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muddyorbsblr · 1 year

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keep me safe

See the full 14 Days Collection here! See my full list of works here!

Summary: You run into a tent for safety after being chased by a massive insect-like creature while collecting flora samples from Skull Island. The tent belongs to James Conrad.

Pairing: James Conrad x Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: 18+ | smut (minors & pearl clutchers, exit stage left); oral (f receiving); fingering; unprotected p in v; kinda public sex (they're in a tent but y'know people can hear…) [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: coworkers to lovers

"I really don't think we should be this far out from camp, Y/L/N. According to Marlow's notes--"

"Forget about Marlow's notes," you hissed at Brooks, walking even further into the greenery of the island. "Look at this flora! I'm pretty sure some of these we can't even find in any textbook known to man. If we come back home with these samples we could win the Nobel for discovering a new species of jungle flora. And what if the key to proving Randa's research was found on this side of the island? What then, Brooks? Would you still tell me that we're going to follow Marlow's notes and miss out on the chance to finally prove to the scientific community that we're not certifiable? That we deserve to be taken seriously?"

"Well we should at least call for one of the soldiers to back us up. Or Conrad."

You bristled at the mention of the name; having him here would only put you on edge, trying so hard not to look a complete fool in front of the former SAS tracker and also trying your damnedest to not let him see that you'd started having feelings for the man.

"Why? So he could tell us how stupid we are for not listening to 'sound advice'? Brooks, when did anyone who made any measurable breakthrough in our community ever do so by listening to 'sound advice'?"

"They weren't surrounded by giant creatures that could kill them within nanoseconds, Y/N!"

"We don't know that!" you snapped back, stopping in your tracks to look back at your clearly hesitant lab partner, the fear emanating from him palpable even from where you stood. "Look," you sighed, thinking of a way to grant him a modicum of relief in this forsaken island. "You can head back to camp, okay? I'll be fine. I'll just collect a few samples for us to bring home so that we can actually have something to give the board reason to give us more funding when we come back. With more backup so we can collect the rest."

"You promise it's just a few samples?"

You gave him your best attempt at a reassuring smile. "Five at most. I promise."

His only response to you was an exaggerated sigh. "Lead the way." He waved his hand toward the expanse of trees less than a hundred meters away.

You'd just bagged your first sample and were prepping to collect the second a few feet away when you heard his shallow, ragged breathing.

"Brooks, honestly you don't need to stay with me if you're scared of what lies beyond Marlow's little safety threshold," you grumbled, starting to carefully cut the mysterious flower in front of you at the stem.

"Y/N…" he squeaked out, his voice barely audible had it not been for the pin drop quiet of the island. "Behind you."

It felt like ice shot straight through your veins at his words; you didn't even wanna dare look at what he was referring to, but you knew that if you wanted to have a chance at dealing with your problems, you had to face them head on.

Or at least that was what you thought.

You rose to your feet slowly and turned around, holding in the shriek that threatened to escape you when you were face to face with a creature that you could only best describe as a giant cockroach, its antennae moving in sweeping motions that barely missed grazing the top of your head.

"We should run," you whispered in a rush as you heard the leaves rustling from where Brooks began to sprint away from you. You didn't waste any time and quickly followed suit.

You moved as fast as your legs could take you, willing yourself not to think about how you could hear the creature following you both. The way the ground sounded like it was crunching beneath the force of its steps as it chased you and Brooks in the direction of the camp.

The moment a tent came into view you ran towards it, ignoring Brooks' calls towards you and just hoping that your friend would make it out of this alive. Once you'd stepped into the temporary shelter of the tent, you tried to catch your breath, closing your eyes and focusing on trying to calm yourself.

"Y/L/N?" You froze at the sound of the brusque voice that greeted you. Fucking hell why'd it have to be Conrad's tent? Should you even bother opening your eyes to see the annoyed disappointment on his face the second he realized where exactly you came from? "Y/N…"

Your eyes snapped open at the gentle tone of his voice when he said your name, failing to mask the surprise when you saw that he wasn't visibly annoyed at your clear disobedience of the ground rules to never even think of traveling West. Instead he looked concerned, which felt infinitely worse and had you gasping out your next words. "I'm sorry."

Your breathing came in ragged, nearly hyperventilating as he walked toward you, placing his hands on your upper arms. "You're shaking." That seemed to make your breaths come in even faster, shallower…like the more you tried to calm yourself the worse your panic became. "Tell me what happened." You fought against the urge to relax into his touch as he started to stroke your skin with his thumbs; the clear reluctance in you was most probably the cause of his exasperated sigh. "At least come sit down. Catch your breath. Please."

The way he breathed out the word had you inwardly tensing, bracing yourself for him to start berating you even as he held you by your hands while leading you further into his tent to sit at the edge of his cot. "I went West," you admitted with your head hung low, squeezing your eyes shut when you felt him rubbing his thumbs across the back of your hands. "I wanted to collect samples of the flora and--"

"You were chased." You nodded your confirmation. "Tell me about the creature."

"About twice my height, as big as one of our tanks on hand…looks like a giant cockroach but…kinda pale?" You started shaking at the image of the creature slowly and surely imprinting itself in your mind again, feeling like your throat was constricting. "I have to check on Brooks--"

"He'll be fine." His hold on your hands tightened slightly when you tried to stand up, wordlessly ordering you to stay put. "He's tougher than he seems, he'll survive. If you go out right now in your current state, however, you won't."

"Excuse me--"

"That creature you described…it tracks by smelling the pheromones that one excretes when they're distressed. Afraid. It can quite literally smell your fear--"

Those words had you on your feet and slipping out of his hold within seconds, ready to exit his tent. "Fuck. I'm so sorry, I probably led it right to you--"

"Y/N, breathe." He grabbed hold of you again, pulling you into a gentle embrace, one hand cradling your head while the other rubbed at your back in slow, soothing motions. "You'll be alright. We'll be alright. You just need to breathe. You're worsening your fear even I can feel it, little spitfire. Try to remove it from your mind." He tucked your head under his chin, the soft shh'ing sounds from him throwing you off kilter as you continued to draw in shaky breaths. "Just breathe with me."

You did your best to match the breaths he was guiding you through, curiously finding yourself relaxing against him as he paired his guiding breaths with the movements of his hand on your back. When you began to feel yourself calming down some, that was when you became acutely aware of your head pressed against his chest, the beat of his heart thumping in your ears, racing almost as fast as your own.

Just as you were about to pull away from him, the sound of heavy footfalls paired with a slight rumbling of the ground made you flinch against him, shame overcoming you as a small whimper escaped your lips. "Oh, that creature did a number on you, didn't it?"

"Yes…" you mumbled, mortified that you'd begun to shake in his arms again.

"Then it appears putting it out of your mind is the wrong approach," he murmured, and you could have sworn you felt him press a kiss to the top of your head. Impossible, you hissed at yourself. It's just your fear playing tricks on you, stupid Y/N. "We'll just have to put your mind onto something else then."

This time you were sure he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, and then again to your cheek, ghosting his lips down to the corner of your mouth. "What're you doing?" Your question was barely even audible with the way your heart started pounding in your ears once again.

"Distracting you," he answered simply, letting out a soft moan as he pressed his lips to yours, weaving his fingers through your hair and tightening his hold on you. "Don't think about anything else." He murmured the words against your lips letting out a deep, sinful groan when you began to kiss him back. "Just feel…Focus on me…I'll keep you safe."

You found yourself reaching up and resting your arms on his shoulders as he lifted you off your feet to lay you down on the cot, the metal frame creaking slightly from your combined weight on it. When his lips left yours to start trailing down your neck, you began to squirm in his hold as his hands began to push up the fabric of your tank top, baring your stomach to press his lips to the newly exposed skin. "Conrad…"

"Keep your eyes closed, darling. I want you to think of nothing except what you're feeling in this moment. Tell me what you're feeling." You shuddered at the feel of his lips tracing along the waistband of your panties, letting out a shameless moan when his tongue flicked against your skin.

"You. Just you."

When you felt his fingers hook around the waistband of your underwear, you lifted your hips instinctively and Conrad disrobed you from the waist down in one fluid motion. "Good girl," he whispered as he pressed his lips down your thigh, curling his hand around your knee and parting your legs. "Fuck." He let out a groan that sent another rush of wetness between your legs, feeling your walls clenching at the thought of him with his eyes on you.

He ghosted his lips along the inside of your thigh, working his way up until finally you felt his tongue tracing along your folds, only licking into your entrance for a brief moment that had you arching your back off the cot. "Please--"

"Tell me you're mine," he murmured against you, the vibrations against your skin making you even wetter than you already were. The only response you had was an incoherent whimper. "Tell me you'll still be mine even after this. After today. After this mission." He pressed another searing kiss to the inside of your thigh, sucking a bruise onto the sensitive skin that had you desperately calling his name.

You struggled to form words in between thready breaths. "Only if…you're mine."

He pressed a brief open-mouthed kiss to your clit, making you arch your hips against him. "You truly didn't know…I've been yours for quite a while."

"Then I'm yours," you breathed out, a smile reflexively pulling at the corners of your mouth as his words began to sink in. He felt the same way. He saw himself as yours. The exhilaration from the combined effect of his words and the way he was currently licking into your entrance with long, languid strokes of his tongue, had you blurting out the words, "I want to see you."

"Not yet," he rasped before closing his lips around your clit and sucking on the aching bundle of nerves while his tongue flicked over it in a near merciless pace. When your legs began to quiver on his shoulders he pulled away from you. "Don't open your eyes until I tell you to, Y/N. Promise me." You could only manage a broken moan of his name as he circled your clit with the tip of his tongue.

You breathed out your assent so faintly you'd be surprised if he even heard it, arching your hips once again into his mouth when he resumed his attentions to your clit, only this time partnered with him inserting two unthinkably long fingers inside of you and curling up, stroking against that soft spot inside of you that had you seeing stars from behind your eyelids.

This time when your legs began to shake against him he didn't stop until you'd reached your crescendo, your back arching as you screamed his name to the high heavens until you could only whimper incoherent syllables as he withdrew his fingers from you, holding your legs open as he wantonly lapped at your release. The feel of him humming sounds of satisfaction against your skin had you growing wet again, the sounds coming from you resembling a garbled utterance of 'more'.

He lifted your legs from his shoulders, the sound of him undoing his belt buckle and unzipping his pants echoing loudly in your ears as your body thrilled in anticipation for what he would do next. You could tell from how the cot shifted in weight and the sounds of the metal frame creaking that he was making his way up the cot so your faces were level with one another.

"Look at me, darling." You opened your eyes, failing to hold back a gasp as you saw him hovering over you, pupils blown out to turn his usually cool steel blue eyes a near complete obsidian black, cheeks flushed as he tried to catch his breath, his lips shining with your release even in the dimmed light of the tent. He gave you a soft smile before resting his forehead against yours. "Just look at me. You're safe. You're okay. I won't let anything happen to you."

"Why wouldn't you let me see you earlier?"

"You want the truth?" You nodded at him with wide eyes as if to say 'Do you really have to ask?'. "Because I knew if you did and you saw even a shadow of what was going on around us, your fear would return, and it would get you."

"You mean--?"

"It was right outside." Tears began to flood your eyes as the realization sank in. Just how close you two really were to the danger you caused. All because you wanted to go West and feed your ego by trying your luck at the Nobel. "Hey, hey…it's okay. Everything's going to be fine." You could feel yourself relaxing again as he pressed soft kisses to your temple, down your cheekbone, and finally on the tip of your nose.

When he moved his head to kiss at your neck, a hand reaching between you to line himself up at your entrance, the world around you began to blur again as you began to whine his name.

"Just focus on me," he rasped as he started to inch his way inside of you. "Look at me and tell me what you're feeling."

Your eyes met as he pushed the rest of him inside you, a guttural sound escaping his lips as your sex surrounded his entire length. "You. Just you."

A/N: I honestly can't believe that this event's more than halfway done already and so many amazing stories have been included in the collection 🥹🥹. That's a wrap for James Conrad as far as 14 Days goes but here's hoping that my lil thotty brain can come up with stories for him in the future 🫠

No part 2 is planned for this story. There is, however, a 'what if…?' episode planned. Non-smut though.

'everything' taglist: @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @imalovernotahater @mygfloki @lucylaufeyson3 @thomase1 @fictive-sl0th @mochie85 @laliceee @xorpsbane @gigglingtigger @silverfire475 @cabingrlandrandomcrap @vickie5446 @salempoe @lokixryss @sinsandguilt @lokidbadguy @alexakeyloveloki @glitterylokislut @cakesandtom @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mischief2sarawr @thedistractedagglomeration @five-miles-over @goblingirlsarah @huntress-artemiss @holymultiplefandomsbatman @lovingchoices14 @devilsadvocactus @lokiprompts @sititran @ladyjames78 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @kats72 @creationsbyme @coldnique @athalialaufeyson @simplyholl @tallseaweed @sarahscribbles @unlucky-number-13 @ozymdias @maple-seed @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfsmom1 @km-ffluv @psychospore @loopsisloops @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @lovelysizzlingbluebird @peaches1958

#14 days of valentines collection #james conrad x reader #james conrad x female reader #james conrad smut #james conrad fanfiction #james conrad fanfic #kong skull island #muddyorbs writes

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spinningwebsandtales · 11 months

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Imagine Getting Flustered At Dante’s Flirting

Dante X FemReader

Rating: T

Warnings: Super bad pickup lines (seriously so bad they’re terrible), Dante has no shame, suggestive themes, and violence

Word Count: 846

(A/N:) I’ve had this idea in my drafts for awhile and I am so happy to finally getting around to writing it! I researched cheesy pickup lines and chose the ones I thought sounded the most like what Dante would say. Oh my gosh the cringe. It made me laugh though. Hopefully my fellow Dante fangirls will find this cringey funny as well! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

There was two things that you never wanted to happen when going on missions with Dante, that was bodily injury or Dante getting bored. And right now the latter was happening and you were suffering for it. This mission had started out rough but had cooled off quickly as it had now become a waiting game. You were stuck in close quarters with Dante and he was becoming relentlessly annoying. He liked the pass the time by annoying you majority of the time. But this time he decided to go a different route and embarrass you enough that it would leave you flustered the majority of the day.

The cramped quarters had him leaning over you, his hot breath causing you to tremble as the hair that had escaped your ponytail brushed your neck. Dante knew the affect he had on you and he smirked to himself. Before puffing an extra hot breath that had you jumping back a little bit. Your body pressed against his gave him an idea as he wrapped an arm around your waist and drew you even closer against him.

“I would take you to the movies after this,” he purred and you glanced back only to see unfettered glee. “But they won’t let you bring in your own snacks.”

You groaned trying to worm away, which only made his grip tighten. Your cheeks were beginning to burn and there may have been a twinge of a headache threatening your skull. But your disgust was only pushing him onward.

“Babe,” Dante cooed, placing his mouth right at your ear to breathlessly whisper. “If you were a Transformer, you’d be Optimus Fine.”

“Oh come on Dante,” you groaned trying harder to get away. “I like Optimus Prime don’t ruin Transformers for me.”

“Are you telling me that I have competition with a giant robot?”

“Keep telling me horrible pickup lines and you won’t have to worry about competition, cause I will bury you,” you snarled.

Dante eased off for a little while, letting you keep an eye out for the devil you were both pursuing. But once again he grew bored. He started with stroking the bare skin on your arm. Lovingly tracing your calloused digits before tangling his fingers with yours. You didn’t mind this part of him, you actually thought he could be quite sweet when he wasn’t being obnoxious. You sucked in a breath when he brought your hand to his chest, the hair on his chest tickling your skin. He had another cocky grin on his lips as you tried to tug away.

“It’s okay I just want you to feel my shirt,” Dante purred pulling you roughly where you fell against him. “It’s made of husband material.”

“Oh my gosh please stop!”

“Your middle name must be Gillette baby,” he paused kissing the tip of your nose. “Because you’re the best a man can get.”

“Nooo,” you groaned. “You don’t even shave you idiot!”

“I would for you,” he answered.

You glared, “No you wouldn’t. Can you just please focus on the mission instead of goofing around?!”

“I’m beginning to think you’re a bank loan sweetheart...”

You were seriously contemplating punching him in the mouth. Unfortunately it would just hurt your hand and it wouldn’t take him long to heal up and be back up to blathering away and telling you horrible pickup lines.

“Cause you have all my interest,” Dante finished.

Before you could say anything, your saving grace finally emerged from the shadows. You wordlessly tore from Dante’s grip and jumped from the window. Immediately Dante followed, entering the fray and fighting by your side. He was surprisingly quiet while you both battled. He must have figured out you had had enough of his foolishness for the moment. When you were fighting, if he wasn’t careful you had no qualms about putting a knife in him by “accident”. With the devil dispatched and Redgrave safe once more, Dante took you both back home. You had never been so happy to see the Devil May Cry office.

You tugged your boots off, chucking them by the front door and unstrapping your weapons. With the weight gone, you felt so much more comfortable. You stretched and yawned, thinking about taking a shower when Dante stepped at your side.

“I’m in the mood for pizza,” he said and you deflated happy that it wasn’t another pickup line.

When he grasped your wrist tightly, you jerked looking up to find him grinning once again. You tried escaping but he quickly swept you off your feet into his arms.

“A pizza you that is,” he laughed as you struggled to free yourself.

“I freaking hate you and your stupid pickup lines,” you screeched trying to fight the blush that refused to go away. Dante kissed you gently on the lips, carrying you to the back of the building. He wanted to make it up to you as you really put up with a lot. He mostly liked seeing you so flustered, so he didn’t plan on quitting now or ever.

#Dante X Reader #Dante / Reader #Dante #DMC #Devil May Cry #Dante Imagine #DMC Imagine #Imagine #Not My Gif #My Writing

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whattheshock · 7 months

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⭐️ STAR TREATMENT (miguel o'hara band au)

summary: miguel's still pissing you off, but maybe he's different than he seems... wc: 1117 cw: use of y/n, harassment

⋆part 3⋆ masterlist

"ugh, where is he?" you asked in frustration. "this is the second time he's missed rehearsal this week & the tour starts in 9 days!" you slid down the wall, sinking to the floor, your head in your hands.

it'd been a little over 2 months since the record exec showed up at a show & offered spider sense a record deal. the band was so excited, but miguel seemed like he couldn't care less. he argued about every detail on the contract, stormed out of the recording studio as fast as he could as soon as their sessions ended, & seemed to dread going on tour more & more by the day, telling you he'd 'rather die than be cooped up on a tour bus with these pendejos for months.'

"just ignore him, if he wants to be an asshole & not participate, there's not much we can do." dean said as he packed up his bass in its case.

"seriously?"

"we would do something but no one wants to get into it with that guy..." aiden said as he slung his guitar case over his shoulder.

"so you guys do do anything? you just let him treat you like shit just because he can drum?"

they all looked at each other. "yeah..." they all said in unison as the continued clearing out their studio.

you scoffed & rolled your eyes as you approached caleb. "why haven't you guys just kicked him out? is there no other drummer for your band?"

"look, [y/n]..." caleb stopped packing up his bag & turned to face you. "we don't exactly like dealing with him, but he's the most talented drummer i've ever met, he makes our band sound the way it does... as much as i wanna swipe those drumsticks right out of his big, stupid hands & snap them in half & smash his skull into his bass drum... i can't... i don't expect you to get it-"

"no, i get it, i do... as much as you don't want him, you need him..."

"right... oh, do you need a ride home? i know your car's in the shop & all..."

"nah, it's fine."

"but it's raining-"

"it's fine, caleb, i'm not gonna make you drive all the way to the other side of town just for me..." you said with a smile. "see you soon." you gave him a friendly kiss on the cheek & left the studio.

thankfully, the rain was light, but this part of new york was always to gloomy when it rained. it was late, the buzz of barely working neon signs filling your ears.

"hey..." a breathy voice said, it was coming from the alleyway. the voice belonged to an older man hiding in the shadows, his face illuminated by his cigarette. you kept walking. "oh, c'mon, won't you give me a smile?" he said as he walked out on to the sidewalk. you continued walking faster. "c'mon..." he reached out, grabbing your bag, pulling you back with it.

"hey! let go!" you grabbed it back from him. suddenly, there was a loud honk & a cherry red sports car pulled up next to the sidewalk. it was an older car but still ridiculously nice. the tinted window on the driver's side rolled down, a few raindrops falling into the car.

"get in," miguel said. you looked back at him in disbelief before taking his offer & quickly getting in the passenger seat before he drove off, splashing the man with rain water, probably on purpose.

"sorry, i'm getting your nice car all wet..."

"whatever, it's fine." miguel grumbled, keeping his focus on the road.

awkward silence filled the car. finally, you spoke up. "why did you help me?"

"excuse me?"

"why did you help me?"

he rolled his eyes. "what, was i just supposed to do nothing? what kind of man would i be if i just left someone out in the rain to keep getting harrassed, especially someone i know?"

"oh, so you just helped me because you would've felt guilty," you scoffed. "i thought you actually cared for a second there..."

"what makes you think i don't?" he stared at me intensely as we were stopped at a red light. "whatever... where do you live?"

"excuse me?"

"can't exactly take you home if i don't know where your home is." he said a bit sarcastically.

"oh, right, uh... 2099 north avenue..."

the light turned green he started driving you home. the rain was loud against the car, so you put your headphones on to drown it out.

"what are you listening to?" miguel asked. you rolled your eyes & leaned against the cold window, ignoring him, so he lifted them off of your ear.

"hey!" you said as the sounds of arctic monkeys spilled out of your headphones. you slapped his hand away & adjusted your headphones back onto your ear.

"you have good taste..." he said, a faint smile crossing his lips.

you were shocked. "did you just... smile?" a smile of your own appearing on your face as you teased him.

"what is that supposed to mean? am i not allowed to smile or something?"

"no, it's just... you never smile, you've got serious resting bitch face."

"resting bitch face?" he asked with a laugh.

"yeah, you constantly look pissed, & you act like it, too... you're an asshole, y'know..."

"really? so you really think i'm some massive asshole who doesn't care about anyone or anything?"

"yeah, basically... that's the impression we're all getting from you."

"hm..." his grip on the steering wheel tightened. "i'll keep that in mind, because that's not who i am, & that's not how i wanna be seen..."

silence filled the car as he pulled up in front of your apartment building. "thank you... i don't know if i thanked you before..."

"it's fine, it wasn't any trouble... do you need me to walk you to your apartment or-"

"no, i'll be fine, thanks again." you smiled & without thinking, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. your eyes went wide, realizing what you'd just done. you quickly opened the car door, awkward yelling "bye!" before closing the door & running inside without looking back.

you hurried up the stairs to the 5th floor, finally reaching apartment 505, unlocking the door & slamming it after you went inside. you pressed your back against the door, listening to the faint sounds of rain against the windows & your pounding heart. there was a strange feeling in the pit of your stomach & you gripped your shirt tightly. was it anger? anxiety? embarrassment? no, it was butterflies.

you were falling for miguel.

an: tysm for reading part 3 of star treatment! i'm so sry this chapter is late i was having srs writer's block... lmk if u have any questions (my inbox is always open!) or wanna be tagged in new chapters! reblogs r greatly appreciated :)

credit to @benkeibear for the dividers

taglist: @freehentai

part 4 coming soon...

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tehriel · 1 year

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Terzo x reader

A snippet of my first chapter

No warnings needed for this, a little spicier in later chapters. Slow burn, lots of character interaction.

Reader insert is a commission painter, little murder, little intrigue. Ghouls. Fun.

Ps. I don't speak Italian, google translate take the wheel.

“You can speak, you know?” You said after a while, as the stench of oil paint streamed out the church’s window and into the warm of early autumn. The set was then together with satin drapery in the background, golds and purples to compliment Papa’s robes and a gathering of ornate trinkets you found might be interesting to paint. Basket of apples on a pedestal for temptation, fig leaves, Adam, Eve, interesting goat statue. But Papa had started fidgeting, they alway did. Especially someone who is as strangely pent up as Papa. “I'm only sketching in shapes, expression comes in much later, I've got basics for the skull and hand. You can rest them for now, if you'd like.”

“I see,” he said quietly, setting down the skull and stretching his hand to rest on the arm rest. “So uh, hmm, what got you into painting, caro Pittore?”

Caro Pittore, he’d said it enough you googled it while setting up, ‘dear Painter’ in masculine. The man had game, and still, you couldn't bring yourself to ask him to stop on that front.

You gave a soft sigh, pretty much everyone asked that question, “I don't really have an exciting plot for you, Storyteller, same as anyone got their job, except for maybe you, is that a lineage…?” you raised a finger to stop yourself. “What would be more fun, and something I've done with clients before, we play a game of assumptions. You only get to meet a person for the first time once in your life. Why ruin the surprise with real answers? Life is so boring. Tell me, who do you think I am, or shall I start with you?”

A glint blossomed in his eye just long enough for you to catch it in your piece, just a sketch, it could get lost in the layers but for now, it was there. “Please, Pittore, it’s your game, show me how it is played.”

“Let’s see,” you turned your head this way, then that, sizing him up. “When you were four, your best friend was a goat. You were of course born within the church and so goats are very friendly faces to you.” A smile cracked over his face, “his name was Stanley.”

“Stanley the fucking goat? From Italy, huh?”

“Why are you laughing at his name? He was your best friend! Goats don’t live as long as you are old, so may he ever Rest In Peace.”

“Old, huh? Shit, we can't be more than ten years apart.”

“If I'm honest I cannot tell, your makeup makes it completely ambiguous. Your turn.”

“Okay, uh, you said you've painted for churches before, you grew up religious, si?”

“The detective work!” You leaned into it with a surprised look.

“Boarding school, horrible catholic nuns, you saw through the dogma but to this day some sexual acts are too taboo for you to even consider… or did it entirely push you in the other direction, huh?”

“Yes, I am still scared of nuns, her name was sister Josie and she liked hitting kids with rulers entirely too much,” you said very seriously.

“How close was I, caro Pittore?”

“Somewhere between very close and not even in the ballpark.” You laughed back, “is that a back story or a personal kink, Papa?”

“Eh, you know, religious trauma, anti-pope,” he pointed at the hat with his free no- longer-skulled hand, “it's a thing.”

“What is the pope-hat called?”

“Pope-hat?!” He almost broke posture in laughter, but he restrained himself. “It's a mitre.”

“Ah, such a sexy name for a pope-hat. Either way, I’m glad I fit your bill Papa, and you--you became Papa Emeritus the third, because there was a bloody tournament where all the Papas fought eachother and though you won, you had to consume all the others to gain their knowledge.”

“Yes, of course, it was a very uh, prestigious tournament called the, 'tournament where we just fucking eat eachother’, but it's in old Latin so it sounds better than when I say it. Si.”

“You must be very knowledgeable then.”

“Eh, only the bedroom expertise tracked across unfortunately, but you know, in their name I make sure it doesn't go to waste,” he actually winked at you.

You shook your head with laughter and scribbled in a wink with your burnt umber, to get lost in the layer but stay marked there forever. You took a sip from your water bottle, legs growing tired from standing.

“Along with the religious trauma, you have ‘daddy’ issues,” he accused.

“Ah, I’ve seen what you've done there, Papa.”

“Si, you know, really heavy issues with your father, you once fought him on a yacht, he fell over the side, pshhh.” He looked like he wanted to move his hands in an animated kind of way but held back. “You never saw him again. You thought he was dead but he faked it… found him in Mexico years later with a new step momma,” he shook his head and looked genuinely crestfallen for you.

You nearly spat out the water you had been sipping on. “Oh, well, my ‘daddy issues’ make me fight the patriarchy and get spicy in bed. Obviously not too spicy, don't want to stoke the vengeful ghost of sister Josie…”

“When did she pass? I'm so sorry,”

You giggled, “but your mummy issues just make you sad and unable to control your emotions!”

“Is that fucking right? Not projecting are we?”

“I don't know what you mean, Papa~ and yes, she treated you so poorly, she used to use you as a footrest while she watched her shows. Even now ‘the days of our lives’ opening theme gives you flashbacks.”

“And through all my shitty violent outbursts you think you can fix me, si?”

“Yes of course, naw, Papa, we’ve all seen how far you've come and we are so proud of you.”

Papa Emeritus gave up holding his pose and leaned forward laughing. “I very much like this game,” he raised a gold clawed finger.

“Oh, bless your unholiness, you miss your mother so much, you wear her nails.”

“Stop, fermare, non, it hurts,” he held his stomach.

Thank you for reading and thank you tumblr for removing all my lovely italics,

More here:

#ghost #ghost band #ghost fanfiction #terzo x reader #terzo #reader insert #ghost bc #the band ghost #fan fiction #fanfic #ghost fanfic #papa emeritus lll #papa terzo #papa emeritus iii #terzo fanfic

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6lackfiction · 3 years

Text

A Little Jealous

Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, Smut, Sex Acts, 18+

Plot: You finally meet Chris’ friends but he doesn’t like it when you start to flirty with one of them, he wants to punish you and he does.

“You’re shaking” he clasped your hands holding them tight “don’t be nervous they’ll love you I promise”

You sighed looking up at him, he kept saying that to you throughout the day and a part of you doubted it, meeting your boyfriend’s friends is terrifying and you were afraid that they wouldn’t like you but you didn’t want to back out now after seeing him so happy when you agreed to join him “Ok you’re right, let’s just get this over with”

“That’s the spirit” he chucked as he climbed out of the car and came round to your side.

He held your hand firmly as you approached the home, you noticed how insanely big it was and before either of you were at the from door you heard the sound of the music booming which eased you a lot and you were secretly grateful for

“God he said it wasn’t a party” he groaned, thumping his fist against the door. After he reached to open the front door which was already unlocked.

“Joe you said a small gathering!” He yelled into the house over the music when his eyes landed on his friend.

“You know me, I can’t help it” he stretched his arms out giving Chris a bear hug, he moved to the living room and gestured with his head for you and Chris to follow him

“CHRIS!” Bellowed the group of people in the living room, Chris took you around the room where there were a chorus of greetings from his friends who then quickly went back to their own conversations.

“She’s a little nervous” Chris pointed to you when he noticed you weren’t making conversation with the last of his friends he was introducing you to.

You tossed him a disapproving look, mortified because you weren’t a conversationalist like Chris and that always made you self conscious.

“I doubt it, it’s probably just because you talk so much and no one can get a word in edgewise” one of the women remarked making the others laughs and you joined in leaning into him teasing.

“Come sit with us” she patted the couch “before he chews your ear off about some sports stuff”

Chris scoffed, rolled his eyes and stormed off leaving you all laughing again and taking the seat that was offered to you.

His friends were nice and funny, they sensed your nerves and instead of asking you questions about your personal life you all talked about the one thing you had in common which was Chris. You occasionally glanced back at him where you saw him eyeing you carefully and giving him a small smile letting him know you were ok.

You sat back for the most part listening to all their childhood stories and you thought about what Chris must have been like when he was younger. They argued after having realised they had different version of the same events, you envied how close they all were and the amount of memories they shared. A few left the couch to get some drinks including the woman who offered you a drink and you were then left alone with his friend Mike.

Mike was hilarious, you got lost in conversation with him, he was so charming and flirtatious something you always liked in people. He had you cracking up most of the night telling you stories about times where Chris’ sister had convinced him to wear a dress and some makeup. You burst out laughing brushing you hand against his as your body shook with laughter.

“What are you guys talking about?” You jumped when you felt Chris sidle up next to you eager to know what you both were laughing at. He pulled you hand back from where it lay on Mike’s knee and held it in his hand firmly.

“You” you said in union, looking at each other and falling back in laughter

“We should probably get going, it’s late” he whispered in your ear squeezing your hand

“No, no we’re having so much fun” you gave him pleading eyes

“Yeah come on Chris, let your girlfriend hang out with me” he flashed his brows at him, smirking.

“We’re going” Chris stated tugging at your hand and pulling you up from the couch.

If you had any amount of strength you would have resisted him but Chris was way stronger than you, he might as well have picked you up. You waved your good-byes to his friends that were scattered all around the house and when you turned to wave good-bye to Mike he had pulled you away so fast you thought you were going to get whiplash.

“Jesus Chris, slow down” you breathed

“What so you can flirt with Mike more”

You almost didn’t hear it but when you did you stood still a few metres away from the car and when he noticed you weren’t moving he turned to you throwing his hands up in the air and furrowing his brows at you.

“Flirting with him?”

“Yeah, I saw the way you were laughing with him!” he spat bitterly, his voice echoing into the night air

You slapped you hand to your mouth but not before a small chuckle escaped

“You think this is funny” he moved to you

“No?” You snorted, a small grin flashing across your face.

He scoffed heading back to the car and you quickly followed him climbing into the passenger seat.

“Chris… honey I’m sorry” you put your hand over his “I’m not laughing I swear”

He started the car, keeping his eyes glued to the road and giving you the cold shoulder. The entire car ride Chris never said a word to you, never glanced at you and really committed to this silent treatment. You just couldn’t believe how jealous and it was a side of him you’d never seen yet and it kind of turned you on. He got possessive and annoyed just at the sight of seeing you getting along with his friend, something he wanted you to do you thought.

As soon as he turned the car into the drive, he still made no attempts to talk to you, just parking the car and getting out of the car.

“Seriously Chris” you narrowed your eyes following him into the house

He headed for the living room throwing himself on the couch and staring up at the couch, he sat up rubbing his head with his hands. You leaned against the door frame watching his movements for a few minutes before moving to pour yourself a glass of scotch and doing the same for him. You set it down on the coffee table in front of him and took a seat beside him, you planted a kiss quickly on his cheek before he could pull his head back.

“You’re really not talking to me” you spoke softly

When he didn’t respond or even look at you, you took that as your clue to leave, finding his behaviour really annoying and slamming your glass to the table you stormed out of the room. Usually you would stay up and wait for him to come to bed before you drifted off to sleep but you were so filled with anger the idea of sleeping next to him almost made you blood boil.

How dare you think you’d flirt with someone else, it’s not like he wasn’t a flirt and hated the attention he got from women. But you never brought it up and felt some type of way about it, you were pacing the bedroom stripping off your clothes and letting them drop to the ground before you crawled into bed. You soon drifted off to sleep despite all the anger and even when you felt the weight shift on his side of the bed.

You woke first groggy then letting your senses come back to you, you sigh a deep breath stretching out any tension as the memory of last night flooded you. You turn to your right remembering how he had the nerve to even sleep in bed with you last night and you yank the covers to your side deliberately depriving him of any warmth before getting out of bed in a fit.

You made as much sound as you possibly could, slamming the bathroom door, opening up the drawers loudly and shutting them again, stomping throughout the bedroom hoping all the noise would annoy him and disrupt his sleep. You watch him stir in his sleep slowly waking up and you left the room but not before slamming the bedroom door.

You roamed around the kitchen, pacing lightly, you tried not to be bothered by his behaviour but it was hard. You never thought of Chris as a jealous man and he never showed any jealousy like that before. You wondered if it was some red flag that you missed over the years you’d been dating, maybe the signs were always there and you never paid any attention to it. Something about it didn’t sit well with you and you leaned on the counter mulling it over, he ignored you from the moment you were in the car till you went to bed. That was so unusual, Chris hated going to bed angry so you knew that this must have really gotten to him.

You felt yourself getting annoyed again, did he really think you were flirty or would even think about cheating on him. What did that say about how he felt about you and how he saw you.

“You should learn to be more quiet” he grumbled brushing past you

You didn’t notice that he was even in the kitchen till his voice pulled you out of your thoughts

“Huh” you turned to him

“It was rude, I was sleeping”

“Oh I’m sorry, am I supposed to care” you were being petty for sure and didn’t care about it, he deserved it.

He glared at you flaring his nostrils “don’t piss me off”

“Or what, you’re gonna stop talking to me again. Oh I’m so scared” you mocked

He set down his cup of coffee and slowly approached you “you don’t wanna see what I’ll do”

The little flash of anger in his eyes let you know he was serious, you had gotten under his skin.

“What if I do?” you glared at him playfully

He took a few more steps to you until he had backed you to the counter and pressed himself against you. He gave you a smirk, bending down to kiss and lick your neck softly, he wrapped his arms around your middle pulling you to him sharply.

“Chris you can’t just-“

“What? Touch you” he dipped his head to you neck again sucking gently “I’ll do what I want” His hands slid to your thigh slowly reaching under your robe. “And what I want…” he trailed kisses along you jawline before capturing your lips “is you”.

He was gentle with you at first which had you thinking he wasn’t angry at you anymore before his hand snaked up to cup your skull, pulling your head back so you locked eyes with him. You gasped at the pressure and watched as that anger flooded his eyes again only for it to be replaced with arousal quickly. His loosened his grip and his hand slid down to your throat, your eyes widened as you waited for him to apply pressure but he never did. Instead he watched and felt you whimper against him nervous but you were also getting restless wanting more from him.

“I don’t like seeing you with other men” he gripped your hips harshly “You’re mine and only mine. Do you understand?”

You moaned your response but it didn’t satisfy him, his grip around your throat tightened

“Do you understand?” He asked again

“Yes…yes” you chocked out

He narrowed his eyes “I don’t believe you” He grabbed your waist quickly bending you over the counter. He pushed his pelvis into you and you let out a soft moan feeling his hard cock against you. He leaned into you , whispering in your ear “I think I need to show you”. You couldn’t see his face, only feel him touch all over you body, his warm breath against your ear and him getting harder the more you twisted your hips against him.

“I need to show you who you belong to” his voice rasped as you heard him unbuckling his belt, your breath hitched when the belt hit the floor and the clang rang through silent kitchen. He hiked up your robe so it fell bundled just above your ass, he ran his hand up from your thigh and soft moan escaped your lips.

“You see how wet you are” he slipped his finger inside you, you jerked arching your back as he crooked his finger hitting that spot you loved so much. You bucked your hips slowly with his pace reaching forward to grasp whatever you could to steady yourself. You were getting restless, desperate but he was having fun teasing you.

You groaned feeling his shaft slide up and down your slit. When he moved away you whimpered and whined at the loss aching for him. He teased your hole making sure to line his cock up nicely with you pussy, he waited moments before slamming into you without warning.

“Oh fuck” you cried out as he pounded into you more and more. His thrusts were rough, violent like he was trying to ravage you right there in the kitchen. While you tried your best to keep up with him, every time the tip of his cock hit your cervix you gasped and winced with both pleasure and pain.

The way he thrust into you told you he wanted you to scream him name loudly, it made it difficult for you to stay upright. He bent over you interlocking his fingers with you keeping you in place as he pushed in and out of you picking up the pace again. You felt his breath near your ear again and it drove you insane hearing him breathing heavily. You squeezed your pussy around his cock making his lightly gasp and then thrust into you harshly as punishment.

“Are you misbehaving again” he rasped against your ear, plunging into you harder. “God, you’re so fucking tight”, his lips latched on to your neck as his hands roamed your body.

Soon his hand went to your throat squeezing harshly, you knees started to buckle and all you fell from your lips were moans.

“I wanna hear you, tell me who you belong to” he panted heavily

“It-it’s you, I-i belong to you” you stuttered

“That’s right” he thrust into you burying himself deep inside you “you” he pulled back out teasing your hole “belong” he slowly pushed into you making you exhale deeply “to me” you let out a quiet low moan nearing your release at his words.

You knew he was close too as he movements became staggered, he was trying his best to hold on but it was growing to be difficult for him. You bucked madly crying out loudly, you wanted your release, you needed it.

“Yes, yes god yes” you chanted as you grew close

He pounded into you violently now grunting heavily with every thrust, he gripped you hips then moved his feet to spread your legs as best as far as you’d let him. You tightened around him, you cries bouncing off the walls. You screwed your eyes shut, reaching you hands back to feel for him, worried he’d move and leave you like this.

“Fuck” he grunted loudly still thrusting into you as you body trembled and shook from your orgasm. You yelled slamming you hands to the counter holding on for dear life as you hit your climax. You legs shook and bent inwards as you tried to close them but he didn’t let you. He held them apart still working towards his orgasm.

“Chris-“ you begged

“I’m not done with you yet” he pounded into you a few more times, giving you long strokes before he bent over you his orgasm building quickly. He was buried deep inside you and he was overcome quickly with pleasure. He let go of your legs letting you close them but still staying inside you. He reached up his head resting in the crook of your neck trialing kisses along your shoulder.

You both panted heavily and you struggled to form a deep breath as his body weighed heavy above you. He reached around giving you clit a flick making gasp beneath him, you were so sensitive to his touch. He slowly moved of you and you dared not move yourself letting him admire the view before you felt him pull you to him.

“I hope you’ve learnt your lesson” he smirked giving you a gentle smack as you walked past him “now get upstairs, I’ll be up soon”

~~~

Hope you enjoyed it, feedback is encouraged and appreciated.

#chris evans #chris evans x black reader #chrisevans #chris evans fanfiction #chris x reader #chris evans smut #chris evans imagine #cevans

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astaroth1357 · 3 years

Text

Demigod MC Series: Athena

So. I have to deal with the virgin goddesses… By mythos, there really shouldn't ever be children of Artemis, Hestia, or Athena (yes, Athena was a virgin goddess). PJ got past that by making it canon that Annabeth and her siblings were born from cracking open Athena's skull (yes, that's also more or less the canon explanation). They gloss over it real quick but I remember, Rick. I've always remembered and that mental image has haunted me for years...

I can't, in good conscience, ignore the history around Athena's worship (call it an academic restraint) but I REFUSE to do the skull thing. So, since I make the rules here, I'm going with magic adoption. They still get magic powers, they're just more human than demigod. Cool? Cool.

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter, Athena

Lucifer

The human that popped out of the portal seemed to have enough sense not to attack everyone in the room for a change, but even Lucifer could tell that was more of a strategic choice than for lack of ability...

Their very existence was highly unusual… and quite worrisome. He wasn't even aware Athena could have "children" of her own, but apparently she had been taking in some particularly bright humans to raise and train like her own...

Unbeknownst to him, a surprising amount of human scholars, diplomats, and generals have her to thank for their trade… and that alone should speak to the level of intrigue at play here.

Was this an accident or Athena's attempt to plant an Olympian spy in the Devildom too…? Either way, he didn't trust them from the get go…

Look, Lucifer isn’t stupid. Athena is a goddess of Wisdom and War and war happens on more than just the battlefield…

Since they've shown up records have been going missing, official documents keep getting misplaced, and he swears that there's some kind of bug in the student council room...!

It's infuriating watching the MC suck up to Diavolo when he's almost certain that they're running their own agenda behind the scenes! And he can't prove any of it!! They cover their tracks too well!

Lucifer has one of those corkboards covered in newspapers and string in a secret wing of the Castle - 100% dedicated to just tracking the MC's activities…. The longer they're there, the more obsessed he becomes...

He swears between Simeon, Solomon, and MC he feels like a shepherd wondering why the sheep are growling… The Devildom has never been in more danger than it is right now... Send help.

Mammon

To be honest, he kind of thought that they were just going to be Satan 2.0 but that's not really true.

They're more than just a book sponge! Though they do read, like a lot. Let’s just say from one schemer to another… Game recognizes Game.

They come up with plans and ideas soooo fast, it’s insane! Honestly, there are times where he has a new money-making plot and he just brings it to the MC first to run it over.

Nine times out of ten, not only do they sniff out any problems but they have a solution for him in a matter of minutes! His scheme game has been on point since they’ve shown up!!

They’re also even better tutoring than Satan is, so he’s even managed to get a couple A’s for the first time in his life! Lucifer actually told him he was proud (which he secretly recorded and now uses as a ringtone much to his brother’s regret...)

So yeah, he likes them... buuut that doesn’t keep him from thinking they act a little weird sometimes...

Mammon: *points to a unused tower close to the RAD building* Over there is the Tower of Sorrow. We use it for storage.

MC: Ah. Interesting… *starts writing in a notebook, muttering* It may need a few minor tweaks but the location is defensible...

Mammon: *stops* Ya say somethin’?

MC: *looks back up* Nope! Say, you’ve been to the Castle a lot haven’t you? Do you know any good ways in?

Mammon: Uhm… Why do ya want to know that…? *starts looking around for Lucifer*

MC: In case of emergencies. I like being prepared. 🙂

Mammon: Look, I don’t know what Lucifer might’a told ya…

MC: I’ll pay you a thousand Grimm for it.

Mammon: Well shit, ya want those maps with or without color?

... Yeeeah, that’s pretty weird… But it’s probably fine. I mean, as long as they keep giving him money, who’s he to complain? 🤷‍♀️

Leviathan

Also thought that they’d be a lot more like Satan but was pleasantly surprised that they were into more than books.

What else did they like exactly? Military strategy!!

It’s been a looong time since he’s been able to talk to someone who’s actually interested in all the battles he’s fought, both in the Celestial Realm and the Devildom, and their curiosity is kind of flattering...! Not a lot of people take his strategic prowess all that seriously anymore...

Plus, they are the BEST partner to have any turn-based strategy game. Hands down. He once got stuck on a level of D-COM for weeks until the MC walked in and mopped the floor with the AI!! They have a serious head for probability and tactics.

The House once made the mistake of letting these two be on the same team during a Hell Game and they absolutely demolished the competition. Mammon didn’t even get a single shot off before half his team was lost to a rigged paint grenade… It took a whole day to clean up…

However, Levi’s also noticed some odd things about the human… He likes that they’re interested in his past but maybe they’re a little… too interested?

Levi: -and that’s how we defeated the Four Horsemen before they escaped from Purgatory.

MC: Wow, Levi that’s seriously impressive!! *furiously scribbling on a notebook*

Levi: Well t-thanks… 😅 But, uhm... are you writing that down…?

MC: Hm? Oh no, just doodling. *they lift up the notebook to show a bunch of cute little sketches on the page… and not the magic-based invisible ink all over them…*

Levi: Oh you draw too? Can you do fanart???

MC: Eh, sometimes. But say Levi, can you tell me about your naval ranks again? I’m still really curious… *gets the pen ready again with a smile*

Satan

Oh, it's been a long game of cat-and-mouse between these two… and unfortunately, it’s been pretty addicting too.

He honestly had every intention of tricking the human into making a huge mess do he could bother Lucifer, but at every turn they proved just a hair too clever for him...

He once gave them a cursed book to “lend” to Lucifer, but they saw through it the moment they touched it and lifted the spell before handing it over.

He rigged a podium to spray glitter during one of Lucifer's speeches but the MC disconnected the trigger mic before he even got on stage. It was pretty dang frustrating...

At one point he got so desperate that, just as a test, he tried to trap them in the House's Music Room. Fortunately for them, it only took a few minutes to work out an escape. They even passed by him in the hallway with a wink!

It's confounding! It's infuriating!!

...and it's so damn sexy... He should be furious but he’s just in awe!!

Add on that they know their art, literature, and multiple different crafts thanks to the tutelage of their adopted mother and that’s it. He’s finished. This boy is in love.

Truthfully though, a part of him is 90% sure that they’re also gathering state secrets… Like, they’re watching Barbs and Diavolo far too close for comfort - but he just can't bring himself to care. 🤷‍♀️

The MC could walk into his room one day and say, "Hey, do you want to help overthrow the monarchy with me?" and he dreads it because deep down he knows that he wouldn’t say no…

Take some notes, kids. Some bad influences get you to drink or do drugs. Others pull you into a centuries long conspiracy to destabilize and topple rival realms from within… But he has fallen for their brain hard. Devil help them all…

Asmodeus

They’re pretty clever, he’ll give them that, but uh… Are they a little off to anybody else?

Asmo is a charmer by birthright so he has a bit of nose for when someone’s just a liiittttle too nice… Not much of a nose mind you, because he can be thrown off by compliments himself, but enough to think that the MC might be a little too… “kind” for their own good...

First off, who wants to spend that much time with Levi?? They don’t even seem that interested in anime! They just keeping asking him for old war stories…

Then all the sucking up they do to Diavolo and Barbatos? Look, he gets it. Diavolo is a delicious piece of man-hunk and his butler could give him a lesson or two in sweet-talk (and he has), but they seem to be just a little too… nosy.

Of course, Asmo’s suspicions disappear pretty quickly after they start to spoil him with spa nights and beauty secrets they picked up from “casual research” into the subject.

And you know, get a little Demonus in Asmo and start massaging his back? Oh, sweetie he’ll sing like a bird!! … with gossip. Singing with gossip.

Asmo: So I’ve heard that Lucifer has been spending more time at RAD than usual… His whole club is talking about it, they think he’s meeting with some witch!

MC: Hm, is that so? *works on a knot near his shoulder blades* What do you think?

Asmo: Ooh~! Right there, MC! *purrs and lays his head on his arms* Well come on, this is Lucifer we’re talking about! I’m sure he’s just working.

Asmo: Hmm... though come to think of it, I think I heard him asking Barbatos for the spare keys to the Tower of Sorrow…

MC: Oh really? Huh. *works out the knot and gets up* I just remembered that I left some papers with Satan... I’ll be right back.

Asmo: You’re going already??

MC: *waves him off quickly* I’ll be right back, Asmo. *hurries out the door to do totally on-the-up-and-up things… surely*

Beelzebub

Honestly he doesn't like this one… But not for the reasons you'd expect.

He agrees with everyone else that they seem a little shady, but Solomon and Simeon are too so it's not like that's anything new... 🤷‍♀️

No, no. He dislikes them because they're the person who FINALLY figured out how to keep him from eating all the food in the kitchen!!

Turns out that the trick was to put a teleportation charm on the fridge door that would send all the food away if it’s opened after a certain time of night…

And where does it go? The Purgatory Hall fridge. And where does the Purgatory Hall food go…? The HoL fridge…

It doesn’t sound so bad until you remember that it means half of their fridge is now Solomon’s leftovers…. 🤢

After they put the same kind of spell on the pantry, it was all over… He couldn't get midnight snacks from the House anymore… Everything was contaminated by Solomon…

The MC is a nice enough person, he doesn’t have a lot of complaints about them, but he wants them to leave. Now. This is inexcusable… He’s so hungry… and he doesn’t want to die by “goulash” or whatever Solomon calls his latest culinary catastrophe… He’s still too young for death… 😓

Belphegor

In a way, he absolutely could not have asked for a better person to help him get out of that attic.

… In another way, he got one of the worst possible people to try and kill... Like. They saw through his scheme sooo fast…

How was he supposed to know that the human had training in body language and sniffing out lies???

Getting the door open was a piece of cake for them. They knew enough magic to undo the seals and just rummaged around Lucifer's stuff long enough to find the key to the door. He could not have found a more competent individual for a break out, really.

It’s just… well he didn’t expect to go from locked in a room like a prisoner to tied up in enchanted rope, still like a prisoner but now mobile. 😑

They even used his own hug ruse against him! They caught his wrists when they got close and tied him up before he could shake them off...

Admittedly, it wasn't exactly the best look for them either - what with walking Belphegor downstairs to the others like a one-man-prison-caravan but they're as silver-tongued as they are sly so they talked their way out of it beautifully…

And like hell was he going to trust them after that!! And not even Beel liked them so something had to be up...

Well, you want a detective? Look no farther than Belphie (no seriously, it’s in the canon). He can put things together pretty fast when he puts his mind to it and watching the MC for a while gave him enough proof to work off of...

He always knew that, humans were bad news and the MC just proved it to him all over again. They are bad news, bad bad news and they’re going to-!

Overthrow… Diavolo…? Is that what he is getting from them…? Huh…

Wait a second, MC. You might just have him interested… 😏

#you say athena mc is smart #i say athena mc is spy #because where better to use your smarts #in war #obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me demigods

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buckmepapi · 2 years

Text

Just got spoken to like shit for being hard of hearing.

I forgot to wear my hearing aids when getting groceries and I asked my partner where the bacon medallions were and he muttered something (even with my hearing aids he’s hard to understand because he speaks lowly and mutters which I’ve explained lots of times to stop doing lmao) and I said “what?” and signed to my ear to signal that I can’t hear him, and he just turns away from me so now I can’t even see his lips or know if he’s speaking at all and I kept saying “what” like 3 more times and at this rate I don’t know if he’s ignoring me or actually replying because I can’t hear him at all, and I tell him can you turn around because I don’t know what you’re trying to say or do and then he muttered this time which I noticed and I said “what are you saying” and he very loudly declared “I said shut the fuck up” in such a venomous way I was like wtf ???

And then he started insulting me when we finished shopping saying im stupid and don’t know how to use my brain because he said I should have known that him turning around away from me was him showing me that the bacon is in front of him , like excuse me ???? You’re asking a sensory overloaded autistic person to pick up on a social queue that to my knowledge is not even a very good one by neurotypical standards and I’m also suppose to understand this whilst being deaf? You wasted minutes of our time when you could have turned back to face me and said “here” clearly or better yet fucking pointed with your finger in front of you if you really didn’t want to talk like ?????

Idk why but he always gets angry at my deafness too, I thought ever since I had it confirmed and had hearing aids fitted that he would take it seriously and understand that I’m genuinely am not hearing him but he can’t even be bothered to learn basic bsl which I use all the time when I talk to him and apparently my inability to hear is my fault because he simply can’t get it into his thick skull to face me when he talks or talk louder and enunciate better instead of talking like a fucking idiot but apparently I’m the issue and I’m stupid for being autistic

Then when I calmly discuss this I get gaslighted and insulted further ,,, I just gave up and said “this isn’t important. You’re tired and taking out your exhaustion on me. I’m not being a part of this and I don’t need to be insulted” and left it at that

This is the shit I’ve had to deal with for like 5 years now and it’s getting worse like wtf , I’m hoping that the more shit I post on here about it the more it’ll help me to leave him lol

#𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓪𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓻 ╰✧#buckmepapi #k;#personal #autism #deaf #deafness #hard of hearing #actually autistic #autistic #ableism #actually disabled #rant #vent #disabled rant #rantvent #rant vent #rant post #vent post

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luxwritesfanfic · 3 years

Text

Don’t Take The Money

Poor reader thought it would end up being a normal Sunday but that must’ve been the mix of bleach and Pinesol fumes getting to their head. Or, the one where reader finds out they have more in common with the other woman in Sherlock’s life than they thought and Sherlock has an aneurysm at the revelation. Thanks for reading!

Sherlock Holmes/Reader

You were just waking up when Sherlock was moving around the bedroom trying to pack his overnight bag. You groaned at the noise of drawers being opened and hangers jostled and rolled over onto your stomach, propping yourself up on your elbows. “Sherlock? You’re leaving?”

He stopped in his tracks back towards the closet and moved to sit on the edge of the bed next to you. He looked down at you with fondness that so many people thought he was incapable of feeling and as always, it made your heart swell. Brushing a lock of hair behind your ear, you relished in his undivided attention.

“A case was brought to my attention. I won’t be gone for long, it’s a few towns over.” He insists, trying to ease your worries before they arise.

Although you’d miss him, it never did anyone any good when Sherlock was bored. He needed something to keep him occupied and you needed time to clean up the drywall shrapnel that constantly covered the couch due to the boredness. It would give you the opportunity to deep clean the flat and the idea wasn’t so bad.

“Is John going too?” Sherlock nodded. You don’t know why you asked, they always worked together.

You turned your head to kiss his palm and sat up to get out of bed. “Okay. I’ll make you breakfast before you guys leave. Nobody likes train food anyway.”

Sherlock moved to help you stand, one of the smiles he reserved just for you gracing his lips. “You take excellent care of me. But you should know, you don’t have to be useful for this to mean something to me.”

He caught you off guard, but he usually did when he read you like a book. Your whole life you’d made yourself useful and you weren’t sure if people liked you for you or for the fact that there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for them. You would do anything and everything for Sherlock and it didn’t have anything to do with being useful, honestly. You loved him dearly and you couldn’t imagine treating him like you felt anything less than that. You couldn’t help but kiss him.

“Omelettes or pancakes?”

—

Your shirt was soaked from washing the dishes and you smelled like a mixture of bleach and formaldehyde from scrubbing the fridge clean and removing the severed head that took up the space where your coffee creamer should be. You had done more loads of laundry than you could count, bleached the bloodstained tub from Sherlock’s latest pig quest, the entire flat smelled like Bahama breeze and you couldn’t be more content. The boys weren’t due back for a day or two so you figured you’d spend some time with Mrs. Hudson when you were done and see if you could meet up with Bucky and Greg for lunch. When you passed the kitchen on your way to your bedroom to change, you decided that this may be the only chance you ever get to clear off the dining room table. Sherlock’s science equipment had overrun it and you figured it wouldn’t hurt if you straightened it up just a bit.

You were in the midst of cleaning out Sherlock’s beakers when you heard the knock on the door. Figuring that John would have posted on his blog that they weren’t currently taking clients because they were on a case, you expected to see Mrs. Hudson and the mop she was letting you borrow. You cracked the door just enough to see who was on the other side and was surprised to see an older woman holding a plate of baked goods who wasn’t Mrs. Hudson.

“Hi... how can I help you?”

The woman in question’s eyes lit up at the sight of you and you weren’t sure why. She smiled and gestured to the platter in her hands. “Is Sherlock Holmes here?”

She must be a client, you thought. Shaking your head, you responded, “No, sorry! The boys off on a case. I’m a friend of theirs. Is there something I can help you with?”

She was looking past you into the flat and you weren’t sure what she was looking for. “Do you mind if I come in? I could really use a cup of tea. And I wanted to drop these cookies I made for Sherlock off.”

You looked at what she was holding and decided it wouldn’t really hurt to let her in, and the cookies looked amazing. Sherlock must have helped her in some way.

“Sure, come on in. Sorry about my clothes... I’ve been doing some spring cleaning.” You stepped aside and let her in. “So, are you a client of his?”

She went to place the platter on the table and you were excited that it was already worth cleaning off the table. “Not quite. I’ve known him his whole life and have loved him even longer.” She turned and smiled at you, seeing through you in a way that seemed eerily close to Sherlock.

You hummed, taking in her answer. Sherlock didn’t talk much about his friends, so you weren’t surprised that you never heard of her.

“Just a minute, I’m gonna change.”

You excused yourself to the bedroom where your phone was charging on the bed. After sending Sherlock a quick text that someone who wasn’t a client was here for him, you dug around in the closet for something clean and more appropriate.

The lady didn’t really seem like a threat and you were sure if it came down to it, you’d be able to protect yourself. You could chuck the skull on the mantle if need be, it was a hard hitter.

When you returned, she was wandering around the flat and looking at all of the pictures of you, Sherlock, and John that you’d recently framed and put out.

“You and Sherlock, you’re close, yes? Tell me about him. It’s been so long.” She was holding a picture that you took of you two in the back of a taxi. Sherlock was on his phone but you thought his hair looked extra good and the golden hour light made him look like an angel so you had to take the picture.

“Yeah, I mean. He’s a seriously great person. A brilliant detective, he’s so smart. He helps all these people for free, and he never complains if they don’t offer him anything. He hates when I tell him he’s a godsend but who else would do that? Um... he’s really funny, probably one of the funniest people I know. You just have to keep up with his humor. It can be kind of dry, but it’s there. He’s one of the most loyal people there is and he’d do anything for the people he cares about.”

It was so easy for you to speak so highly of him. It was like second nature.

“He can be stubborn sometimes, and he can be a little more blunt than he needs to be but... he’s amazing. There’s no other way to explain him, really. He’s got a light that comes from him that rivals the sun and I don’t think it could ever be dimmed.”

She turned back to you and slowly broke out into one of the biggest grins you’d ever seen someone wear. “You really love my son.”

“Your son?” You blinked, unsure of what was going on. You really started to look at the woman in front of you and you realized Sherlock had her eyes. A complete copy and paste. “Oh my God, you’re Sherlock’s mom. I never even introduced myself. I’m Y/N, a friend of-”

“You’re not his friend, dear, and I’m not blind. Old age takes a lot from you, but I could never miss the way my son shines. And you... you see it too.” She walked up to you, still holding the picture frame in her hands. “You love my son in a way that no one else has. Let me tell you all about him.”

—

You couldn’t stop laughing.

Sherlock’s mom had brought over tons of scrapbooks and old pictures that she had acquired over the years, and you had a feeling she knew you were here alone before she even knocked on the door. Mycroft, probably. You spent the whole day getting to know each other and taking a stroll down memory lane with her telling you all about Sherlock as a kid and how it was growing up with two geniuses as sons. She even gave you a copy of one of Sherlock’s high school pictures that you were going to cherish forever. She seemed so happy to have someone to talk to and assured you that spending time with you was the closest she had felt to Sherlock in a long time.

You insisted that she stay and let you make dinner, but she was as equally stubborn as Sherlock and ordered you takeaway as her treat. You tried to argue but she was having none of it. “My God, you scrubbed this whole flat clean. I’m not going to let you dirty your dishes. How does Chinese sound?”

—

Sherlock barreled up the steps with all the force he could muster in his legs and rushed in to see you, perfectly fine and all in one piece, having dinner with his mother.

“Sherlock!” You both exclaimed, his mother full of excitement and you full of worry.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, standing up from your end of the couch. “I thought you were on a case? Is everything okay?”

“I’ve been texting and calling you all day! You’re that daft that you couldn’t text back once all this time?” He’s still out of breath and he can feel his heartbeat in his ears. His tone is exasperated and you could hear the mix of anxiety and relief in his voice as he’d yet to acknowledge his mother. She seemed perfectly content to sit back and watch the situation unfold, amusement at her son’s unusual outburst gracing her features.

“My phone was dead! And then I put it on the charger and I forgot about it once your mom came, by the way!” You went to the bedroom and retrieved your phone to find a dozen missed texts and calls.

Probably just a client. SH

11:07 AM

Are you sure it’s not a client? SH

11:43 AM

Are they still there? SH

1:00 PM

Missed Call

1:17 PM

Missed Call

2:03 PM

Call me back. SH

3:26 PM

Y/N, I’m on a case. Call me back. SH

3:44 PM

Missed Call

4:13 PM

Is everything alright? SH

4:52 PM

Missed Call

5:08 PM

Missed Call

5:10 PM

Missed Call

5:12 PM

I’m boarding the train now and I’ll be there soon. Don’t worry. SH

5:21 PM

Sherlock followed after you, still without ever acknowledging his mother, and shut the door after himself. With his palms braced against the wooden door, he tried to ease the tension out of his bones through a deep breath as he watched you check your phone. He wasn’t worried about the case at all. It was mostly solved and what little was left John could do with ease. He felt the weight of the missed calls in his stomach like lead and the three hour train ride that he couldn’t curse to defy time any quicker. He had plenty of enemies and you had virtually none, so there would be no reason to think you’d hesitate to assist anyone who came to his door, especially if it was in the name of helping him. He thought he’d walk into a crime scene and he couldn’t shake those images out of his head.

You got up from the bed and walked over to him, reaching to wrap one arm around his neck and to take his hand in yours in the other. You pressed a kiss to his jaw, and then to his chin, over his eyelids, his nose, and then lastly you met his lips, murmuring “I’m sorry” in between every kiss. He didn’t usually voice it, but you had known him long enough to know when he was upset. He relaxed into your touch as he always did and you pulled away from him long enough to pull on the ends of his scarf. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. Let me help. We got takeaway for your mom and I but we can share mine. I got what you like anyway.”

He let you pull his scarf and jacket off and you were delighted to see he wasn’t really mad with you. You hang his jacket on the closet door and by the time you turn back to face him, he’s already making his way back out to the living room. Following after him, you see his mother gesturing him to come over.

“What are you doing here? I thought I told Mycroft to tell you I was away on business.” He was messing with the cuffs on his sleeves but his question was directed at his mother with unmistakable intent. She tsked at him, and you began to see even more similarities in their mannerisms.

“That’s no way to talk to your mother, William. I was spending some time with your darling partner here and I don’t even get a kiss or a hug?” She began gathering her belongings and threw her purse over her shoulder. You weren’t happy to see her go.

You did peak up at the name. “William? Your name is William?”

Sherlock groaned, ignoring you completely. You swore you could see a blush dusting his cheeks. In no time he was at the door, holding it open for his mother. “It’s getting rather late, don’t you agree? Father must be wondering where you are. Be sure to pay Mycroft a visit the next time you’re in town. I assure you, he always has time for family.”

She turned to you and blew you a kiss. “I had a great time with you today, I hope you’ll manage to bring Sherlock home more.”

Walking over to Sherlock, she paused to kiss his cheek and whisper in his ear, “I know you know what you could lose here. So be sure you don’t, Sherlock.”

Before she totally stepped out of the flat, she turned around one last time. “Promise me you’ll come home soon. Your father and I miss you dearly.”

“I heard you the first ten times. Goodnight and safe travels, mother.” Sherlock shut the door before his mother could get another word and your shoulders slumped.

“Hey, that was your mom! She’s really nice. We had a good day.” You started to clean up the coffee table and take the dishes into the kitchen. You couldn’t understand Sherlock’s relationship with his family but you were sure there was a lot of things you didn’t know. Still, it was nice to have a chance to bond with your (maybe one day) future family. It was then that you realized that Sherlock never said anything when his mother mentioned you being his partner. You two never really officially defined what you were, so to see him not object to an actual title made you feel all warm inside.

“No, you had a good day. I was trying to work a case and clear a man’s name while trying to figure out if I’d come home to you kidnapped or dead.” Sherlock rolled his eyes, watching you from the doorway. You looked back at him as you dropped the dishes into the sink and let out a sigh. You hated the fact that you let him down.

“I have to go back tomorrow to tie some loose ends with John. If you come with me, I have a feeling I’ll get over it a lot quicker.” His voice was quiet but full of mirth. He won’t hold this over your head, and you both know this, but if it makes him feel better you’ll follow him. You’d follow him to the ends of the Earth and off the edge if he lead you.

Sherlock pushed himself off of the doorway and walked towards the bedroom, unbuttoning his shirt as he went.

“So, you’re staying home tonight?” You swung around the kitchen doorway and called out to the hall. You hadn’t even thought about Sherlock having to go back, and you couldn’t help but be excited that he would be there for you to fall asleep next to tonight.

“You didn’t expect me to make the trip back at this hour, did you? Besides, I sleep better with you and it’s obvious that I don’t focus well if you’re not around, Which is why I need you to come with me tomorrow. It seems you owe me, anyway.” Sherlock takes a step back so you can see him in the bedroom doorway, and you can feel your heart in your throat.

He’s so beautiful, you think, all alabaster skin and lean muscle. He’s pulling a t-shirt over his head and you wonder if you could manifest a photographic memory long enough to commit him to memory. Of course he notices you staring, and you almost want to mention all the times you catch him staring at you but he changes the subject and opens the blankets for you and you shut up and follow him. You follow him and you love him and you wake up in the morning at the crack of dawn to run downstairs and order coffee from the shop next door before your train leaves, being sure to get them to write “William” on the cup. Sherlock doesn’t find this funny at all, but he still lets you fall asleep on his arm on the train ride there and doesn’t complain when his arm falls asleep right along with you.

He thinks that if this is the life his mother wished for him as a child, that would be one thing he could take off of his list of things she eventually needs to answer for. Because mothers know best, and when it came to you, she could have never been more right.

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samstree · 3 years

Note

36 for kiss prompts and/or 23 from touch prompts?? i'm so happy for your dynamic return!! 😌

Lean on Me

36. “kissing away tears” + 23. “carrying the other one in their arms” from the touch asks. Thanks for the prompt, my dear! <3

In which Jaskier is a stubborn idiot. Geralt is there for him.

(1.4k, aftermath of torture, mentions of blood and injury, panic attacks, vomiting, read on AO3)

---

“Oh, finally!” Jaskier lets out a sigh, his ribs aching at the exhale. “My dear, you don’t know how I’ve longed to see your beautiful face! These two gentlemen—on top of being the rudest persons in the entirety of the Nilfgaardian empire—have the most hideous complexions I’ve seen! Seriously, does being a royal torturer suck away your soul along with your good looks?”

“Shut up, Jaskier.”

Geralt fumbles with the shackles around Jaskier’s wrists, refusing to look up. The motion pulls at the flayed skin a little. Jaskier gasps when one of the restraints falls to the floor. He uses the air to resume his rambling.

“Dull as fuck, they are. It’s always ‘tell me where they are, or we’ll beat you to death’ as if I didn’t infer from their mean faces on the first day. Urgh! So unimaginative! You’d think an army that swept through the continent could hire someone more competent. Professionals, maybe—”

The other wrist comes out and Jaskier abruptly tips forward, his knees giving way. Luckily, strong arms catch him around the waist without a moment of doubt, and Jaskier finds himself face to face with the prettiest amber eyes in the world.

“Hey,” Jaskier says, realizing that he’s bitten his lower lip in a panic. The old wound reopens and he tastes blood. “Did I ever tell you how beautiful your eyes are?”

A gentle hand comes up to push back the hair in Jaskier’s eyes, revealing his forehead and, undoubtfully, the gash there and all the dried blood. He feels exposed like this.

“Jaskier,” Geralt breathes, the whisper too careful for Jaskier to handle after all these days. “You are in shock.”

“What? No, I’m not!”

Jaskier frowns, and struggles on his feet to prove the point. If only his legs would cooperate and stop feeling like jelly. Geralt trails his fingers down to cup Jaskier’s jaw, a thumb hovering over what must be a patch of bruises by his lips. He presses down with the barest touch and Jaskier hisses, which tugs at his ribs again.

Geralt’s brows are knitted together with worry. “I need to get you out of here fast.”

“There’s no need to look so constipated, Geralt dear. I told you I’m fine. This—” he gestures to the tiny torture chamber. “—is nothing!”

With that, Jaskier takes a step towards the door—well, what’s left of it after Geralt smashed through the poor thing. Each step feels like he’s walking on a cloud. His arm rests on Geralt’s shoulder but refuses to lean into his witcher’s solid strength. Geralt doesn’t seem convinced, with a hand still at Jaskier’s waist, just shy of touching his throbbing side.

“Let me tell you, they couldn’t even follow through on most promises. Apparently, the emperor himself gave orders to keep me alive. I’m a valuable asset! So, you see, all the talks of opening me up with those colorful gadgets were nothing but empty threats. I could laugh at those idiots!”

As they stumble out of the room, Jaskier can’t help but get another glimpse of the table full of devices—pliers, knives, a chainsaw, and something that looks like a stack of thick needles, except every five of them are attached to make the perfect shape to go into someone’s fingers.

A shudder runs down his back—not from fear, of course. It’s a draft in the hallway.

“Hmm. And they are the idiots.”

“For messing with me and not finishing the job—Oh, there they are.” Two mangled bodies are barely visible in the dark corner, with blood seeping into the floor. “Did you give them hell? I bet you did. The White Wolf’s wrath is no joke, not when his bard is taken. Not that it was too much of a bother for me, mind you. I’m fine.”

The urge to repeat the word is overwhelming despite the crack in his voice. Jaskier licks at the cut on his lip just like he’s done in the past few days. It was the only soothing motion he could manage while being bound in metal. The warmth of Geralt’s body is miles better, so much so that a disorienting fog is forming before Jaskier’s eyes, darkening the edges of his vision.

“Sure you are. Just…hang on, just a little longer,” Geralt pleads, a bit desperately. For what, Jaskier isn’t sure.

Geralt takes Jaskier’s elbow with his other hand, guiding him forward toward the exit. He’s acting like that again, like he’s around a spooked horse or scared children. Jaskier turns in confusion and rests his temple against Geralt’s cheek, but he’s rudely dislodged quickly.

“Portal,” Geralt warns.

Before Jaskier has time to react, cold wind is cutting into his cheeks and his bare feet sink into thick snow. Kaer Morhen stands tall as always, and Jaskier wants to sag with relief—

Before a spell of nausea hits him in full force, turning his insides into a swirling mess. Jaskier can barely push Geralt away before crumbling onto the icy ground and heaves out whatever little content in his stomach. There’s not much. It’s not like a prisoner’s diet is on top of Nilfgaard’s priorities.

“Portals… Can’t complain when we are in a hurry, right?”

Jaskier chokes out a laugh while trying to wipe away the bile at his lips. The coldness is creeping up on him, making him tremble like a leaf. He hugs the hollow of his stomach, but the involuntary spasms jostle his sensitive ribs again, drawing out a whimper. Everything hurts. His mouth is filled with cotton, his head pounding like fireworks exploding inside his skull.

The next attempt to stand fails, and he ends up in a heap of misery with nothing but the raggedy shirt on his back. Jaskier takes in gulps of air but can’t find any release. His lungs are burning with the aftershock of panic.

It’s like a dam breaking. The reality sinks in, of what could have happened. Of what did happen.

Jaskier knows he’s crying. Tears are rolling down his cheeks with abandon and freezing in the cold air. He can’t hide them, not when he doesn’t even have the strength to lift a hand.

A coat wraps around his shoulders, and Jaskier shudders into the contact. Geralt lowers into his vision, his head tilted so their gazes can meet. Amber eyes are flowing with patience, so much patience.

“All right,” Jaskier finally croaks, “perhaps…there’s a chance that I’m, um, I’m not quite fine.”

Geralt’s palm finds Jaskier’s cheek again, careful not to aggravate the bruises and the broken skin. Their foreheads rest together, and the only thing left in the snowy world is the sound of Geralt’s breathing. The grip on Jaskier’s airway loosens, allowing him to match the achingly unhurried rise and fall of Geralt’s chest. The familiar scent of leather and sweat is in the background, the best soothing balm for his frayed nerves, always.

Slowly, the storm calms.

“That’s it. Breathe with me, just like this. You are safe. I have you now. I have you.” Geralt murmurs into his ear, repeating the last sentence like a mantra. “I have you, Jask…”

There are more tears, but soft lips catch them in a lover’s caress. Jaskier lets himself melt into his witcher’s presence, lets his tears be kissed away.

“What should—” His teeth chatters. The snow is numbing his toes, the tingling bordering on pain. “What should I do?”

The world spins again, but this time upward. Geralt’s arms are so steady as he lifts Jaskier in one swift motion and carries him toward the keep.

“Lean on me. For now.” The corners of Geralt’s lips quirk up into something akin to a smile, but not yet. It looks physically impossible for Geralt to smile right now. “Lean on me, and don’t worry a thing.”

And Jaskier does. He leans into Geralt’s neck and rubs his damp cheek into the scent there. The sniffles don’t go away for a long time. His breaths are still shuddering, but for the first time, there’s nothing Jaskier wants to say.

For the first time, Jaskier only wants to bury himself into Geralt’s coat, into the quiet safety of his favorite witcher, and ease his mind into oblivion.

---

Tagging: @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @kitcatkim3 @endless-whump @rey-a-nonbinary-bisexual @llamasdumpsterfire

Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

#geraskier #geraskier fic #hurt jaskier #jaskier whump #cw: blood #cw: panic attack #cw: vomiting #cw: torture #geralt x jaskier #soft geralt #protective geralt #jaskier being a brat #kissing away tears #hurt/comfort #chrysa your prompt was so soft #but i was in a hurt the bard mood again #oh well #there's nothing i can do #might as well lean into it

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darkorderaf · 3 years

Note

Can I request kiss prompt 16 with mjf set when the inner circle was in Vegas?

Oh, this is a very fun idea. This is a nice little cocktail of shitlord!Max and soft!Max. I took some creative liberties with their time in Vegas. Thank you so much for sending, I hope you like it!! <3

Pairing: MJF x OFC. Prompts: A kiss that isn’t meant to happen but it does anyway. Rating: T. Warnings/Content: Angst and fluff! Some drinking. Word Count: 2,633.

(I don’t own gif; credit to cowboyshit!)

“Un-fucking-believable.”

“Believe it.”

“I hate him.”

“I know.”

“Like, a lot. I deadass hate the dude.”

“I know, Sammy.”

She let out a long-suffering sigh and set her hands against the bartop. From the first proposal of the Inner Circle going to Vegas, Sammy complained. It hadn’t gotten any better now that they were actually in the city. The situation wasn’t great but it was what Jericho wanted and which of them was going to tell them no? At least Wardlow seemed decent enough. He didn’t talk much and hell, that was all she could ask for. She could use less talking lately.

“Sammy, he’s not going anywhere,” she said. Her hand curled tight around her glass. “We might as well just enjoy what we can, alright?”

Sammy frowned and folded his arms as he leaned against the table. Her words seemed to help for the time being. Satisfied that they had, she threw her drink back and rubbed at her temples. They had been away from the table too long and she could already feel her phone vibrating. She clapped Sammy reassuringly on the back and the two made their way back to the blackjack table.

“C’mon, Spanish God. It’s just one night. We’ll be fine.”

---

When the boys drank, they drank. Shot after shot after shot. She had to admit that she was impressed. MJF held his own with Jericho but he was feeling it and she could tell. They stayed longer at the place with the dancing girls that she forgot the name of but she didn’t mind that. It gave her some time to think to herself, appreciate the show from afar unbothered.

“You don’t belong here.”

Or not. She mentally prepared herself with a few deep breaths before she turned around. There he was, in his purple pastel suit glory. In MJF’s endeavor to earn the trust of the Inner Circle, he had been persistent with all of them. She tried not to notice that closely behind Jericho, she was the one he seemed to flock to most. The corner of the club she sat in was away from the red light that covered the rest. The fluorescents overhead made it easier to see the warm flush to his face that the booze brough on, the slight shadows under his eyes. She didn’t know where those came from. He leaned against the bar and took a long drink. She eyed him.

Was he getting enough sleep?

Better question, why was she worried about MJF?

Wait, what did he just say?

“Hi,” she said as she idly swirled the straw in her drink. She jutted her chin at the girls. “Care to explain what you mean by that? I think the club’s fine and the girls are putting on a hell of a show. I like it here.”

He shook his head, clearly frustrated.

“That’s,” he paused and sighed. “That’s not what I meant. You don’t belong here. With the Inner Circle. With them. With Jericho.”

Her eyes flashed and she sat up straight. Narrowed eyes met his and the muscle in his jaw worked. If he was frustrated, she felt it tenfold.

“Oh? And you do?”

“Please, just give me a second and listen to me.”

MJF wasn’t someone that struggled to communicate how he felt or what was on his mind. As far as she knew. Then again, how much did she really know him? She gestured for him to sit in the stool beside her and he took it. He undid the top button of his suit and ran a hand through his hair. He looked borderline unkempt. Vulnerable, even. Her spine softened and she slowly sipped at her drink.

“You’re--” He held onto his drink, sucked in his bottom lip, then ran his tongue along it. “You’re too good for them. I’m up here--obviously--you’re here, and then they’re down there. Do you see what I mean?”

He explained with one hand low and the other above his head. He placed himself higher than her by a slim margin. She didn’t know what to make of the fact that he leaned down to really exaggerate it. The backhanded compliment made heat creep up her neck, her face. She didn’t see herself better than the others of the Inner Circle but there were times where she wondered about going on her own. Even just for a little while. She kept to herself more lately, telling the guys it was fine if they didn’t accompany her to her matches. It would make it easier when she did decide to leave.

If she did.

“Wow,” she said, her brows lifted and her tongue pressed up against the sharp edges of her teeth. “You really know how to compliment a girl, Friedman. If you want a show, it’s over there. I’m not doing this with you.”

She turned away, effectively shutting off the conversation. Her spine straightened again and she caged her drink in with her forearms. MJF didn’t move from his spot beside her. Clearly, he had something on his mind. Max dropped his forehead into his hand then straightened himself back up.

“Max.”

“What?”

“Can you call me Max?”

That made her pause, her brows slightly furrowed. His voice was so soft she barely heard it. Jesus, she didn’t know what to make of this man. This infuriating man that insulted every person she knew and yet, could always be found in the audience during her matches. Who always checked on her in his own weird, emotionally bizarre way.

‘At least you didn’t embarrass yourself.’

‘Well, she looks worse but yeesh, that’s not saying much.’

And then the odd, ‘How are you?’ But that one seemed to make him more uncomfortable than any other compliment veiled with an insult. That one seemed genuine, a removal of some mask, and he never stayed long after she fumbled an answer.

She eyed him carefully on the stool beside her.

“Alright, Max,” she said and the sound of his name brought this strange, hopeful look to his face that caught her off guard. She was so used to it in a sneer, a Cheshire grin. “Come on, let’s get some air.”

She jerked her thumb towards the exit and threw back the rest of her strong drink. Although she hadn’t had as much as the boys, she felt warm and bubbly. Even with MJF, Max, at her side as they walked out into the night air, his hand a vague sensation at the small of her back as he let her go first. Her phone vibrated and she checked it.

Sammy G. - lmk if you need help hiding body xoxo

She rolled her eyes and slid her phone back into the pocket of her dress. Max kept a small distance from her as they walked and he did the same when she found somewhere to sit. She hadn’t banked on it being cold. Goosebumps slid up the exposed skin of her arms. Wordlessly, Max offered her his scarf.

“...Thanks,” she said. “What’s all this about, Ma--”

“You don’t like me.”

His statement cut her off and she cocked her head. She played with the ends of his scarf where it draped over her shoulders. It smelled like him and something sweet.

“It’s more complicated than that,” she offered. The conversation hadn’t initially been about them but with the way her brain lingered on it and how his statement didn’t sit well with her, she shifted it further that way. “You’re not the easiest person to be around. At all. Half the time I don’t know if you’re trying to be nice or if you’re just waiting for me to fall.”

“I’ve seen you fall. More than they have, in fact.”

She shot him a look. He wasn’t wrong. Jericho made a big show of how strong the bonds in the Inner Circle were and yet... Guilt knocked at her skull and she ignored it.

“Max,” she got his attention, his warm eyes on her and his knees angled towards her. Part of the reason she wanted to get away from the others was to get some air, that was true. The other part? To see who she was talking to. Max or MJF. “For once, can you just say what you mean and not be a complete dick about it?”

His jaw worked at that and his hands switched which one was on top quite a few times. Worry overtook her when he looked like he might be sick. Or like he was in pain.

“I like you. Alright? Even though I don’t want to and God knows I’ve tried not to, I do. I think about you literally all the time and it’s awful.”

Her shoulders dropped with disappointment and she shook her head with disbelief. He couldn’t just stop while he was ahead.

“Jesus,” she said, her voice a low and bitter sound. She slipped his scarf off and handed it back to him. “That must be so fucking terrible for you. My condolences, MJF.”

He was strangely silent as they walked back but that changed as soon as they were back in the company of the boys. Loudmouth, smug MJF was back and she receded back to the edges. Sammy approached her and demanded to know what happened, Ortiz as well. She kept it simple. They talked, that was all. The two men seemed to accept that that was all she would give them for the time being.

She had too much to think about and not enough drink in her glass.

---

The next pub they went to felt more up her alley and she sat at the end of the bar, away from the pissing contest between the others. Her sour mood had lifted some, thanks to Jameson and the friendly bartender. She could feel Max’s eyes on her but she paid no attention. She wanted to drink, she wanted to take a long bath, and then she wanted to go to bed. Something simple and not at all complicated like what her heart was feeling.

“Seriously, what did he say to you?”

“That’s between us, Ortiz,” she said for the third time to the man beside her. “It’s really not something I want to talk about.”

“Man, you’re holding out on us,” Sammy cut in from her other side. “Did he say something embarrassing? Please tell me it was embarrassing. It was totally embarrassing, right? Give us the dirt, sister.”

In some ways, she supposed it was embarrassing. Her jaw clenched.

“Is the hotel far from here?”

Ortiz blinked at her.

“No, not really, why?”

“I think I’m done for the night,” she said as she slapped a twenty on the bar and pushed back from it. “I’m getting tired.”

The two men seemed shocked and appalled by such a statement.

“Woah, you serious?”

“Mhm,” she vocalized. “You boys have fun, okay?”

“One of us will go with y--”

“I’ll go with her,” Max suddenly said, his hands in his pockets as he sauntered up to the trio. “You two stay here, huh? Keep an eye on the old man over there.”

Ortiz looked at Sammy, who looked at her, who looked at Max. He was too busy staring the other two down to notice how hard she looked at him.

“Fine,” she said carefully. “It won’t take long.”

She rushed out the door and Max was quick to follow her. That hardened expression of his faded and there was Max again, soft and vulnerable and infuriating. Frustrated tears pricked her eyes and she hated it.

“Slow down,” he called to her. “I didn’t say any of that right, alright? That was a shitshow in word form and I can do better than that because, I mean, I’m me. If I fuck it up again, just slap me and we’ll be done with the whole thing.”

He caught up to her in long strides and gently encircled her wrist with one of his hands. She stopped with a harsh breath in and turned back to look at him, her fists clenched at her sides. He let go of her wrist and guided her to the side, away into one of the alleys of Las Vegas. Maybe Max was serious if he was so willing to stand next to garbage.

“I like you,” he tried again as he stood in front of her. “I think about you a lot and when I think about you, I go looking for you. I don’t even know what I’m going to say half the time when I do, alright? I just go and hope for the best. I don’t do that. Any of that. I don’t like people and I don’t hope for the best for...for anything. For anyone. But then there’s you and I do and it’s weird but I don’t hate it and I don’t hate you. That’s the thing! I. Don’t. Hate. You.”

His hands hovered by her shoulders, his eyes imploring her to listen to what he was saying. What was that one line? The one about how wonderful, how strange it was to be liked by something that hates all else? She couldn’t wrap her head around it but she knew she wasn’t angry anymore. Bewildered and breathless and taken aback and unquestionably warm. That’s what she was. Her silence compelled him to step away and she reached out for him. Giggling grew louder on the sidewalk outside the alleyway. They stared at each other, both waiting for something to happen.

“Max, I don’t know…”

She trailed and it didn’t matter that she didn’t know what to say. Anything she could have said was silenced by Max’s lips on hers, his hands on the wall to brace himself. She leaned up into him, her eyes on his and both just as confused. A giggling couple disappeared down the alley and they must have knocked against Max. His hands dropped from the wall to her shoulders and when he went to pull away, she slipped her arms around him and pulled him in. Their stagnant lips began to move and she could taste what it was that smelled so sweet. He could taste the burn of Jameson on her tongue. Their eyes fell shut and they dove into each other.

The tentative way he kissed her melted like sugar to absinthe. His tongue met hers, her teeth nipped at his lips. Not enough to hurt but enough to get his attention. His hands slid from her shoulders to her waist then finally they came to a stop at her hips. He kissed her hard and she met him on even ground, her fingers curled in tight against his broad back. A sound of disgust from him broke them apart and that scowl of his was back on his face. He breathed hard against the skin of her neck.

“Absolutely not,” he said with a borderline growl as he lifted his head and stared down the alley. “We are not making out in a filthy, scum-filled alleyway. I get that this is Vegas and it’s the bottom of the barrel but there is still a thing called standards.”

His hand slid into hers to lead her away and after a second, she laced her fingers with his. She didn’t know what they were or where the hell they would be when the weekend was over and they left this moment. They could figure it out. He looked at her from the corner of his eye and smiled at her. Not a shit-eating one, not a standing-over-your-fallen-enemy one. It was just a simple one, meant for her, and it made her hope that it wasn’t true what they said about Las Vegas. Just this once.

#mjf fanfiction #mjf imagine #mjf fic #aew imagine #aew fic #aew fanfiction #wrestling fic #wrestling imagine #maxwell jacob friedman imagine

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lonely-lost-soul · 3 years

Text

Under The Floorboards (Pt. VIII)

(Technoblade x Reader) First Part: Pt. 1 Latest: Pt.VX

(Feel free to play this while listening to this chapter! Full credit to @Alexx-Kun on Wattpad for suggesting this gorgeous song)

https://youtu.be/kCV4JUqGr64

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Day 1: Forgiveness

Step one you needed to find a venue, you had assigned Ranboo as your honorary maid of honor. The young boy was just as thrilled as he was confused, did you not have any other friends? You were Technoblade’s perfect match if that was the case. Ranboo had no problem voicing that to you and you pouted at him, you argued that everyone who lived with Techno was antisocial. He reluctantly agreed and you smiled proudly, he rolled his eyes and shoved your shoulder with his hand. You laughed, glad you were sitting down, or else you would’ve for sure fallen. Technoblade and you had decided to split the jobs for the wedding between the both of you. You were in charge of the invitations and flowers, basically anything to do with decorating and interacting with other humans. Technoblade meanwhile was in charge of the venue and the official rings, it’s not that you didn’t trust him with more duties it was more that he didn’t trust himself. That and he also believed that you both could just get married in the woods. You at least wanted a small wedding with a few people you cared about, you rubbed your pointer finger and thumb together with a frown.

“You alright?”

“Just thinking about the invitations. Who will come...stuff like that.” Ranboo glanced over at the minuscule stack of letters by the table, it was clearly small, but Ranboo hand wrote them for you in swirl print. They better show up, Ranboo would be pissed if they didn’t, he put a lot of work into those invites.

“They’ll come.” He nodded his head picking them up with his claws, one was for Tommy, another was for Ghostbur, and Ranboo also suggested an invite for Captain Puffy he figured the both of you would get along considering you both had a habit for adopting misfits. You also needed a female friend. “We can deliver them and search for flowers, then tomorrow we can search for a dress for you that sounds okay right?”

“For someone with such a bad memory, you’re surprisingly good at planning,” You watched the boy preen at your compliment.

“Thank you, I also figured we can use the stasis chamber so you only have to walk one way with your ankle.”

“Smart boy.”

“Why thank you,” Ranboo smiled proudly over at you reaching out his hand for you to take. You grabbed it and he pulled you to his feet, he kept his hand interlocked with yours, it was minuscule in comparison to the half enderman’s. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

Slowly but surely the two of you made your way over to the nether portal and into the once-great country. Ranboo placed his hand on your lower back and helped guide you through the rubble of the city. He knew much better than you did where everyone resided, even if you didn’t meet them face to face you’d make a chest and drop it off. Ironically the first person you ran into was the woman Ranboo insisted you meet, Captain Puffy. She’s gorgeous, was your first thought, she was some form of a sheep hybrid dressed like a pirate, two of your favorite things, sorry Technoblade you might’ve met your new wife. You talked with her well into the afternoon, she was just so easy to talk to,

“Can I just say I feel like I’ve known you forever,” She gushed, taking your hands within her own and squeezing fondly. “I’m so happy Ranboo has found someone to watch out for him,” Ranboo flushed in response but didn’t argue against Puffy’s words which warmed your heart.

“I’m happy too. I just want to help these kids in whatever way I can,” You smiled a little forlornly thinking once again of the obnoxious blonde. “They just don’t deserve all the shit they have to deal with, they’re kids you know? They should be living their lives.”

“Yeah keep talking like I’m not here,” Ranboo mused over your shoulder which caused you to laugh with a shake of your head, “no need to stop please continue.” Puffy smiled at the both of you,

“She’s right though Ranboo. You should be out causing mischief or getting into trouble, not fighting in a never-ending war.”

“Oof getting into trouble? No thank you, I just wanna tend to my pets and go on adventures with my friends.”

“You’ll get to do that I promise. Once my ankles healed we’ll go woodland mansion hunting, I’ve been to a few in my time. They’re a lot of fun.”

“Really?”

“Yeah of course!” You beamed and Ranboo smiled right back at you, he brought his journal out of his bag and quickly scribbled something down in it. In the end, Puffy ended up accepting the invitation with a blinding smile,

“You’re going to be a gorgeous bride. Could I bring my girlfriend Niki? You’ll love her!”

“I don’t see why not. I can’t wait to meet her!” You assumed Technoblade wouldn’t mind one more person, especially because he’s never mentioned Niki which was a good thing in your eyes. Usually, if Technoblade talked about you, it was because he wasn’t a fan. You all said your goodbyes, you felt warm inside you couldn’t believe you were about to have TWO friends who are girls.

“Soooooo?”

“I love her.”

“Told you so,” Ranboo smirked. He was proud of himself for forcing someone else to socialize so he didn’t have to. Ranboo was relieved that list of people to invite wasn’t long; considering Technoblade had more enemies than friends. The only thing that rubbed him the wrong way was he didn’t even know that you had invited Tommy in the first place.

So if Tommy did show up, your wedding might be a bloodbath.

You and Ranboo stood outside of Tommy’s house, he glanced down at you and watched your hands clench the envelope. He brought his hands over yours and rubbed them gently, you looked up at him with wide eyes.

“Deep breath and relax okay? He’s Tommy so I won’t say he won’t flip out at you, but I can say you’re a wonderful friend, you’ll be fine.”

“I can’t believe Mr. Panic Room is telling me to relax.” You let out a nervous laugh, he made an offended face.

“Ya know what, never helping you again. You can walk home.”

“Ranboo it was a joke!”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” you stuck your tongue out and headed up to Tommy’s door and knocked. You already knew Tommy might not even be home, the boy was a wanderer by nature. Yet, much to your surprise, the door opened with a loud BANG, and in the doorway stood Tommy looking better than you’ve seen him in all the time he spent with you and Technoblade.

“Hi, Tommy.”

“(Y/N)?” He blinked looking surprised before he steeled his face, “What’re you doing here wench!” Tommy pointed an accusatory finger at you and you raised an eyebrow,

Wench?

That wasn’t going to fly.

“Try again.”

Tommy sputtered as you narrowed his eyes accusingly, his eyes trailed down to the netherite sword at your side. His entire demeanor changed when he spotted it at your side,

“(Y/N)! My friend! Good to see you! How’ve you been? Good? Good!” The boy rambled wrapping an arm around your shoulder with a big smile, there’s the Tommy you remembered. “I’m sure you’re doing good fo’ sho’! Now what do, I owe this pleasure women!”

“I wanted to invite you to Technoblade and I’s wedding,” Your voice was soft and hesitant, holding out the invitation out to him. The teenager blinked a few times before taking it from your hands, he flipped it over confusion was etched deep on his brow.

“You’re getting married? To Technoblade? He’s going to have a wife and I’m not?”

You blinked a few times trying to process what Tommy said, was he more mad at the fact that Technoblade was getting married in the first place? “Well yeah, considering I’m his fiance and all…”

“That motherfucker! He gets to have a wife! I want a wife! (Y/N) acquire me a wife!”

You let out howling laughter at his response, tossing your arms around the boy, he went silent and a confused look came across his face. His ears turned red as he looked over at Ranboo with a face that screamed help me, Ranboo simply looked away holding up a prominent middle finger at the boy. “Okay, okay! Enough hugs,” Tommy ranted shoving you away from him with a huff, “I don’t know what’s so funny about me needing a wife.”

“You’ll find a wife eventually,” You couldn’t help but smile as he frowned down at you. “So? Can you make it?” Voice quiet as you looked up at him, the nervousness from before creeping back into your body, he chewed on his bottom lip while looking at you. Tommy wasn’t about to be soft while Ranboo was standing less than a foot away so he did the next best thing which was whacking you on top of the head.

“I-well-...” Tommy rubbed the back of his neck looking nervous for the first time in his life, “I can’t.” He saw your face fall and he grabbed your shoulders tightly, “Not because I don’t want to! I… I guess you’re not TERRIBLE.” He admitted begrudgingly, “Tubbo and I...we have some unfinished business we need to deal with before things get any worse for people.”

“I don’t know what you mean Tommy.” You suddenly grew very concerned, “You don’t have to hold the entire world on your shoulders.”

“Yeah, I do,” Tommy responded with enough seriousness to shake you to your core, you didn’t know about his past with the discs fully, but you knew enough to know this situation was about that. “Just know I’m happy for you, seriously I am,” He gave you a sad smile.

“Stay safe Tommy. Please don’t be stupid.”

“I’m never stupid you BITCH!”

“Call me a bitch again you BRAT!”

“MAKE ME!”

You frowned, hitting him in the side so he would double over, while he gripped his stomach you pulled him into a headlock and began digging your knuckles into his skull. “Apologize!”

“NEVER!”

Ranboo looked sheepish as he stared at the scene, his shoulders slumping forward. “(Y/N) we have a schedule-” Reluctantly you released Tommy and he stumbled back, he huffed dusting off his shirt. You smiled slightly over at the boy,

“See you soon raccoon boy,” you gave him a proud salute.

“Hasta La Vista Miss Blade,” Tommy responded, saluting you right back.

You turned away from the boy and headed back over to Ranboo’s side, “You ready?” You nodded in response with a little smile on your lips. “Good. Next, up is Ghostbur right? We need to find him.”

“If we can locate Friend we can locate him.”

It took a while, but eventually, you and Ranboo found Ghostbur and Friend wandering around a forest nearby the crater. Immediately spotting you a bright smile spread across the ghost’s face, “(Y/N)!” He shouted, throwing his hand in the air with a wave, “How’re you doing darling!”

“I’m good Ghostbur! Have you met Ranboo?”

“Briefly. Nice to see you again!”

“Ugh, ditto,” Ranboo responded with a shy smile shuffling a little behind you.

You smiled and pulled an envelope out from your bag, you held it out to him.

“You and Friend good sir, are invited to Technoblade and I’s wedding.” He gasped loudly, eyes lighting up with pure and utter joy,

“Technoblade getting married! Oh my god, that’s phenomenal! You’re going to make the most beautiful bride,” he praised excitedly as your face turned red at the compliments, “Gosh, you two are so lovely together, I wouldn’t miss this for the world! Do you have a dress? You have to show me!”

You rubbed the back of your head, rocking on your heels, “Well...about that.”

“Do not tell me you don’t have a DRESS?” He practically yelled crossing his arms, “I’m disappointed in you!”

“It’s in two days Ghostbur! I had no time! I’ll make do with something. I’m sure I have an old dress somewhere-”

“UNACCEPTABLE!” He grabbed at your hands, “I’m getting you a dress. I’ll meet you at Technoblade’s tomorrow, just hold on!” Ghostbur ran his hand through Friend’s wool with a smile, “You’re going to be one of the most gorgeous brides, only second to Sally.”

“Well I’m honored, I’ll see you then.” You smiled adoringly at the little ghost as he floated off his sheep buddy by his side.

“Do you think he’s getting you a dress?”

“I have no idea,” You responded with a shrug, “It’s sweet he’s willing to put in the effort though.”

“Or creepy.”

“It’s sweet you jerk,” You nudged him with your arm Ranboo smiled,

“I’m just glad it’s off our to-do list for tomorrow.”

“True that means you can sleep in,” You teased as his multicolored eyes lit up,

“Hell yeah.”

~~~

Day 2: Ghostbur’s Gift

You woke up to sleepy kisses and tender touches, one of the loveliest ways to wake up if you might add.

“Morning big guy,” You cooed fondly as he made a soft purr-like sound in his throat. You turned over to face him and he immediately pressed a kiss to your lips. The voices couldn’t help but point out how cute you looked in the morning.

“Helloooo...How’s your ankle?” He asked his thumb brushing against your cheek, closing your eyes you let out a soft,

“Much better.”

“Good, I heard from Ranboo Ghostbur’s supposedly stopping by today. Any particular reason?”

“He says he has a dress I can wear for tomorrow.”

“How does he have a dress exactly?”

“No idea, but I’m going with it.”

“If you’re sure. Just don’t look bad.” You frowned and bonked him on the side of his head, “it was a joke!”

“It better be a joke or I’m leaving your ass. I look good in everything so fuck off.” You hissed as Technoblade groaned,

“Heard you loud and clear Princess. Scouts honor, you’re the most beautiful girl to me you know that.”

“I do. Just don’t joke around like that, makes me feel bad okay?”

He frowned a little and moved to hover over you, his hair framed his face and fell past his shoulders. It tickled your cheeks and you ran your hands through it meeting anything but his eyes suddenly feeling very self-conscious. Technoblade kissed the tip of your nose,

“Hey, Princess look at me.”

Turning your head towards his voice, the two of you locked eyes, a sense of calm washed over you, the only thing in his eyes was pure, unadulterated love.

“You’re the most beautiful girl in the world to me. No matter what I’m always going to think that you are, you could grow a third eye and I’d still want to marry you tomorrow. I’m sorry I made you feel bad, it was a joke but I won’t make it again. I swear.” You felt your eyes water as you tossed your arms around his neck, the sudden movement caused him to fall forward crushing you beneath him.

“I love you too bubba. Thank you for listening to me.”

“That’s part of my job idiot.”

You smiled against his neck and held him tighter, Technoblade reciprocated the hug and decided the both of you could stay in bed just a little while longer. The two of you shared soft kisses, every once in a while Technoblade would reinforce how precious you were to him, eventually, it all got to be too much and you shoved your hands in his face.

“Enough is enough! I’m embarrassed now.” Technoblade laughed at your flustered expression and pressed a fond kiss to your lips, obviously you kissed him back, your fingers threading through his hair.

“Princess…” He let out a pleased sound in the back of his throat, “you’re making it hard to get out of bed. I still have some stuff set up for tomorrow and you gotta look out for Wilbur.”

“Or hear me out. You can stay in bed with me all day, and keep giving me kisses,” You pressed your lips to his own before whispering in his ear, “Anywhere you’d like.” You nipped teasingly at his earlobe and suddenly felt the heat radiating off his face. As you expected his face was a deep red color and you felt his head fall against your shoulder,

“You’re going to kill me.” You only laughed in response, finally pulling away from him you swung your feet over the side of the bed, “you can’t just say that and walk away.” He whined loudly with a little pout on his lips, “Especially since I won’t see you until the wedding.”

“Suck it up buttercup,” You stuck your tongue out at the man “I’ll just be at Ranboo’s if something goes wrong I’ll be within reach.” He reached his hand up and threaded his fingers through your hair, you sighed pleasantly at the physical touch, “I love you.”

“Love you too, see you tomorrow.” You gave him one last fleeting kiss before standing up leaving the warmth of the covers and your half-naked fiance behind much to your dismay. You tossed one of Technoblade’s old shirts over your head, it came down past your knees and Technoblade let out a happy sigh from behind you. You let out a little laugh, looking at him over your shoulder his eyes were half-lidded as he stared at your now bare legs. “Hold on don’t change just yet I wanna stare a little bit longer.”

“Perv.” You snickered ignoring his wishes and sliding on a pair of pants, afterward, you tied a corset around your waist. He responded with a ‘heh?’ of disagreement before he groaned loudly and flopped over in the bed, “see you soon Bubbas.” You leaned over and pecked his forehead before sliding down the ladder and out of the house. Ironically your timing was perfect as you greeted Ranboo right outside Technoblades cabin, “Good morning!”

“Morning, you and Techno sleep okay?” You nodded with a bright smile, “Good Wilbur should be stopping by any minute now by the way. He sent me a note earlier this morning that said he’d be around this time.”

“Works for me, wanna wait by your house?”

“You just wanna pet my bunny,” You smirked and laughed,

“Can you blame me?”

“I suppose not. Whatever makes you happy.” Ranboo sighed but there wasn’t any real defeat in his tone, “Let’s go.” Ranboo and you walked a little ways away to his humble little shack so you could play with Ranbun. You were set up in Ranbun’s pen holding him in your arms and cooing softly at him, Ranboo joined you after a few moments of jealous staring. The two of you spent the next hour playing with his bunny and feeding him lots of treats, he was one happy bunny. Ranboo was the first person to see Ghostbur coming through the trees, a large box in hand, had he actually managed to get you a dress?

“(Y/N)! Ranboo!” Ghostbur shouted excitedly floating over to the both of you, “I managed to find the dress I promised you! So long as it fits of course.” Your jaw fell open as you stumbled out of Ranbun’s pen,

“How the hell did you manage to find me a wedding dress?”

“Oh! It was Sally’s.” A fond smile spread across the ghost’s face, both you and Ranboo looked at one another brows furrowed. Ranboo put a hand to the side of his face and whispered loudly to you,

“I thought Sally was a fish.”

You whispered back in the exact same manner,

“Me too, but at this point, I’m too afraid to ask for clarification.”

Ranboo nodded seriously and stood back up to his full height, you stepped forward and took the box from the hands of the ghost he stared at it longingly like he was afraid to let it go. You chewed on the inside of your cheek for a moment before speaking up,

“Are you sure?” Your voice was barely above a whisper but it was still as tender as ever, the ghost of Wilbur snapped his eyes up to meet yours. He seemed to be reading the expression in your eyes before smiling almost fondly, handing the box over to you officially. He pulled out a small patch of blue and fumbled it around in his hands, like a nervous tic,

“I’m positive love. I trust you to take good care of it and Sally would want you to have it, she was wonderful like that. Just please take good care of it.”

“I’ll protect it with my life. I promise you.”

“I know you will, you’re going to be a beautiful bride, my dear.” He somehow took your hands and pressed a faint kiss to them, “Go on then try it on.” Your eyes sparkled in delight and he turned to Ranboo,

“Well go on, we’ll still be here to judge you immensely.”

“Oh fuck off.” You laughed heading into his shack to change, you managed to find an area not completely out in the open. The only nerve-wracking thing was you didn’t have a mirror so you had to pray you looked alright and that Raboo and Ghostbur wouldn’t lie to you. You opened the box and pulled the dress out, Sally really knew how to pick a damn good dress; the dress was stunning, you definitely wouldn’t do it justice. The dress fell past your feet and pooled a little ways behind you, it was more of an off-white creme color, and was made of soft lace. It was sleeveless so the winter wind gave you a chill, you hoped Technoblade picked a place that wasn’t freezing cold. You took a breath to hype yourself up and stepped out of the shack, the dress trailing behind you, you had left the veil in the box figuring you didn’t need it right now. The first person to spot you was Ghostbur, who gasped loudly bringing his hands up to his face after spotting you. You shrunk in on yourself a little bit and your cheeks turned a light pink in response, “That’s a good expression I hope.” You meekly laughed as Ranboo turned around and let out a shaky break of surprise. He reached forward with his claws to touch the soft fabric,

“It’s perfect! Fits like a glove.” Wilbur hummed happily floating around you, “I was right by the way, you look beautiful. Techno’s going to pass out.”

“Shut up I can’t look that good.”

“You do though!” Ranboo shouted excitedly, “It suits you perfectly not that I had any doubts or anything.” He jumped a little on the balls of his feet, he pulled out his memory book quickly scribbling something down inside it, as he did so he muttered “I’m the best honorary maid of honor ever.”

“You definitely are.” You praised the halfling who only seemed to grow more excited at the praise, Ghostbur cleared his throat, was he looking for a compliment too? “Ghostbur you’re a lifesaver, if it wasn’t for you I’d be walking down the aisle in Netherite. Thank you.” Ghostbur seemed to preen a little as he smiled proudly,

“I know. I’m pretty great aren’t I? I basically saved the day.”

“You certainly are.”

“Oh! Just return the dress the next time I see you after the wedding okay?”

“I will have no fear, it’s in safe hands.” The ghost nodded, “I can’t wait to see it in action tomorrow.”

“Me too,” you sighed lovingly, doing a little twirl in the dress you could only imagine the look that would appear on Technoblade’s face when he saw you.

You hoped the voices would approve because Technoblade was absolutely going to short circuit and go feral, you could hardly wait.

Day 3: The Wedding Day

The night before the wedding Technoblade couldn’t sleep his body was buzzing with nerves, which was a foreign feeling to him. He was worried about you not sleeping by his side, this was the first time since you’ve officially gotten together that you weren’t there. He didn’t realize how much he missed your presence and warmth, he pulled the pillow you usually used close to his chest. He felt like a love-struck teenager cuddling the pillow of his missing girlfriend because that’s basically what he was, except instead of a girlfriend it was his fiance. The voices didn’t help his longing either; they were roaring in his head asking where you were and when you would come back.

Where’s (Y/N)? I miss her! Can Ranboo protect her if something goes wrong? What if Dream gets ahold of her in the meantime and you’re up here sleeping? I wanna squeeze her thighs again right now. E. That’s disgusting, stop, don’t sexualize her like that. B U T T. Can I get a big pog for butts? Thighs for the thigh god.

His entire face went a deep scarlet, “What does that even mean guys.” Technoblade let out a loud groan of embarrassment, some of the voices laughed, some others rumbled with anger. “I just want her by my side is all, I miss her. I miss her touch...I don’t know when I became such a sap. I hate that I care about her this much, but god without her I’d be lost.”

SIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMPSIMP

“You shits.”

The morning rolled around and Technoblade woke up as soon as the sun shone through the windows. He fell asleep around three in the morning, tired as shit, bees buzzing around in his stomach.

Today’s the day! Gotta get ready as soon as possible, you’re gonna look so handsome! I bet (Y/N)’s gonna be equally as beautiful! Don’t fuck it up. Celebratory murder spree pog? She’ll think you’re so hot covered in blood. No! E. Normalcy is key!

He shook his head to get rid of the nagging voices rattling around in his head, he knew what he had to do, and listening to the voices wasn’t one of them. Phil was going to come soon and Technoblade had to look presentable so they could head to the venue and Phil could set up some last-minute decorations. Techno would say he felt bad making Phil do most of the work, but he honestly didn’t, especially since he was so inept at romance in the first place. Never one to wear a suit Technoblade decided his best outfit would be his arctic retirement one, a suit would be too constricting. After all, what if it was attacked and he needed to jump into action, Phil had told him that he was absolutely not allowed to bring weapons which he was not happy about at all. Although the man did reassure him that he would be armed and have an extra weapon just in case something was to occur, he guessed that was FINE. With a soft huff, the man stood up from his bed and pulled out his outfit, the soft blue made him yearn for the days before they found Tommy living under the house. In a way wearing this symbolized a time in their relationship before he was forced into bloodshed once again, plus he knew you loved the fuzzier outfit.

Putting on everything, he brought the fur cape around his shoulders, his crown glittering on his head in the light. He looked regal, he would say he looked like a king but he hated all forms of government so he just looked like his usual badass self. In his closet sat his wedding gift to you, it was a gold tiara that matched his crown in his own way finally solidifying the both of you as a blood god duo.

Turning away from the tiara he grabbed a hairbrush to tame his wild hair, he wanted to do something different with it. It spilled around his back and down to his waist, he managed to tame the frizz with some product that he ‘borrowed’ from you. In the end, he had two small braids framing his face, he grabbed both of them and pinned them together on the back of his head. A half-up half-down look almost made him look like a Viking, he liked it. Technoblade placed gold earrings along with his ears and added some gold accents on his wrists and fingers, none overshading his engagement ring.

His ears twitched hearing the door open downstairs, Phil was here, it was time.

“Hellooo!” Technoblade called from upstairs and Phil responded with a cheerful,

“Hey mate!”

As Technoblade descended the ladder, Phil smiled fondly at his old friend, he immediately adjusted the cape on his shoulders. Technoblade huffed a small laugh, “Was that really necessary?”

“Obviously. I’m the married one, I know what I’m doing.” He shot back snickering, “You ready to go?”

“As I’ll ever be I suppose.”

“I’m proud of you man,” Phil responded with a fatherly smile “You’re never going to forget today. It’ll be the best of your life.”

“Ehhhh I don’t know about that. Spawning those Withers and blowing up a country really gave me a rush.”

“Oh fuck off,” Phil howled with laughter while shoving the snickering piglin. “This’ll be an entirely new feeling, I would know.” His wings puffed out happily remembering his marriage fondly,

“Didn’t you marry a fridge?”

“You’re literally the worst.”

Technoblade smirked just happy he steered the conversation away from any of that mushy crap. He was going to get enough of that as it is in a few hours, oh look at that the bees are back. Phil gave him a pat on the back and the two of them left the house side by side. The spot Technoblade picked out for the wedding was one both of you would like, a snowy taiga, it was warm enough that you wouldn’t freeze to death but still had the beautiful powdery snow that Tecnhoblade loved. Phil had done an amazing job of setting everything up, on the arch, there were beautiful blue flowers interspersed with white roses (both of which you picked out prior), they stood out beautifully against the wooden trellises. There was a carved stone pathway leading the way up to the arch and a few wooden benches decorated with light blue silk so whomever (Y/N) invited could sit down. He knew most of them would only be there for her, he was okay with that, all he needed was Phil and Ranboo and he was content. Next to each booth was a stone pillar, on top of them sat a bouquet of white and blue roses.

“You really outdid yourself, thank you.” Technoblade whistled,

“You know I’d do anything for you mate. Glad I could provide, I do have one last little decoration though.” Phil mused reaching into his bag he pulled out a small gold bell similar to the one he had inside his house. He placed the bell above the arch so it would chime softly when the wind blew against its side. Technoblade smiled fondly at the sight and wrapped his arm around Phil’s shoulder.

“I love it. (Y/N)’s gonna love it too.”

“Thanks, man.” Phil said softly bumping against the blade, “Do you know who’s going to show up by the way?”

“Absolutely no idea.”

“Guess we’re gonna find out, look.” Technoblade stepped away from Phil and looked in the direction of his friend, cresting over the hill seemed to be two girls, Technoblade was immediately confused because he didn’t realize you had friends who were women. Phil let out a small laugh, “Oh it’s Niki and Puffy, Ranboo must’ve introduced (Y/N) to them.” Technoblade only nodded his lips twitching into a frown, new people...gross.

“Hi, Phil! Technoblade!” Puffy chirped brightly, her hand intertwined with Niki’s tightly, “Congratulations to you Mr.” She lightly tapped Technoblade in the chest he blinked in surprise,

“Thank you?”

“I may have just met (Y/N), but just know if you do ANYTHING to hurt her at all I will slaughter you.”

“Darling please…” Niki sheepishly smiled, “you realize you’re threatening Technoblade right? Not the best idea.”

“It’s alright. I admire your gumption,” Technoblade gave the both of them a thumbs up in response, “I’m glad (Y/N) has someone else like that looking out for her. But, just so you know. The same to you.” He eyed the both of them with a sharp look in his eyes, Puffy let out a nervous laugh and Niki narrowed her eyes warily.

“That’s fair.”

“Anyway!” Phil cleared his throat, “let's not ruin this before it even starts.” He led the two girls over to their seats with a small smile, “(Y/N) will be super happy to see you both by the way. Thank you for coming.”

“Of course, (Y/N) and I are soulmates after all.” Puffy swooned happily as Niki giggled fondly at her antics, “Technoblade better watch out. Niki and I will steal her heart.”

“I’ll be sure to warn him,” He snickered, glancing over at his friend who was sniffing at the flowers in the pots. “If you need anything don’t hesitate to ask, Wilbur should be here soon then (Y/N) and Ranboo will come and it’ll start.”

“Sounds good,” Niki hummed playing with the sleeves of her blue dress “I’m super excited to meet her.”

While Puffy reassured her that she would, Phil noticed his son floating over to the area. “Hello, Phil!” The ghost’s eyes lit up seeing all of them, “Oh wow everything is so beautiful!”

“Thanks, Ghostbur.” Technoblade hummed walking over to Phil and the ghost,

“I’m proud of you too Mr. Engaged!” He snickered as Technoblade’s nose scrunched up in distaste, “Who knew the big, scary Technoblade would settle down with a wife, maybe start a family eventually.”

“I’m going to pretend that I didn’t hear any of the cringy nonsense that just came out of your mouth; so I can enjoy today in peace.”

"Boo! I’m just happy for you!” Ghostbur huffed in annoyance, “I was telling (Y/N) yesterday that marrying Sally was the best day of my life! I’m so making fun of you when you get all mushy.”

“IF I get all mushy, which I won’t.”

“Sure you won’t man,” Technoblade glared at his friends in frustration if this teasing was going to continue. He was kidnapping (Y/N) himself and getting married to her elsewhere.

“I do love all the blue though!” The ghost of Wilbur swooned happily at all the flowers, “This just makes the entire day even better!-”

However he didn’t get to continue as Ranboo cleared his throat rather loudly, the enderboy looked dapper as always, a rose was pinned on his lapel, obviously from (Y/N).

"Ready Techno?” Phil looked over at him, the pigman’s frustration and confidence fell from his face all at once. Even Ghostbur was shocked at the way Technoblade tensed up and fumbled with the soft fluff on his cape, “Techno?”

It’s time. Holy fuck! She’s going to be stunning, he’s going to be a husband! HE’S GOING TO BE A HUSBAND? Oh fuck.

“Techno mate you alright?”

"Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. Let's do this.” Technoblade took a deep breath walking over to the altar with Phil, Phil was obviously officiating the wedding. He didn’t want anyone else doing it, Ranboo smiled at the two of them as he walked down the aisle throwing little flower petals everywhere before standing on (Y/N)’s side of the altar. He gave him a happy little nod, Technoblade nodded back at him in a sign that he was happy to see him. Music began to flow through the air, Technoblade just knew Wilbur had managed to bring a jukebox, but he didn’t mind it was fitting.

He turned towards the rich sound and for once in his life the voices...stopped.

Technoblade could hear the music perfectly, he heard the chiming of the bell every time the wind blew, everything seemed clear and for all the sounds that were playing around him without the rancorous voices, it all seemed deadly quiet.

The true reason the voices stopped though was because he saw you.

Elegant. Magnificent. Royalty.

The words spun around in his head, because god you looked angelic as you walked towards him. He wished your face wasn’t obscured by a veil, he wanted to see you, to cup your cheeks and pull you into a desperate kiss. He wasn’t worthy to marry you, he was barely worthy to breathe the same air as someone so pure. Technoblade bit down on his tongue rather harshly, for once in his life he wished the voices would speak up so he wouldn’t feel so small in his head.

“Hi.”

Your silvery voice snapped him out of his thoughts, he drew in a shaky breath and looked at you.

“Hi,” His voice cracked a little and he flushed all the way up to the tips of his ears. He reached out to squeeze your hands tightly, he felt you squeeze back and he knew that everything was okay. Fuck, he was tearing up a little and he hasn’t even seen your face yet, fuck...Ghostbur was right. He was a mushy gross mess, you giggled a little at his flustered expression.

“You look handsome,” You whispered softly tilting your head to the side.

“You’re Aphrodite herself.”

“Take it back. Take it back right now.” The teasing tone your voice took made him relax considerably, you were still you. His lovely almost wife who’d he got to spend the rest of his life with, it was perfect, you were perfect.

“You know I do, even if it kills me to retract the statement.” His hand reached forward and gently pushed the veil back over your head.

Fuck.

It took all his strength not to kiss you senseless. Phil cleared his throat and smiled at the small crowd of people who came to the wedding, Puffy seemed to already be emotional, Niki rubbing her back with gentle circles. The both of you barely paid any attention to the introductions and the little details too engrossed in one another to truly listen to anyone that wasn’t each other. They both snapped to attention when Phil spoke their names with a tender smile and their wedding rings were in his hands.

“Your wedding rings are the outward and visible sign of the inward and invisible bond which already unites you two hearts in love. Groom, place the ring on Bride’s finger and repeat after me….I give you this ring…”

“I give you this ring.” Technoblade swallowed thickly listening carefully to Phil’s words as you smiled adoringly, the pink spreading across your cheeks was adorable. He shakily slid the diamond ring on your finger,

“Wear it with love and joy.”

“As this ring has no end, My love is also forever.”

“Good job man.” He winked teasingly at Technoblade breaking character to complement his friend, “Bride, place the ring on Groom’s finger and repeat after me….I give you this ring.”

“I give you this ring.”

“Wear it with love and joy.”

“As this ring has no end, my love is also forever.”

“As this ring has no end, my love is also forever.” You breathed softly staring into Technoblade’s eyes and right into his soul. No doubts, only love. Phil continued on,

“May the wedding rings you exchanged today to remind you always that you are surrounded by enduring love and so now by the power vested in me by...me, it is my honor and delight to declare you husband and wife. You may seal this declaration with a kiss.” You didn’t need to be told twice as you threw your arms around Technoblade’s shoulders smothering him with a kiss. He let out a breathy laugh against them, before kissing you back just as passionately. Technoblade’s hands rested on your lower back and he held you like you were a perfect porcelain doll. “I am pleased to present the newlyweds, Mr. and Mrs… ugh Blade! We’ll go with that.” The man laughed as you pulled away from Technoblade to join in his laughter, you pulled Phil into a hug and motioned for Ranboo to join in, both did so, although Ranboo’s was slightly reluctant.

“Thank you both for everything. My sweet Borealis boys.” You cooed, Phil only laughed and Ranboo’s entire face flushed deeply at the nickname.

“We love you obviously,” Phil hummed “You don’t need to thank us. Right Ranboo?”

“Do I really have to say it?”

“Yes.” Technoblade spoke gruffly, “If you don’t she might cry.”

“Yeah, Ranboo don’t make me cry on my wedding day.”

“Oh, Christ...Fine! I love you too…thank you for giving me a home. Caring for me...all of that. You don’t know how much that means to me.” Ranboo looked up at you and you immediately wrapped him in another tight hug, he let out a little whimper and buried his face in your hair.

“You’ll always be welcome here Ranboo. We’ll always be your home so long as you’ll have us.”

“Shit,” He laughed a little wetly pulling away from you, “I’ll have to write that down.”

“You mean you’ll forget it? Rude.” It was Technoblade who chimed in this time and Ranboo flushed in embarrassment once again. He hunched in on himself before sputtering,

“No, no, no not what I meant! What I mean is like-”

“Ranboo you’re fine mate.” Phil snickered, reaching up to ruffle his hair, “loosen up a little.”

“(Y/N)!” You turned towards the shouting of your new friends and your face lit up,

“Puffy!” The two girls threw their arms around you in a warm hug, even though you didn’t know Niki yet you’re never one to turn down a hug.

Your final conclusion of the night: Niki was absolutely lovely and she and Puffy were relationship goals.

~~~

Candles were littered around the room as you and Technoblade swayed gently to soft music in your bedroom. The both of you were finally alone, and officially married, the first thing Technoblade wanted to do was have the first dance with you. It surprised you that a dance was that important to him, but you came to the conclusion that he just wanted to hold you as close as possible. “I have a gift for you,” Technoblade spoke up rather suddenly and you frowned,

“We said no gifts.”

“When have I EVER listened to authority Princess?”

“Touche,” You snapped your fingers in his direction and he snickered. He pulled away from you and you flopped down on the bed, you watched him walk over to the closet and pull out a medium-sized velvet box. “Bubs what the hell…” You murdered as he placed it into your arms, “please tell me you didn’t go too crazy.”

“I didn’t. I made it by hand,” Technoblade urged you to open it. You did so pulling off the top, jaw-dropping onto the floor. He knew that reaction was positive and pride swelled in his heart, he knew his girl well. He watched as you lifted the golden tiara out of the box, it was littered with gems that matched his crown, your thumb brushed against them in awe.

“You made this?”

“Just for you Princess. Thought you needed something to fit your name.”

“I’m so in love with you.”

“Good thing you're my wife then,” he felt his stomach swoop happily and by the way you gently caressed the crown, he knew you felt the same about him. “Put it on Princess I wanna see how it looks on you.” Your face turned red as you did as he asked, his eyes grew half-lidded and he kneeled down in front of you, “Stunning.” He kissed the inside of your wrist, his voice turning gruff, “beautiful.” A kiss was placed on your forearm, “gorgeous,” On your shoulder, “My princess. My good girl.” Technoblade pressed a hot kiss to your neck, you leaned back your breath hitching in your throat.

“Techno…” You whined softly, “I love you.”

“Love you more.”

“Love you most,” He purred, capturing your lips in a heated kiss.

~~~

The dogs' rapid barking stirred you from your rest, Technoblade grumbled beside you as you sat up in bed letting the covers fall from your shoulders. The air nipped at your bare skin and you frowned, you couldn’t help but wonder what bothered the dogs so suddenly, “Go back to bed.” Technoblade demanded his hand caressing the small of your back, you leaned back against the warm touch but you couldn’t shake away your worry.

“I’ll be back in two seconds.” You leaned down to kiss the top of his head, he only hummed in response. Big guy knew you could handle yourself just fine, n’ that’s why you loved him. You slipped on a robe and your slippers before making your way to the dogs, stepping inside you heard quite a few of them whining, they just seemed genuinely bothered. “What’s going on huh guys?” You cooed scratching them behind their ears, sensing your comforting presence they seemed to calm down considerably, “What’s got my fearsome guard puppies so spooked.”

“That’d probably be me.”

You jumped halfway in the air, whipping around you came face to face with the hollow white mask that Dream commonly wore.

“Fucking shit Dream what the hell?” You pressed your hand to your heart, your dogs growling lowly all around you. “You scared the shit out of me!”

“My bad.” He smirked in a way that showed he wasn’t at all sorry, “I’m a little disappointed I didn’t get an invitation to the wedding.”

“Would you have even shown up?” You raised an eyebrow as he stepped closer to you, Nightmare was at his hip making your bad vibe senses light up like a wildfire. He hummed thoughtfully rubbing his chin,

“Probably not. But, I decided I’d drop by and give you my congratulations.” He was close enough that you could smell him, he smelled like burning wood and dirt; like a little pissbaby worm.

“Well thank you,” You wrapped the robe tighter around your body like it suddenly dropped ten degrees. “You can go now-” You started before you were pressed up against the wall, his fearsome blade Nightmare at your throat. The dogs began to bark and howl at the man’s heels but they couldn’t do much without a direct command, but you hoped it would be enough to draw Technoblade out of the house.

“Clearly Technoblade cares about you much more than I had originally calculated. It’s kind of pathetic if I’m being honest. Someone like you who's so small, so pathetic, could bring Technoblade, the fearsome blood god himself, down like that. Make him soft. We can’t exactly have that now, can we? We need him...How do I say this...a bit feral, unhinged.”

“You realize you kill me, you can count on him hunting you down and slaughtering you right? I can’t say for sure the ‘favor’ is completely off the table but he’ll half-ass it that’s for sure.” You snarled right back in Dreams face, tempted to spit in it.

“Oh, I’m not going to kill you, babe.” His voice dripped like honey, its sickly sweet tone made your stomach churn. “But we’re going to get really comfortable with one another, for the time being, you’re under my custody.”

“What the fuck does that mean you freak-” He hit you on the back of the head with Nightmare, successfully knocking you out. That caused one of the dogs to absolutely lose it, jumping up and tearing off a piece of Dreams bright green hoodie. He snarled at the dog and jolted when he heard Technoblade call for (Y/N), it was close. He quickly messaged his accomplice and was teleported out of the situation, via his own stasis chamber, appearing back in his home base. He smiled wickedly under his mask, as Enderman noises could be heard behind him. He adjusted the girl in his grip, the next few days were going to be a lot of fun.

: )

~~~

Leave your comments below and I hope you enjoyed! Memes and fanart is also always welcome your girl is thirsty for any scrap of content.

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junghelioseok · 4 years

Text

clandestine. | 01

↳ forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.

◇ jungkook x reader ◇ smut | fluff | brother’s best friend!au ◇ 10.3k [1/6]

notes: this fic was originally going to be a oneshot, but i changed my mind and decided i didn’t want to kill tumblr with a totally unnecessary 50k jk fic so 🤷🏻‍♀️ here is part one of a fic that 100% only came about because @puellaigmotum coerced me into it like 2 years ago (lmao rip 💀) and also bc i have zero self-control and am hopelessly h*rny for jungkook these days and don’t look at me i don’t wanna talk about it okay??? 🙈

warnings: jk’s massive noona kink, some ~under the table~ action, too much detail about jk’s dumb veiny arms probably, but at least he doesn’t have tattoos bc i started writing this before he got them and i don’t need to torture myself anymore than i already do!!!

⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06

It’s always been easy to spot your brother in a crowd. Passengers flood off the train, jostling around you on their way to the station’s exit, but even in the swarm you can perfectly see Jimin’s golden head of hair bobbing its way toward you, a deep scowl etched across his face. “You’re late,” he says in lieu of a greeting, his honey brown eyes raking over your scuffed suitcase distastefully as he comes to a stop a few feet away.

“And you’re just as impatient as ever,” you retort, coming to a stop before him with your luggage in tow. “Think you can lord it over me since you can drive now?”

“Don’t forget that I’m your ride home,” Jimin scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I could just as easily leave you here to fend for yourself.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” you tell him, raising a brow in silent challenge.

Jimin stares down at you unflinchingly, and you stare right back. The tension stretches between you, taut and heavy, until every passing second feels like a light year. Around you, the crowd slowly dissipates, but still you remain—two motionless statues locked in a wordless struggle. From somewhere overhead, a monotone voice announces the next train departure times.

Jimin’s mouth twitches. You blink, twice in quick succession.

And then your little brother breaks into a grin—one that’s so wide you fear his mouth may detach from his face entirely. An answering smile settles across your face as you watch him throw his head back, dissolving into laughter that you can’t help but echo.

“Damn it, Chim!” you say, instinctively grabbing onto his wrist when it looks like he might fall over. “Your poker face still sucks.”

“I’ve gotten better!” Jimin immediately defends. “I mean, you’ve got to admit that, right?”

“Nope.” You sigh and hold a hand over your head so you can measure your height against his ever-so-slightly taller frame. “Same old annoying kid I grew up with. Seriously, have you grown at all in the past year?”

“Whoa, too far, Noona.” Jimin takes ahold of both of your cheeks, pinching them affectionately. “You’re only a year older than me, you know. Besides, I’ve been taller than you for two years now!”

“I’m pretty sure hitting puberty at age seventeen isn’t something to be proud of,” you reply, pulling away from him with a mock grimace and giggling when he lets out an offended squeak. Playfully, you reach up to ruffle his hair, scrubbing your knuckles just a little too roughly against his skull.

“Noonaaa,” he complains, drawing out the last syllable until he runs out of air. “Jeez, you haven’t even been back for an hour yet and you’re already being mean to me. When do you go back to Seoul again?”

“Three weeks,” you reply, narrowing your eyes. “But I can and will make these three weeks hell for you. Don’t test me.”

Jimin snickers and drapes his arm over your shoulders. He picks up your suitcase with the other hand, and you thank him with another, gentler hair ruffle as the two of you start toward the exit of the train station. “College hasn’t changed you one bit.”

“And senior year hasn’t changed you,” you say, letting him guide you outside and breathing in the balmy summer evening air. Jimin’s brow furrows as he tries to remember where he’s parked, and you kindly take your suitcase back when he nods decisively and heads toward the left side of the lot. “You excited to graduate?”

He sighs, fumbling in his pocket for the keys as the two of you approach the car. “It’s going to suck. Your ceremony was boring as hell last year.”

“Wow, rude.”

Jimin looks up from where he’s unlocking the driver’s side door. “Am I wrong, though?”

You flash him a grin as he unlocks the remaining doors, heaving your suitcase into the backseat before sliding into the passenger seat beside him. “Nope. But afterward, you’ll be done with high school forever.”

“Thank god.” Your brother rakes a hand through his hair, mussing it further as he carefully starts the ignition and checks his mirrors with all the diligence of a new driver. Once satisfied, he pulls out of the parking space, meandering his way out of the lot and onto the main street.

The ride back to your childhood home is a short one, full of familiar storefronts and landmarks that dredge up all sorts of fond memories. You hadn’t expected your first year of university—away from your family and your hometown—to make you quite so emotional. But before you know it, Jimin is making the turn into your neighborhood, and you can’t stop the way your eyes begin to well up when you see your house in the distance.

As if reading your mind, Jimin glances at you as he pulls into the driveway. “Feel good to be home?”

You nod, blinking back tears. “Feels great.”

He grins. Pulling the key from the ignition, he climbs out of the car and grabs your suitcase, waving for you to head inside. Eagerly, you start toward the front door, but you barely make it halfway up the driveway when it bursts open, revealing your father standing there with open arms and an enormous grin. He’s just as tall as you remember, and looks exactly the same save a few more strands of silver lacing his hair. All of a sudden, you’re a little girl again, running up to give him a hug and giggling madly when he tries to scoop you up like he used to do so many years ago.

“Hi Dad,” you greet when he gives up and sets you back down on two feet. “Where’s Mom?”

“Cooking up a storm,” he replies, chortling. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, he leads you into the kitchen where your mother is hunched over the stove with a spatula, delicious aromas wafting up from the array of pots and pans in front of her. “Honey, look who’s home!”

“Hi Mom,” you say, grinning when she whirls around, startled. The spatula, still dangling loosely from her hand, drips sauce onto the tiled floor, but she barely notices in her eagerness to give you a hug, throwing it down into one of the simmering pots and striding forward to wrap you up in a tight embrace.

“How was your trip?” she asks, pulling back and angling your face this way and that. “Did you sleep on the ride? Did Jimin drive safely?”

The last question draws a protesting whine from your brother, who has lugged your suitcase over the threshold and is now seated at the dining table, fiddling with a spoon. “My driving was fine, right Noona?” he says, his bottom lip jutting out into a pout.

“Yes, Chim,” you agree, laughing at the pleased expression that overtakes his face. Curiously, you walk over to the stove to inspect the food, your jaw dropping as you take in the assorted vegetables and meats. “Wow, Mom. Are you cooking for an army?”

“Jungkook is coming over for dinner,” she explains, following you over and plucking up the spatula again. “That boy has the biggest appetite I’ve ever seen—you remember, right?”

You laugh. “Of course I remember. He and Jimin were always stealing bites of my lunch at school.” Peering over at your brother, you fix him with a mock glare before walking over to the cutting board on the counter and sizing up the pile of onions and peppers sitting there. “It’ll be nice to see him again, though. How is he doing?”

To your surprise, a new voice answers your question—a voice that somehow manages to be simultaneously familiar and foreign. “Why don’t you ask me directly, Noona?” it says, and you whirl around, wide-eyed, to face the newcomer.

This can’t possibly be Jeon Jungkook, is your first thought upon seeing the young man standing in the kitchen doorway. The Jungkook you knew in high school was a scrawny kid—all gangly limbs and a nose that was too big for his face. The Jungkook you knew wore oversized white t-shirts that made him look even younger than he was, a look that was only enhanced by round wire-rimmed glasses that always gave him a look of permanent astonishment. The Jungkook you knew was nowhere near this tall, and definitely not this broad.

But this Jungkook—this Jungkook takes up nearly the entire doorframe with his bulk. Dark eyes stare at you from beneath equally dark hair, his gaze unhindered by his old glasses. A cobalt blue shirt stretches tight over his chest, and you swallow when you notice just how much the buttons are straining to contain the muscle underneath. Black jeans and simple black sneakers complete his outfit, and the entire look is so jarringly different from what you’re used to that you are left momentarily speechless, gaping like a fish out of water. Vaguely, you wonder when he got his ears pierced.

And then Jungkook—or at least, the young man claiming to be Jungkook—takes three steps forward, his entire face melting into a crinkly-eyed grin. You catch a glimpse of the adorably prominent front teeth that always made him look like a rabbit, and that’s all it takes to break the spell.

“Jungkookie!” you exclaim, darting forward to greet him. “It’s been so long!”

“Hi, Noona,” he replies, his grin widening at your approach. In an instant, he has you wrapped up in an embrace, easily lifting you off the floor in a display of strength that would’ve had a lesser woman swooning. His hands curl firmly around your waist, and you have no choice but to wrap yours around his nape, squeaking in protest when he spins you in a full circle.

“Kookie!” you gasp, wriggling helplessly in his grasp and huffing when he only cackles. “Put me down!”

Obediently, Jungkook lowers you back to the ground. His hands linger on your waist until he’s certain that both your feet are planted firmly, and it’s only then that he pulls back to get a good look at your face. “You know I’d never drop you, right?” he asks innocently.

“As if I can trust anything that comes out of your mouth,” you retort with a laugh. “I’ve seen you scam your way out of detention with those pretty doe eyes. Don’t try me, kid.”

Jungkook snorts. “Kid? I’m not that much younger than you. Plus I’m older than Jimin, y’know.”

“By a month!” your brother protests from the dining room, his blond head popping up from behind the vase of daisies serving as a centerpiece.

“Month and a half,” Jungkook stage-whispers to you, cupping a hand and bringing his mouth to your ear conspiratorially. His breath tickles your cheek, and you swat him away with a giggle that becomes a full-on laugh when Jimin lets out an offended cry and rises to his feet. Striding over, he pokes Jungkook squarely in the chest, his eyes narrowed.

“I invite you over to my house and this is the thanks I get?”

Your dad chooses that moment to interrupt from the living room. “Your house? When exactly did you start paying rent, Jimin?”

Jimin’s jaw drops. “Are you taking his side?” he asks in disbelief, glaring at Jungkook when he starts laughing. “I’m your son!”

“I’m your father,” your dad replies.

“And I’m your mother,” your mom pipes up, brandishing a spoon. “And I’m telling all of you to get your butts over to that dining table in the next ten seconds, or no dinner for any of you.”

Your dad, Jimin, and Jungkook immediately fall silent, cowed by her proclamation. Grinning, you join your mother at the counter, grabbing a handful of spoons and accepting the platter of kimchi she hands over. “Direct as always, Mom.”

She laughs and picks up a bowl of rice. “To deal with men like them? You have to be.”

Food in hand, you make your way into the dining room. The table is set, the steaming food arranged neatly in the center, and you watch as your mother takes her seat next to Jimin and leaves you to sit beside Jungkook on the opposite side. Your father beams from his spot at the head of the table, glancing at each of you in turn before turning and giving your shoulder an affectionate squeeze.

“Look at you kids, all sitting at the same table again.” He sighs, and you’re certain that he’s thinking back to the last time all of you were together—well over a year ago, at this point. “It’s a shame that your parents couldn’t join us, though, Jungkook.”

Jungkook nods. “Yeah, they told me to apologize on their behalf. They have tickets for the theatre tonight, and couldn’t get a refund on them.”

Your father laughs and waves the apology off. “I’m sure we’ll catch them next time,” he says. “Pretty hard to avoid each other when you live next door, isn’t it?”

“Definitely,” Jungkook agrees with a chuckle. Then he turns to you, the silver hoops in his ears glinting in the light from the overhead chandelier. “I’m sure they’ll drop by soon to see you, Noona. Mom wants to hear all about Seoul—I think she’s worried about sending me so far away by myself.”

“Junghyun stayed in Busan for university, didn’t he?” your mom asks.

Jungkook nods. “Yep, he still lives downtown and everything. He wanted to come over tonight, but his work wouldn’t let him take the time off.”

Your mom sighs. “That’s such a shame. Is he at least attending your graduation?”

“He’s driving in the day after tomorrow for the ceremony,” Jungkook confirms. Then he pauses, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. His gaze flickers down to the plate of sweet potatoes on the other side of the table, and before he can even open his mouth, your mother is already passing him the plate. He thanks her with an embarrassed chuckle but digs into the food nonetheless, and everyone else takes it as a sign to follow suit. You’re in the middle of scooping rice into your bowl when Jimin speaks up again.

“So what’s it like living in Seoul?” he asks, his cheeks bulging with pork belly. “You have roommates, right?”

“Suitemates,” you correct. “But yeah, I live with three other people. Namjoon, Hoseok, and Jennie are all great though, so it hasn’t been a problem.”

Jungkook pauses mid-chew to gape at you. “You live with guys?”

“My building’s co-ed,” you explain. “We all have separate bedrooms, but we share a common space and bathrooms.”

Your mother—on the lookout for any potential future grandchildren, as always—perks up. “Namjoon and Hoseok sound like nice boys. Are you friends?”

“Yes, Mom,” you sigh. “We’re friends. Just friends.” And then before she can ask about whether or not any other boys have caught your eye, you quickly turn back to your brother. “So, what’s your plan for next year? Are you and Jungkook living together?”

Jimin hums. “Yep, that’s the plan. Unless you want to live with us too, Noona.”

You laugh. “Why, so I can protect you from all the bullies like I did in elementary school?”

He flashes you a cheeky grin. “More like so I can protect you from all the weird college guys. Who’s this Hoseok guy anyway? Do I need to beat him up?”

“Please don’t beat up Hobi,” you entreaty, giggling when he pretends to crack his knuckles. “Or Joon!” you add quickly when he remains undeterred and makes to stand up from the table to defend your honor. Balling up your napkin, you throw it at him, and both of you burst into hysterics when your makeshift weapon bounces off his forehead and straight into his glass of water. The rest of dinner passes in a haze of similarly playful antics and happy chatter, and by the time the last bowl is scraped clean, it feels as if you’d never even left.

“I’ll do the dishes,” you volunteer, standing up and gathering up the empty platters. Jungkook and Jimin are quick to jump to your aid, collecting any utensils that you missed, and you offer them a grateful smile as they follow you into the kitchen.

“Let me do the washing, Noona.” Jungkook rolls up the sleeves of his cobalt blue shirt to expose a familiar silver watch glinting on his left wrist—a watch that his father handed down to him when he was sixteen, and that had been worn by his grandfather before him. You still remember the day he’d first worn it to school, proudly displaying it even though the band was too loose around his narrow wrist.

He’s grown into it now, you realize. The watch no longer flops around like it used to, and sits snugly in place instead. Your eyes trace the silver buckle on the inside of his wrist before trailing up to follow the network of thin, branching veins in his forearm, admiring the smooth flex of muscle as he grabs a sponge from the wire rack hanging above the sink and squirts some dish soap onto the surface.

“I’ll dry,” Jimin chirps, selecting a towel and brandishing it. “Noona, do you want to help me? We’ll finish faster that way.”

Nodding, you pull another towel out from the drawer and rejoin the two boys at the sink. Jungkook washes quickly and efficiently, and you determinedly avoid staring at the way water trickles along the patchwork veins on his hands as he gives you bowl after bowl to dry.

It doesn’t take long for all the dishes to be washed and dried. The three of you take the time to put them back into the proper cabinets before bidding your parents a good night, heading out onto the back porch. Falling back into old routines feels like second nature, so you plop down onto the steps without hesitation and grin when Jungkook takes a seat beside you.

“Wait, I almost forgot!” Jimin exclaims, bouncing up from where he was beginning to sit down next to Jungkook. “I bought some beer earlier and left it in the trunk. Be right back!”

You watch your brother run off, his floppy blond hair a stark contrast with the deep blue evening sky. In seconds, he’s disappeared around the corner of the house, leaving you and Jungkook alone on the porch steps.

“Chim really hasn’t changed one bit,” you remark with a laugh, turning toward your dark-haired companion.

Jungkook chuckles. “The kid loves his alcohol, that’s for sure.”

“Please.” You elbow him in the ribs. “I know you’re just as bad as he is.”

“Maybe,” he concedes with another chuckle. “But come on, Noona, you can’t tell me you don’t enjoy a drink every now and then. What about all that college stress?”

You hum, leaning back on your hands and staring up at the sky where the full moon is just beginning to rise, surrounded by a smattering of stars peeking through the velvety darkness of night. “I never said that I didn’t enjoy a drink, or five.” Jungkook laughs at your remark, and you smile before letting out a soft sigh. “I’m glad Jimin got the beer, though. Maybe I’ll finally be able to stop stressing out about my internship.”

That sobers Jungkook up immediately, his eyes widening as he peers down at you and lays a gentle hand on your back. “Are you still worried? You already got the job, didn’t you?”

You nod slowly, thinking back to the job offer that you had accepted at the end of the semester. It had been difficult finding a company in your desired field that offered internships to first-year students, but with dogged persistence and a lot of luck, you’d managed to snag a summer position. It isn’t due to start for another three weeks, however, and while you’re grateful for the chance to visit your family, part of you also wishes that you didn’t have to wait such a long time. “I just have no idea what to expect, you know? The only jobs I’ve ever had were in retail and food service, and that was all ages ago. I don’t feel ready at all.”

A strong arm settles across your shoulders, and you look up to see Jungkook gazing down at you with something indiscernible sparkling in his deep brown eyes. “You’re gonna be amazing,” he murmurs, his voice whisper-soft. “You know that, right? You always are. This won’t be any different.”

And you believe him. Every detail of his face is bathed in silvery moonlight—the gentle slope of his nose, the sharp angle of his jaw, the little scar high on his cheekbone—and you wonder how you never realized how handsome he is before now. And maybe it’s the low, soothing timbre of his voice, or maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you—with unspeakable tenderness and gentle affection glimmering in his irises—but you lean in before you can even realize what you’re doing. You don’t look away, and neither does he.

Jungkook’s gaze drops, trailing down the slope of your cheeks until it lands on the curve of your mouth. He hesitates for a split second, his throat bobbing harshly as he swallows and sucks in a breath.

And then his lips are pressing against yours—soft and tentative and just a little bit chapped. Your eyes flutter shut almost on instinct, your body relaxing as he shifts and pulls you a little more firmly against him. Slowly, his arm finds its way to the curve of your waist and settles there. Your fingers curl around his nape, carding through his silky hair.

It’s only when Jungkook’s tongue darts out to run along the seam of your lips that reality comes crashing back down, your stomach plummeting down to somewhere around your toes as you wrench away from his embrace. “Kookie!” you gasp, your breathing labored. “We can’t!”

Jungkook blinks, momentarily entrancing you with the way the stars reflect in his gaze like glittering diamonds. “Why not?” he asks, reaching out for you again. “You kissed me back, didn’t you?”

Squeaking, you bat his hands away. “Jungkook, no! We can’t! You’re Jimin’s best friend, and god, this is all kinds of weird, and—“

The dark-haired young man looks like he wants to protest more, but the sound of footsteps coming back around the house sends both of you scooting back to your original positions on the porch steps. Jimin appears two seconds later, plopping down beside Jungkook cheerfully and dropping a six-pack of beer at his feet.

“What’d I miss?” he asks, seemingly oblivious to the tension lingering in the air as he pops open a bottle and hands it to you.

“Nothing,” you say immediately, accepting the proffered beer. The cool glass bottle is a welcome relief, and you hurriedly take a long sip when your mind unwillingly begins to wander back to just how warm and soft your dark-haired companion’s lips had been.

Jungkook is much slower to respond to Jimin’s question. His shoulders slump as he reaches down to grab a drink of his own, twisting the cap open viciously and taking a swig. “Yeah,” he mutters, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Nothing at all.”

Luck must be on your side, because Jimin doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss as he grabs a beer for himself and flops backward, resting his weight on his elbows as he gazes up at the night sky. “It’s nice out,” he remarks, looking utterly at ease.

You are anything but. Beside you, Jungkook is sipping pensively on his beer, and you are painfully aware of the heat radiating off his body. Jimin is still chattering away, rambling about whatever pops into his head, and you take the opportunity to sneak a glance at Jungkook. His face is cast in silvery luminescence from the moon, his mouth pulled down into a deep, contemplative frown—and you are once again forced to shake off thoughts of how nice it felt to have his mouth pressed against yours.

This is Jeon Jungkook, you tell yourself sternly. Friend, neighbor, and Jimin’s best friend in the entire universe. You kissed him, sure, but it was a mistake. A moment of weakness. And it won’t happen again.

You repeat that over and over, silently reciting it in your head like a mantra, until, at last, you finally start to believe it.

///

You’re in the middle of brewing a fresh pot of coffee after a lazy morning spent sleeping in when you spot Jungkook outside through the kitchen window. He’s standing in the yard in a sleeveless white tee, wiping at his forehead with the back of his hand as he thoughtfully regards the row of hedges that serves as the property line between your house and the Jeons’ house next door. In his other hand is a shovel, and you can’t help the way your gaze automatically traces his exposed biceps, admiring the way they flex when he finally selects a spot and begins digging.

“Is the coffee done yet, Noona?”

Jimin’s voice yanks your attention away from your gardening neighbor, your vision overtaken by a mess of fluffy blond bedhead as he sneaks into the space between you and the counter and obnoxiously cuts you off from the pot of fresh brew. “Hey!” you protest, but Jimin just gives you a cheeky wink before grabbing a mug and pouring out a generous helping of piping hot coffee. After a moment’s thought, he pours you a mug as well, handing it over with an exaggerated bow.

You roll your eyes, but accept the warm cup nonetheless. Following him into the living room, you make yourself comfortable on the couch as he flops down onto the carpeted floor and turns on the television. Idly, he begins flipping through the channels in search for something to watch, and you endure random snippets of the morning news, a cheesy soap opera, and a series of infomercials before sighing and rising to your feet again. “I’m getting some food. Want some toast, Chimchim?”

“Mmm. Sure.”

Slowly, you meander your way back into the kitchen. Your mother is standing at the counter stirring sugar into her coffee, and you smile as you walk up to join her. “Morning, Mom.”

“Good morning, sweetie,” she says, taking a careful sip of her drink. “Did you sleep well?”

“Like a log,” you reply with a grin. Grabbing the loaf of bread off the counter, you pull out a few slices and shove them in the toaster. “Do you want toast? I’m making some for me and Chimchim.”

“Just one slice for me,” she says, opening up the dish cabinet and pulling out three plates. Obligingly, you hand her one of the two freshly toasted slices and drop the other onto your plate. Popping some more bread into the toaster, you’re just about to grab the jam from the fridge when there’s a knock on the door.

“I’ll get it!” Jimin yells from the living room. You hear the soft pad of his footsteps in the hallway and the low creak of the front door as it swings open—and then your brother is snorting out a laugh at whoever is on your doorstep. “Dude, why are you covered in dirt?”

You’re beginning to have a sneaking suspicion as to who your guest is, and it’s confirmed when your brother’s question is answered.

“I’m helping Mom plant some hydrangeas out back,” Jungkook’s voice explains, his tall figure stepping into view a moment later. “Can you come help me lift the bushes?”

Jimin rolls his eyes. “You could’ve just texted me.”

“Who knows if you would’ve answered?” Jungkook asks, laughing. “Knowing you, you’d just leave me on read. Besides—” and here he glances over at you, dark eyes glimmering with an emotion that you can’t quite pinpoint, “—I wouldn’t get to see two of my favorite ladies if I didn’t stop by.”

Jimin pretends to vomit at the line, but your mother laughs delightedly as Jungkook takes another step into the foyer and flashes her a winning grin. “Good morning, Jungkookie,” she greets him. “Have you eaten breakfast yet? {Name} was just making some toast, and we’ve got fresh coffee.”

Jungkook’s gaze slides over to you again, taking in the flannel pajama pants and oversized t-shirt you’re wearing. “Thanks, Mrs. Park,” he says, though his eyes never leave yours. “I ate already, but coffee sounds wonderful.”

You are beginning to feel increasingly vulnerable as Jungkook continues looking unblinkingly in your direction. Thankfully, your mom pipes up, drawing his attention away with a decisive clap of her hands. “Coffee it is, then!” she says brightly. “{Name}, why don’t you grab Jungkook a cup?”

Hurriedly, you turn toward the cabinets, trying your best to ignore Jungkook as he chats comfortably with your family. Your success is limited though, and you can feel his penetrating stare lingering on your back even as you fetch a mug and fill it up to the brim.

“Noona.” Jungkook’s voice comes from behind you, much closer than you remember him being. “Can I have some cream and sugar, please?”

Somehow, you manage to reply without stammering. “Yeah. Sure.” Dumping some of the excess coffee into the sink, you spoon in some sugar and give it a quick stir. Just as you turn toward the refrigerator for the cream, a strong arm cuts you off.

“I got it, Noona,” Jungkook murmurs, backing you up against the counter as he tucks the little white carton into your outstretched hand. His proximity has your heart skipping several beats, and you almost drop the carton entirely when he speaks again in a husky whisper, his mouth at the shell of your ear. “Just a little bit, please.”

You are acutely aware of the heat radiating off of his body, warming your back and flushing your cheeks. Quietly, you open up the carton and pour a splash of cream into his mug, the swirl of white melding with the dark liquid within. “Is—is that enough?”

Jungkook reaches around you to open up the silverware drawer, grabbing a spoon and giving the coffee a stir. “That’s perfect,” he purrs, his hot breath stirring gooseflesh on the back of your neck.

This close to him, it’s easy to forget where you are and who you’re with, but you somehow manage to regain enough of your senses to wrench away and reclaim your personal space. “G-great,” you stammer, picking up the mug and shoving it into his hands, determinedly ignoring the ripple of his arm muscles as he accepts. “Um. Chim. Did you want your toast?”

“Yes, please,” Jimin says, barely glancing up from where he’s made himself comfortable at the kitchen island, idly playing on his phone.

Your mother pokes her head around the doorframe of the adjoining laundry room, where she has clearly started a fresh load if the sound of splashing water is anything to go by. “Don’t make your sister do all of the work, Jimin. Go help her—it’s your food, isn’t it?”

Obligingly, Jimin hops off the stool and grabs his favorite jar of jam, joining you at the counter. He takes the slice of toast you offer him, slathering it messily and taking an enormous bite. “Thanks for breakfast, Noona,” he says, blowing you an exaggerated kiss. “Ready, Kook?”

Jungkook raises his mug of coffee in acknowledgement. “Ready.” Then his gaze flickers back to you, twinkling with silent mirth. “And Noona—thanks. The coffee’s delicious.”

You can’t find the words to answer. Silently, you watch him disappear out the front door with Jimin, following his dark head of hair as it bobs across the yard. His biceps flex as he gestures for Jimin to help him lift a hydrangea bush, and your eyes linger on the stretch of defined muscle, tracing the network of prominent veins running along his forearm before your brain can caution you to stop. It’s almost as if you’re on autopilot, and by the time you zone back in, your gaze has wandered too far south for your liking. Letting out an audible groan, you tear your eyes away from the mouthwatering view of his thick thighs and return to your now-cold breakfast. And you don’t think about Jeon Jungkook again, pushing the image of his broad shoulders and handsome face into the darkest recesses of your mind.

Or at least, that was the plan. Jimin comes back inside after about an hour, tracking mud through half the house before your mother reprimands him and orders him to take off his shoes. Jungkook, thankfully, chose to return to his own home as well, and you immediately banish the thought of him showering off all the sweat and grime that has no doubt accumulated on his toned body. You shove away the mental image of water slicking his golden skin and collecting in the hollows of his collarbones, and when your mind conjures up pictures of what lies south of his waist, you resist the urge to scream into the pile of freshly laundered pillowcases your mom presses into your arms.

You’re just about to head upstairs to scream into a real pillow when there’s another knock on your front door—a familiar cadence that you heard just this morning. And that’s when you realize—to your complete and utter dismay—that Jeon Jungkook isn’t done tormenting you yet. Not by a long shot.

“You again? You do realize that this isn’t your house, right?” you ask, swinging open the door and thanking whatever gods may be out there that your voice remains steady. Then you raise a brow, glancing down at his change in attire. “Wait, why are you wearing a suit?”

Jungkook gives you an infuriatingly impish grin. “Do I need a reason?” His hair is still damp from the shower, a stray lock flopping down across his forehead, and as you watch him brush it away absently, you notice that he’s holding something in his free hand.

“What’s that?” you ask curiously.

Footsteps sound from behind you, interrupting before he can answer. “Jungkookie?” your mother asks, appearing at the foot of the stairs. “I thought I heard your voice. Are you here for Jimin again?”

Jungkook flashes her a winning smile and raises the garment bag he’s holding. “No, I was actually hoping to get some advice. I’ve got my suit ready to go for graduation tomorrow, but I can’t decide which shirt looks better. My mom likes how I look in blue, but I wanted a second opinion from you and Noona.”

To your utter annoyance, your mother coos and gestures for him to come in. He’s already wearing the blue shirt—a pale periwinkle one that reminds you of a cloudless day—but your mom takes the garment bag out of his hand and unzips it to look inside. “What are your options?” she asks.

“Blue, red, and yellow,” Jungkook replies, pulling each shirt off its hanger and holding them up to his chest in turn. “What do you think, Mrs. Park?”

“The blue is lovely,” your mom says thoughtfully, straightening his collar. “But this shade of yellow looks nice too. A handsome young man like you—you really can’t go wrong with any of these.”

Jungkook grins and scratches behind his ear, trying to hide his embarrassment. “Thanks, Mrs. Park.”

The dryer chooses that moment to beep shrilly, signalling the end of its cycle, and your mother darts off to tend to it, leaving you and Jungkook alone in the living room.

“What about you, Noona?” Jungkook asks, just as you’re about to try and sneak out under the pretense of helping with the laundry. “Which shirt do you like?”

“Does it matter?” you ask. “It’s just going to be hidden underneath those horrible black trash bags they make you wear.”

He laughs. “Sure, but what about before and after? You know my mom’s going to want to take a million pictures.”

“Can’t argue there.” Resigning yourself to your fate, you put your stack of clean pillowcases down on the arm of the couch and cross your arms over your chest. “Show them to me again?”

Jungkook raises the yellow shirt, holding it up for a few seconds before swapping it out for the red. “Well?”

You pause to consider it. “Red,” you decide after some deliberation, pointing at your choice. It’s a deep crimson color—almost burgundy—and you rub the silky material between your fingertips before taking it and replacing it onto its hanger. Jungkook joins you with the yellow shirt, his arm bumping into yours as you both reach for the garment bag, and even though you flinch away from the contact, Jungkook doesn’t let you stray very far. A strong hand clamps down around your forearm, and you inhale sharply when he backs you up against the wall and cages you in with his solid body.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Jungkook looks thoroughly unfazed as he blinks a few loose strands of hair out of his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“Jungkook—” you hiss, struggling to see over his shoulder if your mother has returned. “Get off me.”

“Come on, Noona,” Jungkook murmurs. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me. Ever since you got back—ever since we kissed—”

“A mistake,” you say, cutting him off with a finger to the lips and glancing around furtively to make sure no one is eavesdropping. “That was a mistake.”

Jungkook raises an eyebrow. “Was it? Because I really wanted to kiss you, and I’m pretty sure you wanted to kiss me too. You kissed back, didn’t you?”

“Y-you—“ You clear your throat and try again, cringing at how shaky your voice comes out. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But Jungkook simply laughs. “Don’t I?” He inches closer until you’re chest to chest, his gaze darkening as it flickers downward and lands on your mouth. Your heartbeat quickens, thudding erratically in your ribcage. It would be so easy to push to your tiptoes and close the distance between your lips.

“God,” you huff. “You’re so—”

His other eyebrow rises to join the first. “I’m so—?” he presses, tilting his head as he awaits your answer. The loose lock of hair flops across his forehead again, and this time you cannot stop yourself from reaching up to brush it away.

“Shut up,” you hiss as your fingers drop down to wind into the soft hair at his nape. “Just shut up.”

And then you’re kissing him—really, really kissing him—pulling him down to your level and sliding your free hand up his infuriatingly toned chest.

“See?” Jungkook’s lips curl up into a smug smirk as he pulls away slightly, his warm breath fanning across your cheeks with every word. “I knew you were into me.”

“God, do you ever stop talking?” you retort, pushing him back until you have enough room to switch your positions and maneuver him against the wall.

Jungkook lets you pin him in place, blinking down at you lazily with his mouth still stretched into that maddening little smirk. “Only if you make me, Noona.” His hands slide down your sides, coming to a stop at your hips in an ironclad grip. “Only if you kiss me like that again.”

So you do. Your fingers tighten in his hair as you crush your mouth to his, and when his lips part you slip your tongue inside. Jungkook—still smirking—relaxes and lets you take control of the kiss, but his hands continue to wander. Before you know it, he’s already snuck underneath the hem of your shirt, rubbing warm circles into the soft skin of your waist. His lips move languidly against yours, his tongue careful and gentle in its exploration of your mouth, and you sigh when he tugs you closer. You’re pressed flush against him by this point, pinning him between your body and the wall, and neither you nor he have any intent to move anytime soon.

The sudden slamming of a door jerks you back to reality. Here you are, standing in the living room where anyone could walk by and see you kissing your brother’s best friend—again. Shakily, you pull away from Jungkook with your heart in your throat, putting as much space as you possibly can between your bodies. “Fuck,” you mutter. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. We can’t do this.”

Jungkook’s chest is heaving, his lips swollen and red. “{Name}—” he tries, but you shake your head and cut him off before he can continue.

“You need to leave,” you whisper.

“But—”

“Please,” you say, your heart hammering wildly in your chest. “Please, Jungkook. Just leave.”

Jungkook swallows, hard. And then, much to your relief, he picks up his garment bag, shoving both shirts back inside. “Okay,” he rasps. “I’ll go.”

Elsewhere in the house, you can hear your mother calling for Jimin. Your father is watching TV in his study—you can hear the low hum of voices and a laugh track. Your entire family is here.

And yet, you’ve never felt more alone as you watch Jungkook stride down the hallway and disappear out the front door.

///

Returning to your high school is odd. The hallways and classrooms are familiar, but they all seem smaller than you remember. And were the ceilings always this short? You aren’t sure. What you are sure of, however, is that Jungkook and his family are currently headed your way, with beaming smiles on their faces and colorful flower bouquets in hand. Greetings and congratulations are exchanged, and it isn’t long before you are face-to-face with Jungkook himself, a tight smile on his face as he meets your eyes.

“Hi, Noona.”

“Hi,” you reply. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks.”

Now that the graduation ceremony is over, he’s taken off his robe to reveal the red shirt underneath. The silky material drapes over his torso and clings to the toned planes of his chest, and your fingers itch to run across the defined muscle. Swallowing down the urge, you instead gesture toward his parents, who are engaged in deep conversation with your own parents while Jimin chats with Junghyun off to the side. “I guess we’re all getting dinner after this, huh?”

He nods. “Yeah, at that one place downtow—“

“Jungkook! Jimin!” A feminine voice interrupts him mid-sentence, and you watch in surprise as both your brother and Jungkook are suddenly engulfed in a massive tangle of limbs. Immediately, you recognize Jisoo and Lisa—two girls you considered casual friends from your own high school days. The third girl in the trio of friends—Chaeyoung—is noticeably absent, but you don’t get a chance to question her whereabouts. “Can you believe it? We’re graduates!” Lisa is saying excitedly, still clutching tightly onto Jungkook’s shoulders. She’s pressed flush against him, her chest molded to his, and the sudden rush of jealousy that takes root in the pit of your stomach takes you aback with its ferocity.

Calm the fuck down, you instruct your pounding heart. Stop it, right now.

“Has Tae told you about the party tomorrow night?” Jisoo asks, breaking you out of your thoughts. “You guys better be there—and that means you, too, {Name}! It’s been forever since we’ve seen you!”

You clear your throat and attempt to smile. “Yeah, it’s been way too long. It’ll be nice to finally catch up.” Unwillingly, your gaze flickers back over to Jungkook and Lisa, doing your best to maintain a neutral expression when you notice the casual way his arm drapes over her shoulders.

Your attempts are in vain. Jungkook notices your stare immediately, a massive shit-eating grin spreading across his face. One eyebrow rises in a silent taunt, and you swear his grip around her tightens. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you instead turn back to Jisoo, finally voicing the question that’s on your mind.

“So, where’s Chaeyoung? I saw her during the ceremony, but haven’t seen her around since. She didn’t leave already, did she?”

“No, she’s still here,” Jisoo answers, exchanging a look with Lisa. Curiosity piqued, you watch her gaze dart over to Jungkook for a split second before returning to you, a tiny smile gracing her face once more. “She’s with her family right now, but she’ll be at the party tomorrow.”

“I’ll congratulate her there, then,” you say, returning her smile with one of her own. Silently, you wonder at the uneasy glance the two girls had exchanged, but decide not to press it, chalking it up to some senior year drama that isn’t any of your business.

“Well, we should probably get going,” Jisoo says after another beat. “We’re off to dinner.”

“We should be on our way too,” you agree, glancing over at where your parents are still chatting, having absorbed Junghyun into their conversation at some point. Bidding the two girls goodbye, you sidle over to join them, trying your best to subtly nudge your parents toward the door.

After what feels like an eternity, your parents finally decide that they’re ready for a change in scenery. The drive to the restaurant is blessedly short, much to the relief of your grumbling stomach, and you are more than grateful for the brief reprieve from Jungkook and his knowing smirk. It doesn’t last long, however, and you mentally brace yourself when you spot the Jeons’ car in the parking lot of the restaurant. Upon entering, you are quickly ushered to your reserved table where the Jeons are already waiting, and somehow in the shuffle you end up right between Jungkook and Junghyun, the former’s face dissolving into a satisfied grin as he watches you sit down.

Then he turns to Jimin, who’s seated on his other side. “Hey, man.”

You bristle at the blatant way he’s ignoring you. But two can play at that game, so you turn to Junghyun with a winning smile, laying a hand on his shoulder for good measure. The older Jeon brother is four years your senior, but despite the age difference, you’ve always gotten along well.

“Junghyun, I haven’t seen you in ages! How have you been?”

The elder Jeon grins and leans in to give you a hug. “Good, good—work’s insane, but that’s old news. What about you? How’s school going so far?”

You can feel Jungkook’s gaze on you, hot and heavy. The hairs on the back of your neck prickle under the weight of it, and you resist the urge to shiver. Instead, you give Junghyun’s bicep a final squeeze before pulling away, steadfastly ignoring the way Jungkook lets out a disgruntled hiss from between his teeth.

“School is good,” you tell Junghyun. “I’m trying to get all my general requirements out of the way early, so my first semester wasn’t very interesting. I took some more focused classes in the second, though, which made things infinitely better.”

The elder Jeon laughs. “Guess that means you’re on the right track then, huh?”

“Guess so,” you reply, laughing right along with him.

The server stops by to take drink orders, and your parents take it upon themselves to order food for the table as well. You continue chatting amicably with Junghyun as the server returns with a tray of water, sodas, and soju; beside you, Jungkook does the same with Jimin. The only break in conversation comes when the server—a pretty girl with a chirpy voice and a nametag that reads ‘Mina’—leans over to set a glass of Coke down in front of Jungkook. He thanks her with a crooked smirk and a low purr of gratitude that has her cheeks flushing pink, and it’s all you can do not to gape at him like a fish. The flirtatious quirk of his lips, the seductive tone—it all comes far too naturally to him, and you wonder for a moment just where the old Jungkook has gone. The Jungkook you used to know stammered every time he had to talk to an unfamiliar girl, and had trouble looking even you in the eye despite having known you since grade school.

But now, he’s nowhere to be found. The young man sitting beside you remains as calm as can be, shifting his body toward Mina so that he can request a straw.

“Of course, here you go!” Mina’s gaze lingers on his hand as he accepts the proffered straw, eyes widening when his fingers brush against hers lightly.

“Fast service,” Jungkook remarks, his voice dipping into a low, indolent drawl. “I like that.”

Mina giggles and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She’s clearly about to respond to him—flirt right back, undoubtedly—but your father stands up and taps his glass with a spoon before she can open her mouth. “I want to make a toast,” he says, and you send him a silent, heartfelt thank you when Mina wisely chooses to make herself scarce. “Congratulations to Jungkook and Jimin, our two rad grads!”

An audible groan rises up from your side of the table, where Jimin has buried his face in his hands. “Oh my god, Dad.”

“What?” your father asks innocently. “I really think you’re rad, grad!”

Jimin groans again, muffled by the sleeves of his jacket. “I want the earth to swallow me whole.”

Laughter all around. More toasts are given, and the bottles of soju scattered around the table slowly dwindle down to their last dregs. Junghyun picks up the one closest to him and fills up your glass for the fourth time, drawing a protesting whine from your lips as you try to cut him off. “Wait, that’s not fair! Pour some for yourself too!”

“Relax, we can always order more,” Junghyun says with a laugh, topping off your glass before glancing around to find Mina. Much to your irritation, she’s already headed your way, bearing loaded platters of meat and vegetables and wearing a bright smile that seems to only be directed to Jungkook.

“I hope you’re all hungry!” she chirps, coming to a stop between you and the subject of her affections. You swear she shoots you a dirty look over her shoulder before turning back to the table, her cheerful facade back in place as she smiles at Jungkook. “Where did you want me to put the meat?”

“Anywhere it’ll fit,” Jungkook tells her with a suggestive smirk, keeping his voice soft enough so that only you and she can hear.

Mina cannot hide her answering smile. Likewise, you cannot hide the way your nostrils flare, throat bobbing as you swallow down the ugly feelings bubbling up in your chest. You can feel Jungkook’s gaze roving across your skin, but you refuse to look at him, stubbornly facing the front as Mina distributes food around the table. As soon as she’s departed again—her fingers brushing across the back of Jungkook’s chair in the process—you’re up and out of your seat, heart beating faster than you’d like to admit.

“Restroom,” you say shortly by way of explanation. It’s thankfully empty when you arrive, and you immediately make a beeline toward the sink to splash some cold water on your cheeks.

It’s absurd—this snaking jealousy coiling in your belly and winding up between the slats of your ribcage. Straightening up, you give your reflection in the mirror a stern look, silently willing the feelings in your chest to abate. Gradually, your heartbeat slows into a regular rhythm, your cheeks cooling, and after waiting another two minutes, you decide that it’s been long enough. Drying off your hands, you exit the restroom and wind your way back to the table, keeping your pace leisurely even when Jungkook looks up and catches your eye. His expression is unreadable, and you valiantly ignore his burning gaze as you take a seat.

“How is everything?” you ask Junghyun, picking up a spoon and piling your plate with food from the nearest platter.

Junghyun pauses mid-bite to answer. His mouth opens, but you don’t catch his answer because there is a sudden, heavy weight on your knee. A warm palm caresses the skin exposed by the hem of your dress, slow and sensual and deliberate. Your eyes widen and your lips part, but no sound escapes. The rest of the table’s occupants fade away into the background, conversations and laughter dulling into a low drone. Beside you, Junghyun is still talking, but all you can hear is blood rushing through your ears.

And on your other side, Jungkook is smirking.

The bastard.

Gentle fingertips skim along your skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake. Your entire body stiffens, but Jungkook refuses to relent. He’s still chatting with Jimin, chuckling at a joke you didn’t hear, and you wonder how he can remain so calm when you are anything but. Your heart takes off in a sprint, clattering wildly against your ribcage, and for a few moments you are absolutely positive that everyone at the table can hear. Any moment, one of your parents will look over and see how wide your eyes are and how warm your cheeks feel. Any moment, Jimin will look down and see his best friend’s arm snaking beneath the table and realize what’s happening.

And then Jungkook squeezes your thigh, and all thought flies out of your head, dissipating like fog in the sunlight. He’s growing increasingly bold, his fingers trailing up until he can trace the hem of your dress, teasing at the soft material. Your breath hitches in your throat, and Jungkook’s smirk widens. You can see him out of the corner of your eye, trying to hide his smugness behind his soju glass, and for a moment you’re tempted to throw his drink in his face.

But more than that—more than anything else right now—you want him to continue touching you.

He’s sliding beneath your dress now, inching down to the delicate skin of your inner thigh and tracing nonsensical patterns there. You grip the edge of the table as he trails closer and closer to the lace of your panties, knuckles turning white against the dark wood. It’s a wonder no one has noticed your flustered state yet, and you cast concerned glances at Junghyun and Jimin before Jungkook notices your inattention. Punishingly, he slides a single finger into your panties, snapping the lace against your skin and covering the sound with a cough that he buries in his elbow. He can’t hide the way you jolt in your seat though, your knee thudding against the table. Junghyun gives you a worried look, laying a hand on your shoulder as he asks if you’re okay, and you hurriedly nod. And underneath the table, Jungkook resumes his ministrations, languorous and soft and deliberately avoiding the place you need him most, as if he has all the time in the world.

There’s a growing damp spot between your legs. You can feel it seeping through the cottony material of your panties, sticking uncomfortably to your folds. Jungkook’s touch is whisper-soft, caressing along your thigh until your skin is tingling, and it’s all you can do to swallow down the whimper that’s bubbling up in your throat. He’s thoroughly enjoying this—you can tell—and you’re certain he can feel the way you tense up when he suddenly drags a single finger up your clothed slit. A low hiss escapes your parted lips, and in an instant, all eyes are on you.

“Noona?” Jimin asks curiously. “Something wrong?”

“I—” Your mind whirs, searching for an excuse. “It’s nothing. I’m fine. The, uh, sauce was just spicier than I was expecting it to be.”

You haven’t touched a single thing on your plate in minutes, but no one seems to notice your obvious lie. Conversation resumes, and you determinedly pick up your spoon again, intent on getting something more substantial in your belly than the fluttering butterflies that have taken up residence there.

“You sure you want to eat that, Noona?” Jungkook’s voice reaches your ears—a low, dulcet purr that sends electricity shooting down your spine. “You should probably drink some water to cool down.”

And before you can answer—before you even manage to reach for your water glass—he’s slipped his hand into your panties, the warm pad of his thumb pressing experimentally against your clit. The slight pressure has you gasping, your heart pounding hard enough to leap out of your chest as you drop your spoon. Your hands drop down to your lap—one gripping the edge of your chair while the other finds its way around Jungkook’s wrist, and you aren’t sure whether you’re trying to stop him or spur him on. His arm muscles flex underneath your fingertips, and that’s all the warning you get before he angles his hand, a lone finger sinking inside your drenched entrance.

“Oh, fuck.” You can’t stop the strangled curse that escapes your lips, an airy hiss from behind clenched teeth. Your grip on Jungkook’s wrist tightens, but it doesn’t seem to dissuade him at all as he begins a leisurely pace, sinking deeper into your cunt with each thrust.

Luckily, no one hears your whimper. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you bite back the sounds threatening to spill out and instead focus on maintaining as neutral an expression as you can muster. Beneath the table, Jungkook remains relentless. Even when your mother looks over and addresses him directly, he doesn’t cease his ministrations, keeping both his tone and his pace even as he responds.

“Jungkookie, you’ve barely touched your pork belly. Are you full already?”

“Stuffed,” Jungkook replies smoothly. He punctuates the word by adding a second finger, and you almost bang your knee on the table again, your eyes going wide at his audacity.

Your mother pushes the platter of meat closer to him anyway. “No need to be polite, honey. Here, eat up.”

Obligingly, Jungkook picks out a few pieces with his free hand and piles them on his plate. “Thanks, Mrs. Park,” he says as he brings some to his mouth. “It’s delicious.”

Satisfied, your mother turns her attention elsewhere. Jungkook returns his to you, and you almost groan aloud when his thumb brushes against your clit again, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive bud before he sheathes both fingers inside you once more. There’s a growing heat coiling in the pit of your stomach by this point, lighting every single one of your nerves on fire. Your body is screaming for release, and Jungkook seems more than eager to give it to you. He’s freed his wrist from your grip, leaving you to clutch helplessly at the table as he angles his fingers upward. No doubt he’s searching for the spot that will have you seeing stars, and you know he’s found it when a sudden burst of pleasure spikes through you. Your mouth falls lax, and Jungkook grins, thoroughly satisfied.

There’s something building inside you, something that has your tummy tensing and your toes curling in your shoes. Jungkook’s fingers dig deep, his palm rubbing against your clit with every thrust, and it takes every remaining ounce of your self-control to resist the urge to rock your hips into his hand. A bit more of that delicious friction, and you’ll be falling over the edge. You know it, and so does Jungkook if the smirk on his face is anything to go by.

And then a voice is pulling you back to reality, a warm hand settling on your shoulder. You flinch at the contact, your startled gaze flying up to Junghyun’s, and balk when you see him staring at you with equal parts amusement and concern.

“I—what?” you stammer. “Did… did you say something?”

Beneath the table, you feel Jungkook’s fingers retreat, leaving you empty and aching for release. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook wipe his glistening hand on his napkin, a frown that can only be described as petulant settling onto his face.

“Whoa, relax!” Junghyun drags your attention back to him, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I just wanted to say goodbye. I have to be up early for work tomorrow, so I’m driving back into the city tonight.”

“Oh!” It takes you a few seconds to process his words. “Right, yeah. Have a safe drive back. It was good to see you.”

“Ditto,” he replies, flashing you a warm grin. “But hey, are you all right? You’ve been a little weird the whole night. Was it the food?”

Gratefully, you seize upon the excuse. “Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine. I think maybe something isn’t sitting quite right in my stomach, but I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about it.”

He nods and leans in for a hug. “Take care of yourself, yeah?”

“You too. Bye, Junghyun.”

With the elder Jeon brother’s departure, everyone else quickly decides that it’s time to disperse as well. You adamantly refuse to look in Jungkook’s direction as your parents fight over the bill, focusing your goodbyes on Mr. and Mrs. Jeon even when he glances your way with a knowing little smirk and a soft murmur of, “Bye, Noona.”

You can’t look at him. Not when every movement reminds you just how damp your panties are, your core begging for relief. Not when he’s waggling his fingers in farewell—the gesture anything but innocent. “Bye,” you warble weakly, before fleeing to the car.

The memory of his fingers burns fresh in your mind later that night as you lie in bed, your hand stuffed down your panties and working furiously to find that sweet, sweet relief.

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