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oreomonsterhunter · 3 years

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“I’m not wearing my sexy underwear tonight”

Pairing: Johnny x reader (or OC)

Word Count: 3988

Genre: fluff, not smut but they both really wanna toe the line

Warnings: language, some sexy kisses (cover your eyes kids)

Summary: Johnny takes his best friend on their first date

A/N: this has absolutely morphed into a long term couple, because apparently Princess has taken the reins 😂 if you like this, check out the rest of their story so far on my masterlist!

You were nervous. Friends with Johnny since diapers, and somehow you were nervous to meet him in five minutes. You glanced at the time—make that four minutes.

Pacing back and forth in front of the door, you smoothed down your dress again. All Johnny had told you was to dress up. He might be a fashion king, but he wasn’t exactly the best at sharing details. You’d teetered between twenty different outfits before finally settling on a happy medium. Couldn’t show up to a museum in an evening gown. Well, you supposed you could, if you even owned one. So the little black dress at the back of your closet was the final choice. Safe enough for just about every venue, since Johnny hadn’t told you where your date would be.

You sucked in a breath, fighting against the nerves tight in your stomach. Your first date, oh my gosh. How were you supposed to date Johnny? You’d done practically everything together already, what made this different from going to the movies together last week? Aside from the obvious—last week, you didn’t know what Johnny’s lips felt like on yours.

Then you groaned at your sudden realization. Jeez, you couldn’t do anything right in this relationship with Johnny. You were about to have your first date but you’d already had a hot and heavy makeout session at an unmentionable hour of the morning. So much for “will I kiss him afterwards?” Dating for five seconds, and everything was already out of order. You wanted to scream, but before your thoughts could really start spiraling, you heard a knock at the door.

You were sweating, oh gosh. Did you need to reapply deodorant? You froze, staring at nothing. Until another knock sounded, this time accompanied by Johnny’s familiar voice, “Yo, are you ready to go?”

You sagged in relief. Nothing else would have snapped you out of the nervous cycle better than Johnny being….well, Johnny. And when you finally convinced yourself to open the door, the sight of his easy smile was enough for yours to appear, too.

“Well, uh, hi,” he stuttered, making you giggle.

You slipped on your shoes, grabbed a small purse, and locked the door behind you. Then you linked arms with Johnny, “Alright, where to, mystery man? You haven’t told me anything.”

“That’s mostly because I didn’t figure anything out until today.”

Biting your lip to hold back a giggle, you tugged him down the hallway. “No wonder you didn’t share much detail. I should’ve known.”

Johnny tightened his grip on you when you stepped out of the elevator, leading you to the car. He didn’t say much, which was a bit out of character. Frowning up at him, you tried to meet his gaze. He finally looked down at you when he opened the passenger door for you to get in. “You, uh, you look really nice tonight.”

A small smile bloomed, “Not looking so bad yourself, hot stuff.”

* * * * *

Apparently Johnny had picked out a restaurant for dinner. A fancy restaurant. You read through the list of entrees with a barely-concealed grimace. “Do you know what any of these words mean?” you asked him.

Johnny beamed at you, “Nope, that’s half the fun.”

A waiter walked by with a tray destined for another table, and you both gaped at the miniscule portion sizes. “Those look like appetizers,” Johnny said, goggling at the tiny salad. “Maybe I can order several steaks. I’d need about five of them.” He started eyeing the menu again.

“As long as you’re picking up the tab,” you joked.

“Oh, I thought you were,” he said, all wide eyed innocence. You smacked his arm with your menu, fighting a grin at his usual antics. The couple at the next table shot you a look, and you hunched back in your seat.

“Don’t worry, I’m paying. Order whatever you’d like,” Johnny said, still puzzling over the ridiculous dinner options.

You frowned, reaching for your water. But shoot, it probably cost five bucks for tap, you thought with no small amount of horror. You set it back down before you drained more of Johnny’s wallet.

After a few more minutes of torturous silence, trying not to fidget too much, you leaned forward. “Do we even have a waiter?”

Johnny jerked upright, looking over his shoulder at the man in question. “I don’t know?”

“I’ve been trying to make eye contact with the staff for five minutes and they’re all ignoring me.”

Johnny blinked at you. “Wait, are you ready to order?”

“No, I wanna ask if they charge for water.”

“No one charges for water,” he chortled.

“I bet it’s five bucks a glass,” you said, crossing your arms.

Now Johnny was really laughing, and half the restaurant was staring at your table. “Only if it’s imported from the crystal springs of Iceland,” he said, grinning.

“Wait, really?”

“Hell if I know,” Johnny said, making you snort some of your water. You shrunk down in your chair, hiding your red face while he kept laughing.

“I don’t know this man,” you said to the people at the next table. They stared at you, whispering among themselves. Pouting, you turned back to Johnny. “I can’t believe you booked a table here,” you cocked an eyebrow at him. “I thought we were burger joint people, not escargot snobs.”

“Do you really not wanna eat here?” he asked, propping his elbows on the table.

You opened your mouth to respond, but your waiter finally showed up to take your order. “Good evening, can I interest you in anything else to drink?”

“Any Icelandic sparkling water?” Now Johnny was the one snorting inelegantly.

The waiter laughed, despite not knowing the joke. “Can I interest you in a bottle of red? You seem like a red wine woman.”

You smiled politely, reaching for the wine list when he offered it to you. “Sure, I’ll take a look.”

The waiter smirked, eyes landing on you. “I’ll have to card you, miss.”

Your brows raised, but you complied, digging out your wallet. Across the table, Johnny cleared his throat, “Do I look like a red wine guy?” But the waiter barely glanced at him before his eyes were back on you.

“Your photo doesn’t do you justice,” the waiter commented, handing your ID back.

“No one looks good in those pictures,” you chuckled.

“I beg to differ,” he said, then nodded at the wine list. “What can I get you?”

You glanced over at Johnny, who was fidgeting enough to shake the table. Curious. “What do you recommend?” you asked, twirling a strand of hair around one finger.

“You might be interested in one of our finer vintages,” he began, leaning over your shoulder to point out a few wines on the list. You heard a subtle sound, and out of the corner of your eye, saw Johnny’s fingers rapping the table at a rapidly increasing pace. You bit your lip, focusing on the wines again, but not before adding a little more fuel to the fire. Time to test your theory. You crossed your legs, brushing one foot up Johnny’s calf in the process. The man jumped as if electrocuted, his knees banging into the underside of the table.

“How about this one?” you asked innocently, looking up at the waiter again.

“A lovely choice, though it is on the higher range, so I’m not sure—”

“We’ll take it,” Johnny announced, plucking the wine list from your fingers and shoving it at the waiter.

You raised an eyebrow, but the waiter simply smiled at you, apparently unbothered by growly Johnny. “I’ll bring that right out for you,” he said, taking the wine menu and leaving you to suffer over dinner options.

Johnny cleared his throat, leaning towards you again. “That waiter’s a bit weird, huh?” he asked, watching the man walk away. “He didn’t even ask what I wanted.”

You donned your best sparkly-eyed expression, “But he’s being so friendly! He really deserves a nice tip, he had some helpful suggestions.”

Johnny frowned, “He’s obviously flirting with you.”

“No way,” you laughed, waving him off.

Johnny rolled his eyes, “Trust me. He’s flirting with you more than I am, and I’m the one taking you on a date.”

You leaned forward, resting your elbows on the table. “Maybe you should start flirting with me some more, then.”

Johnny sent you an indecipherable look. You wondered if your teasing had worked. But Johnny seemed to have calmed down some, now that the helpful waiter was out of sight.

You shrugged, sitting back in your chair. You changed the subject, giving the man a break. “Seriously, we don’t need to spend this much on dinner. I feel bad.”

“I thought you’d like this place,” Johnny said, brows furrowing.

“I will literally go anywhere with you, it doesn’t matter, I just….I dunno, I feel like I don’t fit in here.” You weren’t quite sure how to express your fear that people would call you a gold-digger or something, only dating Johnny now that he’d achieved success. Even if the two of you knew better, it still made your stomach twist. And not in the nice way it did while watching Johnny’s hands playing with his water glass. Shoot, shoot, shoot, now his fingers were wet from the condensation. You really didn’t need to know what that looked like. Had his hands always been that large? You shifted in your seat.

Johnny’s mouth twisted in a wry smile, “I don’t know if either of us really fit in with the rich old person vibe, but I heard the food is good.”

I’d rather have a bite of you, you thought to yourself, twisting the napkin in your lap. You’d never seen him in a suit before. Or at least, not in person.

Johnny coughed suddenly, staring at you with wide eyes. “What?”

Oh shit, did you say that out loud? Your cheeks burned. “Um, I’d be, uh,” you stuttered, trying to cover your mistake, all confidence extinguished. “We could get burgers, or something.”

Johnny sat back in his chair, eyes on yours. He smirked, and you wanted to disappear into a hole in the ground. Oh no, he definitely heard you.

“As long as I get to keep watching you,” Johnny said, voice low. “You really are beautiful, not just tonight. Every night.”

You opened your mouth, not sure what to say, but knowing that you wanted Johnny to keep looking at you like that. Like you were the main course. “Johnny, I—”

“Your wine, miss,” the waiter had returned. You bit back a frown, knowing he was just doing his job. But he seriously couldn’t have waited another minute?

“Thank you,” you murmured, sampling the first sip before allowing the waiter to pour both glasses.

“Can I interest you in any appetizers?” he asked, pouring Johnny’s wine.

You blinked, having forgotten the menu entirely. Across the table, Johnny pulled out the menu, but before he could point anything out, the waiter was hovering over your shoulder. “Might I recommend the cheese board? It will pair beautifully with this bottle.”

“Might I tell you my order?” Johnny said. His smile was sharper than before. You might have teased him some more, but you got a bit distracted by Johnny’s jawline as he turned to speak to the waiter. Honestly, you were having trouble tearing your eyes away from him all night. It felt like seeing him for the first time, and in a way, you supposed you were. You’d always known Johnny was attractive, since the time all boys started to look cute. You’d just never let yourself think about it too much. Best friend mental boundaries and all that.

Maybe if Johnny hadn’t said anything on that night, you wouldn’t have ever seen him like this. You wouldn’t have allowed yourself to admire the column of his neck, or his long fingers as they unbuttoned the top of his shirt. It would’ve been you and your stupid butterflies trapped in the friend zone forever.

Thoroughly distracted now, you bit your lip as you wondered what Johnny’s neck would look like with some new decorations.

“You realize they sell food here, right? You don’t have to look at me like I’m an appetizer,” Johnny whispered across the table dramatically. You startled, looking around, but the waiter had left at some point during your daydream. Oh gosh, did you drool? You pressed the back of your hand to your face discreetly, relieved to find nothing of the sort.

Then your brain caught up to Johnny, and you looked up at him with a smirk, “You’re too big to be an appetizer.”

Johnny choked on a laugh, covering his mouth to hide his smile when the other diners looked your way. When he appeared to have himself under control again, he eyed you from head to toe—or at least what he could see from across the table. He shot you a grin, “You’ll find out soon enough, won’t you?”

You watched him through your lashes, not quite sure what to make of him anymore. You’d had your fair share of fun with other guys, but never in a million years had you imagined flirting with Johnny so blatantly. Let alone in a fancy five star restaurant like this.

A sudden presence at your side startled you, and you jumped a little when the waiter reached over your shoulder to set a dish down. “Sorry for startling you,” he murmured, moving away slightly, but not before brushing your shoulder in apology. “Should I leave you with this for now, or are you ready to order?”

Johnny’s eyes flashed, and you bit back a curse at the waiter’s truly stellar ability to interrupt. “We’re fine, thank you,” you said, unable to stop watching Johnny. Or his hand, slowly tightening into a fist on top of the table.

“Would you like to hear the specials tonight?”

You donned a polite smile, nodding at the waiter to continue. While he read down the list of fancy-sounding entrées, you turned your smile on Johnny, who was vibrating in his seat again. You could’ve sworn your water glasses were shaking, and you held back a giggle. You uncrossed and recrossed your legs, extra slowly to make sure he got the message when you “accidentally” brushed his knee this time. The vibrations stopped, and his eyes burned into you.

“Thank you, we’ll keep looking over the menu,” Johnny interrupted the waiter, his voice deeper than before. Your smile only grew.

Once the waiter was out of earshot, you leaned in. “Can we leave? I can’t even kiss you here.”

“Yep, yes, absolutely,” Johnny said, standing up the second the words were out of your mouth. He nearly upended the table, making you snort. “Right now,” he nodded, striding for the exit.

You scrambled out of your chair, rushing after him. “Johnny,” you hissed, grabbing his sleeve. “We didn’t pay yet.”

He came to a halt in the hallway, and you nearly ran into his back. Then Johnny turned around, and you became very aware of the semi-secluded location as he moved closer. You squeaked out a panicked, “Not here!” You backed away until he finally reached out, one hand circling your waist to reel you in.

Johnny’s eyes moved over your shoulder, then back to yours. He smirked, leaning in close enough for you to feel his lips brushing your cheek as he murmured, “Tell the valet to get the car. I’ll grab the wine.”

You could’ve sworn you felt his hand brush down your back, lower. Your cheeks burned hotter. But when you turned, Johnny’s broad shoulders were disappearing around the corner, and the waiter was hurrying in the opposite direction.

* * * * *

You ended up ditching the car and walking around the neighborhood. You only looked slightly out of place with your high heels and makeup when you ended up at a tteokbokki joint. You’d played rock paper scissors between that and burgers, and Johnny won, as usual.

After dinner, you were reasonably close to your apartment, so Johnny offered to walk you home. It felt like another one of your late-night adventures, except you were usually in sneakers. When your feet got tired, you stopped in the middle of the block to take off the killer heels, sighing in relief. You slung the straps over your wrist, prepared to keep trudging along, when Johnny swooped in. One second, you were on the ground, the next, you were admiring the top view of Johnny’s ass from where you were dangling over his shoulder.

“Johnny, what the fuck,” you asked breathlessly, dying of laughter. And from his shoulder digging into your diaphragm.

“Are you crazy? You could cut your feet open,” he scolded you.

“At least there’s a nice view,” you sighed, reaching down to pat his butt.

Johnny put a little bounce in his next step, and you grunted at the impact. You could practically feel his smug little grin. “Hands off the merchandise.”

“How is that fair? You totally copped a feel back at the restaurant.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Bull,” you said. “You went all ‘alpha male’ with that nice waiter.”

Johnny huffed, “I wasn’t jealous.”

You grinned in victory. “I never said you were, mister offering-up-information. Now put me down, you caveman.”

Johnny’s grip on your thighs loosened, and his hands slid up to your waist, holding you tightly as he helped you back down. You froze for a second when your feet hit the ground, not expecting to be face-to-face with him so suddenly. “Wait right there,” Johnny said firmly, finally releasing your waist.

You blinked at him in confusion, watching as he slid his suit jacket off. Your eyes widened when he reached for you, but it was only to wrap the jacket around your waist, tying the sleeves into a knot to hold it in place.

“There,” Johnny said, nodding at his handiwork. Then he turned, crouching down slightly. “Alright, princess, hop on.”

You beamed at him, not that he could see it. It wouldn’t be a walk with Johnny if he didn’t end up carrying you at the end of the night, you chuckled to yourself. You were fiercely grateful to Johnny for thinking of his jacket—you weren’t quite sure how long your skirt was, now that you were wrapped around him like a koala.

“Thanks, Johnny,” you mumbled, burying your face in his neck. “You’re the bestest.” You left a smacking kiss on his cheek, and he laughed, tightening his hold on your legs.

Finally, you arrived at your apartment building. You slid your heels back on, balancing with one hand on Johnny’s arm. “I’ll walk you up,” he said once you straightened.

But when you got to your door, you hesitated, unsure what to say. Was this the part where you kissed him goodnight? You were torn, so at odds with the way the night resembled your old friend dates, only now things were different. What were you supposed to do?

“So,” Johnny drawled, leaning against the wall. “Where’s my tip?”

You stared at him, incredulous. “Your tip?” you repeated.

“Johnny’s chauffeur service isn’t free,” he said. “And if I remember correctly, you still owe me for last time.”

You cocked a hip, smirking slightly. “Any preferred payment methods?”

Johnny blew you an air kiss, and you made a show of catching it. “I take cash or card,” he informed you.

“What a shame,” you murmured, dropping your purse in front of the door. “I seem to have lost my wallet.”

He watched you carefully, barely blinking as you approached him, one slow step at a time. “Apps?”

You stopped mere inches away, “Not a single one.”

He swallowed, and your eyes tracked the movement. Your daydream from before came back with a vengeance—you bit your lip at the thought of marking him up. Then you leaned in, resting one hand on his chest. His heart pounded through the thin dress shirt.

“Will this do?” you asked, lips just barely brushing his. Nothing else touched, aside from your fingertips on his sternum, but you could’ve sworn you felt him shiver.

Oh so slowly, Johnny reached out, hands ghosting over your hips. You smiled against him, then melded your lips to his, bypassing whatever hesitations were holding you back. What was the worst that could happen?

You felt Johnny teasing at the seam of your lips and gratefully opened for him. He inhaled sharply when you inched forward, your chest brushing his. You couldn’t hear anything but your heart racing. And when his fingers dug into your hips, you fell into the kiss. He pulled you in like a magnet until every part of you aligned with him. Your limbs felt molten, burning at the contact.

Johnny pulled away, but not for long. You gasped for air as his lips traced over your jawline, making their way to the delicate skin beneath your ear. He pressed hot kisses there until your neck arched back obediently. And when he nipped at your throat, you whimpered. Thoughtlessly, your hips rocked forward. Johnny gave voice to a deep groan, so you did it again.

Growling lightly, Johnny curled an arm around your waist to pull you harder against him. All of the breath left your body at the feel of his growing hardness against your belly. You fisted your hands in his collar, tugging him away from your neck. You caught a glimpse of his kiss-swollen lips and blown out pupils, then dove back in for more.

While your mouth danced with his, your hands dragged southward. Your fingernails caught on a button or two as you traced the muscle beneath. Now Johnny’s hips were bucking into yours. You grinned savagely into the kiss. You’d just reached his belt when Johnny ripped his mouth away from yours. “Woah, woah,” he gasped. “Slow down, there.”

You panted for air, “What’s wrong?”

Both of you were breathing hard, and you were having a hard time ignoring the elephant in the room. Er, hallway. “You’re not trying to take advantage of me on the first date, are you?” Johnny asked with a breathy chuckle.

You laughed softly, tilting your chin back to get a good look at him. “Is it really taking advantage if you want it, too?” You smirked at him, rolling your hips forward to emphasize your point.

He watched you through half-lidded eyes, and you could’ve sworn you felt him throb. But Johnny, ever the gentleman, smoothed his hand down your back, resting his head back against the wall rather than picking up where you left off. “Cut me some slack, I’m not wearing my sexy underwear tonight,” he said with a crooked smile.

Oh no, now you had heart eyes for the man. You pecked his chin to hide your cheesy grin. “You let me know when you are, hmm?” you hummed, placing another kiss to the base of his throat.

“Princess, I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for you.”

You giggled, leaning back in his arms. “Am I so scary?”

Johnny sobered, meeting your gaze. “I just don’t want to mess anything up. Not with you.”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” you smiled at him. “I trust you too much.”

“Oh yeah? You still haven’t told me what you wished for on your fourteenth birthday,” Johnny taunted.

You tilted your head, thinking back. “I didn’t tell you because I was hopelessly in love with you at the time,” you confessed. “Now that’s out in the open, I guess you can know.”

Johnny blinked, taken aback. “Even then?”

“Johnny, I think I’ve loved you forever,” you said, staring up at him. “So of course I wished for the same thing every year.”

“What was it?”

Your smile widened, “Well, it already came true. You said it, too.”

* * * * *

Masterlist

#johnny fluff #johnny imagines #johnny scenarios #johnny fanfic #johnny x reader #johnny suh fluff #johnny suh x reader #johnny suh imagines #johnny suh fanfic #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct fanfic #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 fic

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

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Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader (part 3)

(part 1) (part 2)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself. except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.

word count: 3k

chapter warnings: mention of past sexual harassment, very mature karaoke (lol), mention of pornography

Day 63 and you still hadn’t talked about it. He’d actually gotten to know you a lot better over the past two months, even almost confessing his feelings for you with that stupid half-asleep storybook thing he’d done way back when, but you still hadn’t talked about the night you saw him looking in the rearview mirror.

Tonight actually reminded him of that night; this time was a premiere, for a movie you hadn’t actually been in but apparently you were supposed to go anyways? He didn’t get it but he figured he didn’t need to. As long as you came back alone this time, he’d be happy.

Of course, when he saw you step out to the car to leave for the venue, he was confident that would be impossible— not that you ever looked bad on a red carpet or anything, but wow… this was different.

“It’s not too slutty, is it?” you asked him nervously, spinning around to show him the back. Don’t look at her ass don’t look at her ass don’t look at her ass—

“Just slutty enough,” he responded with a gloved thumbs up.

“Perfect,” you smiled, and he opened the door for you to get in the back. He took a moment to catch his breath before circling around to the driver’s side.

You actually chatted with him on the way, which was a new thing you two had started doing when he drove you. He looked forward to your talks a lot— especially the ones where you ranted about whatever was on your mind. You would usually apologize for rambling but he liked it; and, you were cute when you got really worked up about something, even if he thought it was kind of trivial.

As he pulled up to the red carpet, with cameras flashing and the indistinguishable yelling of reporters and fans, you shot him a look as if you didn’t want to go.

“Everything alright?” he asked.

“Oh, yeah,” you shook your head incredulously, “I just… I wish you would’ve come and seen it.”

He recalled a few weeks back when you offered him a ticket to the premiere showing, but he’d insisted on just sticking to what he knew and letting your assistant have the spare ticket. “I’ll catch it on Netflix,” he dismissed.

“No, I mean, I wish you were coming with me,” you explained.

Was it hot in here, all of a sudden? Because his cheeks felt warm. “Uh, you don’t want me in there. I always fall asleep in theaters anyways. Just go have fun and I’ll catch you after.”

“Okay,” you nodded with an adorable little smile.

So he waited, wondering if he should’ve taken you up on it all those weeks ago, but decided he probably made the right call. He would just embarrass you in a place like that, more than likely, and you had enough to deal with already. He felt more useful waiting in the wings than being in the spotlight, to use a fittingly-timed theater metaphor.

It was a few hours of him killing time in the car, but he got to relax a little more since the event already had pretty good security on its own. You’d recommended a book called Flowers for Algernon to him, even lending him your copy for the time being, and so he leaned his seat back and picked up where he’d left off from this morning. Of course, if he had known that you’d be gone long enough for him to finish, and that the ending was going to make him cry, he probably wouldn’t have read it. WIth his luck, it was inevitable that he’d be all but sobbing when you texted him to pull the car around.

Wiping his tears and hoping his eyes wouldn’t be too red, he tossed the book into the glovebox and started the engine. You waved cheerily when you saw him from the entrance, and he attempted to navigate through all the other cars pulling up so he could reach you. Thankfully, you didn’t have a new friend with you this time— or an old friend. Jealousy crisis averted, for now.

“How was it?” he asked with a smile as you opened the door and slipped in, unable to hide how happy he was to see you.

“The premiere itself was a lot of fun, I got to see some people I hadn’t seen in ages; the movie, though? Sort of pretentious,” you admitted as you shut the door and he got the car moving again. “And way too long! I could watch movies all day, but that doesn’t mean I want to watch a movie all day!”

“Fair enough,” he laughed.

“What did you do?” you asked innocently.

“I finished your book,” he frowned, trying not to think about it so he wouldn’t get emotional again.

“Ah, I can tell you’re still a little hurt about it,” you smiled mischievously. “Should’ve warned you about the ending.”

“No, no,” he disagreed, “it’s not a bad ending just because it’s a sad one… it was a good book.”

You’d already been smiling, but your smile undeniably changed as he watched it in the rearview mirror. Something softer, something more sensitive. He liked this one better. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

Just in time to interrupt the moment, you saw something on the passing street outside that caught your attention.

“Ooh, karaoke!” you piped up, pressing your face against the inside of the window excitedly. “Pull over!”

He chuckled at how easily distracted you were, but did as you’d asked. He barely found time to slow down to a stop before you were opening the door and running out, flashing your ID to get inside.

He groaned as he realized how completely unsafe it was for you to be in a bar… especially now, when you were at your most recognizable and literally still wearing what you’d had on at the premiere. Thankfully, he managed to pull the car around and park in the closest spot he could find, jogging to join you inside the bar and hoping you hadn’t already made too much of a scene. His hopes were dashed the moment he pushed through the door, however.

“Is she perverted like me? Would she go down on you in a theater?” you sang along with the grungy backing track of Alanis Morrisette’s You Oughta Know; your lips were curled into a faux snarl as you stood on stage with your heels in one hand and the microphone in the other.

Bucky’s head fell into his hands, looking around to see hundreds of bar patrons, nearly all of them with their phones out filming you.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Bucky mumbled to himself, hoping you would somehow hear it and take his advice. Instead, you pantomimed sucking a dick with a cute little wink and everyone cheered. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

“And I’m here, to remind you,” you continued, jumping around wildly; you looked like you were having the time of your life, honestly. If he wasn’t so worried about you, he would’ve let himself smile seeing you so happy.

During the bridge, you stole someone’s water off their table and poured a bit on your head, slicking your hair back and shivering from the cold. There was something about the water dripping down your face, starting to soak your clothes and make your skin glisten...

Bucky glanced around to make sure no one was looking at him before subtly adjusting his jeans.

He watched you sing the entire song, making most of the notes and definitely capturing the anger of the original song— if clearly having a lot more fun with it than most would. The entire bar cheered when you finished, and you took a moment to take some pictures with people and meet a few fans, which he thought was sweet even if his bodyguard instincts forced him to interrupt after a moment.

“Alright, that’s enough,” he guided you away gently.

“Goodnight!” you waved goodbye to someone who was already buried in her phone and posting the photo you’d taken with her.

“Have a good time?” he asked sarcastically as the two of you began to walk out together.

“Would’ve been better if you hadn’t been glaring at me the whole time,” you smirked.

“I wasn’t glaring, I was just… watching. You have a good voice, you know.”

You seemed surprised by the compliment. “Oh. Thanks.”

“And your stage presence is certainly… energetic,” he grinned. “I bet your little charade is already trending.”

“I checked, and it is,” you giggled, showing him your phone for a moment where Twitter was open and you were the #7 topic in the United States and climbing. “And the part where I poured that water on myself is pretty gif-able, don’t you think?”

He raised a brow as he held the back door of the bar open as you slipped back on your heels and walked past him. “Is that why you did it? For the reaction?”

“I did it cause it was fun,” you corrected. “You wouldn’t know anything about that. And the water thing was just practical, I was getting hot in this dress.”

That didn’t seem to be a problem anymore with the way you shivered in the night air as he walked you through the parking lot. “Want my jacket?” he offered.

“No,” you frowned, but you eyed the leather with a hungry stare. He chuckled and took it off, draping it over your shoulders anyways. “How far is the car?”

“Uh, a block? Not much parking this time of night,” he explained.

“Ugh, these heels,” you groaned, “they hurt so bad. I don’t know if I can make it.” You began to slip them off but he stopped you.

“You can’t go barefoot out here, god knows what’s on the ground,” he shuddered; what if there was broken glass or something?

“Well, I can’t wear these,” you frowned, “and I probably shouldn’t be walking on asphalt in red bottoms anyway…”

He probably should’ve warned you before he scooped you up into his arms, but it was sort of instinct and he kinda forgot to say anything first. You squealed a little but then went lax in his grip.

“You’re gonna carry me the whole way?” you asked incredulously.

“It’s only a block,” he shrugged, adjusting you in his arms a bit before starting the walk.

It got quiet after that, the cool night air rustling the trees and blowing through his hair— frankly, he was a little chilly without his jacket, but it looked better on you anyhow. The drive home was quiet, too, or at least quieter than usual, but it didn’t feel awkward, necessarily. It didn’t feel like a lull in the conversation; it felt more like the conversation had just changed from verbal to non-verbal. You both looked around at the city lights surrounding you on the drive, silent because there was nothing that needed to be said. It wasn’t nervous, or tense, or anxiety-inducing like most of his interactions with you (or with anyone) could be.

It felt like time spent with an old friend. He hadn’t known you long enough for that to be accurate, but he was happy to think of you as a new friend. He just hoped you thought the same.

Arriving at the house, he dropped you off at the front and watched you make a mad dash for the stairs and presumably your bedroom, smiling to himself as he parked the car and came in to follow you. He saw his jacket tossed onto the couch and your expensive shoes discarded right by the door. Going upstairs and peeking into your room, he saw your limp form flopped onto the bed, your back exposed from the low cut of the dress.

“You’d better not get comfortable, you’ll kill me if I let you fall asleep with all that makeup on,” he frowned, leaning against the doorway.

"I couldn't fall asleep yet, anyways. I'm wired."

“Any plans to burn off all that energy?” he pressed.

You groaned a little as you sat up, starting to unclasp all the jewelry on your wrists, around your neck, and on your ears. “It’ll take me a while to get out of all of this— but not as long as it took me to get into it,” you laughed. “Then I’m thinking TV and beers.”

“Beers?” he questioned, emphasizing the plural. “You plannin’ to get toasted right before you go to sleep?”

“No, it’s plural because there’s one beer for me and one beer for you,” you explained with the slightest air of condescension, but he couldn’t really think of it as rude since it was an invitation.

“I don’t want to intrude on your chill evening,” he refuted.

“No, really, you’re not intruding!” you insisted, standing up and setting the jewelry on a nightstand before approaching him and turning to face away from him. “Will you unzip me please?”

He stammered a little. “I don’t… see a zipper,” he admitted with a weak voice.

“It’s on the side here, see?” you lifted your arm a bit, and pointed to it.

Reaching out to touch your zipper was reminiscent of that old boardgame Operation: he needed to touch the zipper and only the zipper, cause if he bumped into anything else nearby, he got the feeling he’d get zapped.

His breath caught a bit as he watched more and more of your skin become exposed, the zipper ending up so low that he could just barely see the top of something lacy around your hips— and he had to stop there because anything more could induce cardiac arrest.

“Thanks!” you piped up happily, slipping away to your closet to do the rest in private. “Will you get the beers while I take my makeup off?” you requested through the shut door.

“Sure,’ he replied, turning to leave but realizing he should ask first: “Shiner or Pabst?”

“Don’t patronize me,” you grumbled, and he laughed because it was a stupid question. Trodding downstairs, he grabbed the Shiners from the fridge, stopping to check his phone only to see that it had started to automatically send him headlines pertaining to you.

‘Touch of Blood’ star gives impromptu karaoke performance at Queens dive bar!

He laughed at the picture of you onstage, even though he thought it was kind of reductive to describe you by a movie you’d been in so long ago when you had so much great new stuff coming out. Jumping back up the stairs, beers in hand, he found you makeup-free (aside from some leftover mascara and eyeliner that hadn’t really made it all the way off) and in a robe, laying on the bed as you pointed the remote at your TV. He thought you looked almost more beautiful like this than you did on the red carpet; of course, objectively, everybody looks better when they’ve been painted to the point of perfection, but he liked the domesticity of this. When you were casual and relaxed like this, he could almost, almost pretend you were his girlfriend or something. And not, you know, a global superstar and his employer.

“Beer me,” you requested as he sat down next to you, handing you a bottle and trying to ignore the thorough view of your legs he was getting in that robe.

“Anything good on?” he prompted as he watched you scroll through the channels on the guide.

“Uh, not particularly,” you frowned.

“They’re showing a game,” he pointed out as you passed the sports channels.

“I’d rather watch this pay-per-view porn,” you rolled your eyes.

He cleared his throat but said nothing because he was confident there was no good response to that.

“Hey, I’m in this!” you beamed, changing the channel quickly. He nearly had a heart attack until he realized you weren’t scrolling through the porn channels anymore.

He recognized the film instantly as the one of yours that he’d seen the most, for one very embarrassing and slightly sinister reason; looking down to the corner, he saw the HBO logo and realized it wasn’t going to be edited. His palms got a little clammy but he tried not to worry about it too much.

“Oh, this girl was super nice,” you remembered as you pointed to a character on-screen. “She had a bigger role but most of it got edited out.”

“That must be a bummer,” he imagined.

“Eh, it happens,” you shrugged. “Beats getting fired, or recast in the sequel.”

“Have you ever been fired during filming?” he pressed, morbidly curious.

“Once,” you nodded. “We were only a few days into it so they had no trouble finding somebody new and redoing my scenes. Just think: I could’ve been a Bond girl if I’d slept with that producer.”

“You— what?!” he squawked. “You got fired because you wouldn’t have sex with a film exec?”

“I got fired because of ‘creative differences,’” you explained with exaggerated air quotes, “and, unrelatedly, those creative differences surfaced the morning after I refused to get down and dirty with the EP.”

“Jesus,” he shook his head, “that’s… I hope you told someone.”

“Yeah, anonymously. Somebody will care someday, but not yet. He’s still too profitable, and not enough people have come forward.”

He glanced over at you, admiring your profile as you kept your eyes on the TV and took a sip of your beer. When you turned your head and looked back at him, he realized he’d been staring a bit too long.

“What?” you asked, quirking your brow a bit.

“What?” he repeated.

“You’re staring at me,” you frowned.

“Sorry, I was just… sorry,” he shook his head and looked back ahead. What he found there wasn’t much less embarrassing, though: he knew all too well that this was the scene right before THE scene. The scene he’d watched over and over until his arousal overpowered his shame. The scene that he’d used to try to satisfy his crush on you, but it only made it worse. The scene that had burrowed into his mind and deepened his obsession even as he fought it with everything he had…

You know, that scene. And he was about to watch it with you.

Bucky was completely, entirely, and supremely fucked.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes au

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missymurphy1985 · 3 years

Text

The Strip Club - Cillian Murphy X Female OC

A/N - Set in 2010, and I've used fictional names for his wife/children

A night out with his brother and closest friends doesn't end the way Cillian expects it to.

Warning - Smut

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @ntmynouis @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @noctvrnalmoth @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @namelesslosers @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen @cilleveryone

"I'm really not up for this Pad, can't we just go for a beer at the Anchor instead?" Cillian complained to his younger brother.

"You haven't been out with us in months, Dermot has had this all planned out for ages Cill, come on!" He rolled his eyes, knowing he couldn't get out of it, no matter what he said. Pulling his boots on, the two of them left the house, getting into the waiting taxi outside.

Walking into the strip club via the VIP entrance at the back, Cillian kept his head low and his brother and friends close around him so as not to be seen. Last thing he needed was photos in the press of him coming here!

"We're here for The Secret Show? Booked under Padraig Murphy?" Paddy told the bouncer, who checked everyone's ID and led them through a curtained off section at the back of the club. No cameras, no members of the public, completely private.

The boys sat around the stage area, a waitress coming over to take their drinks order. Once she returned with them, the lights dimmed and the music from the movie Burlesque began to play through the speakers. A single spotlight on a stool on the stage.

Cillian could feel his cheeks burning, he genuinely had never felt so uncomfortable in his life. He'd never been to a place like this, had always avoided them like the plague. The idea of a stripper had never appealed to him. Someone he'd never met, stripping to her underwear to please him and his drunk friends and even more cringe-worthy, his little brother, was not something he was remotely interested in.

The dancer came out, swaying her hips as she walked to the stool. Perching herself on it, legs crossed. Dressed in a black corset, short black skirt, fishnet stockings, black stiletto heels, and a black masquerade mask covering the top half of her face. Her long, silky brown hair flowing loosely down her back.

She was beautiful, there was no mistaking it. Cillian spotted Paddy nudging Dermot and whispering something in his ear and rolled his eyes. Probably something incredibly inappropriate about the young girl in front of them. He couldn't help feel sorry for her - lecherous old men creeping all over her as she danced for them, throwing money at her like she was a cheap prostitute...

The routine began. Cillian remained stoic, arms folded across his chest while the other lads cheered, louder each time an item of clothing was sexily removed from her lithe body. Her heels had been kicked off, her stockings slowly moving down her thighs, he couldn't watch any more. Standing, he made his way over to the bar to order another Guinness.

"I'd have thought you'd be over there enjoying the show with your friends?" A familiar voice from behind the bar startled him.

"Kate?"

"Long time no see," she smiled.

"Wow! Last person I expected to bump into tonight, how are you?"

"I'm okay, I see you're doing pretty well too." He nodded, his latest film, Inception, had been a box office smash. Professionally, at least, he could say he was doing well.

"Yeah, I guess so." His head lowered slightly, as Kate placed his pint in front of him.

"You guess? You okay?"

"What? Oh yeah, yeah I'm fine. Although, no disrespect? Kinda wish I was anywhere but here right now!" He chuckled. Kate smirked.

"I get off in 20minutes, fancy a walk?"

"You know what, I'll take you up on that Kate. I'll meet you outside?"

"Deal."

Thirty minutes later, after Cillian had made his excuses to his brother, he was smoking a cigarette walking along the canal with Kate at his side.

"Did you travel the world like you planned after school?" He asked, stubbing the cigarette out on the floor.

"I did, a full year of travelling before I went to university."

"Where did you go?" She told him about Australia, backpacking across Vietnam and Thailand, before heading to California for three months on a work visa.

"It was amazing. Truly wonderful. I met some great people over there. But all good things must come to an end, right?" She looked at him, and quickly looked away.

"I couldn't stand in the way of you living your dream Kate, you know that. We ended on grand terms though, right?" She linked her arm through his and squeezed it.

"We did. Promised we'd stay in touch though didn't we..."

"Yeah, I admit that was my fault. Tanya wasn't overly keen on you was she?" His ex wife. Or soon to be ex, anyway.

"I'm sorry about what happened Cill. Are you okay?"

"I'm getting there, you know? If she'd rather fuck her friend's husband instead of her own, then so be it," he smiled as much as he could.

"Well if it's any consolation, she's clearly lost her mind." She squeezed his arm again, and he found himself moving it so it was wrapped over her shoulders. He could feel her shivering and pulled her a little tighter against him.

They approached a small apartment block around 100yards further down the canal, and Kate dug her keys out of her handbag.

"Thanks for walking me home. It was good to see you again," she smiled, unhooking herself from him.

"Maybe I could - " he was interrupted by the door opening, and a younger girl stood in the doorway with a toddler in her arms.

"I'm so sorry Kate, I gave her Calpol an hour ago but I couldn't get her to settle..."

"Hey it's okay, I'll take her now. Get yourself home sis, I'll see you tomorrow yeah?" The young girl nodded, before nodding at Cillian and heading off down the street.

"Liane grew up!" Cillian laughed. The last time he'd seen her she'd still been in primary school. "And who's this little one?" He reached for the toddlers hand, grinning when she took his little finger and squeezed it.

"This is my daughter, Lily."

"Well Lily, you've certainly got your mama's eyes, haven't you?" Cillian glanced quickly at Kate's left hand.

"Her Dad isn't around Cill, I'm not married." He bent his head down. Busted.

"Then am I allowed in for a coffee at least?"

"If you don't mind sharing me with a teething baby, then yes, you can come in!" Kate led him through and fetched the teething granules from the cupboard and a teething ring from the freezer. Cillian offered to take Lily while she prepped a cup of warm milk for her.

Seeing him bounce her on his arm made her smile.

"Reminds me of Jack and Niamh when they were teething. Had to be moving around, constantly needed distraction. You okay if I take her a walk around after? See if I still have the magic touch?"

Kate nodded, and took her back to give her the nurofen, teething granules, followed by her sippy cup of warm milk. Once she'd finished, Cillian offered his arms out for her. She reached up for him, surprising Kate as she normally shied away from strangers, and off they went around the apartment. She watched from a distance as he took her around, showing her the ornaments on the window ledge, her reflection in the mirror, bouncing her up and down as she giggled lightly.

After around fifteen minutes, he made his way over to the radio in the kitchen, fiddling with the buttons before he found the station he was looking for. Soft, gentle classical music played through the speakers. He turned the volume down so it was barely audible, and leaned Lily into his shoulder, rocking her side to side gently. She nuzzled into his neck, Kate watching, smiling, as her baby's eyes grew heavier. She could feel past feelings coming back as she watched them. As much as she'd pretended losing him when he left University to pursue his acting career was fine and she had gotten over it, she never had. And now, bumping into him again all these years later, those feelings were coming back with some force.

Lily was snoring gently in his arms now, and Kate gently took her from him. Taking her into a small room at the back of the apartment. Coming out ten minutes later and closing the door as quietly as possible.

"I'd say you still have it Cill," she laughed, switching the baby monitor on in the corner of the living room where he sat on the sofa, two glasses of red wine in front of him. "You read my mind."

She sat next to him, clinking her glass with his.

"Did you meet her Dad while you were travelling?" He asked, after taking a sip.

"Yeah.. he erm.. he died not long ago. Cancer."

"Shit I'm sorry... Oh Kate that's awful..."

"No it's okay.. it was just a brief fling you know, we weren't together or anything. But it's sad for her. She'll never have that father figure. Just me and her against the world now." She felt his fingers brush her hair out of her face and gently down her cheek. Turning to him, she put her glass down on the table and turned to face him. He placed his down too, and moved closer.

Their faces centimetres apart, she could feel his warm breath against her own.

"I should probably go..."

"Again?" She whispered. She didn't want him to leave her again, as much as he had no intention of actually leaving. Their lips met, a kiss that was fifteen years overdue.

"I haven't spent a day not thinking about you, Kate..." He smiled, pulling away.

"You mean that, or are you just looking to get your end away?"

"Which is why I'm going to kiss you now, and go home. But I want to see you again. If I can?"

"And what if I don't want you to go home..." She kissed him again, this time straddling her legs over his thighs on the sofa. Even if this was a one night stand for him, she needed him, and he wasn't getting away this time.

"Then I'm not going home." His hips rose to meet hers, gyrating over his erection under his jeans, both of them removing each others clothes in record time until they were left in just their underwear.

"My god, you're incredible... Let me taste you..." He flipped her onto her back on the sofa, spreading her legs and placing gentle kisses along the inside of her thighs. His fingers teasing against her underwear, softly caressing her mound, before sliding a finger inside and groaning at how wet she was already.

"Cillian please...." She almost whimpered underneath him, her hips squirming against his lips and fingers. He pulled her underwear down her legs, and unceremoniously threw them across the room before moving his lips to her open slit, drawing his tongue slowly up and down her folds. Her hand flew to her mouth, stifling the cry of ecstacy within it so as not to wake Lily.

"You need to be quiet, you're not going to want me to stop once I've started Kate..." He smirked, before attacking her clit with his mouth, drawing it between his lips, rolling his tongue over it, increasing the pressure. His fingers pressing into her thighs, surely leaving bruises, as his mouth worked magic on her, her hips rocking against him.

"Oh god... That's so good, please don't stop..." Her words coming out in breathy little moans as her orgasm built quickly. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him where she needed him. Two fingers suddenly entered her, making her gasp as they found the small bundle of nerves deep inside her, pushing and rubbing against it hard, matching his motions against her clit. Suddenly his mouth was off her, his fingers pumping into her, the palm of his hand pressed against her clit now as he moved his body up, his lips now pressed to hers. The taste of herself on him turned her on further, and she could feel herself letting go.

"Cum for me..." He whispered in her ear, sending her over the edge with a small cry into his shoulder, her body writhing against him. His fingers removed, replaced with his now solid cock as it pushed inside her quickly, picking up the same pace his hands were, hard and fast thrusts as he hooked her leg up under his elbow, forcing himself deeper.

Her nails scraped over his shoulders as she buried her face into his neck, frantic thrusts against each other, fifteen years of buried feelings coming out of them with a force that took her breath away.

"Yes... God yes..." Her moans into his neck drove him wild, her walls contracting around him pushing him closer. He could feel another orgasm building inside her, and angled his thrusts to hit that magical spot inside her perfectly.

"I'm so close Kate... So fucking close, you feel so good around me..."

"Cum inside me Cillian, please..." He grunted against her ear, nibbling on it gently as his hips pounded into her relentlessly now. Reaching his high, he flooded her, spilling inside her with a deep groan into her neck, sending her into her second orgasm, her legs wrapping tightly around his back pulling him even deeper inside her as she felt his cock pulsate, emptying into her.

He rested his forehead against hers, both of them panting, smiles forming as they looked into each others eyes.

"You're on the pill, right?" He chuckled, coming back to his senses.

"No." He lifted his head quickly.

"What?" She started to giggle, grinning at him.

"I'm on the coil, you're fine, don't worry!" He rested his head back into her neck, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Good to hear. I think three kids between us is enough for now, don't you?"

"What do you mean, for now?"

"I made the biggest mistake of my life leaving you Kate, I'm not planning on doing it again," his lips gently kissed the side of her neck, running the tip of his nose along her jawline softly.

He pulled out of her with a groan, taking her hand and leading her into her bedroom - he'd clocked which one it was earlier that evening.

Kate smiled watching him grow hard again, knowing not much sleeping was going to be done once they got in there...

#cillian x oc #cillian x smut #cillian x fem OC #cillian murphy x smut

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robinofinashiro · 3 years

Text

“look, i know we don’t know each other that well, but i’m still worried about you. no one deserves to be alone.”

characters: hoshiumi kourai x fem! reader / slight miya atsumu

request status: OPEN / please send any reqs you guys have! my inbox is currently empty and im lacking in any kind of writing inspiration...like seriously lacking lmao. there could be a part two if any of you are interested in one.

you looked at your now ex boyfriend, trying to keep your tears at bay. the two of you were standing outside the bar, not knowing what you were planning on saying the man you loved as you saw him with a girl on his lap, laughing and giggling at whatever he was saying.

“you could’ve just broken up with me, it would have saved me time and effort,” you told him with a stone cold face. you could tell Atsumu was in a straight panic, not knowing what to say or do, “honestly, I would have handled the break up a lot better than you would have assumed I would have.”

Atsumu reached out to grab your hand but you quickly snatched it back, putting it behind your back, “no, you don’t get the right to hold any part of me anymore. whatever you were doing, do it with the girl you were just with,” you exclaimed, a laugh of bitterness leaving you, “but I don’t want that girl, I want you!” he yelled.

you rolled your eyes, not believing a word he was saying, “no, you wanted a girl to fuck with on the side while I waited for you at home. you’re just angry you got caught, Miya, that’s all,” you stated. Atsumu felt stray tears falling down his face as you noticed a familiar face with snow white hair popping out of the front of the door.

“as wrong as this is to say, I was always preparing myself for this. my grandmother always said to have a envelope of cash and money as runaway money in case I ever needed to get away...” you played with you finger nails before looking up to him for one final time, “I’ll be moved out in a few days. the apartment is under your name and I don’t mind getting a new place,” you added on.

Atsumu saw you walking away, not believing that you were actually leaving him. he grabbed your ankle, practically putting on a scene for everyone who was hanging out in the front of the building, “Atsumu, this is embarrassing for you. quit it while you still have some dignity left, jesus christ,” you said not realizing the mantrum that he was throwing, “you really should’ve thought this all out before you decided to cheat. I always had one rule and you knew it. I could quickly replace you as fast as we got together and this was your one chance.”

you kicked yourself out of his grip, walking into the bar to have yourself a drink. you saw the girl who was on Atsumu’s lap not wanting to look you in the eye as she sat on her chair in shame, “enjoy him girlie because as you can tell, he’ll quickly replace you when he gets bored,” you tipped your glass of dark liquor to her in a ‘good luck’ type of way before finding an empty seat.

that familiar snow white hair you saw earlier happened to be Hoshiumi who was walking towards you. you being the former Inarizaki manager made you know the names to the most popular players from each team they played so Hoshiumi was no stranger.

“hey,” you heard his voice say over the music. you gave him a smile with a small wave, not wanting to say, “you okay? I accidentally overheard your situation with Atsumu earlier,” he asked, pulling the seat out from the other side of the table.

you shrugged knowing that all the raw emotions from the argument and what you just had saw hadn’t settled in yet, “I don’t know,” you said truthfully, “my boyfriend of three years was cheating on me and if I’m okay right now, I know I won’t be tomorrow,” you explained.

Hoshiumi nodded understandingly, “do you mind if I sit with you for the rest of the night?” he asked quietly, in a sort of shy way, which was odd considering Hoshiumi was just as hyperactive as Hinata Shoyo from Karasuno way. “look, i know we don’t know each other that well, but i’m still worried about you. no one deserves to be alone.”

you felt that pang in your heart as you saw the warmness on Hoshiumi’s smile. you tried to contain your tears as best as you could but Hoshiumi saw right through that. he tracked down the waitress and ordered the two of you another round of drinks, your choice of course as he tried to focus the conversation on anything that wasn’t Atsumu or your breakup.

from that night forward, Hoshiumi was by your side for the entirety of your breakup. he was of help when you needed an extra hand to move all your things out of your shared apartment with Atsumu.

it didn’t sit right with Atsumu at the fact that Hoshiumi was seemingly close to you all of a sudden. he had saw him that night at the bar but he didn’t think he would take advantage of the situation and so quickly. never once in the entirety of your relationship with Atsumu did you ever mention befriending Hoshiumi and so closely but seeing the way he was helping you move out and making sure you were okay threw him way the hell off.

once you were finished taking your things out of the apartment, you looked to Atsumu and wiggled the set of keys that were on your keychain out. you gave him one last look before handing them to him, “so I take it that you won’t accept the job with the Jackals?” he asked.

“I think you know that answer, Miya.”

you walked out of the apartment, leaving a teary eyed Atsumu at the door as Hoshiumi waited for you at the front of the building. your place a few minutes farther from Atsumu’s place. it wasn’t as nice of a place in comparison to how you used to live but it would do until you found a job.

“what are you plans now?” Hoshiumi asked as he helped you unpack things from the box. you shrugged again, “I really don’t know. Atsumu had gotten me a job with the Jackals and those were plans for quite a while but considering that relationship is long gone, I guess I really have to start looking for a job before I go broke.”

Hoshiumi laughed, feeling his phone buzz multiple times. he looked down to see a few texts from Ushijima and Kageyama. to your luck, the Adlers had also gotten a job opening for a few positions with a team. Hoshiumi had mentioned to the team that he knew someone that could possibly take the position of the old manager and they had been grilling him about it since.

the pre-season was about to start and they needed an experienced manager and quick. considering your qualifications with Inarizaki and the degree you got in college, he knew you would do well on the job and all you would need is a bit of polishing up in order to be great if not even better than their former manager.

“listen, I don’t know how willing you will be to accept what I’m about to say but Schweiden has an opening for a positions and one of them is to be the team’s manager and assistant. I might’ve pushed your name because I know you’ve done the managerial position before and we need a manager as soon as possible.”

your eyes doubled down in confusion as Hoshiumi showed you the hiring paper. you quickly skimmed it down seeing that you had the qualifications for the job. you saw that it was a text from Kageyama Tobio that read if you had accept the position yet before their coach killed them.

“wait, how long would I be there?” you asked, gripping his phone. you looked at you, now slightly confused himself, “what do you mean? you’d be there as long as you want or until you quit. the position is permanent.” you read the application again and smiled, “I just got this place but tell them I’ll be available for an interview at any time.”

Hoshiumi tackled you into a hug, his hyperactive attitude running rampant again, “THANK YOU! THANK YOU! the team is gonna be so happy, I know it!” he exclaimed, quickly dialing his coaches number as you sat there, taking in your all new reality.

after a run through of a few interviews, the Adler’s ultimately gave you the position as their manager and assistant. they found you the most suitable as you had experience under your belt and got along with most of the team. well...as best as you could considering Kageyama and Ushijima weren’t really the talkative type to begin with.

the move to Tokyo was a bit easier than expected. Hoshiumi quickly helping you into your new apartment as he showed you around the Adler’s gym and even the town when he wasn’t busy. you had your own office since you were assisting the team’s coach with a few office related things but most of your duties were strictly to the team.

with your new job came new team photo’s for the year as well as your organizations employee id photo. your uniform consisted of black leggings or athletic shorts if Tokyo was particularly hot that day and a Schweiden sweater/t-shirt on game day. on non-game days where you had to be in your office, the general uniform was business casual unless it was Friday’s where you could wear your game day uniform.

the team photo day was around the corner and the Adler’s even had a few professional makeup artist for anyone who wanted to have their makeup done for the photos. Hoshiumi and to your surprise, Kageyama, landed in the makeup chairs right next to you as they both wanted to be concealed so their under eye bags weren’t as prominent.

“you ready for the pics?” Hoshiumi asked with an excited smile. you nodded just as excitedly, “working in volleyball again feels so weird but I can’t wait for the season to start!” you exclaimed as Hoshiumi gave you a high-five in agreement.

unbeknownst to you but known to the entire team, Hoshiumi had fell entirely head over heels for you. his heart eyes weren’t a secret to anyone besides you and if everyone was being honest, they really wanted Hoshiumi to get a move on with asking you out so he could stop coming to practice with a lovesick puppy look on his face.

after all of you were called to the gym to take the photos, they had all the players and coaching staff take their photos first before any managers and front office staff had their turns. while you waited for your turn, you were talking with the other manager so was an ex player of the team and had recently retired due to permanent injury to his arm.

“so how do you know Hoshiumi?” he asked as he saw the wave Hoshiumi was giving you. you smiled and waved back, “he was a friend of mine through high school and we just kept in contact since. Kourai and I are basically best friends if I’m being honest,” you explained.

he gave you a look before giving out a belly laugh, “just best friends? you have to got to be kidding. there’s more to your relationship with Hoshiumi than just best friends,” he admitted. you were a bit taken back by his answer as you asked him to explain, “come on, it’s not obvious? the decoy is in love with you. he follows you everywhere and has heart eyes for you and I can sense the feeling either is mutual or it’s starting to be on your end.”

you sat in silence, debating whether or not what he was saying was true. you had never taken into account romantic feelings Hoshiumi could have for you and vice versa. you knew deep down, you did harbor feelings for Hoshiumi but up until this point, you had never put it to the forefront of your brain.

“managers! it’s your turns now!” the photographer said. you nodded, going up to the small set up they had.

they had you do a bunch of different poses. one photo of just you smiling, another of you holding a volleyball, and a few with the other manager on the team. they had informed you that this year, they would be displaying team player photos along with head manager photos in the front of building, right outside of the gym to show appreciation to the entire team.

after the photo’s were finished, your head was still playing the conversation you had earlier. the idea of dating Hoshiumi did not sound so bad in the long run and you knew that it now wouldn’t come off as a surprise if you did in fact show feelings to him.

“Kou, what are you doing tonight?” you asked as he helped you with your bag after practice. he shook his head, saying nothing, “wanna come over? I wanna pig out on food before the season officially starts,” you giggled seeing his excited face as he grabbed your wrist and practically dragged you over to his car, exclaiming you both could get food and snacks.

the night came down to you watching a few movies from both of your childhood and basically talking/snacking the night away. it eventually got to the point where you moved closer to Hoshiumi, trying to find warmth as your AC was on full blast and you both were too lazy to get the blankets you had underneath your couch to actually get warm.

“hey Kou,” you said, trying to get his attention. he looked down to you, a warm smile on his face, “would you ever...be interested in dating? I heard a few members of the team saying that you liked me and for a while, I didn’t want to believe that but I figured there was no harm in asking because I totally feel the same,” you finally confessed.

Hoshiumi sat there, mouth wide in surprise as your heart basically fell your ass. your thoughts were immediately plagued with the idea that you had ruined your entire relationship with him but that was quickly put to rest as grabbed your closer and held your face as softly as ever before placing a kiss on both your cheeks before reaching your lips.

“honestly, I was about to ask you out tonight too. I’ve been having these feelings for a while now and I’m glad you finally confessed. I’ve truthfully liked you since the night I saw you with Atsumu but I didn’t want to make it seem as though I was being pushy.”

you laughed, pushing yourself away from him a bit as he dipped you down once again and kissed you again. you ran your fingers through his hair as he kissed your neck a bit and parts of your upper chest.

“you’re the best. I literally thought the best day of my life was the day I got the job for the Adler’s but this beats it by far!” he exclaimed, hugging you now. you laughed, shaking your head at his excitement, “I could say the same,” you giggled as you kissed him again.

a few weeks finally passed as the season was in full swing now. you were working a few days a week and going out on the days you had off with Kourai. the only dreadful part in all of this was that the Adler’s were playing Msby soon and you knew that you would in fact be seeing Atsumu during, before, and after the game.

Hoshiumi could see the slight nervousness and panic on your face the day of the game against the Black Jackals. you weren’t as excited as you were usually were and you were responding to the team in snippets and very short sentences. the team could sense your shift in attitude but didn’t bother to question it.

“hey, you okay?” Hoshiumi asked, pulling you to the side a few minutes before warm ups. you gave him a questioning look, “I can see you’re nervous and I’m pretty sure it’s probably because of Atsumu being here,” he assumed as you reluctantly agreed.

he sighed, bringing you in for a hug, “you don’t have to work today. I can make up an excuse that you got sick and say you’re in your office watching the game,” he said. you shook your head, “no, it would be immature of me to miss a game because of that fucking idiot. I’ll be okay, I promise,” you whispered, giving him a kiss of reassurance before letting him go.

a few feet behind, Atsumu had saw the entire interaction happen. his heart was admittedly broken, seeing the way you were kissing and hugging Hoshiumi. he hadn’t known that you were working with Scheweiden nor did he know that you were even dating Hoshiumi.

when the team had walked into the gym, he had saw your photo in the hallway entering the gym. your smile was one he missed and he felt himself get angry all over again. it had been months since the breakup but you had yet to unblock him from any social media so all of this news at once broke him.

the game was a lot more intense than they assumed it would have been. Hoshiumi and Atsumu playing to 100% and even getting into small scuffles. you had saw the interactions and knew it was probably because of you but were arguing when it came down to plays so it didn’t look as immature on the court.

ultimately, Schweiden won the game, beating the Jackal’s by a landslide in their last set. you were smiling at Hoshiumi as the game ended, bringing him a water and giving him a kiss before handing off the waters to Ushijima and Kageyama next. you had ran out of the gym for a few seconds to refill waters for a few players when you ran into the last person you expect.

“if you can excuse me Miya, I need to refill these,” you said, not even looking at him in the eye. he moved out of the way, seeing thew way you refilled the bottles as quickly as possible. once you were done, you were about to head back into the gym when he stopped you, “how are you?” he asked shyly.

you sighed, “fine Miya,” you said curtly. Atsumu growled in annoyance, “are you together with-,” “with me!” you heard Hoshiumi’s voice scream through the hall. you smiled at the sight of him as he pushed you behind him and sizing up the much taller Atsumu.

“this had nothing to do with you, Hoshiumi.”

“oh but it does! she’s my girlfriend, our manager, and a member of the team so whatever you need to say to her, you can say to me!” you laughed at Hoshiumi’s confidence as Atsumu looked at him, rage filling his eyes, “what? what’re you gonna do? hit me? you’d get suspended and look like a complete idiot to the entire V-league!”

“do we have an issue?” Ushijima asked, looking at Atsumu and Hoshiumi as Sakusa followed him, “no issue at all,” Atsumu gritted as Hoshiumi wore a proud grin on his face.

“that’s great to hear. come on ( your name ). Hoshiumi you better be in the gym in the next minute.”

“lets go Atsumu, you don’t win anything out of creating a scene,” Sakusa said as he grabbed his friend and tried dragging him out of the hallway. Hoshiumi waved at Atsumu as cockily as possible, “remember Atsumu! not only did we win the game but I also won your girl!” he screamed.

Atsumu went to jump but was pulled back by Sakusa and Bokuto as you walked out of the gym again to grab Hoshiumi. he grabbed you by the wrist and kissed you in front everyone that was in the hallway. Atsumu could hear Bokuto telling him to calm down but he wanted nothing more than to run over to Hoshiumi and kick his ass before reclaiming you as his again.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu x reader #atsumu miya #atsumu miya imagine #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu miya x you #hoshiumi korai #hoshiumi korai imagine #hoshiumi korai x reader #hoshiumi korai x you #sports anime #sport anime

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atalho-s · 3 years

Text

Light Up The Dark

Part 1 | June

pairing: bartender!tom x famous!reader

warnings: some smut +18 (in this particular chapter it’s nothing TOO explicit, but miniors be aware), swear words?, drinking, let me know if anything else!

words: 4.9 k

summary: y/n is a famous horror writer. Her books are on the lips of the people and her face is on all the magazine covers of promising young people.

She has just moved to Los Angeles, the city of celebrities and luxury, when she starts to get a writer's block as she starts writing her newest book. A way to distract herself and seek inspiration leads her to have her destiny mapped out with a simple waiter named Tom who has a delicious british accent.

What happens when her inspiration comes back only after she spends a night with him and she only manages to write after being in the company of that guy she just met? Maybe he'll become her newest addiction.

a/n: english it’s not my first language, so i’m sorry for any mistake! this is a series i started writing a while ago, i hope y’all enjoy :) the reader it’s from brazil here, but you can replace from any country you want lol And obv i’m not from LA and never been there, so if i say something out of reality it’s bc of that 😂

"June arrived at the restaurant, sat down near the bar and looked around vaguely. The strange people's faces made her think better and maybe drink a shot of tequila too.

She opened his folder with the horrifying photos of the mysterious case. She felt sick to her stomach.

People said that by then she should have been used to see this kind of thing, but that was repulsive.

She wish the nightmare she had the night before was a way to solve that puzzle, but believing in the afterlife now wouldn't help her... If...If..."

- Damn it... - Y/n slammed her fist on the table. - Writer's block sucks. - She said and took the last sip of her tea.

It s been a week since she couldn't write anything. She would write maybe two paragraphs, maybe even three if she got lucky, but she always ended up erasing it, because she always turned into something meaningless or too cliche.

Damn the time she had promised to deliver something to her editor by the end of the month. But she hadn't counted on the lack of ideas when she agreed to that.

She got up from her chair in frustration and crossed her arms, pacing, as if her creativity had gone out for a walk and she was waiting impatiently for it to come back.

Why had she agreed to write a new book in the first place? She didn't need money. Their previous four books were already making huge profits, and they were going to make a new television series based on one of them.

So why writing another one? Maybe because, she had been having too many nightmares lately. Many family and friends told her to see a psychologist, see if she didn't have some hidden trauma. But looking for a psychologist? Admitting your weaknesses and personal things to a stranger? Never. That would be horrifying.

Writing helped. Transferring his fears to pages was hers gift. When she wrote she didn't have nightmares, didn't see things, wasn't sad. It was like a drug, a calming medicine.

Maybe fame was also making her restless lately. She hated being the spotlight, being the magazine cover of promising young people. She hated to see her name highlighted. But she loved having readers, yes. She loved when someone felt good reading her books or in the good sense of the word: terrified by her stories.

At the height of her 25 years, he never thought her books would become famous at that point. She had always enjoyed writing since she was a child, but working with it was just an unattainable dream. Until, at age 19, she quit her hideous job as a hotel receptionist and decided to publish her first story.

Obviously there were many rejections, until a publisher agreed to publish their work. From then on, her books became more and more known. They called her the new horror genius, the mystery queen, and sometimes even "Stephen King's lost daughter."

She didn't think it was all that. But she accepted the descriptions gladly. No wonder her books didn't come out of the top spot on the best sellers.

Another thing that motivated her to continue with that story, was a phrase from her own idol mentioned, Stephen King: "good stories are those that stay in the head for a long time". And God only knew how that story had been with her for far too long. She always wanted to put it down on paper, so here she was trying to put into words what her head brought up as random thoughts.

But now she was having one of his first creative blocks. Obviously she had already had it with previous books, but nothing as frustrating as this one. She had been trying hard for days, which was exhausting.

She looked at the clock on the wall: 11pm. Who knows if she took another break before starting writing again? Maybe it would help to come up with more ideas.

She thought about watching a show or movie, but he wasn't in the mood. She looked at her long polka dot pajamas under her favorite warm robe and snorted. Go out? On a Thursday night? On a cold night? No way.

But what if it helped her have more writing material? Watching people on the street really helped. If June, the character in her book, was in a bar, maybe if she went to one too it would help to have something to build on.

Writers did it all the time. Describe places that already existed, situations similar to which they lived. So, it wouldn't be new. Maybe she'd even put the location in her tribute if helped she got out of her creative block.

She took a deep breath and went to take a shower. It was decided, she would go out. She put on her best jeans, a Ramones T-shirt with a leather jacket. It wasn't a fancy outfit, but she didn't intend to go somewhere fancy anyway. Her stylist would have been dying to see her now, but she didn't care one bit.

She went out pressing the bottom of the elevator. Y/n had lived on the top floor of a building for 2 months, right in downtown Los Angeles. Sometimes she didn't even know why she chose to live there, she hated the big city and what came with it: paparazzi, celebrities, crazy people who feel superior, wealth and luxury. She came from a humble family, so she always felt like an outsider.

Y/n arrived downstairs and left the condominium calling a taxi that was passing in the street just in time. She walked in and closed the door, crossing her arms, trying to ward off the cold.

- Good night miss, where are you going? - the driver asked looking at her in the rearview mirror.

- Good night... Actually I don't know, do you have any suggestions for a bar around here?- she asked looking out the window. She didn't even bother to look for suggestions for places nearby.

- Well, it depends on what you're looking for... Something luxurious or something fun? - He said and a smiled played on the corer of her mouth. Luxurious was the opposite of fun indeed.

- Something fun, of course.

- So, I suggest the new Seven Devils bar, it's less than 20 minutes from here... - he said.

- Interesting name... Could be. - She said shrugging.

- The name is kinda creepy, but the place is cozy and welcoming, I went once. - the driver said starting and entering the street that was practically empty for being a weekday.

- Cool... - Y/n said looking at the city lights through the window.

After nearly twenty minutes the taxi stopped in front of what appeared to be a small door with a security guard in front of it. The neon sign indicated the name of the place, it seemed a mysterious place for those who passed by without knowing it.

- Thanks. - Y/n said handing the driver the money.

- You're not the Y/n Y/l/n? I didn't want to say anything, but I'm a fan of you, I love your books, they help me pass the time while I wait for passengers. - the driver asked turning a little with one of the Y/n books in his hand. - Could you sign this for me?

- Sure! - Y/n spoke excitedly taking the book from his hand and leaving a message along with her signature. - Thanks for the tip of the place. Have a good night... - She said opening the door.

- No, thank you, have a good night miss. -he said and she smiled closing the door and the taxi left leaving her alone looking at the door in front of her.

She approached the security guard who wished her good night, giving her room to enter, after she showed her ID. Y/n entered a little afraid of what she would find. The door behind her closed and she looked around. It was really cozy as the taxi driver said, it had a part with several tables, which were a little empty and a bar with stools around. The place had a good atmosphere, one of those that people go there to meet and chat with friends, in the background there was a kind of pop song that she wasn't sure if she knew or not.

He slowly approached the bar and sat down on one of the stools. A woman with several tattoos appeared behind the counter and came to serve her.

- Good night! How can I serve you?- she asked with a smile.

- Good night... Hm... Maybe a martini? - Y/n said taking a look at the drinks on the shelf behind the attendant.

- Okay, I'll be back with your order, anything else?

- That's it for now, thanks. - She replied smiling and the attendant walked away.

Y/n kept looking around, watching people, maybe looking for some inspiration. Something that would turn the key in his mind. Many who were there were in groups of friends and were talking animatedly, laughing. Some young and some older, in suits and ties, perhaps coming out of work.

Until one guy in particular caught her attention. He wore the black uniform with the name of the place, with an apron tied around the waist of the same color, and was picking up some glasses from some empty tables. He had dark brown hair slicked back and eyes the same color, very expressive and large. A boy's face from the outside, but on the inside had a mysterious and confident air.

He balanced a tray full of things with an greatest skill in one hand and smiled at some people, he seemed charming because everytime he left a table he left people whispering and giggling embarrassed behind his back.

He walked over and entered the bar placing the tray behind the counter, came close to the other attendant who already had the Y/n martini ready and she could hear him talking, soon realizing he had a perfect accent.

- Sally, you can leave it to me, go take your break. Whose martini is it?- he asked taking a look around.

- Oh thank you, my feet are killing me. It's the girl over there. -she said indicating Y/n with her head and he looked at her, making Y/n realize that she was staring at him for too long, so she looked away embarrassed.

- Okay. - he said looking at where Y/n was sitting and stopped in front of her with the glass. - Good night miss, here is your order. - He spoke with a british accent. Only at that moment did Y/n realize that his accent was well loaded and God only knows how much she loved that accent.

- Oh yes, thank you very much. - She said raising her eyes to look at him and smiled then he blinked with one of his eyes and gave her one more look, before going to deliver another order to a man who was sitting a few benches away.

Y/n felt a shiver all of a sudden, that boy had made her legs a little weak and she didn't really know why. I mean, he was handsome, very handsome and he had a special charm, but it wasn't that much, was it? Maybe it was because it had been a while since she'd dated anyone. When was the last time? Two months ago? Since she had moved in she hadn't gone out with anyone, she had locked herself in her apartment and was writing like crazy. She didn't have time to go out, not even with her friends when she was working on a new book. Which brought them dissatisfaction from time to time, not just because she didn't hang around with them, but because she didn't even go out on one-night stands.

She never been the one that going out with a guy just for sex, she had to have some good first dates and maybe she would take him to see her apartment or go to his apartment. Friends of hers thought she was too old in her spirit, but what can he do? If she couldn't be bad girl once in a while. For a moment she thought, "For this english guy I would be" but shook her head away from the thoughts. She went back to analyzing him, dammit why did he have to be so fit? She could see that the T-shirt he was wearing highlighted his muscles that were only left to her imagination, she found herself biting her lip a bit and snatching her martini off the counter, taking a big sip.

The attendant approached again, drying some glasses with a towel, and took one more look in her direction where she looked away quickly making him smirk. He stopped in front of her again, bracing her arms on the counter, making her swallow hard. He didn't know why she was so nervous, he was just a guy, no biggie.

- I like the shirt. - He pointed with a smile, which made her think he had a beautiful and endearing smile. She looked down and then looked at him smiling too.

- Thank you... Ramones is everything... - she said and drank the last sip of her drink placing the empty glass in front of her right after. - Can you serve one more?

- Sure...- he said, still smiling, took the bottle and filled his glass again. - Trying to distract yourself on a thursday night?

- Yeah... you could say yes... - she said taking another sip. - Have you worked here for a long time?

- In fact, it's been almost six months since I moved to the United States and I've been working here for four months. -he said putting the towel that was in his hand on his shoulder.

- Hm... You're from London?

- I am, wow how did you find out? - he asked raising an eyebrow playfully and she smiled.

- Yeah, your accent really doesn't give out anything ... - she said and he gave a low laugh making her have more goose bumps.

- You also have a different accent, have you lived here for a long time? - he didn't know who she was, which was good. But it also wasn't like she was recognized all the time, despite her face being on magazine covers, she was still a writer, so she was only recognized by those who liked to read or who vaguely remembered her face.

- I was born in Brazil actually, but I've lived here for years, lived in another city for almost five years and now I've decided to come to Los Angeles two months ago...

- I see ... - he said organizing some drinks that were on the counter. - Do you like it here?

- More or less... It's a busy city, isn't it?

- Yeah, it's not for anyone. - He said shrugging. - I like it, I like the rush, but the glamor part really isn't me. - the attendant said and she smiled.

- You're right... I mean, I don't like the glam too much either... - She looked away at her nails.

- What do you work with? - he asked and she looked at him again.

- I'm a writer...

- Nice! What do you write? - He asked curious looking at her with attention.

- I write horror and thriller books.

- Interesting... I would never read, actually I'm not much of a reader anyway, but I wouldn't, because I'm terrified of those things. - He said crossing his arms and she laughed.

- Oh, it's not that terrifying, it's just stories. - She said leaning her elbows on the counter.

- Still, I prefer to have my good night's sleep intact. - He said and she laughed making him smile looking at her.

When she was about to say something, a customer signaled for him and he excused himself going towards the man who was furthest away.

Y/n sighed. She still didn't have any new ideas about her story, but she was entertained by that conversation. She liked not being recognized, she liked him not being interested in her books, for a moment she felt oblivious to anything, liked feeling disconnected from her world.

He returned shortly after and they started talking again. They talked about bands, movies, superficial celebrities and even politics (an important topic in Y/n's vision, who was very firm with her ideas, thankfully he had passed the test). She found out that he was the same age as her and that he moved to the US to look for something that would give him money or a perspective on life, ended up getting that job and intended to stay until he found a different area. The hours passed and they kept finding subjects to give their opinion or questions to ask each other.

- Did you go to college? - she asked after a while.

- No, I don't think I'm smart enough for that, or have the patience. What about you?

- Everyone is smart enough. I started going to business school, but I dropped out when my books started to pay off...

- Wow, your books should give you a good amount of money to be able to drop out of college and dedicate yourself to them...

- Yeah... You could say that. - She shrugged.

- You know looking at you closer like that...- he said getting a little closer and she held her breath for a moment. - I've seen you somewhere...

- Really? - She said raising her eyebrow and drinking from a straw, now with a different drink.

- I don't know, you're not strange to me... - he said putting his hand on his face thoughtfully.

- Well, I hope it's from somewhere nice. - She smiled and he smiled back looking at her. - Do you have a girlfriend or are you married? - Y/n asked and regretted a little, what was she thinking? He wasn't married, as he didn't have a ring on his finger as she'd noticed. But what was her intention by asking that question? She didn't even know, she just knew it had escaped her.

- Neither darling. - He replied smiling a little mischievously and she felt butterflies with the way he called her by that nickname and with that accent. - How about you?

- Neither ... - She replied avoiding looking at him, those eyes hypnotized her and she didn't like to feel at his mercy of a guy she had just met. She took the cell phone disguising but paid attention to the time. - My God, it's already 2:00 in the morning! I completely missed the time.

- I think the company ended up distracting you. - He said still not taking his eyes off her and she felt her cheeks heat up.

- Yeah, the chat was really good... But I have to go... - she said getting up.

- If you wait I can take you home, I'm already leaving, the bar is already closing. - he said and Y/n looked around seeing that some waiters were already collecting some things from the tables.

She thought for a moment, take a ride home with him? It didn't make sense, she had just met him, but at the same time she had enjoyed talking to him so much. He didn't seem like a bad person, but even so you would never know for sure. At the same time she never took any chances, why not let that pretty boy take her home? Finally, she thought: you know what? Screw this.

-Erm, ok...- She shrugged. - I'll go to the cashier to pay and wait for you outside?

- No need to pay darling, it's on me. - He spoke winking and she smiled.

- Oh no, I'll pay no problem...

- Your company has paid off your debt, it's ok. - He replied and she took a deep breath rolling her eyes.

- If you insist...- she said giving up.

He came out from behind the counter and motioned for her to follow him, arriving at the front door where the security was.

- Tuwaine, you can let her pass, it's on me. - He told the big guy and he looked at the english man, sawing his eyes suspiciously and smiling right away. Making Y/n laugh inside.

- Meet you outside? It will only take a few minutes - the attendant said and she nodded, leaving in the cold night.

She leaned against the door with her thoughts. She had come here just to get inspiration and to have her creative back, but she was coming home with an english guy. She didn't even recognize herself anymore, but to say she wasn't anxious (in a good way) was a lie.

She was lost in her thought, until minutes later he came out wearing a denim jacket, which made him look even more handsome.

- Let's go? - He said and she followed him to an old car parked right in front of the bar.

He opened the door for her to get in and she thanked him by sitting in the passenger seat, pulling on her seat belt as he closed the door. He sat down next to her right away, also putting on his belt.

- Hey, before we go: I didn't ask for your name! If you're going to take me home at least I have to know that- she asked realizing that she didn't even know that yet and he looked towards her smiling.

- Tom Holland. - He said stretching his hand. - Nice to meet you.

- Y/n Y/l/n- she said, squeezing his hand. And you can't deny that she felt butterflies in her stomach as she felt her skin on hers.

- Your name is not strange to me, I must have read it in one of your books in some shop window. - He said starting and leaving with the car.

- Yeah, who knows ... - she said and he turned on the radio leaving the volume low.

They were exchanging a few words until she indicated that they had arrived at the building where she lived. Tom parked and looked up in a daze.

- Wow, you really have money... - he said and she took off her belt turning towards him.

- A little bit...- she replied crossing her arms. - Well, thank you so much for the ride...

- You're welcome darling. - He said turning his eyes to her. Again that nickname that sounded perfect on his lips.

She turned around, but when she was about to open the door, she turned back to Tom, who was leaning with one hand on the steering wheel and watching her with attention. The next words escaped her again and she was afraid she'd regret it.

- Tom, do you want to come in? - She spoke still holding the door and the boy smiled.

- Sure ... - he said taking the key from the ignition and she shook her head slightly leaving.

He followed her and they entered the building. Tom looked at everything admired which made Y/n smile a little to herself. They entered the elevator and she pressed the penthouse button causing him to raise an eyebrow.

- You really must be a great writer. - he said and she laughed.

He leaned his back against the elevator wall, putting his hands in his pocket and looking her up and down, making her shy. He kept looking at her and it was making her nervous.

They were silent until the elevator opened after a while and they got out. Y/n put a password on the door and it swung open with a small click, she took held the latch and motioned for Tom to enter.

After the two of them entered she closed the door again behind her and watched Tom standing further on, looking around.

- Nice apartment...- he finally said.

- Thank you... - She leaned against the table at the entrance. She didn't know what to do next, maybe it had been a bad idea to bring him here. Why was she so impulsive that night? -Tom, I don't know why I invite you in, sorry...-she said a little nervous looking at her feet. He turned towards her, approaching and stopping in front of her.

- Are you sure you don't know? - He asked and she raised her head, seeing those brown eyes. She bit her bottom lip watching him closely. Damn he knew how to hypnotize her. He took another step and placed a hand on either side of her on the table, cornering her - Your body says otherwise, love... - he said softly feeling her breath hitch slowly and approaching his face to hers, alternating the look of your eyes to her lips. Y/n found another nickname that was perfect when he say.

He finally closed the distance by pressing his lips to hers. His lips were soft and warm, as if they were meant to be kissed. She returned the kiss willingly and when she laced her fingers in his neck, he licked her lower lip slowly asking for passage in which she opened them letting his tongue explore her mouth.

His hands gripped her waist and roamed her body greedily. As he kissed her, he caught her from behind her legs and sat her down on the entrance table, biting her bottom lip shortly after, provoking a low moan from her. He smiled against her lips and trailed kisses to her neck, attacking her skin with desire, making her throw her head back a little.

She grabbed his hair and pulled him back so she could kiss him. Which he gladly reciprocate. His kiss was urgent, but without being rude, he tasted like mint, making her want him even more.

His fingers found the button of her pants and he undid them quickly pulling them out, tossing them aside. When he came back he took her calf and kissed her leg up to her thighs, making her sigh. He moved up the kisses until he caught the hem of her shirt and pulled it up a little, kissing her stomach as well. Y/n didn't know what to do but feel goose bumps with every touch he gave. He then hiked up her shirt and she lifted her arms where he pulled her off, tossing along with her pants that were also on the floor.

She was just wearing her underwear in front of him, it made her a little excited and embarrassed at the same time, but the way he looked at her made her feel confident. He went back to kissing her body, this time kissing each covered breast in turn and reaching for the back of her bra and opening it. She helped him out tosiing to the side and he stood between her legs just watching her for a second, making her feel her cheeks heat up.

- Perfect... - he said with a low voice, as it was for himself and bent down to her breasts kissing each one of her nipples and then sucking them deliciously. Y/n moaned and bit her lip to keep her moans from getting louder, tangling her fingers in his hair again. He looked into her eyes for a few seconds and smiled slightly lowering his kisses to where she wanted him most.

He reached the hem of her panties and pulled them out slowly, kneeling between her legs and she looked at him with expectation. He returned the look and gave that smirk again.

- Look at you darling.... - That damn nickname. - Extremely wet and I haven't even touched you yet... - he said approaching and devouring her right away making her throw her head back with pleasure, biting her lips again to not sound so pathetic with her moans that insisted in wanting get out. - Oh, please don't drown out those wonderful sounds you make, I want to hear how good I'm making you feel. - He said in a husky tone, returning to his task after and she parted her lips letting her moans spread through the apartment.

****************************************************************************************

Y/n woke up the other day in her bed. She didn't even know how she got there, she just had flashes of the night before and how good she felt in each moment. She stretched and looked to the side seeing she was alone. She got up and put on a robe who was on the side of the bed.

After going to the bathroom and doing her morning hygiene routine she walked around the apartment looking around to see if Tom was somewhere else in the house, but found nothing. Which was understandable, it wasn't like she expected him to stay there and have breakfast with her and all.

She arrived in the kitchen and made black coffee and lean against the countertop. What that simple waiter had done to her was ridiculous, in a good sense, she felt great and kept remembering that accent that was stuck in her mind. He had consumed her in a way she had never imagined it she could be.

Taking a deep breath she set down turning her notebook on. Then opened her book and started writing.

#tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #bartender!tom #waiter!tom #tom holland x famous!reader #bartender!tom x writer!reader #tom holland series

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psychewithwings · 3 years

Text

Bitter Taste: Iwaizumi x f/reader Pt. 1

pt. 2 here

THIS IS SO LATE and I’m a fuck up hahahaha (kinda ironic this was 2 weeks late for Mental Health Awareness month)

I am crediting my girl @kuso-deku for giving me Iwaizumi brain rot to begin with. I am also crediting @gixxie and @idonotagreebitch for helping me talk through my ideas... and crediting @doinmybesthere for the wonderful idea of a mental health awareness collaboration the link is here. PLS READ THE REST OF THE WORKS. Everyone deserves the love.

TW: manipulative male/female relationships, gaslighting?, subtle shit head crap that most men do (don’t worry Iwa is a peach as always tho, it’s Ushijima that’s the problem)

Iwaizumi stands and stretches in the cinema. The movie had been good, but long, he figured it was a little after midnight. “What’d ya think?” Kuroo asks as they exit the theatre. “I hated the ending…” Oikawa gripes, “I hate endings where everyone just dies.” “You are such a princess Tooru, I swear, it’s a metaphorical ending… did you not catch all the symbolism in the opening credits?” Iwaizumi sighs and turns his phone back on, trying his best to ignore their bickering. Slowly, notification after notification pops up… all from you. He blinks, surprised. You had declined his offer to join him for the film, stating you had previous plans attending a close friend’s birthday.

Iwa opens the messages from you. He sees first the selfies. You look beautiful, extravagant even. Your dress is beautiful, it compliments your figure perfectly with the corseted bodice. It’s white and so is your lace mask. Broad, feathered angel wings rest on your back. Angelic would have been a word he’d used to describe you before, but now, it was confirmed. He wants to keep staring at the photos but Kuroo and Oikawa are starting to become too curious about the contents of his phone. He scrolls and relaxes his face to look more casual. But it’s hard when your intoxicated messages are so darn cute.

hope the movie is good!

okay so I guess there’s an open bar? Is it my birthday too?

if you wanna come by after the movie I’msure you coul

this partyyyy suckssssssss assssssssss

wish id gon wiht u xx

You are clearly drunk and he laughs to himself before Kuroo peers over his right shoulder. “Well she’s thinking about you at least,” he smirks. Oikawa peers over Iwaizumi’s left shoulder, “ooo play the voice message.” Oikawa taps the message before Iwaizumi can give him an answer.

“Hiiiii Iwaaaaaa, hope you like the moovie and you’re having a good time, cuz I’m having a preetyy good time, they gots free margaritaaass. Okay byeeeee”

The guys laugh and Oikawa presses the next one.

“Hey Iwaaa, I made up a song about you, ready?

Iwaizumi

Doesn’t know what he does- to me…

Sshfhsijknfhahaha I cant remember the rest som’n bout… som’n I dunno. Byeee”

“Okay, Ushi says that I need to say sorry for sending so many…” you pause and then whisper, “drunk messages, but I’as only tellin’ ya I ssink ‘r awesome ‘n you should totally come to this party and hang out with me… you’re awesome, okay byeee”

Oikawa and Kuroo pause and look at Iwaizumi. “Ushi?” Oikawa asks, “like Ushiwaka?” Oikawa’s eyes are narrowed and he gags dramatically in disgust. Iwaizumi nods and walks to exit the theatre. “Wait… that’s her friend who’s having the birthday party?” Iwa grimaces as Kuroo chuckles. “No wonder you’ve had a stick up your ass all night.” Iwa glares at him, “they’re just friends… apparently… I don’t know, she said they’ve known each other for a really long time…” Kuroo claps Iwaizumi on the back. “I think you should definitely go to the party.” Iwaizumi starts to object but the ring of his phone draws attention, and he answers it. “Heyyy you're outta th’moviee, heheeheheha,” you slur. Iwaizumi laughs softly and smiles, “yeah, I’m out of the movie now, are you… good?” There is so much background noise, it almost drowns out your sweet sleepy voice. “I’m soooo good… … I just-” he can hear your voice drop to a drunken whisper. “I’z just hoping to see you today,” you mumble finally.

Iwaizumi can feel his heartbeat quicken, his head reeling. “Oh really?” He plays cool but then instantly regrets it when you give him a serious answer. “Yeah, I was really hoping you’d come to the party, even for just a little,” you murmur. Iwaizumi can’t help but chuckle. You were pretty cute like this, not normally so transparent. You were actually quite hard to read, so sweet but guarded and teasing too. You were a friend of Oikawa’s first and he had met you through him. He’d liked the way you sat cross legged on the couch smiling, chin in your hands while you asked questions and listened to his answers. Your eyes sparkle when you hear something you like, and your face lights up when you talk about things you find interesting.

“Ya don’t have to, I can just see ya another time,” you add. He’s been silent too long which causes him to speak without thinking. “No, I’d love to see you, I’ll head to you now.” Kuroo and Oikawa are silently cheering him on and Iwa turns away in embarrassment. “Really? Okay! I’ll drop my pin… as the kids are sayin’ these days hahaha.” “See you soon, drink some water okay?” “Mhm, I will, see ya soon!”

You were at a club owned by Ushijima’s family. A place called ‘Eagle’s Nest’. He’d only known you for a few weeks but he couldn’t help his infatuation. It was immediate, the night he had gone to Oikawas for game night. You spoke to him so easily not knowing him at all and laughed at his little side jabs to his long time friend. The way you looked at him… Iwa knew then that he wanted to see you smile, hear your laugh, and that he would be happy to assume the responsibility of making that happen.

He was surprised when you had declined his offer for the movie, feeling that you both had some definite chemistry, but Iwaizumi was even more surprised when you had said that you had prior plans with his old time rival Ushijima Wakatoshi. Iwaizumi hadn’t seen him since high school but they knew a few people in common, Oikawa being one of those people. Oikawa could sure hold a grudge but Iwaizumi took all of his comments with a grain of salt. Ushijima often came off entitled and cold, which would leave Iwaizumi with a bad taste in his mouth. Maybe Oikawa had the right idea holding a grudge… But grudge or not he wanted to see you, hear your voice and admire you all dolled up.

When Iwaizumi arrives at the club he is met with a large security guard. “Invitation?” he grumbles. Iwa remains calm but a small trickle of fear runs down his back. Iwaizumi gives the guard a casual smile before he starts to answer but he is interrupted. “Iwaaaaa,” you cry from the top of the stairs. The mask you’d had on is now resting on top of your head, the delicate features of your face now exposed. The floofy skirt of your dress bounces with your excitement as you run down the stairs. You crash into him, throwing your arms around his neck. You bury your face in his collar and still momentarily. Drunk and bubbly, you melt when Iwa wraps his arms around your waist in return, avoiding your costume’s wings. “Mmmm,” you hum, breath hot against his skin, “you smell good.” You pull back and stare into his wide eyes. “You look incredible,” he offers, a slight pink tint to his cheeks. You grin in return and simply take hold of his hand. “He’s with me,” you beam at the guard. Iwaizumi is doubtful this trick will work here. But he is surprised when the guard steps aside saying, “as you wish Miss L/N.” You giggle and pull Iwa towards the doors. “I’ll bring you some cake later, okay Jurou?” Jurou laughs, “just have fun darlin’.” “You’re the best,” you call behind you as you push open the doors. Iwaizumi can’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy knowing that you are on a first name basis with one of the body guards at the Wakatoshi’s club. How close were you with Ushijima?

Blue and purple lights illuminate the vast space while black tiles make up the main floor. The dance floor is sunken, in the middle of the club with a small set of stairs leading down to it. It’s made entirely of glass, beneath is a saltwater garden of different plants and coral.

“You’ll need one of these,” you explain, swiping a simple black mask from the welcome table. You hand it over to him and pull yours down over your eyes. Iwaizumi adjusts it to where he can see. “You look so handsome,” you admire. He grins, “what about you? You’ve got wings!” You laugh and adjust your mask back on top of your forehead. “I’m a swan, and Ushi said I couldn’t be a swan without wings!” You spin for him, trying your best to flap the feathered wings. Small pieces of confetti glitter rain from the skirt of your dress. Iwaizumi takes in your face illuminated by the lights of the club. Blue and pink dancing over your cheeks as you smile up at him. “What?” you giggle nervously. Just a few weeks but he is mesmerised by your everything. He shakes his head and tries to move on. He wanted to tell you how he felt but this wasn’t the right time. It should be when you’re sober, when you can take in his words properly.

You coax him down towards the bar. “You’re sure it’s okay to sneak in uninvited guests?” Iwa questions. “Well, I asked Ushi ‘nd he said it was okay, so yeah!” You grin but notice Iwaizumi’s reserve. “It’s really okay, I promise, let’s just get a drink,” you suggest and take his hand. “Only if you drink more water,” he smirks. You roll your eyes at Iwa, “I drank some water before you got here actually.” You look back at him as you both head down to the bar. “I’ll prolly regret that yurr seeing me like this tamorow, ya know,” you call over the blaring music. “It’s cute, you’re cute,” he assures as he leans against the bar, “I didn’t know you thought about me this much until I saw all the snapchats and voice messages and texts.” You cover your face in humiliation, “I knowww, I’m sorry but you were on my mind a lot, alot alot, and couldn’t stop think about ya, and the booze told me to keep on messaging…” You trail off, finding the last shred of your filter to keep you from talking. The bartender hands you your water and you take a long drink.

“Iwaizumi,” a voice projects over the baseline. Ushijima stands tall advancing towards where you both stand. His expression is neutral though, his eyes keep darting to you and then back to Iwaizumi. Ushijima is dressed as a knight, his silver mask hangs languidly around his neck. “Ushiwaka,” Iwa acknowledges, “this is a hell of a birthday party.” You giggle and point at Ushiwaka, “he’s 28 today; getting sooo old.” In that moment, Iwaizumi watches him do something he had never seen him do before. Smile… and then laugh. Ushijima wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer. “You’re just a baby, you’re only-” You wave your hand in front of Ushiwaka’s face, shushing him. “No, no, Iwa doesn’t knowww, don’t tell him,” you plead. “She’s only 23,” Ushiwaka says. You hold your face in your hands once more and groan. Ushijima pulls your hands from your face, “just barely twenty three too.” You glare at him and look back at Iwaizumi embarrassed. “Did she not tell you her age?” Ushijima asks Iwaizumi. Iwa shrugs, “She didn’t, but I never asked,” Iwa shrugs casually, addressing you now, “didn’t seem important since you carry yourself so well.”

You turn to Iwa, mouth open like you’re about to respond but Ushijima swipes the glass from your hands before you can finish. “Drinking water?” You look up at him. “But it’s my birthday… and this is a party… you need something stronger…” Ushijima beacons the bartender with a single flick of his hand. The barman pours three double shots of a clear liquid from a foreign looking bottle. Ushijima takes a glass and hands it to you, before handing another to Iwaizumi. Ushijima gives him a wink as he loops his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. He raises his glass, the violet lights illuminating the liquid. Iwaizumi follows his lead. “To my Juliet, the belle of the ball,” Ushijima bellows. You smile slightly and shake your head. “No no, to you Ushi, it’s your birthday, not mine, we are celebrating you!” Your eyes find Iwa’s, but you leave your glass raised. Ushijima grabs hold of your hand that’s still wrapped around the glass. “Cheers,” He tips the glass towards your lips and you swallow the clear liquor as he feeds it to you. You down it all in one go and Ushiwaka smiles wide once again. “She’s good, huh?” With that, Ushiwaka clinks his glass to Iwaizumi’s, “to you brother,” he assures. Iwa is surprised with the sudden sentiment. “And to you,” he replies before downing the shot. The liquor is surprisingly smooth, expensive, and strong. Iwa can feel his head starting to get light from the small portion that was in the glass and Iwa wasn’t a light weight. “Strong huh?” Ushijima smirks. Iwaizumi nods then turns to the bartender to signal for a water.

Ushijima turns to where you stand swaying slightly with the music. “Look at her, she gets drunk so easily,” Ushijima smiles. “How are you feeling, princess?” he shouts over at you. Iwa turns away and downs his water in disgust. ‘Princess?’ Ushijima shouldn’t be calling you that if you’re both just friends. You blink and give him a smile and a thumbs up. There was a natural innocence about you, a childlike wonder and curiosity, the embodiment of sanguine. Ushijima’s air was sometimes sinister, like he was taking advantage of your natural trusting nature. Iwa watches as Ushijima’s large hands rest on either of your shoulders and he pushes you back and forth like a pendulum between his palms. You giggle and try to push him away, “Ushi stooopp.” He laughs with you and continues pushing you around, “you’re so cute and small though, see?” He places a hand on top of your head and you still. “I said to stop,” you mumble. “And I did,” he retorts before letting you go.

Iwa watches the sudden weight of gravity find you as you stumble in your heels. He catches your arm just in time. Your arms find their way around his neck once more, your face in the crook of his neck. You pull away and Iwa examines your foggy eyes. “You okay?” You nod, pushing off of Iwa’s chest. You fix your hair, “it’s fine, he just messin’” you turn to Ushijima, “and someone doesn’t know when to quit.” You’re pulled away into Ushiwaka’s arms. He sways you back and forth, your back held against his chest while he says soft apologies. He whispers something to you and you nod. Iwaizumi wanted to pull you away from him. Not because he was jealous, but because the way that Ushiwaka was behaving with you was odd.

“Y/n is a little bit tired, why don’t you join us in VIP?” Iwa smiles and gives his thanks, trying his best to hide his scowl. Iwa follows after you and Ushiwaka, upstairs and under velvet ropes hoping that he will find a good moment to pull you away. But instead you are pulled onto the couch beside Ushiwaka. He lights a cigar and offers one to Iwa, but Iwaizumi declines with a simple, “no thanks, don’t smoke.” It’s strange the way that Ushiwaka keeps whispering in your ear, giving you sips of his drinks, and blowing smoke in your face. “Ushi, stop please, the smell is making me sick,” you whine. But he just pulls you closer to him, chuckling all the while and does it again. You’re laughing and poking his face, but it’s not out of joy... Watching Ushijima interact with you the whole night has been like watching a cat toy with a mouse.

Iwa grimaces when Ushiwaka tickles you. “Stop-stop-don’t-stop,” you giggle and howl. “She said to stop!” Iwa raises his voice. Ushijima’s eyes shoot towards Iwaizumi while you squirm off the couch. Your eyes are heavy as you walk towards a dark hallway and disappear into the shadows. Iwa’s eyes flick to the entrance to the hall. Ushiwaka sits in a contented silence, sipping a drink, “she’s so dramatic,” he sighs. He continues smoking, arm rested over the back of the purple velvet sofa. Ushijima takes a sip of his drink, swirling the ice in his glass. Iwa doesn’t move to break the silence no matter how expectant Ushijima’s expression was. He stamps out his cigar in the tray before addressing him.

“She’s awfully talkative, and incredibly fond of you…” Ushijima starts, an odd smirk painting his expression. Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow in intrigue and Ushijima’s face hardens. “She won’t shut up about you since she met you… it’s annoying...” Iwaizumi, remains quiet, the silence settling over the men like a thick fog. The only sounds are muffled club music and the ice tinkling against Ushijima’s glass. “I’m going to be honest as a friend… bad idea.” Iwaizumi can feel the rage bubbling inside his gut, “I don’t think that what’s going on between us is any of your-” He’s cut off by Ushijima.

“I’m really looking out for you Iwaizumi, girls can break hearts and Y/n is kind of known for that… she’s just a sweet soul, makes friends easily, but love? That’s harder for her… doesn’t have the best taste in men I’m afraid, I want to protect her and you from a situation where I can already see the conclusion… I get that you like her, everyone does.” Iwazumi leans forward, “does that include you?” Ushijima is stone faced, then gives a cold laugh. “You’re funnier than I remember, Iwaizumi.”

Iwaizumi rises and heads towards the hall you disappeared down. If he sat in front of him any longer he was going to say something he regretted… and you still haven’t come back. He slips into the dark hallway as you’re exiting the bathroom. Your mask has been removed and even in the dim lighting you look pale. “Hey, what’s happened?” You look up at him embarrassed, your dress almost as wilted as you are. “Got sick…” you mutter. You’re shaking slightly, arms wrapped around yourself. “Oh Y/n, are you alright?” he sighs. His arm starts to reach for you but he thinks better of it, pulling it back to rest by his side. His eyes widen as he feels the warmth of your hand in his. He didn’t figure that you would want to be touched right now. But your fingers interlace with his, your skin soft. “Are you good to drive?” you whisper. His hand instinctively tightens around yours protectively. “I only had whatever Ushijima gave us, it was strong but I’ve had water- yeah I’m good.” “Would you mind taking me home?” you ask, as you start to walk back towards the VIP room. “Sure, course,” Iwaizumi replies gently. He feels how your thumb brushes over the back of his hand in silent gratitude. The gesture has his heart beating hard against his ribs. Iwa walks forward, his eyes on you and nothing else. Your brow is furrowed and your expression painted serious which was unusual from how he knew you to act.

“Iwa’s taking me home now,” you announce and walk towards the stairs. Ushiwaka’s face hardens, “I can take her home, you shouldn’t trouble yourself,” he addresses Iwaizumi. You smile and turn around facing Ushiwaka. “But Ushi, ‘s ur birthday, you can’t leave this party jus’ ‘a take me home,” You turn to Iwa now. “Let’s go,” you say and Iwa nods, still holding your hand. “Where’s my hug, princess?” Ushijima calls after you. You stop in your tracks and close your eyes, taking in a deep breath. You drop Iwa’s hand slowly, hesitantly. You walk back slowly and stand before his open arms. He lifts you and you groan. You’re still hugging him tightly but not quite with the same intimacy as before.

As Ushijima places you down you turn to look back at Iwa when Ushijima catches your face with his large hand. He coaxes your face back towards him then leans down. Ushiwaka locks eyes with Iwaizumi as he whispers something in your ear. Then he presses his lips to your cheek, still not moving his eyes away from Iwaizumi’s. Iwa tries his best to remain neutral but he can feel his lip creeping upwards in contempt. Ushiwaka is too prideful for his own good it seems.

You take Iwa’s hand again, leading him towards the exit. An exasperated look rests on your face. “What did he say to you?” Iwa asks. You sigh and shake your head. “‘S nothin’, ya shouldn’t worry your pretty lil head ‘bout it.” Iwa can’t help but allow a smile. He raises an eyebrow at you, “think my head is pretty?” he asks. He’s met with your hazy gaze, “I do,” you say simply. Iwa wasn’t prepared for such a straightforward answer to his question.

Once out of the club, the valet pull Iwaizumi’s car around. He’s careful not to let you walk too far on your own. Sick, in those ridiculous shoes and still quite drunk, he opens the car door for you before hopping into the driver's seat. “Will you put your address in?” Iwa hands you his phone and you type it in as asked. “Thanks for doing this,” you sigh. “Yeah of course,” he says as he puts the car into gear. A few streets of city light pass by in silence. Your hands are resting in your lap but your body is still trembling. “I can- umm- pull over if you need me to…” You wave the thought away with your hand, “it was the smell of the cigar more than anything…” Iwa’s gut begins to boil again. Your voice is soft, almost defeated. He speaks before thinking better of it. “Does he always treat you like that?” You look at Iwa and make eye contact briefly before his attention is back on the road. “He was being a little extra weird today, maybe because y’all used to play volleyball together or… I dunno really, he just gets like that sometimes…” You trail off, allowing your thoughts to fade into the rearview. The silence is deafening and you feel the need to break it. “He’s really nice too though, don’t get me wrong, he cooks for me and calls to check in, he even gets me little gifts, so I know he cares.” Iwa shakes his head, “if he cared he would have stopped when you asked him to.” You take a breath, “I know but he was just having a night I guess…” Iwa pulls into your driveway as the GPS notifies him that he has ‘arrived at the destination’. He puts the car in park, “you don’t have to make excuses for him… it’s okay to be angry, if that’s how you feel.” You start to open the door, your fingers on the handle. “I’m not angry though, I’m just kinda hurt.” You open the door and start to get out, “okay, maybe a little angry too.” You laugh to yourself but not out of joy. It’s an ironic laugh and Iwa can hear the pain ringing inside of it. “Let me walk you inside.”

#iwaizumi #iwa #hajime #hajime x reader #iwa x reader #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu #hq #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi hajime #pls protect me iwa

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

Text

A Moment Of Respite Between Struggles

Ted Kord x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 1.3K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: BLUE BEETLE! BLUE BEETLE! BLUE BEETLE! Enjoy my fluff! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

She smiled politely at one of the security guards as she waltzed into Kord Industries, all the way to the front desk where she cocked her elbow on the counter and leaned over, greeting, “Hi—” her eyes drew along the young man’s ID badge. “Mark. Hi Mark!”

He glanced over the rim of his thick glasses smiling at her with a mixture of wonder and surprise. “Wow, you’re (Y/N) (L/N).”

“I am,” she responded, adding, “I’m also your boss’ girlfriend.” With a pout, she explained, “Thing is, we were supposed to meet for lunch, and he didn’t show. So that’s telling me he’s either stuck in a board meeting or he’s down in the labs tinkering around.” (Y/N) winked. “Think you can check where he is for me?”

Mark nodded. “Yes ma’am. Give me just a moment.” He went back to the monitor, clicking away. “It seems that there wasn’t a board meeting scheduled, so let me check the personal labs.” He thumbed an intercom button. “Mister Kord, sir? Are you in there?”

What? A cranky voice spouted from the piece, and she smiled sympathetically at poor Mark who looked so flustered.

“Uh, sir, your girl—uh, Miss (Y/N) is here.”

Oh…Oh no, what time is it?

“It’s a quarter to three, sir.”

Aw crap. I forgot about lunch. Scrambling sounded from the line. Tell her I’ll—

“I’ll meet you in your office, Ted.” (Y/N) interrupted and reached over, ending the call; she smiled at Mark. “And don’t worry about him—I’ll make sure he apologizes for being a jerk before we leave.”

Mark grinned. “Oh, it’s no trouble, ma’am. But, um—” he trailed off and she smiled, waiting for him to gather his thoughts, and he reached into his bag, pulling out a laminated photo. “I was going to attend your expo this Friday.” He placed the photo on the desk, one she recognized as her recent modeling set, and asked, “Would you sign this for me?”

“Absolutely!” (Y/N) flashed him a million-watt smile and pulled a sharpie from her bag, quickly writing a small note and her name in the corner. “Here you go,” she said, handing it back to him, and Mark stared at it like it was gold.

“Thank you, Miss (Y/N)!”

She waved as she walked to the elevators, disappearing inside, and riding all the way to Ted’s office. When she stepped out, he was there, bent on the sofa at an awkward angle, face down, with his left arm curled backwards over his head, the other holding a glass of amber liquid.

She tsked at him. “Day drinking, Ted Kord? What would the masses think?”

He snorted into the cushion. “I’m a billionaire. I’m allowed to day drink without being called an alcoholic.”

(Y/N) giggled and walked over, nudging him in the side as she tossed her bag on the coffee table. “Up. Come on, get up.”

“Don’t make me,” he groaned. “I already feel bad for missing lunch.”

“Then make it up to me by doing what I told you.” She shot back and with a grunt he set the glass down on the floor and pushed himself up, half-heartedly glaring at her; she pinched his nose. “Quit scowling. You’ll get wrinkles.”

(Y/N) wormed her way underneath him, letting her head rest against the arm of the sofa while Ted lowered himself back down, rather contently shimmying against her body.

She threaded her fingers in his light brown hair, scratching his scalp and asked, “What had you so wrapped up this afternoon, Teddy?”

He groaned low in his throat. “Some stupid piece of technology that Boos sent me.”

“Uh huh?” she encouraged.

“And he asked me to fix it, but the damn thing isn’t from this century and there’s so many wires and intricates, and you’d think that with the twenty-fifth century, they’d be able to compact everything, but nooooooo. And now I missed lunch and you’re upset, and I’m annoyed because I still can’t get the damned thing fixed and I’m sorry.”

She merely blinked and dragged her gaze from the ceiling to his head. “How’d you manage to do that much speaking in one breath?”

“I’m best friends with Booster Gold. You learn to talk fast when you’re with him.”

(Y/N) snorted. “That you do.” She sighed and Ted felt it in his chest.

“I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t even see the time.”

“I’m not upset, Teddy,” she murmured, squeezing his shoulder. “I’m more worried that you’re overworking yourself.”

“Not any more than usual.”

“See, that worries me.” (Y/N) inhaled deeply. “Alright, we’re going to try something new.”

“In here?” he flirted, and she slapped his arm.

“Mind out of the gutter, Ted.” She looked around. “Your office is secure, right?”

Ted reached down and fumbled with something in his pocket before making a triumphant noise and retorting, “We are now.”

(Y/N) smiled. “Good. We’ll need privacy for this.”

“Do I still need to get my mind out of the gutter?”

“Yes, you pervert.” She closed her eyes, feeling the power rushing through her veins and she quietly said, “Close your eyes, Teddy.” Her hand skimmed his face, feeling his lids close and she pressed a hand to his cheek. “Now open them.”

Ted cracked an eye open, then blinked repeatedly, wonder filling him as he gazed up at the ceiling of an old, abandoned cathedral, overtaken by nature. Vibrant green grass filled the room, vines curling around the pillars and arches, and the scent of flowers he’d never smelled or seen before, of colors so beautiful, blended along the ground in a wave of pigment.

Soft chirping soothed his ears and the sunlight peeked through the broken stained-glass windows, casting waves of red, orange, yellow, and pink along the ground and over his skin.

It was so calm. So peaceful. So quiet, and an emotion he’d not felt before welled in his chest, overwhelming him with such an intensity that tears filled his eyes.

“Do you like it?” He looked around, then down to his side, seeing (Y/N) sprawled out in a flowy white sundress, a carefree look on her serene face.

“Where are we?” he questioned. “What is this?”

“This is my place,” she replied, still closing her eyes. “I come here when I think I might be overwhelmed with my powers. It’s…my sanctuary.”

“Are we still in this universe or—?”

“We’re in my mind, Teddy.” (Y/N) murmured. “The one place my powers have no control over. The place of beauty still untouched by my telepathy.” She peeked beneath her lashes. “And now I’ve brought you here so you can be at peace with me for a while.”

Ted blinked away the tears and she tugged his shirt. “Lay down.”

He did as she commanded with little resistance, feeling the grass tickle his neck and ears as he laid beside her, his head brushing hers. “It’s beautiful here.”

“It is.” (Y/N) agreed. “I made this when I was being subjected to the experiments that gave me my abilities.” She sighed heavily. “A respite I could take in between horrors.”

“Is time passing by in the real world?”

“Slowly. Every moment here is much faster than those outside. All of this will happen within seconds out there.” (Y/N) turned her head, catching his gaze. “But since you’ve secured your office…why don’t we spend a few minutes here, hmm?” she smiled. “When it turns to night, you can see galaxies peek through the cracks.”

Ted let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, relaxing into the grass, an arm curling around her and he nodded. “Yeah…I think that sounds like a great idea, (Y/N).” Her smile widened as she turned her body, resting on Ted’s shoulder and she felt his lips brush her head as he murmured, “Thank you.”

“Always my dear.”

#ted kord x reader imagine #ted kord x reader imagines #ted kord x reader #ted kord imagine #ted kord imagines #ted kord #blue beetle x reader imagine #blue beetle x reader imagines #blue beetle x reader #blue beetle imagines #blue beetle imagine #blue beetle #dc comics #dc imagines #dc imagine #dc

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widowsofchaos · 4 years

Text

Poor Little Rich Boy

summary: you find out your boyfriend isn’t all that innocent as he seems.

warnings: yandere behavior, violence, and gore. dub-non con. Ya know the filthy vibes.

Pairing: dark college!Tony Stark x black!reader

a/n: this is my first time writing Tony so be gentle with me <3

do not respost my works!

“I, Howard Anthony Walter Stark, being of sound, mind, and body do hereby declare that this document is my last will and testament. I bestow my legacy in the hands of my only heir, my son, Anthony Edward Stark. All my assets, finances, and chair as CEO of Stark Industries are now in his hands.”

Buzz.

A dull silent vibration shook in the confinement of Tony’s jean pocket, pulling him out of his sullen trance. Instinctively ignoring the notification, as he listened onto the blurred words of the lawyer reading his late father’s will.

Biting his lip to contain his swirling emotions -- aggravation to just collect his inherited earnings, and head home to you.

Buzz.

With a hazy eye-roll, Tony casually sneaked his palm into his pocket, retrieving the phone. As the family lawyer droned on reading, aged eyes glued onto the paper; Tony peaked at the screen, with the quick analysis of face ID -- his pupils dilated like saucers.

His nostrils flared, inhaling deeply, his chest heaving -- he gotta get home immediately. An iron grip onto the phone, he roughly dug it back into his pocket, his foot tapping against the carpeted flooring. Antsy.

God, please make time go faster.

Buzz.

His fingers itched to snatch the cellular device, internally screaming for another peak at the salacious cheeky messages.

Messages from you -- photos of yourself seated on his bedroom floor, in only a high-waisted thong, and his custom tailored blazer.

The creamy beige against your buttery smooth bronze skin was divine, Tony swears anything you wear is pulled off with elegance. Your brown areolas are slipping out just a tad bit from the flaps, a hint of what’s awaiting for him.

His cock hardened against the denim fabric, Tony salivates whenever you wear his clothing, his scent imprinting onto your flesh - of you in compromising positions, your neatly manicured fingers inside your panties, rubbing your swollen nub. Biting your plump bottom lip.

Buzz.

Another picture with a text, you were sipping from a glass, his best Scotch, with the typed words, “I miss you. I know my favorite boy is blue, come back home so I can take care of you.” Signed with a kissy face emoji, and a red heart.

You were leaning on your elbows, your bouncy ass in the air, legs bent upward with your ankles playfully interlocked in the air.

The glass of ale leaning downward against your teasing lips, and sultry eyes through the reflective mirror -- Tony’s cock twitched, oh he’s gonna eat you up when he gets home.

- It was midnight, the full moon shining bright in the inky indigo sky -- beaming upon the Stark manor. The white fluorescent solar satellite glistening upon the grand bedroom where two lovers lay satiated in bed.

Rubbing random circles by the pads of your fingertips on Tony’s sweaty broad chest, taming the beast into a purring feline.

“I love you.” Tony’s mild slurred speech infiltrated the serene silence, your nose scrunched up in glee. “I love you too.” you murmured in his neck, a lazy grin stretched on your face.

For hours, Tony, and yourself haven’t left the bedroom, stringing release after release -- letting Tony pinch, pull your hair, bruise, slap, and choke your soft flesh-- that’s what he loves about you, trusting him wholeheartedly with your body, and soul.

A lot of tears of euphoria, and fear of abandonment. Reassuring Tony that you would never leave him, breathy hymns of I love yous in his ear.

It’s been a couple of difficult few weeks, Howard Stark has passed at the age of 74. A fatal car crash taking his life, leaving behind his only son. It was only freshly five months ago that Tony lost his mother, Maria. Uterine cancer - multiple tumors.

Maria Stark, the matriarch of the family, was the light of Tony’s life. Maria was a saint, even at death’s door, she had a positive perspective. You can still recall her calling her tumors fruit bowls of pain - her tumors were the size of miniature melons; grew from the size of strawberries.

And when she died -- the already fractured relationship of father and son deteriorated to ash. Howard started becoming colder, more stricter on his son -- his disappointment fueling by the second.

Clayed into a modernized Narcissus -- guising his trauma with bloviating chatter to impress the little people. Boasting his youthful genius with no shame.

Tony may have been born from the finest cloth, a silver-spoon wedged in his mouth -- but he oozes the work ethic of a blue-collar joe.

Under the molden gait of a promising demigod is a fragile boy -- yearning for affection. A neglected child desperate for attention.

Sending nudes to your boyfriend while he’s attending his dead father’s will hearing -- many would deem that as distasteful -- tacky, even. But, you knew Tony’s coping mechanisms.

Frat parties, drinking excessively to the brink of oblivion, and copious amounts of sex.

Tony was raised in a household, where any emotional turmoil expressed to his father was shot down, except with his mother -- he needs a womanly touch.

He never saw his conquests as ladies, only whores to get his rocks off, but once he laid eyes on you -- sweet, and bubbly -- that little rich boy was a goner.

Succumbing to a dazed half-slumber, Tony’s cell phone rings at the bedside table -- you groaned at the intrusion. Flashing on the screen was Happy’s goofy grin, one of Tony’s closest friends. You mumbled a ‘of fucking course’, Tony cheekily chuckled at your frustration.

“Don’t worry, sweetcheeks. This won’t take long.” With the wisp of a lingering kiss on your hairline, Tony begrudgingly detached himself from you--proudly strutting his naked bare firm ass, picking up his boxers from the floor shamelessly displaying his hung cock, and balls.

“Nice ass.” you teased. Tony snorted, “Nice? Toots, it’s the finest ass. And you love it.” He winked at you over his shoulder, you giggled. Tony’s footfalls faded down the hall, his conversation blurring into the distance. You laid back down, sighing as you stared up at the ceiling, quickly getting bored.

Without Tony to entertain you, you had nothing to do. Maybe I could get a head start on my thesis? Your eyes languidly rolled to the corner of your lids, staring at your opened crumbled book-bag mocking you at the corner of the room, Fuck that. You grumbled.

Mindlessly deciding to get dressed, and search for substance. Hours of unadulterated love-making can take out a lot of energy.

Nimble quiet feet tip-toe down the stairs, covered in only Tony’s wrinkled white button-down, brown statuesque legs gracefully head to the kitchen -- but you halt in your tracks. A dim light seeps from the crack out of an office -- Howard’s former office.

Curiosity overwhelms you, biting down your tongue, you check your surroundings, making sure Tony is nowhere in sight. Earlier in the day, the office was locked -- why is it now open?

Open-palm press against the door, a tiny creak of the mahogany makes you cringe internally. Stealthy you walk into the office, nothing seems to be out of place. Maybe Tony was in here? Fidgety fingers skim against the polished wooden desk, at the corner of your eye, a mess of papers sit idly by.

You pick the papers up, fastly flicking through it. Statements declaring Tony as the new CEO of Stark Industries, royalties, and -- mechanic blueprints?

Your chest began heaving, breaths still choppy fuming out of your nose, your left eye twitched from the stressing bile rising. Here in your hands are the blueprints of a familiar vehicle -- Howard Stark’s car. Descriptive details on the full functionality of the car, why are these here?

Warm palms clutch your shoulders, soothingly rubbing, you flinch by the surprise, “You weren’t meant to see those.” A hot breath fan against your ear, you whimper, his voice sounded husky, menacingly.

Not daring to look him in the eye, frozen in your spot as if the soles of your feet grew roots in the flooring, Tony’s grasp on your arms tighten. “The old man was going to take me off the will. I know he was.”

A chaste kiss on your temple, “As if I didn’t take his shit over the years just for nothing. Blaming me for my mother’s death.” He grumbled against your skin, your blood running cold. There was no remorse in his voice, a hint of satisfaction.

This isn’t the Tony you knew.

A beast of his father’s making.

“Tony - I - I won’t tell anyone, I promise--” Tony shushed your stuttering, his rough hands snaking its travel to your waist, slithering his forearms around your torso, ensnaring you.

“I know, baby. I know you wouldn’t. You’re my good girl.” He spoke in your hair, small lingering kisses on your scalp. Tony was rocking your body back and forth, cradling you -- he can sense your fear.

With trepidation, you held his arms, a little shaky. “Tony, let’s just go back to bed.” Your voice was cracking, this isn’t the man you fell in love with, and you wanted to just run away as far as you can.

“You’re scared of me?” Although it was an intended question, its tone came off as a fact. Indeed you were terrified of him.

“No.” You spat too quickly for your liking. Tony gripped your chin, and twisted your head to face him, “I would never hurt you. I love you. Everything I do is for you.” Your breath hitched, his face was morphed into a sad feral puppy.

“I know. I know you do.” You feigned a weak smile, “I just didn’t think --” you stopped yourself before you vomited any other words. “Do what? Kill?” Tony cocked a brow, with a shit-eating grin. “I did it before. For you.” Tears were forming at the brim of his eyes, your doe-eyes widened, you began squirming in his arms. “Tony, what did you do?!” you shrieked, limbs failing.

Tony’s iron-grip didn’t let up, refusing to let you go, “He wasn’t right for you!” Tony bellowed on the top of his lungs, impulsive rage seeping through, fumbling feet colliding.

Both of your bodies falling to the carpeted floor as Tony tried to restrain your wrists, fumbling feet slipping. A miscalculated misstep sent you, and Tony colliding downward.

Tony’s weight pinning you down. Confusion making your head go dizzy, “What do you mean?” You whispered. Tony smashed his lips against yours, his hands cupping your cheeks, “You know what I mean.” His brows furrowed, gently his forehead on yours, his eyes staring into your soul.

Realization hits you like a freight train, flashes of your ex, the cops alerting you of his disappearance, Tony’s lingering shadow always appearing to provide comfort -- “Brock?” a lone tear trickle down your eye, down your temple, and hitting the carpet below. Tony nodded frantically.

Tony’s lips peppered against your face, your cheeks, your forehead, your eye-lids, your nose, your chin; mumbling affection against your tear-stained face.

It’s been three years since Brock vanished, rumors flew around campus from students believing he killed himself in some remote location, you lost him in the first years of university.

You were grief-stricken, but Tony, being the ever-present close friend lend a shoulder -- then soon, it blossomed into much more.

“Now, it's just us. We can start a new dollface.” Tony sniffled, hot tears drip upon your flesh, “We can start our own family” he rasps, “I can be a dad. A better father.” Your eyes widened at his suggestion.

A family? You both were just shy of twenty-one, and already Tony is mapping out your entire futures. You tried to wiggle out of his grasp, but it was futile.

Tony murmured nonono to your bodily request of escape, chasing clumsy blubbering kisses against your chavile. Your body began to be wrecked with sobs, your chest heaving.

“Don’t cry, baby. It’s better this way.” Tony’s brows were furrowed sorrowfully, his tremor low with ache. “You killed Brock, how could you?! I loved him!” Tony gripped your jaw, painfully his fingers kneading,

“Loved him?! He wasn’t right for you! You need me! I need you! No one is going to love you like I do. I loved you the first day I met you.” Harsh fingers rip off the fabric, exposing your breasts to the elements.

“You’re mine! No one can have you! I will kill anyone who tries to take you away!” Tony’s mouth plunged, fangs nibbling on your nipples, his entire mouth suckling your left breasts.

Tony’s left hand pinching your right nipple, twisting and slapping it roughly. You yelped, shutting your eyes closed. Your skin crawled, Tony’s brown eyes peered at you, dissatisfied that you refuse to look at him.

A sloppy pop echoed, “Look at me!” he slapped you, the crack of it pounding in your ears, the heat of the sting scorched throughout your cheek. Your eyes popped open, watery from the hit, Tony has never once laid a hand on you -- until now.

Nose to nose, “We’re gonna be a family--” one of his hands traveled down to tug down his boxers, his hard swollen cock is man-handled in his palm, you struggled to get away, but Tony clutched your wrists in one hand, and pinned it on the carpet.

Tony spit on your cunt, rubbing it within your velvety folds by the base of his veiny cock, earning a hiss out of you. “You’re going to look so hot swollen with our baby.” Your thighs twitched, Tony roughly forced your thigh to wrap around his torso, positioning himself.

“Please - Tony, please don’t”, you cried, Tony shushed you. Lining himself to your hole, with no hesitation, plunged his cock inside your pussy. You screamed, your back arching, “Feels lovely, right? Feels so fucking delicious - you were made for me.” Tony snarled, biting your chin, his tongue trailing your jawline, pistoning his cock inside you.

Dripping slick smears against your thighs, clenching onto his cock, a broken groan slips from Tony’s lips, “Fuck - yes, do that again.” You were blubbering tears down your cheeks, the inevitable pleasure Tony strings out of you is undeniable.

“You’re so tight, and warm.” He growled in your ear, “I can’t wait to have a baby with you. You all swollen, waddling around with bare-feet. You’ll be a great mother - just like mine.” He whispered, biting on your lobe.

You murmured muffled whines in the crock of his neck, bruising is slowly forming on your hips, fucking you like it’s the last time. Shivers run down Tony’s spine, time slows down.

Sweaty skin slapping against skin spurred him on, taking all of you. Your nails scratch at his palm, still bounding you down.

“I love you.” He whimpered, you bite your lip, refusing to sink into the instinct of saying it back. Tony perked his head up from your neck, growling, “Say it back!” he thrusted his pelvis against you, a cattle wail hit you, “Say -” thrust “it-” another thrust “-back!” his smile falters slow, a bruising touch.

He can see you slowly yielding, small pants of electric euphoria, “No!” you bite back.

Wet lips slant against yours. Your entire body jolting from his unforgiving pace, your back burning slightly from the rug beneath you.

Releasing your wrists, his rough hand find it’s way to your back, hiking you up, squeezing your ass in his fingers, bucking your hips; fucking you onto him, your nails dig into his sculpted back -- scratching for him to stop, but it felt too good.

You’ve become dizzy. Your teeth sink into his shoulder, hoping the pain makes him halt his actions, but it makes him harden inside of you.

There’s no space between you, melting into one, the friction, the heat; the tethers of reality blur into nothing.

“Please - say you love me.” Tony pleaded, his weary eyes sinking into yours. A robbery -- a heart-wrenching robbery of your soul, in an instant, you didn’t see a cold-blooded killer, but the mire of a lost boy.

He slowed down his thrusts, leisure movements, his brown orbs are glossy, “Say it, please.” Tony gently kisses you, not feverish, but you can taste the sweet commitment. Like he doesn’t own you, but he worships you.

“I love you.” you mumbled against his swollen lips, his eyes dilated, rubbing his nose against yours, “I love you” maneuvering your hips, squelching can be heard - sticky as honey, as the pace picked up.

Your fingers grip his soft fluffy hair, his balls slapping against your ass, “I love you, Tony.” You sucked on his bottom lip. He whimpered. His cock was coated in your juices, you can feel the swelling of his balls, and his uneven jerking movements -- he was close.

“Cum for me, baby.” Tony’s eyes were shut, he mewled, “Cum inside me, give me a baby, Tony.” The dam breaks. The window bursts open from a gust of wind, the full moon gleamed upon your sweaty sheen bodies, a howl erupts from Tony -- as the wolf within has been unhinged -- primal, feral fueled lust.

Toothy grin, all fangs lunged for your pulse point, devouring you. Squirted juices spray from you, splashing against his toned stomach, not once stopping, riding through the orgasm. Tony’s tongue peaked out, droplets of your cum sprinkling his mouth.

Your vision turns white, an inhuman scream leaves you, Tony collapses onto you.

He’s trembling, frightened, you massage his dome, “My sweet boy.” Tony sobs into your chest, ensnaring himself around your torso. You hugged him, cradling like a baby, as he cried water-falls.

“It’s okay.” You kiss his head, a lingering one, “It’s going to be alright.”

You’re all he has.

#buckybarnesplumwhore wrote this #tony stark x reader smut #tony stark x reader angst #yandere tony stark #yandere tony stark x reader #dark tony stark #dark tony stark x reader #dark marvel

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il0veyoujk · 3 years

Text

Unusual roommates

Summary: Nefeli (18) is moving to a new house in the middle of the forest in Seoul. The only thing she doesn’t know is that her new home is haunted...

Warnings: Light mention of harsh language

Notes: None

Τhis is a tickle related ff, if you are not interested in it, please keep scrolling

Lots of love Nef 💕

Nefeli was currently peacefully reading a book on her apartment in Daegu. The weather outside was sunny so she was sitting on her hammock swing near her large window, a mug of fragrant hot chocolate on her other hand.

The 18-year-old girl was enjoying her favorite book, Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens to be specific when her phone started vibrating on the glass coffee table in front of her.

She looked at the ID but she didn’t recognize it and her face lit up. She only hoped it was the owner of the house she wants to move to, in Seoul.

You see Nefeli needed to move to Seoul due to her studies as a journalist and she needed a house as well.

“Hello?”

“Hey, are you Nefeli? I am Min Sangwook, we talked some days ago for the house” the voice of an old man around his late 70s echoed the other line, with softness in it.

“Yes, this is me. Anything new about the house?” the young girl asked politely, with a cheery but calm tone. She was trying her best not to give hope to herself. Mr Sangwook had told her that it would be a little difficult for her to buy this house too soon since they didn’t know how long it would take them to find a new one.

“Yes, you can come to sign contracts even today and then stay in the house. We have already found our new home” he explained politely.

Nefeli used all her might not to scream or jump and fall off of her hammock swing. Finally, she was moving to start a new life!

“Thank you thank you thank you thank you! I will be there tomorrow afternoon! Thank you so much!” she exclaimed, the chuckles of the old man as a background.

“Then I guess me and my wife will see you tomorrow then”

“Yes of course! Thank you once again mr Min! I owe you!” she hung up and rushed to her bedroom to pack her things up. She threw inside her huge, red suitcase all her clothes, which were already folded, her jewelry, some photos and room decorations from her room.

She got out of her pocket her phone and dialed the first person she wanted to let her know what was happening, back in Greece where she was raised “Hey mum! You will never guess who called me!”

Next day, afternoon:

Nefeli was currently in her car, driving to the house she was supposed to go to.

One of her favorite songs, Believe In You by Amanda Marshall was echoing the car cabin, relaxing the young girl’s souls and helping her calm down, giving her confidence and self-esteem up.

I believe in you And all I want to do is help you to Believe in you

As the song was coming to an end, Nefeli’s car was entering a dark forest filled with tall, somehow scary trees. It was almost night and the sky had golden and orange near the ground and as the vision was raising the colors were become darker and more bluish.

As the car was moving more into the woods, she spotted an old house, with a nice, wooden balcony. The building was on a glade, in the very middle of the forest, circled my trees.

She wasn’t gonna lie, the house was scary. As the sun was falling onto the walls, weird and terrifying shadows were forming, like they were young lads while the sound of a light, summer breeze was brushing the leaves was mixed with the nice smells of the fresh grass.

Outside of the house, there was mr and mrs Min, holding hands and sitting on the outside couch on the balcony, drinking some really tasty tea and chitchatting. They both seemed really sweet, warm, and lovable people.

Nef parked the car near the house, next to the owners’ car, and grabbed her backpack. As she was walking near the couple, she heard small giggles coming from the walls of the house and she felt shivers running down her spine. Let’s be honest, the house was a little -a lot- creepy and those sounds weren’t the best ones she could hear. I mean, it was an old house, in the middle of nowhere, in the forest, and it was dark outside. How idyllic! Note the sarcasm.

“We are so happy you are here!” mrs Min told me, shaking her hand. She was an old woman, around her early 70s, a little younger than her husband.

“It’s my pleasure” the young girl smiled warmly. “Can we sign the contracts please?” she asked excitedly, making the owners chuckle.

“Sure, here are the papers and a pen, we hope you like the house” mr Min said, smiling nervously.

To be honest, Nefeli always wanted to live away from the town, in the middle of nowhere, not having people and car horns annoying her and unhealthy smoke hurting her lungs, considering the fact she had asthma, and the fresh air of the forest was exactly what she needed. Plus she would live peacefully. The house may be a little creepy, but she could handle that. She didn’t believe in ghosts and all anyway.

She picked up the pen and scribbled on the papers her signature with excitement. However, as soon as she scribbled on the paper, she felt something scribbling on her lower back, making her squeal and giggle.

The old couple looked at her weirdly and she cleared her throat, shaking that feeling off of her mind, thinking it may only be some soft air.

“Do you want us to give you a quick tour?” mr Sangwook asked her, but she kindly denied, wanting to explore her new place by herself. “Alright then, if you need anything you have our phone. I have seen the money you gave us in my bank account, don’t worry about it. Tomorrow morning we will have our furniture moved so as you can have your own here” the man smiled kindly as she opened the car door for his wife to enter and then proceeded to go to the driver seat

“Thank you so much! Have a nice ride!” she waved at them as she was watching them exiting the forest, leaving her alone.

When they were out of her vision, Nefeli turned around to take a glance at the house and she felt shivers running down her spine. It was like the now almost dark sky was swallowing it and it seem more intimidating than before. And that was what she loved more about it. When her furniture arrives, the place is gonna look so vintage!

She took a deep breath and entered the old building, feeling a cold breeze brushing behind her shoulders and the back of her neck, straightening every hair she had on her body. But she still wanted like hell to live there. It was the best place she had ever seen!

She took a step inside the house and looked around. The inside of the living room was all old and wooden. The kitchen was in the same room as the living room and there were three bedrooms and one bathroom. The two bedrooms were simple, with no decoration at all, and the bathroom was white with a blue bath. Nothing special.

She closed the door behind her and set the suitcase on the floor next to her. She roam around the living room, a big grin on her face. Nefeli plopped herself on the couch, lying on her back.

As she took a better glance over the place, she spotted something weird. Hairbrushes, feathers, toothbrushes, and many other things which were usually used for... tickling.

The more she was staring at them the more she was feeling more agitated. The more she was staring at them, the more she was feeling pokes on her sides. Nefeli was probably too ticklish to even look at the tools. She had never experienced them, not even a feather, but she was getting nervous just by the thought. She was super sensitive. Like it wasn’t even funny how ticklish she was, and all of her friends were taking advantage of it. Like, they would poke her sides from behind every chance and when she’d something cheeky they would tickle her. (a/n true stories lmao)

The only thing is that she has never been tickled on her feet, and those hairbrushes were making her feel the most nervous. She knew she was extremely ticklish on her feet, but she had never received tickles there, except some foot rubs which was tickling her like hell, but she was trying her best not to show it because it was caused by her own mother, and she was feeling too uncomfortable.

“Nononononononoo” she squealed and jumped on her feet, grabbing all of them and hiding them in the first cupboard she saw, sighing in relief when they were out of her vision.

Just then she felt jabs on her sides, making her jump and start giggling alone, not knowing why. “Hehehehehe” she pressed herself onto the wall and immediately all the pokes stopped. “What the fuck was that?!” she exclaimed, unable to hide her leftover giggles.

“I guess I need to go to bed, I imagine things” she sighed and walked to the bedroom to change into her pajamas. It was still the middle of August, so she decided to wear her cropped ones. She set all her clothes into her new closet and plopped on the bed, pulling the sheets up to her shoulder, drifting to sleep.

Some hours after that:

It was the middle of the night and everything was peaceful outside. Nefeli was sleeping on her bed, dreaming about her new house and how she is gonna decorate it when something woke her up.

Something feeling like she was being... tickled... on her knees.

Nefeli shot up and started kicking on her bed, trying to get that feeling vanished but she wasn’t doing much. She was only able to laugh and laugh and laugh and nothing seem to work to make the feeling stop.

“Whahahahahat ihihihihis thahahahahat?!” she yelled in-between her laughter. The mysterious touch was now moving behind her knees, digging there, making the poor girl throw herself back on the mattress and laugh loudly. Thankfully no one could hear her.

With all her strength, in a shift move, she sat up and reached down to the spot which was being tickled, only to grab... nothing!

She started feeling worried and weird and even scared. “Nahahahaha! Stahahahap” she laughed. However, it came out more like a command than amusement.

Lemme give you a fun fact about Neffie. When she says stops, and she means it, you always can understand that. It will come out as a yell and not as laughter. And trust me, she is able to scare someone with that tone.

As soon as she said that, all the tickling stopped and she heard giggles filling her room. A knot formed in her stomach as she heard those giggles. It was like ghosts were mocking her! ‘Is the house haunted?!’

Just as she thought that a boy appeared in front of her, with small eyes and a gummy smile, winking at her, and then vanished.

Nefeli’s eyes widened and screamed loudly, hiding under the sheets fastly, having a panic attack. She curled up in a small ball of herself, trying to protect herself from possible tickles, but nothing came.

Instead, she felt sleep circling her and her nerves relaxing. It was really weird how fast she felt sleepy in the middle of a panic attack, but she couldn’t help it. She felt an arm rubbing her lower back, helping her sleep more relaxing and without any more disturbing or fear at all.

Just as she was ready to fall asleep, she heard a heave voice whispering in her ear “Goodnight Neffie” and with that she passed out, sleeping sweetly.

Next afternoon:

Her furniture was finally here and the old one was moved to Choi’s house and Nefeli was over the moon. She had already decorated her room with her favorite posters of her favorite band like Three Days Grace, Arctic Monkeys, and Linkin Park, she had set her bookcase in her room, next to the door, and placed small, fairy lights on her books, photo frames of her and her family and her friends on the window sill, her couch and armchairs in the living room, near the fireplace, and her favorite hammock swing on the balcony.

The young girl was currently sitting on this specific swing, continuing the same book she was reading two days ago, the day mr Sangwook phoned her. She had a faded memory of what had happened last night, believing it was a weird dream and she decided to continue her life without it messing her head.

The weather had started getting a little chilly so she was wearing her fluffy, grey socks and her black sweatpants along with a light hoodie jacket, along with a cub of mint chocolate chip ice cream on her lap.

Nefeli was on the part of the book where Sikes beats Nancy to death in a fit of rage when she heard whispers coming from her behind her. She turned her head, with fear running in her veins, to see who was there. However, behind her was only the wall.

She picked up her phone and dialed mr Min’s number, waiting for him to pick it up. The whispers were keeping going and the blood in her veins was turning cold as the seconds were passing by.

“Hello?” the old man picked up the phone faster than Nef expected.

“Hello, mr Sangwook? It’s Nefeli” the young girl said and everyone could notice the nervousness in her voice.

“Nefeli? Is everything alright?” he asked worriedly, expecting her to say something like a wolf is in her house or something like that.

“Um, I wanted to ask you if everything is alright with the house. Because I can hear weird whispering of giggles coming from the walls since I moved in” Nefeli explained, looking around her to understand who was whispering.

“Oh yeah, I understand what is happening. You may see some mice in the house, don’t worry, it’s not people” mr Min explained and Nefeli sighed in relief. She is not afraid of mice and she believes they are cute. And she knows they are making weird noises, so she believed it.

“Okay, thank you! Have a nice day!”

“You too Nefeli! And if you need anything, don’t hesitate to call us!”

They hung up and Nefeli, returned to her book, humming on Still Loving You by Scorpions.

She raised her vision to take a glance around the trees and her heart melted. The peaceful silence of the forest, the birds’ singing mixed with the light breeze which was brushing against the summer leaves was sending her into what felt like heaven.

All that she ever wanted was silence. Nothing else. Of course, she likes being with people, communicate, having fun, partying, and all, but when she is home, she just wants to be alone, in silence, doing whatever she wants. And this house in the middle of the forest was like his paradise.

She was ready to turn to the next page when her phone started vibrating next to her. She picked it up and it was her best friend, Zoe who was calling her.

“Heyooo!” she cheered happily and placed the book on the glass table next to her, not forgetting to mark the page she was at.

“You are coming over for a coffee and I am not taking no as an answer” her friend playfully commanded, making Nefeli mentally giggle.

You see Zoe was a childhood friend of Nefeli, but she had moved to Seoul some years ago. They were always meeting when Nefeli was coming there or Zoe was returning to Daegu.

“Okay, I will be there in fifteen minutes” Nefeli smiled and before she could, Zoe had already hung up. She rushed to her car, pulling out and driving to her friend’s house.

The car drive was short and fast. The roads were surprisingly almost empty and the music from her radio was the only thing she could hear. Bang Bang by Monophonics was echoing the car cabin and she was murmuring the lyrics.

However, the only thing which was in her mind was the giggles. She couldn’t believe that those giggles were coming from a mouse. Something was up with that house, but she couldn’t find what.

One thought crossed her mind. That the house was haunted. But she couldn’t believe it. Nefeli doesn’t believe in ghosts, supernatural things, next lives, and all. She believes only in what scientists can explain and only in what she can see or touch. So there was no way she would believe that the house she was living in was haunted. ‘Nonononono, something else must be up here’

She was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn’t notice the tall, blond girl who was waving at her from the edge of the road.

Nefeli pulled over and rushed out of the car, into her friend’s embrace, a wave of happiness feeling her.

“I missed you so much!- I missed you too!” they said in unison and then burst into laughter. They had so much time to spend some time together. “Let’s go inside girl” Zoe threw her hand over Nef’s shoulders and they both went inside the house.

After 30 mins:

“And I hear weird giggles and whispers from the house!” Nefeli had finally finished with the storytime and the two girls both took a ship from their hot chocolates.

“Wait, you mean you live at the house of the Hysterical Ghosts?” Zoe asked more seriously than ever, looking straight into Nef’s eyes like she was the teacher and Nefeli was a student.

Nefeli couldn’t help but start giggling hard. “The what? That’s the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard Zoe! What in the world is that now?”

The blond girl rose an eyebrow at Nefeli and stared at her in disbelief “You mean you don’t know the thrill of the town?” Nefeli shook her head, unable to contain her giggles. She believed that her childhood friends would know her better than that.

Zoe sighed and moved closer to the young journalist “It said that seven lads were living in that house some years ago. When they would come to the town, no one would talk to them and people would always be afraid of them. It was believed that they would torture innocent people just to have fun, that’s why every time someone would pass by that house, they could hear hysterical laughter coming from inside. It is said that it was their laughter of amusement. The locals still say that they were all killed by a young boy who was to be tortured by them and that the house is still haunted by their spirits”

As soon as Zoe was finished, Nefeli’s jaw was on the ground. To be fair, she absolutely and completely LOVES those types of stories. She doesn’t believe in them, but they are so interesting and they are fascinating the 18-year-old girl really much.

“Omg! Really?! Dude, this is the best myth I have ever heard!” Nefeli yelled in excitement, bouncing on the couch.

She was gonna write a story about it, for real. Nefeli has an account on Wattpad and she is posting her stories and this myth about the ‘Hysterical Ghosts’ was giving her inspiration.

However, as soon as Nef saw the clock on the wall, her eyes widened. It was near the time of the Curfew and her house was 15 mins from there.

“I have to go, I don’t wanna pay a fine because of Corona” the young girl laughed and collected her things to get out of her friend’s house, Zoe following close behind her.

“See ya later! And be careful of the ghosts!” Zoe remind Nef, not joking at all, which only made Nef giggle and shake her head. “Yeah, the ghosts are gonna eat me” she smiled and Zoe sighed. “I am being serious, be careful”

“See ya later Zoe”

“See ya later Nef”

And with that the young journalist drove away, going back to her new house.

The drive back home was silent. For the first time in her life, Nefeli didn’t need to listen to some music. However, what her friend told her about the ghosts couldn’t leave her mind. She wasn’t believing it, but something deep inside her was scared. Like, all those nonsense about ghosts was completing this weird puzzle.

‘What if I am indeed living in a haunted house?’ she asked herself, continuing driving, talking to herself driving the whole ride.

Suddenly the thought of her new house is already owned by those ghosts started scaring her. Especially the specific ghosts. Boys who were torturing innocent people for their fun. And now their spirits were haunting every new owner who was staying in this house. She felt shivers down her spine but tried to brush them off of her mind ‘C’mon Neffie, you don’t believe in this, no one has ever proved that ghosts exist, you have never seen one, don’t let a stupid myth scare you’ she kept trying to calm herself down.

She entered the forest and immediately a weird and tingling aura surrounding her, straightening all the hairs on her body. Like the whole area was... enchanted... It was like she was being followed by something eerie. And that the forest locked when she entered

However, she shook it off and continued driving, trying to forget about what Zoe told her.

She pulled out next to her new home, having almost convinced herself that her friend was saying only nonsenses. She got out of her car, opening her phone to scroll through Instagram, her back still on her shoulder.

She got out of her black backpack her keys to open the door, still feeling that tingling on her spine, but trying to ignore it.

She opened her door and immediately she froze, letting her bag falling on the ground, her jaw along it. On the couch, there were three boys, their feet on the table in front of it, and four others were sitting crossed legs... on the air!

All the heads snapped towards her with shocked expressions on their faces. The four ones who were on the air fell on the floor brutally, and the rest of them shot up from their seats, looking at the girl with their mouths wide open.

“Um hi?” the tallest one, who was now on the floor, said, coming out more like a question than a greeting. He had dirty blonde hair and brown eyes.

Nefeli let out an incredibly loud scream and rushed out of the house, trying to make it to her car. She was ready to grab the handle of the car door when she felt two strong arms being wrapped around her waist and being carried back to her house.

The young girl started screaming loudly and thrashing around, trying to get out of the grip “No! Lemme go! Please! Don’t hurt me!”

The strong grip put her down on the couch, not even caring to take in mind her protests. The lad placed her down on the couch and sat next to her with a cold expression. He was a short guy, with small eyes and cute lips. His eyes were dark brown, his hair had a mint green color and pierced ears.

A nice, a little taller boy with light brown hair and dark brown eyes kneeled in front of her, placing his hands on the couch, smiling softly yet worryingly.

Nefeli pushed herself on the back of the couch, as another boy with black hair and dark brown eyes sat next to her, equally short as the one on her other side. He had the same smile the one in front of her had, his ears pierced as well.

She had a terrified expression on her face, bringing her legs on her chest, hugging them tightly, and looking at all the boys who were circling her, everyone with the same shocked yet anxious expression on her face. She had started believing what her friend told her some minutes before and she was really scared.

“Please don’t hurt me, I’m begging you, I’ll do everything you’ll tell me, just please don’t hurt me!” she yelled, and placed her head n between her knees.

“Hurt you? Why would we ever hurt you?” a boy with red hair and dark brown eyes, with pierced ears and tattoos on his hand asked confused, with puppy dog eyes.

Nefeli rose her vision and looked at all seven of them, ready to burst into tears “Y-you won’t?”

The boys looked at each other confusingly, like Nefeli was telling them the weirdest thing “Of course not, why would we?” another one asked, with large shoulders and weird-shaped finger, blond hair, brown eyes, and a deeper.

“Don’t tell us you believe what everyone says about us...” another one said, with black hair and brown eyes, equally tall as the tattooed one, a hurt of disappointment and hurt in his voice.

“H-How do you k-know?” she shuttered, still not uncurling herself from the small ball she had formed herself. She was feeling truly afraid. Whatever she thought wasn’t existing, was now in front of her, talking to her like they were alive.

The lads shared a look and sighed deeply. “We are not going to hurt you, don’t worry,” the short, smiley one said, sadness taking a place on his smile and voice.

“Who are you?” Nefeli asked, gaining some confidence, but still hiding behind her legs.

“What do you wanna know about us?” the tallest one asked, seriously, trying to hide his emotions behind a stern voice. Nefeli was taken aback by the sternness of his voice and pressed herself more on the cushions on her back, making everyone understand they were scaring her.

“Namjoon, don’t scare her!” the sweet one in front of her scolded the tall, whose name is apparently Namjoon, and then turned to her with a soft smile, rubbing her leg.

And Nefeli surprisingly didn’t flinch.

“We are not what people think Nefeli, we never hurt people, neither physically nor mentally. We could never” he said, his eyes sparkling and screaming honest.

How could she trust them tho? She didn’t even know if they were real or if she was dreaming again. Wait- Was that indeed a dream she had had last night? Or was it them? What the hell was going on?

“Then?”

“We just wanted to make people happy! I mean, I am sure you have already understood and you know we are ghosts, I guess” he said, while everyone else remained silent.

“Who are you? What do you want from me then?” she asked, earning glances from every boy.

“I am Hoseok,” he sweet boy in front of her said “This is Yoongi, then Jimin” he pointed to the short ones “Jungkook, Taehyung” he continued with the red-haired one and the deep-voiced one “And then Namjoon and Jin” he finished with the tallest one the boy with the large shoulders and smiling softly at her, his sweet lips and nose making her melt.

“Call me Jin” he smiled warmly at her, giving her a feeling of hospitality and love. She smiled back and nodded her head

“And we don’t want anything from you Nefeli. We just live here as well as you” Namjoon explained with cute eyes sparkling.

However, except for melting, that made her more upset. There was no way Nefeli was gonna live in a haunted house. Especially with ghosts! Like, no! She bought that house because she wanted to be alone! Not because she wanted to live with freaking ghosts!

“B-But I moved here because I wanted to live by myself, not with seven um... boys” she was feeling weird to say in their face that they were ghosts. It was not polite.

“Don’t worry about it, we are not gonna have any communication if you don’t wanna! We don’t wanna be a burden to you” Jimin assured next to her.

Nefeli immediately felt really bad. It was like she was feeling like she was stealing their home. Where they had lived their life! Where they had spent and they still spend memorable moments. And they weren’t the ones who people were said to be. She could see it in their eyes. The moment she got terrified they were gonna hurt her, the sadness that filled their eyes and faces cannot be described with words. It was sure they could not even hurt a single ant, how could they hurt the young journalist? They couldn’t.

“No! You are not a burden to me!” she semi-yelled and sat crossed legs on the couch, holding a pillow.

How could she make them feel like that? It was terrible! She shouldn’t have said that! It was so mean...

However, the next words shocked her...

“Of course not, you are a burden to us” Yoongi hissed next to her, and then he vanished, leaving an unbearable silence behind him, filling the room.

Nefeli was beyond shocked, even tho the boys didn’t seem as much as her.

“I um...” she tried to say something but nothing came out. She was unable to. No one had ever talked to her like that. What had she done now?

“Don’t worry Nefeli, you are not a burden. He is just um, emotionally attached with the house” Jungkook explained, playing with his fingers, not daring to look at her.

And she only nodded. Like she could do something else...

“Ahhh, I think I may go and calm him down a little” Hoseok said, looking at the ground, “Sorry for that sweetie” and with that he vanished as well.

“Nefeli don’t worry, we are not gonna have much communication with you, you can have your life, and we can have yours” Namjoon explained and they all vanished, except Jimin.

“If you need anything, you can always call us, we will be around” he smiled and left too, leaving her more confused. ‘I guess I just found my new roommates...’ she sighed and went straight to bed.

Next morning:

Nefeli woke up from hysterical laughing coming from... nowhere... And then it hit her. The boys.

She looked at her clock and groan in frustration. 10:26 in the morning. Nefeli was the hugest sleepyhead on the whole wide universe and she was planning on sleeping till midday, however, the boys had other plans.

She got up from her comfy bed and got inside her bathroom to do her business. She applied lotion on her skin and brushed her teeth before she goes to the kitchen to make some vanilla caramel tea. However, the laughter didn’t die down. It was being kept going. Sometimes some giggles, sometimes hysterical laugher. Sometimes loud, sometimes quiet. Sometimes hiccupy, sometimes airy. Sometimes normal, sometimes hoarse. But it never ended.

She was putting some honey in her tea, when it died down, making her relieved. Finally, her ears could rest. Too much noise for so early in the morning. She hoped that now she lived alone she could have the quiet she wants. But no...

However, she did not want to give in and leave the house. She didn’t have the money anyway. So she was stuck with them.

She turned around, taking a ship from her hot tea, only to spill it out in shock. Jungkook was standing behind her, ready to grab a glass of the cupboard, all red, sweat dropping off of his forehead and drained tears on his cheeks, as a grin was forming on his face. “What the hell?!” she yelled, almost dropping the mug.

“Oh I am sorry Nefeli, I didn’t mean to scare you, I just wanted some water, I am a little tired,” he said casually like he didn’t just appear out of nowhere.

“I am sure you are” Nefeli mumbled jokingly and took a sip from her tea, smiling softly. She didn’t mind the tickling, the laughter, and all, at all, she just wanted her sleep back tho.

Jungkook smirked and walked past her, to the sink to pour some water. Nefeli grinned widely and drank some more, enjoying the sweet flavor. But she didn’t have too much time to swallow properly because the mug was being grabbed off of her hands, placed on the table, and she felt hands kneading fastly her sides, making her scream and then fall into hysterical laughter, trying to pry the fingers off of her, without success of course.

“NAHAHAHA!” she cried and fell on the ground, kicking the air, laughing loudly.

“Hmm, jackpot” Jungkook teased, kneading faster but softly her sides and bringing his face closer to hers, smirking from ear to ear. He was clearly enjoying that. And it would be a major lie if Nef would say she wasn’t enjoying that too.

“PLEAHAHAHAHASE!” Nefeli tried to grab his wrist, but every time he would move his hands higher or lower her sides, driving her crazy.

She was rolling on the floor, rosy cheeks and a huge grin on her face as she was kicking the air and was trying to stop the fingers. However, she was doing it in a way where she wasn’t really stopping him. It wasn’t like she really wanted him to stop.

“Looks like someone is more ticklish then” Jungkook winked at her, bending down fastly and blowing a short raspberry on her side, making her scream even louder. One more positive thing about that house; no one could listen to her shrieks.

Jungkook proceeded and pinned her arms above her head, doing the only one thing which tickles her more than anything; he nibbled on her lower ribs and all the way up.

The lad continued nibbling on her hypersensitive ribs for good 5 more minutes before he decided to show some mercy on her. Jin pulled away from Nefeli smirking, leaving her panting and curling up in a small ball of herself, panting and leftover giggles escaping her mouth.

“Now you are tired as well” he chuckled and stuck his hand out for her to help her stand up.

“Good morning to you too um...” Nefeli dragged her sentence, trying to remember his name, with no success tho.

“Jungkook, I am the youngest out of them” the boy smiled softly.

The silence which followed was uncomfortable, with a hint of comfort. They were standing awkwardly, mug and glass on hands, but the atmosphere was merely. The silence was taking away all the ghost tickles away from Nefeli and was making Jungkook calming down.

Nefeli could still not believe what was happening. She was living with seven ghosts... Some hours ago, she wasn’t even believing in them and now she lives with 7. It was like she was in another universe, with all the paranormal things she had seen in Supernatural. The next thing she was expecting to see was Dean Winchester approaching her. But she kinda loved it. It hadn’t even been 24 hours since she had met them and she was already feeling okay with that and she was enjoying it.

“And what do you think you are doing?” a heavy voice broke the silence and her thoughts, making both their head snap towards the direction where it was coming.

The figure which was standing there sent shivers down Nefeli’s spine as these cold brown eyes were piercing her warm, chocolate ones. The polar glare was hiding an icy breeze behind it and his gaze was towering her, even tho the lad was short. Yoongi was standing there, glaring at both the poor girl and his friend, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“I didn’t see you there Yoongz,” Jungkook said casually, not meeting his gaze tho.

“I think we promised not to have any communication with her!” he growled, pointing a finger at Nefeli who was already feeling too bad. What had she done? Nothing. If she knew they were living there, she wouldn’t have come. And she never pressed or even asked them to talk with her.

“Calm down dude, I just came to drink some water” Jungkook tried to defend himself, even tho he knew Yoongi’s opinion. And he knew there was no way he would change his mind.

“And you were tickling her!” the shirt boy pointed out, his eyes burning. However, they were hiding something else behind that cold mask. There was sadness and hurt behind them. Like, he was missing something.

Nefeli didn’t dare to say anything. She was simply standing in the middle of the two lads, watching them arguing, feeling worse than ever. She could understand he didn’t want her there, and she was feeling too bad that she couldn’t do anything about it. She didn’t have the money to move again, and she definitely wasn’t wheeling to chat with Yoongi. It’s not she was afraid or something, no. It’s just that she didn’t know what to say. She would probably do something wrong and she would make him more upset. And that’s something she never wanted to.

“Jesus dude! We were just messing, chill!” Jungkook complained from behind her, making Nefeli feel even more uncomfortable.

Yoongi narrowed his eyes and then turned to the young girl’s direction, not moving from his spot. His gaze tho was enough to send new shivers down Nefeli’s spine.

“You” he pointed again at her “Are not gonna destroy everything! I was tryna hard to forget! You didn’t come here to ruin it!” he raised his voice, widening his eyes, making him look like he was ready to attack Nefeli. And with that, he vanished.

If we say Nefeli wasn’t taken aback by his tone, it would be a lie. She wasn’t expecting Yoongi to talk to her like that.

“What did he mean?” Nefeli asked curiously, unable to understand the young lad.

Jungkook sighed and set his glass on the kitchen counter, running his hand on his face. He sat on the couch, patting the space next to him for Nefeli to sit.

“Yoongi had a sister around your age,” Namjoon said, as everyone appeared behind her, except Hoseok, and Yoongi, making Nefeli flinch.

“Seriously you guys need to stop popping out of nowhere” she chuckled nervously as sat crossed legs on the couch next to Jungkook, everyone else taking a seat around them “And where is that girl now?”

The lads exchanged looks and sighed deeply, with hurt in their eyes and voice. It was sure that something was up with this girl... She probably had hurt Yoongi too much or they weren’t on good terms and they were fighting a lot. Nefeli doesn’t have any siblings but she knows how it feels to fight with your siblings. All her cousins have siblings and they are always fighting.

“Yoongi and Haeun were really close. She was a really shy girl and really ticklish as well. Yoongi loved to play fight and tickle with her. When he was with Haeun, he was a completely different person. Yoongi was tickling her to tears almost every day. It was their thing. He was so protective and caring for her. We weren’t close with her, because Yoongi was afraid that any of us would fall in love with” Namjoon chuckled at the memory, whispered loud enough for us to hear. His voice was cracking and a soft smile was playing on his face.

“However, one day everything changed,” Jimin said, taking a serious look “One day their house caught fire. Everyone managed to get out, except her. Yoongi tried to get in to save her but failed. They found her inside the house charred after a few days. From that day on, Yoongi could do nothing but cry. She cried for years, blaming herself for not being able to save her. And that’s why he got mad at Jin tickling you. He remembered Haeun”

“Hey! It wasn’t me!” the oldest one complained and all the heads snapped towards him “It was Kook!” he pointed at Jungkook who just rolled his eyes and ignored him “Whatever”

“Remember the hysterical laughter you friend was talking about?” Taehyung asked, ignoring as well his older friend, and Nefeli with confused and still wide eyes nodded “It was hers”

Nefeli felt her heart breaking into tiny pieces. It was so sad that a young person had suffered so much in his life. And even sadder that an even younger person lost her life in such a torturous way. Yoongi wasn’t the kindest boy she had ever met since yesterday, but she of course never wanted him to be hurt at all.

“One day though, we had decided to go on a trip to Berlin to help Yoongi snap out of it a little” Jin looked at her ready to burst into tears “The plane crashed. We all died. Since then, we promised ourselves that we would make people happy and smiling. Like Yoongi would want Haeun to be” he let some crystal tears roil down his cheeks but whipped them fastly with the back of his wrist, sniffling a little. “This house you are living right now is his old home, where she died and their parents rebuild them someday after that. The owners you met are their parents”

“We chose to live here with them because of Yoongi” he explained, looking at Nefeli dead in the eyes.

Nefeli’s eyes widened in shock and felt something inside her falling. This was the most sorrowing thing she had ever heard, but at the same time, she was feeling like she was living in a house which somewhen was filled with love. Yoongi’s love.

“And what happened to the girl? I mean you are all ghosts, they must have been reunited!” she exclaimed, bouncing a little on the couch, ready to cry as well.

“Nefeli it’s not that simple” Namjoon place a hand on her shoulder and sat down next to her “When you become a ghost you live inside someone’s love. But when the person who loves you the most dies you are vanishing forever. So when Yoongi died... We tried hard to bring her back. We really did. But we didn’t manage anything. He lost her forever, and we couldn’t do anything about that”

Nefeli couldn’t help but let the salty tears roll down her now rosy cheeks. She was feeling really bad. Like she had stolen and burn those memories from Yoongi. How could she be so mean? Of course, it wasn’t her fault, she didn’t know that, but she was feeling like it. Like she was so cruel...

“So that’s why he acted like that...” she whispered in realization and everyone nodded “I-I am so sorry, I didn’t know that. It’s all my fault, I think I need to move with my friend until I find a new house,” she said playing with her fingers. Of course, she didn’t want to live in this place, but she couldn’t stand the idea of making Yoongi feel really bad and sorrowful.

“Nononononononoo, it’s not your fault, please don’t think like that!” Taehyung sat in front of her, taking her hands in his own “Nothing is your fault, you couldn’t know about us. And you don’t have to move with your friend. We all know you like living away from town. Please don’t blame yourself about anything!” he smiled sweetly at her, trying to convince her with his eyes to stay

Jin smiled softly and pulled her in for a hug, her back on his chest “Don’t worry, there’s nothing you can do. We will try to convince him to at least be a little nicer to you. And you are not going anywhere!” he said as Nefeli snuggled onto him, making her giggle.

She felt really good in his embrace. Like everything was better. The boys were looking at her in awe and she couldn’t help but blush but she was feeling good. The boys really wanted her to stay with them. They didn’t have someone to talk with. Someone to play with and have some fun. When they were going out of town, everyone would recognize them, so they had to steal whatever they wanted from Yoongi’s parents or from stores.

But now Nefeli wasn’t seeing them as ghosts, but as normal boys. Her friends. And she wasn’t afraid of them anymore. She was feeling nice like she could trust them.

They stayed like that for almost two minutes, in comfortable silence, before Nefeli decided to speak again “Well... I guess we can spend some time together every day if you want as well” she said shyly and blushed a little as everyone’s face lit up and they rushed on them hugging her tightly in a group hug.

At least Yoongi wasn’t there to see them... He would feel really bad and even worse, get mad. And that was something Nef didn’t want at all...

A few days after:

Nefeli and the boys had created a nice bind. They would eat all together and have movie nights almost every night. The boys were making Nef laugh really much and they would usually tickle her, only when Yoongi wasn’t near tho. They knew it would upset him.

However, Yoongi never appeared. And that was making Nefeli really sad. How she wishes she could talk to him. Learn more things about him and have fun with him as well. But he didn’t want the same things as her. He was always cold towards her.

However, today was a different day. Today all the boys had gone out God knows where and she was alone. Nef wasn’t feeling good tho. She was feeling really down. She wanted to cry but she didn’t know why. It was one of those days where she wanted cuddles and some cheering up but nothing had happened.

She was currently sitting on her bed, crystal tears rolling out of her eyes and down her puffy, now rosy cheeks as some Three Days Grace music was playing in the background. She was curled up in a small ball of herself, burying her face in the pillow.

Suddenly she felt a hand rubbing her back affectionately, making her breathing relax.

“Tae please, leave me alone” she sobbed and snuggled more into her pillow.

However, the voice which rang in her ears wasn’t Tae’s. It was a voice she would never expect to hear again. It was the same voice she heard that night when something was tickling her knees and then whispered goodnight at her. It was the same heavy but sweet voice.

“Why are you crying?” that voice tho was familiar to her from somewhere else. And she couldn’t make the connection then, but now she could. And she was beyond shocked.

She turned around and with her watered, red eyes she saw Yoongi sitting there, trying to calm her down, the same serious expression on his face, and completely taking Nefeli by surprise. You cannot blame her for not expecting Yoongi to be there.

“Wha- Why are you here?” she sniffled, rubbing her eyes and sitting crossed legs in front of him, clutching on her pillow tighter.

“I asked something, why you are crying?” he asked, scooping closer to her. And she didn’t move...

She sighed and looked down on her lap, playing with her fingers “I-I don’t know, I felt like crying, I am sorry, I didn’t want to upset you”

Yoongi sighed as well, taking her hand in his larger one, shocking Nefeli once again. He was showing her his soft side for the first time in so many days he was being rude and arrogant towards her.

“The boys told me that you know,” he said, making her raise her vision, looking at him with her big, doe eyes. “You remind me so much of her, the same hair, the same eyes, the same height... the same spots, you are almost exactly like my Haeun” his voice broke when he mentioned his sister, making Nefeli wonder whether he could help him or not. Whether her presence there was helping him or upsetting him more. “They also told me how you are feeling. And I am so sorry about it. But it was really hard for me to control it. When I saw my parents moving away I felt like a part of me was being uprooted from within me. Then I saw you. You look so like my sister that I felt like you were replacing her here. And I got really mad. I thought that if I were discourteous with you, I would think less about her. But I was wrong. The more I was being rude to you, the more I was feeling bad. And when Namjoon and Jin told me how you felt guilty and you wanted to move again, I- Nefeli I am so sorry. Please don’t leave!” Yoongi’s tears rolled down his cheeks, as he pulled Nef in for a tight hug, rubbing the back of her head and her back soothingly.

“Yoongi please don’t cry, everything is alright, I won’t leave!” she was really taken aback by his sudden action of affection and softness. He never expected him to apologize to her like that. And in such a short time. It had passed only some days since she moved in and it was the first time Yoongi was sweet and kind towards her.

Yoongi felt like he had gone so harsh on his own sister. Looking straight into Nefeli’s chocolate brown eyes, he could see Haeun looking back at him. And he understood that the young journalist wasn’t responsible for anything. He couldn’t stop anyone from having fun and messing with each other, tickling each other and laugh together. He was just missing those moments and he was jealous he couldn’t have them anymore with his sister.

Nefeli and Yoongi stayed cuddled, him in her embrace as Yoongi was mentally accusing himself for Nefeli’s wanting to move away again cause of him.

Suddenly Yoongi felt tears in his soft hair, watering his head. He raised his head and saw Nefeli crying tiny, bitter tears, trying not to make any sound so as she wouldn’t catch Yoongi’s attention. But she failed.

“Now why are you crying?” he asked her, sitting upon his knees in front of her, piercing her with his eyes.

Nefeli sniffled and wiped her nose on her sleeve “I feel really bad. It's my fault you feel that way and I reminded you of what happened and I hurt you so much” she admitted, feeling guiltier than ever. Her mind was being tortured with that thought and her stomach was formed into the tightest knot she had ever felt.

Yoongi’s heart dropped. What had he done to her? “Don’t say that Nefeli, it’s really not your fault...” he caressed her hair soothingly, trying to convince her.

But he was doing nothing. The young girl couldn’t stop blaming herself for what was happening and what she had caused in Yoongi’s heart and the happy memories that they now were dismal she had reminded him. It was all her fault, she was sure about it.

Droplets had stopped rolling down her cheeks and her nose was now unblocked, but she couldn’t help but feel guilty “If I wasn’t there tho, nothing of that would have happened and you wouldn’t have remembered all these, I am so sorry Yoongi” she whispered, playing with her fingers out of nervousness and regret.

“No Nefeli, it’s not like that! Haeun was, is, and will ever be in my heart and I will never forget her, but that didn’t give me the right to be a jerk to you!” he frowned his eyebrows together, his eyes pleading for her to believe him, and his hands gripping hers as he was trying to persuade her it was not her fault.

They stayed like that for a while. No one was talking and no one was doing anything at all. Yoongi was staring at Nefeli and Nefeli was staring at Yoongi.

Until them both burst into loud giggles.

I guess no one is good at starting competitions.

It was the first time Nefeli could hear Yoongi laugh. And he has a really cute laugh. His white teeth were making his gummy smile shining more as his shoulders were bouncing a little from the giggles. His eyes had formed into thin lines and his nose had scrunched up.

They continued giggling like maniacs and as the seconds were passing by, they would die down, but the smiles on their faces would remain still. Yoongi was like a whole another person when he was laughing. ‘He should be like that more often’ she thought.

“Nefeli, I am really sorry for what was happening these days. I was really cruel towards you” Yoongi apologized once again, his smile not leaving his face.

But there was something in that smile.

Something Nefeli hadn’t seen before.

There was pureness. Softness. Happiness. Emotions like them.

“It’s alright Yoongi, really” she smiled fondly and rubbed his arm soothingly.

Nefeli had completely forgotten that Yoongi was so rude to her since the day she moved in. She could now see a sweet boy who had completely regretted what he had done and was tryna make it up for her really hard. She had completely forgotten that he was a ghost. She was seeing him like an ordinary boy who was really pissed off at her. It was really hard for her to get used to living with supernatural creatures when she never believed in them.

Yoongi, on the other hand, was feeling guiltier than ever. He had made her wanna leave the house she was tryna to buy for so many months and she made her be afraid of him. At first, that was what he wanted to do, but then, when his friends told him how Nefeli was feeling, Yoongi felt something breaking inside him. He knew he must apologize and convinced her not to leave like that.

“Please, don’t leeeeeave” he dragged his words in a way like he was begging her to stay. Which practically was exactly what he was doing.

Nefeli chuckled and rubbed his head affectionately “For the last time Yoongi, I am not gonna leave, don’t worry” she said sweetly as he placed his head on her chest, in between her legs.

The two young adults cuddled together and if anyone saw them, their jaws would drop on the ground. Yoongi had always been a cold boy towards everyone except his friends and the fact that now he was showing his well-hid affectionate face to someone except them was more surprising and unexpected.

However, there was only one thing that was now torturing her poor mind. Something she couldn’t forget. That voice that night. That night it was Yoongi who was... tickling her. The same cold boy who was against tickling, that night he was tickling her.

“Yoongi,” Nef asked and he just hummed in response, not meeting his gaze “Why were you tickling my knees that night?” she asked, feeling a blush rising on her face.

“I told you, you remind me of Haeun. I felt like I was tickling her” he said casually, playing with the hem of her hoodie.

Nefeli felt so weird at that moment. She felt flattered and loved by Yoongi and that means a lot to her, but at the same time, she felt like she was replacing her in his heart. And that was something she never wanted to do.

Yoongi continued looking down at his fingers which were still playing with her blouse, when a wide smirk appeared on his face “I know you liked it” he asked, not even looking at her face, taking Nefeli by surprise.

“H-How do y’know that?!” she exclaimed shocked and brutally stopped playing with his hair.

Yoongi just chuckled and shook his head “I can hear people's souls. When someone is happy, I can hear a sweet-sounded bell coming from them. When someone is feeling sorrow, I hear a weird noise, like it’s screaming for help. Every feeling has its different noise. And that’s only when I allow myself to hear it, it’s my own special power as a ghost” he explained like nothing was happening like it was the most normal thing in the world. Nef stayed like that, staring at him with wide eyes and gasped mouth.

“Oh” was the only thing she said, as she felt embarrassment rising inside her. She had never told anyone that she likes being tickled and even if someone had understood something, no one had ever pointed it out. And now it was like someone was exposing her to herself and she didn’t know what to do.

Suddenly the duo felt two more presence behind their backs watching them. Nefeli and Yoongi looked behind them and they both smiled brightly at Hoseok and Taehyung who appeared out of nowhere, smiling softly and sweetly from ear to ear. Taehyung was leaning on the door frame with arms crossed in front of his chest and Hoseok was resting his torso on the wall next to the door, hands in his pockets.

“Ahh, I see you two are getting along after all” Hoseok exclaimed proudly, taking a seat next to Yoongi and Taehyung following close, and sitting near Nef’s feet.

Yoongi and Nefeli looked at each other smiling and nodded happily. Ahh, who could imagine that an iceberg could get along with a warm girl like her? No one.

“I told you that they would become close after all” Taehyung nudged Hoseok’s arm and they both laughed.

“Apparently Yoongi is a nice company” Nefeli admitted and smiled at Yoongi who was still playing with that hem.

“Don’t tell me you are gonna forget us and stick with him!” Hoseok poked her sides fastly making her fall back with giggles. Her sides have always been probably one of her worsts spots and pokes are somehow heaven/hell for her. They tickle her so much.

“Nohohahahaha I promise ahahaha!” she giggled loudly and she tried to grab his wrists just when he stopped. However, Nef didn’t really want him to stop. After all that crying and heavy aura, she wanted something to lighten up the mood.

The other two boys were smiling smugly at the scene in front of them. Amusement was formed in their eyes and they were grinning from ear to ear. It was the first time Nefeli could see amusement in Yoongi’s eyes and it was probably the best thing she had ever seen. His eyes were sparkling and his cute smile was making his nose scrunching up a little. He was adorable under his cold mask.

However, his next words sent a shiver down her spine and she felt her face heating up in embarrassment.

“She loves it, I can hear her soul giggling” Yoongi smirked and the rest of the boys copied him.

“Is that so Neffie? You wanna get tickled?” Hoseok smirked down at the girl who was now lying on her back on the bed and started poking all around her sides again “That’s great!”

Taehyung felt so happy to see his friend smiling so bright after so long time. It had been many dedicates since they died and he and never seen Yoongi being so happy. Maybe that girl was a blessing after all.

He laughed loudly as he saw Hoseok trying to battle the young girl’s hands which were desperately trying to grab his wrists and giggling like a maniac. So he did the only thing he could think of. He grabbed her flying hands and pinned them above her head and sat on them, making everything 10 times worse for her.

“Nahahahaha lehehemme gohohoho!” she giggled loudly, shaking her head left and right from the ticklish sensations.

Tae wiggled fingers in front of her face bringing to the surface louder giggles. That was the most torturous thing someone could ever do. It tickles her without even touching her “But I thought you liked it” he teased from above her as put his wiggling fingers on her bare armpits, running them up and down softly like a feather.

“Come on Yoongz, join the fun” Hoseok called Yoongi by his nickname to give him more motivation. Everyone knew how much it means to him and they wanted to make him snap out of his thoughts for some minutes.

“Sure” Yoongi smirked and sat on her shins, clawing behind her knees the same way he was clawing that night, getting the same giggles he got then.

Nefeli was giggling like a maniac, not knowing what to try and stop first. It was like tiny bugs were running up and down her skin. Loud giggles were echoing the whole house as she was shaking her head left and right while the boys were only smirking widely down at her.

“Nahahahaha!” she giggled ringingly as the pokes on her sides, the circles on her armpits, and the clawing on her knees became faster. She kicked her knees up and down, trying to stop the feeling but nothing seem to work.

“Aww look how much you are giggling! You must really like this, right Yoongi? What do you hear?” Hoseok teased, poking her ribs fastly.

“Ah I cannot concentrate on her inside noises Hobi, her giggles are too loud” Yoongi replied mischievously as he dug fastly behind her knee, sending her into louder fits of giggles, almost hysterical “See what I mean?”

“She is so ticklish, it’s adorable!” a cute voice sounded from behind them and they both snapped their heads towards it.

Jungkook stood there smiling softly his famous bunny grin Jimin, Namjoon, and Jin who were copying his smile. They had heard all the laughter and they had come there to check what was happening. And to say they were surprised to see Yoongi in that position was an understatement. It was like a weight left over their shoulders.

“Ahh, I still remember her first day here when I poked her sides, how much she was giggling with a simple touch” the bunny-toothed guy continued as he folded his arms and leaned back on the wall, watching Nef squirming under their devilish fingers.

“WHAT?!” she cried but fell back again to hysterical giggles as Hoseok moved his hands to her ribs “It was youhouhouhou?!” she kicked her feet and legs more as her soft skin was being tortured.

“Ah yeah, I saw it too, she is just so sensitive! I bet a single feather could tickle her!” Jin exclaimed and giggled as he heard her giggles becoming loud laughter when Hoseok shook his fingertips on the middle of her tummy.

Namjoon shook his head at her ticklishness “Let’s test it then” he said and did something Nefeli could have never imagined; he moved his hand in a circled motion and a soft, white, long feather appeared.

Nefeli’s eyes widened for a second as she saw him approaching her with the feather in his hand but Taehyung who was now digging into her armpits didn’t let her. The sudden feeling sent her in new fits of pure laughter and a nice shiver down her spine.

“Nanananahahahaha!” she cried and shook her head, thrashing around as Namjoon raised her blouse more and the fresh air hit her warm skin.

“Already giggling girl? I didn’t even touch you yet” the young lad chuckled at her panicked expression and twirled the soft item in between his fingers “Ohokay okay, stop for a sec” he ordered the three boys and they immediately stopped, letting her breathe for a brief second.

Key phrase; a brief second.

Taehyung, Hoseok, and Yoongi had her still pinned down and the other three boys circled them to see what was gonna happen “Watch this” Namjoon smirked widely and kneeled next to her side, lowering his hand towards her tummy.

“Nonononono Namjoon please nonononahahahahaha Namjoohoon nahahahahahaha!” her giggles came out screamingly and she tried desperately to shot her arms down as she shot her arms down but she couldn’t. Those giants were keeping her pinned down for good. Namjoon dipped the feather in her bellybutton and twirled it around, destroying every nerve she had in her body from how much it tickled.

It was really surprising because she knew her bellybutton was not even ticklish when someone tickles her in there with their finger. But the feather... Oh gosh, it makes her feel so sensitive and melts her like ice under the warm sun. The giggles were running out of her mouth like a waterfall and her head was shaking from side to side fastly.

“Wow, even a simple feather tickles you? You are so ticklish Neffie!” Jin giggled along with her and squeezed her side twice, earning a giggly scream from Nefeli “Oh, too ticklish sides? This will come in handy” he pointed out smirking and everyone laughed, agreeing with the oldest.

“Agh plehehehase nahahahahahaha!” she thrashed around and tried to escape the tickles but nothing could stop them from attacking her mercilessly.

All of sudden, she felt Hoseok getting up and Yoongi taking his place before she could even react. Yoongi traced softly his index nail from her elbow down to her hipbone and up to her elbow again and again and again repeatedly while the feather was still twirling around her bellybutton. Never slower, never faster. Up and down. Again and again. It was driving her crazy!

“Mm I think her feet need a massage, don’t you think Kook?” Taehyung grinned widely at the youngest one, who simply smirked and rushed to get one of her tiny feet.

“I’ll get the other one!” Jimin jumped on his feet happily and grabbed gently her other ankle, sitting it on his lap and Jungkook did that same.

“NO! Dahahahan’t you dahahahare!” she cried before they even start, knowing from experience that her feet are one of her worst spots along with her sides and her ribs.

“We haven’t even touched you yet, chill Nef!” Jimin laughed and wiggled his fingers just above her sole to tease her even more.

“NO!” she yelled in between her giggles, causing every boy to stop and look at her with wide eyes.

The ponytail she had was now half-destroyed and pieces of hair were all over her grinning face. However, a small pout appeared on her face, replacing the happing face she had some seconds ago.

Namjoon clicked his fingers and the feather disappeared, Taehyung let her arms go and Hoseok stopped smiling. Instead, a pout formed on his lips, increasing how cute he already looked but at the same time, a hint of worry could be found in his eyes.

“B-But you like it...” Yoongi mumbled under his breath and looked around his friends to understand what was happening but no one was moving. They were all waiting for Nefeli’s reaction.

‘Oh no... I didn’t mean it! What can I do now? I cannot ask them to start again! Poor Yoongi, he looks hurt, I didn’t wanna hurt him! Look at him...’ Nefeli thought to herself, the pout she had on her lips growing bigger, still laying down and arms collapsed on her torso.

However, she felt a weird tingling before a chuckle of amusement came from above her tho and everyone’s heads snapped towards Taehyung “She didn’t want us to stop, it was only a reflex, she just said it” he chuckled again, this time everyone else doing the same.

Realization hit her when she understood what Yoongi said about powers. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who had powers. Everyone had!

“Is that true Nef?” Jungkook asked, a hint of amusement playing in his as he held her ankle higher and tighter, careful not to hurt her.

“Wha- How do you know that?!” she exclaimed with wide eyes and everyone else laughed at her.

“I can read minds, little one, this is my special power” he smirked as he saw her eyes growing even bigger. That was the tingling she felt.

“I can move things with my mind” Namjoon explained “Hoseok moves faster than light, Jin heals wounds, Jungkook transforms into various creatures and Jimin cheers people up without them knowing” her jaw dropped to the ground as soon as she heard their powers. They were all so different but at the same time so unique and amazing!

However, Nefeli was concentrated on something else. She wanted tickles. And she wanted Yoongi to be happy. She was feeling like she had hurt him. She just learned how much it means to him but yet he stopped them brutally because of a stupid fear. She had never been tickled on her feet before, but she knows this is one of her most ticklish spots. Even the thought tickles her.

Yoongi and Taehyung shared a knowing look and grinned widely, signaling at Jungkook and Jimin to get her feet while she was still didn’t expect them to move.

Electric shots hit her body as she felt five fingers with sharp blunt nails scribbling all over each one of her hypersensitive feet. Nefeli screamed loudly and fell into hysterical laughter, thrashing around and punching whichever angle on the bed she could so as to stop the torturous sensations.

“AGH NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” she screamed loudly and everyone tried to cover their ears because of how loud it was, chuckling at her.

Jimin and Jungkook looked at each other, understanding that she was too sensitive there and they had gone too much since the beginning so they slowed down, enough for her to fell into hysterical giggles once again.

She could have never imagined her feet would be THAT ticklish and a simple finger could make her scream so loud.

However, to say she wasn’t enjoying that, would be a lie. She loves playfulness and she enjoys being tickled even tho she doesn’t really know why. She could feel butterflies in her stomach even tho she wasn’t in love with anyone and she could feel that she wanted more.

Yoongi tho sensed that and gave a nod to Taehyung to pin her arms again, sitting on them and everyone else positioned themselves around the squirming girl.

Jin sat next to her side while Namjoon clicked his fingers and appeared the feather again, taking a seat on her other side. Hoseok sat again on her shins and Yoongi on her hips while Jungkook and Jimin remained in their places.

The eldest one poked once her side softly, earning a mini scream in between her giggles which made everyone smile at her.

Hoseok tho didn’t start easy on her. He dug fastly his fingers behind her knees as she squealed and bucked her hip in the air, making Yoongi look like he was riding a wild horse.

Taehyung did the same to her armpits while her feet were being scribbled softly and her side was being kneaded by Jin.

Namjoon had dipped again the feather in her bellybutton and was drawing circles in it fastly, not missing to draw some around it before while with his other hand, he was squeezing her other side.

Yoongi on the other hand was doing everything he could to make her laugh as much as she can. With one hand he was drawing fast circles on her hipbone and was squeezing under her bellybutton, her lower tummy.

Nefeli was sent in the loudest laughter she had ever experienced. She was feeling like electricity was hitting her body. But it wasn’t simple electricity. It was an extremely ticklish one!

Everything seemed to be bearable till that moment. Till that torturous moment when all the teasing started.

“Aww look at you! You are so cute!” Namjoon teased, dipping further the feather in her bellybutton. She blushed really hard, harder than she expected.

Nefeli shook her head from side to side and laughed loudly, knowing that this wouldn’t stop the feeling. At least she tried to. She had never experienced any tool and now that a feather was tickling her, she could say that it was feeling like Heaven and Hell at the same time. Too soft yet too ticklish.

“NAHAHAHA AHAHAHAM NAHAHAHAT!” she laughed loudly, unable to open her eyes to look at any of them.

“Then why do you look like it?” Jimin teased from down there on her foot, pinching and wiggling each and every one of her toes.

Jungkook on the other hand had softly pulled back the ones on her other foot and he was scribbling fastly on her poor sole, setting on fire Nefeli’s nerves. Her feet are probably the most ticklish ones someone can meet. Even a soft massage can get her for good.

Suddenly she felt jabs and light squeezes on her other side. Nefeli would have fell off of the couch if the boys weren’t blocking her from how much it caught her off guard.

Namjoon. That evil ghost had used his powers and was moving the feather with his mind while he was squeezing with both hands her side.

“GAH NAMJAHAHAHAN NAHAHAHA!” she arched her back. Jinn saw it as an opportunity to trace her spine up and down, making her arch her back even more.

“There too? You are so sensitive Neffie!” Yoongi teased, squeezing fastly her hips. Yoongi had the widest smile the boys had ever seen. No one in all those years had made him smile so much. If his parents could see him, they would be truly proud and happy.

And this was the moment Nef got to experience Hoseok’s powers for the first time. What I mean by that? Lemme explain it then. Hoseok used his super-speed to scribble fastly her inner thighs, sending her into fits of really loud laughter.

“HOSEAHAHAHAHAHAK!” she tried to shut her thighs together so she would stop him, but she did nothing at all. She was only torturing herself even more.

“Yes baby girl?” the young girl blushed at the new nickname but she couldn’t help her body thrashing around from the new feeling.

“DAHAHAHAHAN’T TEAHAHAHAHAHASE MEAHAHAHA!” of course she didn’t mean it. Nefeli loves being teased and even tease people.

Her mouth had started aching already from how much she was laughing but she was enjoying as much as the boys.

“But whyyyy? You love it!” Jin teased, giving multiple kisses on her bare side. If Nefeli couldn’t stand at all was kisses. Even kisses on her face and cheeks tickle her.

“NAHAHAHAHA NAHAHAHAT KISSES AHAHAHAHAHA!” she wiggled like a worm, tryna escape the tiny kisses which felt like bugs were running up and down her warm skin.

“Aww someone is sensitive to kisses huh? How interesting” Yoongi smirked and bet down, kissing all over her belly as Jin kept going kissing her side.

A wave of electricity hit all over her body from her neck down to her feet and she let out a scream and started thrashing around, begging for some mercy.

“AGH PLEAHAHAHAHAHASE!” Nefeli hid her head in her shoulder as everyone cooed down at her.

“Please what? Please more? Well... We are not planning on stopping anytime soon, don’t worry” Jimin wiggled his eyebrows as he scratched the base of her toes.

Bad move.

Nefeli kicked out, almost hitting him somewhere she wasn’t supposed to, earning a squeak from Jimin. “Now who told you that you can kick me? You are in for it now!” he sat on her ankle and clicked his fingers, appearing a long, blue paintbrush.

He brushed softly yet fastly all over her hypersensitive foot. Everyone smirked widely as they heard her laughter going almost hysterical.

The six boys shared a look of happiness as they saw Yoongi trying to ride excitedly the roaring girl and he was still kissing airy her belly.

“Aw look at you! A little worm!” Taehyung whispered in her neck as he had bent down before he blew a short raspberry.

“TAEAHAHAHA!” she shrieked and bucked once again her hips in the air.

“Neffie!” he mocked her while her clawed on her hollows with his fingers.

The feather in her bellybutton was still twirling and Namjoon was still squeezing her side faster and faster as the moments were passing by. Lemme tell you that every hair on her body was straight now.

“You have such a soft skin little one,” he said as he poked her sides faster than the speed of light. He was really careful so it wouldn’t hurt her but only tickle her while Jimin moved the brush on her toes.

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” her laughter at this point was able to break a glass.

“Yaaaaa don’t scream so much Nefeli! We are not killing you!” Jungkook teased while he was tracings multiple patterns on her sol non-stop.

The young girl couldn’t stop smiling and laughing her heart out. If she was ticklish before, now she was feeling way more sensitive that day. Not because she was being tickled by ghosts but because for some reason their fingers were touching some of her most sensitive nerves on her already too ticklish body.

“Look at this happy, gummy smile!” Yoongi teased and brought his fingers higher, reaching her ribs.

Nefeli let out an inhuman scream and fell into louder laughter as his fingers touched the skin of her hypersensitive ribs, pinching and massaging them. She didn’t know she had THAT ticklish ribs, and it tickled her way more than she could ever expect.

“Whoa, I think you hit the jackpot dude” Jin teased, digging deeper in her side, sending her in a new round of ear-piercing loud laughter.

“NAHAHAHAHA NAHAHAT THEAHAHAHARE!” she roared, not really knowing who she was talking to. Jin on her side? Yoongi on her ribs? Taehyung on the hollows of her armpits? Jungkook and Jimin in her feet? Hoseok behind her knees? The paintbrush on her poor toes? Or the feather in her bellybutton?

Nefeli heard fingers clicking from above her, but she chose to ignore it. However, a buzzing sound made her realize what it was. A toothbrush.

“GAH TAHAHAHAHAHAE NAHAHAHAHA!” she cried laughingly when the tiny toothbrush touched the soft skin of her armpits, sending her in fits of hysterics.

The toothbrush traveled from the flesh skin of her forearm to the sensitive place of her hollows in circle moves, setting on fire her nerves and bringing to the surface mostly screams.

“Agh, my ear!” Jimin complained playfully, playing with her tiny toes like they were piano.

“Okay, let’s count your ribs, I think you miss some” Yoongi smirked widely and before Nefeli could say anything else, the boy had already started massaging her lowest ribs “Oneeeee”

The young girl threw her head back in laughter, unable to even move. The rest of the boys had slowed down a little to the point they were only teasing her body with soft tickles so they could enjoy the scene in front of them.

“Twooooo” he moved to her second-lowest ribs as her laughter turned hiccup.

“Threeeee”

“PLEAHAHAHAHAHAHASE!” she shrieked and arched her back again, shutting her eyes tightly.

“Fouuuur”

“COUNT FASTER AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” she begged as her tired body collapsed on the mattress again.

“Oh you want me to count faster?” his evil grin grew bigger and brought his fingers on her lowest one again. Then he did something truly unexpected “Onetwothreefourfivesixseveneight” he poked all over her ribs, without a specific order.

She had seen before on Tumblr people counting other’s ribs while they were tickling them, but she had never seen that anywhere before, and of course she had never experienced it.

After that tho, as soon as he finished, he bent down and nibbled on them. That was the worst thing someone could do to her. Nibbles. They were driving her crazy, out of her mind!

Jin, Taehyung, and Namjoon looked at each other and they gave a signal to each other. However, they didn’t do anything... They simply vanished... She was still unable to shot her arms down tho... Nefeli got confused but she couldn’t express it. She couldn’t even say a word, only shriek, and laugh.

However, she soon felt fast nibbles on her sides and neck. Yoongi and Hoseok almost fell off of her from how much she exploded and thrashed around. She literally shrieked louder than she ever had before and erupted into hysterical laughter.

The nibbles were mixed with raspberries and giggles from the boys could be heard as a background. Their breaths were tickling her as well and were sending shivers down her spine.

“PLEAHAHAHAHA NAHAHAHAHA MERCAHAHAHAHA!” she begged, unable to form a whole sentence.

However, she knew that she couldn’t take any longer. She desperately needed a break. She wanted to experience more, but if she didn’t take a break soon, she would fade away.

“BREAK! BREAHAHAHAHAKE!” she cried and fell into silent laughter, shaking her head from side to side.

Taehyung, who read her thoughts, gave a signal to everyone else and everyone stopped immediately, pulling away from her.

Yoongi’s eyes widened and he felt anxiety rising inside him. Had he hurt her? Had we gone too far? Had he made her feel uncomfortable?

However, as soon as he heard her giggly soul, relief filled him.

Nefeli curled up in a small ball as soon as everyone gets off of her and the items vanished. Yoongi pulled her onto his lap and rubbed her back soothingly as she rested her head onto his chest, still giggling airily.

Jungkook clicked his finger and a glass of water appeared. He pushed the flying glass towards her lightly and that stopped in front of her. She chuckled lightly, still not believing that this was actually happening, and took it gladly, drinking it all.

“Are you alright? Did we go too harsh?” Namjoon asked with concern.

“No, don’t worry, I am completely fine” she gave them a big smile and snuggled more onto Yoongi.

Yoongi on the other hand could feel happiness rushing in him and a wide smile appeared on his face. He remembered how he used to cuddle with Haeun after tickles and she used to snuggle into him like Nefeli was right now. ‘Ah, Haeunnie... I miss you so much, sissy’

Yoongi felt a tingling and immediately understood what had happened. He raised his vision and he saw Taehyung looking at him with a sympathetic smile. Yoongi nodded at him and they both sighed deeply.

“You have to admit that you loved it tho” Jimin winked at Nef. She blushed deeply and hid her face in Yoongi’s chest.

“No, I cannot deny it” she mumbled and everyone’s face lit up.

“And Yoongi seemed to enjoy it too, right?” Jin pointed out.

All the eyes snapped towards him and he looked down shyly, nodding. To be honest, he loved it. And he loved even more that he made Nefeli happy.

‘Should I ask for more? Not too intensive ones t-tickles... Wow why is it really hard to pronounce th-’ she stopped her thoughts when she felt that tingle again. Taehyung.

She looked at him and she saw a smirk formed on his face as he leaned closer to Jungkook and Jimin, whispering something.

She gulped when smirks formed on the two as well and they turned their heads towards her. Did he tell them that I want more? They were up to something.

Before they could do anything, she was snatched from Yoongi’s lap and was placed in between Jin and Yoongi who held each one of her arms collapsed on her torso.

Jungkook then sent her a flying kiss and in a flash of light, he had vanished.

Nef’s widened as she looked at the boys with question “W-Where did he go?” she asked. However, she didn’t have enough time to react when Jimin sat on her ankles, pulling back her toes, fully exposing her poor, bare soles.

“What are you dohohoing?” she giggled loudly, sensing that something was up and that something was gonna happen to her feet, but she couldn’t understand what.

Surprisingly, she heard high-pitched giggles coming from down her feet and she felt something running up and down her poor soles and toes, and in between them. Something like a... Bug.

“Ahahahahaha whahahat ihihihihis thahahahat?!” she giggled loudly and kicked her knees up and down as she was desperately trying to set herself free.

“Be careful! It’s Jungkook!” Namjoon warned as he saw her tryna clap her feet together.

“WHAT?!” she exclaimed in between her giggles.

“He transformed into a ladybug!” they all explained at her, wide smirks on their faces. And as if it wasn’t already too much, Yoongi, Hoseok, and Namjoon started poking all over her sides and belly while Jin and Taehyung were tryna keep her arms down on her torso.

“NAHAHAHA PLEAHAHAHASE NAHAHAHAOOOO!” she yelled in between her laughter and tried to squirm away, but at the same time not to move her legs and feet, afraid that she would hurt Jungkook.

Jimin on the other hand was helping Jungkook by scribbling all over her soles as the youngest member was running between, on, and under her toes, sending her into fits of hysterics.

As her most sensitive spots were being attacked, she couldn’t help but scream when Jin dug in her ribs from behind her, falling onto him.

“Coochie coochie coo Nef!” Hoseok whispered in her ear, sending shivers down her spine while Taehyung was tracing his finger on it up and down, now and then scribbling her lower back as well, and making Nefeli arch it.

“NAHAHAHAHAHA NAHAHAHAT THE WAHAHAHAHARDS!” ugh those three words are literally the worst tease she can ever receive. It drives her crazy and makes her shy at the same time!

“No? Seriously you cannot take it? Ah, I will keep that in mind” Yoongi teased while kneading fastly her side. Electric shots hit her body once again as she shook her head frantically from side to side, and trying with all her might not to move her legs.

“PLEAHAHAHAHAHASE NAHAHAHAHAHA!” she laughed loudly, dipping her nails and fingers in the soft mattress.

Jungkook had focused in between her toes, which were pulled back by Jimin with one hand, while his other hand was scribbling her feet. Jungkook’s soft giggles could be heard as a background along with the rest of the boys’ louder ones.

Yoongi and Namjoon continued kneading fastly her sides as Jin was digging in her ribs while everyone was cooing at her for how cute she was.

“Ah I think you absolutely love it, you are not even telling us to stop” Hoseok whispered once again in her ear before blowing a huge raspberry on her neck.

“NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Nefeli shrieked and threw her head back in laughter, as she fell onto Jin, completely exhausted as her laughter turned silent.

However, Hoseok was wrong.

Sweat was sliding down her face and tears had started rolling down her cheeks. Her hair was messy and her breath was stolen away. Her laughter had turned hoarse and her tummy and throat were burning.

‘N-no more...’ she thought, more like begging them to stop, in hope Taehyung would hear her thoughts.

And he did.

She felt the tingling and then Taehyung’s fingers stopping.

“Okay I think that was enough let her breath,” he told the others as they all stopped. They all do as Taehyung says since he can read minds.

Everyone let her go once again and Jungkook returned to his official look as a person. She curled up in a small ball as Namjoon was rubbing her back soothingly and Yoongi was putting pieces of hair behind her ears and massaging her head.

“Are you alright?” they asked her for the second time today and she nodded straight away as Jungkook gave her some water again.

“Ihihihi- I guess I reached my limits” she explained and sat up again, drinking the water. All the eyes were on her, making her shy.

She felt butterflies in her stomach as she thought of what just happened and she realized she had just been tickled by... ghosts. But she didn’t really care. She had fun. And she had made new friends.

“Yoongi, are you okay?” she asked Yoongi, catching him by surprise. How could a girl he had met some days before be so sweet and affectionate towards him when he had been an asshole to her?

He felt a smile appearing on his face as he nodded and kissed her forehead. He hadn’t done that since... Haeun’s death “Thanks for that,” he said and Nefeli copied his warm smile.

Yes, he was thankful. Nefeli had helped him realize something. He had made him realize that life goes on. Even after death. That we may lose people from our lives... but new ones are coming. Our favorite ones are staying in our hearts whether they are alive or not. And if they are dead, we must not stay stuck in their memory. We must move one. We will never forget them, but it will take us nowhere if we cry and refuse to move on from a situation we cannot change at all.

“So you are not gonna leave?” Hoseok asked with pleading eyes, fear in them. None of the boys wanted Nef to leave.

The young girl chuckled softly and rolled her eyes playfully at them “Of course I am not gonna leave!”

All the boys cheered and tackled her into a group hug as huge grins of happiness were reaching everyone’s ears.

That move then was definitely the best decision she had ever taken, and she wouldn’t change it for anything in the world...

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friendandphoe · 3 years

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okay the formatting on this is gonna be a lil weird bUT!! have this figuring it out/something to last revamp that’s been sitting in my brain for the last few weeks @ahbonjour @museumlad @creativeskull95

There’s no way in hell she’s ever looking Professor Keelson in the eye again. “I’m sorry,” she croaks for the thousandth time, and finds a tissue being pressed into her hand.

“Quite alright, my dear,” Professor Keelson says soothingly, leaning back in his chair with his hands folded over his round belly. “Wipe your face, now, there you go. I’m — well.” And he rubs the bridge of his nose, just under his round wire glasses. “I can’t say I wasn’t expecting this, unfortunately.”

She nods numbly, ice trickling down her spine.

You ruined everything.

“I’m sorry,” she tries again, because it’s all she can think to say, but the professor waves her off with a weathered hand and pushes himself to his feet, leaning heavily on his cane as he makes his way to the mini fridge he keeps under the bookshelves.

“Now, now,” he says, almost scolding, and pulls out a clementine, a bar of chocolate, and a bottle of water. “Don’t you start that with me, Ms. Ochoa. This is not the first time I’ve had students crying in my office, I daresay it won’t be the last.” And he sits heavily back down in his chair, setting the snacks in front of her. “Eat, drink. Now, I won’t press on what’s been troubling you, but you know, these tired old eyes of mine do still catch a few things here and there, and I have seen you — well. I don’t like to use the word struggling, but you know, perhaps it is a bit more apt than anything else I could think of.” And she knows he’s looking at her, knows those beady black eyes well, but just focuses on unwrapping the chocolate bar as quietly as she can.

What makes you think we want you around?

“You’ve had a rough time of it, this year.”

It’s not a question, but she still finds herself nodding confirmation. “I don’t know what happened.” She says hoarsely, and reaches for the water bottle.

Leave us alone.

“I’ve been wanting this for years, I worked so hard to get into this program, I just—” and she has to press her mouth shut to keep the lump in her throat from escaping.

Leave us alone!

“Some… stuff. Uh, came up, I guess.”

They sit in silence for a minute, then softly: “The human mind is a wonderful, confusing little thing.” Professor Keelson says. She dares a glance up at him, finds him — thank god — staring out his office window. “It tends to block out anything unpleasant we might not want to hear, and often that negativity will build and build and build until, one day, the weight becomes too much to bear.” He sighs and scrubs a hand through his short white beard, messing the hairs out of their orderly style. “And then we must face the unfortunate truth that sometimes what we thought we wanted is, in actuality, not at all the path we should be taking."

She drops her gaze back down to her bouncing knee. “Is it stupid?” She blurts out, watching her leg blur under her rising tears. “I just — this is a good school, a good program, and I’ll have so many job opportunities when I graduate—”

A weathered hand stretches out across the desk, just reaching to where her pinky would've been. “And yet,” Professor Keelson murmurs. “It won’t make you happy.” He sits back in his chair, looking every inch the benevolent Santa Claus his students know him to be. “And given how miserable you’ve been this year, Ms. Ochoa, I daresay your ultimate happiness is worth far more than any graduating job offers.” His smile drops for a half-second. “Though I can’t say I won’t be sorry to see you go. You’re already one of my best students, you know.”

You're an embarrassment to my name and reputation.

A wet little giggle chokes out of her throat, and she wipes down her face one more time. “Don’t tempt me, I’m half-considering staying,” she admits. “Even with all of this.”

“Ah, but if you do, what sort of state will you be in once you graduate?” Professor Keelson says, raising a bushy brow. “All you young folk are the same. You’re young, you have that wonderful, limitless energy, but you must learn to take care of yourselves now, while you have the space to do so. Won’t do you any good to drive yourselves into the ground every night when you’re my age, you know!” He looks at her appraisingly, then smiles wide. “And you know, my dear, there’s great strength in being able to admit you were wrong. I’ve always admired people who are strong enough to chase their dreams instead of following the easy path. Do you have an idea where you’re going, yet?”

Don’t ever come back here, you little—

“There’s a performing and visual arts conservatory,” she says hesitantly. “River Park, downstate. They’ve got really good photography and filmmaking programs, and, um.” She pauses, unsure how to explain how right it had all felt when she’d been reading about it online. “Well, I have an interview on Wednesday, so.”

Professor Keelson’s smile widens. “River Park! My partner studied illustration there, years ago when we were both young. You’ll do wonderfully.”

She can’t help but feel like his faith is ever-so-slightly misplaced —

I didn't want you.

— maybe it’s just the existential crisis talking, who knows —

Do you understand me?

— but she can’t quite bring herself to argue against the sparkling excitement in the professor’s eyes. She lets him press another chocolate bar and tissue combo into her hand as he shuffles her out of his office, with strict, cheerful instructions to come see him before she leaves for her interview.

You were a mistake.

Tuesday night comes in the blink of an eye; she’d barely dumped her meager wardrobe back into the suitcase she’d kept under her bed and her sticky notes are still haphazardly slapped to the wall above her desk. She’s not exactly sure where the time went — it’s not like she went to any classes. Or ate much. Or was sleeping, really. Granted she did try, but the third time in the same night she woke up sobbing because her blankets had twisted around her leg, trapping her in an all-too-familiar heat vortex—

window won't break it's too hot it hurts to breathe window won't break it's so fucking hot she can't think window won't break but it'll slide get out of this goddamn heat get out get out crunch fuck ow hurts hurts ow fuck hurts her toes shouldn't be ow fuck fuck fuck pointing that way hurts hurts fucking hurts can't feel her knee fuck fuck where's papá—

— she kind of gave up. She doesn't even bother pulling out her shitty, half-broken headphones to try and watch something on Netflix to try and pass the time, she just lays in bed and listens to Rebecca softly snoring five feet away. The ceiling is infinitely more interesting than anything else she could’ve been focusing on, anyway.

Except maybe her portfolio. Which. She hasn’t really. Looked at.

She’s so fucked.

Still, she drags herself out of bed nice and early at 7 am Wednesday morning, beating her alarm by the customary 4 minutes, and actually manages to gather the energy to sift through her remaining clothes to dig out something — well. She doesn’t really have anything “nice,” per say, but she does have an oversized sweater that’ll pass as a dress once she puts on some makeup and a belt and ties her hair up, and that’ll have to be good enough.

You show up to my door looking like that?

River Park is going to laugh her right out the door.

Everything she might need is already shoved unceremoniously into her backpack — wallet, keys, wrist brace, student ID, laptop, flash drive (in its place of honor in the tiny pocket), knee brace, fruit snacks, water bottle — but her eye catches on her DLSR just as she’s finished tying the laces on her most comfortable boot, and she hesitates. She hasn’t really looked at her portfolio much recently — she knows she’s got some old pictures from Manhattan, and maybe some from various campus events that might be good, but it’s been a little hard to go out and take nice shots when she’s been drowning in depression soup for the past four months. Four years. Whatever. Either way, she doesn’t have much to show for herself, and inspiration hasn’t really hit lately.

But River Park is — well, she has no idea, really, she hasn’t seen it in person yet, but the photos online are gorgeous, all glass-and-brick buildings framed by forests and gardens. Very much a college town, from what she can tell, the campus map isn’t really a map so much as a general directory pointing out which buildings were associated with the conservatory, but there was something that felt weirdly homey about seeing those pictures. Maybe it was the layout of the buildings, maybe it was the way they described their classes and professors, maybe it was just the simple fact that everyone in those pictures was genuinely smiling, but she’d gotten this weird, longing ache just below her collarbone that had made her close down all her other college-related tabs and email River Park’s photography and filmmaking department.

Something feels good about that campus. And maybe, if she gets there a little early, she can—

You don't get to come into my life and — and ruin everything I have here.

It’s only seven forty-two. Her interview’s not until one, and the train ride downstate should only take an hour. She’s got time.

Which is how she finds herself knocking on Professor Keelson’s office door, DLSR hanging around her neck, about two hours earlier than she’d been intending to be there, praying to who and whatever might be listening that he’s actually in and she didn’t just horribly fuck this up like she’s been fucking up, oh, who’s to say, just about everything she touches these past few months.

You’re not a part of this family. You never will be.

“Come in, come in!” She hears just beyond the door, and she cautiously peeks in to find the wizened old professor crouching over his printer, staring at it suspiciously as it slowly spits out some document. “Hello, dear. Wasn’t expecting you this early!”

I think you should leave.

“Sorry,” she manages, hovering in the doorway. “I just — change of plans.”

Professor Keelson nods, collects his papers, and creaks over to his desk. “Yes, very good.” he agrees, shuffling the papers into two piles. “Take a seat, I promise I won’t keep you very long. You look nice, by the way.”

She sits, already relaxing in the warm familiarity of Professor Keelson’s overstuffed office. Maybe this is why he’d wanted her to visit before she went, just to make sure she wouldn’t vomit on the interviewers. “Thank you, sir.”

“You’re very welcome. Now,” he says, stuffing one pile of papers into a folder. “These are all your important documents: transcripts, transferable credits, disability accommodations, et cetera. Pardon my overstepping, but you did seem a little, ah, frazzled, shall we say? Last you came to speak with me and I was almost positive that you wouldn’t have thought of pulling the paperwork together.”

Which is absolutely true, she hadn’t, and she can’t even bring herself to feel insulted that he’d assumed she wouldn’t. “Thank you very much,” she says, trying desperately to seem calm and cool and collected and not crush her very expensive, very precious camera in her white-knuckle grip.

A mess. You're a mess.

Professor Keelson’s face crinkles into a smile. “You’re very welcome. You’ll be happy to know that, since you’ve already completed all your core classes and general requirements, all of those credits will easily transfer between the schools. There may be a class or two you’ll have to make up, but you should be able to jump right in with your major-specific classes. Now, this,” he says, folding the other papers into an envelope. “Is your letter of recommendation. I’ll put it in the folder with everything else, but I wanted you to know that you had it.”

Oh, fuck, she might start crying again. “Professor—” she starts, but he’s already slid the folder across the desk to her.

“Ms. Ochoa, if I may.” Her mouth snaps shut, and he continues: “Our time together has been short, yes, but you have been one of my favorite students to ever come through these doors. Barring your obvious intelligence, passion, and work ethic, you’re also relentlessly kind, despite everything you’ve gone through.” His gaze fixes on her cheek for the briefest of moments, tracing over the lumps and bumps of her scars, but his eyes are as soft as they’ve ever been. “I don’t presume to know your history, but I know bits of your present, and the person I’ve seen would make a valuable asset to any school she goes to. If you approach your new classes and projects with as much determination as you did mine, I’ve no doubt your new instructors will be as proud of you as I am. I let them know as much.”

...

She numbly takes the folder, desperately blinking back tears. “Th-thank you, sir.” She manages, thick in the back of her throat. “I-I’ll do my best.”

Professor Keelson takes up his customary position, hands laced neatly over his belly. “You will.” He agrees, smiling. “Now, you should be heading out soon. I’d hate to make you miss your train, especially if you want to get there early.”

“Yes — yes.” And she gets up on autopilot, sliding the folder into her backpack as carefully as she can manage. “Thank you. Thank you so much, professor, I can’t — I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”

She’s halfway out the door when she hears him call: “Ms. Ochoa, one more thing?”

She turns.

The professor smiles benevolently at her from his chair. “Don’t give up on yourself before you’ve even gotten started.”

And with that, she’s on her way.

Get out.

So, update: maybe deciding to take her portfolio pictures on her way to her college interview was a stupid idea, but to be fair, a lot of her stupid ideas have worked out pretty decently before, so. It’s fine.

Probably.

She definitely doesn’t almost miss the train by snapping shots of the mostly-empty station, but in her defense, the morning fog hadn't quite dissipated yet, and the spooky air of possibility that the tracks had been extending and disappearing into was just begging to be captured. And she absolutely doesn’t continually hop seats throughout the hour-long ride to get different angles of the seats, the blurry towns and roads whizzing past, or even a couple of self-portraits here and there. It’s not like there are people around for her to bother, anyway, so it’s fine. (Probably.) It’s a little hard getting a satisfyingly dramatic shot of her staring out the window, but she thinks the one where they’re passing through a tunnel and she’s locked eyes with her shadowy reflection might be a winner. She won’t really know until she opens them up on her computer, which will probably end up being just before the interview, with her luck, so. Who knows, she might just be wasting her time and battery life.

It’s the most fun she’s had in a while, though.

And. Fuck, maybe it makes no sense, but she's still got that feeling in her chest. It's creeping up to her ponytail, at this point, tugging on the ends of her curls, ordering her to pay attention.

Capture this.

It's important.

Last time she felt like that, she won an award, so. Y'know. Fuck her if she's going to ignore it.

She cuts herself off when there’s ten minutes left in the journey, just to be sure she’s not scrambling to put herself together as she’s pulling up to the station, but ten minutes, it turns out, is both much longer and much shorter than she thought it’d be. Just enough time to run down the list of all the possible ways this could (and would) go wrong, but not enough to steady her racing heart before the train’s slowing down.

You're delusional. This isn't one of your little fairy tales. This is — it's not going to happen.

Don’t give up on yourself before you’ve even gotten started, she remembers, taking one last breath to steel herself, and swings herself up onto her feet and out the doors.

The station is nice enough, but not terribly different from the one she’d started in besides being a little cleaner, so she shoulders her backpack and makes her way down the stairs and into the town proper.

Which.

Wow.

Maybe it’s just a seasonal thing, maybe not, but all the buildings she can see are draped with hanging lights, and even the curving street lights have extra strands hanging over the sidewalks. She almost wishes she’d scheduled her interview later in the day, just to be able to get a shot of those lights against the dark sky, but contents herself with snapping pictures of the incredibly aesthetic sidewalk and shops. She spots an art supply store with a cheerful blue door sandwiched between a movie theater and an apartment complex that frames up nicely, and there’s a coffee shop with swirling, festive winter-y designs painted on the window with pots of poinsettias framing the corners that’s a — no pun intended — picture-perfect paragon of coziness. She stops maybe a little too long to zoom in on the red leaves and flawless paint, making sure to keep the actual inside of the shop out of focus, because as cute as the beanbags and mismatched armchairs are, she doesn’t really feel like going in to ask if it’s alright for her to take pictures of the small handful of people both in front of and behind the counter.

One last shot of the poinsettias and she moves on, turning her lens to the last few, dying flowers in their garden beds, then to the display window of a bookstore that proudly announces its support of the LGBT community with various painted flags, then to the churning river that cuts through the town and the elegant bridge that arcs proudly above it.

There’s not a lot of people walking around right now, but she can definitely see kids around her age up the street, chatting and laughing amongst themselves as their breath puffs out in front of them. A cute dog bounces over to say hello before its owner tugs it away with a sheepish smile, and even without their leaves, the trees interspersed along the sidewalk stand tall, proud, and lovely.

She’s got that weird ache in her chest again — stronger this time — that indiscernible pull that draws her to stay, and she puts her camera down, puffing out a shaky breath.

What made you think we want you here?

“It doesn’t matter.” She tells herself sternly, leaning up on the sides of the bridge. “It doesn’t matter unless you get in.”

Speaking of. She pulls her phone out of her pocket, fully intending to double check the email she’d been sent with instructions on where to go, but her eye catches on the time.

Twelve forty-six.

So. Maybe not the best idea to go gallivanting around a campus she doesn’t know, especially when she has an extremely important interview to get to, but even as she’s scolding herself, she knows the pink flush in her cheeks isn’t just from the cold, and she’s got more energy now than she’s had in months, so.

Worth it.

Thank god E.A. Archer Hall is straightforward enough to find; Google Maps tells her it’s a seven minute walk in a mostly straight line from where she is on the bridge now, which she just about manages even though it’s cold and her stump is starting to ache. The building is emblazoned with the name right on the side, so it’s impossible to miss, but she needs a keycard to get in, and somehow she thinks her current school ID isn’t exactly going to fly here.

But someone, somewhere, is smiling on her, because she’s only just gotten to oh, shit before a tall woman with vitiligo and long box braids strides towards the door, pushing it open.

“Alejandra Ochoa?”

“Yes, ma’am,” she says as smoothly as she can behind her chattering teeth, and the woman smiles.

“You're right on time. Come on in, let's get started."

#I HAVE A LOT OF THOUGHTS ABOUT HOW DIFFERENT FIO/STL WOULD GO NOW SO IM REWRITING IT #i dont wanna spoil things bc i am in fact working on the next bits but here are some minor thoughts:#1: alexa starts out as an architecture major then switches schools to go into photography/filmmaking spring semester 2nd year #((not to toot my own horn but the way her major reflects her emotional arc is actually very clever of me if i do say so myself))#2: alexa and jaimey are half siblings through their dad and there will in fact be more Jaimey/Juno development than ive ever done before #((i have a lot of thoughts about their relationship and how it would grow and develop over time so. lowkey Jaimey redemption arc))#3: alexa obviously nails this interview and she hangs out on campus for a lil while afterwards to take pictures #((3.5: she does end up going into the coffee shop and there is in fact a Very Cute Barista and she gets Nervous))#4: the little interjections are things that have been said to Alexa somewhat recently but not all by the same person #thats about it i think anything else would be spoiler-y #n e way i cant wait to loredump all my new thoughts on yall im so sorry in advance for all the notifications you're about to get #im workin on some AU stuff too but lately ive been wanting to write about Normal Kids doing Normal Kid Things so here we are #i hope you enjoyed #movie house #alejandra ochoa #alexa darmond #my writing #shut up phoenix

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missbunnycarrot · 3 years

Text

K I S S & T E L L

C H A P T E R O N E

1 new message

from: bestie

y/n~!! good luck! i am so excited for you babe. you are finally living your dream. i hope everything turns out well for you, and i know it will. although.. i am gonna miss you big time.. i love you babe. see you when i see you 😘😘😘

you let out a long sigh after reading your best friend's message. you lowered your phone then glanced back to your plane ticket to check your flight's departure time.

🔔📢🎶

KE flight number 17 bound to incheon, south korean has finally arrived. please proceed to the departure area, thank you.

"this is it y/n," you told yourself "i am finally living my dream as a dancer in south korea!!" you clutched your things close to you then strutted your way to the departure area.

dancing is a huge part of your existence. it is something you love to do and everyone knows it. dancing is your ultimate skill, your art of choice and your mode of therapy. then just after your dance teacher posted your video up on the internet, an email addressed to you changed everything. the email was sent by an agency looking for a specific dancer, well a short dancer that is.

see, you never really thought of hitting it big. yeah you are pretty and very experienced in a lot of style of dances but you lack in the height department. beauty standards nowadays just made you feel not too special to be casted at all. but hey, you certainly enjoyed underground dance battles and backing up local artists at your place.

that's why being contacted by a south korean entertainment industry came as a huge shock to you. the thought of the possibilities of meeting k-pop idols made you giddy as a schoolgirl. it is too soon the name names, isn't? you smiled to yourself getting comfortable in your seat. you looked out the window as the plane is about to take off south korea here i come.

you just need to take in the view, high glass ceiling, the place well lighted by glass walls and the modern architecture which made you realize you don't need to pinch yourself to reality.

you walked past the arrival sign and immediately saw a man holding a paper with your name on it. "안녕하세요 (hello)" you bowed to the man. he bowed back "you must be miss y/n, welcome to south korea. my name is jeon young hwan and i will be your chauffeur. shall i grab your luggages for you miss?" you slightly bowed again "sure young hwan씨. 감사합니다 (thank you)" such a gentleman and he is kinda cute. everything is going quite well for you so far.

it seemed like an hour drive when you finally arrived at the company building. it was huge. it made you even more excited when you saw nu'est and members of after school exit the building "kahi!!" you exclaimed unable to take your eyes off of her. "so, you are a fan of after school miss y/n," young hwan's words snapped you back to reality. "oh. 죄송합니다 (sorry) was i too loud?" your cheeks blushing from embarassment. "아니 (no). i think it is just natural for someone to react like that when they are starstrucked," young hwan smile at you through the rear mirror. "by the way miss y/n, as you can tell the builing on the left is the company building and here on the right will be your accomodation," young hwan swerved the van to the right and entered the parking area of the building.

he slid the door open and help you out of the van "now miss y/n, i will take you to your dorm" after reaching the seventh floor and walking past several doors from the elevator you finally reached your dorm "so this is it miss y/n, inside you will find a planner with your working schedules. as well as names of important people you should know working in the company and room numbers, floors you should be at during you schedule," young hwan stated like a pro. "감사합니다 (thank you)" you bowed then he returned you the gesture.

you open the door, not expecting too much. it was a very tiny room. but it still had its own bathroom, mini kitchen and a space for a small bed so it was still much better than you would have thought. you settled your bags inside, locked the door, went straight to the window and pulled the curtains aside. taking in the warmth of the sun and inhaling the korean air now, the adventure begins.

you cooked yourself ramen for dinner with kimchi at the side and banana milk as your desert. you then remembered to go through you planner for your first day tomorrow:

okay, 7am..

3rd floor room number 13

3hours practice 1hour break

okay..

hmmm.. ceo, han sung soo

stylist, kim nayeon

choreographer, choi youngjun

okay..

oh, what's this? looks some kind of id..

okay..

hmmm.. you took a big bite of ramen

no mention of any artist..

"oh well," you sighed

🍜💳📑📒

the next day you were up very early. too early that you didn't really know how to kill the rest of the time before 7am. "hmmm.. i guess i could walk around a bit to check out new places," so you wore your hoodie over your tanktop, wrapped your waistbag around you sweatpants and slinged your water bottle around your wrist.

as you stepped out of your building you inhaled the chilly korean air once again, which in turn gave you this boost of positive energy, or is it just a placebo effect? there were small hangout places in each corners of the street, a pet grooming shop with the cutest clients you have ever seen, a public park nearby where you saw kids smiling and waving at you before they ran to the slide. you looked at your watch "oh, its already 6am could the building be open by now?" you went back your path direct to the company building. there were workers cleaning the windows and it didn't look like there were anybody else but the cleaning team. you waved your hand at one crew "안녕하세요 (hello)," you bowed "is the building open?" you showed her your id. "안녕하세요 (hello), you may come in, though there is no one around yet. you may stay at the lobby in the meantime." the crew said. "감사합니다 (thank you)" you gave her a smile and bowed.

the place was a masterpiece. no wonder idols here are inspired to be more creative with their craft. you then noticed a narrow hallway with large posters adorning the wall. you looked at the posters and noted that the posters were of the artists of the entertainment agency. you passed by headshots of after school, you stopped at kahi's photo wow, those abs then at nana's photo she is so gorgeous. next you passed by hello venus and while you are on your way to the next group you caught yourself singing "씰룩씰룩 엉덩일 좌우로~ Wiggle, wiggle 더 느낌 있게~ 빙글빙글 조심스럽게~ 흔들어봐 흐흔들어봐~". then you saw ren of nu'est he looks prettier than me, sulking thinking about it. lastly you met the faces of seventeen, one of south korea's international idol groups. you just couldn't close your mouth in awe they are only pictures, what more if i met them in personal?

"ehem, 안녕하세요 (hello), you look new," a voice interupted your daydream. you looked back to see it was choi youngjun, the choreographer. "ah 안녕하세요 youngjun씨, my name is y/n" you politely bowed. "you are the new dancer, welcome to pledis entertaiment miss y/n" youngjun said after he bowed at you. "hey, are you heading to the dance pactice room?" he asked. "네 (yes) actually i am," you answered. "well then, let's go together,"

youngjun reached for the door and opened it for you. wow, this practice room is huge the room was well lit and there were mirrors everywhere. you can't help but smile at the thought that your dream is finally coming into life. next thing you know music blasted from the speakers. you moved your head to look for youngjun. "so y/n, show me what you got," youngjun said as he sat on a chair to observe you. is he challenging me? you smiled then dropped your things aside, tossing your hoodie with it as well.

without hesitation, you faced the mirror and started to move your body to the music. making your movements as fluid as you could possibly get with a few body popping moves to show your versatility. as you were already vibing with the music, youngjun suddenly changed the music to a latin-sultry kind of song. of course you didn't back down. you showed off your ballroom dancing skills with a dash of belly dancing to make your performance a tad bit sexy to impress the choreographer. you glaced at youngjun behind you through the mirror giving you a satisfied nod. he stood up from his seat and applaud "대박 (awesome) y/n. i am very impressed. you are exactly what we need,"

oh geez, stop it 😆

22 notes · View notes

btxtreads · 4 years

Text

perfectly perfect | choi soobin (2)

part of the arcadia academy series

↳ Pairing: Choi Soobin x Reader ↳ word count: 1.6k words ↳ rating: G ↳ genre: Highschool!au, Jock!Soobin, mostly fluff, white prince!Soobin,,, also Soobin lets himself get dragged around a lot, tsundere!Soobin but nothing that’s too much to handle ↳ series: Arcadia Academy

(please also read “Personal Best,” Arcadia Academy’s Beomgyu series by @bffsoobin 💖)

“So, this is the proposed menu for the cafe,” Y/N commented, passing a sheet of paper over to Namjoon. “I just need your signature right here, Mr. Kim, and we can go bring that over to the finance for the class fund and head over to the grocery store to buy the needed items,”

Namjoon hummed as he studied the text.

Beside Y/N sat Soobin, squirming and fidgeting in his seat as he kept taking quick glances at Namjoon’s desk clock.

The teacher took a quick glance at the boy as he moved to sign the provided sheets.

“Is something wrong, Mr. Choi?”

Soobin jumped in his seat in alarm.

“Oh, um,”

Y/N turned to Soobin with a glare, making the boy huff before shooting a smile at Namjoon.

“Is there really no other way to get that extra credit, sir?” Soobin asked, scratching his neck. “I really need to prioritize the volleyball team’s festival fundraiser,”

“I’m sorry,” Y/N sighed. “but you guys are already rich with donations from Beomgyu’s dad. What else could you possibly need the money for?”

Soobin narrowed his eyes at the girl.

“Well, if you must know,” Soobin replied. “the money isn’t enough to buy first-class flight tickets to finals for all of us,”

Y/N only blinked at him before turning back to Namjoon with a grumble.

“I swear to god, his brain is just one giant deflated volleyball,” Y/N mumbled.

Soobin made a move to reply when Namjoon cut him off.

“Well, in response to your earlier question, Mr. Choi,” Namjoon replied, amusement in his tone as he set his pen and glasses down. “No, this is the only way.”

“Guess you’re stuck with me, volleyball prince,” Y/N smirked smugly.

Soobin glared at the girl, making her chuckle under her breath.

“The prince has got claws, that’s nice to know,”

“Y/N, be nice,” Namjoon chastised before standing. “Well, if that’s all, then you can go ahead and file that at the finance. I’ve got a meeting with other class advisers.

“Right, for the festival,” Y/N sighed, taking the papers back and running through them. “Hey, Volleyball Prince, come on,”

“Stop calling me that,” Soobin sighed, running a hand through his hair and standing up to follow the girl out of the faculty.

As soon as they walked out, Soobin shot a quick smile at a group of girls huddling by the office.

The group swooned and squealed as they went past, making Y/N roll her eyes.

No conversation happened between Soobin and Y/N from then, the only noises being the shuffling of papers and squeals from schoolmates on the receiving end of Soobin’s smiles.

In replacement of the stack of papers in Y/N’s hands, she now had a stack of bills from the class fund.

“Okay, I think this is enough to last us for the whole festival day,” Y/N hummed, nodding.

“Right,”

“Okay,” Y/N said, stuffing the money in her bag. “The big grocery store is about 5 minutes away by car, let’s call an uber.”

Soobin’s head snapped over to her.

“Wait, uber? We’re shopping now?”

Y/N blinked. “Yes. The fair is literally in two days. Ice is the only thing we’re buying on the same day.”

“Wait,” Soobin sighed before shooting Y/N his award-winning smile. “Y/N, I would really love to help you today but, I’ve got volleyball practice in 10 minutes and—“

Y/N rolled her eyes and whirled around, hand grasping Soobin’s blazer and pulling him down to her height.

Soobin’s eyes widened as he found himself face-to-face with the president’s glaring eyes.

“Listen to me, buddy,” Y/N started. “I get it that volleyball is important to you, but do not blow this for me,”

Soobin opened his mouth to respond, but Y/N only shook her head.

“No, zip it,” Y/N hissed. “You might not like this, but you got this job. Either you do it, or you don’t get your precious credits to get your precious scholarship to play your precious volleyball,”

Y/N released the boy, who slowly inched back to his regular height.

“This is the only way to get those credits,” Y/N crossed her arms. “Decide now,”

“But—” Soobin started, glancing over at the doors to the volleyball court.

So close.

He sighed, pulling his phone out with a frown.

“I’ll call the uber,”

Soobin, for the giant athlete that he was, is very childlish.

Y/N found this out when she heard him play with their grocery cart.

The boy, when bored, slumped over the grocery cart and proceeded to make silent woosh noises like he thought she wouldn’t hear.

Y/N cleared her throat as she heard him mutter “woosh” from under his breath again.

Cracking a small smile, she turned to see the boy fumble back to a stand.

“Which brand do you think seems better?” Y/N hummed, holding two bottles of whipped cream.

“Does it matter?” Soobin snorted, taking the cans. “It’s whipped cream,”

“Yes, it matters,” Y/N rolled her eyes, taking the cans away from him. “Changing the creams can change the quality of the food,”

“It’s still food,” Soobin replies before plopping himself on the cart in front of Y/N, going back to making silent woosh noises.

“You are a child,” Y/N sighed, patting Soobin’s head.

The said boy froze, glancing up to raise an eyebrow at the girl.

“Did you just pet me?”

“Like I would a five year-old.” Y/N smirked, setting five cans of whipped cream down on the cart. “Why?”

Soobin gasped, straightening up and bending forward to poke at her sides.

“Where’s your ticklish spot, where?” Soobin chuckled over to Y/N as she bent every which way in his hands to avoid him.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Y/N laughed. “Yield, yield!”

“No,” Soobin laughed.

“Stop!” Y/N whined, laughing as Soobin cackled.

“Okay, okay,” Soobin snorted, his hands laying still on her waist as he stood behind Y/N.

At a first glance, they seemed the domestic, happy teenage couple you see everyday.

His chin was planted on her shoulder, his black hair falling in his eyes.

Her hair was swept to the side, with her hand placed delicately on his with a giggle.

Soobin hummed as he gazed at the shelf of cans in front of them.

“By the way, I think the blue brand’s better cream,”

“Blue brand?”

“What?” Soobin shrugged. “I call it that way,”

“Why did you take a photo of them? Is it because they’re so cute?” A voice sounded. “I remember when me and your father used to be like that,”

“Mom, no, that’s Choi Soobin,” another voice whispered. “That’s one of the most famous guys in our school, he’s a volleyball player. He’s dating the president? I’m sending this to my friends,”

At this, Soobin looked down at his hands and slowly backed away from Y/N.

“Sorry,” He smiled at Y/N who only shrugged.

“It’s fine,” Y/N waved him off. “It’s your fangirls you need to worry about,”

Soobin shook his head and leaned on the shelf as he watched Y/N switch the whipped cream cans in the cart for the ones he said he preferred, a small smile painting on his features.

When she turned to look at him, he quickly turned to another direction.

“Yeah, of course,” Soobin muttered. “but, everyone likes me anyways, it’s fine,”

“Never knew the volleyball prince could be so arrogant,” Y/N sing-songed as she continued down the aisle.

“Will you stop calling me that?” Soobin frowned.

“What, your title?” Y/N asked, her hands running over a selection of tea boxes. “Everyone at school calls you that,”

“Not to my face,”

“Well, that’s because they care about what you think about them,” Y/N shrugged. “I don’t care what you think about me, so I’m less careful about it,”

Soobin sighed.

“I’m just,” Soobin started as Y/N read the descriptions for the tea boxes in her hands. “I don’t wanna be the volleyball prince,”

“But you are,”

“And it’s so much pressure,” Soobin sighed. “I don’t wanna be the all-star athlete, you know? I just wanna be a high-school kid,”

Y/N frowned, raising her head as she looked at him.

Her eyes locked with him.

“But you are,”

He sputtered in his place.

Before he could reply, his ringtone blasted out of nowhere.

“I think somebody’s calling you,” Y/N smiled, turning back around to continue selecting tea flavors.

Soobin sighed and winced at the caller ID. Yeonjunie.

“Hello?”

“Soobin, what the hell?” Yeonjun seethed, making Soobin flinch. “Why did I just find a photo of you with the class president at the grocery store instead of practice?”

Soobin shot Y/N an apologetic glance, making her shake her head in amusement and tune Yeonjun and Soobin’s conversation out.

As she proceeded to pick groceries, Soobin followed her on his phone on one hand and the cart in another—his apologetic tone entering her ears.

“It’s for the fair, hyung,” Soobin rolled his eyes. “Yes, I’ll be there. Fine. I love you too, hyung,”

Y/N laughed as Soobin glared at the girl.

“Guys, stop. Fine, I love you too, Hueningkai,” Soobin groaned. “Stop it. Shut up, Beomgyu. I’m hanging up,”

Soobin sighed, as he pocketed his phone.

Y/N’s smugly faced Soobin.

“I love you, hyung.” Y/N teased. “What’s the penalty for missing practice?”

“Shut up,” Soobin huffed, pushing Y/N’s face away as he walked past. “Nothing, I never miss it anyways, and this is for extra credit so it still counts as academics. I got an out,”

“Okay, but your hands are so big it covers my entire face,” Y/N commented. “A fact I do not need to know,”

“What coffee grounds are we getting, Y/N?” Soobin laughed, making Y/N shrug.

Soobin picked up a coffee bean from the display and a lemon from another, raising a surprised eyebrow as he turned to Y/N with a gasp. “Hey, have you ever wondered what coffees with fruits taste like?”

Y/N has never laughed as much as she did that day.

Soobin and Y/N walked side-by-side, plastic bags in one hand and iced coffee cups in another.

Y/N takes a sip as they take a sharp left, entering the residential area of the town.

“Well, I’m heading this way,” Y/N hummed, gesturing over to a curb. “See you tomorrow?”

“No,” Soobin shook his head, adjusting his grip on the plastic bags at his side. “It’s almost sun-down. I’ll go with you to your house,”

“No, it’s okay,”

“I insist,” Soobin shrugged, making Y/N relent.

The two continued their way.

Y/N marvelled at the tall boy, who snorted when he saw small kids running around with one boy screaming it’s a prank! at his friends.

“For the school’s white prince,” Y/N started, “You sure don’t act so perfect,”

Soobin rolled his eyes.

“What are you talking about again?” Soobin huffed. “Stop calling me prince, and I am perfect,”

“Perfectly arrogant,” Y/N scoffed.

“Perfectly perfect,” Soobin corrected with a grin, taking another sip of his coffee. “Nah, I just don’t feel pressured to be Choi Soobin with you,”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah, I’m just Soobin, you know?” He shrugged again. “Hey, what’s the concept we’re going for the cafe again?”

“Hm?” Y/N asked. “Oh, none. Just a regular cafe,”

Soobin narrowed his eyes. “What about a monster cafe? Ana’s in drama, right? She can do scary makeup!”

“It’s Hana,” Y/N snorted. “And no. Besides, she’s busy with the drama club fundraiser,”

“Boo,” Soobin said before zoning out.

At this, Y/N observed—doing what she does best. Study.

She studied Choi Soobin for all that he is—the volleyball prince, the school heartthrob and the regular teenager he wanted to be.

Soobin was endearing.

He smiled and giggled a lot. He was very affectionate and liked sweet things like cookies and ice cream. He zones out a lot, likes pranks, and loves his friends and volleyball.

But this wasn’t the Soobin in school.

No, the Soobin in school smiles a lot—but at no particular person. He accepts gifts of chocolates and beverages from girls, but always gives it away to his team members and never ate or consumed one himself. He never engaged in any conversation that wasn’t about volleyball or academics unless you’re someone from the volleyball team. He was smart and charming—but he never tries to one-up anyone (that would be Yeonjun). He’s just… there.

Pretty and tall.

The Soobin in school was dull, a shell, a prince in the spotlight—Y/N preferred this Soobin more.

If only he stayed like this all the time.

Soobin slurped his coffee before gasping.

“What do you say about monster hats?”

Y/N laughed. “No, let’s just stay as a regular cafe,”

“Not even a maid cafe?” Soobin pouted, making Y/N roll her eyes.

“Perv,”

“Hey!” Soobin gasped. “No, I’m not!”

At times like this, Y/N could see why Soobin was the school’s perfect boy. But not for the same reasons that others seem to think.

Y/N sees a different Soobin than his fangirls do—but she’d be dead before she tells anyone that.

“Ah, this is me,” Y/N said, stopping by a small house. “This way,”

Soobin followed her by the porch, setting the bags down with a smile.

“Do you want to come in?” Y/N hummed, fumbling for her keys.

“No,” Soobin shook his head. “I’ve got to get home anyways, there’s volleyball practice tomorrow before festival set-up starts,”

“So early?”

“It’s nationals,” Soobin shrugged, feeling eyes on him. “Gotta shape up,”

He turned to see an old lady from the next house.

“Don’t mind her, that’s our neighbor,” Y/N waved off. “Hey, gran!”

“Y/N, dear!” The woman greeted from her spot. “Is that your boyfriend?”

“Uh,” Y/N blinked, turning to Soobin.

“He’s very handsome. I always knew you’d get a good-looking boy,” the lady commented, making Soobin and Y/N burn red. “What’s your name, dear?”

“Soobin,” He squeaked out, making Y/N shake her head.

“Gran, I think your son is calling you from inside,” Y/N coughed making the old woman gasp.

“Right, of course,” the woman gasped, trudging back inside her house. “Yes, Taehyung. I’m coming, darling!”

Soobin cleared his throat as Y/N laughed awkwardly.

“Sorry about that,”

“It’s nothing,” Soobin said, shaking his head as he followed Y/N into her house, helping her move the groceries to her kitchen.

“Do you want some water or soda or anything before you go?”

“Water’s great,” He smiled, throwing his finished coffee cup into the trash.

He took a seat on the stools by the kitchen counter as Y/N moved inside the kitchen.

She set a tall glass of cold water in front of him with a small smile.

“Hey,” she started as she leaned across him. “I’m sorry,”

“Hm?” Soobin asked, thumbing the glass. “What about?”

“I was too harsh on you,” Y/N muttered, moving to sit next to him. “About the festival, I mean, then making you miss the practice.

“Ah, that’s fine,” Soobin shrugged. “It’s no big deal. I never miss practice, and Yeonjun was still there, anyways,”

“Still, I know it sucks when you get forced to do something you don’t want to,” Y/N said.

“Hey, it’s fine,” Soobin reassured. “I was the one who asked for the credits, anyways.”

Y/N hummed, propping her head on her chin and looking up at Soobin as he took a sip from his glass.

“Hey, Soobin,”

“Hm?”

“Can you promise me something?”

“Sure,”

“Please be there for me, tomorrow,” Y/N muttered.

Soobin turned his head, locking gazes with her.

He copied her, leaning his head on his hands and propping his elbow on the counter with a smile.

“What do you mean?”

“The festival. Please, I really need this,” Y/N begged, straightening up and looking down.

Shyly, she took his hand.

“Please?”

Soobin smiled at her, making her blush and fluster.

“Well, I’m not sure if I have the time,” Soobin started, making Y/N burn redder and pull her hand away.

“But,” Soobin started, his hand reaching back to grasp Y/N’s with a soft smile. “I’ll make time,”

Y/N smiled as Soobin stood up.

“I should go,”

“Okay,”

Soobin picked up his bag and walked towards the door, Y/N following him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Y/N asked, smiling as Soobin shot him a wink and finger guns.

“Definitely,” He chuckled before turning and running away.

Y/N shook her head in amusement.

Yeah, she can see why people liked him that much.

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prurientpuddlejumper · 4 years

Text

Out Tonight (Part 2)

K!nktober 2020 Kink Bingo!: Papi

<- Part 1 | Part 3 ->

Summary: After a night of karaoke, Barba teaches you some Spanish, gives you some slightly patronizing advice, and follows you up to your hotel room. (Lo siento por mi español. Por favor dime si cometí algún error!)

Rafael Barba x female reader

Warning: NSFW/18+, Dub-con!! Everyone is enthusiastically willing, but also super drunk.

For @thatesqcrush’s kink bingo!

6,089 words

“So… Rafael Barba,” you changed the subject away from today’s trial. His failure to get a conviction had sent him into such a steep emotional spiral he cried in your arms at the bar, despite having just met you an hour ago. “That’s Spanish, right?”

The vulnerability in his eyes flattened. “Cuban,” he said, already bracing for the “but you don’t look Latino” comments, or worse, something about rafts or cigars. Instead your eyes got wide like he just ripped off a mask and revealed himself to be David Bowie.

“Cool!”

“I… guess?” There were eighty thousand Cuban-Americans living in New York, but sure.

“Hablar… I mean, hablas español?”

“Sí, lo hablo,” he answered with wry amusement, pinching the bridge of his nose.

You chewed your lip in thought before slowly saying, “Aprendí un poco de español en la escuela, y lo me gusta mucho.”

His brow raised. You actually knew more than he expected, which is to say, you could string more than two words together. “Not bad. Toda mi familia es de Cuba, así que el español es mi lengua materna. Soy el primer estadounidense.”

He spoke faster, at a natural pace, expecting you to follow, but when your eyes glazed over and you awkwardly squeaked out, “...Qué?” it became clear you did not, in fact, speak Spanish.

“Let’s stick to English,” he grimaced.

You whined in disappointment. “But that was so hot! Please? Un poco más. Dime algo en español!”

“Algo.”

An unflattering snort erupted from your nostrils, and you started giggling like a manic school girl. Barba shook his head with second-hand embarrassment, though a smile crept over his lips as you continued struggling to contain yourself, pleased at how well his bad joke had gone over.

“Come on, teach me something,” you pouted, leaning towards him, pushing your chest out. “Por favor… papi?”

He choked on his drink so hard burning whisky shot up his nose. “Ay, dios!” He pounded his chest and ordered a water. “OK, OK, bueno,” he put up his hands in defeat. “Hablaré en español. Solo para ti, mamita. Te gusta?”

“Mucho, papi.” You were taking advantage of calling him that now that you’d seen his reaction. He didn’t nearly die this time, but a red blush was sweeping up his neck under his shirt collar. Emboldened, he leaned toward you, eyes heavily lidded as he flirtatiously held your gaze.

“Tienes novio?”

“A husband? Do I look married?” you flipped your ringless left hand back and front and worried about your age.

He laughed, raising a hand to his forehead with his palm shading his eyes. “That would be esposo.”

“Oh. Right.” Your face darkened. “No, yo soy… single.”

“Estás soltera,” he prompted.

“Ah, gracias. Estoy soltera. Y tú?” you tilted your face down shyly and looked up at him through your lashes. “Tienes esposo? O novia?”

“Nope,” he popped the p, staring into the empty bottom of his scotch glass and wishing he hadn’t decided to cut himself off. The sip of water he took was boring and not numbly soothing at all. He had been single for a depressingly long time, in fact.

“Muy bien,” you smiled with delight, and he suddenly realized his years of failure at relationships were, tonight, a positive. It was the answer a very beautiful woman was hoping for. He may have been suffering from a string of humiliating losses, but winning you over reawakened his cocky self-assurance.

“Acércate.” He curled his finger to beckon you closer, and you swung onto his lap. God, you were so close. Your body fit so perfectly in his arms and you smelled like strawberry lemonade from that cocktail. Before he could help it, he was kissing you again. Softer and a little less desperate this time. A little more… something else. He just met you, but the way you made him feel cared about was stronger than he had ever felt, depressing as that was to admit. The one time he had put his whole heart into a relationship, he’d had it shattered so badly he was still picking up the pieces. Since then, he chose relationships that were mutually guarded, partners he knew he would never connect with, and who didn’t expect anything back. Barba did not open up to people. He’d never let himself cry on anyone before, except his abuelita. He must have been extremely drunk to let his guard down so much, but he pushed the realization out of mind as your fingers curled through his hair around the back of his head and pulled him deeper, your strawberry tongue slipping between his bitter lips. He wanted this. He needed it. He felt so close to you, so right—that was all that mattered.

He started whispering to you in Spanish between kisses, phrases you couldn’t understand, some that you got the gist of. He cringed a little at your attempts to reply in his first language, but kissed you more softly each time. You were trying, at least. You were trying very hard to understand a piece of him. The phrases he murmured against your lips grew progressively more filthy, which your keen ears picked up on even if you weren’t entirely sure what they meant.

“Como se dice, ‘fuck me harder’?” you asked in a low voice full of lust, fingers tightening against his scalp.

“...damelo más duro,” he said with a shudder. His cock twitched and he wondered if you’d noticed the growing erection pressed against your thigh as you sat in his lap. What you would think. But you must have noticed, and you weren’t moving to get away from him.

“Damelo duro, papi,” you purred, leaning to say it into his ear, your breath warm and tickling.

He swallowed, heart hammering in his chest. Barba, always so eloquent under pressure in court, could barely form words to express a coherent thought. You were just joking. You must have been. To you it was a foreign language, and it didn’t sound like a real request to your ears. This was just a flirty game, teaching you naughty Spanish. “Y-you are… getting into dangerous territory here,” he tried to laugh jokingly, but his throat was dry. He swallowed again.

You lowered your voice and your eyelids. “I mean it,” you whispered against the shell of his ear. To punctuate your point, you rolled your hips, deliberately grinding your inner thigh against his forming erection. He was so wildly aroused with alcohol he thought he would come right there, but its effects were also preventing him from getting completely hard yet, something he should probably have been concerned about, but wasn’t.

“Would you like to go somewhere?” he said, voice strained with urgency. “I would very much like to go somewhere immediately and fuck your brains out, please. If that’s… alright with you.”

***

The streets of Midtown were as bright and crowded as they were during the day, just a little less hurried—except for two people. You held Barba’s large hand, long elegant fingers laced with yours, laughing giddily in the warm summer air as you raced toward your hotel, stopping only to desperately kiss each other, fingers in each other’s hair, reigniting the flames that pulled you together.

Barba broke away panting, his lips wet with your saliva. The fresh air had a sobering effect, and something serious occurred to him. He had been animated and outgoing all night at the bar, but he suddenly very much resembled the shrewd lawyer whose picture you had seen in a news article. You felt like you’d been called to the principal’s office under the severity of his gaze, waiting for whatever it was he had to say.

“Did you take any pictures of us together?”

“I… might have taken a few selfies,” you admitted, terrified you’d committed a heinous faux pas.

“Good,” he said. “Do you have location data enabled? You should send those to someone you trust, along with the time you left the bar, and where we’re going.”

Gears in your head turned slowly to put together an intelligible response. You opened your mouth and declared, “...whuh?”

“You’re out drinking alone, taking a stranger home!” he gripped your shoulders as if to shake you. “Do you know how many cases never get off the ground because there’s no ID, no proof the victim and assailant were ever in the same room? Those photos would establish a timeline and a suspect, and would be enough for a warrant. Do you know what I would give to have evidence like that in every case? A lot more rapists would go to jail.”

“Are you… saying you’re a rapist?” you said slowly, cocking your head.

He stiffened, mentally replaying his own words. His eyes darted to the side, up, down, and three other directions in rapid succession. “N-no… But you have no way of knowing that. You’re too trusting. No matter how charming someone seems, it’s better to be paranoid and take precautions.”

“Uh-huh. Real charming. You know, it’s creepy telling someone that right before you’re going to sleep with them. How do you say that in Spanish?”

He groaned and looked so crestfallen it impressed upon you how much horror he must deal with every day, prosecuting special victims cases in the big city. How much that weighed on him and made him see nothing but worst-case scenarios around every corner. It didn’t seem so strange now that he was single—it must be impossible to connect with anyone when you live like that.

“I just… want you to be safe,” he said quietly, eyes down. A swelling of sympathy flooded your heart, and formed a lump in your throat. Before you could think twice, you’d pulled him into your arms.

“I feel very safe with you, Rafael.” Your words drew a tiny, strangled noise from his chest, and his grip around you tightened.

The mood had shifted catastrophically, to the point that it seemed unlikely a one-night stand was in your future any longer. Barba walked slowly by your side, lost in reflective silence. Sex or no, you invited him up to your hotel room. You would never get enough of being around him, and couldn’t bear to say goodbye, even if you were only sitting up talking of somber issues late into the night.

But by the time the elevator doors closed, leaving you completely alone together for the first time, your libidos overpowered the gloom and his hands were all over your body, his mouth hot and fervent against your throat. You moaned wantonly, confident in the privacy the elevator afforded as it whisked you upward toward the eleventh floor. You slipped your hands inside his jacket, feeling his solid pectoral muscles stretching his shirt, and he cupped a hand between your legs, kneading the crotch of your pants. Even through your jeans, it sparked a fire that sizzled through your whole body. You pulled at his back, drawing more of his weight against you.

The elevator chimed and the doors slid open. Several cleaning ladies stared unimpressed as you and Barba quickly unhanded each other, stood straighter, and tried to pretend you were dignified professionals just riding an elevator together and definitely not almost having sex in there.

They were far more used to seeing this sort of thing than you were, judging by their almost bored eye rolls, but as you passed them on your way into the hall, one of them muttered something in rapid Spanish that made the other women giggle and Barba trip over his feet, face neon red, and look down at the front of his pants which were sporting a very conspicuous tent.

“Madre de Dios,” he groaned.

Shoulders convulsing with laughter, you took his arm and led him to room, uh… You fumbled in your purse for your room key with the number written on it.

“This is my first time doing this,” you confessed as the magnetic lock clicked and the light on the door changed from red to green.

“Having sex?”

“With someone I just met. In a bar!” you teased, turning the handle.

Part of you wondered when both of you were going to wake up and realize you were acting like horny teenagers—that you shouldn’t be doing this. But you hoped you wouldn’t, at least not until morning. You weren’t nervous. If you had been introspective that night, that would have surprised you the most. The whole confident, sexy Mimi Márquez, Out Tonight act was just a character you put on for karaoke to get psyched up and out of your shell. If you had been questioning yourself, you would have wondered how a shy good girl was having a one-night stand with a handsome Manhattan lawyer wearing a suit that cost more than your mortgage and not having an anxiety attack. But you weren’t questioning yourself, and you weren’t nervous. You looked in his intelligent eyes that were as pale as the underside of a silver maple leaf or dark as a dense hemlock grove depending on the lighting, and you simply wanted him.

***

He followed you into the dark hotel room, which was disappointingly small and shoddy for how expensive it was, so you left the lights off to preserve some mystery. The city glowed through the window brighter than a full moon, anyway. Barba pulled off his suit jacket, tossing it recklessly aside as he prowled toward you. Almost immediately, he thought better of this and found the heap of designer fabric on the floor next to the sandals you had kicked off, picked it up, smoothed it out, and carefully folded it over the back of an office chair at the little desk. He removed his tie and did the same.

You grinned behind your hand. Changing tunes so quickly from ravenously horny to prim—it didn’t surprise you that a guy who dressed as sharply as he did would have his priorities on wrinkle-avoidance even in the heat of the moment. It might have rubbed you as snobbish if it wasn’t so funny.

When he returned to you, his back was to the window, so you couldn’t make out the expression on his shadowed face, but the silhouettes of his shoulders were tense and his voice sheepish as if expecting a rebuke. “Sorry. I couldn’t leave it there. It’s a Brioni and—”

You slid your fingers under the pink-striped suspenders at both shoulders, closed your fists around them, and tugged. He lurched forward, and you caught his lips with yours. Letting out a surprised moan, he closed his eyes, and wrapped his arms around you, grateful you weren’t accusing him of vanity. You held firm to the elastic bands like a leash on him, pulling him closer when you wanted to deepen the contact until he was so enraptured he needed no extra encouragement to shove his tongue between your lips as they parted, his hands roaming your sides, your hair, and over the swell of your bottom, grabbing a handful.

“You really do… have the best ass… below 14th street,” he said devilishly, in between crushing his hungry mouth against yours.

Running down the length of his suspenders, your hands took a tour of his entire torso, enjoying the firm bulk of his chest, and the softness of his belly. You liked that there was something to love there. Gym rats with nothing but hard muscle were painfully dull. His stomach twitched ticklishly at your probing touch and he broke away from your lips to protest, so you continued your suspender tour all the way to the bottom, where the leather straps attached the elastic bands to his pants. His hips rocked forward, and his clothed cock pressed into your thigh. You let out a sultry breath and pushed your own hips back against him, lining him up against your clit to ignite a burning, tempting pressure between you. You couldn’t even kiss him. Your mouth hung slack, and all you could focus on was the friction of his hard cock against your aching cunt. You had to get out of these clothes.

“Bed. Now,” you huffed.

“Yeah.”

As he toed off his leather shoes, you slipped his suspenders off his shoulders and were slightly disappointed this did not immediately make his pants fall off. He climbed on top of the blanket, and you climbed onto his lap, throwing a leg over his hips.

An impressively sized hand with a vein meandering across it curled around that tempting leg, palming the tight denim stretched over your thighs. The hand rode up, found the bottom hem of your blouse and dove under it. You shivered as warm fingertips crested over your jeans and found your waiting skin.

“Are you okay with this?” he rasped, eyes flicking across your face.

“Keep going,” you nodded, the prickles of your skin screaming in protest at the thought that he might stop. His hand worked up your side, exploring new territory under your shirt. Every point of contact sent warm waves vibrating out to your most intimate parts. You lowered your mouth to his and your lips melted against his, pussy soaking through your underwear as you felt his body respond beneath you. His clever fingers found the band of your bra and inched over the fabric.

“Is this alright?” he paused his advance to check in again.

You leaned close and whispered, “I want you to touch me, papi,” darting your tongue just below his ear, and rolling your hips over his cock again. “Touch me everywhere.”

He growled, deep and throaty and thick with lust, his own hips bucking up to grind himself against yours. With your carte blanche permission given, a switch flipped inside him and he dove in, roughly palming your breasts with both hands, rolling the fat and finding your hardened nipples through your bra cups. Even through the thicker fabric, his thumbs circled and pinched the sensitive peaks hard enough that you whimpered with every sensation. Your hips were moving without your leave, desperately driving against his cock while your hands quickly worked to unbutton the front of your shirt. He had become an animal, his eyes unfocused, breathing heavy, lost in voracious need.

“S-slow down,” you tried asking, wondering if he would—if he could at this point, despite all his earlier talk of consent.

His hands were off you in an instant, and he was apologizing and asking if you were OK.

“Just testing your off switch,” you smirked as you finished the final button, and your blouse opened up. Marveling at the man beneath your legs, you unhooked the front clasp of your bra and felt his cock stir at the naked sight of you. Any lingering uncertainty was gone—you managed to score the most principled lay in all of New York sitting by himself in a karaoke bar, and you trusted him completely. “Since I already know your on switch, don’t I papi?”

He swore in Spanish, some excitingly lusty expressions you would have to take note of later.

“What was it again? Cómo se dice...” you teased, tapping your index finger against your lips in thought. You watched his pupils widen as you pinched your finger between your teeth. “Oh yeah. Damelo, papi. Damelo duro.”

Hearing those words from your perfect sensuous lips drove him wild. Grabbing your hips, he rolled you onto your back, swapping positions. His fevered mouth pressed wet kisses all over your exposed skin, heated breath dancing over your neck as his tongue flicked out to taste you. You reached down to curl your fingers into his thick, dark hair. He pushed your breasts, which had fallen to the sides, back together and ran his tongue through the cleavage. You drew in a sharp breath. “Just like that, papi,” you moaned. He took a nipple in his mouth, sucking and circling his tongue over it until your cunt was pulsating and your breath coming out in hard, ragged whimpers, then pinched it between his teeth, drawing a yelp of pleasure mixed with pain. You yanked at his hair and your hips bucked jerkily. Your core ached with emptiness, longing to be filled by his cock. You wrapped your legs around his lower back and pulled his hips down against you to feel more of him. The strangled noises in his throat were practically feral as his clothed sex rutted up against you, valiantly striving to be inside you through your pants. His mouth sloppily devoured your breasts until they were burned raw from his stubble.

He released your nipple with a wet noise and sat up to free his straining erection from his pants. The latching mechanism didn’t seem particularly hard, but after nearly a minute of fumbling he had made very little progress, and you held up a hand and told him to stop.

He whined and gave you puppy dog eyes, but did as you asked. “Is this another test?”

“No. It’s just… those pants are not that complicated.”

His head tipped in confusion.

“You’re really drunk, aren’t you?” You were tipsy yourself, but considering you could at least manage buttons, you had a sudden, sinking realization that he was far more incapacitated than you. He was so well-spoken and thoughtful you hadn’t noticed, but he was a lawyer—staying controlled and eloquent was his job. You might have been drunk, but he was drunk drunk. “If we have sex right now I think that would make me a predator.”

He frowned, cock still straining against the binds of his pants. “Technically, in New York state, being intoxicated does not invalidate sexual consent.”

“Don’t you lawyer this! I don’t care what’s technically legal—you are way too drunk. And I don’t want you waking up with regrets.”

His shoulders fell, because he knew you were right. It was a law he considered a glaring loophole, and he admired you for doing the right thing, but ¡maldita sea! he wished you were just a little less ethical. Deep down he knew he wouldn’t be doing this if he were in full command of himself tonight. But that was why he was so desperate to do it now. He would never let himself go again, not for a long time, and he would miss out on experiencing an intense—if ultimately not real—connection with someone. He would miss out on getting to be with you.

“Well...” you hesitated, watching the disappointment in his eyes displace what had moments ago been confidence and excitement, and tormented by your own unsatisfied ache. “I mean, we can still fool around, right?”

He laid his body down alongside you, his breath still coming in hot, shallow pants. His comforting weight settling beside you on the soft hotel mattress stirred up the coiling insistent heat between your legs. “Is this OK?” he whispered, voice heavy with lust. Blood pounded in your ears as his hand slipped under your waistband.

“Y-yeah, that’s OK,” you nodded. A compromise. It wasn’t sex. Technically.

Trapped tightly between your skin and your jeans, his fingers reached your slit, spreading it with surprising deftness to find your clit. Waves of pleasure exploded through your body as he pressed an irresistible finger to it, making your thighs spasm and lift off the mattress as you bit back a sinful cry. You were almost screaming from just one touch. The sound of throbbing blood in your ears was deafening, and your cunt throbbed in time with it to an unbearable tempo. God, you wanted him to fuck you with his cock.

He drew in a shaking breath as he observed your response, his lust-clouded eyes boring into you with a hint of the keen perceptiveness he used in court. He risked probing deeper, pushing a long digit farther into your panties, dragging it through your pussylips as you squirmed beneath him, then drew it back, dripping, to circle your clit, and smiled as you clamped a hand over your mouth to keep a neighbor-waking vocalization in check. You were soaking wet for him, and it made his erection strain jealously against the closure of his slacks. It had been too long, since he’d allowed himself time for anything other than work. It was almost unbearable having someone moan for him and not be able to fuck them. But you said no, so he focused on what you would allow him to do—on giving you the most earthshaking orgasm you’d ever experienced.

The tightness of your jeans was too restrictive, and you quickly unbuttoned them and zipped them down. “My papi’s fingers feel so good,” you groaned. “I want more of them.”

“You feel… so good,” he answered, lowering his mouth to yours for a fervent, but surprisingly tender kiss as he moved his fingertips over your swollen, stimulated cunt. He traced over your dripping entrance, and pressed in just the tip of one finger, leaving you gasping for more. He withdrew from your pants and brought his fingers to his lips, sucking them clean, his eyes closing as he savored it. “You taste good, too,” he whispered low and gravelly, almost a growl, though not one you would describe as predatory. There was no danger lurking behind those perceptive eyes—the thrill he gave you had a different source. Your tongue darted over his, dipping into his mouth to taste yourself on his broad tongue.

“Is papi going to fuck me with those fingers?” you challenged, enjoying the way his breath hitched every time you called him that. You’d heard it in passing and knew it was something like calling him “daddy,” but you’d never expected it to have such a big effect.

He helped you pull your jeans down below the swell of you ass, not bothering to take them all the way off and interrupt your pleasure any longer. Once he had all the access he needed, he plunged his fingers into you. He observed carefully, gauging your reaction in the way the slick walls of your cunt gripped and twitched around him, and the tone and frequency of your pleading moans. When one finger wasn’t enough, he added a second, satisfied with his judgment as you cried out and arched against him, your hands gripping the blanket at the stretch. “Te gusta, mamita?” he purred, but you were too breathless to give an answer except a throaty carnal whimper.

Adapting himself to your responses, he alternated penetrating you with his fingers and teasing your clit, kissing you hot and fierce, ramping up his intensity to draw louder and louder cries, leaving a trail of wet bruises down your neck. Curling his fingers inside you, he hit a sweet spot that made your legs begin to tremble. You wailed uninhibited and raw, too overwhelmed with pleasure to try to rile him with another “papi.” He sucked your pulse point under your ear, savoring the feeling of your blood racing beneath his lips. Knowing how turned you were, how much he was affecting you was so deliciously invigorating to his ego. As easily as he could command a courtroom, he’d never had the same confidence in his body. Past lovers would say he had perfect technique, but no soul, no intuition for what a they needed—but here you were, cunt twitching on his fingers, moaning over and over for him.

Your eyes kept closing to focus on what he was doing between your thighs, but when they opened you saw how intensely he was watching you. The arousal on his face as he watched was intoxicating. You had never seen such anyone look at you with such wanton lust, and it heightened your excitement.

“Rafael… Raf—oh, fuck,” you hissed, jerking your hips up to deepen the penetration. “Keep going... deeper!”

“Dime, ‘más profundo,’” he ordered softly, but confidently.

“M-más profundo, papi.”

“Eres buena estudiante,” he praised, a smile lighting his eyes as he sank his fingers deeper with enthusiasm. You were getting close, the fire singing between your thighs blossoming outward through your entire body but always coiling tighter in your core, building an unbearable tension that threatened to break you. He rocked his hips, and the heat twisted tighter at the feeling of his iron-hard cock grinding against you.

You squeezed your hand between your two bodies, groping blindly down his stomach until you found his pants and the massive tent he was pushing into your leg. You grasped the hard outline of his cock, squeezing it and working it through his clothes. He drew a sharp breath and for a moment the rhythmic thrusting of his fingers stuttered and paused. His hemlock-green eyes were black with arousal as they examined you. Then he rocked his hips, thrusting into your palm with a low groan, and his fingers pumped into you again with renewed vigor.

“Que buena chica eres… Just like that,” he croaked. His breathing was growing ragged, he was starting to fall apart with your hand working his cock.

He adjusted his weight to free his other hand, stroking the side of your face as he pressed a passionate kiss to your lips. His thumb kneaded your cheeks as they smiled against his mouth and went slack with lust. His mouth wandered lower, teasing your collar bone with light nips to make you yelp and sigh, then bending to take a mouthful of breast. He withdrew his two slick fingers from the depths of your cunt and circled your clit slowly, gently—then fast and rough as he sucked at a hardened nipple, drawing a shattered gasp from your throat. You rubbed his cock frantically, trying to repay some small amount of the pleasure he was giving you. When he plunged his fingers back inside, he added a third, and you moaned at the added fullness—at being stuffed tight, almost too much for you to handle, an intense pleasure threaded through with pain.

“Oh, fuck,” you cried out, eyes rolling back as you felt your climax build, every nerve ending in your body on fire.

“Is that a good fuck, or a bad fuck?”

“Good,” you stammered, barely holding yourself together. “Don’t stop, papi, I’m almost there.” The hint of pain faded into pure bliss as you imagined it was his cock splitting you open.

His eyes gleamed wickedly as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, watching you come undone with every stroke. This horrible week, he had felt so helpless, useless. It made him doubt himself. But this—this he had control over. Your body. Your arousal. Everything that had fallen apart wasn’t his fault; it was because of circumstances outside his authority to influence. When he was given complete control, this was his effect. He could get any result he wanted, elicit any twitch of your cunt, any moan from your lips, and have you singing in ecstasy just from his fingers. Imagine if you let him fuck you, the songs he could have you singing then.

He angled his hand so his palm was rubbing against your clit as he thrust, and he could tell you were riding the edge of the precipice by the helpless mewling whimpers pouring from your lips with increased fervor, how your walls began to invite him deeper, taking more of him until he was buried three knuckles deep and you were still bucking your hips to intensify each thrust, starving for more. His own hips began rocking at a frantic pace into your hand.

“Rafael… Oh, Rafael,” you moaned. You loved the shape of his name in your mouth. It was like you weren’t even strangers, the more you said it. For him, it would have been too personal for a casual hookup most nights, but for some reason it turned him on even more than when you called him papi.

“Ven conmigo,” he urged softly, his hips stroking at a delirious pace that did not match his calm tone. You didn’t recognize what it meant, but the sound of Spanish rolling over his tongue mixed with the wet lewd noises of his fingers fucking you drove you to the edge.

“I’m gonna—I’m gonna...” Your voice broke.

He ducked his head back to your chest and drew a nipple between his teeth, sucking hard just as you came over the precipice and pushing you off it with a violent shove until you wailed out loud, careening into a free-fall steeper and farther than you’d prepared for, your back arching and your walls crashing around his fingers, clenching and convulsing around them.

“Open your eyes,” he said. “Look at me.” You could hear the lawyer in his voice—controlled, assertive. Not quite a command, but your eyes fluttered open obediently. Holding eye contact while your body was being rocked by wave upon wave of fierce climax was too intimate, but he repeated his request low and soft as a tiger’s purr. Your met his gaze and held it. The look of lust on his face, his lips softly parted, lower lip quivering, renewed the strength of your orgasm and sent another shockwave coursing through you.

He kept pumping into you through your orgasm, riding out the aftershocks, until your legs were shaking and weak. The sensation of you coming on his fingers turned him on so much, he only needed to rock into your hand once more, flick his tongue over your breast, and he lost control. He was not vocal as you were as his thighs trembled with his own release, but his hips slowed, and then stopped, their desperate thrusting, and you felt a warm, wet spot soak through the front of his pants. Your gasping cries were stochastic and desperate now, overstimulated—you pushed his hand out of your underwear to stop his relentless fingers, and he rolled off of you heavily.

Laying back on the soft pile of hotel pillows, he slowed his breathing, then sucked his fingers clean one by one with a lascivious growl of pleasure. You watched him, shivering with fascination, and he glanced back at you with a piercing gaze. “I want to fuck you next time. Por favor, déjame a cogerte.”

Next time. You turned away, your cheeks burning up. You never assumed there would be a next time to this, but your heart wouldn’t stop beating at the thought.

“Next time sounds good. That was…” You turned back to praise him, but his eyes were already closed, and a light snore was emanating from his nose. “...Amazing, you lightweight.”

The dizzying effect of all the booze was catching up alarmingly quickly now that you were spent. After the strenuous effort of tugging the blanket out from under Barba so you could tuck it over him, you were completely worn out, and within a minute you were fast asleep as well, cuddled under his arm, your chests rising and falling in unison.

#Rafael Barba #Rafael Barba x Reader #Raúl Esparza #SVU #smut #Barba x female reader #My writing #thatesqcrush kink bingo #I am curious how intelligible this is to someone who speaks zero spanish #hopefully the dialogue tags & context explain enough

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