty mouth. When he speaks, it’s low and thicker than usual, accent heavy. “Of course, pet.”

His legs thunk emptily off the bed and onto the floor, a small grunt catching the back of his throat as he pushes himself up onto his feet. He is most definitely sore.

His footsteps are soft against the carpeted ground, faltering as he rounds the corner of the mattress.

Y/N eyes his every move, suckling her bottom lip at the way his muscles flex and contract under his sun-kissed skin. She doesn’t let herself wander below his waist though; she’s never one to pass up flaunting her power of will.

Harry stops about a foot away, taking the bra from she is offering and holding it out for her to slip into. She does so at a mind-numbing pace, her toes curling as she feels his warm fingertips running the material up her arms and onto their designated spot on her shoulders. He tugs at the hooks gently, pinning them into place and tucking the tag in, exactly how he’s seen her do countless of times before.

He then runs the palms of his hands up her arms, sighing softly at the silky sensation of her skin and giving her shoulders a dismissive squeeze. “All done.”

Y/N turns on her heels to face him, looking up innocently through her lashes, lips quirking into an easy smile. “Thank you. Such a gentleman.”

Her playfully seductive personality is unbearably contagious, seen in how Harry returns her action with a coy scoff and a simper of his own. “For you, always.”

“Well…” Y/N turns her lower half to the side, showing him her ass for significance, which is covered in the unmistakable print of his hand and rings. “I wouldn’t say always.”

Harry’s pursed lips break into an even wider shit-eating grin, his cheeky laughter echoing across the walls of the apartment, his arms absentmindedly folding across his broad chest. “Yeah, well, you can’t say it’s one-sided, can you?”

He points towards his neck, stretching his chin upwards so that she gets a good view of all the fading love bites she’d left there the night before.

Y/N’s giggles match his. “Touché.”

Harry rummages through his drawers as she finishes getting dressed, shimmying into her tight jeans and throwing her shirt on, finger-combing her hair into a decent state. He comes up with a pair of maroon briefs, slipping them on as he walks back towards her, letting the elastic band snap into place against his lower abdomen.

The two demons with benefits stand before each other, Y/N with her braided black sandals swung over her shoulders and Harry with his hands fixed on his hips nonchalantly.

“You really can’t stay for breakfast?” Harry inquiries one last time, lifting his eyebrows curiously. “I’m making those cinnamon bun waffles you like so much.”

Y/N sighs grandly, clutching her chest dramatically as if it physically hurts her to decline his offer. “I’d love to, but work is work. Don’t really have a say.”

Her friend nods in understanding, well aware of the truth behind her words. “It is what it is, then.”

“However...” Her sudden continuation makes his head perk. She reaches up, carding her fingers into his messy curls and combing them back from his face, tucking a handful of rebellious ringlets behind his small ears and giving him one final self-assured smile. “Do y’think you could maybe save me two and I can come pick them up tonight?”

Harry cranes his head to the side, placing a slow peck to the palm of her hand and then biting into her skin jokingly, a certain lewdness painted all over the deed. “I think that can be arranged.”

“Great.” Y/N quips happily, wrapping his curls around her knuckles roughly and hauling him in for a sloppy, dirty kiss that leaves his teeth numb and his face buzzing.

Once she breaks their mouths, lightly panting with her skin a darker shade than before, he has to blink three times in order to reign himself back in. His ability to form coherent sentences right now is about as useful as alphabet soup; he just gives her a jerky nod instead.

Y/N wipes at his swollen lips with the pad of her thumb, giving his cheek a playful pat. “I’ll see you then, H.”

Harry can’t tear his eyes away as she leaves, his bedroom door clicking shut behind her, the soft, distant thunk of his front door accompanying the sound a bit later.

Fuck, that was something is the first comprehensible thought that registers in his mind.

It was absolutely something and who knows how differently it would have gone if he had admitted giving into the weakness they had both sworn off of.

That notion haunts him for a while— the idea that he could have driven her away for good if he had confessed that his emotions had bleed through their arrangement. Sure, it had only been this once, but Harry has a horrible gut-wrenching feeling that he’s unlocked a box deep in the back of his skull that won’t easily be chained down again.

He thinks this over again and again as he prepares his morning meal, the looming uncertainties of it all causing him to check out of reality here and there, resulting in a few burn marks across his hands and two charred waffles in the bin.

As Harry finally sits down to enjoy the food that had nearly not made it to his plate, he finds himself mentally running through the awkward encounter he and Y/N had faced this morning. He can’t stop himself from dwelling on the expression he had seen crack through her eyes earlier— one that showed she seemed to be feeling the same kind of emotional turmoil he was. It opens too many unanswered questions for their future and he hates himself for being so worried when nothing had truly happened. For all he knows, it could have just been a trick of the sunlight that had been streaming into the room. He’s getting himself out of sorts for nothing.

However, as he goes in on a forkful of his cinnamon-glazed pastry, one pesky detail suddenly launches him into a coughing fit.

It was so minuscule he had missed it the first fifty times he had run through the events, but it had decided to prick him in the brain now, the weak dam of reassurance he had built crumbling to ashes.

After Y/N had woken up, saw what was happening, and their fight had ensued, she had made a comment about how Harry had kissed her forehead.

On the surface, it had seemed unimportant because yes, that is exactly what he had done. The problem arose when he remembered that she had been dead asleep when he had done that.

Supposedly.

He had gone to remove his arm from below her body, she had fussed a bit, he had pressed his lips to her forehead to ease her, and she had remained asleep for a while longer until he decided to finish removing his arm. That final motion was what had awoken her.

Supposedly.

If she had been unconscious the whole time they were cuddling, then how did she know he’d kissed her?

#demon!reader #demon!y/n #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles dirty one shot #harry styles dirty imagine #harry styles dirty fanfiction #harry styles dirty fic #harry styles #harry styles au #writing au #demon au #one direction one shot #one direction fanfiction #1d one shot #1d fanfiction

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waywardwrestlewritingwaif · 3 years

Text

Raise the Stakes, Part 13

I just had to sneak in one more part before the big showdown tonight. Aside from this, the card for Resurgence looks awesome!

Pairing: David Finlay x OFC x Jay White

Word count: 2,897

Content advisory: sexual content (not as graphic as previous parts, but still more than just mentions), language

Previous sections (and the prequel) available on the Master List

This is completely normal, you tell yourself. He has a big match tomorrow. He needs a clear head and sleep and, as he’s fond of telling you, he doesn’t get either of those things when the two of you are together. It makes sense that he’d want to spend tonight at his own place, by himself.

So why do you feel like something horrible is happening?

You close your eyes but the second you do, you get a vision ofJay lifting David limp body off the mat. You can still hear that awful crack of David’s unprotected skull hitting the chair and immediately you feel sick to your stomach, just as you had when you’d watched the moment unfold. You were as powerless then as you are now to change it. All you could do was follow the assistants who’d come to help him to the medic’s room.

By the time they got him back there, there was already a red welt visible on his forehead. He was barely conscious, growling at anyone who tried to help him until you approached. He hadn’t said anything, just leaned into your body and let his head fall on your shoulder. He wasn’t aware enough to notice that you were crying, even when a few of your tears dripped onto his skin.

You’d held him tight until the doctor arrived, her expression doing nothing to ease your mind. Nevertheless, after a thorough check, she pronounced that he wasn’t concussed and wasn’t injured beyond the obvious bumps and bruises. Not physically at least.

Of course, you’d insisted that he come back to your place where you could keep an eye on him and take care of the wounds he had sustained. Well, you hadn’t really had to insist. He was happy to go along, laughing at the way you tried to do everything for him. It became a rather hilarious tug of war, you trying everything to keep him still and him doing everything to annoy you, getting himself a bottle of water from the fridge, trying to make something for dinner until you’d literally smacked his ass repeatedly with a spatula, which had you both laughing so hard you almost fell down.

Getting him into bed was a battle, too, and once you got him undressed and relaxed, he’d immediately started to get frisky. He kept insisting that he was fine and had ended up spending time both last night and the first part of the day today showing you just how fine he was.

“I can’t wait until this weekend is over,” he hissed into your skin during one intimate moment.

You’d agreed because, despite the fact that there are other shows and other matches coming up, there does seem to be a sense of finality around their showdown this weekend. Sure after this, Jay’s going to calm down or get distracted and he won’t be so determined to screw with your lives.

“Never again,” Jay had fairly shrieked, sitting on David’s chest, clinging on to his belt. “You will never beat me again.”

Sure, his words made perfect sense within the context of their fight for the belt and Jay’s determination to avenge his loss months ago. But you knew that wasn’t it. The animalistic way they’d stared each other down before the fight, the rush to get started. Jay always loved to tease confronting an enemy but backed out at the last seconds toying with them until he was convinced he’d rattled their nerves. Not last night. He and David had gone right after each other, brawling like they were in a bar.

Thinking of that reminds you of a night you haven’t thought about in years, back in their early days, your early days, in the dojo. It’s not a night you should remember at all, given the condition you were in but you remember it, or at least the end of it, perfectly.

The three of you had been out drinking. Drinking a lot. You’d stumbled back to your barracks leaning on one another to form some sort of solid mass that could stay upright. You’d still ended up tumbling a few times, which was hardly surprising. You must have all had some kind of homing instinct because none of you could tell where the hell you were.

You knew that by the time you made it back, the door would be locked but your super power at that time was that you were small enough and flexible enough to get through the window in the kitchen that was stuck open. You’d needed a boost from the guys, which had taken a couple of efforts, but you were eventually able to scramble through and unlock the front door, albeit after crashing into so many things and making so much noise that there was no way anyone slept through it.

Your room was in another area of the building but you’d just headed to their room. You’d passed out on the floor on several occasions, always on the floor even though you’d already started sleeping with Jay by that point. The two of you were half-assed pretending that nothing was happening, even though you’d very quietly fool around before falling asleep.

You’d been keeping things a secret to avoid gossip but also, at least on your part, because you hadn’t wanted to hurt David. It was clear already that he was sweet on you and you’d figured that as long as it wasn’t right there out in the open, you could pretend that there was no reason for him to feel hurt. Later on, you’d confide in him about how miserable Jay was making you, but at that point, things were still fun, still inconsequential.

In retrospect, you realize this period must have been agony for him. Jay was a braggart and had advertised his conquest to his roommate pretty much right away, but from there, you’d all pretended that nothing was happening. It’s only been in the last few weeks that you found out just how much and how early he’d liked you. Going through that must have sucked.

But on that particular night, there was no problem because you were all feeling no pain, either physical or emotional. You’d ended up crawling up the stairs on all fours, basically pulling both of them along with you. Jay had informed you loudly that he needed to take a piss and you and David had somehow made it back to their room.

It was dark, which meant the two of you were stumbling all over the place, but eventually David had flopped down onto his bed and turned on the lamp that stood on the shelf just above it. Unfortunately, as he did so, he’d knocked the lamp backward and left it hanging precariously, wedged between the headboard and the wall.

“David, get the light!” You’d been laughing so hard you could barely get the words out. There were tears streaming down your cheeks.

“It’s ok,” he mumbled, laughing as much as his semi-conscious body would let him.

“It’s not ok, David, you have to get the lamp because it’s going to…” You could not for the life of you remember the word “fall” in that moment.

After a few more seconds, you’d gone over to retrieve the lamp yourself, not that you were particularly graceful at it, balancing yourself as best you could on the edge of David’s bed and placing one hand on the wall to try to keep steady, all while trying not to collapse onto David’s chuckling form.

Out of nowhere, he’d snaked an arm around your leg and pulled you down onto his face, which made you both laugh even harder. You’d been giggling as he clumsily pushed your panties out of the way and started licking you with sloppy enthusiasm.

“Oh my god, David, what the hell,” you laughed. “That tickles!”

Maybe you would have told him to stop, or he just would have passed out in the middle of what he was doing because he was just that loaded, but before either of those things could happen, you’d been interrupted.

“What the fuck?” Jay was standing unsteadily in the doorway.

You’d tried to shush him as you fell back a little, sitting on David’s chest. He was laughing too but Jay decidedly was not.

“What are you, eating her pussy?”

You’d just cracked up laughing. David hadn’t opened his eyes, just grinned in a drunk, goofy way and responded, “I don’t know. Sort of?”

“Turn the light off,” Jay snapped.

“I’m trying to!” Another wave of laughter rolled over you as you’d pondered the ridiculousness of not being able to turn off a light.

“Turn the fucking light off!” Jay yelled.

He gave it a hard kick and shattered the bulb, solving the problem. He’d helped you stand up and although you couldn’t see him well, you’d felt like David was already unconscious as Jay led you over to his bed.

He’d pushed you down and started pulling your clothes away, which was unusual. Part of trying to keep things secret was learning how to fool around without getting naked and being as quiet as possible. But that night, Jay had been insistent about getting you naked. He’d been rough and he’d been loud. And he’d bit and pinched and scratched at you until you were loud as well. If you hadn’t managed to wake everyone in the building up with your arrival, that must have done the trick.

The only person it didn’t disturb was David, whose light snoring you could hear while you were going at it.

Jay had never been one to stare into your eyes and focus intently on you during sex, not back then at least. He’d look at you, then away, like he was thinking of what he could do next, or what he could get you to do. But as you remember the night now, you realize that his eyes flickered repeatedly towards the other bed, vibrant with anger. You knew that Jay had come to see you as one of his belongings during the time that you’d been working for him, but it’s only now that you realize how early that had started. Even then, when he’d been very clear that the two of you were not exclusive, he’d been livid at the idea that someone else would touch what was his.

The son of a bitch would have known that David was hung up on you, too. He’d done his best to make sure that he’d hear him fucking you right there in the room, like David didn’t even exist. David who at that point was still his best friend.

You don’t know if David woke up while all this was happening. You hope he didn’t. Although he’d apologized for what he called “his behavior” the next day, you’ve never been sure how much he remembers. Certainly by this point, it might have faded from his memory entirely. You hope that’s the case. You hope he doesn’t remember it anything like the way you do.

In his position, you don’t know if you’d ever be able to trust you, to believe that your emotions weren’t contaminated or at least inconsistent. You can’t believe that doubts don’t start to creep in the second you’re out of his sight, which is why, although it’s understandable that he’d want to spend the night by himself tonight, you feel worried. The second he starts thinking about how many problems you’re causing and how much he’s had to deal with for years because of you, he’s likely to move to Siberia just to ensure he never sees you again.

And as if you weren’t capable of driving yourself crazy with anxiety on your own, Jay’s trying his best to make it worse. Since you are the talent liaison for New Japan in America and Jay is a New Japan performer currently working in America, you’re no longer allowed to stop him from accessing you and tonight, he’s apparently decided to take full advantage of that.

Your phone lights up to indicate another text message. You check every time because it could be David, or someone actually trying to contact you for work, as opposed to what Jay’s doing, which is trying to drive you right out of your mind. But it seems like no one has anything to say to you except Jay.

Are you alone or do you have to take care of your boy tonight?

I hope you’re not wearing him out. I want him to remember how easy it is for me to beat him even at his best. And I know how you can be.

Try not to think about me when you two are going at it.

If he’s not there, come over. I’ll keep my hands to myself if you do.

You know I can get women whenever I want but I never stop thinking about the filthy things I’d like to do to you.

Play the good girl all you want, I know you’re going to be thinking about that last text for hours. I’ll bet you’ll even touch yourself.

Send pictures when you do. No reason for us not to enjoy ourselves.

Wonder how he’d react if I told him you were coming over. Guess I could find out. Not like he’d know I was lying. Or maybe I’m not lying?

That last one does it. You can’t just ignore that because you don’t know if he’s going to make good on the threat. So you type back the only two words you can think of: STOP IT.

Ha. I knew you weren’t sleeping. And I’ll bet your sweet prince is back at his place because he wants to be focused for tomorrow. Poor boy denying himself his last meal.

You flinch and respond again in all capital letters: I MEAN IT. KNOCK IT OFF.

You’re tense. You should definitely come over. I’ll give you a back rub.

You should have just let him keep texting and gone to sleep, not that you can sleep because you’re so tense about things with David and the fact that Jay’s threatening to ruin them. Now you’re caught in one of his mazes that you can never seem to find your way out of.

Fine, you’re not coming over. Phone sex?

NO.

Come on, it’s probably the one thing we haven’t done before. Call me.

NO. GOD WILL YOU JUST STOP? I’M TRYING TO SLEEP.

I know how to help you calm down. Call.

Ok, seriously, let me help you relax. We don’t have to talk about you putting my dick in your mouth.

You roll your eyes and answer: Nothing with you relaxes me.

Seriously, I have a technique.

NO.

You’re no fun. Think I’ll bug Super Dave for a bit.

You don’t even text him back. You call because at least if he’s on the phone, he can’t be texting David to tell him god knows what.

“Well this is a nice surprise,” he purrs.

“You can’t do this. I need to sleep. Hell, you need to sleep. Just let it go, Jay.”

“I don’t really need to be well rested to beat Finlay. He got lucky the one time. Even you don’t believe he’s good enough to beat me twice.”

“Maybe I don’t care if he wins or not. Maybe I’ll be happy because I get to be with him one way or the other.”

“I’ll bet he cares.”

“I’m hanging up.”

“No, come on, I promised I’d help you sleep and now you’re even more worked up.”

You try to think of a smart comeback but you can’t. He waits a minute before continuing.

“Are you lying down?”

“Not that it’s any of your business but yes.”

“It’s purely professional interest, I promise.” You can hear a dark laugh buried in his voice. “Lay flat on your back and close your eyes.”

You’re not sure why but you do as he says. You do need to sleep and maybe the bastard actually can help with that.

“I want you to breathe all the way in, really slowly, through your nose.”

You give it a shot and he immediately interrupts.

“Don’t do it like you’re angry at me. Soft and slow, until your lungs feel full.”

You comply, fighting to keep from getting angry at him.

“Ok, now exhale very slowly through your mouth. All the way.” When he’s satisfied you’ve done that properly, he continues, “Keep doing that, as slow as you can manage. In through the nose, out through the mouth.”

You can’t deny that you can feel your body start to relax after only a few repetitions.

“Now take your hand and place it over your face, right along the hairline. Just barely let your fingers touch your skin. Then run your hand down your face, all the way to your neck. Keep your touch as light as you can.”

The sensation makes you shiver but as much as you feel like your nerves are being activated, you also feel like you’re pulling the tension out of your body. He tells you to repeat this gesture a few times, always keeping your breathing slow and even.

“Good night princess,” he whispers. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The line goes dead before you can say anything.

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clairecrive · 4 years

Text

“All in our heads”- Tommy Conlon x reader

Summary: sometimes, despite being mostly all in your head, insecurities can find their way to plague your life. And we all have them, we just have to learn how to deal with them.

Word count:7.200 +

Tw: super long, angst but fluff at end

Tag list: @mollybegger-blog, @evelynshelby, @br0ck-eddie, @of-love-and-of-the-sea, @shadow-of-wonder, @fandom--0verdose, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @sopxhiea, @fuseburner, @ashesbelle (let me know if you wanna be added or removed)

The had a wonderful night. The long overdue dinner she had organized with her friends had been a success. Everyone had fun and by the looks they gave her, y/n knew that they all loved Tommy. They only had been going out for a couple of months but she knew that if he couldn’t coexist with her friends, he wasn’t the right one. However, she couldn’t help but let the fuzzy feeling the comfort her friends gave her be shimmered down by a nasty thought. At first, y/n thought it was all in her head. It wasn’t that Frances was all over Tommy, it was just the way she was. And no, Tommy wasn’t into her, he was just being polite by engaging in a conversation with her. A conversation that lasted almost all night but whatever. It was all in her head.

So when Frances had stumbled out of the bar and almost fell on her face and Tommy was quick to grab her, y/n didn’t think anything of it. And neither did she oppose when Frances asked him for a lift home. She did live closer to Tommy and Olivia, who was driving, would have had to make an almost half an hour drive to bring her home.

However, now that it had come the time to say goodbye, y/n wasn’t feeling so sure in letting them go home alone. But it had already been all said and done and she didn’t want to appear clingy. She trusted Tommy. What was nagging her, was that she also knew Frances. And yes, they were friends but she was known to be the flirty one of the group. That didn’t necessarily mean that she’d actively flirted with their boyfriends but y/n and the other girls could never tell if she was just being herself or was really interested in the guy. And what if Tommy ended up liking her? Y/n didn’t think that Frances was Tommy’s type but she also didn’t believe attraction to be an exact science.

Eyes on their retreating silhouettes, y/n quickly went over their interactions at dinner and concluded that maybe she wasn’t exaggerating after all.

“She wants him.” Keeping her eyes on them, she talked to her friends that were behind her. She was starting to regret her decision to let Tommy bring Frances home. However, she knew that without trust, this relationship was doomed to fail even before it started.

“He doesn’t though. That’s what you need to focus on.” Olivia’s hand patted her shoulder to reassure her and letting out a sigh, y/n turned around knowing she was right.

She had to trust that nothing would happen between him and Frances, she told herself. Thinking back to the night, she got over every bit of his interaction with her to see if there was anything she’d missed that could prove to her that she was just overreacting. Frances was the kind of girl that loved to be at the centre of the attention, especially male’s ones. Tommy was attractive, it was obvious to everyone except for him maybe, but y/n knew that Frances liked him. She had been onto him all night long. Sitting in front of him, she had managed to keep him in an exclusive conversation with her since the moment they sat down. Sat on his right, y/n had been an involuntary witness. Now, of course, she hadn’t been focused on them the whole night. She had gone out to enjoy some time with her friends after all. But she could see the malicious twinkle in Frances'eyes every time she looked at him. The subtle smirk on her face when she’d say something that had drawn even the littlest of chuckles from Tommy. He wasn’t the talkative type so she did most of the talking but, thinking back to it now, y/n knew that he had kept his eyes on her for the entirety of their conversation. He was drawn to her, y/n realized in horror.

Tommy wasn’t one to show his feelings or emotion vocally but it was the little things that gave him away. And listening to you and paying attention, were some of the ways he’d show that he was interested.

How could she have not noticed that he was into her?

Climbing into her friend’s car, y/n also came to another disheartening realisation: Tommy hadn’t spared her a glance. She had dolled up for him, trying to look cute for him she had put together a daring outfit that was out of her comfort zone. She had opted for a see-through white hoodie and a lacy black bra paired with tight black jeans and heeled black boots. It wasn’t her go-to kind of look but she’d chosen it to (maybe) get a reaction out of him. Usually, Tommy was always ready to shower her with compliments whenever they’d go out. She didn’t know, however, that it’d be pointless since all Tommy had had eyes for that night was Frances.

Becka shook y/n a little to get her attention. They were in front of her house and she hadn’t even noticed. Thanking Olivia for the ride home, y/n numbly made her way out of the car and eventually into her house. She got ready for bed since it was almost two in the morning, but deep down y/n knew that she wouldn’t be able to sleep if she didn’t talk with Tommy first.

She tried to, mind you. She got into the bed, tucked herself into the sheets, tried to focus on the fresh smell of the sheets, she even tried to count the sheep, but nothing worked. She needed to know, otherwise, she’d spend the night tossing and turning. Tommy had sent her a text to let her know that he had arrived home safe and sound like he usually did. So y/n knew he was home, she just hoped that he wouldn’t mind too much being woken for this. If he even heard the phone ringing, that is.

“What’s going on?” Luckily for her, he did. His voice was filled with tiredness and as she feared, she had woken him up.

“Everything alright with Frances?”

“Yeah,” his voice trailed and the sound of shuffling filled her ears, “ you called me at two in the morning to ask me that?”

“Well, not exactly,” clearing her voice, she thought it best to stop batting around the bush. Speaking with Tommy had never been a problem for her. Not even in the beginning when she barely knew him. However, she was now finding it incredibly hard to ask him a simple question.

“Y/n?”

“Do you like her, Tommy?” The words tipped out of y/n’s mouth before she could second-guess herself.

“What?”

“You know what? This is stupid, forget it. I’m sorry I woke you up, goodnight Tommy,” y/n backfired quickly ending the call. Letting the phone fall at her side, she was now beginning to regret calling him. Did she get the answer she needed? No. Did it change anything? No, apart from the fact that she was now feeling stupid too. Calling him in the middle of the night just because she was feeling self-conscious and feared that he liked another girl? C’mon y/n, you know better.

Great, as if the situation wasn’t already ideal, she had started talking to herself too. From good to better. All this mental activity and self-fustigation were proving to be good at something for she was starting to doze off. However, as her eyes fluttered close and her breath was about to settle, a noise startled her. A noise she knew too well: little stones were being thrown at her window. Someone was trying to get her attention and despite her almost asleep state, she knew who it was.

Only stopping to get her coat, y/n hurriedly got out of her house hoping that no one had heard the noise. She didn’t care that she was in her pyjamas with most certainly crazy hair, she could only think of getting out of this terrible cold and inside Tommy’s car.

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to check on you. You call me in the middle of the night when I know for a fact that you sleep like a log. I got worried.”

“You didn’t have to, Tommy. This could have waited ‘till morning.”

“Could it?”

“I acted on impulse, alright? I was thinking about it and I needed to know, that’s why I called you.”

“Why were you thinking about it?” But y/n was tired of getting around it, she was saying the truth when she told him that she needed to know. So she asked him a question of her own.

“Do you?”

“Do I what, y/n?” It seemed that Tommy still wanted to play games, however, she was having none of it. With a pointed look, she silently asked him to stop playing around.

Shuffling in his seat, Tommy nervously scratched his beardless face before scrolling his shoulders and muttering a quiet no. But it didn’t convince y/n in the least.

“Do you find her attractive?” She insisted, noticing how uncomfortable Tommy was. She fought against the little voice inside her head that was taking all these little gestures of his as proof. Until he confessed with words, there was still a chance that she could have misread the whole situation. She felt pathetic for hanging so tightly onto a slight possibility, but whatever. The game was still on.

“Why are you asking me this, y/n?”

“Why are you avoiding the question, Tommy?”

For a while, they just stared at each other. Y/n with a slight accusation in her eyes while Tommy looked like a scared kitten. He didn’t know what to do. He felt put on the spot and didn’t know how to react. This was why he didn’t do relationships. They were messy and complicated. But then again, she was asking a simple question and trusting him enough that he would tell the truth. Tommy, on the other hand, knew that he couldn’t do that. If he did, it would only cause troubles and his life was already complicated as it was.

“I saw how you were looking at her tonight,” she started, hoping that by taking the lead he’d be prompted in answering her question earnestly as well, “ and then how you let her touch you and how your hands were all over her too.” Looking away and staring at her feet that were suddenly so interesting, she tried to find the right words to express her thoughts. “I always thought you were a private guy. Reserved and not very affectionate. People show their affection in different ways and so I thought that yours were not the touchy type. You never complain when I shower you with affection so I accepted this as the way our relationship was.” “But, you have never touched me the way you touched her tonight.”

“She was drunk and could barely stand on her feet,” he defended himself.

“Are you saying that that’s the only way you’ll ever touch me or is it just an excuse to avoid telling me that the reason why you’re not touching me is that you’re not attracted to me?” Her tone got sharper as she kept speaking, her head whipped towards him. But again, she got no response. Tommy did only stare back at her.

“Look, Tommy,” sighing she continued, “ you can’t really control who you’re attracted to, right?” She stared back at him, “I just want to know.”

“You’re right, I’m not very affectionate. Not in the normal sense, anyway.” “And yes, I think she’s attractive.” “My hands were not all over her tho’, I was just helping her out.”

Now that she had got what she wanted, she should feel accomplished. However, she was left feeling only more confused. He admitted that he did find her attractive but that wasn’t why he had touched her. Maybe the last point was true, maybe she had exaggerated a little. But there was still the fact that he liked her.

“Is this why you were so into her during dinner?”

“She talked and I listened, that’s it.”

She scoffed. “You’ve only had eyes for her Tommy, can you at least admit that?”

“That ain’t true, she was in front of me, where was I supposed to look?”

“I was at your side Tommy, not that far away.” she muttered before asking, “Did you like my outfit?”

“It was nice.” But she knew he was lying.

“What was I wearing?” Y/n insisted, if there was something she hated, it was liars.

“Y/n c’mon, I never remember what you wear.” He groaned trying to come out of this clean.

“Maybe, but you always tell me I’m beautiful.” she smiled shyly tearing her eyes away from him, feeling a little stupid after saying that.

“You always look beautiful, y/n. You don’t need me to say it.” Chuckling with mirth, she shook her head, reading through the lines of what he was saying.

“You can’t remember because you didn’t look at me, Tommy. Not even once during the whole evening.” she pointed out. Tommy, again, didn’t deny nor confirm but at this point, he didn’t need to.

Nodding to herself, she stared at her hands curled on her lap. Now that the truth was out, she needed to make a choice. Stay with him and convince herself that nothing really happened or part ways with him. The thing in itself could be perceived as something small and not worthy of a break-up, this much y/n knew. Of course, you can’t expect your partner to not find other women or men attractive just because they were in a relationship. And she had been honest when she told him that we can’t control who we’re attracted to. And yeah, that tickled her biggest insecurity but it didn’t bother her that much. She wouldn’t break up with him solely for that. What did bother her though, was that this attraction he felt was, in some way, getting in the way of their relationship. He wasn’t attracted to some Instagram model, Frances was part of Y/n’s group. And even if Tommy had said that he was just helping her out and that’s why he had touched her, y/n couldn’t ignore the fact that, for whatever reason, he had never really touched her. Were the two things connected? She didn’t know, she could only speculate because Tommy hadn’t answered her. Was it possible that she was just overreacting? That this was just how he was and she was creating a problem where there wasn’t one because she couldn’t ask him something that she knew he couldn’t give her and then construct a case on the fact. But was it what she was doing? Or were her concerns legitimate?

Tommy shifting slightly on his seat brought y/n back. She was overthinking this. The only way she could sort this out was by talking to him. Turning her head slightly she peeked at him from the corner of her eyes. She knew that Tommy wasn’t a talker and she had a feeling that she wouldn’t get much more out of him tonight. It was getting late or well early, anyway so maybe it was best to discuss this again after a night’s sleep.

“Thank you for coming by, Tommy. And for your honesty but I think it’s best if we save this for tomorrow.” Her voice startled him a bit, he was also lost in his thoughts. Y/n then went to open the car door to get out of it just as his hand reached out to hers.

“Wait,” Tommy’s voice halted her and he waited for her to turn around before speaking again, “are we good?” The honesty and the innocence of the question made her heart tighten and she wanted nothing more than to tell him that everything was fine. But he had been honest with her so she owed him the same treatment.

“I don’t know,” y/n whispered reluctantly looking into his eyes. She went to get out again but he pulled her gently to him before she could.

“At least give me a kiss,” he muttered shyly while his eyes flickered to her lips. He knew that she was hurt and still hadn’t made up her mind about what to do, but at the same time, he knew that if she kissed him it meant that she wasn’t that mad and that things were going to be alright eventually. So when she just stroked his cheek gently, looking at his lips with what he recognised as longing, and then pulled away from him, he felt his breath get stuck in his lungs. She hadn’t allowed herself to kiss him. Otherwise, she would have forgiven him too quickly. But this matter was important and she needed to sort her head out and understand how she felt about it before she could allow him to swap her off her feet with a kiss.

Watching her walk back to her house, Tommy knew that things were about to get rocky. He felt like this was his fault but at the same time, he felt clean enough to say that he hadn’t done anything. He did think that Frances was attractive but he hadn’t acted out on the feeling. Yes, thinking about it, he could see why y/n said that he had only had eyes for her at dinner. Was it because he was pulled to her? Not exactly. The girl had talked his ears off all evening and the only reason why he put up with it was that y/n was sitting right beside him. Anchoring him, calming him. If there was something y/n had gotten right was that he wasn’t affectionate. He very rarely would wrap his arm around her, or hold her hand in his or put his hand on her thigh when they were sitting next to each other but it wasn’t because he was too taken by Frances that he didn’t even notice y/n beside him. In all fairness, Tommy had never thought that she’d want him to do something like that. Y/n was very shy and reserved too so when they’d walk together or stand close to each other, she would keep her distance so he took it as a sign that told him that she didn’t want to be touched. It seemed like they both thought the same thing and instead of respecting the other’s boundaries like they thought they were doing, they were only driving each other apart.

Tommy had a half mind to get out of the car and make her come down again but looking at the time on the dashboard, he thought against it. Tomorrow was almost here anyway, he could wait another couple of hours. Pulling out of her driveway, he knew that sleep wasn’t an option anymore. Better to put this time to use and think about the right words to say, he guessed.

The following day

They say that night brings good counsel. It certainly didn’t bring sleep to either of them. Y/n couldn’t help but overthink the whole situation trying to figure out if she could work this out with him or if this was one of those things she wasn’t willing to accept. On the other side, Tommy had spent the night trying to think of the next step. Even though he thought he hadn’t done anything wrong, he was smart enough to know that he was in a tough spot. He didn’t regret telling the truth because he knew that y/n deserved it and that she’d be more willing to work it out if he was. However, no matter if honesty was the best policy, it still had some repercussions. He could only hope that they weren’t irreparable.

So, his whole working out routine was spent thinking. He knew that he cared about her and that being in a relationship meant that there would be some rough times. And while he hadn’t expected them to happen so early in the relationship, he still thought that y/n was worth the hassle that the inevitable confrontation would bring. It was now around lunchtime and he still hadn’t come up with a speech.

Since it was Thursday, he knew that she’d be leaving university in about an hour. He wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible, Tommy didn’t want to get used to the heavy feeling that had taken over his heart since last night, so he opted for picking her up. Luckily he had enough time to go back home, change and still make it on time for the end of her lessons.

And he did make it on time, he was even early so he got out of the car and leaned on its hood to wait for her- this way he was sure that y/n would see him. There wasn’t a bell that went off, signalling to everyone that the day was over. Maybe it was because the lessons had so many different timetables that it was impossible to stay behind them all. Tommy didn’t know any of y/n’s classmates so when he started seeing people walking out of the building, he couldn’t guess if y/n was about to come out too. Oh well, he thought, he’ll have to wait and look out for her. He kept his eyes on the crowd and felt himself cringe when they fell onto Frances’ face. He was about to look away and hide in his car but it was too late, she spotted him. She instantly smiled at him and made her way over to him while Tommy looked frantically over her shoulders hoping, praying, not to see y/n.

Time was not his best friend today though, because as soon as he tore his eyes away from the crowd to greet Frances that was now in front of him , y/n walked out of the building and was making her way towards where they were standing since Tommy had parked right in front of the University entry. He had done it so that he wouldn’t miss her walking out but now that things weren’t going according to plan, he actually regretted the choice. Y/n was talking with Olivia so she didn’t immediately see them. Of course, she was bound to and when she did she stopped dead in her tracks.

She… she didn’t know what to think. They had parted on the shared thought of talking the following day but she hadn’t expected him to come to pick her. If he even had come for her because by the look of it, it didn’t seem so. Maybe she really had been stupid in letting him off the hook partly and even considering staying with him. She tried to not make a big deal out of his attraction to Frances thinking that it was somewhat normal but now? Seeing them together? She found that she couldn’t just walk past this. They needed to address this problem and talk it through, however… did they really have to? Wasn’t it clear enough that Tommy was interested in Frances? At this point, what good does it do to talk? He had made his decision, it seems.

“Y/n…” Olivia warned her. She knew her friend well and looking at her staring at the couple, she was certain of what she was thinking. And while she found the whole situation a bit disturbing and unusual, she knew that Tommy did care for y/n and that the only way to solve this was to talk it through. But by the look on her face, it seemed that y/n had already made her mind up .

“You have to distract them,” y/n instructed her.

“What?”

“Please, I can’t do this right now. I need to walk past them without them seeing me.” Yes, Olivia thought that this wasn’t the best way to deal with the situation but y/n was her best friend, and she’d always support her.

“Okay,” she conceded, “but just so you know, I do not approve of this,” she let her know before instructing her to meet her at the car. And then Olivia turned around and walked toward Tommy and Frances. While she was too busy talking about god knows what, Tommy was still looking around. Olivia could only imagine who he was looking for, but she had a pretty good idea. This only proved that she was right. But she knew that other than giving y/n her input on the situation, she had to leave it to her. Even if it meant watching her crush into the wall of her mistakes. Then she’d pick her up and dry her tears but for now, she’ll play along.

“Hey, guys. Frances, I thought you had already left.” Addressing her directly, Olivia moved so that the University entrance where y/n was standing was not in their line of sight anymore. She didn’t even bother hearing Frances’ response, once she had checked that y/n had slipped away unnoticed, she quickly said her goodbyes.

“Oh would you look at the time, I need to go.” And just like that, she left them and walked quickly over where her car was and where y/n was waiting for her. Unaware but unbothered by the two's reaction to her weird behaviour, Olivia almost laughed when she saw how y/n had tried to disguise herself.

“Are you running away from the law?” She snickered when y/n flinched at her sudden appearance but quickly unlocked the doors and slipped in all the same. At the same time Olivia pulled away from the parking lot, Tommy was realizing that there weren’t any more people coming out of the building. So y/n had either not come to University at all that day, or she was avoiding him. There was no way that she’d walked out and not saw him standing there. As Frances kept talking about whatever, dread suddenly filled him as he realized that of course, she had seen him. Y/n had inevitably seen him and that meant that she had also seen him standing there with Frances. And even if he had only begun to know her a little, he could swear that y/n had most definitely misread the situation.

“Was y/n in today?” Tommy didn’t even realize that he had interrupted her rudely, but he didn’t even care if he had to be honest.

“Yes, I haven’t seen her since the last lesson ended though.” Frances looked puzzled but Tommy got exactly what he wanted from her. He quickly excused himself and hurriedly climbed into the car. His phone automatically connected to the car via Bluetooth and he asked for it to call y/n as he tapped into the traffic. But of course, she didn’t answer.

In a black Mini a few miles ahead, Olivia glanced down at y/n’s phone when she saw the screen light up and shook her hand in disapproval when her friend denied the incoming call.

“You’re making her win, you know,” Olivia observed keeping her eyes on the traffic.

“It’s not her Liv, I don’t think there’s anything I can do about it,” y/n sounded resolute and defeated but it went over Olivia’s head how could she be so blind and such a pushover.

“Listen y/n, I’m not saying that this is easy nor that it’s all in your head because he was pretty open about it, right? What I’m saying is that it doesn’t matter if he is attracted to her, you told him yourself that it’s something we can’t control. What should matter is who he is choosing to be with.” Taking advantage of a red light she turned to y/n to make sure that her words got to her.

“Have you not seen them before? He’s made his choice alright,” y/n’s voice trembled a little as she made this observation that, to her surprise, made her best friend snicker.

“Oh please, how blind are you? He was clearly waiting for you.” Liv was stating the obvious in her point of view but y/n hadn’t really thought about it that way.

“Do you think so?” She shyly asked her friend. Was it possible that she had misread the whole situation? In the meantime, Tommy was still calling her and she was still not answering. But she wasn’t declining either.

“You should really talk to him,” Olivia suggested as Tommy’s name appeared for the tenth time on her best friend’s phone. Y/n stared at it while she pondered Liv’s words.

And then she accepted the call.

“Y/n?” Tommy spoke as soon as he heard the call going through, “where are you? We need to talk, please.”

Maybe Olivia was right, y/n thought, maybe she had got it all wrong. Tommy had never sounded so… desperate.

“I’m almost home, meet me there?” She proposed, nervously twisting the fabric of her jacket with her fingers. Tommy agreed and she ended the call under the approval of Liv’s eyes.

Y/n didn’t know if it had been the traffic being almost nonexistent or if Tommy had driven recklessly but they both arrived at the same time. While she thanked Liv for the lift and promised to call her later, Tommy parked in her driveway.

They started working towards each other at the same time but stopped a few feet away. In a stranger’s eyes, they must have looked weird, standing like they were, a few feet away, staring at each other.

“Listen-”

“So-”

Of course, true to their awkward selves, they spoke at the same time, cutting each other off. Strange as it may seem, it helped diffuse the tension a little since both of them found it amusing. Softly nodding her head, y/n prompted Tommy to talk first. It looked like whatever he had to say, he needed to get it off his chest. But why was it that now that he had her attention, none of the words he had previously prepared were coming out? Why were they stuck in the back of his throat? There was no reason to be nervous. He would explain everything and y/n would understand and forgive him.

Taking a deep breath he decided to start from the beginning and work from there.

“I know you’ve seen me with Frances early,” he started tentatively. Eyes boring in hers, he tried to convey everything he was feeling through them. Y/n had always told him that he had expressive eyes, he hoped that they could help him now. When y/n nervously shifted on her feet and briefly looked away from him, he knew that it was her way of telling him that she did. So he moved onto the next point.

“And I know that you’ve probably misread the whole thing so I wanted to explain.” He finished and y/n could see that he was being honest and how difficult this was for him at the same time. Tommy had never been very good with words but she didn’t need a lengthy speech, she just needed him to answer two simple questions and then they could move on from this.

“I just need to know two things, Tommy,” halting him from continuing, she straightened her shoulders as if she was getting ready to physically bear his answers in case they weren’t what she was hoping to hear. He didn’t let out any sound but internally, Tommy was grateful that she had taken the lead. He probably would have made a mess with his words and made things worse. Hiding his hands in the pocket of his hoodie to hide his nervous gestures, he grunted. Ask away, he was saying.

“Why were you outside my uni today?” Before she could turn back and shy away from this confrontation, y/n asked the question with a firm yet kind tone. She wasn’t angry at him, not yet at least. She was just hurt by the possibility of him choosing Frances over her. But there was still a chance that that wasn’t going to happen.

Furrowing his eyebrows in surprise, Tommy wasn’t expecting that to be her first question. He answered her anyway, “I came to pick you up. Yesterday we agreed that we were going to talk today and I wanted to get this over with as soon as possible.” He didn’t mention how his heart had grown heavier since she had climbed out of his car the night before. And yet, that seemed to be what y/n wanted to hear. Her cheeks reddened slightly when Tommy admitted that he was yearning for reconciliation. Well, maybe yearning wasn’t the right word to use but whatever. Even if y/n didn’t know, it was actually spot on.

The second question was the one that would actually seal the deal, and no matter if she was a little more heartened by his first answer, she was still on edge.

“Who do you want to be with?” And there it was. As the words fell out of her mouth, she realized that this was the important thing. The only thing she needed to know and the only thing that truly mattered. Because whoever Tommy decided to be with, he was actively choosing her over any other woman that he could meet- hopefully. It meant that whatever attraction he may feel, now and in the future, it won’t be acted upon. Because he had made his choice.

It was a simple question but at the same time, it implied a more complex concept and Tommy was aware of that. He was slightly offended that she was doubting him, however, he knew where it was coming from after their last argument. He had never been really good at figuring out what she was thinking about, where her mind was at. Tommy had always considered y/n as a girl with a busy mind, thinking about nothing and a million things at the same time. In rare times of intimacy, she had admitted that most of the time, that was what brought her to self-sabotage. Because thinking was good and everyone should be able to think for themselves, she said, the problem is when you start overthinking. That’s what always got her. So in a way, even from his clueless position on her thoughts’ process, Tommy sensed that by focusing on two simple things, y/n was forcing her thoughts to simmer down. To not listen to the voices in her head that would paint a situation more dramatic than it really was and forcing herself to look at this in a rational way.

“I wanna be with you, y/n. I’m choosing you. Always.” And just like that, with three simple sentences, y/n’s mind was put at ease. No more voices whispering that she wasn’t enough, that Tommy was better off without her, that he would soon leave her for someone better. Enough of that. Her boyfriend was here, standing in front of her, reassuring her, telling her that he wanted her. Only her.

Once, y/n had read somewhere that when you smile or laugh it’s because the body literally can’t contain the happiness you’re feeling. Looking into Tommy’s eyes, she failed to contain her smile and she realized that it was actually true. And that wasn’t the only thing she’d failed to do. After Tommy’s admission, she couldn’t bear to be apart from him anymore. Taking the last steps that divided them, her arms circled his neck and she held him close to her despite the height difference. As soon as he saw her reaching out, Tommy leaned into her and held her waist in a tight bear hug. As much as athletic Tommy was, after he’d bent like this for a while, his back would always start hurting. So, moving his hand to the back of y/n’s legs, he bent his legs to lift her up. Neither of them seemed to be wanting to let go any sooner, so he made sure that both of them were comfortable and walked over the bench on y/n’s house’s patio.

“I’m sorry I overreacted.” She rested her face on his shoulder but even if her voice had come out muffled since it was still buried in his neck, Tommy heard her all the same. Leaning back so that he could see her, he quietly spoke next to her ear.

“I’m sorry I made you doubt yourself and us,” being honest with her had led Tommy to hurt her feelings when it was the last thing he ever intended to do, “I have never thought of being with her, y/n, I swear,” he added. Y/n knew that he was telling the truth, and that deep down this whole thing escalated because it resembled one of her worst fears. She slipped her hand on the back of his head and gently massaged the scalp there while he leaned his face on hers, his cheek on her forehead. Guilt was lacing his words despite her attempt to soothe him.

“I trust you, Tommy, it’s just- seeing her so into you and then you admitting that you found her attractive it seemed like the universe was trying to show me that we’re not really meant to be,” she admitted, secretly hinting at her fear. To say that Tommy was baffled was an understatement. Apparently, he was one of those boyfriends that never had a clue of what was going on because up until now he had been completely clueless about this insecurity of hers.

“Why do you think that?”

“I’m not saying that we’re not meant to be together,” realizing that she might have expressed herself wrongly, she lifted her head so that they were face to face, “I wanna be with you and it seems that you want to be with me too and that’s all that matters,” she added hoping that the conversation would end there. They had just solved a problem, she didn’t want to cause another. Unfortunately for her though, Tommy could feel that there was more that she wasn’t saying.

“But?” he prompted her in vain. Looking at her hands in her lap, well his really, y/n avoided his eyes and his question.

“I thought you trusted me,” he added when he saw that she was reluctant to speak.

“It’s just that sometimes I wonder why you’re with me,” she whispered but given how close they were, she didn’t need to speak louder for him to hear.

“What do you mean?” His eyebrows creased, letting the line between them come through. It seemed that today her goal was to make him more and more confused.

“C’mon Tommy, you can’t be that clueless,” she scolded him getting restless on his lap. Refusing to let her get away with this and climb off of him, he gripped her waist gently to keep her in place.

“Tell me,” staring hard at her face, she was still not facing him, he encouraged her to speak. Letting out an exasperated sigh, she finally gave in.

“You’re way out of my league Tommy, even a blind person can see that.”

Okay, now Tommy was absolutely stunned. What was she on about? He knew that she wasn’t the most confident girl but he didn’t realize she thought so little of herself.

“I could say the same thing about you, you know,” he pointed out what was a totally obvious thing for him but, judging by the expression on her face, it wasn’t for her. Actually, her face expressed a mixture of surprise and anger? It was her “do you think I’m stupid?” face.

“I’m serious,” shrugging his shoulders and tightening his grip on her. Nothing but honesty in his eyes. Y/n could see that but her insecurities run too deep for her to really consider what he was saying to be true.

“You’re way too smart for me. With all the things you know, all the books you read, I’m constantly asking myself why you’re with me.” If there was one thing that Tommy and y/n had in common was that they both would rather do anything else than talk about themselves and their feelings. Let’s say that they didn’t like being under the spotlight. However, for the right reasons- or rather for the right person, they could manage to endure it. Like in this case. Tommy could set aside his reservation to open up just as she did. “There’s nothing much I can give you,” he added softly searching for her eyes that, this time, were searching for his as well.

Her heart swelled in her chest at his confession while she smiled fondly at him. Tommy never ceased to amaze her. How could he doubt himself? Not only a good-looking guy but a good guy in general. Genuinely a good guy. Her hands found their way back to his neck, holding it gently while she spoke.

“That’s not true, Tommy,” she assured him, her thumb lightly stroking his lower lip.

“Just like those things you said ain’t either,” he argued before leaving a kiss on her finger, eye contact never broken. Taking his words in, y/n finally understood. It wasn’t a matter of what was true or not. What was the truth anyway? Isn’t it everything subjective after all? Just like their perception of themselves. What they thought about themselves, wasn’t necessarily shared by others. It was almost never shared, actually. What was that saying? Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

Leaning down, their foreheads touched while she gave him an eskimo kiss.

“It’s all in our heads, isn’t it?”

“It is,” he agreed on her lips.

“Let’s make a promise then,” pulling away just enough so that she wasn’t talking on his mouth but still keeping a soft tone she continued, “in order to avoid something like this to happen again, whenever we’re dealing with our insecurities, we speak about it. I want you to come to me whenever you’re thinking like this and I’ll do the same,” she proposed. “I know it’s not going to be easy. But I really want this to work and I think this will help,” she added before he could object.

Of course, it wasn’t going to be easy. Neither of them was really keen on opening up and they both knew that. However, y/n was right, Tommy knew that however hard it’d be for him, he'd do it all the same if that meant avoiding the last few days from repeating ever again.

“I want this to work too,” he conceded implicitly sealing the promise, “can I have a kiss now?” he then asked with a slight smirk. Chuckling, y/n didn’t need for him to say it again. Closing the space between them, she placed her lips on his for a very much needed kiss. His hand trailed up in her hair to keep her in place as the kiss grew more intense. It was basically the PG-13 version of make up sex. Well, seeing how their tongues were enjoying themselves, maybe it wasn’t PG-13 that much but still, both of them would agree that sealing a deal had never felt this good.

#tommy conlon #tommy riordan #tommy conlon x reader #tommy conlon imagines #tommy conlon imagine #tommy conlon angst #tommy conlon fluff #tommy conlon one shot #tommy conlon x you #tommy x you #warrior #tom hardy x reader #tom hardy imagines #tom hardy imagine

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temilyrights · 3 years

Text

a christmas to remember

Summary: Jack Sloane x Reader. Jack invites you to join her for Christmas after you miss your flight home.

A/N: It’s done. It’s finally done. I don’t think I’ve ever been so stressed out trying to get a fic done. I’ve been feeling pretty rough mentally the last month so writing pure fluff was difficult ahaha. You can all thank @strongsassysexysloane for the idea! She’s the one that sent it to me. Sorry it’s a little late but I did manage to get it out before new years so I guess that’s something.

Read on AO3

It’s nearing seven o’clock when Jack finishes packing up for the day. Usually, she’d consider that early, but it was Christmas Eve and she’d spent the whole day drowning in paperwork. Last-minute evals for cases and finishing up the yearly NCIS staff review meant she was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to go home and soak in the tub with a glass of wine. She knew Gibbs’ team had closed their case around midday so when she descends the stairs to leave, she’s surprised to see you still at your desk.

She almost misses you. You’re slumped over, head resting on your desk and from the looks of it, you had been asleep for a while. The desk lamp was still on, and a YouTube video was playing from the computer. The case the last few days had been exhausting so she’s not surprised you’re knackered, but she was sure you were meant to be on your way home to see your family.

She stands there for a period of time that should probably be considered creepy, watching your soft mumbles and enjoying the rare sight of you looking so peaceful. She smiles to herself, and then quietly speaks your name, “Y/N.” No response. She gently shakes your arm, “Y/N. It’s time to wake up.”

“Go away,” You mumble, barely conscious.

Jack laughs, and softly strokes your hair, “Come on sleepy head.”

“Breakfast later. I promise.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.” She smirks and steps back. There was an easy way to get you up. “You’re going to be late for work.”

It does the trick. You practically shoot up in your chair. Jack grasps your elbow to steady you as you manically look around the room and catch your bearings. “Huh? What?” Understanding settles in a moment later and a light blush coats your cheeks. “Oh.”

Jack drops your elbow and steps back, chuckling, “I thought I probably shouldn’t leave you to sleep here the entire night.”

“Thanks.” You mumble, “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“It was a long case.” She nods in understanding. Jack hadn’t been involved much apart from a couple of evals, but she’d seen how worn down it had left the whole team. She’d been so swamped with her own work she hadn’t had time to check in on anyone. “I thought the team left around lunchtime?”

“They did. I had paperwork to finish.” You shrug and begin packing away your things.

Jack pointedly looks to the paused YouTube video on your computer that definitely wasn’t related to work. “Aren’t you meant to be going to see your family?”

Your face drops, “I missed the flight. Next one out isn’t until the 26th.”

Jack’s sighs, and squeezes your hand, “Oh, Y/N, I’m sorry.” You had been talking about going home all month. You’d told her in detail about the L/N’s family Christmas traditions. She hated the idea you were going to miss out on so much.

“It’s why I’m still here. Didn’t really feel like going home.”

“You could have come and visited me. You know my doors always open to you.” She shakes your hand slightly before letting go.

“I thought you’d already left to be honest.”

“I wish.” She rolls her eyes, “I wanted to get the staff review done.”

You quirk a brow, smirking, “Did I pass?”

She huffs, eyes light with humour, “With flying colours. Apparently, it’s not appropriate to fail someone on account of them being an absolute pain in the ass.”

“Hmm, good thing really, otherwise Gibbs would have been fired years ago.”

You jump out the way before Jack can swat you on the arm. Both of you dissolve into laughter.

“So, what are your plans for tomorrow then?” Jack asks after you’ve calmed down and are making your way to the elevator.

You shrug, “Don’t have any. I’ll just celebrate on the 26th.”

She comes to a halt in disbelief, “You’re not going to go anything?”

“Watch a Christmas film and catch up on all the chores I’ve been neglecting I guess.”

“Nuh-uh. There’s no way you’re spending Christmas day doing chores! Come spend the day with me instead.”

Your mouth drops open, “W-what? I couldn’t-”

“Apart from baking cookies, I don’t have any plans for the daytime. I’m going to Faith’s for dinner, but we can still spend the morning together.”

“I don’t want to intrude.”

“You’re not intruding. In fact, I'm actually insisting.”

“Jack…”

“Come on, it’ll be fun. Unless you’d rather spend the day being miserable?”

A small smile spreads across your face, and you nod. “Okay.”

“Okay!” Jack grins, jumping on the balls of her feet. “Be at mine at 0800 hours with the breakfast you promised me.” She winks, and steps forward, hitting the button for the elevator.

“Breakfast?” You frown, “When did I promise you breakfast?”

----

“Merry Christmas, Jack!” You grin as she opens her front door.

“Cute hat.” She laughs, stepping back to allow you to enter. She makes sure to flick the white pom-pom on the end of the Santa hat as you pass.

“Thanks.” Jack accepts the bag of diner food, while you take your coat and shoes off. “Sorry, I’m a little late. The diner was busier than I expected. Elaine told me to tell you ‘Merry Christmas’ by the way. I can’t believe you’ve been here the shortest time out of everyone, bar Kasie, and yet somehow you’re her favourite.”

Jack laughs as she makes her way to the kitchen where she already has plates laid out. She begins to dish up the food as you take a seat. “Not my fault I’m a people person, and anyway Gibbs is her favourite.”

You roll your eyes, “True but second place is bloody impressive considering he’s been around over twenty years and you’ve only been here three.”

Jack hums and takes the seat next to you. “You can just admit you’re jealous.”

“I’m not hiding that fact. I’ve been here for seven years and you don’t see me getting free food.”

“Free?”

“‘Christmas with Jacqueline? How sweet. Coffee's on the house.’” You mimic, taking a sip of said drink.

“So, you got free coffee too?”

You huff, “That’s not the point I’m making.”

Jack laughs, “But it’s the point you made. And anyway, she likes you. She always makes a point to ask me how you’re doing whenever I go in there.”

“And she always asks me about you.” You smile softly and Jack’s heart thumps in her chest.

She clears her throat, dropping her eyes to her food. “Let’s eat. We can spend the rest of the day squabbling over who Elaine likes best if you want but for now, I really want this bacon in my belly before it gets cold.”

You laugh and begin to dig into your own food.

After breakfast is finished and cleared away, you goad Jack into a game of cards. You’re always so cocky and competitive when it comes to games, so she spends the whole time teasing you and trying not to laugh at your serious concentration.

What makes it worse is that she always wins, but it’s not her fault you were ridiculously easy to read. Honestly, for an agent your poker face was terrible.

“Now I've whipped your ass, can we go make cookies?”

“Are you gonna cheat at that too?” You snark as you clean up the cards.

Jack arches a brow as humour dances in her eyes, “Someone’s a sore loser.”

“I’m not a-”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” She leaves you cleaning up and makes her way to the kitchen, ignoring the daggers you were glaring into her back.

----

“Jack?” You call. She hums but doesn’t turn around, too focused on measuring out the ingredients in front of her. She feels you come up behind her, face poking over her shoulder.

“Can I help you?” She chuckles and places the bag of sugar back down. Her breath catches when she turns to look at you. You’re so close, and Jack watches as your eyelashes flutter and can’t help the way her eyes momentarily fall to your lips. She jumps when suddenly you flick flour in her face. She coughs, “What the hell, Y/N!”

You dissolve into laughter, stumbling backwards, and Jack rolls her eyes and wipes the flour from her face. She grabs the bag of flour from the counter before turning to face you with a raised brow, “Oh, you wanna play huh?”

Your face drops, as she saunters over with a devilish smirk. “You wouldn’t dare.” You shake your head, leaning against the wall.

“Try me.” She grabs a pinch of flour and before you can move, flicks it at you.

“Satisfied?” You laugh, wiping it from your cheeks.

“Not even close.” She lifts the flour bag higher and you quickly run out of the way screaming.

“Don’t you dare! You’ll ruin my jumper.”

She wouldn’t but it was fun to make you think so solely to see the panic crossing your face. Although, it would also be a good way of getting you out of your clothes. Jacqueline. She curses herself.

“Fine, but just know this isn’t the end.” She says with a playful glare. You sigh in relief, shoulders slumping slightly as Jack returns the flour to the counter. “Now do you fancy helping me with these cookies?”

You murmur something Jack doesn’t quite catch, and she looks to you with a frown, “What was that?”

“Nothing!” You grin innocently, quickly making your way to the counter, “What can I do to help?”

She stares at you for a moment but decides not to push further. “How about you start mixing everything together while I measure out the remaining ingredients.”

“Yes, boss.” You nod, mock saluting.

Jack flicks flour at you again.

----

“Sorry about that,” Jack says as she enters the living room, returning to her seat next to you on the couch.

You quickly swallow down a mouthful of cookie. Jack refrains from commenting on the fact you’d managed to eat half the plate in the space of a ten-minute phone call. “Is Faith okay?”

The soft smile that always lights up Jack’s face whenever Faith is mentioned appears, “Yes, she was just asking if I could pick some carrots up for this evening. She forgot to get some, and between the hospital and the pregnancy everything has been a little manic.”

“I can only imagine.” You hum.

“She’s also invited you to join us tonight.”

Your face drops in surprise, “What? Really? Why?”

“She said no one should be alone on Christmas, and I agree so please come.”

You chuckle, “I’ve spent the whole day with you. I’m not alone. Anyway, I don’t want to intrude on your time with Faith.”

Jack reaches out and squeezes your hand. “Her fiancé, Andrew, will be there too. It’ll be fun, and you’ll finally get the chance to meet her.” It makes her nervous as hell, but god did she want the two of you to meet each other. You still look uncertain, so her face softens, and she squeezes your hand again, “Please? It would mean a lot to me if you came.”

“You’re sure?”

She nods.

“Okay then.” You agree as your face breaks out into a grin.

Jack grins back and squeezes your hand one last time before letting go. “Yay!”

You chuckle, nodding your head towards the television, “Can we get back to the movie now?”

“Yes.” She sinks back into the couch and grabs the blanket you were currently using, to cover her legs.

“Hey, don’t steal it all.” You protest, already moving closer so the blanket was covering you too.

And, well, if she ends up drifting off at some point, snuggling into your shoulder...neither one of you comment on it.

----

She wasn’t really sure what she’d expected when Faith had invited you to join tonight, but she knows it wasn’t this. She hadn’t dared let herself hope for this…

Because you fit in perfectly. Jack watched as you told Andrew about a case from the other month, he was hanging off every word while Faith tried not to laugh at her fiancé’s expression, instead shooting Jack an affectionate eye-roll from where she sits opposite her.

“So, then Nick comes storming in ready to kick some ass and I’ve already got the three guys on the floor and handcuffed.”

“On your own?” Andrew asks in wonder.

“Well, I mean Gibbs was there too but that’s beside the point.” You huff. Everyone starts laughing. You laugh along too and pick up your wine glass to take a sip.

“This is delicious by the way.” Jack hums, taking another bite of food. Faith and Andrew had made enough food to supply a small army. She had no idea how they’d managed it, especially considering their small kitchen.

“Best Christmas dinner I've had in a long time.” You nod along, as Faith’s cheeks tinge pink from the praise and Andrew smiles brightly.

She chuckles bashfully, “Thank you. It was nothing, really.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, babe. You put in a lot of work for today.” Andrew says, squeezing Faith’s hand from where he sat beside her.

Jack turns to you and is surprised to find you already watching her with a soft smile. Jack frowns slightly, “You okay?” She asks quietly as Faith and Andrew continue talking to each other.

You nod, “I’m good. Great actually. Thank you for letting me join today.”

Her face softens, and she reaches over and gently squeezes your knee, “Thank you for coming. I couldn’t choose a better group of people to share the day with.”

A light blush covers your cheeks and you quickly duck your head in an attempt to hide it, but Jack catches it. The sight makes her smile more, and she squeezes your knee one more time before letting go and returning to her meal.

After dinner, there’s more wine and a game of charades. Turns out Andrew is amazing, even with alcohol in his system. He and Faith guess the majority of each other’s charades within a minute. Meaning it’s mainly the two of them going back and forth while Jack and you sit on the couch and try to keep up.

“I feel we are at a disadvantage here.” You huff.

“Definitely.” Jack laughs.

“Are you guys ready?” Faith asks as she grabs a piece of paper out of the bowl. She reads the paper, a small smile spreading across her face as she shoves it into her cardigan pocket. “Okay.”

She holds up seven fingers and you and Andrew both instantly shoot up from the couch, shouting in unison, “The lion, the witch, and the wardrobe!”

Faith’s mouth drops open in disbelief, “Yes, but how?”

The competitive glint is back in your eye and Andrew instantly backs away, hands up in surrender, “You can have the go. I’m not arguing with a woman who has a gun.”

“Don’t worry Andrew, she’s all bark and no bite,” Jack smirks. Faith starts laughing as she returns to the lounge chair.

You arch a brow, turning back to face her. “I can bite if you want me to.”

Jack rolls her eyes and takes another sip of wine in hopes that no one will notice the slight pink tinge to her cheeks.

Andrew laughs. “I’m currently in a room with three women that could kill me if they were so inclined, I think I’m going to let you take this one.” He hands you the bowl of paper and moves to take the seat next to Jack.

“Suddenly rethinking your career choice, dear?” Faith laughs.

“Oh no.” He shakes his head, “I’m very happy spending my days counting numbers, thank you very much.”

Jack smothers a laugh when she sees your face scrunch up like it always did when someone mentioned maths. “Andrew, I think you should give Y/N a maths lesson.” She teases. Your head instantly snaps to her, and you send a glare so icy she’s surprised she isn’t frozen in place.

“Oh, I’d happily do that if-”

“No, no, no. Thank you, Andy, but that’s definitely not necessary.” You quickly cut him off.

Andrew chuckles, and nods. “Fair enough. And Jack?”

She hums.

“How many more times do I have to tell you to please call me Andy? Or should I start calling you Jacqueline?”

She laughs and dips her head. “Right, sorry. Andy.” When she looks back up, you’re watching her with twinkling eyes. Jack clears her throat, “Back to charades?”

----

“Again, thank you so much for inviting us tonight. It’s been amazing.” Jack says as she slips her coat back on.

Faith smiles warmly, “I’m really glad you came, and it was nice to finally meet Y/N.” They both turn to look at you, still excitedly talking to Andrew. “You should bring her with you the next time we do something.”

Jack’s brows raise in shock as she turns back to look at Faith, who’s smirking knowingly. “Really?”

“Yeah. I feel Andy’s probably got another fifty questions he wants to ask about what it’s like being an agent.”

Jack cackles at that, earning her the attention of you.

“What’s so funny?” You ask, coming up to stand beside her, lightly bumping into her side.

“Oh, nothing.” Jack hums innocently. Your eyes narrow and a playful smirk tugs at your lips. Instead of pushing further, you turn to Faith.

“Thank you for including me in your Christmas.”

“It was great to finally meet you.”

“And you. And Andy.” You say, smiling at him as he wraps an arm around Faith’s waist.

“Are you sure we can’t order you a cab?”

You shake your head, grinning, “Nope, It’s all good.”

Jack still doesn’t know why you aren’t. She lived at least a twenty-minute drive away, which meant probably over an hour's walk and there was no way the two of you were doing that this late at night, with alcohol in your system, and when there was a fresh layer of snow outside.

She follows your lead though and links your arms together as you wave goodbye to Faith and Andrew and make your way down their driveway.

“Care to inform me where we are going yet?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” You tease.

Jack shakes her head with a small chuckle and leans in closer to you to protect herself from the frosty air. She’s incredibly grateful she’d been smart enough to remember her gloves, hat, and scarf.

The two of you walk in comfortable silence for a while, enjoying the crunch of the snow beneath your feet, and taking in the stars in the sky. You grow tenser as you walk, Jack’s concerned something is wrong until she turns to look at you and finds you grinning.

She’s curious, but ten minutes later her curiosity is answered when you turn onto a street that instantly causes Jack to come to a halt. “Oh wow.” She sighs in wonder. Every house on the street is decorated in bright Christmas lights. It’s breathtaking.

You turn to her with a bright smile, shrugging lightly, “I know you love Christmas lights, and I just wanted to say thank you for today. It has meant everything to me.”

Her eyes flick from the lights to you. She squeezes your hand tightly and resists the overwhelming urge to pull you in for a kiss. “You, Y/N L/N, are an astonishing human being. I…” She trails off, eyes flicking between the lights and you as emotions swirl in her throat.

“Come on.” You smile, tugging her forward. Jack sighs and follows along. Eyes bright as she takes in the beautiful displays. Your eyes track her the whole time.

----

“That was beautiful.” Jack sighs once you reach the end of the street. You both continue walking, arms still linked together. “I’ve been wanting to go on a Christmas light drive this whole month but didn’t have the time, and this completely made up for it.”

It was one of the only Christmas traditions she had kept from her childhood. Doing it always brought back happy memories and helped to get her into the Christmas spirit.

“Oh wow, I haven’t gone on a Christmas light drive since I was a kid.” You smile, remembering your own childhood.

“Maybe next year we can do one together? It’s nicer with company.”

“I’d like that.” Your cheeks turn a light pink and Jack can’t tell if it’s from her offer or the frosty air.

“It would be a lot warmer too. I wouldn’t have to freeze my tits off.” She chuckles. Your eyes fall to her chest which is hidden by a number of layers of clothes and linger for long enough that Jack catches you. She smirks to herself, already knowing your thoughts weren’t PG. “Eyes are up here Y/N.”

Your head snaps up, your cheeks turning a vibrant red. “Hm? I was just admiring your scarf. It’s nice.”

Her lips twitch, almost proud of your quick excuse. “It was my present from Kasie on her random gift day this year.”

You nod, “Good choice.”

It really was. She’d been sceptical about the rainbow patchwork when Kasie had first given it to her as it was something she’d have never picked out for herself, but now it was easily her favourite. The bright colours always cheered her up every time she wrapped it around her neck.

“Kasie’s great at picking out presents.” She could tease you more, she liked seeing you blush, but it was just too easy. “So, where are we off to next?”

“Oh, well, I don’t live too far away. I thought maybe we could go back to mine and warm up with some hot chocolate?” You bite your lip, not quite meeting Jack’s eyes.

She’s surprised at your hesitancy, and bumps her shoulder against yours, “Hot chocolate? You know I’m in.”

Fifteen minutes later she’s making her way up the pavement to your apartment. The cold had officially reached her bones and her teeth were chattering as she entered the lobby.

“As nice as that was, I vote against walking half an hour in the peak of winter again. Next time, we uber.”

You laugh as you take off your hat, shaking the snow from it. “It wasn’t too bad.”

She rolls her eyes, and reaches for one of your hands, tugging the glove off, “Take your glove off, touch my cheek and tell me that again.”

You touch her cheek but quickly pull your hand away again, “You’re freezing! Come on, let’s get you warmed up.” You grab her hand, and tug her along behind you, walking at a much faster pace than beforehand.

“I’m not going to freeze to death, we don’t need to rush.” Jack laughs, pulling you back to slow you down. She pulls harder than she intended though because you practically snap back into her arms. Her eyes fall to your lips, lingering for a moment too long. You clear your throat and Jack expects you to step away, but you don’t.

“I’ve really enjoyed today.” You say quietly.

“I hope it has made up for missing Christmas with your family.”

You chuckle, looking at Jack with a guilty smile “Is it bad to say I’m actually glad I missed my flight?”

“Only if it’s bad for me to say I’m grateful you missed your flight too.” She tilts on her feet, and carefully reaches for your hand. This time your eyes fall to her lips before you quickly look away. Jack smiles softly, “I couldn’t have asked for a better Christmas. It’s been almost perfect.”

“Almost?”

Jack’s eyes flick up, and it’s then she notices the mistletoe hanging from the ceiling above you. “Yeah, almost.” She breathes.

You follow her eye line, “Oh.”

She looks back to you, and hesitantly the hand-linked in yours moves to run up your arm before softly cupping your cheek. “Yes, oh.”

Your eyes flick between hers and her lips, and your tongue swipes out to moisten your own lips, “Let's make it perfect then.”

She smiles softly and gently guides your face closer. Her eyes track your glistening lips, before flicking to your eyes. “You’re sure?”

“Never been so sure of anything.”

That’s all she needs. And Jack finally does what she’s been fantasizing about doing for months - she kisses you. It starts off slowly, a gentle exploration, but it isn’t long before the kisses begin to heat up. Your hands grip at her waist, and she pushes herself in closer to you, removing the final bit of space.

She only pulls back when breathing becomes difficult. Your foreheads rest together as you both catch your breath. “This is definitely a Christmas to remember.”

You hum, “I think it might be my favourite.”

She kisses you again. It’s meant to be a short peck, but she quickly loses herself in it and it’s not until she hears a door open from behind her that she slowly pulls away.

You stare at her for a moment, a happy smile on your face before you look over her shoulder at the intruder. Your cheeks turn a slight pink as you nod and mutter “Merry Christmas.”

Jack looks at the older woman who she recognises as being one of your neighbours, and smiles brightly, “Merry Christmas.”

The woman shakes her head with a soft laugh, “Merry Christmas, dears. Have a good evening.”

“And you.” Jack nods. Only once the woman has walked off down a corridor does she turn back to you.

You immediately groan and drop your head to her shoulder, “I did not just get caught making out like a teenager by my neighbour!”

“Could be worse. We could have been half undressed.”

Jack actually sees your brain short circuit.

“Uh, yeah, yeah, true. We could’ve been.” You clear your throat, “Uh, so, hot chocolate?”

“Are you sure we need it?” She definitely wasn’t feeling cold anymore.

You roll your eyes, smirking. “Okay, no hot chocolate, but are you still coming in?” You lean in and whisper into her ear, “I’m sure there’s something else we could do.”

Her eyes fall shut. She wants nothing more but… “If I come in, I won’t be leaving tonight, and don’t you have an early flight tomorrow?”

You pull back to meet her eyes, “Not until 11 and it’s a short drive there which means there will even be time for breakfast. I'll make you pancakes.”

Jack hums, “Your pancakes are very good…”

“Please.” You whine before pecking her lips. You begin to leave a trail of kisses along her jawline muttering please after each one. If it weren’t for the scarf, you’d be attacking her neck.

Jack teeters as her breath becomes shallow. Her whole body was drawn to you. It always had been, and she could finally live out the dreams she’d been having for months. “Yes.”

You place a final kiss against her lips before pulling back with a proud smirk. Jack rolls her eyes, “Shut it.”

“Didn’t say anything.”

“Smugness isn’t a good look on you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about because every look is a good look for me.”

Jack laughs and shakes her head with mock disapproval. “Are you going to take me to yours or just make comments the whole night instead?”

You hum, pretending to think it over.

“I mean if you want I can just go home and take care of myself.” She arches a brow with her own cocky smirk as your eyes flash with desire. You capture her lips in a searing kiss, which quickly has her smirk fading away and her moaning into your mouth. “Okay. No more games. Bed now.” She mutters between a kiss.

You nod, dragging her towards the direction of your apartment, the two of you never separating for more than a couple of seconds. You bash into the wall and if Jack’s sole intention wasn’t getting you into a bed, she might have felt bad for your neighbours.

Jack loosens the scarf around your neck to gain access and begins to leave a trail of kisses while you struggle to open your apartment door. “Jack, you’re making this difficult.” You whine, but it quickly changes to a sigh when she hits a particular spot. “Jack, please.”

“Please what?” She breathes.

“Stop for two seconds so I can get us inside and then you can do whatever you want.”

She pulls back, eyes black with desire. You unlock the door and before you can push it open, Jack’s pushing you backwards into the room, carelessly kicking the door shut behind her and capturing your lips in a kiss that has you weak in the knees.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.” She breathes against your lips.

“Merry Christmas, Jack.”

“Now, I think there’s a bedroom you need to show me.”

Giggling you drag her in the direction of your room.

It was definitely a Christmas to remember.

#jack sloane x reader #jack sloane #jacqueline sloane #ncis #a christmas to remember #fic #fanfiction #writing #regal-roni #reader-insert #fluff

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asleepyraven · 3 years

Text

Overthinking

Summary: V tries to figure out how to prepare for a date she’s not even technically going on.

Word Count: 1,742

Warnings: Language

Characters: Female V (Nomad), Johnny

A/n: If I missed any warnings please let me know! In the mean time hope you enjoy! I sat on this one for wayyyyy too long. Previous Part: Reflections

V’s eyes slowly opened, but the light was too bright and her vision was blurry. She blinked a few times and slowly the tattoo on her arm came into focus. It annoyed her at first- a reminder of what an idiot she’d been, but now it reminded her that she wasn’t alone. Her condition was getting worse. She fell asleep to more nightmares and awoke with stronger headaches. Johnny did- god help her, get under her skin, sometimes, and he may technically be the reason she’s dying, but she was glad she wasn’t going through this by herself. Everything aside, when push came to shove, he had always been there when it mattered most.

Speak of the devil, she thought as he appeared next to her. “Finally, you’re awake. I know people say they need their beauty sleep, but fuck, doesn’t seem to help in your case.” “Good morning to you too,” V yawned as she sat up and stretched.

He glitched and reappeared standing at the window. “Afternoon is more like. Was starting to think you’d sleep right through dinner.”

“Nah, promised to call Rogue, didn’t I? Can’t exactly go out on a date for a midnight snack.” Johnny took off his glasses and looked at her. “You’re sure about this?” “Can’t say the idea of handing you the wheel again thrills me, but yeah. Besides, I kind of owe you for the whole lake date with Judy; I know that wasn’t exactly a good time for you.”

She swore she saw him shiver as he put his glasses back on. “Wasn’t exactly fun for you either, but she batted her eyelashes and you just couldn’t say no.”

V shrugged. “It was important to her, even if it did scare me half to death.”

“And you’re worried about me having control. Imagine how I feel any time a pretty girl asks you for a favor. Sure, Panam, I’ll raid a Wraith hide out with you. I’ll risk my neck to get your leader back. I’ll help you steal a god-damn tank. Sure, Judy, I’ll fight through two dozen scavs to rescue your ex. I’ll start a war with the Tyger Claws to free some joy toys. I’ll dive to the bottom of a fuckin’ toxic lake, even though I’m terrified of being underwater. You are hopeless when it comes to damsels in distress.”

“I...fine. Maybe I have an issue with saying no to my friends, but most of it was fun.” “It’s just tits you can’t say no to. You say no to me just fine.”

V laughed. “Well, technically you’ve got tits now, so there goes your theory. Besides, I said I’d do it, didn’t I? You know I’m a merc of my word. And I agreed to give you a second chance, so...so there’s no reason not to.”

He sighed. “You don’t owe me anything. If you really don’t trust me then-”

“I...I want to. It’s just...scary, is all. Weird, being trapped in my own body with no control. Felt like I was locked in my own trunk. I guess maybe that’s how you feel all the time, but, I don’t know. It’s my body. I’m supposed to be driving.” “Yeah, I can kind of understand that. Right now I’m standing here talking to you, completely aware, but the drugs take you out of it. Guess I could see how it’d be scary to only get flashes, but I promise, I’m not gonna make that mistake twice.”

“I guess we’ll find out,” V sighed and pulled up Rogue’s number.

She couldn’t believe she was really going to call up the queen of Afterlife and ask her on a date.

“V, need something?” Rogue’s tone wasn’t exactly encouraging, but the fact that she answered was proof that she was at least somewhat over the whole Grayson/Smasher business.

“Johnny wants to ask you out on a date,” V replied in a light, almost teasing tone.

“Johnny does, or you do?”

V was taken aback. “Johnny. You’re the one who said you got no issue tellin’ us apart.”

“Just not like him. Well, alright. Where would we go?”

“Where would you like to go?”

She thought about it for a moment. “Silver Pixel Cloud.”

“Alright. Sounds good. We’ll pick you up tonight then.” “Sure, come around six-thirty.”

“See you then.”

V grinned like an idiot at Johnny, who couldn’t help but smirk back a little.

He shook his head. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“’Cause it’s cute. Johnny has a date! It’s...kinda weird to think about actually.”

He pushed off the window and stood up straight, crossing his arms. “And why’s that?”

“Dunno, just hard to picture. Not like you ever had to work for your girls; they just lined up for you. Do you even know how to be romantic?”

He rolled his eyes. “You think Rogue and I hooked up in the first place because I swept her off her feet with roses and open doors?”

“I have no idea why she gave you the time of day, or why she still does for that matter. I mean, what was it, three other women you were sleeping with last time you were dating?”

“Well, she doesn’t have to worry about that now.”

“You see my point though. You have no idea how to even go on a normal date, do you?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Just trying to help. Look, we don’t have a lot of time. Make this night count is all I’m saying. Make it special somehow. Maybe be a bit of a gentleman for once in your life.”

“I’m always a gentleman.” “Riiiiighhhttt. In any case, I better get a move on if I want to get some biz done before I hand over the wheel. First thing’s first, breakfast.” * * *

V shrugged off her jacket as she entered her apartment.“Can’t believe it’s already five. Time flies when you’re doing merc work.”

Johnny lit up a cigarette. “It also flies when you sleep half the day.”

“Getting up early is overrated.”

He flopped down on the couch. “Gotta agree with you there.”

“So, excited for tonight?” V asked as she strolled over to her closet.

“Yeah, jumping up and down like a little girl, just on the inside.” “This is so weird. What do I even wear? Do I try to look hot, or should I dress more like you?” “Wow okay.”

“What? Ha, no, I just really don’t know what I should go for here.”

“Don’t think it matters, V. ‘Sides, you’re not the one actually going on the date, ‘member?”

“Yeah, but my body is.”

“Wear whatever, it doesn’t matter.”

“Doesn’t matter? Must be nice being you. What’s it like to give actually give zero fucks about what anyone thinks?”

“Fuckin’ preem. You should try it.”

“Seriously, there’s no part of you that’s self-conscious? I could dress myself in the worst sweats I have and you’d just strut out there and make it work?”

“I could, yeah.” He sat up and looked at her. “V, what’s really going on? You barely put any thought into how you dress. Why’s this any different?”

“I don’t know. It’s weird. Like, if I were dressing for a date with Judy this would be so much easier, but I’m not. I’m dressing for a date with Rogue, for you. It’s-”

“You’re thinking about it way too much.”

“You’re probably right. I’m gonna go take a shower. I’m starting to give myself a headache.” “You always have headaches.”

“Funny, I didn’t used to until you showed up.” “What, no one ever pointed out the dumb shit you do before I showed up?” V smiled sadly. “No, I used to have someone that did the dumb shit with me.” “Jackie.”

“Mhm.”

“You don’t talk about him much.”

“What was it you said when I said that about you and Alt? There was never the right time?” “Not exactly easy to just spill about your dead chooms, is it?”

“No. Not really.” They lapsed into silence until V stepped out of the shower.

“So, decide what you’re going to wear?” Johnny asked appearing behind her in the mirror.

“Fuck, can you not? You know I hate when you do that.”

“It’s not like I don’t know what you look like.”

“I know, but it’s a little easier when you’re not... Can you just- You don’t have to be right here.”

He rolled his eyes, but glitched out of view. “Really V, it’s not like there’s any secrets between us. You’ve seen me naked. Is that your issue, that it’s just you? Cause I could-” She toweled off her hair. “Fuck, no. Just, look I know all that, but give a girl her fake privacy, alright? Let me pretend that I have some space in here.” “Psht, nothin’ but empty space in here, can almost hear the echos.” “Lucky that means there was enough room for your ego.” She wrapped her towel around herself and strolled over to her closet. She decided maybe she was putting too much thought into it. She grabbed a pair of distressed jeans and tugged them on. She reached for her Samurai tank top, but stopped. She turned to Johnny. “T-shirt or tank?” “For fuck’s sake V, it doesn’t matter!” “But what would you feel more comfortable in? I mean you wear tanks, but it’s different when a girl does it.” “Why?”

She flexed her arm. “’Cause for guys it’s sun’s out guns out, but for girls,” She drew a hand across her torso. “It’s more about the chest. So I don’t know. It’s that weird for you?” “In case you missed it, this whole thing is weird. Pick whatever.” V grabbed her Samurai T-shirt instead. She went back to the mirror and spiked up her hair and brushed her teeth. “You done yet? We’re gonna be late. You know, now that I think about it, how are lesbians ever on time for dates?”

“We just add a half hour to whatever time we set,” V responded, tugging on her jacket. She slid Johnny’s shades out of the pocket and put them on. “How do I look?”

He shrugged. “Decent I guess, can we go now?”

“Yeah, let me just find the keys.”

“We takin’ the Porsche?”

“Well yeah, since my motorcycle doesn’t exactly fit two, besides I’m sure Rogue will get a kick out of it.”

He smirked. “Oh, she sure will.”

#cyberpunk 2077 #johnny silverhand x v #female v #nomad v #johnny silverhand #rogue

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mysterioh · 4 years

Text

The Ignorant Beauty & the Beast of New York - Ch. 21

PAIRING: MOB!STEVE ROGERS X READER

SYNOPSIS: You love biology. The study of life excites you. But you hate people. Especially the ones that like to stick their nose in your business. Too bad the King of Brooklyn didn’t get the memo.

MASTERLIST

A/N: I am so sorry that I wasn’t able to reply to everyone’s comments last chapter. I didn’t have much time and when I did I thought I was too late. I’m really sorry for that, but I want everyone to know that I really appreciated them!

Moonlight Serenade

Your eyes burn from the brightness of your phone.

It’s late, sometime around ten. The notes you were revising were left abandoned on the desk as you retreated into the depths of your bed, buried deep inside the blankets and pillows. You mindlessly wander from one app to another, trying to pass the time and refusing to go to sleep. A ritual you performed every night before falling asleep at an ungodly hour.

You open the messages app. Steve’s contact, decorated with an array of emojis, was at the top, bolded, and with the number “10” next to it.

Of course, he had sent more messages than just ten. These were just the latest that you had decided not to open. You left him on read for the past two days and knew for a fact that he was probably ripping his hair out at this point.

Writhe in your misery, Rogers.

Your finger hovers over his name. It feels good and bad all at the same time. You were too stubborn to admit it, but you missed him dearly.

The aroma of bergamot and olive blossom that came off him when he pulled you in for a hug. The lilt in his voice when he whined for another kiss.

It was the little things about him that you missed the most. That made your heart flutter and feel heavy at the same time.

It’s a foreign sensation. You were no dummy, you knew what it was. You were simply scared out of your mind.

“Maybe I should reply, ” you whispered to yourself then shake your head. “ No, he deserves it, ” you close the app. You swipe through the pages and sigh. “ But I miss him, ” you mumble with a frown. You open the messages app again and stare at his name and the trail of words underneath.

I know I’m stupid, but–

“Yeah, you’re stupid, but so am I, ” you thought. “ Let me call him, ” you go to the call icon in the corner.

“No, he has to call you. Don’t take the first step,” your conscious speaks.

You grumble from your inability to make a decision and slam your phone on the side table face down. You snuggle deeper into the blankets until it’s up to your nose.

“Boys are bad. Sleep is good,” you yawn.

Suddenly, a loud bang comes at the window making you jump out of bed. You stand at the edge of the window and peek at the corner to find a stupidly familiar face. You groan loudly and slide the window up.

“What is wrong with you? Are you trying to break my window?!” you whisper-shouted at him.

Steve gives you a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I have a strong arm, haha.”

You push the window down.

“No wait,” he pleads with an outstretched hand. “Please? Just listen to me this one time?”

You pause and wait for him to speak. He doesn’t say anything. “Well? I’m waiting.”

He stands straight, the streetlight above him casting a shadowed light over him. “How have you been?”

No reply.

“Tough crowd,” he murmurs with a chuckle, before clearing his throat again. “Okay, um, so I’ve never done this before and I’m only going to do it once. So listen closely.”

You roll your eyes at him and cross your arms. “Just get on with it.”

He nods and begins to sing softly. "Oh baby, baby, how was I supposed to know?"

He grows louder, gaining confidence with every word.

"That something wasn't right!"

Your eyes grow wide and jaw drops. A deep red scatters on your cheeks as you stand there dumbfounded. Steve keeps singing, off-tune with every ounce of energy in him. It’s oddly endearing, warming your heart with every note he sings off-key. But it’s not worth waking up the entire apartment complex.

You stick your head out the window "Steve stop! You're gonna get in trouble!" you hiss.

He refuses to listen and continues, really starting to feel the song with his hips.

"Show me how you want it to be. Tell me, baby, cause I need to know now oh because,"

Another window slides up and an old man sticks his head out. "Who the hell is that?" he barks, “Don't make me come down there!"

"Hey, asshole,” a woman shouts, “Shut up before I call the police!”

"My loneliness is killing me!" Steve keeps singing. “And I! I must confess I still believe, ~still believe~.” he screeches.

He’s fearless and shameless.

“Hey, you!” the grouchy woman shouts at you. “Is he yours?”

You cover your face in embarrassment, your face hotter than pepper.

"When I'm not with you I lose my mind,” he points at you. “Give me a sign!” he spreads his arms out. “Hit me, baby, one more time!”

"Steve get your butt up here right now!"

He stops immediately with the dumbest smile on his face. “Really?”

“Quit looking at me dumbass and get up here!”

He nods and runs to the door. After giving your neighbors an apologetic smile, you quickly slam the window shut. You walk over to the door and buzz Steve in. You pace in front of the door, nervously biting your nails. You’ve never been so embarrassed in your entire life. A single knock comes at the door and you swing it wide open.

Your lips twist into a scowl at the sight of him. "You are absolutely, most definitely, the worst–"

Steve cuts you off by slamming his lips onto yours. He holds your heated face in his cold hands. You melt into his arms, your knees grow weak, as he kisses you with every ounce of passion in him.

You push him away gently to catch a breath. "Wow," you whispered breathily.

A pompous grin spreads on his face. "You wanna repeat that, princess?"

You avert your gaze. “I hate you,” you pout.

"Baby, I'm sorry. Please give me another chance?"

"I shouldn't.”

He turns so you’re looking at him. He takes your hands in his. "You should,” he whines, bringing them to his lips. “Haven’t you tortured me enough?”

You break character. You always did when it came to him. "Kiss me like that again and I might reconsider,” you tell him with a smirk.

In a blink of an eye, your back hits the wall softly as Steve takes your lips in a fiery, passionate kiss. Your hands work around his body, sliding over every line of his perfect physique until they wrapped around his neck.

Unexpectedly, his hand drifts to your hips, pulling you closer to him. He began nuzzling your neck with kisses. So faint, they were like whispers. Your breath quickens. Your body grows weak in surrender to him. His head was angled slightly to the side as his lips came closer and closer to yours.

Lips parted, your breath mingled with his. Your heart flutters against your chest.

When he looks at you with his ocean blue eyes, you realize that strange feeling you were so scared of was never something to fear.

Steve was all logic and cool until your skin brushed against his. Then something not only stirred him but overtook his thinking. The only thing that mattered was touching you more, kissing your mouth, worshipping every part of you for all its worth.

When his name escapes your bruised red lips, voice sweet and breathless, laced with desire, Steve realized that you were the half that made him whole.

Sunlight shines through the curtains, rather distractingly.

You grumble softly, covering your face with the sheet and nuzzle your nose into Steve’s bare chest.

“You gonna sleep all day?” he chuckles.

“What’s it to you?” you mumble against him with a frown.

He chuckles. “Damn, did I wear you out that bad?”

You slap him on the chest.

“I was just joking.”

“I don’t like your jokes,” you grumble, turning over to your side.

He follows you, slipping his arm underneath and around you. “Baby,” he nuzzles his nose into the curve of your neck.

“Stevie,” you whine, “I wanna sleep.”

He pulls you closer until your back is taut with his chest. “But it’s almost noon.”

“You got somewhere to be?” you drawled, eyes still closed.

“Just here with you.”

You chuckle lazily. “Then let me sleep?”

Steve huffed. “I’m bored of watching you sleep.”

“You can sleep too.”

“But I don’t wanna sleep.”

You twist your neck over to look at him. “Then what do you want to do?” He gives you a coy grin. “No,” you deadpanned, turning over.

“I’m playing with you, sweetheart,” he chuckles. “Let’s go do something.”

“I prefer my Saturdays in bed.”

Steve groans before falling onto his back and flipping you over with him. “You’re incorrigible,” he mutters, reaching for the pack of cigarettes he left on the bedside table.

You snuggle into his side contentedly, wrapping an arm around his chest. “What’s so wrong with wanting to cuddle with my boyfriend?”

“There’s nothing wrong,” he speaks with a stick in his mouth. He grabs his lighter from the table and lights it, then throws it back. Your finger traces over the tattoo on his chest while he takes a languid puff. “But I thought we’d do something more fun. Something more active. Ya know?”

You turn onto your stomach and look up at him. “You just can’t sit still, can you?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs with a smug grin, “you managed to tie me down.”

“If I do recall, you were the one chasing after me,” you reply, making him blush hard.

He leans in just a bit and steals another kiss as if he hasn't already kissed you a hundred times through the night. He takes another whiff of his cigarette.

"That's gonna kill you someday," you remarked.

He chuckled. "Been doing it for a while hasn't killed me yet."

"That's because it takes time. It builds and then wham!” you smack him on the chest. He winces in reply. “It hits you when you least expect it."

He rolls his eyes before bringing it to his lips again. "If you say so, Doctor."

You frown. "I'm being serious."

"Have you ever tried it?"

"What? Smoking?" you question incredulously. "No!"

"Here try it.”

"I don't want any of that stuff,” you push his hand away.

"You're not gonna die from one whiff,” he states, “Promise. It won't kill ya."

You look at him warily as he pushes the cigarette into your face. Taking the stick from him, you hold it with your pointer and thumb. You take a slow drag and start coughing instantly. Steve laughs from his belly.

"Yuck!' You coughed.

"It's a bit strong,” he says as he wipes a tear.

"How do you even like this stuff?" You grimaced, waving it around in the air. He goes to grab it from you and you pull your hand away. "Uh, uh, not anymore," you jammed the butt of the cigarette onto the small glass plate on the side table. "Bye-bye smoking."

"You're too much sometimes."

You smiled warmly, smoothing your hands over his chest. "I'm saving your life, moron. You'll thank me later."

He takes your hand in his and kisses the back of it. “What would I do without you? Seriously, I mean it. Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

"You're so cheesy," you groaned, cupping his face with your hand. He nuzzles his face into your hand while you brush the pad of your thumb against his cheekbone. His eyelashes flutter as he looks at you with vibrant blue eyes that fill you with the warmth of the sun.

You envied just how pretty was, but at the same time felt so lucky that he was yours.

“I love you.”

It rolls off your tongue softly, so soft that it was barely audible.

“You love me?” he repeats as if he’s scared.

You swallow deeply. It wasn’t supposed to come out just yet.

“I do,” you say, “I mean at least I think I do,” you avert your gaze onto his tattoos. Your finger traces over it again, over every loop and swirl. “Truth is, I don’t really know much about love,” you whisper. “I’ve never received much of it growing up, and I’ve always been trying to run away from it. So I don’t know a lot about it.”

You take his hand in yours. A dry ache begins to form in your throat. “But with you, I don’t feel alone or afraid. The way I’ve felt my entire life. And isn’t that how you’re supposed to feel when you’re with the one you love?”

He nods slowly with a humble smile. “I think it does because I feel the same exact way when I’m with you.”

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispers. It’s only for your ears to hear. “I love you so much.”

His fingers weave into your hair pulling you closer until his lips meet yours in a searing kiss as a promise to always be yours. His other hand goes around your waist pulling you up tighter against him and yours go around his neck. He flips you over and your heart leaps when your back hits the bed.

Everything felt perfect for a moment in time. In the solace of his arms. Under the warmth of the golden morning sun. Only you and him, hidden from the rest of the world.

Every burden gone. Every fear dispelled.

Lazy mornings could never be this perfect.

Taglist (CLOSED):

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#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #mob!steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers fluff #mafia steve rogers x reader #mobster!steve rogers #mob au

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woodzwrites · 4 years

Text

good to me | song mingi

► genre: enemies to lovers!au, high school!au; angst, fluff

► pairing: reader x mingi

► word count: 8.8k

► warnings: explicit language, underage drinking/alcohol

everyone has had their fair share of first times. but for you, this surely wasn’t your first time attempting to get half-wasted: drunk enough to have fun with your friends who aren’t as half as giddy and energized as they are during the school day, but to also be able to drive back home safely before midnight and fall sound asleep in your room as if nothing happened. and it’s not your first time at mingi’s high-scale hilltop pad. everyone knows that he probably came from a line of old money, but he was never treated like the new kid. miraculously, he immediately fit in when he transferred to your high school in the first year.

you stood on the side of the ping pong table, which had turned into an impromptu beer pong table for the sake of mingi and his friends’ constant gaming bets on each other. your close friend was up against mingi, who was standing on a wooden stool as if he wasn’t already a tree himself. he just had to make sure that everyone knew that this was his house. “y/n! help me out here huh?” she smirks from cheek to cheek and raises her cup too high with a little too much power that a couple of drops of beer spill out. “what am i gonna gain from this?” you shouted at her over the loud trap music. “a chaance!” she shouts even louder than you as she tilts off the side of the table, tipsy. she falls back onto the couch behind you. “jesus....” only she knew about your slight, perhaps very minor, attraction to mingi since... sadly, freshman year. it had gone on and off, but it got worse as you got closer and closer to his friend circle and he started to (at least) acknowledge your presence. you still felt like a nobody to a lot of people but tonight, you wanted mingi to remember your name in the worst way possible. “hey mingi!” you screamed as you raised a solo cup filled with the beer you were still iffy about. he laughs with that stupid smile he’s had for years and squints to see that your friend isn’t there anymore. “y/n, who you tryna fight?” he takes a step down from his stool as he continues laughing. “you, headass.” his friends around the table all boo in unison towards mingi at the outlash from a girl like you. “oh, MY bad. let me put a fight with you, and we’ll see.” “wanna bet?” mingi’s head freezes and turns at you as he realizes, even over the entire commotion of his party, that you stole his line. his iconic line. “you win, you leave. cause i know you wanna leave. you lose, you’re stuck at my house until the crack of dawn until you make this house crystal clean,” he smirks and takes a larger sip of his beer as he gains a little more confidence from talking big with you. he always has. “damn......” almost the entire group around him echoes. “deal.” you smile even brighter at him and toss the first ping pong ball without his cue and immediately make it in. after countless rounds and the commotion around the game room getting louder and rowdier, it’s finished when mingi tosses the last ping pong ball. “KOBE!” splash. an instant win as the ball floats on top of the solo cup, ever so gently on the cheap store-bought beer. everyone around mingi starts crowding around him as if he’s made the nba playoffs of the season, and you flip him off. your friends all laugh it off as you take your last shot of beer, and of course, you join in on the laughter. you text your mom that your friend is taking you and the “girls” out for boba, and that you’ll be home by midnight. yes, you were expected to be home by 10 because you sleep extremely early for a high school upperclassman. instead, you’re stuck with mingi and his dog cleaning up his house—which seems to have no end to it, from what you’ve been sweeping after for almost 30 minutes now—and being the slight gentleman he can at least be, he offers to take you home. “no, it’s fine,” you say from across the humongous kitchen with a swiffer in your hand. “my car’s parked down the street. i’m sober now, so i can drive.” “what, did you sneak out here?” mingi looks up with a questioning look. “maybe, maybe not,” you shrug and continue sweeping. “i didn’t expect the party to end that early,” he sighs and takes a nice, cold glass of water from his (take this) third samsung fridge in the house. “maybe because it’s the middle of summer and people are actually tired? the best parts of summer are when it starts and ends. in the middle, you’re kinda scraping to make plans and do something,” you say from experience. “damn facts,” he laughs and places his elbows on the side of the acrylic island as he gazes at you. you pretend not to notice, but walk farther away from the kitchen. “i’m gonna turn on some music, it’s too quiet.” “aren’t you already sick of being at your own party with the music ten times louder than it should be?” you turn around before you can maneuver away from the living space. “what? can’t hear you!” mingi had already planted his body into the silky soft couch by the fireplace as the spotify sound rang through the room. you dropped the swiffer and called it a night. whatever, his cleaning ladies would come over whenever he would need them. before you could put on your lanyard attached with your car keys, mingi called you. “yo wait.” you didn’t look back. “you never look like you’re having fun at my parties. these are so exhausting for me to try and sneak all of these when my parents are out!” mingi whines. you don’t feel like replying so you flip him off again, signaling to him that every time you get caught up in his summer parties, you always end the night feeling ticked off. “just dance a little.” you roll your eyes at him. “you’re literally one of the best dancers at school, i’ve never seen you dance normally at a party.” the compliment he sneaks in between the conversation makes the heat rise up to your cheeks a little, but somehow, you still find yourself walking back to the living room. “cause maybe,” you step harshly. “i don’t. want to.” “tuff,” he stands up and changes the song to goldlink crew. “how the hell do you want me to dance to this, this is like our chill song.” “damn you listen to my playlists?” you immediately object. “what? no- no, no. i mean like, everyone knows this song but i’m not gonna dance to it.” little did he know that you always listened to his playlists. you guys had similar music taste but you never fully admitted it to him and always said to people that you were open to all genres. in complete and terrible pitch, mingi throws himself around the countertop to face you. “she see money all around me, i look like i’m the man” you roll your eyes at how obnoxious he’s being because it feels as if the party never ended. and yet somehow, you end up cracking up at him as he continuously becomes more and more drunk as the song continues. you tiredly give into singing along. “you came out of hiding, girl don’t act like i’m your man” you point at each other as mingi uses the crushed red solo cups left on the floor and you use the beer cans accidentally thrown into the sink as mics. now you know he’s completely drunk when he decides to stand on the counter top, his 6’1 looking ass nearly touching the ceiling. you try to pull him off by tugging on his arm, but end up losing balance yourself. you almost fall back when mingi comes down in an instant and catches you before you hit your head on the fridge as crew still plays in the background. you’re in this position for what feels like forever, but what hurts more is the fact that mingi has never looked at you like this for more than 3 seconds. you’ve been nothing but an acquaintance to him, maybe even a vision. barely a friend until tonight. from the constant bickering in your friend group, to the multiple plans that both of you have flaked on for being “busy,” many of your friends thought you guys genuinely hated each other. truth is, it’s just that you’ve never had these moments like these with him. the feeling of him getting comfortable with you made you uneasy, but to him, it doesn’t feel foreign. but you thought, hey, seize the moment before the moment seizes you. and everything after that happens in a blur. you grab his wrist to pull him closer and immediately crash into him, eyes already closed. it doesn’t feel foreign at all. it’s almost as if this has already happened in a past life, a deja vu with the same feelings. mingi doesn’t believe what’s happening. the girl he’s always thought of as one of the boys is kissing him right now as if nothing else mattered. and it wasn’t just a normal kiss. it felt like the climax of a kdrama, when the main lead couple finally confesses to one another. a person in the couple is shocked and keeps their eyes open as the kiss unravels, until they finally melt. but mingi didn’t fall so easily. his eyes were indeed open, but the way your hand effortlessly grabbed and fit into his, and the way that everything that just happened in the past 5 minutes seems rehearsed is insane. you’re insane. you know that this doing this would immediately fuck up any kind of friendship or relationship you guys had going on, but you knew that this was the only way to have mingi remember you that summer once and for all. you pull away from the kiss and can barely look him in the eye. he’s looking at you even deeper now, almost as if they’re screaming at you “what the hell just happened.” you brush off his wrist and remind yourself where you’re supposed to be going. fuck, it was probably already midnight. “i.. i. i’m going now,” you shape your left hand like the figure of a prospector’s hand pointing towards a river full of gold. “u-uh. yeah.” “going.” you put on your sneakers and throw around your keys, feeling more conscious than ever now. “b-bye,” you wave and bow to mingi besides the fact that him and you only have a small age difference. “yyeah. bye.” he waves with no emotion. and the first thing mingi does when you close the front door is touch his lips with his fingers to feel that same weird, burning feeling. and though he doesn’t put his hands up against his chest, he can hear his heartbeat beating so loudly and fast in his ears. and the first world that he can spew is: “fuck.” — “you’re off.” “off? who’s off?” mingi smiles at his childhood friend, hongjoong. out of the entire friend group, hongjoong had been the one who had matured greatly and could easily tell whenever his hyungs didn’t feel like themselves. their crazy group has been through a lot, and hongjoong knows he’s spent his high school days well. “i don’t know man, who do YOU think?” he stuffs a french fry in his mouth as mingi, hongjoong, yunho, and wooyoung huddle around a carls jr. table after a summer class lecture. yunho, being the scholar he is, recommended all of his friends to take the early summer classes since they had more space and it generally felt better. but everyone knew he used that as an excuse to sleep in for the rest of the day until he would get wasted at mingi’s house again. “you’re not saying much,” wooyoung shakes his head. “yeah... cause i’m hungry, i don’t know. today’s lecture was boring,” you try to change the topic. “this is the first lecture this summer that you didn’t manage to fall asleep in the first five minutes of. something on your mind, man?” yunho noticed. “no. you guys are so dramatic!” “and this is how he changes the subject. go ahead mingi, tell them you’re having another party tonight for pete’s sake,” hongjoong remarks. “i’m not having a party tonight.” “WHAT?” all the guys go googly-eyed towards mingi. “wh.. why? my dad is coming home tonight,” mingi insists. “you said BOTH your parents were gonna be out all week. yeah, something’s definitely up,” wooyoung immediately directs his attention to his phone to look up nearby cafes because he couldn’t stand eating this cheap fast food anymore. “you stopped texting me at like 1. AND you were drunk, so how did you knock out so easily? you weren’t even on league...” yunho tries to recall all the little details he knew from last night. “i don’t know. it’s kinda foggy but after the party, i remember drinking a little more and then knocking out on my bed.” “that’s... that’s never happened. ever,” wooyoung almost laughs at the statement. silence fills up space on the fast food joint’s table until hongjoong looks up from his phone after scrolling a good amount on instagram. “oh shit. did you...?” “did i...?” yunho catches onto what hongjoong is suggesting immediately. “bro. y/n.” “well like, no. kinda yes but no.” mingi sighs and knows he’s gonna immediately get grilled for this. he doesn’t worry too much, though, he knows that you have probably told at least 5 of your close friends at this point. “when we were cleaning because of that bet, i accidentally tripped, she caught me, and we kissed,” mingi said it so effortlessly, the fact that he said it with no worry in his tone scared the guys even more. “DUDE!!!!!!” chaos amongst almost-grown men in a fast food joint after your third lecture of the month feels unsettling. it feels like he’s in a mirage. ”what the hell are you gonna do now? er i don’t know, maybe cause you have someone named yerin on your dick right now?” yunho’s eyes dilated at the way he said yerin. if yerin ever knew... “apologize or something. we were both drunk, so we just gotta acknowledge that whatever happened in the past is already over.” and you’ve had your fair share of meltdowns. this time around, you haven’t left the house since the party and you still haven’t told your closest friends. and so what? you were busy with summer classes and you didn’t feel the need to hang out or text them. you distracted yourself as much as you could at home, and every time you would have go on campus, you ignored him. you knew damn well that he was there living his best life acting like the kiss probably never happened. because of her. because of the stunning, mysterious yerin. yerin, in short, could probably be the love of mingi’s life. when you first barely befriended him, you only heard and saw bits and pieces of conversation of how much he loved her and how she didn’t reciprocate that love back. and that’s got you thinking. would mingi ever tell yerin about this? it seemed like they “like” each other, but you couldn’t imagine all the tea she would be able to stir up if she ever found out mingi kissed you when first of all, she wasn’t even officially dating mingi. mingi would always hold her hand and look at her like a little puppy, but it was almost as if she was slightly embarrassed by him. you’ve seen the pictures and videos they’ve had together, but it seems like there always had to be a friend there too. it had never been just the two of them. the most unsettling part of their so-called relationship is that every time a dance would come around, yerin had to confirm that they were going out as friends. even when mingi kissed her multiple times when asking her out to prom. confusing, isn’t it? so you’ve been doing well by dwelling at home and attempting to distract yourself in all ways possible and going out with family more. until he texts you. mingi: hey mingi: you free rn? we should talk y/n: uh why mingi: typing... mingi: wdym why mingi: you good mingi: i haven’t seen you at class for a while y/n: yeah y/n: mingi just get straight to the point and don’t waste my time “yikes, she’s fierce. this the same y/n who was the big nerd in first year?” yunho sat next to mingi as he sent these texts as he was the one who convinced him to send them. mingi: have you told anyone about ... y/n: no y/n: i’m being fr mingi cringed before he could finish his thought. “dude, why do i have to say this!” mingi groans as his head falls back on his sofa. “because your ass won’t stop thinking about it. so it’s better if she just lets go of everything right now, and it’ll be good on both of your sides. don’t you have a date with yerin tonight?” yunho asks. “no, she cancelled. she keeps cancelling but she still nods and says hi to me on campus,” mingi wonders. mingi: why did you mingi: er do it y/n: typing... y/n: cause i was drunk headass y/n: i have pretty vague memory past that party but i do remember having to stay longer at your house y/n: i knocked out p badly.. i think i slept in my clothes you held your knees so tightly in bed and bit your fingernails after making up that lame excuse. you were completely sober when that happened, so you’re just gonna act like you knew nothing. y/n: we didn’t...? mingi: oh god nonono “DUDE WHY ARE YOU AVOIDING IT!” yunho groans louder. “because she genuinely doesn’t remember! if she doesn’t remember, it never happened,” mingi justifies his awkward texting. “or maybe, she’s just saying that because she doesn’t wanna get into the talk about yerin. or worse, get this. her feelings for you.” mingi is on the verge of screaming and losing his mind. “since when has she liked me, jesus christ!” “ooo...........” yunho whistles and turns his eyes into the other direction. it was his way of showing through actions to mingi “you absolute complete moron.” mingi: so you good then? mingi: you’re not sick or anything from my party right? y/n: nope y/n: nice talk mingi: uh yeah mingi: nice and that was the last message. “god, that was so exhausting,” you fall back onto your bed before you can scream even louder into your pillow. “dude, you’re fucked,” yunho smirks. “but hey, no date tonight? looks like we’re going to wooyoung’s pad tonight.” he stands up and pulls mingi up from the sofa. “wooyoung? what, are we watching movies tonight?” “no, party tonight. have you completely lost your sense of time?” “oh,” mingi voluntarily nods. he kind of forgot wooyoung still held parties during the summer, but he was more focused at the fact that it’s almost been a week since the kiss. and going to this party became one of the worst decisions if not his life, then this summer. “truth or dare, mingi!” hongjoong, slightly tipsy, shouts amongst the crowd in the outside pool area. “aight, truth,” he raises his cup towards hongjoong. “do you think yerin really fucks with you in that kind of way?” hongjoong laughs and his friends around him echo that same laugh. mingi knows hongjoong wouldn’t pull those type of questions in front of his friends, but it geniunely made him think a little bit. yerin cancelled almost every date this summer, and many of them are without excuses. mingi, being the gentleman he is, lets her and doesn’t ask why. but now, it’s reaching july, and the last time mingi talked to her one-on-one was at an awkward encounter at hongjoong’s place with all of her girl friends. “i mean, yeah, why wouldn’t she?” mingi shrugs and smiles with the side of his mouth. and that question lingered until later that night. mingi has been childhood friends with wooyoung. though they weren’t the closest of the bunch, their families were friends and they always ended up going on vacations together. it wasn’t until high school when wooyoung finally moved to mingi’s school and he immediately fit into his friend group as if he was the missing puzzle piece. he was sure the crowd-pleaser, but mingi knew he was an ambivert, and enjoyed a lot of his time alone, reading a book too. maybe that was why mingi thought he was so eccentric back when they were kids. mingi was exhausted, but it was merely eleven. maybe thursday wasn’t his best party day? mingi: yo woo i’m coming up to your room mingi: i’m gonna play smash on your switch ok he ran upstairs and made a beeline to wooyoung’s room, clearly identified with a poster of the smiths taped up on the front of the white door. he rattled the doorknob and realized it was locked. “silly wooyoung,” mingi knew the trick since they were little. he shook the knob three times and then turned the knob counterclockwise completely until he heard some sort of cracking noise. what he didn’t expect to hear was a moan coming from inside the room. and he doesn’t wanna believe what he sees when he opens the door. “m-mingi.” wooyoung looks up from the bed with disgruntled hair. and there lays yerin, literally fucking him on the bed mingi and wooyoung grew up on. “what the fuck.” “it’s not what it looks like.” “yeah, i’m pretty damn sure it’s not what it looks like when both of you look like you’ve been fucking each other for the past hour.” yerin and wooyoung look at each other after realizing that he’s right. “min-“ wooyoung calls him louder this time. “fuck off.” mingi storms out of the house and goes out the back way so no one can see him leave. he’s always gone this way when he and wooyoung would go on late night skating trips back in middle school, but never in his life would he expect yerin and him together in that situation. angrily, he holds his driving wheel even harder with his fists hardening with each turn. before he gets home, he decides to drive around town, maybe grab a cup of boba before he heads home. anything to distract himself. he heads to the asian strip mall a couple miles away from his neighborhood and parks upfront to the boba shop. and there, he sees you. he doesn’t know whether or not he should be surprised, but it was extremely late and he wanted to ask why you were working this late during the summer. you notice him. and you notice how much longer his face had become since the last time you saw him. something must have happened. you knew that he didn’t even like boba that much! why was he here? “oh, hi mingi,” you gather the last ounce of respect you have for him and wave to him as if everything’s splendid. “hey y/n. could i just, uh, get a wintermelon milk tea. with boba.” “y-yeah. what’s good man? you never come here,” you refuse to make eye contact with him. “yeah uh. rough night. why do you work here?” “summer job. late-night shifts pay more so i thought, hey, why not?” you smile. he hated the fact that you smiled like nothing was wrong all the time. except all the times you’ve smiled like that, there was always something wrong. “can... c-can we talk? are you free?” mingi hands you his money. “oh! uh.. yeah, we can. i can’t take breaks during night shifts but whatever. there’s like 2 dudes in the back, we’ll be fine,” you grin. he never noticed how free-spirited you were until now, and it kinda makes sense from the way that you hated parties but you would much rather be down for cliff diving or late night drives to the city. “so uh, what’s good?” you try to make the atmosphere not awkward. especially the fact that you were still in your boba shop uniform and your hair was completely down, a violation if your boss ever caught you. “uh... god how do i even say this.” “no, take your time,” you smile. you were incredibly nervous. there’s no doubt he was gonna talk about the kiss again. why else would he look so down? “i kinda uh. caught wooyoung and yerin fucking in his bedroom during his party tonight.” fuck. “oh, shit...” “god, this doesn’t even feel right, i feel sick.” “how’d you even end up there?” “i texted wooyoung that i was gonna go play smash in his room during the party.” “and instead, you ending up seeing him literally smashing your girlfriend.” “oh my god, if you put it that way,” mingi wanted to scream. you were laughing so hard and he was wondering how you could take situations like these so not seriously. “yeah uh... i don’t even know what to say about this. my childhood friend and the girl i was in love with... literally hooking up.” “was?” “i hate to say this, but i think i’m falling out of love with yerin.” “that’s crazy. it can’t just be because of this,” and you’re hoping he still forgot the kiss. “yeah, you’re right. she’s been canceling every date, literally acting all embarrassed whenever i come hang out with her and her friends, and she just doesn’t feel the same.” “as in?” you hope that they hadn’t hooked up before. you knew mingi had strict parents from whenever you came over and did projects with him, and it probably took his parents a while to adjust to the fact that he was dating her in the first place. “i think i was just so over my head back then and i kept thinking that she was the one even though she didn’t do anything to me. hasn’t mina already told you this?” he seemed slightly annoyed that he has to say this to you, but you were more. “mina doesn’t have to tell me everything. i can get to know a person however way i want them to. but i guess we’re doing this in a boba shop,” you laugh it off. mingi liked that about you. you didn’t need anyone to tell you what to do and you gave zero fucks. “hey, come with me,” you guide your hands to the fire exit. “what?” “don’t ask. just come.“ you ran through the fire exit door (which surprisingly didn’t beep this time) and ran up the stairs, causing mingi to run up against you at the same pace. “and welcome to my secret haven.” it was the roof of the three-story strip mall and you could nearly see the entire city from here. “god whatever, i’m over this,” you take off your brown visor and apron with the boba shop’s logos on it and threw it into the direction of your backpack, which was already up on the roof. he somehow found it 10 times more attractive when you fixed your hair and laughed over your stupid boba shop uniform. “i go up here almost every night when i get breaks to myself, and i don’t really talk to myself, but no one can hear you up here. so i SHOUT LIKE THIS!” mingi’s startled and you laugh even harder. “WHY LIKE THIS?” “BECAUSE I CAN TELL PEOPLE TO FUCK OFF AND THEY WON’T KNOW!” then mingi starts cracking up and you see that classic eye smile. if only he knew how hard your heart was beating. she was living her kdrama cliche right now. the dude that she’s given up on is suddenly giving interest to her and it feels so out of place. “whenever i got fed up at home with my parents, i would go to work then come up here. i would just scream these long strings of curse words until i got exhausted.” “it’s really pretty up here though,” he looks around the entire rooftop, then back to you. “yeah... a lot of my emotions were just spilled out here and i’m glad they did.” “what about the night i kissed you?” and there it was. “the night i- what?” “don’t lie to me, y/n. i know you weren’t drunk.” mingi didn’t look at you. it was silent for a moment. “i lied because i was so fed up over the fact that i probably made you so uncomfortable...” your voice faded into the night air. “why?” “because you were literally dating the love of your life, what the hell was i supposed to say to justify an entire kiss?” mingi almost laughs. “can’t wait to hear what yerin has to say about her and wooyoung hooking up. she would fuck anything with a pulse except me.” “listen, i’m sorry if i kind of left you hanging. we don’t even talk much, so it felt so out of place after that.” “we used to. so let’s make that change,” mingi suggested. “dude, if you want her to feel ok after what just happened, treat her well. take her to the mall or something and just make her feel like a good friend. she’s not your good old mina, but she’s done something that i know it would take a long time for her to forget. make her forget,” yunho tells mingi after he counsels him about the kiss. “what?” “we should just... talk more. maybe it wouldn’t have felt so weird and out of place if we actually talked. i’m sorry if i made you uncomfortable before,” mingi adds on to his long overdue apology. “no.. no it’s fine. don’t apologize,” you wave him off. “so we’re starting fresh? something like that?” “starting fresh.” you reach your hand out to signal him to shake hands with you, and he gives you a big, genuine smile. — two weeks later “oh my god, you’re joking.” “i’m not, look at this order!” a postmates order pops up on the kitchen ipad as you come running in. 20 whole orders of boba that have to be done by 8 pm. “an entire fucking fraternity just pulled up,” mingi laughs. “how are we gonna finish this?” you read over the entire order just to completely sure that there are twenty, two zero, orders of boba. “leave the newbies to do it and we run back up?” mingi smirks. you hate him. “mingi, you’re literally a newbie.” he shrugs and laughs as he rings up his last order of the night, that is, if he doesn’t take care of that fraternity order. “i’m just saying...” mingi opens up one of the cabinets atop the kitchen exit with his backpack and his nintendo switch peeking out of it. you grunt, but you seriously want to leave too. “hey newbies?” two sophomores in high school turn around from behind the tea jugs. “do you mind if we take our break for a little bit? it’s been a while. one of you take the cashier and one of you take care of the online orders. is that alright?” “yes miss!” you snicker at the “miss”. “no need for formalities. just call me y/n,” you grin and flip your hair back unintentionally as you take off your uniform visor. so fucking flawless. mingi thought to himself as he stared at you from the door. why were you so good at everything? and why were you so incredibly nice to everyone? except him, of course. it had been a week since mingi had called it off with yerin. it wasn’t really official, it was more like a breakup text that wasn’t really a breakup. it was essentially yunho and hongjoong giving emotional support to mingi as he wrote lame replies to explain to yerin that he wasn’t in love with her. it took a lot of manpower, but the job was done. what job wasn’t done was you working at your part time job at the boba shop. and what you didn’t expect was a day after being exposed by mingi about the kiss, the man himself walking in with a resume in his hand once he was accepted, he wanted to have as many shifts with you as possible even though you hadn’t been working there for long so you weren’t considered a senior. you also wondered why he wanted to have a summer job, out of all things, to spend one of his last summers as a teenager. “imagine this. huge letters on a newspaper. local asian fuckboy works at boba shop instead of having parties at his parents’ rich place because quote, he’s tired of it,” you sit back on the beach chairs you two set up on the roof a couple weeks ago. “i am! why don’t you believe me?” “you’re not me, mingi. you’re party animal mingi, the cool basketball player every girl looks up to both figuratively and literally because you’re a living tree.” “i mean... so?? it’s nice to have a break since i’m done with my exams and i can get extra money. and free boba, of course,” he still felt kind of flattered after you said every girl looked up to him. it was a stretch. “imagine needing extra money when your parents already have that much money...” you sighed. he threw a piece of popcorn chicken at you. “shh. watch the movie.” you guys decided on “the interview” tonight. every night shift, you guys alternate on choosing movies on netflix to watch on your laptop up on the roof. things have changed for the better or worse. it’s only been a couple of weeks into summer now, and your life has been surrounded by mingi. same goes for mingi. all his parties have been cut down to night shifts with you, shopping for his dog and his own wardrobe with his personal stylist (you), and even driving to summer classes with you. just when you thought you could finally get rid of him, he becomes your honorary annoying best friend. though yunho and hongjoong were rooting him on, they didn’t expect him to be so involved in it. when he forcibly apologized to wooyoung and he did the same, things with yerin were still uncomfortable. to make things easier, mingi announced to everyone that he would never date her ever again. and although wooyoung doesn’t want to lose mingi’s trust, he knows. mingi knows that they’ve been secretly going on dates ever since the apology and not much as changed. so much for a girl and his childhood best friend, huh? mingi meanders over to check his phone and sees that some of his group chats have blown up. “yo, fourth of july is tomorrow. i think wooyoung wants a party,” mingi nudges. “sure. i mean, not at his house. ptsd for you,” and then mingi remembers the situation all over again. “god, yeah. my place then?” “sure. haven’t been there in a while,” you laugh. the shift ends in less than 30 minutes and the two of you have missed nearly the entire shift. you take the back entrance and wave him goodbye as he’s assigned to lock up for the night. you drive back to your house to see your older brother already asleep, the rest of your parents out of the house to visit family up in the city. the lame excuse of “college preparations” was how you escaped a week-long trip upstate to do nothing but babysit your cousins. mina 🤢 is calling... you take a beeline to the almost entirely dark living room and fall on the couch to pick up your friend’s call. mina? Y/N WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN ? I’VE BEEN CALLING YOU ALL NIGHT what? girl i- you open up your phone app during the call to see 8 missed calls from the devil herself, mina. oh shiiit. sorry dude, i was at work. work? this late? i thought the shop closed at 10. nope. closes at 12, mingi locked up for me so i’m home a little earlier. well. mina seemed fazed by you and mingi and more concerned about her “issues.” anyways, i was TRYING to call you because i had a little emergency. you worried a little bit since she had been in quite a serious of a relationship with her boyfriend. oh, what’s wrong? well nothing’s wrong. actually, i know this is something you’ve wanted to do for a while since we’ve made our freshman bucket lists. remember that? you laugh softly into the phone and nod, forgetting that mina can’t see you. anyways, my boyfriend wanted to take me down on the coast highway after the 4th of july party that wooyoung? i think, is holding. you know him right? man, do you. we wanted to watch the sunrise together and bring a couple of friends. mina, that sounds fun. you’re right it’s been on my bucket list for a while. great! oh, not great. right. your ass took 70 years to reply so my boyfriend already left town and his sister doesn’t want to take us. no hard feelings of course, but it’s kinda awkward when this was meant to be a romantic thing and with you of course. oh. mina! why’d you tell me?? i don’t know, maybe we should keep this on a tab. don’t forget about it, and you should definitely have someone to go with next time besides me, if you know what i mean. i don’t, mina. i wanna go with you! these were my teenage plans with you back then. sis, you might wanna check your notes. you got up and turned on the kitchen lights — not the living room lights because they were way too bright and you were planning to knock out on the couch immediately after this call — to open up your notes and read better. you scrolled through the long checklist that had been updated constantly throughout your high school years, to find “drive up the highway and watch the sunrise with my s/o <3” in bright orange text, somewhere embedded in the even longer bucket list. oh god. how do you even remember me writing this? you’ve been wanting this ever since you’ve been wanting a solid relationship with someone. and when you did have a boyfriend, this never worked out so... mina! sorry sorry! i’m just saying... keep it in mind. mina, i’d still love to take you tomorrow after the party because yes i’m dying to see this sunrise but. you have someone, i don’t. we’ll save this one for next summer, ok? before you can let mina finish, you say goodnight. wait, y/n! you cut her off and turn off your phone. sweet dreams, you whisper to yourself as you delve deeper into your couch. then the annoying marimba ringtone of your generic iphone rings once again. mina- mingee the frog is calling... mingi? yo, can you take the shop keys for tonight? i feel like i’m gonna misplace this with the party being tomorrow. oh, oh yeah, sure. you straighten yourself up and (finally) turn on the living room lights. you can come over now, i’ll be at the door. actually, i’m already in front. WHAT? you run to your front door to see mingi in (not but maybe) your favorite black hoodie and keys in his right hand in front of. no. you unlock the door and jog out in the freezing midnight mist. “SONG MINGI! the ROVER?” “what’d you think, huh? thought it would be good revenge against wooyoung. gotta take her for a ride one of these days before i leave,” he laughs. mingi spins the lanyard of keys in his fist in resemblance to a teenage girl who just got her license and you immediately recognize that he’s only carrying wooyoung’s lanyard and not the lanyard with the shop keys. “where are the shop keys?” you tilt your head. “gave them to the sophomore who took care of the frat orders. now, the range rover. isn’t she a beaut,” he steps away from the huge car and shows it off like a golden trophy. you facepalm and know that he only brought you out of your house to show you that he had balls to steal from his own (also rich) cousin. “ok and... what about it? it’s cold mingi, go home,” you yawned and waved him off even though you weren’t that tired. you exaggerated because you just wanted to be in the safety and comfort of your own home. “come with me.” “what?” you turned around. “come with me. i’m still super awake because i put like, 4 shots of monster in that last cup of boba i had,” mingi points to the empty boba cup in the white range rover’s cupholders. “mingi, very funny. now drive yourself back to wooyoung’s house before he beats your ass and go to sleep. you have a party to plan tomorrow, don’t you?” “i don’t plan parties, babe, i just let them happen,” your heart skips over the slight pet name mention. you don’t wanna reply and hope your speed walk back to your door will make him go away. “oh and... your bluetooth is still connected to wooyoung’s car from last time he gave you a ride. not sure when.” “oh, sorry. disconnect me, would you? good night, mingi,” you bow and wrap your hands around the silver knob of your door. “i might have heard you and mina talking.” you stop. “and... i might have heard about you wanting to watch the sunrise. with someone. preferably someone who could drive you up there who isn’t mina or her boyfriend.” you want to smile, but also kind of scared that he heard everything you said to mina. you still don’t look back at mingi. “so here i am. making an excuse to be at your house at 1 am to drive you to the beach until sunrise using wooyoung’s car, in which i’m gonna get killed for anyways.” “mingi, just go home.” your sudden sternness as you look into his eyes comes out of nowhere, maybe out of anger. held back feelings. it comes off as rude. “see you at the party tomorrow,” you finally step into the house with the door unlocked. “i’ll let you listen to my playlists because i know you secretly like them. i’ll let you wear my hoodie. i’ll let you lie down next to me watching the stars because i don’t wanna be anywhere else when i’m near you.” you close the door. “song mingi, is this how you asked out yerin? am i just your emotional fill-in for yerin?” the way you said his full name shocked him. you’ve called him everything for the past month except his full name. but everything he just said about you made your heart race faster than it did in years. the atmosphere was stiff despite the sudden one-sided confession. “i-“ “i’m kidding with you, jesus christ, kid. you should have seen the look on your face. and thank you, i’ll be taking your hoodie, it’s getting cold,” you lock the door behind you and run up to mingi. mingi’s left breathless. y/n is nothing but trouble for him. you run into the shotgun seat and grabs the black screen printed hoodie on the seat. it’s from a j cole concert he went a couple years back and it still smells like good old mingi. you don’t want to say it, but you want to keep it forever. you also don’t wanna say much in general, because mingi may or may have not just confessed to you. “sunrise is at 5 am. you ready?” he jumps into the driver's seat with nothing but a smile on his face as he sees you already in his hoodie. “born ready.” he starts the car and backs up from your driveaway, and puts his arm on the back of your head cushion to see behind him. “oh-“ and your horny ass thought he was about to pull you in for a kiss because of the vicinity his body was to you. “what?” he turns around, knowing exactly what he just did and smirks at your flustered face. “nothing. just hope my sister doesn’t kick me out for coming back at home at literally 7 am.” “don’t worry, just sleep over at my house after and say you accidentally knocked out after work,” he shrugs as he leaves your neighborhood and enters the junction into the larger highway towards the city. “i feel like she already heard me coming home...” “so? i’m sure she wouldn’t mind you coming home from a guy as good looking as me,” you wanted to throw up but still had the urge to keep looking at the way he drove the range rover like a master. this was only his second time driving it, but you didn’t need to know. you spent the rest of the half hour drive listening to his night playlists (undoubtedly some of the best songs that you both know and like) and stop by a 7/11 and a couple of gas stations for some snacks and soda to take to the beach. by the time you two reach the coastal highway, it’s almost 3 am (oddly) and the highways are almost completely empty. when mingi sees you rapping along and holding his hoodie tighter, he wants to say something but he can’t. it’s the wrong timing. he’ll have to wait just a little, but he hopes you still want to return the half-lived confession. “couple more hours. what are we gonna do?” mingi asks over the music. “i don’t know. talk. walk around the coastline. push you into the water.” “if you do, i’m gonna make sure you do bathroom duty next shift,” mingi threatens with zero intention because he knows he really wouldn’t. the kindness he felt towards you had also occurred out of nowhere and it felt way too foreign. “i’ve never done this before so... enlighten me, lover boy.” “who said i’ve done this? only i would take your lanky ass to the beach at 3 am because, wait-“ he rolls down the windows and turns down the music. “smell the air.” you both take deep breaths in of the cold, salty air and grin. you’re so grateful to be alive right now. mingi turns and stops by the side of the cove to drive down to an empty parking lot. the beach is closed so mingi will manage to park in front of the huge beach mansions on the side of the streets. rich people won’t care about another rich person trying to park in front of their house now, will they? it’s almost 4 and it’s beyond freezing now. as you both exit the rover, mingi grabs his keys but notices you slowly walking out of the car without saying anything. “still cold?” “... uh... just a little bit,” you say slowly, hoping that mingi won’t even be able to comprehend you. he walks to the back of the car and opens the trunk with a button on his keys. there inside the trunk is a stack of blankets, food from the convenience stores, and his backpack. on top of the blanket stack is your favorite blanket that you left on the boba shop roof since it was your favorite. “song mingi. have you been planning this ahead of time?” you laugh at the sight. he rolls his eyes cutely and shrugs while mouthing i dunno. you walked down the side of the street while still looking at him. he could feel your gaze as you walk down towards the beach, but at this point, both of you were too nervous to say anything. you find a spot mid-way to the coast and the fencing off the cliff of the beach and set down all your stuff. it was nearing 5 am and you noticed the sky getting lighter. you were also extremely exhausted, but you let it pass. as you yawned and put down all the blankets, your first move was to lay down and close your eyes. “hey don’t sleep yet!” mingi threw a pillow at your head. “i’m tired as fuck, leave me alone,” you groaned as you pulled his hoodie tighter and turned your body to the side. mingi sat down and made the area around you comfier, then pulled out another blanket to put around himself. he checked his phone for the time, then looked towards the horizon. “ya... ya! it’s almost sunrise!” you were still facing the other way. “oh my god...” he said in the worst accent possible as he tried pushing you off the blanket. “y/n!” at this point, you knew you were just teasing him. but instead, he pulled your arm closest to him, hoisting you up, but all too fast that your entire body was within 1 cm of his, too close for comfort. “u-uh, i,” you said as his face was a little too close to yours, all while you attempted to look away at the sun that was beginning to rise up the horizon. mingi knew it was now or never. and he wasn’t gonna let you have the chance of initiating it again. “y/n.” you looked back at him dumbfoundedly. he had been staring at you this entire time, right until he pulled the side of your face closer and crashed. his lips meeting yours wasn’t foreign at all. despite the spontaneity of the last instance, both of you still remembered the taste of it. and both of you secretly wanted it again, so badly. you were still shocked at how fast he managed to do that, but you regathered your senses and wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer. shocked at the movement, mingi pulled away from the kiss and looked at you. “wait wait wait, hold on. do you even..?” your arms still hung around his neck as you gazed at him. “yes. a lot. for a long time. having to act like i didn’t care about you for the longest time was so exhausting. glad we’re on the same page now,” you winked and smiled. “oh my god,” he gazed at you with all the euphoria in his chest. how were you so perfect? and how was he so oblivious to how perfect you were for him this entire time? this time, he couldn’t hold back. he pulled you in even closer by holding your hoodie ties and deepened the kiss from last time. you closed your eyes immediately, and held one of your hands on his neck. his chest was bursting and although he couldn’t feel it, both of your hearts were beating erratically. you still couldn’t believe that the song mingi, the boy who you crushed on from the opposite side of your math class-then-turned somewhat enemies, is the reason for your happiness right now. mingi grabbed your hand and tightened it as he felt the cold within your palm. he pulled away again, but just to look at you and smile. he then turned towards the sunrise that had been going on the entirety of the confession, and the reflection of the warm hues that had been painted on of you. you were so beautiful in this light, and you never wanted this moment to end. “so...” “so...” “wanna head back to my place and sleep over?” and you knew that that meant an entirely new definition of going back to his place now that you both have basically spilled your feelings to each other. “hmm... maybe.” you wanted to keep him guessing, just for fun. he stood up and picked up his blanket. “alright then, i’m leaving,” he started turning away. “okok, i’m joking, take a joke,” you giggled and stood up. you ran over and tippie toed so that your arms could reach around his neck. you placed a kiss on his cheek and smiled even more brightly than before. he smiled back. he was so lucky to have you, and you wanted to know every single part of him as you fall deeper and deeper into him.

—

a/n: hi ! my name’s chae and this is my first writing published on tumblr. because this is my first work, please excuse any grammatical mistakes and writing errors!! ive been reading fics and au’s for a while on tumblr for a number of kpop groups, but i hope that i can debut some of my blurbs on here in the future.

please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, it’s gonna help me a lot in the long run : ,,)

also my requests are open!! i don’t have any restrictions on what prompts/pairings/groups are allowed right now, but i mainly write reader x, and my ult groups are ateez, skz, and x1/produce male trainees (see header).

#mingi #song mingi #mingi ateez #mingi x reader #mingi au #mingi fanfic #mingi imagine #mingi fluff #ateez #ateez imagine #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #fluff #kpop imagine #kpop au #blurbs #ateez blurb

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thewitcherssongbird · 4 years

Text

Heartbeat

Chapter 4

So. We're here. This is that chapter. You know the one I'm talking about, the one we've all been excited about. Yeah we're there. Enjoyyyy

***

Jaskier wakes up warm. His pillow feels… hard. He opens his eyes to a face full of Geralt. Jaskier’s cheek is pressed to Geralt’s naked chest, rising and falling with the Witcher’s breaths. Geralt is asleep, one arm over Jaskier who has been his chest as a pillow.

Jaskier tries to shake off the unlikely dream of waking up sleep-warm next to Geralt who is still asleep. He doesn’t wake up though, the dream doesn’t fade, and the Geralt in the bed stays where he is.

Suddenly he remembers rather lovely and vivid dream of Geralt’s tongue in his mouth. And then a view blurry ones that are no doubt the cause of his morning wood. Jaskier moves and feels Geralt’s own morning wood pressing insistently to his thigh and suddenly he remembers that there was never any vivid dream at all.

He tries to sit up, staring open mouthed at Geralt who resorts to tug Jaskier closer by the waist even in his subconscious state.

The world stops, his thoughts are non-existent, gone. The world starts again and Jaskier does the only thing he can think of doing and smacks Geralt on the chest. Geralt is up immediately, a hand on Jaskier’s throat but the young man is having none of that and removes it, annoyed, never mind rude awakenings he wants to know what happened last night. Geralt relaxes, eyelids drooping closed as he groans in annoyance and settles back into the pillows and curls up on his side against the chill.

Jaskier wants to demand he wake up and explain himself but he can’t quite bring himself to break the quiet.

Jaskier has never seen Geralt waking up before. Geralt is bathed in morning sun, it seeps into his skin and makes him glow. He has one arm under the pillow and the other still in Jaskier’s lap where it had fallen when Jaskier sat up, he’s nestled into the blanket like a cat. His hair is a mess, wayward strands falling over his face and his shoulders. His lashes fan over his cheeks and he looks almost delicate in the space between sleep and awareness. Even though he’d nearly choked Jaskier a minute ago, he looks vulnerable.

Oh. This is why Geralt never sleeps.

Jaskier doesn’t try again, having changed his mind he lies down again and turns his head. Golden eyes are open, blinking blearily at him. Beautiful is all Jaskier thinks, he’s sure he’s staring. Jaskier’s brain is evidently not awake yet, on instinct, he cups Geralt’s jaw and pulls him into a kiss.

Jaskier kisses the half-conscious Witcher morning breath and all. Geralt only responds in kissing him back, not even trying to take the lead. Definitely still half asleep.

“Not a dream then,” he concludes.

“No I don’t think so.” Geralt’s morning voice is raspier than usual, barely more than a whisper. His eyelids still look heavy.

“You like me,” Geralt says dumbly, smiling a little idiotically. Jaskier likes Geralt when he’s sleepy.

“No Geralt I just asked you to fuck me because that’s what friends do,” Jaskier says but the sarcasm loses its bite through his smile.

“No, you like me,” Geralt says again, sleep stupid smile fading to leave only confusion. He sits up, braced on his elbows. “You like me?”

Gods, this man.

“Yes, gods Geralt.” Jaskier sighs and climbs onto Geralt’s lap and golden Witcher eyes look up at him through his lashes. He speaks before he loses his nerve. “I thought it was obvious, what with all the staring and the you know, breath catching and heart… pounding going on.” Jaskier paws at Geralt’s naked chest for lack of anything better to do with his hands. “Thought you knew… Or maybe you’d realize it any day and then you’d just leave me. But apparently you’re as dense as a rock.” Geralt’s brow furrows in confusion as his palms absently come to rest on Jaskier’s thighs. Jaskier thinks he squeaks.

“Where’d your shirt go?” Jaskier adds to his ramble, hyper-aware of Geralt’s palms now.

“It bothered you so I took it off,” Geralt says, still looking like he was trying to make sense of an odd dream. Jaskier touches a hand to his cheek, a phantom memory of the scratchy shirt lingers under his fingertips.

“You want me?” he whispers and Jaskier rolls his eyes, Geralt isn’t laughing at him, Geralt is in fucking shock. Had he really never thought it was possible. “Why the hell?” He says as if the very idea is outrageous. “I never thought- “

“Yes, gods Geralt. I like you and I want you. Facts. I’m almost concerned. Did you hit your head?” He stole Geralt’s line.

“But I need to know why,” he insists and Jaskier sighs and shrugs helplessly.

“I don’t know Geralt,” he whines childishly, he stares at his hands fidgeting on Geralt’s abdomen. ”Maybe I just liked the way you let me do things and fret over you and take care of you, and maybe I like that you take care about me. Maybe I like the way you pretend you don’t fucking give a shit even though you really do. Maybe I like the way you look at me when I talk and maybe I like it when you tell me to shut up. Maybe I like the way you lean your elbow on my shoulder like I’m your personal armrest. Maybe I like that hum that you do all the time. Maybe I like your voice and your hair and your stupid muscles and your face and your eyes and your hands. Oh god your hands. Maybe I like the way you look when you drink that Witcher potion and the way you sound when you growl like that. Maybe I just like you for a lot of reasons?”

“Maybe?” Geralt asks and it’s only now that Jaskier notices the hand on his thigh.

“No,” he whispers so quiet only a witcher could hear, “fuck ‘maybe’.” Geralt’s hand moves infinitesimally higher, closer and his breath catches. Geralt touches a finger to his throat, feeling the breath caught there. Jaskier swallows, adam’s-apple bobbing against his sword calloused palm. “I know what that means now.”

“It means I think you’re beautiful,” he blurts, Geralt tears his gaze from the hand he rests on Jaskier’s thigh and looks him in the eyes. “You’ve never been called that before?”

“Once or twice… It was never true.” Jaskier’s heart twists for Geralt. He pictures a cruel scientist gazing into his cat eyes and calling them “beautiful” in morbid fascination.

“It’s true,” he says firmly, no ambiguity, but he can see the pain in Geralt’s eyes and changes the subject.

“You know what this means.” He covers Geralt’s palm with his own. “Do you know what this means?” He guides the hand down his throat, his chest, down until Geralt’s palm is resting just above the arousal in his trousers. He lets Geralt decide what to do with what he’s been offered.

“Hmm, what does it mean?” Geralt asks, voice low. He brushes his knucked over the tent in Jaskier’s trousers and he moves his hand to the very top of Jaskier’s thigh. His thumb starts stroking, so close to Jaskier’s cock and yet so far away. “It means keep your promise or I’ll keep mine. Fuck me or I’ll murder you.”

“Well we can’t have that. The fun has just started.” He bares his teeth in a roguish grin and places his palm on Jaskier’s desperate bulge. The bard groans, moving to support himself with an elbow above Geralt. The witcher palms his cock and Jaskier whines and bites his lip, hand fisting on Geralt’s abdomen.

Geralt cups Jaskier’s jaw, lifting it to make Jaskier look at him. He pulls Jaskier’s lip from his teeth with a thumb and Jaskier lets out a broken sigh, panting.

“This needs to come off,” Geralt says, removing his hand from Jaskier’s erection to tug at his shirt. Jaskier briefly mourns the loss of Geralt’s touch where he wants it but he’s never removed his shirt faster. Geralt flips them, straddling Jaskier. He skims his fingers under Jaskier’s waistband in a way that has him squirming, before he finally plunges his tongue into the wet heat of Jaskier’s mouth. Tonguing at teeth and licking at soft lips, he unlaces Jaskier’s trousers.

In an effort of teamwork, they manage to lose all their clothes until they’re skin to skin, sweat slicking the slide of body to body. Jaskier is squirming beneath Geralt, pent up frustration finally making itself known. Geralt’s kisses form a trail from Jaskier’s mouth, over his jaw and then his throat as Jaskier bares it to Geralt. Geralt places slides his tongue over Jaskier’s racing pulse.

“I love this,” he whispers. Jaskier is too far gone to form a reply but he doesn’t need to because Geralt continues his trail, down his chest, his stomach, he stops right over Jaskier’s cock and Jaskier has to remove the arm he’d slung over his eyes to ask Geralt what on earth he is doing but the expression on Geralt’s handsome face makes the words get stuck in his throat.

“Do you- do you really want me to?” the Witcher asks in the smallest voice Jaskier has ever heard him say anything in and it makes his heart ache for Geralt. He takes Geralt’s face in his hands and plants a kiss on his forehead. It says I love you, it says I want you and I need you and it says I trust you.

“Yes,” he whispers, “I trust you. I want you to do everything and I want to do everything for you. With you. Because I love you. You’re my best friend, and I’m in love with you,” Jaskier hopes the things he can’t say are written in his eyes. Geralt’s golden eyes are turned to suns in the morning rays, they’re are shining with something that couldn’t be described as anything other than adoration. “Never doubt that.”

It’s what Geralt needs to hear apparently because he kisses Jaskier then.

And then, not breaking eye contact, he takes Jaskier into his mouth. The sound Jaskier makes is one that he will deny making until his dying day but it encourages Geralt, who apparently, has no gag reflex at all. Fucking Witchers, Jaskier thinks. His hands fist in the sheets, knuckles going white as he shouts his pleasure to the ceiling.

“Gods fuck-“ he chokes out and grabs onto Geralt’s hair. He doesn’t seem to mind, humming in pleasure and the vibrations send waves of pleasure over his skin. He doesn’t guide him, just holds on for dear fucking life.

He thinks he has goosebumps. “Fuck- Geralt,” the words hardly make it out of his mouth as such, nearly turning to moans. No-one’s mouth has ever felt this good, Jaskier thinks he might need to tell Geralt that but right now he’s rather preoccupied focusing on not coming right down his throat.

“I can’t- Geralt I can’t hold on you need to stop right now or else-“ he rambles. Geralt does as he asks and Jaskier whines as his cock slips out of Geralt’s mouth, he’s never seen anything more obscene. Geralt’s eyes are lidded in pleasure.

“How,” he asks, “How the fuck do you do that?’ Jaskier kisses the smirk right off of Geralt’s mouth. He gets a bit carried away and slips his mouth to Geralt’s neck, kissing and licking at the smooth skin there, he finds a spot right under Geralt’s ear, when he runs his tongue over it Geralt groans deeply and grabs onto Jaskier’s thigh as if he’s lost his balance.

“One day,” he promises, “One day I’ll lie you down and find all your sensitive spots and make you squirm and then you’ll know what it feels like.” Geralt only moans at the idea. “There’s oil in my bag.”

“You carry oil around with you?” Geralt grins. Jaskier smacks him on the shoulder as Geralt fishes the bag out from underneath the bed where Jaskier had left it. “It’s for my skin,” he insists even though they both know Jaskier has never had dry skin a day in his life.

“Is it now?” Geralt teases.

“Fine.”

“What fine?”

“It wasn’t for my fucking skin, it was for when you were away and I had some time to myself,” Jaskier admits unabashedly. He doesn’t miss the interested twitch in Geralt’s cock as he stops he forgets his oil-hunt for a moment.

Jaskier takes the bag from him and fishes the oil out himself. “I thought of you,” he says, and it’s not as much an admission as it is a dare. Geralt shoves Jaskier roughly onto his back, a predatory look in his eye as he shoves the bag away and takes the oil from Jaskier.

“I smelled it,” he says, “when I came back I could always smell it.” Jaskier had never thought of that. “You had your pretty fingers inside you and you pretended it was me?” Geralt has turned the tables on Jaskier and now it’s he who is nodding dumbly, a blush surely painting his cheeks.

“I’ve missed out on so much, I can’t believe I’ve been so stupid.” He coats his fingers in oil and looks questioningly at Jaskier, letting him choose how they proceed. Jaskier pulls him closer so that they’re almost nose to nose and Jaskier begins to think he has a thing for having Geralt on top of him, which is quite convenient because Geralt seems to have a thing for having Jaskier underneath him.

“Want you like this,” he says and wraps his legs around Geralt’s waist. Geralt kisses him deeply, he’s going to have swollen lips for days. Geralt slips the first finger into him, for no reason he can name, it feels like the best thing he’s ever felt. He grips Geralt tighter as he moans.

“Tell me if it hurts,” Geralt says rather seriously.

Jaskier replies with, “This is the best feeling in the world.”

“You haven’t even gotten to the actual fucking part yet,” the witcher comments slightly amused but Jaskier can tell that he’s in roughly the same state as him.

“Oh god is that going to be even better?” Jaskier asks nonsensically.

“Well I hope so,” he says, also rather nonsensically. Jaskier mewls anyway and Geralt adds another finger.

When he starts spreading them apart, Jaskier’s back arches like his soul is trying to leave his body and move in with Geralt’s just to be that much closer to him. “Oh my fucking gods,” Jaskier babbles, “shaking his head in disbelief, “where has this been all my life? How have I gone without you?”

Geralt adds a third finger, probably just to be safe or because maybe if he didn’t Jaskier would break on his cock. When he deems Jaskier ready, he pulls his fingers out and Jaskier whines at the loss and the promise of more.

“Are you sure?” he asks again and it’s met with a litany of “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, Geralt fucking please!” Jaskier is probably going insane.

And then finally, finally Geralt is pushing in, and Jaskier is gasping, his mouth is open in a silent moan. Geralt is so gentle and it’s so slow, so beautifully slow but still it’s so much more than Jaskier had ever imagined it would be, he’s never felt fuller than he does now. He can’t tell whether it’s from his unspoken vow of celibacy since he’s realized he wanted Geralt or just because it’s Geralt. He suspects the latter.

Geralt stops when he’s fully seated in him and Jaskier trembles a little in his hold. He can’t believe that it’s finally happening. He’d never imagined he would be here one day, never imagined Geralt wouldn’t leave him or ignore him or whatever, he’d never imagined this.

Geralt’s thumb strokes over Jaskier’s cheekbone, and only when he sees the furrow of worry between Geralt’s brows does he notice the tears Geralt is wiping away. He wonders what his scent smells like, Geralt looks slightly conscerned, and yet there is a fond expression there. “I’m crying,” he states with a laugh.

“You’re crying,” Geralt repeats.

“I’m insane.”

“You’re beautiful.” Jaskier kisses him soundly.

“You can move,” he says, trying to wipe away the tears. Geralt does as he is bid and starts moving. It’s the best thing Jaskier has ever felt in his whole years, Geralt’s fingers be damned, Jaskier will worship the Witcher’s cock for the rest of his life if he can. Jaskier can only imagine the gods had made them for each other, balanced them out with each other and attached a string to them both that pulled tighter, closer every day.

All intelligent thought has left Jaskier, the fact that he remembers to breathe is a miracle in itself. The room is filled only with their voices proclaiming their pleasure to each other, a melody woven together effortlessly.

Geralt sets a rhythm that matches the pounding of his heart, he wonders briefly if it’s intentional. Geralt changes the angle and suddenly it’s deeper, so much deeper than Jaskier had thought anything could ever be. Geralt hits a spot inside him then that makes his toes curl and a scream leave his already sore throat and Geralt makes a pleased sound at the discovery, he burrows his face in the crook of Jaskier’s neck, breathing him in.

He hits the spot over and over until Jaskier can feel something building inside him, it grows like a tidal wave. “Geralt, touch me. Please,” he breathes. Geralt’s hand is already there, stroking him with a kind of soft carefulness that reminds Jaskier of handling glass. “I’m close,” he whispers.

“Come for me,” Geralt says equally softly, it’s not a command but a request.

Finally, the wave crashes, Jaskier paints Geralt’s hand and both their stomachs. He comes harder than ever before in his life. His release rolls over him in wave after wave. When Jaskier finally calms, Geralt’s hips stutter and he finds his own release deep inside Jaskier, as if he had been holding on just to see Jaskier reach his pleasure first.

They’re both breathing hard, Geralt is quivering above him with the strain of keeping the brunt of his weight off of Jaskier. He off of him and collapses onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. “Good gods,” he breathes.

“If I had known this is what it would feel like,” Jaskier says, breathing harder than Geralt, “I’d have demanded to have you the day I met you.”

***

Thank you all for reading! I’m pretty sure there’s going to be one more chapter or some kind of epilogue thing, idk. But please leave likes and comments<3

@wanderinglilgirl @saraiskindasad @karasuya @seriously--fuck--you

#the witcher #the witcher netflix #witcher netflix #geraskier #geraskier smut #geraskier fluff #geralt of rivia #geralt z rivii #geralt x jaskier #jaskier x geralt #Jaskier #heartbeat

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artificialqueens · 3 years

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Off Limits, Chapter 5 (Bitney) - Veronica, Albatross

A/N: Hey guys! This is the companion story to “No Strings Attached.” Both ships are in both stories, but generally, “No Strings Attached” is Willaska-focused and this one is Bitney-focused. (Link to all chapters in order.)

Chapter Summary: Courtney obsesses about the previous night, and finally demands some real answers from Bianca. (With a brief cameo from Shea as the Lesbian Whisperer.)

Thanks as always to our lovely beta and Executive Vice President of That’s So Aussie™️, @opalescent-cheetah. (Yes, that’s a promotion.)

***

Courtney stirred, rolling into the scent of Bianca’s shampoo on the pillow, eyes fluttering open. She blinked, slightly confused, before realizing that she was in the bed alone. Sitting up on her elbows, she saw Bianca at her desk, hunched over a textbook with a highlighter, black-framed glasses on her face, reddish-brown hair pulled into a messy bun. Courtney smiled slightly; as beautiful as she found Bianca when she was dolled up and looking like a million bucks, there was always something sweet and comforting about seeing her like that.

“Hi,” Courtney said, biting her lip.

“Hey.” Bianca barely glanced her way, turning a page in her textbook.

“Did you sleep okay?”

“Yup.”

Courtney cleared her throat, suddenly self-conscious, becoming more and more aware of the fact that Bianca clearly didn’t want to talk. She thought, the night before, that they’d finally made some progress. That they were finally a small step closer to becoming...whatever they were supposed to.

But now, in the harsh light of day, she wasn’t so sure. After a few more moments of awkward silence, Courtney got the hint, swinging her legs off the side of the bed and gathering up her dress, shoes, and bag.

“Um...I’ll wash your T-shirt and get it back to you-”

“Thanks.”

Courtney let out a little sigh and exited, crossing through the living room, startled by Alaska’s voice saying, “Morning,” from the sofa.

“Lasky!” Courtney exclaimed, surprised. “Did you sleep here?”

“Yeah,” came the quiet, drawn-out reply. “I didn’t want to intrude on whatever...you guys had going on.”

Eyes widening in sympathy and guilt, Courtney rushed over to the couch to apologize.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry!” she cried, flinging herself onto the couch.

“It’s okay,” Alaska assured her with a remarkably sincere smile before inquiring, “How’d you sleep? It’s so hard to imagine Bianca being all cuddly.”

Feeling her cheeks beginning to grow warm, Courtney glanced away with a soft smile as she mentioned vaguely, “She was alright.” Then thinking better of it, added in a rushed, “Nothing happened, by the way.”

“Uh huh. That’s what she said,” Alaska said with an indulgent nod, then admitted slyly, “I didn’t really believe her, though.”

Cocking her head to the side, Courtney asked, “Do you believe me? Because nothing…” she forced herself to repeat, trying not to sound bitter, “nothing happened.”

It wasn’t just the “nothing happening” that made Courtney feel frustrated. It was also how easily she’d chickened out and let Bianca off the hook the second she’d realized that she wasn’t angry. She was so relieved that things were okay between them that she’d stopped pressing her for any real answers. And this morning, it seemed like her window for any kind of honesty had slammed shut. Bianca’s walls were up once again, and maybe they always would be.

“It honestly doesn’t matter what I believe,” Alaska informed her, tucking a stray bit of hair behind her ear. She plastered on a reassuring smile as she stressed, “As long as you’re good.”

“I’m good,” Courtney affirmed just a little too loudly and quickly. “I just feel so bad that you had to crash out here. You could have had your bed. Or my bed!”

“It’s fine,” Alaska laughed. “Besides, there’s never any way of telling what kind of creature Willam’s gonna bring home from the club.”

Giggling away at the light jab, Courtney agreed, “That’s true…” Still, her guilt persisted despite the attempt at deflection and she had to backtrack, “Anyway...I’m sorry.”

A hint of sadness tinged Alaska’s voice as she shook her head and admitted with a rueful grin, “It’s really fine, I promise. Sleeping on the couch is not the worst thing that happened to me last night. Not by a longshot.”

The statement caught Courtney’s attention immediately but before she even had the presence of mind to question her further, the sound of her and Willam’s bedroom door being opened pulled her focus away from Alaska. In an undeniable state of anger, Willam marched straight from the bedroom towards the bathroom, all but slamming that door shut to boot.

As if to confirm Courtney’s growing suspicions of a falling out, Alaska immediately brought a hand to her head and let her shoulders sink in defeat. Clearly something unpleasant had happened at the club.

Placing a consoling hand to her roommate’s shoulder, Courtney carefully inquired, “Are you okay?” When no response came, her voice dipped even softer as she asked, “Did something happen? Do you need to talk-”

Straightening her slumped shoulders and slapping on a shaky smile, Alaska attempted to ease her concerns. “No no, don’t worry. I’m just being dramatic.”

Though far from convinced, Courtney knew it’d be best not to press the conversation any further. Nodding her head, she gave an agreeable, “Okay,” and let the topic drop. Before she left Alaska alone however, she pulled her in for a tight, comforting squeeze and assured her, “I’m here if you change your mind.”

She received a grateful nod of the head, but other than that, Alaska gave no indication she would take Courtney up on the offer. Not that Courtney blamed her. She doubted if she could even bring herself to fully discuss the mess she had gotten herself into with Bianca. So leaving the situation as it was, Courtney slipped into her bedroom to curl up and try to forget what a mess she’d made of things. Which turned out to be far easier said than done.

***

Courtney couldn’t focus during rehearsal. All she could think about was Bianca, and their stupid, confusing game of hot and cold. Even though it seemed like they made up, her icy demeanor this morning made Courtney unsettled. And worse, every time Courtney closed her eyes, she saw that look on her face in the bathroom. That intense, angry glare.

She’d seen Bianca angry before, but it had never been directed at her, and remembering it made her feel as weak and insecure as it had last night.

And then on the other hand, there was Adore. Being with her had been such a relief. No games, no guessing, just a beautiful and charming girl who wanted her and wasn’t afraid to show it. And in her arms, at least in the beginning before Bianca ruined everything, Courtney felt so good. So why was that one look, those few angry words, enough to stop all of Courtney’s fun? Prevent her from enjoying a casual hook-up with a compliant, enthusiastic, sexy stranger.

She couldn’t help wondering if Bianca would have done the same thing had Adore been a man. Not that there’d been much likelihood of that happening. At least, not last night. But was Adore right? Was she just jealous? It certainly seemed like that was part of the story.

So, she stumbled through ‘Wilkommen,’ mind spinning, and then completely blanked on the choreography during ‘Don’t Tell Mama.’

During the break, she slumped against the wall, sighing, trying her best to breathe deeply and get her shit together, when a hand on her shoulder made her look up.

It was Shea, a senior who was playing the Emcee, who had clearly noticed her fuck-ups, because she had a concerned look on her face as she asked, “Rough day, huh?”

“Um, yeah,” Courtney admitted. “Soz.”

“Don’t apologize. We all have our shit. Wanna talk about it?” Shea asked.

“Well...it’s complicated. I’m kind of having an issue with this...girl I like,” Courtney said, surprised at how easily the words rolled off her tongue.

“My specialty,” Shea told her, grinning wryly. “Go on…”

Courtney bit her lip. It could be good to unburden herself. It had certainly felt good to confess her feelings to Adore last night. So she took a deep breath, the whole story tumbling out quickly.

“She’s my roommate. And like, things have always been a bit...confusing. She flirts with me constantly, but it’s always in a way where it seems like she’s half kidding. And for awhile, that was fun, but lately it’s like she’s been pulling away, which is just-” Courtney sighed, trying to hold back tears as she continued. “She keeps finding ways to basically tell me that she doesn’t want anything more than friendship. So, fine, I got the hint. But then yesterday...”

Courtney trailed off. Somehow recounting the story made her even more unsure. Was she really seeing any of this clearly?

“Yeah?” Shea prodded.

“Well...we were at Sierra’s, and I met this girl, and I really liked her, and it was just...easy, you know?”

“An easy girl at Sierra’s? Sounds like a perfect night to me,” Shea said with a chuckle.

“Yeah, well, it would have been. But then Bianca like, interrupted us, because according to her, she was concerned that I was too drunk. I don’t know, she really got into my head, and we fought, and then I couldn’t enjoy it anymore. So I ended up leaving the club and we made up. I think? I fell asleep in her bed, and it was...I don’t know, it felt almost like we’d had some kind of a breakthrough. But now today she’s being weird again. I don’t know what to do.”

“Have you...okay, keep in mind that this might be a radical suggestion,” Shea said, “But have you considered talking to her? Maybe telling her how you feel?”

“I’ve tried!” Courtney exclaimed. “I’ve tried so many times. Or...I don’t know, it feels like I’ve tried.”

“Have you tried...while you’re wearing that?” Shea asked, eyes looking down pointedly at Courtney’s rehearsal clothes, a skimpy spaghetti-strap tank top and pair of tiny shorts. When she met Courtney’s eyes again, there was a wicked smirk on her face.

Courtney laughed, some of the tension finally leaving her shoulders.

“I’m not kidding,” Shea insisted.

“I appreciate your support,” Courtney giggled.

“Look. Go home, don’t change-”

At that, Courtney laughed again.

“And tell her how you fuckin’ feel,” Shea finished. “Open the door, invite her in...so to speak. If nothing else, then at least you’ll know that you were honest.”

“Well...you’re not actually the first one to give me that advice.” Courtney recalled Adore last night, telling her practically the same thing.

“There you go. Time to listen. Also...try to relax and forget about this shit while you’re here.” Shea slung an arm around her shoulder, continuing bluntly, “Or you’re gonna keep forgetting the choreo and Jonathan’s gonna replace your ass.”

Later, as Courtney walked home, she found herself getting more and more convinced that this was all just a giant misunderstanding. There had been so many signs. So many moments when Courtney was certain that Bianca liked her. And she became more and more determined to finally crack through Bianca’s walls.

How to do it was another question entirely. But she supposed that listening to Shea and keeping the short shorts on wouldn’t hurt.

***

Bianca knew that she’d brought this situation upon herself. She knew from the beginning, really, that she was in dangerous territory. But she’d blithely ignored the signs, the red flags, everything telling her that she needed to reign it in--and now, of course, everything was a mess.

Part of her was a bit resentful. Why should she have to deprive herself of some healthy fun? It wasn’t her fault that her straight (okay, bicurious, if she was honest) roommate found her so goddamn irresistible. She hadn’t done anything wrong--just some playful flirting, which she’d been clear from the beginning wasn’t meant to be taken seriously. She’d actually gone out of her way to overstate the boundaries.

But the smarter part...the more realistic part, knew that she was slightly full of shit. Knew that she’d done nothing, really, to stop the runaway train. And worse, that she’d allowed the situation at Sierra’s to get the better of her; her reaction to Courtney and Adore was entirely inappropriate and totally unjustified. She’d managed to squirm out of the conversation last night, probably due mostly to Courtney’s convenient intoxication. And this morning, too, managed to avoid any direct, uncomfortable questions. But Courtney wasn’t dumb, or a pushover, and she knew those questions would come sooner or later.

Bianca hated uncertainty. And right now, everything felt uncertain, which was both aggravating and deeply unsettling. The only good thing today had going for it was that by noon, everyone had left, and she had the place to herself.

Taking a long, relaxing bath when you share a bathroom with 3 other girls is a rare luxury. Unfortunately, in spite of the privacy and severely depleting her Lush supply, Bianca felt no better after her extended soak. She tried another tactic as the tub drained: vigorous exfoliation in the shower, scrubbing her body from head to toe until her skin felt raw. Unsurprisingly, that didn’t help either. Whatever was bothering her was clearly more than skin deep.

She emerged from the steamy bathroom still anxious, still defeated. And so, finally resigned, she slunk back to her bedroom and pulled out a book that her Global Communications professor had recommended, settling onto her bed and hoping to at least get something productive done today.

The soft knock on her door a little while later made her stomach drop. Shit.

“Come in,” she said, resigned to the fact that this was happening, folding down the page she was on and sliding her book onto the dresser.

Courtney pushed open the door, hesitating slightly. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, like she’d been hurrying in the chilly autumn air, and she was dressed in distractingly skimpy rehearsal clothes.

“Are you busy? I wanted to talk.”

“Nope.” Bianca tried to sound nonchalant, crossing her legs and tilting her head innocently. “What’s on your mind, dollface?”

Courtney strode forward and sat on the bed.

“Last night.”

“Yes?”

“Well. You said that you were worried that I’d drank too much. Right?”

“Yeah, I thought that you were-”

“But then why were you so mad?” Courtney’s direct, unwavering gaze made Bianca slightly uncomfortable.

“Well…”

“Because you weren’t acting concerned. You weren’t acting like you were worried about a friend’s safety. You were acting angry.” Courtney didn’t wait for her to respond before adding pointedly. “Some might even say jealous.”

She folded her arms, waiting for Bianca’s answer.

Bianca said nothing, instead choosing to stare at her with an expression just shy of a glare. In a way, she’d been prepared for this line of questioning. After all, she’d been there. She knew what happened. But she wasn’t prepared for the questions to come this fast, be this direct.

This was a whole new side of Courtney. No longer the soft, agreeable little doll that she’d become accustomed to. The girl staring at her was unapologetic, prepared to take no shit. It made Bianca panic; and when Bianca panicked-

“We're done with this,” Bianca declared stonily, reaching for her book.

Courtney stopped her, actually jumped up and snatched the book out of her reach.

“No, we're not!”

“Courtney,” Bianca said warningly. She expected that and a fierce glare to be enough for Courtney to back off, yet to her mild surprise Courtney merely shook her head.

“We need to talk about this. I deserve an answer.”

“There's nothing to fucking talk about!” Bianca shouted in spite of trying to keep her voice steady and emotionless. “I already told you why and if you don't want to believe me, that’s on you. Now give me my book.”

She held her hand out expectantly, determined not to give up without a fight.

Exasperated, Courtney tossed the book aside and cried out, “Why do you keep pretending that it didn't happen?”

“What didn't happen?” came Bianca’s mocking reply.

“That you got jealous!” Courtney snapped back, then paused, taking a breath before admitting, “And I get it, okay? I was too, after I saw you flirting with that ranga.”

“What’s a ranga? Is that so Aussie?” Bianca asked with a devious grin.

“Don’t try to be cute. The redhead you were talking to. At the tables?”

Bianca frowned, trying to remember, then realized who Courtney meant. “Oh…her...”

“Yeah, her.”

“That was a two-minute conversation,” Bianca said defensively.

“Well...” Courtney began, chewing on her lip, fingers nervously fidgeting as she continued, “That’s the point. I saw that and it made me feel...I don’t know, jealous and hurt, even though I knew that wasn’t really justified, or fair to you. You’re allowed to flirt with whoever you want, right?”

A tightness began to creep into Bianca’s throat. Was Courtney saying what it sounded like she was saying?

“But, then Adore started paying attention to me and suddenly I felt okay again,” she continued, and inexplicable anger took over, crushing the hope that had begun to bloom in Bianca’s chest.

“Great, good for you,” Bianca growled. “Why don’t you call her, then?”

“I don’t want to call her! I want you to admit that you saw me leave with her and you followed. You weren’t worried about my safety, you wanted to stop us from doing anything. Why can't you just admit that?” she asked desperately. Her eyes were pleading now and her voice started to crack.

And Bianca, of course, had no answer. She looked away, swallowing, then back at Courtney, still searching for something to say. But Courtney beat her to the punch once again.

“I think...maybe you like me,” she spoke softly. “Don’t you?”

When no answer came, once again, she tossed the book down and reached out, a hand on Bianca’s forearm.

“Well, I like you. If I didn’t like you, I’d have stayed in the club with Adore. That would have been the easiest thing. But I didn’t, because I care about you. And I think you know that...so why can’t we even talk about it like fucking adults?”

It wasn’t enough, was all Bianca could think. Courtney’s possibly temporary interest was not a reason to potentially fuck up a friendship, not to mention make their living situation extremely precarious.

Sneering, yet still not moving away, Bianca told her, “Nothing about this would be a good idea.”

“Why not?” Courtney couldn’t help saying, eyes rolling.

“Uh, about a million reasons,” Bianca said. “We’re roommates, we’re friends, and if things go south--scratch that, when things go south, it’ll be a fucking mess.”

“Could be worth it,” Courtney said, a smile pulling at her lips. “And I mean, I have heaps of other friends, so…”

Thoroughly annoyed by Courtney’s nonchalance, Bianca then went for a low blow by reminding her, “Okay, how about the fact that you've never been with a woman before?”

“So what?”

“So, I don’t even know if you’re gay. Or what you are. Maybe you’re just...confused.”

“Yeah, maybe!” Courtney burst out. “Maybe I don’t know what I am either. But labels aren’t really my priority right now. All I care about, all that matters, is that I like you.”

“What is the point of this conversation, anyway? Do you really think you can debate me into fucking you?” Bianca asked.

Courtney’s smile turned bittersweet, a sigh leaving her. She scooted closer to Bianca, their knees now touching, speaking gently and carefully.

“No, you’re right. I just wanted to tell you that I can’t stop thinking about you. And I don’t think it’s just some fleeting curiosity. I like everything about you...how smart you are, how funny, how even when you're teasing or mad at me like last night, I still wanna be close to you. I always have. You’re just so...so beautiful,” she finished, eyes soft and misty. No longer fighting, or trying to prove a point. No longer indignant or demanding an answer. Just looking at Bianca in that irresistible way, like she’d hung the moon. “And I think...it could be really great, if we gave it a shot.”

Bianca’s mind raced. How did this conversation go so off the rails, so quickly? What was she supposed to say to that?

“Maybe I’m wrong, though,” Courtney conceded lightly. “Maybe you don’t feel the same way. Maybe it’s all in my head.”

“Courtney-”

“If you tell me I’m wrong, I’ll leave. I won’t bother you about this again. So. Tell me I’m wrong.”

Courtney looked at her, challenging but still somehow soft and vulnerable. This was Bianca’s out. This was a gift, and they both knew it. And the smart thing to do would have been to take that gift and just tell her that she was wrong. Sorry for leading you on, dollface. Hope we can still be friends.

Instead, Bianca was an idiot.

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because. You’re not wrong, but-”

The smile that spread across Courtney’s face, lighting up her eyes, was yet another reminder to Bianca of how thoroughly she’d fucked this up.

“But listen,” she continued, “I told myself a long time ago that I would not, under any circumstances, be the kind of asshole who tried to seduce straight girls.”

“I’m not-”

“I know, I know, you don’t know what you are. But that’s the point, Court. I don’t want to be like, taking advantage of the fact that you’re confused right now. Okay? I just…” Bianca sighed. “God, I really should have just let you fuck that green-haired slut, huh?”

Courtney chuckled at that.

“I just...I made a promise to myself. That no matter what, I wasn’t gonna lay a hand on you.”

“Hmm.” Courtney made a small noise, backing off a little bit. “Okay.”

It was too easy, and her eyes still had that sparkle. So Bianca’s heart was still in her throat.

“I understand what you’re saying, B. And I would never want to make you feel like you have to break a personal promise.”

Bianca began to get the distinct impression that she was being mocked, in spite of the sweet and empathetic way that Courtney was speaking--or maybe because of it.

“But, if you’ll hear it...I do have a small counterpoint,” Courtney added.

“Fine.”

“Are you sure?” Courtney asked. “I don’t want to nag you. So if your mind is made up, I-”

“Just tell me your fuckin’ counterpoint.”

“Okay.” Courtney inched forward, “Here it is.”

Bianca’s eyes shifted to her knee, where Courtney’s hand had settled. Her breathing remained shallow, body unmoving. When she looked back into Courtney’s glittering green eyes, felt the soft hand slide up her thigh, her breath hitched.

“Do you want me to stop?” Courtney whispered.

Her pulse now racing, Bianca shook her head slightly, watching Courtney’s beautiful face as her eyes went soft. She leaned closer, lips hovering over Bianca’s, so close that Bianca swore she could taste her. Her free hand tangled into Bianca’s hair, fingers running through it as she cupped her cheek.

When their mouths were mere millimeters apart, Bianca’s eyes finally fell closed, lips parting in anticipation, hands moving to Courtney’s waist. Courtney brushed their lips together, so soft Bianca thought she may have imagined it.

Courtney had been dreaming of this for so long; it was hard for her to believe that it was really happening. She took her time, thumbs stroking Bianca’s cheeks, nose nuzzling into her gently before finally pressing their lips together. Her mouth was pillowy soft and warm, and Courtney couldn’t help smiling against her as she deepened the kiss, tongue slipping inside her mouth to luxuriate in the taste of her.

“Court, wait...are you really sure this is what you want?” Bianca asked, pulling back just a little to search her eyes.

Still panting, Courtney took a moment to compose herself, enough to look into Bianca’s eyes and say, “Dead sure.”

“Ugh, that’s so Aussie,” Bianca stated, and Courtney laughed, pulling her close again.

“Shut up,” she whispered, going in for another soft kiss.

And then, like a dam bursting open, she lunged forward, wrapping her arms around Bianca’s shoulders and climbing into her lap. A low moan left Bianca’s lips as she rolled her hips forward, which emboldened Courtney to continue, rocking against her. Her lips trailed down Bianca’s jaw to her neck, finding the tenderest spot to graze with her teeth before sucking gently.

“Shit,” Bianca murmured, fingers digging into Courtney’s waist.

Why on earth had she been fighting this?

She supposed that from the beginning, the fact that Courtney was straight had addled her mind. Made her off-limits in a way that allowed Bianca to pretend that she was keeping her distance. And the fact that this ‘straight’ girl seemed so into her? That made it better--an exercise in self-control, which Bianca deluded herself into thinking that she was winning. At least until this weekend.

Now though, with Courtney finally in her arms, enthusiastically devouring her neck, pulling at the buttons of her top, she finally allowed herself to relax.

“You’re really jumping into this lesbian thing with both feet, huh?” Bianca asked breathlessly.

“Is there any other way to do it?” Courtney murmured, licking up her throat, then pushing Bianca’s top open and letting out a gratified sigh.

The way she drank Bianca in with hungry, greedy eyes made hairs stand up on the back of her neck. And then she reached forward, hands sliding up Bianca’s torso, cupping her tits.

“God, you’re so sexy,” Courtney breathed, running the back of her fingers over Bianca’s achingly hard nipples.

“Shit,” Bianca groaned again, arching up. The frantic pulsing between her legs begged her to take back control—to fling Courtney onto her back and make her forget her own name. But part of her was also thrilled by how self-assured Courtney was, how quickly she’d been able to work Bianca up to the point of pain.

“Do you like that, B?” Courtney asked softly. Her body weight pressed down as fingers continued to casually toy with her nipples.

Bianca looked up at her, bleary-eyed with lust, and admitted, “I’ve never been so happy to be wrong in my life.”

Courtney giggled adorably, laying a light kiss against Bianca’s temple.

“Hold that thought,” she then said, jumping up from the bed.

Bianca lifted herself onto her elbows and blinked at her, a bit dazed, as she rifled through her dresser.

“What...what the hell are you looking for?”

“Just something to...aha!” Courtney pulled out a pair of black tights and ran to the door, tying them around the handle.

“We haven’t really established that code,” Bianca said.

“She’s smart. She’ll figure it out.” Courtney shut the door firmly, turning back to Bianca with a wicked grin. She whipped off her shirt (and bra) in one fluid motion, tossing them to the floor, then took her sweet time sauntering back to the bed, asking, “Where were we?”

Bianca cleared her throat, trying to tear her eyes from her perfect little tits before answering hoarsely, “You were teasing the shit out of me.”

“Oh yeah,” Courtney said brightly, climbing back on the bed and straddling her quickly. “Thanks...”

#rpdr fanfiction #bitney #bianca del rio #courtney act #willam belli #alaska thunderfuck #willaska #shea coulee #college au #lesbian au #friends to lovers #fluff #almost smut #off limits #just friends #veronica #albatross

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leotssukinaga · 4 years

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It’s Nice to Have a Friend

Kozume Kenma x Reader

Summary: Based on It’s Nice to Have a Friend by Taylor Swift. You and Kenma are childhood friends, but something else has been blooming for a long time. Word Count: 2113 A/N: I was gonna put this song on the songfic list, but I already knew I wanted to write it for Kenma so I didn’t. Finally got round to that. Also can y’all tell he’s my favourite character to write dksdg Warnings: Alcohol and drinking.

It's been like this for as long as you can remember, even after he started playing volleyball Kenma always walks you home. In middle school you'd sit in on practice, walking home with him afterwards, and he'd often stay for dinner at your parents behest. Now you're in high school there's no need since you only live 5 minutes from Nekoma's campus. He walks you home anyway. There are many things Kenma will never admit to you, the first being that he doesn't actually have an extra ten minutes before practice, he just doesn't mind rushing if it means he knows you're safe. You'd spent the first year of high school insisting that you'd get home fine on your own, or that you didn't mind waiting, but he never listened to you. He had time, he said, and nothing about his tone suggested that it was a lie. It was, but Kuroo never teased him too much for his sacrifice (or at least if he did, Kenma just tuned him out.) Tonight though, there's no practice, and the setter waits at his desk for you to pack up once class ends. He knows you always take a moment, the array of coloured pens you use (because notes should be colour coded to make studying easier, you’d insisted in your second year of middle school) take time to put away. You tuck the note he'd passed you earlier into your pocket. You always keep them. He doesn't know that. The smile he gives you as he holds a hand out to carry your bag is barely visible, but it's certainly there, and warmth spreads through your chest at the sight.

Snow swirls around you, settling in your hair and on your lashes as your rummage through your bag for your hat and gloves. Kenma can't stop himself from staring at you, the light reflecting off the half melted flakes giving you an ethereal glow. If you weren't half freezing to death, he'd want to stay like this forever. Your cheeks are rosy from the cold as you triumphantly wave your hat around, but your grin soon fades as you realise your gloves are nowhere to be found. Kenma doesn't say a word as he removes one of his, placing it in your hand. He's refusing to make eye contact, and given the weather it's hard to tell whether the red on his cheeks is a blush or not. You know better than to argue, slipping the glove onto your right hand and thanking him quietly.

As the two of you reach your street, you notice a pair of colourful cat ears on a patch of ground untouched by snow. Your neighbours 6 year old had been drawing on the sidewalk this morning when you left for school, the weather having changed unexpectedly, and you pouted a little knowing her lovely drawing would be ruined. Kenma's features turned puzzled as you ran to the spot, kicking the snow away and grinning when you realised the drawing hadn't been too affected by the snow. He watched in confused amusement as you snapped a few pictures of it and emailed them to your printer. "Why?" "I thought it would be a nice thing to give to her. She's only little, she must've been devastated when she realised it would be washed away." There are many things Kenma will never admit to you, and the second is that moments like this- where you do things just for the sake of being kind, where you smile at him and explain your kindness like it's the most obvious thing in the world- are the moments he lives for. He'd give up video games to see you like this one more time. The snow is coming down heavier as you reach your front door, and you pull him under the portico to protect him. "Wanna hang out?" "Yeah, sounds like fun." Your smile is as radiant as ever as you insert the key into the lock, calling out for your parents once the door is shut behind the two of you. One day he hopes he'll walk through the front door of your own shared house, or that it will be your kids calling for you as you prepare dinner together, but at the moment it seems like nothing more than a pipe dream. For now, he's content with what you have, building things in Minecraft, kicking his ass at Mariokart, logging into Elder Scrolls Online together after practice. In the summer you could occasionally coax him outdoors, although the closest you'd gotten him to indulging in your love of camping was a tent in your back garden. (He hadn't liked it, but you were so happy he couldn't complain, and waking up in that close proximity to you had made his heart swell.) He stays the night, the snow far too heavy for him to make it home, and around 3am you roll over to face him. "Hey Kenma?" "Yeah?" "Its nice to have a friend." "Yeah, it is." The glow of your alarm clock illuminates your faces enough to make the smile you share visible. It’s the last thing you see before you fall asleep.

When college rolls around, it surprises nobody that you'd picked the same one. Even if you hadn't made a conscious decision to go together, you've always been synchronised. Two sides of the same coin, your parents had commented more than once. Your smile had been contagious when you announced that you got in, and he'd seemed genuinely energetic for once as he announced that he had too.

Neither of you are much for parties, too many people and definitely too much noise, but that doesn’t mean you can't have your own fun. He'd been confused and a little apprehensive when you'd pulled him up the stairs and onto the roof, but it soon became clear what you'd planned out. Several bottles of alcohol sit in the centre of the large picnic blanket that's stretched over the concrete surface of the rooftop, both of your Switches, a few board games and, of course, Uno neatly arranged next to them. A bluetooth speaker softly plays a mix of both your favourite songs, and a grin spreads across his oft emotionless face as he takes it all in. It's his idea of the ideal party- one with nobody but you- and the look on your face tells him you knew that. "What d'you want to drink?" "Whatever you're having..." You hand him a bottle of something blue, and he's surprised at the sweetness when he takes a sip. "So, 20 questions or Uno?" "Why not both?" "I knew you were secretly a genius."

He admits, once the alcohol has made its way into his system a little more, that the stress has been piling up recently, that he really needed this to unwind, that you always seem to know exactly how to fix things even just for a moment. He attempts to retracts the statement once you kick his ass at Uno, but the way you giggle makes his heart beat and the way your lips glisten with the stray drop of vodka that lingers after you take a sip brings back the years of daydreams he's had about kissing you. The sky is turning pink, but the late hour doesn't matter anymore, not when you're in your twenties and you don't have class tomorrow. "Its pretty like this." "Yeah, you are." "Hm?" "Uh- nothing. The sky is nice." You decide to let it slide. "Yeah, it's a really good colour. I think it might be one of my favourites..." There are many things Kenma will never admit- the third being what he’s thinking right now- that his favourite colour is the blush on your cheeks, the way your eyes shine in the light, the colour of your lips between your teeth when you're nervous. That if he had to pick a favourite colour it would simply be you. He doesn't know when he got the courage to put his hand on yours, but you haven't moved it away, and the smile on your face as you take in the sunset tells him you don't have an issue. "Hey, Y/N?" "Yeah?" "Its nice to have a friend." He mirrors your words from a few years ago, the meaning behind it deeper than before. You grin, pink and purple illuminating your beauty, and after 15 years of knowing you he's found no evidence that you aren't an angel. He doubts there is any. "Yeah, it is."

It's always been like this, you smiling at Kenma and him smiling back- a smile that nobody else gets to see. Today, everyone sees it, though it's meant only for you. He leans in to whisper to you as you reach him, tears in both your eyes, and though the wedding is small the love and joy you feel from everyone in the room is overwhelming. When you were 10 and he invited you over for the first time to play Zelda on his gamecube, neither of you could imagine a future where you got married at all, let alone to each other. In high school, when you showed up to his games with a red number five on a sign and his spare jacket tied round your waist (when did you steal that?) he could only dream of a day like this. There are many things Kenma had thought he’d never admit, and now he wanted to tell you all of them. Starting with the fact that your first kiss, the first time he told you he loved you, the night you fell asleep with your head in his lap- none of them could compare to how he felt right now, looking at you on your wedding day.

Bells ring behind you as white confetti gathers on the ground, and from a distance it would almost look like it was snowing. You pose for photos for what feels like hours, every possible combination and location exhausted. The reception is as beautiful as the ceremony, though far less refined, and you've just sat down next to Kenma to take a break when Kuroo pulls you to your feet, insisting it's tradition to dance with the best man. You both know it's a lie, but you've been putting up with his antics for long enough to know that your better off just rolling with it. "I've never seen Kenma smile this much, you know." "Me neither, actually." "Its because of you." "I'm glad I make him happy." "Does he make you happy?" "D'you think I'd have married him if he didn't?" "Thats the right answer."

Kenma insists on carrying you into your apartment, despite the exhaustion visible on his face, and you kiss his cheek gently as he closes the door. You make your way to the kitchen to make tea, and you don't notice him behind you until he's tickling your sides, grinning at your giggles. "You're sleeping on the couch if you don't stop!" "You don't mean that." "I do!" "Prove it." He keeps going, and you eventually concede. You'd never kick him out of bed, even if he was being a little shit right now. This playful side of Kenma didn't come out too often- but you adored when it did. You reach up to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. It's mostly black now, and tied back as usual. It suits him, you think, as you cup his cheek and kiss him with all the tenderness in the world.

The next morning starts with light flooding through your curtains and your husbands arms around you. You can feel him gently kissing your shoulder as you reach down to take his hand in your own. "Morning babe..." "Morning love." You turn around to face him, eerily reminiscent of a night all those years ago. The smile on his face is the same as it had been then. Being this close to him feels like home. "Let's stay in bed today." "I like the sound of that." You know that when it comes down to it, you'll always have him. You wouldn't want it any other way. There are many things Kenma thought he would never admit, many secrets he now wants to spill to you and nobody else, but the one thing he wants to tell anybody who’ll listen- is just how much he loves you. "Hey Kenma?" "Yeah?" "Its nice to have a friend." "Yeah." He brings your hand up to his mouth, placing a gentle kiss on each of your fingers, pausing with his lips on your wedding ring. "Yeah, it is."

taglist: @tremendousglitterthing @svtbitch @the-fandom-ness @atsumumu (I ACTUALLY REMEMBERED THIS TIME)

#my writing #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu imagines #hqappreciation #kenma #kozume kenma #kenma x reader #kozume kenma x reader #fave

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