#and there is an appeal to the couple of times they pretend to be family on cases. like there's a lightheartedness there that's nice | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

youvebeenlivingfictional · 7 months

Text

Making Arrangements Part One

Masterlist | Part Two

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only. Any minors interacting will be blocked.

Length: 6.1K

Notes: It's a two-shot! Part two will have explicit content.

No beta, we die like Billy Kimber

Warnings: Arranged marriage; mentions of prostitution; canon-typical attitudes toward sex; slow burn; enemies to allies to lovers; Reader has a brother and an aunt; no physical descriptions of non-canon characters; Reader gets drunk

Summary: If you’d been involved with anyone, if there’d ever been a hint or a whisper of a beau recently, you might’ve been able to plead differently for your future.

But you knew as well as your family that this was your best move, and with no great love waiting in the wings, there was nothing to be done but to marry the man. You secured your interests, the interests of your family. You gained a powerful ally—but you also gained powerful enemies.

“D’you think you could bother to give them a smile?”

On the face of it, it seemed a fair question, but all things considered, it made you want to punch Thomas Michael Shelby squarely in the jaw. You didn’t, of course—that conduct would be unbecoming of a bride in front of her new family.

You’d been getting knowing looks from the women all night—pursed lips from Ada and Polly, and a wide smile from Esme. It was almost wolf-like, the way she watched you—welcome to the pack.

“I could,” You conceded, nodding, casting your gaze around the party. The revels had only just begun. It was early enough that nearly everyone was coherent, on their feet, but you knew that in just a couple of hours, the party would likely turn to shit. These people would be drunk, coked out of their minds, dancing, and flirting…Probably fucking. You had no doubt that you would be expected to do your wifely chore that evening.

Maybe that was why a permanent frown had been fixed on your lips from the time you’d put on your wedding dress, as you’d walked down the aisle, all the way through the fucking I Dos.

“You’re still frowning.”

You didn’t bother to hide your eye roll before you turned your head fully to look at him. He didn’t give you the same courtesy. He watched the revelers with the same bored speculation as you’d given them just moments ago.

“And this is what your fucking grin looks like?” You snipped. He raised his cigarette to his lips, drawing in a deep drag that sank his cheeks. He managed to cast you a knowing glance, his brow raising.

“It’s the most that you’ll get of me tonight.”

“And of me. Don’t ask me to stoop to something that you won’t bother with. I’m your wife now. At least pretend to respect me in front of them,” You insisted, nodding toward the others. It took him a moment, but Tommy nodded.

“And behind closed doors?” He asked.

“That’ll be none of their concern. And you’ll have to take it up with me later.”

“I intend to.”

You sat on the edge of the bed, and watched. All Tommy did was light up another damn cigarette. You weren’t sure if you married a man or a chimney.

You could hardly believe that you had married the man at all.

Your family had never been a big player in Birmingham, or Camden. You’d kept your head down, stayed out of the way, operated cleanly. When the Shelbys had come to you with a proposition, it hadn’t been for your minor operations in the UK—it had been for your connections in America. They were looking to expand, offered you a good deal, and a union between the two households.

When it had first been brought to your attention, you’d thought that it was a pretty good idea. But when it came down the line that Thomas Shelby had specified an interest in marrying you, well—the thought had become less and less appealing. If you’d cared less for your family, or known less about the mounting tensions that they were facing overseas, you would’ve laughed the idea off. If you’d been involved with anyone, if there’d ever been a hint or a whisper of a beau recently, you might’ve been able to plead differently for your future.

But you knew as well as your family that this was your best move, and with no great love waiting in the wings, there was nothing to be done but to marry the man.

You secured your interests, the interests of your family. You gained a powerful ally—but you also gained powerful enemies.

Tommy had spoken to you only once before your wedding day. The meeting had been brief, and he’d done all of the talking. He’d promised to protect you, sworn to never raise a hand against you.

“You know as well as I do,” He’d insisted, “That this is the best way forward for our families. And I know,” He’d leaned in a touch, “That you want what’s best for your people.” He’d reached into his pocket and drawn out a small velvet box, setting it on the table before he stood, straightening his waistcoat.

“You have until tomorrow night. I need an answer.”

You’d sent him your reply—a single slip of paper sent with your brother Lewis that simply read: Yes

“...It was a nice party,” You offered now, unable to stand the silence any longer.

“You didn’t seem to particularly enjoy it.”

“No one left with a bullet wound. In my family, we consider that a successful bash.”

Tommy’s lips quirked just a touch as he nodded.

“Our brothers seemed to get on,” You hedged, desperate to draw this out. You worried that once you stopped speaking, he may…Want to consummate the marriage. You weren’t sure how you felt about that. You’d heard rumors, whispers that Tommy was a good lover, but you weren’t sure that you were ready to find that out yourself.

“They did,” Tommy nodded again. “Lewis and John already seem thick as thieves.”

“Yes.”

The two of you fell into quiet again, and it was a harrowing few moments before Tommy pushed himself off of the dresser. Your hands dropped instinctively to the bed, grasping at the sheets—but Tommy turned and went for the door.

“G’night, then.”

Your brow furrowed as you glanced around. Goodnight? But—

“Where will you sleep?”

Tommy stopped in the open doorway, nodding behind himself. “I’ve a room down the hall.” He turned away, adding, “Shout if you need something.”

You hesitated a few moments longer before you sprung up, darting forward and shoving the door closed before locking it. You drew in a deep breath, closing your eyes and letting your forehead rest against the dark, cool wood grain.

He didn’t take.

You had gone into the room expecting shoving hands and a quick coupling, but Tommy kept his distance. You weren’t sure if you were more relieved or insulted. You turned away from the door, leaning back against it and peering around your dim new living quarters.

Relieved, you decided.

Insulted, you decided.

Tommy had the gall to lean in and peck your cheek when he’d come down to breakfast that morning.

It took everything in you not to shove him away.

Polly made no comment on how wane you looked the next morning, nor did Ada or Esme cast you knowing grins or teases. They all watched Tommy, and the little slip of a shadow that you’d met last night—a birch-pale, dark-haired woman named Lizzie.

You didn’t think that the news had made it back to your family—the fact that your husband had just spent his first night as a newly-married man with a prostitute-turned-secretary while you slept alone in an unfamiliar room wearing the lacy nightie that you’d bought specifically for your honeymoon.

Esme and Ada excused themselves as quickly as they could, but Polly lingered, and offered,

“He’s a prickly sort, and these things take time. Men have their needs and urges.”

“...Right,” You pronounced crisply as you stirred some sugar into your tea, “And I’m a novice in a nunnery.”

“You should’a seen the girls at the party last night,” Lewis groaned.

For all of your irritation during the last few days, you’d been happy, truly happy to see your family enjoying themselves. Carving out your space in the literary scene of London and running a few underground print shops wasn’t exactly a serene existence. You constantly had to move operations, vet workers, stop-up leaks in production cycles and deal with snitches. Your entire family was dedicated to the business, but your brother was the most determined of the lot. Lewis had become the man of the house at a young age, after your father had been hauled into prison for treason.

So to see him let loose a little—well, more than a little, truth be told—was a heartening sight.

“I don’t think I would’ve quite enjoyed them the way you did,” You raised a brow, smile widening as he ducked his head bashfully, “But I’m glad you had a good time.”

“And you?”

The pointed question came from just behind you. You didn’t dare turn to look at your Aunt Pearl. She knew you far too well. You could hide your feelings and concerns well enough from Lew—you had plenty of practice. But Pearl had been a motherly figure, a guiding hand in what would’ve been an otherwise rudderless life. She learned to read you like an open book when you were young, and you had been powerless to change the way that she understood you, even as the seasons of your life had passed.

You turned your head back toward her just a touch, biting the inside of your cheek as you waited for her to go on. It was a few moments of quiet before she urged: “Lewis, go get some air.”

You drew a deep breath in through your nose, fighting to steady yourself, and giving Lewis an encouraging smile and nod before he stood, pushing away from the kitchen table and heading outside. You saw him tipping his head back toward you, trying to catch on the line of questions that Pearl was about to level—as if neither of you knew any better to wait until he was fully out of earshot.

“Who’s Lizzie?” She finally asked. You weren’t sure how to answer at first. You scrubbed your hand over the back of your neck, making sure that you heard the door shutting behind Lewis.

“It’s just…Growing pains,” You finally offered, gaze set stalwartly on the table. “Every couple has them.”

“Where was he last night?”

“How should I know?” “He’s your husband. You’re supposed to know.”

You didn’t have a chance to argue before she strode closer, her hand resting on your shoulder. You didn’t flinch, or draw away. You were used to her hand on your shoulder, her nails digging into your skin. She didn’t dig her nails in just now—she merely rested and waited.

“Growing pains,” You finally offered again as you looked straight ahead. It was as if Polly had her hand on your other shoulder, and was staring you down in warning.

“Pains?” Pearl repeated. “Physical?”

You don’t want to answer, but—

“Emotional,” You blurted. It was another moment of quiet before she hummed. You stopped yourself from turning to look at Pearl—to catch the no doubt heavy judgment in her dark eyes, and the twist of displeasure to her small mouth.

“I see.”

“It’s early,” You insisted. She hummed again, stepping around you to walk toward the window. It didn’t take much to glance over, to see where Lewis was playfully fighting with John and Finn.

“Do they know?” Pearl asked.

“About where he was?” You shook your head. “I’m sure his brothers do.”

“And?”

“And what?” You scoffed. “It’s no business of theirs. Our marriage is between myself and Thomas.”

Pearl turned to face you with a crisp smoothness, her eyes narrowed as she cocked a hip.

“And that’s all you have to say about it?” She asked. You pursed your lips. You had plenty to say about it, but it would land on deaf ears. Any of Pearl’s meddling would spell trouble, and you weren’t about to sic the dogs less than twenty-four hours into wedded bliss.

“Yes,” You nodded firmly. Pearl’s eyes narrowed further before she hummed, turning back toward the window.

“...This is good for us, Pearl,” You reminded her. “The Shelby’s are strong, they know what they’re doing. I just have to hold up my end.”

“And what end is that?”

“That of a doting wife.”

“And mother?”

Doubtful. Thomas couldn’t even be bothered to touch you as it was. But it was early, you reminded yourself. Things could still change. Things would change. They had to.

“Perhaps,” You leveled evenly. “Someday. Time will tell.”

“Time,” Peal repeated, nodding as she rounded you. “Well, if we’re going on time, so far, you’re not managing it particularly well.”

You slid down in your seat a little as Pearl finally left the dining room. Your interest in the day’s paper had been sapped; your tea had gone cold. You didn’t want anything to do with Thomas Shelby, or with his family, not anymore. If you were going to make it through at least one year of marriage, you needed to nip this in the bud.

“I need to talk to you.”

Tommy didn’t so much as glance at you, his gaze trained steadily on a horse. You waited a moment, shifting from foot to foot, but perhaps you shouldn’t have waited. You’d spent nearly two weeks waiting. Maybe he hadn't heard you? You stepped a little closer and raised a hand to touch him. You couldn’t bring yourself to make contact, and your hand curled in on itself just before it could brush his waistcoat.

“Thomas?” You pressed.

“I’m busy.”

“When can we speak, then?”

“Tonight.”

Certain that he meant it earnestly, you turned away and left.

But the evening came and went, and you found yourself sitting alone, stewing in front of your uneaten dinner and eyeing his empty plate. The house was too quiet, and your thoughts were far too loud. You needed to clear your buzzing head—you wanted a drink, and some fun.

“You can’t let them push you around.”

The warning was spoken knowingly. You knew that she was right, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet Esme’s eye. Her gaze was so heavy, so all-knowing—nothing like the bright, uninterested gaze that Thomas often offered you. But Esme was having none of it. She dipped her head into your field of vision and clapped her hand over yours where it rested on the table beside your drink. You shook her hand away lightly, reaching for your drink instead. Maybe coming to the office to nip out of the bottle Polly kept in her desk had been a bad idea. But you couldn’t bring yourself to just sit in that house and rot in your anger.

“No one is pushing me anywhere,” You grumbled.

Esme let out a soft, cruel chuckle.

“I know what it is,” She insisted, “To come into this family and feel on the outside, feel that you don’t have a voice. Becomin’ a Shelby doesn’t erase who you were before.” She reached out again, taking up your drink and drawing in a deep pull before you could argue. As annoyed as you were, you knew that she was right. You nodded slowly, topping the glass up when she set it back down.

“...Should I not bother replacing Polly’s alcohol, then?”

Esme’s smile grew as yours did, and the two descended into quiet giggles.

“We need to talk.”

It was steely when it left you this time. Despite that, Thomas still paid you no mind. In fact, he went out of his way to take his time drawing on his cigarette before fishing into his waistcoat. He pointedly drew out his pocket watch, flipping it open and eyeing the time. The tick tick tick of the second hand passed for several long moments before he flipped it shut again, lifting his gaze to the hustle and bustle of the office around him.

“Later,” He offered.

Later, always later. Weeks of later, of hearing Lizzie’s footsteps and the creaking across the floor as she left the house before you were up and about for the morning. Weeks of sitting alone in that empty house, putting on a brave face for Pearl and Lewis. Weeks of anger and shame eating through your gut.

“Now,” You spat.

He turned his head toward you, brows ticking up. You could feel the pace of the others in the shop around you slow just a bit, and speeding up again as Thomas shot them a glance.

“Alright,” He murmured, resting his hand on your lower back. You let him steer you toward his office, resolute in your irritation. He opened the door for you, waving you inside and shutting the door behind the two of you.

“What is so urgent that you pulled me away from my work?”

“Your work of watching other people count your money?” You quipped in irritation.

“...What is it that you want to discuss.”

“You need to keep your whoring private.”

Thomas’s brows jumped with intrigue, his chin tipping down toward you.

“Explain.”

“I understand that we went into this with our eyes open and a mutual understanding that the actions that we were taking were for the good of our families, but to the rest of the world, we are husband and wife. I will not ask you to stop your carrying on, as I can't imagine that you’d abide by it if I did, but keep it private. I will not step out on you publicly, and I expect to be given that same respect.”

Thomas blinked before he straightened, pushing away from the door and stubbing out his cigarette in an ashtray on the desk. He muttered something that you couldn’t hear, and you frowned.

“Pardon me?”

“Publicly,” He repeated firmly. “You said that you wouldn’t step out on me publicly.”

“I did,” You nodded.

“Do I get to know the lucky man’s name?”

Your face went hot with indignation. Was he trying to embarrass you? Whether he was or not, it was working. You folded your arms across your chest.

“You’re missing my point.”

“I take your point. You want me to treat you as my partner, and as my wife, you have that right.”

“And will you?”

“You can trust me to be discreet.”

“I don’t trust you to do anything.”

Thomas’ expression closed off, his eyes narrowing a touch, and your stomach twisted with nerves.

“And might I ask why.”

“What have you done to earn it? In our, what, two weeks of marriage, I have hardly seen you. You’ve made no point to acquaint me with your family or your business, and you’ve spent your nights down the hall with another woman. I’m not your wife, I’m a boarder.”

Thomas considered for a moment before he gave a short nod.

“I understand. I will make changes.” “Thomas—”

“I will.”

You pursed your lips together, pushing a sigh out through your nose before you gave a small nod of concession.

“Alright.”

“Anything else?”

“...No.” And, just to seal the deal, “Thank you for your time. And for listening.”

Thomas nodded, straightening up and opening the door for you. You strode toward it, and were nearly through before he rested a hand on your shoulder. You went still, turning your head toward him just a touch. Before you could get a good look at him, Thomas leaned in, brushing a kiss to your cheek. It was the most that he’d touched you since he’d kissed you the morning after your wedding. You thought that he may be making a show of affection for the office, but Thomas turned his head, brushing his lips against your ear.

“If I ever find out that another man has touched you,” He murmured, “I’ll take off the bastard’s hands and give them to you as an anniversary present.”

You balked, shock wracking your chest as he placed a final kiss to your temple before he gave your ass a pat, spurring you into action and sending your scurrying back into the office, and out of his reach.

“It’ll be nice for you to fix up the place and make it your own,” Polly commented.

“She was always going to get around to it of course,” Pearl insisted. You didn’t dare look away from the row of dressers. The one that you had in your bedroom was fine, but it was a bit small. You’d ordered several new pieces of clothing on Tommy’s account—well, on your joint account. Giving the name Mrs. Shelby had incited stunned, wide eyes from the shop keeper’s assistant and prompted fawning and a healthy discount.

Still, as much as you were trying to bring your families together, you realized belatedly that in this case, it was an awful idea. Polly and Pearl had taken every opportunity to take digs at one another, leveling backhanded compliments with smug smiles and drags of their respective cigarettes. The two of them were so painfully similar, and perhaps that was why they seemed to hate one another so much.

“Of course,” Polly echoed placidly.

“I want this one,” You pointed to the one in front of you.

“I’ll find the assistant,” Polly offered, brushing past you. You sighed heavily, shaking your head.

“Please pull it together,” You muttered.

“I’ve nothing to pull together,” Pearl pronounced.

“Please,” You bit out again. “I can’t make any of this work if you and the others don’t, either.”

You heard a deep sigh, chased by the tapping of her cigarette ash beside you.

“I will be myself.”

“I don’t need you to be yourself, Pearl. I need you to be pleasant.”

A little knot of tension unwound as Pearl chuckled.

“Becoming a missus really has given you fangs.”

“I’d rather not use them, if possible.”

“I understand.”

“Thank you.”

“...Are you going to give Miss Sourpuss the same talking-to when she gets back?”

“Lord above.”

“You look like you’ve had a marvelous time.”

Bringing Pearl and Polly to a somewhat peaceful place had been shock enough for that evening, but this took the absolute biscuit.

You might’ve yelped in fear at the sound of his voice if you hadn’t spotted the burning cigarette in the ashtray mere seconds before he spoke. As it was, you didn’t answer right away. You plastered yourself against the backdoor, your hands curled around your key and your purse. Thomas just arched a brow, expectant and silent. He wasn’t supposed to be there. You’d been told that he had business, and you had figured that once that had concluded, he would take care of other…Matters. You'd thought you’d have the house to yourself and have a nice cuppa before going to bed.

You finally managed to push yourself forward, away from the door, your face hot with drink and embarrassment.

“I didn’t think you’d be in,” You admitted.

“You didn’t think I would be spending the evening in my own house?”

“Esme told me there was a family meeting. She said that they can run late.”

“You were misinformed.”

“Clearly.”

You watched Thomas warily as he drifted closer, going tense as he stepped around behind you. You hardly dared breathe for a moment, then let it out as you felt him slide your coat from your shoulders.

“Thank you,” You mumbled as he stepped away with it.

“Were you with Esme?” He asked, tossing your coat over the back of a chair.

“Mhm,” You nodded, taking a few steps deeper into the kitchen. “And Ada, Polly…And Pearl.”

“Where were you?”

“Polly’s house.”

“Mm.”

You watched Tommy round the counter, taking up a clean glass and a bottle of whiskey. You nodded, stepping closer. “Please.”

He poured a good amount before setting the glass on the table. You sat down, watching him do the same. The light in the kitchen was low, casting an orange glow about the room. You felt almost like you were being interrogated as Tommy tucked his cigarette between his lips for another drag. You took your drink up in turn, giving your hands something to do. Besides, finding your husband at home had harshly staunched your blissfully tipsy mood, and you were desperate to get it back. Tommy made no comment as you took a deep swig, and you fought away a wince at the taste and burned as you gulped it down greedily.

“How was the meeting?” You asked.

“Fine…Would you like to know what it’s about?”

“If you’d like to tell me.”

You figured he would let it go there, but he gave a short nod, offering: “We’ve reached a trade agreement with your man in New York.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“Lewis can fill you in on the particulars later.”

Your brows jumped. “Lewis was there?”

“The business concerned him, I made sure he was in attendance.”

“I’m sure he appreciated it.”

He hummed, leaning back in his seat. You took another deep swig from your glass, but you couldn’t bring yourself to draw your gaze away from Tommy’s. He seemed so relaxed—though, maybe it was absurd to find a man relaxed simply because he had removed his suit jacket. Still, he looked irritatingly dashing in his waistcoat.

“Tell me about yourself,” He ordered as you lowered your glass to the table. You cleared your throat, shaking your swimming head to try and clear that, too.

“Pardon me?”

“Well,” Tommy plucked up the bottle again, topping your glass up. “As you have reminded me, you are my wife. I ought to know something about you.”

“...Are you drunk?”

His lips quirked with a small smile. “No. But if you keep on like that, you will be.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“If you say so.”

“I do say so, thank you.”

“I have to be drunk to want to learn about my wife?”

My wife. It made you feel oddly warm as he said it…Though perhaps that was the whiskey.

“We didn’t exactly have the most conventional courtship, or wedding,” You reminded him.

“All the more reason for me to learn about you now.”

“I don’t know where to start.”

“How about with the things you like.”

“I will tell you,” You nod slowly, “But only if you tell me about yourself in turn.”

Thomas seemed to purse his lips before he sat up in his seat. He held his hand out, the gold of his wedding ring glinting in the light.

“You have a deal.”

You hesitated for a few moments, certain that he was putting you on. But when he didn’t draw it back, you raised your hand in turn, grasping his and giving it a shake.

The first hint of light made you wince and turn away. Your mouth was obscenely dry; your head was pounding harshly. You groaned, rolling away from the window. Oh…You did not feel good. Your head felt like it was going to burst; your stomach rolled like you were taking a rocky transatlantic crossing. Oh, god…Were you going to be sick?

You peeked an eye open, then squeezed it shut again. Oh, no. You weren’t sure which was worse, having your eyes open or keeping them closed. You hesitantly opened both eyes, then groaned more loudly, tucking your head beneath your pillow. No. Having your eyes open was definitely worse.

You heard a harsh thudding, as if a giant has managed to get into your room. What on earth—

The pillow lifted away, and you tipped your head up into the cool brush of fingertips against your forehead.

“How’s our Sleeping Beauty?”

You weren’t sure what flustered you more: the teasing tone of Tommy’s voice, or the way the word beauty sounded coming out of his mouth.

“Right as rain,” You mumbled. “Or I will be, once you stop yelling.”

His chuckle brushed your forehead.

“Pearl is on her way to look in on you. Apparently Esme is doing just as well as you are this morning.”

“I don’t wish this on my worst enemy.”

“Rest up.”

“I wasn't planning on doing anything else.”

“Good girl.”

Before you could ask, or argue, or throw a hand out to slap him on the shoulder, he brushed a kiss to your forehead, then drew away fully. You listened to the retreat of his footsteps, a pause, the scraping of the curtains being drawn closed, and the gentle scruuuuuuh—thump of him shutting your bedroom door behind himself. You only dared look around after a few minutes, when you were certain he was gone. You rolled onto your back, sighing and trying to ignore the thud-thud-thud behind your eyes.

You feel like hell, but last night was sort of…Nice.

Drinking with the girls and breaking down some of the barriers before your families had been a success, but coming home to Thomas was…New. It wasn’t unpleasant, as you would’ve previously thought. You scrubbed your hand gently across your eyes, trying to recall your conversation. You had it in bits and pieces—his love of horses, his devotion to his family, his worries for Arthur and John. You wondered if he told you those things because you’d been spifflicated that he didn’t think you’d remember a damn thing. But you remembered.

You remembered the almost kind way that he’d smiled at you a couple of times. You remembered the way he’d taken your hand and led you up the stairs, steadying you when you’d wobbled and taken uneasy steps. You remembered him turning his back as you’d gotten undressed, waiting for you to get into bed before bidding you a goodnight.

A knocking on the door drew you up from your recollection, and you winced at the sound.

“Yes?” You croaked. The door opened, and to your surprise, two heads poked through.

“You’re in a state,” Polly chuckled before Pearl opened your door the rest of the way. The two entered your room, each eyeing the furnishings that were soon to be replaced. You pushed yourself up, wincing as your head spun.

“Had a night, did you?” Pearl settled onto the bed beside you.

“Could you lower your voice, please,” You grumbled.

“Did you go right to bed when you came home?”

“I meant to.”

“But you didn’t?” Polly chimed in.

“No.” You winced as you raised your voice just a touch. “I…I had a conversation with my husband.”

Polly and Pearl cast one another curious glances, so unlike the cutting looks they’d leveled at one another just a couple of days ago.

“It was fine,” You added. “It was…” Nice? Enlightening? Something you would be happy to have again? “Cordial.”

“Was he drinking?” Polly plied.

“We both were.”

Polly and Pearl each hissed, chased by sympathetic tuts.

“You should’ve quit while you were ahead,” Pearl admonished.

“I certainly know that now.”

Polly took another look at you before she patted Pearl’s shoulder, offering, “I’ll put the kettle on.”

“You’re a saint,” Pearl smiled. You sagged back against the headboard, scrubbing a hand over your brow as Polly disappeared.

“Since when are the two of you so friendly?” You asked. Pearl shrugged.

“We’ve come to an understanding…As you have with your husband, apparently.”

“I think it may be a very different kind of understanding.”

“D’you mind if I smoke?”

“...I don’t mean to sound harsh, but if you smoke, Pearl, I will be sick.”

“Better out than in.”

“Please, no.”

It wasn’t every night—it wasn’t even most nights, but you began to spend time with Thomas. It started with him coming home just as you finished dinner, and progressed to Thomas making it home just in time for dinner. Conversation wasn’t always freely flowing, and a few of those first dinners were a little quiet, and awkward. But as you spent more and more time together, those silences became more and more rare, and when conversation wilted, the quiet was comfortable.

You still slept apart, but for the life of you, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d heard Lizzie creeping out of the house as you awoke. Maybe she’d managed to work out which floorboards didn’t creak; maybe Thomas had stopped having her in the house…Or having her at all.

You were certain that the second possibility was the most likely. It still wasn’t the ideal situation, but you appreciated it all the same. Not only had Thomas kept his promise and been discreet, but he was taking the pains to distance you from his romantic liaisons. It was…Almost sweet, all things considered.

“...What are you reading?”

You jolted at the question, sucking in a gasp and dropping the manuscript that had been in your hand. Thomas’ brows rose as he walked deeper into the sitting room.

“You scared me,” You grumbled. “How long have you been here?”

“A few minutes. I called out twice when I came in.”

“Oh,” You frowned. “I’m sorry, I must not have heard you.”

“Clearly.”

He walked deeper into the room, taking up the fallen manuscript and sitting on the green velvet settee beside you. You let your gaze linger, sweeping over him. His jacket had always been removed, though his waistcoat was still intact. His cool eyes swept over the page, brow furrowing a touch as he took in the content. His head began to turn toward you, and you hurriedly stood, rounding to the bar cart.

“Would you like a drink?” You asked.

“Sure.”

You plucked up the bottle of whiskey, uncapping it and pouring a good amount. You rounded back to him, holding the glass out. He crossed his legs, resting the manuscript against it before he took the drink with one hand, patting the seat beside him with the other. You lowered yourself back down hesitantly, acutely aware of the way your thighs brushed.

“What is this?” He asked, nodding toward the pages.

“A book that was sent to us.”

“Topside?”

You smiled a little. Topside was how your family had always referred to the legitimate side of your publishing operations. You were certain that you and the others had said it around Tommy and his family before, but you were surprised he remembered.

“Yes,” You nodded.

“D’you like it?”

“Ah…” You considered before you blew softly between your lips. “I’ve read worse.”

“I’m not sure if that’s an indictment or praise.”

You chuckled. “It’s got a good frame, but the writing is unpolished. Could be good, with a little bit of work.”

“Will you work on it yourself?”

“I may. Need something to do with my time.” It felt like the wrong thing to say as soon as you said it—but Thomas simply hummed, turning the page as he lifted his drink to his lips.

“Redecorating hasn’t been enough of a challenge?” He asked after a moment.

“Well it was, but I’m nearly through. The only room in the house that I haven’t touched is yours.”

“And why is that?” His eyes slid toward you, and the sudden shock of blue made your stomach flip. You shrugged a little, shaking your head.

“I didn’t think you’d want me to.”

Thomas nodded before he turned back to the pages. The two of you fell into silence, and you leaned in a little, reading over his shoulder.

“...Dinner’ll be ready soon,” You told him after a few moments. He nodded, blowing smoke out of the side of his mouth, away from you.

“What’re we having?”

“Roast chicken.”

“Vegetables?”

“Potatoes and carrots.”

“Gravy?”

“Of course. I’m not an animal.”

Thomas huffed a soft laugh through his nose. He turned his head toward you a little, his lips brushing your temple. The touch made your eyes slide closed, your stomach fluttering at the sensation. You were so caught up that you nearly missed what he said next:

“We’re going to London tomorrow.”

You frowned, glancing up toward him. “Why?”

“I’ve a meeting.”

“A meeting that involves me?”

“I want you with me.” He turned his head a little more, nuzzling lightly against your hair. “Besides, it’ll be good for you to get out of the house for a bit.”

“I get out enough.”

“I think you could do with a bit more.”

You hummed thoughtfully before you leaned away, patting his thigh lightly.

“I’ll go check on the bird.”

You only managed to get up and take a single step before Thomas caught hold of your hand. You glanced back as he raised it to his lips, brushing a tender kiss to your knuckles. The action was so small, yet so intimate that it made your breath catch in your throat. He gave your hand a squeeze before letting go of it, letting his arm drift up to rest on the settee. You turned away, hurrying toward the kitchen.

Once you were alone, you braced your hands on the counter, drawing in a deep breath and pushing it out again. Your skin seemed to tingle where he kissed it, and you glanced down, as if you could see some discernible change. You shook your head, shaking your hand before you turned to the oven.

Dinner, get dinner together. You could worry about Thomas’ touch and the trip to London later.

Next Part

Tag list: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @paintballkid711 ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @amneris21 ; @ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage ; @lorecraft ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; @millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices ; @missswriter ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce

#Tommy Shelby x Reader #Tommy Shelby x You #Tommy Shelby/Reader #Tommy Shelby/You #Tommy Shelby fic #Tommy Shelby imagine #Making Arrangements

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ystrike1 · 28 days

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For a Fairytale Ending - By Joowinter (7/10)

I can only recommend this one for otome isekai fans. It won't appeal to anyone else. Its a very slow wish fulfillment fantasy with a "simpleminded" protagonist and enough cliches to fill a book. It's cute, and horrible, and the best characters are the villains. If you like the creepy/cute vibe it's passable.

Alice Estevan is a reincarnated....nope! She has The Eyes of Wisdom! She remembers her previous lives, and she can kinda see the future. The problem is her ability is too overpowered, and it takes a massive toll on her health. Alice Estevan thinks she's a twentysomething BL fan trapped inside a novel, but her brain just isn't big enough to handle her godly blessing.

She's secretly an Imperial Princess.

Her mother is a nut tho. Karina is a former maid who managed to marry a Duke after his wife cheated on him. Alice Estevan isn't even his daughter. Karina just brought her in from a "previous relationship".

Karina is absolutely evil and a child abuser to boot. The Duke married her after his wife's betrayal because he is a thousand times worse. They are a fitting "couple" who think of power and nothing else.

Alice Estevan has to navigate around completely crazy adults to survive.

Her doctor, Evan, is her solace. Evan eventually introduces her to his younger brother, Micheal. Both brothers have divine powers, and they help Alice Estevan heal. Without them she would have become a very bitter and illness ridden child.

Edwin actually is the Duke's son. The previous Duchess did not cheat. He was born with black hair because Karina used expensive dark magic power to change his appearance. The Duchess also died during childbirth, because Karina was her handmaiden at the time. She was being fed multiple poisons during her pregnancy.

Edwin is locked away in a tower, and Karina abuses him with a whip.

Why is he there?

Why would the cruel Duke keep some unknown bastard from his dead wife?? Plus some unknown bastard from his second wife???

Karina thinks she's smart, and a true villainess. However, she's just a pawn.

Karina tries to poison Alice, her own daughter, because she's a sick freak.

Micheal gets hurt instead, so Alice decides to expose the black hair trick.

Karina is banished.

Edwin is released from his prison tower thanks to Alice, who he is now obsessed with.

The thing is...Alice isn't a genius.

How did this work out so well?

Is Alice really heading towards a happy ending, or is it all a trap?

First things first we should establish that Edwin isn't a nice guy. He tries to kill Michael multiple times....by rotting him from the inside out with dark magic. Micheal doesn't notice though. Michael has alot of Divine Power. In another future Edwin and Michael would have been toxic lovers, but now of course Edwin loves his bastard non-blood sister.

There's a time skip and reality starts to crack for Alice Garnet, who retook her maiden name after her mother was banished. She starts to see multiple "plots". She's supposed to be in a BL book, but nothing of the sort has happened. Reality feels organically real now that she's an adult. She starts seeing glimpses of the future that have nothing to do with the "plot" she thought she knew.

She experiences terrifying visions about Edwin, her closest friend. He's no longer crazy in love with Micheal. He never was, and he's so gentle on the surface. She doesn't understand why she keeps seeing the castle covered in blood.

Edwin is barely holding it together.

He's pretending to be sane so Alice will play with him.

The Duke reveals himself. He is a formidable enemy. Karina was tasked with watching over her because....you guessed it! Alice is secretly the Emperors daughter! What a shocking twist! She's a princess how original! Every member of the Imperial Family has special holy powers....that can kill them or drive them insane. The Duke has been raising Alice as a breeding horse, so he can take over the country. It's already in motion. He's currently controlling the Emperor with magic drugs.

Edwin won't move to kill his father as long as Alice is happily playing with him, but what will happen when she finds out the truth?

Her entire life has been a lie, and her powers are too much for her body. The Eyes of Wisdom made her extremely ill. She thought she was inside a book because she saw many visions while she slept. Her body is weak and frail. She's only happy because she has a few trusted friends. She doesn't even really want to be a Princess, but is she willing to use Edwin to get more freedom?

Not really.

She doesn't want to take advantage of her friends.

#yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #recommendations #recs #rec #recommended #webtoon #otome #otome isekai #isekai

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jensettermandu · 3 months

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maneater - lalisa manoban

genre; smut

pairing; g!p lisa x female reader

content; fingering, slight edging, semi public (they have sex in a public bathroom), p in v :D, idk i don't think i missed anything

wc; 6.7k+

masterlist

Expensive cars, luxury brands, trips worldwide, houses on every continent, and events for the elites.

These were just some of the things in Lisa’s life.

A long line of generational wealth.

Sitting at a charity dinner wasn’t unusual for her despite only being 23. She was next in line to take over her family business once she would be suitable enough to do so. Those were years yet to come–five maybe seven before she would get to even touch that power.

Of course, it all came with rival companies worth multiple billions who would always stand in the way, steal deals, and be competitive.

The ballroom was filled with chatter as everyone conversed and even if it was charity, for most it was just a chance for new business. She wasn’t invited as a plus one anymore but got her invites because her name would be important in the future. That was why she was sitting at another table, far from her father.

Eight different people sat at the round table.

There were so many different tables and close to 300 people at the charity.

Out of all the seven different people she could have been seated with, right beside her was the 21-year-old Zhou Y/n who came from an even bigger line of generational wealth after being part of an old Chinese dynasty.

The only heir of one of the biggest oil companies from a conservative family from China.

Conservative media-wise until Y/n came along.

The last headline Lisa could remember was the girl getting a DUI and she knew that there was so much more but her family covered every little trace, but driving a car into a pole right before the media would be hard to cover.

Where Y/n went chaos followed.

What Lisa couldn’t phantom was how someone like her was set to start working by her father’s side in just four more years. Takeover in a couple more. Quicker than Lisa.

Smart. Y/n was incredibly smart despite everything else.

She somehow balanced chaos and intelligence.

Aside from that the girl was the daughter of Lisa’s father’s biggest competitor, arch-rival at this point as there was nothing but bad blood which automatically put a wall between her and Y/n.

She hated the entitled and spoiled brat beside her, she was born to hate her and she would do so to carry on the legacy of hate as Y/n hated her just as much.

The only difference was that Y/n had a different approach to hatred.

She made sure to make Lisa’s life miserable every time she had the chance while Lisa tried to hate her from her corner and not cause any trouble.

It wasn’t like they saw each other often.

Y/n was studying in a different state.

She knew these things because she simply did, it wasn’t like Y/n had somehow caught Lisa’s interest after she grew some boobs. Definitely not.

Lisa had tried to keep her conversations going with the other five people at the table because the sixth was already being in Y/n’s trance which was Kim Jisoo. There didn’t seem to be a single person to fall for it.

Aside from that the rest of the table was filled with men and women in their early to late 40s.

However, she had found herself glancing over at the two girls now and then. Unfortunately for Lisa, the girl who smelled of sweet floral heaven beside her was sexy. Y/n was the definition of sex appeal.

Everyone had something they liked, and Lisa liked women who were of the standard that Y/n was. Not many were but whatever was close enough. Now one that was of the highest standard was right beside her. One that was off limits to her which only made it that much more cravable.

Her glances had been subtle, only pretending to look around to maybe catch the girl’s exposed clavicles in the black dress and some of the cleavage. Or she would fix her chair to try and catch her legs in the black sheer tights. The way she would flip her hair back gently and only expose herself more all while having a conversation with Kim Jisoo who was just as lost in Y/n as Lisa was.

Y/n was a big and seductive flirt is what Lisa had caught on to.

She always led men and sometimes women on at these parties for fun.

She had seen it herself and she had run into these victims who would ask Lisa if she had seen the girl who she would prior see leave the place with that resting bitch face.

Lisa had never fallen victim to Y/n’s misleading that she did for entertainment. These events could get boring at times.

Although, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to fall victim either.

Whatever subtle glances Lisa had thought she had gotten away with had all been obvious to the soul-sucking vampire beside her as she left everyone heartbroken with her games.

Lisa jumped in her seat, getting startled in the middle of her conversation with the woman who was sitting on her left. She quickly put down the glass with champagne to not spill anything on her clothes after whatever brushed along her leg had made her flinch at how sudden it was.

“I’m sorry, what was it that you said?” She apologised to the woman and leaned somewhat closer to hear her better, trying to play it off as if she hadn’t heard her. Lisa continued to listen to the woman, brushing it off as an accident despite the only possible culprit being the woman who had a husband beside her or the siren on her right.

Whoever it was it had to be an accident–

Just a few seconds after she felt it right again but it startled her less. Lisa cleared her throat and leaned back in her chair, nodding to what the woman had said. She subtly glanced under the table and it had to be Y/n who was sitting with her right leg crossed over her left.

Accident.

When she looked over at Y/n she was showing off that perfect smile to the man who sat across from her and Jisoo.

She let out a sigh and reached for her champagne glass. It would get overwhelming way too quickly otherwise. The woman would have been able to take that sip of expensive bubbles if it hadn’t been for the foot that ran right up her shin and she forcefully gulped it down. The thin glass almost slipped from her hold and she placed it right back down.

Just as Lisa turned to not glance at the entitled girl but actually look at her, the woman felt a heat run over her spine in the worst way possible considering this was Y/n. She did not need these reactions because of her.

“I’m so sorry–” Y/n apologised, her body was now turned to Lisa who widened her eyes as the vixen had placed her slender hand right on Lisa’s thigh to show her concern. “It’s just so tight here and I tried to make myself more comfortable, didn’t mean to startle you, Lisa.” Lisa clenched her jaw at the teasing in Y/n’s tone as the girl’s eyes were playing an innocent and apologetic look which was far from what her lips were releasing.

Lisa huffed from her nose, nostrils flaring as the hand clasped on her thigh was warm and firm with the grip. “It’s fine.” Y/n gave her a smile at that, Lisa’s whole body tensing up at the squeeze she gave her before she let go. Her eyes watched Y/n for a few more seconds, seeing that glint in her eyes and smile that meant no good.

“Mrs. Park, I have no idea how I missed you,” Y/n exclaimed and Lisa leaned back into her chair. The scent of the vixen was strong and it was running ideas in Lisa’s head from the sexual appeal it drove further. She was invading Lisa’s space on purpose, her hand holding onto the back of the woman’s chair, her modest chest just a mere inch from touching Lisa’s arm.

It left her trapped.

“Oh God no, me and Chaeyoung have been studying day and night.” Lisa scoffed under her breath at the words she knew were lies. Her guy and girlfriends were obsessed with observing what the elite beside her was up to. It all included wild parties with booze that could fill pools. Her little group of friends were all taking part in it so Chaeyoung wasn’t studying day and night.

Y/n hummed to what Mrs Park said while Lisa toyed with the knife on the table to not interrupt them by trying to talk with someone else. “Is that so?” Y/n questioned and Lisa was dying in her chair at the hand that moved from the backrest of the chair and onto her shoulder, the foot right back to brushing against her leg–it wasn’t even slightly subtle the way it went higher and higher up, dragging up her slacks before letting them fall back down.

Lisa was trying to find a reason to excuse herself as she was starting to get overwhelmed by Y/n. All while trying not to do any abrupt movements. The girl was all over her and out of all the times now was the time she had no control over her cock that was starting to react to someone she despised. She cursed Y/n for her good genes.

Her eyes trailed along her bare skin, hair in waves and falling over her shoulders, but Y/n moved it with her other hand. All that hair went from her left side and onto the right, it only showed off her smooth and slim body more to Lisa. The dress was accentuating her small chest, pushing her breasts together and Lisa moved her brown eyes up at her sharp collarbones, a diamond pendant resting between them. Her neck was slim and perfect and Lisa was growing harder the longer she looked at Y/n.

“Oh this, ring?” There was a drop of mischievousness in her tone.

Lisa found out why it was there right away.

Y/n’s hand ran down her shoulder and along her arm, until her left hand was planted right by her crotch, thumb merely brushing over the forming bulge as she leaned forward and stretched out her right hand that Mrs Park grabbed to look at the diamond ring.

“Daddy bought it for my 21st birthday.” She happily replied, adding more pressure on Lisa’s thigh who was growing into a mess.

“Excuse me.” Lisa excused herself, the chair dragged along the flooring louder than necessary and Y/n sat right back when she broke the contact between her and Mrs Park. Ultimately removing Y/n from herself before she disappeared. The girl excused herself from her conversation with the older woman before she looked at the one beside her.

“See, it doesn’t matter if they hate me, Jisoo…No one can resist my appeal.” Y/n said with a giggle and bit her lower lip as she looked back at Jisoo. “I won the bet, so…The number please.” The girl took her designer clutch purse and reached for her phone while Jisoo clicked her tongue.

“Do I have to give it to you?” Jisoo asked to make sure as the bet was her cousin’s number and the last thing she wanted was for Y/n to seduce poor Jennie too.

“A deal is a deal.” She handed over her phone and leaned back into her seat before looking over her shoulder where Lisa had disappeared. Winning the bet she had made with the girl beside her.

“I thought Lisa would be better than this.” Jisoo sighed and handed the girl her phone back, only hoping that Jennie wouldn’t be as stupid as Lisa and she had been.

The bet?

Seduce Lisa and get Jennie’s number.

Don’t succeed within five minutes, Jisoo gets Y/n’s number.

God, Jisoo was pissed that she had to give her cousin's number to Y/n when she wanted it. She thought it would be an easy bet to win as she knew about the rivalry between the two families and how that created a feud between the heirs. It didn’t seem to matter as Y/n could get anyone to crumble before her.

She watched Y/n who put the phone away and gently slid her chair back before excusing herself to leave as she stood up. “Where’re you going?” Jisoo asked and grabbed hold of her wrist. Not wanting the girl to leave her company.

Y/n gave her a little smile. “Finish what I started?” She said and Jisoo gave her a look.

“What? She’s hot compared to the rest. Don’t be jealous.” Y/n defended and slipped out of Jisoo’s grip as she usually just left everyone right after, but Lisa was hot even if they were meant to despise each other.

Jisoo sighed and leaned back in her seat as she watched Y/n walk away, realising that she had been played with just as much as Lisa tonight. The only difference was that Lisa got lucky this time and Jisoo didn’t.

Lisa unlocked the door after spending a good minute trying to tuck her erection right to hide it. She was both pissed at herself and even more pissed at Y/n while trying to grasp how she let the girl affect her. It just so happened that the girl she despised was utterly attractive.

The woman pushed the door open while finishing to buckle her belt, but looked up at the voice.

“Everything alright, Lisa?” The voice came out angelic, with so much worry, concern, and innocence that Lisa would have almost believed it if it hadn’t been for the person behind that voice. Her eyes landed on Y/n who was sitting on top of the marble counter, one leg crossed over the other while leaning back against her palms. She did not look concerned, worried, innocent or angelic.

She looked like the sexy she-devil herself.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” She tried to play it off because her ego was too big to feed into Y/n’s and admit that she had caused her an erection. Never. The woman could feel the siren eyes following her as she walked over to the black marble countertop and turned on the faucet to wash her hands.

“Are you sure? You just ran off all flustered.” She hummed at that, keeping her gaze on her hands and avoiding looking at Y/n at all costs.

Y/n watched how Lisa swallowed, her eyes trailing further down where she had done a poor job hiding her erection. With her lower lip trapped between her teeth, she leaned forward, gripping the edge of the countertop with her hands before letting go with one and reaching over to Lisa.

“Do you hate me, Lisa?” She mumbled, fingers dancing around Lisa’s shoulder who stopped washing her hands. She raised an eyebrow and looked at Y/n who was already looking back at her, grey eyes staring deep into hers, hypnotising her, distracting her fully from the haughty little smirk she was sporting.

“What’s there to like?” Lisa asked back with a scoff, unflatteringly drying her hands on her slacks. Her eyes were hard yet still exploring whatever she could with them as Y/n was extremely close now.

“There’s only so little you can see, but so much more to explore.” The words caught her off guard and she grabbed hold of the wandering hand that was running down her bicep. Lisa dropped Y/n’s slender hand and licked her lips as they stood in the empty restroom that was lit by a golden-like yellow, with black marble, accentuated by gold. Their bodies reflected in the big mirror that was on the wall and a second-long silence fell upon them. Lisa's dick twitched at those stupid words she was falling for because there was no way Y/n was offering herself to her. She probably wanted to make a fool out of Lisa for even thinking about it.

“I’m not falling for your games, Y/n.” Y/n smiled at that with a hum and Lisa took it as her queue to leave.

She was stopped though, her eyes snapped up at Y/n with confusion. The girl stretched her long leg out and blocked the way. It sent a shiver over her whole body when her calf brushed over her hard cock and she stepped back when Y/n pushed more into it.

“Help me down? Wouldn’t want to break a heel.” With a deep inhale Lisa decided to assist the girl after she pointed with her head towards the black heels she had on. Her lips were pursed and she looked in the mirror behind Y/n instead while she gripped her waist and the girl held onto the lapels of her blazer. She was light as a feather as Lisa lifted the slim figure off of the counter.

Y/n giggled as she purposely lost balance and her hands grabbed hold of the hem of Lisa’s pants. Her body pressed into Lisa’s who strained a groan when her dick got rubbed at by accident and she angrily looked down at Y/n who looked as amused as ever.

“Y/n.” She warned and pushed the girl up by her waist who was taller than her with heels on and without them she was just an inch taller.

“Yes?” The vixen questioned, fingers teasing and hooking around the hem of Lisa’s pants. Looking at her through her lashes and still sporting that faux innocence that always got her out of trouble. The poor girl could cause no harm, could she? Not when she was playing a kitten that was kicked to the curb and standing in the pouring rain.

“Stop.” Lisa would only give her one last warning and then she knew that she would snap because of how sexually frustrated she was.

“Or what?” Y/n challenged.

“Or you will regret it.” She earned a breathless chuckle that fell from Y/n’s plump and glossy lips.

“I don’t think I will.” There was that deeper tone back, the one that was like a melody of sex and drew Lisa in further. Y/n’s normal voice and not the sweet one she did to play along in her games. That innocence washed away and everything Lisa should repent when it came to Y/n coming to light. Things that made her cock strain.

Lisa almost got lightheaded when a sneaky hand cupped her, squeezing at her erection enough to elicit a moan from the back of her throat.

Y/n feigned a gasp, knowing very well what was coming when she got pinned against the counter. Her hands gripped Lisa’s blazer and she pulled her even closer to her while the older woman grabbed hold of her hips. Lisa’s eyes were hard on her as she stood pressed against the girl, staring her down while watching the way Y/n bit her lower lip to try and contain the haughty smirk that still broke out on her plump and glossy lips.

“Do you always get what you want?” Lisa questioned, watching how Y/n ran her one hand down along her upper body, and down her stomach. The touch was slowly sending Lisa into a frenzy as she couldn’t deny the fact that Y/n was gorgeous and that many would pay to even be in this place that Lisa was, if not kill for it.

This was the daughter of the elite of elites which meant that she stood above all too.

“I’m daddy’s girl so yes.”

And Y/n got what she wanted once again when she cupped Lisa through her pants, the woman groaning and muffling it by pressing her lips against Y/n’s. The older used her strength to raise Y/n back onto the counter, making her wrap her legs around Lisa’s waist and pulling her into her. Her grip tightened on Y/n’s slim waist while her other hand tangled in the silky hair at the back of the girl’s head, tilting her head and pushing her tongue between Y/n’s parted lips.

The girl welcomed her into her mouth, swallowing Lisa’s tongue and sucking on it while her hands tugged onto the belt, blindly trying to unbuckle it.

“God, you’re so eager,” Lisa grumbled after slowly pulling away with Y/n’s bottom lips between hers as she tugged on it before letting go.

“I don’t have the whole night to waste on you.” Lisa could strangle the girl who knew how highly she stood above all. Lisa would always be a waste of time unless she would show her that she wasn’t. She was sure the girl had had her fair share of fun and that it would be hard to be the best, but Lisa always liked to prove herself. Her lips trailed Y/n’s smooth skin who tilted her head back, leaving her slim neck to be kissed along.

“Waste?” Lisa questioned. Her words were a whisper in Y/n’s ear as she was right by her pulse point. Her tongue came out and the belt was undone, licking at the skin, being able to feel it pulse against her slick muscle before she wrapped her lips around the skin. It elicited a light sigh from Y/n who unzipped Lisa’s pants after undoing the button on them.

“Unless you manage to impress me.” Y/n teased, teeth tugging Lisa’s ear who shivered at the gesture. Her hand came down from the back of her head to the back of her neck and she pulled Y/n away, making her look her in the eye. “Pretty eyes won’t work on me though.” Y/n continued, hand coming up to cup Lisa’s face, thumb running over her wet lips and tugging it down as she pulled her face closer to her. The two were a few mere inches away.

Anyone walking in and they both would be in trouble.

Lisa would be in deep mud and her father’s business included if Y/n’s father found out that Lalisa Manoban had touched his princess. That the daughter of his biggest rival had touched his daughter. Lalisa Manoban would be dickless for the rest of her life.

Too bad his daughter never followed the rules and was spoiled rotten.

Her thumb ran down to the woman’s chin and Lisa attached her lips right back onto Y/n’s. With that, her hands ran to the hem of the dress and she started to pull it up, bunching up its expensive material at the girl’s waist. Y/n’s fingers fiddled with the hem of the briefs, slowly inching inside them until her slender fingers wrapped around Lisa’s scalding cock that was warm and heavy in her hand.

The small whimpers were muffled by Y/n’s mouth as the girl squeezed the length in her hand, stroking up and gathering precum that she smeared down the hard cock. It was followed by two thuds as she slipped off the designer heels to get off the sheer tights–Lisa had other plans. The material ripped when Lisa ran her hands between the girl’s thighs, tearing the thin black material apart.

“Not impressive,” Y/n mumbled as she pulled away from Lisa’s lips, the woman trying to chase for them but stopping at the way her tip got squeezed. The girl caught the way her eyelids almost fell closed and a moan pushed from the back of her throat.

“Not everyone is here to please you.” Lisa rasped, gripping Y/n’s thigh and squeezing it in her hold while running the fingers of her other hand along the girl’s inner thigh. She could feel how she fought the way she wanted to close them at the teasing. It tugged at the corners of Lisa’s lips as the two stared at each other, Y/n slowly working the length in her hand while Lisa’s fingers brushed over the lace material. It worked a barely there sigh from the siren, Lisa being able to feel the slick slowly seep through the material of her underwear.

“Or maybe you just don’t know how to please me?” Y/n fueled a fire that grew in Lisa who slowly pushed the lace aside, her hips barely staying still as Y/n hadn’t stopped stroking her cock. The girl was making it hard for Lisa to stay nonchalant about this, making it hard to make it seem as if she wasn’t trying to impress her.

The girl caught how Lisa’s eyebrow twitched, fighting the dilemma she was in, but dismissed it for now. Her eyes focused on Y/n’s face when she ran her fingers through the girl's slit, parting her wet folds and smiling at the way her plump lips parted with a gasp. It made her hand movement stop as she removed her hand from Lisa’s briefs and grabbed hold of her forearm, the other clutched onto her shoulder.

The woman ran her slender fingers through the wet folds, slowly teasing the girl, wanting to put her through some suffering for what she had done. Lisa leaned in, pecking the parted lips, Y/n’s eyebrows creasing and her chest heaving at the way she was getting something, but not nearly enough. Lips pressed against hers, tracing to her cheek, and jaw before Lisa dipped her head and kissed along her neck all while taking in the small gasps that Y/n let out that were turning whiny.

“Fuck–” Y/n cursed, Lisa being stronger and not letting the girl guide her hand when she teased her two fingers over the swollen clit. She only nudged it and could feel nails dig into her forearm through the blazer.

“What is it?” Lisa mocked, running her fingers down and circling the hole that was clenching as she gathered more of the slick. Y/n exhaled deeply through her nose and looked at Lisa who pulled away from her neck. There was a stupid smile on the woman’s lips, the younger unable to close her legs because Lisa was between them, the pressure growing and her clit only got circled again.

“Poor Y/n isn’t getting what she wants.” She said with a chuckle, hissing when the girl held onto the side of her neck and dug her nails into the skin.

“Poor Lisa won’t get her dick wet if she doesn’t stop acting like an asshole.”

Y/n was truly making it hard for Lisa to not obey her every word–

With a huff, Lisa dipped her hand down, two fingers intruding into the clenching hole and slowly pushing inside the heat that sucked her in and throbbed around her.

Her eyes fell on the siren ones, it made her dick twitch at the look in her eyes, those parted lips glistening as each expression was so erotic that Lisa was ready to just pull her fingers out and replace them with her cock. Her fingers curled, being knuckles deep inside the girl’s pulsating cunt that tightened with each stroke and Y/n moaned as fingers pressed against the spongy spot.

“The daughter of an elite is having her pussy fingered in the middle of a charity event in a bathroom—You couldn’t get any hotter with how dirty you are.” Lisa caught Y/n’s lips right after, the kiss got sloppier as Y/n was doing a poor job of containing herself. Her moans bounced off the empty walls of the marble bathroom at the way Lisa was circling her clit with her thumb, rubbing against her wall and slowly the tension grew in her body.

The girl was far from a saint, and Lisa was loving every second of it, especially since she was fucking thee Zhou Y/n.

The squelching of her snug pussy mixed with her whimpering moans, Lisa doing scissoring motions to stretch and get her ready for her cock. “So good,” Y/n whined. She pulled away from Lisa’s mouth who licked her lips, collecting any saliva and getting another taste of what was left of the girl’s lip gloss. Her forehead fell on Lisa’s shoulder, scratching along her neck with each zap that ran across her spine and her hips merely bucked into the thumb that was playing with her aching nub.

Lisa hummed at those words that were boosting her ego, but she wasn’t aware of the smile that tugged on Y/n’s lips. Her walls fluttered around the two fingers that were spreading her tight hole, caressing at her g-spot. Lisa looked in the mirror, mesmerised by the way Y/n’s back arched like a cat, her ridges perfect.

“Shame that I’ve had better.” Y/n sighed, leaning into Lisa’s neck with her breath fanning the skin. She bit down and pulled, making Lisa groan at the pain as somewhere between the lines they still had to hate each other. “Fuck, you’re a bitch.” She sucked air through her teeth and grabbed Y/n’s shoulder, pulling her away from her neck.

The girl let out a breathless giggle, the fingers still working her cunt and Lisa sped up her thrusts, watching the way it made Y/n’s press more into her. The hand that gripped her forearm tightened around her and so did the walls as the girl let out whiny moans, being brought right to the edge with Lisa’s fingers deep within her walls.

“Oh–Oh fuck.” It started to wash over her, stomach tightening and Lisa slowed down her movement, removing some pressure from the girl’s clit. It made Y/n whine in frustration at the high that got disrupted, her snug walls now throbbing uncomfortably.

“You want to be a tease?” Y/n questioned, grabbing hold of Lisa’s blazer and pulling her into her, making Lisa stop fully. Her fingers pulled out of the snug confines of the slick pussy. The woman bit her lower lip, forehead pressed against Y/n’s while she ran the same hand down to her boxers.

“Who was teasing me under the table?” Lisa questioned, trying to catch Y/n’s lips again because they moved so smoothly against hers and the way the girl sucked on her tongue made her lightheaded. Y/n moved back though, leaving her to a chase that she lost when Y/n held her back.

“I can’t help that everyone folds so easily for me, Lisa.”

Y/n’s hand came over to Lisa’s helping her pull down the briefs as she closed the gap and caught Lisa’s upper lip between hers, having her lower one sucked by the older. It went smoothly as Lisa propped herself up by planting her palm against the mirror behind Y/n who led the swollen pinkish tip towards her sopping wet entrance.

It made Lisa shudder and Y/n tugged on her lip at the stretch that came, thighs trying to close but were unable to with Lisa between them.

“Can you take it all?” Lisa asked through a deep breath as she pushed her tip inside the walls that were squeezing hard enough to almost push her back out. The blazer bunched in Y/n’s fist by the woman’s frail shoulder and she wrapped her legs around Lisa’s waist.

“Don’t let it get into your head.” Y/n moaned at the way Lisa pushed everything in all at once at her answer. It shot a heat through her spine and she pulled her closer with her legs. The stretch came painfully yet it made her want more as Lisa slowly started to move her hips with a chuckle at the words.

“Haven’t had anyone stretch you out good enough, fuck–I will make sure your pussy fits my cock perfectly.” Lisa groaned, wrapping her arm around the slim waist of the girl, holding her close and burying her face in the crook of her sweet neck as the scent drove that carnal desire further.

Y/n’s moans grew louder within a few seconds as Lisa wasn’t waiting around. Her thrusts were slow and deep, going at a steady pace and the gasps were falling from Y/n’s lips. The girl’s back arched into her, pressing her chest against Lisa’s as her eyes closed. Each gasp and moan came right into Lisa’s ear. Grunts pushed through the back of her throat each time she fucked her cock right back into Y/n after pulling out as much as possible.

She rolled her hips in a perfect and hard rhythm, each time making the girl’s breath hitch. The walls were filled to the brim, her dick curved perfectly to rub at her g-spot and reach every single spot she needed to reach as her cock was stuffing Y/n perfectly. Lisa was losing her mind over how tight the girl was, fingertips pressing against the mirror as she groaned.

It was hard not to think about who exactly it was that Lisa was pounding her cock into. Y/n was moaning right under her, walls squeezing her cock, being able to feel the other throb with need after each stroke. The idea that this could end so badly drove Lisa even further, wanting to fuck Y/n good enough to want more of the thrill of fucking someone she shouldn’t.

“Fuck, Y/n, your pussy is so good, isn’t it—could fuck it right every day,” Lisa mumbled, her voice turning into a gruff one as she pulled away from the girl’s neck.

“Have to make me come to fuck me again.” Y/n moaned out and it made Lisa run her hand away from her waist. Her fingers found back to the slick clit and Y/n leaned back, palms planted against the marble behind her. Her eyes were intense on Lisa’s who was still fucking her, each thrust making the girl move who unwrapped her legs and spread them further for the cock that was abusing her throbbing pussy. The eyes that looked in hers were in a full haze as Lisa was getting closer with each second.

“Gonna have you run back for more.” Lisa forced the word out with another grunt.

The eye contact broke as Y/n threw her head back, her back arched and heat covered her whole body. The cock inside her was throbbing, dragging along her snug walls, caressing them and the wetness was running down further with each of the thrusts.

Their moans grew louder, only hoping that no one would be heading towards the bathroom or walking past it as the event was in full force with the main part of it starting any second now. Yet it left them both curious about what would happen if someone did catch them. It only made them fuck that much better. The ruffling of their clothes mixed with the wet sounds of Y/n’s pussy and Lisa’s dick filling the clenching hole that was sucking her in.

The woman leaned down, unable to keep herself away from the clavicle that was on full display for her and the little cleavage. Her lips wetly kissed along the skin, sucking gently to not leave any unwanted marks until she reached the soft cleavage of the girl. Gently she nipped at the skin, feeling the way it made Y/n squeeze her length and whine, her chest pressing more into Lisa’s face.

“Close ‘m so close, Lisa.” Y/n cried, this time not wanting the high to end before it could peak. Lisa kept up the movement of her hips while sucking on the soft skin of Y/n’s chest. Probably leaving a hickey here and there after herself.

“Fuck, come on squeeze my cock and come, Y/n.”

Her pussy clasped tightly around the hard cock, back arching and a train of moans slipping out of her mouth that grew in pitch. The tension grew hard enough to break and Y/n was right at the high before falling at such force that her eyes rolled back. Her thighs quivered around Lisa as they closed in on her again. She slowed down her movement, looking at Y/n who was heaving for air while coming undone before her.

Her stomach flexed to hold herself until Y/n gripped onto her to stop. The girl swallowed down her dry throat, whining at how Lisa was still fucking her through the uncomfortable aftershocks.

“I’m gonna–” She was cut off, groaning when the girl pushed her back without a second thought. Her cock slipped out of the warmth of her and Lisa barely managed to grab hold of her dick before cum started to spurt out of her tip. Her hand balled into a fist as she planted it on the wall beside her after losing the leverage of the mirror. Y/n felt the warm cum splatter against her thigh, seeping through the sheer tights, staining more than them as Lisa had no aim whatsoever.

“Great.” Y/n deadpanned, the woman was still lightheaded and trying to catch her breath when she got shoved back by the girl's foot against her thigh.

“What?” She breathed out, fingers gripping the wall to not fall as she looked down. The mess was on the girl’s black dress, covering the hem in her creamy and sticky cum–Lisa cringed at the amount she released, more than usual. It made her quickly tuck her cock back inside her pants, not having time to zip them up as she reached for the paper towels. The faucet turned on as she wet it before reaching over to the girl’s dress.

Y/n leaned back as she hadn’t been expecting it and rolled her eyes while waiting for Lisa to finish.

“Sorry.”

“Shut up,” Y/n said and clicked her tongue, looking at Lisa with a face that held disgust as she still didn’t like her despite the good orgasm she gave her. She pushed her back again and Lisa leaned against the wall while Y/n got down the counter to remove the sheer tights.

Lisa’s mind still trying to comprehend the fact that she had just fucked the girl everyone wanted to be or be with. She even ruined her dress. Lisa felt stupidly proud as she grinned.

Y/n discarded them in the trash and slipped her heels back on.

“You ruined my dress, time to cut the charity short so I can go home.”

“What’re you doing?” She questioned the girl who walked over to the door and opened it. The big corridor was empty, but the loud chatter from the ballroom was still filling it as she followed right after Y/n who was looking through her clutch purse. Lisa’s eyes were glued to Y/n who was walking fine, more than fine as she looked like she was on a catwalk while Lisa’s legs felt numb. It made her lean against the door frame with a frown, unable to bring herself to walk much more just yet. Her hands quickly worked to button up her slacks before anyone would see her this messy.

Y/n turned to her with that devilish smile on her face as she stood by the wall opposite of Lisa.

Where Y/n went chaos followed.

“It’s for a good cause, Lisa–here’s my card in case you ever need a job, I guess you could walk my dog or something.” Lisa’s eyes winded, a private business card being flicked at her chest before it fluttered onto the floor and she watched Y/n reach for the fire alarm. The blaring alarm went off, the chatter getting drowned out before it was followed by panicked voices, and fire sprinklers going off. Her eyes were on Y/n who was already walking away while Lisa subconsciously crouched down and reached for the card. People slowly starting to pile the corridor.

Lisa did text.

She just never got an answer.

#blackpink smut #girl group smut #fanfic #smut #g!p lisa #lisa x reader #blackpink lisa x reader #g!p lisa x reader #g!p lisa x female reader #lisa smut #blackpink lisa smut #kpop gg smut

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personasintro · 7 months

Text

Mutual Help | #33

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, mature content

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.9k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢

December rolls quickly, along with the first snow of the year coating buildings' roofs and the roads. As much as you were excited when you saw the first snowflakes dropping from the sky and melting right away, with your troublesome car it has become inconvenient. You pray every morning that your car's battery isn't dead or there won't be any other trouble waiting for you the second you sit into the car.

Snow has been one of the few things, your favorite things, you appreciate about winter. You don't like the cold that much, wearing too many layers of clothing that it becomes hard to move in, it never has appealed to you that much. Christmas, the family holiday that is approaching very closely, is a part of your favorite things in and about winter. Which reminds you you should buy presents sooner than two days before Christmas like you did last year.

You're planning to go back to your hometown, obviously spending a family holiday with none other than your own family. And even though you've in mind what to get to your parents, you've no idea what to get to Jungkook. You know him, knowing what he likes and does in his free time but fuck, it's so hard to buy him something. The man is successful enough to buy anything he likes, and he does enjoy expensive things. Things you probably can't afford with your bills and additional expenses for your car. The bar pays well, in three months or so, you'll be able to actually look around for a better car. And although you know if Jungkook heard your thoughts and struggles about his Christmas gift, he'd assure you not to buy him anything. But you can't exactly do that, can you?

Coincidentally, the mentioned man is right in front of you in his natural habitat and by that, you mean doing one of the things he loves most. Taking pictures. Apparently Junho has been so pleased with the outcome of Jungkook's pictures he provided for the company last month, that he has decided to call him over again. This time Jungkook prepared you for his presence, not forgetting to point out that Junho must like him since he called him personally and asked him to do today's photoshoot.

Poor women are in their bikinis, just a casual set of beige bikinis, nothing too sexy, probably freezing even though there are a set of heaters around them to keep them warm. Jungkook is making sure to work quickly, you notice the way he eyes the women with worried eyes when he sees one of them shiver slightly.

Although you've seen Jungkook taking pictures countless times, there's something different seeing him doing it while actually working. It's not for fun or his personal interest, he's working while being professional. You're not blind, seeing models eyeing the young photographer with tattoos on display while they suddenly don't mind the cold that much is somehow relatable. However, you're not freezing and you're behind the scenes of it all, but still having a perfect view of Jungkook's back. Even from the place you're standing, you can notice his arms flexing each time he pulls up the camera and takes a few shots. With each model he's done, doing solo but couple shots as well, he starts reviewing the pictures with a prominent and focused frown.

"Is it just me or it's suddenly hot in here?"

Glancing at your co-worker, you see him fan his face before he gives you an obvious mischievous smirk.

"The heaters do an amazing job." you comment, straightening yourself as you hand a fluffy robe to one of the models that walks to Jungkook, looking at the pictures he has taken of her.

You notice the way she stands right behind him, making sure her chest brushes against his shoulder but Jungkook being a total gentleman and too busy working, he apologizes softly and gives her more space by scooting a little. You suppress a snort that wants to get out but Yoongi is quicker, his own snort sounding beside you. The only difference is, his reaction isn't aimed at what you just saw but on your very own comment.

"I'd say your boyfriend does an amazing job." he muses, earning a glare from you because obviously, he's doing and saying it just to get on your nerves.

He knows he's not your boyfriend, he even knows he was never one in the first place. You're still not sure how he knows that, it feels like one second he was determined that you and Jungkook are a real thing and the other he already knew the truth. Of course, you realize you've told him when he kept being annoying but still... you can't believe he knows.

"Are you trying to get on my nerves, Min?" you murmur, clearing your throat while staring ahead at the staff preparing the studio for another photoshoot.

"I thought I already got on your nerves." he says innocently, feigning innocence of course. There's no way this man is innocent or is capable of anything like that.

You look at the watch that hugs your wrists, aware of Yoongi's eyes on you knowing he's waiting for your reaction. Surely, you could just ignore him but where's the fun in that?

"Just two more hours." Is all you say, sighing underneath your breath knowing very well he hears you.

Two more hours and then he won't be getting on your nerves. Somehow, you've slowly grown resistant to his remarks and they don't piss you off as much. However, that doesn't mean he doesn't piss you off at all. He does. A lot.

"You're not getting rid of me that easily, grumpy."

Grumpy. Yes, somehow that became your nickname. You do have to admit, you're grumpy whenever Yoongi is around but that's completely not your fault. The person at fault is standing right beside you and calls you that stupid nickname. One thing you learned about Yoongi is, the less you react the more he lets you breathe.

"Two hours and then I'm out." you remind him of your actual working schedule but all he does is smirk in return.

"Hmm, we'll see about that." he hums, causing your brows to pinch in confusion and before you can question him, Sophia, one of your co-workers calls out for him to help her with something.

He grumbles but moves his legs across the room to help her with whatever she starts telling him. Junho calls out for a short break, reminding everyone that it's only a fifteen minute break and then everyone is going back to work.

The models wear their robes quickly, going to one of the dressing rooms to prepare for the next photoshoot while you reach for your already cold tea, slowly sipping on it. You notice Jungkook putting down his camera on the table, beside the laptop and a set of cables before he makes his way towards you.

There's a glint of amusement in his eyes which you recognize immediately. "I don't think I've ever seen you so annoyed like when you're next to that guy." he jokes, sitting on one of the stools in the back of the room as you join him, sitting beside him.

You follow his vision of eyes, noticing he's looking at Yoongi who sports the same frown as he grumbles something under his breath. "He likes to annoy me, that's why. I've to hold myself from punching him in the face, Junho would have me fired if I ever did such a thing." you grumble, causing Jungkook to glance at you as he tries to recognize if you're all serious or partly joking.

In this case you're partly joking. You're not a violent person, even when it comes to annoying a human being such as Yoongi. You wouldn't actually hurt him, but you do imagine punching him sometimes. It eases your mind whenever he has one of his famous remarks.

"Is he treating you badly?" Jungkook asks, frowning while he sends a glare to completely oblivious Yoongi across the room, ready to fight him if you tell on him.

You chuckle, shaking your head. "Calm down, you hero. He's just annoying, that's all. He helped me to find a job at the bar, he's the one whose brother owns it. He is annoying but he's not a bad person. Fuck, I hope no one heard me right now." you mutter, jokingly looking at Jungkook as he snorts.

"Maybe he likes you." Jungkook shrugs after a moment while grinning at you teasingly, eyes glancing back at Yoongi.

You let out an ugly snort, looking around to see if someone heard you. Thank God, no one did, besides Jungkook but he's used to your weird and ugly noises.

"He probably likes you more than me." you state, earning a confused look from Jungkook.

Before another word can be uttered between you two, Junho comes rushing back into the studio, ushering everyone to get back to their places. Jungkook looks at his expensive watch, glancing at you with even bigger confusion than from your previous words.

"Five minutes only passed." he informs you while you almost snicker at the innocence of his features and the soft voice.

It's usual Junho gives everyone a break but shortens it himself when he feels like it. There's no explanation for that, just describing how big of an asshole he truly is.

"Welcome to my world." you chime, standing up from your seat while Jungkook pouts at the short break but follows you nevertheless.

Perhaps Yoongi is annoying co-worker, but Jungkook's presence does bring at least some kind of comfort even though he barely has the time to speak to you. However, whenever there is time he always makes sure to stop by and chat with you, ignoring the heart eyes from the literal young models just so he can talk to you.

Working in a bar has become essential to your daily life. Sure, you're working your ass off to be able to get yourself a better car and you wish your Saturdays and sometimes Sundays would be free, but you can't really complain about the job itself. You were a little worried at first, not knowing what to expect because the thought of you working in a bar full of horny and sweaty people didn't sound that appealing. It still doesn't. But everyone is so nice, Mark has been a huge help and a support, praising your work even in front of Yejun which is always nice since he's the boss.

Sometimes he'd help at the bar, making a small chat with you to question your contentment with the job. He's more around than you thought he'd be, considering he's owning this club and has employees for almost everything. Even just from the two months you're working here, you could notice how much this place means to him. Yeah, it's a club but it doesn't mean it's dirty business or something. According to Mark, his parents weren't too happy with Yejun investing all his money to make this club what it is today. He started from scratch, risking a lot if you must say.

Mark gives you a wave when he sees you entering the club, later than usual which you hope nobody will scold you for, and you quickly wave him back making your way to the dressing room. Good thing is you managed to take a nap before you came here, resulting in you sleeping longer than you were planning. In the middle of your deep slumber, you somehow managed to turn off the alarm that you reliably set on to make sure you don't sleep over. Of course, you did. Only for you to snap your eyes open when you suspiciously slept for a long time.

You nod at the bouncer sitting at a bar, waiting for the opening hours which starts in less than ten minutes before you barge into the dressing room.

For a moment you completely ignore another presence in the room, rushing yourself to get ready as soon as possible but knowing Mark and everyone else seems to be already getting things around the club ready, your eyes snap at the person shutting one of the lockers.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," you gasp, eyes widening at the sight of smirking Yoongi wearing white shirt with club's logo (which everyone who works as a bartender here is wearing) with black jeans and some white sneakers. "What are you doing here?"

You're speechless, not understanding his sudden presence or the fact he's wearing the club's attire.

"I told you you're not gonna get rid of me that easily," he muses, obviously pleased with your reaction because he's that evil. "My brother is away and asked me to help out a bit."

You're slightly caught off guard hearing him explain his reason behind being here, you thought he would care less to give you an explanation. Nodding, you let the door shut behind you with a louder bang as you warily stare at him.

"What?" he barks. You're not surprised by his reaction at this point, expecting it. He's not the only one who gets on your nerves. You can do the same thing.

Opening your locker, you hide your grin behind it as you pull out your working attire. As you shut the locker, you look at him with a raised brow. "Do you mind? I've to change." you tell him sweetly, battling your eyelashes at him as he stares at you with a frown.

He doesn't look too shocked, but you know he's surprised by the sweetness of your voice. He expected you to bark back. Thus, that's why you haven't done it. Just when you think you got him, a pleased smirk about to curve on your lips, you watch his own lips to do the same before you can.

"Ah," he pouts, "You won't give me a show?" He even has the audacity to eye your body, mockingly chuckling at the sweatpants you're wearing.

In your defense, you've worn something comfortable knowing you'll change your clothes in the club anyway. And the sweatpants are nice and like you said, comfortable. Okay, maybe with the black winter jacket you're wearing you may look like you're about to take the trash out, but that's completely irrelevant.

"Get out." you mutter through gritted teeth, seeing him beam you with a pleased smile.

"Gladly." he sings out, waving you off as he leaves you in the dressing room alone.

When the door shut, you shake your head with a snicker escaping past your lips. You've no idea how you'll make it tonight without actually killing him. Being with him during the day is one thing but being with him after it is another.

Surprisingly, when the club opens and everyone starts working, Yoongi minds his own business and is actually doing an amazing job at managing the club and replacing his brother. Even everyone out of your co-workers seems to be thrilled that Yoongi is here.

"Mark, can you grab the kitchen wipes from the back?" Yoongi yells at Mark who's on the other side of the bar with two more barmen.

He looks at Yoongi immediately, nodding while a soft blush spreads on his cheeks. You can notice it even from the distance and in such lightning. He even smiles shyly in Yoongi's way before he scurries away to the storage room.

You're wiping the counter, stealing a glance at Yoongi who's already looking at you with a grin. "What?"

"What was that?" You don't beat around the bush, voicing out your curiosity as you can't help but smirk at remembering Mark's shy face. You've never seen him being so shy and Yoongi is obviously the reason why he reacted that way.

"We hooked up a few times." he shrugs, revealing the information freely to you as you choke up on your spit, eyes widening.

You stop wiping the counter, turning yourself to Yoongi who has an amused grin on his face. "You--you two hooked up?" You'd never guess it.

"Is that so hard to believe?" he asks, pursing his lips in amusement as he takes the wipe that got neglected by you and starts wiping the rest of the counter.

"No, I... I'm just surprised. I'd have never guessed that you and Mark... are you dating?"

You wouldn't admit it out loud, but Yoongi seems like a mystery to you. You know him but you don't. Every little information about him is interesting and that's because you're so damn curious.

"No, I don't date." he chuckles, finishing wiping as he tosses the wipe into the bin.

"Isn't that what people usually say? And then they'll fall in love with someone and change their opinion about dating?" you muse amusingly, hearing him chuckle as he shakes his head.

"I'm not against dating. It's just not my thing but I don't rule it out." he answers, surprising you by the honesty in his voice.

There are times when the two of you are civil and can actually talk to each other without any bickering, or something that would cause the two of you to be irritated with each other.

You nod, sighing as you look at the busy crowd. You don't comment any further, you already got enough of an answer and your mind is preoccupied by the sight in front of you. The dance floor is filled with sweaty bodies and everybody humping each other, which isn't quite an unexpected view but you also don't let your eyes drift elsewhere like usual. You look at the young couple, dancing near the bar, in their own world as they look like they're five seconds from fucking. You can't see the guy's face clearly but you can tell he's well built and obviously knows how to move. The girl he's dancing with is pressed against his chest with her back, grinding her ass into him while he holds her tightly, lips brushing her ear.

You gulp, looking away with red cheeks when you realize you've been staring at them. You've never missed sex that much like you'd go crazy if you haven't had it, but you've already experienced what it feels like to be sexually frustrated. However, there was Jungkook who helped you with that at that time but he's not available to do that anymore. Unfortunately, your hands don't do much and even though the shower head can bring you at least some kind of orgasm, it's nothing mind blowing. Jungkook literally ruined your sexlife because even you are not enough to make yourself feel good.

He has shown you how good you can enjoy yourself and now there are times when you think about all the times he pounded you to the mattress. It's wrong to think this about your best friend, you two are no longer hooking up. You both act like it has never happened in the first place. You're glad you were able to go back to just being best friends who don't fuck each other. It hasn't been weird between you which you're thankful for. None of you do a big deal out of it and you've no idea when this sudden frustration is coming from. Okay, maybe it's not sudden. Jungkook isn't only attractive but brought the best orgasms to you. It would be a sin to forget what you experienced with him in bed (or anywhere else he has taken you).

"Is there someone you like?"

Your thoughts fade away as soon as you hear Yoongi, met with a cocky smirk. Fuck, of course he enjoyed you eyeing the couple.

You look back at the couple before you realize what you're doing, seeing the guy interweaving their fingers as he leads her out of the club. Great, at least someone is getting laid.

"No," you answer, looking at Yoongi who takes a gulp of his water bottle. "Not at all." you murmur, avoiding his grin that he's trying to cover with the bottle while he's drinking.

Ignoring the fact Yoongi has caught you staring at the couple, you hear him chuckle. "You can go home."

You raise your brows in surprise, glancing at the small clock to see you still have half an hour to work. "You sure?" you ask, head tilting towards the crowded dance floor.

It's half past eleven and your shift ends at midnight. One of the things you appreciate about working in this bar and Yejun as a boss, you both agreed you won't be working until closing time which is around two in the morning, if it's not completely necessary. This way you get to earn some money but still get enough sleep.

"Don't make me repeat it," he murmurs and rolls his eyes, before he stares at you with a grin. "Yeah, Tania is supposed to come in a few minutes,"

Tania, one of the other bartenders you still haven't met yet. You remember Yejun and Mark mentioning her once but that's it. She usually comes after midnight and helps around the bar until it's closing time.

As much as you wish to lay in your bed and rest your eardrums that shake from the loud music, you need the money and Saturdays are the only days you can work. You usually keep your Sundays free, considering you've got your job on Monday and even though you need money, you still need a rest too.

Yoongi notices your hesitation, probably knowing the reason behind it. "I won't tell anyone, you'll still get paid as if you stayed until midnight." he says, noticing the way your face lights up but then you look at him with a suspicious frown.

"This won't backfire at me, right?"

He laughs, actually laughs as his shoulders shake while he shakes his head at your absurdity. Well, he can't blame you for being suspicious about him being good and doing you a favor without you even asking for it.

"Believe it or not, I'm not that evil." he says, an amused grin spreads on his lips as you think it through.

Fuck it. You're tired and Yoongi is the boss now (not that you'd tell him that), it'd just boost his ego.

"Okay, thank you." you tell him, seeing him giving you a nod as he waves you before one of the customers is ready to order drinks, stealing his attention.

Freshly showered and wrapped in your soft sheets, you toss around for like a hundredth time causing you to groan in frustration. You've been yawning ever since you laid into bed but can't seem to sleep. Somehow, your mind doesn't let you and thinks it's better for you to stare at the dark ceiling or toss around. No matter how many times you do that, your body doesn't find the comfortable position to fall asleep in and your mind keeps drifting to the time when you didn't have to worry about not getting enough pleasure. Jungkook has always made sure your needs were taken care of. And fuck, it's so wrong for you to think about him or the time you got to spend together (time when he fucked you, so all that left your mouth were moans and hs name). But you can't help it, your mind keeps going back to him and you let the memories replay.

Memories of him touching you, tasting you and stretching you with his thick length. You remember tasting him for the first time, intimidated by his size before it all went away as soon as you tasted him. It was so hard to get him to let out a sound of pleasure, making you think you're not doing that great job at it. But then you let him fuck your throat, him being the first to have the privilege to do that and fuck, was he excited to. Or the time he spanked you and warned you when you forgot to count how many spanks he gave to your already red ass cheeks. You find yourself thinking about him letting his fingers slide into your heat while you were taking a shower, or all the explicit things he used to say to all the time. Jungkook is sex on legs, that much you're certain. He wouldn't even touch you between your thighs to get you aroused and all wet for him. His mouth and words coming out of it were just enough.

Yearning for someone else's touch (or specifically Jungkook's but you'd never admit that, not even to yourself) it's not that hard for you to get the wetness pool between your legs. You shift uncomfortably, wondering if this is the right time to touch yourself when you know your fingers aren't enough. Another idea pops in your head, your teeth nibbling onto your lower lip as you think it through. You said to yourself you'd never do that, not alone because you insisted on not needing that. But the temptation and the wetness uncomfortably spreading over your pajama pants persuades you.

Groaning, you toss away the blanket and turn on your night lamp. Your legs move on their own and you're already getting out of bed, crouching in front of it to pull out the box you've hidden there. You stare at it, remembering when Jungkook handed it to you like it was yesterday.

You remember when Jungkook sneaked it into your travel bag once you've stayed over at his place. You didn't have to wonder what's in the box because how could you forget? His number was quickly speed dialed and you waited for him to pick up, barely letting him to greet you as you bombarded him with questions. He had the audacity to laugh and inform you he cleaned the toy since the last time you've used it, no... since the last time he has used it on you. You grumbled something along the lines he's stupid for thinking you'll use it.

If he could see you right now, crouching on your bedroom floor and opening the box, he'd certainly feel all too smug about being right.

The toy looks just like new, no trace of being used before. You're stupid. What else have you expected? Your cum dried on it? You cringe at your own thoughts, feeling slightly embarrassed as you take it into your hand and press on the button, jumping in shock when the toy comes to life. It keeps vibrating in your hands, the soft buzzing sound making the tip of your ears red. You turn it off, gulping at the sight of it because it's almost too identical to Jungkook's own dick.

"Fuck it," you whisper to yourself, hopping back on bed with the toy in your hand. You shimmy out of your pajamas, glad for the heating being turned on so you're not cold. It'll take a moment for your body to warm itself from the arousal.

Placing the toy beside you, you make yourself comfortable as you start by cupping your breasts. Your hands are small, way smaller than Jungkook's and the touch doesn't do much. Sighing, you don't let it discourage you as you trail your hand between your legs, while the other one pinches your nipple. Your fingers circle your clit, imagining they're not yours but it's not that easy. You're surprised how wet you already are, the months of absence from sex taking its tool on you and even though you're much more sensitive now, it doesn't do much. You retrieve your hands off your body, reaching for the toy. Nobody's got the time for this bullshit when you feel yourself not being that aroused from it. You bring the toy back to life, the buzzing still makes you slightly embarrassed which causes you to chuckle at your absurdity. People do this all the time. Why the fuck are you so weird about this? It's just Jungkook's stupid head and face popping up in your mind and the fact he ordered this for you. Best friend in the world for sure.

You let the toy press against your clit, a shivered breath leaving your mouth as you feel the first vibrations of the sextoy. You press it harder, circling it over the sensitive bud as you hear the wet sounds of your juices meeting the toy. Doing this for a couple of minutes, you quickly grow bored and not as aroused as at the beginning, so you decide to let the tip slide into you. It feels good but not what you expected. You don't give up and start pushing the toy deeper, barely halfway before you pull it away. It's not that bad. You repeat the process, pumping the pink vibrator while it vibrates against your walls.

Surprisingly, you even let out a couple of hushed moans while you try to roll your hips into the toy, but that's it. You try taking more of it or even quickening the pace, nor touching your breasts or clit helps that much. So, you shamefully think about the times Jungkook fucked you so hard he made you see stars. The sound of his body colliding with yours is almost distant, sounds so explicit that used to make you wet even more. Or you remember when the two of you fought and then had sex. He slowed down his usual feral and rushed pace, muttered with his deep and raspy voice how good you feel and how sorry he is. It was slow but intense just as much, full of emotions where you could feel how sorry he is without him even saying it, even though he made sure he said it. You do this for a few more minutes before you come to the conclusion you won't orgasm like this. It doesn't feel better, even worse as you feel yourself not being that aroused or wet. You're not Jungkook and he's not here. Pulling out the toy, you throw it onto bed frustratedly as you let out a groan.

"Fuck," you curse, rubbing your palms over your face. Just as arousal came, it leaves and leaves you disappointed all over again. "Fucking Jeon, what have you done to me?" you mutter, voice muffled by your palms.

He showed you there is possibly no one who could fuck you better. Not even yourself. That's what he has done to you.

Starting your Monday by being back to work and having to make constant phone calls has busied you enough to the point, you don't think about the Saturday failure of trying to make yourself orgasm. Probably your biggest fail this year, if not of your entire life and that speaks volume.

"That's a wrap for today, guys!" Junho claps his hands, showing one of his rare smiles while everyone seems more than revealed by the information. You can't blame them, the very few people from stuff that have decided to work overtime have been here since the early morning. You included, since one of the companies in Japan that holds a fashion show every year has asked for a collaboration with your company, wanting some of the models from the agency.

Junho had been more than eager to jump at the opportunity, nor you can blame him. Some of these people in this very room came all the way from Japan, just to make sure they're present and met everyone which could've been easily done through a video chat like you'd expect them to do. They pleasantly surprised you, proved to be professional and very kind like it's been said about them.

You listen to Junho voicing out his appreciation, which surely is just his tactic to kiss your new business partners' asses, thanking everyone while you're packing your stuff like the rest of the people in the room do, praying he'll shut up soon. You even notice some raised eyebrows coming from your co-workers at Junho's forced politeness and kindness which, to be honest, wants you to let out an amused snicker.

"Be careful everyone, the roads are crazy right now." he says at the end, which makes you look out of the window and notice the snow hasn't eased that much since this morning. It's noticeable even in the darkness of Monday's evening.

Whether his words are honest or not, it's still nice he pointed that out.

As much as you love snow and when it's snowing, you can't find much joy in removing the snow off your car. Once you finally get to your car, you're freezing your ass off while you pray your engine will start working. You haven't had that much problem with it, a few times Yoongi had to come to your rescue while he kept grumbling under his breath but nevertheless, he helped you. It wasn't for free, you're not that heartless to let him help you just like that. You made sure to bring him his Iced Americano a few times, even in December because apparently, he doesn't give a fuck and loves it even in this season. However, Yoongi is already back at home, or wherever he went after his shift ended. To say it this way, if you'll have trouble with the engine again, you would have to ask one of the people that are coming out of the company anyway and pray there'll be someone able to help you, or you'd have to call one of your friends to rescue you.

Luckily, the sound of your engine starting and working is probably one of the nicest things of today and you let out a relieved sigh. Setting up the radio, you put on your playlist called 'chill drive' which you created purposely for reasons when you're driving. You don't forget to turn the heating on, hoping it'll do its job before you can actually make it home, otherwise your ass will really freeze.

You drive out of the parking lot, listening to music while humming the soft and melodic tune as you drive onto the road. You're being careful, driving slower than usual which probably annoys the rest of drivers but you could care less. Other drivers probably don't care about their safety or the safety of others as they speed up through the roads while it keeps snowing, the snow practically pouring from the sky. You keep the speed steady, more comfortable once you make it out of the streets and drive through a long driveway with three lanes.

You're focused, your eyes on the road while you listen to a soft and melodic voice humming in the background. And you've no idea how it happens because one minute you're sure nothing could go wrong but then the car, that's been driving fast and is in front of you, suddenly stops at the red light. Your legs automatically press the brakes but your car weirdly shifts on the snowy road and you make a mistake by taking your leg off the brakes. The issue is that you panic, aware of the state your car has been lately and you feel the steering wheel turning under your fingers. You barely have any control of it, trying to hold it tightly while you press the breaks fast again. In a split second, your car is moving to the side and it spins, the side of your head harshly meeting the window.

And the other second you feel the impact of your head and glass colliding.

#networkbangtan #ksmutclub #ficswithluv #btswritingcafe #bts smut #jungkook x reader #bts angst #bts fluff #bts au #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfic #personasintro

324 notes · View notes

drewsbuzzcut · 8 months

Text

Keeping Up With The Barzals

mat barzal x model!fem!reader

a visceral in doses fic (editorial edition)

warnings: mentions being parents, having insecurities, mentions vibrators, early issues in a relationship, hints at sex, and I think that’s all… let me know if I missed something. ALSO: this takes place in 2027, so they only have Nolan!

Appealing, show stopping, the symbol that love doesn’t have to fizzle out with the pressures of success, or the responsibilities of true adulthood. I get the opportunity to interview the most famous couple to ever grace our social media feed. Y/n and Mat open up about their lives in the limelight.

A very pristine woman who isn’t afraid to change things up and dirty her clothes, that’s Y/n (soon-to-be) Barzal. From dominating the catwalks to being the best mom she can be, Y/n is a layered masterpiece. Y/n will go to the ends of the earth for her family. If that means she’s helping organize charity events for her husband's hockey team, or turning away jobs to be present for her son, she’ll do it. When asked about it, she said it’s a major privilege to be able to turn away jobs for her kid’s sake and to be able to help raise money for the Islanders.

As a model who is this generation’s icon, she’s awfully real. There’s no hiding or pretending when it comes to Y/n. In my opinion, that’s what makes her so inspiring and likable to everyone. However, don’t confuse her privacy for lying. There’s been many instances when Y/n had to keep aspects of her life private to protect those she loves. Times when the audience wasn’t too kind about her choice.

“There was a time when many people thought I was never around Nolan when he was an infant. It seemed that everyone got used to me posting little updates on my Instagram story, so when it stopped people were confused. People thought that I just hired a nanny and was never around my son. It hurt to hear those speculations, especially because they were so far from the truth. Nolan got really sick. He was only 6, almost 7 months and he got really sick. Mat and I had no clue how he contracted his sickness, but it was scary for a little while. I stopped working for that time frame, and I followed Mat, with Nolan of course. Mat had to continue working, but I just couldn’t be without him while our baby was going through what he was going through, so I traveled to each location he traveled to. I of course posted Instagram stories and posts, because not all my days were bad, but I didn’t and wasn’t going to post anything about Nolan until he was 100% better.” Y/n goes into detail about one of those incidents where she went quiet about certain things in her life.

“So many people think it’s so easy to be productive and encouraged all the time. I go from personality to personality with each photo shoot I work on. Not because I’m trying to be fake about who I am, but because sometimes photo shoots require you to step out of the person you are, and it’s not always a bad thing, but lines do get blurry and your mind gets foggy. It’s actually easier to get lost in emptiness, trying to get your feet to touch the ground. I think that’s why I try so hard to be open with my supporters. I’m holding myself accountable all at the same time. Becoming a mother definitely helped me with some of the fog. Becoming a mother made me stronger. I’m always being my best self for my son. I am also always being my best self for my husband. They’re everything to me.” Y/n gives us a little insight on what it’s like to experience the not so glamorous side of a fast paced lifestyle.

Aside from being a mother and a model, Y/n is the person who is determined. No one has to write a story about her, because she’s already writing it herself. I’ve never come face to face with someone with such confidence that’s still so humble. Y/n knows how to cook, knows how to style any piece of clothing, knows how to love herself and others selflessly, and most importantly, she can write. If you’re asking why it’s important that she writes when just about anyone can write, I mean Y/n really knows how to write. I am lucky enough to have received early access to the first draft of her very first manuscript. The words this woman can write are amazing. That’s just putting it lightly. It’s important that Y/n is such a phenomenal writer, because she has the chance to share her wisdom and thoughts. I happen to think her thoughts can change, if not the world, at least one person’s life.

“Don’t make me seem like I’m all work and no play. I can be loose around all my edges.” Y/n states as we near the end of our interview. As I said, she’s continuously writing her own story even when my pen stops. After hearing her out, I’ve come to the conclusion that she is the life of the party that every 20-something year olds wants to be. She blazes a fierce trail of being true to her indulgences. If she’s craving an ounce of music to fill her veins, she’ll gather her best pals and partake in a night of clubbing. If she craves a big, private party, she’ll rent a huge yacht and let her girlfriends go wild. There’s no barrier that will contain Y/n. She breaks any bounds because for her, living life isn’t about being uniform or perfect. Being a mom, a role model, or just someone who is responsible won’t stop her from being who she truly is. That’s not to say that Y/n is a big time party girl, or that she doesn’t care about herself or her surroundings. She does care, she just knows when not to.

Before kids, Mat and Y/n had one word to describe their relationship. “Sex.” They both splutter with laughter when they see the shocked look on my face. They assure me that “sex” isn’t the word they’d use, but I don’t think that sex is a lie to get a reaction out of me. It’s easy to see just how strongly they feel about each other. They’re playful and very teasing with one another. It’s all very sensual, though. You can feel the heat they radiate when their eyes connect with each other.

“Our relationship is chaotic. The type of chaos that makes you run in circles, pulling on your hair. The type of chaos that you search for when life loses meaning. The type of chaos that is unexpected, but welcomed and makes you feel alive. It’s scary, but only because it makes you feel so much. ‘Chaos.’ It causes pain and happiness, but the happiness is always there. The chaos makes us strive to be better. It makes our love timeless.” Y/n and Mat answer the question with a sureness that’s rare.

Speaking of being timeless, the envious pair are set to get hitched at the end of May. You may have noticed that they’re already referring to each other as husband and wife.

If you’re looking for tips on keeping things fresh, continue reading.

“We don’t force sexual activity. We also don’t plan it, we just let our feelings do what they do best. I don’t know if that’s because our connection is too strong, or for whatever reason we are usually in sync. Maybe it’s our constant teasing. We never go a day without teasing each other. It makes our touches, our kisses, more intense.” Mat explains.

“We also kiss a lot. We will never not kiss each other if that’s what we feel we should do. Lately, people have gotten used to hiding their affection, but they shouldn’t hide it. Embrace it, unless it really does make you uncomfortable. It’s actually so funny because I know Mat wasn’t really the type of person to be into PDA, but it changed when we got together.” Y/n chimes in.

“Yeah, that’s true. I never cared for PDA, but like Y/n said, when you feel it, you feel it.”

It’s honestly crazy that these two only have one child. When I told them that, they both laughed. Y/n was the first one to tell me that their baby boy would be their only baby for a while. Mat was unsure of her words, but nonetheless agreed with her.

The baby talk sidetracked our initial conversation of intimacy, but this type of intimacy between the small family is actually beautiful. They both went on and on about the throes and joys of parenthood. They were both surprised at the fact they were having a baby so early on in their relationship, but they told me it genuinely made their bond unbreakable.

Looking at the way their eyes always gravitate back towards the other’s, and their lingering touches that soothe their anxieties, it’s easy to see why they’re so desirable. It’s not about Mat being an attractive athlete, or Y/n being the most beautiful model, it’s the way they portray the feelings of love and passion.

Here’s their last relationship tip: “Don’t focus on finding the perfect person, or being the perfect person. Be yourself. I know it’s cliche, but be yourself. If you find THE one, they’ll always love you for who you are. Your passion and affection will never dim. If you’re feeling lonely, don’t settle for someone who doesn’t deserve you, just buy a vibrator.”

The so-called ladies man who turns into a puddle at the sight of his wife, Mat Barzal isn’t who you think he is.

As an athlete whose privacy is a bit more respected than the average celebrity, we needed to do a deep dive on New York’s finest hockey player.

Rising to early stardom, the young hockey player was perceived way before he got the chance to grow up. Different outlets vaguely recalling Mat as the playboy, or even a wasted talent. They had no clue who they were writing about, that much is clear. Mat is wise, something he says he learned from Y/n, and he’s not some egotistical man, looking for power. Sure, he’s confident in who he is, but that doesn’t make him conceited. He’s actually smart, despite what stigmas have been formed on hockey’s best. He’s not a one track man.

“Hockey has always been a big thing for me. It’s probably one of my biggest accomplishments, winning the cup and just having outstanding numbers, but my accomplishments don’t stop there. I’m proud of the man I’ve become and the father I’ve become. It’s taken a lot to not get crushed under the words and expectations of people on the outside. I still struggle with ignoring the unnecessary noise. Sometimes it seems like no one’s realized that I’ve grown up. To them I’m still a young boy who received too much too fast. I just want to say that I’m not denying that part of me, but that part of me is also stagnant. I’m not a young boy. I’m a man, a man with a wife and son. I know I’m still young in age, but certainly not my actions. Don’t get me wrong I’m not some grandpa. I get out, I drink and I sometimes act wild. I also know when to be responsible because I do have a son and a wife, whose reputation can easily be reflected off my own reputation.”

Mat Barzal is someone to be proud of. He’s also someone who many want to be friends with; I don’t blame them.

“My party days? I don’t know if my party days will ever be over. My wife, who’s younger than me, is a smoke show. I want to take her everywhere, show her off. She’s the love of my life, why wouldn’t I want to, you know. She’s also keeping me young and active. She usually doesn’t like to go to parties alone, so I’ve become accustomed to attending them with her. Plus, my teammates know how to throw a party, too. I love going to those and so does Y/n. Ever since having a son, it’s been a little harder to party. If it’s a get together, we’ll most likely bring Nolan along because we know there will be other kids there. And no, we’re not drinking or driving with our son around, or in general. If we have Nolan with us, I won’t drink, just simply enjoy the vibes and get drunk off my wife and see her enjoy herself. If it’s just Y/n and me, it’s a whole different story. We will get drunk together, but we will make sure we have a safe ride home through our car service.”

An all-around easy going guy with a great sense of humor, and an undying love for his wife and son. Hockey does not define this man.

For someone (Y/n) who’s so public about a lot of things, it really throws people for a loop when they’re out of the conversation about their relationship. I don’t even have to ask them about it, I see it all the time on Twitter. There are always questions about what’s going on, or if they’re even still together. The biggest speculation I’ve seen is that their relationship is all PR.

I honestly don’t understand the need for people to immediately demote a relationship to a PR one. It’s actually offensive, to the couple at least. I'm going to say it once, and once only, Y/n and Mat are not a publicity stunt. I feel that most people know that by now that they have a kid together, but if you didn’t know, now you do.

“We never thought our relationship would be such a big deal to many people, but anytime I’m not wearing islanders gear or pictured with barzy in the span of 1 minute, magazines are popping out new headlines by the minute. ‘Y/n and Mat: The Breakup of the Century,’ ‘Y/n no longer engaged to the hockey heartthrob.’ People live for us to say that our relationship is perfect. It’s not. That’s a fact. We’ve had so many issues in our relationship, not that we’d share all of them, but it’d just make everyone go ballistic if they knew. Something as complicated and beautiful as a relationship shouldn’t be dictated or have an opinion formed by people who know nothing about the couple and their history. Mat and I aren’t perfect; a big portion of our relationship has been built on our issues.”

Just because they’re a powerhouse couple, doesn’t mean they don’t have their insecurities. Talking with the couple, I learned a lot about how they feel like they have to hide their true feelings due to being perceived certain ways.

“A lot of fans expect us to be indestructible, yet they’re usually the ones tearing us down. I hate to admit it, but a lot of our fights have stemmed from actions of those watching us online. It’s not that we necessarily believe what they’re saying, but some of it lingers in the back of our minds. We then start to pull away and not talk about the way we feel. It’s going to surprise people when I say that Y/n and I have gone to couple’s therapy so early on in our relationship. It was a hard time that I wouldn’t change because it showed each other that we were in it no matter what. Thick and thin.”

“People might be bothered about what I’m about to admit, but I don’t really care. In the nicest way possible. Anytime I see someone talking negatively about OUR relationship, I post pictures of us. We can be doing the most mundane tasks, or out and about, I will post it to rub it in their face. Is it immature? Sure, to some. In all honesty, who wouldn’t show off their man if they’re as wonderful as barzy is. Sorry that y’all didn’t get to him first,” Y/n states, walking over to her husband and laying a passionate kiss on his lips. They’re clearly not bothered by the presence of others when indulging in each other.

a/n: This was something different for me to write, but I loved it and I hope y’all do too!!

#mat barzal #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fic #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal blurb #mat barzal smut #mat barzal fluff #mat barzal angst #nhl imagine #nhl fic #new york islanders #visceral in doses

190 notes · View notes

obitohno · 2 years

Text

mission: alpha

loid forger x reader

synopsis ⤸

loid likes yor, really, he does. but there’s just something about you that he can’t resist.

themes ⤸

fem! reader, 18+, bodyguard! reader, forbidden love, mutual pining, angst, make up sex, elevator sex, oral sex, blowjobs, deep-throating, cum swallowing, mirror sex (kinda?), cunnilingus, spitting, fingering, masturbation, making out, first kiss, cheating, emotional cheating, mentions of infidelity/divorce, kissing is cheating idc, yuri makes an appearance

word count ⤸

5.9k (unedited)

a/n ⤸

so, this is my first ever spy x family fic, n originally, it was supposed to be much shorter than this, but i got carried away, n here we are, almost 6k later, oops. i’m treating this fic as an early birthday present to myself bc it’s my birthday in less than three hours, so i really, really hope that you guys will enjoy reading this as much as i did writing it! ♡

reblogs are appreciated ~

two summers have passed since the day you met the loid forger, and initially, upon discovering the disappointing fact that he was a married man, you’d had zero interest in becoming the other woman.

but sometimes, fate has a very funny way of messing with you.

initially, it was simply the determination to crack your way through that tough exterior of his that had drawn you to him, even long after the two of you had completed that very first infiltration mission together. at first, he’d been a challenge to get along with—all short answers, swift departures from conversations, and an endless supply of smiles that had never reached in his eyes.

but, much to your surprise—and even more so, his—it hadn’t actually taken all that long for you to wear him down. quickly, he’d grown accustomed to the sound of your voice chattering away by his side whenever you followed him back to headquarters, despite the fact that you had repeatedly ignored his insistence of not needing a bodyguard, and he would also pointedly pretend that he didn’t hear you mumble a reminder that that was exactly what you had been hired to do.

two years had passed by, and whilst he adjusted to being shadowed wherever he went, you began to adjust to the way that your feelings were slowly morphing into something that definitely breached past the barrier of professional. it hadn’t registered until after you’d first recognised the anxiety-induced ache in your chest during an absolute shit-show of a mission that had had you launching yourself at loid in order to shove him out of the way of an incoming barrage of bullets aimed his way. however, you hadn’t planned for his fingers tightening around your wrist, roughly yanking you with him. bewilderment had had your feet stumbling pathetically, and you’d landed directly on top of him, an airy oof! painfully punched out of your lungs.

he’d looked furious, brows knitted together as his mouth had opened, shouting at you over the sound of something exploding in the far distance. but you hadn’t paid attention to a single word that he’d spat at you. in fact, you’d been so distracted by the movements of his lips that you’d failed to notice that the target had advanced upon you until it was too late.

ultimately, the mission had ended as a success, but not without the expense of a few hundred thousand pounds in damages and a couple of broken ribs. despite your protests, you’d been ordered to take leave until you’d healed. and of course, you had appealed, but ultimately, you’d had no choice but to relent when it had been revealed that it was loid who had actually submitted a request for leave in your stead.

the revelation had boiled your blood, because, really, how fucking dare he?

it’s been two months since, and you’ve now returned to your duties as his bodyguard.

you had thought that with the time off from work, your irritation would have simmered by now. but each time you look at the back of his head full of sun-kissed locks, heat burns at the centre of your chest and spreads until your pulse boils in your eardrums.

loid notices that something is different as soon as you return to watching over him without so much as word uttered toward him. you are civil, nodding in greeting when the two of you meet at headquarters whenever loid is summoned, but when he’s out and about, you’ve now taken to retreating from his side to follow at a few paces behind.

ultimately, he suspects that if he refuses to acknowledge your attitude, it’ll only be a matter of time before you’ll simply get over it.

you do not.

another three weeks pass by, and loid is starting to stress.

his emotions are easily hidden behind a blank slate that is perpetually glued to his annoyingly handsome face, and so, you don’t care to show any signs of returning to chatting his ear off any time soon.

he’d never thought that he’d ever see the day when he’d admit that he misses listening to your voice, sometimes so unbearably loud that it makes him flinch when your shrill laughter drifts down the tunnel of his eardrum.

he also doesn’t know when he’d gotten to the point that he craves after the memory of the heat of you standing far too close for comfort, just to murmur an order into the shell of his ear. or when you used to lean in so that his senses were overwhelmed with the scent of you, you, you.

shit.

he misses you.

it’s an irritating pill to swallow, one that has him blindly searching for you at the gala that he’s required to attend tonight. he’s supposed to be posing as a local museum curator, under the pretences that he’s been sent to take part in the auction that is due to take place later in the evening.

you are supposed to pose as his wife for the evening, but when you had read the mission details aloud, loid had had to pretend that the disgusted crinkling of your nose hadn’t struck a nerve.

you were supposed to meet him almost half an hour ago, but he decides that as much as he wants you by his side—even if it’s just the two of you playing pretend—he’s waited long enough.

he has a job to do, and his work always comes first.

but just as he’s turning away, your voice is calling him from across the lounge, and he doesn’t even have time to feel embarrassed by how his neck snaps towards you so quickly that he actually feels it crick.

and there you are, frame wrapped in a midnight-coloured silk that clings to your form like a second skin, your eyelids painted a similar colour. and if loid squints, he can just make out the shimmer that glows upon the curves of your cheeks, and despite the fact that you look a tad flustered as you click, clack your way across the marbled floor, he thinks that you’re heaven on earth.

you reach his side, already putting on a performance as your arm slides to link with his, your lips moving a mile a minute as you ramble your excuses for being late.

but loid doesn’t care.

you’re here, looking like an absolute gem by his side, and you’re touching him.

god, when was the last time that you’d touched him? he doesn’t even know when he’d come to care for the innocent brush of your hand at his back when you’d steer him through the busier streets of tokyo, or the gentle tap of your finger to his shoulder, just to gain his attention.

well, you certainly have it now.

his mind is racing, gaze gluing itself to every inch of your body, and up close, he can see that you’ve spread that otherworldly shimmer along the length of your collarbones. he imagines the movement of your fingers, and he finds that all he can now think about is tracing your movements with his tongue.

fuck.

no.

what is he thinking?

yor, fuck, think of yor.

yor, his kind, darling wife, who waits for him at home, and cooks him a warm meal everyday. yor, who does his laundry and let’s him use the bath first because he’s had a long day at work. yes, think of lovely, sweet yor.

only, he can’t.

he hasn’t thought about yor for a long time.

he doesn’t know when it had started happening, but being with yor feels nice and simple, and safe, yes, but it’s also boring. and as lovely as yor is, loid has known for a long time that he doesn’t want boring.

he wants you.

you’ve not noticed that he’s blatantly staring at your mouth, already veering off toward the large doors, painted an obnoxious shade of gold, that lead to the ballroom.

only, the two of you never make it that far.

you’re too busy with making it to the ballroom to recognise the sensation of loid’s fingers curling around your wrist, and then he’s tugging at you, strong arm easily snaking its way around your waist to disguise the stumbling of your feet.

having already studied the blueprints of the building, it doesn’t take long for loid to locate one of many exclusive guest rooms that are usually used for private entertainment. he’s already pushing you inside and locking the door shut before you manage to catch enough wit about yourself to ask him just what in the hell does he think he’s doing?

‘this,’ he says lowly, the flat of his palm pressing to your shoulder and shoving you against the door. you startle, taken aback by his manhandling, but then your heart is leaping into the back of your throat when his mouth traces over yours.

your reaction is instant, and what starts as just feeling each other out with every hesitant press of your lips, is soon moulding a fire that burns your insides when he licks his way into your mouth.

it feels like a dream, to have him trap you against the door like this, but when his tongue is busy massaging up the length of yours, your body stills upon the feeling of his left hand pressing to your cheek in order to tilt your head just how he needs you. the metal of his wedding ring is warmed by his body temperature, but on your skin, it’s an ice-cold reminder that you’re treading on forbidden territory.

as far as the door will allow, you lean from his touch, your hands reaching to shove at his chest.

a muffled grunt of surprise is breathed from between his lips, and you can no longer look at his face, eyes drawn to that gleam of gold that makes your stomach twist with guilt.

with nausea.

what have you done?

you think of poor yor, and of how she’d always happily welcomed you into their home with that pretty little smile of hers. the thought of betraying her sickens you, and so your eyes meet loid’s with the intention of telling him that this is a regret that he doesn’t want to make.

except, he’s twisting the wedding band from his finger and shoving it into the inside pocket of his blazer.

‘i don’t love her,’ he tells you, desperation lacing his tone. that may be so, you daren’t hope, but that doesn’t mean that you’re willing to be his mistress either.

‘you’re married to her,’ you reply, voice quiet.

he looks stumped, almost hurt, and he inches closer, his fingers reaching for you once more. when you flinch out of reach, back pressed to the door, he stills, the corners of his mouth pulling downward.

‘i—’

he doesn’t even know what to say. you’re not wrong—it is her that he’s legally bound to, but he’s long realised that it isn’t what he wants anymore.

he exhales a sigh, roughly tugging his fingers through his hair. and then, in a very tiny voice, he admits, ‘i’ve been issued an alpha.’

in his line of work, a mission can be submitted under one of the four official rankings: alpha, beta, gamma and omega. alphas, the highest of all rankings, you know to be very rare. you also know that by him telling you this, he’s breaking just about every rule in his working contract, and you gawk at him as he continues:

‘my marriage isn’t real.’

a pause, and then:

‘what?’

you’re glaring now, eyes narrowing up at him.

‘that isn’t funny—’

‘i’m undercover,’ he rushes to explain, ‘i can’t… i can’t give you details, but… marrying yor was necessary because i needed a reliable story should anyone ask about me.’

your lips part, but you don’t even know how to voice the question that you desperately want to ask.

he seems to understand what you’re asking, and he shakes his head, ‘she doesn’t know, no.’

somehow, that makes you feel even worse. here you were, locking lips with her husband, whilst she sits, waiting for him to come home, completely unaware that her entire marriage is a sham.

‘oh my god.’

loid reaches for you again. ‘listen—’

‘oh my god, loid! what the fuck?!’

you’re horrified. at yourself, for not only kissing a married man, but for also betraying his poor, innocent wife, and especially for even entertaining the hope of him potentially returning your feelings.

you feel sick.

‘that—’ you motion a hand between the two of you, your fingers reaching to brush as your lips that now lack the gloss that you had applied earlier this evening. ‘was that—?’

he looks as if you’ve physically struck him.

wounded, he manages to grit out, ‘i wanted to.’

you scoff. disbelief still stings at your chest and you’re already turning toward the door, hand twisting the lock and tugging at the handle. but before you’re able to make your escape, his hand is slapped flat against the door, slamming it shut once more.

he closes in on you from behind, and all you can feel is the heat of him seeping through the thin material of your silken dress. with your neck bare, his breath fans across your skin, and you inhale deeply, fingers tightening around the door handle until your knuckles lighten.

‘please.’

the word is whispered into the shell of your ear, and you’re unable to mask the shiver that travels up the length of your spine. your pulse quickens, despite the fact that you know that it’s wrong just how much your body craves his touch. still, with one thought of mrs loid forger, your resolve strengthens, and your spines straightens.

you clear your throat, yanking at the handle once more, ‘yor deserves better.’

and then, you’re gone, and with you, you take a piece of loid’s heart.

two days later, you’re reassigned.

at first, the sudden news comes as a shock, but you’re glad for the opportunity to escape the nauseating guilt that churns at your stomach whenever you think about the subject of your very present affections. and after being reprimanded for abandoning the gala just two days before, you eagerly welcome the chance at being able to avoid loid for as long as possible.

however, the relief is short lived.

for when you meet your new assignment, you think that the world must truly have it out for you.

yuri briar is the spitting image of his sister.

when you’re introduced to him, you almost put in a request for another transferral. but when he flashes you a smile that is the exact copy of yor’s, you’re already giving in, returning his grin with a coy one of your own.

working with yuri is nothing like at all like it was with loid. whilst the latter had been all stiff smiles and curt small talk, it is yuri who talks your ears off when the two of you are out on patrol later that day. you welcome the refreshing change, despite the fact that you spend the majority of the conversation trying to steer the subject toward anything that isn’t related yor forger.

much to your chagrin, you’re subjected to almost three hours of the younger briar sibling gushing about his sister, and if not for the huge pay check that you’ll be receiving at the end of the month, you’d probably have told your superior officer that you were quitting.

soon, the weeks are flying by, and you somehow manage to think of loid less and less.

until, one night, you’ve stayed behind to fill in the paperwork that yuri hadn’t had the time to submit, because he’d insisted that he absolutely could not be late to dinner with yor tonight.

‘i owe you,’ he’d promised, and you’d reluctantly given in the doe-eyed look that he’d given you with a chest heaving sigh.

and so, here you are, leaving headquarters almost three hours later than usual.

it’s already dark outside, the streetlights illuminating the pavement an amber glow. you stifle a yawn with the back of your hand, eyes squeezing shut as you do so. because of this, you fail to sense the sudden presence that appears right before you, until it’s too late.

you roughly collide with a bony shoulder, a hand clasping onto your elbow to steady your balance. your eyes fly open to meet a pair of steely blue orbs that are already fixated to your own as you come face to face with the very man that haunts your thoughts.

‘loid.’

his name flies from your mouth before you can stop it, and you’d be blind to not notice the way that his gaze flickers to watch the way your lips form the singular syllable.

you make to put some space between the two of you with a step backwards, but his hand at your elbow holds fast.

‘i’ve been looking for you.’

he blurts the words before you can move away, and you stiffen, bewildered by his open honesty.

‘because?’

his hand slips from your elbow, and you swallow down the disappointment that you feel when he takes a step backward. for a long moment, he stares at you, and his attentions form a frown between your brows.

‘you look well,’ he notes, voice low as his gaze catches on the badge that hangs from around your neck. ‘yuri, huh?’

you offer a polite smile, unsure of what else to say as you murmur, ‘yeah.’

something flashes in those blue eyes that bore into you in a way that makes it seem as if he’s staring straight through you.

there’s a beat, and then he says, ‘yor and i…’

you immediately grimace. you take another step backwards, throwing a thumb over your shoulder, in the opposite direction of which you were originally heading, ‘look, i have to—’

he blurts, ‘we’re getting a divorce.’

the rest of your sentence dies on the tip of your tongue.

you look at him properly.

uncharacteristically, he looks weary, eyes tired and hair a little mussed as if he’s run his fingers through it one too many times. for once, he openly wears a strange mix of both unease and hope that crooks his eyebrows upwards. a niggle of doubt bites at the back of your neck, but when your eyes lower to glance at his left hand, there isn’t a ring in sight. his finger is free of a tan line, and you recognise that he’s probably not worn that band of gold for a long time.

and you are loathe to admit that the sight has your pulse beating just that little bit faster.

‘loid—’

‘can we talk?’ he interrupts, glancing around as if only just remembering that you’re both stood in the middle of the pavement. the street is empty save for the two of you, but you agree that it’s probably better to continue this conversation in private. before your lips part to agree, loid beats you to it, ‘i live nearby—we can talk there.’

he’s already steering you into the opposite direction, and you’re rushing to keep up, breathless by how quickly he’s walking when you ask, ‘you moved out?’

‘yes.’

his answer is short, blunt, and the way he says it reminds you of the time when you’d first been assigned to him. the nostalgia has the corners of your mouth tilting upward, eyelids lowering as you follow him toward his new home.

it really is nearby—just a mere few streets away from your place of work—and you follow him inside the multi-storey apartment complex. he leads you through the reception, and the elevator ride up to the ninth floor is silent, your spine tense with apprehension. you pointedly keep your gaze fixed to the seam where the closed doors meet in the middle. from the corner of your eye, you can see him glancing at you every so often before shifting his stare to the red numbers that are slowly counting upwards.

only, just as the elevator reaches the fourth floor, loid is slamming his palm over the emergency stop button.

there’s a deafening, grating noise as the gears suddenly grind to a halt, and the vibrations actually make your teeth hurt.

when things eventually fall quiet, you turn to gape at him, ‘what the fuck are you—?’

your protests are silenced by his mouth moulding to yours.

his hands are closing over your cheeks, holding you still as he presses his chest yours, your chin tilted up to allow him to meld his tongue to yours. the sudden assault of the scent of him dizzies you, and you’re scrambling to drag in air between your lips with each kiss that he forces you to accept. previously, you would’ve liked to believe that your resolve is far stronger than this, but as soon as he guides you to mirrored wall of the elevator, all rationality is thrown out of the window.

you return his kisses with as much vigour as he’s giving them, your fingers tangling into the silky strands of his hair and tugging a low groan from the centre of his chest. you feel it vibrate against yours, and you answer by licking at the inside of his cheek. at some point, one of his hands travels down to the waistband of your trousers, deft fingers dipping just under the fabric to tug it a little further down your hips.

‘in here?’ you whisper against his lips, to which he answers with a hum, already working to open the clasp and pull the zipper downward.

‘here,’ he confirms, the tips of his middle and index fingers gently brushing over your pulsing clit. ‘i need you now.’

your responding moan is muffled into the crook of his neck, his fingers stroking between your legs as they drag over your slit, gathering the clear slick that has pooled from your fluttering hole, to circle it over the bundle of nerves that continuously throb for him.

‘loid—!’

your breath is hot on his neck, and he’s already aching between his legs, and he can’t quite wrap his head around the fact that this is happening after months and months of him spending many a night, alone with nothing but the palm of his hand to ease the ache of your absence.

he hadn’t ever imagined that he’d miss you as much as he has, that he’d spend weeks breaking all kinds of protocol in order to search the database for your new post just because he’s been so desperate to see you.

he’d broken the news of his intention to file for divorce to yor just a day after the kiss that you’d shared at the gala, and where he’d expected sadness, anger, maybe even a curse word or two, there had been nothing but an understanding smile, a pat on the shoulder and a genuine wish of good luck. the only thing that she’d requested was to keep the house, and loid could give her that, at least.

and now that he finally has you exactly where he wants you, he doesn’t intend to let go.

his fingertip prods at your hole, and he licks a stripe along the length of your neck, suckling a bruise into the crook of your shoulder. you moan for him, voice like honey when his finger glides along your inner walls that flutter and dance, and his cock throbs within the confides of his slacks.

one finger is quickly joined by another, and you stretch around them, your slick cunt eagerly sucking them back inside with each careful thrust. he thumbs at your clit, greedily inhaling the mewl that is panted from between your lips, his tongue exploring your mouth once more.

his clothes are starting to feel constrictive, his skin burning under the layers of the fabric of his three piece suit, and he can feel sweat beginning to gather on his brow. and as if sensing his discomfort, it is your fingers that are now tackling the task of ridding him of his blazer and waistcoat. momentarily, he has to retrieve his fingers from the space between your legs to allow the finely stitched fabrics to drop unceremoniously to the floor. you’re then unbuttoning his dress shirt, and as soon as the fabric openly hangs from his shoulders, your hands reach to slide all over his newly exposed skin.

wherever you touch, goosebumps are coaxed to the surface of his skin, and when you gently flick at one of his nipples with the pad of your finger, he’s unable to hide the moan that escapes him. you grin, watching him through heavily lidded eyes as you drop to your knees to make quick work of unbuckling his belt and shoving his slacks as far down his thighs as you need for them to be out of the way.

his cock bobs before you, the tip swollen pink, his balls filled tight with the promise of being emptied soon. your awe-filled stare quickly morphs into one of unfiltered hunger, and his dick angrily twitches a dribble of precum that you immediately lean in to catch on the flat of your tongue. your clit hammers away, throbbing with need, and your eyes close, mouth stretching wide to accommodate the width of his bulbous tip slipping past your spit-slicked lips.

the moan that bursts from out of his mouth is nothing short of wanton, ocean blue eyes rolling to the back of his head as he braces his weight by stretching an arm to press his palm to the mirror behind you. his groin coils, arousal ebbing its way through his abdomen, and he chokes on his breath when you swallow down as much of his length as your tightening throat will allow. your tongue curls around his girth, and as your head retreats, there’s a suction caused, one that makes his toes curl inside his dress shoes. he breathes your name, eyes peeling open to see that you’re already looking at him through your lashes, cheeks hallowed around his cock and saliva beginning to drool from the corners of your mouth.

fingers trembling, he buries them into the tresses of your hair groaning loudly when your tongue traces over the splatter of nerves that sit just under the head that twitches against the bumpy texture of the roof of your mouth. your hands come to grasp at his hips and you tug, encouraging a sudden forward cant of his hips that has you choking down the remainder of his girth, gagging noisily and messily, spittle landing on the patch of curls that surround the base of him.

‘oh fuck,’ he slurs your name, and you can feel his muscles flexing as his erection retreats until his leaking tip smears over your lips, your tongue darting to lap at his slit, greedily inhaling the heady taste of his essence.

his dick pushes past your lips once more, and his hips dare to gently thrust forward, then drag backwards, repeating the action over and over again until your throat has no choice but to adjust to the stretch of him. the inside of your cheeks are hallow around him, and your hands trace over every inch of naked skin that you can reach. with one of his hands planted onto the mirror, the other brushes over your cheek and he feels his cock starting to twitch with the promise of his impending completion.

you watch his brows pinch together, a pink flush staining his pale cheeks, ocean blues now a shade or two darker than usual. his mouth hangs open as he repeatedly voices his lust-driven arousal with an array of sighs, grunts and moans, each sound encouraging the growing mess that has long soiled your underwear that now sticks to the outline of your pussy. your fingers reach for his balls, heavy in your palm as you roll them, kneading the soft skin with your thumb.

‘hng—ah!—hmph!’

he stifles a sharp moan by clamping his teeth into his bottom lip, and in response, your clit throbs again and again, begging for friction. your thighs press together, and it is when the vibrations of your hum that triggers the onslaught of his seed that squirts down your throat in hot slithers of white. he voices his elation in a garbled mess of your name, balls drawing tight as they empty themselves into your mouth.

you happily swallow down everything that he gives you, eyelids fluttering shut as your lips pepper kisses along his softening length when he finally runs dry. his cock hangs limply, still half hard when you press a kiss to the patch of curls between his legs. chest still heaving for air, he reaches to help you to your feet and just manages to ghost his lips over yours before his hand are on your shoulders, twisting you so that you now face the mirror.

you already guess his intentions before you feel him guide your hands to grip the handrail, his tongue darting out to taste the perspiration that has formed on the back of your neck. with your face this close to the mirror, it’s hard to hide from the blatant arousal that is plastered across your own reflection, pupils blown wide and hot breath puffing a ring of condensation on the glass. behind you, you watch as loid lowers to his knees, his head disappearing from view as his fingers busy themselves with tugging your trousers down your thighs.

he peels away the soiled fabric of your flimsy underwear—the strip of cotton barely able to conceal your plump lips from view.

eagle-like, he ogles at the thick glob of slick that drips from your slit, taking a deep breath to inhale the scent of your excitement.

groaning under his breath, he nudges your knees, encouraging you to spread your legs, and instinctively, your back arches, giving him a first class view of your glistening folds. his prick is already twitching with interest, and from where it rests, safely tucked back into the confides of his briefs, it slowly begins to engorge with freshly pumped blood once more.

the first taste of you has his tastebuds singing.

you taste of liquid platinum, both sweet and tangy on his tongue, and his nostrils are ravenous in the way of which they repeatedly inhale in order to make sure that he never forgets what your excitement smells like, and he relishes in the sound of your voice keening higher and higher each time his teeth graze over the hardened pearl that throbs just for him.

your thighs tremble when his tongue first breaches the hole that his fingers had claimed just a short while earlier, and when he wiggles the muscle inside you, you shriek his name, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. you listen to him suckling and slurping and although embarrassing, it’s also serving to turn you on more, your clit throbbing harder than you’ve ever felt before.

your eyes blink through steadily forming tears, and you peer through the mirror to the space between your legs. from this angle, you aren’t able to see much of his face except for his chin, and the occasional flash of his tongue when he strokes it over your clit, but you are able to watch the rise and fall of his curled hand as he fists his cock to full mast.

it’s hard to focus on both things at once, but the sight of him pleasuring himself is one that makes your stomach knot, your hole clenching around the intrusion of his tongue. the muscle feels like fire inside you, licking and teasing at your fluttering walls until you start to feel the struggle to stay upright.

you don’t know how long you remain impaled on his tongue for, but when he retreats, the stretch has left your hole gaping for him, clenching on nothing but empty air. your lips open to protest the loss of being filled, only to choke on a shocked yelp when a ball of saliva is spat directly onto your dripping folds, two long fingers spreading and guiding the liquid directly into your cunt with one rough thrust.

he sets a pace that matches the rapid rise and fall of his fist, the tip of his cock now an angry shade of red that almost looks painful. you feel his lips at the curve of your asscheek, and he presses several kisses there before he fixates his attentions back to your clit. his teeth aren’t at all gentle as they nip and suck and pinch at your sensitive nub, and aided by the brutal pace of which his fingers are fucking into you, it isn’t long before you feel the familiar telltale sign of your orgasm fast approaching.

you’re sobbing literal tears by the time the coil in your gut snaps, violently wracking its way through your entire body and expelling through your lips with a hoarse wail that rings in your ears. at this exact moment, loid yells from somewhere between your legs, and then you feel a scorching splatter of cum paint the back of your right knee. it rolls down your leg in a sticky mess, one that matches the drip of your juices when loid’s fingers tug free from your cunt with a blush-inducing squelch.

it takes a long time for you to catch your breath, and although his lips are pressing to your behind once more, you can feel the uneven shake of his own breath that fans across your skin.

eventually, he rises to his feet, hands reaching to help you stand upright, and the motion has your slick dribbling a mess all over your inner thighs. your eyes meet his through the mirror, and a beat passes before the tiniest of smiles graces his lips. you can’t help but mirror it, and when he awkwardly clears his throat to offer to help fix your clothes back into place, you allow him to do so, nose scrunching at the sensation of your soiled underwear being tugged up and over your hips, but then smirking when he accidentally traps his finger in the zipper of your trousers.

you return the gesture by dressing him, and just as you’re adjusting the buttons on his waistcoat, he presses at the emergency stop button for a second time tonight. the silence is filled with that horrid grating noise, before the whole cart shakes once, twice, and then it’s continuing its journey up to the ninth floor. you’re currently draping his blazer over his shoulders when he kisses you again, and when your tongue slides along his, you’re able to taste your fading scent on the tip of his tongue. he groans into your mouth, fingers tangling into your hair, the both of you pointedly ignoring the puddle of mess that you’ve left on the floor as he kisses you breathless. but all too soon, you’re interrupted by the bell announcing your arrival with a ding! before the doors slowly part, and the bright glow of the hall light floods inside to illuminate the halo that surrounds the back of loid’s head.

and on the keypad, the number nine flashes red.

#♡ jordy is writing ♡#spy family x reader #spy x family smut #spy x family x reader #sxf smut #sxf x reader #loid x reader #loid x you #loid smut #loid forger x reader #loid forger x you #loid forger smut

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deandoesthingstome · 1 year

Text

Walk with Me - Ch 1

Pairing: FBI Agent!Syverson x OFC, Drug Czar!August Walker x OFC

Chapter Summary: The stakeout, some revelations, a takedown of sorts. We're just meeting everyone here, folks.

Chapter Warnings: Drug use, mention of drug trafficking, mention of blow jobs, light dom/sub behavior, past relationship pining, cheating (-ish?)

Word Count: 3.1K

Masterlist: For full series Summary and Warnings

Spotify Playlist: Usually a song per POV section

Syverson

"He's on the move."

Agent Syverson watched all nine monitors with an intensity felt throughout the surveillance trailer. He had two agents inside the posh Miami nightclub wearing cameras and his tech had hacked into the security feed for views of the bar, near the DJ, and over the entrance to VIP. Through an earpiece, he advised Agent Ramos to shift right while he motioned for Agent Baylen to swap camera views on the top three monitors. Something had caught Syverson's attention and he wanted confirmation before deciding the next moves for his team.

When Ramos had panned far enough onto the dance floor, Syverson called for her to stop and had Baylen zoom in on the screen. Coupled with the cameras from the DJ booth, Syverson had what he needed.

He watched her body move with what seemed like reckless abandon, but if this was who he thought it was, those moves were anything but careless. There was a point and purpose to every swing and wave, every roll of her hips, every toss of her head.

"Sugar?" Syverson wasn't sure how the word slipped out because he was positive he only whispered it to himself in his head. But suddenly, eyes were on him and he felt his ire growing. He did not need this attention or the distraction.

"What was that, sir?" Agent Moore asked.

Did he ignore it? Wave it off? Pretend it never happened? If only one other person had heard it, maybe he could get away with it. But as it stood, all three agents in the trailer were looking at him expectantly.

"Could I get some damn sugar for my damn coffee?" he barked, a little harsher than even he meant it to come out.

"I thought you took your coffee black, sir," Moore spoke.

"Well not tonight, I guess." His stare shut them the rest of the way up and everyone put their focus back on the task at hand, which was all he wanted in the first place.

Now he could watch her in peace.

Her moves told him she was hunting and the poor sap desperate enough to stand next to her was going down. He knew exactly how it would feel, too, because he remembered those nights with her like it was yesterday.

Even so young he had fallen fast and hard. Maybe he was mistaken, but she acted like she couldn’t be without him, too. So he spent any free time he could find between farm chores, football practice, and family responsibilities to hold her close and kiss her as deep as he knew how at the time.

She seduced him right away, but prom was something special and he thought for sure she was the one forever. He never got the chance to tell her how he felt, however, because it had taken him the rest of senior year to figure it out and by then, she was gone, moved away with her family to take care of an ailing relative far enough away that long distance felt like never again.

He called, she wrote, they managed one clandestine meet up on borrowed funds, and then it was his turn to disappear when he enlisted, not knowing what else he wanted to do with his life when sports didn't pan out and farm life lost its appeal.

But he never stopped thinking about her and the way she moved. On the dance floor and later that night in the cool sheets of the bed at the hotel room he sprang for. And now here she was, all these years later, like a cold splash of water to his face.

"Sir?" he heard like a faraway dream in his ear. "Do you want us to take him?"

Suddenly, she wasn't alone. Sure the dance floor was crowded, but until that moment she hadn't been dancing with anyone in particular. When his real mark for the night stepped into view, Agent Syverson almost broke the back of the chair he was leaning on.

August Walker, one of Miami's most notorious drug kingpins, was standing in front of his high school sweetheart and watching her with as much intensity as Syverson was. Only, August Walker could reach out and touch her if he wanted to.

Syverson watched as she danced around Walker, who simply stood stock still on the floor, not giving one single fuck if he was interrupting anyone's flow. And when Walker grasped her arm the next time she moved in front of him, Syverson almost broke.

"Anyone know who this is?"

"It's in the file, sir. This is Francesca Beaumont. We think she's his newest mule."

His throat went dry as Agent Moore finished her statement and he couldn't scramble for the file folder on the table in front of him fast enough. Sure enough, there in the report were the name and the details in black and white. Her photo was stuck behind those of a few other known mules and he cursed himself for missing it. That's not the way he liked to start off when taking the lead on a long running case.

And no wonder the name didn't stick out for him. In school, she went by Frankie. And her last name was Malloy. Had she married somewhere over the years, he wondered to himself.

Fuck.

"Stand down. I know we want this guy, but have any of you actually seen him do anything illegal tonight? Some rule out there about not dancing on a dance floor?"

He watched as cameras panned to follow August Walker who was now leading his Frankie away from the flashing lights of the DJ booth and up the stairs to his secured VIP lounge.

"Someone get me everything we have on her."

August

Francesca wasn’t supposed to be in the club tonight, August knew that for sure. He’d been very clear with her.

In the weeks since he’d activated her, she’d usually taken his direction so well. If she stepped out of line unknowingly, she was always willing to take a note and do whatever he asked of her to change her behavior. She was so pliant. Just like he liked them.

Her first test trip was to Amsterdam. She didn’t question it when he told her had to fly out early, but he’d meet her there. The morning of her flight, he had called to let her know his assistant was dropping off an extra suitcase he needed her to bring. And when she arrived, she didn’t even bat an eye when she discovered he had already left.

At least he assumed she didn’t mind because he didn’t get a scathing voicemail or fuck-off text message and she had apparently followed the directions on the letter left in her suite to a tee. The bag was delivered without a hitch exactly where he’d asked her to drop it and as far as he knew, she’d enjoyed the rest of her weekend, albeit alone. She’d just been so excited to experience a new city, she told him when she got back and he visited her apartment in the very late evening hours, slinking in by the alley entrance and slipping his key in the lock.

That had actually been his first request of her. A key to her apartment, so he could come and go as he pleased. After the few dates he’d taken her on, treating her to lavish meals and luxury car rides, she hadn’t resisted at all. What would he possibly care to take from her place, not the lowliest of studio apartments, but certainly nothing he would normally let himself be caught dead in.

She was something else, though. She had a presence that did not fit her surroundings. She didn’t have the kind of money he did, hell she didn’t even have the kind of money some of his lower employees did, hence her meager living situation. But she glowed with the grace of a celebrity. Someone who deserved so much more than the hand he thought she’d been dealt. If she kept up the good work, he’d reward her. Bring her along in a more official capacity. Give her a larger stipend, move her into a place he wouldn’t mind being seen in. Maybe even replace one of his current regulars with her.

Yeah, he really wanted to replace one of his current regulars with her. If he let himself think too long about it, maybe all of them.

As it stood now, she was on probation with him, whether she knew it or not. The Tokyo trip had also been a success, but she almost blew it for him when she started asking Hideo too many questions over cocktails. Later in the hotel room, he made sure to remind her who was in charge and when she was allowed to speak. She had liked that, too, he could tell.

So her showing up like this just before their trip to Spain in a few days was a surprise. When he caught sight of her, he had Mateo drive Candace home. Candace wouldn’t have known Francesca from a hole in the wall, but since he was going to put his newest carrier in her place once again, he couldn’t have Candace watching.

Once he was sure they were gone, he rose from the plush velvet couch of the roped off VIP lounge area, taking note that the new guy, Will, had stepped into Mateo’s spot without hesitation. It pleased August to know that his employees knew exactly what he wanted and needed, and when.

Usually.

August headed down the steps leading to the dance floor. The music was loud, bordering on obnoxious for him but this is what the club scene called for and here is where he did most of his original business which had led fortuitously to his new business. So he ignored the cacophony and stalked across the floor, not so much pushing the revelers out of his way as willing them to step aside.

When he reached Francesca, he stood still in front of her and let her keep moving in that way that left him no choice but to stiffen. She smirked like she’d won some unspoken competition and twirled again, bouncing to the beat and stepping around him. He didn’t look back, just waited for her to return, because he knew she wasn’t dancing away from him. Not after breaking rank and showing up uninvited like this.

When she finally did appear in front of him again, he grabbed her arm and pulled her quickly into his chest so he could speak directly into her ear. There was no way he was going to shout over the music at her.

“What exactly are you doing here, pet? Get a little lonely?” He pulled back to stare down into her face, pleased to find a small hint of terror. If he couldn’t will his women into submission, what good were they?

He bent again, “Do you want to walk with me somewhere private where you can tell me what this is all about?”

She nodded and he turned to leave the throng, still gripping her arm tightly.

Francesca

I wanted to make sure he hadn't forgotten about me. I knew it was risky, showing up when I'd been specifically warned to stay away until our upcoming trip. But on top of my worry about that trip, I missed him. As much as I hated to admit it.

He awoke such a fire in me. Feelings that had been missing for so long. Lovers had come and gone. But no one ever measured up to my first young lustful love. Not until August.

He made me crazy. Made me second guess everything I knew about myself.

The first night we were together, I was on my hands and knees in front of him faster than I ever thought possible. Most men were careful with me. Handled me with kid gloves, like I would break if the wind blew wrong.

But not August. He'd approached me at this very club, in much the same way he did tonight. Walked straight up to me and waited for an opportunity to speak to me when he was ready, whether I was or not.

I probably would have come right there on the dance floor if he had touched me that night, but he didn't. Not immediately. He just watched me. I could feel his lustful gaze as I circled him on the floor, and I made sure to turn back to him over and over again. Every time I turned away, I'd remember the look I saw in his eyes, and I'd spin right back to him.

He knew, too. Knew the way the hunger in his eyes was affecting me, no matter how hard I tried to resist. I didn't want him thinking he had the kind of control over me I imagined giving him, even from that very first night.

When I finally let myself dance for him and him alone, I saw the self-assured smirk of a man who knew who his conquest was for the night and I closed my eyes like that would keep him from knowing every thought that crept in.

I wanted him, and he was going to have me.

He didn't even touch me as he led me off the dance floor that first night. I followed him gladly, excitement buzzing through me, electrifying my core. He only turned back once to make sure I was following him to his personal lounge on the upper level of the club.

I didn't care if every person in that club knew I was about to get fucked by August Walker.

I was proud of it. There were plenty of girls vying for his attention that night, and I needed to make sure I was who he wanted. But no matter how much I wanted him to take me then and there, he kept me on a hook.

Oh, I tasted him that night for sure. Felt his lips against mine and his tongue as it slipped inside my mouth after he showed me the tip. He was gentleman enough to get permission before he put the ecstasy tab in, so I can't even claim coercion of any sort. I can't claim disappointment either, though I thought he'd let me feel his cock in my pussy that night.

Instead, he kissed me until my head spun, and then he watched me drop to my knees before him. I could see from the bulge in his pants, he was hard, and because I still had yet to figure out the game he was playing that night, I thought pulling his zipper down and releasing his engorged cock was just a preamble to the main event.

But for that night, August only wanted to fuck my mouth and I let him.

The filthy words he called down to me while I slathered my saliva all over his dick only made me wetter, and my mouth watered for him, too. He knew the effect he was having on me, coupled with the drug that coursed through my veins, and I loved every second of it. How could I not?

I worshiped his cock for what felt like hours. Licking up and down his shaft, circling my mouth around his head, stroking his base with my hand and jerking him off into my mouth.

Every time he wove his fingers into my hair, I willed him to pull, begged him through the tears in my eyes to hold me fast and move my head however he wanted to. I almost cried when he let go, but as soon as he was done spooning the coke into each of his nostrils from the tiny vial on the chain around his neck, he put both of his hands right back on my head and pumped his cock deep down my throat, coming with a roar that told me I'd satisfied something he'd been missing for a while. I smiled internally with that knowledge.

The next few weeks had been a whirlwind of seduction, and I was having a hard time differentiating just who was doing the seducing. When he invited me to Amsterdam, I was so excited. I imagined what fucking him in a foreign country would feel like.

But it was like he knew just how to keep me hanging on, giving me just enough of a taste of him before the trip to keep me wanting more. He completely avoided me for the entire trip. Sent word the day before our scheduled departure that he had to leave early and then put me in charge of that extra suitcase. When I arrived, our hotel suite was empty, with not one piece of his belongings left behind for me to hold on to. I never even saw him there. To say I was disappointed would be an understatement.

I kept my wits about me, though. Kept my disappointment to myself. I wasn't about to let him know how much I had ached for him for those days I was alone. And I'd been away from him often enough here in the States. But there was something about missing the opportunity to have his cock deep inside me while watching the light of a sunset in a different sky that had me questioning just how deep I was with this man.

I made sure to keep him close in Tokyo. And there was no way I was giving up an opportunity to fuck August in Japan. I may have offended his business partner, but I really didn't care. I wanted that dinner meeting over and done so I could pour myself over him and take his mind off the women who were serving us.

I knew Hideo had chosen those girls for particular reasons, and I wasn't about to sit idly by and let them whisper and giggle and tease and taunt his attention away from me. They weren't the kind of woman August truly desired anyway; they were mousy and timid, even with their advances.

I knew he was angry with the way I comported myself in front of his associates, but it didn't stop him from letting us both work out our frustrations on one another for the rest of the trip.

So when he told me to stay away for a few days this time, I knew something was up and I was right. I knew her name was Candace, but I still didn't know much about her other than I was worried he was about to hand my seat to Spain over to her, and I couldn't let that happen.

Taglists

And so here I was, being led by a firm grip on a walk to his private office. Exactly where I wanted to be.

Chapter 2

Everything Henry: @sillyrabbit81 @kittenofdoomage @mayloma @kebabgirl67 @fvckinghenrycavill @geralts-yenn @raccoon-eyed-rebel @beck07990 @itsrubberbisquit @feelmyroarrrr @sweetdreamsofgelato @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @dedicated-to-a-brit-and-a-scot @alexakeyloveloki @marantha @aireraume @angelmather1 @enchantedbytomandhenry @omgkatinka @littlefreya @avengersfan25 @lizzystuffsthings

Walk with Me only (I added you if you reblogged or asked and Tumblr would let me): @kingliam2019 @valacircareads @sofiebstar @cardierreh15 @cavilllover @firstcashheroathlete @ylva-syverson

Missing Tags: If you asked and you aren't here, believe me when I say I tried. I still don't know how to fix it when Dumblr won't let me tag someone. You can always turn on notifications or follow #walk with me.

#henry cavill #fbi agent!syverson x ofc #drug czar!august walker x ofc #syverson #syverson au #august walker #august walker au #syverson fanfiction #august walker fanfiction #captain syverson #walk with me #mine #deandoesthingstome

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wilwheaton · 2 years

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Hi Will, I saw your tags about being a functioning alcoholic for years.

As someone who doesn't drink and doesn't really understand the draw of alcohol, what about drinking made it appeal to you? No judgment, I have my own struggles, but what do you think drew you to alcohol? Was it the taste, the social aspects of drinking, the feelings it gave you?

Thanks for the cool posts, love your work!

It's complicated. The shortest version is that I sincerely like the experience of having a cocktail. I like brewing and drinking beer. In moderation, it's not a bad thing. My problem was I couldn't -- I can't -- drink in moderation.

I'm a child abuse and exploitation survivor with narcissistic parents who hurt me so much, I had to end contact with them for my own mental health and quality of life.

For around a decade, starting in my early 30s, I spent most of my time and my energy trying to communicate to them how much pain and trauma I had experienced, hoping that they would accept their role in it, and we could heal together. And for ten years, they refused to acknowledge a single thing that happened to me. My father continued to be my bully, and my mother continued to support him, blaming me for everything he did to me.

I didn't understand why they were so cruel to me. I didn't understand why they treated me like a thing, while they clearly and obviously adored and loved my brother and sister. It hurt so much, at some point made the connection that drinking in excess made the pain disappear for a little bit, with the added benefit of being an act of self harm. I started drinking more and more and more until I was a functioning alcoholic, numbing my pain and pouring the evenings away in search of the bottom of a bottle I could never find, hoping that maybe I'd just fall asleep in it and never wake up.

That wasn't healthy, and it was having a terrible impact on my family. With my wife's help and the support of a couple friends who have many years of sobriety, I was able to make the choice to stop drinking alcohol, and to start intensive therapy to heal the wounds I was hoping to numb. Every day, I make the choice to continue not drinking or hurting myself. As of today, it's been a little over 2300 or so days, taken one day at a time. Today is another one of those days.

Alcoholism isn't a solution to anything, unless you're looking for a guaranteed way to have a shitty, terrible, painful life that ends before it otherwise would.

Last thing: I knew for at least a year that I needed to quit drinking. I didn't know how to do it, because I thought that AA was the only way, and I didn't want to be involved with a group, or have to pretend I believed in some kind of higher power. But a friend of mine, who has like 15 years, told me they didn't do AA. They worked with a therapist and a support network. So that's what I did and it is how I've stayed sober.

I know that AA works for some people, but it isn't the only way, and I wonder if I'm not the only person who didn't know that.

#tw child abuse #tw self harm #alcoholism

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the-badger-mole · 1 year

Text

Hallmarks of the Season: Part 6

"Zuko!" Katara launched herself into her fiancé's arms before she even realized she'd moved. Zuko was taken by surprise, but he recovered enough to pull her into a tight embrace. Katara buried her face in the crook of Zuko's neck and took in a deep breath. She was shaking and a moment later, Zuko realized she was crying.

"What's wrong?" he asked, horrified. "What happened? Are you hurt?" Katara shook her head and wiped her tears away hurriedly. Zuko fished a handkerchief from the pocket of his leather jacket- because of course he had a handkerchief with his casual clothes- and pressed it into Katara's hand.

"I just had an awful day," she told him. Zuko pulled her into a hug again and rubbed her back.

"I'm sorry," he murmured into her hair. "What happened?"

"You didn't call me back," Katara choked out a wet laugh. "It's always a bad day when I don't hear from you." Zuko drew back and searched her face for a sign that she was joking.

"I'm so sorry," he said. "I got done sooner than I thought I would, so I moved my flight up. I was going to tell you, but Haru thought a surprise would be more romantic, and-and its sounded like a good idea at the time..."

"Remind me to have a few words with Haru," Katara laughed again.

"I'm really sorry." Zuko pressed his forehead against Katara's. She shut her eyes and took in a deep breath.

"It's fine," she said. "This was a wonderful surprise. Just...don't go radio silent me? You didn't have to say you were coming, but I tried to call and you weren't responding to my texts."

"Never again," Zuko swore. He leaned in to kiss Katara, but she flinched away. Zuko's brow drew down, confused and hurt. An apology was already on Katara's tongue when the door of the house swung open to reveal Katara's family watching the couple with wide grins.

"Zuko!" Hakoda's deep voiced boomed out into the night. "Great to see you again."

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Zuko was swept into the house in a flurry of laughs, loud welcomes, and jarring hugs. Kanna had arrived sometime while Katara was out, and she needed to be introduced in person. Sesi watched everything from between the banister rails. When Zuko smiled and waved at her, she waved back with a loud giggle and rushed upstairs to her room. Sokka shrugged at Zuko.

"She's pretending to be shy now," he joked. "Give her a couple of hours, and she'll decide you're her new best friend

Sokka, of all people, was the one to remember that they had someplace to be. When he announced that it was almost time to leave, and extended the invitation to Zuko, Katara's heart leapt into her throat.

"Zuko just had a really long flight," Katara reminded her brother. "Maybe we should reschedule."

"No way!" Sokka protested. "Su-I mean, everyone had to rearrange their schedules for tonight. I thought you were all anxious to drag Zuko around to everyone we know."

"I will!" Katara said, folding her arms. "But how about we let Zuko get settled first? He must be tired."

"I'm fine, actually," Zuko cut in. "I got some sleep on the plane. Besides, jetlag is telling my body that's it the middle of the morning still." Katara blanched. Her mind raced for a plausible excuse not to have to go to the bar that night. She had nothing.

"Alright," she relented. "Let me go get changed, then we can go." Katara fled the living room, praying that no one noticed her reluctance.

Katara grabbed fresh clothes and then went into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. She sank to the floor and dragged her hand through her hair. Maybe they would cancel if she said she was sick. Zuko would, she knew. The prospect of staying home and watching movies with Hakoda, Kanna and Sesi would appeal to him. Then she could get through the rest of this visit without seeing Aang again.

Sokka would ask questions, Katara reminded herself. And Zuko would notice her being evasive. Aang might not even show up. Or if he did, he would certainly not try to speak to her with Zuko there. Katara climbed to her feet and turned on the shower as hot as she could stand it. The steam had settled into a thick fog when she finally stepped into the shower, and she relished the the close feeling it gave her. She couldn't see much clearly aside from her own limbs. The water struck her skin almost painfully, but she welcomed it. She hadn't been able to get warm since she'd gotten home.

Katara got out of the shower before Sokka could start complaining about how long she was taking. When she went downstairs, her face still red from scrubbing so hard, she found Kanna and Sokka entertaining Zuko while Sesi helped Hakoda make snacks in the kitchen. The urge to just cancel the evening and stay home intensified. This had been all she'd wanted since Zuko said he'd join her family for the holidays. Sokka, though, was anxious to get going. In spite of herself, Katara was amused. Sokka had put on the best of his casual clothes. He was wearing a deep blue turtleneck sweater that played up his lighter blue eyes and warm brown skin. He was trying very hard to look good, and Katara was certain he wasn't trying to impress Toph or Zuko.

Not that Katara could claim her choice of clothes was completely coincidental. She was wearing a red blouse. Zuko had told her a few times that red was his favorite color on her. The way his eyes lingered on her as she walked down the stairs made her feel justified in her choice.

"You look pretty," Sesi said when she saw Katara.

"Very," Zuko concurred. Katara blushed and bit her lips to keep from grinning like an idiot. Still, Hakoda, Sokka and Kanna exchanged amused glances.

Zuko's reservation at the inn in town wasn't able to be moved up a day. He would be staying at Hakoda's house on the couch.

"I'll have a bigger bed in the guest room the next time you visit," Hakoda promised him apologetically.

"It's fine," Zuko assured him. "I did a lot of traveling volunteer work when I was in college. I've had a lot rougher sleeping arrangements than a comfortable couch in a nice home." Kanna sidled up to Katara and nudged her in her ribs.

"I like him," she whispered to her granddaughter. Katara grinned at Kanna and nodded.

"Me, too."

Sokka drove them to Toph's barcade. The Bind Bandit was only two years old, but it had become a staple among the young adults of the town. That evening the place was packed, but Toph had reserved a private booth for her friends. She was already waiting with Suki when Katara, Sokka and Zuko arrived.

"Hi!" Suki greeted them with a friendly wave. Then she turned to Toph and informed her of the trio's arrival.

"You don't have to give me a running commentary," she told Suki with a sardonic grin. "I can figure stuff out by context."

"Sorry," Suki apologized sheepishly. Toph's grin widened and turned mischievous.

"Oh, you're going to be fun to mess with," she said. "I can tell already."

"She's blind," Katara whispered to Zuko. "And she loves teasing people about it." Zuko nodded, then stepped forward.

"Hi," he greeted the women. "I'm Zuko." Then he stuck his hand out to Toph and waited a beat.

"Did he just put his hand out for me to shake?" Toph asked drily. Zuko, realizing his mistake, immediately shoved his hand into his pocket as the group erupted into laughter. Zuko even managed an embarrassed chuckle.

"Sorry," he said. "Force of habit." Toph grinned wolfishly and turned in Katara and Sokka's direction.

"Yeah," she said. "Tonight is going to be lots of fun." Then Toph clapped her hands and rubbed them together. "Alright, folks. Here's what's going to happen. You're my guest tonight to food, drinks and games are on me. Go bananas!"

"Alright, Toph!" Sokka cheered. "Suki, you have to try the banh mi sliders."

"That sounds good," Suki said. "I was looking a the fried cheese sticks earlier."

"Go up and tell the bar tender what you want," Toph said. "Tell them is for the boss's table."

Sokka and Suki volunteered to put in the orders for everyone and bring back some starter drinks. They were gone before Zuko could volunteer to help Sokka instead. Katara poked him in his side lightly and shook her head. Zuko's face lit up in understanding, and he winked at Katara. She let out a snort of laughter.

"It's so much fun when people have silent conversations around me," Toph drawled sarcastically.

"Sorry, that was rude," Zuko said, sliding into the booth behind Katara.

"I was just letting Zuko in on the little seeds of romance being planted," Katara told Toph.

"Those two?" Toph cocked her head towards the empty seats. "Yeah...I could see it. Suki's super into him."

"She said so?" Katara asked, her eyes widening in excitement.

"Not in words," Toph said. "But it's pretty obvious. She came in asking for his party and she kept casually bringing him up. I like her. Ex-military and she runs a martial arts studio, so you know she's no wimp."

"Sesi loves her, too," Katara said. She leaned into Zuko. "I really hope this works out. Losing Yue was rough on him. He hasn't been out with anyone since."

"Shh!" Toph nudged Katara. "They're coming back." Zuko turned and saw Suki and Sokka coming back carrying pitchers and a tray of shots. He turned back to Toph with a bewildered look on his face.

"How did you-?"

"I have my ways." Toph grinned, fixing her unnervingly sharp, sightless eyes on him. Zuko looked down at Katara, who just shrugged.

"You'll get used to it," she assured him.

Sokka placed two full pitchers, one beer, one soda on the table and stepped back to let Suki set her tray down.

"They're going to bring the food to the table," he said. "In the meantime, I think it's time to toast and get toasted."

"Hey, big brother," Katara reached over and pulled the tray of shots away from Sokka. "Did you forget you're our designated driver tonight?"Sokka's face fell instantly.

"Rookie mistake," Toph clicked her tongue. "You should've taken a cab."

"What if we leave the car here and take a cab home?" Sokka suggested.

"I'm not running a parking garage."

"Come on!" Sokka pleaded. "I never get to do stuff like this anymore." Toph thought for a moment, then a slow smile spread over her face.

"Alright," she agreed at last. "I'll let you leave your car here. Both out of the goodness of my heart, and because Sesi isn't going to understand that you have a hangover." Sokka blanched at that. He looked from the beer to the shots to the soda.

"Maybe..." he cleared his throat nervously. "Maybe I should get us a round of water. Just to stay hydrated." He hurried back to the bar, chased by the sounds of his friends laughing.

"So, Zuko," Toph turned towards him. "I already got the low down on Suki, here. Tell me about you."

"Well..." Zuko glanced around nervously and shrugged. "I'm not really sure where to start."

"Katara said you two met in Ba Sing Se?" Suki offered. "Were you born there?"

"No, actually," Zuko said. "I'm from Caldera. I moved to Ba Sing Se about ten years ago."

"Wait," Toph cut in. "Caldera? You're Zuko Kaji? As in The Kajis? As in the Sozin Inc. Kajis?" Zuko's face flushed a bright red.

"I haven't been associated with Sozin Inc in a long time," he said. "But yes, that's my father's company." Toph shook her head and let out a low whistle.

"I've met your dad," she told him. Zuko raised his brow expectantly. "He sucks." Suki choked on her soda

"Yeah, he does," Zuko snorted. "How do you know him?"

"My parents run a cyber security firm," Toph said. "They have a contract with Sozin."

"Oh!" Recognition dawned on Zuko. "You're a Bei Fong. Small world."

"Microscopic."

"Toph, I told you ages ago that Zuko was from Caldera," Katara reminded her friend. Toph just shrugged.

"I didn't put two and two together," she said. "I've heard about you. You stood up to your dad when he wanted to lay off a bunch of people to pay for a shinny new headquarters, then left the family business to do your own thing and took a lot of the people who'd been laid off with you. I'm impressed. That took guts."

"You did?" Suki asked. "That's really cool."

"Zuko's the most selfless CEO I've ever met," Katara said, beaming at him proudly.

"It wasn't all that," Zuko grumbled, drawing his shoulders up to his ears.

"And he's modest, too," Katara laughed. Zuko leaned in to kiss her, but Katara turned away at the last moment. Sokka returned with the water, distracting everyone. He set the pitcher down and looked around the table in confusion.

"Aang still hasn't shown up?" He checked his watch and frowned. "What's keeping him? Did he say he was going to be late when you stopped by his shop?" Katara could feel her cheeks heat up with consciousness. She shook her head uncertainly.

"Maybe he changed his mind about coming tonight." Sokka shrugged. "Still, you think he'd call or something." Katara made a noncommittal sound and poured a cup of beer.

"Why don't we grab a game or something?" Katara suggested.

"Not that one with the song lyrics," Toph said. "I cannot listen to Sokka's off-key butchering of whatever song he half remembered from the top 40 chart." Suki slid out to let Katara out. Zuko hurried after her. They passed a row of noisy arcade games to the wall of board games in silence.

"We need to pick something that Toph can play," Katara explained. "There are games with braille on them in that corner."

"Are you okay?" Zuko asked suddenly. Katara froze and turned to him with wide eyes.

"What do you mean?" She busied herself looking for a game. Zuko caught her hands and guided her around to face him, but Katara kept her eyes on their intertwined hands. She ran her thumb over his knuckles absently.

"You've been off all evening," he said. "Are you mad at me?" Now Katara met his eyes with a gasp.

"I'm not mad at you," she told him.

"You keep pulling away from me when I try to kiss you," Zuko pointed out. "You only do that when you're upset with me." Katara blinked hard against tears that suddenly sprang to her eyes.

"It's not you," she assured him. "I'm not mad at you. I just...I don't want to talk about it here."

"Did you want to stay home tonight?" Zuko asked. "I can tell everyone the jetlag caught up with me, and we can get out of here." Katara took a deep breath and hugged Zuko tight.

"I'm okay," she said firmly. "I want you to get to know my friends." Zuko hesitated, rubbing circles between Katara's shoulders.

"Alright," he said at last. "But let me know if you change your mind about leaving." Katara smiled into his chest.

"I'm sorry I made you think I'm mad at you," she murmured. "You haven't done anything wrong. You're wonderful."

"That's good to hear." Zuko pulled away and gave Katara one last concerned look over. Then he took her hand and brought it to his lips. Katara allowed him to press a quick kiss to her knuckles. Zuko started to lead the way back to the table, but Katara stopped him.

"We're supposed to be picking games," she said with feigned exasperation. They grabbed a trivia game, a comparison card game, and a block stacking game. This last one Zuko looked at with uncertainty.

"Toph is scary good at this game," Katara told him. "You'll see."

Katara was recounting one particularly epic game night when she and her friends were in high school, where Toph managed to pull the last brick from a row without toppling the precarious stack of blocks above it.

"To this day, no one can figure out how she did it," Katara said as the rounded the corner to the table.

"Hey, look to finally decided to join us," Sokka said, gesturing at the other end of the table. Katara's heart stopped, knowing exactly what was about to happen. Aang popped his head from around the booth and smiled at Katara.

"...hi," Katara said awkwardly. She cleared her throat and glanced around awkwardly and set the games she had been carrying on the table. "Um...Aang, this is Zuko, my fiancé. Zuko, this is Aang..."

"Hi," Zuko greeted him. "Great to meet another friend of Katara's."

"Yeah," Aang laughed. "I mean we were a little more than friends at one point." That statement landed with a thud. Zuko's smile faded a bit and Katara was sure her friends could see that she wanted the ground to swallow her. Thankfully, Toph saved the moment.

"Oh, please," she snorted loudly. "You dated her for two months in high school. That's a very little more than friends." Sokka and Suki laughed a bit too hard at that. Two angry splotches of red colored Aang's cheeks, but he slid out to let Katara into the booth. He started to sit beside her, but Katara grabbed Zuko's hand yanked him in behind her, nearly knocking Aang over in the process.

"Sorry about that," Zuko said in a way that seemed...less than apologetic. An awkward silence settled over the table. This time Suki stepped in to break the tension.

"So, what games did we get?" she asked. "And can we turn them into drinking games?"

"We got the tower game," Katara said, grinning at Sokka and Toph. "How about whoever knocks the tower down takes a shot." Sokka inhaled sharply.

"Slow down!" he said. "My liver can only take so much abuse."

"If we're going to do this, we'll need more than a round of shots," Toph said. She stood up and headed towards the bar. She came back a moment later with a full bottle of soju.

"You're trying to kill me," Sokka groaned.

"I thought you wanted to get toasted," Toph said innocently.

"Toasted," Sokka repeated as he took the blocks out of the box. "Not black out drunk. That's okay, though. I've been playing this game with Sesi for years now. I've gotten a lot better."

"Make sure you eat plenty," Katara said, pushing the plate of banh mi sliders and barbeque wings towards her brother.

"Did you guys order anything without meat?" Aang asked crossly, looking at the greasy meat sandwiches on the table.

"We have fried cheese sticks and onion rings coming," Sokka told him.

"Great..." Aang folded his arms and scowled. "That'll fill me right up."

"Simmer down, Aang," Toph said. "I have a whole vegetarian menu. Go order whatever you want. It's on the house tonight."

"It would have been nice if someone had thought to order something for me," he grumbled, climbing reluctantly to his feet.

"Well, maybe if you had shown up on time, you could have asked," Toph retorted, unsympathetically. "Stop whining and go get your food." Aang snorted irritably and went up to the bar to put in his order.

"What's his deal?" Sokka asked, scrunching up his nose.

"No idea," Toph said. "But if he doesn't snap out of it, I'm going to make him go stand in the corner." That got a laugh from the table.

Aang managed to find a better attitude by the time he returned to the table. He poured himself a shot from the soju bottle when he sat down. Once the game started, he took another shot, and he seemed to even be back to his normal cheerful self. He chattered on about memories from high school, and cracked his friends up with anecdotes from his misadventures over the years before he returned to his hometown. He even made an effort to get to know Suki, and not so subtly talk up Sokka in their conversation. To Katara he said little directly. To Zuko even less. As the evening went on, the slight was becoming more noticeable. Katara did her best to keep Zuko from realizing by keeping him involved in discussions with everyone else and encouraging her friends to ask him questions. Aang would huff and sigh and then turn the conversation in a different direction. At one point, Sokka stood up and announced it was time for another round of drinks.

"Aang, come help me," he said after he'd gotten everyone's orders. Aang agreed after a moments hesitation and slid out of the booth. With them gone, the conversation migrated around to Katara and Zuko's engagement and wedding plans.

"We haven't settled on a date yet," Katara was telling Suki and Toph when Sokka and Aang returned. "I think I'd like a spring wedding, though."

"I don't have a preference," Zuko said with a shrug. "But, I don't really want a long engagement."

"Gran-Gran said the same thing," Katara told him with a wide smile.

"What's the matter Zuko?" Aang asked, addressing Zuko directly for the first time. He reached across the table to grab his drink from the tray. "Afraid she'll change her mind?" Aang gave him an exaggerated wink and nudged him just slightly too hard in the ribs.

"Not at all," Zuko replied gamely. "I just don't want to wait too long to be able to call her my wife." Suki, and to everyone's surprise, Toph cooed at that.

"That's really sweet," Suki said. "I'd love to find someone who feels that way about me, someday." Sokka choked a bit on his drink at that.

"Are you alright?" Katara asked. Sokka was flustered, but he nodded yes and ran a hand through his hair.

"Whiskey just went down the wrong pipe," he said. Katara caught his eye and wriggled her brows at him. Sokka shot her a dirty glare and then pointedly looked away from her, but Katara was not to be deterred.

"You know, Sokka here is great at that dance game," she said.

"Really?" Suki asked, turning to Sokka. "I love that game."

"Oh...?" was Sokka's intelligent reply. "That's cool. A-are you any good at it?" Suki's mouth turned up into a smirk.

"Well, I was three time champ at my barracks," she told him. "I'd say I'm pretty good."

"Impressive..." Sokka cleared his throat and took another swallow of his drink. "Would you be up to a friendly match?" Katara could have cheered for her brother, but she settled for bumping her shoulder against Zuko's in excitement. Suki accepted the challenge and they ran off to the game. They didn't ask for an audience and no one offered to go with them. Katara and Toph joked and laughed a bit over the situation, and made predictions about how long it would be before Sokka and Suki were dating. Katara was going to suggest going over to peek at how the contest was going, when a server rushed up to the table, looking nervous.

"Um...Ms. Bei Fong," the jumpy young man gave a slight bow.

"I'm not working tonight," Toph told him.

"I-I know," the server stammered. "But...there's a situation in the kitchen."

"Whatever it is, you guys can handle it." Toph folded her arms stubbornly. The server shifted nervously on his feet, unsure of what to do.

"Okay," he said at last. "We'll try, but...the fire extinguisher is missing." Toph froze for a beat and then growled in irritation as she dragged herself from her seat at the middle of the circular booth.

"Honestly, what do I even pay a kitchen manager for?" she muttered. The server gave Toph his elbow and guided her back towards the kitchen. Zuko watched her go in alarm.

"Should we start making our way out of here?" he asked.

"Nah," Katara said waving off his concern. "It's probably just a little grease fire. But I do need to go to the bathroom." Zuko started to ask Aang to get up so he could let Katara out, but Katara told them to stay where they were and slid the long way out of the booth. Katara glanced back at the table, uncertain of whether to leave Zuko alone with Aang, but her bladder reminded her that she had a more pressing issue to attend to. She wouldn't be gone long anyway.

Aang was standing outside the bathroom when Katara emerged a few minutes later. She paused when she saw him, but moved aside to let him into the bathroom.

"I...um...came to speak to you, actually," he said. He swayed on his feet, and it was clear that the three shots and his drink had caught up with him. Katara glanced around nervously.

"We can talk at the table," she said.

"Please!" Aang begged. "I need to speak to you alone. It'll just take a moment. I just wanted to talk about...well earlier."

"Aang, honestly, it's fine," Katara fidgeted on her feet. "Just forget it, okay?" She started to walk away when Aang moved to block her.

"I don't want to forget it," he said. "Katara, that kiss was...amazing. I know you felt it, too." Katara's eyes widened in shock.

"I did not," she told him bluntly.

"Of course you did!" Aang insisted. "You kissed me back!"

"No, Aang, I didn't," Katara huffed in irritation. "Let's not discuss this now. You're drunk."

"You did, too!" Aang reached for her shoulders again, but Katara backed away. "I know you're confused now with him here, but you can't deny there was something in that kiss." Katara gaped up at Aang.

"Do you think that because I didn't pull away, I was kissing you back?" she hissed. "I was surprised! You started an argument with me! I had just told you that I love Zuko! How did that seem like the right time to kiss me?" Aang seemed genuinely poleaxed, which only served to further confuse Katara.

"But...earlier at the shop," he said. "You told me that you were upset because he hadn't texted you because he was too busy at work."

"Yes!" Katara shook her head. "Because I missed him! I was worried he wouldn't make it in time. What on earth would make you think I was angry enough to dump him over that?"

"He takes you for granted, Katara!" Aang stepped forward unsteadily, and Katara took a step back. "He's not good for you! Why don't you see that?" Katara glanced around again, but no one was coming down the corridor for the bathroom.

"I think I'm old enough to decide what's good for me," Katara scowled at Aang. "It's real presumptuous of you to think you can come back into my life after a decade and tell me how to live my life. I'm with Zuko. I'm going to marry him. If you're my friend, then act like it. Be happy for me!" Aang balked, and searched Katara's face for...she wasn't sure what. Uncertainty? A sign she was lying? Then after a moment, his face fell.

"So...yesterday in my office?" he asked. "Today, when you said you wanted an excuse to see me? That was nothing? You were just leading me on?"

"No," Katara scoffed and folded her arms. "Yesterday and today was me doing you a favor as a friend. I was just trying to help you with your business because I'm your friend. Me coming to see you was an an excuse to get out of the house. If you read more into it than that, then I'm sorry. That wasn't my intention." Aang shook his head in disbelief. Katara was going to attempt to push past him again, but he was quicker this time. Aang grabbed her arms at the elbows and pulled her forward.

"It wasn't nothing," he insisted, and leaned in to kiss her.

"Aang, stop!" Katara pushed against his chest and turned her head away from him. Then, suddenly, he was off her. Zuko had him pressed against the wall with his forearm braced against his collar bone like a barricade.

"She told you to stop!" he said darkly. Katara scrambled behind Zuko and clutched the hem of his sweater. Aang was startled. He blinked at Zuko owlishly and made a feeble attempt to push the less drunk and much stronger man away. For a moment, Katara thought Zuko was going to hit Aang, and she wasn't sure she would stop him. But the moment passed. Zuko took a deep breath and grabbed shoulder of Aang's shirt, dragging him out of the narrow corridor and back into the bar room. Katara was close on their heels. Sokka and Suki noticed what was happening and rushed over.

"What's going on?" Sokka demanded. He looked from Aang to Zuko to Katara and back, trying to make sense of the situation.

"He's had too much to drink," Zuko said, shaking Aang. "We need to get him a cab and send him home." Sokka turned to Katara, with a questioning look. She turned her gaze the floor and rubbed her elbow.

"He-he tried to kiss me," Katara told him. Several emotions flashed over Sokka's face before he landed on anger. He yanked Aang from Zuko's grip and shook him, which Katara was certain wasn't helping his inebriation one bit.

"Are you serious, dude?" Sokka demanded.

"I was just-" Aang tried to say. "You don't understand, Katara is supposed to be with me." Sokka let go of Aang shirt and pushed him away roughly. Aang staggered back and bumped into Zuko.

"I know where he lives," Sokka said. "I'll get him a cab." Aang resisted as best he could, but Sokka dragged him out of the bar with little trouble. Suki wrapped an arm around Katara's shoulders and guided her back towards the table.

"Are you alright?" she asked. Katara nodded her head and swallowed hard against a lump in her throat.

"No, I'm fine," she said. "He didn't hurt me or anything. He just-" Katara sank into the booth and sighed. Zuko sat beside her and took her hand. Suki looked up at the door with her lips pursed.

"I'm going to go wait with Sokka," she said. "In case something escalates." Katara wanted to tell Suki that Aang wasn't a physical threat, but she found she didn't have the energy. Then she was alone with Zuko.

"Are you okay?" he asked. Katara was going to say she was fine again, but the words wouldn't come. She took a sharp shaky breath before falling into Zuko's arms. In a scene reminiscent of his arrival earlier that evening, she cried into his shirt. Zuko murmured comfortingly and rubbed her back while Katara gathered herself.

"I'm sorry," she said when she could speak again.

"For what?" Zuko asked. "You didn't do anything wrong." Katara shook her head. She knew he was right in her head, but the guilt and shame lingered. She told Zuko what had happened earlier that day. About the first time Aang kissed her. How she hadn't pulled away because she was too surprised. Understanding dawned on Zuko's face.

"And that's why you didn't want to kiss me?" he asked.

"I just felt wrong," she confessed. "It doesn't make any sense, but I felt like kissing you after that would've been...I don't know. A betrayal or something. I know it doesn't make sense-"

"That's...normal," Zuko said. "When someone you trust does something that hurts you, it's normal to want to try to blame yourself. But, Katara, it wasn't your fault. You did something nice for Aang, and he chose to read more into it."

"You're not mad at me?" Katara asked. She curled into his side and rested her head on his shoulder.

"No," Zuko assured her. "Although, I think you shouldn't be alone with Aang anymore. I don't trust him with you." Katara let out a snort of laughter.

"Not a problem."

"Crisis averted," Toph announced as she walked up to the table. "I had to go over how to handle a grease fire to my crack team of kitchen experts." Toph felt her way to her seat. "So! What did I miss?"

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

The evening ended shortly after Sokka and Suki came back from putting Aang in a cab. Sokka was still fuming. After she had been filled in on what happened, Toph was equally as angry. She had the rest of the food they hadn't eaten packed up in to-go boxes and pressed them on Katara.

"You're always feeding people when they're in crisis," she said when Katara tried to refuse. "Let me return the favor."

Hakoda and Sesi were already asleep when Sokka, Katara and Zuko returned home. The couch had already been made up for Zuko, to everyone's relief. Sokka went up to check on Sesi, and then went to bed himself. Katara and Zuko lingered in the living room.

"I'm sorry this evening was such a mess," she said.

"I was having a great time, before that Aang guy went and ruined it." Zuko reached out and ran his fingers through the ends of Katara's hair. "I like most of your friends. I'm glad I got a chance to meet Toph and Suki." Zuko paused thoughtfully and rocked on his heels. "I was thinking... this town is pretty cool- well, what I've seen of it. Maybe we could have the wedding here?" Katara was stunned for a moment. Then she smiled.

"I think that's the best idea I've heard." She said good night and headed for the stairs. Then the paused and turned back.

"Forget something?" Zuko asked.

"Yeah," Katara nodded. She stood on her toes and kissed Zuko. "I love you."

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Thanks to a combination of the night's early end and Sokka's diligence in keeping everyone hydrated, no one woke up with an insurmountable hangover. That was fortunate because, as Toph predicted, Sesi had no concept of hangovers and was up bright and early, and ready for her day with her Auntie Tara. Katara shrugged at Zuko helplessly as Sesi prattled on excitedly about all the fun things she and her aunt were going to do that day.

"I didn't know you'd be here," Katara told him. "And I did promise Sesi."

"You can come with us, Uncle Zuko!" Sesi suggested. Zuko preened at his official title, and he seemed to be ready to take her up on her offer, but Hakoda clasped his shoulder.

"Actually," he cut in, "I think this is the perfect chance for you and I to get to know each other better. It's a father-son tradition to crack open a couple of beers and watch the game. What do you say, Zuko? Want to join Sokka and I?"

"I-I'd love to," Zuko seemed genuinely moved.

The doorbell rang as the family was making final arrangements. Sokka got to it first and was greeted by a large platter of baked goods. He looked up from the tray to the owner, and his face lit up.

"Suki!"

"Hi," Suki smiled uncertainly. "I wasn't sure if anyone would be up for company, but I wanted to see if Katara was okay. I brought some sweets."

"That's never unwelcomed," Sokka said. "It's cold, though. Why don't you come in?' Suki shook her head.

"I have a class in an hour," she explained. "I have to go set up. I just wanted to check in."

"Oh," Sokka tried to keep the disappointment from bleeding into his voice. "Well, thank you!" Suki nodded and started to turn away, but then she paused, and turned back to Sokka.

"We never decided a winner last night," she said. "How about a rematch?" Sokka straightened up and puffed his chest with a cocky grin.

"Name the day," he said.

"How about Thursday?" Suki suggested.

"You're on!"

"And maybe after I win," Suki continued. "We can have dinner?" Sokka almost fell over in surprise.

"Yeah!" he agreed quickly. "Winner treats?" Suki raised brow at that.

"Isn't it usually the loser who treats?" she asked.

"Yeah," Sokka shrugged, "but I don't plan to lose." Suki laughed and waved goodbye to him.

"I'll call you."

Sokka went inside and found his family watching him with interest in the foyer. Hakoda was grinning, Zuko gave him a thumbs up, and Katara just looked smug.

"Daddy?" Sesi tugged on Sokka's shirt. "Were you flirting with Sifu Suki?"

the end

One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six

#atla #zutara #sukka #hallmarks of the season #anti aang #anti kataang #tw assalt #tw sa #nothing graphic but it might be enough to make some people uncomfortable

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effervescentdragon · 10 months

Note

KISS PROMPTS!!!!!!!

I forgot the numbers but.

…..without a motive + sico

37) ...without a motive.

It's probably weird to be able to categorise every kiss Nico has shared with Sebastian, but Nico doesn't really care about being weird that much. It's all in his head anyway, and he won't make the mistake of admitting any of it out loud.

When Sebastian needs sex, he kisses wildly, like he can't contain the passion and the need to his body, like it has to come out somewhere. When he's needy, he is beautiful and a little pathetic. It doesn't take away from the appeal to Nico at all, because it always feels good to be needed.

When he's drunk, he kisses even more sloppily than usual. He likes to bite when he's sober, but when he's drunk, he likes to be bitten. Nico is hapoy to obey, especially if he can leave hickeys that will be noticable the next couple of days. It always sours Mark's expression and makes Jenson stutter. Lewis always notices, but he pretends he doesn't. Michael always used to laugh.

When Sebastian is angry, he doesn't want to kiss. It makes Nico laugh every time, and he enjoys not letting them cross the line into nakedness until Seb finally relents. Then he is placid, the rage bubbling under his skin, trembling on his lips. Nico enjoys those moments immensely.

They're on a yacht this time and the sea is calm. Sebastian is... calmer than he was two days ago, on Sunday after the race. He is calmer than he was yesterday, too, when he texted Nico with two words: Yacht tomorrow?

Sebastian rarely asks for things these days, not after signing with Ferrari. Nico thinks he doesn't dare ask for much more, since he got what he always wanted. The lyrics from Lewis' girlfriend's song come to mind often when Nico thinks of Seb and Ferrari. Be careful what you wish for 'cause you just might get it, indeed. It feels fitting.

So Nico indulged him, and now they're here, just the two of them. He doesn't know why, not really. Maybe because something is changing in the air very obviously, for all of them, and it doesn't feel good. It doesn't feel bad, either, but Nico isn't sure what it really is. He hates not knowing. Not knowing means he can't plan for it. Maybe today will give him more information.

Sebastian is pale, the German heritage obvious in his complexion. His hair is almost golden in the sun, but not as light as it was before, his hair like a crown that darkened with age. There is a light horizontal line on his left ring finger. Nico twists his own ring around with his thumb as he watches Seb sprawling over the couch across from Nico. His head is tilted back and his eyes are closed behind those ugly reflective glasses, just like Michael used to wear. He looks... tragic somehow, Nico thinks. He also looks tired.

They haven't fucked yet today. They don't always fuck. Sometimes they don't even touch. Sometimes they just sit and talk, both shit and serious, depending on the mood. Sometimes they get high and laugh. Sometimes they are almost friends. Sometimes. Almost. It's okay; neither of them wants anything more. Neither of them is able to give anything more. Neither of them wants to.

A seagull caws somewhere, and it pulls Sebastian from wherever he was in his mind. He shifts on the couch, rubs at his eyes under the sunglasses slowly and then removes them. His eyes are almost the colour of the sky that frames him. Nico can't read his expression and it unnerves him suddenly. He can usually guess what's behind Seb's wide smile, since he never learned to hide himself completely. Must be the earnestness of his upbringing in Bumfuck Nowhere, Germany, in his big happy middle-class family. That sort of thing leaves traces that no amount of money and success and celebrity status can erase.

He can't read the small smile on Seb's face when he pushes himself off the couch and crosses the deck to Nico. Nico spreads his legs instinctively because he thinks Seb may drop to his knees. He does that sometimes, when he needs to stop thinking, but he doesn't do it now. Instead, he climbs into Nico's lap. His ass, bony as it is, digs into Nico's thighs. His sunglasses are still on top of his head when he leans in and kisses Nico.

It feels... different. Nico is bewildered, because he can't read this kiss. It's not too forceful, or too gentle. It's not thrumming with desire, or with anger. It's not anything. It just is.

Nico freezes for a moment, but Seb isn't deterred. He keeps kissing Nico, his palm tilting Nico's head a bit so the angle is better. He's half-hard against Nico's stomach, but nothing feels urgent. It's infuriating. It's weird. It's nice.

When Nico reaches for Seb's hair, his ring clips the sunglasses on Seb's head. They fall off, and Seb shuffles a bit, and Nico's other hand goes to the small of his back, naked and warm above his swim trunks.

Nico kisses back.

#idk what this is im nervous abt travelling and this wouldnt leave me alone #kiss prompts #sico #the german twincest #f1 rpf #effervescentdragonwrites #my writing #cheating #hope you like it #c tag <3

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garbagevanfleet · 2 years

Text

Pink Lemonade (series)

PART FOUR

Pairing: Sam x female!reader

Word Count: 8k words

Summary: Being a counselor at your childhood summer camp had been your dream since you were little and you had a specific vision of how it would go when it finally happened. You had not, however, planned to make an immediate enemy.

WARNINGS (this chapter): alcohol consumption, tobacco use

Special thanks to @gardenvanfleet for being the very best editor and friend

Special Playlist here (highly recommended as it fits the vibe immaculately)

The day that the kids left was bittersweet. You had been worried you’d cry, but you were able to hold it together as you got the kids reunited with their family members. Then, all you had to think about was how you’d spend your few days off. You could drive home, but it was a bit of a hike at roughly two and a half hours (one way), so you decided you’d save that trip for mid-summer.

Dinner that night was quiet without the kids. Even though you’d experienced a couple of meals there before the kids had first arrived, you’d gotten so used to (and fond of) the chaos, that sitting in a relatively calm dining hall felt a little off.

You waited for Josh at the table that had kind of slipped into the status of “yours”, but after a few minutes went by, you decided that the idea of eating cold french fries wasn’t as appealing. You’d picked the side of the table that put you facing the doors, so you, unfortunately, met Sam’s eyes the second he walked in, Josh at his side.

Because the room was so disturbingly quiet, you were easily able to overhear the snide comment Sam made to him over the sound of other counselors’ conversations melting together.

“Rude of you to keep your girlfriend waiting.” He gestured vaguely toward you, and the smirk he was wearing as he did so had you flushing pink. Simply because you knew pretending to not have heard him was the least embarrassing route, you reached for the cup of lemonade in front of you and buried your face in it.

Josh seemed genuinely confused until he followed Sam’s eyes, and then he shot his brother a glare. You’d never seen that expression on his face before, but to his credit, it was rather cold and sharp despite how soft of a guy he was.

“Grow up, Sam,” he bit back, expressing a feeling of exhaustion for his brother’s behavior rather than one of genuine anger. You were left to wonder how many times he’d had to put him in his place growing up - what that would even look like.

As they went through the line, you heard them talking about their campers, and Josh - bless his heart - made sure to remind Sam of his responsibility to clean the cabin, which was met with a deep eye roll, you’re sure. In your opinion, Sam was the last person you could think of that would deserve such a soft, guiding hand.

You’d love to see him get smacked. Not hard but hard enough.

After they’d gotten their meal in order, Sam started to head for the front doors, but Josh grabbed for his shoulder, nearly losing the balance of his tray in the process.

“You can’t keep eating meals in your cabin. Why don’t you try to make some friends?” he suggested, barely managing to keep a kind tone to match the faux-patient expression painted across his face.

“For what?” Sam scoffed, though something about the interaction told you that he thrived under the negative attention.

Seeing them stand next to each other was uncanny. Sam had a few good inches on him, but he still wilted defensively as Josh’s posture hardened and he took a step closer. He kept it hushed enough that you couldn’t quite make out what he was saying, but their body language made it clear that Sam was receiving a stern lecture.

Suddenly concerned you’d be caught spectating, you fixed your gaze on your plate while still absorbing what you could from your peripheral. You’d thought Sam would storm out, but instead, you just heard him give an inconvenienced sigh, and then you snuck a peek just in time to see him nod before turning on his heel and continuing on his way for the doors.

You were trying to look inconspicuous by popping a section of a mandarin orange past your lips as Josh settled in across from you, but you were positive you fell short by a mile by the way he gave you an apologetic smile.

“Sorry if you had to hear any of that,” he quickly offered, slumping forward into his elbows.

Instead of prodding into that dramatic scene like you were going to, you abandoned the idea to instead ask, “Are you alright?”

He nodded convincingly, looking grateful for your interest in his well-being as he replied, “Yeah. I’m missing my kids already.” After a brief pause, a solemn look reached his brown eyes as he absently ran his fingers through his curls. “A lot of them were crying leaving today and I’m just too soft for that shit.”

Because you were unsure how to portray your sympathy, all you could really offer in consolation was an apologetic look.

“I shouldn’t be taking it out on anyone though.” After a second, Josh glanced over his shoulder with a remorseful little frown playing on his lips, making the subject of his statement obvious despite the fact that Sam was already long gone.

You hummed noncommittally, and when he turned back around he shook his head and huffed a laugh at your weak attempt at disguising your opinion on the contrary.

After a second, you shrugged and stated, “I mean...I’m surprised you don’t snap at him more, to be honest.”

He picked up one of his french fries, and just before popping it into his mouth, he smiled and nonchalantly explained, “I’m just not that kind of guy.”

“Well, then you’re a better man than I.” You sipped out of your cup and then chanced to ask, “Is he like this at home too?”

As if he were trying to remember, Josh’s eyes flitted around as he pondered the answer. “No. Well, at least, not as bad as he is with you.” After you gave him a look that prompted him to follow that thought, he continued. “He’s a really interesting kid actually. He’s smart - like, smarter than anyone else in our family. Maybe with an exception for our sister, but she’s just confusingly street smart.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the playfully puzzled timbre that he employed.

“I know he had big plans for this summer, and I really think he’s more upset with himself for getting himself into this situation in the first place. And, frankly, I think he’s using rage as a tool to deflect and dissociate - to distance himself from the deeper issue, you know?”

Without letting your impressed state come off as condescending, you raised your eyebrows at him and admitted, “That’s very insightful of you.”

He shot you a cheeky smile and then, after a beat of comfortable silence, you worked up the courage to sheepishly ask, “What did you say to him?”

Josh glanced up at you and asked, “Just a few minutes ago?” After you nodded at him in confirmation, he smiled to himself and fixed his eyes on his plate for a moment before looking back up at you again. “Well, whatever it was, I think it got my point across.”

You wanted to press him further - you were pretty sure he’d tell you given enough badgering, but you decided against it. Rolling your eyes in the most annoyed fashion you could muster forth, you closed the subject with a simple, “Here’s hoping.”

❀❀❀

You spent the rest of the evening playing a card game with Josh and his co-counselor, Ashley, in the boys’ Maple cabin. Unsurprisingly, Josh had spent his free time that day cleaning it, so by the time you showed up, it was spick and span.

In preparation, Josh had walked all the way back to the rec hall to pop a bag of post-dinner popcorn, and the room smelled like butter mixed with the Strawberries And Cream candle Ashley had thoughtfully brought from her room.

It hadn’t occurred to you until Josh was walking you back to your cabin around midnight that you’d be spending the night alone. Normally, that would be a nice treat, since you still lived with your parents back home, but after having fallen asleep to the hushed giggling of your campers for the past two weeks, the idea of being all alone in an unfamiliar room was suddenly a little off-putting.

Like he could sense your hesitation, Josh paused with you when you stalled in front of the path up to your cabin.

“What’s wrong?”

It was embarrassing, and you could feel your cheeks flushing as you tried to figure out the least humiliating way to say it. “I just realized how weird sleeping tonight will be.”

He gave you a sympathetic smile and nodded in understanding. “I don’t really like it either, which is why Ashley and I are having a sleepover in my cabin in the camper beds. You wanna join us? The best part is that we can all have a top bunk.”

You snorted a laugh at the incredibly charming but absurd proposition, so he enthusiastically stated, “It’ll be like we’re the ones at camp! We could tell ghost stories, and I think Ashley mentioned that she brought pore masks - whatever the hell that is.”

Since you still had your nose scrunched up in an unsure expression, he teasingly added, “I mean, it’s either that or see if Sam would have you.”

The accusing look you shot in his direction was venomous enough that he held his hands up in defense of his grinning face. Still, you couldn’t really argue, because he was right - you were left with limited options.

He patiently waited for you to pack your pajamas and toothbrush away into your backpack, and on the way back down the trail, you cleared your throat to speak again. “Thank you for walking my ass all over camp.”

Josh hummed, and despite your sincere gratitude, a smug little smile found his lips. “Having a good rapport with your co-counselor really pays off. You should try it.”

Dubiously, you replied, “You don’t think I’ve tried? I’m clearly not the problem.”

He nodded in allowance and fondly assured, “I know you’re not, but there’s gotta be times when he’s not quite as cold with you, right?”

After chewing it over, you shrugged as best you could with your backpack around your shoulders. “I guess. There was one time where he actually joked with me - no hostility or anything.”

Your admittance had Josh’s smile stretching a little further. “That doesn’t seem like something I’d do with someone I hated.”

The notion made your stomach twist, so you sidestepped his statement in favor of, “I don’t think I believe that you could hate anyone.”

“That’s not true,” he objected, but it took him a second to conjure forth an example. “I hate people that litter.”

“Valid,” you giggled. “Pure trash.”

❀❀❀

You’d been concerned that you’d have trouble falling asleep in the Maple cabin, but you woke up to Josh gently grabbing your shoulder. You peered over the edge of the bunk to find that he was standing on the bed frame to be able to reach you.

He breathed a laugh, presumably at how disoriented you were as you surveyed your unfamiliar surroundings.

“Morning. Ash and I are headed to breakfast,” he informed you. “Actually, she already headed that way. You gonna join us?”

You sat up and fought your protesting muscles as you stretched. There was a kink in your upper shoulder that you prodded at as you informed no one in particular, “Okay, I won’t be sleeping in a bunk anymore.”

He hummed in amusement and then hopped off the side to pad towards his room in the back of the cabin. “Yeah, somehow I woke up in my own bed, so I’m guessing sleeping Josh is in agreement with you.”

With an accusatory glare aimed in his direction, you climbed down to the creaky wooden floor, but you could hold no contempt for him. “Shit, I forgot to grab a fresh set of clothes for this morning.”

“You want me to walk you back to your cabin so you can change before we eat?” he offered, firmly cementing your previous thought about him as he dusted the wrinkles off the fresh shirt he’d changed into in his absence.

“No, no, that’s okay. That’s like a twenty-minute walk. I’ll probably take a long shower after I clean up my cabin today.” As you talked, you made your way to the little bathroom to brush your teeth, and when you came out to retrieve your clothes from the day before, he asked, “Do you want me to help?”

“Help me clean?” you laughed. “Josh, you don’t have to clean my cabin with me. You already cleaned yours, and I’m positive you helped clean Ashley’s too.”

The fondness behind your chiding tone made him smirk at you. Instead of confirming your accusation, he leaned back against the post of the bunk closest to the door, propping himself up with his foot as you disappeared around the corner to change.

Since the space was so compact, you were sure he could still hear you perfectly when you added, “What I’d like is some enthusiastic assistance from my own partner so you don’t feel the need to offer to help clean a third cabin.”

“I really don’t mind,” he assured, wearing a smile that you could hear from the other room. “It would not be my recommendation to wait for Sam to offer his labor in any way that’s not expressly required of him.”

Once you met him back in the main room and headed for the door, you assured him, “Don’t you worry about that - I’m not quite that stupid.”

The cafeteria was sparsely populated at best, which, if you had to guess, was a result of oversleeping on the part of most of the other counselors. Since you could do just about anything on your free weekends, you imagined a lot of your colleagues were sporting impressive hangovers, despite the fact that the counselor guide stated that alcohol on the grounds was frowned upon and strictly forbidden while campers were present on the grounds.

“Sheesh, everyone’s looking a little rough today,” you jested, gently nudging your elbow into Josh’s side as he ushered you into the line ahead of him.

“Don’t laugh,” he suggested in a smug timbre. “That’ll be you tomorrow morning.”

Throwing a glance at him over your shoulder, you hoped he could see your quirked eyebrow as you challenged, “And why would that be?”

“Because every Saturday that the kids are gone, we go absolutely bananas.”

You physically couldn’t stop yourself from barking a laugh, and you didn’t even have to turn to gauge his expression - you could practically feel how proud he was to have gotten the reaction he was aiming for.

“Josh. Say the word fuck,” you requested, making him snicker behind you. He reached past you and grabbed an apple from a neat pyramid of them to deliver to his tray.

“No,” he quipped in childish defiance.

It didn’t take the two of you terribly long to make it to the end of the line, and you continued to jest with him until you turned to find a seat. Not a single word needed to be spoken once your eyes landed on Sam, sitting by himself in the corner of the room; you knew instantly that Josh was going to make his way over there.

“Nice of you to join us this morning, Samuel,” he greeted in his usual chipper cadence, but Sam barely acknowledged him other than to give an indifferent hum. There was a book taking up the space on the table in front of him where his food should have been, and his brown eyes didn’t stop thoughtfully scanning over the pages until Josh settled into the seat across from him. Sam was shockingly quick to swallow the reality that the two of you weren’t going to just disappear, no matter how deeply he (and also you) wanted it; he closed the cover of his book with an equally surprising lack of hostility in the action.

“Are you not having breakfast?” you asked, simply to keep the conversation going. His eyes were watching your hands as you absently situated your silverware, only flicking up to meet yours once he was good and ready.

“No,” he replied simply, and you thought he’d leave it there, but he took you off guard a third time by finishing with, “I had a Pop-tart in bed.”

Before you could think to stop yourself, you blurted out, “What flavor?”

He raised one of his eyebrows at you but obliged. If you tried really hard, you could almost pretend that there was a smile hidden behind the intentional tight line that his lips were set into as he informed you, “Cherry.”

You had never had such a casual conversation with him; it felt like uncharted territory, so you practiced a liberal amount of caution as you nodded. “Solid choice. Easily the best kind, in my opinion.”

“My favorite were the Strawberry Milkshake ones, but they got discontinued,” Josh chimed in as he worked to stab the tines of his fork through a green grape with a charming amount of difficulty. “So, tragically, I settle for Wild Berry.”

“They still make those. I saw them at the grocery store a couple of months ago, and I remember because I thought about how gross they looked,” you informed him fondly.

He set his fork down completely so he could fully turn his head and look at you, eyes narrowed. “I’m happy to hear that they’re back, but the Strawberry Milkshake Pop-tarts slander has to end.”

“No, she’s right because you’re supposed to put them in the toaster and who the fuck wants a hot milkshake?” Sam quipped, somehow maintaining a faint sneer despite how shallow the content of the conversation was. “The Cinnamon Roll ones you like are gross too.”

Josh shot a look in his direction, just to make clear the depth of his distaste for Sam’s opinion. You hummed through a crooked smile. “I actually like those ones.”

Sam adopted a cheeky tone as he retorted, “Well, you had to go back to being wrong at some point - I see you’re choosing sooner rather than later.”

Huffing a laugh, you rolled your eyes at him. “And here I was just about to offer my help cleaning your cabin today.”

As if it were the most satisfying moment of his life, he made sure the words had an edge as he smugly informed you, “I already cleaned it.”

You had a forkful of eggs on the way to your mouth, but you momentarily abandoned them to meet Sam’s eyes. “You what?”

Judging by the way he nodded at you slowly, holding onto that shit-eating smirk, you were able to surmise that he was thriving in that moment. “You heard me. I cleaned it last night.”

You weren’t entirely sure how to react, so you looked over at Josh for a hint, only to find that he was doing a very poor job of pursing back a smile as he pretended to be very interested in his tray of food.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t clean yours right away,” Sam pressed in faux shock, though it was crystal clear that he was somehow already aware you hadn’t. Your features were schooled into an unimpressed glare as you opted not to respond - not that you had to. Just to drive the knife a little deeper, he delighted in adding, “I’d say that constitutes as out-counseling.”

It took your brain a couple of seconds of lag before you realized you should snap back at him, so in the most sarcastic tone you could dredge up, you drawled, “Oh, does it, Sam? Because you cleaned your cabin a few hours before me?” Without your conscious permission, your hips lifted off the plastic seat as you heightened yourself to him, and in the most annoying, smug way, his eyes followed the action as if it were a clear indication that he was winning the undefined argument.

You realized you might be overreacting when, out of your peripheral, you could see Josh quickly glancing back and forth between the two of you, as if he were waiting for it to come to blows. The heat was rushing to your face as you sat back down and let out a quick breath.

Pleased to hell and back, Sam was smirking devilishly as he noted, “Wow, that was quite the reaction for someone that’s been bitching at me to be a better counselor for two grueling weeks.”

After a few long seconds of you keeping your eyes anywhere but in Sam’s direction, you looked up at him and muttered, “I hate you.”

“Good.” That was apparently where he wanted the conversation to end because he wordlessly tucked his book under his arm and made his way to the front doors.

Both you and Josh watched until he was completely out of sight, and when you were able to push past the embarrassment of the moment to meet his eyes, Josh was wearing an expression that hinted at his alarm and amusement with the display he’d just witnessed.

He didn’t say anything until he realized you weren’t going to.

“I know you didn’t ask for my opinion, but I think you two might need therapy,” he stated surely, setting his elbow on the tabletop and then using it to prop himself up casually.

You glared at him out of the corner of your eye. “You’re right,” you agreed, and then quickly added, “I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

An abrupt laugh bubbled past his lips, but he decided to leave it there, which you found yourself grateful for. The two of you finished your breakfast in relative silence, though it wasn’t uncomfortable - Josh had never given you a single reason to dislike his presence the way his brother had.

One last time, he’d offered to walk you back to your cabin so he could help you clean, but you’d politely declined, telling him you could benefit from some alone time before the grounds were swarming with excited children again.

The weather on the walk back coaxed you into a euphoric state, so you took your sweet time to drink it in. A Pinterest mood board couldn’t have painted a more perfect picture of summer than the warmth of the sun, paired with the smell of freshly cut grass carried on a light breeze and the sound of the treads of your sneakers chewing the dirt path with every step.

The tree line surrounding your cabin was littered with little wildflowers that peeked their pretty faces out of the thick grass, so you spared a few seconds to duck to your haunches and say hello to them. You thought about plucking a couple to liven up your cabin until the kids came back, but you realized they’d look a little silly sitting in one of the paper Dixie cups the campers used to rinse the toothpaste from their mouths. Instead, you left them undisturbed.

Sam had been so quiet that you hadn’t noticed him until you were standing only a few feet from where he was propped up against the wood siding of his cabin, his long legs stretched out in the grass and crossed at the bare ankle. He had the sleeves of his t-shirt rolled up to the tops of his shoulders, letting the oft-forgotten skin get as much sun as he could absorb. As soon as your eyes landed on him, you fixed your expression into a glare that he just breathed a laugh at.

“Did Josh not walk you back?” he inquired, his tone giving away the lack of good faith behind his question. “Not very gentlemanly of him. What if you got lost?”

Keeping a cold demeanor, you replied, “He offered, but I declined. And what would you know about being a gentleman?”

He didn’t seem affected in the slightest; he held onto the cheeky smile as he disregarded your snide remark. “Getting sick of him already?”

“Of course not - he’s my only friend here,” you objected, crossing your arms over your chest defensively. “I had wanted to be friends with my partner, but that hasn’t been working out for me.”

You’d been hoping to see even a hint of guilt in his expression, but the faux sympathy you found instead didn’t taste the same. “Tough luck, huh?”

The moment fell silent, save for the off-beat chirping of the songbirds in the surrounding woods, and you left him to marinate in his uncertainty as you stared at him in consideration.

Finally, once he’d grown bored of waiting for you to say something, he expectantly quirked an eyebrow at you and muttered, “What?”

Something had clicked into place in those quiet seconds as you absently surveyed his face. Why had Sam come to breakfast that morning? If he’d already eaten, and he disliked being around the masses as much as he claimed, there really shouldn’t have been a reason for him to show up at all.

It felt like a piece of the puzzle he hadn’t meant for you to put together - like he’d been counting on you being so shocked to see him that morning that you wouldn’t even think to question it.

But you weren’t ready to let him in on the thought yet. Instead, you just huffed a laugh and wordlessly sauntered past him.

You threw all the windows open as you cleaned your cabin with a sense of self-satisfaction. The kids had all packed their bedding into a couple of large laundry bags, which eliminated a good chunk of work in your opinion, so once the floors were mopped and the entire bathroom was scrubbed - top to bottom - all you had to do was haul the bags down to the mess hall.

Unfortunately for you, they were heavier than they looked. As you slung one over each shoulder, you found yourself suddenly regretting not letting Josh stick around.

In an even more unfortunate twist of fate, Sam was still taking up space outside when you stepped out the front door. The book he’d had that morning was open in his lap, and he didn’t look up from it as you passed him, but the smug look he wore told you he was well aware that you were struggling.

He didn’t offer his help, and you sure as hell didn’t ask, so by the time you got the bags to the laundry room, you were covered in a light sheen of sweat. There was a kind, middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair that did all the laundry there on the weekends, and he informed you that you could pick up fresh sets tomorrow whenever you had a chance. You thanked him sincerely and headed back to your cabin, still trying to catch your breath.

Josh was standing on the path, looking down at Sam as you came up the hill, and when he saw you, he gave you an apologetic smile.

“Hey, sorry. I was going to text you but I realized we never exchanged numbers,” he explained and then flicked his eyes over at his brother, who was still lounging in the same position you’d left him in. “I was just telling Sam that there’s a bonfire tonight at the Birch cabins. I would have told you earlier, but Ash and I just found out.”

Bypassing all of his charming apologies, you warmly stated, “That sounds fun. So anyone can come?”

“Yeah, any counselor. Do you know where Birch is?” When you admitted with a shake of your head that you didn’t, he informed you, “They’re the ones by the archery range. Do you want me to come get you?”

As subtly as you could, you glanced over at Sam out of your peripheral to find him wearing a little smirk as he kept his attention fixed on his book.

“No, I’m sure Sam and I can find our way,” you declined sweetly, knowing full well that he’d have an issue with you signing him up for the event without any indication that he wanted to attend. His eyes were narrowed challengingly as he laid them on you.

“And what the hell does this have to do with me?” he retorted sourly.

Feigning innocence, you smiled down at him. “Well, after you expressed your concern about me getting lost earlier, I figured you’d want to make sure.”

“Well, you were wrong,” he informed you flatly, pointedly adding, “Again.”

Josh huffed, rolling his eyes, though the gesture still held a certain amount of fondness to it. “Christ, Sam. I’m sure you were going to go anyway, so just walk with her.”

Sam shot him a sharp look but didn’t bother arguing the point any further.

“Great,” Josh declared, adding a finality to it by clapping his hands together. “Everything usually starts up around eight, but I’ll see you both at dinner. Try not to kill each other before then.”

❀❀❀

That evening, the cafeteria was abuzz with anticipation. You hadn’t been expecting it to be such a big deal, but you figured out pretty quickly that this was what most counselors lived for - those few hours on the free weekends when they could really let loose.

You’d spent undeniably too long in the shower, loving the feeling of lukewarm water on your sweat-damp skin, and you had decided to let your hair air-dry during dinner instead of heat-treating it.

Josh had asked what you were going to wear in between bites of his tacos, but you hadn’t been sure until you were riffling through your clothes and came across a pair of daisy-print denim shorts that you’d forgotten you’d packed. You were proud of yourself for having the foresight to bring some beauty products for this exact occasion - you’d gone back and forth on the idea as you were packing your bag to leave home, but in the end, you’d correctly decided it was better to be safe than sorry.

Since you knew it would likely still be warm, even at night, you didn’t go overboard, but you thoroughly enjoyed yourself as you swiped some mascara onto your lashes with your favorite pop playlist acting as a soundtrack for you.

Two sharp knocks on the door around eight told you Sam was ready, and before he’d even given you a reasonable amount of time to cross the room, he impatiently repeated the raps against the wood.

You slung the door open to find him with a cigarette hanging from his lips that you judged with a quirked eyebrow for a few short seconds before he finally stated, “Let’s go.”

You knew his willingness to play along with this stunt you’d arranged was dubious at best. It wasn’t like you actually needed him to escort you there - you’d only signed him up to do so because you knew it would piss him off. That’s why, instead of making any kind of snide remark, you just smiled at him and said, “Yeah, let’s.”

The walk down to the archery range usually took about twenty minutes. You knew there were certain shortcuts you could take, but you weren’t confident enough to navigate them yet, and Sam was either in the same boat or oblivious to them because he stuck to the main trail as he walked a couple of paces ahead of you.

He didn’t say much of anything, which was okay - you just tried to focus on the way the waves of his long hair caught the moonlight from above. It was pretty rare that you got to see it down - more often than not, it was tied back into a bun, but tonight he’d opted to let it hang around his shoulders.

He was in a pair of plum-colored shorts and a cut-up tank top that had clearly once existed as a band tee, and if you didn’t have such a nauseatingly unstable relationship with him, you’d compliment him on it.

Then again, what did you really have to lose?

“You clean up nice,” you chanced, receiving a hum in return as he glanced back over his shoulder, which was obviously not what you were expecting. After a second, you sheepishly asked, “Are you mad at me for volunteering you for this?”

“No,” he stated simply and then added, “I’ve come to expect you to take every possible opportunity to be annoying.”

Even though there was no way he could possibly see it, you lifted an eyebrow at him. “Then why are you so quiet?”

“I don’t have anything to say.”

You considered it for a moment before requesting, “What’s your favorite thing to order at a coffee shop?”

Surprisingly, when he spoke, his voice was void of hostility - rather, he sounded almost entertained. “What?”

“I asked you what you order at a coffee shop.”

“Why?”

You rolled your eyes but fondly instructed, “Answer my question, Sam.”

Whether he was thinking over his response or deciding if he wanted to ignore you, his reply was delayed. “I like nitro cold brew. Sometimes I have them add unsweetened almond milk.”

“That sounds kinda awful,” you admitted, making him huff an audibly amused laugh.

“I usually need the caffeine.”

After a short silence, you cheekily asked, “Aren’t you gonna ask me what I get at coffee shops?”

You should hear the smirk he was wearing when he said, “I won’t have to. I know you’re going to tell me anyway.”

Maybe under different circumstances, the cocky statement would have made you feel ashamed to the point of clamming up, but as it were, you were only wearing a thin shade of blush. “You’re right - I am. There’s a cute place in my hometown that makes these brown sugar lattes that are so yummy. I like mine iced in the spring and summer.”

You could hear that, despite himself, he was smiling at your response. “Great.”

Neither of you said anything else for the rest of the walk, but it didn’t feel tense like it had in the past. It wasn’t too long before you could start to hear a bouncy beat filling the night air. People were dotting the area all around the Birch cabins, but most of them were congregated around a building fire, so when Sam took a seat on a vacant log that was acting as seating, you placed yourself next to him.

You hadn’t even thought to be unsure of that decision until you realized he was looking over at you curiously. “What are you doing?”

Anxiously, your eyes flicked down to the generous space between the two of you before you earnestly asked, “I’m sorry. Should I not sit here?”

As if he were trying to figure out whether or not you were teasing him, he gave you an unsure frown as he looked you over. “Why would you want to? I’m sure Josh and that blonde girl are around here somewhere.”

You breathed a laugh at him. “Her name is Ashley.”

“Fine- Ashley.” He rolled his eyes. “Go find them.”

It was more of a suggestion than a demand, but you decided you’d better listen to him before you really started to step on his toes.

You found Josh by the drinks, which were housed in multiple coolers just inside the front door of one of the cabins. He was chatting easily with a group of guys, but when he saw you, he waved them off, presumably with the promise that he’d find them later.

“You made it,” he stated happily. “Did Sam come with you?”

Nodding at him, you flicked your eyes over your shoulder. “He’s out by the fire.”

His features took on an impressed expression. “I’m not going to lie, I was expecting him to blow you off.”

“Me too,” you admitted. “I’m counting it as a win.”

You didn’t stay by Josh’s side the entire night, instead deciding it would benefit you to get to know some of the other girls. Luckily, Ashley seemed to know just about everyone despite being one of the rookie counselors, and you were able to seamlessly slip your way into a couple of different groups throughout the night.

Unsurprisingly, drunk Josh was just regular Josh but somehow more bubbly. He was so naturally charming that, multiple times, you found him sneaking his way into one of your circles and effortlessly holding conversations with girls he’d never met and had no intention of knowing.

It hadn’t taken you very long to feel buzzed off of spiked seltzers, but by the end of the night, you were well past tipsy and having a great time. For the first time in your life, you danced with people you didn’t know without a care in the world, and you kept it up until your legs felt floppy from the repetitive motion.

You even made the mistake of letting a guy settle his hands on your hips while you bounced around, which was fun in the moment, but became considerably less so once you got roped into one of the most boring conversations of your entire life. Since you weren’t sure how best to ditch him without causing any damage, you listened to him talk about his car and his college on the east coast for what felt like hours before Josh’s hand on your arm rescued you.

“Thank you, thank you so fucking much,” you gushed dramatically as he lead you away, making him snicker at you.

“Are you ready to go back to your cabin?” Josh asked, having to raise his voice to speak over the music.

“Are you going back too?”

He shook his head with an apologetic smile. “No, I just told a guy I’d play beer pong with him.” His eyes flicked up and, after a brief pause, you followed his line of sight to see Sam standing by the treeline, a beer in his hand as he chatted casually with a couple of other guys.

“C’mon,” Josh prompted and started toward him, checking over his shoulder every couple of seconds to make sure you were still there. Sam had the bottle on the way up to his lips when he spotted the two of you and then let it fall back to his side.

“Sam, would you mind taking her back?” Josh requested, his voice slowing to a sweeter cadence.

You could feel a heat rise to your face as Sam’s eyes landed squarely on yours. “Really? Are we gonna keep pretending you can’t walk anywhere on your own?” Sam prompted, and while he was obviously annoyed by the idea, his tone wasn’t outright cold.

“Normally, yeah, but tonight she could actually use the help,” Josh replied for you.

Sam gave you an appraising expression, mellowing further when he realized the state of your sobriety. You tried not to feel embarrassed that he could tell just by looking at you.

“Okay, yeah,” he agreed, thrusting his bottle of beer toward Josh and nodding at you to follow him as he started off towards the path.

“Text me when you get her back safe,” Josh added, firming his tone to let Sam know that it was more of a requirement than a request.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam muttered, quietly enough that you knew his brother wasn’t meant to hear it. “You’re not too drunk to walk, right?”

You declined through a laugh, and just for good measure, assured him, “I’m not that drunk. I maybe might have even been able to make it back alone.”

“I don’t know about that,” he quipped, the smile on his lips making it sound kind of low and silky to your fuzzy brain.

Without putting any thought behind it at all, you inquired, “If I told you I was too drunk to walk, would you carry me all the way back?”

He let a sharp, sarcastic laugh slip. “I wouldn’t carry you all the way back if you were dying.”

“Is it too late to go back to the party then? I’m pretty sure I could have talked that guy that wouldn’t shut up about his Audi into carrying me back.”

“If he could afford an Audi, why the fuck is he counseling at a summer camp?” Sam mused. You looked over at him to find the corner of his mouth tilted up into a smirk.

“I mean, I’m sure his parents are the ones that ‘afford it’. But, sometimes people just do stuff because they want to, Samuel,” you retorted and then took on an air of consideration as you added, “Or, maybe he’s also a criminal and he just knows how to have fun and talk to people.”

He shot you a look, though there wasn’t any animosity behind it. “Did you not see that I was having fun and talking to people before you and Josh put an end to it? Now I’m having no fun because I’m talking to you.”

You rolled your eyes at him. You wanted to say something light and silly - something that could easily fade from your memory by the morning - but you seemed to be experiencing some sort of mental block. It was almost as if your brain was no longer in control of your mouth, which is why, instead of saying something quippy and dignified, you blurted, “You keep acting like being around me is such an inconvenience, but then why did you come to breakfast this morning, Sam?”

The only reason you could tell he was affected by the question was that he stalled his stride for a split second; otherwise, he just glanced over at you and cooly asked, “What do you mean?”

It certainly wasn’t too late for you to back out; you were pretty positive he’d just chalk it up to an inebriated half-thought and let you move on as if nothing happened. But, of course, that wasn’t an opportunity that your mouth let you take.

“I mean, if you had already eaten a Pop-Tart, why would you have come to breakfast?” He didn’t respond instantly, so you reached out and caught his bicep, bringing him to a halt. “Admit that you somehow knew I hadn’t made it back to my cabin last night and you went out of your way to bump into me so you could rub it in my face. That’s the opposite of what someone who couldn’t care less what I think would do. I think you do care. You might even like me.”

Over the course of a few, slow seconds, his lips tugged up into a darker kind of warning smile. “You’re out of your mind.”

It wasn’t technically an admission, but something about his body language spoke a surrender for him. He glanced down to where your hand was still wrapped around his bicep before meeting your eyes again expectantly.

“You gonna let go of me?” he prompted.

It was then that your brain caught up to you. As soon as you released your grip, you realized everything you’d just said, and you could feel your cheeks super-heating. You hoped it was dark enough that he couldn’t see the undoubtedly red shade you were turning.

“Sorry,” you breathed, anxiously clasping your hands behind your back to keep them out of the way.

After looking you up and down for a second, he breathed an amused laugh through his nose. “Good to see even little miss perfect isn’t immune to saying stupid shit when she’s drunk.”

He started off down the path again, and it took him a few seconds to realize you hadn’t continued following him - but you couldn’t. That last comment he’d made felt like he had you by the throat. It wasn’t until he paused to glance back at you and prompted you with a “c’mon” that you were able to coax your muscles into moving, and even then, it was only because it would have been more embarrassing to just stand there.

For your sake, you sincerely hoped you were both drunk enough that you’d just black out the whole conversation, but you had a feeling it would haunt you for a while, every time you looked at him.

❀ ❀ ❀

You hadn’t ever been a big drinker, even back before you legally could, when it was still fun and exciting. Sure, you’d have a couple of glasses of wine with dinner or during a movie, and sometimes you’d even have a few hard drinks while you were out with friends, but it was so rare that you ever got truly drunk.

For that reason, you frequently and blissfully forgot what hangovers were like. You could remember the nausea and the headache, but some symptoms always snuck up on you.

The morning after the party, you woke up to a throbbing in your head. It made the edges of your vision ripple and blur with each exaggerated pulse, so you tried to keep your eyes closed for as long as possible, but eventually the urge to pee won out.

You had to move at a snail’s pace as you coaxed your body towards the edge of the mattress, but as soon as you tried to stand, your legs protested. It wasn’t just that they hurt - they obviously did - but the thing that really put a damper on your progress was the way they seemed to refuse to hold your weight.

As you slowly worked your way to standing, you could remember dancing the night before. You could even remember making the conscious decision to push past the fatigue so you could keep moving to the music.

Once you were completely vertical, you decided to play it safe and cling to the wall as you stumbled through your cabin and into the bathroom.

You weren’t in there for more than a couple of minutes - just long enough to pee and then brush your teeth in an attempt to suppress the nausea that washed over you in waves.

By the time you were opening the door, you felt a little better. Not good, but you were at least confident you’d survive the morning.

You let out a pitchy yelp when you saw Sam sitting on the bottom bunk in the corner of the room. He didn’t look great, but it was clear he was managing better than you, even in spite of the dark circles under his eyes that he tried in vain to rub away.

“What the hell are you doing here? You almost gave me a heart attack,” you accused in outrage as you clutched at your chest.

He gave you a side-eye, sneering as he informed you, “I stayed out here in case you fucking fell and hurt yourself or something. You were a mess.”

His fingers were rubbing over the back of his neck as if he were trying to work out a knot as he turned to look at you completely, and then he huffed a self-satisfied laugh.

“Correction- you are a mess.”

You glared at him but despite your efforts, you felt your cheeks run warm and you glanced down at your legs. “I couldn’t have been that much of a mess - I was able to change into my pajama shorts and get myself in bed.”

“You changed into your shorts after throwing up last night, and then I made you get into bed,” he informed you, his words thick with a forced annoyance.

After a second, you worked up the courage to nervously squeak, “You put me to bed last night?”

He hesitated but then nodded, rolling his eyes for good measure. “Josh asked me to after I texted him that you got back alright.”

“Oh,” you uttered awkwardly, but then remembered you should thank him. “Well, thank you, but you don’t have to hang around anymore. I’m good.”

He let out a breath as if he had been holding it while awaiting your verbal dismissal. With significantly more confidence in his body than you had for yours, he promptly stood from the little bunk and grimaced as he stretched his aching limbs.

He didn’t say another word before he stiffly made his way to the door and exited your cabin, leaving you with a feeling you couldn’t quite place.

You prevented yourself from thinking about it too hard by trying to comfort yourself back into feeling like a human. You brushed your teeth one more time, just for good measure, and then hopped into the shower to wash the night from your skin. You had just finished dressing for the day (in the comfiest clothes you’d packed), when a knock on your door pulled your attention away.

It was Josh’s voice that called your name, and he was wearing a concerned expression until he got a good look at you and saw, with his own eyes, that you were okay.

“There you are,” he said with a sympathetic smile. “Did you have a rough morning?”

You nodded at him, huffing a dry laugh. “I have no idea how you’re okay - I saw you drink like double what I did.”

Triumphantly, he grinned at you and quipped, “I’m good at partying.”

You wanted to be happy for him, but you could only conjure up envy as you looked him over. “Yeah, well, I’m not, apparently. Can we go to breakfast?”

All he could offer was a deeply sympathetic smile, though there was a visible humor behind it. “It’s almost noon.”

Once it sunk in, you groaned at him, making him have to bite back a laugh to spare your feelings. “Luckily, I had the foresight to grab you what I could.”

The pocket of his loose pants seemed to contain a portal to a liminal space, because, from it, he was able to produce an apple, a yogurt (without a spoon), and a little carton of orange juice, effortlessly.

Before you could thank him, he placed the items into your cradled hands and then held a finger up as a gesture for you to wait. He left you standing in the doorway as he stepped over to the boys’ cabin and rapped on the wood.

After a few, prolonged seconds, Sam swung the door open. His hair was also heavy and wet, indicating that he’d come up with the same idea to quell the hangover. “What?”

“Morning,” Josh chirped, obviously proud to be doing visibly better than either of you. “You still got Pop-tarts?”

Sam’s features slipped into a look of deep annoyance, but Josh just exaggerated his grin in response and held out his hand. Sam’s eyes flicked down at his open palm before he wordlessly disappeared back into his cabin, and a couple of seconds later, a little foil package came flying through the doorway.

Mostly unphased, Josh had little trouble snatching it from the air and then handing it over to you victoriously.

With a laugh, you popped the seam on the packaging as Josh pulled the door to Sam’s cabin shut, leaving him with the rest of the morning to recover on his own.

“You look like you could use some fresh air and sun. You wanna eat outside?” Josh asked thoughtfully.

After a moment of consideration, you nodded in agreement and slipped into your sandals.

He led you to one of the sitting areas by the soccer field and you both posted up on the same picnic table as you cautiously tested out your breakfast.

“How late did you end up staying last night?” you asked, to which he answered, “Not super late. I think we played a few rounds of beer pong before I stumbled home.”

“Did you make sure Ashley got back okay?”

“She ended up staying with someone else, but I checked on her this morning to make sure she was okay. I thought about sneaking in to stay in one of your bunks last night, but I didn’t want to run the risk of waking you up.”

“So you delegated it to Sam?” you questioned in a playful tone. “Poor guy looked so sore this morning, I almost felt bad for him. Almost.”

Josh looked over at you with a blank smile plastered across his mouth as his eyes tightened around the corners.

Suddenly concerned that you’d let something slip you shouldn’t have, you nervously bit your bottom lip. “What? Was Sam not supposed to tell me that?”

In a tone that was both curious and coy, Josh cautiously prompted, “Tell you what, exactly?”

“That you asked him to stay with me last night,” you repeated in confusion.

After a prolonged second, Josh seemed to catch up; he shook his head. “No, it’s obviously fine that he told you,” he agreed, eliciting you to release a tension in your muscles you didn’t know you were holding. “So, he did stay with you last night though?”

You snorted a laugh at him, unsure as to what the miscommunication could be. “Yeah, Josh,” you laughed around a conservative bite of the cherry Pop-tart you found yourself in an odd relationship with. “I’m not sure how else you want me to say it, but he stayed in one of the camper beds like you asked.”

The idea seemed to finally sink in as a little smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

“It was sweet of you to worry about me like that,” you stated gratefully, nudging your shoulder into his.

He hummed in obvious amusement that you could only credit to how humorously difficult it was for you to get your point across to him.

“No need to thank me.”

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#Pink Lemonade #sam kiszka fic #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fan fiction

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