#it was super hot over the weekend so I thought 'hey time to draw a building in the desert' hehe | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

henry-and-the-seven-lords · 4 years ago

Text

Hello @gluttonousfruit you are in fact my first request. (I did not forget about you in moving my blog.) I am super excited to have anyone ask me to write something! Also I would love to be friends! Feel free to message me through asks or in private DMs! I hope you enjoy the imagine!

Warnings: Fluff with a small amount of angst because Levi doubts himself 😞

Brothers Masterlist | Dateables Masterlist

Levi with an Animator S/O

"Okay MC, I know we just finished 'Swimming Only Leads to Hot Mermaids,' but I was thinking since we are already watching otomes, we should watch another series that everyone is recommending online!" Levi says this as he begins to pull out one DVD and place in another while bouncing on the balls of his feet like an excited puppy.

"I guess I could watch one more series, but it better be a good one. Sure the mermaids were attractive, but there wasn't much of a plot." MC says with a yawn. A quick look over to the clock, and it reads 11:48 PM in a blinding blue light. Not too late for one of Levi's normal bingefests, but a little too late for MC when they have classes tomorrow.

"No, I promise this one is good. Everyone is talking about the art style. They say it is so original that it's captivating." Levi walks to the small futon briskly and plops himself down next to MC as he continues to ramble about the art. His voice slowly trails off as the opening begins to play.

As the music fills MC's ears, they perk up and a small smile appears on their face. "Levi, could this perhaps be, 'I Went to Hell For a Weekend and Got Stuck in a Love Heptagon with Seven Incubi'?"

Levi faces MC in shock. The look on their face is quite smug. (In all seriousness, it reminds Levi of Mammon when he wins poker, but he doesn't want to be think about his brother while looking at MC. So he pushes that thought away.) This anime came out only the day before their bingefest. And even then, Levi had this copy pre-ordered for this very occasion and it arrived before any stores were selling physical copies. There is no way a normie like MC could have heard about its release. Does this mean MC isn't such a normie after all?

"You heard of this show already?" The surprise in his voice was impossible to hide.

"Yeah, I have heard of it." MC smiles and chuckles quietly, "I have never actually seen it, but I have heard the opening quite a few times."

"Oh..." Levi sighs. He was so stupid. Of course MC had heard the opening. It is all over his Devilgram and they were on their phone for part of the last show, so they obviously just heard it on there. Levi deflates looking solemn. It was just a pipe dream that MC would ever be interested in his yucky otaku interests.

"Hey! There is no reason to be all sad just because I know the name of the show. I still haven't seen the whole thing. My first time watching will still be with you Levi, isn't that special enough?" The smile on MC's face seemed sincere enough, but the words that came out of their mouth made blood rush up to Levi's cheeks. Their first... did they really mean to say it like that?...

As thoughts begin to flood Leviathan's head the show began. It was true the art style was captivating. So captivating in fact, that he forgot about his embarrassment. But MC's words still lingered in his mind as he watched the show.

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

"Well, I am dead tired." MC stands cracking their aching joints as they look at the clock. 2:37 AM. It was that late already? "I think I need to head to bed Levi. I have classes in the morning and I need at least a few hours of sleep."

"Are you sure?" Levi was just starting to enjoy MC's presence. At the beginning of the night, he was on edge trying to make everything perfect. Levi did want to mess up by being a yucky Otaku and give them a reason to leave him all alone. But as the night progressed, (and more snacks were consumed) he felt increasingly more comfortable with sharing his favorite shows with MC. "I have other shows we could watch to pass the time, or we could play this new game I got-"

MC walks over to Levi and gently sets their hands on his shoulders, "Games and anime are great, but what I need right now is sleep." MC watched as Levi's face filled with a blush and his eyes flashed with hurt. "I am not leaving because I am mad... or sad... or anything really. I just need to sleep, Leviathan." Their voice was barely above a whisper as they said his name. How could he disagree with them when they said his name like that; all the while, looking deep into his eyes. He felt like he could explode.

As MC turns away, the demon in question then sighs mutters a quiet "okay" under his breath. "Don't worry, Levi. This isn't the last time I will watch anime with you. I promise we can do another one of these when another new anime comes out." MC begins to pick up their things. A blanket they brought with them to keep warm in Levi's cold room and the rest of their human snacks. "Besides, I really liked that one, and I have heard they are already making season two." As they speak, MC makes their way across the room to the gigantic tank.

"Wait. How do you-"

"Good night Henry. Good night Levi." And with that, MC leaves. Closing the door behind them.

How did MC know about a second season? Even he, the Great Otaku Levi, has not heard about a season two on any forums or on any other website... After thinking about it, Levi suspects it's probably on Devilgram like the opening was. To prove his theory, he pulls out his D.D.D. and opens up Devilgram to the 'I Went to Hell For a Weekend and Got Stuck in a Love Heptagon with Seven Incubi' page. He scrolls through their posts and finds the opening, like he predicted, but what he didn't predict was their most recent post.

"This show would not have been possible without MC. Thank you for making such a great story and great art to go along with it!"

Levi reads the caption once, twice, thrice and is speechless. The photo for this post is none other than his MC standing with a hand drawn piece of the protagonist. He can even see their signature in the corner when he zooms in! He knew that they liked to draw, but he never thought they would make an anime.

Without thinking, Levi gets up and begins to run to MC's room. He needs to know that this isn't some sort of elaborate prank that MC and Satan brewed up to make him like a normie more.

The door to MC's room busts open, "MC!" The room is completely dark except for the light shining in through the doorway.

"Levi...? Is that you? Is something wrong?" MC's voice is soft and laced with sleep. If this were any other time, Levi would have screamed over their cuteness, but today he had a mission. He immediately marches up to the half asleep MC and promptly shoves his phone in their face.

"Did you make 'I Went to Hell For a Weekend and Got Stuck in a Love Heptagon with Seven Incubi'?" MC sits up and squints as their eyes adjust to the blinding screen and look at the post.

"Um... yeah. That's me isn't it?" Silence takes over the room, before Levi begins to scream.

"WAHHHHH! MC, why didn't you tell me!" Thankfully with the phone only being pointed at MC, they can't see the blush spreading across his face.

"Well, I didn't want you to treat me differently because I make anime." Laying back down as they speak, MC tucks a pillow under their head and looks up to where they guess Leviathan's face is. "Besides, I thought it was really cute how you were fanboying, and I didn't want you to stop because you knew you were in the presence of the creator." A small smile makes it's way on to MC's face as Levi feels his own get hotter.

Now covering his face, Levi quickly makes his way to the door while muttering, "You can't just say things like that..." As he begins to close the door, he pauses and opens it up again while looking back, "Can you tell me more about your show tomorrow, MC?" His voice sounds small compared to his previous scream.

"Of course Levi. We can talk for as long as you like."

#obey me requests #obeyme #obey me #levi #leviathan x mc #leviathan imagine #obey me leviathan #obey me levi x mc #obey me levi #fluff #obey me imagines #imagine #angst

536 notes · View notes

bandfanforever · 2 years ago

Text

Sweets and Treats

Chapter 2: Questions

Pairings: 22 yo Eddie Munson x (gn)reader, 18 yo Dustin Henderson x (gn)reader

Summary: The boys finally get up the courage to ask you questions.

Word Count: 1k

A/N: Sorry this took so long. Life has been crazy right now. Also, this is a little short as I found it a good place to break in the story.

Your dad helped you run the shop the next day. You had told him all about your current situation. Although he had always been fonder of Dustin, your dad tried to understand why you had such mixed feelings regarding both the boys.

On one hand, you had Dustin: sweet, super smart, cute. However, he was going away to college in just a couple months. It’s not like you were going to follow him there. The thought of just being a summer fling made you feel kind of weird. I mean Northwestern was only about a three-hour drive away but, that seemed like it would be a little extreme if this were to develop into a new relationship. He was easy to be around though and made you laugh. Why hadn’t he said something sooner?

Eddie, on the other hand, seemed much more mature compared to Dustin. There was no denying the attraction. You graduated just a year after him in ’87 and missed his lunchtime antics. Every time you saw him outside of school, he seemed so shy but, now you’re realizing maybe he just got nervous around you. You always felt like there was some sort of tension between the two of you and now you might have figured out why. If only he had made a move sooner.

Why did they have to do this at the same time? What good would it do? You knew the two were friends. Had they not talked about this to one another? Maybe Eddie was jealous? That’s a thought.

Your thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the door swinging open to reveal the two men in question.

“Good afternoon Mr. Y/L/N!” Dustin waved.

“Hey.” Eddie added.

“Hey boys,” your dad answered. “You gonna buy anything or just flirt with my kid?” Eddie turned bright red.

“No, I’ll buy something too,” Dustin quickly replied. He turned to look at his friend. “Why are you so red?”

“It’s just hot out, man.”

So, they obviously hadn’t talked to each other. Dustin must not know about yesterday. Well, that was going to make things so much more awkward.

Eddie wandered over to where the clove gum usually was just to find Beemans there instead. He frowned as he looked around for his go to, eyes landing at the small box next to the register. He chanced a glance over to you to find you smiling at him warmly.

“So, Dustin, have you chosen your classes yet?” Your dad asked.

“Not yet sir. They’ve got me scheduled to come out next week to register officially. Tuesday. I’ll probably spend the night and drive back Wednesday.”

“Sounds like you’ve got a plan. Make sure to drive safe.”

“I will!” Dustin grabbed a string of zotz and headed to the counter where you stood.

“My favorite flavor!” You exclaimed as you rang him up.

“Would you like to share them at a movie this weekend? Your choice?”

“You know that new movie Weekend at Bernie’s just came out. I’d love to see it. How about Saturday night?” You smiled at the blue-eyed boy and handed him back the line of zotz in exchange for some coins.

“Y/N, it’s a date. I’ll pick you up at 8.”

“It’s a date.” Dustin smiled toothily, said good evening to your father, and made his way out the store. As soon as the door closed, Eddie sauntered over to the register. You glanced over to your dad, and he made his way to the back of the store.

“A date huh? With Henderson?” There was a glint in his eyes.

“Yeah. It sounds nice.”

“How about one with me?”

“One what?”

“A date. Tuesday night. The hideout. My bands playing. We’ve been drawing a bit more of a crowd than we did in high school. Come watch. I promise it’ll be worth your while.” He looked at you with anticipation.

“It’s a date then.” The tall boy gave you a smile that made your heart flutter. He seemed more confident all of a sudden. The cockiness you remember from school starting to trickle out. He went to hand you a quarter for a pack of his favorite gum. “No, it’s on me today.”

“You’re sure? It’s just a quarter.” You nodded. “Thanks Y/N!”

You could look at Eddie all day. His soft curls framed his face and his smile made two perfect dimples appear on his full cheeks. His eyes sparkled whenever they met yours and his full lips – You needed to do something about this thing with Dustin.

“Earth to Y/N?” Eddie waved his ring laden hand in front of your face. You shook yourself back to reality and met his gaze once more. “You spaced for a moment. You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

“Well, then, I’ll see you Tuesday evening!”

“See you then!”

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

You laid awake in bed thinking about Dustin and Eddie. You hadn’t been on many dates. In fact, you hadn’t been on one at all. Academics were your first priority throughout school, then helping your dad, then whatever else you had to do before you could do what you wanted to do. It’s not like you hadn’t thought about dating. Sure, there were crushes here and there. Nothing ever came of it until now though.

The thought of a date, much less two, made your head spin. Saturday was coming up quick and you weren’t quite sure how to feel about it. You didn’t want to lead Dustin on but, he seemed so excited when you said yes. The best idea, you decided, was to indulge him on Saturday and let him down easy. Movies were fun anyway and so was he. It would be a good time. You just knew it couldn’t go any further given the feelings you knew you felt for Eddie. You were definitely more excited for Tuesday evening. You hadn’t been to one of his shows since the start of your junior year. If it was anything like that, you knew you’d be in for a real treat.

TAGLIST:

@treedivaeden

@jinxed-jk

@r-royce

@loliakeoghan23

@xhorror-nerdx

#Sweets and Treats #bandfanforever #eddie munson x reader #dustin henderson x reader #stranger things fic

35 notes · View notes

chateautae · 4 years ago

Text

flirt | pjm. (m)

➵ summary : park jimin is a notorious flirt, but so are you. when you both meet at a party after weeks of back and forth, it’s a matter of time before somebody gives in

➵ pairing : jimin x reader

➵ genre : college!au, sexual tension, smut, pwp

➵ rating : 18+

➵ word count : 4k

➵ warnings : super suggestive flirting, alcohol consumption (both parties able to consent), swearing, light dom and sub themes, soft dom!jimin, brat!reader, little bit of brat-handling, dirty talk, praising but also degradation? it’s hot i promise, use of slut, slight body worshipping, mentions of oral, jimin is hot and yes that’s a warning in itself, breast play, unprotected sex, penetrative + rough sex, bit of angsty sex, creampie cause i seem to not like it any other way

➵ a/n : and my first jimin fic is here!! dear god i love this boy to the moon and back so i got a bit carried with him lmao, hopefully this isn’t terrible cause i still need to edit it but your support and feedback are always appreciated!! <3

2 hours.

2 hours since you first came to this party. You’ve bumped into at least a hundred people, danced your legs numb, God knew how many and what concoction of drinks were inebriating your system and still, you hadn’t seen Park Jimin the whole night.

The only reason you even dragged yourself to this party was because of him. You were initially bailing on the annual ‘one-last-hurrah-before-midterms’ party because you, like everyone else here had midterms haunting them Monday. It was Friday night and as the ever diligent student, you were planning to study over the weekend.

Though your nagging best friend Hoseok had other plans, threatening you to come with every piece of dirt he had on you until he finally sprinkled Jimin’s name into the mix. You couldn’t lie, it was the only reason you decided to hell with your education, wiggled into a barely-there dress and waltzed in with Hoseok ready to take the night on.

But when you hadn’t seen Jimin at all, you were left annoyed, pissed off and with a headache raking your brain.

Seeing him was a selfish desire, one you’d develop after realizing you had met your match when you first encountered Jimin. You were always fairly notorious for your flirtatious habits and touchiness, a sort of trademark of yours and the same was always said about a ‘Park Jimin’ unknown to you, sometimes described to be an even bigger flirt.

It automatically intrigued you, curious of what kind of rival you secretly harbored until one day, you chanced upon Hoseok who just so happened to be with Jimin.

At first, you didn't think Jimin could be a daring flirt. He had this sweet smile and disciplined way of speaking that screamed innocent to you, his mannerisms and demeanor shy and introverted. He didn’t make big moves and so you wrote him off as just that.

But it wasn’t until you started seeing him outside your class’ building, alone, and multiple times after that, enough for you to realize he was anything but shy or innocent.

You ended up observing that a) he was sex on legs, b) easily flipped between the persona of an angel and a demon and c) anything he did could seem flirting.

You two hit it off without a hitch, your flirtatious tendencies meeting to form a relationship of mutual interest. It was clear as day, both your actions almost always held some sort of unknown intentions behind them, your every saying a double meaning.

It became the norm between you two, anytime you met turning into a conversation riddled with innuendos, suggestive lip-biting or eyes that couldn’t help but wander. And you weren't stupid, you could tell he wanted you just as much as you wanted him. You two were dangerous, testing the limits of either’s control, hoping someone would give in and only left disappointed when nobody did.

So when Hoseok mentioned this party, and graciously added Park Jimin’s name to it, you knew this was your chance. A party with buzzing bodies, loud music and copious amounts of alcohol was bound to set him off, especially if you were dressed scandalously and felt bolder with liquid courage pumping through your system.

But it’d been 2 hours, and you hadn’t seen him all night. You were taking another shot in the kitchen, sulking by yourself and reflecting on the fact that you’d been duped by Hoseok. This party became useless to you, a mere waste of your time as you quickly discarded your cup and began stomping out of the kitchen.

You ventured further into the house to look for Hoseok’s 5’10 ass, tell him he’s the worst best friend for lying to you and that you were leaving this disappointment of a party.

You stepped around people mindfully, dodging them until you rammed smack dab into someone’s back, scrambling for an apology before looking at the unaffected victim.

Park fucking Jimin.

“Y/N!” Jimin beamed, holding a drink in his hand as he smiled widely.

“Jimin, hey! I thought you didn’t come tonight.” You attempted biting back your smile from finally finding him, shouting over the bass of the music as you met him on the dance floor.

“I just ran late. You know me, of course I’d be here!” Jimin raised his drink to his plump lips and sipped, stepping side-to-side in rhythm with the music.

You couldn’t make him out that well, the disco lights of whatever lights system the only means of seeing him in the dark, but you swear the smirky grin on his face as he scanned you over wasn’t just a figment of your imagination, ecstatic that you already seemed to be reeling him in. “Do you want a drink?”

“No, I already had-” You didn’t get to finish your sentence as someone’s raging body stumbled into yours suddenly, sending you off balance until Jimin reached out for you cautiously.

“Woah, easy there.” Jimin’s arms quickly held you, flashing a scolding look at the person who bumped into you and pulling you towards himself. “Are you here with someone tonight?”

“Yeah, Hoseok! I was looking for him.”

“Why’s that?”

“I.. wasn’t having fun, so I wanted to leave with him.” You swiftly masked the real truth, your voice becoming less of a shout as Jimin encased you, just a few centimeters between your bodies as you peered up at him, cheeks flushed with heat and alcohol.

“Leave with him? Damn, didn’t know you two were like that.” Jimin flashed you a suggestive look, raising his eyebrows.

“Shut up, you know we’re just best friends.” You both erupted into a fit of chuckles as you hit his chest, your hand smacking against his jacket and now that you were close, registered what a meal he looked like tonight; ripped black jeans, plain white t-shirt underneath a distressed jean jacket, all pulled together sexily by his tousled hair, small hoop earrings and a Chanel necklace decorating his neck.

Dear God, how many times you’ve ached to kiss that pretty, pretty neck.

You internally groaned, habitually drawing closer to him as you enjoyed the warmth of his body, nostrils filling with the familiar scent of his intoxicating cologne.

“So I hear you wanna have some fun.” Jimin perked up, eyes amused and hands smoothing over your sides slowly after faltering from your arms.

“Are you suggesting I’ll have fun with you?”

“Of course, gorgeous, but up to you how we do that.” Jimin stepped dangerously closer to you as his voice lowered, your face tucked into his chest as his body blocked other people from touching you.

Excitement shot to your center at his use of a pet name, a common occurrence during your exchanges though his choices of which always an added thrill.

“And what if I just want to leave and eat at a diner instead?”

“Then I’d definitely take you, food and you? A win in my book.”

You cocked an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “Adding me to the mix suddenly makes it a win? I’m not the one on the menu, Park.”

Jimin’s eyes seem to blow out, leaning down as his plushy lips ghosted your ear as he spoke, tone darkened, “We can change that, princess.”

A thrill shot throughout your body, hyper aware of his lips mere inches from your face as your heart began to race, turning towards him expectantly.

You began advancing slowly to decrease the gap between your mouths, feeling him inch forward in response, letting him hover just above your lips for a tease before you stopped, “I’d like to see you try, Park.”

Then you abruptly turned out of his hold and walked away, making it through a few people into a hallway, allowing yourself to breathe. You loved teasing Jimin, it was an incredibly entertaining pass time but dear God, did it knock the fucking wind out of you.

You were mentally recuperating from the fact that he almost let you kiss him, distracted as you stepped away until someone suddenly snatched your arm and pinned you against the nearest wall. You were honestly shocked to see Jimin, surprised he actually took your bait and stayed on your trail to stop you. His dancing eyes held nothing but greed, evident even in the darkness of the party.

“You know just how to test people, don’t you?” Jimin warned as he narrowed his dangerous eyes at you, holding your hot-skinned wrists against the cool wall.

“Of course I do, it makes things fun and last time I checked,” You brought your face to his and left only an inch between you two, “that’s just what I want.”

Jimin visibly grew less tamed, glancing down towards your lips as he tried breathing controllably, “Careful what you wish for, princess. It might come true.”

“And if that’s what I want?” You titled your head expectantly, licking your lips as you watched Jimin bite his own. He eyed you the whole time, making it a statement to drink you in every inch of you.

You could smell the alcohol on him, assuming liquor was the only driving force behind his actions but then contemplated his level-headedness, his coherent speech and clear judgment in this moment.

Jimin was choosing to chase after you, choosing to not let you go after weeks of incessant back and fourth and you knew you were finally getting closer to exactly what you wanted.

Park Jimin giving in.

“You’re fucking hot.” Jimin commented, eyes eating you up hungrily.

“You’re hotter.” You grinned and leaned back against the wall, cleavage unintentionally popping out for him and Jimin’s look immediately shifted, bringing his body closer against yours.

“You look submissive as hell right now, is that what you like? To be dominated?”

“Only if you like to dominate.”

Jimin could feel the reigns on his control snapping, biting down to contain his raw desire to fuck you. He’s been holding himself back, knowing you seemed willing on your end of the interactions but never wanting to take the leap in case it was all just an act.

But as he watched you go along with his every comment, staring back at him with the same devious eyes and practically offering yourself to him in his hold, he knew you weren’t acting at all.

“You talk a big game, but can you put your money where your mouth is?” Jimin leaned his hips against yours, ensuring you could feel his growing hardness.

“My mouth can do a lot of fucking things, Park.” You jutted your hips into his.

Jimin shut his eyes frustratedly before he re-opened them, a downright obsidian colour taking them over.

“Go the fuck upstairs.”

“Wh-”

“I said, go the fuck upstairs.” Jimin demanded, looking at you with conviction so searing you in fact did become submissive.

“W-which room-” You didn’t complete your question as Jimin’s deft hands encased you and lifted you off the ground, bridal-style.

“Jimin-!” You exclaimed.

“Say another word and I’ll make sure you feel me in your throat.”

You immediately swallowed your mouth shut as Jimin cluthed you to him, core alighting with desire as he carried you up the stairs. Jimin arrived at the second floor and rushed towards the first room with an ajar door, shutting it with your feet after entering.

He made towards the bed and practically threw you onto it, stepping away to lock the door before leaning against it, arms crossed and serious.

“You sure you want this?” His voice came out considerate, no haste or pressure.

“Yes, Jimin.”

“You’re completely sure?”

You nodded incessantly.

“I need your words, Y/N.”

“Yes.” You affirmed, unintentionally becoming submissive as you awaited him, and Jimin couldn't resist you, not any longer. He made towards your smaller figure on the bed and immediately crashed his lips onto yours, knee sinking into the mattress as he leaned over you, splaying you onto the bed.

He held your wrists against the sheets, kissing you open as his plump lips worked tirelessly against your mouth. He continued to swallow you, opening up to catch all of you as he sank further downwards to feel your body arch into his.

His wet tongue glided over your lips and you welcomed him in lightspeed, letting his muscle entangle with yours hastily and you instantly loved the taste of him.

Jimin’s kisses began deepening, exploring your mouth like he was dehydrated and your mouth was fresh water. His thigh began pressing against your core and you moaned into his mouth as Jimin disconnected from you, panting for air.

“Don’t fucking do that.” He voiced frustratedly, his full lips swollen and pink as he tried to contain himself.

“Do what?”

“Fucking moan, it does shit to me.”

“Sucks for you, I’m responsive as fuck.” You snipped as his sudden confession made you hot, squishing your thighs together. Jimin took notice and he flashed a look at your core.

“Responsive, huh?” Jimin let go of your wrist, sliding his hand down your body before pressing his fingers to your heat through your dress. You instantly gasped, arching as you felt your walls clench around absolutely nothing.

“J-Jimin.” you warned him weakly.

“Mm?” Jimin paid no attention as he lowered himself to your neck and began kissing, tonguing, sucking at a spot that had you cowering and squirming underneath him.

You groaned as your free hand tangled into his hair, hugging him to your neck as you basked in the glory of his plush lips devouring you. He was laving and nibbling at your skin, continuously kissing the area of your carotid all while rubbing his hand against your clothed cunt. Jimin began rutting his body against yours, the tip of his cock prodding you the more he moved.

“Fuck you, Jimin. This isn’t fair.” You moaned breathlessly

“As fair as it gets, princess. You wanted to see my try, yeah?” Jimin suddenly stopped his movements on your core and slid his hand up your bare thigh, only to shift your stained panties to the side and glide his fingers all over your bare pussy. You gasped Jimin’s name and tugged at his hair harshly, the alcohol hazing everything over with sensitivity and trying to sustain the sheer amount of pleasure he was rewarding you.

“N-nothing’s fair about this.”

Jimin smoothed the pads of his fingers over your slick core, eliciting your incessant gasps, “Fuck with my ego and I fuck with you, baby.”

He was leaving purple marks all along your neck and chest, moving down to the valley of your breasts and you whined headily, hating that he had such an advantage in this position.

You immediately grew bold enough to push him off by his chest, detaching him as Jimin looked at you confused. “Y/N, what the fu-” was all Jimin could get out before you stood up and gripped his cock through his pants, his breath immediately hitching. He looked at you with surprised eyes, growing weaker in your hold as you walked him back against a vanity in the room.

You had no clue who this room belonged to, but you could care less when you were minutes away from getting fucked by Park Jimin.

He let out breathy little moans as you palmed him, shutting his eyes in bliss as he turned harder by the second, leaning back against the counter. You planted your lips to his neck and mouthed fervently, making sure you embellished his skin with your desire for him. “F-fuck. Y/N, this isn’t fair.”

“Fuck with my ego and I fuck with you, baby.” You mocked him and began rubbing at his shaft, sucking hickies onto his pretty neck and licking over the areas your teeth grazed. Jimin continued groaning, hugging you close to him as he fisted his hands against your body, trying everything to cherish the pleasure he felt.

The person he’s been desiring ever since he heard about you, his every nerve thrilled by your ability to counter him, match his energy of constant flirting and testing the waters, venturing further than him sometimes.

You were just so tempting and Jimin wanted every last bit of you.

That sentiment increased when he felt your hands snake towards the belt of his jeans, unbuckling harshly with need so apparent he wanted nothing but to stuff your walls, now.

“No, fuck off, getting inside you first.” Jimin denied your hands, capturing them in his hold.

You instantly whined, “But Jimin, want you to fuck my face.” You pouted into his neck, kissing along his collar bones as you rutted against him.

“Fucking God, I’m destroying you for that.” Jimin wrapped you up in his arms and switched the positions, shoving you against the vanity, your ass on the edge of the counter as Jimin stood in between your spread out legs, lips meeting yours again.

Jimin lifted the skirt of your dress up and over your backside, pooling around your waist as his hands slid over your fleshy thighs to the band of your panties. He pulled only to snap them back against your skin, the contact making you gasp.

“Why the fuck are you still wearing these?”

“And why the fuck are you still wearing clothes?” You chastised, hands greedily shoving his jacket off him even with your mouth attached to his.

Jimin didn’t allow the action to compromise your kiss either, practically ripping his jacket off and breathing hard against you as he threw it away. He then pulled his t-shirt over himself, revealing his toned, lean body underneath and only leaving his Chanel necklace hanging over his bare chest. You licked your lips at the sight of his smooth and pretty body, the outline of his abs like a work of art.

You reached out to touch him, his face and skin flushed with lust as he watched you. “You’re so hot, Jimin, so pretty.” You praised, eyes ogling him.

Jimin smirked proudly before speaking, “Your turn.”

He searched for the zipper of your dress and unzipped hastily, peeling away the top to reveal your naked breasts and now it was his turn to ogle at you.

“Fuck me, you’re prettier.” He huffed out, eyes blown out entirely.

“Probably not as pretty as your cock, let me suck.” You pouted playfully and pulled him closer to you with the back of your shins, hands greedily feeling up his bare chest.

“Only good girls get to suck my dick.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, you’re a fucking brat and a half.” Jimin started kneading your breasts, licking his lips as he watched you spread your legs wider for him and lean your head back out of pure bliss.

“I am not a brat, you just fucking take 10 years to get it on.” You snapped back, moaning in between at the way he groped your breasts, rolling the buds of your nipples with his fingertips.

“Sorry I was a fucking gentleman, didn’t know you were such a cock-hungry slut.” Jimin bit as he planted his thick lips to your perched nipple, eliciting curses from you as his tongue began swirling around, sucking teasingly.

“You just can’t fuck, isn’t it? All bark and no bite?”

Jimin scoffed darkly at that, sucking harder on your sensitive nipples before letting go with a pop. “I’ll fucking break you is why I kept holding off, you’ll regret this, princess.”

“Break me then, Jimin, please. Fuck me like you say you will, I need you.” Your arousal became unbearable as you grew hornier, rocking your hips against him for friction while he laved at either of your nipples.

“I will, baby. Get these off and I’ll fuck you so good.” Jimin tugged at your panties and you lifted your ass for him to discard them.

You unhooked Jimin’s belt and shoved into his pants, pulling his boxers and jeans down until you finally freed his leaking length, thick and throbbing to be treated.

What you always thought was right, his cock was pretty just like him. You graciously pumped him, spreading his pre-cum over the head as you watched him lean his head back, kissing under his jaw.

“So pretty, Jimin, just like you.”

Jimin stopped caring about any and everything and instantly grabbed one of your legs, spreading you wide open for him and situated himself before your entrance.

He brought a hand over yours pumping his member and moved you quicker against his hot flesh, looking down at the lewd scene and your pretty pussy aching for him.

“Look at you soaking, baby, so much prettier.”

You moaned needily, the back of your shins urging Jimin closer to you again as you whined. “Jimin..”

“Raw?” he breathed impatiently.

“Fuck yes, birth control.”

Jimin didn’t even take a millisecond before he was pushing against your hole, placing the hand that was pumping his member now against your pelvic bone, pressing down to feel himself sink inside of you.

You instantly careened, moaning out so loud that if there wasn’t music blaring in the house, everyone would know how stuffed Jimin made you feel.

“Fuck-Jimin! Stop doing that, it feels too fucking good..!” You nearly cried, the pressure of Jimin’s hand making you feel any and every ridge, vein and hardness of his thick cock, your walls drinking him in.

“Fuck you, this is what you get.” Jimin blurted as he buried himself to the hilt, groaning satisfyingly at your warm walls hugging him before plunging to make out with you.

Jimin began fucking you with conviction, determination to drive you insane for him as he spread you open. He thrusted fast and hard from the get-go, neglecting to set a pace knowing how much of a cock-loving brat you were. His thumb resting just above your clit dipped down to lightly play with your bud, tease it, all the while licking into your mouth and thrusting into you.

You gasped hard, so much that Jimin’s name was the only thing coherent within them and he swallowed all your sounds with his lips. Your body was on fire at the drag of his cock, shocked at how wet you were when he hadn’t even fingered or eaten you out, his cock doing all the work, leaving you only thinking of Park Jimin’s sheer power.

You wanted all of him so badly, wanted him to ruin you, destroy you like he said he would, fuck you open like he always insinuated he would.

“Jimin, please, harder! Fuck me like the brat I am, teach me a fucking lesson.”

“Princess likes it hard, huh? Want me to fuck this pussy up? Make it all mine?” Jimin’s words were so filthy they had you clutching onto him tightly, arousal gushing from you as Jimin impaled you harder, snapping into you.

His thumb continued its onslaught, your walls convulsing to his every stroke as you gripped his shoulders and kissed him, biting his plushy bottom lip as he fucked you harder.

“Mm, Jimin, fuck!” Your tits bounced as he pounded into you, taking his every thrust like a champ and he damn well shook the entire vanity, continuously drilling your hole as he gave no room for mercy. Your hands snaked into his hair and tugged, making him groan in approval and he only pushed you open wider in response.

“You pretty brat, look at you getting what you want. Fucked like the cock-loving princess you are.” Jimin breathed against your mouth, his skin slicking with sweat as he worked tirelessly against your opening, battering your pussy with an unforgiving speed.

“You would’ve gotten your dick sucked, but apparently-” you shuddered breathily, “I w-wasn’t a good girl.” You felt weak from his repeated onslaught, the bubbling pleasure in your gut keeping you going.

“Yeah, so fucking behave and maybe I’ll let you choke on my dick.”

“Y-you stop playing games and maybe I’ll let you eat my pussy.”

Jimin only ticked his head to the side as he chuckled darkly, starting to propel his thick cock into your gut and raging at your clit so roughly, you gasped as you carved your pleasure into his skin. Jimin did the same as he bore his fingers into you, a hand squeezing your thigh harshly as he held your leg and your walls fluttered around him, moans growing higher in pitch.

“Jimin! I’m gonna-“ you didn’t even complete your sentence as your walls clamped around him, orgasm washing over you so quickly you barely realized it came. You clenched him like a vice and panted hard against his mouth, Jimin finally coming undone as well, spurts of cum painting your insides and filling you to the brim, certain he’d leak out of you for hours.

You felt stuffed, so full of him you were hazed over with post-orgasm bliss, mind unwinding from any trifling matter on Earth. Your forehead slacked against his shoulder as you both panted for air, sweating as Jimin held your weak body in his arms.

His cock remained shoved inside you, the throbbing letting up on both of you as your highs settled down.

“You..” Jimin swallowed dryly, breathing. “took me like a good girl. Maybe you can suck me off next time.”

“Next time?” You breathed labourly, turning your face towards his.

Jimin peered down at you resting against him, biting back a grin. “Of course, there’s always a next time with flirts like us.”

#thebtswritersclub #jimin x reader #jimin smut #park jimin x reader #bts smut #jimin scenario #jimin fanfiction #park jimin #park jimin college au #bangtanhq

2K notes · View notes

expectingtofly · 3 years ago

Text

Claire Novak's (Surprisingly) Not-So-Lame Day

this fic is written for @dean-has-great-taste as part of @starrynightdeancas' gift exchange. thanks sophie for organizing this, it was a lot of fun <33 and i hope you enjoy this, gen!!

*****

How did Claire find herself joining Dean, Cas, and Jack for an excursion to the mall?

Well.

Cas had texted her yesterday, with an extreme amount of emojis and emoticons that took some time to decipher, asking if she wanted to go shopping with him, Dean, and Jack. Apparently Jack needed new clothes and they needed a gift for Eileen’s birthday coming up, and maybe they could go bowling or something afterwards.

And normally she would’ve said no way because hanging out with old guys was lame and she didn’t like little kids, but she needed an excuse to get out of Jody and Donna’s weekend plans of cleaning out the garage. Plus, Kaia needed to study for a test—she actually enjoyed school, the weirdo—and had requested no distractions.

So that’s how she found herself sitting in the back of the Impala next to a carseat, listening to one of Dean’s old cassette tapes (which wasn’t too bad, but she’d never admit it).

“What’s that?” Jack asked, stretching against his carseat straps to jab at one of the pins Claire wore on her leather jacket.

“It’s the lesbian flag,” she told him. Cas looked back at them from the front seat, smiling.

“This one?” Jack pointed to the rainbow pin on her pocket.

“It’s the pride flag.”

Jack considered that for a moment before announcing, “I want one. And this one.” He pointed to the mothman pin on her lapel, then the big-eyed, green alien. “And this one... and this one, and this one.” (Alex said she had more pins than leather on her jacket, but sue her, she liked making her clothing her own).

Jack, it seemed, also liked… unique clothing. The kid was wearing rain boots even though the sun was out and overalls with embroidered flowers. He dressed weird, there was no way around it. But so did Cas, so there was probably no hope for him, poor kid.

“Okay,” she decided. “I know where to get you some.”

Jack beamed and swung his legs. “Don’t kick the seat,” Dean told him, and Jack pouted at him.

Claire was surprised Dean even let a carseat in his precious Impala. Pulling out her phone, she asked, “Can we listen to my music?”

Dean started to respond with a “Hell no,” but Cas spoke up first, “Of course.”

Dean spluttered as Claire connected to the bluetooth connector Sam had finally convinced Dean to install. The old man didn’t realize it was the 21st century, apparently.

“I wanna listen to Gaga!” Jack said, leaning over to look at her phone.

At first she thought that was some baby talk, then she realized Jack was into pop music. Ugh. But it would annoy Dean, so...

Leaning in conspiratorially with Jack, she let him scroll through her phone and choose which song to play. When “Born This Way” started filtering through the car, Dean groaned.

“Really?” he asked, sending her a glare in the rearview mirror. Mission accomplished.

Jack clapped along and Cas turned the music up louder. “Great choice, Jack,” he said.

Dean, for all his grumbling, didn’t turn down the music, and Claire caught him glancing at Cas, who tapped his fingers on his thigh to the beat. Dean looked like he was fighting back a smile and Claire rolled her eyes. Dude was so whipped.

When they parked at the mall, Cas grabbed Jack’s hand before he could sprint across the parking lot. “You have to look both ways,” he reminded him gently, and Jack nodded.

“Claire’s gonna buy me pins,” he said, jumping onto the curb.

“Yup.” Claire pat her jacket pocket. “Good ol’ credit card fraud.”

“Woah, now,” Dean started to protest.

“You and Sam are the ones who taught me!” Claire reminded him.

“We’ll pay for them,” Cas said, opening the door to the mall. Jack skipped inside, his rain boots squeaking on the tiled floor.

“We’re doing what now?” Dean asked Cas, taking his hand. Gross.

“Come on, Jack,” Claire said, catching up to the toddler. “Let’s go get you some style.” Over her shoulder, she called, “Meet up with you guys later.”

“Have fun!” Cas called.

“Don’t get kidnapped,” Dean added.

As they distanced themselves from the old geezers, Jack grabbed her hand, and Claire startled a little. “Do you like dinosaurs?” he asked.

Someone passing by gave them a smile, and Claire realized people probably thought Jack was her younger brother. She let him hold her hand anyway. “Sure.”

“What’s your favorite? Mine is the bon-ta-sore-us.” He sounded out the word carefully.

“Don’t know. What’s the one with the spiky horns?”

“Ti-ce-a-tops?”

“Yeah, that sounds cool.”

“That’s my second favorite!” He started jumping from one colored tile to the next. “And the T-Rex. That’s Dee’s favorite. And Dad likes the steg-a-sore-us.” He peered up at her. “Did you know he got to see dinosaurs? Right in front of him!”

“You know what that means, right?” He shook his head. “He’s super old. He’s basically a dinosaur himself.”

Jack’s eyes widened. “He’s a dinosaur,” he repeated in a hushed whisper.

“Yup.” Spotting Hot Topical, she headed that way. “You should tell him that.”

Inside the store, Jack let go of her hand to grab a stuffed cat. “Claire! Like yours!”

Claire rolled her eyes. “Yeah.” So, she still had the Grumpy Cat Cas had bought her. She wasn’t cruel enough to throw it away when the guy was trying so hard to make up for walking around in her dead dad’s body. Plus, the stuffed animal was kinda cute. Not that she was going to tell anyone that.

“Here ya go,” she told Jack, finding a box of pins at the register. She brought the box down to his level and Jack ran over to look inside.

“I want a Doc McStuffins pin,” he said, plunging his hand into the box.

“I don’t know if they have those.”

As they rooted through the box of pins, she heard familiar voices and looked up to see Dean and Cas walking inside.

“What are you guys doing here?” she asked.

“I like this store,” Cas said and Dean rolled his eyes. Among the pleather and black, Cas’ dingy old trench coat—over a Winnie the Pooh sweatshirt instead of a suit—and Dean’s ratty flannel and boots only looked more ridiculous. She took it back—even Jack dressed better than them.

“You guys don’t have to be in here,” she told them.

“What, we’re too old?” Dean asked defensively.

“Yeah, actually.”

Cas poked at a toy and it squeaked. God, could they be any more embarrassing?

“Dad!” Jack called, holding out a rainbow pin. “Look, they have soo many.” Cas joined Jack in going through the pins and Claire asked Dean, giving his outfit a meaningful look,

“Was the Army Surplus store too trendy for you?”

“Did they kick you out of Sephora for buying up all the eyeliner?“ Dean shot back.

Touché. In a truce, she held out a pin with the bisexual flag. She wasn’t really sure what Dean identified as, if he even gave it any thought, but guessed it was close enough. “For you.”

Dean rolled his eyes but took it. “I’m not weighing down my jacket with this crap, though.”

“No, ‘course not, that would mean having any sort of style.”

“Can I help you with anything?” asked an employee with two nose rings and jewelry up and down their ears— so cool. Claire saw the way their eyes flicked between them, probably thinking they made a weird group, and she took a step back, trying to silently communicate that yes, she was shopping with them, but no, she was not as lame as them.

“Just looking,” Dean told them.

“I like your drawings,” Jack said and the employee looked down at their arms which were littered with tattoos.

“Thanks.”

“My dad has a drawing. It’s Enochian.”

The employee—Wren, by the name tag—looked at Cas with new respect in their eyes. “Language of the angels. Sick.”

Cas looked pleased. “Thank you. It’s come in handy more than once.”

The employee went back to looking confused and, starting to walk away, told them to call if they needed anything.

“Do you want anything?” Cas asked Claire, and Claire looked through the box. She grabbed a pentagram pin and, seeming to copy her, Jack grabbed another one, clutching several pins already in his fists.

“You like bees, right?” Claire asked Cas, spotting a “Save the Bees” pin. She held it up for him.

Cas’ eyes brightened. “That’s a wonderful message.” He glanced back at Dean and frowned. “Dean, they’re not going to bite.”

Claire looked over to see Dean shying away from a few emo teens. “Look like it,” Dean muttered, joining them. Jack lifted up his hands, asking to be hoisted up. Dean set him on his hip and Jack showed him the pins he’d selected. He held a dinosaur pin to Dean’s collar.

“Do you want one, Dee?”

“He’s too lame,” Claire piped up. Not for the first time, she noticed the healed over piercing mark on Dean’s right ear and pointed to it. “Looks like he used to be cool, though.”

“Yeah, guess so,” Dean said dryly. His hand went to his earlobe. “Pierced it myself, in high school.”

“I think you’re still cool,” Cas told him, and Claire fake-gagged, making Jack giggle.

Cas took the pins to the cash register where Wren rang them up. Dean added the bisexual flag pin and Claire threw in a pair of spiky earrings, because, hey, they were paying.

“15.36,” Wren told them, dropping the pins into a bag.

“My dad’s a dinosaur,” Jack told them, trying to see over the edge of the counter. Wren raised an eyebrow, Cas looked surprised, and Claire stifled a laugh.

“Claire, help me,” Jack said, grabbing the bag from Cas as they exited the store. Moving to the side, Claire helped him attach the pins to his overalls. A smiley face, a pride flag, a grinning Stitch, a sunflower, a dinosaur, and the pentagram. The pins clacked as Jack tugged at his overalls, trying to look at them all. Overall, a chaotic look, but it kinda matched his vibe.

“Lookin’ good,” she told him, and Jack beamed.

“I’m like you!”

Alright, she wouldn’t take it that far, but, “Yeah, close enough.”

Cas attached the “Save the Bees” pins to his trench coat pocket and it ended up crooked. Rolling her eyes, Claire said, “Let me.”

She reattached the pin and stepping back to look it over, decided, “You could actually make that coat look cool if you added more stuff to it.”

Cas looked down at himself. “Thank you.”

“Nothing’s gonna save that sweatshirt, though.” Couldn’t let his ego get too big.

“Dean said he liked it,” Cas said, glancing back at Dean, who was shooting an evil eye at Claire. He quickly wiped it off his face and draped an arm over Cas’ shoulders.

“Yeah, it’s uh… Charming.” He guided Cas away from Claire. “Don’t listen to her, she still thinks sarcasm is a personality trait.”

“Screw you, old man,” she called. Jack skipped after them and she checked her phone to see Kaia had texted her: How’s everything going? They drive you crazy yet?

They’re so weird, she texted back. Then she added, They’re not too bad.

“Come on, Jack,” she said, hurrying to catch up with him, Dean, and Cas. “Let’s go get our ears pierced.”

“Yay!” Jack cheered. He grabbed her hand and tugged her down the mall.

“Woah, woah, you’re not doing that,” Dean protested like the wet blanket he was.

“You can get yours pierced too,” Claire told him, and he faltered,

“I don’t want, we’re not—“

“You know you want to.” She let Jack lead her away and Dean called after them,

“We're never bringing you shopping again!”

Grinning, she turned to shout over her shoulder, “You know you love me!”

#starrynightdeancas gift exchange #established dean/cas #claire novak #toddler jack #dadstiel #fic #spn #expectingtoflywrites #im gonna post this on ao3 as soon as i figure out a summary lol

104 notes · View notes

cosmiclatte28 · 4 years ago

Text

7 Minutes in Heaven (Jaehyun x you) 🔞

Okay this is suggestive and not suitable for under 18 readers, so please continue only if you’re going to bear the consequences. No it’s not super smuty, it’s just not a good thing to copy :)

Warning : don’t kiss random strangers, don’t drink, don’t smoke, wrap up or you’re skipping a nine month bloody day :”)... Jungwoo is your bestfriend, Shy!Jaehyun and you’re bold enough to try new things...

anyways this has been in my laptop for a while, wanted to post it on Halloween but didn’t finish it back then... soooo embrace yourself for a new journey of how it might be like to play 7 minutes in heaven with Jaehyun

here goes my (suggestive) fanfic... hope this won’t make you cringe

________________________________________________________________

“So…you're saying the boys think I am a pure innocent girl?” You scoff and laugh upon the remark Jungwoo just said.

“Well they don't believe me when I said you're totally different outside campus.” The man with blue hair bashfully looks around the canteen.

You pick up your fork and continue poking in chicken chunks to your small mouth, “And why are you telling this exactly?”

Jungwoo deadpan looks at you and leans closer, “Why don't you proof them wrong? They've labeled you as the boring mechanical engineering girl!”

He slams the table a bit dramatically, to which you shudder.

“Easy… you'll break the table! Well sorry, but they're not totally wrong. I'm a regular mechanical engineering girl, boring, studying all the time, nerd, and just never coming to parties!” you give him a dry chuckle.

“Look this is not the true you! I've known you since high school! I know how crazy the boys were whenever you pass by! I'll be honest there were like 5 hot guys who had crush on you in high school, just that sorry I told them you're not allowed to date yet.” Jungwoo trails off and feels a bit guilty when he finally spills the beans he has been hiding.

Your eyes fly open and your mouth too, you drop your spoon and grunt, “Say that again… you cock-blocked me?!”

Jungwoo closes his eyes and inhales a deep breath, “I'm saving your future! I just don’t want them to you know use you and throw you away…”

You hit the spoon to the metal tray, and it made a good “BANG"

“Surprise surprise you told me this after like I don’t know five years maybe. You made the men who liked me back away before even trying to reach me out! Jungwoo all my life I thought I was the one with problem?! I thought no one likes nerds like me; when I myself believe I am a fun girl!” your rage bubbles up from within.

You feel like crying, all these times you thought you were imperfect, you were never a crush for men, you've dealt with your insecurities. You overcome dark times when you see your friends walking through the hallway, having the spotlight on them. You thought you can never be that just because you're an A-grade-student. You did have Jungwoo standing by your side through high school, and he's a good friend who you cannot see as a man.

Your friendship with Jungwoo is indeed a beneficial one, since both of you love science and calculations. You have a study friend and voila you both made it to you best engineering school!

Just as you thought campus life will be lit, since you can “reset" your image, be the fun student on weekend, and study well on weekdays.

But no. You’re overworked with the tasks and quizzes, and to ensure your scholarship is still there, you need a minimum of 3.0 in GPA and that means you’re saying goodbye to parties and hello to enough sleep.

You're mad now when you think of it. Jungwoo has been a cock-block since grade 10 and maybe until today when he finally realized what he had done.

You massage your temple and look in disgust at your unfinished food.

You push your chair back and stand up, “I am mad at you. I don't feel like eating. Good bye Jungwoo..”

“WAIT! i'm sorry I know I was a jerk… but please let me fix it… give me a chance..” he begs you

Your mind is set already, and you shake your head, “I can fix it by myself. So long” you wave and quickly run to the bathroom.

There you let out your emotion in one of the locked toilets and you pull yourself back when you figure a way out to proof them wrong.

You're not the typical book-worm boring mechanical student. You’re you and that will blow the house on fire tonight.

You wash your face in the sink and pamper up yourself from the messy state. You're a fan of make up and you've always had natural looks over your pretty face.

Quickly you draw back your mascara and eye liners, one smack of lip gloss and you're smiling all the way to your next class. Writing.

Johnny greets you in front of the lecture class, he tells you about the upcoming party Lucas will hold this Saturday and Johnny suggests you come and see what it feels like to have some relaxation and fun. He knows midterm has just ended and he is sure you don't have lies to excuse yourself from the invitation.

“Great guess I can make it. Need that fun nights you know. Any theme?”

“Oh, it'll be a costume party since it’s Halloween.” Johnny explains.

You smirk already having lots of ideas in your mind. “Okay see you there then!”

“Nice! Dress up nicely, it's a competition!”

You give him two thumbs up.

“Sooo what are you going to wear?” Jungwoo finally gets to talk to you after trying so hard to win your forgiveness.

“I am not going as your couple okay.. I’m going simple this time. I don't want to try too hard.” You smile remembering how you're always prepared for costume parties.

“Let me see, I’ve won Bonnie and Clyde costume… last year we showed up as marry Poppins. Now I just want to enjoy the party.” You plop into your bed and stretch. The party is tomorrow night and Jungwoo is staying over tonight because he needs to finish his costume.

“What? Tell me…” he asks while sticking his props to you don't really know what costume is he going with.

“see me tomorrow okay…”

Jungwoo rolls his eyes when he sees what you appear with tomorrow.

“Seriously?! You’re keeping it a secret. Just to come to the party dressed as a Ravenclaw student!”

You turn around to final check your appearance. Well coming as a Ravenclaw is what you want today.

Jungwoo is by your side ready in his F1 racer costume.

Everything as fun and cool you're having a blast when you see Jungwoo's frats brothers. One man caught your attention when he looks so cute in his Slytherin costume. Your eyes dilate when he flashes a smile to another person, but you caught the smile.

“Whew that is hot.” You whisper to yourself and keep your eyes on him. You never hear Jungwoo talking about him, but seeing him seated nicely between Doyoung and Taeyong, you knew he belongs in that frats. Doyoung and Taeyong are the boys from your music class and they're your best friend.

“hey (y/n)!! Come! We’re playing spin the bottle!” Johnny calls you over to join the table full of 23 men and several girls lounging over the empty seat.

You bring yourself to the seat next to Jungwoo and you're face to face with the cute slytherin boy.

You fix your skirt and calmly cross your legs while watching the man's reaction across you. He was caught watching you but when your eyes met, he quickly averts his gaze away and drinks his cup.

The game starts and you're drowned in alcohols. Well when they ask you stupid personal questions, you're shy to answer, you choose to drink.

Jungwoo keeps on telling you to stop, “Hey enough! You downed three shots .. too fast girl.” He holds your hand before you chug another shot.

Johnny sends a smug look, “Hey Jungwoo why don't you be her dark horse? If you think she drank too much, take a double shot.”

Jungwoo is not the best alcohol drinker and he needs to make sure you got home safe, before he can open his mouth a deep voice makes the whole room move their head to face him.

“I'll take her shots.” The Slytherin boy downs two cups like they were nothing and you catch his ears turning red.

“Thank you…” your voice trails off.

“It's Jaehyun,” he winks.

You pop your lips, “Yeah Jae, thanks!”

The room cheers and starts throwing cat calls to the two of you. You remain calm while deep inside your heart you're dying to squeal and bury your face. Jaehyun on the other side is also turning red, but his sweet smile is still there.

The bottle spins again and this time it points to Jaehyun and he chooses dare.

“Okay Okay this is gonna be fun!!” Mark claps his hands after him and Johnny whisper about the plan.

“Jae, you and the person across you go in that closet and do the 7 minutes in heaven thing… or drink” Johnny clicks his tongue. The room cheers and you can see it's you they meant ..

“Across me?” Jaehyun rubs his neck slowly, he somehow feels shy around you.

“Yeah (y/n)!” Doyoung punches his shoulder, “I'm doing it if I were you"

Taeyong claps his hands and pushes Jaehyun to stand up.

“Just do it!” someone else is also pushing you, it was Lucas.

You did not object and just shrug your shoulder.

Without further ado, you and Jaehyun are forced into the small closet.

They close the door and gosh you hear a click.

It’s dark inside, but somehow there’s a good air circulation at least you two won’t die out of breath.

You can’t really see him, but with the small lights penetrating through the space, you swear your heart is beating super fast. He looks ethereal.

“You good? Sorry they did this to you.” Jaehyun starts the conversation.

You let out a small chuckle, “No..it's fine. I'm okay… I’m not claustrophobic nor afraid of the dark.”

He laughs nervously, “Nice, me too.”

“Thanks for taking my shot earlier.” You try to break the thin air.

“No problem,” he fidgets with his fingers.

“So… are you gonna kiss me or we're keeping this safe?” you slap yourself for saying that out loud. Jaehyun swears he thank the darkness that his burning red face is hidden.

He chokes and coughs, you quickly apologize “Sorry. I didn’t mean to surprise you. Look, I thought you were the kind of guys who will just be straight forward and keep things casual.”

Jaehyun laughs, his laugh sounds sweet you almost melt.

“And I thought you're a shy quiet innocent girl.” He licks his lips. Well he's fast in reading the atmosphere and he knows if the time is right, he'll get that lips he has been eyeing since you entered the room.

You feel your cheek warming, “Ah.. yeah sorry Maybe you don’t see me interesting. I'm just the boring-"

“no. You're not. Girl you're not what people say.”Jaehyun cuts your sentence.

His hands cup your cheeks, “You're brave and oh I am the shyest boy here and I just like girls like you.” He blurts it out.

You feel your heart clench, really a handsome man like him who can win every girl's heart with one smile and wink… is a shy boy?

“You're telling me... you're a shy boy.. even when you can win the girls with one wink and a smile.”

He blushes, “Well… did I win your heart like that??”

You sigh, “Actually you won my heart with the Slytherin coat and you did toss me a smile. My heart somersault when you took my shots.”

He chuckles, “Can I make a confession?”

You nod, “Sure, what happens here stays here.”

He leans closer and whispers, “I've never kissed a girl before and you too look cute little Ravenclaw.”

Your eyes linger to his plump wet lips, you bite yours. Oh gosh you were also a virgin! You've never kissed anyone, but you're going to break that image, right? Tonight, Is the right time you guess.

“May I?” you ask. Fuck the stereotype girls can also start kisses.

Jaehyun did not reply anything instead he brings his hand to cup your face and with one hand in your chin he leans in to mold his lips into yours.

You feel electricity running in your body and your mind is full of stars. Your stomach is doing things and oh you regret not kissing him sooner. His lips indeed taste good and the way he holds your neck is enough to make you squirm.

You open your mouth and his tongue slips in. You're loud. You swear anyone could hear the two of you making out. But his soft touch and his slow head movement makes you crave more.

He almost pulls back thinking you don't want this, but you're faster. You push yourself to him more and run your fingers to his hair. You play with his hair according to how your body tingles by his kiss.

He pulls back to take a short breathing and you smile when the two of you just lean on the walls and take in as much air as you can. Jaehyun feels like crawling into a hole, he just had an intense first kiss with you, the girl he secretly put interest in for the last six months.

“Was I good?” he glances to you.

You smirk, “If this is what I’ll get every time we kiss, I’m addicted already.”

He scoots closer and in that small room, he manages to pull you up on his lap. You chuckle but follow his game.

“Can I taste that soft cherry again?” he whispers hoarsely, and you shudder. Hey, weren’t you going to show how not innocent you are but why are you so pliant and shy under this Shy Slytherin boy?

You peck his lips, “I'm afraid our seven minutes timer is up.”

He brings his hands to your waist, “No one is opening the door yet for us. Might as well seize the opportunity.”

You chuckle, “Good at bargaining huh?” and you lean in for another hot make out session.

“So… can we two be a thing?” he asks with his wet swollen lips.

You put your hands on his shoulder “I don't know. Can a Ravenclaw date a Slytherin?”

He laughs at your obsession of Harry Potter. “I don’t know. Should we test it?”

You bend your neck and hide it on his neck. Inhaling a quick whiff of his musk cologne.

“Well I don’t see anything wrong in trying..”

“I wish I could see your face now. Because right now.. my face is burning… “

“I can feel your heartbeat Honey,” you giggle as you plant your palm over his fast heartbeat.

“Slow down or you'll get a heart attack.” You rub his shoulder blades

“It's getting hot here or is it just me?” he fans his hand

You knock your hand to the door and yell, “Hey guys it's been more than seven minutes! We need air.”

You hear someone shuffle to the door and unlocks it.

You did not move from his lap, you wait til that person is out and when you hear no one else is in the room, you kick the door opens.

Lights come into your peripherals and you quickly close the big room's door.

Jaehyun tosses you a questioning look

You shrug your shoulder, “Happiness can be found even in the darkest place when one turns on the lights.”

“Such a fanatic here!” he picks you up and pushes you to the wall. You can see his starry eyes now under the lights and oh gosh they were so pretty.

You can see his deep dimple showing whenever he gives you a side smile and your hands find their way to cup his face.

Like casted by the love potion you bend your neck to kiss him. His lips is an addiction and you're blaming the alcohol for whatever happens afterward.

“I guess you're going home alone Woo,” Lucas said when he passed by the locked room and his face turns red upon hearing the sinful noises.

Jungwoo chugs down another drink, “Let her, she's big enough to take care of herself.”

“And why are you not bringing her to parties sooner? I thought she was the regular boring student.” Haechan was jealous of Jaehyun. Hell, he found you super intriguing too.

Jungwoo smirks, “Told you she’s not like the others.”

Lucas pats his shoulder, “And you're not the one getting laid. Be patient okay…”

Jungwoo laughs out loud, “Hell no, we're bestie since long time. I can’t see her as a woman. We’re good. Jae can have her.”

Jaehyun looks hot without his coat and after climbing down the high. The best one you two ever had. You were laying down on the big mattress staring to the ceiling and catching breaths with Jaehyun beside you.

“Do you think Jungwoo will hate me?” Jaehyun picks out a cigarette box he found in the closet earlier.

You shake your head, “He'll be happy I got laid finally.”

Jaehyun huffs a cloud of smoke, you ask him “you think the boys will think of me as less? Like maybe they see me as the same cheap sl-"

Jaehyun presses a finger over your lips “No. They don't and won't. They are not that type of men. They respect women's choices. In contrast, I’m sure if they hear our story, they’ll be jealous.”

A small smile comes to your lips, the naughty side of yours is awake. “Oh yeah? Then try it. Tell them about us and see if they're jealous.”

Jaehyun offers you the stick of cigarette, you're not a new smoker. Actually, you smoke sometimes to relax, you smoke a special herbal one… and this is one of it.

“Whaoh you're not a newbie?” he sounds surprised when you did not cough after taking the first smoke.

“I did sometimes the herbal ones.” You blow a cloud of smoke.

“Funny how we have a lot in common, but we just know one another tonight.”

You smile, “in seven minutes actually.”

He hugs you from the side, “Yeah the best seven minutes in heaven.”

*op hides in the corner* end

how is it??? aaaa I guess it’s soo bad :”)

316 notes · View notes

recurring-polynya · 3 years ago

Note

[Renji birthday] Hey, hi. What about Orihime does smt to surprise Renji for his birthday, a thank-you him helping her at New Year celebration? Include fireworks that Renji secretly enjoys? Thanks. Anything (fic, hcs, sketch..) is fine.

I’m sorry this is late, but it’s still the Renji - Orihime Birthday Weekend, so I think it’s okay!

I love the idea of the Renji - Orihime BroTP, but somehow it’s so hard for me to write, I always do a bunch of false starts or get stuck. For this round of prompts, I was trying to do the ones that inspired me the most and I liked the idea a lot more than I had ideas, if you get my drift. Anyway, I love them both too much, though, so I muscled through.

I’m sorry if this is a little ramble-y and quite silly and I didn’t manage to squeeze in fireworks (I’ve written several fireworks scenes in the past and didn’t want to repeat myself), but what it is is four thousand words long. Also, I managed to remember that Kon exists, this is possibly the first time I have ever put Kon in anything. I hope you like it!

Read on ao3 or ff.net

🎁 🎈 🎊

“Inoue,” Renji hissed. “Why am I here?”

Orihime took a quick step backwards as Keigo ran past, screaming. Ryo followed a second later, also screaming. Renji, who had served at Squad 11 for many years, managed to leap out of the way just in time. “It’s Ichigo’s birthday party,” Orihime explained. “He wanted you to come.”

“It’s not though,” Renji pressed. “It’s Arisawa’s birthday, and we’re at Arisawa’s house. I don’t think Arisawa even knows who I am.”

“Yes, she does, silly,” Orihime replied. “I told her lots of stories about you and she said she wanted you to come. There’ll probably be a football match later, and Ichigo told her we could have you on our team, as long as he got Rukia.”

“I got hauled in all the way from Soul Society for football?” Renji asked, sounding not-at-all upset about this.

“No, I told you! Ichigo wanted you to come.”

“But it’s not his birthday.”

“But it is his party. He and Tatsuki share, you see, because their birthdays are so close and they have all the same friends. It’s Tatsuki’s year to host the big friend party. Ichigo just had a little family party on his actual birthday.”

“Ohhhhh,” Renji replied, finally understanding. He nodded for a moment. “What’s a family party?”

---

Orihime cleared her throat, and tapped her in her palm. “Thank you all for coming to this very important meeting.”

Chad, Ichigo, and Tatsuki were all crammed together on Orihime’s couch. Rukia sat on the arm, next to Chad, Kon in her lap. Uryuu sat in Orihime’s desk chair, which she had hauled in from her room.

Orihime thwapped her pointer against the large pad of paper on an easel that she had borrowed from the Student Health Advisors Club. On the first page, she had drawn a large picture of Renji and written his name. “It has come to my attention that Our Friend Renji has never had a Family Birthday Party.”

“Quick question--” Tatsuki interrupted. “Is he wearing a… fur bolero in that picture? And is the bone dragon an actual thing or just...Orihime artistic spice?”

“It’s a cowl,” Rukia said, at the same time as Chad said, “It’s a stole,” and Uryuu said “It’s a capelet.”

“Thank you, that cleared up nothing,” Tatsuki replied.

“It’s his bankai form,” Ichigo said, grumpily. “His sword turns into a giant flying snake skeleton that screams like a pterodactyl. It’s super sick and he let me ride on it twice and that cape thing is really soft, actually, but he says it gets hot. As far as I know it has nothing to do with his birthday.”

“Er, no, I just got carried away while I was drawing,” Orihime admitted. “Your bankai is very cool, too, Kurosaki-kun.”

“Got it, right,” Tatsuki nodded, sounding very much like she just wanted to move on. “He doesn’t have a family?”

“I think you’re worrying over nothing, Orihime,” Rukia said, sounding a teensy bit defensive. “Many people in Soul Society don’t have families. If there’s anyone in Soul Society who’s good at scraping up friends to spend a holiday with, it’s Renji. Everyone likes him. Half the Gotei turns up at the bar for his birthday parties.”

“I know that,” Orihime said quietly. “I know that because last New Year’s, when I was lonely, he played badminton with me, even though he was very, very hungover and pretending like he wasn’t, and then he went and rounded up all my friends in the middle of the night, and before he left, he told me there was nothing wrong with making your own holiday. But family birthdays are different! Family birthdays are about the people who love you most doing special things, just for you!” Orihime set her jaw. “When I was little, Sora always tried to make my birthdays super special! We didn’t have a lot of extra money, but he would take the day off just to spend it with me and we would go to the park or watch movies or he would let me paint his nails and braid his hair. He would take a picture of me and put it in my special birthday album with my height and weight and current favorite food.” Orihime’s mouth snapped shut. Everyone was staring at her. She’d said too much, just like she always did. Her cheeks started to burn.

“When I was little,” Ichigo suddenly said, a little bit too loud, “my mom told us that we could have whatever we wanted for dinner on our birthdays. One year, I…” he paused, his eyes darting over to Tatsuki. “I had just seen Kiki’s Delivery Service, and I was obsessed with that fish and pumpkin casserole the old lady makes?”

Orihime gasped, and clapped her hands over her mouth.

Uryuu rolled his eyes. “Who wasn’t, Kurosaki?”

Ichigo snorted, but his shoulders relaxed a little. “Anyway, it took her most of the day, and I think she must’ve gotten really frustrated at some point because me and my sisters got sent over to Tatsuki’s house so the Old Man could help her. It came out kind of lumpy and huge, but it was delicious, it was exactly what I had imagined it would taste like.”

“I remember that thing,” Tatsuki added. “She made us come over for dinner because there was so much of it. It was incredible.”

“We didn’t do Birthday Dinners for a few years after she died,” Ichigo said slowly. “But then after Yuzu got good at cooking, she said she wanted to try doing it again. My dad really likes the Godfather movies and he always used to ask for spaghetti for his birthday, which it turns out isn’t that hard to make. Karin and me helped out, and we’ve been doing it again ever since. We don’t usually do fancy stuff, it’s just nice to get to pick.”

“Ichigo made me omurice on my birthday and let me use his body to eat it!” Kon announced.

“You didn’t have to tell everyone that,” Ichigo stammered, turning pink. “It’s the only thing I’m good at making.”

“My abuelo always used to sing Las Mañanitas on my birthday,” Chad put in. “First thing in the morning. Sometimes he would come into my room and wake me up. Sometimes I would come down for breakfast and he would be there, with his guitar. He wouldn’t even say ‘good morning’ until he’d sung Las Mañanitas.”

Orihime’s spirits lifted a little. “See? That’s exactly what I’m talking about!”

Rukia crossed her arms over her chest. “Renji gets up at the crack of dawn. I’m certainly not going over to his place to sing at him while he mixes up his horrible protein beverages.”

“Well, it wouldn’t have to be exactly that,” Orihime went on. “I just thought, since his birthday was coming up in a few weeks, maybe we could throw him a party here, in the World of the Living that was… I don’t know… a little more heartfelt than just going out drinking.”

“I think that’s a very thoughtful idea, Inoue,” Uryuu said.

“Oh! I was worried you wouldn’t want to help, because… you know.”

“I had a row with Ryuuken last week,” Uryuu sniffed. “I’m honestly in the mood to do something nice for a shinigami. Besides, it’s Abarai, he doesn’t really count anymore.” He paused for a moment. “You either, of course, Kuchiki.”

“You wanna have it at my house?” Ichigo offered. “Since me and Tatsuki are the only ones with backyards, and I don’t imagine Tatsuki would want to explain this to her mom.”

“I appreciate that,” Tatsuki put in. “I can help though, if you want. In my family, we like to decorate, and I still have a bunch of streamers and balloons left over from last week.” She gestured at Orihime’s drawing. “We could probably make him a banner or something out of that. It’s pretty good!”

“Oh, that’s such a good idea!” Orihime exclaimed. She should have known her friends would be helpful. She flipped to a new page on her notepad, and began to write things down.

“I can help decorate!” Kon piped up. “I am very artistic, you know!”

“I can bring my guitar,” Chad offered. “I don’t know if Abarai wants to hear me sing…”

Ichigo shoved him in the shoulder. “Shut up. We always want to hear you sing and you never do. If Renji doesn’t want to hear you sing, he’s got no taste and also, he can suck it.”

Rukia rubbed her forehead, like she felt a headache coming on. “Renji goes to all his friends’ poetry readings and community theater and open mic nights. I am sure he would be overjoyed to be serenaded by Chad.”

“What about you, Uryuu?” Orihime asked. “I know you and your father don’t get along, but is there anything that you associate with feeling special on your birthday?”

Uryuu’s face contorted for a moment. “Ah, there is, but I’m sure it’s not helpful.”

“Maybe it will give us an idea,” Chad prodded.

Uryuu frowned. “Well, when I was very small, my mother used to make me a new kimono every year. She was… a very skilled seamstress.” He frowned. “I don’t have Abarai’s measurements, and besides, he couldn’t take it back to Soul Society anyway.”

Kon perked up. “Ichigo! Ichigo, are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Ichigo jabbed a finger Uryuu. “Yuzu just got a bedazzler and she has a ton of t-shirt paint! We could bedazzle him a t-shirt! For his gigai! I’ll even keep it in my closet for him with all of Rukia’s crap!”

“Kurosaki, no,” Uryuu insisted.

“Kurosaki, yes,” Ichigo insisted. “It’s like you’ve never even met the man. I’m gonna make the most Renji t-shirt you’ve ever seen and he’s gonna love it so hard he’ll make me his new best friend.”

“I want to help,” Chad put in.

“You may,” Ichigo replied magnanimously.

“It was my idea-- whoa, Rukia, watch out!” Kon cried as he went tumbling to the ground.

Rukia was practically crawling over Chad, trying to punch Ichigo in the head. “He’s my best friend, you ass!”

“He is for now,” Ichigo replied ominously.

“You are my beloved protege, but I will end you, Kurosaki.”

“Kuchiki-san?” Orihime asked tentatively. “Do you think you could come up with a way to get him to come here? I think it should be a surprise, so you would probably have to make up a story...I understand if you don’t want to.”

Rukia looked up from where she was half-hanging over Chad’s shoulder. “Of course I can do that. I love lying to Renji. He can usually tell when I’m lying to him, but he’ll go along with whatever I say anyway.”

“Oh, good!” Orihime replied, a wave of relief washing over her. She had no idea how they would get Renji here otherwise. Mr. Urahara, maybe. Maybe.

Rukia’s brows creased as she rearranged herself to sit on the back of the couch between Chad and Ichigo. “Did you think I would say no?”

“Well… it didn’t seem like you thought this was a very good idea.”

Rukia’s cheeks colored and she waved her hands. “No, no! It’s not that at all! I think it’s a great idea! It’s really sweet of all of you. Renji’s so easy-going, people always… never mind! I’ll help however I can!”

“Try to find out what meal he might like,” Uryuu suggested. Kon was now sitting on his head. “That sounded nice and I can help cook.”

“That’s a no-brainer,” Rukia replied. “He hasn’t stopped talking about Chad’s burritos since the Advance Team mission ended.”

“Burritos are easy,” Chad agreed, “especially if Uryuu helps.”

“What about you, Rukia?” Tatsuki asked. “You have a brother, right? What do you do for family birthdays in Soul Society?”

Ichigo made a Big Yikes face, and Rukia shoved him in the head again. Orihime had stayed with the Kuchiki siblings when she was training in Soul Society, and while Byakuya could be pretty stiff, she was under the impression that he and Rukia were both working to have a better relationship.

“Kuchiki birthdays are very formal,” Rukia said regally, and then frowned. “Mostly, a bunch of Honored Relatives come over for dinner and you have to wear fancy clothes and it’s kind of a pain.” She thought for a moment. “Brother gave me a beautiful set of colored pencils for my last birthday. It’s hard to buy him presents, because he’s so particular and he usually just buys the things that he wants. He writes a lot of letters, though, so I went to my favorite stationery store and bought him some pretty paper I thought he would like. I figured that if I picked wrong, he could just use it to send letters to people he hates.” Rukia’s eyes softened. “He really liked it, actually. I guess he’s not very used to getting gifts that people have spent any time thinking about.”

“Thoughtful gifts are such a nice idea!” Orihime nodded eagerly.

“It’s hard, though,” Uryuu added, “because of the whole matter conversion issue.”

“What,” Ichigo bit off, “is not thoughtful about a t-shirt covered in rhinestones?”

“If all of you help me think of something, I will buy it for him back in Soul Society,” Rukia promised. “Not sunglasses, though. I already bought him sunglasses.”

“Isn’t his birthday, like a month away?” Ichigo frowned.

“Sometimes I plan ahead! Shut up!” Rukia scowled. “Brother and I also like to make each other cards. Brother is an amazing artist, obviously, mine hardly compare to his, but he is very gracious about my efforts.”

“Oh, that’s a wonderful idea, Rukia!” Orihime agreed, writing down “cards” on her notes. She looked over her list. “I think this is shaping up to be a very good birthday!”

---

“Thanks for agreeing to come along,” Rukia said to Renji when he showed up at her front door on the morning of August 31. “How’s your head?”

“I feel great, but I hydrate tirelessly and also, I wasn’t the one who got into a drinking contest with Captain Komamura. How’s your head?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Rukia replied.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to just go? I’m sure I can-- did I read your text right? Ichigo got his soul stuck in Kon’s lion body and we have to go get him out? I… can probably handle that if you need to stay home and sleep it off.”

“Learn to read, oaf. Ichigo got his soul stuck in Kon’s lion body and we are going to laugh at him. Obviously, I wouldn’t miss that for anything.”

“Ahhhh, okay, that makes a lot more sense!”

“C’mon, we should get moving before Orihime takes pity on him or something.” She waved him inside. “Don’t worry, Brother said it was fine to use the family senkaimon.”

“Ah, good morning, Captain!” Renji said, his voice bright with nervous energy.

Rukia turned around and blinked. Sure enough, Byakuya was looming in the foyer. He had definitely not been in the entry thirty seconds ago.

“Good morning, Lieutenant,” Byakuya replied. “How delightful to see you in my house on a Sunday morning.”

“Brother, we talked about this,” Rukia pressed. “We had a whole discussion.”

Byakuya ignored her and plowed on. “I did not expect to see you today, but since you are here, I have something for you.” He held out a handsome, hardcover book. Gingerly, Renji accepted it and frowned at the cover. “It is the next book in the Tales of the Iron Army series,” Byakuya explained. “You are a fan of that series, are you not?”

Renji’s mouth gaped a little. “This isn’t… out… yet…”

“The publisher is an acquaintance of mine,” Byakuya said, looking off into the middle distance. “He offered me an advance copy, so I asked for two.”

“Uh, um, thanks, sir!” Renji managed.

“Think nothing of it,” Byakuya said stiffly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I am extremely busy this morning.”

Rukia stared, gape-mouthed at the spot where Byakuya had been standing a moment previous. She wasn’t allowed to use shunpo in the house.

“What?” Renji choked out.

“Sometimes people just give him things,” Rukia shrugged, trying to play it off, but secretly fuming. She had told Byakuya that Renji was coming over and to (1) not mention his birthday and (2) not be weird. 0 for 2, Brother.

“Rukia,” Renji reiterated, and when she finally looked over, he was holding up a little slip of cardstock that had apparently been tucked into the front cover of the book. On it was painted a little watercolor Wakame Ambassador. He was wearing a humorous hat. In Byakuya’s immaculate calligraphy were the words ‘Congratulations. You are now older. You will still never defeat me.’ Renji stared at Rukia, as if this were somehow her fault. “W-h-a-t?” he mouthed very slowly and deliberately, no actual sound coming out of his mouth.

“Give me that!” Rukia snapped, grabbing both the book and the card out of his hand. “I told him we were going to the Living World, I don’t know why he couldn’t have given you this when we got back. Mikan!”

Rukia’s loyal maid immediately appeared at her elbow. “Yes, miss?”

Renji blinked. “How does everyone in this house move like that?”

“Hold onto this for Renji until we get back, okay? You can put it with the, um, other stuff.”

“Yes, miss.”

“What other stuff?” Renji asked, a grin tugging at the side of his mouth.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You just said ‘put it with the other stuff’?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You must have misheard, Lieutenant Abarai,” Mikan added sweetly.

“Maybe you should clean your ears out once in a while, dummy,” Rukia suggested.

“Are we really going to the Living World today, or was it just a ploy to get me over here?” Renji asked, doing a double take when he realized that Mikan had disappeared again.

“We’re really going!” Rukia protested, marching into the bowels of the house. “‘A ploy’, ha! You wish.”

“It is my birthday,” Renji pointed out, sounding a little suspicious.

“And we had your birthday party last night! What more do you want?”

“Nothing, actually! Very good birthday, as birthdays go!” He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “Thanks for coming, by the way.”

Rukia rolled her eyes. “As if I wouldn’t come.”

Renji shrugged. “Well…you didn’t, for a long time. And those weren’t as fun. So thanks. For coming.”

Rukia opened her mouth and then closed it again. She didn’t know what to say to that.

Fortunately, Renji had a keen instinct for changing the subject when things got awkward. “Were you there when Rangiku’s boob fell out? She says that since it was the right one, it’s a sign that this is going to be an auspicious year for me.”

“I did! I was talking to Momo and we were basically at Ground Zero when it happened! I can’t believe Hisagi was in the restroom.”

“He’s probably still sobbing about it.”

They continued to recap the best parts of the party as they traveled through the senkaimon and picked up their gigai from Urahara’s, but there was something nagging at Rukia, something that had been nagging at her ever since Orihime, with her giant, squishy heart, had suggested that Renji deserved something better on his birthday, something which Rukia knew was unequivocally true.

“Oi, Renji,” she said suddenly as they turned onto Ichigo’s street. Renji was in the middle of a story about Iba’s sideburns, but she’d heard it before, and they both knew he was only telling it to fill the time.

“Eh?” he replied.

“I, uh, I just wanted to say, I’m sorry that our birthdays were so shitty growing up,” she said quickly. “Sorry in the sympathy sense, not the guilt sense. We were just kids, it’s not like there’s much more we could have done. Just... it sucked and it’s not fair and I’m sorry.”

Renji was staring at her with a look of mild horror on his face. “You thought our birthdays sucked?”

Rukia stared back at him. “They weren’t great, that’s for sure.”

Renji’s face fell a little. “Oh. I’m sorry you feel that way. We… we did try, you know. I remember stealing blankets for your birthday, to make sure we had enough for all of us. We always used to try to make sure we had something to eat that day, too.”

Rukia flushed. “I wasn’t talking about me, dummy!” She paused. “You did? Crap. Now I feel even worse.”

“My birthday’s in August,” Renji shrugged. “We didn’t need to worry about freezing our asses off. And we almost always managed to do something fun that day. Going fishing or making a bonfire or lying on the roof and looking at the stars.” Renji gave a rueful little chuckle. “You know, it’s fun when everyone gets together to get smashed on my birthday, but there are so many people and you can hardly hear what anyone is saying. Those old days… I dunno. I guess maybe they just felt a little more personal. When we were here on Tatsuki and Ichigo’s birthday, Orihime was telling me about family birthdays, and I think our old birthdays were a lot like that. Just some nice time spent with the people I like best.”

“You’re such a sap,” Rukia said, trying to keep her voice from wobbling.

“Like you didn’t know that,” Renji snorted. “I’m definitely gonna give Ichigo a hard time, but I’m actually kinda glad he managed to pull this bonehead move on my actual birthday. It’s a good excuse to come see him, and I got to spend a little quality time with you, to boot. Was kinda nice to see the captain, actually, even though he made a quick exit.” Renji sucked his teeth for a moment. “After we get Ichigo sorted, I don’t ‘spose you’d mind taking a little stroll around town and seeing what the other kids are up to today?”

Rukia had her hand on the gate that led to the Kurosaki back yard. “That… could probably be arranged.” She pushed the gate open.

“SURPRISE!”

Confetti filled the air. Someone was blowing an air horn. Everyone (except Uryuu) was wearing very bedazzled t-shirts. Even Kon, sitting on Chad’s shoulder, wore a tiny one with an even tinier lion on it.

“Happy birthday, Renji!”

“Happy birthday, you old geezer!”

“We made you burritos!”

Rukia looked up at Renji. He had one hand clapped over his mouth and his eyes were wide. “Happy birthday, dumbass,” she said softly.

“Excuse me, I will be right back,” Renji said, turning on his heel and walking out the gate.

Orihime’s eyes went wide. “Oh, no! What did we do?”

Rukia held up her hands. “Just give him a second, he’s fine.”

The Karakura kids barely had time to exchange worried glances when Renji burst back in through the gate, at full volume. “What the Hell is this?” he roared. “And where did you get those t-shirts?”

“We made them!” Ichigo shouted back, and thrust a poorly wrapped bundle into Renji’s hands. “We made you one, too!”

Renji enthusiastically tore open his present and held up its contents. “Rukia,” he gasped. “Rukia, look.”

“Chad drew the Hihiou Zabimaru,” Ichigo explained proudly. “I was the one who wrote ‘OH YEAH!!’”

“It’s so beautiful,” Renji sniffed. “Here, Rukia, hold this!” He shoved the shirt into Rukia’s arms and immediately began to wrestle off the one he was currently wearing.

“Uh… buddy…” Tatsuki frowned, trying to throw her hand up in front of Orihime’s eyes, but also unable to tear her eyes away. “That is… a lot… of tattoos…”

“It’s okay, we’ve all seen it,” Orihime reassured her, pushing Tatsuki’s hand away.

“Never mind seeing it again,” Kon added philosophically.

“How does it look?” Renji asked, once he’d gotten dressed again. He was flexing his biceps for good measure.

“It’s a little tight,” Rukia replied, but it didn’t stop her from looking.

“That’s how hot people wear their clothes, Rukia,” Ichigo informed her. “Get with it.”

“I love this so much!” Renji declared, looking down at his own torso again. “I can’t believe you all made this for me. I am so happy!”

“Brace yourself, Abarai,” Uryuu said, “but this is about 1% of the birthday festivities Orihime planned for you.”

Orihime’s cheeks turned pink and she waved her hands frantically. “Everyone chipped in, I hardly did anything!”

“We know you don’t like cake, so we put a candle in a burrito for you,” Ichigo said, jerking his thumb toward the picnic table. “Come sit in front of it, so Chad can sing you your birthday song.”

“We saved you the lawn chair without any wobbly legs,” Kon added generously.

On his way past, Renji slung his arm around Orihime’s shoulders. “Thanks, kid,” he murmured.

Orihime looked up at him. “You’re our friend and I just wanted you to know how special we think you are on your birthday.”

Renji stared at her for a moment, an expression on his face like he wasn’t sure how to make words come out. Suddenly, he tightened his elbow around his neck and crashed the knuckles of his other hand fiercely into her scalp. “I love all of you, too!” he laughed.

“You can’t noogie Orihime!” Ichigo and Tatsuki yelled at the same time, and promptly tripped over each other in an attempt to tackle him. Uryuu flung a pinecone at Renji’s head. With his typical perfect aim, it would have been a direct hit, except that Kon had leapt from Chad’s shoulder directly into its trajectory and got beaned in the face instead.

Orihime was laughing and shouting “That tickles, that tickles!” Renji was cackling. Chad stood, dumbfounded, his guitar hanging around his neck.

“Rukia… avenge us…” Ichigo groaned from the ground.

“On one hand, it’s his birthday and Renji should get to noogie whomever he wants,” Rukia declared loftily. “On the other hand, Orihime is a precious angel. On the third hand, suck it, Abarai!”

She launched herself at him.

#renji's birthday 2k21 #my writing #please excuse my kon liberties #i've read too many murderlight fics

26 notes · View notes

moonlit-han · 4 years ago

Text

plus one ↠ lee minho

genre: friends to lovers, almost-fake dating au (femme reader) word count: 6.2k warnings: swearing, suggestive (gets steamy at the end), alcohol consumption request: yes (anon) a/n: so this turned out about twice as long as i expected it to . . . there’s a lot to do before you can actually go to a wedding. oh and this includes a guest appearance from park seonghwa of ateez. i promise i think he’s lovely in reality!

✧ masterlist & tag list info in bio ✧

↠↞

You were just sitting down to enjoy a nice cup of tea, which you’d been looking forward to all day, when your phone buzzed. Without even looking at the screen, you already knew who it would be—there was only one person in your life with such uniformly strange timing.

min😼: hey y/n….could you do me a favor? y/n: ……what do you want, minho…. min😼: so my v e r y rich cousin’s wedding is coming up and i need a plus one. it’s fancy, so they want everyone to partnered up and shit min😼: and there will be food. it’ll be good bc these are the rich cousins y/n: oooooh okay, sure! i’m always down for sort of crashing a wedding. when is it? min😼: it’s next weekend min😼: shit please tell me you have a fancy dress y/n: lee minho, are you seriously telling me i have to go buy a fancy dress?? min😼: maybe;;;; y/n: you’re coming with me and paying for half min😼: sure, fine with me y/n: wait seriously? you’re actually gonna do that? min😼: yeah, why not? y/n: nvm~ y/n: so should we go dress shopping tomorrow evening? min😼: sounds good to me! want me to pick you up after i get off work? y/n: 👉🏼👈🏼 please? min😼: you’re damn lucky you’re cute. y/n: see you then!

You closed your phone, still trying to process the fact that you were going to a wedding with Minho. He was a good friend—you’d met a few years ago and had a bit of a love-hate relationship. But ultimately, you agreed that being friends would be much better than not. In the time since, you’d become those kinds of friends who casually held hands, cuddled whenever possible, and shared clothes more than Minho actually realized. (You’d gotten quite good at stealing his t-shirts and sweatpants).

Your friends were convinced the two of you should date but you both just waved them off. Even his family thought you were dating—Minho hadn’t exactly told them they were wrong, though, unbeknownst to you. And now here you were about to go to a wedding with him. When you woke up that morning, you definitely hadn’t been expecting that. But now, you were actually looking forward to what would certainly be a memorable occasion.

Minho picked you up around 5:15 pm and you headed to the mall, circling the parking lot for a few minutes until you found a spot. When you exited the car, the wind blew your hair into your eyes; you heard your traitor of a friend snort as he saw what had happened. Getting your hair back under control, you walked toward the mall entrance. Once inside, you started in the direction of the large department store. But before you could Minho pulled you along with him instead.

At your confused look, he said, “If we’re getting you a dress for a black-tie wedding, then we’re getting you a good quality one.” You opened your mouth to object, thinking of how much it would cost. “No, don’t argue, Y/N.”

Deciding it would be best not to go against Minho when he clearly had a plan, you just closed your mouth and went with it. Minho let go of the fabric of your tank top after several strides, but made sure that you stayed with him—the mall was more crowded than you’d expected. So, after almost losing twice, Minho decided to just go for it and hold your hand. He pulled you close to his side, his hand familiar and reassuring in yours.

You made your way to what you suspected was the most expensive formalwear boutique in the entire mall, feeling self-conscious in your jeans and tank top. The shop attendant, a cheery elderly woman, came hurrying up to you and Minho, fluttering around you rather like a butterfly.

“Hello, I’m Violet! How may I help you all? What’s the special event?” she chirped, giving the two of you what she must have thought was a sly smile.

Crap, you thought, we must look like a couple. Again. You tried to extricate your hand from Minho’s, but he just shifted to lace his fingers with yours and held on tight.

“We’re attending a black-tie wedding,” Minho said, straight to the point as always. “I already have my tuxedo, but Y/N, here, needs a dress. Do you have anything in burgundy?”

You looked at Minho, not expecting him to take the lead in buying a dress, much less choose a color.

“Of course!” said Violet. “Y/N, was it? If you’ll follow me so we can get your measurements and such? Your gentleman friend can wait on the sofa over there.” She pointed to a sleek looking seating area clearly meant for those who accompanied the boutique’s many clients.

“I’d prefer to come back with her and see the dresses,” Minho said, surprising you yet again. The attendant’s smile grew wider as, still holding your hand, Minho walked with you through the maze of evening gowns to the fitting rooms.

“Oh, well, all right,” the elderly woman agreed grudgingly. “But I must insist you stay out of the dressing room. That would simply be one step too far, young man!”

Minho laughed lightly and assured her, “I’ll stay well away, madam. No worries.”

“You had better.” Violet turned to you, holding out a tape measure and a little pad of paper with a miniature pen attached to it. “Have you measured yourself before? Good. Just write it all down and we’ll see what size you need.”

You glanced back at Minho before entering the dressing room—he was leaning against the wall opposite from the Violet, as far from your dressing room as he could get. After a few minutes of wrestling with the tape measure, you emerged and handed over the pad of paper.

“Okay, my dear,” Violet said, “come with me and we’ll see about some styles. What colors, besides burgundy, would you like to try on?”

You thought for a moment, following carefully through the racks upon racks of dresses and suits. “Emerald, black, and teal,” you said before you thought better of saying you’d wear black to a wedding.

Nodding, Violet stopped in front of a long display of gowns that ranged from a deep red that was almost black to the brightest red you’d ever seen. “I’ll just go see what I can find for you, dear,” she said before moving off.

Your eyes darted from dress to dress to dress, the shades and fabrics nearly overwhelming you—you’d never seen so many formal gowns in one place before. Occasionally, you took down a dress to look at it more closely, and soon your arms were weighed down with ten dresses. As you made your way back to the fitting rooms, Violet reappeared carrying five dresses of her own, all in the colors you’d mentioned.

“Now, you just go in there and get these on as best as you can, and I’ll help you with any zippers or ties that you can’t get to.” Violet smiled kindly as she ushered you into the fitting room.

You undressed and slipped the first gown on, trying not to step on the hem, but it was difficult not to. The dressmakers seemed to have assumed that everyone was unusually tall. After straightening the neckline a little and smoothing your hair, you stepped out of the fitting room.

“So, how do you like it?” you asked Minho, who was still lounging against the wall.

“Eh,” he shrugged, “I’m not crazy about the color, but your hips look great.”

“You—” you began, but stopped because you were in public. Now he commenting on your hips! That was a new one. So, you went back to try on another dress. Each of the next five dresses you paraded in front of your friend somehow didn’t live up to whatever expectations he had for your gown.

You sighed and pouted a little after the sixth dress. “Min, what’s wrong with this one? I like it, plus it’s comfortable! And I’m the one wearing it, anyway.”

“Yeah, but you don’t know this side of the family. They expect everything and everyone to be and look perfect.”

“Well, shit,” you grumbled.

“Here,” Minho offered, “I’ll go see if I can find you a dress. Just sit tight for a minute.” Before you could say anything to the contrary, he’d turned and headed into the maze of gowns.

“Your Minho is sweet, offering to find you a dress,” Violet said as she helped you unzip the dress.

“I guess,” you said grudgingly. “I’m not sure he actually knows what to look for, though.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised,” Violet grinned at you in the mirror.

While you waited, you looked back through the dresses you’d already tried on, thinking you’d choose one in case Minho couldn’t find the perfect dress himself. The deep teal dress kept drawing your eye, but you weren’t sure if it was too formal.

“Y/N?” Minho called from outside the fitting room. “Open up so I can give you this dress.”

You took the dress, just barely peaking out from behind the door, and hung it on one of the hooks specifically for the gowns. It was, as you’d suspected, a deep burgundy and not too puffy in the skirt. You weren’t sure about the beading around the bodice, though. But, you’d try it on for Minho—even if just to prove him wrong if it looked horrible.

After struggling with the corseting in the back, you decided to ask for Violet’s help. Ever obliging, she slipped into the changing room and helped lace you into the gown. Somehow, it fit perfectly and you didn’t even have to hold your breath or anything.

When he saw you in the gown, Minho wolf-whistled. “Damn, Y/N,” he said appreciatively. “You look . . . hot. Yeah.” He paused. “Now aren’t you glad I picked a dress for you? I even made sure it wasn’t too expensive.”

“Yeah, thank you, Min,” you said, smiling at him. “I really look hot?” Suddenly, you were very conscious of the dress’s low neckline.

“No, you look really hot. It’s the best one so far. Is it comfortable?”

“I— Okay, I guess I’ll get this one, then,” you said, surprised at how easy a decision it was. “It’s actually super comfortable.”

“Perfect,” Minho said. “Everyone will be entranced by how gorgeous you are.”

Trying to ignore that last comment, you said, “And, um, Violet? Could you help me again?” You were a bit embarrassed to be buying a piece of clothing you couldn’t get into by yourself. Your roommate would just have to help.

As you changed back into your street clothes, Violet and Minho went up to the register. You thought over how much you’d be paying for the dress, and were quite glad that Minho had agreed to pay for half.

“So,” you said as you reached the register, “how much do I owe?”

Violet gave you a little wink. “You don’t owe anything, dear. It’s all taken care of. There was even a discount on this dress!”

You turned on Minho. “You didn’t….”

“Don’t worry about it, Y/N. Okay?” Minho almost sounded defensive, but maybe he was just tired.

“But I—”

“I said don’t worry about, babe,” Minho interrupted. “See? Now I don’t have to get you a birthday present this year.” Minho sent you a sly grin and a wink. You just rolled your eyes.

“You’ll have to excuse me for saying so,” Violet tittered, breaking the slight tension in the air, “but you two make such a lovely couple. It seems to me you’ll be planning your own wedding soon!”

You blushed. You knew you blushed. How could you not have?

“Thank you, ma’am,” Minho said smoothly. “That’s still quite far in the future, though.” He gave Violet one of his winning smiles that never ceased to make parents, teachers, disagreeable elderly ladies, and, of course, you feel like the most important and lovely person in the world.

“Oh! Well, whenever the happy day is, I wish you both well. Enjoy!” Violet handed you the long dress bag and waved as you left the store.

“Lee Minho, what exactly was that all about?” you demanded once you were well away from the boutique.

“What was what all about?” Minho replied, feigning innocence as he ambled along, hands in his pockets.

“You know what.” You tried not to sound petulant. “Why did you pretend we’re getting married or something?”

“It makes ladies like her happy to think of the younger generation settling down. Besides, she seemed like she needed something exciting in her life. Now, she’ll just spend the rest of the day imagining our wedding, even though she’ll never see us again. See? She gets a daydream and we got the clearly made-up “Cute Couple Discount.” Minho slung an arm around your shoulders, jostling you slightly. “Come on, buttercup,” he chuckled, “am I really that hideous for you to hate even pretending?”

Still nonplussed, you shook your head and shoved Minho with your hip—that didn’t stop him from keeping his arm around your shoulders, though. You didn’t reply, since the truth was too embarrassing to even admit.

↠↞

You cursed yourself for a fool as you tried to put on the dress for the wedding. Today just had to be the day your roommate wasn’t around. First, you’d tried lacing it up with the dress back-to-front and slipping it around yourself to just tighten the laces. When that didn’t work, you tried lacing it up loosely and then pulling tight. It still wouldn’t cooperate. Well, there was only one thing for it now.

y/n: ….min you’re on your way, right? min😼: yeah of course y/n: i need help with my dress😩🙃😩 min😼: ok. i’ll be there in 5 mins y/n: thanks!!! you’re the best!!!!😭💕💕💕 min😼: i know

You hurriedly wrestled your hair into a bun, thankful that you could get away with such a simple style. With your makeup already done, you waited by the door, your shoes and a small clutch in one hand and the other holding up the bodice of your dress. This was going to be . . . interesting.

Minho knocked the door and you called, “It’s open!” just as he discovered that very thing. The door opened and—

Lee Minho in a tuxedo was a sight to behold. You wolf-whistled, smirking at your best friend. In response, Minho just raised his eyebrows and inclined his head toward you, as if to say, “You don’t look bad yourself.” You noticed twin flags of pink on his cheeks, too.

“Okay,” Minho said, taking a deep breath as he saw you waiting there in the entryway, “turn around. It’s just simple lacing, right?”

“It should be simple,” you grumbled, “but not for me!”

“I’ve got it, buttercup.” You smiled at that—Minho had recently taken to calling you that nickname far more often than before. “Hold the dress up until I’ve got most of the laces done up, okay?”

Without hesitation, Minho deftly began to draw the laces through the eyes of the corset, occasionally grumbling when one didn’t cooperate. Shortly, you were laced into your dress and Minho was tightening everything to your comfort level. His breath tickling the hairs on the back of your neck was horribly distracting.

“Is this good?” he asked. “I don’t want to squish your lungs.”

“I’m fine! It’s actually perfect” You turned to face Minho, and he had to step back quickly so as not to be hit in the nose with the crown of your head.

“All right, then let’s get going. I don’t want to be late—they’d never forgive me.” Minho then tried to shunt you out your own door, but you threatened him with one of your heels.

While the wedding wasn’t too far outside the city, it would still take you and Minho an hour to get there. You hoped it wouldn’t be too hot, since there was nothing worse than body odor on formalwear. Lifting the hem of your dress, you all but clambered into Minho’s car and buckled your seatbelt. A moment later, you were heading toward the highway, your windows down and Minho easily guiding the car between the light traffic. He even let you choose which music you’d listen to—a rare honor. One or two people glanced over at you at stoplights, but you ignored them. What was wrong with dressing up a little . . . or a lot?

“I just want to tell you a few things before we get there,” Minho said when you were ten minutes away from the venue. You nodded. “Like I said, these are the rich cousins. Everyone will be dressed in black tie attire and acting like they know how to behave. They don’t. I don’t particularly want to get boisterously drunk, but most everyone else will. I can’t promise there won’t be debauchery, especially since it’s an outdoor wedding—lots of shadows to slip off to.” He paused, thinking of what else to warn you about. “Oh, and then there’s Great-Aunt Mia. She’s a handful, to say the least, and likes to comment on everyone’s life decisions. Even if she doesn’t know you, she’ll still find some way to be condescending.”

You gave Minho an incredulous look. “And why exactly did you want to go to this wedding if it’s going to be such a shit show?”

“Hey, it won’t be that bad,” Minho countered. “But yeah, I think that’s all I wanted to say.”

“I’ll just stick with you, since I won’t know anyone there,” you said brightly.

As he turned down the long drive lined with an old yew hedge that led to the mansion on whose grounds the wedding would occur, Minho flashed a radiant smile at you.

It was going to be good night.

↠↞

The wedding ceremony itself was beautiful, and you were almost moved to tears along with everyone else, despite not knowing the newlyweds. And no matter how much you tried, you couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that Minho was sitting next to you, his thigh warm against yours and impossible to ignore. When everyone stood to congratulate the happy couple, Minho put his hand on your shoulder, gently rubbing the back of your neck. While cuddling and causal touches were normal between the two of you, something had definitely changed in the past week and you weren’t sure what to make of it.

There was a bit of time between the actual ceremony and the reception, so you and Minho decided to go back to his car and nap. It felt a little odd napping in a formal gown, but you didn’t much care. Sleep was always important in your world. You and Minho laid the seats back as far as they’d go and rolled all the windows down to tempt in a breeze. Just as you were falling asleep, you felt Minho’s hand slip into yours. As if on reflex, you laced your fingers in his.

When you woke to Minho’s obnoxious alarm song, you were still holding hands.

“Ready to party?” Minho wiggled his eyebrows at you, sitting up. “We get to see my relatives make fools of themselves!”

“Oh, you know I am. That’s my favorite pastime,” you said, clapping your hands like an excited child.

“I knew there was a reason I kept you around,” Minho said, and you reached out to swat him.

Once you stood outside the car, you decided to redo your bun—you didn’t particularly want to look like you’d just been asleep—but, Minho gently stopped you.

“It looks better loose,” he said, reaching out to carefully place your hair so it sweetly framed your face. It was such a tender gesture that it made your heart ache. So, you left your hair down and, still hand-in-hand with Minho, made your way toward the large tent under which the celebration was just getting under way.

For dinner, you and Minho were seated with some of his younger cousins and their friends. You felt utterly out of your depth, since you didn’t spend much time with fifteen year-olds. They peppered the two of you with questions about adulthood. Thankfully, Minho had been right: there was more than enough food and it was delicious. The wine to go with dinner was excellent, too. You had to stop yourself from going back for thirds of one dish. And when the cake came out, you could barely contain your glee over how good it was. Minho even managed to put a dab of icing on your nose, and laughed himself silly at your look of betrayal.

As tradition dictated, the newlyweds had the first dance. It was sweet and a bit somber. You held back as Minho went to dance as soon as everyone else was invited to dance. The younger cousins flocked to the dance floor like geese. Minho danced exuberantly, joyously, and you couldn’t help smiling at him whenever he faced you. Without his suit coat, he could move freely as any leaf on the wind, and all too quickly, he was lost to you as more and more people flooded the dance floor.

“Hey,” a voice behind you said. You hadn’t noticed anyone approach as you watched a couple in front of you dance their hearts out. Looking up, your eyes met those of an incredibly handsome young man you’d seen in the bridal party. His tuxedo looked so normal that it practically screamed that it cost more than you’d care to imagine.

You gave him a mildly confused look. “Hello?”

“Oh, come on, that’s no way to talk to a kind gentleman simply saying ‘Hello,’” the man said.

“I don’t know you,” you said uncertainly.

“True. Park Seonghwa at your service.” He left space at the end of the sentence, expecting you to provide your name. You didn’t. But that didn’t stop him. “So,” he continued, pulling out a chair next to you and straddling it, “what’s a beautiful woman like you doing sitting over here when you could be dancing?”

“I just didn’t feel like dancing yet,” you said, keeping your voice even, and took a sip of your wine. “I could ask you the same thing.”

Seonghwa looked affronted. “Do you see this suit? There’s no way I can dance in this!”

You laughed—you couldn’t help it, not when this preening popinjay was being so ridiculous. And, of course, he took your laughter as a sign that he was doing something right and proceeded to shift his chair closer to yours. A waft of his cloying cologne hit you like a freight train and you coughed lightly, leaning away.

“If I’m supposed to dance in this gown, then you can definitely dance in that suit,” you said mockingly.

“Ah! Care to dance with me, then, beautiful?” Seonghwa stood and held out his hand, expecting you to take it. He had the air about him that he was used to getting what he wanted. “Or we could go somewhere private and I can show you my . . . moves.”

“No, I don’t. I’m not going to dance or do anything else with someone I just met, especially one so cocky as you.” You turned away from Seonghwa to resume watching the guests dancing. A moment later, your view was eclipsed by the thing very person you were trying to avoid.

“Could you move?” you asked peevishly. “Whatever you want, I’m not interested.”

“Why don’t you want to dance with me, hmm?” Seonghwa demanded. “Aren’t I handsome enough?”

“Is that all you can talk about? How handsome you are?” you snapped. “I said I’m not interested, and that should be enough.” Your thoughts raced—usually only one thing worked on guys like this. “Besides, I have a boyfriend.”

Seonghwa made to grab your hand to pull you out of your seat, but stopped as a hand clasped his shoulder. “Ah. Seonghwa. I shouldn’t be surprised. Kindly fuck off, won’t you?” Minho said as brightly as the glint of sunlight off a lake on a summer’s day. His hair was slightly disheveled from dancing, but that didn’t stop him from looking like a prince to you. In fact, it only helped.

“Minnie!” Seonghwa cried, turning to face Minho. “It’s good to see you! It’s been too long.”

“Hmm, I’d say not long enough,” Minho muttered, but Seonghwa wasn’t paying attention.

“I was just about to dance with— You know, I never did catch this lovely creature’s name.”

“And I’m still not going to give it to you,” you insisted, angry that you’d been called a “lovely creature.”

“Seonghwa, really. Go bother someone else.” Minho’s voice was still calm, but it had an edge to it. “I’m tired of your shit.”

“Oh, I see how it is,” Seonghwa said, looking between you and Minho. Then, sensing that he couldn’t charm his way out of this situation, he stalked off in the direction of the bar.

Letting out a sigh, Minho came to stand by you and gently rubbed your back. The cut of your gown was such that his hand only met bare skin, and you felt a shiver pass over you. A few minutes passed as you both simply watched the gyrating crowd.

“Is he always like that?” you asked suddenly.

Minho looked down at you, brows furrowed slightly. “Hmm?”

“Is Seonghwa always such a dick? I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so insufferable and narcissistic,” you run a hand through you hair, the picture of annoyance.

“Yeah,” Minho says sadly. “He’s never really understood that the life he’s used to isn’t everyone else’s reality. And it doesn’t help that he knows he’s disgustingly handsome.”

You giggled. “That’s the perfect way to put it.”

A slow, mellow love song began to play and the young cousins back to the table, too embarrassed to remain on the dance floor. Minho leaned down to your ear and said, “Why don’t you come dance, now. I think the young ones are about to start annoying us again. I promise I won’t leave you on the side this time.”

Smiling, you stood, and Minho’s hand went to your waist as he drew you out onto the dance floor. The skirt of your gown swirled around you most satisfyingly. Dancing with Minho had always been easy, since all you had to do was follow his lead and hope you didn’t trip over your own feet. Tonight was no different. With one hand at your waist and the other between your shoulder blades, Minho held you close to him as you carefully swayed and sometimes twirled together. Your arms had automatically gone to loop around the back of his neck, which made you think of all the times you’d done that with silly guys in high school. Minho laughed, surprised but pleased.

You were aware of Minho’s fingers gently weaving in and out of the ends of your hair, almost as if he didn’t want you to know. You brushed your thumb against the soft hair at the nape of his neck, and he sucked in a breath. Something had changed between you and Minho in the past two weeks, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. There was just something about being at a wedding that made you feel especially romantic.

“Lee Minho!” came a slightly hoarse and distinctly peevish voice.

“Oh no,” Minho groaned and rested his forehead on your head, clearly hoping you could hold him up that way.

“Is that your great-aunt Mia,” you whispered, glancing over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of the elderly woman hurriedly making her way toward you. Her wispy white hair formed a cloud around her head, much like a dandelion gone to seed. When dancers didn’t move from her quickly enough, she rapped them on the ankles with her gnarled cane.

“Mhmm,” Minho grimaced.

“Should she be on the dance floor?” you asked, concerned.

“Probably not.”

“Lee Minho, what do you think you’re doing?” Great-Aunt Mia said, knocking her cane into Minho’s calves so he nearly fell into you.

“Hello, Aunt Mia,” Minho said, turning to face the disagreeable woman; he kept his hand on your waist, though.

“Don’t you take that tone with me, young man!”

“Sorry, Aunt Mia. I wish I could have visited you, I really do, but school’s just been so busy. I hope you’ve been well.” You could tell by the set of his shoulders that Minho was trying not to be sarcastic toward his elder relative, and decided to snake your arm around his waist. For moral support.

“Minho, you didn’t tell me you have a girlfriend. You will introduce us.” Great-Aunt Mia didn’t ask to be introduced; no, she commanded.

“Oh, right,” Minho said, and Great Aunt Mia glared, as if Minho’s lapse in cordiality was a high crime. “Great Aunt Mia, may I present my girlfriend, Y/N L/N.”

If you’d just taken a sip of your now abandoned wine, you would have spluttered. You couldn’t believe what you’d just heard. Girlfriend? You’d certainly entertained the idea in your wildest, most private daydreams, but never thought of it seriously. Minho always negated any suggestion of you being a couple, so, surely, he was joking this time, too. He had to be. After all, you’d been mistaken for a couple more times than you could count.

“Well, girl?” Great-Aunt Mia’s voice cut through your thoughts like a hot knife through butter. All around you, the other guests continued dancing.

“I’m so sorry,” you said, nearly tripping over your words as you raced to get them out. Great-Aunt Mia was scary. “It’s very nice to meet you, ma’am.” You weren’t sure if you should courtesy or hold out your hand to shake hers or what—this interacting-with-rich-people thing mildly unnerved you.

“Oh, call me Aunt Mia—everyone does!” Great-Aunt Mia chortled, then, she peered at you. “So, you’ve won the heart of our darling Minho, have you? Well, what do you do?”

“I—” you began, then had to swallow. “I’m still in college, ma’am, but I have a part-time job at a bookstore.” There was no way you were going to call this harpy of a woman “Aunt Mia.”

“Well, that’s good,” she said, making it clear that she did not think it good in the least. “I’m sure you’ll be a fine wife for Minho. Don’t embarrass us, please.”

Her pronouncement hung in the air as you and Minho simply stared. Then, Great-Aunt Mia sharply turned her head to the side, like a fox that had just sensed a vole nearby, and hobbled away into the crowd of dancers. Even after you could no longer see her, you knew where she went by the yelps of pain from those unfortunate enough to get in her way.

“So, where were we?” Minho said, pulling you around to face him again. As he did so, his hands came to rest on your hips, much lower than before. You could feel the heat of his skin through the thin fabric of your dress.

Before you could say anything, Minho stiffened as he looked up and past you. “I need you to make out with me,” he said quickly, bringing his lips to your ear. “Please, I’m begging, Y/N. I’ll explain later.”

“Wha—” was all you got out before Minho’s lips were on yours. Without thinking, you fit your lips more perfectly to his and kissed back. He tasted of sweet icing, white wine, and the salt of sweat from dancing. You clung to him, holding on for dear life as reality seemed to shimmer like a veil in front of you. And, Minho clearly thought now was not the time for half-measures, since he’d roughly pulled your hips to his—you could tell his pants were feeling far too tight at the moment. You gasped against his lips as he slid his tongue into your mouth. Minho cupped the back of your head, still holding your hip like a lifeline in a storm.

“Hey, if you’re not gonna dance, get off the dance floor!”

“Get a room!”

“Ooooh, hot!”

You broke the kiss, blushing at the comments from people around you and at how enthusiastically you’d kissed him back. You were both panting slightly.

“Min,” you breathed. “What was that— Why— We just—”

Minho interrupted you with another peck on the lips, then pulled you with him off the dance floor. “Let’s get out of here.”

You followed Minho out from under the tent, away from the people and lights and wine that flowed like Dionysus himself presided over the bar. The memory of the softness of Minho’s lips on yours buzzed through your veins, making you feel warm honey. When you reached an old maple, you stopped, still holding hands.

“Minho, why did we just make out?” you said, looking up into his face. “Not that I minded!” you added quickly.

“Seonghwa was coming toward us and he, well—” Minho looked uncomfortable. “He has a history of trying take away the people I’m dating. I wasn’t about to let him get you.”

“But, we’re not dating . . .” you said, hearing how uncertain you sounded and mentally kicking yourself.

“He didn’t have to know that,” Minho said, his voice firm. “I still didn’t want him worming his way between us.” He reached up and lightly ran his fingertips along the line of your cheekbone. You couldn’t help yourself—you leaned into his touch.

The winking of fireflies in the trees on the far side of the lawn made it look like Minho was surrounded by stars. The next words you spoke took all your courage, and then some, to say. “What if we did date, Min?”

Minho didn’t bother with a lengthy speech detailing the reasons he wanted you. He didn’t fall to his knees and clutch at your skirts, professing his love in verse. He didn’t walk away. Instead, Minho cupped your face in his hands and brought his mouth to yours again.

“Yes, yes,” he said in between kissing your cheeks, your lips, your eyelids, everywhere he could. “Oh Y/N, love, please.” The last word came out a little strangled.

You ran your fingers through Minho’s hair, holding him to you as you all but devoured each other. The fabric of your dress against your skin suddenly felt too tight, and all you wanted to do was yank it off yourself. Instead, you settled for untying Minho’s bowtie and starting on his buttons. At the same time, he began working at the lacing of your gown.

“We,” Minho gasped, “should go back to the car. We can’t just— Not under a tree.”

You giggled at how close you’d come to tearing each other’s clothes off in the middle of a public lawn. While it was still early in the evening, it wasn’t that dark yet. “Come on, then,” you grinned. “We can time how long it takes you to undo the lacing of this fucking dress.”

It turned out that Minho was more adept at unlacing things than you’d expected, and you were soon out of your dress. Minho’s shirt was gone, too. So, clothed in far less than what you’d arrived at the wedding in, you straddled Minho’s lap in the backseat of his car. His lips on your skin felt like the fire that the fireflies in the surrounding trees seemed to hold. But his kisses were still the best, making you feel as though you partook of the sweetest ambrosia.

Your hands were still in his hair as his roamed your back and down to grip your thighs. Minho pulled you closer to him and nuzzled your neck, sucking on the sensitive skin there. Every time you ground your hips into his, Minho let out a moan so pretty that you thought you could listen to it every day. You were sure that you’d blaze up in a pillar of flame at any moment, you felt so full of frenetic energy.

The heat between the two of you grew steadily until it was all you could do not to cry out. Minho’s body covered you, warm and lithe, and soon he murmured your name over and over and over again. Fireflies danced behind your eyes.

“I love you, Y/N,” Minho whispered, holding you to his chest as you curled up on the seat together—your dress made a surprisingly good blanket. “I love you so much.”

“Min, please tell me you mean that,” you said, not daring to believe that you weren’t just dreaming, even after everything that you’d just done.

“I do mean it, buttercup,” Minho said, kissing your temple. “And I’ll mean it every day of my life. I promise.”

519 notes · View notes

xxx-cat-xxx · 4 years ago

Text

heaven forbid (you end up alone)

Two years on and I'm still not over Endgame. But at least I finally finished this fic!

A word of warning; this one is Endgame-compliant and centred around the topic of grief and Pepper’s and Happy’s friendship in the aftermath of Tony’s death.

Major thanks to @twentyghosts for beta reading.

Throughout her life, Pepper has always divided her days into small pieces, regulated by meticulous plans. She can’t remember ever waking up without a mental―or written―to-do list and a clear idea in which order to tackle it. It’s her way of managing a multinational company. Of managing Tony, which was arguably more challenging than SI’s 300,000 other employees combined. Of managing her own alien-invaded, super power-sprinkled, increasingly absurd life.

And whenever things get overwhelming and she feels like she’s falling into a bottomless, desperate pit, that’s what she does: plans the next 30 minutes, and then the 30 minutes after that, and so on until it’s one thirty am and she is tired enough to fall into bed without having to think about anything except what’s ticked off on the list and what’s left for tomorrow.

That’s what she does now, seven weeks after her husband’s death.

This Saturday is booked for tidying up the closets. There is no need to keep Tony’s clothes, other than a few special ones for memory’s sake, the band shirts and the ones with the science puns she still likes to sleep in. And it would be a waste to wait any longer to donate them: even two months on, there is more than enough need out in the streets due to the chaos that came on after the reverse.

Homeless people wearing 5000 dollar suits, that would have been to Tony’s taste.

Pepper has cleared her schedule well in advance, picked a weekend Morgan can stay with Rhodey, already ordered the Dress for Success pick-up for the next morning. Made a plan of action, starting with the top floor.

All that’s left now is to do it.

“Okay, Virginia,” she tells herself. The name feels unfamiliar on her tongue, but maybe she needs this, needs the reminder that she had a life before Tony Stark and, as horrible as it sounds, will have one after him. “Get up. Drink some water. Go through the closets.”

It’s just that she can’t.

She enters the bedroom, their bedroom, her bedroom, opens the cupboard. And then she stands in front of it for almost twenty minutes, unable to bring herself to move.

Finally, her legs grow a bit weak under her and she has to sit down on the floor, less and less successfully fighting the feeling that the air around her is completely devoid of oxygen. She can’t breathe. She can’t get up. She can’t walk over to the closet and get started with the next item on her list―it’s as if there’s an invisible barrier between her and the task. She just can’t.

It takes her almost 45 minutes before she finally calls Happy.

Much like Tony, Pepper is someone who distracts herself with work, and looking after Morgan, organising the funeral and getting the Stark Foundation into motion to set up shelters for four million Returned without a place to go have been tasks so time-consuming that she didn’t have any other option than just to function, and function well. Almost well enough to trick herself into believing that she’ll be fine.

Sometimes she wonders whether she has become so good at perfecting the image she shows to the public that she doesn’t even know anymore who she actually is.

“Hey.”

She hadn't noticed Happy’s presence until he is standing in the doorframe.

“Happy,” she greets, her voice sounding foreign to her own ears.

“Oh, Pepper.” He looks her up and down, his expression equal parts sad and kind. “Come on. Let’s get you up from the floor.”

She pushes away his hands helping her up, she doesn’t need them, doesn’t need any help, but then the world blurs suddenly and she kind of does. Happy steadies her when she sways, alarmed but not as surprised as she’d want him to be. It would irritate her, on normal days, because she can take care of herself, doesn’t need anyone to hold her, thank you very much. But today she is just a bit too tired to pretend.

"Have you eaten?" he asks, voice still too warm when he guides her over to the bed and sits her down.

“I had...tea this morning.”

“And last night?”

She is silent. He sighs, and she deflects, “Haven’t had much of an appetite lately.”

“Alright, I’ll go find us some food. Just stay here.”

“Thanks, Happy,” she says quietly.

He sighs again. “It’s alright. I knew this was going to happen sooner or later. I’m just glad I’m here.”

She nods. She knew it too, that she wouldn’t be able to distract herself forever, even if she wouldn’t admit it to herself. But that’s the thing. She wasn’t afraid of it happening, only of the After―of things calming down and her having to deal with the lonely, horrible, rest of her life. Of realising that the inevitable breakdown doesn’t help a single bit. That picking up the pieces is not in the least easier than keeping them together.

Happy returns 15 minutes later with a big bag of cavity-inducing gas station doughnuts, sprinkles and all. The mere thought of biting into one makes Pepper’s stomach roll.

“I’m not sure I can eat those,” she tells him when he sits next to her on the bed and leans against the headboard.

“Just try.”

She does, fighting down the looming nausea, and, surprisingly, the sweetness helps. She breathes out, one and a half doughnuts and a small bottle of orange juice later, and finds that her head feels clearer.

“Morgan would love this,” she observes, nodding at the rest of the treats. “She’s been trying to bully me into making her waffles for breakfast every single morning of the last whole month.”

“So, did she succeed?”

Pepper shakes her head. “It’s bad for her health. But she keeps throwing tantrums. I know it’s because of what happened, but god, she's been so difficult. The way she shouts at me, sometimes I think she hates me.”

Happy sets down his reusable coffee cup and looks straight at her. “She doesn't, Pepper."

She can’t stop herself from snorting. “How would you possibly know?”

“I can see the way she looks at you. Looks up to you. She adores you.”

“I…” Pepper bites her lip, unable to decide whether that’s something she wants to share. Life has taught her that it’s usually better to keep your weaknesses to yourself if you want to stay on top. But then, it’s not like there is any competition of people wanting to parent her daughter. “I don’t know about that. I know she misses Tony, but I also feel that she misses...a parent who knows how to handle her. I’m not―sometimes I’m afraid I’m not a very good mother.”

“That’s not true, Pep, and you know it.”

She takes a deep breath. “I never wanted to have children, Happy. I mean, it’s not that I didn’t want Morgan, once we decided in favour of me getting pregnant. And I never regretted having her. But it was mostly Tony who pushed for this, who needed this. He has - had - a way with kids...you know, I can be strict, but he can―could―get her to do what is necessary without even having to raise his voice. And sometimes I just wonder―what if I ruin it, Happy? She only has me.”

“Firstly, that’s not true. Rhodey and I are here for you too. You got your sister, and I’m sure Peter would be more than happy to babysit as well. There’s more than biological parents for a kid, you know that better than anyone, right?”

She nods, hesitantly.

“And secondly,” he continues, “You are doing great under the circumstances. Nobody is born a parent. But if you’re good at anything, then it is to adapt to difficult situations. You can do this, Pepper.”

“Yeah, I know… I know I can.”

And that’s exactly the point. Pepper has always pulled through. Everyone expects her to keep functioning, and she isn’t one to miss people’s expectations. But sometimes she wonders if she’s still alive in there.

They finish up the doughnuts and start tackling the clothes. It goes surprisingly smoothly, and Happy even coaxes a few hesitant chuckles out of her when he fishes a gold-glittery mankini and a few other special-occasion items out of the far corner of Tony’s wardrobe. They are three boxes in and have moved one floor down when Pepper takes a break to pee and wash the dust off her face in the guest bathroom.

Tony’s shaver is lying on the edge of the sink. He must have been shaving here the day he left for the compound, likely because Pepper or Morgan were using the upstairs bathroom, and left it there. She always tells him to put it back in the cupboard and he always forgets―forgot. She picks it up, ready to put it where it belongs, when it hits her.

It’s futile. It’s a personal shaver of a man who’s never going to need one again. Nobody’s ever going to use this particular shaver again. She could just as well throw it away.

Pepper feels anger burn hot and fierce in her chest. She opens her mouth, to scream, maybe, but all that comes out is a broken sob.

Happy must have been listening for her from the other room, because he is there in an instant. She turns away, reflexively hiding the tears on her face, but he stops her.

“Hey. It’s okay. It’s okay to cry.”

“I need to―I don’t have time―”

“I think we can clear fifteen minutes in your schedule for a breakdown, right?” Happy teases, the smallest of smiles on his face although he looks close to tears himself.

A memory strikes, and she chuckles through the sobs, then cries harder.

“What’s it?”

“That’s just the kind of thing he would have said.”

“Oh, Tony,” Happy smiles sadly.

“I just―I miss him so much, Happy. It’s―It’s all the small things―his shaver―the tinkering and the empty pizza boxes everywhere and the never-ending cups of coffee and the way he just keeps on talking, to his bots and to me and Morgan―and―” she runs out of breath.

“I know. I miss him too.”

“You know, the way he used to stick his tongue between his teeth when he was concentrating and not realising anyone was around? Morgan did the same recently while drawing, and I just―sometimes I just can’t―”

“You can do it, Pepper. If there’s anyone who can do it, it’s you. You are strong.”

Pepper laughs, but it sounds shrill and false in her ears.

“People say that all the time, you know? And the worst thing―you know what the worst thing is?”

Happy shakes his head.

“The worst thing is, it’s true. You know, early into the relationship I was thinking that I can’t live without him. I was so, so scared something would happen to him, so I tried to stop him from being Iron Man… And then we took a break, and he ended up half-dead in Siberia, and at that time I realised that yes, I can live without him. It just wasn’t a life I wanted to live. And now―thinking that I have to do this every day, it’s just―it’s like someone is sitting on my chest and strangling me, over and over again.”

She hears Happy swallow hard, then he shuffles closer and wraps his arms around her, pulling her close. One of the bear hugs that got her through the time when Tony was in Afghanistan and both of her parents died in the span of three months, that got Tony through his panic attacks, and Morgan through some of her nightmares.

She feels water drop onto her neck, and she knows Happy is crying too.

They do finish the clothes before nightfall, because Pepper has always been awfully good at ticking off to-do lists, even on the worst days. When they are done, they get a bottle of red wine from the cellar and empty it in Tony’s honour, sitting near the lake where Pepper and Tony once spent a whole night just after they bought the house getting eaten by mosquitos, when they decided to turn it from a temporary recovery getaway into a home for as long as time would grant them.

Morgan took her first steps here, had her first fall, cried buckets in Pepper’s arms while Tony put a band-aid on the scratch on her elbow, and Pepper remembers thinking how little children know of pain. A few steps below Pepper laid the arc reactor to water, holding the hand of the girl who now knew so, so much of it; and sometimes she doesn’t know if she wants to preserve the place forever or burn it all down.

They sit and drink and at some point Pepper closes her eyes, and through the buzz of alcohol she can almost imagine that Tony is in the garage, finishing up a project before joining them for the night.

She thinks of him with love, with tenderness, with unforgiving pain.

She wonders if it will ever get easier. She wonders if she even wants it to be.

They go to bed at two. Happy takes the guest room where Tony’s shaver is now lying at the bottom of a dust bin. Pepper lies wide awake, her window open, listening to the familiar sounds of life far away from the city.

She will fall asleep eventually, facing away from the empty side of the bed. She will wake up at six, a little hungover, force herself to start the day with yoga and a run. Will call Dress for Success to make sure they get to the house on time, will oversee the pick-up. Will have breakfast with Happy so he doesn’t have to worry about her passing out when he gets on his way. Will sit through an SI video conference until it’s time to pick up Morgan, maybe take her to the mall or to see a movie on the way back home from Rhodey’s. Will make her dinner, give her a bath, put her to bed on time, if possible without a tantrum. Will tackle her email inbox until a headache will force her to bed. Will make a plan for Monday, another Monday without Tony, before falling asleep. Will wake up and face that one too.

Rinse and repeat, one day at a time.

All my fics

All my Pepperony fics

#pepperony moments #mcd #(canonical)#pepper potts needs a hug #happy hogan gives her one #remembering tony #thanks to everyone who gives this a try despite the heavy topic!#i appreciate you

54 notes · View notes

leapyearkisses · 3 years ago

Note

For the director's cut: Could you do Nice Work If You Can Get It? (Eliseo/Padgett)

That fic... Changed me. I'll never forget it TBH.

Yes, I'd be happy to! This one was really fun to write, and it was the beginning of two OCs I am very fond of now (and who I am happy to know made an impression on quite a few people!).

(If anyone enjoys this director's cut thing and wants to see one for another of my stories, ask away. I had a lot of fun!)

Commentary in bold below the cut! NSFW, mess, deliberately sneezing on people, m/m

This story started from a prompt about one character hiring someone to get them sick. An intriguing idea!! But it was one I actually struggled with finding a groove for when I started out. I actually started a few different scenarios with different character dynamics before I figured this one out. I have a 2600-word WIP of a different version of this in my "unfinished" folder.

"All right... close your eyes." Eliseo swallowed and did so, blocking out his bedroom, the red-gold sunset light pouring in from the windows, and Padgett, who was straddling his hips. He could still hear, quite easily, the other man's labored breathing and feel the heat of his thighs... and his crotch. Eliseo was under no illusion that he was in an incredibly compromising position at the moment. He hadn't thought much about the.. particulars when he'd first decided to strike this deal. "Are we really doing this?" he asked, voice weak.

I can't really write fetish porn without including actual porn lol, so from the beginning it was sexy even without the snz. In this version, the POV character is Eliseo, who is the "naive" character in a way. I pretty much write pairs where one character has the fetish and their partner does not but is indulgent. The one with the fetish is usually embarrassed about it or somehow naively realizing they like this weird-ass thing. Padgett laughed, voice tumbled and edging on hoarse. "Hey now. Not getting cold feet are we, my lord?" His exhale ghosted over Eliseo's forehead and his tousled black hair touched Eliseo's cheek.

Padgett is the confident character, and he brought the humor to this scenario! Eliseo cleared his throat. "No..." He could imagine the other man's smug look. They'd known each other long enough now that the image rose unbidden to his mind's eye. Padgett's eyes always glittered like opals when he was scheming something. Padgett surprised him with a tender touch on the shoulder, and he almost opened his eyes again. "The safe word is 'pumpernickel,'" he said, managing not to chuckle. "We can stop whenever you want... Hhk-" He fought off a gasp. "Decide hh quickly, though." Eliseo shivered. "I'm okay. Let's do it." He didn't want to admit it, but Padgett's reassurance did put him at ease, even if this had been his idea. He relaxed and tried to lose himself in the late afternoon heat. "Yehh-s, my lord." Padgett leaned forward and took a shaky breath. It stuttered and caught on invisible hooks, sounding at once to be full of potential and then gone again, like a ghost at the window. Eliseo could feel his body tightening again with anticipation, especially when Padgett gasped and leaned back. "Hh-... hah--

"A ghost in the window" eehhh this is kind of overworked. I like to write descriptively even when it isn't necessary. "Huh-ktschht!" A warm rush of air burst in Eliseo's face, almost immediately followed by a watery spray over his forehead, closed eyes, and nose. His instant reaction was to curl back, or try to, and he had his hands braced on Padgett's chest before he could think about it.

I had never written anything quite this scandalous as it were. There hadn't been a lot of snzfic I had read where there was direct, purposeful contagion like this or quite so much mess description directly on the skin, the face even. So I was sweating while writing this lol. "Hey now," said Padgett, delayed by a sniffle. His tone was light. "Easy. You specified this in the contract, remember?" He rested his hands lightly on Eliseo's wrists. "How are you feeling about it?"

CONSENT IS THE SEXIEST THING. We get this instinctual edge of revulsion from Eliseo because he has not acknowledged to himself that he likes snz yet and also he has never allowed anyone to do this to him before because why would anyone do this? Eliseo found he was holding his breath, but- Well, that would defeat the purpose of this exercise. He cautiously let it go and then opened his eyes. Padgett was gazing down at him, looking neither smug nor concerned, just curious. "I- this was on instinct," Eliseo murmured. After a beat, he lowered his hands, and Padgett let him go easily. "Yes, I imagine so. It's natural." Padgett smiled then, and then his expression crinkled. "Wh- hh- want to do it again? Hkt-- hhh..." Eliseo forced himself to surrender again to his pillows. "Yes." Again, he closed his eyes. Padgett shifted forward on his lap and oh- but then he was sneezing one more. "Huh- hktsschit!" Again, the spray. This time it dusted over Eliseo's nose and mouth. He fought to keep from thinning his lips and... took a deeper breath. Padgett hadn't moved, was still fighting with his own lungs, reeling in another insistent sneeze like a stubborn trout. "Huh- hh... hh hh huh-" He made an annoyed sound. "Hah-- hah-krttschtts!" Eliseo felt droplets of saliva decorate his cheekbone. Padgett sniffled thickly.

I think artists often point out how funny it is that when they're drawing they mimic the face of the character. I do this with sneeze sounds (IF I'M ALONE). I tend to like softer sounds for my characters, so a lot of sibilance creeps in. "...Bless you," Eliseo murmured. He was feeling hot. Maybe it was Padgett on top of him. The man was running a fever. "You are... doing the job admirably." That earned him a laugh. Padgett shifted his weight to his heels, which did interesting things to his cock's relation to Eliseo's own. "Thanks, I guess? I never would have thought anyone would be hiring for this, much less you." "Circumstances are dire," Eliseo intoned without a hint of irony.

Eliseo is a card. I love him. Of the two of them he is much more my preferred "type." He is similar to my mage character Llewellyn but less fussy. "Mmhm." Padgett sniffled again. "You must really hate weddings. Couldn't you have just gone on a hunt or something this weekend instead?" Eliseo sighed. "No. My sister would do anything to ruin my plans if I tried to avoid the party any normal way. But luckily, she's terrified of germs. I think a miserable head cold will be the ticket." Like hell he wanted to sit through another of his sister's weddings. Every time it was some new, world-changing drama. He wasn't even sure whether the groom this time was noble born. No doubt the reception gossip would be scathing. What absolute drivel.

There's a little "my lord" up there before, but this is kind of where the setting is characterized - Eliseo is a noble and this is a time and place where nobility matters. However, it's also anachronistic, because germ theory is a thing. They're kind of in a pseudo Regency/Victorian world where I just write whatever feels like the most fun. "Lucky also that you have me around, hm?" Padgett's next chuckle turned into a bit of a cough. Eliseo patted his knee awkwardly. "I- well, yes. Very. But believe me when I say that I would not wish for you to be so stricken if I had the power to stop it."

People with shitty immune systems are my jam. Even if it's really unlikely, I love it. Sometimes especially if it's unlikely. Like mister high elf Llewellyn, or if they're a god or angel or something. Or in a world where if you had that bad of an immune system you probably would have died of diphtheria or pneumonia by now. "Of course, my lord." Padgett rubbed his nose. And though his breath hitched a few times in the following moments, he stayed where he was. Eliseo blinked. "Are we...?" Done? He didn't really think the exposure had been long enough. "I am ready." Padgett blushed a little. Blushed? "Sorry," he said. "I can kind of feel that, uh, the uh, next ones are going to be kind of... wet. I could blow my nose." His voice trailed off, wavering again. His nostrils twitched, and Eliseo did see within the promise of moisture. Perhaps it was the taboo of it, but Eliseo was alerted instantly to a sudden thickening of his cock. It pressed at his trousers with some gusto as Padgett sniffled again. Eliseo swallowed. "No. No, this is good. This will... help."

After consent, MESS is the sexiest thing. That's just how it goes. I don't make the rules. Padgett gave him a considering look, at least as well as he could between soft gasps and squinting against the itch in his nose. "If you're sure, my lord." "Just- call me Eli, like you used to," said Eliseo, stumbling over the words. He wasn't sure where they had come from, but now they were bare between them. Still, perhaps a bit of affection wasn't so odd compared to what they were already doing. Eliseo closed his eyes on Padgett's startled look.

I wasn't sure where this came from either. But suddenly they were in love and I was cool with it. Eli btw is pronounced like the name (Ee-lye) but Eliseo is pronounced Ell-ee-zay-oh in my mind. It's of Latin origin and means "God is my salvation" according to that authority Babynames.com lol. Padgett means "attendant" so that was chosen partially because he's Eliseo's employee but also because Padgett is just a SUPER English-sounding name. I really enjoy looking up name meanings and representing different traditions in my characters. I tried to give Eliseo's family members Latin names, too, although they're not mentioned here. "Eli," Padgett said, and he sounded like he'd just come home from a long war to find the hearth kept warm for him. "I will." He leaned forward again, bracing himself. "Now, I'm going to- to hih-- to snhhsneeze, hah-- haktschtsch! Hrh- Hnkgstschhiu! More spray this time, more wetness, and Eliseo gasped himself when he felt a thick drip against his chin. Padgett hadn't moved. When Eliseo tentatively looked up, he saw his friend caught in a limbo of urgency. His green eyes were shut, eyelashes fluttering. His nostrils, gently pink now, flared. A clear trail hung from one of them, quivering as Padgett panted. He looked wild and fever bright and teetering on a precipice. Eliseo ignored what it might mean that Padgett's desperate expression, his wet nose - even the mess - suddenly went to his cock. He was hard, looking up at a portrait of a sneeze.

Sometimes you just have to stop writing for a second and drink some cold water or something. Carefully, he placed a hand on Padgett's thigh. "It's okay," he said, words coming of their own accord. "I've got you." Padgett's fingers tightened fitfully in the sheet as he shifted his weight again. He was making soft, irritated noises. His nostrils flared and Eliseo saw another drip lying in wait on the cusp.

Fingers tightening fitfully in a sheet is a thing I love to describe. If you binge-read everything I've written, you will find that I write snz and sex in a very particular way over and over. Because that's what I like! And I'm super glad readers like it as well! But I can basically only find the motivation to write what I enjoy (when I write at all... .__.), which is why I only write m/m or nb characters and such. When the urge became too much, it was like watching a wave finally crash down. Padgett's breath caught; he tensed and leaned back. Eliseo hurriedly closed his eyes again, and none too soon. "Hhhhrektschuckh!" He felt the mess streak his face, fly to spatter his mouth and nose and chin. Padgett moaned and then gasped again, chest swelling with air.

SCANDALOUS "Hah- Huhrttschuh! Hshtt! Hah- hsshtt!" Again, he teetered, teasing the air with shivering gasps. Then, he abruptly folded with a crush of vowels and congestion. "Hggtschiucht!" A baptism, pondered Eliseo's brain as it detached from reality momentarily. Pinned as he was to the bed by Padgett's sex, he couldn't move when he felt himself coming just as abruptly as the sneeze. Somehow the slick wash had become a mounting sense of urgency in each of his muscles, racing from his fingertips and toes to his abdomen, where, quite unbidden, his cock had tugged all that energy into a gut-wrenching orgasm that sent the shockwaves back out with renewed vigor. Padgett whined, and Eliseo took him firmly by the shoulders and drew him in for a messy, off-putting, contagious, blindingly good kiss. "Wow," said Padgett, when they finally broke for air.

Wow, lol. I have a great imagination. I wish I could make myself write more often. "Don't ask me why," Eliseo muttered, but he refused to be made a fool of by embarrassment. "C- come here." He shifted to sit up further and put his hands on Padgett's hips. "I want-" He wanted. "This. Yes?" Before he could stop himself, he swept his tongue over Padgett's mouth, under his nose, to rest at the edge of a nostril. He tasted salt. It was not entirely pleasant, but whatever pilot was captaining his body right now didn't care. He could still feel his cock pulsing against his trousers.

Also the first time I wrote anything like this, but Eliseo was like go big or go home, so. Padgett moaned. "It feels... odd. But, my lord, you can do what you- I mean, Eli." He was breathless for different reasons now. Eliseo laved the tender skin above Padgett's lips, then licked up his septum. When Padgett shivered, Eliseo kissed him again. Slowly, he cleaned away the mess from Padgett's face. When he was finished, neither of them knew what to say. Eliseo was hard again.

Huahaha Eliseo can have an unrealistic refractory period. I don't really give a shit how accurate this stuff is when it would get in the way of the enjoyment. Not to the point where people are just going in without lube or something crazy like that, but being willing and able to go again is just sexy, so that's fine. Finally, Padgett laughed shyly. "I think you'll be catching your cold, Eli." Eliseo blushed and shrugged. "I should hope so. I am-" He bit his lip. "I'm not ready to stop. Will you stay the night? I'll look after you." Padgett kissed him, tenderly drawing them together. "I would like that, very much."

And then they DEFINITELY banged. I hadn't conceptualized their specific history together at this point, but Eliseo and Padgett were FWB while younger, so the "surprise" at meeting again like this in a sexy fashion is more like "Oh, are we doing this now, as adults with drastically different social standing?" and less "Hey, are you into me??"

I got more than one request to write the direct sequel to this, but I dunno. I usually prefer one character in the pair to be the one who is sneezing, and writing Eliseo sick isn't as fun. Partially because I'm much, MUCH more interested in the shy/embarrassed/"voyeur" dynamic, so someone who gets off on their own sneezes really does nothing for me. I do have a WIP of Eliseo sick that is a direct sequel to Carriage Shenanigans, but I have no idea if it will ever get finished.

Thanks so much for the request for this very fun exercise!

#lyk writes #snz #eliseo jorvald #padgett foxborough #elipadge #director's cut commentary exercise

14 notes · View notes

imissjoongsmullet · 5 years ago

Text

Something Better (1/2)

Pairing: Bang Chan x reader

Genre: fluff/angst (will lead to smut eventually because hi hello it’s me writing about Chan)

Summary: You and Chan have been best friends since before you can remember but now that you’re in college, things start to feel strange, especially with the way he acts when it comes to your boyfriend.

Read part 2

Warnings: part 1 of 2 (probably), cutesy friendship stuff, lots of stupid banter, bit of suggestive conversations, a good dash of angst, Changbin as your boyfriend (do you need a warning for that lol), oh and though this one is pretty clean, there will be smut in later chapters.

Word Count: 2k

Author’s Note: Ok so I’m going to try to keep this to 2 chapters but I can’t promise anything. Anyone who follows me knows I tend to get carried away it’s a thing... Also, yes, this is such a cliché trope but BOY DO I LOVE IT! Thanks again for the request. I had a great time writing this!

►

Five minutes to four. Almost there. The old man at the front of the auditorium had been droning on about the history of bleebidiblah wherever for the past two hours and you were very much ready for it all to end and for the weekend to begin. You heard a pencil drop beside you and turned to see your friend pick it back up and place it between his upper lip and nose.

“Looking great,” you whispered, fighting back a smile.

“I know,” he snickered, making the thing drop into his lap for the dozenth time that class.

Chan was kind of an idiot. But he was also kind of your best friend. You’d grown up in the same neighborhood and had been inseparable since kindergarten. He was the first person you’d went to when you’d found out Santa wasn’t real, the first person you’d ever sneaked out of the house to go to a party with and the first person you’d ever gotten blackout drunk with; not to mention he was the only one who knew about your irrational fear of oven toasters. He knew everything about you and you knew everything about him. You were a team, tied together so much so, that you’d even decided to follow each other to the same college.

“Hey,” he nudged your shoulder, “how about we go downtown tonight and celebrate the weekend? I heard it’s prolonged happy hour at GB’s.”

The twinkle in his eyes made you want to say yes; it was a very tempting offer. “Can’t,” you replied eventually, scrunching up your nose at him.

“Come on, why not?” said Chan, leaning in and shaking your thigh, “we can go to karaoke after and you can crash at my place. I bought so many Doritos and they’re not gonna eat themselves.”

You bit your lip. “I kind of promised Changbin I’d go over tonight.” You already knew what was coming.

“Again?” he exclaimed a bit too loudly, drawing the attention of some of the other students, “you stayed over like three times this week already.” He sagged in his chair, rolling his eyes at you.

“Don’t be a child,” you retorted shoving him lightly.

That put some of his smile back in place. “You know, I think this Changbin guy isn’t the one for you,” said Chan, pretending to look pensive, “he’s got shifty looking eyes… and his nose is too big.”

You couldn’t keep from chuckling. Dipping down in your chair out of sight of your teacher, you turned to your friend. “You’re so full of shit, what does that even mean?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “maybe he’s having evil, shifty, big-nosed plans and you don’t even know it.”

“Your nose is big too, you know?” you said, pinching his nose.

He slapped your hand away and pinched you back, which made you cry out so loud the teacher went silent, eyes in your direction. Your cheeks flushed hot but just as you were about to apologize to the entire auditorium, the bell rang, pushing everyone around you into motion.

“Oops,” said Chan, eyes full of mischief as he rose from his chair along with everyone else.

You packed your things and followed him, kicking at his heels pettily.

“Seriously though, all the staying over,” Chan went on once you were out in the packed hallway, “sure he isn’t tiring you out?” The wicked grin on his face told you exactly what he meant.

“Chan, I swear if you don’t shut up,” you started but he interrupted fast.

“I just mean, you’re a studious girl,” he explained, grabbing your shoulders and rubbing them, “you can’t have a shifty-eyed boy like him distract you from your super important studies with sexy times.”

“And you taking me out to GB’s is helping me with my studies how exactly?”

“At least I’m not trying to put my dick in you every single night.”

“Chan!” you yelled out, looking around frantically at all the other students within earshot of your conversation.

“Aww,” Chan chuckled, hugging you closer, putting his lips near your ear, “you’re so cute when you’re all flustered.”

You were extremely happy he was behind you and couldn’t see the look on your face because you were even redder than before, staring eyes-wide into space. For as close and you and Chan were, you couldn’t help but feel shy whenever he mentioned sexual stuff around you. Not that you weren’t a sexual person; you just didn’t really know how to act around him when it came to those things. It didn’t help that you felt him all over you now, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand right up.

“Listen,” you said, shrugging out of his grip and trying to compose yourself, “how about we hang out tomorrow night? I’m sure the drinks will be just as toxic and delicious then.”

He came up next to you. “Fine, but you’re buying,” he said, “you’ve been leaving me lonely far too much. I demand compensation.”

You smiled and shook your head. “Fine.”

[I’ll be there in 10]

You hurriedly typed as you left Changbin’s place. You were meeting Chan for coffee. You were supposed to work on an assignment together that afternoon but you felt more than a little distracted after the previous night hadn’t ended up as fun as you’d hoped. You didn’t even really remember how it had started but you and Changbin had gotten into an argument that had lasted for most of the night. It wasn’t anything heartbreaking; it was just frustrating that your relationship wasn’t going the way you’d imagined it. And now you’d have to face Chan and pretend everything was okay because you were far too prideful to give him the satisfaction of saying ‘I told you so’.

He was waiting at your typical spot in the back of the café, his notebook ready on the table. You were happily surprised to find him jotting things down as you walked up. When you sat down, however, you realized he’d just been doodling obscenities in the margins of his book.

“Good afternoon,” you said, closing his book and grabbing the coffee he’d ordered for you.

You felt his eyes on you as you sipped the burning hot drink. You were just waiting for it at this point.

“So,” he started, amusement dripping down his face, “how was last night?”

“Shut up,” you countered, opening up your own book and looking anywhere but at him.

You and Chan were used to working together. Chan always had problems focusing and you were always there to give him the kick in the ass he needed to get the work done. On the other hand, Chan was the one coming up with the most creative ideas for your projects so, despite your differences, you worked quite well off of each other.

For a while, things were fine: Chan was on his second coffee and the ideas flowed generously; you just had to write them down and turn them into usable content. Things were nice and light as they should be. You took a break and ordered waffles, enjoying them without any mention of Changbin; it was great. You talked about concerts you were excited to go to together in the coming months, showed each other movie trailers of stuff you really wanted to watch together and you laughed at the absolute dumbest things. You thought perhaps it was the caffeine that was making you both so silly.

Unfortunately, after that initial boost of energy, came the inevitable crash.

By the time Chan was picking at the ice at the bottom of his empty third coffee, things were started to shift. You were trying to finish up the assignment but it was clear Chan was starting to get burnt out. Gradually, conversation trickled away from the project at hand and into less productive territory.

“What is it you like about him?” he asked, staring zombie-like into his cup.

“Not now, Chan,” you sighed, eyes on your laptop screen. You felt his fingers at your side, poking lazily.

“No, come on,” he said, voice sleepy, “I wanna know.”

You stopped typing and took a deep breath.

“He’s—” you started, trying to think of something while your head replayed how you’d argued the night before.

Chan let out a chuckle. “Yeah, he sounds great.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you groaned, a little harsher than you’d meant it, “let’s just get this done.”

But Chan didn’t let up. Your inability to define your love for Changbin had apparently made him very eager to tease you and it was getting harder and harder to ignore him.

“I bet he sleeps with his socks on,” he said, sipping his empty drink loudly, “weirdo.”

“Chan please.”

“Tell me he doesn’t.”

“Chan.”

“He totally does, doesn’t he!”

“Chan I swear if you don’t shut up I’m gonna kick you where it really hurts!”

“Fine,” he said, still laughing, putting up his hands in defense, “jeez, I was just having fun.” Then he came closer and, entirely oblivious, wrapped his arms around you tight. “No more coffee for you, it makes you mean.” He gave your temple a quick kiss and, chuckling, got up from his seat.

“Gotta pee, this coffee is going right through me, be right back.”

It occurred to you, as you watched him walk off, how odd your relationship with Chan was. Or maybe Chan was just an odd person? Or maybe he was simply acting oddly recently? You tried to shrug off the confusing thoughts and instead opened up your phone. The last text from Changbin was right at the top. You clicked it and smiled, rereading the sweet message he’d sent you the day before. You should probably make up with him soon, you decided.

After another half hour of half-assed adjustments, you and Chan finally called it a day.

“If you could input your slides right after mine, I’ll do the touch ups and bring it all to class,” you said, staring at your laptop screen, “we should probably go over it together the day before though.”

Chan’s face was in his arms on the table, looking drowsy. “Yeah, sounds good,” he mumbled, “I’ll type them out by Monday, we’ve got most of the stuff down already, it shouldn’t be hard.”

“Good,” you nodded, finally letting yourself sit back and relax. You closed your eyes in a long yawn as you stretched out your arms. When you opened them again Chan was looking at you.

“Tired huh?” he said, his lips curling up into a knowing smirk.

You stared back at your friend blankly. “You know what? Yes, I am actually. I stayed up most of the night.”

His eyebrows rose up in surprise but he didn’t speak.

“And that’s all I’m gonna say on the matter so can we please wrap this up now?” you added, “I think I should go see Changbin later tonight cause— well, we just have some things to discuss.”

“Wait, hold up,” said Chan, straightening up beside you and, finally, all laughter was wiped from his face, “I thought we were going out tonight.”

The memory of your promise hit you, throwing a small dose of guilt over your head. “I’m sorry, Chan, really. I just got some things to do—”

“Some things to do?” he interrupted, now definitely irritated, “you’re gonna ditch your best friend for some mediocre sex?”

“Chan that’s not what this is,” you started but you knew you’d set him off and there was no going back.

“Whatever,” he snapped, “it’s fine I’ll call some people who actually wanna hang out—”

“Chan—” you tried, shocked at the rapidity with which his mood had switched.

“—instead of someone who’ll leave me for the first boy to give her the least bit of attention—”

“Hey!” you said, getting up from your seat, heating up from the sting of his words.

Chan got up as well, the look in his eyes pained. “I said it’s fine,” he repeated, placing some money on the table and walking out.

(part 2)

451 notes · View notes

atlafan · 5 years ago

Text

a/n: these have been in my inbox for a while, and I thought why not just get all of these into one big blurby bundle??? I think I hit the main things everyone wanted. Enjoy! There is smut in this fam! @dancinginblackandred @harryhiswatermelon

Lock the Door - Blurb Four - Harry and Y/N Play House

The semester was just about to end, and finals week was upon everyone. But that didn’t mean parties weren’t still a thing. Harry was hesitant to bring Y/N over to Matt’s, but she had practically begged him to bring her out.

“I need to de-stress, and his parties are fun.” She whines.

“I know, but...it’s a little awkward, don’t you think? Have you two even spoken so since you hooked up?”

“No.” She shrugs. “Doesn’t he know you and I are together?”

“I haven’t had a chance to say anything. I’ve been busy working on different projects.”

“Harry, please, bring me with you. I need to go out and have fun, and I’d rather have fun with you.” She pouts.

“God.” He leans in to kiss her. “You make it really hard to say no...”

It’s a chilly evening, so Y/N clings to Harry’s arm as they walk. The smells of weed and alcohol fill their nostrils as they walk into the apartment. Harry finds a place to put their coats, and the second he finds Y/N, Matt has already backed her up against a wall, clearly uncomfortable. Harry rolls his eyes and comes onto the scene. He yanks Matt back by the collar of his shirt.

“Yo, what the fuck, Harry?”

“She’s got a boyfriend, mate.”

“Oh really, who?” He crosses his arms.

“Me.” Harry takes a step closer, getting in his face.

“Harry, relax, I was just about to tell him.” Y/N says, hoping a fight isn’t about to break out.

“Whatever.” Matt rolls his eyes. “Her and loose cunt are worth it anyw-” Smack.

Y/N gasps as Matt hits the floor. Harry looks down at his knuckles and then to her. She grabs him and pulls him into the kitchen to get some ice. She moves people out of the way as she does so. She gets some ice from the freezer and finds a cloth to wrap it in.

“You didn’t have to do that.” She says, not looking up at him.

“Don’t even start, you heard what he said.”

“I did.” She looks up at him. “You should have let me punch him.” She winks, and he hooks an arm around her to hug her close.

“Harry, did you just punch Matt?” One of his other friends asks.

“Yeah, he was talking shit about my girlfriend, is that a problem?”

“Nope, just wanted to confirm it was you.” He shrugs. “Didn’t know if we needed to kick some random out.”

“Nah,it was me.”

Finals week was busy as fuck. This would be the last week Harry and Y/N would have until they’d both be going home for for the holidays. Sure, they’d be coming back two weeks later to be on campus for winter break, but still. Y/N just had projects or presentations, nothing she really needed to study for. But Harry was either in the computer lab working on a larger screen for his graphic design stuff, or down at the studio painting.

Every time she looked over at his empty bed she was sad. He’d come home super late and would be too tired to even crawl into bed with her. One night she decides to order a small pizza and bring it down to him. It was kind of creepy going into the studio so late.

“Harry?” She squeaks as she goes into the room she knows he paints in.

“Y/N?” He looks up and rubs his eyes. “Did you walk down her by yourself? It’s late.” He frowns.

“Had my keys in my hand the whole time.” She smiles. “I brought you some pizza.”

“Aww...” He takes it from her and kisses her cheek. “Thank you.”

“I feel like I haven’t seen you all week.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” He sighs and grabs a slice. “My graphic design stuff took longer than I thought so I’m frantically trying to get things done here. I know you wanted to spend time together before we’re both gone for two weeks.”

“It’s okay, I understand. Wanna show me what you’ve been working on?”

He nods and walks her around to the different drawings and paintings. He explains the choices he made for each one. She was in awe of him.

“You’re so talented, I can’t get over it.” She wraps her arms around his waist and nuzzles into his chest. “Miss you.” She mumbles.

“Fuck, and I still have so much to do...otherwise I’d come home now.”

“Any chance of you taking a break?” She looks up at him.

“What kind of break.” He smirks.

“Are there cameras in here?” She looks around.

“Not in the rooms no, just in the halls. Are you suggesting what I think you are?”

“Could be fun?” She smiles.

He grabs her by the hips and lifts her onto the table. She giggles while he hooks his fingers into her leggings.

“I’m very surprised by you.”

“Thought you knew by now that I’m not some goody goody.”

“I know, but this is like...really cool.” He kisses her as her hands work his belt and zipper.

Harry slides her leggings down and leaves them around her ankles. He runs his fingers over he slit and moves her panties to the side. She groans into the kiss as he pushes his fingers inside her.

“Still need to be quiet, I may be the only one in this room, but I’m not the only one in the building.”

“Okay.” She whispers.

“I don’t have any condoms with me, shit.”

“In my jacket.” You nod over to it.

Even though they both had been intimate a million times at this point, neither of them had been tested, so condoms were still a good idea. They both agreed to go to the doctor when you’re home.

“You thought of everything didn’t you?” He smirks as he rifles through her jacket pocket.

He rolls the condom on his hard cock and pulls her a little closer. her head rolls back the second his tip starts to push inside. Her legs wrap around his waist to get him even closer. She clings to him, nails digging into his back. The room was filled with the sounds of their heavy breathing and panting.

“Shit, I’m...I’m not gonna last very long...” He groans. “You feel too good.”

“It’s okay, just touch me.” She leans back on her elbows, and his hand immediately starts rubbing her clit, while his other clutches to her hip.

“Fuck, Y/N.” He grunts.

She loved making him feel this way. He also just knew exactly what to do with his hands. Her release was coming just as quick. She bites her bottom lip and put her forearm over her mouth to stifle her moans. He loses it when she does. They stay like that for a moment until they both catch their breaths. He pulls out and finds a garbage can for the condom. She hops of the table and pulls her leggings back up.

“I hope your phone’s charged.” He says to her.

“Why?”

“Because I still have work to do, and no way am I lettin’ yeh walk back by yourself. So sit and get comfy, okay?”

“Alright.” She shrugs, too fucked out to argue. She grabs a slice of pizza and sits as he gets back to painting.

As she watches him it dawns on her that she’s totally and completely in love with Harry. She almost chokes on her pizza just thinking about it. She couldn’t tell him, could she? Would it make things weird? What if everything went wrong?

“Y/N?” Harry turns around to look at her, leaning against the table.

“Yeah?”

“I, uh, I love you.”

“I love you too, Harry.”

“Cool.” He smiles and turns back around.

“Cool.”

Y/N was happy to be back on campus, especially since she had her entire apartment alone with Harry. Liv and Chris didn’t have a reason for being on campus. Y/N got an easy job working for admissions answering calls, emails, and sending out mail. Harry would usually get back from basketball practice when she’d be getting home from work. They’d cook together a lot, it was great.

“Hey...” He was looking around your shared room. “What if we pushed our beds together like Liv and Chris?” He turns to look at you.

“We can’t.”

“Why not?” He frowns.

“Because...well...I finally told my parents we were sharing a room like I said I would...they weren’t thrilled, but they understood with Liv and Chris. But...”

“You still haven’t told them we’re together?” He sits down next to her, clearly disappointed. “I told my mum...”

“I know, I’m sorry. I just have this fear that they’ll yank me out of here if they knew. They like you, I just think they wouldn’t understand. I mean, to them it’s like we’re playing house at a really young age.”

“So they don’t mind we’re sharing a room?”

“They’re annoyed, but they’re dealing with it. I’m sorry, Harry. I’ll tell them, I just can’t yet.”

“Well, they always call before they visit. Why not push ‘em together, and then we can separate ‘em when they come?”

“Oh, so you don’t like being pressed up against each other all night anymore?” She jokes.

“I love it, but it would be nice to have a bit more room to spread out.” He kisses her. “Don’t you think?”

“I suppose.” She kisses him.

“Are you able to come to my game tomorrow?”

“Mhm.” She smiles. “And I’m gonna drive out to your away game this weekend. I’ll be like your personal cheerleader.”

“You’re the best.” He squishes his nose to yours and gives you another kiss.

Harry had gotten Y/N a sweatshirt with his last name and jersey number on it for her to wear to his games. A lot of the guys did that with for their girlfriends. She was happy to wear it. She looked extremely cute sitting in the stands. She waved to him and blew him a kiss. He was a starting player, so he was very busy.

She had completely forgotten the dance team would also be there in their skimpy outfits. Harry wasn’t allowed to chat between quarters, coach’s rules, but that didn’t apply to the dance team girls. Y/N felt annoyed when she saw him laughing with a couple of them. He looks up at her and waves though, taking all jealousy away. He only had eyes for her and she knew that.

“Woo! Go Harry!” She would cheer and clap for him, especially when he made a basket.

The team won the game, it was very exciting. Y/N knew it was okay to go onto the court when she saw the other girlfriends go down to their boyfriends. She races down the bleachers and practically jumped into his arms. He spun her around and kissed her.

“Sorry.” He sets her down and lets her go. “M’all sweaty. Might shower quick.”

“Please, don’t ever apologize. You know I think you look hot like this.” She runs her hand up his tattooed arm.

“H, meet us downtown in an hour to celebrate.” One of the guys says and he nods.

“Feel like goin’ out?”

“Where to?”

“One of the bars.”

“But...we’re not twenty-one yet.”

“They’re cool with us during winter break usually. They’ll just stamp our hands. Then we’ll go back to Pete’s for a real party.” He grins.

“Sounds good to me.”

Harry looks around and sees not many people going into the locker room, and tugs you to walk in there with him.

“Harry.” She whispers. “Isn’t your coach still here?”

“You mean my female coach whose office is in the women’s locker room?” He cock’s an eyebrow at you. “Think we’re good. I need to shower and it’ll take too much time to go all the way back home.”

“I know you don’t think I’m getting naked in here.” She crosses her arms.

“Oh, so you’ll fuck me in the studio, but not in here?”

“Nope, sorry. It stinks in here. But...we’re gonna drive downtown right?”

“Yeah.”

“So...shower quick.” She winks and leaves the locker room.

Harry does so and meets her back in the main part of the gym. They walk out to his car and she immediately climbs into the back seat. He smirks and starts the car up so it can get warm. He joins her in the back.

“See.” She says straddling him. “Isn’t this better?”

“Mhm.” He kisses on her neck. “I love seein’ yeh wear this sweatshirt.”

“I love wearing it.” She rolls her hips down on his. She feels him growing hard against him. “You have no idea the torture of watching you play, and get all sweaty, and see your muscles and just everything about you out there.”

“I thought it was torturous watchin’ me paint?” He says against her neck as he tugs the sweatshirt off her.

“It is, it’s all torture. My biggest problem with you is that you’re too sexy, Harry. Everything you do is hot.”

“I could say the same for you.” He unhooks her bra and shoves his face into her chest and groans. “This is my favorite place in the world.” He mumbles, making her giggle. “Right between.” He kisses on one of her breasts. “These big.” He kisses on the other. “Tits.” He licks around one of her nipples and sucks it into his mouth. She rolls her hips on his again, grinding against his hard-on.

She reaches for the button on his jeans and the hem of his shirt. It was clear she wanted him naked. He rips his shirt off and tugs his jeans down. She gets hers off as well. He takes her gets her fixed on all fours. She thinks he’s about to stick it in, but she jolts when she feels his tongue.

“Just need to taste yeh first, that alright?”

“Mhm.”

His tongue works from her clit all the way up dangerously close to her other hole. His tongue enters her center while his thumb works her clit.

“Harry, please, fuck me.” She groans. “Need your dick, please.”

He pulls away from her lines his dick up with her and pushes in. They both sigh with relief. They had been using condoms less since they both came back clean.

“You feel so fuckin’ good.” He moans.

“So do you, so big.” She bites her bottom lip.

The windows in the car got foggy, and they could barely hear the music coming from the radio from how loud his skin was slapping against her. His balls were hitting against her clit just right.

“Oh my god, fuck, don’t stop.” She moans.

He moves faster and faster, and he feels her tighten around him. She lets out a moan of his name as she releases around him. He pulls out to come on her ass. She was panting and collapses onto her stomach. Harry grabs a towel from his gym bag to clean her up.

“Thanks.” She breathes.

He hums his response as she flips over. He pulls her panties and jeans up her legs for her and she smiles big at him.

“I love you.”She says.

“I love you too.”

They both finish getting dressed and drive down to the bar. Y/N liked Harry’s basketball friends, they were really nice. Some even had boyfriends. They all order some nachos and other junk food to split.

Y/N knew as soon as the semester started the little bubble they were in would burst, but for now all was good. Her head was leaning on the shoulder of the guy she was absolutely smitten with. Harry Styles was in a monogamous relationship for the first time in his life, and he couldn’t be happier.

#lock the door #lock the door blurb #harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic #harry styles smut fic #harry styles fluff fic #hope you enjoy!#feels good to post again #college!Harry

535 notes · View notes

cryingoverafictionalcharacter · 4 years ago

Text

Marry Me

Request: Hey I really love your writing. Can you make a story where Fred Weasley and the reader are married and their journey through the war and everything and Fred lives. :) @famdomhideout

A/N: thank you so much for the request! I hope you enjoy.

Warnings: Angst! Mentions of war, mentions of violence, injury to reader, injury to Fred, pretty much sad the whole time but lots of fluff at the end and in between. I didn’t proof read so there may be grammar mistakes.

Italics are flashbacks

Your lungs burned as you ran through the hallway, the sound of the death eaters footsteps getting louder as they got closer. You quickly turned a corner, pressing yourself against the wall and holding your breath, your eyes screwed shut as you attempted to make yourself invisible, only releasing the air from your lungs when you heard the death eaters run past you.

You opened your eyes. You were in your old potions class. You looked around the now destroyed room. Shattered jars, that once held herbs and potions were scattered across the floor. The projector screen at the front of the room had been torn in half. Textbooks had been ripped apart, yet in the back of the class, standing right next to you was your desk, The first letter of your name having been scratched into the wood surface, accompanied by an F and encased in a heart.

Fred.

You ran out of the classroom, and headed straight for the great hall, desperate to find the red headed man. You entered the large room, your eyes scanning the soot and dirt covered faces bodies until they landed on a head of long fiery hair.

“Molly!” You yelled, the woman’s head wiping around at the sound of your voice to find you.

“Oh, Y/n thank goodness!” She said relived, engulfing you in a hug.

“Where is he?” You asked, looking around the room, hoping to meet the eyes of the man you loved.

“We thought he was with you” A familiar voice said, causing you to turn and meet eyes with George, his twin who would have usually been glued to his side being nowhere in sight.

Panic began to set in as realization washed over you.

He was still out there.

“Five more minutes!” Fred groaned as you opened the blinds of your shared bedroom, his arm quickly covering his eyes as the light washed over him.

“Come on Fred, the shop opens in an hour” You giggled, sitting on the bed to put on a pair of socks, only to yelp in surprise as you felt a pair of arms wrap around your middle and quickly pull you back into the bed, your back now pressed to Fred’s chest.

“George can handle opening. I wasn’t to spend a few more minutes with my perfect person” Fred said, kissing a light kiss on your shoulder.

“Oh really, this is perfect?” You asked, motioning to your untamed bed head and mismatched socks.

“Yes. You’re perfect” Fred replied, a soft smile crossing his face as you blushed at the compliment. “If fact, that bed head is kind of turning me on.”

You let out a laugh, shaking your head as you finally gave in and closed the space between you and Fred, pressing your lips to his with a smile.

“I need to go find him” You said, already beginning to back up towards the entrance of the great hall.

“No, you can’t go-” Molly started.

“I’ll find him! I promise, I’ll be back soon” You called, turning and falling into a sprint as you went out in search for your husband.

“We needed this” you sighed, leaning your head to rest on Fred’s shoulder as you watched the stars.

“That’s an understatement” Fred said, but you could sense the tension in his voice.

The past few months had been hard, both emotionally and financially. The start of the war meant most people spent their time indoors, which in turn had caused the shop to suffer greatly.

You remembered the day Fred and George left Hogwarts to start it. It was the best day of their lives, and though it hurt to have to say goodbye to your boyfriend, you were happy that he was pursuing his dreams. Now, the shop was in danger of being shut down, along with most of the other stores in Diagon Alley, and having to see the constant fear in his eyes broke your heart. So, you proposed a weekend get away to forget for a few days. And here you were, sitting under the stars, enjoying each others company in silence, until.

“Marry me”

“What?” You asked, sitting up to look Fred in the eyes, unsure if you had heard him right.

“Marry me” He repeated, turning so he was now fully facing you, holding both of your hands in his. When you didn’t answer, he continued.

“I’ve been thinking, with everything that’s going on right now, who knows what's going to happen. The only thing I know is that I want to spend every second I may have left with you. Now, I know I don’t have a ring, and-”

“Yes!” You shouted, throwing your arms around him and sending you both back to the ground.

You had been looking for him for almost an hour now, ducking into classrooms and hiding around corners to avoid as many death eaters as you could. You had just walked out into the courtyard when you saw him. He was on his broom, knocking down death eaters left and right. He was laughing.

You couldn’t help but smile. Of course Fred would be laughing at a time like this. However, your smile quickly fell as you saw a curse fly by his head, and hit the wall next to him, causing it to start to collapse.

“Fred!” You screamed, but he was too far away. You quickly shouted a spell, causing some of the falling bricks to fly in the opposite direction, but didn’t notice the debris now falling towards you. Not until a sharp pain ran through your head, and the world went dark.

“Y/N, baby wake up its ok” Fred’s voice called, shaking you lightly. You jolted awake, a cold sweat covering your body as you took in your surroundings.

It had been going on for weeks now, the nightmares. Whether it was replaying the night the Burrow burned down, or when George got hurt, or when death eaters attacked the school. The memory would always be exactly how it happened, except they always ended with you watching Fred die, before dying yourself.

Fred gently rubbed circles into your back, helping you catch your breath and calm down. Your began to fill with tears, and despite you quickly wiping them away, Fred still noticed.

“What’s wrong love?” Fred asked, making you take in a shaky breath.

“So much has already happened. We’ve already lost so much. And it still isn’t over. I just want it to be over” You sobbed, leaning into Fred's chest as he wrapped his arms around you.

“It will all be over soon, I promise. Tomorrow we go to Hogwarts, and then it will be over” Fred said comfortingly.

“How do you know?” You asked, your tear filled eyes looking up to meet his.

“I just know”

You awoke to the sound of yelling, causing you to quickly sit up. You winced as pain flooded your senses, reaching up to your head and pulling your hand away to see blood. You blinked quickly, trying to clear your vision so you could see the scene before you.

The entire wall from before had collapsed, and as you scanned the wreckage, there was no red head to be found.

You quickly stood, your head spinning a bit at the action but you ignored it, quickly running to the rubble and falling to your knees as you began to dig through the rocks.

“No no no, Fred!” You shouted, trying to find any sign of movement, looking to your left to see a flash of red hair.

Fred.

You ran over to him, falling to your knees so you could better look him over. He was unconscious, but breathing, however most of his right leg was now covered by the rubble, and your heart sunk to your stomach.

“Y/N!” You heard from a ways away. It was George.

“Were here! Help us!” You shouted back, looking back to Fred. He was covered in dust and dirt, his leg was mangled and he had a cut above his left eye. But he was alive.

A week had past. A week since the battle of Hogwarts, and the end of the war, but Fred still hadn’t woken up. Madam Pomphrey was able to heal Fred’s leg a bit, but he had a severe concussion, and would need to spend some time at the hospital to heal.

You and George had spent a lot of time together in his hospital room, neither one of you wanting to leave his side, but after a few days, you promised George you would call as soon as Fred woke up, so he could go home and spend some time with his fiancé Angelina.

You were currently sitting beside Fred’s hospital bed, making small doodles on the cast that was now covering his right leg. The doctors were able to help a lot with the healing process, but the bone still needed time to fully heal.

You had just finished a very crude drawing of a hippogriff, when-

“Doing a self portrait are we?” Fred asked, grabbing your attention.

You jumped up from your chair, throwing the pen in your hand somewhere across the room before closing the space between you, and engulfing him in a hug.

“You absolute idiot! Don’t ever scare me like that again!” you sobbed, pulling back so you could hold Fred’s face in your hands.

“Glad to see you too” He chuckled, his voice a bit gravely from lack of use, but you didn’t notice, or care. Fred was ok, and that’s all that mattered.

“I was so worried” You choked, tears still running down your face, which Fred gently wiped away.

“Well, I couldn’t die without giving you a proper wedding now could I?” He teased, making you let out a small laugh.

“What happened here?” He asked after a moment, reaching his hand up to gently brush across the large bruise and stitches on the side of your forehead.

“You were literally crushed by a building, and you’re worried about me?” You asked ridiculously.

"Of course” he said simply, before smiling and pulling your face towards him to connect your lips to his.

You smiled into the kiss, wrapping your moving to sit next to him on the bed to allow you easier access, and for him to deepen the kiss further.

“You know” He said, interrupting the kiss “Scars are super hot”

“Shut up” You smiled, shoving him a bit.

“No seriously, those stitches are a major turn on, maybe we could- ow!” Fred started, but you interrupted him by poking his bad leg, reminding him that any funny business he was planning would have to wait.

“You’re such a pain” You giggled

“That’s no way to speak to your husband!” Fred said with mock offence.

“Well technically, you’re not my husband yet” You argued.

“Fine, second thing were doing when I get this cast off is officially getting married!”

“What’s the first thing?” You asked, causing a smirk to cross his face.

“First, I’m gonna take off your clothes and-”

“Fred!”

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

A/N: I made it a bit more angsty than I thought I would but I think it works with the situation. Also, yeah they aren’t ‘officially’ married, but they are to themselves so that’s what matters most lol. I hope you liked it!

Tag list:

@levylovegood

@imonlyherecauseimbored

@sebby-staan

#fred weasley #fred weasley fanfiction #fred fanfic #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley fic #fred weasley angst #fread weasley fluff

67 notes · View notes

remmyswritings · 4 years ago

Text

our secret pt. 4// regulus black x reader

ok so i’ll admit this one definitely has a bit less of regulus x reader dynamic but that’s only bc we see more regulus and sirius / reader and sirius, reader with her best friend Stephanie (surprise @firewhisky-kisses) and then one more towards the end that’s a surprise.... I really hope you all like this one :) <3

taglist: @summer-writes @willowbleedsonpaper @obsessedwithrandomthings @firewhisky-kisses @potterverseimagine @in-slytherin-we-trust @masterofthedarkness @imboredandneedalife @lila-lilakk @strawberriesonsummer @62442-am @nebulablakemurphy @kashishwrites @pcseidcnsvoid @mytreec @curious-curios @jenniweaslee @cherrycolakxsses @peeves-a-legend @booksmusicteaandanimals @heart-of-tempered-steel

part 1

part 2

part 3

“Love,” you looked up from the newspaper to see your husband standing in the kitchen doorway, “what are you still doing here? I thought you said you had to get into the office early.”

“Oh I do,” then you motioned toward the stairs behind him, “but you brother is currently busy hogging all of our hot water.”

Regulus came over and placed a long kiss on your head, “I’m sorry that he’s been staying here for so long darling.”

“Reg, you know that doesn’t bother me, what does is how long he takes in the shower.”

As if you manifested him with your words, Sirius came strutting into the kitchen, his hair still wet from the shower, “Good morning fire + whiskey. What are we discussing on this fine morning?”

You and Regulus both rolled your eyes at the nickname Sirius had given you. When you first heard it, it was when Sirius sat in the middle of your living room completely wasted… that was 4 months ago.

“We were wondering what exactly it is you do in the shower Sirius,” the glint in your eyes shining as brightly as ever, “we might have to start charging you for every shower you take.”

“Alright, I’m sorry,” Sirius ran his hand through his hair, “And thanks for letting me stay here, I really do appreciate it.”

You reminded Sirius, just as you did every morning, that you were fine with him taking over your guest room. You knew that him and Reg both deserved a life where they could actually spend time with another… Now if only you could find someone for Sirius.

After finally being able to take a shower you rushed around, hoping to get to work as soon as possible. When you hopped down the stairs, you found Regulus standing at the door with your bag in hand, “Don’t worry everything is already packed.”

“Have I mentioned how much I love you?” you gave him a chaste kiss on the lips.

“Hmm,” Regulus pulled you in for one more kiss, “I’m not sure, let me get my notebook where I keep track of how many times you tell me you love me.”

Regulus acted as if he were going to carry you back into the house but instead turned you around and set you down on your front porch, “I love you and I hope you have a nice day at work.”

“Do you think I’ll ever have what you two have Reg?” Regulus turned around to see Sirius leaning against the bannister with a look of longing in his eyes.

Regulus nodded his head and squeezed Sirius’ shoulder, “I think you will. Say, I think Y/N might know someone who would be a good fit for you, why don’t you ask her?”

“Are you sure?” Sirius turned to look his brother in the eyes, “When it comes to my wife, I believe in her 10000%.”

While Regulus and Sirius were talking you had apparated near one of the stops on the tube and rushed towards the entrance of the Ministry of Magic. You were grateful to have gotten a job at the Department of International Magical Cooperation when you and Regulus returned to London but you definitely did not like your boss who gave you hell for every little mistake you made. Thankfully you weren’t greeted by him when you walked into the office instead you found your good friend Stephanie there, holding a cup of your favorite caffeinated drink in her hand.

“To what do I owe this greeting today?” You smiled at Stephanie as you grabbed the drink out of her hand.

She smirked, “How about me getting our boss off your back for the rest of the week?”

“I swear Steph, you are the absolute best,” you took a sip of your drink, relishing in the comfort the warmth brought you.

The two of you walked down the hall and towards your desks knowing that the second you sat down you’d be bombarded by your male coworkers asking for you to send notices for them and whatnot. When lunch time rolled around, you and Steph stepped out of the Ministry and headed towards the cafe the two of you found on your first day at work.

“Alright Steph, you haven’t said a word about your date at all,” you looked over at your friend to see her making a face, “So was it really that bad?”

“Ugh,” her head fell into her hands as she groaned, “it was so bad that I don’t have the words to describe how bad it was.”

You thought back to the past couple months of watching Sirius also go on blind dates only for them to all crash and burn, “Do you have any plans this weekend?”

“No, I don’t,” she looked at you to see the twinkle in your eye that let her know you were scheming, “whyyy?”

“Just trust me,” you looked down at your watch, “and would you look at that we have to head back to the office.”

You were so tired when you made it home that you almost forgot about your plan. Well, you almost did until Regulus brought up the question that Sirius had asked him after you had left.

“Would it be crazy if I set up a friend of mine with your brother?” your fingers danced over Regulus’ shoulder and down his arm to meet his hand.

He placed a couple light kisses up and down your neck, “No, I don’t think so. I take it you are talking about Stephanie?”

You hummed in agreement as Regulus slowly trailed up to your jaw, “You should mention her to Sirius tomorrow at breakfast.”

“Ok,” you shifted closer so that instead of resting on the pillows, you used your husband’s chest for support and soon fell asleep.

When you woke up the next morning you found yourself face-to-face with Regulus’ sleeping form. It was rare for you to wake up before him, so you took advantage of the sight in front of you. Your fingers slowly ran up and down his face, trailing down his nose before drawing the outline of his lips. Surprisingly, Regulus hadn’t woken up to your touch, so you brought your lips to his forehead and then his eyelids and then his nose, which is when you finally felt him start to stir.

“Hmm, I could get used to waking up like this,” he muttered, his voice still scratchy from having just woken up.

You started to pepper his jawline with kisses, making sure to avoid his lips knowing that the action would bother him, “Are you sure you want to be woken up like this?”

“Can you please kiss me already?” Regulus whined.

“Mhmm,” you leaned down very slowly, your lips practically touching when you suddenly jumped out of bed, “how about later?”

Regulus whined at the loss of your touch and could only watch as you grabbed your outfit for the day and jumped into the shower. When the hum of the water filled the air he begrudgingly headed towards the kitchen where he found Sirius standing at the counter with a cup of coffee in his hands.

“Good morning, where’s the fire to your whiskey?” Regulus sat down across from his brother, who was making him a cup.

He motioned to the upstairs portion of the house, “She’s currently enjoying our hot water since you aren’t getting wet.”

“That’s nice,” Sirius muttered.

Regulus faced his brother and looked at him inquisitively, “Are you okay Sirius?”

Sirius sighed and rubbed his face with his hands, “I’m not sure… I don’t know. That French girl that I went on a date with a couple weeks ago stopped by yesterday to talk and she said she doesn’t quite understand why I acted as if I wanted an actual relationship with her, but that is what I wanted!”

“Hey,” Regulus spoke softly, “You’ll find that person.”

“And how can you be so sure about that Reg? Whenever I find someone who seems interested, turns out all they want is a good fuck and that may have been what I wanted a couple years ago but not anymore,” Sirius groaned in frustration.

“Well,” Regulus hesitated, “Y/N told me last night that she’s been thinking about setting you up with a friend of hers at the office. She thinks you’ll be good for one another.”

When Regulus finished the sentence, you appeared at the doorway of the kitchen, “I heard my name. Are you trying to summon me darling?”

“Love,” Regulus pulled you into his arms, “I was just mentioning your friend to Sirius.”

“Oh perfect!” You turned to face Sirius, noting how disheartened he looked, “Sirius, I really do think she’ll be perfect for you.”

Sirius nodded his head, “What is she like?”

“Well her name is Stephanie, she was a Puff back at Hogwarts. She’s a super loyal person, honest, and very strong and quite frankly she has this adorableness to her but she isn’t willing to get dirty if need be,” you watched as Sirius' eyes lit up at her description, “and she wants to be with someone who will accept her for who she is completely.”

“Do you think she’d like me?” Sirius’ voice sounded so vulnerable.

You nodded, “I think she’d love you. Why don’t you come up with some date ideas with Reg and I’ll see if she’s free this weekend.”

Looking at the time, you rushed over and gave Sirius a big hug before you and Regulus met at the front door where you gave him a long kiss on the lips and the two of you said your goodbyes and I love yous.

Sirius soon came up with just the idea for his date and after begging slightly to his younger brother he set up your backyard with a multitude of fairy lights. After sending a letter to you before lunch time, you convinced Stephanie to stop by your place for dinner and made sure to let her know that she wouldn’t be having dinner with you and Regulus.

When you arrived home to see what Sirius had created, you knew your suspicions were right and confidently left Sirius alone as you took Regulus out to muggle London with you. As you and your husband went to the movie theater, Stephanie arrived at your house all dressed up.

She knocked on the door only to her surprise for Sirius Black to open the door for her, “Hello.”

“Hi Stephanie, I’m Sirius,” he opened the door further, “Why don’t you come on in?”

She walked into the house to see that the fairy lights had been extended to the main hallway, filling the room with a golden shimmer. When she made it to the kitchen, she saw that Sirius was still preparing dinner, “I hope you don’t mind waiting a bit.”

“No not at all. What are you making?” She leaned in closer, the smell consuming her every thought as she ended up with her chest pressing against Sirius’ back.

He turned to see her standing so close to him but in a way that was different from how his previous dates did, “oh, it’s this pasta recipe that Y/N mentioned you really liked. I hope I do it justice to be honest with you.”

“The fact that you are even making me dinner right now, is absolutely amazing,” she took a deep breath in, “and it smells really good.”

A couple minutes later, Sirius levitated some plates over and served dinner for the both of them, but instead of heading towards the dining table he led Stephanie to the backyard where he had set up a table for two.

“I hope you don’t mind being outside,” Sirius blushes slightly as Stephanie stood at the doorway in shock at the sight in front of her, “I just knew that the stars would look extra beautiful tonight and I wanted to share that with you.”

Stephanie finally turned to Sirius, “This is the best thing anyone has done for me before.”

The two of them sat down and conversed for hours on end. Even after they had finished their food, and Y/N and Regulus had returned from their night out, and Sirius brought out a blanket for the two of them to stargaze for a while. They were so caught up in one another they hadn’t even realized that they’d fallen asleep in one another’s arms, only to wake up the next morning with the sun shining in their faces.

“I’m so sorry,” Sirius looked down bashfully, “I didn’t mean to keep you here with me all night.”

Stephanie reached out and cupped Sirius’ face, “Sirius, I had the most amazing time last night and not once did I think about wanting to leave.”

“Could- could we do this again sometime?” Sirius looked at Stephanie with a face that reminded her of puppy dog eyes.

She nodded, “I’d love to… that is if you’d like to.”

“Ya, ya,” he nodded his head eagerly, “I’d love to as well.”

#remmys writings #regulus black x reader #regulus black imagine #regulus black #regulus black x y/n #regulus x reader #sirius black #sirius black x steph #sirius black x boo 💛

157 notes · View notes

samwrights · 5 years ago

Text

Pining After You [hc]

Just some Haikyuu!! head cannons about my favorites pining after the object of their affection—you. I’m gonna limit myself to only one Seijoh 3rd year >_> instead, I’m just gonna make Makki’s super long bc love.

I might turn these into one shots. I’m planning a special series to be released for the entire month of May—let me know what you guys think!

Hanamaki;

Ya know, with my last head cannon, I had such a hard time writing for Makki and now that’s all I wanna do.

Cause THIS BOI is too easy-going, too cool, to ever be blunt and up front about his feelings for you. He can’t ruin his image by stumbling over a confession.

Definitely has been in love with you since your guys’ first year—all thanks to your laugh.

Every time he hears you, even if said laugh is occasionally broken with a gentle, genuine snort, Makki feels every single electrical pulse being sent into his nerve endings.

It was a huge part of the reason that he had started owning the class clown trope, cracking jokes with his peers and even the teachers even though that definitely was not kosher. But his almost dry, sarcastic sense of humor always seemed to be rewarded with the angelic gift that was your laughter.

But he doesn’t know how to talk to you. At all.

He tries really hard not to stare at you, or at least tries not to make it super obvious and fails considering you sit on the opposite ends of the classroom

Makki always has lunch in Mattun’s classroom just so he can freely talk about something you did in class that made him laugh or smile, even if it was something stupid like you dropped your pencil or you raised your hand to answer a question.

In your third year, Mattsun is tIRED of it all.

“Just go fucking confess your feelings, I swear to gOD, or I’ll tell her.”

“Dude no, I can’t she’s way outta my league.”

Did I mention Mattsun is over it? So over it that one day, instead of waiting for his best friend to come to his classroom for lunch, he decides to pay yours a visit.

Makki’s freaking out because the fCK was Mattsun walking over to your desk?!

“She’s coming to our tournament this weekend, so bring your A game.” Was all he said before leaving the poor wing spiker to drown in the blood rising up his neck.

You weren’t friends with anyone on the VBC, but you did actually end up at the tournament with a few friends.

Exhilarating was the only way to describe it, up until Seijoh’s loss to Karasuno.

After the team thanked the spectators for watching, you noticed all the third years crying, signifying the end of their careers.

“Thank you for inviting me to watch, Matsukawa. It was really fun.” You said politely, approaching them afterwards.

Mattsun shoves his best friend towards you, “actually, he wanted to invite you. He just didn’t know how.”

Makki.exe has stopped working. He’s too busy spluttering because he literally has no idea what to say to you now. Cool boy? Not even close.

“I’ve actually wanted to come to one of your matches for awhile. I just thought it was weird because I’m not friends with any of you.”

Oh. O H.

“Y-you could’ve asked me...”

“I was hoping you’d ask me. Why do you think I always laugh at your jokes, Hanamaki?”

“Wait, does that mean you don’t think I’m actually funny?” 💀💀💀 Rip.

“I do. You’re funny, talented, handsome, and I’ve liked you since first year.”

Makki.exe has stopped working.

Akaashi;

Akaashi has studied everything he could about you without ever having actually interacted with you.

He knew you were in Bokuto’s class, he knew your name, and that the two of you interacted often, but never outside of the classroom.

He knew that you always carried your school bag over your left shoulder, and tucked your hair behind your right ear when you felt it was in your face.

Your energy somehow matched his best friend’s while simultaneously calming the owl captain like a gentle wave. You reminded Akaashi of the sun rising over the ocean.

Bokuto, oblivious to nearly everything, never realized that his best friend’s calculations went beyond analyzing the ace. One small section of his brain was dedicated to your ass.

Really, there wasn’t anything extraordinary about you, or at least that’s how you felt about yourself. But every time Akaashi swung by Bokuto’s class to walk with him to practice, his eyes were immediately drawn to you for .067 seconds before he’d look away, so as not to make you feel uncomfortable.

Once in a while, Bokuto would let small details about you slip, like how you were in the art club and that you had a showcase coming up displaying the portfolio you had built over the last three years.

He definitely didn’t ditch practice to be there for your showcase.

Showing up to the venue where the showcase was being held, he suddenly felt very under dressed seeing other third years and teachers adorning formal attire while he showed up in black jeans and a grey button up.

Wandering around the venue, Akaashi looked for you or your artwork, his breath held in his lungs when he saw the arsenal of works displayed on large black boards with your name written elegantly at the very top. Made with various mediums, he was stunned by different paintings and drawings of surreal, exquisite landscapes that could not possibly exist.

Then again, he didn’t think you were real either.

One particular painting invoked a strange emotion in him—a large, desecrated shipwreck amongst of field of bright flowers with the sun setting in the back. Titled “Crack The Sky”, the piece emanated joy and grief in one. It was almost as stunning as you were.

“This one’s my favorite.” You announced sheepishly from beside him and he realized he had never heard your voice before. The setter turned to look at you, drinking in your appearance up close for the first time. “You’re Bokuto’s friend, aren’t you? Akaashi?”

He was kinda hurt to hear you mention Bokuto for reasons unknown to himself jealous much?

“Yeah. It’s nice to meet you.” He bows slightly, remember that no matter how infatuated he was with you, you were still his senpai.

He began walking with you as you explained the creation process of your different pieces. Not that he was actually paying attention, though he’d never admit that. He just liked hearing you talk and he would definitely never admit that.

You excuse yourself as your phone rings, though you don’t walk away, allowing him to hear your end of the conversation. “Yep, he’s here. I owe you dinner. You wanna talk to him?” Akaashi cocks a brow in your direction, staring at your cellphone that you’ve now held over to him. Bokuto’s name flashed on the screen.

“Uh, hi?” The setter asked, confused.

“I made a bet with her that you would ditch practice to go to her showcase because yOu LoVe HeR.”

Aight, imma head out.

Before he could run away out of embarrassment, you grabbed his wrist though you were still on the phone with Bokuto.

“Would you like to join us for dinner? Seems kinda unfair for him to get dinner when you’re the one who made the effort to be here.”

Akaashi graciously accepts to which you respond by telling Bokuto where you would meet him for the evening.

“So you love me, huh?” 💀💀💀 If Akaashi could magically disappear, he would. Or even better, if his blush ran hot enough to melt the skin off his face, that’d be great too.

But you never let go of his wrist until now, opting to wrap an arm around his instead.

“I like you too. Why do you think Bokuto and I made a bet about you coming here, silly?”

Kenma;

Poor Kenma. The worst part of his whole situation was actually being friends with you, knowing he would never get to have you.

Why would you want him, anyway? You were more fit for someone like Kuroo—someone who was as boisterous and confident as you were. He anticipated the day you two announced your relationship and left him behind in your little trio.

Not even Kuroo knew that he was in love with you and maybe that was a mistake on his part but he could never tell his best friend that you were his entire world. It was too embarrassing for him.

It took entirely too much energy to even sort through his feelings alone, how much more exhausting would it be for him to run through every single thing he felt about you to someone else?

Like the way you would nearly skip out your home every morning when the boys came to fetch you to walk to school together.

Or the way you unabashedly asked almost too personal of questions, or questions that were just soooo left field of you were friends with a person. “Hey Kuroo, how many brushes do you think you would break if you finally decided to brush your hair after 17 years?” Was one of Kenma’s favorites.

The way you sing along to every song that plays on your iPod or even the radio, even if you didn’t know the song, you would try to sing along anyway.

Some days, Kenma would look out the window and see you practicing some form of a dance routine in your backyard. He would watch you for hours until you went inside, suddenly feeling shame for being so creepy.

Nearly every night, Kenma just wished he could turn his feelings off while simultaneously wishing you were next to him so he could hold you while he slept.

Your smile was his favorite. Seeing you smile every morning as the three of you walked to school together was what got him through his day. “Hey, hey are you guys coming to my dance competition tomorrow?” You asked in your typical, jovial lilt.

“Of course.” Was all he was able to reply, while Kuroo enthusiastically responded about their attendance.

“Great! I can’t wait to see you guys in the crowd!”

The “C” word, was almost enough to make Kenna regret his decision to come. Even more so when he was surrounded by the masses, all waiting to watch their respective dance teams. But it was for you, and he would do anything for you.

Kuroo was right beside him, a small bouquet of roses in his hand to give to you after you competed. The blood red flowers made Kenna glower and glare in secret, or as secretive as he could be. “I got these for you.” The captain says quietly, handing them over to his best friend.

“Sorry, Kuroo, I can’t say I return your feelings—“

“For you to give to her, you idiot.” 🤡🤡🤡 “I’m not that dumb, Kenma.” The setter really wanted to argue and say that he was, but your school’s dance team was up to perform so he opted to stay quiet.

Have I mentioned that Kenma loves watching you dance? There was a reason he would watch you practice in your backyard. You moved with elegance and grace that was foreign and so opposite to his own demeanor, it was no wonder he was always so captivated by you.

After you compete, there’s a bit of downtime between the other competitors and the awards ceremony, giving you the chance to hang out with your besties.

“These are for you.” The second year says quietly, handing you the bouquet with a blush dusting over his cheeks. The red rivaled that of the roses.

“Aw, thank you, Kenma!” You squeaked out before giving him a kiss on the cheek, his skin burning even hotter. Kuroo’s just over there laughing but ya know.

During the awards ceremony, you’re sitting in a circle with your team not too far from your friends while they announced that Nekoma had taken first. Everyone in the dance troupe began screaming and hugging each other, while you ran straight to your boys.

While still jumping, you were hugging Kuroo so tight, arms squeezing around his neck while sharing the joy. Which made Kenma just a little bit jealous.

Just a little.

Until you’ve settled down from your jumping before wrapping your arms his neck as well. But rather than going for a hug—

Wait what is hAPOENING

You brought your lips to his briefly before burying your face into his neck out of embarrassment because wHY you had thought that was a good idea was beyond you.

Deciding you couldn’t just keep holding onto him, because he was probably embarrassed too, you stepped away, ready to run back to your team. But Kenma didn’t let go, his arms seated securely at your hips as he stared at you.

“I-I’m sorry, I-I don’t know w-w—“

“I love you.”

Wanna see a specific character? Or a different head cannon? Want to see a whole story?

Send in requests!

602 notes · View notes