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junghelioseok · 4 years ago

Text

heart-on.

↳ your one-night stand definitely isn’t relationship material, but maybe—just maybe—your manager’s son is.

◇ hoseok x reader ◇ smut | strangers to lovers!au ◇ 10.1k [1/1]

❛❛ my boss is always telling me how perfect her son would be for me and she promises he’s coming to the next holiday party and don’t worry he’s heard all about me too and ALSO there’s this dude i slept with once a couple of months ago and sometimes he still sends me dick pics when i ask him to at 3 in the morning cause seriously dude’s got a good dick ❜❜

notes: welcome to the first installment of the serendipity series! we’re starting with hoseok, because, well, have you met me? 🤣 be warned, however, that this isn’t anywhere near as edited as i’d like so i’ll probably give it another read/edit tomorrow but for now!!! here it is!!!

⇢ series masterlist. | inspired by this post.

warnings: dirty talk bc hoseok’s got a bit of a mouth on him, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, kids!), sexting. dick pics, obvi. brief mention of a dead pet goldfish :(

You’re refilling your mug when you hear it. Voices filter out from the kitchen, floating past the coffee station where you’re pouring yourself another drink and hanging in the open air of the hallway that leads back to the rest of the office. They’re familiar voices, too—voices that belong to the resident gossips of your workplace. Lottie’s pitchy, nasal tone melds with Hyejin’s higher one, their conversation interrupted every so often by an exaggerated exclamation or gasp from Sandra, the third and final member of their trio.

“Haven’t you heard? Carolyn’s divorce was finalized over the weekend, the poor thing.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine how she’s feeling. I mean, getting back into dating at her age? Goodness!”

“And now she’ll be all alone at the holiday party, too. How sad is that?”

“It’s tragic. Poor thing.”

Rolling your eyes, you grab a packet of sugar and tear it open, upending it over your mug and watching the crystalline granules fall into the dark liquid within. You know for a fact that Sandra and her husband can’t even stand to be in the same room for an extended period of time, considering how they’d spent most of last year’s holiday party talking to entirely different groups of people. You’d sat two tables away from them during dinner, and they hadn’t even made eye contact once. And as for Lottie and Hyejin, well, you’re certain that their relationships aren’t much better. All three of them are miserable people as far as you’re concerned, and you make a mental note to check in on Carolyn—a sweet woman in her thirties who always keeps chocolate bars in her purse—on your way back to your desk.

“Sheesh. Vultures, the lot of them. Don’t you think?”

You whirl at the sound of your manager’s voice. Kyunghee Jung is a dark-haired woman in her late fifties, and she laughs when she sees your startled expression, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Easy! You’ll spill your coffee if you’re not careful.”

“I’ll probably have a heart attack first,” you reply, pressing a hand to your chest. “What was your job before this? Some kind of intelligence operative? Are you a super spy?”

Kyunghee laughs again and joins you at the counter. “Nothing even remotely as exciting as that,” she answers, plopping her mug down beside yours. It’s decorated with what looks like every color of the rainbow, a massive smiling sunflower taking up the majority of the surface, and the only remnant of the ceramic’s original color is on the very edge of the handle where there’s a lopsided little patch of white. The piece is clearly handmade, and a stark contrast to the simple mint green cup that houses your coffee. Looking at it, it’s impossible not to smile.

“I love that,” you remark, inclining your head at her mug. “Was it a present from one of your kids?”

“Hoseok,” she confirms, running a fingertip along the imperfect handle fondly. “I’ve told you about him before—he’s right around your age.”

You chuckle. “Right, I remember. That’s why he’s the perfect match for me, right?”

“Come now, there’s more to it than that,” Kyunghee defends, waving a hand. “But yes, to answer your question. He gave it to me as a birthday present when he was eight.”

“Well, you never told me he was an artist,” you tease. “Does he have an Etsy? Can I buy one of these off him? Does he do custom orders, maybe?”

Normally, your manager is more than happy to play along with your jokes, but today Kyunghee fixes you with an uncharacteristically serious look. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?” she asks. “He’s coming to the holiday party, after all. I figured you could finally meet.”

You blink. Kyunghee has been making offhand remarks about how well you would get on with her son, Hoseok, for over a year now, but you’ve never even come close to broaching the topic of meeting him. You don’t even know anything about the man beyond the fact that his name is Hoseok and that he works somewhere downtown. He also favors tall socks and yellow suspenders if the framed photograph on Kyunghee’s desk is any indication—or at least, he certainly did when he was still in diapers. Whether he still does, is anyone’s guess.

“Wow, I had no idea he was even interested in coming,” you manage when you’ve recovered from your surprise. “Did you bribe him?”

If Kyunghee notices that your voice is a few pitches higher than usual, she doesn’t remark on it. “Oh, you know. I just told him that this would be his last chance to score free booze on the company’s dime.” She laughs. “Three more months and it’s going to be all beaches and sunshine for me. I might even become a cruise person in my retirement.”

You gasp and slap a hand to your heart. “Kyunghee! Think of the environmental impact!”

“I said I might!” she retorts immediately. “Sheesh. Even in my old age, it’s hard to conveniently forget how shitty and unsustainable those damn boats are.”

You pick up your mug and raise it in a salute. “Well, the oceans thank you.”

“My husband doesn’t,” she answers with a sigh. “He’s been dying to book one of those trips that stop all along the Mediterrannean coastline, and I can’t exactly blame him.”

“That is tempting,” you admit. “You’ll have to send photos, if you do end up going.”

“You’ll be sick of me and my photos before the first day is even up,” she promises. Then she pauses, her eyes darting toward the kitchen where silence has fallen in the last few minutes. “Speaking of being sick—you think the vultures are still hovering around in there? I haven’t had lunch yet, and I need the microwave.”

Obligingly, you edge a little closer to the kitchen doorway and poke your head around the frame, scanning for Lottie and her sidekicks. “Coast is clear. Enjoy your lunch, Kyunghee.”

She nods and raises her mug at you, returning your salute. “I always do.”

///

As soon as the work day ends, you fall into your usual routine. Your commute home is easily walkable on nicer days, and though the winter weather is brisker than you’d like, you decide to walk for the sake of stopping at the convenience store on the corner of the block.

Once you arrive back at your apartment, you change into your comfiest sweats and a loose tee. You turn on some music while you throw together some dinner, and settle onto the couch half an hour later with a full plate and Netflix. Television is a welcome distraction from the events of the workday, and you manage to get through three full episodes of your current show before your pesky brain decides to revisit the events of today, replaying the conversations that you’d both had and overheard.

There’s no denying that you’ve been single for quite some time now, and for the most part, it’s been by choice. Ever since graduating from university, you’ve chosen to focus more on your career, and it’s paid off both in terms of the important position you hold in your company and your above average salary. And yet, you can’t help but think back to the gossip you’d overheard earlier—about the supposed tragedy of being single and attending the upcoming holiday party alone. Your mind wanders to Kyunghee’s son, Hoseok, and how he’ll be in attendance this year. You wonder what he’s like, and whether he really is perfect for you, as Kyunghee seems to be so fond of mentioning.

And then your mind goes to Jay.

You met Jay two months ago, on a well-deserved night out after a hellish workweek. The bar was crowded, and the music coming from the neon dancefloor in the back was just loud enough to drown out your inhibitions. That, combined with the alcohol swimming through your system, made you bold. You sashayed your way across the dancefloor, dodging inebriated bodies and swaying limbs as you fixed your attention on the head of pale lavender hair and deliciously broad shoulders that awaits you just behind the bar counter. The bartender is nothing short of gorgeous, and you’ve thrown all caution to the wind. Sure, several other women are eyeing him like he’s their next meal—several men are, too—but you need another drink. And while he prepares it, you plan to flirt.

A lot.

The bar counter is sticky with spilled liquor, but you don’t pay that any mind as you lean across it, the wood digging into the narrow strip of exposed skin left by your cropped top. “Hi!” you call, and the bartender looks up from where he’s just finished pouring a round of shots for a group of raucous young men.

“Hi yourself,” he says, his pillowy lips stretching into an easy smile. “What can I get you?”

You pretend not to notice the way his eyes flicker down to the dip of your cleavage and instead put on the sultriest smile you are capable of mustering. “Vodka soda,” you tell him, injecting a bit of purr into your voice. “A bit of lemon too, if you have it.”

“Trust me, I have it,” he assures, his smile growing as he reaches for a clean glass and a clear bottle. “Name’s Jin, by the way. I’m here all night, if you need anything e—”

A loud clatter and the sound of breaking glass interrupts the rest of his sentence, and all eyes at the bar go to the source of the disturbance. Conversations stutter to a halt, and even the thumping bass of the music seems to dull. Jin darts to the other end of the bar, where you can see that one of several barstools has fallen to the ground. There’s a man on the ground as well, surrounded by shattered glass and spilled dark liquor, and your eyes widen when you realize that you know him.

And arguably, a little too well.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. People are starting to lose interest in the spectacle, turning back to their own conversations and continuing on as if nothing had happened at all. The man is beginning to clamber to his feet, and a few people lend a helping hand as Jin begins barking out orders for everyone to step back so he can sweep up the broken glass. You seize upon the opportunity, latching on to the nearest arm and pulling them close so you can hide behind them. Vaguely, you’re aware of them sputtering in surprise, but you only have eyes for the man who had fallen off his stool, watching him carefully as he brushes himself off and tries to play it cool despite the sizable patch of whiskey soaking his white shirt.

“Hey, uh…” Your human shield is speaking. “Are you okay? You’re squeezing me pretty tight.”

That draws you out of your daze. Abashed, you loosen your grip on his arm and look up into his face, your throat going dry when you realize how handsome he is. His black hair is parted over his forehead, a stray strand falling into warm brown eyes set above a straight nose and an inviting mouth. There’s a freckle above his top lip, just shy of the center, and your inebriated brain wonders just what it would be like to kiss it.

“I, um—” You clear your throat and try again. “Sorry about that. I just didn’t want him to see me.”

Your newfound companion raises an eyebrow and glances over his shoulder at the drunk man, who is now being ushered out of the bar by his buddies. “You know that guy?”

You nod, cringing. “Yeah, his name’s Trent. I… may or may not have dated him for a few months last year.”

The man laughs out loud. “You dated a Trent?”

“What, like you’ve never made a questionable life choice?” you challenge. “Besides, you shouldn’t judge someone based on the sins of their parents. It’s not his fault they gave him a terrible name.”

“Sure, but it is on him for going along with it,” he replies with a shrug. “I would’ve changed my name as soon as I could if my parents had named me Trent. But hey, that’s just one man’s opinion.”

You laugh. “Okay then, Not-Trent.” Relinquishing your grip on his arm, you let your fingers graze his hand before pulling away entirely. “What do you say we continue this conversation over a drink?”

The man, whose name is decidedly not Trent, catches your fingers in his and gives them a gentle squeeze. “Happily.”

One drink turns into two, and then three. By the end of the hour, you are feeling pleasantly warm, the alcohol spreading through your veins like molasses and turning your surroundings into a hazy blur. The music has grown even louder, pounding against your eardrums, and you grab onto Not-Trent’s wrist as he sets his now-empty glass back down onto the counter.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” you ask, raising your voice to be heard over the thumping bassline. “I can’t even hear myself think.”

“The parking lot’s out back,” he suggests. “Why don’t we get some air?”

You nod and stand up on wobbly legs, cursing your decision to wear heels when you stumble into your companion. He steadies you with a gentle but firm hand, and you don’t miss the way his touch lingers on your lower back, his palm warm through the material of your blouse.

Together, the two of you pick your way through the throng of swaying bodies on the dancefloor. The bassline thuds in your ears, dark and hypnotic, and you can feel the reverberations thrumming across the slats of your ribs and echoing in the cavern of your chest like a second heartbeat.

It’s almost a relief, then, when you step out into the cool night air. Your ears continue to ring for a few seconds, but it soon fades and leaves behind only the muted hum of traffic from the street and the faint sound of music from inside. At your side, Not-Trent releases a long breath and leans against the brick wall of the building, and you turn to take in the steep slopes of his side profile as he tilts his head up toward the velvety night sky.

He’s handsome. Dressed in ripped jeans and black leather, he’s a sight to behold, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been craving a bit of intimacy for quite some time now. The alcohol swimming through your system makes you bolder than you normally would be, and you reach out to lay a hand on his arm. He turns toward you with a silent question glimmering in his irises, but you simply step closer, until you’re pinning him against the wall with your body and you’re breathing the same air.

“Hey,” you say, your voice an airy whisper. His eyes are near obsidian in the dimness of the parking lot, illuminated only by the orange glow of the streetlamps on either end, and your gaze flickers down to his mouth before roving to the freckle that sits upon his top lip. “Kiss me?”

Your companion’s eyes widen. His lips part, but no words come out, and you’re about to repeat your question when he finally finds his voice again.

“That’s really… that’s not a good idea.” Awkwardly, he clears his throat, but the hoarseness of his voice and the harsh bob of his Adam’s apple give away his true desires. “Look, you’ve been drinking. We both have, and—”

You cut him off, pushing up to your tiptoes and planting a messy kiss to the soft dip just beneath his bottom lip. “Don’t care,” you mumble against his skin. “I want you.”

Your companion laughs weakly. His hands find their way to your waist and pause there, as if he can’t decide whether to push you away or pull you closer. “You don’t even know me,” he murmurs.

“I don’t have to know you,” you reply. Your fingers drag down his chest, trailing along the delicate silver necklace that rests against the black of his shirt. From the chain hangs a round pendant, the surface engraved with the letter J. Slowly, you trace it with a fingertip, the metal shining even in the dim light, and satisfaction blooms in your heart when your companion’s throat bobs again. “I want you,” you breathe, soft but insistent. “Isn’t that enough?”

“I—” He clears his throat and tries again, and you wonder if he realizes that his hands have slid down to your hips, or that there’s a growing hardness against your lower stomach that’s becoming increasingly harder to ignore. “Look, I’m flattered—really, I am. And you’re… I mean, fuck, you’re gorgeous. But I don’t think we should do anything when you’re clearly not in the right frame of mind to be making this kind of decision, and—”

“And, nothing.” You wind your arms around his neck, pressing close and grinding subtly against the bulge in his pants. You smirk when he releases a low hiss from between his teeth, and hide it by laying a trail of kisses along the stretch of bare skin exposed by the dip of his collar. “Stop being such a gentleman,” you whisper. Your fingers trail down his chest, past the silver of his pendant and down to the faded denim of his jeans, teasing at the cool metal of his belt buckle. “I want this. But if you’re not interested, I can always go back in there and—”

The rest of your sentence dies in your throat. Your companion has tugged you flush against him in one smooth motion, and your gasp is cut off by the firm press of his mouth against yours. Immediately, you melt into the kiss, and a moan tears from your lips when he spins you around and pins you against the brick wall of the building.

“You’re a spoiled little thing, huh?” His breath fans hot against your cheeks, and you shiver when you meet his eyes and see the dark promise reflected there. “Used to getting what you want, huh, princess?”

Your breath hitches at the endearment—something your companion doesn’t miss. “Oh, you like that?” He chuckles hoarsely, and when he speaks again it’s in a rasp that sends heat straight to your core. “What else do you like, hmm? You want me to be rough with you, princess? Or should I be gentle and treat you like a queen?”

You reach up, raking your fingers through his hair and skimming across the soft strands of his undercut before finding purchase at his nape. “You talk too much,” you whisper.

And then you’re crushing your mouth back against his, whining when he immediately takes back control of the kiss. His grip slides downward, his fingertips digging into the skin just above the curve of your ass, and you squeak when he grabs the back of your thigh and hooks your leg around his waist.

“You feel that?” he rasps into your ear, nipping at the delicate shell and chortling when you keen. Your skirt has ridden up dangerously high on your spread thighs, and you let out a soft whimper when he grinds harshly against your center. The lace of your panties and the denim of his jeans are the last barricades between you, and you wonder, vaguely, whether your companion has a bit of an exhibitionist streak when he slides one of your sleeves down your shoulder and begins kissing a trail down to the swell of your cleavage. “You feel how hard you’ve gotten me?”

You lean down, kissing the soft spot where his jaw meets his ear before letting your teeth graze against his skin. “Why don’t you do something about it then?”

He hisses out a sharp breath, his hands tightening their hold on your hips. “You’ve got quite the mouth on you, huh? I can’t wait to make you eat your words.”

Any retort you may have had is interrupted by a sudden swell of music and the sound of a slamming door. Whirling to face the source of the noise, you immediately spot a familiar head of lavender hair atop broad shoulders encapsulated in the black uniform of the bar. Jin hasn’t noticed the two of you yet, his attention fixated on his cell phone screen, but he looks up when you let out a little squeak of surprise and shove your companion’s chest in an attempt to create some distance between you.

“Hey.” Jin raises a hand in greeting, a knowing smirk curling his lips. “This phone call shouldn’t be too long, so please. Don’t stop the party on my behalf.”

Heat floods to your cheeks. There isn’t much use protesting against his insinuation, considering the rather compromising position you’re in. Much to your relief, though, your companion simply huffs out a chuckle and waves Jin off. “Thanks, man, but we’ll get out of your hair.” Lowering his voice, he turns back to you. “Coming, princess?”

You nod. He offers you his hand, and you take it gratefully, adjusting your skirt so that it drapes properly over your hips and thighs again.

“Have a good night!” Jin calls after you, amusement lacing every word. You can’t work up the nerve to respond, and luckily, you don’t have to. Your companion leads you around the corner of the building, where several rows of cars are parked beneath an orange streetlamp. On this side, the exterior brick wall is painted with a mural, and you admire the colorful galaxies and nebulae swirling amidst silvery white stars and the word serendipity spray-painted in pale blue.

The last car in the row is parked just beneath the letter Y, and it’s here that your companion stops. The sleek black vehicle has an almost vintage feel to it, and you glance up when you hear the jingle of metal.

“I’m guessing this is yours?”

He nods, pulling a set of keys from the pocket of his leather jacket and inserting one into the lock. “Yeah. You like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” you tell him, tracing the edge of the passenger window “Makes my car look like a total piece of shit by comparison.”

Your companion chuckles, pulling open the driver’s side door, and you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the window as he presses a button to unlock the rest of the doors. Your hair’s a bit of a mess and your mascara has smudged beneath your right eye, and you hurriedly swipe at it as your companion turns his attention back to you.

“So,” he says. “Now what? I can give you a ride home, if you want.”

Deliberately, you let your gaze drop down to his crotch, where his bulge—albeit waning—is still visible. “Seriously? I thought you were going to… what was it again? Make me eat my words?”

And just like that, it’s as if a switch has flipped. His eyes darken to obsidian, his lips settling into a stern line, and you barely have time to draw in a breath before he’s caging you against the side of his car and molding his mouth to yours. Your lips part beneath the onslaught, and he wastes no time in dipping inside to explore, licking into you until you’re both breathless.

“Inside,” he breathes once you’ve broken apart, and you instantly obey. You wrench the door open and all but tumble into the backseat, and he isn’t far behind as he slots himself between your spread thighs. Your hands fly to his shoulders where you help him shuck off his leather jacket, tossing it carelessly to the front where it lands in a heap on the dashboard before focusing your attention on the hem of his black t-shirt. Your companion obliges you as you push it upward to expose his toned abdomen, grabbing it by the collar and pulling it off the rest of the way when your reach falls a little short in the cramped interior of the backseat.

“Your turn,” he whispers when you try to reach for his belt, his hands settling around your wrists. “It’s only fair, princess.”

Pouting, you let your hands fall limp in his grasp, and he chuckles as he leans down to pacify you with a kiss. Deft fingers find the hem of your blouse, pushing it up until you can twist out of the material. You throw it aside with no regard for where it lands on the ground, and lay back as your companion drinks you in, his dark gaze raking across the lacy black lingerie that decorates your curves and skims you like a second skin. “Fuck,” he breathes, his voice hoarse with a combination of amazement and disbelief. “You’re stunning.”

You smile, trailing a fingertip from the dip of his collarbone down to the silver necklace that sits prettily against his bare chest. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you tell him, tracing the letter engraved into his pendant. “Jay.”

Your companion—newly dubbed Jay—smiles back. “You’re something else, princess,” he murmurs, before leaning down to kiss you again. He explores your mouth thoroughly—languidly—before moving down to nip at your neck, and already, you can feel the beginnings of marks beginning to form, blossoming across your skin as irrefutable proof of your tryst.

It isn’t long before Jay frees you from your bra, watching with carnal fascination as your breasts spill out of the lacy material. You whine when he reaches out to cup one, his palm hot against your bare skin, and he smirks crookedly when a pinch to your nipple makes your back arch off the leather of the seat. “So pretty,” he rasps. “I can’t wait to see how you look stretched around my cock.”

“Stop waiting, then,” you tell him, trying again for his belt buckle. This time, he lets you fumble it open, leaning back to watch you work with hooded eyes and a lazy little smile. Emboldened, you push aside the denim of his jeans and free his cock from the confines of his underwear. He’s hard and hot and heavy in your palm, and your tongue darts out instinctively at the sight of the pearlescent precum beading the tip.

“Jay,” you murmur, thumbing across the head of his erection and smirking when he hisses in pleasure. “Fuck me.”

Jay seems to consider your demand, mischief flitting across his features before he manages to school his expression into something more neutral. “Where are your manners, princess?” he asks, pushing your hand away and giving himself a few long, slow strokes. “Say please, if you want it so bad.”

For a moment, you consider refusing. Jay seems to be the type of man who enjoys a good game, but between the state of his cock and the earlier interruption, you’re pretty sure he’s nearing his limit. And even if he isn’t, you are. And so, you shelve your pride for the time being, and trail a hand down the length of your bared body as you bat your lashes up at him. “Fuck me, Jay,” you repeat. “Please. Want your cock so bad.”

His answering smile is equal parts amusement and satisfaction, and altogether sinful. “That’s my girl,” he rasps, before shoving your panties aside. Lining the head of his cock up, he enters you in one smooth thrust, and you moan as your walls stretch to accommodate his girth. You’re more than wet enough to take him in his entirety, your eyes fluttering shut when he bottoms out, and he groans hoarsely as he takes a second to relish the feeling of your walls gripping him so tightly.

“Fuck. You’re so wet, princess.” Jay dips a thumb into your slick, spreading it across your clit and rubbing a few experimental circles around the sensitive nub. He groans when you clench around him, his hips stuttering, and you squeeze around him again just to hear him grit out another curse. “Shit. I’m not going to last long at this rate.”

“Don’t care,” you murmur, rocking against him and sighing when the motion sends him a little deeper into your core. “Just fuck me, Jay. Please.”

Jay leans in, a dark lock of hair falling across his forehead as he plants an indulgent kiss on your waiting mouth. “Anything for you, princess,” he breathes. Slowly, he pulls back until only the tip of his cock remains inside you. Then he’s slamming forward, and you can’t even find it in yourself to care about the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin or the way the car rocks. Jay’s thumbing across your clit in tight circles that he times perfectly with the rock of his hips, and you wonder whether the rapidly building pleasure in your belly is due to your dry spell or if he’s just that good. You can feel every inch of him as he fills you up repeatedly, his brows furrowed in concentration and his dark hair flopping as he drives deeper in search of the spot that will have you seeing stars.

You know he’s found it when the pleasure in your belly spikes, your back arching off the backseat. Your skin is sticky against the dark leather and you’re certain the sweat gathering at your temples has destroyed the last of your makeup, but Jay alleviates your concerns with a particularly well-timed thrust and a harsh nip to the soft spot at your clavicle. You keen out something unintelligible, and his lips stretch into a smirk against your skin.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “Cum for me, princess.”

That’s all it takes for the mounting pressure to snap. Your body collapses into a searing orgasm, the pleasure flaring out like a supernova and spreading through your veins like wildfire. “F-fuck, Jay—” you gasp, your fingers scrabbling at his back for purchase and no doubt leaving scratches in their wake. “Fuck, you feel so—”

The remainder of your words trail off into garbled nonsense, and Jay huffs out a strained chuckle as he begins chasing after his own orgasm, rutting against you in a way that both prolongs your pleasure and sustains his own. “Shit,” he groans, his eyes fluttering shut. “Fuck, that’s it. Look at you—taking my cock so well. So pretty and perfect and—”

Whatever he was going to say dissolves into a groan as he gives a few more erratic thrusts before his release overwhelms him. Creamy warmth floods through you, and you rub his back tiredly as his head drops onto your shoulder, his breath flaring hot against your skin as he rides out his orgasm.

It takes several long seconds for the pleasure to recede. Your legs are still shaky when Jay pulls away, straightening up and tucking himself back into his jeans. There’s an empty ache in your core now that you are no longer stuffed full of his cock, and already, you are missing the feeling. Still, you push that aside as you sit up, adjusting your panties and wincing at the wetness that soaks the material and sticks to your skin.

“So,” Jay says after a moment’s silence, and you glance over at him when he huffs out a short chuckle. “That was fun.”

“Not bad at all,” you agree weakly, an irrepressible smile tugging at your lips.

Jay grins. It’s a bright, infectious grin—and it’s one that you’ve already grown rather fond of in the short period of time you’ve known him. It’s a grin that showcases his perfect teeth and crinkles his eyes into crescents, and one that all but forces you to grin back.

“Here, give me your phone,” he says, and you watch as he punches in his number once you hand it over. “Just in case you ever wanna do this again,” he tells you, handing it back. “Don’t be a stranger, princess.”

You glance down at his contact information, saved under the moniker you’d given him and affixed with a short string of emojis. “I won’t,” you tell him, chuckling. “In fact, I just might take you up on the offer.”

The screen of your laptop has long since gone dark, and you stretch your arms overhead before waking it again. Rolling your shoulders, you navigate back to the main Netflix menu, hovering over the resume button and watching the trailer loop in the background.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about Jay often. You’ve texted each other quite often since that night in his car—usually when you’re bored and alone and have had a few too many glasses of wine in the evenings. You’ve found yourself tapping on his name instinctively during those odd, ambiguous hours—when late night and early morning meld together and you’re aching for a bit of relief.

And as if he knows you’re thinking about him, your phone buzzes against the coffee table, the screen lighting up with a familiar name.

[11:22pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinkin about u, pretty girl 😘

It’s followed by an image, and your heart rate picks up, thudding loudly against your ribs as you open it.

Fuck.

Your memories of Jay’s face—made all the more hazy by the alcohol and the amount of time elapsed since your first and only meeting—truly don’t do him justice. Though the photograph cuts off just above his nose, you can still admire the sharp angle of his jaw and the fullness of his puckered lips. His skin is golden against the white of his t-shirt, and you lick your lips before thumbing across your screen to respond.

[11:23pm] You: yeah? what else are you thinking about, hmm?

His response is instantaneous.

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinking about that pretty little pussy of yours

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: how good it looked in that pic u sent me tuesday 👅

You barely even notice the way your hand begins trailing down your body, pushing aside the elastic waistband of your sweats. It’s as if you’re on autopilot, as your fingers find their way to the damp spot growing on your panties.

Yeah? you write back with your free hand, already teasing at your clothed folds with the other. Tell me more.

///

It’s an uncharacteristically warm Friday morning when you find yourself in the elevator with Jimin, a good friend of yours who works on one of the lower levels of your office building. “Morning,” he says as he steps in, a large iced coffee in hand despite the fact that it’s still very much the middle of winter. Then he squints, leaning a little closer. “Oh my god. You got laid!”

“Oh my god, not so loud!” you hiss, whacking him on the shoulder and jabbing the button to close the elevator doors. “And no, not exactly. I’ve just been texting Jay.”

“Texting, sure.” Jimin mimes air quotes around the word and rolls his eyes. “You’re sexting him, and we all know it. How many pictures of his dick do you have saved on your phone now?”

“Oh my—” You sigh, trailing off. “Can we not talk about this right now?”

“Right, of course.” Jimin takes a sip of his coffee and pretends to check his watch. “When would you like to talk about it then? Do you need to check your calendar? Can I book an appointment for later this afternoon?”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Shut up.”

Jimin just grins, his lips puckered around his straw. “So, how’s Jay? Have you asked for his real name yet?”

You shrug. “What’s the point? It’s not like we’re friends or anything. We’ve literally only met the one time.”

“Yeah, but that’s just because you’re a coward,” Jimin points out. “What’s stopping you from meeting up with him again? You have his number. You have at least one photo of his dick. Ask him out already!”

“It’s not that easy, though,” you sigh. The elevator doors open to let a few more people in, and you move to the side and lower your voice so that only Jimin can hear. “Jay—he’s not exactly boyfriend material. I mean, we fucked in his car the first night we met.”

“So?” Jimin frowns and takes another sip of his iced coffee. “You talk about things besides sex, don’t you? You definitely told him about your goldfish dying, at least. I mean, you told him before you even told me!”

“Yes I did, and he was appropriately sympathetic about Mustache’s passing, unlike some people,” you sniff. “Get over it already, won’t you?”

“Never,” Jimin replies, ignoring your pointed jab. “I’m sure you only told him because you knew you could get a sympathy sext out of it. How many dick pics did you get out of that night, anyway?”

“You’re gross,” you tell him, punching him in the arm. “Not to mention that’s exactly why Jay’s not boyfriend material. He’s perfectly happy with—whatever it is we’re doing. I can’t just ruin that by asking him to get dinner.” You frown, gnawing on your bottom lip. “I don’t want to make this into something that it’s not.”

Jimin hesitates. “Fine, okay. I guess I can understand that.”

“Yeah.”

There’s a pause, as the elevator makes a few more stops. You watch the numbers crawl higher, and know that you’ll soon have to part ways with your friend..

“Hey.” You nudge Jimin with your shoulder, just as the elevator doors close and you begin the ascent to his floor. “Wanna know something interesting?”

Jimin looks up from his phone, where he’s scrolling through Twitter. “Always.”

“My boss’ son is coming to the party tomorrow.”

Jimin’s eyebrows disappear into his ashy blond hair at your revelation. “Kyunghee’s son? Hoseok, or whatever?”

You chuckle. “The one and only. She’s found about a million ways to bring him up in conversation this past week. She thinks we’re a match made in heaven.”

“Wow.” Jimin releases a long breath. “I wonder what he’s like, then.”

You shrug, adjusting the strap of your work tote over your shoulder. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

///

The morning of the party, you wake up to an empty refrigerator. Half stale cereal and the last dregs of milk from the carton become your breakfast, and you munch on that as you mull over the contents of your closet. You’re still in your pajamas, but you pull out your comfiest jeans and a sweater to change into after you finish eating. Then you turn to your collection of dresses, rifling through them and mentally debating the merits of each material and color.

You could go in one of two directions tonight. On the one hand, this is still a work party, and as such your attire should probably maintain a certain level of decorum. But on the other, you’re meeting Hoseok Jung for the first time tonight. You aren’t necessarily looking to start anything with the man, of course, but you do want to look good. With that in mind, you eventually settle on a deep red number that you pull out of the very back of your closet, made of a silky material that skims your curves and accentuates your best assets. Laying it on the bed, you begin your hunt for a pair of matching shoes. Twenty minutes of searching and another five of agonizing later, you step into the bathroom, intent on showering and getting on with the rest of your day.

Upon exiting the bathroom, you decide that tackling the state of your refrigerator takes top priority over your other weekend errands. Sitting down at the dining table, you take stock of what you have in your pantry, planning out your meals for the upcoming week and making a list of what you need to purchase in order to make them a reality. It’s just after one in the afternoon when you exit your apartment with a completed grocery list and your purse stuffed full of reusable canvas bags. The store is a short walk from where you live, and you decide to put in your earbuds as your feet navigate the familiar route. The temperature is surprisingly mild for winter, and the sun shines bright from its perch in the cloudless blue sky. It’s perfect weather for a walk, and the fresh air clears your mind and eases your heart.

At the grocery store, you forego the stack of baskets and instead grab a shopping cart. Weaving your way up and down the aisles, you check items off the list on your phone one by one. Eventually, you find yourself in the cereal section, grabbing a box of granola before turning to where your favorite cereal normally sits. It isn’t there, and you turn in a full circle, confused, until your gaze finally lands on the familiar box on the top shelf.

Great.

Sighing, you push up to your tiptoes, stretching your arm as far as it can reach. Your fingertips graze the shelf, but you can’t quite get a grip on the box itself. Glancing down, you scan the bottommost shelf and wonder if you can step on it to give yourself a boost.

“Need a hand?”

The voice comes from behind you, and a vague sense of familiarity sparks in your brain. Slowly, you turn around, and your entire body freezes when your gaze slides up to the speaker’s face.

“Jay.” The syllable escapes you in a near whisper. “H-hi.”

“Hey.”

Jay stands before you, looking like sin incarnate in a faded denim jacket, black sweatpants slung low on his hips, and not much else. At his throat, his silver necklace sparkles, the silver J pendant glinting beneath the fluorescent lights of the store, and you’re suddenly beyond grateful that you decided to put on a decent sweater before leaving.

“Here,” he says, stepping forward until he’s close enough that you can smell his cologne—sandalwood tinged with sweet citrus. “Let me help you with that.”

The sudden proximity has your breath hitching in your throat. Your heart thuds erratically against your ribs as he reaches around you, the denim flaps of his jacket gaping in a way that exposes even more of his bare chest. By the time he pulls back with your cereal box in hand, you feel almost faint, belatedly realizing that you’d been holding your breath.

“You wanted this, right?” Jay asks, and you aren’t sure if you’re imagining the innuendo underlying his words or the teasing inflection of the syllables.

“Y-yeah, that’s the one,” you manage, fighting to quell the uneven tempo of your heartbeat as you accept the box. “Thanks.”

“Happy to help,” he replies. Then he leans in, close enough that you can feel his warm breath fanning your cheek as he murmurs his next sentence into your ear. “Anything for you, princess. You know that.”

Heat floods across your cheeks. Your heart skips two full beats before taking off into a sprint, and it’s impossible to ignore the way your core begins to thrum, as if anticipating a repeat of that night you first met all those weeks ago. Almost instinctively, your eyes dart up to the ceiling where the security cameras are, and Jay follows the trajectory of your gaze with a low chuckle and a soft brush of your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Sorry, princess. As much as I’d love to get my hands on you, I’m kind of on a time crunch today.”

You can’t stop the wave of disappointment that washes over you, even if you’re in the exact same boat. “Rain check, then?”

“Rain check,” he agrees. Slowly, you reach up to touch the engraved silver pendant resting against his chest, rubbing it between your fingertips before tracing the curve of the J, and he catches your wandering fingers between his and presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“You know how to reach me,” he murmurs with a mischievous wink. His gaze lingers even after he’s released your hand, and you clear your throat awkwardly before turning to deposit your cereal box into your shopping cart.

The two of you go your separate ways then, exchanging goodbyes. You finish the rest of your grocery shopping in a daze, idly going through the motions at checkout and letting muscle memory guide you back home. Your arms are aching by the time you step past the threshold of your apartment, and you heave your shopping bags up onto the kitchen counter with a relieved sigh before returning to the entryway to toe off your shoes. You throw together a sandwich as you unpack your groceries, taking a big bite as you walk back to your bedroom to look at the dress you’ve picked out. Pacing over to the closet, you double-check your shoe choice. Briefly, you debate whether or not to wear flats instead of heels.

There are still a few hours left before you have to start getting ready, so you take the last of your sandwich back to the kitchen and whip up a smoothie to go with it. You scroll through your phone as you eat, browsing through the latest news headlines and scrolling through your social media accounts. Just before six o’clock, as the sun starts setting beyond the horizon and casting long shadows across your living room, you start getting changed. You snap a photo in the mirror once you’re dressed, pulling up Jimin’s name in your phone and sending it to him.

[6:13pm] You: last chance to come tonight

Your phone buzzes with a response almost immediately.

[6:14pm] Jimin: nah. i’d hate to step on hoseok’s toes.

You laugh. Not so fast, you text back. We don’t even know anything about the guy yet. What if he’s boring? Or sexist?

[6:15pm] Jimin: if u think kyunghee raised a sexist you’re seriously deranged

[6:16pm] Jimin: now stop taking selfies and get your ass out the door! you’re gonna be late!!!!

///

Each year, the holiday party tends to be a little over the top, and this year is no exception. The company has bought out the entirety of a restaurant for the evening, and you glance around in amazement at the twinkling lights and lush evergreen boughs decorating the walls and strung up along the ceiling. An assortment of sparkling ornaments hangs from the massive tree in the far corner, interspersed between silver tinsel and more lights. Grabbing a champagne flute off a passing server’s tray, you head farther into the restaurant, skirting around tables draped in creamy linen and greeting your colleagues and friends.

“Is she alone?”

“Figures.”

The voices come from the direction of the open bar, and somehow, you just know that they’re talking about you. Lottie, Hyejin, and Sandra are clustered in the corner with glasses of wine in hand, casting glances around the restaurant and gossiping about anything and everything with a pulse. You’re sorely tempted to grab the nearest pitcher of water off a table and pour it over their heads, but you suppress the urge and instead head over with a saccharine smile. “So lovely to see you, {Name},” Lottie says as you approach.

“I love your dress,” Sandra adds. “Very slimming.”

“Thanks,” you reply, putting on your brightest, fakest smile. “Yours is great too. How are you and your husband enjoying the party so far?”

Sandra’s face sours, and you hide your smirk in your champagne flute. Maybe it’s petty to bring up her rocky relationship, but you’ve been subject to snide comments from Sandra and her friends for years now and it’s become increasingly hard for you to bite your tongue. A few tables away, you spot Sandra’s husband, Rodney, take an enormous gulp of his whiskey and wince as it burns down his throat.

“We’re all having a wonderful time, aren’t we, ladies?” Lottie cuts in when Sandra takes too long to answer. “Hyejin’s date is over there with Rodney, and my boyfriend is fetching himself a drink. You remember Dev, don’t you?”

You nod, even though it’s a lie. “Sure. Say hi to him for me.”

Lottie’s lips curve up into a smile, her head tilting to the side, and you’re suddenly reminded of a snake rearing its head back for the kill. “So, what about you? Have you brought someone tonight, or—?”

“Hi ladies!” Kyunghee materializes at your side, her lips painted a festive red shade to match her dress. She’s wearing the disingenuous smile that she reserves for the resident gossips of your office, and you try not to let your relief show on your face when Lottie’s attention refocuses on your manager.

“So good to see you, Kyunghee,” she simpers. “Have you been here long?”

“Not as long as you,” your manager replies, nodding at the near-empty wineglass in her hand. “I see we’re already making a dent in the wine supply, and you’re falling behind, {Name}. Why don’t we go remedy that, hmm?”

She doesn’t give you a chance to respond, grabbing your arm and leading you away. Kyunghee is surprisingly spry for a woman her age, and you follow after her with some difficulty as she marches through the throngs of conversing people, all the way to the line at the open bar.

“I’d like you to meet someone,” she says, gesturing at the man standing at the end of the line with his back to you. “{Name}, this is my son, Hoseok.”

The man turns around at the sound of his name, a warm, affable smile stretched across his face. “Hi, I’m H—” he begins, but he’s cut off by your sharp intake of breath. His eyes go wide, his smile fading as his mouth falls open, and you’re certain you’re wearing an even more dumbfounded expression. “It’s you,” he says, his voice hoarse.

“Wh-what… how…” You trail off, speechless. The words flounder and die in your throat as your brain struggles to process this development, and you practically feel the way the gears in your head churn to a stuttering halt.

Because this man standing before you, the one that Kyunghee has just introduced as her son, is none other than Jay. He looks completely and utterly devastating in a navy waistcoat and matching slacks, a green tie shaped like a Christmas tree knotted loosely around the white collar of his shirt. His dark hair is parted, his undercut exposed, and you can’t tear your gaze away from the loose strand that has fallen across his forehead.

“H-hi.”

Jay—Hoseok—swallows. “Hi.”

Kyunghee glances between the two of you, her brows furrowing. “I take it you two already know each other?”

Hoseok’s ears begin taking on a scarlet tinge, the color spreading to his cheeks as he struggles to find his vocabulary again. “I—yeah. Yeah, we’ve met.”

“Right. Do I even want to know how?” she asks dubiously, before shaking her head and huffing out a sigh. “No, forget I asked. I don’t want to know. I’ll just leave you two to… catch up.”

Waving goodbye, Kyunghee disappears back into the crowd of partygoers milling around. Hoseok turns back to you, sucking in a deep breath, and you fight the urge to stare down at your toes as his gaze roves across your face.

“I can’t believe this,” he says, breaking the silence that’s fallen between you at last. “My mom’s been talking about you for months, but I never imagined that it’d be you.”

“You’re telling me,” you reply, finally having recovered your voice. “Kyunghee brings you up all the time, but I never thought… I mean, we didn’t even know each other’s names, and now…” You shrug. “Here we both are.”

“It’s a pretty crazy coincidence, huh?”

“Definitely.”

A beat passes, and then two. You’re fully aware that you’re staring, but you don’t dare blink, afraid that he’ll disappear if you close your eyes. Of all the things that you thought might happen tonight, this particular meeting wasn’t even close to making the list. Never would you have thought that the man you only knew as Jay would turn out to be Kyunghee’s son. Never would you have connected Jay to the photographed little boy in yellow suspenders on Kyunghee’s desk, or realized that they were one and the same.

From behind you, someone loudly clears their throat. Another voice calls for you to get a move on, already, and both you and Hoseok belatedly realize that you are still standing in line for the open bar. Hoseok’s eyes go wide again, and you nearly tread on his toes when you both try to move forward. “After you,” he says with a chuckle, gesturing for you to go in front of him, and that’s enough to break the tension. You step ahead of him with a laugh, catching up to the line, and Hoseok doesn’t stray far as he follows your lead.

“So, what are you drinking?” he asks, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Vodka soda with a twist?”

“Actually, I think I’m going to stick with wine tonight,” you reply, peering at the bottles lined up on the counter. “What about you?”

“Hmm. Jack and coke, I think. Nothing else is really calling my name right now.”

Grabbing your drinks, the two of you begin searching for a place to sit. You spot Kyunghee at a table near the front, and she smiles knowingly and offers you a thumbs-up when she catches your eye. Eventually, you settle on a table near the Christmas tree, the lights glimmering off the glasses and reflecting off your knife as you pick it up to butter a slice of crusty bread from the basket in the center. Hoseok follows your lead, grabbing a piece for himself, and the two of you munch in silence for a few seconds before Hoseok breaks it.

“You know, my mom says you’re the perfect girl for me” he says with a dry little chuckle. “Think she’s right?”

“I don’t know,” you answer. “It’s funny, though—Kyunghee’s been telling me the same thing. She sings your praises all the time.”

Hoseok laughs and scratches the back of his neck. “Oh, jeez, that’s kind of embarrassing. I’m glad she’s saying good things, at least.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” you tell him, grinning. “She’s only shown us one photo album from your childhood.”

His face crumples. “Was it the Disneyland one?”

You nod, fighting back laughter, and watch as Hoseok groans and lets his forehead meet the linen-covered tabletop with a dull thunk.

“I don’t like rollercoasters,” he mumbles into the tablecloth, his voice muffled by the material. “They make me queasy.”

“Even now?” you ask, and he nods.

“Yep.”

The clinking of a fork against a wineglass—amplified and broadcast through an array of invisible speakers built into the restaurant’s walls—interrupts any further conversation. You twist in your seat to watch your company’s leadership give their opening remarks, listening as they congratulate everyone for a great year and wish you a happy holiday season. The servers begin going out with plates of food, and you thank them as they set yours down. Hoseok does the same before raising his glass in your direction, clearing his throat and offering you a crooked little smile.

“Here’s to second meetings.”

“Third, if you count the store earlier,” you correct, and he chuckles and nods in agreement before clinking his drink against yours.

You spend the entirety of dinner chatting with Hoseok, getting to know him beyond the few facts Kyunghee has mentioned and what little you’ve gleaned from texting him the last two months. He tells you all about his dance studio, Hope World, where he teaches both contemporary dance and the occasional Pilates class. You find out that in addition to rollercoasters, he also dislikes sour foods and raisins, but he loves mint chocolate and sweet and sour pork. He also has a very low tolerance for alcohol—something he tells you as he tilts the rest of his drink into his mouth. “Should I be worried?” you ask as he sets his glass back down, and he chuckles and shakes his head, sending the loose tendril of hair flopping across his forehead.

Dessert is served, and subsequently eaten. The music is turned up, and people slowly begin finding their way to the open space that serves as an impromptu dancefloor. Hoseok rises to his feet and extends a hand toward you, and you only hesitate for the briefest of seconds before accepting it. He leads you out amongst the other swaying couples, his hand finding its way to the curve of your waist, and you rest your hand on his shoulder as he begins guiding you in a slow, simple waltz.

“So?” Hoseok’s voice is a low murmur, soft and gentle against the shell of your ear. “What’s the verdict?”

You blink. “The verdict?”

Even without looking, you can tell that he’s smiling. You can hear it in the lilt of his voice, and imagine it in the curve of his lips. “About me,” he clarifies, carefully pulling back so you can spin in a circle beneath his outstretched arm. “About us. My mom will never let me hear the end of it if she turns out to be right, but I still wanna know. So what are you thinking?”

“Are you asking if I think we’re perfect for each other?” you ask, giggling. “I don’t know if I believe in all that, to be quite honest. Destiny and soulmates—I mean, doesn’t it seem a little too good to be true?”

Hoseok hums. “Maybe. But considering all that’s happened to us in the last couple of months, don’t you think there’s a chance that it's all more than simple coincidence?”

“Maybe,” you concede. “Still, I don’t know if I can give you a verdict just yet. We haven’t even gone on a date.”

“We did do things a little backwards,” Hoseok admits, tugging you close and winding his arm around your waist. “Let me make it up to you, then. Are you free tomorrow?”

“What if I am?” you challenge.

“Then, I’d like to take you out for breakfast,” he replies without missing a beat.

The prospect of a proper meal with Hoseok Jung does something funny to your insides. Still, something makes you hesitate, and you avert your gaze as you search for your next words. “I wasn’t expecting to end tonight with a date,” you admit slowly. “I honestly didn’t even think you were interested in… well, anything beyond sex, to be honest.”

Hoseok’s face creases into a frown, and you look up again when he murmurs your name. “I understand why you would think that,” he says. “Really, I do. But honestly? I had every intention of texting you and asking you out properly. I was going to play it cool and wait a few days, which was stupid in retrospect. And then you texted me first.”

“I texted y—” You trail off. “Oh, god.”

“It seemed like you’d been drinking,” Hoseok says with a shrug, and you press a finger to his lips before he can say anything more. You remember the night in question, and you remember the bottle of wine you’d consumed. And you definitely remember the photographs you’d sent of yourself, and the ones Hoseok had been kind enough to send in return.

“Wait, so you were going to ask me out? And then I… I sexted you?”

Hoseok nods, and you groan and bury your face into his chest.

“I can’t believe this,” you mutter, and you feel laughter rumble through his chest before a hand comes up to stroke along your back.

“Believe me, I’m not complaining,” he assures you. “But I’d still really like to take you out, so what do you say?”

His gaze doesn’t leave yours for a second as he awaits your answer, and your heart skips a beat when you look up to see the earnestness in his eyes and the hesitant smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Breakfast sounds wonderful,” you whisper, and the smile that blossoms on your companion’s face is nothing short of radiant.

“Good,” he says. “Great. Breakfast tomorrow, then. Now, can I kiss you?”

You’re already pushing up to your tiptoes, your fingers fisting in the soft hair at his nape. “God, yes.”

///

“Hey, you made it!”

You beam. “Hi.”

You and Hoseok are about to commence your first date, having just sat down at a cozy little café for breakfast. Hoseok has pulled your chair out in true gentlemanly fashion, and you can’t help but smile over your menu at the few lingering snowflakes that have yet to melt into his dark hair.

“So, here we are,” you remark. “Our fourth meeting.”

Hoseok’s lips stretch into his signature grin, breathtakingly bright and infectious. “And hopefully many more.”

You grin at him. “Yeah? Too bad this is breakfast, because I’d drink to that.”

He leans forward, his grin widening. “Next time,” he says as his hand finds its way around yours, his fingers slotting comfortably into the spaces between your own. “We can do dinner, maybe. Or I can cook for you. But for now, I’m just happy that we’re finally doing this.”

You give his hand a soft squeeze. “Me too.”

“Just promise me one thing?”

The sudden seriousness of his tone has your brow furrowing in concern. “Sure, of course,” you reassure. “What is it?”

He winces. “Please don’t tell my mom about all the dick pics.”

#hoseok #hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #bts smut #bts scenarios #hoseok scenarios #jhope #jung hoseok #bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fic #kpop scenarios #hoseok x you #strangers to lovers!au #strangers to lovers #lia writes #gonna change that stupid summary if i can think of anything better LOL #my brain went all mushy on me idk what's happening

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woogurl · 4 years ago

Text

(hi, it’s me again pretending as if i didn’t go on an unannounced hiatus).

yes, i’m back...for now. i’m not sure for how long. as i’m too busy these days, but i wanted to specifically make this post because it’s been bothering me for a while now. someone mentioned this in the woosan tag as well, but it’s...

non-atiny’s(and some anti-shipping atiny) who constantly feel the need to expose woosan as some cleverly put together ship that was carefully manufactured by the company. i’ve seen so many titles on youtube and posts on twitter saying how:

“woosan is obvious fanservice” and “woosan; a prime example of queerbating in kpop”

i’ve never seen a ship be so criticized for being ‘out there’ and ‘in your face’. i’ve made a post on fanservice before but this post will mainly be focused on why i think it’s completely unfair, dishonest, homophobic, and antagonistic to view their relationship as manufactured and fake. and before you go, ‘i’m sure they’re good friends but all that other stuff is clearly done by the company.’ and don’t get me wrong, bc kq is very much aware of the ships and do try to profit off of fanservice...like every other company. but the clearest indicator of this not being MOSTLY all fanservice is something i’ve mentioned many times before.

1. the rest of the ships in ateez not being anywhere near the intimacy and skinship as woosan.

2. body language.

3. the members THEMSELVES explaining their dynamics.

4. kq not FORCING ships.

ever since predebut and debut there’s ALWAYS been three main ships in ateez. seongjoong, yungi, and ofc woosan.

as you could see, woosan was definitely thee most popular ship. however, i do believe their popularity grew over time because during the early era i’m sure seongjoong dominated, even on fanfic sites they dominate the amount of fanfics written about them. however, woosan’s clear comfort and intimacy with each other made them more popular among atiny’s and even non atiny’s they even had some taekookers saying their ship was realer and that’s saying something xD.

something people really, no i mean REALLY need to understand is...doing fanservice does not invalidate an entire relationship.

there are plenty of celeb couples who enjoy publicly dating and showing affection.

then comes the argument of well, “if they were real they wouldn’t be so obvious about it.”

this statement bothers me because, people who believe that showing too much skinship is fanservice but then they’ll turn around and say at the same time it’s just culture???

it’s fair to see them doing their fake love dance routine and going THAT’S FANSERVICE. but looking at those moments and going ‘nah, their entire friendship gotta be fanservice.’ is delusional to me, as u like to call us shippers.

even if you do not ship them romantically, it’s odd to me that people see two same-sex idols expressing comfortability, intimacy and skinship together and feel like if they’re too open about it or if it looks too gay then it’s....fake? even tho fans love to say it’s just apart of their culture. but if it gets too gay, then it’s fanservice.

i can’t. xD

just because they’re completely comfortable with being intimate doesn’t mean they’re being forced to act that way...it literally just means they ARE that way.

i constantly put emphasis on being comfortable with skinship and intimacy bc, to me that’s just not something the company can force. body language is a reaction from your true emotions and your inner most thoughts. IT IS THE FOUNDATION TO FIGURING OUT WHAT A PERSON TRULY FEELS INSIDE AS THEIR EMOTIONS WILL ALWAYS TRANSLATE THROUGH THEIR BODY. if u are uncomfortable it will be revealed through body language. and i know a ton of seongjoong shippers are gonna hate me for this, but they are a prime example of this. trust me i’m not here to start a ship war, i am purely just using them as an example of discomfort in body language.

body language is something a company cannot control.

seongjoong show definite signs of being uncomfortable with intimacy, heck shippers use that one moment seonghwa expressed sadness bc hj hugged the other members and not him as a shipping moment lol. but even when they do hug it looks uncomfortable. my guess is bc hj is not good at expressing his feelings and isn’t a touchy person. and even tho seonghwa is comfortable with skinship, it’s understandable that it can become uncomfortable for him bc of the things i mentioned before as well as the power dynamics and age difference between them.

and here i am going to be stoned bc, i have more to say about seongjoong(don’t kill me).

bc something the company also can’t control is what OR who the members hang out with OUTSIDE of group activities. so that’s why i’m also mentioning that i also don’t think seongjoong is as close as shippers think they are as...seonghwa mostly hangs out with woosan. and it is almost always mentioned how often woosan hang out together off camera. even early on. woosan hung out so much that it literally came to a point where yeosang felt like his bestfriend was taken from him.

can we mention again how happy that makes san? and let’s not forget the moment woo said seonghwa was into him, but san was like. ‘you’re into me tho’ and they BOTH tried to gloss over that.

wooyoung: wHaT dO u mEaN?

lol. people love to say how much san’s whipped for woo, but woo’s probably even more whipped.

here’s more evidence of woosan enjoying each others company off camera. https://woogurl.tumblr.com/post/614348590729625600/nobody-wooyoung-san-and-i-bass-boosted#notes.

we can even talk about a more recent moment. the ateez debate about mint chocolate. dunno what’s with these kpop idols debating about mint choco ‘cause bts did it too. lol. anyway, they ended up talking about the group dynamics. and how woosan again are always together.

i-i’m sorry, but does moment remind y’all of a past moment? LMFAO. seonghwa’s feeling yeosang’s pain.

seonghwa’s just like woosan says they’re tired of each other but can’t detach themselves. and here’s more evidence that the company isn’t forcing them. for those who thinks kq has some masterplan when it comes to promoting ships.

when they talk about their dynamics, jongho says he feels left out but hj exposes him and says, ‘we’ve tried to pair him with someone but he(jongho) just doesn’t do it’

so this just solidifies my statement from earlier, if the members don’t wanna promote a ship. they ain’t gonna do it. we got one or two vlives from twoho and das it. lmfao. don’t get me wrong. i’m sure jongho get along well with yunho as well as the other members, but promoting any of the other ships in ateez like woosan isn’t gonna work well. ‘cause the rest of the members don’t have the same dynamics. woosan are comfortable with skinship and being intimate with each other and the other members just are not.

another piece of evidence is the members tired reaction whenever woosan is mentioned. lmfao.

this was so dramatic omg. but the members reactions are very telling of woosan’s relationship off screen. if woosan was just fanservice i do not believe the members would react the way they do, maybe share some knowing glances at each other like. ‘pfft, they think woosan’s real’ but their reactions are always big or very indicative of something bigger happening behind the scenes. lol.

i’m not gonna go into too much details, bc the members reactions to woosan are an entirely different post(i got so many posts to make. xD).

Lastly Wooyoung’s Tatto. I know right? He’s very committed to fanservice guys.

Amicus ad Aras is something that woosan made to signify their friendship, and the fact woo got a tattoo on his body of it means a lot. not to mention woo himself taking initiative to find something that represented their relationship.

i feel like i need to reiterate that the meaning of this tattoo was to define his relationship to san specifically so it applies to san specifically. woo has many MANY friends AS WELL as bestfriends yet he got a tattoo that can only be truly applied to san and no one else.

u can continue saying theyy’re just good friends doing fanservice, but it’s obv that woo has many good friends. so the next question u gotta answer is what separates san from the others.

#ateez #wooyoung #san #woosan #analysis

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let-the-dream-begin · 4 years ago

Text

In My Daughter’s Eyes Chapter 34: Forever

Chapter 33

Read on AO3

IMPORTANT PLEASE READ: This fic is on a very long hiatus until further notice. Please see the AO3 link for more details. Much love❤️

It was June third, the day after their eleven month anniversary. Claire couldn’t believe it; it was truly almost an entire year since that fateful Saturday at the stables. A year since their hearts and bodies had spoken what their voices dared not say.

He took her down port again, to a restaurant even more extravagant than the one they’d gone to the last time they were there. It was a glorious Saturday night, and Claire was blissfully happy.

Though something seemed off with Jamie.

His hand had done that tapping that he did when he was anxious the entire drive over, and it was his left, always his left, so she could not reach out and take it to soothe him.

“Why, you’re as nervous as you were on our first date,” she’d teased.

“Aye, well.” He’d forced a chuckle, winking at her. “It’s no’ every day ye celebrate nearly a year wi’ the woman ye love.”

She’d laughed, too, not really considering what an odd thing that was to say.

She also hadn’t considered how strange it was to go so all-out when it wasn’t actually a full year yet. She could truly only imagine how extravagant those plans would be.

And anyway…what was there to be nervous about? There wasn’t a single thing they hadn’t shared, a single thing they didn’t know about each other now. Holding his hand as they left the parking meter, strolling down the sidewalk to their reservation, his palm was as sweaty as it had been the night they’d first slept together.

Had he never eaten at this restaurant? Was he worried she wouldn’t like it?

Watching his hand jiggle at his side at a constant loop at the table, Claire put her menu down.

“Jamie. You’re shaking the whole table.”

“Christ, I’m sorry.” He stiffened, reigning himself in. “I didn’t even notice I was doing it.”

“Don’t be sorry,” she said gently. “I’m serious. What’s going on with you? You’re never so out of it when we go out.”

“Nothing’s going on,” he said, and she almost believed him. “I’m alright.”

“You’re about to cause an earthquake with that nervous tick of yours and you expect me to believe you’re alright?”

His lips quirked up in a sheepish grin, and for just a second she caught a glimpse of Jamie again, not the anxious mess she was at dinner with.

“Is something happening with your family? And you don’t want to ruin the evening by bringing it up now? Because I don’t give a damn about the evening. We can leave right now—”

“No.”

Claire jumped a little, wincing at how tightly he squeezed her hand.

“Sorry,” he stammered. “I’m mucking this all up.”

“Mucking what up?”

He sighed. “Nothing is wrong wi’ my family. Nothing at all is wrong. Everything is…perfect. My life hasna been this right since I was a bairn.”

Claire allowed a tiny smile, her eyes glimmering. “Okay,” she said softly, urging him to continue.

“That’s what has me feeling this way, I suppose. You are perfect. Our life is perfect. I suppose this big anniversary is just…I dinna ken. I think I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“Jamie…” Claire shook her head. “There is no other shoe. I’m not going anywhere. Faith is not going anywhere. You’re stuck with us, darling.”

He sighed in relief, and Claire could not comprehend that he would ever think otherwise to the point where he would feel such relief.

“Even when I’m shaking tables and sweating through shirts?”

She giggled. “Yes. Even then.”

He kissed her hand. “Good.”

The rest of the dinner went off without a hitch, though there was still something underlying buzzing through Jamie. She couldn’t wait to get him alone and reassure him the only way she knew how. If he kept this up, she might not be able to wait until they got home. She’d have to find a long, empty dock and drag him to the edge and kiss him senseless anywhere he wanted. She couldn’t stand to see him like this, and she wouldn’t rest until she could see that he was absolutely sure that she was his and his alone.

Forever.

They went to their usual ice cream place, and as they swapped cups and tasted each other’s, Jamie seemed to relax a little bit more, laughing, savoring the flavor like a little boy. That was one of the things she loved most about him. He took nothing for granted, not even the difference between his moose tracks ice cream and Claire’s mint chocolate chip, not even the pigeons and seagulls that watched them out of the corner of their eye the closer they got to the beach.

“I’ll unleash all my unholy power if they so much as peck this ice cream,” Claire said, eyeing a particularly nasty looking little bastard.

“Dinna fash, my lass,” Jamie said gallantly, raising his spoon like Excalibur. “No harm shall befall ye, or yer precious frozen treat. No’ so long as I’m wi’ ye.”

“My hero.” She batted her lashes at him, then craned her neck and puckered her lips, and he obliged her, kissing her soundly.

The farther along the beach they wandered, the less and less people they encountered, and Claire began scouting locations where they could tuck themselves away for even a few moments of privacy. She certainly couldn’t fully have him here, but a few sloppy kisses and heavy touches would do the trick. Her eyes flicked to a dock with a boat on the end, no people to be found on it. She gave him a mischievous look and began tugging him toward it.

“I ken that look well enough,” Jamie said, matching her mischief. “And I’ll no’ be giving in to ye.”

She stuck out her lip in her most convincing pout. “Why ever not?”

“I dinna trust ye no’ to get us arrested for public indecency. No’ with that gleam in yer eye.”

“I’ll be good! I promise.” She stopped tugging so she could press herself flush against him, arching her back just enough that her breasts were the first thing that came in contact with him. “Come on, love…I promise I’ll behave.”

She fully expected him to grab her hips, press his hardness into her with a growl, and accept defeat.

But instead, he just grinned. Not even a smirk, a full-faced grin.

“If ye can catch me, ye can have yer way wi’ me.”

“What—?”

And then before she could blink, Jamie was running, sprinting away from her, kicking up sand in his wake.

“You bastard!”

She hiked up her skirts and chased after him as fast as her bare feet could carry her in the sand. She lost track of how long she spent going after him, but he was not relenting, not letting her catch up. They were both laughing their heads off, whooping, Claire calling after him until her voice was hoarse. He finally stopped, appearing to not be exhausted in the slightest, and she slowed herself to a jog, chest heaving and burning.

“You absolute maniac,” she panted. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

She was laughing as she said it, and he laughed with her, reaching out his hand and taking it when she caught up. He kissed her hand.

“My legs feel like jell-o. You’d better be planning on carrying me back.”

“Aye, of course,” he said automatically. “But I want to show ye something first.”

She cocked a brow skeptically.

“Come on.”

He tugged on her hand, and out of sheer exhaustion, she allowed him to lead the way. They were walking right to a dock, and before Claire could exasperatedly complain that she’d been trying to do the same thing before he started that marathon, she realized.

There were candles lining every step of the boardwalk, a string of lights wrapped around each wooden post along the way. Across the top was a zigzag of more lights, held in place by thin metal poles attached to the wooden posts. She hadn’t seen it, even as she was running right toward it. She’d had her eyes locked on Jamie’s bright red hair all the while, desperate to catch up to him.

“What…what is all this…?” She was still out of breath, and on top of it her breath was gone for an entirely different reason.

He didn’t say anything, just kept his hand laced with hers and continued walking her down to the end of the pier.

“This is beautiful…is this always here…? I don’t understand…”

A familiar humming noise took her out of her dumbstruck admiration of the twinkling beauty, and she whipped her head around. “Jamie…what…?” Squinting, Claire could make out two figures at the opposite end of the pier, and a bouncing little thing in front of them.

Before she could process what was happening, she felt him take her other hand. She turned her head to question him, but was stunned into silence by the look on his face.

He was radiant.

The string of lights painted glowing streaks in his hair and twinkled in his eyes. And God, his eyes…they were bigger than she’d ever seen; she may very well have drowned in them if he didn’t start speaking.

“Claire, I…” His voice broke, and he cleared his throat. The hand that was grasping hers was trembling.

“Jamie…?”

“You are…the most remarkable woman I’ve ever met,” he continued, holding her gaze and squeezing her hand tighter. “The first time I saw ye I was…blown away by how big yer heart was. The way ye looked at Faith, the way she smiled at ye…I knew. I knew ye were special. And I didna realize at the time, but ye’d already crawled into this hole in my heart that was made for you. Both of you.”

Claire’s eyes welled up with tears, and it very suddenly hit her exactly what was happening.

“I know the pain ye’ve seen, mo ghraidh, I know the fear and doubt that plagues ye. But I…” He cleared his throat again, and then lowered himself to the ground, on one knee.

A single tear escaped Claire’s eye, trickling down as her breath hitched in her throat.

“I will never, never stop trying to be worthy of ye, Claire. I swear to ye on my life that I will be a good husband, and…a good father. You deserve to be loved beyond measure. And I…I do, mo sorcha. I love you wi’ every ounce of my being.”

Claire was fully sobbing now, and his thumb rubbed over her knuckles as his other hand reached into his pocket.

“So will you, Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp, make me the luckiest man in the world?” He opened the box, revealing the beautiful sparkling ring within. “Will ye marry me, Sassenach?”

Claire could not speak. She nodded vigorously, more ridiculous sobs sputtering from her. Jamie’s strained, concentrated face erupted into the most glorious smile she had ever seen. He leapt to his feet and Claire threw her arms around his neck, and he encircled her waist, lifting her off the ground and spinning her. He exclaimed loudly in Gaelic, laughing joyously, and Claire sputtered her own laughter in between sobs.

He finally put her down, and Claire seized his face in her hands and pressed her lips to his, and he kissed her back passionately. When they pulled apart, Jamie was holding the ring, a small but beautiful rock set within it, and she allowed him to slip it on.

“Oh, love…” she croaked out, and he brought her hand to his lips and fervently kissed the ring.

Something suddenly collided with Claire’s legs, and she cried out a bit in shock. Jamie laughed again as Claire turned around and looked down to see Faith clinging to her legs. Looking up, she could now see that the figures in the distance were Gail and Joe.

“You…” She turned back to Jamie. “You had this all planned, didn’t you?”

Jamie just beamed at her, his eyes glistening with tears. Claire let out a joyous laugh and sank to her knees in front of Faith.

“Hello, lovie….” She wrapped her arms around her and squeezed tight, rocking her gently. “Oh, look at you…” Claire pulled back so she could see Faith, dressed in a beautiful little dress, blue and purple and frilly, white stockings and her perfect little white shoes. When she’d left her with Leina, she was still in her pajamas from the night before, and the plan had seemingly been to leave it that way.

“Look at us, hm?” Claire said, sniffling as she stroked Faith’s hair. “All dressed up? Mummy is going to be married, darling.” Claire’s voice broke, and she laughed through more tears. “See, Faith?” She held up her hand, and Faith immediately began fiddling with the rock. “This means I’m going to be a bride, baby.”

God…I can’t believe it.

A hand suddenly touched her shoulder, and she looked behind her to see that Jamie had crouched down beside her.

“I’ve, ehm, got something for her, too,” he said, his nervousness returning.

Claire’s heart felt fit to burst as her eyes landed on the pink velvet box in his hand.

“With yer permission, Claire…” Jamie took a deep, stuttering breath. “I’d like to ask yer daughter to let me be her father.”

Claire’s chin quivered again, her eyes immediately welling up. She nodded, swallowing thickly, and then fervently kissed Jamie’s cheek before standing up to allow him to proceed.

——

Jamie took a steadying breath before straightening himself out, getting up on his knee the way he’d just done before Claire.

“Hello, wean,” he said. She was fiddling with her skirt and twirling it back and forth, staring intently at its sparkles.

“Faith, a leannan, can ye look at my eyes?” He gently poked her chin with his finger, and she looked up, only to become enraptured by the string of lights above her head.

“D’ye like the lights, Faith?” Jamie flicked her chin with his middle finger, signing light. She giggled and snatched his hand in both of hers. “Ah, ye got me,” he teased, bringing her hands to his lips and kissing them. “I like the lights too, ye ken. Reminds me of our special day in our fairy den. D’ye remember?” She hummed a bit, freeing one of her hands from his grip to flap it, saying fairy

“Aye, that’s right. Very good, Faith.” He took her hand again in hopes of keeping her attention. “I had lots of fun that day, Faith. In fact, I have lots of fun whenever I’m with ye. Because ye’re a very special lass. D’ye ken that?”

She started fiddling with the wee hairs on his hands, giggling to herself.

“I asked yer Mummy a very important question, Faith. I asked her if she wanted to be my wife. And I gave her a special present to celebrate, a very pretty ring. D’ye like the ring?” She nodded absently, still twirling the little hairs. “Well, I’m glad to hear it. Because I’ve got a special present fer you, too.”

That got her attention. She whipped her head up and looked at him, humming and then opening her mouth with an excited groan. Jamie chuckled softly and held the box up to her. She stroked the velvet box with her hands before pressing her cheek into it, likely enjoying its softness.

“Lovely box, is it no’?” he teased, and then gently lifted her chin to pick her head up off the box. “Let’s look inside, aye?”

Before Faith could snatch the box again or get upset, he popped it open.

“See what I’ve got for ye? Look.” He let Faith take it in her hands. “It’s a crown, see? And look what it says. F-A-I-T-H.” He signed each letter to her as he said it. “Faith. That’s yer name, aye?” She hummed, biting her lip with her smile. “Princess Faith, it says.

“D’ye ken that I love ye, Faith?” His voice got tight, his eyes welling up. “I think I fell in love wi’ you just as quickly as I did yer mam.” He tucked a curl behind her ear. He kept his hand there, cupping her cheek, as he signed I love you with his free hand. “See, a leannan? I love you.”

Faith gave a high pitched, squealing giggle, bouncing as she returned the sign. Jamie uttered a breathy laugh, a single tear trickling down his cheek. He heard a tiny sob from above him, and wasn’t surprised to feel Claire’s hand grasp his shoulder.

“Good girl, Faith,” Jamie whispered, rubbing a circle on her cheek with his thumb. “It makes me verra happy that ye love me, too.” He signed happy, smiling widely. “Are ye happy, Faith?” She hummed, jiggling her hands and nodding. “Good, good lass.” He sniffled, blinking away more tears, reaching to his own shoulder to cover Claire’s hand in his.

“I promise to always love ye, and protect ye, and do right by ye, just as I will yer mam.” He gave Claire’s hand a squeeze. “Will ye be my wee princess, Faith?” He poked a finger at the necklace, his fingertip cooling at the touch of the metal. “Will ye let me be yer Da?” He spread his fingers, poking his thumb to his forehead.

Faith hummed and jiggled a bit, but Jamie held the sign patiently. After a few seconds, she giggled, and then copied him exactly, thumb on forehead. Fingers splayed.

Da.

Jamie laughed out loud, fit to burst with joy. He released Claire’s hand to wrap his arms around his wee girl, and Joe and Gail broke into applause. He felt Claire fall to her knees beside him, and his heart cracked open to hear her openly weeping. He folded her into his embrace as well, and she pressed her face into the crook of his neck, fisting his jacket in one hand, caressing Faith’s curls in the other.

“Oh, Jamie…” she blubbered against his skin. “I love you…”

“I love you, too, mo chridhe. Wi’ my whole heart.”

When the three of them finally released each other from their embrace, Jamie freed the necklace from the box and fastened it around Faith’s neck. She rubbed it between her fingers, pulled it up and rubbed it on her cheek, and jiggled it in her hands.

“It’s beautiful, Jamie,” Claire breathed against his neck.

“D’ye think she likes it?”

“She does.”

“D’ye think she…understands?”

They looked at Faith for a moment, grinning from ear to ear as she fiddled with her necklace.

“I think she does.” Claire pressed a kiss into the crook of his neck. “If nothing else, she knows that you love her, Jamie.” Claire met his eye and held up the sign, trembling lips curling into a smile. He repeated the sign, touching their fingers together as he’d often seen mother and daughter do, and their foreheads rested together. “And she loves you, too. She doesn’t say what she doesn’t mean.”

A tear slipped from Jamie’s eye and trickled down Claire’s nose, and they kissed one another sweetly, I love you’s still pressed together.

Gail and Joe suddenly got closer, calling Faith over to them. Jamie broke into a wide grin, watching from the corner of his eye; the last part of the plan was nearly complete.

“Go on, baby,” Gail said. “Go put them on, just like we practiced.”

Faith scampered back to them, bounding and skipping and squealing with glee. Jamie exchanged a look with Claire, who seemed utterly bewildered, and who somehow looked completely and utterly beautiful, even red and swollen from tears of joy.

Jamie ducked his head and allowed Faith to clumsily place the hat atop his head, and then watched as she plopped the one with the bow on Claire. Faith squealed again and jumped up and down, clapping her hands in triumph and then flapping relentlessly.

“What on Earth…?” Claire turned to look at Jamie, and then burst into laughter.

Faith had put Mickey Mouse ears on them both — well, Minnie Mouse for Claire if you accounted for the red bow.

“D’ye no’ find me rather dashing?” he teased, and Claire laughed all the harder. “Here. Look.”

Jamie removed the hat, and Claire did the same, then Jamie held them side by side. Claire exhaled with a breathy laugh, leaning her cheek into Jamie’s shoulder as she read the words that Jamie had had embroidered onto the backs, his and hers respectively:

I asked

I said yes!

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nicole-lynne · 4 years ago

Text

A Different Smile

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Description: After causing you trouble by setting off a dungbomb, you surprise Fred when you instantly tell him apart from his twin. After that, he can't keep his mind off you.

Warnings: None

If you had been smart, you would have finished your potions essay a week ago. You’d even planned time in the library every day to get it done, yet every time you opened your book, the sky outside the window seemed to get more interesting. You hadn’t purposely planned all of your time to match with the gryffindor’s quidditch practice. It had been a coincidence, but how could you make yourself focus on antidotes for the shrinking solution when you could watch your team practice for the house cup. Especially when a few of the guys had taken off their robes from the heat.

Thankfully, you’d managed to hide from Madame Pince when she’d cleared the students out this evening and had the last hour to finish your essay in peace. It was eleven before you finally switched the lamp off and started stacking your books together .

You leaned back and stretched, bringing some life back into your limbs, then flung your bag over your shoulder, resenting that you had volunteered to tutor tomorrow - forcing you to get your paper done tonight. Nothing like spending a Saturday night on homework. There was nothing particularly wrong with doing homework, considering you loved to learn, but you still wanted to relax every now and then.

With a small sigh, you trudged to the front of the library, already imagining your soft bed and the back of your eyelids waiting on you.

Glancing both ways for any signs of adults or felines before you turned the next corner, you slipped down the corridor. How some people snuck around the castle at all hours was beyond you. The thought of getting in trouble was enough to keep you in the common room by curfew for the most part, only straying when it came to course work. And you wouldn’t have even chanced it tonight if it weren’t for Madame Prince's demand that the potion books you were using not be taken out of the library.

You were halfway back to the dorm when the eerie sound of Peeve’s mischievous giggle echoed down the hall. Your heart dropped into your stomach with dread. There was no way you could get past Peeves without alerting Filch, or worse, McGonagall. Whirling around, you backtracked the way you’d come, set on taking the long way when you collided with something hard and were knocked backward onto the hard stone.

“Ow.” You winced at the pain radiating through your backside, still oblivious to your surroundings.

Two hands tucked under your arms and lifted you back to your feet. ““Merlin, I’m sorry! I didn’t expect to meet anyone.”

Brushing the dust off your sweater, you glanced up to meet big brown eyes watching you, a mop of bright red hair on top of their head. Of course a Weasley would be out causing trouble on a Saturday evening.

“Fred, what are you doing here?” you hissed. “It doesn’t matter, we’ve got to go. Peeves is heading straight for us.” You pushed against his chest, ignoring the tensed plaine of muscles, trying to escape from the annoying poltergeist, but his body stayed fixed in place.

“We can’t go that way, I just set off a dungbomb. Filch and Mrs. Norris will probably be right on my tail.” Now you could make out the sound of Filch muttering obscenities and Mrs. Norris yowling.

“Are you kidding me? I can’t get caught, Weasley! I’m not going to waste an evening in detention because you can’t follow the rules.”

“I’m not the only one out of bed after hours, need I remind you. What exactly are

doing out of bed?” He whispered angrily, a scowl on his face. This was the first time you’d spoken to the boy and it clearly wasn’t going well.

“I was in the library working on my potions essay.” You snapped at his accusatory tone.

“Blimey, you were working on homework?! It’s the weekend! That’s what you do in your spare time?”

All you could do was whimper in response, absolute panic setting in. You had never been in trouble and you didn’t want to break that record now. Frowning, he grabbed your hand and started running toward the direction Peeves was in. “What about Peeves-”

“Just trust me, okay.”

You clamped your mouth shut and ran after Fred, having to take two steps just to meet his long stride. The heavy fall of your footsteps against the stone seemed quiet compared to the thumping in your chest the closer you were to Peeves, you’d just have to turn the corner and you may just run right through him. You gulped, preparing to grovel at McGonagall’s feet, when Fred yanked you behind a statue revealing a passage way before slipping in behind you.

Your back thudded against the cool stone wall, Fred leaned his arm against the wall next to your head, the length of his body pressed against yours to hide you in the shadows, on instinct, your hands balled into fists and rested against his chest. Both of you took deep breaths, trying to get your breath back quietly, his breath brushed against your face and the smell of cool mint floated around you.

After a few moments, you started to speak, only to be cut off by Fred’s hand clamping over your mouth.

“Is someone here, my precious?” Filch’s jarring voice cut through the silence right outside the statue. “Maybe a nasty Weasley.”

Your eyes widened at Fred but he ignored your stare. The only recognition that he felt your gaze was his jaw clenching. Oh god, you were about to be caught and even worse, you’d been hiding with a Weasley twin. Maybe Filch would tell McGonagall that you set off the dungbomb. It’d be on your permanent record. You’d have detention for months.

“We’ll get them this time.” His voice was high-pitched, the sound of joy ringing out, “come out, little Weasley. I’ll only string you up by your toes in the courtyard.”

You gulped, your hands tightened on Fred’s shirt at the sound of Filch’s steps getting closer and closer. You were positive that he was only a step away from entering the hidden passage.

A crash down the hall distracted you from your thoughts.

Outside the statue, Filch squealed like a pig, “Peeves! You rotten scum. I’ll catch you this time.” And then the sound of his footsteps running down the corridor until they disappeared.

Fred held eye contact with you and you could see the wheels turning in his mind. You’d never realized how handsome he was. Being this close to him, you could see the deepness of his chocolate brown eyes had swirls of caramel in them, the way his jaw kept clenching with tension, the freckles speckled against his nose. You swallowed thickly, forcing yourself to think about anything other than the feeling of Fred’s heartbeat beneath your hands, how soft his lips looked, or how easy it would be to wrap your arms around his neck.

It had been eerily silent for a few minutes when you mumbled, “Fred,” your mouth still covered by his hand. Like he’d just remembered he was still holding you, he shook his head and dropped his hand back to his side.

“Yeah?” He whispered.

“Your hand smells like a dungbomb.”

At this, Fred let out a breathy chuckle. “Right, that can happen to a lad now and again.”

“You might want to see a healer if it occurs more than three times a week.” You teased before glancing to the exit, missing the curious look Fred gave you. “Do you think it’s safe now? I really don’t want Mrs. Norris or Filch to come back.”

“That sounded like a suit of armor that Peeves dropped, Filch will be distracted by that for hours. We should be fine to get back to the dorms. Which house are you in?”

A frown flashed on your face before you recovered. “Um, Gryffindor.”

He cocked his head in surprise. You, however, weren’t surprised that he didn’t know you even if you knew exactly who he was. He was a year older than you, half of the popular duo and champion beater for the quidditch team, and you mostly stuck to yourself. It wasn’t often that someone other than the professors noticed you.

Giving him a loose shrug, you side-stepped to let him pass. You followed Fred as he slipped out from the statue and started leading you back to Gryffindor. You looked around to find you were still a few floors away to safety. It was silent between you two, your ears sharp for any sound of footsteps that may be coming to find you.

“Can I ask you a question?” Fred broke the silence. You peeked at him from the corner of your eye and nodded. “How did you know I was Fred?”

A smile twitched at the corner of your lip. “Isn’t it obvious? You look completely different than George.”

He gapped at you, “you don’t think we look alike?”

“No. Not at all.” Your face was blank but the longer he stared, the harder it was to keep in your smile.

Fred narrowed his eyes, “you’re taking the piss out of me, aren’t you?”

A giggle bubbled out of you and you couldn’t hold it back. “Of course you look alike, dork, you’re identical twins.”

“Well you’re very convincing. I almost doubted our resemblance for a minute.” He snorted, running his hand through his messy hair.

“Sorry, you just made it way too easy.” You said, laughing a little more until it fell silent again.

“So how’d you know?”

“You have different smiles, yours turns down just a bit at the corner like you have a secret. Your eyes are darker than his. George has a tiny bump on his nose. Both of you speak differently.” You shut your mouth quickly, realizing how creepy that could sound. “That sounded way more weird than I’d intended. It’s not like I’ve noticed you in particular or anything, you just tend to notice things when you’re by yourself. Which I am a lot. Not because I can’t make friends, it’s just that I like to read a lot and I don’t want to get bad grades or fail so I go to the library most days. But you and George can get pretty loud sometimes in the common room so I can’t help from hearing...”

He’d been unusually quiet since you started talking and you didn’t want to wait around for him to call you a freak. There was a breath of relief that you could stop rambling as you approached the Fat Lady. Fred gave her the password and she gave you a stern glare before reluctantly swinging open.

Scrambling through the painting, you dashed toward the stairs, ready to put this whole night to rest.

“Wait!”

Your foot hovered over the third step as Fred called after you. Grudgingly, you shifted to face him, still shorter than him on the second step.

“Yes, Fred?”

“I’m sorry if I caused you any trouble tonight...uh, actually, I don’t think I caught your name.”

You pursed your lips. “It’s alright, I shouldn’t have been out after hours anyways. Thanks for getting me back safely though. Besides, it was worth it to hear Mrs. Norris screeching like she’d been dunked in a bathtub.” Fred smiled at that. Turning back around, you kept walking to your dorm.

“Hey, you still didn’t tell me your name.”

Without stopping, you called over your shoulder, “Goodnight, Weasley.”

Why bother? By morning he’ll have forgotten the whole incident and be back to pulling pranks with George and Lee Jordan.

Fred stood frozen at the bottom of the stairs in shock.

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

Two weeks had passed in a blur with exams looming over the school like the plague. Students everywhere were starting to freak out, the stench of panic settling in. Last Wednesday, Lucy Slitworm had passed out in Charms as Professor Flitwick had started the review of subjects. When she came too, she’d burst into tears and had to be sent to the nurse. Luckily, you’d managed to avoid that level of stress by practically living in the library.

You’d studied in the common room a few times, but the sound of Ron and Harry moaning that Hermione wasn’t helping them was more distracting than anything. You’d also found your eyes straying over to a certain red-head more than your books so you’d reluctantly rearranged your schedule to accommodate the walk to the library.

It was no shock that Fred had ignored your presence since that evening, although it did sting a bit to know that you had made that little of an impression on him when he’d made such an imprint on your mind.

More often than you’d like now, you found your mind wandering to Fred. You kept replaying the feeling of his hand in yours, of his breath on your skin, the curious look he’d given you when you’d teased him, or worse, the way it had felt so right with his body against yours.

Obviously, you’d noticed him before that night. It was hard not to when he and his brother were shouting over a game of exploding snap, or when he was teasing Ron for something, or even when he was flirting with the girls in the common room. After that night, you couldn’t help searching for the boy when you walked into the Great Hall, or wonder what prank he might be pulling.

The truth was, you’d missed every time he looked at you. You missed how he would scan any room he walked into, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. You missed when he’d asked George about you the very next morning and the surprise on his face when George actually knew your name. How thick headed could he have been to ignore you all these years?

Of course he hadn’t told George the story when he’d prodded. It was something that he’d wanted to keep to himself, the memory of that terrified look on your face at the possibility of getting in trouble, you leaning against the wall in front of him, the feeling of your soft breath on his chest.

From where he sat, it seemed like you hadn’t spared him one thought or look and it was killing him. How were you so utterly unphased by what had happened? That night had been a wakeup call for him, that for six years, he had missed out on getting to know this beautiful, playful, intelligent girl. Yet you hadn’t even wanted to tell him your name, you’d raced up the stairs to get away from him - everything pointed to the fact that you just didn’t seem interested in him. So why had you known who he was, down to the shape of his smile?

He’d racked his brain for a way to talk to you, something that didn’t make him seem desperate or ridiculous, but the days kept passing and he still hadn’t said one word to you. Every time he had taken a step in your direction or started to pass you a note in the common room, this overwhelming feeling of fear had stopped him. He’d never felt a fear like this. He was a Weasley for god sakes, nothing scared him or stopped him from taking a leap.

Except you.

On Saturday morning, a week after the incident, he finally relented that he might have to ask his twin for help. Most likely, George would have a plan immediately and he’d be kicking his own butt for not asking sooner.

He explained the whole situation to George, leaving out the detail of how your body felt so warm or that you fit perfectly against him. Then he’d spent a good twenty minutes chasing George around while George teased him mercilessly. After he’d gotten out a few rounds of “sitting in a tree”, Fred whalloped him on the head and they’d calmed down.

“Okay, what’s so special about this bird, Freddie? You’ve never had trouble talking to girls before.” George asked, settling down in his chair.

Fred stared out the window for a while before answering. “She knew who I was. Not just in the way that she knew that I was one of the twins. Not in the way that she had to really think about it. She took one look at me and knew that I was Fred.” George raised an eyebrow at this. “We don’t get that very often, never in fact. Bloody hell, even mum can’t tell us apart on a good day. People look at us and see what they want - two halves of a whole. I don’t mind, usually, I really don't. But something about her seeing me for me-”

“It makes you feel special. I get it.” George patted Fred’s knee once. “Let’s do some recon and figure out how to win you your girl.”

As soon as Harry came down from the dorm, George had asked to borrow back the Marauders map for a while, then they set off for Hogsmead to scheme.

For the next week, outside of Fred’s constant planning, George took his own liberties by running into you as often as possible. He was determined to see if you could really tell the twins apart or if it had been a coincidence.

“There you are! How have you been?” He’d asked you in some variation or another.

Never had George or Fred willingly said hello to you, and now it was becoming a daily occurrence. Each time, you’d looked at him with equal parts confusion and amusement. “I’m fine, George, and how are you?”

And each time, he’d give you an offended look and reply, “I’m not George, I’m Fred. Thought you were supposed to know me.”

“No, you’re George. Just as you were George yesterday and the day before.” You’d reply, a little more annoyed each time you had to say it. George would shrug and then turn tail in the other direction.

On Friday morning, George slipped into the seat next to you in the Great Hall. Your spoon was midair, full of oatmeal, when you stopped to look up at him. You raised an eyebrow when you saw he was smiling at you.

“Uh, good morning, George.”

His smile faded, a quizzical expression on his face, “you really can tell the difference between us, interesting.” Then he turned to get up, pausing when you grabbed his wrist and tugged him back down, a bit roughly.

“You don’t get to leave that easily. George, I’ve known you for six years. I know that you’re George. And I know that that was Fred up in the common room arguing with Ron about skiving snackboxes. I know that you’ve been the one saying hello to me every day, not Fred. The only thing I can’t figure out is why you’re trying to confuse me, especially when it’s clear it’s not going to work.

George didn’t speak, a grin spreading across his face the longer you talked. When you were done, you let out a small sigh and went back to your oatmeal, positive that he would get up and leave. He was quiet for a few more seconds before he snickered.

“Man, you really can talk once you get started, huh?” He stood up swiftly and leaned back over your shoulder. “See ya around, troublemaker.” Then he was gone before you could blink.

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

The next day, you were still in the library cramming for the start of your exams on Monday. You’d begged Madame Pince for extra time and cushioned it with three weeks of volunteering to reshelf books for her to give you thirty additional minutes after closing.

You’d tried to focus on your workbooks but your mind kept wandering back to the strange interactions from George. He’d never really spoke to you before unless it was necessary, and what really confused you, was that Fred had seemed completely unaffected. It seemed that things had gone back to normal, you were invisible to Fred Weasley.

All too quickly, your extra time disappeared, and you were no further than you were when you started. The moment the clock hit thirty minutes past, Madame Pince was ushering you out of the library and slamming the doors behind you.

You rolled your eyes and continued on your way to the common room. As you rounded the corner, the stench of a dungbomb wafted to your nose and you instantly cringed. That was the scent of trouble that you wanted no part of. Spinning on a heel, you headed for the next closest route. Even though you’d had permission from Madam Pince to stay out late, Filch wasn’t one to care for acceptions.

You’d been walking for five minutes when the familiar smell of another dungbomb surrounded you. You stopped dead in your tracks, a frown growing on your face. The universe had to be playing some kind of cosmic joke on you.

With a huff, you turned down another hallway with the plan to go through a few of the classrooms that could get you to the other side of the castle. It wasn’t the most efficient but it would work in a pinch.

Tiptoeing out of the charms classroom, you rounded the corner and almost smacked into the fog of a dungbomb.

“You’ve got to be freakin kidding me?” You murmured angrily.

The sounds of Filch’s voice floated from behind you and your stomach jumped to your throat. You’d tried so hard for so long to avoid trouble and now it felt like it was following you. Letting out a terrified groan, you spun around and sprinted down the closest hallway, regardless of if it would get you back to the common room. The voices were getting closer and you were starting to really panic.

You felt like you were stuck in one of those bad dreams where you were running but you weren’t getting any farther. Filch’s voice was looming over you and you still had half the length of the hall to go.

Suddenly, a hand reached out and snagged you by the arm, dragging you behind the statue of the one-eyed witch. You struggled in the arms of your assailant, kicking and flailing to get away, then you opened your mouth to screech but a hand was covering your mouth quickly.

“Bloody hell, stop worming around, woman. You want him to catch us?” A voice whispered in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. You knew that voice. Instantly, you relaxed against his chest and his hand dropped from your mouth to your collarbone. Closing your eyes, you tried to ignore how good he smelled and how natural it felt to be in his arms.

The puffs of Filch’s ragged breathing echoed into the passage and you instinctively pushed closer to Fred, his arms tightening around you as he moved you backwards deeper into the tunnel.

It felt like deja vu to be in this situation with Fred as you were waiting for Filch to discover you both at the scene of a crime. Maybe this was the only way you’d get to spend any time with him - when he was causing trouble and you were caught in the crossfire.

Your heart was racing, waiting for Filch or Mrs. Norris to leap around and shout ‘GOTCHA!’ but it never came. Instead, you heard a growl of frustration and Filch yell, “another one?! I’ll catch the little brat setting these off!” and then his shouts slowly fading.

A full minute passed before you let out the shaky breath you’d been holding. Fred’s arm was still wrapped around you, his thumb rubbing gently across the bare skin of your neck, and his chin was resting on the top of your head. Every time he took a breath, his chest pushed against your back and you relished in the feeling.

Abruptly, the realization of what just happened sunk in. Whirling around, you pushed Fred’s chest, his eyes bulging out with surprise at the sudden movement. “You scared me, Fred Weasley!”

“What, you wanted me to just let you get caught?” He snapped in astonishment.

“You could have at least warned me before snatching me mid-stride.”

“What would you have preferred? I stand at the entrance of a

passageway with a giant white flag. Might have given us away!”

“Well, why do you have to go around causing trouble in the first place? It’s absolutely ridiculous. I was doing just fine without you setting off four dungbombs around the castle.”

“Don’t yell at me, woman! I had to do something to get your attention.” Fred said a little harshly.

You stared at him, your brain struggling to comprehend what he’d said. “Wait, what?”

Fred scuffed his foot on the ground, “Nothing, just forget it. This whole thing was stupid.”

You stepped forward and put a hand on his bicep, “no, tell me.”

Fred sighed and watched you before stepping back into your space, towering over you so that you had to tilt your head to look at him. “I said, I had to do something to get your attention.”

“So you set off dungbombs so that I would get in trouble?” You whispered nervously.

“No, I had George set off dungbombs so that I could

you from getting in trouble.” His voice faded away at the end.

“And why would you want to do that?”

“I don’t know...” Fred tried to pull away from you but you tightened your hold so he wouldn’t move, “I just thought if I could save you from being in trouble again, that you would talk to me again.”

“Why didn’t you just talk to me then?”

Fred didn’t respond at first, instead, he tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear. Finally, he said, “Because you ran away from me last time we talked. You didn’t even want to tell me your name. I just figured you wouldn’t want to speak to me. And then you haven’t even looked at me since that night.”

Your gaze fell to your shoes, “I’m sorry, Fred. I only ran away because I was nervous and...”

“And?” He tilted your chin back up so he could see your face, his gaze lingering on your lips.

“And I felt like you wouldn’t care who I was. You didn’t even know I was in Gryffindor until two weeks ago so what would be so different about now.”

“Are you crazy? I haven’t been able to get you out of my head. It’s been driving George nuts, how much I’ve been talking about you.”

Butterflies erupted in your stomach at his words. “Why me? You never noticed me before.”

Fred leaned closer to you, making your head spin with his closeness. “I’m not afraid to admit I was thick-headed. I’ve never had to look outside of my own world and that caused me to look over certain people. But in my whole life, I’ve never had someone recognize me as an individual. You knew, in an instant, who I was, and even tonight, you knew it was me just by my voice. I guess what I’m saying is, you amaze me. And I regret not taking the time to get to know you sooner.”

Your jaw dropped slightly at the confession, making Fred grin down at you. Not giving yourself the opportunity to second guess, you lifted up on your tiptoes and pressed your lips against his. Fred’s free arm snaked around your waist and pulled you tight against his body as he deepened the kiss.

Sooner than you wanted, he pulled away with a huge smile on his face. Softly, he placed small kisses on your nose and your cheeks, making you giggle at the sensation, before he rested his forehead against yours. You couldn’t help smiling the longer you looked into his eyes.

“You’re wrong, by the way.” You said in a low voice, not wanting to break the moment. Fred’s brow furrowed in confusion at your statement. “I’ve looked your way every single day and I was hoping that you would talk to me. Instead, I had George harassing me every time I turned around.”

Fred snorted, “he’s a bloody idiot. He didn’t think you could really tell us apart so he wanted to test you.”

“I assumed it was something like that, it was just very annoying.”

“He still thinks it’s a trick but he can’t figure out how you’re doing it.” Fred chuckled.

Looping your arms around Fred’s neck, you drew him in closer. “The trick is that I know who I’m attracted to and that person is you.” You said, pecking his lips once more.

“That, and we look nothing alike, right?” Fred teased, making you laugh again.

“Exactly, polar opposites.” You joked back easily.

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #george weasley #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fanfic #hogwarts #dungbombs #pranking #hp #harry potter

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pockou · 4 years ago

Text

skin ⤻ chpt. one

— pairings: jean kirschtein x fem bodied nb!reader

— warnings: none for now

— summary: after reuniting with your childhood bestfriend, jean and a long heated night together you establish a friends with benefits relationship. what could go wrong?

— modern au

— wc: 2.6k

— a/n: sorry nothing really happened, this is really just me setting things up !

⤺ skin masterlist

After a long and stressful day with work, you finally arrived home. The first thing that crossed your mind was letting your mother know you’d be skipping out on brunch with her and some old friends the next afternoon so you could catch up on some much needed sleep. You removed your shoes and wiped the small bit of sweat which was accumulating on your forehead, outside felt like a heatwave being it was nearing the peak of summer, work has been pretty busy lately with all the moms coming in and demanding for you to restock the pool noodles — which obviously you had no control over just being a mere cashier. You never knew how stressful it could be just standing behind a counter all day, which you didn’t take into account is the long and blistering walk home. Maybe a summer job wasn’t the best choice?

“Oh hey Mom!” Your mom was just passing by with a laundry basket in hand, probably heading to clean clothes for tomorrow.

“Hi Y/N, how was work?”

“Long.” You filled a cup of cold apple juice up before turning back over to her, “By the way, I can’t go with you and dad to brunch tomorrow. I’m pooped and need some extra sleep.”

“Y/N, you can’t skip out, I understand you’re tired but an old friend who you’ll probably be happy to see is going to be there, and i’ll make sure you don’t miss him, he’s rarely in town anymore.”

“He?” You tried to think of all the guys who’ve came into your life which your parents took a liking to, there were a few but not any you really would want to see.

“Yes, he. Now get showered you smell like clorax and sweat!”

“Jeez Mom way to put it lightly!” You both laughed together, these moments definitely made you glad you decided to move back for the summer and stay off of campus. You picked up your phone after it buzzed and saw an incoming follow request from “Jean Kirschtein” the name rang a bell but ultimately you chose to ignore it and decline. You decided to fix the obvious awful scent which was coming from you and headed to shower.

You looked at the array of bath soaps, body scrubs and shampoos you and your mom shared, you picked up the ‘vanilla mint’ scent which always brought comfort to you for some odd reason, it just has for as long as you could remember. After massaging your head with shampoo and conditioner you shaved your legs until you were satisfied with the outcome and jumped out of the shower. Noticing the time after you went to pause your music you realized just how long you took, it was already past seven pm and your dad should be home, hopefully with dinner. Before leaving, you moisturized your legs and added an acne serum to your face, gently patting it into your cheeks and forehead. You just threw on some boxer-like shorts and one of your dads old band tees and peeked into the kitchen.

“Hey darling.”

“Hey Dad, did you pick up dinner?” You leaned over the counter giggling at your mothers antics, being she was behind your father mocking him.

“Yes I did, burritos good? There’s this new joint by the office.”

“Sick, thanks dad! I’ll set the table, love you.” You pecked his cheek before grabbing plates and cups for the three of you, you hadn’t remembered the last time you ate, it probably was around eleven when you had your lunch breaks. Which you believed to be a bit too early for lunch. You smiled widely at both of your parents as they sat down at the table.

“What do you guys want to drink? I’ll go get somethin’ for us all.”

“I’ll just have a water pumpkin.” You took your dads cup and gave him a thumbs up then looked to your mother.

“I still have my protein shake i’ll be fine!”

“Mkay!” You took yours and your dads cups and filled them about halfway with water, adding a bit of lemon and ice to yours, “Dad do ya want ice?”

“Sure, thank you. Now hurry up your foods getting cold!” You shuffled back over to the table handing your dad his iced water and flashing him a shiny smile.

“Thanks again!” After that you dug into your dinner and the whole meal was filled with your dad telling you and your mom about people calling in asking for help with computers and you telling them about annoying people you had to deal with and, of course your mom complaining about Amy from her yoga class.

By the time you all died down and your mom mentioned you should all get some sleep so you’d all be in good moods for brunch in the morning, inevitably you gave up in trying to skip out due to your moms persistence to join them. You walked into your room to be greeted by the warmth and comfort it always gave off to you, you grabbed your phone and plopped onto your bed ready to finally wind down and relax after such a long day. Your eyes got heavy and you felts drowsy before you gave in and fell into a deep sleep. You dreamed of the same boy you had been for a while, he was cute, really cute and he always brought comfort to you. This dream always took place in a pre-k classroom, playing will blocks and legos and the smell of popcorn and juice in the air. He always came up with a smile on his face which was missing one of his front teeth already, some spaghetti sauce around his mouth and asking if you wanted to play tag. But everytime before you said yes, you always woke up and you were no longer in a carefree mindset like a child and that boy was never there all that was there was a loud ‘beep beep beep’ sound ringing in your ears which never failed to wake you up right at ten thirty am.

This time your mom was also in your room, rummaging throughout your dresser drawers. She was humming the same song she used to sing you to sleep with which always made you smile. You whined as you sat up stretching.

“Morning honey, can you wear this today?” She had just a white tee and a jean shorts pretty simple and nice to wear in the summer.

“Sure that’s fine, how much time do I have?”

“Around an hour or so, make sure you hurry please I don’t wanna be late.”

“Mkay, by the way when do I getta know who this wonderboy is?”

“When you see him you’ll know, trust me. Now get ready!”

She walked out of your room to let you get dressed, after putting on the outfit she chose you just found some random sandals to wear and fixed your hair a bit, you still had some time to spare so you just chilled on the couch playing a random cooking game. Your mom came out to show herself off and she did her cheesy little jazz hands.

“You look beautiful Momma.”

“Thank you, Y/N, you look great aswell.” You both looked in the kitchen to see your dad eating something, “We are literally going to brunch why in the world are you eating?” She obviously wasn’t mad but she shook her hand at your dad which made you both chuckle. They both had been together since they were in highschool and seemed to have an unbreakable bond. That was something you’ve always wanted with another person, just to be able to find comfort in another so easily, and trust them no matter what. And just the very way they looked at eachother and the loving gaze they shared, it was everything, they were soulmates and all you wanted was to find something like that. Your special person.

“Well, we should get going, the car drive is a bit long id say.” You lifted yourself up from the couch and followed them, still looking down at your game. You plopped into the car once again, and just gazed out the window.

“Where are we goin’ again?”

“Just a pancake house, nothing too special y’know?”

“Mkay, thanks Mom.” You looked back down at your phone to see that ‘Jean’ guy requesting you again, you found it kinda weird but you decided to look at his account. He was attractive. No he was fucking hot, he had a shiny ash blonde mullet, which some of it was a darker shade, somewhat brown. His hair had a slight wave at the ends adding just a bit of volume to it. You scrolled a little bit more to find out he had a chihuahua and a shitzu. He was also doing good in school and — you double tapped. You mentally cursed at yourself, you just liked a post from not too long ago but still he’d now know you’re looking at his account. Out of guilt you let him follow you, you had to now atleast. You just turned off your phone and flipped it over, ignoring what just happened.

“You alright? You look sick.” You looked up to your mom who was looking at you from the front seat, “If its about ‘wonderboy’ don’t be too scared you two used to be so close, you’ll click instantly!”

“Mkay Mom, and I’m fine.” You acted as if you totally didn’t just stalk a hot guy on Instagram, gawk over him then like one of his posts from a few weeks back. You were totally fine, what else could happen. You were incredibly tempted to go look at his page again, his arms always seemed to fill his sleeves from what you saw and, he had a stubble which was just a shade darker than his hair. He dressed incredibly well and looked like he smelled like fancy cologne. You checked your phone and it already had been thirty minutes.

“Mom when’ll we get there?”

“It’s just done the road, relax honey.” You sighed in relief, your stomach had been churning the past few minutes and you needed out of that humid car. Once you parked and looked at the time, it was half past eleven, the exact time of your reservation.

“Alright, we’re at a patio table so you two walk their i’ll go talk with the bouncer to see if the others are here.” Your dad patted your head before walking off to check in, you followed behind your mom. With your hands in your pocket you guys turned the corner and a certain someone caught your eye, the guy from instagram, Jean was it? He was sitting in the patio, her hair was thrown into a ponytail and a chocolate brown like some of Jeans hair, she was cute and obviously his mother.

“Oh my goodness, Kirschtein is that you?!” Your eyes widened, these were the people you were joining for brunch. “Jean! You’ve grown so much, you look very handsome now.”

“Thank you ma’am, Y/N is that you?” He smiled widely before stepping closer to you and embracing you in a bear hug, you let out a small defeated laugh before hugging him back, “How’ve you been? How long has it been?”

“Since preschool.” Your gazes went to his mom who stole you from Jean and hugged you even tighter. You felt the life being squeezed out of your ribs, even though you barely remembered these hugs. And the scent you’ve always loved, both Jean and his mom smelled like vanilla and mint, it was pretty ironic. You all took a seat waiting for your dad to come back before you ordered anything. Jean was seated across from you, his legs were a bit on your end of the table but you just ignored it, everything seemed so awkward yet comfortable all at the same time. Jeans presence was just comforting and made you feel warm and whenever he talked to you and kept eye contact? That made you wanna scream, you two hadn’t seen eachother for years but instantly clicked.

Once your Dad came back, he had five menus in hand and gave them all out. You all talked amongst yourselves about what you’ll get to eat, and what you’ll be getting to drink, ultimately you settled on a coffee, so did your Dad. While Jeans mom and your Mom giggled about some drink they used to always share before ordering two of them, Jean got a decaf. It seemed plain but you weren’t one to talk. You had been engulfed in whatever it was you were doing on your phone until Jean kicked you lightly and gestured to his own phone. You clicked on instagram and saw he had messaged you there.

“Hey, so are we gonna talk abt you stalking me orr?”

“No, we’re not Jean, please just forget abt it.”

After that your drinks had finally came, now you all had to order you got just some pancakes, nothing special. Jean got an omelette while his and your Mom shared french toast and your Dad got waffles. The conversation over brunch went well, Jean shared about what he was studying in during the last school year, as did you. Your familys just caught up with what had been going on, Jean had adopted two dogs over the past year — which you already knew, he was doing good in school and his studies. You just sat there kind of awkwardly being just an hour or two before you were stalking him and thinking about how hot he was, you were snapped back into reality when his Mom asked you something.

“Have you been with anybody recently?”

“Mom! You can’t just ask her that, we haven’t seen her in years..” Jean whipped his head to the side looking at his Mom.

“No Jean it’s fine, but I haven’t.”

“Oh really? You’re so pretty? I find that hard to believe!” You smiled at her, she was obviously trying to be nice. You all continued eating, Jean paying close attention to his phone.

“Well Jean, have you seen anyone recently?”

“Mom!! Seriously?” You were confused about what your moms were trying to pull off, asking random questions back to back on the same subject.

“Y/N it’s fine. And No Mrs. L/N, I actually haven’t.” Jean stretched backwards, his arm muscles slightly flexing while he did so.

“Hmmm, interesting.. Well, finish up everyone.” You had already finished eating so all you had to do was wait for everyone else to finish. You played that same dumb cooking game for what felt like an eternity your Mom finally tapped your shoulder to get your attention.

“We should be heading out, by the way you two are invited for dinner tomorrow, feel free to come by anytime!” You got up with your mom, waving a goodbye to Jean and his mother. Now you had to endure a car ride most likely of your mother blabbing on about how you should get with Jean, that was something you didn’t wanna think or talk about.

You napped in the car for most of the ride until your phone started to buzz in your pocket, which woke you up from your dazed state. You checked the notification to see Jean had sent you a message.

“Y’know you got pretty hot right?”

“What? Jean thats random.”

“Fuck I mean that in the most respectful way possible.”

“Mkay.” You rolled your eyes, although you could say the same about him you were fond of his boldness but that was definitely a worry for another day. All you were worried about was what you’ll be doing now with him coming over again. Were you going to make a move in the same way he did or ignore his antics completely? And that was the last thought you had before falling asleep again.

#jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschtein #jean kirstein #jean kirsten x reader #aot x reader #aot #snk x reader #snk #skin. ➷

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talesofstyles · 4 years ago

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The Law of Attraction

buckle up my little ballsacks you’re in for a treat. this is pure lawyer harry filth. honestly i’ve got no excuse.

massive massive thank you to @smokeinherperfume for letting me ramble about lawyer harry 24/7 and @for-fucks-sake-h for allllll the knife emojis FGHSHSGSGH ILY 🥺💛

p.s. all of my fics about lawyer harry are standalones so you don’t have to read them in order. but just fyi technically this one happens after Quid Pro Quo. hope you like it! xx

An orgasm crashes through YN’s body, causing her back to arch in her chair and her fingers to tug hard at the hair of the man who’s working his tongue between her legs. It’s half three on a Wednesday, and instead of skimming through stacks of her clients’ contracts trying to find loopholes or go through the first set of Interrogatories once again before she sends it to the opposing counsel later today; she’s got her former-nemesis-turned-best-friend kneeling before her chair, her skirt hiked up around her waist and her knickers haphazardly pulled to the side. She lets out a groan, which only eggs him on, and he lashes his tongue against her even harder.

“Enough,” she mutters weakly, her voice barely audible and she’s not even sure if he even heard it. She pushes his head away from her, but the stubborn sod only swats her hands away while growling and doubles up on his efforts. She can feel him shaking his head as he licks and sucks away, slipping his finger deep inside her the second she closes her eyes and proceeds to bring her to another shattering orgasm in just under two minutes.

She slaps her hand over her mouth as she reaches her high again, and Harry looks at her with a satisfied smile, before licking his shiny wet lips without breaking eye contact. The sight alone is almost enough to make her want to shove his head back to where it was half a minute ago. “Feel better?”

“Mhm,” she hums happily and Harry’s lips quirk into a gentle smirk. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure,” he replies as he stands up, before leaning over to button their lips together in a quick kiss.

“I think the pleasure’s all mine, but let’s rectify that,” she mutters as she pulls away. “What do you want? You tell me and I’ll give it to you. Do you want me to get you off slowly or do you want to fuck my mouth?”

“Fuck,” he groans in frustration. “You’re gonna kill me here. I’ve got a deposition in- shit, two minutes. I’ve got to go now. Catch ya later doll.”

She shakes her head, chuckling as she watches him rushing out of her office. “Later, shithead.”

Isn’t it just funny how the universe works sometimes? Six months ago they couldn’t even be in the same room without having a scream-whisper match, but here they are half a year later, happily handing each other orgasms like sweets on Halloween. Harry didn’t even know exactly what was bothering her today. He just sensed that she was in a real mood when he swung by her office, so instead of splitting a packet of KitKats right on the dot at three o’clock like usual, he closed the door and switched on the panel by the door so the transparent glass wall turned translucent to give them privacy, and then he went down on her without saying another word.

The perks of being friends instead of foes with Harry is that she gets to find out that Harry’s oral skills are not limited to advocacy and sarcasm. And not to mention that he’s a very generous man. Sure, it’s not a trait particularly needed in a best friend and colleague, but fuck if that’s not something that is much appreciated. At first, obviously it wasn’t easy for YN to hang the white flag above her head. Her ego was badly bruised when the firm made Harry Senior Partner instead of her in the beginning of the year, making her feel that all the long hours and the all-nighters she’d pulled were all for nothing. She felt like she gave up her social life for nothing, basically put her life on hold for nothing and gave her all to her firm for nothing. She felt unappreciated, and the easiest target to channel all her anger and frustration was Harry. Because come on, who else was she supposed to be mad at? Her boss? It’d be like being mad at Gandhi.

It definitely got much easier when she finally let the resentment go, the fact that he was the one being promoted. Especially knowing well the reason was only because he came from a bigger law firm, and that he came bearing gifts—the gifts being five huge clients from his old firm—when he came into her firm earlier this year. She’s accepted the fact that him being promoted instead of her doesn’t mean that she’s not a damn good lawyer. Hell, she’s got a hundred percent win record to prove that. It was easier to hate him when she didn’t know him, but as they began working on cases together and she got the chance to get to know him more, she knew he deserved it.

If you ask YN, she’d most likely tell you that having a work husband surely beats having an enemy in the office. She loves having Harry as her best friend, her most trusted legal confidant when she needs to strategise on a case and well, as an occasional lover on a bad day. He is her number one ally and advisor, the person she can laugh with and be stressed with, have politically incorrect conversations with, and give her bone-deep honest opinions to. He supports her and helps her with her cases—not that she needs help because again, she’s one hell of a lawyer, but it’s surely nice to have an extra brain in the case sometimes.

Fuck, she really does owe Harry a good one tonight for giving her a nice distraction.

A ding sound from her phone brings her back to reality. She darts her eyes at her phone for a second, and she lets out a heavy sigh when she reads the name on the screen. It’s a text to confirm the dinner meeting tonight at The Berkeley, definitely one that she can’t avoid since he’s a huge client, but more importantly, one that she dreads to meet.

You see, there’s a large part of life that we call normalcy. Eat, sleep, take a shower. Wearing underwear inside our clothes instead of outside like Batman and Superman. The sun rises in the east and sets in the west. Most people drink coffee in the morning. Thirty minutes of cardio three times a week.

As pathetic as this may sound, pining for Luke, that said client who also happens to be her ex-boyfriend has been YN’s normalcy for the past two years. Luckily, his company is her client and not the man himself so she got away with keeping contact to a bare minimum. Meeting him only about two to three times a year and only when it’s absolutely necessary and cannot be handled by his General Counsel. But apparently, his step-father decided to retire and pass his hotel business to him—honestly, as if he’s not bloody minted already—and he needs her now more than ever because even though he knows his way around the business world, this whole thing is a new territory for him.

This is the second time in a week that he’s arranged a meeting and only God knows how many more meetings with him she could take. Because, as always, his presence means the absence of her sanity. And she hates it.

Welcome to YN’s fucked up life.

***

“I still don’t know why you want me to go with you,” Harry says, turning to look at her when they stop at a red light. Even though it’s dark outside, the neon-blue lights from the interior electronics cast the angles of his face handsomely.

He’s driving both himself and YN to The Berkeley where they’ll be meeting Luke for a dinner meeting to discuss his new business and his plan to merge with another hotel group. Which is an absolutely terrible idea and YN plans to talk him out of it tonight. It’s probably easier said than done though, because she knows Luke and she’s definitely familiar with how stubborn he can be.

There are a lot of things about Luke that she still remembers. He pretends to hate those mini chocolate muffins but he actually loves them. He drinks his coffee at six thirty sharp every morning, yes, even on the weekends. He loves jogging and sometimes he wishes he’s an athlete so that he can get paid just to run and play football all day long. Even though he’s rich as sin—and God, fit as fuck too—he’s humble and definitely not flashy, so if you see him without his suits, you’d probably never guess that he doesn’t actually need to work a day in his life because he comes from old money. But Luke is different. He never touched his trust fund and he was determined to create his own business from scratch.

He’d just started his business around the same time YN started working in her firm as an associate, so she saw it right before her eyes how hard he worked during those first few years as he nurtured his business. His company was one of the first clients that she’d been assigned to work on, and when she got promoted to Junior Partner, her mentor gave her The White Company as her first official client. The timing couldn’t be more brilliant since she and Luke just broke up two days prior, but she knew there was no way she could turn down such a big business.

Fuck, she’s thinking about him again. She immediately makes a mental note in her head to ask Harry for an extra orgasm tonight to keep him out of her mind. But now she can’t help snickering at the thought because she makes it sounds as if she’s asking for extra ketchup.

“Cat got your tongue?” He asks and she turns to look at him. He gives her a tiny smirk before his eyes get back on the road, but he reaches his hand out to her bare knee to give her a squeeze. “Still haven’t answered me, doll.”

“Sorry- what did you ask?”

“Why did you want me to go with you?” He asks again. “He wants to merge, right? That’s totally your thing. You don’t need me.”

“You helped me with his crisis a few months ago,” she reminds him. “Just thought we could do his business together again. He’ll be happy he’s getting two partners, the firm will be happy because they can charge double. It’s a win-win, really.”

“Bollocks that,” Harry laughs. “Worst bullshit I’ve ever heard.”

“That’s all, honest,” she feigns innocence.

“Honey, I didn’t go through law school for nothing, did I?” He replies without moving his head, keeping his eyes on the road. “You’re using me as a human condom, aren’t you?”

“What the hell does that even mean?” She drops her jaw in shock at the fact that he calls her out on the carpet just like that.

“You’re afraid you’ll catch feelings again if you’re left alone with him, so you bring me as a shield. Am I right?” He asks her with an accusatory eyebrow raise. “You know what, no need to answer that. Of course I’m right.”

“I told you, he’s just a client now,” she insists, trying to ignore her heart pounding in her chest as Harry’s hand inches its way up her thigh. It’s incredibly arousing, but she also finds it a little disturbing since they’re having a conversation about a man she’s head over heels for. She almost want him to stop but fuck if she’s going to ask him.

“Look, I don’t know exactly what’s going on here,” he says, and it’s really hard for her to concentrate on what he’s saying since he’s squeezing her thigh. His fingers pressing deep into her muscles and she can only wish they’re a few inches higher. “But if in any way you want to get him back, just say the word and I’ll back away, yeah?”

“There’s nothing going on, Harry,” she reassures him. “You’ve got to trust me on this. He’s just a client now.”

“You sure?” Harry asks again. Turning to look at her briefly before he pulls into a parking space and puts the car in park, but she can tell by the tone in his voice that he doesn’t buy a single thing she’s said.

“I’m sure,” she nods reassuringly.

Harry grins as he reaches up and tweaks her on the nose. “You’re cute when you lie.”

“Shut up, shithead,” she mutters as she pulls on the door handle. It opens and she steps out, taking a moment to smooth down her dress. Leaning back down, she looks inside the car to look at Harry and give him a wink. “Now let’s go. The sooner we get this done, the sooner I can reciprocate.”

***

“You have it bad for him, don’t you?” Harry cocks an eyebrow at her accusingly, not even bothering to wait until Luke disappears past the lift to take a call.

YN blinks in surprise at his accusation, but instead of denying it for the second time tonight, she finally concedes. “Is it that obvious?”

“Holy shit,” this time, it’s Harry’s turn to look at her in surprise. He definitely wasn’t expecting her to admit it, but fuck if he believed that bullshit she told him in the car. “No, it’s not obvious. But I know you better than anyone in this room.”

She chuckles, before taking a swig of her Chardonnay. “True.”

“I meant what I said earlier in the car,” Harry reminds her. “Just say the word and I’ll back away. He’s probably still into you too.”

She just stares at him for a second. She’s obviously contemplating something, he can tell. He braces, wondering if she’ll finally tell him to back away. He has to remind himself to be cool, to just nod and smile if she actually does say that. They’re not exclusive, and as amazing as this last six months has been, he knows all good things come to an end. He has no absolute reason to be upset, he knows that. And as her best friend he only wants the best for her. If she thinks Luke can make her happy, then so be it.

He’s ready for her to tell him to back away. He does. Not saying that he’ll be happy, but he’ll accept it. So imagine his surprise when she gives him a smirk and says, “let’s go all the way tonight.”

Harry’s head shoots up, and he narrows his eyes at her. “You fucking with me?”

“I was hoping you’d be the one doing all the fucking,” she murmurs, still smiling coyly at him and somehow has the audacity to dip her eyes in a completely fake showing of shyness.

Harry’s eight-inch piece of equipment that had been jumping and twitching like an excited puppy now goes to full mast, pushing hard against his zipper. He drains the rest of his drink in one big gulp, not wanting to waste any time. “Stay here and wait for him to finish that sodding call. Make up an excuse for me and distract him while I go and try to get us a room upstairs.”

“You do realise that my flat is literally ten minutes away from here right? And your place is like, what, twenty minutes tops?”

“Upstairs is closer,” he lowers his voice huskily. “They have beds too.”

Her eyes sparkle with excitement. “Beds, huh?”

“What? Don’t fancy shaggin’ on a bed?” He says with a smirk, sitting straighter as he smooths his tie. “I’ll see if they’ve got anything with a balcony then.”

“You’re a lawyer, aren’t you?” She mocks, rolling her eyes. “Does the word indecent exposure mean anything to you?”

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?”

“I did,” she challenges him with a spark of defiance in her eyes. “And what are you gonna do about it?”

“Do that again and you’ll get the palm of my hand,” he tells her ominously.

“You’re all mouth and no trousers, Styles,” she taunts him.

“Good luck trying to sit tomorrow.”

***

In less than fifteen minutes, YN is standing in a lift with Harry’s lips roaming her neck and his finger sinking deep inside of her.

She didn’t have to make up an excuse when Luke went back to their table after taking the call. Apparently, there was some emergency and he needed to get back to his office as soon as possible for an emergency meeting with the boards. She assured him it was fine and that they could easily arrange another meeting to further talk about his plan to merge with another hotel group.

Harry doesn’t waste much time as he pushes the button to their floor and the doors close. He stalks towards her, cupping her head to bring her mouth to his, and his other hand going directly between her legs. She slips her tongue into his mouth and touches it against his, the vibe of the kiss turning a bit dirty. It’s a thrilling turn on, causing waves of pleasure to pulse through both of them. His tongue ends up dominating hers in the most searing, sexually explosive kiss she’d ever been given.

His hand softly fondles her for a moment, and then he’s inside of her, curling his finger in a way that has her knees buckling. He immediately saves the day by pushing one of his legs in between hers to hold her steady. He knows he doesn’t have time to get her off before they reach their floor, so he breaks the kiss and roams his lips along her neck lightly, moving his finger in and out of her leisurely but so very deeply. Her hips flex against him, trying to demand more, but she’s just going to have to wait.

When the lift starts to slow near their floor, he calmly removes his hand, smoothes her dress down, and gives her a light kiss on the nose.

He’s smiling at her as he closes the door behind them, in a completely relaxed, but thank fuck we’re finally doing this and I’m here to fuck you senseless kind of way, and it manages to show the two dimples he sports on either side of his full lips.

Their lips meet again as he leans in, softly at first, just a taste to whet the appetite. His arms tighten around her, and he increases the pressure, urging her to open up and let him in. He’s a force to be reckoned with in a courtroom, and fuck if she’s not thanking her lucky stars that he’s just the same in the bedroom. He moves his lips against hers, making delicious little thrusts and flicks with his tongue, teasing and tantalising, all while stroking her back in the most incredibly sensual way that makes her tingling from head to toe.

He loves how she just melts against him when he rubs her back, and how adorably dazed she looks just from a kiss. Grinning at her, he reaches a finger out to tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear. The blood in his dick thumps, eagerly demanding to move things along, but he’s determined to take his time with her.

Her mouth waters as her hands work at his belt buckle. His cock is thick and hard when she pulls him free of his boxer briefs, and she drops to her knees with her hand wrapped around his girth. It’s standing straight up before her after she releases it for a second, and she melts at the sight. There’s one perfectly thick vein running straight up the middle, but then it veers off at an angle. And although this is certainly not the first time she sees it, she can’t help but cock her head to the side just to see where it goes.

He palms the side of her head with one hand and holds her hair in a ponytail at the back of her head with the other. Looking up at him, she can see his jaw is locked tight and his chest is rising and falling rapidly.

She squeezes him hard, just the way she knows how he likes, and strokes up and down a few times, making him groan. His head falls back, eyes squeezed shut. “Please, sweetheart.”

“Ssh,” she shushes him before she murmurs low in her throat. “I’ve got you.”

She finally opens her mouth, bares her teeth slightly, and then scrapes them lightly over the tip. A long, deep groan rumbles out of him, his eyes remain shut tight. Exhilaration and victory swells within her, knowing that just that one tiny touch reduced him to utter helplessness.

He opens his eyes, gazing at her. His voice is thickened and gruff when he says, “you’ve got no idea how beautiful you look while on your knees before me.”

She responds to him by leaning in, and without hesitation taking the tip of him into her mouth, making him groan in relief. He grips her lightly, his fingers pressing into her scalp as a means of holding her steady and not to force action. She licks and sucks, squeezing and stroking him with her hand. He’s watching her from above with lust on his face, and she’s savouring every little groan she drags out of this normally stoic man. She flutters her tongue on the sensitive underside just below the head of his cock, her hand gently squeezing his balls as she works his shaft.

“Been dying to get that cherry lipstick on my cock,” he mutters softly, she can barely hear him. He grits his teeth as he slowly pulls out of her mouth. “Knew that red lipstick would look good on me.”

Her eyes slide to his cock, and she has no clue what her mouth looks like, but she’s absolutely sure most of her lipstick is gone since it’s smeared beautifully along the length of his shaft. She tries to take it back into her mouth, determined to bring him into completion that way, but his hand immediately covers her, holding her still while his eyes pin her in place. “Wanna be inside you.”

He helps her stand on her feet, and the next thing she knows, her dress pools around her ankle. His hands come to the back of her bra, flicking it open and pulling it from her. Then he drops to his knees before her. Fingers going under her knickers, he pulls them down just enough to gain access and runs his tongue up her centre.

He had fantasised about her naked before him more times than he could probably admit that he has to blink twice to convince himself that this time is real. And fuck if it isn’t much better than his dreams.

“Bed,” he commands, and she crawls on it with the intent to lay in a sexy pose as she turns over to face him, but he’s on the bed with her, quick as lightning, and flips her to her back.

Her eyes go up to find him staring at her tits, and she can’t help but joke. “They don’t bite, you know.”

His gaze comes up to meet hers, and his lips curve slightly. “But I do. It’s probably going to hurt a little.”

A shudder ripples through her, and her nipples harden. His eyes flick back down to her breasts. She swallows hard at the anticipation, the thought of him getting a little rough with them is thrilling, but there’s something else she wants more right now.

“I’m fucking dying to be inside you right now,” he whispers in her ear. His admission elicits a deep moan to escape from her lips. “Last chance to change your mind, doll.”

“Please just fuck me already,” she whimpers, her hands roaming his body. Every glide of her fingers over his skin fills him with a fullness he’s never experienced before. “I’m losing my mind.”

With one hand pressed into the mattress, Harry uses the other to take his cock in hand. He dips his hips, pressing the tip right into her entrance. Blowing out a breath, he brings his eyes to hers and holds her captive, finally thrusts deeply into her. She screams, not in pain but in pure fucking ecstasy, as he fills her up. Harry bottoms out, his pelvis pressed hard into hers.

Baring his teeth, he mutters, “fuck… that feels good.”

“Would feel better if you move,” she suggests with a smirk.

Harry stays completely still inside of her. He breathes in deeply, closes his eyes for a moment, and when he opens them up again, he gives her a sheepish grin. “I’m afraid to move. Afraid I might embarrass myself and blow my load in about two nanoseconds.”

She lets out a giggle, pretty sure that’s the one and only time in her life she’s ever done something so girly. Harry laughs huskily and kisses her hard. He doesn’t move an inch from his waist down but just kisses her deeply with thorough possession. When he pulls away, he tentatively circles his hips, grinding into her.

“Fuck,” Harry mutters, and drops his forehead to hers. “Yeah… definitely not gonna last long.”

Her hands go into his hair and she massages his scalp, incredibly touched and turned on over his reaction to her. She tugs on his hair, pulling his face away from hers. “Harry?”

He moves reluctantly and looks down at her with that same abashed look. She tilts her hips, clenches her internal muscles around his cock, and then rubs her thumbs into his scalp.

“Let go,” she commands him softly. “Fuck me hard and come as fast as you want. We’ve got all night.”

***

Harry’s hand reaches out, tapping the screen on his phone to turn the alarm off, laying silently in the predawn gloom pondering about his situation at this very moment.

There’s a naked, beautiful woman on top of him, and fuck if he can remember when was the last time he woke up with someone else in his bed. It’s not that he’s averse to cuddles; if the woman wants a cuddle with him after sex, he’d give it to them. The act of intimacy like that doesn’t scare him whatsoever. But normally he’d be out of their hair long before the sun is up, leaving them to wake up alone and him to start his day as if the night before didn’t happen.

He always tells himself to forget whoever he shags the night before no matter how great of a fuck she was, although he’ll allow himself to bring forth the memories when he jerks off if needed.

YN fell asleep a few hours prior, spread-eagled over his body right after she collapsed from the most recent fuck-fest. She came, he came, then she fell forwards onto his chest and was out like a light. And he left her right there all night. Letting her lie on top of him, calling it a day well completed and went to sleep himself.

His hand slides down from her stomach right between her legs, his fingers swiping through her folds which become slicker with desire the more he plays. She softly moans in her sleep and her lower body starts to squirm. Her breathing hitches, and the second she cracks her eyes open, she gives him that happy, sleepy, please fuck me again smile.

He gently eases her down from the top of his chest to lay beside him, rolling her to the side so her back is facing him. Then he pushes her outer leg up, sliding his body down just a little bit, angling his cock to slip into her from behind.

Harry moves slowly as he’s spooned around her and she moans in pure bliss as he fills her up. The arm that her head is resting on comes up to curve across her chest and hold her tight. His other hand grips the back of her thigh firmly to pin her in place.

“More,” she whispers on a forced exhalation.

“Fuck me,” he mumbles against her hair. “My girl wants more.”

And he gives her more. Fucking her exquisitely and with no doubt that neither of them has ever had it that good. He takes her higher and higher, the sweet words that he’s whispering in her ear is the complete opposite of the kinky shit they did last night.

“Balcony?”

YN didn’t hesitate, following right behind him as he pushed the doors open. A light breeze filters in but it’s still muggy outside. They’re on the seventh floor, and they can still hear the rumble of engines and the honking of horns below them. The quiet darkness of Belgravia stretches out beyond.

Harry walked up to the edge of the balcony, which was made of stone and concrete, sitting about three and a half feet high. He pulled her into his arms and gave her a searing kiss. She moaned, slipping her tongue in his mouth and gripped onto his shoulders. The kiss was deep and wet, and honestly, the best kind of kiss.

He pushed her up against the wall, laying a palm over one breast. Squeezing, plumping, testing the weight in his hand. He rubbed a thumbnail over her nipple, eliciting the softest sigh from her.

He brought his other hand south. Straight shot, right to her centre. Her head dropped to his shoulder as his fingertips continued to circle and rub against her. Within minutes she had his fingers deep inside her and his thumb working her hard. He wanted nothing more than to just line up and push his way in, but he waited. He waited until he saw her trembling became a little fiercer, her body tensed, and when she sucked in a large gulp of air, he knew that was his cue.

He quickly removed his fingers, bracing his hands on her hips and slammed forward. She took him all the way in and he cursed under his breath as he felt her spasm all around him when she came. For a second he thought about hitting it hard, chasing another orgasm, but then he decided against it, wanting to relish the scenery and listen to the sounds of the city.

“Let’s just quit our jobs and fuck all day,” Harry jokes as he drops her leg back down into place.

“Sounds good to me,” she laughs as she reaches around him, grabbing the complimentary bottle of water on the nightstand, taking a sip before she hands it to him and he finishes it in a couple of long swallows.

“Thirsty?”

“Starving too,” he replies in a way that doesn’t make her think he wants some bacon and eggs.

Within seconds, he has her on her back again as he slides down her body, roughly pushing her legs apart. Her hands shoot out, grabbing the sides of his head before he gets the chance to descend even lower. “No.”

“What?”

“Let me get cleaned up first,” she says lamely, pretty sure she’s killed the mood. “I mean… I’m filled with-”

Harry ignores her, cutting her off by dropping his mouth right between her legs and begins sucking. She shrieks from the warm contact, surprised by how sensitive she is, and as he lifts his gaze to hers, he murmurs. “That’s you and me together, and we taste fucking delicious.”

Her body trembles from his words, and through a dry and parched throat she croaks, “then by all means.”

“Thank you,” he says with a wink, then proceeds to bring her to another shattering orgasm that totally wrecks her.

#harry styles smut #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles ff #harry styles fanfiction #lawyer!harry #harry styles au #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurbs #harry styles fanfics #harry styles x y/n #harry styles one shot

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shirtlessfelix · 3 years ago

Note

Can we get some headcannons of Evan and Steve's (separately please) s/o sharing some pre-entity snacks with them? I may or may not wanna see Trapper try pop rocks or get bubble gum stuck in his mask-

Hello anon, we certainly can! This is interesting lol

Snacking HCs

<300 words each

Steve: Ice cream is the obvious first choice here, right? He'll bring his partner into Scoops Ahoy after hours and sneak them into the back where their favorite flavors are already together in a large cup. There might be some cones on the side, but Steve planned to share it ahead of time, so individual servings are off the table.

He'd never forget an assortment of toppings: marshmallows, graham crackers, chocolate chips/shavings, sprinkles of all kinds, gummy bears, you name it! Want something salty? He's also brought along popcorn, chips, pretzels, and pretty much anything he could snag from different shops.

"I work here, babe, it's not stealing," he says with his mouth full, that careless look in his eyes that his partner just loves. He'll toss something in their mouth to catch, and they'll do the same for him. They'll make a game out of it. He'll say, "You're so bad at this!" even though he's the one who's let crumbs fall all over the floor.

Trapper/Evan MacMillan: He's not as savvy about snacks as his S/O would be since he'd only ever eaten home cooking, and he's not one to have much of a sweet tooth. When he's handed an assortment of candy, he's taken aback by the bright packaging and the colors. "Is this edible?"

He takes a packet of pop rocks and examines it closely, thinking it looks more dangerous than delicious, but he trusts that his partner wouldn't kill him with it. He spits it out the first time, not expecting it to actually pop on his tongue, but he tries it again and says it reminds him of the furnace back at the Estate. "It's like I set a fire in my mouth... I don't hate it."

Mint-flavored chewing gum is in his regular rotation of stuff to occupy his mouth with while working, along with toothpicks and the like. The kind he likes doesn't have much give, but it's the most powerful flavor he knows.

Bubble gum is what throws him for a loop when he tries it and notices how much squishier it is than what he usually chews, and it's puts him off a bit. Blowing a bubble... "How do you do that? Can I do that? I can't do it." He'll spit it out by accident countless times before getting it right, and when it pops and clings to his mask, he won't be very happy trying to get it off.

#sffic #anon #req #hc #dbd #dead by daylight #dbd fanfic #dead by daylight fanfic #headcanon #dbd headcanons #evan macmillan #dbd trapper #steve harrington #dbd steve #dbd x reader

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cutegirlmayra · 4 years ago

Note

I know you did a prompt a while ago about Amy having a fan and Sonic told him to basically get lost. So could you do something like that but make the guy feel more entitled to Amy and she owes him her love. And when she rejects him he gets really aggressive so it justifies Sonic being more aggressive in turn? I love how your depict protective Sonic soooo cute!

So, I have MANY jealous and protective Sonamy stories XD Shifting through them, I think you meant this one? (x) For future reference, if any of you lovely Anons want to maybe just... link?... the actual prompt I would be very much appreciative since I have over 900+ lol

(Preview prompt image provided by ArtsyAnnieRose (x) Please support the artist :)b)

As I mentioned when reviewing this Prompt on my youtube --> Pajama Blogs Ep. 1 Prompt Requests (x) Timecode: - 54:21 - I try and not do the same prompt twice, which means I like to rewrite things so that I don’t just keep making the same stories for different requests. So with this one, I’ve thought a lot about how to present it, and I think this will be fun! (Also, side note: I’m not making this cute and parody-like, I’ve changed my mind XD I have the right to do that! lol)

***TRIGGER WARNING***: (now you know it’s gonna get good.) I have subtly littered red flags throughout this story, if you have experienced stalking or manipulation strategies in your life please be aware they will be showing up in this fic. Due to the subtle nature of these traits, please be informed that I am in no way trying to downplay the danger of these situations, but showing that to the main character currently in these situations, her view of them is naïve and she sees no danger. Therefore, the gravity of the situation seems friendly and kind, but in no form am I saying these techniques are alright or acceptable. The ‘stranger’ character in this story is a creep, no matter how ‘charming’ or ‘sweet’ he may be portrayed in the innocent main character’s view. (If I write this correctly, hopefully, that message will be more clearer towards the end of the story.) I encourage any who recognize these toxic behaviors to please question your relationship with that individual and find safe, healthy relationships to pursue/keep instead. Whether your relationship with these kinds of people are platonic, friendship, or romantic in nature--please keep yourselves, families, friends, and other such loved ones safe. I will not be listing or detailing all occurrences of these moments within the story; however, with some psychology basics or google searching, you can find these common red flags or complexed manipulation strategies and how to better identify them.

Prompts are on shutdown! Do not send in any prompt requests at this time. Thank you!

Okay... let’s dive right in.

DIVE, DIVE, DIVE.

Note: This is another unconventional, more mature-themed story that I- well...

But my hope is that it’s still a story worth telling, so if you choose to, please enjoy.

Prompt:

Upon a rather dark and greying sky, as though the mentions of brief rainfall and storm weren’t apparent, many citizens in this bustling city were making their usual rounds around the mall. Carrying a thin jacket with an umbrella’s strap swinging at her side, Amy light-heartedly mused over a recent magazine’s article on the most eligible men, and read the chatty writer’s remarks on how Sonic The Hedgehog seemed to be away when the interviews for them were called.

She thought that so like Sonic, always away, but secretly just close enough to still keep tabs on what’s going on with the many locations in the world.

Eggman seemed to have a base everywhere, and while things had been pretty quiet as of late, she looked up from her magazine and once again wondered where in the wide, blue world he could be.

Was he bored? Off on another adventure? ... Napping? Eating? Was he eating enough?

She sighed with a dreamy look on her face, lost in her thoughts before a stranger flicked his wrist as he approached her, and a charging wind blasted in her direction. Blowing her back, it swiftly hit against her loosely closed umbrella, since Amy wanted to be prepared for any sudden downpour, and triggered it’s spring to further yank her back.

“Ah!” Amy tried to turn around to catch herself, the strap around her wrist forcing the sudden about-face as she grabbed her umbrella’s long steel pole to try and counter the pull.

“Woah!” the stranger that was passing her from the front suddenly stumbled at the sight and quickly rushed behind her, leaning over and grabbing where her hand was on the open umbrella as the wind suddenly stopped. His hand lingered by her side as though to brace with her and help, before noticing the wind stop and looking dumbfounded at the umbrella.

There was a silence as Amy felt the stranger was almost holding her, and turned to him with blinks, “Heh-heh... umm... Thank you.” her body was bent as she tried to use her heels against the pavement to counter-force the sudden rush of heavy wind, but with it’s immediate halt, she stepped forward and away from the strange, intimate moment to close her umbrella.

He stood more straighter, fixing himself up too before smiling kindly to her, “Does this happen to you often? Sudden, emmmm...” He swirled his palm-facing upwards hands around as he held the long, hummed note. “Bursts of photo-aesthetic air through your hair?”

Amy chuckled lightly, briefly looking back at him before continuing to fix her umbrella, worried it may be broken as the spring wasn’t going down well enough. Realizing it was probably jammed, she blew up some air to her bangs, figuring the worst, “Yeah, real convenient for a photoshoot. Maybe the photographer will settle for a water effect?” she gestured humorously up to the clouds, “All I need is a chair,” she teased, “Thanks again for the help. Really! You came out of nowhere!”

“Much like wind.” He joked back, putting his hands in his pockets, tilting his head to her. “You... wouldn’t mind if I take in the view of that shot, would you?”

“Huh?” she didn’t quite understand what he was making reference to.

He smiled as if realizing she didn’t get it and shook his head, “Nothing, nevermind. I’m clearly wasting your time,” he took out his own umbrella, looked at her a moment, then back to it. His long, brown and heavy jacket then flopped back to his side as he offered her it, “No offense, but I did just meet you. I would offer you my umbrella, but I’m worried I may never see it again. However, I have a solution,” He opened the umbrella and then gestured his hand to a restaurant near him. “So that we’re not strangers anymore, and I can trust you with something so dearly precious to me as an old, fifty cent umbrella I literally picked up from a second-hand store... might I entreat you to a meal?”

Amy smiled, relieved he was being so gentlemanly. “I wouldn’t mind at all!” she cheerily perked up, looking at her umbrella and tossing it in a garbage can. “I’m Amy,” She took his hand, curtseying. “Amy Rose.”

She did notice he was probably older than her, but he did a little bow and she realized she hadn’t notice his real height until his eyes matched her level. He held his eyes with her sights... and she wondered why he was pausing so long, “I know...” He finally whispered out, tilting his umbrella over her head, “You’re pretty famous, you know. Anyone would be lucky to help you out in a pinch. I’m Oscar, I work around here.”

Guiding her into the outdoor restaurant, he sat her at one of the white tables with it’s own umbrella on it and closed his, settling down on the opposite side of her. “Well, then! Do you mind this spot?”

“Oh, it’s my favorite, actually!” Amy chimed, knowing the location very well.

“Really?” He seemed a little less intrigued at that than Amy would have normally supposed someone would, but then after putting his umbrella away, leaned forward as though very attentive and putting his fingers together, his elbows on the wooden round table of white and letting his nose press down against his hands. He had gotten comfortable, and Amy, thinking this was his way of showing interest in what she meant, continued to sweetly respond.

“This is so funny, but I come here almost every Thursday and Friday for the new deals at my favorite store! I usually order the same thing too,... I really love ice cream.” Amy felt a strange new energy at meeting someone for the first time, and continued to feel refresh at this new-found friendship.

“Ice cream? No way! That’s my favorite too!” Oscar parted his fingers as though excited to hear this. “I have a sweet tooth. I know, I know, so silly of a man like me.”

“Oh, no! Not at all!” Amy waved her hands out, “What’s your favorite kind?”

“Well,...” He thought a moment, before smiling back to her and holding a wink, “I have an idea, you tell me yours first. I bet it’s probably very different.”

“I’m a simple girl, Vanilla is mostly my cup of tea. But... whenever I’m feeling adventurous, I go for it! Scoops of Vanilla and Chocolate with some random new flavor of mint or cookie flavored and then I top it with all sorts of stuff!”

He coughed as though shocked, “...That’s literally my favorite too!”

“What!?” Amy was excited to hear this, “I thought I was the only one that eccentric!”

“I know! That’s why I thought your answer would be completely different!” As Oscar continued to review Amy’s interests, he kept nodding along and reaffirming that they shared many similar interest and hobbies before the waiter appeared. “I love to chase certain thrills and excitements. I’m sure, being an adventurer, I figured that may be the reason why you place yourself in such perilous circumstances as well.”

“Your orders, lady? Sir?” The waiter asked, trying to kindly cut in as Oscar pulled out his wallet.

“Strawberry sunday with a hint of vanilla, you?” he looked back to her.

“Ha! That’s my Thursday order!” she giggled into her hand, “Same here, please!”

He shook his head, a little theatrically, “It’s almost like... where have you been all my life?”

“I mean, I know, right!? And you work around here! That’s so weird that I’ve never seen you before... where-”

“Ah, there’s really nothing interesting about me. I’m much more fascinated in the adventures you take. What with your friends always weighing you down and everything.” He basically ignored the waiter as he tried to ask any follow-up questions, and Amy just looked between the two and then smiled politely to the waiter, showing that that was all they were going to have.

“Weighing me down..? Oh no, without Sonic and the others, I couldn’t do anything as big as saving the world! We all need each other, you know?” She happily confirmed before he spoke again, sighing.

“I guess they would have you think that way, huh?” a offhanded comment that made Amy’s eyebrows furrow, but she just continued to speak about the wonderful traits and abilities of her friends, in which case, he kept shaking his head as though she was wrong.

“What?” She finally asked, “You don’t seem to like Sonic, Tails, or Knuckles...”

“I just think you could do with some different friends.” He shrugged, “Some that wouldn’t constantly leave you behind or undergrade your merit.” In that moment, the waiter came back to place down their orders.

“U-undergrade..?” She looked down a moment, “N-no, no one’s holding me back or anything. I choose how I help out, I can’t always keep up with Sonic and the others so-” she stopped a second and shook her head, getting frustrated, “I-I mean, I can go with them whenever I want!” she retorted, and noticing her shift in demeanor, he took some ice cream and then held out his hand.

“Oh no, no, no. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to imply you couldn’t keep up. I meant that you’re invaluable and they don’t treat you as such. But don’t worry, I’m here now, and I’ll show you how a true heroine should be treated. This meal is on me.” he gestured to her ice cream, “After this, I’ll show you some places that you probably haven’t been to before.”

“O-oh... T-That does sounds exciting!”

For a few weeks after that, Amy began to hang out with Oscar frequently. They would text back and forth, and she couldn’t help but smile when he always called her beautiful and made her feel so special. However, although the places they first went to weren’t so bad... he started showing her back alleyways with clubs and other ‘themed’ places that made her slightly uneasy.

She knew he was older than her, but would decline any invitation if he stated, “But I know a guy, he’ll let you in.” and continued to protest and remind him of her age.

That being said, the parks were lovely though!

He would often bring her little gifts and flowers too, stating that the next time she came with him, he’d bring some home-made food and had a habit of patting her head or brushing something off her hair if it landed on her. Though, Amy never noticed the ‘leaf’ that had fallen on her shoulder, or the ‘bug’ that was buzzing around her headband.

He also would usually lead her when they walked and talked, if they came to a corner, he would lightly put his hand to her back, until one time she mentioned his hand went just slightly lower than normal and he apologized profusely.

All was going very well, he even carried her bags and offered to take them home with her, but she insisted she would take the train and that he needn’t worry.

Finally, on a Friday when she was heading down for her sale, texting Oscar, a familiar wind picked up and almost brought up her dress.

“Oh, look out!” Oscar appeared and grabbed her dress, pushing it down. “Phew! Close one, aye?”

“W-where did you come from?” Amy adjusted her dress as he held his hands to the rim of her dress still, but when she looked up at him, he immediately released them.

“I suppose I just naturally come when you need me.” he scratched the back of his head, looking away as though shy. “I don’t know... sometimes, I can’t sit still, I get this feeling like you need me, and lo and behold!” He gestured to her, “You really do need someone looking after you twenty-four seven, huh?” he squatted down to look up at her, then his face turned to concern. “It’s a shame you don’t have anyone to look after you... especially in moments like this.”

“W-what are you talking about? I have Sonic!” Amy placed her Miles-Electric away and gestured for him to stand upright, but instead, he took her hands and placed them on his cheeks, acting cute but a lot younger than he actually was.

“But he didn’t save you, I did~” he whined, squishing her hands to his cheeks and rotating them around as she thought him slightly weird and took them away, pushing him back as he stumbled. “H-hey!”

“Oh, you! Sonic is just the same way! He can’t sit still when he senses someone needs him... hey, that reminds me of my article...” Amy remembered the magazine she was subscribed too, and looked over to see that within his usual trench coat, was a page of that article sticking out. “Ah!” She pointed to it, amazed, “You read ‘Famous Quips’ too!?!”

“Doesn’t everyone?” he seemed to speak quickly, before shoving the magazine back in deeper. “Ehem, kinda a girlie magazine... promise not to tell anyone? I don’t wanna lose my street-cred!”

She laughed, “You are like Sonic! Always acting so cool...” she shook her head and took his arm, what she had started doing since he offered it so many times, and they walked down the street.

He bought anything her eye rested on, which made her beg him to at least let her pay for food, as he mentioned a concert happening at the club he kept trying to get her to go to.

“Come on, you’ll love this band! We adore the same music too! I know a perfect spot in the back where no one will see us and the bouncer is my friend!” his voice was enthusiastic, nudging her every now and then with his elbow as she looked away and rolled her eyes. “You’re not a babe anymore, Amy! You’re gonna end up going to clubs eventually, might as well be with someone you know, right?”

“I don’t know...” Amy looked down,... and he gently stopped walking to look away from her.

“...Do you not trust me?”

“W-what?” Amy let go of his arm, “What do you mean? Of course I do!” she was very hurt by his accusation, “I mean, we’ve hung out so much, I just don’t really think clubbing is my thing...”

“You never want to do what I suggest.” He looked down, “I go to your favorite store with you and help you bargain hunt, I take you around the park... I’m just saying, the one time I want to go and do something, you keep saying no.” he folded his arms, and Amy began to panic that he was really offended by her.

“T-that’s not true, Oscar! I...” she looked away a moment, and he looked back at her.

“...Ah, I can’t stay mad at you.” He pulled her into a hug, holding her there. He took a deep breath, “I’m sorry, hey, let’s go get ice cream and talk about it later, okay? I’ll pay again.”

Her eyes shifted about, not sure what that was all about. “N-no, I’ll pay.” she tried to move away but kept an arm around her and led her on.

“I wouldn’t be considered a man if I let the woman pay!” he insisted, and ended up paying for the meal.

As it got late, he offered to carry her bags home again, and whined in a goofy way when she kept saying it was too late to have guests over, but maybe sometime.

“If you won’t see the concert with me, at least take me to your place sometime. It’s the least you could do for me.” He gave her the bags, then stroked her hair again, “You really shouldn’t be taking the train at night, you never know what sicko might be on it. You’re tough, Amy dear, but you’re still a girl and you know how you’re prone to cause problems.” he laughed, but that stung Amy’s pride a bit.

She held her bags and looked away a moment, “...Is that... how I come off to people?”

“Oh sure!” he then continued to stroke her head, “...You ... didn’t notice?”

“...That I look weak?” Amy shook her head and he instinctively removed his hand.

He held it in the air a moment, before letting it rest on Amy’s head again, as though realizing she wasn’t doing that to make him stop.

“No... the part where I... gave you a new nickname.” He smiled, tenderly and squatted down to her level again, keeping his hand on her head. “Amy dear. I think it’s cute!”

“...O-oh, I mean, I don’t really like how it could appear though.” Amy had a bead of sweat form and he abruptly got up, looking upset.

“Don’t like how it could appear!? What does that mean!?” He snapped.

She flinched at his sudden uproar, as he grabbed a bag from her, “I’ve been wanting to introduce the nickname to you all day! And that’s how you think about it!?” he looked as though he was going to either smash or rip the bag, but just looked furiously away from her, “I thought about it a lot, you know! It was suppose to mean something!”

Amy grew slightly afraid, but not taking this sudden mood-swing again, she opened her mouth to say something.

He interjected and looked dead in her face, “You really don’t trust me, do you, Amy?”

Thinking she didn’t want to hurt him, she shook her head, “I-I never said that!”

“Don’t yell at me,” he looked downhearted suddenly, even though she wasn’t raising her voice that much, not like he was.

“I’m not-”

“You are, and it’s really making me feel like you’re just... you don’t consider me a friend. I told you people usually reject me,... I was vulnerable to you!”

“Oscar, calm down a moment and-”

“You’re the one who’s not ‘calming down’ you can’t do a single thing I want to do! You’re being... selfish!” he flopped the bag down in front of her, startling her as he took off stomps and a hissy-fit.

Not able to process that sudden shift in behavior, Amy was lost to her thoughts and... slowly... proceeded to get the bag and head to the train station.

Numerous texts came flooding in that week as she hadn’t gone back to the plaza and mall, and she kept wondering how he knew she wasn’t there. They had hung out multiple times, maybe he was just expecting another hang out without actually asking this time...

Still, she felt somewhat obliged to text back: Sorry, I’ll see you Friday. This Thursday, I just felt sick.

Oscar: Do you need anything? Send me your address, I’ll bring you medicine and make you some food! I really am sorry if I scared you, I shouldn’t have done that. You’re beautiful and I’m just insecure. You know how I can be, just like you, I get really attached to people and just want to be accepted. I’m really sorry, please don’t not see me again! I promise I’ll get myself under control, we’ll do whatever you want to do this time! Honest!

Amy didn’t text back...

Oscar: The concert is next Friday, I won’t mention it again but... it would be really awesome if we could see Pop Pinkies together... I know it’s my favorite band and our favorite music is what they play so... just think about it at least, alright?

That Friday, Amy was wearing something that made her almost blend in with the crowd. Unlike her usual bubbly skip in the streets, she was hiding beneath her umbrella and coat, as though not wanting to be spotted.

A sudden burst of wind and she panicked, darting behind a corner and putting her umbrella away. “Dumb wind.” she mumbled, looking around to make sure Oscar wasn’t there...

The wind suddenly shifted as she poked her head out, “That’s odd, wind doesn’t usually change direction unless...” she turned and gasped as she saw Sonic, leaning his head towards her and looking confused.

“...Since when did you start taking the back-alley ways? Don’t you know that’s dangerous, Amy?” He blinked, furrowing his brow as he straightened up and folded his arms, “Heh, long time no-”

Amy’s mind was suddenly triggered by something Oscar had said, and she tuned out Sonic completely, her world going dark...

“I just think you could do with some different friends. Some that wouldn’t constantly leave you behind or undergrade your merit.”

“You’re tough, Amy dear, but you’re still a girl and you know how you’re prone to cause problems.“

“Is that... really how I appear to you?” Amy’s voice quaked as she spoke it, “Do I really look weak... even to you?”

Sonic was taken aback by the tears forming in her eyes, and immediately dropped the friendly banter, “Amy? What’s wrong? Weak?” he didn’t know where she got that notion from. “N-no, I-... Amy, is something wrong?” he moved forward to reach for her but pulled away, something Amy wasn’t used to as she really did--for a brief moment--think he was going to place his hand on her head.

Almost as if expecting that, she leaned her head in a strange way and then back, not sure why she did that.

He didn’t notice the action though, but she hugged herself, also remembering that after the light head pats was usually a strong and forceful embrace...

“...Amy?” she hadn’t responded to him, and now, Sonic was noticing a very clear change in Amy.

“N-no, of course you wouldn’t think that... I’m sorry, I really don’t... I don’t want to be around people right now.” she looked away, “I... I made someone feel really bad and I don’t know what to do.”

“Really? What did you do?” Sonic lifted his hand and she immediately looked at it, which made him pause. “...Umm... I was just gesturing... Amy...” His ears bent back, not sure why she looked so squarely at his hand. “Is everything okay?”

She really thought he was offering her hand, but she didn’t want to take it... not this time.

“I made a new friend, and he’s mad at me. I’m worried... if I hurt him again, he’ll really be in a bad emotional state, and it’ll be all my fault.” Amy put her umbrella up and started to walk away from Sonic, “I want to take a new route, I didn’t even want to come out today...”

“...Amy, you don’t control this new friend’s behavior, they do.” Sonic corrected her and walked beside her, focusing heavily on the signs of uncomfortability Amy was showing. “...What happened with this ‘new friend’ of yours?” He directly asked, and Amy relayed to him how she met him, then how he liked all the things she liked and agreed with everything in the beginning, how charming he was before the more time she spent with him, he seemed to change and start acting funny... but not in the good way.

“...He likes everything you like?” Sonic lowered his head a little, honing in on some things Amy briefly mentioned.

“Yeah, isn’t that crazy? He’s a guy but he totally loves sweet things and a popular girl’s magazine I enjoy.” Amy smiled, closing her eyes as though cheering up when thinking about it.

“...And he knew your order before you even made it?” Sonic folded his arms, putting two and two together.

“Yeah...” Amy suddenly slowed down in her steps, her eyes widening.

Sonic closed his eyes, matching her speed as he began to help her focus on the more important parts of her story, “And this... strange wind that passes by here... only comes at you and blows your dress up or opens your umbrella?”

She stopped.

He continued to walk, “And you say he works around here... which means he may have seen you come and go multiple times... and probably watched you ordered and heard what you liked, and saw what you read, and knew about you from the news and press... he disliked your friends and took you places and then entitled himself to being in charge over your Thursday and Friday venues... then, to really top it all off with the icing on the cake and all that jazz... he’s been insisting you go to a adult-themed club with him and throws a tissy-fit when you say no?”

Sonic stopped, his fists had already tightened into such hard balls of fury that he had to take silent deep breaths just to contain himself.

“And worst of all... he’s tried to copy me and put it in your mind that your friends don’t respect you the way we should... isolating you,” He put out a finger, “Grooming and manipulating you... Amy, you should have written this guy the moment he snapped at you... and probably sooner, but I’ll take that as you were just seeing the best sides of him... and not the dirty kind.” he didn’t turn around, but he felt Amy lingering behind him and knew if he said anymore, she may just start crying. “...Where do you think this creep is now?”

“He... He’s not a creep.” Amy lied, feeling in her heart that she just did lie, for Oscar’s sake...

Sonic tsk’ed and turned around, “How can you stand there and defend him!? Do you even know what Grooming is!?”

“...I... I don’t.” she wiped her eyes, “I don’t think I know anything...”

The manipulation had really set in on Amy, she was denying something she knew was true and didn’t know why. She was defending a man who clearly was up to no good, and yet... she cared about him still.

“Sonic... I think... I think I’m sick.” she held her stomach, the realization setting in. “You don’t think... he wanted me to take him to my house to..?”

“He wanted to what!?” Sonic lunged forward, holding his fists back and to his sides as he tried to remain level-headed, pulling away from her. “Amy, you know the truth now, it’s time to end this... ‘friendship’ you two have.”

Amy fell to her knees, “That’ll kill him!”

Sonic immediately looked behind him, Amy almost begging him not to make her do it as Sonic couldn’t stand to see her this broken and twisted up from Oscar’s scheming.

“Amy...” he wanted to say so many things..! But instead, just turned around and held a strong look, “You have to face this... but you won’t be alone.” He offered her his hand, “I won’t leave your side, and I’ll be there the whole way through. You deserve to go out and have fun without someone telling you that it can only be ‘their’ way of fun.” He looked so serious... but she felt a peace wash over her at how she knew his words were never lies or deceits for something devious. His words were for her and her well-being... not once did Sonic ever yell or enforce his way about things at all. He listened to her, even though she knew he must be raging inside at his friend’s predicament... it’s not like she purposefully got herself into this mess.

“You know how you’re prone to cause problems.“

She placed her hands up against her eyes, crying. “Am I... being a burden to my friends, Sonic?”

He immediately scooped her up into a bridal-style hold, “Which store did you want to visit today, Amy? Or do you want to just go home?”

“Please, I want to go home.” Amy held onto him as without a second word, he zoomed off.

The next few days, Sonic instructed that Amy block the number, but text messages seemed to not be the only thing Oscar knew... He called her home number, which surprised both of them, and the phone never stopped ringing.

That next Thursday, Sonic accompanied Amy everywhere she went, and they didn’t spot Oscar anywhere. But come that Friday...

Sonic was carrying some of Amy’s bags, she didn’t look fully recovered from anything, but at least she was wearing brighter colors in her coat she wore that day, and a nice sun hat as Sonic held the umbrella up for her.

He looked a little bored, but kept his eyes peeled when a sudden wind shoved him to the pavement.

“Ah! Sonic!” Amy turned around but was immediately grabbed around the waist, pulled back. “Gah!”

“I can’t believe you let him back into your life!!!”

Amy’s ears rang with Oscar’s voice, before shoving him back and falling down beside Sonic, who quickly shook off the wind blast and spun around to pick up Amy’s things, placing the bags by the store’s window.

“So, this is the wind-manipulator, eh?” Sonic rotated his shoulder out, having landed on it pretty roughly, “Look, I don’t know anything about you, and neither does Amy, really! So either get the hint and quit bothering Amy, or I’ll have to take matters into my own hands!” he hunkered down, getting ready for a fight, but... he also seemed not to be putting on airs or a show.

Sonic... although smiling a bit as he spoke to him, suddenly took a darker and more focused attention on how Oscar was holding himself.

Oscar looked to Amy, not even talking to Sonic, “I told you everything about me... What does that lying Sonic know about you!? I’m the one that’s been with you this whole time while he’s been off, probably with some other girl!”

Amy thought that ridiculous, and seeing him in a new light, she was able to at last come to fact with this pervert in front of her. “You... you were never my friend... were you, Oscar?”

He bit his teeth down, “Is that what he made you think?!”

“No, that’s what he made he realize!” She threw up her hammer and blasted wind at her.

She was forced to slide against the concrete, “I don’t mean to hurt you, Amy dear!” he cried out, “We’ll settle this when he isn’t around!”

“I think you’ve got it backwards, Oz!” Sonic, seeing that his hands controlled the wind, kicked it away from Amy’s direction and then spun in a rotation within the air to punch him down.

He stumbled, as though not used to physical fighting and tumbled all the way over into the street.

“I’ve known Amy much longer and deeper than you have! You’re just some creep who takes advantage of little girls!” Sonic’s fists was shaking, clearly, he didn’t want to just leave it at one blow. “Amy, get behind me!” He gestured out his hand and Amy immediately got up and moved behind him.

“I can... I think I can fight him!” She tried to state, but Sonic looked behind his shoulder and she put her head down. “I... I want to but...”

“...You still care about me, don’t you, Amy dear?”

“Quit calling me that!” Amy threw her arms down, “You used me! You weren’t my friend! I can’t believe I trusted you!”

Sonic turned to the man, “Why are you even answering him, Amy? He’s not talking to you, he’s talking to some Amy Dear girl he’s been building in his mind. You were never anything to him... it was the girl he was crafting that he was interested in.” Sonic slowly walked towards him as the man started to scoot back, clearly not able to fight Sonic The Hedgehog.

“Let’s play a new game...” Sonic suddenly lifted up a device, “Is your real name Warner Windstrom? You’ve got a bounty on your head that the cops are just dying to claim...” he pressed the button as suddenly an alarm went out, and from around the corners, police vehicles blocked his way of escape. “Oh, and that club? A typical place where your old ‘hostages’ claimed they were drugged. Trust me, pal, I’ll personally make sure you don’t get out of jail again.” Sonic let the police start moving in but Warner immediately shoved air beneath him and flew into the sky, shocking everyone as Sonic held up a arm over his eyes and moved back to Amy, shielding her as well.

She was in shock, that kind man she knew was suddenly a criminal and had previously hurt and abused other women... She didn’t know Sonic set this all up, but she probably wouldn’t have let him if she had known.

“I thought we were just gonna talk to him!” she cried out, putting her hand on his shoulder before shaking her head, “I’m defending him again... aren’t I?”

“Amy shouldn’t be with a loser like you, Sonic!” Warner cried out, “You can’t always save her! You can’t always be around to-!”

Before he could finish, a hammer slammed into his gut.

“Nice one, Amy.” Sonic complimented, as Amy stood up beside him.

She didn’t say anything, but judging from the neutral expression... and tears streaming down her eyes...

He just looked back at Warner, “I know this is a lot to take in... but trust me on this one... You’ll be alright.”

Amy summoned another hammer, “Want to give me a lift?”

“Certainly.” Sonic spun into a ball that lifted him up into the wind, then uncurled to reach out for Amy as she jumped, “Hit him hard!” he encouraged as he threw her up the rest of the length.

She pushed her dress down as he extended his arms to her, “Amy, please! You know me! I love-!”

She just growled and let out a piercing war-cry, slamming her hammer down on his face, “I’m not your friend, I’m not your anything, buzz off!!!!”

He slammed to the ground, and as the wind ceased, Sonic landed and caught her immediately, and the two watched as the police immediately took him.

He kept trying to call out to Amy but she didn’t say anything back, just ducking her head into Sonic’s shoulder.

Sonic’s eyes never left Warner’s face... but leaving the scattered bags around, he took her to the park near by and sat her down.

He waited there... as Amy was just frozen in her thoughts... unable to speak.

After some time, she got up and walked to stand beside him, “What about the bags?”

“Not concerned.” Sonic stated, then looked back to her, “You okay?”

“No,” Amy admitted, “You were right. It’s gonna take time... but I wish it would all just go away now.” she placed her hands on the side of her arms, “How... how did you know? When I was telling you about him... how did you know he was no good?”

Sonic tilted his head back and forth, then tapped his head. “When you’ve been around the block a few times... helping justice here and there... you learn a thing or two about red flags, Amy... you don’t have a lot of dating experience--or just knowing bad dudes are like that--in general! I don’t blame you... but I do think that you should be careful who your friends are.”

She scooted closer to him... then tilted her head to his shoulder.

“..Can you help me get better?”

“No,” he lightly tilted his head to hers, “But I can be with you while you figure it out.”

There was a long moment of silence as they held that comforting moment...

“Will I ever be me again?” she asked, her voice cracking slightly.

“...No,” He responded, tenderly, as though a whisper as he looked up at the rain being to slowly drop all around them. “But I can be with you as you learn to accept her.”

Amy closed her eyes, feeling the small drops of rain before it all at once, speedily came down on them.

“...Will you still love me? At the end of it all?”

Silence...

“I already do.”

Rain scattered as Sonic held his eyes straight up into the clouds... the storm in his heart subsiding as Amy cried and her shoulder’s bounced beside him.

#sonamy #sonamy au #sonamy prompt #sonicxamy

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