#god does it feel wrong to have a weird tiny bit of attraction to an inherited computer | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yuzukult · 3 years ago

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acquitted love || sjn & reader

title: acquitted love pairing: johnny suh x reader genre: fluff, angst, co-workers!au, lawyer!au, one-sided enemies to lovers word count: 8.7k warnings: some language/cursing, brief mentions of sex but there's no actual discussions or explicit conversations of the topic, but generally pg-13 prompt: you absolutely hate johnny suh. but when your boss pairs you two up together for one of the highest profile cases, you’re left working close with your enemy but he doesn’t seem to think that way of you. a/n: tada!! i wrote this for the @/ficscafe fic exchange event!! so @urlocalnctstan , hope you enjoy this !! i tried to write it according to what you put as your preferences, but honestly T_T it was so hard bc i was just not getting any ideas!! hopefully this is something you’d like :D enjoy !!

“God, isn’t he just… so attractive?”

Along with a click on your tongue, you feign a hit in Hyeri’s direction, whose reflexes have gotten so much faster in the past couple years of knowing you and it shows when she cowers underneath your arm. She gifts you that not-so-apologetic smile, full of mischievousness because she knows no matter how annoying she can be, you’ll still love her nonetheless.

“Why do you keep talking about Johnny? You know he’s banned as a topic of our conversations.”

Hyeri rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her white frilled blouse. You know that she doesn’t actually inhabit any romantic feelings for Johnny, but she has a problem of thinking without the usage of her brain when she sees a hot guy.

Not that you think Johnny is hot.

No.

“Come on, you can’t tell me you don’t think he’s at least an ounce of smokin’ hot.” She’s unraveled her arms by now, poking your shoulder incessantly to grasp onto your attention as you're tapping on the buttons of the copier machine. “I bet if you asked him out, he’d say yes.”

You briefly glare at Hyeri. “You realize that he and I don’t get along, right? He keeps finding stupid loopholes in the system to win his cases. He thinks with his heart, not his head, and sometimes, with whatever that thing was in his pants.” And, not to mention that he walks out the court with that big grin stretched from cheek to cheek, giving the ‘good news’ to your well-respected boss (who you desperately seek the approval of but that’s a different story for another time). And every single time, she gives him that nod of appreciation, that ‘nod of approval’ if you will, when it should be given to you and not to some asshole who fucks his way to victory.

“But he’s so hot—”

You narrow your eyes at your friend, and with a stern voice, you call out, “Hyeri.”

She shrugs. “Honestly, though, he’s hella smart. He’s got a job here, and works under your boss. It’s Park, Kim & Associates—notice how Park is first, because she’s a fucking genius. She only picks the intelligent ones to work under her. Why do you think I’m still working for Mr. Kim?”

Park Seohyun and Kim Gonghyun—one of the biggest lawyers in the region, decided to join together to build their own law firm from the ground up. They were both highly respected in their field; Kim Gonghyun spent years of his life being mentored by one of the most famous judges, and as for Park Seohyun, she was, simply put, admirable because of the obstacles she has overcome to make her dreams of working in law to be real. Being a woman, young, and beautiful, she’s had her fair share of encounters with people who disregard her potential, that is until she met Gonghyun—who, admittingly is an old man who seems like he’d be traditional, sexist, even, but he proves to also make people realize how wrong they are with their impression of him.

But, as Mr. Kim is getting older, he’s gotten a bit… lazy.

In fact, he’s been slacking so much that he’s gotten a new rep in the office—if he was your direct supervisor, or your supervisor was under him, you were on the side of the office where all the easier, uncomplicated cases were assigned. Which meant that there was a slight possibility that your talents and skills weren’t as sharp and exceptional as you thought they were.

And well, Hyeri works directly underneath Mr. Kim.

Hyeri doesn’t want a heavy workload, despite the fact that there’s a plethora of files on her desk, stacked up one onto another as tall as her PC tower, and they were all open and closed cases—needless to say that she didn’t mind it.

“Okay, but you got offered a position under Seohyun. Do you really think you’re not wasting your potential?”

Hyeri scoffs. “Never. At least, not now. I’m still in my twenties, I’d like to enjoy my youth while I can, for your information.”

You quirk a brow. “And does any of that pertain fucking Johnny? The hot guy, so you claim?”

She immediately has her hand covering your mouth and you scowl. “Shhhhh, he works here!”

You bite the flesh of her hand and Hyeri instantly retracts. “You think I don’t know my archenemy works here? He sits directly across from my office—I get the best view of the guy and I’m not even one of his fangirls.”

“You’re not gonna be one of those girls who claim they’re different because they don’t like him but then end up falling for him anyway… are you?”

Your hand goes up and Hyeri crouches down.

“Stop it.”

“Seriously though! It’s the classic e2l love story,” she has her hands gesturing in front of her like she’s making an imaginary rainbow, “Two lawyers, constantly butting heads, accept each other’s differences and learn to love—“

“The fuck is an ‘e2l’?”

“Enemies to lovers.”

“Are you high? Stop spitting nonsense.” This time, you’re waving the stack of papers that finish printing in front of her face. “Meet me for lunch later. But if you keep talking about my archenemy and I falling in love, you can kiss a free meal goodbye.”

Hyeri gasps.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Maybe. Just maybe, Hyeri might be a tiny smidge right when she says Johnny is handsome. Just a bit though, because she can’t get credit for something like that.

He’s dyed his hair this shade of brunette that sort of reminds you of roasted chestnuts on a cold, winter day, sitting inside of a cooker outside of your childhood home, baking along with some sweet potatoes your mom had gotten from a farmer’s market nearby. Johnny has this focused gaze attached to the screen of his monitor; there’s a dip in the fronts of his brows, lips tightened into a straight line, and constant switching back and forth from the computer while taking notes down in a book that’s laid open in front of him.

You wonder what’s running through his mind, or well, you’re more interested in what files he has sprawled out on top of his desk.

Truthfully, if it hadn’t been obvious enough, you weren’t quite a fan of Johnny Suh and it’s mostly due to his work ethic. He’d been notorious for his reputation of sleeping around—especially with the opposing side—so it’s hard to convince yourself that he didn’t win the case because of his actual capabilities, but it’s because he pulled some strings.

And Johnny doesn’t put much effort into denying it either.

Albeit deep down, you were a teeny bit envious of his confidence. He struts around the courtroom with ease, and when he presents his position, there’s no staggering in his voice—it’s always crisp and clean, weighted with nothing but credence, and never straying from his initial perspective. It’s never a lack of poise, it’s consistently the look he goes for; from the hand gestures and the furrowed brows, to the rhetorical questions in the end of certain statements that has the speculators and jury sitting at the edge of their seat, Johnny had a talent for performing in the courtroom, but that doesn’t mean anything when the way he gets to the success isn’t ethical.

Just at that moment, his eyes lift from the screen and meet yours.

There isn’t any hesitation when you scramble to grab the remote controller, and the shades drop over the windows instantaneously.

“Fuck,” you mutter underneath your breath, tossing the remote onto your desk and shaking your hands after. What if he thought you were admiring him? Maybe he didn’t see. Yeah. It was for a brief second, and with how close your offices were to each other, it would be common to accidentally lock eyes… right?

Interrupting your thoughts, the office phone rings and it nearly startles the living soul out of you. But before you reach for it, your head tilts to the side curiously because the extension number is familiar—it’s Park Seohyun’s, your boss.

What could she be calling for?

You don’t remember fucking something up—but to be fair, half the times, you never really know if you’ve actually fucked up until someone with steaming ears and a crimson face comes storming in. So… did you do something good? Again, you don’t think that’s right either, because other people would’ve made comments about it.

Deciding to swallow your nerves, you pick up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey!” Seohyun never fails to be bubbly, and you could never mimic her energy. You definitely had to be born with that kind of enthusiasm. “I have a favor. Hop into my office.”

Leaned back in her leather swivel chair, she had her fingers laced with each other while resting over her stomach. Johnny stands beside you (and you do your best to not look directly at him, especially after that weird staring thing), and you both feel like kids being lectured by parents from how still you are. Her office is huge, probably the size of both yours and Johnny’s combined; with ceiling to floor windows, cases of books that line the perimeter, not to mention the humongous ass couch that practically covers the other half of the room, and her desk was so wide, you estimate about four monitors would fit on there with still additional space for work. That wasn’t even the best part—the view of the city looks almost like a generic lockscreen of a Windows computer, and you’re not even sure why she goes home at night when she basically has a penthouse here.

“As you know, I have a favor.”

“Right,” Johnny retorts, mostly as a filler in the awkward silence. “So… what’s the favor?”

She pulls a box from her purse; square, black and made from a leather material with a lock pad stitched into it, something you’ve never seen before, and she slides the passcode in, then it pops the lid open. A key (a… very small one) sits in the velvety cushion, with nothing else occupying the space with it, and it looks comical. She uses this to open the very top drawer of her desk, and as she pulls using the handle, there’s another box inside, but this time, metal instead of leather, but still black.

What the fuck?

It seems Johnny shares the same thoughts, because he sneaks a glance over at you.

“You see,” Seohyun begins, pressing on the digital keys of the box until there’s a beep at the end and the case hisses open. “There’s a lot of security for this. Which means you understand the importance of it.”

Then, she picks up four manila envelopes and lies on the surface of her wooden top desk. “I have a family emergency to attend to this upcoming week. I’m boarding a flight tonight. So I’m leaving the Hwang v. Yoon case to the two of you.”

“Fuck—”

“The what?”

You and Johnny are sputtering out of shock. The Hwang v. Yoon case is the biggest case that the firm is involved in currently, and the only people involved in it have been Seohyun and Gonghyun. It’s been on every social media platform you could think of; from Facebook to Twitter, TikTok to Instagram—there’s even this weird website for emo/grunge teens or strange kids that like writing fanfic called Tumblr, and whatever that is, it’s discussed on there too.

“What about Gonghyun?”

Seohyun scoffs, closing the drawer and dropping the key back into her special box. Where do you even get a box like that? “He can’t handle this alone. So I’m kicking him off until I come back. I thought about letting the two of you work with him, but his ego is so inflated, it’ll get in the way of our chances of winning. It’s easier if it was just me and him, but seeing that things at home aren’t well, I’m going to need you two to step up to the plate.”

The room goes quiet. The only sounds you hear are the muffled noises of a typical bustling office outside the thick walls of Seohyun’s office, and at first, excitement rushes through your blood because Seohyun thought of you taking over a special, high profile case.

Albeit, another realization gets soaked up, and it’s that Johnny also came to mind, and that because it’s such an important case, the two of you would be… working… many… hours… together.

Maybe you should back out of it—but then again, this is such a one-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Imagine winning this— it wouldn’t be good for just the law firm, it’d be good for you too. Your name, in articles on these big fancy news websites, perhaps even on new channels, talking about how you, this amazing lawyer, won the Hwang v. Yoon case.

But then you’re snapped back into reality when Johnny leans over to take the envelopes from Seohyun.

If your name is on those platforms, so is Johnny’s.

God, this guy just ruins everything, doesn’t he?

“We’ll take care of it, Seohyun. You can trust us,” he says assuringly, a smile tugging on each corner of his lips with that dazzling gaze. “We’ll be at our best.”

Kiss ass.

If you had the option, you wouldn’t be spending your Saturday night here at work, in one of those conference rooms with a long table in the middle, a big projector that displays on the wall, and a random black leather loveseat couch that lines the one corner in case there’s too many occupants.

Especially since the person who’s accompanying you is Johnny Suh.

There’s probably a lot of people who would kill to be in your position (Hyeri being one of them), but you dread it. Not to be that person, but what’s so special about him anyway? What? He’s tall, has some muscles, long luscious hair that he can slick back with that sultry stare—wait, what?

“Alright, moving on…” From what? You guys just started? It’d been clear with Seohyun that the mornings would be dedicated to other cases, but nights would be considered overtime and where you’d zoom in your focus on Ms. Hwang’s justice. “Let’s take a look at the facts here.”

Johnny slips off his blazer, hanging it on the back of one of the chairs as you’re seated in another, leaning back comfortably with an arm resting on the table. He loosens the first few buttons of his dress shirt before folding up the sleeves, and that’s when you notice a little thing in the inner crook of his elbow—is that a fucking sunflower? Is that what he uses to reel girls in? That he’s soft enough to have a pretty little flower etched onto his gentle, silky and supple—

“Okay,” he says, interjecting into your thoughts with a laser pointer in his hand. He taps on the space bar of his laptop that mirrors what’s on his screen, but then, that’s when you realize what’s on the slides.

There’s a collage of pictures, mostly street, casually walking themed ones, but the common factor was that they were of Yoon Changmin, the man you guys were up against. They were all paparazzi-like photos, which begs the question, how did he get pics like this, and why did he get them?

“What’s the point of this?” you ask, voice laced with nothing but suspicion.

“We gotta get into the mind of the enemy.” You wanna get into the mind of your enemy, too.

You gesture to the one image of Changmin with an arm around his girlfriend and a finger up his nose. “Seems like he’s trying to reach inside of his head instead of us. These are just everyday pictures, Johnny. What’s that going to do for us?”

“Well,” he begins, turning to look at the wall of ‘evidence’. “You see—wait, holy shit.”

Freezing in the midst of reaching for your coffee, your head jolts in the direction of your partner. “What? What is it?”

“Holy shit,” he exclaims, “Hoooooooooly shit. Why didn’t I see this before? This changes everything.”

Furrowing your brows, you’ve given up getting your drink and dropped your hands onto the table. “Tell me, what is it?”

“This is a game changer.”

“Johnny,” you call out sternly, and his eyes link with yours before he instantly points to a particular picture with his red laser pointer.

“Look at that.” There’s pride saturated in his words, but when you look at what he’s indicating, your body slouches in disappointment.

Why the hell was he directing your attention onto Changmin’s thighs? Surely, there’s no denying that they were attractive—you recall that his alibi was at the gym that very night of the crime.

“What? He’s guilty for showing off his toothpick legs?” They were lean, you never said they were muscular.

“No,” he retorts, slightly irritated by your response as he rolls his eyes. “Look at his pants.”

“Okay…”

“They’re jean shorts.”

There’s a pregnant pause, but the expression on your face is so loud it can’t be hidden.

Johnny continues, “That’s a fashion crime.” He says it as if it’s an obvious fact known by many. “Not to mention that it’s fucking raw hem. He should be arrested.”

Suddenly, your opinion of him thinking too much with his heart dissipates because it seems like he’s thinking out of his ass instead. Did he win those cases out of pity? How did this guy even pass the bar? How about law school? How the hell did he even get into law school?

“I don’t think—”

“Listen, alright, just hear me out,” he’s got the palms of his hands resting flat on the surface of the table, doing his best to gain your full undivided attention. “Only assholes wear jean shorts. They flaunt that shit around like they own the place, but they’re horrendous pieces of clothing that should not be on a male’s body. I don’t care what you say, what your opinion is, because that is a fact.”

Puffing your cheeks, you feel at a loss. If Johnny is who you had to get this done, it feels like you’re not going to be finding much evidence any time soon.

“Okay, if… if that’s how you want to play it, then show me the evidence—other than those 2012 cut off denim shorts.”

He reaches over to hit his space bar again, then with a wink and a slide change, he leans closer to you and says with that deep, honeyed voice, “Gladly.”

You hate admitting when you’re wrong.

Ironically, you concede and will confess when you actually are, but it doesn’t mean that you enjoy it. For example, when Hyeri claims that the intern Mark had a crush on you, you quickly waved her off, stating something along the lines of, “I’m too intimidating; there’s better chances of him being scared of me than ever finding me attractive.” And then a week later, you owed Hyeri free lunch at that hip ramen place downtown because Mark had approached your desk that very morning with a bouquet of red roses flowers for you, a cheeky grin glued to his face with pools of hearts in his eyes, and ready to ask you on a date because it was the day after his internship had ended. Naturally, it wasn’t fun rejecting that poor college boy.

But, you won’t say you find Johnny interesting or handsome. Or that there’s potential when it came to possibly (just barely the slightest smidge) that you’d ever consider asking Johnny out. He’s your enemy here, you’ve mentioned that a multitude of times, and you stand firm on that very declaration, despite the fact that sometimes when he gets too close, your breath gets caught in your throat and you feel like you can’t get whatever’s lodged in out.

Albeit it’s not the whole “you guys are gonna end up together” comment that Hyeri makes and resulting in you denying it afterwards, it’s that Johnny might… be a decent lawyer.

He’s not the best one you’ve seen; the stupid revelation he had on the first day working on the case about the jean shorts is evidence for it, but it’s the days following that were slowly changing your perspective on him.

When you said, “He thinks too much with his heart more than with his head,” it was 100% correct.

When meeting with potential witnesses, you recognized that Johnny empathizes with people often; when they cry and start panicking from being overwhelmed, he's quick on his feet to put an arm around them, share reassuring words, and have them back to normal in record’s time.

And, well… you? You’re the one making them cry in the first place.

You don’t want to fully take the blame for being the cause of their tears, but people need to hear what’s happening, and the very detail that they can’t even handle this information probably means they’re not worthwhile as a key witness.

Johnny, of course, thinks otherwise.

He believes that these people should have a voice (although you’ve alluded that they might be more useless than helpful), and putting them on the stand with Yoon Changmin there would change the view of the jury to supporting Hwang Naeri.

“Listen, if we get these people to sign the form, we’d get witnesses and it’ll help Naeri,” Johnny claims, frantically moving his arms annoyingly as he talks, trying his best to express the gravity of the situation, “and maybe, maybe, money wouldn’t be how Changmin wins, but how he loses. We can’t have another person with jean shorts walking on the streets of our city like this—they deserve to go to prison.”

You scrunch up your nose. “Why does this always revert back to the jean shorts?”

“It always has to do with jean shorts,” he snaps back matter-of-factly. “Any straight guy wearing jean shorts with that much goddamn confidence has done some wrong in their lives.”

“Right, but I’m pretty sure that the crimes he did are mainly the reason why he’s being prosecuted against.”

“Jean shorts are the windows to the soul.”

“I’m almost 100% sure that eyes are the windows to the soul, but whatever. If you genuinely believe that the women we met today would benefit our case, then… okay. Let’s bring them to the stand.”

On the contrary to you, Johnny doesn’t have a hard time convincing witnesses to testify. You see the way that he works; those kind eyes directed at the participants, the pools of chocolate were sweet, saturated in nothing but tenderness and warmth, then he does that weird thing where he reaches for their hands and cups them before the words that escapes from his lips are enough to swoon them to stand in front of a courtroom.

Maybe, just maybe, there’s a method to his so-called madness.

Aggression and bluntness don’t work, it seems, because when you’re the one attempting to convince these people to go against the man that had done them wrong, they’re less willing to do it. Something about ‘moving on,’ and ‘not wanting to relive those memories again,’ but if it was you, you’d want justice. Then again, not everyone is like you, and not everyone thinks like you, and spending this abundance of time with Johnny is slowly getting you to ease into that perspective.

So… the initial impression you had of him may have been wrong.

And maybe, just maybe, you’re developing some feelings for him, just as Hyeri predicted.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

His abrupt personal question is enough to have the coffee spill into your mouth to slide down the ‘wrong throat’ because you’re choking, hand on your chest as you’re tackling to regain your breath again and Johnny only stares in disbelief, blinking blankly. “Are… are you okay?”

You glare at him through a hooded gaze. “Well,” you clear your throat once more. “Now, I am.”

“Cool.” He nods, retracting his hand so he could rub your back soothingly, deciding it’s best to stay away. “Are you going to answer my question?”

Quirking a brow, your head tilts slightly in puzzlement. “Why are you asking this?”

Johnny shrugs. “Isn’t it weird that we’ve hung out with each other for a whole week—stayed here for nights and we both don’t know anything about each other?”

Tapping your fingers against the wooden top table, you sigh. Maybe he’s got a point; after all, “Keep your friends close; keep your enemies closer,” right?

“No, I’m single.”

Johnny’s face suddenly brightens, ears perked, and his body straightens its posture in his seat at this revelation. “Oh, uh, I didn’t know that. You seemed busy in your personal life, so I, uh… was just wondering.” He looked anxious, but you couldn’t pinpoint why. “I, um, I’m single too, by the way, in case you’re wondering.” You weren’t.

The plethora of cardboard and plastic boxes scattered across the table was a representation of the night. It’s been long, exhausting, and messy, mostly because it’s a Friday night, the hearing was on Monday, and the two of you were nowhere near close to having enough to present to the court. In fear of disappointing Seohyun, the two of you agreed to stay over the office for the weekend to cram work for the case. There’s no denying that the atmosphere is weirder on the weekends, especially since, well, no one really comes here on the weekends. Johnny had to use the bathroom earlier and ran into the cleaning lady and she nearly shit her pants because she didn’t think anyone was here, so she had music blasting in her headphones.

Johnny is… interesting. He makes you laugh—or well, want to laugh, but you don’t give him that sense of satisfaction—and he’s smart but in his own weird way. He’s not like the other lawyers you’ve met, or any of the law students you attended University with because he’s more lighthearted and free-spirited than the rest, taking life in strides instead of just overwhelming himself in the abundance of stress that work brings.

He’s entirely the opposite of you.

And maybe you could learn something from the guy, but there’s something in you that brews hatred toward him. Possibility that you resent how easy he makes being a lawyer seem when you’re struggling in your day-to-day life to make things work.

But it’s way too fucking hard when he’s just… like that.

Despite all of that, he’s very generous and kind toward you. On rough days, he delivers your coffee order, the one you always get because he remembers what you asked the intern to get for you the last time, and he’s good at identifying when you’re just having that kind of day. You eventually learn he has a photographic memory (fucking show off), so when he saw that crumpled napkin with scribbles of what you want in that dumb intern’s hand, it wasn’t hard to remember. Which, by the way, is how he’s able to get into the most prestigious school for undergrad, manage to pass the bar so easily, and get into law school effortlessly.

And knowing this information sort of angers you more.

You know this isn’t his fault—he’s been blessed with a trait that people desire, one that you also yearn for, but the lucky ones get handed a lot of things in life. You wonder if he’s the type of guy who wins girls easily after matching with them on dating sites because of this stupid ass ‘photographic memory.’ Does he sleep with them right after? Does it ever get serious?

You shrug your shoulders and shake your head. You shouldn’t even let these strange thoughts haunt you, especially when you don’t even like him.

He’s a spoiled brat who gets everything handed to him on a silver platter.

So you’re left counting the remaining days until the trial so you don’t ever have to work with Johnny Suh this closely again.

Okay, well, it’s evident that bad luck is glued to your side because after you win the Hwang v. Yoon case for your law firm with that asshole, Seohyun is so impressed. So goddamn impressed that she insists that all the high profile cases are to be given to both you and Johnny.

To work as a team.

Together.

Jesus, this is Hell for you.

Surely, the promotion and raise that came along with it was definitely a plus, but it has you wondering if it’s even worth it. He’s been your unspoken enemy since the first day, and although you think you’re pretty forthright about your hatred for this guy, he can’t seem to read social cues.

When you’re pushing the double doors into the conference room the two of you often spend working on cases in, you expect Johnny to be ready for another day. But strangely enough, Johnny doesn’t have his laptop out or any of the notebooks sprawled across the table.

“Um,” you slide the strap of your bag off your shoulder and onto the spare chair. “Did you come late or something?”

He takes in a deep breath like he’s been holding back something. “We need to talk.”

There’s worry inscribed into his features; from the crease in between his brows, to his pursed lips, and eyes soaked in concern, almost like he’s got bad news to share and it has your stomach in knots. Was it that the case was thrown out? It couldn’t be, right? You both worked hard, presented your stance to the point that the jury and the judge were in awe with your findings. Sure, you had to cover Johnny’s mouth right before he was about to go off in a tangent about jean shorts, but overall, it was a good win, a hard one to go back on and pull out the wrongs of it. So what was it?

“I’m quitting our partnership.”

You blink. “What?”

He gestures to the room with his hands as if there’s anything out to reference. “This thing. Our work. The big profile cases. The famous stuff. I told Seohyun that I won’t be doing it anymore and she can revoke the promotion and the raise.”

You’re still not catching on. “… Why?” Was it something you did? Yeah, you weren’t a big fan of Johnny either, but were you so bad that he decided to not go through with the raise because of you?

“Because,” he pushes his blazer back, hands sliding into the front pockets of his navy blue trousers. “There’s a policy put into place. Those who are on the same cases cannot have any personal relations with each other that extend past friendships.”

“We’re not even friends?” With confusion written across your face, your head tilts to the side. “I’m not… I’m not catching on here.”

“I like you.”

Startled, the words you want to say are stolen out of your mouth. You’re left with a mixture of perturbation and bewilderment, uncertain where to go from there because Johnny asked for the removal of both a promotion and additional money that could be so good for his career… and it’s all because he has a crush on you?

“You quit the best thing that could’ve happened to you because you like me?”

“Yeah,” Johnny states calmly, sucking in his cheeks for a brief moment. “Ain’t that romantic?”

You scoff. “No. Absolutely not. You’re insane! Why would you do yourself dirty like that? Use your head, Johnny, you’re constantly thinking with that stupid heart of yours, and hate to break it to you, but it won’t get you anywhere.” Combing your hair with your fingers, you let out a sigh. “Go ask Seohyun for the position back. Say you made a mistake and—”

“I’m not asking her for the position back.”

Johnny doesn’t make any sense to you. “What? Why wouldn’t you do that?

“Because,” he laughs in disbelief, not because he thinks you’re funny. “I’m not going to force myself to work with a girl that I keep falling for. That’s self-inflicting, you realize that, right? You’re amazing, but you can seriously be so dense sometimes.”

“I’m dense? You just told one of the best law firms in the city that you don’t want to work on the important cases anymore because you have a stupid crush on your partner!”

“If we were on a team with more people, maybe it’d be different. But it’s just us two. You think I won’t fall any harder? That’s not easy. Every time I see you working, I swear I could be hopelessly in love with you one day.”

Your heart stops for a second.

This is Johnny Suh you were talking about here. One of the claimed best lawyers in your office, one of the most intelligent people that Hyeri has ever met, and Seohyun evidently backs this up because she’s given him so much recognition for his work. He’s the guy who worked with you to win the Hwang v. Yoon case, he’s the one who brought up the stupid jean shorts that seemed so far-fetched at the time, but they were a crucial detail everyone missed—it so happened that when Changmin bought those dumb shorts, there was evidence of at least one of his crimes in that store from the security cameras.

Any cis-gendered male who wears jean shorts can’t be trusted, according to Johnny.

And candidly speaking? You couldn’t even deny that. Your past two ex-boyfriends both wore jean shorts and the one cheated on you and the other one was caught money laundering.

“Listen,” he begins, interrupting your foggy thoughts. “I’m not asking you to tell me you like me back. I’m telling you because you should know, and that I can’t go on any further without letting you know. I’ll, uh, be in my office. Seohyun said she’d find a replacement for me.”

Hyeri is his replacement.

She’s great company and does a good job of helping you with whatever you need, but that was just it. Hyeri followed you, she never led with you, just as Johnny does. Agreeing with everything you say, mindlessly trailing behind everything you do—Hyeri was smart, but she couldn’t figure out how to think for herself when it came to these bigger cases because she’s never been given such a responsibility. But you couldn’t even blame her because it’s what she was told to do under Gonghyun.

“You said that you think Maeri snatched the bracelet?”

“No, I said if you watched the security video that the jewelry store submitted, it clearly shows that Maeri snatched the bracelet. Not that I ‘think.’ The proof is right there, Hyeri.”

She nods, resuming back to her work on the computer. Truthfully, Hyeri felt more like an assistant than a co-worker, someone to bounce ideas off of and to see from a different perspective. And as much as you hated Johnny, he had decent points. He had ways of making you put yourself into the shoes of people you never thought you were; although the guy was obnoxious, at least he actually was… good at his job.

Deciding you can’t take it anymore when Hyeri asks for the tenth time that hour about your beliefs rather than her own, you abruptly stand from your seat.

“Where are you going?”

“Out,” you reply shortly. “I’ll be back.”

It was just a spontaneous thought. It’s after hours, and although there are some people who stay behind to get some work done, you had your doubts that Johnny would still be here. He seems to have a better grip on that work/life balance thing people talked about (unlike yourself), but it didn’t hurt to check his office, right?

It’s a good thing you went with it. Because right across from yours, there’s Johnny.

There’s one single lamp that shines over the tabletop of his desk, and the other sources of light in his office are from his computer screen and the ones from the city skyline from behind him. It has him seemingly angelic like this, so serene, calm, and collected, only focused on what’s laid out in front of him. The sun has gone down, people have gone home, but Johnny remains, hardworking as always, despite your previous observations that he’s a lazy, unprofessional guy who gets everything handed down to him.

With a knock on his glass door, he flinches, head raising up and eyes meeting yours.

Were his eyes always this sparkly?

Opening the door, Johnny drops the pen in his hand and crosses his arms before leaning back in his seat. “What’s up?”

“You’re here late,” you state the obvious, and Johnny only nods in return, without a rebuttal in sight. “You aren’t normally here late. At least, before the Hwang v. Yoon case.”

“Yeah, you’re right. But Seohyun dropped something on my desk this morning. Wanted to work on it. What brings you here?”

Inhaling in a deep breath of courage, your hands bundle up into a fist by your side. “Please come back.”

Johnny raises a brow. “What?”

“Come back,” you reiterate, this time, it’s less tense and releases with ease. Caving in isn’t usually this effortless to you, but something about Johnny makes you feel… comfortable enough.“Come back and work with me again. Yes, I’m not supportive of how you do things—”

“Then let’s go out on a date.”

You freeze. Legs rooted into the floors of Johnny’s office, you’re left immobile and diffident on how to react next. It wasn’t what you were expecting, although you weren’t quite sure what you were hoping to anticipate, but it most definitely was not this.

“I—”

“I said my terms,” he retorts, shutting the book in front of him before shuffling up from his seat. He’s leaving, you realize, and Johnny’s ready to head home for the night and you’re not sure if you could handle an entire weekend with Hyeri here. “And, I meant what I said. One date, and if it really doesn’t work out, I’ll stay on the case.”

Chewing on your bottom lip anxiously, the next words that come out are out of character for you. “And… what if it does?”

A soft smile tugs from each corner of his mouth. “Then we’ll figure it out from there. Promise.”

This is… awkward. It shouldn’t be, but yet somehow, it remains awkward.

You’ve spent weeks with Johnny before, and those moments were in a room, in the middle of the night, and alone. Hours and hours were dedicated to work, yes, but it was just the two of you and nobody else.

So why is it so weird being in a five Michelin star restaurant with him?

Maybe it’s the atmosphere. The dim lights, the white clothed tables in lieu of the scratched up wooden one back at the law firm, and instead of leather seats, there’s a neutral beige chaise cushion for the dining chair, slightly less comfortable because it doesn’t recline like the one in your office. Instead of an array of photos and evidence disseminated in front of you, there’s a laminated menu with a multitude of options of what to have for dinner.

Johnny gets the steak with mashed potatoes and string beans, and you order something similar but seared salmon for the main protein. The waitress offers wine, babbling on about the age of the red, where the vineyard is located, and the dryness to sweetness—to be honest, you could care less; you’d rather have gin and sprite with a squirt of lime. A couple glasses of that and you can almost guarantee that the night would end with a deep slumber.

Oddly enough, Johnny seems nervous. Ever since he pulled up in his midnight black Audi in front of your apartment complex, he’s been acting strange. He keeps wiping his sweaty palms off the material of his trousers, occasionally swiping off the droplets that fall on the side of his face.

“Are you… okay?” you suddenly ask, adjusting your dress in your seat. Deciding to go with a black silk dress with a slit up the leg and your hair let down, it’s not a look you often sport but since you’re going on a date (one you haven’t been on in quite some time), you figured it would be nice to at least play the part.

“I’m, uh, honestly, I’ve never really asked a girl out before.”

You quirk a brow curiously. “What? You’re telling me you never asked a girl out before?”

He lets out a bashful laugh with a faint nod, making an attempt to swallow his nerves after. “Honestly, I’ve always been asked out and not the other way around. Not to sound like that guy, but I never really had to put effort into trying for girls. They kind of just…”

“—Throw themselves at you?”

He beams. “Yeah! Like that. I don’t really know how to react half the time, but it makes the whole dating scene a little bit easier.” Geez, he called you dense, but he’s over here acting clueless.

Either way, it feels like whatever opinion you had about Johnny remained true. He never had to try when it came to the dating scene, and you could only imagine what that means for work and the relationships he has with the women in your career field.

“Mm, does that usually happen with work too?”

Befuddled, Johnny leans back in his chair. “What do you mean by that?”

With a shrug of your shoulders, you’re poking the meat of your salmon that falls off easily. After the first initial bite, the fish practically melts on impact when it touches the tip of your tongue, smooth like butter and bursting with flavor that couldn’t be described by any common person because it wouldn’t do the salmon justice. Johnny seemed to put a lot into this date, and you’re left pondering what the point of this was. Did he actually like you, or was he trying to get into your head? “Just seems like you get a lot of special treatment.”

“Are you jealous?”

“In what way?” you snap back.

“Are you jealous of me because I’m getting this so-called special treatment that you think I’ve always had, or were you jealous of the girls that seemingly got my attention?”

You’re left without anything to say.

It was a good observation he made because truthfully, you never saw it like that.

In actuality, you often saw Johnny as your rival. He climbed the ladder in the field with ease, and it wasn’t hard to quickly blame his success on the fact that he was a guy in a male dominated industry, but the fact that there’s a possible interpretation for your hatred may be from these feelings you might’ve been harboring for him this entire time… that can’t be it… right?

“I mean, look at where you are now,” you begin, trying to defend yourself. It can’t be true that the reason you’ve been bitter about Johnny was because of the girls that got his attention, and one of them not being you. “You got a high position from—”

“—From hard work,” Johnny interjects with his brows furrowed. “I didn’t get to where I was because I slept around, if that’s what you’re insinuating. I knew you sort of always hated me, but I’ve always admired you. I like your work ethic, I like your style, even though we’re both on opposite spectrums, I like the way you think and I wanted to know what it was like being partners with you. Getting to be on that case with you showed me more than just who you were as a lawyer, but who you were as a person. I like you, but I’m trying to put my finger on why you hate me so much.”

“So you noticed.” Sucking in your cheeks, your eyes trail elsewhere—from the fork that lays beside your plate, to the glass filled halfway with wine, to the little candle that sits in between the two of you that flickers the way he has your heart when he expresses once more how he feels about you.

“Yeah, of course I noticed. If you like someone, it’s kind to miss details like that about them. So… you really hated me because you thought I slept my way to the top, huh?”

“I mean…” shoulders dropping in exasperation, you run your fingers through your disheveled hair. “All those rumors—”

“Again, they’re just rumors. I worked hard to get here, you know. And I’m kind of offended that you thought of me that way.”

You scoff. “They’re rumors, Johnny, it’s kind of hard to ignore all the office gossip when that’s all you hear. Plus, it wasn’t hard to believe either, with the whole flirtatious act whenever you encounter anyone who’s breathing and has a vagina.”

“I wasn’t flirting.”

“You need a book for dummies that elaborates on what’s flirting or not, because Johnny Suh, whatever it is you do with your body language in front of that chick who sits by the front door.”

“You mean Siwoo? The pregnant one who’s married to her highschool sweetheart? Also, how do you not know our receptionist’s name?”

You throw your arms into the air. “How am I supposed to know her name?”

He tilts his head to the side, genuinely baffled. “Do you… not talk to anyone outside of Hyeri?”

Your silence answers his question.

“I… honestly, I don’t know if I should be offended or if I should be honored. You think I didn’t earn anything that I have now, you think that everything I have was handed to me. On one hand, it’s flattering that you think my looks and my bedroom skills could do that but at the same time… I’m offended because you think I’m incapable.”

“I never said you were incapable—”

“But you implied it.”

Hands falling onto your lap, it’s your turn to gulp. His words come shooting at you, but you’re without a shield to protect yourself, and with the new experience of working with Johnny, there comes the realization at times that Johnny is a hard worker. There are some things that he says and does that aren’t like the people you’ve encountered, and being put on new cases with Hyeri only proved it. He’s thoughtful in the sense that whenever you’d bring up your stance on something, he challenges you with what the defense might counter.

Johnny makes you want to be better. Not just against him, but to brush off the dust on your skills and enter into the battlefield of a courtroom to showcase them.

“Well, if you’re staying silent, I just want to say that I tried,” the crinkle in between your brows makes another appearance because Johnny is great at leaving you stunned and confused. “I really like you. I love how your head works, and I wanna be with someone like that but I also can’t be with someone who doesn’t respect me.”

Why is it that when you’re in that conference room with him, you’re not afraid and never running out of things to say, but now you’re empty handed?

“I’ll pay for dinner. Grab you an Uber. I honestly thought I could overlook those things, and maybe your perspective for me has changed, but I could see it on your face. It’s the same.”

After that date with Johnny, his life turns back to normal.

Yours? Not so much.

Candidly speaking, part of you missed working with Johnny. You were wrong about him, so wrong, and even when you wanted to apologize at the dinner for what you thought of him, the pride in you was like a vicious plague that blackened your insides, preventing you from ever saying those words.

Oftentimes, you’d still be able to sneak a glimpse of him in his office with that same look on his face—full of concentration and nothing else in his mind other than the task at hand.

The cases you have with Hyeri entail a head like Johnny’s. Someone who could question you, to protest against your stance when there could be flaws in it. It feels like deja vu each time you think about it, each time you open a new case file and Hyeri sits there, perched in that seat beside yours, eyes sparkling with what you have in mind next, instead of what she has going on in hers.

Although you’ve tried convincing yourself that maybe, just maybe, what you feel for Johnny is purely professional but when you see him standing by the water cooler with a couple of your coworkers, eyes mimicking the moon crescents in the skies, replicating the ways his lips curl in elation—it was beginning hard to believe that it was all platonic feelings.

So maybe you should be bold for once. Pull off that exterior that displays you as someone who isn’t just independent and assiduous, but someone who’s stubborn and aggressive in getting what they want—and not in a good way.

This time, you’ll show it in a good way.

Or at least, you’ll try.

Johnny is a routine kind-of-guy—he grabs an iced americano every morning at the coffee shop downstairs at the edge of the street, he does his daily 11:00AM drop-by at the water cooler to refill his Hydroflask (which was his prized possession, by the way), and parked in the same exact spot in the parking garage of your building, despite there being an abundance of places he could choose.

That’s why you decide to stand by his car after work that day. Bouncing on the balls of your feet, hands shaking because it’s your turn to feel anxious. That blazer that once fit so comfortably in the morning suddenly feels tight and hot in the afternoon, and the weather hasn’t even changed. Your bag slung over your shoulder weighs ten times heavier than an hour ago, and you can’t stop your jaw from tightening.

Before your thoughts could spiral off all the possibilities of what the outcome may be when you tell Johnny how you feel, he’s already standing there, feet away from you with that dip in the fronts of his brows that you want to smoothen out the crinkles of with the pad of your thumb.

“Hi,” you greet, faint and peculiarly different from your other approaches. “Um, I just… was waiting for you.”

“Hey,” Johnny says back, the first few buttons of his shirt already unraveled, his blazer hung over his forearm and the sleeves are rolled up. “I see that. What’s up with you?”

“Um,” your leg was jittery, hard to control so you spat everything you had to say out as fast as you could before he could see right through you. “I just wanted to apologize. For everything. You’re admirable, kind, and I wish I inhabited those same characteristics you have. I think professionally, you’ve got great ideas, one that could be implemented into mine and what we did together for that case was just… yeah. We could do something big if we put our heads together.”

Johnny nods in agreement. The relationship between you two work-wise was obvious, he knew that much. “And what about… outside of that?”

“I like you,” you choked, barely getting the words out. “More than just coworkers, um, I guess, more than friends but I’m not really sure since you walked out on our first date,” inhaling in a deep breath of courage, you continue on, “and I don’t know how you feel now after I’m standing before you like this, asking for another chance and that I’m sorry.”

He stares at you blankly, and it leaves you unsure whether or not he accepts your apology. “You know why we ended that date early.”

“Well,” you start again, “can we… start over and try again? I promise I won’t tempt you to end the date early this time.”

And with that, there’s the signature smile that Johnny sports that swoons girls, makes their knees weak, and heart clench but this time… it’s just for you.

“I’d really like that.”

#ficscafe #nct fanfic #johnny x reader #johnny fanfic #johnny suh #johnny nct #nct 127 #nct 127 fanfic #suh johnny #gyukultfics #idk what else to tag #hopefully this does well :|

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cooliogirl101 · 3 years ago

Note

so what happened with nana and shamal? are they a less intense version of gin and hisana? 🤔

The first time Shamal sets eyes on Nana Fujiwara, he is convinced he’s seen an angel. He takes in the warmth of her eyes, the silkiness of her hair, the way she smells like white tea and jasmine, and he leaps at her with welcoming arms, ready to embrace her and press himself against those soft, inviting curves.

He’s promptly enveloped in an enormous cloud of pepper spray. That basically sets the tone for the next two years of their relationship.

In general, Nana likes to think of herself as someone who gets along pretty well with people. She knows she has a bit of a temper, but she tries her best to keep it under control and to remain patient, calm, and understanding.

That all goes out the window when it comes to Trident Shamal.

There are a lot of things about Shamal that she hates. She hates the way he leers at and chases after every girl he finds attractive. She hates his stupid, perverted grin and she hates the stupid, dopey look he gets on his face every time she sees him, and she hates his stupid, fucking ridiculous rule about ‘not treating men.’

Most of all though, she hates how he gets away with it. How every single member of the administration simply laughs it off, telling her it’s “just some harmless flirting, don’t worry about it.” One professor tells her she should be flattered and she almost commits homicide right then and there.

Then to top everything off, she can’t even avoid him because as the top two members of their class, they always end up getting paired together for projects, which was...just typical.

Honestly, Nana thinks the fact that she hasn’t killed him yet is an enormous testament to her self control. She could probably put that on her resume under ‘special skills’-- has refrained from murdering classmate (was there a word for that? Classmate-cide? Peer-tricide?) despite being given literally hundreds of reasons to do so.

Not to say she hasn’t imagined doing so. Vividly. She ended up doodling so many scenarios that she had to get a second notebook.

Any other day, and Shamal would have been thrilled to have Nana Fujiwara, the loveliest, prettiest, most adorable girl in his class, knocking on his door. Any other day and he would’ve been more than happy to wax poetic about her beautiful smile, her fiery personality, her large, doe-like eyes, the soft curve to those plump, inviting lips, the-- well, the list goes on.

Right now however, he hadn’t showered in three (or was it four?) days, he was drenched in his own sweat, he was running a fever of 39.5 C, his head was throbbing painfully, everything hurt, and to top everything off, the room smelled strongly of vomit.

“Shamal, I know you’re in there! Open up!” Shamal groaned miserably, covering his eyes with one arm as the pounding at the door caused his headache to go from ‘someone trying to drive an iron spike through my head’ to ‘iron spike is now on fire and accompanied by a hundred tiny hammers, please kill me now.’

“Goddammit Shamal, you were supposed to send me the draft of your half of the project three days ago! Open the door!” Nana continued to shout through the door. “I swear to god, if you don’t open up, I will kick your door down, don’t think I won’t--oh.”

Nana blinked, irritated scowl melting away at the sight of his appearance. She frowned, a touch of concern creeping into her expression.

“Are you...okay?” She asked hesitantly. It was the first time he’d heard Nana Fujiwara sound hesitant and Shamal hated it.

Summoning up whatever last reserves of strength he had left, Shamal put on his best flirtatious grin, eyes curving up into crescents.

“Aww, you don’t have to be worried about me, beautiful!” He cooed, then clenched his teeth as he felt his stomach swoop nauseatingly. “I’ll be fine, just had a lil’ too much to drink last night.” He leaned casually against the doorframe, which had the added benefit of keeping him mostly upright. “I just need to sleep it off and then--”

“Yeah no, you’re clearly not okay. Stupid question,” Nana murmured, clearly ignoring everything he’d just said. She stepped closer, placing a hand against his forehead. “Jesus, you’re burning up. Come on, I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“No!” He shouted. Nana flinched, startled, and Shamal cursed under his breath. He hadn’t meant to do that.

“No,” he repeated, calmer this time. “No hospitals. I’ll be fine.”

“Shamal--” Nana began.

“They won’t be able to do anything,” he interrupted. “I’ve been through this before, I know how it goes. I just need to wait it out.” He swallowed. “Going to a hospital won’t help. Please, Nana, I--”

He suddenly doubled over, retching violently the rest of his words disappearing under a river of vomit. Shamal had just enough time to see Nana’s eyes widen before he slipped into blissful unconsciousness.

Shamal woke up to gentle hands dabbing at his face with a cool washcloth, the pleasant scent of white tea and jasmine, a familiar voice murmuring soft reassurances in his ear.

“Shhh, you’re okay. It’s just me,” the voice whispered. “Go back to sleep.”

“Nana?” Shamal asked, fighting to stay awake. “You stayed.”

There was a pause.

“Yeah,” she said finally. “Yeah. I stayed.”

Honestly, Nana had no idea what possessed her to actually listen to her obviously sick, half-delirious, idiot classmate instead of doing the reasonable thing, which would’ve been to dump him at the nearest hospital.

Maybe it was the fact that he’d actually called her by her name for once, instead of some stupid pet name. Maybe it was the fact that she knew firsthand how miserable hospitals could be and could sympathize with his desire to avoid them at all cost. Or maybe it was the fact that she recognized the tone of voice he’d used when he’d told her that there was nothing the doctors could do to help him-- the kind of resigned certainty that could only come from experience, of having your hopes dashed over and over. It was a tone of voice she was well acquainted with.

(“I’m sorry Christina, there’s nothing more we can do.”)

It could have been any one of those reasons, or all three of them. She tried not to think too much about it.

It took another two days before Shamal’s fever started coming down and three before he started sounding halfway coherent again. On the fourth, she found him sitting in bed with his breakfast untouched on the nightstand next to him.

“Is something wrong?” Nana asked, frowning. “Are you feeling nauseous again?” When he shook his head, she continued, “I can make something else if you don’t like--”

“Why?” Shamal interrupted.

“Why what?” Nana asked, puzzled. “Why did I make eggs? I was looking up things that are good to eat when you’re sick and I came across a recipe for Chinese steamed eggs. I wish I knew about this before, I mean like it provides protein but it’s soft like a custard so you don’t have to chew much and--”

“No, why-- why do all this? Why go to this much trouble for me?” Shamal demanded, gesturing wildly with his hands. “The cooking, and the-- the washing, and you even cleaned up my apartment, and I don’t-- I don’t understand why--”

“Well, what was I supposed to do, just leave your unconscious body lying there on Death’s front doorstep?” Nana asked uncomprehendingly.

“I threw up on you!” Shamal snapped, sounding mortified.

“Yeah, you aren’t the first person to throw up on me, and you won’t be the last,” she responded dryly. “I’d be in the wrong line of work if I let a little vomit get to me.”

When he still refused to meet her eyes, she sighed.

“Look Shamal, I may not like you-- actually, I can’t stand you-- but that doesn’t mean I want you to suffer like this. You don’t deserve that, no one deserves that.”

No one deserved to feel like their body was failing them. Nana swallowed, forcing her voice to remain steady.

“I was in a position to help, and so I did,” she said quietly. “It’s as simple as that.”

“...as simple as that,” Shamal echoed. “You truly mean that, don’t you? No favors, no debts, just--” He laughed, a little disbelievingly. “You’d go above and beyond the call of duty even for those you hate, just because it was the right thing to do.” He shook his head, a faint smile on his lips. “You really are something else, Nana Fujiwara.”

Nana glanced away, suddenly unable to meet his eyes. She wasn’t sure if he was just acting weird due to the lingering fever, or-- or dizziness from missing breakfast, but something about the way he was looking at her in that moment--

“I should take your temperature again, it’s been over eight hours since I last checked it,” she said abruptly. “I think I left the thermometer in the other room, wait here.” She marched off and tried to ignore how it felt like running away. “Eat your eggs.”

#would really love to hear what you guys think of this relationship dynamic!#solar flame au #wtl!au

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chicgeekgirl89 · 3 years ago

Text

The Fifteen Minutes After

Fandom: 911 Lone Star

Characters: Carlos Reyes, T.K. Strand

Rating: EXTREMELY T

Summary: "It felt like a challenge. And the answer was no. Carlos absolutely could not handle whatever was going on right now, hence why they were about to walk into his home and do whatever it was you did with a one night stand you picked up at the bar."

A/N: "Yes, I recall the fifteen minutes after we met." Since we didn't get to see any of those fifteen minutes I have filled in the blanks. Episode tag for 1.01. Huge shoutout to @bluenet13 who basically deserves a co-writer credit at this point because I literally can’t post without her.

Read it on AO3

Captain Strand’s son was…not a good dancer. Carlos had to bite his lip to keep from laughing as he watched the other man attempt to shimmy and follow along with the steps. It was adorable. Incredibly, wonderfully adorable. And no matter how bad his hip shaking was, Carlos still found him incredibly attractive.

Also, he should probably introduce himself so he could stop referring to him as ‘Captain Strand’s Son’. “I’m Carlos, by the way,” he said as they turned to the left and then to the right.

“T.K.,” he said, flashing him a ridiculously cute smile.

T.K.? Well that was different. Carlos would have pegged him as more of a Ryan or a Chris, but T.K…he liked it. He liked him a lot.

“Does that stand for something?” he asked, kicking out his feet in time with the music.

“Yep.” T.K. gave him another sassy smile that said he would probably have to work to get the answer.

The dancers turned to face the back wall and Carlos turned with them. When he turned back he found T.K. checking out his ass. His eyes slid up to meet Carlos’ and he didn’t look in the least bit sorry to have been caught. “Like what you see?” Carlos asked, flashing a smile of his own.

Like what you see? Who the hell was he tonight? Carlos was a confident guy, but he wasn’t usually so cocky with people he’d just met. His mother had raised him with manners. All of which had apparently gone out the window the second he got an eyeful of T.K. Strand.

“Not bad,” T.K. said, his eyes full of laughter and…a little bit of desire? Maybe? Was Carlos reading that right? God, he’d been out of the dating game too long, he couldn’t even tell anymore.

“Not bad?” he repeated.

“You heard me,” T.K. said with a smirk.

Carlos felt himself growing tongue tied. Yet another thing that didn’t typically happen. He was a controlled guy. Confident. Not falling all over himself over a guy he’d known for all of five minutes. What the hell was wrong with him?

“It’s just kind of hard to tell,” T.K. said leaning close to him, “with your jeans on.”

If Carlos had been sipping a drink he would have choked. As it was he missed a step and nearly stumbled into the woman next to him. “Sorry,” he apologized as the song ended and the crowd shifted around him.

By the time he looked up again T.K. had moved back to the bar, but his eyes were still on Carlos, who found himself walking toward him as if pulled by a magnet, butterflies fluttering in his stomach. He absolutely had not come here tonight looking for a hookup. He’d just come to hang out with Michelle. He hadn’t even thought about the hot firefighter from the call earlier. And he definitely hadn’t been hoping he would see him again sometime.

He was halfway back to T.K. when his path was blocked by Michelle. “Hey you need a drink?”

“Uh, no, I’m good,” Carlos said, looking past her to where T.K. leaned against the bar top, a smirk all over his face, clearly having clocked the situation.

Michelle peered at him closely. “You okay? You look a little flushed.”

“What?” Carlos snapped his eyes back to her. “Yeah, yes, I’m fine. It’s just hot in here.”

His eyes found the bar again, but T.K. had disappeared and Carlos felt something akin to panic as he scanned the room trying to find him. Which was ridiculous. Because they didn’t even know each other. At all.

“You sure you’re okay? You’re acting strange,” Michelle said skeptically.

“I—yes.” Carlos caught a glimpse of T.K. headed out the front door. “I’ll be right back.”

Michelle called something after him but Carlos was already gone, pushing through the crowd to the front of the Honky Tonk.

The night air was cool against his burning cheeks as he searched the parking lot for T.K. “Well fancy meeting you out here,” said a voice to his left and Carlos pivoted to find T.K. sitting on top of the low porch railing that ran along the front of the building, half hidden in the shadows.

“Are you leaving?” Carlos asked, trying to keep his tone casual even as desperation filled him. He didn’t want this man to go. For a thousand reasons he couldn’t even explain.

“No, I was waiting for you,” T.K. said, taking a step forward.

Carlos’ breath left him in a rush and before he could even think he was moving, crashing into T.K., lips seeking, hands fumbling.

It was intense. T.K. tasted like spice and mint and a little bit of smoke. And Carlos wanted more. So, so much more. He was used to being the one in control, but T.K. met and matched his every move, parting his lips, hands sliding under his shirt, bodies bumping up against each other.

Carlos moved to T.K.’s neck and smiled when the other man let out a groan, his fingers fisting in the fabric of Carlos’ shirt. His hips bucked against Carlos’ and Carlos made an appreciative noise of his own.

His heart was pounding so hard in his chest it was almost painful but he couldn’t stop, didn’t want to stop. He just wanted more and more and more.

It wasn’t until he felt T.K.’s fingers on his belt buckle that a tiny sliver of reason managed to worm its way through the screaming haze of his libido. He pulled back just a little bit, his breathing so ragged it was like he’d just run a marathon. He felt almost dizzy with want and lust. “Wait, just, hold on,” he rasped.

T.K. made a noise that almost sounded like a whine, but he allowed Carlos to take a half step back. “We can’t—I’m a police officer, I can’t hookup with you out here like this.”

“Are you sure?” T.K. asked, lips finding Carlos’ earlobe and Carlos felt his resolve weaken so much his knees almost gave out.

“I—yeah. I mean your entire crew is inside.” Another thought struck him and his eyes grew wide. “Your dad is inside.”

“Maybe we should get out of here then,” T.K. said, his voice low and full of sex.

Yes, yes, that was a thing you could do, right? They didn’t have to stay here, they could go somewhere else. “My place or yours?” Carlos asked.

“Yours,” T.K. said immediately. He seemed to realize he’d spoken too quickly and looked a little bashful. “I uh, I currently live with my dad.”

Well that was fucking adorable. How could this man be so cute and so sexy at the same time? It didn’t seem possible.

“No shame in that,” Carlos said. “I lived with my parents until I graduated from the police academy.”

How had they gone from pawing at each other to such easy and practical conversation? Carlos felt like his head was spinning. T.K. smiled and adjusted his shirt so he looked slightly less rumpled. “Just uh, just give me a minute?”

“Yeah, sure, of course, take your time,” Carlos said immediately.

T.K. looked him up and down and let out a breath, pointing a finger at him. “Don’t go anywhere.”

He disappeared inside and Carlos took a second to try and unscramble his thoughts. He pulled out his phone and texted Michelle. Heading home. Headache.

Seconds later a text came back. Really? Okay. Feel better.

Of course she wouldn’t be suspicious. Because Carlos never took guys home. Ever. It was a rule. A big rule. Not something that he did. Until tonight. Apparently tonight he did. Oh god, what was he doing?

He was about three seconds away from hopping into the Camaro and driving away as fast and as far as he could when T.K. reappeared, all smiles, his hair still mussed from Carlos’ fingers just minutes before. “You good?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Carlos said. “Yeah let’s go.”

If Carlos had been worried about the twenty minute drive home and whether it would be awkward or a mood killer, he didn’t need to be. T.K. was charming and easy to talk to. He kept the conversation flowing so easily that Carlos felt like he’d known him for years rather than minutes.

“So you have any weird roommates I need to know about or anything?” T.K. asked as Carlos turned onto his street.

“No,” Carlos said. “No roommates. I live by myself.”

“Interesting. Are you sure I’m not a serial killer or something? Isn’t it a little dangerous for you to take me home like this?”

Carlos chuckled. “I’m a cop T.K.”

“Oh, so you think you can handle me?”

It felt like a challenge. And the answer was no. Carlos absolutely could not handle whatever was going on right now, hence why they were about to walk into his home and do whatever it was you did with a one night stand you picked up at the bar.

Carlos glanced over and looked him up and down. “I guess you’ll have to wait and find out.”

The butterflies were back as they walked through the front door. He was completely out of his depth and trying hard as hell not to let it show. He tried to remember everything Adriana and Francesca had told him in vivid, explicit detail about their own one night stands, but everything seemed to have left his brain except for T.K.

“Can I get you anything?” he asked as he turned to lock the front door. “Water or—”

Before he could finish, T.K. was on him, lips against his, hands in his hair, hard and hot and intense. And for all his nerves, now that the moment was here, Carlos didn’t hesitate, grabbing T.K.’s ass and pulling his hips into his own. It felt like his whole body was on fire. Appropriate since the man he was currently making out with was a firefighter.

It seemed like T.K.’s hands were touching him everywhere at once, tangling in his hair, gripping his waist, sliding across the planes of his chest and stomach, and Carlos couldn’t get enough of the way his fingers moved so tenderly across his skin.

Carlos’ own fingers were making quick work of the buttons on T.K.’s shirt. “Is this okay?” he managed to ask.

T.K. nodded, letting his head fall back against the wall, eyes closed, breathless as Carlos pressed a kiss to his chest for each button he undid. He was holding back a little bit, trying to gauge T.K.; what he liked, what he didn’t, although, so far, it seemed like T.K. pretty much liked everything. “My bedroom’s upstairs,” he mumbled against T.K.’s skin.

“Okay,” T.K. said, but he didn’t seem to be in a hurry to get there, grabbing Carlos’ face and lifting him so their mouths met once more.

His hands moved to Carlos’ belt and this time Carlos didn’t protest as T.K. undid the buckle and then moved onto Carlos’ jeans. He paused briefly, eyes meeting Carlos’. “Yeah?” he asked, searching for consent.

“Yeah,” Carlos replied and T.K. wasted no time undoing the button and the zipper, pushing his jeans down until they hung low on his hips.

Carlos wasn’t sure how they made it up the stairs without dying, both of them half undressed, falling all over each other. When they finally reached his bedroom he felt desire burn down his spine so hot and fast he could hardly stand it. He steered T.K. toward the bed by his hips and gently pushed him down. “Oh so that’s how it is?” T.K. asked with a laugh as Carlos pulled his shirt off.

“Yeah, that’s how it is,” Carlos said as he climbed onto the bed. “Do you think you can handle it?”

“I guess we’ll find out,” T.K. said with a grin.

Time seemed to slip away and before he knew it, it was the early hours of the morning. T.K. was up and pulling on his clothes. “You can stay, you know,” Carlos said, shifting in the bed. “If you want. It’s late.”

“You don’t do this a lot do you?” T.K. asked with a smile.

Carlos barked out a laugh. “Not really.”

Never would be more accurate, but T.K. didn’t need to know that.

“I gotta say I’m surprised. A guy like you,” T.K. let his eyes wander appreciatively over Carlos’ body, “I can’t believe everybody in that bar wasn’t trying to take you home.”

Warmth flooded through him. Was this bliss? It wasn’t love. For sure. You couldn’t fall in love after one heated make-out session and a couple hours of mind-blowingly good sex, right?

“I already called an Uber,” T.K. said. He sat down on the edge of the bed. “This was fun though. We should do it again sometime. Give me your phone, I’ll put in my number.”

Carlos reached for his nightstand but came up empty handed. “I think my phone’s in my pants downstairs.”

T.K. grinned, clearly remembering exactly how those pants had come off. “Do you have a pen?”

Carlos managed to find one and T.K. took it, then reached for Carlos’ hand, carefully writing down his cell number. “Don’t lose it,” he said with a smile.

Carlos would have it tattooed onto his skin if necessary.

T.K.’s phone buzzed and he looked down. “That’s my ride. No don’t get up,” he said when Carlos began to rise. “I’ll lock the door behind me.”

He leaned over and pressed one more burning kiss to Carlos’ lips. He turned when he got to the doorway, biting his lip and eyeing Carlos critically. “Very nice.”

“What?” Carlos asked in amused confusion, pushing himself up onto his elbows.

“Your ass. Now that I’ve seen it, I can say for sure, it’s very nice.”

T.K. grinned at him and then vanished down the stairs. Carlos snorted and shook his head. He wasn’t sure what the hell had just happened, but whatever it was, he’d liked it. A lot. And he really hoped they would do it again.

#911 Lone Star #911 LS #Tarlos #Carlos Reyes #T.K. Strand #It's not smut #But it's close #Lots of making out #And clothes coming off #But the private times stay private #Carlos is a sucker #And totally in love with T.K.#And T.K. is down for a good time

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nikki-writes-stuff · 5 years ago

Text

At the Edge of the Woods (Werewolf!Steve x Reader)

Summary: When you move into a cottage on the edge of the forest, you’re ready to start a new life in a new, quiet town. But when you attract the attention of Steve Rogers, a man who everyone in town seems to dislike and fear, your world is turned upside down after he decides that you belong to him.

Pairing: Werewolf/Alpha!Steve x Omega!Reader

Read part two here!

A/N: Hey, guys! So a couple warnings about this one: it contains stalking, a/b/o dynamics, non-con, dub-con, breeding kink, and a whole lotta sin. Also, this is my first time writing anything with alpha/omega stuff in it, so be kind! And let me know if you liked it or if there’s anything I need to work on when writing about this sorta thing. Thank you so much, and enjoy!

It was love at first sight. From the moment you laid eyes on the cottage, you knew it would become your home. The thing was tiny, barely any bigger than a shack, and it was a good fifteen minutes’ drive from the nearest sign of civilization. But you didn’t care; you were enamored with the thick layer of ivy that had overtaken the western wall of the structure, and there were huge bushes of honeysuckle growing along the edge of the forest just a few feet from the backdoor.

And when your real estate agent told you the price of the property, the deal was immediately sealed.

“You’re kidding,” you’d deadpanned. “That’s all?”

“Yep,” she’d grinned, clutching her binder of properties tight against her chest. “Quite the bargain, huh?”

“I mean… Yeah,” you’d laughed. “It must be too good to be true. What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing, structurally,” she began, “The plumbing is on the older side of things, but it passed inspection. Same goes for the heating and air conditioning. There’s been a bit of a rodent problem in the past, but the appraiser said that a few mouse traps should do the trick to take care of that.”

Her smile had fallen at that point, though, and she shifted on her feet as she considered her next words.

“What is it?” you’d prompted.

“Well… The thing is,” she said sheepishly, “The locals have this superstition about the woods in this area. People say that they’re, uh…haunted.”

“…Haunted?”

You were barely able to contain an amused grin from overtaking your face, and with a shrug you turned back toward the kitchen, admiring the view of the trees through the little window above the stove.

“I know, it’s pretty weird,” the agent chuckled. “But people around here really do believe it. Something about an urban legend. I will say, though, that coyotes and wolves are known to roam around at night, so that’s probably where the paranoia comes from. Just try not to go out after dark. And if you get any chickens or outdoor animals, I’d keep them inside a kennel.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” you assured her. “I’m not exactly a farmer. I’m just looking for a place to settle down.

“And I think this cottage is the perfect spot.”

A month later, after the papers were signed and your possessions were moved in, you found yourself happier than you’d ever been in your new abode. You’d purchased house plants and artwork, designing the small space until it was exactly to your liking. You’d even decided to take up gardening, and your tiny back porch had become dotted with pots filled with flourishing herbs.

You fell into an easy routine. On Mondays, you would venture into town, picking up groceries from the local mart and picking up any other supplies you needed. Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays were dedicated to your work; you were the owner and manager of a blog that had become an overnight success several months ago, and so you spent those days curled up in the cottage, typing away at your laptop and creating content.

The only strange thing thus far had been the town residents’ reaction to you. Everyone was friendly, of course, and they’d made it clear that small town hospitality was a value the entire population seemed to share, but you weren’t oblivious to the way they side-eyed you. No one ever looked suspicious, per se, more like…expectant. Like they were waiting for you to say or do something, though you had no idea what it could be.

Earl, the bookstore owner, was by far one of the friendliest people you’d ever met, and after four weeks of the bizarre treatment, you finally asked him about it.

“Oh, don’t mind us,” he waved you off, sliding your new books into a paper bag. “It’s just that no one’s ever lasted long in that cottage o’ yours.”

“…Well, that’s a bit…unsettling. What happened to them?”

“Nothing,” he was quick to assure you. “Nothing bad happens to ‘em. It’s not like they’ve gotten hurt or anything. It’s just that, uh… Well. Strange things seem to happen in that part o’ the woods at night, and it’s scared the last couple o’ tenants off.”

“Huh… My real estate agent did mention something like that,” you admitted, starting to feel an irrational spark of apprehension. “What kind of things did they see?”

“Well… I don’t wanna scare you away,” he grumbled, scratching at his salt-and-pepper beard.

“I promise you won’t. I really like where I’m at right now. I’m just…curious, I guess.”

Earl seemed to consider it for a moment before giving in.

“Alright,” he sighed. “But for the record, I don’t believe any of the silly nonsense some folks ‘round here like to gossip about. This is a quiet town – a safe town. The only dangerous thing about this place is Mary Jo’s strawberry rhubarb pie down at the soda shop – I swear those things are the reason I got diabetes.”

You chuckled at Earl, and he gave you a warm smile before leaning towards you over the counter, propping himself up on his elbow.

“So, anyways, back to your house,” he started. “The last people there were this younger couple. They were nice kids – had just gotten hitched. But after a few weeks, they said they started noticin’ howls at night. Now, that’s normal for this area; we’ve got some wolves. But these howls were close, so loud that it woke em’ up most nights.

“Then, they started seeing people walking around the property around midnight. It coulda’ been that they were smokin’ some stuff they shouldn’a been smokin’, but they swore up and down that they saw naked men traipsin’ around. One time, there was one on their back porch, and the husband ran out to chase him off, but as quick as they saw him, he vanished.

“Again, I don’t know if I believe all of that junk,” Earl huffed. “But… the old lady who lived there before the couple said the same thing before she passed away, god rest her soul. And ol’ Lizzy didn’t lie about this sorta thing.”

You made a quiet hum of contemplation, nodding.

“Well,” you eventually spoke, “if I see any naked men hanging around, I have my handy dandy taser.”

A wide grin broke out over the older man’s face, and he reached over the counter to cuff your shoulder.

“Thata girl,” he chuckled. “I like it. And if you do see people hangin’ around on your property, give me a call, ok?” He fumbled around for a business card, eventually opening the cash register and pulling one out. “Call the bottom number if anyone gives you trouble, ok? I know I’m not the most intimidating guy around, but I keep a shotgun at the house just in case. And if the wolves become a problem, call the police. They’ll send some guys over from animal control to chase ‘em off.”

“Thanks, Earl,” you smiled, tucking the card into your wallet. “Oh, and before I forget, do you have any stationary? Letter writing paper, colored pens, that sort of thing?”

“I’m afraid we don’t. Oh, but Greg and Lou would probably have some. Try their art supply store; it’s right around the corner on the left side o’ the road.”

With that, you thanked Earl and walked out, clutching your paper bag of novels to your chest. You had to admit that the idea of wolves on your property was starting to scare you, but the thought of a naked guy just hanging out in the woods was enough to make you laugh to yourself. Even if it was true, you’d dealt with weirdos before. If that was the worst of your problems, then you’d be a happy camper.

You followed Earl’s instructions and immediately spotted a quaint store with a sign over the door reading “The Brushstroke”. Upon walking inside, you were greeted by the smell of paper and ink, and papier mache mobiles were hanging from the ceiling every few feet, dancing in the breeze that had flown in after you opened the door. Two men were standing behind the counter, sipping from steaming mugs of tea, and their heads popped up as you walked in.

“Hey, there!” one of them called, giving you a wave. “Welcome; come on in.”

“Hello,” you replied with a smile.

“We haven’t seen you around before,” the other man remarked, a kind smile on his face. “You wouldn’t happen to be the new girl in town, would you?”

“Word spreads quickly, I guess.”

“It does when you live in a town like this,” he nodded. “I’m Lou, by the way. And this is my husband Greg.”

Greg nodded in greeting, and you gave them a wide smile.

“It’s nice to meet you guys.”

“Likewise, hon. Can we help you find anything?”

You told them what you were looking for, and they instructed you towards the back of the store, where you found a wall filled with rows of neat packets of paper right next to a cubby of pens of all types and colors. You took your time in making your selections, not even noticing the door of the shop opening and closing; it was only when you heard Greg and Lou’s quiet conversation come to an abrupt halt that you glanced around the corner to see what was going on.

Your eyes widened when you saw the man standing in front of the counter; he was tall, maybe a few inches over six foot, and built like a tank. A thick, well-groomed beard adorned his face, and his hair was on the longer side, curling just past his ears in thick, easy waves. Despite the chilly weather outside, he was only dressed in a blue long-sleeved t-shirt and jeans, and you watched his biceps bulge under the fabric as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“…Steve,” Greg finally said. “Long time no see.”

The man – Steve, evidently – nodded his head as he approached the counter.

“Wh-what can we do for you?” Lou asked, seeming to shrink back as he walked towards them.

“I need a new sketchbook,” Steve mumbled, almost too quietly for you to hear. His voice was deep, resonating, and something about its gravelly edge made goosebumps rise up over your arms.

“You know where to find ‘em,” Greg stated after clearing his throat. “Just get whatever you need and go.”

It looked as if Steve was about to say something, but after a pause, he just nodded, ducking his head and turning directly towards you. You stiffened as he grew nearer, feeling an unexplainable urge to turn and run away from him, but then his eyes met yours, and you were frozen in place.

Blue irises stared directly into you, and you watched as surprise washed over his features. His nostrils flared as he took a deep breath in through his nose, and you swore that you saw his pupils dilate as he looked you up and down. When his gaze finally met yours again, and you stumbled back a step, stunned at the look on his face. It was as if he knew you.

But that couldn’t be; you’d never seen this man before. If you had, you definitely would’ve remembered him.

“I-I…” you stuttered. “I’m sorry.”

You weren’t sure what you were apologizing for, but all of a sudden you were broken out of your strange stupor. Fixing your eyes firmly on the floor, you turned and blindly grabbed the first stack of papers that your extended hand came in contact with. You did the same with the pens, grabbing a random pack before turning on your heel and heading towards the front.

Or, rather, heading directly into a broad, firm chest. You hadn’t heard any footsteps, but while your back was turned Steve had apparently stalked up behind you, and now you were so close that you could smell the distinct scent of pine wafting off of him. Pine and…something else, something musky. It made your mouth water and your eyes flutter shut, and you could have sworn that you heard a deep growl sound from his chest.

The noise startled you so badly that you dropped everything, even your paper bag from Earl’s, and you felt as if your entire body was trembling as you turned away. On unsteady feet, you walked back to the front, glancing at Greg and Lou out of the corner of your eye as you headed towards the door. Lou was watching you with a concerned expression painted across his face, but Greg was still staring Steve down, as if he were sizing him up.

The cold, early-spring wind hit you square in the face once you exited the store, and it sobered you up enough to cease your nervous trembling. There was still a sense of blind panic, though, a deep-seated fear that drove you to march over to your car without turning back.

As you peeled out of your parking space and sped towards your home, you slowly began to calm down, taking slow, even breaths to slow the frantic beating of your heart. As you put more and more distance between you and the mysterious man from the art store, you found that, even later on when you were safe in your home, you still couldn’t rationalize why you’d felt the way you had. And that evening, when you were getting ready to go to bed, you couldn’t help but feel like you were being watched.

Typically, you kept the curtains in your bedroom open, enjoying the sight of the forest laying just beyond the panes of glass. But tonight, before going to bed, you drew them shut before burrowing under the covers, hiding away from the lingering, unexplainable dread that had followed you home that day.

____________

You weren’t sure what had woken you. When you jolted out of your slumber, you were laying sprawled out over your mattress, your sheets tangled around your ankles. Everything was quiet, unsettlingly so. It was as if your cottage was holding its breath, waiting for something horrible to happen. The world was black beyond your windows, and the clock on your bedside table read 3:42 in the morni-

Wait.

The lingering tendrils of sleep within your brain melted away as you bolted upright, your wide eyes focused on your windows and the curtains that were neatly pulled away from them. Your heart was pounding in your ears as you slowly, deliberately, stood up from your bed, reaching for your phone blindly as you kept your eyes on the windows.

You drew the curtains closed as your thumb hovered over the emergency call button, and you gulped before turning towards your open bedroom door.

“H-hello?” you called out, voice still thick with sleep.

There was no answer, and you took a deep breath before stepping out into the living room. You were relieved to find nothing out of place; the kitchen, as well, was in perfect order, as was your tiny bathroom. You grew bolder as you searched your house, checking underneath your bed and inside of your wardrobe, but still you found nothing.

Eventually, you sauntered over to your back door, and that’s when you smelled it. Smelled him. The same scent that had flooded your senses back at the bookstore was thick in the air right next to the backdoor. You blinked rapidly, feeling a stirring in your gut as you inhaled it, and you gulped as you faced the door.

“…Steve?” you murmured, suddenly unable to make a sound any louder than a whisper.

Without realizing what you were doing, your hand came up to the doorknob, tracing the curve of it with your thumb. A tiny, experimental twist revealed that it wasn’t locked, and a small voice in the back of your head supplied that it was sure you’d locked it before going to sleep.

One more twist, and the door popped open, goosebumps rising up over your skin as the night air rushed over you. You turned on the porch light with a flick of your fingers and stepped out, wincing when the floorboards creaked under your feet. You half expected to see a naked man standing there just as Earl had said, but there was nobody.

You let out a shaky laugh, leaning against the doorway as your eyes flitted over the forest. You felt silly, getting all paranoid for no reason. With a small, sheepish smile, you straightened up and turned to head back inside, eager to climb back under your warm sheets and forget about the whole thing.

But that was when you saw it.

You stopped in your tracks and sucked in a deep breath as the wolf sauntered out from the tree line, its eyes focused directly on you just as yours were focused on it. Its fur was sandy and mottled with streaks of light brown and creamy white, and in the dim light you thought that you caught a flash of blue in its eyes. You took a step backwards as that same smell washed over you, and for a short, fleeting moment, you thought that there was something familiar about the beast.

It took another step towards you, and that was when you realized how massive it was. You’d seen pictures of wolves on the internet; you knew how big they were supposed to be compared to people. But this was another thing completely; this wolf looked to be the size of a grizzly bear, and you knew that if it were to stand up on its two hind legs, it would tower over you.

Abruptly, you broke out of your paralysis, blinking rapidly as you turned back towards your door. You heard a growl from behind you, but you ignored it as you fled back into your house, slamming the door shut and turning the lock back into place. A thud sounded on its other side, followed by the scratching of claws against wood.

You waited several moments, silently begging the animal to stop, but the thumping only carried on, accompanied by muted, distressed whining. Taking a deep breath, you turned to your phone, punching in ‘911’ and holding the device up to your ear.

“911, where is your emergency?”

“U-um… I-I’m at 432 Nottington Lane. Please, there’s this, this wolf outside and it’s trying to get it, and…”

As you spoke, the noises suddenly stopped. You paused, frowning at the door and straining your ears. But everything had once more gone silent.

“Hello, ma’am? Ma’am, are you still there?”

“Yeah… Yeah, I’m still here. Um… I think it’s gone now. It’s… Yeah, it’s gone. I’m really sorry to bother you guys. Just, uh… Just ignore this call, please. I’m sorry.”

You hung up and set your phone down on the kitchen counter, staring hard at your back door.

“…Shit.”

_______________

You didn’t close your curtains again after that night. You told yourself it was because there was no reason to, that you had nothing to hide yourself from. But, in the back of your mind, you knew that it was because you were too afraid of waking up with them open of someone else’s accord.

Two days went by with no further incident. You kept up with your little routine, throwing yourself into your work and acting as if you weren’t still shaken up from the ordeal. You called Earl and let him know you’d seen a wolf, just like he’d said, and the two of you had laughed over the scare it had given you. But the laughter didn’t reach your eyes or your heart, and it was still hard for you to fall asleep whenever night came around.

On the third day, though, you decided that you needed to get out. Every time your eyes strayed to the forest, you felt a pinprick of anxiety, and you were desperate to forget about what had happened. And so, dressing in your most comfortable leggings and oversized sweater, you ventured out into town, stopping for breakfast at the soda shop.

Mary Jo’s Soda Shop had been open and owned by Mary Jo herself since before you were born. It was located right in the center of town, and it was the closest thing to ‘busy’ that the small township’s population could be capable of. The front porch was lined with old, worn rocking chairs, and empty planter boxes sat beneath every single window; you were sure that they’d be overflowing with petunias as the weather turned warmer.

The atmosphere was warm and cozy as you stepped inside. People of all different races and walks of life found solace under Mary’s roof, and it was clear by the easy smiles, easy laughter, and easy conversation that pervaded the dining room. A teenaged girl, who you’d later find out to be Mary Jo’s granddaughter, showed you to your table and took your order, and as you settled down into the cracked-leather seat of your booth, you found yourself finally relaxing.

It was easy to get lost in your own thoughts, especially with the dull roar of voices and the soft sounds of country music playing over the radio as background noise. You stared off into space as you sipped your orange juice, content to just zone out for a few moments and let your brain go on autopilot.

Maybe that was why it startled you so much when a man abruptly slid into the seat across from you. You were pulled out of your revelry by a dark shadow suddenly appearing in your peripheral vision, and your initial fright only deepened when you looked up to see who it was.

“Steve…”

The man from yesterday was staring you down, dressed this time in a red and black flannel. His hair, too, looked like it had been combed out, and his beard was shiny and soft-looking, as if he’d rubbed oil into it that morning.

You didn’t know what to say as he sat across from you, his fingers laced together on top of the table, and for an uncomfortably long moment, the two of you were completely silent.

“What’s your name?” he finally asked, and you arched your eyebrow at him.

“Why do you want to know?”

A muscle in his jaw ticked, and he let out a long sigh through his nose. He didn’t answer your question, and you started to shift in your seat as he continued to stare.

Finally, you told him, murmuring your name under your breath. Upon hearing it, he nodded, finally glancing up when your waitress came back to take your order. When her eyes fell onto the man seated across from you, she visibly paled, her mascara-lined eyes widening as her smile turned to a grimace.

“Mr. Rogers,” she said timidly, “my grandmother told you not to come in anymore-“

“It’ll be fine, Rosie,” he grunted. “I won’t cause any trouble; I’m just talking with (Y/N), here.”

Rosie looked over to you, and you blinked up at her, hoping your incredulity was showing through in your eyes.

“I… I’m not sure…”

Steve huffed and looked over at you, a predatory edge appearing in his visage.

“Go on,” he encouraged you. “Tell her.”

“I really don’t-“

Suddenly, his scent was flooding your senses once more, and you almost gagged on your words as you breathed it in. You wondered why Rosie didn’t seem to notice it as it washed over you, nearly suffocating in its intensity.

“I, uh…” Your voice trailed off distractedly, and Steve’s knee nudged yours under the table.

“I-it’s fine,” you finally managed to stutter, and a pleased smirk appeared over his features.

“See? Everything is fine,” he insisted. “Now, weren’t you coming to take our orders?”

Rosie hesitated, but finally she slipped a notepad out of her pocket and nodded.

“Perfect. I’ll have the sampler with crispy bacon. Eggs over easy. And, uh… a biscuit on the side,” Steve listed off.

After a moment of silence, he cleared his throat, prompting you to jump a little before telling Rosie what you would like.

“Oh! Uh… I’ll have the same,” you muttered, though you hadn’t really been planning on eating anything of the sort.

But Rosie jotted it down in her notepad, all but fleeing to the kitchen after you were done speaking.

“And I’ll take some coffee!” Steve called after her.

When it was finally just the two of you, he once again gave you his full attention, and you fought to keep your mind straight.

“I don’t…know you,” you mumbled, squeezing your eyes shut. “I don’t know you, and you’re making me uncomfortable. Please, just-“

“I really liked the nightgown you had on last night.”

Your eyes bugged open, and your head shot up to look at him. You felt your blood run cold as he watched you with that same smirk he’d worn while ordering Rosie around, and you clutched your purse tighter to yourself.

“Wh…What did you just say?”

“You heard me,” he insisted. “How are you liking living in that cottage? The last few people there-“

“What the fuck,” you interrupted. “You…you were watching me?”

He sighed at your interruption but nodded, leaning forward on his elbows.

“And you were watching me.”

“No,” you shook your head. “I never saw you, or I would’ve called the cops-“

“But you did see me,” he insisted. “While I was in my other form.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, but then understanding came over you, and you shook your head.

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered. “You mean…the wolf?”

Steve nodded, looking up when Rosie came back with his coffee. She all but slammed the cup on the table, spilling a few drops of the beverage as she poured it. After shooting him a sour glare, she turned on her heel to attend to the other tables around you, the occupants thereof starting to notice who you were sitting with. The din of voices had gone just a bit quieter as they watched him, and you were starting to realize that the entire town knew who Steve was, and judging on the locals’ reaction to him, his reputation wasn’t on the favorable side of things.

“So… Let me get this straight,” you deadpanned, watching as Steve took a sip from his steaming mug. “You’re saying that you were the wolf I saw?”

He nodded, swallowing his coffee.

“I’m among the last of my kind,” he sighed, tapping his fingers against his cup. “At least in this area of the country. But, yeah, that was me, scratching at your door. I was honestly a little hurt by your reaction-“

“You’re fucking insane.”

A scowl overtook his features, and his hands tensed as his fingers went still.

“I would really prefer it,” he growled, “if you didn’t use that sort of language with me, Omega.”

“Ome- What?” You shook your head, unable to process how insane this man really was. “Ok, I’m done here.”

You grabbed your purse and stood up from the booth, but a hand clamped down on your upper arm as you made for the front door.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Steve insisted, and you felt fear course through you at how possessive he’d just sounded. “We have a lot we need to talk about.”

“Let go of me!” You tried to pull away from him, but you might as well have been struggling against an iron chain. Steve didn’t budge as he held you in place, and a whimper escaped your throat as he began pulling you to sit next to him in the booth.

“Steve.”

Both of you froze when you heard the voice, and you looked up to see three men standing over your table, frowning at the man who still had a firm hold on you.

“Steve, let the girl go,” one of them said, and you saw Steve’s lip curl out of the corner of your eye.

“Rhodey,” he grunted. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Not long enough,” the man fired back.

For a second, you were afraid that Steve was going to ignore them, but then his grip on you disappeared. You hurriedly stood up again, backing away until you were out of arm’s reach from him. The entire restaurant was silent as everybody within held their breath, watching Rhodey and Steve stare one another down.

“This isn’t any of your business,” Steve said, and it was then that you realized you couldn’t wait there any longer. You didn’t care how it played out; you just wanted to get out of there.

And so, while everyone was distracted, you turned on your heel and slipped out, pushing past the front door, running past the rocking chairs and planter boxes, crossing the street without first looking both ways. Your heart was pounding a mile a minute, and you didn’t fully know where you were running to until you were standing in the entry way of Earl’s bookstore.

“Hey, there,” he called out to you, but his typical cheerful greeting died on his tongue when he saw your face. “What happened?”

Twenty minutes later, you and Earl were seated in his office. You’d told him everything, save for the way Steve’s scent affected you. You knew it was crazy, and you didn’t want one of your only friends in your new town to think you were as insane as your stalker.

“…Shit.”

It was the first word he’d uttered since you began telling him your tale, and he rubbed his forehead as he took in your story.

“Shit. I mean… I always knew there was something off about that Rogers boy,” he admitted. “But he’s never pulled anything like this.”

You quirked an eyebrow, glancing up at him.

“Why does everyone dislike him?” you asked. “It seems like the whole town has something against him.”

Your friend sighed and sat back in his chair, stroking his beard in thought.

“It didn’t used to be that way,” he started. “Steve, he grew up here. He was always the golden boy – never cursed, never acted disrespectful. Hell, he was a boy scout for years, and all throughout high school he was the team quarterback. He won so many games that he became a local celebrity.

“But, uh… Well. Shit hit the fan the day he turned 18.”

You frowned; you couldn’t picture the crazy, creepy man you’d just been borderline-assaulted by as a popular, polite teenager.

“What happened when he turned 18?” you asked.

Earl hesitated, wringing his hands. For a pregnant pause, he didn’t say anything, but finally he took a deep breath.

“Look, I don’t personally have anything against the guy,” he finally huffed. “But even I get the creeps when I’m around him. That boy, he was never the same after that fourth of July. Hell, the town hasn’t been the same since.”

You raised your eyebrows expectantly, and finally Earl began the story.

“Steve’s folks were a nice couple. He was their only kid, so each year, Sarah and Joseph would throw Steve this big birthday party. I’m talkin’ fireworks, barbeque, the whole nine yards. But his 18th birthday outdid them all; the whole town practically showed up for it.

“But Steve was off the entire day; I think he was sick or something. He was real sweaty, and his eyes were all…red. Like he’d been scratchin’ at ‘em. And when the fireworks started goin’ off… The boy lost it.

“It was like a flip switched in him; next thing we knew, he was takin’ off into the woods, holdin’ his head like his skull was gonna split in two. His mama went runnin’ after him, and then his pops went to get ‘em after about five minutes or so when there was no sign of them comin’ back.

“After half an hour, we went searchin’ for ‘em, and it wasn’t till dawn that we found the three of them.”

Earl took a deep breath, rubbing his eyes with a trembling hand as he recalled the memory.

“I was in the team that found his parents, and… Hon, they were butchered. The bodies, they were hardly recognizable. Big bites had been taken outta them; blood was everywhere. Another team found Steve about half a mile away, completely naked and shivering by the river.”

“Oh, my god,” you murmured. “That’s… That’s horrible.”

Your friend nodded gravely, but he wasn’t done yet.

“We all figured that it was a coyote that got ‘em,” he continued. “Or a wolf. But Steve… He was in shock, you see, so take what I’m about to say with a grain o’ salt. But all the way to the police station, he kept sayin’… He kept sayin’, ‘I didn’t mean to kill them… I didn’t mean to kill them.’

“O’ course, no one really believed him; it was clear that an animal had gotten to them, and this was Steve Rogers we were talking about. The kid had never said an unkind word to anyone. And his family got along great.

“A few years passed, and Steve was never the same, but we expected as much. Everyone was still nice to him, and he tried for a while, you know? But then Peggy moved into town.”

“Who’s Peggy?”

“She was this real nice girl – British. She moved with her family to the area. Shoot, she was a firecracker. Didn’t take any shit from nobody; the whole town fell in love with her. Including poor ol’ Stevie.

“When the two started dating, we were thrilled for ‘em. Steve was finally starting to act more like himself; you shoulda seen him. The kid was head over heels, and she was the same. About six months went by, and we really thought that they were gonna make it.

“But then…”

Earl swallowed thickly, eyes darting back up to your face before resting once again on his hands.

“Peggy was found one day in the woods, just like Steve’s parents – mauled, butchered…dead.”

“Jesus Christ…”

“No one saw or heard from Steve for years after that. The kid just vanished into thin air without warning. And so soon after Peggy’s death, well… You can imagine the rumors that started flying around about him. Five years went by, and that was when people started hearing and seeing strange things in the woods. And your cottage, it’s right by where the bodies were found; you can’t be more than a quarter of a mile from where they found Peg.

“Eventually, Steve moved back into town, though no one recognized him. He’d always been a skinny, lean kinda guy, but when he moved back, he looked like he does now. And even if he hadn’t changed so much on the outside, no one would’ve recognized the polite young man we’d all watched grow up in this new Steve. He was mean; I can’t tell you how many fights he got in at the bar, or how many times he lashed out at someone just to have an excuse to throw some punches.

“Whatever happened to his family and his girl, he’s never been the same since. And if he really believes what he told you earlier at the soda shop, then he’s finally lost his mind.”

___________

You spent the night at Earl’s house. He and his wife set up their guest bedroom for you, and as you and Sherry ate dinner, Earl called the sheriff. You listened in as he told him everything that Steve had done, including watching you the night before, and after ending the call, Earl gave you the sheriff’s number.

“He said to call him at the first sign of trouble,” Earl instructed. “And he said that he’s gonna head over to Steve’s cabin to have a nice, long talk with him. Don’t you worry; Sheriff Wilson is a tough son of a bitch, and he’s a great man. You’re in good hands with him.”

You thanked the couple profusely, and you were finally able to sleep restfully through the night, knowing that you weren’t alone. You didn’t even mind that you could hear Earl and Sherry’s snoring from all the way down the hall; you hadn’t had such a good night’s sleep in days.

The next morning, Sheriff Wilson stopped by after Sherry had served up breakfast, and you had to admit that you did feel better after talking to him.

“So I set everything straight with Steve,” Sam explained. “He said that he’d been drunk that morning at breakfast, and he admitted to saying some things that he regretted. He asked me to apologize to you on his behalf, and he said that he would stay away from you from here on out, if it would make you more comfortable.”

“I’d be more comfortable if he moved to a different country altogether, but I’ll take it,” you’d joked weakly, coaxing a laugh out of the sheriff.

“Well, I’ll run it by him the next time we see each other,” he’d chuckled. “But for now, I think you’ll be just fine.”

After helping Sherry clean up from breakfast, you reluctantly got into your car and started back to your cottage, feeling your short-lived relief start to dwindle away as you approached your home. Who’s to say that Steve would stay true to his word? And there was something about the memory of him calling you ‘omega’ that didn’t sit well with you. You had no idea what that meant, but the conviction, the possessive, commanding tone in his voice still made shivers crawl up and down your spine.

Once you stepped into your cottage, you gave each room a cursory once-over, making sure nothing was out of place before plopping down onto your couch with your laptop. You were severely behind on work, and you needed the distraction to calm your nerves.

Before you knew it, the sun was starting to slip over the horizon, and as the evening turned to night, your eyelids started drooping. You’d finally managed to catch up on work, and although it took you until 9 o’clock at night, you were back on schedule with your blog.

Finally giving in to your sleepiness, you stood up and stretched before methodically going around to each door and window, making sure that they were all closed and locked. After once more checking that Steve wasn’t hiding in your wardrobe, shower, or backyard, you relaxed and went into your bedroom, changing into a flannel pajama set before crawling into bed.

Sleep came easily to you that night, but it didn’t stay for long.

_________

It was, once again, just after 3 in the morning when you woke up, although there was something different about this time around. There was an almost electric charge to the air, and it immediately made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. You sat up in bed and looked around your room, and even though the curtains were still closed, just as you’d left them, you immediately noticed the smell.

Your hand fell onto your nightstand, blindly fumbling for your phone, but it wasn’t where you’d left it. Panic pierced through you, and you frantically reached for your charging chord, but it was no longer plugged into your cell. There was, however, something new sitting on your bedside table, and you flicked your lamp on to see clearly what it was.

Your blood went cold when you saw the paper bag from Earl’s, still filled with your new books, just as you’d left it in the art shop.

“I’d been meaning to give that back to you.”

A scream tore itself out of your lips, and your hand flew up to clap over your mouth as you turned to the man now leaning in your doorway.

Steve was watching you with an amused smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. His hair was wild, and you noticed the way his chest rose and fell with quick, uneven breaths. He looked…unhinged, and Earl’s voice started ringing in your ears, telling you all the gory details about the deaths that had followed this man through his life.

“Steve, please,” you begged, pressing your back against your headboard. “I don’t know what you want-“

“Oh, c’mon,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “You’re a smart girl; I’m sure you can put two and two together.”

With that, he pushed off of the wall and sauntered towards you, ignoring the way you trembled as he took a seat on the edge of your bed.

“I read your blog, by the way,” he remarked. “I actually liked it; you’ve got a talent with writing.”

You gulped, not sure what to say as he turned to face you. For a moment, something flashed through his eyes, something other than the smug cynicism that usually dwelled there, but he looked away before you could get a good look at it.

“I’m sure Earl told you a lot of things about me,” he murmured. “And I’m sorry that’s how you had to hear them. But I’m not… I don’t want to hurt you. Honestly.”

“Wow, that really puts me at ease,” you grumbled. “It definitely makes the fact that you’ve broken into my house twice now totally ok.”

Steve huffed, and annoyance crossed his handsome features.

“Careful, omega,” he grunted. “I’m trying to be nice, here.”

You wanted to snap at him that he should really try harder, then, but you kept your mouth shut, knowing that you didn’t want to anger him if you didn’t have to.

“…Why do you keep calling me that?” you instead asked, and the fire in his gaze cooled just a bit.

“…I’ve given this a lot of thought,” he finally sighed. “And I can understand why this all sounds so crazy; if I were in your situation, I would probably think the same thing. But just… hear me out, ok? I’m going to tell you everything I know.”

You nodded, hugging your knees to your chest, and after another deep breath he began.

“I used to be normal, or so I thought,” he began. “I used to be like you; I didn’t know what was out there. I didn’t know that certain legends that we’ve all learned to accept as fiction were actually based on fact. But that all changed on my 18th birthday.

“That was the day that I first turned into a wolf.” Steve paused, looking pained for a moment, but after swallowing thickly he continued. “I had no clue what was happening to me. I just felt…wrong, like I was being torn apart from the inside. I fought to keep control of myself, but… I couldn’t keep it in anymore.

“People got hurt; I’m sure you’ve been told all the gritty details. But that wasn’t… It wasn’t me. I tried so hard, so goddamn hard, to keep it inside, bottled up, but eventually I couldn’t hold back anymore. And that was when I left.

“I went looking for people like me. It took me a while, but eventually I found a small group of them in New York. They called themselves the Howling Commandos.”

Steve laughed, shaking his head.

“Not the name I would’ve chosen, but they were good people. They helped me control it, taught me how to remain myself even when I’m in my other form. And I learned more about what it means to be a, uh…

“Werewolf.”

You bit your lip, staring at him as you grew even more fearful; he believed this. You could tell by the way his eyes were glistening with barely-contained tears, and if you weren’t so terrified of him, you would feel sorry for how sad he looked.

“Steve, you… you must realize that this is hard for me to believe, right? I mean… This isn’t Twilight; this is the real world.”

He rolled his eyes at the mention of that book.

“There’s about a thousand things wrong with that fucking story, and I’ll die mad about it,” he muttered under his breath, and you hugged yourself tighter as he stood up.

“You want me to prove it to you? Fine.”

Steve stood still for a long moment, closing his eyes, and you found your gaze straying to the door behind his back. He was distracted, evidently focused on transforming into a fucking wolf, oblivious to you as you slowly moved to set your feet on the floor.

Now is your moment, your brain whispered, and after taking a deep breath, you leapt to your feet. You didn’t notice the way his skin was slowly starting to grow patches of blonde fur, nor did you register that his voice had become more of an animalistic growl as he realized that you were trying to run. You were solely focused on making it out alive.

The back door was closer to you than the front, and you could practically feel Steve’s breath on the back of your neck as he gave chase, and so you nearly yanked the door off of its rusty, old hinges as you went flying out onto the back porch. You just barely managed to close the door behind you, and right before it slammed shut, you were able to make out an open maw filled with sharp teeth. The same thumping you’d heard several nights ago sounded from within your home, but with the way the wood was creaking and splintering, you knew it wouldn’t keep Steve trapped inside for long.

You began to run towards your car, but with a curse you realized that your keys were still resting on your coffee table inside the cottage, and you wouldn’t go back inside there if someone offered you a million dollars to. So, fully aware of what a terrible idea it was, you started running down the length of your gravel driveway, the small stones and twigs digging into your feet until you felt them starting to grow slick with blood.

You didn’t get far at all before you heard the sound of a low, deep howl split the silence of the night, and you pumped your legs even faster when you heard heavy footfalls starting to give chase behind you. Frantically, you turned and made a beeline for the forest, hoping to lose him in the woods. Low branches and brambles clawed at your face, and the cuts on your feet burned so bad that tears started rolling down your cheeks.

It was simultaneously an eternity and a millisecond before you felt a massive weight crash into you from behind, and with a cry you fell onto your belly. Your arms and legs scrambled about as you tried to crawl away, but you stopped with another scream when a set of impossibly sharp teeth nipped at your shoulder. Even though they didn’t cut deep, it was still enough to scare you into submission, and you immediately went still as your captor panted above you.

Your chest rose and fell as you fought to catch your breath, but it felt as if your heart had stopped beating entirely when you chanced a look to your right and saw…a paw. A huge, sandy-blonde paw about the size of your head was planted in the mud right next to your neck. You turned, and on your left side was the same thing.

Slowly, you rolled over onto your back, and you found yourself face to face with the wolf from before, only this time, you were close enough to see its blue eyes clearly – Steve’s eyes.

“…Steve?” you breathed.

Before your disbelieving eyes, the animal hovering over you started to shift and change, morphing gradually back into the man who’d terrorized you so much up to this point. Except now, as he straddled your hips, completely nude, you knew that he’d been right all along.

“Still think I’m crazy?” he panted, still out of breath from the chase.

“I… How…”

“I tried to tell you,” he grumbled, leaning down. You squirmed when you felt him press his nose to your neck, nuzzling it as he inhaled deeply, and you whimpered when his cock twitched against your thigh. “God, you have no idea what your scent does to me.”

You made a small noise of protest when his tongue darted out, laving over a spot right under your jaw.

“I thought it was too good to be true, you know,” he groaned, and you let out a noise that was dangerously close to a moan as you realized you could smell him once again. “I thought that people had to be a werewolf to be an alpha or an omega, but as soon as I smelled you in the art shop… Fuck, I knew you were mine.”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tried to protest, but you were silenced when Steve nipped at your neck.

“We both know that’s not true,” he chided. “We both know what my scent does to you.”

Steve dragged his teeth down the side of your neck, and you shivered at the sensation. You wanted to fight this; you didn’t want to give in to him. But something inside of you refused to do anything but lay there beneath him, panting as he tasted your skin.

“I’ve never been with an omega before,” he confessed. “The Commandos told me they were incredibly rare, a dying breed just like me. But fate must have brought us together for a reason.”

“I’m… I’m not an omega,” you insisted, but a soft mewl fell out of your lips when he ground his hips forward, the line of his cock sliding up the length of your clothed pussy.

“Then why do you have a mating gland?” he rasped, his tongue darting out to lick at a spot on your neck.

“A what?” you squeaked, but suddenly his hands were on your hips, flipping you over onto your hands and knees. His palms groped your ass, and suddenly you felt your pajamas being pulled down until they pooled around your knees.

“I can’t wait any longer,” Steve growled.

No, no, no. Your thoughts were swirling rapidly as Steve’s fingers slid down your spine. You didn’t want this; you weren’t an omega; Steve was crazy.

Why does your body want this so bad?

You couldn’t find the strength to try and crawl away when Steve’s hands left you, but your eyes widened when he suddenly spread your legs wider apart. The cold night air was icy against your cunt and your thighs, and when the warmth of his hands finally returned to your body, you couldn’t hold in your moan.

“That’s right, omega,” he panted, his hand reaching down to cup your pussy. “Fuck, you’re so wet; it’s already dripping down your thighs…”

Your pussy made an embarrassingly loud squelching noise as he pushed his finger inside, and your body’s reaction started drowning out your brain. As he thrust his finger in and out, your hips started pushing back against him as white noise echoed in your ears.

“Mmm,” you whined, clenching your teeth. “M-more, fuck-“

“More?” Steve cooed. “You want more?”

You nodded your head, and a gasp parted your lips as he added another finger, curling it in a way that had you seeing stars. Your legs spread wider, and you dropped to your elbows, pushing back in time with his hand.

“This is what you need,” he growled. “You need your alpha to take care of you, don’t you? To use your pretty little cunt and fill you up with my seed. Ain’t that right, doll?”

“Y-yes,” you moaned, feeling your walls start to flutter around him.

All too soon, though, he pulled his hand away, leaving you hanging on the precipice of your orgasm. You burrowed your face into your arms and whined at the loss, but a few seconds later, Steve was gripping your hips. You could feel his fully hard length against your ass, and your breath caught in your throat upon feeling how big it was.

“W-wait-“

Steve shushed you, tangling one of his hands in your hair as the tip of his cock glided through your folds, brushing against your clit.

“It’s ok, omega,” he whispered. “Just lay back and take it.”

With that, his head pressed against your entrance, and your lips parted in a silent scream as he impaled you. Your cervix ached as his dick pressed against it, and you were vaguely aware of the broken moans falling out of your lips.

“Fuck, doll,” your alpha breathed, and you felt him rest his forehead against your shoulder. “Feels so good, so fucking good. My good girl…”

You groaned when he drew his hips back and thrust forward again, jarring your whole body with the movement. Your teeth clenched together as he found his rhythm, the initial stretch still burning. You’d never felt anything like this before, and the pain was mixing with your pleasure until you couldn’t tell one from the other.

Slowly, as the minutes went by, your abused cunt started to adjust, and your moans became less and less strained as you once more felt pleasure start to crest within you.

“That’s it,” Steve praised, pushing your hair away so he could press a kiss to the side of your neck. “Just relax; let your alpha make you feel good.”

You whimpered as he started thrusting faster, his hips snapping as deep, gravelly growls spilled out of his throat. Your own moans filled the air as you once again felt your orgasm build up inside of you. Your pussy walls contracted and fluttered as you got closer and closer, and Steve’s hand came down hard on your ass.

“Go ahead, omega,” he commanded. “Cum for me; don’t hold back. Give it to me; let me feel it. Cum for me-“

With a wail, your body did as it was commanded, and you trembled as you reached your climax. Your cunt squeezed his cock as he slowed his thrusts, and your hips moved of their own accord as you rode it out. Quiet, hoarse moans were still trailing out of your mouth as you came down from your high, and Steve’s beard tickled your skin as he pressed kisses along the curve of your shoulder.

“Good girl,” he praised, and you were sickened to realize that you enjoyed his words of encouragement.

You were surprised when he pulled his cock out of you, and you allowed him to flip you over onto your back. His cheeks were flushed, and he was panting, and your eyes trailed down to see his cock still painfully hard.

Without warning, he shoved it back inside of you, and your hands flew up, digging your nails into his back as he once again started thrusting at a brutal pace.

“’M gonna fill your fucking pussy up,” he was moaning, his hair falling into his eyes while his mouth hung open. “Gonna breed you like the little bitch you are-“

Despite having just cum, shocks of pleasure spread through you as he filled you, and in this position, you could watch his muscles bulge and flex as he chased his release. His eyes were squeezed shut, and one of his hands was pawing and kneading at your breast as he used the other to support his weight. The veins in his neck throbbed as he grew closer and closer, and you were taken off guard to find that you were approaching your second climax with him.

“You already gonna cum again, baby?” he whispered. “Do it. Give it to me; I want it.”

You closed your eyes and arched up, frenzied moans of yes, please, God, more, I need more, spilling past your lips almost unintelligibly. You were so close – just a little more and you would be pushed over the edge.

Just before you could reach it, though, Steve’s eyes snapped open, focusing on your neck hungrily. You should have felt fear, knowing what he was, what had happened to his parent and his last lover. But instinct took over, and you found yourself tilting your head back, baring your neck to him in a sign of submission.

With a feral growl, he lunged forward, and you shrieked as his teeth pierced your skin, right where he’d claimed earlier your ‘mating gland’ was. You closed your eyes, expecting to feel your life fade away, ready to see blood spurting up from the wound. But that never happened; no, instead you felt as if you’d just been electrified. Every sensation you were feeling was suddenly amplified tenfold, and your vision went black as you came for the second time.

Your ears were ringing, but you were still able to hear the primal roar that Steve let out as he came, painting your inner walls with his seed as hips finally slowed to a stop. For several long seconds, the two of you were perfectly still save for your chests as they rose and fell with your heavy breathing. Steve’s cock began to soften inside of you, but he made no move to pull away. No, instead he collapsed over you, his head resting against your chest as his heated skin shielded you from the cold air.

“You were perfect,” you heard him whisper, and one of his fingers came up to trace the bite mark he’d left behind on your neck. “Your bond scar is gonna be so gorgeous, little omega.”

Sleep threatened to overtake you as you lay there, not truly processing Steve’s words as his weight atop you lulled you towards sleep.

“Go ahead and rest, doll,” he murmured. “I’ll carry you back home, and then we can go again. Don’t worry, doll; I won’t stop until you’re nice and round with my babies.”

You should have felt scared – you should have pulled away and ran into the woods. But instead, you let out a content noise of acknowledgement before doing just as he said. The last thing you registered before slipping into a deep, dreamless slumber was his arms as they wrapped around you and picked you up, carrying you away from the road and into the forest.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #dark!steve rogers x reader #werewolf #werewolf!steve #alpha!steve #omega!reader #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o au #werewolf au

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dyklopces · 4 years ago

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*pays u attention* hiiii I only go here(here being pjo) for the valzhang . Feel free 2 use this ask as a hc dump :}

lee i owe you my first born

it doesn't take leo long to say he's in love . if he makes eye contact with someone and then they smile at him ?? game over . he tells everyone he knows that he's found The One

this being said . when he sees Frank for the first time . he doesn't feel any romantic attraction

mostly cause Frank thinks he's annoying and talks 2 much . also yknow Fire Powers and franks life force being dependent on a piece of firewood

frank is seemingly the exact opposite . he falls in like a lot slower (demi Frank rights) so when he meets Leo his first thought is "why is this tiny person screaming "

don't get me wrong . Leo thinks frank is Beautiful but like , not anything to ride home about . so what if he can nail a bullseye from 100 yards and turn into a lion . Leo doesn't think he's cool or scientifically interesting or kind of funny in that weird dry way grandmas are at all, shut up

I cant remember the books plots exactly cause i haven't read them in years but like , over time as they almost die together for the millionth time , they start to trust each other instinctually. they talk to each other now , and joke around

side note, when leo makes frank laugh for the first time , he has to almost immediately run away to piper to talk thru how he APPARENTLY has a crush !! how . when did this happen . piper why are u laughing

(she tells him that she's the daughter of love and she knew from the start and leo almost lights her room completely on fire from how embarrassed he gets )

the more leo talks it thru the more he's like. oh he thinks im annoying huh . im in way too deep now ! shit !!! he hates me and im in love with him !!!!!! why do the gods hate me piper . im too sexy for this help

she comforts him cause like , she knows frank genuinely doesn't like him rn . she has Vibes but romantically speaking she knows that atm it's one sided

frank , having been Abandoned , talks 2 Hazel for a bit (they are best friends ) and is like . is this what having friends My Age is ? laughing and leaving and nearly dying ?? huh . wild.

leo decides to be himself about the whole situation and Ignore It . it is fine he is fine he's just in love with someone who hates him . he is Okay and Stable and Normal and Not Upset About Anything , Hazel , Why Do You Keep Asking .

this goes on for a few weeks and franks confused cause whenever he makes a joke leo laughs really hard and then says he has "Very important and Shipley duties to attend to . not crashing and such . bye"

and then . Leo gets sucked up or whatever and is on calypsos island for a week .

in my world they're found family and LOVE EACH OTHER , thank you very much , so they all are desperately searching for him everywhere they can think, and Jason says "he's nowhere .. " cause Jason is a repressed emo and percys like hm . Well

frank, being Distinctly upset, immediately sees when percy puts the pieces together, demands he explains . so he does , and as upset as everyone is, they decide to try and help stop the end of the world or whatever.

leo has been having a Week on calypso Island . no one's looking for him, the only human company he has hates his fucjking guts , he has no way out . its literally His Personal Hell and he spends it damning every god he can think of cause like . what are they gonna do . put him on an island where he's functionally alone and can never get off and none of his friends even care ?

as is in canon, he and calypso reluctantly bond over lost loves and dead moms or whatever I can't remember .

eventually, he tells her about Frank, and how Frank could never like him like that, let alone love him.

calypso laughs in his face .

"first of all, I bet 100 drachmas he's in love with you too . second of all . so what . I would kill to have friends like that."

this time, when he promises to find a way off the island for her, she says "Good luck with your boy, boy. May the gods be on your side"

when leo shows back up on argo II everyone's like :-D !!!! LEO !!!!!!! and piper has to Hold frank back from tackling leo in excitement . they just hug rly hard :-) (BTW at this point she knows it's requited and if she weren't so thankful leo was back safe she'd pull his ear and call him stupid)

in the final battle , yes I am skipping ahead my hands hurt , Frank gives leo his firewood and says "don't be stupid, leo . people love you . " Which is as good as a confession you're gonna get before you almost certainly die

when leo Does die, frank goes fucking insane .

he doesn't leave his cabin at the roman camp for a week and when he does, he spends all his time at the archery range . he doesn't talk to anyone but Hazel.

he and annabeth have a conversation about losing someone before you can say you love them , but he barely responds cause like . percy came back . Leo won't.

about a month passes like this , and eventually he goes to chb to pray to hades / Pluto whatever who cares, ans be like . treat him well.

leo then shows up out of the sky, on a Dragon, carrying a Random Girl who immediately hugs leo, punches percy on the arm then hugs him too, and frank faints like the KING he is

when he wakes up in the infirmary, leo is at his bedside, still w the random girl, holding a cup of nectar . he hands it to frank and starts rambling nervously, explaining where he was for the past month and apologising

frank just . grabs his hand . says "I told you to not be stupid."

leo then reaches into his belt and pulls out the firewood

they confess and kiss :-)

#frankie fucks about #tree lee #FUCKING HELL TURNS OUT I HAVE A LOT 2 SAY ABOUT VALZHANG SKDHSJD #valzhang #long post #fraleo #pjo #IF THERE ARE ANY TYPOS . NO THERES NOT

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a-tiny-atiny · 3 years ago

Text

I Get Deja Vu

Have you ever felt yourself falling in love? In a way, have you felt it physically manifest itself? Has your world ever felt like it’s suddenly gotten brighter and you wake up every morning excited to see that one special person in your life who made you feel that way?

Because Mingi has. In fact, he feels it stronger and stronger every day. All because of one person: Jung Wooyoung.

Mingi is a loser.

Okay, he can practically hear his friends screaming at him for even thinking that, but it’s how he truly feels. He used to have higher self-esteem when he was a kid, but it’s long gone now. He used to feel pretty neutrally about himself (maybe even a little confident), but that all changed when a classmate of his came up to him at the playground when he was nine and pointed out his small eyes and crooked teeth, and everyone else laughed.

He never thought about those parts of his face before. He really never looked at himself for more than a few minutes in the mirror while conducting his daily routine before school and before bed, but it made him wonder if he should have spent that time looking at himself more carefully.

When he thought about it, his eyes were smaller than the other kids’. He didn’t think it was a bad thing before, everyone in his family has smaller eyes, but since his classmate pointed it out and everyone laughed, it must be a bad thing. Same with his teeth.

He still looks in the mirror every morning and inspects his small eyes and crooked teeth as though staring at them for long enough will cause them to “fix” themselves into something more conventionally attractive. He doubts the classmate on the playground even remembers saying that (or remembers Mingi at all), but Mingi definitely does. It hasn’t left his mind since the day it occurred.

His best friends at the time, Yunho and Wooyoung were there to reassure him that there was nothing wrong with his appearance. “Some kids say I have weird cheeks,” he remembers a seven-year-old Yunho saying, “but my mom thinks they’re cute so I don’t really care.” Wooyoung offered a somewhat different but still comforting sentiment about the kid being a “butt-face” and a “stupid idiot,” which admittedly helped cheer Mingi up a lot.

Middle school was when a lot changed for Mingi.

On his very first day of middle school, he awoke to find his skin red and blotchy, the first sign of his to-be consistent acne problem. He was covering his face when he walked into the building, so Yunho and Wooyoung didn’t even see him at first. When they finally did, they scolded him for being dramatic and promised that no one would care if his face was a little blotchy that day.

Wooyoung seemed to have been blessed with perfect skin, because he never had a single breakout throughout middle school. Maybe he’d get a pimple here and there that he would cover with some of his mom’s foundation, but that was it. Yunho had a bit of acne too, but his parents could afford the expensive creams that made it go away instantly while Mingi’s family didn’t have the time or the money for that.

Throughout his experience in middle school, Mingi noticed three key differences in his life there than in elementary school: 1) Unlike in elementary school, it did matter what you wore.

The fact that he only had a few good shirts that were usually either a size too big or a size too small and only a few pairs of baggy jeans didn’t matter in elementary school. He could wear the same shirt and pants every day and the kids probably wouldn’t notice. In middle school, they definitely did notice.

In only his second week there, someone in his class asked why he was wearing the same shirt he wore just last week, which caught him by surprise. Was that a bad thing? He owns a laundry machine, it’s not like he’s wearing a mud-covered, dirty t-shirt or something. But his choice (or lacks thereof) in clothing brought several confused and sometimes even disgusted looks from his classmates.

This leads us to point 2) Being funny wasn’t enough to be well-liked. Admittedly, Mingi thought of his humor as basically his only talent. He’s just a pretty loud and outgoing person, so that earned him a lot of friends back in elementary school. In middle school, he was labeled the “class clown” and was viewed as a troublemaker by most of the kids, which made people want to stay away from him.

Even to this day, Mingi has a hard time being open with his thoughts and feelings because he’s worried he’ll come off as obnoxious and rude, even when he isn’t trying to be.

And finally point 3) Middle school is a lot bigger than elementary school. Normally, this wouldn’t really matter. Mingi was actually really excited at first when he heard the middle school had multiple floors that he could race to be the first one to climb. The only problem is that with a bigger school, there are more classes, and more classes mean less of a chance of him being with his friends (i.e. only Yunho and Wooyoung).

He ended up having most of his classes with Yunho but hardly any with Wooyoung except for when they could sit together at lunch.

Because of this, Mingi and Wooyoung started to drift apart a bit. Wooyoung even made a new friend named Yeosang, who Mingi genuinely liked but was afraid would replace him as Wooyoung’s best friend. Thankfully, this is not what ended up happening and all that occurred was Yeosang being added into the friend group with open arms by all parties.

It was then that Mingi started noticing something…strange.

He would get a tiny pang in his chest when Wooyoung was overly-friendly with any of the members of the friend group. This feeling didn’t occur with Yunho or Yeosang, only Wooyoung. At first, Mingi thought it was probably the feeling of missing Wooyoung because they didn’t have many classes together that year.

Mingi didn’t know what to do with this feeling. He just let it be at first because it wasn’t really bothering him that much, it was just strange. But as the years went on, it got stronger and stronger until Mingi couldn’t ignore it anymore.

In addition to this weird pang in his chest, he also started to feel a weird feeling in his stomach, kind of like when you’re at the top of a roller coaster and it’s just about to drop. That’s the kind of feeling he started to get when Wooyoung started to get, well…hot.

In high school, all four boys started to grow into their features more, but it was most evident in Wooyoung. Yeosang looked quite handsome too, but that wasn’t much of a change from middle school because he always kind of looked like a Greek god in Mingi’s eyes. Wooyoung, however, he was friends with since childhood and never really registered his features as anything other than “Wooyoung” until now. Now, they were registering as “hot.”

And that’s when Mingi started to get a feeling that something was…off. He wasn’t sure what and he wasn’t sure why, but he had never really been good with feelings to begin with so it made sense to him that it didn’t really make sense. Does that make sense?

“No,” Yunho said when Mingi tried explaining this predicament to him. “You’re going to have to give me more to work with, Mingi-yah. Maybe you miss him because you haven’t been spending as much time with him? You can text him and ask him to hang out.”

The very thought gave Mingi that weird feeling in his stomach again. He groaned and said, “Whatever, it probably isn’t a big deal anyway.” So, Yunho let it slide and so did Mingi for a while. Even if he got that weird feeling in his stomach, he just tried to ignore it.

He ignored it all the way until it became time to submit college applications.

That led Mingi to let another roadblock in the path of being a loser: he wasn’t really that good at anything in particular. His grades were fine, admittedly a bit below average, but not terrible. But they certainly weren’t enough to get into any university that Yunho, Wooyoung, and Yeosang were planning on going to, which was his main concern.

The only good part of Mingi’s life was his friends. His life basically revolved around them, and it still does, so not being able to go to the same college as them was a terrifying thought. Which is why Mingi started studying harder than ever.

“Whatcha doing?” Wooyoung asked one day after noticing Mingi in the library after school. This was very unlike him because anyone who knows Mingi knows that he hated school and always wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible.

Mingi jumped, seemingly not having noticed Wooyoung there before. “Oh! Um, just studying. You know, college stuff,” he explained clumsily. Why did he feel so nervous? It’s just Wooyoung, the same Wooyoung he’s known for his entire life.

“Studying? Since when did you study?” Wooyoung asked teasingly. Some people found that cheeky attitude of Wooyoung’s to be off-putting, but Mingi loved it because it fit right in with his sense of humor. That was part of the reason why they were such good friends.

“Since I needed to get into the same college you guys are going to,” Mingi said, the stress evident in his voice. This was obviously really weighing on him. “You know I can’t get into Sejong with my grades.”

Wooyoung frowned. It was true that Mingi’s grades were…on the weaker side, but he hadn’t ever considered the possibility of him not being able to get into Sejong with everyone. Going to college without Mingi was almost unthinkable. They had been together forever and Wooyoung wanted to keep it that way.

“I’ll tell you what,” Wooyoung said, taking a seat next to his friend. Mingi looked up at him with nervous eyes. To be fair, most of Wooyoung’s propositions were either very dangerous or very stupid or both. “I’ll help you study until the deadline for the application.”

Mingi’s eyes widened in shock and he was about to immediately refuse, but Wooyoung cut him off with an even more outlandish assertion: “And my parents and Yunho’s family are going to pay for your tuition.”

Now Mingi felt like sobbing, for so many reasons. Wooyoung actually wanted to help him and was willing to take time out of his incredibly busy schedule just to ensure that he had a fighting chance of going to the same university as his friends? Not to mention the fact that their families were willing to pay for his tuition? He actually felt somewhat lightheaded at the thought.

It’s true that Mingi’s parents had been relying on him getting a scholarship to be able to pay for his college education, but the chances of that occurring were seeming slimmer and slimmer when Minho’s grades failed to improve past a low B.

There were so many things he wanted to say to Wooyoung. Things like, “Are you crazy?” and, “There’s no way I can let you do that.” Maybe even, “Thank you.” But what he ended up saying instead was,

“You can’t do that.”

Instead of getting offended or even rescinding his offer (which Mingi both anticipated and feared), Wooyoung simply laughed. “Actually, I can,” he said, “and so can Yunho. You’re basically family to us and you know how much our parents like you. We’ve been saving up for this for a long time now and we were going to surprise you on your birthday, but it seemed like you needed a little extra encouragement now.”

Mingi wanted to thank Wooyoung and was practically forcing himself now to drop into a full bow, but what he did instead was equally embarrassing: he started crying. Loudly, too, and in the middle of the library.

But Wooyoung didn’t mind. He never minded. He always knew that Mingi was loud, and emotional, and a little silly, but he never minded. In fact, those were the things he was the most insecure about until Wooyoung started telling Mingi that’s what he liked most about him. He simply pulled Mingi into a hug as the boy continued to sob loudly, and stroked his back all the while.

It still isn’t exactly clear when Mingi started falling for his best friend, but if there was one moment he had to pinpoint, it would be that day in the library that he was sure he was in love with Jung Wooyoung.

#ateez #atiny #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #song mingi #mingi #jung wooyoung #jeong yunho #angst #hanahaki

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vagrantblvrd · 4 years ago

Note

how do din and luke meet in that modern au?

Oooh, so.

I don’t know why but I really like the idea of Din being the handyman at his apartment complex - gets a cut on his rent and pretty flexible schedule to take care of his tiny gremlin kid - but also?

Lends a hand at Cara’s gym or Boba’s bike shop or something and Luke comes in because his bike is acting up and he can’t figure it out?

Like, Luke’s usually pretty good about keeping his bike up to speed and stuff but there’s something wrong with it he can’t figure it out?

Din’s filling in for one of Boba’s guys, only one in when Luke pulls in and it’s like oh, no, he’s ridiculously attractive, and somehow he manages not to make a fool of himself.

He thinks Luke might be flirting with him??? There’s a lot of smiling and even some leaning, Luke in that yellow jacket of his and big old smile and pretty blue eyes leaning on the counter telling Din all about his bike woes and such with this smile like hey, what can you do, right?

Meanwhile Din’s gripping the ballpoint pen so tight the the plastic cracks - one of those clear plastic ones, name of Boba’s shop worn away from use and whatnot, and he is trying, okay, he is trying to be a professional but Luke is making it really, really hard. NO. Difficult. Luke is making it really, really difficult.

He has no idea what he writes down on the paperwork. Boba calls him up the next day trying to make sense of it and Din is like shit because for the life of him he cannot recall anything about the whole encounter aside from Luke. (Well, okay, he does once his brain kicks into gear, but when he’s talking to Boba on the phone it’s static.)

Anyway.

Luke with his big smile and pretty blue eyes and all that leaning and Din goes out to check on Luke’s bike and it’s something that needs a new part, and Luke’s bike is an older model - “It was my dad’s,” he says, this odd smile on his face, something that tells Din it’s better not to ask after that tidbit just yet - and he’ll have to order it. Should be at the shop in a day or two, and they’ll have Luke back on the roan in no time.

Because Reasons it’s not safe to drive the bike, and Boba’s shop doesn’t really do courtesy shuttle service, but Luke came in close enough to closing that Din’s sure there won’t be any more customers and Din does have his minivan, so...

And, okay, it might seem a little creepy, but also common decency since Luke mentioned being new in town and he probably doesn’t know that many people, and anyway. It would be weird to kick him out of the shop and just drive off, right????

Besides, it’s been cloudy all week and the forecasts look like they might be right for once because it feels like it’s going to be a hell of a storm, and he’d feel bad if he made Luke wait for his ride in the rain.

So Din offers to give Luke a ride home or wherever after he closes the shop, Luke tries to tell him it’s no problem, he can call a cab or a rideshare - he has a friend in town, old family friend or something but it’s kind of late and anyway, no need to go to all that trouble?

But Din insists, and it’s not like Luke’s putting up much of a fight about it, and he just hangs around while Din closes up the shop and locks up and then gets in Din’s minivan and it’s not as weird as either of them thought it would be?

They don’t really talk on the way aside from Luke offering up an address and such and Din grumbling about traffic and detours and construction. Mentions offhand to Luke about what to look out for when traffic picks up and so on.

At this point I don’t know if I like Luke staying at Obi-Wan’s place at the moment or not, but you know what would be hilarious?

If Luke gives Din his address and Din is just like ah, yes, I know exactly where that is and they zoom off in that direction only for him to have the belated realization that wait, wait. That’s my apartment complex.

But maybe that come later, you know?

A few weeks, maybe a month or two after their first meeting and Luke’s bike is acting up again and he has to bring it back into the shop and he and Din do this whole thing over again?

Only this time Luke is like, well, hot bike shop guy didn’t react badly to my flirting the first time, why not kick things up a notch? And poor Din is like oh, no, this is terrible when it’s really the exact opposite.

And maybe before he wasn’t really in the frame of mind to be looking at getting into a relationship of any kind? Busy with Grogu and work and other stuff and no real time to consider it, but things have evened out in his life and it might be nice, and then Luke walks back into his life and he’s like hmm, why not?

So double flirting and Din is pretty sure it is flirting this time - Luke did the thing when he handed his keys over, you know the one. Fingers brushing, lingering, intense eye contact and smiles - and anyway, yes.

It’s a few hours to closing, but Boba won’t mind if Din closes the shop early and Luke puts up a token protest about Din driving him home, and this time, okay, this time.

Luke gives Din his address and Din is like okay, great! And it isn’t until they’re actually on the road - the one he takes whenever he leaves Boba’s shop on his way home that he’s like, huh, and not until he’s halfway to their destination that he’s like weird.

Because last time he could have sworn Luke lived in the opposite direction, but he did say he was staying with a friend at the time, what with being new in town and all.

Still.

It’s not until he sees his the apartment complex he lives in come into view that he’s like wait, wait, wait.

His boss told him someone was moving in to one of the apartment units a week or so ago, and while he’d made note of it at the time it hadn’t come up since then.

Din stares at the apartment complex for a moment, and then looks at Luke who is all ??? at his reaction.

“You live here?” Din asks, brain no co-operating with him, so of course that’s the first thing he say.

Luke is still ??? but he’s like “Yeah, I just moved in last week. Still settling in, but it seems nice.”

Din is like. “...” because he’s convinced this is the universe playing a joke on him. (Or maybe his asshole friends, who knows.)

“Uh, yeah,” Din says, awkward as hell.

There’s a little more awkwardness before Luke starts to get out - and stops. Stares out the windshield and Din is like ??? because Luke says in an undertone, “You can do this, you’re a Skywalker,” and rips off a corner of his copy of the slip Din gave him for his keys at the shop.

Gives Din this awkward look and a little “Excuse me,” as he snags the pen in Din’s workshirt and writes his number on that bit of paper. Gives Din this crooked little smile and tips his head before it clicks that oh, oh shit. Luke’s giving him his number.

And not, you know, because of work reasons. Because his bike and Boba’s shop and just. (God, he’s a mess.)

Din takes the paper and Luke beams at him before he slips out of Din’s little minivan with a “Call me sometime!” that’s almost swallowed by the rain because rainy season and Din sits in his dumb little minivan for a long, long time after that with Luke’s number clutched in his hand and brain full of !!! because !!!.

But also, also.

Din hearing about Luke all over the place because he works with that family friend of his - Ben, something? - with some kind of youth program and he went to Cara’s gym about holding classes there or something?

Turns out he and his family friends do something with sword? Or yoga or something, Cara wasn’t clear on it, just wanted to tell him all about these weirdos and what kind of sucker did she look like? (Din rolls his eyes because he knows her, knows she said yes, and probably cut them a sweeter deal than they were expecting and anyway, anyway, he hears about Luke from her which is unexpected to say the least.

And then there’s Boba, who gets this look on his face when he realizes Dins a little moony over this guy he met, someone he met through Boba’s shop, and then it’s -

“Wait, what?”

Because Boba used to be a bounty hunter back before he settled down and opened his bike shop and Din worked with/for him a bit before Grogu came into his life and he realized he needed something steadier for the kid.

Boba’s the one to tell him about Luke being buddies with Han, and after Din sees Luke’s tattoo and hears all about his days with his biker gang back home - “It really wasn’t a biker gang, Din, really” digs up an old bounty on Luke.

Old, old, from when the whole Family Drama was going down and anyway, it was a long time ago and everything’s been cleared up and just. Don’t worry about it, okay?

Anyway, before all that there’s Luke moving a new couch into his place one day and Din on his way back from fixing someone’s sink or whatever and offers to help?

Luke is like, “Um,” because what is Din doing there?

To which Din is like, “So, i didn’t realize it at the time,but I, too, live in this apartment complex and am also the resident handyman.”

:)???

Luke just looking at him over the top of his stupidly heavy couch because what are the odds?

Din feeling a little awkward and about to scuttle on home, but Luke snorts and take Din up on his offer of help and after struggling to get it up to Luke’s place and in the door, they collapse on the couch - stupidly heavy but surprisingly comfortable.

And it’s late afternoon and Luke didn’t have time for breakfast and Din straight up skipped it getting Grogu off to to daycare. Cara’s picked him up, and she likes to keep him with her until Din calls or she leaves the gym which gives him a free afternoon, and anyway.

They order pizza and watch terrible television because they’re too damn tired to do anything else and it’s actually really nice and maybe, maybe, they kind of gravitate towards one another somewhere in there.

Dip in the couch cushions or something and leaning against one another, maybe Din’s arm goes on the back of the couch and Luke’s shoulders happen to be right there, who can say.

(Maybe, maybe, there’s this little moment when Din’s leaving because Cara texted to let him know she’s bringing Grogu back and he has to leave and Luke sees him to the door where they just kind of...look at one another.

Soft smiles and so on, and not quite at the smooching stage just yet - Din helped him move his couch, Luke fed him pizza, a date that is not - and yet?

Luke might feel a little cheeky, might dart in and press a quick little kiss to Din’s cheek and laugh at the look on his face, might say, “I had fun, we should do it again sometime,” before Din’s phone buzzes again, Cara almost to the complex and Din has to go, and Din, okay, Din is like.

“I’d like that,” and have to run even though he really doesn’t want to, wants to spend more time with Luke, but his kid, and anyway, anyway, maybe they can go on an actual date next time.

(They kind of don’t though, but that’s fine because they have a good time anyway, and they do manage to get to the smooching stage, which is just really, really nice.)

#replies #anon #star wars nonsense #dinluke #modern au idea #technichally not a fic #vagrant fic #long post #Anonymous

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izzabeean · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 8 : Restless

SUMMARY

Now that you’ve temporarily moved into Oikawa’s apartment, you feel like you need to do something in return for his and Iwaizumi’s generosity. Yet, just when things start to look up, there’s always something that brings you back down.

pairing : ushjima x f!reader / oikawa x f!reader / iwaizumi x f!reader

genre : angst + fluff

word count : 5,474

content : profanity, smoking

tags : alternate universe - college/university, post-break up, friends to lovers, pining, slow burn

a/n : a bit of a longer chapter, I'm sorry if the ending seems a bit rushed. I tried to have two perspectives in this chapter and I’m not entirely sure if I like it, but here ya go! Also I hope you like it! (Pardon my errors, I only proofread once)

Post Thursday evenings PST, if not latest by Friday.

masterlist

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“I’m thinking… Curry!” you exclaim while you begin to collect the required ingredients at the smaller grocer.

Dinner wasn’t going to be anything too elaborate or fancy, just something simple. It’s the least you could do for Oikawa and Iwaizumi, letting you stay at the apartment until the disaster at your place ends. Though you weren’t much of a chef, you were really good at making a delicious pot of chicken curry. Truthfully, you’ve never cooked for anyone but yourself before, even Ushijima didn’t have the chance to taste your cooking, so you were quite nervous about the outcome.

Nonetheless, this was your opportunity to do something for all that they’ve done.

“I can’t even remember the last time I had homemade curry,” Iwaizumi says while the corners of his mouth slightly curl up. You think he could probably light a room up with that smile, even if it’s so stupid for you to admit it, but you were really happy Iwaizumi offered to accompany you.

“Well you’re in for a treat!” you giggle. But you're finding yourself distracted watching every move Iwaizumi makes in search of some sort of confirmation that perhaps he is attracted to you too. You know it’s your own fault for clinging onto the tiny chance of hope that it’s more than him being a courteous gentleman.

You’re practically floored when you accidentally brush each other's hands reaching for the same item at the same time. You blush from embarrassment up as you shoot him a sheepish smile and quickly pull your hand away.

Oh god, what is going on with you? Can’t you just be normal for once? You think, attempting to talk yourself down from the severe sweat your body has broken out in.

There were only a couple more things on your list you needed and advised the rest would be found down the aisles. Rounding the corner you begin to walk down the row of groceries on the hunt for the curry roux to complete your dish. At first, you’re too busy ignoring your hyper-awareness to Iwaizumi's presence to notice, but once you do, your heart sinks to your stomach as a familiar figure stands the opposite end of the aisle.

Quickly, you back out of the aisle pushing Iwaizumi with you. He doesn’t necessarily respond, but the unexpected reaction on your part definitely surprises him as he glances down at you with wide eyes.

“My ex is here,” you breathe.

You can feel yourself shutting down again. You at least hoped that living in a different neighborhood, you’d avoid running into Ushijima, but it seems like no matter where you go you always seem to find him. It’s almost like the universe forbids you to get over him.

Iwaizumi tries to push past you, but you shove him back.

“No, no! He’ll see you,” you warn, hands pressed against his chest. Your mind takes a step back realizing what actions you’ve committed while the tips of your fingers and palms of your hands feel his toned chest beneath them. You feel your face warm up and it doesn’t help that you feel like you're burning under Iwaizumi’s dark, intense gaze.

“Let me look,” he argues. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t.”

Putting your hands down, you watch him go. Your shoulders lock up as you ball your hands into fists.

Fuck, fuck, FUCK! Your brain screams.

You turn on your heels preparing yourself to bolt if Iwaizumi has been spotted. Instead, he turns back and looks at you in shock.

“I didn’t know that was your type,” he teases.

You furrow your brows at his response. “And what did you think my type would be?”

“I don’t know…” he clears his throat. “Oikawa?”

“What?” you shout. A look of annoyance flashed across your face, you try to sound polite, but the words come off as irritated with a hint of attitude.

He laughs in response. “Let’s go,” he says while walking past the aisle.

You catch your breath and hesitate, not wanting to be seen by Ushijima, but at the same time, you want to see if that girl is with him. Slowly you poke your head out to get a better look. He appears to be alone on the phone with someone, you can't hear the conversation but you notice by the way he's standing it isn't a good one. You know his mannerisms better than you'd like to admit and one thing he would do when he was having a difficult conversation is pinch the bridge of his nose. It wouldn't happen often, but when it did he would always tell you nothing was wrong when it clearly was.

It's strange looking in from the outside, unable to comfort or distract Ushijima from his worries.

“Pst,” you look over to Iwaizumi, snickering to himself. “Done spying yet?”

His comment startles you as you swallow hard convincing yourself to walk past the aisle to join Iwaizumi. This sad feeling hangs in your chest, a bit sharper than when you were blindsided with a break-up and a bit deeper than when you saw him with the girl. It almost like everything you’ve known was just pulled from under you, as if the last couple of years never existed, it was all a dream and now you're strangers.

You take a deep breath as you follow Iwaizumi to continue gathering the rest of the ingredients. In your mind, you’d imagined that anger would have encapsulated you in this orb of revenge but instead, you have this longing for wanting to know if any of what you had with him was real.

As you leave, you check behind you wondering if you’ll see him again. Hoping perhaps he will see you too. But you don’t.

“Something wrong?” Iwaizumi asks.

Your face pales as you think up a broad way to express how life just keeps getting worse and worse.

“No, life is just weird now.”

“Cause you’re new roommates are two immature boys?” Iwaizumi jokes.

“That’s the least of my worries,” you answer, letting out a dry chuckle.

Because I get to see you.

The grocery bags bounce against your leg as you look up at the clear sky feeling the sun’s rays kiss your face with warmth. Was it possible for you to like someone this fast? It’s easy enough to get over a break-up when someone else is in the picture, but what if that someone was a person you crossed paths with when you were younger? Was it meant to be? Or are you just imagining things?

The tension feels overwhelming as a fire lights in your stomach.

“You know, I never thought I’d ever see you again.”

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi says peering at you. “It really surprised me too… In a good way. But it seems you can’t keep yourself out of trouble.”

You feel a big surprise overcome as you shift your gaze to him. He’s referring to the sparkly gel pen the bully took from you. You’re certain.

“What can I say? Trouble always finds me, I don’t go looking for it.”

You both laugh, filling your body with relief as the tension in your shoulders relaxes. This feeling of warmth blossoms throughout your body as the sound of his laugh echoes in your ears giving you the perfect amount of serotonin you need to alleviate your earlier worries.

How the hell did you get lucky enough to hear it?

Your eyes glimmer and you feel butterflies erupt in your stomach. The giddy sensation gives you the confidence to slip out the next sentence you didn’t fully process--

“It’s kind of funny because I used to have a crush on you.”

You start to sweat realizing the words that just came out of your mouth and you’re silent. This isn’t exactly how eight-year-old you wanted to confess, honestly, you were going to take your crush on Iwaizumi to your grave. And now here you are. Oversharing. Something you don’t pride yourself on doing. In fact, now, you’re just worried about what he will say.

“I know,” he replies, avoiding eye contact rubbing the back of his neck.

“What?” you start, stumbling over your feet.

You feel like you didn’t hear that right. Yes, you would see him every day because you were in the same class. But you barely spoke to each other, keeping to yourself most of the time. You were discreet, to say the least.

“How?” is the only thing you can think up to say.

“I mean, you weren’t really good at hiding it, with you staring at me all the time,” he says. “But also Hina told me.”

Hina, an old ‘friend’ of yours from elementary school. You recall her pestering you about who was your crush and stupidly told her who. And what does she do in return? That’s a low blow for an eight-year-old.

Brushing it off with a dry laugh, you add, “Well that’s embarrassing.”

“I wouldn’t say so,” he shrugs, looking at you in his peripheral vision. “We were just kids.”

You open your mouth to speak but the words die in your throat.

“It’s not like you still have those feelings,” he continues.

Oh.

“God no,” you exclaim, sounding a bit insincere. But you’re trying to act unaffected by the strength of his words that made you feel like you just got hit by a car.

“Do you?”

“W-what?” you stutter flustered. “I-I don’t know what you’re asking--”

“I was joking. It was a joke,” Iwaizumi interjects realizing maybe he’s pushed it a little too far then playfully nudges you with his shoulder.

Your whole body tingles from the short contact. In a way, it feels like he just unknowingly friend-zoned you in a matter of seconds. But it was truly your fault for thinking that some sort of fate brought you both together. You feel like you’ve been pulled out of the strange lull of not knowing how the other person is feeling. Now you just feel like an idiot.

“Right! Just a joke!” Changing your entire expression to a more vibrant smile.

Part of you wishes you didn’t get your answer though.

------

Dinner doesn’t take as long as you suspected, especially with Iwaizumi’s help, speeding up the process without you stressing over getting it done at a reasonable hour. It isn’t overly delicious as you taste the final concoction, but you still find it good enough to serve your friends.

“Thanks for the help,” you smile.

“No problem,” he says.

“What time is Oikawa coming home?” you question while turning down the heat and covering the curry with a lid to keep warm.

“He texted me back saying--”

“I’m home,” a voice calls from the entrance. Oikawa walks into the kitchen nose carried by the rich smell of spices. The corner of his lips curls up into a coy smile as he eyes you up and down while you stand in front of the stove with an apron on. “Didn’t know I could consider you wife material.”

“Remind me to not do something nice for you again,” you retort, irked by the shit-eating grin.

He blinks when he peeks over your shoulder realizing the delicious smell is coming from a pot on the stove. “You made dinner?”

“Yes, as thanks for letting me stay here, but I can just throw it out if you’re going to be an asshole,” you argue while staring at him intensely. It strikes you that you’ve forgotten how ungrateful he can be and perhaps making dinner was just a bad idea to show gratitude.

“No, no, I was just kidding,” he begs. “Looks good.”

“Go sit,” you scold.

He’s taken aback by the sternness in your voice and slowly back off to the dining table in the other room.

Iwaizumi passes a plate of rice to you, noticing the aura of rage exuding by the way you slop the chicken curry onto the plate.

“You ok?” he asks so matter-of-factly that you could punch him as well.

“I’m fine,” you reply quickly while you finish plating that last portion.

Walking into the other room, you set a plate down in front of Oikawa who marvels at the mouth-watering meal.

“Thanks for the meal,” Oikawa says, delving into the curry. His eyes light up at the taste as he happily chews the tender chicken. “It’s good!”

“Thanks,” you mumble. But your anger hasn’t dissipated as he can immediately sense it whilst you refuse to look his way. “Iwaizumi helped too.”

“I can’t take credit for all your hard work,” he adds.

You look up at Iwaizumi giving him a soft smile then turn back to the food that you’ve barely touched as you continue to play with it on your plate. You’ve lost your appetite.

“I think I’m going to go to bed,” you utter getting up from your seat.

“What? Aren’t you hungry?” Oikawa asks.

“I’m just tired,” you reply, bringing your plate into the kitchen.

No one else says anything else as they watch you go, they just pause unable to process your sudden exit. The next thing they hear is the door shut to Oikawa’s room. They exchange glances before continuing to indulge in their meal.

Collapsing on the bed you exhale deeply. It’s too bad you couldn’t sit down and enjoy the meal but everything seemed to hit you at once. You could only take so much, from seeing Ushijima yet again to the disappointing rejection from Iwaizumi to Oikawa’s snarky comments. You don’t know why his comment jabbed you so deeply, normally, stuff like that doesn’t bother you, but you suspect all the stress and surprises you’ve endured in the past three days, you were definitely on edge.

You knew you were lashing out, but you couldn’t ignore the pain you felt inside. Maybe sleeping it off could help. Just maybe.

------

The night felt endless. Shifting in the sheets you bury your face in the pillow; it’s not the same familiar scent as it is back at your apartment, instead, it’s a mix of fabric softener with a ting of cologne that most certainly smells like Oikawa.

Didn’t know I could consider you wife material.

The same words repeat in your head causing you to toss and turn, unable to fall asleep with all the anxiety pent up inside. His words make sense though. If Oikawa couldn’t even see you that way, how could Iwaizumi?

You know you’re not going to get any more sleep with your thoughts racing, so you climb out of bed and throw on a jacket.

Slowly turning the knob, you pry the door open and creep into the hall. The apartment is dark and quiet except for the subdued sound of Oikawa's snoring trailing from the living room. You study him in his deep slumber while a trickle of the light slips in through a crack of the closed curtains. You still can’t believe he gave up his bed to let you sleep in it. Lately, he’s been awfully nicer than usual to you.

As you reach the foyer, you crouch over to slip on your shoes to lace them up. Suddenly the air in the room shifts as a hand emerges from the darkness to cover your mouth. Your fight or flight instincts kick in as you try to tear the culprit's arm away from you. But when you do, your eyes are met with Iwaizumi holding his index finger to his lips. You send him a wide-eyed glare in disapproval of his actions, you thought you were going to have a heart attack.

“Go,” he whispers, gesturing to leave.

Putting on your other shoe and quickly tying it, you get up to unlock the door.

Click!

The sound wasn’t that loud, but in the silence of the apartment, it feels like the noise shot and reverberated off the walls. You close your eyes and strain your hearing to listen for Oikawa's snoring. And it stops. But for a moment, before continuing.

You sigh as you shoot Iwaizumi with a look of relief and walk out of the apartment.

A shiver goes down your spine as you breathe in the fresh dewy morning air while the birds chirping in the background with the sun just about to rise. You lean on the railing taking in the peaceful surroundings having a newfound appreciation of how beautiful everything is.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Iwaizumi asks, shutting the door behind him.

“Not really,” you groan. “You?”

“I have a weird sleep schedule,” he continues, his voice a little groggy probably from just waking up. He takes out a pack of cigarettes and offers you the pack as a way of asking if you’d like one. “I like getting up early when I can.”

“Yeah I’m a bit more of a morning person myself,” you reply, accepting a smoke. As of lately you’re a morning and night person but didn’t think it was not worth mentioning.

He lights the cigarette and passes you the lighter. You watch him press his lips to the smoke, you wonder if they’re as soft as they appear providing that he seems so gentle when inhaling the toxins. Then he exhales the smoke, you watch it curl into the air and the sweet smell hits your nose urging you to light your own. In your fantasies, you imagine sharing a smoke as a form of intimacy, passing it off to each other, but obviously, this is real life and not some romance novel so you push the thought away.

“So, what do your parents do?”

The question feels like a forced form of conversation that you ask someone when you don’t know what to talk about. You know after yesterday’s adventure to your parent's home, there must have been a lot going through his mind as to how they have such a big house with so many rooms, but the inquiry is always deeply triggering. It’s not that you don’t want to answer, you just don’t like to talk about your parents much. You wouldn’t think that you have the healthiest relationship with them and you definitely didn’t believe now is the best time to give a full autobiography.

“... They work in medicine,” you try to sound enthusiastic but the words leave your mouth sounding bitter and resentful.

“Ah, both doctors?”

“Mm… Kind of,” you mutter, taking a hit from the cigarette realizing you’re going to need another one soon with the way this conversation is going.

“You don’t like talking about it?” he exclaims, noticing that you are extremely reticent to the topic.

“Not really…”

You didn’t feel like outlining how they forced you to go to university when you weren’t completely sure what to study. And you didn’t want to tell him that they were absolutely livid when you refused to go to school. And the only compromise you could make with them is that you would go to university if you were allowed to move out to live by yourself.

“They’re great in a sense they take care of me, but not great in a way that I am able to choose what I want to do…” you mumble, already dreading the fact you’re starting to overshare. Sure he asked, but you can’t help but feel guilty for even talking about the subject.

“Well, what do you want to do?”

You pause. Despite his firm demeanor, it wasn’t something you expected to hear from Iwaizumi. At all. What did you want to do?

Go somewhere far away, where no one can find me, leave everything behind, become the person I want to be without any judgment… Is what you wanted to say, but instead, you murmur, “I don’t know… I’m hoping someday I figure it out.”

“No harm in that,” he responds.

“You’re lucky you know what you want to do,” you utter, peering at him. “I wish I did.”

Iwaizumi exhales and looks up at the sky that’s changing to a golden color with the sun about to rise.

“It's okay to not know what you want right now,” he begins. “It’s hard to commit to something that you’re going to do for the rest of your life.”

“How did you know?”

“One day I just knew,” he shrugs.

“I don’t think I can,” you object, fully knowing you’re being difficult.

Instinctively, you don’t think something like that can appear before you so easily. Here you are, almost four years later, completing a degree you don’t necessarily care about, but feel like you have to do in order to get your parents off your back. You understand it’s your life and you have the full ability to make your own decisions but all you can feel is fear and anxiety wash over you at the thought of thinking where you could be in five years.

“What about your ex?”

You blink unsure if you heard Iwaizumi right.

“What?” you answer almost coldly.

“Do you want to get back together with him?”

“No,” you snap hostilely, raising your voice.

“There, you made one decision,” he points out.

“Not when he’s found someone else,” you whisper.

You swallow hard as he glances up at you, his gaze finally meeting yours for the first time this morning. The statement takes you both by surprise as your words linger in the air between the two of you. Iwaizumi’s eyes are wide like he’s heard this fact for the first time.

“Didn’t Oikawa tell you?”

Iwaizumi shakes his head. "What happened?"

You feel yourself emotionally facepalm yourself as you draw the conclusion that Oikawa didn't actually tell Iwaizumi everything. Now you'd wish you had clarification of what he was told.

“I saw him the other day, when I was out with Oikawa, with someone new,” you confess, taking a deep inhale you feel your eyes start to turn glassy and your heart dip. It’s a mix of feeling like the world is about to implode and embarrassment as you come to realize the amount of word vomit that leaves your mouth in Iwaizumi’s presence.

“She knows what she wants, that’s probably why he left me. Probably smarter too and definitely much prettier,” you add, not knowing why you’re continuing to go on about it.

Yes, you’re tired and upset that all this dumb bullshit keeps happening to you, all you wanted to do was talk about it. Even if Oikawa offered, there’s this unexplainable uneasiness of being vulnerable around him.

The next few minutes are painful as you stand in irrefutable silence that seems to speak louder than any words of comfort. You wonder if you’ve overstepped your boundaries by telling him more than he probably cares to know.

“I hear that you’re smart,” Iwaizumi finally says. “Oikawa says you’re always studying hard and getting high marks in your classes…”

Frankly, he didn’t have to try to console you. He has no reason to. And he can’t lie, he feels a bit guilty for bringing it up.

“And I doubt she’s prettier,” he utters.

Your chest tightens as you look at Iwaizumi with bright eyes. He takes a long drag of his cigarette before breathing out looking in the opposite direction. You know you’re a bit insane for getting your hopes up slightly, but you can’t help it with a comment like that.

Why do you feel so nervous?

“I’m going to go inside. See if I can get some more rest before class,” you assure, putting out the cigarette. You know you're running away from the conversation but Iwaizumi's comment was more complex than you wanted it to be.

------

It’s been almost a week at Oikawa’s apartment.

You thought it was going to be endlessly chaotic with lots of annoying bantering on Oikawa’s part, but it’s been quite pleasant. However, no matter how hard you try, you just can’t manage to get a good night’s rest. You blame the unfamiliar atmosphere, with the unfamiliar sounds coming from outside and the unfamiliar smell that most definitely is a ting of Oikawa’s clone. Each night you find yourself shifting around, unable to get comfortable, trying to plead yourself to sleep so you can survive another day. But even when you do fall asleep, you find yourself waking up every hour, checking the time on your phone, checking for missed calls or messages.

Yes, you did in fact still have that sliver of hope Ushijima would reach out.

Yet, whenever the phone illuminates your face waking you up, even more, your notifications are empty. And honestly, your heart was too, yet also so heavy.

The past couple of mornings you’ve had classes later that day, you manage to sleep on and off until you had to drag yourself to campus in time.

But oh my god. Class is nothing short of boring making time feel like it’s moving alarmingly slow. You think perhaps you can get away with taking a nap, seeing as you are seated at the back of the class. Except as you’re about to, the professor designates a group assignment.

Fun.

Gathering your stuff, you move to a desk to sit with your group members the professor assigned. As you scan the other student's faces before opening your textbook up, a small commotion at the front of the classroom distracts you. A student files in apologizing to the professor for her tardiness. At first, you don’t recognize her familiar appearance until she approaches your group to sit down across from you. But once you do, you realize you are met with the girl you never thought you’d see like this.

The transfer student.

Infuriatingly enough, she’s pretty wearing a nicely put-together outfit with a face full of makeup perfectly applied. You notice the soft shine from her sparkly gloss as she smiles flashing her pearly whites. The atmosphere seems to shift as her smile radiates before speaking up. No wonder Ushijima has a thing for her. She's gorgeous.

“I’m Sara,” she announces. “I look forward to working with you all!”

The student beside you nudges your arm, gesturing you to introduce yourself.

“Oh, I’m Y/N,” you say softly, trying to revert your eye contact with the new member whose eyes sparkle while gazing at you.

Then it strikes you. Does she even know who you are?

-------

Back at the apartment, Oikawa enters his room to grab his homework and textbooks. The room is a mess with clothes thrown on the floor and your belonging placed unorderly in random spots. He shoots the room with a sour look, a bit displeased seeing as he always thought you were much tidier than this. Approaching his desk, he notices your pile of clothing holding his textbooks hostage, drooped all over his desk. He starts to sweat as he slowly pries his books from under hoping the heap of clothes won’t fall. And he’s lucky for a moment until a couple of articles crash to the floor.

Oikawa sighs as he begins to pick them up to place them back on the desk. But as he grabs your jacket, he hears a small thud as cartilage hits the floor. He looks down to see what’s been dropped and spies a pack of smokes.

He hesitantly picks them up analyzing the half-used pack unsure why it was in his pocket.

“Hey are you-- What are you doing?” Iwaizumi scolds pausing in the doorway staring at Oikawa in surprise. He looks down to where Oikawa’s eye line meets.

Oikawa turns to Iwaizumi, “She smokes?”

“Uh, no,” Iwaizumi spouts out quickly, walking up to Oikawa taking the pack away from him. “She’s holding that for me.”

“Don’t bullshit, I know you don’t smoke this brand,” he sneers, face flickering with disgust. “Why are you covering for her?”

Iwaizumi is quiet as the shame he had hoped to ignore fills him with guilt.

“Fuck,” Oikawa snaps storming out of the room.

------

“Y/N,” a voice calls out to you from behind. Class finally ended and you had rushed out in order to get back to the apartment at a decent hour. Meeting Sara really put you in a bad mood and the last thing you wanted to do was linger after class for some forced conversation. Yet when you turn around to see whose voice it was, Sara stands before you smiling.

“What do you think of going out for dinner tonight? I thought it would be a good idea for our group to get to know each other more since we will be working together for the rest of the semester…”

She’s polite and soft-spoken, a seemingly large contrast from your loud and fiery personality.

“Um, I’m not sure…” you say after a long pause.

“Please! It will be fun. You can even bring some friends.” she pleads, perhaps more appealing than you wanted to hear.

There’s a strange excitement to her voice that makes you feel like you need to say yes as you think about it for a moment. Her invitation must mean she doesn’t know that you are her new boyfriend’s recent ex-girlfriend of 3 days. With that in mind, your curiosity grows about what kind of person Sara is.

“What time?” you reply.

------

“I’m back,” you call into the apartment. Surprisingly, you are a bit enthusiastic to tell Oikawa and Iwaizumi about the invitation. It was your chance to spy and you knew Oikawa would definitely be down to join.

Oikawa rushes out with a stern look on his face just moments after you announce your arrival. He was ready to confront you about what he found today, but before he has a chance to you speak up.

“I have a favor to ask of you,” you say while unlacing your shoes.“I met the transfer student today, her name is Sara. I didn’t realize she’s in my class.”

Oikawa remains silent, cluing into the way you radiate as you speak; it’s been a while since he’s seen you this way. Your voice seems to chirp at a higher note and the way you’re carrying yourself seemed lighter as well.

“She asked me to go out for dinner, to get to know me better,” you threw up a couple of air quotes to mock her. “You, me and Iwaizumi, we’re going. I have to see what she’s all about.”

You look at Oikawa who still hasn’t spoken and shoot him a concerned look, “What? Did I do something?”

“Dinner? With your ex's new girlfriend?” he mutters, sounding not even remotely pleased with your explanation.

“Apparently she doesn’t know I’m his ex,” you answer coy. “Or I doubt she would have invited me.”

You may not have all the answers you want, but you sure as hell know you can find out something.

“I mean, you don’t have to come, I’m sure Iwaizumi will be fine just going with me,” you smirk.

“Uh, no I’ll come,” Oikawa responds quickly, realizing he’s going to have to keep an eye on you. Right now, you don’t know that he knows you’re smoking and maybe instead of confronting you there was another way he could stop you from continuing the bad habit. He most definitely could have brought it up now, but seeing you in a happier mood, for once, he didn’t want to ruin it.

Suddenly, the door opens behind you and Iwaizumi appears glistening in sweat from his afternoon jog. He looks like he’s glowing as he wipes the sweat from his brow and gazes at you in the entrance. “What’s going on?”

“Y/N-chan’s exes new girl asked Y/N to go out for dinner, but we assume she doesn’t know about Y/N and Ushijima… You in?” Oikawa explains.

Iwaizumi isn’t sure he understood the entire explanation but doesn’t seem to care as he notices the stars in your eyes waiting for his response. He can tell he wants you to go.

“How much time do I have to get ready?”

------

The restaurant is lively, full of patrons talking over each other while they argue over who’s going to buy the next pitcher of beer. You feel your nerves start to explode as you check the crowded room in search of Sara and your group members. Fortunately, a hostess greets you and you ask her in regards to where a big group of people would be sitting. As you follow behind her deeper into the restaurant, the more everything starts to feel real. You are on the cusp of turning around and getting out of there.

Did you really want to see what she was like? Were you that desperate for answers?

But you’re too late to turn back as Sara’s face lights up when she sees you.

“You made it!” she smiles.

But you can’t meet her with the same bright smile because right beside her is Ushijima.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #oikawa x reader #oikawa x y/n #oikawa tooru #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime #ushijima x reader #ushijima x y/n #ushijima wakatoshi

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txtmoalove · 4 years ago

Text

Enemies to lovers! Beomgyu (m)

Pairing - Choi Beomgyu x Reader (ft. Soobin, but just for a few moments)

Genre - smut

Word count - 4,861

A/n - I wanted this to be a tiny drabble :') but oh well.. Beomgyu gave me hot vibes I had to, I hope it was worth the wait I'm so sorry🥺!! Also, thank you @classyfemme for making me this mood board I love it! I hope it turned out well.

Mature content ahead!

"you can't just simply shut your mouth for once huh?" Beomgyu growled as he pinned you against the door of a stranger's bedroom, holding your hands on each of your sides while his face is so close to yours.

If you were on your right mind that night you'd never let him lay a finger on you, or even be this close to you, you wouldn't have let such situation happen especially with Beomgyu. You two shared pure hate with each other constantly provoking one another and endless fights whenever you both were somehow in one place.

But this time.. something went completely wrong. You just wanted to finally enjoy a friday night by going out to a party with your friends in some boy's frat and then you saw him. Can't he be somewhere else? It's like the universe itself hates you and makes you see him everywhere you go, not that Beomgyu was happy either.

The real question is, How did you two even get in a small separate room from everyone?

Well.. Beomgyu really liked getting on your nerves. When you entered the party you went to grab some drinks for your friends while they went to mingle with other people, you spotted Beomgyu with his equally dumb friends and a girl wrapped around his side constantly clinging to him, that disgusted you.

While you completely got back to ignoring them and grabbing your drink in peace, Beomgyu saw you from the corner of his eye and he could already feel his blood boiling and that seeing you here almost ruined his entire weekend. He wanted to make you go away, to scram from this party and the only way he can actually do it is by getting on your nerves, and he knew how to do that very well.

A shit eating grin plastered all over his face as he told the guys that he's going to get something to drink and walked over to your standing figure by the kitchen. You got startled when you heard the sound of someone slam their hand on the table, nearly spilling your drink at hand you looked up and saw your worst nightmare Infront of you.

"what the hell do you want from me now?" You asked and sighed heavily, putting your hand on your hip.

When Beomgyu approached you at first, he didn't give any mind on your physical appearance but as soon as he got a closer look .. he was a bit taken aback.

You were wearing a black tight dress that emphasized all your curves with black heels and light makeup, you also curled the ends of your hair. To conclude, you looked gorgeous and Beomgyu didn't know how to deal with that for a second, but then he composed himself.

"damn I thought it was a nice party until you showed up" he said and you rolled your eyes "here I thought that at least this once I won't get to see your face but.. here we are" Beomgyu sighed and leaned on the table. You were used to this and you just wanted to scream at him. This time however, you are going to flip him off and enjoy yourself for once, so you won't be fazed by his stupid remarks.

"I know what you're trying to do but it won't work for you" you kept your tone straight but never looked him in the eyes, you took the filled red cup and gulped down the drink "if you think that trying to annoy me will eventually make me leave you're wrong, Beomgyu."

For once, Beomgyu didn't know what to say. Maybe in this exact moment he felt intimidated by your appearance? Usually you'd get riled up by his words so much it was a fun scene to react to. But this time there's no fun in that, guess he's going to try harder than that.

"now, if you'll actually excuse me" you took the other drink in hand to your friend and left the kitchen. Beomgyu got irritated by your lack of backfire reaction, he expected some drama but you just left him standing alone, no one does that to him.

His eyes trailed lower onto the swaying of your hips and he got even angrier. Not only you were a pain in the ass but you were hot as well. Sometimes he wanted to put you in your place and fuck your brains out just to see how you finally submit to him and maybe never hurt his pride again, but you were something else completely. That's why the next thing he's going to say just slipped off his mouth.

"I thought you hated me so why giving me the nice view of your ass!!" He shouted for you to hear but you just gave him the middle finger, he flipped his black hair backwards with his hand and sighed heavily.

You were actually surprised you didn't swallow up your words the second he approached you because, let's face it, Beomgyu is mad handsome. it was such a hard time avoiding him in this state, you were afraid you'd stutter but you actually did a pretty good job. the weird thing is.. you'd never let his words affect you, ever! but, why was it so different now?

"I thought you hated me so why giving me the nice view of your ass!!"

Where did that come from? And why did you feel all these tingles wondering down your body, you felt like your stomach flipped in some kind of way. You wanted more.. you wanted to tease him and hear him talk to you like that again, was he really thinking about you that way?

You shouldn't get excited about this at all, you swore you hated him with all your heart.. you needed to brush it off , there's no way you're going crazy like that. Can't he just be less hot for a second so you could compose yourself?

Enough of this overthinking about him, he's not worth it! Time to get back to the party.

🔻🔻🔻🔻🔻🔻🔻🔻🔻🔻🔻🔻🔻🔻🔻🔻🔻🔻

After joining your friends in the center of the crowd, you also began to dance, your head thrown from side to side while you moved your hips in circling motion, getting the beat, moving along. Then you closed your eyes shortly, getting lost in the music, the little alcohol in your veins fuelling your relaxed state, a bright smile crawling on your lips. This is exactly what you were looking for at this frat party, loosing yourself in something you loved, with the people you were close to, who cared for you and the thought of Beomgyu lighted up behind your closed eyes. Shaking your head you opened them to get rid of his face, he won't ruin this for you, you won't let him this time..were you?

The truth is, it's hard doing exactly that when he shamelessly continues to stare at you from afar. You rolled your eyes and let out a puffed breath, trying your best to ignore him because he obviously wants to make you feel uncomfortable, that boy god damn it ..

Beomgyu was still standing with a drink in his hand , leaning onto a wall behind him when his group of friends had gone somewhere without him, this wasn't going according to his plans tonight at all. He also didn't plan on watching you dance, he couldn't help but stare at the way you move your body.. you seemed so relaxed for once and this was a new side Beomgyu saw in you.

On the other hand, you hate how you could always notice how hot and attractive he actually was. His messy hair, his tight clothes, the handsome but cute face with such a seductive smile plastered on his lips when he sees you.

It was frustrating and horribly exhausting having to deal with him for almost every day but you almost got used to it, almost. You couldn't understand how he was so friendly and fun with others but when it came to you, he suddenly becomes a douche bag. Your thoughts were cut off by a tap on your shoulder.

You felt a tall presence behind you so you turned around and to your surprise you saw Soobin. The purple haired boy smiled warmly when your face met with his "Y/n? Is that really you?" He raised an eyebrow.

"oh gosh, Soobs! It's been a freaking while" you came to the realization your friend from high school is standing right next to you, you jumped from excitement and hugged him tightly. Soobin wrapped both his hands around your waist and giggled along with you, he tilted his head to the crook of your neck for a moment and looked at you.

"woah easy there girl, are you trying to kill me?" Soobin joked and you stepped back , putting the strands of your hair behind your ear. Your cheeks turning into a light shade of pink from your actions "I just didn't expect to see you here at all, what are you doing here?" You asked him.

"can't I go to a party and have some fun like other people?" He teased you and poked your side, tickling you in the process so you flinched. Before you had the chance to answer , Beomgyu caught your attention from the corner of your eye. He seemed pissed, the way he held his drink and his dark gaze was upon you.. you felt like gulping, but on the other hand, why would you back off? If he started the night on the wrong foot with you, why shouldn't you return the favor? Besides.. pissing him even further sounds a bit fun.

So you changed your mindset and focused on the man that is standing right Infront of you.

"I just didn't remember you being a party boy, that's all" you winked his way and he put his hands once again on your waist to get closer, you could feel his breath on your ear as he leaned to your level "and I didn't remember you being the type to tease me" he laughed it off.

Your confidence only grew and you could feel the hot atmosphere slowly growing on you , you looked over Soobin's shoulder just to see Beomgyu's upset face. That's perfect, you smirked his way and you swear you almost saw him smashing the cup in his hands.

You won't lie and say that the dark look he gives you didn't turn you on, but he's just a jackass and it would satisfy you so much if he sees you and Soobin hitting it off. You wrapped your arms around Soobin's neck and got on your tiptoes to whisper him something as well "well Soobin.. I guess people do change from time to time. Would you do the honours of dancing with me?" Your voice tone was playful and the grip of Soobin's hands around you tightened "It would be an absolute honour, Princess".

You took his hand and brought him further in into the dance floor, for some reason you still couldn't take your eyes off of Beomgyu. You saw him sitting next to a blonde girl now trying to test his luck, you rolled your eyes.

“Move”, you heard Soobin's deep voice before you felt his hands on your hips bringing you back to earth, pulling you close to him. “You suggested dancing, so move these hips of yours”, he shouted over the music, his fingers digging into your side while moving them on his own.

Whilst locking eyes you two moved rhythmically together, your bodies colliding from time to time when Soobin loosened his grip just to pull you to his chest again, hips meeting yours by now and what you felt was everything but innocent dancing between friends. hair tinged in sweat as he grabbed you by the waist again, The music got slower, a sexy song playing wherefore Soobin’s hips pressed further into yours, moving slowly, gradually more sensual while grinning at you. Whilst Beomgyu found himself a pretty girl to entertain himself, he took a few glances then and there to watch you and then your eyes met once again.

There was something between anger and playfulness glistening in both of your eyes. So you took this opportunity while he was looking and grabbed Soobin by the neck, gently leaning towards his lips and kissing him skillfully, drawing him in. At first, Soobin didn't know where the hell did that come from, but shrugged it off anyway as he realised he was kissing you, the hottest girl he have ever been friends with.

You smiled as you knew Beomgyu was watching you and Soobin from afar, loosing yourself in this heated kiss. Both of you clinging to each other as Soobin slipped his tongue and made you whine into his mouth, you didn't care about your surroundings anymore.. you just wanted to forget Beomgyu's stupid face for at least one night.

You yelped as someone pulled on your wrist. You turned around quickly, your face being met with a rather upset Beomgyu, his eyes so dark, darker than you had ever seen them. You scoffed.

"Beomgyu what the hell!" You yelled.

"We need to talk," he growled. His voice was deeper than usual, the tone going right between your legs. He yanked you again, pulling you across the room leaving Soobin alone and confused.

You scoffed going as he asked not knowing why. moving towards the strairs and on to an empty room. Once he gently shoved you in, he trapped you against the wooden door and then there was silence.

"What do you think you're doing here exactly?" Beomgyu's face was inches from yours, his tone of voice sounds mean and demanding. Your legs are weakening from his closure and you didn't even know why the hell would you feel like that from him, you're fighting with yourself to deny these feelings.

"I'm living my own life, Beomgyu! Fuck off get away from me" you put your hands in his chest to push him away but regretted doing so when you felt his built body on his clothed skin, you were taken aback for a second.

"are you sure you want me to go away sweetheart? From the looks of you right now, you look like you'd drop on your knees any second" he was being too cocky, how dare he!! The amount of audacity he has to actually say it and look so hot at the same time.. but! No way in hell you'd let him go and do it his way.

"Shut the fuck up, choi, you might have fooled all the little college girls, but we both know you're not that special. You're all talk and shit but we both know you're too afraid to do something, Are you self-conscious about your thrust game? Too much alcohol in yo-" for the first time that night you were interrupted by his actions.

"If you can't do that, maybe I'll make you for once" a whole damn chill ran up your body, even if you'd want to get out of his grip on your hands you couldn't. he looked you straight in the eyes and you could see his black orbs dark and hungry , maybe even lustful? Or maybe you were the only one who felt this burning passion.

You could feel his hot breath on your lips as he almost whispered "tell me to go away right now if you really don't want me that close, and I'll leave you alone" your heartbeat increased in that moment, you took a deep breath to calm yourself and looked away from him. You always talked about how you want him away from you life, away from his troubles and shenanigans.. away from his stupid self and away from all his drama. But , do you really want that now? A thought of emptiness filled your mind.

You turned your face to him once again and gazed upon the sight of him licking his lips and observing you, anticipating your answer. All the heat shot down to your core, he made you weak to your kness and you can't deny that anymore.

Beomgyu had enough of your silence and brought his hand to lift your chin up to his face level "tell me to stop and I'm gone sweetheart, I won't bother you anymore" he gritted his teeth and couldn't wait for your reaction anymore, he has this feeling inside of him that you're supposed to be his, not anyone elses.

"what if I don't want you to stop?" You said quietly and the tension couldn't get any stronger than that. You two were silent and Beomgyu was shocked from your response to say at least.

You were scared he didn't even want this, maybe he was just messing with your head and maybe you should just apologize and run away from him this instant. Not a second has passed and his lips were smashed against yours, you let out a surprised whine against his lips and he growled in response.

Your back hit the doorframe once again as you two continued the heated make out session, his hands all over you gripping your hips tightly and pressing himself against you. Your hands around his neck, one hand coming up to tugs on his black locks, you felt dizzy from the sensation. Beomgyu wasn't bluffing his skills, he is a great kisser and now you're melting in his arms.

"God, you make me crazy" Beomgyu pulled away for a moment to breath and look at your already fucked out state, his excitement rushed downwards his pants.

His teeth find home on your bottom lip. You can’t staunch the moan when he pulls, sucks. He releases only to trace his bite mark with his tongue like he’s proud of his work. You repay him by meeting his tongue with your own, tingles and adrenaline exploding like fireworks in your veins with each swipe. Another harsh yank at your head makes you very aware that he’s soaking you. You fucking hate that, yet you keep going back for more.

You hadn’t realized that he had his left leg in between you until you feel his knee pressing up against your thigh and you let out a small moan at the thought of it moving slightly higher, desperate for any kind of attention down there.

“Cat got your tongue?’’ he asks then, smirking and panting "can't get your words together huh? Am I overwhelming you baby?" He teases you but your mind is somewhere else. Beomgyu's hand slowly makes its way downwards your body lifting up your leg to his waist and caressing your exposed thigh, hips pressing against each other and obviously feeling his hard on. Fuck, did it feel so good.

"y-yes" you mumbled , feared your voice would betray you, you didn't know how to answer back on this point and the stupid smirk on his face just widened "what do you want baby, hmm? I'm all yours now, I can feel how hot your pussy is aching down there, do you want me to take care of it?" His low voice with a bit of playfulness soft tone made you shiver, you wanted him so badly.

You nodded in response and he kissed his way down your neck, nibbling and sucking on your earlobe "use your words sweetheart, I can't give you what you want like that" you whined and he chuckled darkly.

"p-please touch me Beomgyu.." you said in a breathy tone and he was amused "a please? Asking so nicely.. such a good girl for me" he practically purred at your words, cock twitching in his pants already ready to burst.

The nickname he gave you made you moan and grab his neck to kiss him once again.

Beomgyu's hand travelled further under you dress and cups your heat, easily finds your clothed clit, he starts rubbing small circles on your sensitive nub. A needy moan leaves your lips at the sensation, panties soaking with arousal. It’s almost pathetic how such a simple touch of his could get you so riled-up.

"Fuck you're so sexy, so warm.." he slipped his hand into your panties, feeling your wetness and Beomgyu inhaled sharply "look at you.. such a hot mess, you're soaking my fingers" Beomgyu groaned as he imagined himself slips in you, you're driving him insane and he can't believe his actually touching you right now.

He proceeded to slip a finger inside your needy cunt and you mewld at the newfound sensation, throwing your head back in the process "fuck.. Beomgyu.." you moaned.

He moves to your neck, latching onto a sensitive spot immediately. This combined with the weight of him pressing down on your chest has you heaving, exposing more of your neck for him to explore. Your sweaty bodies slide against each other and you roam your fingers through his damp hair, savoring the feel of his tongue gliding up and down your neck until he settles on a place that makes you curl your fingers around those soft black locks.

Beomgyu groaned from your actions, he now picks up his pace and thrusting two fingers up your pussy, his thumb stimulating your clit, you can't help but whine at his touch, he was so good you felt like you're about to explode, that riled up Beomgyu even more “Where’s all the attitude now, hm? You thought you could break me, right? So what’s this?” Your thighs shaking underneath him, as you felt an intense orgasm approach.

"Do you want to cum on my fingers baby?" He asks you and his voice drips with honey, you nodded immediately , loosing yourself in pleasure. Just as you were about to reach your high Beomgyu stopped and you whined loudly "stop being such a brat" his voice strict shutting you up "you're so needy right now I love it.." he looks you right in your eyes and tugs on you bottom lip with his teeth.

He lifts you up and puts you down on the bed , slowly crawling and settling between your legs. He started to take off his leather jacket and his white sweaty shirt. His new exposed skin glistening with sweat and you never felt this turned on, Beomgyu was hot as hell.

He leaned closer to your face "the only place you're going to cum tonight is on my cock" he almost whispered. "Please fuck me already I can't take it anymore" you almost beg from desperation and its like music to his ears. Beomgyu is quick to get your skin exposed and hiss at the sight. Of course he had a condom with him, he slowly put it on his hard length and your mouth watered.

the both of you burn with passion, clothes scattered all over the room until the both of you have nothing to cover you up, it was getting hotter in the room.

“When was the last time you got fucked, hm?” and without even waiting for an answer, his lips were on yours. It was messy and rough and way too passionate but it felt so good, his hands all over you feeling up your breasts, your core clenching around nothing as his hands slapped your thighs at the exact same moment his tongue forced your mouth open - you would have opened it for him anyways. “answer me,” he demanded, resting his forehead on yours and you whined when he nipped at your bottom lip.

"A very long time.. want you to fuck me right now" you pleaded and his cocky smirk never wiped away from his face, his dark orbs staring right back at yours and he inhaled sharply "can't believe I'm finally gonna put you in your place. I would like to see how you beg for Soobin to touch you after I'm finished with you.." he was envious to say at least.

Beomgyu lifted your leg and teased you with the tip of his cock right at your dripping entrance and hissed "Beomgyu, I swear to god if you won't put it in right now-" he cuts you off by pushing his length all the way in without letting you even adjust "be careful with how you talk to me , princess. You're in no place to tell me what to do" he growled and you moaned loudly at the feeling of him inside you, your whole body buzzing with pleasure.

"oh, fuck," he groans. "i can't believe you're letting me fuck you at this party, you're so tight shit" his voice is breathy as he continues pounding into you quickly. "right here on this strangers bed... what a little slut," he said, pulling you by your chin to force you to look at him.

you whine as his eyes burn into you, one thumb moving to rub at your clit. "only for me though, isn't that right, baby? you'll only be my little slut from now on, huh?" you nod and moan pathetically, eyes closing as he keeps a firm grip on your chin.

"Soobin would die to have this pussy right now" he picked up his pace at his words that were filled with anger and you were a whole moaning mess. You were gripping Beomgyu so tightly against you, scratching your nails on his back leaving some red light marks in the process, Beomgyu didn't mind at all.

"keep your fucking eyes open," he mutters, his hand going from your chin to your neck. this time he tightens his fingers around your throat lightly, you forcing your eyes open as he does. he lets out a throaty moan when you clench around him, already feel your high approaching quickly.

"Oh god, Beomgyu.." you wanted to cry your eyes out from pleasure, he was making you feel so good.

"Beomgyu! I’m going t-to c-cum. Oh god.” He was breathing hard, sweat dripping down his temples as his gaze never left your face. You were actually crying now; clawing at his back as you held on while he parted you open every time he pushed the entire girth of his cock.

“say my name again,” he whispered in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “and i‘ll let you cum.”

Meanwhile your head dropped on the sheets and your free hands grabbed them as hard as they could because of his violently thrusts that caused you to jump up and down. Mercilessly he held your legs in position.

Your voice calling out for him at this rate was enough for Beomgyu to go wild. It was just like the most beautiful melody he had ever heard as he pounded even harder than before, brows furrowed of exhaustion. You could see how sweat pooled on his toned and tanned body. Your whole body shook at the pleasure that washed you, the knot in your stomach exploded as you reached your high so hardly, Heavy grunts escaped him while you tightened around him. With the next moan of yours he himself felt his release shooting into the condom. Several sounds slipped out his mouth and with a last sloppy thrust of his hips he pulled out of you. The condom landed in the bin next to his bed.

Now it was just the two of you laying in bed and panting , staring at the ceiling. Beomgyu turned his head to your side and observed your naked and tired figure "hey, are you okay?" He asked you and you turned to look at him as well.

That was sweet of him to ask, to say at least.. After all, it's Beomgyu.

"Yeah, you?" You asked and he nodded, lifting himself up to lean on his elbows "I know that now it's really not the right time to say this, especially after we just fucked but umm .. I'm really sorry for all the terrible things I did to you."

Now Beomgyu looked away and your mind was filled with curiosity "I really don't understand, why did you even have to do all these things to me?" You asked him and he sighed, scratching the back of his head.

"I guess .. I just wanted you to notice me, even if it was in a bad way" his bit his lip and fully sat on the bed "I should get going now, I understand if you don't want to see me again after this-" you cut him off and grabbed him by the neck, tugging him down to press your lips against his.

Unlike before, the kiss was soft and gentle, it wasn't rushed. The both of you took your time and you pulled away from him just to whisper in his ear "you're an asshole, you know?".

#txt smut #beomgyu smut #choi beomgyu smut #choi beomgyu needs to be stopped #choi beomgyu #choi beomgyu one shot #txt one shot smut #txt imagine smut #beomgyu enemies to lovers #txt e2l au #tomorrow x together smut #txt beomgyu #finally it's here!!!!!

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cudan2 · 4 years ago

Text

We’re Only Human

Spring Break Shadowing Part 4

Carlisle Cullen x Reader

Word Count: 2,040

Summary: It’s the last day of shadowing with Dr. Cullen, but you’ve come to realize a little more about how you feel towards him. Cue crushes and a little bit of chaos along the way.

A/N: I finished the semester and can actually dedicate time to writing this again because instead of being on spring break, I’m now on winter break. I also chopped this part in half because it was probably going to be over 6,000 words otherwise and that’s just a lot compared to the previous ones. Bear with me, guys. Another note - I’m thinking about posting this on Ao3 but will rewrite it because I don’t know what I was thinking when I wrote this in present tense lol.

Anyways, this is #8 on my headcanon list.

Masterlist

XXX

You don’t know how it happened, but time is on your side and you’re running early this morning. The sun has just risen and casts a warm glow across the hospital as you make you way to the Starbucks, determined to be the one to buy Doctor Cullen his drink for once.

Meeting him here every morning has become a tradition, a tradition that involves him getting you breakfast every day you’ve shadowed him this week. The two of you would chat about various topics while walking to where ever he had to be next. Sometimes you would prod his brain with more medical-related questions, occasionally he would tell stories from his past, but regardless, his every word had you captivated.

Alright, perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to finally admit that you may or may not have developed a tiny crush on Doctor Cullen. To be fair though, this is your last day shadowing him and it’s not like you’re ever going to see him again anyways. You feel a pang of disappointment at the thought, but it soon disappears when Emily greets you at the counter.

“Hi, Y/N! Where’s the doctor today?”

“I was running early today, so I figured I’d grab both of our drinks.” You place your order and ask the barista what Doctor Cullen’s “usual” was.

“Oh that?” she laughs. “He gets boiling water. It’s a little weird, but I just assumed he makes tea with it.”

Boiling... water? You think back to the last several days and try to remember what Doctor Cullen even did with his drink. He definitely never made tea with it. In fact, you don’t think he’s ever taken a sip out of the cup before throwing it away.

“Then I’ll be adding a grande boiled water to my order,” you tell Emily and thank her before she moves on to the next person in line.

You wait to the side for your food and see Jaime standing there too. He’s wearing a backpack and a faded college sweatshirt thrown over his scrubs, and you’re reminded of how many years left of school you have before you can even call yourself a doctor. You wave to him, and he pulls an earbud out from his ear with a sleepy smile.

“Hey, what’s up?” he greets you.

“Nothing much, just grabbing something to eat before the day starts. I’m surprised to see you here though. What happened to morning rounds?”

Jaime lets out what you can only discern as a mix between a hollowed laugh and a groan and tells you about forgetting his coffee at home. “Don’t even get me started on this morning. My car died on me, so I had to get an Uber. Lo and behold, there weren’t any Ubers around either, so ya boy eventually took not just a taxi, but a taxi and the train. By the time I got here, I realized my coffee was still on the counter at home, and so now I’m here.”

Damn, and you thought mornings were rough for you.

“Sorry to hear that! Did you get in trouble for being late?”

“I called Doctor Cullen myself and told him what was happening. He was so understanding, god bless, so I’m in the clear for now.

At the mention of the doctor, your thoughts instantly go back to blond tresses and a brilliant smile you already know you’ll miss when you leave the hospital for the last time today.

“Yeah, he’s pretty great, isn’t he?” you say a little too dreamily. Jaime gives you a knowing look and you rein it back in, hoping you haven’t exposed yourself already.

“You know, I think he’s going to miss you the most when you leave.” You don’t even get the chance to react when Jaime continues on, “Don’t get me wrong, Lily and I will definitely miss having you around, but the man really took a liking to you a lot faster than he did with us.”

“What do you mean?”

“He always kept us at an arm’s length before you came around. All of that personal stuff you get out of him would have taken him weeks to tell us before, and that’s if we’re lucky. He just seems more comfortable around you,” Jaime shrugs. His coffee is then called out, cutting off anything he wanted to say next. “That’s my cue. I’ll see you later!”

You take a moment to mull over what Jaime said. From your perspective, Doctor Cullen has treated you exactly the same way he does with everyone else. You don’t dare to over think what Jaime could be saying – over thinking never leads to anything good. And yet, the damage is done. The seed has been planted and now you can’t help but wonder about what made you stand out to the doctor.

Your own order is called, and you’re pulled from your thoughts with the smell of warm food.

Now armed with two beverages and a pastry bag sandwiched between your fingers, you make your way to a nearby table to wait for Doctor Cullen. Your wait is soon cut short though, as you see him walking towards you out of your peripheral vision. The clouds shift and the sun shines through the windows again. Its golden rays pass over the doctor, and for a second, you swear you could see him shimmering in the sunlight.

You squint strangely and blink a few times. Get it together, you tell yourself. Over thinking is clearly playing some weird psychological tricks on your eyes, and you still needed to be on your A-game.

“Hey you,” he flashes that familiar smile once more when reaching the table you are settled at. “You’re early today.”

“I am. It even gave me the chance to get you your water.” You hand him the cup with a smirk, having made sure to put a sleeve on it earlier because unlike Doctor Cullen, you actually have hands that hold the risk of being burnt.

“Ah, I see Emily has divulged one of my secrets with you. Thank you, Y/N, you really didn’t have to.”

“It’s nothing,” you insist. Seriously, water is free at Starbucks. “Think of it as a small thank you present. It’s the least I could do for the amazing surgeon that let me follow him around for the week.”

“Hmm, I think you may have meant the amazing, extremely kind, highly skilled, and not to mention, quite dashing–”

“Okay! No need to flatter yourself,” you laugh, trying your best to refrain from rolling your eyes. In all honesty, you can’t describe him any better. Add in attractive, intelligent, compassionate, way too humble sometimes, and it would be the perfect recipe to recreate another Doctor Cullen.

From there on, your daily routine at the hospital continues without a hitch. It’s a morning filled with back to back surgeries and question after question thrown at you from the doctor. There is no doubt that he is keeping you on your toes – literally and figuratively. You have to admit though, you are pretty proud of yourself for being able to answer the majority of his questions.

Your feet swing aimlessly while you spin around in a padded chair in Doctor Cullen’s office. Your laptop is open on his desk, displaying a blank document that’s meant to be your personal statement. It has been a little over an hour since he left you here to attend a mandatory meeting and you are starting to get antsy.

Aside from several stacks of files and other various papers, the desk lacks the small trinkets you would expect to see. As a matter of fact, the office itself is surprisingly void of anything personal. There aren’t any pictures of family, friends, pets, not even of a possible wife. There are no decorations on the wall either, and if it weren’t for the leather briefcase leaning against the side of the desk, you’d never believe this office belonged to him. No wonder he spends as much time as possible outside of this dismal room.

As you continue spinning in the chair, you bring up a paper fortune teller made earlier from a sticky note. You choose a color, two subsequent numbers, and flip open the flap to reveal the fortune.

Brunch date with Dr. Cullen.

The things you do to kill time. Your friends would never let you live this down if they could see you now.

Just as you’re about to go another round with the fortune teller, the door opens and Doctor Cullen walks in. The fortune teller goes flying out of your hands and onto the floor next to you as you jump in surprise and halt the spinning.

“Sorry about the wait, Y/N. I’m afraid the meeting took longer than expected,” he says, his words laced with a hint of bitterness. Luckily, he didn’t seem to notice you nearly jumping out of your skin. Not wanting to draw attention to the fortune teller on the floor, you leave it there for now and start packing up your stuff.

“I presume you found a way to entertain yourself?”

“Kind of? I tried starting my personal statement again. It’s really not coming together,” you laugh dryly. Too preoccupied with turning off your laptop and putting it away, you don’t notice that Doctor Cullen walking around to the head of the desk where you are until it’s too late.

Oh crap, the fortune teller. Of course, he just has to notice it too and picks it up with a curious expression. You look up, and he’s standing there with it in his hand.

“Did you make this?”

You leap up from the chair and snatch it out of his hand before he can examine it any closer. There is no way in hell you’re letting him open it.

“Uh, yeah... It’s just something we used to make in elementary school – nothing special!” You try to play it off as cool as possible and slip the fortune teller into the small trash can underneath his desk. “So what’s next on the schedule?”

He takes a moment before answering you. You see his eyes study the way your fingers nervously fidgets with a loose thread on your shirt. He seemingly brushes off the interaction that occurred and responds, “Pre-op. I believe this one will be much different than the others you’ve observed this week.”

“What’s different about it?” you ask. Doctor Cullen starts to leave and holds the door open for you.

“You’ll see.” You don’t have to look at him to know he’s smirking.

He shuts the door and you start walking towards to the surgical department when a hand abruptly pulls you back just a little too hard. You trip over your own feet in the process and in some miraculous, but also really unlucky, sadistic, cruel-of-the-universe sort of way, land in Doctor Cullen’s arms. Goosebumps form up your arms where he’s holding you, and you can’t tell whether it’s from the temperature difference or the fact that your face is only an inch away from his chest.

You are absolutely mortified to say the least. Heat begins crawling up your cheeks and if there was a witness, they would have seen you quite literally jump out of the doctor’s arms.

“I’m so sorry, Doctor Cullen! I didn’t mean to trip and fall and–”

“No, no, please, Y/N. It was of no fault of yours. I admit, I wholly underestimated the extent of my strength in that moment.” You stare at him, still dismayed at what happened, but it seems you aren’t the only one feeling like a deer in the headlights. “Can you find it in yourself to forgive me?” he asks, smiling meekly.

“It’s fine, these things happen. We’re only human after all, right?”

“...Right.” There’s a moment of silence that goes on for longer than you prefer, and you can’t help but feel like you’re the punchline of some inside joke. You don’t dwell on it though. There’s really only so much social embarrassment you can handle in one day. “Now, if there aren’t any more near-accidents,” he points in the opposite direction and says, “we’re headed to the children’s hospital.”

Oh.

#carlisle cullen #carlisle cullen x reader #carlisle cullen imagine #twilight imagines #twilight fanfiction #twilight saga #twilight #twilight renessaince #twilight revival #twilight reboot #it's like 3:30 am #school ended but my sleep schedule still sucks #maybe it's cause I still feel the need to be productive #the next part is the one i struggled with for the last 7 months #which is why i just chopped the part in half #ugh i jsut have to get through the next part and ill be in the home stretch #the quality of my writing really declines when i have to write actual plot LMAO #doctor daddy cullen #twilight renaissance

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hetalia-has-a-secretary · 3 years ago

Note

allies + eje human au headcanons

I had to look up what eje meant, which was Axis in Spanish 🌮 (there's no sombrero emoji, and I'm mad about it). This is mostly a college Human AU, but there's still some future stuff in there. Enjoy the longest list of Headcannons in one post lol

Human AU Hetalia!

Allies:

America:

Has rich parents, but doesn't tell anyone, and somehow his big house that everyone parties at doesn't give it away.

The only person who knows is Japan, and that's specifically because Japan's dad works for America's dad.

Is a college student, hoping to go for some kind of music degree.

A first year.

Black T-shirt and jeans. Has a plaid button up for everyday of the month, usually has it tied around his hips.

Has like, one basic tux and refuses to wear anything but converse or airwalkers.

Space nerd #1, except he's more into what's beyond our boundaries, and loves the constellations.

One of the most popular kids, and no matter how hard you try he's not easy to hate.

Gives off dumb college kid energy even though he's one of the A+ students.

His glasses are for show. It was meant to be a rebellious thing since Canada use to get bullied about his own glasses, now it's just an esthetic.

Skate boards and plays the acoustic guitar in his free time.

Jeans are usually missing the knee section.

Once set off firecrackers in a metal trash can as a school prank.

England:

Last year of college, majoring in history after failing his cooking classes.

Graphic tee central. We are unsure how many he has but he's up to 43 different shirts worn on campus.

Usually has his earbuds in, listening to punk rock.

Has an ungodly amount of bracelets. His favorite one is a black snap bracelet with little pirate skulls.

Was practically raised by his older brothers.

Lives alone, but is secretly an amazing writer.

Has a Tumblr blog he writes spooky stuff on.

Top of his class, but can be a dummy if he's put on the spot.

France:

No one is sure how he's been allowed to take nothing but art classes. No English, or science, just art.

Is also a transfer student, he's probably the second richest thanks to daddy.

Is the school stud, despite not sleeping with a single soul, and is actually extremely nervous about dating, and is just more comfortable with playful flirting.

He wants to be a fashion designer, or Model. Mostly a Designer.

Loose shirts and tight pants.

Has a weird obsession with belt sashes.

Plays violin like a god, and is a senior.

China:

Another senior in college.

Had the unfortunate event of being in the same cooking class as England before Arthur decided to switch degrees.

Still hangs out with him and Japan.

One of the few who is taking advanced classes, and is literally everyone's tutor.

Going for a Degree in Cooking. Wants to be a head chef.

His parents are over seas, but he promised to get them to America as soon as he can.

He wears a lot of colorful shirts that is always tucked into his pants.

Most of which look like bowling shirts, but he likes to add little Chinese patches to them. Has a signature jean jacket that is overwhelmed with patches.

Has a panda beenie baby keychain, so everyone knows exactly who it belongs to when he losses his keys.

Very quick to panic, and hates to admit he's wrong.

Russia:

Third and final transfer student, along with Japan, and France.

Poor confused child is trying so hard.

He's kind of shy, and is fully aware his social akwardness creeps everyone out.

Almost cried the day America and Prussia adopted him into the cool kid circle.

His broken english is probably the biggest turn off for the people at school. It's why no one really talks to him, mostly because they can't figure out what he's saying most of the time.

Biggest sweetheart though, and is painfully smart, but do to the english thing he's stuck in the average classes, but China comes swooping in and his english gets almost fluent by his third year.

He doesn't own a single thing tech, minus a flip phone, but somehow knows all the hot keys on the computer to every program, and it's only because he's lazy about it and it's the funniest thing.

Space nerd #2 but knows more about the planets and can name every single moon, and knows the history of space discoveries by heart.

Secretly a hopeless romantic, and doesn't realize he reads England's blog.

Is pretty much a closet goth, but likes bright colors too much to be seen in all black.

Knows way to much about torture devices and learned very quickly that gets you out casted in a school setting.

Isn't upset that he doesn't have many friends, but somehow attracts all the little kids from the grade school.

He likes his northface sweater, and loose pants. But his shirts are pretty colorful, and he likes collecting shoelaces.

He spends a lot of time in the woodwork shop, creating amazing figures and such.

Canada:

I can feel the dissapointed stares of Matt not being a photographer. Welp, guess he also gets a degree in art then.

Second year, Because he skipped one year in college.

Clothing style is long sleeves and vests.

He likes feeling fancy, and owns an endless amount of beanies.

One of the few people who talks to Russia.

His locker has a snot ton of polar bear stickers that everyone stuck to it, and he loves it.

Is baby but can kick butt in the wrestling club after school.

Has a tiny white Pomeranian that he rescued from it's mother who wouldn't take care of it, probably because the puppy was the runt of the litter.

Has a Harley Davidson and it's been painted black with the aurora on it, making everyone think it was his non-existent girlfriend's or something. Now it's a running joke.

Axis:

Germany:

He's not a jock, but he's friends with them.

Military Dad.

Is usually found hanging out in the gymnasium on breaks. It's quiet and no one is going to bother him. Usually.

Senior, and so ready to get the heck out of college.

Ladies love him, but he really hates the attention, like please help him.

Style wise he's pretty basic, but really loves his camo print.

Has owned countless doggos, and only attracted so many girls the day he walked to school with a fluffy poodle that France Hijacked for the day.

Doesn't ever go to dances after the first one and everyone tried to get him drunk, to no avail.

Had out drank some of the dumber students to shut them up.

Can be mean if you persistently pester him for dumb stuff, especially if he's already said no.

He's into construction and is working on a degree in Construction Management.

Japan:

Exchange student number 3

Degree in technology is what he desires.

Style = Geek, but like a stylish geek.

Him and Canada are in photography class together.

Japan is also part of the cool kids, but only when they're about to do some dumb stunt, and need a camera man.

Doesn't mind, loves watching them make fools of themselves.

Has a rebellious streak, and tends to be a complete sass.

As soon as something seems to go bad, he gone. He's heading towards the door. Been in detention once, and that was it.

Why does everyone go to him for advice when china is literally down the hall?

Rich kid #3 and his parents are traditional and are having a crisis over their son's rebellious attitude.

Italy:

Is a first year, and is oddly enough, going for a degree in history.

Really likes antiques and old artsy stuff.

Has a few shared classes with France, and they pretty much own those classes.

Rivals America's charisma, but isn't as popular due to:

Being seen around France, and not doing dumb and entertaining crap like america.

Gets picked on a lot Because he doesn't understand you can't be nice to the Jock's girlfriend without everyone thinking your flirting, even though you just needed directions on your first day of school.

Germany is now his bodyguard and he was kind of like "???" But they get closer the longer they hangout.

Fancy shirt man, like hand me downs from his Italian father. So they're really nice, and a lot of eye melting patterns.

Gets attached to people easily, and is sensitive when he gets taken advantage of during assignments, but toughs through it because he has too.

Has two cats literally named Mona, and Lisa.

Has cried at least once at school because he's a soft guy, but he gets a thicker shell the older he gets and learns to just laugh off other people's stupidity.

Romano:

Protective older brother gooooo

Second year in school, and his first year made him want to eat brinks.

Doesn't know what degree he wants, but settled for a degree in cooking.

Shares his brother's shirts practically and it confuses everyone Because, didn't Feliciano wear that shirt last week?

Immediately thinks people don't know washing machines exist Because of this, so his sass factor is high up there.

Doesn't really have friends, and also does not care. He's a bit of a lone wolf and needed something to do.

The amount of not caring attitude contrasts his high grades and his teachers are painfully confused by it.

Will jokingly tell people to fight him at McDonald's, and almost fought someone but literally laughed, and suggested they got something to eat instead.

He's somehow, in a bizarre and unwanted sense, everyone's brother which is just...

No one understands him, but they like him, and he doesn't know why and it kind of bugs him.

He's usually in the front of the school daydreaming about, god only knows what...

Is the epitomy of the "she doesn't even go here" joke from mean girls, except he does go to that school.

Why did he need a degree? Oh yeah, Because work places don't care what kind of paper, you just need a paper.

Prussia:

Rival friendship with america, and Russia has had to step in to break up petty fights.

He's not sure why he's part of the popular kids since he's so fricken chaotic and obnoxious. Or so he thinks.

Genuinely a sweet guy in his last year, desperately wanting a degree in mathematics. Like, no one understands why mathematics until he starts pulling card tricks from his pocket that deals with it, and blows everyone's mind.

He is also head of the newspaper club.

Has the style of a teenage band member and will not apologize for it.

Has hijacked the schools speaker system to blast evanescence, which gave a huge boost to his friendship with Russia, since the big fellow shares Prussia's taste in music.

Can eat a whole ghost pepper without batting an eyelash, and this is only Headcannon and a worthy note because he became sick the day after and the whole school had "in loving memory of Gilbert's stomach" posters all over the place.

Teacher's are very much done with his harmless antics. They're noticably stupid pranks, but only to the point it's annoying.

Like he managed to make all the teacher's computer backgrounds as Brad Pitt wearing a sombrero. There's no joke, and no punchline. It's just a poorly Photoshopped sombrero?

Races his brother to school every morning, and afternoon. Cops have stopped them at least twice due to other bystanders getting freaked out.

Him and Romano don't mix well, but try to leave each other alone.

#hetalia american #hetalia england #hetalia france #hetalia china #hetalia russia #hetalia canada #hetalia germany #hetalia italy #hetalia japan #hetalia romano #hetalia prussia #hetalia #hws #hetalia world stars #aph #human au

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annabethy · 4 years ago

Text

under the mistletoe, watching the fire glow: day 5

Character A and Character B are co-workers, but they barely know each other. But they both have to work through the holidays,, percabeth

Annabeth finds herself staring out the window in front of her desk instead of doing any actual work. She’s been trying to pay attention to the glowing computer in front of her, but she’s accepted the fact that it’s not going to be happening tonight.

She’s too entranced by the snow that is falling outside. It’s a magical sight on Christmas Eve, with the colorful lights of Central Park that she can see from out the window, and the families moving around together. She’s always loved living in the city, but days like this make her fall in love with it all over again.

Her attention is brought back to inside the building as someone coughs. It brings her mood back down as she is reminded that she’s stuck here on the one night that she wants to be home. She didn’t have to work, but she was already struggling to get by and really needed the money.

She sighs, looking back at her computer. She’s not entirely sure what report she’s writing up, but she supposes she has all night to figure it out, and–

Someone coughs again, much more insistent, and she stiffens. The last thing she needs is to get sick, but the coughing persists from right behind her.

She turns in her chair slowly, eyes seeking out them out. She finds a guy she recognizes staring at her from the desk behind her, and she blinks. “Do you need something?”

His mouth drops slightly. “Uh– no.”

With that, she tries to turn back around, but then he seems to choke on his own air.

“What?”

He searches for words, but then all he can come up with is, “I’m bored.” “I’m sorry?” Annabeth is only slightly annoyed, but she is much more amused now because he’s looking at her pleadingly, but she doesn’t have the slightest clue as to what he’s asking her.

“I really don’t want to work anymore,” he says. His green eyes seem to stare into her soul, and it reminds her of the lights right outside the window in front of her. She is tempted to look back outside, to see if his eyes were brighter than the lights, but she restrains. “I get that,” she says, “but I don’t see what you want me to do.”

“Come steal snacks from the break room with me.”

“And get fired? No thanks.”

“There’s like five people here, and none of them care.”

“Do you even know me?”

He shrugs. “I know you’re least likely to kill me out of everyone here. They all have, like, kids and families so they won’t have fun. But it’s Christmas! Do you know what that means?”

“No.”

“It means we have to drink all the eggnog and get drunk, so come on.”

He doesn’t leave her much time to consider it before he’s hopping out of his chair and walking down the quiet corridors. Annabeth is smart enough to know that it’s probably not the smartest idea to get drunk at work, but if she doesn’t get caught, then she’s fine. And if she does get caught, it means she can quit this job that causes her physical pain. There’s no losing, she figures, so she gets out of her own chair, lightly chasing after him.

She catches up as he’s rounding a corner, and she looks around at the empty desks, one or two with people looking as miserable as she’s sure she looked. It’s kind of creepy working so late because the lights are all off, the only things glowing being people’s computers. It all has an eerie vibe to it, and if she wasn’t with this person she still doesn’t know the name of, she would not be caught dead walking around by herself.

He leads her into a breakroom on another floor, flicking the lights on. She blinks as her pupils adjust, and then she’s standing there as he goes to pull something out of the fridge.

He holds it up above his head like he is about to sacrifice it to the gods. “Eggnog!”

She just nods slowly. “You brought alcohol to work.”

“It’s not possible to do this job without being wasted,” he says.

“I do.”

“I’m sure your life is miserable.”

Well, he isn’t wrong.

He begins to pour the drink into two separate paper cups that she’s sure the company picked up from the dollar store. As he hands it to her, she has to say she doesn’t think she’s ever seen people drink out of paper cups. And as she sits onto the couch beside him that is pushed up against the wall, she is reminded that she still doesn’t know his name.

She takes a deep gulp of the eggnog. “What even is your name?”

“I’m not sure I should tell you. You might tell the boss I get drunk at work.”

She rolls her eyes.

“I’m Percy. Please don’t report me.”

“I’m Annabeth. I’m going to report you.”

Percy just gives her a lopsided smile, like he can sense the lie. “Seeing as you’re going to get drunk with me, I think I can report you back.”

“Hm.”

They fall into a silence just long enough for it to become awkward. While she doesn’t hate him, she still doesn’t know him either, and there is not anything she can think to say in this moment. Instead of speaking, she takes this time to look at him. His eyes are trained on something in the distance, so she gets to take in his face, his hair, his torso without judgement. She finds that she quite likes what meets her eyes.

“So,” Percy starts, turning his attention back to her. She quickly averts her eyes. She doesn’t know if he caught her staring, but he doesn’t say anything if he did. “How’s life?”

She snorts, taking another sip. “Not great.” “That’s simply not an acceptable answer. It’s Christmas, so life must be spectacular.”

“You caught me. I’m just faking my awful life. I’m secretly rich and am only speaking to a peasant like you to blend in.”

He touches over his heart. “How sweet.”

“Unlike this eggnog,” she says, lifting it to her nose like she was an eggnog connoisseur. “What did you put in this?”

“I’m not sure, to be honest. I just put enough of every drink ever so that when you blackout, you see God.”

“Oh.” She shrugs, gulping down the rest. “Sounds good.”

Percy smiles, and she suddenly feels the rush of heat down her back. She isn’t sure if it’s from the alcohol taking quick effect or something else. She holds out the cup for a refill and brings it back to her lips.

“Careful,” he says, “Drink too much and it really will knock you right out.”

“At least you’re here with me to get caught by D in the morning.”

“Serious question. Do we know what D stands for?”

“Dick?” she offers.

“Yes.”

Annabeth shakes her head fondly as she kicks off her shoes so that she can curl her socked feet underneath her. Despite the heat that has been trickling down her spine each time he gives her a look, the building is actually really cold. She shivers slightly, and Percy frowns.

“Are you cold?”

“Only a tiny bit,” she lies.

Percy sets down his drink like it was his prized possession before he pulls his sweater over his head. He doesn’t even give her time to protest before he’s chucking it at her.

“This is your jacket,” she says, tossing it back.

“I’m not cold,” he says, shoving it back to her.

“You’re seriously going to let a stranger wear your jacket?”

“We’re hardly strangers now, Annabeth. We’re best friends.”

“Oh, wow. That’s a big jump.”

“Yes, well, we’re drinking eggnog on Christmas together, so.” With that, Percy pouts his lower lip. “Please put it on?”

He looks so cute like that that she can’t resist. She gives Percy her drink to hold as she wrestles it on, and she nearly sighs in its warmth. She can still feel the body heat from Percy, and it’s surprisingly not as weird as she would’ve thought. It smells really good too, reminding her of the breeze at a beach, of a stormy night, and now, of him.

“Better?” he asks smugly.

She pulls the sleeves to over her fingers. “Shut up.”

“So, Annabeth, tell me about yourself.” He nudges her knee with his foot. “Why are you working overnight on Christmas?”

She shrugs. “Needed the money.”

“No one to go home to?”

“Other than family I’d rather not see? No.”

He gives her a sympathetic glance. “No one special?”

“You mean an extraordinarily sexy, funny, smart husband?” She laughs incredulously. “Absolutely not.”

“Today’s your lucky day! I know just the person for you. They check off all of those qualities.”

“Who?” she asks, disbelieving. “Me!”

She blows a raspberry in his face.

“Okay, I have to admit I’m not the smartest person out there, but I do think I’m not totally ugly.”

He’s not totally ugly. Quite the opposite, in Annabeth’s opinion. She’d never tell him that though.

“Worst comes to worst, you can always marry me.”

“What? You don’t think I can be one of those Hallmark characters who find the love of their life on Christmas?”

“Newsflash baby, we are those Hallmark characters. Meeting on Christmas Eve, working until Christmas day? Love story if I’ve ever seen one.”

She looks at him skeptically.

“Fine,” he says. “Let’s make one of those pacts. If we’re both still single by, I don’t know, midnight? Then we marry each other.”

She looks at the clock on her phone. “You’re giving me one hour to find the love of my life before I’m forced to resort to you?”

“Yes. That’s plenty of time.”

“Sure,” she says, laughing.

“I mean, you’re already wearing my sweater. If that doesn’t make you wife material, I don’t know what does. Besides, it wouldn’t be terrible to marry me. I know you like my body.”

The looks he’s giving her lets her know that he did see her staring at him earlier. She smacks his arm. “You asshole.”

“What?” he says defensively, rubbing his forearm.

“Why didn’t you say anything!?”

“It didn’t bother me! Besides, I think you’re, like, really attractive too!”

She leans back. “So that’s why you want to marry me in an hour? So no one swoops in and steals the love of your life?”

“Precisely.”

Annabeth quickly learns she likes talking to Percy. He’s so easy to get along with, and he’s constantly getting her to laugh so hard she can’t breathe. He’s also really sweet and selfless, and he looks amazing in the midnight haze, and as they slowly both get closer and closer to being totally wasted, it just gets better.

She has no idea how she never knew his name before now because they’re practically best friends already. She feels like she’s known him her entire life. It’s so natural and perfect, the tense feeling long gone.

At some point, Percy falls over her, squishing her into the cushions of the couch. Her drink falls somewhere out of her hand, but that’s okay because she’s already half a bottle deep, and she’d much rather hold him in her arms anyways. Her fingers trace over the lean muscles of his back as he dies of laughter in the crook of her neck. She also quickly learns that Percy’ love language is touch, especially when he’s drunk. He’s an affectionate person, which is good because he balances her out perfectly.

Percy’s weight drops completely as he gives up on holding himself up. She isn’t sure how long they spend like that, sprawled out on top of one another, but she doesn’t care. This is a carefully constructed Christmas feeling she is too scared to destroy.

At some point though, she looks down to check the time on her phone.

11:59

She pokes Percy in the neck to get him to stop chucking into the cushions, and she waits until the clock strikes twelve. When it does, she’s lacing her fingers in his hair so she can pull him up to look her in the eyes.

“Hey, pretty boy,” she giggles, “It’s twelve.”

“Merry Christmas!” he yells a bit too loudly.

She’s laughing so hard that it comes out silent, and she can’t breathe. “No!”

“Oh! You mean the whole marriage thing?”

“Yes, silly,” she says.

Percy’s head drops back to the couch cushions. “So did you find the love of your life, or do you have to settle for me?”

“I think I may have found the love of my life,” she says.

Percy whines into the couch miserably.

“I’d hardly call it settling, though,” is what she says, and Percy’s head suddenly jumps back to meet her eyes.

Percy’s eyes flicker down to her lips, and she wants it so badly. She doesn’t care that they just met because this one hour with him has been better than the past twenty years of her life spent with anyone else.

So she whispers, “You may now kiss the bride,” and Percy takes her breath away.

#percabeth #percy jackson #annabeth chase #pjo #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #my writing

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looniecartooni · 3 years ago

Text

@hawkasss‘s “Extremely Detailed Character Chart” applied to Tyki Mikk from D Gray Man-

Character Chart

Character’s full name: Tyki Mikk

Reason or meaning of name: “First Man” and “One who is like God?” possibly signifying his deeper connection with the Millenium Earl

Character’s nickname: Tyki-pon by The Millenium Earl

Reason for nickname: Not very clear. Kind of a silly “pet” name or close friend name. He isn’t much of a fan of it and it was only used once.

Birth date: December 25th, same as the main character’s adoption date

Physical appearance

Age: 27

How old does he/she appear: Definitely in his twenties

Weight: 150 lbs (currently)

Height: 6ft 2

Body build: Fairly muscular, but pretty average

Shape of face: Round, kind of a pointed chin

Eye color: Gold like most Noah

Glasses or contacts: When in his human form he wears glasses he found in the trash to hide his eyes and face mole. Doesn’t appear to need them though.

Skin tone: Usually pale, but became more tan after the showdown on the ark. In Noah form (depending on the interpretation) dark tan or gray

Distinguishing marks: Left eye has a tiny mole under it. Also has scars on his body.

Predominant features: Curly hair, large smile

Hair color: Black

Type of hair: Uhh... short? For a while it was long. Mostly straight, but has a bit of a curl to it

Hairstyle: In his Noah form, usually pushed back leaving a large bushel of hair going down the back of his head. When his hair is long, he likes to tie it back or in a side ponytail

Voice: Not too deep, quite sexy for a chain smoker

Overall attractiveness: Very attractive. He was made to be attractive and succeeded both in the story and in the fandom’s eyes

Physical disabilities: Can’t be on his feet for too long after the ark incident

Usual fashion of dress: Tends to dress in scruffy work clothes with overalls when he’s human and in a fancy Victorian suit with a top hat and one of those weird scarf things I forgot the name of, but that’s sometimes replaced by a back tie

Favorite outfit: I’d say he likes the work clothes or just a plain shirt and pants

Jewelry or accessories: Has been seen wearing earrings on several occasions. He also carries a deck of cards to play poker when he wants. His body is also full of robotic, flesh eating butterflies

Personality

Good personality traits: Kind, helpful, gets concerned when someone he knows is in trouble (whether or not they’re his enemy), friendly to everyone, understanding mostly to people’s situations

Bad personality traits: Murderous intent, can snap when provoked the wrong way, able to be a bit too charming when he’s ready to attack, likes to scam people in poker

Mood character is most often in: He’s usually pretty calm and chill. He smiles a lot, but has a pretty chill demeanor. He get bothered by others a lot though so he tends to look bothered a lot too. He is also notoriously known for being confused all the time on many of the story elements that have yet to be explained

Sense of humor: Not really sure. He laughs when he’s nervous or excited. Perhaps when things don’t play out how he thought they would or when there’s irony in a situation

Character’s greatest joy in life: Being able to live a double life as a Noah and a human

Character’s greatest fear: Losing his sense of self to his Noah side probably

Why? What single event would most throw this character’s life into complete turmoil?: If he lost the ability to keep having a human side and no longer live a double life which may have already began to happen

Character is most at ease when: He’s in control, doing things right, understanding a situation, or hanging out with friends

Most ill at ease when: He’s losing or disappointing the Earl or something doesn’t seem safe. Or when people don’t listen to him

Enraged when: He isn’t able to get a task done

Depressed or sad when: He doesn’t know how to help the Earl

Priorities: Serve the Millenium Earl, eat fish, hang with friends, and play poker

Life philosophy: Life is more entertaining when there is two sides to it

If granted one wish, it would be: Probably to maintain control over his Noah side

Why? : Because he likes the ability to be a human too. He doesn’t want to lose that

Character’s soft spot: People missing their friends, people in pain, or needing time to themselves. Also his friend Eez. I also saw him kissing one of his butterflies once. He’s also concerned about the Earl’s feelings (and possibly others too)

Is this soft spot obvious to others?- Road and the Earl both notice his love for humans and wanting to hang with his friends, but mostly just acknowledge it and leave it be. His brother we learn about later doesn’t appear to be very understanding of Tyki’s love for living with street people and not preferring just to be of the upper-class of society.

Greatest strength: His kind heart and ability to observe

Greatest vulnerability or weakness: His obliviousness and anger

Biggest regret: Not killing the main character back when he was supposed to

Minor regret: Losing to the main character in a game of poker where the main character cheated

Biggest accomplishment: Telling the main character not to let the monsters inside of him control him. He has to be the one to show them who he wants to be. Not sure if it helped or he sees it as an accomplishment, but it was some pretty wise words for someone who seemed to be destined to be controlled by warring forces for the rest of his possibly short life.

Minor accomplishment: Getting out of doing Road’s homework that time he was given the task to kill the main character

Past failures he/she would be embarrassed to have people know about: Not killing Allen

Why?- People made fun of him for it and it made him look like a failure

Character’s darkest secret: He lives a double life

Does anyone else know?- It appears the Noah are well aware of it

Goals

Drives and motivations: Being able to see his friends again, protecting the Millenium Earl, poker, and food

Immediate goals: Capture “the Noah reaper”, keep the 14th Noah away from the Earl while figuring out who he is, and find out who Mana is

Long term goals: Keep the Earl safe and find out who the 14th and Mana are while maintaining control

How the character plans to accomplish these goals: Unsure. Probably by interrogation of other characters and more fighting.

How other characters will be affected: The Earl wants to see the 14th and the truth may be the thing that breaks him or the main character.

Past

Hometown: Somewhere in Portugal probably

Type of childhood: Most likely on the streets as an orphan, but we still don’t have any back story

Pets: Unknown

First memory: Unknown

Most important childhood memory: Unknown

Why: We don’t have a backstory yet!!!

Childhood hero: Probably the Millennium Earl. It’s implied he was taken in at a young age

Dream job: Anything as long as there’s food and he’s with his friends

Education: Never went to school, but was supposedly tutored by the Earl and helps with Road’s homework. He did learn how to write somewhere

Religion: Catholic most likely, given the story and who he’s with, but I could be wrong

Finances: Living by minimum Victorian lower-class wage or the Earl’s money (along with probably scammed poker items)

Present

Current location: His brother’s house maybe

Currently living with: Not really sure. Haven’t seen him with his friends, but we have seen him at his brother’s house a lot. His brother might have him trapped there

Pets: His brother has a dog

Religion: Whatever the Noah believe

Occupation: He was a miner with his friends. Not sure if that’s changed.

Finances: Brother or Earl’s money probably

Family

Mother: Unknown Relationship with her: Seriously Unknown

Father: Does the Earl count?

Relationship with him: He likes the Earl. Kind of scared and impressed with him. Occasionally embarrassed by him

Siblings: Older brother

Relationship with them: Tolerated to a degree, but tends to feel uncomfortable around him for... reasons. They do talk and I think have a form of care. They don’t quite understand eachother though

Spouse: None Relationship with him/her: Nothing yet

Children: He has a friend who is a child

Relationship with them: Tyki gets along with Teez pretty well, as well as his niece Road. His nephew can get annoying sometimes but he still cares for him.

Other important family members: Yet to be revealed

Favorites

Color: Image color is light blue and he has a light blue shirt so... Light blue? Maybe magenta or purple because of his butterflies, but that might be more of what the Earl likes. Wears a lot of black...

Least favorite color: Hasn’t expressed any hate for color that I know of

Music: Not sure

Food: Anything he eats with his friends, but he has a particular fondness for fish

Literature: Doesn’t read a lot

Form of entertainment: Poker, fishing, and hanging out with friends

Expressions: Eagerness???

Mode of transportation: Trains perhaps? So he can scam people- heheh... Might be the Ark though as he uses it pretty frequently. Probably more convenient

Most prized possession: Not entirely sure

Habits

Hobbies: Poker, fishing, and napping. He also likes collecting people he kills’s buttons and giving them to Teez

Plays a musical instrument? Be kind of fun if he did

Plays a sport? Fishing is a sport

How he/she would spend a rainy day: Playing poker, fishing (he definately would if it was pouring too), probably hanging out with friends or Noah family. Maybe take a nap

Spending habits: Food related probably

Smokes: Chain smoker

Drinks: He’s appeared to have drank Wine once or twice, but not really that often

Other drugs: I think he gets high on life and fighting

What does he/she do too much of?: Smoke, creative organ removing techniques

What does he/she do too little of?: Proper analying of sitations

Extremely skilled at: Combat, poker, fishing, and murder

Extremely unskilled at: Homework, defeating a 16 year old

Nervous tics: Puts hand on his face, chuckles

Usual body posture: Slups over when he’s relaxed, but actually keeps pretty good posture (probably instilled in him by the Earl and his brother)

Mannerisms: Calm, confidence, easy going

Peculiarities: You feel at ease around him which also makes you feel uneasy because you just know, even though he’s nice or acting nice, he most likely has something up his sleeve.

Traits

Optimist or pessimist?: Optimist. Seems to believe he has the high ground or people will comply to what he offers

Introvert or extrovert? Introvert. Likes to be alone or with a small group of individuals. Also not a fan of people being clingy (he’s like a cat. Don’t go to him, let him come to you)

Daredevil or cautious? Daredevil with a sense of caution. He doesn’t always think things through, but he does keep his guard up mostly. When he lets his guard down, bad things happen

Logical or emotional? Emotional. Worries about peoples feelings and does what makes him excited. Doesn’t always use logic, but he likes a good challenge

Disorderly and messy or methodical and neat? Disorderly I think

Prefers working or relaxing? Relaxing

Confident or unsure of himself/herself? Mostly confident, but he has been unsure on himself and situations before. When he’s too confident, he’s most vulnerable

Animal lover? Seems like one

Self-perception

How he/she feels about himself/herself: Seems to like their life

One word the character would use to describe self: Interesting

One paragraph description of how the character would describe self: I doubt he’d want to write a paragraph about it

What does the character consider his/her best personality trait?: His charm

What does the character consider his/her worst personality trait?: His cluelessness or lack of perception

What does the character consider his/her best physical characteristic?: His “choose” ability

What does the character consider his/her worst physical characteristic?: Not sure. His hair being too long? Or being “handsome”? Kind of seems to be bothered by that.

How does the character think others perceive him/her: Trustworthy or lazy

What would the character most like to change about himself/herself: Probably how he looks. He already managed to get a hair cut and straighter hair

Relationships with others

Opinion of other people in general: He’s clueless but handsome and interesting

Does the character hide his/her true opinions and emotions from others? Sometimes, but seems pretty expressive in a simplistic sense. That was hindered a little by becoming a Noah

Person character most hates: Apocrypos and possibly the 14th

Best friend(s): Eez, Momo, and Clark

Love interest(s): None that have appeared so far

Person character goes to for advice: Road

Person character feels responsible for or takes care of: Eez, The Millenium Earl, occasionally the main character, seems to instinctually know how to handle his brother, the Earl when he feels like he made him upset, whoevr puts him under pressure

Person character feels shy or awkward around: his brother when said brother is upset

Person character openly admires: His friends and The Earl

Person character secretly admires: I think he’s secretly impressed by the main character’s tenacity, but I could be wrong (no- I do not ship them)

Most important person in character’s life before story starts: His friends and The Earl

After story starts: The Earl and figuring out who the 14th is

#d gray man #boy that took a long time!#dgm tyki #tyki mikk

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