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pretendingboyfriends · 4 years ago

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A/N: it’s finally finished!! after over a month!!! i’m so sorry this has taken so long but y’all know me, i’m terrible at time management and i’m mentally ill so nothing is ever consistent <3 BUT it’s here now and it’s finished and i hope u love it. thank you to @sunflowers-styles and @friendlyneighborhood-mendes for beta reading and giving me ideas for when i was stuck. i’m nothing without my betas <3

Warnings: explicit language & sexual tension

Word count: 6.5k+

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Your heart is racing in your chest with every lingering moment that passes as you watch Deidre finish getting ready for the day. Her plan is to spend the afternoon with Jeffrey and then the two of you would meet back up and have a movie night (plus Harry, if he’s up for it). And you, well, you have your own plans.

“Do you think this looks good?” She asks, spinning herself around in front of the vanity mirror in the corner of the bedroom.

You glance up from the book in your lap to see that she’s wearing a loose, white spaghetti strap dress that reaches just below her knee, pastel pink bikini peeking from beneath the fabric. You smile, “I think it looks great! What shoes are you wearing?”

She bends down to the floor, quickly grasping a pair of tan, strappy sandals. “These?”

“Yeah,” You nod. “Those are perfect.”

“Okay,” She smiles, leaning down to slide her feet into the sandals and strap them securely onto her feet before she grabs her tote bag from the bed with a sigh. “Okay, I’ll see you later! Meet back here at 5:00?”

You nod in confirmation, giving her a small smile and wave as she nearly skips through the bedroom door and down the hallway. As soon as she’s out of your sight you freeze, waiting for the familiar rumble of Jeffrey’s car to take off down the road with Deidre inside. Once the glorious sound kisses your ears, you’re leaping from the bed, frantically tearing the sweatshirt and sweatpants you’ve been wearing from your body to change into a tank top, loose-fitting jean shorts, and a pair of Doc Martens (bathing suit underneath, of course).

You’re brushing a few coats of mascara onto your eyelashes after taking a record breaking 2 minutes to change into your clothes and shoes when you sense his presence in the doorway.

“You look nice.”

You slide the applicator into the mascara container and screw the lid shut, turning your head to look at Harry as he leans against the doorframe with his hands behind his back. His hair is still slightly damp from his shower, framing his face and shoulders in thick, shiny curls. Your eyes travel south, dropping to his floral, short sleeve button up, unbuttoned partially to expose his inked chest and then flickering down to his skin tight, black jeans and tan chelsea boots. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

He smiles in response, dimples sinking into his blushing cheeks. “You ready to go?”

“Yep,” You sigh, grabbing your bag from the floor and walking towards the bedroom door. He allows you to pass him, following closely behind you through the house before tugging the front door open for you and beckoning you outside. The air is warm and humid as you make your way towards Harry’s car, the wind whipping against you gently.

Once you reach the car, Harry quickly beats you to the passenger side to open the door for you, flashing you a gorgeous smile as you slide into the seat. The expensive leather of the seat immediately sticks to your bare legs from the heat and humidity and you huff, lifting your legs to peel them from the material.

Harry slides himself into the driver’s seat, immediately cranking the car and fiddling with the air conditioner knobs to blast cool air into the stuffy, hot vehicle.

“So, where are we going?” You ask once he pulls onto the empty road lined with palm trees.

He keeps his eyes trained to the road, one hand on the wheel and the other on his jean-clad thigh. “I was thinking we could get coffee first and then I could take you to a bookstore I saw on my way in. But only if you’re okay with that,”

You smile to yourself, “I’m more than okay with that.”

A soft blanket of silence falls over both of you as Harry drives and you allow your gaze to wander his figure, from the god-like curve of his jaw to his perfectly chiseled hands. The sparkling glint of his rings in the noon sunlight catches your eye and you tilt your head slightly to get a better look at them. On his left index and middle finger are two silver rings, one with a rectangular, teal gem embedded into it, the other with a line of tiny dancing bears carved into the metal. Then, on the middle finger of his right hand, a lone silver ring with the word “peace” etched directly in the middle. They are simple pieces of jewelry, but enticing nonetheless.

Your mind wanders as your gaze does the same, falling to the curve of his plush, pink lips. It’s been a few days since you’d kissed him on the beach, tumbling into the sand like children, and you’re slightly embarrassed to admit that you haven’t stopped craving his lips since you parted ways that evening. The agreement you had made was to wait until after at least a few dates to kiss again (mainly to keep yourselves as contained as possible) but both of you are finding it increasingly hard as the time goes by. You just can’t seem to stay away from each other.

After a bit of light conversation and a 10 minute drive, you’re finally pulling into the parking lot of a little coffee shop named “Bikini Beans”.

You chuckle as Harry parks the car directly in front of the small building. “Quite the name, huh?”

He breathes a chuckle to himself. “It was the only coffee shop I could find within 30 miles of the beach house.”

You sigh sarcastically, “I guess it will suffice,” Harry shuts off the engine, pulling the keys from the ignition before jogging around to your side of the car to, of course, open the door for you. You smile at him as you step onto the pavement, tugging your bag from the floor of the car and slinging it over your shoulder. “Thanks.”

The two of you step into the quaint coffee shop, your senses immediately overwhelmed by the pungent odor of freshly brewed coffee mixed with a hint of sugary baked goods. Taking a moment to observe your surroundings, you find that the shop is nearly empty, save for the girl sitting in the back corner typing frantically at her laptop keys, brow furrowed, hair up, coffee cup empty. You follow Harry to the register where a young boy stands, waiting for the next customer to approach the counter, which just so happens to be you and Harry.

“Hi, welcome to Bikini Beans, how can I help you!” He smiles, placing his hands on the edge of the register as he looks up at you.

You smile back at him, shaking your head and motioning to Harry. “He can go first. I still need a moment to decide.”

He nods and looks at Harry. He clears his throat, “I’ll just have a small, iced black coffee,” The words roll off his accented tongue like a sugary glaze. “And a blueberry muffin.”

The boy takes a moment to type his order into the register and then looks up again, “Will that be all for you today?”

“That’s all for me, but make sure you include her order with mine.” He specifies, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet.

You smile to yourself as you peruse the menu, quietly mouthing the names of the different kinds of coffees and treats before deciding on what to get. “I’ll have a small cold brew with almond milk, sweetened with vanilla, please.”

“Is that all?” He quickly types your order into the register before glancing back up at you. You nod and he presses a few more buttons. “Alright, so I’ve got a small, iced black coffee; a blueberry muffin; and a small cold brew with almond milk and vanilla sweetener?” He looks back up at the two of you and both of you nod to confirm. “That’ll be $9.23.”

Harry – having already taken a few bills from his wallet – hands the boy a crisp $10 bill and then promptly shoves another $10 into the tip jar beside the register. The boy smiles and thanks him for his generosity as he gives Harry his change. Without hesitation, Harry drops the remaining coins into the tip jar, thanks the boy, and stands to the side to allow the people behind you to step up to the register and order.

“Trying to impress me?” You smirk, nudging your shoulder against his.

He smiles, “Not if you don’t want me to.”

You chuckle and shake your head as you follow him to the end of the counter where another barista quickly prepares your drinks, sliding Harry’s muffin towards him.

You turn to him,“I’ll go save us a table, okay?”

“Okay.” He smiles, watching you walk off towards the small table by the window, dropping your bag into the seat across from you to save it for him.

Within five minutes, Harry is walking towards you with both your drinks in one hand and the giant mountain of a muffin in the other.

“Was not expecting this muffin to be so big,” He chuckles as he hands you your bag and slides into the seat across from you. “You wanna split it?”

You take a sip of your coffee through the straw, the sudden grumbling of your stomach interrupting your train of thought. You hadn’t realized how hungry you are. “Oh, sure.”

He nods, slowly peeling the paper cupcake holder from the edges of the pastry before attempting to break it in half with his hands. “I guess that’ll do.” He chuckles at himself, dusting the crumbs from his fingers.

The silence that falls between the two of you is filled with nervous glances and flustered smiles as you sip your coffee between every few bites of the muffin. Your hands graze against each other occasionally when both of you reach for the muffin at the same time, causing breathless giggles to emit from the backs of your throats.

After a brief moment of silence, you drop your hand on the table in front of you with your palm facing up. “Give me your hand,”

“Quite demanding there, babe.” He chuckles, taking another sip of his coffee.

You roll your eyes at him, ignoring the flutter in your tummy that’s caused by the casual use of ‘babe’ in regards to you. “Just- I wanna look at your rings, so can you please give me your hand?”

He smiles, placing his large hand into your palm which allows you to lean forward and take a closer look at the rings adorning his long fingers. “Where’d you get them?” You ask as you gently brush your fingers against the cool metal.

“Mm,” He grunts, squinting his eyes in thought for a moment. “A few friends have gifted some to me, but I also bought some myself.”

You nod, humming in acknowledgement. “I would’ve never guessed when we were younger that you’d grow up to be a jewelry guy,”

He chuckles, “And why’s that?”

You drop your hand away from his, leaning back in your chair, “I don’t know. I mean, I thought you were cool, but I didn’t think you were really capable of being this type of cool, you know? I’d always known you as just ‘Harry’, my best friend’s kinda dorky older brother who’s also good at singing.”

“You thought I was cool?”

“Yeah, sorta. You were cool in the sense that you were always so kind and loving towards Deidre, even when you were trying to be annoying. But then you became famous and this whole new level of cool happened that made me kinda sad, if I’m being honest.” He frowns at that, sipping his coffee once more. “I mean, it wasn’t necessarily a bad type of cool, but it just made me realize that you weren’t just my best friend’s older brother anymore. You were Harry Styles, heartthrob of the century, everyone loved you and nearly everyone knew who you were all of the sudden.”

“Do you think I’ve changed a lot?” He asks after a brief pause.

“I thought you did for a while. I’d see tabloids about you every week talking about how much of a ‘lady’s man’ you were and who your newest ‘fling’ was and I didn’t know whether to believe them or not because from my perspective of you, you weren’t like that, but I also hadn’t seen you in quite a long time so I thought that maybe it was possible that you really did change that much.”

He shakes his head. “I hate how they’ve portrayed me. I hate that they’ve made me out to be some bloke who’s only in it for the money and the girls because it’s really not true. I especially hate that you’ve had to see me like that because I don’t ever want you to see me that way.”

You smile to yourself slightly, “Don’t worry, I don’t see you that way. Not anymore, at least.”

“Good,” He sighs, smiling shyly as he takes the last piece of muffin from the plate in between the two of you and pops it into his mouth.

“I do think you’ve got a bit of an attitude problem, though.” You hum sarcastically, watching his expression twist into feigned shock.

“An attitude problem??”

“Mhm,”

“I resent that.” He huffs, pressing back against his chair and crossing his arms over his chest.

“There it is!” You giggle, tilting your head to the side in a mocking manner.

Harry rolls his eyes playfully, holding back a smile as he stands, snatching his coffee cup from the table along with the plate where the remains of the muffin you’d just shared lie. “Come on, let’s go. I’ve got more planned for us.”

The soft jingle of a bell sounds as the two of you step into the small book store wedged between a consignment shop and a beach souvenir shop. The song “Yesterday and Today” by Yes plays quietly in the overhead speakers as the lone employee places new books on the shelves, humming along. She looks up from her place at the shelf and smiles at both of you shyly but doesn’t say a word when you smile back, opting to continue her restocking.

Your eyes flit around the small space that’s cramped with shelves, overflowing with books and you begin to wander aimlessly. Harry follows behind you quietly, watching as your fingers trace the spines of each book you pass.

“Do you read a lot?” He asks as you slide a paperback book from its home on the shelf just slightly above your height.

“I try to,” You hum in response, gazing down at the open book in your hands. “But it’s difficult most of the time.”

He nods, “I understand,” He watches your fingers sift through the delicate pages of the book, the bold, typewriter text of each page, melting into each other to form a jumbled cloud of letters. “What book is that?” He asks, stepping closer to you to get a better look at it.

“The Philosophy of Andy Warhol,” You smile, glancing up at him as you flip the book over to its cover, displaying the iconic red and white soup can design.

His eyebrows raise in surprise, “Andy Warhol? Really? Wasn’t he a terrible person?”

You chuckle, “Yeah, he was the worst, but he’s dead now and I like to think we can separate the art from the artist, don’t you?”

“I guess so...” He nods in response, shrugging slightly. “I’m assuming you’ve read this, then?”

You shake your head, “Not fully, just bits and pieces. I can’t really afford to buy books for pleasure at the moment.”

He frowns to himself at that but doesn’t say anything else, just watches as you place the book back onto its home on the shelf and begin to step further into the depths of bookshelves. Harry doesn’t move from where he’s standing, though, he watches you step further away before he takes the book you had just showed him from the shelf and casually holds it behind his back as he steps closer to where you are.

He follows you around the shop as you slowly and silently observe various different books, occasionally expressing your desire to read them after flipping through each crisp page. And, again, with each book you touch, he takes them from the shelves and collects them in his arms without a single word, hoping and praying that you stay distracted enough to not notice the growing pile of books in his arms.

Finally, the two of you have made your way through the entire store and are now standing near the register as you bury your nose into another book. Harry mumbles something to you about buying a book that he wants and you barely even acknowledge him, too engrossed in the words that flow across the pages. It isn’t until he’s back by your side that you finally lift your head to look at him, finding his dimpled, mischievous smile reflecting back at you.

“Ready to go?” He asks, eyebrows lifting in question.

You look up at him with a smile and a nod, closing the book in your hands and placing it back in its home, completely unaware of the paper bag he’s holding behind him. He leads you out to his car, subtly tossing the bag into the back of his car without you noticing before sliding into the driver’s seat and taking both of you to your next destination.

Eventually, you find yourselves on the beach, sitting comfortably on a blanket Harry provided along with a few containers of food from a local restaurant. There’s a decent amount of people walking around you, yet no one seems to notice Harry. Too caught up in their own vacations to notice the literal celebrity in their midst. You aren’t complaining, though, because after a few girls approached him with a request for a photo and a hug, you’ve started to grow a little jealous. But Harry doesn’t need to know that.

“How far d’you think I’d have to swim until my feet can’t reach the bottom?”

You turn your head to him as you stab your plastic fork into a particularly juicy piece of orange chicken. “Mmm, I’d say about-” You glare out at the people in the water, holding your hand over your eyes to shield them from the sun, “five feet past that guy in the lime green shirt.”

He turns his head to look at where you’re referring to and tilts his head to the side. “I think it’d be a little further than that, I’m pretty tall.”

You shove the piece of chicken into your mouth as you continue to stare out into the water and shrug. “The only way to really find out is if we go out there,”

He turns his face back to yours, “Let’s go, then.”

Immediately you drop your fork onto the blanket, frantically tearing your tank top from your body as you stand and begin to unbutton your shorts. “Race ya.” You breathe through a grunt, kicking your shorts off of your bare feet and legs to reveal your black bikini. He scrambles to his feet at that, nearly ripping his shirt from his body, but you’re already taking off in a sprint towards the water.

Harry is quick to catch up with you after a brief moment of struggling with his jeans to reveal his tiny, yellow swim shorts. He tackles you into the water, quickly wrapping his arms around your waist and taking the both of you under in one giant splash.

“Asshole!” You screech through a giggle once you resurface, swatting at his bare chest as he cackles. You turn around with a huff, trudging forward through the water with Harry hot on your tail.

“Hey!” He calls after you, nearly hopping through the water to catch up with you. “Hop on my back, it’ll be easier.”

You smirk, turning to face him as he stands almost waist deep in the water. He crouches down to allow you easier access to wrap your arms around his shoulders and you roll your eyes at him, giving in to his persuasions nonetheless.

Once your legs and arms are wrapped around his waist and shoulders, he stands fully and starts walking forward again. The feeling of your warm breath against his neck causes goosebumps to litter his bare, wet skin and he tries in vain to ignore the feeling of your breasts pressed directly against his back.

“Feet still touching the bottom?” You ask, leaning your chin against his shoulder. It comes out much shakier than you’d intended, breathed directly into his ear and you can feel Harry shutter beneath you.

“Uh- yeah, yeah, but it’s starting to get a bit deeper.”

At this point, you couldn’t care less about the bet you’d made with him, too distracted by the warmth of his muscular back against your embarrassingly sensitive nipples. You can tell he’s partially lost interest as well, judging by the way he grips your thighs tightly as he wades further into the water.

You’ve passed the man in the lime green shirt by now, the water slowly inching up to his shoulders which indicates your possible victory. But suddenly, he takes one more step and the water is at your own shoulders and nearly over Harry’s head completely. He’s sputtering dramatically as he stumbles backwards, finding his footing once again.

“There’s a fuckin’ drop off!” He growls, bringing his hand up to wipe the salty water from his eyes.

You’re giggling uncontrollably as he coughs and grunts, hands leaving your thighs so that he can push his hair out of his face. You slide off of his shoulders and onto the sand beneath the water, cackling to yourself at his grumpy frown.

You smile up at him. “I win.”

He frowns, “Well, that’s not fair! How was I supposed to know there’s a drop off?”

“Doesn’t matter,” You tease, drawing out your words as you turn back to the shore. “I still won!”

He grumbles to himself, turning to follow you. You glance back at him, chuckling at his creased brow and arms crossed over his bare chest with his bottom lip protruding into a pout. “Still don’t think it’s fair,” He huffs in frustration.

“Okay, well, if you really want a way to redeem yourself,” You start, turning back to him and waiting for him to catch up to where you are. “Race me back to shore.”

His frown melts into a devious smile. “Oh, you’re on.”

Immediately, both of you are diving into the water head first, swimming as fast as you can until the water is shallow enough for the two of you to stand and bound through the water that splashes around you. Luckily, Harry’s not much of a swimmer so you’re automatically a few feet ahead of him once you start running and before you know it, you’re crashing into the towel the two of you had laid out earlier, sand kicking up in clouds all around you.

“And she wins once again!!” You cheer, sprawling out on the towel as he trudges towards you in defeat.

It’s nearing 4:00 pm once the two of you return back home, stumbling through the doorway giggling and playfully nudging each other with your elbows.

“I’m gonna go take a shower before Deidre gets home,” You sigh, tossing your bag on the couch and turning to saunter towards the bathroom. Harry catches you by your hand before you can walk away, though, tugging you back to him gently. The suddenness of it nearly knocks the breath out of you as he pulls you into him, one hand coming up to cup the side of your face.

“I had a really good time today,” He hums, eyes flickering between yours and your lips.

You take a deep breath, taking a moment to glance down at his lips before speaking. “Me too.”

“S’it alright if I kiss you?”

“Yeah,” You breathe, taking another small step forward so that your chests are pressed together.

He smiles at that, leaning in and slowly capturing your lips between his own. His other hand finds its place at the base of your spine, holding you against him as your arms wrap around his shoulders.

The kiss is slow and gentle, his lips suckling yours ever so softly with each tilt of his head. Small, labored puffs of air leave your nose as you stand pressed against each other, each kiss building the fire within you.

Finally, Harry pulls away, breathlessly grinning down at you and gently brushing his thumb along the skin of your cheek. You smile back, taking a long, shaky breath in an attempt to regain your thoughts before leaning in once more.

He meets you halfway, tugging you into him again with a surging passion as he presses his lips to yours. He starts walking forward towards the wall, causing you to trip on your own feet a few times before he has you pressed firmly against it, knee wedged between your bare thighs.

“Wanted to kiss you all afternoon,” He breathes between kisses, fingers digging into the supple flesh of your hips.

You whimper quietly. “Why didn’t you?”

“Didn’t know if you wanted me to,”

“I always want you to kiss me,”

He pauses at that, pulling away to look at you with a smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” You nod, biting back a smile. “Haven’t stopped thinking about the other day on the beach.”

“Me neither.” He huffs, lunging forward to capture your lips again.

He kisses you for just a moment longer, both hands cupping your cheeks gently as your own hands grasp his wrists. Then, he stops, slowly allowing his lips to part from yours and stepping away from you with a smirk.

“Don’t take too long in the shower, I wanna take one too.” He winks.

You watch him walk away after that, acting as if nothing had just happened as he disappears down the hallway. You’re breathlessly leaning against the wall, mustering every bit of strength inside of you to push yourself off of it and walk on wobbly legs to the bathroom.

What the fuck?

It takes nearly everything inside of you not to scratch the proverbial itch of desire whilst your hands wander your naked form, but you only intended on taking a quick shower and you don’t want to raise any suspicions. So, reluctantly, you rinse yourself off beneath the steady stream of hot water before turning off the faucet and stepping out of the shower to perform your skincare routine.

Soon, you’re scurrying into your bedroom with a towel wrapped tightly around your body, calling: “Shower’s open!” to Harry before slamming the door shut.

As you’re pulling an old t-shirt on, you notice a brown paper bag sitting on your bed and you frown, reaching into it. It’s filled with books. A smile brims at the corners of your lips as you take each book from the bag. Every single one of them is a book you’d talked about wanting when the two of you had walked through the bookstore earlier and you can’t help but feel a small tug at your heart at the prospect of Harry actually listening to your ramblings and taking note of all the books you’d talked about wanting.

You tuck the bag away with your things before tugging a pair of sweatpants on and stepping out into the hallway. You find yourself wandering into the kitchen, swinging the fridge open and grabbing a soda from the shelf before swinging it back closed. Just as you crack open the can of soda, the door opens and in waltzes Deidre, tossing her bag to the side.

“Shit- Is the shower open? Really need one,” She says to you, running her fingers through her damp hair with a huff. Her dress is thrown over her figure haphazardly, damp from the wet bathing suit beneath it, indicating that she must’ve just returned from the pool or beach.

“Harry’s in there right now, but I’m sure he’ll be done soon,” You shrug, taking a sip from the can of soda. “Did you have a good time?”

“I had an amazing time,” She smirks as she tugs her sandals off and lets them tumble onto the floor. “I’ll explain everything later, though.”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “Oh?”

She wiggles her own eyebrows suggestively, snickering with a devilish smile before disappearing into the hallway. You saunter over to the couch, taking a moment to grab the TV remote before collapsing into the cushions with your legs tucked beneath you.

The steady stream of the shower comes to a nearly screeching halt and 5 minutes pass before the door to the bathroom swings open and out comes Harry, soaking wet with nothing but a towel wrapped loosely around his waist.

“Y’lookin’ for a movie to watch?” He asks, fingers gliding through his sopping curls as he stands in the doorway.

“Uh-” You swallow the lump in your throat, trying in vain not to let your eyes wander to the loose edge of his towel. “Yeah. Got any requests?”

He shrugs, “I love a good Rom-Com, but I really don’t mind anything.”

You nod, “Alright, I’ll keep that in mind.”

You watch as he steps into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him quietly and leaving you alone in the living room. Moments later, Deidre bounds out of your shared bedroom and into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her with a snorted giggle.

Scrolling through Netflix on the TV, you land on the Rom-Com section, taking a moment to look through it. Harry’s door swings open and he walks through, towelling off his long, wet hair as he saunters into the living room. He’s wearing a tight, black t-shirt and a loose pair of shorts that allow his tiger tattoo to peek through ever so slightly.

“Find anything yet?” He asks, wrapping the towel around his neck before plopping himself down on the couch beside you.

You shake your head, glancing in his direction briefly before continuing to click through the limited options. The smell of his shampoo wafts into your direction and immediately you’re overwhelmed with the urge to tackle him on the spot, smothering him with your own mouth against his. His presence brings an animalistic side out of you and it takes everything in you not to give in, especially with the way he’d kissed you only just an hour before.

“You alright?” He interrupts your lustful train of thought, nudging his shoulder against yours.

You clear your throat quietly, shaking your head a little. “Uh- yeah, sorry. Got distracted,”

He smirks to himself, staring straight ahead to hide his tickled expression. “You gonna choose a movie or am I gonna have to take that remote from you and do it myself?”

You whip your head in his direction, gaping at him as a smile tugs at the corners of your lips. “I’d like to see you try.”

He giggles and lunges forward, grasping for the remote in your hand but you move quickly, yanking your hand back behind you as you scramble to the edge of the couch. You giggle obnoxiously, kicking your feet at him to keep him as far away from you as you can, but his reflexes are just as quick as yours and soon he’s grasping one of your ankles to allow him just enough leverage to tackle you.

“Harry!” You squeal as he shoves his arms beneath you in search of the remote in your hand. He chortles down at you with a devilish smile when his nimble fingers find your wrist. Immediately, you tear your arm away from his fingers, throwing it above your head with the remote grasped tightly between your fingers.

“Fuck- you’re fast,” He grunts, taking a moment to shake his head in defeat. His tone and words prick a familiar nerve within you and you restrain yourself from squeezing your thighs together, bottom lip slipped firmly between your teeth.

“That’s what she said,” You retort, snorting loudly at your own joke. He rolls his eyes, pushing himself up more so that he can reach your hand, but you outsmart him once again, kneeing him in the hip and causing him to topple off of the couch and onto the carpeted floor.

“Fuck’s sake, babe. M’gonna be black and blue by the end of this,” He groans, sitting up as he rubs his elbow with a pout on his lips.

You roll your eyes at him. “Oh, please, I was barely even trying,” You allow yourself to relax back against the couch, scrolling through the movie options once again as Harry lifts himself from the floor but before you can even process what’s happening he’s swiftly yanking the remote from your hand and plopping himself beside you. “Asshole!” You gasp, reaching back for it frantically.

He’s chuckling devilishly under his breath, holding his long arm away from you and moving it every way you reach. “Gonna have to try harder then, I guess,”

You clamber over him, both knees landing on either side of his legs as your fingers grasp the remote over his hand. The compromising position the two of you are in is admittedly the last thing on your mind as you scramble for the remote, but when his free hand falls to your waist, gripping you gently, a breath catches in your throat and you pause. You make eye contact with him, your faces merely inches apart and suddenly the remote doesn’t really matter anymore.

He smiles a little, licking his lips when his eyes flicker to yours. The hand holding the remote falls onto the armrest of the couch, causing yours to fall with it.

“Are you gonna kiss me or just keep staring at my lips?” You mutter, bringing your hand up to the side of his neck.

“Gonna let me have the remote if I do?”

“Fuck the remote.” You grunt before charging forward, lips colliding with his in a searing kiss.

His arms are quick to circle your waist, pulling you flush against his chest as you hold his face between your hands, lips moving together in a symphony of uncoordinated movements. One of your hands slides down to grip his t-shirt, desperate to have him as close as possible and then suddenly, the bathroom door swings open and you’re sent leaping off of Harry, scrambling to the other end of the couch.

Both of you are breathless and flustered as Deidre walks in, whistling to herself and completely oblivious to the way you and Harry are practically shivering at each corner of the couch.

“Did you guys pick a movie yet?”

You clear your throat before sighing shakily. “Uh- no, not yet,”

“Jeez,” she scoffs, “been in the shower for at least 10 minutes what the fuck have you lot been up to?”

Heat crawls along the apples of your cheeks and you glance in Harry’s direction with a panicked look on your face. He’s flushed bright red, giving you a sheepish smile before you turn away again. Luckily, Deidre has wandered into the kitchen making herself a snack of some sort, oblivious to the way you two are looking at each other, flustered and slightly shaken by what she’d interrupted.

“I’m really in the mood to watch The Notebook,” Deidre calls from the kitchen, popping her head through the opening and raising her eyebrows at the two of you in question.

Harry shrugs, “I’m down,”

“Yeah, same,” You agree, clearing your throat awkwardly as you tuck your legs beneath you. Both you and Harry are suppressing sheepish grins, barely glancing at each other out of the corners of your eyes.

“The Notebook it is, then.” He concludes, clicking through the Netflix menu to find it.

When Deidre returns to the living room, she comes bearing a bag of microwave popcorn, a bag of cheetos, and three cans of soda (per Harry’s request). Of course, with your luck, she decides to plop herself between the two of you, leaving you and Harry to give each other subtle looks of distaste from across the couch. And, once the movie starts, you’re forced to act as if you hadn’t just been making out with your best friend’s older brother right on this very couch.

The movie goes by fast since it’s nearly your 4th time watching it, and for the entire 2 hour film you’re forced to sit across the length of the couch from Harry when all you want to do is cuddle into his side. A few spare glances are shared throughout the time and judging by the way his eyebrows lift, his feelings are similar to yours. Nevertheless, you persevere through the movie until the credits are rolling and tears are streaming down your face.

“You guys are seriously crying? I know you’ve both seen this movie more than once,” Deidre scoffs at both you and Harry as she turns the TV off.

“How are you not crying?” You sniffle, wiping the moisture from underneath your eyes with your hands. You glance in Harry’s direction to see the tears welling up in his eyes as he stares at her in disgust.

She looks at him and rolls her eyes. “Oh, fuck off, you’re both just big babies,” She stands from the couch, yanking the empty popcorn bag from the coffee table in front of the couch, huffing, “I’m going to bed. You two are ridiculous.”

You watch as she walks to the kitchen, chuckling to herself before you turn back to Harry who’s laughing through his own tears.

“We are pretty pathetic,” He snickers, pushing his hair out of his face and shaking his head.

“No,” You huff. “We just aren’t heartless like she is.” You stand from the couch, crossing your arms over your chest and sauntering down the hallway to your bedroom.

You find yourself getting ready for bed, brushing your teeth and performing your nightly routines just as you would every night. This time, however, the only thing on your mind is Harry. The way his hands held you so gently, lips drawing kiss after kiss from your own effortlessly as if he’d memorized every little thing that makes you shiver. The way he says your name when he speaks to you and maintains eye contact throughout every conversation, making it apparent to you that he’s listening to every word that leaves your lips. He actually cares about what you’re telling him and he speaks to you in such an attentive, selfless way. He makes you feel like you’re the only person he’s ever wanted to talk to. And, as much as you haven’t wanted to admit it to yourself, you’re beginning to think that this is more than just a crush.

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pa-panda-heroes · 4 years ago

Note

Is it alright to request Bakugo, Todoroki, & Kirishima finding out that their usually well put together s/o secretly smokes (only to cope with stressful stuff like a rough home life) but now that she’s with them she tries to quit but then a bad mission happens & they walk in as she’s shakily holding a cig? Happy ending pls. Sorry if it’s complicated recovery isn’t linear & ive been feeling bad just thinking abt going back to it.

Sweetheart, please don’t apologize! I understand, okay? No judgements whatsoever. I’m really sorry you’ve not been feeling well, but keep fighting, love. You can do it!! You got this!! I’m so proud of you for taking this giant step for your health <3 and so are the boys :> I put it under a cut because it’s long ^^

Katsuki, Shouto, and Eijirou with a s/o who’s trying to quit smoking (Scenarios)

Warning: slight mentions of relapse, smoking

Katsuki:

He knew. He knew you’d had a particularly bad day handling an awful situation - the kind of job any hero (maybe even Katsuki himself) would pass off onto a rookie so as to avoid having to deal with it. He knew you’d been trying your hardest to quit smoking. He knew you only picked it up as a way to cope. He knew it was hard. He knew it all. He was right there with you.

Yet it didn’t break his heart any less when he got home from his own hero shift to see you trembling and holding your head with both hands, an unlit cigarette nestled between your shaky fingers. A lighter lay on the coffee table in front of you, seemingly forgotten but not really. Your sniffling was loud, and it pained Katsuki to hear it, as if with each sniffle the hand around his heart squeezed tighter and tighter.

“Y/n.” He doesn’t say or do much else, and neither do you. It’s quiet, save for your sniffling and occasional hiccups. Katsuki sighs, not out of frustration, not out of pity, and certainly not out of anger. Well, maybe there was a hint of anger, but it was not aimed at you. It was aimed at whosoever pushed the put-together, organized you to this habit which was giving you a run for its money. Quietly, he moves to sit next your trembling form, wrapped in the plush blanket you got him for his birthday last year. It smelled like him. No smoke, no ashes. Him.

“Just take deep breaths,” he says quietly, afraid to spook you, as he slowly brings up his arm to wrap around your shoulders and bring you close. You’re rigid. Stiff. And so unlike yourself. “Don’t feel bad, y/n. Stuff like this... it’s hard. There’s no such thing as perfection when it comes to recovery. No one gets it right on the first try.” It’s hard, rewiring your brain not to crave a certain substance, or anything else, really. Katsuki hasn’t dealt with this firsthand, but as a hero he’s seen enough to know no one gets it right on the first try; sometimes people slip up.

“People slip up. And that’s fine,” he continued softly. “They just need to push themselves back up and fight back even harder. I’m so fucking proud of you, alright? And you - you’re tough as hell, you know that?” He stops, as if to gauge your reaction. And react you do. You bury your head in his chest, dropping your hands to your lap without a word. Saying something is too much right now. The cigarette is still between your fingers, but Katsuki gently takes it from you and tosses it onto the table.

“Maybe you don’t realize it, but you are.” Katsuki pats your shoulder furthest from him, leaning down to whisper at you. “You’d have to be, to put up with me and my bullshit,” he jokes with a pinch to your cheek, and finally you chuckle with a wee grin. “No, seriously! I always leave the toilet seat up, I scream at the TV, I never put my laundry right into the hamper, and I always forget to wash dishes... I’m kinda hard to live with.”

“You also kick in your sleep,” you quip with a giggle, voice tiny and meek yet full of love and spunk.

“Ah hell, do I? See, the list goes on and on.”

You shake your head wistfully, your grin growing by the second, but then it leaves you for something sweeter, something quieter. “Thank you for helping me quit, Katsuki.” The gentle lilt in your voice is music to his ears, though he wouldn’t outright admit it.

He huffs at you playfully. “Aw, shaddup. With everything you put up with from me, I’d say we’re even.” He almost seems bashful at your thanking him. Maybe he is.

“No, not quite. You also walk around naked at the worst possible times.”

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry.”

You turn to look up at him, eyes gleaming - and not from tears. “My friend really didn’t need to see you walking around in your All Might boxers.”

He shrugs it off. “She should’ve knocked. And you shouldn’t have bought them as a gag gift, babe.” Katsuki flicks your nose gently, leaving you to you wrinkle it and recoil from him.

“Jerk!”

Shouto:

Damn paperwork.

His back hurt, his eyes burned, and his wrist was currently cramping.

Yet it was better than everything you dealt with on patrol earlier. He wasn’t sure how you made it back in one piece like you did.

With a yawn he decided that’s it, a break is most certainly due. So he’d go looking for you, maybe even just five minutes together would make him a new man. But he couldn’t find you. Oh. Shouto wasn’t panicked by any means, but he was in a hurry to find you. He knew if even after one relapse, no matter how short-lived, you would beat yourself up about it better than you do villains. Even if there was no need to. Relapse happens sometimes.

Finally, he found you in the alleyway behind the agency. And he found the cigarette. It was lit, snug between your lips and slowly developing ash. Your hand was so shaky, Shouto was worried something was medically wrong for a second before he realized himself. He called out to you, a hand reached out as he approached. You jumped in your skin, head jerking his way, one lone tear trail on your cheek. “Y/n, please put that out.”

You wipe your nose with the back of your hand unceremoniously, but it didn’t bother him. “I’m sorry,” you breathe. “It’s just- it’s hard. I feel like I’m trying to put myself back together, but I’m missing a piece. Does that make sense?”

Shouto looks at you gently. “It doesn’t matter if it makes sense to me,” he says clearly. “As long as you understand it and talk about what you’re feeling, I’m happy. Why don’t you tell me more about what you’re feeling right now? It helped last time.”

“Overwhelmed. I’m overwhelmed as fuck.” You suck in a breath and bring your fingers to your lips to pick at them rather than take a drag.

“There’s nothing wrong with that. Being a hero is hard work.” He’s being supportive. He understands; he’s a hero, too.

“With everything at home when I started... and being a hero...” your voice breaks, “pushing one down for the sake of the other and trying to hold myself together and quit... it sucks, Shouto.”

Your love’s eyebrows pull upward with worry. “I’m sorry, love. You always do your best, you do so well.”

You glance at him with tears in your eyes before dropping the cigarette to the ground and stomping it out with a drawn out sigh. That... actually felt nice. It hurt, too, but it was nice.

“I know I’ve said this before, but I want you to talk to me when you’re craving, okay?” Shouto’s hands grab yours, thumbs rubbing the back of your hand soothingly and slowly. “It doesn’t matter where I am or what I’m doing. I want you to talk to me. I want to help.”

You nod quickly, unable to form words as tears well up and your lips fight against you to grimace. You wipe at your eyes with your free hand, sniffling all the while. You choke out a quiet “thank you,” and swallow thickly, only for Shouto to lean toward you and plant a kiss to your forehead before pulling you in for a warm hug in the cool alley.

“Dont thank me,” he whispers, squeezing you tight for emphasis. “It’s only natural I want to help you. I love you. All of you. No matter what.”

You nestle your cheek to his shoulder. “Even if I fuck up?”

“Are you kidding? Of course, y/n. I’ll always be so proud of you for fighting on.”

Eijirou:

“Hey, y/n-“

You blink at him, cigarette between your lips and lighter in your shaky hand. Your eyes are puffy and your cheeks are red. The flame of the lighter licked the cigarette but did not light it, and then suddenly died out as you pulled your thumb off the plate below the wheel. You reached up and closed the window of the bathroom before sitting back down on the side of the tub with your hands in your lap. “Please don’t be mad...”

The grin he wore just before he saw the cigarette faded. “Hey, I’m not mad.”

“I had a really bad day and... I dunno.” You looked down at your hands and the lighter and cigarette within them. “I just needed one. Just one. To deal with it.”

“But...” He hesitated, worried he’d come off too chiding. “Remember? ‘Just one’ turns into two, then three...”

You nod. “I know, I know, but...” Your sniffle hits his ears and it’s hard to hear.

“I’m not mad, or trying to be mean... I’m just worried.” Eijirou scratches the back of his head almost awkwardly. “Why don’t we go for a walk, yeah? Get some fresh air, too?”

You didn’t feel like it, but agree anyway. Eijirou doesn’t take you anywhere in particular, just walking and turning here and there when he felt like it, your hand in his all the while. You’re quiet the entire time, but he speaks enough for the both of you, talking about everything he sees or whatever a certain sight seems to remind him of. His hand squeezes yours every so often, as if to remind you that you don’t need to say anything, as long as you let him do this, let him distract you, let him help you - how ever you want to word it.

But suddenly he stops and turns to you, red eyes bright and gleaming. “Can I ask something selfish of you?” It’s sudden and unlike him to ask something like this.

You’re taken aback, but nod anyway.

“Any time you get the urge, any time you catch yourself reaching for a cigarette, will you promise me you’ll get out and take a walk?” Eijirou’s voice is quiet and soothing, yet you pick up concern. “Or just get up and walk around if you’d rather not go out. Please? Even if I’m not around...?”

You smile at him, his expression immediately relaxing upon seeing it. “Promise.”

“Good! I don’t know how well distraction would work, but maybe it’ll help.” He shrugs and continues walking again, pulling you with him. He had a point. Some fresh air did feel nice, and hearing the birds chirping as you walked by a small park was relaxing. That, mixed with the warm and kind hand of your lover, seemed to wash away the awful day you’d experienced. It was so soothing, you wondered why you hadn’t thought of this sooner.

With a sweet sigh, the tension in your shoulders dies downs an you relax, finally, for the first time in a while. This was Eijirou’s doing, certainly. This walk would only be half as pleasant without him, but you promised. Push comes to shove, you could go out for a coffee or snack break on your walk to keep yourself occupied.

“Hey, Eijirou.”

His hand squeezes yours before he turns to look at you. “Hm?”

“Thank you.”

He gives you a toothy, closed-eye grin. “O’ course, sweetheart!”

#mha #mha scenarios #mha x reader #bakugou x reader #todoroki x reader #kirishima x reader #bakugou katsuki #todoroki shouto #kirishima eijirou #take care lovely! 🖤🤍🖤#I hope you enjoy these!!

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yourdaddychan · 4 years ago

Text

the man with stars in his eyes

warnings : I think this has fluff, harassment, blood, terrible writing, blowjob, fingering, all that pizzaz, my girl here is such a lovesick dramatic person SMH THIS KID also she's so trusting

a/n : this is lowkey a soulmate au but like only lowkey- for my favorite- and the only ones I know- minho stans uwu accept this gift @nightshade-minho, @mini-meanhoe, @mikoto-ica-fics

word count : 3.5K [ dayum ]

___________

You hugged the dirty pole with all your might, trying to control your breathing. The train was lurching forward, as usual, courtesy of the drunk driver. Why was that even allowed? You rolled your eyes and let out a yelp as one hand flew from the pole. Hugging the pole again, you shut your eyes, hoping that the man behind you would leave at the next stop. The man had been harassing you for some time. It started with catcalling and whistling, then turned into him talking to you. It shouldn’t even be called talking. He was word-raping you. His mother should wipe his mouth out with soap. You dreaded using the train, but no matter how much you begged, your parents wouldn’t give you money for a car.

And so there you were, hugging the pole for dear life as the man holding on to the pole behind you stared at your ass openly.The train finally came to a stop, and you almost fell on the seat next to the old lady with gratefulness. Maybe you could finally sleep now. The old lady could protect you, right? Yeah, she had that umbrella next to her she was holding threateningly. In fear of the man, you were going with a wonderful hour of sleep. You knew it was stupid, but what could you do? He followed you everywhere, only to stop outside your apartment. Maybe if you close your eyes for just a second…

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹▫◃ ۪۪۫۫ ༄ؘ ˑ

You woke up with a jolt as you heard shouting. Looking around wildly, you try to decipher what was happening. Your bracelet was gone, now on the wrist of one of the men fighting. You suddenly became dizzy. Is that… blood? Drops of red liquid were on the floor of the vehicle, almost aesthetically placed. You stare where most of the shouting was taking place and make your way there. You clutch the pole again, trying not to throw up, making the stench worse. Finally lifting your head, you saw the fight going on. There he was.

A man with tattoos up his arms, throwing punches at the creepy old man. No way. The crowd’s reaction was the opposite of yours. Some didn’t even care, they probably saw this every day. Some were recording it, probably to show their friends later. You, on the other hand, were in awe. Where everyone else saw a tattooed criminal, you saw an angel who held the stars in his eyes. The tattooed man wipes his brow and smirks at you. Oh god. You blush and look away.

The creepy man runs off the bus at the next stop, along with your favorite bracelet, which he stole while you were sleeping. You sigh. What have I done to deserve this? You were a good kid, with good grades, and you always helped whenever you could. Somehow, you ended up with the worst luck. The tattooed man was a stroke of luck that you knew would leave.

The said man walks up to you, combing through his hair with one hand. He extends a hand to you, coyly looking at you up and down. “Hey, princess. I’m Minho.” He smirks down at you, as his extended hand shows off his muscles from his sleeveless tee. How did he look so effortlessly hot?

You blush harder than you did before. “Minho… such a pretty name! I’m Y/N!”

He hums. “How about I treat you to some lunch, princess?” He asks, examining your face for every detail of discomfort.

Your smile widens, and you nod enthusiastically. When the other man had called you darling, you had been filled with shivers of disgust. But this, this was different. When that name had left his lips, you had immediately been filled with warm pulses. Not only did it envelop your body, making you want more, but it also left heat that pooled in your lower half.

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹▫◃ ۪۪۫۫ ༄ؘ ˑ

You awkwardly held your menu in front of your tomato-red face as Minho continued to shamelessly smirk at you. So far, you had learned absolutely nothing about him, except he really liked cats, and that he ran a flower shop. All he would talk about were his cats, Sooni, Doongi, and Dori. Knowing absolutely nothing about cats, you just nodded along to whatever he said, admiring the shine in his eyes that brightened whenever he talked about his cats. You loved the way his muscles rippled, showing off the tattoos when he held the door open for you. You adored the way his veiny hands looked when they handed you a menu. Face it, you were whipped. The date hadn’t even finished, and the man had you in the palm of his hand.

“Y/N?” Minho’s soft voice immediately snaps you back to reality. Your eyes widen. All the man was doing was drinking water, and you were drooling over it. There was no way he was even real. Minho tilts his head, staring at you carefully. “You okay there, princess?”

Another nickname. Your subconscious noted as your brain flooded with thoughts, both pg13 and not.

“You don’t look so hot…” Minho commented, getting out of his chair and next to you, laying a soft hand on your heated face.

Did Minho just say I’m not hot? Then you realized. His side was now pressed to yours, meaning that his muscled arm was touching your arm. The back of his cool hand was held up to your forehead, making you warmer than ever. His plush lips were pouted in concern, and he was staring directly into your eyes. The eyes are supposed to be the window to the soul, and all you could do is hope that he wouldn’t immediately figure out what you were thinking about him.

"I should take you home or something." Minho continued to speak, but you weren't listening. All you could focus on was his hand on your forehead, and his torso pressed up against yours. Your forehead was burning up by the second. There was no way it was the flu since you had not got colds before. There was only one explanation, which sat in the form of the man in front of you. Lee Minho. "Y/N?" Oh god. Oh fuck. He had moved even closer, and you literally could not breathe. One more inch, just one tilt of his head, and... well, you would have kissed. Those pretty looking, luxurious lips would be on yours.

Finally, after what feels like a century, he moves away. You feel like a part of you was missing. He wasn't even touching you for that long, and yet you craved the warmth he providing. Ugh. Time to do something about it. You whined softly, slowly sliding back into Minho's warmth, unable to bear without it.

This time, Minho widened his eyes. You looked adorable in your warm hoodie, head leaning on his shoulder. He wasn't one for public affection, or affection at all (besides his cats), but he wanted to cuddle you and never let go. He lets a soft smile show, and then immediately stood up.

"Wh-what?" Startled, you raised both eyebrows questioningly.

"You have to go home. You're burning." Minho stubbornly crosses his arms, refusing to give in.

You sigh and take his offered hand. "Fine."

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹▫◃ ۪۪۫۫ ༄ؘ ˑ

You sit next to Minho in the car as he casually drives with one hand. There was something so unusual about him. He made you feel safe, unlike all the other boys you had dated. You didn't even properly know this man, but you were willing to get in the car with him, not once, but twice. You were even contemplating to keep on pretending to be sick so he would stay with you. It was a perfect plan.

Out of nowhere, he grinned, and produced a perfect rose and held it in front of you. “For my flower~” He smirked, and tucked it in your hair.

“Wh-what?” You blushed, wanting to turn into a turtle and vanish inside your hoodie.

He gave you another smirk, and turned his eyes to the road. “You look beautiful, darling. I thought I told you I worked in a flower shop?” He purred. You slouch down in your chair.

Once the two of you arrived at your house, you slumped in the seat and opened the door slowly. "Minho... I do think I'm sick..."

He worriedly looks at you, looking at you up and down. "Do you have any roommates? Or friends who are not busy?" You shake your head. "Then maybe I should stay... if that's alright with you?" His gorgeous eyes meet yours, and you dip your head down shyly in a nod. Your plan had worked.

You both enter the house, and he immediately lays you down on a couch, grabbing the nearest blanket and pillows to prop you up. Minho gives you a half-smile and gets to work. Filling up a bottle with warm water, he hands it to you. He takes more of your blankets and drapes it over you, lips twisting in seriousness.

You snuggle comfortably in the blankets, knowing that Minho would take care of you properly. He finally finishes what he was doing, and sits down next to you.

"Minho?" You ask in a sleepy voice, moving your head so it was resting on his lap. "Can you stay here?" You weren't even pretending at this point. You were so tired from everything you had to deal with, and Minho's thigh was so reassuring.

He looks down at you, soft hair somehow shining in the false light. "Of course, princess." He soothed, giving you a light pat on your hair.

You snuggle your face into his lap, closing your eyes and giving a small yawn. As you gradually start to drift off into the world of slumber, Minho moves his hand to your hair and starts stroking it absentmindedly as he stares at his phone, probably looking at the latest cat video.

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹▫◃ ۪۪۫۫ ༄ؘ ˑ

You wake up to Minho jolting in fear from a couple of pings from your phone. Giggling, you reach over to grab your phone. "Minho, chill."

He blushes, slightly embarrassed. "Oh... right... I knew that!" He scratches the back of his neck to play off what just happened.

"Ay, Y/N, I'm finally having that sleepover you guys have been pushing for, feel free to invite a plus one!" You read. It was from Chan, one of your best friends since the third grade. You had been friends ever since he hugged you when you broke his crayon. A plus one, he says? Well, you had the perfect plus one in mind. You look over to Minho, seeing him fluff up a pillow for no apparent reason besides distracting himself. Perfect.

"Hey, Minho? How would you like to go to a sleepover or something with me?" Minho looks over to you and grins.

"Sure! Details, please."

You spend the next few hours giving Minho a summary of all of your friends.

"And so that's why Jeongin screams like a dolphin!" You finish, excitedly looking at Minho for his reaction.

He bites back a grin and raises his eyebrow. "This explains a lot about you."

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹▫◃ ۪۪۫۫ ༄ؘ ˑ [ time skip to the sleepover ]

You step out of the car, armed with Minho in one hand and your stuffed animal, Bob, in the other. You ring the doorbell and bite your lip nervously. Will they even like Minho? What if he doesn't like them?

The door opens with Felix draped across the door frame. "Draw me like one of your French girls." He purrs seductively at you, making you giggle.

"Felix, what the actual fuck?" You push him away and enter the house, saluting Jisung before flopping on the couch next to him.

Jisung promptly puts an arm around you, taking your plushie. "This will make a nice addition to my stuffed animal HEADS." He screams the last part, holding his hands up maliciously. You snatch the animal back, sticking your tongue out at Jisung.

"I'm going to rip your squirrel's head off if you do that! And please, calm down, we have a newbie!" You gesture towards Minho, who's awkwardly standing there.

"Um..." He blinks, and steps in. "Hey, I'm Minho, Y/N's friend!" He smiles at everyone, but you don't return his smile. His friend? Yikes. Of course, you had to be the one to fall for the man who only thought of you as a friend.

Jisung hops off the couch and walks to Minho. Looking at him up and down, eyes narrowed, he finally breaks into one of his heart smiles. "Somehow, I feel like I'm going to like you."

Chan nods. "Yeah, welcome to the club."

Felix grins evilly, thinking of yet another Tik-Tok reference. "Welcome to the bread bank, we sell bread, we sell loaves. We got bread on the deck, bread on the floor." He ends with finger gunning a clueless Minho.

Seungmin cracks his knuckles and points to Minho. "But if you hurt her, you're doomed. We have a black belt in taekwondo, and a boxer."

Minho widens his eyes at the threat. "I wasn't planning to hurt her anytime." He rolls his eyes and walks over to you, hiding half of his body behind your frame.

Changbin rubs his hands together and stands up, planning to ease the tension. "Guys, you know how it is! A newcomer means we play truth or dare~" He smirks. "Alright, Minho. Let me get my truth or dare app out while we all sit in a circle, okay?" The boys obediently sit in a circle, motioning for you to sit next to Minho as Changbin gets his app out. "Okay..." He clicks the dare button and looks delighted at the dare. Turning it, he shows it to the circle. "Minho has to do 7 minutes of heaven with the person to the right of him!! And that means... Y/N?"

Changbin looks at you, silently asking if you were okay with it. Nodding, you stand up. "A dare is a dare, right?"

"Right." Minho stands up as well, clearing his throat, and takes your hand. "To the closet, I guess... ”

He brings you to the closet while the boys snicker behind you and continue their game.

You sigh. Of course, I had to be the one. They probably even planned this, the little shits. They had always been able to read your mind.

You enter the closet and shut the door behind you. You nervously look at Minho, who smirks at you. “These walls are pretty thick, so we can be as loud as needed.” He purrs, eyes hooded with lust.

You choke on air at his boldness. “Wh-what..” You don’t even finish before Minho makes his way towards you, moving his arm around your hip to provide support.

“Kitten, don’t make me tell you twice. Don’t you want to play with me?”

You whimper softly at his degrading word, already feeling your heat starting to pool. You move your lips to Minho’s plush ones. He runs his tongue over your lip and sucks your lower lip softly. Your teeth click together with Minho’s as you open your mouth for him.

“God, if you keep whimpering like that, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop myself,” Minho growls, biting his lip.

“Then don’t.” You whisper, not even comprehending how this is happening to you right now.

His face darkens with want, and he pushes you against the closet door, pinning your wrists above you. He removes your shirt and bra, pausing for a moment to admire your body. “What a good little doll, all for me. How about you suck on my fingers, hm? Get them nice and wet for me?”

You shut your eyes and nod, opening your mouth obediently. He pushes two fingers in, and you immediately suck on them, circling your tongue around his fingers. He groans softly.

“I want those pretty lips around my cock.” He removes his spit-coated fingers from your mouth and drags them along your now naked torso. “Kneel, now.”

You drop to your knees immediately, innocently looking up at Minho as he unbuckles his belt. You couldn’t believe this was happening. In the morning, you were terrified of going home, but here you were, about to suck someone’s dick. Well, he wasn’t exactly just a someone. He was an angel. A cat-loving angel. But right now, he looked like a demon, with his lust-filled eyes, and his pretty lips that were permanently in a smirk.

You blinked in shock as he removed his boxers. He was... big. You promptly wrapped your swollen lips around him, making eye contact with him. Minho swore as you flicked your tongue at his slit, and moved his hands to grab your hair. You moan softly as he continues to pull at your hair to make more vibrations envelop his length.

“You’re so tight, baby...” Giving up on self-control entirely, he thrusts into your throat, legs shaking as he finally cums in your mouth.

You lap all of it up, refusing to let a single drop spill, and look up at him again.

“Hey, guys? It’s been way more than 7 minutes!”

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹▫◃ ۪۪۫۫ ༄ؘ ˑ [ time skip ]

It’s been 1 month since Minho last contacted you. After the 7 minutes of heaven at Chan’s sleepover, he had awkwardly avoided you. On the way out, he had whispered something in Chan’s ear and left without a word to you. According to Chan, the two of them had been old high school classmates, and they didn’t even realize it until they talked. You assumed they had been keeping in touch with each other, as Chan kept on asking you random questions about Minho from time to time.

Yes, of course, you had liked Minho. Yes, of course, you thought he was boyfriend material. And no, the creepy old dude had never bothered you again once Minho had confronted him.

Without Minho, the days of the month seemed blurry. You felt as if you turned into a zombie, and your brain was all woozy. Even poor Jisung, who tried to cheer you up over and over again couldn’t do the job. Even though you had spent only three days together, you felt that the two of you had connected in some way. Your eyes light up by a noise coming from your phone. Could it be Minho? He had left his number in your sleeping bag, but never texted to you.

It was your lucky day. Minho’s DMS with you (that were currently nonexistent) were blowing up. ‘Okay, Chan.�� Wait, he thought you were Chan? Your eyebrows furrowed. Of course, he hadn’t meant to text you. As your thumbs hovered over the keyboard, another phrase caught your eye. ‘So, there’s this girl...’ Your face dropped. A girl, of course. The man was charismatic as fuck, there was no doubt that all the girls were falling for him. Including you.

Unable to hold yourself back, you quickly typed out the word, ‘Yeah?’ and sent it, biting your lip with anxiety. Curiosity killed the cat, Y/N.

‘She’s way out of my league, though.’ You rolled your eyes at that. Please. Way out his league? He was perfect. He was out of everyone’s league. ‘How do I ask her out?’ You sigh. You probably needed to give him proper advice, but the dark part of your heart wanted to see him fail, just so he would still be single.

‘Maybe just ask? I’m sure she’s dying to go with you.’ You toss yourself on the bed, shutting your eyes. You did the right thing, of course. But did I do the right thing for myself? You try to go to sleep, convinced that that’s the only way your brain will forget what just happened, but you’re interrupted by another pinging sound from your phone.

You sigh and sit up, grabbing your phone and opening it. What did Minho need now?

‘Wait...Y/N?’ You read out loud, heat spreading throughout your body as you read your name in his text.

‘That’s me.’ You admit.

‘Darling...” You exhaled slowly. Here it came. By now, Chan would have already told Minho that you liked him. No wonder he didn’t text you. Now that he realized that he was texting you, he would have to reject you. You inhaled again and prepared for the crushing defeat that was getting rejected.

‘You’re the person I was trying to ask out...’ You read slowly. Wait. What? You reread it three times, confused. There’s no way. You clear your throat, trying to sound normal while texting him.

‘Really?’ What a stupid thing to ask.

‘Really. Y/N, would you like to go out with me? I was planning for an entire month, and-’ You couldn’t read the rest. Your eyes started to blur with tears of happiness. The last time you were dizzy, it was because of blood on the floor. And now, the very man that put that blood on the floor had asked you out. The man that made you feel safe. Your angel. You were lost, but the man with stars in his eyes became your compass.

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹▫◃ ۪۪۫۫ ༄ؘ ˑ

#inkidz #staysmutblr #skzwriternet #skzsmutnetwork #stayhavennet #stray kids #stray kids scenarios #stray kids smut #skz smut #kpop smut #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #lee know #lee minho #leeknow #smut

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dekuscrybaby · 5 years ago

Text

starry nights

pairing: tsukishima kei x gn!reader

request: no, just felt soft for tsukki

word count: 2.5k+ words

warnings: fluff with barely any plot, a few curse words (?), unedited, maybe ooc tsukki, CHEESY AS HELL, the ending is booty bc i couldn’t find a way to end it

a/n: i wrote this as gender neutral as i could bc i’m a useless hetero so if something is not gn friendly pls let me know!

summary: who knew a stressful night could turn so soft with the help of a certain blonde?

after such a long day, there was nothing more you wanted than a nice relaxing evening before falling into a deep sleep.

the idea of finally getting home and showering after sweating at the boy’s volleyball practice, seeing as you were a manager, sounded amazing. what sounded even better was eating dinner and retiring to your room where you could listen to music in bed as you slowly feel yourself drift off into your dreams.

unfortunately, the only thing you received once you got home was a hard chair pressing uncomfortably into your bottom as you scribbled various formulas onto your notebook.

you were attempting to solve yet another dumb math problem that was assigned to you earlier that day, but you were finding that the results weren’t making any sense. they were far too large to be the correct answer. or were they too small?

you sighed frustratedly as your head began to pound and your butt was beginning to numb. you mentally reminded yourself to ask your parents for a comfier desk chair as soon as possible.

after another failed attempt at the stupid trigonometry problem in your textbook, you felt yourself begin to spiral. your muscles began to tense up and for some reason, your head felt like it was spinning, the pounding only getting stronger. the moment you found yourself struggling to breathe, you decided that it was time to take a break before things escalated any further.

you pushed yourself away from your desk to stretch for a little and to clear your head, hoping it’d be enough to finally let you solve the problem afterward. you might have also done it to get some blood flowing back in your ass, but that’s not the focus of this.

you paced around your room for a couple of minutes before you heard a slight buzzing sound in the room. halting your movement, you turned your head towards the sound and realized it was coming from your phone, which was lying in the middle of your bed.

walking over to your bed, you flopped yourself onto the soft mattress after taking your phone into your hands. upon realizing that your boyfriend was calling you, you clicked on the green accept call button and pressed the device to your ear.

“hey, what’s up?” you spoke as you made yourself comfortable on your bed, grabbing one of your stuffed animals and holding it close to your chest.

“why haven’t you replied to me?” tsukishima grumbles quietly.

“uhh, i did? i’m literally speaking with you, aren’t i?” you raised an eyebrow even if he couldn’t see it.

“i’m talking about my texts, dumbass. i sent you like ten in the last fifteen minutes,” he sighed.

you pulled your phone away and glanced at your notifications, which only proved your boyfriend’s statement to be true.

frowning slightly you turned your attention back to the call, “sorry, tsukki. i didn’t see your messages until right now.”

back in his own room, tsukishima could be found rolling his eyes at your lack of attention towards him. a quick glance at his alarm clock at his bedside had other worries streaming into his head.

“what are you doing that’s so important at this hour anyway?” the blonde questioned as he sat up on his own bed.

“homework, what else would i be doing?” you replied.

“i don’t know, maybe getting ready for bed? it’s almost ten pm, y/n. you need eight hours of sleep,” he scolded you.

“i know, i know. you remind me of that at least twice a week,” you grumbled halfheartedly.

tsukishima chuckled softly, knowing you were probably pouting at this point, “clearly i need to remind you more often since it’s not getting through your puny brain.”

the pout you wore grew even wider, just as tsukishima imagined it to, “hey, it’s not that puny!”

you could hear your boyfriend laugh a bit louder as you also say up on your bed, cradling the plush closer to your chest, “i don’t know, you come in pretty close to hinata and kageyama.”

“that’s far from the truth and you know it! we’re literally in the same class,” you huffed.

“that doesn’t mean much, sweetheart,” he teased you.

“fuck you,” you laughed softly.

“you wish,” he retorted playfully. “anyway, meet me at the park we pass by when i walk you home as soon as we get off the phone.”

“come again?” you questioned. not really believing what you were hearing, you got out of bed for some reason believing that being up would tell you your hearing was off.

“meet me at the park by your house,” he repeated.

“you want me to do what?” you asked once again, your mind not wrapping around the command just yet.

“last time i checked, you weren’t deaf. just trust me and meet me there.”

“tsukki, like you said earlier, it’s almost ten at night.” where was your boyfriend heading with this? he isn’t even the spontaneous type! so where was this going?

well, obviously the park but why?

“i’m aware, i can tell time, y/n.” tsukki rolled his eyes slightly.

“it’s also wednesday night, a weeknight,” you continued as you began to walk to your closet.

“i’m also cognizant of that as well. i own a calendar,” he replied.

“we have school tomorrow, kei. you remember that? school? the building we go to and learn in?” you mumbled, still not believing that your boyfriend wanted to meet up at such a late hour.

think about it, tsukishima is an incredibly intelligent boy. he’s probably one of the smartest kids you know. probably even one of the best students in general and he’s asking you to hang out on a school night? after he nags at you about studying for your classes and sleeping at reasonable hours?

even if he, himself, doesn’t sleep at reasonable hours, but he insists you do it at least.

something’s up.

“how many times do i have to tell you that i know what these things are?” he scoffed quietly.

“as many times as it takes for you to come to your senses,” you retaliated as you quickly grabbed one of the hoodies in your wardrobe, coincidentally it was one you stole from the blonde.

“you say that as if you’re not already getting ready to meet me there,” he teased you as he began to laugh quietly at how predictable you were to him.

“how are you so sure about that, four-eyes?” you replied as you slipped your head into the hoodie that was a few sizes too big.

“i’m sure for two reasons actually,” he began, the tone in his voice sounding extremely confident as he seemed to know you inside and out.

“one, i know that regardless of what situation you’re in, you don’t pass up on an opportunity to see me because you’re literally a lovesick puppy. two, i can hear rustling through the phone, and taking that first reason in mind, i’m going to safely assume that you’re grabbing a hoodie and some shoes so you can come out and meet me.”

“you know, i really do hate you sometimes. you’re a pain in the ass,” you spoke, voice slightly muffled by the hoodie covering your mouth slightly.

“yeah, yeah, but you know you love it. i’ll see you there,” he chuckled before hanging up on you, leaving you alone in your quiet bedroom, the scent of his cologne still lingering on the fabric that wrapped your body in a warm embrace.

once you broke out of your haze, you quietly maneuvered out of your bedroom, making way towards the front door. you slipped on your shoes once you got to the doorway and pulled the door open as quietly as possible, to avoid any unwanted confrontation with your parents, before slipping into the cool and quiet night.

hands intertwined in the hoodie’s pocket, you briskly walked towards the small park a few blocks away from your own house, impatient to see your boyfriend.

sure, you had seen him a few hours prior to this but you could never get enough time with the blonde. time spent with him always flew by and you found yourself craving his attention more and more as your time with him increased as well.

you knew the feeling was mutual, hence why you two were sneaking out to see each other. but still, seeing such a stoic, and a rather asshole-ish, person like tsukishima act so soft and vulnerable in your presence made you want to risk it all for him. a little scolding or tighter limitations on your freedoms for a few days were worth the time you’d spend with your lover.

glancing up at the sky as the park’s playground began approaching your field of vision, you noticed how clear tonight’s sky appeared to be. no cloud in sight, just miles, and miles of countless stars littering the dark night sky.

the perfect conditions from some stargazing, you smiled softly at the realization.

refocusing your eyes in front of you, you noticed a rather lanky figure sit on one of the swings, awkwardly shifting himself forward and backward.

“hey, stranger,” you piped up as you took a seat beside his own swing.

“funny seeing you here, hmm?” he turned to look at you, a teasing expression lying lazily upon his face as he briefly eyed your appearance. more than likely, noticing his hoodie engulfing your figure.

“yeah, extremely funny. so funny that you had to beg me to come out here.”

“yeah, i really begged for it. i felt as if i would die if i didn’t see you, almost got down on my knees.” he rolled his eyes playfully.

“well, you did have to ask me a handful of times before i agreed to come down. so, yeah, i’d like to think you begged for it,” you mimicked his actions. “just admit that you missed me, to make up for the fact that i snuck out of my house for you. after curfew, may i add on.”

“you act as if i didn’t sneak out of my own house, after curfew as well,” he retorted.

“would admitting that you missed me kill you?” you pouted, crossing your arms together.

“fine, fine. i missed you, okay? happy?” he said as he leaned towards your side, long fingers caressing your side which only made you squirm as it tickled.

you laughed softly before nodding and stretching an arm out in his direction, allowing him to link your pinkies together, a form of affection worth more than a kiss in your relationship.

“so what made you bring me out on a night like this? i was working on some real important trigonometry homework when you interrupted me, and let me mention once again that it’s a school night.”

tsukishima went back to swinging himself on the swing, his pinky being interlaced with yours caused you to begin to sway yourself on the swing as well.

“after i noticed that you didn’t reply to my messages, i figured that you’d gotten too wound up in your homework. i knew you could need a small break from it all and hearing how tense you sounded over the call, only confirmed it for me,” a small blush rose into his pale cheeks.

“you knew that i was starting to get stressed? tsukki,” your voice began to soften more. “you seriously knew that just by one phone call and a lack of replies?”

he scoffed quietly, attempting to look like he didn’t care but the rising heat appearing on his cheeks and ears told you otherwise, “don’t go making it sound like that, it was just obvious.”

you began to grin at the obvious timidness your boy was exuding, “so let me guess, you noticed i was feeling upset so you decided to help me clear my mind by spending some time with me.”

“tch, you wish.”

you moved your hand to properly interlace your entire hand with his own, squeezing it gently.

“that’s really sweet of you, kei. i appreciate it so much, it’s exactly what i needed,” you beamed under the moonlight, something tsukishima couldn’t help but find beautiful, his expression softening once again.

“this one trig problem was really getting to me. i was so relieved to hear my phone ring as it gave me an excuse to take a longer break, and it was an even greater relief when it was you who was calling.” as you were speaking, a slight breeze swept up and began to lightly run through your locks, which only caused tsukishima to continue admiring you.

“you know, you’re actually really cute, especially under this moonlight,” he said as he pulled your intertwined hands up to his lips, gently brushing his lips against your knuckles before pressing a soft kiss to the back of your hand.

“are you insinuating that you used to think i wasn’t cute?” you rose one of your eyebrows mischievously, wanting to fluster the unusually soft boy.

he sighed dramatically, letting go of your hand, “and you ruined it. i was trying to express my undying love for you and you just had to ruin the mood.”

“well don’t let that stop you, i’m still listening!” you attempted to salvage the soft moment as kei began to laugh before he rose from his swing, extending a hand to you.

“maybe i’ll give it another shot after we get a nicer view of the stars.” you could have sworn you saw a twinkle in his eyes when he said this, but nonetheless you stood up to take his hand.

hand-in-hand you both walked to the playground, getting on it and finding yourselves seated at the very top, the starry much clearer at the slightly elevated altitude.

not wanting to ruin the quiet atmosphere, you turned your head upwards, a small smile on your face as you raked your eyes through the endless clusters of stars.

as you continued to observe the space above you, tsukki turned his attention to focus on your delicate features making his smile reappear. there was just something about tonight that made you look so ethereal, he just couldn’t help but fall for you even harder.

“you okay?” you asked when you finally felt his stare on you.

“yeah, i just can’t take my eyes off you,” he breathed out, which led you to smile at him, your heartwarming at the sight of how in love he looked.

“you’re so cute, kei.” you leaned your body on his, your head finding a home on the space between his shoulder and neck.

tsukishima didn’t waste any time wrapping an arm around you, pulling you closer to him and placing a kiss on the crown of your head. in return you pressed a kiss to his lower jaw, your smile pressing against his skin.

with that, no more words were expressed. everything that needed to be said was done in your respective kisses but also the lovesick grins that you both wore for the remainder of that night.

your starry night with your own little moon pressed right against your body.

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saipng · 4 years ago

Text

me? write a frenrey one shot fanfic with them drunkenly playing truth or dare? it’s more likely than you think

Nights like these made it all worth it.

The lulling whir of the air conditioner kissed his flushed cheeks as the sound of dying laughter dissipated through the air. The noise of the streets outside the window and the quiet chatter of the TV filled the room instead, and the smell of home cooked food mixed with old cologne and alcohol seemed to cling to his very clothes. His eyes traced the long shadows cast in red, pink, and blue, painting the familiar scene in technicolors.

It was nights like these, Gordon thought, that made it all worth it.

Joshua was long asleep in his room, snuggled next to his favorite plush toy of a head crab that Bubby (lovingly) stitched together out of old scraps of clothing. Tommy arrived first, as was usual, tagging Sunkist along and letting her carry a bottle of wine between her teeth. Dr Coomer and Bubby came later, always together, always the same chorus of ‘Hello, Gordon!’s, always a big bright smile and a warm tingle in his heart. Darnold arrived late, later than he usually would if he were to come at all, but this time he brought his ‘strongest potions’ and Gordon was equal parts terrified and excited to try them out.

Benrey was already there by the time Gordon remembered him. He always simply appeared, but even that became routine at this point.

Gordon never invited any of them.

It was enough, he thought, that they would come over like this, with food and alcohol and maybe a DVD or a board game, and they would spend their time in peace and (relative) quiet. Having the company was enough.

Gordon smiled, sudden warmth spreading through his belly.

“Hey-Hey guys,”- He stuttered, trying to get up on his already slightly shaky feet, the attention of the room shifting towards him from the TV as The Science Team all turned their heads in unison.

“Woah- Um, okay. Creepy. Guys, do you wanna like- Hey guys, do you wanna play Truth or Dare?”

It wasn’t the first time they would be playing it, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Bubby, particularly competitive in, well, everything, immediately perked up.

“What, you itching to lose just like last time, you little bitch boy?”

“Okay, just because I refused to drink an entire glass of bleach doesnt mea-“

“Bitch boy!”

“Um, I would like to go first, Mr Freeman!”- Tommy piped up, having a surprising competitive streak in him too.

Truth or Dare, for most people, was a game of fun and embarrassment and messing around. For The Science Team, it was more like a battle for dominance and glory.

Most of their games were, actually. Gordon already lost 6 packs of Uno cards to fire, and Jenga is completely forbidden in his apartment for the foreseeable future. And god forbid he ever saw anyone with a box of Monopoly ever again.

Gordon took an uncertain step, steadying his feet as he raised his glass and nodded, -“Sure, Tommy. Truth or Dare?”

“Oh, and why do you get to ask,”- Bubby piped up, crossing his arms.

“Because I offered the game, alright? Now-“

“Truth or Dare, Tommy?”- Dr Coomer took over, and Tommy immediately replied with a resolute “Dare”.

“Fantastic choice, my young friend!”- The older man smiled, and then his face immediately turned to stone. Gordon swallowed, on the edge of his seat (still standing) at what might come next.

Dr Coomer was known for going to the extremes. His dares were either along the lines of “Do a chicken dance” or “Drink this glass of bleach” (which was exactly where Gordon drew the line last time). One time he dared Bubby to eat a pack of ramen raw, and the maniac actually did it.

Once Dr Coomer opened his mouth again, Gordon’s heart sank to his feet.

“I dare you to drink-“

“No! No more bleach drinking! That is banned forever, okay, it’s-“

“-An entire glass of Dr Darnold’s strongest potion!”

Gordon paused in his tracks. Suddenly, the bleach idea didn’t seem to be as bad.

He threw a quick glance at the man in question, who seemed to be perfectly beaming at the suggestion.

“Why, I do think my potions are way too strong for you, Tommy! The side effects can be unpredictable!”- He exclaimed, already reaching over the precariously shaped vial, -“Now, I will need you to have a bucket by your side and a pack of ice and maybe a pair of tweezers-“

“I will be fiiiiine,”- Tommy slurred, more determined than ever. He was not one to pass up a dare, no matter how insane it sounded. Gordon began to wonder whether he had any tweezers lying around, just in case.

In the next second, with an agility unbecoming of a man as drunk as he already was, Tommy threw back the glass and Gordon watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed at every resounding gulp. He couldn’t help his jaw clenching as the fiery burn resonated in his own throat at the sight, a shiver running down his spine, The feeling was something akin to watching a car crash, the horrifying fascination making his stomach turn when Tommy thumped the vial back on the table and wiped at his mouth with his sleeve.

He had to sit back down for this.

“go, tommyyyyyy!”- Benrey shouted from somewhere behind the couch, and for once, Gordon agreed wholeheartedly. At this point, he was pretty certain that Tommy was the most badass person he knew.

“Hoo! Yeah! Woo- Aw-Awright, z-zat- Eazy! Eazier zan... zan.....!”- Tommy blinked hard, his eyes clouded over as he tilted further and further to his right, and yeah, maybe he was going to have the worst night/morning of his life, but damn if the street cred he earned in that moment wasn’t worth it.

“Cake!- Darnold helpfully supplied, and Tommy forcefully threw himself at the man to give him a huge hug.

“Iz cake!”- He slurred from Darnold’s shoulder, waving an arm around way too close to Bubby’s face, -“Whoza next!?”

“Gordon!”- The latter smirked, slapping away Tommy’s hand and leaning further back into Coomer.

Gordon turned his head so fast his neck cracked, a slight headache immediately forming from the whiplash.

“No!? What!? No, I didn’t agree to that. Why me!?”- He began pouring himself another drink. Suddenly he was really craving some of that strongest potion.

“Because you offered the game, right?”- Bubby grinned, and Dr Coomer nodded in agreement.

“You did offer the game, Gordon.”

“I know I offered the damn- Hey, why don’t we have someone else go, huh!? Why not- Why not Benrey?”- At the mention of his name, said being popped his head up and stared directly back at Gordon, -“He, like, never participates! What’s up with that!”

And he wasn’t lying, either. For someone who consistently talked about gaming, Benrey almost never took part in their late night competitions. Gordon could never tell why – he could never, ever tell why anything with this guy – but to him this felt almost deliberate. Of course, everything Benrey did felt deliberate – that is, he was always deliberately trying to get on Gordon’s nerves.

And this time was no exception.

“huh?”- Came the simple response, and the burn in Gordon’s stomach turned to a burn in his chest.

“Yeah, you never do anything! Here we are, running around like headless chickens, doing whatever stupid shit we want each other to do, and you just sit there!”

“whu-?”

“What, you think this is like, some kinda free show for you? Some kinda performance piece!? No, nope, that won’t do, buddy. You’re gonna participate or you’re gonna get the hell out of here, alright? Truth or Dare?”

“dare”

The reply came so fast, Gordon nearly lost his footing while sitting. He blinked down at the glass in his hand, brows furrowing in concentration.

Alright, sure, cool. Maybe he didn’t expect Benrey to actually answer. And maybe he definitely didn’t expect him to choose dare. This was fine. It was fine.

Gordon poured himself another drink.

“daaaaare,”- Benrey whined at the same time as Bubby said “The man has chosen dare, Gordon, now will you please give it to him!”

“Alright, alright; don’t shout at me, I’m thinking!”

“Well, think faster!”

“It is rude to make other people wait, Gordon,”- Dr Coomer pursed his lips as Tommy may or may not have said something in agreement. He was now more than half lying on Darnold, who didn’t seem to care in the least, and his hand was absentmindedly stroking Sunkist’s back.

Knowing him, though, he most definitely was on Benrey’s side here. They all always were.

“Would you like some ideas, Dr Freeman?”- Darnold offered, and Gordon reached his boiling point.

“No! No, alright, I got it! I dare you to, uh,”- Gordon looked Benrey over, his stupid acidic gamer slogan hoodie making his retinas hurt, watched as the same hooded eyes not blink as they stared back, dull, unseeing, bored, overcast in a shadow that seemed to be permanently encasing his sharp face. And then Gordon scrunched up his nose as he said with the most vitriol possible, -“I dare you to take off you stupid beanie.”

It was but a beat of silence before Benrey, understandably this time, went, - “huh???”

“You heard me,”- Gordon doubled down this time, fully recognizing how stupid and inconsequential his dare seemed in comparison to Coomer’s, but damn if he wasn’t going to insist on it now, -“Come on. Show us what’s under there. Show us what- Show us what you’re hiding.”

Benrey blinked once. Then twice.

And then he was suddenly making his way towards the front of the room, crawling on all fours like an animal, and his gaze pointedly fixed on Gordon as he said “ohhhhh does feetman wanna- does feetman wanna see my secret parts. does feetman wanna take a glance at my uhhhh my special place”

Gordon nearly choked on his drink, a renegade laugh escaping this throat as he desperately tried not to have vodka pour out of his nose.

“What the FUCK, man, don’t call it that!?”

“what next, you gonna ask me to take my shoes off. maybe my socks? i’m gonna need to see a signed permission for that first”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!”- Gordon slammed the table as he keeled over, and he could almost physically feel Bubby rolling his eyes.

“You gonna do it or what!?”- He nudged Benrey with his foot so that the other nearly toppled over.

“what, that it”

“Wh-What?”- Gordon managed in between taking deep breaths, feeling the room sway slightly from side to side. He hated how everything the guard said made him lose his shit. He especially hated it right then, when he was staring right at him with that self-confident smirk that still somehow managed to look bored. He hated it so much.

“is that all? weak”

“What, you wanna take off your shirt too? Be my guest, man, fucking- Strip down to your pants. Do it. You won’t.”

Benrey stared at him.

Gordon regretted every decision he ever made that led him up to this point.

Benrey smiled.

And then in one confident motion he ripped off his hoodie, his beanie coming along with it.

He threw them to the side, the pile of clothes landing on Sunkist, who didn’t seem to mind in the least, and this was exactly the point where Gordon realized that this was a bad, bad, horrifically bad idea.

He didn’t know what he expected to see when Benrey took off his hat (or helmet or whatever other stupid thing he was wearing at the time), didn’t really think about it (or tried not to) but damn if it wasn’t this. It was just - just hair. Completely normal hair, almost insultingly so, jet black and cropped short to his skull. But it wasn’t even the hair that was the biggest offender - no, it was the now completely open, completely normal and completely handsome face that was staring back at him. Completely human, completely right, and so disgustingly unobscured that it made Gordon’s stomach do back flips that would have scored tens all around at the Olympics.

When Benrey’s fingers twitched to remove the undershirt that he had underneath, he knew he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Okay, okay, fuck! We- We get it! You did the dare, alright, enough! That’s just indecent exposure at this point! Chill out, man!”

Benrey didn’t reply, but didn’t move to strip down any more. Gordon allowed himself to breathe again.

He was way too drunk for this.

He poured another drink.

After an uncomfortable stretch of terrible silence where Gordon could acutely feel the burn in his face and shoulders, Dr Coomer finally spoke up with an “That was a shitty dare, Gordon!”

“Yeah, it was horribly underwhelming. Not even writhing snakes underneath that thing,”- Bubby immediately joined, and at that Tommy perked up only to mumble “badgers” and then fall back down onto Darnold, knocking them both over to the floor.

Gordon couldn’t keep in the laughter that bubbled up from his stomach, and he had to look for support if only to stay upright. At this point, he was certain that if he were to fall down, he would not get back up again.

Of course, it just so happened that this time his closest support structure was Benrey, and by the time he realized that he was grabbing onto the other’s shoulder, it was way too late. Benrey was already staring at him, a smirk stretching over his lips that, without the ever-present shadow painting over his eyes, now looked almost... Nice. Sweet.

Gordon shifted in his seat, slowly removing his hand and clearing his throat.

That’s right. Play it cool. Play it cool.

Easier said than done, though, especially considering Benrey’s skin was practically burning next to him.

Gordon pulled at his hair tie, freeing his curls if only to have something covering his face. Dammit, Freeman, play it cool!

“Alright, which of you lightweights is going to go next?”- Bubby sighed, clearly resigning to being an observer this round, rather than a participant.

“gordon,”- Came a voice directly from Gordon’s right, and he immediately opened his mouth in protest.

Only to be shut up by Bubby before saying a single word, -“If you even so much as make a single sound besides “Truth” or “Dare”, I swear to fuck I will set your curtains on fire.”

Gordon was really tempted to say “Fuck off, not again”.

Instead, he resigned to whispering, “...Truth.”

“huh? what was that? truth? does little baby want truth? does little baby want his truth bottle?”

“Shut the fuck up, asshole, that doesn’t even make sense. The game isn’t called Dare or Dare, I can choose what I want.”

“stupid shitty baby can’t even handle this truth.”

Gordon snorted, fists curling up at his sides as he inhaled sharply, turning to face the permanent annoyance of his life that was Benrey.

“Okay. Okay. You know what? Okay! You wanna dance Benrey, huh? You wanna dance? Then let’s fucking dance. It’s dare. I choose dare. Hit me.”

Benrey’s smile only widened as Gordon’s heart sank deeper and his ears tingled with a warmth that was unwelcome, but not unfamiliar. And before either one of them could make a move, there was the distinct sound of clothes shuffling, the noise of something breaking, and then Tommy was kneeling on the floor, swaying from side to side like a piece of grass in a gentle breeze, finger pointed up, eyelids half closed as he barely managed out an, “I d-daaare- I dare Miste-ww Freeemann and B-Ben- Rey- To danz!”

Having finished his incredible statement, Tommy fell onto his other side, head landing right on Sunkist, and Darnold gently patted him on the shoulder mumbling “There, there.”

Gordon could only side eye the other scientists. He would be laughing right now, really, if he wasn’t so perfectly outraged by the proposition.

“Uh, how about no? You know I love you Tommy, but if you think that even for a second-“

“chicken man.”

“...What?”

“gordon freeman more like. more like gordon fowlman.”

“Hah, that was a clever one, Benrey! Keep it up!”- Dr Coomer encouraged, and Gordon really didn’t need that in his life right now.

“I’m not afraid to dance with you, I-“

“chickon fowlman”

“Fucking stop, alright! We’re both drunk as shit, and I doubt any one of us is a good dancer, we’re probably gonna break some-“

“what, no. i’m a great dancer. i’m the best- the bestest at dance. moves. number one in just dance 2003 on the playstation 2- got an award. a diploma. what do you got. stupid chicken legs. cluck cluck cluck, i’m idiot baby, i can’t dance-“

Gordon was on his feet in seconds, the room spinning around like a freaking kaleidoscope, but he’d be damned if he let this pretty- this cute- this shitty garbage sack believe that he was better than him. Even if it was true.

At this point, he was more than drunk, he was pissed, he was warm, and he wanted to wipe that stupid smile off of Benrey’s face if it was the last goddamn thing he did. If that meant he needed to dance, then he was going to fucking dance.

“Fine, okay, sure! Let’s go, let’s fucking go, go, go! Dr Coomer, hit us with a beat!”

If it was a dance battle Benrey wanted, it was a battle he was going to g-

The soft sound of a gentle piano was definitely not what Gordon expected to come out of the- Of Dr Coomer...? He honestly wasn’t sure where Dr Coomer was producing the sound from, but that mattered less at the moment than the particular sound being produced - which certainly wasn’t what he had in mind.

“What the fuck!? What is this shit?”

“Gordon, this track is As Time Goes By by the Claude Williamson Trio-“

“No, no, I don’t give- Who cares about the name of the track!? We’re not fucking slow dancing! Give us something with a beat!”

“But Gordon, I enjoy this song.“

This was yet another moment where Tommy decided to speak up, suddenly raising his hand with one finger pointing at the ceiling, his voice muffled by the perfect dog’s fur as he muttered “I- I dare Mr Freeman- and- and Benrey to- to Slow. Dance. For fiiiiiiiiiiive miiiiiinuuuuuutesssssssss.”

His hand fell back to the floor with an audible thump.

“No! Hey, no, that’s not- That’s not in the rules! You can’t just change the original dare like-“

“Oh my god, silently! Quietly! Without words! Slow dance for five fucking minutes with your mouths shut tight, okay! That’s your fucking dare!”- Bubby threw his arms up, and the reflection in his glasses told Gordon that his curtains are very much in immediate danger.

This was dumb. This was more than dumb, this was shitty, stupid, against all rules, and really, he should just kick them all out and be done with it all.

So, like any rational and sound-minded person, Gordon swallowed down the horrible tightness in his throat, and opened up his arms in an invitation.

He didn’t mean to bite his lip when Benrey approached him, really, he didn’t, but his chest refused to stop pounding, his arms felt sticky and gross, and his vision was only ever so slightly blurry when he reached out his hand and grabbed Benrey’s.

“I’ll lead,”- He barely whispered, maybe more like mouthed so that didn’t count, and Benrey did not protest for once, his other hand finding his way over to Gordon’s shoulder. Gordon hesitated only a second before lightly guiding his fingers to the other’s waist.

There was a moment of certain panic, blood freezing over as an electric current ran through his spine, sudden realization that he couldn’t remember the last time he danced with anyone flooding his senses, before being replaced with a gentle, coaxing burn when he felt Benrey pull at him and take a step backwards. Gordon swallowed hard again, allowing his drunkenness to overtake for a moment, letting himself sway ever so gently as he tried his best to guide the other around the room. This wasn’t exactly a waltz, not even close, but at least he was conscious enough not to step on any feet or trip over his own.

This was... excruciating.

He didn’t know where to look, eyes darting around the room like he was desperately looking for an escape, and his hands and hair felt altogether way too sweaty for any of this. He didn’t want to hear Benrey’s slightly exalted breathing, the firm press of his hand in Gordon’s own, the feeling of those dark, dark, immensely dark eyes staring right into his very being. Five minutes, Gordon learned by the first 30 seconds, was an outrageously long time.

It was only around the second minute mark, when Gordon was certain he was going to pass out before finishing the dance, that his vision darkened for a split second, and it wasn’t before long that a feeling of complete and utter surrender washed over him. Shoulders dropping down, muscles releasing with an almost audible click, he felt his anxiety dissipate in the air along with that unbearable, pulsating heat. The only thing left was his heavy eyelids defiantly staying open and the soft sound of the piano keys running through the air. He willed his head to turn to Benrey then, finally allowing himself to make eye contact for the first time, and the sea of gently glowing blue orbs around them nearly overwhelmed his vision.

“calm down,”- Benrey mouthed, and Gordon gladly obeyed, nodding his head ever so slightly.

His arms felt like cotton, like melting butter, so he allowed both his hands to travel to Benrey’s lower back, not able to keep them up anymore. Benrey, in turn, gently wrapped his own arms around Gordon’s neck, and Gordon couldn’t find it in him to protest.

He could find it in him to be delighted, though.

He didn’t know what it was, exactly - the alcohol, the forced silence, or the gentle blue light that filled his very soul, but he suddenly felt braver, braver than he had ever been before. But more importantly, he felt curious - and so he tugged Benrey a little closer, just that much. He knew it was but a gentle pull - no, he was certain of it. The rest of the way between their bodies Benrey closed on his own.

Gordon’s stomach ignited in fireworks, his ribs prickling with the sensation of the other flush against him, the touch of his skin intoxicating in ways he didn’t remember were possible.

And all the while, his eyes were glued to Benrey’s, almost morbidly mesmerized by the two dark caverns that refused to reflect light and seemed to only take, take, and take.

Benrey’s fingers tangled in his hair, and Gordon couldn’t help the genuine smile that easily found its home on his face, couldn’t help the breath that got stolen when he saw that same smile reflected on Benrey’s own.

His fists balled in the other’s thin shirt, and he couldn’t remember the last time he felt so secure.

Serene. Right.

It’s nights like these, Gordon thought, that make everything worth it.

The last note played, the orbs burned out, and the only thing left standing in the middle of it all were the two of them, still clinging one to another, breathing hard as though they have just finished an intense exercise routine, and for a brief moment, time stood still.

And Gordon felt as though something unspoken has passed between them in that one moment.

And in the next, raucous applause followed, mostly provided by Dr Coomer, with Darnold gently joining in. Bubby let out a few claps as well, and they almost didn’t sound sarcastic.

“Bravo, Gordon! What a beautiful display of emotion!”- Dr Coomer kept on clapping, wiping a tear away from one eye as he cheered, -“For 2 Play Coins, I can replay the same song again!”

“N-No- Uhm-“- Gordon began, feeling his throat as dry as a summer in a dessert, having to cough violently as he practically peeled himself from Benrey. The immediate cold and overall shittiness that followed almost weren’t worth it, -“Ahem. That’s- That’s quite alright.”

“Ah shit, there he goes on talking again,”- Bubby rolled his eyes, and the atmosphere seemed to return to normal.

Benrey went to sit next to Tommy’s most probably unconscious form, and Gordon, after hesitating for way too long, sat down on the opposite side of the room.

A decision he came to regret immediately, if the brief look Benrey gave him was anything to go by.

How that permanently bored, expressionless face could carry so much emotion, Gordon would never know.

What he did know was that he needed another goddamn drink.

And from that point on, it was a huge blur. There were more dares, of course. He was pretty sure Darnold had to do a keg stand and Coomer and Bubby had to exchange clothes.

It was all stupid.

It was all ridiculously fun.

Gordon didn’t feel right throughout any of it.

His mind only came back online closer to morning, when the only thing keeping him awake was the constant noise of conversation and sheer willpower.

“truth,”- Benrey said, crude drawings of Sunkist now decorating both his arms. Gordon wasn’t sure if this was part of a dare or if he just did that for no reason.

“You want to mix it up a little, eh? Think this will be easy, don’t you?”- Bubby’s smile was sharp, all teeth and evil intent, and Gordon suddenly was really happy he wasn’t at the receiving end of that. Bubby was the most entertaining when he was being mean to someone else.

“hit me.”

“Okay. So. Who, out of this group, do you have a crush on?”

Oh. So Gordon was on the receiving end of that after all, huh.

He didn’t know why was it, exactly, that that question hit him like a pile of bricks. But it did. And now he was anxiously staring at Benrey, heart beating so fast it threatened to break through his rib cage.

Benrey, on the other hand, didn’t look nearly as panicked. He just... kept on staring at the floor. And he kept on staring. And he kept on staring until he finally blurted out an. “bbbb.... d.... coomer.”

“I am flattered, Benrey, but I am quite happily married,”- Dr Coomer replied hugging Bubby close, who only rolled his eyes and snorted.

“Bullshit! It’s called Truth, now say the goddamn truth!”

It was at this moment that Benrey’s eye met Gordon’s.

It was at this moment that Gordon knew precisely what to do.

In a move that probably required him to be way more sober, he kicked the table so hard that half the glasses and bottles on top of it tumbled over, some rolling to the floor and breaking with a resounding crash.

“Fuck! What the fuck!”- Bubby exclaimed, throwing his feet up on the couch, and even Tommy came back to life for a second to look around, before passing back out on Sunkist again.

“Careful, Dr Freeman! These babies can melt through concrete!”- Darnold immediately busying himself with picking up his vials, and Gordon took this moment to stand up, exaggerating his slur and wobbliness (though not by much) when he said, -“Woo... Huh... Sorry- Sorry, guys, I must have- Man, I’m dying, I think I- I need sleep, guys, I-“

“Yes, yes, we get the message,”- Bubby sighed, as Dr Coomer immediately laid straight down on the couch, forcibly pulling him down as well, -“Goodnight, Gordon.”

“Good night, Gordon!”- Coomer echoed, closing his eyes and passing out within seconds.

“Take care, Dr Freeman,”- Darnold nodded, before snuggling up next to Sunkist and Tommy.

Well, that was easy. If there was one thing about The Science Team that Gordon appreciated most of all, it was how they didn’t bother asking questions. It was better that way, really.

He should be a better host and at the very least get them blankets, Gordon thought, carefully avoiding the broken glass as he made his way across the room.

This was a problem for tomorrow’s Gordon.

Now, however, he had more pressing matters to attend to.

Benrey stood up as Gordon approached him, staring silently, before turning around and abruptly making his way to the entrance.

“Wa- Wait- Benrey, wait!”- This time it wasn’t an exaggeration when Gordon nearly tripped over his own feet. His head was throbbing with a headache unlike any other, but he shut that part up for a brief second. More important matters, -“Where the hell are you going!?”

“away?”- Benrey replied as though that was the most obvious thing in the world.

“But- Wait- I mean. Why? You can stay here? I’m not kicking you out?”

He stared. And then he stared some more.

It was true that Benrey usually disappeared before morning came, like some sort of vampire that could only come out at night. Gordon never questioned it, never bothered to ask him why he left – it didn’t matter that his apartment always felt a little emptier.

It didn’t matter before, but it mattered now.

“I mean- I know there’s not a lot of room, and the guys are all over the living room, but, y’know, my bed is a double, so if you wanna, you can-“

“i don’t sleep”

Gordon blinked down, the ramble in his head and his words interrupted by this simple poignant statement. He tilted his head, desperately trying to keep standing upright.

“What? Like, at all? That’s bullshit man, that’s complete- and I- I saw you, okay, I saw you sleeping in-“

“kind of gay of you. watching me sleep. wanna see my hair then. then taking my shirt off then. then dancing with me like-“

“Shhh- Shut up, shut up!”- Gordon hissed, taking Benrey by the hand and quietly leading him back to the bedroom. There was no way he would be able to handle this conversation standing up, -“This isn’t- It’s not like that, okay, it’s-“

“It’s not?”

It wasn’t often that Gordon was able to tell what Benrey was thinking or feeling at any given moment. In this instance, however, the disappointment in his voice was so palpable that he could almost taste it on his tongue.

“N-No! Wait, I mean- Yes? I mean- I- I don’t fucking knoooow, man,”- He sighed, dropping down on the bed, head immediately spinning like the propellers of a helicopter, heart drumming, jaw aching, -“I just- I’m too drunk, Benrey. I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t- I just know I don’t want you to leave.”

He didn’t know if that was enough. It didn’t sound enough to him.

But to Benrey, apparently, it was.

In a moment the space besides Gordon felt the bed beside him dip, that already familiar heat seeping through his skin like nuclear radiation, overwhelming him whole.

He felt himself magnetized, moving closer to it almost unconsciously, keeping his eyes closed to prevent the room from spinning crazy. His hand worked of their own volition, desperately searching for anything to hold, and when he felt a set of fingers interlace with his own, he allowed himself to exhale all the tension in his shoulders.

“Thanks,”- He whispered, snuggling in closer, inhaling a scent that was near acidic, but not unpleasant. He didn’t know how he would justify this to himself tomorrow, didn’t want to think about that just yet, and he heard a stream of sweet voice being spread around the room.

He opened his eyes just for a second, just a brief moment to register the vibrant pink floating around his bedroom, the gentle glow that outlined Benrey’s hooded eyes, and for once he thought he could recognize something in them.

Gordon exhaled softly, holding on for dear life.

“Goodnight,”- He said, or maybe thought, or maybe imagined, his consciousness finally fading into sweet darkness.

“gordon,”- Benrey replied then, quiet, soft, and with the certain conviction of a man giving the right answer to a demanding question.

#frenrey #hlvrai #half life vr but the ai is self aware #there is also a smidgen of boomer in there #and softly implied darnold/tommy #i cant believe this is my first fic in two years and this is what i write #hlvrai truly is incredible huh #fanfiction #sai.fic

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babysizedfics · 5 years ago

Text

Little Accidents, Big Developments

Chapter 1: A Colourful Afternoon

[This is an age regression story]

The sides have successfully integrated Virgil's regression and Roman's age dreaming into their dynamic, and everyone seems happier for it. Though, Virgil's willingness to trust the others is tested when a long-term problem starts to present itself around his family; his regression leaves him susceptible to wetting himself.

Caregivers Patton and Logan try to help him navigate this issue all while navigating their own newly-discovered romantic feelings for each other.

Sibling spats, covert kissing sessions, and baby babbles lie herein.

Other chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / bonus

Read on AO3 or below the cut!

Chapter Summary:

Roman tries to look after his baby brother, Logan learns to let loose a little, Virgil is nervous to be left on his own, and Patton can’t take much more of this adorableness without screeching.

Chapter word count: 9,000

oOo

It was late afternoon in the mindscape and the house had been moderately quiet. There was the faint clattering of pans as Patton cooked in the kitchen, the soft scratching of Virgil’s crayons, and Logan’s quiet snores coming from the couch. They had been the only sounds cutting through the lazy atmosphere, up until Roman started playing with his Disney figurines. The silly voices and impromptu solos he made the characters perform interrupted the calm, though it was such a common sound in the house that no one seemed to notice the change.

Virgil had regressed a few hours earlier and, as usual, Roman’s littlespace quickly followed. There were a variety of reasons Virgil’s regression often inspired Roman to trigger his age dreaming; seeing Virgil act so young sparked the craving for Roman himself to let go of adult responsibilities, plus seeing Virgil’s various baby items such as his plushes and soft clothes made Roman miss his own little items - especially his toys. Also (and probably most of all), the care and affection that Patton and Logan bestowed upon a regressed Virgil did admittedly make Roman jealous. But he had learned that if he only asked for it, he was given the same level of attention, so it no longer upset him as it had previously. Instead of getting angry like he used to, he knew he could just fall into his own littlespace and he and Virgil could both be taken care of without any arguments. Though that afternoon, not much attention was being given to either of them.

Patton had tasked Logan with caregiving duties when he left to make dinner. While the logical side had taken to his caregiving headspace much more readily in the recent weeks, the lull of the afternoon had apparently made him lethargic and he had fallen asleep not long after.

Roman didn’t mind, though. As Virgil’s big brother, that meant that while the caregivers were not in the room (or were unconscious) it was Roman who was in charge! He hadn’t taken to caregiving, and he had no desire to, but he felt a childish giddiness at being given the role of a protector. Even if it was unintentionally handed to him by Logan falling asleep.

But Roman was quickly realising it was a lot harder to look after Virgil than their caregivers made it look.

The littles had both been preoccupied when Patton left, Virgil colouring a picture and Roman playing with his toys. Though, being much more observant and aware in his littlespace than Virgil was, Roman did notice when Patton left. He had tiptoed out quietly, leaving the distracted Virgil unaware of his departure.

Roman knew this was because of how clingy Virgil had become. Ever since they integrated his regression into the family dynamic, Virgil could hardly bear to be away from his Papa’s side for a minute. Logan had said it was something called ‘separation anxiety’ and that it was common for young children. Whatever it was called, Roman still didn’t see why it was worth crying every time their dad left the room. It wasn’t like he went far.

As expected, when Virgil finished his drawing and held it up to where Patton had been sitting, he stiffened on seeing the empty armchair. Roman looked up at the movement and felt his stomach drop when he saw Virgil’s eyes tear up.

He didn’t like it when Virgil cried, partly because it meant he stole all of their caregivers' attention, but mostly because it made Roman’s tummy flip and his throat get all cloggy when he saw his little brother upset. He didn’t like it.

‘It’s okay, Vee,’ Roman said. He dropped his toys and quickly shuffled closer to Virgil on the carpet. Their caregivers had said Virgil needed to be close to someone if he was sad because it helped him feel safer. ‘What’s the matter?’

Virgil’s fingers flew up to tug nervously at the handle of the pacifier that sat in his mouth. His eyes frantically searched around the room.

‘Dad went to make dinner,’ Roman explained. ‘Look, Mom’s still here,’ he pointed at Logan who let out a timely snore.

‘Theep,’ Virgil lisped through his pacifier, sounding upset.

‘Yeah, he’s asleep,’ Roman said, 'but I'm here too.'

The worry stayed on Virgil’s face, and Roman was about to speak again but fell silent when his hand was suddenly covered by something soft and warm. Roman’s gaze fell down to see that Virgil was holding his hand tightly. When he looked back up, Virgil refused to meet his eyes.

Pride surged through Roman. His little brother wanted comfort and was relying on him! He puffed out his chest to look important and tried to think of a way he could help Virgil feel better. He would prove he was just as smart and kind as their caregivers, and then Virgil would love him just as much.

‘Don’t be scared, baby,’ Roman said then twisted his hand around so that he could grip Virgil’s hand back in reassurance. ‘Do you wanna do another colouring?’

A small whimper escaped Virgil as his hand clasped tighter around Roman’s.

‘You wanna stay with me?’ Roman asked and Virgil nodded slightly. ‘Then let’s do a colouring together. We can show Mom when he wakes up and then Dad and they’ll be really happy we played nice together!’

Virgil perked up at the suggestion and Roman was happy to see he didn’t look close to tears anymore. Roman had helped Virgil to stop being scared and came up with a really good way to play together; he was the best big brother ever!

He summoned a large piece of paper, an assortment of coloured markers, and a black fineliner. With the fineliner, he started drawing a complex lined image of an overgrown bush full of leaves and flowers of various shapes. Virgil did not let go of his hand throughout the few minutes it took to finish and Roman was glad his dominant left hand was the one left free to draw.

When it was done, he tipped the coloured pens out of their case and they tumbled unceremoniously onto the floor.

‘You can start colouring that side and I’ll do this side,’ Roman directed, then grabbed a red marker and began adding colour to a rose.

He stopped after a few moments when he realised Virgil hadn’t moved. He looked up with a frown and saw a hesitance in Virgil’s eyes.

‘C’mon, you know how to colour,’ Roman whined in complaint.

Roman thought he had made Virgil feel happy, but now he was just being a scared baby again. And Roman didn’t even know why! He wasn’t good at knowing what was wrong with Virgil, their caregivers were supposed to do that. A faint frustration bubbled in his chest, but he knew to keep it there and not snap at Virgil. That was when things got really frustrating because when Roman yelled, Virgil would cry then Patton got worried and Logan told Roman off for being mean.

‘Why’re you scared?’ Roman asked. Then a thought came to him and he pouted. ‘Do you not like my picture?’

Virgil’s eyes widened and he shook his head. Roman breathed a sigh of relief.

‘Then what? You don’t like using pens? You dunno what colour to use?’ At the last question, Virgil’s hand squeezed and he nodded.

‘That’s silly,’ Roman giggled. Why was Virgil scared about something like that? ‘You can use whatever colour you want.’

‘Bu’ it yours,’ Virgil mumbled, the pacifier garbling his words.

‘Nu-uh,’ Roman shook his head, ‘I made it for both of us. And it’s boring if I choose all the colours, anyway,’ he shrugged then went back to colouring.

After a few seconds, Virgil slowly picked up a purple marker and Roman smiled at him to show that it was good. They coloured together in silence, their hands still joined between them.

A couple of minutes passed before Roman heard a gasp and looked over to see that Virgil’s pen marks had slipped outside of the lines. It wasn’t surprising; Virgil could never stay inside the lines when he coloured. When he first saw the messy work in Virgil’s colouring book, Roman teased him about it but then Virgil got sad and Patton had explained it was because Virgil regresses so young. Roman pointed out that Virgil was also using his wrong hand to colour because he was usually left-handed but Logan told him not to draw attention to it. So Roman apologised and Virgil was never worried about his messy colouring after that.

But for some reason this time Virgil looked like he’d committed an unforgivable crime. His eyes were wide and he had quickly dropped the pen to hide his hands in his sleeves.

‘That looks cool!’ Roman said quickly. He really didn’t want Virgil to start crying again.

Virgil looked like he was scared of him and it made Roman sad. How come Virgil didn’t believe him? He remembered Logan saying something about showing instead of just telling when you’re trying to get someone to understand you, so Roman decided he should show Virgil that colouring outside the lines was okay.

He stabbed his own pen onto the page and purposefully scribbled over the lines. He looked over at Virgil and saw the younger boy look cautiously from the page to Roman.

‘It’s more fun like this,’ Roman assured him. Then he grabbed a different coloured pen and started drawing swirling shapes outside of the lines. It wasn’t a lie - this was way more exciting than trying to be careful with the colours!

Virgil made a noise of understanding then picked up his purple pen and started scribbling randomly too. Soon they were filling the page with a rainbow of colours and shapes and made a silent game of trying to fill up their side of the page faster than the other. The room gradually filled with their growing laughter.

oOo

Logan awoke to the joyful sound of childish giggles.

In any other situation, it would have irritated him to be jolted out of sleep by someone else’s loudness. He heavily relied upon his body to wake him at the perfect stage of his sleep cycle to avoid any grogginess. Logan had made it very clear to the rest of the household a long time ago that they should not wake him unnaturally unless in emergencies. The others certainly didn’t seem to appreciate it on the rare occasion when Logan’s sleep cycle was interrupted and he had been far more impatient than usual.

Though this time Logan did not mind. Blinking his eyes open to see Roman and Virgil laughing together, joined at the hand and smiling brightly immediately dispelled any of Logan’s unsavoury feelings at being woken up. Though realising that he had fallen asleep while he was meant to be looking after the littles did cause him some guilt.

‘I apologise for falling asleep,’ Logan said, readjusting his glasses. ‘Have you two been alright?’

The two looked up at him excitedly.

‘Mom, I looked after Vee while you were asleep!’ Roman cried triumphantly.

‘Thank you, Roman,’ Logan said, ‘it appears you did a wonderful job.’ Both caregivers had realised Roman required a lot of positive reinforcement when he was little, so Logan always made a conscious effort to praise him.

‘Yeah, I did,’ Roman agreed with a big smile.

Virgil released Roman’s hand and stretched his arms out to Logan wordlessly as if he could somehow make them span the length of the living room floor. Logan immediately got up and walked over, settling to kneel on the carpet between both boys.

‘Have you been having fun with your big brother?’ Logan asked as he wrapped an arm around Virgil’s shoulders. Virgil hummed in confirmation and leaned against Logan’s side.

‘Do you like our colouring?’ Roman asked, tugging on Logan’s other arm harshly.

‘There is no need to pull, Roman. Just asking will do,’ Logan reprimanded gently, then looked down at the large piece of paper (A2 size, he noted) in front of him.

The page was decorated in an intricate, hand-drawn floral design, though the colours did not necessarily reflect the image. There were polka dots and spirals and scribbles and doodles of all different hues decorating the edges of the paper, with the middle of it still uncoloured. It was abstract and so something Logan would never normally have seen the point in. Though, he had to admit the disregard for conventionality was rather creative. And the smiles on Roman and Virgil’s faces were enough to convince Logan of the benefits of it.

‘It is rather colourful,’ he said. His neutral response appeared to disappoint Roman, so Logan promptly added, ‘and beautiful.’

‘Thanks, Mom!’ Roman said with a bright smile. ‘This is my side, and that one’s Vee’s,’ he indicated them with his pointer finger.

Logan looked at it more carefully, noticing the contrast between each side of the page. Roman’s colours were much more varied, seemingly using every colour available, and created elegant swirling patterns and smooth gradients. Not a single part of his side was left blank. Virgil’s side was much messier, with less variation in colours - he had used purples and blues mainly with some occasional hints of red. His pen marks were erratic and there were large streaks of white showing through the ink. His colouring was visibly less thought-out than Roman’s, appearing to be far more based on whimsy rather than aesthetics.

A quiet whimper sounded beside him and then Virgil’s face was pressed into his shoulder. Logan realised his quiet deliberation must have made him anxious.

‘The sides are both very different,’ he confirmed, ‘just as you two are very different.’ Virgil’s face pushed further against him. ‘Though they are both equally beautiful.’

He did not have much time to enjoy the look of surprise and delight on Virgil’s face before Roman was jostling his shoulder for attention again.

‘It was my idea!’ he proclaimed. Logan turned his head to him with an exaggerated look of surprise.

‘It was?’ he gasped.

‘Mhm,’ Roman nodded fervently. ‘Vee was nearly crying, so I said we should colour together to make him feel better.’

Logan smiled encouragingly, though tightened his hold around Virgil as he felt the younger side tense. Roman was not exactly delicate when mentioning Virgil’s tears. Still, he did not mean any harm and so there wasn’t much to be done about it.

‘That was very considerate of you,’ Logan said. ‘Your dad will be glad to hear it as well.’

Roman nodded to himself then jumped back into colouring with rekindled fervour.

Logan took the opportunity to give Virgil his undivided attention. It was a rare moment when Roman was occupied enough to not demand it for himself.

‘How are you feeling, Virgil?’ Logan asked, squeezing his shoulder lightly.

Virgil did not offer a response but looked up at Logan expectedly. He was evidently not very verbal at that moment.

‘Do you need anything?’ Logan asked instead, hoping the more direct question would encourage him to communicate.

‘Papa,’ Virgil whispered as soon as Logan finished speaking, the word muffled by his pacifier.

A sharp, unpleasant feeling spiked Logan’s stomach but he chose to ignore it.

‘Shall we go and show Papa the colouring?’ Logan asked.

‘No, it’s not finished yet!’ Roman interrupted.

Logan sighed quietly then turned to see Roman’s pouting face.

‘I believe dinner is almost ready,’ Logan said, going off of the appetising smells that filled the house. ‘And this is a rather large drawing. You may not have time to complete it before your dad sees it.’

‘He can’t see it yet,’ Roman mumbled grumpily. He started colouring again, though this time he was pressing the marker so hard against the paper it made a squeaking sound.

Logan wanted to respond to Roman’s tantrum but felt a gentle tug on his opposite sleeve. He twisted his body to see Virgil shyly holding a marker up to him.

‘For me?’ Logan asked redundantly, taking the pen.

Virgil pointed at the colouring page, his eyes pleading with Logan.

‘Oh, I see,’ Logan said. He considered for a moment then conceded, ‘I suppose I can help.’

Virgil smiled then picked up a pink marker and started scribbling.

Logan popped the cap off of his own pen and started to draw a simple square on the page. As the minutes ticked by, he experimented with various shapes and marks, though eventually settled on writing numbers chronologically. It was calming, and the boys didn’t seem to mind the difference, instead seeming pleased by the wild variation of work on the page.

It did not take long for the page to fill up, and by the time Logan was reaching the 130s their pens were crowding in on each other, fighting over the last few square inches of white paper.

Suddenly, there was a cold, wet swipe on Logan’s hand. With a slight delay, they all realised Virgil had mistakenly drawn over Logan’s hand rather than the paper. The pink pen clattered to the floor as Virgil recoiled from Logan, looking at him anxiously.

‘It’s alright, Virgil,’ Logan hastened to reassure him. ‘It’s only a bit of ink. No cause for worry.’

A mischievous giggle sounded from his other side and another cold tip tickled across his skin, this time on his forearm.

Logan looked over in surprise to see a red crown drawn on his arm. His gaze flitted up to Roman’s challenging smirk. If Roman were an adult at that moment, Logan might have accepted the challenge, but this was a child he was dealing with. He could contain his competitive nature if only to prove he would not sink to such silliness.

‘Highly amusing,’ Logan said, trying to get the right balance of playfulness and sternness in his tone, ‘but we should probably stick to drawing on the -’

He was silenced by a quiet giggle and yet another tickle on his opposite forearm. Virgil was scribbling on his arm happily now. Before Logan could close his gaping mouth, Roman was laughing boisterously and drawing on his arm again.

Logan’s gaze darted between the two impish boys helplessly for a few seconds. Then he raised his pen and said very seriously:

‘You both have made a grave mistake.’

oOo

Patton lifted the wooden spoon to his lips to taste his sauce and smiled at the burst of flavour. Perfect.

He dropped the spoon to the counter and turned off the stovetop. After closing the lid on the saucepan to keep it warm, he checked on the vegetables in the oven. Just a few more minutes and they would be done. Perhaps he could risk just a little bit of playtime with his boys while he waited. He rinsed his hands in the sink then started making his way to the living room, excited to see his family again even if he had only been gone for half an hour.

As he traipsed through the hallway, echoes of laughter became audible and grew louder with every step. Once Patton reached the closed living room door, he almost had to cover his ears from the squeals and joyous shouts that came from inside. He eased the door open silently, not wanting to disturb the fun before he got a chance to observe what exactly had them all so hysterical.

As soon as he poked his head around the door, a wide smile stretched his lips.

Heaped onto the carpet were three writhing bodies; Logan was at the bottom of the pile, his back propped against the front of the couch and his legs splayed out on the floor. They were trying to buck off Roman, who sat on Logan's knees and scribbled a pen over his shins, exposed by his rolled-up pant legs. Then there was Virgil, laid across Logan’s lap and wriggling around as Logan bunched up his sweater and scribbled a pen over his tummy. Virgil was doing his best to retaliate by drawing on Logan’s rosy cheeks, but he was flailing so much from the ticklish scribbling that he could not do much besides giggle and squirm. They were all laughing uncontrollably, gasping for breath as they wrestled playfully with one another.

Patton could hardly believe his eyes and hurriedly took out his phone to snap some pictures so that he would have proof later. The others were so absorbed in their play-fight that they did not notice his presence until Patton put his phone away and finally allowed himself to burst into goofy chuckles along with them.

They slowly seemed to notice the extra set of laughter and ceased their attacks to look over at him. Roman was beaming, appearing delighted that Patton had joined them. Virgil looked shy and curled close to Logan in search of comfort, though Patton could see his dimples and knew he was still smiling behind his pacifier. Logan had completely frozen, his smile dropping from his face within seconds and looking like a deer caught in headlights.

The logical side was so stunned that he startled when Virgil drew a heart on his cheek, evidently taking advantage of Logan’s obliviousness. The sensation shook Logan from his stupor and he looked down at the little in his arms and offered a playful mock glare. When Virgil giggled in response, Logan finally looked back to Patton.

‘They started it,’ he stated very seriously, contrasting the flush on his face.

Roman made a noise of offence and immediately started scribbling on Logan’s leg again. The logical side seemed uncomfortable to continue with Patton in the room, though.

‘That is enough now,’ Logan said. ‘I believe it must be dinnertime given your Dad’s appearance.’ Logan looked up at Patton almost pleadingly and Patton gave him the benefit of the doubt.

‘He’s right, kiddos, time to wash up before dinner!' Patton instructed the children.

Roman groaned loudly and collapsed on the floor by Logan's legs, his prolonged whine becoming muffled by the carpet. Virgil was far more cooperative and held his hands up for Patton to lift him.

Patton complied happily, grasping his arms and hoisting Virgil up to stand. As soon as he was upright, Patton pressed a kiss to his nose. The shorter side made a small sound of surprise.

Logan stood soon after, brushing off wrinkles from his pants. Roman still lay face-down on the floor.

'Come on, little prince,' Patton said. ‘Aren’t you hungry?’

'No,' Roman said stubbornly.

'Playtime is over, Roman, it's dinnertime now,' Logan stated.

'I don't need dinner!'

‘Falsehood.’

'Oh well, I guess Roman won't be coming,' Patton said loudly. Virgil made a noise of worry but Patton stroked his hair gently and winked over at Logan’s concerned look. 'It's a shame... I need a big boy who will help my baby wash his hands. Guess I'll just have to find another brave, handsome prince to help.'

Roman leapt up so fast Patton worried he would collapse from head-rush.

'I can do it, Dad!' he volunteered enthusiastically.

'Oh, thank you, sweetheart!' Patton grinned. He looked to Logan then nodded at Roman pointedly. The logical side nodded, getting the hint.

'Very chivalrous of you, Roman,' Logan praised.

Roman preened at the attention then reached out his hand to Virgil with a bow.

'I shall protect you with my life, young one.'

Virgil slowly reached out and held onto Roman's offered hand but looked up at Patton nervously.

‘I’m going to be right behind you, sweetie,’ Patton said. ‘I’m not going anywhere, don’t worry.’

Virgil nodded and, led by Roman, the two toddled into the hallway.

As Logan tried to make his way past him to leave the room, Patton couldn’t help himself from giggling.

'So... They started it, huh?' Patton asked.

Logan paused in his path and fidgeted with his tie, straightening it where it had been misplaced by their play-fight.

‘Yes, well,’ he cleared his throat, ‘childish behaviour is to be expected of them.’

‘And it’s fun to join in,’ Patton added with a knowing smile. ‘Just because we’re the grown-ups doesn’t mean we can’t be playful too, Logan. I’m glad you’re having fun with them.’

Logan blushed though Patton saw a smile work its way onto his lips.

‘It is… invigorating,’ Logan said monotonously, then added with a concealed chuckle, ‘and they are quite endearing.’

‘Aren’t they?’ Patton agreed enthusiastically. He desperately wanted to add that Logan too was endearing in his own right, but something stopped him. Not because he didn’t truly believe it, but because he was frightened of Logan realising just how sincere the thought was.

Logan’s mouth opened and closed in quick succession. Then he seemed to abandon his train of thought with a shy smile. It made Patton feel dizzy.

‘Dinner?’

‘Oh, right,’ Patton shook his head lightly. ‘Forgot,’ he breathed through an awkward laugh.

Patton turned and made his way through the hallway in the direction of the kitchen with Logan close behind. He had a sudden thought, pausing by the bathroom door and gesturing for Logan to go through to the kitchen without him.

As he stood outside the bathroom he heard Roman explaining to Virgil that he had to wait for the water to get warm but not too hot and that he would check it for him so the baby doesn't hurt himself. Patton's heart swelled. He wondered when Roman had gotten so protective of Virgil, but didn’t care to question it at all. It was positively adorable.

He knocked on the bathroom door then eased it open when Roman called him in.

Roman's hand was stuck under the running tap, his t-shirt getting splashed slightly in the process. Virgil waited patiently behind him, still clutching onto his other hand.

‘Sweethearts, can you please use the potty before dinner too?’ Patton asked. ‘You both haven't been since you were big.'

'Okay, Dad,' Roman shrugged.

'Good boys,' Patton smiled then left for the kitchen.

Just as he and Logan served up the dishes, Roman and Virgil rushed into the kitchen. Well, Roman rushed in, Virgil was dragged behind him quite clumsily. Patton instantly noted the tension in the younger side’s shoulders.

'Are you alright, Vee?' Patton frowned.

‘He was too embarrassed to go potty,' Roman said, pointing at him.

Virgil's cheeks flushed and he ducked his head.

‘We don't point, Roman,’ Logan reprimanded.

‘Oh, sorry,’ Roman muttered, lowering his hand.

'It’s alright, sweetie,' Patton said, then turned his attention to the anxious side. He moved over to rub gently at Virgil’s shoulders, willing him to relax them. 'You didn't wanna go with Roman in the room?'

Virgil shook his head quickly.

'Okay, can you go alone for me?'

Virgil's head shook even faster.

Patton frowned and looked up to Logan for help.

'Virgil, can you tell us why you won’t go to the bathroom alone if not with Roman?' Logan asked calmly.

Virgil just whimpered and buried his head against Patton's shoulder. Patton instinctively petted his hair in comfort.

'Don't worry, baby. Come here,' Patton whispered.

He led Virgil by the hand back to the bathroom, noting how Virgil’s grip tightened as they drew closer. They stopped in front of the door and Virgil ducked behind Patton as if hiding from it. Patton would have thought it cute if it weren’t concerning him.

'Are you too scared to go in on your own?' he asked quietly, knowing Virgil would be more embarrassed if everyone could hear them.

Virgil nodded against his back. Patton slowly turned so that he could see Virgil’s reaction, though made sure his body still blocked his view of the bathroom as Virgil wanted.

'Okay, do you want Papa to come with you?'

Virgil's cheeks turned pink and he shook his head.

Patton felt lost on what to do but could see the whole ordeal was causing Virgil some distress, so he decided to drop it for now. If he needed the bathroom after dinner they could address the issue again. He probably just didn’t need it.

‘Alright, sweetheart, you don’t need to,’ Patton brushed his cheek lightly. ‘Shall we go have our dinner?’

Virgil visibly perked up and nodded his agreement, so Patton led them back to the kitchen where Logan had laid everyone’s plates out.

oOo

Dinner passed by easily, with excited chatter about what they had been up to that afternoon - mostly with Roman speaking on both his and Virgil’s behalf.

After they had eaten, Logan went to have a quick shower to wash off the pen ink and, after a lot of bargaining, Patton finally got the boys to agree they too would bathe, but later. Virgil was too young to bathe alone but also too self-conscious to let Patton bathe him. It was clear he wanted to wait until he was grown-up again, so Patton didn’t push the matter with him. The majority of his careful persuasion was directed at Roman, who did not have any issue with bathing alone (since he could come out of his littlespace voluntarily, unlike Virgil) but was simply stubborn. Eventually, he agreed to wash, though only if he could watch an episode of Steven Universe first. Patton didn’t necessarily mind the compromise.

After Logan got back from his shower, Patton and the littles had already watched one episode of the cartoon. As soon as Logan had entered the living room, Roman darted off to take his shower at light speed. He hurried back within minutes, his hair dripping wet, not wanting to miss any more of the show. Patton chuckled to himself at Roman’s dishevelled appearance, his pyjamas ruffled having been shoved on in a hurry. He would never have let anyone see him like that if he were his usual adult self.

Soon, all four of them were settled into the comfy atmosphere as the third episode started up. Patton and Logan both sat in the middle of the couch. There was barely any space between them, though they didn’t acknowledge it aloud. Meanwhile, Roman and Virgil sat cross-legged on the carpet gazing up at the screen.

They seemed to be enjoying the show far more in their younger mindsets: Roman was bouncing lightly and reciting lines along with the characters animatedly. Virgil was much more subdued, though Patton noticed he had been swaying gently from side to side for the past couple of episodes. He was sure it was a sign Virgil was relaxed and enjoying the cartoon.

Patton slowly began to feel the exhaustion seep into his body, suddenly aware of the fact that he hadn’t had much opportunity to relax that day. He truly didn’t mind that Roman and Virgil were somewhat demanding when little, he enjoyed being there for them. But his head felt heavy and, without a moment to reconsider, he let it drop gently to Logan’s shoulder.

He waited with bated breath to see if Logan would protest but was pleasantly surprised when Logan’s arm very gently curled around his back. He smiled and tried not to squeak with the bubble of excitement in his chest.

A few more minutes passed in peace, and Patton wasn’t sure when but his eyes had fallen shut. It was not often the house felt so tranquil.

Then, out of nowhere, Virgil gasped. Patton’s eyes shot open to watch Virgil clumsily jump onto his feet and bolt out of the room without a word. His pacifier tumbled to the ground where he had been sitting just a second ago.

The other three were shocked into silence for a moment.

‘Huh?’ Roman frowned back at his caregivers, his eyes noticeably settling on Patton and Logan’s cuddling. Patton unwrapped himself from Logan with a faint blush, though any embarrassment was far overwhelmed by concern for Virgil.

‘Was there a monster on the show?’ Patton asked.

‘Not at all,’ Logan said, sounding just as bewildered as the other two.

‘I’m going to check on him,’ Patton said as he jumped up and followed after the younger side without hesitation.

He jogged along the hallway with a heavy feeling in his chest, mind racing with worry. The house suddenly felt bigger than usual. When he rounded a corner, his heart stuttered at what he saw.

Virgil was facing away from him, doubled over in the middle of the hallway. From the back of him, it looked as if he was in pain and clutching his stomach.

Patton rushed over to his side in panic.

'Baby, are you okay? What’s -'

He cut himself off when he realised what was happening. Virgil's eyes were wide with fear, his knees trembling, his hands covering his crotch. They failed to conceal the large wet patch that was quickly spreading on his jeans.

'Oh, sweetheart,' Patton cooed sympathetically, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

Virgil only just seemed to notice Patton's presence and he startled then quickly ducked his head in shame. His shoulders shook as a puddle gradually formed at his feet.

'It's okay, baby,' Patton whispered, rubbing his hand over Virgil's back. He gently shushed Virgil’s sniffles for a few moments as the boy’s pants and socks quickly became sodden. When the puddle on the floor finally stopped spreading, only a couple of seconds passed before a hoarse sob bounced off the walls.

‘Honey, it’s alright, I promise,’ Patton desperately reassured him.

He wrapped him in a tight hug and Virgil’s hands immediately clutched at the back of Patton’s shirt. The anxious sighed cried into his chest and the sound broke Patton’s heart.

‘It’s just an accident.’ He kissed Virgil’s head. ‘Don’t worry, sweetheart.’

Logan’s head suddenly popped around the corner a few feet away, clearly having heard some of the commotion. Patton watched silently as Logan’s eyes fell to the floor and the realisation quickly dawned on him. When he looked up from Virgil’s predicament with a concerned glance, Patton shook his head at him very lightly, not wanting Virgil to feel the movement. He didn’t want to see Virgil even more upset knowing that Logan had been witness to his accident too.

‘Mama is keeping Roman busy in the living room,’ Patton said over Virgil’s head with a pointed look at Logan, ‘and I’m gonna give you a warm bubble bath. Doesn’t that sound nice, baby?’

Logan tiptoed back to the living room without a word.

Unaware of Logan’s brief appearance, Virgil spluttered a little on his tears, the sound muffled against Patton’s shirt. It wasn’t an agreement, but it also wasn’t a denial so Patton took the small victory.

He eased Virgil out of his hold, holding him at an arm’s length as he wiped away his tears. It was pointless, though, as they just continued to fall with Virgil’s shaky breaths. Patton wished he could hold his baby until he stopped crying but he didn’t want Virgil’s skin getting irritated by his wet clothes. Plus, he was sure the poor boy wouldn’t want to be stood in his accident for longer than necessary.

‘Let’s go get you cleaned up,’ Patton smiled softly at him.

He wrapped his arm around Virgil’s shoulders to guide him towards the stairs, silently twirling his pointer finger behind his back. The carpet cleaned itself magically behind them.

Once they had reached Virgil’s bedroom, Patton left Virgil standing by the door while he speedily picked out a pair of underwear and pyjamas for him. He heard Virgil’s soft whimpers and sniffles grow louder and more frequent when he stepped away from him, so he was sure to make quick work of it before his absence upset Virgil any more.

He hurried back to Virgil’s side with the clothes and kissed his forehead tenderly.

‘Good boy, you’re so brave,’ Patton praised. He was forced off of Virgil by a firm head shake.

‘Bad,’ Virgil choked and hid his face in his hands.

Patton’s heart ached.

‘You’re not bad, little one,’ he said, crouching slightly so they were level. ‘It’s not your fault. I should have gotten you to go to the toilet earlier. I’m sorry, baby.’

Virgil shook his head again but didn’t offer any words. Patton assumed he had been pushed into a younger headspace and had gone non-verbal.

He led Virgil to the upstairs bathroom slowly, being careful with each step and rubbing his back soothingly the whole time. When they had reached the door, Virgil’s posture suddenly righted itself and he looked at Patton through his bangs. The older side was shocked to see a strange, distant look in his mismatched eyes.

‘I’m, um,’ Virgil’s voice was still slightly babyish, though there was a forced deepness to it. He quickly cleared his throat and took a deep breath, completely avoiding Patton’s eyes. ‘I-I’m older now. I can do this on my own.’

To say Patton was surprised would have been a severe understatement. Virgil never came out of his headspace so suddenly; even when he had made an effort to end his regression prematurely in the past, Virgil could pretend to be an adult all he wanted but it had been too clear that he was still mentally a child. Right now, he didn’t necessarily sound regressed but there was something wrong about it that Patton couldn’t quite pinpoint.

‘But - Kiddo, are you sure?’ Patton tried not to sound upset, though it was harder to keep the confusion from his voice. ‘You seem a bit off, Stormcloud.’

‘It’s Virgil,’ the anxious side grumbled, then grimaced at his tone. ‘I-I’m sorry, Papa… Patton . Thank you for helping, but…’ He held his arms out for his clothes, still looking at the floor. His hands were shaking.

Patton wordlessly handed the pile of clothes over, not knowing what else to do. He watched dejectedly as Virgil rushed into the bathroom and slammed the door shut without another word. The lock clicked instantly and Patton took a deep breath before turning away.

As the sound of water running started in the bathroom, Patton wandered through the hallway and into the living room, feeling disturbed by the interaction.

‘Patton, you can’t leave a toddler to bathe alone,’ Logan sounded mildly panicked.

He was sitting on the couch with Roman on the headrest behind him, braiding his hair.

‘He’s not regressed anymore,’ Patton said. Logan looked just as shocked as Patton felt.

‘He’s… But that never happens,’ Logan said, frowning.

Patton didn’t know what else to do except collapse wordlessly onto the couch beside him. He rested his head on Logan’s shoulder with a small sigh.

It wasn’t that he loved Virgil any less when he was an adult - he loved all versions of Virgil equally - but it felt unnatural for the boy to switch between headspaces so suddenly. It must have had something to do with the accident, but if anything Patton would have expected it to push Virgil further into his regressed mindset, not tear him out of it.

‘Is Virgil okay?’ Roman questioned.

‘Of course!’ Patton said in his usual bubbly voice, not believing his own words. ‘He’s just showering. Don’t you worry, little prince.’

‘But I heard crying before. What happened?’ Roman shuffled down from the back of the couch, sitting on the armrest and frowning over at both of them. When neither caregiver responded, Roman sighed. ‘I’m a grown-up now, you can tell me.’

‘Uh,’ Patton stumbled, pushing his face further against Logan’s shoulder as if he could hide from the question.

‘Nothing for you to concern yourself with,’ Logan said easily.

Roman huffed indignantly as he pushed himself off of the armrest and stomped across the room. He flopped into the armchair on the opposite side of the couch, pointedly facing away from Logan with his arms crossed. Patton couldn’t conceal his amused smile. Roman obviously wasn’t as grown-up as he claimed to be.

‘I care about him too,’ Roman mumbled. The pout in his voice was audible.

‘We know you do, kiddo,’ Patton reassured him. He felt guilty for making Roman upset, though he knew it was not a good idea to tell the creative side about what had happened. ‘You’re such a good big brother. It’s just… not polite for us to talk about Virgil without him knowing.’

Roman turned his body to squint suspiciously at them. After a moment, he seemed satisfied and smiled.

‘Okay. Do you like Mom’s hair?’ he asked excitedly.

Shaking off the brief shock from the sudden change in subject, Patton lifted his head from Logan’s shoulder to look at Roman’s handiwork. A braid circled the crown of Logan’s head, intertwined with a few daisies from the backyard.

‘Aww, how beautiful,’ Patton gushed.

He raised his hand to stroke along the strands of hair, twirling some loose tendrils around his fingertips. He wanted to comment on how soft Logan’s hair was but paused when he saw Logan’s shoulders were tense.

‘S-sorry,’ he quickly dropped his hand. ‘Should’ve asked to -’

‘No! No, it’s,’ Logan cleared his throat. Patton swore he could see a faint pink dusting his cheekbones. Logan’s lips twitched into a small smile as he briefly met Patton’s eyes before looking away again. ‘It is… acceptable.’

Patton dropped his head back to Logan’s shoulder, hiding his own blush. He didn’t miss the smug smirk on Roman’s face before he closed his eyes, pretending to take a nap.

A few minutes passed by with only the sound of Steven Universe playing on the TV, supplemented by Roman singing along with a musical number. After the ending credits song, Patton heard the TV click off followed by Roman’s whining protest.

‘We can watch more tomorrow,’ Logan’s voice rumbled through his chest and Patton breathed deeply with the comfort of it. ‘It’s nine o’clock so that means no more screens.’

‘Fine,’ Roman sighed, but Patton knew he wasn’t nearly as put out as he was trying to sound. ‘Can we listen to a book?’

Patton opened his eyes with a smile. It had become an almost nightly ritual for all members of the family to sit together and listen to an audiobook to wind down before bed.

‘Of course,’ Logan said. Patton loved the way Roman’s face brightened.

‘Yay! Ooh, can we have Paddington Bear? No, Winnie-the-Pooh! Oh, wait, wait, wait,’ Roman yelled, clearly getting bombarded by more ideas.

‘Hold on, kiddo,’ Patton laughed, ‘how about we ask Virgil to choose between those two? Then you both made the decision together.’

‘Yeah!’ Roman clapped his hands in excitement then something caught his eye outside the open door. ‘Virge, you’re back! You gotta help me pick a book!’

Patton heard a shuffling outside the room and lifted his head from Logan’s shoulder so he could hear better.

‘Oh, really?’ Virgil’s voice sounded soft and wobbly. ‘Uh, a-actually I’m suddenly tired. So, I-I’m probably gonna…’

‘Oh,’ Roman’s face dropped and his eyes followed what Patton assumed was a retreating Virgil. Roman turned a sorrowful look back on his caregivers. ‘Did I say something wrong?’

‘I’m not sure,’ Patton said honestly, just as confused.

He felt Logan nudge his shoulder and he looked to him in question.

‘I’ll talk to him,’ Logan said.

‘Thank you,’ Patton whispered and shifted to allow Logan to get up.

Logan offered a firm nod then quickly rose to go and follow Virgil.

Watching him leave the room, Patton sighed and hoped Logan would be able to figure out what was going on with Virgil better than he could. For now, Patton just focussed on getting that kicked puppy look off of Roman’s face.

‘How about we get some hot cocoa before your Mom can tell us off about it?’

oOo

Logan walked up to Virgil’s door and knocked gently.

‘Virgil? May I speak to you?’

He spoke quieter than usual, certain that Virgil would likely be in a state of distress from the incident in the hallway. There was a moment of silence before he heard a reply.

‘Yeah, sure,’ Virgil called through the door. His voice was distinctly uneven.

Logan heard a faint sniffling as he pushed the door open and was unsurprised to see Virgil sitting cross-legged on the floor in his softest pyjamas. Minty, his Triceratops plush, was clutched tightly to his chest. As Logan had theorised, Virgil did not look as grown-up as he had had Patton believe.

Logan closed the door behind him gently and lowered himself to kneel on the carpet a few feet in front of Virgil. He thought it was best to leave some space between them so that Virgil did not feel threatened in any way.

‘Patton tells me you’re not regressed anymore,’ Logan said. His doubt must have been obvious in his tone because Virgil immediately bit his lip and looked down to his lap. ‘Is this true?’

‘Dunno,’ Virgil whispered into Minty’s green fur. His voice was minuscule and Logan sighed.

‘Is this because of your accident?’

Virgil’s eyes went wide and welled up, his lip wobbling dangerously. It was all too obvious that he was in no position to have an adult conversation.

‘I don’t think you are grown-up, are you?’ Logan tutted gently. ‘How old are you right now, Virgil?’

The anxious side’s face crumpled and he hid behind his toy with a whimper. Logan quickly moved to kneel beside him, knowing he needed physical comfort.

‘No one is upset with you, I promise,’ Logan said, keeping his tone soft and quiet so as not to overwhelm him. He placed a comforting hand on the side of Virgil’s head and the younger side immediately leaned into the touch. ‘I know you wouldn’t lie to your Papa on purpose. You were just a little confused earlier, weren’t you?’

Virgil nodded into his toy.

‘Can you please tell Mama how old you are?’ Logan asked in his most baby-friendly voice.

Virgil slowly dropped the soft toy, looking up at Logan hesitantly. Eventually, he held up two fingers.

‘Only two? That is quite young,’ Logan said. He smiled encouragingly at Virgil and was happy to see the worry fade away from his gaze. ‘Much too young to be on your own. Do you want to come to listen to a book with me, your Papa, and your big brother?’

Virgil nodded and was millimetres away from sucking on his thumb before Logan quickly intercepted it.

‘Let’s get a pacifier for the baby,’ Logan said.

He patted Virgil’s hand then reached for the soft toy by their legs. He located the zipper sewn into the dinosaur’s back and opened the hidden pocket that was filled with various pacifiers. He held it open in front of Virgil for him to pick, and after a few seconds of deliberation, Virgil pointed to one. Logan took it out and held it in front of him.

‘Can you tell Mama what colour this is, Vee?’ he asked.

When Virgil was regressed, Logan liked to test him on simple questions such as this for several reasons: Firstly, it helped to establish a fun, educational atmosphere that Logan thought would be beneficial to his mental wellbeing. Secondly, it helped Logan to gather a clear idea of Virgil’s mental age at the time going by his speech and knowledge of certain things, proving beneficial to Logan’s understanding of Virgil’s regression. Lastly, it encouraged Virgil to communicate with him, which Logan hoped would be beneficial to their relationship.

‘Boo,’ Virgil muttered with a tiny smile.

‘That’s right, blue.’ Logan smiled back at him, knowing from experience it was an exercise in futility to try to correct his pronunciation.

He popped the pacifier in Virgil’s mouth without any fuss, then placed Minty back on the floor gently.

‘Light blue is your Papa’s favourite colour,’ Logan said. ‘Shall we go and show it to him?’

Virgil nodded and held onto Logan’s hand preemptively. Logan slowly rose from the floor and helped Virgil to do the same. He started to lead the way to the door but was stopped by Virgil tugging back on his hand and whining a little. Logan turned back in concern.

‘Is there a problem?’ he asked, then saw how Virgil’s gaze was fixed on the pile of stuffed animals on his bed. ‘Oh, I see,’ Logan said and walked them over to the heap of soft toys. ‘Can you choose a friend to come and listen to a book with us, Virgil?’

Virgil reached for his black cat plush and held it to his face with a smile, stroking the fur against his cheek.

‘Glad you could join us, Jiji,’ Logan greeted the toy and smiled when Virgil gasped.

Logan never made it obvious that he knew every single one of Virgil and Roman’s toys’ names. It amused him when they were shocked to hear him remember them so he kept up the pretence just to enjoy their endearing sounds of surprise.

Logan led both Virgil and Jiji back to the living room with a light heart.

‘Look who’s back,’ Logan announced as they stepped into the room and saw Virgil blush at the attention, hiding his face against Logan’s arm.

‘Aw, yay!’ Patton smiled brightly. ‘I missed my baby.’

Virgil looked up at Patton then pointed wordlessly to his pacifier. Logan saw a flash of confusion briefly cross Patton’s features.

‘Yes, that’s you,’ Patton said, obviously trying to guess at what Virgil was indicating.

‘Virgil picked his pacifier all by himself,’ Logan supplied with a surreptitious eyebrow raise. ‘Do you like the colour?’

‘Oh, yes!’ Patton said, suddenly understanding what Virgil had wanted to show him. ‘That’s my favourite colour, baby. It’s so pretty!’

Logan felt Virgil fidget under the praise. He shared a fond, amused smile with Patton.

‘Vee, you gotta choose between the two bestest bears ever!’ Roman yelled, all but bouncing in his seat.

‘Yes…’ Logan said but frowned at the high energy in the boy. He had not been so excitable when Logan left, so the logical side grew suspicious of what had caused the change.

Sure enough, his eyes landed on the chocolate coated rim of the Mickey Mouse mug in Roman’s hands. He gasped and shot a reprimanding look over to Patton. The moral side sunk into the couch looking as guilty as ever.

‘Patton, this is the time to wind down, not the time to consume sugar!’

‘But I made some for all of us, Lo,’ Patton countered. He indicated the coffee table where Logan’s NASA mug, Patton’s frog mug, and Virgil’s Jack Skellington mug all sat steaming, filling the air with the rich scent of chocolate. ‘Plus hot cocoa is technically warm milk, so it’s perfect for nighttime.’

Logan felt his reserve breaking when he realised how considerate it was that Patton had made some for everyone, but he remained steely. That is until Patton added with a sly smile:

‘I added a shot of hazelnut syrup to your one.’

Logan pretended to think it over for a few seconds.

‘Alright, I yield.’ He led Virgil over to the couch, encouraging him to sit beside Patton. ‘But Roman really should not be given dairy.’

‘Almond milk,’ Patton corrected with a victorious smile, accepting Virgil into his arms.

‘And Virgil is too young to drink from a mug,’ Logan added.

‘No prob, Bob,’ Roman cut in. He snapped his fingers and the Jack Skellington mug promptly transformed into a baby bottle.

‘Thank you, little prince,’ Logan said. He made sure to pay Roman due attention, knowing how important it was for Roman’s headspace to show that Virgil was not the only one who needed taking care of. ‘Where would you like me to sit?’

Roman’s eyes widened, apparently delighted that he was given such an important decision.

‘Over there,’ Roman pointed to the corner of the couch furthest from Patton. ‘Then I’m gonna sit next to you and Vee!’

Virgil hummed in content from his place beside Patton and nuzzled his face against his papa’s chest.

‘A very good choice,’ Logan said.

Before sitting down he moved over to the coffee table. He handed Patton the baby bottle and moved the frog mug to the corner of the table so it was within Patton’s reach. He nodded when Patton thanked him and grabbed his own mug, moving back to the couch to settle in the corner seat. Roman had already made himself comfortable, his mug empty and abandoned on the floor.

‘What will it be, Virgil?’ Logan asked. ‘A marmalade-obsessed bear from Peru, or a honey-obsessed bear from England?’ He took a sip from his mug and struggled to contain a smile at the warmth that radiated through his chest.

‘Nunny,’ Virgil mumbled through his pacifier.

Patton made an inhuman squeal of affection.

‘Honey,’ Logan echoed, unable to hide his smile now. It was undeniably adorable how Virgil’s speech was impeded by his regression. ‘Are we all ready for Winnie-the-Pooh?’

At the two shouted confirmations from Patton and Roman, Logan pulled out his phone to set up the bluetooth speaker. Within moments Stephen Fry’s voice filled the room with tales from the Hundred Acre Wood.

Roman clumsily wriggled his head under Logan’s arm to force it around his shoulders. Logan sniffed in amusement but acquiesced.

‘Do you want to hold the bottle yourself or do you want me to help you, sweetie?’ Logan heard Patton whispering during the introduction.

He looked over just in time to see Virgil pull Jiji up to hide his face. Patton’s eyes lit up and he giggled quietly.

‘Don’t be shy, baby. Papa’s here to take care of you.’

Patton gently took the pacifier from Virgil’s mouth and placed it on the armrest. Then he pulled Virgil onto his lap and held the bottle up to his lips. It was almost hypnotic seeing how quickly Virgil relaxed into Patton’s embrace, suckling rhythmically at the bottle. His eyes had fallen shut within seconds and a look of pure contentment settled over him.

Roman laughed at a part in the story and Patton looked up at the cheerful sound. He caught Logan watching Virgil and they exchanged soft smiles before Logan looked away again. Roman’s head fell onto his shoulder and Logan closed his eyes in contentment. He leaned back against the headrest, letting the sounds of the room blend into one calming symphony; Virgil’s suckling, Patton’s cooing, Roman’s giggling, and the narration sending him into a blissful sleep.

oOo

Reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated! ♡

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#ts agere #sanders sides agere #agere virgil #cg patton #cg logan #ts agere fic #little/big series #little accidents big developments #little/big series fics #agedre roman

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cottoncandyjester · 4 years ago

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kiseichū and dadzuku part 3

Okay so I needed a quick bnha writing cause my mind is craving bnha...sooo dadzuku and kise part 3

Also for those who care I dimmed down kise’s quirk instead of copying people’s quirk he copies any living thing’s physical properties so he still gains animal or plant traits from touching an animal or plant but with people it’s more their hair color or eye colors instead of their quirk

Part one

Part two

“I don’t get why the hell I had to go” bakugo hissed under his breath as the group took a small break from walking around the aquarium watching kise press his hands against the glass staring at the colorful fish while Izuku was explaining each of the fish to him. “Well you were the one who locked him in a room and almost starved him to death” kirishima mumbled out causally.

“Shut it dumb hair!” Bakugo snapped and scoffs eyes lingering on the kid. After a few moments of staring he flinched at Mina leaning against him“Izuku is really good with him. I think they’ll be okay so no need to be worried” Mina said softly causing bakugo to twitch with anger face red as he shot his eyes to the girl

“who said I was fucking worried?! Why would I care about some snot nose brat!?” Bakugo roared out before feeling someone tug at his shirt so he looked down seeing kise gaze up at him eyes droopy and his face mask up covering the bottom half of his face

“Come look at the fishes with me” kise mumbled out and bakugo wanted to say no so bad but before he could stop his body he was getting up letting kise guide him to the glass tank. “Zuku said that’s a rainbow fish, and that one is an angel fish” kise said softly.

“Hmph. Yeah yeah I see them” bakugo hissed out noticing how sleepy kise looked and he sighs scooping kise up into his arms. Bakugo used to absolutely hate kids..but there was something pitiful about this one that made him soften slightly.

“Woah you two are bonding!” Izuku chimed out making bakugo tense up and he full on tossed the kid to Izuku watching him panic as he caught kise in his arms “k-Kacchan!” Izuku snapped out in shock at the blonde. “Can we go now?!” Bakugo hissed and Izuku smiles widely

“Not yet I want to show kise something”

Kise perked up as the group all walked to a special area, they stood in the center surrounded by a tank that had hundreds of colorful jellyfish around them. The sight was absolutely beautiful and kise looked around eyes wide at the pretty colors “w-what are these?” He asked out and denki grinned “jellyfish! They give one hell of a zap!” He chimed out and kise felt Izuku put him down so he walked up to the tank with a soft hum

“Jellyfish...”

Kise looked back at Izuku a bright smile on his face which shocked the pro hero, he has never seen kise look so happy before and it made his heart swell up with joy. “They’re so pretty!” He cheered out before turning back to the tank infront of him hands on the glass watching them swim.

Kise left with a jellyfish plushie that day, hugging it close as he sat on izuku’s shoulders. His head was getting heavy as he hugged the plush toy close trying not to fall asleep.

“We should all hang out again! I wanna see kise more so don’t hog him deku!” Mina teased with a pout and Izuku chuckled as he separated with the group waving as he walked to the train station. He took kise off his shoulders and put him down, holding his hand to keep him from getting lost.

“Are you sleepy? You had a long day” Izuku hummed out as the two sat on the train kise leaning his head on Izuku’s arm now sleepily playing with the plush jellyfish “can we..go see the jellyfish again one day?” Kise whispers out and Izuku softly ruffled up his curly hair

“Of course! Anytime you want!” He cheers out with a grin. The two walked home and the two were...attempting to fix dinner.

“Hey, zuku?”

“Hmm?”

“Do I have a villain quirk?”

The pro hero flinched shattering the glass of olives in his hands..well looks like their pasta won’t have olives in them. Izuku frantically cleaned up his hand before turning to kise and getting down on his level. “Why would you say that?! Did someone say something?” He hissed out.

The boy looked down feeling a sense of shame washing over him as he hugged the jellyfish plush toy tightly in his arms. “I know it’s bad....I kill things. I don’t wanna be a villain ” he whispers out now tearing up and Izuku felt a concerned panic fill him. Kise was so smart and calm that sometimes he forgets that he was just a five year old little boy with a quirk that thrives on the execution of living things.

He pulled kise close hugging him tightly running his fingers through his hair with a sigh. “There is no such thing as a hero or villain quirk, anyone can be a hero even you” Izuku said softly and pulled back.

“Like you?” Kise questioned and Izuku grinned widely “yeah! Like me! You wanna be a hero just like me? We’ll have to come up with a hero name for you! And a cool costume! How about we work on it together?” Izuku chimed out as he wiped the boy’s tears away. Kise perked up and gave a smile before nodding.

Hours went by and Izuku carried kise to bed softly tucking him in before sitting down on the floor watching him sleep with a soft hum as he reached out brushing kise’s hair out his face while he peacefully slept. “allmight, I don’t know what I’m doing..I wish you were here. Please help me guide kiseichū down the right path” the pro hero whispered out leaning close kissing the boy on the forehead.

He had a lot of work to do if he was going to help kise master his quirk, Izuku walked out the room notebook in his hand as he smiled at the drawing of the hero costume. “A jellyfish themed hero costume..he must really liked them” he whispers out and let out a sigh.

“God, I really hope I do the right thing.”

#bnha oc #dadzuku #izuku modoriya #my hero acamedia #bnha #self insert

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heistmaster69 · 5 years ago

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pariet lilium

pariet lilium~by @heistmaster69

4th Year Draco Malfoy x OC fic.

~so uhh um I was maybe watching a video about dark academia while writing this and may have gotten a BIT carried away~

gif by @fairylightwishes all credit to them!

Frankie and Cher sat in the back of Potions class while Snape droned on about the effects of crushed versus shaved Bicorn Horn on the end result of a Pepperup potion.

“-now you see that’s exactly what I was talking about. Muggle movie stars are much more attractive than boys at Hogwarts-”

“Leonar-”

“-Dicaprio, yes.” She whispered.

“Frankie that man is gorgeous-”

‘So fine-”

Cher let out a sigh, while Frankie continued. “All the boys from Dead Poets Society-”

“So it’s decided then-”

“Yes. I’m saving my virginity until I’m of age and Leonardo Dicaprio can come and take it fro-”

“Miss. Reed.” Snape deadpanned. “If you and your friends would be so kind as to stop squealing about muggle boys in my class-I would appreciate it. That will be five points from Slytherin.”

Cher kicked Frankie under the table.

“My bad, professor.” She murmured, putting her palm under her chin and turning back to her notes.

Potions had to be her third favorite class, Frankie didn’t mind it at all, it’s just, she was a little distracted, recently. It seemed like her single-ness was beginning to get to her and she found herself daydreaming during class. She didn’t want to be as obsessed as she was, but Frankie couldn’t really help it. She wanted the movie-scene first kiss and the romance novel passion, as unattainable as it is, she craved it.

But the thing is-Frankie never let herself daydream about people she knew. In reality, none of the people she’s liked would ever like her back, and it just hurt her because she knew that no one would ever have feelings for Frankie as she did for them. Every time she let her walls down she got hurt.

A lot of the people Frankie has met have made sure she knows that she will never be as valuable, never as loved, as beautiful, as successful as others because she wasn’t as thin as others. Frankie loved herself. But her ‘friends’, her family? It seemed like they hated her for it...

Magic had always interested Frankie. Being a witch or wizard usually goes over the heads of purebloods, with the mere prospect of having the gift coming so naturally to all of them. Frankie’s isolated upbringing, rarely seeing her parents and being brought up by a strange yet kind tutor who instructed her in all sorts of topics, ranging from basic arithmetic to discovering Frankie’s magical abilities. Ms. Selwyn, around Frankie’s parents, and Kendra, during her tutoring sessions daily during childhood.

These memories with Kendra have a warm haze to them, and whenever Frankie reminisced, a smile would find its way onto her face. We would stand together in the garden, during the golden sunsets, and she would say;

“Magic is an incredible gift, it is beautiful and infinitely important. We hold the power of the universe in our hands.”

Young Frankie would stare wide-eyed, confused, and tug on the side of Kendra’s robe,

“Ms. Kendra, what’s the universe?” Frankie would ask.

“The universe is everything.”

“Everything? How much is that?”

Kendra would smile so gently and kneel down beside Frankie, grasping her small hands and gesturing towards the sky alive with color.

“More than we could ever know.”

Kendra knew the power purebloods held with the Ministry, after all, the Selwyns and the Reeds were a part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. The Ministry was still hypnotized by the status and the blood purity that these upper-class families held and overlooked the small laws broken by the elite, so Kendra and Frankie would practice small magic in their free time-in secret. The Reeds would never want their precious-little-delicate-perfect-pureblood baby daughter learning anything but the proper protocol for stuffy dinners with the Prewetts, the Malfoys, the Greengrasses, the Bulstrodes, the Parkinsons, the Notts, the Flints, or any other sort of perfect families that they could put in their larger-than-life estate.

Nevertheless, Kendra would take Frankie into the garden behind the mansion, near the rippling brook by a big oak tree. They would sit in the shade of the branches and Frankie would learn about everything her family didn’t want her to know. She learned about the inequality between purebloods, half-bloods, and muggleborns and as Kendra told her of the First Wizarding War, Frankie felt her heart shatter into a thousand pieces. How could someone think they were any better than another human being due to their blood? Their lineage? How they treat those supposedly ‘less than’? This realization caused a rift to form between Frankie and her parents-the entirety of what being Sacred 28 pureblooded perfection was.

She despised it.

Kendra warned her though, she spoke softly the words that shoved Frankie into a vault, locked her away, and threw away the key.

“I don’t know if this will ever change.”

Little Frankie blinked quickly, her wide eyes sore and puffy from tears. “Why?” She cried.

“They will never relinquish the privilege that this supremacy gives them.” Kendra let out a deep sigh and placed a tender hand on Frankie’s shoulder.

“I think you’re wrong, Miss Kendra.”

“I hope I am, Miss Frankie. I think you could make a difference.”

This upbringing of acceptance and wonder from Kendra instilled a unique view of magic in Frankie. She saw it as a privilege and took an interest in a side of magic that tended to be overlooked until necessary. Frankie liked to create spells and potions. Specifically, she had a fixation on wandless magic. It was crazy to her-she could create life from her hands. How so many of her friends and peers overlooked this, she understood but wished more people wouldn’t call people like her Loony Lovegood.

Anyways.

Frankie hid a tattered mahogany-colored, pleather-bound journal in her pillowcase. This journal rarely let the safety of her room, only transferring annually between her estate and Hogwarts. It was never shown to a soul, and it contained her life’s work in what could barely be considered spell-creation. Notes and random scribbles littered the pages, but if it were ever to be lost, Frankie would lose everything she’s done since she was six years, four months, and thirteen days old and Kendra told her about spell-creation. She thinks she would cry.

“Oi Francesca-” A voice called.

“-you’re not allowed to call me that, Blaise.” Frankie chuckled as he jogged up to her, stopping to lean against the wall with a smirk.

“I don’t care, you’re Francesca to me. Anyway, Potions, what happened in poti-” Blaise looked over his shoulder and shouted to Theo. “Oi Theodore, get your arse over here!” Blaise had a thing for using people’s full name-even if it’s not really their name, (ie Daphnessa/Pansleigh.) Frankie rolled her eyes as Theo strolled, shoulders taut, up to Blaise

“Frankie, what happened in Potions? You love potions, you’re always talking about how Potions is a really cool way to learn about how magic affects the world-”

“-Potions is a super cool way to learn about how magic affects the world-” Blaise interjected, wrapping an arm around Theo’s broad shoulders.

Theo turns to Blaise with a sarcastic stare at him. “Yeah, that.”

I want to have a stupid dumb kiss already. Which is stupid dumb and I don’t even care but I’m horny for love.

“Oh, yeah I-I didn’t sleep well last night.” Frankie choked out.

“It was kind of a relief, your constant enthusiasm about Snape’s class is alarming.” Theo snickered. Blaise snorted as he and Theo sauntered towards the Great Hall. Frankie let out a breath and followed soon after the two boys let for lunch to get to the common room.

Frankie’s boots tapped gently against the cold stone floor of the dungeons. Dust hung low in the air, illuminated by the amber glow of hanging torches that littered the walls. The dungeons are always shown as a dingy, disgusting place but Frankie found the common room comforting. She stilled in front of the entrance and spoke softly the password.

“Labebantur anguis.”

The wall dragged inwards with a low scraping sound, revealing her home. The estate is not a home, the estate is merely her stage, acting as the perfect daughter for an audience of haughty purebloods. This common room was perfect, smelling like pine and cotton and the perfect temperature. Green rugs and plush couches in front of a fireplace, tables and booths next to an espresso machine and a tea kettle. Arching windows and pillars showcasing the beauty under the Black Lake. This is home.

She stepped past the commons and walked up the winding stairs to the shared dormitories. Cher laid on Frankie’s bed with Daphne with parchment and quills set out on the emerald silk sheets.

“If you two spill ink on my bed one more time I’ll hex you in your sleep.” Frankie shrugged out of her robe and fell back onto Cher’s bed. The two girls giggled and returned to their subsequent conversations.

Cher was gorgeous. She radiated kindness and had an aura about her that made her seem impenetrable, yet she was humble. She had a crooked smile that never failed to bring one to Frankie’s face. Her eyes shone with emotion and were a deep brown that glimmered at all times. She was incredibly brilliant and the top of many of her classes. With the exception of Potions, Frankie held that spot proudly.

Everyone says that perfect Hermione Granger, the “brightest witch of her age”, is the top of every class, but ever since she had to use her time to deal with the two rambunctious children that are her friends, she holds strong at about fourth. Frankie had to admit, she had a burning jealousy of Granger. She managed to befriend Potter in her first year, as well as make friends with many of the teachers, ace her classes, and save the entire school three times by now. Not to mention, she was also very pretty. This envy flared its deep green color whenever Frankie so much as heard the name Granger.

“Earth to Reed?” Frankie snapped out of her covetous haze and met Daphne’s eyes. “Pansy’s bringing up lunch, get started on your essay, like, now.”

Frankie tipped her head in agreement and reached into her bag to pick out her Astronomy notes. “Five sheets of parchment? Is Professor Sinistra trying to kill us?”

“I think I might just use one sheet for every word: Sorry, I, Don’t, Want, To.” Cher counted on her fingers with a snort.

Daphne tugged at her bottom lip with her pinkie. “Maybe Frankie can use one of the spells from her secret journal to erase this essay from Sinistra’s mind.”

“That spell already exists, you toad.” Pansy swung the door open with several food items floating behind her, a slice of pumpkin bread levitating into Frankie’s waiting hands. “It’s called Obliviate, it has murderous side effects, and, next week it’s Reed’s turn to get the food.”

“Thank you Pans,” Cher cheered, mouth full of a danish pastry.

“Plus, the boys were bugging us to sit with them more often.” Pansy sat beside Frankie, parchment in hand. Daphne rolled her eyes.

“It’s one day a week, they’ll get over it eventually.”

“The students at Uagadou are so lucky. They have a good Astronomy program and they live in a cloud.”

Cher scoffed. “They don’t live in a cloud, Pans, They live in a castle-that’s on a cloud. It’s very particular.”

“I want to live in a castle.”

“You idiot, you do.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you bloody mean?”

“Nothi-whatever-what are we doing for Hogsmeade tomorrow?”

Draco. Bloody. Malfoy.

He walks around the school all high and mighty, like he owns the place, yet he acts like a right prat to many of its inhabitants. It’s like the boy was born with a stick up his arse. Yet, Frankie knew how he was raised, not that it’s an excuse. He doesn’t want to be the way he is, but he’s not some broken boy for her to fix.

She’s had many conversations in the common room with Malfoy after nights of nightmares. She’s shared hugs that linger a second too long and strange glances during lectures. His stone grey eyes held an emotion behind them that she couldn’t understand. It made her uncomfortable, the strange buzz on her skin where his hand met. The fluttery feeling in the pit of her stomach when they got too close. She didn’t like it. It made her feel like a creep.

She sees the way he looks at Cher. Frankie doesn’t compare to a golden, legs-for-days goddess with a waist the same circumference as Frankie’s thigh. Besides, a Malfoy should be with someone the same physical caliber as him. Frankie’s mother prayed to the ghost of Merlin that Frankie would blossom into a beautiful flower, but as her mother continuously reminded her,

“You are a disgrace. Nothing but a weed in a garden of perfection.”

It’s not hard to believe. Many pureblood parents held a disdain for their children in private. Frankie was lucky to have someone like Kendra. Other teenagers didn’t have anyone. Frankie was lucky, not special. A mere weed, removable by a weak pull. A thorn on an otherwise perfect rose, fit to be plucked, ignored by onlookers.

Draco Malfoy was never written in the stars for someone like Frankie.

Not that she liked him or anything. He was, as stated before, a right prat. A good looking one, but a prat nonetheless. They didn’t talk much, at all, instead seeking solace in the late hours of the night, a deep bond hidden from their friends. How could two people who were supposedly so perfect, be so broken?

pariet lilium.

chapter two

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animefan299110 · 5 years ago

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RWBY Christmas Party

Five years have passed since the defeat of Salem. It’s Christmas time at the Xiao Long/Rose house and everyone is bustling to get ready for the holiday party.

Yang: You almost ready for the party, sis?

Ruby: Yep, I can’t wait to see everyone again. We haven’t all been together since we saved the world; it’s gonna be great! (her face saddens) I just wish Oscar was here to celebrate.

Yang (hugging her sister): Hey, don’t be so sad. You know he’s got that job to do in Atlas. Besides, with any luck, he may be back for Christmas.

Ruby: I know, but it just won’t be the same without him.

Yang: Daaaaw, does little Ruby miss her Cookie?

Ruby (her face blushing): Yang, quit treating me like a baby! I’m 23 years old, for Remnant’s sake!

Yang (smirking): True, but you’ll always be my wittle baby sister.

Ruby: I AM NOT A LITTLE KID, YANG!!

Yang lets her sister go and laughs.

Yang: Okay, okay. Well, don’t stay up for too long. Everyone will be arriving soon.

Yang makes her way downstairs to see her dad hanging up Christmas decorations along the wall and Zwei walking around wearing a mini-ugly sweater. She smells something good cooking in the kitchen and walks in to see her boyfriend tending to the stove. She hugs him from behind and rests her head against his back.

Yang: So how’s the food coming, Lover Boy?

Jaune: Almost done with the roast. And no, you can’t have any before I serve it.

Yang (feigning a hurt look on her face): Jaune Arc! How could you think such a thing about me?

Jaune (rolling his eyes): Because I know you’re not one to shy away from my cooking whenever you get the chance.

Yang: True, your cooking is great. (smirks) But I’d say you’re the tastiest dish of all.

Tai walks in.

Tai: You know, you might be able to get the cooking done faster if you let me help you, Jaune.

Yang: And I keep telling you, Dad, that the only time that I will let you cook for me or any of my friends is when we are down to cockroaches and dry bread.

Tai: How dare you! Who gave you those delicious noodles when you and Ruby were little?

Yang: The noodles that were over-cooked?

Tai (gasp): Just for that, one of you gifts is getting returned!

Yang: Real mature, Dad.

DING DONG

Jaune: That’s probably them!

Yang: I’ll get it. (opens the front door) Hey guys! Glad you could make it!

Blake: Hi Yang, thanks again for inviting me, my parents, and Sun over.

Yang: As if I wouldn’t invite my partner, her parents, and her boyfriend.

Sun: It sure was cool of you to do this, Yang.

The Belladonnas and Sun enter the house. As they put away their coats, Ghira stares back and forth at various doorways and hanging decorations.

Blake: Dad, what are you looking at?

Ghira: Don’t mind me, Blake. I’m just trying to find any mistletoe that I can confiscate.

Tai: Don’t bother; I made sure that there wouldn’t be any this year.

Ghira nods toward Tai in appreciation.

Blake: Dad, we’re not kids anymore, we’re adults.

Ghira: True, but we are here to celebrate this holiday, not to have make-out sessions.

Tai: Exactly, and as long we’re celebrating it here, this house shall remain PG-13.

Ghira: Mr. Xiao Long, I seem to have some newfound respect for you.

Ghira and Tai shake hands and nod in respect for each other while Kali pinches the bridge of her nose and their kids give each other deadpanned looks.

Yang (to Jaune): I don’t know what’s weirder: The fact that they still see us as kids, or the fact that they think we wouldn’t have make-out sessions without mistletoe.

DING DONG

Sun: I’ll get it (opens the door) Neptune, buddy! Glad you, Weiss, and Penny could ma- (sees the position the two are in) Dude, why are you carrying Weiss in your arms?

Neptune: Well, the snow covered up most of the trail and Weiss didn’t want to get her shoes damaged.

Weiss: Of course I didn’t, these are very expensive shoes. I didn’t want them to get broken or wet.

Blake: Well, glad to see that some things don’t change.

Ruby comes downstairs, to which Penny takes notice.

Penny: Ruby! (tackles Ruby into a bear-crushing hug)

Ruby (weakly): Hey Penny.

Penny stands up.

Penny: It is so good to see you again! And thank you for inviting me to this Christmas party! I am certain this will be a splendid cele- (notices Ruby’s sad features) What is troubling you, Ruby?

Ruby: Oh, it’s nothing Penny. I just….I just wish Oscar was here.

Penny: I am certain he is fine, Ruby. He’ll probably be home for Christmas. Besides, one should never be sad during such a joyous and festive occasion.

Ruby: Yeah, I guess you’re right.

KNOCK KNOCK

Jaune: More guests! (opens the door to reveal the next set of guests) Guys; glad you could make it!

Nora: C’mere, you big lug!! (wraps Jaune in a bone-crushing hug)

Jaune (strained) Good to see…you too, Nora. *crack* Oh Gods, my ribs!

Ren: It’s good to see you all again.

???: Hey guys!

The others turn to see Coco, Ilia, Yatsu, and Fox behind Ren and Nora.

Blake: Glad you all could make it.

Ilia: Thanks for the invite, Blake.

Coco: We would have gotten here sooner, but we had to let a certain someone set the pace.

Coco, Fox, and Yatsu glance back at a woman who is six months pregnant and her husband slowly walking up the steps.

Jaune: Glad you two could make it.

Cardin: No problem, Jaune. Thanks for inviting us. (turns to his wife) Okay hun, just a few more steps.

The couple enter the house and Cardin helps his wife onto a plush chair.

Cardin: Need anything at the moment?

Velvet: Some water would be nice, Cardin. Oh, and some cold cuts!

Jaune: I can help with that. (to Cardin) I’ll show you where they are.

Cardin: Great. (whispers to Jaune as they head to the kitchen) I’ve heard of food cravings, but hers are on another level.

Yang (to Velvet): So, how many more months?

Velvet: Only a few. (rubs her stomach affectionately) I just can’t wait to see her.

Blake: I still can’t believe you and Cardin ended up together.

Velvet: It…was a bit of a shock to see him and have him apologize to me. Even more so when he asked me out on a date. But he’s gotten better over time. There are moments when he feels hesitant on trusting Faunus, but he’s better than he was at Beacon.

Blake: It’s something. (Directs herself to Coco and Ilia) So have you two been?

Ilia: Great; I’ve been helping with more Faunus rights groups without going to extremes.

Coco: And I’ve been going around Mistral helping with any Grimm problems. (Takes Ilia’s hand and smiles at her partner) On the plus side, we’re thinking about moving to Menagerie.

Sun: Really? That’s awesome! We’d be neighbors!

Ilia: Yeah, we figured it would be nice to be close to your parents and help them out in any way we could.

Coco: Plus, Menagerie’s got some great clothing shops.

Ilia (shaking her head): Not one to turn away from fashion, Coco?

Coco: You know it, babe. (kisses Ilia)

Meanwhile, in the kitchen…

Jaune: So Velvet’s a vegetarian, but the baby craves meat?

Cardin: Yep, and not just any meat. Specifically cold cuts; roast beef, turkey, ham, salami, the works.

Jaune: Look on the bright side, at least the baby’s not hankering for seafood.

Cardin (shivering): I don’t want to think about that. We’d be flat-ass broke if the kid did. (hears Jaune chuckling to himself) What?

Jaune: Nothing, it’s just…this situation between you and Velvet is kind of ironic. One day, you’re picking on her and calling her names. The next, you two are married and about to have a kid.

Cardin: Yeah, it’s a miracle that she even gave me a second chance. After everything I’d done not just to her, but to others…I sometimes feel like I don’t deserve any of this.

Jaune: We all deserve second chances, Cardin. Even you.

Cardin: It hasn’t been easy; I still have moments where I’m hesitant about trusting other Faunus. But…that’s when Vel’s there for me.

Jaune (handing Cardin a beer): At least there’s that. And she’s not the only one willing to help you, Cardin. We’re all here for you; you don’t have to be afraid to ask for help.

Cardin: Thanks, Jaune.

The two sipped their beer before Jaune holds up a paper plate with cold cuts on it.

Jaune: Duty calls.

Cardin (chuckling): No kidding.

As the party continues on, the guests preoccupy themselves before dinner. Velvet and Cardin talk with Yang, Jaune, Ren, and Nora about potential baby names. In the end, they come up with Jack for a boy’s name and Cottontail for a girl’s. Blake, Sun, and Neptune talk with Ilia and Coco about open houses in Menagerie. Tai has a deep conversation with Ghira and Kali about Faunus rights. Ruby, meanwhile, shows old family photos to Penny and Weiss, the former of whom is elated to see what her best friend was like when she was little. Around 6:20pm…

KNOCK KNOCK

Yang: Were we expecting anyone else?

Jaune: Not that I know of.

Jaune walks to the door and cautiously opens it to reveal…

Everyone: Oscar?!

Oscar: Hi; sorry I’m late. I just got back from my mis-

Ruby: COOKIE!!!!!

Using her Semblance, Ruby tackles Oscar, causing both to sail out of the house and onto the snowy pathway. Ruby lands on top of Oscar before peppering his face with kisses.

Ruby: What are you doing here? I thought you were gonna be gone for a few more days.

Oscar: I thought so too, but we were able to get the job done a few days early. So I figured I’d surprise you by coming home for the party.

Ruby: *sniff* This is all I wanted for Christmas: you being home.

Oscar: Glad your wish came true then. (holds up a plate) I also got you cookies from that bakery you liked in Atlas.

Ruby: Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!!! (peppers his face with kisses)

Yang (from inside the house): Hey lovebirds! How about getting out of the snow and into the house?

Ruby and Oscar laughs before she rides him piggy-back style into the house.

______________________

After the party…

Ruby: Well, tonight sure was a good turnout.

Oscar: Yep. Oh by the way, I know it’s not Christmas yet, but I wanted to give you this.

Oscar hands Ruby a rectangular box. Ruby opens it and gasps when she sees a necklace with a customized rose in the center. She flips it over to read “The most beautiful rose in the world” on the back. Oscar helps her by fastening the necklace around her neck.

Ruby: It’s beautiful.

Oscar (wrapping his arms around her back): Merry Christmas, Rubes.

Ruby (wrapping her arms around his neck): Merry Christmas, Cookie.

#rwby ships #rwby #rwby dragonslayer #rwby rosegarden #rwby blacksun #rwby renora #rwby color coordinated #rwby iceberg #christmas prompts #christmas party #rwby bird and the bunny #christmas cuteness #happy holidays

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katedrakeohd · 5 years ago

Text

This is for you @sirbeepsalot 🌹🥀🌺🌻🌼🌷⚘

I've had a bunch of asks in my inbox forever and need to finally get around to them. I was inspired by @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria and her one shot about Drake meeting Camille at her flower shop. I went in a totally different direction, but hopefully this little story is just as fluffy. 💗

....

Paint me a Picture 🎨🌷🌼

Drake hummed happily to himself as he stepped out of his office. He had just finished a conference call with his fellow council members finalizing the plans for Kate's upcoming baby shower. They had put off the party for the past two months amid fears of the Coronavirus spreading into Cordonia. Kate's due date of March 12th was fast approaching and they had reached the decision to reduce the guest list to under ten people. This suited Drake just fine because he wasn't much of a party person, plus Kate found too much attention and fussing around more tiring than exciting at this point.

Checking his watch, Drake realizes that his call had taken him well into the lunch hour and he was quite hungry. The plush carpet of the stairs muted his footsteps as he descended toward the main hall. He could feel the empty space blanket him in its silence, and he wondered where Kate, Hana and the corgis were.

When he had last seen Kate that morning she had been reorganizing the supplies in the nursery for the fourth time. He had chuckled at her restless nesting and kissed her on the cheek before leaving to make his phone call.

"Go get some fresh air and sunshine, it'll do you good."

Kate sighed, rubbing her aching back. "I guess so. I wonder what Hana's up to this morning."

Drake shrugged, "Send her a text to come get you and take your mind off baby stuff."

"Thanks, I will."

As he turned the corner toward the kitchen, Drake could smell toasting bread, and the delicious aroma of chicken soup. His mouth waters and he swallows, breathing deeply as his stomach rumbles. The sound of laughter, clink of plates and drawers opening and closing made him smile. Over the past 8 1/2 months the kitchen staff had become familiar with Kate's unusual cravings at all hours of the day. Early on she had wanted salty snacks, and then halfway through her second trimester her cravings had her wanting sweets, during the last month she had started combining the two in odd ways. It made Drake shake his head in wonder, but he obliged her desires. And if Kate was happy, Drake was happy.

Walking into the kitchen unnoticed, he sees the staff loading up a tray with a platter of sandwiches, and a pitcher of iced tea.

"Good afternoon Ladies," he says, and the laughing chatter amongst the women stops.

"Lovely day indeed, Your Grace." Marie the head cook replies with a smile.

Drake eyes the sandwiches on the platter hungrily. He could imagine sinking his teeth into the golden toasted bread, and hearing the crunch. "Are these for Kate and Hana by any chance?"

"Why yes they are. They're taking lunch in the sunroom. I can add another drinking glass and another plate if you'd like to join them."

Drake nods, "That would be wonderful. How about if I take lunch to them then?"

Claire, the young kitchen helper, protests as she sees Drake reach for the tray. "Oh my goodness, Your Grace, let us do that. You go on ahead and we'll bring lunch to you. "

Drake grabs half of a sandwich, "Well, if you insist. I'll just take this to go then, thanks."

Turning around to leave the kitchen Drake raises the sandwich to his mouth and checks the contents before taking a bite. Lettuce, tomato and a slice of swiss cheese. Not bad, but could use some bacon.

In the sunroom the atmosphere is that of a bright summer's day despite the dull late winter landscape outside. Lush greenery, tropical flowers and golden sunshine fill the space and give it a pleasant warmth. Off to one side, chair cushions are clustered together on the tiled floor. At the moment they're serving as lounges for sunbathing, sleeping, corgis; but earlier the cushions had served as a comfy surface for a gentle yoga session for Kate and Hana. Now the two friends were standing at easels and painting, chatting back and forth about what to hang in the nursery.

"So you and Drake still don't know if you're having a boy or a girl right?"

Kate nods, "As much as I want to know now, it's still a mystery. Our doctor knows though."

Hana purses her lips in thought as she dabs some blue on her canvas, "So do you mind if I paint a gender neutral landscape instead of flowers?"

"Not at all. I'm still sticking with flowers though. The ones in here are just too beautiful not to paint. If it doesn't suit the theme of the nursery I'll just hang it somewhere else."

Hana rinses out her brush, setting it aside and selects a different one to line in some happy little trees in a dark brown. "I suppose Drake is hoping that you have a little boy."

"He won't admit it, but of course he does. He's itching to go camping and fishing, to kick a football around, toss a baseball with a son."

With a shrug Kate draws in some green stems on her yellow daffodils, "Of course these are all activities he could do with a daughter as well. I remember tossing around a baseball with my Dad in the backyard."

Opening the door and stepping into the sunroom Drake is met by the wall of heat and fragrant scent of flowers. He immediately feels overdressed as a trickle of sweat runs down his neck. "How do you ladies stand it in here?"

Kate turns away from her painting to look at Drake, "Oh Hi Honey, welcome to summer in March."

Under the shade of her Sun hat, Kate is wearing one of Drake's old denim shirts as a painter's smock, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. There's a green smudge of paint on her cheek. Drake notices that it appears that she's wearing little else other than flip flops.

"Uh, Kate? Are you naked under my shirt?"

Kate giggles, covering her mouth, putting another smudge of green on her face. "No silly. I'm wearing a bikini top and shorts." She glances down at herself, "I can see it looking that way though."

Hana is wearing a short summer dress, and her own Sun hat. "You look a little warm there Drake. I wouldn't mind if you decided to take off your shirt."

Kate snickers as she goes back to her painting, "Yeah Honey, don't be shy."

Drake clears his throat, loosening his top two buttons and rolling up his sleeves. "I think I'll just open a couple of windows instead."

Kate watches Drake crank open a window, appreciating the flex of the muscles in his forearms. The fresh air blows the fabric of his shirt against his chest, making it stick to the sweat on his skin. She realizes that he isn't wearing a tee underneath. Probably why he was reluctant to remove his shirt in Hana's company. Drake notices her watching him and gives her a wink as he walks across to open another window. "So what are you ladies painting today?"

Kate feels the cool breeze brush the hair off the back of her neck and she shivers with delight. "Thanks honey, I didn't realize just how warm it was getting in here."

Drake does a quick bow with flourish of his hand, "Always pleased to be of service, Your Grace."

Hana giggles, "We're painting flowers and landscapes, to answer your previous question."

Drake settles down on the floor with the corgis, resting his elbow on a cushion and rubbing a belly as one dog happily rolls over. "I have the pleasure of informing you ladies that iced tea and sandwiches are also on the way, for our lunch."

Hana wipes her brow, "Anything with Ice in it would be welcome right now. I first experienced cold tea when we were in Texas for Savannah's wedding. I wasn't sure if I'd like it."

Kate sighs, "Mmm, I love lemony iced tea in the summertime. I miss it from being back home."

Drake's stomach growls again, causing one of the corgis to give him a look and then retreat to a spot in the shade, "Sorry Fluffers, didn't mean to disturb you. Don't worry I'm not hungry enough to eat you, close but no."

"I could go for a big bowl of spaghetti and meatballs right now," Kate says wistfully as she paints a tomato red poppy onto her canvas bouquet.

Drake groans, folding his arms behind his head as he leans back on the cushions and closes his eyes, "Oh stop, you're just making me more hungry."

Kate bites her lip, "Ooh, or pizza. A nice big slice of ole New York thin crust with extra cheese."

"STOP IT!" Drake barks out a laugh, chuckling as he wipes the sweat off his brow. "I ate half a sandwich on my way here, and it's really tasting like another half right about now."

Kate wipes her hands on a rag, "Ooh, what type of sandwich?"

Drake shrugs, "I dunno, there was cheese and some lettuce in there, maybe tomato?"

Kate kicks off her flip flops and walks across the warm floor tiles to stand over Drake, casting a shadow across him, hands on her hips. "And you didn't think to bring the rest of the sandwiches with you?"

Drake cracks an eye open to look up at his wife, his face scrunching up in amusement at her paint smudged face and raised eyebrows. "Hey, I tried to take the tray with me. But I don't think the girls in the kitchen trusted me to get the sandwiches this far without eating a few."

Kate nudges his leg playfully with her foot. "So true. We've all seen how much you like to eat."

Drake growls playfully, reaching out to grab for her ankle but she steps back out of his reach, "Can't help it if I'm a hungry man, c'mere you. I bet you taste like chicken."

"Nah ah, if I get down on those cushions with you I might never get back up. I'm going to wash up my hands and then take a seat over there at the table. Besides I think cannibalism is frowned upon in Cordonia."

Drake smirks at her and rolls over on his stomach, watching her walk away. "Mmm, golden fried chicken. You know how much I'm a breast and leg man."

Hana bursts out laughing, "Geez guys get a room."

Continue on to the next part

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daisy-constellations · 5 years ago

Text

Il Me L’a Dit, L’a Juré Pour La Vie - Part 22

Marinette didn’t think inviting Chat Noir in for milk would lead to this.

The heroes were 20 years old, in university, and it was now time to trust each other better than they ever did.

CHAPTER LIST

Rating: Teen/ Mature.

Angst and fluff, and all that good stuff.

Il Me L’a Dit, L’a Juré Pour La Vie - Part 22

Home

Adrien felt his back relax into the plush leather car seat as they drove off from the venue. He was finally on his way back to the hand he could already hear the bed calling his name, sleep hanging over his head. His ears were buzzing from the silence after a long night of loud sounds. He found so much relief in the quietness. There was nothing to him like the peacefulness in the car ride home after a night out; the low hum from the engine and the dark streets filled with streetlamps and colourful neon signs illuminating as they drove by. He rubbed his eyes, feeling the grit of the makeup products smudging off on his index and thumb. Aside from Nathalie informing them form the front seat that they would be departing in the afternoon for Paris, the car ride was silent.

The young man leaned his head back into the head rest and sighed deeply. This whole day was painfully extensive. After midnight, time seemed to have gone by even slower – it obviously didn’t help that he checked his watch every 5 minutes. He stifled back so many yawns, he was afraid that Chloe would call him out. At that point he was growing antsy and when Nathalie came to tell him it was time to leave, he nearly buried her in a bear hug he was so glad.

Just as he felt himself drift off, his father mumbled his name. He hummed in response.

“I’m really glad with how things turned out today. You did a good job,” Gabriel stated.

Without opening his eyes, Adrien murmured a thank you.

“I wanted to talk to you about the school situation,” Gabriel’s arm leaned against the car door and his chin rested perfectly on his hand as he stared out the window. He cleared his throat before continuing. Adrien looked over, somewhat awake again.

“I think it would be alright if you went to school, in Paris, for a program… such as business. I do not wish for you to stray too far away from fashion, but if you would like to take a program that is not fashion, that is fine with me. You certainly have shown you are more than capable these past couple of weeks.”

Adrien felt an excited grin erupt on his face, “Thank you father. I will definitely do my research.”

“I would like you to come to me with the school and the program beforehand for my approval,” Gabriel quickly glanced at his son before turning back towards the window. Adrien could have sworn he saw a small smile form on his lips, but the light shifted so quickly from the moving vehicle, it was hard for him to tell.

Nonetheless, his father was giving him the liberty he so craved. Despite having to work incredibly hard to reach this point, he was glad that something was turning around from this ordeal. He hated that his father still dictated his life despite being an adult now, but it was their family name on the line. His father was the reason he was where he was, so Adrien felt like he couldn’t complain too much.

“I hope we can work out a schedule that fits with your model duties as well.” Nathalie said, resulting in Gabriel nodding with approval. The car grew silent again, except this time Adrien was wired all over again. He had a shot at learning something else… doing something more. He tried to cover his delight by closing his eyes once again, but a smile still rested on his lips.

This good news gave him the boost he needed. He was going to talk to Marinette as soon as he got back.

---

Marinette shuffled around her campus in a daze. She was tired from the night before, barely catching a wink of sleep. She had spent her time in her bed tossing and turning to the point where her sheets were spilling over one side of her bed, and Tikki scolded her. The thoughts of facing Adrien so soon terrified her, but she needed to talk to him. She needed some sort of resolution, even if it meant he didn’t want her back. She just wanted them to be okay again.

Her classes were done for the day, the cold fall breeze whirled around her. She crossed her arms over her body, her long grey jacket not being sufficient for the cool weather, however, she was smart enough to bring a scarf, the long orange and red material hung around her neck gracefully.

She fidgeted with the backpack straps over her shoulders, the brown leather cracking at the bottom, but she didn’t care. She stopped by the stairs that lead down to the métro. She thought about Adrien coming home today. She knew he would be tired, but she needed to see him right away. This boy was driving her wild. She checked her phone for the time. It was nearing 5 o’clock in the afternoon. She didn’t know when he was coming back, but she would wait for him. She would wait for him forever if she had to. He was worth every second of her time, and she felt like a fool for making him think otherwise.

With a nod to herself, she marched down the steps towards the underground train, Adrien’s apartment as her destination in mind.

---

As the days got colder, the nights got longer – it was barely even 6 o’clock and the sun had already fallen out of sight. Chat Noir leaped over the roofs of Paris, one particular home in mind. He had transformed as soon as he stepped foot in his apartment despite Plagg’s complaints.

He pulled out his baton and used it to help throw himself higher in the sky. Despite the crisp air, he loved the time of the year when it wasn’t quite autumn anymore, but it wasn’t quite winter just yet either. His heart raced, adrenaline pumping through his veins every time he leapt over to the next building.

Despite convincing himself that he thought this would be a good idea, he couldn’t help but doubt his decision – Hell, Marinette might even push him out of her window again, but not with the same playful intentions like the last time.

He tried his best to ignore his fear of being rejected, or being pushed away. This was just a conversation to rebuild a hopefully just damaged bridge; not a completely burned down one. They were a team, and they could not afford to risk anymore danger to Paris by not fixing this mess.

They were a team for so long. It could not just end like this.

Finally, Chat Noir could see the apartment. There was only one light on, the one in the kitchen, just like the night that started it all. He saw a figure move around the room. His heart leapt up to his throat, as he realized what was about to happen. He swallowed his nerves down, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He pushed his hair back before moving carefully from rooftop to rooftop before skillfully landing on the small balcony. He knocked on the glass door cautiously. He waited and debated knocking again when suddenly the beige curtains shifted out of the way.

Alya stood there, confusion written all over her face which faded quickly when she saw who it was. She slid the door opened, “Chat! What are you doing here?”

“Hey Alya,” he raised his hand. “I see that you’re doing much better since that akuma.” He cursed inwardly, feeling like an idiot. In his rush over, he forgot that Alya lived here as well, failing to consider that she might also be present.

“I am, thanks. I’m glad to see that you’re also doing better,” She nodded politely. She wrapped her arms around her body. She waited for him to continue.

“I – uh. Is Marinette home?” He scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably.

“Marinette?” Alya’s narrowed. “No. I think she’s still at school.”

“School? Still?”

Alya paused, a shiver coursed through her, “Come in. It’s freaking freezing out.”

Chat obliged, following Alya back in the cozy apartment. She closed the door and leaned against it, crossing her arms again. He looked around the apartment tensely. It was still the same old place, but it hit differently this time.

“Look, I know you used to come here a lot before, but Marinette is going through some things right now. I don’t know what your intentions are with her, but as her best friend, it’s my job to make sure she won’t get hurt.” Alya was quite stern.

“No, it’s not like that. I just wanted to talk to her… That’s all.” Chat gave her a smile – the most dazzling one he could conjure up. Alya was still not convinced. He dropped it and caved in sheepishly.

She exhaled, “Fine. You can stay until she gets back. I have to ask you some stuff anyway.”

Shit, Adrien thought to himself. He did not want Alya grilling him for not being there the last akuma attack. He hadn’t thought up an excuse yet. “Well, actually…”

“I’m sure you heard about the akuma attack the other day…”

“Uhm-“

“You know, it was just Ladybug fighting it alone.” Alya started walking in his direction, hands on her hips. Something flickered across her face. She had that look in her eye, the one that Nino had told him about so many times. The scary look.

Chat took a couple of apprehensive steps back. He avoided her gaze, trying to find the best way to get back to the balcony door. He stepped sideways, circling around the other way. “Y-yeah…”

“I’m just wondering, where were you?”

He felt the hairs on his neck begin to rise. His eyes darted around the room for a way out. He honestly started to hope that Marinette would walk in.

“Did you do that on purpose or…?” The wheels in her head were turning. She was too clever, and Adrien knew it. He had to act quickly. He let out a heavy breath.

Chat straightened himself out, so that he would tower over her. He decided to fight back, “Alya, you shouldn’t be so pushy,” he teased. “Superheroes have personal lives too.”

She stopped, studying him up and down before leaning back. She chuckled. “You’re right. I’m too mean.”

“Besides,” a light bulb went off in Chat’s head, “I was injured. Ladybug didn’t want me to fight.”

Chat won this round.

“Damn. And you actually listened?”

“Barely. It killed me to see her fight on her own.” This part wasn’t a lie. The pain he felt in his chest when he saw the news broadcast the solo fight was next to unbearable.

“It was really hard to watch. The last few fights have been rough for you guys… Are you guys okay though?” Alya gave him a sympathy stare.

“I hope so…” He murmured. God I really hope so, he thought. He snapped his head back up. “Uh… Thanks for your concern Alya, but I do have to go. Tell Marinette that I was here, okay?” He reached for the balcony door.

“Oh, sure of course. Good to have you back by the way.” Alya tapped his shoulder slightly before he stepped back into the night. He leaped back on to the next roof over. Chat Noir sighed. That did not go as expected, but it went pretty well given the circumstances.

He didn’t want to stay in the apartment waiting with Alya though. He knew that once Marinette got back, Alya would be listening in to their conversation. The last thing he wanted was to complicate things like that.

He remembered how he used to go there before the duo had revealed themselves. He remembered all the times that Marinette would give him macaroons, or how he used to take advantage of going over by letting Alya interview him for her blog, just to catch a glimpse of Marinette scribbling in her sketchbook future designs. He remembered the time he fell asleep on their couch by accident, and was awoken by Marinette’s soft fingers tracing his jawline cautiously. He pretended like he didn’t notice, but now his heart was tugging at the memory. She was different after secondary school, but different in a good way. She was comfortable with who she was. He was always captivated by her.

Adrien thought about where Marinette could be. Alya said she was still at school. He wasn’t sure if Marinette would still be there, but decided to swing by the campus anyway. The school campus wasn’t too large, so scanning the area didn’t take too long – he even checked through some of the windows, as casually as possible, to see if he could see her inside.

After waiting around for a while, he headed back to her apartment, this time heading for Marinette’s window instead, but her room lights were still off. Defeated, he decided to head back to his own place. He let go of his transformation in a nearby alley, knowing Plagg was exhausted. He stopped by a small grocery store, picking up a few items to stock up his empty fridge since he was away. He also bought some cheese for Plagg. Not his favourite brand, but it was the only thing that was going to make him calm down. Besides, he deserved it.

Eventually, he found himself hitting the button for his floor in the elevator. Once it reached his level, it dinged and the doors slid opened. The familiar hallway caused Adrien’s shoulders to sag as he started to make his way to his apartment door. Plagg flew out from the pocket he resided in, “Ah, finally. Home sweet home.”

“You can say that again,” Adrien mumbled. He watched as he pulled out his keys from his pocket while he balanced the bags in his arms.

“Oh,” Plagg began.

“What?” Adrien questioned – but once he looked up, he knew the answer right away. Plagg zipped through the door and into the apartment, leaving Adrien.

There sat Marinette in front of his door, her knees pulled into her chest and her cheek rested in her arms, eyes closed. Her features were peaceful; her chest rose and fell indicating her relaxed state of slumber. His own chest swooped down to his toes, a mixture of excitement and uneasiness intertwined. He stood there, watching her, unsure what to do. He was thinking about what he would say to her when he saw her the entire plane ride home, but here she was and all his cohesive thoughts just slipped away into a puddle in his head. None of the carefully crafted words and phrases came to mind.

Finally he placed his groceries by the door and knelt by her, softly tapping her shoulder, “Hey.”

Her eyes fluttered, “Adrien?” Suddenly, they snapped opened once she took in the blond boy inches by her. She pulled back, nervousness erupted. “Adrien!”

“How long have you been here?” He asked, his chin nodded in her direction.

“Uhm, I don’t know. I…“ She cut herself off. She didn’t know what to say to him now that he was actually here. He waited.

She scrambled to her feet to get out of the way, “I’m sorry. You must be tired and just want to get back. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” He eyed her, straightening himself out as well. He breathed out a sigh of relief, and then let out a soft laugh. “I have been looking for you and you were here this whole time.”

“You… You were looking for me?” Marinette pointed towards herself.

“Yeah.” The corners of Adrien’s lips tugged upwards slightly. Marinette almost melted right then and there. Oh how she missed him.

The space between them grew still, neither one of them wanting to speak first, to move first. Adrien stood by his door and Marinette was across from him, back against the wall. Adrien was visibly tired, yet his eyes shone again. His cheeks and nose were pink from the cold outside. He twisted the keys in his hand absentmindedly. His gorgeous hair was flopped over messily and Marinette resisted the urge to reach over to fix it, her fingers gripping onto her scarf instead. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears, the hammering rhythm not showing any signs of slowing down.

He wanted to see her. He was looking for her… but for what? He was smiling, but that could mean anything. There were so many types of smiles. A soft smile showed distinguishable similarities to a sympathetic one. It was sometimes hard to tell which was which.

She swallowed thickly. The last time she had seen him, he was battered and bruised. She also spoke the forbidden three words before leaving him like he was nothing. But here he was. Adrien had smiled at her again. Something she didn’t think she would get back. Something she had convinced herself she didn’t deserve.

She thought she was doing the right thing by breaking it off with him, but she just made things worse. She was just scared. It hurt to think that their love could cause damage, but it hurt when they were separated as well. She still believed that they were putting everything in danger by being together, but seeing Alya bounce back after the fight, she had hope that things would be okay.

Finally, she blurted, “We’re like fire.”

This caught Adrien off guard, his eyebrows furrowed. “Oh, uh…”

Marinette raised her hands, “Let me explain,” she exhaled shakily, averting her gaze to the ground “You and I. We’re like fire. When it’s not taken care of, it can go crazy. It can cause pain…”

Adrien’s features dropped. He didn’t like where this was going. He squeezed his keys tighter.

“Fire can be overpowering once it gets out of hand. Us together… We are fire. The thing is, when fire is controlled, it is beautiful. It’s warm. It’s safe.” She continued, “I feel like we let the fire go a little wild, with all the mess that had happened. But still, how I reacted...” She paused. Her words didn’t seem like they were making sense anymore.

“I’m sorry for the pain that I caused you these past couple of weeks. I know I don’t deserve you after the things that I said and the way that I acted. I had a lot of time to think, and then I realized I couldn’t be myself without you by my side.”

Marinette felt a tear trickle down her cheek, she reached up to wipe it away. She looked at her fingertips where the water had transferred. She heard Adrien’s keys clink in his hands as he moved them back into his pocket. She was afraid to look at him, but she knew she had to. She closed her fist tightly before raising her eyes to meet his. They were wide, shocked; his lips slightly pursed. She held his stare, forcing herself to pour everything out. Adrien felt a tingle shoot down his spine as he tried to bore his own sentiments as best as he could.

“What I feel for you is indescribable. I feel like we can control this fire. I feel like our fire can be the beautiful kind… and I’m willing to try again.” Her blue eyes were fixated on Adrien in front of her as her voice broke at the last few words. She felt more tears fall.

The air in the hallway was heavy and cold, but Marinette’s skin was burning. Her hand was still closed in a tight fist. She had quite literally emptied everything that was stored in her heart in every way that she could. Even if he didn’t want her back, she knew she said what needed to be said. However, Adrien was still stagnant, hands to his sides, the same wide doe eyed look adorned his face. She waited for something, but he was unmoved.

She didn’t want to rush him. She told herself before arriving that she had to accept the possibility that Adrien might not reciprocate her feelings, but now that she was there, she was panicking. All the mental preparation was not nearly enough. She could hear her unsteady breaths, her tense shoulders rising, nearly touching her ears. The walls felt like they were closing in, abating the gap between her and Adrien. She wished the floor would crumble under her feet and she could disappear into nothingness.

Marinette couldn’t take it.

“I-I’m sorry, that was too much…” She murmured and headed for the elevator.

Adrien was quick to block her way and she bumped right into his chest. He grabbed her shoulders to steady her. “Mari…”

“Stop. Just tell me how you don’t want me.” Her lower lip quivered. She wanted to cry even more, but she was so sick of it. She was tired of not being strong enough. She reached up and wiped her wet cheeks with the back of her hands. She wanted to be strong for him.

Adrien’s grip on her shoulders tightened; her petite figure trembled under his palms. “Imagine not wanting to be with you Marinette Dupain – Cheng.”

“I spent my whole evening looking for you,” He slid his hands down her arms. “I had so much to say to you… but I don’t even know where to begin after all that.”

“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have taken your feelings so lightly about our identities. I’m sorry I left you to fight that akuma alone. I didn’t even tell you I was leaving…” Adrien spoke softly. His thoughts came to him deliberately. Marinette’s words had caught him off guard, and even though he knew he would never be able to conjure up anything like she did, he wanted to make sure what he said was clear.

“Even though I was hurt, I couldn’t shake the thought of you.”

Marinette shook her head from side to side, her hair swaying over her shoulders. “I don’t believe you.”

“I knew you were hurting too,” he sustained.

Her fingers captured the fabric of her scarf again to stop her from covering her face, still watching their shoes. He was wearing his Comme Des Garçons converse; the shoes were worn out but clean, like most of his shoes.

“You’re lying,” she mumbled to their feet.

“And yet, you’re still listening.” He finally responded.

The elevator made a small rumbling noise down the hallway as it was being used, moving to another floor. Marinette didn’t want to look up. Adrien was right there. Was she allowed to touch him? She could smell the familiar leather and laundry scent he always carried. Her heart ached at the comfort she felt by it.

Adrien exhaled a breath he didn’t know he was holding. His hands were feeling clammy – he wasn’t sure what he was saying was right. Her voice was broken when she spoke, it pained him. He wanted to ease her. He wanted to say something that ignited her the way that her words had left him.

“You’re the reason I find any motivation to do what I need to do. You’re my fire.”

Marinette’s heart burst. Her eyes widened as his words resonated in her head.

Adrien’s hand started to come up and his fingers rested under Marinette’s chin, nudging her face to look up at his. Her cheeks were completely flushed, her lips apart, astonishment written all over her features. She finally willed herself to take in the boy in front of her. She took in everything she could – she was sure that this had to be dream. His golden hair tumbling in front of his electric eyes. His lips broke out into an affectionate smile. The one that only she ever saw.

Adrien brought his head down towards hers. Their noses brushed against each other and his breath was hot on her face. He hesitated. He began pulling away when suddenly Marinette laid her hand over his chest. She leaned back up towards him.

“I love you,” she managed to spill out tenderly.

Adrien’s heart fluttered. “I love you too,” Adrien’s lips grazed over hers as he spoke.

He pressed his mouth down on hers; the heat exploding deep within their chests. The kiss felt like they were being engulfed by flames, the touch of their warm skin was dangerously intoxicating. Marinette’s small hands gripped Adrien’s jacket pulling him closer as his hands looped around her waist. Their lips moved slowly, trying to find their rhythm once again. Adrien had forgotten how much he missed the taste of her sweet lips.

Marinette was first to pull away. She was breathless, her exhales tickled over Adrien’s chin. He kissed her cheek before nuzzling into the crook of her neck, pulling her up in his arms in a tight embrace. Standing on her toes, her arms circled around his neck and she had never felt so at home.

“Adrien…” She murmured into his ear.

“Yes,” he replied pulling back to look at her.

“I…“ She began.

“Shh,” Adrien leaned in to kiss her again. He knew she was going to start apologizing again, but she didn’t need to anymore. There was nothing to be sorry about anymore. They had found each other again.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous #ladybug #chat noir #adrien #marinette #marichat #ladrien #ladynoir #adrienette #au #alternate universe #aged up #season 1

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the-y-generation · 5 years ago

Text

Not My Type (Chapter 6)

Summary: “Do you know how you stop a craving? You give in to it.”

When she signed on to be a road manager, she had no idea it was going to be for one of the biggest bands in the world, much less how they were going to turn her life upside down, nor how she was about to flip theirs too. Especially one irritating frequently-late vocalist who knew exactly how charming he could be.

Pairing: Idol!Jimin / Manager!Original Character (I personally haven’t written in “y/n” format, so I just gave the reader a name, but barely even mention it)

Genre/Themes: fluff, angst, friends with benefits, friends to lovers

Rating: M for this chapter

Warnings: Protected sex, Jimin being an adorable smartass

Status: Ongoing (Masterlist)

When Jimin stirred the next morning, he found the space next to him empty, though still warm. In an infinity of a moment, a torrent of thoughts came and passed his muddled brain – did she leave already? Does she hate me? Did we fuck up?

“Are you up?”

Her voice sparked him to full attention and Jimin quickly turned, as fast as his aching bones allowed, in her direction.

She was already partially dressed, last night’s underwear on and her blouse half-buttoned down her torso. Even from his upright position in bed, a good few feet away from her, Jimin saw the purplish bruises on the underside of her jaw. Without prompting, his mind immediately conjured up memories of last night – her skin, her moans, her coming undone for him. He couldn’t fight the smirk that tugged at his lips.

Knowing him well, as if she had a direct link to his imagination, she knew where his mind had gone. His mischievous smile was infectious, and she found herself laughing out loud. The odd pair stared at each other and laughed, finding amusement in their ridiculous situation.

Her morning brain was muddled from last night’s affair, body crying out for her to climb back into the warmth of Jimin’s bed. But the logical part of her, the part she successfully suppressed last night, came back with a vengeance. It immediately nagged her about the band’s tight schedule for the day, but also chastised her for the sweet soreness between her thighs.

When the pair’s laughter died out, they both stayed rooted in their own spots – Jimin smiling softly at her, still naked in his bed, while she reciprocated his kind expression, half-dressed by the curtained windows.

Truth be told, neither had been in a situation like this before.

“I’m sorry,” Jimin said, breaking the comfortable silence.

A knife twisted in her gut, deducing that he already regretted the events of the night before. She schooled her face into a cool nonchalance, but Jimin still saw it. The pain in her eyes.

“Your neck.” He continued, gesturing to where he stained her skin. “That’s going to be a bitch to cover.”

“What?!” She yelped, running to the vanity to check her reflection. Sure enough, a large purple bruise sat right over her pulse point like a big “Just Got Fucked” sign.

“Fuuuuuuck you, Park Jimin!” She yelled in frustration, facing the amused naked man.

“That’s exactly what you did last night.” He said, covering his face with his hand, as is his habit when trying to curb his laughter. But she was having none of his jokes right now.

“How could you?! I was so careful not to mark you last night, you jerk! Do you know how much concealer this will need?!”

“I’ll buy you all the concealer ever, I promise.” He cooed, trying to pacify her. Jimin lowered his hand from his face and put on his best pout, but the way his eyes sparkled with humor gave him away. “I’ll give you my own stash if you need it.”

“Ugh!” She let out another growl of frustration, looking ready to throttle him in a second.

Jimin was saved when her phone blared on the bedside table, immediately dousing the comfortable scene in cold water.

It was her morning alarm.

Normally, when he’d come to sleep in her room, it was his signal to leave and get ready. Today, it was the freezing wake up call of reality. They weren’t just two friends who had fucked and satisfied themselves last night. They were back on the clock as road manager and artist.

With a huff, Anna rushed to turn the deafening alarm off. She turned from her spot by the bedside table, finding the humor drained from Jimin’s eyes.

“You have an interview at 10am.” She said, quickly slipping into the authoritative role she’d gotten so used to in the past year.

“Oh yeah.” Jimin yawned, stretching his arms above his head. She felt the instinct to look away, not wanting to be hypnotized by the way his toned muscles pulled and rippled under his skin. But at the last second, she held his gaze, internally chastising herself for feeling like some conservative school girl.

Why look away when those same arms held her through her orgasm just hours ago?

Jimin smirked, letting her watch him.

“What’s the plan for today?” He asked, releasing her from his stare. She busied herself with redressing and collecting her things while he looked on, seemingly satisfied with his state of nudity under the plush covers.

“You have a series of interviews until lunchtime, then you’ll have some quick studio time in the afternoon.” She said as she strapped on her watch. “You’re not required to rehearse, but I booked one of the hotel function rooms just in case any of you need it.”

Then, out of sheer need to have everything clean, she picked up Jimin’s discarded clothes at the foot of the bed and began folding them neatly over the bed covers.

“You don’t have to do that, you know.” He reminded but made no effort to stop her.

“Your room is a mess, Jimin.” She countered, pausing only to cast a scathing glare at him. “I don’t get how you manage to make it look like a warzone when you’re only in it for a few days, and you sleep in my room most nights anyway.”

Jimin laughed, his eyes turning to crescents, but offered no defense for himself.

“Anyway,” She huffed, done with the task at hand. “I’ll see you at breakfast?”

She was worried that if she stopped moving, stopped talking, awkwardness would seep in. The gravity of what they had done would crash around them, and they’d have no way to pick up the pieces. But she found solace in the fact that Jimin looked wholly unaffected.

He smiled, looking every bit the Adonis he was. “See you at breakfast.”

With a nod, she jutted her chin up and dramatically marched to the door, earning another hearty laugh from him.

“Oh, by the way,” He called out, making her pause her hand over the doorknob. They were already out of each other’s line of sight, separated by the L-shaped room’s wall. “About your question last night?”

Is this just a one-time thing or…

She remembered all too well.

“What about it?” She called back, wincing at how her voice cracked at the end.

“If you need any help again, I’d still be a willing participant.” Jimin replied. Even without seeing him, she could imagine the cocky smirk on his face.

“I’ll let you know.”

True to his word, Jimin was a very willing participant.

But after several go-arounds between the sheets, many of which were initiated by him, it became apparent that this was for his satisfaction just as much as it was for her. He wasn’t kidding – he really did find something in it for him.

Just like tonight.

Barely giving her the time to lock the door behind him, Jimin pressed her up against the inside of her hotel room door, assaulting her mouth with an electrifying kiss.

“Hi to you too,” She murmured between his full lips, gripping his shoulders tight as he lifted her by her ass and wrapped her legs around his waist, pinning her between the hardwood and his body.

“Why do I need to say hi?” He responded, moving his head to splatter wet suckles over her neck and chest. “We just saw each other an hour ago.”

He was still in his navy suit, the one he wore for the TV performance they had recorded that evening. The boys stayed behind after dinner, chit-chatting with the show’s producers and staff. But the exhausted girl excused herself early, having deemed her mission accomplished, and emotionally drained from a long day of small talk and ass-kissing. Namjoon had it under control, she reasoned as she quietly snuck away, unaware of a dark pair of eyes following her retreating figure.

Once in her room, she quickly showered and got into her new silk nightgown, a recent splurge from last week’s day off. But before she could even get into bed, her room was invaded once again by a hungry Park Jimin.

The soft fabric of her nightgown was cool to the touch, a delicious contrast on her overheating skin as Jimin continued to kiss her senseless. The loose short hem gave Jimin easy access to whatever he wanted from her and left little to the imagination, not that he’d need any imagination to know what she looked like under it at this point.

She let out an airy laugh in response to his petulant comment, only for the sound to be quickly replaced by a loud moan. Jimin pressed his hardening length against her core, feeling the feverish heat of her against the front of his trousers.

“Fuck, are you wet already?” He breathed, more to himself than her, as he reached a hand between her legs to check. True enough, the fabric of her underwear was moist against his fingertips.

“If you ruin those pants - fuck” She gasped, biting her lip as he pressed a nimble finger against her sensitive spot. “If you ruin those pants, your stylist is going to kill you.”

“Don’t you mean you’ll ruin these pants?” As if to make a point, he ripped his hand away from her center, smirking as her involuntary whined at the loss of contact. Jimin gripped her hand by the ass, fingers digging into the clothed flesh, as he grinded into her even harder.

He buried his face in her neck, panting at the feel of her against him, while she clutched his shoulders for dear life. He wasn’t even inside her yet – hell, they weren’t even naked yet – but she could swear that he could probably make her cum just like this. If it were anyone else, she might have felt embarrassed at being dry-humped against the door of a hotel room. But with Jimin, it was different.

Everything was heightened, elevated, like sex was reverence and not just animalistic needs.

Jimin rotated his hips into her again, and she let out a needy groan as she threw her head back, letting it hit against the door with a soft thud. But just as she was ready to beg for him, she felt a sharp pang on the underside of her jaw.

“Jimin!” She hissed, lifting her hands from his shoulders to shove his face from her neck. “The last one just healed. You’re costing me a lot of concealer!”

He smirked, evidently comfortable in their current position., with her pinned against the door and his hands spread wide over her ass and upper thighs.

“I told you I’d just buy you more.” He chuckled, diving back in, knowing she wouldn’t really deny him. “And if you talk any louder, they’ll hear you on the other side of this door.”

He sucked in another ribbon of the sensitive skin on her neck, alternating sucks and licks to appease the bruising flesh. She let out another moan, this time evidently melodramatic to mock him.

“Tease.” He half-chuckled, half-groaned, against her skin.

She whined, scratching impatiently at his collarbone, hyper-aware that he had far too many clothes on. “Just move already, jerk.”

Taking the hint, Jimin pulled her tight against him, latching on to her lower lip as he carried her to the bed. He dropped her gently on the mattress, right on the edge so her head and lower back lay comfortably while her legs hung off it, thighs still parted from being wrapped around him.

She lay graceless, breathless, as she watched this ethereal being undress in front of her.

“Is this new?” Jimin asked, ravenously eyeing the silver silk covering her skin as he quickly discarded his coat and began working through the buttons of his dress shirt. “I haven’t seen this before.”

“Yeah,” She responded, still trying to catch her breath. He kicked his shoes off and simultaneously unbuckled his belt. “You like it?”

Jimin’s dark eyes flicked to hers, pupils blown wide with desire, as he pushed his trousers down, leaving him in only his underwear.

“I’d like it better off you.” He growled as he kicked the garment aside and bent over her, settling in his rightful place between her legs.

“Easy, that’s Dior!” She mildly joked about his haphazardly discarded clothes, lifting herself up only her elbows to meet him for a searing kiss.

Sometimes, Jimin liked to go hard and fast, teasing her past the edge, over and over again until they were both aching and barely mobile the following day. Sometimes, they moved slow and sensual, savoring the way she dragged him deep into her, both sighing and groaning through the heightened sensations. But she loved this the best – when they went at each other with equal parts feral lust and laughter. It was them, in the best form.

Pushing his face into hers, Jimin guided them backward until her head fell on the pillow. She sighed deeply, wrapping her legs around his waist and thrust upwards, relishing the feeling of his desire against hers. Gone were the shy timid movements from their first night. Her body was attuned to his now – what he likes, what he needs. And right now, he needs her bad.

Jimin’s hand traveled from her waist down, playing with the hem of her nightgown as he teased her tongue. She weaved one hand through his hair and scratched the other hand down his back, hips thrusting up to him in anticipation.

He chuckled against her mouth, heeding her desperate moans. He quickly slipped his hand under the silk fabric and cupped her core, feeling her wet heat on his palm. A sharp yet pleasurable pain shot through his chest at the realization of how much she yearned him, that she wanted this just as much as he did. It tends to happen a lot these days, but he’d brush off the sentiment before it took root in his brain.

With a powerful grace that only Jimin seemed capable of, he rid them both of all clothing barriers. It was weeks back, after their second time together, that she tried to convince herself that she’d eventually grow desensitized to his beauty. But that was utterly foolish of her. Now, several weeks into their…arrangement, he still managed to leave her breathless with a smile, a touch, a look. It was both devastating and arousing.

Jimin sighed as he settled between her legs again, allowing her to draw him close as they explored each other’s bodies with their hands and lips.

When he couldn’t take it any longer, and she was practically bullying him for holding out on her, Jimin momentarily pulled away to scrounge around for his trousers. Finding it at the foot of the bed, he pulled out a condom and quickly rolled it onto himself before moving back into her space.

“Wow, you really just came here for sex, huh?” She managed to tease, breathing heavily against his ear as he slipped two fingers inside her.

“Of course not.” He sighed, pressing their foreheads together as she bucked into his hand, chasing her pleasure. “What do you think of me? I’m here for my 3 S’s – sex, sleep, shower. Not always in that order.”

She rolled her eyes out of habit, but he barely saw it. She leaned her head back into the pillow and arched her back to pull him in deeper, inadvertently pushing her breasts up to his line of sight. With her eyes closed to regulate her breathing, she missed the burning way he gazed at her pleasured figure.

“Why are you making a habit of showering in my room anyway? I’m running out of-“

Without warning, he pulled his fingers out of her, only to be replaced a fraction later as he glided into her fully. He pressed hard into her in a single fluid movement, earning a guttural noise as she took him in and her body adapted to accommodate him within her.

“Fuuuuck, you feel so good.” Jimin groaned, easing in and out slowly to let her adjust to his sudden entrance. He cursed again when she squeezed him tight inside her. “I’ve been waiting for this all night. You in that dress? I thought you were trying to kill me.”

It wasn’t meant to be dirty talk. But she quickly found out that Jimin wasn’t one to hold back his thoughts.

She tried to laugh at his revelation, only to have it die in her throat when he thrust inside hard, stretching parts she didn’t know existed and drawing out her desire with every movement.

“Was that why you were zoned out when Yoongi asked you a question?”

He rolled his eyes and snapped his hips forward, making her whine with need. “Yeah, don’t talk about hyung right now.”

To make his point, he drove hard into her, setting a punishing pace that made her clutch at him desperately. Her nails scraped harshly against his back, enough to surely leave angry marks that will last for days. But she knew Jimin secretly loved it, and so did she. The scratch marks were her retaliation to his bruising sucks, just less evident, lest they risk the wrath of ARMY.

They moved in sync, pushing and pulling each other to climax. As always, he let her go first. Jimin held her shuddering figure against his body, maintaining his pace and stroking fast on her receptive bud to keep her over the edge for as long as possible. Stars exploded behind her eyelids as she convulsed around him, and she gripped him hard to ground herself.

As her breathing eased somewhat, he followed quickly and became undone. She smoothed his hair back, watching him relinquish all control and allow the tides to take him. She brushed lazy kisses over his cheekbones and ears as he rode out his high.

Just like the current state of friendship, sex with Jimin came as easy as breathing. While in previous romantic relationships, she always felt like she needed to appear extra sexy, stay in impeccable shape, and perform for them in bed to keep them interested.

But not Jimin. He took her just as she was – still obsessed with that spot under her jaw on days she felt disgusting, open when she wanted to experiment, and hellbent on pushing her to her high, sometimes several times in a night, when she felt at her most low.

No matter what – no matter how exhausted he was from a show, or how upset she was at him for being late again that day – he always made sure to leave them both satisfied. Even when it felt like she’d never get there, Jimin patiently worked on her pleasure points to push her over the edge.

And he didn’t shy away from the aftermath.

In fact, many of their best conversations were post-coital pillow talk, both reeling from their highs. They’d settle under the covers and face one another, searching for the other’s eyes in the darkness. Some nights, they’d giggle like children, throwing jokes or stupid movie reference. Other nights, they’d bare their souls, letting the night and the security of each other’s presence lull them into vulnerability.

“Sleep.” Jimin murmured now, already three-quarters asleep when he felt gentle fingers brush his hair away. With hooded eyes, he caught her hand in his and pressed it against his kiss-bitten lips. Then, to ensure she stayed still and quiet for the rest of the night, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, resting his heavy head against her soft breasts. Jimin fell asleep to the feel of her hand in his hair and the sound of her racing heartbeat.

They never talked about the rules of their arrangement; they were both old enough to know the basics. Don’t talk about it. Don’t be obvious. And don’t let it change anything.

But there was one rule they had to talk about. One that only dawned on her a few weeks before, after their third time.

It was a rare easy day with a pocket of free time before the boys had to go to rehearsals, so she opted to squeeze in a quick workout at the hotel. She was 30 minutes into her cardio routine when she saw Jimin, Jungkook, and Namjoon entered the gym. They left each other alone, knowing that she preferred to do it privately because it doubled as her “me time”. But just as she was wrapping up, she spotted Jimin by the water dispenser, chatting up a beautiful woman. She must have said something funny because he laughed, eyes scrunching up into their signature crescents. When it subsided, he looked at her with that fiery gaze that set millions of hearts aflame.

The realization hit her like a brick – what if Jimin sleeps with her?

He’d be well within his rights to do so. After all, he was single, and they never talked about being exclusive in their extra-curricular activities.

But was she okay with that? To sleep with a guy who may or may not sleep with several others?

At the end of the day though, Jimin did not sleep with that woman. In fact, he ended up in her room that night, first taking her hard and fast against the mirror of the hotel room’s vanity. And again, in the shower just minutes after, but slowly this time as she was already sensitive from their first round. Then one final time in bed, even slower with him buried deep inside her. He let her take charge on top of him and she barely moved him out of her, taking him deeper and making him lose his mind at how she felt on him, around him – hot and wet, sinful and heavenly all at once.

“Jimin?” She shyly called out from her side of the bed. The question sat heavily on the tip of her tongue, making the blood rush to her face in embarrassment. Jimin turned to look at her, but she averted her gaze, looking instead at the small beads of sweat that made his smooth chest glisten.

“Are you finally going to tell me what’s been bothering you all night?” He smirked, noticing the way she refused to look at him.

“How did you…?” Her eyes snapped up, wide with surprise at his accuracy.

“I know you.” Jimin replied simply, reaching over to tap a reassuring finger against her clenched fist. “I was just wondering if I’d need to make you come a fourth time to talk about it, but I’d be happy to hear it now too.”

“Why didn’t you just ask me?” She turned away from him, feeling betrayed that he knew all along and used sex to manipulate her.

“Because you don’t like to be forced into talking.” He laughed, slicing the distance between them. Before she could complain, his front was firmly pressed against her back and he molded her tense figure into his. “And I thought you could let off some steam. Didn’t you like it?”

Just for good measure, because he’s a charming bastard like that, Jimin brushed a sweet kiss against her ear.

“Do you fuck all your friends into talking then?” She responded, trying to remain stubborn in his hold. But they both knew she was quickly losing.

Jimin laughed heartily. Then shifting gears, he swiped his tongue slowly over the shell of her ear, causing her arms to erupt in goosebumps.

“So do I need to make you come a fourth time to talk?”

Knowing that the conversation was headed nowhere and Jimin always gets his way in the end, she turned around to face him. The fear and uncertainty in her eyes made his mischievous smile slide off in an instant, and he instinctively tightened his arms around her.

“What’s wrong?”

She took a moment to answer, knowing she had to tread carefully. The last thing she would want was to offend him or cross some unwritten line and ruin their friendship.

“Jimin, are you clean?”

There were no words to described how he looked at her. Jimin simply blinked, unsure of how to respond. But he knew her, and he knew that wasn’t really what she wanted to ask. It was the question before the actual point she wanted to make.

“Yes, I am.” He answered slowly, keeping his breathing in check. A part of him wanted to rip her a new one for entertaining the thought that he wasn’t. But another part, a bigger one, was more concerned about whatever thorn she thought was in her side. “What are you trying to say?”

She sighed and pushed at his chest, trying to pull away, but Jimin wasn’t having any of that. He tightened his vice around her waist, keeping her in place.

“Just that-“ She huffed, giving up and letting him pin her down. “I know we never talked about this. We never agreed if this will be an exclusive thing or whatever, so I’d get it if you were interested in…being with other people. But I want to be safe, okay? So, if you want to be with someone else, I’m going to have to put the brakes on this.”

Jimin let her speak, proud of himself for holding his tongue despite the bazillion moments within those sentences that he felt like cutting her off. It was worth it though, seeing the relief fill her once-burdened gaze.

Noting how she kept her eyes away from him, Jimin bore his stare right at her, steady until she mustered the nerve to look back at him.

“I respect you.” He whispered, as if afraid that the shield of the night would break at the sound of his truth. “I respect you and what we have, and I’d never do anything to risk this.”

It wasn’t the solid yes or no answer that she was expecting, but it was so much more than she could ever hope for.

That night, she slept soundly against him, warm with his body heat. She was blissfully unaware of how Jimin stayed up all night, mind racing with thoughts of the slumbering girl in his arms.

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smolbeandrabbles · 6 years ago

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Gluttony: Sugar - Nolan Sorrento x Reader (Ready Player One)

Author’s Note: 🙌🙌🙌 I want to personally thank @alotofrandomfangirling for finally. FINALLY making Nolan Sorrento produce something from my brain...

Well, okay I guess this idea came from YOUR brain, but here we ARE!

You also mentioned his office (Oh. You just knew EXACTLY what to say...!) So I’ma introduce you guys to that Head Canon of mine for those damn wine bottles now...!! 😍😍😍

I also want to thank Maroon 5 and Maren Morris for having songs titled exactly the same to the point where I COULDN’T. COULDN’T choose one. It was also completely by accident. This was all Maren’s until I didn’t specify it was her lyrics I wanted to look up...

So THIS is a 2-song fic. Happy days! It’s kinda cool though cuz we also get some POV Male/Female stuff going on with both so...

Did I take the “Sugar Daddy” thing too far... Yes?? Do I care. NO.

Disclaimer: As usj I don’t own anything but the writing that came from my head. Characters not mine. Plot not really mine either! #Requests Premise (As Requested): Nolan Sorrento: where he likes to spoil the reader and always ends up buying tons of delicious and expensive food for the both of them. I think since Sorrento is very rich, he wouldn't mind spending lots of money on fancy food and he would probably buy anything that makes the reader happy (i really didn't want to say the words "sugar daddy", but i guess it's really close to it 😂😂) and maybe he can bring food to his office! We both know we have a thing for his office lol Words: 5559

Warnings: Sexual Pre-Amble (it’s not overly smutty but... SINS!) / total over indulgence / If anyone has a problem with the whole Sugar Daddy/Sugar Baby thing you probably shouldn’t read this...? / Maybe a tinsy bit of angst..?

Boy I’ve been cooking up one hell of a crush I’ve got you on my mind the minute I wake up You make the morning glow... get my juices flowing You know I got the spice but it ain’t enough Baby would you be my sugar, sugar? Make my heart race, even on a good day You make the world taste better, better Good on anything, want you on everything Just a little bit is all it takes Like a Coca-Cola on a Christmas Day You’re what I crave babe, what can I say? Would you, would you, Would you be my sugar, sugar? Tried the fake shit but it ain’t the same A girl just knows when it’s the real thing Yeah I’m a cup of tea with a touch of cream but something’s missing So I’m gonna put this nice and sweet -- I'm hurting, baby, I'm broken down I need your loving, loving, I need it now... You got me begging, Begging, I'm on my knees... And I gotta get one little taste Your sugar, Yes, please Won't you come and put it down on me I'm right here, 'cause I need Little love and little sympathy Yeah you show me good loving, Make it alright Need a little sweetness in my life... ...Don't leave me hanging, hanging, Come give me some When I'm without ya, I'm so insecure You are the one thing, The one thing, I'm living for I want that red velvet, I want that sugar sweet Don't let nobody touch it, Unless that somebody's me I gotta be a man, There ain't no other way 'Cause girl you're hotter than southern California Bay... --- noun 1. habitual greed or excess in eating.

You couldn’t believe how nervous you were. Maybe you were just excited? That was probably it. The way your heart hammered in your chest as the sleek black car drove you through Columbus towards IOI Plaza. Seeing Nolan was usual. But Nolan calling you all the way from his apartment to his office? You’d never been to his office before.

You’d been in IOI plaza before. In loyalty. Only, Nolan Sorrento thought you were far too pretty to be in loyalty. So he’d offered you two choices. Either you could work for him as a Sixer. Or you could do this. What he didn’t know was that by offering you this he was also offering you your wildest dreams. You weren’t from the stacks, but, you certainly weren’t from his world either. Caught somewhere in the inbetween… The pocket of people who were not corporate material, but also… weren’t the poverty-stricken limits of Columbus those in corporate liked to pretend didn’t exist. But that also made you pretty invisible, being neither one nor the other. That ignored middle ground – unless you got yourself thrown in a loyalty centre. Then Nolan Sorrento hadn’t ignored you. You knew exactly who he was; the steel grey, steel blue, tailored suit, lean, smooth voiced smart mouth who usually popped up on service boards around the globe promoting something for IOI. And made you feel things you didn’t think you’d ever felt for a man of his age. And you revelled in his attention. As he did in yours you supposed; such was the nature of your relationship. But you weren’t supposed to act like you craved his attention, only like you wanted to be there. Oh and you wanted to be there alright… Walking into the IOI offices you recognised immediately why you’d been called here. The board that hovered about everyone in the OASIS as a constant reminder that no one had actually got the First Key in 5 years was also present here. Only, now there was one name on it. And it wasn’t his. You bit your lip – you weren’t sure you were going to like Sorrento if he was having a bad day… Did you even know what that was like yet? You knew what he was like when he was frustrated and he came back to his apartment. Because he would hand you his card and have you go out and buy whatever you wanted. Or he would sit you down and you would both choose things for you. Because seeing you happy made him happy – apparently. But that was just work frustrations. This… Was something entirely different. Your escort, one of his many assistants, left you at the bottom of a set of stairs with a smile – which you returned. Taking a deep breath you glided up the steps to his office in your heels, still watching the board curiously. Who was Parzival? No. Maybe that wasn’t the correct first question to ask. You knocked to a soft hum and “Come in!”, so you entered. “Heyyyy…!” The smile on his face couldn’t be bigger “Just the person… I needed to see.” You bit your lips together and let the door go, trying to suppress your smile for just a second. You needed to see him too… He stood, rounding his desk and crossed to you; “Did you have a good day?” You nodded “Good enough.” “Good…” He stopped in front of you, but he didn’t touch you. This relationship had boundaries of its own. And he had to get clearance from you to do so. That was torture enough in itself. You didn’t think it was appropriate to ask him the same question; “…May I ask why you called me here?” What couldn’t wait until he was back home? He shrugged; “I could be working late. I didn’t think it was good for me to get lonely… Please… Darling… Sit…” He indicated to plush chairs arranged neatly around a black glass coffee table. As he did so, his hand ever so slightly brushed your back. It was enough to give you a small shiver of delight. “You could just have sent me shopping?” There was a reason he wanted you here. “Is that what you want, Darling?” He pulled his wallet out of his pocket, making you instantly shake your head. “Not particularly… Not today, anyway.” Nolan was smiling again, you weren’t sure what it was about buying you things that he liked so much. Maybe he thought he was buying your attention…? Or your love..? You were sure he’d suggested the idea because he wanted you; that he wasn’t convinced you could ever want him. Part of you wanted to tell him he didn’t need to… Part of you took enjoyment out of the fact that he did. You’d never been in a situation where you could have exactly what you wanted when you wanted it. Money wasn’t supposed to buy happiness, and you always had to force yourself to remember that, but… gratuitously… You thought it could get damn close sometimes. “Good. Because I thought perhaps I could treat you to dinner?” He was asking it as a ‘would you mind if I showed you off at dinner’ question. You were glad you’d opted to wear a nice dress. Mind you, you always wanted to look nice when you saw Nolan anyway… “Of course you may. Where are we going?” You had to check “Is this okay?” He sat opposite you, crossing one leg over the other “Darling, you always look fabulous. No one else in that room is going to compare to you.” But then he steepled his hands together, like he was about to make a business proposal “But. No… I… meant here.” Dinner here?! How did that work. “Oh!” You knew you looked surprised “Okay…” He smiled again “Everyone should be leaving work soon, if you wouldn’t mind waiting here. I shall be right back.” He stood “Are you sure you don’t want this…?” He pulled his card out of his wallet and indicated to the tablet sitting on his desk; “Not even for your avatar?” You stood, taking the card from him and studied it for a minute, before giving him a teasing smile and sliding it into his shirt pocket. Tapping it gently “No. It sounds like you have ideas of your own.” He walked over to his coat stand and pulled down his heavy navy overcoat. The collar stood out in black and it hugged him nicely. You bit your lip; he always had to shrug out of his suit jacket to put it on. As he was doing right now. The muscles in his back strained gently across the quality of the fabric of his blue-grey shirt. Boy oh boy did he have no idea what he did to you. He slipped the coat on and there it was again; that fit across his shoulders. You could hardly stop yourself smirking. He retrieved his car keys from his desk and continued talking without facing you, “Alright... I shouldn’t be too long gorgeous. Sit tight okay?” “I will...” He smiled at his desk and locked his desktop. You took a breath. The temptation was too great to resist “You always look sexy in that coat.” He froze, with one hand on the door to his office and his gaze swept to you, finally.

His face read a multitude of things. He looked halfway to a blush... except his eyes; they had this wicked glint about them that told you that you’d taken a well calculated risk. “Thank you.” Was what Nolan’s voice said, almost level. But there was hints that he was quite perplexed. Technically he paid you for your affection. But he didn’t pay you for compliments. You snuck them in, rather than showered him in them, to make sure he recognised that you meant every word. But, you always meant every word.

Your mobile buzzed gently in your lap and you smiled knowing, looking to the screen of the IOI technology. ‘Sorrento: Call Me’ He could have called you but he always liked you calling him, mostly so he could leave his phone in the most conspicuous place possible and have your picture flash up and everyone ask the same question; “Who is she?” But he was in the car. So... that wasn’t the problem. Maybe it just gave him an ego boost seeing your name appear... You appeased him anyway; “Hello?” “Hello… Darling… I should have asked before I left, I’m sorry…” You heard the smile in his voice, and you could see it as clearly as if he was still here. “I wanted to ask you want you want… I’ve got a few ideas but, it’s only polite that I ask you. As I asked you to dinner…” Dinner was really the last thing on your mind, and you almost smirked… You honeyed your voice, with just the right smile to make sure that he could see yours too; “Sweet things, Sugar.” You rolled your tongue over your lips to leave just the right length of pause “Right now I’m craving something… sweet.” It was right there in his response, how it made him feel. How your use of Sugar held far more than just one significance. “Okay.”

Back in his car this time Nolan Sorrento did flush bright red, and loosened his tie, letting the window down just a little. Oh my god... he couldn’t help but wonder if that voice was filled with promises? Or just you teasing him again... he liked it when you did that. It was playful. But it was also always affectionate. He knew you meant it, when you looked at him with those eyes of yours, that little smile on your face. How behind the tease in your voice was the honest clarity that you hoped he would catch... He was observant, so he did. Nolan bit his lip gently and took a deep breath – eyes flicking to his navigation system “…I know just the place…” *

When Sorrento returned to his office you were sitting in his rig, legs swinging lazily over the side, your dress pooled in your lap, showing them gracefully off. Your heels were in your right hand, dangled off the edge of the seat. You had a touch of class that he liked. He was carrying a stack of boxes piled according to size and many done up in multicoloured ribbons, in his other hand a carrier like the kind you’d find in a luxury fashion brand store when you purchased something. And you knew a lot about those now.

Across the side in script was “Token of My Confections” It piqued your interest. That sounded like he’d picked it on purpose. So you smiled. But to him you lit up his office. "…So. Sweet can still get healthy. But I didn't go for a complete sugar rush cuz... Y’know... Balance." Then he smiled across to you as he set everything down, "annnd the calories? On me... Eh...." He gave a sharp intake of breath, "my metabolism isn't what it used to be." Nolan’s idea of exercise and yours were at least similar. And from time to time you would also see him in a track suit walking around his apartment. The Same NS IOI stamped across it as featured so often on his ties. Yet, there was no real exercises equipment around, so you wondered exactly what he did. You didn’t ask, and he was never that bothered in telling you. However... it was a lot easier to unzip a tracksuit jacket and take a shirt and tracks off than it was undo a tie and all those damn buttons...

Still, either way, you liked a challenge. He got half way through shrugging his coat off before you sat up, swivelling in his rig you crossed to him to help him do the rest. Allowing you to run your hands across his chest and down his arms. He afforded you a gentle groan for your efforts that you would keep for yourself. “Thank you.” Nolan tilted his head and watched you run back to his coat stand to hang it up; “You didn’t have to do that” “But I wanted to...” You walked yourself back to him. One foot then the other. Almost cat like. And he watched you, virtually expressionless. But you saw the change in his breathing. The way his lips parted. "Do you want some help?" "No... It’s okay darling, please sit." He indicated again to the plush leather seats, as he had when you'd first walked in. "Let me do this for you."

You didn't protest, but you mirrored the smile he was giving you. As sweet as what you hoped was in those boxes. You couldn't help it. Sometimes he was borderline adorable. You wondered how many people knew the ruthless CEO of IOI like you did... Nolan'd stated a bunch of times he'd do anything to win Halliday’s contest but... Whenever he was away from the office... You wondered if anything, he could have more limitations than he would ever let on. Was that ruthlessness fabrication…?

You opted to lounge yourself on the couch, so then he could sit next to you, rather than across from you. You knew by the look on his face he was thinking the same thing, as he pulled gently at the box ribbons. He never took those steel blue eyes from yours. If you could dream it, he’d probably bought it. And when Sorrento said ‘healthy’ what he really meant was Fruit was included. There was just one box he left unopened; “Nolan, you can’t expect me not to ask what’s in that.” “Never you mind. That’s for later.” “Later?” You questioned as he relaxed himself into the seat next to you; “Yeah. Dessert.” Your face clearly read amused; “Dessert?” Your eyes flicked from what already seemed to be beyond dessert and back, to him. But Nolan couldn’t hide his own joke from you and pretty soon the smile on his face became a full laugh. “Okay. So. Second dessert. Whatever…” He pointed to the box, “Point is, last.”

You decided that sitting like this with him so close to you was just a shade boring. Probably not for him; but he was patient and a good man, Sorrento wouldn’t touch you without asking. And certainly not without you letting him. Most of the time he would let you initiate contact, but, you usually let him take it as far as he wanted to. Right now, Nolan was content to have catch-up conversation. He considered every question you asked him carefully, and gave your every word his undivided attention. You offered him the same, always. You were here because that was what he wanted. Someone who actually cared about him. Someone who would keep him company and actually listen to him when he had days like this. He paid you to do that. Sometimes you wished he didn’t. Sometimes you wished this was more real – but then, it struck you that this must have been real. Because you knew how you really felt about him… And were you not certain that he might feel that way about you too? But you were paying off a debt being here; if you told him what you really wanted, what would he do with what you still owed IOI…? “…What about the competition…?” Eventually you had to voice your observation of the leader board. “Oh. No. That’s okay. There are 3 challenges… Not the one, and this guy isn’t clanned up. It’s fine. We can still do this.” “You’re not upset?” “It’s disappointing.” Sorrento gave a shrug “But, no…” he chuckled “I’m sure the board will have other ideas. But… Sitting here right now that’s hardly a concern of mine… When was the last time you were in the OASIS anyway…? What gets you so concerned about Halliday’s challenge?” “… You …” It was sincere and it struck his heart too, the worry in your eyes. “Me?!” he chuckled again and then his face almost fell; “Oh-! Oh you… Do you think that’s why I called you here-!?” You didn’t want to say yes or no. You did, but it was clear that if you said ‘yes’ he’d be hurt. Nolan was already trying not to show hurt on his face – but it translated very well to his eyes; “No, no, no, my darling, I would never do that… I just… wanted to see you…” “I know.” Did you? “…I didn’t mean to insinuate that you would…” That allowed you to make a move though, leaning your body into his you wrapped your arms around him and rested your head on his shoulder. He settled into your embrace with a smile; cuddling you into him further Sorrento let out a gentle sigh as you kissed his neck. Oh… okay…! It felt good, he had to be honest, after a long day that you would ask him about it… that you would do this for him at all… He always made the same encouraging noises whenever you touched him like this. As if he was subtly asking you to never let him go. You wondered if it was because he could never ask you out loud. If, just like with this competition, that would show something in him he never wanted anyone to know. But you saw right through him – Nolan Sorrento was vulnerable. Asking you something like that, or losing this game would show weakness. But you didn’t understand why he found that so bad? Because he was the CEO of the second biggest company in the world? Because the board expected him to be so ruthless? That only made you dislike his company – if Nolan Sorrento wasn’t the man on all those billboards, why did they allow him to be? Why did he force himself to be…?

You pondered this as you nuzzled yourself further into his body; entwining your legs with one of his, you snuggled into his chest. The subtle encouragement from you was for him to wind his arms further around you, to continue to pull you closer to him – and of course he did; because he wanted that. Tangling his fingers into your hair. “Hold up-! I don’t want to get crumbs everywhere…!” Nolan finished the sweet in two quick bites and swallowed, and then his fingertips were brushing your skin – and you let out a different kind of sigh than he had. Than the sigh his made as you ran your fingers into his hair. Every touch you afforded him was sheer bliss. And too often you wondered why he kept himself from that… Sat on him (lets be honest, now on him.) like this you suddenly found yourself facing his extensive collection of wine bottles. Sat behind a glass case, well back lit. You knelt up on him in an attempt to read the labels you were squinting at. Why would he keep wine bottles in his office? Displayed in such a way? Were they for clients? Were they to celebrate the successes of IOI? “What?” He asked gently, hands now respectfully on your waist rather than your thighs. He swivelled his head to follow your line of sight; “Oh. Yeah.” You were tipping your head to try and read the names, still to no avail, he pushed gently; “Go on darling… Go pick one.” “Huh?!” You looked down to him, to that small smile he was giving you “Oh-! No, I -! Just wanted to know what they were.” “- For special occasions. So…” He smiled again “Go pick one.” You couldn’t keep yourself from leaning down; “Special occasions?” “I think so.” You couldn’t help the small laugh, before you kissed him; it was tender and seemed to hit you with a sugar rush that you were fairly certain you were already on. The way Nolan groaned gently into it, again, and let you take his hands in yours. You broke it far too quickly, but you were intrigued by what was so special about them, and hopped from his lap.

He sat up to watch you run over, analysing them all eagerly; “…What is so special…” You were trying to make any kind of connection between them… The dates… The places? Campania was a word that came up again and again… Aside from that, you could guess that the bottle marked 1999 was his birth year. He didn’t exactly keep his age a hidden secret. You turned to him, “What is Campania?” “ Campania.” He repeated it with an Italian flare you couldn’t hope to replicate, but that also sent a delightful shiver up your spine “It’s the region in Italy that the fair city of Sorrento is located in. Pretty great for wine.” He also added the flair to Sorrento and saying his own name like that almost made you let out something a little more vocal. You had no doubt then that this man was fluent. You had to turn back to the wall of bottles to hide your smirk – hell, wasn’t Italian one of the Romantic languages? Why hadn’t the name ‘Sorrento’ made that click for you!? “…And the dates?” “Important years.” “I guessed ‘99.” “Aha-!” His laughed was slightly embarrassed. “…The year I joined IOI… The year I became CEO… It’s all up there.” “So... Which one am I supposed to pick?” “Darling, the choice is yours.” You pulled a bottle down, “It’s gonna leave a space?” “I’ll get another. I’m not worried about that either. I want to share one with you.” You smiled and walked over to him. 1999, Sorrento, Campania. Red. “Age is just a number.” You put the bottle down, “Glasses…?” This time he stood, with a slight smirk; “I got this.” You pushed yourself onto your toes to brush your lips to his teasingly; sinking back with a raised eyebrow coupled with a smile; “Oh. I have no doubt.”

You moved across his office in stages, (making sure not to leave a trail of crumbs as you did so!) as you made your way through both everything he had bought and a bottle of wine. Which was beyond good. It wasn’t like he was picking just any bottle with the year 1999 stuck on it. It demanded to be sipped, not drunk. You started back on the sofa; but you moved to the rig if only because his data pad pinged and he needed to fire off a couple of emails. But Nolan still held you close, and then started scrolling through a website to show you these bottles for himself. You sat and tousled his hair as he did this; loving the feel of it through your fingertips – at the way he laughed but never asked you to stop. He was clearly something of a wine connoisseur… But he wasn’t overly obnoxious, as he sipped his glass, he kept telling you what you were supposed to be tasting – but there was nothing pretentious to it. More like he was giving you a whole history about a region of Italy you could only dream of, but presumably where his family’s ancestry could be traced back to. And there was not a thing he mentioned that you couldn’t taste. You noted as he made a purchase to replenish the shelf, how damn EXPENSIVE the bottles were. You looked back and counted them again, wincing at how much money was sitting around waiting to be drunk. You knew he spent on you, that maybe that was his way of trying to show you affection… But you knew he could love… Maybe he thought he wasn’t any good at it. Maybe everything he loved left? You glanced back to Nolan as he excused his attention from you to write another email. That would change a person… Maybe his heart had been so broken, that buying love kept him safe? You shook your head to yourself; you would change that. You would show him that he could love. And he could love you.

Now you were sitting back on his desk, and he was relaxed in his office chair. And finally he’d opened that last box “OH MY GOD!” “See, best for last!” “That’s red velvet cake.” “Yeahhhh… Cuz you only go on and on about it…” You nudged him gently; “It my favourite.” “I know darling. I know…”

He’d neglected and subsequently silenced his work. But it had been nearing 5pm when you had arrived, and although you hadn’t looked at a clock since then, you knew that it must have been getting well on into the evening. You were glad he was allowing himself respite. He deserved it. Nolan Sorrento worked hard and played hard. And was playful with you even now, the way he let you almost feed him a piece of cake before you would lure him into a kiss. That would last for just about an appropriate amount of time. And he let you do it again and again before he chuckled; “You know I am actually gonna want a piece of that at some point this evening.” “Aren’t you full!?” “No.” He sat back and tipped his head, with another smirk that threatened to un-calm your heart. “…Are you?” You shook your head, devouring another forkful and turned back to the box; he made you feel slightly bad about it. So you cut him a piece and handed him the plate. “Oh? A whole slice. I should be so honoured!” He took it with a grateful smile, that extended to his blue eyes. “Well, I feel if you’re sharing your special occasions wine with me…” He chuckled and took a forkful for himself – “True…! Oh. Mm-! Gorgeous!” Though he made sure he wasn’t looking at the cake as he said this, but you. That only made you blush, and you were sure about it. Shaking your head as if to forget it. Nolan was now repeatedly tracing his fingers over your legs, as your feet rested in his lap, with his free hand. And each mouthful of cake was thoughtful. You took a breath to match the relaxed feeling, but you had an idea you needed to voice; “You know, what we really need is ice cream...” “Ice cream... really?” His voice edged teasing and he gifted you with another cocky little smirk. Your eyes widened in genuine excitement “You have some?!” He gave a shrug, toying with you, as you had him “Maybe…” He sighed, “I couldn’t possibly say!” “Nolan-!” He held his hands up to calm you down, but looked amused as he walked over to another cupboard in his office. Just like a mini bar at a hotel, this was built into the rest of the furniture. You were almost in disbelief that this was actually happening; “You actually have ice cream.” You watched the way his gorgeous blue eyes flicked from shelf to shelf, illuminated by the harsh light; “Yeah; what flavour though… This is kinda limited…” “Vanilla.” Otherwise the ice cream would threaten to overpower the cake. And that would be no good. “Vanilla…?” He let the question linger for a second “That seems a bit tame.” You didn’t notice it at first; “It’s the only one that’s gon-” You paused. Did he just-? Had he just-?! He noticed you’d noticed at the way he was smirking at his fridge; blatantly refusing to turn back to you. You folded your arms and opened your mouth; but you weren’t sure there would be any words to do the moment justice. What was he saying…? There was something niggling you about that sentence. He was telling you you could stop it if you wanted. You could say something and put a stop to it right now. You didn’t want to.

He walked back and set the tub on his desk; “Now we just have to wait for it to melt appropriately.” The way his eyes remained locked on yours let you know he was doing it again. He was waiting for you to say stop. For you to guide his prompt. Subtle or not. “…What so we can actually use a spoon on it?” You decided if you enquired innocently enough, he might pick up on something else “…In which case I feel you could turn the fridge down. OR heat the spoon but that would mean leaving your office which would obviously be bad…” You pulled him closer to you by his tie so that he had to place his hands on either side of your hips; “…I mean this is for the cake, right?” Your feigned innocence wasn’t fooling him in the slightest; “Oh?! Is that what you asked for it for…? No. I was thinking of the optimum temperature to melt it all over you…” There it was. What you wanted to hear. And you were pretty sure he knew that. You pulled at his tie to unfurl the knot – making it clear to Nolan you weren’t messing around. And a spark went off in those clever blue eyes. “Is that okay?” “Yes.”

His lips were on yours before you even got most of the word out, winding your legs around his as he pushed yours further apart to fit between them. He was quicker to find the straps of your dress than you were his shirt buttons, and you only managed one before he was pushing you back onto his desk. Releasing your lips. Nolan continued to work your dress down your body; but he wasn’t removing it completely just yet. Short enough to have also ridden up at his hungrier kisses, you were now almost completely exposed to him. Tracing his fingers gently up your thighs again he let out a gently huffed laugh; Sorrento bit his lip as his eyes trailed your body. You touched his hand but you didn’t stop him – it was more reassurance. Even though you’d said yes. He wanted you to touch him, as much as you wanted him to touch you. And hell, you knew he needed it more than you did.

Nolan’s hand left you for a moment and he picked up the ice cream – you watched as his face became satisfied. You guessed it was melted enough. He loaded his spoon up and ate it for himself. Well, that wasn’t fair! The satisfaction then moved to his voice; “MMMMh-!” He licked the spoon and then his lips as his eyes looked back to you; “That’s really good…” You opened your mouth in protest but he barely gave you any time to react; “It’s gonna taste better on you.” You couldn’t help the shocked breath that emanated from your chest. Oh. He smirked again. Leaning in for one final kiss; you could taste the vanilla on his tongue… He was right – it was delicious. You wondered if by the end of the night he’d let you melt it over him too… Otherwise this would just be greedy on his part-! He straightened and went for the spoon again “This is probably going to be quite cold. You’re still okay?” You gave a nod. To be honest, you weren’t sure you would care what it was, you just wanted that sinful tongue he was currently rolling over his lips running all over you instead. “Okay… Good.” He dipped the spoon back into the tub. His office wasn’t incredibly hot, but his body heat as he held it his hands allowed the ice cream to melt even faster. And pretty soon it was liquified enough in places for him to drip it over you. It was slow going, but the second the first drip hit your skin your body gave a lurch. Colder than you expected for melted ice cream. Oh God-! He would have paused only the rate it was running off the spoon wouldn’t allow him to. The drips were sporadic from your hips to your chest and when he finally put the spoon down to stand back and admire his handy work your eyes were incredibly dark. “Oh…. Y/N… My darling girl…” Sorrento’s signature smirk was spreading across his face at the sight of you “…I think you might enjoy this as much as me…” You weren’t sure you could tell him otherwise, as you reached out to pull him back to your lips by his shirt. Probably, was about your only coherent thought, as your fingers ran for his buttons again, he pulled away from you just as you managed to get to the last one. Nolan shook his head with a gentle growl; “Don’t let this think it’s going to distract me…” He left one last kiss on your lips before kissing down your neck your chest and then finally his tongue hit that first drip of ice cream. And you couldn’t help your moan. Nolan---! You raked your nails through his hair as he continued his trail down your body. Nolan-! NOLAN-! God, why was this so sexy!? This WAS so sexy though. And then his name was spilling from your lips. And he smirked against your skin. He raised his head so that his eyes met yours. “Oh-! Y/N…” He took that spoon back in his hand; voice purring “…Don’t you dare stop now…” --- Which is probably what you just yelled at the screen, amirite? 😉❤ Thank You For Requesting! 💕😘💕 4 Sins Down! @happyskywhale @dennismitchell Sorry! I know one of you has already seen this-! I’ll get better at tagging!!

#Nolan Sorrento #Nolan Sorrento x Reader #Ready Player One #Ben Mendelsohn #There will never be enough Nolan Sorrento on my blog #I remember when I wanted to title my Phil thing Sex & Math #Well this is Sex & Ice Cream #Oh look another 3134045126 talking point turned fic idea.#NOT that phil ever went sex & math... but he has the potential #Anyway enough on that!#Linzi Writes #Linzi Writes Requests #7DS #7 Deadly Sins #Gluttony #46

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kamino-ink · 6 years ago

Text

Sweet Tooth | Hwang Hyunjin

✧ Genre: Soulmate!au, sickly sweet fluff

✧ Summary: While most of your friends are connected to their soulmates by tattoos, dreams, or voices inside their heads, you are connected to yours by taste; it wouldn’t seem so bad if it wasn’t for the fact everything they ate was sweet.

✧ Word Count: 2.6k

✧ Want to read other parts of this series? Check out my masterlist!

✧

“Y/N sweetheart, why aren’t you eating?”

You let out a loud groan of despair at the innocent question, burying your face into the palms of your heads in utter frustration. The rest of your rather large family sat at the table looked at you either in amusement or confusion.

“She’s binded to her soulmate by taste - they apparently never stop eating sweets.” Your mother explains to the ones who are confused, glancing over at your slumped form sympathetically.

Here’s the thing; you really wanted to like whoever your soulmate was, but they never seemed to eat anything that didn’t have some sort of sweet taste to them. If they were snacking on strawberries, there had to be chocolate on them - if they were eating an entire meal there had to be at least a hint of sweetness to it, it was like you could never catch a break.

In the beginning it wasn’t so bad, since you were an avid picky eater and usually refused to eat anything you didn’t think you’d like. Your soulmate started out the same way, but as you both presumably got older, they started to really branch out and try anything given to them. Octopus, kimchi, even fucking bugs, they had involuntarily made you try it as well. As a kid you hated it, but when you got older you realized how cool it was to be able to taste so many new foods without actually eating them, and now you had quite the extensive palette.

A few months ago, your soulmate had eaten something so sweet it had you gagging it was packed with so much flavor, and then it kept happening until you figured out this person had a hellish case of sweet tooth. Funnily enough, you used to crave sweets after dinner or for a snack, but now you avoided them as much as you possibly could. Even now in the midst of a family reunion your soulmate had began to snack on goddamn sugar cubes, effectively spoiling your appetite.

“Honestly that’s probably the weirdest bond between soulmates I've ever heard of - and let me tell you, I've heard of some really freaky ones.”

“I know, Jisung. You’re lucky, you’re bonded through dreams. You guys get to dream about each other every night while I’m stuck with someone obsessed with sweets.”

Jisung laughs at your adorable pout of misery, his hand reaching over to playfully mess up your hair while Seungmin watched you both with glazed over eyes, the tiniest of smirks curled onto his lips. The three of you always stuck together like glue no matter what, even in school. You and Jisung had advanced placement history class right now, but Seungmin had signed up with your teacher to be his assistant just so he could be in the same class, essentially.

There was one other person in your trio of friends, a boy your age named Felix. Him and his soulmate were bonded together with the gift of being able to see whatever the other person saw when they wanted to. According to the freckled boy, whenever he closed his eyes and decided to open the barrier between them, he was able to see everything his soulmate was looking at in that very moment.

“Hey, where’s Lix?” You asked the two boys in front of you nonchalantly, picking at your nails in boredom as you blocked out the sounds of your peers chatting away with one another before class started. “The bell rings in a minute. If he’s late again he’s going to get detention.”

Both Jisung and Seungmin shrugged, clearly showing that neither of them knew where the last part of your group was either. Once the bell rang you whipped out your phone, sending a few concerned texts to your friend before you shoved it back into your backpack so you wouldn’t get caught with it.

‘yo pineapple head, where tf are you??’

‘lix the teacher is going to castrate you if you’re late again!!’

‘imma laugh when you get detention sorry dude’

Ten minutes later the door was opened, catching yours and everyone else’s attention as Felix walked into the classroom looking as calm and collected as ever. Following the freckled boy was a boy you had never seen before, and by the baffled expressions of your classmates, you could tell that none of them knew who this guy was either.

“Sorry I’m late teach, I was told by the principal to show the new kid to all of his classes.” He explained while everyone else in the classroom watched in wonder, clearly eyeing the new kid up and down. Hell you couldn’t really blame them, the new guy was incredibly handsome and obviously had a unique sense of fashion; wearing a long sleeved, white polo shirt with a cropped, black leather jacket and black jeans with tears in them.

When Felix gestured for the boy to follow him towards your table, you quickly averted your gaze back to Jisung, making sure you weren’t seen as you playfully wiggle your eyebrows at him. The blonde rolled his eyes at your antics, only to replace his pursed lips with a welcoming smile as Felix sandwiched the new kid between your body and his own.

“Um, hi,” the newcomer spoke softly at first, clearing his throat to speak a bit louder when the boy beside him nudged his arm encouragingly, “I’m Hyunjin. Felix said it was okay for me to stick with you all, if that’s alright.”

“Yeah, of course its fine - but I’ll let you in on a secret,” you pause for dramatic effect, leaning in closer to his ear as you whispered, “those three are fucking idiots with no common sense, just follow my lead and you won’t be like them.”

Hyunjin snickered quietly at your diss, watching as the three other boys sat at the table pouted their lips in your direction as if they knew exactly what you were saying under your breath. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

“Hyunjin, how in the world do you manage to get all of your work done?” You question him with a whine, letting out a satisfied sigh as you lean against his chair and pop your back. He simply put one of his fingers up to his plush lips in reply, tossing a ball of wadded up paper at your head.

“A magician never reveals his secrets, Y/N.”

You huff in annoyance at his secretive reply, wincing when the wad of notebook paper hits the top of your head. You reach down to grab it and throw it back to him forcefully, a snicker escaping your lips when it makes contact with his forehead and the dramatic boy plops down onto his bed with a groan of fake pain.

You weren’t quite sure how the two of you had grown so close to each other in such a little amount of time, if you counted two months of knowing each other not a lot of time. The bubbly boy had almost every single class with you and the other boys in the close-knit group of friends, so it wasn’t exactly hard to become close with him. Thing is, a lot of other people tried to get close with him during that period of time as well, although it was painfully obvious how they were only interested in his good looks and incredible sense of fashion.

Speaking of which, you learned that he actually got a majority of his clothes from a thrift store and either left them as is or redesigned them into whatever he wanted them to be. Ever since then you’d decided to tag along with him whenever he went thrifting - which was literally four times a week - just to keep him company since the rest of your group usually had other things to do. Still, Hyunjin somehow managed to go to work, finish his schoolwork, and thrift so often without breaking a sweat; you were dead set on figuring out how he did it.

From the corner of your eye you spot the black haired boy sneaking something out of what appeared to be a plastic baggy tucked underneath one of his pillows, stuffing it into his mouth before you could even attempt to identify whatever it was. A small, almost miniscule sense of something sweet hit your tongue, but you ignore it in favor of keeping focused.

With another exasperated huff you lean back into his chair, watching him chew on his mysterious snack while he typed something onto his computer for one of your history assignments.

He was one of the most attractive boys you had ever laid your eyes on, that much was for certain. Hyunjin radiated a strange sort of warmth and genuine friendliness that rarely was seen in such a time of desperateness, with most of the population hellbent on finding their soulmate before they grew old. Yet Hyunjin seemed perfectly content with not finding his other half, so much in fact that he tended to veer away from conversations about soulmate connections.

Watching the diligent boy work so eagerly, his eyes wide in a shining curiosity that never did seem to diminish, you wondered what his soulmate was doing. Perhaps they were as beautiful as he was, or as intelligent and hardworking as Hyunjin was - whoever it was, you couldn’t help but feel jealous of. There were times where you wished you were Hyunjin’s soulmate, in all honesty.

Whoever was connected to him was extremely lucky.

I am going to kill Han Jisung.

You think silently to yourself, glaring daggers at the all too amused, proud blonde sat snuggly in-between Felix and Seungmin, who both were looking just as amused by your situation. Tonight was movie-night, a night where all five of you got together at someone’s house and randomly picked a movie from Netflix to watch. This particular night was being hosted by Hyunjin, which wouldn’t have been an issue if you hadn’t already been wearing his clothes as pajamas after your long-winded study session.

The second those three sauntered into his house and spotted you, you knew they were going to pull something cheesy and ridiculous, but you hadn’t been expecting this.

You and Hyunjin were left to be smooshed together on the loveseat while the other three made it completely impossible for anyone else to sit on the couch, awkwardly stretching their limbs over each other’s bodies for good measure.

“H-hey Y/N, do you - do you mind if I just-” Hyunjin stutters to himself, his cheeks flushing a deep crimson red as he stretches his arms around you and pulls your back into his chest, giving you both a bit more room on the tiny loveseat.

“N-no, its fine.” You say with a furious blush, thanking the gods that he couldn’t witness the dusty pink color painting your cheeks at his actions.

Throughout the entirety of the movie you were snuggled up into his chest with his chin resting on your shoulder, his soft breaths tickling your sensitive skin. Anytime something funny occurred you could feel his chest moving with his adorable laughter, and whenever something scary popped up onto the television screen he would tightly squeeze you closer to his body as if you could protect him from the fictional ghosts.

You hated how nice it felt to be so close to him, because with each second that passed you could only fall even harder for him - if that was even possible.

You were so fucked.

“Lix, I can’t go bowling today - I am at work, that’s why!” You hiss into your phone, thankful that there were only maybe three customers in the shop at the moment. Felix was insisting that you all were supposed to go bowling today, but apparently Hyunjin had ditched so he could go to some shop he wanted to check out for a while now, and you were stuck at work.

The bell hanging above the door to the bakery opens and you glance over for just a split second, feeling your lips part in surprise at who walks in. “Uh, another customer just came in Felix, sorry, bye!”

“Ah, is Felix pestering you about the bowling trip too?” The new arrival inquires with a smirk, propping his elbows up onto the marble counter.

“Yep. I bet Jisung is blowing up my messages too, but I am not looking at them.” You laugh, blushing when the still smirking boy leans in even closer from across the countertop, his gaze boring into yours.

Did he want you to turn the color of a tomato? Was he planning to just bother you during your shift?

“I want something sweet, babe.” He hums after a moment of keeping solid eye contact with you, though he doesn’t refrain from keeping so close to you. You flush at the nickname, your breath just nearly catching in your throat in shock.

Without a word you nod in compliance, not wanting to give the smug looking boy the satisfaction of knowing that he could so easily make you a pink, flustered mess. “How sweet?”

“Give me the sweetest thing on the menu - besides you, of course.”

Holy fuck he was going to make your heart explode talking like that. You nod once more, turning your back to him as you go to shuffle through the freshest batches of cupcakes you had in stock. Vanilla? No, that’s just bland. Strawberry with cream? Eh, too basic.

Aha! You think victoriously to yourself, tentively reaching out to grab a chocolate cupcake with vanilla icing and a chocolate covered cherry on top - and it was covered in rainbow sprinkles. It was the newest edition to the menu, and it was a hit with most of your customers; surely Hyunjin would like it.

You hand him the cupcake with a soft smile, tilting your head in curiosity when he hands you the money, but stays in his spot at the counter. He takes a bit of the sickly sweet cupcake, watching everything you do.

That’s when it hits you - that all too familiar taste of something so sweet that you wanted to scream.

“Hm? What’s wrong Y/N, too sweet for you?” Hyunjin snickers, though when you look up in complete and utter shock you can see just how red his cheeks have become, and how he’s clearly growing more nervous by the second, his feet tapping on the floor quickly.

“What - what do you mean?” You ask him, though you already know exactly what he means. But... but how did he figure it out?

Hyunjin gulps and takes a nervous intake of breath, just barely holding it together. “W-well I remembered that you mentioned something about being connected to your soulmate through taste a while back. I um, I kinda connected the dots when you were drinking that shitty smoothie Seungmin made you drink during truth or dare,” he explains quickly, watching with a smile as your own eyes start to widen in realization and disbelief, “I almost threw up it was so bad. Um, a-anyway, I tested it out by eating some basic things around you, like really hot barbeque chips and spicy chicken-”

“You asshole-”

“I’m sorry, I had to test my theory out somehow! But, like I said, it was kinda obvious after a while that we had the same connection. T-the only reason I didn't act on it sooner was because I didn't want to rush anything. I started to really get to know you and I - I fell in love with you.” He admits softly, making you gasp.

You quickly rush out from behind the counter and throw your arms around the now startled but giggly boy, burying your face into his chest. “I’m so glad its you, Hyunjin.”

“I’m glad its you too, Y/N.”

✧

#skzwriters #stray kids #stray kids au #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids drabbles #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin scenario #hyunjin imagine #stray kids fluff #stray kids soulmate au #hyunjin soulmate au

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