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mochikeiji · 4 years ago

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Looking Like U Got Me

Request: "Prompt no. 56 and 55 for Gojo ＼(^o^)／"

55. "You look like my husband/wife"

56. "Keep doing that and I'll marry you faster"

↠ Pairing: Gojou Satoru x Reader

↠ Warning: none! Simply fluff

↬ Word Count: 1.7k

↠ a/n: i accidentally mixed up prompts 55 and 57 ;-; but still hoping this turns out good!!

↳ from Go! Go! Gogatsu Event!

All he wanted was to wake up in bed, next to you— who would cuddle deeper in his arms even in slumber so he'd smother you with his kisses and tighten his hold around you and drift back to sleep longer, finally free of responsibilities for once and enjoy quality time with his only favorite person. But instead he wakes up with a groan passing through his lips, supporting his back side with his hand while shuffling to his side in a different position as the light sun rays shun through the window blinds, softly fanning his eye and forehead.

Gojo chuckles a bit before wincing. His lower back so tensed that he feels himself get older by the day. Pouting at the empty space next to him, he palms the cold sheet in wonder of where you are. Up so early in the morning when you could've just stayed in for him. How annoying. His eyes shut for moment when the scent coming from outside the room intruded his senses. Ah, you must be cooking breakfast. How sweet of you.

Thank goodness it wasn't another batch of dried crackers or cup of noodles that'll enter his mouth. He was never one to cook meals when he was on solo or when you weren't around. The very thought of not only the meal was awaiting for him outside, but also you excites him that it made him feel tingly inside. Call it dramatic, yeah, but it's not every day someone gets to wake up and immediately feel this full of love in the morning. You were the only and last love he's ever wanted to have in this world. It was so surreal even to him.

Sighing before pushing himself up, Gojo yawns out the remains of drowsiness in his system and stands. He didn't bother wearing a shirt since last night, claiming that he misses how his body rubs off yours in both comforting and suggestive ways. Plus it was just you and him home, he'd rather walk naked than wear the usual long sleeved uniform on a warm day.

The scent of coffee got stronger as he closes in his journey towards the kitchen. There was faint sizzling coming from the pan as you stood there in attendance. Stuck in your own little world, swaying to the sound of the radio playing, U got Me by Yung Heazy. It was one of the few songs that reminded you of Gojo back when you were both high schoolers. The exact song you remembered playing when you both hung out on a small cafe in Tokyo. Where he was so flustered, attempted to hide his blushes with his round glasses. The little things that reminded you of that memory never fails to make your heart race.

Of course Gojo knows this one as well. Because it was on that date as well he had call you, "his" after masking his embarrassment and from obviously checking you out every minute. How could he contain himself? He was a young man who was having trouble in the arts of love. Nevertheless he was glad to have grown up from those years. If his younger self could see him now, he'd be gagging at the sight of a softer version of his older self.

Snaking his arms around your torso carefully to avoid surprising you, he places his chin above your shoulder. Salivating at the sight of thick bacon in deep frying, shamelessly letting you know he was hungry from the sound of his stomach growling. "This is a nice way to greet me." you smile at the man behind you, who had his eyes closed in delight while rubbing his cheek against yours like a cat in need of attention. "Good morning to you as well, sweet cheeks." he says after pressing a kiss on your skin.

"You got up early." whining softly, his hair and nose tickling the side of your neck and shoulder, "I was hoping to stay longer y'know?" trailing his hands underneath the his shirt you were wearing, mapping out on all the skin he could squish and hold with his large palms. Noticeably pressing himself closer to your body, the much needed space gone but you weren't complaining. After all, this was Gojo, a man who knows no boundaries.

"I wanted to make breakfast for you. We haven't had one together since we're both busy." you say as you grabbed the nearby plate, turning off the stove as the now cooked meal sizzles softly from the pan before sliding down to the porcelain surface. In attempt to lick his lips at the now prepared food, his tongue grazes upon your skin, sending you to jolt a bit, hearing the joyous laughter from him as he places a kiss on the spot as an apology.

"W-why don't you go sit down, there's rice bowls and cooked eggs prepared already." stammering, you quickly excused yourself away from his embrace to clean out the mess from the counter. Gojo sighs out the adoration but obliges to your command. Not long after you had finally settled down in front of him. Seeing him in all smiles as he scarfs down on his food made you smile as well. Thank goodness his blindfold was off, they looked adorable twinkling in happiness.

This felt nice. To have an opportunity to be a normal couple once again. So many times you could only daydream of scenarios like this. He could say the same as now that you were present on the usual spot he'd come home to empty. Often dozing off during meetings thinking of where you were or how you were, the multiple times Megumi has fed up with his whining about how he never gets to see or have more time with you. Nobara even pointed out a fact saying, "You act as if you're both married." and Yuuji, being the happy child of the three had said something that always ponder in his mind, "Why don't you marry each other yet, sensei?"

It was a statement he's been considering for a long time. Marriage. Of course Gojo wanted to marry you after years of torment love. To have his precious students say that you both already looked as if you were married got him all heart racing, and very very happy. He's had vivid images of a life with you. Not far from what it is today, but imagine. Unlimited happiness after so long of fearing it. Perhaps maybe even tiny legs running around, giving him such big love as his grows for the family he's craved, watching you smile beside the doorway and calling them in for a meal.

If marrying you means he can have that every day, then the hell with it.

"You look like my wife."

The spoon drop echoes. Slowly his face erupted into a faint blush while staring back at your widened eyes and opened mouth. "What?" gulping down the stuck food in your throat, Gojo bites his lips watching you maintain your composure. So cute. "Y-you know you say funny stuff when you're out of it. Maybe some daifuku would help? Yeah! Wait a sec." quickly getting up from your seat and rummaging in your fridge, you breathed out the heavy puff of air from your lungs.

He did not just say that so directly towards you. Maybe you were dreaming? You wouldn't be if your heart wasn't practically being forced out. Gojo is always fun and games, right? He doesn't mean that.

Sad to think of it that way.

"Ow!" thumping your head above the fridge as you grabbed some of the take outs of Daifuku you got yesterday, closing the fridge back before returning shortly to Gojo, who seemed as out of it as you were. "You did say your brain functions best when you eat sweets. Luckily for you I bought these yesterday. That's why I cooked earlier now because I wanted to try it out with you!"

Gojo can't tell if he wants to be offended at the fact that you think he was joking or just now, cover his half of his face to hide his laughter and igniting squeals. God he wished he had his phone right now, the moment was just so priceless and precious as you were.

"...ter"

Muffles from behind his hand was heard. Tilting your head to the side, trying to process what he said but no avail. "What was that?" you moved a little closer next to him, tapping his hand away almost eagerly. When he does, you spot that knowing smile present on his lips and the uncharacteristic blush still painted on his cheeks.

"Keep doing that and I'll marry you faster, honey."

You've gotten more shy when his hand held yours in the most loving way while drawing patterns. Searching through his eyes if he was playing around, but you were met with ones you know of when they were full of sincerity. "I-i. You know, they were so cheap anyways and I figured you'd want them." he snorts before leaning his head on your arm and laughs hysterically. It was painfully obvious that you were in state of shock that you couldn't even process his words.

Up until now the effect he has on you was still there like before.

"Sweetie." he turns his body away from the table to face you, pulling you so that you were standing in between his legs looking down shyly on the floor. "I'm serious." his fingers reached for your chin to pull your head up to meet his features. His other hand still holding your smaller one; index finger tracing your ring finger in circular motions as if he was creating a make believe ring.

He should thank himself for falling in love and be trusting once again.

Because now, staring back at your eyes filled with the same amount of emotions as his. Reciprocating the exact thing he was feeling. Waking up just to start the day already wanting him to be there. Knowing all the littlest things he's shared. Hearing the erratic sound of both of your heart beats.

He knew he's made the right choice.

"You really do look like my wife. My future."

#gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo scenarios #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo imagine #gojou satoru #gojou satoru x reader #gojou x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #raines: gogatsu event

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hrina · 5 years ago

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1923, Pt. I - The Day

PAIRING: Harry x Reader RATING: PG (for now) WORD COUNT: 7k REQUESTED: nope

hi everyone! here is PART 1 of my historical AU featuring harry as a groundskeeper/farmhand (i know that those two professions are slightly different but just let me have this ok snfjsjfnsdsf)

warning: parts of this fic will contain mature language and nsfw content. if it makes you uncomfortable, you absolutely do not have to read! take care of urselves <3

this series will be composed of three parts altogether, so i hope u all enjoy this first one! as always, please reblog the fics that you like! and don’t hesitate to send in feedback, i promise that we, as writers, always love to witness your reactions :) anywayyyy now that we’ve covered all the bases, go stupid with 1920s harry! can’t wait to hear ur thoughts 💌💌💌

~*~

July 5th, 1923

“What if he comes back with a beard that goes all the way down to his knees?”

You snort and shake your head. “He’s only been gone for a few months, Dee. I don’t think it’s possible for one’s whiskers to grow that quickly.”

Lydia shrugs, toying with the hem of her pale blue dress. “What if he met an evil witch in New York who cast a spell on him? And now he’s doomed to live out the rest of his life with horrifying facial hair!”

A laugh bubbles up in your throat. I don’t think that there are any witches in New York, you want to say, but you keep your mouth shut. Believing in magic is an integral part of childhood—you don’t want to be the one who takes that away from her. Soon enough, she’ll figure it out for herself.

You wind an elastic around your fingers, securing the end of her braid so that it doesn’t unravel. “That’s one,” you say, sighing quietly. “Turn to the side so that I can start on the other.”

She obeys, angling her head to the left. You gather her dark curls in a loose fist, skimming your nails against her scalp to collect every last strand.

Her hair has grown hot, absorbing the heat of the sun. It’s a beautiful day—there isn’t a single cloud in the sky. The two of you are sitting on the front steps of your home, looking out over the paved circular driveway and waiting excitedly for Andrew’s car to pull up to the iron gate. Realistically, you know that he won’t be here for at least another few hours, but Lydia insisted that you unwind outside to pass the time.

Somehow, she persuaded you to fashion her hair into twin braids. And though you had groaned at the initial request, here you are.

“He’s bringing a friend, you know,” your sister suddenly pipes up. “He told me in his letter.”

“Oh, really,” you say wryly. “And who exactly is this friend of his?”

“Martin Russell,” Lydia says, as though she’s reciting lines for a play. “He graduated from Harvard and then built his own company with nothing but a nickel to his name. Drew says that they’re trying to merge and become an empire.”

“An empire,” you echo, humouring her. “That sounds awfully intimidating, don’t you think?”

“Not to me,” she boasts, lacing her fingers together in her lap and squaring her shoulders. “Drew told me that I’m a businesswoman in the making.”

“That, you are,” you agree. You tie your remaining elastic around her second braid, fastening it in place. “All done.”

Lydia jumps to her feet, tugging down the material of her dress and turning to face you. She strikes a pose, placing one hand on her waist and lifting the other above her head. “How do I look?”

“Stunning,” you say, smiling up at her softly. “You’re the prettiest little girl I’ve ever seen.”

At that, she frowns.

“I’m not little!” she protests, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m thirteen and a half!”

“That’s little,” you say, laughing quietly. “Trust me. Once you get to my age, you’ll understand.”

“I’d rather be little than ancient,” she shoots back, sticking her tongue out good-naturedly. You scoff, bringing your fingers up to your forehead so that you can shield your eyes from the sun.

“Twenty-three is not ancient!” you say, baffled.

Lydia just giggles, twirling around a few times and watching the skirt of her dress fan out handsomely. Once she looks up, however, she freezes in her tracks. Your eyebrows knit together as she extends her arm in a frantic wave.

“Hi, Harry!”

You stiffen, reflexively following her gaze.

Harry is about thirty feet from the steps, crossing the driveway with a heavy bag of soil slung over his shoulder. In his other hand, he’s carrying a bucket filled with rusted gardening tools. You had been so caught up in your conversation with your sister that you failed to notice him. He’s making his way toward the pretty garden that separates the entry and exit of the driveway, tucked between the two strips of road and outlined with smooth grey stones.

You swallow forcefully when he pauses at the sound of Lydia’s voice. He turns, and you get a full view of his broad chest, tanned skin peeking out from underneath his white shirt. Brown trousers cover his legs, held up by matching suspenders. His black boots are speckled with dried mud—you guess that he’s just come from the stables in the back.

Upon catching sight of your sister, he smiles and begins to walk over. You shift quickly, trying to focus on something—anything—else.

“Good afternoon, little bug.” Harry’s tone is deep, slow, rough. It sends a shiver down your spine. “You alright?”

“Very much so,” Lydia replies, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Harry, how old are you?”

“Twenty-seven,” he replies.

Your sister glances over at you, her brows arched high on her forehead. “He’s practically primeval.”

“Dee!” Her name leaves your lips as an admonishment, but you can’t stifle your laugh.

She just giggles and turns back to Harry; he’s smirking slightly, watching your interaction unfold. “Are you going to be planting more roses?” Lydia asks, changing the subject.

“Yes.” He nods. He sets the bucket down and uses his free hand to realign the bag of soil on his shoulder. “Would you like to help?”

Lydia spins around to face you, her eyes wide and pleading. “Can I? Pretty please?”

“You’re supposed to take Artemis out for a ride,” you tell her, pursing your lips. “You know how antsy she gets when she’s cooped up all day.”

“Can’t you take her out?” Lydia asks, clasping her fingers together and bringing them up to her chest.

“Dee,” you start, shaking your head, “you know I don’t—I couldn’t possibly—”

“Harry,” she says suddenly, glancing down at him from over her shoulder. “Have you been in the stables today? Did you see Artemis?”

Harry hums dutifully. His eyes fall to you—you look away.

“And did she seem anxious at all?” Lydia presses expectantly, placing her hands on her hips.

He hesitates. “Well…no. But if you need to take her out, please do. I’m perfectly capable of planting by myself.”

“Nonsense,” she says, waving away his words. She turns back to you, jutting her bottom lip out into an imploring pout. “Can’t you ask someone else to do it? What about Penelope? Or Beth?”

“Beth’s preparing lunch,” you say, scoffing quietly. “Besides, she refuses to work in a messy environment. What makes you think that she’ll willingly go down to the stables, of all places?”

Lydia frowns, blowing out an annoyed sigh.

“Fine,” she acquiesces at last, rolling her eyes. She spins around, hopping down the remaining steps and fixing Harry with an accusatory glare. “I’ll be back in thirty minutes! Don’t you dare start without me!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, little bug,” he replies, his lips twitching. You watch as Lydia takes off, her braids whipping in the wind as she sprints toward the side of the house. Once she disappears around the corner and out of your sight, you press your palms to your face, sighing loudly.

“She’s too much,” you mutter, mostly to yourself. Harry chuckles quietly from the bottom of the stairs; you freeze suddenly, remembering that he’s still there.

“I should—” You clear your throat, climbing to your feet. The light material of your dress tickles the skin just below your knees. “I should probably go. There’s still so much to do before Drew returns.”

You’re lying, of course. But he doesn’t need to know that.

“I’m sure there is.” Harry nods, running his fingers through his hair. The dark strands curl beautifully behind his ears. You allow yourself to study them for only a moment before diverting your gaze up to the sky.

“It’s hot—are you thirsty?” you ask, squinted eyes trained on miles of cerulean blue. “I can get Beth to bring you some water, if you’d like.”

“That’d be lovely,” he says. “Thank you.”

You simply hum in response. Your hands are abnormally clammy when you wipe them across the thin petticoat covering your thighs.

“Right,” you say, chancing a glance back down at him. “Well…have a nice day.”

“You too, miss.”

You pause, fiddling with the satin bow tied at the small of your back. “You—you don’t have to call me that, Harry,” you remind him, shaking your head. “How many times must I tell you?”

“My apologies,” he says, shrugging. “Force of habit.”

“It’s alright,” you say, intent on avoiding his gaze. “It just—it makes me feel as though I’m your—your—”

You break off, uncertain of how to proceed. Thankfully, though, Harry seems to understand. He chuckles softly, bowing his chin in agreement. “I know.”

Embarrassment festers in your chest, creeping up your neck and settling into your cheeks. You straighten, swallowing down the hard lump in your throat and retreating toward the door. “Lydia will be back soon, I’m sure. Good day.”

When Harry lifts his head again, his green eyes teem with an emotion that is somehow unrecognizable yet familiar all at once. The gruff timbre of his response makes your stomach churn nervously, flipping your breakfast of fresh fruits and toast. You hate it more than anything else in the world.

You don’t hate him, though.

No…you could never hate him.

“Good day, miss. Ah, I mean—” His face collapses into a grimace. He grunts at the thoughtless error, shaking his head. “—good day.”

~*~

It’s just past three in the afternoon when a car horn honks from outside. Lydia’s shrill squeal of excitement follows soon thereafter.

“Drew!” she cries. She rushes into the front foyer, white shoes squeaking against the polished floor. The bottom of her dress is dotted with faded spots of mud, a testament to her time spent in the garden earlier today.

“Dee,” you scold her, frowning. “I told you to change once you had finished planting.”

“Sorry!” she says, though her tone suggests that she isn’t sorry at all—not in the slightest. “Got distracted!”

She grabs your hand, and you yelp when she gives a mighty tug, towing you outside. You dust off the skirt of your dress, tucking your hair behind your ears and staring at the iron gate in the distance—it’s closing back up, metal spines glinting alluringly in the sunlight. On one side of the driveway, a bright red car rolls along the pavement, tires bumping merrily against the ground. Two silhouettes sit in the front; the man behind the wheel honks the horn again and extends his arm through the window, sweeping it upward in a triumphant greeting.

“Drew!” Lydia repeats. She charges down the front steps, her hands outstretched.

“Be careful!” you call after her, gnawing anxiously on your bottom lip.

The sun is still high in the sky. You crane your neck, surveying your surroundings. Heat rises from the driveway in murky waves, blurring the scenery. The large portico that spans nearly the entire width of your home is lined with bushels of potted plants—roses and peonies and daffodils. The lawn is bright and healthy, spearmint-green grass trimmed to perfection.

Something shifts in the periphery of your vision. Your head snaps to the left.

Harry is there, leaning against the corner of the house. He’s still sporting the same outfit as before, except it’s even more sullied, now. You’re not surprised. Gardening is grubby work, but gardening with Lydia…it’s a miracle that he’s not caked in mud, soiled from head to toe.

On cue, Harry reaches for a dirty rag dangling over his shoulder. He grasps the material with strong fingers, lifting it to his face and wiping down his forehead and his cheeks. You watch him closely, fascinated by the thin sheen of sweat sparkling on his skin.

As though sensing your stare, his eyes dart over, locking squarely with yours.

A soft gasp falls from your lips. You clench your jaw, incontrovertibly caught, and quickly look away.

As soon as Andrew steps out of the car, Lydia launches herself into his arms. He laughs gleefully, catching her with ease and spinning her around. He’s dressed in a cream-coloured suit, the collar of his periwinkle button-up peeking out beneath the lapels. His loafers are shiny and brown; a matching hat is perched atop his head, hiding his dark hair from view. The cap makes his ears stick out even more than usual—upon realising this, you smile.

“Look at how much you’ve grown!” Andrew grunts, setting Lydia back down on the ground. He puts his hand next to her shoulder, as though measuring her against an invisible wall. “The last time I saw you, I could’ve sworn you were only this tall.”

She beams before standing on her tiptoes and poking at his chest. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t be gone for so long next time!”

“Touché,” he chuckles, nodding in assent. His fingers find the ends of her braids, fiddling with them absentmindedly. “And who’s responsible for these pretty things, hm?”

“I think we both know the answer to that question,” you interject, making your way down the steps.

Andrew looks up at you and grins widely. You hold out your arms as you approach, and he accepts your invitation with a happy call of your name. He’s tall—a few inches over six feet, if you had to guess. You hug him tightly, burying your face into his shoulder and flattening your palms against his back.

“You look very handsome,” you tell him when you break apart. “I like this colour on you.”

He laughs sheepishly, scratching the nape of his neck. “Do you? I was on the fence about it, truthfully.”

“You shouldn’t have been—it looks good,” you assure him, smoothing your knuckles over his collar. “What took you so long? You’re late.”

“Stopped off at the cemetery to visit mum and dad,” he explains. “Changed their flowers, too—calla lilies, this time.”

You nod grimly, pursing your lips. “Mum’s favourite. Excellent choice.”

One of the car’s doors slams shut; the noise pulls your attention away from your brother. You peer past him, eyes landing on the man who has just exited the passenger side of the vehicle. His skin is a fair shade of olive, complimented beautifully by the beige jacket slung over his shoulders. Checkered brown pants cover his legs, and he’s clutching a sturdy briefcase in one hand. Andrew retreats, keeping a palm on the small of your back as he leads you over to his companion.

“Girls,” he says, tipping his cap, “this is my business partner, Martin Russell. Martin, these are my sisters.”

Martin bows his head. “Lovely to meet you both.”

“Are you tired, Mister Russell?” you ask. “It’s been a long journey, I’m sure.”

“I’m quite alright, miss, thank you,” he replies.

You don’t miss the way his amber eyes trail along your figure as he straightens up. You step back before you even have the chance to register what you’re doing.

“Hello!” Lydia—much to your relief—butts in, grabbing Martin’s hand and shaking it frantically. “I’m Lydia. Say, how would you describe your time at Harvard? Did you enjoy it? Was it a lot of work?”

Martin chuckles nervously, taken aback by your sister’s blathering. “Er,” he starts, “I—”

“Dee,” Andrew says, snickering quietly. “At least let the man get settled in before you begin interrogating him.”

“Sorry,” Lydia mumbles, shrinking away.

“That’s alright,” Andrew says, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You’ll have plenty of time to chat with him over dinner tonight, won’t you? Is it true that Beth is preparing my favourite?”

Your sister beams and nods. “I asked her to!”

“That’s very kind of you.” Andrew smiles. He looks up at the house, his forlorn gaze running over the plethora of pale bricks and clear windows. Abruptly, he pauses, squinting and lifting his fingers to shield his face from the sun. “Is that…?”

Your blood runs cold.

Andrew raises an arm high above his head. “Harry!”

And suddenly, staring down at the ground becomes your most pressing concern of the day. Harry makes his way over, a mountain of handsome grime. It’s unfair, really, you think. How does he manage to look so fetching, even beneath a thin layer of soot?

“How have you been?” Andrew asks, surging forward and shaking his hand. “It’s good to see you.”

“Likewise,” Harry replies, grinning. “I’ve been alright. Keeping the garden tame, keeping the stables clean.” He tosses a pointed look in Lydia’s direction. “Keeping this little bug out of trouble.”

“Hey!” she protests, crossing her arms over her chest.

Harry just chuckles.

“I’m happy to hear that,” Andrew says, nodding in satisfaction. “It’s nice knowing that there’s still a man around the house to take care of these two.”

You bristle at his words, scowling in mock-offense. “We are perfectly capable of taking care of ourselves, thank you very much.”

“I know.” Your brother shoots you a mischievous wink, and only then do you realise that he’s merely trying to get a rise out of you. You roll your eyes, though you can’t quell the fond smile that creeps onto your face.

“Let’s go in,” you suggest. “You can say hello to the rest of the staff, and then we can all wash up before dinner.”

Andrew hums in agreement. He tilts his head to the side, attention fixed almost exclusively on Harry. “You should come, H,” he says swiftly. “It’s been too long; we need to catch up.”

“Drew—” Your shoulders tense, and your nostrils flare. “I don’t think—”

“I’d love to,” Harry interrupts. He hooks his thumbs beneath the straps of his suspenders. “Thank you for the invite, Drew.”

“Of course.” Your brother nods before turning back to Lydia and Martin. “Shall we, then?”

The three of them push between you and Harry, climbing up the steps and disappearing through the front door. Inside, your sister unleashes a stream of fleeting questions: What’s it like in New York? Are the people nice? How was the food? Did you see the Statue of Liberty?

Gradually, her inquiries fade away. You stand there, chest inflated with a held breath and fingers fidgeting anxiously with the skirt of your dress. The sun beats down against the crown of your head, triggering a mild fit of dizziness.

Or maybe that’s just Harry.

“So…,” he begins, blowing out an awkward sigh. “What shall we be eating tonight?”

You scoff, unable to help yourself. “You accepted the offer without knowing exactly what it was?”

“Should I know?”

You swallow heavily, pinning your gaze on the scarlet vehicle still parked only a few feet away. “Minestrone,” you say. The word is clipped. “Drew loves it.”

“I’ve had it,” he tells you. “Beth always saves me a bit if there’s some left over.”

You nod wordlessly.

“Are you upset with me?” Harry asks, digging his hands into his pockets. You’re so taken aback by his question that your head snaps toward him, brows cinched together in confusion.

“What?” The question falls from your lips before you can blink. “No, of course not. Why would you think that?”

“You won’t even look at me,” he hums, shrugging casually.

“I’m looking at you right now.”

“Not before, you weren’t.”

“I—” you break off, pursing your lips and squeezing your eyes shut. You pinch the bridge of your nose between two fingers, trying to keep yourself composed. “I have to go.”

“As do I.”

“Right.” You avoid his gaze. “Goodbye, then.” You whip around, hurrying up the steps.

“Goodbye,” Harry replies from behind you. The smile in his voice is painfully conspicuous. “See you at dinner.”

~*~

You’ve just pinned a final clip into your hair when Lydia comes barrelling through your bedroom door with no warning whatsoever. You’ve long since given up on reprimanding her for it. She always forgets to knock.

“Can you button me up?” she requests, spinning around and exposing her bare back.

“Did you run down the hall like that?” you ask, laughing at her eccentricity.

“Yes,” she says matter-of-factly. “But don’t worry—I made sure that the coast was clear.”

“Brilliant. Your reconnaissance skills are truly a sight to behold.”

She scoffs, smiling at you from over her shoulder. “Are you going to help me, or not?”

“Patience, Dee,” you say. You turn back to your own reflection, twirling your finger through a loose strand of hair and letting it fall picturesquely against your temple. “There.”

Her feet scuffle absentmindedly against the floor as you approach her. She’s wearing a pastel pink dress with short, puffy sleeves that cinch at her skinny biceps. The bottom hem of her petticoat tickles her knees, which strain against transparent white tights. You remember wearing something nearly identical when you were her age. The outfit isn’t a hand-me-down, though. The stitching is brand-new, and the fabric is crisp and fresh, like it’s never once seen the inside of a washtub.

“It’s nice having Drew back home, wouldn’t you agree?” you ask your sister. She squeals when the nail of your index finger ghosts playfully up her spine.

“It is,” she concurs as you begin to fasten the clasps at the small of her back. “I’ve missed him terribly.”

“So have I,” you hum, pressing your mouth into a thin line. “There are some things that I could do without, though. Like that comment he made about us not being able to take care of ourselves.”

“He was only teasing,” Lydia says. “You know that. Besides—” She shrugs, puckering her lips idly. “—he was right. Harry does take care of us, even though we may not always need it.”

At that, you pause.

“‘Harry takes care of us’?” you parrot, your brows knitting together. “What do you mean by that?”

“Well,” she starts, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Who trims the lawn and tends to the flowers early in the morning? And who cleans out the stables when they get messy?”

“We pay him to do those things, Dee,” you say, shaking your head slightly. “It’s his job.”

“I suppose you’re right,” she agrees. “But he does so much more, don’t you think?”

You say nothing. She takes your silence as an invitation to elaborate.

“For example,” she says—declares, “he never gets irritated with me whenever I prattle on about my day.”

“Oh.” You smirk. “So you are aware of your tendency to talk too much.”

“Not funny,” she deadpans. You giggle.

“He always lets me follow him around whenever I get bored,” she adds, her eyes glazing over. “And he likes to make sure that you’re alright, too.”

Your fingers fumble with the last button at the top of her dress. You pray that she doesn’t detect the sudden blunder. “How so?” you probe, trying to keep your voice level.

“You know,” she indicates, even though you most certainly do not. “Like today, as we were planting the roses. He asked me how you were doing—if you were eating well, if you were getting enough sleep. Those are fairly standard inquiries regarding one’s wellbeing, I’d say. Do you disagree?”

“No,” you murmur, gnawing on your painted bottom lip. “I don’t.”

You finish your task, fastening the final clasp on her dress and smoothing your fingers down her sides. “There you go,” you say softly, your throat dry. “All done.”

“Thank you,” she singsongs, twirling around to face you. She studies you closely, soaking in the black floor-length gown cascading down your figure. “You look beautiful,” she says, her tone sincere. “Martin’s going to be utterly speechless when he sees you!”

A weak chuckle falls from your mouth. “Shall we go down?” you suggest, wrapping a loose arm around her shoulders and guiding her toward the door.

“Yes, please,” she replies. She places a palm over her stomach, features crumpling into a theatrical scowl. “I’m famished.”

You smile.

And as you exit your bedroom with your sister in tow, you realise that she may have been wrong about which man you’re hoping to impress.

~*~

Dinner is full of surprises, many of which present themselves in the form of Martin Russell. It’s astonishing, you think, because the man who had barely spoken ten words upon first meeting you is now commanding the table at which you’re sat. Andrew is perched at the head, with Martin just off to his right. Lydia is next to him, and you’re directly across from him. And that means that Harry…

Harry is right next to you.

You do everything in your power to avoid looking in his direction. Thankfully, it proves to be easier than expected, considering the fact that Martin has been droning on about his company for the past fifteen minutes. You don’t believe that anyone else has managed to squeeze in a single word.

There’s wine, candles, and the finest china your family owns. But all of that pales in comparison to the man sitting beside you.

Harry cleans up exquisitely. Upon first entering the dining room, you were shocked to find him in a black tuxedo with a white bowtie resting just below his throat. It appears that he even combed and gelled his hair, though some strands have fallen free from the style and now hang down over his forehead. You don’t mind it, though—if anything, it’s a hint of the man you know peeking through. And the man you know is handsome—alarmingly so.

Drew had whistled as you descended the stairs. He then offered you his arm, patting your hand and telling you that you looked wonderful. Martin hadn’t been able to control his reaction, his eyes raking up and down your figure like you were a lavish meal on a silver platter. It had taken everything in you to hide your distaste.

But Harry…

Harry hadn’t said a word. He’d fixed his face perfectly, showing no sign of emotion whatsoever. You’d been hoping for something—anything—indicative of his opinion toward your outfit, but you observed no such consequence. He’d only acknowledged you with a curt nod before settling into his chair and pointedly looking away.

And now, here you are—a bowl of minestrone in front of you, a wineglass inches away from your lips, and an irritated groan simmering on the back of your tongue. Martin’s voice is growing more and more irksome by the minute.

“And then, it was as though they couldn’t get enough—”

“I had assured them that I would bring in at least twice the revenue—”

“It was incredible! I’ve never seen anything like it—”

You polish off the rest of your wine, reaching across the table for the half-empty bottle. No one notices as you pour a bit more of the alcohol into your glass, sneakily surpassing what would be considered appropriate for a lady to consume. You set the bottle back down with a silent huff, lifting the goblet to your lips and letting your attention wander.

You freeze when you catch Harry staring at you out of the corner of his eye. The edges of his mouth are curled up ever-so-slightly, nearly imperceptible. Heat rushes to your cheeks; you gulp down a large sip of wine, averting your gaze.

You deposit your drink onto the pristine white tablecloth, glaring intently at your food. You can feel Harry’s playful stare burning a hole into the side of your head; you suspect that he’s trying his hardest not to laugh.

Your soup has cooled substantially. You shovel a spoonful past your lips, swallowing it with a considerable amount of difficulty. Everyone else has nearly finished their dinner, save for Martin. You want to thrust his face into his bowl—maybe then, he’ll finally shut up.

You lift your wine back up to your mouth. The action draws Martin’s focus. His eyes flit down to your minestrone, and then jump to the other empty dishes around the table. At last, he seems to realise the disparity between your meals, because a small, sheepish smile creeps onto his face.

“Lord,” he chuckles, settling into the cushion of his chair. “You all must’ve been ravenous. I’ve hardly touched my food.”

“It’s hard to eat whilst boasting, I’d imagine,” you mutter into your glass.

A loud, hacking cough breaks you out of your little bubble. Your head snaps to the left. Harry is choking on his own wine, chiseled cheeks growing red with exertion. He curls his fingers into a firm fist, pounding a few times on his chest to dislodge the liquid stuck in his windpipe. Reflexively, you place a hand on his arm, your forehead wrinkling in concern.

“You alright, H?” Andrew asks, leaning forward over his plate.

“Fine!” Harry croaks. He makes an indiscernible gesture with his hand, waving your brother’s worries away. “I’m fine, thanks. Just went down the wrong way, that’s all.”

He coughs again, burying the sound into the crook of his elbow.

You watch him with troubled eyes. When your gazes lock, only then do you realise that your palm is still splayed out over his bicep. You pull away quickly, recoiling as though you’ve just passed your knuckles through an open flame. Harry’s body rumbles as he clears his throat. He hooks two fingers into the collar of his button-up, loosening it from where it’s secured tightly around his neck.

Lydia is talking, now, but her declarations fade into the background. You wish that you could concentrate on them—you really do—but you have more far more pressing matters at hand.

Like Harry shooting you a swift, secretive smile, and every piece of the puzzle clicking perfectly into place.

His unassuming sip…your quiet quip…

He’d heard you.

You sit back in your seat, your ears ringing. Harry places one of his hands on the wooden arm of his chair; his knuckles flex painstakingly. Across the table, Andrew and Lydia have resumed their lively conversation. Martin scarfs down the rest of his soup, trying to catch up. The candlesticks perched between your plates melt slowly, a mess of waxy dribbles and drops.

Somewhere in the deep recesses of your mind, you become aware that—for the first time tonight—no one is paying you any attention. The realisation makes you feel giddy, drunk on power and anonymity.

Or maybe that’s just the wine.

You peer down at Harry’s nails, studying them absentmindedly—they’ve been scrubbed clean.

And before you can even begin to register what on earth you’re doing, you reach out, tracing the veins on the back of his hand with one finger. Harry tenses; his concentration immediately falls to where you’re touching him. When you finally muster enough confidence to meet his gaze, you find him watching you with wide, awestruck eyes.

A small part of you is smug—that’s the reaction you’d been searching for at the beginning of the evening. That’s how you’d wanted him to look at you when you made your entrance, wrapped up in a pretty black gown and layers of opaque red lipstick.

You cease your movements and retract your arm, tucking it back against your side as you turn your interest elsewhere. In the periphery of your vision, Harry has pinned you with an unwavering, stunned expression, his body rooted in place. Despite the rapid thumping of your heart, you keep your gaze trained ahead and your chin held high, pride swelling in your abdomen like a hot-air balloon.

Lydia laughs at something that Andrew says. Martin tugs haughtily at the lapels of his suit. You release a heavy exhale and nudge your bowl a few inches away from your chest, completely sated.

~*~

Once everyone retires to their rooms for the evening, you wait approximately an hour before slipping out. You’re light on your feet, sneaking past Lydia’s quarters and the guestroom that was given to Martin for the duration of his stay. He snores—quite loudly, too. You can hear him as though he’s right next to you, even from where you’re hovering out in the hall.

You make your way down the spiral staircase, heading toward the large double doors leading to the backyard. You quickly tug on a delicate pair of slippers before sneaking out into darkness’ cool embrace. Midnight is only a few minutes away.

You pull your wool cardigan a bit tighter around your torso. The hem of your silk nightgown is shorter than that of a standard dress. The wind nips teasingly at your knees, making you shiver. Blades of grass tickle your ankles as you march toward the stables. There’s a single light hanging above the entrance, bathing the wooden panes in a faint yellow glow. Green grass gives way to dry soil and the odd piece of straw littered across the dirt.

Inside the stables, only two of the six pens are occupied. The first one houses Apollo, Andrew’s stallion. His skin is like chestnuts, his mane the colour of the sun. You’re sure that your brother will take him out early tomorrow morning—you doubt that he was able to find many docile steeds in the bustling streets of New York.

You bypass Apollo completely, stopping in front of your horse—Artemis.

She’s a sight to behold, white skin and jet-black hair. She reminds you of the first snowfall of the season: crisp and pure, untainted by footprints and pollution and everything else in between. She’s been your partner in crime for the past decade, even though you’ve spent the last few years simply guiding her along with your feet on the ground and a hand tangled in her reins.

Somewhere beneath the rational layer of your brain, you like to think that she sympathizes with your hesitation to get back on the saddle.

“Psst!” you hiss, leaning against the wooden gate of her pen. “Artemis! Come here, my love.”

She lifts her head up from the floor, chewing on a handful of hay. You dig your fingers into the material of your cardigan, producing a sugar cube from the depths of your left pocket. Artemis’ nostrils flare as you hold it out in your palm; she trots over happily, drawn to the sweet treat.

“Haven’t come to visit you in a few days,” you murmur as she dips her mouth against your hand. You stroke your knuckles down the side of her neck, petting her softly. “I’m sorry about that. Things have been so chaotic back at the house. I’ve barely gotten a moment to breathe.”

She whinnies quietly.

“Did you miss me?” you ask. When she nuzzles her nose into your arm, you smile. “I missed you, too. I thought that maybe you were developing a preference for Lydia. But that’s not possible, is it? I’m your favourite.”

Someone clears their throat from behind you. You gasp and whip around, hands flying to your chest. Your gaze locks onto an amused smirk and a pair of impish green eyes, and your stomach lurches uneasily.

“Hello,” you stammer, air caught in your lungs.

“Hello,” Harry replies.

He’s still dressed in his attire from dinner, though his appearance is significantly more relaxed. He’s abandoned the white bowtie and undone the top two buttons of his shirt, allowing his collarbones to peek out from beneath the pallid fabric. The cuffs of his suit have been rolled up, and his hair has completely fallen from its acute coif. Glossy strands tumble down around his temples, curling in a way that makes you want to reach out and touch them.

“What are you doing here?” you ask. You hope that he doesn’t hear the twinge of embarrassment in your voice. He caught you in the middle of a one-sided conversation with your horse, after all.

Harry holds up his hand. There’s a pale pink envelope clutched between his fingers.

“Post,” he says, like it’s the only reasonable explanation. It is, you suppose. “I was on my way home when I spotted you.”

Home. The little cottage just down the trail—the groundskeeper’s residence. It was built years ago, only a few acres away from the main house. You pass it sometimes when you take Artemis out for a walk. More often than not, you’ve found yourself studying its red bricks and white windowsills, yearning for a peek inside.

“Are you alright?” Harry asks, wrenching you from your thoughts.

“Yes.” You nod, blinking twice. “Your letter—,” you say, desperate to change the subject. “—who is it from?”

And you immediately want to sink into the earth, because it’s none of your bloody business, is it? You have no right to be poking around and questioning him about his personal life. A slight grimace tugs at the corners of your lips, smearing a pained expression across your features.

But Harry just hums, unperturbed by your inquiry.

“My sister,” he tells you, shrugging. “She writes to me from Paris.”

He has a sister?

“Paris,” you echo dumbly. “France?”

His lips twitch. You want to set yourself on fire.

“Does she like it?”

“I think so,” he says, watching you with twinkling eyes. “She wants me to visit her soon, but I’m—” He hesitates, looking away. “Well, I won’t bore you with the details.”

And though he hadn’t let the words slip out, you know exactly what he meant to say.

She wants me to visit her soon, but I’m stuck here.

A pang of guilt ricochets through your chest. Blood thunders in your ears as you direct your attention to the ground, kicking at the dirt below your slippers. You suddenly realise that whilst Harry is fully clothed, you’re dressed in nothing but a flimsy silk nightgown. You wrap your arms around your torso, pulling the sleeves of your sweater over your knuckles.

“Er—”

You glance up at Harry when the awkward noise falls from his mouth. “Yes?”

He lifts his chin and gestures toward Artemis, who has returned to her tasty pile of hay. “She belongs to Lydia, does she not?”

“No, actually,” you reply. “Lydia takes her out, typically, but…she’s mine.”

“I see.” His face renders an innocent type of curiosity, one eyebrow cocked high on his forehead. “Do you ride?”

You balk, nearly choking on your own saliva. “I beg your pardon?”

And just like that, the innocence is gone. Harry’s features melt into a portrait of wicked mirth. His irises glint roguishly as he fixes you with a shrewd, crafty smirk.

“The horse,” he says slowly, his tone ripe with amusement. “Do you ride?”

“Oh,” you croak. “Sorry, I—”

Your nostrils flare as you avert your eyes, too humiliated to meet his gaze. He’s aware of the way in which you interpreted his question. He understands why you were so appalled. He knows exactly where your mind went.

“No,” you answer quickly. “I don’t. Not anymore, at least.”

Harry tilts his head to the side, confused.

“How long has it been?” he asks. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you mount.”

“I stopped a few months before you came to work for us,” you say, playing with a loose thread hanging from your cardigan. After a beat of silence, you add, “There was…an incident. I fell.”

“Oh.” He recoils slightly, taken aback by your revelation. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“It’s alright.” Your feet scuffle against the dusty ground. “Sometimes, I catch myself longing for it, but I just—” You shrug. “I can never seem to get back on.”

“I understand.” His response is excruciatingly sincere.

You watch him out of the corner of your eye. He takes an experimental step forward, gauging your reaction. When you don’t make a move to retreat, he does it again. You chew on the inside of your cheek as he draws nearer, and your heart stutters beneath your ribs when he angles his body to the side, offering you his arm.

“May I walk you back?”

Is there a hint of fondness in his voice, or is it merely your imagination?

“You may,” you concede weakly.

You slide your hand into the crook of his elbow and bid Artemis goodnight. The two of you stroll back up to the estate in silence, enjoying the tranquility of the evening. The wind whistles through the thicket of trees lining the edge of the property. Crickets chirp loudly, seeking shelter between blades of grass. Harry’s body is unbelievably warm, radiating heat despite the slight chill carried by nightfall.

You release his arm once you reach the steps of the back porch. He studies you carefully as you climb the first two stairs, a divot digging into the space between his brows.

All of a sudden, you pause, brought to a standstill by an invisible string. You spin back around, looking down and finding a pair of bright jade eyes in the dark.

“Goodnight, Harry,” you say softly, hands dropping to your sides.

Quicker than a bolt of lightning, he seizes your fingers between his. A faint gasp leaves your mouth when he bows forward and presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles. Harry peers up at you innocuously, pulling his lips away from your skin after a long moment of stillness.

“Goodnight, miss,” he says. The words flow over you like molasses, viscous and warm and inconceivably sweet. “Sleep tight.”

~*~

PART II: The Week

PART III: The Month

if you’re enjoying this series so far, please consider donating to my ko-fi! thank you bunches <3

#harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #there's not a single curse word in this fic holy shit.............i think this is a first for me snfsjsdnsfsjfsn #ANYWAY i hope u like it!!!!! i'll be here if yall wanna chat after lol #farmhandrry #harry writing

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limitlessgojo · 4 years ago

Text

Blood Bound: Red Strings of Fate (Ch 13)

Warnings: Action, Coarse Language, Fighting, Descriptions of Blood

Previous Chapter: Goldenrod

Next Chapter: The More You Know

Next SFW Chapter: Big White Lies

Tags: Soulmates AU, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Fem!Reader

Taglist: @lessie-oxj @rizzo-nero @whoreuc @fkngkumiko @isl3t @gojoussunglasses @onepotatostand-blog @s-t-f-u-b-i-t-c-h @sunaswife @lordguameow @track5enthusiast

Notes: If you want to be tagged for every update, specify if you're okay with nsfw posts or not, and please mention it in the comments below ty ❤

Chapter 13: Home Sweet Home

That weekend you went back home. It was so refreshing to see everyone. You yelped out with joy as you ran over to your cousin “Hiroki niichaaaan~” You jumped into his arms.

He hugged you tight. “How have you been doin lil sis?”

“Very good! I missed you all so much, especially you Hiroki nii." You pouted up at him.

You caught up with your family, had meals with them, and trained with Hiroki. They were most curious about your soulmate, as you have expected.

“What’s he like? Aren’t people from the big 3 clans so stuck up all the time? Even Satoru is full of himself at times, ey?”, Hiroki asked you with a mouthful of food.

“He isn’t too bad to be honest. He’s a gentleman and sweet with me. Decent man. Just, seems a bit like the private type? I mean… Doesn’t talk much about his family even though we are soulmates. Oh I’ve already talked to him about you guys.” You added.

Hiroki tilted his head, “Ehhh… mysterious huh.”

“Give him time. The Kamo Clan aren’t the most open minded people. They’ll feel you out before allowing you in.” Your dad said.

“Even though I’m his soulmate?!” You exclaimed.

Silence. “We don’t know what they’re thinking so we can’t say for sure.”

◇◇◇

“Heh, you’ve gotten better lil sis,” Hiroki dropped low and thrusted out his spear. You jumped and immediately shifted your stance to land a kick on him. He easily parried and slipped out of your range.

Your family specializes in dealing with reverse cursed techniques aside from the occasional esper. Hiroki was only a semi-grade 1, because he trained his ass off for years.

Now that he’s built, he uses cursed tools to help him fight. A strong 185cm man can definitely handle close combat well. And in terms of healing abilities, he was number 1 in the clan.

It was only the women in your family that were able to inherit psychokinesis for some reason. But usually it only applies to a specific thing. Like how your mom can control plants. And your other aunt does with small metallic items like coins and darts.

Mother approached you after your sparring session. "Does he make you happy my dear?" Your mother asked you. Hiroki drank quietly from his water bottle.

You thought about it. The past few months were not easy but really colorful with Noritoshi. Minus the nagging feeling of him covering up his family affairs from you.

But… "He does. I feel so safe with him ma. Like I do with all of you. He is family to me now. I think I really like him and I trust him with my life." You whispered out.

"Then next time, bring him here. We will gladly welcome him with open arms." Hiroki smiled at you and leaned into your side.

◇◇◇

You went to visit your dead older sister’s grave just before you went back to Kyoto Jujutsu High School.

It was just you and Hiroki. You both cleaned the grave, trimmed the weeds, changed the flowers, burned fresh incense, and said your prayers for Sora. It was such a clear day with barely any clouds. The sky was so blue.

Just like her namesake.

Hiroki left you to give you some privacy, saying that he’ll pick you up in 2 hours.

You took a deep breath. “Sora neechan. It’s been a while. Sorry I couldn’t come to see you as often, because I’m currently a student at Jujutsu High.”

“I met this guy. He … So he is my soulmate. The first time I met him, I thought he was pretty. As I got to know him more, I felt as if there was a reason as to why the heavens chose him for me you know? He is really cool, but so warm and sweet with me. I think I’m a little bit in love with him.” You admitted.

“I’m really scared to lose him. After I lost you, I just… it was hard… I try my best to be cheerful and helpful really. But it gets tiring at times. I’m glad I was able to make a lot of friends who understand the life of a Jujutsu sorcerer at least. I tried to open up to Noritoshi a bit more. But it’s hard because he seems so closed off at times.”

You had mixed feelings, because you promised Noritoshi you would trust him more. That means working on anything that bothers you regarding your relationship with him. But can he accept it if you tell him that you want to know more about his family? He already clearly stated he needs more time.

“Am I being too greedy and hasty Sora? I want to support his clan affairs, even if it's just a tiny bit as his soulmate. He seems so troubled with it all the time. Like he wants to carry the burden all alone. I want to help, but he doesn’t really let me. I don’t know. I wish you were still here with me.”

“Last time I asked him about his parents, he snapped at me. Of course he apologized. … Maybe it’s all just in my head. But I do want to meet his family. Eventually. Though at this rate I have no idea when. Everytime I ask about them he just shuts up.”

“Falling in love is way too hard….”

The wind blew as if to agree with you. The leaves rusted in a circular dance just around the grave. You smiled.

You bid farewell to your family after the weekend. Hiroki hugged you tight and whispered, “I hope it gets better for you and Kamo kun soon enough.”

You looked up at him, “Yeah, thanks bro.”

◇◇◇

You texted Noritoshi and let him know that you were on your way back. He said he was free for the evening and that you could come over to his room.

You knocked on his door with anticipation. You opened the door, “I'm back, Toshi!” He pulled you into a tight hug and closed the door behind you. “I missed you. Come in. How was your family? Sorry I couldn’t go with you again.”

“It’s fine! They’re all okay and excited to meet you next time.” You looked up at him. He looked a bit regretful, “Next time I’ll make sure to properly clear my schedule with my father so I can go meet them okay?”

“Ah, okay.” You both walked over to his table and knelt down on the floor.

“I’ve been wanting to tell you this for a while,” you started. Noritoshi looked on intently. “I’ve already told you about my family right? Mom and dad and my other male cousins. Ah, what I didn’t tell you before was… I used to have an older sister. I - uhm. Well she died after being attacked by a curse. I … I hope to bring you to her grave one day.”

Noritoshi’s heart dropped. He pulled you in close. “I’m so sorry to hear that. I’m sure she is proud of you. Of course I’ll go with you to see her next time.” He was now highly regretting choosing to do some useless tasks for some of his clan’s elders instead of spending the weekend with you.

You gripped his clothes tighter. “Thank you, that really really means a lot to me.” You started tearing up, but you blinked your tears away.

"Oh! My family and I have gifts for you. I'm not so sure if you'll like it. It's a Coral and gold bracelet. Everyone in my family has one. It's almost like tradition for us, and we believe it to have a layer of protection. I also brought Jade here for you." You presented the bracelet alongside the Dragon carved Jade Pendant hanging on a thick white gold chain.

Noritoshi's eyes widened. The jewelry was stunning and looked expensive. He may have been favoured as the heir to the Kamo clan, but even he didn't own so much expensive jewelry.

He sputtered out “I appreciate it but I can’t take something so expensive and precious-”

“Noritoshiiii,” you whined out loud, making him stop talking. “You don’t want to accept such a precious gift that I picked out for you?” you whined with the largest puppy eyes.

“No, I- I am grateful. Thank you, I’ll accept it.” Noritoshi conceded.

Got him. You grinned madly as he shook his head. “You’re a dangerous one,” he muttered under his breath. “What was that?” you asked him absentmindedly as you worked on unclasping the bracelet to put it around his wrist. “Nothing, nothing at all dearest.”

You narrowed your eyes at him before grabbing his wrist and putting it on for him. It was a perfect fit. You thanked yourself for loving to hold his hand so much that you knew his general hand measurements.

His hands down to his wrists were so pretty. You didn't realize that you were playing with and smiling down at his fingers until he opened up his hand and linked his fingers with yours.

Slowly, carefully. Falling in love with you was the easiest thing Noritoshi had experienced. Now that he had embraced his emotions and tried to open up to you, it was a bit better now.

'Is this what love is? I don't know since it's my first time experiencing it.' Noritoshi wondered to himself.

It was in the smallest of things with you. He loved the way you would call out his name with loving eyes. The way you would always greet him first before the other senpai. The way you give him coffee and kisses on late and cold nights of studying.

The way your hair smells. Your perfume. The way your eyelids flutter shut when he kisses you. The tightening of his chest and shortness of his breath made apparent whenever he was with you.

The way you don't ask for too much from him. Just that he shows his love to you either by his actions or words. The comfort he simply feels when he is beside you.

He really just needed some time, and seeing you around more often really made up for it.

He ticked the inside of your palm which made you shiver and yelp. He laughed out loud at this and pulled you into his lap, hugging you tightly.

Staying quiet, you buried your head in his chest. You could feel his heartbeat, and it was faster than you expected. But soon it went back down to a steady rate.

"Your heartbeat is so steady, but mine is always wild around you. Noritoshi I feel kinda embarrassed to be honest." You admitted, fingers curling into his kimono.

He smiled and his heartbeat quickened to match yours. You looked up at him in confusion. "Did you just…" He just leaned down to rub his nose against yours. "I am a blood manipulator. I can manipulate my pulse rate darling." You huffed out a laugh, feeling warm and fuzzy.

"I love you." You said suddenly. He stared in shock at your words. You realized that you said it without intending to. But you didn’t take it back.

"Kamo Noritoshi I'm madly in love with you." It wasn't a sudden realisation of being in love. You slowly fell for him again and again each day.

Noritoshi’s brain short circuited.

Suddenly he was kissing you. Tongue slipping into your mouth and playing with yours and rubbing along the roof of your mouth.

You tried to fight his tongue for dominance, but you ended up surrendering, your back bent back with your face turned up towards him.

You clasped your hands around his neck as he pressed deep kisses against the top of your chest. Your face was flushed as you fell limp against him, gasping out heavy breaths. "I'm not going anywhere angel." Noritoshi whispered against your neck, hands tightening possessively against your waist.

‘Please wait a little longer for me. Until I can confirm that these feelings for you are indeed true love.’ His thoughts went unsaid.

The one thing Noritoshi promised to himself is that he would never lie about his feelings for you. To him, the worst he could do was to confess his love without actually being in love with you.

Blood Bound: Table of Contents

#kamo noritoshi #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #itadori yuji #jjk fanfic #fluff #jjk x y/n #jjk x oc #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jjk fic #noritoshi fluff #blood bound #red strings of fate

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dreamii-yume · 4 years ago

Note

but imagine..Stepbrother!Trey 👀👀

Trey had always been that reliable stepbrother that you were so fortunate to have. You never had siblings in your life so, when you found out that your mother had remarried to a guy who has children of more than one quantity, you were anxious but excited at the same time. Upon your first meeting him, Trey was incredibly comforting and knew how to settle you right in. His little siblings were still children who could barely talk and walk at that time, he had already taken the responsibility of taking care of them at an early age. Even if he was only two years older than you, he was already mature and you really respected him for it, making you want to catch with him very soon.

You ended up relying on him a lot too, since your mom and new stepdad had been going out since after getting married, leaving you alone with your new step siblings. Whether it was school work, house chores, and even consulting him during your bad days, Trey was the ideal big brother who had never failed to rush in whenever you needed help. Even if he went to such a prestigious school as Night Raven College, he still managed to visit all of you back at home for his birthday this years.

As someone who had been in his care for ever since you could remember, it’s just natural for you to want to do something for him in return. During your and your little step siblings’ birthday, Trey had always been the one who was talented enough to make a birthday cake for all of you. He even took the responsibility to make his own cake back then too, despite knowing that it’s for his own special day. But you didn’t want that to be the case this year this time, he even went through the trouble of visiting! You wanted to save him the work load of creating a delicious special cake for all of you by taking the job yourself.

“Oh? It’s a mess back here. What are you doing?”

“U-Uhm...”

But of course, leave it to you and your slight miscalculation of time to mess it all up when Trey himself appeared in the kitchen, the same time as you were creating the cake...Well, trying to create the cake to be exact. You didn’t want to tell him what you were actually doing and ruin the surprise but Trey knew more than anyone else how much of a horrible liar you are. So, you gave in and told him your plan, much to your dismay. But to your surprise, Trey actually went and laugh whole-heartedly, patting your head as an appreciative gesture.

“Really? Thanks a lot, I appreciate it.” He said with a smile that makes your heart all warm. He was just too nice. “...And no offense, but it looks like you’re just about to burn the whole kitchen off.”

Then, comes in your pout, you wished he just left that part out. There was a reason why the whole family left all the cooking to Trey and not you. Granted, you might not be the best when it comes to culinary but at least you have the spirit and determination to try...Though it doesn’t really help much when you make simple mistakes such as mixing sugar and salt together. Laughing at your sulking state, Trey adjusted his glasses and grab an apron for himself.

“Alright, I guess big brother just have to help his cute little sister out, huh~?” He said with a wink as he gathers all the materials needed, all measurements memorized perfectly in his head. Though you got excited at the thought of cooking with your kind stepbrother, there was a strange glint in his eyes that you couldn’t quite put your finger around.

...Maybe he was just as excited as you are?

Anyway, Trey helped you out a lot this time, telling you detailed instruction on how to properly measure your ingredients, scale the amount, and overall, preventing you from burning flour. He made sure that you were using the correct type of ingredients too, handing you sugar instead of salt this time, he even editted the recipe you found over the internet to create an even more effective one. A few egg beating and flour sifting later, it all comes down to mixing the dry and wet mixture together to make a simple cake batter.

“Ah, I wouldn’t mix it like that if I were you.” However, you barely even started mixing the mixture when Trey already had something to say. You blinked up at him, wondering what he meant and quite frankly, nervous that you might’ve done something wrong without realizing it. Again, Trey couldn’t help but to chuckle at how baffled you look, finding your expression to be oh-so cute. “Don’t worry, you didn’t do anything necessarily wrong.”

Then, you flinched as he went behind you, taking a hold of your hands, holding the spatula and the other helping you carry the bowl. You blushed at how close he was to you so suddenly, practically leaning your head against his broad chest, you can feel his warmth and it was making your heart race for some reason. “It’s better to mix it this way to avoid unneeded lumps in your batter.” He said, guiding your hand in an elegant circular manner. “Do you get it?”

You hesitantly nodded, face had turned as red as a tomato. He was unusually close to you that it was making you nervous, your hands were shaking under his touch. What’s wrong with you all of a sudden? Sure, he’s close but he’s your step brother, someone who had been a part of your family and you’ve been so close to. Surely, it’s just natural for the two of you to be this...intimate, right?

“Whoa there, What’s wrong? You almost dropped the bowl just now, you know?” You snapped out of your own thoughts as you lost grip on the mixing bowl. Luckily, Trey was there to catch before it can come crashing down to the ground and ruin the hard work placed into making that batter.

“E-Eh...!? Um...!” You stuttered out, unable to look at him in the eyes. He still hasn’t let go of your hands, so you have no way of fiddling with them in comfort. You looked down, trying to hide such a deep blush spreading across your cheeks. “Um, sorry...! It’s just that y-you’re really, really...Close...I-I can’t...F-Focus...!”

Trey blinked, humming in the most relaxed way, as if you weren’t panicking like a flustered high school girl. That’s making you even more embarrassed, he should’ve at least give out some reaction! “...Is that so?” Trey said and for a second, you thought that he would understand and give you back your personal boundaries. He was just that kind of person after all! However, imagine your surprise when he crouched down closer to you instead. “How about this?”

His voice echoed right through your ear, it sent shivers down your spine especially when you thought about how deep it sounded, like he turned into a different kind of person. “U-Um...!” You attempted to turn around to confront him about it, to tell him to stop messing with you but frozed when you felt his teeth suddenly nibbling down on your neck. “T-Trey-nii!? W-What are you...!?”

With the bowl and spatula in your hands, it was difficult to struggle against your much larger step sibling. He even adjusted his hold on your hand to grasp on your wrist so you wouldn’t be able to use them like how you want to. “T-Trey-nii...!” You called out, shutting your eyes tight, lips quavering as blood rushed inside your head. He resorted into biting your neck now, his tongue licking your flesh that you were sure that there was going to be a mark in there somewhere. If there was then hiding them from everyone else around you would be a challenge. That’s not even mentioning the fact that they might ask you where it came from, you can just imagine how awkward that can turn out! “S-Stop...T-This is- Nngh...! This is w-weird...”

You heard him give a slight chuckle, it sounded way too different from his usual big brother-like laughter, it gave you the chills. “Really?” He said as he took the bowl in your hand and spatula out of your hand, setting them aside before turning you around. You gasped as he trapped you between the table and his body with no chance of escaping. “Then, is this better?”

“Huh-“

Before you could react, you widened your eyes as Trey, your step brother, slammed his lips against yours, a bit too aggressively. He found a way to open your mouth, letting his tongue run around free inside you, not even giving you a chance to protest. “Mm...Mmgh...!?” You squeaked, pushing against his chest but flinched when you felt his large hands caressed the outline of your ass. With no other choice, he prompted you over the table, running his hands on your soft thighs in the process. He managed to hitch up your shirt, to create an opening for his hands to fondle your protected breast in.

You whimpered against the kiss as he slowly got underneath your bra, finding your cherry very quickly to stimulate them. His knee kept your thighs open, cleverly rubbing against your clothed flower until it gathers enough love juice to soak on. “Haa...T-Trey...nii...” You tearfully let out, hands trembling on his chest as he finally let go of your mouth to suck in enough air. “...W-What...Why are you...Mmgh...”

You couldn’t finish what you wanted to say, too overwhelmed by the sudden feelings that’s being forced upon you. Instead, Trey gave you a comforting but mischievous smile, one that stirs mixed feelings inside you. “Why, you say?” He said, lifting up your thighs, encouraging them to wrap around his waist, in which you unconsciously began to do so. You squeaked as his hands shot up underneath your skirt, feeling your wetness through your underwear. “You’ve been very good that it’s just natural for me to reward you, right?”

“B-But this is...!” You tried protesting, only to be hushed with his index finger preventing your mouth to go on further. Trey only smirk, invoking tears on either sides of your eyes, both out of fear and nervousness. “...T-This is wrong...W-We’re...We’re...!”

“That doesn’t matter right now. What matters is that the both of us experiences a good time.” He said as you breath heavily once he began to unzip his fly, your eyes wouldn’t leave to stare at the massive excitement he has down there. Licking his lips, he pulled your panties aside, just enough to fit himself in and revealing just how soaked you are underneath. You whimpered, you felt his twitching cock poked against your anticipating slit. “...Okay?”

Without waiting for your response, Trey took advantage of your dumbfounded state to capture you off-guard and pushed himself in your little tight hole. In response, you grasped his back and dug your nails against his skin, yelping out loud once you felt him enter. “A-Agh...!” You exclaimed, blinking tiny tears away as your toes clenched, your insides working hard to make way for his size. “O-Ow...! T-Trey-nii, it...I-It hurts...!”

Trey grunted, but still managed to bring out a comforting smile for you as he caressed your cheeks, wiping away your tears. “...Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.” He said. “It’ll get better, I promise...Big brother will make it all better.”

You panted as your whole body twitched, you closed your eyes shut, clinging onto Trey as he began to move in and out of you. The whole procedure felt as if you’re burning on the inside, especially when he would slam deep inside you, hitting a very special spot. You didn’t know what was going on in your step brother’s mind to cause him to do this, but you chose not to prod in deeper. Instead, you hug him closer by the neck, whimpering as you waited for the pleasure that Trey promised he would bring. You don’t know what to make of this, suddenly being fucked by your step brother against the kitchen table as if it was the most natural thing to have ever occurred.

“(Y/N)...I love you, I love you...” You can hear Trey chant against your ear, the same phrase he repeats over and over like a broken record as he embraces you tight. You knew this was wrong and every time he thrusts deep, it fills you with shame that you’re even letting this happen. You said it so yourself, Trey is your family and yet...!

“Ah!” You exclaimed as Trey suddenly hit the entrance of cervix rather severely. All these action was making you unable to think straight, ultimately leading you to a conclusion that maybe...Maybe Trey was just not in the right state of mind after all? You could only imagine how stressful his life might’ve been in Night Raven, maybe this was just his way of letting out some of that steam? He had always been such a kind and patient big brother to everyone around him, you have never seen him sound and look so...feral before. It’s...It’s so wrong in a lot of levels and it’s indeed strange but...You did say you wanted to take some load off his shoulders, right?

...Aren’t you technically helping him out...?

You don’t know, but in some way, Trey’s thrusts were getting a bit more unhinged, way more aggressive. So, you guessed that it’s a sign that you’re doing a good job at it? His constant praises and I love you’s were getting louder too, it’s making you feel dirty, hearing him say of how good you feel but he sounds like he’s feeling a lot better. You knew it was wrong, that this was something shouldn’t do as family, but you can’t deny that it was making you feel good about yourself. That you’re somehow able to help out your hard-working big brother.

That’s right...You’re only helping him out. Just this once, it’s weird, but you can handle it at least. It’s your precious step brother’s birthday, after all, the least you can do is to let him do whatever he wants with you. With your body. No matter how...sinful and twisted it may be.

What are you doing, Trey Stepbro~? (΄◉◞౪◟◉｀)

#twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere #trey clover #yandere trey clover #Birthday Crumbs (Trey)

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anjanettexcordonia · 4 years ago

Text

Secrets

Book: The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir A/U

Rating/Triggers: Mature (18+); domestic violence

Pairings: Drake x MC, Liam x MC (kinda)

Word count: 1254 (+/-)

A/N: Please excuse any grammatical errors.

A/N: I have been on a hiatus due to personal circumstances (Dumpster Fire 2021 comin at ya) but this is hopefully my comeback! Thanks for sticking with me!

Disclaimer: Some characters & some scenes belong to Pixelberry. I have been working on this on and off since November 2020. Hope ya enjoy.

Tags: If you would like to be added or removed please let me know.

HUGE SHOUT OUT TO @txemrn (without her I would have never finished) & @jessiembruno for pre-reading (even if you don’t remember)

Chapter 1

Liam sat alone at a small circular table with high backed cushioned stools in a pizzeria in New York City. He couldn’t ever visit New York without having an authentic slice of New York style pizza. He sat staring out the large picture window at the snow falling steadily. A large greasy slice of in front of him. He was consumed in his own feelings of loneliness and isolation when the silhouette of a figure caught his attention standing on the sidewalk. He squinted his eyes to try to get a better view through the falling snow. Liam watched as a petite raven haired woman with a white pea coat wrapped tightly around her attempted to hail a cab in front of the shop. A cab flew by her and spewed snow at her causing her to slip on the icy sidewalk beneath her. Liam jumped from his table and ran out the front door of the restaurant to help her.

“Miss, are you okay?” Liam asked as he held out his hand to the beautiful dark haired woman.

“Oh... uh... I’m fine. Thank you, uh, thank you for your help sir.”

The woman replied brushing her long blue black tendrils from her face. She attempted to pull herself from the ground unsuccessfully without taking his hand. Liam hoisted her up by her elbow anyway.

“I’m Liam.” His bright blue eyes shown through the moonlight drawing Alexa into them.

Alexa took a step back avoiding eye contact. “Liam, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Liam nodded his head with a warm smile. A megawatt smile that would make any girl's heart skip a beat. Alexa’s breath hitched at the crooked smile he gave her.

“Goodbye then.” Alexa turned and walked away in the opposite direction.

Liam was intrigued by the woman. He felt a strange tingle down his spine when his eyes met hers. Those eyes. He had never seen anything like them. One eye a golden honey, the other ice blue with flecks of grey. He hoped to see her again; but, in this bustling city with the population of almost half of his small Mediterranean country, what were the chances of that?

Liam stood in silence, staring up at the Statue of Liberty. She was a beacon of freedom he could never fully grasp. At home, he was Heir Apparent to the throne of an absolute monarchy; his citizens kissed his feet in belief his bloodline was touched by God, like most kings of the past. Unlike in his country, the United States of America, where every citizen was free to choose. Free to elect their leaders. Free to not feel the pressures of leading a country from birth. He hoped to be a good king one day. He hoped to establish a balance of power within his country without undermining its traditions. He hoped to lead his country to a constitutional monarchy, not absolute. He envied this country that was built on freedom. Who would he have been born here? Who would he be without the crown? He thought back to his childhood friend, the only American he really knew. He had met American diplomats, sure, but never knew much about them. Those mismatched eyes flash in his mind. The shiny dark curls that framed those beautiful eyes hidden deep in his mind.

“Sir?”

A voice startled Liam breaking his thoughts and snapping him back to reality.

“Bastien?”

Liam’s head of security had slinked from the shadows.

“We found him, sir. I’ve contacted his secretary. Dinner is scheduled for tomorrow night.” The guard spoke in a stern yet soft voice.

“Thank you, Bastien.” Liam’s thoughts returned to his former friend.

Drake Walker was his best friend. They grew up together until Drake went off to college in America. Drake's mother was an American and his father was Cordonian. His father was a top military general in the King’s Guard. Jackson Walker, Drake’s father, was killed in the line of duty and his mother and sister went back to America after his tragic loss. They had promised to stay in touch after Drake left. Time ticked by and communication had dwindled. It had been five years since they had last spoken. Last Liam knew, Drake was still in New York. He had become a big shot real estate developer living on the Upper East Side. Bastien had tried to contact Drake after an assassination attempt on Liam’s life, but Drake never returned the call.

Across town, Alexa was feeling anxious after her encounter with the kind stranger, Liam. If she had been seen conversing with a handsome man or any man for that matter her husband would not be happy, especially as handsome as he was. His smile and bright eyes flashed through her mind. She was rushing to get home before her husband. He wouldn’t be happy if she were late. Punctuality was very important to him, but only when it came to her.

Alexa made it home just in the nick of time. She let out a sigh of relief. He wasn’t home yet. She was hoping he would be late. Alexa winced, peeling her coat from her limbs. She hung her coat on the coat rack. She threw her snow covered boots in the hall closet. She felt a stinging pain in her back when she bent down. She lifted her shirt in the hallway mirror and saw a bright purple bruise from her fall forming. Fuck, he will have questions if he sees this..

“Alexa, where are you?”

She heard the front door open and keys being tossed furiously on the entry table.

“Hello, dear,” Alexa rounded the hallway to the living room. “Um, how--how was your day?” she stutters.

“It was fine,” he answered coldly, his gaze glued to his phone. “I received a strange phone call on my way home.”

“Oh?” Alexa felt her heart begin to race. Surely no one saw me. “From who?”

He scoffs. “An old friend from childhood would like to have dinner tomorrow night. 6pm sharp. Nobu.” He kicks off his shoes as he feverishly texts on his cell. “You will meet me there. Do not dress too provocatively. And try not to embarrass me this time.” She could sense the aggravation in her husband’s voice. “I’m going to change and go out. Don’t wait up.”

Alexa stared at her feet as she nodded her head complacently.

The next evening, Alexa stared at herself in the mirror in a black chiffon dress with plunging neckline and strappy Christian Louboutins. Her long dark hair flowed in loose curls down her back. She was already dreading this dinner. She knew her husband would find something she did to humiliate him;she would regret it later. She arrived promptly at the upscale restaurant. Her husband was waiting with the maitre’d for her. He forced a smile.

“Alexa,” he placed his hand on her lower back. Her skin crawled at the feel of his hand “Do not embarrass me,” he whispered as he guided her to the private table.

“Drake,” the man at the table said warmly.

“Rhys, so good to see you,” Drake said in a tone Alexa didn’t recognize. His tone was calm and smooth.

“And who’s this?” The warm baritone voice of her husband’s childhood friend asked.

“This is my wife Alexa Walker. Lex, this is Liam.”

Alexa’s head immediately snapped up at the name. Liam immediately recognized her unique eyes, an instant connection flowed through the room, almost tangible.

Domestic Abuse Hotline: 1.800.799.SAFE

#theroyalromance #fanfiction #liam

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dr-imagines-modfuyuhiko · 4 years ago

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Love Hotel with Shuichi x GN!reader

Request from a friend, they asked to remain anonymous :)

I might make a part 2 but I have so many ideas for part 2’s

Category: Angstish(?) fluff imagine

Specifics (we got a lot here): GN!reader, it’s the reader’s love hotel scene, reader is Ultimate Actor, reader shows themself as having a childish mindset but basically has Kotoko’s backstory (basically it’s just a front), Shuichi knows about reader’s history, this is in Shuichi’s POV

Warnings: Suggestive/implied NSFW (it’s the Love Hotel Scenes what do you expect-), mentions of sexual abuse, and here you can read Kotoko’s backstory for context if you’d like

N/n means nickname- and yes I’m saying “actor” instead of “actress”, we don’t call female doctors “doctress”

Every time I come here, I play the role of their "ideal." Like some shared fantasy. I wonder what Y/n’s fantasy is, I can’t see how their’s could be bad considering how innocent they are. I guess I’ll see how Y/n’s-fantasy-me would compare to actual me. Maybe I can even confess to them in real life?

I brought my gaze up before my thoughts took up the whole time. Y/n stood across from me, their face holding that childlike smile that I adored.

“Hey! Hey Shuu!” Y/n jumped at me in a hug. I tried to keep my balance best I could while they kept their grip on my secure.

“A-ah, ‘Shuu’?” They’ve never called me that kind of nickname before. Did they want to call me that outside this place? Wait- I shouldn’t question what they do, they might wake up irritated. “Um, Y/n?”

“Hmm? No more ‘N/n’?” Y/n’s lips curled into a small playful pout.

“Uh, sorry N-N/n, I forgot,” I attempted to make it seem like I had used the name before. Did they want me to call them that outside of this hotel?

“Did you forget or were you not sure if you should call me that?” Y/n laughed a bit into our embrace. They backed away just enough to keep holding onto me, but now I could see their face, “Ya know, for a detective, you’re pretty unsure sometimes. Not to mention that anxiety even with people you’re close with.”

“U-uh, I guess I am..” Is that really how they see me? A lousy detective?

Almost as if they were reading my mind they blurred out “Ah- I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make your thoughts be mean and bubble up again!” Y/n’s words were quick, trying to reassure me. “What I mean is you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself, Shuu! You’re an amazing detective! I mean you were able to prove my case when we first met, right?”

So I am still a detective, I’m still me. Or well, the me that had a history with them. Ignoring the reddening on my face, I decided to figure out what exactly our history was. “What case was that?”

“You proved the truth about my mother and those men to that stinky judge, Shuu!” They playfully slapped my chest, smiling widely. So it seems I’ve solved a case involving their mother and some men.. wait, they couldn’t possibly mean those men, right??

I know their mother forced them to do some.. less than appropriate things with older men for spots on shows and movies. They had told me about it after they panicked at the word “gentle”. In reality, those men and their mother were still free, so I understand that Y/n would fantasize that they’re in jail. But in their fantasy, I’m the one who solved the case?

“You taking on so many cases you forgot?” They giggled and suddenly took my arm, leading me to the circular bed.

“W-wah?! Y/n- er N/n!”

“Com’nnnn! You need some reassurance, you’ve helped me so much, Shuu!”

Once we were sat on the edge of the bed, they leaned against my arm, tugging at it softly. I hesitantly wrapped my arm around their back. This apparently didn’t satisfy them as Y/n pulled my other arm around their front and laid so they could lean into my chest. I’m surprised they didn’t feel the heat radiating from my face.

Their voice was like nothing I’ve ever heard from them before. It was calm, solemn, it was serious but full of emotion.

“You helped me so much Shuu.. when you solved the case.. got those guys in jail.. when you let me take jobs in your father’s movies and alongside your mom..”

My parents? It makes some sense considering they know my mom is an actor and my dad is a screenwriter.

“You helped me start a new life as a new actor.. you even are kind enough that you let me stay with you.. and I can’t thank you enough..”

Feeling Y/n’s head moving to look up at me from my chest, I snapped out of my thoughts and looked down. Their face was a little sad but still held that small childish smile that was slowly falling apart. I guess the persona is almost like another character for them to play as a coping mechanism. More than I originally knew.

When Y/n first told me about their past, their voice was calmer, yes, but it was still in a cutesy manner. They’d use words like “touchy-feely” when describing the men and how they had had “enoughsies” of it. But now, it was almost all gone, this was the real Y/n. Well, as real as a fantasy can get.

“I guess I haven’t really shown how grateful I really am, huh Shuu?” They lightly laughed, their smile growing just a bit.

“You’ve thanked me alrea-” Before I could finish my sentence, Y/n pushed me down so my back was against the bed and they straddled my hips. “W-wait, Y/n! What are you d-doing?!”

Their only response was a giggle, the persona was back. Y/n moved their hands to my chest, keeping me laying down. They moved to firmly sit on my thighs instead of on my... well... ya know...

“I wanna thank you, Shuu! Show you my appreciation... if you’ll let me...” Their head tilted in question.

I didn’t want to take advantage of the situation I was in or violate them in any way. Wait, this is their fantasy, and they clearly want to do something with me like this. Not wanting to put them in a bad mood when they awoke, I slowly nodded, keeping my gaze on their actions.

-(Cut off here cause like... Love Hotel ain’t got nsfw, but if you want the nsfw and/or a part 2 as either Shuichi’s LHS or out of the LHS, feel free to request)-

#shuichi x reader #shuichi saihara x reader #shuichi saihara #danganronpa shuichi #shuichi danganronpa #danganronpa imagines #drv3 #drv3 imagines #drv3 shuichi

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birdwonder · 5 years ago

Note

Could you do a little scenario of the bucci gang where the fem! s/o dies, but then come back as a vampire? ( Can you also make it like a narancia x reader? ) Thank you so much in advance❤

|| call me Bobo the clown because i think i strayed from what you wanted dhjsdj. i dont think i’ve ever written angst properly before so i REALLY winged this but i hope the ending makes up for it! if u wanted smth a lil different feel free to ask again. also i may have made this more Naranacia heavier than Bucci Gang orientated, if that’s ok!

tw : angst but im not good at it ! also death

Narancia Ghirga | I missed you.

It wasn’t fair. This wasn’t fair. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, FUCK. Why did everything bad have to happen to him?! Why was it always him that bad thinks had to happen to?

First his mother, and now you. Narancia couldn’t take it anymore; his heart couldn’t take it anymore. He had thought that he found someone to finally fill that empty place in his heart that was waiting for endless amounts of love and affection, and he did. It was you.

You did everything and anything to make Narancia happy; laughed at his jokes, danced with him, listened to his interests and horribly rapped along with his favourite songs. All the little things to keep a smile on his face that were the world’s biggest things ever for him. Words alone couldn’t tell you how much he appreciated you - no. Loved you. God, he loved you so much and everyone knew it.

Bucciarati, Fugo, Mista… Even Abbacchio who never cared for romantic things.

Too many hours were spent between Fugo and Narancia over the raven haired male ranting about how wonderful you were, and how when he was old enough and smart enough, he wanted to marry you and treat you everyday as though you were a queen. The blond had seriously had enough at one point, finding the fact the two of you were constantly tiptoeing around your feelings for each other to be almost insufferable - his breaking point being when drawings of you and Narancia standing on top of an enlarged Aerosmith replaced where equation answers should be.

After an hour of pressuring from his younger friend and the Ghirga refusing to even attempt asking you out had passed, he finally caved and decided to try his luck. It was you after all. The best thing that’s ever happened to him, aside from joining the Passione, you could never break his heart!

But you did - and it was his fault, not your’s.

He was so stupid to get attached to you. The two of you were in the mafia, you were gangstars, not two teenagers in a romantic story. It was expected that lives would be lost but Narancia’s naïvety convinced him that the two of you were somehow immortal. That was until you were killed.

You were taken out in cold blood and left just that, the same thing that stained the young gangster’s hands that held your body as he screamed at the sky and God for letting this happen. Why? Why you? Someone, anyone, just tell him why.

It wasn’t just him who mourned either. Fugo held you close to his heart as he did Narancia, seeing the both of you as his two idiots, grateful that you were around to help encourage your mutual friend to try hard in his studies. The moment he found you lying on the ground, lifeless and sprawled out as a pathetic display, hot tears ran down his face as he proceeded to punch a brick wall with enough force to roughen and tear his skin. “I could have helped her! I should have been here!” Fugo yelled to himself, though it was drowned out by Narancia’s blood curdling cries for you to wake up and that he was sorry for not finding you sooner.

Fugo only stopped punching the wall when Bucciarati gently took hold of his wrist, the Capo holding back a look of pain to help support those who he thought needed it more. Inside however, he saw himself as a poor excuse of a leader. You were the helpful kind and always tried to support Bucciarati when the weight of being in charge got to him, and how did he repay you? By letting you be killed.

No one was in high spirits in that moment.

Giorno could only stand a far distance away, silently apologising to your spirit for not being able to have set his goal sooner to stop you from having to meet this fate. Next to him was Trish, who had known for you a far shorter time than anyone else though knew that the two of you could have had a close future while pitying everyone else’s loss. Abbachio failed to even look at you. He was a mixture of pissed and distraught yet failed to show either emotion, keeping his back to you instead. He didn’t have the will to look at his fallen friend.

Unlike everyone else, Mista played a foreign role. He sucked up what he was feeling and consoled Narancia instead.

He was the one who pulled away the kicking and screaming teen that yelled that you had to be alive. The one that held him close and let his sweater be stained with enough tears to revive a drought ridden river. It hurt but he knew it hurt Narancia more.

After the shock had subsided, your body was respectfully moved somewhere safe and in the open so you could be found. Time was of the essence and with other Passione members coming after Trish, there was no time for a proper burial that they could attend.

Everyone had stayed strong after that but there was still a sunken feeling in their hearts; Narancia’s worst of all.

“How… How can you be here?”

The words were quiet and airy when Narancia spoke, his eyes wide and jaw almost dropped when he saw what was in front of him. Specifically, who.

Free flowing hair whipped in the night’s wind, the shine of moonlight illuminating the figure of someone that the stand user knew too well. You were there, right in front of him in the open as though you had never been murdered in the first place.

A smile made it’s way onto your lips as you fixed the loose strands, parted lips revealing two prominent fangs that required a double take and a rub of the eyes to be officially accepted. Taking a step forward, you crouched down to caress the cheek of the love of your life who had dropped to his knees from the shock of seeing his deceased crush stand before him.

“No, you’re dead. I saw your corpse, [F/N]! You can’t be here!” Narancia tried to argue though it was truly between himself opposed to him trying to reason to the dead girl walking in front of him. His tears ran down his cheeks, thinking that this was a cruel trick being played on him or an enemy stand trying to get to him.

“Nari, it’s me, baby,” you assure him, talking to him gently in the same tone you always used for him when he was upset or angry. It was like a child hearing a mother’s lullaby for Narancia. Therapeutic and loving. “I’m back and I’m so, so sorry I left you.”

It was you - it had to be.

No one could talk to him let that and make him want to leap into their arms, not a single soul would even try to use such an affectionate nickname either or place their hands on him like you would. It really was his [F/N].

Hiccuping from his tears, he let out a wail before throwing himself towards you, arms wide and trying to cover every inch of your cold, paler body, his strength almost making you wheeze. Who could blame him though? He felt as though as soon as he let you go, you’d be gone again. “[N- N/N]! Tesoro! My [F/N]! I, I missed you sooo much!”

Narancia’s gross sobbing only worsened and you laughed a little, rubbing his back slowly in circular motions while your own watery beads started to form, threatening to spill at any second. “Not as much as I have, Nari! You won’t believe what happened for me to get here - I woke up as a vampire! It was all thanks to-”

“I don’t care!” He cut you off. His head lifted to look up a you, a smile and teary eyes meeting your own. “It doesn’t matter how you’re here, I’m just glad you are! I needed you so much and now you’re back so- so, we can go back to doing what we used to! And I can finally tell you, I love you [F/N!]”

The quick paced ramble was a lot to take in for you yet you managed to understand it in no time, your first reaction to lovingly hug Narancia with all your returned might and kiss his forehead. “I love you too, baby, I won’t ever leave you again.”

#jjba x reader #narancia ghirga #narancia x reader #bucci gang #bucci gang x reader #request #angst

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spriteandnicotine · 5 years ago

Text

Paper Lanterns

Fandom: Haikyuu

Pairing: Sugawara x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 1.4K+

A/N: Doing this for Haikyuuwritersnet June event! It’s my first one for them so I hope you enjoy it <3 I also like to think that Suga volunteers at a cat shelter in his free time. I also would like to thank @megalodon-writes and @strawbirb for helping me bounce ideas off of them, and @gayforgreen-martians for being my Beta reader <3

Prompt: A and B’s plans to go to the festival didn’t quite pan out. Seeing how upset A is, B sets up their own home-made viewing in the backyard

As you are unlocking your car, your pone begins to buzz in your back pocket. You take it out and when you see who it is, butterflies begin to flutter inside your stomach. You swipe your thumb across the screen and place the phone to your ear.

“Y/N? I don’t think I can come to the festival. I was on my way home and spotted a kitten who appeared to be abandoned. She’s pretty young, so I picked up milk formula and a bottle. I need to feed her every 3-4 hours so I’ll need to stay home.” As Suga says this, you feel your heart sink.

Crestfallen, you respond, “Oh. U-um, I guess I’ll just stay ho-”

Before you can finish your sentence, he interrupts, “No, please, come over. I bought supplies for us to make our own paper lanterns while I was out.”

“Okay! I’ll see you then!” You hang up and clutch the phone to your chest, take a deep breath, and pull the door open.

You climb in, hook the phone into the aux, start the car, and turn on your favorite song on repeat.

As you pull into Suga’s driveway, you turn the volume down so you won’t be too embarrassed. You grab your phone and exit the car, holding your keys over your shoulder to lock the vehicle behind you.

Before you knock, Suga appears in the doorway, holding a tiny black kitten with white tufts of fur sprinkled throughout her body. Your heart starts pumping rapidly.

Suga holds the glass door open with one arm while securely holding the little cat in his other.

You slide off your flip-flops and pick them up in your right hand, then enter the Sugawara residence. Suga closes the door behind you and leads you straight through to the back yard.

There is a small sunflower garden on the right side of the yard. In the center, there are two chairs next to a fire. Next to the chairs is a circular glass table with s’mores and paper lantern supplies. Further back are several cherry blossom trees, filled sporadically with green leaves.

“Where are your parents?” you ask while slipping your shoes back on.

He smiles and puts some sandals on while he replies, “They wanted to go to the festival. It ends in about two hours.”

The realization that you will be alone with him while watching the sunset hits and your pulse kicks into high gear, blood rushing to your face.

Suga leads you to the chairs and sits down in the one on the left. You join him by sitting in the other. The sweet rich scent of cedar burning hits your nostrils as the warmth from the fire heats the tips of your fingers and toes.

You look up to the sky and take in the beautiful view. There are birds flying along the orange purple and pink backdrop. Fluffy clouds are scattered above the sun. You can feel Suga’s eyes on you, so you turn to face him.

Once your eyes meet his, the kitten lets out a tiny mew. You immediately glance toward her and hold your hands out to take her.

He transfers the cat into your hands and pulls a bottle of milk out of his pocket. You set her down on your lap and take the bottle from him gently guiding the nib into her mouth.

As she is drinking, Suga speaks, “Y/N sure is cute.”

You look at him in shock. “Oh, I decided to name her Y/N Junior,” he explains.

“Oh,” you chuckle, trying to be nonchalant.

You look down to Junior, running one finger down her fragile back. Suddenly, you hear Suga blow a burst of air out from his mouth. Upon looking over, you see a charred marshmallow on a poker. He places a piece of chocolate delicately on the graham cracker, then places the marshmallow on top, using another graham cracker along with pressure to remove the poker.

He wakes a bite and smiles wide, “I love s’mores.”

“Yeah, but they’re way better when the marshmallow isn’t burnt,” you respond.

He looks at you quizzically before sticking two marshmallows on the poker and handing it to you. You place the empty bottle into the built-in cup holder on the chair and grab the poker, holding it carefully six inches above the flames. After one side crisps to a light golden brown, you rotate the marshmallows to finish toasting them to perfection.

You hold the poker out to him and ask, “Would you do the honors?”

He grabs enough for two, constructing the desserts quickly and with precision. Once the marshmallows are off, you lay the stick against the bricks surrounding the fire, careful to not only ensure it stays in place, but to keep from waking Y/N Junior.

Suga hands one to you once you are sitting upright again and an idea pops into your head, “Taste test on three... one... two... three!” you say, taking a large bite out of the sweet treat.

You hear an audible “mmm” from Suga as the flavors swirl around in your own mouth. The chewy marshmallow mingles wit the crunchy graham cracker as the chocolate melts.

“I guess I get why they call them s’mores,” you stare at him blankly as he continues, “It’s because once you have one, you always crave s’more!” You can't help it...a laugh escapes from your lips.

“Let’s see you do it the right way then, hot shot,” you say, handing him the poker with one hand while popping the rest of the snack into your mouth with the other.

Suga obliges, placing two marshmallows onto the device. You watch as he attempts to imitate your process.

Unfortunately, he is holding the poker at a slightly downward angle, and a marshmallow falls into the pit. He quickly withdraws the poker, but the other marshmallow touches the flames. He blows it out and lays the stick on the ground, looking defeated.

“How about I stick to roasting the marshmallows from now on?” you ask, nudging him on the shoulder.

“Okay, but one day I’ll get it right and then I’ll show you!” He says.

Between you roasting the marshmallows, him constructing the s’mores, and the both of you devouring them, time passes quickly. Before you know it, fireflies emerge from hiding, joining the stars to twinkle in the sky.

Suga passes you a lantern and a marker. “My family has a tradition where we write our hopes on the sides of these lanterns before we let them fly away,” he explains.

You write yours down as he does his. He secretly lights his and lets it fly away, then hands a matchbook to you. You light yours and let it go, then quickly fan the match through the air until the flame goes out.

Not long after, fireworks begin, which startles Y/N Junior out of her cat nap. “Do you mind if we move inside? It will muffle the sounds of the explosions so Y/N can sleep,” Suga points out.

You stand up, carefully cradling the kitten in your arms and make your way to the house. You slide off your flip-flops and stand to the side while he opens the door for you. You enter and follow Suga through the house.

He opens another door, revealing a room full of volleyball posters. The bed is neatly made with black linens, and there is a huge sit-in window taking up the wall facing the fireworks. Suga sits on the bed, propping himself up on his elbows. He looks between you and the bed, as if he were trying to tell you to join him.

You oblige, sitting with your back against the array of pillows. The air conditioner turns on, causing you to shiver. You feel Suga shift to grab something off the bed frame, then drape it across your back. From the feel of the material you can tell it’s his athletic jacket.

“So Y/N, what did you wish for?” He asked.

You pick up the kitten and hold her in the air so she is facing you as you respond, “I want her to grow big and strong, and I would like to be there for it too. What about you?”

At this point, he is watching the fireworks explode into the sky while you admire Junior’s cute face.

“Y/N look at me,” he says. You set the cat in the space between the two of you and turn to face him. “I was wishing for the courage to do this,” he says, sliding his fingers into your hair. His lips meet yours and sparks of electricity reach every cell in your body. The kiss ends in sync with the finale of fireworks, and you are happy that Suga held his own private viewing with you.

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bartholomew-junior · 10 months ago

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gothi 1, 18, 19?

1 . i think she’s a hell of a character, for starters /pos. she’s in kinda the same boat as xanu, aka canonically ancient but doesn’t have a lot of life experience, but i think the fact she adapts so quickly and hell, is kind of (kind of) less socially awkward than a chunk of the group is impressive. her caretaker tendencies are fascinating, and the way she contrasts the group as a kind of rooted down tree who rolls with the punches (for better or for worse. hey, she’s adaptable) as compared to erina who thinks she’ll flake and sips who isn’t used to having someone like that is,, ugh its great.

18 . immediately, i think of sips and gothi. its kind of the same thing with gothi and erina, except he’s more,, active, i guess, for better or for worse. two things come to mind: when he tells the party he wants to split, and when he asks gothi why she won’t let him apologize (also when he asks her to dance, but that’s just me). in both of these situations, he knows what he wants, and in both, he’s also trying to do right by her. in both instances, she also resists, which is usually what he does. its kind of an inversion of their usual dynamic? which is interesting to me. either way, sips depends on gothi even if he doesn’t want to, and gothi depends on all of them a lot.

19 . its not so much a relationship i dislike, but i’m cautious towards, which is the friendship between xanu and gothi. off the bat, i’m,,, not thrilled? about the xanu x gothi shippers. i get where they’re coming from, but i don’t see it. additionally, i think gothi’s resolve to be friends with both xanu and sips won’t end well, but that’s a plot thing. otherwise, i like them, and i see potential, especially if gothi loses her shit.

summary: banger character, she’s so cool, i hope she gets a break after stopping some megalomaniac from absorbing a sun. 10/10

#thank u again circular #i always appreciate these <3 helping me take my mind off stuff #i love analyzing :D #feel free to call in again and don’t hold back #fools gold dnd

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kickingitwithkirk · 5 years ago

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Happy Coincidence Chance Discovery

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Piper, Jared Padalecki x Piper,

Characters: Dean Winchester /Jensen Ackles, mentions of Chad Michael Murray

Word Count:4367

Warnings: cursing, kissing, nudity, implied sex/genital fondling/teasing

*Jared and Jensen are single.

A/N: for @idreamofplaid Thanks for the Memories Challenge #plaid and the memories HAPPY BIRTHDAY JARED🎉

Prompt: Season 11, episode 4, Baby

A/N: Baby is my favorite episode but every time I’ve watched it I kept wondering; Sam’s hook up with Piper the waitress? So this is my fill in that blank with a Jared twist.

Divider: created by @writeyourmindaway

*No beta all mistakes are mine

Dean drives into the parking lot of a roadhouse just after dusk and Sam looks at the marquee shaking his head in disbelief.

“Are you serious? Dean, it's late, I’m exhausted and..and.. and starving. And this place. I mean, even Swayze wouldn't come to this roadhouse.” Sam groused.

“First of all, never use Swayze’s name in vain, okay. Ever.” Dean chastises his brother for such a sacrilege, “Second, you don't remember this place? You don't remember Heather, the hunter we worked the wendigo case a couple years ago?”

“Oh, yeah,” Sam partially smiles, remembering that night of fun.

“Yeah, exactly” Dean taking the same trip down memory lane.

“What, she’s here tonight?” Sam asks, perking up a bit.

“I texted her, she's working a rugaru case in Texas.” Dean says.

“Actually, she never texted me back. That's not the point, the point is that we have a ton of driving left to do just to go to a town where it's not probably a case.” Dean points ahead, “But in there, good times.”

“Uh...” Sam hedges looking at the building.

“But time heals all wounds, especially good times. What do ya say?” Dean looks at his brother hopeful.

“I say... knock yourself out.” Sam answers with his usual reply and Dean looks away, “I'm gonna find a diner and dig into the lore like Cas did, see if anythings ever happened where we’re headed.”

“Ah man, you really got to learn to have fun.” Dean’s reply was full of disappointment in his little brother.

“Seriously. It’s pathetic.”

They both climb out of the Impala. Sam grabs his bag from the backseat and starts walking back towards town as Dean heads into the roadhouse.

***

Sam had walked over a mile looking for somewhere to eat. Being Saturday night he thought there’d be more open but that’s small town living, the streets roll up at noon on the weekends.

He was about to give up and hike back to that mom & pop gas station he passed for a microwave burrito, preferably bean to get back at Dean, when he happened upon a small, local place, Mak’s Diner.

Hitching his bag up, he pushed open the door expecting the usual greasy spoon Dean's unerring sense navigates towards and stops just inside the front door.

It was an older establishment, obviously one of those passed down from generation to generation places but to his surprise it was well maintained, despite the C on the marquee being burnt out.

“Evening, have a seat anywhere and I’ll be right with you.” A woman’s voice called out from the kitchen. Sam walked past the counter smiling at only other occupants, an elderly couple having coffee and dessert, heading towards the back where family seating was located.

As he passed the next to last booth he noticed a closed laptop, several open books with notes scrawled around their margins, highlighted paragraphs and a few notebooks scattered on its tabletop.

He dropped the bag on the seat and shed his jacket before sliding into the booth, fishing out his laptop and the legal pad that he had started making more notes on earlier.

“Hey there, what can I get you?”

Picking up the menu laying by his elbow Sam glances through it, “Coffee and the Cobb salad, thanks.” He orders closing the menu and looking up to hand it to the waitress. She is differently not what he would have expected to find in a backwater burg like this one.

Her makeup is understated, nails painted a neutral color and her copper hued hair is pulled back in an elegant chiffon, not a high ponytail or hastily bobby pinned up-do, held in place with a real silver clip, the type that’s handed down as an heirloom.

“Just the Cobb salad?” She asked looking under the tabletop, taking in Sam’s long legs somewhat stretched out under it, boots bumping against the other side of the circular booth. Her blue/grey eyes slowly travel up appraising his body till they meet his.

“Big boys like you need more than a few leafy greens for stamina.”

Sam felt himself blushing like he was seventeen again. Waitresses blatantly flirt with Dean and vice versa all the time so he’s taken aback by this woman's more than blatant appraisal of his physique.

“I, um, yeah, ju..just the salad.” Sam stammers out.

“Okay, be back with that coffee.” Her smiles genuinely, not that faked for the customers sake one he’s used to.

Sam appraises her retreating figure like she did him. She’s not wearing the nurses white or black rubber soled shoes that’s usual waitress gear he’s seen but a brand of tennis shoes he knows are out of the typical income of career restaurant staff.

The fifties style, yellow uniforms color is completely unflattering, not fitting her right, way too tight around her bust and hips and far shorter than it should be, her mile long legs on display.

Sam shifts in his seat and tries to discreetly palm down his spontaneous erection but not so little Sam is putting up a fight, making it known it's been way too long since he’s gotten wet and he wants to enjoy her junoesque attributes.

***

While he is waiting for a page to load Sam hears the elderly couple preparing to leave. He watches as the husband helps his wife into her jacket and gently takes her hand, resting it in the crook of his arm as they slowly make their way to the exit, feeling the pang of loneliness that’s his constant companion.

“Mr. Reynolds’s, hang on a sec,” the waitress calls from the kitchen emerging with a white cake box tied shut, “Auntie wanted me to make sure you got this before leaving. She’s sorry she missed your anniversary party.”

“You tell her we missed her, needs to hurry up and get well.” Mrs. Reynolds remarked as her husband took the box with his free hand. She glanced back towards Sam, “Sweetie, you gonna be okay here with the likes of him?”

Sam kept his expression neutral, waiting to see how this plays out. He knew people found him intimidating because of his size and being a stranger in a small town, he definitely stands out but not many were that blatant about it.

“He ordered a Cobb salad, I think I can handle him,” she jested winking at him.

The couple bid her goodnight and she went back into the kitchen, Sam realizing they were now all alone. Sighing, he starts reading the info again trying to figure out what exactly their hunting is. Or not.

He was so focused on his research like usual he didn’t acknowledge the waitress standing there with his order.

“Kmm hmm,” Sam’s head snapped up, “must be something really good if you don’t notice the likes of me.” She chided him setting down a coffee decanter and cup.

“Sorry, guess I was kinda caught up.” Sam moves the laptop and notepad over as she sets down his salad and two types of dressing. “Figured you might not be a ranch type of guy so I grabbed the vinaigrette too.”

“Thanks, I prefer vinaigrette, don’t usually get offered it.”

“I’m pretty good at reading people which is why I also brought you this,” she set down another plate with a lettuce wrapped, curiously colored and, by the smell, not meat burger with all the fixings, a generous helping of baked sweet potato fries and a green colored milkshake.

“I didn’t order this.”

“I know but it cooks night off and I’m trying some new recipes. Seeing as you're the only other one here, you've been conscripted as my guinea pig.” She slid into the other side of his booth where an identical plate rested, “I wasn’t kidding about you needing more than just a salad. Besides, I hate eating alone, you wouldn’t believe how often it happens. Fuck, where’s my manners, I’m Piper.” She stuck her hand out across the table.

He takes her preferred hand amazed how it fits perfectly in his, “Sam.”

“So Sam, figure out what you're hunting yet?” She asked nonchalantly as she picked up her burger, “Cause, not being judgey, but that’s some really random shit you got there.” She takes a bite, watches as his expression bounces between startled and incredulous.

“How…”

“Saw your Tarsus 99 when you took off your jacket. I had one as a kid, then daddy got killed on a hunt and I got sent here to live with Auntie, she doesn’t cotton to hunting.”

Piper picked up a fry pointing it at him, “But what I really wanna know, where the hell did you get that demon blade, ‘cause I’ve never seen one like it before.”

Sam hesitates, “That’s a long story.”

“Don’t close till one and I’ve got nowhere to be after.”

Sam decides to deflect instead of answering. “So what is it you do, because you're definitely not a waitress.”

“Officially, I’m an antique appraiser. Unofficially, I’m helping a wayward hunter who graced my door with something he can’t figure out.”

***

Sam and Piper, after closing the diner, stayed another three hours hashing out the research for his case were now taking their time walking back towards the roadhouse.

“I’ve been wanting to ask, what’s with that name tag?” Sam noticed early it read Maggie.

“Came with this god awful uniform. Auntie insists that we all adhere to how her daddy ran the place. So when I came back to temporarily help out after her surgery, Maggie decided she was not gonna take orders from someone younger, quit and I got stuck with this. I told Auntie it wouldn’t fit, even with letting out the hem. Maggie was like five-four and I’m over five-ten!

Ugh! I keep popping these stupid top buttons and can’t freaking bend over without showing everyone my C U Next Tuesday.”

Sam smiled that nervous smile he got when unsure how to respond to an answer he wasn’t expecting.

“I normally wear this to cover it,” moving her pocketed hands in the light weight, knee length sweater she had put on when they left the diner, “but I have to confess,” Piper turned around, walking backwards, “I took it off when I saw you come in, thought what the hell, been long time since a really cute guy has walk through my door so...” She bit her lip, turning back around as they continued down the lane in companionable silence.

Sam mused over her confession admitting to himself he was interested in her too. He enjoyed sharing different theories and bouncing ideas of what they might be hunting back and forth with her, surprising him with her unique take on things.

Piper might not have been the type he consciously steered towards since Jess but she was comfortable to be around, didn’t feel his usual awkwardness he normally had around most women.

They arrived at the roadhouse a few minutes later and Sam led her towards the Impala.

“Damn, you brother is a fucking artist, how many times has he rebuilt her?” Piper asked walking around the car, running her hand over the Impalas pristine exterior.

“To many.” Sam replies, putting his bag on the front seat. “Can I have a look?” He turns to see Piper standing by the trunk. “Um, sure.” Strolling over he unlocks it and lifts the interior wheel well exposing the car's hidden armory.

“Is that a grenade launcher?”

“Yeah, Dean found it at the bunker.” Sam laughed remembering how excited Dean had been when he discovered it.

Piper shook her head shutting the trunk and hopped up on it, “What’cha wanna do now, go in,” gesturing at the bar, “or hang out here for a while longer?”

“I think I’m good hanging o...”

Piper grabbed his jacket dragging him between her spread legs and kissed him.

It took Sam all of five seconds to process what was happening before his hands grabbed her hips and tugged her to the edge of the trunk, her short skirt riding even higher as she wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer.

Sam jerked back as headlights flashing over them, a patrol car drove into the parking lot. He lifted Piper off the trunk and led her to the car's back door dragging the green cooler out of their way.

Piper climbed in as he hauled it to the trunk and grabs the army blanket Dean keeps then gets in depositing it and his jacket over the front seat.

“Where were we before being rudely interrupted?” Piper asked, sliding onto Sam’s lap and leaning in to resume kissing him.

Sam tangled his long fingers into her now loose hair pulling to halt her, “What about that patrolman?”

“Won’t be back till closing, around six A.M.”

“That means Dean won’t either,” he says closing the space between them, heatedly attacking her lips.

***

Piper ran her hand over his bare chest, “How long is your refractory period?”

Sam shifted to look down at her, “umm, around twenty minutes.”

“Hmmm, I’m gonna have to see what I can do to shorten that ‘cause we are so doing that more than once again.”

“And how are you gonna do that?”

Piper stared at him slowly trailing her hand down his torso. Sam’s breath hitched as she lightly teased her fingers across his lower stomach, running through his treasure trail and over to his hip.

Shifting further down his body she continued running her fingers over the top of his left thigh feeling the hard muscles flexing under the skin. She placed both of her hands in between his legs shifting his left one off the seat and bending his right leg back placing his foot flat on the bench seat.

Piper kneels in the space between Sam’s spread legs continuously moving her fingers in random patterns over the insides of both tights, touching him everywhere below his waist.

Sam closed his eyes groaning loudly, dropping his head back against the window as her fingers played over his balls feeling her other hand travel behind them teasing over his...

“You fell asleep in the fucking car!”

His eyes snapped open startled. Blinking rapidly he sees Dean leaning through the open car window looking at him.

“Dean what...where’s Piper?”

“What’s a Piper?” He growled out, “Dude, we wrapped twenty minutes ago and I’ve been looking for you, got worried cause you weren’t answering your fucking phone Jay!”

He took a good look at Dean. His foggy brain finally realizing its mistake, taking in the headset hanging around his neck and the ball cap he likes wearing when directing. “Jen, sorry, guess I’m still in Sam headspace, got disoriented for a sec.”

Jensen laughed, “You find one grey hair and suddenly you're getting memory loss and needing naps? I’ll have to remember to have you in bed by nine, old man.”

“Your fucking hilarious Jack.” Jared shoots back sliding across the seat getting out, “Man, I had the weirdest dream.”

“From the happy noises you were making that was far from weird. And speaking of happy,” Jensen's eyebrows went up as he pointedly looked down.

Jared glances down thinking he’s drooled all over himself only to see the prominent bulge in his jeans.

“Bob’s called a meeting in five but I think we’re gonna be late.”

***

“I’m telling you it was so real! She was tall with coppery blond hair, tasted like chocolate peppermint and has this tattoo above her...” Jared paused grinning, keeping that specific location to himself, “I’ve never in my life had such a vivid dream like that.”

“Dude, you like petite brunettes.”

“I know..so why would I make her a redhead?”

“Hell if I know, it’s your giant melon. Maybe all that sugar ribbon you eat is finally getting its revenge.” Jensen snarks as they enter the meeting room.

They were greeted by Bob’s gruff voice, “About time you two showed up. Alright, now that everyone is finally here, we need to get everyone up to speed. We’re having to make changes to the filming schedule.” He pauses looking at him notes, “Jared, don’t need you to come tomorrow for those new promo shots with, what was that new character again?”

“Y/N Y/L/N, Sam’s new love interest.”

“Right, anyways, writers scraped that idea. As some of you heard, several of our exterior locations got flooded with that last storm and it’s taking time to find new locations so instead of doing blocking we're gonna do a quick read through of the new episode.”

Jared opened his copy of the new script to episode 4: Baby.

Reading the opening scene he experiences deja vu, quickly scanning the first two pages: bunkers garage: Dean washing the Impala, Sam having a possible case in Oregon. Next scene: interior shot Impala, Sam gets a protein shake out of cooler, Dean wants to know about the beer. Next scene: pulling in roadhouse parking lot, Dean trying to get Sam to join him, goes to eat instead, shot from Impala view watching Dean walking. Next scene: daybreak continuing from the view of the car...

“Fuck me.” Jared whispers, catching Jensen's attention. “What’s wrong?”

“This is how my dream started.”

Jensen pulls a yeah right face.

Jared shifted in his chair leaning closer to Jensen, looking directly into his green eyes, “I’ll prove it. Next scene: Dean gets in the car at daybreak and a naked waitress pops up in the backseat with a voice-over from Sam. Dean gets out peeping in the driver's side back window at her getting dressed. Cut to next scene: Sam climbs into front seat buttoning his flannel as he apologizes for having sex in Dean’s car. Dean, happy his brother finally got laid drives off quoting Bob Sager lyrics, playing Night Moves and Sam changing a lyric.

Jared continued to lay out the entire episode from memory as Jensen flips through the script following.

“Bullshit Jared, someone snuck you a copy of this script, you're totally fucking with me.”

“Jensen, not this time.”

***

Jared walked back to his trailer aggravated that Jensen won’t believe he didn’t get an advance peek of the script. He can’t shake this unsettling feeling that he was forgetting something important.

He was two steps into his trailer when his phone vibrated. Chad left a voicemail instead of texting, weird.

“Jay man, you gotta do me solid. A friend of mine got the part of Y/N on your show and I don’t know what the fucks happening up there but she flipped the fuck out on me! Need you to check on her, she’s outside one of the guest trailers. And have her call me back after she’s calmed the fuck down!”

Jared snorted, another woman pissed off at Chad, shocker. “The fuck you getting me into this time Murray.” Jared mutters to himself as he heads over to the guest stars trailers and hears a somewhat familiar voice outside of one.

“What do you mean there’s nothing you can do? I get here and now they're telling me they’ve dropped the story line.”

There was a pause in conversation as Jared walked closer to hear more clearly over the lot's noises and was shocked when he saw her sitting on one of the trailer's steps.

“But I signed a contract...what? I don’t remember seeing that in there. So they can just arbitrarily drop the part with no notification, that’s bullshit! I’ve never had a clause like that in one before. I gave up my job and apartment for this!” She gets up and paces around not noticing him.

“They're giving me the bit part of the waitress in this episode, have a five am call for hair, getting a blonde rinse so I look more like a Dean type girl. I don’t know what the fuck is with these writers, it’s like they don’t get Sam, should’ve left him like Kripke originally created him.” She paused, “paying me what? At scale! That’ll just cover my petrol for the drive back to L.A. Wait, what about my six month lease? Could you check on it.”

“Oh, giving me two nights at the Hilton. How magnanimous of them,” she sarcastically replies, “can I still get that part on Arrow...cast someone else.” She abruptly ends the call and sits back down on the step slumping over her knees.

“So, how much of that fucked up conversation did you overhear?” She asked not looking at him.

“Um, almost all of it.” Jared confesses, “I wasn’t intentionally eavesdropping but I got a voicemail from Chad,” she looked up staring in disbelief at Jared, “he’s worried and wanted me to check on you.”

“Fanfuckingtastic, can this day get any better? I’ve completely humiliated myself in front of Jared Fucking Padalecki!”

Jared can just make out her blushing in the still dimming light. “I wouldn’t say completely, I mean, you could drop your pants and yell Pudding.”

She blinked at him before doubling over in laughter, “Alright, point taken. Still, it’s a crock of shit you don’t need to be bothered with.”

“Chad’s kinda made it my problem. Look, I don't know all the details but maybe I can help, I can call casting..”

“Oh hell no! Thanks but no thanks. Bunch of assbutts on social media were already speculating about how someone like me got the part in the first place. Last thing I need is more ammo for the haters, they’ll tweet something like I had a three way with you and Ackles because I was desperate to get the part back.”

Jared cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair embarrassed to feel turned on by the imagery she conjured up in his mind.

“Mmm, that’d be my wet dream come true, but not the point, they’ll just come up with some random shit.”

Jared understood being all too familiar with the anti whatever’s having been the target himself.

“Okay, how about we go to my trailer,” she gave him a skeptical look, “where you can have some privacy to call Chad back. I’ll get de-Sam’d and we can talk some more or grab a bite if you're hungry.”

“You don’t know me from Adam, what if I’m some psychotic serial stocker nut job?”

“If your friends with Chad, you absofuckingloutley are Ms. what's your name.” Jared sarcastically remarks given her a mischievous grin.

“Touché, and it's Piper,” Jared froze at her name, “and you’ve been friends with Murry longer than me so I know you’re straight up batshit crazy.” She smarts back standing up, “lead on, oh gallant knight.”

***

Jared walked out of the bath toweling his wet hair sees Piper lounging on his couch still on the phone with Chad.

As he crossed over to the kitchen's fridge he couldn’t help but notice her low rise jeans had ridden lower, revealing the top half of the tattoo just above her..

“Dude, should’a told me Padalecki has a tattoo kink,” Jared tripped over his feet before catching himself embarrassed at getting caught, “Yeah, that was your boy.” She winked at him, “No way in hell I’m ever showing it to you perv.” Jared loudly laughs at that. “Hey, when I get back I’m PA’ing for you till I get another gig. Don’t you dare argue, you got me into this so it’s that or I’m on your couch for a month,” Piper rolled her eyes at Chad’s response, “Yeah, yeah, talk to you later.”

“Is that how you met Chad, working as a PA?” Jared inquired coming over to sit down next to Piper handing her a beer.

“Yeah, paid the bills while doing auditions, was starting to pick up a few bit parts around LA.” Piper starts nervously fiddling with the bottles label, “I heard about the casting call for a new Sam girl and Murry talked me into trying out for it, so I figured unless I kiss Crowley I don’t have a shot in hell and holy fuck, I got it.”

She stopped talking but kept playing with the label.

“Hey, whatever it is you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Jared says gently touching her shoulder in a reassuring manner.

She took a long pull of her beer before continuing. “My Auntie died and I inherited everything, including her debts. I negotiated a smaller settlement but it wiped out all my savings.” She paused draining the rest of her bottle. “I figured it was serendipity..”

Jared is half listening, feeling that uneasy sensation again at that last word.

“...gonna be Sam Winchester’s...”

“If we’re meant to meet again,”

“.. weren’t killing her off after three episodes but then they decided to drop that story line...”

“we will.”

“...I should be going. Thanks for the beer and letting bending your ear, I’m gonna get out of your hair.” Piper gets up heading for the door.

Jared finally remembers.

“I believe in serendipity..maybe you can too.”

He quickly jumped up moving between her and the door blurting out, “I know you said you didn’t want my help but you can’t go, not yet.”

“Okay, why not? ‘Cause any other time I’d be up for some wham bam thank you ma’am but so not in the mood right now.”

Taking a deep breath he goes for it, “So, get this, after we finished filming today, I fell asleep in the Impala and had this dream…”

***

Jared sat on the couch nervously chewing on his thumb watching as Piper paces back and forth mulling over his story.

She abruptly stopped and sat down on the table in front of him. “So here's the deal, I will believe everything you've told me,” Jared opens his mouth to say something but Piper reached out laying her fingers on his lips, “if you can answer one question.”

Jared took her hand remembering how it felt so right in his, “Okay.”

“Since you’ve seen it in your dream, what does my tattoo mean?”

“In Japanese, it means happy coincidence,” Jared confidently says sitting back as Piper climbs onto his lap, “but that's the first line, the second one is chance discovery.”

Jared pulls her in, brushing his lips against hers, running his tongue across them so she’ll part them , allowing him access. He can taste the beer they’ve been drinking but there’s that sumptuous flavor of her underneath he finds intoxicating..chocolate peppermint..thinking to himself..

Serendipity.

#plaid and the memories #Baby #sam winchester x piper #jared padalecki x piper #SPN Supernatural #sam winchester fanfiction #Sam Winchester #dean winchester #Jensen Ackles

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eatgraypes · 6 years ago

Text

Not a Couple

Character/Person: Alexander Hamilton

Pairing: Alexander Hamilton x Reader

Time: Modern

Reader’s Gender: Female

Warnings: Language, all of the hamilsquad minus hamilton love u like older brothers, light bdsm mention, hercules’ girlfriend “elizabeth” was the name of his wife way back then

Rating: M

Request: Could I request either #3 or #4 (maybe both lol) for Alex/Lin, whichever you prefer!

#3: “You’re so fucking full of yourself.” “Soon you’ll be too.”

Word Count: 4224

Summary: Hercules goes on his first date with his girlfriend and in an attempt to make things less awkward, invites Alex and you to the fair and as per usual, Alex is being cocky and you love hate it.

Hercules Mulligan wasn’t known for dating. His “rough and tough” demeanor scared away any potential suitors before they got to know the gentle, caring him and how hilariously good he was at tailoring clothes.

Before, he’s had about one or two girlfriends a year. Both lasting for only a few months before they decided they’d want a man who was more... Outgoing? Adventurous? You, personally, couldn’t see any reason for them to leave him.

You love Hercules Mulligan more than anything. He plays such a big role in your life and can have his big brother moments, and if given heavy amounts of liquor- will be that funny, drunk uncle you vividly don’t remember inviting, and can even act like a protective dad.

But at this moment. This very second.

With his eyes drooped and his hands fumbling and twisting as his fingers danced with each other yearningly, you adored him like a little brother.

You smile softly as he continues to spew nonsense about a woman he had apparently met a few weeks back.

“Hear me out, Y/N.”

You grin, bringing your steaming beverage up to your lips and sipping, “I’m listening.”

“She might actually be the love of my life.”

Your eyebrows furrow together slightly, wrinkling the skin sitting between them as you look around nervously, trying to find the right words. “That’s..”

Hercules presses a hand into the cold air and chuckles, “I know. I’ve said it before about my past girlfriends.”

“Yeah,” you awkwardly chortle.

“But I mean it.”

“Mm? How so?”

“She doesn’t have to put up this act or try to understand me or my humor. She’s just..” His hand dips into a circular motion, trying to piece together his thoughts. “Perfect.”

You widen your smile at your gushing friend.

“Y’know, I’m glad you really like her.” You pause, “I just hope she doesn’t turn out to be an asshole.”

He laughs through his nose and looks up at you for a beat before picking his coffee up from the table and holding it up, just above the height of your head. You raise an eyebrow and offer Hercules an amused expression; only to give in when he tuts his head so you, in turn, hesitantly raise your cup too.

“Here’s to hoping she won’t be an asshole.” He laughs.

“Hear, hear!”

After taking a hefty swig of your drink, you place it back down onto the glass table without releasing your hold, it’s hot air radiating and blossoming around your cold fingers. You shiver at the thought of going back outside and glance out at the rain, suddenly thankful that Hercules chose the table right next to the giant glass window as you hear the soft thudding of the rain and the fast, low hum of cars and people passing. You resist the urge to lay your head down and fall asleep to the soothing sound, instead choosing to (almost forcefully) look at the man seated right in front of you.

His fingers toy with each other, just as they did when he was talking about his new girlfriend a few moments ago, but this time- nervously.

He feels your gaze on him and proves his gut feeling correct when he quickly glances up to see you staring in curiosity. You part your lips to speak but he beats you to it.

“So, we’re gonna go on our first date this weekend.”

You open your mouth again, but this time in confusion. “Wait.” You sputter. “You guys haven’t gone on a date yet?”

Hercules can feel his face flush. His eyes dart off to the side stubbornly, “shut up. We want to move slow.”

You laugh and pat his hands gently, “aw I think it’s sweet!”

“Would you still think it’s sweet if you went with me?”

You pull your hands back from his, confused. “What?”

You watch as Hercules immediately jumps into excuse mode. Flustered and a mess, he tries to come up with some sort of excuse that justifies whatever just came out of his mouth.

“It’s just- it’s gonna be our first date and she’s so perfect I don’t wanna mess it up and oh my-” His string of mixed up words soon tumbles into random words and before his sentences can get even worse, you jump in.

“Okay, calm down.” You breathe in and out slowly, watching Hercules do the same in response, “it’s just weird if I’m just third wheeling.”

Hercules shakes his head so fast, you’re afraid his head would’ve flown off and crashed into the window and onto the rainy streets.

“No, no. I’ll invite someone else. Probably Laf or John.”

You let the idea sit for a while. What could go wrong? You’d be hanging out with your friends and helping Hercules compose himself in front of, what he described as “the love of his life.”

Didn’t sound that bad.

“So where are we going?”

You can’t help but let a giggle slip at the sight of Hercules. His eyes comically large and his grin big as he continuously thanks you and promises future gifts.

Only a few days had passed since the meetup and as excited as you were to hang out with your friends and subtly cheer Hercules on from the sidelines, a part of you just wanted to stay home, sink into your soft mattress and bundle yourself into your comforter. God, did that thought just make you wanna slip your shoes off and run home full-speed.

“You’re meeting Herc here?” You jump at the voice, getting pulled from your “bedroom thoughts” and now facing your friend, John, who looked at you expectantly.

“Yeah,” you sigh, “are you sure you can’t join us?”

John thins his lips before smiling at you, “yeah. I gotta watch my little sister, remember?”

You groan and slouch against your seat. Maybe if you didn’t move, John would be forced to drive back home or accompany you.

“Don’t make me kick you out of this car, Y/N.” He says sternly, voice hinting a bit of playfulness.

Okay, maybe not.

You pout, “pick me up at 11?”

“Pick you up at 11.”

John moves forward to kiss you on your forehead and you accept it, humming contentedly. “Okay, love you.”

“Love you!” John calls out as you slam the car door shut, barely able to make out the kiss he blew into the air through the heavily tinted windows.

After watching John leave, you slide your tiny backpack off your shoulders and move your fingers over the cold metal zipper, moving your chapstick and emergency pads aside to grab your phone so you could ring up Hercules and find out where you guys were meeting. You scarcely remember him saying something about the Ferris Wheel, so you take your chances and squeeze your way through the crowd of people to get to the center of the fair, where the wheel stood in all its glory.

But holy shit if that corn dog booth to your right didn’t smell amazing.

Deciding it wouldn’t hurt if you were a little late, you mutter soft apologies to the people standing idly so you could successfully get one of your hands on those little meat sticks that fucked with your senses oh-so wonderfully.

“Y/N?” A voice rings through the air, barely noticeable as it was nearly swept away with the other conversations around you.

You turn to see the owner of the voice and- oh!

“Hercules,” you smile and your eyes almost immediately shift over to the girl awkwardly clung to his hand. Undoubtedly, this was the girl with the perfect eyes and smile that he just couldn’t stop talking about.

You jut your hand into the air for a handshake, “hey, I’m Y/N. I’m basically his mom.” You wink, trying to ease her nerves.

She hesitates a moment, before letting out a soft laugh and taking your hand into hers. “Elizabeth,” she shyly murmurs.

You tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear and move your gaze from Elizabeth to Hercules, “where’s Laf?”

He freezes, “about that…”

You tilt your head in confusion, “what do you mean ab-”

An arm slings around your shoulders and pulls you in close. The soft flesh of your face hitting the hard fabric of someone’s shirt. You press a hand against their chest and look up, eyes meeting brown ones accompanied with brown waves and a goatee.

You narrow your eyes slowly as the man’s mouth stretches into a shit-eating grin. “Oh, no, no, no.” You curse.

“God, did I miss seeing your face.” Alex mocks, taking a big bite out of the corndog he held in his free hand.

You force yourself to breathe in and out, slowly, to compose yourself and not embarrass Hercules in front of this new girl. But what the fuck were you supposed to do when Alexander fucking Hamilton has you smugly pressed against him. Just go with it?

“You surprised me, babe!” The words come out so harshly, you swear Hamilton had to take a step back in shock. Which he did.

Only for a second was he taken aback, only for a second, before his grin widens into a smirk and he leans in for a kiss.

You blink. Once. Then twice. You weigh in your options, one being you press the flat of your palm against your lips and just let him win; or you go in for the kiss and look at the dumbfounded expression on his stupid face.

Alright, Hamilton. Game’s on.

You let one hand slide over his cheek and rest against his jaw while the other arm hooks over the back of his neck to pull him closer so your cherry-tinted lips are in reach of his painfully boring pink ones. You let your eyes flutter close, a knowing smirk coming over your face as you can feel his mouth open to form the shape of an ‘O.’ His grip loosens on your shoulders and he moves away from you. You don’t even think about giving him the chance to question you or say some snide comment before you retract your hands and bring them together in a clap, momentarily moving to stand on your toes as you look at your friend who had stared back at you as if you had grown a second head.

“So, where to first?”

You hide a smile into the center of your palm as Hercules hands over the overly large teddy bear to Elizabeth. You watch as both of their hot breaths mingle and swirl in the cold air when they laugh, clearly fond of each other.

“You want one?” Alex asks, appearing at your side with a drink.

Your eyebrows furrow at him, “you know you have to win these, right? You can’t just buy them.”

“No shit.” He says matter of factly, already taking out his wallet. “Do I look stupid?”

Your mouth twitches upward.

“Don’t answer that.” He quickly adds.

You throw your hands up in defense, claiming that you weren’t planning to anyways.

After paying for five rings, he hands you his drink, leans forward on his elbows, and takes aim.

And misses.

You remove the lid of Alex’s drink and take a sip. You laugh into the cup of what you found out to be a vanilla milkshake when Alex’s ring bounces off of 4 coke bottles before slipping into the space between each, completely missing the shot. He does it 4 more times before finally landing one of the small, worn out rings on one of the thin coke bottles near the center.

You can’t help but giggle when he excitedly hands you the tiny prize: a miniature teddy bear with its hands bound with red ribbon. Alex leans in, lips brushing against the rose of your cheek, his childlike wonder suddenly gone.

“That’s gonna be you later tonight. Tied up, tiny, and vulnerable.”

Your breath hitches when he pulls back and searches your face for your reaction, not displeased with the results. His ego only inflates when he takes his milkshake back, only to find the stain your red lips made. “Well, isn’t that hot.” He jokes.

You roll your eyes and hand him the bear back, “I’m gonna go talk to Hercules. I’ll be right back.” You mutter, both dazed and determined to get him back.

Alex laughs to himself as he watches you saunter away, his own fingers subconsciously toying with the stuffed animal you returned to him. The look on your face playing on repeat in his head was enticing.

“Two and a half years.”

Alex takes a moment to look at the young girl who ran the coke bottle/ring booth. She freezes underneath his gaze and slaps a pale hand over her mouth, alarmed.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to say it aloud.”

Alex cocks his head.

She continues as if she owed him the explanation, “me and my brother like to play this game where we, uh, guess how long couples have been together. He said 4 months and I said... Uh, you know what I said.”

Alex chuckles after processing the woman’s apology, glancing down at the bear surrounded by ribbon he fumbled with. “Well. We’re not a couple.”

You had spent most of the night walking around a few feet behind Hercules and his new girlfriend, who had been carrying a bunch of gifts Hercules had won for her, and drowning out Alex and whatever he seemed to be ranting about. Something about overpriced fair food and drinks. It didn’t matter to you anyways. You were too busy thinking over ideas on how to get him back for that teddy bear incident that left you a little indifferent.

“Are you even listening?” Alex suddenly asks, pausing mid rant, face all red from talking non-stop.

“Did you really expect me to?” You raise a brow, hands still playing with the small red ribbon bear.

He ignores your remark to stare at your fingers toying with the object; staring at how delicate your fingers seemed against the soft fabric and how your fingers would slow when skimming over the scarlet ribbon, almost as if you were testing the silkness of it. Almost as if you wanted to know what it was like to be in that position, all tied up. He let his eyes drift from your hands to your unamused eyes, before grinning down at you.

“I mean, I bet you’d listen if I tied you up and blindfolded you.”

Your face flushes. You can practically feel your entire body just light up with excitement at the idea of your sight being temporarily confined while Alex did whatever he pleased.

“In your dreams, Hamilton.” Is all you can muster up, shoulders high in hopes that it’ll somewhat cover the red glow that conquered the regular hue of your skin.

“Oh, God, I hope so.”

You turn to glare at him as he smirks boyishly in response.

This had just been the beginning of the constant flirting Alex was laying down on you. And you just had to go with it, hoping Elizabeth wouldn’t sense the tension in the air and turn around to see you both glaring at each other with such hostility that she’d call it a night and dip. The last thing you wanted to do was ruin Hercules’ date with such a nice girl.

“You know, maybe you should really watch your mouth.” You lower your voice, leaning in closer so the cheery couple wouldn’t hear.

What you didn’t expect was the strong scent of pine and freshly printed books. You inhaled softly and subtly leaned in closer, hoping he wouldn’t notice. He didn’t.

“Maybe you should make me.” He dared.

You were getting more and more frustrated by the second. Sexually or normally? You didn’t know.

“God, you’re so fucking full of yourself.”

His grin widens manically, “soon you’ll be too.”

That catches you off guard. You knit your eyebrows together and open your mouth to snap back at him, “you cocky little-”

“We’re gonna go on that ride, you guys joining?” Hercules suddenly inquires, he and Elizabeth both facing you with pondering expressions. Except Elizabeth’s held more confusion, probably wondering why your hand was inching towards Alex’s face as if you were gonna slap him. You, too, were confused until you remembered that you had to play the role as ‘girlfriend.’

Alex returns his gaze from Hercules to you, “you joining, babe?”

Too stubborn to admit defeat and just tell Hercules’ date that you and Alex weren’t dating and just pretending so that it wouldn’t be awkward, you slip your hand into his pocket and fished around for his wallet before plucking it out, taking note of the way his thigh shifted at your touch and the way his jaw fell slack. His once smug expression seemed to be replaced with shock instead. You bit down on your tongue to keep from grinning in victory and instead pulled out the ride tickets before shutting the wallet and handing it back to Alex. His face remained in that same bewildered look while he followed you aimlessly to the ride, in tow with Hercules’ and Elizabeth. Huh. This is the most quiet he’s ever been.

After handing over the small green tickets over to the old man behind the operating booth, he did a once-over at the two of you before his thoughts came to a conclusion. He smiled warmly and tossed the tickets into the trash after scanning them for entry, “you two are so cute. Married?” Now it was your turn to be shocked.

Alex laughed it off while you reassured the man while violently shaking your head ‘no,’ prompting him to part his lips and squint in confusion. It took you a few seconds to realize he was staring at Alex’s tanned hand resting right on your hip bone. You pushed it off and fumbled awkwardly.

“We’re not even dating, sir.” Alex responds for you.

“Drop the niceties, it’s obvious.” He laughed, not even giving you a chance to respond before he ushered you two into the open gate so he didn’t hold up the line. “Have a good night.”

“Everyone thinks we’re a couple.” Alex comments, walking over to an empty seat and buckling himself in.

You roll your head on your neck to glance over at him with a completely deadpan expression. “Didn’t realize I was making it really obvious I’m in love with you.” You sneer.

He ignores that.

“Maybe we could prove them right. Just for a night, at least.”

You groan in disgust and disappointment. How could Hercules, one of your best friends and the sweetest guys you know, call Hamilton his friend?

“Is that really all you think about?” You narrow your eyes, not noticing the weird looks the worker who came by to check everyone’s seatbelts gave you. “Sex?” You continued.

The worker, sensing that this wasn’t really their business, scurried off to the far end of the gated area, to give their co-worker a thumbs-up and suddenly, you could feel your feet being lifted off the ground. Alex’s voice was enough for you to remove your eyes from the continuously shrinking ground to his face.

“Only when I’m with you.”

To say that ride was long would be an understatement. It felt like hours and hours of just sitting there, thigh-to-thigh with Alexander Hamilton while your head would accidentally fall against his shoulder because of the strong wind and you’d have to shout a loud apology or just pretend it didn’t happen. But what feels like hours to some people, feels like seconds to others.

“That was so fun, we should go again.” Elizabeth suggests, a little less shyly than she used to speak just a few minutes ago. Guess carnival rides really do bring out the fun part of you.

“Yeah, we can go,” Hercules beams down at her, considering she was relatively tiny compared to him. He looked like a giant. “Y/N?”

“Uh, I’m good.” You say, not even sparing a glance behind you to peer at your ‘lover.’

“We can watch your stuff though.” Alex offers.

Hercules smiles appreciatively and threw you a look that screamed very specifically, “see he’s not too bad.” And you immediately shot him one back that also screamed “bite me.”

“Thank you, Alex.” Hercules says, enunciating literally every syllable. “Then, after this we can go to the Ferris Wheel and get some more food. I’ll pay.”

Just like the old man dressed in wintery blue behind the operating booth, Hercules had already left before letting you respond to him, giving you no choice but to sit there alone with Alex and watch their stuff.

Then again, this could be an easy 5 minutes. Just sit there and go on your phone and text John and ask him how babysitting his sister was going. The last time you asked, he didn’t respond till another week because his sister had launched his phone out of the window and it landed onto the road right before a car had drove over it. Talk about bad luck.

“So, now that we’re alone..”

Speaking of bad luck.

“Hamilton,” you warn, still not looking at him and choosing to instead stare at your text messages with John from this morning.

“What’s up with you and my last name? That some kink you have or something?”

Your eyes gleam with a hint of mischief as you find an opportunity to catch him off guard. And you take that shit.

“Well, Hamilton, would you rather me scream that or Alex when you have me all alone in that Ferris Wheel cart?” You can’t help but let a little smile creep onto your face, no matter how hard you tried to fight it off.

You’re not disappointed with his reaction. His eyes widening like saucers and his foot springing an inch off of its spot on the ground at the thought of pressing your bare back against the small, cool metal of the cart and plunging into you repeatedly while you both tried to keep quiet and keep the small cart from rocking too much. He let his fantasies derail and he knew it because by the time he returned to reality you were nearly a centimeter from his face, fingers tip-toeing up and down his thigh patiently.

His eyes flashed with something, and for a second you were concerned. Just a second though. You battled his lust with yours and before you knew it, your fingers had reached his belt. Fingernails tapping against the metal of his belt with that clink sound was the only noise that filled your ears besides his heavier than usual breathing and you grinned wider at the idea of making Alexander Hamilton tremble beneath you and beg for release. You were just about to grope him (in public!) when you had remembered that Hercules and Elizabeth were going to return any moment and Alex groaned when you pulled away to fix your hair, just as your face was inching towards his.

Just like John’s tween sister that threw his phone out of a window, you had seemed to timed this perfectly because Hercules had returned hand-in-hand with the cute, small brunette still clung to his side. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Alex checking Elizabeth out and, annoyed, you step on his foot rather hard. As a reminder that she and Hercules were together or just to make you feel better, you didn’t really know.

“Hey, guys.” You stood from your seat and handed over the numerous teddy bears and other stuffed animals to the pair to harshly grab Alex’s hand and tug him so close to your body, you could practically feel his breath fanning over the back of your neck. “Ready to go?” You question, avoiding Hercules’ questioning gaze.

Elizabeth nodded excitedly, and not needing Hercules’ answer, you rush towards the most sought after, popular ride that really ties a night together.

Once you reached the booth, ignoring Alex’s many comments every few seconds such as “so eager, aren’t you?” Or the dirty things he’d wanted to do to you as soon as you stepped inside of that crate.

“So, should we take the same cart or-?” Your question was cut short when Alex had quickly jumped in and said his two cents-

“Separate. Definitely separate.”

You bite back a grin and ignore Hercules’ very confused expression directed towards you.

“Okay, uh,” Hercules presses a hand against the small of Elizabeth’s back, gently pushing her towards the small metal crate reeling to the bottom and slipped inside after handing the booth director the two owed tickets. You had followed quickly after, the next crate was a nice burnt orange. Not the obnoxious neon kind of orange, but a nice smoky orange. If that existed. Of course, color didn’t matter to Alex, as his mind was busy undressing you and fixing you into different kinds of positions he could twist you in. You roll your eyes at him as he winks at you and turn to hand your tickets to the operator that threw you a very suspicious look. To which you only smiled innocently in response, pulling Alex into the cart with you. After you heard the lock click and felt it start to move to load in the next riders, you turn to Alex.

“Ready, Hamilton?”

206 notes · View notes

noreasonjustbored · 6 years ago

Text

Absence Makes the Heart Grow Jealous

Part 3:

This dinner is a disaster thought Henry as he subtlety moved closer to Charlotte for what felt like the two millionth time in the last forty minutes.

They were sitting in a circular booth with all of the Game Shakers. Charlotte was on the end of one side while Henry was to her left and Babe was to his left. Every time he moved to the right to get near Charlotte (and further from Babe) it seemed like she mimicked his actions to be closer to him.

It was getting on his nerves that she was constantly touching him and giggling at things he knew for a fact weren’t funny. However, he didn’t know how to tell her to back off without hurting her feelings. He wasn’t the most tactful when it came to things like this. Also, it wasn’t typical that a girl hit on him when he didn’t reciprocate the sentiment.

And he truly did not return her affections. She was a nice girl but she was a little too naive and too hyper for him. Plus, the most amazing woman he had ever met was already his girlfriend. He needn’t look anywhere else because Charlotte provided everything he never even knew he wanted or needed in a mate.

Charlotte was truly his partner in every way. She was beautiful and smart and talented. She was confident and witty and compassionate. She was a goddess and he was lucky she even wanted to date a peasant like him. He 100 percent knew this to be true.

He also knew that Charlotte was starting to get agitated by Babe’s behavior as well. At first he didn’t really understand what was happening because Charlotte is always composed. But as the long night wore on he started to notice the cracks in her facade.

It started when they first showed up outside the restaurant. Henry was helping Charlotte out of the cab when he heard his name being called in a high pitched tone.

“Henry! Hey!” Babe waves enthusiastically.

She is surrounded by Trip, Hudson and Kenzie who all greet he and Charlotte with smiles and waves as they approach.

“So guys, this food is delicious and I can’t wait until you try it.” Babe says while linking her arm in the crook of Henry’s elbow and pulling him inside. At this action Charlotte raises one eyebrow but says nothing as she follows the group through the door.

When seated the waiter asks for drink orders and Babe proceeds to tell them that she wants a fruit punch and that Henry will take a lemonade because he loves lemonade sooooo much.

“Right Hen?” she asked while batting her eyelashes flirtatiously.

In the corner of his eye he sees Charlotte roll her eyes at the statement. Hen? Who told her she could call him that?

“Right.” Henry coughed out awkwardly before the rest of the table gave their beverage choices as well.

After ordering their food the group chatted amicably while waiting for dinner to arrive. The dinner seemed to be going along fine when it suddenly all took a turn for the worst.

Henry was turned towards Char giving her some hints about a few of the events they would experience on their vacation when Babe interrupted their conversation.

“Ooh what’s this?” Babe inquires while picking up Henry’s hand and cradling it in both of hers. She was referring to the invisibility ring that Henry was wearing. She then decides to twist off the jewelry and place it on her own hand. She puts it on her left ring finger and then sticks the hand out for the table to admire.

“Looks good, doesn’t it?” she inquires.

Her friends murmur their agreement but Charlotte just scoffs lightly, gives her the side eye and sips her iced tea with lemon.

“That’s actually an invention from Schwoz, I’ll take that back now.” Henry says after letting her admire it for a few more moments.

He places his hand out patiently for the ring but Babe refuses to relinquish it. “Actually, I think I like it and I’ll wear it for the rest of dinner.”

Before Henry could reply Charlotte quickly butted in and said, “Actually, I think it’s Henry’s and you’ll give it back now.”

Charlotte then smoothly turned back to Kenzie who she was sitting across from and asked her another question about the game they were previously discussing.

Babe gave the ring back without further protest.

After they had finished their dinner, they were looking at the desert menu to decide which treat they each wanted. Henry was leaning towards the sundae or a piece of cheesecake. While he was deliberating, Babe turned to Henry and asked if he wanted to share a sundae with her. Henry politely declined, he definitely wanted his own dessert.

After deciding on a slice of cheesecake he asked everyone what they were getting. Trip and Hudson both decided on fried Oreos. Kenzie chose the chocolate cake and Babe chose the Brownie with a scoop of ice cream. Charlotte got the sundae.

After ordering their last course the waiter walked away and Babe turned to Henry for the countless time. She reached her arm up and touched the front of his hair.

To his benefit, Henry quickly pulled away and asked in an incredulous tone, “Uh...What are you doing?”

“Your hair just looked so soft, I just wanted to see for myself if that was true.” Babe replied.

“You could have just asked him” Hudson responds nonchalantly.

“Yeah instead of invading his personal space.” Char says lowly under her breath.

“Well is it soft?” Trip asks curiously.

“How did it feel?” Kenzie inquired simultaneously, drowning out Charlotte’s annoyed grumbling.

“Amazing” she sighs out with a small smile in Henry’s direction.

“Thanks? I guess?” came his weirded out response.

“You’re welcome.” She said happily.

Putting her hand on Henry’s shoulder, she leans up to whisper in his ear “But speaking of thanks, how are you going to repay me for my help Kid Danger?”

Lightly pushing her away, Henry asked if she needed anything in particular.

“Well I was thinking that maybe we could go out on the town, just the two of us.”

Clearing his throat awkwardly Henry started to reply, “Actually, Char and I are d-“

“Okay guys! I have the best part of the meal for you” the waiter says while bringing out everyone’s sweets.

At this point Charlotte has had enough. She has been understanding and accommodating all night. She has tried her hardest not to make a scene about this little girl’s relentless flirting but she was done.

When Char’s sundae is in front of her she takes a bite to calm her nerves and then turns her head to the left.

“Babe?” Charlotte asks coyly.

“Yes?” Both Henry and Babe reply.

Charlotte smirks. That’s the exact reaction she was hoping to garner.

“Do you want a bite of my ice cream?” She says while holding her spoon to Henry’s face.

Henry immediately takes the spoonful of ice cream without hesitation.

Charlotte then wipes some ice cream off the corner of his mouth and licks it off her finger.

Henry stares at her lustfully the entire time.

“Mm. Delicious.” She says while returning his heated gaze. Then she reaches for his hair.

“You know what Babe, Hen really does have soft hair.” Charlotte says while running her fingers through his blond locks.

“I almost forgot since I hadn’t touched it in a while.” Henry groans as Char lightly scratches his scalp and he leans into her hand, craving more contact.

Kenzie clears her throat, breaking Henry out of his reverie.

The table goes back to their eating their desserts eagerly after that. All except Babe, who is pouting and looks as if someone has kicked her puppy.

After quickly devouring his cheesecake Henry turned to Charlotte to ask for more of her sundae.

Charlotte complied with his request by spooning another bite and holding it to his lips again. They continued alternating spoonfuls until her dessert was finished.

Since his hands were free, Char took her left hand in his right. Henry interlaced their fingers on instinct. He rubbed her palm with his thumb unconsciously. Deciding to take it a step further, Charlotte unlocked their hands and played with his slim fingers. She slowly traced each of his digits up and then back down to the center of his palm before connecting their hands again.

Babe watched this intimate action with envious eyes. Hudson was still working on his Oreos obliviously. Kenzie looked on with a dumbfounded expression while Trip nodded his head, silently praising Henry for landing a gorgeous girl like Charlotte.

When the waiter came back to clear plates and ask how everyone was paying Babe responded that everyone was separate. Henry quickly cut in that he and Charlotte were actually on a bill together.

Gathering her purse, Charlotte gave Henry a lingering kiss on the cheek and told him that she was going to the bathroom really quick.

When she left, Hudson’s eyes widened in discovery. “Wait, are you guys dating?”

Henry rolled his eyes in response.

After Charlotte finished, she washed and dried her hands and was looking down into her purse for her lipstick when she heard the restroom door open.

Glancing up, she saw Babe approaching cautiously like a frightened deer. She ignored the girl and leaned closer to the mirror to reapply the fading burgundy.

“Heeeeeyyyy.” Babe said nervously.

“Hi.” Charlotte replied while taking a paper towel and blotting the corners of her lips.

“About that... whole thing. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not the one you need to apologize to” she responds while throwing away the paper towel.

“U-ummm h-huh?” was Babe’s stammered response.

Zipping up her purse, Charlotte sighed before turning towards the brunette.

“I’m not the one you’ve hit on constantly since we arrived in New York. I’m not the one whose personal space you’ve disregarded and whose boundaries you neglected. I’m not the one who you threw yourself at wholeheartedly even though you received no reciprocation.” Char replies in a calm but commanding tone.

“I-I... But I- uhhhh... I wasn’t trying to- umm”

“But you did. You’ve made Henry very uncomfortable since we’ve been here and that’s not okay. Even if he didn’t have a girlfriend, you have got to learn how to pick up a hint. He just wasn’t into you.”

Looking down at the floor Babe said in a small voice, “I didn’t realize.”

Lifting up her head by the chin Charlotte looked into the younger girls eyes. “I know, that’s why I’m telling you. If a guy that you Didn’t like had done what you did today, how would you feel?”

Babe took a moment to think about the question seriously. ��Creeped out. Violated. Disrespected.”

“Exactly. Why do you think it’s any different with Henry?” Charlotte replied before grabbing her purse and leaving the bathroom.

When she returned to the table everyone was signing their receipts and leaving their tips. Henry stood up and placed his hands on her hips. “Everything okay Char?”

“Everything is fine” Charlotte replied before briefly pecking his lips.

When Babe came out of the bathroom she noticed their simple kiss and then saw Henry helping Charlotte into her coat.

Babe couldn’t help but let out a large sigh in disappointment. I should have known that she was his girlfriend. He kept asking if I thought she would like certain events and saying that this needed to be the best trip ever for her. I’m so dumb. No one that hot is single.

As they all exited the restaurant and journeyed back into the chilly night air Babe asked if she could talk to Henry for a moment.

Stepping aside, Babe apologized to Henry for her behavior. She said that just because he was ‘Handsome Henry’ didn’t mean she needed to be ‘Basic Babe’. She also told him that he and Charlotte made a cute couple.

He chuckled and thanked her for the compliment then let her know that there were no hard feelings. After saying goodbye he walked over to Charlotte who was wrapping up her conversation with Trip, Kenzie and Hudson. Henry bid them goodbye as well.

As they walked in the opposite direction from the group, Henry slung his arm around Charlotte’s shoulder and asked, “What did you say to her? You give her one of your famous Char Chats?”

“Maybe. What did she say to you?” Charlotte inquires while reaching up to intertwine their fingers and wrap her other arm around Henry’s waist.

“She told me that she didn’t mean to infringe upon my personal space and was sorry that she made me feel uneasy.”

“Good for her” was Charlotte’s simple reply.

“Uh Huh. So you had nothing to do with that?”

“I may have given her a quick lesson on human decency. Possibly.”

“Well I know you definitely gave her a lesson on not messing with your man.”

“I have no clue what you are talking about.”

“You were jealous. It took me a while to notice. I wasn’t sure that you could even feel that emotion, if I’m being honest.” Henry laughed.

“Still not sure what you’re referring to.” Charlotte replied.

“Don’t worry, I thought that territorial display during dessert was super sexy babe.” Henry whispered to her before gently kissing the shell of her ear.

Charlotte bit her lower lip and looked up at Henry through her eyelashes.

“Don’t get used to it” she deadpanned.

#Chenry #Henry Danger #Charlotte Page #Henry Hart #Charlotte Bolton #Kid Danger #Riele Downs #Jace Norman #Game Shakers #Babe Carano #Cree Cicchino #Kenzie Bell #Madisyn Shipman #Hudson Gimble #thomas kuc #Triple G #Benjamin Flores Jr.

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ch4nb4ng · 6 years ago

Text

The Badboy: Pt.2

Word count: 1.4k

A/N: thank you guys for the love on part 1 :) Here is part two, enjoy!

_______________________________________________________________________

A large array of eyes were casted on you when you walked into JYP high on Monday morning. It had been 4 days since anyone had seen you due to the suspension you received.

You proceeded to your locker, minding your own business, getting your books ready for 1st period. You jumped when you felt a gust of wind from someone slamming the locker door right in your face.

“Y/n, I missed you!” Momo screams, embracing you in an aggressive hug. You laugh, moving your arms around her, embracing her in return.

“Okay Momo, relax, I was only gone for a day. Did you really miss me that much?” You smirk at her, implying that she was being a little overdramatic.

“Of course I did,” She smiles at you, hugging you again, “everyone has been talking about what happened last week.”

The smile on your face drops, and unimpressed look appearing.

“Oh great, now everyone is gonna be death glaring me for-”

“No no, y/n, you got it all wrong! Not only did they say how brave you were to stand up to Changbin, but word has being going around that, Changbin is, well, lowkey, well actually high-key into you.”

Momo playfully punches you a couple of times, excitement for you coming on a little too. Your heart skips a beat at her words. He was all you could think about since your,,,,, interaction last week. You wanted to kiss him so bad. Feel his well-defined body laying on top of yours. Trace the ink that ran along his arms. Not to mention, his tongue piercing. The thought of what that could almost drove you insane. You wanted to keep your cool though. Maintain your cover. So, instead of showing your excitement, you pulled Momo into the bathroom.

You both quickly made sure no one was in there. And, when no one was, you screamed. You screamed so loud, you wouldn't be surprised if people outside were terrified.

“Oh my god Momo, are you fucking serious?” You whisper/yell, grabbing her shoulder. Your eyes went wide, staring desperately at her to make sure what you heard was correct.

“Yes y/n, I’m positive. One of his friends, Jisung I think, yeah. I overheard him talking to Hyunjin. He was saying how you were the only thing that Changbin mentioned since last week,.”

Momo looks up at you, furrowing her eyebrows, when a realisation hit her, “Did something happen that I don’t know about?”

“No! Well, kind of, but not exactly what you think.” You answer sheepishly. Checking the time, you grab her arm, pulling her to your class, “I’ll explain on the way there.”

____________________________________________________________________________

It was lunchtime finally, your favorite ‘class’ of the day. You barely had any classes with your friends, so it was nice to sit down with them and you know, catch up on all the tea.

“So, Mrs. Seo,” Jihyo starts off her conversation with you, causing you to spit out the water you were drinking, “your man has literally not stopped staring at you since you walked him here.” She smirks at you, sparking your curiosity. Slyly, you turn around to see that she was correct. Before he could turn around and look the other way, you caught his quick glance at you. A wave of butterflies fluttered through the pit of your stomach.

“Oh my god,” you sigh, tucking a hair behind your ear. You keep quiet, not really wanting to talk about the subject any longer.

“Well, don’t just sit here, girl, go talk to him.” Jihyo suggests, forcefully pushing a hand on your back to get you out of your seat.

“Ok, Jihyo, I get your signal. I’m going.” You roll your eyes at her quickly, before walking towards Changbin. You flip your hair once, walking with that confident strut you had already shown him before. You finally reach him, sitting down right next to him, the sides of your legs barely touching.

“Hey,” you smirk at him, before grabbing the apple off of his tray and taking a large bite, sucking up the juices in an extremely suggestive way, “couldn’t help but see you staring at me from across the room.”

You see Changbin heavily gulp, followed by Jisung’s gulp, and then Hyunjin’s neck repeat the same movement. After a quick lapse in persona, Changbin fixes himself, subtly putting his calloused hand right on your upper thigh. A shiver runs through you, the contact like fire sizzling under your skin.

“Wouldn’t you like that, sweetheart.” He barely looks at you, grabbing the apple with his free hand back from you, taking an even larger bite. Beads of sweat begin to form on your forehead.

“I see you’ve started calling me sweetheart again,” you state, irritation ringing through your tone, “you know how much I despise that nickname,” you say, moving your hand right on top of his somewhat hardened member.

His breath hitches, and that’s when you know, you have won. You begin to press small circles around him, palming him gently through his shorts.

“Oh would you look at that,” you look at the boys, motioning your hand towards them, them to bringing their heads into the centre of the table so you can whisper,

“I think your friend has a little crush on me.” They look at you at first with question, but then understanding as a small groan escapes Changbin’s mouth.

You shoo them away, letting them return to their conversation, (which was literally non-existent because they couldn’t get over the fact that you were literally arousing their friend in such a, public area).

“Wow, Changbin, who would have ever thought you would have a crush, especially on me huh?” You tease him, which he does not like. Having enough of your antics, he aggressively grabs your wrist, putting it to your side. To seek revenge, he moves his hand up further, until he reaches the hem of your shorts. He moves his hand over, just above your clothed clit. He begins to rub, in circular motions.

“Wh-h-h-at a-a-r-e y-o-o-u-”

“Aww, that’s cute. You think you can dom me?” He evilly chuckles, his lethal smile shining directly towards you. You grab his other hand for support, feeling like you will collapse from the immense pleasure he is giving you. And you still have clothes on.

Not having it, you get up and walk off without saying anything. You walk straight past your friends, who mind you, were in completely shock, yet awe at this sudden confidence you were exerting, to the female bathroom that was empty.

You walk in and go straight to them mirror. Checking your appearance, you manoeuvre your hair to the side.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

You jump in a fright when you turn around to see none other than Changbin facing you.

“Um this is the girls bathroom.” You sass at him.

“You know,” he begins, walking gradually closer and closer to him. You move back with each step he takes, but his pace is too quick for you.

Before you know it, he reaches you, grabbing you by the hips, before pressing you up against the bathroom. He grabs your arms, placing them above your head, allowing for him to have complete control over you.

“So, sweetheart, what is your answer? You think you can control me?” He tilts his head cockily, pressing his nose into the skin of your neck, becoming dangerously close to your lips.

Slowly, he moves away from the skin on your neck, hovering himself right over your lips. Less. than. One. millimetre. away. from. You. You, being the stubborn person you are, refuse to let him get what he wants so easily. Without hesitation, you grab his cheeks in between your finger tips, enough to distract him, pushing him off against you and flipping him, his arms now above his head, pressed against the wall.

“Oh I don’t think I can, I know,” You whisper in his ear, before releasing the pressure on his arms. You move away from him, looking into the mirror one last time before exiting.

“Wait, y/n, are you coming to Hyunjin’s party on Friday?” Changbin asks you, desperation lightly reeking in his tone.

You chuckle to yourself, “Hmmm, I’ll think about it.” You give him a wink, before walking away from him again.

You walk back to the cafeteria, reuniting with your friends once again. They all stare at you , completely gobsmacked at what had just happened. You smack your hands down on the table,

“We are going to that fucking party on Friday.”

#stray kids #stray kids smut #changbin #changbin smut #seo changbin #seo changbin smut

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