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levok · 2 years

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For Vogue Scandinavia's inaugural digital cover story, we capture the candid camaraderie of the cast of Young Royals. Edvin, Nikita, Malte, Frida and Omar discuss their off-screen relationships, the whirlwind rise to stardom and the much-anticipated next season of the Netflix series

The cast of Young Royals are sitting around a long table at a hip restaurant in Södermalm. Someone shouts out a request for “Vi ska aldrig gå hem” by Molly Sandén and when it comes, as if by magic, blaring through the speakers, the whole gang sings along. Omar Rudberg, looking dapper in a matching printed Louis Vuitton fit, stands and raises his glass of sparkling wine in a toast.

They appear like any group of young, especially attractive, well-dressed friends catching a celebratory meal together, save for the snap of our photographer’s camera. Still, the vibes are not for show; the camaraderie between this group – the gentle teasing, the easy laughs, the hugs and cuddles – is palpable.

It has been over a year since Young Royals season one landed on Netflix, forever changing the lives of its stars. The story of a Swedish prince who falls in love with another boy at boarding school was a modern conceit, to be sure, but in the wrong hands it could have easily come and gone as another unremarkable teen drama. No one, least of all the cast, could have predicted the explosive response to the series.

“I remember the engagement beforehand was pretty low,” notes Edvin Ryding, who plays the aforementioned Prince Wilhelm. There was a simmering excitement among a select few (he recalls one comment that read, simply, “Looks gay, I’m in!”), but the overall anticipation was nothing noteworthy.

To say that things changed within a day would be inaccurate. In fact, things changed after just six hours, the total runtime of season one. That’s when the comments, fan reaction videos and, perhaps most notably, Instagram followers started to roll in at an almost alarming rate. “It still never ceases to amaze me,” Ryding says. “People are still discovering it.”

"I REMEMBER THAT HE LAID DOWN ON ME, ON MY LEGS, LOOKING UP AND I STARTED TOUCHING HIS HAIR. AND I JUST REMEMBER THINKING, ‘OH SHIT, THIS DUDE IS SO GOOD."

-Omar Rudberg

Season two is set to reignite Young Royals mania (though, incredibly, the mania has barely subsided). We pick up with our beloved characters heading back to fictional boarding school Hillerska, reeling from the events of last season. Wilhelm and his love interest, Simon (Rudberg), navigate their “breakup” while the prince seeks revenge on his own cousin, arrogant bad guy August (played with aplomb by Malte Gårdinger). Dramatics, temper tantrums and raucous party scenes ensue.

In the meantime, Ryding and his co-stars – Rudberg, Nikita Uggla, Gårdinger and Frida Argento – have had time to digest the insanity of their experience. It’s been a strange year, in which the cast went from regular adolescents to regulars on Sweden’s biggest red carpets. There have been brand sponsorships and modelling gigs. International magazine covers and swanky fashion dinners. On the flip side, there has been high school (Ryding) and summer jobs (Uggla and Argento).

The whirlwind began, as many star-making stories do, with a series of auditions. “I had the worst experience before I got to the casting,” Rudberg recalls. “I couldn’t find the place – I went the wrong way.” He arrived to the audition five minutes late, sweaty and stressed out. Rudberg was no stranger to the spotlight; he first rose to fame as a member of One Direction-esque Swedish boy band FO&O at age 14 and currently enjoys a thriving career as a solo artist. However, he was brand new to acting, adding an extra layer of anxiety.

And there he was, Ryding, already sitting in the audition room. “We didn’t even have time to say hi,” says Rudberg. “I just sat next to him and we started.” At 18, Ryding has had more audition experience than most; he’s been working steadily as an actor in Swedish films and television series since he was just six years old.

“I remember that he laid down on me, on my legs, looking up and I started touching his hair,” says Rudberg. “And I just remember thinking, ‘Oh shit, this dude is so good’.” From that moment, he “just felt it’s going to be us”.

Rudberg was hardly the only actor considered. Even Gårdinger, who wound up playing August, Wilhelm’s villainous cousin, originally went in for Simon (“I’m pretty tall, it wouldn’t have worked,” Gårdinger says). Ryding met “a few Simons” throughout his audition process. “It was weird,” he says. “I think one of them was an extra later on.” But from that first audition with Rudberg, Ryding agrees that they “just clicked”.

After the audition, Rudberg sent Ryding a DM, asking if they could meet up for coffee. “I instantly wanted to become friends with him,”Rudberg says. They kept in touch. Eventually, while at Central Station in Stockholm, Ryding got the call offering him the role of Wilhelm. “I was like, ‘Oh my god, oh my god, yes! Finally!’” he recalls. About a month later, Rudberg was offered Simon.

“It was a done deal the first time I saw them together during the casting process,” says Rojda Sekersöz, who directed several episodes of season one. “I think chemistry is not something magical that just appears from nowhere. It appears when you're brave enough to open up your energy field to someone else, and the other person does the same and you hold hands and dance together.”

"THIS IS LIKE COUPLES THERAPY"

-Edvin Ryding

Fans held a similar sentiment. The response to – or rather, obsession with – Ryding and Rudberg’s on-screen romance is at the heart of Young Royals’ runaway success. It’s an obsession that’s supported by their flourishing off-screen friendship, occasionally alluded to via social media. Heading into season two, they’re both pushing two million Instagram followers.

Not since Norway’s Skam, in 2015, has a Scandinavian teen series – and its emerging stars – had such global impact. And while Skam was certainly an international phenomenon, it was also, at the time, relatively challenging to watch outside of Norway. Local super-fans would meticulously put English subtitles on each episode, before making the subtitled content available for not-so-legal download. Young Royals, in addition to being well-written, gorgeously acted and stunningly visualised, is backed up by the phenomenal power of Netflix. In November, season two will launch globally on the streaming platform to 221 million users in over 190 countries.

While the co-leads’ post-show blow-up has been the most extreme, it is an experience shared by the entire main cast. “When the Instagram followers started to roll in, I didn’t check my Instagram so much,” says Uggla. “It was kind of scary in the beginning.” The 21-year-old actress, who plays Felice, the super posh cool girl with a heart of gold, nearly missed her opportunity to audition. The casting department had been sending requests for a self-tape to her old email. Eventually, they gave her a call instead. “Thank god my number was the same,” she says.

Soon, Uggla was on the train from her tiny hometown in Skåne to an in-person audition in Stockholm. While she wasn’t necessarily what series creator and head writer Lisa Ambjörn had envisioned for Felice, the young actress was a revelatory surprise. “We really struggled finding the perfect actor for that role,” says Ambjörn. "Nikita came in and just gave her this calm comfortableness that highlighted Felice’s insecurities and issues in a refreshing way."

Though she now lives in Stockholm, when season one dropped, Uggla was back in Skåne, waitressing. It was her older brothers who kept tabs on their sister’s growing celebrity. “I see the family group chat and my brothers were like, ‘Oh my god, you have, like, 20,000 followers,’” Uggla says. “No wait, it’s going up. Now you have 80,000.”

It was bizarre at first, trying to decipher if people were staring because they recognised her from the show or if they were staring because she was “doing something weird”. But eventually Uggla settled into her new reality. Soon she was doing front-facing TikToks, in which she interacts with fans directly, taking on select brand sponsorships (among them, sustainable shoe brand Toms) and even walking the runway for Ganni during Copenhagen Fashion Week. “It was an experience I never would have dreamed of,” she says of her runway debut. “Walking in a fashion show? That’s crazy to me.”

For Uggla, her purpose goes beyond simply enjoying (and capitalising on) her big moment. Growing up, she didn’t have many role models she could relate to. “Beyoncé and Rihanna were the only two black people I could see on TV,” she says (coincidentally, Rihanna is Rudberg’s long-time role model, too). “I want to be that person that people can look up to.” She often speaks candidly about self-confidence, self-love and body positivity on her platforms. “Let’s be honest, I don’t look like most of the influencers you see on social media,” she says. “I just want to make sure the fans are seeing different types of women.”

On set, Uggla has found a best friend in Argento, who plays Simon’s introverted sister, Sara. Their relationship blossomed, much like it does in season one, over horses. In the show, Sara and Felice become unlikely friends as the former, who works in the boarding school’s stables, teaches the latter to ride. “We had training alone sometimes, with the horses,” says Argento. “That’s when we really bonded.” Uggla recalls venting to Argento about an impending breakup with her then-boyfriend on the car rides to and from horse training. Today, a picture of the duo is the background on Uggla’s iPhone.

Argento came into the cast late, after the originally-cast Sara dropped out during pre-production. She’s quick to point out that while her life has certainly been altered by Young Royals, it isn’t as though she’s living in the lap of Hollywood luxury. “I saw a page where it said my net worth was, like, one million dollars,” she says, laughing at the absurdity of the notion. While she will attend the odd fashion event (with Uggla, usually) she generally shies away from opportunities beyond her craft. “I love acting, but I don't really love to be the centre of attention,” she says, adding that the initial boost in Instagram followers made her “scared as f***”.

“In the beginning, it was really exciting to get things for free,” Argento admits. “You were getting paid to post and things like that. But I found myself getting anxious doing it and didn’t like it, because it felt so fake.” She doesn’t judge others for taking advantage of these sorts of opportunities – she’ll even dabble herself, on rare occasions. Between seasons, she worked at a pizzeria.

If Argento is a little bit disinterested in the trappings of fame, Gårdinger, whose father Pontus Gårdinger is a well-known Swedish actor and presenter, is even less interested. When the first season came out, he was in the countryside, so he “didn’t really get the hype”. “I saw the followers and was like, ‘Oh, OK, that’s unexpected, but I’ll take it’,” he says. However, when he returned to Stockholm, things got “a bit weird”. “In the beginning, I was a bit more nervous than the people that were coming up to me.”

By now, Young Royals fans know that Gårdinger, 22, could not be further from the often- obnoxious high-schooler he plays on-screen. “I thought that people were going to hate me pretty hard when the show came out,” he says. “But they pretty quickly saw the differences.” The word his castmates lovingly use to describe him is “goofy”. “He’s just a sweet little bunny,” says Rudberg. Gårdinger is “not a big Instagram guy”. He doesn’t check his DMs – he hardly checks his emails.

Ryding tells me he’s taking a breather from social media as well. “I get very affected,” he says. “It doesn’t have to be in a negative way, I just realised it takes up a lot of my time.” The youngest in the main cast, Ryding spent his time between seasons back at high school. In an experience that mirrors that of Prince Wilhelm, Ryding immediately felt all eyes on him. “It was pretty meta,” he says. “It was a bit difficult to cope with – that was supposed to be my free zone.”

There are upsides, of course. I first met Ryding and Rudberg at a Prada dinner in Stockholm around this time last year. The season one hype was at a fever pitch and they were both enjoying the moment. I’ve run into them a handful of times since, sometimes together, sometimes not – at a Cartier party, a VMANdinner, at the Cannes film festival. A year later, it’s not as if anyone is shying away from the spotlight – we’re on set with Vogue, after all – they’ve just learned to set boundaries and navigate the madness a bit better. “Omar has taught me a lot about the right to say no,” says Ryding.

And when they need that bit of extra support, they turn to each other. “We’ve gotten so close. We all went through the exact same thing with blowing up and being recognised,” says Argento. “That would have been hard to do alone.” When Uggla sees her castmates, she always does the “real check-ins”. She’ll ask, “How are you?” And then, “But how are you really?”

The family-like dynamic of the cast is confirmed by the show’s creator. “Even if everything hasn’t been completely free of friction – no relationships are and film sets are very stressful – I think it’s the genuine care between them all that has turned them into a very tight-knitted group off-camera,” says Ambjörn, noting that they manage to be “kind and funny towards each other every step of the way”. “To me, that’s truly magical and beautiful.”

I catch Ryding and Rudberg sitting away from the group, eating the photo-friendly lunch that was prepared for the shoot, and join them at their table. I tell them I want to get all the real dirt, for the fans. “For the last time, we are nota couple,” jokes Rudberg. Still, they’re in fairly constant communication, texting, calling, sending random Snapchats (recently, Rudberg sent an unprompted Snap of a squirrel). They’ll text to ask each other what they’re wearing to an event, or how long they plan on staying. Normal stuff, really.

There’s been just one downside to this closeness. It emerged while filming season two, during their romantically- charged scenes (which, let’s face it, is any scene in which the duo appears together). “We were going to do these scenes that were dramatic, and we couldn’t do it,” says Ryding. “In the beginning, we would just laugh.”

The thing they admire most in each other? “You project self-confidence,” Ryding says to Rudberg. “And you trust yourself and you stand up for what you think is right, no matter what.” Rudberg admires Ryding’s “hard work.” “You’re really a hard worker,” he says.

“This is like couples therapy,” says Ryding. “I like Omar’s curls.”

If one member of the cast is most ready, willing and prepared to embrace the hype, it’s Rudberg. Miraculously, despite his soaring music career and starring role in a hit Netflix series, he remains almost impossibly sweet. He’s here for all of it – the followers, the increased attention on his music, the fashion. “I’m sitting here wearing Louis Vuitton,” he says, smiling. “That’s crazy.”

#I needed this for personal reasons!#This interview is 🥰🥰🥰#Okay 22nd I AM WATCHING YOU #vouge scandinavia #young royals #omar rudberg #edvin ryding #malte gårdinger #nikita uggla #frida argento

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

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bb / gg, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Jeon Jungkook is the lead singer in a rock band and failed his Biology class last semester, so he has to take remedial classes over the summer. You're the Biology TA, double major in Psychology and Biology, watching him freak out over his make-up exam because he had overslept. Both of you are surrounded by rumors. Does the title stand for bad boy / good girl or bad bitch / good guy? Who knows.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; not the healthiest dynamic tbh; slight angst due to perceived unrequited love; smut (fem reader, D/s dynamics, begging, scratching / marking, choking, handjob (he is still wearing underwear), multiple orgasms, cowgirl, hair pulling, edging / orgasm denial, cock ring usage, m-masturbation, cum-eating); non-idol!BTS – rock singer, sub!Jungkook x studious, dom!reader

yes, it's SOWOOZOO JK, both the first yellow tropical look and the shredded black shirt look; for those who wanted him to be dom!JK, there is a moment when he is but not in the way you think because that's how I operate

Jeon Jungkook was a bad boy.

Wore too much black, dyed his hair too much, had tattoos, always had girls hanging around him. Sang in a rock band on the weekends, played electric guitar, played the game of how-many-numbers-can-I-get tonight? Never gave a girl his leather jacket to wear but was happy to buy her a drink and flirt with her until she got hot with arousal.

You were a good girl.

Always wore a blazer. Crisp white dress shirt and pleated skirt underneath, usually in a dark color. Sensible heels, but always heels. Did too many units a semester because you were double majoring in psychology and biology. Always arrived to class early, always turned in your assignments on time, always turned in your tests early and aced that shit. Took physics with calculus even though you didn’t have to because it was the harder one and you wanted a challenge.

Against the wall, shoving a fist into the neck, lips to lips, teeth snapping, hand travelling down, whimpering pleas and harsh growls, keep crying, I like it, ecstasy and pain, nails to skin. Tearing clothes off, biting, marking, I own you, and then, yes, you do, mouth and tongue, aching pleasure, cocked eyebrow, mocking the pathetic whines and cries, stopping right before the end, no, please, I’ve been good, and, you take what you get, hand fitting onto the neck, squeezing the sides, eyes rolling back, skin to skin, bruising slaps that would be seen tomorrow in the mirror, traced with shaking fingers and pants of an open mouth, moaning at the memory of sky-high pleasure while lightheaded and thoughtless, desperate to do it again.

There was a rumor.

Everyone liked Jeon Jungkook. He had two smiles, an endearing one and a teasing one. Both encapsulated the kind of person he was, honest and playful. He always sang with conviction, he rapped with savagery, and his lyrics were always from the heart. He always hung out with his bandmates after their performances at bars and interacted with those that came up to him. No one ever said Jungkook was mean or rude in any way.

And yet.

There was a rumor.

A rumor that Jeon Jungkook was taken.

He was the kind of guy that always made sure a drunk girl got home safe even though he didn’t know them. Paid for their taxi and everything. He focused a lot on his music and writing lyrics he thought would connect with others while taking into account his band members. He always told the truth if a girl confessed to him, saying he wasn’t looking right now, that he was very sorry if she thought otherwise, that there was someone he was already interested in.

“Oi.”

You slammed a hand onto the tabletop and Jeon Jungkook jumped, the shredded black shirt he was wearing falling down his shoulder, revealing his ink black tattoos on his tan skin. He was wearing a black tank top underneath.

“What’s with you? You missed the exam for your remedial class and you’ve spent the past ten minutes spacing out at your make-up exam,” you barked, pointing to his empty exam sheet. “You haven’t even filled out you name.”

Jungkook swallowed hard. “S… Sorry.”

You frowned. Why was he apologizing to you? Honestly, why did you sign up for this summer TA position again? Oh, right, money and credits. Hmph. It was really just an excuse for the professor to slack off while you did the tedious things like grading and watching over idiots that skipped class. Sorry, overslept. Hung over, probably, since this was the Jeon Jungkook. Rockstar, hottie, famous in his own way.

Whatever.

He could be Jesus Christ and you would still be scolding him for missing his remedial Biology exam.

“Fill out your name so at least I can fail you properly.”

Not that it mattered, since you knew who he was. He didn’t know you knew who he was, and you had zero incentive to inform him that you were indeed aware of the existence of black-haired, tattooed, chiseled-jaw, sparkly-eyed Jeon Jungkook, all due to the constant snide remarks that followed you in your wake.

You wouldn’t be such a bitch if a guy like Jeon Jungkook put you in your place.

Who the fuck was Jeon Jungkook?

This guy, this weirdo about to fail his fucking Biology exam in front of your face.

Impatiently, you rolled up the sleeves of your gray blazer and grabbed a chair, dragging it up to the table. You snapped the chair down and sat in it, smoothing your skirt. You liked to be neat. Even though university didn’t have a uniform, you liked to keep some sort of uniform for yourself. There was a sense of security in knowing you didn’t have to select an outfit every morning. Today, white dress shirt, gray blazer, pleated black skirt that hit slightly higher than mid-thigh. Every other outfit was some variation of this and, in the winter, you wore thick stockings.

You clicked your heels together under the table sharply.

He flinched at the sound.

Jungkook wasn’t looking at you. He was mumbling at his paper.

“I… I think I studied the wrong chapters…”

You clicked your tongue. Jeez.

His hand was shaking so bad that his pen was practically vibrating. You leaned over the table, grabbing his fist to still it.

“Stop.”

Your bare knees hit his bare knees, mostly because he was wearing black jeans with giant holes in them. Jungkook froze, head snapping up, silver earrings jangling, black hair flying, undercut visible for a second.

“You want to pass this class or what?”

He nodded quickly in response.

“Good. I want to get out of here. Keep your mouth shut. Answer to the first question is A.”

His eyes widened.

“Are you… helping me cheat?” he whispered, terrified.

You cocked your head, letting go of his hand. “You said you studied the wrong chapters. I’m not spending forty-five minutes of my life to watch you panic and then ten minutes more failing you,” you replied lowly, dangerous edge to your voice.

“I… couldn’t… I mean…”

You shoved his knees open with yours, narrowing your eyes as he yelped, pleading look in those brown doe eyes. You pressed your knees on the inside of his thighs, keeping them open.

“Answer to the second question is C.”

When Jungkook didn’t move, you reached over and cupped his chin. Felt his racing heartbeat pounding through his veins, coursing through your fingertips. Stared deep into those eyes, lowering the octave of your voice, keeping his thighs spread for you under the table.

“Listen to me,” you murmured softly. “Okay, Jungkook?”

“O… Okay…”

And he did.

There was a rumor.

Nobody liked you. Maybe it was because of your high scores ruining the class test average. Maybe it was the dismissive way you spoke to people, almost demeaning. Most likely it was a combination of the two. Students talked behind your back all the time, spreading rumors. Friends? What friends? You had an average of twenty class credits a semester. You didn’t have time to make friends. And besides, why try to make friends when clearly nobody wanted to be your friend?

And yet.

There was a rumor.

You ignored such things. You didn’t need such distractions.

“It would be too suspicious if you got full marks. This score is high enough.”

“O… Okay…”

“Get on the table.”

Jungkook scrambled on the wooden tabletop as you pushed his exam aside. You were still sitting in your chair. Your head tilted, eyebrow lifting at his speedy response to your rather suspicious request.

“You listened.”

He blinked at you. “Uh… yeah?”

Silence.

“Why?” you finally said.

Jungkook gulped. “Be… because you asked,” he mumbled, knees on the table, hands clutching his knees.

“You can just walk out and report me.”

He shook his head quickly, black hair flying everywhere. “I don’t want to.”

Your other eyebrow raised. He chewed on his lip, a flash of pink tongue in his movement.

“Tell me what you want. I’ll do it.”

Well.

You decided to test his conviction.

“Edge of the table. Spread your legs for me.”

Instantly, obediently, Jeon Jungkook surprised you by doing it, putting each leg on either side of you, chunky black sneakers hanging down. Shredded black shirt open, hands behind his ass, towering over you, and yet his eyes were watching you, waiting for more, begging for instruction.

“Hm.”

You raised your chin, seeing his impressively muscular thighs and body displayed for you to take. He was so close you could smell his clean, dreamy scent, like a meadow in summer dusk, surrounded by peeking stars and blinking fireflies. Interesting.

But you didn’t need the distraction.

“That’s it. You can go now,” you said dismissively, about to push your chair back.

His legs closed in, pressing firmly into your upper arms. Your eyes flickered up to him.

Jungkook shook his head very slowly.

“Do what you want.”

You saw his chest rise and fall, his silvery voice deepening, pupils expanding.

“I know you want to do something to me.”

His erection was bulging against the zipper of his black jeans. Your eyes went back to his face. He shivered at your sharp stare. All of this was happening in an otherwise empty lecture hall, with you and Jungkook at the very bottom.

Just you and him.

You placed your hands on his thighs. He jumped a little, but scooted closer to you. You slid your hands up. You undid the button of his jeans, scrutinizing those brown eyes. He raised his hips to help you as you pulled the zipper down.

“You don’t know me,” you finally said, no inflection in your voice.

He didn’t look away. “I don’t care.”

“Hmm.” You smirked. “Bad boy, aren’t you?”

Jungkook shook his head slightly, but didn’t break eye contact as you pulled his pants to his knees and reached for his black boxer briefs. “No. I’m a good guy. I want to give you what you want.” You hooked your fingers over the waistband and nicked his skin with your nails, making him gasp, the pleasure evident in his tone. He did not try to hide it from you. “I want to be good for you.”

“Why is that?”

He hung his head a little.

“Something about… how you make me feel…” he muttered. His gaze finally faltered. You reached up and righted his chin, forcing him to look at you. Saw that Jungkook had a mole under his mouth, perfectly in the center. He had a nice shape to his pink lips. You tapped his cheek, nudging him to elaborate. “You… You’re so pretty… and smart… Everyone looks up to you because you have such good grades…”

You doubted that.

Jungkook probably had no idea that most of the school hated your guts.

You didn’t have classes with Jungkook, but you were sure he knew your name because your name was posted on the Dean’s List of the highest-ranking students of the university every semester. Also, you weren’t hard to miss. Every student moved out of your way when you walked through the halls, whispering behind their hands.

Jungkook brought you back to the present.

“I feel,” he whispered, voice trembling, gaze locking with yours. “I feel like I want to be on my knees for you.”

His skin was warm under your nails.

“Like this is where I belong, in your hands.”

You stood up.

Jungkook started, turning into a tight squeak as you placed your hand on his chest and pushed him down.

“Lift up your shirt with both hands.”

He did was he was told, revealing his toned abs and the lower half of his pecs, biting his lip, clutching onto his tank top, ears turning red as he craned his head to look down at you. You didn’t give him any satisfying response. His tan skin seemed to glow under the overhead lights. You studied his face.

Reached up and began to rub his erection through his underwear.

“A… ah…”

“Gonna make you cum like this.”

He shook his head quickly. “P… Please, no…”

You felt him swell and twitch under your hand. He was pretty big. Thick. Pretty boy with a pretty dick, probably. You rubbed the head with your palm, feeling his pre-cum leaking through the thin fabric. He wasn’t kidding when he said you made him feel some kind of way.

“Why not? Make you cum in your underwear and then you have to go all the way home covered in it. All dirty, just for me.”

His handsome face twisted with sinful pleasure at your suggestion, whimpers in his throat. His cock jerked with need, wanting it.

“O… Okay. Whatever you want.”

So obedient.

“So obedient, Jungkook,” you purred, rubbing faster.

He nodded. “For you. Only for you. Just for you.”

Was it just saying those things because he thought that was what you wanted to hear? Or was that how he actually felt? Surely not the latter, considering he didn’t really know you. You leaned over him, placing your free elbow on the table to stabilize yourself. You hadn’t even kissed him.

“You’re so hard for me,” your drawled, lowering your head, letting your warm breath float down onto his skin. “You want to cum for me, don’t you?”

“Y… yes, please…”

“You want to be my toy?”

You pressed your lips to his bellybutton, feeling the smoothness of his skin, tasting it. He moaned at your kiss, your swift tongue flickering out to that delicious skin, whining when your teeth nipped at the softness. Fuck, he tasted so good that you wanted to mark him. Looked so fucking good that you wanted to mess him up, mar him with temporary imperfections on the perfection that was Jeon Jungkook.

“Yes…”

With breathless, lustful conviction.

You licked up his abs, increasing the intensity and speed of rubbing the engorged head of his cock, the pre-cum already soaked through and creating a slippery surface, turning Jungkook’s pitched whines to deep moans, a melody that filled up the entire lecture hall until was the only thing you could hear, Jungkook’s moans as you bit his skin, his moans as you sucked on his skin, moans as you kissed the hard muscle, cries for more at you left marks, pleading for you, sweet and beautiful, clutching his shirt so tight that his knuckles were white, the black tattoos of his right hand standing out, his cock throbbing in your hand, his hips rising to hump your palm, your name on his lips, over and over and over.

“Gonna… gonna cum…” he panted, sniffing slightly, cheeks flushing pink. “Gonna cum like how you want me to, all over my underwear…”

Your fingertips touched his side, seeing him stiffen and then shudder at your gentle caress.

“Do it,” you murmured. “Show me how good you are at listening, Jungkook.”

He bit his lower lip, jaw clenching, squeezing his eyes shut, tipping his head back into the tabletop, whining your name in his chest, your palm working him, slick and hot and hard, pulsating under your roughness. With a sharp moan, his lower lip popped out of his teeth, dark red and swollen, small mole quivering.

“F-Fuck…!”

You felt it and heard it, the unmistakable jolt and squelch as his orgasm splattered inside his boxer briefs, drenching the fabric, drenching your hand, his embarrassed whines as he realized what he had done but still humping your hand, forcing out every last twitch of dribbling cum, causing you to smear it everywhere, coating the sensitive head and adding to the pleasure, his cheeks flushed red, eyes squeezed shut to savor the pleasure and avoid looking at you.

“Shh…”

You crawled onto the table, still holding his cock through his soiled underwear, squeezing it, free hand slipping under his head and lifting him, his eyes weakly opening, scared and anxious, but all you did was lean down and kiss him, pressing your lips to that pure softness, exhaling his name into his mouth, his scent staining your hand, his cologne filling your nose, your whisper in his throat.

“Time for you to go home.”

Jungkook thought you would tell everyone.

You did no such thing.

Instead, you ignored him.

He would see you three times a week and, three times a week, you arrived with the professor and left with the professor. Jungkook tried much harder to attend classes, but you seemed not to care either way. He would come to the front and collect his assignment and find that you had marked it up exactly like everyone else, red marks all over his incorrect answers. You didn’t even look in his direction.

The next exam was coming up quickly.

Part of him considered skipping exam day to have one-on-one time with you again.

“Jungkook.”

He jumped, jerking his head towards the hall, confused. Somehow, he had heard your voice. Or rather, did he imagine it? His teeth sunk into his lip, placing a hand on his forehead, confused. His head was confused. He couldn’t think straight. Why had he done such an embarrassing thing with you? Even you had told him to leave and report you. But Jungkook just couldn’t. Not then and not now. He had asked for it.

He still wanted it.

Nobody knew. Everybody thought he was a cocky, womanizing playboy. And he was, but not because of the sex. It was only because he was bored and that was all he could get. There was power in being on top.

And there was power in letting go.

You were bad for him.

He was a good guy.

You were a bad bitch.

And nobody knew.

A hand slapped down on his shoulder and yanked him around, the loose short sleeves of his yellow tropical shirt flaring out, making his sunglasses rattle on his face. You narrowed your eyes at him. Instant shivers down his spine at your stern gaze.

“Are you deaf?” you snapped. “I’ve been calling your name for the past minute.”

“I… S-Sor–”

You waved a hand dismissively, grabbing his right hand and slapping down a post-it into it.

“Chapters for the exam, including the date and time. Do not miss it this time. I will not let you make it up and fail you on the spot.”

You turned on your heel, letting go of his hand.

His left one shot out and circled around your arm, his rings pressing into your skin.

“Wait.”

You jerked your head towards him, glaring sharply. “Don’t touch me.”

And you yanked your arm out of his grasp, but his legs made the choice for him, following your swift strides, his backpack hanging off one shoulder, clutching the post-it and his last strands of sanity.

“Please, wait.”

“What?” was your curt response, not looking back at him.

“Please do it again,” he gasped breathlessly, unable to stop himself.

“Do what?”

“Have your way with me.”

You stopped walking.

Jungkook walked straight into your back and banged his nose on your head. He winced, stepping back and rubbing it gingerly. He didn’t register you turning around until it was too late and you were right in his face. You raised your chin and eyebrow simultaneously.

“No.”

He blinked rapidly, his tinted sunglasses halfway down the bridge of his nose.

“W… Why? Did you not like it? Was… was I bad?”

You let out an amused scoff.

The side of your lips curved upwards.

He had made you smile, even if only a little bit. Just that small thing was enough to feed his courage.

“I…” Jungkook coughed, clearing his throat before he spoke again, voice still a soft whisper in his embarrassment even though no one was around to eavesdrop. “I can be better. I can do better.”

Silence.

He thought you were going to walk away again.

You reached up and plucked his glasses off his nose. Folded them neatly and tucked them in his tropical shirt pocket. Then your eyes found his again and he knew something was different. He could see you clearly now, his vision no longer clouded by sienna.

Now, Jungkook could no longer stop it.

He could feel it all over him, coursing through his veins, arousal like fire. Something about you and something about him. Jungkook could sense the danger, but he didn’t want to run even though he knew he should. He had heard the rumors surrounding you. They could be true.

And yet.

“I want it,” Jungkook breathed, inviting himself into the danger. “I want you. I want to be your toy.”

Your discerning expression didn’t change.

You reached up and gripped his chin, digging your nails into his soft skin.

He whimpered in his chest, moving closer to you.

“What’s my name?”

His brows furrowed, saying your name hesitantly.

You pulled his chin down so he was eye-level.

“Next time you say my name, I will be choking it out of you.”

Everyone thought Jeon Jungkook was the kind of guy to grip your wrist with his left hand and your throat in his right, his lips against your ear and his sweaty chest against your back as you slapped your ass into his crotch and fucked yourself with his rock-hard cock, his smirk in your ear as he provided you with a certain type of encouragement.

“That’s right, you want this dick, don’t you? Show me. Prove to me you want it.”

His fingertips tightening against the sides of your neck, listening to your pathetic cries and moans as you tried to squirm against him, brain running out of oxygen due to lack of blood, running out of thoughts, running out of pleas as Jungkook gripped your wrist, deep snarl against your hair as he roughly finished himself off using your body because that’s all you were, someone to be used by him and nothing more, neck suddenly released with a breathless gasp and shoved face first into the sheets with his right hand splayed on your back, his tattoos and your orgasm crashing down on you, his growls staining the air and a fierce jerk of his hips to spill into your tight hole and leave you moments after, nothing but a discarded toy in his eyes.

You thought.

That was what everyone thought when Jeon Jungkook stood on stage, flipping his dark violet microphone between verses and smirking like a devil, truly in command of every thought and every pair of eyes on him, surrounded by a heavy bass line and deafening drums, guitar solo tearing through the moment to emphasize the next of his lips nearing the mic again, entrancing the crowd with his beautiful lips and talented tongue.

No one knew.

You were riding him hard and fast, torn condom wrappers and used condoms littering his bed, back-to-back orgasms, his head pressed into his pillows, your hand around his neck, the other leaving long lines down his chest, scratching him so hard that it dotted red, blooming lines of pain.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop, f-fuck…”

Jungkook was hoarsely whispering, clutching his sheets, black hair soaked with sweat, raising his chest to your nails, whimpering, punish me, punish me, punish me, and you muttered plainly with a sharp edge, you talk too much, your grip tightening again, pressing onto the sides of his neck, cutting off the blood flow, and Jungkook moaned gratefully, eyelids fluttering, the slap of your hips to his louder and louder, filling up his whole bedroom, rattling his bedframe, fucking him so hard he was slowly sliding up to his headboard.

Your name fell from his lips in pure ecstasy, back arching to shove his whole length fully into you, thick and hard and twitching with need, your slick walls clamping down on him, fitting to him with a hiss. He began to match you, breathless, lightheaded, world hazy, moaning from deep in his chest, I love you, and your reply was only tightening your grip, your hand and your pussy, harder, harder, harder.

“Aren’t you such a good guy?” you scoffed sarcastically, letting up for only a second to let him reply, blood rocketing back into his brain, flooding him with oxygen, and Jungkook sucked in a lungful of air, reeling.

“N-No…” he panted. “You’re the good girl… you’re always s-so… so good to me…”

His eyes locked with yours hazy with lust and love. You almost looked away out of instinct.

“You a-always remember… what I like…” he managed to choke out.

You left him when you were done using him.

You pretended he didn’t say those words to you. There was no point in acknowledging the nonsense that he said in the middle of being choked and barely functioning. You tapped your pencil against your textbook.

You caught yourself thinking about him.

Jeon Jungkook.

Your eyes flickered to the clock. Late at night on a Friday. He was probably at a bar. You watched the second hand of your plain silver clock tick, tick away. You never asked to watch him and his band perform even though Jungkook always made it a point to text you the address and the time.

It was obvious Jungkook didn’t want you to be his secret.

He wasn’t really your secret either. You just saw no benefit to letting anyone know there was a connection between you and Jeon Jungkook. After all, you were just using him.

You stopped tapping your pencil.

Stared at the second hand.

Tick.

Heard the voices of the rumors poisoning you, saying the things they said.

She thinks she’s so much better than everyone else because she’s a nerd.

The only reason she has good grades is because she fucked that one professor.

I heard she dated him.

I mean, there’s a reason he left in the middle of the semester, right?

He had a wife!

Snap.

Your eyes flickered down.

The tip of your pencil lead rolled across the page, leaving tiny pinpricks of granite.

There was never any evidence because nothing happened. Nothing happened between you and said psychology professor. He left in the middle of the semester because his wife had a miscarriage and he wanted to be with her. It had nothing to do with you. You had long discussions with him about life and existentialism, hanging out during his office hours.

Sometimes, you felt bad.

Had you kept him from his wife? Would it have not happened if he just skipped his office hours and didn’t spend them talking to you? These were irrational, foolish thoughts. They made you guilty even when there was nothing to be guilty about.

He was a nice guy, mid-thirties. Everyone liked this professor.

They blamed you because they didn’t know.

Only you knew, because he told you with tears in his eyes and thanked you for being his student.

You didn’t tell anyone, because he did not owe you an explanation and you were not going to divulge someone’s personal business that they had shared with you in confidence. You watched your reputation crumble and fall apart, watched friends ostracize you, because you didn’t tell them anything and they didn’t believe you. You watched yourself turn bitter and hateful.

Just tell the truth.

There was no truth to be told.

You put your pencil down.

Closed your eyes.

Remembered Jungkook’s face.

Your hands were in his hair, pulling hard. His hot breath was in your face, arms shaking as he held himself up, fucking you into his mattress with whines in his chest, begging you, begging you, begging you.

“P-Please… let me cum, please…”

You liked to watch the sweat clinging to his high cheekbones and neck, jaw glistening with tension, feeling his strong body between your legs, his twitching hardness sliding into you repeatedly in rough, hard smacks, squeezing him every time he was fully sheathed inside you, vibrations coursing through you every time he came down.

“Not until I’m done,” you growled and he whimpered, pleading look in those brown doe eyes, black pupils expanded, unable to cum because a vibrating cock ring was restricting his orgasm, keeping him hard but unable to climax, sending thundering pleasure through him and into you. He watched helplessly as you gripped his hair, hissing sharply as another wave of pleasure overtook you, closing your eyes to savor it, savor his swollen cock twitching inside you as he felt the intense massage of your pussy walls closing around him, throbbing around the head and driving him insane, moaning pathetically because he couldn’t follow suit no matter how desperate he was.

Jungkook didn’t ask if you were done.

He just kept going because you told him he couldn’t cum until you were done.

And you didn’t say you were done.

You stared into those brown orbs, hazy with lust and full of conviction to be good for you.

Desperate to be the best and the only one, not knowing there was no one else because no one else wanted you like the way Jeon Jungkook wanted you.

“Pull out.”

“B-But…”

“You heard me,” you exhaled, throbs of pleasure still trembling through you. Your hands slid down, cupping his chin, nails digging into his sweaty cheeks. “Obey.”

With a pained whine, Jungkook obeyed, pulling out of you, his cock covered in your juices, wearing a condom and the black cock ring. You reached over with one hand to press the button on the remote to turn in off.

“Take it all off. Let me see your cock.”

He reached down and slowly pulled the cock ring off, taking the condom with it, whimpering at the sensitivity, his tone hitting a lovely pitched groan as the silicone squeezed the base of the head. His whole body was shaking as it fell from his hands, the veins on his length standing out, head purple-red and angry, white pre-cum slowly beading at the tip, and his face, looking down at you, waiting for your next move.

Cock waiting to be used.

You tapped your chest.

“Cum on my tits.”

“B-But–”

You cut him off.

“You’re going to cum on my tits and then you’re going to lick it off while I watch.”

He listened.

Jungkook straddled your waist with his thighs, muscular and defined, right hand wrapping around his cock, sweat making the tattoos on his forearm and shoulder glow in the low light, smelling like sex and musk, his core tightening as he touched his overstimulated length, using the lube of the condom and his own pre-cum to add to the pleasure as he began to stroke himself, moaning as you lifted your hands and cupped your breasts, pushing them together, his eyes on the curve of your cleavage and points of your hard nipples sticking out, and then your face, an indifferent look with a cocked eyebrow, taunting him, unimpressed by his timid grip on his cock, so he squeezed harder, tighter, embarrassing cries falling from his mouth, living for the smirk that slowly began to form on your lips.

It empowered him somehow, that smirk, the little inkling of satisfaction that Jungkook wanted, needed, craved, knowing he was doing well, being good, furiously pumping his aching cock over your pressed-together tits and he couldn’t last, couldn’t help it, too overstimulated and too turned on, too in love with this to prevent himself from tipping over with a hot gasp, spilling streams of sticky white lines over your breasts, spreading them everywhere, making a huge mess because he wanted a huge mess to clean up, shoving the head into your cleavage and shuddering at the sensation of warmth to his scorching heat, able to feel the pulse of the engorged tip dripping out what was left, shivers up and down his spine, the words falling from his mouth that he never stopped saying even though you never acknowledged them.

“I... l-love you…”

He stayed like that for nearly a full minute, but you didn’t tell him to get off.

His eyes were closed, savoring the feeling.

Slowly, Jungkook gingerly removed himself, lowering his body over yours, tongue sliding out, touching your skin covered in his cum, his taste, mine, no one else’s, him on you, lapping it up, salty and bitter and yet he loved it, loved that you told him to do it, loved that you let him paint your skin with his orgasm and now his saliva. He didn’t care that you never said anything to his I love you, didn’t care that you seemed to pretend he never said it, because he would continue saying it when he was with you, hopeless as it was.

It was the small things that kept him going, sucking his own cum off your nipple and wrapping his lips around it, hearing your soft sigh of pleasure, feeling the tap on his thigh that instructed him to scoot up, the small thing of your hand closing in on his spent cock, sending sparks of pain but also pleasure, moaning into your skin as you massaged his balls with your fingers, knowing that he could take more pressure and roughness because he had just came, the small thing of your thumb rubbing the sensitive slit, his face pressing into your breasts, smearing his cheek with his cum and saliva, sliding across your slick skin because of the intensity of the high it gave him, the pleasure and the pain, his right arm coming up to wrap around you, tattoos cradling your torso.

“I love you…” he whispered to your racing heart under his ear, lost in the rhythm of your heartbeat and the firmness of your touch. Jungkook did not care if you hated him saying it.

He would continue saying it as long as he was with you.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing…?”

“Hmm.”

He placed his hand over the bottom of his phone and smiled at the cute girl that was talking to him at the bar.

“Sorry. I have to take this call. It’s important to me.”

He didn’t hear her response, because he backed away, bowing lightly, pressing his phone back to his ear.

“Ah, never mind, Jungkook.”

“No, no. What is it? Tell me.”

“You’re at a noisy place. It’s Saturday night.”

Jungkook pushed through the people, mumbling his apologies and straining to hear your voice over the thundering bass. “I finished. Well, we finished. We’re only drinking. I can leave at any time. I’ll just text the guys to bring my equipment back for me. Where are you?”

“Forget it.”

He opened the door of the club as the dial tone rang in his ear.

Looked up.

Your hand dropped to your side. You were still in your white dress shirt and navy skirt, dressed exactly like you were when at school minus the blazer. Jungkook’s eyes widened. He was in a torn-up long-sleeve shirt with the right sleeve removed, showing off his tattoos. His black hair was wild and half-wet, and he was wearing tight leather pants.

You clicked your tongue.

“I said forget it,” you repeated hollowly.

You sighed and turned around, skirt swishing in your wake.

“Wait, I’ll come with you–”

“Go back to where you belong, Jungkook.”

His hand closed around your forearm, holding tight.

“I belong with you.”

You stopped walking, silent.

“What is it? Tell me.”

You scowled. “It’s dumb.”

“So am I, remember?” he chuckled, his hand slipping down, squeezing yours. “I’m not very good at school.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment. Cars and people brushed past, but Jungkook was focused onto on your stillness, watching your eyes seemed to be thinking about many things. You hadn’t pulled your hand out of his yet. By now, Jungkook knew that if you didn’t want something, you wouldn’t be shy about telling him right away.

You started walking again. Jungkook was still holding your hand.

“It was just a moment of weakness,” you mumbled under your breath.

“A guy…?”

You didn’t answer.

Jungkook squeezed your hand. “It’s okay,” he murmured tightly. “I understand.”

He did not. He wanted to cry.

Your eyes shot to him, pinning him in place. “You don’t understand, Jeon Jungkook. You understand nothing.” You pulled your hand out of his and Jungkook let go, trying to hold his pain, trying not to breathe because he was preparing himself for the inevitable, the moment you were going to break his heart and, if it was right here and right now, then so be it, because he had said how he felt repeatedly and there was nothing more he could do than that.

He loved you so, so bad.

Jungkook knew he shouldn’t, that it was madness, but he did anyway.

But you surprised him.

Your sharp gaze softened.

“You know what they say about me. You have to know,” you exhaled, shaking your head. “You must know the rumors.”

Good girl gone bad.

Jungkook frowned. “About you and the professor?”

He watched your jaw clench.

“Does it matter?” he asked.

Your eyes shifted, not quite looking at him.

“Whether something did or didn’t happen, what does that have to do with me?”

And now you looked at him, guarded, not letting him know your thoughts.

“You…” He swallowed, trying to press the lump down in his throat. “You’re just using me, right? It doesn’t… doesn’t really matter, because in the end I don’t matter to you anyway… right?”

He did not want to cry and yet he did, because he knew he loved you. It was the small things, the way you never let up on him even in class, the way you picked days that were never the weekend and never before exams, the way you would brush your fingertips on his knuckles before leaving when you thought he was asleep, the way on the last time, the last time you were together, that you pressed your lips to his forehead when you thought he was asleep, running your fingers through his hair.

Jungkook was standing outside this bar and there were people he knew walking past, seeing you and him, but he kept his eyes on you, because the only one that mattered was you.

The one he belonged to was you.

He had decided that when he climbed onto the table that day.

He stuck his hands in his pockets and let out a heavy breath. “If people say things about you, then they say things about you. Whether it’s the truth or not doesn’t change the fact I love you. It doesn’t make me love you less,” Jungkook said, speaking at his usual volume, because there was no reason to whisper the truth. “Even if it’s pointless and crazy, I want to be with you until the day you don’t want to be with me.”

His smiled and blinked back tears.

“Even if that day is today, I will never regret it.”

In this cruel summer, you could have ruined his reputation. You could have told everyone the kind of person he really was and you didn’t. You could have spread embarrassing stories of the things you made him do and you didn’t.

Even if he didn’t matter to you, Jungkook was confident that you weren’t a malicious person.

You rubbed your forehead. “The rumors will come to you.”

Jungkook laughed. “So what? I heard a rumor that I removed two ribs so I could suck my own dick. I admit, I considered doing it after hearing that.”

You scowled, but Jungkook only smiled in return. He could see the tension falling from your face with his comment. You clicked your tongue and tilted your head, as if to say, can’t be helped.

“There’s no other guy,” you muttered. “There’s just you and you’re dumb.”

Jungkook blinked rapidly, confused.

“You say it over and over and make me think about it all the time.” You sighed heavily, running a hand through your hair. “I’m not a good girl. People pushed me away and I stayed there instead of trying to repair the burned bridges. I don’t even think I want to repair them. Who knows what will happen next? I don’t think it would be a good idea to put you through that shit.”

You sucked on the inside of your cheek, looking at him apologetically.

“You’re not the bad boy everyone says you are. You’re a good guy. You should find a good girl.”

Is that what you think? Jungkook chuckled, taking out his hand and rubbing his nose thoughtfully.

“I don’t want a good girl.”

He stepped toward you, lowering his hand and his head so that he was eye level with you.

“I love a bad bitch who can push me around and makes me their toy.”

He tilted his head, small curve on those beautiful lips, tiny mole underneath appearing with every smile.

“Which can only be you, you know.”

Jungkook didn’t try to kiss you. He only wanted to look into your eyes so you knew his conviction.

“I love you.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I’ve heard you say it.”

He nodded. “And I’m going to keep saying it until the day you leave me.”

Silence.

Ah.

Your eyebrow lowered and you gave him an indifferent look.

“Hm. I wonder when that will be, Jungkook.”

You leaned in, but before you kissed him, he heard the whisper against his lips, felt the shape of yours as they brushed against his, words he prepared himself to never hear from you, words that he thought you would never say, and that was fine with him, because you showed it, and that was enough.

He thought.

“I love you.”

And then your lips on his and his tears fell onto your cheeks because Jungkook wanted to cry all this time and he could not stop now, knowing that he was so, so in love with you and you finally, finally said it back to him.

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

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just-another-blog-of-fluff · 3 years

Text

A Duel Between Brothers

Word count: 2750

Ok, so this one is one I started months ago, even before most of the other fics I've written, but I never finished it. I just randomly got inspired to finally write the ending. Hope it came out alright!

This one guest stars Thor (trying to write for some other characters here and there!)

* * *

All you had wanted was to sit quietly and watch some TV. Simple, really.

You didn’t expect to walk in on a full-on brawl between the two Asgardian brothers. If you could call it that, really.

You had been making your way down to the common area in the tower when you heard the shouting. At first you were concerned someone was in the process of being beaten to death, the yelling was so loud. Then you noticed the booming laughter strewn throughout the shouts, and you breathed a sigh of relief. Just the boys again… you thought, slowly approaching the doorway to the common area.

Thor and Loki often fought with one another, so this didn’t really come as a surprise to you. What you didn’t expect was to find Loki pinning his brother to the floor, Thor’s laughter echoing through the room as Loki tickled him mercilessly. The sight was sort of adorable.

“It’s not as enjoyable as it was when we were children when you are on the receiving end, now, is it brother?” Loki taunted. Thor reached up to shove his brother off, but Loki was agile, his fingers darting under the elder brother’s arms so he’d clamp them down at his sides.

You felt heat prickle in your cheeks as you stood quietly in the doorway. You were quite ticklish yourself, although no one in the tower was privy to that information just yet. It was unclear whether you were happy or disappointed by this – you actually enjoyed being tickled, in a fun, playful, sometimes flirty way. You also had a weird tendency to feel ‘sympathy ticklish’ when you saw someone else being tickled. Of course, these weren’t things you wanted to openly admit. So, you tried to stay out of the way in the rare instances you came across a tickle fight such as this in the tower.

After watching for a few moments, you already felt tingles on your sides and a small smile growing on your face. You turned to walk back out of the room quietly before the boys noticed your presence. Unfortunately, you’d waited just a moment too long.

“Lady Y/N! Plehehease! I-I require assistance!” Thor begged. You stopped dead in your tracks and spun back around to find both Thor and Loki’s eyes on you. Loki had let up on his brother for a moment as he observed you with a questioning look.

“Oh, uh… I don’t want to get in the middle of this. Sorry Thor, you’re on your own,” you stammered, remaining at a safe distance in the doorway.

“Were you planning to use the common room, Y/N? Please, don’t feel you need to leave on our accord,” Loki insisted, resuming his attack. You took a few gradual steps into the room, unsure how best to proceed from here. If you appeared too anxious and left, surely, you’d give yourself away. If you stayed, you’d have to watch the boys fighting, and your expression may also give you away. You opted for a sort of in-between option for now, standing a few feet away from the brothers but not yet making yourself comfortable.

“Are you sure I won’t be in the way?” you asked timidly, though loudly enough to be heard over Thor’s boisterous laughter.

“Please. Sit down. Pay us no mind,” Loki insisted, conversing casually as if he wasn’t currently torturing his brother. Reluctantly, you sat gingerly on the couch and picked up the remote to turn on the TV.

You couldn’t bring yourself to relax into the couch cushions, so you sat unmoving while trying to avoid looking at the brothers on the floor a few feet away. You couldn’t help but steal an occasional glance at the pair. It was taking everything you had not to start giggling nervously as you watched Loki tormenting his brother. You could only imagine what it would be like if you were in Thor's position...

“Were you planning to use the remote? Or were you simply hoping the television would magically turn itself on?” Loki asked, jerking you from your thoughts.

“What?” You looked down at the remote in your hand, still unused. “Oh. Yes. I was going to watch some TV.”

“You seem a bit… uneasy,” Loki noted, finally releasing his brother as he turned his full attention to you.

“Brother, you will pay for-“ Thor was silenced before he could finish his threat as Loki held his hand up, silencing him.

“What do you mean?” you asked innocently.

“You clearly seem distracted by something. Normally you’re shoving people out of the way to get to the remote to watch your silly reality television programs, but today you seem to have forgotten how to turn the television on. And you’re stiff as a post.” His eyes narrowed a bit as he tried to analyze your expression, and you felt a blush creeping up your neck.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Loki. I’m fine.” You leaned back against the couch cushions to prove your point and propped your feet up on the coffee table, aiming the remote at the TV. Before you could press the ‘on’ button, Loki stepped between you and the cable box, a slow smirk spreading across his lips.

“Tell me, Y/N… are you ticklish?” Your eyes widened for a moment, almost imperceptibly, at the unexpected question. Quickly, though, you tried to regain your composure, clearing your throat, and steeling yourself.

“No, Loki. What would make you think that?” you inquired, fighting to hide the smile that was tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“You’re not exactly subtle, darling.” The mischievous glint in his eye made you jumpy, and you slowly rose to your feet to move away from the advancing Asgardian. “For one, you’ve been blushing furiously since entering the room to find me torturing my brother. And that is only after you attempted to leave before we noticed your presence.” He started to take a few steps toward you as you slowly backed away, cursing your face for having betrayed you. “In addition, you’re already attempting to hide what I assume to be your most vulnerable areas,” he gestured at your arms folded across your ribs, which you promptly lowered to your sides. Your back suddenly met the cold plaster of the wall, and you mentally cursed yourself for literally backing yourself into a corner.

“I-I really think you’re o-overanalyzing this, Loki… you’re just being r-ridiculous,” you insisted, pressing yourself flat against the wall as Loki blocked your exit, placing a hand against the wall on either side of your head.

“Oh, am I?” His face was now only inches away from yours as his impish smirk continued to grow bigger. “Well, darling – there’s only one way to find out.”

Without any additional warning, he brought his hands down to latch onto your sides. The suddenness of his movement made you shriek as you grabbed hold of his wrists. He kept his fingers still, pressing just gently enough into your skin to set your nerves on fire.

"Wait, wait, wait! C-can't we talk about this?" you asked nervously, the god leering down at you with an evil grin on his face. He applied just a bit more pressure with his fingers, causing your breath to hitch in your throat.

"Any last words?" Loki asked, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

"I- eep!!" You opened your mouth to respond, but he suddenly began kneading his fingers into the soft skin of your sides, causing you to squeal and begin giggling rapidly. Your knees buckled as your muscles weakened with laughter, and you slid down the wall as you sank to the floor.

“Oh no, you’re not going to escape that easily,” Loki teased, halting his attack to scoop you up off the floor and carry you over to the couch, holding fast despite your thrashing.

“Whyhyhy?!” you cried, still giggling from the residual ticklish tingles in your sides and the giddiness you felt at suddenly being swept up into Loki’s arms. “What did I do to you??”

“God of Mischief, darling,” Loki mused, dropping you unceremoniously on the couch you’d been seated on when this all began. Before you could move to escape, he planted himself down on your legs to keep you from kicking him as he dug his fingers into your sides once again. You batted at his hands with your own, trying to cover your weak spots as best as possible. “Now, Y/N, you’re making this difficult. Thor, a little assistance here please?”

“Certainly, brother!” Thor obliged, grasping your wrists and pinning them above your head, leaving you feeling even more vulnerable to Loki’s ticklish onslaught.

“Thohohor! Why are you helping him??” you pleaded, tugging at your arms to no avail.

“I apologize, Lady Y/N, but you should have assisted me when I requested your help,” Thor replied, his tone somber but his eyes bright with amusement. “In addition, you are adorably ticklish!” You groaned, your face burning even more, if that were even possible.

“Now then, tell me – where else are you 'not' ticklish?” Loki queried, moving his torturous fingers to your belly without awaiting an answer. You shrieked and squirmed a bit harder, which Loki turned into a game, moving both hands to one side and then rapidly switching to the other when you twisted and exposed yourself. “You’re not doing a very good job maintaining your blatant lies, Y/N.”

“OKAHAHAHAY! I’m ticklihihish! You wihihin!” you implored.

“Yes, I believe we’ve established that, thank you,” Loki replied sarcastically. “I’m having too much fun now to let you off that easily. Where was it you were trying to hide? Oh yes, I remember!” He dug his fingers into your ribs and your laughter grew more desperate, your muscles turning to jelly as he spidered up and down your ribcage.

Meanwhile, you felt another five fingers start scratching underneath one of your arms. You squealed, glancing up to see Thor hovering over you with a huge grin on his face, still grasping both your wrists in his other hand.

“NOHOHO THOR!!” you pleaded, the sensation overwhelming you between Loki’s fingertips drilling in between your ribs while Thor simultaneously spidered his fingers in the hollows under your arms, swapping between each side to keep you squirming.

“Brother, we do not want to kill our little friend here,” Thor warned as your laughter was growing silent, hiccoughing intermittently.

“I suppose you’re right,” Loki agreed, stilling his fingers against your upper ribs but not yet releasing you completely. Even the feeling of his fingertips pressing into your sides, unmoving, was unbearable; keeping you giggling and squirming. “I’m not even tickling you! Have you gone mad?”

“Nohoho, I can’t help ihihit!” you whined. Loki finally let go of your ribcage and Thor released your wrists, allowing you to breathe for a moment.

You certainly weren’t expecting to get yourself in this predicament when you’d entered the common room. You supposed you could have maybe pictured a situation like this with Thor, but never with Loki. While he did have a trickster reputation, you’d never really thought of him as the playful type.

You’d become friends with Thor almost immediately. On numerous occasions, you’d hung out with him and some of the other Avengers in between missions, showing him the art of Midgardian video games and laughing at his overenthusiastic excitement. In a way, Thor was like the older brother you never had.

With Loki, things were different. During the few months you’d been living in the compound, you had interacted with Loki only intermittently during mealtimes or in the training room. He didn’t say much except to his brother, but his sharp wit and sarcastic sense of humor had drawn you to him, and not in a familial sense. It was odd, really; you had only said a few words to him here and there, and yet you felt yourself falling for him hard and fast. There had been just a few longer conversations that you treasured – discussions about a mission, or a novel he was reading or a movie you had watched. He was always friendly when you spoke, but it was hard to know how interested he really was in chatting with you.

You’d been hoping to capture his attention somehow, but around Loki you seemed to forget how to formulate proper sentences. Never in a million years did you expect to find yourself pinned down and tickled senseless by the God of Mischief. But now that it was happening, you weren’t ready for it to end just yet.

You seized the opportunity while Loki and Thor thought you were still weakened from laughter to reach out and grab hold of Loki’s sides, getting in a quick squeeze or two before he grabbed hold of your wrists.

“Haven’t had enough, yet, have we? Oh darling, you’re going to regret that,” Loki warned ominously, pinning your wrists to his chest with one hand and digging into your ribs once again. A new wave of helpless giggles spilled from your lips, and you yanked desperately to pry your wrists out of Loki’s grasp. “It’s adorable that you think you can escape me, really. I am a god – do you truly think your strength outmatches mine while you are in such a weakened state?”

“Lohoho… Loki!! Stahahahp teasing!” you pleaded.

You hadn’t noticed Thor’s absence above your head until you felt a large hand wrap around your ankle. You shrieked as a finger traced the bottom of your foot, tugging your leg to pull out of Thor’s grasp.

“Brother, what in the nine realms are you doing to make her thrash so much?” Loki asked, turning to look back at Thor without halting his attack on your ribs.

“Well, brother, it appears our little friend has ticklish feet as well,” he responded casually, an air of amusement in his tone as he wrapped both ankles in a headlock with one arm and fluttered his fingers up and down both soles simultaneously with his free hand.

“GUHUHUYS!! I CAHAHAN’T!!” you shrieked through wild laughter.

“I suppose we should let up so our dear mortal can breathe,” Loki pondered aloud, slowing his fingers to simply scratch at the bottom of your ribs. Thor released your ankles as well, returning to your side so he could grin down at you with endearment. You pushed Loki’s wrists away from your torso so you could curl up and wrap your arms around your ribcage, residual giggles still bubbling from your chest.

“Rehehe… remind me not to walk in on a tickle fight between you boys ever again,” you mused, chest heaving with exertion.

“A poor decision, really,” Loki agreed, smirking down at you.

“Brother, we should allow Lady Y/N to watch her television program, now that we’ve finished tormenting the poor girl,” Thor urged, tugging on Loki’s arm.

“Wait!” You sat up, stopping them before they turned to walk out of the room. “I… uh… I don’t mind if you guys want to stay and hang out. Watch a movie or something..?”

Loki looked at you with surprise and confusion written across his face. If you hadn’t known any better, you’d have thought that just maybe you saw a hint of red tinged across his sharp cheekbones. Thor smiled, glancing over at you, then back up at his brother.

“I do apologize, but I have a prior engagement I must attend,” Thor responded woefully. “However, Loki would most certainly love to keep you company, wouldn’t you brother?” Loki shot him a wide-eyed look as Thor pounded his large hand against the back of his shoulder, causing him to lurch forward a bit from the impact. Thor’s smirk never faltered, his eyebrows elevating ever so slightly as he held Loki’s stare.

“I would like that,” you said after a moment, breaking the silence. Loki’s head turned to look at you, and upon seeing your pleading eyes staring up at him, his face broke out into a genuine smile.

“Well, who am I to say no, then?” He took a seat beside you on the couch as you aimed the remote at the TV, searching through the movie list. Thor bade you goodbye as he ducked out of the room, leaving you alone with the handsome trickster sitting beside you.

The opening credits began scrolling across the screen. Maybe it was the residual adrenaline from having been tickle tortured only moments before, but a surge of bravery ran through you, and you leaned your head against Loki’s shoulder. You were rewarded with a gentle laugh, vibrating from deep in his chest. He wrapped his arm around you and tugged you closer, his hand resting against your side. You flinched as his fingers twitched, digging slightly into your skin.

“Sorry, love – I couldn’t resist,” he chuckled in response to the playful glare you shot at him. He moved his hand to rest on your arm, and you nestled in comfortably against his side. You weren’t sure yet exactly what this was, but you most definitely liked where it was headed.

#loki tickle #tickle fluff #ticklish!reader #tickle fic #marvel tickle #ler!loki #ler!thor #lee!reader

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atlafan · 4 years

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Je T’aime - One Shot

a/n: Bonsoir! I’m back on my French bullshit! Harry is the head chef at a five start restaurant, and he unfortunately has a new manager coming in: Ariel Bardin. They don’t start off on the right foot, and it just gets worse from there. How will they learn to work together? Read to find out! (not proofread) Support me here if you’re able! FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY PLEASE REBLOG, DON’T JUST LIKE, REBLOG REBLOG REBLOG! LEAVE ME LITTLE NOTES IN THE TAGS, GIVE ME FEEDBACK! I’M BEGGING YALL PLEASE THROW A BITCH A BONE I DO THIS ALL FOR YOU!

Warnings: light soft dom/sub themes within the smut, hate fucking (light degradation, but not really???) lots of swearing, plenty of angst, and a tiny bit of fluff, mild choking

Words: 12.9K

Pairing: Harry Styles x OC (Ariel Bardin)

Managing a five-star restaurant was no easy task. Ariel had to make sure all of the schedules for the waitstaff were up to date, double check that the cleaning crew left everything spotless, and make sure those that came in early had set up the tables as beautiful as can be. There were many headaches that came with all of it: drama with the waitstaff, customers trying to get in without reservations, large parties that couldn’t be turned away because it was for someone famous – it’s what made the previous lead manager of Je T’aime quit. The owner, who lived far away, was not happy about this news since the previous lead manager had been there for years. So, he sent in the only person he trusted to get the job done – his daughter, Ariel Bardin.

Ariel was only twenty-seven, but she was honored when her father asked her to take over. She had plenty of experience in the food service industry, and she watched her father run the place for years. It was always her dream to manage Je T’aime, and now she finally had the chance. Being a lead manager meant giving up a lot of personal time, having to step in when the kitchen got busy, running food, and a lot more. Ariel was more than up to the task.

The head chef of the restaurant wasn’t so thrilled with the change in personnel, though. He had a good relationship with the previous manager in that the manager let him run the kitchen how he liked. Chef Harry had never met Ariel, but he had a feeling things would be a lot different. He was very particular, and ran a tight ship. He didn’t want someone else coming in and thinking they could take command. He knew he needed to get ahead of things. He had emailed her to see if she wanted to meet for dinner to discuss things before her first day, but she declined. Ariel appreciated the initiative, but she explained that she wanted to meet the entire kitchen crew at the same time. Harry was already annoyed that his efforts were thwarted.

Ariel was excited for her first day. She made sure to get a new pair of no slip grip shoes that weren’t totally ugly. She put on a pair of black slacks and paired it with a baby blue blouse. Lastly, she put her hair up in a cute ponytail, and put on a little eye makeup before heading out. She had requested a tasting at the restaurant before it opened for dinner, and she wanted to leave the cooks plenty of time to get their prepping done. She also wanted to get their early enough to set up her new office.

Before entering the restaurant, she takes a deep breath. She smiles and waves to the people setting up the dining tables as she makes her way towards the kitchen. She remembers being a little girl and going to work with her father. She loved it when he’d sit her up on one of the counters because the cooks would always let her taste test their latest creations. They figured if a child liked the cuisine, then adults would too. Ariel goes right to her new office, and smiles. Arthur had kept up the family photo of Ariel’s parents. Her mother was pregnant with her when they opened Je T’aime. In fact, her father named it that because Ariel’s mother was French, and her father learned the language just for her. Ariel’s mother passed a few years back, and it was pretty devastating. She was a wonderful woman, and Ariel always hoped to have a romance like theirs.

She snaps herself out of her thoughts, and starts taking out the things she brought with her from the box she was carrying. This was going to be a great day, she could feel it. She takes out a notepad and pen, and heads back out to the kitchen towards the chef’s office. She taps on the door frame when she sees two men sitting inside chatting.

“Hello?” She says to them, and they both turn in their chairs to look at her. “I’m Ariel, the new lead manager. Which one of you is Chef Harry?”

“That would be me.” Harry stands up to shake her hand.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you. So, that makes you Chef Garrett, right?” She says to the other man.

“Correct, I’m the sous chef, it’s nice to meet you, Ariel.” He shakes her hand as well.

“Wonderful, is everything ready for the tasting? The menu’s changed a lot over the years, and I want to see if it needs anymore.”

“With all due respect,” Harry starts, “the menu’s more than perfect. It changes seasonally as is.” He crosses his arms.

“With all due respect, Chef, I don’t particularly care.” She smirks and crosses her own arms. “I’ve worked hard to get here, and my father finally trusts me to take care of this place. I’m not going to make him regret it. Now, if I like everything, then nothing will need to change. But I’ve got a couple of ideas I may like to try out, and you’ll have to deal with it when the time comes.” She smiles and leaves the office.

Harry and Garrett share a look, and follow her out. A few of the other cooks had already set up the plates for the tasting. Ariel greeted all of them warmly, and started tasting the food. She was impressed, for the most part, but she definitely had notes.

“These mashed potatoes could be whipped a bit more…possibly with more sour cream?” She says. “And this chicken…more seasoning could do it some good. The salmon is excellent, though, just delicious.”

“Chef Harry prepared that.” One of the cooks says, and Ariel looks back at Harry who had a smirk on his face.

Ariel narrows her eyes at him, and then turns her attention back to the food. She enjoyed the pasta dishes, but she makes a face when she gets to the steak frites.

“What…what are these?” Ariel asks as she points at the fries.

“French fries.” Garrett says.

“Mhm, yeah, they should be steak fries, freshly made. These look like they were frozen before.”

“Because they are.” Harry says. “They’re more cost effective. We season them after they’re fried, and they’re great for when kids come in.”

“Kids like steak fries just the same. I want fresh cut potatoes used. They’re more authentic. This isn’t a fast food restaurant. You already have to order potatoes for the mashed potatoes, right? I bet we’d get a discount if we order a larger quantity. We can talk it about it later.”

After tasting a few more things, and thanking the cooks, Ariel heads into the dining room to start greeting the waitstaff. Things felt a lot less hostile with them. Harry was fuming in his office with Garrett.

“It’s her first day and she already wants to change things! And the worst part is, she’s completely right about the bloody fries.” Harry huffs. “Steak fries would be ten times better!”

“Chill, Harry. She just needs to see how well you run things while it’s busy, and she’ll understand her place here. This is your kitchen.”

“Right, good idea. Her real job is to manage the waitstaff.”

Ariel was on fire. It was a busy night because blackened salmon was the special. She was helping run food, and the waitstaff was extremely impressed. The previous manager rarely helped liked that. She was even running bread and water to tables, starting off orders, and helping seat. She even went behind the bar to help get drinks to tables, and help the bartenders catch up. It was a great first impression. She was exhausted by the time she got to sit in her office at the end of the night. She sat with the head hostess to go over the receipts before cutting her for the night. Her last task was to make sure the kitchen was closed down properly after locking up the safe.

“Ariel?” One of the cooks asks her as she steps out. “Would like anything for dinner before start to throw things away?”

“Throw things away?” She furrows her brows. “I have food at home, thank you, but don’t throw anything out. Surely we can start up a makeshift compost before getting a real one.”

“Oh, well, we don’t throw everything away, just-“

“Can you let me see all of the leftovers that usually get put in the trash?”

The cook nods, and she follows him. Harry was in his office checking over what the most popular orders of the night was, and getting some paperwork done. He notices Ariel speaking with Eddy, and he sighs. He gets up, and makes his way to where they are.

“Is there any particular reason your keeping Eddy from his sidework?” Harry asks her.

“I asked him to show me what usually gets thrown out. This could easily be donated or used for compost. I’ll be coming in early tomorrow to set up a new compost area, and I’ll be talking with the local food kitchens to see what they need. This is good food, and it shouldn’t be wasted.” She crosses her arms. “Is that going to be a problem?”

“Why,” he sucks his teeth, “Come to my office when you’re done telling my staff what to do, we need to talk.” Harry turns on his heel and goes into his office, nearly slamming the door.

Ariel helps the kitchen and dish crew clean a few things up, earning herself even more brownie points, before going into Harry’s office. He doesn’t look up at her until she clears her throat.

“You wanted to talk?” She says.

“Yeah, have a seat.”

“I’d prefer to stand, thanks.”

Harry turns in his seat, and looks up at her.

“Are you and I going to have a problem?” He asks, standing up, towering over her, but she stands her ground.

“I don’t know, are we? Are you seriously going to tell me that you never thought of composting?”

“It’s expensive. We find other ways to stay green, though. You would have known that if you had gone to dinner with me. I could have told you everything you needed to know. But no, you blew me off, and decided to find every possible way to embarrass me and undermine me in front of my staff.”

“Look, Chef, I’m sorry if you feel disrespected, that wasn’t my intention. I just think a lot of changes need to be made. I spoke with the dining staff just the same, it wasn’t just your staff. This place means a lot to me, and I just want to make sure it’s being run well. I…I didn’t think a dinner would be appropriate for us.”

“Why? It’s not like I was asking you out on a date.” He scoffs.

“No, but I just assumed you were going to try to schmooze me or something, and I didn’t want to deal with it. Am I wrong in thinking you were going to try to work me over?”

“It wasn’t to work you over, but the last manager and I sort of had an understanding.”

“Which was what?”

“I do my thing, he does his, and we don’t get into each other’s hair.”

“Well, that’s not how this is going to work.” She gestures between the two of them. “I don’t want things getting hostile between us, for the sake of the staff. I didn’t think we’d be best friends or anything…but I was hoping we’d at least get along.”

“I don’t think that’s gonna happen. Not a great first impression.” He crosses his arms.

“Same could be said to you.” She scoffs. “If you start doing things better, then I won’t have a reason to talk to you. So, do better, Chef.” She looks him up and down, and then leaves his office.

Harry wanted to pull his hair out. This woman was going to make his life a living hell, he could feel it.

“What kind of a name is Ariel, anyways?” Garrett scoffs a week or so later. He was in charge of the new composter, and he wasn’t thrilled about it.

“I know! We her parents big fans of The Little Mermaid?” Harry chuckles.

“It’s French.” Ariel says, entering Harry’s office. “And it’s a family name. My grandmother’s name was Ariel, and my mother named me after her.” She looks at both of them and smirks. “And, Ariel just so happens to be my favorite Disney princess, so it’s an honor on many accounts.”

“Did you need something?” Garrett asks her.

“Yes, actually. I wanted to talk about Passover, it’s coming up and we need to talk about a kosher menu.”

“Seems like something for just the two of you to discuss.” Garrett says, and leaves quickly. Ariel takes his seat.

“A kosher menu, huh? Don’t you need a separate kitchen for that?”

“Not necessarily. I was just sort of thinking we could offer some different specials throughout the week.”

“Like what?”

“I’ve got a killer brisket recipe, we could offer a matzah ball soup too. There’s lots of stuff we could whip up. Oh! Macaroons would be good, and maybe some matzah bark as well. I’ve got recipes for all of it if you’re game.”

“When’s Passover?” He sighs and looks at the calendar on the wall.

“At the end of March, plenty of time to order what we need.”

“You know we do a brunch on Easter, right?”

“Yes, I’m aware.” She nods. “If we do for one, we should do for others.”

“If you email me the recipes, I can work on them.”

“Alright, I can do that. I ask that you don’t tweak them. They’re family recipes and I promise they’re golden.”

“One of our cooks is Jewish, he can work on them. I’ll be focused on the brunch food.”

“Oh…well, great, okay.” She stands up. “Thanks for hearing me out. I think a lot of our customers will be excited, and it’ll being good attention.”

“Listen, uh…I’m sorry about Garrett and I before. We were just-“

“Don’t.” She shakes her head. “I know you both don’t like me. I’m a bossy bitch that’s come in and made things difficult, I get it. This isn’t my first male-led restaurant that I’ve managed.”

“Hey, I’ve got no problem with women in charge.” Harry stands up. “You just came in like a bull.”

“Aw, would you have preferred if I pouted my lips and batted my eyes at you, and asked pretty please?” She pouts her lips and bats her eyes at him, making his mouth fall open. She smirks at him and shakes her head. “It’s too easy.” She laughs and leaves his office.

If he couldn’t stand her before, he definitely couldn’t stand her now.

It really pissed Harry off at how much the Passover food was liked. The restaurant had never been busier, getting completely booked with reservations from patrons that had never been before, but heard about the diverse specials. Then there was the Easter brunch. Ariel walked in with her hair half pulled up, and the rest of it flowing. She was wearing this gorgeous pastel pink blouse along with some navy slacks. She was dolled up for the holiday. She pumped up the staff during the pre-meal chat, and then she started running around with coffee carafes to help out the busy staff.

It was an elegant brunch, and Harry was also dressed up because the head chef usually went around the dining room checking in with the patrons. He wore his nicest chef’s jacket, and made sure his hair wasn’t too out of sorts before he went into the dining room. Ariel had never seen him be so personable. He was genuinely laughing with people at their tables, she couldn’t believe it.

Ariel was tired, but her customers were happy, and she got to go home around four, which was a blessing in disguise. She couldn’t wait to get home and flop herself onto her bed. She just needed to put the cash in the safe, and check the receipts.

“Is there any lobster mac ‘n cheese left?” She asks as she walks over to the line.

“Got a pan of it right here.” Eddy smiles at her.

“Amazing, I’ve been looking forward to it all day.” She scoops some into a to-go container, and adds a couple of other things she wanted.

“Why is that you always like the food I make the best?” Harry smirks as he also fills up a container for himself.

“I’m not too big to admit you’re a very talented chef, Harry.” She says and looks at him. “It’s your personality that could use some work, Happy Easter.” She smiles at him. “Great job today, everyone!” She exclaims before making her way back to her office.

“Man, did you see Ari’s tits in that shirt today?” One cook says to another.

“Her tits? I was too busy sneaking a peek at that ass of hers. Wouldn’t mind tapping it.”

“Oi.” Harry says to them. “None of that, alright? It’s rude.”

“C’mon, Chef.” One of the cooks says. “I know you don’t like her, but even you can admit she’s hot.”

“Do you all want to get out of here on time to see your families?!” Harry shouts. “Finish cleaning up.” He huffs, and goes back to his own office.

“He’s not wrong.” Garrett says to the cooks. “Don’t be disrespectful.”

“Yeah.” Eddy chimes in. “Don’t think your girlfriends would appreciate it very much if they knew you were talking about another woman like that.”

Harry was about to head out for the day. He was going to go home and cuddle up with cat, Luna, and veg out. He walks by Ariel’s office, and he stops short. He sees her sitting with her face in her hands. He looks around behind him, they were the last two people there.

“Hey, are you alright?” He says as he opens the door, and she jumps in her chair a bit, obviously startled.

“Yeah.” She wipes under eyes. “I’m fine, why?”

“You just…were you crying?”

“No, don’t be silly.” She wipes under eyes again. “I’m just a little sweaty, I ran around a ton today.”

“How was the mac ‘n cheese?”

“I haven’t eaten it yet, I’m bringing it home…”

“When are you headed out?”

“Soon.”

“I can wait for you, if you want…”

“I’m all set.”

“Ariel, if something’s wrong-“

“Nothing’s wrong! Go home, Harry! I’m just finishing some things up.”

“You know something, you are a bitch.” He puts his hands on his hips. “I was just trying to be nice, and you have to be so nasty about it!”

“Right, because I need a fuckwad like you checking on me.” She rolls her eyes. She takes her leftovers and puts them in the trash.

“What are you doing?!”

“I’ve lost my appetite.” She says, standing up, grabbing her purse, and brushing by him on her way out.

Harry was shocked Ariel hadn’t turned his hair white with how much she stressed him out. The interaction they had pissed him off to no end. He had defended her, told his staff not to talk about her a certain way. Then, when he sees her in distress, she’s as ungrateful as ever. He tried calming down in the shower, but that didn’t work. He tried watching TV with Luna, but he just wanted to know what she had been so upset about in the first place.

He takes out his phone, and searches her on Facebook. He figured she must have one, if not he would search Instagram. He rolls his eyes when he sees how gorgeous she looks in her profile picture. She had most of her privacy settings on, but his eyes widen when he sees her tagged in a post. It was written in French.

Il y a quinze ans aujourd'hui, nous avons perdu notre Nana Ariel. Comme elle nous manque tellement, et nos étés avec elle sur les plages françaises.

Harry only understood a few words, so he taps the translate button: Fifteen years ago today, we lost our Nana Ariel. How we miss her so, and our summers with her on the French beaches. He furrows his eyebrows at the photos. It must have been a cousin that tagged Ariel. Her nana looked like a lovely woman.

“Shit.” Harry sighs. Ariel was probably putting on a brave face all day. He knew her mother had passed, but he wasn’t sure about her grandmother. Her female figures were gone, and he called her a bitch to her face. He felt terrible. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

Harry gets off his couch and goes into his kitchen. An hour or so later, he’s driving to Ariel’s house to deliver a fresh lobster mac n’ cheese. He was lucky he knew her address. She lived in a quaint neighborhood. He pulls up out front, and goes up to her door, ringing the bell. After a few moments she opens the door. She was in a long robe, and slippers. Her hair was up in a bun on the top of her head.

“Harry?”

“Here, feel better.” He practically shoves the casserole dish into her arms. “And…I’m sorry I said that to you, okay?”

“What is this?”

“Lobster mac n’ cheese. You threw yours out because I was being an ass…but to be fair you snapped at me first.”

“What made you do this?”

“The Easter bunny came to me in a dream, alright? It doesn’t matter, just take it and eat it. M’sure you don’t feel like cooking after such a long day.”

“Well, you’re right.” She raises an eyebrow at him. “I’ll take it, thank you. I shouldn’t have been so short with you.”

“I shouldn’t have tried to pry. I’ll see you Tuesday.”

“Yeah….” She almost invited him to have some with her, but as nice as the gesture was, she didn’t really feel like spending anymore time with him today. So she lets him leave.

Harry was back on his couch in no time with Luna, feeling much better than he did before. He feels his phone buzz, and he looks down to check his notifications.

Ariel Bardin: I don’t know what makes me more furious, the fact that you’re an incredible cook, or the fact that such a simple dish could make me feel ten times better

Harry smirks down at the message. This didn’t change anything between the two of them, but Harry felt a little better knowing there was a bit of a common ground between them now. They didn’t have to like one another, but maybe there would be a bit more respect.

There was a respect between them, but the two still bickered and argued and made things difficult for one another. He’d call her a spoiled brat, and she’d call him a fat headed fuck, it was just their thing. No one in the kitchen seemed to mind, especially because if Harry was yelling at her, then he wasn’t yelling at them. Garrett had warmed up to Ariel considerably over the last few months. He was starting to see that she really did mean well, and over time the changes she made were for the better.

A lot of people understood why Ariel and Harry butted heads so much. They both had dominant personalities, and kitchens were hot. Usually one of them would go into the walk-in fridge, and come out much more cooled down. As the summer months started, it just got worse.

“I’m not sending out wilted lettuce!” Harry screamed at her.

“It’s not wilted!” Ariel screamed back.

“Did you go to culinary school?! You’re not the fucking expert, I am!”

“So, you’re just going to chuck perfectly good lettuce because you think it’s wilted! Put your fucking glasses on!”

“Enough!” Garrett yells. “We’ll double check the lettuce and make sure none of the dingier looking pieces get sent out. Take a break, the kids are getting scared.” He was referring to the kitchen staff, and to the few waitstaff that were in the kitchen.

They both growl and walk away from one another. They stayed away from each other for the rest of the night. Ariel was there late catching up on some paperwork. She jumped when she heard something fall on the ground. She thought everyone had gone home for the night. When she goes out to the kitchen to see Harry, she sighs with relief.

“Scared the shit out of me, what are you still doing here?” She storms over to him.

“Prepping the dinner roll dough so it’s ready to go for tomorrow. It’s been too hot to make it in the morning. The prep cooks can just come in and use the ovens while it’s still cool if the dough’s already set and proofed.” He says as he continues to knead the dough on the counter.

“Why not have someone else do it?”

“Why should I make someone else stay late?” He scoffs.

“Well…here, I’ll get an apron so I can help.”

“I’m all set.”

“Don’t be silly, it’ll help you get out of here faster.”

“What do you care about that?”

“God, you’re so stubborn.” She goes to wash her hands, and steps over to the dough, but he swats her hand away when she goes to reach for it.

“Go home, Ariel.”

“What the fuck is your problem?!”

“You! You’re my fucking problem! Cooking is supposed to be relaxing, this is my me time, and you’re ruining it!”

“Well, excuse me for offering to help!”

“I don’t need your help!” He slams a fist down on the counter, causing flour to splatter onto her chest and face. “Oops.” He smirks.

Ariel wipes her face off, gathers a bit of flour, and flicks it into Harry’s face. He takes a deep breath and looks at her.

“Oops.” She says in the same mocking tone he had.

“You know, for someone who hates wasting food, I’d think you’d be more careful.” He says, wiping his face off. “It was an accident when I did it.”

“Oh well.” She shrugs.

“You,” he starts walking towards her, backing her up to the opposite counter, “are one of the most infuriating people I have ever met.” They were practically chest to chest. She could feel his breath fanning over her face. “I wish you never started working here.”

“You know what they say, can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen.” She says, looking up at him with a searing gaze.

“It’s my kitchen, you get out.”

“Make me.”

Harry’s eyes widen, and his nostrils flare. He was about ready to boil over. He’s not sure what comes over him, but his flour covered hands reach up to cup her cheeks, and he leans down to kiss her roughly, pressing her further against the counter. She gasps as he does it, but she doesn’t fight him. She doesn’t push him away, she doesn’t do a thing to get him to stop. In fact, she reaches to tug at his shirt so he could be even closer to her. She could taste the mint from his gum, and his lips were insanely soft. He breaks the kiss first, but doesn’t move her hands from her face.

She opens her mouth to speak, possibly to question him on why he kissed her, but she doesn’t get the chance because he’s kissing her again, this time licking into her mouth. She pushes against him, backing him up to the opposite counter, and he grunts against her. Her arms move to wrap around his neck, and her fingers tug at his hair. Just as she was sucking on his tongue, he shoves her up against a nearby wall, and lifts her up. She wraps her legs around his waist, and he carries her over to a counter to sit her on.

Their lips hadn’t parted, and they both needed air, but neither could stop. Harry kisses sloppily towards her neck, and she bites on her bottom lip to suppress a whimper. She reaches down to untie the apron he had on, and she tugs it off. His hands work to undo her pants just as he bites down on the crook of her neck, making her gasp.

“Lift your hips ups.” He says into her ear before nibbling onto her lobe. She does as he says so he can tug her pants down. He places his hands on her thighs, and scratches his nails down them before looking at her. “You want this?” She nods yes at him. “Need you to actually say it. I’m not gonna do anything you don’t want.”

“I want it.” Her cheeks flush. “Happy now?”

“Very.” He growls, and bites down on her bottom lip before letting it snap back. He reaches between her legs, and he groans. “You’re soaked, did yelling at me rile you up?”

“No.” She blushes, and then tugs at his hair. “Stop talking before I change my mind.”

He tugs her panties to the side so he can get a real feel for how wet she is. He plunges two fingers inside of her, and her mouth falls open. Her head rolls back as he pumps them in and out of her.

“Christ, when was the last time someone fucked you?” He grunts. “You’re so tight.”

“Harry, please, shut the fuck up.” She grits her teeth and reaches for the button on his pants.

“Only cause you said please.” He smirks, and she flicks his forehead.

He sucks his teeth and reaches into his back pocket for his wallet, pulling out a condom. She rolls her eyes at the fact that he’s one of those guys that kept a condom in his wallet, but she wasn’t going to complain too much. She was glad he had one. He takes himself out of his pants, getting them down just enough, and rolls the condom on. He looks at her, just to make sure one more time that it was alright and she nods. He splays his hands on her back, pulling her closer as he pushes inside.

“Fucking, shit.” He grunts.

“Try to last longer than a minute there, sport.” She says, trying desperately not to wince at the stretch he was giving her.

“God, I fucking hate you so much.” He says as he starts to thrust in and out of her. She grips his shoulders to hold onto him.

“The feeling’s, ngh, mutual.” She bites down into his shoulder to suppress her moans, but he yanks her head back by her ponytail.

“If I’m gonna fuck you, you’re gonna let out every single little sound, do you understand?”

“You really like telling me what to do.” She grunts.

“And you’re shit at listening.”

“So are you!”

“Weren’t you just telling me to shut up?! Take your own fucking advice!”

She lets out an exasperated noise, and crashes her mouth back to his. He grips her hips as he pounds into her. Her legs wrap tighter around him to get him even closer. They’re both moaning into the other’s mouths. One of his hands leaves her hip, and he brings it over to rub at her clit. She whimpers, and starts panting. He nips at her lips, and works his way back to her neck.

“Fuck, ugh, that’s it.” She mewls. “I’m close, don’t stop.”

“Can feel you squeezing me, like the way I feel?” He licks up her neck back to her ear, and then slots his mouth over hers, not even giving her a chance to answer him before she’s crying out.

She lets her body rest against his as he picks up the pace. He was close himself, but he was trying to savor how good she felt. She was soaked between her legs because of him. He’d never let her live this down. A few more thrusts, and he’s spilling into the condom.

He rests his forehead against hers for a few moments as he catches his breath. He pulls out of her, and tugs her panties back into place before helping her off the counter. They both wordlessly work to get their clothes back on properly.

“So, uh, do you really not want help with the dough?” She asks, smoothing some hair away from her face.

“No, it shouldn’t take me too much longer…thank you.” He chews on his bottom lip. “Why don’t you wait, though, I’ll walk you to your car.”

“Sure…I was in the middle of some paperwork anyways. Just come get me when you’re done.”

Harry nods and goes to wash his hands before getting back to what he was doing. Ariel makes her way to the bathroom to properly clean herself up. They walk to the parking lot together later in silence. He makes sure her car starts before driving off and heading home to Luna.

Work was…awkward after that. Everyone was confused because the kitchen had never been more quiet. Ariel had mostly kept to herself and if she had something to say, she was less brash. Harry was the same towards her.

“Do you think we could add pudding pie to the summer dessert menu?” She asks him. “Like an Oreo thing?”

“Um, sure, yeah…should be easy enough to work into the rotation.” He says. “Good, uh, good suggestion.” He swallows.

“Thanks, Chef.” She nods and walks away from him.

“Dude, not that I’m complaining, but what’s up with you two?” Garrett whispers to him as they both work to chop vegetables.

“Nothing.” Harry shrugs a shoulder. “We’ve just…reached an understanding, is all. We, uh, hashed things out a week or so ago.” He clears his throat. “Just focus on the your beets for the borsht. I need to get started on that chilled melon soup.”

Harry heads into the walk-in fridge to grab the cantaloupe he had already cut up to make the soup with. He was essentially making a creamy smoothie, but this was one of their summer best sellers. He stops short when he sees Ariel trying to reach for something on the top shelf.

“Need a hand?” He asks, and it startles her.

“Y-yeah, could you get the, uh, shredded Brussels down for me?”

Harry nods and reaches above her to grab the pan. He hands it to her, and she thanks him before making her way towards the door.

“Ariel?”

“Yes?”

“How…how have you been since-“

“We can’t talk about it now.” She shakes her head. “Find me later if you want.”

And that’s what he does. At the end of the night, Harry goes into Ariel’s office and sits down at the spare chair she had.

“So…what’s up?” She asks him.

“I just wanted to see how you were since we, you know…” He looks away from her for a moment. “We haven’t talked about it.”

“I didn’t think you wanted to.” She shrugs. “It’s really not that big of a deal, it was a heat of the moment thing.”

“Yeah.” He swallows. “Nothing more to it than that. I can’t help but notice that things have been a tad more civil between us over the last week.”

“I just haven’t wanted to make waves, I guess. Sort of hard to yell at the guy that made me come as hard as I did.” She says shyly, and he smiles.

“Glad I could finally be of some use to you.” He smirks.

“Don’t get too cocky. I have things at home that make me feel even better.” She smirks and his face falls.

“It was good, though, right?”

“Yeah…nice way to get some frustration out.”

“I think…I think that’s how we make things work here.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, think of how peaceful everything’s been this week with us being nicer to each other. I think when we’re starting to get on each other’s nerves we should just fuck because clearly talking shit out doesn’t work too well.”

“Are you asking me to be your fuck buddy?”

“The word buddy implies that we’re friends, and we’re not. I still can’t stand you, Ariel.”

“Likewise.”

“But you’ve got a tight cunt that I wouldn’t mind fucking into again, so what do you say?”

“Harry, this is a five star restaurant. We can’t just fuck in the kitchen every time we get on each other’s nerves. That’s a major health code violation.”

“So we wait.” He shrugs. “We both have cars and houses. Lots of places to let out our frustrations.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“You do that.” He says, and stands up to leave.

“You didn’t tell anyone, did you?”

“Might have mentioned to my cat, but only because she was mad at me for getting home so late. I’m not one for bragging about intimate details.”

“Good.” She nods. “Thank you.”

Harry leaves her office and she sighs heavily. She wasn’t expecting the conversation to go that way at all. Ariel thought for sure Harry was going to say that it was a mistake and it never should have happened, but he didn’t. He wanted to fuck her s again, he said it himself. And he wasn’t wrong, the kitchen had been a much happier place to be over the last week. The only thing was, she didn’t know if she wanted to give into his request so easily. He was the one who admitted to wanting to do it again, not her. The ball was totally in her court! She also wasn’t too sure how smart it would be to start fucking her chef on the regular. It could do more harm than good.

��What do you mean you let a party of fifteen come in?!” Harry shouts at Ariel, who was now putting on an apron and gloves to help the cooks out.

“You heard me! We can either waste time arguing about it, or we can get to preparing their meals! It’s not you who’s gonna have to stay late, it’s me and my dining staff.”

“Why would you let a group of fifteen come in right before closing?!”

“Because they paid up front with cash for four bottles of $500 wine!”

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah, holy shit. They already gave us their order, so we just need to get everything out to them, and then everyone can clean up. Let’s move!”

Harry sighs heavily, but does as she says. He and Garrett get to work on the entrees while the cooks work with Ariel on the appetizers. She runs the food out so she can help out her dining staff that were trying to wrap up their sidework. Two hours after closing, the large party left, and luckily they left a huge tip. They apologized over and over again about coming in so late. Apparently they were in a production for something, and it closed so they wanted to celebrate. Ariel assured them it was fine. She sighs when she’s finally able to go back into her office. She still needed to go over all the receipts for the night.

“Need any help with that? I know your hostess usually gets this done with you…” Harry says as he walks into her office.

“No, thank you.” She says without looking at him. “You can go, I don’t need you to wait for me.”

“You’re such a hypocrite.” He shakes his head and sits down. “You tried to force yourself two weeks ago into helping me make some bread dough, and now here I am offering up some help and you won’t take it.”

“Guess the shoe’s on the other foot.” She still wouldn’t look at him, so he reaches forward to grab her chin, and turns her head in his direction.

“You’re, quite literally, the most annoying person I’ve ever met.”

“Yeah? Then why are you trying to fuck me right now?”

“Who said I was trying to do that?” He says, letting go of her and sitting back in the chair.

“Please, it’s so obvious.” She scoffs. “We’re the last two people here, you’re coming in here offering help. What’s wrong, hm? None of my waitresses wanted to suck you off?” She pouts at him, and his face hardens.

“I have never done anything like that with a member of the dining staff.”

“No? They sure talk about you like you have.”

“You sound a little jealous.” He smirks.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” She deadpans.

“You know, when my cooks make crude remarks about you, I tell them it’s wrong and to stop. Do you even try to defend me when you hear them talking out there?”

“Sure I do, I tell them that this neither the time nor the place for any of that, and that they should have more respect for you. One of the bartenders, Jess, she seems to have a thing for you. Her eyes are glued to you every time you come out into the dining room. Why not go be her fuck buddy?”

“Because I don’t want to fuck her.”

“And you want to fuck me?” He nods yes at her. “Why?”

“Because despite how much I can’t stand you, it was a good fuck and I’d like to do it again. This isn’t news, we’ve talked about this already.”

“I smell like food.” She mutters as she gets back to checking the receipts.

“So do I.”

“So, go home and shower and meet me at my place in a little while. I’ll text you when I’m ready.” She looks at him. “Go feed your cat or whatever, I’m sure she’s missing you.”

Harry tries his best to bite back the smug look that was growing on his face. Wordlessly, he stands up and leaves her office. Ariel shakes her head and continues with their work.

“Far too easy.” She says to herself with a smirk.

Harry didn’t end up at Ariel’s place until nearly midnight. It took her a while to finish things up at work, and then she wanted to shower so she didn’t smell like food anymore. Her rings her doorbell, and she opens it wearing the same robe she had been wearing the first time he showed up at her place, only this time she wasn’t wearing her cute little slippers, and her eyes weren’t puffy from crying. She doesn’t say anything to him, she just steps aside to let him in.

He doesn’t look around, he doesn’t compliment her place, all he does is kick his sneakers off, cup her jaw, and shove her up against the wall. His mouth crashes to hers, and she sinks into it. She almost wanted to sigh with relief. It was amazing how simply kissing someone could make you forget all your troubles. She tugs him closer to her, and his hands brush down her body to lift her up.

“Where do you want it?” He breathes as she wraps her limbs around him.

“Bedroom, upstairs.” She says before kissing on his neck.

He grunts as he finds his way to the staircase, and carries her up. Of course, he makes a few pit stops to kiss her, smoosh her up against the wall and lick into her mouth. When he finally does make it to her room, he practically tosses her on the bed. He starts to rid himself of his clothes while she sits and watches.

“Aren’t you going to take yours off?” He asks after getting his shirt off.

“M’only wearing this.” She shrugs. “Thought you might like to take it off yourself.”

“Stand up.” He tells her and she does so, walking over to him.

His hands reach for the tie on her robe, and he undoes it. He pushes it off her shoulders, and licks his lips when he sees her naked body, the robe pooling at her feet. He wraps his arms around her waist, and pulls her close so he can kiss on her chest. He licks between the valley of her breasts before pulling one of her nipples into his mouth with his teeth. He sucks on it harshly, eliciting a soft moan from her. He walks them back towards the bed, and he pushes her onto it. He climbs on top of her, and goes back to kissing on her chest. He works his way down her stomach, nipping where he pleases, before he’s able to lay comfortably between her legs.

“You…you don’t have to.” She says to him, and he looks up at with a confused look.

“I know I don’t, I want to. Didn’t get to do it last time.” He rubs circles into her thighs with his thumbs. “Do you not want me to?”

“No, I just…I don’t know, it’s sort of intimate for what this is.” She chews on her already swollen bottom lip. “You really want to?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t wanna suck your dick.”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“Okay.” She takes a deep breath and opens her legs for him.

He uses his thumbs to open her folds up a little more so he could better see what he was working with. Ariel always hated this part when a guy would go down on her. She always felt like she was at the doctor’s office getting a checkup. She stopped feeling like that the second his tongue licked around her clit. She sits up on her elbows to watch him. He continues to lick around her clit, watching it get a little more swollen each time and then he sucks on it.

“Ah!” She gasps, reaching for his hair to tug on.

His fingers soon replace his tongue on her clit so he lick around where she’s wet for him. He moans into her after he finally gets a real taste. She smelled sort of like cocoa butter, he assumed she moisturized after her shower. For a woman that couldn’t stand him, she sure was considerate. He licks into her, and she squeaks out a noise that she had never heard come out of her own mouth. Ariel tries to wrack her brain, but she can’t seem to recall a time where a guy had ever actually licked into her before, teasing her in such a way with their tongue. Harry was licking and sucking on her while his fingers were working magic on her clit. She had tears in her eyes from how good it felt. Her thighs were squeezing against his head, and her heels were digging into his back, but he didn’t care. He was too caught up with fucking her with his tongue.

“Shit, I…fuck, Harry, I’m gonna come!” She warns him, and all he does his moan into her, encouraging her to do so.

She tugs on his hair a little harder as she cries out, back arching and head rolling back. He sits up and licks his lips. She was speechless, she had no words. He reaches into his back pocket to pull out a condom before standing up to get his pants off. His cock slaps back against his stomach once it’s free, and her eyes widen. His tip was already leaking.

“You got that turned on just from eating me out?” She wasn’t being condescending, in fact, her tone was full of shock.

“Yeah.” He says as he rolls the condom on. He knees back onto the bed, and shuffles to sit up against the headboard. “Since you’re not gonna suck me off, the least you could do is ride me for a bit.”

Her mouth falls open at that. She wasn’t quite sure how he expected her to have the energy to ride his dick after what he just did to her. She furrows her brows, and moves herself onto his lap. When they make eye contact, she realizes that she doesn’t want to look at him, so she turns herself around to ride him reverse. She guides him in, and sighs into her ear once he hits bottom. She takes a moment just to get reacquainted with him before she starts to swivel her hips in little circles. He gets an arm around her, securing it between her breasts, and gripping her shoulder to help keep her close and steady. He nibbles on her earlobe, and she whimpers. He carefully thrusts up into her as she grinds on him. She couldn’t believe the restraint he had. Most guys would thrust up too far when she was on top and it would hurt. But this…this felt heavenly. She almost hated him more because he was so good.

His mouth moves to the crook of her neck, sucking a bruise into her skin. Her head rolls back, and his other hand snakes around to rub at her clit. She picks up the pace, bouncing a little more on him. The way he was grunting and moaning was giving her goosebumps, which was an odd sensation to feel while her skin also felt extremely hot. His tip starts to hit her g-spot in just the right away, and she loses all control of the noises she’s letting out.

“That’s it.” He groans. “Come all over my cock.”

“Oh my god.” She mewls.

Her fingernails sink into the meat of his thighs as she cries out. She arches into him, and looks up at him, almost distressed, so he licks into her mouth. One of her arms hooks around his head to tug at his hair as she rides out her orgasm. She squeezes around him so tightly that after one more thrust he’s spilling into the condom. She lets her body go slack against him as they both catch their breaths. He sponges open mouth kisses to her neck and jaw before lifting her off of him. She whimpers from the abrupt change.

“Sorry.” He says. “Know that stings a little.”

“Yeah, just a little.” She swallows.

She watches him get off the bed and throw the condom away. He walks right into her bathroom, he didn’t even ask first, and she wasn’t sure why that annoyed her so much, but it did. When he comes out, he grabs his clothes to put back on. She goes to the bathroom next and puts her robe back on when she comes out. She walks him down the stairs and to the door.

“Well, uh, have a good night.” He says, running his hand through his hair.

“You too.” She opens the door for him, and he quickly steps out. She closes it and sighs, resting her forehead against it. She hated him, she really did.

A pattern had started between them. After hooking up, things were usually cool for about a week, until they’d eventually fight over something. The cooks almost wanted to set up a bingo card of things they fought over.

“Why can’t we offer lentil pasta instead of just gluten free?!” She yells one day.

“Because lentil pasta is more expensive than standard gluten free pasta!”

“You’re such a cheap prick!”

“I’m sorry, I’m trying to save this restaurant some money!”

“We can splurge on some different options! It’s what the people want!”

“Oh, did your bloody survey results tell you that!”

“Yes, as a matter of fact!” His eyes were full of rage. They were both in his office going over the order sheet. “Why can’t we just order it, try it out, and see how many people order it? If it’s a flop then we don’t have to order it again!”

“Fine!” He throws the clipboard with the order sheet onto his desk. “You’re coming to my place tonight.” He says lowly.

“M’allergic to cats.”

“Take a decongestant then.” He brushes by her to open his door, and he slams it behind him, leaving her standing in there.

Despite her gut telling her not to go, she follows him to his house after work. They say nothing to each other as they walk in. Luna comes over to greet Harry, and he picks her up. Ariel grimaces at the cat.

“You seriously don’t think she’s cute?” Harry asks.

“I’m not a cat person, they’re no fun.”

“You just haven’t met the right cat, then.” He snuggles Luna to his cheek for a moment before setting her down. “My room’s this way.” He nods towards the hall on the right, and she follows him. He walks straight into his bathroom and turns the shower on.

“What are you doing?”

“We’re doing this in the shower, I smell like steak.” He says, already taking his clothes off. She crosses her arms and huffs. “What?”

“I don’t want to shower right now. Just rinse off quick.”

“Ariel, I wasn’t asking. Get your ass in the bathroom, now.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are? What do you think this is? You can’t just – mmph!”

He had yanked her into him, kissing her to shut her up. She doesn’t fight him on it at all, and he walks them both into the now steamy bathroom, kicking the door closed. They both work quickly to get the other naked before stepping into the warm water.

“You better have a fucking spare towel.” She mumbles against his lips.

“Obviously.” He bites her bottom lip and then steps back from her. He reaches to grab his body wash.

“You’re seriously taking a shower?”

“Yeah.” He says as he lathers his body up. “I was balls deep in au jus today.” He steps in the water to rinse himself off. “Much rather be balls deep in something else, though.” He tugs her to him, licking into her mouth, and reaching between her legs to rub at her folds. His middle finger slips inside her, and she gasps. “Always so ready for me.” He grunts, and backs her up against one of the tile walls. “Can I hit it raw?”

“Are you, um, are you clean?” She asks.

“Yeah, are you?”

“Yeah.”

He grins, and hooks one of his arms under one of her legs to lift it up enough for him to have the room to thrust up into her. She grips his shoulders as he rocks in and out of her. He slots his mouth over hers and they both moan. Her nails rake down his torso and she grabs onto his love handles for dear life as he pounds in and out of her.

“You really fucking pissed me off today.” She says to him. “It’s just pasta.”

“You like spending money left and right.” He grunts.

“If people like it, then it’ll bring in more business. It could pay for itself.”

“The more people that want it, the more we’ll have to, shit, buy.”

“I’m aware of how supply and demand works, you asshole.”

Harry growls at her and presses his other hand to her throat.

“Do us both a favor, and just shut the fuck up, yeah?”

She nods at him and he lets go of her throat, but she pulls his hand back to keep it there. He groans because, quite frankly, it was one of the hottest things he had ever seen someone do. He wasn’t going to last very long, and he had no way of rubbing her clit.

“Touch yourself, rub your clit.” He says into her ear, his breath hot on her.

She snakes a hand between the two of them, and she whimpers when she touches her throbbing clit. She presses on it and rubs circles into the little bud.

“Ah, oh fuck.” She starts panting. “Just like that, Harry, shit.” She wanted to cry she was so close. She bites down on his shoulder as she comes to her release. She didn’t want her noises to scare his cat.

He pulls out of her quickly and comes on her stomach. He steps away from her and grabs his shampoo. She stands there awkwardly while he scrubs his head.

“You can use my body wash if you want.” He says, nodding to it. Ariel doesn’t say anything. She starts to tear up. “Hey, whoa, are you alright?”

“I…um…” She blinks a few times, but can’t really form a sentence.

He’s not sure what’s going on, but it he takes it upon himself to guide her back into the water to rinse her off. He gets his body wash on a spare cloth to wash her with, and then he turns the water off. He grabs a towel to wrap around her, and then gets one around himself. He picks her up and sits her on the sink counter to get a better looks at her.

“Talk to me, what happened?”

“I’ve never, um, let someone, uh…choke me before.” She looks up at him, and he sighs.

“Did I hurt you?” He asks softly.

“No.” She shakes her head. “Just felt a little…floaty for a second, like, lightheaded.” She swallows. “M’fine, I think it was just the steam. I have asthma and it can act up after a particularly hot shower.”

“If I had known I wouldn’t have-“

“I put your hand back on me, it’s okay.” She takes a deep breath and hops off your counter.

“Do you…wanna just crash here?”

“No.” She laughs. “Not at all.”

“You can’t drive if you’re all lightheaded.”

“I’m fine now.” She says as she puts her clothes back on. “I need to get going, I have a busy day tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow’s your day off.”

“Yeah, and I have things to do.” She leaves his bathroom, and he follows her out to his front door.

“Just…could you at least text me when you get home?”

“Sure.” She nods. “Bye.”

“Bye.”

She’s out the door in a flash. Harry didn’t quite understand why things were always so awkward with them afterwards. It was like neither of them ever knew what to say because they just didn’t really know how to be soft with one another. Harry scoops up Luna and brings her to bed with him. About twenty minutes later his phone buzzes.

Ariel Bardin: I’m home

Harry Styles: thanks for letting me know, you made me nervous for a second there

Ariel Bardin: I’m fine, you can go back to not giving a fuck now

Harry Styles: will do, goodnight!

Every time he was nice to her, she had to reject it. He hated her, he really did.

“You’re really liking it, you’re not just saying that?” Ariel’s father, Frank, says to her.

“Yes, Papa, I swear.” She smiles. “It’s better than I thought.”

“Good.” He sips on some lemonade. “You look awfully tired.”

“It was a long night.” She shrugs.

“How are things going with the head chef, Harry is it?”

“Yeah, um, I mean, we butt heads from time to time, but it’s fine.”

“It wouldn’t be a normal kitchen if the manager and chef didn’t butt heads.” He chuckles. “I used to fight with the chef all the time.”

“Papa…Uncle Matthew was the head chef when you were there.”

“Don’t I know it. We fought constantly, stubborn old bastard.” He shakes his head. “We still argue about recipes to this day.” He laughs. “Tell me, are you still planning to do the staff appreciation shindig at the end of the summer?”

“Course I am. Hotel’s booked and everything. It’s going to be a fabulous evening.” Ariel smiles. “The dining staff are really excited.”

“Good, good.” He nods. “Do you think you’ll bring a date?”

“Papa.” She groans. “I’d have to be seeing someone in order to bring a date.”

“You work too much, you don’t make time for yourself. Your mother and I were married with a kid by the time we were your age, you know?”

“Yeah, I’m the kid.” Ariel laughs. “I just have other priorities right now.”

“There’s really no one you’re talking to? No one that you like?”

“No.” She takes a sip of her own lemonade. “Don’t worry about me so much, I’m perfectly content, alright?”

“Okay, okay.” He raises his hands in defense. “I won’t ever stop worrying about you, though, that’s the curse of being a parent. At least let me pay for a new dress for the party, hm?”

“You know your money’s no good. I’ll send you pictures, though.”

“Please do, you always look so pretty when you get all dressed up. Spitting image of Mama.” He smiles.

“Thanks, Papa.” She gives his hand a squeeze. “Maybe, um, when I feel like I can take a vacation we can go to France? We haven’t been in so long, and I think it would be good to see our cousins.”

“If you plan the whole thing, sure.” He shrugs. “I think it would be a blast.”

Ariel was feeling a little nervous for the staff party. Not only was the restaurant closed for the weekend, but her staff had never seen her in a dress before. She was second guessing everything. Her hair was down and wavy, and she had on this gorgeous navy blue, lace mini dress paired with white heels. When she walked down the hall to the elevators she heard someone suck their teeth. She turns to see it’s Harry.

“Oh, hi.” She blushes.

“Hi.” He looks her up and down. “You look nice.”

“Thank you, so do you.” She swallows and steps inside the elevator once the doors open. Harry steps inside as well, and presses the button for the floor they need to get to with the small ballroom. “Should be a fun night, huh?”

“I’m hoping so.”

“It’s usually a good time.”

“I remember coming with my parents when I was little, it was great. They let me drink all the Shirley Temples I could stomach.”

Harry chuckles slightly at that. In that moment she wasn’t sure if she had ever genuinely made him laugh before. They had hooked up a few more times since the night in his shower. It was always the same, hot and heavy, and then awkward when they were done.

“Wait until you see Garrett on the dancefloor after a few drinks, he can breakdance.”

“No shit, really? I’ll have to keep an eye out.” The elevator dings and they both get off and head towards the ballroom. They both could hear the music the DJ was playing. “Well, have a good time tonight.” Ariel makes her way over to some of the dining staff members that were closer to her age. She had become friendly with a few of them.

Harry migrates over to where his staff was, and buys them all a round of drinks. Ariel stayed nursing on the same vodka-tonic for a bit. She didn’t want to get trashed. She was talking with a couple of the hostesses, having a good time.

“Alright, ladies, I’ve had a couple of drinks, I’m gonna go talk to Harry.” Erica says to them. “My mistake last year was waiting until the end of the night to talk to him. I’m starting earlier this year.”

“And what’s the end goal here, exactly?” Ariel smirks.

“To see what his hotel room looks like, of course.” Erica winks and walks over to where Harry was. “Evening, Chef.” She smiles.

“Hi, uh…”

“Erica.”

“Erica! Right, I knew that. You still working behind the bar?”

“I hostess too.” She smiles.

“Good for you.”

“Are you having a good time?”

“I am.” He nods, and sips from his drink. His eyes flash to Ariel and then back to Erica. “Are you?”

“Yeah. Must be nice that you have the whole weekend off for a change.”

“It’s definitely a nice break.” He smiles, and looks at Ariel again. “Could you excuse me for a moment? I just remembered something I needed to tell Ariel, and I don’t wanna forget again.”

“Oh, um, sure.”

Harry walks away from Erica, and she pouts.

“Don’t take it personally.” Garrett says to her. “Personally, I think he has a thing for Ari, but I have very little proof.”

“Are you kidding? They can’t stand each other.”

“Maybe so.” Garrett shrugs.

Harry makes his way over to Ariel, and clears his throat to get her attention.

“Yes?” She asks, eyebrows raised.

“Come dance with me.”

“Very funny.” She scoffs.

“M’serious. I think it would be good if everyone saw us palling around. Show them the squabbles we have are purely work related.”

“Harry, I have a feeling I’d hate your guts no matter the setting.”

“Just humor me, will you?” He says, visibly annoyed.

“Fine.” She rolls her eyes, and finishes her drinks before following him to the dance floor. A slower song was playing, so she figured it wouldn’t kill her to dance with him.

Once they’re on the dancefloor, his hands go on her waist, and she puts her hands on his shoulders. They sway back and forth for a bit, and it just feels awkward…

“This is weird.” She giggles, and he can’t help but laugh too.

“Why is that the only things we’re good at doing with each other is fighting and fucking?” He smirks.

“Been wondering the same thing myself.” She smirks back at him. “Things would be so much easier if you didn’t question every little thing I wanted to do.”

“Someone’s gotta play Devil’s advocate.”

“You’re not the advocate, you’re the Devil himself.” She rolls her eyes, and it makes him laugh.

“I happen to be a very nice person, you just tend to bring out the worst in me.”

“I suppose a guy who named his cat Luna has to have a soft side.”

“Oi, leave her out of this.” He pouts at her. “You’ve warmed up to her.”

“She’s alright.” Ariel shrugs.

“Those are, uh, really beautiful earrings you’re wearing.” He blushes slightly.

“Oh! Thanks, they were my mother’s. She left me all her good stuff.”

“You must miss her a lot.”

“Yeah.” Ariel sighs. “But it’s nice having these little pieces of her.”

“You know, I’ve never asked, can you speak French fluently, like, are you bilingual?”

“Je ne sais pas, dites-moi.” I don't know, you tell me. She grins at him.

“Okay, I know you said I don’t know…something…me…” He narrows his eyes in thought.

“Dites is tell, it’s the past tense of ditre, which is say.”

“Ah, right, it’s been a while since I conjugated a French verb.” He chuckles. “Remind me, how do you say fuck in French?”

“Merde.”

“I thought that was shit.”

“It works for both.” Ariel shrugs. “There are a lot of variations and translations, like, if I wanted to say I want to fuck you, I’d say Je veux te baiser, but baiser translates to kiss.”

“French is so confusing.” Harry shakes his head. “But it sounds nice while you’re speaking it.” The song ends and she tries to step back from him, but he keeps his grip on her waist. He leans in to whisper in her ear, “Tu veux coucher avec moi ce soir?” Do you want to sleep with me tonight?

“You could have at least used the formal voulez-vous.” She sighs.

“Just answer the question.” He rolls his eyes.

“Oui.” She nods. “But I wanna do it in my room so I can hang my dress up. I don’t want it getting wrinkled.”

“Do you wanna head up now? Think I’m done hanging out with everyone else.”

“Yeah, let’s go. Uh…go ahead of me, I’ll meet you at the elevator.”

Harry nods and makes his way off the dancefloor. Ariel counts to ten Mississippi before making her way out. Harry was leaning up against the wall waiting for her. The elevator dings and they both head inside. Before she knows it, she’s being shoved against the wall, and Harry’s tongue is down her throat. She wraps her arms around his neck, and she groans when he presses himself against her hip. When the elevator dings on their floor, he steps back from her, and they both quickly walk to her room. The second she’s inside, she kicks her heels off, and jumps up for Harry. He carries her over to the bed, and they both fall onto it. They’re both being sloppy with their kisses, but neither cares. The need to be close is overpowering. She starts unbuttoning his shirt while his lips stay on hers. She imagines they’ll still be red and puffy by morning.

He flips them both over so he’s on his back, and she grinds herself against his growing erection. He grips her hips and helps her rock back and forth. She kisses on his neck, and sucks on the area just below his ear. His hands squeeze and knead her ass as a bruise starts to form where her lips are.

“Fuck, need you naked.” He grunts, sitting up to tug on the hem of her dress.

“Hold on, you’re gonna rip it! There’s a fucking zipper on the back.” She huffs.

In the next second, he’s shoving her down onto her stomach so he can undo the zipper of her dress. He pulls her up by the hips so she can free her arms, and then she’s being moved into her back so he can get it the rest of the way off.

“Take your underwear off.” He says as he undoes his pants.

“No.” She smirks at him.

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

“You do it.”

“Ariel.” He says firmly. “Have you not learned how this works by now?” He moves to hover over her, kissing her slowly. “I talk, and you listen.” She shakes her head no, and his eyebrows raise.

“What makes you think you’re always in charge, hm? I let you do all of these things, you know?” Her smiles grows wider. She pecks his lips before speaking again. “Now, tell me you hate me and take my bra off.”

He sits back, and yanks her into his lap. He works to undo her bra, and tosses it across the room. He kisses on her chest, and sucks on the plushier areas before taking a nipple into his mouth. He pops off with a smirk.

“I don’t just hate you, Ariel, I absolutely loathe you.” He pushes her down onto her back and yanks her underwear off. He finishes taking his own clothes off, and he reaches for a condom, but she grabs his wrist. She shakes her head no. “You sure?” She nods her head yes, and he moves back over her.

He kisses on her neck while one of his hands roams down her body and between her legs. He slides two fingers inside her, and she moans softly. He pumps them in and out slowly before curling them up inside her, and rubbing his thumb on her clit. She grips at the comforter on the bed.

“Like that?” He says into her ear.

“Yes, fuck.” She bucks her hips up to grind against his fingers easier. He pulls them out and she whines.

“Would you relax, I was just gonna flip you over.”

“Oh.” She blushes and rolls onto her stomach. Harry yanks to her to her knees, and slides his fingers back in. Ariel sighs with relief.

“There we go.” He rubs his other hand up her back, and scratches back down before giving her ass a smack. He squeezes the supple flesh and leaves his hand there as he continues to work his fingers in and out of her.

“Oh, oh! Right there!” She gasps and starts rubbing her clit.

“M’I hitting it?” He grunts.

“Y-yeah, you’re right on it, don’t stop, please!”

She can hear him grunting and groaning behind her. He got so much pleasure making sure she got off, it astounded her. She cries out as she comes around his fingers, and he pulls them out slowly. He rubs her back as she catches her breath, and he sucks her slick off his fingers.

“Good?” He asks.

“Yeah, thanks.” She turns onto her side. “Wanna hit it from the side?” She wiggles her eyebrows at him, and he chuckles.

“Sure, if that’s how you want it.”

“It is…for now.”

He gets into position, and gets one of her legs over his shoulder. He pushes inside and watch as her mouth falls open. That was always his favorite part. She’d had him so many times at this point, and she still seemed so shocked at how he stretched her out. He rocks in and out of her slowly before really getting a groove going.

“H-Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“Could you like, go behind me, like, we’re both on our sides? Do you know what I mean?”

He nods and pulls out of her so he can lay down behind her on his side. He lifts one of her legs a little so he can slide back inside of her. She hooks one of her arms around his head so she can get her fingers in his hair, and he kisses on her shoulder while his hand presses on her lower tummy. They were grinding against each other in the most perfect way. His fingers start to work her clit and she whines.

“Sensitive?” He asks her.

“Mhm.”

“Fight through it, know you can come again.”

“Need something to bite on.” She pants.

He gets his other arm around her neck so he can get his fingers in his mouth. She moans around them, and her eyes roll back.

“M’not gonna last, Ariel.” He rubs her clit harder, and she just moans louder around his fingers. “I’m gonna have to pull out soon.”

“No! Come inside me!” She shouts around his fingers.

“Fuck!” He cries out as he comes inside her. It pushes her over the edge, and she comes with him, milking him for everything he’s got. She kisses the palm of his hand before he pulls out of her.

“Could you, uh, bring me to the bathroom?” She asks, looking over her shoulder. “I don’t wanna sleep on sticky sheets.”

“Yeah.” He breathes, and scoops her up, bringing her into the bathroom. He sits her down on the toilet, and leaves to give her some privacy. When she comes out, he’s laying in his boxers on the bed.

“What are you doing?” She asks, going to her suitcase to look for her nightshirt.

“Figured we could fuck again in a bit, it’s not like we have to worry about getting up early, right?” He says, not looking up from his phone. “Or did I tucker you out.”

“No, um, we could…we could do it again in a little while.” She knees onto the bed and lays down. “I just need some time to cool down.”

“Yeah, no worries.”

“Harry?” She asks, turning on her side to face him.

“Hm?”

“Do you really loathe me?”

He looks up from his phone at that and turns on his side to face her.

“No…just sort of said it to keep us in the mood.”

“Do you think, like, we keep fighting as an excuse to fuck?”

“No, I mean, I genuinely can’t fucking stand you sometimes and doing this helps.”

“But what happens when one of us meets someone and we can’t just fuck it out?”

“Oh, please.” He scoffs. “Do you have time to meet someone else?”

“No, I’m just saying-“

“Besides that, who’s gonna fuck you better than me? Gimme a break, Ariel.” He laughs and rolls onto his back again, going back to his phone.

“Harry…eventually I’m going to want more than just fucking someone on the down low. I want certain things.”

“Yeah? So do I. You act like I’m going somewhere.”

“I’m…very confused right now.”

“Come here.” He pats his thighs and she shifts to straddle him. He tucks her hair behind her ears, and then pulls her down to kiss him. “You really think I’d like you run off to be with someone else? If that’s what you think, then you’re even crazier than I thought.”

“Harry, you don’t want me, stop messing around.”

“I’m being completely serious. I’ll get you the big house, the white picket fence, we’ll fill it with babies, and then they’ll have a romantic story to think about just like you did with your parents.” He kisses her again. “What’s cuter than mum and dad meeting in the kitchen at work, right? We can leave out the rest.”

“What makes you think that I…that I want any of that with you?” She was trembling.

“Because you wouldn’t have fucked me a second time if you didn’t like me, Ariel.”

“Harry, stop it, you’re gonna make me cry.” Her bottom lip quivers. “This isn’t funny.”

“I know it’s not, I’m not joking around.”

“But I don’t want us…I don’t want us to always be at each other’s throats. I don’t want that to be the only reason there’s a passion between us.”

He caresses her cheek and rub away a stray tear.

“It won’t be like that. I mean, I certainly know how to make you shut the fuck up, but I think we really have this weird connection. Things always get so awkward after we hook up because I think we’re both sort of soft people, and we don’t know if it’s okay to be soft with one another, but…I wanna be soft with you, I think. I want to sleep over, and cuddle, and all that other shit.” She blinks at him. “Do you want all of that…with me?” She nods yes at him. “Alright then, quit your blubbering and come here.” He tugs her down to him all the way so he can hold her properly. “Je t’aime.” He says softly as he strokes her hair.

“Je t’aime aussi.” I love you too.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles au #harry styles one shot #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles x oc #chef!Harry #harry styles imagine

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redrosesartcabin · 3 years

Text

So yeah, I wrote the thing based on an anon message for @itsme-star

I made it a Barley x (female) reader (based on my self insert character) fanfic ‘cause I had to be a little self indulgent lmao

I hope you enjoy it! It turned out longer than I had planned xD

——————————————————

The double-decker couch

Barley x (female) reader fanfiction

———

Around three months ago:

Y/n’s boyfriend, Barley Lightfoot, had knocked on her window… with small stones… in the middle of the night:

At first her ear just twitched and the noise had mashed with the dream she was having, but the more the noise repeated, the more her consciousness felt pulled into the physical realm again, and with a groan, she had to face the reality that the noise would not stop until she got up (she already had a suspicion as to who was causing the noise).

With a heavy sigh, y/n forced herself from under her comfortable blanket, before ripping the window open.

‘Of course it’s him’, she thought, looking down at Barley as he waved his hands up at her, somehow wide awake.

‘How much energy can a person have?’, she asked herself, before she motioned with her hands, that she’d come outside.

“What in the world are you doing here?”, she asked as she arrived, whisper-yelling at him.

“Well you know how it is my lady: sometimes one just drives around at night after finishing a campaign of quests of yore and sees the poster of a double-decker bus and then one might think: ‘Wouldn’t it be cool if one could have a couch after that structure?’ After having had thought about a new couch for a while and ‘wouldn’t it be cool, if one might be able to build that with their girlfriend?’”

“I can’t say I relate, though I am impressed by one having the idea”, she said, deliberately accentuating the word ‘one’, as she couldn’t now but smile at her beautiful dork, “And I have to say I love the idea, though I still have to decide whether it was worth waking me up at three a.m… but for now I’ll just say yes, because I love you too much to be mad at you for this”

“I know: I’m irresistible”, he winked, pulling her closer to him and engaging her in a sickeningly romantic kiss.

“As nice as this is, I would still like to catch up on some sleep. We’ll write later and you tell when we should start building”

“I actually thought… you know… that maybe now-”

“Don’t push it”

“Right”

Now:

It hadn’t been easy. First they had to scavenge several junkyards for old couches (because let’s be real: They were both poor college students and buying material or new couches just was too expensive), who weren’t completely busted. Then they had to figure out how to build the thing.

After studying art for a while, where y/n had to do a bunch of installation projects, she had gotten significantly better at building things with woods and such, though she still wasn’t an expert. And whilst Barley also got crafty from time to time, he also wasn’t a master.

But somehow, after sweat, and even a couple of tears after y/n once got her hand stuck under one of the couches, they had finished it: The double decker couch.

“This-”, Barley said, pointing his finger at it, “This is beautiful”.

It was a yellow and a green couch, connected through metal poles and stabilized with old wood planks with two ladders placed on top of it and just enough space between the couches, so that one could sit up straight. It sort of looked like a bunk bed, but with couches.

“It is. It really is”, y/n agreed, looking at her bandaged hand, “totally worth busting my hand”

“Totally worth going through every junkyard in the city”, Barley added.

“Totally worth being awake once for 48 hours”, she added as well.

“This should be awarded some kind of price… maybe I’d also just be happy for some money for a wellness weekend ‘cause my back could really need a nice massage”, Barley groaned, touching the small of his back.

“Hard agree”

They stayed standing there for a while, looking at it, before y/n occurred a question that should’ve occurred to her much sooner.

“So-uhm-”, she started, “what do we actually do with it now?”, she asked

“Sit on it of course. You sit below and I above so I can feed you grapes like you’re a roman emperor”, Barley explained matter of factly.

“That sounds lovely darling but that’s not what I mean”

“What seems to be the issue then?”he asked, a little frustrated. What could she possibly have to say now? After so much hard work?

“I mean… where do we put it?”, she asked with a sincere expression which immediately washed away his annoyance, “because it certainly won’t stay in my parents basement”, she stated.

“It’s certainly more worthy than this old, dusty room with your family's junk. And also because this place is crawling with bugs that I will have to remove every time because you’ll just screech and run away until it magically disappears”

“Hey!”, y/n interjected

“It's true!”

“Ok yeah fair enough, though seriously- where? I also can bet’ya we can’t put it anywhere in our homes either. It probably barely fit under the ceiling”

“Yeah no”

A moment of contemplative silence spread across them.

After a while, Barleys thoughts wandered to the night where he had gotten the idea. He thought about his beloved car-

‘OH. MY. GOD. That’s it!’, he thought to himself.

“I got it!”, he then yelled excitedly, his face contorted into one of the most adorable expressions y/n had ever seen anyone wear. No matter what it would be: She couldn’t but say yes to that smile.

Still she asked, “What’ya got?”

“You know how I got my idea from a poster with a double-decker bus?”, he asked her, still smiling like he had won the lottery

“Yes?”

“And you know how I have a van, right?”

“No”, she answered sarcastically, “I know absolutely nothing about your most prized possession of a van that you called Guenivere the second after you sacrificed your first Guenivere when on a quest-”

“Ok I got the gist”, he chuckled, “but ok hear this: Since I have this wonderful van, this wonderful BIG van-”

“Wait a minute: You really want to put the couch in-”, she interrupted as she realized what he was saying, but got immediately interrupted back as he realized she had caught on

“Yes! I absolutely am”

“Dear lord… but ok I have no better idea, let’s do it”

“YES”

“Barley I am telling you, this is NOT working”, y/n huffed as she let her side of the construction gently land on the ground once again.

“Come on, just one more time!”, Barley pleaded.

“You’ve been saying ‘just one more time’ for an hour!”, she argued, “there is no way around: this just doesn’t fit inside the van. You underestimated Guenivere”

“Hey! There is no underestimating Guenivere! It’s not her fault”, he pouted.

“Ok ok ok... Sorry Gueni”, y/n said, giving the car a sincere pat on one of the back doors. She has gotten used to treating the car similar to a pet, “but seriously: We’ve been trying this at every angle, and as cool as Guenivere is, she can’t magically shapeshift”

“Magically shapeshift”, Barely repeated her last words, suddenly deep in thought, before an “ohhhh”, sound escaped him, “wait here my lady, I’ll be back in a sec”

“O...k”, she said, a little confused.

Five minutes later, she saw Ian storm out of his house, his hands clenched around his magic staff, with Barley closely behind him. “WHAT'S THE EMERGENCY?”Ian yelled as he came to a hold, which caused his brother to almost crash into him.

“I need you to make Guenivere big enough so that our self made double-decker couch fits into her”, Barely explained, breathing as though he had just run from death.

For a moment nobody said anything to that before Ian and y/n both shouted

“WHAT?”,at the same time.

“So much for an emergency”, Ian also mumbled, a little annoyed at his brother's antics.

“I mean: If she’s too small, then we can just make her bigger, right?”

“Technically yes but I think you didn’t consider a very small, tiny detail”, Ian commented.

“And what would that be?”, Barley asked irritated, not understanding what the issue was.

“You are aware as a supposed magic expert, that I can’t only enlarge the trunk, right? I would have to make the entire car big, and that would lead-”

“-to the entire street being filled with the car”, y/n finished the thought, apologetically laying her hand on Barleys shoulder, “I’m sorry my love. It was a nice thought”

“Dang it”, Barley breathed out, “I was looking forward to make my own uber-van-couch-double-decker-business”

“Hm”, y/n simply hummed. She had known from the beginning it would probably go south, but his enthusiasm had given her hope.

“Sorry Barley”, Ian said quietly, now feeling bad for having been so harsh beforehand , before slowly heading inside again.

Y/n and Barely sat down on the edge of Guenivere’s trunk, tired and disappointed that it all hadn’t turned out like they wanted as they looked at their creation.

Y/n leaned against Barley’s shoulder, lovingly rubbing her cheek against him like a cat (she loved doing that).

After a while Barley decided he had enough of sulking, standing up to go to the front to put on some good old metal (which luckily she enjoyed too).

As he however returned to the trunk, he noticed some ropes laying around.

He had used ropes last time to tie up some of the material he had bought for their project, so they wouldn’t move around- what if though…

“Ok I’ve had enough”, Barley decided, “I WILL have my double-decker-couch-van for more people to ride with me and my buddies and if its the last thing I’m gonna do!”

“Barley, what are you-”, y/n wanted to ask, but as she saw him pick up the ropes from the trunk floor, she understood, “- Are you sure this will work out?”

“Nope”, he answered truthfully, “but I will surely try!”

She was still skeptical, but at the same time she would try anything with him, and if it meant helping him tie a double-decker-couch to the roof of his van.

“If you believe it can be done, I will too”, she smiled, giving him a quick peck on his cheek, “let’s do this!”

It was eight p.m. The sun was almost behind the horizon and the streetlamps threw dodgy looking lights in the middle of the street and kept the corners dark.

But the elven couple, who stood in front of a yellow van with a double-decker couch tied to its roof, couldn't help but see what they had accomplished: Which was accomplishing what, at least the female elf, had thought was impossible… yet again.

“I can’t believe that worked”, Y/n mumbled.

“Told ya”, Barley hushed back.

“Should we drive around? See if anyone is crazy enough to go on a drive?”, she asked.

“You bet we are. And tomorrow… and whenever we can. I’ll be the driver and you the tourist guide.. or maybe some kinda sturdess, after all you’re good lookin’”

“Oh hush”, she giggled, visibly blushing

“And-”, he continued, though not without giving her a good wink after his compliment, “then we’re gonna show the dear people of this town another perspective to life”

“That we can promise”, she laughed, “that we sure can”

#barley x reader #barley lightfoot x reader #barley x (female) reader #barley lightfoot #onward #based on an anon message for itsme-star #anon #onward fanfiction #fanfiction #artist on tumblr #redrosessoulcabin

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burnedbyshoto · 4 years

Text

good little omega

— He was an alpha, you were an omega. Can I make it anymore obvious? He was a crime boss and you were a movie star. What more can I say? Oh, he wanted you, really wanted you, but you swore you would never, ever need an alpha.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

pairing: alpha!shigaraki tomura x omega fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut, abo/omegaverse, chad alpha!shiggy, virgin celeb!reader, kidnapping, drugging, sex slave auction, biting/marking, belly bulge, knotting, sex toys, heat, implied murder (lol rip shigsters last omegas), mind break, breeding, degradation, finger fucking, fucking in front of a crowd, modern world!au

word count: 6,174

a/n: this goes out to my shiggy stans. I never understood you until recently and now I blush like a schoolgirl when I see him. mondays are so busy, are they not? ive been home for 6 hours today wtf????

kinktober day 12 main kink: abo/omegaverse | kinktober masterlist

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You sat before the mirror, your eyes intently staring at your reflection. The people around you running around, chaotically bringing brushes and pencils to your face, the smell of chemicals in the air, tickling your overly sensitive nose.

“Are we ready?! Is Y/n ready?! I don’t think she’s ready?! We need to be out of here in five minutes, people, let’s hurry it up!”

Breaking your gaze from your reflection onto your agent in the background, you sighed softly at the growing sour and distressed omega pheromones. Oh, you realized suddenly, your nose unable to keep from scrunching at the mildewy detergent scent, they were really stressed out.

Today was the night of the biggest award show one could attend as a movie star celebrity in Japan. The Motion Picture Awards gave only the most prestigious and prodigious actors and actresses their due. A night of fashion, alcohol, and nervous pheromone pumping alphas and betas in a single room to reveal who was the best this year. Working in an industry such as your own, you had become quite the living legend already at the mere age of twenty-two.

As an omega, you grew up in a society that banned you from enlisting or attempting to join the ranks of the best in just about every field of focus or study. So that even included the area of acting. Casting Directors had always said the same thing each and every time you were forced to present your secondary gender to them all when being called back for auditions.

‘Omegas can’t be movie stars, your heats are too often and too long, they cause rifts in filming schedules this project cannot afford.’

‘We have too many prime alphas on set. Our film's projected main character is an alpha, we wouldn’t want to be caught up in a lawsuit should she find you to be too… fertile.’

‘Omegas can only be good, suitable nurtures and well, mothers. This movie just seems a bit too intense for a little omega like you!’

Omegas can’t do this, omegas can’t do that. Alphas, the pride of society, couldn’t be made to hold themselves back to your alluring scent and occasional heats. Betas, the majority of the population, didn’t feel a challenge when working alongside omegas. Omegas? Well, if there were any that actually existed within the film industry, they were for sure never heard from, or seen of.

At the age of eighteen, you had nearly given up on your long aspiring desire to become the first omega actor or actress to ever grace the scene. But just as you were ready to tell your agent that you were tired of all of the same, repetitive bullshit, a gentle alpha had approached you with an exciting role in mind for you.

Movies and cinematic films had always showcased omegas as sweet, nurturing individuals. For the most part, you agreed that that’s how you omegas were. You enjoyed hugging your close friends, scenting them softly as means of a small pack you had created as none of you were mated this young, yet didn’t ever wish to be bothered by self-righteous alphas or betas. Through many, many biology courses revolving around your secondary gender, you knew that the hormones that made you an omega also affected the brain to accept and view things in a… softer light. But unlike what they taught in school, and unlike what the alphas in society knew about omegas as they could never honestly watch an omega in heat while alone, was that omegas weren’t always the most nurturing or kind.

The week before your heat, the week of, and the week following your heat, you were always irritable, angry, almost cold. You’d flash your small fangs at anyone who dared to approach you with a scent you hated, your heat room never once escaping with everything torn to shreds, and you definitely did not wish to seek any fiber of soft love.

So when the alpha male sat in front of you, a single fang poking out of his lip as he exposed his neck in a motion of vulnerability and conceding to you — the omega — you knew he was serious.

He explained to you his plan on creating a more realistic movie surrounding the brutal truths of what being a single omega was like. Films had, after all, had always depicted omegas as being mated the moment they presented and going as far as saying that there were others means to be coupled to other alphas without actually being marked. It was atrociously wrong of the omega lifestyle, and it always made your stomach curl to see that it was an alpha or a beta actor putting on the role.

But he wanted to focus on the realities. The anger, sadness, and horrors you could face as a single, unmated omega. The director raved that you were the face for that movie and had a soul that made him come seek you out. And without so much as consultation from your agent, you agreed on the spot.

The title of the film had been an ironic one. Good Little Omega was what it was called in the end.

All in all, the movie had done poorly in the eyes of the critics. Many individuals — namely alphas and betas — claimed that the depiction of omegas within the film had been horribly wrong. Omegas were never sad, never homeless, never abandoned by society! That’s what they had all cried the moment the trailer flashed with bright letters:

AND INTRODUCING: Y/L/N Y/N (Ω)

Still, the movie made billions as many went to watch it because they ‘needed to see how horrible the movie was.’ They wanted proof that omegas weren’t cut as movie stars because how could someone who was out of commission for a week every two months be proactive on set. But all they got was a cinematic masterpiece.

You had taken a claim in the industry, one while small, that hadn’t hurt that much because you were much more focused on the fact that you now were a household name. Well, that is until you were nominated for the awards ceremony you were currently about to attend, only that it was the one from four years ago.

You were the first omega actress and now the first omega nominee. You hadn’t won, but that had solidified the step you had in the door. After that, the interests to hire you in omega roles came pouring through the door.

But you were brought back to reality when the setting spray splashed against your face, your eyes fluttering when they covered your scent glands with the flesh-colored band-aids they got for you. Alphas could never complain about you being a distraction if you smelled the same as betas.

Rising to your feet, you smiled graciously to your makeup and styling team, thanking them profusely as your agent placed her hand at the small of your back and began pushing you towards the exit.

“Goodluck!”

“Thank you!”

Shigaraki glared down the table of averted eyes, and his hands brought up under his chin twitched at his annoyance.

“Are you going to say anything, or are we going to remain silent?” he asked, his voice quiet yet heavy in all of their ears as they flinched. “Don’t think you’re going to get away without giving me an answer.”

The sour smell of fearful alphas should have corroded Shigaraki’s nose. It should have done something to unsettle the way that the young head sat on his black leather seat. But as a matter of fact, the young alpha had to resist the way he wanted to bare his teeth in a bloodied smile, his red eyes slit in his cruel lust for fear.

“O-Of course not, a-alpha!” croaked one of the smaller alphas down the table. Shigaraki snapped his eyes towards the yellow-haired croony, his neck exposed for the alpha, eyes refusing to look at his leader. “I-It’s just that, um, I — I mean, we don't know w-what happened to your mate!”

“I thought I gave clear and distinct instructions that you were supposed to have found them by this meeting,” Shigaraki stated, his voice somehow growing colder, meaner yet never once changing as his hands dropped from his chin to rest on the arms of his chair. He tilted his head, watching the pathetic alphas quiver like some scared, stupid omega. “Useless. Get out of here before I change my mind on killing you all where you sit.”

The crowd of alphas left quicker than Shigaraki could blink, leaving behind the reeking smell of scared alpha pheromones.

“Tomura-kun, you killed your mate,” came the singsong giggle from behind him, and Shigaraki didn’t bother turning around, his nose and ears sharp enough to pick up exactly it was behind him.

“They’re all a bunch of pissy lackeys,” Shigaraki simply stated, his eyes rolling as he slowly fell to the back of his chair, red eyes meeting golden ones that shone with mirth and joy. “What do you want, Toga?”

Toga leaned against the leather armrest, uncaring that Shigaraki hated his personal space invaded. The young female was an alpha, much like most of the people within this gang group, but unlike the others, she had a distinct, almost terrifying way to change the way she smelled. She could smell like anyone or any secondary gender. She often preferred to smell like an omega too.

“We have a guest visiting us today!” Toga chirped, her fingers clasping together. “I wanted to introduce him!”

“Bring Giran in,” Shigaraki snapped, his eyes narrowing with no real malice for the alpha next to him who simply pouted at the surprise — not a surprise — being ruined. Giran reeked of cigarettes and cheap body sprays that, when wafted with his distinct omega pheromones, made Shigaraki want to throw up. “Hurry up.”

“UGH!”

Shigaraki’s mouth was set in a firm line, his eyes watching as one of his most trusted allies walked to the table, and taking a seat in the abandoned chairs as Toga purred in happiness, sitting on the armchair of Giran’s chair, arms enveloping him.

“Shigaraki, how are you doing?” Giran smiled, the cigarette that seemed to take a permanent residence in his teeth moving with his words. “I came bearing some great news.”

“What do you have for me?” Shigaraki simply states, his eyes focusing on the letter that is unpocketed from Giran’s pockets and placed onto the table. “Don’t tell me you’re trying to sell me your omega niece again.”

Giran chuckled, looking at Toga, who was smirking softly, “I guess he still hates that joke, huh?”

“Absolutely livid!” Toga laughed.

Shigaraki growled, his mind and his inner alpha snarling at the lack of respect to the command of his question. He outranked them, outpowered them; they needed to respect his orders.

Giran took a deep inhale of his cigarette, sliding the card over to Shigaraki, his eyes averted, but his stance still firm. “I know you go through omegas faster than a teenage boy goes through a pack of tissues, but I think this can answer the pleas you have at night.”

Observing the card in his hand, Shigaraki scowls, unsure of how to feel about the print on the invitation.

“Say the word, and I’ll get you a seat,” Giran whispers, like a sinister god begging a mere mortal to sign over their life for something completely worthless. But Shigaraki knows his worth, and more importantly, he knows in this game he outranks Giran, who would never betray him. In the slightest. He huffs, his back hunched, and his eyes looking with subdued excitement.

“Who else is showing up?”

Giran knows the seat will be wanted that instant.

“No one who could hold a candle to you, alpha.”

“Don’t make me regret this.”

“Of course not, my liege.”

The award sitting in your hand feels almost fake as if the entire night was nothing more than a heat-driven fever dream. You had won, had actually won the most significant award of the night that an actress could win!

“Oh my gods, okay, okay,” your agent muttered beside you. Her eyes glued to the shiny gold statue between your legs. “Well, I know your heat starts tomorrow, and I’ll leave you alone for a week. But I swear, y/n, as soon as your mind isn’t a full-blown lusty heat brained bimbo, we’ll reconvene, and we will make sure you are nothing but the greatest!”

“Yeah,” you breathlessly state, eyes transfixed on the prize that felt like it could melt away any second right now. “That sounds wonderful.”

The car you were in pulled up to your front door, and you felt meek excited the car in nothing but a silk robe and slippers. The dress you had worn that night had already been put back into a plastic bag to be returned to the stylist who had offered to style you for the night. You waved with an almost transfixed look in your eyes as you closed your front door behind you, your heart hammering as adrenaline still coursed through your veins as if you had just been declared the victor of the category yet again.

Placing the trophy onto the table, you sighed in a wondrous, dreamy way.

You had done it.

You had won.

Fuck all those directors who had ever said anything different.

Still deep in your thoughts, you almost missed the knock on your door, and you figured that you must have left something in the car. Walking back over to the front door, your nose curled at the lack of scent, was it a beta?

Opening the door, you don’t remember seeing faces or even a scent of a pheromone. A single cloth wrapped over your head, and before you could send out your painful, fearful moments-from-heat omega pheromones, you were knocked out.

Cold and lifeless, you sunk against their arms, bile rising up to your throat as you know exactly what was going on. You were being kidnapped.

No… please not… not after all of this had happened.

You wake up to the sound of moving feet, sneering laughter, the feeling of coarse, hot, hands on your ass and wet, simmering tongues on your lubricated cunt. The sense is vivid. You can feel the very littlest touch on your body, the layer of scented pheromones on your glands, and slick from alphas — you know it's alphas imprinting themselves on you as a mark of a claim.

You knew about this from high school; it was an extremely outdated and frowned upon version of mating and claiming as it simply turned away any sort of pursuer who wasn’t the thick pheromone individual. You also knew it was frowned upon because if multiple individuals sought mateship with the typical omega individual, it would result in a massive, unsolvable death match. But these alphas, even with layering their scent on you so thick you thought you were turning crazy, didn’t attack. No, they took languid stripes of your fresh, intoxicating slick and growled to you, maybe, how that was how slick was supposed to be.

You wanted to move, to kick the stupid, demeaning alphas in the snout before running away, but in a twist of horrible realization, you soon figured out that despite your alert mind, you couldn’t move your body. Couldn’t shift it even the smallest of bits.

“I hope all you wonderful clients have been able to taste and smell your potential mates out here!” A loud, commanding introduction voice echoed from somewhere where you couldn’t see, his voice vibrating into the straps of your legs, but you couldn’t make a sound or even open your eyes. “As you know, we have such an arrangement for you all, the best of the best, really! We don’t wish to rush, but as always, all of these events are incredibly time-sensitive, so if you would, please alphas, please come and sit down, and we’ll begin bidding on our first of seven beautiful, fertile omegas tonight!”

The words sounded foreign in your ears yet at the same time, something so familiar because this was something you omegas were always warned about. This had to be some sort of omega mate auction, and by the stench of alphas who smelled like they owned millions and killed millions, you were in no doubt somehow caught up in one of the worst ones imagined.

Two long, completely hardened fingers suddenly entered your cunt, and as if for a single millisecond, your mind and your body were able to work in tangent, your hips bucked at the sweet feelings. Oh, your eyes tried to flutter, enjoying the way the two fingers circled the walls of your long lonely cunt.

“Please, alpha, please refrain from touching the merchandise for now, please join us so that we may begin!”

The two fingers buried within your cunt as if it was their right, slowly withdrew out of your pulsing walls, and you heard the sound of sneakers against the hardwood floor and felt relaxed and sickened at how you sort of liked it.

Heat brain, you reminded yourself. Just your stupid, horny heat brain.

You were a celebrity, you mantra, a dignified star who didn’t need a beta or an alpha unless you saw it fit. Right now, as you had repeated many times to the countless amounts of reporters who had asked, you had no interest in someone to share your heat with.

“Alright, and to start off our night in a rolling go! Please, everyone put your hands together for the fertile and beautiful thirteenth in-line the Princess of Cabodia: Dayanara!”

This auction was insane, all six omegas before you all sold from a price that ranged from 198 hundred million to the one right before you who sold for one billion dollars. You were a prideful omega, and you saw worth to your abilities, smell, and looks, but were you even worth anywhere in that range?

The entire time you had been set up in who knows what, the small, overwhelming pound of your heat sinking into the depths and pores of your body was becoming heavy. You couldn’t move a single muscle still, your body still refusing to respond to the call of your body, but the seep of your slick running down the innards of your thighs, undoubtedly beginning to pool on the ground, must be embarrassing of you.

Suddenly someone spread the skin below your ass out, and you couldn’t react as something sharp and prick stabbed into your flesh. You howled in the surprising pain, and you were fast to find that whatever they had injected you with had allowed systematic movement within your body. Your eyes fluttered open as two, impossibly huge alphas grabbed you by your forearm and hoisted you to your feet.

Your neck was far too weak to carry the weight of your head, so your eyes were transfixed on the white silk of the slutty dress they dressed you in. It showed off your cleavage with no regret, and by the feel and look of it, it barely passed the bottom of your ass. Your vision swam, the alphas all over the room distorted and melting within one another as you stepped onto a stage, the spotlight on you feeling deliriously hot and melting your skin.

Your hormones, already going crazy with your heat, seemed to intensify at the small of so many capable, potent, possessive alpha pheromones that suffocated the room. Handcuffs slapped onto your wrists, and you moaned pathetically at the sting of cold metal on your skin, and you obediently followed the command of one alpha to go on your knees.

A nail slammed between the metal links of the handcuffs, practically stapling you to the wooden floor, and you whimpered at the feeling of a stuffed pillow mount being placed beneath your lower stomach. You were in a forced and easily accessible mating position with your slick and cunt exposed for all the alphas to re-smell and see.

Moaning, you shifted against the mount, your body not able to have the full movement you needed to ward off that building, insufferable heat in your core, but nothing you could do seemed to satisfy it.

“And for our biggest prize of the night, we have the one, the only, the beautiful sensation Y/l/n Y/n!” the auctioneer roared. His voice echoing in your ear as he walked over to you, exposing your dripping cunt to the crowd of alphas who had all gotten a sweet taste of your essence already. His hand came down to slap your ass with a chuckle. “Where do we start the bidding on this one, alphas? She needs no introduction, and none of you better be pussies because we know this bitch of an omega won’t take any tiny cocks as her alpha! She needs to be broken in, fucked to submission. No one likes a trailblazer… someone needs to remind of what fucking trail she’s supposed to be on. Besides, the bitch is in fucking heat, and if you don’t claim her, I just might do it myself!”

“75 million!” someone started the bidding.

You stiffened.

“75 to the man in the back!”

“90 million!” someone challenged.

“We’re up to 90!”

“125 million!”

“Do I hear another offer?”

“250 million!”

The number climbed and climbed, the same voices coming to challenge each other until finally, they rounded out to a quantity that sounded bizarre even to you.

“950 million!”

If it had been possible for your knees to give out, you would have been collapsed onto the floor, the pool of slick that continued to lubricate your cunt without a doubt drowning you as you craved the need to be fucked by someone with undoubted alpha pheromones and cock in this room.

“950 million?” the auctioneer repeated, his voice for sure carrying a shark-like grin. “Going once, going twice—”

“Five billion.”

The gasp in the crowd was undeniable, and the omega in you crooned, knowing that this alpha valued you and your omega to be the price of five billion US dollars.

“Fuck!” screamed the man who had presented the 950 million deal.

“Wowee, five billion dollars, everyone! Anyone think they can beat that?! Going once! Going twice!” The crowd remained in silence, and you shook against your restraint, the heat emitting from your cunt almost demanding to be seen and fucked through this heat week. “SOLD! The virgin celebrity, Y/l/n Y/n sold to our own Shigaraki Tomura!”

The cheers of amaze weren’t nearly as loud as the smell of reeking petty alpha.

“Come and pay up, alpha, and then you can show us… a demonstration of how you’re going to break this omega.”

“Shut up.” Shigaraku growled, his footsteps heavy in your ear as you feel him climb up the stage, and you weakly tilted your head to look at the white-haired alpha boss hand over a simple credit card before walking over to you, his eyes unreadable as he looked you dead in the eye.

He reached out a finger that raised your chin up for him to study your face, moving and tilting your head as he pleased as a small, sinister smile pressed to his lips as he dropped your head. A sharp, uncomfortable pain fell on your chin as it crashed to the floor, and you shivered at the feeling of his calloused and rough fingers running down your exposed back.

“You’re such a small omega, still stupidly tiny. I bet you’ve never thought your first knot would come from someone like me,” Shigaraki laughed, his fingers and voice ice cold. His words were soft, spoken in a way that had your omega stupidly cooing for having secret conversations with your alpha who promised to fuck you till you were carrying a litter of pups. “I hope you realize that this is real life, that I will break you, and no hero in this world will be able to fucking save you.”

“Fuck the omega!” someone from the crowd screamed, and Shigaraki glared upwards. Still, you shivered in the thought of this alpha who spent five billion dollars to make you his claiming you, fucking your stupid heat brain into mush in front of these smaller, irrelevant alphas.

“I’ll do what I fucking please,” Shigaraki snapped, but the fingers you remembered to have been the last ones to enter your slicked crazy walls seemed to be his. They moved deep within you, curling and spreading your tight, sopping wet cavern apart, letting your pathetic, chirping cries echo powerfully in the room as lusting, near rutting alpha pheromones filled the room. “For fucks sake, omega, your pussy’s fucking tight as shit! Don’t you have any real knotted toys?”

You couldn’t respond back, your body on the road to a complete shut down at the feeling of something other than silicone deep within your body, fingering and dragging against your pheromone soaked walls.

“Alpha, y-your fingers feel so good!” you gasp, your hips thrusting backward, enjoying the way his fingernails press onto your warm velvet walls. “So good, you make me feel so good already.”

“I’ve seen you all over the news,” Shigaraki growled low into your ear. “Talking about how you didn’t want an alpha, how you never needed to feel the tightness that a fat knot could bring you, and look at you now. I’ve barely touched you, barely begun to make you mine, and yet you’re already begging for me, omega.”

Your arms tug at the handcuffs, pathetically wanting them off. Exasperatedly seeking more friction from your newly bought alpha. You can’t think straight, can’t come up with a single response except the stupid apologetic, “I’m so sorry alpha, I didn’t know i-it would be y-you!”

“Don’t be shy on her, Shigaraki! Fuck the slutty omega already! Fucking knot and claim her in front of us, I want to hear the omega whore scream. It’s always hotter when it’s the first claim ever!”

“You better learn how to shut the fuck up, or I’ll kill you for interrupting my fucking session here,” Shigaraki seethed, his red, smoldering eyes ripping from yours and glaring at some loser alpha behind you. You couldn’t care. You only wanted what looked like the growing cock in Shigaraki’s pants; you wanted to feel the cock fill up your cunt, and his knot to lock you both in place.

You drooled at the thought, your loud, whimpering cries unable to keep from pouring out as the slick from your core seemed to pour endlessly from your pussy, demanding attention and a knot. “Breed me, fill me with your pups,” you begged fingers taking in his dirty fingers in your mouth, tongue wildly and uncontrollably flicking across his fingers in hopes it would be a sinking prayer of your promise to be good. “I want your knot, alpha, I want these stupid alphas to know you’re so much better than them~!”

Shigaraki’s once snarl fell when he looked at you, a slowly growing smirk falling on his face as his lips spread into a cruel smirk, one that had you moaning around his fingers as he pinched the pink muscle in your mouth before disappearing before you.

“I smelled your distress when I put my fingers up your sloppy little cunt right before the auction happened; I could tell even with your growing heat that you hated the feeling of my fingers up your pretty pussy. But look at you now, I haven’t even set you on my goddamn knot, haven’t stretched that tiny cunt to its max. You’re smelling better than a bitch in heat,” Shigaraki growled in your ear. His clothed chest pressing deliriously into your exposed back, the huge cock outline in his pants grinding incessantly into your wet core, undoubtedly leaving a damp patch where his cock ground into you. “You’re an actress, aren’t you, little omega? I bet you just needed this audience cheering your name to break your mind over this. How. Pathetic.”

And the pressure on your tongue is gone, the drool and saliva sticky and cold on your chin as you whimper for your alpha. You promised that it wasn’t right, it was just that you had been scared before, but your alpha was so strong, his pheromones so scary and mean, he could protect you and fill you up with so many pups you couldn’t help but to be excited now.

The smell of Shigaraki seemed to brighten, and you moaned when his hands pressed the white dress up, allowing for your naked ass to be seen by him and everyone who stayed to watch. Shigaraki squeezed your asscheeks away, chuckling at the way your small asshole clenched in your embarrassment and pain at how your hormone-driven heat demanded that he fuck you and knot you now.

“So fucking wet,” Shigaraki observed, his fingertips tracing the slick on your folds before a small pop told you that he licked you clean from his fingers. “Such sweet slick too, you really are a prime omega, little one.”

You whimpered, ass shaking for him to continue to touch you, to continue to fuck you more.

“I don’t think you’re ready for my knot, precious omega,” Shigaraki taunted, and his words were a sealing deal in your lusting mind. Your hips knocking backward in some sort of desperation for more.

“She won’t,” commented the auctioneer.

“I will!” you scream, eyes filled with painful tears that could only be resolved with your alphas knot and claim. “I can take your knot, alpha!”

Shigaraki makes a small noise, and you choke at the feeling of something huge, nearly monstrous, shift into your cunt. You were a virgin, but even you knew that it was merely the head of his alpha thick cock, not enough for you to be satisfied, not far enough in you to breed or fuck you properly. All the moans in your throat were slightly painful, and the tears in your eyes continued to fall as you rocked your hips backward, trying to sink yourself further on his cock, wanting him deep in your womb.

You craved him.

“Ah, good, you can take more,” came the airy, almost insane driven coo of Shigaraki, the lack of humor making your cunt flutter against his thick, long cock. “Cry for your alpha, little omega.”

With that, Shigaraki slammed into you with no mercy, his cock bottoming out into you with a powerful, edging thrust. You screamed in pain, tears leaking from your eyes, and even with the pool of lubricating slick, his cock was far too big, incredibly thick that you felt your inner walls splitting in two as he fucked you as if you weren’t in delirious pain.

Drool and tears covered your arms, your painted fingers digging into the floorboards with crazy strength that you clawed scars on the floor as Shigaraki rutted deep within you.

Shigaraki commanded you with every thrust he gave, and soon the omega in you was cooing, howling for more, the pain of having your virginity ripped from right under you having become bubbling, glowing pleasure. You screamed in pleasure, Shigaraki grabbing onto your rolling hips to slam you back onto his cock, allowing for his thick cock to hit deep within you over and over again. The angle and power he possessed with every thrust were almost inhumane, nothing your lonely heat filled nights could ever dream of recreating ever. Shrill moans and pleas drowned out the annoying commentary of your onlookers, Shigaraki’s chest still flushed against your back, his hips landing heavily on your ass that was at this point raised because of the mount beneath you.

“My alpha,” you babble, eyes unfocused, hazy, and incredibly heavy as you stared at some point on the wall, overwhelmed with the feeling of Shigaraki’s hot cock pounding in you. “My alpha, such a good alpha. His cock is making my tummy feel funny, making my pussy feel so tight. Please fill me with your children, I’ll be a good omega to you and them, I promise! I promise — I — oh myyy goddd — I promise, alpha!!!”

Shigaraki puffs up with the praise, but he continued to fuck into you roughly, mercilessly, as if you were nothing more than the breeding whore omega that he had purchased you for. The wet slaps and satisfying squelches rang in the blazing heat room, the smell of the pleasured and heat insane omega saturating deeply within his nose, and in the other's nose, the prideful smell of a satisfied alpha.

Your spongy walls clenched and spasmed against his penetrating, pounding cock, sometimes even forcibly because, by god, it was hot when his cock would twitch within your womb, especially against your cervix.

“Fuck, you’re so damn annoying,” Shigaraki snarled into your ear, his teeth biting and scraping along your neck, and you wailed when his teeth dragged over the sweet scent gland on your neck. The one and only place for mating bites to go. His hand gripped your hair, tugging your head back so that you could feel his rough facial skin rub up against yours. “If you want me to fill you with my pups, you better be the best fucking omega on this goddamn planet.”

“I can be the best! I’ll be the best!” you cried, your ass shifting backward to meet his drilling hips.

The delirious sensation of his cock rocking against your cervix slowly begins to inflate the knot on his cock, restricting his still barbaric thrusting as he made to move faster. He wanted you to cum before he knotted entirely within you.

The pressure in your stomach is scorching and impossibly tight, and he takes another long stripe at your scent gland. You tremble with need, your fingers tearing into the wooden floors. You can feel the knot on his cock swelling up, catching onto the opening of your cunt with every successive cunt, and you begin to cry, shake, and tremble as the knot becomes too big.

Your eyes cross, your tongue falling out of your mouth as you babble his name. Your walls clamp around his knotted cock with the ferocity of a vice, and your body jerks violently as you cum hard around his cock. The slick essence of your orgasm slipping out of the few lasting places open before Shigaraki’s knot fills you out entirely. Despite his cock unable to move, the swollenness of his knot preventing him from moving out of you, Shigaraki still shoves his weight into his hips, the inflated knot stretching your cock out so widely, your vision went white, and you came yet a second time.

A small pop was heard, and suddenly with a rush of thick, hot, and heavy white cum exploded within your womb, his teeth sink around your scent gland, marking you — mating you. He filled you, filled you, and filled you. His cum wouldn’t stop until your belly was swollen with his hot cum, and he eventually fell off of you with a shaky, shallow breath.

You still remained on the mount, your eyes unfocused, breaths mumbling to your alpha, a promise to carry out every single pup he gave you and would give you. You were his omega, his good little omega, and you would never disappoint your alpha. Not now, not ever.

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The next week, you opened your door with a broad smile, your usual clothes replaced with a dress Shigaraki had picked for you and a frilly white apron on as your agent was standing outside of your house, eyes wide, mouth gaped at the still bleeding mate wound on your shoulder.

“Ah, how funny!” you laughed, waving your hand as you sighed dreamily, your eyes fluttering at the thought of your alpha who was on a business call right now. “I’m actually going to be quitting! My alpha and I have many plans right now, I gotta produce as many litters as I can, being an actress would never give me this sort of meaning in life!”

“B-But, you’re doing so much?! You have so much to do! You can’t give up?!”

“Oh, my love, we both know that I look much cuter with a pregnant belly! Don’t worry,” you smile, taking your agent's hand, brightly smiling at her one last time. “I’m sure all omegas will eventually find their alpha so they won’t be so depressed and angry like I was!”

Your agent doesn’t get another word in.

You slam the door in her face, your hands already resting on your belly that you knew was already growing the life of your first litter of pups. It had been known the second Shigaraki filled you up anymore.

You were a good little omega, and your alpha needed you!

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki smut #bnha #bnha x reader #mha #bbs kinktober 2020

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missinghan · 4 years

Text

falling for the first time ⤖ bang chan

❖ genre : hogwarts au; fluff

❖ word count : 2,1k.

❖ warning : explicit language

❖ summary : your plan of putting all effort into avoiding bang chan as much as possible has been going smoothly for almost seven years until he asks you for a dance at the Yule Ball. or alternatively, your families hate each other but wait...has he always had those golden flecks in his eyes?

❖ author’s note : here’s the song they’re dancing to 🖤

one.

The once cold ballroom has waited for eons it seems, for a real heart to beat a new rhythm into the matter that made it.

Meanwhile, you too have been waiting (for two-ish hours) in the corner with your cup of root beer abandoned at a table for your dance partner. You’re currently half-clutching your dress and half-panicking because Chan wouldn’t miss an event as extravagant as the Yule Ball. He’s not the type to be sour over little things either just because he didn’t win the Triwizard Tournament. Or perhaps someone else just happened to ask him?

A blood-curdling shriek bursts your eardrums.

Jeongin gives you a nudge with his elbow from behind. “Grilled scream-cheese?” he asks with a mouthful of gluten and carbs, a plate of a sandwich with a (literally) screaming slice of cheese slapped in the middle.

“No, my appetite is ruined,” you say, pushing it away slightly and heaving an audible sigh.

The Ravenclaw boy makes an alarming noise—something similar to ‘uh-oh’ and swallows the big bite from before as fast as he can. “Where’s Chan?”

You only shrug, “Don’t know. Don’t care.” If only you could do that with the train of thoughts that have been going in and out of your ears for the past a hundred and twenty minutes.

“Y/N, you look troubled,” he purses his lips, frowning at you.

“I’m not,” you voice in denial, trying your best not to come off as snappy. No, you will not give up your facade that easily. You won’t leave Chan’s ego nor Jeongin to rest without a fight by saying that you actually want to dance with the heathen!

“Yeah right, let me-“

“Don’t. What if he’s already asked someone else?” You momentarily shudder at how sad you sound. The root beer shouldn’t have hit you this hard. “I mean look at him, he’s Bang Chan. I’m pretty sure those girls from Beauxbatons have been eyeing him up and down since the Tournament.”

Jeongin lets out a huff of laughter in disbelief. “Are you even hearing yourself right now?”

“One of you guys could have asked me. Or I should have paid Jisung to be my partner yesterday. I just, I don’t know, what am I saying? I’m confused.”

Your friend is officially done with your bullshit so he decides for himself that he will now set down his food to make your first and last Yule Ball arguably unforgettable. “Honestly? I can lie and say I would dance with you if you weren’t so full of pride. But truth is, none of us asked you to dance because we all know how badly Chan wants this opportunity. Wake the fuck up! He’s been planning this since forever. I’ll go look for him, wait here,” he points a finger at you before running off, leaving your heartbeat pause awkwardly like a broken record.

The ballroom feels significantly colder now.

“Miss Y/N?”

Ah, perfect timing. What’s another way to phrase ‘being an absolute idiot at a ball’? Oh right, it’s ‘talking to your professor five minutes before the first dance while your friends are socializing left and right’.

“Yes, Headmistress McGonagall?”

Your professor peers around when she realizes that you’re all alone. “Are you and Mister Bang ready?”

“R-ready?” Suddenly, you feel out of place.

“Well, of course. It’s only traditional that the three champions start the first dance!”

“Oh.”

two.

Only the celestial bodies above can know how melancholy you are. But you’re met with a sky without stars tonight.

With your head on your elbows, lips pressed into a straight line, your gaze falls from the endless canvas of darkness to the hustle and bustle of students leaving the Great Hall to head back to their designated dormitories. A sigh. You definitely don’t need to know what they’re going to do for the after-party. Ryujin used to show you an article on this peculiar machine called ‘a laptop’ that the more you sigh, the faster you age. If Chan keeps doing shit like this to you, you’re gonna be all old and wrinkly by the time he comes here.

If he is going to show up at all that is.

The moment you peel your eyes away from the overcrowded main gate, a broad figure is shuffling himself through his drunk Quidditch teammates, sloppy couples, and burnt out professors. He dashes through the empty hallways to reach the spiral staircase, skipping three steps at a time, risking the chances of falling on his face just to get to you.

Pulling himself to a halt at the last step, Chan sees you all curled up against the balcony railings and feels a pang of guilt wash over his innards like a wave. You’re pulling your legs toward your chest, defeated eyes gazing into the space ahead while your hair falls to your face messily. Like you’ve gone through the depths of the Fourth Dimension, struggling through dark matters and a rite of divinity at the end of the line. All for him.

You’re beautiful.

And the amount of affection that’s piling upon his rib cage? Astronomical.

Your gaze is averted away; even with a slight scowl, sloppy clothes and messed up hair, you still flare radiance. He thinks that if a meteor shower is happening right now, you can still outshine it. “You came,” you mention.

For once, Chan finds himself at a loss for words. “Y-Yeah,” he manages to swallow. Yeah? What the fuck, Chan? Is that all you’ve got to say?

“I-I’m sorry, Y/N. Yeji accidentally mistook one of Minho’s potions for her allergy medicine so I gotta take care of that before coming,” he scratches his forearm awkwardly, head hung low with guilt. “I didn’t know it would take that long…”

“Oh.” Wow, jealous stinks. This isn’t pre-school, you’d better snap out of it. “Let’s head back. I wanna check on her before passing out.”

“She’s fine now, sleeps like death. Chaeryeong is there too, you know, just in case.” Chan feels perplexed as he tries to coax anything but the ‘head back’ option from you.

You tilt your head. “And...?”

“I’m afraid you owe me something?” A slow smile begins to outstretch upon his facial muscles, deepening the dimples on either side of his cheeks that you adore the most. “A dance, I believe,” he makes a thinking face while striding toward you.

Coldly, you stand up to dust your dress. “I don’t want to.” You’re not having it, he can tell. But does Bang Chan ever give up?

“A bet is a bet, Y/N.”

Chan’s hand fishes inside the pocket of his trench coat to take out his wand. His hand delicately gives it a swift flick; once, and twice followed by a low mumble from his lips. Immediately, light pulses from the tip of the wand before shooting upward, disintegrating into a million bits as though a starry night is embracing the both of you. He does the same action again to cast a different spell. Music laces through every fiber of air without effort, like honey being poured into your ears.

“It’s just one bet,” he pouts with a hand fully extended toward you.

You should have realized how good Chan looks tonight. A black dress shirt that’s buttoned below appropriate, matching trench coat, silver accessories lining his fingers and ears with naturally tousled hair from running here. He looks so gorgeous that it almost suffocates you, that it almost makes you want to hiss ‘fucking unfair’ out loud.

Enchanted by his poise and grace, your body reacts without the consent of your mind. You seize up when you unknowingly place your hand on top of his, the touch sending electricity down your spine. A simple response has become all too complicated for your brain to process.

You grow breathless the moment he grabs you by the waist and pulls you flush against him. “Yeah, a bet so you’ll leave me alone,” you remark sarcastically to ease your nerves.

“Look, it’s not my fault that the Goblet of Fire chose me to participate in the Tournament,” Chan chuckles lowly, eyes crinkling into crescent moon shapes while he sways you to the soft melody. Dots of light continue to float around weightlessly, reflecting the golden flecks in his eyes. He’s ethereal in the worst way—the way that isn’t healthy for your heart.

But you soon slap on another scowl when you realize he just reminded you of why you’re even here in the first place. If only you weren’t so salty about Slytherin winning your team over at the final Quidditch match before the holiday occurs. Let’s just say you weren’t exactly in the best mind state after getting your ass kicked in your favorite sport.

And Chan wasted no time to slip in between the line of comical humor and your ultimate torment. Which results in—if you get to attend the Triwizard Tournament, he will leave you alone for the rest of your life; but if he is the chosen one, he gets a dance with you at the Yule Ball.

It’s really not all that bad if you think twice about it. Dancing with Bang Chan, the Slytherin’s Quidditch team captain, the student with perfect academics and conduct for six years straight, and now one of the Triwizard Tournament champions this year.

Music threads through the atmosphere and lifts away gravity. You can’t count how many times you have stepped on his toes due to nervousness because you’re too much of a coward to look him in the eye. But he’s the only thing you can seem to focus on right now.

“Besides, don’t you think this is a good opportunity to get rid of the tension between us?” Chan asks honestly, and this causes you to perk up.

“What?”

Lights are twinkling with every step as Chan spins you around gently, your dress billowing out prettily as your heels click against the cold concrete. After that, he swiftly pulls you back into his arms and you exhale in relief like you were meant to be there all this time.

“Don’t act dumb, you’re terrible at it. I know the only reason why you’ve been avoiding me since first year was because of our families’ stupid grudge. ”

Your eyes are cast downward, sadness glinting in your round pupils. “Either way, my parents wouldn’t like to see me talking to you. And look at what we’re doing. It’s going to be catastrophic if they find out.”

“Well, they can’t just magically appear now, can they?” Chan leans a little closer to lock his eyes with yours.

And you break it seconds later because you’re an absolute coward for a Gryffindor. “We’re attending a magic school. Anything is possible.”

“Did they even tell you what the actual problem was in the first place?” he huffs out in faint annoyance.

You shake your head. “I don’t think they’d even remember.”

“Then would you stop giving me that look as if I just shooed your owl way every time I said ‘hi’ on my way to class? Have you ever thought about my feelings? About us being civil for once? Like friends? Or even more so?”

“I-“

“We’re not our parents, Y/N.”

Your heart becomes all erratic at his words. It’s nothing like those fully-fledged, tear-jerking nor cheesyass confessions that you’ve gawked at one too many times, but it makes your heart flutter and stirs up those cliché butterflies inside your stomach. This can’t be compared to the Yule Ball—it’s even better than that. Because it feels as though you and Chan are the only presences that graze the surface of this land. There’s no one to judge, no fingers to point, no gossip spreading like wildfire.

It’s perfect. Almost.

“Us...it’s not- it can’t happen. It’s not supposed to happen. It’s not possible, Chan.”

Wordlessly, he stops, moves both of your hands to his shoulders, and wraps his arms around your torso. The sound of your heartbeat against his is so in sync they just drown out the music completely. Time is frozen in place, leaving you to hang on the edge with him, hanging onto this single moment as thin as the red string of fate. You’re waiting for him to do something, say something.

Just then, Chan cracks a wry smile and pulls you closer by the nape of your neck, resting his forehead comfortably on yours. “We’re attending a magic school. Anything is possible.”

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creamiecoups · 4 years

Text

mornings ♡ ·˚ ₊

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

↠ summary : your boyfriend seungcheol just can’t get enough of you, even the morning after an intimate and long night spent together.

↠ pairing : boyfriend!seungcheol x reader

↠ warnings : smut, swearing, dirty talk, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (female receiving), a bit of cum eating, slight degradation, slight daddy kink

↠ word count : 2.1K words

↠ author’s note : hey guys im vi, and this is my first ever smut that im posting on my blog so i thought why not start with seungcheol ;-) i hope you enjoy it !!

"Oh you're here."

You jumped a little at hearing your boyfriend's groggy morning voice, he wasn't meant to wake up this early, at least not before you finished preparing breakfast.

"Cheol...you almost gave me a heart atrack," you squeaked, turning back around to finish mixing the pancake batter.

"Sorry baby...why did you leave me in bed?" He sulked, hugging you from the back as his arms wrapped around your waist.

"Cheol it's 8 in the morning and your already sulking? I had to make breakfast so of course I got out of bed," you huffed, as he kissed your cheek tenderly.

"You should've stayed in bed until I woke up though, I missed you."

Chuckling at his words, you turned in his arms to face his pouty face.

"Well we both know how that goes...you tell me five more minutes of cuddling and next minute it's already 12 and I'm worn out and late for class."

Seungcheol laughed, his dimples on full display as he looked down at your face.

"Well do you ever regret it?"

"Not really...but tell you what, my prof will end up giving me an absolute zero by the end of the semester just because of my missed attendance."

"Well fuck him...why don't you turn up to classes today extra late and say you were getting good dick so you came late," he suggested, without any shame whatsoever.

Your mouth hung open as you stared at him in utter disbelief.

"Sometimes I wonder if your heads screwed on right."

Seungcheol smiled, leaning down to peck your lips before they trailed down to your neck, where many marks were left, evident of the long night you and your boyfriend had shared last night.

"Cheol...th-this will be hard enough to cover....n-no more," you somehow made out, with Seungcheol placing open mouthed kisses all over your neck.

And of course, he ignored you, as he picked you up and placed you on the opposite bench which was clear of any kitchenware or objects, the abandoned pancake batter long forgotten.

"Didn't you get enough last night? Please give me a break and let me eat some food, I'm hungry," you said, as you suddenly remembered last night's happenings. He wouldn't let you go, and you lost count of how many times he got you to cum, and the amount of times you cried out for him to stop.

Seungcheol's lips left your neck, as he looked at you with a smirk plastered on his beautiful face.

"Babygirl, I could never get enough of you....and I'm just as hungry as you are, but for something else," he whispered the last line in your ear, as his words sent shivers down your spine.

He spread your legs a little, just enough so he could get between them as he wrapped his hands around your waist again, tilting his head, he pressed his lips against yours. His hips pushed up right into yours, making you feel how hard he really was just through his thin boxers. Your hands gripped his shoulder tightly as his hot tongue glided down your body before stopping at the neck lining of your shirt.

"Take it off," he muttered gruffly.

Even though you wanted to protest and go back to cooking, the way he was looking at you, and the undeniable heat that was pooling between your legs told you otherwise. You took your shirt off, as Seungcheol straight away attached his lips to your right nipple, a quiet sigh left your parted lips.

"I love that you don't wear a bra in the morning," he whispered against your skin, as you felt him smile.

You smiled, your nails slightly digging into Seungcheol's shoulders at the feeling of his tongue on your sensitive bud.

"As much as I love taking my time with you, I really just feel like fucking you today," he groaned, his lips trailing back up to your neck.

"Lean back baby, I want you flat against the counter."

You did as you were told, hissing at the contact of your bare skin on the cold countertop.

"Ch-cheol...it's c-cold," you whined, shivering as he smiled knowingly.

"I know...don't worry, I'll make you warm in no time."

He pulled your tights down, along with your panties, the cold air hitting your core making you shudder.

"Look at you...already so wet for me...and you said you needed a break?" he asked, tilting his head a little as he looked at you, eyes clouded with nothing but lust.

He didn't really give you a chance to reply, as he grabbed your thighs, giving you one last glance before dipping his head between them.

You bit your bottom lip harshly, moaning softly as you felt Seungcheol's tongue flush against your entrance.

"Fuck baby, I swear you taste extra good in the morning," he groaned against you skin, before he bought two of his fingers up to your mouth.

"Open up."

You opened your mouth, letting him push his fingers in as your eyes fluttered shut, lips closing around his fingers as you sucked on them.

He took them out suddenly, making you whine as he chuckled.

"Maybe if you be good, I'll let you suck me off later, hm?" He said, making you nod.

"Then be a good girl for me and moan as loud as you can okay? And remember, you are not allowed to cum until I say so."

You nod once again, bucking your hips into his fingers eagerly as you felt him rub them at your entrance.

"Words baby....or you don't get what you want," Seungcheol warned.

"O-okay daddy," you mutter impatiently, biting down on your lip.

Without another word, he pushed his fingers into you roughly, making you jolt up from the sudden wave of pleasure.

"Sh-shit, cheol!"

You moaned over and over again, as Seungcheol pumped his fingers in and out of you, while his tongue sucked on your clit harshly. Your thighs automatically shut around his head, the pleasure making it too much for you to handle, and your muscles already going weak.

He suddenly stopped, making you groan loudly in annoyance.

"Why, cheol?"

Except speaking, he gave you a glance before grabbing your thighs and spreading them wider, beyond your comfort.

"Keep them here," he warned, before he straightened his back, his fingers finding your dripping entrance once again.

"F-Fuck," you curse through gritted teeth, it was hard enough with his assault on your most sensitive area, but to make it worse, he kept his burning gaze on you, a dirty smirk plastered on his face as he watched you writhe in pleasure.

"I-I...fuck....n-need to...c-cum.." you choked on your words as he added a third finger, his thumb pressing down roughly on your clit as you cried out his name.

"Not yet baby."

Seungcheol leaned down, his lips attaching onto your right nipple, as he pulled on it slightly, but it was enough to make you scream.

You closed your eyes shut, your mouth hanging open as you came without warning, it was just too much to handle that you didn't seem to care what Seungcheol would do to you since you broke his number one rule.

He took his fingers out, and you realised he wasn't touching you, but you were too tired to open your eyes, or even care.

His fingers found your hair, as he pulled you up, and that had your eyes shooting open as you gasped in pain.

"Seungcheol what the fuck! That hurt!"

His eyes shot daggers to yours, as he only pulled you closer by your hair.

"Didn't I tell you not to fucking cum until I say so?" He drawled, making you swallow harshly.

"S-Sorry..."

"Sorry what?"

"Sorry...d-daddy," you stuttered out, avoiding his burning gaze.

"You know I hate it when you don't do as I say..." He trailed off, turning you around and pushing you forward so you were leaning down against the counter, you cheek touching the cold marble.

"But since I am pretty impatient today, I'll let you off."

His words cut you off guard, as you bit your lip in anxiousness....Seungcheol has never let you off after you mess up, it was always ended in some sort of cruel punishment.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't hear Seungcheol unbuckling his belt, before he suddenly pushed into you without any warning, making you scream loudly.

"God, I fucked you so much last night....why are you still so tight?" He growled, grabbing your hips as he slammed into you over and over again.

You no longer felt how cold the marble counter was, as the only thing your mind could focus on was Seungcheol's rough onslaught and the sound of your skin slapping against each other deliciously.

It went on for a little longer, before you started clenching around Seungcheol, as you knew you were close.

You felt how Seungcheol's thrusts slowly started getting sloppier, before you felt his warm liquid fill you up, a heavenly groan leaving his lips as you moaned loudly.

He pulled out, turning you around and pushing your back against the counter once again, the sudden movement causing you to see stars.

"Fuck....I love seeing my cum drip out of you, you don't know how beautiful you look right now...all pretty and full of my cum," he moaned, licking his lips as he guided his cock back to your entrance, pushing in slowly before pulling out again to see more of his cum drip out as you shuddered.

He did that a few more times before pushing into you completely again and this time, thrusting into you a little slower.

"Ch-Cheol....I-I....going t-to...c-cum," you stuttered out, gripping the counter so hard your knuckles started turning white.

"Ah yes...cum darling."

Taking his words as a go, you clench around him once again, feeling yourself almost at the edge before he suddenly stopped moving.

Seungcheol chuckled, pulling out of you before smacking your ass.

"Are you serious!?" You squeaked, as you watched him pull his boxers back up.

"What? I'm satisfied....and you already came right?" He deadpanned.

"Are you really going to do this to me?" You said in disbelief.

"You really thought I would let you go without a punishment? Baby, you know I'll always get you back."

"Cheol please I'm begging you," you whined, as he helped you to stand up.

"Now let's get your clothes back on, I don't want you spilling my cum all over the kitchen floor, keep it in okay? And maybe if I think you've learnt your lesson by the time I come home, I'll give you what you want," he said, kissing your cheek before he pulled your pants up, along with your panties.

"B-But you don't come home until 5...I have classes to attend today...I can't wait that long," you pouted, holding onto his wrists.

"I'm sure you can sweetheart," he beamed, moving a few hair strands out of your face.

"This is cruel, cheol....I hate you," you huffed, pushing him away before finding your shirt and putting it back on.

Seungcheol laughed, grabbing you by the waist.

"I love you baby....but you need to learn your lesson, right? You know I never let you off...and if you were really scared, you wouldn't have done that in the first place-"

"Cheol please I'll do anything you want please I'm sorry....I-I'll skip class...I don't care just don't do this to me please," you begged, giving him your saddest face ever, all the shame of how desperate you really were leaving you.

You knew your entire day would be ruined, as the only thing that would probably run through your mind while your lecturer blabbed on about god knows what would be Seungcheol deep inside of you as you came undone.

"Hey now....you'll be so busy during the day that you'll most likely forget," he chuckled, pecking your lips.

Frowning deeply, you took a deep breath in, as you felt yourself get slightly angry with how cocky he was acting.

"You know what? I don't need you, it's not like I can't get off by myself...guess I'll just excuse myself during my lecture and go someplace so I can finger myself until I come all over my fingers...and you won't be there to clean me up...I'll send you a photo if your lucky," you whisper the last line in his ear, before pulling away to see his expression.

He bought his face closer to yours, until you felt his hot breath tickling your cheek.

"You wouldn't dare do that," he snapped, but you took it as a challenge.

"I wouldn't dare? Well you'll see then," you whispered, winking at him as you pretended to walk away before he trapped you between the counter and his body.

"Fuck this...I can't take it anymore......get on your knees."

You smiled deviously, knowing you finally got him to snap.

#seventeen smut #seungcheol smut #s.coups smut #seungcheol scenarios #kpop smut #seventeen scenarios #svt smut

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miracleonice87 · 3 years

Text

Begin Again, part two

with Mathew Barzal

a/n: in honor of @kerwritesthings’ birthday (that’s right, go wish her a happy one if you haven’t already!)… Hayden and Mat are back! part one was one of the earlier pieces I wrote, and it was a combo of a reader/oc, which I don’t really like to use in my writing now, but I’m sticking with it for consistency’s sake. title is based on T Swift's song, which I obviously don't own and all that stuff.

warnings: swearing, allusions to sex, nothing graphic

word count: 5.3K+

_____

“Hayden!” you heard from across the Coliseum concourse, just moments after you’d stepped through the doors of the main entrance. A stunning platinum blonde with a dazzling smile quickly approached, waving excitedly. Your first instinct was to look over your shoulder to try and determine who the woman was speaking to, since you didn’t recognize her, but she had called your name.

Instead, you forced a small smile and tentatively stepped toward her. As soon as she was within arm’s reach, she gathered you into a tight hug.

“Sorry, I’m a hugger!” she exclaimed, then stepped back and fanned a hand across her chest. You couldn’t help but notice the rock on her left ring finger, not to mention her perfectly manicured nails and pristine blue silk Islanders jacket, paired with a white t-shirt, black jeans, and snakeskin boots. “I’m Sydney, but you can call me Syd. It’s Sydney Esiason Martin, actually. I’m Matt Martin’s wife, but all the guys just call him Marty,” she explained, her hands gesturing animatedly all the while.

It was all coming together in your brain now, that Mat must have arranged for Sydney to be on the lookout for you, and you nodded slowly, your smile growing.

“I’m Hayden,” you offered, but of course, she already knew that, you thought as you mentally kicked yourself. “It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you, and Marty, too.”

Sydney beamed, her eyes glittering. “Yeah, you, too!” she said. “It isn’t often Barzy brings a girl around the group. Well, honestly… it isn’t ever, actually,” she said with a lighthearted giggle. “You must be pretty special.”

You breathed a chuckle and swiped your tongue along your bottom lip, lost for words.

Sydney must have sensed your unease, because after a beat, she gave your upper arm a light squeeze and nodded her head toward the escalators leading to the suite level.

“C’mon, I’ll show ya where we’re sitting,” she said. “I’m starving. I think I want a pretzel with cheese. Are you hungry? They have the most incredible nachos up there, just wait…”

And as Sydney rambled on about the delicacies to be found in the family suite, your anxieties about meeting the people there suddenly shrunk, and you found yourself thinking that you were going to like this “Syd.”

_____

The game was a blowout.

New York beat Ottawa 6-1, and Mat had a goal and three assists, not to mention the night’s second star. You had held your own in the family box, and Sydney had been the perfect guide — introducing you to the kindest of the guys’ partners and avoiding the ones that side-eyed you standoffishly, whispering in your ear that so-and-so had dated two NHLers in the past, and so-and-so and her boyfriend were constantly on and off, and that Syd didn’t expect them to be around for long, so don’t worry about them. You mostly spent the evening nodding along politely to various conversations, giggling at Sydney’s over-the-top antics, and making small talk with some of the veterans’ wives. They all seemed relieved to know that you were familiar with the hockey world and, therefore, had at least a hint of what you were (potentially) getting yourself into.

But one thing you hadn’t expected? When Syd turned to you a few minutes after the game ended and said, “Oh! Matt just texted me. He said Barzy wants me to bring you downstairs.”

You swallowed your last sip of beer, hard.

“Downstairs?” you asked softly after a long pause.

“Uh huh!” Sydney nodded emphatically, tucking her phone into her Louis Vuitton bag and patting your knee. “He probably wants to introduce you to some of the boys. Don’t worry,” she said with a nonchalant wave of her hand, doing her best to calm your nerves.

You nodded slowly and reached for your own, much less expensive, bag. “O-okay.”

Ten minutes later, you were in the depths of the Coliseum in a lounge across from the locker room, Sydney chatting away about how when playoffs start, you’ll have to join her and the other girls for tailgating in the parking lot before the game, because it’s such a blast, and it’s a lot easier to watch your significant other knock the shit out of someone (or get the shit knocked out of him) when you’re tipsy. You stayed noncommittal, all the while questioning in your mind whether Mat would even want you around once playoffs started.

But you didn’t have long to dwell on that, because a moment later, the locker room door swung open, and two tall, broad, light brown-haired men stepped through it, Mat close on their heels. You could have sworn you heard him sharply whisper “please don’t embarrass me” before they crossed the hallway, but then again, maybe that was just in your head, because immediately after, Mat gave you a huge smile and stepped forward to pull you in for a hug.

“Hey!” he greeted warmly, then completely caught you off guard by pecking your lips, right there in front of half a dozen of his teammates and their partners.

You touched your fingertips to your lips, feeling them buzzing at the unexpected contact. You recovered as quickly as you could and smiled back at him, lost in the way he looked in his sharp grey suit and in how he smelled fresh out of the shower.

“Hi,” you said quietly.

And just as you studied Mat’s appearance, he was studying yours — taking in your royal blue blazer, the way your light-wash jeans hugged your curves perfectly, and, of course, admiring the Manolo Blahniks you’d scrimped and saved for two years to purchase.

“Nice shoes,” Mat commented, winking flirtatiously. You giggled, his words echoing the very first he had ever spoken to you back in the coffee shop. “Seriously, though, you look beautiful, Hayden,” he added.

Your cheeks warmed, and you tucked your hair behind your ear as you glanced down at your feet.

“Thanks, Maty,” you said quietly. “You look great, too.”

With an appreciative nod, he pressed his hand to your lower back and guided you nearer to the men accompanying him, who had already greeted their significant others — Syd kissing Matt, and Grace, you remembered, hugging her husband, whose name you couldn’t quite recall.

“Well, Hayd, you know Syd and Grace now, but I want to introduce you to their husbands, Marty and Anders,” Mat said, motioning toward them. “Anders is our captain, and Marty’s like my team dad.”

You giggled at that, glancing up at Mat fondly before focusing back on his teammates and extending your arm.

“It’s so nice to meet you both,” you said, shaking their hands.

“You, too,” Anders said. “I’m glad you came out tonight.”

“Yeah, Barzy won’t shut up about you, and now we see what all the fuss is about,” Marty said, laughing at his own joke as Sydney poked him in the ribs playfully.

“What’s this about Barzy not shutting up?” you heard from behind the wall of well-dressed men in front of you, before an icy blue-eyed man stepped forward. Mat rolled his eyes.

“And this is Tito,” Mat said, waving his arm toward the man you knew to be his close friend. “Don’t let him fool you — he doesn’t ever shut up, either.”

Tito smirked at that and held out his hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, Hayden,” he said kindly. “You’ll have to come back — you must’ve been our good luck charm tonight.”

You shook your head shyly. “No, no, I can’t take the credit,” you insisted. “That was all you guys. But yes, it’s so nice to meet you, too, Tito.”

Tito smiled, looking between you and Mat, and before Tito could offer a response, Mat spoke into your ear.

“I got us a reservation at this place nearby,” he said, his low tone making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. “I don’t wanna rush you, but we should probably get going. Besides, hopefully this is far from the last opportunity you’ll have to hear my friends chirp me.”

You smiled up at Mat, admiring the way his still-damp hair fell perfectly around his sculpted face, and nodded.

“Sure, let’s go,” you told him.

_____

“Okay, favoriiite... NFL team.”

“Seahawks," Mat answered. "Since Seattle’s not far from Coquitlam, you know?”

You nodded. “Plus Russell Wilson and Ciara are everything.”

“Everything,” he agreed dramatically, knocking his knuckles on the table for emphasis. “What about you?”

“Oh, Pats all the way,” you proclaimed, sitting back in your chair. “The day Brady signed with the Bucs was top five worst days of my life,” you added emphatically.

Mat clucked his tongue. “Awww, poor baby,” he said teasingly, throwing you a wink. You rolled your eyes.

“Okay, okay, your turn. Next question,” you said, reaching across the table for his hand, tracing the veins there with your fingertips as Mat beamed at you, unable to think immediately of another inquiry as he was too distracted by your soothing touch.

Finally, he cleared his throat. “Alright, uh,” he began. “How about... oh, what was your favorite movie as a kid?”

A faraway smile spread slowly across your lips as you looked just past Mat, recalling laying on the floor of your den back in Maine, Nick by your side as you watched the same VHS tape over and over again.

“You’ve probably never heard of it,” you started, shaking your head. “But, uh, it was called Brave Little Toaster.”

Mat stilled.

“Shut up,” he deadpanned.

Your brows pulled together, puzzled. “What?”

Mat chuckled in disbelief. “Brave Little Toaster was my favorite movie as a kid.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You’re lying,” you accused.

Mat put up his hands in innocence.

“Swear!” he insisted. “You can call my sister right now. We watched it every day for years.”

You could only grin stupidly. “Us, too,” you told him. “Sequels weren’t that good, though,” you added, taking a sip of your wine.

Mat nodded, looking pleased with that assessment, and thought not for the first time that night about how easy this all felt with you. How right. From the simplest thing to the most important.

“No, no, they were trash,” he laughed. “Brave Little Toaster Goes to Mars, and, uh... shit, what was the other one… uh, Brave Little Toaster…”

“To The Rescue,” you finished, Mat echoing the last word before you both fell into a fit of giggles.

“I cannot believe we have this much in common, Maty,” you said when you finally caught your breath.

“Yeah, pretty crazy, right?” Mat said. You nodded as he reached for his gin and tonic. “Feels like I’ve met my other half,” he said.

You pressed your lips together in an attempt to hide your shy smile, dropping your gaze to your lap. From across the table, Mat squeezed your hand. Then, a voice piped up from behind you.

“I hate to interrupt…”

You turned in your seat to find the maître d' leaning toward you, an apologetic look in his eyes.

“We’re going to be closing, so I just wanted to ask—”

“Oh, god, did we close the place down?!” you asked apprehensively, glancing around the room to discover that, indeed, you and Mat were the last two in the room.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” Mat said, flustered. “I didn't even realize. We’ll get out of your hair. I’m so sorry, sir. Really.”

The man shook his head in understanding and left the table as the waiter approached with the bill.

Suddenly, your stomach dropped. You couldn’t even fathom how much two steak dinners and drinks for the both of you would cost at a place like this. You felt guilty for agreeing to come here instead of suggesting something less extravagant, and you braced yourself as you waited for Mat to make some noise of disgust at the number on the check, just like you’d been used to at the end of date nights for so long.

But, it never came. Mat simply tucked a few bills into the fold, and looked back up at you with a smile and a contented sigh.

“You ready?” he asked easily.

You nodded. “I’m ready for anything with you.”

Mat jutted out his chin proudly and came around to pull out your chair. With his hand gently resting on the small of your back, he guided you to the valet station in front of the restaurant while you waited for his car to be brought around. All the while, Mat felt his heart thudding against his ribcage as he contemplated his next move.

Unaware of his internal struggle, you turned to him with a smirk as you awaited the car’s arrival, and you slipped your hands into his jacket pockets as you leaned into his chest.

“My hands are cold,” you explained simply, while Mat nodded, thinking that there was no better feeling than you reaching out for him. He only wanted to be near to you, ever, always, which brought him to finally posing his long anticipated inquiry.

“Hey, uh…” Mat began, clearing his throat nervously. “I was thinkin’, maybe you’d wanna come over to my place, like, maybe for the night? Honestly I just… I just wanna spend as much time with you as I can, especially since we’ve got another roadie coming up. And I’d love to just curl up on the couch with you, maybe watch a movie—“

“Yes,” you answered softly, but firmly. You had never been more certain that yes, you wanted to go home with this person. Right now.

Mat was caught off guard by your confident answer, and he smiled down at you in disbelief.

“You sure?” he asked. “There’s no pressure, Hayd. I know this is moving fast and all.”

You nodded. “It is,” you concurred. “But it feels… good. It feels right. And I wanna come home with you, Maty.”

Mat grinned from ear to ear and grasped your face with both his hands, kissing you deeply just as his car pulled up to the curb. He took your hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Let’s go then.”

_____

You did spend the night at Mat's that night, and the next night, and the one after that. But the one after that, Mat wasn’t around, and was instead in Raleigh for the first half of a two-game road trip. So, you were surprised when, while you were watching the game, you heard your doorbell ring. Frowning, you jogged to your door and hit the intercom.

“Hello?”

“Yeah, Miss Parker?”

“This is she.”

“Got a delivery for you. Says it’s from an ‘M. Barzal’?”

You smirked, tucking your chin to your chest.

“I’ll be right down.”

Seconds later, you were bounding down the stairs to meet the delivery person, who stood on your building’s front steps holding a stout bouquet of full, white peonies. You thanked them as you took the bouquet in your hands, staring down at it wistfully as you closed the door behind you. Not bothering to wait until you were back in your apartment to read the note, you pulled the card from the envelope tucked within the bouquet.

Hayd,

Pretty flowers for my pretty girl. Be home soon. Don’t forget about me.

_____

“Baby sis!”

You heard your brother’s booming voice on the other end of the line three days later, sounding a bit distant. By that and the sound of papers shuffling, you knew he had you on speaker at his office. “What’s up, Hayd?”

You smiled at his eternally effervescent tone.

“Hi, Nicky,” you greeted. “Oh, nothing much.” Lie. “Just wanted to give you a call and check in.”

“Aww, I’m flattered,” Nick replied. “But you know that I know you better than anybody else, right? I can tell by your voice that you’ve got something to say. What’s goin’ on? Lay it on me.”

You bit your bottom lip. Damn him. Even all the way from Boston, he could still read you like a book. You couldn’t help the girlish giggle that escaped you as you admitted, “Okay, okay. I wanted to tell you that I, uh... I met somebody.”

You could practically hear his eyebrows shoot up over the phone.

“Really?” Nick drawled, lengthening both syllables dramatically. You rolled your eyes at his theatrics, but still, you beamed.

“Really,” you confirmed. “Somebody you’d, uh... somebody you’d actually probably recognize.”

“What do you mean? You cop yourself an attorney or what?”

“No,” you responded, fussing with the frayed hem of your cropped sweater. “No, not quite—“

“What, a Yankee then?”

Your eyes widened at his surprisingly accurate interruption. He was more on the nose than he knew.

“Well... not a Yankee, but...”

“Shut up,” he cut you off once more. “A Met? A Jet?”

You bit at the skin around your polished plum fingernails before you spat out, “An Islander.”

Silence. Then, a bellow.

“What?!”

That was Nick. Ever the thespian.

“It’s Mat Barzal, Nicky,” you answered matter-of-factly. “Like something out of a goddamn rom-com, I met him in a coffee shop about a month ago, and we’re… we’re dating. He’s my boyfriend.” You uttered the last words of your statement with an astonished laugh. It still seemed too good to be true just in your own head — telling someone else made you sound certifiably crazy, even to your own ears.

“I- … how... Jesus! What?!” Nick sputtered. “Hayden! What the fuck! Well, ‘m happy for you, but I’m just… I think I’m in shock right now.”

You groaned with a pained chuckle.

“I know. I’ve been in shock this entire time,” you concurred. “But Mat, he’s… he’s amazing. It sounds so cliché, but he’s just such a normal guy. He’s super polite, funny, thoughtful—“

“Plus he’s an absolute man rocket,” Nick added enthusiastically.

You put a hand to your forehead, rolling your eyes once more.

“Spoken like a true former hockey player,” you commented.

Quickly moving on from your remark, Nick asked, “So, when do Annie and I get to meet him? Seen him on the ice for years but I gotta make sure he’s good enough for my baby sis.”

You smiled warmly at his often-used term of endearment and replied, “Well, yeah. That’s kinda the main reason I wanted to talk to you. He plays the B’s next weekend, on Sunday, at the Garden. The game’s at 1, I think, so… uh… he got us tickets — three tickets. He wants me and you and Annie to go to the game and then he wants us all to go out together—“

“Done,” your brother spoke up firmly before you could even finish. You beamed at his confirmation, despite the fact that he had interrupted you for what felt like the hundredth time in your three-minute call.

“Really?” you asked, scrunching your nose tentatively. “I know you guys are really busy, especially with wedding planning and stuff, and I’d totally understand—“

“Hayden, stop,” Nick spoke sternly. “Seriously. It’s no problem. Sundays are good for us. Besides, even if I did have plans, I’d cancel them for this. Meeting my sister’s new boyfriend is a big deal.”

Absentmindedly, you nodded, though he couldn’t see it.

“Well, thank you, Nicky. It means a lot. I’ll let Mat know you can make it. He’ll be so excited,” you told your brother happily.

“Awesome,” Nick replied warmly. “So what about Mom and Dad? They haven’t met the kid yet, have they?”

You snorted. “Nicky, you’re only two years older than him,” you pointed out. “You can’t call him a kid.”

“Sure I can!” he insisted. “He’s dating my kid sister — that makes him a kid to me.”

You sighed, amused.

“Whatever. But no, they have not met him yet,” you said. “That’ll happen soon enough, you know? I mean, you know how Dad can be — he can come off as kinda gruff, even though you and I know he’s a teddy bear. And Mom, she’s just gonna fall in love with him, and I’m not ready for that just yet.” You chuckled as you heard Nick offer a hum of understanding on the other end of the phone. “Besides, he has a lot of respect for you, and you guys have a lot in common. I just think it would be great for the two of you to meet first,” you said.

“What do you mean he has a lot of respect for me?” Nick asked, sounding puzzled.

One of your brows quirked of its own accord and a smirk stretched across your lips. You’d unwittingly skipped over the best part — the best part for Nick, anyway.

“Oh, I didn’t mention that?” you asked smugly. “He remembered you. The first day we met, I told him my brother played in the Q, he asked my last name… and immediately, he remembered you.”

You heard Nick suck in a breath. “You can’t tell me shit like this, sis,” he said. “Annie always says my ego is already too big as it is, and you just inflated it even more.”

You couldn’t help but burst into laughter, amused by his declaration.

“Well, that’s facts,” you replied. “He remembered the injury, but most of all, he remembered how good you were. He was really glad to hear you’re doing well now.”

“Marry him, or I will,” Nick deadpanned. You could tell he was trying to use humor to mask any emotions your statement had stirred up.

“Oh, Annie would love to hear you say that,” you scoffed, then you glanced at the clock above you. “Listen, I gotta get to the Coli, but I’ll—“

“Oh, my god, my name is Hayden, and my boyfriend is an Islanderrr! I have to get to the Coli to watch him playyy!” your brother mimicked ruthlessly.

You growled at Nick’s playful mocking of you and spat, “Hey, you want these B’s-Isles tickets next weekend or not?”

Immediately, Nick shaped up.

“Just kidding, my darling baby sister! I’ll let you go, and I’ll see you next weekend,” he said.

“Deal. I’ll call you once Mat and I go over the details and stuff,” you promised.

“Sounds good. I’ll talk to ya then. Hey — one more thing,” Nick said hurriedly.

“What’s that?” you inquired as you swung your handbag over your shoulder and grabbed your jacket from the hook in your entryway.

“Are you happy?” Nick asked, his voice more solemn than it had been throughout your entire conversation — more solemn than it almost ever was. Your lips stretched into a slow grin.

“Honestly, Nicky…” you began, a dreamy sigh leaving you as you paused pulling on your jacket. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m super happy.”

You could hear Nick smiling as he replied, “Good. I can tell. You deserve it, Hayd.”

“Thanks,” you answered softly. “It feels really good.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” Nick retorted knowingly. You hummed in agreement and he added, “Alright, I’ll talk to you later. I love you, baby sis.”

“I love you, too, brother,” you replied. “Bye.”

You tapped the red button on your screen to end the call and slipped your jacket the rest of the way over your shoulders as you headed for the door. Just as you reached for the knob, your phone dinged with a text alert.

MB 😍: See you after the game, beautiful. Sushi and sleepover at my place tonight? Up to you. Just let me know 😘

You felt your cheeks warm as a smile stretched across your face, grinning like an idiot at your phone as you had every day for the last month — not that you cared. In fact, it was a welcome change from the sighs and eye rolls you used to emit when reading texts from your last significant other. You felt grateful for this new beginning, this flood of long-dormant feelings you didn’t know you’d ever feel again.

Your fingers flew easily across the keyboard as you typed your response: Sounds perfect. Count me in. Good luck, baby 💋

Within seconds, as you pulled the door closed and headed for the parking garage, his reply lit up your screen.

MB 😍: 🥰

Yeah, you couldn’t have said it better yourself.

_____

The next weekend after dinner, Nick stood with his arm wrapped around Annie’s shoulders, waving goodbye as he watched you and Mat turn and walk down the sidewalk in front of the restaurant hand in hand. Annie squeezed Nick’s waist as he sighed.

“What’s the matter?” Annie asked with a soft smile.

Nick shook his head.

“Nothin’,” he said. “Absolutely nothing is the matter. That kid is… I mean, he’s somethin’ else, huh?”

Annie chuckled thoughtfully.

“He really is,” she agreed. “I’ve known your sister since she was a kid, and I’ve never seen her so giddy as she was today with him.”

“Yeah, me either,” Nick said, his voice sounding far away. “I feel like… I dunno, I feel like this might be the real thing. I know it sounds crazy to say that already.”

Annie grinned, leaning her head against his shoulder. “I don’t think it’s crazy,” she said. “I think they’re really in love.”

Nick breathed a laugh through his nose, shaking his head. “Who woulda thought? My sister and an Islander. Shit.”

_____

“Don’t freak out,” Mat spoke, an anxious smirk on his face as his eyes glimmered.

“Maty!” you whined. “You’re scaring me. What the hell is it?” you asked, your eyes landing once more on the white box tied with a blue satin ribbon.

“Just open it,” Mat instructed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees as you studied him cautiously.

You shook your head, wondering what on earth he was up to, but pulled the ribbon to loosen the bow nonetheless. You pulled the top of the box off and peeled away the tissue paper beneath to reveal a denim jacket, the name “BARZAL” and the number 13 embroidered in blue and orange on the back, along with an Isles logo, a blue heart, and plenty of gemstones.

You silently looked toward Mat, who gazed at you expectantly.

“It’s a WAG jacket,” he explained. “You’ve probably seen some of the girls wear them to games.”

You nodded slowly, unable to think of even a single-word response. You knew what it was. You just couldn’t believe it was yours.

You looked back down to the jacket, then finally back at Mat. He moved from his seat on the couch to sit beside you on the loveseat, taking your hand.

“Listen, I know it’s still really early on, but, I… it just felt like a no brainer to me, Hayd,” he said, his words rushed. “You totally don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to — there’s no pressure. But with the playoffs coming up, Syd asked me if I wanted to have one made for you, and I said I did. I didn’t know if I should clear it with you first, but I wanted to surprise you with it, so I—”

“You… you want me to wear this to games?” you interrupted, your brows furrowed.

Mat’s own face contorted with confusion.

“Y-yeah… yeah, of course I do, baby,” he said. “You’re my girlfriend. And I want people to know it.”

You tried to hide your unsureness under a tight smile as you ran your fingers along the decals adorning the jacket, trailing your touch down the seams. You weren’t sure if you would ever get used to being someone that your significant other was proud of and wanted to show off to the world. Past that, you couldn’t believe that Mat had purchased this for you on his own, with no strings attached — just by looking at the custom item, you knew it had been far from cheap. Every day, Mat made you feel like the most special person in the world, and sometimes you weren’t sure why he bothered, or why he’d chosen you when he could have literally anyone else.

But instead of voicing what your insecurities and your past traumas were screaming at you, you simply decided to take Mat at his word — something you’d been working hard on since the start of this relationship. You flashed a million dollar smile and threw your arms around his neck.

“Thank you, Maty,” you whispered into his ear. You felt his arms tighten around you, his hands gently caressing your back. “This means so much to me.”

Mat smiled over your shoulder and kissed your temple.

“It means everything that you wanna wear it,” he told you, pulling back. “I can’t wait to see you in it.”

You beamed and glanced back down at the garment.

“You want me to try it on?” you asked excitedly, like a little kid just home from a back-to-school shopping spree.

Mat nodded, smiling. “I would love for you to try it on,” he assured.

You wasted no time pulling the jacket from the box and lifting it up. You put one arm into the first sleeve, and Mat guided the other arm after it. Upon closer inspection, you could see your own name embroidered into the wrist of the left sleeve, along with a date in matching script on the other sleeve.

“What’s this?” you asked, smoothing your finger along the thread as you held out your arm to Mat.

The corners of his lips ticked upward into a smile. “The day we met,” he said simply.

You met his eyes and immediately leaned in, grasping his face in one hand as you kissed him, overwhelmed by his constant thoughtfulness.

“Thank you,” you repeated, and Mat only nodded. He took your hands and squeezed.

“Stand up, show me,” he insisted.

You giggled and obliged, doing a little spin with your arms outstretched as Mat laughed.

“Wow, baby, it looks great on you,” he said, in awe. “I absolutely love it. Do you like it?”

You nodded, biting at your bottom lip.

“It’s perfect,” you said, smoothing your hands along the fabric. “I’m definitely wearing it to the next game.”

Mathew nodded, pleased to hear your declaration, and crooked his finger, inviting you closer. You stepped forward, rested your knees on the couch on either side of his lap, and looped your arms around his neck. Mathew began to peck at your lips, jaw, and neck playfully.

“You look,” kiss, “so good,” kiss, “with my name,” kiss, “on your back,” kiss, followed by a mischievous squeeze to your butt.

You felt heat rise from your chest, up your neck, to your face, and you leaned back to rid yourself of the jacket and carefully toss it onto the back of the couch, causing Mat to pout his lips.

You shook your head, placing your index finger to his pucker.

“For what I have planned to say thank you, I’m not gonna wanna be wearing anything nice,” you told him, removing your finger to kiss his lips.

Mat raised his eyebrows and hummed his approval.

“How about not wearing anything at all?” he asked, cockiness in his tone as he tugged at your t-shirt. Following his cues, you removed it from your body and tossed it onto the floor.

“Whatever you say, Barzal,” you said, though Mat was too focused on your lacy bra to think of a response.

Instead, he hoisted you over his shoulder as you squealed with laughter, hauling you to the bedroom and leaving the denim jacket to be worn another day.

#happy birthday ker #mathew barzal #mat barzal #m.barzal #m. barzal #my writing #mathew barzal writing #mathew barzal fanfiction #mat barzal writing #mat barzal fanfiction #nhl writing #nhl fanfiction #hockey writing #hockey fanfiction #new york islanders #islanders #barzal

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weelittleweasley · 4 years

Text

A Cup of Tea | Draco x Reader

Prompt as requested by anon: hii ! I’m in love with ur writing! anyways could you do one where reader meets Draco’s mom & Narcissa absolutely loves her ? And like her embarrassing draco & stuff like that ? Just thought it would be cute 🥺

Warnings: lots of fluff

A/N: I’m so glad to see that people are enjoying my writing again! Feels good to be writing again! I forgot how much I love to write for y’all! Enjoy the imagine and have a happy Monday!!

Flashbacks are told in italics!

Lacing your boots up, you sit on the edge your bed as your hair falls in front of your face. You tuck your hair behind your ears, rising from the bed and looking at yourself in the mirror in front of you. Sucking in a deep breath through your nose and out of your mouth, you inspect yourself. The black wrap dress clung to your figure nicely and your hair framed your face nicely. Nervously gnawing on your bottom lip, you grab your bag and jacket, trying not to thinking about the tight feeling in your chest as you prepped to meet your boyfriend’s mother for the first time.

A week prior, you and Draco sat in his dormitory as you worked quietly at his desk on your homework. Draco laid on his bed, tossing a ball up and down, remaining silent with little sighs here and there. The silence was comfortable as Draco patiently waited for you to finish your work before you could give your full attention. Maybe patiently waiting was a little too generous...

“Darling, you must be nearly done. You’ve been at that desk for hours,” Draco groans, sitting up, watching you scribble into your notebook alongside a slew of textbooks.

Without shifting your gaze, you reply, “I’m almost done. Please give me five more minutes, love.”

He groans and falls melodramatically back on his bed, continuing to throw the ball up and down. You take a few more moment writing some last notes from this night’s reading into your book before shutting the books closed and turning around in your chair. You look at the boy who lays on his bed, huffing about how stupid it was that he has been waiting for hours when in reality it was an hour and a half at most he was waiting for you to finish. “Are you done with your antics, Malfoy?” you ask him, a teasing smile dancing on your glossy lips.

Draco sits straight up and a cheeky smile finds its way to his mouth. “At last,” he breathes out as you walk over to him and he wastes absolutely no time throwing his ball to the other side of his room, pulling you into his lap, your usual seat. You allow a few small giggles to slip out of your mouth as he pulls you in, burying your face into the crook of his neck, breathing his scent in deeply. He smelled like cologne and apples. A pleasant combination to your senses. Draco places a small kiss to your temple before laying down on the bed, causing you to straddle him on his bed. “Best seat in the house,” he jokes, looking up at you. You looked like a vision; a toothy grin on your face, wispy hair falling front of your eyes as you brush it out of your view, your Hogwarts uniform hugging you in every place perfectly. He never knew how sexy that god awful uniform could look on someone.

You two remain in this position for a little while, his thumbs rubbing small circles into your hip bones, as you brush the white blonde hair on his head with your fingers. Cupping his cheek with one of your hands, you stroke it with your thumb before he turns his head and places a gentle kiss to your palm. Draco was putty under your touch. The boy would do anything you asked him to. He lived to make you happy, to make you feel special, to make you feel loved. If you asked him for the world, he would give it to you with the moon and the stars. You wished that other people could see this soft side of Draco, but at the same time, you loved that it was a little secret between the two of you. Only you got to see how gentle and kind he was; how thoughtful he could be. “Dray?” you ask as he hums in response, lacing your fingers with his, him gently kissing your knuckles individually. “What do you think our future holds?”

“Well, we’ll be married, of course,” Draco does not hesitate to answer this question, which brought you comfort. Draco talked nearly all the time about how much he wanted to make you his wife. If you weren’t still in school, he’d be down on one knee right now, proposing that you spend the rest of your lives with each other. “We can move into the manor with my parents,” he starts, watching him play with your hands, looking at the lines on your palms. This part of his proposition made you a little uneasy. Rather than living with Draco’s parents, you’d rather find a place of your own, away from all the madness of the Malfoy’s. You loved Draco, no question, but you didn’t know if you would love living with his parents. Speaking of which, of who you have not met yet. Well, technically you have met his father, but you would rather not chose to remember that awkward encounter. You smiling wide at him as Lucius looked at you with disgust, saying that his son was not dating any girl after you introduced yourself as Draco’s girlfriend. With that, he kept walking down the halls of Hogwarts, leaving you feeling quite embarrassed. “Something wrong?” Draco asks, propping himself up on his elbows, sitting halfway up. He noticed the tension in your shoulders when he brought up living with his parents.

Shaking your head back and forth, you reply, “No, I’m alright. Keep talking.” You press a small kiss to his lips trying to encourage him to keep talking about your future together. As you pull away, Draco has a look on his face that screams I’m not buying it. “Really, darling, I’m alright. Continue,” you push his shoulders, jokingly making him smirk. Draco thinks for a moment before his eyes lighting up like a Christmas tree. “Oh no,” your smile drops. “I know that face and I don’t like where this is going already.”

Draco laughs and sits up straight so your chests are now touching. “I want you to meet my mother,” he confesses and your heart stops beating for a moment. Your mouth goes dry and you try to keep yourself composed as to not alarm Draco. “I know the two of you will get on like a house on fire. You’ll come to the manor with me next week on holiday, won’t you?” he asks, his eyes pleading you to say yes. His blue eyes bore into you. Merlin, how were you supposed to say no. Feigning excitement, you nod your head up and down with a small hum. He chuckles, “Brilliant. I’ll send an owl and tell mother she should expect a very special guest.” Draco closes the gap between you two, pressing a hard kiss to your lips, showing you how thankful he was that the two most important women in his life would be meeting. You on the other hand, were absolutely horrified.

Now, here you were, bag and jacket in hand, making your way to Draco’s dormitory, your heart pounding out of your chest. It’s not that you didn’t want to meet Draco’s mother, you were just scared that you wouldn’t live up to her expectations. The Malfoy’s were one of, if not, the most powerful family of wizards. They had money, status, wealth, and power; something some people can only dream of, but something you were scared of. You and Draco came from two completely different backgrounds. You were not a pureblood Slytherin and you knew that this may pose a problem, considering how passionate Narcissa Malfoy was about having a pureblood line.Your parents were both wizards, your father was a Ravenclaw, mother a Slytherin. Of course, when you got to Hogwarts, you took after your mother, the sorting hat calling out Slytherin before the hat even touched your head, making you smile wide. Your parents weren’t very wealthy, money wasn’t something you had excess of. They had made you get a summer job alongside muggles, they insisted that teaching you the value of money at a young age would instill good habits in you. But now that you were taken by a Malfoy, money was never really a problem. If you even mentioned in passing that you wanted or needed something, it would be on your bed the next day with a love note from Draco. But still, you weren’t raised like that and the idea of spending money frivolously made your nerves act up.

Your thoughts are halted when you arrive at Draco’s door, tapping gently on his door. In two seconds, the door swings open to reveal a smiling Draco. He looks handsome, black turtleneck and blazer, freshly pressed trousers, and shiny black leather shoes. Draco looks you up and down and his smile grows wider if possible. “Perfect,” he coos before grabbing your waist and kissing you sweetly. He always knew what to say. “Are you ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you sigh, nervously straightening out the pleats in your dress.

Draco closes his door behind him and takes your hand in his, making your way to the outside of the castle. “Oh, don’t worry. Mother will adore you. I just know it,” he squeezes your hand. “And if she doesn’t, too bad because I love you.” You give him a weak smile and kiss his cheek. At least you knew that Draco would be at your defense if all else fails.

The trip to the Wiltshire was smooth, but you were anything but. Thoughts circled your head constantly. What if she knows I’m not a pure blood Slytherin? What if she thinks I’m dressed inappropriately? What if she heard from Lucius that he thinks I’m a stupid git? What if she takes one look at me tells me to leave? But these thoughts didn’t help the time move slower.

And there you were, standing in front of Malfoy Manor, Draco’s fingers laced with yours, you holding his arm for extra support. You bit your lip nervously, scanning Draco’s face, looking for any hesitation. If he told you that he changed his mind, you would not hesitate leaving the manor right now. But it’s far too late when Draco has knocked on the large door in front of him. “You’ll be brilliant,” Draco tells you, kissing your nose.

Before you can open up your mouth to respond, the large door swings open to reveal Narcissa Malfoy. You expected someone else to open the door, but no, there she was in her full glory. Narcissa was more beautiful than you could ever expect. Brown hair pulled in an updo, while the platinum blonde that matched Draco’s fell on her shoulders perfectly. She wore a dark green snakeskin jacket that fell to the floor with a luxurious silk black dress and black leather boots. “There’s my boy,” she smiles, opening her arms to which Draco entered, hugging his mother tightly. Your nervousness subsided slightly as you watched the boy you loved give his mother a warm embrace. “I’ve missed you dearly,” she whispers in her son’s ear, giving him a kiss on the top of his head.

They break their embrace before Draco steps to the side and says, “Mother, this is (Y/N). She’s my girlfriend. (Y/N), this is my mother.” After he says that, his eyes dart back and forth between his mother and you. He’s so nervous of who will speak first, how she will react to you, how you will react to her. He just wants the two women he loves to get along.

Gulping hard, you decide to speak first. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Malfoy. Draco has told me so much about you,” you offer her the warmest smile you could ever produce and extend a hand out to shake hers.

Narcissa laughs and pushes your hand away. Your heart stops. She hates me already. It hasn’t even been five minutes and she wants me dead. “Don’t be silly, (Y/N). Call me Narcissa,” she speaks and immediately wraps you in a hug, squeezing you so tight. Your eyes widen as you look at Draco whilst hugging his mother. You have never seen Draco smile this big before in his life. His happiness makes you happy as you hug his mother back tightly. She pulls away, holding you back at arm’s length to take a good look at you. “Draco, you did not do Miss (Y/N) justice in describing her. She is even more beautiful than I could ever imagine,” she looks at her son with a smile. Draco smiles wide as you thank her for the compliment. “You two must be cold and hungry from the trip here. Please, come in, I have a kettle on the stove and biscuits.”

Draco leads you into the manor, you look around, taking its in stunning architecture and decor. The manor was decorated with ornate pieces in emerald green, blacks, and greys. The staple color palette of Slytherins. “Your home is beautiful, Narcissa,” you compliment.

“Thank you, darling,” she coos as she walks you and Draco into the main dining room, a long black marble table stretched from one end of the room to the other. Three place settings are at one end, green and silver tea cups and saucers sit beautifully on the table with plates of biscuits, sweets, and other foods. “This house has been in the Malfoy family for generations. It all started with Armand Malfoy who-”

“Mother, please,” Draco whines, knowing that this story would last for ages if his girlfriend let his mother tell the entirety of the story.

Narcissa rolls her eyes. “I’m sorry, Draco doesn’t like my storytelling. He thinks I make the story longer than I need it to be,” Narcissa looks at her son, eyebrows raised giving him a knowing look as Draco mockingly laughs at her. “I think I tell stories just fine.”

You decide to add a little wood on the fire and tease Draco right back. “He does the same with me. I cannot possibly tell him a story of my day when he gets bored the moment I open my mouth. Not to mention, he is the one who asked for the story in the first place!” you tease, causing Draco to look at you, feigning offense.

His mother laughs brightly, throwing her head back. “Yes! Exactly! Oh, Draco, I’m so glad you brought home a lady who has a sense of humor. Come, (Y/N), follow me in the kitchen. I’ll tell you the story of the Manor whilst Draco waits out here for the tea to finish steeping,” Narcissa links your arms together and every single bit of nervousness and fear melts away in that moment. “Draco, dear, get napkins for us,” she instructs before whisking you away into the kitchen, asking what tea preference you have.

Hours have past, and here you were sitting at the Malfoy’s dining room table, tears in your eyes from laughing alongside Narcissa. She has now pulled out Draco’s baby book, pointing out pictures of the young child in the bathtub, soap sudds all over his head, naked little body in the shallow water. “He was two and a half here. He had just come back from a walk in the garden and he was covered in mud. The poor child had fallen into a puddle and was crying that he got dirty and demanded a bath,” Narcissa recalls the happy memory as Draco groans and leans back in his chair as you gaze upon the sweet photo.

“Aw, come on, Draco, you look adorable,” you coo as your fingers delicately touch the image pasted onto the parchment of the baby book. Draco shoots you a menacing glare as you giggle, flipping to the next page.

The day was going so smoothly. Narcissa asked you about school, your passions, how you and Draco fell in love...she wanted to know everything about you. She was so kind, it reminded you of how kind Draco could be. He had obviously inherited that from his mother and not his father. You were shocked. How could someone so lovely be married to someone so cruel?

Wiping the tear from the corner of her eye, Narcissa closes the baby book. “Alright, I think Draco has had enough teasing for today,” she says as Draco huffs a finally. “Darling, could you go bring the teacups into the kitchen please?” she asks Draco as he happily obliges. “So, tell me, (Y/N),” she starts when Draco leaves the dining room. “And tell me honestly, where do you see this relationship with Draco going? Is there a future?” she asks, her hands finding yours, giving them a light squeeze, hoping that the answer is yes.

Now this was something you could talk about. “Narcissa, I love your son more than the sun loves the moon. He’s my everything,” you confess to her, making a grin appear on her face. “He makes me the happiest I have ever been,” you tell her simply.

“We do intend on getting married, Mother,” Draco interrupts the conversation as you and Narcissa shoot him a look, letting him know that he ruined the sweet moment between the two women. “Was I not supposed to say that?”

You laugh and shake your head, “You’re fine, darling. But yes, we do plan on getting married immediately after we done with school.”

This makes Narcissa just beam with joy. “Thank Merlin,” she places a hand over her heart. “I was hoping you would say that. I didn’t want someone like Pansy Parkinson marrying my son,” she tells you, causing you to look at Draco as you two both laugh. “Well, just so you know (Y/N), you know that you are welcome to move in here with myself, Draco, and my husband after you finish your education. This home is also your home. Not to mention, I would love another lady in the house,” she tells you with a wink.

Her offer makes your heart glow. When Draco proposed this a week ago, your nerves set in and made you worry. But now thinking about living in the manor with Draco and his wonderful mother only made your heart swell with love and adoration. “Thank you, Narcissa, from the bottom of my heart. It means the world to me that you would open your home to someone like me,” you tell her.

Narcissa furrows her brows and realizes what you were talking about. “Just because you aren’t pureblood Slytherin doesn’t make you any less of a wonderful woman and witch. My son loves you which only makes me love you even more,” she tells you before stroking your cheek with her finger. Her gesture makes you tear up a little bit. This woman radiated kindness and you didn’t understand how you were so lucky to love a boy who had the most incredible woman as a mother.

Draco looks upon the two of you and his heart could not be more full. His mother loved you as if you were her own and he could only imagine how happy that made you. Draco watched the two women he loved have their own moment, a smile plastered on his face. “I hate to do this, but we should really be heading back to school. I have a quidditch match tomorrow and need to rest up for it,” Draco speaks.

“Oh, of course, darling,” Narcissa speaks as the three of you rise from the table. “You know you are always welcome to come home whenever you please. No need to let me know when you are coming. The doors are always open,” Narcissa tells you both. She walks you both to the door and you have to admit, you were a little sad to leave. There was still so much to talk about. Narcissa looks at you and smiles sweetly. “It was so lovely to finally meet you, (Y/N).”

You take Narcissa’s hands and give them a squeeze. “Same to you. You are so lovely, today was wonderful,” you admit as she scoops you into an embrace. “I’m sure we will see each other again soon.”

Narcissa gives you a sweet smile and tells you to send an owl if you were in need of anything. She then looks to her son and cups his cheeks, looking him in the eyes with so much love. She places a tender kiss on his forehead before giving him a hug goodbye. “I’ll see you soon, Mother,” Draco holds his mother in his arms for a long while and you swear you can hear a small sob escape from Narcissa’s lips. She loved this boy so much, it seems like she would break. “I’ll be home for Christmas. Maybe (Y/N) can spend some time with us,” he offers as you shake your head excitedly. You can only imagine how beautifully the Manor would be decorated for the holidays.

The two of you leave the Manor, hand in hand as Narcissa waves goodbye and blows a kiss before shutting the door. You look at Draco and he just laughs. “What?” you ask, slapping his arm. “What’s so funny, you bloody idiot?”

“I think my Mother loves you more than she loves me,” he laughs as you roll your eyes.

“I’m starting to like your mother more than I like you,” you joke as he acts hurt. “Kidding,” you laugh as you kiss him sweetly. “Maybe.”

#draco #draco imagine #draco malfoy #draco x female reader #draco x you #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy oneshot #draco malfoy fanficiton #draco malfoy x female reader #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #harry potter #harry potter imagine #hogwarts #slytherin #narcissa malfoy

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binunus · 4 years

Text

injury | cha eunwoo

a/n ~im a simp for eunwoo, you’re a simp for eunwoo, let’s be simps for eunwoo~

LMFAO anyway this is the first week w/o true beauty and yes as much as suho’s character was a bit toxic, he was end game and that’s it !! also eunwoo bb worked so hard :’) no one can deny eunwoo’s superb acting skills alright !! and if they do they boutta catch these hands. so here’s a cute little something of basketball player!eunwoo bc im in love with him

pls watch handsome tigers or this tik tok if you wanna indulge in basketball player!eunwoo bc everyone should at least once in their life

→ pairing: basketball player!eunwoo x athletic trainer!reader

→ genre: fluff, lil angst

→ word count: 5.1k ________________________________________________

Your POV

One thing you didn’t expect when you applied to be a student athletic trainer for the university basketball team was to end up dating one of their star players, but here you were: holding hands with Cha Eunwoo–the starting shooting guard–as you two walked into the basketball court.

He gave you a smile and a kiss to the cheek before going off to join his teammates in stretching. You let out a content sigh, watching as he happily greeted the other basketball players, and then went over to the other student trainers.

Usually, you wouldn’t have much to do since the boys were just practicing, but there was someone new joining today, so you and the other trainers had to give her a little rundown on what she signed up for.

“-mostly we just tape up and ice the guys if they have an injury or a muscle strain, but yeah that should be about it. Simple, right?”

The new girl nodded, eyes trained on the court as the team just started their warmups. “Who’s that? Number 97 is hot–”

“And dating y/n.” One of the male trainers, and yours and Eunwoo’s close friend, Rocky said, narrowing his eyes at the new girl as he rested his elbow on your shoulder. “So don’t even think of any ideas to–”

“Rocky,” You scolded hitting his stomach, “Don’t be rude.”

The girl gave you a once over, an uncomfortable smile on your face, as her eyes met yours. “Ah...well, you must have an amazing personality, y/n!”

You were taken aback, did she just call you ugly? You forced a laugh, trying your best not to quip back at her. Rocky, though, had no restraints, “Clearly a better one than yours.”

Before the new girl could respond, the head trainer called her over, a huge sigh of relief coming from you. Rocky clicked his tongue as he stared at her back, “She’s not going to last long with us. I don’t get why you’re so timid when others are clearly insulting you, y/n.”

You rolled your eyes at him. When it came to your friends, it was definitely Rocky and Myungjun who were not afraid to be bold about what they were thinking. “Eunwoo and I have been dating for more than a year now, you don’t think I’m used to people always saying that my boyfriend is out of my league? I just try to ignore it now Rocky c’mon, I know how Eunwoo feels about me and that’s enough.”

“Damn hyung’s handsome face.” The younger male shook his head. You chuckled, the two of you taking a seat on the bench and conversing as the basketball practice went on. During water breaks, Eunwoo would come over to where you and Rocky were sitting, chatting it up with you two in brief increments before resuming practice. He would always pucker his lips up for a peck before leaving, which you would definitely grant and Rocky would pretend to be disgusted.

By the end of their practice, you managed to successfully avoid the new girl, waiting outside the locker room like you always do after bidding Rocky goodbye. Eunwoo smiled once he saw you, immediately draping his arm around your shoulders as he kissed your temple in greeting. “Baby, I’m hungry.”

“Mmm, you want to eat out or order in?” You asked looking up at him.

“Order in, I’m tired.” He said, the two of you already making your way to his car.

As soon as you two arrived back at Eunwoo’s apartment, he immediately plopped down on the couch. You chuckled, lightly smacking his butt, “Baby, go take a shower first, you’re sweaty.”

“Wanna take one with me?” He asked blinking his big beautiful eyes at you. You grinned, the offer was tempting, but you already took a shower earlier today and you wanted to order this food as soon as possible. Eunwoo pouted as you shook your head in rejection, getting up to go the bathroom looking like a kicked puppy.

You turned on the television to whatever variety show was on at the moment, barely paying attention as you were looking through the food delivery app on your phone. You turned your head as Bin walked out of his bedroom, no doubt having just woken up from a nap.

“Oh? You guys are back.” He said sleepily, waving to you.

“Binnie, we’re ordering for dinner, do you want something?” You asked offering him your phone, a laugh leaving you at the boost of energy he received from the word ‘dinner’

“You know a way to man’s heart, y/n.” Bin said jokingly as he started looking through the menu. “By the way, Rocky texted me about that new trainer–rude ass bitch.”

“God you guys spread gossip faster than girls.” You said amused, “I told him earlier, I’m used to people saying stuff like that. It’s whatever.”

“I guess, but you know how sad Eunwoo will be if he finds out this is still going on?” Bin said handing you your phone back. “We’ve been telling you this since the beginning, don’t let other people’s opinions get to you. You’re attractive, y/n! And to Eunwoo, you’re the most beautiful person in the world.”

You smiled, touched by his words of comfort, “Thanks Binnie, ah where would me and Eunwoo be without all of your guys’ support?”

“Nowhere because he wouldn’t have had the balls to confess to you if it wasn’t for us.” He scoffed heading to the bathroom.

“Change your mind, baby?”

“You better stay in the shower! I don’t wanna see your dick while I’m peeing.”

You laughed at their interaction, your attention shifting to the television as you patiently waited for your food and company. Within 30 minutes, the three of you were happily stuffing yourselves full with the takeout, talking up a storm while watching tv. You leaned back against the couch when you felt your stomach capacity maxed out, hands perched on your belly as you groaned, “I can’t eat anymore.”

They looked at you in amusement, Bin laughing while Eunwoo rested his hand on your knee, a fond smile on his face as he told you he’ll finish up your leftovers. The two boys then got engrossed in their own conversation of sorts, you listening quietly to the side as the food coma started to kick in. Somewhere in the midst of their conversation, you settled behind Eunwoo, legs draped next to his body as you snaked your arms around his waist, resting your head on his back. He hummed, still chewing on his food as he took one of your hands and squeezed it.

You started to zone out, their dialogue beginning to sound like a bunch of nonsensical noise. Bin looked over to where you were laying, “I think y/n’s about to knock out.”

Your boyfriend turned his body to get a glimpse of you, grinning as you whined from the shift in movement. He changed your positions so that you were leaning next to his side, his arm around your waist as you rested your head on his shoulder. “Food coma?”

You nodded, snuggling into his side to get comfortable. Bin watched the two of you with a smile, scooping up the last of his food before clapping his hands, “Well! you guys being all cuddly is making me miss my bub...so see you lovebirds tomorrow!”

You snort, eyes still closed as you respond to him, “Aren’t they hanging out with Eunbi right now? I saw it earlier on their Instagram story.”

He shrugs, gathering up the trash, “I’m going to crash their hangout because I want to cuddle too. Have fun you two, good night sweet dreams, use protection...or not, be a little spicy!”

Eunwoo rolls his eyes as he picks up a throw pillow and chucks it at his roommate, “Alright bye Binnie.”

It takes all but five minutes before Bin leaves the apartment. The moment you two were alone, Eunwoo immediately tightened his hold, practically pulling you onto his lap as he laid you both down on the couch, spooning you from behind. You let out a smile, hands on top of his as he kissed your shoulder, “You ran a lot today baby, are your legs okay?”

He cutely nods his head, his chin lightly digging into your skin, “My calves are a bit tight, but I’ll probably just roll them out at the gym tomorrow.”

You hummed, rubbing his arm, “Do you want me to massage your legs?”

“It’s okay baby, we’re both tired. I’ll just do it tomorrow.” He said, not wanting to move from the couch any time soon. You chuckled, turning around so that you faced him, your eyes finally blinking open, “If you wait until tomorrow, your calves are gonna be stiff and sore, you might get a muscle cramp. C’mon baby.”

He kissed your nose in response, “You were literally about to knock out from a food coma five minutes ago.”

“The feeling comes and goes,” You grinned, moving to stand up from the couch. Eunwoo pouted at your absence, but followed your movement anyway, taking your hand as you led him to his bedroom. He obediently laid face down on his bed, waiting as you searched his room for the roller stick. “Can we cuddle after?”

“Yes,” You laughed, giving him a kiss before you sat down next to his legs. “Baby, this is your perk for dating an athletic trainer. I need to make sure you’re in tip top shape.”

“But rolling calves always hurt.” Eunwoo whined, already wincing as you started to apply pressure under the back of his knee. You tried to be gentle at first before really going in with stretching his calf muscles, “that’s because your calves are the tensest muscles in the body, they’re put under a lot of strain and pressure from walking and running so it hurts when you try to relax them.”

“I love when you talk medical to me,” He sighs dreamily. You roll your eyes, pressing down hard on the meat of his calves. You felt bad when Eunwoo started letting out complaints of pain, trying to talk him through it and distract him from the pressure on his legs. “Ow ow baby! It hurts!”

“I know I know, almost done baby, I promise.” You said gently, rolling the stick thoroughly over both calves a couple more times, trying to get rid of all the deep knots that accumulated in his muscles. After deciding that he’s suffered through enough with the stick, you put it to the side and began kneading the heels of your palms through his skin, stimulating his muscles gently after the harsh rolling session. Your hands slowly moved north until they landed on his shoulders, briefly massaging the knots out in his neck as well. You ended up laying next to him, cooing cutely as you pressed a kiss to his cheek, “all done.”

Your boyfriend smiled, pulling you into his chest as he kissed your forehead, “thank you baby.”

“You better not ask any of the other trainers to do this for you,” You pouted, a little bubble of jealousy coming up from the earlier situation at the gym. “Except Rocky, maybe.”

Eunwoo scoffed, running his hands through your hair as he met your eyes, “I would much rather have you give me a massage than Rocky. And hey, you better not offer this treatment to the other guys too or I’ll get jealous. You’re my trainer.”

“Deal.” You grinned hugging him tightly, all feelings of jealousy quenched.

Game days always had a specific schedule to be followed. In the morning, you two were free to do whatever you pleased, but it always ended up with the two of you procrastinating in bed until 11 am. Eunwoo always ate a high-protein high-calorie meal whenever he had games and today’s lunch was no different. After eating, the two of you began to get ready, which included showering and getting dressed.

Today you wore a simple set of jeans a black crop top, finishing your look with the university sports quarter zip, which you were required to wear for every game. After tying your hair up, you turned to your boyfriend who was just starting to dress himself. You took a seat on his bed, marveling at how attractive he looked as he slipped on his jersey and shorts. “I’ll never get over seeing you in your uniform, baby.”

He grinned, placing his arms on either side of your body as he hovered over you, leaning down for a kiss. You expected it to be short and sweet, but Eunwoo had different ideas, lips still working against yours as your back gave in, laying down on the bed. You whined as one of his hands took place on your waist, rubbing at the exposed skin, “Mm, baby, we have to leave soon.”

“I know,” he said moving his lips down your jaw, “I just wanted to kiss you.”

“You can kiss me all you want after your game.” You lightly chuckled, wrapping your arms around his torso in a hug. He nodded, face buried in your neck as he dug his hands under your body, hugging you tightly. You hummed, caressing his hair soothingly, “Are you nervous?”

“A little, I’m always nervous before a game, baby.” Eunwoo said pressing a kiss to your collarbone, “You’ll cheer me on, right?”

“Always,” You said patting his back, “C’mon, we should start heading out soon.”

He nodded, reluctantly getting off of you and pulling your body up with him. You offered your boyfriend a cheerful smile, reaching up to fix the bangs out of his eyes before cupping his cheeks, shaking his face in between your hands, “You’re going to do amazing today baby, as always.”

Eunwoo smiled at your action, pecking your lips again before the two of you did a last-minute search around his room for your belongings. After getting all that you needed, the two of you bid Bin goodbye, telling the swimmer that you’ll see him at the court later. You took your place in the driver’s seat, wanting Eunwoo to just relax for the short drive to the gymnasium. You dropped him off at the entrance first before going to find parking, having Eunwoo arrive early was more important than your arrival anyway.

As soon as you walked into the court, the players were already doing their stretches, your boyfriend in the midst of them all. You glanced at him briefly before greeting the other trainers, the group of you having a quick pre-game discussion of roles before being dismissed to do your own things.

You actively try to avoid the new girl as the time draws closer to the start of the game, not wanting your energy to get dampered. By now, the other team has already arrived and the stands were slowly starting to fill up. You were seated calmly behind the bench, trying to pass the time on your phone, before your boyfriend took the space next to you, hand automatically going on top of your knee. “You ready?”

“As much as I can be,” He grinned rubbing your kneecap, “Wanna come with me to fill up my water bottle?”

You nod, you weren’t doing anything anyway. The male immediately drapes his arm over your shoulders as the two of you walk to the water station, the two of you already getting excited about your dinner plans after the game. The rest of your friends would be joining you, no doubt, as you already spotted them near the front of the student seating.

You were in such a good mood, anticipating the start of what was going to be a good game. Your university was going against their rivals, so expectations for both teams were high. You and Eunwoo were leisurely walking back to the court, he still had a couple more minutes before he needed to join his team.

“Hey, you’re Eunwoo, right? I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Hana, the new student trainer. You’re really good at playing!” The girl said walking up to the two of you. You immediately felt your body stiffen at her appearance, trying not to let it show to your boyfriend. He gives the new girl a polite smile, “Ah thank you.”

“If you need anything, I’ll be more than happy to help you.” She said batting her eyelashes sweetly at him. You pursed your lips tightly, jealousy easily building up inside of you. Eunwoo only laughed awkwardly, “I appreciate it, but y/n’s got everything handled when it comes to me, right baby?”

You nod, trying your hardest not to punch Hana in the face at her blatant attempt to flirt with your boyfriend right in front of you. Eunwoo noticed your discomfort immediately, removing his hand from where it was interlocked with yours before slipping it around your waist, squeezing the skin gently. “Well, it was nice meeting you Hana, but I should go back to the team...I’ll look at you when I need good luck, baby, hm?”

You manage to crack a smile, a little laugh leaving you when he puckered his lips out for a kiss. You step on your tiptoes, granting his wish quickly, before pushing him out towards the court. You turn towards Hana and give her a forced smile before searching for Rocky.

You weren’t surprised to find him in the bleachers, sitting and chatting amongst your group of friends. You go and join them with a light feeling in your chest, greeting the other four of them with hugs.

“How are you doing y/n? You excited?” Jinjin asked as you take a seat next to him.

“Yeah! I mean the guys have a really good chance of winning this one, it’s gonna be a good game.” You smiled clasping your hands together. Rocky only scoffed as he pointed at you, “Bitch, I saw Hana approaching you and Eunwoo hyung, spill.”

You throw the younger male a joking glare, “Nothing gets past you, huh?”

Bin immediately cringed at her name, hand palming his forehead, “Oh God, what did she do?”

You shrugged passively, “She just introduced herself to him and said that if he needed anything, she’ll gladly help him or whatever.”

The boys groaned in response, Sanha reaching over Jinjin to tap your leg, “And? What did hyung say?”

“He let her down gently and said that he goes to me if he needs anything–”

“As he should!” Myungjun said indignantly, crossing his arms in annoyance. Jinjin only nodded, “Good boy.”

“If she even tries to homewreck y/n, just say the word and I’ll scream at her!” Myungjun said in all seriousness. You laugh at his claim, “thanks guys, but I think Eunwoo made it pretty obvious to her so it’s fine.”

The youngest sighed giving you a pout, “You’re too nice, y/n.”

“That’s what I’m saying,” Rocky said agreeing with Sanha, “If I was you and someone was flirting with my partner, I’d clock them right in the face.”

“Hey, I wanted to–”

“You should have,” Bin sighed, “What a shame, maybe next time.”

“I usually don’t advocate for violence, but I’d turn a blind eye for this, y/n.” Jinjin agreed. You rolled your eyes at them, “You know, as much as I love to sit here and get lectured, Rocky and I have to go down to the trainer section.”

“We’ll see you guys later!” Rocky said as the two of you stand to go to the bench, taking your seats with the other trainers–and as far away from Hana as you could.

The game was already intense from the tip-off, both sides in a tight match to get a starting lead. The cheers from the stands were just as heightened, giving energy to both sides during baskets or free throws. Their plays started to get rougher from the beginning of the second half, more and more fouls getting called on both teams.

You and the trainers were busy as well, assessing each player during substitutions and icing whenever they came back to the bench. By the third quarter, your team established a good six-point lead, the energy of your section high from Eunwoo’s back-to-back 3 pointers.

You could distinctly hear Myungjun’s scream as he shouted Eunwoo’s name, a laugh coming from the bench at his volume. You hid your face in Rocky’s back, second hand embarrassment coming from the two of you at your friends’ loud cheering tactics.

You even spotted Eunwoo letting out a smile as both sides prepared for a free throw, your boyfriend giving a thumbs up to the guys in acknowledgement. His gaze then shifted onto you, your cheeks flushing as he shot you a heart-fluttering wink, a smile gluing itself onto your face.

You watched with pride as his concentration zeroed back in on the game, his team playing impeccable defense as they raced to your side of the court. After a couple back and forth relays, your team was on offense, trying to calm down the tensions as they strategized their next play.

It all happened so fast. The opponents stole the ball from your point guard, commencing a fast break. Eunwoo sped across court, the defense of your team depending on him and another player.

“Eunwoo–screen!”

He followed the instructions of his teammate well, placing his body in front of the opponent as he tried to defend your team’s basket. Unfortunately, the momentum of the other player was too much, both players roughly colliding and falling on the court.

You gasped in horror, immediately standing up from your seat as the referee blew the whistle to stop the play. Your teeth dug into your lower lip in worry as Eunwoo remained on the floor, clutching his waist in pain as some players and the referees surrounded him. The head trainer jogged onto the court, kneeling in front of Eunwoo to ask if he was okay.

The gymnasium was quiet, looking on to the scene that was unfolding in the center of the floor. Slowly, the trainer helped Eunwoo stand up, your boyfriend leaning his weight on the male as he limped off to the side, the coach substituting in the other shooting guard in place of Eunwoo. Both sides started clapping in respect, as they always do when someone gets injured during a play.

The head trainer looked to the group of you, “someone help me with Eunwoo.”

Before you could even respond, Hana beat you to the chase raising her hand, “I can help.”

“y/n,” Eunwoo said, eyes only on you. The head trainer looks between you and Hana, sighing, “Decide amongst yourselves, and fast.”

“It’ll give me more experience-”

“No, I want y/n.” Eunwoo said seriously, not even giving her a chance. The head trainer ushers you over, your feet finally taking a step with the help of Rocky pushing you forward. You accidentally shove Hana out of your way as you approach Eunwoo and the trainer, taking some of your boyfriend’s weight as the three of you walk to the locker room.

Once in the locker room, the head trainer immediately started assessing Eunwoo’s waist, trying to determine whether he needed to be sent to the hospital for a scan. Quickly and quietly, you follow the trainer’s lead, offering your assistance when he needed it. All the while, you hold Eunwoo’s hand as your boyfriend was trying not to think of the pain in his lower back.

“Do you think you can walk, Eunwoo?”

“I don’t know, there’s a sharp pain in my waist if I try to turn my body.” Eunwoo said attempting to rotate his upper half.

“No no no, don’t move. Let’s get you to the hospital to make sure there isn’t anything broken.” He sighed taking out his phone to call the medical team, “y/n, I’m sure you’ll be accompanying your boyfriend. Text me Eunwoo’s updates, okay?”

You nodded, briefly leaving Eunwoo’s side to gather both his and your things. Within the next five minutes, a group of EMTs entered the locker room, lifting Eunwoo onto a stretcher and rolling him to an ambulance, you following closely behind.

You didn’t say much on the way too the hospital, your mind too preoccupied with worry and thinking about the worst-possible scenario for your boyfriend. Even when you arrived at the hospital, Eunwoo was immediately whisked away to get some scans and X-rays done, you being escorted to the waiting room in the meantime. It seemed like forever until a nurse approached you, leading you to the room where Eunwoo was being held.

You let out a sigh upon seeing him, almost being moved to tears as he offered you a smile, “You’re smiling? Cha Eunwoo, I oughta–”

“Baby, I’m okay.” He chuckled lightly, hand outstretched to meet yours. You frowned, putting both of your bags down to the side as you took a seat by his bedside, “Are you okay? What did the doctor say? I need to update the trainer and your coach too.”

“Nothing’s broken,” He said first, attempting to ease some of your anxiety. “The doctor said I had a nasty fall that bruised my coccyx so there’s a lot of inflammation to the area. They gave me some pain medication so I don’t really feel anything right now, but I should be discharged tomorrow. And then he gave me a referral to a chiropractor who I’ll see in about two days. But baby, I’m okay, promise.”

“You can’t play though,” You said softly, hands fiddling with his fingers, “I feel like I’m more upset than you.”

“I played hard today so I don’t regret anything.” He said simply, “it sucks that I couldn’t finish the game, but injuries are a part of being an athlete, you know that baby. Besides, from what the doctor said, I shouldn’t be out for too long, maybe just a game or two. I told him I’m in especially good hands because you’re gonna take care of me.”

You said nothing, still not fully believing that he’s taking this situation so well. “Baby...give me a smile, hm? I’ll feel much better if I see you smiling.”

Mustering up the brightest smile that you could, you finally looked up at his face. His features only softened, knowing that you were trying your best to stay strong for him, “Are you still worried?”

“Baby, you’re in the hospital.” You said as if stating the obvious, “How could I not be worried?”

“You’re so cute being all worried about me,” He teased squeezing your hand. You scoffed, finally easing up a little at his flirting. “You laughed! I heard you laugh just now!”

“You’re annoying,” You said as you took out your phone to give the head trainer updates on Eunwoo’s condition. After you pressed send, you immediately received a call from Sanha, “Hello?”

“Is Eunwoo hyung okay?!” “Is he dying?!” “Eunwoo no he’s too young to die!”

You flinched at their loud volume, turning your phone on speaker so that you and Eunwoo could both respond to their chatter. “Guys, he’s not dying.”

“I’m okay,” He laughed taking your phone. “Hold on, did we win?”

“Are you fucking serious? That’s what you wanna know?!” Myungjun scolded into the phone. You chuckled, the guys talking over each other again as they announced they were on the way to the hospital. “They never said if we won or not.”

“I guess you’ll find out when they arrive.” You said, patting his cheek as you stood, removing your sweater. “Do you want some water, baby? I could go get some.”

He shook his head, puckering up his lips for something else. “Please? I’m injured.”

“You’re going to use this to your advantage, aren’t you?” You asked leaning down to grant him a quick kiss. “Maybe.”

After handing Eunwoo his phone, you went to the bathroom for a little bit before coming back and taking a seat on the hospital bed that he so highly encouraged. “If we get scolded by the nurse, I’m blaming it on you.”

“It’s not like you’re laying in bed with me, baby. We’ll be fine.” He said putting his hand on your thigh. He rubbed your cloth of your jeans gently, thinking to himself as you responded to messages on your phone. “Baby, you know I love you, right?”

You made a sound of confusion, looking up from your phone and meeting his eyes, “Hm? Of course I do. I love you too. Why, all of a sudden?”

“Just, when Hana was talking to us earlier and when she volunteered to try and help, I could see that you were uncomfortable.” Eunwoo said gently, “It annoyed me too, to be honest. Like what else did I need to do to show that I’m dating you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” You said stroking his hair, “I’m used to people thinking that they can steal you away just because they’re prettier than me or more handsome than me or whatever. It doesn’t bother me that much anymore, baby––and it shouldn’t bother you too.”

“That’s so fucked up, y/n, how can that not bother me?” He frowned. “You are the most attractive person in my eyes, baby. If anyone pulls this shit again, I swear I won’t let it slide.”

“I know,” You said quietly, kissing his cheek. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” Eunwoo said, “I don’t want you to ever forget that y/n, you’re mine and no one can do anything to change that.”

“Mmm, I’m lucky that you and the guys always defend me, aren’t I?” You lightly smiled, “God, you have no idea how many times Rocky cursed Hana out in the past week.”

“As he should,” Eunwoo nodded kissing the back of your hand, “see, this is why they’re my friends.”

“Speaking of our friends.” You said looking at the door, “I can hear them coming.”

Your boyfriend chuckled, both of your attentions at the door, which shortly was opened by five boisterous guys. The sound in the hospital room suddenly increasing tenfold at their appearance, all five of them crowding and fussing around the bed. You giggled, sharing a look with Eunwoo as the guys started talking all at once. He grinned, listening until the end of their rambles. Although he was injured, Eunwoo noticed that he couldn’t be feeling any happier. He had no doubt that he would have a speedy recovery, especially if you and his best friends were right by his side. _______________________________________

2-12-21

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gumnut-logic · 3 years

Text

Census

After my little hissy fit last night about not being able to write, I spent all day today doing exactly that. 5000 words later and we have this rambling fic. I had to fill in our Census today, so I figured the Tracys could too. It went places I did not expect.

There are a couple of anachronisms in this fic. It is based in 2060 for census reasons, but I mention at least two characters interacting with the Tracys from later seasons. Please ignore and enjoy anyway :D

There are also a couple of vague references to ship, but no real ship, I promise.

Thank you in particular to @katblu42 and @willow-salix and the other members of Thunderfam who kindly checked on on me last night while I was bemoaning my inability to write. Sorry if I was exasperating. I have a degree in that. If it helps, no one gets more annoyed with me than I do ::hugs you lots::

Rambly, mostly brotherly conversations and doesn’t really go anywhere, but I hope you enjoy it anyway.

-o-o-o-

How Gordon got there first was no mystery. Virgil was just too damned tired after three rescues in a row and Scott had been tied up with Tracy Industries for most of the day. Grandma could possibly have been on it if she hadn’t been filling in for John who had broken out his exo-suit to yank a couple of free floaters out of the sky.

He was still muttering about idiots and safety. His mood was not improved by the fact Grandma insisted he come down for the night so he could be counted.

Consequently, his muttering also included cursing bureaucracy even though Virgil knew census night was a favourite of the astronaut.

Perhaps Gordon got to the form first because he knew everyone else was tired and grumpy and needed a kick in the pants. Virgil had to admit with a fond thought that his little brother was prone to throwing joke bombs amongst them when the mood was through the floor.

Virgil had no issues wondering why Alan wasn’t the one poking at the form. Their resident teenager wasn’t interested at all.

“Okay, guys. What is our address? What did we put last time?”

Alan didn’t even look up from his game. “Tracy Island.”

Gordon, who was sitting at Dad’s desk, staring at the holographic form, hesitated. “Did Dad register that with the powers that be?”

“What?” Alan really wasn’t paying any attention at all.

Virgil sighed. He was sitting on the couch with one of his uniform boots on his lap attempting to pick out several penetrating objects out of the sole. His last rescue had been a collapsed factory and he was still trying to work out what exactly it was that they made that could penetrate his specialist footwear.

Fortunately, despite multiple incursions, he only had a scratch on his left foot, more an annoyance than anything, but these objects were frustrating and suspicious.

“Dad did all the right things. Tracy Island is the official name now.” The pliers weren’t quite gripping the piece of metal properly. The grip slipped and Virgil swore.

“Now? What was it called before?”

“Deserter’s Rock.” Scott strode in from the kitchen, a coffee in hand, and grimace on his face. His usually perfect hair was scruffy, as if he had been running his hands through it.

Virgil frowned up at him. “You okay?”

His brother took the steps down into the lounge and sighed. “Nothing a holiday won’t fix.” It was Scott’s turn to frown. “What’s with the boot?”

“Deserter’s Rock? Really?”

It was John who answered, very much like Alan, staring into his tablet and barely paying attention. “Really. Three sailors were stuck here for months. Only one survived. That’s why there is a cairn on Tracy Peak.”

“I thought that was a pile of rocks put there by Dad.” Gordon seemed genuinely surprised. “You mean there are two dead guys on the Island?”

“Along with their ghosts, yeah.” John still didn’t look up.

“Ghosts?” Alan did look up at that, eyes wide. “What ghosts?”

“The one’s who keep stealing my Bailey’s ice cream.”

“Oh.” Alan went back to playing his game, his eyes definitely not darting between John and Gordon at all.

“Okay, moving on…so where do I put ‘Tracy Island’ in this thing? It’s not a suburb, state or territory…do we have a postcode?”

“It’s a locality. Shove it in there.” Virgil grit his teeth and yanked hard at the piece of metal embedded in his boot. A grunt and a flex of heavy lifting muscles and…it didn’t move at all. What the hell?

“Okay, whatever.” Gordon half sung ‘Tracy Island, Kermadec Ridge, South Pacific Ocean’ to himself as he entered it into the form. At least he was being specific. Virgil glared at his boot.

“Next. Who gets to be head of household? Oh, the Householder?” A pause in which Virgil poked at his boot, Scott sipped his coffee with closed eyes, Alan killed three zombies with a grin and John sat motionless still staring at his tablet.

“Okay, then. It’s me.” Gordon grinned to himself.

Nobody looked up, but all four other brothers said simultaneously and in chorus. “It’s Grandma.”

Virgil flexed his hand and picked up his pliers again. Peripherally, he watched Gordon’s shoulders drop. Even the Fish couldn’t argue with that.

“Fine. It’s Grandma.” He reached up and touched the box to open that section of the form. “Where is she anyway?”

Virgil tried to get a better grip on another chunk of metal in his boot. “Yoga. Don’t disturb her.” Yoga was Grandma’s mindfulness time and after today, it was well overdue. “Leave her be.”

“I wasn’t going to. Sheesh. So, name. Sally Tracy.” He typed in her name. “Person two?”

“Scott Tracy.” Okay, so Virgil had a bit of a thing about this. His brother deserved acknowledgement for everything he had done.

Gordon glared at him. “And so I guess the rest of us are in age order?”

Virgil flipped his boot over. “Whatever floats your boat, fishboy.” A glance in Scott’s direction and he had to wonder if his brother had fallen asleep, he was that still. The coffee mug in his hand was the only proof of consciousness.

Virgil fought the urge to save it. “Scott, you wanna go to bed?”

“Wha-?” His brother sat up. “I’m fine.” Fortunately, he put the coffee mug down. The chances of Virgil having to treat burns tonight dropped significantly.

“How do you spell ‘Hackenbacker’?”

Virgil did not grace that with an answer as it was obviously a stupid question.

John was apparently on auto as he spouted off the required letters anyway while still staring at his tablet.

Gordon poked at the form in silence for a little while and Virgil wondered what on Earth he was entering. He trusted his brother. This was an official document, after all, but he was still Gordon.

“Okay, guys, I need your information.”

Beside Virgil, Scott ‘woke up’. “What, no questions about Grandma?”

Gordon frowned at his eldest brother. “I’ll have you know that I know our grandmother very well. We have a special kind of relationship.”

Alan snorted.

“What? You got something to say, sprout?” The fish glared at Alan enough to torch him on the spot.

“I’m just saying that after that time with Grandma’s diver’s license, you should know Grandma’s details very well. Her birthdate, her ancestry, her suit measurements…”

A starfish plushie suddenly had a very short career as a ninja star and bounced off Alan’s head. “Shut up, Alan.”

Their little brother only giggled more.

John, still staring at his tablet, raised an eyebrow. “Allie, Grandma baked some cookies yesterday. I think there are still some in the cupboard. Would you like some?”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” Alan threw the plushie at his fish brother, missing completely, and went back to playing his game. There was muttering about Gordon making jokes but Alan not being allowed to.

Virgil sighed to himself.

“Scotty, what’s your age? It’s 2060 for reference. Oh, and your gender.”

All signs of sleep fell away and Scott sat up. “Gordon…” It was all warning.

“Hey, I’m just giving you the opportunity to offer an alternative. After all, tonight you look at least fifty-six.”

“I’m thirty-one and you know it.”

Gordon poked at the form. “Thirty-one years young. Got it.”

Scott grunted at him.

“Virg, are we telling the truth this time?”

“Depends on whether you want me to leave you in the ocean next time.” Why the hell couldn’t he get this out of his boot?

“To threat level already, you are grumpy tonight.”

“Gordon…” Virgil echoed Scott from earlier to the note.

“Johnny?”

“No one named ‘Johnny’ lives here.”

Gordon signed. “John Glenn Tracy, how would you like me to record your age?”

“Accurately.”

“Fine.”

“If I say I’m thirty-two, do I get to go higher up on the form?” Alan looked hopeful.

“If you like.” Gordon moved things around on the display.

Virgil gave up. The locality of Tracy Island was destined to be a statistical anomaly anyway. At least it would be an interesting one.

Besides, John would probably hack it later and fix it. The fact he had hardly protested so far was eminent proof of that security factor.

“Scotty, are you the husband or wife of Grandma?”

Scott rubbed his face and didn’t bother to answer, picking up his coffee again and burying his face in it.

Virgil just wished he would go to bed. The man was a zombie.

Gordon took the hint and was quiet for a little while. Virgil went back to tugging on his boot. Maybe he should take this down to his workshop.

The thought of actually working more had his shoulders slumping enough to alert Scott. The concerned and questioning look shot in his direction had Virgil sitting up a little straighter to fend it off.

“John, where should we put your usual place of residence?”

“Here.”

“But you live in space.”

“So do you.”

“Pedantic much?”

“As necessary. Tracy Island is home. Thunderbird Five is merely in our astronomical backyard, not to mention secret.”

Virgil looked up at that. It was a simple statement, but it was good to hear that John still considered Tracy Island home despite his multiple protests over the years.

“Fine. Secret space station wasn’t an option anyway. I could flub it and use Global One but then that would spark all those rumours about you and that captain all over again.”

“Gordon, I can hack your bank accounts.”

“Go for it.”

“I can also hack your fish tanks.”

The aquanaut shot to his feet. “You touch my tanks and you’re dead, spacehead.”

John didn’t react other than to smile just a little.

Their space brother could be a right royal ass when he wanted to be. Virgil sighed. “John, you know the rules.”

He shrugged. “Didn’t break any.”

“You touch my tanks, I’m spicing up your atmosphere on Five. I’m not kidding. I have fart gas resources even you can’t find.” Gordon was still on his feet and actually appeared angry.

John shuddered. “TMI, Gordo. Not interested in your gas capacity, honestly.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Calm down, Gords, John’s not doing anything to your fish tanks. He knows the rules, don’t you, John.” He arched a prompting eyebrow at his brother.

“Never said I didn’t.”

Definitely an ass.

“Gordon, calm down. You can put John’s relationship to you in as ‘nemesis’ if it makes you feel better.”

“I can only put in our relationship to Grandma. I wrote favourite grandson in yours.”

It was Virgil’s turn to shrug. “I’m not going to complain. Sit down and finish the form.”

His brother didn’t answer, but he did sit down, albeit still glaring at John.

John had gone back to his tablet, doing who knew the hell what.

Definitely an ass.

Virgil turned back to Gordon. “What’s the next question, Gords?”

The glare switched to Virgil for a second before turning to the form. “Where were we born?”

“Kansas.”

“I know that. What about Grandma, Brains and Kayo?”

“Space.” Alan said it with triumph.

“What?”

“Where John lives. Isn’t that what the question was?” Alan stared between his brothers.

“Go back to sleep, Alan.”

“Grandma was born in Kansas, Brains was born in India, and Kayo was born here.” Scott proved he was still awake by suddenly providing information enough to make Virgil jump.

Gordon poked at the form, but nothing further was said on that front. Everyone knew Kayo was sensitive about her past, and while she wasn’t in the room, she would find out and partially kill anyone responsible.

“Kayo is here tonight, isn’t she?”

Virgil yanked on his boot again, slipped and managed to elbow Scott in the ribs. His brother grunted.

“Oh, shit, sorry. You okay?” He shoved the boot aside and the pliers along with it.

Scott eyed him and rubbed his side. “That answers your question, Gordon. Kayo is on a conference call with Captain Rigby.”

Virgil glared at Scott.

Gordon eyed the both of them. “Is there something you two aren’t telling the class?”

“Shut up, Gordon.” Virgil glared at Scott a moment longer, enough to have his brother’s expression fall into one of concern. Grabbing his boot again, Virgil went back to wrestling with embedded metal. Damned specialised rubber was amazing when it protected him but when its tolerances were overrun, it was a pain to fix. Maybe he should ask Max to give it a yank. “What entertaining religion are you using this time, Gords?” Any attempt to get the conversation off this topic.

Gordon stared at him a moment, obviously still trying to work out what the hell happened there.

Scott was dead later; Virgil was going to make sure of it. Tired or not, he had crossed a line.

A sideways look in his eldest brother’s direction and it was obvious Scott realised that. Okay, maybe he could let it go. It had been a long day and they were all tired.

Probably should go to bed.

He went back to fighting with his boot.

Gordon was still staring but even the fish knew when to shut up apparently, because the next words out of his mouth were entirely religious.

“I’m worshiping Neptune this year.”

Alan frowned. “I thought you said that last time.”

“Dad wouldn’t let me.”

That brought the whole room to a standstill. Last census was ten years ago. Flashback to that time brought everything that had changed into the bright glaring light. The biggest change being Dad’s absence. But even more, ten years ago they were still based in Kansas, IR was in development, but not yet a reality. Alan was only six, Gords eleven and with his body still intact…it was a completely different time. Virgil was still in college and had to fill in his own census form in Denver.

Gordon broke the looming silence with a determined smile. “This time the government gets the truth. Scott bows to the sky gods, Virg worships molemen, Johnny is a god, and Alan is Satan.

“Hey!” It was said by multiple brothers at once.

Only John remained calm. He even had a smile. “In that case, I want bagels every Sunday.”

“You get bagels every Sunday. Virg sends them up all the time.” Alan glared at his space brother – Alan did not like bagels.

John grinned wider. “I’ll take that as proof that I have at least one faithful worshipper.”

“Next time you can get your own bagels.” Virgil glared at his brother.

Gordon snorted. “Yeah, right, you old softie. John could blow up Two and you’d still send him his bagels.”

Virgil found himself glaring at Gordon again. It seemed to be a theme tonight. “Short pier, long walk, Gordon, go for it.”

He got a smirk for that. “Don’t mind if I do. A little night diving is quite spectacular around here.”

Virgil ignored him and went back to his boot…which he had made zero progress on for all the time he had been sitting here, damnit.

“Does Virgil ever ‘need someone to help with or be with him for self-care, body movement, or communication activities’?” Gordon typed into the form. “Before coffee.”

Virgil ignored him some more as Alan took the bait and snickered. “Better watch it, Gords. Won’t be long before ‘before coffee’ time kicks in. Look at him, he’s already brewing.”

The piece of metal in his boot finally shifted a little. Thank goodness.

“Long term health conditions.” Gordon slumped in his seat. “Well, isn’t this cheerful.”

“Just fill it in, Gordon.” Scott’s words were little more than a sigh.

That left a gaping silence. Gordon tapped a lot at the keyboard filling in far too much. More for himself, obviously, but then there was John and his space issues, and they all had been diagnosed with something on the list hanging above their father’s desk.

Except Alan, who could not be left out. Virgil pretended to not be able to read the word ‘zombification’ next to his little brother’s name.

“Schooling? Oh man, John, you can write all the letters after your name. I can never remember them all.”

“Not a problem.” The astronaut poked at his tablet and the hologram in front of Gordon sprouted half the alphabet.

“Really? Did you get a new one?” He stared at John. “When did you get time for that?”

John shrugged. “Made time.”

“What’s this one for?”

“Oceanography.”

“What?”

“You were in the ocean. I didn’t know enough to help. So I fixed the problem.”

Gordon just stared.

Virgil, of course, knew. He had been the one to field John’s version of panic the day he didn’t know enough to help Gordon. John was practical. He saw a problem, he fixed it. Oceanography wasn’t an obvious topic for the starman, but he was a genius and that genius could be applied where he wished it to be.

If Virgil had found himself helping John at a few points that intersected with his specialities along the way, he was just going to take a little comfort from being able to return the favour after years of borrowing his brother’s brains for other topics.

And besides, it had meant he had been able to spend a little extra time with John. Always a good thing.

Despite him being the occasional ass.

Gordon was still staring. “Is that why you bugged me to take you out in Four?”

John shrugged. “Partly. Didn’t mind spending a bit of time with you either. Good experience to familiarise myself with Four as well.”

The stare continued.

“Be careful you don’t catch any flies with your mouth open.”

The stare became a glare. “We’re talking about this. You and me.”

“Sure.”

Gordon looked like he didn’t know whether to yell at him or run over and hug his brother. Virgil was voting for the latter.

But everything was interrupted by a sudden snore and snort.

Virgil turned to Scott and found his brother startled awake, likely by his own snore.

“Wha-?”

“Scott, you need to go to bed.”

“I’m fine.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Do I need to pick you up and carry you?”

“I’m fine.” He waved Virgil away, sat up straighter and attempted to guzzle whatever was left of his probably cold coffee.

“Idiot.”

“What?”

“Go to bed.”

“No. We need to finish the census.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Because I want to.”

“Why?”

“Can you stop that?”

“Can you go to bed?”

“No!”

“You need sleep.”

“I can manage my own health, thank you, Doctor Virgil.” He folded his arms across his chest. “I am an adult.”

“Sometimes.”

“Virgil!”

Gordon let off a loud snort. “That’s it. I’m putting you two in as married.”

“Gordon!” Both of them, in chorus. It was apparently a theme tonight.

“Well, you both argue like an old married couple, what can I do?”

“You can shut up and move onto the next question.”

Gordon poked his tongue out at Scott, but he didn’t stop grinning and Virgil was forced to hold back a smile himself.

Bratty little fish.

He was still smirking when he said, “Employment.”

“Oh god.” Scott sank back onto the couch and rubbed his face with his hands.

There followed a book’s worth of employment activities.

“Rocket surfing is not an occupation, Gordon.” Virgil sighed.

“Why not? Both Scott and Allie surf rockets.”

“Alan rides a rocket sled and Scott is just trying to give me grey hair.”

“Has he succeeded yet?” Bratty fish.

“None of your business.”

“So is International Rescue paid or unpaid work?” Gordon was frowning at the form.

“Unpaid.” Scott’s tone was sharp.

“So are we unemployed, employed or self-employed?”

“Self-employed.”

“How much do you earn a year, Scotty?”

Their eldest brother paused as if calculating, but then threw up a hand. “Stuffed if I know.”

John snorted and rattled off a number.

“There isn’t enough space for that many zeros here, John.”

“Give me a moment.”

The display in front of Gordon flickered and each of their names received a variety of numbers…except for Alan.

“Hey, how come I don’t have any earnings?”

“You are a minor.” John spoke calmly, as if speaking to a minor.

“But I do stuff for Tracy Industries, I do.”

“All your income is held in trust, you know that.”

“Then who is paying for all that popcorn I bought this morning?”

Scott sighed. “Don’t worry, you’re not going to bust the bank.”

“We own the bank.”

Scott stared at John. “When did we buy a bank?”

“I bought it for your birthday last year but forgot to give it to you.”

“Oh.”

“I’m writing obscenely rich next to all our names. Oh, except for you, Allie. You’re a pauper.”

“Hey! You suck, Fishbrain.”

“Remember who might need to lend you money in the next couple of years…”

“While Gordon remembers who lent him money in the past, who still helps him with his finances, and who also is the one to fish him out of the ocean after every mission.” Virgil pinned Gordon with his eyes.

Gordon blinked. “You have a point.” A pause as a smile crept over his face. “Who was that again?”

The hologram of the census form wobbled as a lounge cushion flew through it and hit Gordon squarely in the face.

“Right on target. Hmm, I’ve still got it.” Scott blew imaginary smoke off a finger gun.

Unfortunately, Scott may have still had it, but he wasn’t the best marksman on this census form. The cushion rebounded via aquanaut and hit Scott squarely in the face with an oomph.

This forced both Virgil and Alan to come to his defence and for a full ten minutes after that, it was an all-out pillow fight between the brothers. Even John was drawn in as Gordon came up behind him and tried to stuff one down the back of his shirt.

Which wasn’t advisable since his gravity support was still in play. But then John was king of the noogie and immediately grabbed a head full of strawberry blond hair, dragged it down onto the couch beside him and made sure it received the full-on noogie treatment.

Gordon did squawk quite a bit.

An extreme one-on-one joust erupted between Scott and Alan. It was that determined that Virgil had to back out. Alan, being the terrier he was, managed to get Scott on his back on the lounge and sat on him pummelling him with pillows.

Virgil had suspicions that the game was rigged.

In any case, he had to find somewhere else to sit and tinker with his boot.

Eventually, Gordon found his way back to the census form. Scott was still on his back and apparently Alan had decided he preferred that his big brother stay that way by sitting on him and playing his computer game. Scott at least had a remaining cushion under his head, but one foot had taken out a pot plant and the other was hanging over the back of the sofa. His brother really was too tall for lying on the seating arrangements, but he didn’t seem to care.

With a bit of luck he might fall asleep.

“Okay, let’s finish this. How did you get to work today?” Gordon grunted. “This form has no rockets, planes, submarines or space elevators on it.”

“Tick the ‘other’ box and let them work it out.” John let out a yawn.

Virgil eyed him.

John screwed up his face and poked out his tongue.

Wha-“ Virgil blinked.

“Hey, Virg, how many hours did you work last week?”

That distracted him enough to turn to Gordon. “How the hell do I know?”

“You worked them. I bet you know your flight hours.”

“Today’s. Not last week. That was last week.”

“Eos, send Gordon last week’s record?”

The AI chimed in at her father’s request. “Yes, John.”

Another document appeared in front of Gordon. “Wow, that much? Really?”

“The documentation is correct as recorded.” Eos sounded a little miffed. But then she never particularly liked Gordon on the best of days.

His fault, of course.

“Virg, you win, but only by a bit over Scott and that was because he twisted his ankle on Monday.”

“Sprained, you mean.”

“Twisted.” It came from the couch and was strangled by a little brother.

“Sprained. He should have been off for several days, but he’s an idiot.”

“You can’t talk, Mr Bruised-not-cracked.”

“At least I’m not Cracked-not-broken.”

“Sure.”

Scott might have said more but Alan whacked him with a pillow. “You guys are idiots. Gords, John and I are lucky our grey hairs don’t show.” Alan growled. “I’m sixteen, for crying out loud, and I know more about hospitals than I ever wanted to. Look after yourselves, you morons.”

Silence hit the room again.

“Way to go, Allie. You tell ‘em.” Gordon’s words were honest.

Of course, Scott was devastated and immediately questioning all his life choices. Virgil wasn’t far behind, but Scott, in particular had a sensitive spot where Alan was concerned.

“Hey.” He reached out a hand and rested it on their little brother’s arm. “Talk to me, Allie.”

Alan growled again. “I’m fine as long as you two look after yourselves. We kinda need you, you know.”

Scott grabbed his little brother and dragged him down into a hug. “I’m sorry.”

Virgil sat with his boot in his lap needing to grab both his brothers but not wanting to interrupt their moment.

He shouldn’t have worried. A second later Gordon jumped over the back of the couch, landed beside him and grabbed him, dragging him sideways into an oomph of a hug. “Don’t worry, my dear wingman, we still love you even if you are an idiot.”

“Gordon…”

“Admit it, you want a hug.”

“Shut up.”

Gordon didn’t say anything further, but he did squeeze tighter.

“When you get to the questions on whether any of us looked after children, Gordon, tick yes for all of us.” John’s tone was as dry as a desert.

“Will do.” Gordon grinned at him.

Scott actually fell asleep after that. It was about time. Apparently, Alan made a great teddy bear.

Alan grumbled about that for days, but Virgil knew his little brother treasured his relationship with Scott and the fact he fell asleep as well was rather telling.

But that fact pretty much ended the census form filling for that night.

The next morning saw all of them out on an earthquake and it wasn’t until two days later that Gordon realised they hadn’t submitted the form.

Grabbing Scott and Virgil, he ran them through the last of the questions, landing on the definitions of their dwelling.

“How many registered motor vehicles do we have at this dwelling?”

“Er, none? We have no roads.” Virgil frowned at the obvious answer.

“Three rockets, two planes and a submarine don’t count?”

An arched eyebrow. “Does it say anything about planes? Tracy Two and Three are registered in Aotearoa.”

“Aotearoa is not the United States.”

“But they are still registered.”

Scott sighed. “Read the form properly, guys. It says exclude heavy vehicles.”

“Well, that strikes Virg off the list, but your ‘bird’s a pansy.”

That earned Gordon a mocking whack up the back of the head.

“Gords, just write zero. The intent is there.”

“Fine. We have no motor vehicles. Stupid form.” A sigh. “Okay, how many bedrooms do we have?”

Scott answered that one. “Ten.”

“I thought it was twelve.”

“One went to an art studio and the other to a music recording room.”

Gordon glared at Virgil. “Way to take over the house, bro.”

“And how many fish tanks do you have in how many rooms? Not to mention the chunk of vegetable garden we had to sacrifice for Rover’s pond?”

“Leave Rover out of this. That wasn’t his fault.”

Virgil snorted. “Not his.”

“Shut up.”

Scott sighed again. “We have ten bedrooms.” He scanned the rest of the form, which thankfully wasn’t very long. “We own the place outright, and yes, they can archive our information for our grandkids to access. Tick the boxes and get this sent so I can go get some lunch.”

“Yes, Commander.”

Scott growled but Gordon ignored him.

Boxes all ticked, he hit the submit button.

“This form has already been submitted. You may not submit it again.” Underneath was the date of the day before census night. “What the hell? How could we open it if - ” Scott hit his comms. “John!”

John’s hologram flickered up beside the misbehaving census form. “I’m between a hurricane in Bermuda and an avalanche in the Pyrenees. How may I help you?”

“What?!”

“Oh, the census form. Eos submitted that three days ago.” Their space brother was distracted a moment out of pick up range as Scott’s jaw dropped. “Needed to get it done before Gordon got his hands on it. Besides, we can’t guarantee we wouldn’t have been called out anyway, so I got it done beforehand.”

“Then why the hell were we going through the damned thing on census night?”

John blinked. “You had fun, didn’t you? We shared an evening together.”

Virgil joined both his brothers at staring at John.

The astronaut just smirked back at them. “You did a great job, Gordon. Thanks.” The smirk turned into a grin. “Thunderbird Five out.” His hologram disappeared.

Scott’s face curdled. “I’m going to kill him.”

Virgil let his shoulders drop and sighed. “You said that last time he did something like this, and he’s still kicking.”

“I’m soaking his underwear in saltwater.” Gordon had that fire in his eyes that usually preceded a Tracy Island Armageddon.

“Gords…”

“He played me, Virg. He knew what I would do and played me. He thinks I’m predictable!”

“Yeah, but he obviously did it for the right reasons.”

Virgil found himself the target of two glares. “What? You want a group hug or something? C’mere.” And he grabbed the both of them, wrapping his arms around them. “Happy Census Night.”

The grumbling was worth it.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Virgil Tracy #Gordon Tracy #John Tracy #Scott Tracy #Alan Tracy

63 notes · View notes

bakugohoex · 4 years

Note

I was rewatching death note and when L did his monster speech this request was born! So the idea is Bakugo and iida (separately ) with a s/o who has trust issues and is liar ,nothing extremely serious like betraying them! More like smaller stuff? They probably confront them asking why they lie so much!”

({and btw if you haven’t herd L’s monster speech you should for inspiration buts that’s your choice! Have a happy holiday!✨)

“y/n just tell me the fucking truth for once”

pairing: katsuki bakugo x female reader

cw: this long sorry, violence, language, some topics of abuse but it isn’t in detail, kissing and fluff

word count: 5200+

a/n: hi sorry i don’t write for iida cause i find him really annoying and i don’t think i have the facilities to write him, but i do write bakugo so here it is, also i love the L speech sm and anything in italics is either a reference to the speech or directly incorporates the speech, have a happy rest of the holiday as well

summary: in which you were raised by villains, by being saved by the heroes, the trust issues and lying you were brought upon reflects you now, bakugo grows ever more frustrated at your lying and all your truths come out

↞ back to my hero academia masterlist

The echo of the wind bashing against the windowsill roared through the commission, the white walls cascaded around you, it was painful and enduring at how you sat in the middle of the silent room. Waiting. No. Watching, you were listening and seeing those around you, a muzzle around your mouth to surpress your voice. Your wrists coated with the metal handcuffs, you were trapped, and you being stalked by those around you.

“Miss Y/l/n, we have found your family.” The voice is loud and monotone, you didn’t care, fuck your family, fuck what they did to you, fuck them.

Unable to move your hands to put a middle finger up at the camera, one movement causing an electrifying bolt run through your arms. You hated being here, you would rather fend for yourself on the streets than be involved in a hell hole like this.

“No words of happiness.” The sound of a certain pro hero caught your ears, the one who had captured you, held you against your will, locked you in this room. Number two pro hero Hawks.

“You can kill them for all I care.” Your voice dripped with malice not looking up at him.

Monsters who will not show themselves and will cause trouble.

You heard him say something quietly behind him before the jingle of keys were heard. He walked to the handcuffs undoing them, the muzzle clenched against your face, leaving sore marks, he grabbed at it making you face him. You were about to activate your quirk, but he quickly let go making you stop.

“We’re sending you to UA.” You eyes widened, what did a shitty school like UA need with a villain like you.

He looked at your sore wrists, before the signs of the bruises vanished underneath your thumb which you had been rubbing against the purple. He watched you touch your neck which had bruises from being pushed to the ground, all disappearing in a single touch. “A school like that doesn’t need me.”

“Of course it does, your quirk can be used for good.” He softly speaks sitting beside you on the white floor. The room was suffocating, and you wanted to leave it as soon as you could.

“I can’t, I know how to kill, I was raised to kill.” You put your hands to your face, getting rid of the cuts that erupted on your face, with an instance it was all gone. “If I touch you and activate my quirk, I could break you.”

He looks at your tired eyes, a child broken and used by your family to become a villain. “I’ll make a deal with you.”

It gains your attention and with an instance you look at the man, he holds his hand out you grab it with ease, his fingers were soft, you could imagine them breaking under your touch. He guides you out of the room, you walked past to where many other rooms which you assumed where blank and lifeless. Before seeing a window, it was to another room, you saw a woman in bed, she was bandaged up but the silver around her wrist made you in an instance know who it is.

“Your mother she’s dying, the families she ruined wont get proper justice, but I’ll let you go in, you can scream, shout hell you can kill her yourself, but you will join UA.” The sound of being able to kill her, kill the woman who had stolen you away.

“She’s not my mother, she found me.” They were never your family; they had seen you at such a young age and stolen you to indoctrinate.

Monsters who abduct children.

He nods already knowing, “we’ll lock the door.” All that flashed through your eyes was murder, she had taken it all from you, you never wanted to see her family, her stupid husband and her stupid son, you hated them all and you were going to kill her.

The sound of the door locking made you move towards her, she looked up thinking you were hear to save her. “My daughter.” The words were careless and made you angrier.

“I was never your daughter…” You pause her frail fingers had started to wrinkle and her face becoming grey and hair patchy.

“Y/n.” He breathing was rough, but you didn’t care, with an instant you went up to her exposed hands.

A smile formed on your lips, maybe you were a sadist, but you could do one last villainous action, make her fie even quicker, make her beg for forgiveness. Then you would go to UA, you would forget about the torture, forgot about them. You would become something a lot more than they had ever expected.

“I’m going to kill you.” It was comical but her face fell.

“You heartless bitch.” She shouted, “you fucking bitch, no wonder nobody loves you.” You didn’t care about her words smiling away.

The way her fingers cracked under your touch, each bone breaking the screams filling the room. You didn’t care touching even more of her before you moved directly to her heart. Hawks had heard the screams ignoring it maybe it was wrong of him to let you do this. But you deserved justice, your hand moved on top of her chest.

“Y/n…please.” She begged it was heaven in your ears, the woman who had tormented you was begging for you too stop and what else could you do but disagree. She had clinged onto your wrist, tightening her grip, unable to use her own quirk due to the medication, this was your only chance.

Hawks knew it was over, opening the door to see you walk out, he looked at you expecting some emotion but was brought with happiness, almost joy. “Where are the other two?”

“You’ll see them again when they’re locked up, but that’s it, you cant kill them.” You nodded, you’d find a way, you’d find a way to kill them both, but you kept your composure.

The day flew past he explained how you’d have to lie, pretend your life was normal. But the main thing he wanted you to know was.

“If you kill any of them, I’ll be the one to kill you Y/n.” You nod, you had a straight face for most of his lecture, but you felt like he was trying to replace the adult figures you had had in your life. “If you get into any trouble, call me or just want to know how to act human, I know you haven’t been in the best education, but this is a fresh chance.”

“Okay.” It was simple and whilst sleeping in the commission in a much better area with colour and natural light. You watched the sky, watched how the stars danced around the moon, you admired it from a far but oh how you wished to see it up close.

The night was calming, and you were restless, but it wasn’t out of fear of going to UA, it was of fear they would find out who you were. Find out you were a villain, find out that you had caused deaths along the way. You were confident in your abilities, but they were new people, you had been surrounded by A rank and B rank villains all your life. Hell you had been classed as an A rank villain but now you would become something in life.

Hawks hadn’t bothered to tell you about your real parents, all that was known was you had been on the streets, you were a nobody and you would remain like that if you tried hard enough. The night had led to a lack of sleep with tossing and turning, the nightmares blaring through your head. The torment the way they would use your quirk at the tender age of five to kill and kill again.

Monsters who devour dreams.

The sound of coughing woke you up in your slumber, you hadn’t grown close to the winger hero. But he was trying, he gave you your new uniform, helped you pack a bag with everything and even gave encouraging words along the way.

The uniform was gross but after being trapped for weeks in solitude you were finally getting human contact, experiencing the world. “I’ll help you settle in; the teachers know your…past.” You nod, he was avoiding it and so were you, the drive being filled with silence.

Your gaze had been out the window, the hues of red and yellow cascaded through the sky, it was beautiful. A month ago the only thing you had seen was thick concrete walls, murder only occurring inside of the building you had called home for years.

“We’re here.” He whispers opening the door for you, taking your bags he watches you hit the air and feel the sun, “I think that’s the first time I’ve seen you smile.”

Your surpress the smile looking down, “make friends Y/n.” You nod, you were able to make friends, of course you were it was the not sticking out like a sore thumb that bothered you.

These people will have known each other for a month’s now but you, you weren’t normal. Hawks gave a smile walking you inside the building, “I’ll go drop your bags off to your new room once you’ve settled in.”

You walked past the doors, before arriving in front of a humongous door, shrugging at how Hawks spoke about the class. “The league tried to get them.” You mutter out. “They had talked to Shigaraki about it prior, we were going to go with them but my bro…he got sick.”

It was a lie of course; it wasn’t that he had gotten sick. You had touched him; broken his arm and you had been punished in an instant. You were made to sleep in the rain, eat off the ground, it was torture and you had felt sucked to death.

Monsters who suck blood.

Hawks nods, you misspeaking made you nervous, this was the first time you would be talking and listening to people who you weren’t about to kill. The door opened and you didn’t dare face the class, the teacher who you assumed was Aizawa stood in a sleeping bag, you dismissed it knowing how powerful his quirk was.

“We’ve got a new student today, Y/n Y/l/n and pro hero Hawks is here.” The shock on there faces was something, but it felt more to Hawks than it was to you.

“I’ll be leaving I’ll call tonight.” You nod at Hawks watching him leave with your stuff, your bag hanged loosely on your shoulder. You analysed them all, scanning up and down before you saw the boy who you knew Shigaraki had captured, the Katsuki Bakugo and Izuku Midoriya who your ‘parents’ had told you about.

You stopped staring at them, Izuku looked down not meeting your gaze whilst Bakugo scowled at you, “why don’t you introduce yourself?”

“Oh umm…” You stuttered Hawks had made you practice a fake backstory but, in an instant, it was forgotten, “I’m Y/n Y/L/N, I moved here with my family a…and ugh.”

Monsters who always tell lies.

You didn’t know what else to say, refusing to meet their gazes as you looked out the window, the birds chirping, petals falling in the August heat, it was beautiful, how life spewed out into the world. But also how easily it was to destroy life, how in one touch everything could break and deteriorate, “Y/n.” Aizawa had been repeating your name but you hadn’t gotten out of your daze until the third time.

“Yes.” You whisper.

He points to a seat behind Bakugo and in front of Midoriya, “go sit behind Bakugo.” You nod, walking past them all, they seemed already accustom to their friends. This was going to be a lot harder; it wasn’t like you were infiltrating it to gain anything. You going against the indoctrination and being the opposite of what you had been brought up to be.

You felt someone tap your shoulder as Aizawa went to what looked like sleep, quickly turning around to meet the green haired boy. “I’m Izuku Midoriya.”

You pretended to not know him, smiling as you introduced yourself again, “Yeah I heard.”

“Why did your parents move?” A blonde boy shouted, you saw the black in his hair, it was a look, but you had seen a lot worse hairstyles.

“Oh, work.” It was an easy enough lie which nobody would be able to see through. “We move around a lot.”

He doesn’t say anymore, as some of the girls come around the table, all introducing themselves, you smile thinking this had become easier by the minute. As quickly as introductions had occurred between the whole class, the day had begin to conclude and all that was left was training.

You didn’t have a hero costume so remained in the UA uniform; it was easy enough. With the odd amount of people, Aizawa had made you stay beside him. “I want you to break all of their left legs.”

Was this a trick or a ploy? You were happy to accept knowing this to be an easy enough thing to do, you saw how they had all began to bunch together. It was paced easily, skimming through each and everyone of them, jumping onto the high buildings as you touched all their left legs with ease, even Midoriya whose quirk you had known to be superior had not been paying attention, you easily touched it before hiding it. Your last victim was Bakugo who seemed to be jumping around, you saw how he stood in front of Kirishima in the open area, well you were going to make this a show.

You already heard the screams of some of the class and whilst being distracted you touched the blond’s leg, having assumed it was the wind he ignored the feeling. Ready to attack just as you bounced back to Aizawa.

In an instance you saw the class cascade onto their left knees, the shouting and tears flowing from some of them. It was quick enough, and you almost felt the thrill of killing from doing this small action.

Even Bakugo who had tried to not become grounded was repressing growls at the pain, “What’s ha…” You heard Momo ask on the ground, even the boy you had known as Endeavor’s son had collapsed onto the floor.

“It’s good, and you can heal them as well.” Aizawa ignored the class taking it as an endurance test.

You nodded about to go reverse it, “no let them feel it.” He had stopped you, you spaced in and out watching them on the floor, you stood in silence, it was easy enough to be stealthy even the invisible girl was easy to get after seeing the gloves floating about.

Aizawa after a couple minutes let you touch there legs again, all regaining strength again. They were all a bit out of it but Bakugo seemed the most pissed at you, not understanding your quirk. The class stood in silence looking at you, you didn’t look at them, wanting to leave and just look out at the sky for a bit.

“Y/n, was that your quirk?” The questions cascaded out, but you refused to answer, you didn’t care if they knew but you felt anxious and untrustworthy of these people. They could end up using it against you, hell they might even try and cut your hands off, so you’re left quirk less.

You had heard it happened to Overhaul so what would make you think that these groups of future pro heroes wouldn’t do it you. “No.” Is all you say, it was a lie, and you were going to stick by it forever.

Lying monsters they are much more cunning than other monsters.

Look into the horizon and see hope, “can we go now?” You muttered to Aizawa, he nodded, you didn’t stop to talk to them instantly leaving.

You didn’t want to face the question and answers, you wanted to be alone. You understood after all these years of being isolated, making friends, being around other people had took a toll on you and you wanted to curl up into a ball.

You grabbed your bag changing as quick as you could, instantly walking past the class who had just arrived to change. You saw the message on the phone Hawks had given you a number and floor of where you assumed your room was.

Whilst walking towards where the dorms were you heard the shout of your name. Turning around you were met with Todoroki, “oh hi.”

“Your quirk its…” He trailed off not knowing the words.

He joined you in the walk to the dorms, “you can say villainous, I can kill people with it.”

“I wasn’t going to say that but at least you’re on our side.” He smiles out before talking about the class and how impressed they were with your quirk.

All you could think about were the words he had said though our side, what did it mean? Were there sides to this world, were you going to remain on the side of justice or go against Hawks and run and kill and be killed by him.

You had ignored everything else he had said, “I’m glad I’m on your side as well.” It was a blatant lie, but you were trying, trying to put on a façade. You tried to understand him, understand the emotions that were around you. But you didn’t understand it, didn’t understand how something has harmless as you had done had made them impressed. If they wanted to be impressed, you could kill someone. If they really wanted.

They pose as humans even though they have no understand of the human heart.

Todoroki talked about how meals worked and the works and before you knew it, he had dropped you off directly outside the dorm room. “I’ll come get you for dinner.” You nodded before sucking in a breath. You had your own room, your own sanctuary, you could make it look however you wanted.

You walked inside seeing your bags to the side, a desk and a bed it was normal and empty. Hell if you knew what to do with the room, you had no pictures to put up, no possessions only the new clothes Hawks had brought you. It was barren and you expected it would remain this way.

You laid on the bed, feeling the soft and warm covers, it was a new experience, the rags you had slept in prior being nothing compared to this. It was comfort that you had never experience, the few hours later bringing the half haired boy to your room.

You had put the clothes in the designated area and been waiting on the bed, staring out of the window. It was getting dull and wearing the clothes that fit too right, you opened the door to see Todoroki.

“We’re waiting downstairs.” You nod, pulling at the sleeves of the shirt as you followed the boy. He made conversation which you gave small yeah back too. You were eating for the sake of it, eating to fuel you it wasn’t to satisfy or pleasure you it was to make you stronger. That’s how you had been brought up and that’s how you seemed to remain.

You saw the class crowding a table, a confusion settling on your face. Even the angry Bakugo was perched on the table, Todoroki coughed, and everybody turned their backs. “She’s hear.” Mina squealed, “we got you a cake to celebrate you joining our class.”

Your face fell in confusion, why were they being nice? You had hurt them and now they had gotten you a cake, you had never had a cake, always being told it was bad for you and would ruin your quirk.

“A c…cake.” You stuttered.

“Yeah, a cake, look its got frosting.” Ururaka smiled moving to show you the cake.

It was Midoriya the next to speak, “we think your quirk is really cool and don’t want you to think we think it’s a villain quirk or something.”

Your eyes widened; the cake had blue frosting but the sound of Midoriya repeating what Todoroki spoke out too you. You took a deep breath before faking a smile, everybody seemed to believe it and your next words, “thank you guys so much it means a lot.”

Bakugo knew, Bakugo saw how your eyes were lying, how your face might have been smiling but inside you were dying. Those eyes of yours, the way your upper lip twitched whilst cutting the cake. He saw it all and, in the end, he saw how your fingers skimmed the knife, as if you were thinking about murder. But what did he know about an extra like you.

They eat even though they’ve never experienced hunger.

A couple weeks had passed, and you seemed to have settled in, well that’s what Hawks had assumed after every daily call with you. His words echoing in your head, one murder and you would die yourself. You had grown closer with all of them , specifically Mina and Kirishima, but Bakugo was another story, he was scowl every time you looked at him, everytime you tried to make conversation. You both hadn’t shared a single conversation only being around each other due to your mutual friends.

The day Mina had asked to study in your room had brought Kirishima, Sero, Denki and Bakugo to your room. You hadn’t expected all of them, but you put on a fake smile again, you didn’t need to revise, hell if it wasn’t for your quirk, you’d still be academically smarter then the rest of them.

You didn’t confess to this truth only accepting them inside the barren room, you hadn’t gotten time to print out the pictures you had taken with the class. As much as the villain inside of you hated to admit it you were enjoying your time. You had thought the first night at UA, that in a month you’d have killed them, the villain in you would come out and you’d stop all their hearts, but now, smiling with them maybe things were different.

Or maybe you were lying to yourself, because to Bakugo you still showed the lying nature, your eyes were filled with lies and could dare look at you. It was only for Kirishima who had dragged him alone, he wanted to ask why you lied, why you didn’t tell the truth? A true pro hero would never go to this extent, but he had no proof, it was in his head.

It was all true, you had continued this lie, making up about how your parents and you were distant, but you had a brother who you were close with. The brother who had stolen you had never been close with you, he hated you, resented your quirk and had killed anybody around you to prove he was the better child.

You imagined him locked up right now, locked away in the hell hole, it was callous, but you relished in his pain. Mina had begun asking questions which you ignored thinking, you zoned out looking out of the window. He was probably chained up, sobbing at how he regretted it all. Regretted hurting you, you bet he didn’t even know that you were the one to kill his mother.

It was comforting but you knew you would have to surpress these thoughts to seem normal. “Sorry, I spaced out, say that again?” You quickly spoke.

Bakugo had noticed you space out, noticed how your lips twitched upwards into a cruel face he had seen that face before. Seen it on every villain he had even encountered and the fear that filled him, startled you all as he knocked the books to the floor.

You continued helping Mina ignoring the boy who continued looking at you. He didn’t bother helping Kirishima, only glaring at you, it wasn’t like he cared if you trusted them or not. But you were no hero to him, even if Deku and Todoroki told you, you were a hero, you would always be something villainous. The night fell and they all left, Bakugo having glared the entire night, it was unnerving, and you were fearful he was catching on, but you dismissed it. It was easy to not overthink these types of stuff, you could always threaten the boy.

They study even though they have no interest in academics.

The late night was unnerving you could feel Bakugo’s presence surround the room, you jolted up. Looking around, feeling watched, before you noticed the hoodie Bakugo had been wearing draped over the chair. He might be awake, he could be, you didn’t care, you got up stretching before grabbing the hoodie and creeping out the door.

You were on the same floor as the boy, so in a quick few steps you arrived at his door. You knocked hesitantly, maybe you should’ve waited. You shook your head, knowing that the feeling of his hoodie in your room made you on edge. You knocked again, and on the third a sleep Bakugo opened the door.

They seek friendship even though they do not know how to love.

He rubbed his eyes before noticing who it was, “what the hell do you want?”

You scowled looking at him, “you left your hoodie in my room.”

You pushed it on him about to leave, but instead he grabs your wrist, “we need to talk.”

“We can talk in the morning.” You were fearful not of him but the threat he knew your secret, knew everything about you.

He ignored you dragging you inside and shutting the door, “sit down.” He mutters, you oblige sitting on the edge of his bed, he had been wearing a black shirt and shorts, you didn’t look at him, instead looing around his room. You see a picture of what looks to be his parents, he was the spitting image of his mother. He looked angry in it but even then, it was a family picture filled with love, something you would never have.

“Why do you lie?” He meets your gaze.

“L…lie, I haven’t.” You lie out.

“I see it in your eyes, you have this face and I’ve seen it on villains, who are you?” His voice had become harsher and you felt intimidated. Fuck, you had killed people and a rowdy blond boy was making you scared.

“I told you…”

He interrupts you, “Y/n just tell me the fucking truth for once.”

“Bakugo I don’t know what you’re on about.” You say acting dumb to leave this situation, “I’ve tried to be nice to you but you jus…”

He speaks over you to make you shut up, “you don’t want to be friends, what are you Y/n?”

His voice was eery and he continued to spew out the truth, “you’re a villain aren’t you.”

You take a deep breath the tears about to brim from your eyelids, “I’m the monster, parents tell their kids about.”

Bakugo watched the tears flow out, he didn’t know what to do, he brought his hand to your face wiping the tears with his thumb. “Y/n tell me the truth.”

You look a mess, but you didn’t care, and you confessed it all, you didn’t lie or skim over the truth. You told him from the moment you got taken to the moment you killed the woman who had made you call her mother.

You expected him to push you away, tell everybody instead he sat in silence. Before bringing you into his arms, “I shouldn’t have called you a villain.” It was a soft side to the boy who had been known for being aggressive, after hearing your sufferings he understood, and he wanted to make sure you were always safe and protected.

“I am a monster though.”

He makes you look up at him, holding your face in his hands, “you’re not, the monsters are those people.”

You don’t speak instead leaning your head against his shoulders, you had never been this vulnerable with anyone. He held your head onto his body, moving onto the pillow to let you lie down on him, he brought you comfort, let you cry on him. You weren’t a villain; you weren’t a villain and if Bakugo believed it then you weren’t a villain to the boy who had been surrounded by them just as much as you had.

After that night Bakugo and you had grown into a strong friendship, it was shocking to the class who had never seen you even talk. The way he would come and make you coffee in the morning, walk with you to each class. Sit beside you in at lunch, even go as far as it train with you just so you felt included.

But seeing how you both talked and smiled at each other, for the first time you had a genuine smile on your face, a genuine laugh that wasn’t filled with lies from your past. They watched how the two of you grew over the course of the next month, how the two of you grew closer and closer. It was unfathomable but you had made a true friend, a friendship that wasn’t based on lies, maybe one day you’d tell them all.

But at the time being you were content with having the angry boy be remotely nicer to you than anybody. It was Mina who had noticed how Bakugo would open the door for you or hold your bag occasionally. The unusual behaviour making everybody think he was sick, but all you saw from him was kindness that had evolved for you.

What they hadn’t realised was how at ease you both had gotten into a routine of sneaking into each other’s rooms. How you’d hold onto each other, talk and vent about the past in each other’s arms. Friends don’t do that; friends don’t hold and comfort each other like you both did.

On one of the many nights you both spent together, his arm around your waist, you looked at him. Looked at his fiery red eyes and fallen blond hair, he had become something more to you. Somebody who you could trust with your life.

“Stop looking at me, its creepy.” He scolds, you laugh at the boy bringing your hand to his hair.

You feel him stare down at your tiny figure, “I thought you were a real bitch the first time we met.”

“You don’t think that anymore.” You pout out nearing closer to his plump lips.

“I still think you’re a fucking bitch.” He laughs, cocking his head back before bringing it back to your face, the gap having narrowed and all you could see was his fiery eyes stare back at you. “You’re my bitch...though.”

You nod not making a remark as the gap closes between you. Your lips moving together in an instant, it was long awaited and seethed with love and hope. But most of all it proved the woman who you called mother wrong, you weren’t heartless, and you have the love she spoke about from Bakugo.

Monsters who always tell lies.

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