#well I want her to know that but I’m not ready to sour the professional relationship yet. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jenomark · 3 years ago

Text

➔Pairing: Idol!Jaemin x Reader (Female) ➔Other Members/ Characters: -.- ➔Genre: Smut ➔Warnings: Oral (F+M) + Penetration (F) ➔Word count: 2,473

➔Summary: Developing a crush on The Na Jaemin was never in the plan, but when his female co-host ends up late to the set, you step in, in more ways than one.

Anon Requested: Hello - may I request a Dreamie idolverse (idol!reader x your pick, based on who you think fits the best) where they have to interact on camera and there’s a huge tension and buildup, and then when they have a moment alone after, they can’t keep their hands off each other? Thank you! 😊

“You! Girl!” someone called.

Startled, you looked around for the voice to see a very sour looking man gesturing for you to come forward. Clipboard in hand, and an earpiece dangling from his ear, he very impatiently pointed at a spot next to the male co-host.

Na Jaemin looked up from the script in his hand. He looked at you first, how you stood there rooted to the spot in fear. Next, he looked at the man who was seconds away from getting angry with you, and he clapped him on the back.

“Sir,” he said. “There is plenty of time. I'm okay with waiting.”

The man seemed to settle down a bit. When he looked at you a second time, he asked you nicely to stand next to Jaemin, but his eyes made it clear that you better listen.

“To check the lighting,” he added gruffly before disappearing and leaving you and Jaemin alone.

The female co-host was late. Since they needed someone to stand in for her, in order for them to adjust the lighting correctly, and to see how the person next to Jaemin would appear on camera, you were the girl up for the job. Didn’t matter that all you were was a lowly assistant. Didn’t matter that Jaemin was the most handsome man you had ever seen, or that being in close proximity with him meant having to finally address the crush you had on him.

“These lights are hot.” Jaemin said. “After this, you should get into some cool air.”

Oh My God, he is talking to me. A real idol...talking to ME, you thought.

You moved your head a little to the right to show that you were listening. He was right. The lights were very hot, and you could feel yourself sweating underneath the thick sweater you wore. You were going to respond to him, gathering up the courage to do so, but a voice over the loudspeaker announced that the female co-host wouldn’t be there for another half hour.

You looked over at Jaemin. His professionalism allowed him to smile gracefully at the inconvenience. He tucked his script underneath his arm and looked towards the camera. You couldn’t stop staring at him, and you didn’t stop until someone snapped at you to look at the camera, too.

“People here aren’t very nice.” you found yourself saying.

“Not always.” he said.

You could feel him staring at you, but you didn’t dare look at him. The people behind the camera had their eyes on you. You were too scared to act up. It wasn’t until Jaemin touched his fingertips to the inside of your palm that you looked over at him.

“Have you been working here for a long time?” he asked. “I think I remember seeing you a few weeks ago.”

“That was me.” you said, trying your best to forget the time you tripped right in front of him and nearly fell flat on your face. If it wasn’t for the fact that everyone was watching and your pride forced you to catch yourself, you would have embarrassed yourself completely in front of The Na Jaemin.

Your little work crushes never lasted long, but there hadn’t been many people that affected you quite like Jaemin did. He was always so present with the people around him, so jovial and warm. He was kind to the staff. He even paid for the coffee everyone drank one day, the bill too enormous for someone with a job like yours. Sure, he was handsome and everything was perfect, and it was cool that he was an idol, but there was something about him that felt normal to you. Romanticizing him couldn't stop that feeling every time you set your eyes on him.

“Have you fixed your feet since then?” he asked, a smile so radiant and as blinding as the overhead lights on his face.

“Yes.” you said.

Someone else shouted for you to look back at the camera, so you did. Then, someone else thrust a script into your hands, the female co-hosts parts highlighted in yellow.

A rushed voice said, “ Read out all of her parts. We’re not on live, it’s just a run-through.”

While there was no patience for you, or consideration for the job you were meant to be doing, there was a certain importance placed on you when the camera light flickered on and all eyes in the room were on you. There was complete silence. Jaemin smiled beside you, his facial expression urging confidence within you.

So, you began to speak her parts. You read them carefully, before turning to pause for Jaemins parts. Your heart was hammering in your chest, but being beside his calmness made you feel a little more at ease.

Jaemin really was so good at his side job. He spoke with a smooth voice, one that knew exactly how to keep people listening. It was too easy to get lost in his velvety voice, in his handsome face, or in the way he made everyone feel included.

When it was time to cut to the female co-host's parts, Jaemin folded his hands in front of him and turned to you, like what you said was the most interesting piece of information in the room. You began to believe in yourself a little more, delivering the lines like your life depended on them.

You both went back and forth for the whole script, your words and timing running through so perfectly that it felt so natural to you. You began to feel like you were the co-host, not the woman running late. You didn’t know if it was your imagination or not, but the chemistry between you and Jaemin was obvious.

“Cut!” a voice yelled. “That was great. I think we have everything set up. Thank you everyone."

People moved all around the room. The stillness in the air when the camera went on vanished in a pinch. Voices erupted everywhere, and the movement of sound made your head hurt. Someone removed the script from your hands. Someone else came up and told you that you did a good job.

“You did really well.” Jaemin agreed, squatting down so a make-up artist could powder his face. “You’re a natural.”

“Are you sure?” I asked. “I felt like I stuttered too much.”

“You were perfect.” he winked.

The make-up artist looked at you when Jaemin couldn’t keep his eyes from you. You weren’t paying her any attention, even though her gaze could slice you in half.

“Thank you.” you said, resisting the urge to giggle.

When the make-up artist was finished, Jaemin brought himself back up to full height. You couldn’t remember him being that tall. You felt intoxicated by him. You were drawn in so deeply that you didn’t notice the sour man from earlier asking you why you weren’t getting back to your job.

“Right.” you said. “Sorry.”

Jaemin extended his hand for you to shake. His eyes never left yours. You took his hand and held it, letting him control the way your hands moved together.

“It was nice working with you,” he said.

“Yeah, me too.” you said. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”

You let go of his hand and turned to walk away, mentally kicking yourself that you had said that. Before you could pick up your pace, Jaemins voice stopped you in your tracks.

“If you turned around, you could see me right now.”

You found yourself in his arms, leaning against the wall with your mouth on his, and your hands pulling out the shirt tucked into his pants. Jaemin watched you breathlessly, a dangerous smirk on his lips, and his eyes waiting for you to look up into his.

You couldn’t remember following him back into his dressing room, his hand gently pulling you from behind. You looked at the floor the whole time, too scared to meet the eyes of women you felt were more deserving of his attention. He talked to people as he passed, using his politeness to stall the crew a little while longer. His confidence was hard to turn down, even for you.

You wanted to ask yourself what you were doing. Were you crazy? Were you so blinded by him that you would risk everything? And were you really so horny for him that you couldn’t stop touching him??

Jaemin pulled away from you, his clothes haphazardly falling from his body, the half-undressed look too sexy on him to resist. Your lips were swollen and -no doubt- red from his kisses, the soreness resuming when he wasn’t kissing them, as if the act of kissing him was a salve. He plopped on the couch and patted his lap. You came over and sat on him, straddling his lap and using your hand to push his head against the back of the couch so you could kiss him deeply. He tasted irresistible, forbidden.

You tore off your sweater, your skin sticky. Jaemin's hands snaked up your sides, his thumbs moving underneath your bra. He leaned up to kiss you between your cleavage, his hot breath creating moisture on your skin. He pushed the bra up, freeing your breasts, his mouth finding them without issue. You lean back and let him devour you, knowing that if you fall this time, he will catch you.

There was a knock at the door, which Jaemin ignored, with a sigh, the first time. He had removed your bra and watched it dangle on his finger before it hit the floor. He was touching your breasts tenderly, his hands warming up your skin. When the second knock came, you could feel him tense underneath you.

“Who is it? Jaemin asked. You could feel the emotion trapped in his body, the irritation ready to bubble out. Jaemin, if anything, was a great actor. He kept his voice even and cool.

You didn’t know what you were thinking, but you slid from his lap and sat between his legs. You wanted to ease the tension for him. There was a murmur from behind the door, but you couldn’t hear the voice anymore. You unzipped his pants, your earlier mission on your mind. After seeing Jaemin’s cock in the flesh, his still-soft length making its way into your mouth, nothing else mattered at all.

Soon enough, the person on the other side of the locked door didn’t matter to Jaemin. He watched you go at his cock, licking and stroking him like it was your life's purpose. You cared about little else but having him sit in your mouth, his hardness missing the graze of your teeth. You wanted him to come, but he was so frantic with his movements, trying to stave off the orgasm for as long as possible. Before he could finish, he took your chin in his hand softly and brought your mouth up to his for a kiss. It was a distraction, and it worked.

You pushed him back against the couch and lifted up his shirt. He was amused by how eager you were to please him. He helped you remove his shirt, before continuing to watch your mouth lick and suck his body, leaving little bruises all over. Any time you would reach down to stroke his cock or give him another soft lick you knew would drive him wild, Jaemin would hold your hand to get you to stop.

“Not yet.” was all he said.

Jaemin had insisted that you remove all of your clothes. You tore them off like they were an inconvenience. With you naked, he managed to pull you all the way up the couch, until you were hovering over his face, your legs wobbling with fear. Your pussy lowering down onto Jaemin’s face and his hands against your back for support, you felt his tongue pushing your lips aside. The warmth made you suck in your breath and brace your palms against the wall, before you felt the pleasure of his tongue working its way to your clit. He tasted you everywhere, licking and sucking, pulling you down harder against him so that you were nearly suffocating him, eating you out until your legs were shaking so bad that he had to set you down again.

You wanted to make him come like he had made you come, but Jaemin had other plans. He laid you on the couch. He kissed your body, loving on it until you were begging him to be inside of you. He avoided your pussy, and you wondered if it was on purpose, if he wasn’t letting you come a second time. His mouth was on your inner thigh, the unshaved little hairs you could barely see on his face tickling your skin. He was rough with his teeth, even rougher with the way his fingers prodded and poked you. You were so wet, so ready, that you knew if he even breathed in that direction, you would come again.

“We don’t need these.” Jaemin said, ridding himself of his own pants and underwear.

It was chilly in the dressing room, but Jaemin using his body to cover you made you feel hot. His weight made the scene all too real, and you were suddenly transported out of your horny haze and back to where you were and to whom you were with

“Oh my god.” you said, looking up at him.

You could feel his hard cock on the inside of your leg. He kissed your neck. He shifted your leg so that he could get more comfortable between them.

“I haven't done anything yet.” he said quietly.

“This is going to get me fired.” you grinned from ear-to-ear

Jaemin grinned back, his handsome face making you fall silent. He had his hand on his cock and was using it to guide himself inside of you. Feeling all of him there was well worth the way you were treated by other people during the day. Jaemin’s cock erased everything from your mind, his thrusting making you feel a little bit smug that it was you and not anyone else.

With each thrust, you spoke. “Please. Don’t. Stop. I. Don’t. Care. If. Anyone. Walks. In.”

“You want it, you got it.” he said, fucking you good.

Jaemin pushed you further up the couch, until you were almost in a sitting position, your body against the arm rest. He moved up with you on his knees, holding you by your waist and using his muscles to bring your body down onto his cock. During the fun, he managed to grab fistfuls of your hair and hold on tight, while his cock drilled you, until a third knock came on the door.

"I'm coming." Jaemin called, smiling as he was getting ready to do just that.

#na jaemin #jaemin #nct #nct dream #nct jaemin #nct dream jaemin #nct smut #nct dream smut #jaemin smut #nct jaemin smut #na jaemin smut #nct fanfic #nct dream fanfic #jaemin fanfic #idol!jaemin

499 notes · View notes

monodreamin · 3 years ago

Text

Happy birthday baby

Pairing: Namjoon x reader

Rated: M (18+)

Genre: smut, tiny bit of fluff, one shot

Synopsis: it’s your boyfriend Kim Namjoon’s birthday. You go out to dinner where the waitress is eyeing your man. You get jealous and your man reminds you why he’s with you.

Warnings: praise, dirty talk, soft dom!Namjoon, cum eating, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, breast play, ass smacking, Cunnilingus, jealous reader, profanity and cream pie, sloppy sex, cum marking, doggy style, (please let me know if I missed something)

Words: 3,018

Author’s note: I love Namjoon he is my ultimate bias so I came up with this one shot for him on his birthday enjoy.

It was your boyfriend of 5 years Kim Namjoon's birthday and you made reservations at his favorite Korean and Chinese infused restaurant. Your Korean boyfriend who of course loves Korean food, its his favorite. You dressed to impress in a black tight, short low cut dress paired with black fishnet rhinestone stockings and silver sparkly heels to match. Namjoon entered the bedroom wearing navy blue pants and a white button up shirt. “I can’t find my shoes anywhere.” you chuckled watching your boyfriend struggle to find them.

Namjoon was now on his hands and knees searching under the bed. You admired him for a bit before you told him “Your shoes are in the closet.” you turned to the mirror finishing up your makeup. “You could have told me that sooner.” you giggled at his words “but it's cute to see you struggle a bit.” Namjoon got up from his hands and knees and headed to the closet. He found the shoes quickly and put them on.

“Are we ready to go?” You asked him.

“Yes, I'm ready, let's go.” He responded.

You were both now at the very well lit restaurant, menus weren’t needed because you ordered all of his favorite food beforehand. The waitress came over, placing the food on the table. You notice the extra switch in her hips as she makes her way towards the table. She smiled brightly at Namjoon. “If you need anything else I’ll be very happy to serve you.”You rolled your eyes at the interaction, this wasn’t new territory to you, you have seen this before. “Thanks, I'm sure we are set.” You replied trying to send her out on her way, you watched as she winked at your boyfriend and strutted away.

Your boyfriend is kind, he’s handsome, very smart and well accomplished. Of course women took notice of him, not to mention he was a huge star and one of the members of the world’s biggest bands. No matter how long you two were together you were only human and happened to get jealous from time to time, you tried not to, but jealousy isn't an emotion easily controlled. You sat quietly moving the food on your plate with your chopsticks.

“you're awfully quiet. Is everything ok?” Namjoon of course took notice.

“I’m fine.” Was your very simple answer.

“Really? I don’t think you are.”

You didn’t want the bitchy girlfriend ruining

her boyfriend’s birthday. You were trying to act as if everything was okay but maybe you weren’t acting good enough. You weren’t a professional actress after all as much as you wanted to believe.

“ Try this sweet and sour pork, it's delicious” You picked the pork up using your chopsticks and fed it to Namjoon. You picked up on the way he was noticing something was wrong but didn’t want to ruin the moment it was his birthday. Any stupid small moment of jealousy was not worth it, you wanted to make sure your Boyfriend’s birthday was special.

“It really is good” he chewed and you smiled at him trying your best to brush off the green eyed monster reeling it’s head in. You both sat eating your food having light conversation in between, when you were both done with your meals the waitress makes another appearance this time with a birthday cake.

You noticed that the waitress had spruced up and made sure her cleavage was on full display. The first three buttons on her blouse undone. When she sets the cake on the table she makes sure to bend down enough to have her cleavage close to Namjoon’s face.

“Thanks for the cake, you can go now.” You

said giving the woman a cold stare. The woman obliges and is back to wherever the hell she came from. You cut the cake giving Namjoon the first piece.

“Thanks, you got my favorite cake. We can take the rest home and have more later.”

“Of course.” Here you were again with the short answers. You were trying so hard not to let this silly moment bother you but it was in fact bothering you the way that woman can be so bold and disrespectful in front of you, his girlfriend.

You packed the cake up not wanting to see that woman again before you let the situation really ruin your night, you left more than enough to cover the bill. “Let’s go.” You hurriedly got up from your seat with the box in your hand you were making your way out the door. You held the door open waiting for Namjoon when you noticed he was a bit behind you. The waitress handed Namjoon something in his hand.

You were barely hanging by a thread now. Not only was she extremely bold in trying to get his attention but now here she was handing your boyfriend her number and he was accepting it.

You were back home and saw Namjoon trying to sneakily rip the small piece of paper and throw it in the trash can. “ Was that her number?” you snuck up from behind him. Namjoon was trying to quietly get rid of the paper, seemingly not to upset you anymore.

“I thought you were in the bedroom removing your makeup.” You usually went to the bedroom and removed your makeup after going out. You were big on skincare and had a strict 10 step skincare routine that you did every night before going to bed so of course he assumed that was what you were doing.

“Namjoon I saw everything you were doing so of course…” Namjoon cut your words short.

“I don’t give a fuck how that waitress was acting with me at the restaurant. Get whatever is in your head out of it. I’m at the restaurant with you, my girlfriend of 5 years that I love so much. All I could think of is ripping your fishnet stockings and pulling your panties to the side and eating your pussy right there on that table.”

You were taken aback by his words but you couldn’t lie his words were turning you on the way he looked at you when he said those words you swallowed hard. “You know I love you I don’t care about how anyone else is looking at me or talking to me or shit if you think they want me because I don’t want them I only want you. I took the number because I didn’t want to be rude that is all.” He moved closer to you and your back was now against the kitchen wall.

“What do I have to do to prove it to you? Huh, tell me?” He was so close to you you could feel his breath fan over your face. “Namjoon… it’s your birthday I…”

“It is my birthday, beautiful and you know what? All I want is you. Are you going to let me have you?” You were feeling dizzy with lust. This is your boyfriend who you loved so much of course he could have you, all of you if he wanted he didn’t even have to ask.

Namjoon leaned over kissing your lips with such hunger and power trying his best with this kiss to reassure you it is you he always wanted . When he pulled away after a few minutes of just making out, your eyes scanning over his lips up to his nose then his eyes “Namjoon it’s your birthday and even if it wasn’t you still could have me anytime and anywhere and any place you want. I love you so much . I'm sorry I got jealous, it was silly of me. I just want you to have a good birthday, that’s all.”

He raised his eyebrow at you “good because I feel the same exact way. I don’t care how many people seem interested in me to you. I’m only interested in you. I don’t care about anyone else. Look at me now, where am I? I’m here with you and that’s how it’s going to remain. I love you, I see my future with you, no one else I won’t ever do anything to risk losing that I don’t want to lose you ever nothing is worth losing you.” Somehow it felt like it was your birthday with his sweet reassuring words that put your heart at ease. He pulled you by the waist until both of your bodies were against each other’s. “You are right, everything you said is true and I believe you and I’m so sorry I just want us to be together forever. I just want you to enjoy the rest of your birthday.” You say leaning over kissing him once more. The kissing of course turned into another whole make out session then without warning your eyes still closed you heard your black fishnet stockings get torn by him.

You were sad your pretty fishnets were torn. You just bought them and loved how they looked on you, especially over your sexy black bra and panty matching set you bought just for this special occasion, which you paired with beautiful silver sparkly high heels to accentuate the sparkle of the rhinestones on your fishnet stockings.

Namjoon lifts you up, placing kisses on your neck and face before taking you to the bedroom and laying you on the bed. He scans over you as you lay on the bed with your legs spread open, you were craving him to be in between those legs you spread so far apart. “I’m sorry about the stockings, I'll get you new ones.” You laughed at how concerned he must have seen you get over him ripping your new beloved stockings.

“It’s fine and only because it is your birthday, but what was it you said you wanted to do to me at the restaurant again?” Namjoon ripped your stockings a bit more to where there was enough space to pull your panties to the side. Your freshly waxed pussy bare for him to feast on. The night before you made sure to fully prepare for this moment. You wanted to look your best so you also got a pedicure and manicure.

You felt Namjoon’s tongue take a long slow swipe “oh my fuck… Joonie” you’re hands ran through his now short hair,you loved his hair long but something about it when it was short you just really loved how it looked on him. Your thoughts were cut short as you felt Namjoon's tongue swirl over your clit, his hand holding your panties as his skillful tongue glided up and down your pussy.

You watched as he sucked on your clit. Your juices and his saliva had you drenched it was the way Namjoon love to fuck you wet and sloppy. “Look how good you are for me, pretty girl.” He rubbed his hand over your pussy “this is what I like to see.” You let out a moan. “His finger slowly entered you.”Look at that baby how easily my finger slides right in and out.”

You watched as he fingered you using one finger for a bit until you were open and wet enough to slide the second finger right in.

You threw your head back enjoying the pleasure of his two fingers fucking in and out of you. “Namjoon it feels so good shit don’t stop please” you could feel his fingers curl deep inside of you. It was driving you wild how good his fingers alone could make you feel. The man knew exactly what to do to your body; it was one of the many skills he possessed and damn he was talented.

“Do my fingers feel good, curling deep inside you like that?” You bit your lip shaking your head yes with such desperation. You couldn’t speak only ungodly noises and sounds escaping your lips. Namjoon’s mouth attached to your pussy again as he continued to finger you knuckles deep. “I’m cumming Joon fuck I’m cumming” you screwed your eye shut at the immense pleasure you were feeling.

“Look at me, I want to see you while you cum all over my fingers baby girl.” Your eyes opened and locked in with his as you felt your release. Namjoon removed his fingers from inside of you. Your wetness coated his fingers and some of the bed. “That’s my fucking good girl right there.” Namjoon pressed a soft kiss over your drenched pussy. Your walls tighten at the action.

“That felt so good my legs are still shaking.” You tried to remove the fishnet stockings off of you but Namjoon reached for your hand stopping you. “The fishnets stay on I want to fuck you with them on.” You moved your hands away from them.

“ I want you like this” Namjoon laid you on your stomach “but with your ass up.” You obliged him by arching your back as best as you can, letting him get the perfect view of your perk ass.

“I love it when you’re like this.” He smacks your ass “such a pretty needy thing you are.” Namjoon once more moved your panties to the side, placing his hard cock on your ass and slowly rubbing it on and in between your weak cheeks.

“Namjoon put it in already please.” You look back at him spreading your ass cheeks to give him a better look of you. “Shh you’ll get it alright.” Namjoon placed another hard slap on your ass then another. Your cheeks began to redden with his handprints. “Do you like it when I’m a little bit rough with you? Look how wet you are drilling for me.” Namjoon rubs his dick over your soaking folds making sure to cover his cock with some of your juices before he sticks it in.

You make soft noises anticipating what is yet to come. You knew Namjoon would give you what you wanted and more. Namjoon places his hand on both of your breasts as he enters you slowly from behind until he is buried to the hilt in you. You let out a loud moan as he held your chest firmly together as he plunged in and out of you.

Namjoon’s heavy breathing could be heard as he picked up the pace going faster and faster. Your body provides enough wetness for him to glide in and out of you perfectly. You look back at him to watch him Fucking you so good he was so focused and in tune with your body making sure to please not only himself but you.

You began to match his speed moving your hips back and forth matching the way he stroked into you. “Fuck you feel so damn good.” He let’s put a groan you can tell he like you were almost there. You keep at it for a few more minutes making sure your ass had an extra bounce because you knew it turned your man on the way you would move your ass. He loved to see it that’s why he was taking you in this position.

You pushed your head down on the bed as he kept pummeling you. The sound of skin slapping against skin and both of your moans echoing throughout the room. You were close to cumming again and he was too. You could tell by the way his tempo changed from a steady powerful pace to one that now was sloppy and desperate for release.

You soon were flooded with Namjoon’s cum your pussy once more flooding his dick with your wetness he made sure to pull out and to get some of his semen on your ass. Your fishnet stockings were now painted by him too. Once more he rubbed his dick all over ass making sure to get your combined juices all over your ass was glistening in your combined juices. He loved to see the mess you both have created on some part of your body this time it was your ass. You lay on the bed trying to catch your breath.

“Happy birthday baby and don’t forget you owe me a new pair of stockings.” You said looking at him beside you laughing. “Don’t worry I’ll get you a lot more so we can do this over again and again. You didn’t mind, you liked it as much as he did and you couldn’t wait to do it again soon enough.

“Well I still have them on and there are a lot of positions left for us to try.” You poked at his exposed dimple. “I’ll get us some water and we can start on round two. This time I want to be on top.” You said leaving the bedroom to get some water before you started on round two. This was going to be a birthday your man would never forget. You don’t think you could ever look at fishnet stockings the same again.

Not without thinking of the time your boyfriend fully blew out your back. Today had to be the best sex you ever had not only because it was so good but because you loved Namjoon so much.

You would do anything to make him happy and that in turn made you happy as well. You returned to the bedroom with two tall glasses of ice with water setting them on the nightstand. “Make sure you drink up, you'll need all the energy” he teased you.

“Yea you too you will need it as well because the things I’m about to do to you.” You took a long drink from your glass. “I can’t wait to see.” He pulled you on top of him and you kissed his wet lips straddling his lap. “Close your eyes” he did as you said and you rubbed your body up against his distracting him as you handcuffed him to the bed.

“Wait, did you just handcuffed me to the bed?” He opened his eyes and looked at both his hands handcuffed to the bed. “ Yes, now it’s my turn to have fun. I'm in control now. Happy birthday again baby.”

©Monodreamin no copying, translating or stealing any of my works.

Love this story? Want more click here

Also feedback will be nice it means more than you know, you can do it through anon asks. I’m nice I won’t bite unless you like 👀😂 jk please just send me something.

#namjoon x reader #namjoon one shot #namjoon fic #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #bts smut #bts fanfic #happy birthday Namjoon

280 notes · View notes

kpopfanfictrash · 4 years ago

Text

Raise the Barre (Ch. 8)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Jimin / Reader

Rating: 18+ (Eventual Smut)

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Dance Academy!AU

Warnings: underage drinking, angst, hoseok’s bare abs

Word Count: 10,705

Summary: You and Park Jimin have been rivals for as long as you’ve known one another; ever since he tripped you in the front row of your first dance convention. When you graduate from high school and enter Russet Ballet Academy, you tell yourself you’re leaving all past quarrels behind. The main problem with this though, is that your past seems determined not to leave you alone.

Worse still, the obstacles you face while out in the real world might prove more challenging than anything your enemy has to offer.

“Okay, even you have to admit this is too soon.” Finn stared, appalled at the chalkboard. “It’s not even Halloween!”

Laughing a little, you looped your arm around his to drag him towards the back. Plopping down in a chair, you placed your order number in the center of the table. Seating himself across the table from you, Finn began to undo his coat.

“Come on.” He grinned, brown hair flopping when he leaned forward. “Admit it – this is too early for holiday drinks.”

“Okay, maybe it’s a little early,” you acquiesced. “But Halloween is tomorrow! They probably just put up the holiday drinks so they don’t have to do it on Sunday.”

“Laziness!” he cried, jabbing a finger in the air.

Shaking your head, you smiled when Namjoon, the barista, placed a pumpkin soy latte before you.

“Thanks!” you said, pulling this towards you.

“No problem,” he said, flashing his dimples before he turned to leave.

Taking a long, slow sip of your drink, you groaned. “Oh my god. This is it. This is heaven.”

Finn laughed. “Is that seriously your first pumpkin drink of the season?” Sadly, he shook his head. “I remember our senior year, you dragged me out of bed at 7:00 AM on a Saturday just to get the first pumpkin drink of the year.”

“I know,” you sighed. “But I’ve needed the extra caffeine jolt each morning. Sweet drinks just don’t cut it anymore.”

“Ah, the first step in addiction.” Finn nodded sagely.

Smiling, you settled back in your seat as he took the first sip of his black coffee. It had been two weeks since your fight at the club and since then, Finn had been on his best behavior. For about a week, things between you had been awkward but slowly, your relationship was returning to normal.

Seated in the corner of your favorite coffee shop, you drank from your cup and glanced around the room. This was what you’d pictured when you imagined you and Finn living in the city together. Coffee dates, going on new adventures and continuing your relationship where it had left off.

Of course, this morning was only possible because Miss Britt’s ballet class had been cancelled. A contemporary master class had been scheduled for the afternoon, but your day before then was free – something you’d immediately taken advantage of by calling Finn. It was becoming easier to fit each other into your schedules, more like second nature, but things were still tense whenever things didn’t line up.

None of this was eased by the burgeoning whatever-it-was you’d shoved to the back of your mind regarding Jimin. Since the day of Mr. Vlad’s ballet class, you’d managed to keep your emotions in check, but were constantly on the lookout for dangerous situations. You and Jimin were professionals, obviously, but you were also only human. It was reasonable to have subconscious wants and desires, but these weren’t important unless you chose to act upon them.

You didn’t tell Finn about it because honestly, there was nothing to tell. Okay, so you’d felt an errant spark one day during a lift. Big deal. Finn had been your boyfriend for over two years – it would take more than that to threaten your relationship. A relationship which, frankly, had been getting stronger as of late. Telling him something as inconsequential as a spark you had with Jimin would only take you further down the wrong path.

“Are you sure you’re okay with us doing separate things tomorrow?” Finn interrupted your thoughts. His brow furrowed. “It is Halloween, after all.”

“Ah, yes.” You nodded. “Halloween, the internationally known couple’s holiday.”

He laughed. “Okay, point made – but still.”

“It’s fine,” you assured him. This was something you’d already been over. “It just makes sense like this! Your friends are going to that off-campus party and I promised Noelle I’d go to this club thing with her.”

“Right, of course.” Finn grinned. “I’m bummed I’ll miss seeing you as the Powerpuff girls, though. Who’s going to be the third one, again?”

“Well, I’m Blossom – obviously.”

“Of course.” He nodded. “Miss Responsibility.”

A twinge of annoyance went through you, but you pushed it aside. You didn’t think you were always the responsible one but admittedly, you’d been more on edge than usual lately.

“Anyways,” you continued with a roll of your eyes. “I’m Blossom, Noelle is Buttercup and Irene is going as Bubbles. It’ll be fun! Aside from the whole club part, of course.”

“It does sound fun,” Finn admitted, a tad mournful. “Meanwhile, I’ve been roped into the classic college bro costume of Ghostbusters.”

“Oh, come on! That is classic! You’ll be super cute in your… suit? Cargo pants? What do Ghostbusters wear again?”

“Knowing Ben, something tragic from Party City. Pray for me.”

“I’ll light candles.”

Finn grinned, sipping his coffee again and your conversation slipped naturally to other topics.

Halloween fell on a Saturday this year, which meant every college campus was gearing up for some epic parties. Noelle had managed to snag tickets to a club fancy enough to require an RSVP. Apparently, said brother she missed was a DJ and could get tickets to a lot of things if Noelle bothered to ask.

A bunch of people from Russet were going, which made you excited. There hadn’t been many parties with your classmates so far this semester. Despite technically being in college, your classmates were all under the same intense pressure, only made worse by constant early morning ballet.

This week though, even your teachers seemed to have decided you needed a break. Aside from the master class you had this afternoon, there were zero Russet classes until Monday morning. The break in schedule meant you could actually go out – and drink – if you so decided. You and Noelle were planning on attending a ballet class tomorrow, but your entire day after would be free.

You’d originally planned on seeing Finn during the day, but then he’d been invited to a Halloween darty (day party) starting at noon. Despite not seeing Finn on Halloween, you weren’t feeling stressed. It was only one holiday and not even a couple’s one, as you’d said.

After coffee, you kissed Finn goodbye and headed to class at Danley Hall. The atmosphere was different as soon as you entered the classroom – all of the students were buzzing, excited by the prospect of the weekend ahead. The excitement only grew when coupled with the fact that today’s class was contemporary.

For nearly two months, your training had been mostly ballet. This was the foundation of all western dance, and where most dance students were expected to start. Finally though, you were being given a chance to show off. Today’s teacher, Luna Jordan, was a well-known contemporary choreographer across the globe.

You’d done a master class with her once back in high school and honestly couldn’t wait to learn from her again. She wasn’t alone, though, you noticed as you walked in – an unfamiliar, dark-haired guy stood beside her, stretching lithely before the room’s mirror.

“Holy shit,” Noelle whispered as she came to a stop. “That’s Jeon Jungkook.”

Startled, you looked twice and saw she was right. You hadn’t recognized him without his bevy of followers, but Jeon Jungkook was known in the dance world. A child prodigy, he’d been on America’s Got Talent at age eleven and finished in second place. Following this, his family had moved to LA and he’d been in high demand for movies, music videos and performances ever since.

You remembered hearing he worked with Luna Jordan, but the thought hadn’t crossed your mind before now that he might be here.

Noelle cocked her head to one side. “He’s hot.”

“Noelle,” you hissed, trying to shush her.

“What!” A devious grin spread across her face. “Am I supposed to be blind, as well as mute?”

“Well, no, but –”

“Alright, everyone!” Miss Luna clapped her hands together. “I know everyone is excited for the weekend, but we unfortunately have an hour and a half together before then. Everyone spread out for warm-ups!”

A few people laughed, spreading out on the floor as class began. Noelle wriggled her eyebrows, pulling you towards the front in order to get the best spot. Hiding a smile, you ducked your head and settled beside her into a stretch.

Noelle was nearly as excited as you were for the opportunity to dance contemporary. Most of your classmates knew this to be your forte – you caught glances from the corner of your eye while you warmed up, trying not to let their attention get to your head.

Jimin was also near the front, although on the opposite side. You suspected your class was equally excited to see him perform – as talented as Jimin was at ballet, there was a reason you hadn’t thought he’d be at Russet this fall. Jimin’s strength in jazz and contemporary was unparalleled. You would’ve thought he’d gone to LA to become a dancer like Jungkook.

Speaking of whom – Jungkook really was attractive; that much couldn’t be denied. He had dark, wavy hair pulled into a bun and cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass. When he glanced up from his stretch, his gaze somehow found yours and he smiled.

Eyes widening, you stared until you caught sight of Jimin behind him. Glancing between the two of you, Jimin’s expression soured before he looked away. Lips parting, you felt the sudden urge to say something, but there was too much distance between you.

“You ready?” Miss Luna called, an upbeat pop song blasting from the stereo. “Let’s go!”

She launched into isolations, leaving the rest of the class to follow. Warm-ups passed quickly and before you knew it, you were gathered at center to learn the combination. Miss Luna’s style was right up your alley. The steps came easily and, once you’d learned the whole chorus, she left you alone to practice.

You were helping Ari with a difficult move when you caught sight of Sabrina as you turned. She’d positioned herself near the back, which had to be a first. Usually, Sabrina was front and center to allow for maximum receipt of teacher praise.

The decision to stand near the back could’ve been strategy – sometimes, dancers did that at conventions. Conventions were giant weekends of competition with teachers from all over the globe who taught master classes to hundreds of dancers in hotel ballrooms and convention centers. Space at the front tended to be limited, so some stayed at the back, where there was more room to dance and be seen. You had a greater likelihood to capture the teacher’s attention when you had the room to do incredible leaps.

Sabrina’s decision didn’t seem strategic, though. While you watched, Sabrina stumbled transitioning from one move to the next. A brief twinge of pity went through you.

It was easy enough to spot ballerinas dancing anything but ballet. Although ballet was the root of modern westernized dance, it could be hard to translate into other styles. Ballet was more rigid than contemporary, jazz or hip-hop. In ballet, each position was defined, individual style was limited, and dancers were expected to all look the same. Standing out in the corps de ballet was equally frowned upon as missing an entrance.

Not that ballet wasn’t important to all dance styles, mind you. Even hip-hop dancers took ballet to improve their balance, core strength and general understanding of the body. There was an element of individuality in other dance styles, though, which lacked in ballet. Contemporary and hip-hop dancers were expected to have relentless technique all while creating their own, unique flair.

Just looking at Sabrina you could clearly see the holes. She was trying so hard to emulate the moves of Miss Luna, she was kind of missing the point. When Miss Luna did a certain flick of the wrist, it wasn’t a defined part of the choreography, but rather an individual choice.

Without thinking, you took a step forward – only to stop. Sabrina wouldn’t want your help; she’d already made that abundantly clear. Besides, you knew her friend Katie to be a contemporary dancer. She could help Sabrina and yet, when you looked, you saw Katie practicing near the front with Jungkook.

Jungkook obviously knew the steps, since this was probably the tenth time he’d learned the combination. Dance teachers often did that – selected a dancer to attend classes with them, traveling to different cities to demonstrate the combination and help when they weren’t free.

Before you could decide whether to help Sabrina, Miss Luna clapped her hands again.

“Let’s do groups!” she declared. “I’ll count you off into groups of four, and each group will showcase. Sound good?”

It wasn’t really a question so much as an announcement. The rest of the class nodded, waiting while Miss Luna counted you off. You ended up in the same group as Irene, Paulo and a few others. Jimin and Noelle were in the group two, while Sabrina was in the group after theirs.

Jogging off to the side, you waited while the first group took center. You were part of group four, which meant you’d be amongst the last to dance on the floor. When the music began, you closed your eyes and began to mark the combination. You tried not to focus on what anyone else was doing, but this became difficult once Noelle’s group stepped up.

Noelle had trained in jazz and contemporary, although she’d stopped in high school to focus mainly on ballet. Still, her artistry shone in her movement. She could definitely stand to loosen up a bit but was still one of the best in the bunch. You found yourself smiling when she landed a turn, silently cheering her on from the side.

While you were watching, Jimin cut across your vision.

Dropping to the ground, he rolled and arched as his forehead brushed wood. His quality of movement was breathtaking and for a moment, you felt like you were back in high school.

Suddenly returned to those dimmed auditoriums, you watched Jimin take the stage like an otherworldly being. His body seemed to move before your mind could comprehend. Barely did he finish one move before he was starting another, the steps flowing endlessly together like unhindered water. Although you knew the combination and knew how you would dance it, watching Jimin perform was a different experience entirely.

Ballet required dancers to stay on the beat but in contemporary, they were expected to lag. Extensions were all the more breathtaking when they clung to the last second, seeming as though the dancer might not make it before they caught up. Jimin was an expert in this, knowing exactly when to hang precariously over the edge and when to pull back.

Watching him dance, that pesky, strange something bloomed in your chest again.

Squashing this quickly, you looked away and resumed marking the combo. The end of the song was improvisation though and, unable to stop yourself, you found your attention drifting to Jimin again. He was ridiculously beautiful – you nearly didn’t hear when Miss Luna called for them to stop. As she turned off the music, she applauded the group while they walked from the floor.

Breathing heavily, Noelle came to a stop alongside you and – somewhat guiltily, since you hadn’t been watching – you gave her a high-five.

“That was awesome!” you said with a grin. “You definitely stood out in the group.”

Noelle snort-laughed. “Not with Jimin up there, but that’s okay. This is his specialty – and yours,” she added with a wink. “I’m psyched for group four.”

“Ah,” you groaned, rubbing your neck. “Too much pressure.”

Noelle laughed, shaking her head as group three took the floor. Both of you fell silent to watch, your curious gaze finding Sabrina in the back. Sabrina looked almost nervous; an emotion which seemed out of place on her features. It made her look almost human.

As soon as the music began, you stifled a wince. Sabrina stood out from the group, and not in a good way. She had the combination down but moved with a woodenness you would’ve expected from someone half her age. It was enough for you to glance at Miss Luna, wondering if she had noticed.

“Wow,” Noelle whispered, looking almost gleeful. “Sabrina is terrible.”

“Noelle!” you whisper-laughed.

“What? After everything she’s done? After everything she’s said?” Noelle’s gaze narrowed. “Sabrina deserves this.”

Despite privately agreeing, you couldn’t help but feel bad as Sabrina continued. Not wanting to watch any longer, you turned towards the front and resumed marking the combo. As soon as Miss Luna cut the music and polite clapping ensued, you turned back around.

It was time for group four. A shaky, sick feeling entered your stomach as you walked to center. So many eyes were on you, but it had been so long since you danced contemporary. You couldn’t help but wonder if you were as good as people seemed to imagine. Surrounded by so many dancers at Russet, surely your own talent would pale in comparison.

As soon as the music began though, everything faded. Insecurities slipping away, a lightness entered your chest as, eyes falling shut, you slowly inhaled.

Taking a step forward, you opened your eyes and began.

To you, dance had several phases. The first was learning, where you memorized each step and put them in order. The second was understanding, where your muscle memory began to take over and the combination felt smoother. The final phase, performance, was when you thought not of the steps, and were free to just dance.

This was your favorite phrase. In this phase, your mind separated from your body, leaving you only with sweat and emotion. Dance was the only art form composed solely of the body. An odd combination of physical strength and artistic beauty, it was both a testament to human capability and human emotion.

Losing yourself in the music, you ebbed and flowed through the combination until the choreography ended and improvisation began. Finally, you let go and held nothing back. Raw, unbridled passion poured out as you lost sight of yourself, so consumed by the movement.

When the song finally finished and you came to a stop, you were panting for breath. Glancing up, the first person you saw was Jimin.

He stood off to one side, leaning casually against the rungs of the barre, but his expression was anything but. Focused on you, his gaze had turned dark in a way which made you catch your breath.

Miss Luna clapped both hands once again, returning your attention to her. Blinking, Jimin shook his head and in your peripheral, you saw him straighten.

“Very good!” Miss Luna scanned the group. “I know our time is nearly at and end, but why don’t we have a few students come out and demonstrate?”

Again, this was fairly common in master classes. After learning the combination, teachers would often single out students to perform as examples. It wasn’t always the students with the best technique who got chosen. Oftentimes, it was as much for passion and performance quality.

Taking a step forward, Miss Luna began to call out names. You were one of the first – setting your water down, you jogged back to center. Jimin was the next person called, then Noelle, much to your excitement. Jungkook was also instructed to join on the floor.

Turning the lights halfway down, Miss Luna pressed play and let you improvise until the combination began. Jungkook started dancing and honestly, he was beautiful, but you couldn’t linger on him for long.

Catching sight of Jimin again, you were once more transported to earlier times. This wasn’t the first time you’d been called out together. Oftentimes, this had happened at conventions but back then, your mind had been too clouded to see him for who he was.

You’d always wanted to beat him in high school, but now, you were consumed by the oddest desire to see him do well.

Glancing up, Jimin caught your gaze and he smiled – but then, the combination began.

By the time you were finished, you could hardly catch your breath but somehow, you felt the most alive you’d been in ages. Back in your own element, surrounded by some of the most amazing dancers in the world – this was what you’d imagined when you came to Russet.

People around the room clapped, some of them begrudgingly. You got the impression many of your classmates weren’t used to not being chosen. As you walked from the floor, you saw surprisingly, Sabrina wasn’t amongst them.

Instead, Sabrina simply looked tired – as though she’d tried her best and it hadn’t been enough. You knew that look. You sympathized with that look.

The look lingered in the back of your mind while you packed up your things and listened to Noelle discuss Halloween tomorrow. When she mentioned Ari had decided to visit her family this weekend, an idea began to form in your mind.

“Wait,” you interrupted, looking up. “Ari can’t come tomorrow?”

Noelle shook her head. “Her brother just turned eighteen, so her whole family is having a party or something.”

“So… her ticket is free, then?”

“Yes…” Noelle paused. “Why? Y/N, what are you planning?”

“Okay. Hear me out,” you said as you shrugged on your coat. It was cold enough now for the coat to be necessary.

Noelle sighed, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Alright, I’m listening.”

Glancing away, you saw Sabrina packing her things on the other side of the room. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you returned to Noelle.

“What if we invited Sabrina?”

Noelle snorted. “Pass.”

“Noelle,” you laughed, reaching out for her arm. “Come on! Do you really think she’s doing anything for Halloween?”

“Probably not. And that’s her own fault.”

“Maybe,” you said, glancing at Sabrina once more. “But how could it hurt? We have an extra ticket, there’ll be tons of people tomorrow night. She’ll probably say no – at least this way, you can claim a write-off on your way into heaven!”

Noelle upper lip twitched. “Oh, is that how write-offs work?”

“Well, I can only assume.”

Finally, she laughed. “Ugh, fine. You can invite her – but only because it’s Halloween, and Halloween is a time for peace. And slutty costumes.”

“Thanks, babe,” you said, squeezing her waist in a one-armed hug.

Sighing exaggeratedly, Noelle waved aside your thanks. Hiking your bag higher, you began to make your way across the room. As you closed in on Sabrina, you began to rethink your choice. It had been nearly a month since anything bad had happened between you but still, you found yourself feeling wary. As tough as you pretended to be, rejection hurt you just as much as the next person.

Still, dancing with Jimin had been a reminder of just how bitter your relationship used to be. If that relationship could change, you had to imagine things with Sabrina could, too.

Coming to a stop at her bag, you waited for her to look up. When she finally did, her brow wrinkled in confusion.

“What?” Sabrina asked, sounding defensive. “What do you want, Y/N?”

You couldn’t really blame her for her suspicion. Had your situations been reversed, you would’ve been equally distrustful. It was likely Sabrina thought you were coming over to gloat, or say something to do with class today. Another twinge of pity went through you as Sabrina zipped her bag shut to stand.

“I just wanted to know what you were doing tomorrow,” you said, trying to smile. “Noelle has an extra ticket to a Halloween party, and we thought you might like to come.”

Sabrina stared. “What?”

“Tomorrow is Halloween,” you said, a bit slower. “You know – when we were kids, it was all about costumes and candy. Now, it’s about costumes and booze?”

Sabrina failed to crack a smile. “And you want… me to come to this party?”

Something about the way she said this made you sad, as though she genuinely thought this might be a joke. As though at any moment, someone might jump out and yell SIKE.

“Yeah,” you said, softening a little. “Look – it’s not a big deal if you can’t make it. A bunch of our class is going though, so we thought of you.”

Sabrina hesitated, then glanced at the door. “Okay,” she said, looking back. “Okay, yeah. I’ll come.”

Stifling your surprise, you nodded. “Great. I’ll text you where to meet us tomorrow before the club. Wear a costume,” you added before walking away. “Noelle said it’s required.”

“Alright,” Sabrina said, so quiet you almost missed it.

Walking away, you were nearly at the door when Jungkook popped up before you. Flashing a smile, he fixed a loose strand of hair away from his face. Feet fumbling to a stop, you could only stare.

“Y/N, right?” he said, sounding shy.

Unable to find the words, you blinked in response. The way Jungkook danced had been so confident, you’d only assumed this to be his off-floor persona, as well. Hearing him sound shy was unexpected.

Also – you hadn’t expected him to know your name.

“I… yeah, that’s me.” Shaking your head, you smiled. “Jungkook, right?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “I just wanted to say I’m such a big fan of your dancing. It was great to take class with you today.”

Without meaning to, a laugh escaped your lips. Jungkook stared at you, baffled until you quickly waved him off.

“Oh, no – no! Sorry,” you said. “I’m not laughing at you! I’m just laughing at the ridiculousness of you saying you’re a fan of me.”

Some of Jungkook’s wariness disappeared, and a small smile played across his lips.

“Well, I am.” His grin widened. “I used to assist on the convention circuit, too and I remember you being called out all the time. You and Jimin,” he added, glancing across the room.

You looked, too and saw Jimin still packing his things. His back was stiff, pointedly not looking in your direction. Lingering on him a moment, you returned to Jungkook.

“Still,” you said with a laugh. “It’s a bit of a stretch to say we took class together when you’re the teacher’s assistant.”

“True.” Jungkook paused. “Well, next time you’re in LA, let’s fix that. Let me know if you’re ever in town and we can take a class together.”

Despite yourself, your brows raised. It was harmless, but Jungkook was definitely flirting with you. He was attractive, sure and seemed nice, but he lived in LA and you had a boyfriend. You should probably leave before things had the chance to go any further. The last thing you needed was another complication. Adjusting your bag, you gave Jungkook a small smile.

“Sounds like a plan,” you said before turning away.

Jungkook chuckled from behind. “Bye, Y/N.”

As you joined Noelle at the door, she stared over your shoulder.

“What?” you said, coming to a stop.

Noelle’s gaze moved to yours in disbelief. “How?” she demanded as you exited class. “How do you have all these men just… tripping over themselves for you?”

Heat rising to your face, you shook your head. “That’s – I,” you sputtered. “You’re being ridiculous!”

“Am I?” Noelle grinned. “First Jimin, now Jungkook… and all this while having a boyfriend.”

“I… you... Jimin is not tripping over himself for me!”

Both her brows shot way, way up. “Is that the only part of the sentence you took objection to?”

“Shut up,” you groaned and shoved her in the side.

Noelle laughed but nodded. “Alright, fine! I’ll stop. Did Sabrina say she’ll come?”

“She did.”

“Great. I still don’t like her,” Noelle said, pushing open the door. “But I guess you’re right, I have an extra ticket. It’s nice to be nice.”

You laughed, pulling your coat tighter as you walked outside. “You’re a saint.”

While you walked, your phone dinged and pulling this from your pocket, you saw a notification on Instagram. Jeon_Jungkook97 has followed you.

Shaking your head, you returned this to your jacket as you continued. While it was nice of Jungkook to compliment your dancing, his approval didn’t mean as much as certain other peoples had. This realization stuck in your mind, making you wonder about Noelle’s teasing jibe.

She had said Jimin flirted with you, but that wasn’t true – was it? You would have known if Jimin were flirting. It was hard to pick out though, since Jimin was friendly with everyone. That was just who he was; as he’d said earlier, he liked to be liked. A note of uncertainty entered your thoughts though, recalling the ballet class with your chest pressed to his. Shoving this away, you forced yourself to focus on the upcoming weekend.

Halloween was a night for fun, for letting loose and enjoying yourself with your friends. You refused to let the night be spoiled by any lingering feelings – either from you, or towards you.

The next night was perfect Halloween weather.

Chilly, but not cold enough to risk snow falling. There were several Halloweens from childhood you could recall trick-or-treating with a winter coat flung over your costume because the temperature had dropped below freezing.

You, Noelle and Irene showed up to Paulo’s house around 8:00 PM, shivering a little while you stood on his doorstep. Paulo was one of the few freshmen who lived off-campus, having known several upperclassmen before he came to Russet. The brownstone he lived in was cute, with window boxes you imagined hosted flowers in the summer.

Tugging your pink and black minidress down, you adjusted your bow as Paulo opened the door.

Blinking, he took in your costumes. “The Powerpuff girls!” He cheered, raising an arm overhead. “Try not to take down any of the villains upstairs, yeah?”

“No promises,” said Irene, flicking hair over her shoulder.

Entering the house, you heard thumping bass from an apartment upstairs. Paulo lived on the third floor and as you climbed the steps, the music grew louder. It took Paulo two tries to shove open the door – “warped wood,” he explained – but once you were inside, you saw familiar faces.

“The Powerpuff girls!” Jasmine cried, jumping up from the couch. “Finally! Thank god – can you take down Eamon? He came here dressed as a potato, or something.”

“It’s an avocado!” Eamon shouted from the kitchen. He was dressed in a round, green costume with a halo overhead. “I’m ‘holy guacamole’ – get it?” he said, pointing at the halo.

Jasmine stared at him a moment. “That’s terrible. Worse than mine,” she said with a wave down her body. “I’ve been Princess Jasmine for the past five Halloweens. It’s easy to remember and I already have the outfit.”

Laughing, you shrugged off your coat and added this to a pile on the couch. “It’s a classic,” you agreed as you turned.

Noelle had managed to procure at least twenty tickets to the party tonight, so a lot of your freshman Russet class was in attendance. Including Sabrina, who stood in the corner, talking to Louis over cups of red punch. She looked up when you entered, pausing before she gave a small wave. Surprised by the gesture, you did the same.

“No.” Noelle groaned, coming to a stop alongside you. When you looked, you saw she’d already removed her coat. “Tell me Sabrina didn’t come to this party dressed as a ballerina.”

“We did invite her at the last minute,” you laughed. “Hard to find a good Halloween costume in a day.”

“Hey,” Noelle argued. “There’s no we here. You were the one who invited her, and you’ll be the one to accept the consequences should your social experiment fail.”

“Done,” you agreed. “Speaking of social experiments though, I’m ready to get drunk tonight. Where’s the alcohol?”

“Kitchen!” Irene called, brushing past. “Or – that’s where Brian disappeared to when we entered, so I can only assume.”

Telling Noelle you’d be back with drinks, you wound through the room towards where Irene had pointed. The kitchen was tiny, on par with most city apartments. There was only room enough for one or two people, so you were lucky it was deserted when you entered.

Surveying the counter, you found the usual party staples. A bowl of red punch, a bunch of beer and various liquor bottles with chasers. Skipping over the communal punch bowl, you reached for a bottle of diet coke and coconut rum.

“Oh,” a voice said as they entered the kitchen. “Sorry – I didn’t know you were in here.”

Glancing up, you saw Jimin and froze.

He’d dyed his hair black – that was the first thing you noticed. Jimin’s hair was no longer blonde, but completely dark. His outfit confused you at first – a frilly, white blouse with slicked-back hair and dark trousers – until you saw his bright red contacts and the dribble of blood at his mouth.

“A vampire,” you said, finally recovering your voice. Scanning his body, you frowned. “Where are the teeth, though?”

Jimin blinked, his gaze jerking up from your waist.

“Huh?” he said, sounding a bit strangled.

Cheeks heating a little – your dress was pretty short – you repeated yourself. “The teeth,” you said, pointing at your own lips. “Don’t vampires have fangs?”

“Oh, right.” Jimin dug around in his pocket – fuck, were his trousers tight – to produce twin fangs. “I took them off when I got here. They’re really hard to talk in.”

“Go on then, Park,” you said with a grin. “Put them in.”

“One second.” Twisting to face the wall, Jimin popped them in his mouth. Turning around, he bared his teeth. “Sexy?”

With the teeth in though, the word came out more like shex-shie and you burst into laughter. “So sexy,” you agreed, reaching past him for a cup.

Jimin stiffened when your arm brushed his front. Unbidden, you thought about what Noelle had said – Jimin had been flirting with you. Pulling away, you resumed making your drinks and tried not to look in his direction.

Even so, you remained aware of his presence. Jimin inched his way behind you, reaching for the whiskey on the other side. His arm brushed your elbow as he went, right knee nudging yours in an intimate gesture.

Glancing up from the counter, you accidentally caught his gaze. Despite your earlier joking, he did look sexy. Devastatingly so. Even the blood-red contacts weren’t enough to deter the shiver which ran down your spine.

Shaking yourself free from your trance, you grabbed both cups and pulled back.

“So, what’re you drinking?” you asked.

You decided it was best to steer the conversation away from how sexy Park Jimin was or was not.

Seemingly oblivious to your inner turmoil, Jimin poured whiskey into his cup. “Whiskey and coke. Can you pass me that bottle?”

“Sure,” you said, leaping at the chance to prevent him from walking past you again. “Here you go.”

Pushing this forward, you watched Jimin pour both drinks all the way to the brim. He paused near the end, staring into the depths before he looked up. He seemed to be warring with something, debating whether or not to speak whatever was on his mind.

“So…” He paused. “Do you know Jungkook, or something?”

You blinked. “Jungkook…?”

“You know, Miss Luna’s assistant. Jeon Jungkook.”

“Oh! Jungkook. No, I don’t really know him.”

“You were talking to him at the end of class, though?”

Hearing the curiosity in his voice, both your brows raised. “And?”

“And nothing,” Jimin said, sounding uncomfortable. “I just… I didn’t know you knew him, that’s all.”

“I mean, I don’t.” You paused. “But even if I did, what does it matter?”

“It doesn’t.” His cheeks began to redden. “It’s just – ah, never mind. We don’t have that great a history, that’s all. He’s kind of the reason I’m at Russet this year.”

You stared at Jimin a moment. “Wow, what a tragedy,” you said, stifling a laugh. “To have been forced to attend one of the most prestigious dance institutions in the world.”

His upper lip twitched. “It’s not that. I was deciding between attending Russet and accepting a job offer out west. I was asked to join this pop star on tour… anyways, Jungkook’s never liked me much. It’s a long story.” Jimin’s brow furrowed. “My offer was rescinded at the last minute. The artist never said why, but I always got the feeling he had something to do with it.”

You stared at Jimin a moment, unsure how to respond. Jungkook hadn’t seemed like that kind of person, but you supposed you’d only talked to him for a few minutes. If that was true, what happened to Jimin sucked and yet, the next words from your mouth nearly had you face-palming.

“And here I thought I was your biggest rival, Park,” you said.

Jimin’s eyes widened. “Are you… jealous, Y/N?”

He sounded almost pleased by the notion, which sent a different kind of shiver down your spine.

“Not at all,” you said quickly, turning back to your drinks.

Jimin made a soft tsk-ing sound, as though he didn’t believe you.

“That sucks,” you continued, determined to change the subject. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“Yeah. Maybe it was all for the best, though. Things happen for a reason, right?”

Looking up, you caught Jimin’s stare. He didn’t look immediately away and you got the oddest sensation he meant more than what he said. Hastily, you pushed this feeling aside, clutching your drinks as you entered the main room. Jimin followed close behind, two cups in his hands.

“When did you get here?” you asked. “Been here long?”

Jimin shook his head. “Nah. Hoseok and I got here like, ten minutes ago. He should be around here somewhere, he –”

“Y/N!”

You looked up just in time to see Hoseok, Jimin’s roommate, barreling towards you.

“It’s been so long!” Crushing you to his chest, Hoseok wrapped you in a hug. “Hope Jimin isn’t boring you to death,” he stage-whispered before he pulled away.

“Just for that.” Jimin arched a brow. “Both these drinks are for me.”

“No – wait, wait. I’m sorry!” Hoseok pouted. “Hand over the drink, Park. It’s been the longest fucking week.”

Jimin grinned and relented, handing Hoseok his cup as you laughed. Hoseok was a newer friend, but he was close to Jimin, so he’d gradually bled into your latest gatherings. Despite not being on the ballet track, most of the dancers at Russet knew of him. Hoseok had that way about him.

Glancing down at your outfit, Hoseok held up a finger. “Let me guess – Blossom,” he said, turning to scan the room. “Which means… aha! Irene is Bubbles and Noelle is Buttercup. Makes sense.”

“And you are…” Pausing, you squinted at his outfit. “Someone at the spa?”

“Sure.” Hoseok shrugged. “Honestly, I just wanted to wear a bathrobe.”

Said bathrobe was paired with only boxers, the front of the robe open to display his toned abs. The costume didn’t surprise you, based on past interactions with Hoseok.

Casually, he twirled the robe tie in a circle. “Impressive, no?” Hoseok glanced away. “Whoa, wait – they have beer pong? See you all later!”

Hurrying off, he left you alone with Jimin. Shaking your head, you glanced in his direction and saw Jimin down his whole drink. Arching a brow, you were about to ask why when Irene called your names from across the room.

“Y/N!” She waved her hands. “Jimin! Get over here, you two – we need more for flip cup!”

You found yourself pulled in this direction despite your insistence you didn’t do well under pressure. Jimin ended up at the other end of the table and you lost sight of him when you started to play, paired with Jasmine for a partner.

By the end of the first round, you discovered you weren’t as horrible a player as you’d imagined. Then someone suggested mixed drinks for the second round, and things became fuzzier. There were more people present than just current students of Russet. One of Paulo’s roommates knew Seokjin, so you saw him in the room, along with Sana.

You chatted with both over the course of the evening, in addition to a guy who’d recently debuted on Broadway, Kim Taehyung. Apparently, there was already buzz around him for a Tony. Taehyung was nice, but it was sometime during this conversation you realized how tipsy you were. Apparently, not drinking for several months and then going ham made for very low tolerance.

Collapsing onto the couch, you joined Irene and Brian’s conversation. In the corner of your eye, you caught sight of Noelle – a terrible flip cup player, she’d roped Hoseok into giving her private lessons, but these seemed to be going terribly. Or perhaps very well, given how much the two of them were laughing.

You completely forgot about Jimin until you spotted him across the room talking to Sabrina. Seeing them together, you straightened. Both seemed fairly comfortable, which struck you as odd. Since that morning in Jimin’s dorm, you hadn’t really seen them hang out together.

Despite this, Jimin was laughing at something Sabrina had said. Tearing your gaze away, you forced yourself to focus on the conversation at hand. It didn’t matter who Jimin spoke to, or even who he decided to go home with tonight. He was your dance partner and friend, nothing more and besides – you had a boyfriend.

Blinking, you reached into your clutch and pulled out your phone. To your disappointment, you’d gotten no texts from Finn since this morning. You assumed he was still at his party but didn’t know for sure. Shooting him a text, hey, you waited for a response and when you got none, returned your phone to your purse.

Across the room, you heard Noelle yell your name. “Y/N!” She cupped her mouth with both hands. “We need another person for flip cup!”

Laughing, you pushed yourself from the couch and were immediately roped into your fourth game of the night. The night blurred again after that, turning into a pleasant hum of conversation and booze. At some point, Ubers were called to bring you to the club. As you rushed downstairs, you realized you forgot your coat as soon as you stepped outside.

Shivering violently, you rubbed your arms and cursed yourself for poor foresight.

“Y/N?” Jimin came to a stop alongside you. “Hey, where’s your coat?”

“Inside,” you said through chattering teeth. “I-it’s fine, though. I’m fine!”

Jimin gave you a look. “Where’s Paulo?” he said, glancing around. “I’ll grab him, we can get your coat before we go –”

“The Uber’s already here, though,” you argued, grabbing his sleeve to drag him towards the curb. “I’ll be fine from here to the club!”

Jimin sighed but gave in, following when you rushed to the grey SUV. Irene had claimed the front seat, so you and Jimin pulled open the middle door – Noelle and Hoseok were crowding behind you, so you and Jimin ended up together in the backseat.

Collapsed in a heap, you giggled as Jimin tried to squish himself in a corner. “Sorry,” he said, trying – and failing – to keep his knees separate.

“Jimin.” You snorted. “Are we going to go through this again? Your hands have been in way more inappropriate places than that this semester.”

Jimin’s lips parted, shocked, but you were already hoisting yourself over the middle seat. Draping your arms next to Noelle, you begged her to play your favorite song on the radio. Had you been more sober, you might’ve recognized your position to be precarious – perched on the edge of your seat, your ass hovered inches away from Jimin’s face.

Plopping back down, you glanced sideways at Jimin and found him frozen. Suddenly, you realized the visual he’d had.

“Um, so what happened to the teeth?” you blurted, determined to change the subject.

Jimin blinked and managed to meet your gaze. “Casualty of flip cup,” he said. “One of them fell out during the game and I couldn’t find where it rolled.”

“Well, that’s okay. You can just be one of those vampires who blend in with normal humans. You know, the kind whose fangs only come out when they want to bite someone.”

“That’s true.” Jimin arched a brow. “Lucky for you, I’m not hungry.”

“Lucky for me? Lucky for you,” you retorted. “My blood is about half alcohol right now. If you drank my blood, you’d be a very silly vampire.”

The idea of a silly vampire made you laugh – even more so when you pictured said vampire as Jimin. He seemed much too coherent for your liking right now.

“A silly vampire, huh?” Jimin looked on, amused. “Damn, Y/N – when was the last time you went out? Your tolerance is shit.”

“I know,” you sighed. “I haven’t drunk much this semester. Too much dance, too little time. I think the last time I went out was –”

“We’re here!” squealed Noelle, throwing open the door.

A blast of cold air hit you and you shivered, wishing you’d worn your coat. Jimin’s gaze remained steady on yours.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he said lowly. “I can give you, uh…”

“Your shirt?” you said dryly, lifting a brow as you brushed past. “Then you’d be shirtless, Park. Let’s think this through.”

Jimin chuckled before he followed suit, although you cursed as soon as you left the car. He was correct. It was freezing, even with your alcohol-induced blanket.

“Come on!” you yelped, following Noelle towards the entrance.

Bypassing the line, Noelle walked straight towards the bouncer and showed him her phone. He nodded and waved her past, counting your friend group who followed. Not everyone from Paulo’s place had gone to the club, but enough for you to make quite the entrance.

“Y/N!” Noelle doubled back to link arms with you. “Come on – this way! That guy’s going to show us to our table.”

“Table?” you asked her, wide-eyed.

Tables in a club on Halloween night were ridiculously expensive, but it seemed Noelle had downplayed her brother’s connections. Your group was led right to the front of the upper balcony, getting a coveted spot overlooking the dance floor below.

This was undeniably the coolest club you’d been in. Not that you’d been in many, mind you, but this one had to take the cake. A half-circle of tables took up the top floor, with twin staircases descending to the main room below. Most of the lower floor was for dancing, although you saw additional tables pushed to the sides. Fluorescent bars and dance platforms were dotted throughout and above all was the DJ booth, blasting the latest songs.

“Whoa,” you breathed.

Noelle grinned, squeezing your arm to pull you into the booth. As soon as you settled in, Jasmine leapt up and clapped her hands.

“I want to be in one of those!” she said, pointing to a glowing cage at the center of the dance floor.

“Oo, me too!” Irene leapt up to join her.

“Me, three!” said Paulo, clambering out of the booth.

“Awesome.” Irene beamed and glanced your way. “What about you, Y/N? You in?”

The idea was tempting for a moment, but then Finn flashed through your mind. You highly doubted he’d be on board with you gyrating for a room full of strangers without him. Somewhat dejectedly, you plopped back on the bench.

“That’s okay,” you sighed. “I think I’m going to stay here for a while. I’ll join you later!”

Irene frowned but nodded, following the rest when they left for the stairs. About half the group went, clearing out the table while you stared at the dance floor.

Jimin slid into the bench alongside you. “You don’t want to dance?”

Startled, you glanced in his direction. While you watched, Jimin began to undo his cuffs, casually rolling the sleeves of his shirt. His hair, which had been slicked back at the start of the night, was starting to fall. Several dark strands hung over his forehead, although this only seemed to make the look more appealing.

“No,” you said, crossing your legs. “I just… don’t really feel like it.”

“Is this the whole hating clubs thing again?”

“Kind of.” You laughed. “I don’t know. Club dancing isn’t like normal dancing, you know?”

“It is when you’re at the club with all dancers,” Jimin pointed out, nodding towards the floor.

Following his gaze, you saw Jasmine dancing full-out in a lit-up cage. She wasn’t so much gyrating as she was creating choreography on the fly. The mere mortals around her looked on in awe. Fighting a smile, you returned to Jimin.

“Okay, that does look like fun,” you admitted. “The last time I was at a club was with Finn.”

Jimin blinked. “Sorry – what?”

“In the cab,” you said, leaning closer in order to be heard. “You asked me when I last went out. It was that night… um, the night you came and picked me up.”

Jimin stared at you a moment, as though contemplating something important. Abruptly, he stood and held out a hand. You blinked at this like he’d offered a football.

“What are you doing?” you said, glancing up.

“Taking you down to the dance floor.” Jimin retracted said hand. “Come on, Y/N! You don’t have to give out dry lap dances, or whatever.”

“Hey!” In disbelief, your mouth fell open. “You said you’d forget all about that!”

His smile turned impish. “Seriously, we can just do the sprinkler, or something. It’ll be fun!”

“The sprinkler?” Starting to laugh, you stood. “Was that really the first move you thought of?”

“Nah. My go-to move is the criss-cross, but I figured this was more your speed.”

Snorting, you shoved him in the arm before following Jimin to the dance floor. It didn’t take you long to spot your other friends, clustered near the front and around the DJ booth.

“Y/N!” Noelle cheered, breaking off from the pack. “You made it!”

She nearly spilled her drink while she danced, catching herself just in time as she spun around. You grinned, entering the circle with Jimin by your side. He did, in fact, pull out the criss-cross – Hoseok joined in and soon, there was a Fortnite dance battle between them. You truly haven’t lived until you’ve seen a TikTok dance-off between two semi-professional dancers.

This ended with both declaring mutual defeat, and Hoseok disappearing to buy the next round. Noelle shimmied her way over to Jasmine, accepting the hand given to stand on the platform.

You laughed at their ridiculous dance moves, choosing instead to stay on the ground. The crowd around you had thinned since you’d joined. Eamon disappeared a few minutes later, saying something about needing a drink upstairs. Before long, Irene had joined Jasmine and Noelle on the platform, leaving you alone with Jimin on the floor.

Under other circumstances, you might have felt uncomfortable, but Jimin was so good at putting you at ease. Determined to keep you in the present, he came up with more and more complicated dance moves which had you snorting with laughter.

On a particularly flamboyant spin, Jimin accidentally smacked the drink from someone’s grasp. Blue vodka splattered everywhere, drenching its owner – a burly man in leather who snarled in frustration.

Looking up, he met your gaze and his eyes narrowed.

“Shit. Run!” you blurted out.

Grabbing Jimin by the arm, you dragged him into the crowd.

“No, wait – let me apologize!” Jimin tried to twist around. “I can pay for his drink! I can –”

Once there was suitable distance between you and the guy, you came to a stop. Laughing so hard you nearly fell over, you turned sideways to face him.

Bodies pressed against you from every side but rather than feel claustrophobic, all you could think about was Jimin before you. His hair had become thoroughly mussed during the night and you fought the sudden desire to smooth it down.

Although your breath came hard, the club around you seemed to slow. The music somehow had narrowed to pinpricks, a heady thump of bass while everything dulled.

What you should’ve done was taken a step back – but you didn’t.

Instead, your gaze drifted across his face. Jimin stared back, something intense to his gaze you couldn’t quite name. Breath caught in your throat, his eyes dropped to your lips.

Before you could react, someone bumped into you from behind, sending you careening forward. Jimin caught you easily, one arm around your waist and your chest pressed to his. You could feel every hard line of his body, his thigh wedged between your legs while you grasped at his arms. Heart thudding traitorously against your ribcage, you tried to ignore the emotions which followed.

It was impossible.

The song playing was slower, sexier than the one which had inspired the dance-off. Without meaning to, your weight subtly shifted. This caused your hips to move against his as Jimin quietly sucked in a breath. The effect this had on him was instantaneous. His grip on you tightened, gaze heady with desire and something more. Before you could second-guess what you were doing, you moved your hips again – this time, on purpose.

Jimin’s eyes darkened. Without looking away, his grip on you tightened as he slowly dragged you up his thigh. Suddenly breathless, your hands gripped him tighter while your eyes fluttered shut. The heat of his body on yours, the faint smell of cologne and sweat, the tension in his limbs and the knowledge of what he could do to you – it all left your head spinning.

“Y/N,” Jimin murmured, low in your ear.

You weren’t used to him saying your name like that.

You were used to him saying your name in every other way, but not that. Sharp with dancer’s critique, brusque with instruction, light with teasing – but not like something heavy was lodged in his throat. Maybe his heart.

Panicked, your eyes flew open.

What were you doing? This wasn’t some random stranger and this sure as hell wasn’t your boyfriend. This was Jimin. Stumbling backwards, you broke from his hold. Jimin seemed equally stunned, staring at you on the dance floor.

“I have to go,” you blurted and whirled around.

Shoving into the crowd, you heard Jimin emit a soft groan. Despite this, he didn’t immediately pursue, for which you were grateful. Stumbling through strangers, strobe lights flashed brightly overhead. You squeezed between someone dressed as a go-go and another person dressed as a werewolf. Skidding to a stop on the edge of the floor, you scanned the room and saw no one from Russet.

When you glanced over your shoulder, you saw Jimin now followed. Panicking again, you began to move. Beside one of the bars, you spotted a hallway labeled restrooms. Heading in this direction, you quickly disappeared inside the door marked women.

Once inside, you locked yourself in a stall, lowered the lid and sat down. Head in hands, you slowly exhaled. You were a coward; that much was clear. Jimin was probably out there looking for you right now, but you’d rather hide in a bathroom than face him.

The fluorescent lighting overhead was too bright – it made you feel overexposed. After a long moment, you fished around in your purse and pulled out your phone. Flipping to your thread with Finn, you saw he’d sent no response since your text. Complete and utter silence.

Heart cracking a little, you slid this in your bag and stared at the door. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. When you imagined you and Finn at college, you’d always pictured you together, attending the same parties and sharing the same adventures. Tonight though, had proven to be anything but that. Finn hadn’t once glanced at his phone judging by the unread mark next to your text.

Dimly, you wondered why you weren’t more upset about this. It should bother you that Finn hadn’t called or even texted throughout the day. Sure, he was out with friends, but so were you and you’d reached out – as soon as you thought this, your heart sank.

You weren’t sure you could call Jimin a friend after what had just happened.

Sure, you’d only danced, and it had only been for a second but still, guilt bloomed behind your ribcage. The idea of Finn doing the same thing with anyone else made your heart twist. You wouldn’t feel that way if what you’d done wasn’t wrong.

Groaning out loud, you lowered your head to your hands. After several minutes, you felt calm enough to stand and pretend-flush the toilet. As you exited the stall, you walked to the sink and began washing your hands. Staring at yourself in the mirror, a million things ran through your mind.

Clearly, the situation with Jimin was worse than you’d thought. The spark you’d felt kept returning, no matter how much you tried to ignore it. Maybe the only solution was to find a new partner. The very idea made your heart sink, but you couldn’t deny things had gotten out of hand.

Before you could seriously consider the option, the door to the bathroom flung open and banged against the wall. Sabrina stormed in, wiping both eyes with the heel of her hand. You froze, staring at her in the mirror but she didn’t seem to notice your presence.

When she finally lowered her hands and took a deep breath, she saw you and froze.

For a moment, you both only stared at each other and then – you coughed. Awkwardly, you began to dry your hands.

“Are you okay?” you asked, tentative.

Sabrina stiffened. “I’m fine,” she muttered, walking to the sink.

You watched her wash her hands, struggling and failing to control her expression. Sabrina’s hair was a mess and you stared, wondering where she’d been. You hadn’t seen her since you’d entered the club, but had assumed she’d stayed on the second floor.

“Are you sure?” you pressed, remembering your night at the other club. “You know, you can –”

“Will you… just stop.” Sabrina closed her eyes. “Will you … stop pretending like we’re friends, or something?”

Struck with disbelief, you could only stare. “I… are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“Wow.” You shook your head. “Just wow.”

Her lips tightened and finally, she whirled around. “What?” Sabrina demanded. “What is it?”

The look in her eyes was familiar. Her frustrated, angry look was mirrored in your expression, but you found you didn’t care. Sabrina was clearly going through something, but her rudeness to you was the final straw. Tired from Finn, Jimin and the constant pressure you were both under, something about Sabrina’s words made you break.

“Why are you always such a… such a bitch,” you blurted, hurling the word like a knife. “What did I ever do to you? Why do you always act like you hate me so much?”

Sabrina’s upper lip curled. “Why do you always think this is about you, Y/N? Maybe I just wanted one second of peace and instead, here you are. Like always.”

“Here I am, in the public restroom of a club we’re all at?”

“No. Here you are in my life,” she snapped, pushing herself from the sink. “People won’t talk to me? It’s because you’ve run your mouth about things you think I’ve done. I’m falling in the class ranks? It’s because you’re after my spot. Jimin doesn’t want to be my partner? It’s because of his feelings for you. I’m sick of turning around and always seeing you there!”

“Okay, but none of those things – I, Jimin doesn’t have feelings for me,” you sputtered.

Sabrina gave you a look. “Oh, please, Y/N.” Her laughter was harsh. “Why else would he turn me down?”

“Um, maybe because he’s a decent human being? Unlike yourself.”

“Great, yeah.” Sabrina glared. “Make me the bad guy again.”

“I’m not the one doing that,” you huffed. “You are. You want to blame me because no one wants to be your friend? Maybe try reaching out first. Maybe don’t talk shit about people behind their backs. And I’m improving because I’m taking extra lessons. No thanks to you, of course.”

“Don’t try and make me feel bad because I didn’t have time to give you lessons.”

“I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I’m trying to explain why I’m improving and you’re not.”

Sabrina bristled. “Are you saying I don’t work hard, too?”

“No.” Mirthless, you laughed. “I know you work hard – maybe even as hard as I do. But you know what the big difference is between you and me?” you said, drawing yourself to your full height.

Sabrina’s eyes glimmered while she stared you down. Still, she retained her aloofness when she said, “What? What’s the big secret?”

“You think everyone’s out to get you,” you said, stepping closer. “You think not asking for help makes you stronger, but it’s the exact opposite. At least I’ve improved since the start of the year. What have you done?”

Not waiting for an answer, you pushed past Sabrina and walked out the door.

Shoving it wide, you entered the hallway. Dance music flooded your senses and you winced, remembering where you were and what you’d been doing. Luckily, Jimin was nowhere in sight. He must not have seen where you’d disappeared to.

Shoulders slumping, you pulled out your phone and dialed a number. Walking to the front, you concentrated on breathing while you waited for them to pick up. Coming to a stop beside coat check, you didn’t leave the club – a lesson you’d learned the hard way.

Noelle answered on the third ring. “Babe?” she yelled, barely audible over the din. “What’s going on? Where are you?”

“Are you…” Closing your eyes, you paused. “Can we leave?”

Noelle paused, then muffled her phone with one hand. “Irene!” you heard her yell. “You good to get a ride home for these people? Okay, cool. Bye!” Her phone became un-muffled. “Where are you, babe?”

After explaining your location, you hung up and hugged yourself with both arms. Noelle burst into view a few moments later, scanning the crowd like a mom on a mission. When she saw you, she rushed over – and you promptly burst into tears.

“Oh, no!” Pulling you into a hug, Noelle began to rub your back. “No, no, babe! Don’t cry! What’s going on? Do I need to kick someone’s ass?”

Hearing Jimin’s words said by Noelle only made you cry harder. Wisely sensing this to be a problem not easily solved, Noelle continued rubbing your back while walking towards the exit.

The two of you went outside and, as luck would have it, saw a group of people arriving at the club. Noelle snagged their taxi, helping you in the backseat and giving the driver your address. As you settled against her, your head on her shoulder, Noelle kept rubbing your arm and waited for the tears to stop.

You weren’t really sure why you were crying.

Of course, Sabrina was terrible, as was the situation with Jimin, but it was more than that. Dancing with Jimin hadn’t caused problems in your relationship with Finn. There had been problems in your relationship Finn and so, feelings had crept in which led you to dance with Jimin.

More than that though, you couldn’t help but notice Noelle had come to your aid much faster than Finn ever had. Even Jimin had dropped everything when you asked, and he was someone you’d once called your enemy. Noelle had been having fun, but she’d cut her night short because you were upset. This knowledge crushed you and for the very first time, you realized your relationship with Finn might be unfixable.

Curled up on the backseat, you let yourself cry a bit more. You could be calm and rational in the morning, you decided but for now, you just felt defeated.

When you finally climbed into bed at your dorm at night, you looked at your phone and saw Finn still hadn’t texted.

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! 😊 New chapters of Raise the Barre are posted weekly; dates are listed on the series Master List. Requests for updates will be deleted.

RAISE THE BARRE MASTERLIST

#bangtanarmynet #btsbookclub #jimin fanfic #bts fanfic #jimin au #bts au #jimin writing #bts writing #jimin series #jimin e2l #bts series #bts e2l #jimin dance au #bts dance au

1K notes · View notes

nxrthmizu · 3 years ago

Text

Second Place ; Miya Osamu.

fandom | haikyuu!!

pairing | miya osamu x fem!reader

w.c | 2.2k

genre | fluff

warning(s) | slightly suggestive, implied sexual content

author's note | i've been wanting to write this for a while! so here it is <3 it's not beta read and I didn't use a lot of metaphorical filling so it's not that poetic but eh Idc bc ✨ self indulgence ✨

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Once upon a time, Miya Osamu swore that he would never settle for second place again— He was never going to let another Miya score first place while he stood in the shadows. The twins had split paths after graduation, stepping onto stages where they'd never have to compete against each other for the spotlight again.

... Okay, who was he kidding. He'd be compared to Atsumu for his whole life— It wasn't like a different career would change that. Besides, his aunts were way too bored to not spin up something about him and his brother during family gatherings.

"Atsumu's making more money, isn't he?"

Well duh, he was a professional volleyball player, of course he made more money— Osamu wanted to roll his eyes in front of his aunts to make sure they understood that he heard their hushed whispers— But then again, he was an adult now, and he knew better than to stoop that low.

The comforting grip you had on his wrist also helped.

Things did get slightly better for him, though.

"Atsumu, your brother's already married," Osamu overheard his second aunt say to his twin during his wedding reception, "When are you going to settle down?"

The grey-haired Miya couldn't help but have a grin on his face for the entire night. Granted, the fact there was a silver ring on your finger also helped. You were absolutely radiant that night, and Osamu couldn't have been happier to finally be able to introduce you as his spouse.

Osamu's marriage did tilt more pressure towards his twin's way, because not more than half a year later, Atsumu caved in and found a sweet little thing to share his life with. The setter had had a couple flings here and there in his earlier years— But none of them ever lasted that long, and Atsumu had never introduced them to his brother, which is how Osamu knew that his twin really cared about the girl when the golden-haired man visited Onigiri Miya with her hanging on his arms.

If he didn't have the decency to help his brother maintain a good image, Osamu would've straight-up snorted at how tense his twin was when he served onigiri up onto their table, the shop empty with the exception of one table. It was almost like Atsumu was seeking Osamu's approval— Which was hilarious enough without the fact that the setter was nervous about it.

At the end of the night, it was as if the weight of the world was lifted off Atsumu's shoulders. Kaoru— The name of Osamu's potential sister-in-law— Got along wonderfully with you, who kept the shy-but-bright woman entertained as Osamu dragged his twin into the kitchen to make fun of him.

"Oh, go easy on him," You elbowed him lightly as the two of you closed up the shop for the night, wiping down the tables and tucking the chairs in. "Atsumu genuinely cares about her, he's making an effort!"

Osamu let out the snort he had held in for most of the evening. "I wouldn't be his brother if I didn't make fun of him."

"Boys." You muttered, just loud enough for him to hear. You had been around to catch the tail-end of some of Atsumu's previous relationships, so you could tell that Kaoru was different; In a way, Atsumu looked at her the same way Osamu eyed a nice piece of mackerel in the grocery shop.

"I heard that! C'mere," Osamu grinned, tackling you from the back. A smile burst across his lips when a giggle erupted from your lips, a cloth rag smacking him in the face when you tried to wriggle away from his hold. "You aren't getting away, pumpkin. Save your energy for later."

He wriggled his eyebrows suggestively, yelping when he was smacked with the rag again.

"There won't be a later if you keep that up." You warned, laughing when horror instantly swept over his expression. His protests echoed in your ears as you thought about how this marriage was something you'd never regret. Yes, it was rough because his business took off on a rocky road, but you knew there was no gain without pain, so you hung on and saw him through to the fruits of his labour.

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

The next family meeting was graced with the presence of Kaoru, who, in turn, had been graced with your advice.

"Dress decently, do not wear black," You had warned her the night before on the phone, grimacing at the memory of your first Miya family dinner. No one had aunts more judgemental than the Miya twins. "I would suggest going with a dress. Oh, and it might help to bring a gift. A bottle of Ginseng Wine might be a good idea."

"We're here," Osamu parked the car outside the family home, subconsciously wincing at the sight of his aunts' vehicles. "... Ah. They’re here."

"I see they turned up early," You grimaced, "Atsumu and Kaoru-chan are going to have a brilliant night."

"Yup." Your husband grinned slightly at that, earning a smack for smiling at his brother's suffering. "Oh, he'll be fine. We'll mention that when Atsumu really needs saving." The wink he sent your way made your stomach butterflies flutter, but the warm touch of his fingers on your hand made them settle. "We'll be fine," Osamu's eyes softened as he met yours, reassuring you. "You've got me, remember? Worst case scenario, we'll just high-tail out of there and say we need to work tomorrow."

"Right," You released a breath of relief, interlocking your fingers with his. "Ready?"

"To see Atsumu suffer?" Osamu quipped. "Hell yeah."

And suffer did Atsumu. Kaoru wasn’t spared (of course she wasn’t—) and was judged from head-to-toe by the Miya's critical aunts. From the way they were eyeing her, you'd think they were the judges of Miss Universe instead of potential aunt-in-laws. Despite that, Kaoru braved the storm and stood strong through the whole night, her resilience shining with her determination to be with the other Miya twin— Osamu nodded his approval at that.

After dinner, the family gathered in the living room, with the elderly seated on the cushioned couches while the twins were squashed together on a bean bag (that you had to convince them to share, because apparently they were adamant about pushing the other off of it). Kaoru and you managed to snag a small corner of a couch, stifling your laughter at the sour faces of your respective significant others.

"So, Kaoru-san," Four heads collectively flinched when the aunt opened her mouth, "What's your job? Yearly salary?"

"Um, I'm... I'm a newspaper editor," Kaoru fidgeted with the strap of her bag while you resisted the urge to snap at her to look as confident as she could if she didn't want the interrogation to go on for the rest of the night. A shy, nervous thing like her would only make the predator's lick their lips at the sight of easy prey.

"Oh! That makes sense," The woman sneered, Osamu's mother not-so-discreetly turning up the volume of the television in hopes that the conversation would be drowned out. "You definitely dress with the salary of an editor."

Offence flashed across Atsumu's face like lightning, but before he could start a fight to defend his girlfriend's honour, Osamu dragged his brother back onto the bean bag and stood up.

"Excuse me, everyone," Osamu put on his practiced customer-service smile flawlessly, capturing everyone's attention instantly. "Y/N and I have an announcement to make." His eyes met yours, and you nodded, a smile waltzing across your lips.

"Mother, father," You begin, addressing your in-laws like you addressed your own parents. Encouragement swirled in your blood as Osamu interlocked your hands and squeezed your fingers. "You're going to be grandparents."

It took a while for the news to kick in.

"Oh, that's wonderful!" Osamu's mother cried out, rushing to envelop you in a hug that you gracefully accepted. "Do you know the gender yet?"

"Of course not, mother." Osamu rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "We're not that far along yet."

"That's amazing! Congratulations!" Kaoru beamed brightly, not having picked up on Osamu's timely intervention.

"Thank you." You replied warmly.

"Well then, are you going to stop working?" The first aunt shot at you, smirking, coy as ever. She knew that you weren't the type to drop your job just because of an incoming child.

"Of course not." You replied easily, "What kind of spouse would I be if I couldn't help carry the financial burdens with my husband?"

She shut her trap instantly, huffing in fury. Osamu had never looked prouder.

The family rejoiced for a little longer, and from the tip of your ears, you heard Osamu gloating slightly about having reached another milestone earlier than his brother.

"I love you," Your husband murmured into the crook of your neck as the two of you cuddled in the warmth of your bed, too far for his aunts' sharp words to hurt you. "And our little boy in there.”

“How do you know it’s a boy?”

“... Father’s instinct.”

Months flew by in a blur, and so did doctor appointments, Sunday shopping trips with Kaoru as you left Atsumu to help Osamu in the restaurant. The pair would drive the half-an-hour trip from Osaka to Hyogo every weekend. This arrangement elicited a couple silly arguments between the twins, of course, but once you taught Kaoru the stern look that would make the two settle like guilty puppies with their tails between their legs— Those arguments became simple matters to handle.

“Have you thought of names yet?” Kaoru asked you while the two of you sipped on coffee.

“I have a couple in mind,” You smiled. “Osamu won’t stop going on about how he was right. The baby’s a boy.”

“Boys will be boys,” Kaoru rolled her eyes. Then, her expression changed to a wistful one. “This might sound odd, but… I just find myself thinking, sometimes… One day, I want what you and Osamu have.”

“... A happy marriage?” You raised an eyebrow, “Honey, you’re already on your way to one. Atsumu looks at you the same way ‘Samu looks at a bowl of gyudon. Or the way I look at a bucket of mint ice cream with peanut butter…”

Kaoru made a concerned look. “The baby sure craves some odd things.”

“You’ll experience this one day.” You returned pointedly. “Logically, I never would’ve thought of eating mint chocolate ice cream with peanut butter slathered on… But cravings are cravings. And it was surprisingly nice.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

After nine long months of waiting, Miya Tomohito was welcomed to the world. Osamu cried (Atsumu made fun of him for it before getting smacked by Kaoru— She was learning a lot from you). Both yours and Osamu’s parents wouldn’t stop gawking at your baby boy, with his little tuff of dark hair, his tightly-fisted hands and the slight cherry-red flush of his cheeks. You never thought you’d fall in love at first sight— But your son was living proof that you were wrong. From the first moment you held him in your arms, you had already given a piece of your heart for him to hold in his tiny little hands.

It quickly became a regular sight for frequent customers of Onigiri Miya to see Osamu walking around the shop, a sleeping baby boy strapped to his back. The two were inseparable. Once, you walked in on your husband having a full conversation with Tomohito, who was sucking on a spoon.

“I’m thinking of adding a twist to my tuna onigiri recipe,” Osamu said, as if he were talking to an adult and not a three-month old baby. “Do you think adding a squeeze of lemon juice will make it taste better?”

“Gwa.” Tomohito replied intelligently.

“Great suggestion, Tomo.”

“Mmm.”

“I see. We could go to the grocery store later to get some tuna and try that recipe tonight.”

“Ba.”

“You’re a genius, Tomo.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“I can’t believe you.” Osamu looked helpless. “You’re not… You’re not seriously doing this to me.”

“I’m completely serious.” You said firmly, having put your foot down with no room for argument.

“You’re really choosing him over me?” Your husband’s jaw dropped when you nodded solemnly. “I’m your husband!”

“And he’s my son.” You shot back instantly.

“You’re kicking me out of our bed for our son?”

“He’s sick!” You refuted. “I need him to be as close as possible to me. His fever hasn’t gone down completely yet and I can’t let him go back into his cot tonight. Besides, you might get sick if we all sleep in the same bed. Who’ll take care of the shop then?”

Osamu drooped visibly. He couldn’t believe what was happening— He had lost to a Miya once again— Now his son instead of his brother. “Fine.” He mumbled sadly. “Make your poor husband sleep on the couch.”

“It’s only for one night, ‘Samu.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Tomohito's name is written as 智仁. '智' means intelligence and '仁' means compassionate. I have a friend named Tomohito.

Also, when I was writing this I reminded myself to make sure I made the reader gender-neutral. That is, until I realised that I made the reader pregnant. I am an idiot.

haikyuu!! gen taglist: @haru-senji @hikari-writes @whootwhoot @folkloeren @definitely-yours @rirk-ke @animegirlweeb @cemeiia @haikyuushuffle

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!! fluff #haikyuu x reader #miya osamu #miya osamu fluff #miya osamu x reader #osamu x reader #osamu fluff #osamu x reader fluff #miya osamu x reader fluff #[ris writes]—✧#ris's works: [second place]—✧

388 notes · View notes

ridiculousn3sswrites · 3 years ago

Text

The End of the Night - My Princess Pt. 13

*Zendaya x Reader

*Summary: The night of the ball draws to an end, and Reader and Zendaya ‘retire’ to Reader’s chambers for the night.

*Warnings: Swearing, smut (lesbian sex, fingering, f/f oral, a lot of soft feelings during sex). Let me know if I missed anything!

*A/N: This is my first time writing f/f smut and jfc it took so long to do. If you skip the smut, you won’t miss anything plot-wise. Two more chapters to write and then we have to say bye to this series.

Tip Jar

Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Part Five || Part Six || Part Seven || Part Eight || Part Nine || Part Ten || Part Eleven || Part Twelve || Part Thirteen

**********

Once you’d managed to calm yourself enough to be presentable for the crowds, you let Zendaya know with a small tap to her arm. She pulled back just enough to look over your face, making sure that you were actually okay. “We could leave now. I’ll find an excuse for you, Princess.”

“No, I don’t want anyone to worry.”

“I’ll worry.”

“I promise you, Z, I’m fine. I’ll let you know if I need to leave,” you assured her. “Just a few more hours, and then we can leave. Besides, you still owe me a dance.”

Zendaya rolled her eyes at your weak attempt at reassurance, but nodded anyways. She let you pull yourself from her arms, but her small frown let you know that she didn’t like it. Of course she’d be worried about whether you were actually ready to go back to the ball, but it wasn’t exactly like you had a choice. You’d already been gone for a considerable amount of time, and people were bound to begin questioning your sudden disappearance. No, you needed to tend to your duties first.

You took a deep breath, rolling your shoulders and straightening your back. You looked to Zendaya with a soft smile. “It’s somewhat unsettling how quickly you can put on that facade, but I suppose you’re ready to go back to the event. As soon as my shift is over, we can leave.”

“I thought I said you owed me a dance,” you teased.

“Fine, one dance after my shift and then we’ll go,” she relented. This time, your smile was genuine at your little victory. You knew at the back of your mind that Zendaya was only trying to look out for your mental health, but you truly did want to dance with her at least once tonight. Zendaya led you out to the main ballroom, her hand giving the lightest touch to your lower back as you walked together. As soon as you were in view of others, though, the barely-there feeling left. Right, you had to be professional. Friends at the most.

That word always left a sour taste in your mouth when you had to use it for your relationship with Zendaya. Friends. While you started out that way, you hadn’t been friends for years now. Friends didn’t steal kisses whenever possible, looking at each other with far too much tenderness to be considered platonic. Friends didn’t hold each other at night, whispering promises of tomorrow and tender words until one of them fell asleep. You weren’t friends with Zendaya, no. You were friends with Prince Thomas - well, you were at least. You weren’t exactly sure where you stood now.

“Princess, your mind is elsewhere,” Zendaya commented as she led you to the floor. “There’s still time for me to make an excuse for you. You don’t have to do this if you’re not feeling up to it.”

“We’ve come too far for me to back out now,” you told her with a soft smile. “Though I would appreciate some water. I would want something stronger to calm my nerves but we both know how’d that look.”

“Of course. I’ll send someone to get you some. If you need to leave at any point-“

“I know, I know, I’ll send for you so we can leave,” you waved her off. You didn’t want to completely dismiss her, but her worry was becoming increasingly obvious and you didn’t want any questions to arise. “Zendaya, I promise you that I’m fine.”

Zendaya nodded, finally giving in to your insistence. She wouldn’t be able to be away from her post for much longer, and you were being stubborn as always. “Just let me get you the water and then you can go back to your thing.”

“I thought you were going to-“

“Let me do this for you.” There was no room for argument there, so you just nodded. Zendaya left you at the edge of the ball, disappearing for no more than a couple minutes before she returned with a glass of water. She watched as you drank, making eye contact with her every few seconds. Once the glass was empty, she took it back and took a step away. “I’ll find you when my shift is over. Take care of yourself.”

“I’d never dream of doing otherwise.”

“Your track record disagrees, Princess.” Her small smile drew a matching smile of your own, making you laugh at her slight jab.

“I’ll see you soon, go back to your job,” you told her, rolling your eyes even as you smiled. She kept looking back at you, even as she disappeared into the crowd, going back to her position by the doors.

“Aw, that was cute. She’s your guard, right?” You were startled out of your fond moment by someone right next to you. You looked out of the corner of your eye, not recognizing the voice as someone you’d talked to before you had your brief meltdown. Princess Letitia stood a few feet away from you, a small knowing smile on her face; though you didn’t know what exactly she knew. Sir Boyega stood close behind her, giving you a small smile and nodding his head when he caught your eye.

“Yeah, she is,” you said, fully turning to look at her. “Princess Letitia, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise. Thank you for the invitation. I apologize for my parents not getting to be here, but that means I got this guy to come with me instead.” She punctuated her sentence by pointing her thumb back at Sir Boyega.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Princess. I’m Sir John Boyega,” he said, nodding at you once again.

“I’m afraid my curiosity is getting the better of me. I must ask, is there something…” you tried to figure out how you could word this without offending the two, especially since this was your first time meeting them. And you wanted her to be your potential replacement as Prince Thomas’s fiancee. “Perhaps the two of you are here in a non-platonic way?”

“Ew, no!” Letitia immediately said, scrunching her nose at the thought.

“Don’t act like it’d be such a bad thing!” Sir Boyega cried out, offended at the princess’s reaction.

“No, we’re not together.” Princess Letitia pretended to gag at the thought. “He’s like my brother, we’ve known each other for years.”

“Yeah, went through schooling together and now I’m stuck as her chaperone when her parents can’t make it.” He rolled his eyes, making her lightly smack his arm. “Ow! What?!”

“You act like you don’t enjoy getting invited to fancy parties.”

“Okay, yes, I can definitely see the siblings thing now,” you interrupted their little argument with a laugh. You could see the way they immediately straightened up, trying to put on their proper act once again. You always loved seeing nobles drop their proper act, even if it was momentarily. “I hope you both are enjoying yourselves. Have you had the chance to talk with Prince Thomas yet?”

“Yeah, we have. It was nice seeing him again, and then I didn’t expect Harrison to be here too!” It was hard to miss the excitement in Letitia’s voice, and the obvious familiarity.

“Oh! I didn’t know the four of you knew each other,” you said, trying to be subtle in your attempt at getting more information. Sir Boyega and Letitia shared a slight look, and if you hadn’t been so attentive you would’ve missed it.

“Yeah, a few years ago they were being considered for a betrothal, but then it fell through during negotiations,” Sir Boyega explained, watching you closely. You could feel your heart drop, but you didn’t want to let it show. Instead, you just let your mouth fall open the slightest bit as a soft oh escaped you.

“I’m surprised Thomas didn’t mention it,” Letitia said. They’re watching to see how I’m going to react. What do they expect me to do? “It’s a good thing it didn’t work out, though. We’re still good friends, but he never looked at me the way he looks at you.”

You cocked your head slightly, waiting for her to elaborate, but she simply left it at that. Sir Boyega was quick to change the subject, instead talking about schemes Harrison managed to talk him into whenever the two men visited their kingdom. You quickly recounted some of your own adventures (what were Letitia and Sir Boyega going to do? Tell your parents?), talking about the night of the festival that your little group enjoyed. As you talked about the night with fondness, you found yourself fiddling with your bracelet - the same one Zendaya had gifted you that night - without even thinking.

It didn’t take long for Harrison to find your little group, a flute of something in hand as he greeted Sir John and Letitia with hugs. Harrison, never one to hide things from you (except the fact that Prince Thomas had actually been in betrothal talks before, apparently), was quick to jump in with his own stories. It took a while before you were finally able to catch his attention again.

“Harrison, where’s Prince Thomas at?” You questioned, scanning the crowd to see if you could find him. The thing was, Harrison and Prince Thomas generally stuck together, so not being able to find Prince Thomas easily was slightly worrying.

“Oh! He said he wasn’t feeling well so he retired early,” Harrison explained, taking another drink before turning to Letitia. “Princess, can I dance with you?”

Letitia accepted his hand, leaving you alone with her chaperone. The two of you made polite conversation, recounting stories you found interesting from your kingdoms. In a lull of silence, Sir Boyega decided to bite the bullet. “So, you and your guard then?”

“Excuse me?” You looked at him, eyes slightly narrowed as you tried to figure what game he was playing at here.

“Nah, don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone. It’s kind of obvious, though.”

“What do you mean?” You looked at Sir Boyega, worry evident despite his promise. If he’d just met you and could tell, then who else could?

“You,” he pointed at you, then at the general direction of Zendaya’s position, “look at her the same way Tom looks at you.” Once again, he was pointing at you, but quickly dropped his hand to avoid seeming rude.

“I wish people would stop saying that he looks at me a certain way.”

“Why?”

“Because it makes it seem like he’s in love with me.”

“Isn’t he?”

“I really hope not.” You had to be honest here. You’d just met Sir Boyega, but there was something about him that seemed genuine. Plus, what would he have to gain from exposing this? Your kingdoms were allies, how would a scandal in your kingdom benefit his own?

“He’s not a bad guy, you could do worse.”

“Trust me, I’m aware. Unfortunately, my heart belongs to another already,” you said. As if summoned by your words, you could see Zendaya approaching the two of you. You didn’t know how long you’d been there talking with Letitia and Sir Boyega, or how long Harrison had joined you for, but was her shift really over already?

“There it is,” Sir Boyega teased, a smile growing as he looked between you and Zendaya.

“What?” You asked in a small whine.

“That little look again. I’ve no idea how you’ve kept it a secret for this long.” You rolled your eyes, even though you could immediately understand why Sir Boyega got along with everyone else so well. He really just treated you like anyone else, and you’d just met the man. Was this what happens when you actually talked to people other than the ones you were forced to?

“You don’t even know how long it’s been!”

“I can guess it’s been a while. Look out, here she comes.” True to his words, Zendaya had finally managed to reach the two of you.

“Zendaya, your shift’s already done with?” You asked, ignoring Sir Boyega’s little self-satisfied smirk (okay, maybe you swatted him just the slightest bit).

“I was relieved early. Sir Johnson saw you run off and thought you’d need me more than the event would,” she explained.

“Now that’s cute.” Sir Boyega caught Zendaya’s attention from his teasing comment.

“I apologize, I don’t think we’ve properly met yet. Sir Boyega, right?” Zendaya asked, looking him over.

“Yes. Pleasure to meet you, Lady Zendaya,” he said. “Hope you don’t mind I’ve been hanging out with your princess while Haz whisked away my friend.”

“Not at all, I appreciate you keeping the Princess company,” Zendaya told him, nodding and obviously not understanding what he was hinting at. “I hope you don’t mind if I take her for a bit, I promised her a dance earlier.”

“Of course, feel free! I don’t want to intrude on your time with her,” he just kept going. He stepped back, motioning to Zendaya while he looked at you. “Go on then.”

“You’re insufferable,” you joked, even though your delivery was deadpan. His amused smile was enough to let you know he got the message.

“Funny, Letitia tells me the same thing.” You laughed, while Zendaya was just watching the interaction, confused. You took her hand, dragging her to the rest of the people dancing.

“You two seem to get along well. You haven’t met him before, right?” Zendaya asked once you settled in. One of your hands rested on her shoulder, while one of her arms was wrapped around your waist. She held your free hand in hers, leading you in time with the rhythm of the slow song the orchestra was playing.

“No, we haven’t, but he treats me normally,” you told her with a soft smile. “And apparently we aren’t as subtle as we think.”

“What do you mean?” She looked down at you, the slightest furrow to her brow as she thought over how you could’ve possibly given away your secret.

“Apparently it’s in the way we look at each other,” you explained, choosing to leave out what he said about Prince Thomas. You didn’t want to think about that right now, you just wanted to enjoy a few stolen dances with your love, hiding in plain sight in the middle of the ball.

“Rihanna’s told me that I look at you like you’re my world, which she isn’t wrong about. You are my world,” she said so easily, keeping her voice down to keep the words between the two of you. You could feel the heat rising to your face, Zendaya always knowing how to fluster you with her soft words. The worst part was you knew she meant every single word she said, and her genuineness really added another layer to things.

“I wish we could be like this forever,” you admitted, resting your head on her shoulder as you looked up at her. The arm around your waist tightened the slightest bit, bringing your body closer to hers.

“Is it bad that I really want to kiss you right now? Everything be damned, I want to show everyone just how in love with you I am.” There was a slight sadness behind her words, knowing that asking that of you was unfair. You had your duties, you needed to do right by your kingdom, and for the moment, that didn’t include her in the picture. Not the way she was now, at least.

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want the same thing, but you know-”

“Yes, I know,” Zendaya told you, gaze wandering down to your lips for just a moment before meeting your eyes again. “Come now, let’s enjoy the moment.”

You nodded, falling into an easy back and forth, swaying together with Zendaya as the song changed to a different piece. She took the opportunity to whisper sweet words of affirmation to you, complimenting you looks, how well you were handling everything, as though she could sense you needed to reassurance. You tried to reciprocate, always enchanted by the way she looked in her armour, the soft lights creating a halo around her as you stayed resting against her shoulder. For the moment, the crowd disappeared. It was only the two of you, and nothing else mattered. Nothing else ever mattered.

**********

The two of you danced beyond the one Zendaya promised you, but neither of you complained. You weren’t entirely sure how long the two of you stayed there, each song just blending into the next, but once it came to a more livelier partnered dance (the kind where you would have to switch partners), you let her know you were ready to go. There were a few things she needed to do before you would be allowed to leave, primarily making the other guards aware of your departure so people wouldn’t be surprised by your absence, but it didn’t take long for you to make your exit. It wasn’t a grand thing like your entrance had been, simply you and Zendaya sneaking out as quietly as you could.

Outside of the ball, guards were spread out wider than they usually were. They would simply have to make rounds rather than staying at their post, but that gave you and Zendaya a bit of privacy as she escorted you back to your room. She held your hand loosely in hers, a soft smile as she watched you going on about the night. Though your mission may have not been the success you’d hoped for, you’d actually had fun at the ball. You left out your last conversation with Prince Thomas, not wanting to damper the feeling you had at the moment.

The second you were in the true privacy of your room, the door clicking shut behind you, Zendaya turned and cupped your face in her hands. You waited with held breath, wanting to know what was going through Zendaya’s mind as she just looked down at you, mindlessly rubbing her thumb over your cheek. “You look beautiful tonight, Princess, though you always manage to take my breath away.”

Zendaya’s words were a low murmur, as though she didn’t want to break the peaceful quiet. You let out a breathless laugh. “You’re such a sap.”

“Unfortunately you’re stuck with me.” She finally leaned in, brushing a whisper of a kiss across your lips. Before she could back away, leaving you with the tease of a kiss, you pulled her back, fingers tangling into the curls at her nape. You could feel her smile against your lips a moment before she deepened the kiss. When you finally let her pull back, she did so with a small nip to your bottom lip, her eyes darkening as she watched you brush your tongue over the spot. “Now, what was all that about?”

“I’ve been wanting to kiss you all night, it wasn’t fair that you were going to tease me like that.”

“Have I ever been anything but fair to you, Princess?” she teased, pulling down your bottom lip with her thumb before dropping her hand. If anything, she was proving your point for you.

“You tease too much.”

“Then stop being so fun to tease.” She dipped down to kiss you breathless again, her hands wandering down to trace over your figure. As her hands reached your waist, she pulled you flush against her, the coldness of her armour against your heated skin making you gasp. She took the opportunity to brush her tongue against yours, drinking in your little noises as the kiss went on.

****Smut Starts Here******

“Z,” you whined as she began trailing kisses from your jaw down to your neck. You could feel her hum of acknowledgement on your skin, joining the slight pressure as she focused on the spot that sent a shiver down you spine. “Z, please.”

“What is it, my Princess?” She asked, looking up at you with a mischievous glint in her eyes. She was enjoying every second of this, even if nothing much had happened just yet. Before you could properly gather your thoughts, her lips were back on your neck, making your mind go blank for a second.

“Please.”

“I’m going to need you to use your words, Princess.” Zendaya finally pulled back, properly looking at you. She couldn’t help her smile at your disheveled state, you were always so easy to rile up with a few well placed kisses. Hell, even a few heated looks and soft touches could get you going if she was in the right place.

“Help me take off my dress, please.”

“Only if you help with my armour.” You brightened up at her words.

“It’s a deal.” She started by unfastening the closure of your cape, letting it fall down your shoulders. She dragged a finger down the line of your neck before letting her nail scrape along your collarbones, previously hidden by the lining of the cape. She could feel the goosebumps following her trail, giving her a rush at how responsive your body was. Zendaya looked down, eyeing the fabric pooled at your feet. “We should probably hang these up.”

“We can deal with it after,” you said, bringing her attention back to you.

“Someone’s impatient.”

“And someone’s taking their time.” You swallowed heavily when you saw her raised brow, knowing that sassing her wasn’t the best method to get your way, but you couldn’t help it.

“Turn then, Princess. You can’t have me doing all the work now, can you?” You nodded, turning around so Zendaya could unlace the back of the dress. As the fabric loosened, Zendaya pressed kisses along your shoulder, making your heart flutter at the sweet intimacy. The bodice of the dress fell to your hips, right where your corset met your hoop skirt. Right, the hoop skirt.

“I suppose we should have started with the hoop skirt,” you joked, laughing when Zendaya mimicked your words. She dropped to her knees, taking the hem of your dress and pulling it up.

“Hold this for me.” You decided to have mercy, taking the skirt in hand and bunching it up so Zendaya would have an easier time. She pulled the string of the hoop skirt, the knot undoing and making it possible for her to actually pull it down your legs. You could feel the thin fabric pooling around your ankles. “Okay, now step out.”

As you took a step back from the hoop skirt on the floor, you could feel the rest of the fabric of your dress wanting to fall. Zendaya was busy getting the hoop skirt out of the way, laying it flat and standing it against your wardrobe so it wouldn’t get damaged. As she turned, you let the fabric go, allowing it to pool around your ankles and leaving you in just your corset and undergarments. You could almost see her eyes darken when she saw your figure silhouetted by the moonlight flowing in from your window. You heard her light curse as she nearly shoved the hoop skirt against the wardrobe, no longer concerned about it falling or not.

“Who’s the eager one now?” you teased as she nearly tripped over herself to get to you.

“Have you seen yourself? There’s no way you could blame me.” She brought you into another kiss, this one softer than the hungry ones you shared earlier. Just as with the earlier kisses, though, you found yourself intoxicated at the feeling of her lips against yours. She broke the kiss, leaving you chasing after her lips. “Help me out of my armour, would you?”

She didn’t need to say anything else as you pulled her closer to the bed, away from the pile of fabric on the floor. While your dress was easily discarded, you knew you and Zendaya would have to be careful to put her armour to the side. Tripping over fabric was pretty inconsequential, but tripping over steel? Not so much.

You first started with her shoulder plates, taking your time as you unstrapped the leather ties from their buckles around her arms and their connectors to the chest piece. You could feel the lithe muscle in her arms, even through the thick tunic she wore underneath. Next came the chest piece, but she was too tall for you to simply lift it over her head. She returned your small pout with a smile, ducking down to allow you to slide it off of her. Once those pieces were placed on your desk, it would be easier going.

You turned to see her starting to undo the buckle around her waist, but you were quick to smack her hands away. She looked at you with a raised brow, but you simply waved her off. “Stop, I like doing this.”

“And yet you don’t help me often.”

“It’s a lot of work,” you amended, looking up at her with a sheepish smile. She laughed at that, knowing you’d try your best to get out of anything resembling labor. Your fingers trembled with excitement as you went about undoing the buckle, letting the metal fall from around her hips and thighs. You caressed down her legs as you fell to your knees, only needing to remove her shin protectors to get her out of the armour. While you loved seeing Zendaya in her armour, seeing her out of it was considerably better.

“Now isn’t this a pretty sight,” she commented, reaching down to pet your hair.

“You’re wearing far too much for that to be true.” You rolled your eyes as you went about taking off the last remaining pieces. You stood, taking the shin protectors and waist piece with you to place on your desk. As you put them down, Zendaya came up behind you, holding you around your waist as she pressed kisses to the crook of your neck.

“You’re always a pretty sight. Are you ready?”

“You’re a sap, but yes.” The second she had the affirmative, she spun you around to face her, immediately taking your lips in a sweet kiss. You almost didn’t register the fact that she was moving the two of you until the backs of her knees hit your bed. She was smooth in her movements, sitting down and bringing you to straddle her lap. She brought her hands down to rest on your covered waist, the skin burning even though you couldn’t properly feel her touch. You could feel her smile as she drew small noises out of you, but you didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was her touch on you.

Zendaya kept the pace of the kiss slow, wanting to wind you up as much as she could with her hands wandering along your exposed thighs. She started trailing kisses down your neck, leaving you to attempt to muffle your own sounds. Zendaya knew to be careful about leaving marks - the handmaidens were brutal with their gossip, and a bruise anywhere odd would leave them with plenty of fodder - but you could feel her teeth scrape along your collarbone. As you were distracted by her mouth, her hands moved to undo your bra, leaving the corset for now. “I want to hear you, Princess.”

“Z, please, I need you,” you gasped out as she started guiding your hips to rock against her. The shock of friction was enough to draw a needy whine from you, and Zendaya’s little smile let you know that was what she was looking for.

“There we go, Princess. Is that what you’re looking for?” You shook your head even as you tried to find more friction, grinding against her, even as her hands gripped your waist tighter, slowing your movements. She held you in place, fixing you with her stare. You whined again, making her raise a brow. “No? Then why are you complaining?”

“Z, you know what I want.”

“Do I?”

“Please, touch me.” That was enough for Zendaya to move into action, your back hitting the mattress soon after you spoke. She trailed kisses down your chest, leaving light nips in her wake before she slid further down the bed. You propped yourself up on your elbows, wanting to see what she was doing. You jolted as her lips touched your inner thighs, her breath on you leaving you wanting.

“You’re so gorgeous.”

“That’s why you left the corset on, huh?” You tried joking, but another kiss on your thigh left you sighing.

“What? You look good in it, let me indulge for a second,” she replied with a small smile, pressing another kiss, closer to where you wanted her most. You tried to be patient, not wanting to give Zendaya any reason to delay any more than she already had. She settled between your legs, starting on your left thigh, pressing kisses higher up your inner thigh before switching over to your right thigh, repeating the motions. You held your breath as she got closer to your clothed heat, which she immediately noticed.

“Breathe, Princess,” she teased, her fingertips running just under the hem of your panties. You followed her instructions, the smallest moan coming out with your breath. She brought her hands up to your waistband, and you were quick to lift your hips to help her take off your panties. They were quickly discarded, and Zendaya settled between your legs yet again. “So beautiful.”

“Z, you’ve been teasing me all night. I’ve been waiting for this since I saw you in your formal armour,” you whined, trying to get her to hurry up. You could see her eyes darken at your admission, and immediately she started rubbing her thumbs along your thighs, just teasing you further.

“I was the tease? Did you see yourself tonight?” she joked, just putting off what you wanted even more. She wanted to see just how far she could push you, knowing it would make it that much better when she finally gave in to you. Before you could answer, she sucked a small mark into your inner thigh, knowing it would be easy enough to hide. Instead of whatever you were going to say, Zendaya was answered with your moan. “You always make such pretty noises for me.”

Zendaya finally gave in, wanting to hear more of you, wanting to feel your thighs tensing around her head. She pressed the faintest whisper of a kiss to your clit, just enough to make you want more. She started out with just light brushes of her tongue against your folds, sending shocks through your body. You couldn’t help the squirm of your body as you tried to get her to do something more, just wanting her to actually touch you the way you wanted. As you rolled your hips, you felt her grip on your thighs tighten to a bruising hold. Zendaya fixed your legs to rest on her shoulders, licking at your cunt like a woman starved. As she fucked into you with her tongue, her nose rubbed against your clit, providing you with the little extra push of stimulation.

You didn’t know what to do with your hands, switching between fisting the blanket under you and lightly grasping at Zendaya’s hair. Zendaya let out the occasional groan of pleasure when you grabbed her hair, pulling her closer to your heat. She switched her focus to your clit, alternating between lightly sucking on the bud and teasing it with the tip of her tongue. You could feel the heat in your body growing as she focused on your clit, but there was something missing, keeping you from reaching your orgasm.

“Please, Z, need more,” you whined as you rolled your hips against her face. Zendaya pulled away, looking up at you. You could see the light sheen of your arousal on her lips, her eyes blown with arousal.

“What do you need, Princess? I need you to tell me.”

“Fingers, Z. Please, need your mouth back on me,” you whined, trying to gather your thoughts from the fuzzy state she left you in.

“There we go, darling.” Zendaya took her middle and ring fingers into her mouth, getting them wet enough to use without hurting you. Even though you were pretty sure you were wet enough, Zendaya wouldn’t take any chances. She eased her middle finger in you to start, watching your face for any signs of discomfort, but there were none. Seeing this, Zendaya took the opportunity to ease her ring finger in too, crooking them to rub against the spot that had you seeing white.

You threw your head back, a high-pitched moan leaving your lips as she focused her fingers on your spot. You didn’t see Zendaya’s little smirk as she watched you, not as she put her mouth back on your clit. The buildup was quick, your previously denied release coming back in full force. It didn’t take long for you to reach your peak, Zendaya’s name on your lips as you came.

Zendaya took her time working you through your release, drawing out the aftershocks running through you until you were whining from overstimulation, gently pushing her away. She made her way up your body, her weight barely resting on you as she met you in a kiss, your mind still foggy from your orgasm and the slight taste of you on her lips. You were the one to move her, pushing her back so you could sit up. She moved quickly, not wanting to part from your lips for too long. You directed her hands to the corset, and she was quick to pick up on your hint. As she started unlacing the back, you let out a small laugh. “Now I can breathe.”

“Sorry, love, you know I love how you look in your corsets,” she teased, bringing you into another kiss. You brought your hands to the hem of her tunic, finally pulling it off of her. Your eyes traveled over her lithe form, small scars from her training breaking the smooth expanse every now and then. You kissed down her neck, hands tracing the skin before removing her bra. You nipped your way down her chest, having more free reign to leave marks than she did, before tracing around her nipple with your tongue. You ran your tongue over it, your hand going to play with the other as Zendaya’s muffled noises started to fill the room. You looked up at her, the candlelight making her look even more ethereal than she normally did.

“You’re beautiful,” you said, pressing kisses across her chest. “I can’t believe you’re with me.”

“I’m the lucky one here,” Zendaya said with a gasp.

You trailed your hand down to her waistline, dipping your fingers under the waistband. “Can I?”

Zendaya was quick to lift her hips, tugging her pants down with little help from you. You smiled at her eagerness, but you didn’t want to tease her about it. You pulled her into a kiss, one hand holding her face and the other running over the newly exposed skin. Zendaya arched into your touch, pulling you closer to her. Your hand made its way between her thighs, rubbing her over her underwear. All it took was Zendaya’s small groan in your mouth for you to pull her underwear to the side, teasing your fingers through her wetness. Apparently you hadn’t been the only one enjoying yourself when Zendaya was eating you out.

You continued teasing through her wetness, enjoying the way Zendaya was canting her hips towards you. For all you complained about Zendaya teasing you, you were just as big a tease. Once you had spread her arousal enough, you rubbed her clit in small circles, wanting to feel her moans as she pressed her body against yours. Zendaya was getting fed up with your teasing, and it was obvious when she fisted her hand in your hair, deepening the kiss. You got the ‘hint’ (if you could call it that), starting with one finger to ease her into it. (If she accused you of teasing, well, that was her issue.)

It didn’t take long for Zendaya’s impatience to show once again, her hips rolling against your hand and her noises growing needier. You smiled into the kiss, quickly punished by a slight nip to your bottom lip. It was then you decided to finally break the continuous stream of soft kisses, instead kissing down her neck as you eased another finger into her.

“You’re so mean to me,” you said, even as you smiled against her skin.

“That’s because you’re-” Whatever Zendaya was going to say was cut off by a deep moan, your fingers working faster against her g-spot. She tried to glare down at you, but the way her eyes were starting to get hazy wasn’t doing much to help her. You kept your pace, occasionally slowing slightly to rub her clit with the heel of your hand. You knew it drove her crazy, but you knew it would be worth it when she finally reached her high.

“You’re so gorgeous for me, love worshipping you like you deserve,” you mumbled against her skin. You kept working your fingers in her, but brought your thumb to rub circles into her clit. Zendaya’s thighs tensed around your arm, and you could feel the way her walls were tightening around your fingers, the sound of her arousal filling the room. “Love you so much, want to feel you cum around my fingers.”

“Fuck, (y/n). Love you, love you,” Zendaya kept repeating her love for you as you worked her through the orgasm. She pressed herself as close to you as she could, hands running across your heated skin. You could tell she was trying to ground herself, so as you slowly eased your fingers out of her, you brought her back into soft kisses. You kept them short, just enough to assure her that you were still there.

“We should clean up,” you muttered once her breathing started to go back to normal. You ran your fingers along her spine, just enjoying the feeling of her being there.

“We can do that later, just stay here,” she said, looking down at you. When you met her soft look, she pressed another kiss to your lips. That was enough to convince you to stay in bed with her, whispering I love you’s back and forth.

**********

Tag List: @uncookspaget, @ddesert-rosee, @gangganggg

Permanent Tag List: @treatallwithkindness, @laic2299, @delaber

#zendaya x reader #zendaya coleman x reader #zendaya imagine #celebrity imagine #reader insert #my princess series #Smut

55 notes · View notes

writeyouin · 3 years ago

Note

Hi there, can I request a headcannon list for tfp ratchet? Something where Reader, who is usually very easy going and wears a smile on their face is one day very quiet, only for Ratchet to find out that their family is practically estranged from them when they found out that they're gay. ty for your work!

Transformers Prime / Reader Insert – Family

A/N – Hey, so this got pretty angsty and bittersweet. I just hope that all of you know that being gay is great. It can be so difficult to be proud when someone doesn’t accept you, but I promise that the world gets better, especially when you find other supportive people. Friends are the family we choose for ourselves, and I hope that message stays with all of us.

Warnings – Angst.

Rating – T

For once, Ratchet found himself able to work peacefully in the base. The other Autobots were out on various missions. Jack, Miko and Raf were in school. Agent Fowler was at his own official place of work, and you had gone straight to the archives room as soon as you had entered the base.

‘Yes,’ Ratchet thought, satisfied. ‘All is quiet.’

It took him a long time to turn his processor to you. While it wasn’t unusual for you to go about your own business, it was certainly out of character for you to pay so little heed to Ratchet.

Sure, you always let him work when he was busy, but you also always greeted him with a smile, pestering him until you got one in return.

Ratchet couldn’t remember a day when you hadn’t told him not to be such a sour-puss, or sang his name until he paid you heed. Out of the humans, you were his partner, helping him in many a scientific task, once he had taught you what to do.

You joked, you sang, you danced, and you laughed. So, what had changed today?

Yes, Ratchet had found that he was able to work better in the peace and quiet that had befallen the base, but was there such a thing as it being too quiet?

“Bah,” Ratchet grumbled. He was over-reacting.

You couldn’t always be the easy-going, happy-go-lucky person who radiated warmth and life throughout the base. There had to be a limit to your seemingly endless supply of energy. Reassured in his conclusions, Ratchet got back to work. You would come to see him when you were ready to, and probably with some data from the archives that he needed.

Hours later, when Ratchet was sure that he was close to a breakthrough in his research, he found that he had hit something of a mental block. On the rare occasions when that happened, you were always there to talk him through his problems, or listen to him rant until he figured out what he was missing. It seemed that you always had a way of sensing his troubles.

Ratchet waited to hear your voice, but he was met with only silence. There had been a time when he worked alone, needing no such reassurances from anyone, but that time was long gone. The simple fact of the matter was that he needed your seemingly endless supply of positivity to spur him on.

Muttering to himself in a way that only those with old souls do, Ratchet left his work console in search of you.

“(Y/N), do you have a minute?” He called, upon distractedly entering the archive room. “I need to bounce some ideas off you.”

You stared up at Ratchet with hollow eyes. Ratchet had seen every emotion possible in his fellow Cybertronians. He knew sadness, guilt, despair, anger, resentment, and longing. As a medic, it was his job to heal the mind as well as the body. He had sworn an oath to help those in need where he could, and clearly, you needed his help now.

“(Y/N), what’s wrong?” Ratchet said, getting straight to the point; he never wasted time beating around the bush where people’s health was concerned.

“Hm? It’s nothing,” You answered in a dull monotone that didn’t suit you.

“Don’t lie,” Ratchet reprimanded.

You looked to the ground sadly, making Ratchet feel somewhat guilty that he hadn’t spent more time adopting a soothing tone. Still, it was too late for pleasantries now, so instead he waited for you to speak.

When it became apparent that you weren’t going to answer him, Ratchet spoke again.

“You can tell me now, or you can tell me later. Either way, neither of us are leaving this room until you talk. Clearly something is bothering you, so you may as well get it over with now.”

You knew that Ratchet wouldn’t really hold you verbally hostage against your will. If you told him that you weren’t ready to talk about what was bothering you yet, he would leave you be. Still, you didn’t want him to worry over you, nor did you want him to treat you like you were made of glass, afraid to say or do anything that might upset you.

“I’m just having a hard time right now… With my family,” You admitted.

Ratchet considered your statement momentarily. Cybertronians rarely had problems with so called ‘family.’ While all Cybertronians had creators, it didn’t seem to hold the same weight as the title of parent. Besides that, the few Cybertronians that did have family by Earth definitions were usually estranged from them, or their relatives were dead. Ratchet had a nephew, Medix, out in the galaxy somewhere, but he had not seen the young bot for quite some time.

Humans, he had learned, had strong familial bonds where possible. Ratchet wasn’t sure that he had the cultural understanding to help with whatever was troubling you; however, perhaps just the simple act of listening would alleviate your troubles.

“Would you like to talk about it?” He asked.

You swallowed your fears, wondering exactly where you should start. Although you knew that Ratchet would not judge you for whatever you might say, your irrational mind reminded you of your previous rejection, injecting you with fear that it would happen again.

“I…” You began, closing your eyes against tears that threatened to spill. “My family don’t want anything to do with me.”

“Why?” Ratchet demanded, offended on your behalf. You were wonderful, positive, intelligent, and caring. What cause could they possibly have for abandoning you?

There was a time that Ratchet believed that Miko was estranged from her family, but it turned out that they simply wanted what was best for her, and they thought the answer to that lay in America. All the same, sometimes the girl would take the ground-bridge to Japan, so she could watch her parents through the windows of their familial home; it was the only time that she was ever sombre.

Ratchet instantly knew from your tone that this wasn’t the same.

“Don’t worry about this, Ratchet,” You told him, courage abandoning you when faced with telling him of your troubles.

One stern look from Ratchet told you that this issue wasn’t going to be dropped. You loved that he cared for you enough to ask about this, yet you also hated it. There was a time that you felt that you could tell your family anything, and it had cost you everything; you would be remiss to make the same mistake again.

However, pinned by Ratchet’s penetrating gaze, you felt obliged to continue with your story, explaining what had happened.

“Three years ago today, my family stopped talking to me… I just get sad around this time when I think of it.”

“(Y/N), please tell me what happened between you and your family.”

You wiped your eyes with the back of your arm, your voice cracking when you next spoke, “They don’t want me because I’m gay.”

Gay? Ratchet searched his memory banks for a brief conversation he’d had with Jack. Gay was the term humans used for attraction to the same gender. He remembered that humans had this primitive idea, usually based on perversions of religious texts, that attraction to the same gender was shameful, disgusting, or dangerous.

Anger flared inside Ratchet’s processor. Both as a medical professional, and your friend, he wanted nothing more than to give your family the telling off that they deserved. However, as good as that would make him feel, this wasn’t about him, nor would it help the situation.

“There is nothing wrong with being gay,” Ratchet said resolutely, showing support in his unwavering stubbornness. “And your family are foolish for thinking so. I hope one day they get their heads out of their afts long enough to see what a wonderful person you have grown to be, and when that day comes, they had better beg your forgiveness.”

Although those weren’t traditional words of comfort that Ratchet was offering you, you knew that he was doing his best.

“Thanks, Ratchet,” You murmured. “I hope so too.”

“Well…” He hummed, clearly unsure of where to go from here. “Would you like to help me with my research?”

You smiled sadly, “If it’s all the same to you, do you mind if I have a little alone time today?”

“Of course,” Ratchet nodded. He was about to leave when he thought of one more thing that had to be said. “Cybertronians know little of family matters. That being said, the other Autobots and I are honoured to have you as a part of ours.”

“Thank you, I needed that.”

Ratchet gave a sympathetic smile, leaving you in the archive room and vowing to check on you again before you left.

#ratchet #transformers #tfp #transformers prime #maccadam #reader #reader insert #fanfic #fanfiction #family

133 notes · View notes

boontaeveboba · 4 years ago

Text

Sore Loser

Pairing: Hunter x fem!reader

Rating: M (18+ ONLY)

Warnings: this is some straight up smut (PiV), little bit of roughing around/dominant Hunter

Who ever had designed Kamino’s supply closet had not been very forgiving, but at the same time, they probably had not been designed for hooking up in, merely a stash of supplies, cleaning products and the occasional broom.

It wasn’t romantic, stars, it wasn’t even comfortable, but there is no way you would have made it back to your quarters the way the two of you were worked up.

Training had been rough. Each clone had been evaluated for individual assessment, as opposed to the squad, and for extra measure they were up against you.

Sure their were plenty of other hired bounty hunters, Jedi and droids to fight with, but you provided a different set of skills to combat; how to handle separating friendship from survival.

Hunter had been quick to pick up your movements and you had to abandon your usual attacks and charges. Every incoming hit, he saw ahead of time. He never attacked, only defended, studying you closely as each move was made.

It was time for improvisation.

He circled around you, waiting for your next attack, when you let your mind clear, no more planning ahead, you thought, instinct only.

And that was how, only a few short minutes later, you found yourself straddling the Sergeant in the middle of the training field, his viroblade strewn aside and your training blaster firmly pressed under his chin.

As the Kaminoan’s called for your assistance reseting, you saw Hunter slink off to his brothers, watching Wrecker place a reassuring hand to his shoulder.

“You’ll get her next time. No one could have seen that final move coming.” You heard Wrecker tell him.

“Statistically, there was a 1 in 2,531 chance of her ever beating you.” Tech quipped.

“It just happened to be this time.” Crosshair sneered.

When the team finally left and you were dismissed and you let out a sigh of exhaustion. You were ready for rest.

Lucky for you, that wouldn’t come til much later.

The halls were dark as the ever present storms of Kamino ragged on, you almost missed the figure sliding beside you.

His red bandana flashed as he jumped in front of you, attempting to scare you.

“I heard you coming.” You laughed.

Hunter laughed too, “but will you know what’s coming next?”

“Next? Hunter I have to-” but your sentence wasn’t finished as he cut you off with a quick peck.

“What if someone sees?” You hissed as pulled back, laughing at your sour expression.

“They won’t, not if you come with me.” He responded, extending a hand to yours.

Hesitantly, you took it and then found yourself being yanked into a supply closet you hadn’t know was next to you.

Lips immediately pressed into yours as your back crashed into shelving.

“Ouch!” You yelped.

“That’s what you get for earlier.”

“Hunter, that was strictly professional!”

“And so is this,” he said, yanking your shirt over your head.

“I’m never going to hear the end of getting my butt kicked by a training officer.” He growled nipping and biting at the newly exposed skin of your chest.

“Not just any training officer?” You smirked. “The one you’ve been sleeping with for the past few months? Let’s not forget.”

Hunter let out an annoyed groan before shoving his face in-between your tits. His hands reached around and fondled your ass.

“Seeing you so, so intuitive, so natural at taking me down,” he mused, in-between now sucking each breast while palming the other, “it was so...”

“Sooo...?” You raked your fingernails down his head through his hair, tugging softly on the ends.

“So hot.” He groaned. “I’ve never seen you look like that.” He raised back up to kiss you again.

As he continued to kiss you, you ran a hand down along his armor, searching for clasps to undo the codpiece.

“Let me.” He said softly, pulling back so he could take off the plastoid covering him.

Stripped down now to only in his blacks you ran your hand along the prominent bulge in his pants.

“Look, I’m already hard at this point, you don’t need to tease.”

“Maybe I should help you out with that?” You said sweetly sinking down to your knees.

Hunter backed up slightly to give you more room in the cramped space. He rolled down his blacks and underwear freeing his stuff cock.

You placed a kiss at his tip, before licking a stripe from the base to the end.

Smirking mirthlessly at him you spoke, “but I don’t think losers deserve a reward.”

You stood back up.

“That’s it.” Hunter snapped.

He grabbed your shoulders and spun you around. He slammed you up against a free wall.

“I’ll show what a loser like me can do.”

Unceremoniously, he yanked down your pants and underwear, and began groping your ass.

You turned your head to look at him, but he swatted you lightly.

“Do not move unless I say so. Got it?”

You nodded.

“I can’t hear you.” He growled.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes Hunter.”

“Good.” He came closer to you, one hand on your hip anchoring you between him and the wall.

The other hand was making its way towards your dripping cunt.

“What’s this? All for me?”

“Yes Hunter.”

One finger began swirling inside, while another sought out your most sensitive spot.

“Who knew training could get you so worked up?” He purred bringing his mouth to the shell of your ear.

You whined and pressed your ass against his straining cock.

“No no baby.” He said continuing his ministrations, slowly. “I don’t know if a loser like me should let you have that. It might ruin your reputation.”

You hissed as he added another finger to you, “sorry you suck at training sims.”

“What was that?” He yanked his hand away and you whined again at the loss of contact.

“Maybe you don’t deserve this cock then.” He said backing up slightly and running a hand up and down himself.

Not wanting to risk fully turning around, you glanced over your shoulder at him stroking himself.

“You want it?” He asked.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?” He repeated.

“Yes Hunter, please.”

“I guess it’s a good thing I’m not a sore loser,” he said coming back up behind you lining himself up with your entrance from behind. “I can’t say the same about you though,” he slid his full length in you eliciting a loud moan from you “at least the sore part.”

You could hear the smirk in his voice with that last part.

His hands found your hips and he began thrusting into you.

“How are you this tight every time?” He said, between gritted teeth.

Your arms were splayed in front of you bracing yourself as he slid in and out.

“How do you always fill me up so well.?” You responded.

He only let out a soft chuckle to that. “You’re so good to me. So tight. You take me so well.”

You closed your eyes enjoying the feeling of Hunter pounding into you. A free hand of his roamed over your front, squeezing your tits together.

“And so soft.”

You dipped one of your own hands down the front of your body, finger finding your clit, you let out a slow moan.

“Oh no you don’t,” said Hunter and he quickly replaced that hand with his own. “I may not have won today, but I will certainly be collecting a reward of my own.”

His hips slapped against your backside at bruising pace and his fingers found that sweet and most sensitive spot, pushing you over the edge, causing you to gush over him.

“Hunter!” You cried out, your hips jerking back to his.

He didn’t let up.

“Come on baby, I know you have more than one in you. I saw it earlier. You were just as turned on as I was when you knocked me down earlier. I was completely defenseless, just like you are now.”

You felt him, deeper, borderline to bottoming you out.

“C’mon baby, let go for me.”

Your legs trembled and you felt weak as he drove another orgasm from you, his own not far behind. The two of you riding the wave of pleasure until you felt as if you would fall over, you were so exhausted.

Pulling out, Hunter then flipped out around, searching your eyes. “You alright?”

“Never better.” You smiled at him.

He smiled back and pressed a kiss to your mouth.

“I should kick your ass more often if I knew this would be the result.” You told him.

He through his head back and laughed, laughed!

“That was a one time thing, I’m afraid.” He said pulling his blacks up and tossing you your discarded shirt.

“So sure?” You asked him, as he began buckling armor again.

“Positive sweetheart. But this hooking up in the supply closet, definitely not.”

Now it was your turn to laugh.

#the bad batch #hunter #hunter x reader #sergeant hunter x reader #hunter oneshot #bad batch x you #my writing #BEB writes

192 notes · View notes

kinsurou · 4 years ago

Text

After Class

Pairings: Takami Keigo x Reader

Warnings: Smut (18+), No Quirks! AU, Sex in a classroom, Reader is a virgin.

Here's my very first piece of smut, please fasten your seatbelts and enjoy the show!

It takes all of your willpower to hold back the pent-up rage growing inside you like a fire doused in gasoline, everyone in the classroom can see the poker face you're trying to maintain is dangerously close to break and let out a horrifying monster called your temper.

Everyone except for the teacher can see you're nearly at your limit, there's an enormous urge to punch someone in the face that keeps growing, and that someone just happens to be the same woman giving you an earful in front of the whole class.

"You should be paying more attention during class instead of being on your phone!" She turns back towards the rest of her students. "Let this be an example to all of you! Don't be like your classmate here!"

She slams her bottle of water in your desk, for dramatic purpose, and finally, she walks back to her own desk, feeling satisfied with her actions. How in the world did someone like her become a college teacher in the first place is a question you'll never get a proper answer to.

There's actually a reason why she's been treating you like this for the past two weeks. A reason that just happens to walk inside the classroom a few minutes after the bell rings, he's carrying a stack of papers in hand, accompanied by a lazy grin stretched all over his face, but that expression quickly shifts to confusion and concern once he feels the tension inside the classroom.

"Sheesh, what's with the long faces guys?"

The teacher's mood flips in an instant. She starts greeting him with a big smile, and there's a not so subtle glint in her eyes that makes many, if not all of her students, cringe in repulse.

"Hi there Takami! Now this is a surprise, is Tanaka not coming today?"

"Good morning to you too Ms. Ito." He replies. "No, professor Tanaka called in sick, but he asked me to watch over the kids for today and hand out their exams. Though judging by everyone's mood, I'm guessing something happened?"

Ito just waves off his question nonchalantly. "I was just talking to everyone not to follow their classmate's example," She throws a dirty look at you from the corner of her eye. "Can you believe the nerve of this girl? Being on her phone in the middle of my lecture? Some people are just completely ungrateful when it comes to their education!"

In the meantime, you're biting down on your lower lip with such force, it's almost a surprise there's not a sight of blood, you're trying so very hard to ignore her snide remarks, all in favor of taking notes from the whiteboard in front of the classroom.

The only thing you were to blame for was forgetting to put your phone on Silent, otherwise she wouldn't have batted an eye when the device rang with a text from your mother. And yet all this woman wanted was an excuse to make you look bad in front of everyone, she just happened to find one at the right moment.

"He's so looking your way right now˜. "Your best friend whispers from your right, with that teasing tone you know all too well.

"Shut.up." You hiss, not really in the mood for another earful after the little stunt with the teacher.

You don't bother paying attention while the blond's gaze lingers on you, disregarding the woman's attempt to get the spotlight with ease, leaving her desperate to make another futile attempt until she finally realizes her class is over. All she can do to keep the remains of her dignity is walk out of the classroom with a huff and a sour attitude.

You feel pity for the students in her next class, they haven't even started the lesson yet and are going to have to deal with the human equivalent of a Tasmanian devil. You could almost listen to her yelling from across the campus already.

Takami Keigo, also nicknamed "Hawks" by his friends, is a teacher's assistant at your college. Older than the majority of your class only by two years, and yet he behaves in such a professional manner with everyone that is hard to believe he's actually a student as well.

It's hard not to like him when he's so chill with everyone, for even in cases like this, when he's asked to take over after a teacher's unavailable, Hawk's only assignment is to stay with the class during the whole period. This time however, he comes carrying a stack of papers.

"Alright kids," He starts, just to be interrupted by one of your classmates.

"Seriously Hawks? You're not that older than us!" They're obviously joking around with him, it's hard to be serious when this guy is around.

"Respect your elders kid!" Laughter fills the whole classroom, dissipating the tension in the air like it's nothing but mist.

Everyone but you is laughing their hearts out, until Hawks points out the contents of the papers.

"As I was saying, Your teacher had to attend some personal business, but he asked me to hand out your test results, and let me tell you guys one thing..." The following silence leaves everyone on edge. "All of you did an amazing job! I don't think I've ever seen so many good notes in a single classroom!"

Everyone starts yelling at him comically. All of you know just how much he enjoys teasing people, but somehow you can't ever get used to his teasing, and he knows it, it's why he's always abusing of his little tendency.

Anybody could agree he's the total opposite of Miss Ito. A 27-years old teacher who's always arguing with her own students for something as insignificant as yawning. Someone who apparently forgot the rule where it says it's strictly forbidden for a teacher to date a student.

That doesn't seem to stop her from throwing hints at a small group of guys, each from a different classroom, and it most certainly doesn't stop her from trying to flirt with the new teacher's assistant.

Hawks starts walking through each row of desks, handing out the papers one by one, each time he gives somebody their sheet of paper you can hear him telling everyone they did a good job.

Once he hands out your own test, his fingers brush against your own with subtleness, sending a small shiver all the way down your arms.

"Good job kid, You had one of the best grades out of the whole class. Your teacher said the same thing too, y'know." The way he says those words with such a reassuring energy makes all the anger inside you leave, no longer the urges to smack somebody tempts you to go looking for Miss Ito and shove your papers up her nose.

All you can muster is a small smile at the guy standing in front of you.

He smiles in return and walks to the next row of seats, ready to hand out the rest of the results.

It's only after he leaves your sight that you see it. A small post it note at the corner of your exam, and judging by the neat handwriting, it's a note from Hawks.

"Meet me after class, there's something I'd like to discuss with you."

Just when in the world did he write this? You didn't even notice when he put the tiny piece of paper in your test.

...Were you in trouble for something?

"Look Y/N! I've never had such a high grade before!" Your friend's voice snaps you out of the small paranoic fit. Turning towards him, your eyes widen in shock after seeing the results, and even you are surprised by how well he did on his exam.

"What the hell F/N? You got a perfect score!" You can't help the smile of pride that comes out, proud at F/N for getting such a good grade. He wasn't the worst student, but he wasn't the best either, so seeing the perfect score in his paper was something worth celebrating for.

The rest of the class goes by pretty quickly. Most of the time is spent reviewing the results of your exams with each other, and organizing future study sessions for the subjects you happened to have the most trouble with.

The loud ringing of the bell indicates the end of the last period. And with that everyone can finally leave for the day.

Except for you...

"We have to celebrate this! What do you say we go to that pizza place we love?" F/N stands from his chair to stretch his whole body, you wince at the loud "POP!" coming from his back.

"Maybe tomorrow? There's something I need to do first..." Your eyes wander back to the little pocket in your bag, where the little neon yellow note is carefully tucked away.

"Alright, I'll call you tonight then! See you on Saturday!" With that he walks out of the room along with the rest of your classmates. You're slowly putting all your stuff inside your bag, and it's until the last book is neatly stored alongside the rest of the notebooks and pens that you look up from your seat.

And he's sitting on top of the teacher's desk, Hawks keeps staring at you with something unknown deep inside those amber eyes of his, something lingers in that look and it makes you feel weird on the inside.

But you managed to keep calm before he starts talking.

"That was quite the ruckus back there, uh?" He chuckles, eyes closed as he leans back on the wooden surface.

All you can do is sigh in annoyance at the reminder of your teacher's words.

"Do you want me to remind you why she's being a bitch to me in the first place?" Your mind is faster than your brain, a hand shots up to cover it in shame once you realize what you just called her in front of an unofficial staff member.

But his laughter only becomes louder at your words. Hawks is literally shaking in place, small tears prickling his eyes and head tilted back.

"Easy there, I'm fully aware of it and I take the full blame for it."

He knows it's his fault Miss Ito hates you right now, all because the blond haired male was being friendly with you the other day. The same guy she had laid her eyes on. If there's something you all know is that when Miss Ito gets her eyes on someone single, approaching them is like a death sentence.

Sadly you became one of her targets by pure accident. And now you have to suffer the consequences of something unnecessary.

"But look at the bright side," He goes on. "She can't really lower your grades for no reason, count the fact you have one of the highest grades in her class and it'll look suspicious if you ask me. So for now, just keep up the good work."

You take another look at his features while getting up from your chair. His eyes hold nothing but sincerity, the easy going mood as he stands up from his seat is still evident.

But once he starts getting closer everything changes in the blink of an eye.

He's standing right in front of you, his arms caging your body between his own and your desk. The smell of his cologne quickly invading your nostrils. A subtle combination between citrus and musk that seems to fit Hawks perfectly, it's an alluring and addictive smell that makes you want to lean forward and breath said scent deeply.

That snaps you back to reality, and causes you to look up at him in the eye. A hue of crimson crawling its way up from your neck to your whole face. The whole room's beginning to spin all around you from the nerves struggling to take control.

"W-What are you doing?" The feigned confidence makes him rise an eyebrow in amusement, the glint in his eyes still present as he takes another look at you. His gaze pierces its way into your soul with such ease that it makes it hard to keep eye contact with the man trapping you between his arms.

"I think I should have been more direct from the very beginning..." He leans closer, warm breath hitting your face, making another course of goosebumps run down through your body in big waves.

There's a small and not so foreign feeling between your thighs, making the situation ten times worse.

You know what that feeling is, you just haven't felt anything like it before...

"I don't think I've ever met someone like you. Someone as hard working," His cheek nudges your own as he leans further and inhales your own scent, your bodies are pressed against each other with such an overwhelming amount of strength for someone as lean as Hawks.

"Someone as strong..."One of his hands caress your hip, making you gasp at the sensation of his hands brushing against your skin despite the layer of clothing covering your body.

"Someone as attractive." He's enamoured by the way your face turns away from him, eyes closed tightly from something as simple as his touch.

"If I'm being honest with you..." That same hand caressing your hip goes up, trapping your chin in between his fingers before turning it back to face him, his thumb skims over the outline of your lower lip with such a tender touch, it's enough to make you open your eyes to look at him.

That glint on his eyes is still in there, but this time, with everything happening right now, it all makes sense. This time you can tell just what that glint really means.

"I want you."

It meant lust.

His lips come crashing down on yours filled with never ending passion and lust. Hawks leans in closer, wrapping his arms around your hips as he ravishes your mouth. The warmth of his body makes you feel dizzy, like an intense fever that could make you hallucinate at any moment.

Never in your life has somebody kissed you like this before, with an intensity that makes all of your senses malfunction.

The kiss becomes more desperate as he pulls your body even closer. His touches makes your body give up as your legs begin trembling from dizziness, making him groan in satisfaction at the way you react to his strokes, and before your legs can actually give up on you and make you fall on the floor like an idiot, your own hands grip tightly on his arms for support.

When your limbs makes contact with his biceps, you realize just how fit Hawks actually is. The muscles under your palms feel hard and strong, you can almost feel every single movement as he flexes.

He pulls away soon after, smirking in satisfaction at the dizzy look on your face. You're panting heavily, eyes closing again and face flushing into a deeper shade of crimson than before, and that was only from his kisses.

The mere sight is enough for the growing tent in his pants to become harder, making your own eyes go wide at the realization of what the hard feeling against your leg actually is.

"H-Hawks...Wait...!" You can barely make a proper sentence, still high from everything going on. "I, We can't, you're..."

"I am...?" His teasing doesn't seem to stop. he too, is panting hard before kissing your cheek tenderly and slowly, slowly starts to kiss all the way down from the skin on your face all the way down to the jaw, eventually he reaches the junction between your neck and shoulder, where he starts nibbling softly.

Oh god, please don't leave a mark.

It takes all of your strength to push him away just a few inches. He's not even upset by the gesture, half lidded eyes staring at you intensely.

You finally catch your breath after a few minutes. Glaring at him with more embarrassment than anything else.

"You, are the teacher's assistant. Is it really okay for you to be doing this with a student?!"

All he does is give you a nonchalant look, followed by a smirk that leaves you frozen in place.

Is this guy really the same one that helped you out the other day? The same one that's always helping out everyone around campus with a smile on his face?

He touches your face affectionately once again, before answering your question.

"Yes, you're right, I am a teacher's assistant. But there's something you should know about it..." His eyes don't move from your swollen and bruised lips, with traces of sweet lip gloss slightly smeared on the side.

"Considering I don't have any power over the student's grades, there's really no problem for me to date one y'know?" Hawk's once again making direct eye contact with you, this time the lust in his eyes is more intense than before.

"Besides, be honest with me. You hate Miss Ito, and to be honest so do I."

You can't help blinking twice at his remark, nothing but silence fills the room.

"She may be a bright teacher, but the way she treats her students is unacceptable. That, and there's the fact she won't stop bothering me during free periods." He steps back slightly, pulling you by the wrists in the direction of the teacher's desk, right on the spot where he was sitting before.

"Wouldn't you like to get a bit of revenge on her? Just imagine, being fucked in the very same spot where she grades your exams..."

His words leave you thinking deeply, and you're so deep in thought about it you don't even realize what's going on for a second until you feel his strong arms lifting your body with ease.

You never thought you'd be doing something like this, but here you are, sitting over the desk where your teachers give their lessons, all while one of the hottest men in campus is about to do such depraved things to your body.

"So...What's it gonna be?" His hands are caressing your knees, rubbing circles on the tender skin as he anticipates an answer. If looks could kill his would have burned you a long time ago from the fiery passion behind it.

Your own hands grab on the sides of his face, pulling him closer into a sloppy but swift kiss before you look him in the eye once again.

"Just be gentle, alright...?" The look in your eyes tells him everything he needs to know. Hawk's eyes once again have a mischievous glint deep inside.

"I promise you, by the time we're done here," He kisses your jaw softly. "You'll never want someone to be 'gentle' with you again."

He leans forward for another kiss, and this time, you eagerly kiss him back, the hands resting on your knees pry them apart slowly, giving him enough space to stand in between them.

The heat of his body, along with that intoxicating cologne of his makes the experience even more satisfying, small moans escape your mouth as his hands go under your shirt to caress the skin underneath, his touch feels so...delightful on your skin, almost good enough to make you forget about all of your troubles and dive into an euphoria induced dream.

His hands stop at the clasp of your bra, meticulously unclasping the lingerie, you can feel the fabric becoming loose at the front, but he makes no movement to fully take off your top.

Instead his hands just leave their place at your back to pull both the top and the piece of lingerie until it's all ruffled over your neck, he pulls away from the kiss to look down, and it leaves you flustered when he won't stop staring at your bust with intensity.

"...What?" You ask with embarassment, and he can't help laughing at your reaction.

"Am I not allowed to enjoy the view?"

"Stop it Hawks!" He gives you a look full of authority, it makes your body tremble in arousal, the dampness between your legs is proof enough of the effect this guy has on your body.

"Stop calling me that, and start calling me Keigo."

"But I-"

"Would you prefer to call me 'Daddy' instead?"

You give him an incredulous look, face once again flushed by his words.

"Keigo you son of aaaahhhh-" The words die in your throat, replaced by a sharp intake of breath instantly after he engulfs one nipple with his mouth, causing another wave of shivers to shake your whole body to the core.

You try to fight them back, but the whimpers come out victorious and escape through your lips in a rush. It makes Hawks...No, Keigo, smirk victorious, but it's hard to take him serious when he has one of your boobs in his mouth.

He releases the wet bud with a small "pop!", and caress the tip with his index finger, the friction makes another whimper come out, once again making his smirk confidently.

"Look at you. We're just getting to the good part, and you're already a moaning, trembling mess." He looks down in between you legs with a hungry, predatory stare that could make anyone shrink before him.

"It's a good thing you choose to wear a skirt today."

A hand dips down under said piece of clothing, rubbing a damp spot underneath with their middle finger, right where your still clothed and damp slit throbs, craving more of the deliciously immoral graze.

Fuck...

You can't hold back anymore, and you don't want to either.

You're about to have sex in a classroom.

YOUR CLASSROOM.

"What is it princess?" Keigo growls in satisfaction, enjoying how you're finally starting to let those sweet moans out without a care in the world. "Something you'd like to say? Can't say I'm not enjoying seeing you fight back all those sweet moans."

Someone could walk in any minute now, Miss Ito could be walking in any moment as well, but nothing matters anymore.

All you want is for him to take your body however he pleases.

You pull on the collar of his shirt, pulling him into another sloppy and fervent kiss. He really like this new side of you. Always be wary of the quiet ones they say.

His hands sneaks inside the panties, two fingers going deep inside your velvet walls with a slow pace. The friction is so addicting, and you can't help it when your hips move against your will, craving for more.

"Keigo..." You're panting, eyes clouded with desire. "Please take me, I can't wait any longer!"

That's all he needed to hear. But just to make sure you'll enjoy every single moment...

"As much as I'd love to be inside you already." His fingers start picking up speed, you yelp in surprise at the sudden increase of his movements. "I want you enjoy every single part of this. After all, it's your first time, isn't it?"

Between the nerves of being caught and his ministrations you can barely think straight, but your brain still manages to process his words, and it leaves you surprised.

"How?" This time he gives you a tender smile before kissing your temples.

"The way you kept trembling when I got closer? How you kept hesitating? It was pretty obvious, princess." Your walls clench around his fingers, he could tell you're pretty close, so he pulls back his fingers, leaving you hot, bothered and whining at the sudden lack of friction. "But don't you worry a pretty little hair, I'll take good care of you."

His arms hook themselves under your thighs, pulling them forward until his clothed and still throbbing girth brushes against your soaked pussy. The friction feels so fucking good. You can barely wait to feel the rest of it.

"Oh! right!" His hand goes inside his back pocket, and pulls out a small, blue package.

"...Do you always carry one of those around with you?" You squint at him in suspiciousness, and he gives you a sheepish grin in response.

"Nah, the nurse gave me a handful of them as a joke." Keigo quickly unbuckles his jeans, and lowers them along with his boxers just enough for his hard cock to spring out, it's average in length, but it makes up for it with thickness. Its head is also a prominent, reddish shade, throbbing and dribbling with precum.

You couldn't take you eyes off from it, and Keigo couldn't say he didn't like the attention.

He decides to put on a show, putting on the condom at such a slow pace to tease you for a bit. Seeing you squirm due the lack of body contact almost makes him come right on the spot.

Good thing the little piece of latex already comes with lube, not that he'd need much judging by the mess you're making below.

"Are you ready?" He asks, pulling aside your panties and resting his member over your sweet core. As desperately as he wants to pound you into the wooden surface, he'd rather double check, make sure you're completely comfortable with everything about to happen.

And make the experience so good, that you'll eventually come back to him crawling, begging for more of his sinful courtesy. So he can gladly give everything you ask for.

You pull him closer again, wrapping your arms around him with shaky hands. It's not that you're scared, but the nerves are hard to get rid of when it comes to having your first time with someone you've been crushing on for months.

"Please, I want you." You throw those words back at him.

He nods in response, kissing your face with a softness that could make anyone melt, and slowly, so very slowly starts pushing himself inside you. Keigo can hear you whimpering, not used to such a foreign feeling just yet.

It's not painful, but it makes you feel so unusually full once he's completely buried inside you. He also starts growling, savoring the feeling of your walls stretching, creating the perfect spot that fits his throbbing cock in such a delicious ways, it's almost impossible to describe how good you feel.

But one thing's certain, he can't get enough of it.

"God, you're so fucking tight." His voice is so low and hoarse, it nearly makes him sound feral, like a predator about to devour his prey.

And you, were the prey.

"Ahhh...So good, it feels so good being inside my princess."

Your arms grab onto the back of his shirt, bodies plastered against each other so nicely, fitting together just like a puzzle.

Like you were meant for each other from the very beginning.

Keigo pecks you on the lips tenderly. Hips pulling back carefully until nothing but the head is left inside, and then he gives a deep thrust that nearly knocks your whole breath away. Neither of you are capable of holding back the noises, and you don't want to either.

For the first time since you started college, you're glad to be in one of the classrooms in the fourth floor, as far away from prying ears as possible.

"Keigo, oh my god." Your body finally begins to relax, and Keigo can feel it too. He's grateful your insides are finally getting used to having him inside you, otherwise he probably would have come already from the tight clutch of your sweet and slippery cunt.

The moment he feels you completely relaxed it's where the real action begins. He pulls your arms away from him and lays you down over the whole surface.

The palm of his hand plants itself besides your head, acting as a support, otherwise he probably would have fallen over you, too lost over the pleasure your body provides him. The other hand is busy holding on to your hips for dear life, digging his nails on the skin and leaving a painful yet addicting feeling behind, as well as a couple of marks on the bruised skin.

"Remember when I said you'd never want something 'gentle' after this?" He smirks, looking down at you with such dominance, you can't even process any type of thought that's not related to him anymore. "Well, I always keep my promises. Princess."

In the blink of an eye he starts thrusting so hard and fast that you can't help it when the moans start getting louder. Keigo moves with a pace so strong, so fast, and so passionate that rattles the whole desk. It makes your thoughts wander in place, imagining the loud slam that could probably be heard across a room should he be fucking you in bed.

"Hey..." A snap of his fingers brings you back to the present, and to a frowning blond. "Eyes on me princess, or is this too boring for you?"

He stops moving altogether, even despite your desperate whines at the sudden halt of his thrust, but Keigo's a persistent man, and a teasing little shit who adores making you squirm underneath him.

"Keigoooo!" You hips move on their own, trying to get some more of that delicious feeling of his cock against your velvet walls. It doesn't last for long though, as both of his hands have a unshakable hold on your sides, completely preventing you from grinding against him any longer.

"If you really want more..." His hands travels all the way down to your aching sex, rubbing a single digit against your clit and drawing out a high pitched moan. "Then beg for it...Tell me, just how much you really want it."

"I..." You can't even form a proper sentence, an endless stuttering from his finger rubbing harder against the small bud, preventing you from doing so.

You can't talk, you can barely think, but you need him.

"I want you...to fuck me harder. P-Please Keigo, I really, really need your c-cock!" That's all you can say, and that's all he needs to hear. Keigo begins moving again, this time at such a brutal pace that makes everything go white. The sound of his balls slapping against your ass echoes loudly all around the classroom, and the smell of sex engulfs the whole room.

"That's much better!" He growls, satisfied with the way your head falls back when he hits a certain spot. Keigo gives another harsh thrust, making you scream from how good it feels to have him ravish your body like this.

You're so caught up in the moment, drowning in ectasy from every push. Then you feel it, the way your insides twist from the upcoming orgasm as he begins rutting mercilessly, kissing your womb over and over again.

"Keigo!" There's something about the way you scream his name, that makes his length twitch as it slips back and forth inside your cunt. And his pace begins to waver once he feels his own climax approaching. "I'm coming...!"

"You're coming princess? You want to cum all over my cock?" He gives another sharp thrust, drawing out another moan from you. By this point he could guess your throat is more likely sore from how loud you're getting. And he adores it.

"Do it then," He gasps, head burying itself on your shoulder and biting down on the soft flesh, that is definitely going to leave a mark. "Come for me, make a mess all over this desk, so every time you're in class you'll never forget what happened here behind everyone's back!"

He knows the effect his words have on you, that grin on his face says it all as he watches your body convulsing, trembling as your very first orgasm shakes your senses. He follows after you almost immediately, utterly overwhelmed after the had clenching of your walls around him.

You're both feeling exhausted, attempting to calm your heavy breathing. During that brief period of time, you keep wondering if what happened would be just a one time thing. And once the both of you walked out of the room, Keigo would tell you to pretend nothing happened.

In a way, it makes a small aching dig it's way inside your heart.

"Hey princess, what's with the long face?" Keigo's face leaves its place on your shoulder, worried you might be regretting everything that happened just a minute ago. "I told you there would be no problem in getting involved with me."

"I know," Slowly your hands release their hold on his shirt, leaving behind a couple of wrinkled spots. "But this changes everything. Was this just a one time thing?"

"Oh, that's what you're worried about?" His questions comes out so casually it almost gives you whiplash from how fast you turn to look at him, brows raised high in confusion.

Once again he grabs your chin between his fingers. This time with a softer look in his eyes than when he first proposed this debauchery.

"I meant what I said before, I've never met someone like you before." He gives a soft peck to your jaw, lips lingering in place momentarily. His eyes are closed, deep in thought as he thinks carefully about his next words.

"The question is. Do you, want this to be a one time thing?" He's making eye contact with you again. "Or do you want this to go further?"

"I, want to get to know you better, Keigo." The answer is barely audible, but he manages to hear it, judging by the soft look he gives you.

"That's all I need to hear. Now, what do you say we get out of here? The janitor should be arriving any moment now, and honestly." He pulls out his already soft member, making you whimper slightly at the sudden emptiness. "I'd rather be the only one seeing you like this."

Quickly you both try fixing yourselves as much as you can. Thankfully you always carry a small package of napkins, and quickly clean up the dripping mess between your legs before fixing up your clothes.

As well as the dirty predicament on the desk, the janitor's not to blame for the consequences of Ito's attitude after all.

You both walk out of the classroom carefully. Thankfully Keigo didn't have anything pending, so nobody came looking for him during your little "chat". But if any of your friends happened to see this, you'd never hear the end of it from them.

..........

Just like Keigo predicts, the next time you walk inside the classroom everything that happened last Friday comes back. And when Miss Ito's lesson finally starts, you have to fight back the urge to give her that same mocking smile she gave you last time.

If that's not satisfying enough, then the moment the whole school witnesses her outrage after she makes another move on Hawks, just for the teacher's assistant to mention he's already seeing someone definitely is a sight nobody will ever forget. Particularly after she's finally called into the principal's office for her lack of professionalism.

The whole school ends up celebrating the event. And you definitely will celebrate once again after class, judging by the subtle looks Keigo sends your way after the ordeal.

Taglist: @bnhabookclub @gallickingun @hawks-senseis @honeytama @savagetrickster @unbreakableeiji @wakaoujisenhime

#bnha imagine #mha imagine #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha smut #mha smut #hawks smut #keigo takami x reader #takami keigo #hawks #bnha hawks

2K notes · View notes

masterthespianduchovny · 3 years ago

Text

I’m going to be honest before I get to the Sam/Rebecca subplot: if they drop plots threads indicating that this continue into the next season and uplift this pairing, I’m out.

This storyline is gross and I can see why some people quit the show when the revealed happened.

When I say I’m repulsed by age gap relationships of this nature, this isn’t a shipping thing or a race thing. This is a moral and ethical thing. Because it’s not just an age gap, it’s also that Rebecca is Sam’s boss. I legitimately don’t see how people can overlook this and ship how “cute” this is. I’m not judging anyone, it just genuinely doesn’t make sense to me.

And for people who think I’m a hypocrite, Ted/Rebecca is not the same. Sam and Rebecca is like a principal dating a student. If you want to age Sam up, because people love to accuse others of infantilizing Sam, it’s like the president of a college dating a student. In both cases, there would be backlash, and have been, to these types of relationships.

Which would make Ted’s position that of a teacher/professor or someone higher. In most cases, there aren’t objections, however, both parties have to be transparent about their relationship and careful about how and if that influences their professional relationship with each other and others.

Last week, I mentioned a friend of mine who was 18 and dated someone who was 28. Both are white for reference. When I found out their ages and respective positions, I became concerned and doubly concerned.

Oh, they had chemistry and he made her so happy, but he was also controlling as fuck and emotionally abusive. During the duration of their relationship, he became her boss and would monitor her interactions via cameras in the back office. She was stressed out as fuck and would go to the bathroom to cry. You know, where cameras weren’t and where he couldn’t enter.

And it was a secret relationship because he could get in trouble. I didn’t say anything because she was with her boyfriend before she knew me. Me telling someone could’ve gotten him in trouble or fired, but that wouldn’t have ended the relationship. It would’ve made her end our friendship and cling closer to him. Instead, after I quit for other reasons, I sporadically checked on her to see how she was doing and give her advice and resources.

As far as the actual episode itself goes, I struggled to enjoy it due to the Sam/Rebecca situation. It should’ve ended at dinner at most.

The only emotional beat that landed, imo, was Jamie and Roy’s hug. I do think Ted’s confession was strong, but the flow was kinda weird for me. By itself it works.

Two things working for me that wasn’t at the forefront of the episode was 1. How Ted’s problem is fucking over the team. 2. That Nate is in over his head.

Even if AFC Richmond had lost with Ted being in his A game, it wouldn’t have been that made and the team would’ve been more competitive. They were sloppy and making baffling errors. Their head was not in the game and it showed. Man City wasn’t that good, Richmond was just that ill prepared.

And who led training?

Nate.

Nate has great instincts, but he isn’t ready to lead a team and he still has a lot of work to do before growing into coaching a team as head coach.

But let me stress, this falls completely on Ted and even Beard to an extent. Yes, Ted is having emotional issues, however, many people rely on him and he wasn’t there. I don’t mean literally because teams should be able to function without their head coach for stretches of time. He hasn’t been there mentally and emotionally for most of the season. Because AFC Richmond’s competition isn’t as premier as Man City, it’s easier to appear more dominant that you are, esp if you’re coach isn’t on his A game. However, when you’re up against actual Goliath’s in the league, you’ll get your ass handed to you like Richmond did.

As I mentioned earlier, if they do go through with supporting and uplifting Sam/Rebecca, my time with this fandom ends with the season 2 finale.

But if we take Ted’s dark forest into consideration, there is another way this could play out. Actually many.

The one I can see happening that can get her somewhat redeemed, because some will never get over this happening in the first place, is her hitting rock bottom via her relationship with Sam. Something will happen or make her have unflattering thoughts about herself and her actions that will drive her into a tailspin.

And I’m unsure if it’ll be just a personal crisis or if it’ll also be a professional crisis.

Some may disagree with me, but I do want this affair to come to light. Because if it doesn’t, it sets up this fucked up precedent that Rebecca can do fucked up shit and get away with it in private.

Rebecca fucked over her club, uprooted a man’s life in bad faith, and almost ruined several people’s careers due to her bullshit in the first season. The fact that she didn’t have to answer for any of this is a God damn mercy on Ted’s part even though she didn’t ask for it.

Now for her to date/fuck a player because “she just has to know.” Because she doesn’t want to let something pass her by?

Yeah…no.

Rebecca’s fear of loneliness is leading her to make very bad decisions and I fear what this means for Sam’s career and relationships if this breaks. There were people who allegedly care for Sam, yet cheered for this relationship to happen. What do you think happens with his locker room relationships? I’ve already explained in another post that either this sours those relationships OR they want favors from him because he’s dating/fucking the boss.

He’ll get crucified in the media. He may even have trouble getting employed. Why? Because that’s how racism works.

“But, masterthespianduchovny, if Sam may receive hate and racist acts committed against him, why do you want the affair exposed?”

Because this shit show of a relationship isn’t about just Sam. It’s about Rebecca’s fear of loneliness leading her to make bad decisions that effects everyone not just her and Sam. It’s the fact that a white woman isn’t thinking about how her actions could have major consequences for a young black man.

Rebecca is so obsessed with not being lonely and being loved that 1. She never sought help or productive ways to deal with the fall out and humiliation of her marriage. 2. She dated a man because he was “fine” and not because she was actually invested in him and the relationship 3. She’s getting involved with a player on her team without thinking of any of the consequences. 4. She’s not considering the other players, the coaches, or anyone else she’s responsible for.

Oh, and considering we got that call from Sam’s dad…his relationship with his father will most likely suffer as a result. AND now that Dubai Air thing looks suspect, esp because she was talking to him around that time unknowingly.

Oop! And isn’t she getting her relationship with Nora back on track? Even though Nora and Sam can’t legally date and I’m not saying every decision should be swayed by a teenage girl, however, Rebecca is literally sabotaging every relationship just because she’s afraid of being alone (I agree with another poster who said we really didn’t need to explore this storyline, but alas…)

Although Ted forgave Rebecca for her scheming in season one, I honestly don’t think he’d be so forgiving for this. It’s his job to protect players and look out for their well being and how can he one his boss is involved with one of his players, which again, affects others players. This relationship has major consequences for other people who are not in it.

Also, Sam…for someone who people love to say is mature enough to date an older woman, not once did even be consider the ramifications of getting involved with the boss.

Not once.

And that looks bad because a mature person his age would be mindful of such a thing. This isn’t considered or, at least, isn’t said onscreen. Sam os either thinking with his dick, his heart, or both, but he isn’t thinking with his head. Because there is no way you’re thinking with your head and don’t stop to say, “hey, this thing could jeopardize my relationship with my teammates and the other people I work with. Maybe I should think some more of this before pursuing a relationship with my boss.” Sam was all in from the moment he decided he wanted to have dinner with Rebecca. There was no thinking on his end.

But Sam’s super mature, right?

Another poster mentioned that there might be a screaming match between Rebecca and ted and I’m so here for that. No, I don’t think this argument will be romantic. They’ll have legitimate gripes with each other, but yeah…this is an argument that needs to happen. Which will most likely be before Rebecca gets help.

That’s all assuming this happens. Like I said, they could have Sam and Rebecca being a power couple (🤮), or handle this some other way. But if this is going to be framed as a good thing, others can enjoy it, but the show will have one less viewer from me.

#ted lasso #Rebecca welton #sam obisanya #ted lasso spoilers

58 notes · View notes

kyluxtrashpit · 3 years ago

Text

Okay so I jokingly mentioned I have an entire rant on twitter and then people wanted to see it so I’m gonna crosspost here too cause why not

(Note: includes spoilers for Major Grom and Plague Doctor comics, has nothing to do with the movie. It’s regarding what I strongly predict will happen in volume 8, which comes out next week)

(Second note: I’m gonna tag this with ‘long post’ even though it’s behind a cut for the sake of mobile users to go blacklist literally right now if they’re not interested cause I included the relevant comic panels and thus it’s LONG sdklsdklsdks)

Anyway: why Sergey must be the one to personally rescue Oleg in volume 8, from a narrative point of view

In order for Sergey and Oleg's relationship, regardless of how you want to define it, to move forward with positive momentum, this /must/ happen. The narrative demands it in order to bring closure. Why? Well, let's get into it by analyzing what we have so far

1) While I do fully believe Oleg trusts and forgives Sergey (and I’m not gonna go into proof of that here, as others have before), there is a constant spectre hanging over them. A spectre in the shape of 5 bullets. We are reminded constantly of it, largely in the form of Sergey's guilt, which is something we haven't gotten any real closure on yet. Sergey believes himself only capable of destruction, which is literally represented using a picture of him and Oleg.

The rift in their relationship is why Sergey doubts himself. The lasting physical effects bother him as well and we are all but beaten over the head with it - Sergey can't forget and neither can we, the audience. Oleg, too, has to live with this, even if he has made his peace with it

In fact, his long term injuries are what cause him to be captured in the first place. This situation, from a narrative pov, is thus Sergey's fault - if not for the 5 bullets, it's implied Oleg could've won. But no, he's captured and tortured, because of what Sergey did

What Oleg does or doesn't think of that is honestly irrelevant; the narrative is what's setting this up as a direct consequence. Also, whether or not Oleg has forgiven Sergey is also irrelevant because Sergey hasn't forgiven himself. This is what the story has presented and thus what it needs to conclude.

2) We are all also aware that Oleg has rescued Sergey more than once, even when it was ill-advised. The first time, sure, there's some risk, but it’s still in the range of manageable. But the second time? Not only was it more dangerous, given all that was going on in the immediate aftermath, he’s also risking himself to rescue someone who shot him 5 times. Oleg is cautious; he keeps Sergey in a cell presumably until he feels safe freeing him, but he still did it. He planned it, had that place ready, faked their deaths, all of it. He did that after the 5 bullets

So Sergey isn't lying when he tells Lera they don't leave their people behind. Oleg has been there for Sergey before, rescued him no matter the dangers, continues to stay by his side, and even cares enough to make sure he sleeps. Given this, how could Sergey not be ready and willing to return the favour?

3) Every outside character who knows anything about their relationship believes it to be imbalanced. The mercenary, Altan, Vadim, and even Lera. They all say this, they all point out the 5 bullets, that oh, Oleg, why does he stay?

While they don't have the insight us readers do, this tension is here for a reason, especially coupled with the previous two points. Even if we know better, the narrative is offering us a kernel of doubt. Does Sergey really care? Will he go as far for Oleg as Oleg has for him? Did he really mean those apologies? Or are the others right? Even Oleg, although I do think he's lying to protect Sergey, says he has doubts. Vadim seems certain Sergey will come, yet still calls Oleg “Mr. Stockholm Syndrome”.

The equality of their relationship is continually called into question - why do that if it's not going to be resolved? Why play this 'will he, won't he' game if he won't? Why set us up for disappointment? If Sergey doesn't go, all of this will remain unresolved and their relationship can only get worse, not better. The spectre will never leave them alone.

(One note here: I believe most of these perspectives are from unreliable narrators, given what details they give and that their accounts conflict with what we actually see. But these perspectives are included for a reason – imo, so that Sergey can prove them wrong)

4) The other thing the narrative tells us is that Sergey can be impulsive. Yes, he's brilliant, frighteningly so, but it's Oleg that is constantly urging caution. Sergey is aware there are risks, yet he forges ahead anyway, restrained (sometimes) only by Oleg's advice.

Why would that change now? If anything, with how distressed Sergey seems to be, I'd argue he'd be even /more/ impulsive than usual because he's too emotional to think right.

And who's going to urge caution, if not Oleg? Lera? I doubt he would listen if she did and, to be frank, why would she care if Sergey gets hurt? She knows him primarily as the one forcing her into a situation that is having serious negative effects on her life. Her secondary knowledge is that he's a murderer and terrorist. Much as it's fun to think of them all having a friendly relationship, Plague Daughter and all that, that’s not where they are right now. She might from a logical point of view, just because it is very obviously a trap, but Sergey knows that - her saying it isn't going to convince him of anything. Even if she did try, I don't think it'd have any effect.

5) And lastly, Lera is absolutely not ready for this fight. This isn't some regular asshole on the streets; Vadim is a professional killer. He beat Oleg in a fight and, even with his injuries, we all saw the kitchen fight. We know what Oleg is capable of. I love Lera with my whole being and she is a badass, but she's not ready for this. She had trouble with Kamenny, who honestly may have let her win under Altan's instructions.

Even still, Vadim is MUCH better and, much as Altan wants PD alive, I don't think he much cares in what condition. Best case scenario is that Lera gets captured too, and Vadim likely wouldn't hesitate to kill her, and then Sergey has to go himself anyway. Lera may come to help, but Sergey needs to be there. If Sergey really is better than Oleg at present, he's the one who needs to fight Vadim (with a plan, obviously, and maybe some extra backup).

In conclusion, all of this comes together to say one thing: Sergey needs to go. He needs to prove to himself, to the audience, and most of all to the narrative that no, this relationship isn’t one-sided, and that he will go as far for Oleg as Oleg has gone for him. The narrative made this a big point of tension, insisted upon it, beat us over the head with it, and now has teased at Sergey’s opportunity to put up or shut up. It has to be Sergey, both practically because Lera isn’t ready yet, and in order to be a satisfying story. Because if he doesn’t, that tension isn’t resolved. His guilt will only grow after failing Oleg once again, despite Oleg sticking with him through everything, and it would have been by his own choice, not because of the Bird’s influence or anyone else. He will know it. Oleg will know it. We will know it. And their relationship can only sour from there. There will be no more possibility for positive momentum, only negative.

As a last point, I will also say that I’m aware my anxieties may be unfounded. These creators do seem to legitimately care about these characters, telling a good story, and satisfying the audience. But I’ve been burned by pieces of media where that is not the case, so it’s hard for me to trust and not doubt, even with creators who have, so far, not let me down lmao.

Anyway, thank you for coming to my tedtalk, I’m sure I missed something I would’ve liked to add but holy shit this is absurdly long already sdklsdklsk so uh bye ✌️

#serovolk #сероволк #sergey razumovsky #сергей разумовский #oleg volkov #олег волков #чумной доктор #plague doctor #bubble comics #meta #hey everybody friendly reminder I was a meta writer before I wrote fic skdlsdksld #lmao anyway enjoy... whatever this is #my cats have heard it enough times and twitter has been spammed to hell with it #so now it's your turn tungle friends!#shut up nerd #text #long post #major grom

106 notes · View notes

chaoticpuff17 · 4 years ago

Text

Suga We’re Going Down

part 5

masterlist

alright my darlings! here it is, and its a long one! and I have some links for you today! you can visit the National Palace Museum here! The website allows you to virtually explore this beautiful museum! as well as a link to the song she plays later in the chapter here. Enjoy, my darlings!--- chaotic puff

Everything was better when she was with Eun Jae. Her little guy was her favorite person in the world. Halmeoni was confused as to why she was spending a Monday night at the house, but she allowed it without too many questions. It was one of the things that Y/N loved the most about the old woman. She knew when to push, and when to let things lie. Halmeoni knew that she was knew that Y/N would talk to her when she was ready, and Eun Jae was happy to have his mother there with him.

He was a sweet kid. He really was, and there was nothing she loved more than cuddling up with him, but their little bubble had to burst eventually. The next day came too quickly for her, and much to her horror, Jackson was waiting for her outside when she and Eun Jae left the house both with their backpacks on.

“Miss Kang.” He greeted smile bright on his face until he caught sight of the toddler hanging onto her hand. His expression dropped into one of shock before a softer smile crept across his features. “Hi, buddy.” He greeted bowing slightly to the toddler who immediately hid behind his mother’s leg. Jackson was unphased though. “My name is Jackson. What’s yours?”

Eun Jae looked up at her as if asking for confirmation that it was okay to interact with this stranger. She nodded giving him a soft smile of her own as she gently pushed him forward. “Go on.” She encouraged not wanting to be rude. It was important to her that Eun Jae grew up with good manners. She did not want him to end up like his parents or her parents for that matter.

“I’m Eun Jae.” The toddler muttered ducking his head quickly before burying his face in her leg again.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Eun Jae.” Jackson stood up rubbing his neck as he glanced back at the car. “We’re going to need to get a car seat installed.”

Y/N froze. “You’re not going to have to tell Mr. Min about this, are you?”

Jackson’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Mr. Min doesn’t know?” She shook her head. “I don’t…”

She glanced down at Eun Jae making sure he was distracted before she started speaking to Jackson her voice low and rushed. “He’s my sister’s kid. She walked out, so he’s mine now. Mr. Min doesn’t need to know about him. My family doesn’t affect him.”

Jackson nodded in understanding. Family was family. Business was business. He could respect her wish to keep her family out of it, and the fierce spark in her eye was enough to convince him that he didn’t want to mess with her when it came to her family.

“I won’t lie to him, but I won’t tell him either.” He promised. “Do you have a car seat we can use for now?” She shook her head no. “Okay…” He thought for a moment. “We could….”

“I’m not taking him in that car without a car seat.” She snapped seeing the direction his thoughts were going. “We’ll take the bus like we normally do, and if you really want to drive us, you can come pick us up, with a car seat, at the end of the day.” She nodded giving him a firm glare before she smile turning back to the toddler. “Let’s go to the bus stop, buddy. Say bye-bye to, Mr. Wang.”

Eun Jae unburied his head from her leg and waved goodbye shyly.

“Bye, Eun Jae.” Jackson waved with a smile of his own as Y/N led the little one away a little more quickly than she would have normally.

She just wanted everything to go back to normal, but it was too late for that now. She’d already signed the deal, and everything else would have to wait until they were back on their feet and far away enough from financial ruin that there was no need for her to be signed away to Min Yoongi. But that was a long way off as of yet. For now, she’d focus on Eun Jae and classes. There was no use worrying over things she couldn’t change.

She dropped Eun Jae off at his preschool and then made her way to her own school. She’d see him later. She’d promised Halmeoni that she would drop him back off, as she had a doctor’s appointment today and couldn’t pick him up herself, and neither of them trusted her father to get him from school. If they did that, Eun Jae would never get picked up, and they would receive a very angry phone call from the preschool wondering why no one had come for Eun Jae.

Thankfully the day passed much as it always did up until her classes were over, and then there was Jackson waiting for her with that damned car.

Despite her sour look, he met her with a smile.

“I got the car seat!” He announced proudly as he opened the door to the backseat for her.

“I can see that.” She sighed as she slipped inside. “It’s a bit early to pick up Eun Jae yet.” She informed him. “I usually go home after class, but Halmeoni can’t pick him up today.” She explained.

“Well, what would you like to do in the mean time?” He asked as they pulled away from her university. She was silent thinking it over, and Jackson was suddenly struck by how young she was. She looked a little lost sitting there in the back of a car that was much too large for just one person. “Perhaps, we could go to spoil you for a moment.” He suggested.

“What do you mean?” She asked staring at him in the rear view mirror.

“Well, you have to go meet Mr. Min eventually, and he would want you to treat yourself.” He shrugged. “Get your hair done, your nails. Go buy yourself something nice. It’s on his dime.”

Her eyes widened in shock. “I really don’t think…?”

“You’re Agust D’s girl now. You have to look like Agust D’s girl. And you never know when he’s gonna call for your first date. Don’t worry. He’ll pay for it.”

She hadn’t thought about that. Technically, Yoongi was responsible for her clothing budget, but would it be added onto her payment like a reimbursement or did it only cover the things he wanted her to wear? But then again, Jackson said it was covered, and he’d been so nice. Maybe it would be okay to do something for herself. She was meant to look a certain way, she supposed.

“So what’s it gonna be, chickadee?” He asked flashing her a smile in the mirror.

“Nails maybe?” She fidgeted uncomfortably not knowing what to do. It felt odd to have access to someone else’s bank account.

“Nails it is.” Jackson nodded driving them off in the direction of the nearest nail salon.

As weird as it all was, she had to admit it was nice to get her nails done. She never had them done before, not professionally at least, and this was better than anything she’d ever been able to do on herself. She was musically inclined, not artistically, but there was still a feeling of guilt, of spending money on herself when her family needed the money far more than she needed a manicure. Her nails were never long anyway. Musicians didn’t normally keep long nails. It was odd to see them painted so prettily.

Staring down at her nails she had to wonder if this was going to be her life now. Would she have to look all put together all the time? Would she be constantly worrying that Yoongi would find out about Eun Jae? She didn’t want to be constantly worrying. She knew worry. She already had too much to worry about, and worry was exhausting. She couldn’t afford to be any more exhausted than she already was. There was too much to do these days.

She glanced down at her phone wondering when her first summons would come in. He had promised she’d be seeing him soon, but when was soon? Did they start having their meetings this week or next week? Either way she was expected to meet with him at least three times a week, not counting extra meetings he could ask for. Those at least she could refuse so long as she had a good reason, but she was smart. She was sure she could get out of a good majority of the extra meetings so long as Yoongi didn’t catch onto her dodging him.

She knew she wouldn’t be able to avoid all extra meetings, but she could dodge some of them. She’d have to. She needed time with Eun Jae, and she knew that weekends would be hard to balance between Yongi and Eun Jae especially when she hadn’t told Yoongi about Eun Jae’s existence. They were the two men in her life even if Yoongi’s stay was only temporary. That did not make him any less a part of her life though. For now, at least, he was quite a major part of her life, and she’d have to treat him as such.

“Where to now, miss?” Jackson asked pulling her out of her thoughts.

“The preschool.” She gave him the address with a strained smile as she began to wonder how she was going to balance everything out. She had other jobs. She had school. She had Eun Jae. She knew this was the best way to settle their debts, but what had she been thinking when she’d agreed to this? How was she ever going to make this work?

Jackson took her home after they dropped off Eun Jae with Halmeoni. She rather unfortunately had a date to prepare for. She’d gotten the text while she’d been signing Eun Jae out of preschool. It was short, precise, a simple message saying for her to be ready by seven o’clock and the promise that appropriate attire would be delivered to her home. Other than that and a promise from Jackson Yoongi and his driver would pick her up later, she knew nothing.

When she arrived home, she was met with a package on her doorstep. She had to give it to him, he was nothing if not efficient. There was still hours before she expected him, but it at least gave her time to get ready even if he hadn’t told her where they were going.

The box contained a modernized hanbok. The top was done in layers. The first was white, and undershirt. The second was in a lovely shade of purple that trailed down towards her knees, and the last layer was a black jacket type piece. There was a black pair of pants to match, and a thick traditional style belt to tie everything together. There was also a pair of ankle boots which to her immense relief looked comfortable. The heel was thick and not too high. She could actually walk in them. Anything too tall or with a stiletto was always a bit of a challenge for her. The next thing she picked out where the two smaller boxes that contained her jewelry for the evening. One was a pair of lovely earrings, the other was a hair pin. It was a lovely piece with the main part crafted too look like a branch while the decorative piece at the end was fashioned into tiny silver leaves and little off shooting branches that surrounded a smooth round piece of jade with a silver stripe slashed through the middle. It reminded her of the moon.

There was one final thing in the box that caused her to laugh in disbelief. There sitting in the bottom of the box was something she had skipped over when she was looking at the hanbok and the shoes and jewelry, but there sitting at the bottom of the box, was a coat. It was a long thick wool coat that would hang down to her mid-calf. At the very bottom of the box, underneath the coat there was a note written in short quick strokes. The letters scrunched together slightly. It was the handwriting of someone who was used to writing in a hurry.

Because you won’t wear mine.

She had to laugh at that. He was respecting her wish not to wear his coat while at the same time taking care of his worry over her own coat. It was as sneaky as it was caring, and even she had to admit that it was a better coat than the one she had. It was warmer and better quality. And she very begrudgingly had to admit that she loved the entire outfit especially the coat.

She passed the first few hours till her date on homework. She had to get it done at some point after all. Even if she was a sugar baby now, school came first. School what was going to help in the long run, not Yoongi, but that didn’t mean she detested lesson planning any less. It was a necessary evil even if it left her wondering for the thousandth time why she had chosen to go into education.

Homework could only keep her occupied for so long though. Eventually, she had to get ready. It was simple enough. All she had to do was throw on the provided outfit, slap on some makeup, and pull her hair up into a bun sticking the hair pin through it, but then she was left to twiddle her thumbs as the minutes ticked by until Yoongi’s arrival.

In hindsight, she had begun getting ready too early. Now she had all this time on her hands to sit and think about what she was about to do. She had always been a worrier, and years of experience had taught her it wasn’t good to sit with her thoughts when she was nervous. The pent up nervous energy had her pacing the floor as she revisited the urge to tear her hair out from the roots. She hated that feeling, the feeling that your stomach is trying to crawl out of your throat. Worse than that, she felt as though she was going to crawl out of her own skin. She was buzzing with nerves.

Part of her couldn’t wait for Yoongi to arrive just to get this first date over with, but another more prominent part of her hoped that he would never arrive. But it was too late for thoughts like that, wasn’t it? She’d already signed the contract, and she was bound to it for a year. She could survive a year. It wasn’t like Yoongi was a creepy old man. He was young and handsome too. He was even kind, from what she had seen at least, and yet something just wasn’t right. He made her just the tiniest bit uneasy, and she couldn’t place her finger on why.

There was nothing about Yoongi that should have made her uneasy. He had been nothing but kind to her so far, but that didn’t stop that spark of unease telling her something was not quite right. She was determined to brush it off as nerves though. It had to be nerves just jumping to the worst case scenario as her mind was prone to do. She could blame that lovely habit on her wonderful parents. They hadn’t been a shining example of a good life. Something was always wrong when it came to them, and they’d taught her to expect the worst. It was almost a relief really that her mother was gone. She didn’t show up often, but when she did, she always brought trouble with her, and they really couldn’t afford any more trouble at the moment.

There was a knock on her door that pulled her out of her thoughts with a jump. That had to be him. With a deep steadying breath she got up and made her way to the door making sure to pull the coat closed around her before she did. There was nothing revealing about the outfit that he’d picked out, but she still felt exposed, but that had to be nerves as well. He made her nervous in a way that was completely different than the unease he gave her.

It was his eyes. Those eyes seemed to see straight through her without ever revealing anything about himself. They were almost catlike. He reminded her of a stray that used to hang outside of the restaurant. He was an old ornery creature, scruffed up from one too many fights with the other cats, but he had those same eyes. He’d stare at you as though he knew everything about you, and as a child, Y/N really believed it. She had been convinced that the cat knew all the secrets of the universe. Halmeoni had done nothing to dispel that belief either. She’d treated that scruffy old tomcat as though he was a prince. She’d told her that cats were bad luck, and that the old tomcat was a bad spirit. She kept the animal fed and watered as a way to appease the bad spirit. Now as an adult, Y/N wasn’t so sure that the cat hadn’t been a bad spirit. Her family certainly hadn’t had much good luck over the years, but it also wasn’t as bad as it could be.

Yoongi was like that cat. He, or at the very least the situation, was bad, but it wasn’t as bad as it could be. She doubted though that Yoongi was a bad spirit come to torment her family. He was honestly the best luck they had had in a while even if it wasn’t in an ideal way.

She opened the door with a smile and was met with Yoongi standing there waiting for her with his hands tucked into his coat pockets.

“Hi.” She murmured shuffling her feet awkwardly.

“Hi.” He murmured back offering her his arm with a small almost imperceptible smile of his own. “Let’s go.”

“Lead the way.”

She took Yoongi’s arm and let him lead her towards the elevator. “I see you got the coat.”

“I did.” She agreed suppressing an awkward smile not sure what to say or do with herself. “It’s very nice, thank you.”

“Well, you didn’t seem to want mine.”

“Oh!” She groaned before looking at him apologetically. “I completely forgot to give that back to you. I can run back up…”

“It’s fine.” He interrupted his lips quirking up a little bit on edges. “You should keep it.”

“It’s really fine!” She rushed. “I can just take the elevator back up. It’ll only take a minute.”

“Keep it.” He insisted his first actual smile of the evening stretching across his lips. “It looked good on you.”

He found the stunned expression on her face cute. Everything about her was cute, especially the blush that heated up her cheeks as she averted her eyes. She was just so innocent. How could anyone not like her? How could all those people in her life leave her in the mess that was her life? How could her family have put her in this position to begin with? On the one hand he was grateful that they had. It meant that he got her. But on the other hand, he was just so angry on her behalf. She was too sweet to for her family. They didn’t deserve her, sweet soul that she was.

“So, where are we going?” She asked as they walked out to the car.

“It’s a surprise.”

The drive wasn’t terribly long, but it was quiet. Neither she nor Yoongi were much for small talk. He didn’t seem the kind for small talk, and the jitters had left her grasping at straws for something to say. Coming up empty, she settled on silence. It was mercifully not an awkward silence though. She kept her attention on the city going by outside the window, and Yoongi, unbeknownst to her, kept his attention on her until they reached their destination.

“The museum?” She asked as Yoongi helped her out of the car. “It closes at six doesn’t it?” She turned to him in confusion, tugging her coat tighter around herself to ward of the evening chill.

“I rented it.” He shrugged wrapping an arm around her waist as he saw her shiver. He couldn’t do much for her until they got inside, but he could offer her what little body heat he could with a simple gesture.

“You rented the National Palace Museum?” She asked staring at him with wide eyes as he steered them towards the steps leading up to the entrance.

“Yep.”

“Just like that?” “Just like that.” He nodded leading her up the stairs. “I need to do some research for an upcoming mv. Thought it would be more fun with company.”

“So you rented the museum?”

The concept was mind boggling for her. Who rented a museum? She knew he was famous, but couldn’t he go to the museum like a normal person? Plenty of celebrities went out. A hat and a face mask worked well as a disguise, and no one would be expecting Agust d at the National Palace Museum. It didn’t exactly fit his image. The big tough rapper going to the museum? She didn’t think so. His fans wouldn’t exactly be looking for him there.

“Seemed like a nice date, and you don’t seem like the kind of girl who goes to clubs.” He shrugged again as the climbed the steps.

She bristled at that. “I go where you want me to go.” She sniffed straightening her spine. She knew she shouldn’t be offended. She wasn’t the kind of girl that went to clubs, but she was bristling anyway.

“I didn’t mean it badly.” He chuckled looking down at her fondly. “But this seemed like a better option, and I’d appreciate the company.”

She sighed forcing herself to relax as they reached the top of the stairs. “So what kind of mv are you making that needs research at the National Palace Museum?”

“It’s for a track called Daechwita. I wanted a historical vibe for it.”

“Daechwita is a traditional type of music.” She nodded understandingly. “Military march or royal procession type of vibe?” She asked as Yoongi helped her out of her coat once they got inside.

“Bit of both.” His eyes widened slightly as he took in the sight of her in the outfit he had picked out for her. It looked better than he had imagined it would.

The layers of the hanbok draped around her elegantly while the colors complimented her skin and hair wonderfully. It wasn’t sexy per say, but it was extremely hot to see her in something he had bought for her. His mind was already whirring with the possibility of all the things he could fill their wardrobe with. He planned on spoiling her rotten.

He liked seeing her hair pulled up as well. It exposed the length of her neck to him. He couldn’t wait to mark up that neck. She’d look so good covered in his marks, but she wasn’t ready for that yet, but soon.

“Then we’d better start researching.” She smiled eyes sparkling with excitement as Yoongi shed his own coat.

She couldn’t lie. She really did prefer the museum to the club, and the idea of being able to wander the museum after hours with no one else around was too exciting to pass up.

Yoongi grinned following after her as she wandered off into the first exhibition room.

He didn’t have to follow for long though as he found her just past the doors examining the first of the exhibits, a painted screen and a throne.

“Joseon Dynasty.” She said her arms folded comfortably around her. “The museum focuses mostly on the Joseon Dynasty. This screen, well the scene on the screen there are two more upstairs, traditionally sat behind the throne of the king.” She explained her eyes glued to the painted silk in front of them.

“It’s not a very intimidating throne.” He commented stepping up next to her. “Doesn’t look comfortable either.”

“Well, if you were king, you could make your throne look however you wanted.” She shrugged. “There’s been more than one throne, but the screen is traditional.”

“Why?” He asked wanting to hear her talk more. She was relaxed for once. She was never relaxed with him, and he didn’t want it to end. It was also cute to him how she seemed to know so much about the exhibit. She’d probably been before, but she was looking at the exhibit as though it was the first time.

“It represents harmony and balance. See how everything is symmetrical, fitting of the perfection of the king?” She motioned towards the screen drawing his attention from her and back to the exhibit. “Everything in it is long lasting, the mountains, the trees, the waterfalls. It’s supposed to represent the benevolence of the royals.”

“Even if the royal wasn’t benevolent?”

“Even if they weren’t benevolent.” She agreed.

“I’d pick a more comfortable throne.” He mused eyeing the wooden seat.

“Well, it’s not for lounging on.” She laughed looking at him with a bright smile.

“It could be.”

“Lazy king. Lounging on his throne instead of ruling.”

“Maybe he was a tyrant.”

“Maybe.” She agreed. “But look how beautiful it is. The detail that went into it.”

“It’s beautiful.” He agreed looking at the golden creatures drawn all over the panels of the throne, visions for his mv already taking hold in his head. “Why the screen though?”

She shrugged. “Screens normally sat behind the seats of the powerful. You see them in every historical drama. Sometimes more than one. Royalty needs to hold a sense of divinity and majesty. Everything from the clothes to the jewelry to the throne needed to display that.” She explained her tone soft, respectful. “It’s why the throne was always on a dais and why the king and queen always had opulent robes.”

“You know a lot about history.”

She startled a little blushing sheepishly. “It was always my favorite subject in school.”

He hummed nodding his head as he turned his attention back to the throne. “So the king should definitely have a screen.”

She nodded gently. “And lots of things in gold.”

He held out a hand to her, palm up. “Shall we?”

She eyed his hand for a moment, trying to decide if she wanted to take his hand or not. It was such a simple thing, holding someone’s hand, but it was such an intimate thing as well. Friendship, romance, comfort. Those were all things that could be conveyed in the simple act of holding another person’s hand. She’d have to do things that were much more intimate in this arrangement though, so she placed her hand delicately in his allowing his much larger hand to envelop hers as he led her to her next exhibit.

It was a case full of seals, all shaped like turtles. Each seal had a corresponding piece of paper stamped in red ink to show what the seal looked like when it was stamped.

“Why are they all turtles?” Yoongi asked staring down at the seals.

“Because they’re like dragons.” It was his turn to stare at her incredulously. Turtles like dragons?

“How is a turtle like a dragon?”

“They rule over all the bugs, and they live a long time, longer than anything else around them usually, like a dragon.” She explained smiling softly. “And turtles are cute.” She added on her smile stretching into a grin her nose scrunching up in a way that Yoongi found absolutely adorable.

“I still don’t think turtles are like dragons.” He shook his head repressing a grin of his own. It was so good to see her smiling though, not nervous smiles real happy smiles.

“Agree to disagree.” She shrugged before tugging on his hand leading him further into the exhibit. “That seal across from us is King Taejo’s seal.” She explained pointing across the room. “It’s why it gets its own case.”

“How do you know so much about all this?” He asked as they moved further into the exhibit.

“My grandfather was a history teacher.” She explained her smile dimming becoming softer, sadder. “He used to take me here when I was little.” He hummed in understanding waiting for her to continue. “He died when I was seven, but I’ve always loved history because of him, and he loved this place.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“He was a great man.” She hummed tilting her head as she thought. She shook her head slightly before a bright smile lit up her features, bright but a little strained. “Come on. There’s a lot more to see.”

And that’s how they went through the museum. Yoongi kept her hand safely tucked around hers. She pointed out her favorite exhibits, laughing about how uncomfortable the royal women’s palanquin looked compared to the king’s, and Yoongi hung off her every word, attentively taking note of the things that he could incorporate into his music video. He found her knowledge of the museum and its artifacts endearing. Her eyes would light up when she showed him her favorite exhibits. She’d been so tense and hesitant when she’d first taken his hand, but now every time they slipped apart for even a moment, she didn’t even flinch when they rejoined their hands. She had even been the one to grab his hand at one point, and Yoongi was practically beaming.

He had wanted something more secluded and easy for their first date, but he had never expected it to go as well as it had. The museum, the dinner for two he had set up for them on the second floor, it was all more perfect than he could ever imagine. She was perfect. He never wanted her to stop smiling. He loved that smile of hers. Just from this one night he had a million ideas, songs he wanted to write for her, places he wanted to take her. She liked hanok houses? He would buy her one. He’d buy her a piano and a cello too, the nicest cello he could find to fill the house with music. He’d buy her anything she wanted so long as she kept smiling at him like that.

It wasn’t nearly as bad as she expected either. Y/N actually found herself having a good time. Yoongi wasn’t so intimidating after all. She still had a lingering sense of unease at the back of her head, but it was easier to ignore now. Even if the intimate nature of the outing was a little too close to a date for her liking, she could actually see herself getting through the year now. It wasn’t going to be so bad. It helped that he was a gentleman. He pulled out her chair, helped her with her coat, opened doors, all those things that gentlemen are supposed to do. The happy atmosphere of the evening came crashing down though when Yoongi drove her home, but it wasn’t her home.

All the nerves came back with a fury. She was inexperienced, but she wasn’t naïve. She knew what was expected in their arrangement, but she that didn’t mean that she wasn’t horribly nervous. Yoongi could see it too. He watched all the color drain from her face as they pulled up to his building, but he squeezed her hand reassuringly as he led her into the building dismissing his driver for the night.

“It’s okay.” He assured her gently ushering her into the building as the escape route drove away leaving her stranded with Yoongi.

She nodded nervously, looking back at the entrance as though the car would magically appear to take her back to her own home.

Okay. Everything was okay. That was what she kept telling herself over and over again. It had to be okay, but she couldn’t stop the way her hands were trembling, and she was sure that Yoongi could feel it. Her hand was still enveloped by his own. She knew he’d noticed. He squeezed her hand reassuringly as he took her up to his penthouse apartment.

She had to admit that his home was beautiful, but it was too large for just one person. The apartment was done in shades of warm gray, and even though it was large, it still had the appearance of being lived in. Shoes were scattered by the door not having made it into the shoe rack. He flung their coats haphazardly across the table in the entryway before giving her a pair of guest slippers to wear. There was a coffee cup left out on the coffee table, and sheet music spread over the piano nestled in the corner of the living room.

It was the piano that drew her in. It was a gorgeous instrument. Coming closer she realized that a lot of the sheet music spread across the instrument was hand written.

“Did you write these?” She asked turning back to look at him where he stood a few feet away.

“Yeah.” He nodded moving forward a little.

“For the same album that the new mv is going to?” She asked picking up a few of the papers to look over the notes scribbled down in the same scrunched up scrawl that the note from the box had been in.

“Some of them.” He nodded coming up next to her to look at the particular song she was holding. “That one is for something else though.”

“What is it for?” She asked looking over to him.

“Not sure yet.” He shrugged.

“Can I try?” She asked tilting her head towards the piano, and a gummy grin spread across the man’s face.

“Please.”

She took a seat at the bench as Yoongi helped her arrange the sheets properly. “You’re sure this is okay?” She asked her fingers hovering over the keys.

He nodded again, and she turned her attention to the music.

“What tempo?” She asked noticing the lack of instruction. But it was hand written, and that was to be expected.

“Andante at the beginning. It builds up to be allegro around here.” He pointed out a particular measure and she nodded in understanding before putting her fingers to the keys.

Hand written notes were always a little harder to read, but his hand writing was neat enough if not a little scrunched. Her fingers drifted across the keys filling the room with the sound of his music. Yoongi thought his heart would stop. Hearing her play his music, in his home, it was like a dream, and she was as beautiful of a pianist as she was a cellist.

Her fingers danced across the keys, her attention fully on the music. It was enchanting, and Yoongi knew he had made the right decision as he watched her play.

She filled him with the desire to compose as well as an intense urge to protect her. She was such a sweet soul, and he hated that she’d been driven to this even if it brought him her. He would protect her though. He would always protect her.

When she finished she folded her hands gently in her lap.

“You play beautifully.”

She laughed smiling up at him contentedly. “You compose beautifully.” She complimented before looking down with a blushed. “It’s late. I should head home.” She stood up skirting around the piano bench.

“Stay.”

She froze looking at him like a deer caught in the headlights. “What?”

“Stay.” He repeated. “It’s late. Stay the night.”

He could see the panic setting in as her eyes darted across the room searching for an exit. “I really should…”

He huffed amused a smirk playing on his lips as he watched her. “No funny business. It was a busy day, and I’m tired. Stay.”

He watched as she debated her option her eyes flitting between him and the door. “I don’t…”

“I’d like you to stay, but you don’t have to.” He assured her slowly making his way towards her.

“Just sleep?” She asked her voice shaking slightly.

“Just sleep.”

She waited a minute, debating her options before sighing. “Okay.”

part 6

#bts #bts fic #yandere bts #bts suga #bts yoongi #yandere #yandere suga #yandere yoongi #suga we're going down #suga #suga x reader #min yoongi #yoongi x reader #rapper yoongi #agust d #bts fanfic

330 notes · View notes

eclecticstarlightconnoisseur · 3 years ago

Text

EDINBURGH TO BOSTON - CHAPTER 21 - SECRETS AND TRUTHS

Hello all, Finally the new chapter of Edinburgh to Boston is ready.

As I said in my update this has not been betaed. Therefore, any mistakes. lack of continuity or general mess-ups are all mine. I hope you will forgive me and overlook them. It took some re-writing when I read it over several times and I hope I caught all the mistakes.

This has been my baby for a long time and honestly, I think that was another reason that took so long to finish it as this is the last chapter. There will be an epilogue to clean up some things that are hanging around.

Just because this is the last chapter, does not mean this is the end. I can't really let go of these two people. They are so dear to my heart. Besides that, as I wrote this I realized that I did not totally address the opening premise that I made. If you recall I said that Fate and Destiny had their hands in seeing these two come together. There are other stories to tell about how such forces brought them together. I do plan a Part II but how I will do it has yet to be planned out.

I can't thank you all enough for being patient with me during times of difficulty when it took so long to get a chapter posted. I am so honored that so many of you liked this story which I honestly thought was going to fall flat on its face. I never dreamed I would get the response to it that I did. I thank you all for reading, commenting, giving the story some love. I am truly overwhelmed by your kindness.

As always I need to thank my betas who helped me along the way and gave me the encouragement to continue when I didn't think I could do it. @scubalass you're the best.

Without further ado and a tear in my eye, I give you Chapter 21 Edinburgh to Boston.

Edinburgh to Boston

Chapter 21

Secrets and Truths

“Come On! Come On! COME ON!” Claire groused at the tardy lift. It really wouldn’t do to be late for surgery on her first day back to work. She wanted to give the damn thing a good kick but thought better of it since she would be standing for most of the day. The idea of standing on a sore foot did not appeal to her.

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, what is taking this thing so long? For a new building, you would think they would have installed a better lift system.” Finally, the doors slid open on the fifth floor where the cardiothoracic surgery department offices were located.

She ran down the corridor trying to free herself from her coat while hanging onto the bag containing her morning fix.

Claire ran through the building’s front door shouting a greeting to Eddie, the security guard on duty. She made a beeline for the Cafe to get her morning coffee before going up to her office. It would be a long and trying day and the caffeine jolt would serve as her means of survival.

Niall stood behind the counter and grinned at her. “Late Dr. B?”

“Whatever made you think so?” she replied rather dryly. Her face was flushed and her hair exploded out from her wooly cap.

“Just a wild guess,” he smirked.

“Humph!” she snarled. “I would love to stand and chat with you but I have surgery in an hour. I’ll have a…”

“Here it is Dr. B. Large black coffee with one sugar and a raisin scone.” Niall smiled showing her the takeaway bag with her name on it.

She looked flustered, “How did you…”

“Dr. Fraser came by earlier. He ordered for you thinking you might be...um, in a hurry.”

“You say Dr. Fraser’s here already?” Claire grimaced ashamed of her lateness. It seemed, however, that curiosity got the better of her. Doing her best to look nonchalant, she casually asked, “Um, how did he look? Tired was he?” Dark smudges rimmed her eyes from lack of sleep. Claire would have liked nothing more than to curl up in bed and pull the covers over her head.

“Nay, no’ at all. Dr. Fraser said he worked out in the gym first then ran here. He looked quite hale and hearty actually. A wee bit pink from the cold, but truly well.”

“Of course, he did,” mumbling with annoyance to herself, “the man is made out of steel.”

Opening her overstuffed slouchy bag, she began the ritual of hunting for her wallet.

Cocking his head to the side, Niall pushed the bag toward Claire, “Oh, and he paid for this too.”

“Thank you, Niall and I’ll thank Fraser when I see him.”

Grabbing the bag, she made a mad dash toward her arch-enemy, the lift.

As usual, the ride to her floor became an act of slow torture and unmitigated agony. Once the lift doors opened, she sprinted down the corridor shaking one arm out of her coat while juggling her purse and the bag with its precious contents in the other hand. As she arrived outside her office door, her other arm managed to jiggle out of its sleeve. Finding the key to her office would require a balancing act considering the disordered state of her handbag. Placing her coat between her teeth and the bag containing her coffee and scone between her knees, not the soundest of ideas mind, she rummaged inside her handbag. Of course, the key could not be found being buried in the deep recesses of the purse. Needing a little extra stability, Claire leaned against the doorway. The door swung open making her lose balance and stumble into the room. Her mouth opened, squawking in surprise causing the coat to drop to the floor. Flailing hands pinwheeled around trying to maintain equilibrium rather than land ignominiously on her arse. She managed to keep her footing but lost the grip on her purse and watched as the contents tumbled out spilling haphazardly around the room. By some miracle, the sack with the coffee and scone remained intact. Not a drop of the rejuvenating liquid spilled. Which, of course, was the most important thing.

Surveying the mess she had inadvertently created, Claire concluded it was going to be one of those days. No doubt about it. And to make matters worse, she would have to operate without Fraser. Not to have his strong capable hands there moving in concert with hers, well the thought just soured her stomach. Of course, Pound would be there to help, but he was still in training even if he was Chief Fellow and she would still have to monitor him.

Mumbling words that a lady should not use, Claire picked up her coat and tossed it on a chair. On her hands and knees, she crawled around picking up the scattered bits and bobs shoving them back in the purse.

Standing, she walked toward her desk and saw it. In the middle of the desk stood a small beautifully cut crystal vase filled with forget-me-nots, white heather, and baby’s breath. A handwritten card placed in front of the flowers was written in a distinctive script declaring, Tha gaol agam ort, J. Claire could not read Gàidhlig but she instinctively knew what it meant. Her eyes misted over as she touched the delicate blooms.

How do you do it, Jamie Fraser? You take a terrible day and turn it into something magical.

Claire put on her lab coat, grabbed the bag with her coffee and scone, and walked out closing the door behind her. She strolled toward her nemesis, the lift, smiling and humming happily.

****************

“Aye, that’s right. See how Dr. Beauchamp keeps her field clear. It gives ye an unobstructed view and prevents postoperative infection.” Jamie turned to look at his students and they all dutifully nodded in appreciation.

“Watch how Dr. Beauchamp creates the anastomosis. Then she’ll tie it off. See how she makes her knots! ‘Tis a thing of beauty, is it no’? Perfect technique!” Jamie praised. Peering at his beloved, he saw her eyes crinkle with pleasure and her cheeks blazed red above her mask.

He came alive while he watched her work. As a surgeon, she was smart, talented, and highly sought after. Not only because of her skill but because she deeply cared about her patients. Some colleagues thought her “too involved” or believed her gender would make her“too soft” to become a competent cardiothoracic surgeon. Other critics thought her involvement with her patients would undermine her professionalism.

They had made love. Legs twined together; her head rested on his shoulder while his arm curled around her protectively. Jamie turned on to his side just enough to allow him to see her nakedness gilded by the moonlight. She curled into him clinging to him like a limpet anchored to a rock. Her muscles tense where normally she lay in his arms boneless after their intimacy. Finding a particularly tight knot he massaged it and felt it go slack.

“Is something wrong, my own? Did I no’ please you?” he asked anxiously.

“No, you were wonderful, really, Jamie. It’s just me. I started thinking. I don’t know why. But it’s nothing at all truly. I’m fine, just fine.”

“Sassenach, I ken well enough what ‘I’m fine means. Why dinna ye tell me what’s upsetting ye.” Jamie pulled her closer, tucking Claire’s head under his chin.

“We need to go back soon,” she said in a voice so low as to be almost inaudible. “And I’m so happy here with you,” she looked up into those startling blue eyes. “Then I started thinking about what it took for me to get this far in my career. My residency. My Fellowship. And suddenly I wondered if it was all worth it. I wondered if they were right in the end.”

“Who was right, Sassenach?”

Heaving a heavy sigh, Claire shared her trials as a cardiothoracic fellow. The competition for the position had been fierce. Only the top five candidates were called back to interview for the one open position. Even though she was highly ranked among the candidates for the fellowship, her prospective mentors suggested that perhaps she would be more suited to pediatrics, dermatology, or aesthetics as one of those specialties might suit her female sensibilities better. They had suggested cardiothoracic surgery might be too rigorous for a woman. The hours too demanding for a married woman. What would her husband say? Wouldn’t she like to have a family someday?

“The only qualification I didn’t have was I didn’t have a prick,” she said with some bitterness. She never expected an easy time. A distinct amount of sexism existed in medicine and women were not welcomed with open arms. She worked the worst schedule and given the most complex cases. Evaluations were harsh and judgmental. All done in the hopes that she would quit. Instead, it just made her work harder. And she turned a blind eye and a deaf ear to the mockery heaped on her. Claire succeeded where many others failed. She became their first female Chief Fellow; won several prestigious awards for her research. More importantly to Claire, her patients thrived.

“I am beginning to think they were right about some things. There is so much more to life. Much, much more,” she said drowsily. “And I want to have it. All.” Yawning, her eyes fluttered closed, and fell into a contented sleep.

“Aye, mo nighean donn, ye will. I’ll see tae it,” and leaned over kissing her brow.

Truly Claire is a woman of rare spirit, he thought. A woman who overcame many challenges and obstacles from an early age and was better for it. After all, she survived a plane crash that claimed the lives of her parents, lived like a vagabond with her archeologist uncle, and prevailed over a nightmare marriage. Many people would have been crushed under such hardships. But not his Sassenach; she endured. She managed to overcome them and emerge victoriously. A woman of rare spirit indeed. And one who deserved to be loved and loved well.

Jamie’s narrative kept pace with Claire’s every movement. Occasionally, he fired off questions at various intervals to his followers which they answered to his satisfaction. They remained throughout the entire procedure until skin closure finished and the patient made ready for transfer to the CSICU.

“Dr. Pound will accompany the patient to their room and start to write the postoperative orders. Please go with him. I will meet you over there.”

“Dr. Beauchamp, a word if ye please about yer next case,” called Jamie.

“Of course, Dr. Fraser. I would be delighted.”

The doctors exited the operating room on the pretext of being nothing more than two colleagues engaged in a discussion about a patient scheduled for surgery that afternoon. They approached an out-of-the-way corridor between the OR and the CSICU stealing down the passageway like two thieves in the night. Jamie’s head spun around looking for anyone who might have observed them. Deciding that they had not been seen, he seized her hand and pulled her into a little-used utility room. He locked the door behind them and drew her close, kissing her thoroughly.

“I missed ye.”

Claire cuddled into him resting her head on his chest. “I missed you too.”

Lifting her arms, she wrapped them around his neck. “Come here,” she whispered as she tugged his head down toward her.

Claire kissed him once, then twice.

“No’ that I’m complaining but what’s that for?”

“One was for the coffee, the other was for the scone. This one,” her voice turned provocative, “is for the flowers.” Her mouth latched onto his giving him a proper thank you kiss. The kiss, a searing flame, igniting them like a match to dry kindling. It left them both breathless and wanting for more.

She pressed firmly against him. He could feel her nipples rigid and taut through the thin scrub top. He knew she felt him; his hardness pressed against her body. If only I were home with her I’d carry her off to bed. This thought, naturally, made things much worse for him.

“How did you manage it?” she asked, her voice a sultry husky tone.

“Ewan gets the credit.”

“Be sure to thank him for me.” Claire crushed her body closer to his taking in his warmth. She buried he nose against him absorbing his smell. His scent was masculine, with the tang of antiseptic and just a dash of laundry starch hovering around him. Some things completely stirred her soul.

Clearing his throat, Jamie asked in a shaky voice, “Will ye, ah, will ye… Christ Claire, I canna think with ye so close tae me. Will ye take yer lunch with me?”

“Yes,” she said breathily.

“Why don’t ye go dictate yer op notes while on check on Pound? I’ll meet ye in about thirty minutes.”

“That’s a fine idea,” she leaned forward giving him a quick kiss. “Don’t be late.”

Jamie opened the door enough to peek out and found the corridor remained empty.

“Ye go first, I’ll follow after ye shortly.”

Claire slipped through the door while Jamie watched as she left. He noticed a little extra sway to her hips as she walked away. Damn little vixen. She did it on purpose. Sighing, he closed the door and leaned his head against it. He would have a wait a minute or two until his “problem” disappeared. It was becoming truly uncomfortable as he sought to adjust himself. “She’ll be the death of me yet.”

***********************

Walking into the CSICU after completing a successful surgery always filled Jamie with a certain satisfaction. He felt overjoyed that he and Claire helped patients return to their life, their work, their family, and without pain. He would tell patients, when he first met them, that this surgery was “enabling”. It would enable them to return to the life they wanted and not become a bystander.

With that thought in mind and a large grin on his face, Jamie swiped his badge across the electronic keypad granting him entrance into the Unit. The sounds of controlled chaos greeted him, voices raised, ventilators whooshing delivering needed oxygen, the soft beeping of heart monitors keeping time with healing hearts, IV pumps clicking as they delivered medication critical to the patient’s recovery.

He walked briskly toward the nurses’ station with gladness in his heart for he was back where he belonged.

“Fiona, ‘tis good tae see ye. How have ye been?” he inquired of the Unit’s charge nurse.

With the sound of his voice all conversation, all activity ceased, and every eye fastened onto him. The silence in the room would have been deafening if not for the continued mechanical sounds. Jamie became keenly aware of the absence of sound and the staff rooted in position. And just as quickly as it started it ended with activity resuming at its normal pace.

Fiona MacGowen kept her eyes glued to her computer screen, deliberately not making direct eye contact with the doctor. “Oh just braw, Dr. Fraser, just braw. Dr. Beauchamp’s patient is in Room 10 with Dr. Pound, Elspeth, and Iona getting him settled,” she said with her lips slightly turning up in a smile. “They’ll be waiting on ye.”

“Thank ye, Fiona. I’ll go and see how they are getting along.”

Jamie walked away, stopped, and turned back to look at Fiona once more. He thought her behavior a bit strange. Generally, one would say Fiona was a gregarious person with the reputation of being a chatterbox. Today, however, she acted more like a nun under a vow of silence. But to be honest, as he gazed around the Unit once more, everyone’s behavior seemed strange. And he had yet figured out what to make of it.

As Jamie approached the room the sounds of busyness gave the impression of a beehive humming with activity. As he stepped into the entryway, activity ceased. Again, all that remained was the soft mechanical sounds made by the life-sustaining equipment.

Elspeth stood quite still and uttered a little gasp. Meanwhile, Iona took a step back bumping into the ventilator; her eyes round with surprise. Dr. Pound cleared his throat glaring at the two nurses. They resumed their usual pleasant expressions with lips curling up into crooked smiles.

Jamie looked at the three of them thinking his team had gone daft.

“‘Tis good to have ye back Dr. Fraser,” declared the Fellow. “The ladies and I were just finishing getting Mr. MacNichol set up.”

Pound grabbed one of the portable workstations and began reviewing the patient’s current vitals as well as the orders he had written with the surgeon. They discussed the ventilator’s and pacemaker’s current settings, and when to call Dr. Beauchamp with any changes to her patient.

“Well-done, well-done. Mr. MacNichol is in very capable hands,” he smiled at his team. “I am off to lunch. Ye ken how to reach Dr. Beauchamp or me.”

Jamie walked out of the room and on impulse turned back to see the three heads buried in whispered conversation. He shook his head and left thinking about having lunch with Claire wanting to discuss the staff’s strange behavior with her.

Preoccupied with his thoughts, Jamie walked smack into his cousin Rupert almost knocking him down. Extending his arm quickly he caught his cousin by the shoulder steadying him.

“Sorry about that Rup. Doing a bit of wool-gathering I suppose.”

“Oy must be something awfully important to have ye so distracted.”

“I promised Claire I would have lunch with her and I dinna want tae be late.”

“Tae tell ye the truth, I am on my way tae find Geillis. We’re supposed to have a bite together too. Suppose ye two join us, aye?” He grinned broadly, “Twill be interesting to see if the plan

succeeded.”

“Sounds like a good idea cuz,” Jamie clapped an arm around Rupert’s shoulder as they strode off in search of the lasses.

************************************

Seated at one of the dictation corrals, Claire began her op notes. Her cardiac anesthesiologist, Geillis Duncan took the hutch next to her.

Dr. Duncan was a beautiful woman, with a trim figure, flaming red hair, and eyes as green as spring grass.

“Claire, ‘tis good tae have ye back. I’m sorry I dinna have much of a chance tae speak with ye this morning before the case. Did ye enjoy the conference?” Dr. Duncan gave Claire a sly side-long look.

“Wouldn’t you know it, Boston had a blizzard and the speakers weren’t able to make it.”

“No. What a shame. Ye flew all that way for nothing,” she sympathized.

“Too bad, right? Dr. Fraser and I were looking forward to hearing about those peripherally inserted heart valves.”

“Aye, but ye had the fox cub with ye. Perhaps it wasna so bad after all,” she leaned over jabbing Claire in the side. “Did ye maybe get tae share a room and have a go at him between the sheets, um?” She gave Claire a wicked smile. “I ken if I was snowed in with him, I would.

“Geillis!” Claire swore. She blushed from her hair roots to her toes.

Geillis gave her a sly smug smile. “After all, Georges X is an exclusive luxury hotel. Verra private, and verra, verra discrete. Or so I’ve heard,” she said shrugging her shoulders. “They have those flowers, all over the place. What are they? Orchids? she asked while tapping her nail against her white teeth feigning an attempt at recalling. I understand the lobby is decorated with a fortune in artwork. The rooms are quite grand, are they no’, with a fireplace, champagne, chocolate-dipped strawberries, fine whiskey. And I hear the bed is big enough to sleep an entire family. How could ye no’ entice him into yer bed, is what I want tae know?”

Claire glared at her friend, “What I want to know is how you know I stayed at Georges X. I know I never told you.”

Geillis chuckled nervously, “Why of course ye did. How else would I ken that?” Geillis became uncomfortable under Claire’s scrutiny.

“Spill it, Duncan. You know more than you’re telling.”

Geillis affected a look of innocence, “I swear tae ye Claire, I dinna ken anything.” She nervously scanned the area looking for any means of escape from further questioning. Her eyes latched on to Dr. Rupert MacKenzie ambling directly toward her, along with Jamie. “I need tae go. I promised tae meet Rupert for lunch. See ye later, Claire.”

Reaching out, Claire grasped Geillis by the forearm, “That’s a load of rubbish and you know it. I suspected there was something dodgy about that trip right from the beginning. I need answers and you have them, Duncan. You’re coming with me.”

************************************

The two male surgeons walked amicably through the corridor talking and laughing as Rupert entertained Jamie with tales of hospital gossip. As they approached the physician workstation, they noticed a loud commotion that seemed to be attracting a crowd. Jamie wondered what caused the kerfuffle this time. Most such squabbles centered around obtaining a certain OR room or available time for surgery. This behavior bordered on the ridiculous in his opinion.

As the men came closer to the center of the fray, they saw two female doctors engaged in a struggle. One of them had wild brown curls bouncing around her head. Claire? The second doctor had hair the color of flame. That head of hair belonged to the fiery Geillis Duncan. He quickened his pace needing to reach Claire.

“Claire! Claire,” he called, “What’s amiss?”

“‘Claire’ he calls her now. No’ Dr. Beauchamp,” Geillis snorted.

Claire’s posture had all the hallmarks of frustration and anger as she tried to drag her colleague toward the doctor’s lounge.

Claire’s eyes locked on Jamie, “It seems that Dr. Duncan knows a great deal about our trip. Particularly where we stayed and I want to know how.”

Rupert took Geillis firmly by the elbow and leaned over to hotly whisper in her ear, “Wha’ have ye done woman!?”

Cold green eyes glared fixedly up at him disliking his insinuation. “I may have spilled a bit of tea is all,” she said, wrenching her arm free of his grip.

“Sounds more like ye spilled the whole damn pot,” he growled at her. “Ye ken they were never supposed to find out, at least no’ this way. We were supposed to tell them gentle like. Now what?”

Dr. Duncan gave her shoulders the tiniest of shrugs. “Dinna fash. We’ll think of something,” and walked toward the lounge.

He squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, “Aye, that’s what I’m afraid of.”

Rupert held the lounge door open for his co-conspirator trying to usher her quietly into the room. Geillis, however, turned to observe Jamie and Claire huddled deep in discussion.

“Are ye both going to stand there all day blethering, or are ye coming? I’m hungry and I want my lunch.” she snapped.

The crowd lingered about waiting for the fuse to be lit and the fireworks to begin. Dr. Duncan had a very volatile reputation easily flying into pieces like an unstable explosive device. Whereas, Dr. Beauchamp was a genial person, kind and caring. But, the one thing she was not was a meek individual. When pushed beyond her tolerance limits, she could be as ruthless as a she-wolf defending her pups.

Jamie placed his hand firmly on the small of Claire’s back giving her a little nudge forward. The crowd began to murmur heads close in a whispered discussion, Some rudely pointed a finger at his hand on her back, while others outright stared. Jamie flushed. He should have known such an intimate placement of his hand would draw attention. They saw he claimed her. Not knowing how Claire would feel about this public display, he thought he needed to break up this crowd before someone accidentally said something.

“Show’s over everyone. Just a private meeting among friends. Nothing tae see here. I’m sure ye all have some work tae do. Patients are waiting for ye. Go on with ye.” Jamie said dismissing the loitering group.

Following behind Claire, Jamie entered the room and shut the door.

Claire wanted to get to the bottom of things quickly and stormed up to her colleague in a blazing fury. “Alright Duncan, spill what you know.”

“I already told ye. I dinna ken anything about ye trip. As I said either you or Jamie must have mentioned where ye were staying. Beyond that, I dinna ken anything.”

Jamie looked at Claire and shook his head signifying that he had never mentioned the hotel to anyone.

“Um-hm. Since when does this institution send a chauffeured car to pick up two staff surgeons? For the Chief certainly but not for ordinary staff personnel. And we’re supposed to believe that the hospital made five-star accommodations with all expenses paid for us? Hmm? I think not. Did I not say so, Jamie?”

“Aye, ye did. Several times.”

“Claire began to pace while considering the other strange occurrences surrounding their trip.

“And what about my clothes? I most certainly did not pack away that nightgown. It was a mere scrap of silk and lace. And that lingerie! Those panties and bras were not something I would have packed for a conference trip.”

“I’ll bet he enjoyed it,” Geillis muttered under her breath a sly grin curling up on her lips lighting up her face.

Jamie leaned forward, his eyes narrowing, staring intensely at the female doctor, “I am inclined tae agree with Dr. Beauchamp that the circumstances surrounding our trip tae Boston were, tae say the least, most unusual. I also had clothes in my suitcase that I ken I dinna pack and I’m wondering how they got there. Can ye shed any light on this mystery?”

As Jamie questioned Geillis, an acrid odor caught Claire’s attention. Being a very astute doctor, she was used to the various malodors emitted by humans and knew what they meant. She raised her nose into the air and sniffed delicately. The pungent smell seemed to be coming from the direction of Rupert. A light sheen of sweat glossed over his forehead and there was a distinctive musky odor about him. Fear. Anxiety. Her intense scrutiny seemed to worsen whatever internal conflict plaguing him. Unable to withstand the intensity of her stare, Rupert turned away not wanting to meet her eyes.

Claire jabbed Jamie in his side with her elbow gaining his attention.

“I think Rupert has something to add to this conversation.”

Jamie walked over to his cousin and stared at him intently. Rupert took a few steps back, feeling the unconscious need to put some distance between them.

“Aye, I think yer right. Rupert, ye look like ye have something ye’d like tae get off yer chest. Out with it man.”

Deciding that the best defense is a good offense, Rupert widened his stance and crossed his arms over his chest.

“I dinna ken what yer talking about Jamie lad. As the lady said, I dinna ken anything about yer trip either. And dinna ask if I ken anything about how yer jeans, duck boots, and down jacket got into yer suitcase,” he replied, a self-satisfied look plastered across his face.

“Ye great dunderheid! Do ye ken what ye said?! Ye just gave it away,” Geillis shouted giving him a slap upside his head. “And ye were worried about what I said.”

“Wha’ are ye talking ab…” He had that startled look that one has when they realize they stuck their foot in their mouth. “Oh! Oh, shite.”

“Ye just admitted that ye changed Jamie’s clothes in his suitcase.”

“Dinna blame me for everything. You changed Claire’s clothes,” Rupert countered.

The two combatants escalated the argument going at each other nose to nose, eyeball to eyeball, tooth, fang, and claw.

“And whose ideas was this? Mine. Who made the hotel arrangements and spoke tae Joe Silverberg in Texas to get him on board with the plan should one of them call to discuss the meeting?” Geillis boasted as she swung her hair over her shoulder. A dreamy look took over her as she recalled the conversation with Dr. Silverberg. “I invited him to come to Scotland, ye ken. Told him I would show him the sights and a good time. Said he may take me up on that too.”

“Mmphm, so ye did,” Rupert grumbled with annoyance. He did not like the suggestion of Geillis showing the American surgeon a good time. “Ye forget I made the plane arrangements and got Kenny to print up the fake conference brochure. And who enlisted their secretary’s help to slip the vacation request under the Chief’s nose and have him sign it? Cost me a night out as payment for that,” Rupert griped.

The two doctors continued in their game of one-up-manship, oblivious to Jamie and Claire standing in the room.

Unable to take the bickering anymore, Jamie bellowed, “Haud yer weesht!!!”

Geillis and Rupert looked up in bewilderment having forgotten where they were and that Jamie and Claire stood listening.

“Do ye two realize that what ye did invaded our privacy? That ye had no right to interfere in our lives?” Jamie growled.

“So, that’s it then? The whole thing was a setup, some sort of game? None of this was real? ” Claire said as she looked at Jamie.

“I beg tae differ, hen,” Gellis walked over her expression softening and gently took hold of Claire’s hand, “it’s as real as it can get. We all saw the lovesick eyes, the secret peeks ye two gave each other, and the way ye fuss over each other. If two people were meant to be together it’s ye two. We just nudged things along is all, ” said Geillis.

“Aye, yer right,” Rupert chimed in. “‘Tis the truth that NO one could take watching ye two anymore. The whole hospital wanted tae see ye together.” Rupert smiled at Claire. He quickly turned his vexation on his cousin. “And if Fraser here was no’ going tae be a man about it and make the first move, well by God someone had tae,” he snarled at Jamie. “What are ye then, cuz, a man or a moose?”

Jamie ran his hand through his hair and rolled his shoulders as if trying to loosen his shirt that had suddenly become too tight. A shy crooked smile flashed over his face; his lip curling up on one side.

“Aye, yer right. I, ah, I… Well, tae tell the truth, I am a bit of a coward. Ye ken, I dinna think um, I dinna know if Claire felt the same about me.” Jamie turned and looked deeply in Claire’s eyes, “I was afraid tae lose ye. If being yer friend would be the best of it, then that would have been enough.”

“I was afraid of losing you too, Jamie. I’ve had feelings for you right from the start. Only now do I dare to admit them,” Claire turned toward Rupert and Geillis giving them a look of gratitude. Moving closer, placing her hands on his chest. “I love you and I always will.” Her arms went up around his neck, standing on tiptoe, she leaned in, and kissed him soundly.

The kiss finally ended, each blushing from making a display of themselves.

Geillis stood there making gagging noises as she watched their affection. Rupert looked at Geillis with a smirk on his face.

“What’s the matter, lass, jealous?” Rupert said with a grin on his face.

“Certainly not,” Geillis waved off that idea with a flip of her hand and turned away.

“Well then, ye won't be minding this. I've wanted tae do this for a long time.” Rupert turned her around, took her in his arms, and kissed her.

“And I dinna want tae hear about ye showing any other men a good time, either.” He gave her a look that told her he would not brook no for an answer.

Geillis, looking dazed readily agreed.

Jamie coughed loudly, reminding the other couple they were not alone.

Wrapping his arm around Claire and pulling her into his side, Jamie smiled at their friends, “We want to thank ye, both, for bringing us together. We are truly grateful.”

Claire nodded in agreement, forgetting about her anger with the unorthodox methods they used to bring her the love of her life.

“Since we are all telling the truth,” Rupert reluctantly admitted, “there’s a wee bit more to it.” “We were not the only ones involved in this. When other staff members heard what we about they wanted tae be part of it. And so...”

“And so everyone began to contribute money tae help pay for the trip. So that’s how ye had such fine accommodations and such.” Geillis huffed, “We told ye that people could no longer stand tae look at ye. They wanted ye two as a couple, no’ apart. Now can we stop havering about and get some lunch? My wame is empty. Besides, everyone is waiting in the canteen tae see ye both.”

“Oh, God,” Claire groaned as she grew red and buried her face in Jamie’s chest.

Jamie chuckled and rubbed her back in long soothing strokes.

“Are ye ready then, Sassenach? Let’s go give these good people their money’s worth,” he grinned.

“Yes. We should thank them all, don’t you think?” Claire replied, running her fingers through her hair trying to tame her wayward curls.

“Ye look fine, lass,” he bent to kiss her gently on the cheek and took hold of her hand.

Rupert and Geillis led the way, laughing and talking. Claire and Jamie walked behind them holding hands. Nerves were getting the best of her and her hands became sweaty. She surreptitiously wiped her free hand on the scrub pant leg.

“Dinna fash. Ye’ve faced worse and ye’ll no’ be doing this alone. We’ll face them as one.”

One.

ONE, he said. But. What did that exactly mean?

“What do you mean by that? Being one?” She held her breath waiting for an answer.

Jamie frowned, crease lines set upon his forehead.

“It’s like I’ve kent ye my whole life, even before that, if that’s possible. I mean yer part of me. I ken that sounds crazy, but I…”

“I know what you mean, Jamie. I feel the same way too. It’s hard to explain, but it’s there.”

“Aye, lass, it’s most definitely there.”

Approaching the canteen seemed a surreal experience. Normally, one would call the dining hall a lively place, with the sounds of laughter, chatter, mixed with the scrape of dinnerware against plates. Today seemed different. A thrum of excitement and perhaps expectation filled the air as if waiting for something to happen. As Jamie and Claire approached the door a steady vibration emanated from its core.

Geillis waved them back signaling she and Rupert would enter first. Rupert lifted his hand spreading his fingers indicating they should wait five minutes before entering. Jamie nodded and Rupert and Geillis entered the dining room.

Jamie and Claire waited in companionable silence. Who would think that five minutes could feel like an eternity? But it did.

Jamie looked at his watch; it was time.

“Are ye ready, Sassenach?”

“Je suis prest,” she acknowledged.

Their fingers reached out seeking their mate bonded the two hearts and souls into one. Turning they gave each other a nod and walked through the door only to meet with absolute silence.

All eyes turned upon them and it became unnerving. Claire inched closer to Jamie, if that was even possible, drawing on his strength.

Then the cheers began along with the whistles and applause. Someone from the back of the room called out, “It’s about time, Fraser.”

“Och why don’t ye just give us a bit of peace, aye?” came his laughing response.

They were rushed by a mob of well-wishers. Men clapped Jamie on the back wishing him well. Others made jokes, at his expense, about his manliness for taking so long.

The women embraced Claire telling her how happy they were for her. Some gave her sly looks while others made off-color jokes causing her to blush.

Eventually, people began to amble back to their tables and lunch, and the couple discovered themselves alone. Finding a table in an out-of-the-way corner, they sat to eat.

“I guess we are out as a couple officially. It’s no’ how I would have wished it tae become common knowledge, but…” Jamie shrugged. “They are good people and they meant well.”

Claire nodded in agreement as she moved her salad around on the plate not eating.

“It’s a strange feeling. Knowing that someone orchestrated this relationship. I know how this will sound, but I feel like this happened to me, to us before.”

Claire looked up at Jamie, eyes pleading for understanding.

“Forget what I said, it’s silly.” She stabbed a particularly tender piece of lettuce and ate it.

“Nay Sassenach, it’s no’ silly at all. I feel it too. It’s as if I am drawn to ye as if I kent ye from another lifetime. Like we were meant to be together, bonded if ye like.”

“That’s it, exactly.” Claire looked at him with a sense of relief. Looking up, she noticed the clock on the wall, reading 12:55 PM.

“Damn, we have to go. We’ll barely make it in time for Dr. de Gascogne’s appointment for your hand.”

Jamie muttered something in Gàidhlig which Claire really didn’t want a translation of.

“I dinna ken why everyone is making such a fuss over my hand. It doesna hurt and it will heal in a few more weeks.”

Claire blew out a breath of exasperation, “You know very well why Dr. Fraser. Your one of the best cardiac surgeons in all of Scotland. Well, next to me you are,” she said teasingly. Besides, the hospital needs you, your patients need you but most of all I need you. So that’s why.”

“I ken, but I dinna like being fussed over.”

“Yes, I know; you’re a doctor and doctors make terrible patients. You think you’re supposed to do the healing and don’t like when you need help,” Claire said with a raised eyebrow. “Now, let’s get your hand attended to, shall we?”

They hurried through the corridors, making it to the appointment with seconds to spare. Jamie was whisked off for X-Rays then he and Claire were escorted to an exam room. He sat on the examination bed while Claire took the chair next to him awaiting Dr. de Gascogne’s appearance.

Jamie studiously inspected an anatomical chart of the hand and wrist hanging on the wall in the room.

“Ye said ye need me,” he said almost inaudibly. “Do ye mean as yer surgical partner or as something more?

Claire noticed him drumming his fingers on his thigh anxiously.

“I need you, Jamie, in every sense of the word. As my partner, my friend, my lover, my everything. I. Need. You.” Claire stood and walked over to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck pressing her forehead to his.

“Aye, weel I wanted to make sure, is all. Yer the prettiest lass in the hospital. Any man would want tae be with ye,” and gave her a shy smile.

“Jamie Fraser, you say the most…” There was a knock on the door, the knob turned and Dr. de Gascogne entered the room finding the lovers locked in an embrace.

She looked at the two, raised an eyebrow at Jamie’s hands on Claire’s hips, “Un jour, quelqu'un entrera dans votre vie et vous fera comprendre pourquoi cela n'a jamais fonctionné avec quelqu'un d'autre, mes chers. Et il semble que vous ayez. I believe congratulations are in order. My secretary tells me you have announced that you are a couple. You two made quite a stir in the dining hall?”

Claire jumped away returning to her seat cheeks and nose bright red. While Jamie’s ears went pink.

“Well, um, ah, yes. Thank you. I believe that we made quite a spectacle of ourselves and continue to do so, it seems,” Claire replied mortified having been caught.

“Ah, mon chéri never be ashamed to show that you are in love. We are born of love and seek out love. Many have sacrificed greatly for love even died for it. It truly is a treasure to enjoy. No?” Dr. de Gascogne said with a smile. “Now to business.”

Dr. de Gascogne opened the electronic medical record and began her inquiry. Jamie explained how he injured his hand - twice - causing Dr. de Gascogne to raise her eyebrows in total disbelief.

She reviewed the X-Rays; then removed the splints. She moved and wiggled the fingers finding them healing well and moving to her satisfaction. The splints were replaced and Jamie was dismissed with a caution not to hit any more people or trees. She instructed him to see her again in one month for a further follow-up.

The two surgeons graciously thanked Dr. de Gascogne for her time and casually left the examination room. As soon as they could not be seen, they bolted toward the operating suites as quickly as they could eager to leave behind another awkward situation.

The remainder of the afternoon went on as planned. Claire completed her second surgical procedure without incident. Jamie’s students doggedly followed him from place to place. Finally, the day came to an end. The surgeons tiredly returned to their offices, checked in for urgent messages and for their schedule for the next day. Each too exhausted to do much of anything else, except want the comfort of a bed, chose to go home. It was a short walk to Claire’s flat from the hospital and Jamie escorted her home. He wrapped his arm around her waist and she leaned into him. They spoke of this and that sharing different events of their day. Arriving at Claire’s flat, they walked up the stairs toward the front door. Jamie stood one step lower than Claire allowing them to be of an equal height.

A wave of fatigue washed over her, but Claire did not want Jamie to leave despite her tiredness.

“Would you like to come up? I have some soup in the fridge. Mrs. Bug made it. She’s quite the cook. Won’t take more than a moment to heat up. Or maybe a glass of wine or a dram? To help unwind?” she said looking at him hopefully.

He unzipped both their jackets and pulled her into the depth of his wrapping the jacket around her. He wanted her close to him and to share his warmth with her.

“Mo chridhe, yer completely knackered and ye need yer rest. If I come up with ye, ye ken neither of us will get any sleep,” he said pressing himself against her his desire completely apparent. “It’s no’ that I dinna want tae, but it wouldna do tae have ye fall asleep tomorrow during yer procedures.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve worked with little sleep, just like you have, during residency and fellowship,” she pouted.

“Aye, but ye need to set an example for the students and fellows. And what about yer patients? They need Dr. Beauchamp at her best. They’re counting on ye.”

Claire luxuriated in the radiant heat of his body and the knowledge that he wanted her as much as she wanted him. But, she still did not want him to leave. For to be alone with Jamie was bliss but to be alone was, well, to be alone. She racked her fatigued brain for anything that would keep Jamie with her. She blurted out the first thing that came to mind, “I love you.”

“I ken ye do, mo nighean donn. I feel it every time ye touch me,” Jamie took her hand tenderly placing a kiss on her palm. Gently, he folded her fingers over to seal his kiss against her skin. “And when ye kiss me,” he brushed his lips over hers. “Most of all, when ye lie with me. I ken the truth of it in our lovemaking,” he pulled her even closer to him until no space existed between their bodies. “Woman, ye’re like a live wire. Yer body fairly pulses with yer love and it flows out from you into me. It’s no’ just lust between us. ‘Tis love that brought us together and binds our souls. ‘Tis a thing that I never knew I wanted or needed until I found ye,” his hand moved to cup her face.

“It’s the same for me. I never knew it could be like this. Especially, after Frank. I thought all relationships would end up like that one. I see how foolish I had been to keep myself closed. To close my heart from love. If not for this trip, this may have never happened. We may have never happened.”

“Mo leannan, I would have found ye somehow. Whether I found ye now or even if I had to wait two hundred years to find ye, I’d find ye. We are meant to be together. I ken it.” His forehead pressed to hers each inhaling the other’s breath.

It began to rain lightly; a mizzle he had once called it. Tiny droplets of water clung to his hair. In the light of the streetlamp, his hair looked like a ruby adorned with sparkling diamonds.

They stood locked in an embrace for several moments; neither truly wanting to part from the other.

“Sassenach,” he whispered into her ear, “go on up. Ye need yer rest. Yer poor wee eyes are closing and there are dark smudges around them. Go on then. I’ll see ye tomorrow.”

He kissed her on the forehead and she nodded her head in agreement. Claire walked up the last two steps and slid the key into the lock of the front door. She turned to watch Jamie as he disappeared into the night walking toward his home and it occurred to her that this was just the beginning of their life and of their story.

The End - Part I

Tha gaol agam ort: I love you. (As if you didn’t know already.)

Anastomosis: An anastomosis is a surgical connection between two structures. It usually means a connection that is created between tubular structures, such as blood vessels or loops of the intestine.

CSICU/Unit: Cardiac Surgical ICU.

Blatherer: Chatterbox.

Dunderheid: An idiot, a stupid person.

Haud yer weesht: Be quiet.

Moose: mouse

Un jour, quelqu'un entrera dans votre vie et vous fera comprendre pourquoi cela n'a jamais fonctionné avec quelqu'un d'autre, mes chers. Et il semble que vous ayez.: One day someone will walk into your life and make you see why it never worked out with anyone else, my dears. And it seems that you have. (Google translation. If it’s wrong I apologise.) The quote is attributed to anonymous.

Mo nighean donn: My brown-haired lass

Mo leannan: Darling

Mizzle: A light rain

I hope you enjoyed this chapter. This Jamie and Claire will return. When I don't know. I also have several other stories in various stages of completion sitting in my files. I would like to give them a little attention too. And I still need to get through all the other stuff going on in my life.

From the bottom of my heart, thank you for reading. 🧡🧡🧡🧡

#edinburgh to boston #chapter 21 #Secrets and truths #here goes nothing #ol fic #my writing #jamie and claire #I can't believe I finished it

73 notes · View notes

natrogersfics · 3 years ago

Text

PREVIEW - Game Plan: Chapter 3

Artwork by @faith2nyc Catch up on Chapter 2 Read on AO3

He can’t breathe. Well, maybe he’s being a touch dramatic. It’s not as if the tightness he’s feeling in his chest right now is akin to having a three-hundred-plus-pound defensive end pinning him to the ground, though Steve’s certainly experienced that enough times to know it’s pretty damn close. And just like when he’s sacked in the pocket, he’s uncomfortable – irritated, even. But the worst part is, he doesn’t actually think it has anything to do with the interviewer that’s been trying to cajole him into a cringeworthy sound bite for the last half hour.

The irony that he’s now sitting for an interview does not escape him. When the Avengers had first announced his signing, the reception was a mixed bag. There were some who cheered, delighting in the idea of him mounting a comeback and raving about what a coup the front office had pulled. Nevertheless, many were skeptical. Hardcore fanatics were, at best, lukewarm about the idea of a former NFC West quarterback jumping to the AFC East. Pundits on Sports Center dissected his ability to play pro ball again after a two-season hiatus. Then there were the ever-unescapable critics. He’s sure they had a lot to say (and likely still do), but if he hadn’t paid attention to them back then, he sure as hell isn’t going to do so now.

Fast forward two weeks, one front page cover, and a charity campaign kickoff later, and suddenly the tides have turned. Such was the number of requests Natasha had received from podcast hosts to talk show producers alike to book time with him that they had no other option but to schedule back-to-back interviews while he trains at the Avengers’ remote facility out in New Jersey. And that’s how he wound up in his current predicament – his patience running thin as he sits mic’d up on a plush leather seat in the Press Room in the middle of his third interview of the day.

“Let’s talk about your career.”

The suggestion comes from his left, where a wooden desk with a surfeit of props across the surface has been situated on the makeshift set. Behind it sits Johann Schmidt, the famously mercurial host of the streaming talk show HAIL HYDRA! and known to sports fans across the nation as the Red Skull – a moniker bestowed upon him for his impossibly sharp features and his penchant for dressing in the fiery color.

“7 seasons, 102 games played, 23,671 passing yards, 171 total touchdowns, 73.4% pass completion rate…”

As Schmidt rattles off a list of his career statistics, he steals a glance towards the front of the room, half expecting Natasha to interject that his pass completion rate is actually 74.3%, not 73.4. But she doesn’t, and he realizes that unlike the last few times she’s cut in when an interviewer misstates a fact about him or his career statistics, she isn’t doing so now because her attention is elsewhere. Or, more accurately, it’s being monopolized by the towering stranger she’s been talking to since the start of this interview whose words now have her tipping her head back in laughter.

The thought triggers a bitter taste in his mouth, and right then and there, it hits him. The inexplicable tension in his body, the irritation he feels – it’s nothing short of the green-eyed monster.

He’s always been competitive. He is an athlete, after all, and he’s almost certain that anyone would be hard pressed to find one that didn’t prioritize winning. But jealousy is just not an emotion he’s ever leaned into. It’s childish, nonsensical, and he’s seen the crazy things it’s driven other people to do. Not to mention the fact that right now, he has absolutely no right to feel it – especially when it comes to Natasha. With that in mind, he shifts in his seat in an effort to shake the feeling away, turning his attention back to Schmidt.

“The New York Avengers haven’t had a successful run in the playoffs in quite some time,” Schmidt states into the windscreen covered microphone before him. “That said, it’s still the most storied franchise in the league, which is why it’s understandable that fans may be dubious about whether or not you’re the right man to lead the team back to glory.” Schmidt pauses, his expression bordering on menacing as he leans forward in his seat. “So, tell us, Steve, why do you think you’re the player to do that?” Schmidt lifts a shoulder. “What makes you so... special?”

“We all know I’ve suffered a major injury and that I haven’t played professionally in two seasons. So, I get it,” he acknowledges. “I get why fans are skeptical to give me a chance.” He shakes his head. “You ask what makes me the man to lift this team back up… What makes me so special? The answer, Schmidt, is nothing.” He shrugs. “It’s true that I’m often associated with LA because that’s where my career began. But at the end of the day, I’m just a kid from Brooklyn-”

“Just what every fan base wants to hear, am I right?” Schmidt interrupts, practically reveling in delight as he smirks. “The savior they’ve been waiting for… and he turns out to be nothing but ordinary.”

“Perhaps you see it that way, but I disagree,” he says, prompting Schmidt to raise a brow. “Being a kid from Brooklyn means that I can’t” – he pauses, shaking his head – “I won’t back down from a challenge.” He sighs. “So, while I can’t guarantee fans a Lombardi at the end of the season, what I can guarantee is that every time I put on that uniform, I will leave my heart out on that field.”

Schmidt is stunned into silence, and it’s only when the room suddenly bursts in applause that he comprehends why the man’s glib expression has soured into a scowl. Turning away from the host, he allows his eyes to sweep across the room to see the entire crew – both from the Avengers and from HYDRA – clapping enthusiastically. As he spots Darcy and Wanda in the corner, both of whom offer him two thumbs up, pride begins to surge through him. But it’s only when he sees Natasha next to them, her lips quirking as she gives him a nod of approval, that he smiles – his earlier discomfort all but forgotten.

“You killed it!” Natasha exclaims as he walks towards her at the end of the interview, and he’s surprised when she leans in to wrap her arms around him.

“Think so?” he says, returning the embrace and letting his lips pull upwards into a smile.

“Know so,” Natasha says as she pulls away. “Oh, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.” Natasha moves to his side, and he looks up to see the man she was talking to earlier standing before them. He’s dressed in an impeccably tailored charcoal suit, his stature massive enough that he could easily be a tight end or even a center. “Steve,” Natasha begins, “this is Thor Odinson, CEO of Point Break, the country’s leading athletic wear brand and your new sponsor.” Her words cause the tension in his shoulders to dissipate. “Thor, this is Steve, our starting quarterback.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Johann Schmidt stunned into silence before,” Thor says, flashing his perfect teeth as he smiles and extends his hand out to him. “Seriously, good job.”

“Thank you,” he says, shaking Thor’s hand. “But that was all Natasha. She prepared me well.”

He beams in pride as he turns to Natasha, because if he’s learned anything in the last two weeks, it’s that her dedication to her job is unparalleled. Every day since this media campaign has started, she’s easily the most prepared person in the room – ready to fire off a Plan B, C, or D when necessary. While things haven’t always been smooth sailing, he’s certain that nothing has ever escalated into a mishap because of her quick thinking. If he’s had any success in turning the public’s opinion on him, it’s only because he’s been fortunate enough to have her as his guide every step of the way.

More impressive than Natasha’s work ethic though, is her capacity for kindness, and it’s something he’s witnessed time again throughout their relatively short time together. As his Publicist, she’s often the first line of defense when it comes to the media, and though he’s only been back in the public eye for a brief period of time, he’s seen how brash they can be when they press her for information. And yet, she’s never been anything but professional, even when the person before her does not warrant it. Add to that the way she watches over her team and how lovingly she speaks of her sister, and he’s not sure how anyone can do anything but admire her.

“This one,” Thor says, pointing a thumb at Natasha, “is a force to be reckoned with.”

“Truer words have never been spoken,” he says to her more than anyone else, and as she playfully rolls her eyes, he pretends not to notice the hand Thor places on her shoulder.

“When he can nail interviews like that, my job is basically a breeze,” Natasha says, turning to Thor. “Anyway, shall the three of us discuss the rollout strategy for the sponsorship?”

“Yes, let’s,” Thor says, gesturing towards the door. “Lead the way, Nat.”

He arches a brow as he follows them out of the Press Room. Nat?

Read all of chapter 3 here

#Romanogers #Game Plan #natrogers #Steve Rogers #Natasha Romanoff #One Night Stand AU #steverogersedit

44 notes · View notes

seiyasabi · 4 years ago

Text

Beta

(This is a Yandere Alpha N’Doul x Beta Female Reader! I hope you guys enjoy this :))

TW: !Noncon/Dubcon!, no stand au, sexual harassment (from the big man himself, Dio), mentions of disability(blindness)!, mentions of organised crime!, mentions of violence!, !knotting!, breeding kink!, you have no rights even as a Beta :((, !Alpha kink, !slight scent kink, !slight body horror at the end but nothing explicit!, etc..)

When you accepted the role as a caregiver, you assumed that the man you were going to watch after was normal. After all, the man was rumoured to have a trust fund, and you assumed that he was rich from old money.

How wrong you had been.

How would you have known that the man you’re helping is in one of the most feared mafia’s in the world?

You’d found this out by accident. He’d asked you to bring an expensive wine for him and a ‘friend,’ but when you walked in, you saw his ‘friend’ sprawled out on the floor, dead. That’s when he used his ‘Alpha Voice’ on you for the first time. He demanded you move into his estate, because he couldn’t risk you being a snitch.

The ultimatum was to move in, or die, and by God, you weren’t going to die.

“If you weren’t a Beta, I’d have stolen you away a long time ago,” Your hands shake slightly when you pour an expensive scotch into the blond Alpha’s cup. You’d always been sensitive to an Alpha’s scent or words, and this man’s smell is overwhelming.

“Thank you, Mister Brando, but I’m sure my boss wouldn’t like that,” You chuckle nervously, as you swiftly move away from his large form. Taking a small glance towards N’Doul, you see an impassive look on his well-sculpted face. He’s used to his boss’ crude words towards you, but the annoyed pheromone in his scent is very apparent.

“Of course he wouldn’t, you’re one of the few useful servants here,” He swishes the amber liquid around in his cup, the ice clinking against the glass making you flinch, “But, I have a proposition for you that I know you can’t refuse; you smell very… enchanting for a mere Beta. This is a known fact. The only differences between you and an Omega is that you’re level-headed and less annoying. That means that you’ll make a very good mate for one of my most trusted men,” By this time, you’d made your way to your boss, and were in the middle of pouring him a glass of a strong smelling bourbon. The blond Alpha’s words make your blood run cold, and you quickly stop pouring N’Doul his drink in fear of your shaking causing a spill. Dio’s golden eyes flash in amusement, “Why do you seem so surprised, Beta? You’ve been faithful to us for quite some time now, and I believe you deserve some comfort. If you marry him, you’ll live a lavish life. The only thing you must do for us, besides giving us unwavering loyalty, is bear him many children. The mafia needs a future generation, after all.”

You gasp in disbelief, your free hand covering your gawking mouth. He can’t be serious. You weren’t born into a mafia family, you weren’t rich, you aren’t good on the field, etc., why would he want you to marry one of his high ranking men?

“I, uhm, I’m flattered that you’d offer me such an amazing, uhm, opportunity, but I don’t think I can up and leave my boss. I’ve helped him for about two years, so it might not be very good for him-” N’Doul suddenly grabs your right wrist, scaring you half to death. You almost drop the bourbon bottle in your left hand, but luckily regain your hold on it.

“She’s right, Master Dio, I still need her assistance in my manor. She helps me write my paperwork, reads off important messages, and assists with many other equally as important tasks. It would be quite hard for me to find someone who is as trusted and reliable as she is,” He slowly releases his hold on you, gently squeezing your right hand’s fingers. You shift uncomfortably on your feet, Dio looks positively pleased with himself, while your boss looks in his general direction with an unamused expression.

“Are you both sure that you want to miss out on this opportunity? I didn’t even say the Alpha’s name yet,” The both of you vehemently nod, you because you don’t want to marry some rando to become a baby factory, and your boss because he can’t bear the thought of you being mated to someone else. “I see, what a shame. I was actually going to offer her to you, N’Doul, but I guess she can continue to be your servant if you want,” The dark haired Alpha’s scent turns sour, making you gulp in both fear and confusion.

“Master Dio, what are you implying?”

“You want to marry her, don't you? Your sweet Beta always takes care of you, she’s willing to do anything to make you comfortable,” Oh God, Dio thinks you’re in love with your boss, “And don’t think I haven’t noticed the change of your scent when she walks into the room, or how you treat her so kindly. The N’Doul I know wouldn’t have hesitated to kill someone if they found out his secret, yet you spared her without a second thought. It seems that the both of you have found your match,” He throws his drink back, finishing it with a single swig, “But, if you still don’t wish to marry, I understand-”

“Please don’t play with my feelings,” Your boss stands to his feet, his scent now overwhelmingly angry, “Of course I’d want to marry her, is that really a question you must ask?” Dio smirks at his uncharacteristic anger.

“Oh, is that so? Then I suppose I will allow it,” He stands to his feet as well, easily towering over the both of you, “Now that that’s settled-”

“Wait! I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but don’t I get a say in this?” N’Doul, who is closest to you, tries to reach out for you again, but you easily dodge his hand, “I’m sorry Master N’Doul, but I don’t want to marry you. I also don’t want any children, and I don’t want any direct involvement with the mafia. I’m fine helping you out around the house and doing my job, but I don’t want anything besides a professional relationship,” It’s quiet for a long moment, a look of hurt flashing over your boss’ face, along with an upset smell permeating the room, before Dio begins to laugh.

“Oh my, it’s so adorable that you think you have a choice. Did you forget that even though you’re not an Omega, the law still views you as lesser to an Alpha? For once, we’d be following the law in making you submit to your Alpha,” The blond rounds the left side of the table, heading straight towards you. In a panic, you try to move to your right to round the table and run for the door, but you run into your boss.

Instead of being thrown off kilter like usual, he stands firm. His arms wrap around your middle, forcing you up against him. You think that he’s surprisingly well built for a man who needs your help 24/7, and that’s when you realise that you’re just a cover. The police know that you work for him, and whenever they’ve questioned you, you’ve always said the same thing; he has no sense of balance, he needs your help to get around the house, etc.. But, looking at the situation at hand, it’s clear that he’s never needed you for anything besides his mafia paperwork.

“I think she’s figured it out N’Doul,” The scary Alpha is now before you, staring down at you with a shit-eating grin, “Though, that doesn’t matter. What matters now is that you listen to me well,” Oh no, “You’re going to marry him, whether you want to or not. You will give him as many pups as he wants, or else you’ll be punished. If you try to escape, you will be punished. Do you understand me?” He’s used his Alpha voice on you. Normally this wouldn’t phase a Beta, but you were no normal Beta.

Against your better judgement, you nod, saying a very forced, “Yes, Alpha,”

“Good. His rut will begin in a few days. When that happens, you will service him as an Omega would. I will give you some heat inducing pills, and you will take them the moment his rut begins,” You stare at the ground with a frown, and nod.

“Okay… but how will they work? I’m not an Omega-” N’Doul’s hold tightens around your ribs exponentially, making you wheeze.

“Don’t act too rash,” He scolds the dark haired Alpha, “That’s an excellent question, Beta,” You flinch at his words, and freeze in fear when he grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him, “There are many drugs on the market that can trigger a reaction from your kind. Many Alphas find it fun to break a Beta down into a gushing, cock or pussy hungry whore. You, my dear, are going to be my dear friends’ mate, which means you need to be ready for a long and hard week. If you aren’t you’ll surely die of exhaustion,” N’Doul growls at that, causing Dio to shush him softly, “So, to stop that, you’re going to go into heat as well. It’s as simple as that.”

His words are calming ones, trying to lull you into a false sense of security. But, you know better. You know that both men can kill you easily, you know that your boss could give you up, ending with you becoming a sex slave. So, to save your own skin, you give in.

“Okay. I understand.”

The next few days are a whirlwind of emotion. Because his cover has now been blown, N’Doul refuses your help with any task besides paperwork. Turns out, he’s very high functioning, and he is able to count his steps to-and-fro, and is also able to do things like cooking without your help.

Ever since that day with Dio, he’s been trying to make it up to you. He’ll make you your favourite food, dress you in pretty dresses, help you shower, etc.. It’s honestly suffocating, but whenever you try to distance yourself, one of his few servants will detain you, only to return you back to the patient Alpha.

The day before his scheduled rut, one of the female servants took it upon herself to wax your entire body. Unfortunately for you, she’s a very old fashioned Alpha, and she had no qualms in using her Alpha voice against you. So, she sat you down on the edge of a large jacuzzi like bath tub, and went to town. When your soon to be mate called for you, it’d taken all of your power to walk down the stairs without falling flat on your face. He’d known something was wrong, because your smell wasn’t as lovely as usual, and the way you walked sounded completely different than normal. You didn’t bother lying to him, and to say he was pissed was an understatement.

A low growl draws you from your thoughts, along with the heavy smell of arousal trailing from N’Doul’s quarters. Sighing in dread, you head towards your dresser, grabbing the pills Dio gave you from a small unused jewelry box. Chucking them into your mouth, you unscrew the cap of your water bottle and take a large swig, swallowing down the aphrodisiac you are forced to take.

Shuffling towards your door, you hear the male’s groaning grow loader. Is he outside your door? Grabbing the cool doorknob, you practically throw the door open, expecting to see him kneeling outside. When the hallway is exposed, there’s no one there. Sticking your head outside, you check to see if he was farther down the hall. Nope. It’s empty.

You see his room a few doors down, and realise he’s just that noisy.

Straightening your posture and taking a deep breath, you trudge towards his abode. Knocking lightly on the door, you call out to him, “A-are you okay in there?” All noises cease, leaving you in suspense. Putting your ear against the door, you try to listen in to see if he dropped dead or if he was walking towards the door. You hear nothing, and prepare to pull away, only for the door to open, making you fall forward. Two warm arms catch you with a quickness, before you’re dragged into the dark room, and tossed onto a very comfortable bed.

You bounce once you hit the mattress, only to be pinned down in an instant. He noses your throat, ghosting over your scent glands. His tongue laps at your neck greedily, trying to taste your skin on his tongue. N’Doul’s large, Rough hands grope at the fat of your hips, trailing up to your breasts. He seems to be trying to get a reaction out of you, but all you do is cringe.

The pills haven’t fully kicked in yet, so you’re very uncomfortable under the rough treatment the Alpha is giving you. Noticing this, he growls in annoyance, “Don’t act shy, Darling. I’ll make you feel good if you make me feel good,” Did he truly mistake your discomfort for timidity?

“I, uhm,” He silences you with a heated kiss, both of your spit mixing together, much to your disgust. His fingers pull and prod at your blouse covered nipples, twisting slightly to elicit a reaction. A gasp leaves your lips, as you try to remove his hands. The medicine was slowly, but surely starting to work, making your breasts more sensitive than usual.

He grips the material of your shirt with two fingers, a small snarl coming from his lips, “I want this off. If you want to keep it, you better strip fast,” You practically throw your shirt over your head, moving as fast as you can. Your best friend had given you his shirt years ago, and you’ve used it as a sleep shirt ever since.

A small smile decorates his harsh features, as he is finally able to feel your skin against his. He squeezes your breasts, loving the feeling of your fat between your fingers. You try not to look, hoping to zone out the entire session, but the rapid heat appearing in your tummy is making it very hard to do so.

“I can’t wait until these are filled with milk, your Alpha might have to have a taste for himself,” A gasp leaves your lips at his erotic words, especially when his lips connect with your right nipple. He suckles on it like a child, whilst toying with the hem of your panties. With one swift movement, he shucks them down your legs without separating from your chest.

A loud moan escapes your throat, as he starts to toy with your puffy pussy. The waxing from the night before makes you more sensitive than normal, eliciting all the right reactions. He removes himself from your chest, bringing your panties to his nose, breathing in your slick.

“Such a yummy and cute little Beta, no wonder everyone everyone confuses you for an Omega,” He licks the seat of your panties, practically cumming in his drawers at your taste, “Fuck, you even taste fertile. Does your little womb want my cum, Darling? Want me to pump a cute baby into you?” His words send another wave of heat to your core, causing your slit to gush out your arousal.

“Yes, yes please! Please fill me up!” He smirks at your neediness, and he shoves your legs apart. The smell of your arousal permeates the room, causing the large man to choke on his own spit.

“Oh my, your pussy smells so good,” N’Doul practically dives between your legs, sniffing at your dripping pussy. Your hands reach down and grip at his black locks, practically begging him to eat you out.

“Please lick my pussy! I was to take your knot,” He starts to kitten lick at your clit, causing tour hips to buck into his face, smearing your arousal over his chin and nose. He moans, loving the thought of everyone knowing that he belongs to you.

“Such a Good Girl, in no Time, we’ll have a cute pup running around. Then I’ll fuck another one into you, giving them a sibling to hang out with,” You keen at his words, especially when he inserts two fingers into you at once. He scissors them at a fast pace, sucking on your clit harshly. Your cunt gushes in your first orgasm, making your back arch and a scream leave your lips, “What a good Darling, loosen up so I can fuck you full.”

He adds two more into your cunt, your pussy sucking his fingers with an iron grip. His hips rut into the mattress below, as he brings you to a second release.

“I’m gonna stuff you full, keep you locked on my knot. My Darling Beta, my cute cumslut,” he withdraws his hand from your heat, making you whine. But, he’s quick to shut you up with another heated kiss. Pushing your knees back, he puts you into a mating press. With one hand he keeps you in that position, and the other pushes his drawers off of his hips, kicking them off onto the floor.

Lining his tip to your slick hole, he dips it in, testing the waters. When he feels your ring of muscle practically pulling you in, he can’t help but slam his entire length into you, causing you to scream out in both pleasure and pain. His tip rams into your cervix harshly, trying to access your deepest point.

He doesn’t give you time to adjust, and starts to roughly fuck into you. His heavy balls slap against your ass in a rhythmic fashion, whilst he forced your knees by your head.

“Fuck, your sloppy cunt is taking me so well. I love the way you gush around my cock,” You can’t say anything, too overwhelmed with pleasure. Your mouth falls open, eyes rolling back into your head. Pathetic moans rattle your chest, as he smashes himself as close as he can to you, “Don’t worry, Beta, your Alpha will fill you up nicely. I’ll make you round with my baby, I’ll give you pretty milky tits, and I’ll take care of you for the rest of your life!”

He picks up his pace, trying to draw out more noises and slick to help him force his way in. His knot is quickly forming at the base of his cock, and it pulls almost painfully at the opening of your slit.

“A-Alpha, I’m gonna, I’m gonna cum!” He smiles at your admission, starting to force his knot inside.

“Good Beta, cum around your Alpha’s knot,” N’Doul forces his entire weight onto you, bucking his hips even harsher than before.

His knot catches on your opening one more time, before breaching your drooling cunt. He ruts into you for a few moments longer, before his knot hardens fully, breaching the opening of your womb, locking himself inside of you.

The feeling of him knotting you causes you to squirt, your release just barely slipping past your stuffed opening, painting his abs with your cum. He forces his mouth onto yours, as his seed pumps into you in thick spurts. He fills you up so much, that you feel bloated, your tummy poking out a little bit more than normal. N’Doul Real esse your legs, letting you settle into a comfortable position, his warm hand lays on your stuffed womb.

“My beautiful mate, I’m so happy you accepted me. We’ll have the best pups, I’ll make sure none of you want for anything. Fuck, why’re you squeezing me so harshly?”

You whine in both pain and pleasure, laying your forearm across your eyes, “I think I need to go to the hospital. Betas aren't meant to take knots, and you’re currently deep in my womb,” He scrambles to pull himself out, only to yank on your womb harshly, making a small scream of pain escape your lips, and tears dot your eyes, “No! No! Not right now, oh god, that hurts so bad!”

His moment of post nut clarity, brings him to kiss your face with multiple tender kisses.

“It’s okay, Darling, we’ll patch you up soon. Maybe Dio will have a drug to make this less painful for you.”

You stare up at the ceiling with dread, the pills he gave you makes you feel good, yes, but the pain of no longer having freedom and a knotted cock in your womb is enough to make you sick.

Hopefully your kid will be cute. Because, if not, you don’t know what you’ll do.

#yandere n'doul #yandere n'doul x reader #n'doul x reader #yandere jjba #yandere jjba x reader #yandere jojo's bizarre adventure #yandere omegaverse #omegaverse #jjba omegaverse

289 notes · View notes