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mosswillow · 3 years

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Jumping In (Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader)

Warnings: 18+ adult content!!, Kidnapping, smut, Dark fic, vaginal fingering, noncon/dubcon, yandere.

Summary: You submit your application to the Avengers as a joke. You’re nowhere near qualified enough for the job. So why do they want you?

AN: A big thanks to @rayofdawnworld for commenting on “Your Room” that they wanted to know about the other Avengers. This one is (obviously) Steve and is happening chronologically before “Your Room.” You can read it by itself though! I also have a story forming for Bucky in my mind so I’ll probably do him next.

You’ve always been the type of person to jump into things without thinking. It’s gotten you into plenty of trouble throughout your life but you’ve always managed to get yourself out of it. It’s opened up opportunities for you and taken you all over the world. You put in the application for SHIELD almost as a joke, thinking there’s no way they would ever hire you, especially not to work with the Avengers.

The joke becomes serious when you get a call from Stark Tower offering you a job. You skim over the contract eagerly and sign it immediately, jumping on the opportunity to work your dream job.

After a whirlwind week you find yourself standing in the middle of a high tech training room surrounded by Avengers. Being around a group of people as powerful as the Avengers is intimidating to say the least. The contrast between you and them is stark and you feel your confidence slip trying to keep up with them. They all assure you that you’re doing great and they’re glad to have you with them. It feels like a little family and you get pulled in immediately. You find yourself gravitating to Steve, or maybe he gravitates towards you. He shows up everywhere you go, at the water fountain filling up his bottle, running at the treadmill next to you, stretching on the mat. He watches you spar with different Avengers, giving advice and words of encouragement.

“Keep that arm up Y/N.”

“I will, thank you captain.”

“Call me Steve.”

“Steve.” You smile.

You spar with Bucky and try to ignore Steve's looks. You don’t know if you feel flattered or uncomfortable with the attention he’s giving you. You decide that he’s probably just trying to be friendly since it’s your first day.

It doesn’t stop though and you constantly find yourself in situations with Steve. He’s in the elevator with you or walking by your room as you’re leaving. You even bump into him at the grocery store.

A week later you open your door to see Steve waiting for you just outside your room. Your heart does a flip at the sight of him standing in front of you. His hair is damp and you try to control your mind from imagining him in the shower. His tight white shirt shows off his muscles, which doesn't help your wandering mind one bit. You shift your eyes away from him and chastise yourself. God, He smells good and you wonder what soap he uses. He gives a cocky half smile and takes a step toward you.

“Good job yesterday.” He says, moving in front of your line of sight.

“Thanks.” you smile and force yourself to look him in the eyes.

He puts his hands in his pockets and rocks on his feet looking nervous.

“I thought I could treat you to coffee?”

Your heart starts beating rapidly. Is he asking you on a date? Steve Rogers asking YOU on a date? It can't be that. The flirting has to be in your head.

“I’d like that,” You mirror him, putting your hands in your pockets. You realize too late that you don’t have pockets though and end up awkwardly rubbing your hands against your sides. Steve lets out a chuckle and you cross your arms and laugh along with him.

You follow Steve to a nearby coffee shop and he orders you a drink. The two of you sit at a semi-private table in the back next to some barely cognizant university students who are furiously typing away on their laptops.

“How are you enjoying being part of the team?” Steve asks.

“I love it! Everyone is really nice.”

“Are you nervous for your first first mission?”

“A little bit,” you confess.

“I’ll be there with you, don’t worry.”

That was definitely flirting, you think. Captain America is flirting with you.

You smile and take a sip of your coffee. This is like a romance novel, a cute coffee date with a literal super hero. It comes to an end though when you notice a kid taking a picture of the two of you. Steve frowns and cocks his head towards the prepubescent photographer.

“I think we should head back before we get more fans.” Steve Says.

Steve does a silly pose for the kid as he passes by and pulls out a signed Captain America card. The kid stands stunned looking at you as you walk out of the shop. Steve puts his hand on your back and leans in.

“Sorry this was so short. We’ll have to go somewhere more private next time.”

“Don’t apologize! The coffee was amazing, thank you so much.”

It only takes twenty minutes for you to start getting phone calls. A picture of you and Steve is all over the internet. It looks very incriminating, Steve's arm on your back and him smiling close to your ear. You answer your phone and hold it away from your ear as your friend Amy yells at you from the other end.

“Captain America!” She screams over and over again.

“Are you guys dating now or...”

“No, he was just being nice.”

“The picture looks like he’s being a lot more than nice. Please hit that Y/N, if you don’t I’ll scream.”

“You’re already screaming.” you say with a laugh.

“Seriously though, I want to be invited to your wedding one day.”

“Amy! he’s hot for sure but he’s also kinda my boss and I’m not ready for anything serious right now.” The picture of you and Steve is still in your mind. You can barely take care of yourself and certainly aren’t ready for everything involved with dating Steve Rogers.

You hang up the phone and smile to yourself. You can’t believe how your life has changed so fast. One day you’re working security at a hotel and the next you’re working with the avengers and flirting with Captain America.

---

You shake your foot nervously on the way to your first mission. Your role is simple, in fact it's almost impossible to mess up. You’re nervous anyway though. Everyone tells you it’s normal for your first mission and you take deep breaths trying to calm down.

You exit the jet and make your way into town. Your only job is to distract your mark for five minutes. You check your watch and start your way toward your mark.

“Excuse me sir?”

“Yes?”

“Do you know a good breakfast place around here?”

It’s beyond easy. You keep the conversation up for five minutes and end it quickly. Steve gives you a pat on the back after, congratulating your successful first mission. It feels off. Anyone could do what you did. You’re nowhere near as skilled as the Avengers and don’t understand why you would be picked for the job.

“What’s wrong doll?”

“I just don’t feel like I’m really good enough to be part of this team I guess.”

“You’re more than good enough.”

“But you guys are so much stronger... and faster... and smarter.”

“We look for more than those things when picking recruits. Trust me, you’re exactly what I… We need.”

You feel a little better and push away your doubts.

---

The missions become harder after the first one but you’re still never put in direct danger. They say you need more training before taking on more dangerous roles and you agree. You’re not sure if you’ll ever improve enough though and it makes you guilty, like you’re taking up space in a team that someone else could have. As you start becoming more part of the group Steve starts coming onto you more. He takes you out several times and starts becoming more physically affectionate. You like Steve. Aside from being gorgeous he’s old school, bringing you flowers and opening doors. There’s Something about him that feels disingenuous and your gut prevents you from starting a serious relationship.

You meet a barista at the same coffee shop Steve took you to. He’s cute and you decide to give him your number impulsively. He texts you that evening and you stay up late texting back and forth. The next day everyone stares at you as you stretch before your training. You’re not sure why until you notice Steve standing outside of his office.

“Y/N, can I see you in here please.” His voice is an octave lower than usual and a chill runs down your spine.

“Of course.”

Steve closes the door and motions for you to sit down.

“I’m aware that you’ve exchanged numbers with someone who is unapproved.”

You nod slowly, confused how he knows at all and why it’s a big deal.

“This is a huge security risk.”

“I already ran a background check on him.”

Steve sits on the edge on his desk and caresses your cheek.

“Why do you want to talk to this boy when you have me?”

You push his hand away.

“I mean, I like you Steve but I’m just not ready for the commitment yet, you know that.”

His eyes narrow and he looks at the hand you pushed away.

“I understand.” He says.

You stand to leave and he calls after you.

“Oh, and remember you have a curfew. I don’t want to have to reprimand you.”

Steve feels different, unhinged. You’ve only been late a few times and only by a few minutes. You push away your worry hoping it will get better. He’s probably just not used to feeling rejected. He’ll get over it.

---

“Y/N, don’t you dare enter that building.”

“There are still people inside Steve!”

“It’s too dangerous. Help is on the way, don’t do it.”

You rip the com out of your ear and run into the building. There’s smoke everywhere and you cover your face with your arm. You make fast work of reaching the blocked room, breaking the door in and letting the room of people out. You escort them out of the building and to safety.

“Thank you so much.” A woman says, hugging you.

“No problem.” You smile.

The building starts collapsing in front of your eyes and you watch it burn. You walk back to the jet, coughing and bruised and get checked out as soon as you land.

Steve waits for you outside of medical.

“What were you thinking Agent!”

“Not now Steve.”

“It’s Captain and yes now.”

You sigh.

“I was thinking, Captain, that I needed to get those people out and I was right.”

“And what would have happened if the building had come down on you? Help was coming and you had an order. You’re lucky your lungs are ok with the smoke you inhaled.”

You push Steve out of your way and walk towards your room.

“It was a risk I was willing to take,” you call back.

You reach your room and take a long shower, thinking about everything. As much as you want to fit in with them you just don’t. Something tells you that you need to quit. You need to get out of here and never look back. you decide that you’ll hand in a two week notice tomorrow.

The next morning you wake and dress quickly still feeling the same as the night before. You head to your door and turn the knob but find it locked.

“What the fuck?” you pound on the door but nobody answers. You pick up your phone to call for help. It won’t connect to the internet or call anyone. Your computer is the same way. As the day passes you start feeling more and more uneasy. They have to know by now that something is wrong with you. your voice is raw from yelling for help and your hands bloody and bruised from pounding on the door.

Finally, hours later you hear the click of your door unlocking. You open it to see Steve standing with his arms crossed on the other side.

“I was locked in my room.” you say in a quiet voice.

“I know, I locked you in.”

“What’s wrong with you? That’s insane Steve!”

Adrenaline rushes through your body and you start pacing. Everything is telling you to get out. This is not what you signed up for.

“I quit.” you say defiantly.

Steve rushes toward you, pinning you to the wall. None of your self defence training helps you. He’s so much bigger and stronger, trying to fight is a joke. You know your best bet is to stun him somehow and run but you can barely move.

“You can’t quit doll.” He brushes a hand down your body, giving your butt a squeeze. Your eyes widen in shock.

“I’ll report you.”

“To who?”

You start thinking, your eyes darting back and forth. He slides his hand into the front of your pants and rubs the bulge in his pants against you. your breath hitches and you relax your body a bit. You scream at yourself to do something. The hand in your pants rubs against your clit expertly and it takes everything you have not to let out a moan.

“Ah, I see you’re getting it.”

His finger slides to your entrance and he prods you before submerging his finger. You gasp at the intrusion and realize that he’s barely holding onto you anymore. Your hands grasp his shoulders and you lean against him.

“This would have been much easier if you had followed my plan. You had to go putting yourself in danger.” He chides.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Please you’re scaring me Steve.” you say,

“It was going so well but you’re unpredictable, flirting with that barista.”

He pushes his finger in deeper and you whimper.

“If I don’t take action now I might lose you and I can’t lose you.”

“Get away from me,” you beg.

He grasps your hip painful tight.

“You're my girl now, ok? My girl doesn’t disobey me, especially not on missions.”

He pumps his finger, coating it with slick.

You realize that he won’t listen to reason but you try anyway.

“I’m so sorry you’re right I’m your… your girl, just let me go please.”

He pulls his finger out and gives you a kiss.

“See, there’s a good girl.”

He pulls a ring out of his pocket and places it on your finger. His watch vibrates and he looks at it before kissing you on the cheek.

“We can celebrate tomorrow.” He winks.

He leaves you in the hallway and you back into your room, shaking and crying. You don’t care if he locks you in again. You need to be in a place where you feel somewhat safe and can process everything that just happened. You take the ring off and throw it across the room.

The night is spent curled in your bed crying and the next morning you walk self consciously to the kitchen. Bucky sits at the counter eating cereal and he knits his brow when he sees you.

“Hey, what’s wrong.”

You shake your head.

“You can tell me.” He looks at you with his big kind eyes and you decide to confide in him.

“Steve… assaulted me. He’s out of his mind, saying all sorts of crazy stuff. I don’t know what to do.”

Bucky holds you close.

“You’re his girl Y/N, don’t provoke him and you’ll have a good life.”

You tear yourself away and look at him with disbelief.

“It’s not a secret Y/N and we’re on Steve's side.”

You back away and head straight for the exit hitting Tony on the way

“Woah, what’s the rush?”

“I quit.” you say, tears starting to fall.

“You can’t quit princess, you’re Steve’s.”

Your breaths become shallow and your head starts feeling light.

“How did you think you got the job in the first place Y/N?”

You run to the elevator slamming the button over and over but it won’t let you down.

“What’s wrong with Y/N?” Thor walks over.

“She’s having a hard time adjusting to being Steve’s,” Tony answers.

“Let me out.” you yell.

Steve comes out of nowhere catching you in his arms and you throw your head back and duck. He stumbles back. Other Avengers start to gather and you pull your fists up in defense.

“I want to leave.”

“Come with me back to your room doll, it doesn’t have to be this hard.”

You stand your ground and Steve goes into a fighting stance. You don’t even have a chance, he has you trapped in his arms within minutes.

“I don’t understand.”

“We got your application in the mail. As soon as I saw your picture I knew you were the one I’ve been looking for.” he coos.

“Why go through the whole facade?”

“Use your brain Y/N. Everyone knows we’re together. There’s pictures of us everywhere online. You’ve talked to friends and family about our relationship. It won’t look weird when you drop off for a while because of your job and when you come back engaged nobody will blink an eye.”

“No.”

You look at the Avengers, you’re family. None of them do anything to help you. Every single one turns their back and walks away nonchalantly like it’s just another normal day.

Steve drags you to your room and closes the door. He walks over to where you threw your ring grabbing it off the floor, and places it back on your finger.

“This doesn’t come off again,” He says.

You look at the ring and back at Steve over and over trying to make sense of all of it. Steve walks purposefully to the drawer you keep your candles and lights several, placing them around the room.

He backs you into the bed and undresses you slowly and meticulously. He sits back and looks at your naked body, taking his time touching and examining every piece. He grabs your legs and parts them, looking at your pussy and two fingers in.

“So wet for me already.”

You shake your head and he lands a slap on your thigh.

“No.” He commands.

“Be good so I don’t have to punish you. You’ve seen me work, you know what I’m capable of.”

You bite your tongue and force yourself to lie still as he slams his cock into you. You cry out in pain and he rubs your arm and whispers sweet things. He kisses you as he pushes his cock deep into you. He grabs your chin and squeezes until you open up and let his tongue in. you reach out and grab his arms and he pulls at your leg until you hug them around him.

“You can come Y/N.” he whispers

You shake your head.

He reaches between you and pushes against your clit. You fight against it for as long as you can but it becomes too much. An orgasm crashes over you and you flutter around his cock. He thrusts hard enough that you get pushed into the headboard and seconds later he’s coming in you. He smiles down at you, lovingly stroking you face.

“I love you Y/N”

You stay silent and he pulls you into a constricting hug.

“Don’t worry doll, you’ll love me soon.”

You’ve always been the type of person to jump into things without thinking. It’s gotten you into plenty of trouble throughout your life. You’ve always been able to get yourself out of it,

but this time.

This time you jumped too far.

#dark!steve x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark!fic #dark!steve rogers x you #dark!avengers

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the-mad-starker · 3 years

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Starker Smut: Perks and Quirks of Being Tony Stark's Bestie

Based off this ask sent by @starkeristheendgame :

Are you even friends if you don't try to out-cum each other? (Could also be out-fuck)

Ty for sending that ask! It really got me inspired and motivated to write (which hasn't happened in so long so 😭💗) I feel like this fic is a bit odd but 🤷🤷 also, if the formatting's weird, sorry 😭 Tumblr fighting me on this

Notes: College AU, same age Starker, porn watching (some straight porn then gay porn), handjob, friends with benefits? Friends to lovers? (I also like to think Oblivious Idiots in love 😅)

WC: 3674 (AO3) 💗💗💗 There are certainly perks to being Tony Stark's best friend. Peter knows it well but he's never taken advantage. It's always been Tony that pushes him into accepting things or just drags him along for the ride. It'd been that way since they met in high school and while Peter got into MIT on his own merit, he never would've been able to afford the cozy two bedroom apartment five minutes away from campus on his own.

"As if I'd let my best friend stay in the dorms," Tony had scoffed with a roll of his eyes, "You'd think you'd know better by now, Petey baby. You're stuck with me so just shut up and say yes." There are certainly perks but then there's… other stuff. Tony's been called the genius of their generation but he also has a few weird quirks that Peter's not sure anyone else would understand. Or at least there'd be a few raised eyebrows if they knew.

When Peter walks into their apartment, he expects Tony to be furiously working on something in the kitchen or living room. If he's in the kitchen, whatever he's working on would definitely not be food.When Peter walks into their apartment, he expects Tony to be furiously working on something in the kitchen or living room. If he's in the kitchen, whatever he's working on would definitely not be food. He's not in either of the rooms so Peter pads over to Tony's bedroom. The door's unlocked and Peter unsuspectingly walks in. As expected, he finds Tony there and the other boy is sitting on his bed. Given the heat, it's not surprising that he's wearing a white tank top but little else. His pants are in a crumpled mess on the floor which leaves him in just his boxers. This is where most people would jump back or run away because Tony isn't just lazing around in bed. Nope, Tony has his headphones in and he's lazily jerking off, eyes fixed on the laptop screen in front of him. Peter's attention is caught by the slow, captivating strokes his friend makes as he plays with himself. It's only natural that that's where Peter's eyes go. The way Tony touches himself is almost hypnotic. His cock is flushed pink and Peter can see that swollen tip poke out whenever the other boy strokes downwards, squeezing along the length until he reaches the base. Peter enjoys the view because Tony makes an attractive sight. Neither of them are really into sports but Tony's body is still solid with hard earned muscles. While Peter has his hyped up metabolism to thank for his lean body, Tony's probably earned his from all the hands-on work he does fixing cars and engineering. Watching Tony like this… It has to be a pavlovian response because this isn't anything new. It's actually become a habit, someone walking in on the other and casually inviting the intruder for a jerk off porn session. Once he sees what Tony's doing, his own body quickly heats up in anticipation. Peter huffs and leans against the doorway, angling his body to hide the evidence away. His arms cross over his chest and he feels his heart beating in excitement. "Do you have any decency?" Peter quips, voice pitched loud enough to get Tony's attention. "Should I come back later?" The other boy pauses and pulls off one of his headphones. Instead of being embarrassed like a normal human being, he grins at Peter. He looks happy to see him which probably isn't the normal response someone should have when their jerkoff session gets interrupted. "Hey, Peter," Tony says and gives his cock a few slow tugs while he talks. "How was class?" He lets go of his cock and gives a nice, slow stretch as though he'd been in that position for a while. It bobs in the air, slick with lube and still achingly hard. Peter sympathizes because his own cock has taken an interest and it's now straining against his pants. Peter then notices the wad of tissues in the small trash can by the bed and his nose wrinkles. "It was alright," he answers. "How many times did you do it already?" Tony follows his gaze and it's only then that he ruefully smiles at Peter. "Do it? You mean, come?" He laughs a little, "You're so weird, Peter. Can't even say come?" Peter blushes but doesn't back down. "You're the one jerking off in front of me," he retaliates. "If it's more than five, I'm leaving." "No, no, don't go," Tony protests. "It was, hmm, twice?" He

shrugs, "You can still catch up." Twice. Tony has already jerked off two times. There's no rule that they have to wait for each other to start but Peter considers saying there should be. "I have homework," Peter hedges, a clumsy excuse because when do they not have homework? Tony rolls his eyes and pats the space next to him. "All the better to get it all out of your system. C'mon, sit down already," he says in an attempt to convince Peter. "Besides, I want your opinion on this vid." Peter pretends to consider it for a second but he's never needed much convincing. It's as he thought earlier, there are certainly perks to being Tony's best friend but then there's this… thing they have going on. Peter doesn't know what to classify it because it's not like they have sex with each other and they're definitely not dating. Tony's just like this, so carefree, curious, and wild. The older boy shows no hesitation when it comes to talking about porn or sex with Peter. It might just be Peter, though, because he's never caught Tony doing it with anyone else. Maybe mildly flirting but then, that's just Tony's personality. He likes to joke around, likes to flirt, and apparently likes to watch porn with Peter. Maybe Peter's the only one that isn't weird about this, about watching porn with a friend. He kind of likes that idea, that he's the only friend Tony does this with. "Okay, fine, fine," Peter says as he unbuttons his pants. Tony smirks at him once he sees how hard he is but Peter just rolls his eyes. What does Tony expect, really? It's pointless to try to hide it now. He does, however, nearly fold his pants and sets them aside because May taught him better. He moves closer and Tony scoots over to give him space. There's ample room on the bed, Tony has a king for some reason, but since they're watching the porno on Tony's laptop, Peter remains close enough that their knees touch. "Ready?" Tony asks but he immediately tugs the plugged headphones out. The telltale sounds of an adult film immediately spills into the room. High pitched moans and the dirty wet sounds of a mouth sucking on a cock. Tony's been on an oral fixation lately. The last two videos they've watched were blowjobs. They never really watch the same video twice because that defeats the purpose of Peter being there to critique it. He settles down in his spot, his left knee and elbow brushing Tony's while his right forearm rests on his thigh. His hand barely brushes against the bulge his erection makes in his boxers. "I'll give you a head start," Tony says to which Peter shushes him. The video that Tony's picked out today has a woman on her knees. She's working on her partner's cock, stroking whatever part of it that isn't in her mouth. Drool drips down her chin and her red lipstick is smeared on her face as she sucks her partner off. It's not exactly Peter's taste but he can tell the woman is Tony's type. Curly honey brown hair cut short to her shoulders. She reminds him of a girl next door type of person, someone he could bump into on the street and never realize she does these kinds of videos. He almost startles when he feels Tony nudge the bottle of lube against his arm. "Thanks," Peter says absentmindedly as he takes it. He's watching the video and his body is slowly starting to heat up. He only knows Tony's returned to jerking off because he feels the other boy's elbow bump against him. A glance to his side confirms it but when he looks up, a shock of heat sears through his body when their eyes meet. Tony doesn't look away so Peter has to. Heat blooms across his cheeks and crawls down his neck. He's always had a hard time looking Tony in the eye while they're doing this. The other boy's gaze is just always so intense like the subject to be investigated isn't the video but Peter. It's a silly thought though. "She's not as loud as the last one," Peter says to offset the awkwardness. His voice is calm and collected but inside, he's shivering from the memory of Tony's eyes on him. Peter squeezes his cock through his boxers. He's already so

hard that just touching himself like this has him trembling in pleasure. Without looking at his friend, he takes himself out. "Yeah," Tony agrees. He already sounds breathless and Peter dares to take a peek at him again. "It was a little distracting last time, all that moaning sounded really fake so I thought this might be better." Fortunately or unfortunately, Tony isn't looking at him this time. He's back to watching the screen, his hand curled around his erection and giving it the same slow teasing strokes as before. Maybe he's pacing himself since Peter still has to catch up. Peter hums in agreement and forces his eyes back to the video. It doesn't really keep his attention though and his mind wanders, eyes glazing over as he focuses more on the sounds filling the room. His mind seems more in tune with what's happening around him though and he zeros in on the sound of Tony's breathing as it turns into soft panting. His own breathing escalates to match his friend's and Peter jerks himself off to the sound of Tony's breathless panting, to the wet sound of flesh sliding against flesh next to him. He lets out a moan himself. It feels good to touch himself after a long day of classes and with Tony next to him, it feels even better. A sharp inhale next to him has Peter's back straightening as he looks at Tony who's biting down on his lip while watching the screen. Tony's eyes flicker to him and his white teeth press down on his bottom lip. "You better not come," Peter grits out even as he's holding back from releasing. "You– ah– You said you'd let me catch up." "Yeah, I won't," Tony grunts, "don't take too long though, I've been holding back for a while now." "Literally no one told you to," Peter says. His voice has lowered into a strained, breathy murmur. "I'm almost there so just– just wait, okay? You're distracting me." Tony rolls his eyes but ends up chuckling breathlessly. He stops stroking but starts massaging his balls. He lets out a moan as soon as he starts and that has Peter squeezing his eyes shut, his hips stuttering as he fucks his cock into his fist. His heart is going crazy and he stops fighting it. He spills right there, his load coming out hard and fast. It ends up getting over his stomach and he milks it out, squeezing the tip of the last few drops. When Peter finally finished, his nose wrinkles at the mess. "Should've taken your shirt off," Tony says, voice strained. Peter shoots him a friendly glare which softens when he finds that his friend is still holding back. Tony's face is flushed, his eyes bright with desperation. And yet, he hasn't come even when it's obvious he's ready to pop off. On the screen, the video is still playing but Tony grimaces. "Let's switch it up," he says while absentmindedly fondling his balls. "Sure." Tony leans forward a bit and uses the touchpad on his laptop to search around. Peter's trying his hardest not to stare at the other boy's erection. It doesn't soften in the least and Peter just wants to reach out and touch it. He wants to feel the warmth of Tony's skin, wants to hear what kind of noises Tony will make if he dares to do it. To touch Tony… "Okay, this'll be a little different," Tony says when he leans back into position. "But I don't think you'll mind. Tell me if you do and I'll find something else." A new video starts and Peter glances at it without much interest. Then he almost does a double take when he sees it's two men on the screen. Tony's never put in a gay porno before, he couldn't have chosen one now… Could he? "A threesome?" Peter says curiously. His heart is pounding and then it goes into overdrive when the two men start making out. "I can look for one next time if you want?" Tony offers. When Peter looks at him, the other boy has a lazy smirk. He's not bothered at all by the two men kissing on screen and Peter swallows down the spit in his mouth. "No, this is… this is good. It's fine," Peter says. He tears his eyes away and returns to the video. "You're hard again," Tony comments nonchalantly. Peter looks down and yeah…

Yeah, he's hard. He's watching a gay porno with his friend. Tony either picked up that this is more to Peter's preference or… Or this is Tony's preference, too. Either option makes Peter want to run away or hide under a blanket. He does neither because he's not going to make this weird. "You have good taste," Peter says, "They're both really hot." Tony chuckles beside him. "Damn right, I do." They both fall silent and they're both more engrossed in this film. Peter actually takes the time to invest in what's going on. Both men are attractive and hot as hell. They don't waste any time stripping each other off and the expanse of newly exposed skin has Peter squeezing his cock. Despite this, he can't help glancing at Tony. He can't help wondering. Their eyes keep meeting and this time, Peter doesn't look away. Neither does Tony. He greedily takes everything in, admiring the way Tony's hair, previously slicked back, is falling into his eyes. Tony's mouth is also slightly parted and a quick pink tongue flicks out to wet dry lips. Peter wants to bite at them. Something changes between them at this moment. They're watching both the film and each other. For Peter, his attention is clearly on Tony and it's Tony that's making his cock hard. But even if it feels like something's changed, Peter still toes the line of their friendship. "Are you getting close again?" Tony pants. He's struggling not to come. Peter can tell by how he's gently tugging on his balls in an attempt to hold off. Peter bites down on his lip cause he's not quite there yet but he wants to so badly. He wants to come with Tony watching him but he just can't seem to do it. "I don't think I can," Peter groans. "Ugh, Tony, I'm getting tired…" Something in his expression must give his frustration away because Tony shuffles closer which makes Peter's heart go berserk. Not only does Tony come closer but he moves behind Peter. His legs stretch out, bracketing Peter's body. Suddenly, Tony's so much closer. Too close for comfort because Peter had just said he couldn't come but like this, it'd be so easy. It fuels all sorts of dirty imaginations that he shouldn't be having about his friend but... "I got an idea," Tony says, pressed so close against Peter's back. Surely, he can feel Peter's heart thumping like crazy? "What do you– Oh…!" Peter's entire body would've basically jumped in the air if it isn't for Tony's arms around him. "It's not fun if I win all the time, so we should at least end this in a tie, right, Pete?" Tony says. "Lemme help, okay?" Peter's wide-eyed and his hips buck uncontrollably when Tony's hand settles over his own. There's no mistaking what Tony wants to do. He shudders when Tony grips his cock. Those sturdy fingers that Peter often admires press down on him causing him to tighten his grip on his cock. Tony's touching him… Tony's touching his cock. Tony wants to help jerk him off. Peter might just come right then and there. "Tony– You're… touching me…" The words come out as an embarrassing squeak but Peter can scarcely believe it. "Mhmm…" Tony murmurs, amusement in that one single hum. Peter had just started the obvious so of course, he'd be amused. In any other circumstances, maybe Peter would be too. Instead, he feels like he's dreaming. He's looking down at his body, specifically between his legs where Tony's tanned hand is curled around his. "C'mon, Pete, either move your hand or I'll move it for you," Tony says right into his ear. That gets Peter moving and he starts stroking again, clumsy with the added weight of another hand. It shouldn't feel good because their hands are bumping and Tony being pressed against him is making him so… so flustered. But it does feel good. it feels so good that Peter's fighting tooth and nail not to come right away. He doesn't want this to end yet. Eventually, Tony does take over. When he pulls Peter's hand off by the wrist, Peter just shudders and lets him. His hand falls to the side and he grabs the bed sheets just to have some sort of anchor. He squeaks when Tony adds more

lube. "Sorry. Here, I'll make you feel good…" Tony promises him and he keeps true to his word. He practices those smooth steady strokes on Peter's cock and Peter recognizes the motion. It turns him on so much, he's clenching his teeth to hold back all those embarrassing moans that want to escape. "Tony…" Peter gasps. "I-It feels..." "Too slow? Too soft?" Tony chuckles. "I got you, Pete. Relax and lemme take care of it." Peter squeezes his eyes shut as Tony increases his pace. His grip tightens a little but it's enough to have Peter gasping out his name again. It's exactly what Peter needs and he whimpers, hips twitching toward the delicious friction Tony's hand provides. His ears burn from the wet sounds Tony's hand makes while he's jerking him off, all those embarrassing squelches and not to mention the feeling… Tony's grilling him just right, giving him a warm, wet hole to thrust his cock into… How can something so simple as another person touching him feel so much better than his own hand? His hips continue to move, thrusting into his friend's tight grip. He's so aware of every point of contact between their bodies. "Isn't this weird?" Peter starts to babble, "The porn was one thing but Tony– You're touching my– Isn't this too much?" "Is it? I'm just trying to get you caught up," Tony says as though it's entirely reasonable. Then he chuckles and Peter shivers at the warmth of his breath fanning across his nape, "Are you even friends if you don't try to out-come each other?" It's so ridiculous that it makes Peter huff out a laugh even while his cock is now a leaking mess in Tony's fist. "You're ridiculous–" he gasps. "And you're about to cum," Tony says. Peter can hear the triumph in his voice. It's the last thought he has before Tony's hand squeezes him just right. He's coming before he even realizes it and the outpouring of pleasure has him arching his back, gasping and shuddering in ecstasy. Tony's arms keep him grounded, pressed as he is against the front of his friend's body. "Oh, fuck, yeah," Tony breathes. His head hangs between his shoulders and it's in the perfect position to see how his load comes spilling out of his cockhead, all messy and being milked out by his friend in gentle squeezes. He feels something hot and hard poke against his back. Oh, yeah… Tony still hasn't come. Despite having his orgasm milked out of him, Peter's body is still hot. Actually, it's even worse now because Tony's arms are still around him. Tony's face is still buried against his neck, his breath adding fuel to the heat inside him with every puff of warm air against his sensitive skin. The video has long since ended and Tony doesn't seem to care about putting another one on. It's just them now with no excuse for what they're doing. Peter leans back and he can feel Tony's cock rub against him, so hot and demanding. Tony grumbles when Peter pulls away but he doesn't get the chance to complain. Peter shoves him so he's lying flat on his back, those familiar brown eyes wide with surprise and arousal. "Since we're trying new things," Peter says, breathless and barely containing the urge to straddle Tony's hips. "Mind if I try something?" Tony's hands curl into loose fists before they relax and he gives Peter a look that he's never seen before. Bedroom eyes… Now Peter understands what those words mean. By the curve of his smart mouth and the dark, hungry look in his eyes, he's inviting Peter to do whatever he wants with him. "I'm always up for new things," he says then smirks, "Quite literally this time." The amused look on Tony's face quickly fades when Peter settles between his legs. He leans down, takes a hold of the other boy's cock by the base to steady it. It twitches in his hand and Tony's eyes are fixated on Peter's lips hovering over his tip. Peter loves the way Tony's watching him. "I don't mind if you win this time, Tones," he says, "so don't hold back, okay?" With that said, he closes the distance and takes Tony's cock into his mouth.

#starker #madstarker writes #nff #college au #friends to lovers #mads is a mess

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downywrites · 3 years

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Hello, bird is getting to everyone’s requests. Please hang on, your items will be delivered asap.

Enjoy this little drabble, beans! Love you all! /p

Ranboo(Lethe) gets a back massage from Nikki(Nemesis).

Nikki was very used to helping people when they needed it, regardless of whether or not they asked for her help or not. The smiles that lit up their face made the toil worth it, no matter how small or fleeting that smile was. She loved the feeling of love. Soft, warm, fluffy like the soft curves of her famous loaves of sweet bread. .But love was fleeting. Change was imminent. Soon, her soft, warm bread went from something akin to a gift to the people to something the people expected of her. The love she so desperately seeked drained from the place. She felt lonely in the crowd, a source of love that seemed to be infinite to the people who so desperately craved it. Soon, her love ran dry. She wasted away, feeling less and less whole every day. She lashed out, hurt people she didn’t want to hurt, made people cry when all she wanted was to make people’s tears run dry. All she ever wanted was love, full, mutual, trusting love. But there was none where she searched. All of her ventures left her beaten and broken, forcing her to return to the land where bombs and bows were the norm, not the exception. Where swords were drawn over the slightest encroaching of anyone’s boundaries. Where blood moistened the ground more than pure, fresh water. She was tired of it.

So she left.

She cast aside her name during the bloodshed she was forced to cause, forced to enable, in order to end the never ending cycle that the people followed. She cast aside the memories, the thoughts of love and warmth and cookies, for the sake of the iron tang of blood and victory, the feeling of accomplishment and rush she felt when she rode into battle. She cast aside her old baker’s apron for one that she washed nightly to rid it of the tears and blood of her enemies.

She rose again from the ashes of the baker’s oven, wings of fire and fury glowing like hot coals rebirthed sprouting from her back. In her ex-friend’s eyes, she was a monster. She was terrifying, something too wild to tame and too strong and smart to fool. But, to her allies, she was a powerful creature, a person so strong, she could fell an entire army with a single sword and a burning, all consuming rage.

That didn’t mean she didn’t remember her past, though.

She sat on the windowsill of the stronghold they had been calling their home, wind whistling by her ear as she stared at the twinkling, shimmering stars. Her teammates had built in above and below ground, making sure that the area was fully protected from any attacks made by the enemy groups of the government. Her gossamer cape flowed behind her, sunset-orange and beautiful against the dark clothes she wore to blend in with the environment, at least a little. She adjusted her glasses to look closer at a certain cluster, before penning down a general shape in a small notebook beside her. The wind played with her hair and the pages of the notebook, making her clutch the pages tightly as particularly strong breezes racked the area. Her bleached hair fluttered slightly into her face, making her shift her face to the side a little. She huffed in slight annoyance at the disruption in her work, but continued to map out a general shape of the stars. Nibbling at the end of the quill, she dipped its tip into a well of blood red ink, careful not to get any on the stones. No need to make Techno lose any sleep. Nikki heard the sound of claws scraping against the hewn stone bricks, tensing up instinctually. The footsteps stopped almost immediately, giving her good reason to think of a few specific people up at such an ungodly time.

“Hmm, is that Ranboo or Techno up at this time? I don’t think any other hybrids would be up so late- er, so early.” She patted the side of the area not covered by her parchment and work. “Take a seat, dear. Star-gazing can help take your mind off of things.” A enderspeak-warbled voice echoed behind her. “I would, but...my muscles hurt a lot, and...I guess it kept me up?” Ah, Ranboo. He didn’t seem like much to most people, but the Syndicate saw his worth the second the man teleported in and out of one of the most respected facilities and grabbed Dream’s mask from the top of the pedestal, all without tripping off a single trap. (Granted, he forgot why he needed it in the first place, and tried to keep it for himself due to his confusion with the object once he came back. They still counted it as a win.) Even then, Ranboo was not a threat, no matter how hard he tried.

Nikki sighed, soft voice hinting a slight smile. “Oh? Muscles are hurting? Now that’s a first.” She turned around, looking into the shadows to look for the slightest bit of off-white. A shift in the left side of her eyes made her focus on the spot, trying to see the enderman through the inky blackness without making him startle. Ranboo immediately backtracked. “D-don’t worry about me, though. It’s not your problem- I’m so sorry for intruding on your peace, I’ll just see myself out.” He backed away, slowly losing his shape in the shadows. “Wait, Lethe.”

Ranboo went stock still in the depths of the darkness. “I can give you a massage. I used to do that for people back in L’manberg! Besides, I needed to stop focusing on those silly clumps for a tiny bit, anyways.” She swung her legs onto the floor, scuffing her shoes on the cold, icy ground. She winced at the change in temperature, already wishing for the semi-warm winds of the nearby desert again, but she ignored the nagging wish in favor of flicking the nearest lever to her person. The lights flickered on, casting the whole hallway in a burst of warm, soft lighting, Even though the lights were relatively dim, both Nikki and Ranboo winced, shielding their eyes from the piercing white flash.

“Ow.”

Once the ivory light dimmed to a soft, gentle color, Nikki gently grabbed the enderman’s arm, careful not to grab at his fragile claws. The bi-colored hybrid yelped, eyes still trying to focus on the shape in front of him. “H-hey!”

Nikki didn’t even glance back at the stumbling man. “I found Phil’s grooming area a while ago. I think we can use that to massage your muscles in some nice positions, okay? I won’t slam you into a wall, trust me.”

From the way Ranboo’s slitted pupils flicked to the side, he wasn’t too sure, but he followed along anyways. Nikki stifled a giggle at the semi-nervous look on the obviously taller person. What does he have to be afraid of? It’s just her. She steered the two of them into a large, softly-styled room.

Dimming the lights as to make it more comfortable for the enderman hybrid, she tugged her ally onto the cushioned platform in the middle. She glanced around, scanning for items she could use to relax his muscles. Dozens of tools lay scattered all over the soft, padded floor. She walked slowly over to one specific pile, feet bouncing slightly off of the bouncy fabric on the floor as she did so. `Kneeling down carefully, as to not aggravate her own sore muscles, she picked up a few tools she deemed were useful to her endeavor.

From across the room, Ranboo’s tail swished nervously from side to side, almost afraid of the shadows of her figure dancing in the light of the redstone-powered lamps. “A-are you sure we’re allowed to be in here?” Small warbles of fear laced his voice. Nikki sighed patiently. “Yes, it’s fine.” She returned to his side, guiding him onto his back. The enderman hybrid vwooped quietly, eyes flitting back and forth on the objects he could still see. “You’re sure we can do this. Like, really, really sure?” She didn’t even reply to that one, rolling her eyes from behind him.

That was one thing she never could understand about the boy. He could literally kill anyone he wanted with his claws, tear muscle and flesh apart like it was nothing. He could claw and bite and scratch until all around him were bloody and broken from his onslaught. He could simply screech, and nobody would be able to stand long enough to get in his way.

Yet he didn’t.

Ironically, and almost eerily like her, he loved to make people happy. He stumbled over himself to keep others safe and satisfied, even injuring himself badly to create a new axe for techno when his went missing. He loved his people, even when they failed to love him back. He kept on giving and giving, just like her. Yet he persevered in it. She almost wanted to ask him how he did it. She could, if she wanted to. He was right there, in front of her. If she could only open her mouth to ask.. No. She turned her head away slightly. “Nikki?” She turned back to see him glancing back at her, heterochromatic eyes slitting with worry. “Is something wrong? I can get up, if you want me to. I’m so sorry for bother-”

“No!..I mean, no, don’t leave. It’s okay, I just had...a flashback, of sorts.” Ranboo nodded, head movements limited by his positioning on the cushion. She moved closer, tools lying on the side of the table beside the cushion. A part of her wanted to ask where they came from. Did she do that? Prime if she knew. She was too tired to think about it, too tired to notice that she didn’t place it there herself. Nikki slowly started rubbing the backs of her hands against the tense muscles on the enderman’s shoulders, moving in small circles as she did so. As she put more and more pressure on the taut muscles, they began to relax under her careful eye. The effort it took to make just the tops of his shoulders relax was monumental for the smaller warrior, but the sighs of relief from Ranboo made it all worthwhile to her. She smiled slightly, empathetic side of her soaking in a similar amount of happiness. Her arms moved downwards of their own accord. She let her muscle memory do the talking, allowing her mind to wander away. In a haze of softened focus and the sweet, sweet scent of chorus fruit wafting in the air, she bathed in the calmness and the warmth of the situation.

It was almost pleasant to feel the boy’s muscles give way underneath her. Almost, being the key word. The slight amounts of pressure she had to keep on Ranboo at all times to keep him from teleporting away was the only thing keeping her grounded. All the same, she enjoyed his company. He never really spoke much outside of small, casual conversations, leading to comfortable stretches of silence between them. Personally, Nikki loved it. If she could, she’d love to have the team lounge about together. She knew it would be the most quality time she would ever get with a group of people who respect her for more than her baked goods. Nevertheless, she knew it was nigh impossible. When one side of the team was awake, the other was asleep. When all of them were around, they would all be in separate rooms. When they were all in the same place, they always had to go out to get new supplies, or fight off another horde of fools. Nikki longed to have more time with them, but… thus was their life. She-they chose it. She wouldn’t trade it for the world, even though there were a great many downsides to- “Ah- Nihikki!”

Nikki snapped back into focus, worry coloring her words. “Oh, I’m so sorry! Did I hurt you?” His tail curled around her arm, wagging slightly. Wait, wagging? She pushed gently at the spot that elicited the reaction, getting a similar squeak and a giggle. Oh. Nikki processed the information for a moment more, before snapping back to attention again. “Ranboo, are you, by any chance, ticklish?” Ranboo’s whole body froze, even his tail. “U-Uhhh….Would you believe me if I said no?” She tutted slightly. “Hmm, no, I don’t think so.” She moved her hands lower, delighting in the fact that the enderman had to bite his lip in order to keep all of the giggles in. His ears and tail flicked slightly, broadcasting how much he actually enjoyed it, even though he tried to protest every time she slowed down her testing for even a moment. “Why are you hiding you little giggles? I just want you to be happy, little enderboo!” At the nickname, the poor boy melted, small little warped giggles escaping. She stopped massaging in favor of lightly scratching all over his back, giggling softly herself when she felt his tail wiggle slightly because of the change. “Coochie coo, cutie pie! Giggle for me, dearie!” Ranboo couldn’t hold it in anymore. His giggles increased in volume and in pitch as she scratched at his lower back, tail unwinding and wagging from side to side in mirth. “Ehihihi! Nihihikkihihi!”

She cooed softly at him, enjoying his flustered whimpering and high-pitched giggles that starkly contrasted the low, deep voice her ally normally had. She found it even more endearing that, even though she couldn’t see the whole of his face, she knew that he was flushed a deep plum all over his cheeks and ears. “What’s the matter, Ranboo? Are you okay? You look a little...plum, if I may!” Ranboo groaned through his laughter. “Nihihikki! Nohoho puhuhuns…” “Oh, no Punz, you say? Of course there’s no Punz! You think that greedy pink piggy would want to come out to see us at this time of night?” At that, Ranboo’s squirming increased, forcing Nikki to pin him down further into the cushion with one of her hands. “You know, if you keep struggling like this, I may have to bring out the heavy-duty tools.” Ranboo shuddered violently, blush deepening at her words. “Unless, of course, you can keep your arms up for me~” She rolled him over, careful not to tense up the relaxed muscles by moving him around violently

. As his deep purple blush was revealed to the cooing baker, Ranboo’s hands twitched, having to fight the urge to simply curl up into a little duochromatic ball and avoid all contact from the other in a bid to keep his last shreds of dignity intact. But Nikki’s command, albeit concealed by soft, loving almond eyes and a sugar-sweet tone, was final, and he knew it. He chose to turn his head to the side instead, ears twitching madly in equal parts embarrassment and joy. Nikki took a step back from the cushion, looking down at her feet to avoid the enderman’s swishing tail. Watching to make sure her little victim didn’t escape while her back was turned, she picked up a small set of preening tools, all intended for other purposes. She would have to make do; after all, most people didn’t have a set of perfect grooming tools for the soft, almost silky fur of an enderman hybrid such as Ranboo.

Especially not him himself. No, that altruistic enderman refused to take care of himself. He refused to take dust baths or lava baths, saying that it was ‘too much to ask’ of them to give him some sand or a fire resistance potion (and some privacy). He refused to use Phil’s preening brushes, insisting that ‘enderman fur don’t get as gunked up as wing feathers’. Yeah, right. Even as she moved back towards the trembling, whimpering hybrid, she knew that brushing his fur would be a real challenge. The only way she was going to get the whole of his back and sides, along with his legs and tail, would be with his full cooperation. And boy, even though he could be a real pushover, he somehow always ended up refusing help at the very last minute, She sighed, resigning herself to a very, very long night.

Haha I just speedran this fic feeling good :3

#dsmp tickle #mcyt tickle #lee!ranboo #ler!nikki #My writing #downywrites #i am trying to get through my inbox :3 #tickle fic #sfw tickling

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sulphuryasecretcloset · 3 years

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What if...? Part 5

(I know, I knooooow....I said 4 parts. Then adjusted it to 5 parts... Guess what? I’m up to 7 now. I can only hope that will be the final number... T-T And I still blame y’all xD You beautiful enablers, you <3 You know who you are! Writer baiters, commenters and rebloggers, thank you all! <3 <3 <3)

What if Dulsissia hadn’t died, what if she had grabbed Corin and fled? What if she met Davarax? What if...

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

She has to get away. She has to run. She has to grab Corin and run. There are no storm troopers kicking in the doors of the Covert yet, there is still time. They can still try to get away.

The thoughts keep spinning inside her head and her heart is beating so hard she can barely hear anything except the pulse thumping in her ears. Her fingertips tingle and she’s dizzy.

“Just…” Davarax turns his attention to the children staring with horror at them. “Paz, continue the training. Everything is okay. Corin, do you hear me? Your mother just had a scare, but she’ll be fine. You’re all safe. I promise. Just go back to training and I’ll be back in a bit.”

Dulsissia makes a weak sound of protest when he bends down and picks her up like she’s a bride at a wedding and not in the middle of a disaster, but he ignores her and carries her out into the hallway.

“We’re going to your room and then you’re going to tell me what’s going on.” Davarax says, it’s a gentle tone but he’s determined.

“We have to leave…” Dulsissia whispers, strangely weak and helpless all of a sudden, haunted by the countless memories of Macero unleashing his fury on others for much smaller offences than the one she’s committed against him. His pride will never recover and he will never forgive her.

Davarax doesn’t answer, merely continues walking down the hallway and doesn’t stop until she has to reach out and press the button to open the door to her and Corin’s room.

When he steps inside, she notices Davarax pausing for half a second as his gaze goes from cup to cup and whatever else she had used to put the flowers in to place them all around the room, then he snaps out of it and walks over to lower her to sit on the edge of the bed.

Once she’s steady and her feet are on the floor, Davarax crouches down in front of her. “Dulcy, tell me what happened.”

“I went above.” She replies in a whisper, staring emptily ahead. She can feel herself wringing her hands until her fingers hurt and then a pang of absent gratitude when Davarax gently places his gloved hand over them to make her stop. “I saw… There are storm troopers in Nevarro.”

There is a moment of silence before Davarax says the least thing she expects; “I know.” He doesn’t sound surprised or worried at all. “Is that what upset you? A storm trooper?”

Snapping out of her staring, Dulsissia flicks her gaze down to his t-visor. “What do you mean you know?”

Davarax gives a faint shake of his head. “There’s a military base not too far from the city. They come in to get some extra supplies some times. Nobody really wants them here, but it’s safer for the people of Nevarro to just sell them their goods and get them on their way again.”

Confusion battles with her fear and Dulsissia tries to make sense of things. If Macero knew she was here, he wouldn’t send a lone storm trooper to chat up the villagers. The city would have been burning and there would be white armor everywhere. She swallows and exhales. Just a random trooper then? Or a scout? How can she be sure? “If… if a storm trooper came here not to buy goods, but to… look for someone. You wouldn’t know the difference, would you?”

“The Covert is keeping an eye on that base, believe me. And we have ears in the city. If something was going on, we’d know.” Davarax reassures her. He seems to need to gather a bit of courage before asking his next question: “Is… is that who you are hiding from? A storm trooper?”

A bitter laugh slips from Dulsissia’s lips before she can stop it. If only! A single storm trooper she could have handled, but Macero has thousands of them at his beck and call. “I wish.”

“An officer then.” Davarax deduces. His fingers curl gently around hers. “Do you want him dead?”

He is offering. If she says yes and gives him the name, Davarax will go for Macero’s life.

Dulsissia thinks about how in a fair fight Macero wouldn’t stand a chance against Davarax’ muscle and skills, but then she also thinks about Macero hiding away in the heart of the Empire, surrounded by guards and the terrifying amount of soldiers and all kinds of horrible weapons available to him.

“No.” She lies. She will not risk having Macero take Davarax away from her and the children.

Davarax looks at her, knows she’s lying, but eventually gives a nod. He respects her choice.

“I didn’t…” Dulsissia knows she doesn’t have to explain herself to Davarax, but she wants to. She can’t stand the idea of him thinking less of her now. His opinion matters to her. “I didn’t know he was like… that when I…” She exhales, sharp with anger at herself and her own naivety. “I could have handled it if my mistake only hurt me, but… I couldn’t do that to Corin. So I ran.” She looks over at the visor and forces a smile. “I guess you’re regretting those flowers now, huh?”

“Do you still love him? The officer?”

The idea is preposterous. Dulsissia shakes her head. “The man I fell in love with back then wasn’t real. He never was. It was all an act.”

“Then, no,” Davarax reaches up and tucks a lock of her hair behind her ear, “I don’t regret them.”

Her eyes flood with tears and Dulsissia cannot believe just how good this man is. How incredibly lucky she was to have met him in her hour of need. Him, of all the souls in the Galaxy. “You are a bit too good to be true, Sir.”

Davarax hums thoughtfully before speaking in that wonderfully teasing way of his. “As I said, I’m not ‘that’ good.” He then moves up to sit next to her and sighs. “I’ll double check with the others, though I think if there was someone looking for you, asking around, we’d hear about it. But first, we’re going to go back to the kids and you’re going to tell them you had a bad experience in the city but we’ve sorted it out and you’re okay now. Sounds good?”

Dulsissia nods. “Okay. I can do that.” Her son doesn’t need to worry too.

When they step back into the training room, Dulsissia feels another stab of sharp guilt when she sees Paz ordering Din, Raga and Barthor around the room, doing exercises, but has Corin under his arm in his usual protective mode. Corin, who has his arms around the older boy’s waist in return and looks like he’s been crying earlier.

Dulsissia doesn’t hesitate to head over to them and Corin turns to wrap his arms around her waist instead when she’s close enough and she hugs him tight. “I’m sorry, baby.” She kisses his hair.

“You… you need help with… whatever?” Paz asks, looking anxiously from her to Davarax and back again. The other children stop to stare at them as well.

Smiling, torn between guilt for having caused the boy to worry as well and endlessly charmed by Paz’ very real offer to help despite not having the faintest clue about what is going on, Dulsissia reaches out and cups the side of his face with her hand. (She is definitely charmed by the instant flush it causes.) “That is very kind of you, Paz. Thank you. But me and Davarax worked it out.”

Corin looks up at her with badly hidden hope. “Really?”

“Yeah.” She ruffles Paz’ hair, he ducks away with a faint laugh, and then she focuses on her son again. “Everything is fine.”

“So you’re not leaving?” A voice asks, loud and clear.

Everyone in the room turns in surprise to look at the one who’d spoken: Din. Who rarely speaks above a mumble. He is staring at Dulsissia with agonized worry in his eyes.

“We’re not leaving.” Dulsissia confirms in a calm and reassuring voice, realizing he fears losing his new friend like he had ‘lost’ Davarax. “We’re staying right here with you, Din.”

The boy nods, solemn as usual but now with obvious relief in his dark eyes. Much like the relief on Corin’s face as he smiles up at her. “We’re staying?”

“We’re staying.” Dulsissia combs his hair back with her hands. “Mommy was just being silly.”

And while there is a tiny ball of anxiousness in the pit of her stomach, Dulsissia takes one glance over at Davarax, who gives her a faint nod and she feels her strength and courage return.

She’s not alone. Not any more.

Hiccuping with relief, Corin dares to lets go of her, but just as he’s about to take a step away to rejoin the other children, he hesitates and looks back at her. And while it is so very, very tempting to just wrap her arms around him and hold on tight, the fear of losing him still so vivid in her mind, Dulsissia gives him a nudge.

Corin hesitates once more and then heads over to the other children, who include him like one of them. And that is what he is now, isn’t he? Dulsissia can’t let Macero take that away from him.

She’d panicked up in the city. She can’t afford to panic. Macero is a cold strategist, so she’ll have to become one too.

If he thinks he can take Corin away from her and have her back as the obedient little wife, he’s got a rude awakening coming to him.

A bit like the one Dulsissia gets the next day after walking Corin to training. (It’s difficult to go back to the room instead of hovering in case a battalion of storm troopers appear.) Something vicious snarls behind her just as she’s about to press the button to open the door.

Jumping around with a startled sound, Dulsissia fumbles for the blaster that isn’t in the lining of her pants because she didn’t bring it because she thought she was safe inside the Covert because she’s an idiot and… Oh.

Dulsissia puts on a careful smile and tries to pretend her heart didn’t just jump up into her throat. “Aren’t you supposed to be training with the others?”

Glaring at her with murderous intent through the crazy mane of curly hair, Raga makes another growl. The little girl is just standing there, her hands curled into tight fists and her skinny frame radiates waves of anger so strong it’s a miracle she’s not hovering over the floor.

Clearing her throat, Dulsissia crouches down. “Is there something wrong, Raga?”

At first it doesn’t look like she’s going to say anything, not even a growl, but suddenly the girl shouts at her. “Paz is MY friend, not yours! You don’t get to take him away! He’s mine!”

Dulsissia’s eyebrows makes a valiant effort to reach her hairline. Oh dear. Okay, time for some careful diplomacy here. Like Davarax does. “Raga, sweetie, I’m not trying to take Paz away from you. I promise. And he will never stop being your friend. He cares about you very much.”

The furious eyes flicker a little and Raga’s lower lip trembles a little. “But you’re pretty!” It’s an accusation, not a compliment. “Davarax thinks so too. He watches you all the time. But you don’t get to take Paz away!”

Sighing, Dulsissia tilts her head a little. “Sweetie…” She considers her options and straightens back up. “Why don’t you come in and we can talk a little.”

Raga instantly tenses up with another snarl. Her little shoulders draw up and her feet move into a stance where she can attack or bolt into retreat.

Dulsissia presses the button and the door opens. “You can have some cookies.”

Raga’s shoulders relaxes. “Okay.” And she trudges inside.

Dulsissia wants to help the girl settle on the chair, but a warning snarl makes her keep her hands to herself and she gets a plate of cookies to put on the table.

The girl grabs a handful and shoves them into her mouth, chewing noisily and not very ladylike.

Feeling like she’s defusing a bomb, Dulsissia tries to find some clever way to approach the subject. “I’m not going to take Paz away from you, Raga. I just want to be his friend. And yours.”

She gets an angry eye scowling at her through the mess of curls for her effort.

This is not going to be easy. But surely there must be some way to reach the girl. Something they have in common. Dulsissia makes another effort at a smile and gestures towards her. “You have such lovely hair.”

Raga pauses in her chewing, scans her warily before she mutters; “My mom wants me to cut it. I don’t want to.”

“Then you shouldn’t.” Dulsissia agrees.

Shrugging, Raga plucks at the edge of the table. “It’s not pretty. Like yours.”

“You have beautiful hair.” Dulsissia objects, daring to take a step closer. “I wish I had curls like you.”

That gets her another wary glance, but there is cautious curiosity instead of open hostility now. Raga sits up a little straighter. “Have to cut it when I put the helmet on…”

“Nonsense.” Dulsissia scoffs, gesticulating towards the wild hair. “With some braids, that shouldn’t be a problem.”

Now Raga is actually paying attention and the anger seems forgotten. “Really?” She frowns. “How?”

Dulsissia shrugs. “I could show you…?”

Raga’s eyes narrow for a second or two, then she gives a cautious nod.

It takes a long time untangling the crazy hair, not because it’s awfully tangled or Raga complains, but because Dulsissia is overly cautious about tugging her with the brush and enjoys doing something she actually have the skills to do. A lovely side-effect is how Raga sags more and more in the chair and almost falls asleep under the gentle treatment. There’s not a single growl.

Braiding most of the hair back from the very top to bottom in a simple but lovely pattern, once again taking her time, Dulsissia lets some hair hang free to frame Raga’s face so she can hide if she wants to, but the rest of her thick mane is now held back from obscuring her vision. That should make it easier for her to fight. She steps into the refresher and grabs a mirror so she can show Raga the final result.

“Look at that.” Dulsissia says, feeling no small amount of pride that Raga had trusted her enough to allow this. “Practical, yes? And you look so beautiful.”

Raga struggles against a tiny smile. “Do not.”

“You do.” Dulsissia reaches out and adjusts the braid a little with feigned nonchalance. “And just you wait until Paz sees this. He’s going to be so amazed. You look like such a warrior queen. The Mandalorian who can kick butt ‘and’ have long hair. I bet he’s never seen that before.”

Raga puts the mirror on the table and ducks her head down, now as flustered as the aforementioned Paz had become when Dulsissia kissed his cheek. “M’not pretty.” She mumbles, but she is smiling.

“You are ‘beautiful’.” Dulsissia insists. “Come. Let’s go show the others.” It’s about time she picked up Corin so why not show off her accomplishment too?

She just isn’t prepared for her heart absolutely shattering the moment they step into the hallway and begin to make their way towards the training room and Dulsissia feels Raga’s hand reach over and take a hold of hers.

And luckily, after seeing how excited the girl was to show off her braid, Dulsissia’s predictions were completely accurate. Not only Paz stops what he’s doing, but the three other boys too, and they all flock around her to admire and try to figure out how the braid was made.

“You got to teach me how to do that.” Paz declares, mesmerized.

“I’ll think about it.” Raga snootily replies, slapping Din’s hand away from her hair.

Dulsissia has to bite her lip to keep from laughing. Which is when Davarax sidles up next to her by the doorway where she’s watching the kids.

“Okay,” he says, “show me your hands. Hold them up and let me see them.”

A little confused but mostly amused, Dulsissia holds up her hands and looks over at him. “Why?”

“Because I want to see how many fingers she bit off before you managed to subdue her.” Davarax says, nodding towards Raga.

Laughing and giving him a smack to the stomach, which doesn’t cause him to flinch at all, it’s like slapping a wall, Dulsissia turns her attention back to Raga and feels an intense joy in seeing the smile still on her face. “She’s a sweet girl.”

“Yeah, she is.” Davarax agrees, with no small amount of affection. “But she doesn’t give her trust to just anyone. People have to work for her trust and most adults take offence to that in a child.”

Dulsissia forgets to breathe when he tucks a lock of her hair behind her ear and this time lets his gloved finger trail down the side of her neck as well before his hand just rests on her shoulder.

“If you keep this up, you’re going to end up with every single one of them falling in love with you.” He murmurs.

Dulsissia dares to glance over at him and sees her reflection in his t-visor. Her heart is suddenly racing again but this time not from fear. “I think… I would like that.”

“Yeah?” Davarax asks, his voice low and soft and only meant for her ears. “You wouldn’t mind a big family? Even if they came with their… issues. And were a lot of work.”

“I can’t think of anything I’d want more.” She replies, her voice a little shaky but she means it. “A big family, all that love, why wouldn’t I want that?”

Davarax lets out a soft exhale and he stretches out his finger again, trails it along the collar of her shirt. “I’m starting to think that maybe ‘you’ are a little too good to be true.”

Dulsissia lower her eyelashes and tries for a sneaky smile despite how she can feel her face burning. “Trust me. I’m not ‘that’ good.”

His finger pauses on her skin.

In that moment, it’s like it is just the two of them on the entire planet, but of course that isn’t true and they are sent crashing back to reality at the sound of running feet and Corin’s voice;

“Mommy, can you braid my hair too?”

Davarax yanks his hand away and she turns to her son with a faint laugh. “I’m sorry, baby. I think you may have to grow your hair out a bit for that.”

No storm troopers flood into Nevarro, kicking down doors while looking for her and Corrin. The trooper she had seen must have been from the military base without any connection to Macero. Dulsissia wants to believe she’s safe, but the experience has left her skittish and reluctant to head up into the city again.

At least she can’t cause trouble as long as she stays in the Covert, right? Wrong.

Clearly the training had gone on a little longer than usual because they’re still in the middle of things when Dulsissia enters the room to pick up her son. The sound of the door opening distracts the kids; Paz looks over just as he’s throwing a punch and Din looks over as he side-steps, but Din steps to the wrong side and Dulsissia watches with horror as the punch slams into Din’s face.

Davarax and the other children automatically move over to where Din is squirming on the floor and covering his face with both hands. Dulsissia runs over as well and she’s seeing blood by the time she’s halfway there.

“Easy, take it easy.” Davarax kneels down and helps Din sit up. “Let me see.”

“I didn’t… I didn’t mean to…” Paz makes a half-choked sound when Din lowers his trembling hands and reveals the blood gushing from his nose.

Dulsissia, knowing this was her fault, not his, slides her arm around Paz’ shoulders in a weak offer of comfort and support. He just stares at Din.

“It was an accident, Paz.” Davarax says, cupping Din’s face and gingerly prods the already swelling nose. He then lowers his hands with a sigh. “Yeah, it’s broken.”

Paz makes that sound again and Raga moves over to his other side and takes his hand in hers. Her eyes are big and solemn. Barthor is watching with a blank face. But Corin looks ready to pass out.

“You want me to do it or the medic?” Davarax asks Din.

“You.” Din replies, sounding like his sinuses are severely clogged.

Davarax nods, and if not for the situation being what it is; Dulsissia would have been shocked beyond words at the sight of Davarax pulling off his gloves and revealing his bare hands. Strong, confident hands. That move up to touch Din’s face again, focusing on his nose.

“Okay, you ready?” Davarax asks.

“’eah.” Din mumbles through the blood.

Before Dulsissia can really understand what is going on, Davarax does something, there is a disturbing crunch and then he lowers his hands again. “Done, but you’re going to need some ice on that. Up you go. Come on.”

“I didn’t mean to.” Paz offers a little helplessly. “I thought you were going to dodge. Otherwise I wouldn’t have… so hard…” He’s genuinely distressed. “You… you want to punch me?”

Getting up on shaky legs, once again assisted by Davarax, Din shakes his head with a faint smile. “Stob. S’find. Aggsidendt. Mby fauht too.”

Paz steps forward and reaches out to take a hold of his arm, clearly worried Din will just flop over again. “Ice. We’re getting you ice. Okay. Ice. Yeah. Let’s go.”

Corin looks over at Dulsissia, despair in his eyes, clinging to Din’s other arm. “Mom?”

Dulsissia nods. “It’s okay, Corin. You go with him. Come back after, yeah?”

Paz and Corin hold Din between them, Raga marches ahead to clear a path, while Barthor trails slowly after them. He pauses by the door, looks back at Dulsissia with narrow eyes and then disappears along with the other kids.

Dulsissia looks over at Davarax picking up his gloves and how he wipes the blood off his hands on his clothes. There is that golden skin again. He must look gorgeous under that armor and yet all she can think about is... “That was my fault.”

Davarax shakes his head and there is an amused tone when he speaks. “That was not anybody’s fault. It was an accident. Accidents happen.” The t-visor turns towards her. “They got distracted by the door, true, but do you think the fights out there, in the real world, is contained to quiet rooms with Do Not Disturb signs? No. They need to learn to ignore distractions or pay the price. I don’t think those two boys will make that mistake again, do you?”

Probably not. And it might be lesson that could save their lives later. But still doesn’t feel nice.

Dulsissia distracts herself by looking at Davarax’ hands again. The gloves look worn. “You need new gloves.”

Davarax studies his gloves and shrugs. “They’re good for a little while longer.”

“Would it be better if I got you some new gloves?” She asks.

Davarax lowers his hands and tilts his head a little. “Better? Better than what?”

“When you gave me that blaster, I didn’t understand what that meant.” Dulsissia says. “I realize now that bringing you some stupid cookies wasn’t… right. But I’m not sure if gloves are right either. I mean, Decco said weapons or armor. Do gloves count as armor?”

“What? No. Nono.” Davarax takes a step closer. “The cookies weren’t stupid. Or wrong. I’ve gotten weapons and armor before, but never cookies. Cookies that you made. That was… I liked it.”

Stupidly flattered, Dulsissia lowers her gaze and tries to not act like a twelve year old girl. “So, that’s a ‘no’ on the gloves?”

Davarax leans close and murmurs; “I prefer the cookies.” before he walks over to clean up the blood.

At first she thinks it is just coincidence and bad luck, but on the second day when door after door in the Covert refuses to open for her and no one else is having this problem, Dulsissia starts to wonder if it is something more.

That is confirmed on the day when she steps inside and finds her room filled with countless hairy bugs scuttling over the floor and walls and even the ceiling.

Her screams didn’t just bring Davarax running to the rescue, but also half of the Covert; thinking they were under attack by something horrible.

After that incident, she has little doubt as to who is the evil mastermind behind her recent misfortune. There is only one who could do stuff like this and get away with it.

Knocking on the door, Dulsissia puts on a polite smile and when it opens, she asks the person there; “May I speak with Barthor, please?”

The Mandalorian sighs and leans against the door frame. “What’s that boy done now?” There is dry irritation and resentment in that voice. And for some reason, that annoys Dulsissia.

“Nothing.” She chirps. “I brought him some sweets.” Dulsissia holds up the small packet with sweets she’d brought as bribery. “He’s a friend of my son. In Davarax’ group.”

The Mandalorian straightens and shakes their head with a sigh. “Whatever. He’s in his room.”

They point towards a door and walks off.

Dulsissia scowls at their back. No wonder the boy is pulling pranks to get attention.

Knocking on the door and then pushing the button to open it, Dulsissia steps into what is a small but extremely tidy room.

Barthor is sitting on his bed, reading, and the second he sees her; he jumps off the bed to land on the other side and just about cowers there. “You can’t prove anything!”

“Oh, I am aware of that.” Dulsissia says. “Davarax said you were incredibly clever, so I know you know how to cover your tracks. I’m not here to get you into trouble.”

He peers suspiciously at her. “Why are you here?”

“May I sit?” She points at the bed as there are no chairs or any other option in the room. When he just keeps glaring at her, Dulsissia sits down on the bed anyway and starts opening the packet. “I’m here because I wanted to talk to you. I’m hoping we can be friends.”

“Friends.” Barthor sneers, still in hiding. “You don’t want to be my friend.”

“I do.” Dulsissia says, putting a sweet in her mouth before holding the box out towards him and offering him some. She suspects he’d never eat anything he didn’t see her eat first after what he’s done to her. And after a little scowling, he reaches out and takes a sweet. “I just need to know why you’re so angry with me. Did I do something to upset you, Barthor? Do you mind telling me what that was?”

Barthor keeps glaring at her, but she can see the clever mind working and looking for whatever motive she has for doing this. Eventually he straightens up and goes from scowling to defiant glaring. “I don’t want you to take Davarax away.”

Dulsissia shakes her head. “I’m not taking him away.”

“Yes, you are.” Barthor states, calm but definitely angry. “In the past, I could always go to him if I had questions or needed help.”

“You can still do that.” Dulsissia claims.

“When I needed his help on my project, guess where he was.” Barthor dares her.

She shakes her head, having no clue.

“He was out picking flowers.” Barthor throws his arms out in clear disbelief. “Flowers! Stupid, pointless flowers.” He sets his angry glare in her again. “And I’ve seen the way he looks at you and you look at him. You’re not even a Mandalorian!”

Dulsissia swallows down the urge to snap back at the boy. “Here’s the thing, Barthor; Davarax has the right to have a personal life too. He lives and breathes for you children, he really does, but he also likes me. And I like him. That’s not going to stop just because you are mean to me. You know that. The only thing you can achieve is make me upset and disappoint Davarax, and I doubt the latter is something you want.”

For the first time, Barthor lowers his gaze. His shoulders slump slightly.

“How about a deal?” Dulsissia suggests.

The boy looks up at her again.

“How about, instead of you being mean and me supposedly taking Davarax away, we become friends and we all spend time together?”

Barthor scoffs with so much scorn and conviction it hurts. “You’re just saying that. You don’t want to spend time with me. No one does.”

Dulsissia purses her lips thoughtfully. Challenge accepted.

Davarax looks a little confused when she shows up that evening at his door and hands him a written invitation to dinner the next day. He looks at the card and then her and shifts a little uneasily. “I, uh, would love to, but…”

“Oh, I know you can’t actually eat,” Dulsissia waves a dismissive hand at him, “I just need you to be there.”

Davarax looks at the card again and gives a slow nod. “O-kay….?”

“Excellent!” And with that, she darts back to her own room. She’d handed cards to Corin and Din to deliver at Paz’, Raga’s and Barthor’s residences too.

There’s not much Dulsissia Motti knows how to do, but she knows how to throw a dinner!

The resources are limited, the dining area even more so, but Dulsissia makes the best out of it and she has two excellent helpers in Corin and Din.

Poor Din, with his still colourful and sore nose, spends more time at her place than he does his own home and Dulsissia has grown quite used to having the quiet boy underfoot by now. He doesn’t say much, but he doesn’t mind hard work and he hasn’t run off with Corin again.

When the day comes, Dulsissia is a bit nervous, which is hilarious. She has thrown dinners and parties for men who ruled half of the Galaxy and she never broke a sweat doing so, but these children and that man, their approval means everything to her.

The first of the other children to arrive is Paz. He’s early and hangs out in the kitchen with her, interfering with her cooking until she slaps him over the fingers and he instructs her to avoid certain spices (Barthor is allergic.), not to place those vegetables on Raga’s plate (She doesn’t like them.), and that Din loves an obscene amount of salt on his food. (The weirdo.) Dulsissia tries to ask him if he doesn’t rather want to play with Corin and Din, but Paz shakes his head and inspects the boiling pot like a security guard.

However, when Raga stomps into the room, she drags Paz away and they huddle together next to the other two to talk quietly while Dulsissia sets the table.

Usually Corin and Din help her with this, but today she has informed them they are all entirely off kitchen duty.

Today is her gift to all of them.

Davarax is next to appear and he is visibly surprised when he steps into the room and the children all jump up to run over and greet him. Handing out hair ruffles and playful nudges, Davarax sneaks a glance over at her as Dulsissia puts some flowers on the dining table. She gives him a smile.

(Dulsissia has had to rearrange the room, pushing the beds over to one side, borrow a table and chairs, but they will all fit at least.)

Davarax also offers to help her, but she gives him firm orders to go play with the children.

(She does not blush at his faint snort of laughter or the brief touch of his hand to her hip. Nope. Okay, maybe a little.)

When the food is ready and on the table, on time, Dulsissia takes her seat and watches the others choose their own seating. On her right sits Davarax, on her left is Corin and next to him, Din. At the opposite side of the table of Din, there sits Raga, who of course has Paz next to her. But the chair next to him is empty.

Dulsissia feels a tiny stab of disappointment.

She’d known there was no guarantee that Barthor would show up but she’d hoped…

“Okay, everyone,” Dulsissia chirps, determined to make the meal memorable for the others at least, vowing to find some other way to convince Barthor he is welcome, “let’s-”

There is a knock on the door.

Davarax gets up and walks over to open it.

It’s Barthor. He looks tense and wary, but Davarax pretends not to notice and merely ushers him inside. “We were waiting for you. Come on. There’s your seat. Hop to it.”

Dulsissia can’t stop smiling. She beams at Barthor, who greets her with a tiny nod, no scowling, and finally things feel right. Everyone is there.

The children chatter, bicker and eat. Corin laughs at something Din said to Paz.

Paz, who completely ignores the fact that Raga is eating off his plate and merely reaches over to slap Barthor’s shoulder to inform him that he’ll make him run twenty laps during training tomorrow if he doesn’t make a stink-bomb that Paz can plant under Din’s bed.

“No stink-bombs.” Davarax orders, pointing from Barthor to Paz and back again.

Barthor shrugs and focuses on his food. “I wouldn’t know how to make one anyway.” But the smile on his face says otherwise and Paz cackles with glee.

Davarax tells tales from his travels and answers their questions with never-ending patience as usual. Dulsissia makes sure everyone is tended to, takes care to talk to each of them, delights in watching them squirm under compliments as well as some gentle teasing. Even Barthor.

It’s perfect.

This… This is what Dulsissia has always been missing in her own life.

This is what she had been craving, even as a little girl and had no idea what she was aching for while she was surrounded by endless wealth and loneliness. This is what she thought she could have when she got married and didn’t. This is what she wants for her son.

Yeah, this definitely feels right.

This feels like… family.

#the mandalorian his son and the storm trooper #Dulsissia Motti #Davarax #Baby Corin #Fearsome Four #Mandorin AU

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wardenannie · 3 years

Text

Warning for drug use (Marijuana). Also NSFW so be warned!!

All sensation is more defined when she's high. More definite. Pristine, even. As though with every touch, taste, or smell she is communing with some great other. It's enough to make Hange wonder why she doesn't do this more often?

Then her partner passes her the bowl, and she forgets the thought entirely as she inhales a smooth, watermelon-flavored puff of smoke.

"C'mere," Levi orders before she exhales, smoke filling up her lungs. He pulls her into an open mouthed kiss, and she exhales into his mouth instinctively as her tongue drags along his.

His lips are soft, warm and pliant under hers. He tastes like weed.

Levi pulls away and exhales a white trail of smoke. Hange rests the bowl on the arm of the couch.

These nights. These rare, beautiful summer nights; carefree, without responsibility, they follow a distinct pattern.

Hange wets her lips with her tongue and leans across the couch, prodding Levi in the arm with her finger. He's much more relaxed when he's high, he isn't even trying to take out her trash or vacuum her carpets.

"How did Connie get his hands on this watermelon stuff?" She asks, her voice funny in her own ears.

Levi hums thoughtfully, "As if I'd know. The brat has his hookups, has ever since he was a student."

"Don't remind me that I'm contributing to the delinquency of a former pupil!" Hange laughs, and laughs, and laughs until there are tears in her eyes. It's just that funny, and she can tell by the way that Levi is smirking that he agrees.

"Wanna order a pizza?" She asks once she calms down. She's crawled halfway onto his body, lips brushing along the smooth, pale column of his throat. Hange is always like this after they smoke, practically attached to Levi by the hip. It's because of how warm he is, how warm he makes her insides feel... how warm he makes her feel there.

"Munchies?" Levi asks, long fingers trailing down her arm. His eyes are already sparking with carnal hunger. It's enough to make Hange shiver and reach for the bowl again. There's still some pot left in it, and she doesn't intend to waste any.

She hums in affirmation. This time he doesn't coax her into shotgunning him as he pulls his phone from his pocket. She still exhales in his face just to see his expression.

High Levi hardly seems annoyed. Hange likes high Levi. She kisses the sharp corner of his jaw and whispers in his ear, "I want you to fuck me before the pizza gets here."

Levi's nostrils flare, face tinted red by the glare of the Pizza Hut app. That's out of order. Normally they eat, smoke until their heads are spinning, then fuck each other silly.

Hange's fingertips trail down his clothed chest to his crotch. His cock is obvious, already pressing against his fly.

"Can you do that for me, Heichou." The nickname is an inside joke within the staff of the school. They all call Levi, the head custodian, Captain.

Levi swallows thickly, eyes refocusing on his phone as he works out their order with one hand. The other is caressing along her ass, then over her hip to the hem of her leggings. There he presses several teasing fingers past her panties, feeling how wet she already is for him.

"Olives?" He asks, nonchalant.

Hange gasps, eyelids fluttering. She feels so hot already, flustered. Her head is beginning to spin. Maybe from the weed... more likely from Levi's deft fingers teasing the folds of her pussy.

"Y-yes," she pants. "And-

"Banana peppers," he hums, voice low and rumbling through his chest. "Got it."

He presses a large red button prompt then drops his phone onto the arm of the couch, turning his full attention onto Hange.

Hange laughs again, quavering this time as Levi's index finger settles over her clit, "You know me so well."

Levi only hums in answer, carefully removing his hand from her leggings as he snatches up the bowl and lighter.

"Hey," Hange whines lazily as he pushes her back onto the couch.

This time he shotguns her, probing her mouth with his tongue as she inhales the fruity smoke. She hums into the kiss, winding her arms around the back of his neck to keep him close.

"Let go," he whines softly softly they part in a watermelon flavored cloud. "I'm too high to undress all-sexy."

She let's go and he hastily yanks his shirt over his head, revealing the lean, muscular expanse of his torso.

"You're always sexy," Hange sits up and removes her own t-shirt and bra, tossing them away, forgotten in from of her TV.

"We've got twenty minutes," Levi says as he works down the fly of his pants and shucks them off along with his boxers. His cock bounces free, and Hange can't help be wonder at how pretty it is. How could a penis be so nice to look at? All hard and ruddy, veined and leaking precum from the tip. She wants to kiss it, but as she peels off her leggings it's obvious that Levi has other ideas.

"It's okay to go fast," Hange entreats, eyes hooded and sultry. "We can go slow later, when there's more time."

Levi grunts in agreement and wraps his arms around Hange's thighs, pulling her bottom flush to his crotch. The thick shaft of his cock settles nicely between the swollen lips of her cunt, and she bucks against it with a needy moan.

"Want you to fuck me," she pleads. She can feel the high tingling in her fingertips, and she wants nothing more than for Levi to split her wide so she can feel his cock, too.

Levi ducks over her, breath hot on her breasts as he angles the fat head of himself against her opening. He swipes it there for a moment, gathering up her wetness.

"Want another hit before I-

"No," Hange kicks her legs slightly, sidling closer to his dick. "Please, Levi, just put it in. Wanna feel it in my throat."

With that Levi's skintone deepens with flush, and he presses into her in one, easy movement, seating himself to the hilt. They both gasp. Levi throws his head as her walls clench and adjust around him. Hange's eyes roll as he fills her up to the brim.

It's a magical feeling on any day, to have Levi inside of her, thrusting into with powerful, narrow hips. But there's something exceptionally sublime about fucking her lover while she's high. The world around them seems to bend at the tide of their lovemaking, warping around them as time slows and she savors each pulse of him inside her.

Her ankles lock at the small of his back and her nails rake over his shoulders as he begins to thrust. Hange, ever the active lover, reciprocates his movements by fucking her hips up and onto him. Their flesh smacks wetly and their moans fill up the tiny space of her apartment.

Levi's fingers are adept at finding her clit, and he begins to circle it roughly while still gripping her thigh with his off hand. She's already eager to see what sort of bruises he'll leave for her to find tomorrow.

"Good?" He pants, lurching forward to kiss her. He tastes like watermelon, weed, and true love, she thinks.

When they part she nodded furiously, "S-so fucking good. Harder."

Her nails dig into his shoulder as he begins to snap his hips in brutal thrusts. The carnal cacophony of their fucking rings like a symphony in Hange's drug addled ears. His fingers work more insistently at her clit as his body goes taut as a bowstring.

"'M coming," she whimpers as her cunt spams and her muscles go tight. She moans her way through it, shutting her eyes and savoring Levi's continued minstrations. Fluid drips around Levi's cock and onto the couch. She doesn't mind, he always makes sure to work the stains out of her furniture.

As she comes down her whole body relaxes, limbs going limp as she looks up at Levi through blurry vision. His face is red, cheeks puffed slightly, both hands now gripping her hips with bruising force as he pounds into her with everything he has.

"Come in me," Hange whispers in encouragement, reaching up and cupping his cheek with such out-of-place tenderness. She feels his dick swell and pulse inside of her, "You're so close, Heichou."

At the sound of his nickname on her lips, Levi's hips stutter and he gives a few more staggered thrusts before planting himself deep and coming with a throaty moan.

Hange kisses his face through it, peppering his cheeks and forhead and nose as he fills her up. Her fingers tangle into his hair, and when he finishes and slides out of her she pulls him into a kiss.

Just then there is a knock on the door, and a disturbingly familiar voice calls out, "Pizza for Ackerman?"

"Shit," Levi goes bolt upright, reaching frantically for his pants.

"Is that Eren?" Hange asks, horrified.

The pizza boy knocks again, more insistently this time.

"Damn. I forgot, Mikasa told me he got a job delivering pizzas," he buttons his fly and tugs on his shirt with frightening speed. Hange remains naked and lounging on the sofa.

"Don't tell him that I'm here," Hange cautions, already reaching for the bowl and lighter. "And try not to act high!"

Levi rolls his eyes, headed for the door, "He's going to be able to smell it."

Hange exhales a long column of smoke, their mixed fluids are leaking out of her and onto the cushions, "Well, at least we'll have pizza."

#drug mention #tw drugs #levihan #my writing

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 3 years

Text

𝑭𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝑺𝒏𝒐𝒘 (𝑪𝒉𝒐𝒊 𝑺𝒂𝒏)

Tag: @seacottons

𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝐶ℎ𝑜𝑖 𝑆𝑎𝑛 (𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧)/ 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 (𝐹𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑒)

𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: 𝐹𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓, 𝐷𝑎𝑑! 𝐴𝑈.

𝑊𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝐶𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 2𝐾

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒'𝑠 𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑆𝑎𝑛 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑦 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑑, 𝑠𝑛𝑜𝑤𝑦 𝑑𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟.......𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟, 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑏𝑜𝑡ℎ 𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑎 𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑦 𝑏𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑙𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑗𝑜𝑦.

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~December 5th~

Y/N hurried towards her friends who were already settled at the very top of the mountain, their snowboards and skiis all lined up in a perfect row.

"Last one down pays for dinner." One of them suggested to which they all unanimously agreed to.

"3, 2, Go!"

The racers all started sloping down the snowy mountain, some going to different directions, but ultimately they were all headed south. Y/N shifted her weight to keep balance on her snowboard. Usually she'd show off and do a trick, but right now she was focused on getting down as fast as possible.

"Pick up the pace Y/N!" Her friend teased as they swooped right past her.

Y/N let out a snort as she leaned forward to get more speed and traction. She also decided to move more to the right, where she knew a shortcut that none of the others knew about. She let out a small chuckle at the thought of their faces when they saw her all the way down there.

Her smile faded fast when she saw someone step out right in front of her, a dark haired male that seemed preoccupied with taking a picture he didn't notice she was coming.

"Look out!" She shouted, finally getting his attention.

The boy froze and seemed unable to move. Y/N swerved to the left, a little too fast and ended up falling off her board, tumbling down a few feet before landing on a bed of snow. She groomed softly as she lifted her head, already feeling the aching of her muscles.

"Are you ok?!" The same man who had inadvertently caused her accident ran over and helped her sit up.

"I...think so?" She asked rather than answered.

She quickly stood up, taking off her googles and winter hat to try and inspect what damage had been done not only to her body but to her board. She dusted some of the snow off her and looked up to find the mystery man looking at her intently.

"What? Am I bleeding?" She touched her face and forehead, not a stranger to bleeding due to some of the accidents she'd been through.

"No! Not at all!! Just......"

He smiled shyly, dimples clearly shown on his cheeks as his eyes formed small crescents.

"You're really pretty..." He confessed awkwardly, leaving her baffled and speechless.

"Th-thank you....you're pretty handsome yourself..." She tucked some hair behind her ear.

"I'm San." He introduced himself, holding out a hand for her to take, which she promptly did.

"I'm Y/N."

You were sad that you had to pay for your friend's dinner because you lost, but you weren't to sad because San asked you out for a date the next day.

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~January 12, One Year Later~

"Brrr. It's freezing out there."

San shook the snow off him, placing his boots on the corner.

"I told you it was going to snow, but you don't listen." She rolled her eyes at him.

Adding marshmallows to the hot chocolate, she picked them up and set them down on the table in front of the fireplace, then proceeded to wrap one of the blankets around herself. San wasted no time in cuddling up next to her and taking one of the mugs in his hand, sipping slowly so as to not burn himself. Smiling sweetly at her, he scooted closer to her, his head resting on her shoulder.

"Remember when we met last year?" He suddenly spoke.

Y/N nearly spat her chocolate back into the mug.

"Ahhh yes. You mean when I nearly killed you?"

San laughed softly at that.

"Never in my life did I think I'd actually end up dating my almost murderer."

She rolled her eyes at that.

"You were the idiot that wasn't paying attention." She reminded him.

"I was trying to take a picture of a bunny that was nearby thank you. Which you scared off by the way."

They began reminiscing about their times after a year of dating, laughing about their first fight, their first kiss and the times they met each other's respective parents.

"You looked terrified of my dad."

"How was I supposed to be calm? Especially after he said he wanted to talk to me in private?" San defended himself.

Y/N hummed softly.

"What did he talk to you about anyway?"

San shrugged softly.

"The usual...like...if I broke your heart, he was going to break my balls."

Y/N actually slapped her knee at that one, knowing fully well her father would really be the type to say such things.

San scratched the back of his head as he wondered if he should say the next part.

"He.....also asked....... if I loved you...."

Y/N felt her heart drop at that word. Even though they had been dating for a year, they had never said the L word. She wanted to change the subject, afraid of his answer, but curiosity got the better of her and she had to ask.

"What....what did you tell him?" She fidgeted with the ends of her hoodie.

San shifted so he sat in front of her. Taking her hands in his, he confessed:

"I told him I loved you with all my heart and that.....I hoped you felt the same way..."

He looked at her with hopeful eyes, gulping slightly, afraid that his feelings weren't reciprocated. When Y/N didn't respond for a minute, he let out a defeated sigh.

"All right. I understand." He made move to get up, but Y/N made him stay in place.

"No silly. I was just shocked you actually told my father that." She explained.

"Well I wasn't going to lie. I do love you Y/N, truly I do." His voice sounded desperate at this point.

Y/N teared up and pulled him into a tight embrace.

"Oh Sannie.....I love you too."

San widened his eyes at her words, he felt himself tearing up as well, but he was filled with warmth at the thought that she felt the same, it was not a one sided love. He couldn't help himself as he cupped her face and began pecking her lips repeatedly.

"I love you. I love you with all my heart."

He giggled as he intensified his kisses, turning them from small pecks into more heated and passionate lip locks that had her craving for more. San ended up pushing her onto the floor, his hands placed on either side of her face. They both looked at each other, both wanting to ask the same question but too shy to actually speak out about having their first time right then.

"Y/N.....if you don't want to, we can-"

She silenced him by pulling him on top of her and resuming their makeout session.

"I want to. Go ahead." She assured him.

San kissed her forehead.

"I love you so much."

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~December 25, 3 years later~

All of the boys gathered around the tree, already ecstatic at the thought of opening their presents.

"I'm really looking forward to Yeosang's gift for me." Mingi bounced in his seat.

"I told you. I got you socks." Yeosang repeated for the thousandth time, making everybody burst out laughing.

"You know you're just joking Sangie." Wooyoung pinched his cheek, much to Yeosang's dismay.

The clock struck midnight, signaling that it was now time to open presents. There was a lot of noises, squealing and rustling of paper heard, the latter all discarded near the floor, soon picked up by Seonghwa, who hated seeing litter scattered about.

"Perfect for you Hwa. I actually got you a broom and dustpan set." Hongjoong snickered as he held out the cleaning supplies from the house to his friend.

"Shut up." Seonghwa groaned, not at all amused by the joke.

"Calm down. I actually got you something else." Hongjoong held out the actual gift, which turned out to be Toothless slippers and bathrobe set. It made Seonghwa burst out laughing, donning his infamous awkward smile.

"Yah! What is this Kang Yeosang?!" Mingi held out a box full of assorted socks.

Yeosang merely shrugged.

"What? You all laughed and joked that I wasn't serious. Jokes on you bitches. I was dead serious." Yeosang sipped his tea as he stared Mingi down, who merely pouted.

"Look on the bright side Mingi. Yunho might stop complaining about you stealing his socks." Seonghwa patted his shoulder.

"It's not me!" Mingi retorted.

"No one else's feet but yours fit in them!" Yunho accused him.

Y/N and San just laughed and decided to just enjoy the presents they got for each other. Y/N was happy that San liked his presents, but she was saving the best for last, knowing he was going to go wild about it.

Pulling him outside, she closed the door behind them both, ignoring the chaos going on inside.

"If it's another mistletoe trick, I won't mind." San was already puckering his lips.

"No silly....there's another present I wanted to give you."

"Oh?" San tilted his head.

She pulled out a small and thin white box that had a purple ribbon wrapped around it. San shook it near his ear, trying to guess what was in it, but had no clue. He carefully unwrapped the ribbon and opened the box. He had to do a double take as he peered into the contents. He looked at his lover with wide eyes.

"Is this....?" He asked for confirmation.

She nodded and chuckled happily. San's face lit up and he picked her up, spinning her around as he kissed the side of her head.

"Oh my God! This is the best Christmas present ever my love! Thank you!"

Tears of joy started streaming down his face as he embraced the love of his life for a long time. He wasted no time in speeding back inside the house and wave the object around for everyone to see.

"Guys! We're having a baby! You're all gonna be uncles!"

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~December 5, Present Day~

San and Y/N made sure the carrier was covered fully by the long and thick blanket. After making sure it was sunny, San opened the door and allowed his sweetheart to walk out. Y/N carefully walked down the steps of the cabin they always stayed in since the day they met. San followed after her, one step behind her, ready to help if she needed anything.

They both looked at each other and smiled. Y/N put the carrier gently down on the blanket of snow as San took out his camera.

"Ready." San gave her the ok sign.

Y/N peeled back the blanket covering the carrier, revealing their tiny 4 month old baby daughter, who was now wide awake and observing her surroundings.

"Smile snowflake." San took a picture of her.

Light snow started to fall around them and the tiny baby reached her hand out to touch this new object that was foreign to her. A tiny snowflake fell on her nose and she sneezed softly when it made contact with her skin.

Her parents couldn't help but coo at how lovely and adorable she was. Picking her up along with several blankets, Y/N showed off the view to her.

"Look darling. This is the exact spot daddy and I met years ago."

San chuckled as he kept taking photos of his two most precious treasures in his life. After getting his fill, he walked up next to Y/N, poking his daughter's cheek.

"Even though you were born in summer, I'm sure you'll learn to love the winter just as much as we do."

The baby continued to be fascinated by the falling snow around her, her arms flailing into the air, trying to catch it, only to fall in confusion every time it melted in her tiny hand.

"I say she already loves it." Y/N noticed her reactions.

"I'm glad she does. I can't wait to bring her here every year to watch the first snow fall every time." San kissed her tiny head before looking back at his wife and repeating the action on her forehead.

"I love you. And I love our precious snowflake too."

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hwrryscherry · 3 years

Text

The one where Y/N is from a very famous family.

blurb: Harry is going to meet Famous Y/N’s family for the first time on a family trip to their holiday house in Monaco. He’s very nervous about meeting your highly successful in Hollywood family and you’d try to give him the best weekend getaway ever.

word count: 2.9K

warnings: Y/B/N= your brother’s name - Y/S/N= your sister’s name. Y/L/N= your last name.

author’s note: This was a request and I just gotta say that I loved this concept, and even though it took me a while to write because I had so many ideas and I had to organize my thoughts I loved it. And I’m actually thinking about making this a serie, what do you guys think???? Also it’s crazy but I spent so much time deciding on face claims to Y/N’s family lol i’m weird and this is the request which Y/N’s face claim is Romee Strijd, BUT ANYWAY I hope you like it as much as I do!!!

The weather was really hot in Monaco, and you felt it on your skin when you left the private jet that just landed at Monaco Airport (MCM). The warm rays of the sun were in contact with your skin immediately as you raised your head to direct your gaze to the sky. It was an open sky with almost, no clouds and the sun shining more than ever. Your eyes ached from the sunlight making you lower your head again feeling your long strands of hair fall to the front of your shoulders covered in the little baby pink blazer as you both waited for your car to come to take you to your family's vacation house.

Harry was sweating, and it wasn't because of the heat. Well, not entirely.You two have been dating for the past 9 months, and this is the first time that Harry will ever meet your family as you wanted to be completely sure that you were doing the right thing. Yes, it was the first time that he would meet your extremely famous, rich and adored family in Hollywood. He would finally meet your father, who has been one of his favorite actors since he was 12 years old. He would meet your mother, who besides being one of his fashion icons, was one of his first celebrity crushes. All right, you thought this part was a little weird but that wouldn’t stop you from making fun of him about this. Anyway, he would know your older brother, in whom he loved the music and was very anxious to be able to talk about music with him. Harry never felt insecure about his music but today he did. He did because he was afraid that your musician brother would hate his job and decide that he just wasn't suitable for dating you. And believe me, he didn't get it out of his head even though you told him how silly it was. He would also meet your older sister who is one of the most talented models and actress of nowadays and all of this made him very anxious.

To summarize, Harry never thought he could be so nervous just by the thought of meeting the family of one of his girlfriends, but you were different. He didn't think of you as just ''one of his girlfriends'', he thought of you as the right one. Like that person he wants to have a future with, even if he's precocious, that's how he felt. And he didn’t really think of how hard it would be to date the youngest member of one of the most adored celebrity families.

You ran your hand through your hair, tossing it behind your shoulders, so you could get a better look at your boyfriend's face. You turned your back on him and gave a little shrug as you put your arms back and hinted that he would help you take off your blazer, and so he did.

—You know it's bullshit, right? They’ll love you! — The words came out of your mouth gently as you felt Harry's fingers covered in cold rings slide over the skin of your warm arms as he helped you take off your blazer. You could hear a loud sigh coming from him, which makes you turn around to face him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he positioned his hands on your waist causing a slight shiver as you felt his icy rings against your skin.

— Will they? — Harry asked lowering his head to rest it on your exposed neck breathing in the scent of your sweetened perfume thinking to himself how much he loves this scent. He felt pressured, and you actually felt bad for him about feeling like this. You knew your family and you knew they would never in a million years downplay him of you or anything in his life. You gave him a tight hug caressing his back as a form of comforting him.

— They will! They’re not demogorgons, it’s not like they’ll eat you alive! — You’d say in a mocking tone making him break the embrace and look at you with a mocking gaze eliciting a small laugh from you.

— They can! — He’d argue back.

— But they won’t! — You’d say fastly. Looking away from the boy's green eyes to the black SUV that approached both of you. Particularly, you didn't notice if you had any paparazzi intentionally hidden in there. You and Harry were still keeping things low key, because as long as no one knew, it would always be better and easier because there would be no haters and no judgment. This is the point of life; no matter how nice and lovable you are, there will always be someone who will not like you and that’s okay. Later that day, you would find out that there were some paparazzi there when some pictures of you and Harry talking and getting in a car together were published in the media.

The drive to your family's private house was fun. You sang some familiar songs that played on the local radio, captured some lovely pictures of each other which is something that you do frequently; you both usually fill your galleries with photos never before seen, so you can remember incredible moments lived between you. It was a weightless moment, where the two of you were genuinely happy. For a few precious minutes, Harry forgot his nervousness and let him go, let himself go in the sound of you laughter, in the smell of your hair, by the temperature of your covered body near to his body, and he no longer thought about how difficult he thought it would be to meet your family, but those feelings came back hitting him as he felt the car stop on the driveway in front of the immense door of this immense house, which you didn't see the need. It was quite common for you and your family to vacation here but you didn't see the specific need for a massive house like this for five people.

You got out of the car and walked instantly towards the trunk of the car that opened at the driver's command. Harry took the two heavier suitcases out of the trunk while you took out the small suitcase, more like a necessaire you used to bring in your makeup and cosmetic products. You looked at Harry and sighed, sighed in awe as you observed how the muscles in his arms looked extremely more prominent at this point. The way this man has the power to amaze you at any time was different, and he knew it, he knew it very well!

He stands up looking behind you where he could see your mother and your father coming to both of you with big smiles on their faces. He observed how much you looked like your father and just a little bit of your mom, but he also observed that the three of you had the same eye color and the same hair color, actually, all of your family was exactly like this. Almost like twins.

— Darling! — You hear your mother's loud voice and turn around to see her. She was acting like you hadn't seen her two days ago when she invited you to come on this trip and you said you were going to take your boyfriend with you. But anyway, she quickened her pace and when she got close enough to you, she wrapped her arms around you giving you a tight hug. Your father went directly to Harry. He kept a straight and ineligible countenance. Harry wondered if he was about to hug him or if he was about to shoot him for the simple fact that he was dating his youngest daughter. But then, his father smiled and held out his right hand to Harry, who did not hesitate to shake it.

— Mr. Y/L/N, it’s a pleasure to meet you! — His hand was sweaty, that cold sweat of nervousness that made his father laugh out loud. You closed your eyes for a moment remembering precisely that you specifically told Harry to don’t call neither of your parents as ‘’Mr. And Mrs., ’’because as they typically say: ‘’It makes them feel old.’’

— Relax, boy! — He said as he set one of his long arms around Harry's shoulders getting ou a chuckle from Harry as he saw your mother's sweet gaze on him.She then smiled at the boy who was definitely a lot taller than her and then back at you.

— He's as handsome in person as in the pictures you showed me, dear! — She said winking at you, causing you to widen your eyes at her while Harry laughed out loud.

— Mom! — You would say scolding.

— It's okay, Y/N! I know you go around saying I'm handsome and everything! — Harry risked the joke, which made you roll her eyes in a playful way to him.

— Come on, what are you waiting for? Let's take your stuff up there! — Your father said lugging the small suitcase you carried without hesitation.

— Okay, you two take things up there while Y/N and I will go straight to the pool area. — Your mother said and your father just nodded in agreement with her and immediately started walking into the house. Harry widened his eyes at you as a cry for help and you just shrugged your shoulders being practically dragged by your mother's small figure, since you were basically six inches taller than her.

You walked through the extensive pool area with crossed arms. You both walked to a covered part where a broad, round white wooden table was located surrounded by beautiful yellow chairs, not the vibrant yellow but the yellow at sunrise, that calm and serene.

You two sat on the chair and you used your hand to support your face on the table, thus letting your long strands of hair fall to the left side of your shoulder. Your mother took one of her hands to hold the strands of hair in her hands and looked at your face with a tender smile.

— You look happy! You have that happiness glow — She said admiring your face that instantly started to smile just to remember the reason you were so happy, and to remember your happiness had a name, appearance, voice and age.

— I genuinely am! — You said softly trying to contain the smile.

— I'm happy! He looks like a lovely guy, after the last one, I confess that I was worried about it! — Your mother said in a more deep tone and you just tried to expel all thoughts about your ex-boyfriend, it was not even worth remembering that human being, if he can be considered a human being.

— He's... He's the best, mom. — You said softly bringing your hands to your face and then placing your palms on your cheeks holding your smile, even though it seemed impossible — He really is! Harry is so clever, kind, respectful. He's hilarious, you know? Time goes by so fast, I feel light. I forget about worries and focus only on him and I, and at that moment it seems that the rest of the world ceases existing and by god, he was so nervous about coming here today. He was terrified you guys would detest him, and I would just stop liking him.

— Why? But this is so silly! — She said snorting a little, it was even a little bit funny because this has been exactly the same thing that you have been saying to Harry. — You need to make your own choices and we recognize it, we don't always support it, but we know it!

You chuckled a little with the older woman's words. God, how you idolized her. You were always grateful to have such a good relationship with her. This type of relationship that you can arrive and spend hours telling things and will feel unjudged. Everyone should have something like that.

— But where are Y/S/N and Y/B/N? I thought they would come too — You asked about your older siblings as you straightened up in your chair.

—They arrived! They said something about buying some things on the market. I have no idea!— She said taking the glass she held in her hand and taking a sip of the drink. —These children are like this, you know, you generate them, give birth to them, raise them, spend thousands of dollars in schools and then they go out and don't even tell you where they are going. — She said being the usual drama queen and you cannot avoid the laugh that escaped your lips, this woman was simply everything for you.

— All very dramatic, I bet they went to buy things that you should have bought and forgot! — You said raising your eyebrows in a mocking way.

— Okay, okay! You don't value me. I understand! — This was probably one of the most dramatic phrases she had ever said in her life. You then feel a pair of firm hands on your shoulders and automatically tilt your head to look and come across Harry's face. Harry's beautiful, perfectly structured face.

— Hi! — Harry said to bend down to give a light kiss on your forehead. You then looked ahead and saw your father behind your mother.

— We left things in your room. Everything is in there! — Your father said looking at you two. You then got up and stood next to Harry and looked at the older couple.

— I'll go up and take a shower then! I'm dying of heat! — You said — And Hazz, could you come along and take things out of the suitcase? — You said taking your gaze to him who agreed with a soft "sure." You then smiled at your parents, and you walked into the house. You both went up the stairs.

...

It was about 2pm now and you were all reunited att the pool area. Or siblings and their current partners were there too. You two had already showered and switched to more tropical clothes. You were wearing a beige bikini with white polka dots while Harry was wearing a navy blue swim trunks with a single wine red stripe, and believe me, it wasn't long before the two of you were in the pool. You both had dark glasses on your faces to protect you from the sunlight. You and Harry leaned against the edge of the pool without leaving the water. Harry had his back against the edge while you stood in front of him, with your arms around his neck and his hands on your waist while the Carpenters song "Top of the world" played in the background.

You could feel Harry touching the tips of your wet hair on your back as he didn't really listen to the things you said.

— Harry? — You called him trying to get his attention that seemed far away at the moment. Harry put his thoughts aside and stared at you looking a little far away. —You weren't even listening to what I was saying, right? — You said raise your hands to stroke the taller boy's wet hair.

— Sorry, what were you saying? — Harry asked taking off his sunglasses and then bringing his tattooed hand to your face so that he could remove your glasses as well so he could have a clear view of your eyes.

— What did you think? — You asked showing interest in the boy's thoughts.

— In almost everything and in everything. I was thinking that this place is amazing, that your family is really nice and that you are wonderful! — He said in a charming tone with a smirk on his lips as he leaned down to peck your lips.

— So you admit that I was right, and you were wrong? — You asked raising your eyebrows teasing him for his nervousness that had already passed by this time, since he got along so well with his entire family.

— I would say a little bit! — He would speak reluctantly in the form of a joke causing you to snort and slap his shoulder lightly as a joke basically demanding that he tell the truth — Ok, ok I admit! It was stupid nervousness! Do you feel better now, Miss Y/L/N?

— Well... I feel adorable! — You say smiling convincingly.

The rest of the trip was incredible, and you guys agreed on that. You guys did so many fun things. You went on a Jet Ski in Cap-d'Ail which is very close to Monaco. You took a whole day to go from Monaco to Nice by helicopter where you spent the whole day there. You went canyoning and went to the casino. There were days where you just went shopping in Monaco and spent the day enjoying at home, but surely one of your favorite nights was the night where you had a game night where you played UNO, and poker, in general the whole trip it was so much fun and Harry would like every day of his life to be like this, and preferably, for you to be by his side.

#harry and y/n #harry styles and y/n #hwrryscherryXreader #harry x reader #harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine

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ktheist · 4 years

Text

pretty girls don’t get hurt | m

synopsis. your mom has been asking you for a grandchild - not even a son-in-law but the baby to said nonexistent son-in-law! and your dad is hitting an age where he can barely work anymore. at some point you’re going to take over his position as the chairman of the family hospital but you know nothing about medicine. that’s where kim seokjin comes in. he’ll marry you and become the chairman so you can keep your ceo position and you’ll get a child out of him too. it’s like killing two birds with one stone.

except there’s one problem: you’ve never met the man and you need him to agree to the marriage first. okay, make that two problems.

muses. heir!doctor!seokjin x heiress!ceo!reader x best friend!heir!taehyung

words. 15.6k

contents. slowburn. sexual tension. impregnation kink. daddy/older men kink. viagra is involved lmao.

warnings. matured content.

verse. knj. myg. kth. pjm. jjk. jhs. story time.

“you want my what?”

seokjin’s jaw hangs loose, brows coming together in a show of frustrated bewilderment. it’s tells you enough that he heard you the first time but then again, you’re not asking him for dinner. you’re asking him for-

“your hand in marriage.” glossed lips curl upwards underneath the pristine white cup of hot coffee from the vending machine.

you watch as his widened eyes narrow. lips smack together and finally anger settles in the muscles of his hardening expression. “you’re joking.”

it’s understandable that he’d feel offended. even more so when it’s coming from a stranger who strode right into his office and introduced herself as the chairman’s daughter - the ceo. that’s probably the only reason he agreed to spare you his time - and you’re spending it for this.

it’d be a lie if you say you weren’t surprised that he didn’t know the ceo of the hospital he’s working at but judging from the way he treats you, like he has better things to do - lives to save, you know he’s that type of person. the mad scientist version of a doctor. doesn’t attend annual dinners. doesn’t take off days. he’s perfect.

“dad’s getting old and he needs someone to succeed him but i don’t know anything about medicine - i’m more of a businesswoman and the board wants someone of a clinical background to continue the tradition. if it were up to me, medical expenses would be much higher per patient but i’m also not a capitalist so i need someone on the field to tell me how things are at the hospital so we don’t overcharge nor do we undercharge.”

his eye is twitching at the end of your words and his jaw is clenched in suppression of agitation. at this point, you’re going to have to keep it short so not to drop the whole bomb on him before he himself explodes. “so how bout it? you marry me and become the next chairman and i’ll take care of all the non-clinical related matters. if you were to decline... i can’t guarantee things will remain the same after dad retires.”

“my break is over. it’s nice meeting you miss ___ but i hope we don’t run into each other again.” the chair screeches backwards when he stands up abruptly before you can even finish your sentence. he didn’t even check the time when he swipes his phone off the table and slips it right into his pocket. his words are as clear as day: this is the first and last time we meet.

“you still have ten more minutes, doctor kim.” for some reason he hasn’t stormed off - dare you say, he’s even taking what you said seriously - good. because you’re not here for a laugh either. you meet his heated gaze with ease. “i’m not sure you understand but you’re the cinderella and i’m the prince charming.”

you take out a single midnight scented card and slide it over to seokjin. “and this is a proposal, not a blackmail. call me when you’re ready to talk about the terms for the prenup.”

it’s been a week since you left your card with seokjin.

now, sitting in your office, the scene keeps replaying in your mind like a broken record. a scream erupts in the otherwise pleasantly silent room as you slump in your seat, hands digging into your hair as though if you rub your head hard enough, the memories would fade away. “taehyung, how did i even get that confidence? a prenup? he didn’t even say yes!”

the aforementioned man spares you a glance from the couch he’s lying on before going back to typing away on his phone. it’s probably yuju - one of his recent acquaintances. if you remember correctly, she’s the daughter of sbs’ ceo.

“boys are simple minded beings, give it another day and he’ll call you.” he casually assures, this time not even look away from his phone.

the sleek back hair and black button down underneath seokjin’s white coat flashes at the back of your mind. you don’t see that many doctors wearing something that needs ironing to work that often. sure there’s a dress code but your dad isn’t strict about it - all that mattered to him is the quality of one’s work. for all he cares, these doctors can come to work in pj’s. it’s you that had to make sure they don’t come in pj’s. collared t-shirts are acceptable. so are sneakers instead of heeled shoes. but kim seokjin was nothing less of button down, a well made tie and polished black shoes.

it shows that-

“he’s a man, not a boy.”

this time, taehyung’s fingers freeze on the screen before he turns his cheeks to you with an unfazed expression - as though he’d expected this but still got disappointed when he hears it. “so it’s his age? you wanna marry him because he’s nine years older than you?”

there’s something about the way he singles out the reason you decided it was seokjin, that makes you look away in shame. but you still force out a laugh in a last ditch attempt to brush it off but it sounds awkward in every octave. “ha ha ha ha what are you talking about? he’s the most eligible marriage prospect - that’s why.”

“there’s another one.” he points out. still unconvinced, “that suho guy - he’s also a fellow. also an only child-”

you speak over him,“-but his background is so-so. civil servant parents. went to an ordinary school. you think he’ll adapt to the pressure as quick as seokjin?” suho’s smiling picture peeks from underneath the documents you’d been reviewing before the flashback of your bold proposal comes and haunt you. it’s his resume along with every physician working at the hospital for more than eight years, that you’d obtained from your dad’s secretary. “you know whoever becomes my husband and assume the chairman position is gonna get chewed out alive by the board. it has to be him - it has to be seokjin.”

a sigh echoes from somewhere across from you as taehyung sits up, brows furrowed together as he rubs his head as if it’ll make the the problem go away. “yeah, but he left the social scene a decade ago. you think he’ll walk back in just like that?”

“his records have been nothing but remarkable. he sticks around and works overtime. he’s been one of the most consistent physicians that worked on every holidays. doesn’t take off days. basically a workaholic who loves his job way too much - he doesn’t need to enter the social scene. not when i’m his wife.” a grin spreads across your face by the end of it - all this time, you’d been reading the report about him but once you’ve actually put it in words, the chances of him saying yes seems to sound more real, “he’s gonna keep working as the chairman and ignore anything the board says. he’s perfect.”

“yeah, okay let’s say he is perfect and there’s no reason for him to say no except one,” taehyung pauses for a more dramatic effect, lips twitching upwards slyly as if he knows it’s already got you on the edge of your seat, “what if he has a girlfriend he wants to marry?”

and that’s when your world comes crashing down like waves against the rocks but you don’t like the smug look on taehyung’s face, “yeah but with his schedule, it doesn’t seem like he has one.”

“you never know - they could very well be living together. plus, it’s not like he has to report his dating life to the hospital and he seems like a private enough man to keep it on the low even from his colleagues.”

his words are barely registering but the longer the second stretches on with your thoughts running wild, the faster your heart seems to race. but one thing’s for sure. taehyung’s here because you’re supposed to be discussing the partnership.

“if you’re not gonna talk about work, then get out.” your eye visibly twitches - all of a sudden your best friend since you were in diapers’ presence serves more as a nuisance than a blessing.

“you’re mad, aren’t you?” a grin spreads across his lips before he bursts into laughter - he’s the only person that would laugh in the face of death, “man you’re full of ego - i guess you should be. i mean, if all else fails, he might just say yes because of your face, right, sparky?”

he’s using that nickname he used to call you when you were kids. your love - or as taehyung would put it, obsession for shines and sparkles in diamonds peaked at the age of ten thanks to your mom’s hobby of collecting dimes. she’d sold everything off after she got bored of them and needed space for the arts she bought - her new found hobby. but you remained true to your love for diamonds and symbol of riches and bought half of her collection.

over time, he starts using it less and less and only for reasons to get a rise out of you. where did that cute boy who called you sparky because he thought you were as pretty as the diamonds, go?

all he is now is a devil incarnate. with that height and silly grin of his, he easily antagonize you. and you always give in.

“you’re supposed to be on my side and give me assurance!” you toss a balled up paper, aiming right in his face but instead of hitting the mark, he easily catches it.

“how’s this for assurance? you’re only gonna hurt yourself if you throw a ball like that.” he picks his blazer off the handrest and makes a beeline for the door when he senses the smoke coming out of your ears, “i’m late for my date, see you later!”

it’s exactly fifteen hours later that you receive a call from seokjin.

instead of meeting up at the cafeteria, he’d directed you to flower child, one of the most coveted fine dining restaurants in seoul two days after the call. it turns out he’d made a reservation - and you’re no fool to the long waiting line to get a table. he must’ve booked it some time after your first meeting.

he’s made some effort into putting on a black blazer and matching pants. hair styled to perfection. he may have cut his family off but he hasn’t completely abandoned the way he lived up till a decade ago. you allow yourself to check him out once - when he’d stood up at your arrival and pushed the chair for you.

thankfully, you’re not too underdressed. a creme blouse and grey pencil skirt suit any kind of formal setting.

“have you thought about what you want to include in the prenup?” you ask after the server leaves with your order.

seokjin seems more collected this time. or maybe it’s the incense and dimmed lighting that gives off a more suitable atmosphere to talk about marriage.

either way, you don’t expect the man to chuckle - a short, wistful one. as though he truly, honestly believes- “why would you want to marry an old man like me?”

you know what he’s asking: there’s got to be a catch. straightening your back and crossing it over your chest loosely, you decide to come clean - the full truth. “you’re only thirty-four but i won’t lie - you have a price on your head, doctor kim.”

the server comes back with a small cart and a bucket of chilled red wine. you wait until he pours a third of both glasses and goes away. but seokjin doesn’t appear all that eager for your elaboration - it’s almost as though he’s already known. or at least expected that much.

“your mother is willing to pay anyone who marries you a whooping ten million if the lucky bride brings you back to your family.” you watch as he studies the density of the wine, twirling the glass gently with a sort of tilt on his lips like a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “but i won’t make you reconcile with your family. i’ve told you my intentions - i need someone who knows the ins and outs of the hospital since don’t have any clinical background and it’d be easier if we were husband and wife.”

it’s in that moment that seokjin tears his eyes off the wine and captures your gaze. in the absence of the sunlight, those brown eyes appear more black, reflecting the dancing fire on the incense. you feel naked and bare as he wedges his fingers in and tear open the windows to your soul. “don’t you have someone you want to marry, miss___? someone you love?”

taehyung’s silly grin flashes at the back of your mind like a solar flare you can’t erase - all you can do is wait until dies out on its own. you don’t realize your unfocused gaze is directed to seokjin in the split second you wait for your thoughts to gather itself. redirecting your gaze to the wayward reflection in your own glass, you let out a breathy chuckle. “yeah, well.”

it’s pathetic and embarrassing but you can’t even conjure up proper words. instead, you bring the wine to your lips, preferring to taste the bittersweetness of the wine than that of your own reality.

all you talk about for the rest of the night is matters pertaining the marriage. what he’ll have to endure and what he won’t have to endure. he doesn’t need to attend any of the social functions even if you’re married. doesn’t also need to concern himself with matters about his family - it becomes tricky when his family catches news of their only son’s marriage and want to be there for the ceremonious day.

“i don’t know what’s going on with you and your family but they won’t be invited if you don’t want them to be.” you fix him with one of your smiles. a tilt in the corner of your lips and a languid flutter of your eyelids before meeting his gaze. it always works - takes away the essence of the conversation and makes them focus on you so if he wants to throw your words back at you, there’s a leeway you could escape to.

until you couldn’t.

“it’s fine. i’ve been running away for the last few years - it’s time i face them head on.” he looks up from the steak he’s cutting - you still haven’t recover from the time he’d look at you in the eye and effortlessly tore your defenses like it was paper but there he does it again, splaying out your scheme like a dish best served hot, “besides, they won’t be invited but you can’t- no, you won’t stop them from showing up, right?”

it’s true. his family isn’t just any normal family. his father is a ceo of one of the most prominent cell phone companies in the world after all. you’d be invincible if you’re in good terms with your in-laws. or at least, if they think you’re on their side and want to help them get their son back.

but seeing as nothing gets past seokjin, you’re only left to either evade the question or full out deny it to keep your pride intact. either way, both options will only serve to confirm his suspicion - he may already know what you’re up to but verbalizing it is a different kind of pride-crushing. your lips curl into a smile - an irony of having been cornered in every direction from the man you thought you could wrap around your fingers.

but because your pride wouldn’t allow you to look like a fool and your ethics wouldn’t allow you to tell a flat out lie (half truths are alright), you decide the first option is much better. “there’s one more thing - i want to get pregnant within the first year of our marriage.”

or else, you’re going to end up like your parents - their bones weren’t as strong as they used to be by the time they got you and their souls were withered from the works they’d put on in their better years of their lives. your mother’s life was risked by the late pregnancy. still, they tried to love you better but there were things you couldn’t do with parents who were hitting 50 before you even reached high school. you couldn’t go camping or bike riding or fishing like your grandfather brought your father to.

it seems to have caught seokjin off guard when he stares at you with wide eyes a tad longer before dropping his head and chuckling to himself, “my, i don’t know if i still have it in me.”

and that’s how you know he’s messing with you - perhaps it’s his own way of reminding you that he’s too old for you and if he’s lucky, it’ll scare you away from the idea of marriage altogether. but the fact that he’s trying to make you give up means that he’s agreeing to the marriage. you let your lips curve into a smile, adrenaline rushing through your veins and into your very core.

you absolutely can’t wait to get married.

the marriage will be held within five months - it’s the earliest you can get. it’d be suspicious if you just suddenly got married without any scandal or news of dating the estranged only child of the kim family. you’ve already hired a reporter to follow you during your first three ‘dates’ - they may very well be the only dates you go on together judging from your packed schedule. it’s been almost a week since that dinner and you’ve made plans to appear in public together - your first date.

rapping your knuckles on the door, you wait for the light on the handle to turn from red to green - a signal that the owner’s allowed you access. “hey, you ready?” is the first thing you say, even though you know he’s not.

“miss ___, i’m sorry i was working and didn’t realize the time.” he seems to be genuinely apologetic - and there’s an x-ray film and some papers strewn over his desk to verify his claim. “i’ll freshen up and -”

his brows lift in surprise when you lower yourself on his lap just as he pushes the chair backwards to stand up. the usually gelled light brown hair falls over his face in a messy middle part and his button down is less crisped than when you saw him the first time. granted your first meeting with him was at noon - it’s not enough time for the demands of his career to dishevel him. it’s evening now.

his jaw slacks just the slightest bit, resulting for his lips to part - you’ve noticed their plump fullness and it’d be a lie if you said you didn’t wonder about how they’d feel on yours. the taupe acrylic on your thumb digs into the soft pink flesh of his lips before it travels to his chin.

“may i?” two words. and that’s all it takes for something lustrous to take over his eyes. you find yourself smirking when he stares quizzically as your hand leaves his face and brings his own between your lips. his fingerpads are callous from years of surgical training but they don’t tremble under the touch of your tongue. his digits are lengthier than you expect them to be. his middle finger hit the back of your throat easily before you can get them all in but he’s not the only one that’s received training.

you switch to his ring finger, tongue gently curling around it before you drag your teeth over the ridges of its joint. as a finishing touch, you make sure to lick the bottom of your lips all the while holding his gaze. then, you allow the smile to grace your lips as though nothing happened but the way you pretend to struggle to get up, causing your ass to rub against his arousal - defeats that false sense of innocence.

either way, his surprised expression turns to an amused one as he chuckles a low chuckle - an admittance of your victory, “my, i just lost, didn’t it?”

“whatever do you mean?” you blink, lashes fluttering with feigned innocence.

articles are starting to pop up after your personal reporter uploaded hers. it’s not enough to shake the world but it’s enough to catch the eyes of secretaries which in turn tell their bosses and as a result, your phone’s been blowing up and your own secretary has been taking calls since this morning.

“___, you’re leaving already?” taeyeon cups the mouthpiece of the phone she’s been on for the last five minutes, alarms going off in her eyes at the thought of your absence. you don’t blame her - from the way the conversation seems to be going, she might just drag the whole telephone all the way to your desk and make you answer them.

business proposals must be pouring in. you feel bad for your secretary but to be frank, the instant ringing as soon as she held up the last call - has been bothering you to no end as well.

you grin sheepishly, “i got a meeting with dad.” it’s just a coincidence that your dad called you to his office today - he usually does every once in a while just to ask how you’re doing and lament about having to handle your mother’s random burst of hobbies she’s getting into ever since you moved out.

looks like nobody’s noticed the ‘rumor’ yet from the way the workers in the administration department bows and greets you on your way to the office. granted, these people are too devoted to their work to pay attention to the latest business scandals but you expected at least one person to be blowing up the group chat with pictures of you and seokjin’s first date.

there’s a familiar figure leaning against your dad’s desk but no trace of the elder man - he must have went to the washroom or something. you thought it odd when taehyung’s eyes fall on you without the usual grin he would usually offer whenever he sees you - like reflex. at first, you assume his own date with yuju probably didn’t go very well.

“hey, loser. this is the first time you’re here earlier than me.” you fix the man your own grin, happy to be able to see not one but two of your favorite persons. taehyung’s been coming over to play at your house since forever. it was normal for your dad to invite him to his office and take you two to lunch now that you two have grown up.

...until you notice your dad on the couch and another person sitting adjacent to him. it’s easy to miss people when they’re sitting down and easier to have your eyes focus on taehyung’s tall frame.

the tension almost crushes your lungs as soon as you walk through the door. it becomes apparent all too soon that taehyung tried to warn you with his eyes to not be your usual idiot self. now, you’re paying the price for it as all eyes fall on you.

the third person in the room turns his cheek towards you - seokjin. he offers a too polite smile as you come to a stop next to the couch he’s one.

“daddy?” all of a sudden, you’re a child in a room full of adults and calling your out to your dad, as if it would somehow make him explain this situation you just walked in.

the elder man releases a long drawn sigh before speaking, “i’d like a word with my daughter and doctor kim, if you don’t mind, taehyung.”

“sure, uncle.” the aforementioned man offers one of his gallant smiles, pushing himself off the desk without taking out his hands from his pockets.

you grab onto taehyung’s arm as he’s about to pass you - pleading with your eyes for him not to leave you, a mere ant, with the elephants in the room. that’s when his serious facade falls through and he’s grinning at you like a brother would to his sister when he knows she’s going to get in trouble with their parents. your temple throbs with a burst of rage but before you can say anything, he’s already out of the door.

the sweetness of the tea mrs. nam served is tasteless compared to the tangible tension in the air. it’s become apparent that while the more tech savvy staff remain clueless of your updated dating status, your father, is not.

be it as it may, guess you should give credit where it’s due - seokjin’s expression is free of any tautness. it’s perfectly neutral - it’s frightening. you know for a fact you’re not saved from a hard line on your glossed lips and a crease between your brows.

“i heard from my wife that you two are dating.” the elderly man finally breaks the silence.

he’s addressing your mom like that so to make it known that he’s talking to seokjin too - and you’re not the only one in hot water. but seeing as it’s your idea and your proposal, it’s also your responsibility to respond-

“that’s correct, sir.”

-but seokjin beats you to it. it’s not just his expression but his tone is completely at ease. almost as though he’s faced tense situations like this one too many times.

you breathe out before speaking, “i was going to introduce doctor kim to you and mom once we bought our engagement rings.”

your dad finally looks up, eyes wide and mouth slacked for the briefest second before his eyes flutter close. now’s about time for him to be rubbing his temples from the headache but instead, he lets out a sigh. for a split second, you see your dad for the age he is - not the age you remember him as in your earliest memories. wrinkles and smile lines and graying hair.

the seconds stretch on as do the silence. you can hear the distant ringing of the telephone all the way from mrs. nam’s desk from outside, almost clearly.

once your word settles in, then comes the million dollar question, “do you two love each other?”

it’s a no brainer. anyone with eyes can see and answer that for you - or perhaps taehyung already told your dad since he must have gone through a similar interrogation session. and yet, it’s only natural to want confirmation from your own daughter instead of her best friend even though he knows everything about her.

this can only go two ways: yes or no.

but you’ve never been fond of flat out lying, especially to the man who taught you such principles and you’ve talked about marrying for convenience with them ever since you realized that ambitions tend to reward but cheap sentiments like love does not.

yet your chest feels heavy having to go against your parents’ wishes and hopes for you - they want what any parent want for their child. happiness. “no, we don’t.”

“but no one enters into a marriage with divorce in mind. i don’t plan on just being a husband to your daughter just on paper. i’ll care for miss ___ and treat her the way like a queen. that much, i promise, sir.” seokjin holds your dad’s gaze - it’s haunting and charming, you would know. you’d been on the receiving end once too many times already. and you know that’s how he gets your dad.

the older man nods, shoulder line relaxing almost as though he’s been lifted off a dead weight. he’s not the only one - you don’t realize you’ve been holding your breath until you feel your own muscles loosening and you’re breathing out in relief.

until his head snaps up to point out one thing, “you’re getting married yet you’re not on first name basis?”

“sorry to rope you into family drama, i’ll be more prepared next time so you won’t have to leave your work.” is the first thing you say once you’re in the elevator. your dad has made sure to grill you to half-death with his questions. he’s gonna give the immigration a run for their money. the first name basis matter is just the beginning of a series of dread -

‘what’s my daughter’s favorite color?’

‘dad, do you even know my-”

‘shh. do you know my daughter still wets the bed at the age ten?’

‘dad!’

seokjin had taken your dad on in stride. he chuckled when your dad said something ridiculous, borderline false and he listened on when your dad went on about the sob story of a ‘poor father with an undefeatable daughter’. but the way he did it was so effortless - almost as if he was a boyfriend visiting your parents and getting told all the embarrassing stories of your childhood and would tease you about it but at the end of the day, tells you he thinks the kid-you was cute - bed wetter or not.

there’s something that restricts your airway at the thought of sharing a feeling so strong with someone. in no time, you push the intimate image away. you and seokjin aren’t like that - this is marriage is strictly convenience-based.

“i asked a friend of mine to cover for me.” so he knew it’d be long but he didn’t actually said it was okay either. marriage is a tricky subject especially for someone as work-crazed as seokjin. you’re surprised he hasn’t cursed you out for making him miss work. “is it red?”

“what?” you blink, steps halting as you stare up at him with what starts to be mindless curiosity but ends up with a stretched on pause as you study the man’s visage. the plumpness of his lips is a given- it’s the first thing you noticed about him.

“your favorite color.” the corners of his lips lifts upwards before he includes his assertion, “you’re always wearing something red - your lipstick was red when we went for dinner. you have a red blouse on now.”

even you didn’t know you have so much red. but it’s true - your functions and meetings wardrobe consists of red and black predominantly besides the more neutral pastel colors. you have a higher success rate of getting sponsors when you wear the tight fitted red dress.

but it’s not a preferred shade per se.

“no,” you chuckle, “my favorite color is yellow, like the banana.”

seokjin’s brows rises at that. he probably didn’t expect that - nobody expects the fierce and confident woman to like such a bright, clarifying color. “though i understand why you think it’s red.”

his lips curl into a smile - the kind of smile that mimics your own, not the one that he wears to charm your father. though that one was also genuine, this one makes him feel younger. like someone you can crack silly jokes with instead of the ever uptight working man.

before he manages to say anything, your name reverberates across the lobby. taehyung’s shrugged off that ugly grey checkered blazer of his and left it at the sofa as he mini run towards you. the grin on his face gradually falls off when he notices the lack of smile on your face.

“you left me for dead!”

he blocks your fist with a hand around your wrist before sighing as if you’re not just directing every ounce of energy in that punch of yours - but then again, none of your smacks really get to him.

“i didn’t know uncle was gonna ask me about that - i thought it was gonna be the usual lunch. i mean, come on, i waited for you down here even though i have work to do so i can make sure all your limbs are intact!” he looks like he almost meant it. almost.

it’s in that moment that seokjin’s remark reminds you that he’s still there, “you two must be close.”

“huh?” taehyung narrows his eye at you as though you’re no more than gum under his shoes while you whip your hand out of his grasp and scoff.

“nah, i’m her only friend.”

“it’s because he doesn’t have any other friend.”

you both say at the same time.

at least seokjin’s still able to laugh with all the intention-to-kill in the air. before you can elaborate on how taehyung kept following you around like a lost puppy when you were younger, seokjin’s hand finds its way around your shoulder, you thought it odd that he needs to pat on the shoulder farthest from him but it turns out he’s pulling you towards him but by the time you realize it, you’re already craning your neck to look at him. but you barely notice the awkward position of his lips on the spot just above your left eyebrow - his lips really are soft. and warm.

and gone.

before you know it, he’s pulling away, saying something about seeing you later - you couldn’t hear it from the blood rushing in your ears and the heat rising on your face. it’s only after you see his white coat disappear around the corner do you finally take notice of the slyly grinning fox in front of you.

“what did i tell you? simple-minded beings.”

you still don’t know why seokjin kissed you on the forehead.

sure, he told your dad he’s not planning to just be a husband on paper - okay. but he’s nowhere near a husband to you yet and you haven’t even given him an engagement ring. it doesn’t help that your heart keeps racing every time time the image of his sharp jaw and pursed lips before he kissed you, plays at the back of your mind.

he smelled good too - like aftershave and lemon and a hint of disinfectants.

before you know it, you find yourself rapping on his door eight minutes past 7 in the evening. after a whole solid minute of the red light on the door handle remaining the same color, you finally let out the breath you’ve been holding. it’s supposed to be past his shift but judging from the lack of response from the other side of the room, you know straight away that he’s still at the wards. it may have been an impromptus decision but now that you’ve walked the distance from your office to the other end of the building, you might as well go the extra mile and actually look for him.

most of the nurses and doctors that pass you recognize you, bowing briefly before hurrying to where they were heading before they saw you. you rarely visit the cardiology department - or any other department for that matter because it’s always a hassle for the staff to prepare to greet you. in that aspect, you agree with seokjin - that they could be doing something better than pushing their schedules on their colleague to accompany a sightseeing vip.

“miss ___?” a young man around your age calls, his brows furrow at the idea that his eyes could be fooling him but when you turn to him, his eyes light up in pleasant surprise, “it really is you. why - i didn’t know you were visiting today.”

“doctor kim,” you don’t forget a face easily - right before you is kim suho. the smile that stretches when you recognize him is telling enough. his past achievements are definitely to brag about and he must have attended the annual dinner if he recognizes you, “good evening. this isn’t an official visit - actually, i’m looking for someone. do you happen to know where doctor kim seokjin is?”

“seokjin?” he repeats the name with a sort of familiarity, coupled with confusion. of course, he’s probably wondering what the work-crazed doctor did to have the ceo come all the way to the wards.

“miss ___?” it’s feels almost deja vu - having your names called out by two different people within the span of five minutes. both sounding equally confused but for different reasons.

“good evening,” you fix seokjin one of your alluring smiles, heart skipping a beat - it’s probably the stethoscope hanging over his shoulder. it compliments the collared button down and white coat, look you usually see him in, “i went to you office but you weren’t there so i came here.”

“let’s talk in my office.” he clears his throat, eyes drifting to look to somewhere on his left before he stops himself. if it’s the whispering nurses at the counter he’s worried about - he shouldn’t be. because you’re about to put a ring on it.

“sorry, i was doing my last rounds but the patient was a chatty one - i lost track of time.” he says, walking into the office and setting the stethoscope down on his desk before he takes a seat behind it.

you notice the way his eyes travel from your perfectly pinned up hair down to your diamonds adorned neck down to the halter strap of your elegant maroon dress that wraps around your body flawlessly. but he doesn’t say a word - and you’re forced to school your expression to not show your surprise and hurt when he doesn’t even let his gaze linger for any longer than necessary as he meets your eyes again.

you take out the suede velvet box from your purse and place it right in front of him. “it just came in, why don’t you try putting it on?”

his eyes twinkle with a surprise not because of the foretelling shape and characteristics of the box, nor the affirmation of the silver band inside it but because it sits snugly around his ring finger when he slips it on.

“how did you get my size right?” the impressed tone laced in his voice makes your chest swell with pride and lips curl into a smirk.

it only takes him a few seconds to interpret your smirk - that time in his office. the ghost of his digit on your tongue still lingers. it wasn’t just for show and you weren’t cruel enough to put a man through that misery if you didn’t have your own reasons.

he shakes his head, ring bluntly glinting as suppresses his chuckle with his hand.

your heart is beating too loudly in your chest - there’s something in the way he’s bearing your claim but you still manage to sound leveled and collected. “since we’re officially engaged, do you mind if i call you seokjin?”

“i’d like that very much, ___.” he’s finally dropped the suffix. ms. this, ms. that. you’ve gotten used to it but it serves to enforce the invisible line between you and him when he addresses you so formally.

your phone buzzes in your purse - it must be taehyung. you didn’t expect to spend longer than ten minutes but he must be waiting at the lobby if he’s texting you now. standing up, you bid him a parting “have a nice evening, seokjin.”

he doesn’t seem like he has anything on his mind but just as your hand covers the handle of the door, he speaks up, “once we’re married, could you refrain from going to these functions?”

it takes you off guard. like a spear that pierces you just as you lay down your armor but you’re not one to let something like this get to you, “i’m afraid that’s not possible.” and that’s it. it’s final.

but you should have known when you decide to use that practiced icy tone, that seokjin wouldn’t just back off the way almost everyone would. the only people who would still have the gal to say something or dismiss it are your parents and taehyung.

“i know you expect me to be an obedient husband and become chairman and do my job. it shouldn’t matter if you attend these functions since you’re not forcing me to go with you.” and there’s those eyes again. tearing into the soul of your window and stripping you bare the way only kim seokjin could. “but marriage is about compromise - giving up one thing for the other. i’m gonna inherit my dad’s fortunes and you’re gonna get that 10 million my mom promised. shouldn’t that be enough to get the projects for the hospital rolling?"

when he says it like that, it seems so easy and simple. “no wonder you’re a doctor. you don’t know a thing about maintaining a sustainable business.” you let your lips curl briefly, “but i’ll think about what you said.”

then, you’re out of his office. heels clicking against the floor as you make your way to the lobby and into taehyung’s familiar sleek black burgatti.

“so he asked you to stop coming to these functions.” the car rolls to a stop right in front of the hall where the birthday party of seollyu’s president is held.

“in essence, yeah.” you say after he comes around the car and your hand automatically tucks itself in the crook of his arm.

“then why are you mad?” the car purrs behind you before the valet takes it somewhere to park it.

some of the reporters at the entrance calls your and taehyung’s names in an attempt to make you look at the camera. there’s too many and the lights are blinding - you just want to get into the hall quickly. at least they won’t be able to follow you past the doors.

“i just - i don’t like that he’s asking me to change, you know? just because i’m married, i won’t get to do the things i usually do before? that’s just bullshit.” you huff in frustration - not bothering to hide your stiff eyebrows and slightly pursed lips all the while you have your pictures taken. at best, they’re going to slander you with jealousy over taehyung’s new budding romance.

“i mean, he did cut his family off and stopped going to these things.” the man shrugs, “maybe he has a good reason - did you even ask him why?”

and that’s how you know you’ve lost the fight. taehyung’s too sensible - naturally, he wouldn’t have his own startup at such a young age, if he isn’t the way he is now. but you don’t want an analyst - you want a friend who would listen to you and let you vent your frustrations before finding the root of the problem and suggesting the solution.

taehyung knows this and he knows plenty of many things, having been your childhood and best friend all in one package. but because he knows you too well, he also knows you’ll end up doing something you would regret if he were too late to point out your mistake. sometimes you want to prove him wrong - that you can call the right shots when it comes to people without having him paint a picture for you to foresee the outcome but so far, there’s limited exhibits of your success. your failed past relationships being the prime examples.

“i hate it when you’re right.” you grumble, letting your hand fall to your side - usually you wouldn’t mind having to cling onto taehyung like a child. you’re all the other has in these functions - everyone has their own reason for attending and just like absolutely everyone, you approach people because of what they can give you. that’s why you see groups of people your age flocking together - they grew up trained to sniff those with ill intentions and those with a mutual interest.

and usually, they’ve known each other at a very young age - the way you knew taehyung for as long as you can remember.

you have other friends too - or rather, they’re people you single out to be of no threat to your business and could even become partners someday. like sowon - her bright amber dress making it seem as though a ball of fire is flitting across the hall. you’re about to wave at her before you notice a more furious fire burns in her eyes.

“you bitch!”

all of a sudden, your neck is craned in an awkward angle. the blaze on your cheek settles a little later than the realization that sowon just smacked you right across the face yet when you turn back to her, hands clenching and unclenching in suppression of rising anger - she’s the one with tears in her eyes. “i trusted you.”

oh boy.

the host hasn’t even made his speech and the crowd’s already excited. the widespread whispers don’t go past you - some of the people in your periphery doesn’t even bother hiding leaning into the person next to them while stealing glances your way. but you doubt the woman in front of you would notice anyone here but you.

“ladies, there’s plenty of me to go around.” taehyung speaks from next to you, his smooth baritone echoing off and reaching anyone within five feet. you know he’s doing this to cover for any other possible misunderstanding - after all, this isn’t the first time you’re trapped in a scandal between taehyung and one of his girlfriends.

sowon loathes taehyung though.

but it doesn’t matter as long as everyone thinks it’s just another day of you getting in between the budding romance of taehyung and his female acquaintance. you can already see the expressions of the guests falling - probably disappointed at the not-so-news news. but there are also those who snicker underneath their breath - probably one of taehyung’s past acquaintances. it’s no secret taehyung would choose you over them in a heartbeat - and it’s been established when taehyung appears at a function with another woman once and appear to the next five with you until a new poor soul takes that woman’s place.

what can you say? your best friend’s a charmer. but the downside is, you don’t have that many female friends at functions. and one of the few you do have, you’ve managed to piss off.

sowon’s sniffle tears your attention away from the crowd. flushed cheeks and puffed eyes. you’re not close but you’re acquainted enough to know she’s a woman of pride and confidence. she wouldn’t lose her cool over a man - well, at least not a licentious man like taehyung. and that’s the only reason keeping you from bitch slapping the pride off her. the sting on your cheek is nothing compared to the injury your pride sustains - all because what’s left of your conscience wouldn’t allow you to return the slap.

deep down, you know you deserved it and more. your insides churn painfully. all of a sudden the dress around your body is two sizes too small. it’s suffocating - the whole room is suffocating.

“after everything i told you - you had to go for him?!” her scream could almost burst your eardrums if it isn’t for the blood rushing in your ears.

it’s easy to think she’s referring to taehyung. somewhere from across the room, the crowd starts clearing out a path - looks like the host has caught wind of the commotion sowon has caused.

you want to curse her too. hurt her with words as much as she hurt you with her physical assault. but instead you find yourself dropping your gaze.

“i’m sorry, sowon.” is all you say before mr. jung and his army of secretaries approach you and bring you two to different rooms. by the time dinner starts, sowon isn’t around - it’s understandable, her pride wouldn’t allow her to let these people poke fun at her.

but you don’t survive this world you’re born in by running away - you survive it by developing skin as untouchable as scales. so you stay until desert, smiling with a sore cheek and conversing with those who you know would be neutral about the incident, like nothing happened.

taehyung sticks closer to you. he doesn’t ask if you’re okay - you’re not. but when you tug on his sleeve and timidly murmur you wish to go home, he does so without hesitation. it’s times like these you’d choose him over the world.

the tabloids love gossip. a sensational, popcorn-worthy scoop. there are two divided groups thanks to that. the first one is devoted to the belief that it’s a love triangle between you, taehyung and sowon. the other one, choosing to dig deeper than what’s on the surface, believes it goes way back. ten years back.

“sorry, i should have told you sowon was my ex-fiance - it didn’t occur to me until i saw the articles that you two might meet at a function.” seokjin finally says, the strawberry ice cream beginning to melt in its paper bowl when he asked you to ‘at least, let me cure your injury,’ - you didn’t, in a - make that ten - million years picture it to be in a form of an ice cream bowl he bought from the mini convenience store next to the cafeteria. it was to hold it on your cheek but you couldn’t just let good food go to waste.

it hurts to even smile but you can’t help it at the thought of the rumored half-mad doctor using his break for something besides working some more. coupled with a shake of your head and the plastic spoon trapped in between your lips, you look just as insane.

your heart still clenches at the recollection of the other night, “i knew you two were engaged.”

his shoulder line straightens just the slightest bit as he lifts one eyebrow, not completely surprised but neither is he unfazed. so you continue, “it was by pure dumb luck that you turn out to be the best marriage prospect for me but i thought she was over it since it’s been years.”

there it is again, the churning in your stomach. like something’s eating you from the inside. if you focus enough, you can hear the voice inside your head scoffing - even if they’d just broken up yesterday, you still would have proposed to seokjin, maybe even the day after said break up.

this time, you don’t look away when his eyes meet yours. you let him strip your armor down to your very core. show him just what kind of person you are - the person who wouldn’t let anything get in the way of her ambitions. wouldn’t dwell cheap sentiments like friendship. even if that made you - as sowon would put it - a bitch.

then, he lets out a heavy sigh - the kind of sigh a parent would do when their kid got in trouble and admitted their fault. so now he can’t lecture you on morals and ethics because you have your own principles.

if anything, it reminds you of the glaring difference in your age - the things he’s already experienced that you’re about to someday. the betrayals. the broken friendships. the choices between what you want and what you need. he’s probably seen this all before.

“is an old man like me really worth all that trouble?” the tiniest of smile graces his strong feature. eyebrows wavering with something you can’t pinpoint.

“well, there’s a doctor - kim suho.” this time, you don’t bother pointing out his not-even-that-old age. the way his eye twitches barely noticeably tells you he doesn’t expect your answer. a moment later, it becomes too apparent, from his troubled expression - brows stiffed and jaws tight, that he doesn’t like the idea of you asking for another man’s hand in marriage. you have to tell yourself to refrain from smiling, not because your cheek might hurt again but because it’s probably not a good time to tease him.

deciding to release him from his own misery, you quickly elaborate, “but he has an average background - no matter how much experience he has, you don’t just get on your knees and start slithering with the snakes. you have to be born into the family. so yes,” you place your ice cream on the coffee table, hand pushing back a strand of hair to appear more delicate and win his favor while you let a furtive smile adorn your face - and there’s a smile he’s suppressing too because he knows what you’re trying to do, “this old man is definitely worth it.”

his shoulder line seems to ease up as he tries to hide a relieved sigh by clearing his throat. but it’s short lived when the crease between his brows returns and a newfound tension settles in space on the couch separating the two of you, “yes, but suho was never the one i should be on a look out for, was he?”

you blink but he’s already shaking his head. a smile on his face, “never mind.”

things seem to settle down - everyone at the hospital knows about you and seokjin now. and you’ve managed to convince him to finally use his off days to spend it on preparing for the wedding. cake tasting. dress and suit fitting. deciding on what color the napkins should be - a month ago, you approached seokjin with the mindset to make him agree to marry you. after all, prince charming was the one who had it all - it didn’t make sense to have cinderella do all the wedding planning.

he was mad at you for some reason - it lasted for quite awhile until you directly asked why he’d been given you the cold shoulders. “you keep playing a two man game by yourself.” he sighed when he said those words - because he saw in your eyes, that you thought there was nothing wrong to be finishing what you started by yourself, “we’re getting married - we’re gonna become a team yet you keep making decisions by yourself.”

ever since then, you started asking if he wanted to join you to the cake and dessert tasting, napkin color picking. you didn’t realize how nice it was to do things with another person than decide it on your own.

and somewhere along the way, you started teasing him more.

“if the saying ‘men age like fine wine’ is a person,” a grin slips over your face as you shamelessly give seokjin is a once over, “then you’d be the embodiment of that.”

he doesn’t seem to mind - rather, he seems like he’s enjoying the attention as he chuckles and shakes his head. probably thinking there’s no saving you and your compliments now.

“come here.” it’s the way he says it - with a smile on his lips and eyes that says you’re all he sees and hand extended to capture yours, that makes you jump from your seat. the front of the dress bunched up in your hands as to not trip over it and right into his arms. just like moth drawn to flames.

he pulls you up over the platform that he’s been standing on and lets you stand in front of him, hand on your shoulder as you stare in front of the 3 part mirror in the boutique. the dress you have on is a light gold dress with a sweetheart neckline that wraps around your curves flawlessly down to your knees and flow out like a mermaid’s tail. seokjin has on a traditional cobalt blue single breasted suit with three buttons fitting around his waist perfectly. his hair is gelled back the way you specifically requested.

he gave you a quizzical look as though wanting you to elaborate on your reason for that request but you’d only left him with a kiss on the cheek and a ‘see you on monday.’

if there’s one thing you learned about seokjin, it’s that he’s devastatingly unaware of his strong features that makes every woman’s legs turn to jelly and every man’s heart skip a beat. and he chooses to hide it under that usual middle parted style.

seokjin’s reflection bends down but his eyes remains on you as he whispers against the shell of your ears, “you look exquisite.”

you have half the mind to push him off and run away in case he’d ear the erratic beating in your chest but he probably already knows from the way you shyly look away. the you from a year ago would laugh at what you’ve become - the kind of girl that gets flustered and can’t form a proper sentence in the presence of a male. but before you can respond, a boisterous voice from the sofa you were sitting at, announces, “alright, next!”

your teeth clench together as you whirl around to face taehyung’s silly grin. that cockblocker - he knew you were having a moment and went out of his way to ruin it. “what are you even here for? don’t you have something better to do?”

for once, taehyung isn’t on his phone. you wouldn’t mind it so much if he’d just ignore you half of the time whenever you hang out. “your mom tasked me to find you a perfect dress since she can’t be here.” there’s a glint in his eyes - something ratchet and devious but his lips curve like that of an angel.

you don’t miss seokjin’s tightened jaw and stiff shoulder line as he helps you down the platform. ever since taehyung showed up ten minutes into fitting, seokjin’s expression has been switching from that suave smile to looking like he has a splinter stuck in his thumb - a human sized splinter that goes by the name of kim taehyung.

you never thought you’d live to see the day when kim seokjin would harbor any sort of animosity towards someone - he’s probably a strict supervisor, but resentful? can’t be.

you chalk it up with the plain fact that anyone who’s not head over heels for taehyung would want to skin him alive on the early stages of getting to know him.

“hm? seokjin’s not here yet?” you ask once you’re back from the fitting room, having slipped into an ivory trumpet shaped dress. it’s a much simpler design compared to the one you had on which makes it a perfect counter part for the after party. “that’s a first, the lady finishing first than the guy.”

“oh, it’s not that unusual.” taehyung snickers. guess that just shows how confident he is with his skills.

“i’ve never been this tired and i’ve only tried on three dresses.” instead of entertaining his remark, you choose plop down next to him.

“sparky, does he love you?” it’s that nickname that gets you.

there are only two circumstances where he would call you that: one, when he wants to annoy you and two, when he’s feeling nostalgic. guess it’s finally hitting him that you’re no longer kids chasing each other around in one of his mansions. you’re both grown up and one is trying out wedding gowns.

“uh, me and seokjin are about to get married, taetae.” you throw in a nickname of your own just to lighten up the mood.

but all it does is lift the corners of his lips into a wistful smile. and that’s how you know you can’t be telling your half-truths. and evading his question isn’t working all that well either. “it feels like we can talk about things more openly now - but no, i don’t think he does. he’s marrying me to become the next chairman and i’m after his money and maybe get a kid out of him too.” a knot forms in your stomach - something about what you said doesn’t sit well with you but this is what you wanted. this is what you prepared for the moment you decided to ask seokjin for his hand in marriage. you shouldn’t hope for more.

the laugh taehyung lets out is reactionary. humorless. “can’t you wait for me? i know i’m in no position to ask - but can’t you?”

two years and three months ago, when you were a little youthful, had a little more stars in your eyes - maybe you would’ve said yes in a heartbeat. with every birthday you celebrate, fear rears its ugly head and reminds you that time isn’t an illusion and you know better than to bet on something - someone you're not sure you can win.

your heart aches a similar way it did two years ago - but you know now it’s not because it’s breaking to pieces. instead it’s hurting for the pieces of that young boy you could never hope to complete using yours. it took awhile but you know how to get back on your feet - but it’s not all that simple for taehyung. only he can fix his broken pieces.

“i stopped, taehyung,” you finally say, gaze burning holes inside the lace material of the dress, “the moment you told me you can’t - i stopped loving you. i’m glad i did because it wasn’t love. i was just scared to lose you like you’re afraid to lose me now,” you tug on his hand to get him to look at you and he does - all of a sudden, you’re both eight, inside your own bedroom with your dolls and his remote control cars strewn across the floor, “but you’ll always be my taetae and i’ll always be your sparky - i’m always gonna be here for you.”

you thought he’d changed. it’s nice to know he still uses a fruit scented shower gel when he brings you into a hug. the piercing sweet scent isn’t as strong as you remember it. the hug lasts a bit longer and his body is trembling slightly but you know it’s going to be okay - even if he packs up and leave for a foreign city like two years ago when you told him you loved him and you had to hunt him down through your wits and will (that damned private investigator accumulated a fortune to last him for probably ten years). at the end of the day, you’ll come back to each other. because the bond you’ve formed is thicker than the blood coursing through your veins.

“if he makes you cry, you come to me, okay?” you can’t even be mad when he ruffles your hair before picking up his blazer and shrugging it on. by the end of it, you’re both smiling - though his remains wistful, yours is sanguine.

it’s only after taehyung’s figure disappears through the door, do you notice the feeling of a pair of eyes burning holes inside your head.

“seokjin.”

the man is leaning against the door where his changing room is. you don’t need to ask why his brows are strained and the lips that would usually grace you with a smile, is pressed into a tight line.

“i never knew-” seokjin stops himself, lips pressed together as though he doesn’t want to say it, but he does with a shake of his head, “-no, i did know there was something between you and taehyung.”

you end up in seokjin’s apartment. the whole ride has been stiff silent. it’s the first you’ve seen him so disheveled. his tie hangs loose on his neck as though he’d yanked it without a care in the world and forgot about it. the first two buttons of his button down are undone. what once was his perfectly sleeked back hair disheveled from having been mussed up.

the hot chocolate seokjin made you is losing heat the longer you hold onto to it for the sake of having something to do with your hands. “i proposed to him two years ago and stopped loving him as soon as he turned me down - taehyung, he... he’s got a lot going on. that’s all i can say. i hope you don’t misunderstand what you saw.”

his eyes turn as round as saucers for the briefest moment before they flutter to their original almond shapes. shoulder line shaking from chuckling - but there’s nothing funny about any of this so you keep your eyes on him. if he needed confirmation of the truth you’re speaking, he need only search it in the windows of your soul.

“that’s very like you, ___.” he finally says.

you’re not sure what he meant but you’re not about to ponder on it either, “is there anything else you’d like to know about me, seokjin? there’s no reason for me to lie to you - we’re about to get stuck with each other for the rest of our lives. we should at least be able to talk about our past openly.”

when he doesn’t seem to have any other inquiry, you decide to let go of your pride - the reason you never asked was because you were too proud to be wrong. growing up, there were only a few people that you let poke fun at you and fewer you’d let prove you wrong. it dawned on you some time after you’re all showered and ready to go to bed one night - that you’re about to let seokjin waltz into your life and he’ll bear witness to your most intimate side. he’s about to be said one of the fewer people.

“then, my turn - why did you want me to stop attending social functions? i’ve been doing it my whole life - i’m good at it. and i’m not planning to stop just because i got married unless you have a proper reason for asking me to.”

the way his gaze drops tells you it wasn’t just a baseless request. you reach out across the counter, slipping your hands into his. that seems to have brought him back.

“my parents chose to attend a function instead of staying by my grandfather’s side even when the doctor told them he wouldn’t make it til morning - they weren’t even sorry. couldn’t even stay throughout the whole funeral.” he shakes his head almost as though being hung up over it was ridiculous yet couldn’t move past it either, “it’s ugly what too much wealth does - i just- i’m sorry i asked such a thing from you. it’s my own problem that i have to deal with, you don’t have to stop.”

it’s not hard to put yourself in his shoes. you understand where he’s coming from - you want to tell him that but somehow words are cheap. especially right in this moment.

so without thinking, you slip off the stool and walk around the counter until you reach him. the last thing you see before you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down to your level, is his wondrous gaze.

the man doesn’t flinch away from your touch nor does he welcome it in any way. but the longer the seconds stretch on, the more you realize how idiotic and awkward it is to hug someone you barely know - it worked for taehyung but that’s only because he knew you preferred action rather than words.

“i’m not gonna stop completely but i won’t go as often - it’s getting boring anyway.” you nonchalantly say - or at least try to sound like you’ve lost interest in the function on your own. you haven’t been to any since that incident with sowon, waiting out for the rumors to die down is a better choice.

the body in your arms is unresponsive as ever - you would think you’re hugging a dead body if not for the heat of his breath fanning your delicate skin. maybe he’s just too nice to push a lady away. just as you’re about retract your arms, a warm hand rests on your hip. his touch is soft and gentle - as if he’s handling a porcelain doll while you’d just dragged him down to you without even considering how uncomfortable the angle would be given his tall broad frame.

his body vibrates when he lets out a short breath like a brief chuckle, “you’re very generous with your hugs.”

your brain short circuits when the man raises his head from your shoulder and rests his forehead on yours - it reminds you of how woman you are. even when he’s sitting he still hovers over you. his free hand cups your jaw, thumb lightly pressing on your lower lip. so this is what it felt like when your roles were switched - is he going to give you a false sense that he’ll kiss you the way you would him?

“may i?” he’s smiling when he repeats your own words - eyes trapping the ray of sunlight that pours over the wall-window like an illuminate waterfall. for the first time since you know him, you’re scared. not of what he will do but of what you want him to - but he won’t do.

your train of thoughts dissipates along with your worry the moment his lips touch yours. gentle. yet the hand pulling you into him is possessive. something in your stomach churns with butterflies.

you want to say you don’t know how you end up with your stomach pressed against his crotch or how his semi-hard arousal started rubbing into your abdomen. it’s supposed to be awkward but it isn’t and you know he’s refraining from addressing his aroused state to avoid making it uncomfortable for you - even though every time you shift and lean into him, you see his the gentle bob of his adam’s apple. it makes you want him even more. he leans into your touch as soon as you reach for him like moth drawn to flames.

“right.” he declares as if he’s been reminded of something when he comes in contact with one of the ridge of the rock on your middle finger. it’s your own engagement ring you ordered with seokjin’s. when the man spoke about getting you one, you’d held up your left hand and told him you already had one made. in fact, you never took it off since the day you put it on - which was the same day it came it.

understandably, you’re always wearing more than a ring on your hand - it’s easy to mix up between the ring from your personal collection or a ring of promise. especially when you didn’t tell him you got one made for yourself.

the hand on your cheek is warm as it brushes against your cheekbones, your rolls off his tongue like sweet honey, “what did i ever do to make you think i don’t love you?”

you blink once. you heard his words but your mind isn��t registering anything. but it seems your heart has seem to figure it out from the way it’s accelerating, you’re afraid seokjin might hear it. “wh-what?”

all of a sudden, you have this urge to pull the invisible blinds of his wall-window and hide from the peering rays of the sun. seokjin’s airy gaze. your fallen dress strap. the gentle protrusion in his pants. your own mussed up hair - you want to keep this moment all to yourself.

he pecks your forehead one last time. this lips curling into a smile - he knows you heard him. loud and clear and you have a feeling you’ll be hearing it at the most unpredictable moment from now on. so there’s no rush.

“where should we go for dinner?”

seokjin knows they call him the doctor version of a mad scientist. he knows a plenty of many things. like how he’s more strict with the junior physicians under his care. but that’s only because if he treats them below their potential, they’ll end up being that.

but the part where suho jokingly told him that he was crazy for working on holidays - maybe he was.

he’d moved out as soon as he turned 18 and eventually cut off his parents. before, even if it was just for show, he still got to see them during those functions they held.

but by the time he graduated college and started interning as a doctor - he was already erasing part of his existence. and his parents didn’t seem to notice. it made it cutting them off effortless.

but then, loneliness - pure, unadulterated loneliness started to sink its claws into him. so he turned to work even more. built his life around it.

by the time he became a fellow, he had absolutely zero social life. the only human interaction he had was with his patients - but they come and go. sure they’re grateful for him - and since the private hospital he’s working at is frequented mostly by the richest, he’d received gifts like cars or gold bars from one of his elderly patients who were convinced they were going to die - until they woke up from a successful surgery done by seokjin himself. but they eventually forget him.

and of course, he returned those gifts. he’d be no different than his parents - than the people he wished not to see anymore after he left that world. but the one thing he thought he wanted - the one thing he thought would make him happy, started to burn him out. every birthday was just a reminder that he’s half the age his soul is.

he’s worn and tired and losing sight of that man he told himself to be by a certain age.

that is, until you came along. at first, it was just courtesy that he listened to what you had to say - apparently you were the ceo. and quite literally, his boss. at first, he thought you were messing with him when you asked for his hand in marriage - no one just waltzes in and propose to someone they don’t know.

even those convenient marriages don’t go this way. but he’d accepted it anyway.

it has more to do with those eyes of yours than the chairman position. those eyes - they remind him so much of himself. the current him. except where his soul wanes, yours thirsts to thrive. like a dying cactus refusing to dry out.

you had thorns but picking them out wasn’t a problem - you’d been disconcerted at first but you’d quickly learn to use it to your advantage. telling him only the truth or nothing. since evasion and half-truths don’t work on him the way they would work on the people you probably surrounded yourself with. and he knew exactly what type of people they were.

eventually, you started telling him the blunt, honest truth. it threw him off a few times - like when you’d straight out told him that you knew who sowon was and still went for him. and that time when you admitted that he was the second man to receive your proposal - the first being that brat, taehyung. and then, you’d straight out asked him about why he didn’t want you attending functions anymore instead of ignoring his request like his parents would. or flip out of shame for having your lie found out. you were forbearing but firm. sometimes, it felt like you were much older than him.

but then you had a childish side to you too - it was food for his soul. every time he was with you, he felt like himself again. like that boy who applied for a job at the hospital with only his wits and his will backing him up. at first, he’d only saw that side of you in front of your most treasured people. your father. your mother. taehyung.

what you and taehyung have - seokjin will never come close to comprehend. a bond so strong, not even death could tear you apart. it became apparent too soon to seokjin that taehyung dominated parts of your life and he’ll only have a but a crevice of his presence in yours. your smile would always be a little brighter when you’re with the younger man. eyes always drifting away from him to taehyung.

and he was content with that but he thinks you’ve changed. or maybe it’s him that did. because you’re grinning at him now - like there’s something up your sleeves. and there is - his eyes widen at your brazenness. one minute he was admiring the way you lasted for hours in those heels that you just kicked off - you’d been wearing them starting from the ceremony to the reception and finally the after party but the next minute, you were grinning and pulling him with you down onto the velvet sheets. the your dress has ridden up to just below your knees in the process and seokjin’s caressing your exposed calf - he thinks you’re all the more delicate. your skin, too soft. he’s afraid he might bruise you.

“oh,” you speak into his mouth before pulling away without even a peck on his lips - but there’s a twinkle in your eyes when you pick up a small golden box that sat prettily on the night stand, “almost forgot. for you.”

“i didn’t get you a wedding gift.” he announces, pushing down the suspicion dominating his brain but how can he not pull out the ribbon to find out what you’ve prepared for him, when you’re looking at him like that? all grin and proud and saying something like you didn’t need one.

then his face falls and he’s looking at you deadpanned in the eye after noting the too familiar tablet of blue pills. but the frown doesn’t live long - he finds himself shaking his head. a smile wedging itself on his own face, “viagra. really?”

“better safe than sorry, right?” it's not right context - usually, a condom would be involved where that sentenced is used. but you know from seokjin’s dazed stare that he doesn’t get it - but he chooses to admire your features instead.

it takes everything in you not to bury your face in his chest just because his stare is making you feel like a high school girl with a crush. his eyes don’t make you want to reel away from him and cover every scar and lies with a thick blanket anymore. perhaps it has something to do with the fact that there isn’t any that he hasn’t seen. both your flaws and your virtue - if he wanted to run away, there were plenty of chances for him to do so but he stayed and now - now, you’ll never let him go. hold him captive in your castle, smooth criminal. you lean and press a kiss on his lips - just to make him close his eyes.

when you pull away, his lips chases yours. just like moth drawn to flames. you can’t help but giggle - it’s cut short when his hand weaves itself into your hair and bring you down to him.

you barely notice the hand that wraps around your wrist before your back hits the soft mattress. his shoulders appear more broad now that he’s hunched over you like a beast who hasn’t had a drop of water since the drought. at times like these you’re reminded of how man he is and how woman you are. a fact you seem to forget because he’s been playing along with your little games like a well-behaved child.

“hey, no fair!” lips pursed, you cross your arms in a show of protest. but he chuckles that soothing chuckle and he’s standing on his knees while the frame of his belt glints in warning.

your heart skips a beat at the sight of his arousal that was begging to be released from the confinements of his cobalt blue pants. the sigh he breathes out when he pulls down the zipper, sends shivers down your spine.but disappointment makes your face fall when he leaves it like that instead of pushing his pants down along with it.

that’s okay. you tell yourself. we’re married now-

you reach out for him only to have a hand wrap around your wrist, your fingers hovering achingly close to the gentle protrusion in his black boxers but not really touching.

you crane your neck to look at him but when your eyes meet, your words die in your throat. the smile is gone and in its place, is a tilted smirk, “are you sure? once we start i might not be able to stop.”

it’s that question that gets your heart writhing and crying to be set free from the confinement of your rib cages.

“seokjin,” the name tastes delectably sinful tonight, “i’ve never wanted anyone to fuck me this badly.”

maybe it’s the vow you’re making on the absolutely zero occasion where you’ve been this rapt by a man. maybe it’s your out of character use of the curse - that’s just how much you want this. or maybe it’s both. either way, seokjin’s gripping handfuls of your dress and you wordlessly raise your hands up for him to pull your dress off you.

it’s the way his eyes travel down your body. hunger. madness. lust. they meld together in those darkened eyes of his yet you’ve never felt so safe. he dives in for a kiss. this time, it’s raw and passionate and has no intention to stop halfway - not after he made it clear that he couldn’t and not after you pleaded for him to take you.

your white cotton bra is first to go - you only wore it because the straps won’t contrast too much with the strap of your dress. initially, you were going to tease him a bit and disappear into the bathroom to change into the lacy black lingerie set you’d specifically ordered to be custom made by victoria’s secret. but with the way he’s kneading your breast in his palm and the way you’re clawing against his clothed chest like a ravenous creature - the lingerie can wait.

“take off your clothes.” in your head, it sounded more demanding - but it comes out breathy and begging. a part of you chide yourself for waving the white flag before the game even began but another part of you is tired of being the only one bare and naked.

there’s a godless gleam in his eyes the moment he heard your request and you should have known seokjin wouldn’t make it that easy for you. this is karma coming back to bite you in your butt naked state after all those times you spent teasing the man and him accepting it without any complaint. you thought he was just mature enough to get over it. it turns out he was just a beast laying in wait to claim what he deserves, “what’s the magic word?”

“please.” you answer in a heartbeat.

that same heart stops beating the second he shakes his head. no. wrong answer. “the other one - do you really think i didn’t notice? the way you tease me - the way you know i won’t do anything about it because i’m older, i have to be a bigger person?”

that’s when your pride comes crashing in like tidal wave. walk away, it says. you take back what you said about having nothing to hide from seokjin - there’s one. and you thought you’d keep it with you. let it be buried in your grave. but he knows - like he knows every layer of your existence. your every desire and compulsion. it’s disgraceful and mortifying, for you. but seokjin holds your gaze and wait, wait, wait - he doesn’t seem to share your thoughts - doesn’t look disgusted either.

“daddy.” the moment the word leaves your mouth, you feel liberated. freed. like a long overdue confession. the pleased look on seokjin’s face is everything and more. “daddy, please.”

“as you wish.” he’s your liberator. your freer. and he’s about to grant your one carnal desire.

his clothes hit the ground within less than a minute. you can’t help but gawk at his perfectly sculpted physique. it’s like gods personally descended the heavens and blessed him in his mother’s womb and stayed by his side up until now - only for him to scorn them right in this moment. your body bounces off the bed lightly when his fingers dig in your thigh, pulling you closer like a ragged doll. a small yelp escapes you.

your panties are the last to go. discarded somewhere on the floor along with yours and his wedding attire.

the first whimper escapes the moment he slips into you, but not fully. he lets you take him in, get used to his size and directs your hand to his lips before placing it on his shoulder. as if telling you, you can hurt him, claw him until his back is raw and bleeding.

you wouldn’t at first - opting to keep your hands fisted while you try your hardest to suppress every moan that erupts from your mouth with every stroke. but then he hits that sweet spot. your back arches forward and you think it’s that moment when your fingers break the delicate skin on his back - but you can’t remember. it’s a blur - the electricity coursing from your heart through your veins and curls your toes. the stars you see in the back of your mind and the way you tighten around him when the delectable sound of his moans brushes the shell of your ear as he holds you against him.

he almost crushed him underneath his weight when he pulls out of you. the traces of his arousal pressing in between your bodies as he forces himself up by propping himself on his forearms. his labored breath fans your face and he’s all you see.

there’s still a surplus of tingle in your lower abdomen how high he takes you - almost like cloud nine. and you’re slick with sweat and body fluid but there’s no where you’d rather be than here, in your husband’s arms.

five months ago, you approached him with the objective of gaining a husband to take the chairman position and maybe give you the grandchild that your mother’s been asking you for. you didn’t expect for anything more than what you bargained for. but the first time he told you how he felt - you still didn’t believe him.

it was too surreal. and seokjin probably saw the tendrils of doubt every time he tells you how he feels - at the most sporadic moment. but he kept picking your thorns one by one like he could do this for a hundred years and more. you think i was that day when he found out about your past feelings for taehyung that he started. and he finally picked all of your prickly spikes - and now, he’s holding you like a child. head buried in between your breasts, muscled arms loosely hugging your waist. what a contrasting different to the man he was half an hour ago but so very seokjin of him.

the elated breath he lets out with his sigh is warm on your skin, “you know how to make an old man feel young.”

there he does it again. he’s been saying he’s old even though he’s only in his 30′s. at first you thought he was joking but over time - you think he truly believes he is. but when you agree with him-

“is your back okay? wouldn’t want your ancient bones breaking.” you pat his head sympathetically.

almost as if you’ve pushed a that button with a flashy warning red on it, his fingers twine around your wrist and pull it away from his head. the bed shifts as he hovers over you with an aggrieved glint, “i’m sure there are greater things that little mouth of yours can do than express your concerns for my back, sweetheart.”

your heart skips a beat.

epilogue.

you love being married.

not because you can strut to seokjin’s office and have everyone know you have every right to be there. nor because the board can’t really say anything since seokjin fits every characteristics of a chairman either. but because-

“we’ve been at it like rabbits,” seokjin shoulder line jolts slightly when your arms gently wrap around him from behind but there’s a sort of mirth laced in his voice, “you’re still not tired?”

“what ever do you mean, dear husband?” your voice is sweet but not entirely innocent.

sure, you did it an hour ago and you’re both supposed to get ready for bed but when you stepped out of the bathroom and find the bed empty, you had to wander outside. you know he’d be in the living room reviewing past years’ reports in his preparation to take on your dad’s position. he could just step up first and get familiar with his job along the way - but it wouldn’t have been very seokjin to enter the battlefield without polishing his armor.

he smells like peppermint and lavender. donning a plain white shirt and grey sweats - it’s the second most dressed down you’ve ever seen him in compared to the white-collars you’re so used to seeing him in. the first, being when he’s in bed, of course.

“okay, well, i’m going to bed first.” with a peck on his cheek, you bid him a good night.

but it’s not in your nature to give up without a fight - or rather, without sauntering in front him in your pastel pink camisole. you put on the a black and gold corset on your first monthivasery - it was just an excuse for you to try on the lingerie and it paid off. but there’s just something about camisoles - floral or plain pastels are what gets him prancing on you like a hungry beast. it looks like you’re not the only one with a fetish.

the cleaner comes in every twice a week and you’re not here enough to mess up the place except the master bedroom - like seokjin said, you have been going at it like rabbits. still, you bend down, making sure your ass is perked a little higher as you rearrange the picture frames on the rack under the tv.

a tune of your favorite song vibrates against your throat for thirty-six seconds before you straighten your back and begin to walk towards the bedroom. but something you caught in your periphery halts your steps, “did you just check out my ass then bite your lip? ‘cause if you did we’re having sex. right now.”

that seems to catch him off guard - you’ve been finding new and creative ways to get fucked. some worked. and by worked, you mean it had you moaning and writhing as he took you raw. some failed. meaning he had relented mainly because you were asking and he wanted to please you - at times like those, he was the one lying down, watching you ride him but halfway through, he’d pulled you down and started fucking you missionary because ‘you were good darling, but watching you makes me want to personally fuck you senseless. you can ride me next time, i promise.’

either way, your work life is superb and your sex life is out of this world. especially with a husband like seokjin. guess that dry spell has finally lifted and unleashed the hungry beast in him.

seokjin sighs, eyebrows coming together in a troubled frown but the lump in his pants say otherwise. “when you’re sore and need me to walk you to your office tomorrow, remember you asked for this.”

something in the pit of your stomach churns. your heart races with adrenaline as he takes two steps with those long legs of his and close the distance. a yelp escapes your lips, not expecting him to hoist you over his shoulder like you weight nothing and landing a smack on your ass like he’s reprimanding you.

“seokjin! put me down, i’m heavy!” you cry out, smacking his back in protest. when you wanted him to take you, this wasn’t exactly what you had in mind - it’d be a completely, perfect lie if you say you weren’t dripping with excitement.

“this way’s faster than your tiny little legs, darling.” you can hear the smirk in his voice before he kisses the exposed skin on your hip.

note: and that’s it. but it’s not over yet! there might be drabbles coming up on our fav couple’s adventure as they try to get preggo lmaooo also i’ll be doing a ‘story time’ where i talk about the background of this fic - what inspired me to write it, why i titled it like the way i did and i’d like to dissect and oc and tae’s relationship and so much more. send me an ask if you have something in particular you want me to address from the fic!

if you like this fic feel free to check out namjoon’s version called good guys finish last. i’m also planning to turn this au into a series for every member. taehyung or yoongi will be next!

#bts smut #kim seokjin smut #bts seokjin smut #bts #kim seokjin #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts scenarios #seokjin fanfic #seokjin fic #seokjin scenarios #kim seokjin fic #kim seokjin fanfic #kim seokjin scenarios #bts seokjin scenarios #bts seokjin fanfic #bts seokjin fic #bts x reader #bts x yn

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hello-everyfandom · 4 years

Text

“I never said I was good at picking names, for all I care we could call them Bob.”

Warnings: Baby fever

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Words: 1.9k

Summary: Seeing you with a baby in your arms gives George baby fever.

(I want a baby so bad. I’m only 19, but I just want a baby sooo bad!)

If George could capture any moment of his life, he’d snap a photo of you. You. All he could think about was you sometimes. He found himself amazed that someone as beautiful and kind as yourself had decided to love him, a poor boy of seven children who loved jokes and pranks. He watched you across the makeshift dance floor that the Weasley’s had put together in preparation for Bill and Fleur’s wedding. You wore a simple green dress with short puffy sleeves, on your neck adorned a small locket that George had gotten you for your eighth anniversary about a year ago. He could barely even place words on his tongue as you seemed to render him speechless, you were so carelessly beautiful, breathtaking, and stunning. He watched you laugh cutely, your nose wrinkled and eyes sparkling as you picked up Fleur’s cousin’s baby. You seemed entrenched, holding that small child in your arms. You bounced her on your hip, making wide eyes and speaking in a hushed voice, likely telling her how adorable she was with the blue bow on her head. You lifted your finger so she could grasp it with her small fat hands as you cooed and continued to talk to Fleur’s cousin. You were the most beautiful creature he had ever laid his eyes on. George swallowed thickly as your eyes caught his, send him a smile. You raised the small baby’s hand to pretend to wave at George. He could see you mouth to the baby, with a happy delight on your face,

“Whose that? Whose that? That’s George!”

It was no secret that George wanted children, he thought about his future and enjoyed daydreaming about teaching his child how to play quidditch or how to play a silly prank on Uncle Fred. But, seeing you with that tiny baby in your arms nearly made George faint. He had seen his future in front of him and he was more than happy with it. George had been certain he was in love with you the moment he met you, but he was for certain now you were the only woman he wanted. George managed to shake himself out of his trance and sipped on his glass of Firewhiskey whilst Lee Jordan and his twin made conversation, probably laughing about something silly.

“Excuse me, boys. I think I should see my lady over there,”

Fred rolled his eyes, “Don’t need to brag about it, mate, we all know you have a wicked girlfriend.”

“Yeah, bloody hell is it annoying,” Jordan joked but then asked with a straight face, “how did you do it?”

“Charm and wit and, well boys, I’m afraid you’re straight out of luck as you also need to be devilishly handsome and you two seem to lack that.” George heard Fred laugh whilst Jordan calling him a prick as he walked away. George made his way across the reception tent, placing himself at your side as you continued to speak to Fleur’s cousin.

“Don’t you look just absolutely enchanting,”

“Thank you, love.” You turned to face George, the baby babbling away happily in your arms.

“Actually, how awkward, ‘was talking about the little darling in your arms there.”

You let out a bark of a laugh before shoving his arm, “Oh, you little sod,”

“Oi! Should we be using that type of language ‘round the baby?” George placed his large, rough hands on your hip, cooing at the baby as well whose eyes seemed to widen at the sight of George’s red hair.

“I think she likes you, Georgie,”

“What can I say? I’m a ladies man,” George grinned, bending his head down to greet the child, “Hello you! She’s quite adorable don’t you think?” George asked you. You hummed in response, steadying her on your hip before reaching on your tippy-toes to slightly pull George’s bandages into a better position. You frowned softly and patted his cheek.

“What’s that look for?” George’s hands didn’t leave your hips,

“I don’t think I like seeing you hurt, actually, I forbid you to get hurt from here on end.”

“Yes Ma’am,” George looked at you so tenderly, so in love.

“Would you like to hold her?”

“Hell yes, I’d like to hold her!” George said excitedly, you scolded him before handing her off into his arms. He raised her above his head and making a wooshing noise with his lips. “Look at you, you’re a natural in the air. You’ll make for a good chaser, maybe even a beater if you bulk up a bit, but it seems you’ve got quite a bit of muscle there.” He squeezed the baby’s tiny arm. George seemed to be in his own world, with nothing but adoration in his eyes. You watched, reaching out your hand to place comfortably on his abdomen. If anyone were to look upon you two, they’d surely assume you were a young family, happy and loving as ever. You desperately wanted a family, despite the war storming onto your futures, you wished for a child.

“What do you think about having one?” George asked, making you blink.

“Having...?” You trailed off, also reaching to fix the baby’s bow on her head.

“Having a baby, of course.” George bit his lip to hold back his smile as he watched your eyes trail to look at his. You were simply so beautiful, it actually began to hurt.

“I’d love to have children, you know that.”

“I mean, with me.” Your boyfriend clarified. His voice seemed to portray humor however he couldn’t help but become nervous. Maybe you weren’t planning on staying with him? God knows he didn’t deserve you. Maybe you wanted children but wanted a rich boyfriend or husband or just, in general, didn’t want him. George’s worries were squashed as you blushed and looked down at the child in your arms,

“Of course, who else would I have children with? Fred?”

“Please don’t put that image in my head,” George groaned.

“Sorry, sorry.” You laughed lightly, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “I mean it, I would love to have children with you, one day.”

“One day?” George exclaimed, “How about now?”

“Nope.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Mmm, no.”

“Next week?”

“No.

“This year?”

“No.”

“Next year?”

“Maybe.”

“Really?”

“No.”

George chuckled, handing off the sweet child back to her mother. He held his hand out in front of him, motioning to you to join him in a dance. Night settled around the burrow as guests chattered and danced, all joyous in celebrating the love of Bill and Fleur. George held you in his arms, towering over you as he slowly swayed to the enchanted instruments that played. His hand placed softly on the small of your back. He could smell the perfume he so loved on your neck and could see the gloss you had placed on your lips just minutes before the wedding. He daydreamed about your children, wondering if they’d have his eyes or yours. If they’d be smart little arses or be more like their mother.

“Okay, maybe.” He heard you mumble against his chest,

“What’s that, Love?” George asked, lifting your chin with his thumb.

“Maybe we can have a baby... this year.”

George nearly jumped, rocketing into the sky and leaving nothing but his trousers and his shoes, he smiled wildly, “Really?”

“I’m just hesitant, I suppose. A baby is a big responsibility, Georgie.”

“I’m well aware, you seem to forget I have two younger siblings who so happened to have been babies once in their life.”

“That’s different! This would be... would be our child. I’m just a tad bit nervous.”

“Don’t be, we both want children, we both love each other, why not?”

“We’re quite young, George.”

“Mum had Bill young. Not much older than us, actually.”

“Yes but, the war-”

“Mum had Bill during the war as well. Really, Darling, your excuses are slacking quite a bit.”

“But the shop-”

“Is doing quite wonderful, now how else can I diminish your worries? I love you immensely, and I assume you love me, or at least tolerate me enough to be dancing with me now.”

You were silent for a bit, laying your head back on his chest. “What would you name him or her?”

George thought for a bit, “Well, I’d never name him after Fred. He’d surely grow a big head if I ever did that. ‘Sides, that’s something you only do after someone dies.” George thought a little longer. “Maybe something old fashioned like Geraldo or Hubert.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, covering your mouth, “Oh Georgie, our poor child.”

“I never said I was good at picking names, for all I care we could call them Bob.”

“Yes, well, that’s exactly what we won’t be doing.”

“If you’re so smart, why don’t you pick a name all of them, then.”

“Them? As in multiple?”

“Yes?” George asked confused, “Were we not going to have multiple?”

“How many were you thinking, Weasley?”

“How’s seven?”

“Seven!?”

“My mother had seven,” George said defensively,

“Yes, and I’m not nearly as strong as your mother. I’m not even sure how she raised you lot without pulling out her hair.”

George beamed and kissed your forehead lightly, “Alright, six?”

“Let’s try for one, and then go from there.” You laugh, pulling away from his chest to look up into his brown eyes.

“Fine with me,” George held your chin leaning in to press a kiss on your sweet lips. Before he could, a white orb flew into the tent making the guests gasp. Kingsley Shacklebolt’s voice rang out,

“The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming.”

For a beat, everyone was silent as if they weren’t sure what to do. Then, chaos ensued. Tables were flipped and frightened screams rang. People began to disapparate in a hurry as black flashes apparated into the tent. George held your arms as you stared up at him in horror.

“Y/N, go!” He shouted, grabbing his wand from his pocket. You searched for your wand that you had stupidly placed somewhere. You could hear George spit a spell at a Death Eater, yelling in your ears to return to the Burrow or at least apparate to safety. Realization flooded your bloodstream cold as you felt your entire self shiver with fear. You turned to George who had successfully disarmed the Death Eater and ran towards you, attempting to drag you away.

“George!” You yelled over the screaming,

“Y/N. It’s not safe here, Love. Go, please!”

“George!” You yelled louder, panic-stricken, “The baby, George!” Before he could do anything,

George watched you dash across the tent, your green dress leaving his eyesight.

“Wait! Y/N, your wand!” But you couldn’t hear him. George cursed, before throwing another spell at another Death Eater and chased after you, dodging the people and the flipped chairs. He was terrified that once he crossed the tent, he’d find your limp body. However, he found you helping up Fleur’s cousin who had fallen, the baby in your arms. You whispered panicky, pushing the baby in her arms.

“Leave! Run, quickly!” The mother looked at you and then George before nodding quickly and disapparating away with her child.

George sprinted over to you, you searched him for injuries as you held each other’s forearms. The eye contact you made was frantic and worried but glad you had found safety in each other. You nodded at your boyfriend with a knowing look before the two of you apparated away together, hand in hand.

#george weasley #george weasley imagines #george weasley imagine #george weasley oneshot #fred weasley imagine #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #harry potter

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waitimcomingtoo · 4 years

Text

Baked Chicken

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Submitted by @mylittleladysblog :

A/n: Shoutout to Greg Townley, though I pray he never sees this.

It was the first week of shooting the newest Spider-Man movie, and you were finally wearing costumes. Getting to wear MJ’s comfortable clothes was always an exciting part of the film making process for you. You saw your stunt double in the same white t shirt and ripped black jeans as you were in and gave her a high five. She didn’t wear her wig unless she was filming, so you could easily be told a let. Unlike Tom and Greg, who were impossible to differentiate between when they were wearing the same costume and facing the back.

Impossible.

“Hey you.” You spotted Tom with his face buried in the script and tapped him on the shoulder. After two movies together, now working on your third, you were best friends.

And it is perfectly normal to be in love with your best friend.

“Hey Y/n.” Toms stunt double, Greg turned around with a surprised smile.

“Greg! What a surprise!” You laughed in shock and tried to hide your embarrassment for mistaking Greg as Tom.

“Surprise? You tapped me on the shoulder.” Greg reminded you, not realizing you had been looking for Tom. You nodded and decided to lie as to not hurt his feelings.

“And it’s very surprising that you turned around. I could’ve been anyone. I could’ve had a knife!” You laughed awkwardly at your lame attempt at a cover up and Greg saw right through it.

“You thought I was Tom.” He said matter of factly.

“I did, yes.” You admitted. “But getting to talk to you is a lovely surprise.”

“Right.” He laughed dismissively and you instantly felt guilty.

“I’m sorry. I am happy to see you, though. You’re doing a really great job with the stunts.” You told him sincerely and he gave you a half smile.

“Thanks. Its really not that scary if you ever wanted to try it. I could even show you.” He offered with a certain kindness to it.

“Haha, thanks but I think I’ll let my stunt double handle that. I’m not a huge fan of heights or falling to my death.” You said and he laughed.

“Nonsense. I wouldn’t let you fall.” He shrugged shyly. 👉👈 I’ll put them in every story just watch me

“Thanks, Greg.” You smiled, pleasantly surprised with how the accidental conversation had gone.

“Hey, Y/n.” Tom came from behind you and put his hand on the small of your back, something he did when the paparazzi on the red carpets were shouting a little too loudly or if someone got a little too close to you. “Hi, Greg.”

“Tom!” You leaned into his touch, sensing he was a little off.

“I’ll leave you guys to it.” Greg nodded and walked towards the trailers.

“Since when are you and Greg friends?” Tom asked as soon as Greg was out of earshot. He kept his hand on your back and you realized he felt threatened.

“Since we started rehearsing in costume and I can’t tell you guys apart from the back.” You told him to ease his mind.

“That’s too bad.” Tom laughed lightly, relieved to know the playful shoulder tap was meant for him.

“It is too bad. I just wasted some perfectly good flirting on your stunt double.” You joked and Toms angst was immediately alleviated. Neither of you dared to say it, but you both knew you had something going on. Tom was just as hopelessly in love with you as you were with him, but the fear of getting rejected and then having to continue playing love interests stopped you from confessing.

It just didn’t stop you from flirting.

“Oh yeah? Maybe I should start doing my own stunts, then, like Tom Cruise.” Tom said and flexed his arm to make you laugh. “Makes the action shots look a a lot cooler anyway, you know?”

“I have never seen a Tom Cruise movie.” You said as you playfully squeezed his muscle.

“Really?” Tom asked.

“I don’t even think I’ve seen a trailer of his.” You realized. “I doubt I could even name one of his movies.”

“Mission impossible.” Tom told you.

“Well, I don’t think it’d be impossible for me to name one but it might take a while.” You disagreed, not realizing he was naming a movie.

“No I was- you know what? Never mind.” Tom laughed fondly and you had a feeling you missed the joke. Not wanting the conversation to end there, you gave him a soft shrug.

“Maybe we can watch one together one day.” You suggested as you fixed them collar of his shirt.

“I would love to.” He said with a faint blush.

That night, you watched about 47 minutes of a Tom Cruise movie before falling asleep in Toms lap. He made it midway of the movie before dozing off as well.

You woke up first the next morning and jolted a little when you didn’t recognize where you were. You quickly realized you were in Toms trailer, smiling softly when you saw his sleeping body next to you. Your legs were practically braided together, so you couldn’t move. You nudged him a little and in his sleep, he pulled you back on to the bed and held you to his chest.

“Morning.” You giggled as he rolled on top of you, still half asleep.

“Good morning.” Tom said groggily, opening his eyes a title. “What time is it?”

“7. We have to be in makeup by 8.” You checked your phone. You pushed him off of you but he held on tight, leaving you with your chin resting on his chest as he stared down at you, arms clad around your waist and resting on your back.

“I kinda want to stay here all day. Is that bad?” He said with a sleepy smile.

“It’s not bad if I want to do it too.” You smiled and brushed a hair off his nose. “We can stay here a few more minutes and then go get some breakfast. Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect.” He nodded and ran his fingers through your messy hair.

You spotted Tom later in the blue plaid button up he was wearing as Peters costume. After the morning you’d had together, you were less worried of his rejection and more focused on sealing the deal. You walked up to him with confidence and gave him a hug from behind.

“Hey.” You wrapped your arms around his torso, missing him after a long day of shooting separate scenes. You were surprised to hear a deep sigh come from his mouth, as if he wasn’t happy to see you.

“It’s Greg.” Greg said and you quickly let go as you realized you were hugging the wrong boy.

“Oh shit.” You whispered as Greg turned around. “I mean, hey Greg! Don’t be silly, I knew it was you.” You lied through your teeth.

“You did?” Greg asked with a hint of skepticism and a hint of hope.

“Well of course! I just had to give my special guy a hug, like I always do.” You said with unnatural cheerfulness. You were a great actress, but a terrible liar.

“I thought you only hugged me when you thought I was Tom.” Greg said and you felt stuck.

“What? Me? Never. I hug you because I…love you.” You blurted the first thing that came to your mind. You barely knew Greg and now you were telling him you loved him.

“You love me?” Greg said with a bright smile.

“Who doesn’t love Greg? Not me, I’ll tell you that.” You slapped his arm. “Love me some Greg every now and then.” You committed to your lie.

“Thanks, Y/n. That means a lot.” Greg was somehow unaware of your deceit.

“Anytime, pal. Anytime.” You punched him lightly on the shoulder. As he walked away, you made a mental note to double check before hugging anybody in a plaid shirt.

You went two full weeks without accidentally hugging Greg after that. All your hugs had been given to Tom, who they were rightfully meant for. He enjoyed the affection from you and at the same time, Greg began to miss it.

“That was amazing! God, you take my breath away.” You threw your arms around Toms shoulders and squeezed after a strenuous shoot with lots of wire work. He put his hands over yours and gave them a light squeeze before turning around.

“Aw, thanks Y/n.” Greg smiled and you felt like an idiot.

“How the hell does this keep happening?” You thought.

“Greg!” You said with a fake smile as you scanned the background for Tom.

“You thought I was Tom again, didn’t you?” He asked, a little disappointed.

“Would you stop with that? I always know it’s you.” You blatantly lied to his face

“You don’t have to say that, Y/n. If you were expecting Tom-“ Greg began.

“I wasn’t expecting Tom.” You cut him off, even though you were completely expecting Tom.

“So I take your breath away?” He tested you.

“Absolutely.” You let out a fake scoff.

“That’s funny.” He said with a small smile.

“Why?” You asked.

“You do the same to me.” He said timidly.

“Oh.” You said softly.

“See you around.” He nodded and walked away, leaving you confused and questioning what he meant.

The next time you waited for Tom after filming a scene, you made sure it was actually Tom. You waited until Toms sweet brown eyes met yours before you ran to him.

“Tom! Great job.” You threw your arms around him and buried your face in his neck. Tom happily picked you up as you wrapped your legs around his waist. He set you down gently and squeezed your face between his hands with an endearing grin.

“Thanks, princess.” He said. The nickname made your heart skip a beat. You smiled brightly at him until your eyes trailed to the right. Tom followed your gaze and saw Greg leaving set. You broke out of Toms embrace and went to Greg.

“Greg! Awesome work!” You said honestly and gave him a quick hug, which he happily accepted. Tom felt jealousy bubble in the pit of his tummy at the sight of you and Greg. He had no idea when it started, but he seemed to be seeing you and Greg together everywhere he turned.

“Thanks, Y/n. Catch you later.” Greg smiled and left the set.

“I didn’t realize you and Greg were on a hugging basis now.” Tom said, sounded less friendly than he intended. He was annoyed, and you could tell.

“I just have to convince him that I hug him on purpose.” You said and Tom furrowed his eyebrows.

“What does that even mean?” Tom inquired.

“I’ll explain later. Come on. I’ve missed you all day.” You tugged him by the hand and the pit in his tummy was replaced with butterflies as you tugged him towards your trailer.

“Hey man.” Greg said as he walked up to the snack table and stood behind Tom.

“Mate, awesome work today. The stunts look great.” Tom complimented.

“You’re doing something great work yourself.” Greg returned the favor.

“Thanks. I could never do what you do, though. They must’ve dunked you in that water a thousand times.” Tom kept the conversation light.

“It’s worth it. Especially this next scene.” Greg smiled to himself.

“Next scene?” Tom asked as he stirred some sugar into his tea.

“When MJ dives in the lake after Peter and kisses him through the mask.” Greg said with a light blush on his cheeks. Tom knew the scene was being shot today, but he assumed it was going to be between Greg and your stunt double.

“Oh, right. You’re excited to spend all that time underwater?” Tom forced a laugh before taking a sip of tea.

“I’m excited for Y/n to kiss me.” Greg laughed and Tom choked on his tea. He snapped out of it and tried to keep his cool as he continued the conversation.

“Oh, yeah? I thought her stunt double was gonna do that.” Tom said as he dabbed his chin with a napkin.

“Nah, man. That’s what makes her so cool. She said something about seeing a Tom Cruise movie for the first time and wanting to do her own stunts. She’s gonna be the one diving in the lake and kissing me underwater. Best job ever, right?” Greg nudged Tom playfully, having no idea how much Tom liked you. Or how much this conversation was killing him.

“Right.” Tom laughed nervously. “Are you into her or something?”

“God, I am in love with that girl. And I think she likes me back.” Greg said confidently and Toms heart stopped. You were always talking to Greg, and usually seemed very happy when you were. You hadn’t mentioned anything about liking someone, but then again, you never talked about that stuff with Tom. Toms mouth went dry at the thought of you losing you to his stunt double.

“What makes you so sure?” He asked curiously, a little afraid to hear the answer.

“She’s always running to see me or hugging me from behind. And she compliments me so much, it’s insane.” Greg chuckled. “I think she might really like me.”

“And all the hugs from behind, are you sure they’re meant for you? I don’t mean to burst your bubble or anything, but she and I are very close and she could be mistaking you for me when we’re in the same clothes. Or something.” Tom stammered.

“That’s what I always thought, but she assured me it wasn’t true.” Greg smiled to himself at the thought of the conversation you had once. “She told me I take her breath away, man. How cute is that?”

“Adorable.” Tom gulped. He didn’t know you said that to Greg, and it made him upset to think about you giving such a sweet compliment to someone else.

“I’m gonna ask her out.” Greg decided. “I’m tired of waiting. I’m just gonna do it.”

“Ask her out? When?” Tom panicked.

“Next time I see her. You’re shooting a scene on set B later, right? She usually hangs around when you’re filming. I’ll probably catch her there.” Greg drew up his plan.

“Ha, yeah.” Tom laughed weakly.

“Alright. See you later, dude.” Greg patted Toms back and walked away from the table.

“Later.” Tom said, but Greg was already gone.

Tom left the snack table and started furiously texting you, asking you to meet him anywhere as quickly as possible. He entirely missed you walked past him until he heard your voice.

“Hey Greg.” You said as you walked by, also buried in your phone. Tom stopped walking and looked at you curiously.

“It’s Tom.” Tom said, a little bitterly, and you stopped in your tracks. You turned around with a surprised smile and walked back to him.

“Oh My God, really?” You said in disbelief, looking him up and down to make sure it was true.

“Were you expecting Greg?” Tom worried after the conversation he’d just had with Greg.

“I am literally never expecting Greg. That’s my problem.” You laughed and fixed Toms hair that had fallen into his face.

“What?” Tom asked, feeling better now that you were being your usual flirty self with him.

“Nothing. Long story.” You shook your head and stopped touching his hair, content with how it looked.

“Okay. You ready for that lake scene later? I heard you’re doing it yourself.” Tom faked a smile, desperate to know your thoughts on shooting the scene with Greg.

“I am! I’m really excited for it actually. You’re gonna be there right?” You asked for confirmation.

“Definitely.” Tom assured you, trying to read your reaction.

“Cool. I like when you watch me film.” You told him and he perked up a little.

“Having me there doesn’t make you nervous? Every time I know my mum is watching a take, I forget how to blink.” Tom eased up and you laughed.

“It’s different with you. I feel more at ease knowing you’re watching. It calms me down.” You told him and he couldn’t help from smiling.

“I’m happy to hear that.” He said honestly. “And you’re doing the scene with Greg, right?”

“Yeah. Greg.” You nodded slightly, not wanting to change the subject.

“Great guy.” Tom commented with an uneasy smile.

“No, totally.” You said stiffly. You did not want to be talking about Greg with the boy you liked.

“Are you excited to kiss him?” Tom blurted and you looked at him strangely.

“Excited? Bleh. It’s through the mask anyway and it’s in the script. It’s nothing like what we shot yesterday.” You tried to bring the conversation back to a place where progress was being made. Toms face flushed when he thought of the climatic kiss you shot yesterday. After 18 takes of kissing you like he’d never see you again, Tom went home dizzy with a dreamy smile on his face.

“Yeah I um, I enjoyed yesterday.” He looked at the ground and smiled shyly. 👉👈 I’ll never stop.

“We should do it again sometime.” You said boldly and Toms attention whipped back to you. He had to stop the giant smile that wanted to break through from surfacing.

“I agree. Maybe without the camera though.” His mouth moved faster than his brain, but you seemed to like it.

“Yeah.” You smiled and took a step closer to Tom. “I meant to tell you this before, but you’re doing a great job with this film. I love staying on set to watch you do your scenes. Especially the emotional ones, Tom.” You sighed in content. “You take my breath away.

“I do? Me?” Tom asked when he recognized the compliment you had told Greg.

“Yeah, you.” You laughed at his strange response. “Why?”

“Can I ask you something?” He became serious.

“Anything.” You assured him.

“Have you ever hugged Greg thinking he was me?” He asked if as casually as he could to not make it weird.

“Um, only like everyday. That’s why I was so surprised it was actually you earlier. Why?” You wondered how he had caught on to your ongoing dilemma.

“There’s something I need to tell you.” He said, all playfulness gone from his tone. Tom wanted to tell you about Greg’s plan, not necessarily to steal you from Greg, but to prepare you for what was coming. If Tom was putting the pieces together correctly, all your flirty banter with Greg was intended for Tom. Now Greg was whipped and you were about to look like the bad guy.

He also wanted to steal you from Greg.

“Tom Holland to set B. Tom Holland to set B.” A voice rang through on the announcements at the worst possible time.

“You can tell me after. I gotta head to makeup anyway.” You smiled and Tom felt his panic rise. “It’s just a touch-up, so I’ll be by soon to watch your scene. Good luck.” You squeezed his arm and walked away. Tom watched with dread as you left before he had a chance to tell you what was coming.

Tom stood on his mark and listened to what the director wanted him to do in the scene, even though his mind was a million miles away. He only barely heard them call “action” and began to deliver his lines with his focus all over the place. His eyes trailed off his scene partner and landed on Greg, slowly approaching you as you watched the scene with a giddy smile. Toms mouth went dry and he purposely flubbed his line so they could stop filming. The director began to give him some more directions, but Toms focus was pointed at you and Greg.

“Hey, Y/n.” Greg taped your shoulder and you turned around.

“Freaking Greg.” Tom muttered through gritted teeth.

“Hey Greg. Come by to watch the scene?” You asked politely.

“I came to see you, actually.” Greg said, making your head turn.

“You did?” You asked, not used to him initiating the conversations you had.

“Yeah, there was something I needed to tell you.” Greg smiled nervously and Tom felt himself beginning to sweat, the cold kind that chilled your spine.

“Oh, sure. Go ahead.” You said and gave Greg your full attention.

“No no no no no no.” Tom whispered in despair.

“What was that?” Kevin, the director asked.

“I said ‘woah woah woah woah woah’ because this scene is just so good.” Tom lied and turned his attention back to you.

“Can we go somewhere private, actually?” Greg requested and Tom nearly fell to the ground. He wished he could leave the set and ask you to stay, ask you to be his instead, but he couldn’t. He had to stand by and watch as another boy whisked you away. A boy in the exact same freaking clothing as Tom was in.

“Okay.” You made eye contact with Tom and Greg began to lead you away. You weren’t blind to the look of devastation on his face and gave him a quizzical look. Tom shrugged sadly and you began to wonder if this had anything to do with what he was trying to tell you before.

You and Greg walked off set and found a quiet space near the trailers. Your tummy did flip flops as Greg cleared his throat, obviously getting ready to tell you something. You took a deep breathe and lead the conversation.

“What did you need to tell me?” You asked.

“I guess I’ll just be straightforward. I like you, Y/n. I like you a lot.” Greg admitted. “I wasn’t gonna say anything because I didn’t think I’d ever have a chance with a girl like you, but then you kept hugging me and complimenting me and I don’t know. It made me think you liked me back? Am I right when I say that?”

“Greg, I…” You absorbed his words and let them sink to the bottom of your tummy like a rock. “…am a jerk. I’m a total jerk.”

“That’s not true. You’re the nicest person on this set.” Greg insisted and you felt even worse.

“I’m not.” You sighed. “I do admire your work and I am always happy to see you, but I have never approached you thinking you were…well, you. I’m always-“

“-looking for Tom?” Greg finished your sentence.

“Yes.” You came clean. “I shouldn’t have lied to you, but I just felt so bad. I didn’t want you to feel unappreciated, because I really do think you’re great. I didn’t realize lying would make the situation worse.”

“I had a feeling you weren’t actually excited to see me.” Greg laughed halfheartedly. “Probably should’ve listened to that feeling.”

“I’m so sorry.” You apologized and squeezed his arm.

“You know what? It’s okay. We wouldn’t have worked out anyway.” Greg said with a sincerity you appreciated. He didn’t seem hurt, just relieved to get it off his chest.

“Why do you say that?” You asked out of curiosity.

“Well, like I said. You take my breath away.” Greg said and you felt guilt again. “You make me so nervous, it’s not even funny. And there’s this study that says if you meet someone and they make you nervous, and your palms get sweaty, and your heart races out of your chest, then they aren’t the one for you. It’s not until you meet someone who makes you feel totally calm that you’ve found your soulmate.”

“Oh.” You said quietly, taking his words into consideration.

“Have you ever had that? Someone who makes you feel at peace?” He asked quietly.

“I don’t know.” You told him, too deep in thought to give him a better answer.

“Greg Townley to Lot A. Greg Townley to Lot A.” Rang over the announcements.

“That’s my cue. I’ll see you around, Y/n.” Greg gave you a kind smile.

“See you.” You said sadly. He walked away and you felt your heart sink with every step he took. You didn’t want to be with him, but you also didn’t want to break his heart. He was so kind about your rejection that it made you even sadder. He deserved better than an “I don’t know.”

You took a walk to clear your head and didn’t get back to your trailer until the sun had set. You’d taken a lot of time to think, asking yourself what today was supposed to teach you. If Greg could put himself out there and confess his feelings, you could too. You could also tell him the real reason you had to turn him down. You opened your trailer door and jumped when you saw Greg in there already, facing the wall and flipping through a magazine. You took a deep breath and prepared to rip the band-aid off.

“Greg! I need to talk to you. Remember when you asked me if I had someone who made me feel at peace and I told you I didn’t know?” You asked. “I do know. It’s Tom. It’s always been Tom. You are so sweet and talented and kind but I am so in love with that boy, it’s unbelievable.” You let out a laugh. “I really appreciate you telling me about your feelings and I’m sorry I can’t reciprocate them, but it has nothing to do with you. It’s just because I’m in love with someone else. I’m sorry.”

Greg had stopped flipping through the magazine at some point and stood frozen, facing the wall. You were out of breath from your rant and his stillness wasn’t helping your anxiety.

“Please say something.” You begged. Greg slowly turned around and lo and behold,

It was Tom.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me.” You yelled, not to anyone in particular, but it was slightly aimed at God.

“You’re in love with me?” Tom asked like it was the craziest thing he ever heard. You gave him a shrug, not knowing what else to do.

“Now it’s you? Why hasn’t it been you the 500 times I’ve given Greg the best hug of his life? The one time I need to talk to Greg, and it’s you? Really?” You asked the Heavens why you consistently made that mistake. “Oh and yeah, I am.” You sheepishly answered his question.

“I thought Greg was gonna ask you out.” He said, hurt evident in his tone.

“He did.” You told him, once again talking about Greg instead of your budding romance with each other.

“And you said no?” Tom tilted his head to the side.

“Did you not hear my whole rant?” You practically yelled at him out of frustration.

“Well, not the first part because I was reading a recipe for baked chicken-“ Tom glanced back down at the magazine and pure rage filled your body.

“TOM!” You yelled to regain his attention.

“It was a good recipe!” He defended as he pointed to the centerfold. “It has sweet potatoes.”

“I’m trying to tell you how I feel and you’re-wait, sweet potatoes?” You pretended to be caught off guard at the new information.

“Yeah, look.” He handed you the magazine as you glared at him for not getting your sarcasm. You smacked it out of his hands and he stared at it on the ground. You both stood in silence for a moment, staring at the magazine before Tom started to laugh. You were angry at first, but started laughing as well when you realized he was messing with you.

“You don’t care about the chicken.” You said indefinitely.

“Nope.” He shook his head.

“You’re messing with me.” You realized.

“Yep.” He nodded with a cheeky grin.

“I hate you so much.” You whined and stamped your foot.

“I may be in love with you, but you’re always gonna be my best friend before anything else. And there’s nothing I love more than messing with my best friend.” Tom took your hand and pulled you against his body. You let out a little surprised laugh but quieted down when you saw the look on his face as he took your face between his hands. “You think I care about baked chicken when my princess told me she’s in love with me? You think I’m worried about sweet potatoes now? At a time like this?”

“That was half sweet and half absolutely ridiculous to listen to.” You berated him and he laughed. You could feel his body moving against yours as he laughed and it had a certain effect on you.

“Was it the part about the sweet potatoes?” He pouted and you wanted to smack him.

“No.” You huffed and he pressed his forehead against yours.

“The baked chicken, then?” He asked.

“Say baked chicken one more time and I promise you-“ You were interrupted by Tom kissing you. You’d kissed plenty of times before for the camera, but this one felt different.

This one felt earned.

Tom pulled away after a minute and let out a soft chuckle.

“I’ve been in love with you for years, and all it took was Greg and some baked chicken for us to finally get together?” He whispered to not disturb the peace.

“Don’t mistake my gentle tone for calmness because I can assure you, I am filled with waters of rage,” You said sweetly and Tom laughed, “but I dare you to say baked chicken again. I dare you.”

“Alright, I’ll stop.” Tom smiled and pecked your lips again. “We can’t go to far from set, so I have some ramen and Cheerios if you want dinner. It can be like our first date.”

“God, ramen and Cheerios? You spoil me too much.” You teased him over his food choices.

“Says the girl with nothing in her trailer but popcorn and no microwave.” Tom teased you.

“It’s not my fault that they took away my microwave after I accidentally put the mental cup in there.” You shot back. Tom bit his lips as he stared at you with a dopey smile. It wasn’t long before you smiled back.

“Tell you what princess, as soon as we get a break from filming, I want you to come over to my house for a real date.” Tom said as he wrapped his arms around you. “I have plans for us.”

“Plans?” You asked with a cheeky smile.

“There’s this great recipe-“ Tom didn’t get to finish his sentence, as he was smacked across the face with one of your pillows.