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harrylovex · 4 years ago

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WORK PARTY

summary: you get drunk at a work party and chris looks after you...

warnings: alcohol consumption, vomit warning!! fluff and chris being a gentleman, kissing, lots and lots of forehead kisses <3

a/n: i got this idea from a little blurb that i read last night, i was gonna do this for harry to change it up a bit, but then i realised that chris has been stuck in my mind alot recently so why not write it about him?? he’s been looking so delicious recently i can’t deal i can’t take it anymore ;)

you were finishing getting ready, applying the last few coats of mascara when the doorbell rang, signalling that your friend had arrived.

she was giving you a lift to a work party.

work parties were your favourite parties.

you got on with your work colleagues really well, it was a bonus that your boss was the same age as the rest of you.

because of the fact that she was also in her early to mid twenties, she was pretty chill, hanging out with everyone in their offices, and not putting too much pressure on anyone.

your boss was the one hosting the work party, so you knew that there would be great food, fun games and lots and lots of alcohol.

it always felt like more of a college party than a work party.

you had started at this new office job a few months prior, you had been so incredibly nervous, shaking a little as you went in for your first day.

your boss had ordered one of the other colleagues to show you around and introduce everyone.

he told you that his name was chris, and he gave you a tour of the place, reassuring you when he saw you shake as you took a cup of coffee from his hand.

ever since then, the two of you had been pretty close, you laughed and joked together and he made work not so boring at all.

he would flirt with you also, making you blush at least three times a day. you weren’t complaining though, he was gorgeous.

everyone teased you two all the time, saying that you both looked cute together and joking about the sexual tension between you two. you would always go bright red, smiling to yourself when you saw Chris wink at you.

truth is, you really liked chris, he was smart, sexy and just all around a great guy. from the way he acted around you, sometimes you thought that he might like you too, but you couldn’t bring yourself to believe it.

you grabbed your keys and bag as you hurried out the door.

“woah y/n! you look amazing!” your friend called out to you.

“thank you.” you blushed, climbing into the passenger side and fastening your seatbelt.

“chris is gonna go crazy when he sees you like this.”you laughed, brushing it off.

“no, seriously, i’ll have to tell him to stop drooling and to keep his dick in his pants!” she started hysterically laughing as she sped up.

you smiled to yourself, secretly hoping that chris would noticed how dressed up you were. you felt pretty.

you arrived at your boss’ house after driving for about ten minutes. walking up the driveway, you found the door unlocked.

you walked in, peering around the living room. no one was there but there was faint noise coming from the garden. you guessed that’s where everyone was.

walking through the french doors, you saw a few colleagues sitting around a huge campfire. it looked stunning. to say that your boss was rich would be an understatement.

your boss came running over, embracing you in a hug.

“y/n! oh my goodness you’re here! the rest of them should be arriving in a bit and then we can get this party started!” laughter rang out throughout the guests.

she pointed you towards the drinks cart, telling you to help yourself.

you greeted the others with smiles, your eyes catching Chris’ as you scanned the benches.

you noticed chris rake his eyes down your body and it made you blush. he smiled at you, motioning with his index and middle finger for you to go over to him.

you did, and were greeted with a hug. he was wearing a black long sleeve shirt with some teal coloured velvet pants.

as you pulled back from the hug, you got a whiff of his cologne, and oh my god he smelt amazing. he looked amazing too. really handsome and warm at the same time.

“hi.” you smiled up at him.

“hey” he replied. “you look gorgeous.”

your smile grew even wider. “thank you, so do you.”

he chuckled, placing the palm of his hand on your lower back as he motioned for you to sit next to him.

you perched yourself next to him on the bench, striking up conversation with chris and the people around you.

“would you like a drink?” chris asked you, taking a swig of his cup.

“sure. what are you drinking?”

“vodka cranberry.”

“um...i’ll have the same.”

chris laughed, getting up from his seat to grab you a drink.

as he did so, one of your girl friends came over.

“hey y/n! you look so pretty!”

“aw, thanks.” you replied, blushing. “so do you.”

she brushed it off, scooching closer to you.

“so...are you finally gonna get it on with sexy mr. chris evans tonight?”

you laughed, motioning for her to keep her voice down.

“come on y/n, you must know that he fancies you, everyones waiting for one of you to make a move.”

“i don’t know...” you replied. “i guess i want to tell him, but i’m shy.”

“listen, just get some alcohol in you and you’ll be fine! honestly, have you seen how he looks at you? he’s totally in love!”

chris appeared then, holding out your drink.

“what are you guys talking about?” he asked.

“oh! um...nothing. just about next weeks plans.” you replied quickly, as your friend walked off, winking at you.

you shook you head, making room for chris so that he could sit back down.

“thanks for the drink.” you took a sip, immediately liking the taste.

“no problem.” chris sat down, even closer to you than earlier, your thighs touching.

as the night went on, it got colder, and everyone got drunker.

you felt dizzy as you slouched against chris, pulling the blanket that your friend had given you over your legs. you looked at the stars as they spun, making you laugh.

you and chris were both very drunk, which meant that you couldn’t keep your hands off of eachother.

he had his arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him every few minutes, if that was even possible.

your legs were draped over chris’ thighs, his hand rubbing circles on your thigh under the blanket, squeezing every now and then at the skin to make sure you were still there. everything felt fuzzy and numb.

you slouched into him further, your head basically in his armpit, relishing in the feeling of his hand on your thigh.

he was chatting to someone on his left, turning his head every few minutes to kiss your forehead.

after a while everyone decided to go inside and get warm.

chris pulled you off of him much to your dismay as he stood up. he pulled you up with him, his hand entwined with yours.

he bent his head a little, making eye contact.

“you okay?” he asked you, sliding your hair behind your ear.

“yeah i’m good, just cold.” you couldn’t help but laugh a little, his face blurry in front of you but you could still make out his piercing blue eyes. “and also very drunk.”

chris laughed, kissing your forehead quickly, his hand holding the side of your head.

you hummed quietly at the feeling of his lips pressing softly on your skin for the tenth time today, your eyes closing.

“what?” he smiled at you.

“nothing.” you mumbled. “that just feels nice, do it again.” you ordered.

“yes ma’am.” chris laughed, pressing his lips to your forehead once more, his lips lingering on your skin for a few seconds.

you and chris managed to find a seat on the sofa, squeezing in beside everyone else. most of your colleagues were dancing in the middle of the room, music blasting through the house. you peered around the room, noticing how everyone was far from sober.

you didn’t feel like dancing, you much prefered being hunched up to chris, and by the sudden movement of his hand resting on your knee, he felt the same way. his hand was warm, and you slowly started to gain some feeling back into your legs.

his fingers rubbed small circles on your kneecap, as you slurred your way through a conversation with a friend.

eventually one of your friends came over, pulling you up to dance. you turned to chris quickly.

“i’ll come find you later.” you said.

“alright love, i’ll be here.”

after dancing for about half an hour, you started to feel sick. maybe the ten vodka cranberries you drank had been a bad idea. you turned to your friend.

“hey, my stomach hurts, i’m gonna sit down for a while.”

she didn’t hear you, too busy dancing.

your stomach churned, signalling that if you didn’t get to the bathroom in the next five minutes, you were going to puke all over the lounge floor.

you spotted chris over in the kitchen, leaning against the sink.

“chris!” you stumbled over to him.

“y/n! hey, what’s wrong? are you all right?”

“no i think i’m gonna be sick. can you take me to the bathroom?”

“of course follow me.”

he grabbed your hand in his, dragging you up the stairs.

he pulled you into the bathroom just in time. you took one step towards the toilet and puked into it. all your drinks from the last few hours getting out of your system.

“oh, y/n...it’s okay just breathe through your nose.” he kneeled beside you.

chris held your hair back as you continuously spewed into the toilet, rubbing circles into your back to calm you down.

you shut your eyes, trying not to focus on what was happening.

after a few minutes, you sat back against chris, panting heavily.

he continued to rub your back slowly, wiping a cold flannel over your face.

you were horrified.

“chris i’m so sorry.” you mumbled, feeling embarrassed.

he just laughed, not seeming bothered at all.

you stood up with his help, laughing a little at the whole situation that had just taken place.

you washed your face with cold water from the tap, brushing your teeth and tongue thoroughly with an unopened toothbrush you had found in a cupboard.

chris stayed with you the whole time, his hand in yours, making sure you didn’t have the urge to throw up again.

you were still drunk, just less so. you kept giggling everytime you looked at chris through the mirror.

“what’s so funny?” he asked, joining in with the laughter.

“i don’t know...”

you made your way downstairs, feeling better.

you were about to make your way into the kitchen to make a drink when chris grabbed your wrist.

“y/n i don’t think it’s a good idea for you to keep drinking, you just threw up all your insides back there.” he laughed but you could tell from his tone that he was being serious.

you pouted and he pulled you closer to him, kissing you on the forehead.

“fine. maybe i should go home then. it is getting kinda late.”

“i’ll take you.” he said without hesitation, pulling you again towards the door. you thought that by throwing up next to him he would be a little distant, but if anything he was even more attentive and caring.

you both waved to everyone quickly. they hardly noticed, their minds clouded with alcohol.

chris had pretty much sobered up completely by now so he offered to drive you home.

you weren’t really listening. all the alcohol and vomiting had made you really sleepy. you leaned into chris as he guided you down the driveway. the cool air making you shiver.

chris rubbed at your shoulders as he slipped off his jacket to give to you.

“thanks chris” you mumbled with your eyes half-closed. “i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

he chuckled, helping you into the passenger seat of his car.

he leaned over you to plug your seatbelt in, and you took this opportunity to lean forward, smelling the top of his head.

“y/n, what are you doing?”

“i’m smelling your hair. it smells nice.”

chris laughed. “what does it smell like then.”

“it smells like chris.” you smiled up at him, poking at his cheek. your own face felt incredibly numb.

“and what does chris smell like?” he asked.

“like fresh bed sheets and warmth.”

chris laughed and kissed you on the forehead again. he seemed to be doing that alot tonight. but you definetly weren’t complaining.

you both drove home in silence. the windows down a little to let fresh air in.

chris hummed as he drove, one hand on the steering wheel, the other holding your hand, squeezing it every now and then to make sure you were alright.

you loved when he was attentive like this.

and in that moment, driving along the road feeling dizzy, you decided that you really did see chris as more than a friend.

he was everything you’d ever hoped for in a guy, and more.

once you had parked outside your flat, chris helped you out of the car and up the steps, his arm around your waist the whole time.

you fumbled with your keys, finally getting the door open.

“let’s get you to bed ey? i’ll make sure there’s water and an aspirin for when you wake up. you’re definetly going to need it.”

“oi! i’m not that drunk!”

“whatever you say.” he rolled his eyes, helping you to your bedroom. he disappeared to grab the water and aspirin whilst you got undressed.

you held onto the bed as you got undressed, nearly loosing your balance as you pulled your dress down your legs.

“y/n what was that guys name that I was-“ chris stopped in his tracks, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head.

you were standing beside the bed in a small bralette and high-waisted panties.

“what are you doing?” he asked quietly, his face red.

“these are my pyjamas!” you sat down on the bed.

“sure they are...” chris moved towards you.

“creep.” you smirked at him as he laughed.

he came and sat next to you on the edge of the bed, handing you the water.

“thanks.” you mumbled, gulping it down in seconds.

chris took the glass from you when you were done, placing it on your bedside cabinet. he turned to face you, his hand resting on your cheek.

“thanks for looking after me tonight chris, honestly i shouldn’t have drank that many vodka cranberries. i’m sorry.”

he laughed, “stop apologising.” he said. “i’d do anything for my favourite girl.”

you looked up at him, his eyes boring into yours.

the room went silent and you weren’t sure what made you do it, but you leaned over and kissed him.

his lips captured yours, chris groaning a little from the contact.

his lips were incredibly warm, pushing back onto yours as he deepened the kiss.

your hands went up to his hair, whilst his went to your waist. you opened your mouth a little, wanting to feel chris’ tongue against yours.

he noticed, pushing his tongue into your mouth.

after a few minutes, you pulled back, catching your breath.

you waited for chris to say something. his lips swollen and his pupils dilated.

“you have no idea how long i’ve wanted that to happen.”

you giggled, moving to kiss him again.

you kissed for a while longer, your hands moving to take off his shirt. he stopped you.

you pouted as he pulled back.

“what?” you asked him.

“listen y/n, as much as i want to, i can’t have sex with you tonight...you’re drunk.”

you were shocked.

“come on chris...please? i want to i promise.”

he laughed, removing your hands from his lap.

“i know you do love, and so do i...more than anything. but i can’t take advantage of you like this when you’re drunk. if you still want to do it tomorrow..that’s fine.”

you frowned at him as he smiled.

he kissed you once more, making you laugh. you could never stay mad at him.

“fine.” you hugged his torso. “i hate the fact that you’re so nice.”

he laughed loudly, kissing you lovingly on the forehead.

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lightsovermonaco · 4 years ago

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Speed and Stress: Part 2

Masterlist

Thank you to @acollectionofficsandshit for betaing, your comments on this one were unhinged gold

Word Count: 3.1k

Recommended Vibes: “Perfect Day” by Tundra Beats

Part 1

Your brother was late. Not that anyone was surprised.

“Got the time mixed up,” he says as you climb into his absurdly tall truck. Living in Texas for three years had turned him into somewhat of a country boy, though not enough that he forgot his upbringing. He was still a blue blooded Los Angeles boy, just with a love for trucks and longhorn cattle.

“At least I wasn’t waiting for an hour this time,” you say and sling your bag to the backseat. Deciding to get right to the good stuff, you clasp your hands together. “So! I have some news.”

Hunter grins at you. “You finally found a job?”

You roll your eyes and shoot him a pointed look. “No, dipshit. Better than that. I got us paddock passes for the whole weekend.”

“WHAT?” He jerks the wheel, horns honking at you as other drivers swerve. You grab the dash to steady yourself, laughing at his outburst. “Do you know how hard it was for me to get general admission tickets? How the hell did you get paddock passes?”

“May have met someone pretty high up at McLaren in Los Angeles,” you say, examining your nails.

“Like, Zak Brown? You met Zak Brown?” Hunter was such a fan boy, you had to laugh. His love for McLaren ran so deep he practically bled blue and orange. The only reason you watched the sport was because of him shoving it down your throat for years, but damn if you weren't glad for it.

“Daniel Ricciardo.”

Hunter choked on air but managed to stay in his lane this time. “And you waited until now to tell me?”

“I didn’t know it was him when I met him! He was on a motorcycle and I stopped to help film a tiktok and then-”

“Of course you’d stop,” he mutters, shaking his head. “You’re a sucker for bikes.”

“Yeah well, lucky that I am, cause all I had to do was flirt to get us those passes.”

Your intention had never been to take advantage of Daniel. It was more the opposite in fact; you were just living in the moment and capitalizing on the once in a lifetime opportunity to flirt with your celebrity crush. You had to admit, it turned out better than you'd ever thought it would.

“I can’t believe you seduced Daniel freakin’ Ricciardo,” he says, shaking his head. “You astound me.”

“I didn’t seduce him!” You protest.

"Sorry my bad. You charmed him. That sound better?"

You roll your eyes. "Whatever. I damn near had a heart attack when I figured out it was him but he was kind enough to let me brush it off."

"Well, thank god for your two-wheeled obsession because without it, we would be watching the prix from the nosebleeds."

You laugh and shake your head. Hunter tended to have a poor filter when he was excited and tended to spew whatever was on his mind. "Just watch your tongue this weekend, alright? I'd rather embarrass myself than have you do it for me."

Hunter gives a mock salute. "Yes ma'am."

**********

You'd stuffed five different outfits in your bag in preparation for the grand prix weekend. In theory, it shouldn't be hard to decide what to wear. But Friday morning you changed clothes so many times you lost count. No matter what combination you tried you weren't satisfied.

Finally, you give up and settle on a McLaren polo and denim shorts. Simple and comfortable, but form fitting enough to catch Daniel's eye should you run into him.

You knew you shouldn't, but you pull out your phone to text him anyway.

Thanks again for the tickets. Let me know if you've got any free time so I can properly thank you!

You hit send before your brain has the chance to overanalyze the message. You check your phone obsessively the entire drive to the circuit, only half expecting a response. You tuck your phone in your pocket when you get to the gates, determined not to let it get to you. Daniel warned you he would be busy, and you knew that responding to you was likely on the low end of his list of priorities.

Hunter gets you to the circuit a half hour before they let fans in and you have to listen to him ramble about driver stats the entire time. Normally you don't mind; guessing who's most likely to win each Sunday is something of a competition in your household. But today, you couldn't focus enough to put any thought into your prediction, instead just blurting Daniel's name.

"You're only saying that cause he's into you," Hunter says, grinning savagely. "He struggles in Austin and you know it."

"So? He's in a McLaren this year. You saw his pace in Bahrain, and that was with a damaged floor! He'll podium for sure." You cross your arms and return his grin. "Besides, he's motivated."

"Oh, is he?"

"I told him I'd buy the winner of the United States grand prix a drink. Up to him whether it's him or Verstappen."

"Oh my god you have a date with Daniel Ricciardo?"

"Dude, chill out. It's not set in stone. Honestly, he's probably forgotten that I exist."

"Has he texted you?"

You glance down at your phone and are greeted with an empty inbox. "No. Not after the initial time so I could have his number." You shrug and pick an invisible piece of lint from your arm. "But he said he'd be too busy anyway."

"Guess we'll see once we get to will call, huh? If he's forgotten about you."

"Yeah." An odd feeling rolls through you. It feels a bit like nerves mixed with hope, but you stamp down on it. You were here to enjoy yourself. The trip of a lifetime had been handed to you on a golden platter and you were wont to let something as trivial as nervousness ruin it.

Bells chime as you step into the blissfully cool will call office. A blonde woman with a bit too much blush dusted on her cheeks greets you with a smile.

"What can I do for you?"

"Picking up some tickets that were left for me by a driver?" You try, unsure of the proper procedure. "I don't have a paper or anything."

She waves a hand in the air as if she expected as much. "All I need is your identification. They should be under the name."

"Oh uh, of course." You motion for Hunter to hand over your wallet and show the woman your driver's license.

"Great. Wait here and I'll grab those for you."

You drum your fingers on the desk while waiting for her to return. After what feels like ages she re-emerges empty handed.

"I'm not seeing anything here with your name on it," she says, her plastic smile at odds with her sincerity. "I'm afraid your tickets aren't valid until Sunday."

"Can you double check? Daniel said they'd be here-"

"So sorry. There's no record of anyone dropping tickets off for you."

You blink, holding your tongue in the face of her blunt response. "Okay. I guess ill try and get it sorted out."

Hunter breaks the tension. "Can't you call him?"

"I can't just call him, I'm sure he's busy."

"Either that or we don't get in. Just do it, he gave you his number and specifically told you to let him know if there were any problems, didn't he?"

Yes he had, but that didn't mean you wanted to disturb him. He was probably knees deep in some sort of race weekend press conference or drivers meeting and heaven forbid you interrupt. But it was either that or you slink home disappointed and empty handed.

"Fine," you grumble, pulling out your phone with deliberate slowness. Hunter crosses his arms and tips his head to the side, a smile playing on his lips.

"Well?"

"It's dialing, you good for nothing busybody-"

"I was wondering how long it would take you to call," Daniel answers, voice radiating sunshine.

You cut right to the chase, not giving yourself a single second to evaluate how your heart skips. "Look, I don't wanna distract you on a race weekend but I'm at will call and they're telling me they can't find any passes left for me."

"Let me guess," he starts, raising his voice to be heard over the pneumatic tools in the background, "You're dealing with Jenny?"

Your eyes fall to the name on the woman's lanyard. She shifts under your gaze like she knew exactly who you were on the phone with. "Yep. Spot on."

"Kinda figured she would be a problem. She's got a huge crush on me and does this every time."

You fight back the strange sensation his offhand comment brings to the surface. "Oh, really?"

"I'll be right there. Give me ten minutes or so."

"Oh you don't have to-"

"Hey, no big deal. I gotta go that way anyway."

"Uh, okay. See you soon?"

"Yup. On my way."

You hang up and stare down at the phone, stunned.

"Well?" Hunter asks.

"I guess he's coming here to sort it out himself."

He blinks rapidly and shakes his head. "Hold on. Are you telling me that I get to meet Daniel? Like right now?"

"Can you relax?" You laugh lightly. "Honestly you're gonna freak him out."

"Uh, yeah sure. No big deal, just meeting one of my favorite drivers in the minus five minutes and I'm completely unprepared. It's fine."

If you roll your eyes any harder they'd pop out of your head. "Relax. He's laid back, but I don't want you to freak out and embarrass us both."

"Excuse me," Jenny breaks in, her distaste clear. "Please move aside if you're not picking up passes."

"Er, yeah. Sorry." You shuffle awkwardly off to the side to wait. Cheesy elevator music plays and Jenny shoots you glares until the door squeaks open and the human incarnation of the sun steps inside. Your breathing stutters when the Australian shoots you a wink and a grin before sauntering up to the counter.

"Why hello there Jen," he says, and she giggles coyly.

"Hi Daniel." She lays a hand on his forearm, the touch light and flirty. "What can I help you with?"

Daniel leans into her, whispering conspiratorially. Whatever he says has her bold smile faltering, replaced by a mask of professional cheer. Daniel shoots you another wink as the woman retreats to a back room, returning moments later with your supposedly missing passes.

"Thank you," Daniel says sweetly, taking them from her and turning to you. "I think these are yours."

"Thanks." You take the passes and hand one off to your awestruck brother. You nudge him and he comes to his senses in time to shake the hand Daniel sticks out.

"You must be the brother," he says. "I see you're a fan."

Dressed head to toe in McLaren colors, there was no other conclusion for Daniel to draw. For once your brother is the one stunned into silence so you answer for him, "Yeah, only a little. He was crushed when you left Red Bull cause Max is his other favorite driver and now he has to split his loyalties between teams."

Dan's laugh snaps Hunter out of his trance. "I know you're busy but do you think you can sign something for me?"

"Of course. How about this?" Daniel snatches the hat from Hunter's head and produces a sharpie from his pocket, signing the brim with practiced efficiency.

"He'll be texting the group chat about that as soon as you're gone," you tell Daniel who laughs along with you.

Heat rises to your cheeks as Daniel's assessing gaze sweeps you from head to toe. "McLaren orange looks good on you."

Channeling his easy confidence you flash him a grin. "Not as good as it looks on you."

He smooths the hem of his soft shell jacket, smile turning bashful. "Anyway. I gotta run. See you Sunday after I win!"

Your eyes follow him as he jogs back through the paddock until he's swallowed by the crowd. You sigh, shifting your weight from foot to foot. God, he was gorgeous. And he had such a big heart. It was a shame someone hadn't snatched him up yet, but then again, that meant you still had a shot, even if it was a slim one.

"So where exactly do these get us?" Hunter toys with the lanyard now placed around his neck. "It doesn't say."

"I'm guessing the McLaren lounge," you say and point to the logo on the passes. "Above the garage."

"That's the perfect vantage point for practice."

And it was the perfect view- before getting in the car Daniel walked out into the pit, suited up in his cobalt racesuit and minty helmet and glanced up. You weren't sure if he saw you or not when you waved but he gave a little salute nonetheless.

Hunter was practically glued to the bank of floor to ceiling windows for the entirety of free practice, immersing himself in the experience. You found yourself glancing at the timing tables every lap, silently hoping to see the RIC tag move up. By the end of the second session he had been fourth fastest, a few tenths behind both Mercedes and the Red Bull of Verstappen.

By the time you make it back to Hunter's house, you're both exhausted from a full day of running up and down the paddock. The pair of you had been determined to soak up every second of it, sneaking into whatever offices you could and stealing bites off the buffets and cups of coffee.

Saturday’s free practice and qualifying session pass in a blur of color. Daniel drags his McLaren up the ranks to qualify fourth, his best starting position so far this season. He had a decent shot at the podium- Bottas should be easy pickings and if Verstappen and Hamilton made any mistakes, Daniel might even have a shot at the win.

The excitement in the air is palpable as you both flash your badges and head back up the now familiar path to the McLaren lounge. An hour before lights out, the v6 engines rumble to life below. You venture out onto the balcony, watching and waiting for a glimpse of Daniel.

The Aussie does you one better by walking out, race suit on and helmet in hand. He chats animatedly with Michael before stopping and craning his neck upwards. Michael nudges him with his elbow but Dan ignores him, answering your tiny wave with a wink. He mimes taking a drink and you roll your eyes.

Dan throws his head back and laughs, audible over the cacophony below. He gives you one final salute before Michael drags him back into the garage.

Ten minutes later cars begin streaming out on track, Daniel taking the fourth grid place as his mechanics once again swarm him. Tire blankets are secured, keeping them warm and pliable ahead of the formation lap. Thirty seconds before the boys are released, they're peeled back off as everyone scrambles off the pavement. Verstappen leads them away down the 3.4 mile track for the formation lap. Dan does a few small power slides before taking his place on the second row.

One by one, the red lights illuminate and disappear quicker than your blink. Daniel gets away clean while Bottas stumbles out of the gate, leaving himself wide open for Daniel's overtake on his right side. Cheers erupt around you, your brother going so far as to lift you off your feet.

Maybe Dan had a shot at winning after all.

A nail-biting 38 laps pass without a change in the order of the top three. Finally, a mistake in Max's pit stop sees him return to track third, just behind Daniel. The McLaren driver puts up the fight of his life, late braking at every corner and defending his position for all he was worth. Lewis was twenty seconds ahead- he wouldn't be winning but he could defend his second place spot.

Lewis Hamilton, race winner for the seventh time at the Circuit of the Americas!

Daniel Ricciardo crosses the line second, Max Verstappen takes home that last podium step for Red Bull. An astonishing fifty six laps here today in Austin!

The box erupts around you, a roar of cheers making it impossible to hear what else Crofty and Brundle were saying. But it didn't matter as Daniel raises his fist when he swings back into parc ferme, jumping out to be congratulated by his team. It was his first podium for the papaya team and you can tell it means the world to them.

"Looks like you're taking Lewis out for a drink," your brother teases. "Told you he wouldn't win."

"He almost won," you counter. "But hey, I'm not above asking Lewis on a date. Could you imagine? I mean, he would never agree, but still. It would be a hell of a date."

If you crane your neck from the balcony, you can just barely see the podium. Everyone goes quiet for the anthems and erupts again when the champagne is sprayed. The McLaren team chant for a shoey, which Daniel obliges. He sits to unlace his mint green boot and pours champagne into it, drinking from the boot before passing it to Max who joins in on the fun.

Just as quickly as it began, the celebrations ebb. Daniel is the first to leave the podium which seems odd, given that the PR department surely wants his first big win for the team to be well documented.

Your phone buzzes a second layer. You fish it out of your pocket, a Cheshire grin splitting your face.

"Shouldn't you be busy celebrating?"

"I am," Dan starts, sounding breathless. You can barely hear him over the sound of the crowds chants behind him. "But I want to celebrate with you. I know I didn't win, but how about you let me buy you a drink instead?"

You barely hear anything beyond his first sentence. I want to celebrate with you. Were you dreaming? There was no way this was real.

"Um, I'm sorry, you want to celebrate by going out with me instead of your team?"

"If you'll let me. Hey- just text me okay? I can barely hear you over everyone screaming my name. It may be going to my head."

You laugh, drawing the attention of the vip's nearest you. You give an apologetic smile and move further from the crowd. "I'll text you an address. See you later, second place."

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 fantasy #formula 1 fanfic #f1 #f1 fanfic #daniel ricciardo fanfic #reader insert #my writing #speed and stress

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youbloodymadgenius · 4 years ago

Text

Nunky! (Modern!Ivar x reader - Modern!Ivar x OCs niece and nephew)

A/N: This is my entry to @flowers-in-your-hayr 650 Followers Celebration 🎉 Congrats again, love 🌸 And thanks for this amazing moodboard 😍

I'm awfully late, sorry about that. The truth is, do you know what it is to struggle? Let me tell you: there were three other drafts before this final version. More than 4000 words... All trashed...

Anyway, I'm quite happy with this one, that's all that matters.

@geekandbooknerd, thanks for beta reading this for me 🌺

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Summary: Ever wonder what kind of uncle Ivar would be? Let me show you 😉

Warnings: fluff, fluff, fluff 🙈

Words: 1978

"We're going to play Pete the Cat or Sneaky Snacky Squirrel Game, you in?" He shouts at you from the deck.

Lazily lying on a sunbed in the shade of an oak, you don't bother opening your eyes. As much as you love board games, there's no way you're leaving this perfect spot. Not yet, and certainly not for the next two hours.

"No, I'm good." You shake your head for emphasis, even if you're not sure he can see you.

"Okay lovebug, see you later," he says tenderly before changing his tone, "All right kiddos, get ready to lose!"

You let out a chuckle as Viola and Soren, feeling offended, express loudly their discontent. And you can't help but laugh. You know he's going to let them win anyway. He may be a sore loser who hates to lose and would do anything to win, whether in business or in a game, but things are different when it comes to his niece and nephew. That's just how much he loves them.

Your multi-faceted lover…

To the world, he is Ivar Ragnarsson, the crippled son – and true heir – of the mighty Ragnar Lothbrok, and, till last year – till you – Scandinavia's richest and most eligible bachelor, and all this in spite of his legs.

To his employees and business partners, he's an arrogant, cranky, demanding, cold-hearted, smart as hell, and very successful business tycoon. Oh, if they could see him right now, they wouldn't believe their eyes. No dress shirt, no suit pants, no blazer. With a backwards baseball cap, a basic black tee-shirt and stonewashed jeans, he looks more like a boy than a crafty businessman.

To you, he's the man you've been in love with for eight months; a complex human being, for sure, full of contradictions: so self-confident and yet in some ways so self-conscious; outwardly tough but at times so incredibly vulnerable. You won't lie, he can be infuriating; he's stubborn, strong-headed and short tempered. But he's awfully clever, deadpan and… well... devastatingly handsome, with his impossibly beautiful features and his otherworldly icy blue eyes. He's a fantastic lover too, unexpectedly caring and attentive, loyal and faithful.

To Viola and Soren, his favorite brother's children, he's Uncle Ivar – or Nunky, as Viola calls him – the best uncle ever, funny and mischievous, loving and supportive. He's always ready to go out of his way to teach them all the cool stuff kids are supposed to know; silly jokes, riddles and magic tricks. He's their favorite babysitter, the one who is completely devoted to them, the one who feeds them ice cream and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, before reminding them conspiratorially, with a finger on his lips: "You know the deal, sweet peas! Not a word to your mom."

You remember as if it were yesterday your first meeting with them.

Soren, chocolate all over his face, greets you with a big smile, immediately asking you if you want to play hide-and-seek with them. On the other hand, Viola looks at you from head to toe, scrutinizing you intensely. With her lips pursed and her brows creased, she doesn't seem very pleased, to say the least. The seconds tick by and finally, placing her tiny hands on her hips, the little girl takes a deep breath. "I don't want to play with her. I don't like her." The hostility in her tone can't be missed.

Speechless, you look at Viola with wide open eyes. You usually have a way with kids and are honestly a little stunned by such an unfriendly welcome.

"Viola, please…" Ivar grumbles, rolling his eyes, but he doesn't have time to say another word. "No, Nunky! You told me she was your lover!" Ah, now you're beginning to see her problem, and it brings a small smile on your lips.

Viola points an accusing finger towards you. "Are you Nunky's lover?"

You nod playfully but Viola doesn't seem the least bit amused. "That's why I don't like you. And just so you know, you may be Nunky's lover now, but I'm going to marry him. I just have to wait a little," she frowns, thoroughly concentrated, "I need to be a little older, maybe like… that," she stretches out the fingers of both hands in front of her, "but Nunky is going to marry me. Me, not you. So, you might as well leave right now."

You struggle to hold back your laughter, aware that this is a very serious matter for her.

"Come here, baby girl." Rubbing a hand over his face, Ivar pats his knees and then helps his niece as she climbs onto his lap. "We've talked about this, little bird, remember? We're not getting married, not in ten years, not ever." He speaks so softly, and there's so much love in his eyes, you feel like you're melting.

"But, I lo–" Viola interjects with a pout, but Ivar stops her, shaking his head. "There's no buts, baby love. Uncles do not marry nieces. That's the way it is and that's how it must be. And yes," he looks at you fondly, "Y/N is my lover. But it doesn't change anything. I'm not going anywhere, Viola. I'll always be in your life. I love you." He gently ruffles Soren's hair. "I love you both. You have no idea how much I love you."

You must have dozed off and are awakened by Viola high-pitched squeals of joy. "Oh yeah, let's go into the backyard." Hmph! Looks like you're going to have company. Bye bye peacefulness.

Well, so be it.

Yawning, you stretch like a cat before sitting up. Ivar and the kids are on the deck and you wave at them. Soren casts you a broad smile and takes two steps towards the backyard but Viola stops him.

"Wait, Soren! Nunky," you don't need to see her to know that she's blinking her big, beautiful blue eyes at Ivar, "please, we are tired. Right Soren?"

Viola's brother nods tentatively as Ivar bursts out laughing. "Is that so, munchkin?" Putting on a thinking face, he stares blanky up in the air for a second or two, tapping a forefinger on his chin. "Let me guess, you want a ride, baby girl? Soren, buddy boy, would you mind fetching the princess's carriage for me, please?"

At this point, you know exactly what is going to happen, yet it never ceases to amaze you. And as sure as the sun rises from the east, the next moment Soren is pushing a wheelchair in front of him, coming to a halt next to his uncle. Ivar immediately sits down, slipping his crutch into the intended holder attached to the backrest.

Reaching out, he now gently grabs Viola's wrist. "Your carriage awaits, princess." The little girl climbs very carefully onto his lap before wrapping her chubby arms around his neck.

Ivar pulls her closer, "Hold tight, princess!" and as soon as he's sure she's securely seated, he grabs his push rims and pops a wheelie, Viola bursting with laughter. He then looks at Soren, cracking him a smile. "I'll give you a ride too, bumblebee, stay put."

Soren, older than Viola and always overprotective when it comes to his beloved uncle, frowns, concern all over his boyish face. "You sure I'm not too heavy now? I'm over fifty-five pounds, you know?"

Ivar laughs, an easy smile on his plump lips. "Don't worry, I'll be just fine." A smile tugging up the corner of his mouth and Viola giggling on his lap, he rolls towards the wide wooden ramp leading to the backyard.

Ivar hates using his wheelchair. He despises it. He's very secretive about it. The truth is, it took him two months to tell you that he sometimes needed one and another two months to actually use it in front of you.

He hates it so much that he would rather crawl than use it. Actually, that's what he does every night, after taking off his leg braces.

Yet, he keeps his old wheelchair here, at his brother's house. For recreational purposes only; or in other words for Viola's and Soren's enjoyment. And he gives them rides, up and down the ramp, sometimes for hours, popping wheelies here and there. Because Viola and Soren love that and it makes them laugh. Because he would do everything and anything to make them happy.

That's just how much he loves them.

Ivar pulls a sunbed next to you and flops down on it, stifling a hiss of pain. "Where are the kids?" Raising yourself up on one elbow, you kiss him, your free hand gently stroking the tight muscles of his right thigh.

Rubbing his eyes tiredly, he kisses you back. "Gathering the things they want to take to the beach."

You want to give him a disapproving look, but you won't. You know better. You know him.

He shouldn't go to the beach. Not today. He woke up in pain this morning. Walking in the sand is a struggle even on good days. He'll pay for it later. You know he knows it. And you know he'll do it no matter what, and whatever it takes.

Because that, he can do.

Sometimes, you catch a hint of sadness in his eyes. When Soren and Viola are running and he can't run after them, because running is simply not an option for him. When they are jumping on the trampoline and he can't join them, because it would end with broken bones. When they are playing football, or riding a bike, or skating. When they are tree climbing, or playing gunny sack race, or rock climbing, or playing hopscotch, or skipping rope, or dancing, or…

But walking in the sand, even if not easy, that, he can do.

He's going to struggle all the way – wincing, hissing, silently swearing, even dragging his right leg with his hand if necessary – until they reach their favorite spot, a small cove shielded from the wind, with marvelous pebbles and smooth sand. And he will sit for hours, his legs aching, making sandcastles even though, even as a child, he didn't like that. Because it doesn't matter. Because Soren and Viola matter. And the sparkle in their eyes will bring a smile to his face. Their laughter will make it all worthwhile.

Yeah, this is what he's going to do, for Soren's and Viola's happiness. And you know there's nothing you can say or do that is going to change his mind.

That's just how much he loves them.

⚔️"What are you thinking about, love?" Ivar's soft voice pulls you out of your thoughts as he wraps his arm around your shoulders.

"I was thinking what a fantastic uncle you are." You reply genuinely, your thumb grazing his cheek. "And what a fantastic father you will be one day. The father of our kids."

Ivar blinks several times. You know that no matter how many times you tell him, he still finds it hard to believe that you want to make a life with him; marry him; carry his children.

"This…" His voice trembles and he lowers his gaze, "this is really what you want?"

"Of course, it is, my love." You reassure him for the thousandth time, peppering his jaw with light kisses. "Negotiations with Viola will doubtless be tough, though…" You chuckle, your fingers threading through his hair as he nods. "But let me tell you a secret," you can feel his hot breath on your ear, "you've already won, love." He offers you a breathtaking, mind-blowing smile and then his mouth finds yours and he kisses you and it feels like you're alone in the world, nothing matters but your shared love, nothing exists but him, nothing counts anymore, nothing, nothing, nothing...

"NUNKYYYYY!!!!"

Well… You may have spoken too soon…

🛡⚔️🛡

@flowers-in-your-hayr @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @waiting4inspiration @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @a-mess-of-fandoms @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @ivarthebloodyking @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @cocovikings23 @pieces-by-me @xceafh @mrsalwayswrite @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pomegranates-and-blood

#ivar #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar lothbrok #modern ivar #modern ivar x reader #modern!ivar #modern!ivar x reader #modern-Ivar #ivar imagine #ivar fanfic #ivar fanfiction #ivar fic #ivar vikings #vikings ivar #vikings imagine #fluffy Ivar #650followers

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wiypt-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Barking Up The Wrong Tree

Ransom Drysdale One Shot

Summary: It’s the Annual Pre-Easter meal at the Thrombey’s and Ransom and you are in attendance. As usual, there’s fireworks, a lot of swearing and there’s only one way you know he can get rid of his frustrations…

Warnings: Bad Language words. SMUT (NSFW) NO UNDER 18s!

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N: So this was originally written last year for @jennmurawski13 who requested a smutty one shot with an Evans character of my choice for her birthday. It was coined from a Brainstorming sesh me and @icanfeelastormbrewing had for our intended Ransom x OFC series (we might get round to it in 2022…so by then you’ll have forgotten if we use it again.) FYI Eighteen year old Ransom is totally Bryce from Fierce People, you can’t convince me otherwise… I also very much now see this being the same Reader as in mine, @ohthankevans13 and @sweater-daddiesdumbdork’s Real Life Tasks With Ransom Drysdale series.

Your brown leather, knee high Saint Laurent boots (a gift from the man whose lap you were curled up on) were on the floor by your feet leaving you in your grey, woollen over-knee socks. One of your boyfriend’s large hands was resting on your left shin, the other just at the top of your right thigh, almost on your ass cheek. You were well aware your black sweater dress was riding up so went to shift and shimmy it down a little, conscious that you were, after all, sat in the large drawing room at his grandfather’s house whilst the rest of his family milled around as the pre-Easter dinner, which always took place the weekend before the actual holiday, was being prepared.

“You okay?” Ransom looked up at you, noticing you shift on his lap and you smiled.

“Yeah, just don’t want to flash everyone too much if you get my drift.”

Ransom cocked an eyebrow at you, then peeked around the room, before he gave a snort as his eyes fell on his cousin Jacob who was watching the pair of you.

“Yeah, we wouldn’t want Adolf junior getting a boner now would we?”

You gave a chuckle as you re-arranged your dress, making yourself more comfortable.

“He’s just a kid, Ran.” You soothed.

“He’s a deviant, Princess.” He replied, his voice quiet.

“So were you when I first met you.” You grinned, looking at him as you bent closer to whisper into his ear “Still are when the mood takes you.”

Ransom pulled back to look at you, his face inches from yours, his eyebrow raising slightly as that dirty smirk spread across his handsome face. “Stop it.” He warned, and you shrugged innocently, as he placed a soft kiss on your mouth.

“Come on son, put her down.” Richard’s voice rang across the room and instantly you felt Ransom’s entire demeanour change. Gone was the relaxed, jokey, happy Ran you knew and loved and in his place was Hugh Ransom Drysdale, asshole extraordinaire.

“Piss off, Father.” He shot back, his head moving back from yours, fixing his dad with a steely glare.

“Hey.” Richard glowered “Don’t speak to me like that…” he turned to Linda. “Did you hear that Linda?”

“Ransom…” Linda said lazily, not looking up from her phone. “Don’t speak to your father like that.”

Ransom rolled his eyes and you gently looked at him, shaking your head, silently telling him to stay calm. It was always the same with the Thrombey family gatherings. Ransom despised them for the simple fact that Harlan was the only one he had any time for, bar his mother on a good day, and you were inclined to feel the same way. It always ended in chaos, each individual nuclear sects within the extended family trying to get one up on the other, prove they were the best players in the game.

Frankly, they made the fucking Lannisters look normal.

All your friends were constantly asking you how you managed to stay tangled in this web of dysfunction, but the answer was right in front of you, his crystal blue eyes now narrowed as he shot a sarcastic reply back to his mother.

The simple truth was, you loved him and couldn’t walk away if you tried.

It hadn’t always been that way, mind. When your High School had been asked to submit nominations for the coveted position of Harlan Thrombey’s Summer research assistant, you’d been short listed along with 15 other candidates from the New England area. Each of you were asked to produce a five-thousand word thesis on a literary subject of your choice to be submitted for reading by Harlan. You’d been ecstatic when you received the call from his Publishing Company to say you’d made the final three and were requested to attend an interview.

You’d been and bought a new suit. Nothing fancy but decent enough quality. You made sure your hair was tamed, your make up was as on point as you could get it, and had driven the thirty minutes or so out to his mansion from the home you shared with your Nanna in Brookline, following the directions on your GPS to the area near Pierce Park where the Thrombey Mansion was located. You were greeted by his housekeeper and shown into the large office where the man himself was waiting. Harlan was nothing like you had expected him to be. He was eccentric, sure, but also dmaned good fun. He’d asked you a few questions about why you wanted the position “I’m going to major in English at college and I hope to work in publishing when I graduate, this would be an invaluable experience.” He had then discussed your paper with you and after a few more general questions he had reduced you almost to tears of laughter by telling you a about an incident when he had been at college and was almost caught climbing down the trellis of his girlfriend’s parent’s house following a late night rendezvous of the very naughty kind “Don’t think too badly of me, we ended up married for forty-seven years…”

Then, just as he was showing you out of his study a tall, well-built young man, your age you had correctly guessed, with a strong jaw, dark hair flicked to the left side of his forehead, and a pair of the bluest eyes you had ever seen, waltzed down the hallway. He was dressed in a pair of riding breeches, a polo shirt and wore a long pair of tan leather riding boots.

"Ransom?” Harlan looked at the young man “I wasn’t expecting you till this afternoon.”

“Yeah well, the fucking horse I should have been riding is lame.” Ransom shrugged “Which means I can’t ride, and I probably can’t compete this weekend.”

“Dressage?” you had asked, your mouth speaking well before your brain had engaged, for some reason thinking it was a good idea to comment. Ransom had looked at you with disdain, scanned you up and down and cocked his head to one side, his eyes cold as they locked onto yours.

“Polo.” He had answered, a sneer on his face “Do I look like a dressage rider to you? Mind you, from the state of your cheap high-street dress the nearest you’ve probably ever been to a horse is those shitty little trail rides they run at kids parties.”

“Ransom!” Harlan had snapped sternly “Enough!”

You felt the heat rise in your neck and cheeks, and you drew yourself up to your full height, folding your arms as you looked at the ass hole stood in front of you. One thing your Nanna had told you was that, despite your humble origins, you were as worthy as the next person, no matter how much money, status or self-importance they may have.

“My apologies. I always thought polo was played by arrogant, snobby, stuck up pricks.” You retorted as you made a show of looking him up and down in the same way he had done to you. “Actually, on second thoughts, I should have guessed.”

As soon as the words were out of your mind you let out an internal groan. Way to go, flush your chance of landing this summer internship down the fucking toilet by insulting Harlan’s grandson. Nevertheless, you held the gaze of the man in front of you who stared back, his expression and face utterly stoic bar the blink of surprise his eyes made.

You heard Harlan chuckle behind you and the old man dropped a hand to your shoulder. “Fran, could you see Miss Y/L/N to the door.”

Two days later Harlan had personally called you to offer you the position, and it had turned out to be everything you ever wanted, and more. Three weeks into your internship, to your utter surprise, Harlan confessed that he had been looking to fund a worthy, local candidate through college and as the successful applicant it was yours for the taking. Some strings had been pulled, and in the last week of September thanks to his generosity you started your English Major at Harvard.

And so did Ransom.

He pursued you with a dogged determination, seemingly viewing your indifference towards him and his advances as some kind of challenge. You weren’t fooling yourself, however. He was devastatingly handsome and your traitorous vagina and that part of your brain that controlled your libido harboured a deep desire to fuck his brains out, a desire you finally gave into at the end of your first year when, following your final exam, you got drunk and woke up the morning after in his bed.

It wasn’t all puppies and roses though. You were on and off more than his boxer shorts, as simply put, Ransom was a player. And it didn’t bother you to start with. He was a hook up, a way to relieve tension when you needed to, and he was a very handy person to know with his seemingly endless network of connections. But by the time you graduated you knew you were head over heels for him, and needed to break this seeming cycle of being in and out of his bed. So you turned down Harlan’s offer of a job at Blood Like Wine and were ready to move away from Boston after landing a job at a publishers in Manhattan…but then your nanna had been taken seriously ill and suffered a stroke meaning you had to stay.

As a result of her illness, your nanna was unable to live in your house in Brookline alone and so you were forced to sell it so she could afford to move into a supervised Retirement Village a five minute or so drive away. You were now jobless, drowning with the house-sale which would leave you homeless, and your emotions and been all over the place. You had no other family since your Grandfather had died at the start of your senior year so had no one to turn to.

Enter Hugh Ransom Drysdale.

You’d called him one evening, drunk and emotional and needing a release and he came over alright, but instead of fucking you into the mattress he made sure you drank water, ate something, and then got you into bed. The next morning, Harlan had shown up, telling you the job offer at his company was still open, and then to your utter surprise and initial horror he had offered to buy your nanna’s house, meaning you could remain there as a tenant. At first you had refused, insisting you weren’t a charity case but Harlan had simply waved your concerns away by insisting it was an investment. After a little discussion he agreed to allow you to pay rent which, all things considered, was a pittance in comparison to what other properties the same size in that area commanded but it was a rent nonetheless and made you feel better.

And you knew all of it had ben Ransom’s idea.

This was the side to Ransom he very rarely displayed to anyone. A softer side, a caring side, a gentle side. A side that held you as you cried at the thought that your nanna was growing old and may soon leave you behind, a side that made you a sandwich when you hadn’t eaten in days, a side that helped you pack up and move your Nana’s stuff to her new home, a side that turned up at 9pm with several tubs of ice cream and a bottle of wine after you’d messaged him earlier that afternoon to tell him what a shit day you were having when his Uncle Walt was being a dick at work.

The rest, they say is history. History which meant you were now curled up in his lap some eight or so years post that initial meeting in the hallway of this very house, listening to him bicker with his family, feeling his leg beginning to shake in that way it always did when he was agitated.

“Ran…” you said gently, squeezing his arm and you felt him take a deep breath and he looked at you, his mouth closing as you shook your head “Don’t.”

He turned away, looking to the other side of the room and his face glowered as he spotted Jacob once more had his eyes trained on your bare thigh. God the pubescent creep did his fucking head in, and if he stayed here he was going to end up putting the lanky streak of shit through the wall.

“Can we go?” Ransom looked at you, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“We’ve not even had dinner yet.”

“Please.”

That single word was enough to make you understand. It was a word he hadn’t learned until he’d met you, when he realised that his demands and arrogance got him nowhere with you. He still rarely used it mind, but when he did, you knew he was in desperate need of what he’d asked for.

“How about we take a walk?” You suggested “If you still wanna go after then we will”

He took a deep breath as he considered what you had said. Compromise was another word that hadn’t been in his vocabulary until you. His eyes locked onto yours and you looked at him, encouragingly and he took a deep breath, nodding.

“Okay.”

You uncurled yourself from his lap and stood up, him following so you could sit down and place you boots on.

“Are you leaving?” Linda asked, looking up for the first time.

“For a walk.” Ransom said simply, grabbing your hand and pretty much dragging you from the room. He didn’t say a word as he reached the coat stand and retrieved your lightweight Ted Baker belted mac, holding it out for you to slip your arms into, in a display of chivalry he reserved only for you. Once you’d done it up, he took your hand in his and you headed through the kitchen and outside into the reasonably mild April afternoon.

“Don’t let them get to you.” You said softly, leaning into him a little and he sighed, untangling his fingers from yours so he could drop his arm round your shoulders. He hated the fact his family could make him feel like this, like he wasn’t in control, like he was insignificant in the grand scheme of things. He could quite happily go without seeing any of them, well, bar maybe his grandfather, but you had told him he would regret it if he pushed them away completely because you had always wished you’d had a large family unit like that. So, despite the fact he knew deep down that was a load of bullshit, he played the game. He attended the damned gatherings more for your benefit than any as you adored Harlan and seemed to get on fairly well with Joni, Meg and his mother. He hung onto a glimmer of hope that maybe one day it would all change and he’d feel part of it.

But it never did. And he never did.

The two of you walked in comfortable silence across the Mansion grounds, round the lake where Ransom stopped by the small pier, looking out over the water.

“You know my most vivid childhood memories are of this spot.” He mused, his gaze focussed over the lake “Grammy used to bring me down here to feed the ducks.”

“It’s beautiful down here.” You agreed, snuggling further under his arm. “Peaceful.”

“Yeah unlike that fucking house.”

You gave a chuckle, as his hand curled over your shoulder, absentmindedly rubbing over the smooth material of your coat. He was agitated, you could tell, and there were very few ways in which he could calm down when he was like this. One was riding his beloved BB- a polo horse Harlan had bought him for his 21st, one was the pair of you curling up on the sofa with snacks and a good scotch or bourbon, getting drunk and watching Trashy Films, in particular horrors-you both loved to pick plot holes and insult the main characters, declaring the victim a dumb bitch for running up the stairs and not out of the door and the other, well…

You glanced around, checking you were alone before you pulled away from him, taking his hand and tugging on it slightly.

“What?” he asked looking down.

“Come on.” You gave his hand another pull.

“Y/N?” he questioned again, but followed nonetheless despite you not answering. You tugged him away from the lake, into the thin thicket of trees a little further round. You could still see the house here but you knew there was no way anyone from up there could see you.

“Seriously, Y/N what the fuck?” he groaned, as he stepped in the slightly squelchy mud “You’re gonna ruin my Gucci’s…” “Should have worn something a little more substantial then shouldn’t you?”

“I didn’t know you were planning on going fucking hiking in the fucking woods.”

“That’s not what we’re doing.” You said, stopping in front of a large oak tree, looking up at him.

“Then what are we doing? Reconnecting with Mother Nature? Or are we on the hunt for Oberon, Titania and Puck?”

“Ooh, good Shakespeare reference.” You grinned at him and he rolled his eyes as you slid your hand up over his navy blue lightweight Barbour jacket which was done up to his sternum, leaving his plain white, Armani t-shirt slightly visible at the neckline. “Does that make us Lysander and Hermia?”

“You got a hidden suitor called Demetrius I don’t know about?” he arched an eyebrow, his hands falling to your hips.

“Nope, I’m all yours Tiger.”

The sound of your ridiculous nickname for him drew a large smile across his face and he shook his head, giving a genuine chuckle. Here, with you there were no annoying voices to listen to, no family politics, nothing to care about but the gentle brush of the wind as it blew through the canopy of trees above your heads and the faint sounds of birds as they went about their business and Ransom felt a sense of comfort. Because you were his rock. The one person that saw through his bull shit, the woman in his life that knew all his horrible personality traits as well as his slightly less horrible ones and loved him all the same. The girl that had rounded off his harsher edges no matter how much he protested to the contrary.

You were his better half for sure.

“Well that’s good, because I don’t like sharing.” Ransom smirked, dipping his head to capture your lips in a soft kiss.

“Don’t I know it.” You mused against his mouth. His fingers flexed on your sides, pulling you closer to him as he slid his tongue across your bottom lip. You opened your mouth slightly, allowing him control over the kiss, knowing that’s what he craved when he was like this. His lips were soft on yours, tongue domineering as he kissed you deeply, slowly. Eventually he pulled back, his nose bumping yours slightly as he gave a little chuckle.

“I know you’re trying to distract me from those shit heads in the house.” He said, his tone playful and you loved playful Ransom. Another side to him only you really got to see.

“Is it working?” You played along.

“Yeah.” He nodded, his lips pressing to yours again.

“Good. Now why don’t you let your inner deviant come out to play?”

“You don’t need to ask me twice, Princess.” The words were barely out of his mouth before he had pressed you into the harsh, earthy bark of the tree behind you, kissing you hard again, groaning as you palmed his crotch through his designer denims. He grabbed your wrist, pinning it above your head before he did the same with the other one, easily holding both in place above you with one large hand, his other softly tracing up the outside of your thigh, fingers skating under your skirt.

“Is this why you wore this?” he smirked, toying with the material slightly. “So you could tempt me away for a fuck in the woods?”

It wasn’t, it was because it looked and felt good, but you decided to play along “Maybe. Was it a good choice?”

“Damned right it was…” he growled against your mouth, his long, soft fingers sliding your lace panties to the side. His index finger traced a path up your slit and you gasped at the feeling as he gently began to toy with you. Soft, teasing touches, his eyes never once leaving yours. That was one of his things, he liked to see your face, watch as your expressions changed as he undid you, fuelling his ego. Your hips gently started to move in time to his strokes as he played you, like an instrument from which he could always draw a tune. And in no time at all, he was listening to the music as you let out a soft keen, a purr almost as your head fell back against the tree, your mouth parting slightly.

“Like that?” he asked, and it was all you could do to nod, panting brokenly as the familiar feeing began to rise in the pit of your stomach, the fire growing hotter and hotter. “God you’re a fucking minx. Come on, cum on my fingers, you know you want to.” And you did, hard, your knees trembling, as you let out a loud cry of his name as the lights exploded in front of your eyes. Ransom pressed into you, his erection evident as it dug into your stomach, keeping you pinned between him and the tree as he coaxed you through your orgasm, before he moved his hands, allowing yours to drop to his shoulders as you held onto him tightly.

The clanging of a belt buckle, then the zipping of trousers and the rustling of fabric broke through the post-orgasm haze as Ransom undid his flies, reaching into pull out his painfully hard cock. He gently pushed forward, sliding the tip against your folds, gathering your slick as you gave a moan, the feeling of him sliding against your clit sent lances of red, hot desire through your veins.

His hands gripped the back of your thighs as he pulled you off the ground and you hooked them round his slim waist, ankles locking at the base of his spine. In a swift, fluid moment, no teasing, no gentle ease, he buried himself inside you with a deep thrust making you cry out as he filled you. His lips crashed onto yours as he drew back, then thrust back in hard, his cock dragging against your walls inside, hitting that spot that he knew would leave you seeing stars.

Yes, if there was one thing on this Earth Ransom knew he was good at, it was fucking you.

His lips traced a path from your mouth to your jawline, then to your neck, biting and sucking at any bit he could get to, his hips moving back and forth in a slow but deep pace which was torture, and you needed more.

“Ran, harder…” You groaned, digging your heels into his ass and he gave a dirty moan of his own as his hands held your hips.

“You’re such a needy little slut.” He smirked against your lips, not waiting for your reply as he picked up the pace, his hips snapping back and forth with a vigour that was merciless as he pistoned in and out of you again and again. Your hands gripped his shoulders tightly as you kissed him, teeth clashing together as your back repeatedly brushed against the harsh, rough surface behind you as you clawed desperately at the material of his jacket.

It wasn’t long before you felt another orgasm brewing and your head fell forward, teeth nipping at his ear drawing a growl from his throat. Your hands moved into his hair and you pulled sharply back causing him to hiss and look up you.

“Fuck, Y/N….” he groaned, the pupils of his eyes blown wide with a desire you would never tire of seeing. You pushed your hips down against him causing him to drive deeper and you let out an almost primal cry, the noise you made simply revving him up even more, his rapid movements growing even more urgent.

“Fuck Ran…” you moaned as your head rolled back against the tree, hands back on his shoulders, as once more that snake in your belly moved. Ransom felt the tell-tale flutter of your heat tightening round him and he continued his voracious pace, his eyes locked onto yours.

“You feel so fucking good…” he panted “So fuckin’ good Princess...”

His words made you moan again, and he pushed up once more, stilling slightly, grinding up against you as opposed to thrusting and a few rolls of his hips later you were done. The world faded around you as you came hard, with a loud scream before your head dropped to his shoulder, as you moaned his name, again and again whilst he pounded through your orgasm chasing his own.

“Shit, Y/N…I’m…fuck…” his words tumbled into your hair as his movements became desperate and he came a short while later with a loud yell. You felt him fill you up, as his hips stilled and he groaned, face buried into your neck, his chest heaving, sweat beaded both his brow and yours as he simply pressed into you, panting and shaking.

Neither of you had any idea how long you stayed like that, but eventually Ransom managed to gain enough control to pull his softening cock out of you and set you gently on your feet as he brushed the tendrils of your hair that had fallen over your face back with a tenderness he reserved only for you. He said nothing, simply looked at you, his lips gently greeting yours in a soft, loving kiss, a stark contrast to the violent ones you had shared moments before. You smiled at him, unadulterated love in your eyes as you moved your hands to brush his hair back before you leaned up and kissed him again, your nose sliding against his.

“I adore you Hugh Ransom Drysdale. Don’t ever forget that.”

“Don’t fucking call me Hugh.” He grumbled and you chuckled as he pulled you to him, nuzzling into your hair as he sighed. “But for the record, the feeling is mutual Y/F/N, Y/M/N, Y/L/N.”

You gave a laugh and were about to reply when you felt his head snap up, and his entire body tense and he let out an angry cry causing you to jump.

“Jesus Fucking Christ! The perverted little shit!”

“Ran?” You saw his face contorted in anger as he pushed back from you, striding away from the tree, rearranging his jeans as he went before he broke into a sprint. You watched him go and then, to your horror, saw the retreating back of a smaller male running away from the thicket of trees on the curve of the bank to your left and you felt yourself grow cold.

Jacob.

How long he had been there Ransom had no idea but he chased the little fucker all the way to the house, yelling insults and threats as he burst into the kitchen. Ransom finally caught up with him just as he ran into the hall and grabbed the kid by the collar, spinning him round and pinning him to the wall, arm crossed over his windpipe. “Enjoy the show did we?!” He yelled, the noise drawing the rest of the family out from the sitting room into the tiled hallway. Walt started to shout angry threats about what he was going to do to Ransom if he didn’t take his hands off his son, which then sparked Richard to bite back at Walt saying if he touched Ransom he’d give him a damned good hiding. If Ransom hadn’t been so focussed on the dirt little bastard he had pinned to the wall he would have laughed because the idea of his dad fighting anyone was hilarious, he couldn’t fight his way out of a paper bag.

“Give me your phone.” Ransom demanded.

“I didn’t…” “GIVE ME YOUR PHONE NOW YOU PERVERTED PRICK!” Ransom yelled, and reached into Jacob’s pocket, grabbing his hand where it was curled around the offending item, bending the boy’s fingers back. Jacob gave a yell, pulled his hand out of his trouser pocket and Ransom seized the phone, yanking it out, just as you walked into the hallway.

He looked at you, then to Jacob and saw you pale as the realisation washed over you that you’d not only been seen but recorded or snapped, by a twelve year old boy nonetheless.

“Unlock it.” Ransom demanded, thrusting it back at him.

“Now listen here…” Walt started until Harlan turned to him.

“Walt, shut up.” He barked, turning to Jacob “Unlock the phone, now Jake.”

Jacob sullenly took the phone from Ransom and did has he was told, Ransom snatching it back. He glanced down at the screen, flicking to the Gallery and let out an angry noise as he saw not only footage of you both in the woods but ten or so photos of your bare thigh and close ups where he had attempted to see up your skirt when you had been on his knee before. Thankfully from the snaps there wasn’t really anything visible, but still the fact he had even taken them in the first place made Ransom apoplectic with rage.

“You dirty little prick.” he mumbled, looking back up at him. Jacob visibly recoiled under Ransom’s glare.

“Ran?” You questioned as you gently touched his arm and he tilted the phone so you could see the screen and your eyes widened, your entire body growing warm as you saw the close up of your thigh on the screen.

“How the fuck dare you?” You exploded, glaring at Jacob.

“Can you explain what he has supposedly done?” Donna, Jacob’s mother spoke for the first time and you turned to face her, your pretty features contorted in rage.

“He’s…” You shook your head “Taken photos of me, before up my skirt.”

Noise erupted in the hallway, Joni and Meg screaming about you being violated, Richard and Linda yelling at Walt and Donna whilst Harlan shook his head, making a noise of disgust. Ransom ignored them all as he selected the photos and images, deleting them, and showing it to you.

“Gone, Princess.” He turned the screen off before he leaned over and kissed your temple.

“Look, he’s a teenage boy…” Donna was protesting “He’s a bit curious…”

“He’s a dirty bastard.” Richard snorted and the irony wasn’t lost on Ransom as he’d seen his father eyeing you up on more than one occasion. He looked at his dad, eyebrow raised as Jacob bit back at the dig.

“I’m a dirty bastard?” The pre-teen snapped, his eyes flicking from Richard to Ransom “I’m not the one that was having sex against a tree!”

Everyone paused and their heads turned to you and Ransom. You gave a groan, your hands sliding up to your face to hide your utter embarrassment, but besides you Ransom’s expression never changed because, well frankly, he couldn’t give two shits about everyone knowing what you had been up to.

“I’m a grown ass man.” He snarled “If I wanna fuck my girl outside on private property I will”

He held Jacob’s phone out to him, but as Jacob went to take it Ransom opened his hand, dropped it to the floor with a loud “oops” and stomped on it, the metal and glass crunching under the heel of his expensive, leather boots.

There was more yelling, and Ransom simply turned, taking your hand in his. “We’re leaving.”

This time you didn’t argue. The pair of you walked away, ignoring the screaming which grew fainter as you headed down towards the large front doors, only to hear Harlan calling after you. Ransom stopped, took a deep breath and tuned to face his grandfather.

“Y/N are you ok?”

“Of course she’s not.” Ransom snapped but you gently squeezed his hand, shaking his head.

“I’m okay Harlan, thank you. But I think its best we go before Ransom commits murder.”

“Well, I can assure you I’m not far off killing the little turd myself.” Harlan shook his head, sighing. He then took a deep breath, looked at Ransom, and there was a flash of something which you knew only too well to be amusement in his eyes. “Which tree?”

Ransom frowned “What?”

“I asked which tree you two were doing the naughty against.”

You groaned as Ransom blinked and then shrugged “Just in the thicket to the south side of the lake, near the little jetty. Why?”

“Well, instead of barking up the wrong tree so to speak, next time stick to the North side.” Harlan grinned cheekily “It’s in the dip and no chance you can be spotted by anyone unless they’re a foot or so away.”

Ransom’s mouth curled up into a smirk as he looked at his grandfather then to you.

Meanwhile you simply wanted the ground to open up and swallow you.

Harlan bid the two of you goodbye as you headed out to Ransom’s Beemer. He stopped just besides it, turning to you, his hands falling to your hips again. “Well, I don’t know about you, Sweetheart, but all that excitement has made me a bit hungry. Seeing as we’re not getting dinner here, how about I take you to Asta?”

Your face lit up at the mention of your favourite restaurant and you gave an eager nod before you frowned “Aren’t we a little underdressed? And it’s Saturday evening, we’ll never get in.”

“Baby girl, enough money can get us in anywhere, and you look fine.” He said, dropping a kiss to your lips before he grinned “You might wanna brush the twigs outta your hair though.”

#ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale smut #ransom drysdale fic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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onechicago-upsteadrhekker · 4 years ago

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the trouble with wanting (is i want you) - part three

Friends!

It’s here! Finally! The last part to my version of Hailey’s time in New York!

I know it took a while me to post everything, but better late than never I guess! I hope this lives up to your expectations and I can’t wait to see what you think of it!

Huge shoutout to @anniesardors and @imjustwritingg for hearing and reading all the things and just being the biggest hype girls of all time!

Please enjoy this fluffy chapter before we get served a whole host of angst in the season finale tomorrow lol. Also, just a forewarning, it’s a long one... Like over 10,000 words so you’re welcome haha.

Tagging: @imjustwritingg, @anniesardors, @thetwit, @angelsjedi, @chichichicken, @carissalizz, @maya-asturias, @stephanie708, @cpd5777

Read on AO3

It was nearing eleven in the evening and Hailey didn’t think she’d ever been so exhausted from the events of the day. Being released from the hospital and Jay’s mandatory five laps around the floor of the hotel had taken its toll on her.

It was a good kind of exhausted though because today, she had fallen in love with Jay Halstead all over again.

With every gesture and smile and look he gave her she fell in love with him again and again. His strong, but gentle hands, his heart always so kind and his eyes filled with an affection that made her heart ache in the best way.

Even though her side was killing her, she felt so incredibly grateful to have him with her because the devotion he’s shown to her over the past few days, and especially today, made her once again realize that he truly was one of a kind.

And spending the day with just him, laughing and joking and asking each other silly questions almost made getting injured worth it.

She yawns through a giggle, her eyes shining bright as she listens to him wrap up a hilarious retelling of a time when he was on patrol. For one of her questions, she’d asked him for his craziest experience on the beat and he’d launched into a story about him and his old partner responding to a burglary call at two in the morning.

A man had claimed that he had been robbed and was missing five pounds of bacon but upon further investigation, it turned out the wife had been sneaking into the kitchen for a late-night snack.

“We did get some bacon out of it,” he laughs, looking up at her from where he was laid out at the end of the bed. “So, it wasn’t all bad.”

Shaking her head in amusement, she stifles another yawn with her hand and Jay gives her an affectionate smile and a pointed look, both of which she’s become quite familiar with by now.

“As much as I love this, I think it’s time for someone to go to bed.”

She arches an eyebrow, trying not to look as tired as she really felt. “So, I have a bedtime now?”

“When you’ve been shot and are taking some pretty heavy pain killers you do,” Jay smirks and she knows that not only is he right about her needing rest, but he is also getting payback for all of the times she had forced him to bed using the same argument.

He glances at his watch, the smirk growing, “Oh, and look at that. It’s time for another round of meds.”

Hailey gives him a look and scrunches up her nose, still not thrilled with the idea of taking them, but silently thankful that they should knock her out for a few hours. Shaking out a few pills into an open palm, Jay grabs a fresh bottle of water from the mini fridge and gives the items to her.

“Do you want a shower tonight?” He asks as she throws the pills back in one go and takes a gulp of water to swallow them down with.

Wiping at her lips with her shirt, she shakes her head. “I took one this morning before you got to the hospital, so I’m good.”

“Alright,” he nods, leaning down to pick an empty plastic bag that had floated to the floor. “Why don’t you get ready for bed then? I’ll clean up out here and then help you change your bandages.”

Hailey carefully climbs out of the spot she’s been sitting in for most of the day and pads over to the chest of drawers she had finally unpacked in when it was clear she would be staying in New York for more than two weeks. She pulls out an oversized police academy shirt and a pair of running shorts before turning to rifle through the small duffle that Jay had packed for her hospital stay for her toothbrush.

She makes her way into the bathroom and even though her back is to him, Hailey is still very much aware of every move Jay makes as he busies himself with tidying the room and washing their dishes.

It all seems so domesticated and easy, like something they’ve done a thousand times before, and yet it feels different than if they were in one of their apartments doing the same sort of thing after pizza and beers.

There was something about knowing Jay couldn’t just hop in his truck to go home if he felt like it or that she couldn’t hide away in her own bedroom for a few minutes when the overwhelming urge to kiss him comes over her and it makes her heart beat erratically inside her chest.

She rinses her mouth out and takes a deep breath to steady herself before leaving the bathroom now dressed in her pajamas.

Jay places the last dish away as she comes out, turning to look at her with another easy smile that makes her knees week. She thinks it should be illegal for someone to look that handsome doing such a mundane task, but then again, it’s Jay and she knows he looks good in anything and everything he does. She doesn’t even have to work with him every day to know that.

She sits on the edge of the bed and Jay makes his way over to her silently, gauze and medical tape in his hands. Lifting her oversized shirt, she keeps it from falling down with an arm crossed just below her breasts and she thinks for a moment that there should be some sort of initial awkwardness at being this close, that she should feel uncomfortable, but there isn’t, and she doesn’t.

Jay had been there when the nurses had first changed her bandages, had carefully studied their movements as they showed him what to do when she got home, but now that they were here, his hands touching her and just the two of them in a hotel room it was almost too much.

His fingers were gentle, but nimble as he carefully undid the bandages taped to her stitched side and Hailey couldn’t help thinking how his hands were more reassuring and comforting than even the nurses with all their experience and technique.

“Cop who scares you the most?” The sudden question almost makes Hailey jump, not expecting him to speak and she wonders if maybe the silence was getting to him too.

She blinks but doesn’t have to think too hard on this one. “Platt, for sure.”

“You?” She questions and she can hear the smile in his voice when he gives the same answer she had a second ago.

As his fingers continue working over her injury, she can’t help the way her heart rate quickens. Can’t stop the goosebumps from popping up all over her skin. If he notices the way she shivers just slightly, he doesn’t show it as he begins to apply the fresh gauze over her side.

“Did you always wanna be a cop? Before you met Platt, I mean,” he asks then. She hates the way it catches her off guard again, but also feels grateful for the distraction instead of thinking about his hands moving over her body.

“Um, no, actually. I was really into gymnastics when I was younger. I remember watching the Olympics with my brothers and just loving the way they all moved through the air. Did it for a couple years but didn’t stick with it. Obviously,” she says as he puts some slight pressure on her side to apply some medical tape over the gauze.

“I’m sorry. I know this part hurts,” he says immediately, his fingers stilling, and she shakes her head.

“It’s okay,” she breathes out through gritted teeth.

She takes another deep breath and feels him begin to move his hands over her side again a moment later. Instead of thinking about the discomfort and pain, she puts her focus back on the way his fingers feel on her skin. The way his hands have taken down some of the most hardened criminals of Chicago, but here he is, as gentle and as soft as can be with her. Like he always is.

His hands leave her side a moment later and then she hears him whisper from beside her. “All done.”

She nods and pulls down her shirt before slinking further into the bed and carefully lying on her uninjured side as comfortably as she could. She watches him as he cleans up the medical supplies and disposes of her dirty bandages before turning off the main light of the room.

There’s just the nightstand lamp on, now casting a softer glow throughout the room.

Hailey took another deep breath, trying to breathe as quietly as she could as she listened to Jay moving around the room on the other side of the bed. Her heart was starting to beat wildly again with anticipation as she waited for the inevitable dip of the bed when he was ready to turn in for the night.

She could hear his footsteps fall softly, the door to the bathroom closing shut as quietly as possible and she knows he’s trying hard not to disturb her. It didn’t matter though; she’s so hyper-aware of him, every noise he made echoed loudly in her ears.

If she were being honest, the thought of them sharing a bed had plagued her mind well before she’d been sent to New York and he’d hopped on a plane when she’d gotten hurt five weeks later. When it dawned on her that this meant that her bed-sharing fantasies had a high probability of coming true, her nights had been filled thinking about this moment more than she would ever admit.

Generally, she wasn’t an over thinker, but when it came to this, her mind had raced with the possibilities and each scenario had played out in her mind like a scene from a cringy rom-com.

The bathroom door opened, and her eyes flew shut. He moved silently over to the empty side of the bed and there was some rattling on the nightstand as he plugged his phone in and took his watch off. When it was quiet again, she waited for him to climb in beside her, but she could almost feel his hesitation.

She was about to tell him it was okay, and she didn’t mind sharing; that the bed was big enough for both of them, but then he climbed in next to her like it was just any other night. Like it was completely normal, and he’d been sleeping beside her for years.

It wasn’t a night of passionate frenzy and tangled limbs or awkward small talk over them sharing a bed.

It just was.

“Jay?”

He barely heard it, but it was enough for him to wake up.

Turning over quickly, he squinted, trying to see Hailey through the darkness, “Hailey?” He rasped groggily, “You okay?”

She sighed. Or tried to. He heard it catch in her throat before she drew in a quick little breath of pain and he knows that her insomnia is probably what woke her up, but it’s her ribs and side that’s keeping her from falling back asleep.

He tried to shuffle closer to her without jostling her too much, “You in pain?”

He was close enough now to see her facial expression. Her brows were furrowed like she was upset with herself as she muttered a ‘crap’, “I’m sorry, Jay. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Blinking, he shakes his head, becoming more alert as he props himself up on an elbow, “Hey, no, you didn’t wake me up.”

It’s a lie and they both know it, but he’ll say anything to make sure she knows that he really doesn’t care about the interruption.

“How long have you been awake?” He asked, glancing at the clock on the nightstand. It was three in the morning.

Hailey does some sort of half-shrug, still laying towards him on her uninjured side, “A few hours I guess.”

Jay frowns, “You could have woken me up a long time ago.”

She still looks a little frustrated at herself, her forehead creased in pain and he knows all too well how brutal the first night out of the hospital can be.

It’s painful, coming off hospital grade pain medication administered through an IV whenever it was needed, having to now rely on low-dosage pills to get through the night.

It’s certainly not a comfortable night, not by a long shot.

And when there aren’t any nurses to answer your every beck and call, you realize just how hard everything is to do by yourself when recovering from an injury.

But she’s not by herself and he’s ready to do anything he can to help her tonight even if it is three am because she was there for him his first night home after getting shot in the shoulder and every other night when an injury was serious enough to warrant a hospital visit since she’d become his partner.

She would sleep on his couch, waking him up in the night to give him another dose of medication even if he didn’t think he needed it and she was there to gently change his bandages with comforting hands and this last time, he could have sworn he’d felt her warm lips touch his forehead as he drifted off to sleep after she’d made him his mom’s soup recipe; it was his favorite and Hailey always made it for him when he got hurt or sick after she’d found out what the recipe meant to him.

But more than that, he cares about her and this is what partners do. They look out for one another.

He’s also quickly realizing how much it hurts to see the girl you’re in love with in pain.

He’s pushing the sheets off of him, already reaching for the bottle of pills sitting on his nightstand, “I should have been more diligent about you taking these pills every four hours.”

He’s a little frustrated with himself for not setting an alarm to give her a dose during the night because now her pain is so bad she can’t sleep. Something he knows she needs to heal quickly.

Hailey carefully rolls on her back, gently holding a hand to her incision and the bruises surrounding it, “Don’t beat yourself up over it, Jay. It’s not your responsibility and I shouldn’t have been so stubborn yesterday.”

“Hey,” He sets the fresh water bottle he’d just grabbed from the fridge on the table next to the pills he’s shaken out before quickly climbing up on the bed to look at her closely.

He wants her to see how serious he is when he says this, “I will take care of you. Every time, any time, anywhere you need me. Even if you don’t think you need me, I will be there. Always, Hailey,” His eyes search hers, “You got me?”

She doesn’t say anything then or protest anymore, just nodding her head and accepting the out-stretched water and pills, quickly throwing them back before handing the bottle back to him.

They stare at each other for a few seconds too long before she blinks and he’s moving to put the half-empty water bottle back on the nightstand. He gets in the bed and waits till Hailey gingerly lowers herself back into the comfort of the mattress before he reaches out and flings the fallen covers over both of them.

He turns out the light he’d flipped on before rolling over to face her. There was a good foot between them, but he never wanted to gather her up in his arms more than he did in this moment, just quietly staring at her in the sliver of moonlight that was cast about the room.

She was breathing shallowly, her arms carefully folded in a comfortable position and her head resting peacefully on her pillow. Her blonde hair was spread out behind her and even though it was messy from sleeping, Jay didn’t think he’d ever seen anything so perfect.

He was staring at her and she was staring at him and even though neither of them had found the courage yet to admit that they fall asleep thinking about each other even when they aren’t together, they both silently knew.

They knew in the way they laughed together and in the way they sit quietly in the truck doing their job and in the way it felt right in this moment.

The world had never felt so right than in this moment, next to each other.

“Favorite memory?” It is whispered into the dark much like she’d said his name not even five minutes ago and if he hadn’t been listening to her quiet breaths, he probably wouldn’t have heard it.

A smile instantly creeps across his face at the question, and he knows he should take a minute to think about the answer to such a difficult question because how can one pick out a single favorite memory among a lifetime of them in such a short amount of time?

But he doesn’t even need a second because the answer is right in front of him.

“This. Now. Anytime I’m with you,” He answers honestly, and it feels like the most direct thing that’s been said between them regarding the feelings they both so clearly have.

He can hear her breath hitch just slightly before she breaths out a chuckle, “That’s not an answer. You gotta pick a moment.”

“Says who?” He challenges with a raised eyebrow she can barely see through the dark.

Hailey gives him a cocky little smirk, “Says me. I’m the one playing your dumb game and I’m the one asking the question, so I should be allowed to make my own rules.”

“I’m sorry. What do you mean by ‘dumb game’? This is one of greatest games of all time,” He mused airily with a hint of fake indignation, “I mean just think of all the great stuff we’ve learned about each other. It’s truly an unmatched bonding experience.”

“Uh-huh,” She couldn’t help but laugh at his overrated words of praise watching as a grin takes over his face.

“Because learning that you used to steal from Will’s hidden candy stash when you were a kid really strengthened our relationship in a special way,” She rolled her eyes.

“Well, it’s not like there’s a lot of stuff you don’t know,” He defended with a pointed look at her.

She’s still grinning that wide smile that says she thinks he’s something else, but she’s so carefree with her sparkling eyes and cheeky dimples, his heart feels like it might burst from his chest at the sight.

He’s leaning on a bent elbow, propping his head up as he gets lost in her and his expression morphs into a soft smile as he thinks about what he just said.

“We’ve spent a lot of hours together, Upton,” His eyes crinkle with fondness and Hailey feels a happy warmth settle over her as she hums in agreement, thinking of all the time they’ve spent telling story after story or just sitting in absolute silence waiting for something to happen.

It’s easy being with him. Has been since the very beginning. Even when they were figuring each other out and dealing with a lot of emotional trauma, there was never any real awkwardness.

He’s comfortable and natural and she’s never had that with anyone. That’s how she knows they are good together and that’s what lets her know that they have the potential to make this last forever.

She almost gives voice to her thoughts. Here, in the dark of a hotel room as they lay in a bed together for the first time, only a few inches separating them, but then Jay slowly starts breathing out the answer to her question and she knows it’s not their time yet even though she desperately wants it to be.

“Remember a few months ago when we all went out to Molly’s after that flesh-eating bacteria debacle?”

Hailey nods. She remembers being overwhelmed at the feeling of being carefree after the stress and terror they had all been put through in the last seventy-two hours. She remembers being thankful that she was alive, but more than that, she remembers being so very relieved that Jay was okay.

She’d had nightmares for months after that where she didn’t make the shot in time, that Jay had infected himself and lost limbs or died because of it.

“And afterwards you wanted ice cream, but everyone else wanted to go home so me and you went to get some?”

She remembers that too.

She doesn’t know why, but she’d had an intense craving for the frozen treat that night and she remembers mentioning it to the team in passing, figuring that she would just stop for a carton from the store on her way home, but then Jay said he would take her and the next thing she knew, they were down at Navy Pier getting ice cream.

She remembers thinking that it felt dangerously like a date and that they were going to get caught for being out past their curfew like a couple of teenagers.

Hailey notices his gentle smile as he gets lost in the memory and she thinks she can just barely see a blush coloring his cheeks. She wonders if he also thought the outing felt a little like they were reckless high schoolers out on a late-night date.

“That’s it. That’s my favorite memory.”

She knew that’s where he was going with this, but she still feels a little shocked hearing it, “That’s your favorite memory?”

If she sounds a little dumbfounded, it’s because she is. She was expecting him to say something about a favorite trip or something with his mom, not some random night where the two of them got ice cream.

“Out of all your memories, that’s the one you’re choosing? What about one of your birthdays or some other special occasion?” She questions again, thinking surely there is something better than a crowded night out in Chicago.

There’s a bashful look on his face, but it doesn’t diminish the contented glimmer in his eyes as he simply nods, “You asked and that’s my answer. Or do you have rules for that too?”

Hailey rolls her eyes, adjusting her head on her pillow, “No. I was just wondering why out of all the nights, that’s the one you picked.”

She doesn’t really expect him to answer, but once again he shocks her when he moves his head just slightly closer to hers and he looks at her like she’s everything he’s ever needed.

“That whole night I remember watching you laugh. Really laugh for the first time in months,” He smiles to himself as he recalls the memory, staring off into the distance, “After everything that happened with Adam and Kelton and then the outbreak, things were finally starting to look up and we were all just so thankful to be out without any stress of a case hanging over our heads.”

Jay shifts his gaze back to hers, “And then we went to get ice cream and we just talked without worrying about our team or being split up or potentially dying from a deadly bacterial infection.”

He takes a breath, “I remember being so grateful and relieved that you were okay after being in isolation, that being with you outside of work, seeing you so happy made me realize how damn lucky I am to have you as not just my partner but as my best friend too.”

Hailey has to blink back tears, not expecting the sentimental response or that it would affect her this much. She reaches out and takes the hand he has laying on the mattress, “You’re my best friend too, Jay. I hope you know that.”

She thinks she sees his eyes flit down to her lips and she thinks that this might be it, that he was getting ready to kiss her, but then he doesn’t, and she tries not to be frustrated at being constantly on edge thinking that each moment is the one that would change her life.

“What about you?” He asks, still holding the hand she placed in his.

“My favorite memory?” She arches eyebrow and he nods as she rolls slightly onto her back, staring up at the ceiling to think before answering.

Like Jay, she doesn’t have to think long, “That time I got really sick with the flu and you came over to fix me your mom’s soup recipe.”

It is his turn to look skeptical of her response, echoing the words she’d said to him, “That’s your favorite memory?”

“Yeah,” She nods before turning her head to look at him, “Even though I felt so crappy, I remember thinking that that was the first time that anyone had taken time out of their day to take care of me like that.”

“Hailey….” Jay breathed out, squeezing her hand as a feeling of protectiveness swept over him, his heart aching to hear that that was the first time she’d ever felt cared for while being sick.

“You made me feel safe when I wasn’t feeling good and in a vulnerable position,” She looks at him fervently, “You make me feel safe, Jay. On the job, when I’m not feeling well, and I’ve never had that before.”

He has that same look from the bar when she’d told him about how her dad would hit her mom and how she’d wished someone would come put her father in his place like Jay did with Shane.

What she didn’t tell him then was that even though Jay wasn’t around when she was a little girl to save her, he had already saved her by just being the kind of man he was.

The man who was selfless in his actions and who was brave without need of recognition, who was patient with his words and slow to anger.

So different from her dad.

From any man she’d met really, especially being in a highly competitive male-dominated career.

Jay’s forehead is creased like it does when he is distressed, so Hailey smiles at him and tries to lighten the mood, “I know what you’re thinking, and it wasn’t all bad. My brothers tried to be there for me, and we had fun when we could.”

She smiles, a little melancholy thinking of the brothers that she’d roughhoused with when she was younger and feels that little pang of sadness when she remembers they are not nearly as close as they were when they were kids, but regardless she knows she wants to let Jay in, so she chuckles to herself and starts to offer some insight to the good parts of her childhood.

“We used to build pillow forts all the time,” Hailey snuggles down into the bed, grinning as she recalls the all the messes they made in their hidden sanctuary that was the attic.

That’s where they would go when they wanted to pretend that they had a normal childhood. No one ever went up there except for them and it was fairly soundproof, so they felt safe to have a little fun without their father hearing.

“We would take all of the pillows and sheets and blankets off of our beds and haul them up the ladder leading to our attic and then my brothers would hang the sheets from the rafters, and we would pile the pillows underneath so we had a soft place to lay.”

There is a soft smile playing at Jay’s lips now and she’s glad she is sharing this rare piece of childhood wonder with him.

She wonders if he is imagining a little girl with blonde pigtails and a wide smile and some part of her hopes that that little girl is not her, but another little girl that plays with her siblings and instead of blue eyes she has green with two parents who are laughing right alongside her.

“I would crawl under those blankets and pretend like it was my mansion and that my brothers were my servants,” Jay laughs at this and Hailey gives a rueful smile, “Most of the time they were happy to indulge and if my oldest brother was in a really good mood, he was usually persuaded into reading to us younger kids.”

Jay smirks, “Now why do I get the impression that you had all your brothers wrapped around your little finger?”

She smirks right back, “Well, it’s not my fault that I was just so dang cute.”

“No, no it’s not,” He says softly, his expression suddenly so open and vulnerable she can’t help but blush.

She yawns, a sudden wave of exhaustion washing over her, and it effectively breaks any moment they were about to have as a smirk reappears on Jay’s face, “Looks like the meds are starting to kick in.”

Hailey noticed that the sharp, throbbing pain she’d woken up with had lessened to a dull ache and that her head was starting to feel fuzzy, so she knew he was right.

Yawning again, she let her eyes close, humming, “Tell me another story about you and Will.”

She hears him shift, and she knows he is settling into the pillows before his gentle voice overtakes her senses and she’s carried off with dreams of little Halstead boys with green eyes and red hair.[EF1]

She’s woken by a beam of sunlight shining straight into her eyes and the last thing she remembers is listening to Jay’s soothing voice as he told her about the time he fell out of his second-story bedroom window because Will had reversed all the locks in the house as a prank and he was trying to get out.

Apparently, the only thing that had saved him from breaking something was the shed that was under his window and Hailey remembered thinking as she drifted off to sleep that it truly was a wonder that Jay had lived this long between his childhood misadventures and his penchant for getting shot in adulthood.

Turning, she is half-expecting to find him asleep beside her, but he is not there, and the mattress is cold enough that she knows he’s been gone for a while. One look at the clock tells her he has because it’s ten AM and she’s never known the man to sleep past six.

True, she’s not well-acquainted with his sleeping schedule, but she knows enough about him to know that his time in the army instilled early morning habits. Even if he was injured and she was staying with him she would find him awake by at least seven.

Carefully stretching, Hailey is pleased to find herself in significantly less discomfort than she’s experienced over the past few days and she’s hopeful that she will be able to be more mobile than she was yesterday.

She slowly pushes herself upright and looks around for any sign of Jay. His wallet and watch are missing from the nightstand and the door to the bathroom is open, so she feels safe assuming that he has gone out somewhere.

Her stomach growls and she hopes he is getting them breakfast.

It is then that she notices all the chairs and tables have been pushed to the middle of room and there are sheets stretched out over them in a semblance of a fort. The pillows that they weren’t using were thrown underneath and she feels tears prick her eyes because of course, Jay would make her a pillow fort after learning what they meant to her.

Throwing back the covers, she gently swings her legs over the edge of the bed to stand up, rubbing her eyes as a grin makes its way onto her face. She wasn’t lying when she’d told him that pillow forts were something that brought back good memories of her brothers, but she has a feeling that they may be taking on a whole new meaning to her from now on.

Of Jay and hotel rooms and lazy mornings. And if things fall into place, sometime in the future they will mean living rooms and slow kisses and little feet.

Her gaze catches the book lying on her nightstand. Her eyes sparkle as she grabs it and makes her way over to the fort, carefully squatting down so she could crawl underneath the ‘roof’ made of white sheets held up by chairs and heavy objects.

Settling comfortably on her back in the midst of the pillows piled on the floor, Hailey opens her book to her last marked page and gets lost in the world of Farewell to Arms.

She doesn’t know how much time has passed before her ears prick up at the sound of the hotel door being opened. She listens as Jay swings it open, catching it before it slams back into the latch as he softly calls out her name.

Staying quiet, she hears the crinkle of bags being sat on the kitchen countertop, Jay calling out her name a second time before he’s silent again, his footfalls coming closer to her spot under his fort.

She watches as his legs appear in her line of vision, his head suddenly making an appearance a few seconds later when he swoops down.

Hailey grins, “Hi.”

Jay grins back in amusement, “Hi,” He squats down in front of her, still just outside the fort, “I take it you found my surprise?”

“Mmhm,” She hums, the sparkle in her eyes softening sincerely, “Thank you, Jay. And not just for this, but for everything you’ve done for me.”

He shakes his head, “Hailey,” He pauses and huffs out an incredulous chuckle, “you don’t ever have to thank me.”

Unexpected tears spring in her eyes as his words touch her in a way she can’t quite describe. She ducks her head and blinks rapidly, trying to dissipate them before clearing her throat and looking back at Jay.

She uses her head to gesture at the space beside her and arches an eyebrow, “You coming in or what?”

Jay laughs, rolling his eyes as he slips off his shoes and carefully maneuvers his tall frame under the sheet roof.

Laying down next to her, he notices the book laying loosely in Hailey’s hands. He nods to it, giving it a pointed glance before looking at her and smirking playfully, “You want me to read to you?”

This time, she rolls her eyes and lets her body sway to gently bump him, “You want to read Ernest Hemingway to me?”

Shrugging, he plucks the book out of her hands and flips through it, “You got anything else?”

“No,” She shakes her head, “It’s the only thing I brought.”

Jay sighs as he looks at the title ruefully, “A Farewell to Arms, Hailey. Really? This is like the most depressing book on the planet.”

Frowning, she gives him an affronted look, “This is one of my favorites!”

He raises his eyebrows, shaking his head in disbelief, “I will never understand it, but okay,” He opens the book again, thumbing through the pages trying to distinguish what part she’s at because almost all the pages are dog tagged from overuse, “Where are you at?”

She diverts her gaze quickly, scrunching up her nose sheepishly before giving him a wry look, “I just got to book five.”

Jay gives her a look that says ‘really’ and huffs out a sigh as he turns to the last section, “I mean the whole book is depressing, but this is arguably the worst part.”

“But it’s so good, Jay,” She insisted, settling her head down into the pillows waiting for him to start reading.

He shakes his head again but turns his gaze to the page and starts to read, his voice gentle and lilting. Hailey thinks she could listen to him read to her for a lifetime and never get tired of hearing him.

He reads about the Henrys living in their cabin and then about Catherine preparing for the baby. When he gets to the part where she goes into labor, Jay notices a melancholy look in Hailey’s eyes as she lays quietly listening next to him, playing with her loose hair as she looks up at the billowing, white sheet.

Then he gets to the part where the doctor wants to do a C-Section and Jay swears he hears Hailey sniffling when he gets to the part where the nurse tells Frederic that the baby was dead.

He is almost to the end now, and he is surprised to find himself choking up just slightly as he reads line after line of Frederic pleading with God to save his wife. Hailey is definitely tearing up at this point and when he reads the last couple of lines, she wipes away the tears and sighs as he closes the book, clearing his own throat.

They lay there in silence for a few minutes before Jay feels like he can speak after going through that emotional rollercoaster of an ending, “God, Hailey, how do you like this?”

She shrugs, turning her head towards him and he’s slightly surprised at how close they were. If he wanted, he could barely dip his head and be kissing her.

“It’s beautiful in a gut-wrenching kind of way,” Her eyes have this inquisitive look in them, and it reminds him of how she looks when she’s going over files, trying to piece together backgrounds for motives.

He can’t help but scoff at her response, “It’s devastating is what it is. I mean the poor guy survived the war just to have his wife and child die all in one day.”

He shudders, rapidly pushing the unbidden, very unwanted image of Hailey in the same situation. God, he couldn’t even imagine, and he and Hailey were just barely on the cusp of being together.

“But it’s life,” She offers softly, a knowing look on her face and this time the look in her eyes is of someone who has seen a lot of death and unfair endings, “We know all too well how cruel this world can be.”

Jay sighs in acknowledgement, letting his head drop as they both quietly think about Hailey’s loaded statement.

He puts the book out of the way and rolls onto his side so he’s fully facing her, “Life is cruel, but it can be really beautiful too. Even in the pain.”

Hailey is quiet for a moment as she watches him, contemplating his words before she cocks her head, a strange little smile on her face, “Who knew Jay Halstead could be such a philosopher.”

Jay can’t help chuckle, his eyes crinkling merrily as he teases, “Who knew Hailey Upton could be such a sentimentalist.”

She rolls her eyes playfully, “I guess your game was good for something then. We are just partners; I guess we don’t know everything.”

She said it teasingly because they both know that they knew the things that mattered, but then Jay looks at her and she can’t quite make out the expression on his face.

“I guess so,” He murmurs back, their eyes locking, and Hailey can feel her smile fading from her face as Jay’s gaze darts to her lips.

She felt like she couldn’t breathe.

The air had shifted from light and playful into something of hopeful anticipation as they both held their breath because this was it. Somehow, she knew that this was the moment they both have been waiting for.

“Hailey,” The way he says it brings her back to flying bullets and quiet break rooms; to teary eyes and soft whispers when the threat of being spilt up was very real and too overwhelming to think about.

He’d said her name then just like he was saying it now, breathy and gentle and maybe even a little bit scared. And just maybe, Hailey thought, they had been on the edge of this for far longer than she’d even realized.

“You know, I think I have just one more question for you,” It was barely a whisper, his minty breath ghosting over her face.

Her own shallow breathing had nothing to do with her bruised ribs and stitched side but everything to do with the way his forehead was almost touching hers as they lay on their sides underneath the fort made from sheets and pillows.

The joking and the laughter and the bright sunlight of a hopeful day shining through the white sheets, surrounding her and she feels it in her bones that this is the monumental moment of their great love story—the start of a beautiful life bursting with love and tears and pain and joy and pillow forts and all the things that come with loving each other; of building a family together.

Her eyes were lidded as she looked into those brilliant green irises that she loved so much, and the feeling of warmth and affection and pure adoration washed over her as Jay’s gaze dropped to her lips before his eyes closed completely, slowly breathing her in.

Their lips were almost touching now as they lay in the quiet of a lazy afternoon of an ordinary Sunday afternoon and it was in the way it was just so natural, so comforting that made her feel like she’d just had a glass of warm milk and was now tucked up in bed.

But that tingling feeling she had low in her belly and rushing through her bones was so much better than she’d ever felt before and she knew it was much more than just an ordinary Sunday—it was an extraordinary Sunday.

“And what question would that be?” She was almost afraid to talk even at a whisper for fear of breaking the spell they were under, but the barely murmured question was filled with hope and love and affection, adding a deeper layer of warmth to the bubble they had created.

“Are we only just partners?” His nose skimmed hers as he moved his head slightly, his slightly open lips almost touching her cheek in the barest hints of a kiss.

Hailey hummed, letting out a soft little sigh as she gently ran her hands up Jay’s torso, stopping at his chest, her touch light and soft.

“Do only just partners fly all the way to New York?” It was a rhetorical question spoken in hushed tones as Jay gently nuzzled her neck before bringing his head back up to gaze at her, their lips once again mere millimeters apart. She swallowed faintly, “Because I think we both know that we aren’t just partners.”

His eyes held soft tenderness and fierce devotion, the quiet future she’d dreamed for them reflecting so clearly back at her. The pads of his fingertips touched her cheek so scarcely it almost tickled, “I’d follow you anywhere, Hailey. To New York, back to Chicago,” His gaze burned into hers and she knew he was getting ready to say the words she’d been hoping to hear for so long.

She felt the fingers of his other hand tangle with hers by their sides, “To the edge of the universe and everywhere in between. Wherever you are, I am, because you are the person I always want to come home to.”

She felt the promises land on her lips more than she heard them, his voice was so soft and quiet. And Hailey thought it was perhaps the most intimate she’d ever been with a person.

It was vulnerable and gentle and warm and just pure, unadulterated love, and she knew she would never be able to put this feeling or this moment into words, but she knows that this is where she belongs; next to him, in his arms, his heart beating under her palm.

She barely had time to whisper, “Oh Jay” before his lips were softly pressing against hers in an intentional kiss instead of fleeting brushes. It was unhurried and really quite innocent as far as kisses go, but she’d never felt more cherished than she did in that moment.

His lips just barely moved against hers, languidly filling her up as he kissed her in the way one would savor the taste of something new yet familiar.

A last first kiss.

Jay pulled back slightly, their lips still touching as he looked at her, his strong but gentle hand cupping one of her cheeks, “Because you are my home. The person I want to share it all with—the joy and the pain. The person I want to tell my secrets to. To whisper all the hopes and dreams and promises. And that’s why I love you.”

Maybe he’s crazy for telling her what he so deeply feels in his heart right away, but then he looks at her and he knows it isn’t. They were already closer than most couples ever are, and he thinks that’s what makes them so special—so different from any other relationship he’s ever had.

It isn’t crazy because it’s true and they are them.

He knows she’s already seen the truth in his eyes anyway.

When Jay walks into the hotel room later that day, arms laden with Greek takeout, he does he wanted to do last night and calls out a ‘honey, I’m home’ in a teasing manner.

Hailey smiles at him brightly, her eyes shining with the laughter that’s so clearly on her face, and he can’t help but drop a kiss on her dimpled cheek, marveling at the way tonight was so vastly different from the night before.

It was so easy now, to just drop a kiss to her cheek or her lips whenever he wanted, like he’d been doing it for years and yet, he still had that buzzy feeling of anticipation that he’d had this morning when he kissed her for the first time.

Something tells him that it’s going to always feel like that when kissing her no matter how many times he does it over the course of their lifetimes and that thought alone sends his heart racing and makes him think dangerous things like rings and vows and forevers.

He knows, he knows, it’s definitely way too early for those types of thoughts, but then again, that has never stopped him from imagining a future with her before. Before they were even together. But now they are, and it’s proving difficult to not think about the thing that he’s wanted for so long is realistically and finally within his grasp.

“What?” She’s cocking her head, her lips quirking up in a question and he realizes he’s been staring at her for the past couple of minutes.

Jay shakes his head, lips quirking up in a smile of his own, “Nothing.”

Hailey gives him an inquisitive look like she’s not entirely sure she believes him, but the grin on her face tells him she’s too happy to care. She turns back to where she is gingerly picking up the room, gathering their collective dirty laundry to throw in the washing machines downstairs and he is suddenly, once again struck with the thought of this is what he wants his future to look like.

“What are we gonna do for the next couple of days? I’m probably not up for traipsing all over New York, but we should do something other than stay in this hotel room.”

Her back is to him as she talks and continues to tidy the messy room, leaving the fort for now, but gathering up a few pillows that are laying on the floor to throw back on the bed.

“We’d both go crazy, especially considering I’m not allowed to do anything ‘physically active’ which is, not going to lie, kind of a bummer seeing as how I’ve waited for ages for you to make a move and we’re here totally alone with nothing to potentially interrupt us,” She rattles on casually like she’s talking about the weather and while he is also bummed at not being able to take that final step of being together totally and completely for another couple of weeks, he is thrilled that they have this time together to get to know each other as a couple.

There are more intimate things than just sex and those are the moments he is looking forward to. He wants to know what she finds romantic and how much she likes to cuddle and if she hogs the blankets at night or if her feet get cold.

Things that only a boyfriend would know.

He realizes she’s stopped talking and is looking at him again, this time with an eyebrow raised in exasperation, “Jay! Have you been listening to me at all?”

He blinks and shakes his head sheepishly, knowing she must have been waiting on an answer to a question he hadn’t heard.

Her eyes furrow inquisitively as she shakes her own head in slight amusement before turning back to her task, muttering something about how he was an idiot, but she loves him anyway.

“Hailey,” He blurts it out, like he’s desperate, like if he doesn’t say what he wants now then he’s afraid it’ll never happen. She looks back at him again, this time with a hint of concern on her face, but he’s just looking at her like a man in love and she’s his whole world.

“Let’s get married.”

“Well, look who it is! The elusive damsel and her brooding knight in shining armor,” Adam exclaimed, his arms flung out wide as Jay and Hailey made their way up the steps and into the bullpen.

Hailey glared at him, but the smile threatening to take over her face ruined the effect, “Ha ha, very funny. A girl goes away for a while and she’s suddenly elusive, she gets hurt and now she’s a damsel.”

She accepts the gentle hug that Adam was offering as Kevin and Kim crowded in behind them at the top of the steps, waiting for their turn to welcome her home.

“Hailey, you can’t ever leave again. Or if you do, you gotta take me with you because one more day alone with these children and I would’ve lost my mind,” Kim insists as she moves in for a hug of her own.

There was a chorus of affronted heys’ from Adam, Kevin and Jay as Hailey chuckled at the desperation in Kim’s voice.

“Also, clearly you need us watching your back because the second you go off without us, you get hurt,” The statement is meant to be funny and it gets the eye-roll it deserves, but Hailey knows this is Kim’s way of saying she’s glad she’s okay.

Hailey is sure had they been alone, Kim would have been more direct with her feelings of relief, but as women in the force, they had to be careful not to exude to much sentimentality even if they know their unit would never use it against them.

“We sure did miss you, girl,” Kevin tells her as he steps up for a hug of his own and she grins into the man’s broad chest when she hears Jay mutter a, “And what am I? Chopped liver?”

Adam starts to tease him, but whatever he was about to say is cut off by Kim’s loud gasp as she all but yanks Hailey’s hand which was still resting on Kevin’s back to her face.

“Oh my God,” The squeal that comes out of her mouth is one none of them had ever heard before as she pulls on Hailey’s arm, bringing her fingers to eyelevel as she narrowed in on something that hadn’t been there before.

“Did you get married?!”

That definitely got the other’s attention, Kevin and Adam’s heads’ immediately snapping over to look at Hailey’s left hand that Kim still had a hold of, “Holy crap, Hailey. You go away for like five weeks and you come back freaking married?”

Hailey tries retracting her hand, but Kim still has a tight hold on it, staring at the engagement and wedding band on her ring finger of her left hand. She opens her mouth to say something, but she doesn’t get very far before Kim’s talking again, “I’m sorry, but who the hell did you marry?”

There is a beat of silence before Adam curses under his breath, muttering a ‘no way’ as he practically leaps across desks to grab Jay’s left hand which was rifling through his duffel bag. Much like Kim did with Hailey, Adam brings Jay’s hand to his face, pulling him half-way across his desk and ignoring his protests.

“Holy no way,” Kim’s eyes were about as wide as saucers as they all glanced back and forth between the two partners.

“You two got freaking married?” Kim says again, her voice at an unnaturally high pitch.

Hailey can’t help but smirk at Kim’s expression as she sits down with her mouth slightly agape and has to suppress a laugh at Kevin and Adam’s matching dumbfounded expressions. She shares a secret look with Jay, the sparkle of laughter evident in his eyes.

She glances over their friends before shrugging and offering a simple, “Surprise!”

“I think I’m going to throw up,” Adam states as he slowly sinks into his desk chair, his face whiter than Hailey had ever seen it.

She knew their news would be a shock, but she didn’t think it warranted this strong of a reaction. Jay sends her another look that says the same thing and she knows he’s about to ask Adam if everything was okay when Kevin starts laughing.

“Oh man. Dude, what did we tell you?” He snorts, holding out an opened palm as Adam looks up at him in disbelief.

“I didn’t think it would actually happen and you told me nothing of the sort,” He defends, looking very uncertain, his eyebrows furrowed in distress.

Swallowing, Adam finally looks at them, flicking his eyes between her and Jay, “You told Trudy, didn’t you? Why would you do that?”

Jay shoots Hailey a look before slowly shaking his head, “No, Adam, we didn’t tell anyone.”

His face goes even whiter than it was before, and he sinks out of his chair to sit on the floor, burying his head in his hands.

Kim’s eyes widened and she looked at Adam warily, “Adam, what did you do?” Her eyes narrowed in alarmed suspension, “Don’t tell me you actually made that bet with Trudy.”

Adam was now lying flat on his back in the floor, his head moving back and forth in misery as he groaned, “I thought I had it in the bag. I mean, if Jay and Hailey didn’t tell her then how the hell did she come up with exactly what happened? That’s one hell of a coincidence.”

Kevin shook his head in slightly terrified admiration, “I don’t know, man. Trudy Platt is as mysterious as they come, and she has mad skills.”

Hailey’s eyebrows furrow as she watches Adam’s dramatics play out in front of her, “What bet? What are you guys talking about?”

Kim and Kevin share a look, ignoring Adam who was still moaning in disbelief on the floor behind his desk and at Kevin’s shrug, Kim looks back at Hailey and Jay.

“Well,” She draws it out like one who is coming clean about something they don’t particularly want to divulge, “We’ve had bets going for a while on when you two were going to get together because we all knew this was going to happen sooner or later and we decided the other day that it was going to be sooner rather than later because of the whole New York thing.”

“And somehow Trudy ended up pitching the idea of you guys eloping and I guess Adam was stupid enough to take the bet,” She purses her lips, “Not that any of us actually thought you were going to get married. Together, yes, but married?”

Kim trails off and Hailey’s eyebrows arch warily, “Wait a second. What do you mean ‘we all knew this was going to happen sooner or later’? Because to be completely honest, I didn’t even know if it was going to happen till a few days ago.”

“Girl,” Kevin shakes his head and uncrosses his arms to put his hands in his pockets, “You have no idea the amount of gossip you guys generate down in patrol. You two are like a freaking slow-burn romance novel,” At Kim’s odd look he hurries to add, “Not that I know anything about those. That’s just what Vanessa says and honestly, this whole thing was started by her so you can just go find her in whatever undercover operation Narcotics has her in and bring it up with her.”

There is a slightly uncomfortable pause as Hailey and Jay take in the information that they are already a source of gossip in the district, but it’s broken by another one of Adam’s distressed groans.

“Man,” Jay looks over at him, his eyebrows arching like he was finally fed up with his friends’ bemoaning, “What the hell kind of deal did you make with Trudy.”

Kim crosses her arms, also clearly unimpressed, “You know, I’d also like to know what has you rolling around like you’re in state mourning.”

“I didn’t think they were actually going to get married, or I would have never made the bet,” Adam insists again, running his hands over his face, “I owe her a months’ worth of drinks at Molly’s, and I have to do school crossings for the rest of the school year.”

Jay laughs, “Oh man,” He shakes his head in amusement, “You do realize it’s only February, right?”

Adam glared at him, “Oh shut up.”

Clambering to his feet in a huff of despair, he heads dejectedly towards the stairs, “I guess I’d better go settle up before Platt comes up here to rub it in my face.”

They watch him go, each trying to hold in snorts of laughter before he disappeared around the corner and Kevin turns back to where Hailey and Jay have taken up residence at Hailey’s desk.

“I still can’t believe you two are actually married,” He rubs his face briefly with an astonished huff of laughter, “Together, I could believe. In fact, I have money on it, but married? Like, what inspired you to skip the dating phase?”

Hailey and Jay share an amused look, her expression changing imperceptibly before Jay turns back to Kim and Kevin, “I guess we should probably come clean.”

They look a little confused for a moment before Kim creases her forehead skeptically, “Wait a second,” Her eyes widen in realization before she slowly starts to speak, “Are you telling us that was all a joke?”

“Well,” Hailey smirks, starting to remove the wedding and engagement bands on her finger as Jay did the same with the wedding band he was wearing, “The married part was a joke but the together part,” She looks at Jay and he gives her a soft smile full of warmth and love, “That’s for real.”

“Wait, seriously?” Kevin gave an impressed grin, chuckling, “So, Adam didn’t really lose that bet?”

Jay shrugged, grinning, “No, not technically,” He winks, “but we don’t need to tell him that.”

“I honestly can’t believe that turned out as well as it did,” Hailey shakes her head in disbelief, “We had no idea Adam had made that bet with Trudy. We just thought it was too good of an opportunity to pass up.”

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t because that was entertaining as hell and I for one am going to enjoy watching Adam carry out a bet he actually didn’t lose,” Kim flops down in her desk chair, powering up her computer as she laughs.

Kevin follows suit, laughing as they all turn to their computers to start the workday. They have to smother snickers when half an hour later, Adam trudges up the steps with a smug looking Trudy Platt following him, rattling off his new school crossing schedule.

“I can’t tell you how good it feels to be back,” Hailey sighs, leaning into Jay as they walk out of the district and into the roll-up, Jay’s arm slung around her shoulders.

He kisses the side of her head, “It feels good to have you back. I know I’ve said this before, but nothing was the same while you were gone. I hope everything will start to go back to normal now that you’re here with me.”

Hailey suddenly extracts herself out from under his arm and puts a good couple of inches distance in between them. Jay frowns, confused at her sudden coldness, “Hailey?”

“What?” She gives him an innocent look, a smile starting to tug at her lips, “You said you hope things go back to normal. This is normal for us.”

Jay gives her an unimpressed look, “Ha ha. Very funny. You know what I meant.”

She chuckles and lets Jay sling his arm over her shoulders again as they continue to walk over to where he parked the truck earlier.

“A new normal then,” He amends, “One where I get to kiss you and touch you and tell you how much I love you.”

Nestling her head into his shoulder, she looks up at him with a heartfelt smile, “Sounds good to me.”

They are at the truck now and Jay walks with her to the passenger’s side before stopping to turn and face her, his hands coming to rest on her upper arms. He takes a breath and Hailey’s eyebrows furrow at the almost nervous expression he is wearing, “I know that whole marriage thing today was a joke, but I meant what I said while we were in New York.”

Hailey remembers the initial shock she felt when Jay had blurted out that they should get married as they stood in their hotel room mere hours after their first kiss. He hurried to add that he meant sometime in the future, but he wanted to let her know how serious he was about this relationship even if it was way to early by most standards to be talking about marriage.

She’d listened to him ramble on uncharacteristically about how he loved her, that she was it for him and he just wanted her to know that. That one day in probably the near future he wanted to ask her for real and he hoped beyond all belief that she would say yes because he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her but even if she didn’t want to get married, he was okay with that. He just wanted to be with her on any terms.

After she got over the surprise of his statement, she found that she wasn’t frightened by how fast things seemed to be moving and if it had been anyone other than Jay, she knew deep in her bones that she would be running for the hills at even the hint of marriage.

But it was Jay and if she were being honest, she would’ve married him back in New York if he’d asked her to and she would marry him tomorrow if he dropped down on his knee right now to propose to her.

Jay swallowed and she could see his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, “You are it for me and someday, I’m going to ask you to marry me. I hope to God you say yes, but I want you to know that as long as I’m with you, my life is filled with purpose, so we don’t need to define anything with a piece of paper or anything. I just need you to know how serious I am about this.”

“Jay,” She interjects softly, placing a hand on his chest over his rapidly beating heart, “Today, tomorrow, ten years from now. If and whenever you ask me,” She smiles gently as she moves to cup his stubbled cheek, “My answer will always be yes.”

I hope the ending wasn’t too cringy, but I had to end it somewhere lol! As always, let me know what you thought!

Love you all and can’t wait to see you for my next project!

#upstead #upstead fic #chicago pd fanfic #hailey upton #jay halstead

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lordabovehelpme · 4 years ago

Text

Family Day- Din Djarin x Reader

This wonderful moodboard is brought to readers like you by @jedi-jesi (go give her some love. She’s a literal mastermind)

A/n: Cara is a flirt and I will except no other answer.

This is the next part to my Days filled with Love series! You can find the first part here :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Mommy! Look I’m flying!” Reeza screams out in delight as Paz lifts her around in the air.

“Very nice, sweetheart.” Smiling, you go back to stirring the soup you have planned for dinner.

“Hey magic hands!” Greef, loudly announces his arrival, instantly giong to pick up your eldest child.

Cara follows him with her signature smirk, “Hey mama.” Din’s hands tighten on your hips, but you shoo him away.

Leaving the soup and your husband's hands, you tickle Grogu’s nose in Greefs arms. “I’m so glad you two were able to make it!”

“And risk never experiencing your cooking again?” She scoffs but allows you to pull her into a large hug, her own arms eventually wrapping around your shoulders.

“You’re always welcome.” You shimmy from her arms with a wide smile, but you can feel the heavy stare of your husband on where you two were conjoined.

“Auntie Cara!” Myles rushes in from outside and tackles her.

“Hey little man!” She lifts him up into her arms and rubs his helmet. “Now you match shiny over there.” You just know under his helmet he has the biggest smile.

Paz walks over with Reeza still climbing from his limbs. “Do you need help with anything?”

Giving him a grateful beam, “No, I think I’m alright.” Isabet cries from her seat at the table. “Actually can you-”

“I’ve got it.” Before you can even finish your sentence, Paz has already taken Isabet into his arms. “Come on Di’kut, get your son, we’ll teach them how to wrestle like the good old days.” Walking out the door, Myles jumps from his aunts arms, and grabs her hand, leading her after his uncle. Greef, with Grogu in his arms, follows right after them.

Din’s hands find your hips once again and he slowly raises his helmet. Pressing a kiss to your cheek as he takes Tobbi from where he was strapped to your back. “We’ll be outside.”

“Mm, okay have fun. Don’t let Paz bruise them up too bad.” However, there is no true worry in your voice. You know for a fact that on any given day Paz would protect your children and your family as if they were his own.

***

You watch with a smile on your face as Paz lets all five of your children climb all over him outside. He really does love them as if they were his own.

“Mesh’la, why don’t you come outside?” Two hands grab your hips and turn you around.

“Din! You scared me!” Lifting his helmet to his forehead, you peer up into his brown eyes. “I’m almost done with dinner, then I’ll come out.”

He leans forward and attaches to your neck, his hands lift you up and set you on the counter. Walking forward, he lodges himself between your thighs. “You look so pretty in this dress.” One of his hands trails up from your knee, pulling the fabric of your yellow sundress to your hips.

Grasping his hair you giggle as his scruff tickles your collarbone. “Thank you. But you better not be planning anything right now mister.”

“Why? Everyone's outside, no one will know.”

“I can’t believe you’re even thinking of that while we have guests!” You pull him from your neck, but you can’t hide the soft smile on your face. He just whines, bottom lip pushed out in a pout that you can’t help but kiss.

“You two better not be making anymore kids in there!”

A squeak falls from your lips as Cara sticks her head in the kitchen. Heart rising to your cheeks as you push your dress back down to your ankles. Din only shoves his helmet back on his head and offers a mumbled, “I’m trying.”

She smirks at the two of you, leaning on the doorframe and crossing her arms. “Just wanted another drink of water. But it seems like a tall glass of it was waiting for me on the counter. Weren’t you little Mama?”

As you walk over to the fridge, you elbow your husband as he growls. Grabbing the ice cold water, you pour a glass for Cara and hand it to her. “Here you go.” Flashing her a smile, you take the fresh bread from the oven. “Could you do me a favor and tell everyone that dinner is ready?”

“Sure thing mama.” Downing her glass in one big chug, she sets the glass in the sink and walks back out the door.

“I don’t like that she calls you that.” Once again, his greedy hands pull at your flesh.

“She just does it because she knows it gets under your skin. It’s just how she teases you.” Pressing your forehead against his helmet, press a kiss to where his mouth would be. “Now can you go use these big muscles and grab three extra chairs?” Giving his biceps a firm squeeze to further prove your point. “If you’re good, I’ll give you a nice gift tonight, okay?”

He growls in approval and walks away, but not without delivering a firm smack to your bottom.

***

As the sun sets and fireflies start to rise from their slumber, laughter can be heard from the Djarin residence.

“And then-” Paz’s booming laughter fills the living room from where he sits on the floor, “then he just fell over! Like one second he was there and the next he was gone!”

“You never told me you fell off a blurrg.” Your own words falling soft as they try to sound through your giggles. The hand your husband holds is squeezed and you just know under that helmet his cheeks are rosy.

“He’s making it sound worse than it was.” His visor tilts down to look at Isabet who has fallen asleep in his arms, trying to hide his embarrassment.

Paz scoffs and tickles Reeza’s stomach, giggles erupting from where her limbs thrash around. “Your dad’s an idiot.”

It’s like a flip was switched in her mind. She wrangles herself from his hold and stands protectively in front of her father. “Daddy’s not an idiot! He’s the smartest person alive!” Her little scowl mirrors perfectly the one her father often throws you.

Greef chuckles and him and Cara share a glance.

Sounding prouder than he should be, Din states, “Yeah, hear that, smartest person alive.”

Paz crosses his arms, “Yeah because the “smartest” person would obviously cheat off of me on every single written test we had.”

“That was only one time! I wasn’t able to go to class because you broke my arm! It was only fair.”

“WHAT!” Snapping your head to the left, you peer at Din, needing explanation.

“You haven’t told her yet?” Paz, for once, actually sounds shocked.

“It’s embarrassing.”

“Oh come on shiny, now we all want to know. You’ve got mama over here on the edge of her seat.”

Myles looks up at you from where he sits between your legs on the floor. Studying your facial features as you eagerly nod at your husband.

“If he won’t say anything, I’ll tell it. So it was when we were about sixteen and seventeen.” Reeza, already enveloped into the story, places herself back into his lap. “We were friends with this one girl and I-”

“You had the biggest crush on her.” Din interjects.

“We were friends! Anyway, her birthday was coming up and WE wanted to get her something. But WE wanted it to be special, so WE decided to poke in her room while she was doing her training. You know, learn more about her.”

“So you were looking for her diary?” Cara asks.

“Uncle Paz isn’t that mean?”

Looking down at Reeza he says, “Never do anything that your father and I did when we were young. And no, not her diary. Something that told us more about her.”

“So a diary.”

Paz’s helmet tilts towards her and you know he's glaring. “Anyway, the major problem was, her room was on the second floor of the covert, so in order to get up there we had to climb through her window.”

“SO he elected me to stand on his shoulders and climb in.” Din huffs.

“You offered!”

“Yeah because I didn’t want to lift your fat-”

“DIN!” Slapping your hands over Myles ears, you yell over him.

“You’re just jealous that I’m taller and stronger than you. Anyway, we were about to make it in, but low and behold, she opened the door and it spooked Din.”

“No, you were scared because you liked her, so you lost your footing. So Paz fell over and I fell on top of him. I tried to catch myself, but I rammed my forearm right into Paz’s butt and we eventually found out I broke it.”

“Butt of steel baby.” Everyone besides Din breaks out in laughter at his comment.

“Not something you should be proud of.” Din huffs out beside you.

“Wait so how did this mystery chick respond?” Greef asks.

“Let’s just say we weren’t friends anymore.” Paz shrugs his shoulders. “Missed out.”

***

All five of the kids have been put down, it already being way past their bedtime.

“Come sit with me mama.” Cara pats her thighs and before you can respond Din pulls you into his lap.

“Tough luck.” Greef mocks her before sighing, “Anyway, we best be getting back. I’m dreading what’s going to be left of the city.” Cara rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

Standing up from your husband's lap, you rush into the kitchen. “Let me grab you some leftovers! Hang tight for one minute.” Throwing some soup, bread, and fruit into tupperwares, you hand them to Greef and a few to Cara.

“Thanks mama.”

Smiling, you pull her into one last hug, “Of course.” Letting her go and giving another hug to Greef, he gives you a firm pat to your back. “It was so good to see you guys.”

He smiles before leaning down and whispering in your ear, “You know, you really make him happy.” Shocked, you peer into his eyes searching for the usual jokes he cracks. He only nods and offers your husband a firm handshake. “Until later, Mando.” The two of them walk out and back to their ship.

“Guess that’s my cue.”

Turning to Paz you pout, “Oh no, you’re totally welcome to stay. We have the guest room for a reason.” Little do you know that behind you Din is glaring and signaling for him to leave.

“Ehhhh, umm, I don’t want to overstay my welcome. Plus, I have, umm, some stuff to do tomorrow.”

Giving him a big hug, you laugh as he picks you up. “Thank you for coming, it means the world to the kids.”

He sets you down and under his helmet he smiles, “You guys are my family, I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.”

Smiling, you watch as the two men hug each other as if they are never going to let go. It’s the truest form of a bro hug. They both have their arms at an angle and firm pats are delivered to each other's backs. Small whispers you can’t pick up are spoken between the two.

“Thanks for coming man.”

“For sure. Alright, I’m heading out. See you guys around.”

Waving at him from the porch, Din walks up behind you and grabs your hips.

Sighing, you relax into his embrace. His fingertips massage circles into your hips and his head rests on your shoulder.

“What is it?”

“I- uh, I think you promised me a gift earlier.” He pulls you back against his hips and you gasp at the way he’s poking your back.

“Already?”

“I can’t help it!”

Giggling you let him pull you inside. “Alright sit down and watch your show.”

“A show? Now I’m really excited!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Next Part: A Day Spent Alone

Hehehe I had too much fun writing this one. I hope you guys liked it!

As always, feedback is mega appreciated.

Love you all, Lordy :)

(Cara calling you mama is my new favorite thing)

Masterlist

Taglist: @ficthots @along-the-lines-of-space @jedi-jesi

If you want to be added/removed from my taglist, just give me a holler! :)

#din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #mando #mando x reader #mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #paz viszla #days filled with love

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a-sour-nectarine · 3 years ago

Link

Summary:

The memories froze him. He didn't realize that Obi-Wan was calling his name, increasingly urgent, or that the water had reached his hips. It was cold, not as cold as it had been back on Kamino, but still just above freezing. He could almost imagine the crimson light of the clock, the sneering face of the trainer. The trainer hadn't been inherently cruel, but years of torturing little boys did something to the psyche.

So Cody suspected, at least.

Finally, a cry of "Cody!" woke him from his reverie. Obi-Wan was sobbing on the other side of the chamber, in a way Cody have never seen him cry, hand gripping his hair tightly enough to stretch the skin above his ear.

The water was up to his chest now, and rising fast, and the panic was still tight in his chest, but he made himself look Obi-Wan in the eyes. Before he did though, he caught his own gaze. His face was smooth in the crystal, no scar marring his temple. He absently wondered how anyone would be able to tell who he was, stuck in a child's body with no scar.

Notes:

Everyone shut up, I was supposed to post this last night, but I fell asleep. I am aware that it's Monday. Don't want to hear it.

This is my fourth and final submission for Codywan Week 2021! I really tried to do all seven days, but for my first ever event like this, I don't think I did too bad.

Prompt is an alt, Sith/Jedi Artifact Shenanigans.

"Um, commander?"

"What, Waxer?" Cody said irritably, blinking sleep out of his eyes. Day three in the remains of this stupid temple, and Cody, General Kenobi, Waxer, Boil, and six shinies, all yet to be named, had been grating on each other's nerves nonstop.

"You might want to... um... check in a mirror."

"Lieutenant, unless you have a mirror with you, that's not gonna happen."

"I just, um. Hold on. I'll take a picture, send it to your HUD."

Seconds later, said picture showed up in front of Cody's eyes. "Oh, Force."

A sleepy voice from the back of the room piped up. "Force what?"

Cody removed his helmet and shared a look with Waxer. That was not a brother, but it didn't quite sound like the General either, meaning....

"Hey, General, you might wanna come over here." Waxer shrugged at Cody as he called out. Sure enough, the figure making it's way over to them was not the General, or, at least, not the General they were used to. He looked like a cadet.

Well, so did Cody, so who was he to judge?

"Oh, Cody!" Obi-Wan exclaimed once he noticed the commander's state. He didn't seem to be able to stop the smile pulling at his mouth.

"Ah-ah, speak for yourself, General."

Obi-wan squinted down at his robes, which were the same as the ones he went to sleep in. He was drowning in them, looking only slightly less ridiculous than Cody did in his oversized armor. "Well, this is unfortunate."

Boil snorted. "Maybe one of you is small enough to fit through that hole now.

The General lit up. "Brilliant, Boil. Someone boost me up."

Boil snorted again, but followed him to the far wall. It had been pretty destroyed in the explosion, though still pretty effective in keeping the ten of them trapped. But maybe, now that Cody and Obi-Wan were smaller...

"Wait, wait, we aren't going to address the fact that we are– small? What caused it?"

Obi-Wan's lips quirked up in a smile, and Cody noticed how much more expressive he was when clean-shaven. "Well, I suspect it was caused by the artifact that also triggered the explosion that trapped us here. So, personally, I'd rather worry about it later." He held up the small slate of rock, carved with languages none of them could read.

Cody gaped for a second. That was pretty good thing to say if Obi-Wan wanted all the men to immediately lose faith in either himself or Cody. They had never disagreed in front of the troops, no matter how minor the issue. Equally unusual, he felt the urge to snap back. It was like he was four all over again— Oh. He was, wasn't he?

"Alright, but if you make it through, expect me to follow."

"I was hoping you'd say that." Obi-Wan chirped, grinning like he had just won some huge award.

Turned out that they both did fit, though Cody had to get shoved through and his shoulders got a little scraped up. But it was worth it for the first breath of fresh air outside.

Obi-Wan turned to him, eyes wide, and laughed. "I was honestly not positive that would work."

Cody couldn't help but join him in his laughter, breathless and a little manic, before a voice called out from inside the rubble.

"Will you two grow up and go find a damn signal?"

That was definitely Boil, no one else would speak like that to their COs, even if their COs were children. Cody couldn't help but smile.

"Yeah, yeah, old man. We're going." Cody really was just content with losing all respect, wasn't he. Eh, he was four, he was allowed to be petulant. Besides, he doubted that the eight people still trapped under the debris would be telling anyone else. Not because he trusts them, hells no, but because the situation was almost as embarrassing for them as it was for him and Obi-Wan. After all, they were the ones whose shebs would be saved by children.

Obi-Wan held out his hand, and Cody took it without a second thought, not that he had time to. The Jedi took off the second he had a hold on Cody's fingers. They ran up to the closest hill they could find and surveyed the landscape. Nothing but red grass and blue flowers and crumbling old ruins as far as the eye could see. It was almost beautiful.

Until it started raining.

A couple of light drops of water was all the warning they got before the sky opened, absolutely soaking them immediately. Cody groaned and took off again–-still attached to Obi-Wan–-towards the nearest gray, stone building that looked like it still had a ceiling. As soon as they made it inside, they heaved out twin sighs of relief. The building wasn't completely waterproof, but it was good enough. They made their way into the middle of the floor, where there was the least amount of leakage, and Cody shook himself savagely. The rain outside was not slowing, in fact, it seemed to only get heavier as time went on. Lightning flashed every few seconds. The thunder was constant, but could barely be heard over the sound of the rain.

And then the walls came down.

Not "came down," as in they fell. "Came down," as in a separate set of walls dropped in from the soggy ceiling, completely (and separately) entombing Cody and the General. The walls were some kind of clear glass or crystal, faceted and almost completely transparent. The wall between them had gaps in it, sort of decoratively symmetrical.

"Uhh, Commander?"

"Yeah, sir, I noticed." Cody pounded on the wall, and it didn't even crack. Not glass, then. His enhanced strength would have taken care of glass that thick, child body or no.

In spite of the situation, Obi-Wan giggled, his voice echoing oddly from the other side of the crystal. "Cody, please don't call me "sir," it feels strange. I'm eleven."

"How can you possibly know how old you are?"

"No scar on my thumb. I rub it when I'm nervous, but right now there's nothing to rub."

"How do you know you aren't– I dunno, nine?"

"Just a guess, I suppose. I feel too tall to be nine. You, on the other hand, look younger than that."

Cody quickly crunched the numbers in his head. "S'pose that would make sense, if it's relative. I'm developmentally about 10 years younger than you. Twenty-four to thirty-five, eight to eleven."

"You're ignoring the fact that we are trapped."

"Yes, I am."

"That doesn't change the situation."

"I'm aware. But, as previously stated, I am eight years old. Four, actually. I'm trying not to panic. How are you calm?"

"Oh, I'm not. I'm actually fighting off a panic attack, if I am to be frank. This is almost exactly how Qui-Gon died, with me trapped on the other side of a ray shield. I just keep talking because it seems to distract me."

Cody cursed himself. He knew that, and it should have occurred to him that this was probably Obi-Wan's worst nightmare. He kicked his feet along the bottom of the wall, and noticed a particularly concerning fact. The crystal was growing. Not just randomly growing, it seemed to be specifically growing to cover the holes in the wall, creeping up and up. And, as if that wasn't worrisome enough, Cody's feet were wet. Not from the rain, but from the water seeping up from the floor. It was rapidly climbing higher, just a little below the level of growing crystal. The sound was rather pleasant, Cody noted, but he also noted that Obi-Wan's side of the little prison was completely dry.

The irony was not lost on him. And the irony was pretty kriffed up.

And it got worse once Obi-Wan noticed. The Jedi just let out a hysterical little laugh, and started pacing. "Wow, how wonderful."

"Hey, Ge–Obi-Wan, it's okay. It's okay. It's really slow."

Obi-Wan stopped pacing and stretched his hand through a hole at shoulder height, yet to be covered. Cody didn't even think before he grabbed the boy's (man's?) hand.

"It'll be okay," He repeated. "I'm fine."

The water was about knee high now, and the row of crystals at shoulder height were starting to close off. Cody pushed Obi-Wan's hand back just before the crystal could trap it there, and Obi-Wan let out a pained sound, pressing up against the wall. It hurt Cody. Hurt him more that being trapped, than the memories he had at this age, the memories that this water chamber was starting to dredge up.

Watching his brothers take their turns in the tank, none coming out conscious. "It's for your training," the longnecks had said. It felt like torture to Cody. Though, he supposed, maybe that was the point. It's hard for torture to frighten you if you have already experienced worse.

His turn now, he pulled on the breathing mask and stepped into the tank. It started filling up from the tubes in the sides, and the cold water shocked him a little. He watched the blinking, red light outside on the wall, until it counted up to three minutes. As soon as it hit three, he took a deep breath and shoved the mask off his face, and the clock started counting down again. Could he make it?

No. He woke up later in the medbay.

Like he always did.

So Cody suspected, at least.

"It's alright," he said as the water carried him up, up, toward the top of the chamber. It wasn't nearly far enough away.

"I'll be fine," he called as he felt his head press against the ceiling. Too soon.

"I'm okay," he lied, then took a deep breath, right before the water covered his mouth and nose.

The clock ticked down, 2.59, 2.58, 2.57...

He sank back down, keeping his eyes open and on the crying boy leaning on the wall. Cody smiled and pressed his hand against the crystal.

1.46, 1.45, 1.44, 1.43...

Obi-Wan frantically pushed his own hand against Cody's through the wall. His other fist pounded at the crystal, to no avail. Cody's lungs were starting to burn.

1.03, 1.02, 1.01...

Cody's vision got darker, but he kept his gaze on Obi-Wan. Through the water, he looked distorted, but his eyes were unmistakable. Blue, bright with tears, creased with grief. Cody thought that it had been a while since he had seen those eyes smile. He hoped they would again, maybe after the Wars. Long after Cody was gone. He hoped this wouldn't break Obi-Wan beyond repair. His gaze really did go black now, and the clock in his memory blinked just twice more.

0.01, 0.00.

He felt a satisfied smile pull on his lips. He made it.

~~~~~~~~

Obi-Wan saw Cody's eyes close, and he cried out. "Cody! Stay with me!"

He couldn't ask that of him. It was selfish and impossible. But Obi-Wan felt so small, so helpless. It was just like when Qui-Gon had died, and he could do nothing. Nothing.

"Not nothing," a voice chided. "You can change it, this time."

A different voice swirled around him. "He must learn."

The first voice pressed in. "This will only break him. You are strong, child. Use it."

The soft voice was right. If he lost Cody right now, he would shatter. There would be no Obi-Wan Kenobi to put together, not like there had been last time. He would never come back. Maybe that was what the Code aimed to prevent when it forbade attachments. He had never been good at staying away from those he loved.

But there was no way to get to Cody.

"The power. It is yours to use, young one. Focus it."

"What power?!" He yelled, sounding like a child, even to his own ears. He was a child, actually. No response. Obi-Wan took a deep breath and placed his hands on the crystal wall, tears slipping down his cheeks as he closed his eyes. And he focused. It was like meditating, but more. He felt it. Power. Flowing through his very being. That was what the voice meant. It felt like an ocean, pushing and pulling at him, flowing through him. He waited, waited....

And pushed.

The crystal around him shattered. Shattered like Obi-Wan, because he surged forward and Cody was in his arms and he was him again, filling out his armor, scar across his temple but he was still and cold. Obi-Wan lowered Cody to the ground, brushing the shards of crystal away with his mind, and cried again. "Cody, Cody please. Wake up." He gulped in a breath of air. "Commander, wake up! That's and order!" And he used the power and he pushed the water out of Cody's lungs, but he still didn't stir. He heart had all but stopped, and he wasn't breathing. Obi-Wan used the power again and gathered the Force around Cody's lungs, breathing for him, in--out--in--out--in--

That's when Obi-Wan noticed the crystal in his hand. He would have dismissed it, thrown it with the rest of the shards of crystal littering the floor around him, if not for the glow.

"It is for him. This was as much his trial as it was yours."

The sense of desperation flooded him again, and he fought back tears. What use would Cody have for the crystal if he was dead? But he pressed it to the commander's chest anyway.

"Cody, don't leave. Please wake up. You have to wake up."

And then it was like Cody had heard him, because he coughed and shivered. Obi-Wan released his grip on the Force, because he didn't need it anymore, because Cody was breathing on his own. He squeezed his eyes shut and the scar on his temple stretched. Obi-Wan sobbed in relief and pressed a kiss to Cody's forehead, because he was alive, and they had passed whatever test they had been given, and they were alive.

And that would do for now. That would be enough until they had to go find help, until they had to get the squad out, until they found someone who could help.

Because Obi-Wan was not going to lose anyone today.

#codywanweek2021 #commander cody #obi wan kenobi #there were many external factors that influenced this fic #its far from my best work #but kinda interesting at least

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qlala · 3 years ago

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pleeease can we have more teacher barry au? or kidfic? my crops are dying

Alright, sorry for the slight delay on this one, but please know that you're a menace and I kept thinking about it and then I wrote this for you all in one sitting.

It's both teacher!Barry (though still set in the canon universe!) and coldflash kidfic. <3 I just put it up as a prequel to "good cop, bad cop" on ao3, since I guess it technically is that? Although, if you guys have opinions about what order the series should be in, I'd interested to hear it!

“Barry?”

“Hm?”

“You’ve got something in your hair.”

Barry hid a wry grin, and glanced over at Len—at least, glanced as far in his direction as he could manage. Two small hands were holding his head still, though Henry did let go of one handful of Barry’s hair to reach out when Len stepped around the coffee table and stood in front of them.

“Alright, kid.” Len bent down and hoisted Henry off Barry’s shoulders, and both of them ignored Barry’s indignant yelp when Henry didn’t quite remember to let go of Barry with his other hand in time. “I like the hair too, but he’s gotta move his head to”—Len propped Henry on his hip and reached out to steal the top page from the stack of papers in front of Barry—“grade pop quizzes.”

“Those are midterms.” Barry stretched, then tipped his head to one side with a muffled crack.

“Then you’re going easy on them.” Len took advantage of his distraction to hand the paper to Henry, who scrunched it in his hand with a broad smile.

[read on ao3, or continue reading below the cut]

“Len!” Barry recovered the paper in a sweep of yellow lightning, and Len traced his trajectory from the fading after-image even as Barry tried to smooth out the test on the arm of the couch.

“So feet on the coffee table are allowed when the Flash does it?”

“Language,” Barry reminded him, without looking up.

Henry, ever the trooper, was taking the loss of his prize in stride, and Len rewarded him by bending his knees to let him reach for the next paper in the stack.

“Leonard.”

“He’s working on his reading.”

“He’s eighteen months old.”

Len read the upside-down paper Henry was offering to him. “Another year for whoever’s test this was, they might be at his level.”

Barry got the same ruffled look he always did when he was torn between defending his students and agreeing with every hyperbolic praise Len had for their son. Eventually, he landed on, “You’re not helping.”

“I disagree.” Len accepted the paper from Henry, turned it right-side up, and finished skimming it. “You’ve got a typo in question three. That’s why they’re all putting ‘hydrogen.’”

Barry yanked the exam back, despite having a stack of identical ones on the table in front of him. His eyes went wide as he looked over it at Flash speed, and then he said a word that made Len cover one of Henry’s ears with his free hand and tut.

“You shape the minds of the next generation with that mouth?”

Barry wasn’t listening, too busy dragging his hand down his face, his fingers ending up in an annoyed fist over his mouth.

“Can you please,” he said slowly, evenly, with the couples-shrink-approved, conflict-management voice that always made Len smirk, “give Henry his snack.”

“With pleasure.”

Barry leveled him a glare, but it was without heat, and he tilted his chin up in a clear request for a kiss when Len passed behind the couch again.

Len obliged. He could feel some of the stress drain out of Barry’s shoulders when he drew his fingertips over the edge of Barry’s jaw with the hand not still supporting Henry.

“Hi,” Barry murmured when Len pulled back, at least a full minute later than he’d intended. “Missed you.”

“I was gone an hour.”

Barry’s answering smile was crooked, with an unabashed dimple that Len refrained from tracing his thumb over; he had a reputation to protect. “You know, you could just say it back sometimes.”

“Fine.” Len smirked as he tweaked a cowlick that Henry had left in Barry’s hair. Then he met Barry’s gaze, all false sincerity, and drawled, “Hi.”

Barry rolled his eyes. He couldn’t hide the wry smile even when he turned his head away for a second, though, and he gave Len a playful glare. “You know I meant—“

“Hi!”

For a second, neither of them moved. Then Barry reeled back with something like panic in his eyes, alarmingly contagious, based on the way Len’s heart tripped into fourth gear. “Did he just—“

Len hoisted Henry up to sit on the edge of the couch, and they both stared at him. He ignored them both for a few moments, small hand squishing the cushion before he watched it slowly expand back to its original shape. Then he noticed their eyes on him, and looked up with a beatific smile. “Hi!”

Barry was off the couch in a bolt of lightning, then back a heartbeat later with his phone out, talking so fast he was nearly incomprehensible. “Twice, Joe, I swear, he looked right at us—“

Len got a glimpse of Detective West’s patient expression on the phone screen as Barry waved it toward Henry. “Barr, you said that the last three times. I told you, kids talk when they’re ready. Iris didn’t say a word until she was—“

Barry turned the phone and held the screen out to Henry. Len bit back a reflexive objection; they’d agreed, no screens until he was five (and it’d be eighteen if Len had his way).

Henry reached out for the phone, all Barry’s reckless confidence when confronted with anything new.

Tinny over the speakerphone, West’s voice said, weary but unflaggingly affectionate, “Hi, Henry.”

Barry let Henry have the phone—and that time, Len did shoot him a look—and Henry flattened a tiny palm over West’s face on the screen. Then he tilted his head thoughtfully, lifted his hand, and chirped a delighted, “Hi!”

Barry swept him up with a rush of static that made Henry shriek with laughter, phone forgotten in an instant. Barry deposited them both at Len’s side with a breathless grin, and Len didn’t quite manage to disguise his own smile as a smirk when they looked up at him in unison. West’s voice was still coming from somewhere nearby, but Barry could fish the phone out from between the cushions later. For now, Barry was getting suspiciously bright-eyed, and Len lifted Henry out his arms before Barry could set the kid off crying, too.

“Who had ‘hi?’” he asked. He ruffled Henry’s hair, already overdue for a cut, dark and curling up at the ends. Henry only allowed it a moment before he started to fuss, his snack clearly not forgotten despite the excitement.

“Iris,” Barry hiccuped. He wiped the heel of his hand over both cheeks, then said, “She had ‘hi’ and ‘bye.’ She’s gonna be insufferable.”

“She’s gonna be rich,” Len countered. “Mick put ten grand on ‘Flash.’”

Barry shook his head on a laugh. “You did explain to him that we’re specifically not letting people say that in front of him? Given the whole”—he gestured, with a glimmer of lightning that distracted Henry into a fresh smile—”child’s grasp of a secret identity?”

“And deprive the pool of his ill-gotten gains?” He passed Henry back to Barry and tapped him on the tip of his nose. “Never.”

“She’s just gonna put it in a college fund.”

Len hummed, and didn’t mention the account he’d already placed a quarter mil into at the credit union downtown.

Barry’s eyes narrowed all the same. “What was that?”

“What was what, dear?” Len leaned hard on the pet name, flat and sarcastic, but he knew even before Barry straightened up that it wouldn’t work.

“That ‘hmmm.’ That was an I’m-not-telling-you-something ‘hmmm.’”

Len was saved by the bell, literally.

Someone leaned hard on the buzzer to the front door. A second later—and utterly predictably, given the number of metas in the family Len had married into—Wally West phased through the door, bouncing on his toes and looking around the room before he even finished setting Iris on her feet.

“Joe says Iris won,” he said.

Barry tore his suspicious gaze away from Len to blink over at the new arrivals. “Joe knew about the pool?”

“People on six different earths knew about the pool, Barr,” Iris said. She leaned on Wally as she toed out of her work heels. “Now, give me my favorite nephew. Can you say, ‘journalism school,’ Henry?”

Barry let her scoop Henry out of his arms, his brow still furrowed. “Wait, six different earths? How much was in the pool?”

He sounded a hair indignant, and Len took the opportunity to snake an arm around his waist and pull him back against his chest.

“Say the word,” he murmured against Barry’s ear, smiling when he felt him shiver. “I’ll get you triple by dinner.”

He felt Barry’s heart speed up where his back was pressed against him, and Len nipped the shell of his ear to cement his victory.

“No felonies,” Barry reminded him, but his voice was breathless, and he didn’t disentangle himself from Len’s arms.

“Mm, forgot again,” Len lied. “How about we send Iris and Wally to show Henry’s first word to Joe in person, and I make it up to you?”

A blush was climbing steadily up Barry’s neck, and he’d already shown his hand when he said, “The midterms. Progress reports go out Friday, I have to—“

“Telling me the fastest man alive can’t grade a stack of ninth grade chemistry tests before third period tomorrow?”

“They’re for my AP class,” Barry gasped, and he caught Len’s hand where he’d been tracing his fingers down Barry’s stomach. But he cleared his throat, then said, “Iris? Maybe you wanna bring Henry to the station? It would make Joe’s day.”

Iris gave him a knowing look, but her eyes were warm when she shared her smile with Len. “Mm. I bet it’ll make someone’s day.”

“Singh’s, probably,” Wally said, where he’d been drawing increasingly elaborate flowers of static out of the speed force for Henry’s fickle amusement. Then he glanced up. “Oh. Oh, you meant—yeah. Alright. I’ll grab the diaper bag. And congrats, you guys. On the first word, not the—“

Iris patted his arm and interrupted with, “The station, Wally?”

Wally ducked his head on a nod and gave them both a sheepish grin.

“Make sure your father doesn’t arrest my sister,” Len said. “She’ll show up as soon as she gets the intel out of Cisco.”

“No promises,” Iris said. “But I’ll give him the heads up. Bye, boys.”

The after-image of Wally’s lightning hadn’t even dissipated when Barry dropped his back against Len’s shoulder, one foot tapping rapidly. “Are we bad parents?”

Len nosed at the corner of Barry’s jaw and slid his fingers under the hem of his shirt. “No.”

“Maybe we should—should’ve, uh, reinforced it, more. He might get—confused. He said ‘hi,’ but we—oh my god, did we even say ‘bye?’ Len—“

Len spun Barry and pushed him back against the couch, then kissed him to distract him from looking anxiously at the front door. “You’re overthinking this.”

“I’m overthinking this,” Barry agreed. “No, I’m not. Len, his snack—“

“There are snacks at the station. Joe has a drawer full of Cheerios.”

Barry slid a hand through his hair, gave one last jittery look toward the door, and then slumped back against the couch with a laugh. “You’re better at this than me.”

“Already did it once,” Len said, smoothing the worry out of Barry’s brow with the pad of his thumb. “And look how Lisa turned out.”

It didn’t land the way Len had aimed it to. Barry gave him a warm smile instead of an alarmed look, and Len had to tick his gaze away for a break from the earnestness in that expression.

“Yeah,” Barry said. “Yeah, okay. Now maybe we could, uh, stop saying our family members’ names for a little while?”

Len rolled his eyes, but he allowed Barry a brief smile as he hooked his fingers in the front of his belt. “I thought you’d never ask.”

[❤️ Link to Ao3 ❤️]

#coldflash #my fics #leonard snart #barry allen #the flash #teacher barry au

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tippedbykreider · 3 years ago

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i can’t pretend | m. zibanejad

Word Count: 1,750 words Warnings: Vague hint of jealousy, mentions of alcohol Summary: There comes a time where feelings must be confronted and you can’t pretend like you’re anything other than how you feel in your heart. Mika Zibanejad x Reader Author’s Note: Fic title is from Don’t Let Go by En Vogue but I was very much inspired by the Lusaint cover <3

Life is full of disappointments, despite all of our best intentions and no matter what we do to try and shield ourselves from them, sooner or later they will come knocking. You’d experienced disappointment before, of course you had, but none of them compared to the violent wrenching you felt in your stomach at the sight before you right now.

The loud music all around you faded into nothing and all you could focus on was the loud whoosh of your heart thundering in your ears, like a train passing at speed. Your eyes had suddenly found the vodka and coke you were holding very interesting and whatever conversation you’d been having with Chris and Pavel was quickly forgotten and while Pavel was still trying to work out exactly why your words had died on your tongue, Chris was surveying you with a worried expression and his hand was heavy on your knee.

Chris’s eyes had seen the same thing you had and he was perceptive enough to notice the way your face had fallen when Mika had walked into the bar with someone else, saw the way your shoulders sagged with the exhale of your breath and saw the sparkle that’d been in your eyes dull and diminish into nothing. He leaned in as he flexed his fingers on your leg reassuringly, voice low but still audible above the thumping bass.

“I had no idea he was bringing anybody, I swear.”

You shrugged nonchalantly at that, despite the ache in your chest and despite the tears that had suddenly begun to burn behind your lashes. “Mika can come out with whoever he wants.”

“Not when he was the one who invited you,” Chris countered, tone a little firmer this time but you knew him well enough by now to know that his annoyance wasn’t directed towards you. “What the hell is he playing at? Making such a big deal about you coming out with us tonight and then turning up with her.”

“It’s not a big deal, Chris. Can we just… can we just drop it? Please?”

Chris narrowed his eyes at you slightly, knowing you well enough to know that even you didn’t really believe the words that came out of your mouth but he was cognizant enough to know not to push and so he lifted his hands up in front of him, a wordless acceptance of what you were asking, before reluctantly going back to his Guinness.

You, on the other hand and despite yourself, couldn’t tear your eyes away from how the girl Mika had brought was draping herself all over him and how Mika seemed to like it. You weren’t entirely sure just how long you’d been staring and you were certain that the others would have started to notice how your eyes hadn’t moved at all since Mika had walked through that door; but even though it felt like someone was twisting a knife further into your gut with every second that passed, you couldn’t bring yourself to look anywhere else.

It shouldn’t have surprised you really, that Mika wasn’t interested, that he didn’t see you in that way because when you looked at the woman with her arms draped around his neck and with her legs that seemed to go on for days, you realised that you were nothing alike and if that was his type then it was no wonder that he didn’t see you as anything more than his friend. You’d known Mika for the best part of four years now and while you were sure that there was more to the way he’d touch you and there was more to the softness in his eyes whenever he looked at you, you realised then that those touches and looks weren’t anything special, even if they felt that way to you.

It was the sight of his lips ghosting the shell of her ear that had you setting your glass down onto the table forcefully and reaching for your coat. He hadn’t even made it to the table yet but you knew that there was no way you were making it through the night without losing it and there was no sense in making things awkward for everybody else too. Better to leave now and lick your wounds in the privacy and solace of your apartment than be the subject of the quiet sympathetic looks you were sure would be sent your way.

“Wait, are you going?” Chris asked, the concern evident in his voice. “You just got here.”

“Headache,” you replied, your voice rough in your attempt to keep a lid on the emotions bubbling up from your chest to your throat.

“I’ll walk you home-”

“I’d really rather you didn’t,” you snapped, immediately regretting the hostility with which you replied upon seeing a momentary hurt flash across Chris’s face. “I mean, I’m okay, thanks. I-I can get home myself. Thanks for the offer though.”

You knew that Chris didn’t like that idea and you knew that he was just doing what a good friend should, but if you let him walk you home that would only give him an opportunity to talk about you and Mika and your feelings and you certainly didn’t want that, especially not now. Chris seemed to get the message because he simply nodded, albeit reluctantly. You picked up your purse and slipped out of the bar into the cool New York night without another word spoken to anyone.

Being as oblivious and wrapped up as he was, Mika hadn’t noticed you leave and so the confusion in his expression was evident when he approached the table and his eyes didn’t immediately find yours like they usually would. He went to speak but Chris cut him off curtly, eyes burning and jaw set.

“She went home.”

“Why?”

Chris gave Mika a pointed look and glanced quickly at the woman hanging from his arm before his stony stare found Mika’s eyes once more. “Headache,” he replied with a sharpness that Mika didn’t miss but took a couple of beats to catch up to everything that Chris wasn’t exactly saying.

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Chris replied from behind his glass. “Maybe you should go check up on her? Make sure she’s okay.”

“Yeah,” Mika said quietly. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Within five minutes Mika had given his apologies to Sarah, or Jess, or whatever her name was and was sprinting through the streets of Manhattan towards your apartment. It’s funny how things only become clear when they suddenly start to slip through your fingers and Mika knew that this was one of those moments. He cursed himself for not seeing it sooner, for not seeing that you were right there in front of him, waiting on him to catch up and finally acknowledge just what sat between the two of you. It was the way his skin sparked whenever he touched you, it was the way his heart fluttered whenever you smiled or laughed, it was the way you understood just how crazy his life was and it was the way you understood the pressures he felt and the weight and expectation he carried on his shoulders. It was all of those things and more and Mika knew that if he really allowed himself to think about it, those were things that had been there since day one. He could only hope that he hadn’t thrown it all away in his complete ignorance.

He’d climbed the stairs to your apartment a hundred times before but the three flights had never felt as towering as they did right now. Perhaps it was the fact that he’d run the ten or so blocks to your place or perhaps it was the overwhelming fear that he’d thrown away the best thing he could’ve had, but either way Mika was sure that his heart was about to burst right out of his chest as he knocked urgently at your door.

His stomach dropped through the floor at the sight of your tear streaked face as you opened the door to him and he was ready to list every single reason why he was an idiot and tell you just how sorry he was but he was cut off and knocked back by the rawness in your voice.

“What’re you doing here?”

“I need to talk to you,” Mika rushed out, hoping beyond hope that you’d hear him out and not slam the door in his face.

“There’s nothing to say, Mika,” you replied in the best strong voice you could muster, not wanting to fall apart in front of him.

“Please-”

“I’m sure your girlfriend is missing you.” Your expression is stony as you look at him and your arms are folded tightly across your chest and nothing at all like the frantic look in Mika’s eye and the way he’s tearing his hands through his hair.

“She’s not my-”

“You know what, Mika?” you interrupt, deciding that you’re not in the mood to listen to whatever excuse was going to come out of his mouth. “You don’t owe me anything. You can go out with whoever the hell you want, but don’t bring me into it. Maybe it was my own fault for thinking that there might have been something more between us and that you wanted to be more than friends and I’m sorry about that but I can’t pretend, Mika. I can’t pretend that I don’t feel what I feel, okay? I’m miserable when you’re not around. I think about you more than I should. Fuck, I thought we were on the same page, I thought that maybe there was something different in the way that you looked at me and the way that you talked to me but I guess I was wr-”

The words coming out of your mouth died in the air as Mika’s hands cupped your face and his lips crashed into your own.

“Stop talking,” he breathed between kisses as his body pressed against yours and guided you back into your apartment, his foot kicking the door shut behind him as you went. “Just stop talking for one second.”

You knew that you needed to pull away, knew that you needed to stop this and for you both to use your words to work through this, but your heart betrayed your brain and your hands found themselves winding their way into his hair while you kissed him back with everything you had.

#my writing #mika zibanejad #mika zibanejad blurb #nhl blurb #nhl writing #hockey writing #hockey blurb #nhl fanfiction #hockey fanfiction

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iclaimedtobethebetterbard · 4 years ago

Text

confiding over cuddles

Fandom: Sanders Sides Characters: Logan, Virgil, background Roman & Remus. Rating: Teen & up Relationships: Analogical, both pre-relationship and during the relationship. Warnings: Language. First scene has mentions of being outed, religious homophobia, the implication of the f-slur having been used (the actual word is never on the page), and could maybe come across as critical of Christianity although I intend it more as critical of the homophobia. All of this is kept vague and not gone into in great detail. In the second scene, there are a couple of lines that are implied to be suggestive, but no other warnings. Word count: 4657

Read on AO3!

My writing masterpost

Starlight Universe masterpost

analogical week 2021 start - previous - here - next - masterpost

Summary: Throughout the years, vulnerability has always been easiest for Virgil and Logan while cuddling.

Notes: Day 3 of Analogical Week 2021! @analogicalweek Yes, I’m posting it a day late, but I technically finished it before midnight last night, lol. Takes place in my Starlight Universe, does not need context to read. Remus uses he/they pronouns in this universe.

part 1 - nightmares “Virgil?” Logan said quietly, looking up from the textbook he’d spread open on the floor of Virgil’s dorm room.

Virgil flinched, startled in spite of the soft tone and not too eager for conversation. “What?” he mumbled, dragging his headphones off one ear. He wasn’t actually listening to anything—he’d put them on to avoid conversation—but apparently now they were having a conversation anyway.

“I’m sorry if I am overstepping, but you don’t seem like you’re doing okay.” Logan looked up at him with wide, earnest dark brown eyes. “If there is anything I can do to help, I would really like to.”

Virgil heaved a sigh, considering his options. He hadn’t had time to cancel their normal study session, and when Logan had picked up on his distress at the beginning of the visit, Virgil had insisted it was fine and Logan didn’t have to leave. Logan had taken him at his word and settled in, sprawling on Virgil’s floor while Virgil curled up on his bed and hugged his pillow, avoiding homework and everything else too, to wallow about—well. The reason he would have canceled if he’d had five minutes’ more notice.

On the one hand, it was kind of personal, and Logan was a good enough friend (not a crush, not a crush, not a crush—) that he’d certainly be understanding if Virgil said he didn’t want to talk about it.

On the other hand, Logan had offered to help, and the opportunity to seek comfort from a pretty, thoughtful boy with nice hair and eyes and lips and hands and—but this wasn’t a crush, so none of that mattered, obviously—well, regardless, it was a tempting opportunity.

“Can I talk about it?” Virgil asked in a voice that came out smaller and more vulnerable than he intended.

Logan nodded at once, closing his textbook and climbing to his knees. “Is it okay if I come up there?”

Virgil nodded, patted the space on the bed beside himself, and scooted over to make room. Logan joined him, clambering onto the bed and laying down beside him with a good few inches of space between them, propping his chin up on his elbows. “What’s up?” he asked, focusing all his attention on Virgil.

This close proximity had the unintended side effect of shorting out Virgil’s brain for a solid three seconds. “Uh.” He tore his eyes away from Logan’s face. “I… so I have this friend, right? He used to be my best friend. When we were kids. I haven’t really talked to him at all in a few years.”

Logan nodded.

“So, uh.” Virgil hesitated, fidgeting with his phone. “I guess somebody outed me to him. And he wasn’t okay about it.”

Logan sucked in a concerned hiss of air, half-reaching for Virgil’s shoulder and stopping himself partway through the motion. “Are you okay?”

Virgil nodded on instinct, thought about it, and then shook his head. “He texted me out of the blue about it and offered to pray for me.” His voice shook. “And I—I told him no thanks, I like being gay.” He swiped aimlessly back and forth on his homescreen, opening a folder of apps and then closing it, just so he had something else to focus on than the words he was saying. “He got mad. Called me a—a, a… you know.”

“Oh my god,” Logan murmured in a hushed, horrified tone, and this time he did put his hand on Virgil’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “I’m so sorry, Virgil.”

Virgil let out a little hiccup of a laugh that held no humor but was a way to avoid bursting into tears. He drew the back of his hand across his eyes. “I blocked his number right before you got here,” he mumbled.

Logan nodded. “Good.”

“But he’s been messaging me on Instagram this whole time,” Virgil added with a grimace. “I haven’t been opening them, but…” Right on cue, a notification banner popped up across the top of his screen, previewing a message that contained more of the same stuff he’d been seeing flash across his screen for the last half hour.

“Block him there too,” Logan said instantly. “He doesn’t deserve your time.”

Virgil brushed at the corners of his eyes, swiping away the tears that were threatening to accumulate. “I—I don’t want to open it,” he admitted, voice cracking. “If I open the app, I know I’m going to read all of the messages, and I don’t want to.”

Logan was already shaking his head. “No, don’t read them, oh my god—please don’t read them, please don’t hurt yourself like that.”

“I don’t want to,” Virgil repeated, burying his face in the bedcovers for just a second to hide the tears he couldn’t quite hold back.

Logan’s hand cautiously crept from his shoulder to his back, where it began rubbing soothing circles between his shoulderblades. “Is there any way I can help?” he asked after a moment, his voice almost calm enough to hide his own distress. “I could block him for you, if you want. That way you wouldn’t have to handle the app at all.”

Virgil considered this. He didn’t like the idea of others going through his phone, ever, full stop. But he really didn’t like the idea of opening the Instagram app himself and seeing the little red notification in the corner and inevitably clicking it against all his common sense and scrolling through the messages, reading them over and over again, and maybe trying to reason with the guy about Virgil’s own humanity, even though all that would do was invite a dozen more paragraphs of hurt to read and internalize and argue about, and it would only turn into a vicious cycle of never-ending emotional damage. Not ideal.

And he trusted Logan. He still didn’t like the idea of handing Logan his unlocked phone, but it was a lot less bad than the idea of pretty much anyone else having that access, and it was probably way less bad than trying to do it himself and just hoping he’d somehow have the willpower to leave well enough alone when he knew he didn’t trust himself to do that.

“Can I watch you do it?” he asked, turning his head to the side so he could make suddenly-tired eye contact.

“Of course,” Logan said gently. “Whatever makes you feel most comfortable.”

Virgil worried at his bottom lip with his teeth for a moment, then unlocked the phone with a quick hard press of his thumb and passed it to Logan, wincing slightly.

“Instagram?” Logan asked, finger hovering over the app and waiting for Virgil’s confirmation.

“Yeah,” Virgil said.

Logan opened the app and, waiting at each step for Virgil’s next instruction, blocked the guy without opening any of the messages sitting in Virgil’s DMs. “Does he have any other accounts?”

“I don’t think so,” Virgil mumbled.

“I’m glad. Are there any other methods he has of contacting you that you’d like to block him on?” Logan offered the phone back.

Virgil accepted it gratefully, his shoulders untensing a little. “I guess Snapchat.” He looked up the account and blocked it. “I deleted my Facebook ages ago.” He drummed his fingers on his lips, thinking. “I don’t have a ton of social media, I think that’s everything.”

Logan nodded, visibly relaxing. “Do you need anything? Any kind of support, or anything?”

“I dunno,” Virgil mumbled. He rolled over onto his back. “It just… it sucks.”

“It really does,” Logan agreed.

Virgil forced out a dry chuckle. “Guess I didn’t need that many friends, anyway,” he said, trying hard to make the situation into something amusing. It didn’t particularly work. “It’s not like most people like me, what’s one less?”

“I like you!” Logan protested, his voice much louder than it had been for the last ten minutes. He froze, looking anywhere but Virgil’s face. “I, I like you a lot. You’re a very good friend,” he added, fidgeting with the cuff of his sleeve, his expression flustered.

Virgil set that aside to overthink for ages later. “Uh. Thanks. You—you too,” he managed.

They were both very quiet for a moment, Logan’s fidgeting only increasing as Virgil chewed anxiously on the inside of his cheek.

“Is there anything you need right now?” Logan asked again, just as the tension between them began to become uncomfortable.

Virgil let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “I don’t know… are you busy?”

“Not until my next class, which is at noon tomorrow,” Logan assured him.

“I don’t want to be a bother—”

“I enjoy spending time with you, and you are clearly distressed and I’d like to help if I can,” Logan interrupted, “and you are my friend and I care about you very much, and it is not bothering me to ask whatever you want. If I want to say no, I will.”

Well. He had covered all his bases when it came to anticipating Virgil’s hesitations.

“Would you mind staying for a bit?” Virgil blurted. “To help me keep my mind off it? I—I don’t want to be alone. I think too much.”

Logan’s expression softened into something so tender it almost hurt to look at. “Of course,” he agreed easily. “As long as you like.”

“Thank you,” Virgil whispered.

“Anytime.” Logan fidgeted with his sleeve a bit more, not looking at Virgil. “Um. Would you like to cuddle?” he asked hesitantly after a minute.

Virgil wasn’t sure he’d heard that right. “What?”

“There are several physiological and neurological benefits to—” Logan began, determinedly not looking at Virgil’s face.

“No, I believe you,” Virgil interrupted, and in a surge of daring, added: “Sure.”

Logan blinked, his lips parting slightly in surprise. “Oh! Alright.” He shifted closer, carefully closing the gap between them like he was afraid of doing it wrong, and arranged himself against Virgil’s side with his head on Virgil’s shoulder and his arm draped across Virgil’s chest.

Virgil’s own arm curled around Logan easily, like it was meant to go there. Virgil ignored (mostly) his rapid heartbeat and how soft Logan’s hair was where it brushed against his cheek.

“Do you want to know something totally stupid?” Logan asked.

“Sure,” Virgil said, wondering where this was going.

“I’m scared of the space under my bed.” Logan half chuckled.

Virgil blinked. That had been kind of out of the blue. “What?”

“I’ve tried to rationalize it away. I know it doesn’t make sense.” Logan sounded half amused, like maybe he was trying to cover up some mild embarrassment with humor. “But ever since I was a little kid, it’s scared me. It was worse when I was little, I would have nightmares about it and everything. But it still makes me kind of nervous to just have empty space there. I like to fill it up.”

“That’s fair,” Virgil said. He understood irrational fears. “How come you’re telling me, though? Like, not in a judgemental way,” he added quickly, feeling Logan’s shoulders tense just slightly. “Just wondering where that came from.”

“Ah.” Logan relaxed again. “I am attempting vulnerability. You just shared what seemed like a pretty personal moment with me, and I know that can feel uncomfortable. I am trying to level the playing field a little.”

Virgil couldn’t help but smile. “That’s really sweet, Lo,” he said.

“I am just trying to be a good friend.” Logan shrugged one shoulder, but Virgil could hear the happy note in his voice.

“I was scared of going places by myself when I was little,” Virgil said. “Actually, that came from a nightmare, too.” He laughed a little.

“No, hey!” Logan protested. “Now it’s uneven again!”

“I don’t think that’s how vulnerability works,” Virgil told him, only teasing a little bit. “Friendship isn’t math, it doesn’t have to match on both sides. Besides, I got over that one, mostly. It’s all good.”

Logan nodded slowly in acceptance, rubbing his thumb back and forth across Virgil’s shoulder. “Alright.” He half sat up, but only took his glasses off and reached to put them on the sidetable, then lay back down, cuddling up even more cozily against Virgil once again, making a small noise of content.

“What have you been up to lately?” Virgil asked, his voice hardly above a whisper, because he needed there to be some kind of conversation. Not just to distract himself from the unpleasant stuff of earlier, although that was still a part of it, but also so that he could avoid examining the current situation too hard. Because Logan was just a friend, just a friend, and Virgil couldn’t afford to risk ruining a friendship as wonderful as this one with a big gay crush on his friend.

“Getting used to my new board position in the astronomy club,” Logan said. “And a lot of reading for my classes.”

“You’re the Vice President this year, right?” Virgil asked. Almost without thinking about it, he raised his hand to stroke Logan’s hair, which was just as soft against his fingertips as it had felt against his cheek.

Logan let out a soft sigh of content at the touch, nestling his head a little more snugly against Virgil’s shoulder, and coincidentally fucking melting Virgil’s heart into a puddle of goo. This whole not-a-crush thing was getting to be a serious problem.

“Yes, I’m the Vice President,” Logan confirmed. “I was the secretary last year, so I kind of know the ropes, but I have very different responsibilities this time. So that’s been interesting.”

“Tell me about it,” Virgil invited.

Logan did tell him about it, and then he asked Virgil what he’d been up to, and Virgil got to talk about a research project he was helping one of his favorite professors out with, and that led to telling each other stories about their favorite professors and classes (and some of the bad ones, too), and that led to stories about their friends, and Logan was looking up at Virgil with a soft gaze that Virgil could have stared into forever, and he really didn’t know what was up with Logan of all people’s sudden desire to cuddle, but he wasn’t asking questions because this was kind of the best thing that had happened in forever.

When, much later, the conversation slowly died down and Logan’s voice trailed off into a sleepy noise that he stifled against Virgil’s shoulder, scrunching his whole face up into a yawn, Virgil only tugged at the piled-up blanket he was leaning against until it half-covered the pair of them. Maybe the more responsible thing to do would have been to rouse Logan so he could go home to his apartment, but when Logan shifted closer to him and held him a little tighter, his eyes drifting shut, Virgil couldn’t find it in himself to regret it.

And he’d meant for it to only be a brief nap, really he had. He hadn’t planned to drift off himself as well. He could’ve sworn he only closed his eyes for a second or two—but when he opened them, sunlight was streaming through the window, and Logan was still there, still in Virgil’s arms cuddled close against his chest. Logan was wide awake now, but he seemed perfectly content to just lie there and examine Virgil’s face, a funny look in his eyes and a tiny smile on his lips.

“Hi,” Virgil said blearily, blinking at him. Then he processed where they were and what had happened. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I should have woken you up,” he began, half sitting up, his voice coming out a sleepy mumble that probably wasn’t anywhere near intelligible.

“No, it’s fine,” Logan assured him, gently pushing him back down. “I don’t mind.”

Virgil was half of a mind to keep apologizing, but it was very warm and he was still barely awake and Logan was so soft and nice, so all in all it was much easier to just lie there and accept the cuddles.

“Are you doing better?” Logan asked quietly.

It took Virgil a minute to fully remember the events of yesterday and figure out what he was referencing. “Oh. Uh, I guess. Like, it still sucks, but I’m going to be okay, you know? And this is nice, anyway.”

Logan nodded, resting his head on Virgil’s chest as if to listen to his heartbeat. “Yes. This is very nice.”

[4 years later]

part 2 - dreams “Come to bed,” Logan said. “You have been scrolling through Tumblr for the past twenty-seven minutes, you can do that just as well while snuggling me.”

“I’ve been attacked,” Virgil said lightly, shutting off his laptop and turning around to face his boyfriend. Logan was sitting in bed in his pajamas, leaning back against the headboard of their bed, a book in his hands and the covers pulled up over his lap. Virgil smiled. “Let me go brush my teeth and then I’ll come cuddle you, babe.”

“Acceptable,” Logan agreed with an answering smile, his eyes flicking up briefly from the pages to meet Virgil’s own.

Virgil brushed his teeth in the little bathroom of the apartment Logan had shared with the twins in the two years since they’d all graduated college. Before reemerging, Virgil changed into the old t-shirt and flannel pajama pants he’d brought with him—he usually stayed overnight on the weekends these days, and this one was no exception.

Roman, sitting at the kitchen table poring over a wad of papers that were probably a script from the local community theatre’s latest production, waved at Virgil as he exited the bathroom. “G’night, Virge,” he called.

“Night, Ro,” Virgil responded, and for good measure, he added, “night, Remus.”

Remus, somewhere out of sight, cackled. “Have fun getting—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Virgil interrupted automatically, without any real bite, making his way back into Logan’s room and shutting the door behind himself.

Logan smiled at the sight of him, pulling back the covers invitingly. Virgil snagged his phone off of Logan’s desk on his way over, climbing into the bed and curling up with his head in Logan’s lap.

Logan let out a small, pleased sigh, resting his hand on Virgil’s shoulder.

“Happy?” Virgil asked, reaching up to touch Logan’s face.

Logan nodded. “Very.”

Virgil chuckled and half sat up so he could reach to kiss Logan, then settled himself back where he’d been and unlocked his phone, scrolling through Tumblr without paying too much attention. Logan’s hand came to rest lightly on the back of his head, and after a moment began stroking his hair.

He turned a page, then after a minute closed the book and set it down.

Virgil looked up. His boyfriend was gazing down at him, face scrunched up just slightly the way it always did when he was thinking hard about something.

“You good?” Virgil asked.

Logan started slightly. “Oh! Yes.” His hand, which had drifted to a stop at the base of Virgil’s skull, resumed gently stroking Virgil’s hair.

“Whatcha thinking about?” Virgil asked.

Logan was quiet for a beat, then met Virgil’s eyes. “Would you like to get married?”

Virgil choked on air. “What?”

“Married,” Logan repeated, a little shy this time. “You and I. Would you be interested in doing that?”

“I—” Virgil found himself at a loss for words. “I don’t know? Maybe?” He sat up, shutting off his phone and setting it on the sidetable. “I’m sorry—are you proposing to me in our pajamas?”

“No,” Logan said emphatically, frowning. “This is not a proposal. This is so we can talk about it ahead of time, so that if you do want it, then you won’t need to be anxious when I do propose.”

Virgil blinked, processing that. “Wow.” He reached over and brushed his thumb lightly across Logan’s cheek. “I love you so much, you know that?”

Logan’s brow smoothed out and his shoulders visibly untensed. “I love you too.” He put his hand over Virgil’s where it rested on his cheek, cradling it tenderly. He closed his eyes. “And you don’t need to have an answer right now. We can have this conversation whenever you like. I just… wanted to bring it up. Because I would like that, if you are also amicable.” He turned his head slightly and pressed a kiss to the palm of Virgil’s hand.

Virgil hooked a finger in the collar of Logan’s pajama shirt and drew him close for a soft kiss. “Come lay down and cuddle me properly, nerd.”

Logan obediently set his book down on the sidetable beside Virgil’s phone, pulled off his glasses, and set those down too. With some shuffling of limbs, the two of them lay down, Virgil curled up in Logan’s arms. To anyone else, Logan would have seemed perfectly relaxed, content to lay there and press the occasional kiss to Virgil’s forehead; but Virgil could sense the slight tension in Logan’s face. He was nervous, even if he was trying hard not to show it.

Virgil’s own thoughts were whirling. Did he want to get married? He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it. But they were both still so young. Marriage was so big. Even if they’d been dating for more than four years at this point, that was barely more than a blip in the really long run. And what if they found out too late that they disagreed on something important? What if Logan wanted to take out a huge mortgage, or move across the country, or have kids? (Okay, they’d talked about kids, and both felt super hesitant, not-yet-ready at best, about the whole idea. But what if Logan changed his mind?)

(But also… waking up to Logan’s face every morning. Waking up to coffee with Logan and sleepy yawns. Casual touches on the elbow or shoulder or wrist or waist or cheek throughout the day, little reminders of love that were almost thoughtless in their routine. A home that would be just theirs. They could get a pet, if they wanted. They could paint stars on the ceiling or walls. They could cook dinner together every night. They could stay up late watching old TV shows and making snarky commentary back and forth. They could be each other’s home.)

Logan was watching Virgil’s face intently, even as he did his best to play it cool. Virgil met his eyes. “So,” he began, struggling to find the right words for what he wanted to convey. “I—I don’t know what I want. Or. I guess I kind of do. But I’m nervous.”

“We don’t have to,” Logan said quickly. “I mean. Obviously. But I don’t want you to—to feel pressured, or anything, to say anything one way or the other or to have to even say anything at all or—”

“Hey,” Virgil interrupted soothingly as Logan’s voice sped into anxious overdrive. “Hey, it’s okay.”

Logan sucked in a breath. He nodded. “I—sorry.”

Virgil shook his head and leaned across the few inches between them to kiss Logan. “Babe, I just told you I’m nervous. It’s fine if you are too.”

“I’m not nervous—” Logan began. He cut himself off at the wry look Virgil gave him. “I—okay, fine. But it’s not a big deal.”

“Hmm, disagree.”

“But the whole point was so I could support you if you felt—”

“L. Babe. Light of my life. You get nervous when you’re vulnerable. I get it.”

Logan bit his lip and reached for Virgil’s hand. He held it tightly.

Virgil squeezed back and snuggled closer under the covers. “Anyway, uh.” He paused for a second to make sure he knew how he wanted to say it. “I—I still don’t know exactly what I want to say about that idea. But I know the answer is definitely not a no.”

Logan breathed in, not quite sharply enough to be a gasp. “Oh,” he breathed, letting go of Virgil’s hand so he could caress his face.

“Does that make sense?” Virgil asked. “Like, I don’t yet know how or when I want it. But I—I think I want to, eventually, and I really want it to be you.”

“Yeah,” Logan said, his voice coming out a little choked. “Yeah, that—that’s good.”

Virgil half smiled. “Kiss?” he asked.

Logan was reaching for him before he even finished the word, pulling him close and clinging to him as he kissed the breath from Virgil’s lungs like he never wanted to let go. Virgil wrapped his own arm around Logan, holding him just as tightly, and cupped Logan’s face with the hand that was trapped between the two of them.

“I love you,” Virgil whispered as they pulled apart, and now he was choking up a little too.

Logan pressed their foreheads together. “I love you so much.”

They were both quiet for a moment, holding each other close.

“I think it’d be nice to get one of those really fancy coffee machines,” Virgil whispered after a minute. “Someday. For our someday kitchen.” He enjoyed Logan’s sudden intake of breath and the way his eyes widened slightly at the word our. “The kind that can make espresso, and shit,” Virgil went on. “We could try out all different kinds of things. And I wouldn’t tell anybody how much sugar you always put in your coffee.”

“I put a normal amount of sugar in my coffee,” Logan protested, a smile quirking onto his face.

“L, I love you, but that is maybe the least true thing you have ever said in your life.” Virgil snickered.

“Shut up,” Logan whined, pushing lightly at Virgil’s shoulder with an answering grin.

Virgil leaned in and kissed his cheek. “It’s cute.” He hesitated for a beat. “What would you want? In your dream future?”

“You,” Logan responded immediately.

Virgil pressed a hand to his mouth. He absolutely should have seen that one coming, but he hadn’t, and the surprise made the pang of fondness in his chest all the sweeter. “Logan,” he managed after a minute.

Logan only grinned, looking very pleased with himself. “A coffee machine does sound very nice, too, though,” he added. “And space for you to keep an instrument.”

“Oh,” Virgil breathed, lighting up at the idea. “Yeah, that sounds really good. I’d want a library for all your stupid nerdy books.”

Logan put a hand on Virgil’s cheek. “I’d want a kitchen table that we both picked out together.”

Virgil grinned. “A couch to hold you on.”

“A wall full of art that we both like.”

“Windows so there’s light everywhere and you can see the stars at night.”

“A pantry full of our favorite foods.”

“A bed to—”

“Virgil!”

“Whaaat?”

“We were being cute!” Logan smacked his arm lightly. “Remus is a bad influence on you,” he accused, though Virgil could see he was trying not to laugh.

“I mean, probably,” Virgil allowed, grinning. “But maybe I was just going to say a bed to sleep in. And cuddle in. And perfectly innocent things like that. Maybe you’re the one Remus is a bad influence on.”

“I—” Logan struggled for a second, then broke down into snickers.

Virgil grinned, wrapping his arms around Logan’s waist and enjoying the sound of his laughter.

“Were you going to say something like that, though?” Logan asked, composing himself.

“Oh, no, absolutely not.” Virgil snickered. “You were right, I was going to ruin the cutesy vibe we had going on there, one hundred percent. But you’re really cute when you laugh, so no regrets.”

“Hmm,” Logan hummed, leaning closer. “You know when else I’m really cute?”

“When?” Virgil breathed.

“When I’m kissing you,” Logan murmured, and closed the gap between their lips.

Virgil kissed back, eyes fluttering shut and hands sliding a little more securely around Logan’s waist. In his opinion, Logan made a very compelling point.

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littledrummeraussie · 4 years ago

Text

summer nights.

Word count: 4000+

Warnings: casual drinking. tipsy flirting. first time having sex with each other. handjob. fingering. slight nipple kink. sex with protection. mentiones of possible future encounters. consent. because consent is sexy.

Author’s note: when Alice @babylonashton posted this freakin’ photoset of Ashton in that black tank top - I basically lost it and told my friend how I wanna feel his soft warm skin against mine. Cue to me writing a sweet summer fic where reader is lucky enough to feel that soft warm skin up close.

A big shoutout to @mymindwide for letting me use her again as my emotional punching bag. Love you more than you know.

Feedback is appreciated!

masterlist.

- - - - -

Luke has been bugging you for weeks about a game night/long weekend getaway vacation he has planned with his friends, saying that he thought you might have fun and it would finally give you the chance to meet his oh so famous band members. When you still weren’t sure about your answer he asked his girlfriend too, who practically begged you to join them for those few days, saying how they needed the girl power if they wanted to slay the boys in all the games they have planned. In the end you needed to agree, not being able to say no to both their puppy dog eyes and pouty lips.

You needed to give it to them that all their friends were amazing, and you did feel like one of the group from the moment you’ve stepped out of their car. They quickly started setting up a grill and the games they have brought with themselves, everyone settling into their rooms and the new environment for the next 4 days. Luke took some time to introduce you to his band members, and the ice was broken in seconds, all three of them acting like you’ve known each other for a long time now.

By the third night it didn’t surprise you anymore if Michael started eating from your plate, if Calum shared his beer with you while putting Duke in your lap for ear scratches, or if Ashton started snapping photos of the two of you while you pattered around the kitchen. Luke seemed absolutely happy with how everything turned out, and you thanked him and his girlfriend countless times for making you come with them.

To mix things up a little they’ve decided to put everyone’s name into a cup, pulling out two pieces of papers to make teams for an upcoming beer-pong challenge. Ashton gave you a pointed look when they’ve announced you as a team, saying how you are winning this thing, even if you end up drunk as a skunk. After your first failed attempt he stepped behind you, holding onto your wrist to help you aim the ball, which quickly landed in one of the cups, making Calum grimace as he drank his beer.

* * *

”No, no, don’t do it! Don’t! Doooon’t!” Michael yelled as Ashton aimed the ball again, throwing it into the last of the cups, sticking his tongue out at his friend. ”Dammit mate!”

”We won!” Ashton announced it with a laugh, quickly wrapping his arms around you as he picked you up. ”Drink up, Clifford!”

”Ash, no, don’t drop me!” you squealed as he was spinning you around, holding onto his shoulders as he finally put you down, his cheeks pink and a smile pulling at his lips.

”We make such a good team,” he gave you a high five before pulling you in for another hug.

And that was a moment. It felt like electricity ran through the both of you as he wrapped his strong arms around you, his skin warm and soft where it touched you. You wanted to pull away. You wanted to stay in his arms forever. His grip on you got stronger for a second, then he was letting you go, but his eyes were shining, lips parted as he quickly licked them, and you were sure he was trying to catch his breath the same way that you did.

”Are you done celebrating or can we finally have dinner?” Calum asked from his place by the fire, and you gave him a nod, pulling away from Ashton.

”We don’t want you to starve, Cal,” Ash huffed at him, rolling his eyes in a comical way. ”Could have started without us.”

”You would have stuck with the remaining salad, mate,” Luke laughed at him, and with that motioned for you two to join them.

* * *

The night went on with lots of talking, all of you feeling a little buzzed after your game of beer-pong and the drinks you had during dinner. Ashton sat on the other side of the fire, explaining something to his friends about this or that, but his eyes found you whenever there was a lull in the conversation, returning the smiles you’ve sent his way. It was about an hour later that he went inside the house, coming back with a blanket that he wrapped around your shoulders, sitting down and putting his arm around you to pull you to his side.

”Thanks,” you felt a blush colouring your cheeks as he made himself comfortable. ”Do you need the other half?”

”I’m fine, thank you,” he smiled at you, rubbing your arm. ”I’m never really cold, so this is nice for me.”

”Yeah, I’ve felt that,” you whispered, almost like an afterthought, gaze lingering on his arms and the black tank top pulling tightly over his chest.

”This way you don’t have to be cold either,” he gave you a wink, squeezing you to his side once again, and you let your head rest on his shoulder as you joined the conversation again.

* * *

The next thing you remembered was a chuckle against your ear and Ashton slightly shifting next to you, his hand still lightly rubbing your arm. Even in your half-asleep state you picked up on the quiet that surrounded you, the voices low and masculine around you, and you were sure the girls have already gone to bed, leaving the guys to have some time to themselves. You must have fallen asleep leaning against Ashton’s shoulder, and he was nice enough not to wake you while you napped and enjoyed the warmth radiating from his body.

”She’s out like a light,” you heard Calum say it from somewhere around the other side, a smile playing in his voice. ”You were upgraded to a pillow, mate.”

”Shh, don’t wake her,” Luke shushed Calum, and you felt Ashton trying to stifle his laugh, the sound vibrating against your cheek.

”Can’t blame her, though. We all know Ashton is a great pillow,” Michael made a comment too, and the others hummed in agreement.

”Guess this is my cue,” you felt Ashton turning towards you, his arms gently sliding around your back and under your knees, pulling you into his lap before standing up. ”I’ll take Y/N up to bed, then I’ll probably turn in too. Don’t stay up late.”

”Good night, Grandpa,” Calum snorted, and Ashton mumbled something colourful in response, making his way towards the house.

* * *

”You’re still nice and warm,” you hummed against Ashton’s neck as he took the last few steps to arrive to the first floor where all your bedrooms were.

”What, you’re not scared anymore that I’m gonna drop you?” he chuckled, tightening his arms around you as he turned the corner, looking for your room.

”You just want me to compliment you on how strong you are,” you giggled lightly, and he laughed against your hair, opening the door with his shoulder.

”Aren’t you just lucky to have your own personal walking-talking furnace pillow?” he put you down on the bed, hands sliding down to your feet. ”Alright, shoes.”

”I could just kick those off, you know,” you buried your face against the pillow, eyes barely open as you looked at Ashton fumbling with the laces on your shoes.

”It’s no trouble at all,” he smiled at you quickly, thumb brushing over your ankle before he tugged off the other one too. ”Guess you’re all set, love.”

”Thank you,” you mumbled, and Ash just nodded, fixing the blanket around your feet.

”I’ll see you in the morning,” he hesitated for a moment then stood up, stepping to the door. ”Good night, Y/N.”

”Good night… Ashton?”

”Yeah?” he turned back, leaning against the doorframe.

”Would you mind staying?” you bit your lip as you let the question hang between the two of you. ”I’m– still a little cold…”

”The blanket’s not enough?” a grin pulled at his lips as he closed the door behind himself.

”Definitely not as warm as you,” you confessed, lifting the sheets up as an invitation. ”What do you say?”

Ashton shook his head with a smile, already kicking off his shoes before climbing onto the bed and over you, his strong arms bracketing you as he leaned forward. He rested his forehead against yours, the tip of his nose tickling your skin as you relaxed against the pillow, arms slowly wrapping around his shoulders to keep him close. Ash sighed happily as you ran your fingers up his neck, stroking through his hair at the nape, and he gently pressed his lips against the corner of your mouth.

”Wanted to kiss you since the moment you’ve made me pancakes at one in the morning,” he lazily kissed your chin, running his lips down your throat and up to your ear, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes.

”What’s holding you back now?” you tilted your head up to lightly brush your lips against his bottom one and he hummed in response, leaning closer.

”I guess I don’t have a way out now,” he whispered on your lips, dimples appearing on his cheeks as he smiled. ”So I might as well just shut up and kiss you.”

You both chuckled at his words before Ashton cupped your face, pressing his lips against your forehead, the tip of your nose, and after a long look into each other’s eyes he finally kissed your lips. He lightly sucked on your bottom lip, tongue slowly slipping into your mouth as you relaxed into his touch, a quiet moan echoing around the room. Ashton faintly tasted like the ice cream you had a few hours ago, with a hint of the beer he must have drunk while you were sleeping on his shoulder. Your thumb brushed over the shell of his ear, fingers tangling into his dark locks just above it as you pulled him closer, all of your senses wanting more of his scent, his touch and taste. A low groan resonated against your chest where you were pressed together, his elbows and knees pushing into the mattress keeping him up above you.

”Want you closer,” you slid your hands down on his sides, fingers tangling into the hem of his tank top, slowly tugging it upwards to feel his skin against your palms. ”That’s okay?”

”More than okay, love,” Ash groaned, pushing back for another kiss as you worked the fabric up on his back, only letting go of you when you needed to pull it over his head.

Before you knew it he pulled away again, grabbing onto the blanket covering you and tossing it on the floor, just so he can take a good look at you. He was ready to climb back over you, but you were quick to kneel up in front of him, arms wrapped around his neck to kiss him again. Ashton’s arms circled your waist, pulling you to his chest as he tickled your skin, bunching the material of your shirt in his fists before pulling it off. A shiver ran through you as he massaged your back, his touch warm and curious as his fingers slid under the clasp of your bra, giving it the shortest of tugs.

”Still okay?” he rested his forehead against yours, eyes searching your eyes. ”Can I?”

”Please,” you nodded, voice just above a whisper, your own hands sliding down his chest and stomach, fingers tangling into the loops of his jeans.

”You can do that too,” he pressed a kiss on your temple, only working open the clasp when your fingers undid his button and slid the zipper down.

You pushed your head against his shoulder, looking down at his body as your hand slid inside his pants, palm curling around the hot flesh straining against his boxers, and Ashton moaned against your ear, slightly pushing forward to get more friction. His fingers grabbed your chin to tilt your head back up, pressing his lips against yours before pulling the straps of the bra down your arms, pulling back to quickly kick his jeans off, giving you the chance to get rid of your own shorts.

You took a moment to catch your breaths and admire each other’s bodies, his tan skin and tattoos on display to touch and taste, his cock hard and tenting his boxers. His eyes wandered down your neck, fingers following the path over your collarbones and breasts, thumbs rubbing your hard nipples while he kissed into your neck. Ashton’s arms were around you again, helping you lie back on the bed as he hovered above you, nose skimming down your skin as he searched for his prize, lips finally closing around your nipple, gently sucking it into his mouth.

Your fingers aimlessly stroked his hair as his teeth gave a light bite to the hard nub, his tongue massaging it to sooth the sting. He pressed his lips between your breasts, leaving short little pecks on your skin before moving to the other nipple, his mouth already back at work. You felt his thumbs hook into the sides of your panties, the rest of his fingers brushing against your thighs, asking if he can move forward, and you lifted your hips as an answer, making Ashton slip the fabric down your legs.

”You’re still wearing too much,” you laughed into his neck as he pushed himself up to you, hands sliding down his back to lightly squeeze his ass, and Ashton stifled his moan with a giggle.

”Wanna do something about it?” he pressed a quick kiss on your lips, wiggling his eyebrows.

You tugged on the waistband of his boxers, sliding it down on his thighs and Ashton kicked them off, hands gripping your legs as he turned to his side, pulling you with himself. His palm cupped your face, thumb brushing against your cheek as he kissed you long and deep, and you pressed against his chest, curling into his warm embrace. Your fingers skimmed down his arm, then up to brush against his nipple, making Ash hum against your lips and kiss you a little harder. You gave another light tweak to it, and his hips pressed forward, hard cock rubbing against your thigh as he looked for friction.

”How do you like it?” you pressed a kiss on the underside of his jaw as your fingers wrapped around his cock, stroking it up and down.

”That’s perfect,” he breathed against your hair, his noises filled with pleasure. ”You can go faster.”

”Like this?” you picked up the pace, thumb brushing over the tip to spread his precum down on his shaft, and Ashton moaned, a shiver running through him.

”Just like that, yeah.”

His hand wandered down your back, squeezing your ass before lightly caressing your thigh, fingers slowly sliding between your legs, palm cupping your wet sex. You buried your face and moans against his chest as a finger teased between your lips, giving light strokes to your clit before a second one joined, making you shift a little to give him more space.

”You’re absolutely gorgeous,” Ashton nudged his nose against yours, hazel eyes boring into yours as his thumb rubbed your clit, his digits lightly circling your entrance. ”Fingers?”

”Yeah, I like them,” you nodded while pecking his lips, a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth as he slowly pushed in. ”Fuck, and they feel really good.”

”Yeah, I like your hand on my cock too,” he giggled between moans, fingers slipping deeper, curling against the sweet spot inside you.

He slowly slipped his fingers in an out, stretching you as you still jerked his cock, both of you trying to stifle your noises against the other’s mouth. Then Ashton pulled away, pressing his lips against your cheek and squeezing your hips before reaching for his discarded jeans, pulling out a condom from one of his pockets.

”Did you plan on getting lucky?” you pushed your toe against his knee with a smile, and Ashton chuckled, swiping his fingers through his hair.

”It might have crossed my mind,” he confessed, already tearing the package open.

”How long have you been hiding it?” you let your eyes linger on his fingers as he expertly rolled the condom on his hard cock, giving it a few pumps as he sighed.

”On and off since our midnight kitchen date,” he lay back down beside you, pulling you to his side, squeezing your hips again. ”Definitely been hoping for it after tonight. Put them back into my pocket when I brought you that blanket. You– kinda had an effect on me while you slept.”

”Should I say sorry?” you bit your bottom lip as you reached for his cock, giving it a few strokes before guiding it between your legs, swiping the head between your folds.

”I would rather you make up for it,” a smile pulled at Ashton’s lips as his hand covered yours, pushing the tip against your entrance.

”Sounds good enough for me,” you sighed against his neck, grabbing onto his biceps as he slowly moved, sinking his cock into you.

Ashton pulled your hips closer, fully pushing his cock inside as he kissed your forehead, drawing small circles on your back as you adjusted to his size, your pussy already clenching around him, wanting to feel more of the delicious stretch. He cupped your face as he kissed you, only starting to move when you whimpered your pleas against his lips, urging him to finally make love to you. His thrusts were slow and deep, making your toes curl as the tip of his cock dragged against your sweet spot, and you couldn’t help but bite his bottom lip as he started picking up the pace.

Your nails lightly scratched his shoulder blades, leaving small crescent marks on his skin when he moved above you, pulling your legs around his waist to fuck you the way he liked it, burying his face in your neck when a loud moan escaped his lips. You didn’t want the night to end; feeling Ashton’s body against you was the sweetest thing you’ve experienced in a long time, his kisses making you dizzy and craving more and more. Your fingers tangled into his hair, tugging on his dark locks as he rested his forehead against your temple, nose pushed to your cheek, his breath hot and tickling your skin.

”Want you to cum for me,” he kissed the soft spot behind your ear, hips quickly snapping against yours. ”Wanna feel you around my cock. Can you do that, angel?”

”Ash– fuck, a little more, please,” you whimpered, already feeling the pleasure building in your lower belly, tickling your spine, making you needy for it. ”Just… your fingers…”

”I’ve got you, beautiful,” he pressed his lips to yours, teeth giving the lightest of nibbles to them as he slipped his hand between your bodies, stroking your clit in quick circles. ”Good?”

”Yeah, so good,” you choked on a moan as he hit a sensitive spot, making you squeeze your legs around his waist. ”Ash– Ash, please–”

”I’m here, love,” he pulled your face against his neck, his movements never stopping as he whispered in your ear. ”Cum for me, Y/N.”

His words triggered something in you, and you felt an orgasm run through your body, making you shake from head to toe. Ashton’s arms wrapped around you as he fucked you through your pleasure, his lips and teeth leaving gentle love bites on your neck as you clenched around his cock, and you felt him slightly tremble against you, his movements getting more erratic. You squeezed your walls around him, not caring how sensitive you were, and he groaned against your ear, hips stuttering.

”Y/N–” he swallowed around a moan, fingers digging into your ass. ”Fuck, that’s good.”

”I wanna feel you too,” you kissed into his ear, teeth lightly tugging on his earring. ”Gonna give it to me, Ash? Please, I wanna feel you cum too.”

”Wish I could fill you up,” he panted, lost in his own pleasure, and you moaned at his words, squeezing more tightly around him.

”Next time, baby,” you breathed into his ear, fingers caressing the back of his neck. ”Next time you can have me.”

Ashton’s body tensed above you, his moans muffled against your neck as he stilled, hips lazily trusting into you as his cock twitched and pulsed, filling the condom with his cum. He sighed heavily as the last of his pleasure tickled his senses, burrowing against your neck with a happy sound, resting his weight on you, his skin sweaty and warm against you. You brushed kisses against his cheek, fingers drawing patterns between his shoulder blades, and Ash lightly chuckled, pushing himself up to nuzzle his nose to yours.

”Give me a sec, love,” he pecked your lips and you nodded, letting go of him as he pulled out, both of you slightly groaning at the feeling.

He quickly discarded the condom in the trashcan before climbing back next to you, wrapping his arms around you to pull you against his body. He grabbed the blanket at the end of the bed, pulling it up over your shoulders, tucking it around you.

”So you’re okay with having the other half now?” you silently giggled, pulling the blanket a bit more around his back.

”I have your naked body against me now,” he lovingly tapped your nose with his finger, making you scrunch up your face. ”Of course I wanna share.”

”You know… I’m still a little bit cold…” you squeezed your arms around his waist, and Ashton chuckled, playing along as he pulled you closer.

”Where do you need warming up, love?” he brushed a lock of hair behind your ear, smiling as you tapped your own lips.

”Right here.”

Ashton leaned forward and kissed you gently, spending the next few minutes making out with each other, the soft touches and caresses helping both of you to come down from your highs. He slowly turned onto his back, pulling you as close as he could, tangling your legs together under the blankets. He let you rest your head against his chest, listening to his slowing heartbeat as his fingers played with your hair, both of you ready to fall asleep together.

”You do make a great pillow,” you mumbled against his skin, and you felt the now familiar rumble against your cheek as he chuckled, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

”Does this mean you’ll take me home with you?” he slipped his fingers against yours, interlocking them on his stomach, and you lightly squeezed them.

”I could use a body pillow like you at home, yeah. Comfy and warm. Perfect for cuddles.”

”Yeah,” he sighed happily, resting his fingers in your hair. ”I like cuddles too.”

* * *

The sound of the door slowly opening made you aware of the light in the room, and for a moment you were sure Ashton has woken up and left you, but then you felt his warm embrace around you, and you burrowed against his side again, ready to go back to sleep.

”They look cute,” you heard Luke whispering, quickly shushing the two others as they started giggling. ”Don’t, you’re gonna wake them!”

”Must have been a night,” Calum commented, clearly looking at the discarded clothes on the floor.

”Told you Ashton makes a great pillow,” Michael said again. ”And Y/N clearly agrees on that.”

”When you’ve stopped being weirdos… could you leave us alone?” you heard Ashton grumble, moving you both, his back to his friends. ”I don’t need an audience for what is about to happen.”

The door closed as quickly as it has opened, and you stifled your giggles against Ashton’s chest, pressing a kiss into his neck.

”Is that a promise?” you looked up at him, and he gave you a lazy smile, brushing a kiss against your temple.

”How about we have some fun now, and then I’ll make you pancakes?”

- - - - -

taglist.

@mymindwide @loveroflrh @sadistmichael @notinthesameguey @babylonashton @talkfastromance4 @dead-and-golden @karajaynetoday @myloverboyash @blackbutterfliescal @sexgodashton

drop me a message/reply if you wanna be tagged uwu.

#ashton irwin #ashton irwin x reader #ashton irwin fanfiction #ashton irwin smut #fiction time #.might explore the pancake scene too 👀#afic: summer nights

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brain-deadx0 · 4 years ago

Text

Virgil's Betrayal

Part 3 of New Big Brother

Previous Next

Summary: Remy meets Patton’s brother and kids and proceeds to get murdered.

Warnings: Food mention, play fighting including nerf guns, manipulation but for good stuff, let me know

Remy was not nervous.

When dad guy had asked him a few days ago if he would be ok with going to the man’s brother’s house for lunch that weekend, Remy had said, “Sure.” He’d agreed to it.

So no. Remy wasn’t nervous. Even as they pulled up to the frankly huge house in a neighborhood of huge houses.

Definitely not nervous.

Virgil was practically vibrating in his seat. He’d been telling Remy all about his uncle and cousins, and what games they could play together the entire drive.

“Everybody ready?” Dad guy asked as he turned the car off.

“Yep!” Virgil told him as he quickly unbuckled himself.

Dad guy sent one of his questioning looks to Remy via the rear view mirror. Remy ignored it and climbed out of the car to follow Virgil who had already ran for the front door.

Dad guy joined them at the door as Virgil rang the bell. Remy wasn’t trying to hide behind them. They just ended up closer to the door. There was the sound of a lock being turned before someone inside the house hollered for them to come in.

As soon as they walked through the door there was the sound of footsteps running down the stairs.

"Virgil! Uncle Patton!” A pair of voices yelled before two young boys were launching themselves off the stairs towards them. Dad guy yelped in alarm as he attempted to… catch them?

“Jan, your boys are going to give me a heart attack one of these days!” The man yelled through his subdued laughter from his place on the ground.

“And I’ll help them get rid of the body.” The voice from before called. A moment later a short man appeared from what Remy assumed was the kitchen. He looked a lot like dad guy save for the fact he was definitely older than the man. And the mild scarring on the left side of his face.

“Alright boys, that’s enough abunculicide.” The man told the kids who were laughing in dad guy’s arms.

“Aw…” The pair said before releasing him.

Dad guy smiled before standing up and ruffling their hair causing one grin and the other to balk and try to fix it.

“You must be Remy.” The man said, “My name’s Janus, it’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, sir.” Remy told him.

Mr. Janus smiled, “You can call me Janus.”

Yeah that was not happening.

“The two terrors who ambushed you all are my sons Roman and Remus.”

“I’m Roman.” “And I’m Remus.” The two introduced with matching bows, “And together we’re-!” They spun in opposite directions before striking poses back to back, “-the creativitwins!”

Remy couldn’t help but laugh slightly at the theatrics as dad guy clapped excitedly, “Oh that was so cute!” Dad guy told them.

“No it wasn’t!” The pair told him pointedly, “It was cool.” Roman told him.

“Yeah!” Remus agreed.

“Well whatever it was, I loved it.” Dad guy told them.

“Lunch will be ready in about a half hour,” Mr. Janus told them, “So you can all make yourselves at home.”

“Can we go outside?” Remus asked.

“Yes, but-” before the man could finish both boys took off running.

“Come on Virge!” One of them called.

The next thing Remy knew he was being grabbed by the hand and pulled towards the back yard, “Come on Remy!” Virgil told him.

Guess he was going outside.

“-Don’t get too dirty.” Janus finished lamely as all the minors fled to the backyard, “Well I tried.”

Patton chuckled, “Probably should’ve started with that part.”

“How many sons did you want back alive?” He asked.

Patton laughed, “Come on, I’ll help make lunch.

Remy watched the younger kids from his seat on the porch steps. Roman suggested playing super hero’s and was met with agreements until he suggested Virgil be the villain. Which apparently happened a lot.

“Come on, Virgil.” Roman whined, “We need a bad guy!”

“But I always lose when I play the bad guy.” Virgil told them, “Why can’t you be the bad guy and we fight you?”

“Because me and Re are the heroes.” Roman said as if it were obvious.

“We could be bad guys.” Remus told him, “The bad guys are cooler anyway.”

“Noooo.” Roman told him, “We’re the creativitwins! We’re supposed to be the good guys!”

“But we’re always the good guys!” Remus replied.

“Remy!” Virgil called, “Tell them we wanna be the heroes!”

“How about…”

Patton jumped when the mostly silent backyard suddenly erupted in gleeful screams.

“Welcome to the world of raising multiple children.” Janus told him.

Patton smacked his arm lightly before going to peek at the yard. The three younger boys were running around the yard at top speed as Remy made a grab for whoever got closest to him. Patton smiled as Roman yelled for a retreat before all three kids ran for the treehouse. Remy stalked after them, giving the twins enough time to make it to safety, but grabbed Virgil before he could climb high enough.

Virgil squealed as he was pulled away from the tree and yelled for help through his laughter.

Patton cooed at the sight before reluctantly going back to the kitchen.

Virgil laughed wildly even as Remy used him as a partially successful human shield. If he had known there were fully loaded nerf guns, Remy would’ve made it harder for them to get to the treehouse.

“Don’t worry Virge!” One of them yelled, “We’ll rescue you!”

“Dead or alive!” The other added.

Remy laughed, “It’s not a rescue if you kill him!” He told them as they continued to shoot.

“Silence feind!” The first one told him before firing more foam bullets at them.

"Any ideas?” Remy asked Virgil quietly.

“I think there’s more guns on the porch?” Virgil whispered back.

“Perfect.” Remy grinned, “Muwahaha! You can’t defeat me!” He told the pair in the treehouse before running towards the porch with Virgil.

Once there he put Virgil down and the kid directed him to where the extra nerf guns were. The ones in the hidden storage bin were much smaller than the ones the twins had.

“Virgil! You’re not supposed to help the bad guy!”

“Ha ha! I put him under mind control!” Remy told them, “Now I have a minion.”

Virgil snickered before rushing to grab a gun of his own.

“You won’t get away with this, villain!”

“Let him go or face our wrath!”

“Never!” Remy called back, “Pick up as many bullets as you can, but don’t shoot too much, ok?” He whispered to Virgil, “When they run out we can go after them, cool?”

“Yeah!” Virgil whispered excitedly.

It took longer than Remy thought it would for the rain of foam to slow to a stop. “It’s over, heroes. Surrender peacefully and I might spare you.” He told them.

He could hear hushed laugher from the treehouse before one of the boys replied, “Okaay~ just a minuute~”

“Uh-oh.” Virgil said beside him.

“Uh-oh?”

He didn’t have to wait long to figure out what the kids were up to because a second later he was being pelted with various balls, ranging from ping pong to tennis. Before he even had a chance to recover, one of the twins was suddenly right next to him and whacking him with a foam sword.

“What the- hey!” He laughed before trying to fend off the nine-year-old. While he was distracted, the other one had made their way to the ground as well and ambushed him from behind. “Oh shhh-!” He cut himself off as he fell.

The second kid had hit the back of his knees with a foam club. This was definitely not a fair fight.

While the twins were busy beating him to death he suddenly felt the familiar sensation of foam bullets.

“Wha-? Virgil! I thought you were on my side?” He asked incredulously, causing Virgil to laugh, “Betrayed by my own brainwashed minion!”

The kid just giggled harder, “I was just pretending to be mind controlled!” He told him as he continued to fire the toy gun.

The kids screamed in delight as they assaulted him with their various weapons. Remy was ready to admit defeat and call them off when a voice interrupted.

“Alright, boys, that’s enough.” Dad guy said.

‘Oh shit.’

Patton’s heart broke a little as the joy on Remy’s face quickly melted away to something much more subdued. He sent him what he hoped was a reassuring smile but it didn’t seem to help any. “Lunch is ready.” He told them.

“Okay.” the younger kids chorused before dropping their weapons and racing inside.

“Are you alright?” Patton asked, “They might be foam but they can still hurt when the boys get excited.”

“I’m fine.” Remy said casually as he stood up and brushed himself off.

“Alright then.” He smiled, “Then let’s go eat some pizza bread.”

"Pizza bread" as it turned out, was bread with cheese and pepperoni inside. So, more sophisticated than the rolled up pizza slice Remy had pictured. Apparently you were supposed to dip it in some fancy tomato sauce which is why Remy was surprised when Mr. Janus had them all move to the living room to eat.

"Dad, can we watch Avatar?" Roman asked.

"No, let's watch dirty jobs!" Remus told him.

"How about mythbusters?" Roman countered.

"Ah, ah," Mr. Janus told them, "what's the rule for guests?"

"Virgil," They chorused, "wanna watch-" "Avatar?" "Dirty jobs?"

"Um… what about Most Extreme...?" Virgil tried.

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Two to one, we win!" Remus cheered.

"Boys." Mr. Janus told them, "We have more than one guest, remember?"

"Remy, say no!" Roman told him, "Then we pick a different show."

"I don't really have an opinion." Remy told him, "What's "Most Extreme"?"

"They take all the cool stuff from animals like eyes and teeth and show what it would look like if humans had the same ability." Remus told him, "It's neat!"

"Its freaky is what it is." Roman told him.

"That's what makes it cool!"

"I'm gonna pass on the vote." Remy told them.

"He's impartial so we win! The Most Extreme it is!" Remus turned to high five Virgil.

Roman seemed a bit miffed at losing the vote, but it wasn't long before he was staring at the screen with as much interest as the other two. And honestly? Remy got it. The show was actually pretty cool.

Patton smiled as Remy seemed to settle in again and get pulled into the show. He waited until the episode ended and everyone was done eating before moving to collect the empty plates. Unfortunately, the action quickly caught the attention of the teen.

"Don’t worry, I got it." Patton assured as Remy moved to start cleaning up as well.

"It's ok," Remy told him, as he paused somewhat hesitantly, "I don't mind."

Patton smiled, "I appreciate it, but you don't have to. Janus and I are gonna clean up and then we'll probably be heading home."

"Oh," Janus said suddenly, "while I'm thinking about it, we packed up some of our old clothes to donate. You guys can look through them for some play clothes." He told him.

"Sure." Patton told him.

"I'll be right back to help clean up." Janus said before leaving the room.

Remy wasn't sure why he was suddenly on edge. All he knew was something felt off and he didn't like it.

Mr. Janus came back a minute later with three large bags. "Ok," he said as he set them down, "look through and take anything." He told them before pointing to the twins, "No dress up this time." He told them.

"Why not?" Roman asked.

"Because yesterday we had to cut your brother out of a shirt you both knew was too small."

"I was a mutant giant what was I supposed to wear?" Remus asked indignantly.

Remy bit back a smile.

"Preferably something big enough to get yourself out of." Mr. Janus told him.

"Boring~" Remus drawled.

Mr. Janus shook his head fondly, "No dress up." He told them again before leaving to help dad guy.

The second he was gone the twins shared a look before quickly opening the bags and digging through them.

Remy laughed slightly, "Didn't he just say "no dress up"?"

"He said no dress up for us," Roman corrected, "but nothing about us dressing up you or Virgil."

"And so long as he doesn't catch us too quickly we can do it too!" Remus grinned.

Remy quickly turned down any attempts to get him to play dress up, and delegated himself to watching as the older boys coerced Virgil into trying on just about every piece of clothing. They had quickly moved on from the kids clothes that Virgil could feasibly fit in, or at least grow into soonish, to going through Mr. Janus’s old clothes just to wear them.

Virgil was digging through the bag when he suddenly gasped, "Remy!" He said excitedly before pulling something out of the bag and bouncing over, "Look!" He beamed as he held up an old leather jacket, "It's like from the store!"

"Uh, yeah, kinda." Remy admitted.

"I don't remember that one." Roman told them, "It doesn't look like Dad or Noni's."

"Dad!" Remus called.

"What happened?" Mr. Janus answered as he came around the corner before huffing a small laugh, "I see you ignored the dress up rule."

Remus ignored the last part, "Whose jacket is this?" He asked; pointing to the coat Virgil was holding.

Mr. Janus glanced at the jacket Virgil was holding, "That's my old one." He told them, "I haven't worn it since… probably since I was about twenty or so. That's when Noni gave me my other one."

"How long ago was that?" Virgil asked.

Mr. Janus laughed, "Long enough to know I don't need it, let's stick with that."

"That's Dad's way of saying he's old." Remus whispered causing Virgil to giggle.

"I heard that." Mr. Janus told them with an amused eyebrow raise, causing the kids to laugh. Mr. Janus shook his head, "Anyway, like I said you're welcome to anything in the bags." He said with a glance to Remy, "Try not to smother your cousin in the clothes." He told them offhandedly as he went back to the kitchen.

Something was definitely going on.

"Try it on!" Virgil told Remy as he practically shoved the jacket at him.

"I don't know, kid." Remy told him. This whole thing felt like way too much of a coincidence. He wasn't sure how to feel about it. This had to be a set up, right?

"Why not?" Virgil asked.

"I already have a coat, remember?"

"Yeah but this one doesn't cost money." Virgil told him. Dammit. "And at the store you said these were cool."

Stop making good points.

"Oh! It could be part of your villain outfit!" Roman exclaimed, "All super villains need to look cool."

"Otherwise they're just regular villains!" Remus added.

"What's the difference?"

"Presentation!" All three told him.

Ok, well he definitely ran into something there.

"Pleeeease, Remy?" Virgil asked with wide eyes.

... Fucking puppy dog eyes.

Remy sighed, "Ok, fine."

Patton peaked around the corner and smiled. For once he was glad Virgil had learned to weaponize his puppy eyes.

Remy made sure that when dad guy and Mr. Janus came back that he was not wearing the jacket. Just in case.

Thankfully neither mentioned it as they packed up the clothes Virgil. Or as they resorted the rest the kids had used for dress up. They all said their goodbyes, with Mr. Janus saying he hoped to see them again soon, and the twins telling Remy they wouldn't be going so easy on him next time.

If dad guy seemed extra smiley on the way home, it was none of Remy's business.

Remy was not smiling to himself either.

…Whatever.

~~~~~notes~~~~~

For anyone who was wondering, Virgil 100% knows what he's doing when it comes to puppy dog eyes. He was raised by Patton Can't-say-no-to-cute Sanders. And yes. He does use this for evil.

#new big brother #brain dead writes #sanders sides #fan fiction #patton sanders #remy sanders #virgil sanders #child! virgil #janus sanders #trans! janus #roman sanders #remus sanders

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sunseteyes · 4 years ago

Text

FLUFFVEMBER DAY 12: ATSUMU MIYA

prompt: couple’s quiz (prompts are by @jojosmilktea)

word count: 1,766 words | themes: gen!reader. youtuber!reader. fLUFF. i got carried away but this is pretty domestic honestly.

tags: @kacchanori @chickynn @todominica @sparkleswritings @brinthie @patricia-ceballos @giyuus-wife @bitchtrynafck @astrxrism @animatedarchives @deephasoceanmagic @strawberrysalwa (send a dm/ask to be added!)

rv: i know i did say atsumu’s love language here is different but love languages can change especially when you’re already in a relationship. i actually answered the quiz this time in atsumu’s perspective and it’s very difficult but yeah it has to happen lmao. i pretty much agree with the results and yes don’t take it so seriously because i’m not atsumu himself and well this is just from my own perspective, hopefully it was close enough to his character. special mention to my honey @liliannyah nia i’m tagging you here because i know you’ll be simping on tsum tsum here ya go hun

✒︎ love language

mornings with atsumu are peaceful. afternoons are full of fun, and well evenings are the best. that's usually because; around these times are when atsumu is at his best and most positive energy throughout the day.

however for you, you had a schedule beforehand and you have plans on how to spend your day, and it's with atsumu.

"hey babe, can you film with me today?" you situated yourself by the doorway of your shared bedroom, seeing the dirty blonde specks of his hair peaking under the blankets that was covering his body, the rays of light coming from the sun, escaping the gaps from the thin fabric of the curtains by your window. you wanted him to rest as much as he can since he doesn't usually have cancelled trainings, however this is also the best time for you to bond with him more, and you've got the perfect idea for that in your mind.

all he need to do is wake up and-

"i want to sleep." atsumu's voice overcomes the silence, however muffled it was. a frown forms on your lips as you made your way next to the bed, pulling the covers from his form just for him to groan and try to pull it back.

"i want to sleep, (y/n). five more minutes." he has his eyes closed as the fringes of his hair tried to protect them from the brightness of the surroundings, even from you.

atsumu must have felt the bed dip as you sat on his side, his brows furrowing at the faintness of your touch when you reached out to brush his strands away from his handsome face. you grazed lightly on his forehead, removing the sweat that must have formed due to the warmth that summer brought to the temperature.

your frown curls upwards as you admired how atsumu leans onto your hand, even for just a second. you skimmed your hand on your shirt before leaning forward and faced atsumu with an arm supporting your head on the pillow.

"you have to wake up, tsumu. i've got breakfast ready." you sang to him gently, still looking at his face with awe and wonder. most of the time, you question yourself how you got a guy like this. in those silent moments where you just feel so lucky how someone like atsumu miya could love someone like you.

"you're looking at me like that again."

you were broken from your trance as you were met by his gaze, not even looking at you before he said those words.

"what is it?" he breathes out as he closed his eyes again, now snuggling his way towards your form. you sighed and brushes his hair again, feeling out its softness despite the fact that it was dyed and it should be dry under your touch if it weren't for how atsumu takes very good care for it.

"come on, tsumu. the food will get cold." you say, only to feel him slide his arms by your waist, pulling you closer to him, embracing you even.

however no matter how much you liked it, you pushed him away, "tsumu! we're going to film today, wake up!" you whined, prying away from his grasp.

"film?" his face brightens up in almost an instant, his eyelids opening at the same time. "we? you said we?"

you smile at his reaction, relaxing and nodding your head. "yeah, i did, i literally said it five minutes ago. don't you want to?"

"of course i do!" he sits up, an evident pout on his lips. "why didn't ya say so? y'know how long i've been waiting for this day. i don't really get why you keep me from yer subscribers if you loved them so much."

you sat up as well, grinning in amusement. "you really like the attention, do you?"

"wha-? no i don't."

"oh my dear tsumu, you do." you giggle and climbed out of the bed. "come on let's eat first. i already set up everything so we can film right after eating."

time passes by and before you know it, you and atsumu were already in front of the camera, the lights not bothering you anymore with how you were so used to having them around you. atsumu also seemed to be in the similar situation and was much more comfortable with where he was situated, as if this was his moment.

after all, you made him wait for a long time before finally deciding to show him in front of the whole world.

“is this live?”

you nod at him, “yeah, are you nervous?”

“huh-me, nervous? ‘course not.” he scoffs but as you poke his chest and stopped there for awhile, you gave him a smirk, to which he merely slaps your hand away and pouts away.

“hello there! how’s everyone?” you immediately smile at the camera, your laptop showing the bountiful of comments that spams in an instant. you could see atsumu’s reflection on the screen, his grin wide and slightly bit awkward, but it’s not what your fans are commenting about.

“uh-so you guys probably guessed who our guest is.” you smirk, glancing sideways at atsumu. “and yes, he’s my boyfriend. say hello, tsumu.”

atsumu was a natural as he introduces himself on the screen, a welcoming smile on his face, as if he had been filming for a vlog as long as you do and that he was completely adjusting with the situation. you couldn’t help but curve your lips upwards in turn, nodding off eventually at whatever he was saying.

“so! today we, me and atsumu are going to answer a quiz in front of everyone.”

“a quiz?”

“yep! a couple’s quiz.” you purposely didn’t inform atsumu beforehand what you will do and you explained it on the screen as all the attention turns to you.

“what? you scared, tsumu?” you teased him and he juts his lower lips as a reaction.

“‘course not. i’m gonna answer each of them like a pro.”

you laughed heartily as you grabbed your phone, handing atsumu out his at the same time. “me and atsumu are going to answer a couple’s love language quiz and compare our love languages. you guys can answer with us if you like, just search it up on your search engines,” leaning forward, you muttered with “i’m not gonna tell the site coz y’know this is not really a sponsored video.”

your hand suddenly found itself on top of atsumu’s as you explain the five love languages briefly, feeling his gaze on yours despite not looking at him directly. you have no idea if he was paying attention with your ramblings but if he’s busy admiring you, you’re too humble to even think about it.

or not.

“so, are you ready tsumu?” he was cut off of his trance and he pretends he was alright when he smiles in the camera and answers enthusiastically.

“but what if i like both?”

“there’s no option for both tsumu.”

“but i like hugging you and receiving letters. remember when you confessed to me with a-“

your hand immediately shoots up to his mouth and he chuckles in delight in the victory of having to tease you in front of your fans. by now you’re wondering if you should regret having atsumu for the first time in your vlog in live.

“these questions are really difficult.” you say, finding yourself stuck into yet again an array of indecisiveness.

“where are you already?”

“i’m at 23%” you answer, glancing up at atsumu. “‘bout you?”

“30%,” he says, shooting an eye at the camera. “(y/n)’s really slow especially when answering these types of quizzes. they’re that indecisive.”

“what-“

“i’m the decisive one in this relationship. that’s why i have to always ask them three hours before our date which place they would like to eat at.”

you gave up on reprimanding atsumu as you focused on your questionnaire, picking an answer as atsumu chats with your fans who commented about how they noticed about it too.

“see? your fans agree to me. we’re already best of friends.”

you shook your head as you found yourself grinning from atsumu’s words.

“oh- a back rub seems nice.” you heard him mutter later on and when you glanced at him, he was not looking at you but you could tell with how he gripped on his shoulders that he’d need one sooner or later after the film.

it was not unusual for you to massage him every once in awhile, or maybe more than that. that habit actually started way before you two had gotten together and he always told you how you’re good with your hands. he admitted one morning after some time of being officially a couple that he liked your massages a lot.

atsumu finishes the quiz first before you and he takes the initiative of talking with your fans as you finish up yours. you laugh along with them every time atsumu attempts to make a joke and read along the lines of the comments section.

“yay i’m done!”

atsumu turns to you with a “took you long enough” but he places a hand by your knee, his attention now on yours. “so, what did you get?”

“my highest is quality time!” you leaned to the camera lens as you showed your results to the screen, making sure that you were able to really make it visible. “followed by receiving gifts and physical touch. how about you, ‘tsumu? what’d you get?”

he places his phone next to yours before he answers with a bright smile. “i got the same too! looks like me and (y/n) are real meant to be, don’t you think?”

you could feel your cheeks burn especially when he pulls his phone away and reaches out to your side just to place his hand on your waist, keeping it there like a protective and proud boyfriend he is. you were speechless for awhile and it was a good thing that atsumu led the conversation on in your silence. whether it was intentional or not, that you didn’t know.

but now that you realized it, atsumu and you had the same results most probably because both of you wanted to spend more time and moments like this with each other. sooner than later, he’ll be busy with trainings again and you with your vlogs.

feeling that familiar sense of radiance in your chest, you leaned your head on atsumu’s shoulders, once again feeling lucky to have him by your side, even with the littlest of times.

#atsumu miya #atsumu x reader #atsumu fluff #miya twins hq #haikyuu fluff #fluffvember 2020 #fluffvember #roze.fluffvember #roze.hq #roze.daydream

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imaginationofacrazyfangirl · 4 years ago

Text

{Metanoia}

Pairing: Jungkook x female reader, Older brother! Jimin x Reader, Hoseok x reader

*8k- ongoing

Genre: Enemies to lovers, childhood friends, major misunderstandings

Warnings: Thigh riding, Fingering, Oral (male receiving)

Summary: The first time you meet Jungkook, he pushes you off the slide. Second time he calls you ugly. After that things continue spiraling downwards: he cuts your dolls’ heads off, tells everyone you’re a freak at school, spreads malicious rumors; Jungkook’s sole purpose in life is tormenting you. So why five years later is he insisting you two belong together?

Based on a prompt request by @bangtaened-army turned fic. Sorry bangtaened-army for the wait, and the fact that I still haven’t touched the original requested prompt..

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"I can't believe you would do this to me, Jiminie. After everything I have ever done for you. " you hiss into the phone. Your low voice does little not to garner the nosy looks of other people awaiting their luggage. Despite it being two am at an airport people never tired of drama, and you plotting the murder of your older brother could feed a whole TV show. See Jimin was supposed to pick you at the baggage claim. Keywords supposed to. However, instead of being greeted by your annoying yet lovable sibling you were greeted by someone just plain annoying.

"You're being dramatic, (Y/N). I sent Jungkook to pick you up, not Ted Bundy." Jimin replies dryly. Even through the phone you can tell he is rolling his eyes at you. He never understood your hatred towards Jungkook. To him, the dark haired boy is a sweet innocent boy who could do no wrong but you know better. The devil lives inside Jungkook.

"I would've preferred the serial killer. At least he'd be less of an ass-" Jungkook grabs the phone from your hand purposely shifting away so you can't take it back. Not that it makes much difference. Even if he was facing you, you would have to jump to reach him. "Hey man, it's me. Yeah, I know she's a pain but I'll bring her home. No don't worry about it I'm used to it by now. "

You roll your eyes at this. "Used to it by now," once again everyone sees you as the problem, not Jungkook. Forget the fact he tortured you all throughout childhood. Or that he's the reason everyone bullied you throughout high school. "Here, you going to behave now or throw another tantrum?" Jungkook asks, hanging back your phone.

Immediately you snatch it from his hands clutching it close to your chest. "Never take my phone out of my hand again. You hear me, Jeon?!"

"Then stop acting like a child and we won't have a problem." Jungkook snarks, arms folded over his chest as he looked down upon you as a parent would.

"Fuck you, Jeon! I'll find my own way home." You snap spinning around on your heels.

However before you can even take a step, caveman Jungkook throws you over his shoulders. He smacks your ass undoubtedly grinning as he does so. "Alright princess, enough playing. I promised your family to drive you home safely and I'm going to do just that. "

"You heathen! Let me down!" You pound against his back to no avail. He merely hits your butt again continuing to walk through the airport without a care. Seriously where did airport security go? Aren't they supposed to be on alert for kidnappers or something?

Apparently not because Jungkook strolls straight past a guard twiddling his thumbs. "Seriously?! Way to keep Korea safe man. I'm being kidnapped before your eyes here, dumbass."

The guard shoots Jungkook and you a questioning look, clearly unamused by you calling him ‘dumbass.’ Jungkook lets out a nervous laugh, bowing apologetically towards the guard. His grip on you not slipping for even a second. "Sorry she's drunk. Please ignore her."

The guard nods. "Best get her out of here or I'll have to detain her for drunken disorder."

"Will do. Thanks."

"I am not drunk-" you start only Jungkook to hit you yet again hard. You yelp face turning red as the guard laughs. "I swear to God I will murder you. "

"Do you want security to detain you? Because I'm pretty sure you'll be flagged as a flight hazard and stuck in Korea forever. "

Just the mere thought sends shivers down your spine. "No, thank you. "

"Didn't think so. " Jungkook replies. He carries you all the way to his car parked in the visitors' center. Not even letting you go as he climbed the three flights of stairs to get there. Undoubtedly he guessed-and correctly so- you'd run the second he let his guard down. Even when he sets you down to open his car door one hand remains firmly wrapped around your wrist.

You sigh loudly. "Isn't this a little overkill? We're at your car now."

"Sit." He merely says, pointing at the seat.

Tossing him a glare you do as told. Despite your previous bravado you know full well Jungkook is right, he is your only way home. Taxis are too expensive, and the rideshare apps went nowhere near your home. As much as you don’t want to admit it, Jungkook’s won this round. Still that doesn’t warrant the victorious grin on Jungkook’s face or the added salt of him reaching over to buckle your belt. "Overkill. Utter overkill. "

"Got to keep the princess safe don't I?" he says sweetly.

You cringe. "Enough with the princess stuff. You know I hate that. "

“You didn’t hate it when you were riding my dick last time you came home.” Jungkook mentions, sliding into the driver’s seat beside you. Heat rises to your cheeks at the memory of your last visit: Jungkook’s large hands gripping your waist as you fucked him in the backseat of his car. His hot breath against your ear whispering dirty things that would make a porn star blush. That feeling of your toes curling as he hits the right spot-

You shake the memory away. Fucking Jungkook was a mistake. It should’ve never happened. “That was a one time thing, Jeon. I was vulnerable last time. I just got out of a three year relationship-”

“And you just happened to fall on my dick several times.” Jungkook snorts. His tone stays calm but you can see how his knuckles whitened gripping the steering wheel. “Look you can make all the excuses you want, but it doesn’t change what happened between us. We had sex. Good sex if I might add.”

“Great sex.” You admit. “But that’s all.”

As great as Jungkook and you were together, you couldn’t let yourself fall into his trap again. The dark haired boy bullied you for years. He made you cry countless times. Great sex didn’t change anything. Not when you know Jungkook would hurt you in the end. Neither of you speak as Jungkook pulls out of the parking lot. Whatever conversation you have ends like it always does in harsh words. So for the next hour and a half you stare out the window contemplating your life until your eyes close shut.

It’s not until a door slams that you open them again. Half awake you can barely make out the familiar street lights of your neighborhood hanging above, or the equally memorable

houses of it surrounding you. Your car door opens to reveal a haggard Jungkook. He leans over unbuckling you without a word. His soft lush hair tickles your skin as he struggles to get you free. You reach out to comb your fingers through it.

“Are we here?” you mumble, entranced by the silky feel of his hair. “Do we need to get out?”

Jungkook nods. “Yeah, we’re here. Go back to sleep princess. I got it.”

You yawn barely comprehending as an arm slides underneath your knees. “Okay, but only if you’re sure.”

Closing your eyes again you miss Jungkook’s soft whisper of, ‘I’m sure.’

-----

Sunlight hits your face chasing away your dreamless sleep. Your eyes open slowly, greeted by the harshness of lavender colored walls filled with high school photos and cringey boy band posters from way back in the day. Nothing about your bedroom has changed moving out all those years ago. Everything stayed exactly the same from when you were a teenager. Dreadfully so unfortunately.

Groaning you stretch trying to remember how you got into bed. Last thing you remember is asking Jungkook if you were home as he unclipped your seatbelt, so you had to have gotten up. You must’ve been so tired nothing really processed. A thirteen hour flight would do that to you after all. “Look what the cat dragged in. I see you survived the car ride with Jungkook alright.” Jimin grins, standing in the doorway of your room.

You toss a pillow at him only to miss. “Barely. Seriously what were you thinking having him pick me up? You know how I feel about him.”

Jimin rolls his eyes. “I was thinking I have work the next day, and that Jungkook is the only guy I trust to pick up my little sister. Because not only would he keep her safe, but he’s the type of guy to carry her inside when she’s passed out.”

Your mouth dried. “What?”

“I said Jungkook carried your ungrateful ass inside.”

Suddenly the memory of Jungkook carrying you in comes to mind. His strong arms wrapped around you as your fingers buried themselves into his shirt. You were only half awake, but you remember everything from the way his cologne smelt to the soft beat of his heart lulling you back to sleep. ‘Sweet dreams princess.’

“No way. He hates me-besides I’m wearing pajamas!” You protest.

Jimin sighs. “Yeah. That I may have punched him for doing, but (Y/N), Kook doesn’t hate you. Trust me, that boy couldn’t hate you if he tried.”

“I don’t believe you.” How could you? The first day you ever met Jungkook he kicked you off the slide causing you to scrape your knees. Second time you two met he called you ugly before running off to play with Jimin. After that things got worse, from destroying your barbies, putting kick me signs on you, spreading rumors about you in high school, to telling your crush you were a slut. If those weren’t the actions of a boy who hates you, then you don’t know what is.

Jimin murmurs something about ‘misunderstandings’ under his breath, but doesn’t clarify. Instead he simply says. “Look, think what you want, but Jungkook spent the night yesterday since he was too tired to drive home. So be nice okay?”

“Whatever.” you reply, not mentioning the fact he lives down the road. Just this once you’d behave. After all, he did carry you home.

Jimin smiles, tossing the pillow back. Naturally it hits you right square in the face. "Good girl. Now get dressed. The last thing I need to see is my best friend eyeing up my little sister. "

You let out a silent curse, but do as told. Honestly it really didn't matter. When you lived at home you walked around in yoga pants while braless all the time, Jungkook be damned. This was your house and you refused to give up comfort because your brother's friend came over. It drove Jimin insane. To the point he'd throw random items until you either changed or returned to your room. However that was ages ago before Jungkook ever saw you naked or bent you over the counter of his kitchen.

“Stop it.” You slap yourself. “Thinking about it will do you no good.”

Unfortunately the pep talk does little to stop the wanting ache between your legs. Jungkook is the last person you slept with since breaking up with your ex. After you returned to America the last time you simply threw yourself into work, barely sparing a glance at the opposite gender. “Fuck. You need to get laid, (Y/N). Preferably not by Jeon this time.” you whispers.

-----

Breakfast is an interesting affair. Like always your parents and brother treat Jungkook as if he's part of the family, your mother piles food onto his plate while your father and Jimin discuss the latest sports and news trends with him. Occasionally one of your parents will praise Jungkook on something he did, mentioning how proud they are of him to which Jungkook eats up like a starving man at a feast.

Meanwhile you play around with your rice ignoring the sour feeling of getting ignored by your own family. After all, it's not like you lived out of the country and only came home once in a blue moon. So what did it matter if your childhood enemy ate up all your attention? "Thank you again, Jungkook, for bringing (Y/N) home. I know how much of a pain she can be to you. " your mother says.

Jungkook grins, the sun practically illuminating him from behind as he tactfully shrugs off the gratitude with a, 'It's no problem, Mom.' His butter wouldn't melt in my mouth routine sickens you to the point you want to vomit.

"I would've been perfectly fine finding my own ride home. " You mumble indignantly.

The comment earns you a sharp whack on the head by your mother's slipper. "The words are, 'thank you, Jungkook. ' I swear I don't know how I raised such an ungrateful daughter. "

You roll your eyes, swallowing the comment about her shitty parenting skills. "I mean how are you ever going to find a husband with that bad attitude of yours?" She laments, projecting into her usual rant of marriage and grandchildren.

Like always you ignore it taking the few blows to the head she gave whenever ranting about your marital future. Besides you, Jimin snickers enjoying your torment, having been born a boy he's safe from your mother's wrath since 'no girl is good enough for my precious Jimmie.' Thankfully your father has an ounce of sympathy left for you. "She's doing fine, hunny. (Y/N) has a good home and a steady job-"

"You're too soft on her! That's why she's like this. " your mother dismisses. "I mean what man would fall for a woman with such an ugly personality?"

Your heart gives a painful squeeze at her words, while such speech is common with your mother that doesn't make it hurt any less. "Actually I know someone who'd be interested in going out with (Y/N)." Jungkook pipes up, a big grin stretching across his face.

You shoot him a warning glare to which he shrugs off. A surprise gasp- that is way too exaggerated in your opinion- escapes your mom, she looks at Jungkook as if he hung the moon. "Oh Jungkook, that would be wonderful. But we ask you to risk your friendship like that."

"I promise you're not. This guy has loved- liked (Y/N) for a long time. He knows what she's like. " Jungkook waves off.

"Really? Who?" your dad asks, causing you to frown. Why does everyone think you are so unlovable? Seriously you are starting to get insulted, although you also question Jungkook and his 'friend. '

Jimin snorts, giving Jungkook a weird look. "Yes Jungkook, who is this mysterious guy madly in love with my sister?"

The tips of Jungkook's ears turn red and he ducks his head sheepishly, probably not expecting Jimin to call him out on his bluff. "What does it matter? A man is interested in our (Y/N)! All my prayers are answered!" Your mom cries, saving Jungkook from whatever bullshit he is about to spout. "Oh Jungkook, you're so wonderful. Any mother would be lucky to have you."

"Hey!" Jimin protests, earning a string of reassurances and praises from your mother. For a man who prided himself on his cool nature, Jimin was a mama's boy.

"I'm going to get started on the dishes. " you sigh, collecting the empty plates. As much as you love your family there's only so much one can take of them, hence moving to America.

"I'll help." Jungkook says, quickly gathering the dishes from your hand. Without another word he disappears into the kitchen like a little boy eager to impress his mom or in this case your mom; it adds to your rising irritation. You don't know what his game is, but if Jungkook thinks he can pull a fast one on you, he'll be sorely surprised.

You enter the kitchen to find Jungkook already washing the dishes, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up displaying his smooth muscular arms. Your eyes roam over them taking in the tattoos littered on his tan skin; he had gotten more since you last saw him, practically a full sleeve now. They look good on him not that you would ever admit it. "Hey, I wash, you dry?" Jungkook offers, throwing a towel your way.

You frown. "I got it. Go back to the table."

Jungkook scoffs. "Seriously? You would rather do dishes- which you hate doing- then spend five minutes with me?"

"Oh don't try to guilt trip me, Jeon. That whole 'I know someone who likes (Y/N),' what utter bullshit. " you snap. "Tell me, were you going to laugh when I arrived at some restaurant only and no one comes?"

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “You really need to see someone about this paranoia issue of yours, because this is beginning to get ridiculous.”

“Excuse me? Paranoid? You bullied me all my life-"

"I pushed down the slide when we were four. Get over it."

"You cut off my barbies' head! Repeatedly called me ugly. Spread rumors about me in high school, and to top the cherry off you told Hoseok, I was a slut. So no I won't get over it." You stomp your foot.

Jungkook clenches his jaw, the cup in his hand practically cracking under his grip. He says nothing, dropping the cup and sponge into the sink, before storming out like a madman.From the living room your parents call out Jungkook's name only for him to ignore them. The front door slams shut shaking the house so hard that the dishes tremble in their drying rack.

"What happened to being nice to Jungkook?" Jimin's voice surprises you from behind. Disappointment is written all over his face, and the way his body positions itself (arms crossed, legs parted) tells you, you're in for a lecture.

You turn away not in the mood to be parented by someone two years your senior. Especially not when he allots Jungkook to bully you without a single reprimand. "He started it. Telling mom he'd set me up with some imaginary guy only to laugh when I get 'stood up."

Jimin groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You two are killing me. Look I can't spell it out for you, that is Jungkook's business, so I am just going to say this...I destroyed your barbies not Jungkook. "

You froze. "What?"

"I cut off Minnie's, Hana's and Lany's heads. You pissed me off by eating my snack. I wanted revenge." Jimin shrugged.

"B-but I caught Jungkook red handed! I saw him with Minnie's head!"

A sheepish look grew on his face. He tucks a piece of hair behind his ear, a habit he did whenever nervous. "Yeah, he was trying to fix her. "

The dish in your hands drops shattering against the kitchen floor. Your mouth opens but no words come out; funny seeing how thousands of thoughts run through your head. "You asshole!"

Jimin winces. "Sorry. It was a dick move- but my point is you thought Jungkook did it and he didn't. So isn't it possible you are wrong about everything else?”

------

You spend the next few days wandering around town bored. While you feel grateful to be home and see everyone you love, the list of things to do in your town is actually quite small compared to home ( perks of living in a small town). Outside of grocery shopping with your mom, reading on the veranda with your father, and bugging Jimin whenever possible, there’s not much to do. Things are especially boring since Jungkook disappeared after that morning. The bunny looking boy normally makes it his personal mission to bother you as much as possible. Disregarding the few hours he has to work, Jungkook always was there first thing in the morning to laugh at your ridiculous bed head. Yet for the last few days he’s been nowhere in sight. When asked about it Jimin merely shrugged saying he was busy, before smirking and stating unnecessarily, “If you miss him that much, why don’t you call him yourself?”

It isn’t that you miss Jungkook, despite what Jimin said about your Barbie dolls, you still believe deep down he hates you. After all just because you were wrong about one thing didn’t mean you were wrong about everything else. No, you asked Jimin, because it’s unusual given that the boy practically lived at your home. It’s not like you actually miss his stupid face over something. Perhaps if you had more friends this boredom wouldn’t be an issue. Sadly you weren’t much of a social butterfly back in high school; unlike Jimin who was part of the “popular” crowd, you were an outcast. As much as you tried, the only people who would hangout with you were Jimin’s friends.

At first you thought it was something you did, but later you found out Jungkook told everyone you were a ‘freak of nature,’ and it was only because he and the others felt bad that they hung around you. Hearing what he said devastated you. It was the first time you realized how much Jungkook hated you. Moreover his words stopped you from ever really trusting anyone who wanted to be friends.

“Isn’t it possible you are wrong about everything else?”

Pushing the thought back you try to ignore the nagging feeling growing inside birthed by your brother’s words. You fucking doubt it. How could something like that be so easily explained away? “I think this is your fifth lap around town.” a familiar voice calls out, snapping you back to reality. “People are beginning to think you’re a weirdo.”

You don’t even have to look up to tell who it is. On this planet only one person owns a voice so annoying it instantaneously grates on your nerves. “Get lost, Jeon. I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

He snorts, continuing to follow you in his car. “You know it’s supposed to storm today right? You should head home before it pours.”

“Like I said: No One Asked You, Jeon.” you reply, promptly turning on your heels to head in the opposite direction. He’s the last person you want to see given your current thoughts. Whatever longing you might’ve previously had for him disappeared the moment you remembered why Jungkook was your enemy. Thankfully he doesn’t follow most likely finding something more interesting to waste his time on.

You continue walking onwards too infuriated by the past to notice the dark clouds starting to form above. It’s not until something wet hits your skin that you take notice of the sudden drop in temperature and gathering winds. “Fuck.” you hiss feeling another raindrop.

Of course Jungkook would be right. The universe just fucking loved him like everyone else did. You get stuck with the short end though: running in the rain searching for shelter, only for you to naturally find yourself in the part of town empty of all businesses. “Perhaps I can stand under a tree until it calms down.”

Lightning flashes across the sky followed by a loud BOOM of thunder making you jump. A small sob escapes your lips as you subconsciously curl yourself into a ball. Thunder always scares you no matter how old you get. “I’m not here. I’m not here.” you whisper, rocking on balls of your feet.

However the deafening sounds of thunder destroys any hopes of pretending to be elsewhere. So you curl tighter into a ball praying for it all to stop. Overwhelmed with fear you don’t process the feel of someone’s jacket draping over you or the angry voice of Jungkook saying, “I told you to go home.”

It’s not until he yet again scoops you into his arms that you snap from your trance. You watch shocked as he carries you to the car. Through the rain and lightning he looks nothing like the boy you remember. Instead...he looks like a man you could very well fall in love with.

“Jung...Jungkook” You mumble, gripping his shirt as he sets you down into the passenger seat. He looks up at you in a mixture of curiosity and surprise. Neither of you can remember the last time you called him by his first name. It’s always been Jeon never Jungkook. “Thank you....”

“Don’t worry about it.” Jungkook replies, shutting the car door. He walks over to the driver’s side sliding easily into it.

Now clear from the rain you can make out how drench he really is: hair soaked, clothes sticking to his skin, it makes you all too aware of the jacket covering you. Reluctantly you shrug it from your shoulders missing the comforting weight of it almost immediately. “Here. This is yours. You should wear it.”

Jungkook glares. “Keep it.

“No. It’s yours. You must be freezing without it-”

“I said keep it! God damn it, (Y/N). Why can’t you listen for once?” he snaps, hitting the steering wheel. You recoil taken back by his outburst. Never have you seen Jungkook so angry. At most Jungkook stormed off or glared whenever mad at you, never did he raise his voice at you. "I told you to go home. I told you it was going to storm but you didn’t listen."

"I'm sorry…"

"You don't get it. You could've gotten sick if I didn't find you in time. Or worse you could have gotten hurt…"

"Oh." You reply, unsure what to say. Worrying about you wasn't something you expected from Jungkook, but it strikes a painful chord within you. Your heart should be warmed by the thought instead a painful sinking feeling fills it. Suddenly you want nothing more than to burst into tears. “You were worried?”

Jungkook lets out a long tired sigh. "Of course I was worried. You’ve been terrified of thunder storms since we were five, why wouldn’t I worry about you being out in one?”

‘Trust me, that boy couldn’t hate you if he tried.’ Jimin’s words ring in your ears. ‘My point is you thought Jungkook did it and he didn't. So isn't it possible you are wrong about everything else?’

Could Jimin be right? Is everything you thought one big misunderstanding? You were so sure of Jungkook’s guilt previously, but now...you couldn’t picture him as the sinister bully you’ve known all your life. “I’m sorry. I should’ve listened and turned around.” you admit, “I’m so used to chalkin everything you say off as meaningless teasing, I didn’t consider you actually meant well.”

“You never do.” Jungkook huffs. For a second you swear you can see pain fill his dark bambi eyes as he looks at you. It is an expression you’ve never seen on his face before, a look of hurt and dejection. Again your heart twists painfully in your chest. “You always assume I’m out to get you, when really I’m just trying to be nice. I mean sure I tease and joke around with you, but (Y/N), I would never purposefully hurt you. I know you don’t believe me-”

“Okay. I believe you.”

Jungkook’s foot slips hitting the break. The car lurches forward causing you both to nearly hit your heads on the dashboard. His head snaps in your direction so fast it practically gives you whiplash. “What? What did you say?”

Around you, cars honk aggravated by the standstill in the middle of traffic; you don’t care though. All you care about right now is the look of disbelief, shock, and hope marring Jungkook’s beautiful face. In that moment you realize how little you care about the truth. It’s unexplainable the sudden urge to move on from your prior hate, but you want to...you want to believe Jungkook is a good guy. “I believe you, Jungkook.” you swallow hard. “And I’m sorry for being such a bitch to you. So please forgive me.”

You don’t know what you expected Jungkook’s reaction to be, however it certainly wasn’t this. “I’ll think about it.”

If not for the sudden smirk pulling at his lips, you would’ve felt horrible. Instead you feel infuriated. “You asshole. I take it back. I’m not sorry. You hear me?! Not sorry!”

Jungkook merely laughs, shaking his head. “No backsies remember, (Y/N)? You can’t take it back.”

You glower remembering the childish rule Jimin, Jungkook and you made up in elementary school. It was to keep each other from ducking out of any dares or promises made, and apparently apologies now. “I hate you.”

Jungkook laughs harder. “I’m sure you do. Let’s go home, huh? I’ll make you hot chocolate if you behave.”

“I always behave.” You mutter, rolling your eyes. A second passes. “There better be whipped cream and marshmallows with that.”

“Anything you want princess. Anything you want.”

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

You wonder if it’s creepy to find Jungkook so attractive while wearing your brother’s clothings. On Jimin, this grey sweatpants and hoodie combo makes him look like a homeless man, but on Jungkook, it has your mouth practically watering. The normally baggy material conforms perfectly to his body hiding nothing to the imagination. You see every curve, groove, muscle and bone (especially a certain large one in the middle of his sweats) in this boy’s body, and then to make things even worse you catch a sliver of tan skin anytime Jungkook raises his arms. Beautiful tan skin whose tantalizing taste and feel plagues your mind.

Suddenly you regret not putting up a fight about Jungkook coming over. Sure he was soaking wet from giving you his jacket, however Jungkook also lived down the street from you-he didn’t have to change into Jimin’s clothes. “Do you know if the dryer’s free?” Jungkook asks, lifting up said bundle of drenched clothes.

“Ummm, yeah I believe so. You want me to put them up for you?” you offer, trying not to stare. Although things are technically supposed to be cool between you guys now, they’re not. Years of mistrust and hatred don’t simply vanish after an apology or sudden decision to forgive, instead the emotions built between you two need to be sorted through and really only time could do that. Which is why you try super hard not to let lust takeover and destroy the fragile truce recently made.

Jungkook shakes his head. “Thanks, but I can manage."

You nod not knowing what else to say. Again his lips twist in that disgusting smirk you so despise, this time paired with a wink. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon enough for your ogling pleasure.”

Quickly you look away, “Who’s ogling who, Jeon? Cause it’s certainly not me.”

“Oh really?” Jungkook says, cocking an eyebrow. He steps forward caging you against the wall. Something dangerous gleams within those large eyes of his as Jungkook stares down at you with a ravenous look. Shivers run down your spine sending a delicious shock through your body. “That’s too bad, because I was definitely ogling you, princess. Seeing you wear this oversized shirt gives me sooo many ideas.”

You swallow hard, licking your suddenly dry lips. “Stop joking around. You and I know there’s nothing sexy about this shirt.”

“I disagree. Believe it or not, I find girls sexiest when they’re comfortable with themselves. All that lace and lingerie is nice, but nothing is hotter than a girl wearing my shirt and nothing else.” Jungkook admits. “It brings out the territorial side in me.”

Your brows crease. “That makes sense I guess, but this isn’t your shirt. It’s Jimin’s-”

“Mine. I left it here one night after sleeping over Junior year. “ he explains. “You stole it from Jimin’s drawer thinking it was his.”

“Oh….sorry. I’ll give it back.” Despair fills you at the thought. This is your favorite shirt regardless of it being a plain white t-shirt, it always makes you feel safe and comfy when wearing it as odd as it sounds. However you can’t afford to disrupt the newfound civialty between Jungkook and you.

Jungkook snorts. “Keep it. Not like it will fit me anymore. Besides like I said, nothing turns me on more than a woman in my shirt. Why do you think I never asked for it back, princess?”

He reaches out to toy with the hem of the shirt, his fingers drawing soft circles against your hip bone. "Although I think I'd prefer you without it on, or rather anything on at all."

"Jungkook…" you barely managed to get out as he lifts the material upwards. Cold air hits instantly pebbling your nipples despite the rush of warmth growing below. Instinctively you move to cover yourself only for Jungkook to grab your wrist.

"Please (Y/N). I've been dying to touch you since day one of your return." He begs, bringing your hand down.

"Okay." You whisper.

"Okay. " he smiles, pressing his lips to yours. Those large hands clutch your shoulders as he presses further against you. All those curves and muscles you admired previously push up against your bare skin. Through the sweatpants you can feel how hard he is.

A gasp escapes you as Jungkook's hands move towards your breasts caressing the underbelly of them. His fingers circle the outer edges of your nipples tracing them, before finally moving to touch them. He treats you like glass, a vast difference from your previous encounters and it's starting to annoy you . "I'm not made of glass you know?" You remind, stopping his hands. "You can be rough with me. "

"Trust me, I know. If memory serves correct you prefer it when I do something like this-" Jungkook snorts, grinding into you. The friction of his length against your clothed heat is exactly what you need. Moaning loudly you grip onto his arms trying to steady yourself.

"That's it. Such a slut for friction. You honestly thought I'd forget how you made yourself cum on my thigh that night?" Jungkook smirks, fingers grazing along the edges of exposed skin. Goosebumps rise along wherever he touches and you squirm like underneath him. His smirk widens as he plays along the hem of your booty shorts. "I had to wash my jeans afterwards, they were so drenched from you. "

"I didn't hear you complaining." You shoot back, pressing your hips against him in efforts to regain that delicious friction. "If I remember correctly you had fun flexing your leg underneath me."

"Never said I didn't. In fact I would very much like a repeat of that night." Jungkook grins, shifting so his thigh is between your legs. The muscle in his leg flexes teasing your core; in a commanding tone he whispers, "Go crazy, princess. Ride me. Right here, right now, I promise I'll take care of ya. "

That's all you need to hear to descend into madness. Almost instinctively you latch onto Jungkook digging your nails into his firm shoulders as you wantonly thrust against his leg. Moans escape your lips in wild abandon as his muscles rub against your clit at the perfect angle. Jungkook is right you are a whore for thigh riding.

Just when you think it can't get any better Jungkook's hand slips under your panties, fingers immediately finding that hard pearl between your legs. He brushes it softly causing you to hiss as your knees close in unwillingly to give up such feeling. Now this is more like it.

"You like that?" He teases, forefinger circling your clit slowly.

"Mmhmm…" you nodd, grinding harder in an attempt to pick up his pace.

"Words princess. Tell me exactly what you want. "

"More. " you cry out. "Kook. More please. I need you. "

Oddly the nickname spurs him on if the harsh whisper of, 'fuck' says anything. If not then certainly the desperate opened mouth pressed to your lips does. Silently you make a mental note to use the nickname again but it's momentarily lost as his fingers pick up speed. This time it's you uttering curses as Jungkook brings you right to the edge of cumming.

"Please, please, I'm so close." You want him so badly it's ridiculous. The smirk widens on his face, Junkook decides to reward you by slipping two of his fingers into your core. "Fuck Kook!"

"That's it, princess. Come for me. Show me how good you feel." Jungkook pumps his fingers into you. All words leave you as a haze of ecstacy falls over you, all you can is moan rocking deliberately against his hand. With every thrust his fingers somehow hit that special spot inside you.

Jungkook's an expert at knowing all your spots and kinks, almost as if he memorized everything about you, last time he and you were together. Either way impressed doesn't even begin to describe how you feel about his abilities. You moan his name, holding onto to him tightly as you orgasm onto his thigh. It lasts longer than expected small waves of pleasure still coming despite the relaxed posture of your body resting on his.

Gently Jungkook strokes your hair in a manner similar to what lovers do after such an event. Alarm bells ring out at the action, but you make no move to stop him. "Was that a good enough reenactment for you?" You mention, half teasing.

Jungkook grins. "Better than good. You got me so hard, princess, I don't know how I can last."

This time it's you who smirks. Sliding off of his thigh, you get on your knees anxious for the next act. "Well then, I better make what little time you do have as great as possible. "

Before Jungkook can say a word you reach under the waistband of his sweats gripping his length tenderly in your hand. The groan uttered from Jungkook's lips at the slightest touch of your hand ignites another fire within you. Smirk widening you pull out your prize, taking a second to admire the gorgeous cock. Despite having seen it before you can never quite get its length or the beautiful curve of it.

Running a finger along the thick veins you see a bit of pre-cum at its tip. "You weren't joking when you said that last act turned you on." You tease, swiping over his head with your thumb.

Staring into his eyes, you put your thumb into your mouth sucking off the cum. The salty taste makes your mouth water, with an exaggerated pop take your thumb out. "Fuck, (Y/N). Don't tease, I'll go insane if you do." Jungkook pleads.

"So needy." You say, taking him into your mouth. Thankfully your last boyfriend was somewhat of a blow job junkie, and while Jungkook is twice as large as he was, you have no problem taking his length into your mouth. The tip touches the back of your throat, instinctively you hollow your cheeks sucking in a slow teasing manner.

You swirl your tongue about his base enjoying the beautiful noises Jungkook made under your tongue. Soon a hand buries itself into your hair, gripping tightly in an attempt to control the pace. Normally you wouldn't allow such behavior preferring your lover to suffer under you, however there's something about Jungkook's desperation to get off using your mouth that sends heat pooling to your core. It doesn't take long until he's spilling into your mouth, hands pulling on your hair he thrusts his hips forward pushing himself further into your mouth.

“Shit, princess. That was great. Almost as good as cumming inside you." Jungkook sighs running a hand through his messy hair.

You smile wiping the corners of your mouth clean. "Unfortunately you're going to have to miss out. Jimin will be home soon."

Again his hands make their way to your hips, already you can tell he's angling for another kiss. "We'll have to be quick then. "

Jungkook leans forward, but this time you pull away. "The last thing Jimin needs is to walk in on us….besides we need to wash these sweats before he gets home. "

His lips curl into a smile practically relishing in your embarrassment, "Fair enough princess, but don't think we are done yet. I plan on making your toes curl as much as possible until the plane ride home. "

You cock an eyebrow. “Those are big words coming from a man who just begged me to cum. What makes you think I’m going to let you?”

“Easy, because you like it as much as I do.” Jungkook replies, grinding himself once more against you. A sharp hiss escapes you; almost uncontrollably you push back desperate for that sweet friction, however Jungkook moves away denying any sensation. “ Nuh uh, Jimin’s going to be home soon. Wouldn’t want him catching us, now would we (Y/N)? You’ll have to wait until next.”

“You, son of a bitch!” You snap, glaring daggers at his retreating form. As much as you hate to admit it, something tells you this newfound friendship with Jungkook is going to be more than you bargained for.

--------

Despite what your parents may think, your summer vacation home isn’t an excuse to be lazy. While it is true that Korea’s summer vacations are shorter than American's, as a teacher you still have plenty of work left to do during the student’s time off. One such thing happens to be reading over the posts written by your honor’s literature course throughout the break. Normally you graded them at night when everyone was asleep, but as your class delves deeper into the context of Frankenstein, you find yourself unable to keep your nightly routine with the density of the topic. Hence why you now sit in a cafe hunched over your laptop rereading Joni’s obviously copyrighted post.

“You look lost in thought.” A cheery voice teases.

For a second your brain tricks into thinking it’s Jungkook talking, after all he’s been bothering you extra since the two of you made the transition from enemies to fuck buddies. So it wouldn’t be unusual if the dark haired boy stalked you to the cafe to annoy you. However when you look up it’s not tattooed arms or a dopey bunny looking face you see, instead a pair of smiling almond shaped eyes stare down at you, their owner a very familiar reddish brunette.

“Hoseok!” you cry, leaping up only to hit your knee on the table. It throbs causing a sharp expletive to escape your lips. Embarrass you try to shake it off as if it never happened. Last thing you need is to make a fool of yourself in front of him. “Hi, I didn’t see you there.”

“I can tell.” he laughs gesturing towards your knee. “I didn’t mean to startle you, (Y/N). It’s just been ages since I last saw you.”

Your heart skips a beat. Nervously you tuck a strand of hair behind your ears in attempts to play cool. Logically you know you have no reason to get nervous, especially not when Hoseok ditched you at a restaurant after getting told you were a slut by Jungkook. Yet, for whatever reason that small high school girl who idolized him still remains inside you.

“Almost six years. “ You smile. “Time has sure flown by hasn’t it?”

“Maybe but you haven’t changed much.” Hoseok winks, causing your brows to furrow. Haven’t changed much? What was he talking about? Did he not see your clear evolution from loner geek into potential adult? “You’re still as pretty as you were back in high school.”

This time you are pretty sure your heart stops. It takes everything in your power not to gap like a wide-mouth fish out of water. Time seems to slow down in the small coffee shop as you work to come up with a response. Suddenly all the previous noises of chatter, whistling kettles and clanking plates become overwhelming rather than peaceful. Unfortunately even after being in a committed relationship for two years, your flirtation skills are still rusty. “You obviously need glasses then, because I looked like a hobo back then.”

You can slap yourself. Literally-actually slap yourself for that stupid ass comment. Thankfully Hoseok doesn’t seem to mind only laughing even harder than before. “Nah, you were the prettiest girl on campus. Everyone was just afraid of you, because Jimin and Jungkook always hung around you-speaking of which, I want to apologize for how I acted back then. I shouldn’t have ditched you over such a stupid thing like that.”

“Oh, it’s fine. Water under the bridge trust me.” you lie, ignoring the pang in your chest. Just remembering that day brings a new fire of hostility towards Jungkook. No matter how many years pass you still remember the day clearly. You were waiting for Hoseok at a local dinner, anxiously checking your phone for any messages or calls. A full hour passed with you insisting multiple times to the kind waitress that your date was arriving soon, however Hoseok never showed up.

You tried contacting him, worried that something terrible happened only to never get a response. Once home, you even bug Jimin who was friends with Hoseok then about the cheery boy, only to be brushed off. It’s not until you went to school the next day and confronted Hoseok in the hallway that you found out the truth. Jungkook let it loose that you were a slut and Hoseok being the knight in shining armor he was, fought him. They were equally matched with both of them garnering bruises and bumps because of it, but ultimately they were tied.

“Look (Y/N), you seem like a nice girl, ” Hoseok said, brushing you off. “And what Jungkook said about you being a slut probably isn’t true, but I really can’t handle all this drama between you two.”

That day your heart broke in two as dramatic as it sounds. Moreover from that moment you vowed to hate Jeon Jungkook for the rest of your life. “No, it’s really not and I might be overstepping my boundaries, but I would like another chance to get to know you.” Hoseok asks, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Okay. " the word slips through your lips before you even have a chance to think it over.

His face lights up and any doubt you once had shatters completely. People change, Jungkook did so maybe Hoseok matured too. Either way it wouldn't hurt to try again. "Great. It'll be fun, I promise. "

"I'm going to hold you to that Hoseok. " you tease. Inside you the giddiness grows, it feels as if you walked into some sort of dream or something. Didn't every girl dream of her high school crush finally realizing what a catch she is?

"You won't regret it." Hoseok swears. "Anyway I should let you get back to work, but first can I get your number?"

You rattle it off to him, doing your best to appear stoic, unfortunately the aching in your smiling cheeks suggests utter failure. Afterwards your students' work feels like less frustrating or maybe you're feeling a little generous seeing how Trisha totally bullshited her review yet you still gave a ⅘ on it. Whatever the reason you finish up faster than expected, leaving the cafe with an extra hour of free time. "Well if it isn't a princess set free from her tower!" Someone whistles.

Unlike earlier you have no issue distinguishing the playful voice of Jungkook. Turning towards the noise, you unsurprisingly find him propped up against his car in a cool uncaring fashion. His work clothes only help amplify the appearance; the black suit jacket paired perfectly with his white dress shirt and pants ensemble make him look like a Chaebol rather than plain Jungkook. All in all he looks absolutely mouth watering, but you'd die before ever admitting it. "If it isn't the ogre coming out of his swamp to play. " you tease, pinching his arm.

He chuckles, opening the passenger's door of his black Lexus. "I think you forget the ogre got his princess in the end. "

You wrinkle your nose in faux disgust. "Good luck, finding one. I don't know how many people can put up with your ugly mug. "

"Don't need to. I already captured you. " Jungkook replies, closing the car door.

You blink registering what he said. "That's the cheesiest line I've ever heard."

He shrugs slipping on a pair of faux Dolce and Gabbana sunglasses. Paired with the rest of his outfit, the glasses shattered the image of the rich Chaebol man. Their paint chipped arms and scratched off logo scream 'fake' and you wonder why Jungkook kept such hideous knock offs. "You should get rid of those. They make you look cheap. "

Jungkook scrunches his nose. "No way, they were a gift. "

"A gift purposefully bought from some shady street vendor, because my mother insisted I buy you a college graduation gift." You say, reaching out to grab them.

Naturally Jungkook only needs to lean away to thwart your efforts. "So? I like them. "

"You look like one of those wannabe entrepreneurs on Instagram. "

"How dare you! I have over five hundred followers, I'm legendary!"

"Did Jimin make five hundred accounts? Because he's the only who would follow your ass!" You say, attempting one more shot at retrieving those vile glasses.

Once more Jungkook merely tilts his head blocking your stubby little arms from reaching. "Whatever you say princess, we both know you're the one following my ass around here. "

"I'm following you? How laughable. I didn't know you were a comedian, Jungkook…" the two of you continue bantering the rest of the car ride home.

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

Author’s note: Special thanks to @dreamsfromthesandman for editing and putting up with my craziness even if she’s not army.

#bts #BTS jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #sunny writes #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook smut

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