#verses that make you slow down and realize you can’t give more of yourself to something than you even have | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bloodiedrogue · 1 year ago

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FEED ME

SUMMARY: You ride Astarion's thigh and he lets you drink his blood. That's it. That's the fic. It's horny as all hell.

PAIRING: Ascendant Astarion & Spawn Female Reader

WORD COUNT: 1,519

WARNINGS: 18+ sexual content, thigh riding, praise/degradation, orgasm denial (if you squint), penetrative sex (reader receiving), blood sucking, spit kink, allusions of religion.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Honestly this is just so gross I apologize I literally have no excuse other than I'm going to hell probably. :')

MASTERLIST

Patience has never been your virtue.

In fact, it’s something you’ve sorely lacked your entire life, believing you deserve to be treated in a timely manner regardless of circumstance. Because of this, it often feels like an uphill battle when you’re forced onto Astarion’s thigh, dripping with sweat, begging for release as you grind against the fabric of his trousers.

“Patience, pet,” he always says, holding your face —tightening the grip he has with rough fingers that make you whimper at the thought of your own prolonging.

Every time, you have to fight the urge to clench your jaw and grind your teeth. To showcase displeasure in the face of God as he graces you so slowly and intimately. Allowing you to pant against his chest and lock your arms around his neck as he trails soft patterns into your flesh.

Deep down, you know it’s a gift. To be able to touch him in any sort of way is an act bestowed. An act meant to be cherished, so you wait. Telling yourself it’ll be worth it in the end as you listen to the whispers that flutter against your ear.

“That’s it, keep going.”

His voice is like a hymn. Every verse of instruction, spoken like a blessing, forces you to hold your breath and shift your weight further against his leg. Feeling the pressure build so slowly you can’t help but whimper in frustration, you hear him laugh. The reverb of his torment rattling against your aching hands that gently thumb his throat, seeking more.

Barely above a whisper, you beg. Pleading through the desperate buck of your hips, you ask for indulgence. For absolution. For him to pity your starving cunt as it continues to brush against him, unable to pass that final threshold.

All he does is laugh again. The wicked tone piercing your flesh like a knife as his fingers dig into your hips, forcing you further down. “You’ll get what you’re owed,” he tells you then, grinning —bearing his teeth tauntingly. “Once you take it.”

At that point, it feels like he’s punishing you. Forcing you to take penance —to perform your devotion in a way that he enjoys.

You’re not sure you’ll ever understand it. Why he does the things he does. Why, without fail, he prolongs your needs to feed and fuck —to feel him fully firm inside the walls of your sex.

Even now, as you try to distract yourself from the agonizingly slow speed at which you ride his thigh, feeling him give you that little extra push as you grind further down, all you want to do is lean forward and sink your teeth into his flesh. To suck the wound and lap away the crimson blood that’ll pool within your mouth.

It makes you hungry just thinking about it. Starved. Filled to the brim with every desire he so effortlessly dangles in front of your face. As if you’re a malnourished dog and he’s offering himself like raw meat.

You lick your lips and think of what he might taste like. How his blood compares to that of the people he feeds you. Would it be warm and sweet like honey? Would it thicken against your tongue, allowing you to savour its flavour before it slips down your throat? Or would it feel more like a cool glass of water? Refreshing and light —easy to gulp down?

“Mm, I see someone’s getting a bit hungry.”

A part of you wants to narrow your eyes to showcase your displeasure, but you don’t dare. Instead, all you do is close your mouth, realizing how slack it is as a pooling of spit collects at the corners.

It makes you embarrassed. Feeling the drool that slips down the edge —watching as he reaches to wipe it away with a huff, calling you pathetic. Telling you that only good girls get their fill.

“I won’t give you what you don’t deserve,” he says, leaning in, staring into your eyes as they instantly twitch away, averting their gaze as your mind begins to shift. Focusing on the feeling of your core, aching with heat as you tremble through distracted movements still thinking of his taste.

Feeling you falter, he forces you to look at him again. Gripping the bottom half of your face, his nails dig into the plush of your cheeks, commanding you to keep his gaze.

“Look at me,” he says.

There’s a force behind his words that quickly reminds you of the position you're in. That despite being physically above him, in all other cases you’re actually far below. Lower than the dirt he walks on, meaning you shouldn’t take this moment for granted.

Realizing this, you nod your head against the placement of his hand, feeling it loosen ever so slightly as you take a deep breath, preparing to move. Jutting your hips forward, you then start with languid motions.

Getting the feel for what you like, you test out different weights, dropping your hands towards the top of his thighs to further support yourself. As you do, you feel Astarion’s hands begin to slide out of their original places. The one on your hip moves to cup your ass while the other, still remaining firmly on your face, begins to stroke your cheek. As if to further coax you through the snapping of your pelvis as it starts to rock in place.

Both gestures work to encourage you. Somehow, despite their subtleties, you feel the support they offer each time you grind against him, feeling that imaginary band begin to pull further apart. As he palms your backside, giving it a little rough tap here and there, the only thought behind your eyes is that of his prior instruction.

That you need to take to receive.

Pushing your hands further into his legs, you let out a heavy breath that quickly tails out into a moan, making him smile and stroke the base of your cheek so lovingly you almost whimper in response. “That’s it, darling, keep it up.”

You nod, unable to form coherent thoughts as your folds brush against the fabric; the texture serving as that extra push you need to keep yourself going. To motivate the motions as you push and pull, feeling it continuously build until your mouth is split open again he’s ripping you off of him.

It leaves you disoriented, being quickly tossed to his other thigh ass first, watching as he palms the fabric that rests over his cock before allowing it to spill out.

Once it’s on full display, you look back up at him with such desperate eyes that you’re almost surprised when he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you back, praising you all over again. Telling you what a job you’re doing as he maneuvers your legs around his waist and begins to slide in.

It’s slow but smooth, the way he slots himself into you. Immediately, feeding you a piece of that hunger you crave, you’re rewarded with a quiet hum of approval as you rock your hips against him, feeling the way he juts inside in response.

It leaves you breathless upon impact. The weight of your torso leisurely bouncing on his cock, forcing you to wrap your arms around him again. Almost instantly, they take hold of his throat with the crook of your arms, allowing him better leverage to push you up only to pull you back down as he grunts through each movement —groaning as you provide him with enough impact going down to hit that spot that has you twitching around him.

By then you’re both moving in perfect tandem. As he offers you your earned pleasure, you begin to moan his name in prayer, repeating it as a thank you for his benevolence.

In response, he smiles through a heavy breath and maneuvers his wrist to his lips, never breaking eye contact as he drives his teeth into the base of the flesh, forcing the blood to enter his mouth before he reaches for your chin.

Once he’s had his fill he presses a thumb to your lips, applying the smallest amount of pressure as he continues fucking into you, watching with bated breath as you open up wide for him, granting him the access he needs to feed. To take your cheeks in his hand and angle your head back so that he can slowly release the blood into your mouth.

As soon as it hits your tongue you can feel yourself become sated. While he drives himself further, snapping his hips in timed sessions, you can barely focus on the sweetness of his taste. How it tickles your tongue going down but still manages to ease all the previous aches of hunger.

Looking up at him, you smile with blood stained teeth, deliriously laughing through the final pumps before both of you are coming together, twitching against each other’s flesh as presses both hands against your spine, willing you to have your fill as he offers you his neck, continuing to fuck you through your orgasm.

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TAGLIST NOW CLOSED!

#feed me #astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion fan fic #astarion smut #astarion x female reader #astarion x reader #astarion x you #ascended astarion x spawn reader #summer writes

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shadowsndaisies · 2 months ago

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dogfighting 101: 02 - let's rock and roll

wc: 1k

synopsis: It's been a long time since I rock and rolled, It's been a long time since I did the stroll, Ooh let me get it back, let me get it back, Let me get it back, baby, where I come from

main masterlist

athena-verse master post

“Anyone got eyes on Maverick?” you ask, eyes scanning both your radar and the terrain too.

“No visual,” Harvard confirms.

“He’s here somewhere,” you note and then you realize.

Never only think what’s expected, kid. 360 degrees, all the time It’s something your dad told you were little, he and Ice, they wanted to teach you lessons to help you, things they learned too late. Little tests, quizzes, making sure you were well prepared for whatever life threw at you. Part of you was positive that Ice always knew where you’d end up.

Keeping that lesson in mind, you decide to change your perspective.

“Athena!” Yale’s shout echoes when you invert, a slow roll, completely safe, but not anticipated by your teammates.

Of course, your hunch pays off when you spot your dad from where he'd been shadowing you from below the hard deck, below your radars reach.

“How’s it hanging, old man?” you ask, smiling under your mask, looking through the canopy at him.

“You’re catching on to my tricks too quick, kid,” he throws back and you can practically hear the smirk.

There's a “Oh shit,” over the line from Harvard, but you shake your head as your dad comes up ahead of you both and you flip back once again.

“I know you too well, Sir,” you offer in response.

“Let’s to put that to the test,” he says, “time to turn and burn aviators, fights on!”

He shoots up and you spare another look at the foxtrot team on your right.

“Break right, Yale,” you shout over the line as you peel off left trying to find your Dad again.

“Breaking right,” he confirms.

You both loop around and eventually you find him, he’s already on your ass and you’re trying to shake him off.

“Tally Tally, he’s on your four-side Athena,” Harvard shouts.

“I see him!” you confirm increasing your throttle and turning up in an attempt to loop back around.

Your dad though, is hard to lose.

“I can’t shake him,” you huff, eyes squinting down as you pull evasive maneuvers.

“Athena, how long would you need to get tone?” Yale’s question comes suddenly, and you spot him looping back around, you see the move he’s planning to make, the way he’s positioning himself.

“Not long,” you assure him.

“Get ready to Rock and Roll,” Yale decides.

“I hate the Rock and Roll,” Harvard mutters, and you can’t help the small chuckle that slips out.

“Would you prefer the Do-Si-Do?” you ask, amusement shining through as you turn to set your self up.

“Fuck, no, and you fucking know it,” Harvard denies vehemently, you can hear Yale laugh as you finally get yourself right where you want to be.

“I’m ready to Rock,” you confirm and suddenly you stop the evasive maneuvers.

“Then let’s Roll!” Yale shouts, shooting up.

You, on the other hand, straighten out, and right before Maverick can get tone, Yale dives down in a controlled but fast barrel roll in the gap between you both, it’s not the tightest gap, easily manageable, but enough to give Mav pause, and while Harvard and Yale slowed to avoid the hard deck, you accelerate straight up and then tip back in a vertical roll, it pulls more G’s than you’d expected during your first training run of the detachment, but you manage to level out and get tone on your dad.

Unfortunately your tone comes right after your dad caught Harvard and Yale.

“Shit,” you huff, dejected as Yale pulls up parallel to you.

“Shit,” Mav agrees, flanking your other side, though he sounds more impressed than anything else.

“Harvard, Yale, go see Hondo about your push-ups,” Mav calls, and the foxtrot team starts their descent. “Athena,” he calls, and your gaze jumps out the canopy and at your dad. He hits the glass, pulling his mask off and offering you a rare smile, real and proud, like he did at your high school graduation. “Not bad, Kid,” he says and you smile despite yourself, beginning your own descent.

Harvard, Yale, Hangman, Phoenix, and Bob are all stood on the tarmac when you land.

“I have a need,” Yale yells holding up his hands as you get out of your plane.

You roll your eyes but play along, “A need for speed!” you shout, high-fiving him and then Harvard who was stood behind his pilot.

“Not bad, ‘Thena,” Hangman drawls, a twinkle in his eyes.

“Don’t be too sad when you don’t get tone, Hangman, we always knew I was the better pilot,” you smirk, winking at him as you walk past.

You shake your head walking with Brigham and Yale, and when they stop by Hondo, you do too.

“You got tone, Athena, no push-ups for you,” Hondo says, frowning when you ditch your vest and gear, rolling your flight suit down and dropping to the ground in line with Harvard and Yale who had already done the same.

“I did,” you confirm, taking a plank beside the two men.

“Athena,” it’s Yale’s voice this time, looking at you with what can only be described as fondness, but also exasperation.

“We’re a team, you got shot down, we all do push-ups,” you say seriously. Then you turn to look up at Hondo, “on your count, Hondo,” you prompt.

“Hold that!” the evident smirk in the voice had your held tilting up and there was your dad. “A deal’s a deal, kid. You got tone, I owe 200 pushups,” your dad smirked down at you, as he dropped to the ground on the other side of you.

“You sure you can manage that? You’re getting up there in years,” you tease.

“Ice would have your head if he heard you age-shaming me,” he shoots back.

“Ice would laugh and join me,” you challenge.

Your dad simply smiles in defeat, turning to Hondo, “like the kid said, on your count, Hondo.”

“If you insist,” he nods, and then, “Down! One! Two! Three!” and the count went on, the four of you doing your push-ups.

...

everything: @butterfly-skinnylegend

athena’s tags: @omgbrianab @smoothdogsgirl @bazellawriz @sbrewer21 @inky-sun @djs8891 @rory-cakes @geeksareunique @je6291

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fearlessword · 6 months ago

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I’ll meet you in my dreams - Chapter 2

Summary: You dreamed of the boy who played piano before you knew who he was. Humming the melodies you heard in your sleep brought BTS into your life and you thought it was just meant to be.When you finally have the chance to see him perform live, you realize that the dreams you have are more than a coincidence. You hope he dreams of you too.

Slow burn/ Slow build/ canon divergence/ d-day tour / soulmate- ish

Pairing: Idol! Min Yoongi x Reader

Ongoing

Masterlist

Author’s note: Hi tumblr! I’ve been wanting to post this fic here for such a long time! Seriously! I can’t believe I actually did it! I’m so excited for you to read this chapter! I post on AO3 first, but it’s nice to share my work on this platform too! Please send me your thoughts on this chapter, I’d love to hear it. I’ll come back in a few days with chapter 3, but if you want to read it before that, you can find it here. I hope you like it! Thank you for being here!

Chapter 2

February 2023

“…So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, so long lives this, and this gives life to thee…” you read.

“This is one of my favorites, and one of the most famous Shakespearean sonnets. You guys already know how much I love words but in this sonnet…” you pause with a sigh. “I feel so happy reading it, it took Shakespeare only 14 verses to explain how powerful and everlasting words are. Can you imagine how extraordinary it would feel to be the muse of a piece of work like this? I don’t want to go crazy over this, but how beautiful is that? And to see that he was indeed right, the poem does give life to his beloved muse, it makes me want to cry. How beautiful is that? Just think about it?!”

“Ms. _______, you are fangirling over poetry again” one of the students says.

“Well, it is my profession after all! I am also a fan of so many things, it’s the way I function!” You laugh. “But you guys need to agree, it’s beautiful. You should think about writing a sonnet like this to your Valentines next year… Does anyone want to comment on their first impressions of this piece before we go deep into our analysis?”

The students were ready to give their opinions when the bell rang, announcing your lesson was over and stopping the discussion from happening. The backpacks and chairs in the classroom combined in a messy, hustled melody created by your high schoolers. It was the end of the school day, after all.

“ Well, it’s nice to end the day with a hook. Please read Sonnet 18 one more time and write a short comment about it in your reading journals. We’ll discuss it in the next class. Enjoy your Valentine’s day, everybody!”

One by one, the students left the room, leaving you alone with the mess of the classroom. As usual, you organized the desks and chairs for the next day, erased the white board, turned the electronics off and put away all of the supplies in the cabinet. You only left out your pencil case and the piles of assignments to grade. It was Tuesday, but the faster you start grading, the easier your Friday will be. Even though being a teacher means that you eventually (or always) take work home, you made yourself a rule that you’d avoid working during your weekends. Also, no teacher wants to grade anything on a Friday afternoon. It’s not like you have anything to do on Valentine’s day, either way.

You directed your attention to the desk and a huff left your body as you thought about the few hours of unpaid work you had ahead of you. You didn’t know if the gray Tuesday made your situation worse or better. You tried to see it with a positive attitude: at least you wouldn't spend the next few hours inside, admiring a perfect sunny day through the windows of your classroom.

Before sitting down to start grading, you got your phone and your airpods in your bag, you didn’t bother to turn the airplane mode off, and, to be honest, that was probably the best option if you wanted to really focus on your work. A playlist of your favorite songs is the one selected for the occasion. You put your phone away, grab your green pen and start.

When The Truth Untold started, you were halfway through grading. You couldn’t help thinking of how unlucky you were. BTS came into your life only during the pandemic, which meant no concerts, but lots of content and late night meme videos and Korean lessons that distracted and helped you when you needed the most. When the concerts finally happened in the US, you were out of the country to complete part of your Masters in Literature in England. It was more than a dream come true, from visits to the Globe to visits to the lakes and all of the places your favorite authors and characters saw long before. It felt bittersweet. The timing was just wrong, and now, it felt like the chances of seeing all seven of them just escaped through your fingers. All you could do was wait. Wait until the seven of them come back, and trust them. It was hard, but was there another option?

Just fans understand how hard it is.

Alright, you need to focus on the grading.

The playlist kept going as you corrected and graded and wrote comments in each of the papers, carefully analyzing the work of your students. Every once in a while, you’d laugh at how they expressed their opinions on their essays. How fun their snarky comments were! The piles of paper were organized into folders. Thankfully, in less than three hours, the work was finally done, (until the next time, which will probably happen sooner than what you want.) It’s half of the week, and finally time to go home.

Winter was unusually warm this year. Still, the short walk from the school to the subway station felt longer because of the cold air. It wasn’t too cold, but it wasn’t comfortable either. The hot mass of air that embraces you as you enter the station is welcomed, at least during the colder seasons. The station was packed, it’s always a struggle when it’s peak time, but on days like this, when the busy people of the city go out to dinner to celebrate the existence of their love life, it is just the worst. When the train came, you found a spot where you could stay, close enough to the door so you could leave it three stations later.

You hope there is a seat for you in the Q train that will take you to Brooklyn. Deep down, you know it’s hopeless. At 6 pm Times Square station is filled with both New Yorkers and tourists. You could differentiate them easily, from their clothes to the kind of demeanor they have. The empty eyes were usually the giveaway whether someone was a New Yorker or not. You hoped you had the same curious eyes you had when you first moved to NYC for college, but you understand that, as much as you love the city and all it means to you and your journey, routine takes some of the magic away. Right now, you bet your face gives away your exhaustion too, if there’s someone watching you, you’re sure they know you live here.

People watching was your favorite pastime during your commuting time: imagining what each one of those people was like, their dreams and hopes, if they had any. Today, you could see a considerable amount of bouquets in the train, and it makes your imagination go wild imagining what expects these people once they get to their destination. You try not to get caught while you look at them for the next 30 minutes, then, you leave the train and walk home.

You were fumbling in your bag in a failed attempt to find your keys when the door of your apartment slammed opened.

“Where the hell were you?” Your roommate demanded.

“At the school, Cami.” You answered as you took your shoes off and went inside.

“ Why weren’t you answering your phone? I called so many times.”

“I was grading papers”

“On Valentine’s Day?”

“It’s not like I have a date”

“______ you seriously need to do a better job at answering your phone” she huffed. “I was freaking out here”

“Is everything okay? Are you okay? Is my family okay? It was in airplane mode and I just didn’t care to check it after I left the classroom.”

“Everybody is okay. Well, emotionally I’m definitely not okay. I’ve been freaking out here since I got home from work. Seriously, we need to communicate better so we can actually leave school together, we can grade here! Why do you have to stay there so late anyways? I needed to talk to you and You. Weren’t. Answering.” She paused. “Why am I freaking out? It’s not like it’s something I care about. Oh my God! Maybe I care about it because you care about it." Camila pointed at you. "What is happening to me?! Am I literally freaking out on Valentine’s day because of a tour of a guy that I’m not even interested in? I promise I won’t be alone for Valentine's day next year, I need a date to look forward to instead of getting crazy over a K-pop man. This is the worst day of my life!” Camila rambled while pacing in the living room

“Did you say tour?”

“Seriously? That’s all you heard?!”

“You were saying so many things”

“Alright, sit, and please, I am begging you to turn the airplane mode off”

You do as she says, and as soon as your phone connects to the wifi, hundreds of notifications pop on your screen, including notifications from the Weverse app. Your heart jumps. One of the members of BTS on tour? You opened the app.

SUGA | Agust D TOUR

“What?” Your voice was so low you could barely hear it.

“Why are you so calm? Isn’t he the whole reason why you are a BTS fan?” Camila pauses to massage her temples. "Why am I freaking out? Isn’t he the guy you dream about all the time? ”

Yes, he is. You thought. The one and only Min Yoongi. The reason why you became an ARMY in the first place.

Turns out, the mysterious guy from your dreams back in 2020 was real. You've dreamt of him so many times before finding out he was actually a living person and not a figment of your imagination.

After the first time dreaming about him, you were washed with a sense of comfort you couldn’t quite understand. The crying over your ex had gotten better with each dream, simply because the feeling of seeing him in your sleep made you feel happy the whole day and forget anything else.

You could see him… Writing, laughing with the most precious smile, reading, recording at the studio, and at last… playing the piano. A real piano. The first time you heard him, though, he looked younger, but you could still see the same focus and the same passion as he played each note so beautifully. That morning of quarantine, almost a month after the first dream, you woke up with the urge to cry from how mighty the scene was. The warmth of the presence of the boy in the piano was already a familiar feeling, but actually listening to his music? Ah, you wanted to stay in that scenario forever. You hummed the song throughout the day, you asked Camila if she knew that melody, just so you could listen to it again. You thought about that the whole time, until you remembered how technology existed and you could just hum the melodies to your cell phone.

It was a BTS song.

And so you listened to that sweet piano melody, and heard him rapping for the first time. And searched for the names of the guys in the band. And finally, you saw the face of that mysterious man on your phone screen. It was weird that you dreamed of an actual person that turned out to produce music before knowing the person actually existed, right? Why you were dreaming about a korean idol and why it made you feel so content was a mystery to you. You tried not to dwell on that, realizing this was the way the universe sent BTS to you, when you needed it the most. And slowly, moving on from your trauma was easier. Letting your ex-boyfriend go was getting simpler each day. You finished that letter (Was it a letter or a novel? With the amount of pages you wrote, you didn’t even know anymore) and just let it go. Yoongi helped you, the boys helped you, and they didn’t even know.

Sometimes when you watch stuff, you get washed with the sense of deja vu. But it is what it is. Yoongi keeps popping in your dreams from time to time, you started to write about him and you irresistibly became an ARMY. How could you not?

“Earth to ______'' Camila snapped her fingers in front of your face “ I thought you��d scream! For God’s sake, I did! Why aren’t you freaking out when I am? You are the fan!”

“Sorry, Cami, I just don’t know how to react. You know how much they all mean to me. But with him… I just can’t believe I’ll finally have the chance to see him” your eyes burned filled with tears.

“Oh, amiga… We will try all we can to get you the best tickets. You will see him play the piano in front of you. I know how much this means to you, how much you changed after you became a fan. I will make sure it happens. I promise.”

You looked at your friend, sitting by your side on the pink couch you insisted on buying for your living room.

“You can’t control that, Cami”

“I can’t, but I will sign up for the pre-sale with as many email accounts as I can. I will even buy the membership thing.”

“ You sound like a fan”

“Well, if he helps you so much, maybe I should be a fan, do you think one of them could visit me in my sleep too? I bet it would be fun” She jokes.

“I wish I could talk to him, even in my dreams”

“When you go to the concert, he will look at you and you guys will fall in love”

“Cami, this is not fanfiction”

“Are you really quoting me right now? Well, I will create my own fanfiction if I want to. Nothing’s impossible. It would be great, then next year you won’t be alone for Valentine’s day. Maybe we can go on a double date, cause next year I’ll definitely have someone.”

“I’m not alone, you are literally in front of me”

“You know the kind of alone I’m talking about. Now, let’s make our Galentine’s dinner. I saw this recipe of spinach gnocchi that seems very easy. I want to try it tonight. Then, we’ll have a date with Mr. Darcy.”

“Camila, have I told you that I love you?”

“Te quiero, amiga, but you better answer your phone next time”

🪷🪷🪷

After squealing during the entirety of “Pride and Prejudice”, you called it a night and went to your room. It was late, but you couldn’t stop yourself from checking all of the details of the announcement and texting your ARMY friends back.

It felt surreal. That your bias will go on a tour. That you’ll finally have the chance of seeing one of them. Excitement was an understatement. You could feel your heart beating against your ribcage. You needed to sleep now, but your whole body was already buzzing with anticipation of going to the concert, of seeing Yoongi in front of you in real life.

Instead, you open the Weverse live and watch it. You pay attention as he talks about Slam Dunk and shares about Fashion Week. You worry when he said he hasn’t eaten, you smile with him once you see his reaction to the tour announcement coming out. You are washed with a wave of love for the artist on the screen.

“It’s not good to be delusional, _______” you say out loud. But you are not sleepy enough right now, and it was indeed Valentine’s day, so your imagination starts making up alternate realities of what could’ve been. You get your dear journal and write a poem, a confession.

“Let’s see each other in person, Yoongi” That’s what you hope and pray for.

🪷🪷🪷

Yoongi POV

Yoongi woke up on that Wednesday with that fuzzy feeling on his chest again. He knew this was getting too weird for his own good, there was no way dreaming about a random person he had never seen in his life was a normal thing.

Three years ago, he thought seeing a woman crying while writing was just a way his brain found to deal with his own creative process and the frustrations coming with it. But the story was getting too complex, the scenes were getting too detailed. There’s no way he knew sonnet 18 by Shakespeare by heart to create that kind of scene. He didn’t even know it by heart in Korean!

He couldn’t complain. He was nervous about his solo tour and his album and seeing her in his dreams gave him a warm sensation of calmness. He hasn’t heard her voice many times, so listening to the teacher in his dreams reading that poem with such devotion made him happy. He closed his eyes, still in bed, trying to replay it in his mind. The big smile and kind eyes shining so bright while talking about the sonnet with so much passion… His heart shrinks a little, the good kind of pain, he wishes he could see her for real, if she’s real. She must be. She has to.

He knew that feeling wouldn’t leave him, even if he tried, the warmth, the pull and the want to see her one more time. This would follow him for the rest of the day and he was getting used to it after such a long time.

He didn’t know what to do. Yoongi knew people would say he’s crazy if he dared to talk about this out loud. So, he resorted to his old friends, the yellow notepad and the pencil. And just like the other times she followed him in his mind, he wrote her another song.

To be continued.

Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

#bts yoongi #fanfic #reader insert #soulmates #yoongi #strangers to lovers #writing #idol min yoongi #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x y/n #min yoongi x reader #slow burn #slow build

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scribeforchrist-blog · 1 year ago

Text

Pull Over, Your On Empty

MEMORY VERSE OF THE WEEK

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+Proverbs 19:20 Listen to advice and accept instruction that you may gain wisdom in the future.

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VERSE OF THE DAY

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+ Deuteronomy 8:3 KJV And he humbled thee, and suffered thee to hunger, and fed thee with manna, which thou knewest not, neither did thy fathers know; that he might make thee know that man doth not live by bread only, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of the Lord doth man live

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** SAY THIS BEFORE YOU READ; HERE’S SOME CHRISTIAN AFFIRMATION **

I AM GETTING REFILLED BY GOD

I AM LISTENING

I AM OBEDIENT

I AM BRAVE

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THOUGHTS:

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We all go through different things in In-N-Out life, and for some reason, our mind goes to thinking that God has to be picking on us, and he isn’t; he does things to humble or teach us, but it’s up to us to understand what’s happening. To understand and grow from our situation, but we have to be the ones to grow from what he is putting us through; a lot of the time we look at the bad and we don’t stop once to say, what is God trying to show me !

The Israelites were so focused on what they didn’t have and not realizing that God wanted to teach them that food and water and things weren’t what they needed; they needed more of him. In verse two, Moses told them, “Remember how the Lord your God led you through the wilderness for these forty years, humbling you and testing you to prove your character, and to find out whether or not you would obey his commands.”

They forgot what God had done for them, they forgot everything he had brought them through, and it didn’t matter to them at all; all they wanted to do was worship idols, anything but God all the way to this point he’s was asking them not to serve other gods not to obey anyone but them, just like us today we don’t know when enough is enough.

The Israelites kept pressing their luck in Deuteronomy 4:3 You saw for yourself what the Lord did to you at Baal-peor. There the Lord your God destroyed everyone who had worshiped Baal, the god of Peor. 4 But all of you who were faithful to the Lord your God are still alive today—every one of you.”

They didn’t want what God had to give them; they did everything they could to worship other gods; they were told repeatedly not to worship, not to bow down, but they did what FELT GOOD TO THEM! God destroyed every one of them that disobeyed him; he destroyed everyone that picked Baal over him why because they wouldn’t listen to directions, they wouldn’t heed to his call to turn around . That’s just like us today God is calling us to stop, God is calling us to let go of the things of this world but some of us have turned a deaf ear!

Now God is here trying to humble them, to show them and teach them, but if they refuse to humble themselves and refuse to learn, what is the point? What is the point of our lives if we won’t do what God is calling us to do? All this was done to show them how to depend on God, but they still wouldn’t; some of us are going through because we won’t submit, we refuse to listen, we refuse to change because we don’t see because of the veil.

“Matthew 4:4 But he answered, “It is written, “‘Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God”

The Bible says here we can’t live with what we have; we can’t live by just food; we can’t live by just THINGS; we will become dead because our source supposes to be God, but some of us are running on empty, and we refuse to stop at the fueling station of God to get full because we think we have enough in us to keep going but friends I am here to tell you we don’t! I am here to tell you if you don’t stop eventually and get filled by God and the things of the light, you will slow down, and you won’t be able to grow or move forward because E means empty; you’ll become so empty that nothing in this life will help you !!

***Today, God knows we will get it wrong, and he knows we will need help, but he can’t help us if we don’t slow down; some of us are going 90 miles an hour, but we won’t stop; we see its time and we won’t listen to the Holy Spirit , he’s asking us today how much more do he have to show us to make us humble ourselves , how much more do he have to take away to get us to pull over, pull over now and ask God to show you what he wants you to do and he will show you!

========================

PRAYER

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Heavenly Father , help us to slow down and connect with you , father show us how to be responsible, help us to be filled with you and not things of this world . Lord we don’t want to continue to walk in disobedient. Lord help us to stay focus on you and not thinking we know everything . Lord give us ears to hear your word and voice . Lord help us to be what you’re calling us to be. Lord our life is out of line show us , if we not reading our word enough help us change that , if we not meditating enough please help us , father if we aren’t giving more time to you forgive us ! Lord we need you and we thank you in Jesus Mighty Name Amen

========================

REFERENCES

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+Hebrews 13:5-6 Keep your life free from love of money, and be content with what you have, for he has said, “I will never leave you nor forsake you.” So we can confidently say, “The Lord is my helper; I will not fear; what can man do to me

+Luke 12:29-30 And do not seek what you are to eat and what you are to drink, nor be worried. For all the nations of the world seek after these things, and your Father knows that you need them.

+ Romans 15:13, May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.

========================

FURTHER READINGS

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Isaiah 60:1-62:5

Philippians 1:27-2:18

Psalm 72:1-20

Proverbs 24:11-12

#bible #bible quotes #christian quote #daily devotion #daily devotional #inspiration #scripture #bible verse #christian life #christan life #i feel empty #jesussaves #faith in god

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yourmidnightlover · 4 years ago

Text

the nickname

Summary: reader convinced spencer to let her take the reins in the bedroom... or does she?

TW: oral (male recieving), fingering, mention of overstimulation, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, riding, scratching, use of nicknames (princess, love, etc.), hints at sugar daddy!spencer, age gap (not specified but i’m thinking around 10-15 years). *let me know if i missed anything*

WC: 2,912

A/N: this hinted at sugar daddy!spencer (not really hinted so much as saying it outright). I also wrote this for @anxiousblanketqueen ‘s fic contest for her birthday! i believe it’s prompt number 21. i hope you enjoy :)

————————————————————————

you had been together for a while, now. maybe 13 months? you bet spencer could recall - more like knew he could.

you had met when you were one of his students. you're going to georgetown on an academic scholarship because no way in hell could you pay for the full tuition when you still couldn't afford it with the scholarships.

he took a liking to you - how could he not? you were a hard worker and proved yourself to be extremely determined. on top of the obvious intelligence, you had a beauty that radiated around you. and that beauty had a touch of... innocence. and maybe that innocent beauty is what initially attracted him to you, but he'd like to think it was just your personality as a whole.

you were never one of the students who would come to his office after hours for help you clearly didn't need. you would use your colored pens and highlighters to help organize your notes, so it took a while to pack everything up to leave.

one day, when there weren't any students lined up out his door, he went to your seat as you were cleaning up. you looked up, rather surprised that your inappropriate crush was standing right by you.

"uhm... hi," you smiled at him as you put your pencil pouch in your bag, breaking eye contact for the briefest of seconds before returning your attention back to him.

"hi. i was uhm..." he cleared his throat, "i was wondering if you had any questions? you never come to the office hours for questions and i was just... just making sure," he stuttered out.

"oh," you chuckled a light, airy laugh that spencer wished he had recorded so he could replay it over and over and over. "i don't have any questions. i guess that just means that you're a really good professor - very thorough," you stood up and flung the bag over your shoulder, still incredibly shorter than him.

"than-thank you," he smiled. "i'm happy to hear that you're actually getting something out of the lessons," you began walking out of the classroom, looking back to ensure that he was following you.

"yes, i truly do," you agreed. "i'm also pretty sure i'm one of the other people who isn't auditing the class," you added.

"correct, you are," he enthusiastically gestured, another laugh leaving your beautiful lips.

"i mean, you can't necessarily blame them for just taking the class," you chuckled as he held the door open for you, you gave him a subtle 'thank you.'

"what do you mean?" he asked in a soft tone.

"i mean you- you're..." you trailed off, gesturing to his entire body in hopes to convey what you meant. he just looked at you with a confused taste, letting you know you needed to elaborate. "you're very... attractive, professor reid."

"oh-that's very... thank you," he blushed as you halted by the bus stop.

"of course," you turned around, looking up to meet his eyes. "so... wait, what time is it?" you asked rather frantically.

"it's," he looked at his silver watch adorning his wrist, "6:27."

"shit," you swore for the first time in front of him, underneath your breath.

"wha-what is it?" he asked, perplexed as to why you would be so frustrated.

"the last bus leaves at 6:15 and i've missed it," you huffed out, trying to compose yourself before checking your bag and realizing, "i forgot my key and my roommate is at her girlfriend's house."

"is there anything i could do?" he asked concerned.

"no i can... i can just stay at the library. i should probably study up anyway," you tried to laugh it off although you knew it was pointless... he was a profiler for christ's sake.

"the library? y/n, this might seem a bit inappropriate but i have a spare room you could stay in until your roommate gets back," he offered kindly.

so, you took him up on his offer.

you slept in his spare room after he got you both takeout. you laughed and talked for what seemed like meer minutes but turned out to be until 1 a.m. you talked about string theory and the leonard euler's paradox. he gave you interesting facts about tortoises and achilles.

that little hangout session turned into countless hangouts over the span of three months. and then he asked you out on a real date once you finished at the top of his class - and not just because you were his favorite.

the first time with spencer was... beyond delightful. he was captivating with the way he worked against and for your body. it was almost as if he felt like his sole purpose on earth was to please you. he was eager, yet patient with the way his tongue flicked and sucked at your skin.

he was such a dominant personality in the bedroom, which was extremely appreciated since you didn't have much experience in that arena. but now that you were more versed in that world, you wanted to experiment a bit more.

casually, he began to pay for your things. it wasn't so head-on at first. it would be paying for your groceries, or buying all of your college books for you. but then it got a bit bigger. when your roommate couldn't give you the necessary half of the rent that was due and was beginning to be a nuisance, spencer quite literally let you move into his place. he would pay for your car's repairs and bought you jewelry consistently.

one time, as a joke, you called him your sugar daddy - mostly because that's how he acted. he just didn't like the term. he felt as though it made your relationship together seem one-sided when you were, in fact, very in love with the man. you came to realize it also made you seem like a gold digger, which you weren't - even though the money is a nice plus. so, you relented and didn't say that again.

spencer never really had much time off now that he was working back at the bau and traveling but now, you had him to yourself for a whole week. you had been planning this since he told you when he'd be off.

step 1: look sexy - you always looked sexy to him, but feeling sexy would also be a plus.

step 2: surprise him while looking sexy - absolutely devious.

step 3: seduce him - when doesn't he want you? exactly.

it was foolproof.

you had gotten the text 15 minutes ago that spencer was on his way back to his place, wanting you to meet him there once he had settled in. little did he know that you were in a sexy little white number - the white reminded him of your innocence which really got him going - lying in wait for him in a pair of heels. you sat in one of his reading chairs, deciding to pick up a book until he got home.

when you heard the jingling of keys coming from the other side of the door, you assumed your position. the chair was turned toward the door, you sitting pretty with one leg crossed over the other.

spencer walked through the door, hanging his coat and briefcase up before finally noticing you. his eyebrows shot up, looking your body up and down hungrily.

"wow," he smiled a wicked grin as he slowly made his way to where you were sitting. you stood up, heels clicking as they hit the floor and walked closer to him.

"i wanna try something," you placed your hands on his chest, pushing him back slightly until he was forced to sit down on the couch.

"and what would that be, princess?" he asked, hands stroking your hair that was cascading down your back.

"i..." you bent down to whisper in his ear, "i want to be in charge tonight," you placed a soft kiss below his earlobe, feeling his body shudder subtly at the proposition.

"are you sure you can handle that?" he chuckled, hands roaming to your waist and grinding your hips down on his.

you almost gave up. almost. you grasped his hands, placing them on the arm of the couch before getting close to his face. your lips were almost touching before you whispered, "no touching today, pretty boy."

you felt his hips rut up against your core, you chuckled at his eagerness. you decided to throw him a bone and ground down, hard, against his hips. the groan he let out was low and enticing, nearly enough to allow you to give him whatever he wanted.

"bedroom," you whispered against his neck before getting off of his lap, allowing him to scurry to the room. "take off your clothes while you're at it!" you giggled under your breath as you heard his clothes shuffling, telling you that he was obeying your request.

you waited a couple of minutes until you went into the room, wanting to have him go a bit insane like he normally did to you. when you walked in, he was laying on his back on the bed, just like you wanted. his cock was already red and leaky, prominent as it bounced on his tummy.

"good boy, spence," you giggled, walking over to him and straddling his legs.

once you were settled, you pressed a chaste kiss to his lips before trailing them down his torso, leaving the occasional hickey scattered on his chest. traveling kisses down his happy trail, you traced the vein on his dick and watched it twitch up and hit his stomach once again you giggled at the reaction.

"now i understand why you like so much responsiveness," you chuckled as you pressed a soft, barely-there kiss to the tip of his cock, he hissed once again from the contact.

you slowly took his cock in your mouth, agonizingly slow, and flattened your tongue at the base. one you got him as far down you could manage, you began bobbing your head just as slow. his hands flew to your hair, trying to force you to go faster until you swatted them away.

"should i tie those up?" you threatened, your hand working at his member as you spoke.

"are you fucking kidding me?" he swore, clearly agitated by your antics.

"no," you squeezed his dick for punctuation, the way he grunted made the wetness pool in your underwear. "i'm not kidding you."

you took him in your mouth once more, bobbing your head far more vigorously than before this time, just to spite him. hollowing your cheeks, you swallowed around him and began gagging around his dick before coming back up for air.

"fuck," he whispered underneath his breath, not wanting to let you know just how much of an effect you had on him.

you smiled to yourself and continued your antics until he was spilling all down your throat. you didn't stop there, you came back up and let your hand continue pumping his member slowly.

"shit," he hissed from the stimulation.

"shhh," you put your free finger up to his lips.

you gave his dick a few more strokes, curses leaving his lips delightfully before you drew your hands up his body once more before straddling his lap. after moving your panties to the side and slicking his cock with your arousal, you ground against him leisurely, trying to tease him a bit more. you unclasped your bra, throwing it somewhere in the room. finally, you reached between the two of you and lined him up with your entrance.

"are you sure you can do this?" spencer asked, not to entice you, but to make sure you were alright.

"there's a first for everything," you chuckled, knowing you had never been on top before.

you had never been on top before - you'd like to blame your lack of experience. you knew it might be hard to keep up the pace, but you were determined to make not only yourself but also make spencer feel good. that's all you've ever wanted. that's what you're meant to do - make him feel good. so no matter what it took, you'd make it happen.

you slowly lowered yourself onto his dick, being wary of how much bigger he felt from the new angle.

"shit," you whispered, your hands resting on his chest in attempt to ground yourself. "oh god..." you trailed off, feeling your dominant personality fade away as the pleasure overtook you.

"keep going, princess," he spurred you on, his hands finding your waist and rubbing gentle circles on your skin. "you've got it."

so you rose on your knees until only his tip was inside of you for you to lower yourself once more. you whimpered from the feeling of him re-entering your body, your pussy clenching around him as if he were an intruder.

"doing so good for me," he grasped your waist a bit tighter so he could help you rise and fall on his cock. "fuck, it's so good."

"d-doctor, i-" you stuttered, the persona nearly entirely gone and nowhere to be seen as he continued to move you up and down.

when you learn forward, your face hovering over spencer's chest, he took the opportunity to wrap his arms entirely around your waist. before you knew it, he was slamming his length into your pussy over and over and over and over again.

"oh! oh my god," you moaned, your voice reaching a higher octave as he drilled into your body in the most pleasurable way imaginable. "don't stop! don't stop! ple-please!" you screamed out, your hands wrapping around his torso and squeezing his body to ensure that he was there - present.

"i won't, princess. just let go. let go for me," he pressed a kiss to the top of your head so sweetly in contrast to how he was fucking you.

"i'm cumming! oh god, i'm cumming, spencer!" you cried out as you released the tension from inside of you.

only spencer wasn't done yet, so he took himself out of you, and he placed you on your back before reentering you. he moved in and out of you at a godly pace, trying to get himself to his climax before you would become too overwhelmed from the overstimulation.

"spen- spencer," you scratched at his back, surely leaving red marks for him to ogle once you were through. "i-i'm close," you sucked lightly at his earlobe before he moved his hand between the two of you, circling the little bundle of nerves at your crest.

"my little insatiable bunny, huh?" he smiled as you whimpered into his ear, nearing your second release. "loves my cock a bit too much, huh?"

"please! fuck!" you shouted out as you came on his dick, pulling at his hair. the clenching and fluttering of your pussy finally sending him over the edge, his hot release flooding your insides.

"fuck," he groaned into your ear as he carried the two of you through your releases. "good job, princess," he pressed a kiss to your neck as you stroked his hair, playing with it as you were still coming down.

"i'm sorry," you frowned once he pulled out, finally making eye contact as he lay down beside you.

"what for?" he asked incredulously.

"i just... i wanted to make you proud and i couldn't even finish without your help," you explained in a whiney manner, not allowing yourself to meet his beautiful eyes.

"hey," he grasped your chin to force you to make eye contact. "i love it when i have to help you reach that high. that's not something to be embarrassed or upset about."

"i know but i wanted to ride you and i couldn't even do that," you rolled your eyes.

"it takes time to get used to doing that," he chuckled. "and besides, riding someone on the bed is never a good way to begin. the couch is always better - that way you have the back of it to hold onto."

"really? so it's not that i'm just terrible at being a top?" your eyes widened with hope, he smiled at your eagerness.

"i think you could be a switch but it needs a bit of work, my love," he brushed your hair behind your ear before seeing your disappointed gaze and adding, "but i'll bet that with enough practice i could start calling you my little bunny, yea?"

"really?" you perked up at the proposition. "i want you to call me that."

"well then, i guess we better start practicing," he grinned before leaning in and giving you a sloppy kiss, his hands flying to your waist as he stood the both of you up to go to the couch.

needless to say, with spencer's guidance you were able to master the art of riding him. and you got that special little nickname, too.

taglist:

@averyhotchner

@greenprisca

@muffin-cup

@emilyprentisslittlewhore

@spenxerslut

if you’d like to be added to the taglist, please don’t hesitate to message me or leave a comment saying so!

#jtr23 #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #sugar daddy!spencer #spencer smut #spencer reid fluff #professor reid

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wonlouvre · 4 years ago

Text

pairing: doctor!wonwoo x lawyer!female oc genre: modern royalty, arranged marriage, fluff and future angst word count: 3.2k WARNINGS: child trafficking, child labor

a/n: just a disclaimer, i am not that well-versed when it comes to investigations and trial procedures at the court. please do correct me i make a mistake. i hope you enjoy this new part! i think we have about three or four chapters left. ANGST is on the next part :’(

seven: if you can’t believe | masterlist

“On April xx, 20xx, at approximately 10:30 in the morning, two unidentified males entered and held hostage the Emergency Room of the Royal Hospital. The nurse in charge of the information desk said that the two males approached the desk and asked if there were two boys (their identities are yet to be confirmed) admitted to the hospital. They claimed that they’re their guardians and wish to have them discharged and transferred to a different hospital. Based on their description, the nurse confirmed that there were two boys who came to the hospital earlier in the morning. However, the nurse informed them that they are not cleared to be discharged yet as per doctor’s orders and if they wish to discuss with the doctor-in-charge, they can. They only need to present IDs or any documentation to prove that they are indeed the guardian.

They did present IDs however, it was not valid and accepted by the hospital. The two males started demanding to see the two boys and insisted that they will recognize who they were. At that point, the nurse said the two males’ were beginning to raise their voices. The nurse asked them to calm down and wait patiently for the doctor-in-charge to arrive. That’s when the two males pulled out handguns and threateningly pointed it at the nurse.

The Royal Hospital’s security was alerted and immediately called the Royal Police. The hospital’s security was able to distract the two suspects until one of the police officers fired a shot. Fortunately, no hospital staff and patients were harmed. It is yet to be identified how the armed suspects were able to enter the hospital undetected.

The Royal Police cannot release the names of the suspects and any other details as the investigation is still ongoing. However, we are looking at the direction that this could possibly be a case of child trafficking and the two suspects are perpetrators.

Please be rest assured that we are committed to solve this case and hold everyone involved accountable. We ask the general public to only believe verified information and wait for the official statements that the Royal Police will release accordingly.

Thank you for your understanding.”

You’re both crestfallen and angry. This paper would probably rip apart from the way your hand is deathly gripping it. It’s never easy to read and hear about crimes committed against innocent people. It’s never easy because they don’t deserve to go through the torment, harm and trauma. You wish you could avoid it, but it would be wrong and unfair to the victims. So no matter how heartbreaking or uncomfortable it is, you read and you listen because you have to be aware of it. You have to know and not turn a blind eye because they deserve to be heard and fought for.

This black and white statement of the Royal Police is nothing but horrible. How did the kingdom let this pass? For a kingdom that’s so proud of its enforcement of strict laws, how did this crime happen right under its nose?

It weighs on your heart and ever since you’ve taken hold of this piece of paper, you don’t know how to continue on with the day anymore. You lean your head against the backrest and stare up the ceiling. You breathe in and breathe out, getting yourself together to think, to function.

Something is telling you that there is more to this hostage taking at the hospital and this case of child trafficking. And you desperately need to know. You’re already aware that the authorized and concerned people are doing their job already, but why is it drawing your attention?

You release an exasperated sigh and massage your right brow. It’s been twitching due to the boiling anger inside you and you just want it to stop. The only way for that to happen is to find answers. Picking up your phone among the pile of papers, you dial the number of the person you’re sure that can give you any information, big or small.

First ring. Second ring. Thi---, “Your Highness.”

You’re quick to your feet the moment he answered. “Hey Seungkwan. How have you been?”

Boo Seungkwan is the man to call. A persistent and assertive prosecutor and person in general. Definitely one of the brightest classmates and lawyers you have ever met. It’s no surprise that he’s hired by the Supreme Prosecutor’s Office as a prosecutor. He knows what he’s doing and more than doing, he knows how to fight to the end.

He actually wanted you to join together and you considered the offer. However, due to your position in the kingdom, you realized that practicing in private is more suitable for you.

“Well,” he says and pauses, “I have been better. How about you, Your Highness?”

“You know that you can call me Y/N, right?” You remind him, offering a smile even though he won’t be able to see it. “We went to law school and passed the exams together.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbles, not a big fan of throwbacks. “To what do I owe this phone call anyway?”

“About the recent statement of the Royal Police, is there anything you’d be willing to share with me?” You requested and faced the window that’s overlooking the city.

You hear him chuckle on the other line. “I knew you’d ask. You do know that I’m risking my job as a prosecutor because I can’t say no to you right?”

“Is it something… big?” You ask nervously, biting the insides of your cheek.

A beat of silence passes and you can tell it is without having him say it. You think your heart is going to explode anytime soon.

“Big or not, it’s a case and a crime,” he retorts. “But this is something that Their Majesties need to brace themselves for,” he continues, warning laced on his voice. “It can shake the cabinet as well because we can tell that one, and if not, some of them are involved.”

There it is. The cold hard truth. There was nothing else to say. It’s more than obvious that the kingdom’s cabinet has been compromised and it will blow right at your family’s faces. You don’t even need to doubt it. But still, your blood runs cold at the thought.

“Thank you Seungkwan,” you say and breathe out a defeated sigh. “Let’s meet for coffee some other time.”

You hear him say “anytime” and then end the call.

You toss your phone back on the table and cross your arms as if you’re trying to hug yourself. Your eyes are out of focus and your mind has questions that need answers. This case is not even about protecting your family’s reputation anymore. It’s about your family protecting its people, its children, from this.

You’ll probably never forgive yourself if you and the rest of your family have failed to do its promise and duty.

“Your Highness?” Jeongyeon knocks on the wooden door and calls for you, pulling you back to the ground. “Are you ready to go?”

You frown and tilt your head to the side, confused. You don’t remember having errands outside the office today.

Jeongyeon notices your confusion and says, “Your monthly checkup is today.”

Oh.

“I’m sorry. It must have slipped my mind,” you say and quickly gather your things so that you can leave now. “Thank you, Jeongyeon.”

She nods, understanding what you meant. She keeps the door open and waits for you to pass through.

What the hell am I going to do? You ask yourself. A million thoughts has started running inside your mind from reading the statement up to finding out that this case could potentially be a crime syndicate. A crime syndicate that the Royal Family failed to prevent. Every day, there are crimes that get tried and solved in this kingdom. But for this particular crime, it doesn’t happen every day and it shouldn’t be in the first place. But, your kingdom must have grown complacent because here it is, a ticking time bomb that will explode anytime soon.

How did this happen and who allowed this to happen?

“Your stress levels are quite high compared to your previous check-up, Your Highness.” The doctor gives you a knowing smile after reading the results of your tests today.

“It’s because of work,” you make an excuse and return his smile with a sheepish one while scratching the back of your neck. “I think.”

The doctor tried to muffle his laughter, but you can hear him snicker nonetheless. He just nods and mutters an, “alright,” and proceeds to write down the results and updates of this consultation.

“Although there is nothing to be concerned about, I still advise you to take things slow,” he once again points out the reminder that he gave from the first time you got admitted. “Remember, I’ll never get tired of saying it.”

You nod and purse your lips in a smile. “I promise I’ll try.”

He raises his eyebrows at your answer, but lets it go in the end.

“I think we are good,” he says and leans his elbows on the table, hands clasped together. “Let’s go back to your yearly check-up, like the usual.”

“Thank you for your time.” You stand up and reach your hand out to shake his. “I’ll see you next year, then.”

The doctor replies with his smile still intact, “I will be here.”

You think about taking the rest of the afternoon off and just go back to your apartment. You suddenly don’t feel so good and present, for lack of a better word. You just want to think alone, away from any distractions.

On your way out to the door, you pull your phone out from your bag to call Jeongyeon. This floor of the hospital is private and reserved only for your family. It’s something you’re not proud of and you should probably talk to Their Majesties about it. You sigh and hold your phone to your ear as you proceed to the elevator. You're only a few steps away when a familiar voice makes you stop.

“Hey.”

You jump in surprise, almost dropping your phone and bag. You turn around and you’re not so surprised anymore to see a grinning Wonwoo with hands inside the pockets of his white coat. With a roll of your eyes, you finally relaxed your tensed shoulders and walked towards him.

He meets you halfway and holds his hand out. You happily take it, making it easy for him to tug you close to his chest, bringing you in for a hug. You wrapped your arms around his neck while his around your waist. Just like that, his breath against your skin made all your worries vanish.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, distancing from him but not letting go.

“I knew that you’d be here,” he answers, keeping his hold on your arms. “Had to see you.”

You scoff and give his shoulder a light shove. “Shut up. We were inseparable until our last day at your hometown and yet you still want to see me. Aren’t you sick and tired of my face yet?”

He pinches your cheek and kisses the tip of your nose. “Of course not.”

“Well, I’m leaving,” you announce and let go of him, reluctantly (as always). “You should probably get back to work.”

Wonwoo doesn’t let you move any further and drags his hand from your arm to your hand, swaying it from side to side as he whines out, “But, I’m on my break. Can’t you stay a little longer?”

You don’t really give in easily and it takes a lot of persuasion before you actually do. Jeongyeon can’t even convince you to stop going home late. But with just one request and pleading eyes, Wonwoo has you standing inside his office.

It’s spacious, but a tad bit messy. There is lots of paper. In fact mountains of them, which you are very familiar with already. A wall of books is on one side of the room while three respective desks are on the other side. There’s a window, which is good, you can see some natural lighting. And of course, a small pantry for coffee and snacks.

Wonwoo offered his chair for you to sit on as he prepared you something to drink. You still look around and try to keep yourself occupied. Your eyes trail on his desk eventually and you can’t help but smile. If every corner of this room is in disarray, Wonwoo’s desk seems to be the only area that is not. There’s nothing much on it except for a jar of pens, pencils and highlighters, a notepad and some bookmarked books.

“You’ve met Soonyoung, right?” He asks, coming back with two warm cups. Coffee for him and tea for you. “I share this office with him and another doctor.”

You nod and take a quick sip. You noticed that it’s almost lunch time on the clock above the door and wondered, “Is this all you’re going to have for lunch?”

“I had some cheeseburger earlier this morning, so I’m good,” he answers and leans against the edge of the desk. “How about you? Are you hungry?”

You smile and shake your head no.

Then, it got quiet.

It’s not an uncomfortable silence, but you think Wonwoo can sense something else by the way his eyebrows raise as if he’s waiting for you to say something more. He sips on his coffee one more time before placing the cup down on the table. Afterwards, he takes matters into his own hands and swivels the chair you're sitting on by the armrest towards him, catching you off guard.

His actions almost made you drop your drink and you thought for a moment if you should punch him again. “What are you doing?”

Wonwoo just gives you a mischievous smirk before leaning down to kiss your lips. Your eyes dilate in surprise while the rest of your body freezes. You’re just thankful you’re already sat on the chair, otherwise your legs would give up and you’d fall. When you don’t resist, his kiss deepens, demanding. But it didn’t go any further than a few more pecks here and there. You let him be until he decides to pull away, but not without giving one last long smooch.

“What was that for?” You ask, suddenly shy.

Wonwoo just nonchalantly shrugs. “Just wanted to kiss you.”

“You startled me!” You hiss and slap his arm.

Wonwoo has started to take pleasure in seeing you all flustered and shy. He finds it cute and he’ll take every chance he gets just to see it. But he knows there’s something bothering you and he’s hoping you give him the chance to hear you out.

“Talk to me,” he says while crouching, almost sitting down on the floor to meet your height. “What’s on that brilliant head of yours?”

You roll your eyes at his choice of words but give in nonetheless, “It’s the hostage that took place previously. There’s a new update about it.”

Wonwoo exhales and moves to massage your thighs. “I read about it briefly earlier.”

You nod and let the silence engulf the two of you once again.

“Listen, the kids they we’re talk---”

“Wonwoo!”

You jump when the door of the office suddenly bolts open with two unfamiliar boys dressed in hospital gowns running inside. They’re quickly followed by a panting Soonyoung who gives the two of you an apologetic smile. Wonwoo immediately stands up as they excitedly dash towards him while chanting his name.

“We heard you were on a break, can we play now? Please?” The little one, which you assumed was the youngest, pleads and hops in the hopes of Wonwoo carrying him. The other one, who’s much taller, does the same but he’s only clinging to his arms.

“I’m sorry if I interrupted something, Your Highness,” Soonyoung says (you’re sure he’s teasing) and gives you a salute. “These boys never get tired and I have no idea how.”

You stand up from the chair too and try to get a good look on the boy’s faces, but you couldn’t because their attention is only on Wonwoo.

“We’ll play, alright?” Wonwoo tries to calm them down.”But I want you to meet someone special first.”

Your heart skips a beat meanwhile Soonyoung’s jaw drops in a silent squeal.

“They were the kids from the statement,” Wonwoo warrily says while making the boys face you.

Statement?

Your heart skipped one moment and the next it dropped to your stomach. You didn’t expect it to be them. You really hoped it wasn’t them. You don’t even know how sure you are that it’s them. But when you finally meet their eyes, these boys don’t seem to be so unfamiliar anymore.

It’s them.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Wonwoo asks, suddenly concerned by the sudden downcast of your face.

“Wonwoo...” you weakly whisper.

They’re one of the children adopted from the orphanage.

“Can you ask the orphanage if they can give us a copy of photographs displayed at their gallery?”

A phone call has never felt so dreadful. You can’t help but bite your nails as you listen to Jeongyeon adhere to your request. A lump has already formed on your throat and you don’t even know how you’re going to swallow it.

You slide your phone back to your pocket when Jeongyeon said she’d get back to you shortly. You turn around from where you were standing and see Wonwoo and Soonyoung playing with the two boys. It’s bittersweet. For one, you’re glad they are free and happy and on the other hand, it doesn’t sit right why they have to go through terrible and unimaginable things just so that they can be.

And it doesn’t help that it all happened here.

Wonwoo told you how they got to know them and how he had asked the hospital to keep them here in the meantime, in coordination with Social Services of course. He didn’t need the hostage taking or the police’s statement to know what’s going on because his guts already told him the moment he saw the state of the boys. But then again, what happened only confirmed what he feared the most.

Wonwoo deviates his attention to you and notices your lost gaze. By the looks of it, he’s aware that this is bothering you. He gives Sam’s hair a ruffle before standing up and walking to where you are.

“Are you okay?” He asks, reaching his hand out to softly squeeze your arm.

“Yeah,” you affirm, but the palm against your forehead doesn’t seem to agree. “I just… I can’t believe this.”

“It’s okay,” he tries to soothe your distress with his hand cradling your face. “I mean, it’s not. But, it’s not your fault.”

Why does it feel like it is?

You couldn’t ask him that out loud so you just give him a nod instead. Wonwoo knows you’re hesitant to believe him and he doesn’t like it. He takes your hands and squeezes them.

“Look at me,” he commands and when you don't, he lifts your chin up himself. “I’m confident this will be solved in no time. Have faith in your people and yourself, hmm? ”

“Okay,” you answer and that makes Wonwoo smile.

Okay. You’re going to stop wallowing in your own uncertainty. You draw your eyes back at the boys and at this moment, you promised that punishment will be inflicted to everyone responsible for their suffering.

No matter what it takes.

#seventeen #wonwoo #seventeen scenarios #wonwoo scenarios #seventeen scenario #wonwoo scenario #wonwoo fluff #seventeen fluff #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo imagine #seventeen imagines #seventeen imagine #seventeen fanfic #wonwoo fanfic #wonwoo seventeen #seventeen wonwoo #fic: ifliys

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jaceyneedsabetterusername · 4 years ago

Text

Hayloft p.3

Pairing: Arvin Russell x F!Reader

Summary: Your dad brings home his new coworker, Arvin Russell, telling you that he’ll be living with the two of you for a while. While attempting to keep Arvin from seeing the disfunction of your relationship with your father, the two of you grow closer than you thought. (Inspired by “Hayloft” by Mother Mother, though that’ll really only be one chapter later on so I don’t know if it really counts…)

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, death, abuse, and sexual assault (depictions of none, though)

Word Count: 5.0k

A/N: I am so sorry for how long this took to publish! Work and school have been CRAZY!

Citation: (This is absolutely cited incorrectly but the poem included was found at this link!) https://rememberingthesixties.wordpress.com/2014/11/15/love-poems

Read the Previous Chapters!

Part 1 Part 2

_________________________________

“No! No! No! I ain’t got time for this today!” You groaned, twisting your key in the ignition only to hear the engine struggle to turn over. You were already running late to work, thanks to you misplacing your shoes, purse, and keys all on the same morning. When it was really only just you, your dad, and Arvin living in your home, it was ridiculous to be losing things as often as you did. It’s not like they were touching them. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think there was some gremlin that lived in the linen closet and hid your things to make life more difficult.

Of course, your car wouldn’t work either. What a fantastic beginning to the day.

You weren’t even sure what could be wrong with the car. It had worked just fine yesterday. There was no reason for it to suddenly fall apart on you. But alas, after several minutes of trying to start the car and checking what basic things you knew about under the hood to no avail, you gave out a groan of anger, “Damnit!”

With an angry kick of your old tire, you stomped back into the house. “Everythin' okay?” Arvin asked from the dining room table, where he sat eating a plate of toast and eggs.

“I was already running late this morning and now my stupid car won’t start,” you grumbled, throwing your purse onto the open chair and taking the phone off the receiver on the wall with more aggression than you intended. You were spinning the dial and putting in the phone number to the diner you worked at.

Arvin leaned forward in his seat, “I can take a look at it for you, if you’d like.”

“That would be great if you’re willing to but-” You began to answer but you stopped abruptly and held up a finger to him when a voice answered on the phone.

“Molly’s Diner. How can I help ya?” A woman’s voice that you recognized as your coworker Charlene asked from the other side.

“Hey, Charlene?” You asked, shooting Arvin an apologetic look for the sudden interruption. She sounded surprised to hear your greeting on the other end.

“Where you at, girl?” She questioned, the ambient wound of the busy diner in the background.

You leaned against the wall, gripping the phone with both hands, “I know I’m late! I’m sorry! My car broke down and I don’t think I can make it-”

“I can give you a ride if you need.” Arvin offered quiet enough for Charlene to not hear him on the other end but you perked up.

“Wait, hang on-” You interrupted Charlene just as she began to respond, “I can actually get a ride in.” You mouthed a sincere thank you to Arvin while holding onto the phone with both hands, feeling a slight glimmer of hope in your otherwise crappy day.

“You know what? Don’t even worry about it. You’re already so late just take the day off and get your car fixed. Just be here tomorrow, alright?” You could almost hear the way Charlene’s hand was waving dismissively from the other end of the phone.

You sighed in relief, “Thank you so much. I’ll make it up to you!” After a few brief goodbyes, you hung the phone up on the receiver.

Arvin stood up and placed his plate in the sink, “So are you needin’ a ride to work?”

You shook your head, “No, Charlene said to just take the day off ‘n get the car fixed. Thank you, though. It really is sweet of you to offer.”

Arvin only shrugged, “C’mon, after all you done for me, givin’ you a ride into town really ain’t much at all. I’d still be more than happy to take a look under your hood if you’d like.”

You blushed and tried to suppress the immature giggles that threatened to slip out at the way he worded his offer. His face visibly paled and began to stumble over his words, “‘m sorry! I didn’t mean for it to come out like that! I didn’t mean take a look under your… erm. I ain’t too good with my words sometimes. Forgive me.”

You laughed outright now, stepping forward and trying to pull his nervously fidgeting arms down, “It’s okay! You’re fine! You’re fine! I would love it if you looked under my hood.” You teased, overexaggerating the way you emphasized his words, throwing them back at him.

He rolled his eyes at you, an embarrassed smile pulling the corner of his lips upwards, before looking back down at you. It was then that you realized just how close you and Arvin were, your fingers still loosely touching his forearms where they had fallen. You looked up into his eyes - those soulful brown eyes - and found yourself wanting to know everything that they’d seen.

That familiar heat rose to your cheeks and you pulled your hands back, running them up and down the white apron you wore over teal uniform, “Well, um, I’m gonna go get changed outta this if I ain’t gotta wear it for work and then I can help you out with the car?”

Arvin’s hands found their way to his pockets and he nodded in understanding.

You had changed into a pair of jeans with a buttoned up blouse before jogging out front to find Arvin already bent over the exposed inner workings of your car. “How’s it lookin’?” You asked, slowing to a pace until you reached the car. You landed beside him, hands falling on the dirty metal as you leaned over to see the mechanics. He fiddled with a few things here and there, things that you didn’t quite understand. You were good with the basics of fixing your car. You could change the oil and fix a flat but when it came to the more complicated stuff, you were a little less well-versed.

He leaned back and wiped his greasy hands on each other, “I think I have the problem pinpointed. ‘M gonna need to head into town and get a part but it’s not a hard fix at all.”

“Thank you so much for doin’ this. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You took a few steps back as Arvin lowered the hood, letting it fall the last few inches with a heavy thud.

“Yeah, well I’m happy I can finally be some help ‘round here to you.”

You rolled your eyes, following Arvin back to the house, “Please, you are plenty of help ‘round here. More help than I’ve gotten in years.”

Arvin gave you a knowing tight-lipped smile and nodded once the two of you made it through the front door. He didn’t say anything for a moment but there was a silent understanding. “You need anything while I’m out?” He asked, changing the subject.

You shook your head, “No, I’m alright. Thank you though.”

It was rare that you actually had time to yourself. While Arvin was gone, you found yourself wandering around confused for a short while until the buzzing silence wore on your ears. You sat on the couch and pulled the radio over closer to you on the coffee table, looking over your shoulder as if someone would catch you at any moment.

This was one of your secrets that you held close to you, knowing your father would make fun of you if he ever found out. Moon River had been a favorite radio program of yours since you discovered it while tuning through the stations a year back. It was full of romantic poetry and slow beautiful music. Everything you dreamt about but knew you could never have, not while you were stuck here at least. But a girl could dream.

“Tonight’s love poem is written by Betty Hayes Albright. We hope you enjoy.

They tell me not to write of love

but what else can I write –

when love is in my heart and soul

and mind both day and night?

“You’re just too young and you can’t know

of love,” (does anyone?)

“you can’t profess such knowledge –

stick to verse and pun.”

They tell me that, and say love poems

are worn out through and through

but I can’t agree with them,

for me love is brand new.

Feelings in me can’t stay down,

my love for him I can’t ignore,

somehow it’s got to be expressed,

“I’ve got no lock upon my door.”

To those who stick to subjects

of the sky and stars, of joy and pain

I write my poems of love because

my heart’s love-blood shall never drain.

Perhaps they too shall love again.”

You sighed as it came to an end and you couldn’t help but see Arvin’s face in your mind’s eye. Love had always felt like something you could only dream of. It was a “one day when I get out of here” thought, not something you saw yourself obtaining for a long time, if ever. Now with Arvin… well you weren’t sure if you could call it love but it sure as hell was the closest thing to it you’d experienced.

Since the words were spoken, they kept swirling around your head: “When love is in my heart and soul; and mind both day and night.” Since his arrival two months ago, Arvin had been that very subject on your mind almost constantly. He was the first face you hoped to see every morning and the last one you wanted to see before bed. Your entire mood lit up every time he walked into the room, even when you were stressed from work or your father. It hadn’t been hard for you to realize that he became the lighthouse in the rocky ocean, promising solace and providing light in the storm that could be your life at times. It was hard to not fall for that.

"Never heard that one before." You whipped around in a panicked start to see Arvin standing in the foyer. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."

You shook your head and tucked your hair behind your ears, "No, no, you're fine. You read a lot of poetry?" You watched Arvin shake his head and walk into the room. He stopped on the other side of the couch and you climbed up, placing your knees on the cushions and leaning over the back of the couch to look up at him.

"I don't like poetry all that much, at least the ones we read in high school… but I like that one." He looked down at where his hand gripped the back of the couch and his weight shifted on his feet.

Your eyes fell to his hands in an attempt to hide the blush that crept up on your cheeks that really had no place being there. "Yeah… me too. It reminds me that there is real love out there in the world."

A silence settled over the room as your eyes anxiously dragged up Arvin’s body till they settled on his eyes but you found yourself unable to hold his gaze. "I, erm, I got the part I need for your car." He took a step back and lifted the hand that wasn't on the couch, tossing the metal mechanism in his hand.

"Oh," you pressed yourself away from the couch and moved back to stand, "thank you for runnin’ all the way out into town."

He gave you a small smile and a nod, “It’s my pleasure. I’m gonna go see if this fixes the problem.”

***

"That should be it," Arvin slammed the hood back down and wiped his hands on his jeans. "We should take her for a drive to see if she's runnin' alright now."

You nodded, "Alright. Hop in." You took the keys from your pocket and gestured to the passenger seat. Arvin climbed in and you slid into the driver's seat, turning the key. This time, the engine started up without a problem. A big smile spread across your face, "You're a miracle worker, you know that?"

Arvin shook his head, "I ain't no miracle worker. Just good with fixin' things I s'pose."

Your feet were on the brake and the clutch when you shifted into first gear and began to peel out down the long dirt driveway. You stopped at the road and looked both ways, trying to decide which way to go. You looked to your right, the road into town, and then to the left, the way to that field that was oh so special to you. You began to gnaw at your lower lip.

Did you want to show Arvin? That little clearing by the creek had been your secret getaway since you’d discovered it three years ago. You never told anybody about it and you’d never seen anyone else there when you went so, as far as you were concerned, it was yours. Your special hide away, your paradise, your escape. But since his arrival, Arvin had become just that as well.

“You alright?” He questioned, looking over at you with a vaguely concerned expression.

You looked over at him, a nervous twist to your lips, “Can I show you somewhere special?” Perhaps it was an odd question to ask, though you hadn’t thought it was until you saw the curious and somewhat confused look dawn on Arvin’s face. Nevertheless, he nodded and, with a smile, you turned left towards the field.

It was a short but otherwise successful, trouble-free drive. You slowed down and pulled off to the side of the road into the dirt shoulder. “Where are we?” Arvin asked, looking around and seeing nothing but tall grass and trees.

With an impish smile, you turned off the ignition and looked towards him, “You’ll see. C’mon!” You threw your door open and walked around the front of the car towards the passenger’s side, hanging on the passenger door when Arvin finally opened the door to exit the vehicle.

He followed you to the edge of the brush where you walked as if you knew it like home. With minimal effort, you found the overgrown path and pulled him along behind you. The road disappeared behind the two of you as you wandered beyond the tree line, tall birch trees creating a maze that you knew by heart. The path was short and you navigated it with a sixth sense until you led Arvin to a small field. There was an imperfect circle of wild grasses beside a stream that seemingly appeared from nowhere but you knew it was that time of year when the snow started melting off the mountains. Bundles of wildflowers grew mixed in the grass. Just along the bank of the crystal clear creek water was a large dogwood tree with vibrant white flowers.

“Wow…” Arvin breathed out in amazement as he tried to take in the beauty of the place.

“Pretty, ain’t it?” You asked with a smile, the wonder in his brown eyes warming your heart. You were glad that he seemed to appreciate it as much as you did.

You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face as your heart welled with happiness at his stunned reaction. He stepped in a slow circle, taking in the beautiful scenery. “It’s beautiful.”

“This is sorta my… escape from reality, I guess you could call it. I come here and I’m suddenly in a different world away from all the bullshit of life.” You reached down to run your fingers through the soft blades of grass. Arvin smirked and you looked up at him with a short breathy laugh, “What?”

He shook his head and looked down, hands buried in his pockets as always, “I think that’s the first time I ever heard you curse.”

You rolled your eyes, “I don’t do it very often. My daddy would always yell at me tellin’ me how un-ladylike it was to say bad words. Told me it made me sound ugly. I think his exact words were ‘a dirty mouth makes a dirty woman.’” Your voice dropped to mock your father.

Arvin spoke plainly, “Your pa needs to treat you better.”

You gave him a sad knowing smile and looked down at the ground, “It wasn’t always like this, y’know? I think that’s the saddest part.”

“What you mean?” Arvin asked.

You sat down on the grass, feeling the soft blades press against your skin as you sat back on your hands. Arvin followed suit, finding a comfortable spot beside you and waiting for you to continue. “When my momma was alive, he hardly ever drank. Wasn’t nothing like he is now. I think that’s the only reason I’ve put up with as much as I have. I hate seeing this miserable shell of the man I once knew but I also know that a real father wouldn’t have let himself fall into this pit - or at least stay down there long enough to practically leave his daughter to fend for herself. I just always hoped that maybe one day he’d pull through and… y’know… be my dad again.”

You laid back on the ground and stared up at the sky. The clouds passed by, white and weightless, pure and unaffected by the troubles of this world. You envied them. The way they floated along, either bringing shade and beauty to the sky or raging unapologetic storms, with no constraints as to where they could float and how they could behave… it made you wish you could be a cloud.

Arvin was silent, unsure of how to respond. He wanted to offer words of support and encouragement but he never had been too good with words. He hadn’t really been taught to talk about problems. His daddy had taught him to finish them with his fists. Finally, he sighed, looking out across the field, “I understand. I felt the same way ‘bout my daddy.”

You perched up on your elbows, “Really?”

He nodded and looked down at his leg, which he was slowly rolling side to side just to keep fidgeting in some way, “Yeah… he, uh, he changed into a totally different man after my mama died.”

You looked up at him but you could see he was trying to avoid your eyes. You rested a gentle hand on his knee, “‘M sorry, Arvin. I had no idea.”

He shook his head, “Nah, don’t be. It’s been a long time.”

“D-do you mind if I ask what happened?” You cautiously inquired but quickly added, “Of course, it’s fine if not. You just… you don’t talk much ‘bout yourself.”

Arvin took a deep breath in, “My mama died when I was ‘bout ten. Cancer took her. My daddy tried everythin’ to keep her alive but when it didn’t work… he killed ‘imself too.”

This time you were unsure of how to respond, stunned by the new information you’d just learned. “I-I’m so sorry,” you breathed out in disbelief. For some reason, you had never thought that perhaps Arvin could have had a similar childhood experience to you, like losing your mothers, but your heart went out to him.

“It took a long time for me to understand why he did what he did but I finally realized that he just loved my mama so much that he couldn’t bear to be away from her.”

“He should’ve loved you enough to stay for you.” Before you could stop yourself, the stunning but honest words slipped from your lips. You damn near stopped breathing when you realized what you said, “I’m sorry. That was out of line. I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s alright.” Arvin had been stunned by the words that came out of your mouth but he knew damn well they were only a vocalization of a thought he had had almost every day since the day his father put a bullet in his head. “I’d be lyin’ if I said I hadn’t thought the same thing before.”

A heavy silence weighed over the two of you that was only relieved by a cool breeze. “So what happened to your mama?” Arvin asked.

Your face twisted, “Labor complications. She was pregnant with my little sister. When she went into labor, things just went really wrong. She lost too much blood ‘n died. The baby died too. I think it was just too much loss at once for my daddy to handle.”

“That’s too much loss to make a child deal with on her own,” Arvin commented the same way you had earlier.

You shrugged, wavering your head from side to side. Like he’d said, you would be lying if you said you hadn’t had the same thought. “Looks like we got a lot in common.” You chuckled sadly, “I feel like I lost everyone who ever loved me. My mom, my sister, my grandparents, my dad...” Another silence settled and you waved the thought away, pushing yourself to sit up, “‘M sorry. I didn’t mean to make this all sad.”

Arvin shook his head, “You ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry for.” He paused, hesitant to continue. He hadn’t talked to anybody about what happened back in Coal Creek and Knockemstiff but something was strongly compelling him to. Maybe it was a bad idea to continue but he did, “I had a sister once too.”

Your mouth fell slightly in surprise and you let out a heavy breath, “You did?” The use of the words had and did instead are have and do were not lost on you and you couldn’t help but wonder what had happened.

Arvin swallowed hard and nodded, “Yeah… she, uh, she got into some trouble with this no good preacher that came into town. She was just so lonely, reminds me a lot o' you, but when he saw that and he took advantage of her. Took everythin’ he wanted and when she got into trouble he just told her she was crazy.” He paused for a moment, the memories of his sister flowing through his head, “Found her hangin’ in the shed.”

You were dumbfounded by the story you’d just been told. Anger and sadness were clear in Arvin’s voice despite his attempt to hold on, though you had a feeling that just the way he had been telling you about it meant that he had shared more of himself than he ever intended to . You struggled to wrap your brain around the tragedy he had just shared. “What’s her name?” You finally asked after a few moments of silence.

Arvin looked out across the field again and then back at you, “Lenora.”

“Lenora,” you repeated, “That’s a pretty name.” Arvin only nodded wordlessly. Again, another pause before you continued, “You said it was some preacher that got her in trouble? What happened with that? I mean, you knew? Didn’t anyone else? Is he in jail or somethin’?”

The man tensed up next to you and shot a look towards you that was sharper than one he’d ever given you before. You shrank back ever so slightly, taken off guard by his response to your seemingly simple question. “‘M sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. You don’t have to-”

“Ain’t nobody woulda believed my Lenora if she told ‘em. You know how people see women who got babies ‘n no husband. Especially since he was the preacher…” he trailed off and you were desperate to see the memories that played behind his big brown eyes, “He ain’t gonna hurt nobody no more.”

Your brows knitted together, trying to decipher what that meant. Did he go to jail? Was he fired? Was his reputation ruined? You prayed whatever justice he got was fit for something so atrocious.

"I'm sorry you lost your sister."

"I'm sorry you lost yours too."

After a long silence, Arvin laid back beside you, his body grazing your arm as he lowered himself. The two of you rested beside each other in this new understanding of each other. As you struggled to keep your attention on the sky, your eyes frequently straying from the vast blue expanse overhead to the beautiful man to your right, you couldn't help but wonder if by some insane fantasy maybe he'd be struggling to keep his eyes off of you in the same way.

"Let's talk about somethin' less depressing," you prompted, "How 'bout girlfriends? You ever had one of those?"

Arvin’s chest rose and fell heavily as he sighed, "I ain't never had much time for a girlfriend. Didn't much like anybody in my hometown anyways. Don't think nobody liked me much neither."

You rolled your eyes and audibly scoffed, "I find it hard to believe you didn't have girls bangin' down your door for a date. You're tellin' me you ain't never went out on a single date?"

He shook his head, "Nope. I mean I kissed a girl or two back when I was younger but I never had no time for datin'. Always workin' or helpin' my grandma or keepin' Lenora safe."

You rolled over onto your side and looked down at him curiously, "Where you from anyways?"

Arvin was hesitant to answer, you could see it plain as day, though you couldn't figure why. Finally, he answered, "Lived with my mama and daddy in Knockemstiff but moved to Coal Creek with my grandma after they died."

Mentally, you wracked your mental map for any memory of those towns but found none. "I don't think I ever heard of those," you commented, lying back down.

Arvin stretched his arm up and readjusted his cap, "Not many people have unless you're from near there. Just some small towns you'd drive right through and never even notice. Knockemstiff is near Meade, Ohio."

"Oh!" You exclaimed in realization, "I heard of that one!" You giggled. You didn't live anywhere near there but you'd heard the name at least from a friend whose family was from Meade.

"What about you?" He asked.

You began tracing light patterns on your stomach with your finger, "What about me? You know where I'm from."

"You ever had a boyfriend?"

You kept your eyes staring straight up. “I tried datin’ a few boys back in high school but nothing too serious. They didn’t seem to like me much,” you admitted with a shrug. At the time, it had bothered you a little that you seemed to have a hard time finding a boyfriend but now you saw that it was better this way. Younger you had spent night after night praying for a knight in shining armor that would come and whisk you away to some beautiful new life. All they had done was run for the hills because they didn’t want to deal with your daddy… not that you could blame them. You’d learned not to depend on anybody for anything, certainly not some boy to make your life better. You’d have to do that yourself.

“I think it would be impossible for somebody not to like you.” Arvin said quietly but with no ounce of dishonesty.

You rolled your eyes and rolled over to look at him, “Your just sayin’ that.” Despite the fact you swore to yourself he was only joking, blood rushed to your cheeks.

Arvin’s head turned in the crook of his arm to make eye contact with you, “I like you.”

The sweetly joking smile you had on your face fell in shock. “W-what?” You stuttered less than gracefully.

“I mean it. I like you… a lot.” After your pause, his heart fell but he didn’t need you knowing that, “You ain’t gotta say it back.”

“I like you too,” you admitted quickly before Arvin could continue to doubt himself anymore but when you looked over at him, you could see that momentary flash of doubt in his eyes. You could almost hear his thoughts behind those big brown orbs: Nah, you’re just sayin’ that. So you decided to beat him to it, “I really do.”

A warm breeze couldn’t dispel the thickness that had been created in the air between you two as you both looked at each other, trying to decipher what the other was thinking and what on Earth you were supposed to do next. Neither of you were well experienced when it came to love or romance or whatnot but experience wasn’t needed to feel some higher power, call it God or the universe, pulling the two of you together.

You weren’t quite sure when you and Arvin had started to inch your lips closer to each others’ but when they finally met in a gentle experimental kiss, it was as if fireworks had gone off. Your heart swelled with an emotion that could only be described as longing. Breathing stopped as if the feather-light touch of his lips on yours had knocked the air out of your lungs and you found yourself unable to catch it.

Both you and Arvin were hesitant to pull back and neither of you did until there was no air left in your lungs. It was one of those kisses that left you less. Breathless, speechless, thoughtless. Just less. And yet somehow more. A part of you that you had denied being empty for so long felt like it was now filled by Arvin and, perhaps that was too much credit to give for simply saying he liked you and sharing a mindblowing kiss with you, but damn.

“I-I-I uh…” You tried to stammer out something that would be fitting but there were no words.

“You ain’t gotta say nothin’.” Arvin reached over and gently brushed back a strand of hair that had fallen into your face, “But I’ll be damned if I let you go without tellin’ you you’re the most beautiful woman in the world.”

You reached up and covered his large hand with your own, twisting your wrist so that your fingers would interlock with his, “Who ever said you gotta let me go?

__________________

Taglist:

@peterswebshooters

@thisisparadisemylove

@justapurrcat

@tomsirishgirlx

@peterswebshooters

@femmme-xxx-fatale

@kittyformannn

#arvin russel imagine #arvin russel imagines #arvin russell #arvin russel x reader #arvin russel x you #arvin russel x y/n #arvin russel fluff #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland x reader #tom holland x fem #tom holland x you #tdatt fanfiction #tdatt fic #tdatt x reader #tdatt #tdatt imagine #the devil all the time

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lannister-slings-and-arrows · 3 years ago

Text

I and Love and You

The fifth in Rafael Barba/Reader/Frederick Chilton threesome verse written in collaboration with @pascalispretty . Mood board also by the lovely and talented @pascalispretty !! Yep. We did this. Was it necessary? No. Did we enjoy it? Sometimes. Are you going to read it? I sure hope you do and that you like it! Cross posted on ao3!

Part Five of the series So Much Easier than You Realize

Warnings: Total and complete tooth rotting fluff. Schedule an appointment with your dentists, ladies and germs. Rafael is, as always, a bit of a jackass. You will probably have an incurable craving for breakfast food. And the teeniest tiniest mention of daddy kink. Rating: E for everyone because there is nothing objectionable in this at all, I did not think we could actually write something this sweet lol. Word Count: 3725 Summary: Mornings are for cookies and contemplation.

When Rafa wakes up, he spares a moment to sympathize with his growling stomach. More than one moment, if he’s being honest with himself. He isn’t normally an early riser but his stomach wouldn’t be so empty if he’d been allowed to have his bedtime snack and not rudely distracted by his two partners and an ingenious application of his second favorite blue tie. The result is pleasantly sore abdominal muscles and the rare opportunity to wake up in time to see the both of them still peacefully asleep in bed next to him.

Fred’s back is pressed close to his chest and his legs brush against Rafa’s as he levers himself up onto his elbow to look at her on Fred’s other side. Her face is tucked against Fred’s neck and the doctor’s arms are wrapped tightly around her, and Rafa smiles at them both, still asleep in the soft grey early morning light.

Fred shifts, and an irritable frown passes over his face the longer Rafa uses him to balance himself to stare at the two of them, so Rafa quickly presses a kiss to his temple before settling back down with a sigh.

It’s too early to be up, really, but he’s starving and is not getting back to sleep without eating something. He grunts and sits up before pressing another kiss to Fred’s shoulder. He swings his legs out of bed and grabs a pair of grey sweatpants.

Rafa trudges down the hall to the kitchen. There were still Bugles hidden in the back of Fred’s Tupperware cabinet. Oh shit, had he eaten them all? He flicks on the light to the kitchen and huffs a quiet laugh when he finds a sticky note on the door of said cabinet in Fred’s small, precise handwriting.

Sorry, I ate the last of your chips two days ago. In my defense, counselor, you left them in my house and I was having a very stressful day. I made you cookies instead, they’re on top of the microwave. I figured you’d be up before the both of us this morning since you didn’t get your snack. --An Apologetic Psychiatrist who feels like he shouldn’t be apologizing for eating food in his own cupboards.

Rafa runs his fingers over the note a few times, smiling like an idiot, his heart feeling full and warm and about seven sizes larger than it was when he woke up. He turns his head and sees a plastic container (with a green lid because the green Tupperware was for storage of baked goods as Fred was constantly reminding him) right where Fred said it would be, and when he steps over to investigate it further he finds a batch of white chocolate macadamia nut cookies. Another note is stuck to the lid.

I know these aren’t your favorite. I know that you don’t really enjoy white chocolate. Consider this my attempt to make sure you don’t eat all of these in one sitting. Please limit yourself to two; you aren’t in your 20’s anymore, Rafael, and it’s not even a normal time for breakfast yet, much less cookies. --A Not Apologetic Psychiatrist who doesn’t want your first heart attack to be in his apartment, thank you very much.

Rafa rolls his eyes and peels the lid off, smirking as he deliberately takes three out of the box. He doesn’t hate white chocolate, after all, and he does love macadamia nuts. And he has always had a problem following instructions.

Standing at the kitchen counter, Rafa eats his cookies with a pleased groan, once again thanking whatever saints or angels his mami appeals to for sending him a partner that bakes. Not that he thinks his mother would have prayed for someone at all like Fred. Fussy, officious, arrogant, snobby, and, well, a man. His mother would have had someone like their younger lover in mind however. Smart, pretty, and willing to stand up to his attitude. Most of the time anyways. Well, what did Lucia Barba always say? You can make as many requests of God as you want to but remember that He has a sense of humor too? She got him a little extra than what her original request probably specified.

Rafa snorts at the thought and brushes crumbs off his bare chest, leaning back against the counter and surveying the kitchen in the growing light. He’s still hungry but he knows he’ll hear about it if Fred wakes up and all of those cookies are gone. And today is supposed to be the one day this whole month the three of them can spend just being quiet together with no plans, no work, and no prior obligations. He’d rather not spend it all dodging Fred’s passive aggressive jabs and her pouting looks and quiet pleas to please just be the bigger man and apologize.

He stretches his arms out on the counter behind him and tips his head back, staring absently at Fred’s kitchen ceiling as he contemplates making his way back to bed and napping until Fred wakes up and decides to order in breakfast. He’s nearly settled on that plan when he catches sight out of the corner of his eye of the bright blue note on the cupboard. He doesn’t remember Fred spending any time in the kitchen before the two of them dragged Rafa into the bedroom to put his ties to a much more interesting use. He must have gotten out of bed after Rafa fell asleep to put this together, and Rafa can’t help the smile that spreads over his entire face.

Rafa slaps his palms on the counter and shoves himself off, making his way over to the fridge to see what Fred has in the way of actual food. He’s already awake; the least he can do is make breakfast.

He finds the ingredients for pancakes easily enough--Fred is a stickler for organization. Rafa tries not to make a mess as he moves around the perfectly arranged and spotless kitchen. He stirs the batter by hand rather than risk the noise of the KitchenAid but pauses over whether or not to put chocolate chips in.

She would be pleased, her sweet tooth nearly rivals his own, but Fred would almost definitely be annoyed. Especially because Rafa has already had chocolate earlier in the morning. With a fond sigh, Rafa puts the glass jar back in the cupboard, though not before tipping a few of the chocolate chips out into his hand.

It reminds him of cooking in Fred’s beautiful house in Baltimore, his sweet girl laughing and dancing around the kitchen in one of Fred’s shirts, barely being any help at all. All three of them adore the big, beautiful house that Fred had shyly shown them--as if they could have done anything else other than fall in love with it.

Fred relaxed slightly when it became clear that his guests found the house as beautiful as he did. Rafa tried to help her in slowing Fred down as he showed it to them, asking questions about particular objects or features and pointing out the things they especially admired. Every sincere compliment kept a gratified little smile plastered on Fred’s face--and there was plenty to compliment him on.

It’s clear that it holds a special place in Fred’s heart. It’s so him, every inch of it reflecting back the man who poured so much time and effort and money into making it a home. From the collection of antique medical texts carefully displayed on the shelves to the exact shade of teal velvet upholstery on some of the armchairs, Fred had lavished attention on the house to surround himself with things he loved and found beautiful. It amused Rafa to wonder if he’d taken that into account when he’d invited his partners over; whether they’d laud the elegant aesthetic he’d established in his home.

Shifting the spoon briefly to give his right hand a break from mixing, he smiles at the memory. He’s never actually admitted to Fred how much he likes playing house with his two partners there. Rafa is fairly certain that the kitchen in the Baltimore house is larger than the apartment that he grew up in and he knows that a wine cellar is an absurd luxury. But it’s a place where the three of them are free to be themselves, without worrying about nosy neighbors and doormen.

Rafa snorts quietly, folding the batter briskly to get out all the little flour bubbles. That pretty well explains how he feels about Fred too. Fred is too high maintenance, too abrasive in all the ways Rafa normally hates, too… prep school, but Rafa can’t help but smile indulgently every time he turns his nose up at a meal that costs less than fifty dollars, or every time he gets that prissy stubborn look on his face, or juts his chin out and point blank refuses to admit that he’s wrong (even though Rafa can tell that he knows that he is).

He never apologizes either. Ever. He’ll be proven wrong, he’ll hurt both their feelings, and the closest to any sort of acknowledgment of wrongdoing that the both of them will get will be a cup of coffee in bed the next morning, one of Fred’s most handsome smiles, and the complete and sudden cessation of all hostilities like the fight never happened. Rafa knows that with anyone else that kind of behavior would be a relationship killer.

Rafa looks over the batter and nods to himself, satisfied with the consistency, and balances the spoon against the side of the bowl. He stares at the oven and frowns. Just pancakes hardly make breakfast. Going over to the fridge, he grabs bacon out of its particular place, rolling his eyes as he does so, and tosses it on the counter next to the pancake batter, reaching under the silverware drawer for a frying pan.

Maybe it’s the way Fred ‘apologizes’ with the perfect cup of coffee instead of actual words. Maybe it’s that same perfect cup of coffee that somehow manages to find its way onto his desk at work when he’s too swamped to go out and get one--just because Fred knows he needs it. Or a sandwich from his favorite deli and a quick flash of that handsome smile on Fred’s lunch break.

Rafa gets started on actually cooking said breakfast, hissing and swearing quietly when he gets a first-hand demonstration of why you shouldn’t fry things without a shirt on. Fred would have more than a few words to say to him about the relative intelligence of what he’s doing right now. He grins. Maybe that’s it--the way he cares while trying desperately to make it seem like every time it’s an inconvenience of the highest order.

Maybe Rafa loves Fred because every once in a while, when he’s very drunk, very tired, or the perfect combination of both, Fred slips a little and calls the both of them by those cute, ridiculous southern pet names that before now Rafa would have put money on being more myth than fact. And how embarrassed he is when it is pointed out to him that he just called a forty-something year old man ‘pickle’.

Fred is arrogant, prickly, particular, and both overindulgent and overly judgmental of vices depending on if he himself shares in them. He is a pain to get along with most of the time and sometimes treats the two of them like they’re made of spun gold--things to be cherished and well looked after and shown off to the best of his ability. He’s a contradictory monster and Rafa loves him.

He has a feeling that the smile on his face is sappy and ridiculous, but as he turns the bacon and settles to wait a few more minutes, he shrugs. There isn’t anyone else around this early to see him; his reputation as a son of a bitch and a jackass won’t be ruined. He loves Fred. He loves her. He loves both of them--sometimes so much it’s hard for him to keep it to himself and wait for them to come to the same conclusion. Their individual faults, foibles, and perfections and the way they mesh with each other and fit so surprisingly well in his own life.

Like getting new book recommendations from her--whenever he has the time to actually read something for fun. She leaves them on his home desk with a brief explanation why she thinks he’ll like them. That almost always makes up for the numerous occasions he has gone looking for one of his own books and found it had mysteriously jumped off its shelf and walked itself three rooms over, or managed to find itself completely out of order.

He drains the bacon onto a paper towel covered plate and gives the pan a quick rinse. He loves finding packets of M&M’s in his briefcase or in his suit coat pockets, loves knowing they’re from her and that she braved Fred’s ire to indulge his habit of constant snacking. A habit Fred particularly despises. He loves--most of the time--being a couple minutes late to work some mornings because she got into a nearly incoherent argument with him about what color tie he should wear. He loves that she loves his wardrobe as much as he does.

Rafa loves ganging up with her to tease Fred and loves that she can take some teasing herself. He loves that she just rolls her eyes and plays along when his puckish side emerges and he can’t help but be an asshole even though he can tell she would rather he didn’t.

Rafa starts pouring pancake batter, chuckling to himself when he recalls the mood she’d gotten into the last time his sense of humor had gotten the better of him. While waiting for a table in a restaurant, a strange woman had made a snide comment about ‘men dating women young enough to be their daughters’ and Rafa had been unable to resist feigning outrage and asking what was so terrible about a man taking his daughter out for a nice birthday dinner.

The woman had been mortified, and Rafa had enjoyed the look on her face so much that he’d only hammered the point home further, telling her it was hardly his fault he was a widower and a single parent. He hoped it had taught her a valuable lesson in boundaries. His sweet girl had been so embarrassed but it had been so worth it.

Flipping the first pancake, he thinks about the flaws that come with her youth. She’s always the first one to joke about having daddy issues and Rafa can hardly deny how much he enjoys hearing her call him papi--and Fred daddy--in bed. He just has to try not to think too deeply about it. Not that Rafa really has a leg to stand on where difficult paternal relationships are concerned. But her jokes mask an insecurity and a clinginess that Fred has a habit of overindulging. More than once when he’s been trying to work she’s tried to distract him or cuddle up to him and then gotten sulky when he had to gently but firmly rebuff her.

When he finally finishes work on those evenings, he usually finds her wrapped around Fred instead, giving him a wounded look when he finally emerges from behind his case files. Those looks are wordless guilt trips every time he’s on the receiving end of one--no matter how right he feels in his decision to work instead of play.

And yet somehow she’s worked the same magic on him that Fred has. A flaw that in anyone else would have stopped any idea of a relationship in its tracks is something that he’s come to love about her. Her clinginess comes from a place of emotional fragility and it must be hard to let her partners see that. The fact that she trusts them enough to be so vulnerable around them makes Rafa’s heart swell. He can’t help but love her, even when he’s dealing with her pouting and huffing.

Fred talks about it like Rafa is somehow being ungrateful, that he should drop everything to spend time with his beautiful, smart, young lover, and it drives Rafa crazy. He knows that Fred generally means well when he tries to appeal against his more workaholic tendencies, but he also knows that Fred could retire now and live off his trust fund if he wanted. It rubs him the wrong way when Fred tries to discourage him from working hard because he’s never needed to understand why Rafa works as hard as he does.

He starts stacking the cooked pancakes on a plate on the stove and furrows his brow in concentration. Fred gleefully indulges her in her clinginess, dropping everything to scoop her into his arms or take her to bed. They’ve even taken to napping together with his cock still tucked inside her, as if they can’t bear to be anything other than as close as physically possible. He’s stubbornly blind to the fact that Rafa can’t just drop what he’s doing. If Fred misses a deadline for submitting a journal article the worst that happens is it gets pushed back an issue. If Rafa misses something in his case files or submits something late or fails to prepare as fully as he should, it can ruin lives. Dangerous predators can be let out on the street to offend again. People don’t get the justice they deserve. And even in this day and age, a poor boy with a Spanish name is granted a lot less leeway with employers than a rich boy with a nice American name and family money.

They come from very different worlds, even if Rafa has carefully and thoroughly infiltrated Fred’s, and Rafa loves and hates it a little that Fred forgets that most of the time. Rafa has to always be ‘on’ and can’t afford the same kind of laxness that Fred can.

Sometimes he even has to be ‘on’ at home when he’d rather put his fist through a wall or wrap himself in every blanket in the apartment with a bottle of scotch and pass out. Like when he walks into whichever apartment they’re spending the night at to find Fred in a screaming match with her that he has to moderate. She likes to complain that he and Fred can really get into it like a pair of children, and he isn’t saying she’s wrong—they definitely can—but she and Fred are just as bad. Frankly, the three of them are cut from the same cloth when it comes to being pig headed and it makes for some rather loud and spirited fights.

Like the frequent battles she has with Fred over her occasional smoking habit. They always start out with Fred gently chiding and somehow end up with Fred snidely pulling out his “I went to medical school, therefore everyone else is a moron” voice and her reminding him that he couldn’t cut it as a real doctor and she’ll “smoke a goddamn fucking cigarette every once in a while if she fucking feels like it.” Rafa tries to interfere before it descends to “as much as you like to act like it sometimes, Frederick, you aren’t my father” and “maybe if you knew how to make better choices you wouldn’t be constantly seeking validation from older men,” but he doesn’t always get home in time and instead walks in to the both of them glaring icily at each other or shouting as many deliberately hurtful things as they can.

He likes to leave his courtroom face at work, but it’s generally the only thing that will defuse those battles, or at least calm them down into cold wars. Rafa doesn’t particularly enjoy playing mediator on the best of days, especially not when one wrong word from him will have one or both of them turning on him as another enemy combatant. He likes his occasional cigarette too, and he snacks constantly, and eats terribly; all things that Fred will use to drag him into a fight.

But while he hates trying to calm them down enough to at least stop yelling, he has to admit he loves having people around to yell in the first place. Yes, these fights mean he has to put on his lawyer face when he’d rather get drunk and pass out. But he has people in his life to break up fights between. He can come ��home” to people who care about him. People who, when they aren’t screaming, see him come through the door and smile. People who would, and have on occasion, drop what they are doing to bring him something he left at home and needs now. People who drop a sandwich on his desk when he’s working and quietly--most of the time-- leave him to it.

People who care and appreciate him.

Rafa finishes setting plates and cutlery out on the island and starts the coffee maker. He loves having them a few rooms away. He loves knowing that they like him enough to put up with his “shoebox sized apartment”, with him being an incurable workaholic, with the fact that when he gets stressed or angry he lashes out at anyone around him. With the fact that when he does he can be more than a little cruel.

Rafa makes his way back into Fred’s bedroom, wincing as always at how bright it gets when the morning sun fully hits it. He smiles when he sees them still tucked against each other just like he had left them. He loves this view the most.

Rafa grins mischievously. They put up with his innate tendency to be a complete and utter jackass, and that is one more thing he loves about them.

“I just rearranged every single cupboard, bookshelf, and drawer in your entire apartment, Frederick!” Rafa informs the room in general. Loudly.

Fred’s eyes snap open and he sits up, dislodging his sleeping companion without a second glance. His gaze lands on Rafa, who is smirking next to him, and his eyes go comically wide in horror.

“Rafael Barba, you didn’t.”

Tag List: @sassyada, @dreamlover31, @prurientpuddlejumper, @storiesofsvu

#rafael barba x frederick chilton x reader #rafael barba x frederick chilton #frederick chilton x reader #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba #frederick chilton #law and order svu #hannibal #fanfiction #fanfic

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coffee-imagines · 4 years ago

Text

Snow White

part two

Pairing: Draco x muggleborn!reader

Warnings: teasing, make out, smutty but not full on smut (only the tiniest bit of palming)

Summary: Most purebloods weren’t well versed on things such as movies, in particular one blonde headed slytherin.

———————————–

You never had much interaction with Draco until your last year at Hogwarts while he was in his sixth. You always tried avoiding the loud mouthed blonde after all the stories you heard about him. There were plenty of times you’d heard the phrase ‘mudblood’ come from him when he directed it toward others. You knew there was nothing you could do, but the way your blood boiled every time you heard that word made you avoid him like the plague, not knowing what you’d do to him if that were ever directed toward you.

You were sitting next to Draco in Snape’s class, wishing you hadn’t decided to take potions in your seventh year. You had managed to avoid the boy next to you and you were unfortunate enough to get paired with him by a ‘random’ selection. There was no doubt in your mind that Snape chose partners based on who he thought hated each other the most.

“Give me that.” Draco spat, grabbing ingredients out of your hand without blinking. You glared and grabbed it back holding it farther from him when he reached for it again.

“I know what I’m doing Snow White. I don’t need your help.” You explained, putting the ingredients on the far end of the table.

“Snow White?” He asked looking at you in confusion only fueling you more.

“She’s a princess just like you.” You smirked and turned back to the cauldron. You were reading through the directions silently to yourself when you felt Draco’s breath fanning over your neck. “Ever heard of personal space, princess? I believe I see your book right there unopened.” You pointed to his side of the table only for him to move closer.

“I’m not a princess.” He grumbled, reaching across for the ingredients only to have you smack his hand away.

“Then don’t act like one.” You fired back.

“Dammit!” Draco exclaimed when the ingredients fell off the edge of the table causing you to groan.

“Stay on your side Snow White.” You spat, shoving him off of you to bend down and retrieve the ingredients.

“Don’t call me that.” He mumbled and you rolled your eyes.

“I thought nicknames were your thing princess? Can’t handle when the tables turn?” You teased and both of you stayed quiet for the most part aside from the frustrated gabs you both threw at the other when you got in each other's way.

After that day in class you seemed to run into each other a lot more than you ever had before. It seemed to be common knowledge of your new nicknames for Draco by the second day you were teasing him with them. You could see how much they bothered him, and it only made you want to keep saying them even more. There had always been something else mixed in with the annoyance that you could never read off his face, but there was no way you were going to let anything stop you from degrading him with them.

This had gone on for months on end, Draco seeming to get more frustrated with the names the longer they went on. It had surprised you that he never seemed to have any insult to throw back at you. Half the time you had expected him to throw back you being muggleborn in your face, but even that hadn’t come up. It hadn’t been until you’d bumped his shoulder during Christmas that it seemed to finally get to him.

“Filthy little mudblood.” Draco spat at you while you walked away making you freeze in your spot. Your hand started shaking, and the anger from the past six years finally came out. You turned on your heel, grabbing your wand before roughly pinning him to the wall with a shove.

“Listen here princess.” You growled, shoving your wand into his throat making him let out a choked gasp. “You ever, and I mean ever, call me that again and my wand is going to be so far up that tight ass of yours hexes will be flying out of your mouth.” You spat in his face, your wand digging even deeper into his skin with each word. “You may be a pureblood but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re just a scared little boy who has been spoiled rotten by his daddy his entire life.” You explained, your chest rising and falling quickly.

Draco’s heart was beating out his, and you could see the lust that began filling his eyes, his breaths coming out shallow when his airways started becoming more restricted. You felt something stir inside of you, a tingling sensation settling in between your legs when you realized how close you were to him. There was a fantasy that you hadn’t known about within you, and you couldn’t believe that it was happening with Draco Malfoy of all people. Your eyes flickered down to his pants when he shifted and you smirked when you saw the tent that had formed. Unknowingly you pushed your wand harder against his throat and Draco let out a confused whimper.

“You really are just a spoiled little brat aren’t you Snow White?” You teased pulling away, your wand finally going back into its rightful place before you looked Draco up and down. He gave a small shy nod, the heat rushing to his face making him turn a deep shade of red.

He stayed silent, not knowing how to respond until you pinned his arms above his head and kissed him roughly. Draco moaned into the kiss, melting against the wall making his arms go slack in your grip. You let them slide down a tad, your fingers brushing his palms before your fingers interlocked tightly with the others. You finally pulled away after what felt like years, both of you panting and looking flushed.

“I…” Draco breathed out, his words getting caught in his throat, his fingers coming up to touch his lips that were still tingling.

You couldn’t help but pull him in for another kiss, your fingers immediately tangling into his hair. Draco seemed to be unable to move anything other than his lips, melting at everything and anything you did. He’d wanted this for months, every time you’d degrade him it sent a shiver down his spine and the deep want in him only grew as time went on. Now that his own fantasies were getting fulfilled he could hardly get himself to do anything to you in return.

“You’re being so good for me” You praised softly, kissing under his ear earning a small whine from the boy leaning against you.

You started leaving all the marks you could manage to leave against his neck, all the whimpers and moans you were receiving only fueled you to leave more. Your hand ran down his shirt slowly, and when you grabbed his hardened length through his pants his head fell forward onto your shoulder. Draco’s warm breath fanning over your neck made you shudder, but that didn’t stop you from rubbing him at an agonizingly slow pace.

A surprised moan left you when Draco’s lips started grazing against your neck between moans and he started sucking gently. There was no doubt in your mind that by the end of this both of your necks were going to look as though they had lost a fight to leeches. All too soon for Draco’s liking you pulled away, and instead of doing anything more like he wanted you pulled away completely.

“See you later princess.” You smirked, patting his face before walking away and leaving him against the wall watching you in astonishment.

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hoe-imaginess · 4 years ago

Text

just Hawks things

commissioned by anonymous. vaguely smutty hcs included

True Bird Hours: he sleeps most comfortably sitting up with his wings fluffed and folded snugly around him, so he can nuzzle his face into them for the warmth

Yes when he’s got his boo with him, they are also invited to snuggle up in his wings

More birdie things bc why not:

He has an unconscious habit of picking through your hair: brushing fingers through it, fiddling with little pieces, nuzzling his face against it. He’s trying to preen you ok. Please let him. If you are not preened at least once a day… he has not done his job

He also unconsciously fluffs his wings out and makes them a little bigger, more noticeable, when he’s flirting/talking to someone he finds particularly attractive. The bird instinct in him is screaming SHOW OFF YOUR WINGS SHOW OFF YOUR FEATHERS SHOW OFF YOUR PRETTY COLOR MMmmmm plsss look at this plumage bb

But he snaps out of it when he realizes what he’s doing because… omg it’s so embarrassing

His sharp eyes also hone in and out when he’s looking at you because oof he is FIXATED on you. He likes what he sees he is looking DIRECTLY

If you’re angry at him and lock yourself in the bathroom, he sits outside the door like awww come on babe. Don’t be like that. *slips a feather under the door to tickle you*

After a long day of hero work when he comes home to see you, he has either two moods when he gets into bed with you: he knocks tf out, or he can’t stfu

You’ll really be out here trying to get some sleep and he is just running his mouth about all the hero work he had that day, how windy it was, how annoying one of his sidekicks was being—

Those intimate little forehead touches where you just… sit there and relax and simply exist together, eyes closed as you breathe in each other’s presence….. big Hawks mood. He feels so connected to you. He loves it

He doesn’t get jealous very often; he’s too busy for that and he knows how badly jealousy can spiral and ruin a relationship

But when he is jealous and feeling particularly beat up about it, he staves it off by keeping busy with hero work: something to take his mind off of the problem, so that he can think more rationally on it later

He simps for you so hard if you give him a massage. Hero work is tough ya know. He’s got a lot of tension in those shoulders and on his back. I mean, those wings are working overtime all day. Knead out all those knots in his muscles and oof you are getting his unmatched appreciation… and possibly his dick (because yeah, massages… get him really hard really fast)

He’s such a kisser. Kissing fiend. Serial kisser. Forehead kisses, nose kisses, NECK KISSES, throat kisses, hand kisses, thigh kisses (especially what‘s between your thighs)

He also cannot keep his teeth off of you: lots of nibbling and playful gnawing where he knows you’re most sensitive

That being said he tries REALLY hard not to leave hickies even though SHIT he really wants to sometimes. Sucking on that sensitive skin just below your ear reallllllllly gets him going. He wants to latch on and suck and bite while pressed up against you and just… wants to mark you up… whew it’s a struggle not to. His restraint is commendable

Oh and yes he WILL kiss your toes

Let him worship those feet and ankles alright

I’m not done talking about his kisses ok he’s such… a kissing expert. It’s unfair

You want slow, intimate, tentative kisses that get your body hot and tingly and anxious for more? He will deliver. He loves lazy makeouts, and the little teasing nip he gives to your bottom lip just kajshkfjhsd delicious

But oh, you want hungry, desperate, wet kisses too? Yes please. He knows exactly what he’s doing. No awkward lip-sucking and no awkward tongue-poking in your mouth; he takes the lead until you’re dizzy from just the kisses alone. And his hands are running all over you while he’s doing it. You don’t even know how he’s giving you so much attention because you can barely think of anything but his lips on you, let alone put your own hands to work. When you try to reciprocate and reach for his pants you’re fumbly and clumsy because damn his kisses are literally breath-taking. It’s okay though, he’ll take care of everything. King of multi-tasking

Just imagine him giving you little nibbling kisses along your jawline until he moves back up to your lips, and bites the bottom one gently while looking into your eyes skjdhkjdhgd

Hawks is very sorry but marriage is not really on his agenda any time soon, if ever. Just being your man is enough for him

In fact, please tell people he’s your man. Boyfriend, partner, lover, booty call… yeah those are fine too

But your man? God… He finds that… extremely fcking hot

He has home-cooked meals like twice a year. He does NOT have the time. Honestly he wishes he did have more time, because there’s only so much on-the-go street food he can manage before he starts getting sick of it. No matter how delicious it is

So if you happen to catch him when he’s free and wrangle him down for dinner, he’s shook. He feels absolutely PAMPERED when you cook for him. The food makes him drool but so does your cute ass cooking for him DAMN he feels so… he feels so Domestic™

You might need to… shoot him a text when you’re cooking next time so he can zoom by and grab a plate through your window. Domestic Fast Food. Give him that Scone App the Beef shit please he’s taking your food to go and he will bring the tupperware back later ok

His sidekicks look at him like… wtf?? when he returns to patrol with food. They’re like… Hawks, where did you get that? Where did you even go??

Him slurping his spaghetti: Uhhhhhhh sorry but I’m not sharing this

Oof it’s so hard for him when he’s missing you

He’s so horribly busy he’ll go weeks without so much as seeing your face. Every time he finds some spare time to go see you, even if it’s just twenty minutes, something comes up. He loves spending time with you but hero work has to come first

And forget keeping up through text or call. Sometimes he doesn’t have time for that either. Makes him feel like an asshole, and he gets these little pangs of anxiety when he thinks that you’ll start resenting him for his career, that you’ll start feeling neglected

He would definitely understand if that made you want to end the relationship though. It’s gonna hurt, but if that’s what you need, he understands—because those little pangs of anxiety aren’t just because he thinks you might leave him, but because he doesn’t want you to feel like you aren’t worth it

You are, you’re absolutely worth it and you’re absolutely a good and wonderful person. And he doesn’t want you to think otherwise just because he can’t give you what you deserve. Don’t let his busy lifestyle make you feel invalid because damnit he thinks you’re so valid and he tries so hard to let you know that

That being said… sorry, but he forgets birthdays sometimes

Doesn’t snore, even when he’s utterly exhausted, but just… sighs…. very cute-like

Otherwise he’s dead silent when he’s asleep, it’s almost scary. He’s alert at all times. Very light sleeper

One sound and he is 👁👄👁 awake

Lost his shit when he discovered snapchat filters because omg they’re so fun

When it comes to how soon he says I love you, it really depends

He falls fast and hard, which really throws him for a loop because he’s a composed and rational guy otherwise

He doesn’t have so much pride that he won’t tell you he loves you when he knows he means it. It’s just a matter of when he’s prepared to tell you

He doesn’t have one preferred nickname for you. He just has… so many. It’s like he spins a wheel every morning to decide what he’s going to call you

Sweetheart, honey, hon’, babe, baby, sweet thing, a simple girl/boy

The baby bird, chickadee, chick stuff is reserved for when he wants to see that sour, unamused look on your face because god they’re such corny nicknames and he knows it

Rainy days suck because they weigh his feathers down, make his wings harder to flap and thus all the more difficult to get around with. His quirk is next to useless when there’s heavy rain so he’s out of commission the whole day. Just sulks around his agency until the weather clears

But days of light showers are nice! Hawks loves giving his wings a little sprinkle, just a little cleanse. It’s so cute when he shakes the wings to dry them out

The first time he gets his heart broken… oof

He’s very socially adept due to his hero training. He’s also well-versed in flirting because that’s just part of the charisma he needs as a hero. Unfair as it might be he’s also not above charming people to get what he wants

But actual, truthful, organic romance?… He’s a little lost on that

So when he finds somebody he really comes to love, only for that love to be taken away, he’s completely floored. It rattles him and it’s a brutal reminder of the dangers of getting emotionally involved with other people when he’s got such a complicated, demanding life. The heartache is too much and he can’t focus and he hates it

It eats at him for a long time. Something’s changed. He doesn’t take sentiment for granted anymore. He comes to fully respect—also resent—the way love can utterly change perspective

Romantically inept as he may be sometimes, he’s… still an absolute SIMP of a man

Do not ever talk down to yourself when he’s around because he goes full cheerleader mode

He just wants to encourage you to find some of that self-love okay he thinks you’re fuckn PRECIOUS and DESERVING and AMAZING—how can you not see that you’re all those things???

He’s so proud when you start sticking up for yourself, or when you speak your mind. Even if it’s small, stupid things like actually telling the waiter that he brought you the wrong food instead of meekly going oh… ok… I guess I can eat this instead

like NO!! STICK UP FOR YOURSELF BABY!! He wants you to be the BEST you

And when he asks you “What do you feel like doing today?”, don’t even think about pulling some “Whatever you want to do, Hawks” bs on him because NOPE. Tell him what YOU want. Please don’t be afraid to have a voice ok because he loves it when you’re confident and clear with what you want

#hawks #takami keigo #hawks x reader #hawksy things

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weirdfanaus · 4 years ago

Text

The Notebook

Pairing: Matthew Fairchild x fem!reader Headcanon

Words: 1554

Rating: General Audiences

Masterlist

Warnings: none

Matthew has a notebook he keeps carrying around and keeps looking in, noting things in it or drawing when he thinks no one is looking.

One day you silently try to sneak by him, you see that on a page, doodles surrounding them, are verses.

You, unfortunately, don't get to read anything more than the words her eyes sparkled before he closes it suddenly.

Matthew catches you looking and turns his face to you

"Everything all right?"

"Yeah, yeah."

You shake your head.

He looks at you long and then he puts the leather-bound notebook inside his jacket and continues to look at you.

You don't get to see more of what is written in that book until one night when he forgets his jacket at your place.

The weather has just got warmer, summer is fastly coming by.

All the Merry Thieves and their friends come for a late brunch by your place.

You spend most of the day in the garden, playing cards, drinking and eating fruits and tarts.

The night comes faster than you have all expected and all the guests leave when the clock streaks close to eleven.

Matthew leaves with James, the cuffs of his jacket rolled, runes covering his pale skin.

He is a bit too drunk, as usual.

Later that night you clean up the living space and when you lift his red jacket, the notebook falls open on the carpet.

The same poem, now with more drawings of a woman with a big hat, flowers, mostly tulips in blue ink.

Most words are stricken off, with replacements on top or under them.

You cannot understand much of what it is written, the writing too messy for you to understand.

Leafing through the pages, you end up on various Oscar Wilde quotes:

You can never be overdressed or overeducated.

With freedom, books, flowers and the moon, who could not be happy.

Quotes that you think match Matthew perfectly.

More doodles of faces, eyes, splotches of green, red, black paint cover the pages.

You read some poems, but don’t seem to fully understand them.

You close the book and put it back in its place.

The next day, you meet again, give him the coat, he smiles at you and kisses your cheek in thanks.

More weeks pass by when he asks you to come to meet him in the Kensington Gardens, ready to spend a long day in the sun.

You pack a blanket, a hat, a basket of fruits, tarts and sandwiches.

You meet him by the Serpentine, under an old linden tree.

He has a blanket of his own, a small basket is by his feet.

His light pants and white shirt are cuffed, his vest thrown over the basket and he was barefoot.

He reads from a book that looks familiar to you.

You put your basket on the corner of his blanket, take your sandals off and place your hat on the wooden holder.

He raises his eyes from the words and smiles at you when you sit down.

“Hello.” His tone was playful, light.

You smile, replying the same way.

He puts his book away and moves to kiss your cheek, which makes you softly blush.

He has been into kisses recently, you don’t understand why, but you enjoy it.

He sees your big basket and nods his head in its way saying:

“What do you have there?”

“A lot of food. Amelie could not let me go without having a full meal with me. She wants me to get bigger than I am already.”

“You look amazing, mon coeur.” he replies immediately.

You move the basket in his direction.

“I see that you have your own meal prepared.”

“Well, I wanted to be the one to offer food today. But unfortunately, society has other thoughts, am I right?” a boyish smile fills his face and you fight the urge to kiss his face.

“Unfortunately.”

You watch how he brings his own basket next to yours and starts putting out food from both.

Luckily, you don’t have the exact same food.

You and your cook have picked to get things that are softer, usually eaten by you, while Matthew pulled out a box of smoked salmon and slices of bread.

He arranged the food on plates, you try to help him multiple times, but he refuses, saying that he has it handled.

You eat a little bit of everything you have decided to bring, talk about the people walking by, the mundane couples, the children screaming, sometimes even jumping in the water, probably from a dare or because they have thrown their ball in the lake.

You talk about books and you find out that he is rereading one that James has given him, A Tale of Two Cities.

“James keeps mentioning that his father is obsessed with this every time he sees me with it. And Mr Herondale praises my pick just as many times,” he states while looking at the cover.

“Love, love, love.” he sings, throws the book on his vest and turns to you.

He looks long at you, opens his mouth to say something, but suddenly stops as he has just realised something.

You watch him take the notebook out and scribble in it.

“What are you doing?” you ask lightly.

His pen moves so fast on the paper that it makes you dizzy, so you choose to look at how his hair falls on his face.

“Taking notes…” he pauses. Lifts his head, looks at the water sparkling under the sun, pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. “For my book.”

“You write?”

“Sometimes.” his eyes were again on the page.

“That’s amazing, Matthew. Are you writing something grand as Lucie?” you know that his book is filled with short verses.

“No… Not really, I mostly write verses.” his eyes meet yours, they are shining.

“Sometimes I do that too, though,” he confesses. “I can show you something, but you won’t understand anything, right now.”

“Why not?”

“You can’t see yourself through my eyes, Y/N.”

You feel like you have just stopped breathing.

His eyes are big, the same colours as the leaves of the linden tree over your heads, his hair is curled and messy, bright as the sun.

You stood there, mouth slightly opened and you see how Matthew goes from courageous to shy and ashamed of what he has confessed.

You realize that it is because of your slow reaction, so you calm yourself and cup his face, the skin soft and you try to assure him that you don’t hate him for what he has just said.

“How do you see me?” you softly ask, voice low.

He looks at you caught off guard.

He didn’t expect those words from you, but he doesn’t move his eyes from yours.

“I see how courageous you are, how you try to help everyone, how warm you are. You picked me as your friend and that speaks loudly to me.”

You want to ask more, but you don’t want to interrupt him.

“I see your beauty. You love and give. You have no idea how much, just having you listen to me rant helps me in ways you cannot even imagine. I want to tell you everything. I want you to know everything about me…” he stops.

You know that he wants to say more.

“I want you. I want to court you, Y/N,” he tells you instead.

You haven’t expected him to tell you that, but it was something you have wanted to hear for a while too.

“I want to share a life with you. I want to wake up by your side. I want to kiss you whenever I want, without people commenting on it. I want to see you smile for the rest of my life, Y/N.”

You are speechless once again.

His eyes, you lose yourself in his eyes every time.

“I want that too, Matthew,” you whisper, not to scare him off.

The smile that breaks on his face is the biggest and most genuine you have ever seen from him.

You have never seen him that way, he seemed light, he looked so beautiful.

He kisses your cheeks, joy pulsing through both your bodies, but you cup his face again and stop him.

And you kiss him deeply.

You feel him smiling and you smile too.

He moves his hands around your middle, he draws you in, your bodies now glued.

He gives you his family’s ring after he kisses you a couple dozen times.

You keep it on your thumb because of how big it is.

The two of you lay the rest of the day under that tree. Matthew continues to read, now aloud at your request, from Will Herondale’s favourite book.

When the sun starts disappearing, you gather your things and take a stroll through the park, your hand on his arm.

You share the same carriage and he takes you home, right at your doorstep.

He kisses your cheek, in goodbye, but you move to kiss his lips.

He smiles while walking down the porch and you watch him climb in the carriage, waves his hand and he disappears.

But that night is not the last you see his great smile.

tag list: @malfoysmatrioshka @elleclairez @alebooknerd @fair-but-wilde-child

#matthew fairchild #matthew fairchild x reader #matthew x reader #matthew fairchild fanfic #matthew fairchild fanficton #the last hours #the last hours fanfiction #the last hours x reader #cassandra clare '#chain of iron #chain of gold #matthew faitchild x y/n #weirdfanaus

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ramp-it-up · 4 years ago

Text

Fresh Squeeze Ch. 13

Pairing: Daveed Diggs x OFC Linden Marshall (You)

Set in 2023, post-pandemic

Warnings: Minors DNI, 18 + ONLY, RPF, drinking, dancing, singing, cursing, lots of plot and fluff and sad with some Smut as well. This has everything. Daddy kink, oral sex (m recieving), cum play, drunken confessions/rambling, Love, y’all.

“As” x Stevie Wonder

Word Count: 5.7 K

Plot: Lindy reacts to her gifts, gets another one from the group, and TURNS UP. They finally get back to NYC and deal with having to be apart (or not).

“Well, what do you think?” Daveed was looking at you expectantly.

“I…….”

You really didn’t know what to say. You were surprised, intrigued, curious, and a little frightened. Your mind was trying to take it all in.

Daveed’s heart dropped as he watched your face. He closed the photo app on his phone.

“It’s cool. It’s a lot to think about...” He could kick himself. He’d gotten carried away and ruined a perfect thing. He wished he could rewind time.

“I, I’ll meet you out at the bar. Go have some fun. We’ll talk later.”

He might as well begin getting wasted for when you ended it between you two. It had been a great day and a half. He turned around and headed for the door.

“Diggs, where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

Daveed stopped and turned around, bracing for it. He saw the flash your eyes.

“Look, Linden. I’m sorry. I took it too far. Forget I even showed you that picture.” He leaned on the wall and looked everywhere but at you.

Your heart twisted in your chest. Daveed really did love you. And he was wearing his anxiety all over him. It hurt your heart that he felt that way. It was on you to communicate now.

You approached him slowly and put your hands on his arms as he looked at the floor. You bent your knees to get a glimpse of his eyes and to force him to look at you.

Daveed smiled when he saw you peeking at him. Maybe you weren’t pissed at him.

“I’m so pissed at you,” you breathed.

Oh, well.

“How are you going to lecture me about running away all the time when that’s what you were about to do?”

Daveed opened and closed his mouth. Then he looked at you. You were right.

You slid into his arms and he looked down at you. So fucking beautiful.

“Thank you for my presents, Daveed. I’m not mad that you got them. But you’re right, it is a lot to think about.” You sighed and lay your head on his chest.

“This weekend has been amazing, and I’m happy you got carried away…It means….”

“It means I love you, Lindy.” He kissed the top of your head. “But I get it, you need time to think about… taking that step.”

Daveed realized that you were just nervous.

You bit your lip and nodded. “Yeah.”

Daveed leaned down and kissed your lips. It was slow and sensual.

“Anything I can do to help with your thinking process?”

His lips were at your cheek, moving to your jaw, your earlobe and then your neck. You moaned as he found the spot he’d memorized so quickly, like a verse.

You moaned, heating up again as his hand smoothed your dress over your ass and his fingers reached for the hem. Again.

You felt yourself begin to tumble down the hill of your desire for Daveed, which you tried to snap yourself out of by clearing your throat, to which Daveed smiled at against the skin of your collarbone.

“We should really get back out there.”

You fully expected him to object, but instead he agreed.

“You’re right.” He planted another kiss on your spot. “The crew is working on a gift for you out there.” He nuzzled your neck and then kissed below your earlobe.

“What?” You were curious as to what they were up to. Daveed just stared at you. “W-what do you mean they're working on a present?”

Daveed chuckled and smiled at you, grabbing you by the hand. “I don't know. Let’s go see.”

--------

Craig happened to be passing by when you and Daveed came out of the bathroom. You were caught.

“OOOOOOOOOh. I’m gonna call Monalinda on your ass.” You were swole, and about to cuss Craig out and then instantly deflated.

“Oh shit.” You looked at him. “My mom.”

You dropped Daveed’s hand and dug in your purse for your phone, which you had basically ignored all weekend.

It was lit up with birthday messages, one from Mark, which you deleted, and plenty from other friends and acquaintances on social media.

You looked up at Daveed. “I’m have to call my mom. I’m going to step outside.”

“I’ll go with you.” Craig, your protector.

Daveed didn’t want to let you go, but he didn’t want to crowd you. You went downstairs and out of the door, Craig with you.

You scrolled for the call from your mom, and like clockwork, she’d called at 8:43 am, the time you were born. It was well over 12 hours since she’d called. You cringed and dialed her back.

She picked up immediately.

“Linden? Happy Birthday, Baby.”

“Hey Mama. Thank you. Sorry I missed your call.”

“That’s ok, baby. I figured you’d be busy having fun. Craig watching out for you?”

You laughed and looked over at Craig. “Hey Auntie Mona!” He yelled and all three of you laughed.

“Hey Craig! Take care of Linden for me.”

“Mama, I’m 30 years old now. I can watch out for myself.”

Now she was laughing at you. Sometimes it was like you were her twin, brash and independent.

“Ok, you’re right. Is that Daveed boy there with you? Craig told his father that you had a crush on him.”

“Oh, did he now?” You were gonna tap Craig in his jaw. You made a cutting motion against your throat to him. He just laughed at you and flipped you off.

“Yes, mom, he’s here,” you sighed.

Mona knew that tone. And she laughed at you again.

“Linden, just be open to love, Baby. You deserve it.”

You loved your mom so much, but It was when you were talking to her that you were reminded of Dell. That’s why you tried to avoid it. Because when you thought about Dell, you felt like you didn’t deserve anything.

You thought about how you should be on a three-way call with her and Dell, her wishing you both a happy birthday.

“Mama…. I’m sorry. I…”

“Linden. Stop it. Just stop it. It wasn’t your fault. You can’t live your life blaming yourself. He’d want you to move on. And he’d be so proud of you now. I’m so proud of you.”

“I love you Mama.” You smiled through your tears.

“I love you too, Baby. Now get off the phone with me and go have some fun with that tall, fine man. And tell me all about him when you get back, maybe bring him to meet me if you realize you should snag him. Have a safe flight.”

You laughed at her read. “Ok, Mama. Goodbye.”

“Bye, Lindy.”

You took out your phone and scrolled through your pictures of Dell. You picked one and made your annual post for your birthdays. Craig moved toward you and took you in his arms.

“You okay, cousin?”

You looked up at him, and the tears came harder because he was crying too. He was the only one who missed Dell almost as much as you. Except your mom, who probably missed him more. You hugged Craig and let yourself cry.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine after I kick your ass for telling Uncle Lindron about Daveed. You know he and Mona talk every day.” You started to walk back into the club, where Daveed was watching for you to return.

“Lindy, this ain’t Jersey, and I’m not one of those little hoodrats you used to fight all the time. I’ll fuck you up, just like I did in the 7th grade.”

“Shut up, Craig!” you laughed and pushed him, lightening up a little, especially when you saw Daveed’s concerned look as he came for you.

“You okay?” You looked up at him and smiled, giving him a quick peck on the lips. “I’m good.”

Craig and Daveed led you to where Rafael, Anthony, and Jasmine were standing. Daveed planted you on the stool and looked you in the eyes.

“Stay here.”

“OK?” You looked around to see everyone smiling at you. Rafa winked as Daveed approached a mic stand. You got a feeling of dread in your stomach.

Oh no-

Daveed looked at you as the crew gathered around.

“Hey everybody. This is Lindy.” He held his hand out to you. “And it’s Lindy’s birthday today. And I bet she thinks we’re about to embarrass her and have you sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to her.” He looked over to you. “But she’d be wrong.”

You breathed a sigh of relief.

“We were wondering what to give the woman who has everything.”

You called out to him. “Are you included in ‘everything?’”

“You are correct, madam.” Daveed smirked in response. You shook your head as everyone laughed.

“But we decided to use what we have and that is talent. And we picked a song to perform that her cousin Craig said was a family favorite and is really really true for all of us, especially me.

We’re going to perform a song that lets you know that you got new family members for life.”

Rafa cued the DJ to start the track. As you heard the opening cords, you brought your hands to your mouth, emotional.

Jasmine was first up.

As around the sun the earth knows she's revolving/ And the rosebuds know to bloom in early May/ just as hate knows loves the cure/ You can rest your mind assured/ That I'll be loving you always/ As now can't reveal the mystery of tomorrow/ But in passing will grow older every day/ Just as all is born is new/ Do know what I say is true/That I'll be loving you always

Jasmine came over and gave you a hug as she sung the last line.

Everyone started dancing this choreographed routine of 70’s dance moves, the hustle, the hand jive, and the bump during the refrain as they sang. Even Craig joined in the chorus.

Anthony sang next.

Did you know that true love asks for nothing./ Her acceptance is the way we pay Did you know that life has given love a guarantee/ To last through forever and another day/ Just as time knew to move on since the beginning/ And the seasons know exactly when to change/ Just as kindness knows no shame/ Know through all your joy and pain/ That I'll be loving you always

Ant handed Rafael the mic next.

As today I know I'm living but tomorrow/ Could make me the past but that I mustn't fear/ For I'll know deep in my mind/ The love of me I've left behind/ Cause I'll be loving you always

More dancing, and you had to get up out of your seat.

Daveed had the bridge:

We all know sometimes life's hates and troubles/ Can make you wish you were born in another time and space/ …...And maybe our children's grandchildren/ And their great-great grandchildren will tell/ I'll be loving you

Everyone in the club joined in the chorus by the end, including you. It went on and on and was the best time you’d had on your birthday in a long time.

You ended up in Daveed’s arms with everyone dancing around you. It was big love and it was perfect.

You danced and drank shots until you were exhausted and wasted. You and everybody sang all the way back to the beach house, and Daveed had to practically carry you in when you arrived.

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

“THAT WAS THE BEST BIRTHDAY OF ALLL TIMEEEEEE!” You looked around the great room of the beach house and saw everyone staring at you.

“YOU’RE SO LOUD! BE QUIET! SHHHHHHH!”

“That’s you. You’re yelling Lindy.” Daveed was cracking up at you.

Jasmine and Anthony laughed at you on the way to the master suite.

“G’night mom and dad!” You waved at them as they retired for the night.

“Are you going to flog me, General?”

You heard Jasmine say, “Oh my god, she’s wasted,” as she and Anthony went in their room. Anthony replied. “Oh, fo sho.”

Daveed chuckled and shook his head as he led you into your room.

“General, hunh? No, I’m not going to flog you. I’m gonna put your ass to bed.”

You sat down on the bed and looked up at him adoringly.

“You know, I went with ‘he who must not be named’ to see Hamilton in 2015. When I saw you in that uniformmmmmmmmmm….”

You shook your head and closed your eyes, remembering. ”I had a flash of a thought to run up on stage and suck your soul out.”

Daveed smiled his shy smile again, embarrassed.

“I’m sorry, I’m fangirling right now. But sign my tits.” You tried to pull the collar of your dress down, and when it wouldn’t stretch, you started fighting with it, trying to get it off.

“Easy, easy.” Daveed was highly amused. He helped you to stand up so you could get out of your clothes.

He looked down and stroked your cleavage. “I already marked them up good. And when those fade I’m coming back for more.”

He leaned down and kissed the tops of each breast and then stopped himself to help you out of the dress. Now was not the time to start something.

“Oh shit, Daveed.” You squirmed. “You got me wet. Damn, boy. You keep me wet.”

You started singing WAP as you twerked in front of him. Daveed was enjoying seeing the carefree side of you. You could be so free and he was glad that tonight got you there.

You flopped back down on the bed. “Damn, I would let you fuck me in that uniform tho. A dream. And that sword? The hilt of that mutha fucking sword. Fuck. Do you still have it? I mean...”

You opened your legs and ran your hands up your thighs.

Daveed grabbed them and pulled you back up so that he could slip your dress off. You were out of your mind, but you still got him there.

He’d have to see what he could do about that costume when you were sober. He wanted to fulfill your every fantasy, and he hoped that you would let him.

When you came out from under your dress you looked about to cry. He frowned a bit.

“What happened?” When you looked up at him with your drunk, teary eyes, he remembered. Tequila.

“I don’t deserve you. You’re so fucking sweet. And nerdy, and cute, and so fucking talented. I mean you’re such a great actor, and writer, and rapper, and you can rap so fast, I mean damn that tongue.”

You opened your eyes wide. “Is that why you’re so good at head?” You covered your mouth at the realization and started crying harder. “I don’t deserve you!” Daveed helped you as you cried, and he tried to get you in the bed.

“Yes, you do Lindy. We all deserve love. Now calm down. It’s ok. We can talk about it in the morning.”

You stopped and stood still, adamant, naked for Daveed to take in and save for later. “You wanna know a secret?” You looked around the room to see if anyone was listening, even though you were alone with Daveed. “I forgot what I was talking about.”

Daveed laughed and went into the bathroom to get one of your makeup wipes. When he handed it to you is when you started crying again.

“No one ever wanted me to take off my makeup before...no one cared about my skin… and no one sang to me in Puerto Rico...”

You were still crying as you wiped the tears and makeup away. “Tell me why you love me in the morning.”

“I will. Lay down and I’ll get you some water.” Daveed got you under the covers and tucked you in.

“It’s gonna be hard when we get back to New York, cause I’m a bitch in New York. In Isabella I’m a queen…”

“Yes you are. You’re MY queen. Anywhere you go. You’re not gonna get rid of me in New York. Now try to center yourself and calm down okay?” You smiled weakly up at him and nodded, holding your arms out to him.

Daveed hugged you, kissed your forehead and then went to the kitchen to get some bottles of water. Rafa was in there, eating cereal and on his phone.

“Ya girl is wasted.”

“Yeah, she’s gone, man gone.” Daveed smiled. “Thanks for tonight, man. The arrangement was tight.”

“No problem at all. We all really love Lindy. She’s special, man.”

Daveed smiled as he gathered about four bottles of water and set them on the counter. He had a faraway look. Rafa could read him like a book.

“Oh shit, Diggs.”

Daveed looked at him.

“Yeah, this is it.” He’d made a decision.

“Happy for you, man.”

Daveed gave Rafa a smile and elbow dap as he went back to your room.

You were singing “As” and smiling when he returned. “I’m tore up. Sorry.”

Daveed blinded you with his smile. “No worries, Baby Girl. Here, drink this. It will go better when you wake up if you do.”

You returned his smile and drank the entire bottle of water. It helped clear your head a bit and the exhaustion got to you. Your eyes were drawn to him like a magnet as he headed toward the shower and took off his shirt. Damn, why did his back get you hot?

“I’ll be waiting for you when you get out.”

Daveed smiled back at you. “Get some rest Lindy. I know we’re leaving Isabela tomorrow, but we have time to spend together beyond that. I’m not going anywhere, Baby Girl.”

You smiled and nodded, hazily realizing something and resolving to stay up before you knocked out into a deep sleep.

-----

Daveed had stayed up a little while longer than you and wrote some things, editing a verse for a track that he and Rafael were producing and also adding to his Linden notes. Then, he took you into his arms and fell asleep.

He wondered how he would do it without you in New York, or how he would go back to the West Coast without you. He was thinking about the same things you were, but he was more confident that you two would find a way.

The Monday morning sun greeted him and he rolled over to see that it was 10 am. The flight back to New York left at 3 pm. Just a couple of hours before everyone needed to head to the airport.

You were still knocked out, snoring a little, but so adorably. He kissed your forehead and got out of bed with a bottle of water, padding to his room.

He marveled at the fact that he’d spent very little time there this weekend. It was basically a glorified closet and he was glad for it.

He was grateful to Jasmine and Anthony who offered to plan this weekend for you. They knew that you and he together on a tropical island would do the trick.

He shook his head that it actually worked as he put on his running shoes and shorts and packing up a little before he went running.

Daveed sent you a text before he got started, then headed west on the beach and did a lot of thinking, planning how to soothe the fears that you’d expressed last night.

----

You woke up 20 minutes after Daveed left with only a slight headache and fuzzy memories of the night before. You instantly missed Daveed and grabbed your phone.

Good morning my Queen. Going running. Be back soon. Love you.

You smiled like a schoolgirl at your phone, and your heart immediately lifted. You lay back on your pillow and thought of how lucky you were.

Then, memories of your drunken ramblings came back and you buried your head under your pillow.

You hopped in the shower and tried to forget what you’d said, hoping that Daveed did too. It was the first time in a minute you gotten to shower alone, so you took your time.

When you came out in your towel, your hair wet and conditioned, you met Daveed who was trying to sneak back in and see you wake up.

Seeing you all wet and sexy in just a towel did something to Daveed. You were surprised, your mouth in that sexy o shape, just like in the fitting room of H & M.

“Hey.” Daveed smiled at you.

“Hey yourself.”

You smiled back and shifted your weight as water droplets tumbled down your shoulders into the valley between your breasts. Daveed couldn’t help but stare. “How was your run?”

“Damn.” Daveed realized too late that you had asked him a question. “I mean…” he chuckled. “It was good.” He noticed you eying him and realized that he was all sweaty.

‘Damn’ is right you thought, the sweat was running down Daveed’s torso like the water from your shower. He smelled like his cologne mixed with the sea air and more musk. You needed that. Right now.

“I’m all sweaty, can I borrow your shower?”

You walked nearer to him, stopping behind him him in front of the bed. “No.”

Daveed turned his head to question you. “No? You mean I can’t borrow your shower? You want me to go back to my…”

“No.” You traced your finger in the sweat on his lat muscle and then put it in your mouth.

“I don’t want you to use my shower, and I don’t want you to go back to yours. At least not right now.”

Daveed turned around and faced you and when he did, you dropped your towel on the bed. His eyes went where you wanted them to.

“I want to lick the sweat off your abs, your dick and your balls before you do that.”

“Holy shit, Lindy.” Daveed groaned, grabbed you by the throat and pulled you in for a kiss. “You’re so fucking nasty.” He kissed you as his cock swelled. “I love it. I love you.”

You sat on the bed and pulled him toward you, getting started on your mission. You put your tongue in the happy trail of black hair below his navel, flat and wide, and licked a long stripe up and around his belly button.

The tangy essence of his perspiration contained some kind of aphrodisiac, because you went crazy and would have licked him clean if he hadn’t stopped you to take off his running shorts and shoes.

You watched his dick, thick from desire, spring free and slap his stomach. You immediately grabbed for it and Daveed stepped out of your reach. You looked up at him, and he returned your gaze.

Unspoken communication flowed that this was going to be as equals. You grabbed for it again and he stepped closer, allowing you to palm him as you licked and sucked his sack.

He leaned his head back in ecstasy as you took care of the boys and jacked him off. Then he looked down at you and you kept eye contact as you licked the tip of his dick, circled it with your tongue and then opened your mouth and deep throated it like a champ.

“Fuuuuuuucckkkkk, Lindy.” Daveed reached for your breasts and squeezed them, pinching and rolling your nipples. You arched your back, and your ass looked amazing on the bed. Daveed needed to hit that.

He pulsed at the thought of breaking your back and realized that he was buried deep in your throat at the moment. His eyes came back to yours, which were watering with the effort to breathe around him.

He didn’t hold you there, but you kept your nose nestled in the wiry hairs at the base of his cock. Damn. He wanted to be both places at once.

He brought his hand up to your wet hair, gently massaging your scalp as you did what you wanted with him. He had the irrational desire to tattoo your name on it, because nothing would ever compare to you.

You came off of him, sputtering and gasping for breath, a proud smile on your face. Daveed smiled down at you and wiped your mouth with his hand as you smiled back up at him. He leaned down and gave you a filthy kiss.

“I want you to pound me from behind.” Your voice was a sexy whisper, making tingles go up his spine.

“Just what I was thinking. We’re made for each other, Lindy.” He kissed you again.

You quickly pulled away and got on the bed on all fours, ass presented to Daveed. He just stood there admiring you as he stroked himself for a minute.

He was trying to meditate, pray, something, because what you’d already done to him and just looking at you was going to make him bust.

You looked back at him, and bit your lip, watching him. Then, you brought your hand up to your mouth, licked your fingers, and brought it down to start steady, tight circles on your clit, arching your back and giving him a good view of exactly what was happening.

“Shit.”

Daveed grabbed your hip and lined up with your cunt, feeling with his tip that you were fluttering around nothing but that. He whined in the back of this throat as he made himself sink into you slowly, your pussy grabbing him with each millimeter. He bottomed out. You were stretched out wonderfully.

“You good? How’s that feel?”

You could only whine. “So good. So, so, so good Daveed. Please.” You were begging, his dick was pulsing. “Please, please, please Daddy.”

Daveed groaned again. “Fuck, yeah. You want it?”

“Yeah!”

He started moving. He thought he was going to pass out it felt so good.

“This shit feels so good, Linden. You need it?”

“Fuck, yeah, Daddy. Oh!” Your arms had collapsed, and your cheek was getting pounded into the mattress as Daveed pistoned into you harder and harder. “Thank you thank you thank you.”

You were so fucking sweet that Daveed was about to paint your insides with his children. But he stopped, causing both of you to curse and pant into the silence.

The throbbing of his dick and the clenching of your pussy pushed him over the edge, making him lose control and start pumping again.

You knew he was trying to hold out and the thought that he couldn’t triggered your orgasm and you came, tears coursing out of your shut eyes as you moaned.

Daveed felt you cum with relief, because he was able to make sure you got yours; watching you cum was magnificent. But now it was his turn

“Where do you want it Linden?”

“On my ass Daddy.” You smiled back at him with glazed over eyes, still lost in sex land.

“Fuck!” He pulled out and fisted his cock, spurting all over your beautiful cheeks as he reached around for your sensitive clit.

He relentlessly held you fast with his arm as you tried to run from the second orgasm that was triggered by his fingers and the feel of his cum dripping down your folds.

“Shit, Daveed!” He chuckled evilly as you came apart again, leaning down to put his drenched fingers in your mouth. You made eye contact with him as you sucked his cum off them, and he was almost hard again. Damn.

He collapsed on his back and watched as you lay on your stomach and closed your eyes.

“Looks like we both need a shower now…”

You opened your eyes, and his heart clenched. You were so pretty. So purely Linden.

“Damn, I Love you girl.”

“I love you too, Daveed.” You bit your lip at the emotion. “We probably need to shower separately because….. we'll miss our flight.” He knew what you meant.

Daveed frowned. “You’re not wrong, but we can save time and water if we shower together. I promise I won’t try anything but get squeaky clean.” He was not trying to have this togetherness end so soon.

You couldn’t help but smile. You were doomed. You sighed, gave him a peck and made your way to the shower, him hot on your heels.

----

You boarded the flight back to NYC the same way you boarded the 3 and a half hour flight to PR, with you and Daveed running to the gate to board just in time.

You settled into first class, this time eagerly snuggling up to him in the blanket from jump. You were whispering and giggling together. Daveed looked at you and knew what you were thinking.

“Before you say it, let’s wait and join the mile-high club for when we’re not with our friends.” You peeked through the divide in your seats to find Craig and Rafael behind you. Craig stuck his tongue out at you.

“Yeah, you right. I don’t wanna hear it from this crew.”

You cuddled happily, on your phones and taking selfies, posting them separately to IG. Even though you didn’t post the pics of you two together, the fact that Rafael photobombed both of the ones you posted gave the connection away.

When you deboarded at JFK about 8 o’clock, you and Daveed brought up the rear of the group, not walking slowly, not wanting the weekend to end. By the time you got to baggage claim, Rafa and Jas and Ant were walking out to the cars that were waiting for them.

“See you later guys! Thank you again for everything.” You hugged the Martinez coupled as they went back to Brooklyn.

“Catch you tomorrow Cash.” Daveed gave Rafael dap and you gave him a hug as he departed.

Craig was at the baggage carousel, just waiting to order the uber for you and he to go back to his place. You were very quiet, lost in your thoughts.

“.....Rafa and I have a late lunch meeting at 1 tomorrow and then rehearsals start Wednesday through Friday at the new venue. Then we have the weekend off and shows start up again next Tuesday. What does your week look like Lindy?” Daveed wasn’t going to let you slip away from him, physically or mentally.

“Well, I have this Bar exam study session tomorrow afternoon, and I really need to cram for the exam next month. And… oh shit, I have this event for the law firm I’m clerking at in the fall on Saturday. It’s sort of like an introductory mandatory thing. Black tie.”

Daveed looked at you. “So, I guess you already have a date for that.”

You snapped out of your funk and caught the tone. “Yeah, I do.” You fought a smile and Craig started shaking his head as he looked at his phone.

“Oh.” Daveed rocked on his heels and watched for his bag on the carousel.

You tapped his arm and smiled at him, nodding your head toward your cousin. “It’s him.”

Daveed made eye contact with Craig who laughed at him.

“Sounds dope.” He was very relieved.

“Well, about that Lindy…..” Craig had some news. “Brian is coming to visit next weekend. Imma fly my baby out!” He took in your shocked face. “What?”

“Nothing. You grown. And you’re ditching me. That’s always cool.”

Craig shrugged. “What you won’t do for love.”

Daveed agreed. “So it sounds like you need a date.”

You turned back towards him, a smile on your lips.

“Yeah, sounds like it. You think Rafael is free?”

Daveed bent his head and shook it. “What time do I need to pick you up, Linden.”

You perked up at the dom voice, and replied immediately. “8 pm.”

“Done.”

“Perfect, and pack a bag, you can stay with Daveed so Brian and I can have the place to ourselves.”

“What makes you think that I want to stay with him, or if he even wants that? You can’t just…”

Daveed interrupted you. “You’re welcome anytime, Baby Girl.”

You shivered. “Okay…” you almost said, ‘Daddy,’ but you didn’t. Not in front of Craig.

“It’s settled then.” Craig grabbed his bag and you reached for yours, but Daveed grabbed it before you could take it.

You walked out to where you and Craig’s uber waited and the car the Daveed had ordered waited. Daveed loaded your suitcase after Craig put his in the trunk and got in, giving you two some privacy.

“Text me when you get home. I’ll call you later, maybe facetime.” Daveed felt something crazy in his chest at the thought of leaving you.

You nodded and tried to smile up at him, tears pricking your eyes. “I will. I might text you in the uber?” You didn’t want to be away from him yet.

“Yeah, yeah. Do that. I’ll see you in four days.”

“Just four.” You searched his eyes. “Ugh! I love you Daveed.”

“I love you too, Lindy.” You reached up for a kiss and he picked you up to meet him. He put you down and you swallowed the lump in your throat.

“Bye.”

“Bye.” You waved as he walked toward the black SUV. You opened the door and then you saw him look back at you, eyes in full puppy dog mode.

You got in the uber, and Daveed got his bag situated and entered the back of the car. He looked back and saw your uber pull out, his driver waiting for it to pass. Then, he heard a knock on the other window.

The window rolled down and Daveed peered out at you, smiling.

“Did you mean it when you said I was welcome anytime?” Your smile was irresistible.

“Get that ass in this car, Baby Girl.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

--------

Will Lindy and Daveed ever be able to be apart? Is this a healthy relationship or are they going to fast? Let me know. Please like, comment, and reblog!

Tagging:

@braidedchallah @einfachniemand @sillyteecup @ohsoverykeri @theselilwonders @theatrenerd86 @sebastianabucknettastan @riiyy @lonelydance @biafbunny @summerofsnowflakes @delaber @honeysucklechocolatedrippin @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs @janthonystan @elocinnicole @anh1020 @curtainremote

#Daveed Diggs #daveed diggs fanfiction #daveed diggs x reader #daveed fic #daveed imagine #daveed diggs x black reader #daveed diggs x oc #daveed diggs imagine #daveed diggs x ofc reader #daveed diggs fluff #daveed diggs smut #daveed x Linden #daveed x lindy #daveed x you #hamilfam #Rafael Casal #jasmine cephas jones #Anthony Ramos #bay boys

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peaches-writes · 4 years ago

Text

tumbles and turns

description: a month in the life of you and your college roommate, minho—except you’re from rival universities preparing for an intercollegiate cheerdance competition member: minho / lee know genre: fluff, sports au (off-season universe), college au, roommates au, slice of life, friends to lovers au word count: 7.9k warning: explicit language, mentions of food, injuries, & harassment; a very jealous and protective minho notes: ah yes another sports au about a sport i’m not well-versed in that ended up not making sense + anw whatever danceracha pep squad agenda 💅

week 1 of 4

Minho finally releases the laugh he’s been holding for the past ten minutes, shaking his head in disbelief before hopping off of the edge of the sink where he’s been quietly judging you. “Seriously,” He smirks teasingly, expertly dodging your disapproving frown and your attempt at smacking his arm as he stands between you and the mirror then takes the comb from your hands. “You look fine—kind of wonky, actually, but you’ll live.”

“Ya!” You huff with a light stomp of your foot on the bathroom tiles, reaching up for the blue comb to no avail for he immediately lifts it high above his head. “Give me the comb!”

“Why don’t you dry your hair first before worrying about how you look?” He suggests with another laugh, leaning back on the sink when you start jumping over him for the comb. “It looks weirder when you try combing it down while it’s still wet.”

You groan when he starts taunting you by waving the comb in his hands, eventually giving up to stand back and cross your arms in annoyance. “I’m so—I just feel so iffy about this haircut, that’s all!”

“Well, that’s pep squad for you—but you already know that.” He shrugs, finally putting the comb down behind him in exchange for the orange towel you abandoned a while back to obsessively comb down your bangs. “Anyway, the bangs are the least of your worries. Aren’t you guys dyeing your hair on Friday?”

“Yeah,” You sigh in frustration, lifting a hand up to rub your temple. “Our costumes department is insane, I’m telling you.”

“Try our costumes department.” Minho retorts, throwing the towel over your damp hair after. “Though we’re doing a Michael Jackson-inspired routine, the costumes still need to have our school colors. Imagine all the black and gold and the make-up we’ll have to do for one part—“

You manage to crack a smile at this as you now busy yourself with drying your hair, making Minho chuckle in front of you as well. “Ah, right. Isn’t Felix volunteering for your costumes this year, though? Why don’t you approach him if you’re so bothered?”

“Then you’ll have to see Jeongin for your hair.” He points out.

“Jeongin? Right, nevermind, then. The kid’s scary when he’s in his element.” You huff, your hand on your temple then going up to your bangs. “I’ll just have to live with this for the next 1.5 years at most, I guess.”

“Then that’s settled.” Minho shrugs for the second time, tsking after once he notices your slow pace. Taking a step forward, you then catch a glimpse of Minho picking up your hair dryer from the other side of the sink counter from the corner of your eye before plugging it on the nearest wall socket. “You’re so slow! We’re watching a movie, remember? I don’t want water dripping on the couch.”

Swiftly, you elbow his stomach when he moves to your side. “Well, I’ll have to let you know that hair doesn’t dry that quickly when you’ve bleached it twice.”

“You could’ve been a little quicker about it if you weren’t so focused on your bangs.” He scolds, carding his fingers through your hair before pointing the noisy hairdryer on you and starting with your newly-cut bangs. “What even is the reason behind the red hair, anyway?”

“It’s our school colors, dumbass.” You remind him with a scoff, removing the towel on top of your head and moving it to the opposite side of where Minho is currently working. “Naeun actually managed to find a supplier with the exact same shade of red our school uses, it’s kind of cool.”

“Not like anyone would recognize it on compet.” Minho pouts. “Green would’ve been funnier. Isn’t that your other school color?”

“Excuse you, we have one of the biggest crowds every year? Plus, green would look too wacky. It could be distracting with our theme.”

“As if people from your school go around recognizing that specific shade of red.”

“I’m going to fucking hit you with this towel.” You glower, only making him laugh as he nonchalantly guides you by your shoulders to move closer to the hairdryer’s socket. “Let’s just see who’s going to be laughing when I see you in costume on compet.”

“Please, I’ll rock the outfit so much you’ll forget you even said that.” Your roommate rolls his eyes, turning you around so he can work on the back of your head. “What will you be wearing, by the way?”

Minho steals a glance at you from the mirror, raising his eyebrows slightly, and you answer, “Still the same but in black and a new design.”

“So...top and tights?” He asks and you nod eagerly, your hair almost slipping right through his fingertips.

“You’ll love the designs.” You muse, picking up the blue comb once again to use on the dried parts of your head. ”Naeun designed them really well!”

“A bit of a basic choice for your second to last college competition, don’t you think?” He teases, making you reach up behind you to smack his arm. “Didn’t you guys do the same thing but in navy last year?”

“Call it basic again when I take it home, I dare you.” You retort before chuckling along with him. “Are you done?”

“Almost there.” He answers automatically, slowly inching along to your other side while gently moving you closer to the wall socket and turning you around to face the opposite wall by your shoulders. “Your hair’s so hard to dry.”

“I didn’t even ask for your help.” You point out. “You just barged in here to clown my bangs.”

“Yeah, then I realized that that’s what’s taking you so long that we can’t watch our Sunday movie.” Minho huffs, finally reaching your other side to dry the last strands of your hair. “I’m being a good Samaritan for once, you should at least say thank you.”

You giggle, nodding teasingly. “Right, right. Thank you, Minhooo!” You tease, knowing very well in your almost 5 years of living with him how rare these moments indeed are. “So...done?”

After a long pause, Minho turns the hairdryer off and takes out the plug from the wall socket behind you before taking a step back away from you. “Yup, done.” He affirms, running his index finger through your bangs horizontally once with a giggle. “Your bangs are so funny.”

You frown at him, smacking his arm for the third time tonight before turning around to tidy up everything you’ve used. “I hate you.”

But your roommate only pats your head in response before taking another step back and heading to the bathroom door. “I’ll set up the movie now!” He says as he walks away, glancing back at you with a smile before crossing the other side of the open door. “Hurry up, okay?!”

“Take the hoodie down! Take the hoodie down!” Jisung and Minho mischievously chant by your shoe racks at the entrance once you arrive home from training at the end of the week. The two hold Soonie and Doongie respectively in front of them for emphasis, lifting the cats up and down as if they were holding banners to a sports game. “Take the hoodie down! Take the hoodie down!”

You only roll your eyes at the two as you discard your shoes properly next to them, patting Soonie and Doongie’s heads affectionately then smacking the side of Minho’s head. “Move out of the way, losers.” You command instead with a wave of your hand and a tired giggle, the two laughing along and obligingly stepping aside for you to hang your gym bag up on the metal hooks right behind them. “And Jisung, why are you still here? It’s 9 PM.”

“We’re finishing our game tonight and I wanted to see your new hair!” He answers in his defense, putting Soonie down when Minho does with Doongie. “Now, take the hoodie down! Take the hoodie down!”

Taking out your plastic bag of used clothes and empty tumbler out of your gym bag after, you sigh in defeat and remove your hoodie. “Fine, fine, fine, there.”

Your roommate and his best friend both erupt in whistles and cheers at your bright red hair in response.

“Oh damn!” Jisung exclaims more dramatically and pats your shoulders in approval, ruffling your hair after. By your socked feet, Soonie meows enthusiastically as he tries climbing up your leg. “Look, even Soonie likes it!”

A small step behind the younger boy, you see your roommate with a much cooler reaction, smirking at you and mouthing, “Pretty,” with a wink before vocally adding, “It’s not so bad,” when Jisung then turns to him and asks him what he thinks. “Y/N’s had far worse hairstyles before.”

“I’m going to shove my clothes down your throat.” You threaten him with a chuckle, holding your bundle of used clothes higher as if you were going to throw it towards him. “Anyway, you’ve seen my hair now so let me through, I still have to sort these out and wash up.”

"You have dinner on the table, too, so eat before you go to bed.” Minho adds, pointing to the open doorway down the hall leading to your kitchen.

“Did you cook?”

“Take-out.” Minho answers plainly before gesturing for the three of you to move to the living room. You and Jisung follow him down the hallway. “Pizza and wings.”

Meanwhile, Jisung pouts at you as he links his arms with yours. “Ya, Y/N, you’re not going to watch our stream?”

“Maybe some other time.” You frown, your tiredness slowly coming back now that your friends have naturally stopped joking around. “I’m really sleepy.”

“Practice was that harsh?” Jisung asks next, stopping you right in the middle of the living room before you could proceed further to the left of the hallway to your room. Minho, on the other hand, walks ahead of you and proceeds to plop down on the sofa to set up their game once again. “Jeongin told me you’re changing the choreography a bit.”

“Seungkwan injured his foot really bad so we’re adjusting for alternatives in case he doesn’t recover in time.” You nod sadly, scratching your head in frustration. “And he’s my one of my bases for most stunts, including the exhibition, so I’m making the most adjustments.”

“Oh,” Jisung muses in realization, pausing a bit before another smile graces his features as he then lifts your hoodie back up to your head. “we should play quietly, then, right Minho?”

Minho only nods at this without even sparing a glance back at you.

“Yup, we’ll try to be quiet!” Jisung promises again, his grin growing bigger. “Sleep well, then, Y/N!”

“Hm, thanks, goodnight to you, I guess.” You greet him back, looking over his shoulder to see Minho glancing back up at you. “Goodnight Minho.”

Your roommate sweetly waves goodnight to you before turning mischievous by snickering and pointing at your red hair again. You roll your eyes and quietly threaten him with your clothes again in response before bidding him and Jisung another goodnight, proceeding to your room after.

Surprisingly, the two rowdy boys kept to their word after you’ve finished dinner and mostly whispered yelled through the walls of the living room for the rest of the night, mostly Minho scolding Jisung for cursing at their game and reminding him to quiet down for you.

week 2 of 4

You come home from Thursday practice two hours later than usual and completely drained, trudging down the entrance hallway of your shared apartment to the rustling of your used clothes and the obnoxious empty noises of your tumbler that quickly alerts Minho and his three cats of your presence. Excitedly greeting you from the kitchen area, Minho looks up at you from feeding Soonie, Doongie, and Dori under your dining table and waves at you, his smile immediately faltering into a confused one when he sees your frown. “Hey. Are you okay? Why are you late?” He points out with a nervous chuckle. “You could’ve just called me to pick you up.”

You don’t answer, opting instead to tiredly settle on the seat nearest to his side and resting your arms and head down on the table, missing the dinner set Minho prepared for you by a hair as you do so. “I missed the first bus home because I was distracted from being so pissed off at this newbie being a creep during practice.” You scoff as nonchalantly as you can. “It’s okay now, tho—”

“What?!” Before you could even finish your sentence, however, Minho surprisingly leaves his cats’ side, moving over to sit next to you to the side where your head is limply tilted. “Who’s this guy? What did they do?”

You shift uncomfortably in your seat at the sudden rise in Minho’s tone and then see him instinctively scooting away in response, an attempt to give you space in case you’re uncomfortable. “Do you remember Park Joon? The guy I’ve told you before who’s been hitting on me and some of my teammates since he got in the team?” You start off after and you see your roommate following you along again, this time propping an elbow up on the table and nodding along. You also see him open his mouth to speak before closing it again, gesturing for you to continue. “Coach picked him to be Seungkwan’s replacement for the stunts and we practiced our choreography for exhibition today after team practice.

“It was fine, at first, he adjusted quickly to filling in for Seungkwan and all—until in one of our final stunts, he started groping me inappropriately that my other teammates had to stop immediately once they noticed and told our coach about it.”

"What?! What the fuck?!” Minho reacts with furrowed eyebrows and a scowl on his face. Sitting up properly now, he then worriedly asks, “W-What did—what did Coach Im do?”

You sigh, lifting up your head up after as you tiredly prop your own elbow up to mirror him. “Coach was furious that she immediately had him kicked out of practice without even hearing his side.“ You answer shakily, carding your fingers through your hair. “She also said that she’ll report him to admin after so we won’t be hearing about the guy until graduation...”

In front of you, Minho releases a breath you didn’t even notice he’s been holding as you speak, cautiously moving his chair towards you again and patting your back comfortingly. “That’s...fuck, I’m sorry you had to go through that...I’m glad Coach Im kicked him out after. Fuck...” He mirrors your frown, albeit sadder than your frustrated one. “Are you—I mean, do you want me to get you something? Do you need anything? I—”

“I’m fine, Minho, just annoyed now that we have to adjust everything again.” You huff, your voice shaking just slightly that Minho almost misses it.

“The choreography’s the least of your worries now, that fucking creep just harassed you.” Minho points out softly and cautiously, meeting your eyes before hesitantly stroking your hair. “I swear, if I was there, I would’ve—”

You shake your head immediately, cutting him off with what you could muster up as an assuring smile. “Seriously...it’s fine. I’m fine—still a bit shaken but I’m kind of comforted that he got kicked out for it and that Jeongin and the others stood up for me.” You add with more conviction now because of Minho’s words. “Please don’t do anything stupid about this for me. I’m so over it right now, trust me.”

“Really? You promise?” He asks you to which you nod back in response. “Well, if you say so but—do you need anything else right now or later? I can commute with you again if you want me to or something...”

You shake your head at his last offer. “No, no, that’s really too much of a hassle for you. It’s fine. To be honest, I just want to sleep and not think about it anymore right now.” You pout after, scooting your chair closer to the meal you’ve accidentally forgotten throughout this whole conversation. “Thank you for listening and worrying, though, Minho. I really appreciate it.”

Your roommate opens his mouth again to retort but is suddenly interrupted by Dori brushing up against your legs and purring at you. “What’s that Dori?” Your roommate asks the cat in his usual pouting tone instead, lifting the cat up and placing it on his lap. Dori, however, only fixes his gaze on you and purrs again. “Hm? You want to go to Y/N and make them feel better? Okay, okay.”

He then carefully sets the cat on your lap, standing up after to affectionately stroke your hair again. “If that’s all then eat first before you wash up and go to bed.” He then returns to his original thought before going back to the other two cats. “And do tell me if you need anything, okay?”

“I will.” You muster up another smile to which Minho returns with a smile of his own. “Thanks again, Minho.”

He only hums, briefly leaning forward as if to encase you in a hug before hesitating last minute and turning his attention back to his cats. “Eat your food.”

The next day, Minho surprises you by waking up earlier and following you all the way to the bus stop with his own gym bag and backpack.

“It’s Friday.” You point out as your bus approaches.

He nods nonchalantly, turning to you with a smile. “Yeah, I can tell. The cafe across the street’s selling mint frappe until 10 AM.”

“No, I mean,” You shake your head. “isn’t your first class at 2 PM today?”

“Yeah?” He answers in a tone that pretends to be oblivious of where you’re taking this conversation.

“Then why are you all dressed up with your things?” At this the bus approaches, opening right in front of you and Minho. Before you could even step in the public vehicle, Minho beats you to it and takes your hand in his, pulling you along.

“I’m meeting up with Jisung to study.” He answers belatedly to you as he swipes his bus card, stepping aside after for you to follow.

“Bullshit.” You mumble under your breath, mirroring his actions anyway and following him to the seats right behind the driver as the bus roars back to life. “You’re in different programs, Minho.”

“You could just say ‘thank you’ and get it over with“ He teases, nudging your shoulder with his before smoothly slinging an arm over you. “And I really am meeting up with Jisung today, just after his 10 AM. He’s taking a science elective this semester and he needs help with it.”

You tilt your head towards him, seeing his anticipating expression. With an amused chuckle, you give him a side hug instead, burying your face in the material of his black hoodie and catching him off-guard. “Thank you.”

He hugs you back with a laugh.

“I know what will make you feel better!” Your roommate announces as he barges in your room unannounced the following Saturday afternoon, plopping down at the foot of your bed as you work on your term papers on the other side. “Well, at least, Chan does since he was technically the one who suggested it.”

“I feel fine, though? What are you talking about?” You raise an eyebrow at him, stealing glances over to him as you continue working.

Minho comically rolls closer to you, propping an elbow up on the mattress to stop and showing you his phone displaying his chat history with Chan. “Are you sure? Like well enough that you won’t even be bothered that Chan got us tickets to see the Hyunjin’s final game next Sunday?” He wiggles his eyebrows teasingly, snickering when your eyes widen.

Immediately, your fingers stop typing away on your keyboard and you look up at him in purse shock. “What?!” You exclaim in disbelief, leaning closer to his phone screen and squinting your eyes at the chain of messages exchanged between your two friends. “Seriously? Didn’t this game get sold out weeks ago?”

“Yeah but, you know, Chan has his socializing ways.” Your roommate shrugs, taking his phone back to his side to clasp his hands together. “So? What do we think?”

“Um, yeah, of course, let’s go!” You answer matter-of-factly, taking his phone and typing in your reply for emphasis. “I mean, you are taking me, right? This isn’t a joke?”

“Only if I can take the other ticket.” He winks, lifting his upper body higher from the mattress to rest his chin on top of your laptop screen. “So, yes?”

You nod enthusiastically with a giggle, making Minho jump up into a sit in joy.

“Clear your schedule for next Sunday, Y/N! We’re watching the finals!”

week 3 of 4

Coach Im distributes your finished costumes on your first practice of the week after her final reminders and announcements and you make sure to contain your excitement as best as you can on your commute home until after you’ve finished dinner in order to open it with an equally excited Minho.

Eagerly, your roommate now peers over your shoulder on the sofa after having hurriedly washed the dishes, holding Dori up to his chest as he does so.

“See? It’s so pretty!” You exclaim once you’ve taken everything out of the plastic wrapping, holding up your black fitted cropped top, lined with a complex geometric pattern in colors inspired by the pride flag, for your roommate and all of his three cats to see. “It came out really well!”

Minho nods in approval at the black spandex while Dori unconsciously mirrors him when you turn to the two. “The printing didn’t fuck up Naeun’s design on the first print for once.” He muses, making you chuckle. “It looks cool.”

“They took it to a different printing shop this time.” You clarify, laying down the top right next to a sleeping Doongie on the nearby coffee table before taking out the bottoms. “This material’s really nice, too. I tried it on with everyone a while back and the stretch is really nice.”

“I take that as I’ll see this costume being used in the gym after, then?” Minho jokes, earning him a jab on the elbow when he puts Dori down after. “What? So, pajamas?”

“You didn’t have to call me out like that!” You protest, leaning back on the couch and placing a passing Soonie on your lap. “I really like this costume.”

“Because you say that with all of your costumes!” Minho retorts, hovering Dori over your costume when the cat starts purring and tilting its head towards it.

“I happen to love everything my friends design.” You correct, chuckling at Dori who’s now escaped Minho’s grasp to sniff and snuggle into your clothes. “Now, when is that black and red vest coming in again?”

“It came today too but I won’t show it to you.” Your roommate sticks his tongue out at you, earning him a string of protests from you. “You’ll just have to see on compet day!”

“What? No! Unfair!” You pout.

“You’ll just have to see next week!” He insists anyway, laughing at your furrowed eyebrows and scowl. “I don’t want you getting too distracted with me when you should be focusing on memorizing your choreography, you scatterbrain.”

“Ya! Ugh, you’re so full of yourself!”

You find his vest in the laundry the following day, anyways, when you needed to retrieve one of your shirts from your laundry area. You make sure to tease him about it with a photo of you holding up his vest after and sending it to him through private chat.

“Ah, so mean!” He replies.

“Let’s go Hwang Hyunjin, kick some ass!” You yell as loud as you can in your seat amidst all the cheers for your friend echoing around the arena. Next to you, Minho laughs through his drink at your enthusiasm, your initial awkwardness at sitting on his university’s side of the audience for this volleyball game clearly gone now as you wildly wave your green balloon. “Wooh, go Hyunjin!”

“God, what would our friends from your uni say when they see you cheering for our team?” He chuckles once you’ve calmed down, adjusting your white hat as you settle back comfortably in your seat once again.

You roll your eyes at him, picking your Cola up from your respective cup holder and taking a sip. “Shut up, it’s not like I’m alone here.” You retort after, pointing at Changbin who’s with Jisung at the other end of the row. “Even Yeji’s somewhere in the crowd, too, supporting her cousin.”

“Still, it’s not everyday you’re on this side.” He argues back, scrunching up his face again when you get momentarily distracted by Hyunjin scoring another point for his team. “Ah, you’re so hyped today! How come you never cheer like this for me?”

“Because we’re in the same sport, Minho.” You laugh this time, catching his fake pout from the corner of your eye. “Besides, I cheer for you, too, just in a different way—woah, did you see that?! Woah, as expected of Choi Bomin!”

Minho couldn’t say anything else to you after as you easily become occupied by the heated game again, cheering mostly for Hyunjin and occasionally Sanha who’s on the opposing team. He patiently waits for you to turn your attention back to him anyway, which only takes 3 points on his university and 4 points on Sanha’s. “Why? So, I can’t ask you to wear my school’s shirt and things like that if ever?” He asks cheekily once he’s gotten your attention again.

You scoff against the heat rising up your neck. “W-What? Why? Are you giving them to me as pajamas?”

He shakes his head, chuckling. “No, I mean, while on compet.” He clarifies before gesturing over to his shirt you borrowed from him today with another pout. “It’s just that you borrowed my shirt to cheer on Hyunjin today. Can’t you do that next week for me too?”

You glance back at him incredulously, making him chuckle nervously. “If I want Jeongin to chop my head off and Seungmin to call me a traitor until awarding, then I might.” You scoff playfully, deepening his pout and puppy eyes. “Don’t pull that look on me! Where is this even coming from all of a sudden?”

“I just thought about it.” He shrugs, warming your face even more. “Can’t you really do it? I’ll even wear your shirt if I have to.”

“Ah, just say you think I look cute in your shirt and go.” You roll your eyes jokingly, your seemingly nonchalant disposition slowly crumbling down in front of him anyway. “Minho, your secret crush on me is kind of showing, you might have to watch out for yourself on that, ha.”

“So? What about it?” He mumbles under his breath, catching you off-guard without him meaning to.

“What?” Your eyes widen curiously.

“What?” He repeats, mirroring your expression in feigned innocence before his eyes slowly flit back to the game. “Oh hey, we scored again!”

“Lee Minho!”

“What?!” He chuckles, avoiding your gaze now as you suddenly switch roles with him cheering loudly for his university. “Go Hwang Hyunjin!”

One of your university shirts doesn’t come back to you from the laundry after that.

week 4 of 4

On the Saturday night before the competition, you skip your traditional sleepaway camp and senior send-off with your team to have a sleepover in your apartment living room with your roommate, setting up sleeping bags on the floor next to Soonie, Doongie, and Dori’s beds and queueing up old competition videos on your television. Minho, on the other hand, re-heats all of the remaining leftovers in your refrigerator and buys extra side dishes and drinks from the convenience store on the first floor of your building for dinner.

“What should we watch first?” You ask once you’ve finished eating and washing the dishes, the TV’s remote on your right hand while the other massages Dori’s head as the grey cat circles your feet. “Hm, Dori? What video do you want to dance to first?”

Minho then re-emerges from the kitchen, stretching his limbs as he approaches you before snatching the remote and answering for Dori, “I have just the video in mind!”

“Ya!” You glare at him, reaching up to retrieve the remote again but, as he always does, Minho immediately raises the device above his head as he scrolls down the folder of videos on the TV. “If you’re thinking about that vid, I’m going to—“

But Minho only laughs at you, quickly scrolling down the videos anyway against your attempts of stopping him until he finds your very first cheer dance routine at the bottom of the folder. “Here, found it!” He chuckles in victory after a struggle, throwing the remote on the side and pulling you close to the first part of the paired dance that serves as the choreography’s intro. “Let’s dance!”

“Nooo!” You protest, turning your eyes away from the screen as you see yourself in your Freshman year, dancing to a Jungle-themed routine, while Minho only cackles in your misery, following the steps precisely as he spins and twirls you on time before letting go.

“No, you have to do it with me!” He insists as the choreography now forces him to part with you, his gaze alternating between you and the screen. “Come on, Y/N!”

You groan under his anticipating gaze, following him and the video along after a pause in utter defeat.

“Why are you so embarrassed about this routine? You looked cute here!” He points out as you now do the group jumps, easily finding you in the video since you’re often at the center. “Besides the teased hair and the amount of black eyeshadow on your make-up, of cour—“

“I tripped the most on this routine!” You remind him just as you do trip on the way to being lifted in the video. “See?”

“You were a 1st year then, that’s totally understandable.” He dismisses anyway with a wave of his hand, the two of you stopping to watch the first sequence of lifts. “You remember when I almost fucked up my solo on the same compet because I couldn’t remember the steps towards the end?”

“Yeah but you improvised—“

“And Coach Kim made sure to have me sit out the Nationals after.” Minho rolls his eyes. The two of you then go back to dancing, laughing along to the steps you find silly and scaring your three cats by pretending to lift your hands up as if preparing to do tumbles. “Point is, we’re much better cheer dancers now than before! Look, this routine’s even easier to follow now than when you were practicing this with me 4 years ago.”

“If you put it that way, then, I guess...” You muse out loud until another thought crosses your mind. “We should play that video of yours next, then! That was the exhibition, right?”

“Fine, fine.” He sighs teasingly. “but first let’s finish this! Ah, 6 minutes is so long when it’s so focused so much on dancing!”

You then spend the rest of the night dancing to your shared old competition videos until you eventually felt sleepy (and the old couple living right under your unit started banging on the floor, their ceiling, with an umbrella).

“Kids, whatever canoodling it is you’re doing, you need to stop, it’s 2 AM!” Mr. Lee yells from his window right below yours as you and Minho fall on your sleeping bags tiredly, making the two of you laugh.

“Who even uses the word ‘canoodling’ these days?” You scoff in between uncontrollable fits of giggles, rolling over to your stomach and lazily crawling over to your pillow. “And they think we’re doing something weird again! Mr. and Mrs. Lee are sweet and all but sometimes, their minds...”

Next to you, Minho clutches his stomach as he laughs. “Why?” He smirks playfully, sitting up and scooting over to his own sleeping bag. “They’re just being old people. Does it bother you that much? Do you actually want to do something weird with me?”

You scrunch your nose in disgust up at him hovering over you, pushing him away when he tries tickling your sides. “Ew, Minho! No, get away from me!”

A few hours later, you ended up having to deal with Minho sprawled all over your sleeping area and refusing to wake up at exactly 9 AM to prepare and head out of the apartment.

“Minho.” You call his name firmly, poking his arm draped over your waist. “Come on, you big baby, or the cats are gonna eat you for breakfast.”

“Nooo, 5 more minutes.” He whines tiredly, unconsciously snuggling up to your neck when Doongie and Soonie pass by his face, slapping their tails across his cheeks. “I’m so tired from last night.”

“I told you not to put on that video of yours from last season.” You scold, finally managing to lift his hand and kick his leg away from you. “Whatever, I’m feeding the cats. You get up and cook breakfast, okay?”

“In a bit.” He waves you off, rolling over to his stomach and grabbing the nearest cat, in his case Doongie.

Minho was right in that he really works his team’s outfit even when he’s not fully fond of it, you realize six hours later when you meet again at the competition’s venue and see him for the first time in his full gold top, black slacks, and shoes. He winks at you from across the room as you untie the knots of your purple, red, and yellow pom poms, gesturing to his outfit after and mouthing, “Like it?”

You wordlessly flash him a thumbs up in approval before showing him his shirt you’re wearing over your costume as he made you promise over breakfast, making him giggle over the hand fan he holds up to his face before focusing back on his conversation with Chan who’s filming an interview with him and the other captains of the participating teams as a courtside reporter.

Seungmin, preparing for his own pre-competition interview on the side, then takes the latter as his cue to sit next to you on the benches. “Minho scares me.”

“Minho always scares you.” You chuckle, elbowing his side and sparing him a quick glance before going back to your work. “What did you do this time, Minnie? Hit him with your cue cards?”

But your team’s persistent courtside reporter only shakes his head from the corner of your eye, glancing up ahead of you once again before repeating, “No, seriously, he was glaring at Eunwoo a while ago when you were talking to him and now he’s all smiley and winking at you now that you’re alone. It kind of scares me and I’m not the one being looked at.”

You whip your head over to the same direction, easily spotting Minho again whose eyes immediately soften up at your gaze gaze before smirking and winking again at you. Turning back to Seungmin after, you shrug and say, “He looks fine to me. He‘s always greasy in public by default.”

The younger boy only sighs in defeat, rubbing his temples as he replies, “I don’t know what’s going on in your home life but I’m saying this as a concerned friend and bystander: get a room.”

“What?!”

“Do everyone a favor, it’s getting annoying.” He points out, quickly glancing behind you once again before shuddering at Minho’s glare that’s now directed to the other boy he just mentioned. “And we all seriously feel bad for Eunwoo; guy was just asking you for eyeliner.”

“We’re not dating, Minnie, oh my God!” You smack his arm in disbelief, taking a quick scan around the room after to make sure that no one heard your blabbermouth of a friend. Lowering your voice, you then add, “But did he really? Glare at Eunwoo, I mean?”

“Plotted five different murder scenarios and everything.” Seungmin affirms. “Felix and Chan were texting me from across the room while it was all happening and they both said they could see smoke come out of Minho’s ears. Even Yeji was scared and she was just passing by to see Chaeryeong.”

“You guys are delusional.”

“We are tired of this dumb sexual tension.” He defends, gesturing to himself then to Chan and Hyunjin from afar then to Minho and, finally, to your shirt with Minho’s university logo on the print. “Anyway, I also heard from some of the other reporters that he made Jisung and Hyunjin hold something for him today when their team came in. What if it’s for you?”

You raise an eyebrow, shaking your head. “No? He didn’t bring anything weird to the bus stop this morning and I’m pretty sure he went straight to his uni after dropping me off at my stop.” You point out before exhaling another sigh and patting the younger boy’s shoulder. “You know what I think? I think looking after your significant other is taking a toll on you. Are you sure you don’t need anything? A break from courtside reporting maybe?”

Seungmin groans. “Ah, whatever. You two figure this out before someone actually gets an idea to shove you two into an actual room—especially Jisung and Hyunjin!” He concludes before noticing the sudden commotion to your left, eyes widening at realizing that the reporters are being called for their opening spiels now. “Oops, I gotta go, crowd check!”

“You better, you’re starting to talk weird!” You smack his elbow playfully, standing up when he does and bidding him goodbye. “Hype up our crowd and break a leg out there!”

“And you do well on the floor later!” He smiles back, waving goodbye at you before joining Chan and the other reporters to the exit leading to the main floor. “Don’t forget to drink water!”

“Will do, capt.!” And with that, Seungmin runs off to open the program, the empty space next to you quickly getting occupied by Minho after who points at your shirt cheekily.

“You look cute in my shirt.” He comments, adjusting the hat he wears similar to Michael Jackson’s. Fortunately, the lighting backstage is not as bright as the floor’s that his top only glimmers slightly in front of you as he moves.

“You just saw me wear this last Sunday.” You deadpan against another wave of heat rising up to your cheeks, your hands fiddling unconsciously with the hem of your shirt. “It was getting cold just wearing my costume.”

“What did Jeongin and Seungmin say?” He asks, gesturing his head over to the exit where Seungmin just passed through a while back.

“Jeongin just laughed and Seungmin said—ah, nevermind.” You shake your head towards the end, piquing Minho’s interest even further anyway.

“What? What?”

“Nothing! It was nothing.” You bluff with another shake of your head, pushing Minho away with your pom poms when he teases you by leaning his face closer to yours. “Anyway, when will you perform?”

“We’re coming out third for the team and I think our exhibition members are performing fourth. You?”

“First, actually—for the team, I mean.” You frown. “Then we’re last for exhibition.”

“We can watch each other then! I’ll cheer for you from the front seats, the boys have front row seats out there near your uni’s bleachers.”

“Don’t you need to stay back here and, I don’t know, do captain stuff?” You ask next.

“And miss out on your performance? No way! The kids can take care of themselves for 6 minutes.” He shrugs with a dismissive hand. “Why? Don’t you want me to cheer you on? I brought your shirt with me.”

“So you took my shirt!”

“You couldn’t possibly think the neighbors would.” He rolls his eyes playfully, slinging an arm over your shoulder and directing the two of you to the exit along with the others for the opening rites. “So will you come out and watch me too?”

“It’s not like I have another choice. I’m already wearing your shirt to a compet.” You reiterate, making him smile. “As long as you don’t take unflattering photos of me again.”

“Nope, I’ve learned my lesson already.” He grins mischievously, making you smack his arm. “I already have Hyunjin on that job—maybe Changbin too, he brought a tripod and everything to film today.”

“I’m kicking you out of the house when we get home.”

“Ooh, I’m so scared!”

“Shut up.”

Minho cheers you on during your performance, anyway, holding red and green balloons and your shirt, as if a banner, next to Changbin, Jisung, and Hyunjin who all hold different colors of balloons and even more diverse slogans flashing on their phones as well. “Go Y/N!” He yells whenever you have to perform a stunt or dance at the center, jumping up and down his seat and receiving confused looks from the people in their bleachers who aren’t familiar with the two of you.

“Minho’s cheering for you again.” Jeongin snickers quickly as he catches you from a lift, making you discreetly pinch his arm under you.

“Don’t even—“ You sigh, hopping off of your teammates and proceeding to the next formation.

Still, Jeongin bothers you anyway as you perform a series of jumps before kneeling down on the mats. “I just wanted to say it’s cute but pretend that didn’t come from me.” He mumbles against the loud music next to you. “Will you come out and cheer him on too?”

“You already know I will.” You sigh, clasping your hands together once it’s time to stand up again. “Will you come too?”

“I’m sitting with Chan and Seungmin!” He says before parting ways with you. “Sit with us!”

And you do, wearing Minho’s shirt again over your costume once it’s his team’s turn to perform while you hold a black and gold balloon that Chan teaches you quickly how to wave around in the way their university does in every performance. “Go Minho!” You all cheer at the same time from the courtside reporters’ area, making the said pep squad captain turn to your direction as he waits for his cue from behind a prop coffin akin to Michael Jackson’s Thriller.

Minho waves at you shyly in response, prompting the other boys to tease you for the duration of the his solo.

“Get a room!”

“Seungmin!”

The cheer dance program lasts for almost 2 hours with the team routine, the exhibition from select members where you participated (and received too much yells from your friends on different sides of the arena), and the awarding where you end up placing 1st runner-up on the team and 1st place on the exhibition while Minho snatches the Champion title for his team among all of the awards they were giving out.

By 8 PM when the program officially ends, your body is already sore from performing twice but you come out to the mats once again, anyway, to take photos with your friends.

“Okay, everyone, say cheese!” Naeun exclaims, pressing the timer on her camera before joining your group, easily climbing up your friend group’s improvised pyramid.

“Cheese!” The camera snaps photos of you and all of your friends from different universities involved in the cheer dance in quick succession, Minho teasing you from below halfway and pretending to drop your foot in his hands.

“There! I think we got it.” Seungmin points out once the camera’s snapping noise stops, standing up from kneeling in front with Chan, Yeeun, and Chaeryeong to check. “Alright, it’s good! Season 103 is done! Finally!”

Your group erupts in cheers as you and the other fliers are carefully caught back and helped back down on the mats while the courtside reporters do a group hug and snap more photos, this time on Yeeun’s phone where they started doing poses resembling their university mascots. You fall smoothly on Minho and Jeongin’s arms, hopping off easily and thanking Jeongin.

“What about me? Hm?” Minho pouts once Jeongin’s dragged away by Felix and Chenle to take more photos, carding his fingers through your bright red hair. “You could at least say thank you.”

You look up at him and snicker, elbowing his side. “Thank you, Minhooo. Happy?”

“Better.” He smirks before twisting his upper body halfway to turn behind you. When you follow his action with your gaze, your then see Changbin and Hyunjin jogging over to you with your trophies and a large bouquet of sunflowers and roses. “I got you something by the way—well, Changbin and Hyunjin bought then I paid them or else they’ll get tissues in their mouths again.”

“Wha—?” You eye the flowers as they approach in pure shock, your eyes widening even more when Changbin and Hyunjin only send you knowing smiles and winks before running away, cheering Minho on as they escape to your other friends. “W-What? W-Why this all of a sudden?”

Minho chuckles at your reaction, passing you your trophy from the exhibition category while he holds his from the team category with the bouquet in one hand. “I just thought that...it’s the end of the season—our last season so what if I—what if I finally asked you out properly?” He explains, growing more sheepish as he explains further while he then transfers the bouquet in his free hand and thrusts the fragile gift towards you. “Felix and Jeongin suggested that I make it more grander with an after-compet performance or something but I know that’s not your type so I got you flowers instead since I know you’ll win something either way.”

“O-Oh.” You muse in your speechlessness, catching a glance of your mutual friends now crowding together from a distance and holding up their phones to record Minho’s confession. Around you, even a few passersby have also momentarily stopped to look, equally as surprised knowing your infamous relationship with your somewhat rival in these competitions. “Y-You’re—you’re asking me out.”

“That’s the plan.” He shrugs with another laugh, grinning even wider when you slowly take the flowers in your own hands to smell the flowers. “If not, then we can totally just pretend I bought you the flowers as congratulations for winning the exhibition catego—hey, woah!”

You shake your head with a smile, having already gathered your thoughts, and pull him into a hug with your free hand, effectively cutting him off and making everyone around you cheer. “Of course, I’d go out with you, dumbass.” You answer his unspoken question, making him smile over your shoulder and hug you back tightly. “Anyway, I’m too lazy to kick you out of the apartment.”

“Ya!”

“I’m just kidding!” You then pull away slightly after, tiptoeing up to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for the flowers—and also maybe for assuming that I’m going to win something.”

“You always win something, anyway—even if it’s not always the team category because you can never beat me to that in this competition.” He teases, earning him another smack on the arm. “You did win my heart.”

“Ugh, Minho, gross!” You scrunch up your nose, feigning disgust and making him laugh as he dips down to kiss you. “Please never say that in front of my face ever again, we still have Nationals at the end of the semester!”

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