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mhahaikyuus · 10 months

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Wait for me

Tags:; angst to fluff, exes to lovers, mentions of therapy, drinking, trying to move on, Bakugo groveling, crying, happy ending

“I don’t want to talk to you”

“But I want to talk to you.” He insisted as you kept walking trying evade him. Katsuki’s hulking figure trying to blocking your path.

“What do you want? Huh?” He said speed walking a little in disbelief at how fast your legs could move from him.

“To leave me alone.”

He grabbed your hand and yanked it stopping you both from the street. Katsuki pulling you to the side from the busy pathway both of you were inhabiting into a alleyway.

“I’ll buy you whatever you want.”

“No.” You groaned tired of the same routine.

“Shoes?”

“I already have a pair.” You said with dead eyes and a blank face.

“You want a bag?”

“Nope.”

He was getting desperate.

“Makeup? Clothes? Books? I’ll buy you a car! Come on im trying here.” He said exasperated

You shrugged.

You were shut down from him. Looking at him as if he was a stranger not your ex boyfriend you hadn’t spoken to in almost two weeks.

“I don’t want your money. If i did I would have kept talking to you.”

He sucked his teeth in annoyance.

“You know what I want.” You continued looking at him unimpressed. This show of money irritating you.

“You know I can’t-“ He struggled to put it into words. Fortunately you knew him like the back of your hand

“Okay. I’m not forcing you and i’m not going to demand you. It’s your choice. I can’t be in a relationship with you anymore.” You said with a sigh letting down your wall even if it was an inch.

Katsuki felt his stomach turn at your words. He hadn’t had many relationships in his life and he was known for his abrasive personality. Something all his previous partners had to endure. Katsuki knew it was wrong but always made it clear, if you couldn’t deal with it the door was always open.

It wasn’t til seeing you walk out made him reconsider everything.

All you had asked for was an apology. To admit he was wrong and say sorry.

But it would never come, and after a while it took a toll on you.

Gifts and a hug were nothing to you, and Katsuki trying to skirt around those two words began to hurt your heart.

You brought it up after every fight asking him to address your needs.

When it was clear he wouldn’t, you accepted it. Never one to beg you took up Bakugo on his words, leaving him.

You didn’t know what you were waiting for, “If that’s all, can I go now or do you have something else to say.” Adjusting your bag and shuffling your feet.

Katsuki felt ashamed of himself but the words still wouldn’t leave his mouth. Letting you know his pride was worth more than your relationship.

But what else could you expect, dating the number two pro.

The correct choice was made, no matter how heartbroken you were. Seeing him now confirmed that. He wouldn’t change.

Katsuki mumbled, “No I dont.”

You nodded, “Alright, it was good seeing you. If you need something you can call me, okay?” Offering him a small smile and going on your way, blinking back tears.

You wanted so badly to be angry at him but you couldn’t. It wasn’t meant to be. If he wanted to change he would for the right person and you weren’t her. It wasn’t his fault. All you could hope was he would be happy and he learned to better himself because he wanted to, that or find the right person. But you didn’t want to think about it, the very thought making you want to collapse.

Katsuki watched you leave feeling the hole in his chest grow.

It had been two weeks since you had left him teary eyed. Your last words replaying in his mind.

“I want an apology for what you said.”

He dragged his hand down his face, “I know but you know how I feel why do I have to say it.”

“You can’t say two words?” You asked sadly truly realizing his ego was his number one priority.

He almost started grinding his teeth almost as if he was in agony at the thought of putting you first.

“Nevermind…I know I shouldn’t have asked.” Your previous words felt to close to begging for your liking.

He let out a sigh of relief, thinking you would let it go. Like you had done one hundred times before.

Why were you with someone who would never put you first?

After a moment of silence you spoke up “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

You had also realized you had let this behavior go on 100 times before, and it wasn’t right. You didnt deserve that.

“What?” He said in a shaky voice starting at your dispirited form.

“I don’t want to be with you anymore. I won’t ask you to change when you don’t want to. It’s better to end things now than end up miserable.” You said slowly

He made you feel as though a future with him would end in misery.

It was all he could think about for the last two weeks. After the first day seeing you not respond to his texts he left you alone. His pride too big.

Bakugo felt he was stuck in a constant cycle of wanting to swallow his pride and chase after you. The fact you wouldn’t beg or plead with him to change caused him to spiral. But he couldn’t. After decades of this behavior it was impossible for him to try and make another choice.

Instead soft moments you two shared plaguing his mind.

Cuddling after a long day while Katsuki groaned into your chest as he told you about his day.

“Commission told me I needed to change my attitude if I was going to work on the mission and I told them to fuck off.” He grumbled as you raked your hands through his hair.

You laughed at his words.

“Good because I wouldnt want you to change for anyone. I like you exactly as you are.”

He glared at you his chin resting on your chest.

“Like?”

You huffed at his insecurity but never complained, always happy to reassure.

“Love, i love you exactly as you are.” You corrected yourself.

He had never met anyone who had so wholeheartedly accepted him. Even in your worst moments you never wavered on your love for him.

Everyone else, his friends, his family, his own mother. Every single one told him his flaws in detail and told him he had to change. It angered him to no end but he knew he had no one to blame but himself.

All you had asked was to try and put you first and he foolishly took that for granted. Now Katsuki only had fleeting moments with you. He had carefully orchestrated after spending so many nights alone. Katsuki had noted your most common areas of walking in the city when you were together and asked a favor to switch patrol times.

Seeing your familiar jacket and hair he took his chance to see you again.

Katsuki didn’t know what he would say when he saw you again. He just needed to. But it only to affirmed your reasoning for leaving him.

Seeing you walk away for the second time was a widening hole to his chest. Worse than any pain a villian had inflicted upon him.

The one person who never asked him to change, walked away.

He loved you more than life. Why couldn’t he say the words.

The days got longer and the nights became sadder. The remnants of your presence left in his apartment were the only thing keeping him going.

Your toothbrush next to his on the sink, lotion on the nightstand, pillow smelling of perfume on his bed.

Not seeing you curled up in bed, the tv blaring whatever show you liked, the smell of shared dinner wafting in the apartment. Katsuki realized what he had done.

He was ashamed.

Your toothbrush next to his untouched, your pillow smell less of you everyday, and making dinner for one made him silently weep before he left in the morning and every night before he went to bed.

Bakugo had always assumed he was going to end up alone since he was a child. His awareness never seeing a reason to be sad. But now he had the experience of love it was devastating. It was all his fault.

Two weeks of no contact besides Katsuki’s street ambush turned into 2 months.

You were heartbroken but tried to move on.

The feelings of guilt and shame didn’t carry onto your side.

Each date you powered through. If you weren’t the right person for Bakugo, then he couldn’t be the one for you.

These dates could let you find someone who, on the off chance could love you back as much as you did them.

It didn’t change the result, each date ending with a kiss and you coming home alone to cry.

Until you found a sweet guy named Yuki. He was nothing like your ex. Very kind, quiet, and he liked you a lot.

Sorry was at the tip of his tongue in his daily speaking, slightly shocking but it was a nice change.

On a coffee date he had bumped your chair a little too rough and almost went into a panic.

“I’m so sorry are you alright?” He asked with widened brown eyes of fear as you readjusted yourself.

It was all you could do to not laugh.

“I’m fine, i swear. Stop apologizing.” You said gently touching his hand to calm him.

He was shy, rubbing the back of his neck, “Okay.”

Todoroki was picking up bakery sweets for his girlfriend, a stop on his way to home from patrol. Seeing you and Yuki on your fourth date enjoying each others company in the corner of a small cafe.

He interrupted your date to say hi.

“Hi y/n how are you.” Todoroki asked standing at your table. It had been a while since he had seen you.

It was a shock to see one of Bakugo’s friends after removing yourself from his life.

“Hi Shoto! How are you?” You asked

Making small talk before Shoto said his goodbyes and left not wanting to interrupt.

“Who was that?” Yuki asked seeing slight distress in your eyes.

“Oh…um an old friend.” You replied with a small smile changing the topic.

The only thing on your mind, wondering if Shoto would tell him.

Bakugo wanted to die.

Shoto on patrol mentioned offhandedly seeing you with a friend yesterday night at a cafe. Having no idea that the two of you were broken up.

In the two months of being alone he was trying everything to fix himself.

One weak night he had, he broke and came to his father in tears asking what to do.

His father was so gentle mannered and quiet and he loved his mom. Making a copy of his wife, when they found out they were expecting. Both Bakugo and Mitsuki butting heads due to being so similar. If anyone could talk to him it was Masaru.

“What do I do? I need her” He said tearfully. Katsuki had pride and not anyone could see him this vulnerable. But his father knew him so intimately it was hard to keep that wall up.

Masaru was gentle but he was firm. The only way to be with his wife for this long. “You need professional help. Therapy might be best for you.”

Bakugo nodded in defeat at his words.

Now once a week he sat in a office on a cramped couch to discuss his feelings.

He hated it.

Everytime the therapist asked him a question Katsuki wanted to snap at him. Instead taking a deep breath and grumbling out an answer.

Remembering that you would move on and could find someone if he didn’t do this.

Now his worst nightmare came true. As he was trying to work on himself you had moved on. Icy Hot being a dumbass and rambling about seeing you last night with a “friend”, Bakugo knew all your friends and what he had described was a date.

He got off of work and went straight to the bar to drink. Something he did rarely but today called for a drink.

You were sleeping in your bed as one does at 2am. When your ex boyfriend pounded on your door waking you and your neighbors up.

Jumping from your sleep at the noise of his giant fist slamming against the door. At first you thought someone was breaking in but the incessant banging shook the sleep from your head. Dragging yourself out of bed to swing open your door. To see your ex leaning against the doorframe towering over you. Liquor on his breath and cloudy red eyes. He looked so different from the last time you saw him. Bloodshot eyes sunken deep with bags, he had scruff on his usual clean shaven face, and his hair was longer.

You jumped back in surprise.

“What are you doing here?” You said almost tripping on your own feet to move away.

“I missed you.” He said pushing his way in.

“It’s 2am and youve been drinking.” You scolded him.

A cocky smile graced with face. “You worried about me baby.”

Okay he was really drunk.

“I’m calling you a cab home, sit on the couch.” You said grabbing your phone. Katsuki plucked it out your hand and pulled you in by the waist. Smelling your hair with a deep inhale. You shoved him back in shock.

“Katsuki! You can’t. Sit down.” You said his hand still firmly on your waist.

Now you were back in his arms he wasn’t letting go.

“I love you.” He said with a drunk slur nuzzling your neck.

You pulled your upper body back and gripped his face.

“Listen to me.”

His drunk eyes were glazed over but he focused on your voice. He nodded.

“Sit down and let me go.” You said slowly

“I already let you go once.” He said and you could see his eyes water. Your chest hurt at his words.

You sighed, “Okay, and im coming back. Just lay back on the couch.”

“Promise?”

He was such a sappy drunk.

“I promise.”

He nodded slowly letting you go and you guided him to the couch.

You grabbed a bottle of water and put two pieces of bread in a toaster.

Bakugo was face first into your couch. Gently pulling his body up he swung his arm around and yanked you into his lap.

You huffed at his touchiness.

“Eat and drink up.”

He nodded almost crumbling up the toast into a ball to eat it in under a minute and chugging the water.

At least he wasn’t fussing about the bread and water. An attempt to try to sober him up, but that seemed to fail. The only comfort knowing tomorrow morning wouldn’t be as bad for him.

“Where is he?” Katsuki asked

You were half listening to him, “Who?”

“Yuki.” He said leaning on your neck, “Your new boyfriend.”

You prepared for this, when Shoto greeted you. Still his question made your heart squeeze.

“Not here, and he’s not my boyfriend.” You corrected brushing back his hair, letting yourself fall for a moment. Knowing it was wrong. Even if the love you had for him still existed it didn’t mean you could show it. It wasn’t healthy, you broke up for a reason.

Pulling back from him, climbing out of his lap.

His hand grabbing your own and locking your fingers.

“I fucked up.” Katsuki said leaning into you. “I’m sorry.”

You froze at his words, telling yourself

hes drunk

“I’m sorry I was an asshole. I lost you.” He mumbled again with watery eyes.

Twice he had said the words that had broken you up. Holding his face you nodded with matching sad eyes..

“You weren’t all bad. We just weren’t meant to be together.” You struggled to put it into words feeling your chest ache.

He nodded slurring, “I’m changing, i’m trying.”

You hummed gently laying him back. He was finally losing steam and the drunkenness catching up to him.

“I’m happy for you.” You said putting a blanket over him.

His eyes were half open and his pinkie still locked in yours.

“I’m in therapy. Talking about my feelings n shit. You know i’d do anything for you. Ya love of my life. Can’t believe i lost ya im drowning. Im gonna be better, for you.” He murmured. His crimson eyes closed, features relaxing succumbing to sleep.

You left another glass of water on your coffee table and a trashcan by the sofa. Quietly closing your door to your bedroom. Sobbing into your pillow, wishing it was real. The small part of you still wanting for the both of you to be together. But drunken words meant nothing in the morning.

The next morning you walked in to Bakugo sleeping on your couch. He always woke up late when he drank. Two years together you knew him as well as breathing. Closing your door you didn’t want to wake him.

Around 1pm you heard shuffling and creaking of your couch. A small knock was heard on your door before Katsuki slowly came in.

He looked as terrible as last night.

“Hey,” You said quietly

He cleared his throat ashamed at what he had done, “Hi, look i don’t…whatever happened i’m sorry.”

“How are you feeling?” You said shutting the book you were reading, gesturing for him to sit on the bed.

“Like I got hit by a truck.” He admitted sitting down at the foot of the bed on the side that was previously his.

You nodded, “Um you were just drunk and mumbling. Don’t worry about it, I know drunk words don’t mean anything.”

He nodded, “My bad.”

Katsuki was getting flashes of what he said. It wasn’t hard to figure out. Drunk mumbles of what he was thinking all the time.

You shrugged, “You had a bad night. I’m just concerned that you are okay. You don’t look the best.”

He fiddled with the seam of his pants unable to look at you, “You heard everything I said last night?”

“Yeah, but like I said. I know it didn’t mean-“

Katsuki interrupted “I meant every word, at least everything I remember, it’s coming back in pieces.”

“Katsuki you were drunk and emotional. We can just mark it off as a bad night. It’s partly my fault for letting you get so close.”

In truth some of the words he said you took with a grain of salt.

Katsuki in therapy made you laugh. He always grunted about how stupid it was to talk and he would never.

He was regretful for how things ended but that was common in a breakup. Getting drunk was an outlet for unsaid emotions. Along with the fact he was a sappy drunk.

It wasn’t real.

He would never change for you.

A bad night, that’s all it would ever be.

Bakugo was getting frustrated at you letting him off the hook. This would be so much easier if you grilled him or yelled about his actions last night.

But you were giving him an out. He wanted to take it. Feelings made him sick, vulnerability scarier than any else in this world.

You knew this about him. It hurt his heart that you were still so loving to him.

Katsuki took two deep breaths and covered his face with his hands. Elbows resting on his knees.

“How did I fuck this up this bad.” He muttered to himself fighting back tears.

Unable to hear what he said you hesitantly touched his shoulder to grab his attention.

“Sorry what did you say?”

He studied you a moment and took every piece of advice that stupid therapist had given him about you.

If you want her to think about giving you a chance, you have to be honest with her. You have to make the decision to try and put her first even if it makes you uncomfortable. If you love her you will try.

Ignoring every fiber of his being screaming at him to shut up and take the out. Leave you alone so he wouldn’t have to be vulnerable.

“I said how did i fuck this up this bad.”

You shrunk back at his words, “Oh…” Recognizing the venom in his tone and mistaking the anger he had towards himself at you.

“I didn’t mean to make you mad.”

He almost barked out a laugh, “I’m so in love with you this is killing me. And now you don’t believe anything I said.” His retinas burning with unshed tears

You swallowed at this confession. Even if you both loved each other…it wouldn’t be enough. Love isn’t enough as much as you wanted it to be.

“You were drunk I would never hold you to drunk words.”

“I meant every word. I fucked this up because I was selfish. I still love you and this is killing me. And now you’re moving on and I have no one to blame but myself. I’m trying to get better, for you. I took you for granted. But i was telling the truth last night i’m going to therapy im trying to work through my shit so if you ever changed your mind about me you won’t be miserable. So we could have a chance. I’m sorry.” He said so sadly.

Tears were dripping down your face once he finished. Shaky breaths the only noise in the room.

He was saying everything you wanted but why so late? Why did it have to get to this point for him to realize.

Katsuki froze at you crying your eyes out grabbing you and holding you to his chest as you sobbed.

“Please don’t cry. Please.” He whispered

“I wanted you to get better while we’re together. I thought maybe if i was the right person you would. But so much has happened, we’re not together anymore. I don’t think we’re right for each other. I don’t think i’m right for you. I don’t…i don’t think love is suppose to hurt this way.”

Katsuki felt like a brick was on his chest as he tried to stay afloat. You didn’t think you were suppose to be together? You didn’t think that you were right for him?

When in all this time, that was the only thing Katsuki was sure of.

“You are the only girl for me. The only person in this world I want to be with. We’ve been apart and that’s what is hurting us, not our love for each other.” Katsuki was cradling your face regret written all over his, “I know. I made a mistake. It took me losing you to figure that out but i’m making changes i’m trying.”

“I can’t…”

“Please baby please.” Katsuki didn’t care he was begging now. Pride out the window the second he decided to come over last night belligerent. These past two months without you were agony. He couldn’t imagine doing this for the rest of his life.

“I can’t trust you to do the same as last time. I don’t want to do that again.” You said your hand over his, tears still dripping.

He nodded, “Okay, I understand. What do you want me to do, I’ll do it. I can’t be without you anymore baby I can’t sleep, I can’t eat I need you. Just one more chance, that’s all i’m asking. I promise I won’t screw it up. I’ll prove to you we’re right for each other, I’ll earn your trust back.”

You took deep breaths pulling back from him Katsuki kept your hands in his, his face leaning into yours, vermillion eyes frantic studying your own. Trying to break through the walls you had built up in your time apart. His other hand wiping your tears.

You took 3 shaky breaths trying to calm down your breathing. “You have to keep going to therapy. We won’t be together until I see actions not just words.” You said “I need to see you make an effort. I don’t want to go back to the same relationship. If you really want to change for me you need to show it. And no more trying to buy my love instead of apologizing.”

Bakugo was holding his breath hoping for you to give him a chance he didn’t deserve.

“I don’t want to be in a relationship until I do. We can date but we aren’t together until I say so.”

Bakugo felt his chest lift. You were giving him another chance. He knew he didn’t deserve it, he didn’t deserve a minute more of your time. But that would change. He would make himself worthy enough to call himself your life partner. Katsuki would remove any doubt you had about him.

Bakugo nodded his head

“Whatever you want baby. Just wait for me?”

You nodded, “I’ll wait for you.”

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barrelcat · 1 year

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Holiday Pickups 2022

Happy New Year!

A little late, but thought I’d share some pickups from right before Christmas to now.

I’m very lucky to be a mod of a great writing community on discord and this is the second year that we’ve engaged in Secret Santa across the server. @grimbims, who was my Secret Santa, sent me Hades on the Switch! I was also delighted to discover that the physical copy of the game comes with a code for the soundtrack, as well as a small artbook featuring all of the game’s characters. It’s also my first roguelike (again, recalling that whole “broadening your gaming horizon” thing), and while Hades is difficult for my novice skills, it’s a terrible amount of fun. I’m not too bad at it, either. I favor the spear coupled with blessings from Artemis and have made it just past Asterius on Elysium, but that battle of attrition always leaves me struggling to survive afterward.

Xenoblade Chronicles Definitive Edition is the other game I’m shuffling between right now. I had asked for XC3, but there was a mixup during my gifter’s order and I ended up with this one instead, which may secretly have been what I actually wanted. I know that XC3 is supposed to be amazing, but I like to get the whole story, even if the internet tells me that I don’t need to play 1 and 2 before diving in. I’m about twenty hours deep so far and can confidently say that I’m going to play it to the end. The world and premise are interesting, the characters and story are compelling, even if the dialogue is a bit painful at times (my writer's brain can be overly critical even at the best of times), and the gameplay loop is satisfying. It feels very MMO to me. As an avid FFXIV player, that’s only a good thing.

I was excited for Harvestella the moment it debuted on the Nintendo Direct back in June of ‘22 (oh my gosh, is that really “back in” already???). Even though I’ve only dabbled in a handful of farming/life simulators, I’ve obsessed over the ones that I have played (minus Stardew Valley - I know, I’m awful, but it just never grabbed me like it did others. Conan Exiles, though? I lost days to that game.) The anime aesthetic coupled with farming and crafting in Harvestella spoke to me like a game hasn’t in a long, long time, and I knew I needed it as soon as it launched. This was later confirmed when I blasted through the Switch demo shortly after. As excited as I was, though, I’ve decided to set this one aside until I finish the first Xenoblade. Then I’ll discover what was really going on with those Seaslights.

I played Fire Emblem: Three Houses for the first time just a couple months ago. The two weeks I poured into it were gone all too quickly, and while I told myself and friends that I wanted to do a replay for the other endings and storylines, I just couldn’t bring myself to betray Edelgard. After 70+ hours together, her character meant too much to me. Color me excited when I realized that Fire Emblem: Three Hopes was another story featuring those characters, but in the style of the Dynasty Warriors games. (Note: to be honest, I’m not sure what the deal is with the story, but I’m excited to find out!) So once I get to this one, I’m sure it’s going to be another non-stop ride.

Not gifts per se, but I did pick up a Byleth amiibo with some Christmas Cash, as well as a copy of Fire Emblem Fates: Birthright for the 3DS from the local used game shop. I wanted to get a copy of an FE Fates game so I could download the third not-so-secret storyline to that series, Fire Emblem Fates: Revelations. If you didn’t know, the online shop for the 3DS (and the Wii U, I believe) are being shut down in March of 2023. Apart from purchases made before that date, nothing will be available on those marketplaces to buy or download. Part of a string of odd choices made by Nintendo, recently.

I’ve been eyeing these books since the newest printing was announced sometime last year. Both volumes of the Encyclopaedia Eorzea are gazetteers of the world of FFXIV, and feature stunning art taken from the game. They’re filled to the brim with world lore, and remind me more of a D&D campaign guide than anything else. I have half a mind to use them to run a game set in Eorzea using these books as source material. Maybe then I can get my group to join me in the MMO.

This mug is from Etsy and brings me immeasurable joy. It features a memed version of Gaius van Baelsar’s famous line from the end of FFXIV: A Realm Reborn and makes me cackle every time I read it. I actually received two of these in duplicate, a 16oz and a 12 oz. The larger has worked its way into my mug rotation (because we all have a thousand mugs at this point, right?), and the smaller has earned its place among my small-yet-growing FFXIV collection next to my handcrafted moogle (a birthday present from my sister). From his perch, Gaius will always be there to remind me to drink more coffee.

Probably the coolest gift I received this year was an ocarina from the Nintendo 64 classic, The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of time. I’m not sure if the picture does it justice, but the craftsmanship is stunning. The blue gloss is deep and shines wonderfully under light. It fits perfectly on the shelf with my other Zelda mementos. The box came with sheet music for several melodies from the game, so I’m definitely going to try and learn a couple tunes. Physical items from games like this are the best. I’ll admit, I have a soft spot for action figures, but having something tangible from a game world you’ve invested hours into is so, so cool.

The final, and arguably largest, pickup for this update is a Nintendo Wii that I was able to find locally on CraigsList for a fantastic price! I didn’t have a Wii when I was younger (well, I did briefly… but that story might be for another time) and I’ve had one on my list for a while. Everything works, minus some battery acid damage on one of the Wii remotes, but I’m going to invest some time into repairing that soon.

The seller lived about an hour away, so we met halfway at another used game shop that I hadn’t been to before. After the transaction, I popped inside to grab a couple games as well, including Nights: Journey of Dreams and SSX Blur. I read the Nights comics when I was kid, which were Sega and Archie Comics attempting to see if the series could survive the market. They didn’t, unfortunately, but they were a major influencer in my perhaps misguided desire to become a writer, so I’ve always wanted to try the games. As for SSX, Blur is the only one I haven’t played in the series. SSX Tricky on the GameCube was a gaming staple when I was a kid, so I couldn’t pass this one up when I found it.

All in all, exciting additions to the collection with a lot of games to enjoy.

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rainbowsinthestorm · 2 years

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Update

Hi everyone! Apologies that I’ve been absent lately and haven’t updated At The Beginning in a while. Lately, I’ve been struggling.

I know it’s been a while since I updated my series but if I’m being totally honest, my mental health has been really bad lately and I just haven’t been in the right head space to even think about writing. I’d usually write on Sundays when my husband goes out to American Football training but I’ve been getting no time to myself and I just can’t find the motivation.

It feels like I’m letting everyone down waiting for the next chapter but then when I’m writing it, I’ll constantly be thinking ‘what if no one reads it or they read it and they don’t like it?’. I then stress myself out and lose all motivation but then I’ll be in a never ending loop of feeling like my work isn’t good and that I’m letting people down by not posting anything, alternating between the two constantly. I’m just so exhausted from pretending I’m ok and everything’s alright.

Hubby and I are still both working from home, in the same room, for ten hours a day which is taking its toll on me, not having any ‘me time’ away from him. It sounds awful, I know, but I’m ready for him to go back to the office, just so we aren’t together 24/7 which isn’t healthy.

I’ve also had some issues in my personal life lately and I ended up in a really bad place. The issues are not something I’m proud of at all but I’m slowly working through them to get better.

For a long time, I didn’t talk to anybody about how I was feeling and the thoughts I had spiralled out of control and my thoughts got so low and I felt so unhappy that I couldn’t see a way out, thinking it would be so easy to just do something to not be here. I just feel like I’m letting everyone down. My hubby mainly, for various reasons.

But also you guys as well because I’ve not been updating my fics on a regular basis but that’s something else I’ve been struggling with. I don’t have high self esteem at all and have thoughts that my fics are not very good and I worry that people will then lose interest if I’m not updating regularly.

I also haven’t been playing choices as much as the books just aren’t holding my interest and at one point I was just playing them to get the diamonds. I signed up for VIP for a few months to play ‘My Two First Loves’ but other than that I haven’t really played a book since I finished that one. Maybe I’ll go back and replay some of the older books to see if I can get back the love for the game.

I’m not loads better, but I’m slowly getting there. I’ve started going to the gym every day, just to get out of the house and I’ve been reading my books a lot lately (I currently have over 500 to read but can’t help buying more 😂) which has helped.

I’m hoping to be able to get back into writing shortly, maybe doing some one shots until I can get my head into the right space in order to continue my series. Anyway, sorry for rambling on. I’ve probably bored you all to tears 😂.

As it’s been so long, I’m updating my tag lists. If anyone wants to be removed, because I‘ve not been posting a lot, just let me know. I’m also thinking about posting on AO3 as well as I don’t know how active the fandom is on here anymore. If anyone wants to follow me on there, my username is rainbowsinthestorm

@sawyeroakleyscowboyhat @larryssunflower @silviasutton1989 @leelee10898 @agent-bossypants @mrsdrakewalkerblog @andy-loves-corgis @katurrade @drakewalkerisreal @whenyourheartskipsabeat @furiousherringoperatortoad @ladyangel70 @mfackenthal @xxrainbow-princessxx @kingliam2019 @kinkykingliam

Permanent tag list: @blubutterflyy @texaskitten30 @indiacater @liamxs-world

#long post #not choices

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junghelioseok · 3 years

Text

heart-on.

↳ your one-night stand definitely isn’t relationship material, but maybe—just maybe—your manager’s son is.

◇ hoseok x reader ◇ smut | strangers to lovers!au ◇ 10.1k [1/1]

❛❛ my boss is always telling me how perfect her son would be for me and she promises he’s coming to the next holiday party and don’t worry he’s heard all about me too and ALSO there’s this dude i slept with once a couple of months ago and sometimes he still sends me dick pics when i ask him to at 3 in the morning cause seriously dude’s got a good dick ❜❜

notes: welcome to the first installment of the serendipity series! we’re starting with hoseok, because, well, have you met me? 🤣 be warned, however, that this isn’t anywhere near as edited as i’d like so i’ll probably give it another read/edit tomorrow but for now!!! here it is!!!

⇢ series masterlist. | inspired by this post.

warnings: dirty talk bc hoseok’s got a bit of a mouth on him, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, kids!), sexting. dick pics, obvi. brief mention of a dead pet goldfish :(

You’re refilling your mug when you hear it. Voices filter out from the kitchen, floating past the coffee station where you’re pouring yourself another drink and hanging in the open air of the hallway that leads back to the rest of the office. They’re familiar voices, too—voices that belong to the resident gossips of your workplace. Lottie’s pitchy, nasal tone melds with Hyejin’s higher one, their conversation interrupted every so often by an exaggerated exclamation or gasp from Sandra, the third and final member of their trio.

“Haven’t you heard? Carolyn’s divorce was finalized over the weekend, the poor thing.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine how she’s feeling. I mean, getting back into dating at her age? Goodness!”

“And now she’ll be all alone at the holiday party, too. How sad is that?”

“It’s tragic. Poor thing.”

Rolling your eyes, you grab a packet of sugar and tear it open, upending it over your mug and watching the crystalline granules fall into the dark liquid within. You know for a fact that Sandra and her husband can’t even stand to be in the same room for an extended period of time, considering how they’d spent most of last year’s holiday party talking to entirely different groups of people. You’d sat two tables away from them during dinner, and they hadn’t even made eye contact once. And as for Lottie and Hyejin, well, you’re certain that their relationships aren’t much better. All three of them are miserable people as far as you’re concerned, and you make a mental note to check in on Carolyn—a sweet woman in her thirties who always keeps chocolate bars in her purse—on your way back to your desk.

“Sheesh. Vultures, the lot of them. Don’t you think?”

You whirl at the sound of your manager’s voice. Kyunghee Jung is a dark-haired woman in her late fifties, and she laughs when she sees your startled expression, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Easy! You’ll spill your coffee if you’re not careful.”

“I’ll probably have a heart attack first,” you reply, pressing a hand to your chest. “What was your job before this? Some kind of intelligence operative? Are you a super spy?”

Kyunghee laughs again and joins you at the counter. “Nothing even remotely as exciting as that,” she answers, plopping her mug down beside yours. It’s decorated with what looks like every color of the rainbow, a massive smiling sunflower taking up the majority of the surface, and the only remnant of the ceramic’s original color is on the very edge of the handle where there’s a lopsided little patch of white. The piece is clearly handmade, and a stark contrast to the simple mint green cup that houses your coffee. Looking at it, it’s impossible not to smile.

“I love that,” you remark, inclining your head at her mug. “Was it a present from one of your kids?”

“Hoseok,” she confirms, running a fingertip along the imperfect handle fondly. “I’ve told you about him before—he’s right around your age.”

You chuckle. “Right, I remember. That’s why he’s the perfect match for me, right?”

“Come now, there’s more to it than that,” Kyunghee defends, waving a hand. “But yes, to answer your question. He gave it to me as a birthday present when he was eight.”

“Well, you never told me he was an artist,” you tease. “Does he have an Etsy? Can I buy one of these off him? Does he do custom orders, maybe?”

Normally, your manager is more than happy to play along with your jokes, but today Kyunghee fixes you with an uncharacteristically serious look. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?” she asks. “He’s coming to the holiday party, after all. I figured you could finally meet.”

You blink. Kyunghee has been making offhand remarks about how well you would get on with her son, Hoseok, for over a year now, but you’ve never even come close to broaching the topic of meeting him. You don’t even know anything about the man beyond the fact that his name is Hoseok and that he works somewhere downtown. He also favors tall socks and yellow suspenders if the framed photograph on Kyunghee’s desk is any indication—or at least, he certainly did when he was still in diapers. Whether he still does, is anyone’s guess.

“Wow, I had no idea he was even interested in coming,” you manage when you’ve recovered from your surprise. “Did you bribe him?”

If Kyunghee notices that your voice is a few pitches higher than usual, she doesn’t remark on it. “Oh, you know. I just told him that this would be his last chance to score free booze on the company’s dime.” She laughs. “Three more months and it’s going to be all beaches and sunshine for me. I might even become a cruise person in my retirement.”

You gasp and slap a hand to your heart. “Kyunghee! Think of the environmental impact!”

“I said I might!” she retorts immediately. “Sheesh. Even in my old age, it’s hard to conveniently forget how shitty and unsustainable those damn boats are.”

You pick up your mug and raise it in a salute. “Well, the oceans thank you.”

“My husband doesn’t,” she answers with a sigh. “He’s been dying to book one of those trips that stop all along the Mediterrannean coastline, and I can’t exactly blame him.”

“That is tempting,” you admit. “You’ll have to send photos, if you do end up going.”

“You’ll be sick of me and my photos before the first day is even up,” she promises. Then she pauses, her eyes darting toward the kitchen where silence has fallen in the last few minutes. “Speaking of being sick—you think the vultures are still hovering around in there? I haven’t had lunch yet, and I need the microwave.”

Obligingly, you edge a little closer to the kitchen doorway and poke your head around the frame, scanning for Lottie and her sidekicks. “Coast is clear. Enjoy your lunch, Kyunghee.”

She nods and raises her mug at you, returning your salute. “I always do.”

///

As soon as the work day ends, you fall into your usual routine. Your commute home is easily walkable on nicer days, and though the winter weather is brisker than you’d like, you decide to walk for the sake of stopping at the convenience store on the corner of the block.

Once you arrive back at your apartment, you change into your comfiest sweats and a loose tee. You turn on some music while you throw together some dinner, and settle onto the couch half an hour later with a full plate and Netflix. Television is a welcome distraction from the events of the workday, and you manage to get through three full episodes of your current show before your pesky brain decides to revisit the events of today, replaying the conversations that you’d both had and overheard.

There’s no denying that you’ve been single for quite some time now, and for the most part, it’s been by choice. Ever since graduating from university, you’ve chosen to focus more on your career, and it’s paid off both in terms of the important position you hold in your company and your above average salary. And yet, you can’t help but think back to the gossip you’d overheard earlier—about the supposed tragedy of being single and attending the upcoming holiday party alone. Your mind wanders to Kyunghee’s son, Hoseok, and how he’ll be in attendance this year. You wonder what he’s like, and whether he really is perfect for you, as Kyunghee seems to be so fond of mentioning.

And then your mind goes to Jay.

You met Jay two months ago, on a well-deserved night out after a hellish workweek. The bar was crowded, and the music coming from the neon dancefloor in the back was just loud enough to drown out your inhibitions. That, combined with the alcohol swimming through your system, made you bold. You sashayed your way across the dancefloor, dodging inebriated bodies and swaying limbs as you fixed your attention on the head of pale lavender hair and deliciously broad shoulders that awaits you just behind the bar counter. The bartender is nothing short of gorgeous, and you’ve thrown all caution to the wind. Sure, several other women are eyeing him like he’s their next meal—several men are, too—but you need another drink. And while he prepares it, you plan to flirt.

A lot.

The bar counter is sticky with spilled liquor, but you don’t pay that any mind as you lean across it, the wood digging into the narrow strip of exposed skin left by your cropped top. “Hi!” you call, and the bartender looks up from where he’s just finished pouring a round of shots for a group of raucous young men.

“Hi yourself,” he says, his pillowy lips stretching into an easy smile. “What can I get you?”

You pretend not to notice the way his eyes flicker down to the dip of your cleavage and instead put on the sultriest smile you are capable of mustering. “Vodka soda,” you tell him, injecting a bit of purr into your voice. “A bit of lemon too, if you have it.”

“Trust me, I have it,” he assures, his smile growing as he reaches for a clean glass and a clear bottle. “Name’s Jin, by the way. I’m here all night, if you need anything e—”

A loud clatter and the sound of breaking glass interrupts the rest of his sentence, and all eyes at the bar go to the source of the disturbance. Conversations stutter to a halt, and even the thumping bass of the music seems to dull. Jin darts to the other end of the bar, where you can see that one of several barstools has fallen to the ground. There’s a man on the ground as well, surrounded by shattered glass and spilled dark liquor, and your eyes widen when you realize that you know him.

And arguably, a little too well.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. People are starting to lose interest in the spectacle, turning back to their own conversations and continuing on as if nothing had happened at all. The man is beginning to clamber to his feet, and a few people lend a helping hand as Jin begins barking out orders for everyone to step back so he can sweep up the broken glass. You seize upon the opportunity, latching on to the nearest arm and pulling them close so you can hide behind them. Vaguely, you’re aware of them sputtering in surprise, but you only have eyes for the man who had fallen off his stool, watching him carefully as he brushes himself off and tries to play it cool despite the sizable patch of whiskey soaking his white shirt.

“Hey, uh…” Your human shield is speaking. “Are you okay? You’re squeezing me pretty tight.”

That draws you out of your daze. Abashed, you loosen your grip on his arm and look up into his face, your throat going dry when you realize how handsome he is. His black hair is parted over his forehead, a stray strand falling into warm brown eyes set above a straight nose and an inviting mouth. There’s a freckle above his top lip, just shy of the center, and your inebriated brain wonders just what it would be like to kiss it.

“I, um—” You clear your throat and try again. “Sorry about that. I just didn’t want him to see me.”

Your newfound companion raises an eyebrow and glances over his shoulder at the drunk man, who is now being ushered out of the bar by his buddies. “You know that guy?”

You nod, cringing. “Yeah, his name’s Trent. I… may or may not have dated him for a few months last year.”

The man laughs out loud. “You dated a Trent?”

“What, like you’ve never made a questionable life choice?” you challenge. “Besides, you shouldn’t judge someone based on the sins of their parents. It’s not his fault they gave him a terrible name.”

“Sure, but it is on him for going along with it,” he replies with a shrug. “I would’ve changed my name as soon as I could if my parents had named me Trent. But hey, that’s just one man’s opinion.”

You laugh. “Okay then, Not-Trent.” Relinquishing your grip on his arm, you let your fingers graze his hand before pulling away entirely. “What do you say we continue this conversation over a drink?”

The man, whose name is decidedly not Trent, catches your fingers in his and gives them a gentle squeeze. “Happily.”

One drink turns into two, and then three. By the end of the hour, you are feeling pleasantly warm, the alcohol spreading through your veins like molasses and turning your surroundings into a hazy blur. The music has grown even louder, pounding against your eardrums, and you grab onto Not-Trent’s wrist as he sets his now-empty glass back down onto the counter.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” you ask, raising your voice to be heard over the thumping bassline. “I can’t even hear myself think.”

“The parking lot’s out back,” he suggests. “Why don’t we get some air?”

You nod and stand up on wobbly legs, cursing your decision to wear heels when you stumble into your companion. He steadies you with a gentle but firm hand, and you don’t miss the way his touch lingers on your lower back, his palm warm through the material of your blouse.

Together, the two of you pick your way through the throng of swaying bodies on the dancefloor. The bassline thuds in your ears, dark and hypnotic, and you can feel the reverberations thrumming across the slats of your ribs and echoing in the cavern of your chest like a second heartbeat.

It’s almost a relief, then, when you step out into the cool night air. Your ears continue to ring for a few seconds, but it soon fades and leaves behind only the muted hum of traffic from the street and the faint sound of music from inside. At your side, Not-Trent releases a long breath and leans against the brick wall of the building, and you turn to take in the steep slopes of his side profile as he tilts his head up toward the velvety night sky.

He’s handsome. Dressed in ripped jeans and black leather, he’s a sight to behold, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been craving a bit of intimacy for quite some time now. The alcohol swimming through your system makes you bolder than you normally would be, and you reach out to lay a hand on his arm. He turns toward you with a silent question glimmering in his irises, but you simply step closer, until you’re pinning him against the wall with your body and you’re breathing the same air.

“Hey,” you say, your voice an airy whisper. His eyes are near obsidian in the dimness of the parking lot, illuminated only by the orange glow of the streetlamps on either end, and your gaze flickers down to his mouth before roving to the freckle that sits upon his top lip. “Kiss me?”

Your companion’s eyes widen. His lips part, but no words come out, and you’re about to repeat your question when he finally finds his voice again.

“That’s really… that’s not a good idea.” Awkwardly, he clears his throat, but the hoarseness of his voice and the harsh bob of his Adam’s apple give away his true desires. “Look, you’ve been drinking. We both have, and—”

You cut him off, pushing up to your tiptoes and planting a messy kiss to the soft dip just beneath his bottom lip. “Don’t care,” you mumble against his skin. “I want you.”

Your companion laughs weakly. His hands find their way to your waist and pause there, as if he can’t decide whether to push you away or pull you closer. “You don’t even know me,” he murmurs.

“I don’t have to know you,” you reply. Your fingers drag down his chest, trailing along the delicate silver necklace that rests against the black of his shirt. From the chain hangs a round pendant, the surface engraved with the letter J. Slowly, you trace it with a fingertip, the metal shining even in the dim light, and satisfaction blooms in your heart when your companion’s throat bobs again. “I want you,” you breathe, soft but insistent. “Isn’t that enough?”

“I—” He clears his throat and tries again, and you wonder if he realizes that his hands have slid down to your hips, or that there’s a growing hardness against your lower stomach that’s becoming increasingly harder to ignore. “Look, I’m flattered—really, I am. And you’re… I mean, fuck, you’re gorgeous. But I don’t think we should do anything when you’re clearly not in the right frame of mind to be making this kind of decision, and—”

“And, nothing.” You wind your arms around his neck, pressing close and grinding subtly against the bulge in his pants. You smirk when he releases a low hiss from between his teeth, and hide it by laying a trail of kisses along the stretch of bare skin exposed by the dip of his collar. “Stop being such a gentleman,” you whisper. Your fingers trail down his chest, past the silver of his pendant and down to the faded denim of his jeans, teasing at the cool metal of his belt buckle. “I want this. But if you’re not interested, I can always go back in there and—”

The rest of your sentence dies in your throat. Your companion has tugged you flush against him in one smooth motion, and your gasp is cut off by the firm press of his mouth against yours. Immediately, you melt into the kiss, and a moan tears from your lips when he spins you around and pins you against the brick wall of the building.

“You’re a spoiled little thing, huh?” His breath fans hot against your cheeks, and you shiver when you meet his eyes and see the dark promise reflected there. “Used to getting what you want, huh, princess?”

Your breath hitches at the endearment—something your companion doesn’t miss. “Oh, you like that?” He chuckles hoarsely, and when he speaks again it’s in a rasp that sends heat straight to your core. “What else do you like, hmm? You want me to be rough with you, princess? Or should I be gentle and treat you like a queen?”

You reach up, raking your fingers through his hair and skimming across the soft strands of his undercut before finding purchase at his nape. “You talk too much,” you whisper.

And then you’re crushing your mouth back against his, whining when he immediately takes back control of the kiss. His grip slides downward, his fingertips digging into the skin just above the curve of your ass, and you squeak when he grabs the back of your thigh and hooks your leg around his waist.

“You feel that?” he rasps into your ear, nipping at the delicate shell and chortling when you keen. Your skirt has ridden up dangerously high on your spread thighs, and you let out a soft whimper when he grinds harshly against your center. The lace of your panties and the denim of his jeans are the last barricades between you, and you wonder, vaguely, whether your companion has a bit of an exhibitionist streak when he slides one of your sleeves down your shoulder and begins kissing a trail down to the swell of your cleavage. “You feel how hard you’ve gotten me?”

You lean down, kissing the soft spot where his jaw meets his ear before letting your teeth graze against his skin. “Why don’t you do something about it then?”

He hisses out a sharp breath, his hands tightening their hold on your hips. “You’ve got quite the mouth on you, huh? I can’t wait to make you eat your words.”

Any retort you may have had is interrupted by a sudden swell of music and the sound of a slamming door. Whirling to face the source of the noise, you immediately spot a familiar head of lavender hair atop broad shoulders encapsulated in the black uniform of the bar. Jin hasn’t noticed the two of you yet, his attention fixated on his cell phone screen, but he looks up when you let out a little squeak of surprise and shove your companion’s chest in an attempt to create some distance between you.

“Hey.” Jin raises a hand in greeting, a knowing smirk curling his lips. “This phone call shouldn’t be too long, so please. Don’t stop the party on my behalf.”

Heat floods to your cheeks. There isn’t much use protesting against his insinuation, considering the rather compromising position you’re in. Much to your relief, though, your companion simply huffs out a chuckle and waves Jin off. “Thanks, man, but we’ll get out of your hair.” Lowering his voice, he turns back to you. “Coming, princess?”

You nod. He offers you his hand, and you take it gratefully, adjusting your skirt so that it drapes properly over your hips and thighs again.

“Have a good night!” Jin calls after you, amusement lacing every word. You can’t work up the nerve to respond, and luckily, you don’t have to. Your companion leads you around the corner of the building, where several rows of cars are parked beneath an orange streetlamp. On this side, the exterior brick wall is painted with a mural, and you admire the colorful galaxies and nebulae swirling amidst silvery white stars and the word serendipity spray-painted in pale blue.

The last car in the row is parked just beneath the letter Y, and it’s here that your companion stops. The sleek black vehicle has an almost vintage feel to it, and you glance up when you hear the jingle of metal.

“I’m guessing this is yours?”

He nods, pulling a set of keys from the pocket of his leather jacket and inserting one into the lock. “Yeah. You like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” you tell him, tracing the edge of the passenger window “Makes my car look like a total piece of shit by comparison.”

Your companion chuckles, pulling open the driver’s side door, and you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the window as he presses a button to unlock the rest of the doors. Your hair’s a bit of a mess and your mascara has smudged beneath your right eye, and you hurriedly swipe at it as your companion turns his attention back to you.

“So,” he says. “Now what? I can give you a ride home, if you want.”

Deliberately, you let your gaze drop down to his crotch, where his bulge—albeit waning—is still visible. “Seriously? I thought you were going to… what was it again? Make me eat my words?”

And just like that, it’s as if a switch has flipped. His eyes darken to obsidian, his lips settling into a stern line, and you barely have time to draw in a breath before he’s caging you against the side of his car and molding his mouth to yours. Your lips part beneath the onslaught, and he wastes no time in dipping inside to explore, licking into you until you’re both breathless.

“Inside,” he breathes once you’ve broken apart, and you instantly obey. You wrench the door open and all but tumble into the backseat, and he isn’t far behind as he slots himself between your spread thighs. Your hands fly to his shoulders where you help him shuck off his leather jacket, tossing it carelessly to the front where it lands in a heap on the dashboard before focusing your attention on the hem of his black t-shirt. Your companion obliges you as you push it upward to expose his toned abdomen, grabbing it by the collar and pulling it off the rest of the way when your reach falls a little short in the cramped interior of the backseat.

“Your turn,” he whispers when you try to reach for his belt, his hands settling around your wrists. “It’s only fair, princess.”

Pouting, you let your hands fall limp in his grasp, and he chuckles as he leans down to pacify you with a kiss. Deft fingers find the hem of your blouse, pushing it up until you can twist out of the material. You throw it aside with no regard for where it lands on the ground, and lay back as your companion drinks you in, his dark gaze raking across the lacy black lingerie that decorates your curves and skims you like a second skin. “Fuck,” he breathes, his voice hoarse with a combination of amazement and disbelief. “You’re stunning.”

You smile, trailing a fingertip from the dip of his collarbone down to the silver necklace that sits prettily against his bare chest. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you tell him, tracing the letter engraved into his pendant. “Jay.”

Your companion—newly dubbed Jay—smiles back. “You’re something else, princess,” he murmurs, before leaning down to kiss you again. He explores your mouth thoroughly—languidly—before moving down to nip at your neck, and already, you can feel the beginnings of marks beginning to form, blossoming across your skin as irrefutable proof of your tryst.

It isn’t long before Jay frees you from your bra, watching with carnal fascination as your breasts spill out of the lacy material. You whine when he reaches out to cup one, his palm hot against your bare skin, and he smirks crookedly when a pinch to your nipple makes your back arch off the leather of the seat. “So pretty,” he rasps. “I can’t wait to see how you look stretched around my cock.”

“Stop waiting, then,” you tell him, trying again for his belt buckle. This time, he lets you fumble it open, leaning back to watch you work with hooded eyes and a lazy little smile. Emboldened, you push aside the denim of his jeans and free his cock from the confines of his underwear. He’s hard and hot and heavy in your palm, and your tongue darts out instinctively at the sight of the pearlescent precum beading the tip.

“Jay,” you murmur, thumbing across the head of his erection and smirking when he hisses in pleasure. “Fuck me.”

Jay seems to consider your demand, mischief flitting across his features before he manages to school his expression into something more neutral. “Where are your manners, princess?” he asks, pushing your hand away and giving himself a few long, slow strokes. “Say please, if you want it so bad.”

For a moment, you consider refusing. Jay seems to be the type of man who enjoys a good game, but between the state of his cock and the earlier interruption, you’re pretty sure he’s nearing his limit. And even if he isn’t, you are. And so, you shelve your pride for the time being, and trail a hand down the length of your bared body as you bat your lashes up at him. “Fuck me, Jay,” you repeat. “Please. Want your cock so bad.”

His answering smile is equal parts amusement and satisfaction, and altogether sinful. “That’s my girl,” he rasps, before shoving your panties aside. Lining the head of his cock up, he enters you in one smooth thrust, and you moan as your walls stretch to accommodate his girth. You’re more than wet enough to take him in his entirety, your eyes fluttering shut when he bottoms out, and he groans hoarsely as he takes a second to relish the feeling of your walls gripping him so tightly.

“Fuck. You’re so wet, princess.” Jay dips a thumb into your slick, spreading it across your clit and rubbing a few experimental circles around the sensitive nub. He groans when you clench around him, his hips stuttering, and you squeeze around him again just to hear him grit out another curse. “Shit. I’m not going to last long at this rate.”

“Don’t care,” you murmur, rocking against him and sighing when the motion sends him a little deeper into your core. “Just fuck me, Jay. Please.”

Jay leans in, a dark lock of hair falling across his forehead as he plants an indulgent kiss on your waiting mouth. “Anything for you, princess,” he breathes. Slowly, he pulls back until only the tip of his cock remains inside you. Then he’s slamming forward, and you can’t even find it in yourself to care about the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin or the way the car rocks. Jay’s thumbing across your clit in tight circles that he times perfectly with the rock of his hips, and you wonder whether the rapidly building pleasure in your belly is due to your dry spell or if he’s just that good. You can feel every inch of him as he fills you up repeatedly, his brows furrowed in concentration and his dark hair flopping as he drives deeper in search of the spot that will have you seeing stars.

You know he’s found it when the pleasure in your belly spikes, your back arching off the backseat. Your skin is sticky against the dark leather and you’re certain the sweat gathering at your temples has destroyed the last of your makeup, but Jay alleviates your concerns with a particularly well-timed thrust and a harsh nip to the soft spot at your clavicle. You keen out something unintelligible, and his lips stretch into a smirk against your skin.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “Cum for me, princess.”

That’s all it takes for the mounting pressure to snap. Your body collapses into a searing orgasm, the pleasure flaring out like a supernova and spreading through your veins like wildfire. “F-fuck, Jay—” you gasp, your fingers scrabbling at his back for purchase and no doubt leaving scratches in their wake. “Fuck, you feel so—”

The remainder of your words trail off into garbled nonsense, and Jay huffs out a strained chuckle as he begins chasing after his own orgasm, rutting against you in a way that both prolongs your pleasure and sustains his own. “Shit,” he groans, his eyes fluttering shut. “Fuck, that’s it. Look at you—taking my cock so well. So pretty and perfect and—”

Whatever he was going to say dissolves into a groan as he gives a few more erratic thrusts before his release overwhelms him. Creamy warmth floods through you, and you rub his back tiredly as his head drops onto your shoulder, his breath flaring hot against your skin as he rides out his orgasm.

It takes several long seconds for the pleasure to recede. Your legs are still shaky when Jay pulls away, straightening up and tucking himself back into his jeans. There’s an empty ache in your core now that you are no longer stuffed full of his cock, and already, you are missing the feeling. Still, you push that aside as you sit up, adjusting your panties and wincing at the wetness that soaks the material and sticks to your skin.

“So,” Jay says after a moment’s silence, and you glance over at him when he huffs out a short chuckle. “That was fun.”

“Not bad at all,” you agree weakly, an irrepressible smile tugging at your lips.

Jay grins. It’s a bright, infectious grin—and it’s one that you’ve already grown rather fond of in the short period of time you’ve known him. It’s a grin that showcases his perfect teeth and crinkles his eyes into crescents, and one that all but forces you to grin back.

“Here, give me your phone,” he says, and you watch as he punches in his number once you hand it over. “Just in case you ever wanna do this again,” he tells you, handing it back. “Don’t be a stranger, princess.”

You glance down at his contact information, saved under the moniker you’d given him and affixed with a short string of emojis. “I won’t,” you tell him, chuckling. “In fact, I just might take you up on the offer.”

The screen of your laptop has long since gone dark, and you stretch your arms overhead before waking it again. Rolling your shoulders, you navigate back to the main Netflix menu, hovering over the resume button and watching the trailer loop in the background.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about Jay often. You’ve texted each other quite often since that night in his car—usually when you’re bored and alone and have had a few too many glasses of wine in the evenings. You’ve found yourself tapping on his name instinctively during those odd, ambiguous hours—when late night and early morning meld together and you’re aching for a bit of relief.

And as if he knows you’re thinking about him, your phone buzzes against the coffee table, the screen lighting up with a familiar name.

[11:22pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinkin about u, pretty girl 😘

It’s followed by an image, and your heart rate picks up, thudding loudly against your ribs as you open it.

Fuck.

Your memories of Jay’s face—made all the more hazy by the alcohol and the amount of time elapsed since your first and only meeting—truly don’t do him justice. Though the photograph cuts off just above his nose, you can still admire the sharp angle of his jaw and the fullness of his puckered lips. His skin is golden against the white of his t-shirt, and you lick your lips before thumbing across your screen to respond.

[11:23pm] You: yeah? what else are you thinking about, hmm?

His response is instantaneous.

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinking about that pretty little pussy of yours

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: how good it looked in that pic u sent me tuesday 👅

You barely even notice the way your hand begins trailing down your body, pushing aside the elastic waistband of your sweats. It’s as if you’re on autopilot, as your fingers find their way to the damp spot growing on your panties.

Yeah? you write back with your free hand, already teasing at your clothed folds with the other. Tell me more.

///

It’s an uncharacteristically warm Friday morning when you find yourself in the elevator with Jimin, a good friend of yours who works on one of the lower levels of your office building. “Morning,” he says as he steps in, a large iced coffee in hand despite the fact that it’s still very much the middle of winter. Then he squints, leaning a little closer. “Oh my god. You got laid!”

“Oh my god, not so loud!” you hiss, whacking him on the shoulder and jabbing the button to close the elevator doors. “And no, not exactly. I’ve just been texting Jay.”

“Texting, sure.” Jimin mimes air quotes around the word and rolls his eyes. “You’re sexting him, and we all know it. How many pictures of his dick do you have saved on your phone now?”

“Oh my—” You sigh, trailing off. “Can we not talk about this right now?”

“Right, of course.” Jimin takes a sip of his coffee and pretends to check his watch. “When would you like to talk about it then? Do you need to check your calendar? Can I book an appointment for later this afternoon?”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Shut up.”

Jimin just grins, his lips puckered around his straw. “So, how’s Jay? Have you asked for his real name yet?”

You shrug. “What’s the point? It’s not like we’re friends or anything. We’ve literally only met the one time.”

“Yeah, but that’s just because you’re a coward,” Jimin points out. “What’s stopping you from meeting up with him again? You have his number. You have at least one photo of his dick. Ask him out already!”

“It’s not that easy, though,” you sigh. The elevator doors open to let a few more people in, and you move to the side and lower your voice so that only Jimin can hear. “Jay—he’s not exactly boyfriend material. I mean, we fucked in his car the first night we met.”

“So?” Jimin frowns and takes another sip of his iced coffee. “You talk about things besides sex, don’t you? You definitely told him about your goldfish dying, at least. I mean, you told him before you even told me!”

“Yes I did, and he was appropriately sympathetic about Mustache’s passing, unlike some people,” you sniff. “Get over it already, won’t you?”

“Never,” Jimin replies, ignoring your pointed jab. “I’m sure you only told him because you knew you could get a sympathy sext out of it. How many dick pics did you get out of that night, anyway?”

“You’re gross,” you tell him, punching him in the arm. “Not to mention that’s exactly why Jay’s not boyfriend material. He’s perfectly happy with—whatever it is we’re doing. I can’t just ruin that by asking him to get dinner.” You frown, gnawing on your bottom lip. “I don’t want to make this into something that it’s not.”

Jimin hesitates. “Fine, okay. I guess I can understand that.”

“Yeah.”

There’s a pause, as the elevator makes a few more stops. You watch the numbers crawl higher, and know that you’ll soon have to part ways with your friend..

“Hey.” You nudge Jimin with your shoulder, just as the elevator doors close and you begin the ascent to his floor. “Wanna know something interesting?”

Jimin looks up from his phone, where he’s scrolling through Twitter. “Always.”

“My boss’ son is coming to the party tomorrow.”

Jimin’s eyebrows disappear into his ashy blond hair at your revelation. “Kyunghee’s son? Hoseok, or whatever?”

You chuckle. “The one and only. She’s found about a million ways to bring him up in conversation this past week. She thinks we’re a match made in heaven.”

“Wow.” Jimin releases a long breath. “I wonder what he’s like, then.”

You shrug, adjusting the strap of your work tote over your shoulder. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

///

The morning of the party, you wake up to an empty refrigerator. Half stale cereal and the last dregs of milk from the carton become your breakfast, and you munch on that as you mull over the contents of your closet. You’re still in your pajamas, but you pull out your comfiest jeans and a sweater to change into after you finish eating. Then you turn to your collection of dresses, rifling through them and mentally debating the merits of each material and color.

You could go in one of two directions tonight. On the one hand, this is still a work party, and as such your attire should probably maintain a certain level of decorum. But on the other, you’re meeting Hoseok Jung for the first time tonight. You aren’t necessarily looking to start anything with the man, of course, but you do want to look good. With that in mind, you eventually settle on a deep red number that you pull out of the very back of your closet, made of a silky material that skims your curves and accentuates your best assets. Laying it on the bed, you begin your hunt for a pair of matching shoes. Twenty minutes of searching and another five of agonizing later, you step into the bathroom, intent on showering and getting on with the rest of your day.

Upon exiting the bathroom, you decide that tackling the state of your refrigerator takes top priority over your other weekend errands. Sitting down at the dining table, you take stock of what you have in your pantry, planning out your meals for the upcoming week and making a list of what you need to purchase in order to make them a reality. It’s just after one in the afternoon when you exit your apartment with a completed grocery list and your purse stuffed full of reusable canvas bags. The store is a short walk from where you live, and you decide to put in your earbuds as your feet navigate the familiar route. The temperature is surprisingly mild for winter, and the sun shines bright from its perch in the cloudless blue sky. It’s perfect weather for a walk, and the fresh air clears your mind and eases your heart.

At the grocery store, you forego the stack of baskets and instead grab a shopping cart. Weaving your way up and down the aisles, you check items off the list on your phone one by one. Eventually, you find yourself in the cereal section, grabbing a box of granola before turning to where your favorite cereal normally sits. It isn’t there, and you turn in a full circle, confused, until your gaze finally lands on the familiar box on the top shelf.

Great.

Sighing, you push up to your tiptoes, stretching your arm as far as it can reach. Your fingertips graze the shelf, but you can’t quite get a grip on the box itself. Glancing down, you scan the bottommost shelf and wonder if you can step on it to give yourself a boost.

“Need a hand?”

The voice comes from behind you, and a vague sense of familiarity sparks in your brain. Slowly, you turn around, and your entire body freezes when your gaze slides up to the speaker’s face.

“Jay.” The syllable escapes you in a near whisper. “H-hi.”

“Hey.”

Jay stands before you, looking like sin incarnate in a faded denim jacket, black sweatpants slung low on his hips, and not much else. At his throat, his silver necklace sparkles, the silver J pendant glinting beneath the fluorescent lights of the store, and you’re suddenly beyond grateful that you decided to put on a decent sweater before leaving.

“Here,” he says, stepping forward until he’s close enough that you can smell his cologne—sandalwood tinged with sweet citrus. “Let me help you with that.”

The sudden proximity has your breath hitching in your throat. Your heart thuds erratically against your ribs as he reaches around you, the denim flaps of his jacket gaping in a way that exposes even more of his bare chest. By the time he pulls back with your cereal box in hand, you feel almost faint, belatedly realizing that you’d been holding your breath.

“You wanted this, right?” Jay asks, and you aren’t sure if you’re imagining the innuendo underlying his words or the teasing inflection of the syllables.

“Y-yeah, that’s the one,” you manage, fighting to quell the uneven tempo of your heartbeat as you accept the box. “Thanks.”

“Happy to help,” he replies. Then he leans in, close enough that you can feel his warm breath fanning your cheek as he murmurs his next sentence into your ear. “Anything for you, princess. You know that.”

Heat floods across your cheeks. Your heart skips two full beats before taking off into a sprint, and it’s impossible to ignore the way your core begins to thrum, as if anticipating a repeat of that night you first met all those weeks ago. Almost instinctively, your eyes dart up to the ceiling where the security cameras are, and Jay follows the trajectory of your gaze with a low chuckle and a soft brush of your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Sorry, princess. As much as I’d love to get my hands on you, I’m kind of on a time crunch today.”

You can’t stop the wave of disappointment that washes over you, even if you’re in the exact same boat. “Rain check, then?”

��Rain check,” he agrees. Slowly, you reach up to touch the engraved silver pendant resting against his chest, rubbing it between your fingertips before tracing the curve of the J, and he catches your wandering fingers between his and presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“You know how to reach me,” he murmurs with a mischievous wink. His gaze lingers even after he’s released your hand, and you clear your throat awkwardly before turning to deposit your cereal box into your shopping cart.

The two of you go your separate ways then, exchanging goodbyes. You finish the rest of your grocery shopping in a daze, idly going through the motions at checkout and letting muscle memory guide you back home. Your arms are aching by the time you step past the threshold of your apartment, and you heave your shopping bags up onto the kitchen counter with a relieved sigh before returning to the entryway to toe off your shoes. You throw together a sandwich as you unpack your groceries, taking a big bite as you walk back to your bedroom to look at the dress you’ve picked out. Pacing over to the closet, you double-check your shoe choice. Briefly, you debate whether or not to wear flats instead of heels.

There are still a few hours left before you have to start getting ready, so you take the last of your sandwich back to the kitchen and whip up a smoothie to go with it. You scroll through your phone as you eat, browsing through the latest news headlines and scrolling through your social media accounts. Just before six o’clock, as the sun starts setting beyond the horizon and casting long shadows across your living room, you start getting changed. You snap a photo in the mirror once you’re dressed, pulling up Jimin’s name in your phone and sending it to him.

[6:13pm] You: last chance to come tonight

Your phone buzzes with a response almost immediately.

[6:14pm] Jimin: nah. i’d hate to step on hoseok’s toes.

You laugh. Not so fast, you text back. We don’t even know anything about the guy yet. What if he’s boring? Or sexist?

[6:15pm] Jimin: if u think kyunghee raised a sexist you’re seriously deranged

[6:16pm] Jimin: now stop taking selfies and get your ass out the door! you’re gonna be late!!!!

///

Each year, the holiday party tends to be a little over the top, and this year is no exception. The company has bought out the entirety of a restaurant for the evening, and you glance around in amazement at the twinkling lights and lush evergreen boughs decorating the walls and strung up along the ceiling. An assortment of sparkling ornaments hangs from the massive tree in the far corner, interspersed between silver tinsel and more lights. Grabbing a champagne flute off a passing server’s tray, you head farther into the restaurant, skirting around tables draped in creamy linen and greeting your colleagues and friends.

“Is she alone?”

“Figures.”

The voices come from the direction of the open bar, and somehow, you just know that they’re talking about you. Lottie, Hyejin, and Sandra are clustered in the corner with glasses of wine in hand, casting glances around the restaurant and gossiping about anything and everything with a pulse. You’re sorely tempted to grab the nearest pitcher of water off a table and pour it over their heads, but you suppress the urge and instead head over with a saccharine smile. “So lovely to see you, {Name},” Lottie says as you approach.

“I love your dress,” Sandra adds. “Very slimming.”

“Thanks,” you reply, putting on your brightest, fakest smile. “Yours is great too. How are you and your husband enjoying the party so far?”

Sandra’s face sours, and you hide your smirk in your champagne flute. Maybe it’s petty to bring up her rocky relationship, but you’ve been subject to snide comments from Sandra and her friends for years now and it’s become increasingly hard for you to bite your tongue. A few tables away, you spot Sandra’s husband, Rodney, take an enormous gulp of his whiskey and wince as it burns down his throat.

“We’re all having a wonderful time, aren’t we, ladies?” Lottie cuts in when Sandra takes too long to answer. “Hyejin’s date is over there with Rodney, and my boyfriend is fetching himself a drink. You remember Dev, don’t you?”

You nod, even though it’s a lie. “Sure. Say hi to him for me.”

Lottie’s lips curve up into a smile, her head tilting to the side, and you’re suddenly reminded of a snake rearing its head back for the kill. “So, what about you? Have you brought someone tonight, or—?”

“Hi ladies!” Kyunghee materializes at your side, her lips painted a festive red shade to match her dress. She’s wearing the disingenuous smile that she reserves for the resident gossips of your office, and you try not to let your relief show on your face when Lottie’s attention refocuses on your manager.

“So good to see you, Kyunghee,” she simpers. “Have you been here long?”

“Not as long as you,” your manager replies, nodding at the near-empty wineglass in her hand. “I see we’re already making a dent in the wine supply, and you’re falling behind, {Name}. Why don’t we go remedy that, hmm?”

She doesn’t give you a chance to respond, grabbing your arm and leading you away. Kyunghee is surprisingly spry for a woman her age, and you follow after her with some difficulty as she marches through the throngs of conversing people, all the way to the line at the open bar.

“I’d like you to meet someone,” she says, gesturing at the man standing at the end of the line with his back to you. “{Name}, this is my son, Hoseok.”

The man turns around at the sound of his name, a warm, affable smile stretched across his face. “Hi, I’m H—” he begins, but he’s cut off by your sharp intake of breath. His eyes go wide, his smile fading as his mouth falls open, and you’re certain you’re wearing an even more dumbfounded expression. “It’s you,” he says, his voice hoarse.

“Wh-what… how…” You trail off, speechless. The words flounder and die in your throat as your brain struggles to process this development, and you practically feel the way the gears in your head churn to a stuttering halt.

Because this man standing before you, the one that Kyunghee has just introduced as her son, is none other than Jay. He looks completely and utterly devastating in a navy waistcoat and matching slacks, a green tie shaped like a Christmas tree knotted loosely around the white collar of his shirt. His dark hair is parted, his undercut exposed, and you can’t tear your gaze away from the loose strand that has fallen across his forehead.

“H-hi.”

Jay—Hoseok—swallows. “Hi.”

Kyunghee glances between the two of you, her brows furrowing. “I take it you two already know each other?”

Hoseok’s ears begin taking on a scarlet tinge, the color spreading to his cheeks as he struggles to find his vocabulary again. “I—yeah. Yeah, we’ve met.”

“Right. Do I even want to know how?” she asks dubiously, before shaking her head and huffing out a sigh. “No, forget I asked. I don’t want to know. I’ll just leave you two to… catch up.”

Waving goodbye, Kyunghee disappears back into the crowd of partygoers milling around. Hoseok turns back to you, sucking in a deep breath, and you fight the urge to stare down at your toes as his gaze roves across your face.

“I can’t believe this,” he says, breaking the silence that’s fallen between you at last. “My mom’s been talking about you for months, but I never imagined that it’d be you.”

“You’re telling me,” you reply, finally having recovered your voice. “Kyunghee brings you up all the time, but I never thought… I mean, we didn’t even know each other’s names, and now…” You shrug. “Here we both are.”

“It’s a pretty crazy coincidence, huh?”

“Definitely.”

A beat passes, and then two. You’re fully aware that you’re staring, but you don’t dare blink, afraid that he’ll disappear if you close your eyes. Of all the things that you thought might happen tonight, this particular meeting wasn’t even close to making the list. Never would you have thought that the man you only knew as Jay would turn out to be Kyunghee’s son. Never would you have connected Jay to the photographed little boy in yellow suspenders on Kyunghee’s desk, or realized that they were one and the same.

From behind you, someone loudly clears their throat. Another voice calls for you to get a move on, already, and both you and Hoseok belatedly realize that you are still standing in line for the open bar. Hoseok’s eyes go wide again, and you nearly tread on his toes when you both try to move forward. “After you,” he says with a chuckle, gesturing for you to go in front of him, and that’s enough to break the tension. You step ahead of him with a laugh, catching up to the line, and Hoseok doesn’t stray far as he follows your lead.

“So, what are you drinking?” he asks, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Vodka soda with a twist?”

“Actually, I think I’m going to stick with wine tonight,” you reply, peering at the bottles lined up on the counter. “What about you?”

“Hmm. Jack and coke, I think. Nothing else is really calling my name right now.”

Grabbing your drinks, the two of you begin searching for a place to sit. You spot Kyunghee at a table near the front, and she smiles knowingly and offers you a thumbs-up when she catches your eye. Eventually, you settle on a table near the Christmas tree, the lights glimmering off the glasses and reflecting off your knife as you pick it up to butter a slice of crusty bread from the basket in the center. Hoseok follows your lead, grabbing a piece for himself, and the two of you munch in silence for a few seconds before Hoseok breaks it.

“You know, my mom says you’re the perfect girl for me” he says with a dry little chuckle. “Think she’s right?”

“I don’t know,” you answer. “It’s funny, though—Kyunghee’s been telling me the same thing. She sings your praises all the time.”

Hoseok laughs and scratches the back of his neck. “Oh, jeez, that’s kind of embarrassing. I’m glad she’s saying good things, at least.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” you tell him, grinning. “She’s only shown us one photo album from your childhood.”

His face crumples. “Was it the Disneyland one?”

You nod, fighting back laughter, and watch as Hoseok groans and lets his forehead meet the linen-covered tabletop with a dull thunk.

“I don’t like rollercoasters,” he mumbles into the tablecloth, his voice muffled by the material. “They make me queasy.”

“Even now?” you ask, and he nods.

“Yep.”

The clinking of a fork against a wineglass—amplified and broadcast through an array of invisible speakers built into the restaurant’s walls—interrupts any further conversation. You twist in your seat to watch your company’s leadership give their opening remarks, listening as they congratulate everyone for a great year and wish you a happy holiday season. The servers begin going out with plates of food, and you thank them as they set yours down. Hoseok does the same before raising his glass in your direction, clearing his throat and offering you a crooked little smile.

“Here’s to second meetings.”

“Third, if you count the store earlier,” you correct, and he chuckles and nods in agreement before clinking his drink against yours.

You spend the entirety of dinner chatting with Hoseok, getting to know him beyond the few facts Kyunghee has mentioned and what little you’ve gleaned from texting him the last two months. He tells you all about his dance studio, Hope World, where he teaches both contemporary dance and the occasional Pilates class. You find out that in addition to rollercoasters, he also dislikes sour foods and raisins, but he loves mint chocolate and sweet and sour pork. He also has a very low tolerance for alcohol—something he tells you as he tilts the rest of his drink into his mouth. “Should I be worried?” you ask as he sets his glass back down, and he chuckles and shakes his head, sending the loose tendril of hair flopping across his forehead.

Dessert is served, and subsequently eaten. The music is turned up, and people slowly begin finding their way to the open space that serves as an impromptu dancefloor. Hoseok rises to his feet and extends a hand toward you, and you only hesitate for the briefest of seconds before accepting it. He leads you out amongst the other swaying couples, his hand finding its way to the curve of your waist, and you rest your hand on his shoulder as he begins guiding you in a slow, simple waltz.

“So?” Hoseok’s voice is a low murmur, soft and gentle against the shell of your ear. “What’s the verdict?”

You blink. “The verdict?”

Even without looking, you can tell that he’s smiling. You can hear it in the lilt of his voice, and imagine it in the curve of his lips. “About me,” he clarifies, carefully pulling back so you can spin in a circle beneath his outstretched arm. “About us. My mom will never let me hear the end of it if she turns out to be right, but I still wanna know. So what are you thinking?”

“Are you asking if I think we’re perfect for each other?” you ask, giggling. “I don’t know if I believe in all that, to be quite honest. Destiny and soulmates—I mean, doesn’t it seem a little too good to be true?”

Hoseok hums. “Maybe. But considering all that’s happened to us in the last couple of months, don’t you think there’s a chance that it's all more than simple coincidence?”

“Maybe,” you concede. “Still, I don’t know if I can give you a verdict just yet. We haven’t even gone on a date.”

“We did do things a little backwards,” Hoseok admits, tugging you close and winding his arm around your waist. “Let me make it up to you, then. Are you free tomorrow?”

“What if I am?” you challenge.

“Then, I’d like to take you out for breakfast,” he replies without missing a beat.

The prospect of a proper meal with Hoseok Jung does something funny to your insides. Still, something makes you hesitate, and you avert your gaze as you search for your next words. “I wasn’t expecting to end tonight with a date,” you admit slowly. “I honestly didn’t even think you were interested in… well, anything beyond sex, to be honest.”

Hoseok’s face creases into a frown, and you look up again when he murmurs your name. “I understand why you would think that,” he says. “Really, I do. But honestly? I had every intention of texting you and asking you out properly. I was going to play it cool and wait a few days, which was stupid in retrospect. And then you texted me first.”

“I texted y—” You trail off. “Oh, god.”

“It seemed like you’d been drinking,” Hoseok says with a shrug, and you press a finger to his lips before he can say anything more. You remember the night in question, and you remember the bottle of wine you’d consumed. And you definitely remember the photographs you’d sent of yourself, and the ones Hoseok had been kind enough to send in return.

“Wait, so you were going to ask me out? And then I… I sexted you?”

Hoseok nods, and you groan and bury your face into his chest.

“I can’t believe this,” you mutter, and you feel laughter rumble through his chest before a hand comes up to stroke along your back.

“Believe me, I’m not complaining,” he assures you. “But I’d still really like to take you out, so what do you say?”

His gaze doesn’t leave yours for a second as he awaits your answer, and your heart skips a beat when you look up to see the earnestness in his eyes and the hesitant smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Breakfast sounds wonderful,” you whisper, and the smile that blossoms on your companion’s face is nothing short of radiant.

“Good,” he says. “Great. Breakfast tomorrow, then. Now, can I kiss you?”

You’re already pushing up to your tiptoes, your fingers fisting in the soft hair at his nape. “God, yes.”

///

“Hey, you made it!”

You beam. “Hi.”

You and Hoseok are about to commence your first date, having just sat down at a cozy little café for breakfast. Hoseok has pulled your chair out in true gentlemanly fashion, and you can’t help but smile over your menu at the few lingering snowflakes that have yet to melt into his dark hair.

“So, here we are,” you remark. “Our fourth meeting.”

Hoseok’s lips stretch into his signature grin, breathtakingly bright and infectious. “And hopefully many more.”

You grin at him. “Yeah? Too bad this is breakfast, because I’d drink to that.”

He leans forward, his grin widening. “Next time,” he says as his hand finds its way around yours, his fingers slotting comfortably into the spaces between your own. “We can do dinner, maybe. Or I can cook for you. But for now, I’m just happy that we’re finally doing this.”

You give his hand a soft squeeze. “Me too.”

“Just promise me one thing?”

The sudden seriousness of his tone has your brow furrowing in concern. “Sure, of course,” you reassure. “What is it?”

He winces. “Please don’t tell my mom about all the dick pics.”

#hoseok #hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #bts smut #bts scenarios #hoseok scenarios #jhope #jung hoseok #bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fic #kpop scenarios #hoseok x you #strangers to lovers!au #strangers to lovers #lia writes #gonna change that stupid summary if i can think of anything better LOL #my brain went all mushy on me idk what's happening

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xjoonchildx · 4 years

Text

guilty | knj x reader | final chapter: is something burning?

summary: as the man at the top, kim namjoon has almost everything he wants. almost. could a familiar face from the past change his future?

pairing: namjoon x reader

genre: mafia AU, pining, SMUT WARNINGS APPLY in this chapter sorry i’m yelling stressed!joon, sweaty!joon, sober!joon all make an appearance

rating: 18+

word count: 7.9K

notes: okay, so i stressed a bit about this chapter. i got really in my head over it, but i hope it ends in a way that’s satisfying to all of you guys. i’ve heard from some of the most amazing readers about this story -- i appreciate you all so much and i’d love to hear from you about how you feel about the ending.

special love to the best beta hands down periodt amen @hobi-gif, the lady who inspired it all with her adorable brand of namjoon thirst @sahmfanficbts, and three people who mean the world to me point blank period @ladyartemesia @ppersonna @taetaewonderland

this fic is a continuation of the Guarded Series but can be read as a standalone piece.

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | Epilogue

*************************

There’s this thing that happens when you’re getting over a cold.

Slowly -- as your breathing returns to normal -- you can taste again. Your head clears and your senses come back to life and you savor everything you eat like it’s the best thing you’ve ever had. Your appetite returns.

And all at once, you are starving.

That’s what it’s like after Namjoon touches you.

All he had to do was cup your face in one large, warm hand and it feels like your entire body has been jump-started. Like parts of you that have been dormant for years are now awake, nerve endings exposed and aching. Like all the tiny pieces of you that have been scattered and lost for so long are now found and fitting back together.

For the first time in a long time you remember what it feels like to want.

It’s not like you didn’t know you cared for Namjoon. You knew it deep down in the way you took pride in providing for his needs. You knew it in the way it made you feel to see appreciation reflected back in his dark eyes.

But you didn’t understand how much you wanted him until that night in his office.

In those few charged moments, Namjoon made you feel more desired with his gaze than other men have with their hands. You let down your guard and allowed yourself to imagine what it would be like to touch him, to be touched by him. You let yourself embrace the fantasy of being his in every way.

And then it was over.

Whatever spell he was under was broken and whatever existed in the air between you evaporated. The hunger in his eyes turned into remorse and you’d left his office on trembling legs, reeling from the whiplash of it all.

Today, you stare out at the window across from your desk, unable to suppress the hurt that grips your chest. You can barely concentrate on the numbers on the sheet in front of you, mind replaying the events in that office.

Namjoon should never have touched you.

He should never have roused the parts of you that had been long forgotten between doctors visits and pharmacy runs. He should never have made you feel things no other man ever has or probably ever will.

And he should have never let you believe, even for one second, that he could care for you the way you do for him.

He should have just left you alone.

*********************

No one ever tells you that when you devote your life to caring for someone else’s needs, yours end up falling by the wayside. That who you are ends up diminished somehow, buried underneath the weight of responsibility and worry.

Jinjoo finds you sitting in the chair next to your mother’s bed, staring at one lock of hair threaded through your fingers. You’re frowning at the split ends you’ve not had a chance to tend to, the ones you hide by keeping your hair pulled back.

She sweeps into the room, carrying a bowl of kimchi.

“It’s Saturday. The sun is shining and you should go out. Maybe to the salon, hmm?”

You glance up just as she’s placing the food on a tray at the foot of your mother’s bed. She smiles to soften the blow of her observation and you can’t bring yourself to be annoyed at her well-meaning meddling. It’s nice to be fussed over for a change.

“I can’t even remember the last time I went to the salon,” you admit, eyes locking on an unsightly chip in your nail polish. “I usually end up cutting it myself.”

“Well, that won’t do,” Jinjoo scolds, hands on hips. “Today I want you to go out and do something just for you. Go and get the works. You’re far too young to be stuck in this house all the time.”

You consider her offer for a moment. Here in the quiet of your mother’s room it’s far too easy to let your mind wander back to the encounter with Namjoon. Far too easy to dwell on the ache that surfaces every time you remember.

“Go on, Ttal.”

You turn in the direction of your mother’s voice and find her stirring from her nap. She places one soft hand over yours and squeezes. “She’s right. Go take some time away. I’ll be fine here with Jinjoo.”

“See?” Jinjoo waves a hand to shoo you out of the chair. You stand and she immediately takes your place in the seat. “Your mother agrees. Now go. And buy something pretty to wear while you’re at it.”

You look from her to your mother and see both women wearing matching expressions of encouragement.

You decide they’re right.

So you spend the rest of your day pampering yourself and shopping and definitely not thinking about Kim Namjoon.

You don’t think about him when you read the book he recommended to you once at the salon, you don’t think about him when you stop for a bite at his favorite Tteokbokki stand and you definitely don’t think about him when you buy a new sweater that makes you feel beautiful.

You definitely don’t think about him at all.

*****************************

NAMJOON

Kim Namjoon’s father was a pig.

A glutton of the worst kind, he hoarded money and guns and drugs and because no one ever tried to stop him. He used and abused everything and everyone just because he could.

Namjoon hated to watch the sadistic games his father played with people. He hated that the man seemed to direct the worst of his cruelty at the women in his life.

Namjoon’s own sister left everything behind to escape his violence and abuse and somehow his father was even more vicious with the women he bedded and discarded at random. He dangled things like money and security and love in front of them like bait, only to yank it all away on a whim.

That’s why Namjoon has worked so hard his entire life to prove to others -- to prove to himself -- that he’s better than the piece of shit who raised him.

That’s why the look on your face in his office that night cut so deep.

That look pierced straight through the lust and the scotch clouding his judgement and forced him to step back and see the situation for what it was. It made him feel sick to think he might have made you feel like his help came with conditions. That he’d done what he had expecting you to give yourself to him in return.

He couldn’t allow you to think he’d use his money to try and buy you. That’s something his father would have done.

And Kim Namjoon is not his fucking father.

So this morning he finds himself walking towards your desk, determined to make it right. You don’t register his approach as you work quietly and Namjoon has a quick moment to take you in.

There’s something different about you.

Namjoon can’t put his finger on it, but when he gets close enough for you to notice his presence and you glance up at him from under those long lashes, you look changed somehow.

Rested. Radiant.

The second you register that it’s him though, the look on your face changes. You stand up from your chair, expression shuttered, tone formal.

“Mister Kim,” you murmur. “How can I help you this morning?”

“Please sit,” Namjoon starts quietly. “I, uh --” He digs his nails into his palm, annoyed with the hesitation in his delivery. Spit it out, you moron.

“-- I owe you an apology.”

Your lips part in surprise before you close your mouth, sinking slowly back into your chair.

Namjoon rubs one hand across the back of his neck, stealing a sideways glance at Seokjin’s office door. It remains closed and he’s glad for it. The last thing he’d want is an audience for this embarrassing exchange.

“The other night I was --” he clears his throat awkwardly. Loaded. Horny. Stupid.

He eventually lands on a less damning adjective. “-- not entirely appropriate with you.”

You blink back but keep quiet so Namjoon keeps talking.

“I shouldn’t have acted that way,” he acknowledges weakly. “That’s not normally how I treat my employees. And I’m sorry.”

Spots of color appear in your cheeks.

“Well as your employee, I admit it wasn’t appropriate for me to just turn up in your office without notice, either,” you reply quietly. “I think I was just shocked by your generosity. It’s a lot of money, and I --”

“-- Don’t think anything of it,” Namjoon interjects quickly. “You’ve saved me that amount and more with your audits. It only made sense to repay you for your efforts.”

It’s the wrong thing to say, and Namjoon knows it immediately. It’s not the truth -- not by a mile -- and judging by the look that passes over your face, it’s definitely not what you wanted to hear.

“Mister Kim.”

“Yes?” Namjoon replies, only to realize that you are now looking past him and that he’s not the only one answering.

He turns slowly to find Seokjin standing behind him, wearing an expression halfway between curiosity and scrutiny. Namjoon’s nails dig back into his palms, leaving tiny indents in the skin.

“Good morning,” you continue, turning your attention fully to Seokjin. Seokjin looks between you and Namjoon before answering.

“Good morning to you, too,” he says slowly.

“If you’re ready to go over the new audits, I have more information to cover with you,” you say, pointing at the papers riddled with notes on your desk. Namjoon stands there like an idiot, watching the two of you interact like he’s not even there.

“Sure,” Seokjin agrees, eyes darting back to Namjoon. “Let’s go ahead and get into the numbers.”

“Great,” you say with a smile, standing to organize your papers into a folder.

You look back at Namjoon like he’s an afterthought and the realization stings. “If that was all you needed, I’ve got some work to handle now.”

The nails in his palm are this close to drawing blood.

He cuts his eyes at Seokjin who immediately looks away.

“Certainly,” he says under his breath. “Let me not keep you.”

You turn your back on him to head into Seokjin’s office.

***********************

Namjoon stares out at the setting sun from his office window.

He’s spent the last few days hiding out in here, avoiding everything and everyone. Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin -- his phone keeps lighting up with calls he won’t answer. His already black mood darkens every time his mind replays the seemingly endless string of disastrous exchanges with you.

He still can’t figure out how he’s managed to fuck things up so royally.

He still can’t figure out why he didn’t just tell you the truth about the money and about Jinjoo. He should have just admitted outright that for once he wanted to be the one taking care of you, not the other way around. He should have just admitted that you mean something to him.

That’s the real reason why things are so screwed up right now.

It would be so simple if this was just about sex. It would be so simple if Namjoon could just get you into bed and get you out of his system. But you’re not Mina or Yejin or any of the others.

You’re not like any woman he’s ever known.

Namjoon leans back into his chair just as his cell phone lights again and he grabs it just long enough to reject the call before tossing it back onto his desk. He rubs his fingers across his mouth and watches the sun fall behind the nearby skyscrapers.

You deserve so much more than he is capable of giving you.

You deserve happiness and security and certainty. What you don’t deserve is to be toyed with by a man who doesn’t know what his future looks like. A man who’s still so damaged by his own upbringing that he worries he’ll never be capable of being a decent husband and father.

Truthfully, Namjoon doesn’t know which scenario scares him more.

The one where he tries -- and fails -- to give you the things you need, or the one where he drifts through the rest of his life anchored to no one and nothing.

The sound of an incoming text interrupts his maudlin thoughts.

Namjoon reaches for his phone and sighs as he reads the waiting message.

reservations at doore yoo, 8 PM [ 6:32 PM ]

join me [ 6:32 PM ]

it’s been too long [ 6:33 PM ]

***********************

“Mister Kim.”

The Maitre’d at Doore Yoo bows in Namjoon’s direction, flashing a wide smile. “A pleasure to have you back.”

“Thank you Sungho,” Namjoon murmurs, scanning the crowded dining room. “Is she waiting for me?”

“She is,” Sungho confirms.

Namjoon follows him past the tables packed with patrons to the exclusive dining area hidden away in the back. This is his regular table, inside his regular private room -- but when Sungho slides the door open, Namjoon stops short and nearly tells the man he’s made a mistake.

The young woman waiting for him inside is unrecognizable.

From the back, Namjoon can see that her dark hair has been swept into a careful updo, shoulders and skin bared in a delicate spaghetti-strap top. But that can’t be right.

Because she would never --

“Jaegyueo.”

Namjoon’s sister lifts her chin and smiles as he steps around the table.

He catches himself staring, momentarily thrown by the sight in front of him. It’s the first time in his life he can recall seeing his sister wearing something that doesn’t cover the jagged scar that crosses her collarbone. The scar that she’s spent a lifetime hiding, ashamed of the way it made her look and feel. At once, the realization hits him -- the hundreds of different ways she’s changed, big and small since falling in love with Hoseok.

Every last one of them for the better.

“Amsaja, you look -- ” Namjoon pauses to brush a kiss across her cheek, “ -- wonderful.”

She flushes.

“Thank you. Now sit,” she orders kindly, reaching for her wine glass. “For a minute there I thought you might not show.”

Namjoon exhales, sinking into his seat.

“For a minute there, I almost didn’t,” he admits. “It’s been a shitty week.”

His sister says nothing, smiling like a sphinx as a server appears to offer Namjoon his own drink.

“Club soda on ice,” Namjoon orders quietly. “Thanks.”

Her poker face slips then, one eyebrow lifting in surprise at seeing him forgo his usual scotch. She sips her wine thoughtfully before speaking.

“Talk to me, Namjoon.”

“There’s little to talk about,” he deflects irritably, staring past her to the art on the walls.

“Hoseok says you’ve barely left your office. Won’t take his calls.”

Namjoon grits his teeth, hackles raising immediately.

“Tell Hoseok he should work on his pillow talk,” he says sharply, and the second the words leave his mouth he regrets them. Namjoon sees the change in his sister’s demeanor, watches her eyes sharpen from across the table.

“Forgive me,” he apologizes quickly. “That was uncalled for. I’m fucking things up left and right these days, it seems.”

His sister stares back at him. Namjoon knows that face, knows she’s now opted to abandon her charm offensive for a more direct approach. He knows it’s exactly what he deserves for being an asshole.

“That’s my understanding, yes,” she says tightly. “As smart as you are, you seem to be doing some very stupid shit lately.”

Namjoon scratches the back of his neck, cheeks warming at her rebuke.

“You’re right,” he admits. “But I’m going to need you to be more specific about which stupid shit you want to talk about tonight.”

“Don’t be dense,” his sister scolds. “Clearly, you’re tied up in knots over your assistant. Oh, I’m sorry -- I mean former assistant.”

Namjoon’s defeated sigh hangs in the air for a moment.

“Is that what Hoseok says?”

“That’s what everyone says,” his sister fires back. “You think you’re such a mystery but I assure you, you’re actually quite transparent. Sending her away to work for Seokjin? Hiring a private nurse? Good grief, Namjoon. Real subtle.”

Shit, he wishes he had a scotch right now.

“What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to explain to me why you’re playing this stupid game of push and pull with this woman. If you care about her, do something about it instead of lashing out at everyone around you because you’re angry with yourself.”

“She’s not --” Namjoon falters as he searches for a proper explanation, “-- she has a complicated life right now. I’m just trying to help her the only way I know how.”

His sister leans back in her chair, wine glass tipped in his direction.

“You know what I think? I think you like her too much and I think that’s freaking you out. And I think you’re going to miss out on a good thing because you won’t get your head out of your ass.”

Namjoon stares back at his sister.

“I think you might be right,” he concedes, after a heavy silence.

“Namjoon, I’ve seen the way she looks at you,” his sister says quietly. “Whatever you’re feeling, she’s feeling it too.”

He knows that’s true. It’s been damned near impossible not to feel the charged air between you, impossible not to share passing looks and fleeting touches while working in such close quarters. When he looks at you he knows instinctively that you feel the same pull. It’s only made his precarious position that much harder.

“I just --” he shakes his head as he tries to justify his inaction, “-- I have no idea what I’m offering her. I don’t know what I’m capable of giving her. Beyond money, of course.”

His sister laughs.

Namjoon waits for her to collect herself, ears warm with embarrassment. He resists the childish impulse to kick her under the table.

“Is that funny to you?”

“Hilarious, actually,” she teases. “You have no idea what you have to offer her? You’re one of the most powerful men in this city, Namjoon. There’s nothing you couldn’t offer her.”

The server arrives with dumplings and sets them in the middle of the table, and his sister reaches for one.

“If she’s this important to you, I know there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for her,” she continues. “Stop overthinking this. You’re a good man. Everything else is icing on the cake.”

“I haven’t acted like a good man lately,” he confesses, shaking his head. “She came to my office a few nights ago and I acted like a drunk, groping asshole. Like father, like son.”

His sister sets her wine glass down, hard.

“You’re nothing like our father, Namjoon,” she says, eyes flashing with anger. “Quit telling yourself you don’t deserve happiness out of some misguided, misplaced guilt. And whatever happened in that office can be fixed. If you want to fix it.”

Namjoon watches the bubbles in his club soda surface and break. He does want to fix it. He wants to figure out a way to stop fucking everything up where you’re concerned.

“I do,” he admits.

“Have you apologized?”

“Awkwardly. Not sure that it helped my case.”

“Then I think you need to offer her the one thing that’s more valuable than your money, Jaegyueo.”

Namjoon lifts an eyebrow at his sister.

“What’s that?”

She plucks a dumpling off the plate with her chopsticks and points it at him.

“Give her your time.”

****************************

YOU

It’s freezing tonight.

You wrap your arms around yourself and brace against the biting wind as you approach your family home. You’re dead on your feet, worn after a long day at the office -- and for the thousandth time since her arrival you silently give thanks for Jinjoo.

Knowing your mother is taken care of while you’re gone and coming back to a clean home and warm meals has eased your burdens immeasurably.

Of course, it’s all really thanks to Kim Namjoon -- but that’s something you’re not allowing your mind to dwell on right now. You’ve worked hard over the past few days to push any thought of that man back to the furthest recesses of your mind.

You’re peeling out of your scarf and coat in the foyer when a laugh echoes down the long hallway. It’s the sound of your mother’s laugh -- clear in a way you haven’t heard in a very long time -- and it’s definitely not coming from her room.

“Eomma?” you call out as you walk towards the sound. A peal of Jinjoo’s laughter rings out next and you smile, following it.

You round the corner to the living room and your mouth drops open when you spot your mother, fully dressed for the first time in ages, sitting on the formal couch. Jinjoo is seated next to her, both women smiling and laughing at --

Oh God.

Namjoon stands from his seat on the opposite couch when your eyes meet his. His cheeks are pinked from the cold, hair tousled from the wind, and he looks so handsome that for a moment you forget how to think.

“Welcome home,” he says, dimples emerging from his slow, careful smile.

You stare back at him, rooted to the spot. Your face warms when you realize that every single eye in the room is trained on you, awaiting your next move.

“Do you -- ” Namjoon clears his throat, “ -- do you think I could have a minute of your time?”

“What are you doing here?” you say, blowing right past his question.

Jinjoo makes a disapproving sound under her breath.

“Ttal,” your mother interjects with a tone that borders very close to warning, “Mister Kim came by to talk to you. He kept the two of us company until you came home.”

You turn to look at her and -- is she wearing lipstick?

“Yes,” Namjoon adds quickly, turning the warmth of his smile back to your mother and Jinjoo. “And they’ve been wonderful company. Thank you, ladies.”

The two of them titter like schoolgirls enjoying the attention of the most popular boy in school while you just stare.

And stare.

“Ttal?”

Your mother’s voice breaks through your mental fog. You look back at her and Jinjoo and both women appear to be holding their breath, awaiting your response. Jinjoo’s eyes are pleading when they meet yours, silently begging you to play nice.

You turn back to Namjoon slowly.

“One minute.”

“Great,” he breathes, shoving a hand through his hair.

“Not here.”

The words come out more sharply than you’d intended and your mother’s eyes go wide. Jinjoo sighs.

“What I mean to say,” you start again, delivery clumsy, “Is that we should probably step outside.”

“Of course,” Namjoon agrees.

You will your leaden legs and feet to cooperate as you turn to leave, grabbing your coat from the foyer closet on the way. You slip it on and lead Namjoon out to the front porch, immediately wincing at the bitter cold that greets you.

The door clicks shut and you burrow deep into your coat, turning to face him. You force yourself to ignore the warmth that blossoms in your chest when his mouth curves into a soft smile.

“Your mother seems to be doing well tonight,” Namjoon notes. “I’m glad to see it.”

It’s not fair. It’s not fair that he can just show up here on a whim -- looking like that, talking like that.

Charming everyone in his path.

“Namjoon, I’m going to ask again. What are you doing here?”

The smile on his face falls and he looks skyward, exhaling a puff of steam into the cold night air.

”I’m here to come clean,” he confesses quietly. “Thought I might do this new thing where I try not to act like an idiot around you.”

“Oh,” you breathe, stomach fluttering wildly in response.

A lock of his hair falls over his eye when he looks back down and you smother the urge to brush it back, hands balling into fists in your pockets.

“Thought I might do this new thing where I just tell you the truth.”

You’ve tried so hard these past few days to be angry with him, to use your hurt feelings like a wall around your heart. But you can’t anymore. He looks down at you with those huge, dark eyes and your grudge falls apart.

“I care about you,” he admits. “I’ve been stumbling over my own feet for weeks because I didn’t know how to approach you about it. And then that night in the office,” he trails off, looking pained. “That is not how I intended to treat you.”

A gust of wind blows through and you curl into yourself, teeth chattering. Namjoon pulls off his coat and drapes it over your shoulders.

“Please don’t,” you protest weakly. “You’ll freeze.”

“I won’t,” he promises, stepping closer.

You wrap the wool tight around your body, enjoying the way his lingering heat and scent wrap around you at the same time. Your heart is beating so wildly you can hear your pulse in your ears.

“Namjoon,” you whisper. “You must know I feel the same way.”

He reaches one hand up to stroke his fingers across your cheek.

“I was really hoping you’d say that.”

He’s so close now that all it would take is the slightest tip of your chin, the most incremental change in angle to press your mouth to his. But he doesn’t close the small distance between you. His gaze shifts to the street and you follow it, only now realizing a black sedan has been idling outside your house this entire time.

Your cheeks flame hot at the thought of his driver witnessing this exchange.

“I want a chance to do this the right way,” he murmurs. “Can I have it?”

You nod, waiting for your mouth to catch up to your brain. “Of course.”

He smiles wide then, the kind of smile you haven’t seen on him in a long time and once again you’re struck by how handsome he is. He narrows his eyes playfully when he realizes you are staring.

“Let’s get you inside before you get sick.”

You nod, pulling off his coat and watching as he shrugs back into it. He grabs for your hand, fingers brushing against yours just as you reach for the door.

“Good night, Namjoon,” you say softly.

He squeezes your cold fingers with his.

“Good night.”

***************************

Namjoon sends his driver for you.

You shift uncomfortably in the backseat of the sleek car, avoiding Chun’s gaze in the reflection of the rearview mirror. Up until now, you knew him only as the voice on the other end of the line when you’d arranged for Namjoon’s rides.

Now you’re matching a face with a voice -- and so is he.

You try not to dwell on how this must look after the scene outside your home just a few nights ago. Especially now that he’s been tasked with taking you to Namjoon’s penthouse.

It’s embarrassing, certainly -- but even this pales in comparison to what you’d had to endure before leaving the house.

When your mother had asked you to come see her and casually inquired about the last time you’d shaved your legs. When Jinjoo had made a point of letting you know that she was planning on staying all night long just as you were walking out the door.

That was definitely the most embarrassing part.

That’s why you feel a knot in your stomach as the security guard in Namjoon’s building escorts you personally up to the very top floor -- the one accessible only by keycard. That’s why you find yourself holding your breath right until the very moment Namjoon opens the door.

Then you let go of that breath.

“Thank you, Jaejin,” he greets, bowing in the man’s direction. He turns his attention to you and the knot in your stomach explodes into butterflies.

“Thanks for coming,” he says with a careful smile.

As if you had any choice in the matter. You kick your brain into gear and remind yourself to stop staring and smile back as the door shuts behind you.

He takes your coat and you take him in.

It’s the most casual you’ve ever seen him look, barefoot in jeans and a button-down shirt rolled to the elbows. He looks fresh from a shower, skin glistening and golden. The scent of him --- clean and male and intoxicating -- wafts over you.

Followed by a far less enticing one.

“Namjoon,” your nose wrinkles at the acrid smell, “Is something burning?”

“Something was burning,” he admits sheepishly. “But it’s not anymore. And you -- “ he pauses to let his gaze rake over you, “ -- you look incredible.”

Heat creeps up your neck and into your face, making you feel just a touch too warm in your brand new sweater.

“Thank you,” you reply, accepting his compliment with a shy smile. “So do you.”

He looks at you for a long moment, and you clear your throat, feeling uncomfortable with the admiration in his eyes.

“Can I offer you a glass of wine?”

“Yes, please,” you breathe the words through a nervous laugh. “That sounds great, actually.” You hope it’s not obvious that you’re jumping at the chance to take the edge off of your jitters.

Namjoon leaves you standing in his grand living room as he heads to the kitchen to pour the wine. You’ve always known he was a wealthy man -- but knowing that in the abstract and seeing it firsthand are two different things entirely. You take in the massive wall-to-wall windows and gleaming marble floors and custom-made art pieces with silent awe.

Namjoon interrupts your gawking when he returns with your wine.

“So about dinner,” he starts with a chuckle. “It’s on the way. I attempted to cook something, but as you already know that didn’t quite work out. Not surprising, seeing as I’ve never cooked in this kitchen before.”

Your brows shoot up in surprise. “Never?”

“Never,” he says with a smile. “I’ve never brought anyone to this apartment, either.”

His smile vanishes then, a more serious look taking its place. You swallow thickly as you let the implication of that statement wash over you.

“No one?”

“No one,” he confirms quietly.

Your lips part with surprise and Namjoon looks away, like he’s admitted too much -- and you stand there spinning your wheels, searching for something to say.

The sound of the door chime is a well-timed and welcome interruption.

Namjoon heads to the door to accept the food and you realize the same security guard who escorted you up here is making the delivery. It makes sense, of course, that only a trusted few could get this close to Namjoon’s private space.

“Are you expecting more people?” you tease with a smile when the guard wheels in a cart weighted down with enough food to feed an army.

Relief washes over you when Namjoon smiles back. The strange moment that passed between you before is forgotten.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I got one of everything.”

Pleasant smells emanating from the carefully-packed containers fill the apartment, pushing away the burnt one still lingering from the food that’s been relegated to the trash.

“Just so you know,” you laugh, “I like all of it.”

****************************

The centerpiece of Namjoon’s outrageously opulent great room is the fireplace.

Your fingers wrap tight around the stem of your wine glass as you stare into the flames and contemplate how this night will end.

You know how you want it to end.

You know the dozens of debauched fantasies you’ve entertained about Namjoon -- the myriad ways he’s had you in your mind. But there’s no way for you to know what his intentions are, how he expects this night to end.

That’s why you’re strung tight as a bow as you hear him clearing plates and cleaning up in the kitchen. The sounds eventually slow and then stop. And you wait.

You don’t hear him approach.

You come out of your thoughts and look away from the flames and he’s just there, standing in front of the couch wearing an expression you can’t read. The wine starts to wobble inside your glass, set in motion by your unsteady hands.

“Here,” he says quietly, reaching for it. “Let me.”

He takes the glass and places it on the coffee table, sinking into the space next to you.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he murmurs. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you that.”

He leans in and reaches out to thread his hands into your hair.

“Namjoon,” you whisper weakly, pulse leaping in response.

His eyes seem to darken at the sound of his name. His fingers slip out of your hair and under your jaw, tipping your chin up and compelling you to meet his gaze.

“I told you I was going to do this the right way,” he murmurs, “And I meant it. After that night in my office, I promised myself I was never going to put you in that position again.”

Your tongue slips out to wet your lips involuntarily, as if the action could take the place of the words you want so badly to say.

But Namjoon makes no move, fingers firm under your jaw.

“Tell me what you want,” he coaxes gently. “If you want this -- if you want me, tell me.”

“Kiss me.”

The words come out in a rush, laced with such desperation they sound like a plea, not an order. A smile tugs the corner of Namjoon’s mouth and he nods.

Carefully, deliberately, he sinks his mouth onto yours.

You sigh against the press of his lips as the pads of his fingers stroke the side of your face. For a moment you can’t think; can’t process a thing beyond the spice on his tongue from the Buldak or how impossibly soft his lips feel against yours.

He kisses you until you can’t breathe -- and just a moment beyond that -- until you are forced to pull away, chest heaving.

“I’ve been wanting to do that all night,” he admits, panting.

“I’ve been wanting you to do that since we were kids,” you confess, emboldened.

He leans close again, eyes half-lidded, lips grazing yours.

“Well, we’re not kids anymore.”

*********************

NAMJOON

Namjoon has to force himself not to totally fucking devour you.

You are finally in his hands and the urge to unleash months of wait and want on you is so strong he has to take a physical step back.

You look up at him from where you sit on his bed -- hair mussed from his fingers, lips swollen from his kisses -- and he hesitates, unsure of his next move.

“If you’re thinking you don’t want to -- “ you start.

Namjoon cuts you off with a strangled laugh.

“Trust me, that’s not what I’m thinking,” he vows, shoving a hand through his hair. “It’s like I’ve wanted you so bad for so long I don’t even know where to start.”

Your eyes soften as you gaze at him.

Namjoon holds his breath as he watches you slip out of your sweater and then out of your jeans. You lie back against his sheets, eyes holding steady contact with his.

“Start anywhere,” you breathe quietly. “Start everywhere. Just start. Please.”

Fuck, you are going to be his undoing.

It takes him an irritatingly long time to work the buttons of his shirt open on account of his thick, clumsy fingers. He finally manages to get out of it and his jeans follow right behind.

“You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen,” you murmur as he slides into the bed next to you. His fingers rake over the soft skin of your stomach and you jerk under his fingertips, body reacting immediately to his touch. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you that.”

Namjoon smiles when you use his own words against him.

He dips his head into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply -- savoring the soft, sweet smell of your skin. He mouths at your pulse point, feeling it race in response when his fingers trail lower to tease the delicate band of your panties.

“I figured out where I want to start,” he murmurs, sucking gently at the hollow of your collarbone.

He feels your deep intake of breath when he slips one hand into the satin, grazing against your mound. He shifts lower, allowing one finger to dip into your center, groaning at the wetness he finds waiting for him there.

“So responsive, Jagiya,” he praises softly. “So beautiful.”

You make a needy sound, hips lifting off the bed as you chase the pressure of his fingers. He turns to capture your lips again with his own, simultaneously working two fingers into the tight space between your thighs.

“Namjoon,” you sigh brokenly, “F-feels so good.”

“I can do better,” he promises. “Turn over for me.”

He waits for you to comply, body shifting in the bed. Once you are face down, he climbs over you, dipping his mouth to the shell of your ear, biting gently on the soft skin. You shiver underneath him, moaning softly.

Slowly, he kisses a line down the back of your neck, hands stopping just long enough to undo the clasp to your bra. He slips it off of you, reaching under you to tease at your nipples with his fingertips. He chuckles low with satisfaction when you twitch under his fingertips.

He continues his descent, dropping kisses along the soft line of your back. His hands reach your panties and he pulls them off, mouth sucking gently at the base of your spine.

“Namjoon,” you gasp, the sound of your plea is muffled as you press your face into the sheets. “Touch me.”

He sinks one long finger into you then, savoring the tight pull of your heat as his tongue flicks out to taste you. Your hips jerk off the bed and he uses both strong hands to urge your legs further apart.

“Relax for me,” he soothes, mouth closing over your wet center.

He pushes a second finger into you and you shudder at the fullness, back arching. The movement angles your cunt even closer and Namjoon seizes the opportunity, tongue firm as he swipes it against you.

He can tell how badly you want this. He can feel it in the way your thighs tremble while he’s working you with his fingers and tongue. He can hear it in the way you whimper when he nips gently at you with his teeth.

“Namjoon,” the tilt to your voice makes it sound like you are on the verge of tears. “Please -- I c-can’t -- ” Your thought evaporates into thin air when he groans directly into your center, curling his fingers deep against the spot inside of you that draws a sharp gasp.

“Yes, you can,” he murmurs his encouragement as you buck against his grip. “Come for me, Jagiya.”

He looks up just long enough to see your fingers twisted into the sheets, face buried deep into the pillow as you fall apart in his hands. You make the prettiest sounds as you succumb. Somewhere in the midst of your frantic whispering he hears his name and the sound goes straight to his cock, making the ache there almost impossible to ignore.

He ignores it anyway -- pushing the feeling aside to ride out the tremors with you, relishing the taste of your release on his tongue. He praises you, savors you, keeps you anchored to his mouth until your hips drop flush to the bed with exhaustion.

Then he kisses his way back up the line of your spine, dropping down at your side. You look so deliciously sated and flushed when you turn over that Namjoon can’t help the slow smile that comes over him.

You kiss it right off.

You fit your body against his -- slick skin against slick skin -- and kiss Namjoon so hard it takes him by surprise. Your hands dive into his hair, mouth desperate against his.

Namjoon chuckles under his breath at your newfound boldness, fingers reaching to tease at one pebbled nipple. Your body jolts in response and you answer with a move of your own, one hand sliding across the hard plane of his stomach and into his boxers.

Up until this very moment, he’s been able to ignore the insistent throbbing between his own legs. But the moment your fingers wrap around him -- the moment you start to pump your hand gently over him -- it becomes his only thought.

“Shit,” he groans, breaking the kiss to inhale deeply, “God, that feels good.”

You pull away to maneuver your body over his.

Namjoon watches through hooded eyes as you pull his boxers down his legs and then turn your attention to his straining cock. He takes his bottom lip between his teeth to contain the noise he makes when your mouth descends onto him.

The moments that follow are a test of the last shreds of Namjoon’s self-control.

The wet warmth of your mouth surrounds him, tongue teasing at the sensitive places that make his hips jerk and his mouth drop open in surrender. Your grip around his cock stays firm, mouth soft in contrast -- both sensations almost too much to bear at once.

He slips a hand in your hair to push back the strands that have fallen into your face and you release him with a pop, lips wet and swollen, eyes glassy and wide.

He nearly comes right then and there.

“No more,” he croaks, voice hoarse with arousal. “That’s all I can take.”

The smile you return is nothing short of victorious. Namjoon rolls you onto your back in one fluid motion, more than ready to retake his position of control. Your eyes are sparkling with laughter and he grins back.

“You like seeing me at your mercy, huh?” he teases, dropping kisses into the crook of your neck.

“I do,” you admit, shuddering when he slips one hand back down to the apex of your thighs. “It’s nice to be the one in charge for a change.”

Namjoon kisses you slowly then, taking himself in hand to slide the head of his stiff cock against the wetness spilling from your entrance. He pulls up on his arms and looks down at you just to appreciate the way you look right now, hair splayed across his pillow and skin luminous against his sheets.

“You’ve always been in charge, Jagiya,” he breathes, enjoying the way your cheeks pink in response. “Just like you’re in charge right now. So tell me what you want.”

The humor disappears from your eyes then, replaced by something heady and dark.

Namjoon sucks in a breath when your hand wraps back around his cock, guiding him back to your entrance. He throbs with need under your fingertips, muscles locked tight with anticipation.

“This -- ” you murmur, tilting your hips up to take him in, “ -- is what I want.”

Namjoon sinks down carefully then, slowly -- choking back a moan at the unbearably tight grip of your walls. You gasp, nails digging into his back as he strokes to the hilt.

“This is what you want?” he goads, feeling powerful now, drunk on the sight of you writhing beneath him. He pulls back and surges forward again, drawing a desperate moan from you. “Like this?”

You wrap your legs around him, hands sliding down the slick skin of his back until your fingers are gripping his ass, urging him to move faster.

“Yes,” you manage on a shaky breath. “Like that. Over and over and over.”

Namjoon buries his smile against your breasts, tonguing at your nipples as his hips piston against you. He nips at one with his teeth and you whine, back arching off the bed.

“You’re made for me,” he groans, panting his praise in between deep strokes, “So tight and wet I can’t think.”

You hum your contentment into his mouth when you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him close for a kiss. He slips one hand under your ass, dragging you deeper into his heavy strokes and you cry out.

He’s always hated the echo in this place. But hearing the sound of your voice calling his name echoing off the walls is an entirely different story. It lights a fire inside of him -- making him move faster, harder -- desperate to hear it again.

“Namjoon -- “ your hands claw at his back as you cling to him. “ -- I think, I think I’m going -- “

“You will,” he rasps, when you lose all hope of finishing that thought.

He sinks his thumb into his mouth before dragging it down to rub slow circles across your aching clit and you clamp down around him in response. He chokes on his own moan, summoning just enough control to keep himself from exploding inside of you.

But then you start to unravel.

In those final moments, you feel hotter and wetter -- begging brokenly in his ear for some kind of relief. Namjoon holds off until the tight grip of your cunt starts to pulse around him and then he gives in. He comes so hard his vision darkens before it comes back.

Then he collapses on top of you, panting and wrecked.

You press a kiss into his neck and rake your nails gently up and down his back.

**********************

Namjoon wakes up alone.

He should be used to the feeling by now, but after last night -- after you -- he can’t help but feel disappointed.

He shoves a hand through his hair, slips into a pair of lounge pants and heads to the kitchen in search of coffee.

Then he stops in his tracks.

You are standing in front of the massive window in his living room, wearing nothing but one of his old t-shirts, holding a mug of coffee in one hand. You sip it thoughtfully and look out over the city, seemingly unaware of his presence.

So Namjoon just stands there for a while, admiring your long legs and soft skin and the dark hair that spills down your back. Admiring the way you make this place bearable just by existing in it.

“Thought you left me,” he says quietly, and you startle out of your reverie at the sound of his voice.

“I did leave you,” you feign a serious expression, nodding at your mug. “For this. Thought you’d understand.”

“That I do,” he laughs, padding across the room to join you at the window.

He tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear and you smile up at him.

“What are you thinking about this morning?” Namjoon presses quietly. “What’s on your mind?”

You sip your coffee and look back out the window before answering.

“I was just thinking about the day I came to ask for you a job,” you confess. “How afraid and alone I felt back then.”

Namjoon can still remember how he felt seeing you walk into his office after all those years. It certainly wasn’t afraid or alone and his chest squeezes at your admission.

“And now?”

“Now I feel …” you trail off as you turn back to look up at him. “... like everything’s going to be okay.”

He stares back at you, suddenly overwhelmed by how good this feels.

By how good it feels to be needed by you.

By how you in his shirt, in his apartment, in his life, makes total sense.

By how it feels like you belong here.

With him.

“You’re right, Jagiya. Everything is going to be okay,” Namjoon vows, pulling you into his chest and pressing a kiss into your hair. “Because I’m going to make sure of it.”

**************************

GLOSSARY:

Gajog: Family

Eomma: Mother

Ttal: Daughter

Amsaja: Lioness

Jaegyueo: Jaguar

TAG LIST:

@prettyguardiansailormin @barbikatherine @55west81st @laabellaavitaa21 @codeinebelle @jalexad @trynavibewhileicry @poohsaidhi @eltrain80 @bluewhale52 @sahmfanficbts @midnighttifa @krystle1990 @thestrugglesofateenagedirtbag @hauntedlilies @kjooniesbabygirl @unicorn5090 @parkjimin-persona @kosicastairs @julia-pacheco-blog @veryuniquenamegoeshere @katbonv @sunkissed725 @yourdaydreamerfan

#namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #bts mafia #namjoon mafia #ficswithluv #ksmutclub #networkbangtan #thebtswritersclub #btscreatorscorner #btswriterscollective

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misora-msby · 3 years

Note

Hi! Can I request hc for Atsumu, Bokuto, Sakusa and Hinata (mysby! Yeay! I love them really!) What will they do to achieve their 1st kiss with their s/o 👉🏻👈🏻 thank you

i’m not sure if i got this quite right but i hope you like it anyways!

bokuto koutarou

this man... doesn’t care much for the atmosphere.

i’m sorry bokuto stans

but i think he would really just kiss you outta nowhere!

he’s liked you for a while and when he finds out you like him too (through your confession)

he just picks you up and kisses u!!

and you can’t even be mad because he’s got the biggest grin and the brightest smile and i bet if he had a tail he’d be wagging it so hard

and bokuto just “i like you too!! i like you a lot!!!”

🥺🥺🥺🥺

miya atsumu

he really wanted to make it a perfect date and end it by kissing you on your doorstep

but it really just doesn’t go as he wants

he booked a place at a nice seafood restaurant but turns out you’re allergic

then he planned a nice stroll down the street with christmas lights but then it starts raining (not snowing but raining)

so he tries to make it better by buying ice cream!

but he also accidentally knocks ur hand and makes you drop ur ice cream

so this date’s going horribly and he feels horrible and he’s just :((

but despite it, the date was so fun! you guys got to try street food, share an umbrella, and the walk home was really nice and calm!!

so in the end, he’s saying goodnight and promising you a better date next time when you tiptoe and peck his lips.

“i had a great time, tsumu.”

he’s blushing so hard and suddenly he’s gotten his energy again.

“y-yeah?! it’ll be even better! i promise ya!” he kisses you again and you both end the night blushing and giggling <3

can u tell i love him so much even tho i bully him

sakusa kiyoomi

he doesn’t want to kiss you so quickly. and u understand that.

you better.

it’s not that he thinks you’re gross or dirty, he just isn’t too fond of physical contact.

he wasn’t used to it so he continued not being used to it in ur relationship (also his first relationship)

it took three weeks for you to first hold hands!

but one day about two months into the relationship, he overhears you talking to ur friend on the phone

“so you guys haven’t had sex?”

“no we haven’t even kissed yet. but i don’t mind, i’ll wait for him :)”

he feels really happy but also wonders if he’s doing good enough so after u hang up, he walks over.

“ah, omi-kun! u ready to go on the date?”

“yeah but first.”

he pulls down his mask and gives you a really quick kiss.

both of you are a blushing mess because oh wow this is sudden

“i don’t... mind... if you want to be more affectionate. i guess.”

hinata shoyo

my sunshine uwu

i bet like bokuto, your first kiss was super spontaneous too!

i think, maybe he’s hanging at your place

you two have been best friends for a long time so this was normal, like a sleepover!

he’s sitting on the floor beside your bed, watching some replay matches with while you’re lying on the bed playing a video game.

and he turns to ask if you want to go get a snack but suddenly his heart feels funny

well, he knew he liked you for a while but you looked extra cute today...

without realising it he leans in and pecks your cheek.

“s-shoyo?!” your face is so red because ‘oh man did my best friend and crush just do that?!’

he realises it too and blushes.

“a-ah... sorry! i just thought you’re... i kinda- i uh- i like you! it’s okay if you don’t like me back just uh... do you wanna get a snack?”

“can you give me a proper kiss?”

“huh? y/n-?”

“i like you too.”

shoyo has never been quicker to cup your cheeks and give you a kiss

and when he pulls away he just rubs your noses against each other’s really softly and cutely and 🥺🥺🥺

#haikyuu x reader #atsumu x reader #bokuto x reader #sakusa x reader #hinata x reader #miya atsumu #bokuto koutarou #sakusa kiyoomi #hinata shoyo #haikyuu x you #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #msby x reader #msby black jackals #misoramsby

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pixie88 · 2 years

Text

An Aussie Adventure

Chapter 4 - Yours Truly.

A/N | Sorry, it has been a few weeks since I updated this series! It’s been in my drafts, but I have been neglecting writing this week. I’m back on it now. I hope you like it!

Comments & reblogs welcome! Let me know what you loved and hated about this chapter!

I understand if you don’t want to be tagged so just pop me a message to be removed, but also let me know if you would like to be tagged!

Summary | Adam and Ellie make a decision about their future.

Check out previous chapters here - HERE.

Wattpad | Here.

Word count | 1.8k

Warnings | 18 + Only! Angst, Fluff & NSFW.

Pairings | Adam x Ellie.

Enjoy!

She woke to find his side of the bed empty, replaying last night events she groaned, not quite believing how much she acted like a brat. He was right, maybe we should talk to the doctor first. She started hearing the kids stir.

"Mummy, what's for breakfast?" Charlie says as he climbs onto the bar stool "Can I have Vegamite on toast again?!" Delilah asked her.

On her way to the kitchen, she looked into the garden he wasn't there. The kitchen was empty too. She sent him a quick text before the kids came bowling down the hall and into the kitchen.

"Sure! Charlie bear what would you like?"

"Eggs and soldiers, please! Mummy, is Daddy still in bed?" he looks up at her.

"No, he went out for a walk, Bubs. He should be back soon!" She checks her phone, but he hasn't replied.

A little later...

Ellie decided to take the kids on a little wander round the city. "Let's see if we can get a few things for dinner. What do you two want to make?"

"Spaghetti and meatballs!" Charlie quickly answered her. "Yeah, can we make that. Can we?" Delilah chimes.

Smiling at the pair she ushers them into the supermarkets they found. She checks her phone again, still nothing.

As they buy what they need for dinner her phone rings hoping it was Adam, she stops at the end of an aisle to answer "Hello? Adam?!" She answers "Hi, sorry! No, sorry its Joanna! I was just wondering where you are? We were supposed to meet for coffee today."

She completely forgot "Oh, Jo! I'm sorry...erm, Adam whisked me and the kids away on a last minute holiday and I completely forgot!"

She hears Joanna laugh at the other end "Lucky cow! Can you get him to train James?" She jokes "I'll let you enjoy your holiday, text me when you get back!"

"Will do! See you soon!" She put away her phone and continued their shopping trip.

They arrive back at the apartment late afternoon "Daddy!" Both the kids squeal as they walk through the door, looking up Ellie notices him sat on the sofa she averts her eyes before they meet his. "Hey you two! What have you been up to?" He asks as Ellie walks past with the groceries making her way towards the kitchen.

"We went to the shops to get the ingredients to make spaghetti and meatballs. Where have you been Daddy?" She hears Delilah ask. "Just for a walk, I had a few phone calls to make." He tells the kids.

The kids wander into the kitchen with Adam "You alright?" He asks her as she's putting away the shopping "Yeah, you ok?" She smiles at him, this was one of the things he loved about her even when they had little arguments she would always protect the kids from it by pretending everything was ok.

"Yep, so spaghetti and meatballs..want me and the kids to roll the mince meat?" she hands him the beef "Yeah, you can Charlie can. Delilah and I are making the fresh spaghetti."

They get to work soon the four of them are laughing and having fun making dinner. At the table "Delilah, why do you keep wiping your mouth after you have eaten a bit of spaghetti? You should wait until after you've finished!" Charlie informs his sister.

Delilah sucks up another bit of spaghetti and wipes her face again.

A little later...

Ellie has read them five books already, "Please Mummy, just one more?" Charlie begs her "OK, one more!" Three pages in Adam pops his head through the door "All ok in here?" Both Charlie and Delilah suddenly start yawning "I'm t-i-r-e-d!" Charlie says as he starts to snuggle into his pillow "Oh ok! Sweet dreams you two." she kisses them both on their foreheads. "Night Mummy! Night Daddy!" the pair chime "Nighty night love you!" Adam kisses them both.

As they leave the room Adam comes up behind her and covers her eyes "Adam? What are you doing?" she questions him, his lips brush against the shell of her ear "It's a surprise and my way of making it up to you!" he leads them to the garden. When they reached the garden he removed his hands, her eyes adjust the garden is full of tealights, rose petals, the hot tub is on.

"Adam! W-what's this?" his arms come around her waist as his head rests on her shoulder "You'll find out just get in the tub!" he plants a kiss below her ear, "But I need my bikini!" he lets out a small laugh, "Not required!" his lips brush against her ear again. His hands go to the hem of her t-shirt as he pulls it up over her head, she unbuttons her shorts and lets them fall.

She steps towards the hot tub when he calls to her "Underwear off to!" she was still mad, but smirked at his cockiness as she removed her bra and panties and walks towards the hot tub again. He followed her in, sliding in next to her "I'm sorry...about last night and today!" he runs his fingers through his hair, she turns to look at him "I'm sorry! You were right we should talk to the doctor first!" she smiles softly at him.

"There's no need!" his arm wraps around her, "I think we should...just in case." he chuckles "There's no need because that's where I was today! Obviously they couldn't talk to me about you, but I asked for her advise in general. She said if you are ready that's a good sign and I just have to be there to support you."

"So, what does this mean?" she questions him, he grins, "Well, Mrs, if you haven't changed your mind....will you have another baby with me?!" Her face lights up "Really?!" she squeals to answer her question he pulls her onto his lap claiming her lips. She pulls away "But I thought now isn't the right time?" she looks into his eyes.

"It might take a while. I mean you have to stop taking your pill, but we'll have fun trying!" he captures her lips again. The soft pads of his fingers glide along her inner thigh and over her pearl, she hisses and bites down on his lower lip. "I hate arguing, but I absolutely love making up!" he whispers against her lips. She runs her hand through his hair before clutching a handful and pulls his head back, he smirks looking up at her "want it rough, my love?" he groans, making her bite her lip.

His hands are at the nape of her neck, he pulls her to his and grasp her lip between his teeth, "I'm gonna take that as a yes." he lifts her off his lap "Adam?" looks up at him. "Grab onto the side!" she narrows her eyes, but she turns away from him and grasps the side of the hot tub. He dips and pushes her wider apart, making room for him. With his next movement his tongue glides against her slits. Her knuckles turn white the tighter her grip becomes.

He sucks against her clit, making her moan, he pushed his fingers into her heat. "Oh!" She cries out, he felt her walls clenched around him as his tongue circles her button. Her breathing hitches, she can barely keep herself upright.

"Adam...oh....I...!" He could feel her legs shaking, he holds her up by her hips "Come for me, beautiful!" he hums against her. She can feel the fire building, ready to explode "Yes! Fuck! Yes!" She hits her climax.

He stands and pulls her hips back, his hand caressed her cheek before colliding with it. She felt a sharp sting against her curse making her hiss, she backed her curves until they pressed against his shaft, his fingers slip between her petals "Ohh..!" she moans

He rakes her hands down her spine as his fingers pump into her "Adam...I need..." he fills her before she finishes her sentence making her cry out, not giving her time to adjust he speeds up his pace. Ellie circled her hips "Baby, you keep doing that!" he groans, but she doesn't let up and keep her movements at a steady pace.

A little later...

Most the tealights are all burned out.

With Ellie on his lap, he finally pulled his lips away from hers, "How did you do all this?" she looks around the garden. "My minions helped!" she looked at him confused "I told them to keep you busy until I came to check on you." she laughed, "That's why I read about six books!" he chuckles.

"Do you think we'll have a bonny wee lass or a wee lad?" he asks her, she looks down at her hands "Ell's, what's wrong?" he hooks his finger under her chin bringing her eyes to meet his. "Are you sure this is the right time? I know I said I didn't want a stranger dictating my life, but what if your right and it's not the right time?"

He softly smiled at her wanting to laugh "I'm fine with whenever, it's when you are comfortable, beautiful!" she sighs, "I know, I'm indecisive!" he places a kiss against her forehead "You are, but I love that about you. Why don't we make a deal as soon as the police find out who is doing all this we start trying?" she pulls him in for a kiss "Thank you!" she says against his lips.

"Can we get out now? My fingers are wrinkly." she laughs, "ok, lets test out this spring mattress!" he gives her a mischievous grin "I thought we agreed to start trying once this is all sorted?" she questions him. "We are! This is us making up and for the last time at the weekend!" he winks pulling her back inside towards their bedroom.

Three days later...

Adam's phone vibrates against the kitchen counter for the third time, he untangles himself from his wife "Argh, I better get this." he groans, "Don't be long mister! We have an hour until the kids are home from kids club!" she says as she walks toward the bedroom letting her clothes fall with each step.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before answering, "Hello?"

"Hi Mr. Barlow it DC Meadow, are you ok to talk?"

"Yeah have you got any news?"

"That's what I was calling you about. We found some finger prints that don't belong to you, your wife or the list of people you said have been in your house, so we put them into our database and I was wondering if you or your wife know of a...."

His ears ring as he hears their name.

Chapter 5

@lem-20 @secretaryunpaid @aussieez @irisofpurple @rookiemartin @gloriousalmondvoiddreamer @palmaviolet @wombatsxkookaburras @beautifuluknownvoid @khoicesbyk

#adam x ellie #yours truly #an aussie adventure #@pixie88

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ladyeliot · 3 years

Photo

Exceeding expectations

Valentine’s Day (Masterlist)

Request: Anonymous: Hey this is for the Valentine’s Day promps! Tony, ⚡️, enemies to lovers, 4. & 11.

4. “I bought a dress, shaved my legs, and put makeup on. I refuse to be stood up.”

11. “Cupid just shot me in the ass with an arrow!”

Pairing: Student!Tony Stark x Fem!Student!Reader

Summary: All your life you have been focused on your studies, for you that was all that mattered, but during your third year of university things take a sharp turn and love appears in your life.

Warnings: College AU. SMUT ⚡️

Word count: 7254

A/N: This is very long! It has gotten out of hand. Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

At the age of thirteen you had discovered that love, or rather what adults used to call love, because you barely knew what those four letters meant, doesn't always bring you happiness. Jason Filton had sent you a note in the middle of Biology class informing you that you were no longer dating and that his new girlfriend was Sarah Rickman. After reading it, you threw the paper over his head as hard as you could, making all your classmates laugh and you ended up in the headmaster's office. At that moment you decided that love was rubbish, as well as everything else that had to do with it, so you chose to dedicate your life to more important things, such as your studies, and that's how you got a place in one of the best universities in the country.

For the first two years of aeronautical engineering you abhorred any distraction that would make you lose track of your own path. No parties, no conversations of more than ten minutes with anyone that weren't helpful to your future, no going home for holidays, it was all a waste of time that tended to break up your daily routine. Your university lifestyle tended to be unconventional, and unconventional didn't tend to go unnoticed in those places, and it didn't help that you were a year ahead of everyone else and your grades were above average. It seemed that everything stood in your way, but you used to overcome obstacles with great ability, you didn't let anything get to you, especially coming from society.

In the third year things changed, you were offered the possibility of taking two parallel degrees, as many subjects were validated, there was no evidence that you accepted, so in your weekly planning began to appear subjects of mechanical engineering. At no point did it ever occur to you that this choice would bring with it some murky consequences that you did not have in mind. A smarty-pants is not always well accepted in a class when there is already a person who occupies that position, there he was, the cause of all your future ills during the university year ahead, Tony Stark.

It's not that you hadn't competed with people like this before, well, you'd never really come across someone like this before, he was worthy of analysis, one of a kind, any student of psychology or even anthropology would be willing to do a doctorate on him. Although he obviously wouldn't come out of that research alive.

A week after attending those classes, you discovered that he was the same age as you, so he was also advanced in Mechanical Engineering, but the most surprising thing was that he already had a PhD in Physics, which made you wonder what you were doing wrong. Even so, the most curious thing is that he hardly paid any attention in class, he spent the whole time chatting amicably with his colleagues in the back row, but every time he was asked he answered the professor's questions correctly and wittily. He was a scholar, and that got on your nerves, although it was easy for you to hide it.

You avoided getting in his way at all times, but it was very easy for him to do so whenever you were in class, and one point in your favour was that when classes were over you used to lock yourself in your bedroom, and you were lucky that your classmate hardly ever came around, so those 15 square metres were all for you. But even so, the biggest drawback of your third year was not the competition with Tony Stark, it was someone else, James Barton.

James was a boy who shared some Mechanical Engineering classes with you, he was a year older than you and it was more than evident that he was a real inconvenience, because from the first day you entered the Micro/Nano Engineering Laboratory and he sat next to you, you knew you were in serious trouble. You felt the same as when Jason Filton at the beginning of eighth grade invited you for an ice cream in the cafeteria, that's right, that was the closest thing to love you had ever felt, that's why you knew you were in serious trouble.

During the first few months there were no clear developments, mostly because you never noticed any interest on his part. In your case, you hid with all your might the excitement you felt every time Tuesday morning came and you had to share a lab with him, the last thing you wanted was to look like a desperate high school teenager every time you saw him. But by magic, or perhaps fate, things gave you an incentive for your relationship as classmates to evolve.

Apparently James had been down with the flu for a week, so he was unable to attend class that Tuesday, it was obvious to you from the first moment you saw his empty seat. Therefore, Mr. Gregory thought it appropriate, since you always sat next to him, that you could bring him the material he had offered during that class. You were grateful that he thought there was at least a friendship between the two of you, it was an incipient one for you. You were a little reluctant at first, mostly because you didn't think it was appropriate to introduce yourself to him in his dormitory when you had barely spoken a word to each other beyond a morning greeting and a goodbye when you left class, but you chose to accept it as a personal challenge.

It was not complex to find out which dorm you were staying in, nor to find out which room you were in, the complexity was in making proper social conversation, as your social skills were far from what any young person could wish for. Nor did the male gazes cast upon you as you entered the building and began to walk down those corridors to the third floor help, you didn't know if you were in a dorm, a circus or a petting zoo. It made you wonder how those people had managed to get a place at MIT.

You positioned yourself in front of the wooden door with a set of papers and notes from Mr. Gregory's class in your hands, replaying over and over in your mind how you could start an ordinary conversation, but before you could knock on the door someone behind you thought you needed help so with his knuckles he rapped on the wood.

"If you don't knock no one will open the door," said a boy flashing you a friendly smile, perhaps the first you had ever seen in that place, as he continued on his way.

"Come in!" exclaimed a voice behind that door, you knew at that moment it was James.

Taking a breath you slowly rested your hand on the doorknob and turned it slightly, leaving only a small gap to put your head through.

"I'm sorry," you began, "I don't mean to intrude. I'm just dropping off the notes and materials Mr. Gregory gave in class today. He thought they might come in handy for next week's class."

James was lying on the bed, you found that the atmosphere was a little heavy with sweat mixed with his particular scent with hints of cinnamon, but the moment he discovered who his visitor was he sat up and started to pick up some tissues that were scattered on the sheets.

"God... I'm sorry, this is a mess," he said, taking the wastepaper basket in his hands and stuffing everything he could find into it, his tone totally congested.

"No, don't worry about it," you added quickly, stepping into the room. "Don't mind me, I was just coming to bring you the notes and I was just leaving."

"I'm sorry," he repeated, collapsing back onto the bed from flu-like exhaustion.

"That's all right," you gave him a small smile and put the material you had brought on the desk nearest his bed. "I guess you'll understand everything, but if you don't understand anything or need anything at all you can tell me."

"Thank you very much," he said leaning back against the wall, "I appreciate it."

You nodded smiling at him, thankful that the situation hadn't been too complicated, at least so far, so you decided not to push your luck and head for the door.

"Wait," he exclaimed as best he could behind you, causing your footsteps to stop and you to turn back to him. "Would you like to go out for a drink sometime?"

During those moments you were trying to process his request to buy you a drink the dormitory door opened with a thunderous bang against the wall, bringing you face to face with your beloved Mechanical Engineering partner.

"Oops, sorry, am I interrupting something?" he said curiously, contemplating you both gradually.

"Could you not give those bumps every time you come in?" complained James almost incomprehensibly due to congestion.

"Sure mate," having said that he gingerly closed up and walked over to his bed, picked up a book, lay down and pretended to browse through it.

"So?" James looked back up at you waiting for an answer.

It had all happened so fast that your mind had not yet come to terms with the situation, but all you had to do was say "sure", "yes, I'd love to" or "of course, that would be fine", but you only managed to nod with a small smile.

"That's a yes?" he asked trying to clarify your intentions.

"Sure," you managed to say between nods, which managed to extract a smile from your partner. "So... I'll see you next week in class. I hope you get better."

To your surprise you had overcome that personal challenge with great talent, you knew that if your sister were present she would award you the medal for bravery, not only for having talked to a boy, but for having managed to get a possible future date with great elegance, and without hardly expecting it. But what you didn't realise, or at least not until first thing on Wednesday morning, was that you were in for some curious comments from your opponent about the previous day's events.

"So you're going out with Barton," he said almost before he sat down behind you. "I thought your social life was limited to striking up a conversation with the lady at the post office one Sunday a month."

Over time you had learned that the best thing you could do was to ignore that annoying little voice that sat behind you every Wednesday and tried to interrupt you every time you were offering an explanation during class. It was the best way you had found to get through those first few months with him.

But it wasn't all that simple, especially when you and James started a friendship that developed into something a little more serious just before the Christmas holidays. Like any other relationship where two people are attracted to each other the search for intimacy is normal and ordinary, during the third year of university you were lucky that your roommate was practically a ghost and you found the best place to have your own intimacy, because obviously you didn't know why Tony Stark was always in his bedroom, and when he wasn't he used to appear at the most inopportune moments, and worst of all without knocking.

"Are you crazy?" you exclaimed, hiding under the covers. "Don't you know how to knock?!"

"Oh, come on! It's nothing I haven't seen before," he said throwing himself on his bed. "Don't worry about me, I don't care."

At those moments you didn't know whether to get up and cross his face or just not show up there anymore, because things didn't stop there, he used to drag out the subject at hand and make inappropriate comments to you in class, such as "I hope you used protection" or "you forgot your bra" or "if you need any advice you know you can ask me for it". It was quite frustrating, because there was little you could do about it, just ignore him or else he would come over the top.

Apart from that everything seemed to work perfectly with James, or at least that's what it seemed to you, the two months that you had been together things were coming together without forcing them, you met every now and then to go out to eat, you took advantage of the moments you were alone to study and sometimes things generated moments of intimacy, it was the closest thing you had had to a love relationship, although your experience was very basic in that matter in question. So basic that you barely understood a lot of things and you could be very naive about anything to do with social relationships.

Discussions started to become your daily routine, they all came hand in hand because of your clashing characters, he used to have a very evolved social life, three times a week, he even skipped some classes because of the hangover that the night before he had self-inflicted, although you accepted his lifestyle, you didn't share it at all and his constant initiatives to integrate you in his environment didn't usually turn out as he expected. So a constant back and forth ensued from then on, which brought out a character you didn't like.

You began to hear rumours, which you tried to avoid, so as not to get caught in the net. These rumours ranged from whether James had hooked up with Nancy Skelton the night before to whether he had taken her to his room. So every time you sought an explanation he seemed to find himself sufficiently unwilling to offer one. The same thing happened on Valentine's Day.

You had been ignoring the rumours that were torpedoing your ears for two weeks, James had sworn and swore to you that nothing that was going around the halls of the college was true, that he hadn't done anything with anyone at the frat party. You, like an innocent fool, accepted his words, letting yourself be carried away by those green eyes that knew how to make your legs tremble. So that meant that the Valentine's dinner was still on. It was the first time you had bought a dress for a special occasion on your own, you didn't choose to take risks, black was always welcome and straps too, although you really did take risks with the neckline, and with the reddish lipstick. In short, you wanted me to discover that you could also become Nancy Skelton for a night, but apparently I didn't feel like checking it out. You waited for twenty minutes in your room for him to come and get you, but you thought something must have happened, so you headed off to find out for yourself.

Again, as if you were in a circus attraction, and you were the main attraction, you rushed through the corridors of the male dorm with whistles, sexist comments and cheers behind you. It was Thursday night, which meant that the party had started early that evening and most of them had traded blood for alcohol. You knocked on the door, waited a few seconds but no one answered, knocked again, but the case was ignored so you tried to turn the doorknob, but to your surprise the room was locked.

"What the hell?" you asked yourself.

Totally confused you look at your wristwatch, expecting to have got the time wrong, but no, it was 8:35 p.m. just thirty-five minutes later than you had arranged. You stood there for a couple of minutes waiting for him to appear out of nowhere, but the most you could find was one of his mates running past you in his underwear.

"Hey! Do you know where James Barton is?" you exclaimed trying to find an answer.

"In the common room!" he shouted without turning to look at you.

Looking like a complete idiot for not having considered that fact you walked back through the hallway in embarrassment in the direction of the common room, from where laughter, shouting and anything else that involved a group of boys with beer bottles around them was emanating. When you appeared through the door frame there was little time for your presence to be noticed.

"What have we got here?!"

"Oh my god, is this my birthday present?"

"Shut your mouths you idiots!" James stood up from his seat and walked towards you, with a subtle wobble in his body and his eyes completely rolled back in his head. "Is it time already?"

"It's actually been forty minutes," your arms were still crossed preventing his body from approaching yours. You could smell the stench of beer all over him, even his shirt was stained with a few drops.

"All right, all right," he said abandoning the bottle on a bookshelf. "Let's go."

Unable to hold on, and under the watchful eyes and laughter of his companions he offered you his arm, but lost his balance and fell to the ground, right at your feet. You took a deep breath and began to let it out very slowly, but you barely flinched, you couldn't believe what was happening to you at that moment. James tried to get up as best he could and stood back up in front of you, pulling his shirt back on.

"Come on," he made a second attempt.

"No, no James," you said in the most serious tone you could rescue from your broken insides. "I'm not going anywhere with you. But you know what, I bought a dress, shaved my legs, and put makeup on. I refuse to be stood up. So I'm going to take advantage of the reserve we have." You uncrossed your arms for the first time and pointed your finger at him. "Ah! And in case you haven't made it clear, it's over between us."

The cheers went up like you'd just scored a touchdown in the middle of the national finals, but you just kept your composure and got out of the place as quickly as possible. You were so pissed off about the situation, as well as yourself, that you felt the sting running through your veins. You asked yourself over and over again how you had been so stupid as to get into this situation, you, but you couldn't find a coherent answer. You assumed that smoke must be billowing from your head as you cut your way through the labyrinthine corridors to get out of the building as quickly as possible, but just around the corner the one person who could complicate things appeared.

"Hey!" he exclaimed behind you, picking up his pace and coming up beside you. "I was thinking, why go to dinner alone when you can have good company?"

You turned your head to the right, flashing him the most incoherently terrified look you could extract from yourself at the moment, but Tony didn't seem to care enough because even that didn't stop his grin from being wiped off his face.

"Are you kidding me?" your footsteps were rather light. "Oh, of course not! Do you really think I'll accept you coming to dinner with me?"

"Do you have someone better to go with?" his arrogance was pushing you over the edge.

"Of course! Me, alone," you said walking down the steps of the dorm and stepping outside.

"Really, by yourself on the most romantic night of the year, in a small Bistro in downtown Boston?" he said without breaking away from you. "That sounds really sad," he paused. "Do you have a car?"

"Welcome to the world, I don't need a man to go out to dinner whenever I feel like it and there are taxis," you walked as if you were going to miss the train of your life.

"Alright!" Tony definitely seemed to give up and fall in behind you, "See ya!"

You were so upset at the time that the only thing on your mind was to head for the campus taxi rank, and so you did. You were lucky that there were a couple of taxis waiting, so it didn't take you more than fifteen minutes to get to the door of the Bistro, located in the centre of Boston. The place was really charming to anyone's eyes, its round tables were perfectly placed to offer a cosy dinner to any of its diners. The candles offered that romantic air that anyone could want on that night of the year, and the aroma of traditional dishes was wafting from inside, whetting anyone's appetite.

You looked outside through the glass windows to see the couples who seemed to be enjoying a really lovely evening, it was at that moment that your spirited idea seemed to wane, for now it didn't seem to make much sense to go inside and dine completely alone under the watchful eyes of the waiters who wondered what had happened to put you in such a situation. The metre who stood at the door waiting to receive his customers watched you, for you were only a few feet away from him.

"Do you wish to wait inside, miss?" he asked with a pleasant smile.

"No, I..." you shook your head as if to leave.

"I'm here baby," a hand took hold of your waist. "Sorry it took me so long, it's impossible to park in this area."

As you heard that voice and felt that hand on your waist you knew immediately who it was, caramel coloured eyes accompanied by a wide smile were looking at you right next to you, you were about to give him a push if it wasn't for the fact that that metre opened the access door to the place and the last thing you wanted was to make a scene in the middle of the street.

"Did you have a reservation?" asked the waiter, checking the list.

"Yes, under the name of James Barton," said Tony, barely letting you speak.

"By all means, follow me," he began walking among the diners arriving at a small round table just outside the window, where he didn't take a second to light the candle that adorned the table. "Will you have something to drink in the meantime?"

"Yes, what wine do you recommend?" his way of waving his hand embarrassed you, he seemed to want to pretend to be knowledgeable.

"Oh, we have a Château Montrose, which goes perfectly with the meat tastings," he informed her.

"Perfect," nodded Tony, opening the menu.

As quickly as the waiter left, your attitude changed, expressing all your feelings with your face.

"Are you crazy?" you whispered, leaning towards him so that no one else could hear you. "Do you have any idea what that wine might be worth? But more importantly, what the hell are you doing? What are you doing here? What is this?"

"Oh come on, you know if I hadn't come you'd be back in college right now, don't you?" he cocked his head to the side and smiled at you, "Besides, the wine and dinner is on me, just enjoy the night."

"Enjoy the night? With you? Really?" you frowned, it was unbelievable to you that this was happening, but at least he'd had the courtesy to ditch those rock band t-shirts he used to wear and that messy hair, he'd shown up in a white shirt and black peg trousers.

The wine soon arrived and you'd be lying if you said it didn't help the dinner go more smoothly, allowing you to chat like two normal people. You found it hard to let go of that stubborn attitude you have inside you, but when you managed to put it aside you came to discover that Tony could be a lot of fun, even if he didn't share your sense of humour. You spent two hours discovering similarities in each other and also many differences, but it was a fruitful conversation, for the candle that lit the centre of your table was gone. You surprised yourself by observing more than once the features of his face, his honey-coloured hazel eyes, his upturned nose, his full lips and the way he smiled that seemed to bring out your colours every time he did it. But you blamed it all on the bottle of wine you had finished between the two of you.

When they brought the bill he barely allowed you to look at it, as he deposited his american express and smiled proudly at you.

"How about now...?"

"Shall we go back to campus?" you cut him off by stepping outside with a smile you couldn't keep off your face and pink cheeks.

"Well, actually, I was thinking..."

"I'm exhausted," you cut him off again, draping your jacket over your shoulders. "Besides, we have a class first thing in the morning."

" Okay!" he exclaimed in a melodious tone shoving his hands into his pockets. "Then we'll go back to campus."

In three minutes you found yourself sitting inside a red Porsche, which was going at a speed well above what you were used to. From the speakers came the sound of the Australian rock band AC/DC, but without knowing why Tony stopped the music.

"What's wrong?" you asked looking at him quizzically.

"I thought you didn't like it," he shrugged. "You were very quiet."

"First of all, I was listening, I like it," you began, "and secondly, in case I didn't like it you don't have to indulge me, this isn't a date, or anything like that."

"All right," he gave a half-smile and turned the music back on. "So this isn't a date..."

You smiled quizzically at his last words, trying to assume that it had been the alcohol that had given you that little smile and not your subconscious that seemed rather pleased by the last two hours you had spent together. During the drive you couldn't help but laugh when you discovered his imitations of Angus Young, the lead guitarist of the band you were listening to. But the situation changed when the Porsche pulled up right in front of your dorm, but before you had even taken off your seatbelt your door was open and Tony's hand was waiting to help you out.

"Thank you..." you whispered a little reluctantly. "Oh, you don't need to come with me, I think it's rather late, so I'd better..."

" Okay," he nodded smiling, again that wry smile that you knew was going to cause you to either want to come along or not.

"Alright," you said giving up and walking towards the inside of the building. "Don't even think about making a sound."

"Please, I'm all grave," he said behind you as you walked up the stairs, but he didn't keep his word as a stumble caused the sound to bounce all over the stairwell.

"Tony..." you reproached him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he raised his hands in his defence.

Within a minute you had reached the door leading to your room and the awkward moment of saying goodbye was upon you, face to face.

"Okay, well... I guess thank you very much for... dinner and for walking me to the door," you nodded without knowing why in a slightly nervous tone.

"It's been my pleasure," he bowed, his voice sounding utterly confident, the opposite of yours.

"Great... so, I'll see you in class tomorrow," you rummaged through your bag to find your room key and when you had it in your hand and looked back up at him you discovered Tony's gesture biting his bottom lip, so your mouth let out, "or maybe..."

Why the hell had you blurted out those three words, 'Or maybe...' 'Or maybe what?' Your unconscious was working and coming alive in you, your inner self was saying that you didn't want to part with him so soon and that you couldn't wait for him to come into the room with you.

"Or maybe?" a half-smile came to life on his face, showing you part of his tongue running subtly across his upper lip that made your heart race. But finding that you didn't know what to say in that instant, he added, "Are you inviting me in?"

"I..." you looked a little hesitant, but found the courage to face the situation, "Only if... you feel like it."

There was a few moments of silence in which your wives seemed to be electrified.

"All right, but first I think you should know something," he added, breaking the moment of sexual tension that had built up. "The James rumours are true. I caught him and Nancy in our bedroom," he paused and tucked back a strand of hair that had come loose. "I should have told you before."

Why did you feel as if you knew deep down that this event was true? Maybe because it only took you three months of being with James to find out what he was really like, a total prick. But the funny thing is that when you took in those words, the sexual tension returned, making you forget everything he'd told you.

"Okay," you nodded with a blank stare, "So does that mean you don't want to come in?"

Again he made that arrogant smile present again that even as he brought his face close to yours to catch your lips did not disappear. He wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, crushing your body against the wooden door, preventing you from escaping from that place if you were planning to do so. It was really infuriating, to have his lips between yours and still feel the need to have him closer. You were so lost that the key slipped from your fingers, catching Tony's attention and he opted to pull away from you and bend down for it, you hated those seconds, but instantly you discovered his hands roaming the nakedness of your legs along with his lips rediscovering that new area.

"Come on Tony," you begged, resting your hand on the doorknob so as not to give in to his touch as it slowly crept up your thighs. "Open the door."

With a small nibble on the inside of your left thigh he pulled himself back up to your height to force your lips together as he tried his best to open the door as best he could in the dark. You felt the door offer you passage into a room dimly lit by the moonlight coming through the window. Tony closed the door behind you regardless of the noise he made in doing so.

" Damn it, Tony," you said, pulling away from him.

He took the opportunity to pull your dress up to your waist and wrap your legs around his waist to direct you towards your bed. The position is really intimate, but your head wasn't in the right place to dwell on it at the moment, there was practically nothing romantic about what was happening or what was going to happen in a few minutes. During the ride you opted to get rid of the black dress that seemed to be burning your skin by dropping it to the floor, revealing your naked body only covered by a pair of black panties.

"Shit. Cupid just shot me in the ass with an arrow!" he exclaimed finding his gaze at the level of your breasts.

Tony's body collapsed on the mattress, unable to take his eyes off your body, he maintained an upright, seated position, straddling him. Your gazes connected, in your eyes there was nothing but tension and lust, the passion of two young university students who needed to let off steam as soon as possible. However, inside you both hid a sense of nervousness that you kept from coming out.

Although you'd had sex with James before, you weren't exactly an expert on the subject, but something inside you was working, making it seem like you had no problem with it. In Tony's case you had heard things, but you didn't know how much of it was true or not. Still, Tony's kisses trailing his mouth down your neck were methodical, the way he brushed his tongue, bit into your neck and finished by pressing a soft kiss seemed to transport you to paradise, just as it did him, as you could see it in the hardness forming between your folds. A moan escaped your lips causing your hips to move gently to feel more firmly what was hidden in his trousers.

"Oh, god, do that again," Tony uttered against your ear in a completely gnawed tone of voice.

As if it was a command you were incapable of refusing, you did it again. His hands gripped your thighs firmly and his lips lingered on your breasts for the first time, brushing his lower lip over your right nipple, letting his intense breathing fan it. Your back arched bringing your breasts closer against his mouth, likewise your fingers found themselves stirring his hair. Tony simply played with his tongue against you offering equal attention to both breasts, making sure it was pleasurable, and he assumed he was succeeding thanks to the sounds coming from inside you.

Your hips kept making circular motions pressing against him trying to relieve the need that had built up in your core. Tony seemed to feel the same need so he parted his lips from your breasts and made a sudden movement grabbing your waist and trying to flip you over on the bed, trying because in the process he caused your head to hit the bedside table next to the mattress.

"Shit!" he exclaimed with a surprised look on his face, but your reaction generating a giggle in you, calmed him down expressing a smile. "I'm sorry, baby."

"It's okay," you say finally taking the position he wanted, lying down on the bed and finding Tony's body on top of yours.

You feel his lips moving over your skin again as he undoes his shirt, uncovering every part of his back with your fingertips. Your whole body was being a mess, the path of his tongue was heading south, his fingertips formed circles around your navel and his mouth had a clear direction, you felt it when his fingers brushed the top of your panties. All you could do was keep your eyes closed with your head on the pillow, bite your lower lip to stop the curses coming from inside you and press your legs against each other.

"Open your legs," he whispered against your skin and then placed a kiss on your lower belly, making all your nerves want to explode. "I'll be gentle, promise."

You feel those words crash against your skin, and as if they were a switch they are able to make your legs open subtly giving way to the fabric of your underwear sliding down your thighs. Tony decides to take his time until he manages to extract them through your feet as he doesn't take his eyes off your completely naked body exposed before him. He slid his fingers around the inside of your legs to again run his lips up and down them so that his hands were free to free himself from your trousers.

"Do you have...?" he asked moving his kisses up your thighs.

"What...?" the word almost came as a plea from your lips.

"Condoms," he said against your skin.

Something in your brain clicked, bringing you back to consciousness in those moments, you lifted your head off the pillow and looked directly into Tony's eyes that were practically over your core in those moments.

"Are you telling me you don't have any condoms?" you asked with a frown, a little gruff at the situation you were in.

"Well, I wasn't really planning on ending the night like this," he lifted his face with a smile from between your thighs, but as he watched your head fall frustratingly against the pillow he added, "Okay honey, don't worry, I'll take care of everything."

As quickly as he uttered those words he managed to get your lower limbs onto his shoulders, meeting again between your thighs. That was the first time you discovered what lips on your clitoris felt like. Your frustration was fully replaced by pleasure, a pleasure that made every part of your body tremble. You really didn't know how you could have missed this for so long. Your hands were fixed on either side of your body gripping the sheet tightly, but there came a point when you couldn't let him pull away from you, so you curled your fingers in his hair. Right now you had Tony Stark kissing and licking your most intimate part and all you could think about was that his movements wouldn't stop.

"Please... Don't stop," you urged between moans, feeling two fingers thrust inside you at your words.

You find yourself in complete disbelief, you're a mess, and you can't help but open your eyes and look at the one causing the disaster, who just like you was a complete mess against your intimacy. That action, along with the speed of his movements inside you and his moans against you, causes all your senses to connect and decide that the time has come to explode. You drop your head back down onto the pillow, arching your back in an attempt to establish a closer connection with him. You're exhaling, screaming his name between your moans without thinking about who might hear you. He continues to consume you, sucking you in as he brings you to full orgasm. Your limbs slowly manage to steady their movements, until the euphoria inside you ends with a soft moan.

Tony subtly withdraws his fingers from inside you as he leaves his wet kisses around your thighs, searching for your gaze amidst the mess of sheets that existed around you at that moment. He finds himself climbing up your body, kissing every part of it gently until he reaches your face where he catches your lower lip between his teeth.

"I told you, I'll take care of everything," he added with a half-smile. "And I think I've managed to exceed expectations."

"It's possible," you kissed him again finding your breathing much calmer. "That means it's my turn now."

With more skill than he did, you were able to get his body underneath yours in an instant, causing his tongue to come out and lick his upper lip. It was obvious that he was tremendously proud of the job he had just done, thanks to how well you had let him know with your facial and guttural expressions. But now it was your moment, discovering that your needs had not yet been fully satisfied and that you had a burning need inside you to feel him in you. Your kisses moved from his lips to his neck, taking on the taste of his perfume. You exerted just enough pressure with your teeth to profess from his throat his sweet gasps that were filling you with madness.

The path of your kisses was present on his chest, which rose and fell because of his accelerated breathing. He was soft, sweat was present on him from the previous exertion, but you hardly thought that fact mattered to you. Your tongue had reached his lower abdomen with great skill, the evidence of which was that Tony had chosen to lose eye contact with your actions and now looked a complete mess biting his knuckles. If it had been any other time you would have enjoyed the scene in front of your eyes causing him to beg, but he had been so good to you and you were so eager to kiss what was hidden by his briefs that you wasted little time in sliding the fabric down his thighs and releasing his erection.

You had been in that situation only once before in your life, so you opted for a marked subtlety in bringing your lips to his tip and licking it clean of his pre-cum. Luckily for you the noises coming from Tony were a map for your movements. you just start by testing the ground, tasting it, feeling it deep in your throat.

"Don't stop, whatever you do. I like that, a lot," his hand wrapped through the strands of your hair as his gaze focused on you.

Those words ignite your movements, you circle his shaft with one hand, accompanying the movements, you find that it intensifies his panting and generates a slight movement in his hips that causes him to thrust his erection deeper against your throat. You bring your free hand to his hips instilling a show of confidence and acceptance of his thrusts, which causes Tony to increase his speed.

"Shit, I'm so close, keep going -," his frantic tone could barely finish the sentence.

You felt the hand disappear from your head allowing you to withdraw right then and there, but his desperation was also shared by you, and just as you had orgasmed against his lips as you couldn't hold him inside you wanted to feel him as much as possible. Throbbing moments later inside your throat, accompanied by curses accompanied by your name coming from inside Tony. His hand returned to its proper place, dropping subtly to your head, enticing you to follow his movements.

Your lewd movements stopped over time as you noticed his limbs returning to their normal function and his breathing resumed its normal rhythm. You withdrew, offering her a soft kiss on the tip, and connected your gaze with hers, which strangely seemed a little embarrassed.

"I hope the walls are thick," you commented with an arched eyebrow.

He merely took in your smiling face and intertwined his fingers with yours to bring you closer to his height. He placed your bodies sideways, intertwining your legs, and with his fingertips he wiped the droplets of saliva from around your lips.

"So... would you say I've exceeded expectations too?" you asked, caressing his bare arms.

"I don't know," he said hesitantly. "I need more than one round to find out."

His half-smile lifted again, in no doubt that that had been the best sexual experience he'd had to date, because not all rumours are true.

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wandsandwheezes · 3 years

Text

Fake It | Weasley Twins | CH3

one // two

Warnings | 18+ SMUT, mature themes, fake relationships, secret relationships, love, sex, drama, angst, fluff.

Summary // Fred Weasley has been set up to publicly date Y/N, London’s best Quidditch Seeker in order to drum up some publicity. Y/N however has a different ginger man on her mind; George Weasley.

A/N // Just a quick one to say a massive thank you for the 800 of you have chosen to follow me and my work! I’m absolutely over the moon and once again I am filled with so many emotions that I don’t know how to process, so once again thank you, frim the bottom of my heart 💕

You were gasping for air, begging to have a moment to let out your sultry moans as the power of your orgasm washed over you. After a gentle shower together earlier, George pulled his old Gryffindor sweater on you, and it lit a fire inside him that was fuelling high, after high, after high, fucking his girl possessively into his sweater, until you were an absolute mess for him. Only when the garment had served its purpose did it come off again. These were the things George wished he could brag about to his mates, he wished he could quip back when they were talking about how good their sex life was, he wanted to be able to boast about his ability to make you cum over and over again for him. But a part of him was glad he could keep that a secret because he didn't want anyone else picturing your sweet little moans other than him.

The rise and fall of both of your chests as you lay in George's arms, naked skin pressed against each other. Your eyes were still glazed over, still blissed out as you traced small circles on his chest. His large hand rubbing up and down your back soothingly, as he mumbled soft words of praise as his lips pressed into your hair. "You did so good for me princess, Such a good girl for me, what can I get for you? Tea, water, a snack?"

You pulled him closer, leg still wrapped around his as you did. He was the one who was good to you, this was the intimate side of George that nobody else saw, It made you feel special, unlike you'd ever felt before. "Can we have tea, baby?" he hummed simply, moving to go make it, you whined wanting to pull him closer. "Take me with you." you pouted, making grabby hands at him, he rolled his eyes, still smiling at how needy you could be, as he went to pick you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around him as you sat attached to his hip.

"Cherry says I have to kiss Fred at the launch." you mumbled, as you heard him flick the kettle on. He sat you up on the counter as he looked at you with all seriousness. "You don't have to do anything you aren't ready to do." he stated it so quickly, turning around to grab some mugs from the cupboard and place them by the kettle. When he faced you again his hands were on your thighs, he caught your lips in a sweet kiss, hoping to brighten your spirits.

"She's your publicist, not a dictator. You're your own person, baby, You set the boundaries." He was so understanding, because he knew there was nothing he could do about the fake relationship between his brother and yourself. It was the one thing out of his control and he'd learned to let it go. He was resting his forehead against yours, just staring into your eyes lovingly, no words needed between the two of you as he waited for the water to boil. He made the tea for you both, carrying the cups upstairs, following behind you as he marvelled at how classic abs beautiful it was to see you walk up the stairs while naked.

Like usual, George woke up early for his shift at the store, today however he climbed back into bed, fully suited and booted for the day, to give you a kiss and a cuddle goodbye. You grumbled as he tried to pull away, "Please stay, Daddy, I need more kisses." he groaned, flipping you over so he could pin your shoulders to the bed, his hair hung in front of his eyes, blocking you from staring into his darkening eyes. "Baby girl, if I wasn't late I'd be ravishing you right now." your fingers pushed through his long hair, pushing it out of his face with a cheeky smile, keeping his head in your hands so you could pepper kisses over his face. "Just your fingers quickly, daddy, please" your hips were bucking up, hoping to catch some release. He contemplated it, one of his hands leaving your shoulder so that his fingertips could trail softly over your hip, ghosting millimetres over your clit, before plunging his first two fingers inside you slowly, using a scissoring motion to stretch you out as he felt the inside of your already dripping cunt, your hips were now bucking against his fingers, trying to chase a release, just as soon as he'd started he was pulling away completely from you, getting up off the bed, suckling his fingers into his mouth. "You taste amazing, I want that cunt dripping for me when I'm home, understand?" you nodded eagerly as pressed a kiss to your swollen lips before apparating to the shop with a fast pop, leaving his tired and needy girl splayed out on his bed.

After sneaking in a small nap, you awoke to get ready for your day, searching through your bag to find the day's outfit. As you squat down, you realise just how sore your thighs are, you were unsure if that was due to a piss poor stretch after last night's training or the last few evenings with George, you laughed to yourself as you pulled your fresh clothes on. You text George, after making the bed, smiling at the love he always showed you.

<< My thighs hurt today :(( x

>> I'll pick up some gel from the quidditch shop if you want x

>> on the condition that you let me massage it in later ;) x

<< you're a tease, Georgie, I'll be fine x

>> you're a stubborn git, I'll buy you some anyway x

You took the short walk from George's house to Diagon Alley, the slightly bitter wind ripped past your eyes, but the heat of the gleaming sun made it that little warmer. You text Fred to let him know you were on your way.

<< I'm not too far away, still up for Coffee? Meet me there x

As soon as you'd walked through the entrance at the leaky cauldron, reporters were on your toes, "What are your plans today, Miss L/N?" you smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Can we expect any more kisses from you and Fred?" You Ignored them all as you took the short walk straight towards the coffee shop.

Inside Fred's office, the man was just pulling on his coat when George stood in the doorway. "I have a preposition, Freddie." the older twin nodded, waving his hand to allow his brother in, George shutting the door behind him. "I've been thinking about what you said the other day about swapping and I think it would be cool, you know If you wanted to." George was awkwardly scratching behind his neck, eyes trailing to the floor. "I don't know George, I don't think you'd be able to handle the cameras and the couple thing," George huffed a little, "At least just let me give it a try, what about the product launch this weekend."

Fred squinted his eyes, thinking for a few moments, "I see what you're doing." he stated, George cocked his head to the side in confusion, stuffing his hands into his pockets, "You do?" Fred's chuckle filled the room, "I can read you like a book George, you want a taste of that relationship life, I get it, it sure is lonely with just your hand." The younger of the two was really biting his tongue to stop himself from spilling six years of secrets. His hands clenching a little in his pockets little, but Fred continued, "I'm off on my date, either way, I think If I butter her up correctly, It won't just be my hand I have to use tonight." Fred was still laughing as he left the office, leaving the door ajar as he swiftly made his way out of the shop.

George was seething, He didn't often have problems with his anger but today was an exception, He muttered to one of the workers that he would be found in his office for emergency only, slamming the door so loud behind him that the clap reverberated through the whole shop, sending the chatter into complete silence for the moment before the laughter erupted again.

Fred saw you outside the coffee shop, his hand pressed to your lower back as he pulled you into a hug. Cherry insisted that at least once a week there would be a public date that would allow for some publicity, you decided on the coffee shop more often than not because it was a simple way of of showing the press that you did indeed meet outside of press events and helped to give some form of validity to your fake relationship, he pressed a kiss to your temple as you both waited in line, something that was sure to be captured replayed over and over in at least one magazine or paper tomorrow.

While you and Fred were laughing over coffee and a shared piece of cake, George was replaying the conversation with Fred over and over in his head. He’d ripped up the order forms, the pieces of paper scattered all over the floor, but quite frankly he couldn’t give a fuck, even if the world right now was ending he’d still be focused on the words that spilt so easily from Fred’s lips. It made him sick to his stomach that his twin simply found you to be so easy that you’d give in with a little persuasion, sure if it was George doing the persuading it wouldn’t take more than a kiss and a look, but with anyone else surely you weren't ready to just sink to your knees and give it all up. George was tapping away furiously on his phone, letting you know exactly how he felt.

“So, how’s training going?” Fred asked, bringing the coffee mug up to his lips, He’d already scraped all of the cream off of the top and was ready to sip on the sweet caramel latte, Fred’s drink choices were a far cry from what George drank, the one time he’d tried a bit of your festive latte some years ago, he promised to never drink one again, sticking to his simple americanos and teas. Fred however, liked to sweeten up his drinks, especially as it drew into winter, you remember a little blush on his cheeks at the irony of the ginger boy asking for a gingerbread latte. You responded to his question with a small shake of your head and a exhaling laugh, “It’s tough, coach works us hard as always, It’s like Oliver and Hooch combined into one - no rest.” he laughs, shaking the image from his thought “I don’t want to think of anything that puts Wood and Hooch in the same person.” you began to laugh with him, your fingers circling over the rim of the coffee cup. Your phone began to buzz, the first one you ignored, but when they kept coming, you picked it up, looking at the messages.

>> I’m fucking fuming right now, Y/N

>> I wish you were here bouncing on my cock with the door wide open for all of the shop to hear

>> You better call your coach and tell her you won’t be going to practice because you’re not gonna be able to walk tomorrow.

>> you’re nothing but a good, pretty little slut for me, aren’t you?

You had to choke down the lump in your throat as you read the messages that were pouring in, getting more and more vulgar as they came. You had absolutely no idea quite what had gotten into George, but nevertheless it made you ache for him. Your stomach felt like it was doing somersaults as you read the latest one.

>> I’m gonna send you to heaven and back, princess.

>> Remember what I said this morning, I want you to keep that cunt soaked for me.

You put your phone face down onto the table, taking a deep breath. “Hello… Earth to Y/N?” your eyes snapped up to the man in front of you, seeing Fred waving his hand in front of your face with a laugh. “You okay, love?” You were blinking so slowly, internalising the messages George had sent you, a thousand images of his hands running all over your body, the sounds of harmonising breaths and the feel of open-mouthed kisses against intimate areas of skin. You were squeezing your thighs together out of habit and out of a need for some friction, your mouth had gone completely dry as you tried to croak out a response to Fred. “Oh, yeah, I’m okay Freddie.”

“What was sending your phone off like that?” he questioned, you weren't sure how to tell the curious boy in front of you that his twin brother was telling his girlfriend in detail how he wanted to absolutely rail her, instead opting for a more simple to explain response, “Oh, It’s just Cherry sending outfit ideas for the launch this weekend, you know how she gets…” he nodded in agreement, his hand reaching across the table to hold yours, It was a sweet gesture but something that felt too foreign to be comfortable. “Shall we head back? You offered, spooning the last piece of the cake into your mouth, Fred nodded.

When you entered the shop, it was too quiet for comfort, you smiled at one of the workers politely as you looked around for any sign of George. When you realised he was nowhere to be seen your eyes settled on Fred who was now shrugging off his jacket, he sighed, as he looked back at you, seeing you lost in your own thoughts once again. His long strides brought him to you quickly, his hands were placed on your shoulders as he stood in front of you. His grip wasn't like your lover's, it was icy and vice-like and for the second time today discomfort fell to the pit of your stomach, It was only when he tilted your chin up and was leaning in that you felt like the coffee and cake that you had eaten was coming back up. Your limbs were forcing you away from the situation as if your fight or flight had just kicked in and suddenly, any ease you once felt around Fred had diminished.

“Jesus, Y/N, what’s so repulsive about me that you can’t even kiss me!” He was speaking quietly, not wanting to cause a scene, his eyes were glazed over with a sadness you had only seen during the war, he took a deep breath before choking out. “You’re supposed to be my girlfriend.” His words hit you like a tonne of bricks, the whole situation felt like a car out of control and suddenly you were in the driver’s seat, there was absolutely nothing you could do to stop it, you were waiting for the inevitable crash and burn.

“But I’m not, am I Freddie?” the nickname you gave him suddenly felt like a dagger straight to the chest, or like a chokehold. He’d been winded, because he realised as he watched you storm out of the shop, that the relationship he had with her was simply a show and he was dumb enough to fall for the ruse. Fred was in love with you.

///TO BE CONTINUED/// chapter four >>>>

taglist // @starlightweasley @slytherinsunrise @gcdric @theweasleysredhair @whiz-bangs78 @weasleysflowr @vogueweasley @minty-malfoy @vivianweasley @feetoffthetablee @thisismynerdyself @rip-us @witch-and-a-half @sarcasticallywitty15 @pandaxnienke @loony-loopy-lupinn @pigwidgexn@starkidpotty @mrmoonyy @mackaywhore @softlyqoos @colorfulprofessornickelangel @fandomscombine @satellitespidey @txtdreamss @aaannabbanana @kaylahmarie

#Fake It Fic #george weasley fic #george weasley #george weasley x reader #fred and george #fred weasley #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley x reader #weasley twins #harry potter #harry potter fic #harry potter writing #harry potter smut #george weasley smut #smut

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illyaana · 3 years

Text

Squiggles - Oikawa Tooru

Thanks to @pocky-writes for this collab! It was so fun to do~ Check out all the other writers involved in the collab here ヾ(•ω•`)o

Tags: Oikawa's POV, Angst, Minor Fluff, Cursing, Kissing, SFW, Manga Spoiler (Oikawa and Iwaizumi's future jobs)

Synopsis: You entered Oikawa's life - and it hasn't been the same ever since. (If I give anymore, it'll be spoilers TwT) (I also named Oikawa's sis Miho-)

Word Count: 4334

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Liked my writing? Do you want a drabble specifically made for you about your love life with a character of your choosing? Check out my 50 followers event over here!

All stories are basically a squiggly line - it has ups and downs with multiple loops in random spots. Some parts might be thicker or shorter than others, but all points of the story make up a giant, huge squiggly line that either brings you joy or sadness. I wanted my story to be as thick and long as possible - to outshine all the other squiggles the world has to offer. It was going to be the best squiggle ever until you came along and made it loopier and uneven.

I remember the first day you came into our class so vividly.

I had rushed to the school to copy Iwa-chan’s homework. The Kitagawa Daiichi blazer I wore was soaked in sweat thanks to me running a few blocks in several minutes. Of course, Iwa was in the classroom, waiting for school to start. He had rolled up his sleeves and was reading the literature component assigned to us - the very book I never touched ever since volleyball practices began.

“You are of a different breed, Oikawa,” Iwa-chan mumbled as he passed his book to me, “This is the last time you’re doing this.”

No, it isn’t.

“Yes, sir.”

I pulled out my book and began to move at top speed, hoping I would finish before class began.

That’s when you opened the door, breaking my concentration.

You were glowing. The school blazer seemed so big on you - as if someone with a bigger physique gave it to you - but you look so precious in it. You had a jump in your step, a wide smile plastered on your face. Your hair looked so soft even from a mile away. You seemed so at peace with everything - even when you entered a new school.

You carried yourself with such confidence it scared me.

I loved being the confident one, the hot one, the cheerful one - yet you stole those roles from me the second you walked into the school campus.

I didn’t know what I felt; was it inferiority or was it just pure admiration? Maybe a combination of both?

All of this… It was so new to me.

I was always surrounded by those who were eager for my approval - to be part of my posse and be connected to me in some way, but I just wanted to be around you. It was the first time I ever took an interest in anyone excluding my volleyball team.

It’s weird, isn’t it? The feeling of warmth rushing through your skin, but your throat just feels tight - it doesn’t want you to say anything you would regret, so it tries to hold you back. Your palms sweat and become clammy, goosebumps rise on your skin - it is so freeing yet restricting.

I wanted to come and welcome you to the school - maybe take you around the school grounds, show off a bit at the gym, find out who you are as a person - if I got lucky, even get your phone number.

“ ‘kawa, are they new? I feel like I’ve never seen them before…” Iwaizumi asked, pulling on my rolled-up sleeve.

Of course, this had to happen, didn’t it?

Iwaizumi tried to cover his red face with his arms, but he was failing miserably. His forehead began to sweat, a trail of water dripping down his chin. His chocolate eyes glowed just like your skin - so much so you could see the hazel flecks within them. His whole arm was covered in raised goosebumps, just like mine.

He was attracted to you.

“I think they are,” I replied, hiding my feelings with a smile, “Why Iwa-chan? Oh my god Iwa, you’re blushing!”

Iwaizumi threw a book to my face, earning a groan from me.

“Shut up, Shittykawa,” he says, blushing in a deeper red, “...but yeah, I think I do.”

“Well, if you want them to swoon for you just like how almost all the girls of the school do for me, I can help you. Just with the daily fee of milk bread during recess, I can turn your single ass into a full-fledged bachelor!” I say, trying to lighten up the mood.

“I'll buy you milk bread for lunch, either way,” he mumbled.

“See? It’s basically free, isn’t it? The best part of it all; it comes with a free gift! A box of milk every day so that you can grow taller-” Book number two found its place on my forehead once again.

“You’re such an idiot,” he says midst chuckling, “Thanks for the offer, Tooru. I think I’ll do this by myself, though.”

“Ok, then! Just so you know, the offer is always on the table,” I smirk, teasing the shorter male even more, “Don’t forget the milk.”

“I am never buying you anything ever again.”

Classes went on as usual, but I couldn’t focus at all.

I kept on staring at you from my seat - enjoying every single thing you did. I saw how you’d raise your shoulders in frustration when you couldn’t understand a question, how you’d bite the end of your pencil when you were focusing on the class, how you’d play with your fingers when you were stressed - I was taking mental notes without even realizing it. I loved all the small little huffs you’d make when you’re agitated. Judging by how you were speeding through most of the questions, you seemed to be a smart student.

I kept on playing small scenarios that I would do to get your attention.

Maybe I’d ask you a question and act like I couldn’t understand the whole topic so that you could tutor me, or I should just ask you about your opinions on the essay topic we discussed in class, or I could tease you about that small thing you did in front of the classroom when the teacher wasn’t looking.

But I would never do that to Iwaizumi.

My mind replayed that small scene of him blushing just at the mere glance of you. If he could, he would’ve already gushed about you to me - tell me all the things I already knew just by looking at you. He’d go on and on about how you squinched your nose when you drank that hot drink a bit too early and burnt your tongue.

His squiggle was already slowly moving around you, making a loop fitted for you and you alone - and I will happily watch from the sidelines when you two finally become a thing.

“Welcome back, Tooru!” My sister said from the kitchen, “Give me a minute, I’m helping mom prepare lunch.”

I placed my bag in front of my room and headed to the kitchen.

“Don’t make poison, please!” I tease her, enjoying the annoyed expression on her face.

“Tooru!” Mom sighed, “We’re inviting our new neighbors for dinner today. Go shower and get ready.”

I stuck my tongue out at my sister, earning an anger-filled hum from my mother. I ran to my room and soon headed to the shower to get ready.

Slinging the white towel on my shoulder, I head back to the kitchen area and set the table for the meal.

“Where are they from again?” Miho asked Mom.

“They’re apparently from Tokyo. The father passed away recently, so the mother had to bring the rest of the family to Miyagi to reduce the financial burden. Sad, isn’t it?” she replied.

“We should help them here and there,” Miho started, “We don’t need to give them money, but maybe help them get used to the city?”

I nodded, but I wasn’t present in the conversation ever since Mom mentioned Tokyo.

“Do they have a kid my age?” I ask, hoping that I’m wrong.

“I think there’s one that just transferred to your school?”

Please, don’t be who I think it is.

The doorbell rang, shaking me out of my thoughts.

I slowly headed to the door, gripping the doorknob tightly as I slowly opened the door.

I was right.

“Hello, Oikawa-san! It’s me, Y/N, from your class,” you said, a smile on your face.

“I just wanted to thank you and your family for your generous offer, but we can’t join you for dinner today,” you started, “Mom has to go get some things settled before she can come for dinner. Sorry, again…”

“What about you? Have you eaten anything yet?” My mom asked as she walked towards the door, “If you want, you can eat dinner here and bring some back for your mom.”

“Really?!” Your lips widened, “Thank you so much, aunty!”

You sat right beside me, just like Iwa-chan does when he comes over. I loved seeing you talk so comfortably with my family. I could see my mom’s adoration towards you when you talked about your life back in Tokyo. Your eyes lit up when you talked about your family - even if you were talking about your father.

You didn’t know it yet, but your presence makes my squiggle a little lighter.

“What school are you going to, Y/N?” Mom asked.

“I’m going to Kitagawa Daiichi like Oikawa-san. I am in his class, actually... “ you trail off.

“Do you want me to walk you to school? I don’t mind doing it, but Iwaizumi would be joining us too. Are you okay with that?” I ask, gripping the ends of my shirt.

For the first time in my life, I hated the fact I had to be beside Iwaizumi.

“Thanks, Oikawa-san. It means a lot,” you smiled.

I regret asking you that question.

I had to see Iwaizumi try to flirt with you.

I had to see how you’d occasionally lean your head on my shoulder when we walked to school until Iwaizumi met up with us in the middle of our walk to school.

I had to see Iwaizumi carry your bag - something I wanted to do.

I had to see Iwaizumi make small jokes to you - something I wanted to do.

I had to see you enjoy Iwaizumi’s presence - something I wanted you to only feel for me.

I had to let it happen in front of me, didn’t I?

Books and movies never compare to the real thing; to see the person you love gush over someone you love like a sibling.

But you were closest to me, not Iwa-chan.

You came to me when you had problems, not Iwa-chan.

You stayed over at my place to relax, not Iwa-chan’s.

You watched movies with me, played games with me, told secrets to me - not Iwa-chan.

Your squiggle intertwined with mine more than Iwa-chan’s.

“Tooru,” you said as you played with the rogue strands of my hair as your head laid on my lap, “Do you want to go out on a trip?”

“What? Why?”

“We’re graduating, but we never had a trip together. It’s weird, isn’t it?” You say, slowly getting up.

I pushed your head back on my lap, earning a muffled squeal from you.

“It isn’t, to be honest,” I say, “...but I do like the idea.”

“So, we’re doing it?” you say as you wiggle your feet in excitement.

“Yeap. I’ll ask Iwa-chan if he wants to join,” I say as I grab my phone.

“I was kind of hoping that it would be just the two of us? I haven’t been able to talk to you without anyone intervening for a long time, and there’s a lot I wanna talk about.”

You looked at me, hoping for some reaction, but I couldn’t say anything.

If I was not friends with Iwaizumi, I would’ve said yes almost immediately.

I know I love you - ever since I saw you, I have.

But Iwaizumi deserves someone amazing like you.

I don’t.

“Tell me, then! I don’t think Mom’s coming home anytime soon and Miho is working right now, so there isn’t anyone who’d disturb us now,” I say through gritted teeth.

I felt your disappointment when you sighed and moved to lie down on my bed.

“I guess I’ll tell you another day.”

I felt your squiggle moving away from me - moving on without mine.

Soon, our one-week trip to Tokyo began.

Thanks to months and months of pestering, our parents let us go by ourselves to the city you grew up in.

I could see everything in your eyes, thanks to your stories about this place. The small, quaint shops, the smell of freshly made Taiyaki at the side of the road, the small kids running on the pavement while being chased by angry parents - all of it.

“Oikawa!” you patted my shoulder, “That’s the bakery I talked about last time. You know, the one with amazing cheese tarts? Oh, that’s where my dad gave me my first cup of coffee!”

Iwaizumi chuckled as he focused on the road, admiring your love for the city.

“Why are you laughing, pine cone hair?” You tease Iwaizumi, trying to get more reactions from him.

“Nothing! You sound cute, that’s all,” he said as he focused on the road.

“Oh, really~?” You move closer to Iwaizumi and whisper something in his ear, making him blush instantly.

There it is.

That icky feeling I hate.

Why did it come now? I was with Y/N and Iwaizumi - the people I care about the most.

Go away.

Get out.

I don’t need you.

“Well, I’ll just chaperone Oikawa then, Hajime. Have fun all by yourself in a huge city you don’t know well,” you say, teasing him even more.

Hajime.

They said Hajime - not Iwaizumi.

“Geez, get a room, you two.”

“Sad I’m taking your husband away, Tooru?”

“The fuck, Y/N!” Both Iwa-chan and I scream.

You laugh as you lean back into the backseat.

“What? You both are an old couple,” you begin, “Oikawa is the flamboyant one and Iwaizumi is the man that’s only gay for Oikawa and actually thinks before doing something.”

“Did everyone think I’m gay for Oikawa?” Iwa says under his breath.

“Yeap,” you reply, “Many girls were sad, to be honest. I kept on telling them you’re straight, but they didn’t listen,” you shrug.

“And me?” I ask.

“You were labelled as the hot pansexual, lucky you,” you reply with an eye roll.

“Why did no one tell me…” Iwaizumi said to himself, worried.

“Honey~,” I began teasing the ‘pinecone’.

“Shut the fuck up, Shittykawa.”

“ ‘Shut the fuck up, Shittykawa’ - why don’t you give an actual nice nickname for the brunette over here,” you ask him, playing with the stressed driver.

“No.”

“Do it or I’m calling you pinecone for the rest of your life.”

“No.”

“Do it or I’ll tell them-” I say before getting cut off by Iwaizumi himself.

“Prettykawa.”

“Holy shit, Y/N,” I wiped my fake tears, “He called me pretty! Darling~”

“Oh my god, Oikawa,” you say, laughing as I hug Iwaizumi’s arm.

Our squiggles were intertwined and in a good way - that’s all that mattered.

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi looked at me with a serious face, “I think I am going to confess to them tonight.”

Wait, you are?

Please don’t.

Don’t take them away from me.

I need them.

Iwaizumi, please don’t.

“Finally! It’s about time you made your move - I think they like you too, so you have a shot.”

It’s true - I see how they stare at you.

Their eyes are filled with admiration, lips fixed in a soft smile, their hands grazing your cheek - they love you as much as you love them, Iwaizumi.

“Thanks for supporting me, Tooru. It really means a lot to me,” he says as he hugged me, “Thanks for being my best friend.”

I haven’t been a good friend, Iwa.

I fell for the same person.

I want to steal them from you so badly, but I can’t bring myself to hate you.

I want to hate you so bad, but I can’t.

This feeling… I hate it.

“Thanks for being mine, too.” I smiled, but the smile never reached my eyes.

You’re taking them away from me, Iwaizumi.

You could’ve gotten anyone else, but you took them away from me.

I don’t want to feel this - this hatred growing within, yet here I am, cursing you in my head the minute I see you.

“Go! Why are you wasting time?” I say, pushing you towards the door.

I saw the smile you gave me as you ran to her room.

You are such an amazing person, Iwa-chan.

You can care for someone who deeply hates you.

I saw how they were basically draped around you for the next few days. They looked so happy just to be beside you.

Each day, their eyes spoke stories of love for you, Iwa. They used to come over to my place and gush about you every day, like a ritual.

You’re so fucking lucky, Iwaizumi. This isn’t fair.

They’d go on and on about your physique, your personality and the small things you’d do.

Congratulations, they finally paid attention to the things you did for them. I’m happy for you, Iwa.

I am happy for the two of you, truly.

They are truly happy.

I could’ve never done that - never.

I just wish I wasn’t walking towards the gym that day.

I saw your first kiss under that tree - the tree the three of us used to spend under while waiting for practice to start.

I saw how their hands gripped on the back of your head, pressing themselves on you. I saw how you gripped their hips oh so tightly as you showed them your passion towards them. I saw how breathless they looked the minute your lips left theirs. I saw how they grazed your chin whilst staring into your eyes in admiration.

I pictured how it would’ve been if I was in your position.

I would’ve held them tighter, pressed my forehead against theirs so that our noses would brush against each other. They’d play with the ends of my hair, going on and on about how soft each lock was like they usually do. They’d eye my lips as I stared at their soft and supple lips. I’d press the tip of my thumb on their bottom lip, enjoying the view of their parted lips made just for me and me alone. Slowly, I would kiss their cheeks, hoping for some cute reaction from them. From their cheeks, I would drag my lips to their chin, placing soft kisses here and there.

I would then press my lips against theirs, enjoying the soft noises escaping their lips.

But I never will - you’re theirs as they’re yours.

Of all places, why did you have to choose there?

I can’t come back here without thinking about that kiss now.

That icky feeling…

It’s back.

Go away.

Get out of me.

I am happy.

“Damn, Iwaizumi,” Matsun said as he approached the gym, “Y/N’s really in love with them, huh?”

“Shut it, Matsun,” Maki said, looking at me.

Of course, he’d notice.

I am in love with his friend's girlfriend, after all.

“What? He’s telling the truth; they’re so in love with each other they can’t even see that three people saw their first kiss!” I shouted, earning a growl from the black-haired male hugging Y/N.

“Out of all the times, Shittykawa…”

“You better run, he looks feral!” You shouted, laughing.

“You sure he wasn’t feral ever since he initiated that kiss? I saw that hand wandering, Iwaizumi~!” Matsukawa shouted as he ran to the gym.

“Iwaizumi isn’t innocent anymore. You aren’t part of the gang anymore man, stay back,” Hanamaki said, wiping a fake tear whilst gripping his sides, “You’ve grown up too quick, Iwa-senpai.”

“You okay, ‘kawa?” Maki said as he turned to me, rubbing my back.

“I am fine, Maki. Go ahead - go to the gym, I’ll come in a minute,” I gave him a nod as I walked to the toilet.

That day was the first day I cried over someone in school, and hopefully the last.

“Tooru… Tohru…” You mumbled.

“Yes, my name is similar to the main character’s. What about it?” I sigh.

“We should get you a cat. Who knows, you might kiss it and it’ll become a girl?” Iwa chirped.

“That’s a cat version of Princess and the Frog,” I say, annoyed.

“Stupid,” you hit Iwa’s thigh, “Get with the program.”

Iwa groaned as he rubbed his leg, “That was really painful, dumbass.”

“Tohru, he called me dumbass,” you whined.

“I am not Tohru - it’s Tooru.”

“Brown hair, all of the people around them falling in love with them, high pitched voice… that’s you,” Iwa joked.

“Major flaw in your theory - I am not a girl.”

“Alternate universe Tohru then,” you said, enjoying the banter.

“Tohru plays with animals, I play with a volleyball team.”

“How do you know she isn’t in a volleyball team? It was never specified she isn’t part of a volleyball team.”

“It’s never specified that she is part of a volleyball team,” I say, clearly annoyed by this conversation.

“I’m getting you a cat - a ginger one,” Iwa said, grabbing his phone from the side table.

“Don’t get me a cat!”

“Get him a cat, love. He doesn’t know it yet, but he’ll love it,” you said, leaning against Iwaizumi’s chest to see his phone screen.

“Holy shit,” you said, holding back a laugh, “He’s actually looking-”

“Iwaizumi Hajime!” I scream, making both Iwaizumi and you laugh loudly.

“I was looking at a cat meme, stupid.”

I sign out of frustration and look back at the TV screen, avoiding the mischievous couple.

I eyed the way they were sitting on the couch.

You were seated in between Iwaizumi’s legs, their back pressed against his front. Their hands played with Iwaizumi’s left hand, fiddling with his fingers as they stared at the screen in front of them. Iwaizumi wasn’t looking at the screen though - he was staring at his lover who was fully immersed in the scene unfolding in front of them. His right hand grazed their right hand, enjoying the feeling of them comfortable in his arms.

You looked happy, and that’s all that mattered.

The last episode soon finished and you looked to the ceiling, stretching your neck.

“So sad it’s over,” you said, smiling.

“At least it had a good ending. I don’t think I need to remind you how heartbroken you were when we watching Banana Fish’s-”

“Don’t remind me - I’ll cry here and now.”

You got off the couch and walked towards the kitchen to get a drink.

“So,” you plopped on the couch, leaning against Iwa, “What’s the final plan, Mr Tohru?”

“What do you mean?”

“Your life after high school, of course! What’s the plan? I know Hajime is planning to be a trainer, but you never told me what your plan is.”

Hajime.

Again with the Hajime.

Just use Iwaizumi, for fuck’s sake.

“...Tooru?”

I snap out of my thoughts. “Oh.”

“You’ve been out of it recently. You’re okay, right?” You say as you walk to sit beside me.

I chuckle, looking at your concerned face.

“I’m good - just stressed about life, that’s all. I am not so sure as to what’s the next step, but it’s going pro.”

You hug me from the side, placing your head on my shoulder.

“Hey, what’s wrong with you, now? Aren’t you scared that you might make Hajime jealous?” I tease.

“I don’t know - I just feel I need to do this, like a feeling that you might do something rash.”

I felt tears wet the side of my shirt.

My eyes darted to the sight of you, sobbing, gripping on my shirt.

“Don’t you dare forget me, okay?” You say through sniffles, “I sure as hell won’t forget you.”

I cup your face in my hands, wiping off the trailing tears.

“I won’t.”

You made a huge loop on my squiggle, Y/N - I don’t I can ever forget you.

TO: Y/N (2:30 a.m.)

It’s been so many years, Y/N.

You’ve blossomed into the amazing person I knew you’d be.

I saw Iwa-chan recently - after all, he’s training the Japan team.

I actually made it into a team - the Argentinian Volleyball team.

I kept on doubting myself, but you kept on reminding me of how good of a setter I was back in high school.

I know you’re busy being the big person in your industry - congrats on all the awards again, I keep forgetting to contact you.

If you’re down, maybe we can call? I miss your voice.

I sent the message, hoping you’d reply as fast as you used to when we were in high school.

I looked from the hotel window, trying to imagine how the scenery is back home in Miyagi.

The roaring fields, the birds flying in the sky as we walked down that small pathway, that traffic light you’d draw on while waiting for the cars to pass - I remembered it all.

I remembered it all just because you were part of it.

Funny, isn’t it? After so many years, I still think of you.

Not as my friend’s lover, but mine.

I shouldn’t have invited Iwaizumi to that trip.

I should’ve just kept you all to myself - protect you from the world.

I should’ve just kept Iwaizumi out of your life - not let him in at any point.

I should’ve just told him how I feel about you.

I tried so hard to get over you, Y/N.

I met so many other people, hoping they could fill up the hole you left when you left me for him. I had so many sour relationships just because I was comparing them to the rhetorical you that I dated. If the world had given me a second chance, I would be standing beside you - I would work to provide for you the best the world had to offer.

But in the end, your squiggle was meant to grow without mine. I had to accept it and move on, as much as it hurts.

Covid 19: Angst train :)

All reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated!!!

#�� pocky's 500 collab #Illyaana | Oikawa Tooru #Illyaana | Aoba Johsai #Illyaana | Third Years #Illyaana | Haikyuu!!#oikawa tooru #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa x reader #oikawa x y/n #angelwalker's virtues #oikawa x you #oikawa toru x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x self insert #haikyuu x reader #hihqnetwork

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crazy-loca-blog · 2 years

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Personal Thoughts on... The Choices VIP Experience (2022 Edition)

Note: As the title says, these are just personal opinions on Choices books and chapters. Of course, you may agree or disagree with them, I only use this platform to express my thoughts on what I read every week and what I’d like to see in the next chapters, because none of my friends play Choices so I have no one to comment the books with.

I already did a post about this as soon as the VIP feature was released to everyone back in 2020 and a lot of things have happened in this almost year and a half, so I thought about sharing an updated post on it and how things are going so far. Please note that this post will be long and that this is only an opinion based on my VIP experience, other players’ experience may be completely different.

There are still a few things that remain the same about my game: I still use a lot of diamonds, and I’m almost up to date with every single book in the app. However, I don’t play as often as I used to, mainly because we don’t have as many weekly releases as we used to have 3 or 4 years ago.

So, what has changed in my game since I became VIP?

Keys:

This is by far my favorite perk of the VIP feature. The fact that you don’t have to wait hours to recharge your keys when you’re replaying a book (ahem, Open Heart) or that you don’t have the temptation to buy keys bundles anymore is just great. There is absolutely nothing wrong with this. Except for the fact that we’re currently getting only two new chapters per week. So, non-VIP players, you’re not missing a lot here.

Diamonds:

I used to do heavy diamond purchases once a month. Now I can safely say I only purchase diamonds twice or three times a year. One of the reasons behind this change is that, again, we’re not getting as many releases as we used to, so of course, I’m not spending as many diamonds as I used to. But the other one is most definitely the VIP feature. Let’s see:

You get 180 diamonds when you purchase the subscription (there is a little trick to get those 180 diamonds every month and not only once, but I haven’t tried it because I always forget it).

You get 10 diamonds every day, that is, 300 diamonds in a 30-day month (just make sure to set an alarm and collect your diamonds every day, otherwise you’ll lose them).

You get 4 diamonds after finishing every new chapter you complete (but 1 diamond for every chapter you replay, with a maximum of 6 diamonds per day, just like the non-VIP players).

You still have access to the same challenges as non-VIP players: 3 daily diamonds by watching ads; 1 daily check-in diamond; 2 diamonds for completing 3 chapters; and 15 diamonds for completing a book. Also, you may get up to 6 diamonds a day if you watch the ads at the end of every chapter.

Of course, if you’re into diamond farming (I’m not), there is always a good chance to get a bunch of daily diamonds per day without necessarily getting the VIP subscription (I’ve seen some non-VIP players getting up to 29 diamonds in one day, that’s more than twice the amount of diamonds you get if you stick to collect the 14 diamonds that are available on a daily basis for VIP players without playing any chapter).

Books:

This has been the most controversial thing about the VIP feature, especially in the last few days. Let me explain you why:

When the VIP feature was first available, there were books that were released to all the players in the app and there were books that were exclusively VIP for a period (around a year). This system is still being applied to Ms. Match and Slow Burn.

However, since the release of Wake the Dead, the system is different. Now basically every book is released as VIP first, and it becomes available for non-VIP players about two months later.

Of course, this is awesome if you consider that non-VIP players don’t have to wait a full year to finally be able to read a book. However, this new system is causing problems for VIP players because of PB’s terrible decisions when it comes to release schedules.

I’ll use Wake the Dead as an example, but something similar is going on with Crimes of Passion:

The first chapter for VIP players was released on October 27, 2021.

The first chapter for non-VIP players was released on December 29, 2021.

The same day the book was released for non-VIP players, Pixelberry announced the book would go on a two-month hiatus only for VIP players (it was just announced the book will be back on February 16).

During all the time that VIP players have been on a mid-book break, non-VIP players have been playing their chapters as scheduled, with no interruptions.

So, the main problem I see here is that, in the end, it doesn’t matter if you’re VIP or not, you still must wait two months at some point of the story. Non-VIP players wait two months to start playing a book. And while VIP players don’t have to wait at the beginning of the story, they’re dealing with two-month hiatuses in the middle of it. And if you ask me, this is a HUGE mistake, especially because one of the original perks of the VIP subscription was, precisely, not having to wait to play a book.

So, would I recommend getting the VIP feature? Overall, at this moment, no. I simply don’t feel there is a big difference between VIP players and non-VIP players. However, if you want me to be more specific, I’d say:

YES if you read a lot of chapters a day, because you’ll put the unlimited keys to good use.

YES if you have a bunch of unread books, because you may get up to 5 diamonds at the end of the new chapters.

YES if you tend to spend money on diamonds and/or keys. Believe me, you’ll save A LOT of money.

NO if you’re into farming diamonds, as you may get a good bunch of them every day only by replaying books.

NO if you’ve already played all the books in the app, as you’ll only be getting one diamond at the end of every chapter.

NO if you don’t replay old books, as we’re getting only two new chapters a week, so you won’t need the unlimited keys.

#playchoices #choices stories you play #vip books #choices vip books #vip books choices #crimes of passion #wake the dead #surrender

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pixelgrotto · 2 years

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The good and bad of the fourth Indy

When it comes to classic point 'n click adventure games, there are two companies that dominated the '90s - Sierra and LucasArts. Between these two, I've always been a dedicated Sierra dude. I've written here at length about some of my favorites like the Quest for Glory and Gabriel Knight series, and while detractors of Sierra's output have valid points (deaths and dead ends in their games were far too prevalent), I've always just found their titles more gripping than LucasArts' output.

That said, there certainly are LucasArts adventures that loom large in my mind. The Monkey Island games are good examples (especially the first one) and Indiana Jones and the Fate of Atlantis is another. When I was growing up, I had a definite fascination with the latter, finding it thrilling that Indiana's fabled fourth outing had been visualized in computer game format - and as a point 'n click adventure, no less! LucasArts put out an advertorial magazine around this time called The Adventurer, and I remember poring over Fate of Atlantis screenshots as a kid, really wanting to experience the quest of Indy and Sophia Hapgood.

I didn't end up playing Fate of Atlantis as a child, probably because I never saw it in stores and the one LucasArts Archives collection I got my dad to buy me didn't have the game inside. (It was Archive Vol. III, for those in the know.) So I think the first time I experienced it was in high school on some Abandonware site. I liked it, though I did find the game a smidgeon overrated at the end of the day, possibly because I also played Gabriel Knight: Sins of the Fathers for the first time around then and was blown away in comparison.

Flash forward to 2021, and for some reason I was hit with the urge to play Fate of Atlantis again. To make the experience more fun, I decided to order the Dark Horse Comics tie-in series on eBay, which took the general ideas from the game's script and divided them up into four issues. Overall, I enjoyed both the game and the comic, though once again, there's that slight feeling of "hmmm, a tad overrated" that came into my head once I was done.

There's a lot that Fate of Atlantis does well. The story's kind of a retread of Raiders of the Lost Ark (and even ends in the same way with Nazis transforming into hideous creatures), but it's an interesting enough dive into the lore of the lost city as established by Plato. The soundtrack, delivered by LucasArt's immersive iMuse sound system (which synchronized music to whatever was happening on screen) is full of catchy themes, and I'm listening to it as I write this. The puzzles mostly make sense in the beginning, though halfway through they start to reach the typical ‘90s status of "wow, how the heck could you figure this out without a hint book?”

Fate of Atlantis' strongest point is definitely its replay value. There are three routes through the game - the Team Path, the Wits Path and the Fists Path. The Team Path has Indy and Sophia travelling together to find Atlantis, the Wits Path has Indy going it alone but relying on his noggin for harder puzzles, and the Fists Path is the so-called "action" one, where Indy gets to punch Nazis in the face. When I first played Fate of Atlantis all those years ago, I chose the Team Path, since it seems like the sensible one with the love interest and all that. This time, I chose the Fists Path, since I wanted to bash stuff. The amount of new scenes that I saw were impressive, including a desert camel trek and an arcade-style hot air balloon sequence that I don't recall experiencing the first time around. The combat, a carryover from LucasArts' adaptation of Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, was a mess of endless clicking on bad guys, but the sheer amount of replayability evident in the game was great. Maybe in another couple of years I'll try the Wits path!

There were definite foibles that ground my gears, though. Chief among them was a general lack of urgency, despite the fact that Indy and Sophia are supposed to be racing the Nazis against the clock. It's funny to point this out, because unlike other LucasArts games, which had a famous "you can't die" policy, Indy actually can bite the dust here. But despite this fact, there are so many instances in Fate of Atlantis where Indy can walk into a Nazi about to kill him, go "Whoops, made a wrong turn," and gently walk away without his foe even bothering to pursue. There's also a section of the game in Monte Carlo where you're supposed to find a certain person, and all you need to do is study the patterns of the three or so NPCs that wander back and forth around the screen (without ever stopping) and click on the right one. I know this is all part of LucasArts' style of making their adventure games kind on the player, but it always struck me that everything in Fate of Atlantis was gently waiting for me to choose the right option rather than dynamically reacting to my actions. I guess I like my adventure games with a bit more edge, or maybe I just noticed this dissonance more with a property like Indiana Jones - where danger’s supposed to be prevalent - as opposed to a comedic franchise like Monkey Island. Nevertheless, I still feel like there's a middle ground between this hand holding and the blunt deaths that always occurred in Sierra games.

I was also surprised by how much the game drags once you've actually reached Atlantis. I didn't remember the finale from my first playthrough at all, possibly because Atlantis is one giant maze full of doodads that you need to collect in order to operate ancient robots and solve obtuse headscratchers. (Here's where I truly began to feel the need for a hint book.) And once you're out of the first maze and uncover a hidden underground layer of the city, you're immediately presented with a SECOND maze which relies upon navigating through a series of archways and is totally randomized each playthrough, with Indy forced to start from the beginning if you mess up. Arghhh, now that's some wacky '90s adventure game design for ya!

Most of all, though...I forgot how much of a terrible sidekick Sophia Hapgood is. She barely does anything for the entirety of the game! I think the Team Path treats her better than the Fists Path, obviously, but even in that one she ends up getting kidnapped at the end and doesn't assist much with the puzzles except for a small handful of instances where you can control her. Sophia's definitely supposed to be more like Raiders' Marion Ravenwood than Temple of Doom's Willie Scott, but unfortunately she comes across as the latter more than the former, and in the context of an adventure game, she's treated like a walking, talking inventory object. Not that Indiana Jones movies have necessarily excelled with their female characters (there was a creepy detail that emerged a while back about how the original script for Raiders indicated that a 15-year-old Marion had an affair with a 27-year-old Indy), but Sophia's not really a love interest, aside from two quick smooches near the end of the game. She's just...there, kinda doing nothing aside from occasionally calling Indy a bozo.

The comic version of Fate of Atlantis fixes this, making her far more interesting. The comic's pretty solid, I will say, and amps up the urgency of the story by tossing the puzzles out the window. But while reading it and ruminating on the fact that this was first time I'd consumed so much Indiana Jones content in over a decade, I found myself guffawing as I realized that Dr. Jones is truly a TERRIBLE archeologist. I mean, what a looter this dude is, and at least Lara Coft is actually honest about being a Tomb Raider! Hah, I guess this is common knowledge amongst real archeologists or folks who watched the movies as adults, but as someone whose biggest Indy memories come from childhood, it was an eye-opener to see him crap on an ancient civilization by calling the construction of Atlantis "primitive.” It kind of makes me a little reluctant to go back and watch the films. I already knew that Temple of Doom was full of bad Indian stereotypes, but now I know for sure that Dr. Jones hasn't aged all that well for my 2021 sensibilities!

All that aside, I am glad I played through Fate of Atlantis again, even if I don't consider it to be the adventure game pinnacle. It's a well-made translation of the pulp vibe that the Indy movies were meant to evoke, and the replay value is truly something special. I do wonder, though, what Sierra could've done if they'd gotten their mitts on the Indy license. I know, I know... There probably would've been deaths aplenty, including a death where you click the whip on Indy and he uses it to accidentally lash himself into an early grave. I can dream!

#pixel grotto #favorites #indiana jones and the fate of atlantis #fate of atlantis #indiana jones #lucasarts

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taetaespeaches · 3 years

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“You’re not buying our kids $600 shoes.”

namjoon x reader (or oc) genre: fluff word count: 2.1K

a/n: This fic takes place around the time Namjoon showed off those cute little baby shoes in his studio :( so early 2019?? so Joon and Daisy have been going strong a few months shy of a year and well, they’re already talking about babies (in the future) because you know, why not? They’re soulmates, they know what they want. Thanks for reading and I hope you all enjoy! :))

WITH your heavy workload, you hadn’t been able to visit Namjoon in the studio for quite some time and you missed it. There was a special appreciation you felt for the man as you watched him in his element.

Choosing to take a long lunch, you picked up some food and decided to surprise your man with some takeout and, well, you. Knowing the door was unlocked, you chose to knock anyway, just to tease your boyfriend by making him get up to answer the door.

“Come in,” his voice called out, you smirking to yourself as you simply knocked again. “Yeah, come in,” he welcomed again. One more knock, and you were met with silence as you awaited his appearance in the door frame. It didn’t take long for him to cross the space of his studio, the door opening to reveal you, leaning against the wall as you held the bag of food down at your leg.

“Delivery,” you smirked, Namjoon’s lips spreading into a happy grin as his eyes widened and brightened in excitement.

“Daisy,” he greeted happily, “Babe, what are you doing here?” He asked, stepping toward you, wrapping an arm around your lower back, pulling you into a sweet kiss.

“Well this is just way too much food to eat by myself,” you joked, gesturing to the bag by lifting your hand slightly. “Plus, I missed you,” you kissed him again. “Missed seeing you work,” you mumbled against his lips.

“I missed you too,” he replied with a grin. “Get in here,” he told you as he tugged you forward, pulling you both inside the studio before he shut the door.

You always loved Namjoon’s studio. It was perfectly decorated to represent his personality, and he took great pride in the space. The room had always been very comfortable. Like a second home.

“How long do I get you for?” He asked as he took the bag from you, setting it on the table the sat in front of his sofa.

“Um,” you thought as you looked around the space, noticing small changes in the placement of certain figures and books. “I have about an hour.”

“That’ll do,” he grinned, approaching you once again, taking your hand in his, leading you to the couch. “Thank you for visiting,” he told you genuinely. “And for the food,” he added, nodding toward the takeout boxes.

“Don’t thank me yet,” you smirked, “I could have brought all seafood, you don’t know yet.”

Looking to the boxes with wide eyes, Namjoon took a moment to crack a smile. “Then I’ll watch you eat,” he countered, you giggling as you reached to open the boxes, revealing various dishes Joon loved. “You’re amazing,” he complimented, placing a hand on your thigh as he leaned toward you, leaving a kiss to your exposed neck.

“It sounds like work should slow down a bit pretty quick then, right?” He asked, wiping his hands on a napkin as you reached to close up the boxes, having devoured the meal.

“Yeah, hopefully,” you confirmed. “If everything goes to plan.”

“I’m sure it will,” he assured you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Thanks, Dimples,” you smiled graciously. “Are you working on anything right now?” You asked, nodding to the computer.

“Ah,” he exclaimed excitedly, you smiling fondly at his reaction. “The song is about done but I’ve been recording some adlibs to be added into the vocal sections. Just a bit. Right now they’re divided.” Humming in thought, you nodded. “You want to hear it?”

“Yes, please,” you replied enthusiastically, Namjoon standing and quickly approaching his computer.

“How much time do you have left?” He asked as he sat in his chair, you checking your phone for the time.

“Uh, ten minutes,” you told him, Namjoon nodding as he pulled up the track.

“Perfect,” he whispered as he clicked a few things before starting the song. “Ok, tell me what you think.”

The song started with a groovy R&B sound, and you instantly knew it would be a fan favorite. Jimin started with the first verse, his vocals light and airy and as perfect as ever. Then Taehyung sang a verse, the vocals richer and just as good. When Namjoon’s verse kicked in, you sat up, taking in the words and the delivery. The man knew exactly what he was doing when it came to music and he never failed to amaze you.

“This song is incredible, holy shit,” you told him. “You sound great.” The man turned in his chair to flash you a thankful smile, a slight shyness in his features. No matter how many times you complimented him, he never did get used to it.

The song was the kind of song that you almost just couldn’t help but dance to. It was also the kind of song you didn’t want to end. However, the ending was absolute perfection with Jungkook and Taehyung switching line for line before Taehyung did a small run, marking the official completion of the track.

Namjoon stared at you expectantly, you tossing your hands in the air. “That’s a fucking bop, babe, oh my god,” you smiled. “I’m obsessed with that, play it again.”

Chuckling at your sincere enthusiasm, he dipped his head down, looking toward his lap. “It’s good?”

“I think the words I used were a fucking bop,” you clarified. “It’s so good, I think your fans are going to lose their minds over that one.” The man breathed out a sigh of relief, looking at you with bright eyes as he smiled. “You said you’re recording adlibs?”

“Yeah, just to make the song sound more cohesive and rich,” he told you, you nodding quickly in understanding.

“I think that would be good,” you agreed, pretending as though you knew anything about music production. You had no real clue what you were saying, but you knew Namjoon sometimes just needed a boost in confidence over his decisions. “You know what’s best,” you assured him. “It’s going to be even better when it’s all done.”

Giving you a shy smile, he nodded his head a single time, almost as if he was respectfully bowing at you, making you giggle. “Thank you,” he said genuinely, you waving him off.

“Now, play it again,” you grinned. “I need to place it in my memory so I can replay it until the album comes out.”

Laughing, Namjoon turned back to the computer, restarting the track. As you listened, you began cleaning off the small table, placing the boxes in the bag before taking it to the trash can that sat across the room. The song filling the room, you looked around at Namjoon’s belongings, appreciating his collection of toys and figures. He was beyond endearing.

And then you spotted them. And your heart fluttered before butterflies formed in your belly. Utterly endearing.

You could feel Namjoon’s eyes on you as you reached for the small pair of shoes, holding them against your chest. Turning to face your soft boyfriend, you pouted. “What are these?”

Flashing his dimples at you, he chuckled shyly, covering his mouth in slight embarrassment as he lowered the volume on the track, which you later learned was titled ‘Home’. “I thought they were cute.”

“You’re cute,” you told him, looking down at the shoes. “Who buys baby shoes because they think they’re cute?” You giggled. “Oh my god, I love you so much.”

“Come here,” he told you, smiling widely at your reaction to the objects. Walking toward him, you carried the shoes in one hand, your other hand resting on his shoulder as his arms wrapped around your thighs. Tugging on you, you complied, sitting on his lap, placing the shoes in your lap.

“They are very cute,” you cooed, Namjoon smiling against your cheek before pressing a kiss to it.

“They would be super cute on a baby too, don’t you think?” He questioned, his shy demeanor mixing with his forward question.

“Do you ever think about having children together?” You asked him, skipping the passiveness of his hints, boldly jumping into the topic.

Smiling softly at you, he rested his dimpled cheek against your shoulder, toying with the little fringe on the shoe in your lap. “Why do you think I bought these?” Turning toward him, you kissed the side of his head affectionately.

“You’re the most adorable man ever,” you complimented, Namjoon letting out a breathy laugh at your comment. “You know I think about it too, right?” You asked him, Namjoon humming thoughtfully. “Someday. Like, I can wait to have kids, but I can’t wait to have kids with you,” you told him, causing Namjoon to lift his head to look into your eyes. “Does that make sense?”

Nodding his head, he shot you a dimply close-mouthed grin. “I can’t wait to have kids with you either,” his smile opened beautifully. Placing his forehead against your own, your hand moved from his shoulder to hold the side of his face.

“I seriously can’t wait to make you a dad, babe,” you pouted, Namjoon kissing your pouted lips quickly. “I almost think you were born to be a father.” Above all else, Namjoon really wanted children. It was his dream to be a dad, which you had briefly talked about before but never in depth. But you knew how excited he was about the possibility of having kids in the future, and it was impossible not to think about that possibility being a shared future. You knew Namjoon would be a natural at parenthood, and that was confirmed by the way his eyes teared up at your genuine compliment.

“I love you so much,” he confessed passionately, emphasizing the words in a way that told you he meant the confession with every fiber of his being as he kissed you once more. “I’m so excited to see you be a mother, babe, I think about it more than I’m even willing to admit,” he chuckled, you giggling with him, resting your cheek on his as you kissed the side of his nose through your smile.

“One day,” you told him. “I promise.” You moved to kiss is cheeks, peppering his face in pecks, the man squeezing the tops of your thighs as he laughed.

“These will probably be out of style by then, huh?” He thought out loud, patting the little shoes you still held onto.

“Mm, the little one could bring back the style. We’ll be raising a trend setter,” you smirked, Namjoon’s eyes widening in excitement. Oh god, combining fashion and children had to be Namjoon’s ultimate fantasy. Lifting the shoes to inspect them further, you pulled your eyebrows together skeptically. “Joon, are these designer?”

“Hm?” He questioned, pretending he didn’t hear your question.

“Namjoon. How much were these?” The man evaded your gaze looking back to his computer to check the time. “Joon.”

“Ah, dang it, it looks like your lunch hour is up,” he shot you a pout, you holding back a smile as you shook your head at him.

“$400?” You questioned, the man shaking his head. “More?” Namjoon shrugged. “$500?” Silence. “Namjoon, no,” you fought back your growing grin. “$600?”

“Not quite,” he countered, you sighing as your lips fully curved upward.

“You’re ridiculous,” you told him fondly as you placed the shoes very carefully on his desk. “I’ll let you handle those.” Standing from his lap the man chuckled at your reaction to the overpriced baby shoes.

“They’re so cute though, look at them,” he defended in a whiny tone. “They’re worth it, aren’t they?”

Shooting him a slight glare, you hummed. “Sure, Dimples,” you teasingly agreed. “I’ll see you at home,” you bid him farewell, placing a kiss to his lips before you headed towards the door.

“See you at home, Daisy,” he called out, watching you walk away.

“I love you,” you told him as you created more distance between you both “but you’re not buying our kids $600 shoes,” you informed him as you opened the door.

“They weren’t even $600, stop exaggerating,” he smiled as you stepped outside.

“It’s not happening,” you yelled to him just before the door shut, separating you from the man until you both arrived home later that night.

As Namjoon sat in his studio, chuckling to himself fondly as he stared at the baby shoes, you walked down the corridor, giggling to yourself about the silly soft man that you absolutely planned to marry and have kids with one day. And though that day was still far off, you were both picturing it vividly in that moment. And it was perfect.

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brian-bloody-may · 3 years

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hi, love!! may i please request something with bri? enemies to lovers would be spectacular, but anything fluffy on your mind will do!! thank you so much 🥺🥺🥺

Hi! You’re my first ask :D I absolutely adore the enemies to lovers trope, though I’ve never actually written a fic using it! It's a little different however than the usual trope so keep that in mind. I accidentally ended up writing more than 4,000 words for this one (I was aiming at making it less than 2000 words jfsljgalk) and I think maybe some parts are stupid or don’t make sense, but I think it’s cute at least and it’s fluff and angst so what more can you ask for? Enjoy! Thanks for the prompt!!! I think I’ll call this “A Hard Day’s Night” lol

Slight tw for cursing

You didn’t mean for it to be this way, it just sort of….happened. You liked to think you didn’t have any enemies, I mean, you didn’t talk a lot, you didn’t have a lot of friends and you kept a low profile. You minded your own business, plain and simple. So how you ended up despising your neighbor across the hall from you was truly a shock to yourself.

It’s not like you didn’t have a reason though. Looking back, perhaps you had overreacted but....no, you had a perfectly valid reason. You sigh, you didn’t want to think about it anymore. You shut your eyes and laid back in your bed, and still you couldn’t stop replaying the day’s events over and over in your head.

It was, perhaps, one of the worst days you had had in the past few months. School was piling up, you were behind on no less than 3 assignments, you had an approaching test and you most certainly weren’t prepared. You had bills to pay, groceries to buy unless you wanted to starve. And now, the cherry on top, your mother had called to tell you that your father had been in a bad car accident, and that he was in the hospital with multiple broken bones. The pressure was piling and piling and piling.

So, after the worst week you’ve had in a very long time, all you wanted to do was go back to your shitty apartment and cry. Fate, apparently, had other plans. You entered your building and began walking up the steps. Truthfully, you hadn’t fully noticed the loud voices coming from somewhere farther up in the building, but as you got closer to your floor you realized it was coming from the hallway in front of your room. As you stepped into the hall, you noticed 4 men, 3 of them laughing and joking around, while the other man locked the door behind them preparing to go who knows where. You recognized him as your next door neighbor whom you had never actually spoken to.

The sight of them had only caught you off guard for a second before realizing that, actually, you couldn’t care less who they were or what they were doing, as you only wanted to be in bed. As you walked towards them, all 4 noticed you, you kept your head low. You noticed out of the side of your eye that a blonde one had elbowed another one of the men, before walking towards you slightly with a confident and arrogant attitude that had already begun to piss you off. Then he spoke.

“Hello, gorgeous.” he said.

You heard one of them groan in annoyance, and another, which you realized after was your neighbor, chastise him.

“Roger, please.” he said

“What? I was only being nice”

Through all of this, you kept your head down and you didn’t stop to give him the satisfaction. You would have to walk past them to get to your apartment, so you kept going. Then you heard your neighbor speak once again.

“Oh, hey, I think I left something inside, let me get it.” and he quickly unlocked the door and went in, leaving the other 3 in the hallway. Right before you were about to pass them, the blonde, Roger, once again made a move, moving right in front of your path and leaning against the wall on his elbow in a stupid attempt of looking appealing. His other 2 friends, one with black hair and one with brown hair, both rolled their eyes.

“I’m Roger,” he said with a sly smile, sticking out his hand for you to shake.

“Piss off,” you replied.

The two other men, though they seemed annoyed with his antics, didn’t think to move out of the way to let you through the cramped hallway, so you opted for pushing yourself through forcefully, slightly knocking Roger off his balance.

“Hey!” he yelled, offended. As you went past he put his hand on your shoulder, and in one quick moment of rage, you snapped and turned around.

“Listen to me, asshole. If you ever fucking touch me ever again, you will be so sorry. I’ve dealt with men who love to harass women, I’ve seen it all, and you’re just as bad as them. You do not have the right. So next time you even think about laying a hand on me or any other woman you’ve ever bothered, take a moment to think about what a piece of shit you are.”

In the moment you hadn’t noticed it, but your neighbor had found whatever he had been looking for and was now back outside in the hallway, locking up his apartment again as you went off on his friend. As you finished, you saw the look of shock on all 4 of the men’s faces. Whatever they had been expecting, it wasn’t that. Roger put his arms up in defense.

“Woah, I’m sorry.” he said half apologetically.

You turned on your heels and walked away, not suffering one more second of interaction. You heard your neighbor behind you saying something to them. It registered for a moment that he sounded angry.

You were already looking for your keys in your bag as you approached your door after what seemed like a 5 minute ordeal. In reality, the events from the moment you got to the top of the steps to the moment you reached your door couldn’t have been longer than a minute, but doesn’t anger always make you perceive things differently? You were already fiddling with your keys and were about to unlock your door when you noticed that your neighbor had run up next to you before you got into your room.

“Look, I am so, so sorry for my friend’s behavior. Roger can be....a pain” he said as he rubbed his neck awkwardly.

You merely looked at him, anger still blurring your head.

“Um, if there’s anything I can do, you know, to make up for it, please let me kn-”

And before he could finish, you were walking into your apartment and slamming the door shut in his face. You had no room for niceties, no room for forgiveness at the moment. You turned around and slammed the keys on the kitchen counter. You thought that he might try to knock, or to say something on the other side of the door, but you heard nothing more and forgot about it. Your only mission was to cry like you had never cried before, so you walked to your bedroom, shut the door, and fell face first onto your bed. And then came the tears.

For the next few hours you had gone through a sad and vicious cycle. Cry, wipe your tears away, compose yourself, pick up the book next to your bed to try to move your mind away from your problems, remember your problems, and cry some more. Honestly, it was therapeutic. At some point you knew you wouldn’t be able to bottle your feelings up anymore, and maybe, you thought, this would be a turning point of sorts. Maybe you would be able to get your shit together after the climax of the day. Well, you thought that, and then you began to cry some more.

And so there you sat, crying rather loudly in your apartment, wallowing in self pity. So much so that you almost didn’t hear the knock at your door.

At first you wondered what would happen if you just didn’t answer the door. Whoever was on the other side of it surely couldn’t have been more important than what you had going on at the moment. But, in a quick moment of judgement, you decided to make yourself get up and answer it. You walked to the door, wiping tears and mascara trails alike off of your face, trying to maintain any dignity you had left.

You didn’t bother looking through the peephole before opening the door. There stood your neighbor in front of you. It occurred to you that perhaps you didn’t have a right to be angry at him; after all, it was his friend who had set you off, not him. He had only been in the firing range. But either way, at that moment his was not the face you wanted to see. A new spark of rage began boiling in you, but he began talking before you got the chance to act on it.

“Hello, I-” he began before pausing, taking a look at your face and tilting his head. He undoubtedly noticed your tear stained face, you realized. “Uh, sorry, are you alright, love?” he asked gently.

Perhaps, if you and he had been friends, this question would have sparked a different response in you, but after the day you had had, you didn’t quite feel like unloading all of your angst on to a stranger. Instinctively, you wiped your face with the back of your hand, trying to further wipe away your stained face.

“Yes,” you said swiftly and angrily, “what are you doing here?”

“Uh, well, I just wanted to apologize again for my friend, you see. I just,” he paused and looked down, before looking back up to you again. “I just wanted to make sure you were ok.”

You wanted to be mad. You wanted to be furious at him. He, a complete stranger to you, had no right to check on you. He had no right to ask if you were alright, to invade your privacy. Briefly, however, it crossed your mind that maybe you were being rash and ridiculous. You stood there for a moment, deciding on some sort of response to his question. Then, it hit you like a pound of bricks, and, oh god, you were crying again. In front of your neighbor who you’ve talked to a collective 2 minutes total.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t put this all on you, I’m sorry,” you said, tossing the rest of your dignity out of the window. You rested your head in your hands and tried to stop the flow of tears.

“No, it’s alright, it’s ok love, I-” he stopped, not knowing exactly what to say. He hesitantly put his hand on your shoulder, and you looked up at him, dodging your eyes away every few seconds in a sad attempt of escaping eye contact.

“Listen, and it’s alright if you don’t want to or if it would make you uncomfortable, but uh, well. Would you like to come over to my apartment? I totally get it if that’s not alright, I know we don’t exactly know each other like that, but...you seem like you could use a friend right now.”

You looked around restlessly, your tears slowly coming to a stop as you wiped underneath your eyes once more and exhaling out. You thought about his offer, thought about how on another day, under different circumstances, you might have declined it. But he was right, you could use a friend.

“Okay.” you said. “Let me grab my keys.”

“Al..alright” he replied. He seemed as if he expected you to say no.

You turned back around, grabbed your keyring off the counter, and followed him out of the apartment and towards his own. He let you go in first, and you took a quick look around. It was nice; a little messy perhaps, but it was charming. The walls were littered with various posters and illustrations. One of the posters, you noticed, had 4 people on it whom you recognized. You looked closer and realized it was your neighbor and the 3 others you had met earlier today. Well, ‘met’ was an over exaggeration. Underneath the photos, written in extravagant text, wrote “Queen.” It was a band poster.

You felt him walk up beside you after closing the door.

“Are you guys a band?” you asked, beginning to finally settle down but still sniffling occasionally.

“Uh, yeah we are, actually.” he said, once again rubbing the back of his neck as he had done earlier. You looked at the poster again, seemingly lost in thought, before he pulled you out of it.

“Right, well. I don’t suppose I’ve officially introduced myself. I’m Brian” he said, extending his palm.

“I’m y/n” you replied. And for the first time that day, you smiled, even though it was only slight.

“Hello, y/n” he repeated, faintly echoing your smile. You realized that you didn’t exactly know how to progress the conversation. You had just cried in front of your neighbor, and now you were in his apartment. Needless to say that this was a new situation for you, and it seemed it was for Brian too. There was a short moment of silence over the room before you spoke up, breaking it awkwardly.

“I’m really sorry about everything,” you began before getting cut off.

“No, if anyone should apologize it needs to be me,” he started apologetically. “I’m so sorry about my friend earlier, Roger is a real pain in the ass and doesn’t know how to talk to people appropriately, as you can tell. I should have stopped him, I didn’t realize what he was going to try, I should have known though. I could have handled that better.”

This took you aback. You hadn’t anticipated such a sincere apology and now you were beginning to feel guilty.

“Really, I shouldn’t have lashed out at you that way earlier, I shut the door in your face, that was rude, i-” you paused to take a breath and ran your hand through your hair in the process. “It’s just been a really long day. So much has been happening lately and it’s become overwhelming. I usually don’t get so angry and impulsive, I just-”

“No, it’s alright, I understand completely. I’m the same way sometimes. It’s easy to let your problems, I don’t know, spiral sometimes. Snowball effect, until they’re so big they’re tough to handle. I get it.”

You weren’t used to someone being so kind to you. It almost made you start crying again, this time out of relief instead of frustration. You tried to hold back, but tears pricked the back of your eyes anyways. One escaped and you quickly wiped it away.

“I’m sorry if I’m overstepping.” he said, noticing it.

“No, no, you’re ok. I’m just not used to...this.” you quickly reassured, vaguely gesturing your hand in the air. You weren’t exactly sure what ‘this’ was.

“Would you like to sit down? Can I get you something to drink? A glass of water?”

“That would be lovely, thank you.” And with that he turned away into the kitchen, leaving you in the small living room to sit down on his couch.

Looking around some more, you noticed a few things. On the walls, among his own band poster and others, you noticed a few illustrations and images. You realized that they were of constellations, planets, stars; anything related to space, it seemed, he had pasted on his walls. You then noticed a telescope in the corner of the room next to the window. It was silly, you pondered for a second, because right outside of his window was the wall of another building next to it. Surely he wasn’t able to see many stars through it, you thought, but your attention was once again drawn away by the sight of another thing. Near the telescope was a shiny red guitar propped up on a stand. He was a guitarist, then.

Brian walked back into the room a moment later with a glass of water in his hand. He gave it to you and you took it gratefully before taking a small sip. Perhaps you hadn’t realized how dehydrated you had actually been. He took a seat on one of the chairs next to the sofa, as to not overstep his boundaries and sit too close.

There was another moment of painfully awkward silence. You were beginning to wonder if this was a mistake. You had no business being here, did you? You thought that maybe you’d say something like, ‘well, perhaps I should be going’ or maybe even ‘sorry for wasting your time, i shouldn’t be here’ but you realized that it would only be combated by Brian’s reassurance, so it wasn’t worth the effort. Instead, you settled on something else.

“So,” you began. “I’m sure you’re probably wondering why I’ve been crying all afternoon and have been on the brink of tears since you invited me to your apartment.” You tried to work in some type of humor to deflect or lighten the mood but Brian didn’t laugh, he only stared empathetically in your direction, listening to you intently, not interrupting. His kindness was so astounding it scared you just a little, but you decided that you wouldn’t stop, and so you began to unload everything you had been carrying that day, that week, that month. It all came unraveling like a tightly coiled ball of yarn. You told him about school, about how you were in debt and were struggling to stay afloat, how your dad had been in an accident and now on top of everything else you were worried sick about him.

“I think the...situation..in the hallway earlier was just the straw that broke the camel’s back. I’m sorry you had to be there for that. All the stress was just too much to handle, and as soon as I got to my apartment I just...shattered.” you finished, with one last sigh. As you recalled everything, you were afraid that it was becoming far too overwhelming far too fast. You felt it heavy on your chest, you felt your voice become hoarse, your eyes become glassy, your lungs taking shallow breaths. All of the sudden you weren’t in Brian’s apartment anymore, you were inside your own head and nothing around you made sense.

And like that, for the thousandth time that day, you burst into tears. You couldn’t say you were surprised. You placed your head in your hands and tried to even your breathing but it wasn’t working. And then, out of nowhere, you felt the couch dip beside you, and you felt 2 arms wrap around your shoulders.

“It’s alright love, you’re ok, I’ve got you, no need to worry.” He said in a soothing voice, and you believed him. You didn’t think about the way that you had only known him for a little while and he had already seen you cry twice. You didn’t think about how one might find it strange that you had only just met and he was hugging you and helping you calm down from another fit of tears. You only thought about how at that moment, for the first time in a long while, you felt safe and cared for and no longer alone.

This time you didn’t try to stop crying, you just let it happen, and Brian didn’t seem opposed. He let you cry in his arms, occasionally running his hand over your hair and reminding you to breathe in and out. After what you guessed was 6 or 7 minutes, your tears slowed, but Brian still held you. You were grateful. You finally took a long, shuttery breath and began to find some semblance of composure.

“Thank you,” you said simply.

“It’s no problem, darling. None at all.” he replied, slowly untangling his arms from around you, and you almost missed the contact once they were gone.

In the moments after you both stayed silent. Brian let you process, and you took a few more sips from your water glass. Your attention was drawn back to the guitar in the corner.

“You play guitar?” you asked to draw the conversation away from sadness and stress and everything else that had just passed over you in a wave of emotion.

“Yes, I do. I built that guitar with my father. I’ve been using it ever since,” he said.

You thought that maybe you shouldn’t bother him, you had already put him through enough, he didn’t owe you any favors. But, you had to ask, didn’t you?

“Would you mind...playing something for me?”

“Yeah...anything you’d like” he said and stood up from beside you to grab it. You thought that maybe when he sat down he’d sit back in the armchair next to the couch, but instead he resumed his position next to you, only sitting a little farther away to make room for the guitar. He looked down in concentration before beginning to pluck a tune that was simplistic but beautiful. Then he began to sing, and you were entranced.

“Yesterday my life was in ruin. Now today I know what I'm doing. Gotta feeling I should be doing all right” he sang peacefully

“Doing all right. Where will I be this time tomorrow, jump in joy or sinking in sorrow anyway I should be doing all right. Doing all right”

You wanted him to sing forever. You would be perfectly content if, for the rest of eternity, you sat on his couch while he lulled you with a gentle melody. With each lyric, you fell deeper into the trance. Your eyes traced the features of his face. He was facing forward on the couch, his profile in full view and illuminated by the lamp a few feet behind him, making everything about him feel angelic and ethereal. It didn’t occur to you how intensely you had been staring at him while he sang. It was only when he stopped that you noticed he seemed a little nervous under your watch.

“It’s just one of our songs, my band’s I mean, It’s nothing much really,” he said, looking away awkwardly.

“It was perfect,” you assured. “You’re incredibly talented”

“Thank you,” he smiled, seeming genuinely appreciative of the comment.

For a moment you thought that the awkward silence had returned, but actually, you realized, there wasn’t anything awkward about it. You both sat still for a moment, and it felt as if you two had been friends for years, like you were more than strangers who happened to live in the same hallway. You didn’t feel strange or uncomfortable. The sadness you had felt only an hour, hell, only a minute or so before this moment had seemed all consuming, but now you could hardly remember why a lingering tear still ghosted your cheek. Your anxiety and stress was a distant memory now as you looked a few feet in front of you into his eyes.

He was looking back at you.

You noticed faintly how his eyes flicked down to your lips for a swift moment. You noticed, faintly, how yours did the same. For a second, you almost thought that the air had changed, that the energy had shifted in some way, you didn’t pay it much mind.

“y/n?” Brian said gently, lowering his voice nearly to a whisper. You realized he had inched slightly closer to you. You hadn’t realized just how close you had been sitting to each other before then. You skipped a beat before responding.

“Yes?” you asked.

He seemed unsure of himself, unsure of what he really wanted to say, and if he really wanted to say it.

“Can I…” he trailed off, not bothering to finish the question before leaning in ever so slightly to seal the gap between both of you with a kiss. A gentle one, one that perhaps matched the way he had been towards you that evening; soft, understanding, careful. Sweet.

It couldn’t have lasted more than 6, 7 seconds. You didn’t want it to end, but you certainly wouldn’t dare miss the expression playing on his face once you had parted. He smiled like you hadn’t seen him smile yet. He seemed happy, which was a beam of light upon the darkness in which the interaction you’d had together had started. He was considerably taller than you were, but he rested his forehead against yours gently, and he laughed.

“Was that terribly inappropriate?” he asked, looking down between the two of you.

You considered for a second what you wanted to say. You laughed back.

“It would only be appropriate, I think, if we didn’t do it again” You saw him smile again as he moved his head away slightly to look at you.

“Well, I suppose we have no other choice.”

He moved his hand up to your face, cupping your jaw, and again you closed the gap.

#brian may x reader #brian may #queen #fanfic #gwilym lee #gwilym x reader #bohemian rhapsody #roger taylor #john deacon #freddie mercury #asks #prompt #angst #fluff #early queen #roger is a little shit lmao #i luv him though uwu #brian may x you

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juminsmysticmc · 3 years

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hey! i'm the pregnant christmas anon aha. my request was that it was around the end of November and mc was worrying about what to get jumin for christmas because he is IMPOSSIBLE to shop for and also gets the best gifts for her and although she can always find something small to get him that he can put on his desk she wanted to get him something good and he noticed something was off with her and said he was worried and should go to the doctor because she hadn't just had a checkup in a while and then she finds out she's pregnant and she was shocked because she was having trouble getting pregnant. "You're getting your christmas present one month early and eight months late, i'm pregnant" (lmao I didn't think it would be this long but pls feel free to change anything about it, I love your writing <3)

Late Christmas Present

You sighed once again as you turned another page. The luxury magazine you were currently reading couldn’t help you at all, and of course Yoosung, who sat across from you, noticed that you were getting nervous. The blonde man decided to forget about his studies and instead asked you if you were alright. You looked up and pointed at the magazine ,,I’m trying to figure out what I could give Jumin as a Christmas present, but there is nothing that I could give him,’’ you whined. Yoosung chuckled. ,,But Mc, it’s October! Christmas is still so far away! I mean, it’s still warm outside,’’ he laughed. You smiled and told him that you always got presents pretty early. ,,I never buy them at the last minute. I always buy them months before so that nothing can stress me out. For my mother, for example, I once bought her Christmas present in August, ahaha,’’ you laughed as you remembered the day you ordered her present even though you were still enjoying the warm sun at the beach.

,,Besides, if I can’t give him an heir for C&R, I could at least get him a good present, but I can’t even do that…’’ you suddenly whined. Your mood changed as you looked outside. ,,Jumin said that it’s okay that it’s harder for me to get pregnant and that I shouldn’t worry about the company, but I know that he wants children. I mean, the way he looks at children when we walk past them already says it all… he’s just too kind to me and I, as a wife, can’t give him anything…’’ Yoosung stayed silent as you whined, but suddenly he commented that you were maybe too stressed. ,,You should try to relax a bit more. Maybe you will have success!’’ he told you, never failing to smile at you. ,,Me? Stressed out? Jumin gives his best to make my life as comfortable as possible. How can I be stressed out? But you....YA YOU SHOULD BE STRESSED OUT!’’ you suddenly nagged at him, your voice raised as you watched his studies.

,,Ahhhh, but I don’t want to!’’ he whined, his eyes on his medical books again. The deal was that you would watch Yoosung to make sure that he would study since he once whined that he couldn’t handle it on his own. And since you were the only house wife and pretty good at understanding things, you agreed to help him. But studying with Yoosung was very hard. The young boy could get himself distracted in just a few seconds! But after you nagged at him, Yoosung luckily went on with his studies, and so the afternoon passed. After Yoosung left the penthouse, his words kept replaying in your head. Thinking that you could use a day to relax, you decided to put some hot water in your bathtub and relax with a little bit of wine and a good facial mask. The water kept flowing in the big bathtub as you looked through your candles to make the atmosphere better. You chose the ones that smelled like flowers and put them all around the room. You even put some rose petals into the water, as well as some nice smelling lotion.

Of course you first showered before you relaxed in the hot water. The wine was standing on your right as you slowly put your shoulders into the water, feeling the relaxation overcoming you. Classical music was coming from your laptop as you enjoyed the beautiful moment. You didn’t know how much time passed, you just knew that the feeling was just so beautiful. When the water began to become colder and your wine was empty, you slowly decided to get up, careful to not hurt yourself as you climbed out of it. Your hand reached for a towel as you exited the room afterwards, just to see your husband who just arrived home. Jumin looked at you as you stood half naked in front of him. ,,I like the way you come to greet me,’’ he laughed as you blushed because of the wine. You were never the type to get embarrassed. Your husband slowly approached you and began to kiss you. He first kissed your lips, then your neck, then up to your ears, and your cheeks. You chuckled at his warm lips and hugged him with your still wet arms. ,,My love, let’s love each other in our bedroom…’’ he whispered in your ear, going ahead to your shared bedroom to put away the towel from your body and kiss every single part of your body… ,,I will just take this frame so that he can put another picture of us on his desk,’’ you said to Yoosung as you scrolled through your phone.

A month had already passed and Yoosung couldn’t believe that you were still worried about the Christmas present for your husband. Suddenly you jumped up, feeling very nauseous. You walked to the bathroom and opened the door, just in time to empty your stomach into the toilet. Your hair fell in your face as your head was over the toilet. You hated this feeling. You felt sick with every second that passed. And not even Yoosung was a big help. The blonde man tried to grab your hair and patted your back as you finally finished vomiting. ,,It’s ten in the morning. You didn’t even eat so much. Why…?’’ he whined. You let your tired body fall on the ground as you supported your head on the wall. Suddenly your head was throbbing and you felt weird. You were scared. You felt kind of hungry and at the same time, sick. ,,I think I have a fever,’’ you whispered, looking over to Yoosung who was panicking over the phone by now. ,,She said that she has a fever,’’ he whined. ,,Jumin, I think she’s dying on me! She’s so pale! What? I didn’t kill her!’’ he by now sobbed. You rolled your eyes ,,Don’t say that I’ll die or he’ll worry! I’m just sick!’’ you tried to nag at him, but you were too sleepy. You had no energy anymore… You didn’t know how much time passed, but Yoosung was by your side the whole time. At some point he even brought a blanket to make you feel warmer while you were sitting on the cold floor since he wasn’t able to carry you to the bed. When you just wanted to get up, you heard the door opening with your husband rushing into the bathroom, followed by bodyguards and men in white coats. ,,My love!’’ he gasped and took you in his arms, your hand weakly around his neck while he carried you to a more comfortable place. ,,I can feel how hot you are…’’ he said meaning that your burning face was pressed against his neck.

,,Mr Han, please take care of everything else outside. We will take care of her,’’ one doctor said. ,,She’s sleeping, but her fever went down immediately. She will probably feel hungry, so make her soup or a bowl of rice. We took a sample of blood and checked her. As soon as we know something, we will let you know,’’ the doctor said and quickly went out to check what illness you had right away. No one knew at that point that you didn’t have any sort of illness… ,,I love you, my wife,’’ Jumin whispered. ,,I wish I could stay here with you, but I need to go to work. I will be back in a little while,’’ Jumin said. The next morning you vomited again. You were also a bit hotter, but everything else was okay. ,,The doctor will probably call here. I hope you have nothing serious, but don’t worry. I will take care of everything,’’ he said and smiled again before he went out of the room, ready to drive to the company. You on the other hand, weren’t that worried. You probably just caught the flu. And so, when the phone rang around twelve, you expected to be right with what you thought, however, the news they gave you made you even happier.

,,Thanks, Doctor. Please don’t tell him anything. I want to surprise him. I can’t believe it… how was that possible?’’ you sobbed happily on the phone. You quickly went on amazon and bought the frame. However, the picture you would put in there was completely different from the one you first thought… Thanks to Seven’s help, you even got the chance to go to the doctor without paparazzi seeing you.

A month passed by and Christmas finally came.

You with Jumin and the RFA sitting together, eating snacks and opening the presents. Seven had the task of making a video of Jumin opening your present, but you still wanted to wait with the big surprise. ,,My wife already got a few presents this morning,’’ Jumin said proudly. ,,Yeah, I saw on her Insta. What was it? A new bag and a necklace, Mc?’’ Zen asked you. You laughed and nodded ,,And the six candles from the USA. They just smell so good!’’ you laughed and held Jumin’s hand. ,,But here is one more for Mc…’’ Yoosung said. You were the one who got the most presents, not just because of Jumin, but the RFA itself had a deep bond with you. ,,Wait, it’s boring. Open your presents too! Don’t just give me mine!’’ you laughed and took the present you chose for Jaehee. ,,open it!’’ you chuckled, excited what your best friend would say. ,,A coffee maker? Woah!’’ she smiled and teared up. You knew her the best, she thought as she hugged you. Well, Jaehee was also the only one who knew about your pregnancy and helped you this month to hide it. It was her who always managed to make you eat healthy things at business meetings and whenever Jumin choosed to eat sushi, she tried her best to make him change plans. ,,I heard that lately, raw fish is very bad for women. I’m worried about Mc, but I will book it-’’ ,,No need, Assistant Kang, Look for a place that sells well cooked food,’’ he always changed his mind. Yoosung opened his presents too, getting a new keyboard, a mouse and a few things he wished for.

Even Zen got his beauty box from you, feeling very happy about it. ,,There is one last present,’’ Jaehee said and took the little box from the three. She waited until Seven started the camera since he was too busy observing the cute presents he got from you. One of them was a package of Dr. Pepper… but right now he knew that it was his time to work so he quickly took his phone and started the video while nodding to Jaehee. He didn’t know what was going on. Why did he need to take a video? ,,For Jumin, it says. Mr Han, I believe it’s yours,’’ Jaehee said, giving Jumin the cute little box wrapped in a paper with cats. ,,I think I need to sneeze…’’ Zen commented. Jumin’s eyes softened as his fingers touched the written note on it.

,,Your wife, Mc,’’ it said. He looked up to you and seemed emotionally touched. ,,There was no need for it…’’ he whispered and kissed your cheek. ,,Just open it,’’ you giggled, playing with your fingers, feeling kind of nervous. But you knew that he was going to like it. You were sure. Jumin slowly opened the box, careful not to break anything. ,,A frame…’’ he smiled ,,can I show everybody?’’ he asked you, probably expecting it to be kind of… smutty. You lightly slapped his shoulder as Zen rolled his eyes. As soon as Jumin turned around the frame to see the picture in it, he froze. A little note was over the frame. Everyone became tired as they noticed that the rich black haired man was suddenly crying. So did you. Tears rolled down your cheeks. ,,Finally, Jumin turned his head to you and began to stutter ,,I-is that.. r-re-real?’’ he asked you. ,,We did it, Jumin… you’re going to be a father,’’ you hiccuped, taking his hand and putting it on your still flat belly. ,,Hello, daddy. I’m already here, but I will meet you a bit later. Please accept me as a late Christmas present,’’ you said in a childish voice. The video ended with Jumin hugging you and sobbing in your neck as the RFA itself gave you guys an applause; even Zen.

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10.04.2021// 01:38 MEST

#Jumin #jumin han #jumin x reader #jumin x mc #mystic messenger jumin #mysticmessenger jumin #zen hyun ryu #Yoosung Kim #jaehee kang #saeyoung choi #luciel choi #Headcanon #Mm headcanons #mystic messenger headcanon #fanfiction #fanfic #mm fanfic

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