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filthyjoetini · 2 years ago

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Love is in the Air(BnB)

a/n: This one was a bitch to write. It took me a while. Sooooorry! The usual thanks goes to my lovely beta-reader as well as my kick ass editor (hehe) @barfightzanddiscolightz ! Also, Wes is back in action!

warnings: none

wordcount: 5.5k

part 1 - Friday night - part 2 - Saturday - part 3 - Sunday - part 5 - Tuesday - part 6 - Wednesday - part 7 - Thursday - Epilogue

Monday

“Hello there, love.”

You let your shades-covered eyes move up and saw Wesley standing in the doorway between the living room and balcony, looking like he had just gotten out of bed. You were sitting on a lawn chair, feet tucked under your bum, sipping your tea while you enjoyed the warm sun. The weather really meant well for you the past couple of days and today should also be warm enough to finally wear proper summer clothes. You were used to London’s sky being covered in clouds, foggy alleyways, and rain-soaked pavement. But not this time; this time you were graced with sunny skies and warm air. You pushed your sunglasses up to your hair and greeted Wesley.

“Good morning…. Or rather noon, Wes.”, you corrected yourself after glancing at your wristwatch, which showed you that the time was 12:18pm., “Did you sleep well?”

He nodded and sat down in the chair next to you, rubbing his eyes.

“Yup.”, he yawned. “Like a log…Do say, what’s on your itinerary for today? Planned anything exciting?” He turned to you with a small smirk on his lips.

You didn’t really have an itinerary for this trip. The only thing you really had planned was the play you wanted to see, which you did last night. Other than that, you would just do things spontaneously.

“Not really.”, you replied honestly, “I thought I’d hit the city to do some light shopping, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. Except you won’t.”

Wesley’s statement made you look at him in confusion. He wasn’t even looking at you, he just picked at his nailbeds and stared across the rooftop of the house next door.

“I won’t?”, you questioned him with one eyebrow raised, “And why is that?”

“Because!”, he turned to you, a big grin on his face, “It’s my day off and you’re coming to the lake with me. Joe will be joining us later in the afternoon and the guys and Becky will also be coming after they’re done with work for the day.”, he explained as he suddenly got up to lean against the balcony’s railing. “I usually go alone and just wait until everyone arrives but you’re here now so you can keep me company. I really hope you packed a swimsuit.”

For some reason, unbeknownst to you, you did in fact pack a bikini. You remembered holding it in your hand whilst packing and almost putting it back. Something within you told you to pack it so you threw it in your suitcase.

“I packed one, yes. I don’t have a towel though.”, you remarked.

“No worries, you can borrow one of my beach towels.”, Wesley replied as he let go of the railing and walked over to you. Stopping next to you, he motioned for you to get up. You slowly untucked your feet, letting them down onto the ground. You placed your hands on the chair’s armrests and pushed yourself up. Your movement made a small clang sound which made both Wesley and you look down to where it came from. It was the wooden beaded bracelet you had put on while exploring the flat yesterday.

Wesley narrowed his eyes at it and then moved his glance to your face.

“Hey…where did you get that?”

“Uhm”, you started, suddenly worried you had done something terribly bad by putting on the bracelet. You swore to yourself you would put it back again, but it had slipped your mind that you were wearing it. “I…I found it on the commode in the hallway. I swear it was never my intention to keep it. I just…forgot about it. Sorry.”, you clarified, a small frown grazing your lips as you slid it off your wrist, holding it out for him to take.

Instead of grabbing it, Wesley suddenly burst out laughing which irritated you to no end. He was such an unpredictable man. One day you’d get sweet and caring Wesley; you experienced that Wesley on the evening you arrived as well as the day you had to move to the living room. The other, you get the jokester who was just waiting to catch you off guard like on Saturday. Today must be yet another jokester day. You really hoped Joe wouldn’t catch Wesley’s mood and team up with him, as he was a bloody menace on his own and you had already blushed enough for a lifetime.

“I’m just taking the piss, love!”

Oh, I figured, you thought while he was still howling with laughter. He finally took the bracelet from you but instead of keeping it, he put it back on your wrist. “Christ, you should’ve seen your face. All worried.”, he giggled and took his hand in yours. “I’m sorry, but I had to…also, keep it. Consider it a token of our friendship.”, he winked and let go of your hand to walk inside the flat again. You were just standing there, looking at the bracelet with a soft smile on your face. Friendship… Wesley considered you a friend.

“ARE YOU COMING?!”

You heard him yell from inside the flat which startled you a bit.

“COMING!”, you shouted back and stepped inside the living room, closing the French doors behind you.

---

Huge beach bag slung over your shoulder and the opposite hand holding onto a cool box, Wesley and you exited the supermarket next to the train station. He was carrying two shopping bags filled to the brim with drinks, snacks, and foods to put on the grill in the evening. The group had decided to throw their first barbie of the year at the lake and had appointed Wesley as the designated food-and-drinks-provider. He had a list of everyone’s favourites on his phone and even asked you what you wanted. When you had said you’d eat anything, he got offended and forced you to tell him your preferences. At first your stubborn arse didn’t want to be a burden, but he just kept on bugging you until you caved in.

The beach bag, whose weight was currently pulling you down, was almost bursting from the number of things you had packed. You usually packed lightly, but Wesley insisted on taking basically half of the swimming inventory they owned. Apart from the towels and sunscreen, he demanded you also put in a deck of UNO-cards, a half-tent, snorkelling equipment, flippers, and even sand toys. It was beyond you as to why they even owned sand toys, but all he had said was that you would see, while grinning like a maniac. You assumed there must be a patch of sand at the lake.

Wesley led you into the station’s building where you got your tickets. He had explained that the lake was a little outside of London and taking the train would be the fastest way.

Once you got off the train it was only a five-minute walk until you were able to spot the lake. It was surrounded by a park-like setting with a playground, a children’s pool, barbeques, picnic tables, and changing facilities.

Wesley led you away from the facilities to an area almost at the end of the lake underneath a huge tree. It was the perfect size and even lent some shade so you wouldn’t be completely exposed to the sun. You put down the cool box close to where Wesley had placed the shopping bags. He immediately started to fill it with the ice he had bought and placed everything that needed to be kept cold inside.

You busied yourself with unpacking the beach bag. Once everything was placed around you, you called Wesley over.

“Where do you want all this to go?”

“Uh…. the half-tent can go by the shore, it doesn’t need to be under the tree.”, he explained whilst grabbing the sand toys and bringing them to the cool box, where he crouched down and placed them neatly next to the paper plates, plastic cups, and disposable wooden cutlery. What the hell is he doing with those?, you asked yourself and eyed him suspiciously. “Everything else, we don’t need yet. You can put those back in the bag.”, he instructed and got up again, hands now on his hips while grinning at you.

You took your eyes off him and shook your head, starting to put the snorkelling equipment and UNO-cards back into the bag. Suddenly, a hand shot out next to you and grabbed one of the beach towels that were lying on the grass next to the beach bag. You knew it was Wesley because no one else had been there with you, but he still made you jump a little.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”, he apologised, balancing the folded-up beach towel in one hand. The towel was a well-used The Lion King one from the 90s with thousands of loose threads, seams that were coming apart, and frayed corners. Back in the flat, whilst packing, you had asked him why he still had it and didn’t just throw it out. He explained that it was the first thing he had ever bought with his pocket money and that’s why he kept it. Then he wanted to impose an ancient Princess Belle beach towel on you which he explained belonged to his older sister. You had declined his offer politely with your nose scrunched up while he was laughing his arse off. You ended up opting for a simple one with a pretty shell pattern.

Grinning you accepted his apology. He then smiled at you softly, turned around, and placed his towel on the ground a little further away from you, making himself comfortable.

You decided to place yours next to the beach bag and took off your shirt and shorts and stowed them away in it, leaving you dressed in only your bikini and the sunglasses on your nose. Just as you wanted to lie down on your towel, a shirt was thrown at you followed by the word catch!

“Christ, Wesley!”, you exclaimed in feigning frustration. Picking up the shirt and scrunching it up in your hands, you got into position to throw it back at him when he held his hands up in surrender. Instead of going through with it, you let it drop into the bag and stuck out your tongue at him. He mirrored your childish gesture while laughing wildly before he planted his bum back on his towel. Laughing almost maniacally yourself, you finally lay down on your back to soak up some rays of your own.

---

Joe joined Wesley and you shortly before 3:00 pm. You saw him slowly approaching. He was dressed to the nines in slacks and a dress shirt. He had ditched his suit jacket, which now hung limply from his arm. In his other arm he held his own towel, swimming trunks, and a bottle of sunscreen. As he was passing by you, he looked you up and down over the rim of his sunglasses, clearly checking you out. You acted like you didn’t notice but your squirming body betrayed you. Yesterday’s bathrobe incident and his very obvious arousal because of it was still fresh on your mind, so you tried to cover yourself up a little. Joe though, picked up on your movements and grinned to himself as he made his way over to Wesley, who had his ear-buds in. He bent down to his knees and flicked his best mate’s nose with his fingers and pat him on his shoulder. Wesley, acting like the nose flick had hurt him immensely, flipped him off before he pushed away a giggling Joe who stood up again and made his way back to you.

“Hi.”, he greeted you as he placed his towel right next to you.

“Hi.”, you replied, smiling., “You look like you just came from a photoshoot...”, you continued, sitting up a little whilst pointing at his attire.

“Well.”, he said, “I actually just came from one...and an interview also. May I put my things in here as well?” He held up the beach bag in his hands.

“Ohhh...right. I keep forgetting what your actual job is… sorry. And yes, you may. It’s Wesley’s bag after all.”

He thanked you, stuffed his jacked inside, and placed it back on the ground.

“I’m going to get changed real quick.”, he stated and pointed towards the facilities, “I’ll be back in a second.”

Before you could answer him, he took off and disappeared into the changing room. You lay back down again and studied the tree’s foliage above you for a little bit before you turned your head towards Wesley. Eyes closed, he seemed like he was totally engrossed in his music or whatever media he was consuming. Since you didn’t want to bother him, you turned your head in the other direction and kept your eyes on the door, which Joe had just gone through.

After about three minutes, not that you had counted, he stepped out into the sunlight again. Bare-chested, swimming trunks on, and sunglasses covering his eyes, he strolled over to you.

As you were gawking at him, your almost-collision in front of his bathroom on Saturday morning crept back into your mind, making your face heat up again. As he got closer you couldn’t help but stare at his groin. Luckily, he had a towel around his waist that day, otherwise you would have probably fainted on the spot because he was packing. As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t tear your gaze from him. You fortunately were wearing sunglasses, so your ogling wasn’t that obvious…at least you hoped it wasn’t.

As Joe approached you, he threw his clothes haphazardly on the bag and his bottle of sunscreen on his towel. Then he sat down on it and turned to you.

“My eyes are up here.”, he declared, grinning at you. You slowly peeled your eyes from the lower part of his body and lifted your head up to his face. Motherfucker, how did he even notice?, you thought almost panicky, while the heat that threatened to creep up your neck to your face now did exactly that.

“I could see your eyes from the side of your shades.”, he commented, as if he had been able to read your mind, which made you cover your face with your hands in shame.

He let out a chuckle and you suddenly felt a hand on both of yours as they were peeled away from your face with a soft tug. You looked over and saw Joe’s face dangerously close to yours.

“Don’t be ashamed…we all constantly stare at other people. It’s just what people do.”, he whispered. “And…some stares bother me, and some don’t. Yours sure as hell don’t. So, keep on staring, darling.”

All you could do was nod and let out a choked-up chuckle. Joe let go of your hands and you pushed yourself up once again, almost headbutting Joe in the process. Joe leaned back a little to avoid getting hurt and you gasped out an apology, which made him giggle softly.

“Uhm…you have some sunscreen on your cheek…here, let me.”, you breathed, bringing one of your hands to his face, gently rubbing your thumb over his left cheek. Your tender touch made him close his eyes and lean into it. You both stayed like this for a while, not daring to move.

“Speaking of sunscreen,” Joe suddenly spoke up whilst you still had your hand on his cheek. “Would you mind helping me with my back? I couldn’t reach all parts of it.”

“Sure.”, you replied, slowly taking your hand from his face and sitting up straight. Joe turned around so his back was toward you and handed you the bottle. You squeezed a good amount of it onto your hands and then slathered it across his back. As you were thoroughly spreading the sun protection on his back, you noticed that he had freckles on his shoulders and neck. A little further down were a couple of birthmarks and moles. Mesmerized by his back, you started to massage the white liquid into his skin which elicited a mixture of a groan and a moan from his throat. The sound made you stop your motions momentarily and you felt a small flicker of lust forming in your lower abdomen. Pressing your thighs together you quickly finished your task.

“All done.”, you announced taking your hands off his back and rubbing the leftover cream onto your arms. He thanked you with a grin, turned towards you, and held the sunscreen bottle to you questioningly. You shook your head.

“I’m not due for another round yet. Wesley just helped me a couple of minutes before you joined us.”, you explained.

“Alright.”, he replied, dropping the bottle onto the pile of clothes which sat on top of the bag. Then he lay down onto his towel and slightly turned his body towards your still sitting one. “If you need another round, let me know. I’ll gladly help you.”

---

Breaking through the water’s surface you threw your head back and with it your hair. The water was still very cold, and you kicked your legs to keep warm and afloat. Swimming closer to the shore you heard someone yell at you.

“WHOOO! YES ARIEL!”

It was Wesley, who was still sitting on his towel, clapping enthusiastically at your show. He then said something to Joe you couldn’t hear, got up, and walked down the narrow dirt path where the playground and other amenities were located. You chuckled and shook your head as your feet found the lake’s sandy ground and waded out of the water. Joe who had moved his towel around to always get the most amount of sun, ended up next to Wesley when you had decided to take a quick dip in the lake. Now he was just putting it back down next to yours and made his way towards you.

“It’s freaking cold.”, you warned him when he came to a halt in front of you.

“Is that so?”

“Yes! Look!”, you retorted, teeth clattering. You quickly grabbed his forearms with your cold and wet hands, and he let out a small yelp.

“Fuck, darling. A warning would have been much appreciated.”, he chided faintly with a frown on his face, and you let go of his arms. Then suddenly, his expression changed into a mischievous one and you started to panic.

“What are you doing?”

“Me? Nothing. Why do you ask?”

“Joe…please…what ar ̶ AHHHH”, you screeched as he picked you up by your waist and slung your body over his shoulder with an oof. You slid down his back, head almost hitting the ground below you. Fortunately, he noticed and pulled you up a little before he started running towards the water.

“JOE!”, you shrieked, as his body slowly submerged into the water. “LET GO OF ME! I SWEAR TO GOOOO ̶ “

Before you were able to finish your sentence, he pulled you off his shoulder, wrapped his arms tightly around your waist and took a dive.

When you both re-emerged you were coughing and spluttering, and your hair was covering half of your face. Joe was cackling like a mad man, breathing hard. You had your body wrapped tightly around his with your thighs around his waist and your arms around his shoulders. To keep you up, Joe had placed his arms under your bum, holding onto you.

When your coughing didn’t subside, his laughter stopped, and his face turned serious.

“Are you alright, darling? You’re holding onto me like a spider monkey.”

Still coughing, you shook your head. One of his hands came up to your face to wipe your hair from it. Your eyes were closed when he gingerly rubbed his thumb across your cheeks.

“I’m sorry.”, he apologised cautiously, moving his hand to your neck and shoulders to continue rubbing there.

The pressure on your neck felt nice and you let out a small whimper as you took deep breaths. When your breathing returned to normal, you opened your eyes and saw Joe’s worried chocolate ones.

“It’s OK.”, you whispered, fearing your voice would crack. Then you suddenly grinned at him, pushed yourself off him, and dunked him under water by his shoulders.

Cackling like a maniac you swam away from him to the shore. Joe quickly came up again and shouted, “You cheeky minx!”, and came after you. To your misfortune he was a better and faster swimmer, so he caught up to you rather quickly. Just as you wanted to run through the soggy ground out of the lake, he grabbed you around your waist and swung you back. You shrieked with laughter, begging him to put you down.

Wesley came back just as Joe lifted you up, followed by Rebecca, Dan, Felix, Oliver, and Jack.

“Have they kissed yet?”, Jack asked Wesley to which he shook his head.

“Ugh, I wish they’d had. It’s annoying how they tiptoe around each other.”, Wesley replied, rolling his eyes. Cupping his hands over his mouth he took a deep breath and shouted:

“Hey! Lovebirds! The party’s full! Time for supper!”

Joe and you promptly halted your movements and let go of each other, protesting Wesley’s collective nickname for you.

With Joe hot on your heels, you stomped out of the lake towards your towel to dry yourself off. When you picked up the bag with your belongings, Joe’s clothes fell to the ground.

“Shit. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”, Joe said and picked them up, putting on his dress shirt without drying off first. You slung the bag over your shoulder and picked up your towel. Then you turned to the others.

“Hey guys! Becky! Nice to see you.”

They greeted you back in unison, each of them had a huge, suspicious smile on their face. You scrunched up your face in confusion and then turned to Joe again.

“Uhm, I’m gonna go get changed. I’ll be back in a few.”

Smiling, he nodded at you, and you walked off.

---

You returned to the group about 15 minutes later, freshly showered, dressed in your shorts and a t-shirt, your hair hung loosely and almost fully dry off your shoulders.

When you placed the bag back down on the ground, you saw that everyone was sitting in a circle, the sand toys and the UNO-cards laying in the centre of it. Confused, you joined them and sat down next to Joe. You looked up at him with questioning eyes.

“It’s a drinking game.”, he explained as he picked up his hand of cards, “You basically play UNO and when someone wins, the others have to drink. The person with the most cards in their hands has to drink out of the bucket, the person with the second most out of the castle mould, and so on…Do you also wanna play?”

“Oh, yes, that sounds fun.”, you answered as Oliver handed you your cards.

After a couple of rounds everyone had a good buzz in. Some more, some less. You were on the ‘some less’ side of the group and giggled at the ones who tottered around after what Wesley had decided was the last round. Joe, who was equally as tipsy as you, grabbed you by your arms to pull you up, when Wesley walked over to the both of you.

“Hey, Wi-Fi. Can you come help me with the food, please?”

“Wi-Fi?”, you asked, giggling, turning to Wesley.

“Yeah. Look at his fucking forehead, man. A bloody Wi-Fi signal… it’s not that strong, but it’s there.”, Wesley explained as Joe slapped the back of his head.

“Shut the fuck up, mate.”

“WI-FI!”, you yelled as you burst out laughing, holding onto Joe’s arm with both of your hands, swinging it back and forth.

Following Wesley, Joe pulled you with him since you hadn’t let go of his arm. You insisted you also wanted to help with the food. Eventually you let go of him so he and Wesley could handle the barbie while you, with Becky’s help, were setting the picnic table which was located a bit further away.

“Soooo, tell me. What is going on with you and Joe?”

Becky’s question made you stop in your tracks, pulling the stack of paper plates to your chest.

“Uh, nothing.”

“Ah, stop lying to me. I can sense that there’s something between you two from a mile away.”, she replied smirking, not buying your answer. You blushed lightly at her statement, and she walked over to you and rubbed your shoulder gently.

“Go for it.”, she encouraged you.

“I can’t. I’m going home soon…how are we supposed to make it work?”, you asked, frowning deeply.

“You’ll make it work.”, she explained, rubbing your shoulder once more. “If you don’t make a move, I will force him to.” Her voice changed from encouraging to threatening in an instant and you chuckled and nodded nervously.

“Good.”, she said as she finished placing the last of the wooden cutlery on the table. Without further ado, she walked off to join Dan, Felix, Jack, and Oliver, who were all trying to pile themselves into the half-tent. She yanked them out of it one by one and scolded them, demanding they all go sit at the table. You quickly finished setting the table before any of them could sit down and walked over to Joe and Wesley who were just finishing up at the grill.

“Hey there, love.”, Wesley greeted you as he placed sausages and burger patties on the platter Joe held out to him. “What were you and Becky talking about?”

“Nothing.”, you replied nonchalantly.

“Hmmm…”, he hummed. “Alright…didn’t seem like nothing.”

“It really was nothing. Just girl talk.”, you firmly answered, ending the conversation. Wesley placed down the tongs and held up his hands in defeat, lips in a thin line.

“Alright. Sorry.”, he apologised and walked off towards the table sitting down between Oliver and Jack with Felix on the far end of the bench.

Joe, meat platter still in his hands, still stood next to you, a concerned look on his face.

“You alright, darling?”

You gave him a quick nod and made your way to the table as well. The only two spaces left were next to Dan and Becky, so you sat down next to Becky. Joe followed you quickly and placed the platter in the middle of the table. Before his behind had the chance to touch the bench, the guys were already grabbing various meats off the platter and Becky chided them loudly, even slapping their fingers away. You came to the conclusion that Becky was most certainly the mum of the group and without her, nothing would get done.

Joe’s thigh brushed yours as he finally sat down, and it made you jump a little. Automatically, he placed a hand on your thigh to keep it from bouncing up and down and you instantly stiffened. Becky, who was sitting right next to you noticed the change in your body language and smirked to herself, looking down at your thigh where Joe’s hand was still positioned. You looked at her and she had the audacity to wink at you. Swallowing thickly, you tried to relax, which you eventually did. Joe rubbing his hand slowly up and down your thigh also helped, and you felt yourself zone out a little.

“…Sausage, burger, or chicken skewer?”

“Huh?”, you asked looking to the person who asked you the question. It was Joe who pointed to the platter with one hand, while the other one still unconsciously rubbed your thigh.

“Oh, uh…I’ll take a burger, please.”, you answered softly. He took his hand off your thigh to shovel a burger patty onto your plate and then helped himself to two of them. You pushed up a little and helped yourself to the various sauces and salads that were scattered around the table.

Dinner went by smoothly with lots of laughter, jokes, and more alcoholic beverages. By the time everyone had finished eating, it got quiet around the table and the temperature had dropped significantly. Joe had even put on his suit jacket again. When he noticed you shivering next to him, he took it off and placed it around your shoulders. Perplexed at first, you eventually wrapped it around yourself, soaking up his body warmth and smell.

To set the after-dinner mood, Wesley had put on some low music to be played in the background. Becky put Felix and Jack in charge of cleaning up and throwing away the disposable dishes and cutlery. After much resistance, moaning, and threatened punches, they eventually started cleaning up under Becky’s constant observation.

Joe, lit cigarette dangling from his lips, was immersed in a conversation with Wesley, Dan, and Oliver. You didn’t really understand what they were talking about, so you just sat there, watching everyone silently.

As you sat there, lost in thought, your earlier conversation with Becky came to your mind again. Joe and you had gotten really close over the past couple of days. The touches, the hugs, the soft kiss to your hair, the teasing, the way he held onto you in the lake this afternoon, hell you even kissed him on the cheek last night, that must mean something, right? Well, to you it did. You weren’t sure if he felt the same though. Maybe it was just playful banter for him. But if it was, he wouldn’t act this way, right? As if he were in love.

Frustrated with your thoughts you let out a deep sigh.

Excusing yourself, you got up which made Dan, Oliver, Wesley, and Joe stop their conversation. Wesley noticed the pout on your face and frowned.

You walked towards the lake’s shore where you sat down on the small patch of sand between the grass and the water. Digging your fingers deep into it, you let out a defeated groan as your eyes welled up with tears.

At the table, Wesley stared at Joe and nodded in your direction.

“Mate, go after her!”, he hissed, Dan and Oliver mouthing go, go, go as Joe put out his cigarette and got up, almost jogging after you.

You heard footstep behind you and looked up to see who had followed you. It was Joe. When he saw that you had tears in your eyes, he frowned deeply and sat down next to you.

“Hey. Are you alright?”, he asked, pulling your fingers from the sand, and taking your hands in his. You shook your head slowly, tears now flowing freely down your cheeks and dripping off your chin.

“Whoa, hey. Darling, what’s wrong?”

He tried to pull you into his lap, but you resisted and pushed him back a little, so he let go of your hands.

“I don’t know what to make of you.”, you replied honestly, and confusion set on his face.

“What? What do you mean?”

“I…”, you started, letting out a shuddering breath. “I’m not sure what you want from me, and it’s driving me insane.”, you continued, wiping the tears off your face. “The way you tease me, the touches, the embraces…your eyes. Oh my God. Your eyes. Joe, they hold so many emotions and I just can’t pinpoint them exactly. I’m scared…”, you rambled on, voice barely a whisper.

Joe stared at you, mouth hanging open, unable to answer you.

“I’m scared, because I’m leaving in a couple of days, and I don’t want this to just be a fling. And I’m scared that if we give this a go, distance will tear us apart. I’m scared Joe, so fucking scared, because I’m slowly but surely falling for you.”, you kept explaining in a whisper, still wiping your face. “Hell, I don’t even know if you feel the same. I am really putting my heart on the line here…”

Joe, totally stunned by your confession, scooted closer to you. Then, all of a sudden, he grabbed your tear-stained face in his hands and leaned in close.

“Babe, if I didn’t feel the same, would I do this?”, he asked, pressing his lips to yours. You immediately kissed him back and slung your arms around his shoulders and he finally pulled you into his lap. As your kiss grew more passionate, he let his tongue swipe across your bottom lip, and you slowly opened your mouth to let him deepen it. You kept on kissing until you ran out of breath and both your lips were bruised and swollen.

He reluctantly pulled back and grinned against your lips, wiping away the last of your tears with his thumbs.

“You’re such an idiot for ever thinking I wouldn’t feel the same.”, he whispered against your lips, pecking them softly. “A total and utter idiot.”, peck. “The biggest idiot of all idiots.”, peck.

“I got it, I’m an idiot.”, you giggled against his lips between pecks.

“FUCKING FINALLY!”

Wesley was shouting, pumping his fist into the air whilst the others where whooping and hollering behind him.

Joe lifted his hand and flipped them the bird before he leaned in to capture your lips with his once more.

---

Taglist:

@ohmeg @daleyeahson @lma1986 @palomahasenteredthechat @mandyjo8719 @aysheashea @eddiebaemunson @xlilithb @freakymunson @sidthedollface2 @i-wont-run-this-time @plk-18 @avatarghost666 @kylakins88 @deadspellz @thehillzhaveeyez @kayleeelena97 @foreverjosephquinn @punctualhowell @icallhimjoey @ghostinthebackofyourhead @siriuslysmoking @hollster88 @cancankiki @definitionwanderlust @eriancrow

the ones who are crossed out are the ones I can’t tag, soz

#joseph quinn #Joe Quinn #joseph quinn fanfic #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn x y/n #Joe Quinn x reader #joe quinn fanfic #joe quinn x y/n #joe quinn fanfiction #rpf #love is in the air(bnb)

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ughgoaway · 1 year ago

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okay, wait, the teacher reader x dad matty brain rot might have progressed....

I'm imagining you're a year 1 teacher (5-6 year old kids for international folk). The kids are young, and you just love watching them grow and develop into little people. anyway, maybe you have a fav little girl. She's really sweet and does drawings of her family. except instead of the usual mummy and daddy, her family photos consist of 4 men holding various musical instruments...

you decide to talk to her parents after school, just to make sure she knows her family isn't 4 men in leather jackets. so you go into the playground and ask her to point out her mummy or daddy she smiles and points at the corner of the playground, and you look up expecting to see her mum. only to be met with the sight of a man with tattoos snaking up his arms, wild curly hair, smoking a cig with one hand and a can of coke in the other.

you walk up hand in hand with the little girl, trying desperately not to stare too hard at the ridiculously attractive man but also trying not to walk blindly and trip over your own feet. eventually, you walk up and smile at him. He smiles back and takes his sunglasses off, takes one last drag of his cig, and crushes it under his boots.

he introduces himself, matty. you repeat his name back to him like an idiot whilst he stares waiting for your name. Eventually, his little girl says, "This is Miss y/n! she wants to show you my drawing!!"

matty picks her up and says, "Oh wow, munchkin, is your drawing that amazing!? Is Miss y/n going to send it to alllllll the museums?" whilst she's giggling as he presses kisses all over her face.

you bring up your concerns only to be laughed at by matty. At first, you look slightly offended only for him to start stuttering apologies and explaining himself. maybe he touches your arm lightly as he's explaining, and you fight to stay focused on his words rather than his featherlight touch up your forearm. he notices your slightly flustered state but mercifully leaves you alone.

as he walks away, you clock all the mums watching him leave. Maybe he throws you a wink just before he leaves the gate. the teacher from the year below you comes up from behind you, ready to gush about how hot he is, but you insit you need to remain professional and storm off.

you eventually get back to your desk and just sit and stare for a bit... thinking about how he is definitely a dilf, and you definitely can not pursue any of the thoughts you are currently having...

SORRY FOR TALKING SO MUCH I JUST CANT STOP

(edit I caved and wrote a full fic of this... read here if you are interested lol)

#like i hate children but GIRL DAD MATTY IS JUST MWUAH #like i have so many thoughts about this #but i cannot have another work in progress #or can i....#depends if anyone likes this lol #writing maybe??#teacher au!

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james-sunshine-potter · 2 years ago

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All the many things and quirks of Steve Harrington:

A list comprised by Eddie Munson.

> He can’t sleep in the dark. He has to have at least a lamp on before going to bed. He nor I are sure what that stems from. (It bugged me at first I can’t lie, but we tried one night to keep all lights off… and Steve didn’t sleep at all, he just laid there awake for 12 hours. TWELVE FUCKING HOURS AND THEN HE WENT TO WORK ON NO SLEEP! it’s safe to say we kept the lamp on after that…)

> He doesn’t like it when the sun is in his eyes. He carries his sunglasses everywhere and will get annoyed when he forgets them in the car.

> He can only eat one thing on his plate at a time. Like if he’s got chicken, salad and chips, he’ll eat the chips in one go, then the chicken and then the salad. Things can’t mixed nor touch.

> He likes it when I stroke his hair whilst he falls asleep. He doesn’t even realise I do this, as he goes on and on about how he falls asleep better when sleeping with me. But it’s because I have learnt how to make him relaxed. (I also really like his hair. It’s so soft, like ridiculously soft. It’s meant to be petted, sue me).

> He opens his mouth when he thinks. Some days I want to stick my finger in his mouth when he does that to see what he will do but I never do (I will one day).

> He’ll talk to old people on the street. But only if they start the conversation, obviously. God, old people love him. He opens doors for old lady’s and compliments their hair and fashion. He’s very polite.

> When he is uncomfortable, he’ll play with my rings. We once had a sit down conversation with his parents (don’t ask, it was horrible) but the entire time, Steve held my hand in his lap and played with my rings (still on my fingers) until my skin was sore. (I don’t mind).

> He has to sleep with the door closed. He physically can’t sleep with the door open. Like physically can’t. Or even be in his bedroom, or mine, without the door closed. (He doesn’t feel secure otherwise, which knowing what goes down in this town, i completely get).

> He exclusively wears boxers. Calvin Klein ones to be specific. When he stretched or reached up for something, you could see the waist band peak out the top. Wears boxer shorts (loose fitting ones you know) to sleep in.

> He zones out a lot more than he thinks he does. He says he doesn’t do it that often, but he just can’t bloody remember it! He’s zoned out through entire conversations and movies. (Thankfully he’s never done it behind the wheel…).

> He watches fights he’s not involved like it’s a tennis match.

> He hums whilst brushing his teeth. (Typically whatever is stuck in his head at the time).

> He slightly rocks when he trying to focus on something. (I noticed this when he was trying to focus on a movie we were watching, but he kept getting distracted).

> He squints, even when he wears his glasses (Which I have to bully him to do).

> He picks at the skin around his nails when nervous. I have physically hold his hand to stop him. (Which, obviously, I don’t mind. But man, you should see hims fingernails they’re gross…).

> He pees like clockwork. He gets up at the say time in the night to pee. I can tell when he’s properly exhausted if he sleeps through it. (It’s 3am by the way).

> He doesn’t have nosebleeds often, but when they happen, oh do they happen. Blood gets everywhere, like lots of blood where it’s concerning. He went through an entire box of tissues and ruined a top once. He nearly fainted once (like wobbly steps, foggy eyes, went white as fuck… scary as shit).

> He can’t listen to something and count or read at the same time. If he needs to count something and has the radio on, he’ll turn it off, count out aloud and then turn it back on. If I show him something, I can’t talk until he finishes reading it or otherwise he won’t take it in. (I’m totally the same though).

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eleanorfenyxwrites · 1 month ago

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The Man From Y.I.L.I.N.G.

Chapter 15: "U.N.C.L.E. (Epilogue)

Final main fic chapter! Keep an eye out for the extras we just can't help but write 😂😅

--//--

MONACO

The air is different here.

Sitting calmly by the ocean on a private white-sand beach 12 hours a day for the past few weeks may have a little something to do with that observation, Jin Guangyao is willing to grant. Maybe the air here is no fresher, no lighter, no cleaner than that of Jinlintai, or Yiling, or Yunping, or anywhere else he’s at least passingly familiar with. Maybe there’s nothing much different about it at all.

But it feels different. He feels like he could be different, too.

Not in every way, of course. And not even, probably, in any ways that matter. His fingers had started itching the second they’d arrived at their resort absolutely packed to the gills with the obscenely wealthy all showing off for each other. He’s glad that he’d indulged in a bit of light lifting on their way through the lobby to check in, because as it turns out the obscenely wealthy were all swanning through the lobby in something of a quiet uproar — they’d just been informed that the resort was completely booked out, utterly unavoidable, apologies for the inconveniences, off you go.

Jin Guangyao had nearly laughed in their faces on their way out the beautifully ornate front doors.

He’s also only gone on one very respectable, very demure, single mission in the weeks since they arrived, and it hadn’t even been a challenging one at that. Conning four very drunk, very rich men out of every penny they own at a poker game hardly counts as a mission in his books, after all, considering he’d walked into that 4-million-franc buy-in game knowing he was going to trounce them and how, and he’d thoroughly enjoyed doing it.

So he’s really still the same man at his core; it isn’t his fault that the difference is that now it all rings a little hollow without the voices he’d most like to hear chiding him for it whilst not making any real move to stop him doing whatever he wants to do.

So. Monaco feels different.

“Not swimming either today, A-Yao?” Qin Su asks. She settles into the chair next to him with a happy sigh, half in the shade of a white silk umbrella with her legs stuck out in front of her to slide her feet through the warm sand.

“Not today, no.” Jin Guangyao slides his own feet down far enough into the sand to hit the cooler layer beneath what’s been warmed by the sun and tells himself that he doesn’t feel the phantom of Nie Mingjue’s waterlogged weight in his arms, shuddering and trying to cough quietly enough not to get them caught by the Jiangs.

“Hm. Yu-didi’s having fun, at least.”

Jin Guangyao follows her gaze easily enough despite her chunky sunglasses; they’re the only ones on the beach, of course Mo Xuanyu is easy to find where he’s splashing around in the waist-deep water, jumping to catch each wave that rolls in, with a cackling laugh echoing over the water back to them every time he resurfaces after gets bowled over.

“Out of all of us, he deserves it the most.”

“He’s such a good kid,” she sighs, “I’m happy to see him acting like one.”

The ‘in spite of it all’ lingers unspoken between the two of them; there’s no need to say it aloud when they’re both so clearly thinking it. Jin Guangyao thinks that if he’s done one thing right in his life, at least, it’s been taking care of his little brother the best that he can since discovering his existence. He hadn’t been able to shield him from everything that happened in Jinlintai, but thankfully what he was exposed to doesn’t seem to have ruined him entirely. Whether or not the same can be said for Jin Guangyao himself remains to be seen, but he’s not nearly as concerned about that.

“Are you alright, A-Yao?” Qin Su presses, gentle but insistent, and Jin Guangyao finds that the smile he turns to offer her doesn’t sit right on his face.

“I’m fine. A bit tired from sitting in the sun, maybe.”

“Well if you won’t cool off in the water maybe you should go inside for a while, hm? Open up the doors to the balcony, let in the breeze, take a long nap.”

It’s not a terrible suggestion. He’s spent every day since they’ve arrived staring out at the ocean and attempting to calm his mind with little success. That poker game hadn’t helped, counting his 8-figure winnings afterwards hadn’t even helped, and that means there’s really nothing else to be done. Besides, soon enough Jin Zixuan will return from his mysterious errand in town for the morning, which Jin Guangyao suspects has something to do with his inevitable marriage to Jiang Yanli, which means Jin Guangyao will have no interest in talking about it at this moment in time (for what he feels are obvious reasons).

There’s really nothing else for it, then. “I think I will, actually,” he allows, offering his sister a slightly easier smile that she’s quick to return. He gets to his feet with a sigh, stretching his arms overhead and waving back at Mo Xuanyu when his brother leaps up to wave at him with both arms over his head just in time to get smacked down by a wave. Jin Guangyao can’t help but laugh a little and shake his head as he turns to head back up to the resort, squeezing Qin Su’s shoulder in silent thanks as he goes.

The interior of the lobby is a welcome reprieve from the heat and glare of the sun and sand, but he hasn’t gone more than a few steps when Jin Zixuan calls to him from the entrance all the way at the other end. “Oh, are you going upstairs?” He’s clearly only just arrived back from town. His hair is still swept back from his forehead from the drive along the Riviera in their borrowed convertible, which he only accentuates when he pushes his sunglasses up to rest on top of his head. (For a man as awkward and artless as he is, it’s a wonder he manages to pull off casual style with so little effort.)

“Yes, just for a little while. A-Su and Yu-didi are down at the water, our usual spot.”

“Good, good. Hey, listen, you know we’re almost done here, don’t you?” Jin Zixuan asks, and now that they’ve crossed most of the lobby to meet in the middle Jin Guangyao can see his brother looks oddly nervous under that casual air.

“…Yes,” he hedges, “I heard Miss Luo has nearly finished clearing out the worst of the rabble in Jinlintai, and we only promised Xuanyu a few weeks away, which we have nearly delivered on.”

“Right. Yes. Um. Right.” Jin Guangyao raises an eyebrow and tamps down the urge to smile at his brother’s artless fumbling.

“Zixuan, if you’re working up the nerve to ask that I take your place in Jinlintai while you run back to Yunmeng to continue playing lapdog for Jiang Yanli-”

“No! I mean…wait, is that an option?”

Jin Guangyao loses the battle against the urge to smile. “No.”

“Damn. Worth a try anyway. But ah, no, it’s not that it’s actually…maybe…a little bit the opposite?”

Something cold slithers into the pit of his stomach, the last of the lingering heat from the sun leaving him in a rush; he’s abruptly feeling chilled enough that he has to suppress a shiver.

“You don’t…want me to come home?”

“No! Oh my god I don’t know how I’ll be able to get anything done without your help but-” Jin Guangyao exhales slowly, a controlled sigh of relief “-I just mean it’s up to you what you do. You can do anything you want, you know that don’t you?”

“I see.” Jin Guangyao doesn’t agree outright simply because that’s not true, but who is he to poke holes in his brother’s idealistic view of the world? If everything they’ve been a part of thus far hasn’t done the job yet then it’s highly unlikely that he can make Jin Zixuan see sense himself. “Well thank you, I will bear it in mind. I’m going up to my suite now if that’s alright, but I’ll be back down in a couple of hours. Perhaps if we can persuade Xuanyu to come back to shore he and I can spend the afternoon teaching you and A-Su how to successfully cheat at poker.”

Jin Zixuan offers him a tight smile that only looks slightly constipated as he passes him with a firm clap to his shoulder. “Sounds like a plan. Have a uh…have a good rest, didi.”

Jin Guangyao lingers just long enough to turn and watch Jin Zixuan head for the verandah but he doesn’t bother to keep watching him walk out past it onto the sand. He crosses the lobby to the main stairs and heads up to his suite, hand trailing lightly along the elegant mahogany handrail polished to perfection, cool and smooth under his palm. Of course it’s worlds away from the Supervisory Resort. There’s no real reason a luxury resort in Monaco — of the sort that regularly plays host to the Monaco royal family and American Hollywood stars and mob bosses from all over Europe — should remind him of a comparatively rundown old-world hotel in Yiling, but once again it’s not like any of this pining is his fault. It’s theirs for being too wonderful to easily forget.

(He refuses to think of them in more specific terms for his own peace of mind, such as it is.)

Hiding his sour mood is more effort than it’s worth as he climbs the stairs unobserved, so instead he pouts a little (prettily, of course) and trudges more slowly up the marble stairs than he normally would. He unlocks the door to his suite with a tired sigh-

That freezes in his chest the moment the door swings open.

“Hello darling,” Lan Xichen greets in lightly accented English, smiling softly and shifting his weight to cross one leg over the other and looking for all the world like the sort of handsome movie stars that usually graces these rooms. He’s sitting in an armchair in the middle of the room like he owns the place and Jin Guangyao is roughly three seconds away from climbing into his lap to bite and/or kiss every inch of his beautiful face.

Every capacity for language (every single one that he knows) deserts him, so all Jin Guangyao can do is shut the door behind himself and step a little further into the room awash in summer sun streaming through the open windows, gauzy white curtains billowing softly on the ocean breeze.

He manages to find his tongue, finally, when Lan Xichen just smiles at him and offers him a quick wink, but even with his powers of speech restored, “You’re here,” is all he can think to say. Useless, pointless, obvious — but it makes Lan Xichen smile at him so widely his eyes crinkle up at the corners and Jin Guangyao’s heart does some strange sort of thumping, leaping thing in his chest so maybe that’s alright.

“We are.”

We..?

There’s a faint sound, the scuff of a hard leather sole on marble, and Jin Guangyao whips towards the open French doors that lead to the balcony in time to see Nie Mingjue step into the room, limned in that rich gold Mediterranean sunlight and somehow just as charmingly handsome as Lan Xichen. It’s incredible how much the lack of a pained scowl can change a man’s looks, he thinks somewhat manically.

“You-“

Nie Mingjue raises an eyebrow at him when he’s unable to continue with anything else even remotely articulate, everything caught in around the knot of emotion stuck in his throat, and after a moment the corner of Nie Mingjue’s mouth tips up into a crooked little smirk even as his eyes soften.

“Me. Little Viper.”

Oh that’s just not fair. This is not fair! His heart jumps in his chest again, stomach swooping with pleasure just to be in the same room as them again, and he just knows his face is giving every single bit of it away.

“What are you doing here?” he finally manages, his mind whirring back to life finally only to skip straight past pleasure into alarm. “What’s wrong?”

Nie Mingjue scoffs and steps further into the room to cross behind Lan Xichen and settle in on the little loveseat that matches the armchair, knees spread with one arm draped along the top of the cushions. “I told you he’d assume the worst.”

“Mm so you did, but if you’ll recall I then told you we’d fix it quickly enough.”

“Well fix it then, since this was your idea.”

Lan Xichen, his smile still warmer than the sun pouring in through windows and the balcony doors, immediately soothes, “Everything’s fine, A-Yao. We would’ve come earlier, but some things needed doing before we could both slip away to steal you for ourselves.”

They’ve come to steal him…for themselves. That sounds good. That sounds lovely.

“Quicker, A-Huan, we’ve only got a few more minutes.”

“Ah, are you sure?”

“You’re the one who insisted on getting it done early!”

“Of course, you’re right,” Lan Xichen sighs and stands in a smooth motion, twitching his suit jacket straighter and buttoning it closed as he crosses the room to stop just in front of Jin Guangyao. Jin Guangyao’s breath stops somewhere halfway through the process of sucking in a sharp inhale that fills his head with the scent of expensive cologne — Lan Xichen’s fucking face should be classified as a deadly weapon, let alone his everything suddenly so close.

“In a few minutes-”

“Two.”

“-in two minutes, my uncle will knock on the door to this suite and come in to offer you a business proposition. You are free to answer him however you’d like, do not worry about anything except what you want for yourself. Do you understand?”

Not in the least, but Jin Guangyao has always been quick on his feet. He nods, and somehow, for some reason, earns himself another smile and a quick, fleeting kiss to his cheek that leaves him reeling more than anything else has yet. He meets Nie Mingjue’s piercing gaze around Lan Xichen’s shoulder and finds it grounds him a little, a steady anchor against Lan Xichen’s tidal pull.

“The next minute and forty seconds are for you to come sit over here and get your breath back, by the way,” Nie Mingjue tells him, patting the empty cushion beside him and looking him over with a pointed raise of his eyebrow that leaves no room to doubt that Jin Guangyao has been perfectly and embarrassingly obvious about how all of this is affecting him. Lan Xichen steps aside and presses a gentle hand to his back to get him moving in the right direction, and somehow Jin Guangyao manages not to stumble as he crosses the suite to sit down gingerly on the loveseat next to Nie Mingjue.

Nie Mingjue immediately leans into him, his arm stretched along the back of the sofa heavy and warm on top of his shoulders. Jin Guangyao stays very still as he ducks down, not quite close enough to kiss his cheek but enough that the tip of his nose brushes against it, which is nearly as arresting. “Don’t worry, I got the same unexpected visit and business proposition last week. He did the same thing to me.” Jin Guangyao knows he means more than just surprising him with the visit; if anyone in the world can empathize with him about what the full force of Lan Xichen’s charm can accomplish when turned on the unsuspecting, it’s the man currently running featherlight fingertips up and down the top of his thigh and nuzzling against his cheek — like that’s somehow supposed to help him calm down.

“Are you drunk, ge? Huan-ge did you get him drunk?” Jin Guangyao has to ask, if only because it makes Lan Xichen laugh and that’s always worth accomplishing.

“No, Qinghe has just been very very good for him.”

The questions that crowd to the front of Jin Guangyao’s mind will have to wait — there’s a crisp knock on the door and he hurries to stand and smooth down his hair in an attempt to look like he’s somewhat less flustered than he feels. Lan Xichen crosses to open the door for his uncle and Jin Guangyao’s perfect posture straightens even more when Lan Qiren turns his stern gaze on him.

“Did you tell him the details, Xichen?”

“Not yet.”

“Hm.” Lan Qiren steps further into the room and looks Jin Guangyao up and down once, crossing his arms over his chest and taking an extra moment longer than is strictly comfortable to size him up. When he’s finished, he hums again and seems to come to a decision. “There’s news that a fresh little unpleasantness has arisen of the sort that the Lan organization is best suited to handle. I’ve spoken with Wei Wuxian and my nephews, and we’ve agreed that now that you’re all such good friends-” Jin Guangyao very carefully keeps his face completely neutral “-it makes sense to keep the team together a little longer, under my direction.”

“I don’t suppose we’ll have any reason to work together again,” Nie Mingjue had said in Yiling, and Jin Guangyao, for lack of any better options, had agreed and pretended he couldn’t see how upset Lan Xichen had looked at the prospect. And it was true; at the time, he hadn’t seen how continuing to work together would be at all feasible.

But now it’s being offered to him on a silver platter, and suddenly Qin Su’s gentle insistence on him going upstairs to rest and Jin Zixuan’s morning errand paired with his general caginess around Jin Guangyao’s freedom to choose where he goes when they’re finished with their holiday all make so much more sense.

But — “I won’t abandon my brothers. I’m still needed in Lanling.”

Lan Qiren shrugs ever so slightly in an elegant sort of way (a very Lan sort of way, he supposes, as he’s seen Lan Xichen make the exact same gesture). “As Xichen is needed in Gusu, and Nie Mingjue in Qinghe. I believe all of you to be more than capable of deciding where you’re needed most at any given time.”

Lan Qiren’s simple praise warms him as much as it had that day in Qishan three weeks ago. He turns to look over his shoulder at Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue patiently waiting for his answer with understanding in their eyes. There’s no possibility that either of them would shirk their duties to their families, and Nie Mingjue especially wouldn’t abandon his little brother after having just freed him from Wen Ruohan — but they’re both still here, they still agreed to be part of this mission for Wei Wuxian and Lan Qiren. For once it seems it might be possible for Jin Guangyao to get what he wants without compromising his duty or his family.

What a novelty.

He turns to face Lan Qiren again and can’t keep himself from smiling ever so slightly as he asks, “Where are we going?”

“Rome — I hope you’ve remained fluent in Italian. We leave tomorrow morning at first light.” Lan Qiren turns to go and Jin Guangyao pretends like Lan Xichen’s hand isn’t already creeping up the small of his back even though he doesn’t bother to take it away again when Lan Qiren pauses and glances back at them over his shoulder. “Oh, and per Wei Wuxian’s insistence the three of you now have a code name.”

“A code name? You didn’t mention that before,” Nie Mingjue says, stepping up to join Lan Xichen right behind him.

“Yes he’s only just decided, and given the source it’s surprisingly adequate. When you work for me, you will go by ‘U.N.C.L.E.’”

Lan Qiren leaves without another word and shuts the door to the suite behind himself, a definitive click that does nothing to cut through the tension ratcheting higher and higher by the moment. Jin Guangyao clears his throat delicately and turns his head enough to look up at Nie Mingjue behind him, meeting his knowing smirk with one of his own.

“Absolutely hated working with you, Big Red.”

“You’re a terrible spy, Little Viper.”

Nie Mingjue winks at him and Jin Guangyao’s heart beats a traitorously tender staccato against his ribcage.

“Ge, close the doors to the balcony. I don’t believe we require an audience for what happens next,” Lan Xichen tells Nie Mingjue as he finally succeeds in sliding his wandering hand up the back of Jin Guangyao’s shirt, cool fingertips skimming sun-flushed skin. Jin Guangyao can’t help but laugh aloud when both of his partners duck in to kiss opposite sides of his neck at the same time, a quick parting and a promise for more that together make his stomach swoop in a way he supposes he’d better start getting used to.

Needless to say the promised sibling-bonding poker lessons don’t start until much later in the evening, after Jin Guangyao lets his siblings bully him into a farewell dinner at sunset out on the terrace. He spends the entire evening bracketed on either side by his partners in every sense of the word, and at least for now everything feels right with the world.

#The Untamed Fanfic #3zun #The Man From Y.I.L.I.N.G.#Jin Guangyao #Lan Xichen #Nie Mingjue

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astrum-aetherium · 1 year ago

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this post has been in the passionate making for quite some time now, and now that it has finally found its deserved conclusion, i solemnly assure you that it's wholly worth the wait — i am convinced it will delight many. before we start, however, i need to implant an introductory inkling into your mind. picture this: going on vacation or merely indulging in the persistent, swelling summer heat with henry winter. it would be glorious. now that you're entertaining the notion, let me immerse you in the rather enticing concept of vacation!henry. note that this will be dirty — wickedly so. i haven't been able to stop thinking about this handful of scenarios since the summer started — and it's july. my mind is befogged to say the absolute least.

first of all, he would have to shed and thereby neglect his signature suits — the weather, certainly, would be the only insurmountable obstacle protruding his aesthetic, stylistic, and stoic path. he would simply lose control, unable to do anything about the sweltering heat — and yes, much to his displeasure, perhaps, he would be forced to abandon the multi-layered outfits and resort to much lighter clothing (if any at all). simply imagine him in those old money shorts or light slacks, summer-at-the-hamptons-style, with a loose, billowing, unbuttoned white shirt, sleeves rolled up and all. and sunglasses — god, the sunglasses. he would own the kind that have diopters in them, so he wouldn't have to alternate between his prescription glasses and his shades — he would already possess the best of both worlds. this, consequently, would lead to him rarely ever taking them off. think about that.

i want to imagine you dragging him out to a beach, maybe in maine or massachusetts (having forced him to drive you there in the first place via your convincing charms), or even him taking you on a yacht trip with his family as an eye-pleasing, gorgeous plus-one. or, you could always go on vacation together, just the two of you — he certainly has the money, and, undeniably, the motivation (the entire greek class did, after all, want to go into hiding in argentina, although for a vastly different reason). hell, you could simply go on a hike together as well. i know how uncharacteristic this sounds, but help me god — the notion thereof isn't letting me go. it has clasped a mighty grip around me. i simply cannot resist sharing it.

i need you to picture him in his light, airy outfit, hair disheveled due to the persistent sea wind, and wearing his expensive, dark shades — smelling of a mix of sunscreen, light cologne, and cigarettes. so tall and so ominous and yet so unwound, so absorbant of summer's grace. i would falter. i would never be seen again.

at the beach — and i've already received an ask about this in the past — he would be so unassumingly teasing, so that it would result in ache. actual ache. of course, being henry, he would bring a book, immerse himself in it, and not even consider getting into the water. the most he'd do is step in ankle-deep at your incessant requests and physical urgings. in spite of that, he would still be very indulgent — he would teasingly spread sunscreen all over you upon your merest inquiry, help you adjust your bathing suit and tell you if anything is awry about it for the sake of your modesty, whilst also keeping a curiously daring hand on your spine or your backside as you'd lie next to him. he would be reading attentively, neatly seated on the towel next to you — with you lying on your stomach in the sun and trying to absorb the rays even a little — and yet, one of his free hands would be on you. it could even go as far as his digits lightly grazing your glistening, waxy skin; this constant physical contact would result in various shivers arising all over your body and a certain, straining ache striking in the pit of your stomach.

of course, due to the beach being a public place, you wouldn't have sex there — unless you'd sneak out there at night and then consecutively complain about finding grains of sand everywhere — but that doesn't mean the two of you wouldn't relentlessly tease one another with the obvious allusion thereto. henry would grant you too many touches of an entirely indecent nature to be coincidental, including accidentally dragging his thumbs across your pebbled nipples under the pretense of fixing your bikini top. you, on the other hand, would do anything in your power to get him as riled up as you can — you'd carefully flash him on accident, tease him by exaggerating profusely whilst eating a popsicle, and emphasize swinging your hips as you'd walk back and forth from the shore to the water, fully aware of his observing you closely. all these things considered, i think it goes without saying — you'd end up with your ankles swung over his shoulders and him repeatedly sinking into you in the backseat of his car the very second you will have gotten in and driven out somewhere remote. you'd be gently mewling and crying for him to go deeper, his body so hot and glistening and slippery against yours, with the stale summer heat (commingled with the heat your bodies generate) and the scent of sunscreen permeating the car.

now, to the yacht scenario — admittedly, it's something i've been fantasizing and ruminating and losing my mind about the most. i can just imagine him sitting on the deck, maybe in the far back, with his legs crossed, reading a book with his sunglasses having slid down his nose a little. the wind would mess with his hair and his half-unbuttoned shirt, making him look all the more irresistible, even from afar. you would approach, then, lightly irritated with the fact he still resorts to reading whilst on vacation and in the middle of a picturesque lake, or ocean — disregarding both the breathtaking views and you. depending on whether his parents will be there or not, you'd assess your surroundings, and in the case of the coast being clear, you would muster up all of your courage and dare rip the book from his hands and plant yourself in his lap instead. irked and yet thrilled, he would, of course, welcome you with a firm embrace, flashing you a small grin — a grin that would only hide the merest bit of annoyance. his palm would drift across your thigh, bared by the wind billowing open your lacy beach robe.

"how tactlessly rude of you," he'd quip, trying his best at sounding irked, but unable to conceal his utter interest. exasperated and agitated with his behavior, you'd challenge him, "not as rude as your ignoring me all day." in response, he'd scoff. "i do devote my utmost attention to you during the night, however, don't i?" he'd remark, tilting his head to the side and involuntarily widening his smirk at the small, yet perceptible bite mark upon your collarbone, protruding from the lace. that, undeniably, would shut you right up — similar to the cock being slid down your throat mere minutes later in your shared suite as punishment for you having become so unbearably mouthy and audacious with him. in the end, you'll wind up with a different type of sunscreen all over your face — he'd come on it, hotly and thickly, only to leave you to the joys thereof and retreat to the deck again, flushed and yet centering his focus on his book anew.

whilst on vacation in a different country with it exclusively being the two of you, well — this is where we're offered so much potential. no matter the destination — italy, france, spain, portugal, malta — you would be able to find a way to mix his aesthetic interest with pleasure nevertheless, and constantly. you'd go see a library or an old ruin site in the morning (not after a refreshing round of morning sex before even leaving the hotel room), get impossibly daydrunk at lunch, shamelessly fuck against the window or even on the balcony as a result, go out to encounter more sights in the evening, get even drunker, and conclude the night with one last, gentle round with the windows wide open and the lukewarm night air billowing the curtains the same way your whimpers would swell in the silence.

furthermore, you'd fully indulge in all the wonders of sundress season — specifically the lascivious ones. more often than not, you'd forgo wearing any underwear, and make this noticeable to henry at, seemingly, the most inconvenient of times — at cafés, restaurants, museums, exploration tours, beach walks. this, of course, wouldn't specifically surprise, but nevertheless irritate him. in a mindful, protective manner, he would thenceforth try to keep an eye on your dresses and skirts out of the fear you'd accidentally expose yourself — only to ruthlessly punish you for the unnecessary added worry upon your first step back into the hotel room, without even taking that very garment off. by the end of that vacation, you will probably have been fucked in every outfit you brought. his diary, in latin, would speak of the same.

simply put, the vacation sex would be transcendental; hot, rough, sweaty, messy, desperate. you'd be forced to take multiple showers in a day, thereby going through way more bottles of sunscreen than usual. due to the heat, you simply wouldn't bear having sex at home or in your bed anymore — it would be on any surface proving cool enough instead, such as the kitchen or bathroom counters; desks and tables; against the chilled wall. he would have you flushed and panting, begging and moaning, thrusting into you so roughly and so deeply you'd threaten to disintegrate each and every time anew, simply evaporate in the sweltering air.

aside from that, and this goes without saying, he would pose unspeakable eye candy — too good not to indulge in. and don't get me wrong, i love a good suit, but i also love transferring the dark academia old money style to a much warmer time of year — where the light clothes and sunglasses come into play, and you'd therefore have to put less effort into undressing your counterpart. am i alone in this? simply picturing henry in a more summery outfit — specifically with shades on, which is why i keep referencing them constantly — is mellowing my brain. in addition, the way he would tease... so unassumingly, nonchalantly, imperceptibly — all the while anything but innocently. it makes my throat run dry.

i hope this post marks my stance in regard to the endless appeal of vacation!henry known. it's just such an indulgent notion to nurture. after writing and rereading all this, i find i am in urgent need of a cold shower. simply — god. i crave this, carnally.

#henry winter smut #henry winter imagine #henry winter x reader #henry winter thirst #indulgent thoughts #god i love him #vacation!henry goes so hard in my mind i'm sorry #the sunglasses stay on during sx #i need him so badly i CRAVE him #i need vacation sx with him i will be honest #IMAGINE HIM WEARING THOSE SUMMERY AIRY LIGHT OUTFITS #i will implode on the spot #and yachts and shit?!?!? give me that wealth mr winter #need him to deck me out in jewels designer clothes and cxm

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groupiewhoreee · 2 years ago

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hiii! could you write something about izzy comforting his girl when he comes home to find her crying because she got her period?

omg hii! yes, i could :) thank you so much for requesting this! i literally hate getting my period it sucks absolute butt.

Comforting

Izzy Stradlin x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None! Pure fluff, although if getting periods are somewhat affective to you then click off ig? blood mentioned! (Minors can interact!)

Summary/Plot: Requested by an lovely anon. <3

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

your eyes fluttered open. a yawn could be heard from you. your knuckles cracked while you stretched, your arms waving out. something was different though. it just felt off. you got up, noticing a red patch of dried blood stained onto the bedsheets. you panicked, looking down seeing pure, red blood. you headed to your drawers, grabbing a new pair of underwear. you went into the bathroom, quickly changing and putting a pad on to stop the leaking. you couldn't help but cry. tears filled ur eyes while ur nose became red. tears soon streamed down ur cheeks.

you hated getting ur period. there was nothing to like about it. the blood was so icky and gross, having to wear these diaper looking things made it even worse. you wished periods weren't even a thing. its like you and just women in general were punished. you got up, walking to the couch sobbing. tears kept coming.

keys jingled, while the door creaked open. izzy walked in, his sunglasses over his eyes. he lifted his sunglasses up, looking at you now. "y/n!" he ran over to you, sitting next to you. "what happened? why are you crying? someone hurt ur feelings?" he kept asking, questions kept coming and all you could do was cry. "please tell me whats wrong." izzy pleaded, wrapping his arm around you. "i got my period!" you finally said, looking at izzy. your eyes were red from crying. you sniffled. "oh, ah- its oka-" he was gonna say, before you cut him off. "no! its not okay. this is the worst!" you cried. you held your stomach, leaning over. these cramps were the worst.

"okay, just relax. is there anything you'd want? need more pads? food? i'll get you an heating pad." he said, before getting up and grabbing the heating pad. he gave it to you. "just lay down, okay? i'll go get ur favorite snack." he said, a smile peering across his lips. you nodded, laying down whilst using the heating pad.

izzy went up, grabbing ur favorite snack and getting some other snacks you may have wanted or thought about. he placed them down on the coffee table. he also got you a drink. "thank you izzy." you said sweetly. "no problem babe, i'm always here." he said, kissing your lips. "if you need anything else, i'm here." - "can you get me some pain meds? these cramps suck." you said. "'course." he said sweetly, grabbing the medicine. he gave it to you, handing ur water. you gladly took the meds.

"thank you izzy. i really appreciate it." you sniffed.

"again, its no problem." izzy would tell you, kissing ur forehead.

"and again, need anything else? i'm here, okay?" he would tell you.

"okay. i'm gonna take a nap," you told izzy. "alright, take a nap. i'll be here." he shut the tv off, shutting some of the lights off for you.

#request #izzy stradlin #izzy gnr #guns n roses smut #guns n roses #gnr smut #gnr fic #axl gnr #slash gnr #duff gnr #steven adler #axl rose #duff mckagan #saul hudson #slash hudson

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your-divine-ribs · 9 months ago

Text

I’m With the Band Part 2

Words: 2k

No warnings apart from my naff writing lol and Arabella’s attitude (the story does get better but I can’t promise that Arabella’s attitude does sorry 😂)

I’m With the Band Masterlist Main Masterlist

"So... you're not actually in this band then?"

Larry and I are sitting on the balcony in my room sipping on bottles of beer whilst he's filling me in on his life in the past ten years.

"No... like I say I just string Van's guitars and... you know... help them with their kit and stuff."

"So you're just a roadie?" I question him.

Larry looks slightly annoyed. "No..."

I'm enjoying winding him up. "Oh... so you're like the band's bitch then?"

I'm giggling at the look on his face but he doesn't stay annoyed for long when he realises that I'm teasing. "So what the hell do you do for a living then? I suppose mummy and daddy just let you live off them now they're loaded eh?"

I don't try to deny it. I'm unashamedly a bit of a princess and I'm proud of it.

"I tried a few jobs but it didn't really fit around my lifestyle..." I say, aware that I sound like a completely spoilt bitch.

Larry doesn't look particularly impressed but I don't care. I'm feeling a little bored of this already. Although it's actually been quite nice to catch up with him I can't imagine the next two months in this little seaside town which boasts a few pubs and one nightclub which looked like a complete dive online. I'm restless.

"So... when are we going out then?" I say, glancing at my watch, imagining what my friends at home are doing now.

"Well... we've got to wait for Bondy first..."

"Who's Bondy?" I say, draining my beer, reaching out for another which Larry passes to me.

"Johnny Bond. He's the new guitarist. He lives in Newcastle so he's coming to stay for a few days until the tour starts up."

"He's staying here?" I ask, ears pricking up at the prospect of a young male in the house. "You got a picture of him?" I nod at his phone.

"You won't need a picture, he's turning up literally any moment," Larry says, and as if on cue his phone buzzes and he takes a call.

"Bondy mate! Yeah that's right, number 52. The last house on the road. Great... I'll come down and let you in."

Larry's off and I stay sitting in my spot on the balcony, legs stretched out in front of me on another chair, enjoying the warm late afternoon sun on my skin. It really is a sun trap here. I'll have to take advantage of this. I hitch up my dress slightly, hoping to catch some rays.

"And this is my little cousin, Arabella. She's staying with us for the summer." I hear Larry say.

I glance up at the tall figure who's looming over me, squinting against the glare of the sun, my hand shielding my eyes.

Hmm... things suddenly got a little more interesting round here...

Bondy smiles down at me, he's got a warm, lazy kind of smile and a handsome face covered with stubble. His scruffy brown curls spill out from underneath the black cap perched on his head.

"Hey Bondy," I say smiling back up at him. "Or do you prefer Johnny?"

He holds out a hand to me and I reciprocate, expecting him to shake mine, but instead he stoops down and plants a little kiss on the back of mine. "You can call me whatever you like darlin."

Larry clears his throat and I'm aware that me and Johnny had definitely let our eyes linger on each other's for a lot longer than was probably appropriate for a first meeting. I smile to myself as I finally turn away, taking another sip of my beer.

Johnny takes a seat opposite me and him and Larry immediately launch into talking about band stuff. I'm only half listening, catching snippets of conversation, hearing names. Van's name comes up a lot but I also hear the names Bob and Benji. Now I've seen Johnny I'm all of a sudden eager to see the other band members. Apart from Van of course. That little prick was the bane of my life throughout my childhood summers.

I pop my sunglasses back on, leaning back, stretching out my bare legs. I notice Johnny glancing over, completely unaware that I'm closely watching him through my dark lenses. He really is pretty sexy. And he's staying here... I wonder which bedroom he's going to be staying in.

After a while Larry announces that he's going inside to fetch more beers and Johnny shifts in his seat, turning to face me.

"So Arabella... how come you're staying at Larry's then for the summer?"

I pull my sunglasses down to the tip of my nose, peering at Johnny over the top as I reply. "Well my parents are in New York on business so they sent me here. They didn't want me staying at home alone. Apparently I can't be trusted..."

"Oh... so you're not to be trusted then? I'll have to remember that!" He laughs softly.

I take off my sunglasses again so I can look him in the eye better. "My dad says trouble always seems to find me."

"Is that so?" Johnny says, but then Larry reappears with the beers, distracting him.

The boys resume their conversation and I slip off to shower, returning 20 minutes later in nothing but a small towel wrapped around me, barely covering my modesty.

"Christ Bells! Put some clothes on would ya?" Larry cries as I smirk at him, leaning down to pick up the bottle of beer off the table I was drinking before.

"Well... you are in my room..."

Johnny's eyes go slightly wide and he looks away, but not before I've clocked his gaze running the full length of my body. That was the desired effect of course.

"Come on Bondy, I'll show you where you're staying." Larry motions for Johnny to follow him, then he turns to me. "We're going pub in half an hour. Are you gonna be ready?"

"I'll be ready!" I smile sweetly at Larry, then he turns his back to leave the room.

Johnny glances back just before I shut the door and I catch his eye. There's definitely a little spark there. I smile to myself as I start to get ready for the night out.

The pub's small and dark and smells of stale beer. Some people might call it quaint. I wrinkle my nose up as we all stepped inside and I hear a quiet chuckle coming from beside me.

"Not your usual kind of establishment I'm guessing love?"

I turn to face Johnny who has a softly amused kind of smile on his lips but Larry cuts in before I get a chance to answer. "Don't think they serve Cristal in here, Bella, sorry!"

I narrow my eyes at him. "Whatever you think you know about me, you've got me all wrong..."

Larry laughs, nudging Johnny. "Eh, reckon she's slumming it tonight!"

Johnny laughs too and steps up to the bar, ordering three pints of lager. I take a seat, pleased when Johnny sits down right next to me. Larry mumbles something about going out for a fag leaving me and Johnny alone.

"Pint okay for you?" He grins, taking a huge swallow of his own drink.

"Uh-huh," I nod with a smile. “Perfect.”

To be honest lager wouldn't be my first choice of drink... or my second, third or fourth for that matter, but Johnny's bought it for me so I don't want to offend him.

I reach for my glass, taking a sip, trying to be ladylike but not quite pulling it off. Johnny laughs, a low throaty sound, and he's looking at me funny.

"What?" I demand, feeling self-conscious all of a sudden.

"You just got it all..." he indicates his own face with his finger "... kinda everywhere..."

So much for trying to be seductive. I reach up to touch my mouth, dismayed that I now seem to have half of the head of my pint adorning my upper lip. I quickly wipe it away but Johnny's still grinning.

"Come 'ere lass," he reaches over, running a finger just above my top lip when I lean forward.

I'm not sure what possesses me, but before he has a chance to pull away I grab his hand, running my tongue lightly over his finger and lightly sucking the tip, my gaze flicking up to meet his.

"Thanks Johnny," I purr.

His eyes widen again and he snatches his hand quickly away, reaching for his own pint, shifting in his seat slightly. I cross and uncross my legs, my thigh rubbing against Johnny's. He clears his throat before looking back across at me.

"So... Arabella... I'm intrigued about what you said earlier... about your parents not trusting you to stay on your own. How old are you if you don't mind me asking?"

I give him a playful smile. "Old enough to know better... but young enough not to give a fuck! I'm 19."

"What did you do?" Johnny says, intrigued, but Larry's back and he wants to know what we're talking about. When Johnny tells him, Larry's eyes light up with the prospect of spilling some juicy gossip.

"Oh our Bells is a regular little party animal!" He says. "Trashed the house didn't you love?"

"They were overreacting," I complain. "It wasn't that bad!"

"That's not what I heard," Larry smirks, then he looks at Johnny, pretending he's talking conspiratorially but loud enough for us all to hear. "You need to keep an eye on this one, I'm telling ya!"

Larry gets distracted by someone he's seen over the other side of the pub so he doesn't see Johnny turn and look right at me.

"Oh, I intend to..." he says quietly, a subtle smirk staining his lips.

"Benji, Bob! Over here!"

Larry's on his feet now, waving, and I look over as two guys approach the table.

One is tall and thin with a wild mop of tangled curls... and a very nice smile I think to myself. He's wearing a black leather jacket and skinny black jeans and looks every inch the cool rockstar despite his seemingly quiet demeanour. The other has a cute face framed with dark-rimmed glasses. He's also got a head of curls but he's got his scraped back into a ponytail. He gives me an adorable bashful smile when I catch his eye.

Introductions are made all around and I smile sweetly at the guys, sizing them up, my disappointment at spending the summer with my cousin dissipating by the second. It's just a pity that they have band stuff to discuss and I find myself stifling a yawn as talk turns to practice venues and gigs they have lined up.

"Where's Van got to anyway?" Benji pipes up.

Even the mention of his name riles me. Hopefully he won't turn up. Larry starts grumbling and digs his phone out of his pocket but as if on cue Johnny's calling out. "There he is! Over here Van!"

Despite the sour memories I'm interested to see how my childhood nemesis has turned out after all these years, remembering the scrawny, scruffy haired lad who used to tease me mercilessly. I stretch up in my seat, straining to see, when a tall, lean figure strides over.

"Alright lads!"

Well, well... now this must be the glow-up of the century. The years have certainly been kind. Van runs a hand through his hair as he looks around the group and when his eyes alight on me he does a double-take.

"Fuck me! Arabella Turner is that you?"

His eyes are practically popping out of his head as they take me in, and he's certainly taking me in, brazenly so. Every inch.

"Long time no see, Van," I say back, trying to act aloof even though my interest is piqued in such a way that I'm finding it hard not to mirror Van's own reaction to seeing me.

I smile to myself at his slack-jawed expression and it doesn't go unnoticed by my cousin. "Fucking hell mate, why don't you take a photo? It'll last longer!"

Sniggers erupt from around the table and Van finally comes to. He steps forward, pint in hand, shunting Larry aside so that he can take the seat next to me.

"Shift up Larry, I want to sit next to Arabella. We've got some catching up to do."

Yep... this is certainly going to be an interesting summer...

#im with the band #van mccann #johnny bond #fanfic #vanfic

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munsonology · 2 years ago

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I saw the other pregnancy story and I raise you MY parents pregnancy story

My mom is a nurse who works labor and delivery. My dad is well...my dad? He is a former stoner who somehow got a job as a security guard and got on the straight and narrow (can't risk his job if they drug test him!). Anyways, my mom also did not think she was pregnant right away because she is also very irregular when it comes to her period. Her best friend just announced she was pregnant. My mom's friend joked "maybe YOU'RE pregnant too". My mom was like ???....!!!!

Went home and tested and bam. Pregnant. My dad was panicking slightly (my mom's favorite story is how she told him he was so ecstatic and happy and they cried and hugged and after they calmed down he immediately pulled away panicked and said "WE GOTTA HIDE THE WEED" and she replied "you haven't smoked for a year there is no weed" and he just went "oh shit yea" 😭)

Then when it came time for the birth, you aren't allowed to eat or drink anything during. Just ice chips. So her water broke at my grandparents and she was just chilling whilst my dad was like "OH GOD ITS TIME GET JN THE VAN" and she did and he was so panicked he was like "wait how do I get there from here". So my mom is giving my dad directions and he's like a ball of anxiety until he realizes "wait we're in the middle of town now and the hospital is the opposite way". This bitch gave him directions to a Dairy Queen because she was craving a milkshake and French fries and knew they wouldn't let her eat when she got there 😭. He is not happy and is mumbling threats at her but gets her the food and off to the hospital they go! They arrive and according to my dad she "strolls in, sunglasses on, almost finished milkshake in one hand and the other on her stomach, looking like a goddess". And her coworkers looked at her and all she said was "its time" and everyone was like OKAY LETS GO.

After three hours of waiting (labor had started but I guess there are different stages idk like the water had broken but it still takes awhile if its your first?) My mother, my beautiful amazing snarky mother looks at my dad who is now mumbling about how he should have picked something up at the dairy queen, and tells him to get out. YES!!! He is sitting there like 😟 and she says "oh its gonna be many more hours go get something to eat then come back, cause you are NOT eating in this room in front of me". And my dad being my dad is like no I love you im going to stay and she tells him that his favorite local family diner opened back up after it had been closed for renovations. Mom jokes you could see smoke from how quick he ran out of there.

My dad then says while he was sitting at this diner eating a burger and humming, his waitress came up and asked what he was doing there (he did not realize she was flirting at the time but my mom yelled at him that the waitress was). My dad's reply was "Oh my wife is giving birth right now 😃" and this waitress immediately scoffed and the other diner patrons turned to look at him andglares at him! He realized his mistake but he already dug himself in the hole. He paid and left an extra large tip.

He returned to my mom, who was sitting watching TV and grumbling about how long this was gonna take. 8 hours later, j was born

(Ngl I think the story is cute but those are MY parents ljke ew. But I can totally see all the Eddie fans go crazy so enjoy. I prefer Steve but dabble in some Eddie)

Thank you for sharing this! I loved reading it ☺️

I know I said fuck them kids the other day but I really do love pregnancy stories and kids!! I just don’t want KARENS assuming I have a kid or should’ve had one already 🙃 and I found out my cousin is pregnant again and I can feel my auntie’s head spinning around 😭

And your parents are so cute! AND DAIRY QUEEN 😭😭😭😭your mom is a literal queen for walking in the hospital like the baddie she is!!

And the entire diner judging your dad 😭 like they could’ve at least let him explain. I’ve seen some guys take a ps5 to the hospital and ngl I think I’d be playing too if I was waiting around for 16 hours to give birth I’m sorry 😭

My mom made my dad get her fish sandwiches and taco bell 😭 and it’s funny because I’ve never been to taco bell ever in my life. And she had really bad preeclampsia so she was admitted like right after the visit. I was like 3 weeks early so idk if they even had stuff set up yet lmaoooo

#sav’s anons #I love my anons so much #we’re a little family over here

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upsidedownwithsteve · 2 years ago

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Hi hi, first of all LOVED SDMC you truly are a fic genius (also the way you continuously churn out quality content with blurbs and stuff on top of big fics like that is so impressive you’re amazing but also pls remember to take care of yourself). That all being said, I know you mentioned what blurbs we’d wanna see from SDMC so I was wondering if you’d be interested in writing out the billy/Steve argument that ended in the fight?? I’m just curious about how how you would’ve written it because the way you wrote their dynamic overall was really interesting to me! Anyway hope you’re doing well sending you love!!

Hi! Thank you so much my lovely, I'm so happy you liked it! You're far, far too sweet! I hope this fills in that little missing scene! 🧡

Steve was already in a strange mood.

He’d left your cabin that morning with a small smile and no words, slipping into the forest whilst the sky was still a pale purple, the camp still asleep.

He’d ached in such a good way, the feeling that came from having someone climb all over him the night before, the push and pull of bodies against walls and beds and desks. His lips still felt swollen from your kisses and his skin and hair smelled like you, his clothes creased from where they spent the night on the floor.

Eddie had grinned when he’d snuck back in, a sleepy, slow beam that stretched from cheek to cheek, but he didn’t say anything about it until the next day, when they were both unfortunately within earshot of Billy.

For his part, Eddie looked immediately sorry, not knowing the blonde boy was lingering behind them on the trail, too close and able to hear how Eddie had said your name, a whisper about “what happened, what time did you even come home?”

Billy had laughed, stopping them both, Steve turning to find the other boy grinning, teeth sharper and eyes wicked. He huffed out a chuckle at the sight of Steve’s neck, all pretty little bruises in the shape of your lips.

Billy whistled, long and low and Eddie was already gripping the back of Steve’s shirt, a silent warning.

“Well, goddamn, would you look at that?” Billy crowed. “Did she finally let you get your dick wet, Harrington?”

Eddie could feel the way Steve tensed underneath his hand and the silence that fizzed through the trees was palpable. Steve didn’t say a word and it only made Billy grin wider, like he’d found something new to poke with a stick.

It all came to a head a few days later, after hardly being able to talk to you, only stealing glances across the mess hall, across the camp and over the heads of the kids.

It was making Steve’s chest hurt, his stomach tumble in a way he wasn’t used to, ‘cause Christ almighty, he couldn’t stop thinking about you and that night.

And then Billy was walking towards him on the dock, red lifeguard shorts matching Steve’s, whistle around his neck, sunglasses over his eyes and another on obnoxious smile pulling at his lips.

He waited until he was standing shoulder to shoulder with Steve, both of them staring out into the lake, kids swimming in the section cordoned off by bouys and red rope.

Steve could hear the smack of Billy’s gum, the crack of his knuckles as he flexed his hands and stared at him from behind the dark glasses. Steve knew what was coming, he felt it, his hands were already balled into fists at the thought.

“So, was she good?”

“Get fucked, Hargrove.”

Billy laughed, all deep and sarcastic, turning to face Steve fully.

“What?” He pouted, all fake and insincere. “Can’t we have some guy time, Stevie? Little locker room chit chat?”

Steve scoffed, “I’ve never had much to say to you, man, I’m not gonna start now.”

It was the most sensible he could be. There weren't any other counsellors around, the kids were too close - oblivious but close - and Steve wasn’t ready to get pulled into Hop’s office for shouting some bad words.

No. If that was going to happen, he’d make it worth his while.

“Does she fuck like she argues?” Billy continued, head tilted to the side, pulling his glasses off so he could look at Steve with those discerning baby blues. “Did you give it to her rough?”

Steve took a deep breath, held it in his chest until it burned before blowing it back out with a dark chuckle. His nails were biting into his palms and he wondered where you were, what you were doing, if you would’ve smacked Billy across the jaw already if you had been here.

“My shift’s over,” Steve grunted, shouldering the other boy out of the way so he could walk back up the dock, away from Billy on dry land.

Billy’s smile became a thin line, tight lipped and annoyed that he wasn’t getting the response he wanted so he pulled at the whistle around his neck, spun it around his index finger instead and called out cheerily:

“You should’ve asked Byers for a loan of that fancy ass camcorder,” Billy’s smile was devilish. “I would’ve loved to have seen if Hawkins was as tight as she see-“

Honestly, Steve was impressed that he managed to hold off that long. The sickening crack of bone against bone was satisfying - and a long time coming. His fist connected with Billy’s jaw, the pain searing up across the blonde boy’s cheekbone and Steve wanted to grin at the look of complete shock he managed to pull from him.

But then Billy was on him, hands grabbing at the front of Steve’s shirt as he wrestled him forward, pulling him into him before he swung his own fist back and caught him on the chin. Another punch, landing by his temple, making his eyes sparkle and the lake turn a little blurry.

Steve could taste blood, could hear kids yelling, the sound of a shrill whistle in the distance and he managed to throw two more punches at the blonde, snarling “fuck you,” as Eddie grabbed around his waist and hauled him off of the blonde.

Murray was there first, Hopper behind, steaming coming out of his ears but Steve didn’t care. He didn’t care about the pain pulsing through his face either, that sharp sting of his skin being split.

Billy looked worse.

And Steve was pretty fucking sure he wasn’t going to talk about you again. Not in front of him, at least.

#steve harrington #camp blurb #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington oneshot #stranger things #stranger things fic #ask

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hamsterclaw · 3 years ago

Text

Spin

You were part of Jungkook's management team, you know better than most the restrictions and rigid rules he has to live his public life by. If only he wasn't so damn irresistible.

Pairing: Jungkook x F! reader, Seokjin x F! reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Smut, angst, fluff

Word count: 7.5k

Warnings: Sex and swearing

Last night’s tequila roils in your stomach. You knew it was a mistake, but sometimes you just need a break from your chaotic life.

Your alarm starts chiming whilst you’re on the phone with Junho.

It had been optimistic for you to think you might not already be awake by 6am.

‘Why are we even trying to control this?’ you ask.

Junho acts like you’ve blasphemed.

‘Are you still drunk?’ he asks.

‘Fuck. Yes. I’ll be there in 15 minutes.’

You get up, wash your face, take a hot but short shower and get dressed.

It’s time to start another day of managing Jeon Jungkook’s image.

***

Junho’s had the courtesy to get you a coffee, and you nod your thanks at him as you accept the steaming cup.

He plays the footage, and you can’t help but laugh.

‘Really. Why do we even have to do anything about this?’

The grainy video shows a tall, well-built man in a leather jacket strutting out of a club with two women following behind him.

The trio get into a taxi, and drive off.

Junho’s spluttering. ‘You know as well as I do that he’s not meant to be seen doing anything vaguely sexual. Yet here he is, driving off in a taxi with two women.’

You scoff. ‘This doesn’t need a reaction. Any statements or explanations will only be adding fuel to the speculation. We’re not reacting to this.’

You laugh. ‘Also, anything vaguely sexual? He filmed a vlive with a naked couple behind his head. The kid knows how to toe the line. He does it better than most.’

You get up. ‘I’m going to get breakfast. Call me if JK wants to talk.’

You’re sticking your spoon into your bircher muesli despondently at the staff canteen when a tray slides onto the table across from you.

You look up to see Kim Namjoon. He’s looking at your muesli doubtfully as he sits and starts tucking into his eggs and sausages.

‘Hey Joonie, how are you doing?’ you ask.

‘Better than you, apparently. How much did you have to drink last night?’ he asks, low voice rumbly at this early hour.

‘Too much. I need to get out of this job, Joon.’

Namjoon’s one of your colleagues at Hybe. He manages Park Jimin, an idol with a beautiful voice, a flirty persona and the squeakiest clean personal life you’ve ever seen.

Meanwhile, you’re responsible for the biggest wildcard on the books, Jeon Jungkook. His antics have shaved twenty years off your life, and you need to get out of this job before it sends you to an early grave.

‘So go open your café if you feel so strongly about it. It’s better than drinking yourself to death.’

You lift your sunglasses off your head so you can see his cute dimples better.

Namjoon winces. ‘Shit, you look tired.’

You put your sunglasses back on. ‘I am, thanks for noticing,’ you say sourly.

Namjoon reaches into his bag. ‘Here,’ he says, passing you a sample serum from a brand you recognise. Outrageously expensive, luxurious, but more importantly, effective.

‘Use all of it,’ he says, waving a hand at you when you try to give it back. ‘Your skin will thank you. I was saving it for Jimin but you need it more than him.’

You don’t know whether to cry or thank him.

After breakfast, you’re sitting at your desk.

The email you composed six months ago tendering your resignation is still in your drafts folder.

Maybe it’s the tequila still in your bloodstream, but you really think you’ve had enough.

Of this job. Of the late nights and early mornings. Of the lack of personal life. Of managing the beautiful, irresistible Jeon Jungkook.

You open your draft, skim it, and click send.

***

You’re on hold to a journalist contact when he bursts into your office.

‘Y/N!’ he says. It’d taken you six months to convince him to drop the honorifics, and it’s still the most pleasing thing you’ve achieved in your tenure as part of Jungkook’s management team.

‘Yes, JK?’ you respond, hanging up because it looks like he’s not going anywhere anytime soon.

Jungkook, for the first time ever, sits in the chair in front of your desk instead of perching on your desk or hovering over you.

‘I heard you’re resigning,’ he says.

He sits back, eyes on your face.

‘Is it because of the threesome with those club girls?’ he asks.

You laugh. ‘Don’t ever admit that again. I convinced Junho that it was all completely innocent.’

Jungkook smirks, eyes sparkling with mischief.

‘Are you really resigning?’ he asks.

‘Yeah,’ you say. ‘You know I never really believed in all this image managing, JK.’

‘You’re good at it though,’ he says. He looks at you, and his voice is sincere when he says, ‘You make me feel normal.’

‘You’re not normal, JK. You’re gorgeous, talented and super rich.’

He waves a hand. ‘You know what I mean. You make me feel like I can do regular things. The things I want to do.’

You smile at him affectionately. He’s always said that he likes the way you treat him. Your relationship’s always been professional, but you’ve always tried to support his autonomy, and you’re pleased that he’s appreciated it.

‘I drink myself into a stupor most nights to afford you the freedom you deserve, JK,’ you tell him.

Jungkook smiles. ‘You’re all I ever wanted in a manager.’

Strictly, you’re not Jungkook’s manager, Junho is, but you know he prefers you.

‘I’m opening a coffee shop. You should drop by and I’ll keep on treating you like a regular guy,’ you say.

Jungkook looks intrigued. ‘You know if you’re no longer employed by Hybe it means we can have a personal relationship.’

‘As in we can drink ourselves into oblivion every night?’ you ask, teasingly.

‘I bet you’re a lot of fun when you’re drunk,’ Jungkook muses. There’s a flirtatiousness to his tone now. He’s always well-mannered, professional with you, but you’ve always thought you might get on even if you didn’t have to work together.

‘I bet you are too. But don’t expect me to come clubbing with you.’

Jungkook pouts. ‘I’m going to miss you, Y/N.’

‘I’ll miss you too, JK,’ you say, honest. ‘But I’m so looking forward to not being at the mercy of Junho’s panicked phone calls at 5am.’

Jungkook winces. ‘I’m sorry. I’ll be good.’

‘Be as bad as you want, JK. In two weeks, it won’t be my problem anymore.’

Jungkook gets up and to your surprise, engulfs you in a warm bear hug.

‘I’ll call you,’ he promises.

‘Bet you say that to all the girls,’ you say, laughing.

To his credit, Jungkook doesn’t deny it.

***

Your coffee machine is top-of-the-line, a gleaming monster of chrome and pastel paint, and it spits out the best coffee you’ve ever tasted.

There’s a lull in your day around mid-morning, usually, after the early morning rush and the lunchtime crowd, and you’ve got used to making yourself a coffee and having a snack around this time.

Today, though, is different.

You turn as the door opens, and a familiar figure walks in.

He’s wearing a bucket hat pulled low over his forehead, and wide-rimmed glasses, and a face mask, but it’s unmistakeably Jungkook.

‘Hey,’ you say, smiling with pleasure at the sight of him. ‘Where’s your security?’

Jungkook shrugs, but his eyes are twinkling. ‘Guess you’ll have to protect me, Y/N.’

You laugh. ‘I resigned so I wouldn’t have to keep doing that, JK. What can I get you?’

You sense his hesitation. You know he’s on a strict diet.

‘Actually, I was thinking of you the other day when I made a hot chocolate. I got these fancy marshmallows from France. Want to try some?’ you suggest.

Jungkook sighs. ‘I shouldn’t.’

‘Why don’t I make one for myself, and you can taste it,’ you say, grinning at him.

Jungkook brightens. ‘If you insist.’

You make your hot chocolate and guide Jungkook to a table near the back of the café, one where he’s less likely to be spotted.

‘How’s things?’ you ask. Jungkook’s glasses are steaming up, so he pulls them off and sets them on the table.

‘Junho was upset today because I was videoed whispering to someone at the awards show last night.’

You laugh. ‘Were you at least whispering something dirty?’

‘It was completely innocent,’ Jungkook sighs. ‘I barely know her.’

‘Damn JK, if you’re going to get done for things like this, you might as well go the whole way,’ you tease.

‘Like this?’ he asks, leaning forward. You turn your head automatically, and his lips ghost your ear as he whispers, ‘you look so pretty in that skirt, Y/N.’

You fight the involuntary shiver that runs down your spine at his voice and his proximity.

You lean back, and Jungkook watches you, feigning innocence.

‘No, more like this,’ you say. You lean forward again, and Jungkook leans forward so you can reach. ‘Your voice is so pretty, JK, I wonder what you sound like in bed.’

It gives you great satisfaction when he swallows and his eyes drop to your lips.

You lean back. ‘Now stop being naughty and drink your hot chocolate.’

Jungkook gives you a crooked smile and does as he’s told.

***

You’re closing up the coffee shop at the end of the day when Jungkook’s voice makes you turn around.

‘Are you hungry? Can we go eat something?’ he asks.

You turn the handle to make sure the door’s locked and reach for the shutter. Jungkook, helpfully, tugs it down so you can reach without jumping up.

‘What do you fancy?’ you ask.

Jungkook sighs. ‘I’d really like ribs.’

You nod. ‘I know a place.’

You take Jungkook to a hole in the wall you’ve been going to since you first moved to the city, a few years ago. Like all the best restaurants, it looks completely unassuming on the outside. More importantly, though, the owner has some back rooms that he keeps for important clients. You don’t qualify for one, but you know Jungkook will.

The middle-aged waiter looks totally unimpressed by how pretty Jungkook looks but you definitely notice.

‘What were you filming today?’ you ask.

As he tells you, you admire the amazing job his stylist did with his hair and makeup.

‘Did you leave it all on for me, JK?’ you tease.

Jungkook’s trademark shy smile makes an appearance. ‘Do you like the way I look, Y/N?’

‘You’re very handsome,’ you tell him, sincerely. ‘But don’t blame me when the foundation makes you break out.’

‘Don’t you have skincare at yours, Y/N?’ Jungkook asks. His eyes are sparkling with mischief again, and he’s irresistible.

‘It doesn’t matter what I have because you’re not coming home with me tonight, brat,’ you tell him, firmly.

Jungkook just laughs and takes a long swallow of his beer.

‘Drink up, I want to see what you’re like when you’re drunk,’ he says, flashing you another grin.

A beer and a couple of bottles of soju in, you think that Jungkook is drunker than you are.

He’s doing a good job of hiding it, though. You’re pretty sure your face is redder than his is.

As if to prove a point, Jungkook presses his cool hand to your warm cheek.

‘Do you still think I’m handsome, Y/N?’ he asks, hiccupping.

‘So pretty,’ you tell him, loyal. ‘Come on. I’ll call your driver.’

Jungkook pouts. ‘I want to go home with you.’

You laugh. ‘Sorry, I’m not going to take advantage of you when you’re drunk, JK.’

Jungkook gulps down another glass. ‘Next time?’

‘Sure,’ you promise. You wait until the driver texts you to let you know he’s arrived, then help Jungkook with his jacket and hat. He leans over you heavily, breath warm on your neck.

You turn, and realise he’s staring at your lips again.

‘Can you walk in a straight line to the car, JK?’ you whisper.

Jungkook straightens up.

‘Of course,’ he says, looking at you. ‘How are you going to get home, though?’

‘I’ll get a taxi, after you’re gone.’

‘You go first. You don’t have to look after me anymore, remember?’

‘Ah, I forgot,’ you say lightly.

‘Then call your taxi,’ Jungkook says. ‘I’ll wait for you.’

Jungkook watches as you book an uber. He’s still standing next to you, so close you could lean forward and your face would be buried in his warm chest.

You put your hand on his chest, and his hand covers yours.

‘You sure I can’t come home with you?’ he asks. His voice is very low now, quiet, eyes watching you intently.

‘If you came home with me, JK, you might not come to my café again, and I kind of like your company,’ you tell him.

You’re not sure what you want, but you know you value your relationship, and you’re not sure this is a line you want to cross just yet.

‘I’ll always come to your café, Y/N,’ he promises, lips curving up in a smile.

‘I bet you say that to all the girls, JK,’ you tease.

To his credit, he doesn’t argue with you.

‘My cab’s here,’ you tell him.

He lets go your hand, and you walk off. Your legs are steady, you’d never know from watching you that you’re a puddled mess inside.

***

Jungkook bursts into your coffee shop as you’re wiping down the counter.

‘They’re chasing me!’ he says, dramatic.

You’re about to pull him behind the counter when he starts laughing, pleased at his little ruse.

‘Your face!’ he chuckles.

You try to swat him, and he moves at the last second so your hand lands squarely on his hard chest instead of his arm.

He catches your hand before you can pull it away.

‘Would you like to be my bodyguard?’ he asks, flirty.

You shove a knee between his legs, pretending to aim for his balls.

Jungkook’s thighs tighten over your leg. You’ve forgotten how strong he is. Specifically, how strong his thighs are.

You’ve seen him dance. This shouldn’t be rocket science.

You look up at him in exasperation.

He grins, and it makes you want to slap him.

No, you’re lying to yourself. It makes you want to fuck him.

Jungkook releases you the instant you try to pull away.

You work to ignore the sense of disappointment that it seems to be so easy for him to let you go.

‘Hot chocolate, JK?’ you ask, turning your back on him so he can’t see your face.

There’s a beat or two of silence before he replies.

Finally, he says, ‘I miss you at work. It’s no fun trying to stress out Junho when he doesn’t have you to clean up the mess.’

The door of your café opens, and you smile automatically at the middle-aged man who comes in.

You pass Jungkook an apron. ‘If you want to hang out, you might as well work.’

A smile spreads over his face. He slips off his jacket and puts on the apron.

‘I’m doing some training,’ you explain to your customer. ‘Your coffee will be a little delayed, I hope that’s ok?’

You show Jungkook how to work your coffee machine and milk frother. He turns out to be surprisingly good at latte art.

To your surprise, no one seems to recognise him. You guess hot baristas are kind of the norm here, it’s a bougie part of town.

Jungkook stands behind you as you top-up the beans. ‘Here,’ he says, helping you lift the packet to pour the beans in. For a few delicious moments, his arms are around you, caging you between his warm body and the machine.

He feels good.

His voice, when he speaks, is husky, close to the back of your right ear. It makes you shiver, and you can hear the smugness in his voice as he speaks again.

‘Cold?’ he asks, teasing.

You turn in his arms and duck under to get away from him.

You get your revenge whilst he’s practicing a design with your frothed milk. You slide in close to him in the pretense of reaching a cup. For a moment your body is pressed against his, and he smiles down at you, lazy heat in his gaze.

You smile back, moving away quickly when he looks like he’s about to reach for you.

During a lull in the rush of customers, Jungkook helps you refill the fridge with milk.

You admire the flex of muscles in his arm.

‘Stop looking at me like that,’ Jungkook says suddenly, voice low.

‘Sorry,’ you say immediately, wondering if you’ve taken your flirtation too far.

You take a step back, turning to clear up your counter.

You’ve barely registered his footsteps before he’s turning you around to face him. When he speaks again, his voice is gentle, soft.

‘I thought I could do this with you,’ he says, looking down at you. ‘But it feels wrong. I don’t want to tease you, pretend I don’t want you.’

You’re processing his words, holding your breath at his proximity, wondering if he can possibly mean what you think he means.

Jungkook smiles, crooked. ‘I don’t want to push you into anything, Y/N, but I love your company. I want to take you out places. I want to take you home after.’

‘I think,’ you say, looking up at him, ‘that us going out, would send Junho through the roof.’

Jungkook laughs, but his eyes are still uncertain, searching yours.

‘So let’s do it,’ you say.

Jungkook’s smile makes you feel like you’re floating.

***

Jungkook’s sprawled out on your bed, shirt half untucked, hair a rumpled mess, irresistible.

You’ve been kissing for a while, more than a while if the way it’s dark outside is any indication.

He’s unexpectedly chaste with you, seemingly content to kiss, hands an oddly respectful distance from any of you apart from your waist and a few slow passes over the curve of your ass.

It’s gorgeous, he’s a good kisser, but you’ve wondering if he’s regretting crossing this line with you.

His phone is vibrating in his pocket.

‘You should get that,’ you say.

Jungkook lays back on your bed. ‘It’s probably Junho. I’m meeting Yeri’s management tonight.’

Yeri’s a gorgeous pop star with a voice as pretty as Jungkook’s. They’re working on a duet that you’re sure will light the charts up.

You glance at the clock, concerned. ‘Jungkook it’s 8pm. When were you meant to meet?’

His slightly guilty expression gives you your answer.

You pick up your phone. ‘I’m getting you a cab.’

Jungkook cups your face in his hand. ‘But I want to make out with you some more.’

This whole situation of getting Jungkook to places on time is so familiar to you that you can’t help but laugh.

You hadn’t thought that one day you’d be the distraction.

The thought sobers you a little. Jungkook’s had so many distractions over the years you’ve been managing him.

‘Ah,’ you say lightly. ‘So this is what you get up to when you’re always late.’

Jungkook smiles at you. ‘I’m not always in bed. Sometimes I just lose track of time.’

You’re already tugging him upright. He pulls you onto the bed with him, hand behind your neck, pulling you closer.

Your lips meet again, and there’s an urgency in his kiss that wasn’t there before.

He climbs on top of you, hips flush to yours. He presses into you a bit, enough that you can feel the length of him against your core.

‘How long for the taxi?’ he asks.

You grab your phone.

‘It’s outside,’ you tell him.

Jungkook groans, and you kiss him again.

‘Why’d you take so long to get going?’ you ask. ‘We could have been fucking all this time.’

Jungkook actually whines, dropping his head into the curve of your neck. He bites you, hard enough to draw a surprised ‘oh’ from you.

‘I’m bad at time management, you know that,’ he complains. ‘Also, I was trying not to rush you.’

You have to laugh. ‘What a gentleman.’

Jungkook smiles then. ‘You’re worth the wait.’

He gets up, straightens his shirt, and leaves whilst you’re still thinking of something to say.

Your heart is light, fluttering in your chest, hours after he’s left.

***

Your phone pings with a notification. You set it up to update you about any mentions of Jungkook in the media, a final safety net if your contacts or if Jungkook himself managed to let things slip through. You keep meaning to change it, you no longer need to keep track of him.

The picture of Jungkook and Yeri sitting close together at a group dinner makes your stomach drop.

It feels strangely invasive to look at the pictures, especially since it’s no longer your business to know. It’s not what you get paid for anymore.

You put your phone down and busy yourself with cleaning your little café.

The whole reason for your resignation was so that Jungkook wouldn’t be the centre of your life anymore. Somehow he’s still as big a part of it as he ever was, probably more so if this thing between you develops into anything.

You’ve been ignoring the elephant in the room, the fact that as an idol he isn’t supposed to be openly dating anyone.

You both know that.

Your phone lights up. It’s Jungkook. His voice is warm in your ear as you answer.

‘Hey,’ he says. ‘I’m outside.’

Jungkook shuffles into your café. He looks tired, but gorgeous as ever.

‘Did you see?’ he asks.

‘You and Yeri? Yeah, I got the notifications,’ you say. You smile at him. ‘I didn’t read through them though. That’s not my job anymore.’

Instead of smiling back, Jungkook looks serious. ‘Junho tells me that the response is positive. The fans like the idea of me and Yeri together.’

‘So you’re leaning into it?’ you ask. You’re not sure why he’s looking at you so carefully.

‘Yeah,’ Jungkook says. ‘I don’t think it’d be fair to you if we started dating in the middle of all this.’

You think about his words. You’re glad he had the decency to tell you face to face.

‘It’s a shame,’ you say. Your voice comes out light, you even manage a smile that you think looks almost natural.

Jungkook’s still looking at you. ‘I wish it were different,’ he tells you.

You wish this wasn’t happening whilst the memory of his lips on your skin wasn’t still so fresh in your mind.

‘Do you?’ you ask.

‘I do,’ Jungkook says, vehement.

You look up at him, searching his eyes. There’s nothing for you to say, really.

After he’s left, you delete the notifications off your phone and get back to work.

You left your job to allow you to move on, and it’s time you did.

***

You’re wiping down the counters at the end of the day when your door opens.

The tall man who walks in looks at you, and you can sense the disappointment in his face.

‘Are you closed?’ he asks.

‘Almost,’ you say.

He’s about to turn to leave when you ask, ‘Can I get you anything?’

‘I’m desperate for coffee,’ he tells you.

You’re amused by how serious he sounds. It’s 7pm.

‘Sure, have a seat. I’ll make you something,’ you tell him.

You fix him a drink and slide it in front of him.

‘I can have it to go, I don’t want to keep you,’ he says.

You realise you’ve made the coffee in a mug rather than a takeaway cup.

‘Ah, sorry,’ you say.

‘I don’t mind. I’m not in a hurry, I just don’t want you to have to hang around. You’ve probably had a long day.’

You look at him, really look at him, for the first time.

He’s dressed in the uniform of working people everywhere, a sensible coat, nondescript trousers, a shirt, but it’s his face that holds your attention now.

He’s got soft eyes, gorgeous skin, and a plump bottom lip that makes you think of kisses.

‘It’s cool,’ you tell him. ‘I’m not in a rush.’

You turn the sign to closed on the door and carry on with clean-up.

It’s barely a few minutes before he comes back with his mug, placing it on the counter in front of you.

‘Thank you,’ he says, smiling. ‘Can I pay?’

You accept the mug. ‘Don’t worry about it,’ you tell him. ‘I couldn’t leave you hanging. I have a caffeine addiction too.’

He laughs. ‘That’s really kind. Thank you. I’m Seokjin.’

He holds out his hand to you, and you shake it. ‘Y/N,’ you reply. ‘Stop by anytime.’

He nods, gaze warm on yours. ‘I will.’

***

Seokjin comes back to your café the next day, then a few days after that.

He’s paying the bill one day when he says your name.

You look at him, smiling.

‘Can I take you to dinner?’ he asks.

‘I’d love to go to dinner with you,’ you tell him.

Seokjin takes you to a cute little place downtown, where he’s greeted warmly.

‘What do you do?’ you ask.

You only catch part of the answer because there’s a flurry of activity at the door, and your heartbeat accelerates as you recognise the familiar bucket hat, the baggy jacket. The only unfamiliar thing is the way he’s standing close to a very beautiful woman wearing a white dress.

Or maybe it’s not that unfamiliar, you’ve been covering Jungkook’s tracks for years.

There’s a whole entourage of people surrounding Jungkook and Yeri, and that’s also familiar.

You turn back to Seokjin, willing your voice to sound normal as you apologise for being distracted.

Jin’s an amusing dinner partner, sweet and considerate, and endearingly polite. He tells you about his job in finance, it’s never been your interest, but it intrigues you how he doesn’t sound cocky, just sure of himself. He’s a decent guy.

It’s not his fault he’s not the cocky, whiny idol you’ve got used to living around for the past few years.

Jungkook, Yeri and their entourage have been seated in a different part of the restaurant, thankfully.

You insist on splitting the bill with Seokjin. He’s helping you with your coat when Jungkook walks past.

‘Y/N,’ he says, surprised to see you.

‘Hey,’ you say.

‘How are you?’ he asks, eyes going to Seokjin.

‘I’m well, thanks. This is Seokjin. Seokjin, this is Jungkook.’

The men shake hands, and before it can get any more awkward, you smile and wave a hand.

‘Enjoy your dinner, JK,’ you say.

Jungkook nods but doesn’t say anything.

Seokjin puts a hand on the small of your back as you leave the restaurant. ‘How do you know him?’ he asks, pleasantly.

‘I used to manage him,’ you reply.

Seokjin’s looking out at the street. ‘Want to come over to my place for a drink?’ he asks.

You look up at him, the curve of his lips as he smiles. ‘Yeah.’

***

You’re licking up Seokjin’s cock, flicking your eyes up at him. He’s flushed, his dark hair stuck to his forehead with sweat.

Your phone vibrates audibly in your clutch.

‘Do you need to get that?’ he asks, voice strained.

‘The only thing I need to do is right here in front of me,’ you answer.

You dip your head over his cock, taking him in your mouth on an inhale, pressing your tongue to the underside of him.

He hisses out a breath as the blunt head of his cock hits the back of your throat. You swallow around him, and his hips buck against your face.

You cup his balls in your hands as you slide up and down on his cock.

‘Gonna cum,’ he tells you.

You would smile but your mouth is otherwise occupied. You swallow as the first spurts of cum hit the back of your throat, and keep going until he groans, deep in his chest.

He moans again as you let him slip from your mouth. You press a kiss to the head of his now softening cock.

He disentangles his hands from your hair and presses them over his eyes.

‘Damn. You’re going to kill me,’ he says. He sits up and looks at you. ‘C’mere.’

You let him pull you onto the bed next to him.

He presses a kiss to your hair.

‘I get the sense that Jeon Jungkook means more to you than you’re letting on,’ he says.

Your eyes snap up to meet his.

He smiles, and he’s so gorgeous he takes your breath away.

‘I think I can distract you, though,’ he says, and his quiet confidence makes you bite your lip. It’s the same confidence he had when talking about his job, the same confidence he had when he asked you out at your café.

Kim Seokjin isn’t cocky, but he knows exactly what he’s doing.

And fuck, he’s sexy.

‘Will you let me?’ he asks.

You nod.

Jin makes good on his promise, twice over.

***

You look up at the huge billboard with Jeon Jungkook’s face that’s just been erected on your corner.

You’ve seen so many pictures of him, you feel like you know his face better than your own.

There’s been some definite retouching, but for the most part the picture is true to how he looks. The same killer cheekbones, defined jaw, the huge eyes that are facing down the camera, dark pools that are simultaneously innocent and mischievous.

‘Rude,’ you mutter.

You wonder if Jungkook paid for someone to put it up right outside your shop. You wouldn’t put it past him.

Speak of the devil.

‘Saw you staring at me,’ he says, smiling at you from the front door of your café.

‘You’re pretty,’ you reply, raising an eyebrow at him. ‘So tell me something I don’t know.’

You let him in and start getting things ready for the day.

‘How’ve you been?’ Jungkook asks, making himself comfortable as he watches you bustle around.

‘Just fine, JK. Can you get some milk out for me?’

Jungkook obliges. ‘Stop making me work so hard,’ he complains, teasing.

‘Ah sorry,’ you say. ‘I forgot that some of us just coast by on prettiness.’

‘It’s ok,’ Jungkook replies, ‘Just don’t forget again.’

You laugh despite yourself. ‘What are you doing here? It’s way too early for you to be awake.’

‘I was thinking about you,’ Jungkook tells you.

You roll your eyes and slide a hot chocolate and a pastry over to him.

Both of you look up as Seokjin enters. ‘Hey,’ you say warmly, going over to give him a hug.

He kisses you, slow, possessive, before he looks up at Jungkook.

‘Hey,’ he says politely, nodding.

Jungkook nods back.

You let them stew in their own awkward silence as you fix Jin a coffee.

By the time the coffee’s ready, both men’s jaws are tense as they sit alongside each other at your counter.

‘Here you go,’ you say. ‘Have a good day, Jin.’

‘We still on for dinner?’ Jin asks.

You smile, reassuring. ‘Wouldn’t miss it.’

Jin nods to you before he leaves.

Jungkook waits a beat or two before he speaks.

‘Do you like my billboard?’ he asks.

‘This neighbourhood’s really going downhill,’ you mutter.

Jungkook smiles. ‘I thought you’d enjoy looking at my face every day.’

You put your hand on his arm. ‘I was just thinking I know your face better than my own.’

‘Funny that,’ Jungkook says, quietly. ‘I was thinking I miss looking at your face.’

‘What am I going to do with you, JK?’ you ask.

Jungkook runs a hand through his hair. ‘I miss how things were when I saw you every day,’ he tells you. He sounds more serious than you’ve ever heard him.

‘You just want me to fix your life for you,’ you tell him.

‘You make everything better,’ Jungkook says.

You don’t know how to reply to that.

***

You stare, aghast, at the eviction notice that’s been posted under your door.

You’re pretty sure this isn’t legal given your tenancy agreement, but it means you’ve got to find a lawyer or mediator to contest it.

You slap the notice down on the counter and get ready for the day.

Jungkook knocks at the door, and you feign shock.

‘You usually just walk in,’ you say. ‘Are you feeling ok, JK?’

‘I don’t know,’ he says, dramatically. ‘Are you still dating Seokjin?’

‘Going strong, I’m afraid,’ you tell him, firmly.

Jungkook smiles.

His flirtation with Yeri had petered out shortly after the song was released, and he’s been back to his normal self with you since.

You look back as you fix him a drink and realise he’s reading the eviction notice on your counter.

‘Is this a problem?’ he asks, brow furrowed.

‘I don’t think they can legally do that,’ you answer. ‘The building was sold recently and I’m guessing the new owner wants us out so he can redevelop. But I’ve got an iron-clad tenancy agreement, so he’s going to have to wait it out.’

You sigh. ‘It means I’ll have to start looking for a place for my café next year, though.’

‘This is convenient for me,’ Jungkook pouts. ‘If you move away I won’t be able to see you as much.’

You look at him for a minute before you realise he’s joking.

‘Don’t worry, baby, I’ll find somewhere just as convenient for you,’ you reassure him, rolling your eyes.

‘Please do,’ says Jungkook. He buries his chin into his hoodie and pulls the hood up.

He starts telling you about his latest album, and as you listen to his melodious voice you realise that you really would miss him if you moved away.

You just don’t know how to quit him.

***

Seokjin hums as you bury your face in his back, wrapping your arms around him.

He pulls the sheet over you.

‘Warm enough, baby?’ he asks.

‘Yeah,’ you tell him.

He turns around to face you.

‘I wanted to talk to you about something,’ he says.

You wait.

‘I’ve been offered a job in London,’ he says.

‘That’s exciting,’ you reply, wondering where he’s going with this.

‘It is exciting. I think I’d like to take it. The pay’s better, they’ll cover my relocation expenses, and I’ve always wanted to work abroad,’ he says.

He cups your cheek in his hand.

‘The problem is, there’s no you in London.’

You have to smile at his words. ‘Has anyone told you how fucking sweet you are?’ you ask him.

Jin leans in to kiss you.

‘You could come with me,’ he says. ‘You don’t have to answer now, it’s just something for you to think about.’

Jin pulls you into his arms, and you press your face to his chest until his breathing slows and he falls asleep.

Maybe your eviction notice and Jin’s opportunity in London are the fates telling you that your future needs to realign.

***

Your breakup with Seokjin is the most mature ending to a relationship you’ve had your entire adult life.

You’d seriously considered moving to London with him. When he’d said there was no you in London, you’d had the blinding realisation that there was no Jungkook in London either.

You weren’t sure if you were prepared to let him go.

You’re looking through a property site for a new place when Jungkook lets himself into your café.

‘I can’t stay,’ he tells you. ‘I just wanted to let you know something.’

You read through the papers he hands you twice before you realise what they are.

‘You bought the building?’ you ask, incredulous.

Jungkook shrugs. ‘I thought I’d fix something for you, for once,’ he says.

You pull him into a hug.

‘Now you don’t have to worry about moving out, and I get to have you close by.’

‘I think this is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me,’ you muse.

Jungkook pulls you into his arms again. ‘If I can help with anything, just let me know,’ he says.

He’s heading out the door when you call his name.

‘Want to grab dinner?’ you ask.

His smile as he turns to look at you makes your heart beat faster.

‘Yeah. I’d love to,’ he says.

***

Jungkook picks you up at your place. He’s dressed smartly, for him, hair styled, a button up under a beautiful jacket. His earrings glint in the low light as he tilts his head.

‘You look beautiful,’ he tells you.

‘You do too,’ you reply. ‘Where’d you like to go?’

‘I hired out a restaurant, I hope that’s ok,’ he says.

‘Sounds great.’

Jungkook holds out his arm to you as you get out of the car, and you look up at him, surprised.

‘Please,’ he says. ‘I’d like to treat you the way you deserve.’

He looks so handsome, there’s no way you’d say no. You slip your arm in his, revelling in the pleasure of having your hand pressed against his hard torso as he walks with you into the restaurant.

‘Are we pretending you’re just a regular guy again?’ you stage-whisper to him.

Jungkook smiles at you affectionately. ‘You’ve always treated me like a regular guy, haven’t you?’

You have dinner in a private room despite the fact that Jungkook’s hired the whole restaurant. He sits close to you, thigh against yours, picking up morsels of food for you to try.

It’s only when you’re having the last spoonfuls of dessert that he asks, ‘Does Seokjin know you’re out with me?’

‘He’s in London,’ you tell him. ‘He took up a new job, and we broke up.’

Jungkook looks at you curiously. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘I haven’t really told anyone,’ you tell him.

You narrow your eyes at him. ‘Are you dating anyone?’

‘You, if you’ll let me,’ Jungkook replies, instantly, and you groan.

‘Ugh. Please don’t do that fuckboy thing with me.’

‘What?’ Jungkook protests, feigning innocence. ‘You’re a big part of my life, Y/N, I’m being serious.’

You roll your eyes. ‘Are you being serious?’

‘I bought a whole building to keep you close to me. That’s serious, isn’t it?’

Jungkook tilts his head. ‘I paid for a billboard of my face to be put up next to your café to remind you of me. That’s serious, isn’t it?’

You pretend to think about it.

‘I’m tired of pretending my private life doesn’t exist. If it means I lose fans because of it, I’m prepared for that,’ he says.

You lift your glass. ‘Hear hear, Jungkook.’

He clinks glasses with you. ‘I’m tempted to kiss you right now, and I don’t give a fuck if a picture of us gets leaked. That’s serious, isn’t it?’

His face is so close your lips brush the corner of his mouth when you say, ‘Let’s get out of here, JK.’

***

Jungkook’s kissing you before your front door closes behind you, lips warm on the back of your neck, your exposed back.

‘You look delicious, I’ve been thinking about this all night,’ he tells you, turning you around.

‘Jungkook,’ you murmur, tugging at his shirt. ‘Don’t take so long this time.’

He laughs darkly. ‘Don’t worry, baby, I don’t think I can wait.’

You stumble into your bedroom in a tangle of limbs and half-shed clothes. By the time he’s fully naked in front of you, you feel like you’re ready to combust.

Jungkook kisses a fevered trail down your torso, stopping to suck at your hardened nipples until you’re crying his name. He slips a hand between your legs, humming with approval when he feels your slickness.

‘I don’t think you’ve ever realised how many times I’ve thought about you like this,’ he tells you, hands splayed on your hips, pulling you up to his face.

Your legs fall apart as he dips his head between them, licking into you with a determination that has your hand tangling in his hair.

‘JK,’ you cry.

‘Yeah, fuck, I’m here,’ he tells you. He pushes two fingers into you, sucking at your clit, tongue flicking.

He lifts his head to watch your face as he fucks into you with his fingers, strong arm flexing, tattoos a blur as he moves. The gleam of your slick on his cheeks and chin in the dim light is erotic, and as you watch, he licks his lips and moans. ‘You taste so good,’ he tells you.

He dips his head again to lick at your clit with his tongue, thumb pressing, stroking.

You cry out as you cum all over him, and he keeps going, licking at you until you tug at his hair.

He comes up willingly, sliding the fingers that have just been in you into your mouth.

You suck at his fingers, and he strokes at the underside of your jaw with his thumb.

‘Good girl,’ he tells you. ‘You’re a fucking good girl for me, aren’t you?’

He lifts a leg over you, and you suck in a breath at the feel of his cock at your entrance.

‘Ready for me, baby?’ he asks.

You lift up your head to kiss him as he enters you, clenching around him. He feels big, thick, like it’s a stretch despite the fact you’re still wet from your orgasm and his mouth.

‘JK,’ you moan, as he fills you.

‘Yeah, I’m here,’ he says, voice low now, husky, as he starts to rock his hips. ‘I’m not going anywhere, baby.’

He pulls out slightly, angling his cock so you cry out when he pushes back in.

‘God, you need to stop that,’ he tells you, as you clench around him. ‘You feel too good.’

He pulls out, then pats your hip. ‘Turn over, baby.’

You turn over, and his hand smooths over the dip in your spine as you arch your back for him.

‘Fuck. You look so good.’

He’s grunting now as he pushes into you, picking up the pace.

You reach between your legs to tug his balls, and he moans, long and loud. His hand snakes over your hip, arm curling around the front of you as he strokes over your clit. Your fingers join his.

‘JK,’ you cry out, breathless.

This time, he doesn’t reply, concentrating on angling himself just right, just right, until you’re cumming over his cock. He cries out as you clench around him, and a moment later you feel his warmth filling you.

He holds you tight to him as he comes down, cock still lodged in you, thigh over yours. He presses kisses into your hair, pulls it away so he can bite your neck.

You squeal as his teeth nip at your skin.

‘I never pegged you as a biter, JK,’ you say, trying to catch your breath.

‘I like biting you,’ he tells you.

He curls an arm around you, under your breasts.

‘I’ve thought a lot about fucking you, but I’ve also thought about cuddling you. I’ve always thought you’d be soft,’ he tells you.

You turn your head, and he lifts his to kiss your cheek.

‘Can we cuddle?’ he asks.

You can’t think of anything you want more.

‘Fuck,’ you say, worried. ‘Junho’s going to kill me.’

Jungkook just laughs. ‘He’s going to need to get past me first,’ he tells you.

***

Jungkook’s behind the counter at your café, practicing latte art as you serve customers.

When there’s a lull in business, he turns to you. ‘Can I ask you something?’ he asks.

You look at him, mildly concerned. ‘Are you doing another publicity romance?’ you ask.

Jungkook chuckles. ‘No. Can you read this for me? Let me know what you think.’

He passes you his phone.

Big Hit would like to confirm that Jeon Jungkook is currently in a romantic relationship with Y/N L/N. We kindly request that you continue to respect his privacy and to respect Y/N L/N’s rights as a private individual. Thank you.

You look up at him.

He looks back at you.

‘Is this ok, baby?’ he asks. ‘I want you to know I’m serious about us. I want to give us the best chance, and I don’t want to sneak around.’

‘Are you sure about this?’ you ask, coming around the counter to stand in front of him.

‘Surer than I’ve been about anything in my life,’ he tells you.

Your phone starts ringing.

‘Fuck, do you think that’s Junho?’ you ask.

‘I don’t fucking care,’ Jungkook says.

His lips start to curve up in a smile that you don’t get to see, because you’re kissing him, and he’s holding you, and there’s nothing else in the world that you’d rather be doing right now.

#bts smut #bts fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #seokjin x reader #seokjin smut

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