#[ all these asks become a wall of text f <3 ]

[onlyhuis]

love thy neighbor

member — fwb! neighbor!joshua x f reader genre — smut, light angst, college au, idiots to lovers, happy ending word count — 5.1k synopsis — there's perks to having your fwb live next door to you, but there's also downsides. like the fact that it's really hard to hide that you're in love with him. warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, one mention of periods, masturbation (both reader & joshua), the smut is REALLY quick, premature ejaculation sort of, a little bit of body worship, nicknames (baby, good girl), not really described but implied creampie, they are idiots and they are in love and it's gross and sweet notes — tysm to @wongyuseokie & @onlymingyus for help choosing the banner <3 and thanks to @petrichor-han for this idea !! fun fact this was originally going to be for skz han but i figured it would also make a great shua fic so i chose him instead. fun fact #2 i am addicted to giving shua's fics religious titles even when there's no mention of religion in the fic at all lmao. it gives me a giggle like how could i not when it fits so well?? also this is one of my few attempts at angst so if you liked this please reblog or send and ask and lmk how you liked it! hope you enjoy!!

joshua should be asleep right now. 

really, he should. it’s 11pm on a sunday night and he’s got his chemistry lab at 8am tomorrow, and he’s still got a couple of assignments that he really needs to catch up on before the final next week. 

but then there's that bump against the wall that he’s grown so accustomed to, and his eyes fly open.

maybe becoming fuck buddies with your next-door neighbor isn't the smartest idea he's ever had, because this is the fourth time this week he's had to hear your moans as he tries to fall asleep.

the walls are thin, but he's certain that you must not realize just how thin they are, because he can hear every sound you make as clear as day. every whimper, every buzz of your vibrator, even every moan of his name, barely muffled by the wall separating his room from yours. especially every moan of his name. and it’s been driving him insane.

really, it’s his own fault for trying to be a polite neighbor. he almost wishes that he hadn’t run into you when you’d moved into the apartment next door at the beginning of the semester, because then he probably wouldn’t have recognized you at that party during homecoming weekend and got to talking with you. 

and because of that he probably wouldn’t have taken you home from said party and given you the best dicking down of your life (your words, not his), and then after that you probably wouldn’t have decided that you wanted to keep fucking him and agreed to become friends with benefits.

except he doesn’t actually wish that at all.

having your situationship live right next door is pretty convenient, after all. you’ll shoot him an “omw” text and be waiting at his front door seconds later. he forgot to bring condoms? it’ll just take a sec to run home and grab some. when you accidentally leave your panties in his apartment, he can drop them off the same day and then forget about it (he definitely won’t). 

he could probably even just bang on his side of the wall and you’d know to come over, but to him that’s a little too far, too impolite. he at least has the decency to send a text first.

a part of him wonders if that’s why you’re so noisy at night, if you’re doing it on purpose and knowing he’ll hear it, secretly hoping for him to come knocking at your door. but he doesn’t want to assume, doesn’t want to show up without asking and realize he’s been completely wrong this whole time and make himself look like a fool.

so he settles for earplugs instead. because there’s no way he can sit there and listen to the sounds you make and not start thinking about all the times he’s been in your bed with you just inches away. and by the time he’s cum all over his fist and he’s finally worn himself out enough to fall asleep, it’s 4am and he has class in the morning and he’s wasted an entire night yet again.

he’s been inside your apartment dozens of times, enough to know the layout by heart. enough to know that your bedroom sits directly next to his, enough to know that your bed is pushed against that very thin wall the same way his is and that your nightstand with the drawer full of toys is right next to the bed.

oh, he’s gotten to know more than just your apartment over the course of the semester. he knows which positions are your favorite (you’ve never told him outright, but you always cum harder when he fucks you in missionary). he knows the names you like to be called and the ones you like to call him. he can even tell which vibrator you’re using right now (the red one doesn’t buzz as loud, so you only use it when your favorite purple one is dead. tonight you’re using the purple one.)

but he’s also gotten to know the way you smile when you see a cat video, the way your forehead wrinkles when you talk about your calculus professor, and the way you like your pancakes in the morning (though he’s never been able to make them for you himself, he swears one day he will. one slice of butter, a ton of syrup, and a handful of cut up strawberries.)

so maybe that’s what makes these nights so unbearable. he can keep lying to himself that it doesn’t bother him, that it wouldn’t bother him as much as it does if he just… didn’t like you. 

but, unfortunately, he does like you. and he’s stuck with this problem until he finds a way to fix it, but just like in the lab analyses he has to write every week, he’s got no ideas. so he’ll have to settle for fucking his hand and biting his pillow so you don’t get suspicious of the noises he’s making, and hope that his silly little crush goes away on its own. 

after all, he isn’t anything to you. albeit a sexual one, he’s still just a friend. and he’s certain that’s all you want.

god, you wish that joshua could see you right now. you’re certain he’d love it.

earlier tonight you’d had to physically force yourself to turn your phone off so that you wouldn’t be tempted to text him to come over. you’d already texted him on monday night and thursday afternoon, and you’d knocked on his door on saturday at practically the crack of dawn because you’d woken up thinking about him.

were you embarrassed about it? absolutely, but that wasn’t enough to stop you. okay, maybe sometimes it was, because the girl who lived across the hall had caught you (on multiple occasions) sneaking out of joshua’s apartment twice in one day and you refused to meet him again for nearly a week after that.

but joshua didn’t seem one bit embarrassed by your arrangement. he always gave you a friendly smile and offered to walk you to your door afterwards, which you always declined, and he always made sure to say he looked forward to seeing you again. you even saw him wave at the nosy neighbor girl when he’d left your apartment once (which you only remembered because you’d spent the rest of the night in tears about it, but not that you were jealous about it or anything).

you felt bad enough meeting up with him so often, but you felt even worse that you didn’t even have a label to show for it. you knew it was probably exactly what he’d wanted out of this, just somebody to call for a quick fuck, but it made you mad. it was why you got so angry about the girl across the hall; because you knew everybody loved joshua, so of course he couldn’t love only you. 

he was hot and he was in a frat and he probably had a hundred girls he could call if he wanted to. with how often you text him to fuck, plus the other people he’s probably seeing? he’s gotta be exhausted.

which is why most nights you opt for touching yourself instead. in the months since you first met joshua, your vibrators have been going through batteries a lot faster than usual, a fact you’re not exactly proud of but will own up to nonetheless.

it’s not your fault that the image of him leaning over you, his thin gold chain dangling in your face as he fucks you is burned into your head practically 24 hours of the day. or the fact that his voice plays on repeat in your brain, specifically that one time he called you “baby” and you came so hard you nearly passed out. 

so really, it’s actually his fault that he’s constantly on your mind. his fault for being sexy… or your fault for falling for him?

either way, you find yourself yet again with your pussy stuffed full of your own fingers and your favorite purple vibrator on your clit (you remembered to charge it last night, after you came to the thought of joshua fucking you on your kitchen counter), wishing he could be there to see it.

you close your eyes and picture him in front of you, holding the vibrator against your clit as he grins down at you. such a good girl, he’d say, brushing his thumb over your nipple with his free hand. you love this, don’t you?

“fuck, yes, joshua,” you reply, gasping as you push your fingers deeper inside. you arch off the bed a little, pushing your head back against your pillow. you’ve learned that he loves it when you call him by his full name instead of “shua” or “josh”; you don’t know why, but it always seems to drive him crazy, and you never fail to leave his apartment sore in all the best places afterwards.

you spread your legs a little wider and moan, rolling your cheek to the side as you imagine him fucking you with his fingers instead of your own. i can tell you’re getting close, imaginary joshua says with a smirk, his hand cupped against your pussy as he thrusts his fingers in and out at a bruising pace.

“mhm,” you whimper, curling your fingers and trying to convince yourself that it feels as good as when he does it. “please, joshua—”

you turn your vibrator up to the highest setting, your hips canting into the air as you squeeze your eyes tighter shut. you can feel the waves beginning to wash over you and you repeat his name like a plea, chanting it over and over until you can’t form words anymore.

cum for me, baby, all over my fingers, he says, and your mouth falls open as you let go, your knee accidentally smacking against the wall as your legs shake with pleasure. you keep your vibrator held firmly against your clit until it sends you over the edge again, still riding the high of your first orgasm as you struggle to breathe through it. joshua loves to overstimulate you, until all you can do is weakly push at his hands and beg him to leave your exhausted cunt alone.

the post-orgasm clarity soon starts to hit and you’re left with the realization that you just got off from pretending your neighbor is just as in love with you as you are with him. absolutely pathetic. 

but your eyes are starting to droop and you’re quickly finding that you’re too tired to stay awake to think about how much of a loser you are, so you tuck your favorite vibrator back into its spot in your drawer and put your pajamas back on and tuck yourself into bed, trying not to wish joshua was there beside you instead of infinitely far away on the other side of the wall.

when joshua wakes up the next morning, he half expects you to be waiting outside his door again.

of course anyone would be annoyed at being woken up by their neighbor before 7am, but then you’d sheepishly told him that you’d had the most insane wet dream about him and he’d been more than happy to let you come in and bounce yourself on his lap while he watched the early morning sunlight stream through his bedroom window onto your cheeks. 

pretty much the perfect morning, in his eyes, except for the fact that you hadn’t slept in his bed with him. you never sleep over and it’s obvious why, but maybe it’s for good reason: he won’t get so attached to you.

unfortunately, though, this morning you aren’t waiting for him, so he trudges to his kitchen to make himself one lonely cup of coffee and one lonely stack of frozen waffles and get ready for his day.

he’s started noticing patterns about when and why you text him, and he finds himself checking his phone all day. 

on mondays, because you have all your classes on those days and you’re already exhausted so why not get fucked within an inch of your life before you settle in for the night?

on thursdays, usually in the afternoons because both your schedules happen to line up where he’s just finished his work shift and you’re on your break between classes so it leaves the perfect amount of time for him to eat you out.

if you have a particularly hectic morning you’ll text him right away and ask him if he’d come over once you get home that night, and he’ll reply that he can’t wait with a big red heart emoji.

in fact, most of the times you want to see him is when you’re stressed or upset, which makes sense to him but at the same time makes him a little disappointed. he hopes that you’d want to see him on your happiest days, because any day he gets to see you is automatically his happiest day. but he supposes that’s where you’ve drawn the line, and he’ll have to be okay with that.

joshua’s restless through his chem lab this morning, and then his english lecture, and then his shift at work, not-so patiently awaiting you to ask him about his plans tonight.

but you don’t text him at all on monday, and you don’t text him on tuesday, either. he catches you going into your apartment at the same time he’s leaving on wednesday, and he waves as usual but you just give him a small nod and hurriedly close your door behind you. he’s almost positive you’ll text him on thursday, but your lunch hour comes and goes without a word.

he almost never texts you first, because you text him so often and most of the time he’s already thinking about you anyway. so when sunday rolls around again and he still hasn’t heard anything from you, he thinks maybe you’re waiting for him to say something first this time.

he knows you’ve been home, because he’s heard your friends coming and going. maybe you’ve just been busy with other things and didn’t mean to ghost him. sure, you get together pretty often, but that doesn’t mean it’ll happen every single week. plans change and that’s fine, and it is right before finals week after all. 

but even when you’re on your period and aren’t in the mood to see him, you usually send a text as a heads up, and he’s definitely not keeping track or anything but this week shouldn’t be one of them. he’s going through every possibility he can think of as to why you’ve seemingly disappeared, but he just can’t find a reason why.

but then he realizes something else; he’s stopped hearing you at night, too. and then he really starts to worry, because he remembers how upset you looked when he saw you in the hall and maybe something really awful happened to you and he’s been pouting in his room like a selfish idiot this whole time.

so he pulls up your contact, cursor blinking over the text box as he tries to figure out what to say.

hey, he decides on, and he’s surprised but happy when you read the message right away. 

he waits a moment, but you don’t respond, so he texts again. you can talk to me, you know? about other stuff. i’m your friend.

he shakes his head and deletes that last sentence before pressing send. you read it immediately again, but it’s a long and agonizing few minutes before you reply.

okay

he frowns, not knowing what to say back. did i do something and make you mad? you seem upset and i’m sorry.

it’s nothing. don’t worry

joshua wants to say, but i do worry, but he knows that might be too far and he’s still not even sure what’s wrong. 

so instead he stands up and walks out his front door, leaving his phone on his bed. he may be an idiot, but the least he can do is try to act like your friend.

you don’t answer when he knocks, so he calls your name. “i know you’re home, i can hear you through the wall.”

finally the lock clicks, and you open your door just a crack. “what do you mean, you can hear through the wall?”

he pauses. “i can hear you… walking around, and stuff. making noise. the walls are thin.” so you really didn’t know? oh god, now he feels like an asshole for listening, even if he was trying not to.

“oh. well.” you sigh and close your eyes, inhaling. “that’s embarrassing.”

“can we talk?” joshua asks, suddenly feeling exposed. he’s plenty comfortable in large groups of people, but when he’s around you he wants to hold you tight and keep you secret and safe, out of sight of any wandering eyes. standing out in the hallway where anyone could hear is not how he’d like this to go.

“sure,” you mumble, swinging your door open for him to come inside.

you close the door but don’t move from behind it, standing like you’re waiting for him to say something. so he does.

“listen. i know whatever this is, is messy,” he starts, gesturing between the two of you. “but you’re my friend, and i care about you and i want you to be happy.” he sighs. “so please tell me what’s wrong, because not texting you has been really weird, and if you want to end this then that’s fine and i’ll leave you alone, but don’t just ghost me. we’re still neighbors and i’m not a fan of awkward hallway conversations.”

you crack a smile for a second, but it quickly fades. “do you want to end this?”

“no, not really. but i don’t want you to feel like you have to keep doing this if you don’t like it.”

“i thought it was pretty obvious i did like it,” you say with an almost laugh. 

he stares at you quietly. “then what’s going on?”

“i want to keep doing this, but i just… i don’t think i can,” you say, avoiding his eyes. “at least not like this.”

“what do you mean, ‘like this’?”

“joshua, because i like you. and i feel awful because i know we’re not on the same page and it feels like i’m taking advantage of you because you probably have a dozen other women telling you the exact same thing and it’s probably exhausting and it’s not what you want!”

his face contorts in shock at your words. “well, first, that’s not at all true. and second of all, stop trying to guess what i want without just talking to me. what is it that you want?”

“you! i don’t know. i don’t know what i want anymore,” you say, covering your face with your hands. 

joshua’s not sure if he should hug you or not, but he really, really wants to. “is that all that’s been bothering you this week?” he asks softly.

“yeah,” you say, moving your hands but still avoiding his eyes. “it’s stupid. i know, and i’m sorry.”

he laughs, and you look up at him like he’s crazy. “you don’t have anything to be sorry for,” he says. “i’m sorry. because for months i’ve been wishing we could change this but i never said anything because this is what i thought you wanted.”

you keep staring at him, but he can’t read the emotion on your face. “so… what is this, then?”

“i’ll be whatever you want me to be for you. your fuck buddy, or your friend, or your boyfriend, whatever.”

“you really don’t see other people?” you ask, still unsure.

now it’s joshua’s turn to look at you like you’re crazy. “no, why would i want to? i don’t care if you do, but with how often you text me it sounds like you don’t, either.”

“i just figured— nevermind,” you sigh.

“can i give you a hug?” he asks after a minute. “we’ve been sleeping together the whole semester, and i don’t think i’ve ever given you a real, proper hug.”

you smile, and seeing that instantly makes his day. “yes, please.”

his arms feel secure around you, and his chest is warm against your cheek. with a sigh you close your eyes, breathing in the smell of his cologne that you’ve been trying to push out of your brain for weeks.

you stand there for a while, neither of you making any moves to pull away. it's been a really, really long week without joshua and you didn’t realize how badly you missed him until this moment.

“so about the walls thing—”

“hm?” he mumbles.

“—you can really hear everything?”

he laughs. “oh, yeah. your bedroom is right next to mine. been having trouble sleeping for so long because i kept hearing you moan my name and it got me hard every time.”

your cheeks burn in embarrassment. “joshua, i’m so sorry! if i had known—”

he shakes his head, cutting you off. “you can make it up to me by telling me everything you were thinking about.”

“probably nothing you don't already know,” you grin shyly.

“probably, but i wanna hear you say it anyway.”

you lean away from him a little bit, releasing your arms from around him to rest against his chest. “i should've known this is why you wanted to come over,” you say, pretending to be mad, but you can already feel the tingling feeling building up in your stomach at the thought.

“it's not,” he replies smoothly, “but i did miss waking up to you knocking on my door.”

you pout. “that was only that one time!”

“doesn't mean it has to be the last.”

heat creeps up into your cheeks and you glance away from him, gaze trained on his shoulder. 

“you really wanna know what i was thinking about?” you ask, finally building up the courage to look back up at his face.

“of course i do.” his eyes are sparkling as he watches you, and you can't exactly identify the emotion but you know it makes your heart flutter.

“well,” you start, “it was different every time, but most of the time it started like this.” you trail your hands down his torso, pausing when they reach his hips. he stays silent, eyes fixed on your movements and a little smile on his face that you don't think he even realizes he's doing.

“and then…” you look down, a little surprised to notice the bulge in his pants already there. you place your hand over him gently and look up, waiting for him to say something, but he doesn't stop you.

you clear your throat and start again. “and then, you'd sit on the couch and let me gag on your cock for a while.”

you start to push on his hips, backing him into your living room. he’s enjoying this way more than he should be, but then again, you basically just confessed your love to him so it’s kind of the best day of his life.

the back of his thighs hits the arm rest of your couch, but before you can move him any further his hands pull you flush against his body, his bulge pressing into your stomach. 

“how about we skip that part for another day?” he says, his voice low. “tell me what happens after.”

you try your best to hold back a moan, suddenly losing your ability to speak. you can practically feel his cock throbbing through his clothes and it makes it impossible to come up with a coherent sentence.

“don’t get shy on me now, baby,” he hums, hands still firmly gripping your hips, and if your brain hadn’t short-circuited already then it definitely has now. “been hearing you in your room for weeks, i know how loud you like to be.”

“that’s not fair,” you finally manage, still trying to collect your thoughts.

joshua leans forward to kiss your neck, gently at first but quickly growing harsher, and you’re sure he can feel your pulse jump every time his teeth graze your skin. 

“fuck, just like that,” you whimper, “exactly like that, shua—”

after a minute he hums and glances up at you through his lashes, clearly waiting for you to keep talking.

“we’d make out for a while, and then you—you’d fuck me on the floor,” you gasp out. joshua moans against your skin, and it’s only then that you realize your hands have found their way to his hair, tugging on it to urge him on.

your fingers loosen and he pulls away, the corners of his lips wet with saliva. “on the floor? you deserve better than that, baby,” he tsks. “can i take you to bed instead?”

“please,” you whine softly, suddenly feeling unbearably eager to fuck him. all week you’ve been using every last ounce of your energy to avoid thinking about joshua, but now that he’s here in front of you and way too willing to play into your fantasies, all the emotions you’ve been holding in are spilling out, and you don’t feel like containing them anymore.

you grab his hand and it’s like you can’t make it to your room fast enough, falling onto your bed and pulling him down on top of you. by then you’ve both forgotten the conversation you were having before because you’re too busy desperately pressing your lips against his, barely remembering to breathe as he kisses you and kisses you and kisses you and what were you even talking about again?

your brain is clouded when he finally pulls away with a gasp, kissing your cheek and your neck once more. his hands slip beneath your shirt and tug it over your head, making his way between your breasts and down your stomach and leaving more kisses as he goes. your skin burns with each touch, gentle lips and not-so-gentle hands covering every inch of you until you feel like your whole body is on fire.

he sits up just long enough to pull his own shirt off and now it’s your turn to touch, your hands instantly finding his chest as you trace your fingertips down his abs.

“how do you want me?” joshua groans, his hands joining yours at his hips to help him push his pants to the ground.

“fuck… missionary? just like this?” you say as you kick your pants and panties off in a rush, wrapping your legs around his waist.

his cock brushes against your stomach and you sigh out a moan, your hands moving up to grab at his biceps. he doesn’t say another word as he runs his tip through your folds, his attention fixated on your pussy and how you’re already dripping for him. for a second he forgets where he is and what he’s doing, so engrossed with the sight of you and how fucking glad he is that he didn’t lose you because you’re both idiots that assume too much about what the other wants instead of communicating your feelings like normal adults.

you let out a little noise and his eyes flick back up to your face, his gaze immediately softening at the blissful expression on your face. to think, he could’ve been seeing you like this the whole time if he had the balls to admit how he felt sooner. but there’s plenty of time for him to pout about it later because right now you need him, and he needs you, too, so why waste time thinking about that when he can think about how good you look taking his cock?

he leans down because he can’t resist kissing your beautiful face one more time, and finally he pushes into you, letting out a loud whine at the same time you moan his name. the sound of your voices joined together goes straight to his dick as he pulls almost all the way out, thrusting back into you with renewed energy.

“baby— fuck,” he groans, his grip on your body tightening as his thrusts begin to grow faster and rougher. “so good to me.”

you clench hard around him at the nickname, clinging onto him as you squeeze your eyes shut.

and then without warning everything hits you all at once, and you go boneless in his arms as he whimpers and groans and gasps and holds you tight and he probably told you he loves you about a million times as he was cumming too but you can’t hear anything as you lay exhausted on the bed, staring up at the ceiling with your ears ringing.

even with his shaking hands you can still feel the gentleness in joshua’s touch as you start to come back down, the warmth of his breath on your cheek as his fingers lightly brush your hair out of your face, feeling him twitch inside you before he slowly pulls out. 

with his own orgasm following just barely after yours that was probably some kind of record for the fastest round ever, but you don’t even have the strength to care. so what if he usually fucks you for hours on end? all you care about is the fact that he’s tracing your collarbones with a fucked-out little smile on his face and it’s probably the cutest thing you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

with a soft grunt he stands up, and you call out his name with all the energy you have left.

“joshua?”

“mhm?”

“can you stay?” you ask, and somehow you both know you’re talking about more than just for the next few minutes.

he smiles. “wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else.” and when he comes back with a towel and a wet wipe and apologizes for how fast it all was and promises to give you more whenever you want because he’s officially yours now, you know he’s telling the truth.

even when he’s doing nothing at all, joshua never fails to make your head spin. 

laying in the dark with you, his fingers absentmindedly twirling your hair as you snuggle into his chest, you can’t even begin to find the words to explain how good it feels knowing he loves you and you love him back. 

but it doesn’t seem like he needs words right now. all he needs is you.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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[saekkas]

𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆

summary: in a different universe, michael kaiser comes home to you, and every single hardship he's endured has meaning when you wrap your arms around him. in this one, he has only himself to blame for when his house becomes a shadow of the home he used to live in.

tags: f!reader, kissing, angst (minimal comfort), lovers to strangers, neglectance, second chances, fools gold.

wc: 1.8k

notes: inspired by an angsty ask @mirahua sent that's been plaguing my mind for the past week. also, my debut as an angst writer so pls go easy on me ಥ_ಥ and the tags kind of sort of don't make sense, forgive me for that </3

"i'm home," kaiser whispers, opening the door to his apartment only to click it shut a few seconds later, his eyes fighting to keep themselves open.

he leans against the door, taking in the wide space. everything's dark and still, there are no signs of life, as to be expected when one comes home at 4AM.

he sighs, passing by the books and empty mug you must've used earlier in the day. some of his stuff is cluttered around yours, like the small sanrio plushies he bought with you only months ago. they occupy the sofa along with your pillows, and he smiles sadly at the sight. where did the time go?

even with so many trinkets and things littered around, his house feels empty. lonely as if no one's lived in it for weeks and months. his steps falter as he enters the kitchen to find a portion of a home-cooked meal, sitting on his favorite plate. it's cold but it still glows with the warmth and love you prepared it with.

he sighs once more, rubbing his hand across his face. putting the meal into the fridge with shaky hands, kaiser's quick to drop onto one of the chairs.

he stops for a second, looking around his house, the place he's lived in for the past 3 years. something's changed within the space, like there's an object that doesn't belong between the four walls. deep in his heart, kaiser wonders if it's him.

fishing his phone from his pocket, he takes in the messages that start to trickle onto the screen. it's been on airplane mode the whole day, a habit he needs to break, you've once told him.

his thumb lingers above your contact.

scrolling through, his eyes take in every single text you've sent him dating from months back. he sees the way they started; love filled descriptions of your days mixed in with questions about his own. reading the text you've sent today, he feels a pang go through him at the lone message. good night. get home safe. nothing else.

his hand clenches around the table, sadness turning into guilt that spreads like a plague when he realizes he's barely replied back to any.

this has been his life for the last 9 months. he wakes up, leaves for practice, comes back sometime around dawn, only to repeat the next day. his muscles scream at him every second, his shoulders groaning under the weight of exhaustion. it's the price one has to pay for the fame and fortune, kaiser tells himself.

self-assured as he makes himself out to be, kaiser isn't stupid enough to leave things all to fate. he may be a star striker now, one that has everyone vying for his time and attention, but who knows what will come in the next few years.

there will always be new talent, people with incredible skills and the greed to propel them into stardom. into taking his place. he knows because he's seen it before. been it before.

as the clock sounds to signal a new hour, his vision starts to blur. everything is starting to feel foggy, his head pounding and body screaming at him for sleep. he can't quite grasp anything. not when there's a distance separating him and the world around him.

"mihya?" comes your voice, soft and slightly raspy. kaiser snaps back into focus, the ringing in his ears dulling into background noise. "you're home."

"hi, baby." you're swaying on your feet, one of his shirts around your body. he recognizes it to be one of his favorites and he almost chuckles at the sight if not for the lump that's appeared in his throat. "shouldn't you be asleep? did i wake you up? i'm sorry if i did.'"

the first thing that comes to mind is how delicate you look. as if one wrong move, one wrong word is going to push you into a shell. he takes in everything about you, starting from the messiness of your hair to the slump of your shoulders.

he hasn't seen you. hasn't had the opportunity to breathe you in like he used to. those night when he traced every single one of your features, giggling loudly with you in the dead of the night seem so far away now.

he misses it, those moments you shared from who-knows how many nights ago.

when you rub the sleep out of your eyes, looking at him with a small smile, his trance breaks. he takes in the distance between you both, like a chasm that's gaping and mocking him because he was the one who let it widen this far.

"you didn't. i just needed to pee," you say, tone just barely above a whisper. there's something floating between you two, the things unsaid. you're afraid they'll come pouring out if you break the silence. "how was practice?"

kaiser realizes, even when you're right in front of him, your presence feels like a ghost. hesitant, locked up into a small ball of a person that's only being held together by hope and love, no matter how small.

"i'm sorry i didn't reply to your text." the words pour out of him like a waterfall, blunt and bruising. i'm sorry i haven't been with you. his eyes trace your form, and he sighs, moving to engulf you into his arms. "practice was.. busy."

please don't leave. please tell me that this is enough. that i'm enough.

"it's okay. i'm used to it." your tongue slips and you sigh as he wraps around you. it feels foreign, his touch. like he's not exactly the same person he used to be, but neither are you. "i'm sorry. i didn't mean it like that."

kaiser can only clench his eyes. he leans his head down to press a kiss to your forehead. "i know, it's okay. and i'm sorry."

i'm sorry i haven't been there for you. i'm sorry i haven't taken you out on another date. i'm sorry that i'm selfish and all i know is to take and take. i'm sorry that it's leaving you hollow and bruised. i'm sorry my love isn't enough.

the thoughts swirl, pinging around like warning signals going off in his head. he opens his mouth, only to close it right after. "let's go to bed."

even when the softness of his duvet embraces him, kaiser can't relax. his body stays stiff, timid as he waits for you to settle beside him. when you do, he's slow to reach out, placing a hand on your hip to test the waters.

he relaxes when you mold into his form, curling around his body as if he's never done any wrong. he presses you hard against his chest, wrapping his arms around your body.

he doesn't get to hold you like this anymore. between practice and exhaustion, whenever his head hits the pillow, he's out like a light. he misses the intimacy, the feeling of having someone beside him.

"do you think about me?" he hums, asking you the question. his hands nestle around your waist and back. he breaths in your scent, his body finally letting the coils of his muscles loose. "because it feels like i think about you every minute."

you respond in kind, caressing the hand that's nestled on your waist. you don't say anything. you don't need to, not when you let him kiss you for the first time in months.

"you know i love you right?" he whispers. there's nothing but him, him, him. you're surrounded by his presence, his touch is everywhere, and there's barely an inch between where you lay. his hair tickles your cheek, the faded blue molding into blonde. "and you know that i would never want to hurt you?"

you should know better. you wish your heart wouldn't give in so easily. you're nothing but an ordinary girl from humble backgrounds while the man wrapped around you is a shooting star that landed on your palm on a rainy summer day.

you should know better because shooting stars fade away.

"do you really?" you whisper, drained and tired out of your mind. "because you've done nothing but hurt me, mihya."

he isn't surprised by your words, but the truth stings all the same. he sighs, pressing his forehead against yours. the weight is back on his shoulders, his head starting to spin as he takes your words in.

"i promise i'll be better," he whispers back, pleading as he looks down into your eyes with tears lined in his. "why don't i take you on a date tomorrow? to that place you've been wanting to go."

"mihya," you trail off, shaking your head. "i-"

"i'll buy you flowers. i'll come home from practice early. we'll drive to the restaurant together." michael kaiser is nothing but greedy. the words that are flowing out are rushed, and his voice cracks under his own emotions. he'll say anything. he'll take and take, if it means he'll get you to stay. "you mean everything to me. i can't lose you."

you don't reply, not for a long time after. looking into his eyes, you process every bit of guilt and hope he has strewn inside. you wonder if they're enough to fix whatever's left.

"okay," you say with a hesitant nod of your head. "one last chance."

kaiser's eyes light up, brightening his whole visage.

"thank you." he kisses you, deep and passionate. there's nothing but you and him in the moment and as you fall asleep, kaiser whispers against your ear, placing gentle kisses on your cheek, wishing they'll be enough to take back every ounce of hurt he's given you. "i love you."

the next morning, kaiser leaves with a light heart and a kiss on his cheek. his steps are confident, his eyes bright. there's nothing in his head except for you and your date. he hums to himself, letting his thoughts roam about your reaction for when he surprises you with flowers when he gets home.

and yet, the universe is a cruel thing and so is his greed. kaiser loses himself in his practice, scoring goal after goal even as his phone rings. he doesn't see your texts of "mihya, don't forget our date tonight! can't wait!" "mihya, what should i wear? should we match?" "mihya it's getting late, where are you?" nor does he see the multiple missed calls you leave.

and when he gets home, soaked in rain with wilted flowers in his hand, kaiser is greeted by the sight of a truly empty house. your warm presence is gone, taking every moment of happiness with you.

he has only himself to blame for every single self-destructive habit that's led to him losing the one he calls home.

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[ecoamerica]

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[theidiotwhowritesthings]

The Art of Failing [3]

Werewolf!Joel Miller x F!Reader, Vampire!Din Djarin x F!Reader

Series Warnings: violence and mild gore, mentions of blood and injures, reader is described as active and able to fight, eventual smut, loss of a child, angst to fluff, more warnings to come based on individual chapters

Chapter Warnings: discussion of child loss, discussion of parent loss, discussion of drunk driving and repercussions of that, mentions of blood and injuries, vampires drinking blood, dubcon setting but no smut, vampires play master/pet and it's hella sketchy, drugs and alcohol, reader is drugged

Word Count: 12.8k

Summary: The Division of Mythological Affairs was created to protect and serve the supernatural community while keeping the knowledge of their existence a secret. You hoped to become an Agent of the DMA like your mother before you. Just as your dream begins to fall apart at the seams, you stumble across a missing persons report that could change everything. You are desperate to solve the case, to prove your ability, and you find yourself with unlikely allies⏤ a werewolf running from his pack and a vampire shunned from his coven. The stakes are high, lives are at risk, and success hinges on the three of you learning to work together.

[a/n: i have no good reason for this being a day late other than who i am as a person. also there's a supernatural reference in here b/c i am unclever lol.]

FIVE MINUTES TO MIDNIGHT

"life went on but it was never the same again." d.j.

The only sound in the room came from the clock hanging on your living room wall as you sat on your couch and stared blankly ahead. After saving you, Din had climbed in your car with you to ensure you got home and the second you were up in your apartment he disappeared saying he was going to track down ‘Tim Brancato’. You weren’t sure the bounty hunter would’ve told you how he planned to do so, even if you had asked, so you left it alone for now. 

Apparently, the adrenaline was officially wearing off and shock was settling in its place. You could’ve died. You probably would have. The eerie smile Miles gave you told you everything you needed to know and the image of his face wouldn’t leave your mind. He was going to kill you, and he had been excited at the prospect. 

You knew being an Agent was a dangerous lifestyle. Hell, you knew better than most⏤ it was how you lost your mother. Your eyes darted to the picture on the wall of the two of you. Even when people weren’t actively trying to hurt an Agent, the work itself was still a risk. Any case had the chance to go south. That’s what they say happened to her. A simple job where everything went wrong. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Your mother had been a hero with huge solved cases under her belt. She had saved countless lives and put her own at risk just as often, but it had been a patrol that took her from you. She stumbled across a smuggling deal gone wrong, in the dead of night, and then never came home that morning.

So, it didn’t surprise you that putting your nose in something this big made you a target, but you felt shaky all the same. 

The silence of your apartment was interrupted by frantic pounding on your door. You startled, eyes wide, but a voice immediately set you at ease. “Hey, it’s me!” Joel called out, muffled by the door. You stood and hurried to open the door, and the second you did Joel pounced. His hands found your face, cradling it carefully, and his dark eyes were scanning you with concern. At his touch, your face began to burn, and there was no telling if it came from your injuries earlier in the day, embarrassment from the doting, or just the feel of his rough, calloused hands against your cheeks. His hands looked huge at baseline, but having them envelope your face made it that much more prominent in your mind. “You alright, sweetheart?”

“I’m fine, Joel. You didn’t have to rush over.” You replied. After the incident, you had texted him that at some point tonight he should swing by so the three of you could figure out this Tim Brancato issue, but for him to be here already he must have sped over. “Din isn’t even back yet from⏤”

“I shouldn’t have let you go alone.” Joel muttered a string of curses. He only released your face then after evaluating a few more times⏤ as if he’d find an injury that wasn’t there the first time he looked you over. “The second you told me you were goin' there, I should’ve⏤”

“There was no way of knowing.”

“We were suspicious though. That fanged metal head told us.”

“We didn’t know for sure yet though.”

Joel crossed his arms and a crease appeared between his eyes where his brows furrowed in disagreement. “I shouldn’t have let you go alone.” He repeated himself. “If the bloodsucker hadn’t been there…”

“Really. I’m fine, Joel.” You set your hand on his arm. His scorching skin under yours sent your heart into overdrive, and you had the urge to rake your fingers through his arm hair. Nima’s phone call with you flashed in your mind, and, before you could do something stupid, you pulled your hand back. “And hey, no mean nicknames when Din get backs.”

Joel scrunched his features in a pout as he shook his head. “Why not?”

“Because.” You reached around him to shut the door and walked back to your living room. “If we’re gonna work together we should at least try to keep the peace.”

Joel trailed after you with a scoff, “Well, what the hell am I supposed to call him then?”

“His name?” You shrugged. “I know that’s probably wild of me to suggest.”

Joel grumbled under his breath and as you slipped into the kitchen you saw him gravitate to stare at the pictures on your wall again. There were a good bit of places you’ve been and people you loved. Plus, staring at the pictures was probably less rude than plopping down on your couch and watching television. Not that you would have a problem if he did, but you certainly would have too much anxiety if the roles were reversed.

“You hungry?” You called out. The fridge and pantry weren’t overflowing with options. Technically, you were past due to go grocery shopping. “I can order us DoorDash or something.” Joel didn’t respond and you stepped out of the kitchen to try and get his attention. “Joel?”

His gaze snapped from a photo to you, “Huh?”

“Food? I was gonna order something while we wait for Din.”

“Oh. Yeah, I could eat.” He nodded. You picked up your phone and began to ask if he had any preferences when he interrupted. “How long until the vampire gets back?”

Well, vampire was way better than bloodsucker. You’d take it. You paused in thought, “I actually don’t know. A couple hours at least? I’m not sure how long it would take a bounty hunter to find any info on this guy.” You scrolled through your phone. “Do you have any food preferences or things you hate? There’s⏤”

“You wanna go out?”

“Huh?” You nearly dropped your phone in surprise and stared back with wide eyes.

“Out. You wanna go out to eat rather than call in?” Joel asked. “There’s a place near here I like.”

“Oh. Oh, okay. Yeah.” You nodded. Joel nodded his head toward your door indicating he expected you to follow. You snatched up your keys and wallet to hurry after him. 

Joel made the decision to drive and you didn’t have a strong enough preference to argue. It only made sense since he knew where the place was. You climbed into his cab and glanced around. The truck was an older pick up that had seen better years, but it was well kept and clean. As Joel reversed out of the parking spot he noticed your gaze.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.” You shook your head. Hanging from the rear view mirror was a homemade bracelet. It consisted of mostly pink and white beads, but there were a few specific beads interrupting the color pattern every three beads. You noticed one shaped like a star, another of a butterfly, and another of a soccer ball. If there were any others they were hidden behind the mirror. You chuckled, “Did Ellie make that?”

Joel’s eyes darted to the bracelet and he stared at it a beat before his eyes snapped back to the road, “No.”

He offered no further clarification and you squirmed in your seat at the sudden tension. You cleared your throat and tried to change the subject, “So what does this place serve?”

Joel seemed eager for the topic change as he spoke up quickly. The place was a simple diner, but Joel swore up and down on their food. A hidden gem of a place apparently. It was about ten minutes from your apartment and located in the parking lot of a strip mall. You had actually seen the place a few times, but had just never paid it any mind. The outside had the classic retro diner look and you chuckled when he led you in and the interior matched the old school diner look. A handful of people were scattered about.

Someone from the kitchen called out a greeting, and Joel raised a hand in return before sitting on a stool at the bar. You took the seat beside him, “You’re a regular, huh?”

“Yeah. Ellie and I come here every other Sunday.” Joel shrugged. “Tradition, I guess you could say. Friend owns the place.”

You hummed in amusement. Austin was a big city and you found it ironic that every other week he had apparently spent in your neck of the woods. You wondered what it would’ve been like to meet Joel before Ellie disappeared. 

“Hey.” A woman spoke up. She stepped out of the swinging kitchen doors and hurried over. Her long hair was a light shade of brown and her face had fallen into concern. “Any news?”

“Not yet.” Joel shook his head. It was clear they were speaking about Ellie and that made sense if him and her spent as much time here as they did. “You haven’t heard anythin' on the street have you, Tess?”

Tess narrowed her eyes at him, “I would’ve called if I had.” She did a double take when she noticed you and tilted her head. “Who’re you?”

You gave her your name with a small smile. “I’m a friend of Joel’s and⏤”

“Joel doesn’t have friends.” Tess responded.

Joel snorted. “Thanks.”

“I’m helping him find Ellie.” You clarified. Tess looked skeptical, as if she was about to mock and/or insult you, so you jumped in. “I work⏤ worked for the DMA.”

“And that’s helpful how?”

“Leave it alone, Tess.” Joel grunted. “You hear of a guy named… what was his name, sweetheart?”

“Tim Brancato.”

Tess’ eyes darted from Joel to you and back again. One of her eyebrows raised in question, and despite her claim that Joel had no friends, she must have known him well as that was all it took for him to understand her. Her hands fell to her hips and Joel scoffed, “Have you heard the name or not?”

“No. I haven’t.” She shook her head. “But I’ll make a call.”

Tess gave you one more glance before heading back to the kitchen. She caught a waitress by the arm and pointed her in your direction before disappearing into the back. The waitress quickly took your orders and brought you your drinks. You leaned your elbows on the counter.

“She seems nice.”

“You don’t gotta lie.”

“No, I mean it!” You shook your head quickly. “Maybe nice wasn’t the right word. She seems like she cares.” The woman reminded you a bit of Nima. Maybe not overall since Nima’s general vibe was ‘bubbly cheerfulness’ and Tess’ was more ‘casual homicide as a hobby’, but they were both protective. “Everybody deserves a friend who will go to war for them.”

Joel paused before giving you a small nod, “Tess and I go way back.”

“Is she a…” You started then paused to see the very human couple sitting only a couple stools down. “You know…” You lifted your hands to act like they were claws and briefly bared your teeth.

Joel’s lips broke out into a brief smile, but you were able to spot a dimple in his cheek, “What’re you doin' with your hands?”

“They’re⏤” You gasped, mock offended. “They’re very clearly claws. Thank you very much.”

Joel’s smile muted again, a moment of wistful, before it fell away. “No. She’s not. She’s human, but she’s involved in our community.” The two of you sat in a comfortable silence between one another. The sounds of the diner filling the air around you. Tess stepped back out and Joel stiffened. “So?”

“Nothing.” She shook her head. “My contacts don’t know the name.” Joel mumbled a curse and you found yourself praying that Din would find something. “Is there anything else I can do?”

“I don’t think so.” Joel dragged his hand over his jaw.

“Well, you know how to reach me if you need something, and I’ll reach out to you if I hear anything different.” Tess replied. He nodded. Her eyes drifted back to you. “It was nice to meet you.”

“Same.” You blurted quickly, not expecting the comment.

Tess left the space once more and you watched the mysterious woman go. She didn’t work for the DMA obviously which made you curious what her ties were in the community. A part of you wanted to ask Joel more details, but you assumed if he hadn’t offered them then he didn’t want to offer them.

Your food arrived a few minutes later and you ate in silence. It wasn’t awkward, but you found yourself glancing his way occasionally. Joel seemed lost in thought as he ate, and you wished you had more to offer him. You couldn’t help but compare yourself to your mother. If she were on this case she’d probably be much further ahead than you were. 

“My daughter made the bracelet.” Your head perked up at the sudden statement. Joel wasn’t looking your way. He stared ahead, picking at his food. “My other daughter. Before Ellie.”

The words and the tone in which he said it told you everything you needed to know and you felt your heart physically break in your chest. “I’m sorry I asked. You don’t have to⏤”

“Don’t apologize. Had no way of knowin'.” Joel shrugged. “She’ll have been gone for seven years in March.” He took a long sip of his water. “Was an accident. Drunk driver sideswiped us on the road and my truck flipped.” Joel rubbed his hands on his jeans and shrugged. “Should’ve been me but it wasn’t. Driver hit us on my side. Made no sense why I⏤” He stopped and sucked in a sharp breath. “Ellie came into my life 'bout a year ago. The six in between were… not good.”

Your chest ached in empathy for this man. Parents should never have to lose a child. You literally could not even imagine the pain that came with that. And, when you thought about the fact that now Ellie was missing… Gods, it would’ve hurt less to have someone gut punch you.

“What… What was her name?” You asked softly then wished you could take it back. “You don’t have to… to answer.”

Joel shook his head. “Sarah. Her name was Sarah. She had just turned twelve.”

Only twelve? You were at a loss for words. Not that it mattered. There were no words that fit as a response. Nothing a person could say that would touch the magnitude of losing a young child. 

“I lost my mom.” Your mouth decided on what to say before your mind could fully agree and the words came out soft and hesitant. “A little over a year ago. It was an accident too.” You wrung your hands together in your lap and tried to ignore the burning of your eyes as tears threatened to spill. This wasn’t something you had really talked to anyone about openly. Not even Nima. People knew, but you just… hadn’t spent much time admitting it out loud. You swallowed and took a slow, calming breath. “I know it’s not the same, and I’m not trying to compare pain, I just…”

Joel shook his head, “Pain is pain.”

You hesitated for a second before reaching out to set a hand on top of his which was now resting on the counter. You gave a light squeeze, “I’m sorry, Joel. I know platitudes hardly help, but I really am sorry.”

Joel finally turned to look at you and the agony in his eyes could’ve knocked the air from your lungs. He slowly turned his hand over so he could squeeze your hand back. As he tightened his grip he sighed, “I’m sorry.” Joel shook his head. “I’m sorry 'bout your mom.”

You gave him a tight lipped smile in response, but it didn’t resolve the heartbreak in his eyes. The two of you eased back into a comfortable silence and it took a moment before you realized you still had his hand in yours. As you began to pull away, the diner door chimed open. It wasn’t a sound you would’ve paid much mind too, but the other people eating in the diner reacted in surprise. Joel’s hands fell from yours as you both turned around and it was Din, in all his Mandalorian glory, standing in the doorway.

“We need to talk.” Din said.

Joel threw cash onto the counter, enough to cover both meals, and dragged you out before you could complain. He shoved Din out into the parking lot. “Are you outta your damned mind? Out in public wearin' that??”

“I’m not usually in the public, but how else was I supposed to get your attention, dog?”

“We were gonna meet at her place!”

“I don’t want to wait. This needs discussing now.”

Joel hurried to his truck. You began to offer Din the front seat considering he was much larger than you in that bulky armor, but Joel grunted. “He can shove his shiny ass into the back. You’re up front, sweetheart.”

You shot Din an awkward smile and heard a string of muttered Mando’a as everyone climbed into the truck. You turned in your seat to face Din, “How’d you know where to find us?”

“I tracked you.”

“Me?” You pointed to yourself. Din nodded and said nothing further on the matter. A trend with this team, apparently. You sighed, “Okay, did you find Brancato?”

Din nodded, “Somewhat.”

“The fuck does somewhat mean?” Joel barked.

“You said he works undercover.” Din said and you nodded to the statement. “It’s with my kind.” You opened your mouth, but Din shook his head. “Not Mandalorians. Vampires. My leads tell me that there’s a high chance he’ll be at Carnal tonight.”

Joel scoffed, “The vampire club?? Why?”

“He’s working undercover to infiltrate a vampire coven.” Din said dryly. “And you’re asking why he’d be at Carnal?”

Joel swiveled his head around to glare at the man and you held your hands up to stop the fight before it began. “Okay. We can work with that. I didn’t know humans were allowed in Carnal. I thought it was a vampire only club.”

“It is.” Din nodded. “But pets are allowed.”

It took a beat for the words to click and your eyes widened. Joel rolled his eyes and mumbled something under his breath that you missed. Killing to drink humans was very illegal in the city for many obvious reasons. There were different ways vampires could get their hands on DMA approved blood, sold in packs, but if a vampire wanted a way to drink straight from a source the quickest, and most legal way, was a pet.

“Fine.” Joel snapped. “So you go there tonight⏤”

“I can’t go.”

“What??” Joel turned in his seat again and you leaned forward to lightly push his cheek so he was facing the road once more. “What exactly is your plan then? You want me to fuckin' walk in? Because if that’s what it takes I’ll⏤”

You interrupted his rising anger, “Why not, Din?”

“Mandalorians do not keep pets and we don’t frequent clubs that endorse it the way Carnal does.”

“Well then, I guess it’s a good thing you’re not a real fuckin' Mandalorian anymore.”

“Joel!” You snapped. 

Din was stiff but he didn’t respond to the dig. You turned in your seat and tried to think of a working plan. Joel was nearing your apartment by time you settled on the only one you could think of, “I have to go.” Joel stomped on the breaks of his truck, haphazardly parking in a spot in front of your apartment. “Joel⏤”

“You nearly died once today. That wasn’t enough?!”

“We can’t trust anyone else to go in!” You argued. “I think Nima has a few vampire friends. I can ask one to⏤”

Joel shook his head, “Some random bloodsucker that we don’t know. That’s who you want in that hellhole with you?” You sighed and pushed out of the truck. Joel climbed out after you, Din as well, but it was Joel who stomped after you while the armored man followed along. “Please tell me I don’t have to explain why that’s a terrible idea.”

“Then give me a better one, Joel!” You yelled back. You unlocked your front door, held it open, and then pointed inside like a scolding mother. Joel marched past you with a huff and Din quietly entered as well. You weren’t sure how the vampire could be so quiet while wearing the equivalent of pots and pans. You slammed the door behind you and tossed your keys aside. “So far, this is the only lead we got. Roberts said we need to talk to this guy and time is of the essence. The sooner we find him and get the information we need the sooner we get to the kids.”

Joel ran a hand through his hair and his anger was palpable. You knew it stemmed from frustration, but you could see the slight tremble of his body. Muscles quivering as slivers of yellow stained his dark eyes. He was pacing the floor and you hoped that expenditure of activity would keep him from transforming.

“I’ll go.” 

Your head snapped to Din who had spoken. You shook your head, “Din, you won’t exactly fit in at Carnal with the armor. Like I said, I’ll call Nima and see if she can get me in touch with a vampire⏤”

“No. The dog is right.” Din replied and Joel growled at the name. “This is dangerous. You need someone who will be useful if a fight breaks out.”

“She needs to not go at all!”

“If I go, I need a human.” Din argued. “The undercover agent, if there, will be in the back where…” Din hesitated, shifted foot from foot, before finally blurting the words out when he couldn’t think of anything better. “Where a vampire can play with its pet.”

Joel buried his face in his hands, “Jesus fuckin' Christ.”

“I can remove my armor for this.” Your eyes widened in surprise. His helmet turned to you. “Is there somewhere…”

You pointed to the door behind him that led into a small guest bedroom. Din nodded once before disappearing behind it. You stared at the door in surprise. Even though the Mandalorian coven said he was no longer one of them, it was clear from the short time you knew him that it was still an important aspect of himself.

“Sweetheart,” Joel said and you glanced back at him, the anger had melted into just frustration, “This is a bad idea.”

“It’s our only idea, Joel.” You sighed. “If we had something else, trust me I’d go for it. I’m not exactly looking forward to going into a vampire club.” The stories and rumors you heard about those places made your skin crawl. “But this is for the kids. I can do this.” Joel locked his jaw before giving a curt nod. “And Din will be right there to help if need be.”

Joel muttered something again in response to that. You crossed your arms as something dawned on you, “He’s gonna need clothes for the club.” 

Joel shrugged and motioned to himself, “What am I supposed to do? Give him the shirt off my back?”

You rolled your eyes at his snippy comment and told him to behave while you visited your neighbor. Across the hall from you was a young guy you saw in passing. The two of you weren’t exactly friends, but you were friendly. You’d pick up his mail when he was out of town, and he’d make sure no packages got stolen from your front door. He also happened to be around Din’s size and owned more than just flannel⏤ Joel’s staple wardrobe piece.

Your neighbor didn’t seem super psyched to see you knocking on his door a little past nine at night and looked even less pleased when you asked to borrow clothes. However, when you explained it was a bit of an emergency, leaving out the vampire and werewolf dilemma of it all, he begrudgingly offered you a simple suit.

When you returned to the apartment, you found Joel in the living room with his hands on his hips glaring at someone. You did a double take when you noticed Din. He had come out of the room sans armor and only had on the canvas material suit he wore under it. Din’s head turned to glance your way and you hadn’t expected to see such nervous energy in his features. It didn’t match the hard armor you had known him for. Din was handsome. No doubt. Enough so that you thought it a crime he’d been hiding it behind a helmet all these years. Tan skin, dark eyes, and equally as dark hair. As your eyes bounced between Joel and Din you were noticing a trend. Din looked younger with not a single strand of silver decorating his hair, and the messy hair atop his head was shorter than Joel’s. He also didn’t have nearly as much hair covering his jawline either. Just a bit of scruff. Joel looked bigger compared to Din who seemed on the slimmer side. Though it was hard to consider Din to be slim⏤ Joel was just huge.

“Wow.” You chuckled and pointed toward them. “You guys look a lot alike.” Joel and Din’s features both furrowed into different degrees of a glare as they looked back to one another then to you. “Seriously? You don’t see it?”

“Did you get the clothes or not?” Joel grunted.

You stared at them longer, still in awe. Whether they wanted to admit it or not the similarities couldn’t be denied. There was enough about them different that they stood apart from one another in more than just their physical features. Joel was radiating a gruff, grumpy demeanor that was far from approachable while Din currently leaned more toward a stoic nature. They both said your name and you startled.

“Right. Here, Din.” You held out the clothes. “I think they’ll fit.”

“They’re going to have to.” Din replied and the sound of his voice was so smooth without the helmet altering it. “Thank you.”

You gave him a thumbs up, lost for words, and backpedaled, “I should get ready too, I guess.”

Joel grumbled again about the bad idea, but even he seemed to realize there were very little other options. So, bad idea or not. It’s all you guys had.

It was past ten when you parked your car on the side of the road blocks away from where the entrance to the club would be. Din suggested you park at a distance and walk up to it rather than park close. Most of the time it took to get to this point was convincing Joel to go home and wait for the two of you to wrap this up. He wanted to sit on the street which seemed like an exceptionally poor idea. When you finally managed to convince him, it was only after he gave you his address and made you promise to come to his place after rather than your own. You thought a simple text of ‘I’m still living’ would be enough, you even joked so, but Joel didn’t appreciate it.

“So how long have you worn that helmet? Before tonight, I mean.” You asked curiously. As you walked side by side, a foot of distance separating the two of you, you squirmed and straightened your dress. Austin at night, towards the end of the year, had a slight chill in the air that left goosebumps pebbling up on your exposed skin. 

“I took the creed as a child.” Din replied. Vampires couldn’t have children except under very rare and specific circumstances. So Din, like any other Mandalorian, was adopted into the ranks. It was common with their coven which was one of the aspects that made them so unique to other covens. What confused you was taking the creed as a child.

“I thought taking the creed was synonymous to becoming a vampire? Kids don’t get turned though. Not legally, at least, and you wouldn’t look like…” You motioned to frame. Any child turned would never age and never develop.

Din shook his head, “Taking the creed is a separate action. By taking the creed you secure your place within the Mandalorian coven. The turning ceremony does not occur until one receives their first forge made armor.”

“Ah.” You nodded in understanding. “How long has it been since your ceremony?”

“Four years.”

Your feet came to a stop in surprise and Din glanced over his shoulder at you. His eyebrow was raised in question and he too squirmed in the clothes you had borrowed for him. You expected it was less the cold and more so the fit. The black suit jacket and button up shirt fit well enough, a bit tight around his shoulders, but his suit pants were a size too small based on how he kept readjusting himself. You shook your head, “Four years? You’ve only been a vampire for four years?” Din nodded as if still confused at your confusion. You began to walk again and mumbled, “I just expected you to be centuries old or something.”

Din chuckled, “Sorry to disappoint.”

There was a beat of silence before you spoke again, “Is this your first time without your helmet?”

“You ask a lot of questions.” Din said, voice sharp. You twisted your lips and mumbled an apology. Curiosity tended to get the best of you often, and it was kind of interesting to be able to speak to a Mandalorian. You should have remembered the circumstance though and left it alone.

“No.” You were surprised to hear Din’s response. “I’ve taken it off before. That’s why I am considered an Apostate.”

You assumed that referred to his lack of a Mandalorian title and the disdain the coven leader had spoken about him in. Despite that stripping of the title, you still mentally considered him Mandalorian. Though you knew that kind of statement might not sit right with him. 

“Can I ask…” You hesitated since he had already scolded you for asking questions, but then he had enabled you by answering. “Why did you take it off before?”

“For my son. For Grogu.”

Your lips curled up into a smile. “I see. You know, I actually don’t know much of anything about your son. I never got to actually read the full report. How old is he?”

“He…” Din paused. “He looks to be five.” You narrowed your eyes in thought of the very specific word choice he used. He continued, “As I said before, he has vampiric tendencies, but I don’t actually know his genetic lineage. He was… Our paths crossed when I was hunting a bounty eight months ago.”

A silence settled between the two of you again and you assumed that meant he wasn’t going to delve into the details of said bounty. You gripped the strap of your purse a bit tighter and shrugged, “You know, I don’t think it should count as breaking the creed if you’re taking the helmet off for a good reason. Like for your son.”

“The coven wouldn’t agree with you.” Din replied then after a paused added, “But thank you.”

After a few blocks, Din grasped your wrist and carefully tugged you to a stop.

“We can’t go in yet.” 

“Why not?”

“You smell like a dog.”

You blinked in shock then held a hand to your chest mockingly, “Well, gee golly, Din. You sure know how to sweet talk a woman.”

“It’s your riduur. He’s ruining your scent.”

“That’s the second time someone has commented on ruining my scent.” You grumbled, but the first half of his statement registered in your mind a second late. “Riduur??”

Din nodded, “Your mate.”

“No. I know what a Riduur is.” You shook your head. “I meant, Joel is not mine. He’s not my mate.”

The Mandalorian’s eyes narrowed at you as if he were trying to puzzle out a lie and you raised your eyebrows at him in question. Din cleared his throat, “I was told by the coven that you claimed he was your riduur.” 

“Oh!” You waved your hand. “I did, but that was only because I didn’t want them to kill him.” Din held your gaze and you shrugged. “I knew the bond between Riduur is not one taken lightly and I prayed it’d be enough to get both of us out alive.” Surprise flitted across Din’s features. You shifted nervously in place. “Guess I got lucky. Or⏤ Or Joel did, I should say.”

Din shook his head and you thought the vampire looked impressed. “Not luck. Quick thinking. That was clever.”

“I have my moments.” You chuckled awkwardly⏤ unsure how else to accept the praise from him.

“Still,” Din glanced around, “The point remains. You reek of Joel Miller. May I⏤” He cleared his throat. “May I scent you?”

You mouthed the word in slight confusion. Logically it made sense. Walking into a vampire exclusive bar smelling like a werewolf was probably not ideal. You just weren't sure what that entailed. “Um, sure?” Din stepped closer and you felt your heart do a somersault. Nervous. You were nervous. An apex predator was close enough to easily rip your throat out, not that you thought Din would, but your body was naturally reacting to that. That was all. “What⏤How⏤ Scent.”

Din stared down at you, close enough you had to tilt your head back to maintain eye contact, and you mentally cursed your inability to form a coherent sentence. Din’s lips began to curl up into a smile until he suddenly steeled his features with a small shake of his head. “The quickest way to correct your scent is if I put my lips on you.”

“Put your lips on… Oh.”

Din paused and when you didn’t reply he gave a small nod. He coughed, “So, is that alright?”

“Hmm?” You blurted. He was waiting for permission. “Yes. Sure. Okay.”

“Stay still. I give you my word, I mean you no harm.”

You began to open your mouth to reply when Din ducked down to the crook of your neck. His hot breath fanned against your skin and you felt yourself stiffen in response. You heard him take a deep breath. “Gar klesir jatisyc.” Din mumbled the words close enough that his lips brushed against your skin. A chill went down your spine. He stayed there a moment more and you softly spoke his name. Din seemed to startle and he mumbled again, “Ni ceta.”

His lips warmly pressed to the side of your throat, lingering there, and then he turned your head to do the same to the other. When he pulled back, your face felt like it was burning. Din cradled your left wrist to set a kiss there as well, and you felt the tip of his tongue drag against your skin. You gasped, but Din didn’t seem phased. He did the same to your right wrist. Before he released your wrist, he dragged a finger across the healing cuts on your palm. You had used one of your emergency healing salves rather than just the routine human store bought stuff⏤ both on the burns on your face and your hands. 

“I’m sorry.” Din mumbled. “I didn’t mean for you to get injured. I shouldn’t have…” He lifted his gaze and they fell on your neck. There was no bruise there from his hand but he stared as if there were. “I am sorry.”

“It’s okay, Din.” You shrugged.

He didn’t seem to agree, but he dropped your wrist and took a large step back. “That’s better. Nobody should be able to smell Joel unless they get close, and I don’t plan on letting any other vampire get that close.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded quickly. “I⏤ I do like that plan.”

Din let out a soft chuckle and motioned toward the sidewalk. Out of the corner of your eyes, you watched him. Stoic would’ve been the perfect word to describe, hell you had thought it not that long ago, but looking at him now you weren’t quite sure it fit. Din was shockingly easy to read. You could see nervousness in his brow, worry in his eyes, tension drawn along his features, and the downward curl of his lips conveyed anxiety. The thought lingered in your mind for a beat until it dawned on you why.

His helmet.

If Din had worn that helmet since he was a child he never had to worry about concealing his emotions. The metal did it for him. Your lips parted to comment on it, ask a question, when Din suddenly reached out toward you.

“We’re close.” He said. “Can I touch you?”

“Sure.” You nodded. Din’s arm wrapped over your shoulder so he could pull you into his side as you walked. Instinctively, you wrapped your own arms around his torso. The permission of touch had kind of been implied when you agreed to this plan together, but you found it cute that he still asked explicitly. “When we’re inside, it’s… it’s okay to touch me how you need to. I heard rumors about these kind of places, and I⏤ I trust you.”

Din furrowed his brow. Again, all his emotions of confusion and surprise drawn on his face. “You do?”

“Yeah. We’re a team, remember?” You chuckled.

“Right.” Din mumbled and focused his attention ahead. 

Being that you were already close, and getting closer with each step, you chose to keep your mouth shut and let Din lead. The alley he took you down was the exact kind you would avoid as a woman at night, but with Din wrapped around you there was little room for fear. At the end of the alley was a set of stairs that led down to a door that seemed would open into a basement. 

Curiosity rose up in you, that same eagerness for knowledge hungry for more, and you watched as Din lifted his thumb to his mouth to bite down at the tip. Black blood welled up there and he smeared it on the silver doorknob. It glowed briefly and Din was able to push it open.

“Cool.” You breathed without even realizing it. Din glanced your way and you realized you had spoken the excitement aloud and the back of your neck burned. 

The hall was nearly pitch black, but Din seemed to have no trouble navigating it. You were led down another set of spiraling stairs this time and as you got deeper into the Earth the sound of a booming bass began to vibrate around the two of you. You took in a slow breath to try and steady your nerves. Din squeezed your shoulders in comfort. It emptied out into a hall basked in red and the two of you were no longer alone. 

Eyes, glowing silver like an animal under the red lights, turned to stare. You could barely hear yourself think with the blasting music and the pounding of your heart in your ears as hungry eyes found you. Din tightened his grip on you again. You glanced up at him and your eyes widened at the silver glow of his own eyes⏤ narrowed into a glare that he aimed at the surrounding vampires. One of the others, a male dressed in a maroon suit that seemed brighter in this hall, stepped in front of the two of you. A low growl rumbled deep in Din’s throat as his teeth clenched together threateningly. 

“Calm down, buddy.” The man chuckled. “I mean your pet no harm.” He dragged his eyes over your body. It wasn’t the first time a creepy man looked at you in a way that made you feel like a meal, but this was the first time it was happening literally. “Just the two of you?” Din gave a curt nod. “And business?”

Din huffed. He turned to face you, pressing his face to the side of yours, and took in a deep breath that made you shudder. Din’s deep, hoarse voice let the next word roll off his tongue, as the hand from the arm wrapped around you found your hair and tugged it just enough to tilt your chin up and reveal your throat. “Pleasure.”

You swallowed, mouth suddenly dry, and the other vampire chuckled. “Go ahead. Enjoy.”

He stepped out of the way allowing you and Din to enter the club. It was one large room with various stages and levels. The entire space was dimly lit and certain areas had thick red curtains closing it off from public view. Directly in front of you was a dance floor. The throngs of people congested like a mob undulated with the best. Beyond it, on a stage, was a long and busy bar.

“You’re safe.” Din whispered the words in your ear, a chill shimmering down your spine, before he led your forwards. 

Din stayed focused on where you stepped and you were eternally grateful for that considering you were too distracted to pay attention yourself. Din curved around the dance floor, understandably so, but it forced the two of you to walk past lines of booths that encircled the space. A few booths looked no different than one you would sit in with Nima, drinking and chatting, but a few starkly different. One booth had a scantily clad woman laid mostly bare on the table as three or four vampires drank from her. A clear reminder that this was not your usual bar. The vampire drinking from the woman’s neck lifted her eyes to meet yours and you couldn’t help but curl tighter into Din’s side.

The bar was obviously the goal location and you were relieved when you finally reached it just because it was less intimidating than the rest of the club. The bartop itself was lit up bright white which made it possibly the most well lit area of the club. Din carefully maneuvered you onto a stool, but he didn’t sit himself. He stayed pressed against your side with one hand leaning on the bar and the other on your waist. It was a dominant stance. Protective. 

“What can I get you?” The vampire working the bar asked. Her eyes were reflecting the glow of the bartop and it gave the dark skinned woman an ethereal look. 

You opened your mouth to order, but Din squeezed your waist firmly. He nodded, “A shimmer.”

The bartender nodded and you raised an eyebrow in question. Din offered no further clarification. Instead, he pressed his lips to your ear. “We need to go to the back”

“Right. The pet zone.” You whispered.

“I suppose that’s one name for it.” No part of Din scared or worried you, but the words still managed to make you blanch in discomfort. You glanced back at the woman laid out on a table top, but Din shook his head. “She’s not a pet. Club owns her.”

You had ten thousand questions to ask, but were too worried to let a single one out. The bartender came back with a tall, slender glass. The liquid inside looked like the night sky. Black with silver glitter swirling inside of it. Din pushed the glass into your hands and paid for it. You lifted the glass to smell it and the aroma wasn’t something you could pinpoint exactly, but it made you think of the hot summer days where your mother would take you down to Barton Springs to cool off. Sunscreen lotion, sweet popsicles, and the carefree laughter shared between the two of you. A dizzying smile crossed your lips.

“Don’t drink it.” Din murmured into your ear as he helped you off the stool. “Just hold it.”

He began to walk you down the length of the bar. The further you pulled the drink from your face the more clear headed you felt. You stared into the swirling silver. “What is this?”

“Shimmer.” He repeated the name. “It’s used on pets. It’ll sweeten your blood.”

“Just smelling it made me feel like my head was in a cloud.” You mumbled. “And it smelled like…”

“Like a memory.” Din nodded. “A happy one.” The two of you reached a back corner where velvet curtains covered a doorway and a gruff man in a clean suit stood guard. “Adjustments make it easier to control a pet. You’ll notice everyone back here is probably on it.”

You had never heard of anything like this before and as Din led you closer to the guard you wondered how legal this stuff was. The guard studied the two of you for a minute, inhaling a deep breath that made you nervous. What if he caught a whiff of Joel on you? The anxiety was short lived though as he pulled the velvet curtain aside. 

The back room was even smaller⏤ cozier. There were booths with privacy curtains and another, smaller, bar in the back. Each booth had a curtain for the option of privacy, but not everyone used them. A young woman drifted over to speak to Din and as he responded your attention was pulled away by a fearful whimper. 

In one of the closest booths, there was a woman, close to your age, sitting on the lap of a vampire who physically looked significantly older than her. Her back was pressed to his chest as his teeth sunk into the crook of her neck. Tears streaked down her face as she whimpered. Her eyes were blown wide in terror as she stared at nothing⏤ just zoned out. You mumbled Din’s name in panic. You were under the impression the official vampire and pet relationship was consensual but this did not look the sort. The glass sitting on the table in front of them looked like yours, but it was nearly empty and rather than silver it had a purple shine to it. 

“She’s okay. I promise. She’s fine.” Din murmured and pulled you away. The woman he had been speaking to was leading you both to an empty booth.

All the booths looked uniform. Circular in shape, a low table in the middle, seats made of dark leather, and a red velvet curtain hanging from the ceiling to be used if needed.

"Keep the curtain closed if you're gonna fuck." The woman leading you said offhandedly. Din sat down and you were caught off guard when he pulled you to straddle his lap. A precarious position due to the short length of your dress. He waved a hand and the woman huffed before drawing the curtains herself. When they closed entirely a glowing sphere of light activated high above the two of you to offer light.

Din quickly readjusted to move you off his lap and he cupped your face to examine your features, “Are you alright?”

“I am. That girl⏤”

“Shiver.”

“What?”

Din took the cup from your hand to set on the table. “Yours is Shimmer. A happy memory. There are… other adjustments based on what they want to do to the blood’s flavoring.” You furrowed your brow in surprise. “Shimmer. Shiver. Simmer. Smolder.” He shrugged. “Those are the ones I can think of. I know there are more.” 

“Each one makes the blood taste different and they…” You thought back to how terrified the woman looked. “They evoke different memories.” He nodded. “So if Simmer is a happy memory…”

“Shiver is a memory of fear.”

You couldn’t imagine someone agreeing to relive a memory of nightmares just because a vampire had a taste for fear in the blood. Then again, up until now, you had never imagined agreeing to be a vampire’s pet. The wording of that thought gave you pause and you glanced away from the glass in your hands to Din’s face. He was watching you with concern and curiosity. You weren’t imagining being his pet. Not really. Not seriously at least. Not that you minded the idea of Din and his lips and teeth and tongue… Well, that wasn’t⏤ You weren’t⏤ It was⏤

“Jate’ika? Are you okay?”

“Just⏤ My brain is just, uh, nevermind.” You set the glass down on the table and pushed it further away from you. Were the fumes still invading your senses? What the hell? You cleared your throat. “Brancato. We gotta find him.”

Din nodded in agreement. “The sooner the better.” He stood up. “Stay here in the booth. I’ll be back.”

“You want to separate? In this vampire club??”

“The room is small. I can get back to you with ease if need be.” Din shook his head. “And I won’t be long. I just want to see if I can find the Agent.”

You twisted your lips but gave a quick nod. Din squeezed your hand and then slipped out of the curtain. You squirmed in your seat and smoothed out your dress nervously. You wished you had your gun. It would do nothing against a vampire, other than mildly annoy or irritate them, but you wanted the comfort of it on you all the same. A few moments passed before the curtains slid open and you were surprised by how quick he had been.

“Din⏤”

Din did not step in.

A different man burst through in a rush, but he was human like you. There was no animalistic glow to his eyes. He wore a navy sports blazer over a tight, gray v-neck with matching khaki dress pants. Around his neck was a leather collar that you’d find at a pet store. The man had a boyish look to him with messy, dirty blond hair and a clean shaven jaw. Freckles were brushed over the bridge of his nose and cheekbones. Oddly though, his gray blue eyes looked genuinely irritated with you.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?” He demanded in a hushed voice. He took a seat by you and set the drink in his hand next to yours. The lighting in this booth made the color hard to distinguish in the black liquid. “Are you out of your godsdamned mind showing up in this place??”

You lifted a hand to point at him with wide eyes, “Tim Brancato.”

“Shh!” He shushed you. “Call me Justin.”

“How do you know⏤”

“Roberts warned me you’d be looking for me, but he didn’t tell me you’d be stupid enough to show up here.” Tim scoffed. 

You were still curious as to how he recognized you so easily, but you had more important questions to ask and for some reason you were struggling to get a single one out. “Sorry. I’m glad we found you though, or⏤ or you found us, I should say.”

Time narrowed his eyes at you for a beat then shook his head, “Who are you here with?”

“My vampire.” You held a hand to your chest. “He’s a Mandalorian.”

“A Mandalorian came in⏤”

“Well, he’s not in armor right now. He’s⏤”

“Then he’s not a Mandalorian.”

“It’s⏤” You tilted your head with a wince, “It’s sort of a long story and we don’t have a lot of time⏤” His hands suddenly grabbed your face and you tensed. “Dude, what the fuck?”

Tim scoffed and let go, “You’re high.”

“No, I’m not.” You shook your head, though your head did feel a bit swimmy, “I didn’t drink the⏤ the shimmer.”

“Are you wearing a plug?” Tim demanded. You opened your mouth then froze⏤ eyes narrowing in confusion. There was a very solid chance that the plug he was asking about was not the kind you now had in mind. The back of your neck burned as you struggled to answer. He shook his head and reached into his coat pocket. “Lean your head back.” Without hesitation, you leaned your head back and as you stared up at the glowing light above you realized that maybe you shouldn’t be following the commands of someone you didn’t actually know. He grabbed the side of your face once more and held a dropper over your nose. Each drop he released into your nostrils felt thick and tacky and as it rolled deeper to coat your sinuses and reach the back of your throat, it gave the sensation of choking. “There.”

You straightened your head and began to cough, “What was⏤”

“They aerosolized an adjustment back here. Not enough to evoke a memory, but enough to impair judgment.” Tim responded. “That won’t get what’s in your system out completely, but it'll let it wear off while keeping you from getting any worse.”

“Oh, thanks.” You rubbed your nose in discomfort. “Putting that stuff in the air seems… questionable.”

Tim scoffed, “Look, some of the folks I see run through here have a healthy, consensual pet relationship, but I also see a lot of blurred lines as well. Just keep your guard up while you’re here, alright?” He shook his head. “Now, Roberts didn’t tell me why you were looking for me.” You nodded in confirmation and he lifted an eyebrow. “So?”

“Oh, uh, right.” You tried to collect your thoughts so you could pull them together. Tim rolled his eyes at you, and you felt a flare of irritation. You scoffed, “Hey, just give me a second here, my brain is filled with vampire fog right now.” Tim shrugged and continued to wait. You huffed, “The kids. The missing kids. All over Austin⏤ We’ve had a huge string of mixed kids disappearing, and the DMA isn’t investigating. Hell, they’re ignoring it! I confronted Roberts and he said he couldn’t help, but to find you because you can.”

Tim nodded his head slowly, humming in thought, then shook his head, “Can’t help.”

“Excuse me!?” You cried. The curtain was snapped open and you jumped in place until your eyes landed on Din. The Mandalorian tensed with a glare leveled at Tim, but you felt yourself relax marginally just having him near. You motioned to the man sitting beside you, “It’s him.” Din nodded, saying nothing further, and you focused back on Tim. “Now, what the hell do you mean you can’t help?”

“Roberts never said he was sending you to me for this.” Tim scoffed. “I’m not interested in helping.” Din stepped forward, arms crossed, and the glare he leveled at the undercover agent was deadly. Tim scoffed, but you did see the stiffening of his spine, “You gonna sick your big, bad vampire on me?”

“No. But I’ll tell your vampire that your name isn’t really Justin.” You threatened.

Tim’s eyes narrowed briefly, but a slow smirk crossed his features, “You wouldn’t do that. It’s a death sentence for me and I can tell you’re not the kind to ruin a man’s life.”

Unfortunately, he wasn’t wrong. You wanted to be. For the sake of Ellie and Grogu and every other kid taken from their parents, you wished you could. There was a lump in your throat keeping the words trapped in your chest and Tim saw it clear as day. 

Din hummed, “She’s too good of a person to kill you, but I’m not.” The Mandalorian grabbed Tim by the lapels of his jacket and yanked him off the booth. Tim grabbed the vampire’s hands, but he was no match for Din’s strength. “You’re gonna talk, and you better hope we like what you have to say. Otherwise, it’s not the other vampires you’re gonna have to worry about, human.”

“Just give it up. It’s over now.” Tim hissed. “The kids missing are gone, but it’ll be years before more get taken.”

Din snarled as you stood up with wide eyes, “What does that mean??”

Tim didn’t get a chance to answer. The curtains swung open to reveal two beefy men dressed like the vampire guarding the entrance to this back room. Security. Din didn’t release the agent, but both men froze in surprise. 

“There’s been a noise complaint. What is the meaning of this??” One demanded.

Tim didn’t respond, mouth agape, and Din remained silent as well. His hands tightened in their grip on the man’s lapels. Your eyes darted between them both a second more before rushing forward. You stepped under Din’s arm, forcing him to drop his grip on Tim, and laid your own hands on his chest. With a frown and a shake of your head, you let the nervous energy you felt slip into your tone. “He just came in and wouldn’t leave me alone.” 

Instinctively or not, Din wrapped his arms around you and shifted so his body blocked you from Tim and the two security guards. Tim narrowed his eyes at you, jaw locking, but he wasn’t in the position to deny it. His only other excuse would be he was talking about the DMA. One of the security guards grabbed him by the upper arm, “Who do you belong to?”

“Ranzar Malk.” Tim sighed.

The two guards grunted before dragging Tim away from your booth. Din’s hands tightened around you as he whispered, “Jate’ika, are you alright?”

“No, I’m annoyed.” You mumbled. “That got us nowhere, Din.”

“I think we should leave.”

“Absolutely not.” You shook your head. “We need to find out what he meant.”

“He’s a pet to Ranzar.” Din said firmly and began to tug you out. “We can’t stay.”

You were trying to puzzle out the significance of that. It wasn’t a big enough name that it stood out to you, but you weren’t overly familiar with the vampire circles. You allowed Din to tug you forward, but one of the guards from before slid into your path.

“Ran would like to see you.”

Din cursed then shook his head, “We’re not interested.”

“It wasn’t a request, newcomer.” The guard grunted. 

He turned to lead, and Din pulled you tight into his side then followed. This would give you the opportunity to address Tim again, though it’d be difficult in front of the vampire Tim was serving. Maybe if Din could distract this Ran then you could do something? 

The booth the two of you were led to was much larger than the one you and Din shared. Oval in shape with three small, circular tables in front of it to hold drinks. You spotted multiple vampires lounging in the booth with their humans surrounding them. You tried to avoid making direct eye contact with the ones being actively bitten. The sight of it just seemed to make your skin crawl. At what you would consider the head of the booth sat a heavy set man. He leaned back with one arm resting on the back of the booth. Thick, wavy gray hair went past his shoulders to match the thick beard he sported, and the color also matched the animalistic glimmer to his eyes. Tucked against his side, under the arm outstretched, was a human woman. She wore a tight, pink dress with a draped collar held around her neck with a gold chain. Her blonde hair, so light it looked white under the lights, was stick straight down her back and the freckles across the bridge of her nose were also decorated with glitter she had painted across it. On his other side, kneeling on the ground by the man’s boot like a dog was Tim.

“Oh, you’re a cute thing.” The vampire, Ran you were assuming, cooed at you. “No wonder my pet couldn’t leave you alone.” Ran’s eyes dragged up and down your figure slowly. You leaned against Din just as he tightened his hold on you. “Don’t worry, pretty girl, I mean you no harm. Just wanted to apologize to your master.” Ran’s eyes snapped to Din and his lips stretched out into a grin. “I train my pets to behave better than Justin did tonight. Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to bother your little toy.”

Din gave a tight nod. There was actual anger in the set to Din’s brow, an emotion you didn’t fully understand, and the tension in his frame was obvious. He was holding you so tight that it was beginning to become uncomfortable.

“My name is Ranzar Malk, but you can call me Ran.” He chuckled. “You’re new here, aren’t you?” Din didn’t respond and you squirmed uncomfortably. “What is it? You have a problem with me? I’ve already apologized for my pet’s behavior. Don’t be a dick. We’re all friends here.”

When Din still didn’t respond, you nervously chimed up, “We’re just passing through⏤”

“He wasn’t speaking to you, blood bag.” A woman hissed. Her black hair was tied off into two high pigtails that would look silly on any other person, but the cruel grin on her face somehow made it look terrifying. She pushed to stand and drifted closer as if to grab you, “Hasn’t anybody taught you your place⏤”

“Don’t fucking touch her.” Din snarled and pulled you back so you were hidden behind him.

The woman hissed at him in anger, but Ran waved his hand, “Xi’an! Sit your ass down.” She glared at Din but finally dropped back into her seat roughly yanking a petite brown skinned woman onto her lap to drink from. Ran shook his head, “I know your voice. Why do I know your voice?” Din stayed silent and now kept you behind him, entirely hidden from the man. A low chuckle filled the air, “Wait a minute, wait a minute. No way. Mando?? Is that you??”

“Holy shit.” A different vampire off to the side, a man with a shaved head, pulled his fangs out of a woman’s wrist to chime in. “Nuh uh.”

“It is. That’s fucking Mando.” Ran laughed. “You’re dressed down tonight, friend.”

“I’m not your friend.” Din snapped.

“This is rich.” The man with the shaved head, mouth painted red with blood, chuckled. “Where’d that shiny armor go, metal man?”

“Come on. Sit. I insist.” Ran motioned to the spot beside him. “For old times’ sake.”

Din hesitated and you squeezed his arm once in encouragement. You didn’t know the history here, and you hated that these people that Din clearly did not care for were seeing his face, but neither of you could leave without more information from Tim. Otherwise this was a waste. He’d have taken his helmet off for nothing. Finally, Din stepped forward to sit down in the seat offered to him. He tugged you into the seat on his side away from Ran and Xi’an and closer to the other man. Apparently he was the lesser of the three evils.

“I didn’t think Mandalorians kept pets.” Ran teased. “Thought it was beneath your kind.”

“Well, can’t you see, Ran?” Xi’an lifted her lips from the woman on her lap’s neck. “He’s not a Mandalorian anymore apparently.” Din stiffened again. “Pretty boy seems possessive over the girl. Is that why you gave up the tin can helmet?”

Ran chuckled, “For him to give up that precious creed, her blood has gotta be something special.” He motioned toward you and spoke as if you weren’t even there. “You fucking her too, Mando?”

Xi’an scoffed with a mocking sneer, “Ran, can��t you remember? Mando don’t like pussy.”

“The way I remember it, it’s just your pussy he don’t like, Xi’an.” The man beside you laughed. Xi’an bared her fangs and snarled at him. Ran laughed along with the man who spoke and you hated every second of this. Din was trying to keep his face straight, but the hatred in his eyes was clear and just being here in this group made you uncomfortable for him. 

Ran hummed, his gaze on you again, “You know, after all the jobs I kicked your way, Mando, I feel like you kind of owe me.”

“No.” Din spat the single word out in a dangerous, dark tone. 

“You don’t even know what I was gonna suggest!” Ran chuckled.

“I know enough about you to guess.” Din snarled. Even as someone who didn’t know the vampire, you could read a room enough that his tone made you blanch in disgust. Your eyes darted to Tim who you found was already staring at you. His eyes darted down to his hand then back up to you. A pointed look. You glanced down and he opened his palm just enough for you to see a single stick, small syringe of something dark red. Dead man’s blood? It looked like the vampire sedatives made at the DMA. When you met Tim’s gaze again they darted to Ran.

A terrible, terrible, terrible idea came to mind. You lifted your head up to press your lips to Din's ear and murmured quiet enough that only he’d hear. “Suggest a trade. Me for Tim.” Din didn’t want to turn his head to you, but the grip he suddenly had on your thigh was enough to show his distaste. You sighed. “Trust me?”

“What’s the little lady whispering about?” Ran teased.

Din didn’t immediately answer. You didn’t think vampires could be nauseous, but that was the best way to describe the brief look that crossed Din’s face. Finally, he spoke in a tense tone. “I’ll trade.”

“No shit?” Ran guffawed. “Alright. You want little Alana here?” The girl leaning against Ran offered Din a small wave, a quirk to her lips making it clear she enjoyed her position here to some degree. “She’s a fun one.”

Din shook his head, “Him. I want him.”

“Justin?” Ran asked. Din nodded. “Hell, alright. That’s not usually what I use this one for, but he’s getting punished tonight regardless.” Ran grabbed Tim by the hair and pulled his head back with a glare. “He’ll behave real good for you since I know he doesn’t wanna piss me off more.”

Ran shoved Tim away and he rose to his feet. You stood as well to shimmy past the tables and in passing you felt him discreetly push the vial into your hand. Din stood behind you, his hands on your waist, and Ran shouted a biting comment to the other two vampires before motioning for you and Din to follow along. Din’s fingers dug into your skin as you got closer to some smaller, more private booths, and you had a feeling he was tempted to grab you and run. 

Ran stopped and pointed to a booth to the left, “All yours, Mando.” The large vampire reached out to you with a sickening grin and when you tried to step toward him Din wouldn’t let go. You shot him a glance over your shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll take real good care of her. You just enjoy your time with mine, yeah?”

Din finally released you and you took in a shaky breath before stepping closer to Ran. He set a hand on your lower back before ushering you into the booth across from the one he offered Din. The moment you were in, he tugged the curtain closed. With Din out of sight, your anxiety began to rise to new highs. Ran hummed and sat down on the booth with a grunt. He eyed you hungrily, “Mando certainly has good taste. You smell sweet, honey.” Ran gave his thigh a pat and you bit back a wave of disgust. “Come to daddy.”

You set your purse down and crossed the space to him. This was for the kids. This was for Joel and Din. This was for a cause bigger than you. Steeling yourself, you carefully straddled his lap and his bare hands grasped the back of your thighs to drag up and grope your ass. Bile tried to claw up your throat as a wave of nausea overtook you. It took all your power to not gag and flinch at his touch.

“You look so nervous, honey.” Ran cooed. You forced a tight lipped smile then leaned forward to rest your arms on his shoulders. He squeezed your ass again, “Now, that’s better.”

Ran buried his face where your shoulder met your neck and inhaled deeply. A groan slipped from his lips and you felt his tongue drag up your skin to right under your jaw. He leaned in closer and you wrapped your arms around him tighter⏤ adjusting the syringe in your hand accordingly. When you felt a sharp fang nick at your skin, you buried the needle into the flesh at the back of his neck. Ran shoved you back furiously and you only barely caught yourself before falling to the ground.

“You bitch⏤” Ran muttered, but his eyes were already fluttering. His head collapsed back against the booth as his entire body sagged into the seat. 

It was only then that you realized you were panting. There was a tremble in your hands that you tried to shake away as you straightened your posture. Disgusted, you rubbed at your neck desperately trying to rub away his saliva and touch.

Quickly, you grabbed your purse and ducked out of the curtain. Nobody seemed to notice when you took the few steps to slip through the curtains of the booth across from you. You had only barely stepped in when familiar hands grabbed you.

“Told you she’d figure it out.” Tim hummed from where he sat on the booth casually.

Din rubbed your arms and shook his head, “Did he hurt you?” His hand lifted to your neck and his eyes widened when you felt his thumb brush against a tender spot. “You’re bleeding.”

“I’m fine, really.” It felt like you had said that a lot today for a lot of very absurd situations.

“That was a shit idea. I never should’ve let you do that.” Din scoffed.

“To be fair, I knew it was a terrible idea.” You gave him an awkward smile. “But it worked.”

Din sighed and looked like he was prepared to argue with you on that opinion. You stepped past him to sit beside Tim. Din joined you and you were caught off guard when he settled his hand around the back of your neck⏤ cradling it softly. The weight and warmth were oddly a comfort that helped distract from the unwelcome touch you were still trying to forget.

“Alright, talk.” You snapped. “What did you mean by what you said earlier?”

Tim heaved a sigh but crossed his legs and nodded, “This isn’t a new problem. Since the DMA was established, this has been occurring.” You opened your mouth to argue, but he shook his head. “It’s usually every decade or so, but in the past it was done with more precision. Only a few kids were taken and their disappearances separated with enough time to avoid suspicion. Taken from different locations too.”

“Taken for what and by who?!” You demanded.

“How much do you know about the people who established the DMA?”

“It was the Weston family and they worked with the Olympians to create an agency that would benefit the supernatural world.” You replied. “They were the original founders.”

Tim nodded, “That’s the who.”

“The… The Weston family?” You shook your head. “Seriously?” Tim nodded again. There were portraits on the wall painted in the honor of the original members of the DMA in the lobby of the building. That’s the connection Miles Jackson had relation wise. He was the great grandson to one of the Weston members still on the board. Other than him though, you had never seen any of these people in person. “But… But why??”

Tim shrugged, “Humans work with the gods long enough, they start to wonder, ‘Why can’t I be immortal too?’” Your eyes widened at the implication. “It’s a ceremony. You can’t create new energy, only transfer it. They take it from the kids and it buys them a decade.”

“Humans did this??” Din snapped.

You held a hand out and shook your head, “This is… There is no way people just let this happen. You know all this and yet you do nothing?? Roberts knows this!?”

“You’re young. You’re naive.” Tim said with a scoff. “So I’ll forgive you for not understanding. This is bigger than all of us. The Weston family? They aren’t to be trifled with. And if a few kids every decade is the price to pay to appease them then it’s worth it.”

“Not to the parents of the kids they stole!” You snapped.

Tim held your gaze for a long moment, glanced at Din as well, then sighed again. “The reason I know is because I used to be a Captain. This is the kind of information only high ranking officials get let in on. When I first found out, I was disgusted. I wanted to fight it. But a battle against that family isn’t the kind you win.” He shook his head. You felt light headed at the news⏤ dizzy even. The room felt like it was beginning to tilt. “That’s why I gave up my status and took a role in the undercover scene.”

“You ran is what you did.” You pushed the words out forcefully while glaring at him. “You and Roberts both. You’re cowards.”

“You can’t save the world. It’s not meant to be saved. Terrible shit happens all the time and all you can do is protect your own and hope for the best.” Tim said.   

There was a buzzing in your purse that made you pause. You glanced down to pull out your phone. Meanwhile, Din’s hand squeezed your neck lightly as he spoke up. “Where are they?” There was a growl underlying his voice. “Where is my son?”

“I’m not privy to that stuff anymore, but I know they’d need a big, empty space. Someplace abandoned.” Tim shrugged. You read your screen and saw Joel had sent a number of texts asking about what was going on. The words blurred as you tried to read them. You squinted to focus, but the only thing on your screen big enough to be read clearly were the numbers ‘11:55’ in big font on the front of your screen. “Is that Joel? As in Joel Miller?” Your head snapped up in surprise. Tim blinked at you then tilted his head. “You’re working with Joel Miller. Really?”

“So?”

Tim shrugged, “I just didn’t expect that after what happened to your mom.”

The room began to spin and it felt like you were sinking⏤ your limbs felt heavy. You struggled to speak, “What⏤ What are you… I⏤ I…”

“Hey.” Tim leaned forward and titled your head to look into your eyes. You heard Din murmur your name. “Hey. Stay with me. Did Ran make you drink something?” You shook your head, but even Tim was difficult to see now. Your skin felt hot. Hot enough that you wanted to peel it off your muscles and bone⏤ strip yourself into nothingness. “Did he touch you?” 

Din’s hand on the back of your neck, which was once a comfort, made the heat worse. You tried to shake it off, but he didn’t budge. Din spoke, “What’s wrong with her?”

“Get her up. Check her skin.”

You felt Din drag you up and hands brushed against your arms, neck, shoulders, and legs. There was a pinch along your thigh as if someone was picking something off. Din held a little black square in his fingers and you felt woozy while standing. “What is this?”

“He drugged her. She should be fine with it off, but she’s gonna wake up with a nasty headache.” Tim shook his head and stood as well. “You should get her out of here. Fresh air might help.” You watched with unfocused eyes as Din tucked your phone into your purse, wrapped it around you, and then gripped your side to help you stand. Tim chuckled. “You know, Roberts was right. You would’ve made a good Agent.”

That was the exact opposite of what Roberts had told you, and days prior it would’ve made you preen with pride at the statement. However, now it just left you with a gross feeling you couldn’t attribute to the drugs. “I don’t want anything to do with the DMA.”

Tim gave a small shrug and you watched him disappear out the curtain with a mumbled ‘good luck’. 

Din was quick to drag you out and traveling through the club again was a blur of noise and light. It wasn’t until chilly night air filled your lungs that the blurriness began to alleviate marginally, but in its place was a heaviness of your body, mind, and heart. You felt Din scoop you up, but as you stared up at the sky you got lost in the stars.

Mando'a Translations:

Gar klesir jatisyc. [you smell delicious.] Ni ceta. [Sorry.]

For notifs on updates, as I no longer do taglists, please follow @theidiotupdates

Banners by @cafekitsune

#the mandalorian #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #joel miller #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #din djarin x female reader #vampire!din djarin #werewolf!joel miller

[cyborg-franky]

hello!! I saw that you have requests open, so...

can i request scenario law x f!reader with ASL as her overprotective brothers? modern!au if possible!! I also don't know English very well, so forgive me if there are mistakes in the text(( you can ignore it if you don't like it!!

thanks in advance for your reply!! (≧◡≦) ♡

Oh this seemed fun so I decided to do it. I hope you enjoy but I don't do female readers <3 hope thats okay.

GN Reader X Law SFW

You had been dating Law a little while, a few weeks and it had recently started to become serious which meant it was time for him to meet your brothers.

Not by blood, but the three men always acted like your older brothers, always being over protective and keeping an eye on you.

You hoped Law would do well, pass their critical judgment.

“So, anything I should know?” Law asked as you stood outside the apartment door, you looked at him for a moment, you didn’t think anything would prepare him for how the three were and you also didn’t want to scare him off.

“Nah, just take your shoes off when you get in,” You saw the puzzled look on his face when you nervously chuckled and fumbled with the keys.

Once inside you saw the three. Luffy was at the counter stuffing leftover pizza into his mouth while Sabo made himself tea in the kitchen area.

Ace was flopped on the couch, watching TV.

Law soon found all eyes on him, like he’d stepped foot into a raptor enclosure.

He kept his cool, he didn’t falter under the gazes of all three.

“Tra-guy!” Luffy yelled, spitting out pizza as he recognised Law.

Law winced and you could tell his balls jumped back inside his body at the shrill greeting from Luffy, seemed they already knew one another and that was going to be a story for another day. One huge wall at a time.

“Ace, Sabo, Luffy, this is my boyfriend, Law.” You introduced as you slipped off your shoes, watching Law do the same as he eyed up Luffy with an annoyed expression on his face. Oh yeah, he for sure knew Luffy.

In a blink of an eye Sabo and Ace descended on him. Both slapping a hand hard and firm on each shoulder, giving Law a scrutinizing gaze.

“How did ya both meet?” Ace started the interrogation, looking down his nose at Law, or trying to. Law was taller.

“We both go to the same coffee shop and got talking.” You explained.

“How long have you known each other?” Sabo asked, making sure Law could see all his scars  along his face and neck, trying to come across as intimidating but to his credit, Law held fast.

“Like two months?” You replied and looked from Ace to Sabo and back at Luffy who was still eating.

“Tra-guy is a good guy, he won’t do anything to them, you don’t need to worry!” Luffy stood up for Law, whose shoulders sagged when Sabo and Ace looked over at Luffy, processing what he’d said, backing off a little.

“Really?” Both asked and Luffy nodded, mouthful of food.

“Alright, Law,” Ace said, sniffing and backing down, folding his arms over his chest, still trying to size him up as Sabo also backed down “But if anything happens to kiddo here, we will be the first to know.” Ace added and Sabo nodded. 

The killing intent behind the smiles that Ace and Sabo both plastered on their faces was enough to make Law agree to anything.

Once out the apartment Law sighed and looked at you.

“They were joking right?”

“Oh? Ace maybe, but not Sabo. My exe still doesn’t trust his breaks.” you said like it was nothing, taking his hand and pulling him down the hall.

“W-wait? What?”

“Don’t worry! Anyway, how do you know Luffy?” you simply got a groan in reply.

#asl brothers #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #law op #law x you #law x yn #law x reader #law x yourname #portgas d. ace #sabo #monkey d luffy #modern au #sfw #gender nuetral reader #one piece x reader #platonic ace #platonic sabo #platonic luffy #trafalgar law x you

[lucky-bucky-boy]

Arrogance Incarnate

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Summary: Loki and you don’t get along, at all. It’s infuriating and frustrating, except in the few moments where it’s pure bliss.  Inspired by @lokisgoodgirl series Hostile F*cks that I stumbled upon a few days ago.

Word Count: 2859

Warnings: Slight angst, smut, dom/sub elements, angry fuck, pet names, open-ended ending

A/N: This post does not have any of my taglist added as my taglist is now 2 years outdated. I hope you all enjoy this piece as I certainly enjoyed writing again. Let me know what y’all think!

This is set as if everything is happy and okay, everyone lives in the compound together. Also, inspired by @lokisgoodgirl​ Hostile F*cks series that I stumbled upon the other day!

I do not own these characters. Do NOT repost my writing and/or fics anywhere without my written permission. Reblogs are welcomed and highly appreciated!

No one really comprehended how it got like this, some days it was better not to ask and just ignore it. It didn't start out this way, quite the opposite as a matter of fact; all warm welcomes and soft smiles inevitably turned into agitated sighs and annoyed eye rolls. 

You couldn't help it though. He had become absolutely infuriating; too sure of himself, too cocky, too arrogant… Too Loki. 

Nat sat beside you at the kitchen island, finishing up her food as the time neared for her to leave. Majority of the team had been assigned a mission, they wouldn't be gone for long - only 2 or 3 days - but it required a lot of manpower to assure no one got hurt. You'd been on the last few big missions so Tony let you sit this one out, figuring you'd enjoy some peace and quiet.  

But peace and quiet was the last thing you would get. Since this mission requires the most finesse, the assurance that no one would make an abrupt move, that no one would steer away from the plan, Loki had also been chosen to sit this one out. 

"I really hope you guys get back sooner rather than later," you huffed, picking at the last bit of the fruit in your bowl. 

Nat chuckled softly, shaking her head at your complaints, "Try not to kill each other while we're gone. Spiderboy is hanging back too if you need someone to occupy you."

You rolled your eyes, standing up to clean up your dishes and taking hers with you, "Peter is an MIT student, has to travel between here and Boston every 4 weeks, has a girlfriend, is working on suit upgrades, and has friends in the city he hasn't seen in months. I doubt I'm the first person on his list of people to 'occupy'."

Nat followed you, rubbing her hand along your back as you stood at the sink cleaning the dishes. "Well, take yourself out, or have a movie night. Maybe rearrange your room like you've been talking bout. Or find a good lay." She teased at the end. 

You shook your head, turning the water off and shaking your hands of the water, "Yeah yeah, I know. But I'd rather spend my time sitting in the same room as you, playing on my switch, and bitching about the same shit over and over. But I'll live. You, however, need to get going before Steve decides to come searching for you."

She sighed, an apologetic look spreading across her features. "I know. But, we're still on for that brunch and spa spot next week. I'll text you updates, okay?" 

You nodded, watching as she turned and made her way to the meeting room for debriefing. 

This was going to be a long few days. 

You started making your way to your room, intending to grab a book then head out to sit by the pool. But you didn't make it far, hearing Thor's booming voice echoing off the walls. You stopped, hating yourself immediately for being interested in the conversation, but nonetheless you stayed out of sight. 

"Be nice to her, brother. She was the only one kind to you when we arrived. Surely, you must appreciate that enough to think about your actions."

Loki's sigh was sharp and loud, "For the last time, Thor, how I treat our fellow colleagues," there was a tinge of disgust in his voice that turned your face sour at hearing it, "has very little to do with you. Besides, this back and forth between (Y/N) was started by her. For being the one who was kindest to me, she's the only one now who is constantly irritated by my very presence."

It was true. You hated to admit it, but every word was true. Shaking your head, you kept moving, trying you best to make it seem like you hadn't been listening in. 

When Thor and Loki had decided to make Asgard their new home, things were rough. Loki's history with Earth made it so that S.H.I.E.L.D required them to live with the Avengers for two years. Any trips he made outside the compound had to be supervised for the first 6 months, then slowly he could gain trust. 

Their arrival was almost a year ago. You had heard the many stories of Loki, mostly bad with Thor sprinkling in some good. It became glaringly obvious to you that something had to be happening at the time the others had met him, that pieces of information were missing for you to understand fully why Loki attacked New York. Sure, you didn't want to immediately dismiss the concerns, but you wanted him to feel like he had someone there who didn't hate him. 

And it did begin that way, a friendly introduction, showing him books, introducing him to movies and songs. There were countless times in the beginning where Loki and you were almost inseparable. 

Then the missions started, and irritation started. He was too brazen, making bold moves without discussion. More than once he had put you in a predicament where you could have gotten hurt. There was this one mission in particular, you were undercover in a club trying to collect information, Loki was your watch - the person you had been talking to had gotten a little too close, nothing you weren't expecting, but Loki apparently felt it was too much. The two of you had to rush out after Loki left the guy with a broken nose. 

Sure, it became frustrating to work on missions with him, but it didn't become bad at home until after he was able to leave the compound on his own. 

One night, admittedly after too many glasses of wine, you had made your way to Loki's room with the full intention of trying to flirt your way into a date with him. He was tall, stunningly gorgeous, playful, and caring. You had spent a lot of time with him, movie nights that kept you up late, stories being passed back and forth. But just as you were about to knock on his door, there was a loud, high pitched, nasally moan of his name. It was a voice you didn't recognize, your blood running instantly cold as your hand hovered over the door.

It was that moment that things turned bad. You had made an backhanded remark the next day, and Loki being Loki reciprocated. Every day another verbal dagger thrown until the two of you couldn't be in the same room together. 

Tony had even put you two on an easy mission together, hoping that somehow you two would have it out and things would improve, but that didn't work. It just made things worse. 

You did have it out though. The first times of many you would truly have it out with Loki. No one had noticed or caught on, not that either of you were aware of. You truly couldn't stand him anymore unless he was seated to the hilt in you, or if his piercing eyes were darkening between your thighs, or his hands roaming every inch of your body. 

How would anyone catch on? Outside of your bedroom, the two of you barely even spared a glance to each other and the ones you did were out of sheer agitation. No lingering words or flirty smiles. And the only time you found him in your bed was after weeks of build up from bickering and arguing. 

You closed your door behind you, sighing deeply to try to put your roaming thoughts at bay. This was truly going to be a long few days. 

The weather couldn't have been better, but the moment you stepped outside the desire to be anywhere but on a bed or couch went out the door. You stood there for a moment, taking in the warmth of the sunshine and the soft breeze of air that allowed a reprieve from the heat. The jets of the teams leaving soared overhead. With yet another sigh you turned on your heels, heading back inside. 

Opting to head back to your room, you passed the living quarters again where Loki had taken home for the day. Your footsteps passing brought his attention from the book in his hands, watching with slight amusement as you moved through the compound. 

"Having troubles making up your mind?" He called to you. 

Another huff and roll of the eyes, but you kept moving, ignoring the God's taunt. 

You hadn't been in your room long before the door flew open, startling you. Loki stood there, annoyance written on his face. "No one else is here, so must you continue to pretend to hate me to my core?"

Words left you, unsure of what to say or how to feel. This was bold of him, he'd hadn't come to your room without warning before, and truly you did expect to just ignore each others existence for the next few days. 

"I asked you a question." He let himself in, shutting the door behind him as he stalked his way to stand above you at the end of the bed. 

"Pretend?" You asked, voice soft and throat dried. You hated the effect he could have on you - the smell of him, of leather, musk, and mint overwhelming your senses. 

"Are you saying you're not pretending?" His eyebrows were raised. 

You huffed, rising from your sitting position to your knees. "Loki, I can assure you, that pretending would be much less exhausting."

"Darling, don't act like there isn't a part of you that wants me." You swallowed hard, staring up at him. Of course you wanted him, you wanted him in more ways than you would admit. Loki stared back, "If you're not pretending, then why do you hate me?" His voice was almost teasing. 

"You're arrogant. You're arrogant to the point that you are blinded by it." You stated.

"That's it? Did the little pet get her feelings hurt by something I said? Or was it something I did?" He teased, punctuating the end of his sentence by carding his hands through your hair and tugging tightly. 

"I am the God of Mischief after all, darling. You truly didn't think that I wouldn't be a little unhinged, did you?" He tugged your hair back, forcing a gasp out of you as he started to move you to a lying position, him hovering over top of you, "We both know there's a part of you that still loves it. If you didn't, you wouldn't have your legs wrapped around my waist right now, you wouldn't moan my name so wantonly, you wouldn't even let me anywhere near your pretty little pussy." 

Loki used his leverage of his hand in your hair to turn your head, kissing at the sensitive skin of your neck. "Admit it," he said between kisses, "admit you want me, darling."

A chill ran down your spine. You hated it, the second he was on top of you, you had instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, your hands now carding in his hair. You were already getting wet, trying your best to hold back any whines or moans. 

Loki didn't like you ignoring him. He bit down on the junction between your neck and shoulder, sucking hard and undoubtedly leaving a mark. He pulled back, "if you want me to satisfy you, you need to admit it."

His hand left your hair, both of them moving to roam across your body. The moved under your shift, cold fingers causing goosebumps to spread across your skin. He didn't say anything as he continued on, hands moving to cups your breasts, thumbs rubbing over your nipples through the fabric of your bra. 

He was going to tease until you admitted it. Loki's hips rocked slowly against you, relishing in listening to you whine and whimper, your own hips trying to run against him, your core getting hot with need. His lips continued their assault on your neck, careful not to leave any marks too high up. 

Suddenly, your shirt was gone, Loki using it magic to take it off. His mouth move to your shoulder, leaving an array of purple and blue there, making his way further down and nipping at the top of your chest. 

"Please," you whined, pulling at his hair, "Please Loki."

He chuckled against your skin, hands snaking behind you to undo your bra, taking notice of the goosebumps thay spread across your skin from the feel of his hands on you. "Admit you want it. You know what you have to say."

You whined, squirming as he pulled up some to discard your bra. Immediately, his mouth attached to your nipple, flicking and sucking the sensitive bud as his hand moved to toy with the other one. He switched back and forth, your moans like music to his ears. 

Moans were spewing out of you, hips rutting harder and fast. "Damn it, Loki, stop the teasing and just fuck me if that's what you came in here to do." You managed to choke out. 

Loki pulled away from your chest, both hands playing with your nipples now. "I came here to teach you a lesson. Now, admit you want it." 

"I want it," you finally blurted out, feeling like you were going crazy with need. "I want you, Loki. Please just fuck me."

"Good girl," suddenly, all of your clothes were gone. He sat back on his legs, looking down at you for a few moments. "Heavens, you're still just as ravishing to look at."

His were gone now as well and he leaned back down, capturing your lips in his. It happened so quickly, him moving your calves to his shoulders, lining his cock up with your core, pushing in slowly as your lips moved against each other feverishly. 

Loki pushed himself all the way in, staying still once he was fully seated, watching the look of ecstasy on your face, eyes screwed shut and mouth slightly agape. It was a look he would never get tired of. 

He waited until you looked up at him to pull out and shove himself back in, setting a pace that rattled you inside out. He moved one of your legs down to his waist, angling his hips and moving a hand to rub your clit. 

Loud moans fell from you, echoing off the walls and sounding like songs in his ears. He kept at it, feeling your walls spasm, watching you feeling at him. 

A wave of confidence ran through you, moving your other leg back down to his waist, you sat up as best as you could, carding a hand through his hair and pulling him back down to kiss him. You move your lips to his neck, making sure his would match yours in color. Hands moving along his lean body. 

Pressure began to build, his relentless pursuit of both your high starting to become successful. Your free hand moved to his back, scratching against the pale expanse of skin and leaving bright red marks in your wake. 

Suddenly, a hand was gripping your chin, forcing you to look him in the eye, "you're being so good for me for someone who hates me." A chill ran up your spine, the pressure in your core ready to flood and take over, "I can feel you squeezing my cock, cum for me, darling. Be my good girl and cum for me."

Between his blissfully sinful words and the rutting of his hips against yours, you toppled over the edge, immediately securing your mouth to his shoulder and biting down to muffle your loud moans. The pain spurred him on, his thrusts becoming erratic as he neared his own high. Loki came, painting your insides white as he collapsed on top of you, careful not to crush you too much with his weight as he took deep breaths, both of your hearts racing. 

There was a pleasant quiet that fell between the two of you, something that hadn't happened before. It was always finished and get gone as quickly as possible, but this time he laid there for a couple of minutes, both of you taking in the bliss of not being at each other's throat. 

Loki inevitably pulled out of you, taking the time to get up and get a rag from your connected bathroom. He brought it over, slightly damp, wiping the dried saliva from his own neck before handing it to you so you could clean yourself up some. As you did, he grabbed his clothes instead of using his magic to put them back on. 

Loki slipped his pants on, holding the rest of his clothes in his hand as he made his way to the door. With his hand on the knob, he turned to look at you, an almost tired expression on his face.

"When you have decided you're done pretending to hate me, let me know." And with that he walked out, leaving you there to contemplate your every emotion.

#loki smut #loki x reader #Loki Laufeyson #loki one shot #Loki Laufeyson x Reader #marvel smut #loki x reader smut #loki x y/n #marvel one shot #marvel imagine #loki imagine #smut

[jokersfangirl84]

Words Get in the Way

A Frankie Morales x F! Reader Fic

Chapter Three

Pairing: Francisco "Catfish" Morales x F! Reader

Summary: Four weeks have passed since Frankie came back to your place and made love to you for the first time after you both confessed your true love for one another, becoming more than friends. Afterwards he was called out for a mission to Colombia which was supposed to have only lasted a few days. You haven't heard from him in hours on the day he's scheduled to come home and you begin to think he's not returning. He introduces you to some interesting bedroom escapades you have never before experienced, and unveils some of his own personal kinks he'd been hiding for years. He has also brought you a rather unorthodox gift...with an unusual proposition...

Word Count: 5800+

Warnings/Ratings: M-Explicit! SMUT! SMUT! SMUT! DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18! Nothing But smut!! Hooooooooo boy. I went out of control on this one. There are full descriptions of PIV Sex, unprotected sex (although I do strongly suggest wrapping it up), multiple orgasms, vaginal/anal fingering, oral sex (f! receiving), shower sex, sex against the wall, doggy style sex, hair pulling, spanking, rough sex (nothing too intense), kissing, touching, masturbation, dom/sub dynamic, dirty talk, vulgarity, profanity, TONS of F-bombs with which I may have gone overboard, several mentions of cock, pussy, ass. Mentions of possible past trauma. There are sprinkles of sweetness, worry, love, doing anything for the person with whom you're in love. Characters call each other "Baby" and "My Love" many times throughout.

Author's Notes: OH MY GOD. YALL. I have done a VERY bad thing. I should be ashamed. This is the dirtiest, sleaziest, horniest, smuttiest, filthiest thing I have ever written in my entire life. This makes Chapter 2 look very tame. Frankie is a very naughty, filthy boy in this. He hasn't seen his girl in weeks so he is feeling rather.....*ahem*....anxious. I can't believe I wrote this. I basically didn't hold back & let it all out & poured my heart and soul into it. This took me three months to finish because I kept doubting it would be any good. I kept getting in my feels; not only from the content itself but from being unable to convince myself I was any good at writing. I didn't think I ever would get it completed & almost gave up but I knew that wasn't an option. I really enjoyed writing this once I got in the groove & stopped overthinking everything. I want to thank all my wonderful friends for their encouragement & to all the incredibly talented writers out there whose material I turned to for inspiration and motivation. Y'all are amazing! I hope you enjoy this and hope it makes you feel the things you want to feel. Happy reading! Thank you for all your support!

Side Note: there's an unexpected twist! Not gonna say where but it's in there!

Below are the links for Chapters 1 & 2! Enjoy!

Stay tuned for Chapter 4!

Thank you for taking the time out of your day to read this! I appreciate you so much!

Feedback is welcome!

Reblogs & likes are loved and appreciated!

Thank you to my besties @popcornforone @salgal78 @princessjenn420 and @fatimaisabelpascal for all your love, advice and encouragement to keep me writing and going forward with my ideas! I wouldn't have finished this chapter without you guys' precious support! I love you so much! @harriedandharassed @sherala007 you asked to be tagged in chapter 3 so here you go! Please enjoy!

(Reader's POV)

You stood in the shower letting the steaming water flow carelessly over you, resisting the impulse to have an emotional breakdown. There'd been no contact from Frankie since he last texted you saying his plane landed, his luggage was located, and he was on his way. That was four hours ago. You called him repeatedly; straight to voicemail each time. No replies to your frequent "where are you?" "are you okay?" texts to him. You even contacted Pope, Redfly, Ironhead, and Benny asking about his whereabouts. No one had heard from him since deboarding the plane and going their separate ways. Panic began settling in. Sinister thoughts crowded your mind:

He isn't returning to you. He has changed his mind. He has taken Erica back or found someone else. He made love to you, gave you what you wanted, and now he has nothing to do with you. 

You shook your head, silently telling yourself not to think that way. Frankie would never treat you in such a manner. He is not that person. He has always been there for you. He meant every word he said when he told you he loves you. 

You still wondered where the hell he was, and why he wasn't replying to you. Maybe he stopped to get a bite to eat and left his phone in the car. Maybe he decided to go to his place first for a nap and forgot to set an alarm. Convincing yourself these were plausible reasons for his absence helped you push the negative thoughts aside. You continued scrubbing the sweat and grime off your body accumulated from cooking dinner and cleaning your apartment all day, preparing for Frankie's arrival. You haven't seen him in four weeks and you needed to get a shower in before he showed up. 

(Frankie's POV)

Frankie arrived at your apartment fifteen minutes after your shower started. He let himself in, setting his black duffel bag on the sofa. Your apartment smelled like fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies, his favorite. A full two dozen waited for him on the stove. Sitting on the counter was a crockpot full of boiling homemade stew. The rumbling hunger in his stomach intensified. He hadn't eaten much all day, only the unsatisfactory meals on the plane. He couldn't wait to get to your place knowing you'd have something fantastic prepared for him. 

"I'm here, Baby. Where's my girl?"  You were nowhere to be found. Not in the living room, not in the kitchen. He could hear music coming from the bathroom down the hall, hear the faint roar of the shower running, see steam clouds seeping through the barely cracked-open door, smell your floral body wash. He pushed it open wider, peeking inside.

"Baby, it's me."  No reply. You were too busy singing along to your favorite tune to hear him. He stiffened against his jeans when he heard your angelic voice; saw your nude silhouette behind the glass door. The idea of surprising you and making you scream the way he did on the sofa a few weeks ago popped into his mind. His brain constantly replayed the events of that night. He loved the sounds he was able to coax out of you as he fucked you for the first time after years of longing. Loved how his name rolled off your tongue, how your nails felt digging into his skin, how your worlds collided when you confessed your true feelings for each other. He could still feel you clenching around him as he made you cum. God, he wanted-no, needed more of this. He needed you.

Knowing how much you disliked having your personal space invaded made him change his mind about joining you. He closed the door and made his way back to the living room, making a pit stop in the kitchen to grab a few cookies, consuming them in seconds. He made himself comfortable in the recliner, closed his eyes, pulled his cap down, hands resting on his belly, fingers interlocked. His body felt limp with exhaustion, in great need of rest. He was beyond relieved to be back in the States. This extra-long trip to Colombia had  been a nightmare. The mission was only scheduled to have lasted three days. Plans went astray in every possible way: flights were delayed, vehicles broke down, the group received inadequate pay (even after being promised a much larger sum; the main reason the job was taken), desperate measures were executed by the guys during an ambush.

Your soothing singing, the only noise filling the entire dwelling, urged him to fall asleep. Images of what you looked like in the shower appeared behind his eyelids; the soapy water trailing down your body, over your breasts and erect nipples, down your stomach, between your thighs as you glided your favorite loofah over your skin. Your soft, delicate hands massaging their way through your hair. You pleasuring yourself with the hand-held shower nozzle while thinking of him....his name on your lips...begging to be fucked....

He began sleepily palming himself through his pants. He wondered how much time you had left in the shower. You were notorious for making them last longer than necessary. He opened his belt and zipper and wrapped a hand around his already-hard cock, flicking his index finger over his leaking tip, giving himself a couple of languid strokes, almost in a deep sleep. The more he pictured you being wet, naked, and vulnerable, the faster his strokes became. He was on the verge of climaxing when his eyes shot open, coming to a realization. 

Wait a minute. Why the fuck am I doing this? There is someone who can take care of your needs...and she's only a few feet away…

He climbed out of the recliner and made his way to the bathroom. Fuck it. He was going to join you whether you liked it or not.

(Reader's POV)

You were rinsing the shampoo out of your hair when you thought you felt an unusual cool breeze behind you. You shrugged it off, knowing the shower door had a tendency to slide open a little on its own. The feel of large, familiar masculine hands on your shoulders startled you; soft fingertips pushing your hair aside allowing luscious lips to kiss the back of your neck. You turned around and saw Frankie standing in the shower with you, his lips slightly parted, a few water droplets mapping his bare chest. His cock big and swollen, in need of attention. 

"Hi, Baby." He grinned. "Stop ogling me. I need to kiss you now."

You didn't realize your head was cocked to one side, and you were smiling. "I'm not ogling you, My Love. I'd call it...admiring the craftsmanship."  

He snorted, running both hands through his misty hair. "Craftsmanship, huh? Since you put it that way, I'll let you look a little longer."

You took a moment to admire him, your eyes slowly following his physique from head to toe. Damn, what a sight he is. His lean, virile 5'11" frame was held up by strong legs, long torso, wide shoulders, and most glorious neck. His hair is just past regulation length, unruly strands tickling his eyes. The subtle thickness of his waistline and uneven beard - perfect imperfections - making your heart swell with even more love for him. He's the most beautiful man  you've ever seen. The kind of man you want to touch constantly but are afraid to do so; he's such an immaculate, delicate work of art. 

You noticed he had a fresh, deep six-inch long scar on his left pectoral near his collarbone.  You stepped closer to him, placing your fingertips next to the scar.

 "Frankie!  What is this?!" You tried to conceal the worry in your voice. "Did this happen on the mission? What happened?" 

A plethora of scars decorated his chest, abdomen, arms, even on his hands. Cuts, scratches, and bruises of various shapes and sizes. This particular wound, however, looked recently inflicted, like it came from a blade.

"Don't worry about it" was his sharp response. He put his hands up in front of him. "Trust me, it's nothing major. A little mishap is all it is."

"Is every scar you have a mishap? Are they from.....her? What are you not telling me?"

You knew mentioning Erica would strike a nerve in him. You weren't intending to be crude; only genuinely concerned about what he'd been through, who or what had hurt him. He had mentioned nothing to you about being injured. There was evident pain behind his eyes.

He tensed up. Jaw clenched. Hands on hips. He licked his lips and swallowed hard. 

"Baby, please. Don't. Now is not the time."

You put your hands on his face pushing his long bangs away from his eyes. His cheeks were red hot; it wasn't from the water temperature. "It's not my objective to trigger you, My Love. I'm just cur-"

"-I said drop it." His voice had become low and minatory. "I never discuss my scars with anyone, including you."

His words stung a little. You hung your head, your eyes now giving the floor attention. This is the man you love, your best friend. You want to know everything about him. Want him to feel comfortable pouring his heart out to you and tell you all his deepest, darkest secrets without judgment. As long as you've known him you knew he was never one to discuss feelings. You hoped being in an actual relationship with him would make him feel like an open book. 

Frankie put a finger under your chin, lifting your gaze back to him. "I'm sorry, Baby. I didn't mean to snap at you."  His voice returned its softness. "Believe me, I want to tell you about my scars as much as you want to know about them. I will. I promise. The time will come." 

You nodded and smiled. "Yes, My Love. Understood."

"Please can I kiss you now?" His eyes bolted from your eyes to your lips. "Those lips are looking awfully lonely."

You laughed. "You don't have to ask." 

Frankie gently pushed you up against the shower wall, enveloping your mouth in a passionate, desirous kiss. His hands were on your breasts, thumbs flicking across your nipples, fingers massaging the soft flesh. You both were now directly under the shower head, the warm water cascading down your faces, mixing with your lips and tongues. Ripples flooded your body when you felt his hard tip pressed against you, making you yearn for him even more.

"I missed you", he said between kisses. "I know I should've been here earlier. Fuckin' truck wouldn't start after I finally located it in the parking lot. Took me an hour to find someone to give me a boost." 

You ran your hands through his hair.  "I missed you too, My Love. I tried calling you several times. Every time you didn't answer I kept thinking something terrible happened to you."

His face was now in your neck. "I'm sorry, Baby. Besides my truck issues, I lost my damn charger at the airport. Couldn't find a replacement. Then the fuckin' phone died as soon as I hit the interstate." The irritation in his voice was apparent. 

"My goodness, Love. Sounds like you've had a hell of a day. Let me give you what you need." You lifted one of your legs, wrapping it around his waist, moving your body closer to his trying to maneuver him inside of you.  He pushed your leg down, laughing. "Needy little thing aren't you! But not yet, Baby. There's something else I'd like to do to you first." 

You looked up at him, pouting and whimpering. He smirked, waving his index finger in front of your face and shaking his head. "No, none of that. We need to establish some rules. You must be a good girl, or you'll get nothing."

You raised an eyebrow. A faint, imperceptible smile overtook your lips. "Ooooh, rules, Frankie? To make sure I'm a good girl for you? I thought you liked my neediness."

His smirk grew wider. "Of course I do, Baby. But patience is a must. Good, obedient girls get rewarded. Bad girls get punished."

You shot him a deer-in-the-headlights look. "Punished? How? Frankie, what the hell are you talking about?"

He winked at you. "No time for explanations now. You'll find out later."

Before you could ask any more questions he dropped to his knees, pressing his hands on the inside of your thighs, pushing them further apart. His face was now inches from your pussy. You gasped when you realized what he had in mind. 

"No! Not that!"  You tried to push his head away. He looked up at you, brow furrowed. "No? Why not? If memory serves me correctly, didn't  you say last time I was here you wanted us to do everything?"  His expression relaxed, eyes full of concern. "Or...wait- is this not something you like?"

You  turned away from his gaze, blushing. "I...actually- no one has ever performed it on me."  

You felt ashamed for admitting to someone who sets your soul alight as much as Frankie does that you'd never had a man taste you.

He grinned, the darkness of his eyes deepening. "Is that so?  Hmmm...." He rubbed his chin, one hand still on the inside of your thigh.  "You know what I think?  I think that's because you've never had a real man, Baby. All the guys you've dated are pussies. Pussies who don't eat pussy." 

You giggled. He's such a smartass. But he wasn't wrong. None of your past relationships ever cared about pleasing you. It was always about what they wanted: pounding into you uncomfortably, flopping on top of you like a fish, climaxing within minutes and leaving you unsatisfied, unfulfilled. Frankie Morales was the complete opposite. He made you feel like your needs, your satisfaction, was more important than his own; as if his main goal was to take care of you. He was patient. He made you feel wanted.

"I've been thinkin' about this sweet pussy all day. Gotta taste it. Please, Baby, can I?" Rivers of shower water snaked their way down his face flattening his thick locks. His eyes still connected with yours. 

Those damn puppy dog eyes.

He was quite aware of your inability to resist them; they made you absolutely weak. You nodded anxiously, realizing how foolish it was to deny him anything. Especially anything sexual. "Yes", you breathed. "Yes, My Love, please!"

Frankie spread your  folds with two fingers, licking his lips. God, you were glistening. "Fuckin' look at that, would you. So prompt and prepared. So wet for me. Exactly how I like my girl to be."  He circled his tongue around your clit -just once- before licking the inside of your folds, furiously lapping up your trickling arousal. Two fingers from his other hand pushed inside of you, curling, bending. You threw your hands into his hair letting out a long, plaintive whine.

"Fuckin' delicious," he breathed, not looking up. He took his fingers out, put them in his mouth, and inserted them back inside you. He moved them in and out while endlessly flicking his tongue across your clit, making you whine louder.  He took his fingers out once more, but instead of putting them in his mouth, he put them in yours. 

"Taste it," he demanded, moving them around the circumference of your mouth, now looking up at you. "Taste how sweet you are."

You followed orders, both hands gripping his forearm and wrist, wrapping your lips around his fingers. You swirled your tongue around the digits, bobbing your head up and down as if you were fellating him, all the while the two of you keeping eye contact. 

"Fuck that's sexy." He took his fingers out of your mouth, put them in his own, savoring the taste briefly, and put them back in yours, instructing you to keep sucking. He turned his attention back to your pussy. You moaned and closed your eyes, feeling his tongue inside you moving up and down quickly. You sucked on his fingers harder; your hands gripping his wrist and forearm so tightly your knuckles were turning white. The feel of his tongue deep inside your hole, while he rubbed your clit with his other hand, made you nearly lose consciousness from the pleasure. So many things were happening to you at once; all your senses and emotions at play. You couldn't tell if the sounds you were hearing were yours or his. No coherent thought could be produced.

"Come on, Baby, show me," he said, swiping his tongue through your folds. "Show me - swipe - what - swipe - this pussy - swipe -  can do."

The movements of his fingers against your clit quickened; his glorious tongue exploring every nook and cranny, no inch left untasted. The fingers previously your mouth now driving into your pussy at such speed your legs shook. He took his index finger and thumb and pinched your overstimulated clit, wrapping and sucking his lips around the sensitive bud.

"Frankie! What are you doing to me! Oh my God!"  

Your body jolted as you felt a massive outpouring of your juices, reaching the pinnacle of desire. A loud wail trailed out of your throat; the pleasure hitting you like a freight train. You held your hands up near your face, shaking, trembling, looking down at the frenzy between your legs.

"Good girl! Best pussy I've ever tasted."  He stood up, wiping your mess off his face - it was everywhere - with the back of his hand and licking it off. "That was fuckin' incredible. Gonna fuck you now. You earned it. Ready?" 

You nodded, breathless, fighting for air after what you'd just experienced. "Pl-please. I'm always ready for you, My Love."

Your scenery changed in a flash. Frankie flipped you around to where you were now facing the shower wall; your stomach and chest pressed against the cold, wet tile. He stood behind you, his hands on your hips, his cock nudging your entrance.  

"Put your palms against the wall, Baby. Stick your ass out. Spread those legs for me."

You followed instructions. He kept one hand on your hip, the other gripping your shoulder as he thrust into your drenched pussy with a low, rough grunt. He began pounding into you without giving you a chance to adjust to his length, knocking even more air out of your lungs. 

"Fuck  yes, Baby. This is how I always wanted to fuck you. All those nights I stayed over and fucked my fist to the thought of you. This is what I imagined us doing."  

All you could do was close your eyes and moan at what you were hearing. You knew he jerked off many times when he spent the night at your apartment. He is a man, after all. But never in a million years did you think it was you getting him off.

"Frankie...oh fuck..." His thrusts were endless. You reached behind you to touch him, eager to feel hot, wet skin and muscle beneath your fingers. He grabbed your hand and pressed it back in its place against the wall.

"No, no, Baby. Keep your hands where I can see them."

Your eyes shot open as one of his great hands came in contact with your ass with a loud, wet slap, causing your body to lurch forward.

That's gonna leave a mark. 

"Oh, shit!" You glanced back at him over your shoulder, keeping your hands in place.  

"Umm....Frankie? What...was...that?"

"You know what it was." He slapped your ass again, this time on the other cheek. You squeezed your eyes shut and bit your lip as the pain bloomed across your body. You didn't want to admit it but the stinging sensation felt spectacular; so much better than the playful slaps he gave you when you were just friends.

"Fuck yes! More, Frankie, more! Please!" 

"Ah, so you do like having your beautiful ass spanked. Filthy girl." He obliged, slapping your ass harder than before; his thrusts never ceasing. He still gripped your shoulder, fingers digging into your flesh. "Come on. Move, Baby, move," he demanded. "Don't make me do all the work." 

You weren't exactly clear on what he meant at first, or what was bringing on this behavior. But you'd be damned if you denied you liked it. Your countless fantasies about him almost always involved him dominating you, spanking you, tying you up, making you beg for him, calling you dirty names, doing nasty, obscene, disgusting things to you, putting you in positions that would make even a contortionist shudder. In reality, your sweet Frankie would never be into such things. He would be downright embarrassed at what you wanted him to do to you. 

Apparently, you were wrong. 

You looked back at him, confused.

"I...I...don't...uh...what?" 

Both hands moved to your sides and pulled you closer to him, making back and forth motions. 

"Like this, Baby. Come on, don't be shy."  His saccharine voice set your mind at ease. "Let me and help me take good care of you."  

Realizing what he was asking you to do you rocked your body back into him, taking him fully all the way to the base; coarse, wet hairs tickling your ass.  Frankie trailed his fingers up and down your spine; those large hands so soft it felt like he wasn't even touching you at all. 

"Yeah, Baby. Just like that. Show me how I'm making you feel."

Your impassioned mewls and sighs increased as you moved back and forth faster, your ass crashing into his hips making him groan and pant. Even through the bellow of the falling water you could hear the inappropriate sounds of your wet bodies smacking against one another. You threw your head back, not caring that the tepid stream was hitting you directly in the face. 

"Frankie...I've never done it this way...you feel...so...fucking...good."

His cock gliding against your walls, along with the fact he was doing things to you that you'd only dreamed about, had you gasping for the breath he had taken away from you.

 "So do you, Baby. So goddamn tight. Jesus fuckin' Christ." 

He coiled his hands through your hair giving it a gentle tug, looking down at the junction of your bodies. "God I missed this pussy. I never want to go this long without it again." 

"Me too, My Love."  You uttered a pleased hum. "God I love the way your cock feels inside of me. My pussy felt so empty without it."

He chuckled. "Tell me something, Baby. Do you always want to be fucked like this?"

Nodding was the only response you could give; words stolen by sobs and wails as he moved his hips against your ass faster. 

"Did you mean it when you said you'd do anything for me?"

Nod. 

"Were you being truthful in saying you'd always dreamed of belonging to me?"

Nod.

He slapped your ass once more, a hand still in your hair, making you shriek as he tugged harder.

"Words, Baby!" Slap. "Vocalize!" Slap. "I need to hear you say it!" Slap.

You were definitely going to have handprints on your ass later.

"Yes!"  You wheezed. "My Love, Yes! I want to belong to you! Fucking own me!" 

The way you moaned those last two words made him laugh. "You want me to own you, you say?"

"Yes!" you answered without hesitation. "In every sense of the word!"

His lips curled into a pleased smile. "Good girl. That's the answer I was expecting."  He let go of your hair and spun you around to where you were now facing him.

"Hold on to me, Baby. It's okay, I got you." He placed his hands under your thighs and picked you up effortlessly, pinning you against the shower wall with his body. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your ankles crossed, one arm flung around his neck, the other clutching his shoulder. Within seconds he was back inside you fucking you like his life depended on it, his vigorous thrusting forcing your body up and down, lifting, falling. His face deposited in your neck, licking, kissing, sucking every inch of skin between your neck and shoulder. You tilted your head back, eyes closed, mouth open, desperate cries filling your tiny bathroom. You're so full of him, his cock so deep inside you touching every nerve, every tendril, every fiber, every corner. The head of him pressing the switch within you that made you lose all modesty, all control. 

"Oh, God, yes! Harder, My Love! Harder!"  You were basically shouting the words. "Fuck me like you own me!"

He growled and hissed in your ear as the brutality of his thrusts intensified. His fingers and hands squeezing your skin so tightly you were certain you'd be left with marks, bruises, fingerprints. The pain, the pleasure; it was all equally too much and not enough. It was fucking magnificent; leaving your mind in shambles. 

"Yes, Baby, yes!" he panted. I fuckin' love hearing you talk this way. So fuckin' dirty."

He was now looking at you, eyes hazy with pleasure, mouth open. "Gonna cum soon, Baby. Where do you want it? Inside?" 

"Yes!"  You cried, locking your eyes with his. "You don't need permission! Just fuckin' do it!  Cum inside me, please!"

A smile spread across his lips, a satisfied twinkle gleaming in his eye. "You are so fuckin' perfect, Baby, I swear. Fuckin' made for me."  He put an index finger in his mouth and, without warning, pushed it repeatedly inside your asshole -while still fucking you into oblivion.

"Frankie!" You practically screamed his name.  "That's...oh fuck...what the fuck! That's too much! I can't-"

 "-You can take it, Baby. I know you can. Show me. Don't hold back."

No way was he going to make you cum twice. That was impossible; only something you'd seen in movies and TV. Something that always suspends your disbelief, making you scoff and roll your eyes. But this?  Imminent. You were going to have multiple orgasms in one night for the first time ever in your life. Then he stuck another finger inside your ass. And that was it; the shot of adrenaline straight to the heart, the needle bursting the tiny pleasure-filled bubble in your stomach, the surge of electricity pulsing through your veins. You wrapped your arms tighter around his neck , fingertips kneading, clawing into the flesh of his back holding on for dear life. 

Frankie gave one last forceful buck of his hips as he spilled into you, an orchestra of explicit noises and words coming from the both of you. You could feel the concoction of warm liquids between your thighs shooting up into you like fireworks. Your vision was now a swirling sea of unrecognizable colors. Your head collapsed on his shoulder, his chin on yours, chests heaving against each other's, breaths coming and going in quick intervals. 

"I love you so much, Frankie" you finally managed to say after what seemed like an eternity of silence. "You make me feel things I had no idea I could feel."

You felt him smile against your neck. "I love you too, Baby. I always knew I'd be the one to broaden your horizons."

You embraced him tighter running your hands up and down his back. "I never wanted anyone like this. It's all brand new to me."

"Likewise, Baby." Frankie removed his hands from the back of your thighs and set you on your feet. You felt like a newborn fawn, legs wobbly, unable to keep your balance. You both laughed as you held on to his forearms for support until you could stand on your own.  He shut the water off and opened the sliding glass door, stepping out onto the white feathery bath mat.

"Meet me in the living room after you're dressed," he said as he grabbed a towel off the bathroom door hook and gathered his clothes off the floor. "I have a surprise for you."

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

After changing into leggings and a spaghetti-strap shirt, you found Frankie sitting on the sofa, his phone in one hand, thumb swiping up and down in quick strokes, dark bottle of beer in the other taking long swigs, eyes never leaving the device screen. His jeans were zipped but unbuttoned, unfastened belt hanging loosely between his legs. His red T-shirt clung to his still-damp skin, portraying each sculpted muscular detail, his moist capless hair an unkempt mess, strands pointing in every direction. You stood at the end of the hallway watching him, leaning your shoulder against the wall, staring, struggling to process what had just taken place in your shower. You had difficulty wrapping your head around the fact that it actually happened; not in one of your fantasy scenarios. Frankie Morales, who you've wanted since the first day you laid eyes on him, was now your lover, your partner; your companion. The one who showed you pleasures you didn't know you wanted or needed. The one who unlocked your passion and freed your mind to explore the depths of your darkest sexual desires.

Your lover.  That sounded so forbidden, so taboo.

Frankie looked up from his phone and gave you a smile, his eyes lighting up when he saw you. "There's my girl. You disappeared from me. I didn't think you'd come back."  He took another sip of beer and set the bottle on the coffee table. "Come on over here so I can give you your surprise." 

You took the empty seat next to him. He reached into his duffel bag and pulled out a small, flat purple gift box wrapped in pink ribbon and placed it in your hands. 

"This is for you, Baby. Open it."

"You bought me a gift?" 

He nodded, his eyes wide and full of anticipation, an anxious smile across his lips. "Of course. You're my girl. I need to spoil you."

Inside was a thin, black leather choker necklace adorned with numerous diamond-shaped crystals. A sterling silver heart pendant hung from a small chain on the facade, and it fastened like a belt in the back. You didn't wear much jewelry, earrings occasionally. He knew this, which made it a little unclear as to why this would be a gift choice. But you found it to be beautiful. Elegant. Racy.

After a few moments it hit you; the purpose of the gift. You were his. He owns you. You belong to him. He wants it to be shown. 

"Frankie, it's lovely. But...I don't wear neck-."

"-You do now," he interrupted. "I want you to wear it as a symbol of my ownership of you. You want to be mine in every possible way? Wearing this necklace will seal that deal."

You stared at the piece of jewelry in your hands, trying to believe what you had just heard; your mind devoid of words.

He scooted closer to you, putting a hand under your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his. "If you think it's excessive, Baby, you don't-"

"-Yes", you answered. "I'll wear it and I'll never take it off. Whatever it takes to make you happy, My Love, I'll do it." You took the accessory out of its box, ready to put it on. Frankie eagerly took it from your hands, his eyes lighting up. "Please, let me do it."

He leaned forward reaching across you to fasten the choker, his cheek brushing against yours, lips next to your ear. "You know what this means, don't you?" He whispered once the necklace was fully around your neck.  A hand trailed down your body, between your legs, inside your panties. "This pussy-this body-is mine now."  His fingers started rubbing at your clit, making you cry out. "I can do whatever I want with it. Clear?"

You nodded, eyes fluttering closed. "Fraaannnkkkiiiiieeee..."

"Remember those rules I mentioned earlier?"  His lips were still against your ear. "About being a good girl and getting punished for being bad?  You must follow them now that you're wearing this necklace. You must obey."

He slipped a finger inside you, moving the digit so rapidly you could hear the vulgar squelching noises, making you squirm. You grabbed his arm. "Frankie!"  you moaned. "Yes! I'll do whatever you say, My Love! I'm all yours!"

He grinned, his eyes rich with contentment. His lips crashed into yours, tongue delving into your mouth. Your arms found their way around his neck, your legs moving onto the sofa so you could lie on your back outstretched.  Frankie lowered himself onto you, positioning himself between your legs, still dressed, lips never leaving yours, still fingering you like it would be a crime if he stopped, making you hum and whimper. The other hand caressed your still-clothed thigh and leg.

"Gonna cum for me again, are you, Baby?"  he asked against your lips. "Are you gonna squirt all over my-"  

There was a knock at the door, making Frankie stop the delicious makeout session and look up in confusion.  He looked down at you, also perplexed.

"Expecting company?"

You shook your head.

Another knock, this time much louder. 

"Want me to see who it is?" 

"No, I'll get it." You stood up and made your way to the door located right next to the sofa.  You opened it, and the color drained out of your face. Your heart sank. 

There she was. Fucking. Erica. Hands pressed on her hips, looking as perfectly put together as always. Black hair,  flawless makeup, tight dress, menacing green eyes. The only difference from when you last saw her was now she looked like there had been way too much time spent in a tanning bed and too many collagen injections in her lips. She impatiently tapped her high-heeled foot on the outside concrete floor, her mouth sewn into an angry frown. 

"Where is he?" Her voice was eerily stern, lacking emotion. "I know Francisco is here somewhere. Where the fuck is he?!"

You put your finger up. "First of all, Erica, hello to you too. Second, don't come at me with that attitude. Third, what makes you think he would be here?"

Erica rolled her eyes, huffing out an annoyed sigh. "Because his fucking truck is parked out front, dumbass." 

"Don't you fuckin' dare speak to her like that." Frankie growled as he walked up next to you, casually throwing his arm around your shoulder pulling you closer to him. "You lookin' for me, Erica? Well, here I am. The hell do you want?"

Erica's eyes switched between you and Frankie, looking you both up and down, noticing your still wet locks, flushed cheeks, his shirt worn inside out and unbuttoned jeans. She shook her head, her eyes on the ground, sarcastic laughter seeping through her lips. 

"Unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable. You two fucked, didn't you?"

Frankie cleared his throat. "You shouldn't ask questions to which you  know the answers."

She cut her eyes to you. "I suppose you think he's your boyfriend now? That he loves you?"

"Erica, I'm not gonna ask you again." Frankie piped in before you could give her an answer. "Why. The. Fuck. Are. You. Here?" 

His acerbic tone made you take a step an inch away but he still kept his arm on your shoulder. You looked at him while he kept his eyes on Erica. His brow furrowed, lips pursed, jaw tightened, veins in his neck made their appearance, heavy breathing commenced through his nose. His other hand formed into a fist.

Erica pointed a manicured accusatory finger at him. "You. You son-of-a-bitch. You and I need to talk."

(To Be Continued....)

#pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales #frankie morales smut #frankie morales x you #frankie morales fanfic #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fic #frankie morales x f!reader #francisco morales #francisco catfish morales #pedro pascal fanfic #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfic #I love me some Frankie Morales #smutty #omg i love him so much #Frankie Morales dirty #this took me 3 months to finish #please enjoy #please forgive me #holy hell #what have i done #i love this man #he's so easy to write about #Frankie my love #beautiful man #hot #this man will be the death of me

[cupfullofpapas]

(Yes I'm reusing this image too busy to doodle a new one :''( life has been super crazy as of late ) Second Vol in The Assistant series: In the arms of a Devil Rated: E F/M Cardinal Copia x F!Reader Papa Emeritus IV x F!Reader

Also read it on my Ao3 here Previous Vol. : The Assistant Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Part 6: Scent Your patience was nearing its end as you stood by the window looking over the ministries garden watching your fellow siblings of sin some tending to the gardens, some sitting below the few trees that offered an abundance of shade, the weather had decided to act right for once and allowed everyone a day outside, you however, decided to stay indoors. 

As much as you tried to convince yourself that things were okie dokie they weren't, you missed Copia like hell and your chest ached from it, well it was either that or allergies or perhaps both. You've considered talking to Gemma,  the only Prime mover you knew of who had been with her Papa during his touring era.

Each time you went to talk to her you gave yourself excuses not to bother her those excuses now becoming ridiculous. 

With everyone outside enjoying the sunny day the Abbey was quiet so you chose to sit in the cafeteria once the walls of your dorm room started to get to you feeling as if they were closing in. Sitting down at one of the many tables with a muffin you had gotten from the kitchen, picking little pieces off of it like an overgrown crab. 

Sweet Satan, you felt weird, you never thought you could miss someone this much you didn't even miss Secondo this much when he was out of the office for a long period of time... pausing you frowned, with all that had happened that sounded pretty harsh, being lost in thought you plucked another piece of the muffin popping it into your mouth followed by another.

"Child what's got you down in the dumps?."

The sudden voice made you jump looking up to see Sister Twist looking down at you her hands on her hips concern written all over her face. "Satanas, Twist don't spook me like that."  The redhead only shrugged before sitting in the chair across from you the thing giving a slight whine. 

"I forgot how cheesy these things were, you'd think with how much Imperator bitches about the budget and cash there would be a stockpile for new cafeteria chairs at least, things look like they're from the fuckin sixties" Twist snickered however when she didn't hear you join in either laughing or ragging on Imperator she knew something was on your mind. 

"Hey."  Twist snapped her fingers a few times getting your attention.  "Talk to me, what's eating at you, and don't say nothing 'cause momma Twist knows."   You rolled your eyes before answering.  "Just with the tour and all and.."  You trailed off looking for the right words. "You miss your man". Your cheeks turned a light shade of red nodding adverting your eyes from the older sister of sin.

"You miss Copia and you feel weird for missing him so much because you've never missed or depended on someone else who wasn't blood-related that and you feel like your heart is being ripped out through your rib cage."  You opened your mouth to speak however Twist held up her hand silencing you. 

"And even though you still talk to him on the phone or text it feels like it's not enough and yadda yadda."  You stayed silent staring at her before uttering a little 'fuck you' which made the older sibling laugh.   "There's nothing wrong with feeling this way, it's natural to feel this way when you miss someone you love."  

Love, you did love him right?, you remembered the day you told Secondo that you loved him back when he declared his love for you the thought put an uneasy pit in your stomach which caused you to push the muffin aside, why were you even asking yourself this?, you just had teenage phone sex last night with the man. You felt a hand rest on your shoulder Twist wore a kind smile.  "You'll know the answer when he comes back, sweetie."  You smiled and rested your hand above hers the moment was short-lived as Lenti came running into the cafeteria. 

"Twist! Omega, Divine, Alpha, and Terzo are fucking in the music room again!."   "Oh for the love of sweet Satan, those fuckers are gonna get a boot up their ass."   "Careful they might like that." You chimed in as Twist pushed the chair in heading to the music room complaining the entire way, the last time those four got into it in the music room Pebble's drumset was a casualty and Sister Imperator was furious about having to buy a whole new set for the ghoul. The sound of something hitting the floor and the yelling of Imperator's voice pulled you from your thoughts. "You daft idiots!, Be careful with this equipment it's very important and very expensive!."  Getting up from your seat you wandered over to the door seeing that the ghouls were moving a bunch of medical equipment, was someone sick?

"Sister?." you asked stepping from the cafeteria, Imperator turned quickly to face you a smile coming to her face her demeanor changing quickly.  "Hello dear." "What's all this?." "It is for Papa Nihil when he gets back from tour with Cardi, don't you worry about it I have everything under control" She offered the fakest of smiles before following the ghouls walking away her red heels clicking and clacking on the floor. 

The 'short time apart' felt more like years apart the only good thing that happened in your opinion was that Sister Imperator had given you the option of going back to your old dorm room or staying in the current one alongside Copia given the fact that you two were an item, you of course chose to stay in the shared room one because you did not feel like packing everything up and two once Copia got back you were going to stick to him like glue. 

Your day off finally came, the day when you could just lay around your dorm room and not have to worry about anything other than flopping your face into Copia's pillow and breathing in the fleeting scent you hadn't even bothered to change out of your pajamas.

 Rolling over in bed you went face-first into the soft depths of your Cardinal's pillow breathing in-- it was then that you realized that his scent was gone from the fabric, you started to think, what could you do? you needed his scent you needed to feel as if he was there, the worry was starting to set in, and then it hit you.. but were you that desperate?

.....Yes, yes you were...

 Scooting closer to the edge of his side of the bed you opened the nightstand digging around in the drawer. Sometimes the lack of organization of his personal items got to you and made you want to shake him but on the other hand, it also gave you things to do. While you were on your search you looked at some of the things he had tucked away in there. 

A list of numbers, a few unopened juice boxes, several pens, pictures, loose change, and receipts however it wasn't just any receipts they were from the couple nights you and him half-assedly eloped there was even one from the gas station. A smile had worked its way to your face as you looked over each one recounting each item there was also a list there in his scratchy handwriting of things you liked and didn't like, your smile only grew wider as your fingers slid over the indented paper following the pen marks the Chinese menu you both had ordered from. 

You remembered when you accidentally launched a shrimp at the television screen that night, the memory earned a quiet laugh, putting the items back you were on the move again until your searching fingers finally found what you were looking for.

Closing the nightstand's drawer you sat up holding a bottle, it was Copia's cologne your thumb ran over the elegant lettering feeling the different textures on the label, after mentally telling yourself how crazy and weird you were several small sprays were sprayed onto his pillow and one on yourself.

The bottle was placed back inside the nightstand drawer, and the pillow now damp with the scent was turned over the damp side against the bed sheet once again you flopped face-first into it this time being hit with the strong scent of your man. You felt your whole body tingle and warm up as soon as you breathed in his scent your skin prickling with goosebumps, it made you giddy picturing Copia there with you tangled up in the blankets enjoying your time together. 

It was weird sometimes, how a simple scent could make a body heat up, your thighs squeezed together dulling the throb that started as soon as his scent filled your nostrils, your mind thinking about those hands of his and the way they felt when he slid them along your body and gripped your soft flesh the smooth of the leather.   Your hand has started to trace the patterns on your body picturing that they were his fingers, his palms, and you were a willing victim under his expert touches, your Cardinals name was whispered past your lips as your fingertips came to the swell of your pussy lips.

You could picture him there staring down at you, kissing you his fingers teasing you driving you wild, his tongue swirling with yours in the timeless dance of love. You were about to sink your fingers inside of yourself when there was a knock at the door making you halt your actions and look up. Rolling your eyes you stayed quiet maybe if you didn't make a sound whoever it was would just go away thinking that you weren't home, you thought it had worked but there the knocking was again, flopping your pillow over your face you groaned into it before getting up washing your hands and answering the door.  Unlocking the handle and deadbolt you opened the door being face to face with Sister Imperator once again at this point you almost swore this woman was stalking you. 

"Sister?."  You asked doing your best not to sound annoyed. "Evening, I have some-- unfortunate news for you."  -------------------------------------------- TAG LIST: Please message me if you would like to be added to the tag list! @thesoundresoundsecho @xpapaemeritus @copiasprincipessa @siouxbauhaus

#the band ghost #ghost #copia #cardinal copia #ghostau #papa emeritus iv #Cardinal Copia x F!Reader #cardinal copia x reader #papa emeritus 4 #papa emeritus iv x reader #Papa Emeritus x F!reader #sister imperator #sister twist #Divine ghoulette #ghoulette oc #ghouls #nameless ghouls #ghost ghouls #unmasked ghouls

[iris-of-bliss]

Healing I: Absence

Summary: Your fiancé hasn’t arrived home for days. Thoughts began to worry about his fate. You would soon find out about what was going on his entire time being away. Giving him love and affection was more important on your to-do list.

Pairing(s): Kabal/F!Reader

Warning(s): Angst

A/N: My first ever angst fic. I hope you enjoy <3

Today has been quiet as usual, remaining alone at home in bed once again. It has been three days in a row of Kabal being absent. Your stomach felt like it was tied in a hefty knot. You remember him talking about a job he needed to handle with Stryker. There were monsters wrecking havoc through the city a few days back. You prayed that he made it through okay instead of ending up dead. Your patience was running thin as you sent text message after text message and stared at one of the photographs you took with Kabal. Your finger traces across his face, heart aching for his return to bed. The atmosphere doesn’t feel the same without your lover. Enjoying the sweet comfort from him by a warm embrace and kisses being peppered all over you. You two settled down well in your new home after the engagement. You couldn’t wait to finally become his wife sooner or later. There weren’t any wedding plans just yet. This might have to hold off for a while.

You recall the memory after his proposal, “I’m so fucking happy you’re in my life, baby. I will always protect you until the day I die…”

You two were holding each other in a tight hug, cherishing this precious moment.

“You really mean that, don’t you Kabal?” you look up to him. Kabal lifts a hand up to caress your face gently.

“Trust me, I never forget to keep my word.”

The treasured memory made you sigh with a hint of sadness. You miss Kabal so much. Getting out for some fresh air in the start of the weekend might help out, but not completely. After getting up to change your clothes, you head out and drive into a town nearby. The place wasn’t too crowded with some residents doing their usual routine. It sounded pretty quiet around here. After stopping at the right parking spot, you wander across a sidewalk while sightseeing. You try your best not to get thoughts about Kabal in the way, yet this would prove difficult.

After some minutes of walking, you rest your back against the wall of a convenience store. You pull out your cell again to send your fiancé another text, telling how much you miss him.

You worriedly look into your surroundings, hoping for him to pop up any second. The heel of your shoe taps along the concrete. You never dealt with Kabal being gone for more than a day, unless it was for an urgent mission. He always reminded you when he comes home, and it was supposed to be a day after he left to work in the afternoon.

Your thoughts snap after you soon recognized a familiar downtown alley across the street. It held special memories of you and Kabal with its cute decorations of lights and plants hanging across the building walls. Plant vases and valuable trinkets gave the alley a nice touch along the path. You remember hanging out to chat next to one of the restaurants within the alley, admiring each other’s company. This was most often planned during the night since the scenery would feel more romantic. It was the right time for each other to get flirty. You manage to cross the street to examine the empty place. Your eyes caught the small dining table made for the outdoors. This was you and your fiancé’s favorite spot. The table was cheap and made of steel along with the seats, but they at least felt comfortable thanks to the cushioning. You sat in one of them before your memories appear once again.

“So uh, how do you like the place? Pretty romantic, right?” Kabal asked nervously, hoping for a positive answer.

You answer happily, “Oh Kabal, I actually like the atmosphere. It feels nice, and it isn’t too open. We’re sitting in an alley and are about to eat together. It is romantic.”

Your hand rested atop of his. One finger traces the back of his. Kabal then holds into yours to circle his thumb around your knuckles. It was a moment of tenderness during the dinner date. Enjoying a date in an alley for the first time was a new experience for the both of you. His expectations were kept low by how you would react to the surprise. He did a great job making you happy though. Why wouldn’t you settle down in a finely decorated alley for dinner? This will end up being forever treasured in your memory. Your fiancé leans in to kiss you. He pulls back so he could stare into your eyes softly. He loved you so much, and he never chose to waste that.

“That’s good to hear, doll face.”

Suddenly, your thoughts were interrupted by a faint cry of a man from the town’s plaza. It sounded as if he was about to die. Your body began to startle from the abrupt situation. The man finds his way into the alley until he recognized you. He looked to be a criminal, but there was something else more questionable: was he wearing Red Dragon attire? There was some blood splatter covering his outfit.

“You,” he announced while panting for air, “I’ve been trying to look for you. Kabal’s little whore I assume?”

You didn’t know how to react. You were hesitant on running the hell out of the alley, but the guy might kill you easy. Your voice shook, “W-what do you want from me? What did you do to Kabal?”

Your response made him raise an eyebrow. Before he makes a move, a burst of purple ran into the man, pinning him against a wall by his neck. The guy was unrecognizable with burnt scars over his skin while also wearing a mask. His clothes looked somewhat similar to what your fiancé has worn before leaving the Black Dragon. He also had hooks words with him. Your mind soon took in the realization. Could this strange individual be Kabal all along?

“If I ever see any of your punk asses around here again, I’d be more than welcome to track you all down just like your buddy! Got it!?”

Your heart dropped. His voice. It had to be Kabal. It was sort of muffled by the mask, but it indeed sounded like him. The Red Dragon member was let go to run off from the area, never to come back again. Your face stirred with worry as you couldn’t believe it was your fiancé. How did his body get burnt up so badly? You rose from your seat to approach the man. He wiped off some blood splatter from his arm after a piece of work he handled. You began to question, “Kabal, is that you?”

He quickly looks up at your face before turning against you, attempting to walk away. You soon grab him by the wrist to stop him, but he pulls away from you. You grip him again by his arm this time. It’s doesn’t matter how hard you try. Kabal keeps resisting you.

“What happened to you? Answer me, please!”

Kabal roughly pulls away from your grip and turns to you, “Get the fuck off me!”

Your body remained still with eyes widening. You have never seen him act like this towards you before. He treated you with love and respect constantly as you were a couple. The joy of him being able to see you again was all gone. Something must have affected him greatly.

“Kabal…talk to me. What’s gotten into you? I never heard from you since you left to work with Stryker,” your words began to stumble, “I…I miss you…”

You rushed in to hug him with tears streaming in your eyes. Your fiancé tries his best to push you off him. It didn’t matter though. You care about Kabal. You wished to comfort him from whatever caused him to earn body scars. All you want was for him to come home with you and talk.

“I said. Get. Off.”

He manages to push you back aggressively. Kabal was an entirely different man now. This can’t be real, right?

His voice raised heavily, “It isn’t worth being around you anymore. Ever since the shit show this four-armed freak made, I’ve got other things to worry about than some engagement.”

You slowly back away from him as he turns against you. You hope to the Elder Gods this engagement never came to an end, but it apparently would be.

“We’re best off not seeing each other again. Goodbye, Y/N.”

With that, he rushes off elsewhere distant from you. You immediately fell to your knees sobbing. You feel your stomach tied to a knot due to what happened just now. There was no way Kabal chooses to throw this all away. The wonderful dates, his protection given to you, those precious reminders about how much he loves you. Hell, even the wedding proposal was there, too. They will never come into fruition anymore after his departure. There is a strong indication of him returning to the Black Dragon, which was ran by that one-eyed scumbag Kano. Still, your heart aches for him. You wanted him to return for comfort, but now all you feel is emptiness. You had nobody by your side. Only time will tell what could possibly happen next.

#mortal kombat #mk kabal #kabal #kabal x reader #fanfic #blissfic #sfw

[tendo-64]

Doodle for the occasion because I was wrecked by the end of claus's journey so now so do y'all!

Anyway, review time, as well as screens and whatnot if you want to see the major differences without playing through 26 hours yourself lol (massive wall of text incoming). Or you can just enjoy (or not enjoy because it's sad) the angsty doodle. (I'll be drawing more and will post the doodles and this one on their own too)

(Warning for the record that I will be discussing the darkest elements of this game, which means I will be discussing suicide--more so because this romhack addresses it slightly more than the base game did as it subtly acknowledges Claus was the one who died in the original near the end.)

Claus's Journey was really fun. For anyone who hasn't seen my older posts, it's a romhack in which Claus is the protagonist and Lucas is the Masked Man (AKA the Mother 3 Swap AU, but playable). It changes dialogue in addition to sprites to accommodate for the differences in personality. Claus also has narration and isn't a silent protag so you get to see his thoughts on things.

To summarize the main differences: Claus in this version was going to still fight the Drago, until Lucas asks to come with and gets called a crybaby, which angers him and he decides to go kill it himself (knocking out Claus to keep him from following), as he's tired of everyone treating him like he's weak and helpless. Obviously, he never comes home.

MOTHER 3 is an interesting game because it sets Claus up as the typical RPG protagonist, and then kills him off in the first chapter and has his less-typical brother fill his shoes as the hero instead. In a regular game, Claus would've come home from the Drago somehow having survived and everyone would've praised him for being "stronger than we thought" or whatever, but instead he gets kidnapped and brainwashed into becoming a(n anti-) villain. He's the game's antithesis--where Lucas is patience, forgiveness, optimism, and fights only to protect his family, Claus is impulsivity, holds grudges, is unable to move past his trauma, and fought for vengeance to give himself peace of mind from his pain. The Masked Man then goes onto be the ironic representation of the dark path he was headed down: anger and violence for the sake of it, long since having forgotten his original motivations (of course, he was brainwashed against his will, but it's still worth mentioning that parallels can be drawn to those who repress their memories and lash out as a result of trauma, albeit very exaggerated)

So, if you flip that on its head, the whole thing changes. Now Claus is, pretty much a typical RPG protag. His arc is about "recklessness" instead of being a crybaby, where he has to learn to be more thoughtful and tactful.

And Lucas becomes an elaboration of a theme MOTHER 3 implies but never really went in depth with for Claus: the dangers of not taking trauma seriously or expecting someone to just "move past it." He keeps getting called a crybaby, and he snaps. But at the same time, him becoming the Masked Man feels even more disturbing to me because, instead of it feeling like a Claus who's been corrupted, had his negative traits amplified and his positive ones removed, it's not recognizable as something Lucas is at all. It's a massive stark contrast (was for Claus too, but I think Lucas even more so)

I definitely prefer the original dynamic in the original game, as it's more unique and is a big part of the game's identity, but this dynamic is interesting too, if mostly for Lucas and Claus only in the context of it being "what if Claus had a slightly more normal childhood"

At the end, at the ending monologue, Claus has something more to say. The player expresses concern for him and Claus gives his thoughts on Lucas's death: he says that he understands why Lucas did what he did, but then seems to acknowledge his own canonical fate as he's quick to reassure us that he's looking forward to his future and doesn't want to leave his family behind--that he thinks things will be okay and he's happy to be here.

That honestly hit me harder than anything else--it's so sweet hearing Claus of all characters tell us he'll never leave this world behind and he has hope in his future. But it also hurts when you realize that this ending is a blessing and a curse. Claus is happy and will continue living his life, but it came at the expense of Lucas's happy ending. If Claus knew this was a scenario where his brother suffered his own fate instead, he'd have never wanted it that way. Moreover, it's heartbreaking to see Lucas--the character who's known for being someone who can push through hardship no matter what, who can lose everything and still have the strength to go on, who can say he loves life and heals from everything he's been put through... die. It feels so wrong and disturbing--much more so than Claus's death in the original because Lucas had a happy ending, and this hack takes from him.

Claus's Journey is something one might play because they wanted to see an ending where Claus heals from his trauma and lives. But then you realize it's not really a better ending when Lucas had to take his place. It is nice seeing Claus talk about his faith in his future, but in many ways it feels worse that Lucas won't.

I think I'll go with Claus Lives AU instead if I want to see Claus live gdjgjd

But in all seriousness, I enjoyed the romhack. I recommend it, even if some of the new dialogue doesn't mesh with the original writing style perfectly, and some lines feel slightly forced, it can be overlooked.

Anyway, review out of the way, here's some screenshots.

(I regretfully didn't screenshot anything from ch1 because I wasn't posting about my playthrough back then, so I'm going to use screens from a YouTube playthrough by GreenieBoi just for chapter 1)

And here's Claus telling Flint about Lucas:

After this, changes are minor until timeskip.

I didn't screenshot most of Claus's narration, but here's some other noteworthy screens:

I made a post for Tanetane Island already, so I won't share those here

Bro called the duck toilet dumb >:(

Porky says this after Claus tells him the Masked Man is Lucas:

If Claus tries to fight Lucas:

I recorded Lucas's death and last words since there's too much to screen.

Claus monologue that hit hard

And I think that's it! This took a while to write, and probably took a while to read, but thanks for reading!

#tw: sui mention #mother 3 #mother 3 spoilers #mother 3 swap #claus's journey #tw: mild gore

[fanatiquee]

❓ + Is there some measure of relief that Paul was taken from you, that the burden of his life was lifted from you?

SEND ❓+ A QUESTION AND MY MUSE HAS NO CHOICE BUT TO ANSWER TRUTHFULLY status: accepting

A thoughtful hum, a furrow of the brows. The sting of a distant pain that clarifies his gaze. “You are asking this question of a vampire who, now, having endured two hundred years, can only conjure Paul as if he were born to the world a shade. My memories are clarified only by the pain of his loss, and it is only that this loss has never entirely released me that I remember him at all. I have seen such visions of him that I can imagine his shape, but I strain to recall such things as his voice, a voice that to me was once the most precious of sounds. There is a phrase that every Frenchmen of a certain age knows, it does not come from my generation, but it nevertheless applies here, to my loss of Paul. It is that, the loss of him all but depeopled the world. I cannot remember who coined this phrase, one of the morbid French Romantics who was once beloved by me. In any case, in a way this is no longer true, so one might be forced to conclude that his loss is less meaningful to me, now. Or that it has taken on some other shape, some other dimension, which is unknown to me. But I don’t believe this is the case. I know for a fact that if Paul had not been taken from me, I could never have forsaken the daylight to become a vampire. As long as Paul was a creature of daylight, I would have been content to exist in mortal blindness, simply to stand at his side, and to know him, and to see him grow to eclipse me in every way, and to die an old man, knowing he would outlive me and that I would never know the pain of his loss. Like a father, who never conceives of the loss of his child, I had never imagined a world in which Paul did not exist. There is no word for this, a father who loses a child, a brother who loses a brother. I was both, brother and father. And so my loss was inconceivable. Can I now look back with some of what I might call my detachment, and understand that Paul’s death liberated me of a responsibility I bore without my own awareness of it? Yes, I can see it. I can see that in Paul I was chained, not only to him, and to my sister, and my mother, and the stone of my father’s tomb, but to all the mundanity that was mortal life. All of its cruelty and necessity. And, yet, as I have said, if not for Paul’s dying I would never have become a vampire, and it was in becoming a vampire that I was freed of these things. But I was also bound to them all the more powerfully. It was as a vampire that I felt the true pain of my loss of Paul, and in my pursuit of vengeance, vengeance against myself, that I became a vampire. In some ways, the burden of him became greater only when his life was stolen from me.” 

#ᴛʜᴇ ғɪʀsᴛ ғʀᴀᴛʀɪᴄɪᴅᴇ : ᴘᴀᴜʟ #[ all these asks become a wall of text f <3 ] #thank you!!!! #ask memes

[mintmatcha]

quickie - dabi X hero!reader

Dabi x cis!fem reader

CW: public sex, voyeurism, standing sex, doll as a nickname, praise

 a/n: thanks to shan’s discover server for dealing with my bullshit creating this <3

   "We can't keep doing this."

The figure, leaned against the graffitied brick of a building, tosses back his hood as he takes another drag from his cigarette.  The black of his hair, streaked with the occasional red, shines under the streetlamp.  His burns are worse than the last time you’ve seen him, stretching from his face to his knuckles.

"You say that everytime." Dabi drops the cigarette butt and crushes it under the heel of his boot. "But you always come anyway."

You scuff your heel against the concrete, listening to how it echoes down the empty street. The dive bar you two stand in front of long ago cleared, all of the patrons disappearing into the night. 

Maybe heading home. Most likely not.

You should be heading home too.

"I'm only here because you asked me to be here." you ask cooly, forcing your eyes to stay glued to your phone. You don't look away until his tight grip clutches your shoulder. Against the chill of the night, his touch is comforting.

"Don't play coy." he scoffs, "I never asked you to be here, little hero."

You flinch at the nickname, checking your surroundings once again. Being recognized as a hero would mean trouble in this neighborhood. You already clearly don't belong; you had dressed nicely for a date- a date with another hero, someone good for you-

only to abandon him the moment this asshole texted you.

"I just told you I was bored," Dabi smirks, the stitches at the corners of his mouth pulling as he eyes you up, "And you decided to entertain me, apparently." 

You wish your heart wasn't beating out of your chest. You're not quite sure what it was about him- maybe the danger, maybe daddy issues, maybe the horrifying idea that you genuinely cared about him, maybe something entirely different- but you were wrapped around his fingers.

And he is well aware of it.

He hooks a finger under the strap of your dress and pulls it down and off your shoulder with a languid pace, eyes tracing over the exposed skin. "I like this. Kinda fancy, kinda skimpy-" His tongue runs over the edge of one of his incisors, his piercing catching the low light. "It's like you're asking for trouble."

You just shrug. "Maybe I am looking for trouble."

"I told you to stop playing coy." His hand cups your chin, dragging it up to look at him directly. His gaze is dark, hungry, and more than a little dangerous. "Are you here to get dicked down or what?"

You try to sound nonchalant, but your voice is high and tight in your throat. “If that’s what you want, I guess.” 

“Aw, come on now, lil hero. Don’t pretend to be a brat." he grins, pulling your head higher, “Lemme hear you say it. Tell me you came here to get fucked."

“I-” you hesitate.

“Come on, say it.” he takes your hand in his and, for a second, it's sweet- but then he guides it down to the front of his pants, cupping you over his crotch to feel the beginning of his excitement. "Say you wanna get fucked."

You swallow, and then gently squeeze his cock. "I want you to have sex with me."

"Nuh-uh. That's not what I said." he leans into you, lips brushing against yours, blue eyes never leaving yours, "Say you want me to fuck you."

"I want you to fuck me."

“Aw, dirty girl.” he purrs, "What would everyone think? The perfect sidekick, begging for a villain's cock?"

He closes the gap and catches the plush of your lip between his teeth- hard. You gasp and he doesn't waste the opportunity; his tongue finds yours, rushed and messy. 

The kiss breaks, a string of spit connecting your lips for a microsecond. "Turn around."

Before you can react, Dabi's hand grips your forearm and twists it behind you, forcing you against the wall. The prickle of the brick digs into your cheek, but you can't focus on the pain- only the heat of his hands: one holding you still, the over sliding up your skirt.

"H-here?" you whisper, but don't resist. "Someone could see."

"Yeah-" his chuckle is low, "That's the fun part." 

He's quick to flip the fabric up and over your ass, exposing your lacy panties to the night air. His palms your ass and shakes it, eyes glued to how it shakes and quivers under his touch.

"Very sexy." he coos almost mockingly, pulling the elastic of your panties so taut that it digs into your skin. You flinch when it snaps back, further pressing yourself into the wall, and Dabi laughs.

"Aw, sensitive little thing, aren'tcha?" he grinds against you, the rough fabric of his jeans doing nothing to hide the swell of his cock. It rubs between your ass cheeks, the friction of demin already burning. The only respite in the cool metal of his studded belt, smooth and slick against you.

"Are you sure you can handle this, baby?" he tugs you closer by the bicep, arching your back until your head falls back. Like this, he looks down at you, a wolfish grin on his face. "I'd be so sad if I broke you."

"No, you wouldn't-" your free arm slides down his front, thumb dipping into the waistband and fingers rolling over the buckle.

"Yeah, you're right." he helps you unclasp the buckle, the gentle tinkling the only sound that echoes down the empty street. It hits you then that, despite the late hour, someone could approach at any moment and catch you being fucked by a wanted criminal.

The scrape of denim is replaced by hot, smooth skin and a tickle of his happy trail. Dabi lets the weight of his cock fall against your folds and a warm trickle of precum grazes your cheek. The night only seems to be getting colder, but the latent heat of Dabi's skin only seems to build.

"Fuck--" he ruts up against you unexpectedly, "You're fucking dripping-" You can feel his cock sliding against you, the wetness of your arousal letting him easily slip between your thighs. The head of his cock ghosts near your clit, not nearly the pressure you need. "God, maybe I'll just fuck you like this-"

A whine escapes your throat before you can tamp it down. 

"Oh, don’t be a brat.” he pulls back, “I’ll make sure you get what you need.”

He digs into his pocket and pulls out a gold foil packet, flashing it to you. You two agreed on protection since the first hook up- your insistence. He quickly rips into it with his teeth and rolls the condom down, barely covering his length before he pushes against your entrance, his fat head easily popping inside despite the stretch. You expect him to fully bury himself in one stroke, like he always does, but he stays there inside you, his cock barely past the petals of your pussy. Impatiently, you wiggle back against him, desperate for more, but he braces against you.

"Slow down, now-" he clicks his tongue before pressing a surprisingly soft kiss into your temple. Then, he shoves you forward again, face smushed into the rocky brick. "Lemme enjoy this properly."

You teeter on your high heels, legs already shaking as he finally rolls his hips forward inch by inch. Under his breath, he mutters so low that you can't understand him, but you catch clippings of praise and curses.

His pace is unusually slow, letting you savor the fullness of his whole cock before he pulls back to the tip. His breath is uncomfortably warm against the back of your neck. The scent of ash and tobacco that clings to him makes your stomach turn, but you can't help but want more of it- more of him.

The hand of your hip, unnaturally warm, almost burning, slips around to the front of the panties, dipping into the fabric to trace supply circles around your clit. It's nice- soft and gentle-

but you don't fuck Dabi to be gentle.

With your free hand, you push against the wall, forcing him to sink into you, hard. "Fucking hell-" he chokes out a groan as you start bucking against him. He uses your forearm as leverage, pulling and pushing down his length faster and faster. "That's it-- bounce like that- oh, good girl-"

Your voice, pathetic and lewd, fills the stress, but Dabi does nothing to muffle it. Of course he doesn't- he likes the risk. He wants to be caught, wants people to see him splitting you in half. Anyone even remotely close would be able to hear the wet, sloppy sound of your pussy, but you can't find it in yourself to care.

Once you get the rhythm he wants, Dabi releases your arm and grabs on to the front of your dress, palming your tits through the fabric greedily. It's rough, almost bruising, squishing you solely for his pleasure.

"So soft," he breathes. After a moment, he decides the fondling isn't enough and wraps his fingers under the hem, digging into the fat of your chest. With a firm tug, he snaps the remaining strap, freeing one of your tits into the cool night air. You don't even have time to shiver before his hand takes it place against you. 

Dabi always runs warm, but something about sex- albeit the desire or the physical contact- makes him hot. The stroke of his hands, the lips across your shoulder blade, the dip of his stomach against your back- all of them leave ghosts, trails of goosebumps where heat used to be.

Even through the condom, his cock radiates heat deep inside your cunt, twitching and pulsing with every stroke. His fingertips never leave their mark, rolling your clit steadily. 

"Y-you gonna cum for me?" he says through his teeth, "Gonna let me f-feel it? Let me make you feel good? Oh, such a good girl for me--"

The pressure on your clit all at once becomes too much and you cum, knees wobbling and threatening to give out. Your pace threatens to falter, but Dabi muscles through it for you.

Dabi's lips find your neck, right below your jaw. A flick of the tongue is followed by the sharp pain of his teeth digging into the soft spot.  Overstimulation hits your quickly, your pussy twitching every stroke.

"'Is too much." you hiccup, reaching behind you blindly. You manage to caress his face, the staples warm and wet with his sweat. He nuzzles into the hand, a surprisingly sweet gesture.

"Just- just take it." he growls. The pace is suddenly lopsided, the rhythm gone as he starts to cum.

The gentle pulsing of his cock is immediately followed by pooling warmth. No, warmth is an understatement. It's hot, almost unbearably. You keen away from him, but he stays locked against you.

"G-get off," you hiccup, "You're t-too hot."

"You're not so bad yourself, doll." He withdrawals and quickly peels the condom off, tossing it to the side. He spins you around, running a thumb under your eye. Flecks of mascara and eyeliner stick to his skin. "Especially like this." he gestures to you as a whole. Running makeup, ripped dress, quivering legs, your own cum glossing your thighs- you look destroyed.

"You should walk around like this all the time." Dabi wipes his stomach with his shirt, haphazardly smearing the wetness more than cleaning it, before redoing his buckle. He takes his time, clearly not concerned about being exposed. "On second thought- nah. Just wear this for me." 

You shimmy your dress down, trying to cover your ass as quickly as possible. "You're disgusting." 

He throws his head back and laughs. "You didn't seem to think so a couple minutes ago." 

"Fuck you."

Dabi shakes a cigarette free from the carton and sticks it between his teeth. "Aw, doll-" he dots the tip with his finger and it alights, deep orange against the dark of the night. "You just did."

#dabi x reader #dabi smut #mha smut #dabi #touya smut #minors do not interact #hotstuff

[ecoamerica]

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#ACLA24 #ACLA24Leaders #youtube #youtube video #climate leaders #climate solutions #climate action #climate and environment #climate #climate change #climate and health #climate blog #climate justice #climate news #weather and climate #environmental news #environment #environmental awareness #environment and health #environmental #environmental issues #environmental justice #environment protection #environmental health #Youtube

[bratkook]

right now. (m) jjk.

not yet, almost , right now

pairing. jungkook x reader genre. fluff, smut, idiots to lovers!! word count. 14.8k warnings. two mega fucking idiots<33, miscommunication/dumb assumptions, smut in forms of: fingering, oral sex (f.), orgasm denial, spanking, some spit bc duh, unprotected sex, super sweet & lovey!! also jungkook is a sweetheart pls love him summary. coming to terms with your feelings after getting off to the idea of your close friend is a little harder than you thought, but how long can you take before jungkook decides its time to move on? note. did jlin forget how to write for a few weeks? yes, yes she did....i know this took a long time but life is rough man so forgive me... but anyways lol the final part to the not yet!verse is hereeeee! thank you to @kithtaehyung​ for reading this over for me ily!! thank you guys for enjoying this mini series, the response was really unexpected but im sososo happy over every comment/ask i’ve gotten for this story. once again, tysm for your love and let me know what you think<3

The evening sun illuminates Jungkook’s apartment, golden hour bouncing off every reflective surface and straight into his eyes the second he walks in, immediately squinting as he makes a beeline to shut the blinds. His head was already throbbing from the hangover that decided to peak around noon, a mean case of nausea putting a damper on his work day. So as much as he loved soaking in some vitamin D today was not the day. 

“Are you joking?” he huffs as he brings down the blinds, hand yanking at the flimsy string in an attempt to get it unstuck. “How stup—you’d think with the amount I pay every month in rent the blinds would work!” 

Alright, so maybe he was a little grumpy today, choosing to take it out on an inanimate object and blame it purely on the bad decisions made last night—definitely had nothing to do with the residual moping of you going on a date. This could be fixed, easily. 

The first order of business? Texting you to see if you’d be interested in devouring greasy food from your favorite place down the street. He’d get to see you and finally put something in his stomach, it’s the best of both worlds really. 

Jungkook forgets about the blinds, leaving them stuck in the awkward position as he walks away entirely, fishing his phone out of his pocket while he enters his room. It’s the same text he always sends when he’s hangry: If I don’t get food in the next 15 mins I'm burning this place down and taking you with me. 

He knows the response he’ll get, either that meme of the child in front of a burning house or an equally hangry paragraph. The phone gets tossed onto his bed as he changes out of his work clothes, needing to dispose of the business casual attire that was suffocating him, his old college hoodie giving him the comfort he needs. 

By the time he’s finally slipping on his sneakers he’s expecting you to come knocking on his door, your impatient attitude always putting a smile on his face. Half of the time your neighbors thought you were having arguments from the way you’d pound onto the slab of wood, saying his name with just enough annoyance laced into each syllable it would fool anyone into thinking you were actually upset instead of being a brat. But when that never comes, he reaches for his phone again. 

A few notifications fill up his screen, some instagram direct message previews, his group chat that he never responded to, and a few emails coming through, but you had yet to respond. Maybe it’s a little creepy, but Jungkook knows you’re home because he passed by your parked car on his way in. So his mind jumps to two extremes: you were either face down, drowning in your bathtub, or that yellow shades wearing wannabe version of himself was at your place. 

Not an ounce of shame sits within him as he speedwalks to the side his bed was on, placing both palms onto the wall before his ear was pressed against the cold drywall. Jungkook’s not really sure what would make him feel good, hearing you and Jung Hoseok together, or hearing nothing at all. His ears strain to hear anything, but the only sound he gets is his own blood pumping. 

With a small pout he pulls back, deciding he’d play the annoying neighbor role today and pound on your door instead. It’s a role he doesn’t take lightly, knuckles banging on the wood loud enough for you to hear wherever you were in your apartment. It takes a few minutes before any sign of life is shown, your door creaking open, and Jungkook is thankful because he was about to head to the maintenance office to ask for a key in case you actually were drowning in your bathtub. 

“C’mon, let’s get food,” he declares instantly, a charming smile on his face as he stands with his hands stuffed into his jean pockets. The smile slowly falls off when he gets a good look at you, hair looking like a mess on your head and your fluffy blanket draped around you as you give out a weak cough. “Are you sick?”

“I think so,” you rasp out, leaning against your door frame and tugging the blanket tighter around you. 

“Did that fucker give you mono?” Jungkook looks irritated, brows pinched together in a grimace—something you’re definitely not accustomed to seeing so you almost don’t catch his accusation.

“Jungkook, no! It’s nothing serious.”

He doesn’t look fully convinced, but he shrugs anyways, positive you weren’t interested in getting interrogated when you were feeling under the weather. “Alright, let me know if you need me to drive you to the doctor if it becomes something serious.”

With a roll of your eyes and a small smile, you wave him off, slowly shutting the door behind you. Your eye immediately peeks through your peephole, not relaxing until he makes his way down the hall and enters the elevator, still on his quest for greasy food. 

“God, how old are you?” you grumble to yourself, yanking the blanket off your body and onto the floor with a huff. Pretending to be sick to avoid your friend was a new low, especially after the post-orgasm epiphany you had last night. A sane person would come to terms with their feelings and confess to them, uncertainty and possible rejection be damned! But you? No, you have to fake a cold like the giant coward you are. 

The guilt only deepens when a knock comes from your door an hour later, a quick peek through your peephole allowing you to see Jungkook setting two plastic bags on the floor before stepping back and walking to his apartment next door. You don’t come out until you hear his door shut, seeing the logo of your favorite diner down the street. No doubt would your comfort meal be inside the takeaway container. 

It takes all you have to not rush over to his place and say you were lying when you see he had also gone ahead and got you cold medication, a few different bottles because he surely didn’t know which was best, along with teas and some cough drops. 

You’re a dirty liar. A horrible friend too. 

That doesn’t stop you from devouring the meal in the takeout box as you’re hunched over your breakfast bar like a little gremlin. “This is just for today,” you mumble out to yourself as you set the plastic fork down and chug some of the leftover alcohol you had in your fridge. It’s your own version of a pity party, except the food feels heavy in your stomach, knowing the man you were avoiding was the one who bought it—bring on the guilt. 

“I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

You’re a dirty liar and horrible friend 2.0. Why this time? Because tomorrow stretched out a few more days than planned. It wasn’t entirely intentional at first, getting stuck at work longer than usual and missing the weekly hangout at your place where you got your remote covered in cheeto dust as you argued over what to watch. But it trickled down onto shorter replies to his texts, or you scrambling out of your apartment and into the elevator so fast in order to not run into him, your mind still trying to list all the pros and cons to this potential relationship before you even had the guts to confess to your feelings. 

Jungkook didn’t know thats what was occupying your mind, no he was currently thinking the worst. He notices the change instantly, recognizing it because this was the exact way you had acted while you were with Hajoon, right before you broke the news to him that you needed to keep some distance while you focused on your relationship. So Jungkook automatically assumes that your sudden change in behavior after going on a single date with Jung Hoseok, was because you wanted to make your relationship with this man work. 

His assumption stings—a lot actually—and soon enough he stops initiating conversations altogether. He didn’t want to hear you tell him you had to distance yourself again, he’s not sure his heart could handle that a second time, so he decides to get ahead of the curb and take a massive step away from you. It hurts him to know you’re right next door, and just like before, it’s like you’re back to being total strangers. 

Safe to say Jungkook was currently going on his own downward spiral. 

You could text him like nothing had happened and he’d accept it with open arms, but instead you text your best friend an SOS text, begging her to meet you at your place. She calls you dramatic at first, but once you say it’s about Jungkook she shows up at your place in record time. 

“Did you finally fuck him?” Is her greeting of choice, spoken shamelessly from the hallway with no worry about her volume. She cackles when you yank the bottle of wine from her grasp and tug her into your apartment, letting the door slam behind her. 

“You’re lucky he’s not home you bitch.” An eye roll is her only response, yanking the bottle back and making her way into your kitchen to grab the opener. 

“So you didn’t fuck him?” The cork pops at her question, a curious glance staring you down as she pours the red liquid into an oversized cup. 

“No Seulgi, I didn’t fuck him. But I did...something.” It makes your face warm up as you remember it, gratefully grabbing the cup she hands your way because you definitely need some liquid courage before confessing to your sins.

She hums in thought as she raids your pantry for something to munch on, settling on a bag of mini pretzels before leading you to your couch, needing to know the gossip that led to your sos text. “Okay, did you accidentally send him a nude then?”

“No, that wouldn’t be so bad I think?” Sending him an accidental nude would be laughable, probably resolved by a few screaming texts and dumb jokes before moving on. But new feelings seeing the light of day seemed so much worse. “But I sort of kissed him at a club a few weeks ago to get back at Hajoon—long story,” you cut in when you see her ready to fire off questions. 

“And then I went on that failed Tinder date I told you about, and when I got home I sort of heard him, you know,”— you mimic a jerking off motion with your hand and ignore her lewd gasp, “and then I…” you trail off shamefully. 

“No!” she gasps even louder, hand pressed to her mouth and eyes wide. 

“Yes! And the fucking orgasm opened my eyes and made me realize that maybe that tiny crush you guys always joke about him having is real, and maybe I have a tiny crush on him too.”

“Does he know?”

“That I like him?”

“No, that you rubbed one out while listening to him you dirty slut!” Oh she’s loving this, leaning back into your cushions with a handful of pretzels resting on her boobs, a sly smile on her lips as she takes a sip of her wine. She’s the one who planted the seed in your mind, playfully joking about Jungkook any chance she got, saying he had the hots for you because she enjoyed the flustered look on your face. No doubt would she text the group chat with the news the second you finish this cry for help. 

“Do you think I told him? I can barely come to terms with the fact that I like him. Like what am I supposed to do?”

She sighs dramatically, munching on the final pretzel on her tits before sitting up and dusting off the crumbs from her shirt. “Look, I know you’re just realizing that he likes you so this is still new and fresh for you, but we’ve noticed it for years. It’s fine that you didn’t see it, you had other things occupying your mind.” 

You frown as you stare at the rug beneath your feet, remembering how life was when you first moved into this complex. Getting out of a previous relationship weeks prior, when you had met Jungkook your mind was not interested in pursuing anything with him regardless of how cute you thought he was. It made it easier for you to form a friendship, not worried about trying to impress him, or flirt with him, allowing him to see you for who you truly are. 

Jungkook had his fair share of girlfriends during the years, none of which were entirely serious but by the time he was completely single you had met Hajoon, and he had accepted the fact that maybe you were better off as friends and he would just admire you from afar. That is, until you decided to plant one on him. So technically this is your fault. 

“Jungkook likes you okay, and I’m sure if you just marched next door and told him you like him too he’ll drop on one knee and marry you.”

“Shut up,” you snort, shoving her shoulder with a smile. 

“As a matter of fact, go over there right now!” She stands up from her spot, yanking your arms to haul you up with her. 

“I told you, he’s not home. But, I’ll tell him. I have to.”

Seulgi crosses her arms over her chest as she stares at you, clearly displeased that she wouldn’t be witness to this love story unfolding in real time. “You better. You never know what sneaky little bitch is trying to get him to get over you.”

The sneaky little bitch in question is Park Jimin, currently sitting directly across from Jungkook, guzzling down beer like his life depends on it. It's impressive really, how quickly he empties the cup, eyes shut looking as content as could be even in the dim lighting. Jungkook can only watch with a grimace as his friend sets the glass down and wipes at his mouth with no sense of table manners. 

“What?” he burps, proceeding to pour more of the golden liquid into his cup from the pitcher in the middle of the table. 

“I always forget how absolutely disgusting you are. How do you do it?” Jimin just frowns at the question, not entirely understanding so Jungkook continues. “What switch do you flip to go from sipping champagne to chugging beer like a fucking biker.”

“It’s a talent, I know.” He smiles wide, reaching forward to grip Jungkook’s hand and force him to grab his own cup. Condensation was pooling around the bottom from sitting there untouched, and that just wouldn’t do on Jimin’s watch. “C’mon, drink it!”

“Fine,” Jungkook grumbles, raising the glass and allowing Jimin to clank the cups together before taking a big gulp. He doesn’t clear the cup like his friend did seconds prior but it's enough to appease him. It tastes absolutely bitter the whole way down, settling into his stomach uncomfortably, and the look on his face as he pushes the glass away from him is very telling. 

Boisterous shouts fill the sports bar they were in, huddles of people surrounding the tables and booths as they watched the current soccer match playing on the televisions lining the walls. Jungkook honestly feels like a debby downer now, moping in his seat instead of enjoying the atmosphere with his friend like they normally did. The current game was definitely not the reason Jungkook had texted Jimin to grab drinks, no he needed an outlet to talk about you—preferably in a space that didn’t have walls as thin as his apartment.  

When he barely acknowledges the plate of wings set in front of him Jimin huffs, resisting the urge to dig in because he knew once he did he wouldn’t be able to focus on anything else. “Are you gonna be like this the entire time?”

“Like what?” Jungkook has the gall to ask, acting as if he wasn’t looking like a wounded animal. 

“Like you just discovered your wife of ten years is having an affair with your sister.”

He sits up straighter at that, eyes wide in disbelief. “Jesus.“

Jimin knew the jist of what was happening through the texts he had received the past week, but it seems like Jungkook didn’t want to jump into the topic of it at all now that they were sitting across from each other. He just sighs before deciding to be honest, wasting no time beating around the bush to hopefully be the voice of reason Jungkook needs. “You’ve been simping over her for years JK, and I get it, you think she could be the one. But what about you huh? It’s not fair for you to have your heart wrung out each time she gets a man and decides to put the friendship on pause—“

“That happened once!” He defends, brows pinched on his forehead as he shakes his head, ready to explain your situation because he wasn’t a fan of hearing his friend say anything about you when he didn’t truly know what happened. “The dude was a piece of shit and basically told her it was him or me. I’m not gonna crucify her for wanting a long term relationship to work.”

“Right, so she’s not icing you out again because she got a new man? That’s literally what you told me, it’s why I bought you this sympathy pitcher of beer!”

“Fuck you, you bought this pitcher for yourself.” Jimin had chugged two giant glasses of beer already, and was steadily working on his third, whereas Jungkook’s watered down cup remained relatively untouched. “Besides, I was just...spiraling and assumed when I sent you that desperate text. But I haven’t heard anything.”

Jimin can only stare blankly at the table as he processes what was just said before locking eyes with his friend once more, “Sorry, what? You haven’t heard anything? The hell kind of riddle is that.”

Jungkook sinks into the booth with a look of shame, not wanting to admit to occasionally laying in his bed at night in complete and total silence just to see if he could hear you and the hypothetical version of Jung Hoseok doing literally anything. It’s not one of his proudest moments, feeling like a bit of a creeper as he laid stiff on his bed, too scared to make a sound.  “Nothing, forget about it. Point is, I haven’t seen the fucker come in or out of her place, so what does that mean?”

A deep sigh comes from Jimin, hand reaching forward to push the beer closer to Jungkook, desperately trying to get him to drink and ease up. “It means you pay far too much attention to her. When was the last time you got any action?”

Two weeks ago. From his hand and filthy imagination. 

“A few months,” he grumbles, remembering his last hook up that happened a few days before he discovered you got dumped. 

“Get outta here.” Jimin rolls his eyes as he points to the door. “Literally, go stand at the corner outside, show some thighs or a tattooed titty and take your pick of the swarm of girls that will surely follow you.”

Jungkook thinks he’s joking, but when his friend doesn’t drop his hand and narrows his eyes threateningly he knows he’s being serious. “My tits aren’t even tattooed,”—his large palms press against his shirt covered chest as if to prove a point— “And you sound like a douchebag talking like this.”

“What? She went on a tinder date and definitely got laid, so you need to even out the playing field. Also, it might help you chill the hell out.”

“Oh my god, you’re not helping.” Jungkook really didn’t need that visual again, it had flashed in his mind too often the night of his pity party and now it was once again at the front of his brain. 

“Alright, okay. I’m throwing out my safe word right now.” Jimin leans closer, arms resting on the table with a confused look on his face. “What do you need from me here? Like, do I play the role of a supportive friend who wants you to get over her, or do I play the role of a friend who wants you to confess? Because you’re giving me some mixed signals Jeon.”

A groan escapes Jungkook, fingers rubbing at his eyes before dragging down his face as he sinks even further into his seat. “I don’t know.” 

It’s the truth. Jungkook had no idea what he wanted his friend to do to help him. He knew that although his feelings for you have weighed heavy on his chest for what seems like years, you technically had no idea, so he feels a little guilty over his frustration for the whole situation. You were newly single again and determined to go through this self proclaimed wild phase so Jungkook isn’t dumb enough to think you can’t go out and do whatever you want, even if that means being with someone who isn’t him. 

“Look,” Jimin sighs, pulling him out of his thoughts. “You only have two choices here, tell her how you feel and accept whatever comes with it, or make peace with the idea of just being friends. Either way, I think you need to loosen up and have fun tonight.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Jungkook sits himself up, wrapping his fingers around the cup in an effort to at least look like he wanted to be here. He couldn’t sit here and mope about a problem like this when he hadn’t attempted to come out and tell you how he feels. 

One night of loosening up to get you off his mind wouldn’t hurt, if anything it might help him come to his senses. At least that’s what Jimin was currently whispering with a mischievous smile on his lips. “It’ll be fine, I’ll make sure you don’t black out and get home safe. Who knows, you might get plastered enough to drunk text your confession.”

Jungkook glares at his friend, not liking the goofy look on his face as he starts to laugh. “I swear to god, you better not let me get to that point. Take my phone away from me.”

Jimin obviously wants to see the world burn, or at least he enjoys it when Jungkook somehow digs himself into his own grave. That's exactly why he responds with a million laughing emojis when Jungkook texts him asking why the hell he hadn’t taken his phone last night. 

He did a good job hiding his shock when a knock came from his front door, half expecting it to be you, keeping a smile on his face as he allowed  the person who was very clearly not you in before swiftly entering his bathroom. Jungkook wants to stay locked here forever, holed up while he sits on his toilet and not in the living room with company. It wasn’t like it was bad company either, his drunken ass going through his contact list and sending an invitation to hangout the following day to the last person he spoke to, Aillie. 

The girl is sweet, someone he had a casual fling with for months, someone who was used to his random texts so she doesn’t think twice before agreeing. The only silver lining to this was that he hadn’t sent you a typo-filled drunken confession, which is what Jimin responds with before telling him to suck it up and leave his bathroom. 

Jungkook accepts his fate, as well as accepting that he is partially responsible for this. He shoves his device back into his pockets before standing up and flushing the toilet for show, washing his hands just to stall. One good glance at his reflection makes him cringe, stained shirt and sweats combo leaves him looking like the unprepared mess he is. Another detour through his room to change was a must before he has no choice but to step back out. 

“You’re totally hung over aren’t you?” Aillie jokes from her spot on the couch, comfortable enough in his apartment from the time spent here. She locks her phone as she stands up, taking her time to really look Jungkook over. He was not dressed like someone who was expecting a guest, and despite having seen Jungkook at his sloppiest, his previous attire of oversized shirt and slightly stained sweatpants didn’t look like someone who was expecting a fuck buddy to pop over. Even with his new outfit looking more put together, it was obvious Jungkook was caught off guard by her showing up. 

“What?” Jungkook dumbly asks, trying to come up with some lame excuse to justify his earlier appearance but he falls short. His fingers gently rake through his hair, a grimace falling on his face as he looks back up at her. “Actually, a little. Sorry, I got drunk last night when I text you so sober me was not really prepared.”

“Yeah I figured, you sent me some blurry selfies right after. But we can just hang, we don’t have to do anything,” she trails off, a soft smile on her lips. The only time they ever hung out was to hook up, having ten minute conversations before and after the fact. “Or I can leave too if it's weird that I’m here.” 

Jungkook is shaking his head before she can even finish, already feeling bad enough after texting her to come over. How shitty would he be if he immediately kicked her out. This was fine, a nice distraction from it all, decent middle ground that would help him get his mind off you without having to take Jimin’s douchebag advice. 

“No, we can watch a movie or something. It’s not like I have other plans.” Had this been two weeks ago it would be a totally different story. Jungkook would typically be waiting in his apartment as he stared at the slowly ticking clock, just waiting for it to strike 7:30 because that's when you usually got home. Then he’d either get a text from you to come over with snacks or you’d show up at his door and invite yourself over for the weekly game night. 

It didn’t happen last week, or the week prior, so Jungkook is very confident that it would not be happening today either. It’s that same sense of confidence—and saltiness—that allows him to get comfortable with Aillie, blissfully unaware that you had just pulled into the parking garage a few stories below. 

“I swear to god if you don’t go straight to his door the minute you get off the elevator I will never let you live it down.” Seulgi’s voice fills your car through the speakers, fading out as you shut the car off and bring your phone to your ear to continue the conversation. 

“Dude, I just got off work. I need to make myself look decent.” Plastic bags rustle together as you grab the snacks you had picked up on your way home, all full of yours and Jungkook's favorite treats. It was definitely a guilt fueled purchase, hoping the items were enough to distract him from the fact that you were kind of a bitch for ghosting him recently, or at least butter him up into accepting your apology easier. 

“You think Jungkook cares if you’re a little sweaty from work? He’s a grown man, that’s not gonna stop him from going do—“

“Okay, goodbye!” You hastily cut her off as you press the elevator button, hearing her rambling off about being interrupted. “I’m about to get on the elevator, I’ll tell you how it goes.”

With a small sigh you hang up and stuff the device into your purse, stepping onto the lift as the doors open up and pressing the number for your floor. Your hands are clammy as you grip the plastic bag, uncharacteristically nervous about seeing Jungkook again after so long. 

The main obstacle for you to get over was apologizing for being a crappy friend, and if that went well you were going to suck it up and just come out and confess, the odds of him saying no were slim. And even if he did, you’re perfectly content with staying friends, as long as you could keep him close. 

It’s that same optimistic mentality that allows you to calm down as you enter your place and decide to give yourself a minute to mentally prepare. His favorite ice cream gets put into the freezer for later before you decide to shower and give yourself a pep talk the entire time. 

This pep talk of yours is filled with best case scenarios: Jungkook accepting the confession with open arms, finally being able to kiss him properly, everything falling into place the way it should have a long time ago. And as you head over, totally sober, freshly washed, looking and smelling your best, you really can’t picture this going any other way. 

With a deep breath you’re knocking on his front door, quickly pulling back your hand and wiping it onto your pants as you step back. Jungkook hears the knock clearly from his spot on the couch, his gaze tearing away from the television to stare at his front door with a small frown. He hadn’t ordered any food and Aillie had just excused herself to use his bathroom so his brain is having a hard time wondering who it could be. 

He curses under his breath, not putting it past himself to have texted a second person last night with an invitation to hang out. Why was Jungkook a friendly drunk?

As he presses his eye against the peephole and spots you standing there, he thinks he’s imagining things. It had seemed like so long since he had last seen you in person, and the warped fish-eyed version of you has him stepping back and rubbing his eyes before taking another glance. He suddenly feels like throwing up, and he can’t blame his earlier hangover on it. 

For a brief second he contemplates pretending he hadn’t heard you, but the guilt of doing so makes his heart twist, so he musters up the courage to open the door. It’s barely a crack really, just enough for you to see him while still concealing his apartment, something you definitely found strange because you’re usually flinging the door open and strutting right in, but you suppose his reaction is warranted considering your previous behavior. 

“Y/N, hey. Are you alright?”

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine!” Your fingers tangle together in front of you, not entirely sure what to do with your nerves and Jungkook spots it easily. His own nerves sky rocket when he hears the sound of running water coming from his bathroom a few feet away, knowing Aillie would most likely pop out any second now, and he’s not sure why it feels like a dirty secret that he has another girl over. 

“Did you need something?”

“Yeah, I was actually wanting to talk to you about something kind of important.” Your smile is hopeful, despite the nerves swirling in your eyes. The nervous skip of your heart is felt in your throat, not remembering the last time you had felt this way about telling someone how you felt about them romantically. 

“Right now?” he wonders, fingers gripping the door handle tighter when he hears his bathroom door unlock, the sound of footsteps rounding the corner before stepping into the living room, a few feet away from the door and in perfect view of the wedge Jungkook had opened. 

When your eyes flicker over his shoulder, spotting the auburn haired girl giving you a curious glance, you feel all your confidence slip away. Seulgi had definitely been right about needing to confess soon, Jungkook was a catch and just because you hadn’t realized it sooner didn’t mean the rest of the world was blind to it. 

“Yeah, right now...but you’re busy, so it’s fine!” You want to scramble away from there, feeling dumb the longer you stand there. Jungkook wants to say he’s not busy, kick the girl out of his place and invite you in but that wouldn’t be fair to her, for all he knew your important conversation would be a repeat of the conversation you had over Hajoon, and he really didn't want to get friendship dumped while this girl was in his apartment. He’s pretty sure his Yelp rating would drop a bit if he cried on the couch about you to his old hook up. 

He starts to speak but you cut him off before he can, “Don’t worry about it! I’ll see you later.” You force a smile before walking away, not allowing him to get a word in as you quickly step into your apartment and move to the furthest room away from your bedroom. 

You can feel the cold of your kitchen floor as you sit on your butt, back against your cabinets, the small twinge of defeat spreading within you. “This is fine. Maybe she’s just a friend. I can always tell him tomorrow,” you whisper out. But your fingers seem to think otherwise as they type out a message to Seulgi, informing her that the mission was unsuccessful and you’d be putting on The Notebook like you always did. It was basically protocol to do so when things went south in your life. 

She doesn’t even know how to console you, knowing she can’t tell you it was his loss or that he wasn’t worth it because she knows that’d be a lie and you wouldn’t believe it for a second. The only thing she can offer is coming over, but you’re quick to turn her down, deciding that being alone in the comfort of your bed as you inhaled the ice cream you bought for Jungkook would be best. 

Is being in your room the wisest choice when you know you share a wall with Jungkook—and he has a cute girl over? No. Probably not. But you figure if you hear anything explicit it’s just your dose of karma, so you accept it, turning up the volume of the movie a few levels just to soften the blow. 

However, Jungkook would definitely not be hooking up with her in his bedroom, or anywhere in his apartment for that matter. Luckily Aillie is blessed with the gift of reading the damn room and can easily spot the shift in Jungkook’s mood the second he shuts the door. She’s sitting on the edge of the couch now, hands gently placed on her knees as she gives him a sympathetic smile. 

“I get the vibe that somethings off.”

He looks up at her then, slowing his pace until he’s awkwardly standing in the middle of the room with his hands shoved deep into his pockets. “My friend—my neighbor just wanted to talk about something. But everything’s fine.”

The lie tastes bitter on his tongue, and Aillie doesn’t believe him in the slightest. A small sigh fills the air as she stands up, collecting her bag and approaching him. “Look, I know deep talks really aren’t our thing so I’m not going to even try to dive into this, but you should go talk to your friend.”

A comforting hand is placed on his shoulder before she makes her way to the door to leave, Jungkook already following closely behind her. “No, you don’t have to go. You came all this way because I texted you with way too much tequila in my system.”

“Jungkook,” she laughs, opening the door with a smile. “You’re way too sweet for your own good. It was nice seeing you though.” Her eyes slowly move over to your front door before looking back at him, head cocking to the side in a very clear indication that he better go over. He can only nod in understanding, waving her goodbye and shutting the door once she heads down to the elevator. 

The action sounds of the movie they were watching continues to fill his apartment, whatever chaos was going on only making his brain whirl so he’s quick to grab the remote and shut it off entirely. Now he’s just stuck in complete silence, wondering if he should quickly make his way over to yours or play it calm and collected. 

The total silence allows him to hear the muffled mumbling of a movie he knew all too well. It draws him in, lures him into his bedroom until he’s kneeling on the mattress with his ear pressed against the wall to properly make it out. You were watching the Notebook, at a concerning volume, which could mean a number of things. Jungkook knew none of them were good, usually rooted in issues you had with your ex, or a tough day at work, or any particular day where you just felt like crying. 

With a deep breath, he’s slowly knocking along his wall, almost experimentally, hoping it's enough to grab your attention through the current scene playing. For a second he thinks maybe you’ve fallen asleep while watching the film, but then the room falls silent as you pause it entirely. 

Your hearts racing now, ears straining to hear anything else and hoping this wasn’t how the beginning of the explicit noises would start, but then another knock comes from behind you. It makes you gasp, like you’ve just been caught being the nosey neighbor you are, hearing the soft scrape of his hand sliding down the wall. The ice cream gets put onto your nightstand as you sit up properly, forcing yourself out of the mountain of pillows you were practically suffocating in and turning around to knock back.

Jungkook’s palm presses back onto the wall, smiling at your response before fishing his phone out of his pocket. His fingers find your thread of messages, further down the list than he was used to, and as he opens them up and sees the string of unanswered texts dating back to two weeks ago, it stings just like it did before. He pushes his pride aside though, knowing you had wanted to talk today in person, so he proceeds to quadruple text you. 

Jungkook 8:44pm : are you seriously watching the notebook again?

You’re unlocking your phone the second it buzzes, smiling at the dimly lit screen before typing out a response. 

Y/N 8:45pm : shut up, it’s my comfort movie

Y/N 8:45pm : do you wanna watch it with me? for old times sake

The device is locked and placed face down onto your sheets the second you hit send, sinking into the pillows once again as you try not to scream at yourself because you know he’ll hear you. Why would you invite him over when he clearly has company? You had seen her with your own eyes, had seen how cute she is, had seen how cute Jungkook is, it doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together. 

Jungkook is quick though, texting back in agreement and heading over instantly. If you were watching your comfort movie then Jungkook wanted to make sure you were okay. Putting the past two weeks behind him, knowing you’d most likely have a good enough explanation—an explanation he would definitely be needing before the night was over—he’s knocking on your door before you can even check your messages. 

It takes you a minute to untangle your limbs from your covers as you hastily try to get to your door, sock clad feet sliding along your wooden floors when you finally yank the door open. Jungkook wears a soft smile as he stares down at you, taking note that you had switched your outfit to your usual sad movie binge attire of baggy shirt and lounge shorts. His eyes zero in on your lips when he notices there's something lingering at the corner of them. 

“So, are you gonna share whatever the hell that is?” His finger points at it smugly, laughing when your tongue peeks out to wipe it away. 

“It was actually meant to be for you.” Stepping aside, you let him enter your place. Jungkook almost feels a little strange being here after the weird few weeks, but he pushes it aside, just wanting things to feel normal. 

“Does that mean there’s no more left?” His eyes playfully narrow at you as you step closer, moving on to stare at the kitchen table, and the coffee table in search of the tub of ice cream that supposedly had his name on it. The earlier nerves you felt slowly fade away when you realize he’s not visibly upset about what happened, but it only makes your guilt deepen that despite your ability to be a crummy friend, Jungkook would still try his best to come through for you. 

“There’s about half of it left, it’s probably a little soft now though.” You side step him to enter the kitchen, grabbing an extra spoon and handing it over as a peace treaty, smiling when he gratefully accepts it. “C’mon, I paused the movie.”

Jungkook is not a stranger to your bedroom, especially when sappy movies were playing, finding his spot easily on the right side where he typically handed you tissues whenever you cried. The tissues were missing this time, in place of them being the bag of snacks you had bought, his ice cream on the other nightstand. 

“What part are you on?” he asks, settling onto the bed after fluffing up the pillows, waving his hands so you could pass the tub of ice cream his way. 

“It just started raining on the boat.” Jungkook hums, scooping out some of the chocolate ice cream and into his mouth. He knew this scene very well, and when you press play, he mentally repeats all of the lines. Just as Noah declares he wrote her 365 letters, you awkwardly clear your throat, your own spoon slowly sneaking over to his side to steal some ice cream for yourself. 

“I’m sorry if I made things awkward with your date.” Your voice sounds timid, something he’s not used to hearing from you at all, so he chuckles, laughing harder when you swat at his arm. “I’m serious, I should have texted you before just showing up.”

“Really? When have you ever done that before?” The two of you never notified the other when they wanted to show up, Jungkook had even given you the code to his place once when he was at work and you were desperate for some fruity pebbles—you used that code to your advantage and Jungkook never hated it. But all things considered, it's fair why you think you would have to give him a heads up. 

“You didn’t make it awkward though.” It’s not the complete truth, you coming over is what had made Aillie decide to leave, but Jungkook had to take most of the credit for it. “I kinda made it awkward from the beginning.”

“Why, what happened?”

“I went out last night with Jimin“ —you immediately hum in understanding, knowing very well how convincing Jimin could be with alcohol— “and apparently I texted her to hang out today, had no recollection, so when she showed up I was definitely not ready.”

“Damn, this is how I know you’re a better person than I am. If that happened to me, the second I checked my peephole and saw someone I didn’t remember inviting over, I’m gonna pretend I’m not home.”

“Yeah well, she lives like an hour away so I’d feel like an ass if I did that. Don’t think I’ll be talking to her again any time soon though.” He sighs in thought, gently tapping his spoon on the surface of the softening ice cream. There was one thing weighing heavy on his mind, needing to know what important thing you had to talk to him about, wondering if you were actually going to friendship dump him earlier and he had just made it worse by coming over and hanging out like old times. 

He doesn’t want to come right out and ask it though, not wanting to set himself up for an awkward conversation in case that wasn’t what you wanted to talk about, so he settles for something safe enough that would allow him to get a glimpse. 

“So how are things with Hoseok?” Yeah, that’s a good start. 

“Huh?” Your spoon freezes in its spot, face clearly looking confused in the dim glow of the television, the movie long forgotten now that you were speaking. 

“Tinder guy? Yellow sunglasses guy that gave you mono?” 

It suddenly clicks again, having forgotten all about Jung Hoseok the second you had gotten home from the failed date and came to terms with your feelings. Your lie of having a cold must have been believable enough for Jungkook to genuinely think he had given you something like mono. 

“He didn’t give me mono!” Jungkook rolls his eyes with a playful smile, humming along like he totally believes you. “But I didn’t tell you?”

He frowns as he stares at you, not entirely sure how to take your tone. “Tell me what? That you’re engaged and the wedding is in June?”

“No way,” you laugh, swatting his spoon away with a clank as you grab some ice cream before shoving it in your mouth, fighting against the brain freeze to continue speaking. “Our date was a bust.”

“How? Was it that bad?” He desperately wanted to know, having convinced himself the date had gone spectacularly well and you were now an exclusive item. The small twinge of guilt is felt when he realizes he’s a little too happy that the date had been a failure, but he allows himself to have this small, tiny victory. 

“Mm, it was so good it was bad.” He looks utterly confused, and you don’t blame him, so you elaborate. “He was this perfect gentleman who just wanted to play games, like to the point where he had a notebook where he was tallying our points, and then he walked me to my car and kissed my cheek goodbye.”

“Oh the horror!” Jungkook gasps, setting his spoon down to clutch his heart in dramatics. “How dare he try to romance you with a game night.”

“Jungkook, shut up!” you laugh, finally feeling like everything was right again, sitting in bed with your closest friend as you teased each other. “Look, I’ll give him some credit. The date was nice, he was not the sleazy douchebag his profile made him out to be, and I’m sure he’ll find the perfect girl for him on Tinder. But he clearly wanted something serious and—“

“And you don’t want that right now. It’s fair.” Of course you would turn him down, you had just decided to embark on this new adventure in the single world. It was kind of dumb for Jungkook to assume one date with Tinder Boy would be enough for you to give up your short lived dream. 

You take a steady breath at his words before taking another scoop of ice cream, lips wrapped around the spoon as you slowly pull it out of your mouth. The nerves are trickling back in, making your heart skip and your eyes bounce around. If you don’t come out and say it now, you know you never will. 

Your spoon joins his in the tub of ice cream before you decide to move it back to the nightstand, forcing yourself to look back at him, seeing him turned away as he rummages through the plastic bag full of snacks. “I don’t want that with him.”

Jungkook freezes, the rustling of plastic ceases as his hands come back to his sides and he turns back around. With him. He was the king of jumping to worse case scenarios so his brain has no issues coming to this very horrible conclusion. 

“Have you been talking to Hajoon again?”

“No, Jungkook I haven’t.”

“Are you sure? I’m saying this now, but if you get back with him I will not hesitate to pop him in the face if I run into him in the halls. It’s fair game out there, neutral territory for him to get his ass beat—“

“It’s you.”

His brain short circuits at that, mini versions of himself currently running around and screaming in his head as he tries to make sense of this. The first instinct he has is to crack a joke, to say that he hadn’t been talking to Hajoon again, and laugh it off. But you look a little too vulnerable right now, eyes nervously looking at him and then looking away at his lingering silence. 

“Wait, what?” It’s the only thing he can sputter out, caught off guard by your words, not wanting to say anything else in case the world was cruel enough for him to have completely misheard you. 

“I don’t want that with Tinder Boy or Hajoon, I want it with you.” It gets a little easier saying it a second time, but his reaction is hard to gauge. You had been expecting him to reciprocate the confession instantly, but the longer he looked shocked only made you think that you and Seulgi had been seriously wrong about his supposed crush. 

Jungkook is having a difficult time trying to go from you ghosting him to you suddenly admitting to liking him, the change in emotions not allowing him to say anything he had practiced in the mirror for so long. He can’t come out and give you a speech about how he thinks you’re the one, how you’re obviously a good match together, brain too focused on other details. “How long have you known this?”

“For the past two weeks, but deep down I know it’s been longer.”

His wide eyes glance over at you now, everything slowly clicking into place. “Is this why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“Yes,” you mumble, embarrassed over the way you had acted. The last time you had avoided someone was in elementary school, having a best friend go ask your crush if he likes you while you hid in the bathroom, scared of the answer. “I like you Jungkook and I knew I wouldn’t be able to play it cool. I was scared to say something and have you not feel the same and then have our friendship be weird.”

Jungkook smiles in that adorable way you love, nose scrunching up cutely as he leans closer, large palms coming to cup your cheeks. He has wanted to hear this for so long, and sure, maybe it wasn’t some super romantic confession over a candlelit dinner like he had occasionally dreamed of, but this felt right. 

“You’re so stupid,” he whispers out, thumb softly caressing your cheek as he chuckles, feeling the way your lips turn into a frown at his harmless insult. 

“Jungkook, I’m being serious,” you whine, heart still pounding in your chest. Your hands come up to gently wrap around his wrists, allowing him to continue to squish your cheeks with that endearing look on his face. 

“I’m being serious too Y/N. Did you really think I wouldn’t feel the same?” Jungkook did everything he did with you out of pure friendliness, never expecting to get something in return from it, but there was a small sprinkling of a crush in every one of his actions. “I like you too, and I have for a really long time.”

The relief you feel comes instantly, lips slowly pulling into a smile when you finally have the confidence to look directly into his eyes again. If this is how light you feel after the two weeks spent freaking out, you can only imagine how Jungkook feels. “Really?”

“Yes, really. Now, can I please kiss you?” You’re nodding the second the question leaves his mouth, eyes fluttering shut as his hands glide down to cup your jaw, soft lips slowly pressing against yours. It’s a gentle smack of skin as he pulls back, a smirk on his lips when he opens his eyes, softly rubbing his nose against yours. 

“Wait,” he breathes out, chuckling softly. “Is he still looking?” He has the nerve to repeat the same question that had been the root of your guilt, and when your eyes shoot open and glare at him, he can’t stop the laughter that bubbles out. 

“I hate you,” you mutter out, not an ounce of truth behind it. 

“Mm, no you don’t.” 

His lips find yours again, falling into a steady rhythm, softer and less rushed than the first kiss you had shared at the club. There’s no pounding bass in the background, or the taste of liquor on your lips, but Jungkook prefers it this way. He likes the low hum of the movie continuing to play in the background, the sweetness of the ice cream lingering on your lips when his tongue gently swipes at the seam of them, the way your hands slowly slide around his neck as he deepens each kiss. 

With each shared breath, you slide further down your bed, pulling Jungkook down with you until he’s hovering directly above you. His knees dig into the sheets, one hand pressed beside your head to keep himself stable as you urge him even closer to you. The delicate golden chain he wears kisses your skin, pendant settling onto your chest, the cool sensation is almost enough to distract you as his tongue slowly slips into your mouth. Jungkook groans when you let out a small gasp, your fingers slipping into his hair and tugging gently at the strands by the nape of his neck. 

He wants to remember this kiss instead of the one from the club, embed every gasp you let out into his brain, the way your chest pushes up to feel more of him, how your hands slide down his back, leaving a fiery trail in their path that makes Jungkook shiver. And when you slide your thighs further apart for him, innocently at first, he can’t help it when his lips freeze on yours as you slowly roll your hips upwards. It gives him the same automatic reaction he had gotten at the club, all the blood rushing to his cock instantly, except this time he doesn’t feel the shame he had felt before. There was no ulterior motive to what you were doing, sincerity shown in your confession, shared within each kiss, so Jungkook allows himself to bask in the want he feels for you.

“Y/N,” he groans out when you repeat the action, pulling away from your swollen lips to stare at you through hooded eyes. You’re licking your lips over as your eyes slowly open, a small glimmer evident in them as you tilt your head and pretend to not know what you’re doing.

“What?” you question, leaning up to kiss the edge of his mouth, giggling when he attempts to chase your lips as you pull back, choosing to kiss down his jaw instead. As your tongue gently trails along the side of his neck, you feel the harsh gulp he takes, his fingers bunching up in the sheets beside your head. His neck has always been a weak point for him, turning him into a puddle in seconds, you knew this from the unfiltered conversations you’ve had and it was something you were definitely going to be using to your advantage. 

“You’re doing this on purpose,” he grunts, eyes fluttering shut as you nip at his skin, a visible shiver racking through him. 

“Of course I am,” you hum, letting your hands roam his back, sliding around his front until you’re sneaking past the white fabric of his shirt. When your cool hands meet his skin, he tenses, the muscles on his stomach tightening up as your fingertips trail up his body. You’ve known Jungkook was well defined, lean and toned in all the best places, having seen him shirtless a few times. But being able to touch him like this, feel each stuttered breath and jump of his skin reacting to your touch fueled you. 

Jungkook knows you can feel the racing of his heart now, your palms flat on his chest, each thrum revealing his emotions despite the cool and calm exterior he was trying to have. His hips lower towards yours, resisting the urge to rut into you as you start to suck on his skin. The low hum you let out vibrates against his neck, mixed in with the feeling of your wet lips, and he knows he’s done for. The final blow comes in the form of you swiping your tongue at the blossomed hickey, sweet voice pulling him back to earth as you look at him once more. “I want you Jungkook.”

Oh god, he couldn’t do this. His face pulls into a grimace, begging himself to not instantly cum in his pants at what you just said. How many times has he fantasized about this? Hoped you’d beg him for anything in that same exact voice, dreamed of you kissing and sucking on his skin like you currently were. Jungkook isn’t sure any amount of mental preparation would be enough for this. 

“Say that again please.”

You giggle, finger pushing back a strand of his hair as it falls over his face, tucking it behind his ear. The normal doe eyed look you were accustomed to is nowhere to be found, pupils blown out in lust as he stares at you. Being on the receiving end of this stare fills your stomach with butterflies, the flapping of their wings intensifying as he nudges his nose into yours. 

“I want you.” It’s breathless, spoken so softly through the background noise like a personal secret just for him. Jungkook doesn’t think he’ll ever grow tired of hearing you say it, that much is proven true when you repeat it in between kisses, trailing back up his neck in the same path you had taken until you're speaking the words directly against his lips. He swallows them down greedily, groaning into your mouth when his tongue tangles with yours once more. 

“Fuck, you can have me baby.” He chuckles against your mouth when you start to tug at his shirt, yanking the thin material until he has to pull back and slip the tee off himself. The balled fabric gets tossed aside without a care, dark swirls of ink on his arm fully revealed now, each tattoo reminding you of how long you’ve known him, remembering the two pieces that he had when you first met. When he leans back over you, taking his time trailing kisses down your neck, onto your chest until his own hands are slowly tugging your shirt off of you, you decide there’s other things to focus on besides his glorious tattoos.

“Ah, Jungkook,” you sigh, fingers tangling into his hair when he kisses the swells of your breast, warm tongue sliding over your nipple before his lips are wrapping around it. His large palm gropes the other, thumb flicking over the pebbled bud, smirking when you push your chest further out for him.

“What baby?” He pulls back to blow a gust of cool air on your nipple, the wetness of his saliva making your skin break out into goosebumps. 

“No teasing.”

Jungkook’s laughing now, eyes peering up at you through his lashes. “Oh, you think I’m not gonna tease you after what you did?” He tsks in disapproval as he continues to kiss down your torso, letting his hands trail down your sides, not stopping until he reaches the hem of your shorts. A kiss is placed above your navel as he pulls the shorts down your legs, toying with the waistband of your black underwear. “I’m gonna take my time with you.”

The build up before pleasure will always be your favorite part. The way his hands grip your thighs after tugging your underwear off, fingertips trailing up until his palm is pressing them further apart. It’s impossible to look at him now, the visual of his long hair framing his face as he starts to press wet kisses on your skin is too much to handle. You can feel the warm huff of air when he laughs as your head drops back onto the pillow once more, eyes slipping shut while you wait with anticipation. 

Jungkook wants to comment over how wet you are already, boost his own ego about being able to rile you up with just kissing, but he can see the way you’re already on edge, and he decides he can tease you some more later with what he has in store. Instead, he gives you what you’re mentally pleading him for. Finally pressing his soft lips to your folds, the short gasp you release as his tongue glides up before gently flicking across your clit has him shutting his own eyes, reveling in the way you react to his touch. 

His long fingers spread out your folds before he’s messily spitting onto them, watching the way the glob of saliva trickles down before he’s diving in, falling into the perfect pace with ease. It has your hips rutting up instantly, your hand uncurling its grip from your sheets to travel down your body and find its place tangled in his hair. Jungkook groans against your clit when your fingers grip tightly, yanking the dark strands as the prettiest moan flows out of you. 

“J-just like that, fuck,” you whimper, finally lifting your head up to stare down at him when he latches his lips around your clit and sucks. It sends a spark down your spine, stomach tensing at his rhythm, fully intent to have you fall apart. 

Jungkook wants to push you over the edge, knows he’s talented enough to get you there in record time—he was cocky in the best way—and the way your thighs tremble as he slowly sinks his finger into you proves his point. The slick coating your entrance allows a second finger to slip through with little resistance, a shuddering breath filling the air as he begins to spread his fingers apart, stretching you out in the most delicious way. 

It’s not until his fingers curl up, rubbing along the sweet patch inside of you and you moan out his name, that he realizes he has you right where he wants you. He can’t get himself to look up at you, to see the way your jaw drops as you plead for more. Jungkook knows if his eyes lock with yours too soon he’ll be too weak to be as cruel as he wants to be. 

The pleasure blooms inside you, hips rolling up into his in a way he welcomes, smirk spreading onto his lips when your moans get breathier. He eats you out with determination set in his brows, not satisfied until you’re tightening around his fingers, thighs threatening to close in on either side of his head. The messy way he slurps against you sends you reeling, rutting up into him with need, the wet thump of his fingers blending in with your moans of his name. 

“God, Jungkook, I’m gonna cum.” He believes you, eyes finally opening up to stare at you. The visual is enough to make his cock throb in his pants, your glassy eyed stare locked onto his, chest rising and falling in time with each choked breath. When he playfully winks at you, your walls pulse around him, seconds away from being pushed over the edge, and that’s when he pulls away. 

The warm glow of your orgasm approaching, just about to crest, gets ripped away from you instantly. It makes you gasp, thighs twitching as your hips attempt to push up back towards his mouth, but he’s having none of that. His shiny lips smile up at you innocently, head tilted to slowly kiss your trembling thighs, chuckling at the small cry of frustration you let out. 

“You taste good baby,” he hums, smooching the skin at the juncture of your thighs, circling around your clit without relieving the pressure you felt. The dull ache has your fingers releasing his hair in defeat, a frown etched onto your lips. 

“Jungkook, that’s mean,” you pant, sitting up and resting on your elbows to properly stare at him. 

“A little, but you deserved it don’t you think?” Jungkook didn’t want to tease you too much, he just wanted to get even for the past two weeks. “You could have had me between your thighs every single night if you would’ve said something soon, so I think you can be patient.”

A firm kiss is pressed to your swollen clit and it makes your whole body shudder, your head dropping back as you take a deep breath to control yourself. “I can’t be patient Kook,” you whine, head leveling back out to give him the most convincing stare you can muster. There's that crease between your brows that he likes when you pinch them together, hands gently raking through his hair, teeth pillowing out your lower lip as you bite down onto it. 

“Please, you can torture me later if you want but not now.” Your words have him cocking up his brow, hands once again gripping the meat of your thighs before he crawls back up your body. The feeling of his chain dragging up your skin has you shivering, breath catching in your throat when he hovers inches above you once more. 

“I’ll hold you to that,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth before his hand slips between your thighs again. A groan reaches his ears as his fingers circle your clit, covered in your arousal and his saliva, gliding with ease as he works you back to your ruined orgasm. 

His lips find yours, swallowing down the moan you let out when he quickens his pace. You can taste yourself on his tongue, tangling with yours with more urgency than before, messy and desperate in a way that had more arousal gushing out of you. The earlier pleasure reignites inside you, your hands sliding around his neck to keep him close, kissing him with fervor, quiet moans and whimpers slipping past between each smack of your lips. 

“Jungkook,” you barely manage to squeal, a few more flicks needed to finally push you over the edge. Your lips are slick with spit as you pull back, jaw slack as you lose yourself in the feeling, and Jungkook easily bookmarks this into his brain to go back to and daydream of whenever he’s bored at work. Your eyes are squeezed shut as the feeling flows through you, not able to see how Jungkook stares at you in awe. 

“Holy shit,” he whispers, slowly pulling his hand away when you keen at the sensitivity, thighs twitching on the sheets as the pleasure rolls through you in waves. You’re looking up just in time to see him slip his messy fingers into his mouth, tongue licking them clean and savoring the taste of you. Just as he slides them back out, your fingers wrap around his wrist and lead them directly into your mouth, sinking onto them with your eyes locked on his own. 

Jungkook’s cock jumps in its confines when you suck, tip of your tongue circling his fingertips before popping them back out with a smirk. There’s a brief moment of shock on his features before he’s jumping into action, quickly unbuttoning his jeans in haste that left you giggling on your sheets. 

“What happened to patience?” you tease, laughing harder when he pauses with one foot stuck in the hole of his jeans, a playful glare thrown your way. 

“Oh, now you want patience?” He kicks his pants the rest of the way off, slowly shuffling towards you as he stands beside the bed in just his boxers. Your hands make grabby motions for him, reaching for the waistband of his underwear to tug them down, licking your lips over as his cock springs out. It bobs in the air for a second, thick and heavy, precum collecting at the tip with the prettiest veins on the underside of it. Of course Jungkook and his pretty privilege would have a dick worthy of leaving you speechless. 

Jungkook allows you to ogle at him, confidently wrapping his palm around the base of his cock, hissing slightly at the sensation as he looks down at it, allowing spit to accumulate behind his lips before a string of it escapes and lands right onto his length to help the glide of his palm. Your eyes widen at the sight, hand replacing his as he guides your motions, giving an experimental squeeze and enjoying how his abs tense up. 

“I’ve been patient for a long time Y/N. You said you want me right?” You’re nodding instantly, eyes looking away from his shiny length to stare up at him. “How do you want me?”

“Jungkook, just get over here.” He doesn’t resist when you let go of his cock, hands gripping his arm to yank him back onto the bed in a clumsy heap. His legs are a tangled mess, nearly ramming his forehead with yours from the force, shared laughter filling the air as you situate yourself. Jungkook had pictured this a thousand times and this is exactly how he imagined it, full of soft kisses, hushed laughter and goofy smiles, playfulness mixed in with lust all coming together perfectly to make the two of you. 

As he settles between your thighs, your sodden folds inches from his length, you can see the look on his face as his eyes glance in between both of your nightstands. Already knowing the question that was about to spill out, you beat him to the punch. “You don’t need one, if you don’t want to. I’m on birth control, and haven’t been with anyone since…” you trail off, not needing to specify.

Jungkook tries not to look too excited, really, but it’s hard. Every one of his lewd fantasies had involved being able to feel you entirely, and if your thoughts from that night were anything to go by, you definitely want the same. It takes him a second to speak, having to swallow properly to prevent himself from choking on his saliva and embarrassing himself in front of you. “I’m clean, I promise.”

“I trust you,” you smile, biting down onto your bottom lip as he fists his cock, slowly leading it to your dripping center. His free hand rests on your inner thigh, softly palming the skin as the head of his cock nudges against your entrance, pushing past the tight ring of muscles and into your heat. With his gaze locked down to where you connect, he sees inch by inch sink into you, finally bottoming out with a shared gasp.

Jungkook leans over you properly now, hand sliding up to lace with yours as the other rests beside your head, just taking a moment to enjoy the feeling of your velvety walls wrapped tightly around his cock. You welcome the stretch, the curve of his length inside you, how he cages you in with his body, eyes full of want staring directly at you, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze because he knows he can’t properly form a sentence right now. 

“Fuck me, please.” With his hips pressed flush against yours, he’s slowly inching back, letting you get used to his size with each thrust. It doesn’t take long before he’s rearing back entirely, thrusting forward with a wet squelch, corner of his lips curling up into a smirk when you moan out his name. Your hand curls around his shoulder, fingers digging into his back to keep yourself steady from the force of his hips. 

Each time the head of his cock would nudge against your bundle of nerves, your nails would sink into his skin, leaving half moon indents that left him groaning in pleasure. Jungkook hadn’t outright told you, but it had become increasingly obvious that he has a slight kink for pain, practically mewling above you as you scratch his back, fucking you with more determination than before. 

“You feel so good,” he rasps, slotting his lips with yours in a messy kiss. The back of your headboard starts to rattle against the wall, bouncing back in time with his hips, and it brings you back to the filthy thoughts you had before. How often you’d hear the same sounds on the opposite side, mixing in with the sharpness of skin connecting together, and you want it. So badly.

“J-jungkook,” you breathe out, letting him pepper more kisses onto you, hips never slowing down. “Can you do something for me?” The tone you use, coated in sugar so sweet he couldn’t say no even if he wanted to.

“Anything.”

It’s hard to concentrate on anything else while his cock continues to fuck into you, turning your mind into mush each time he sunk all the way in. He can see the way you try to focus, eyes falling shut with the cutest pout on your kiss swollen lips, finally grabbing onto the reigns of your mind as you spit it out. “Wanna feel you—fuck—spank me, please.”

Only then do his hips slow down, cock throbbing inside of you, fighting the urge to cum before fulfilling your request. The only confirmation that he was agreeing, wholeheartedly, comes when he pulls out of you, moving too quickly for you to protest at the loss of contact. The room spins for a second as his hands grip onto your hips and flip you over with ease, palms gripping the globes of your ass and softly patting them with a chuckle.

“Of course baby,” he murmurs, hooking his arm underneath your stomach to haul you up onto your knees, allowing you to steady yourself before he’s sliding into you once again. The change in position has you keening, his cock sinking deeper than before, the wetness dripping out of you helping him maintain the earlier pace he had. Your hands fist the sheets beneath you, back arching in ecstasy as he hits your g-spot with precision, a tiny shriek of his name making him smile.

Jungkook keeps you on edge, strong hands gripping the skin of your hips tightly, mouth dropping open while he pants at the way you pulse around his cock, leaving it coated in your slick. His hand slides down to your ass, a gentle touch being your only warning before he’s pulling his hand back and delivering a swift slap to your skin. Your reaction is immediate, an unrestrained moan sounding like music to his ears. The sharp sting spreads directly to your core, your head bowing forward as you mentally beg him for more, your wish being granted seconds later when he repeats it on the other side.

If the wet sounds of his cock fucking you weren’t filthy enough, the added slap of his palm across your ass definitely topped it off. Jungkook had never seen you so needy, thighs coated in your arousal, gushing around him each time he spanked you until you were creaming his cock. The greedy way your walls suck him in, wanting him closer, deeper than ever, left him mesmerized. 

His hand soothes the dull throb on your skin, a trembling breath reaching his ears as he leans over your back, lips kissing up your spine up until reaching your shoulder. Hot pants of breath hit your skin, making you shiver as his lips trail along the edge of your ear. “Feel good?”

“Y-yes,” you mewl, voice trembling from the pleasure, rutting your hips in time with his. 

Jungkook’s way of love was a breath of fresh air for you, rough enough to exhilarate you, the force of his hips leaving you scrambling for purchase to prevent you from face planting onto the sheets, gripping onto your hair and tugging it back with enough force to make your body tingle. But it was intertwined with adoration, sweet praise whispered into your ear, lacing his fingers with yours to let you feel secure.

“You’re never getting rid of me baby,” he groans out. The low rasp in his voice makes you tremble, neck straining from his grip in your hair but the burn feels too good to pull away. His small confession has your heart skipping, eyes slipping shut to bask in the overwhelming feeling surrounding you.

“Good,” you manage to pant, “would never dream of it.” After four years of friendship, the beginning stages of getting to know each other, figuring out the right ways to flow with your different personalities, it's all out of the way now, so it’s incredibly easy for you to picture a steady future with him. The breakfast gossiping, shameless club outings, chaotic game nights with snacks thrown at each other, you want everything you already have with him and more. What you have, so rooted in sincerity, built off mutual respect for each other, blossoming into love so pure, you can’t imagine having this with anyone else.

“Y/N,” he gasps, the pulsing of your walls bringing him closer to his climax. “I’m close.”

You can only hum in agreement, burying your face into your pillow when he releases the grip he has in your hair, nipples rubbing against the sheets in time with his thrusts, the sensitivity sending sparks throughout you. Both his hands grip your hips again, dimpling the skin as he quickens his pace, the tantalizing roll of his hips intent to send you over before him. His eyes trail over the curve of your back, how you arch it further to feel more of him, sliding down to your ass, seeing the way it bounces back with each snap of his hips, how you weakly rut back onto him, pussy clamping around his length as your orgasm approached. 

Jungkook slides his hand around you, trailing across your tummy before slipping between your thighs to the spot you needed him most. Even with your face buried in the sheets, the moan you let out is loud enough for Jungkook to hear perfectly, body shuddering as he flicks across your clit in tight circles.  

“Kook, I’m cumming—fuck,” you shout out, white heat enveloping your body as you get sent over the edge. Your mind blanks for a minute, the intensity of your orgasm crashing over you so suddenly, making your limbs tense up while every nerve ending lights up. The only thing you can think of is him, chanting out your name while you pulse around him, sweet words coaxing you through your high, thumb rubbing along the skin of your hips as he never slows his pace. 

As he fucks you through it, groaning out at how tight your walls are around him, you have to turn your head to gasp in a breath, face feeling hot from it all. You can feel how sweaty your skin has become, the back of your neck feeling sticky as your turn to get a glimpse of him, body still shuddering from the aftershocks. 

Jungkook doesn’t have a care for his own volume now, moaning unabashedly as he pistons his hips into you with less grace than before. The soft mewls of overstimulation you let out just bring him closer to his release, thrusts getting sloppier as the pleasure takes over him. 

“Fuck, baby-” he grunts out, mouth dropping open as he moans even louder, finally falling apart. He pushes further into you, head falling forward as his hips press flushed against your ass, warm spurts of his cum filling you up in a way that fulfills your dirtiest fantasies. A few more shallow thrusts has the two of you gasping, hearts pounding in your chests, coming down slowly as he finally stills.

A serene silence falls over you, the movie long turned off in the background, only the low glow of the television letting you know it was still on. With great hesitation, Jungkook finally pulls out of you, gulping when he sees the thick globs of cum spill from your core, dripping down your thighs before landing on the sheets in a sinful mess. Your sheets are well and truly ruined, Jungkook would honestly suggest tossing them in the trash judging by the damp spot directly beneath you.

With a small groan, you’re flopping fully onto your stomach, thighs no longer able to keep yourself up, the exhaustion creeping up on you. Jungkook chuckles when he hears you, soothing your back with a gentle massage. “You’re not sleeping in here babe.”

“Why not,” you slur, cheek pressed against your pillow, eyes already shut. All you wanted to do was lay here, preferably with his arms wrapped around you, but Jungkook clearly has other plans. 

“Because it’s disgusting,” he laughs, giving you a few more seconds of rest before he’s moving around. The dip in the bed lets you know he’s gotten off, one eye peeking open to search for him, seeing him gathering his belongings from the floor.

“Where are you going?”

He shimmies back into his clothes with a grimace, gathering your own items before approaching you once more. “We are going next door and sleeping in my totally clean bed, c’mon.”

You only put up a fight for a second, secretly enjoying the way he helps you get dressed in your earlier clothes, heart swelling in your chest at how domestic it all feels. The mess in your room would have to be dealt with another day, the only important item being the ice cream that finds its way back into the freezer as you both head out of your apartment and swiftly enter his next door.

He’s just as delicate and careful in the shower, taking turns cleaning each other, large hands gripping your ass and giggling like a child when you wince at the small throb of pain you feel. Soft kisses are shared under the showerhead, warm water soothing your body as the room fogs up, sweet confessions scribbled on the glass in his messy writing, topped off with a heart. Jungkook stops you before you can wipe it away, shyly telling you that he’d like to see it reappear the next time he showers.

His bedroom was one you weren’t too familiar with, used to lounging in his living room the most, so as he settles into his bed after getting cozy in his pajamas, you wait for him to call you over before joining him. The coolness of his sheets has you sighing, snuggling into his side with a smile on your lips, one that Jungkook sees as he stares down at you before pressing a kiss to your forehead. Seeing you draped in his clothes, cuddled up beside him in a way you’ve never done before, makes him feel like a giddy teenager. 

“Can I be honest?” he wonders, arm wrapping around you to pull you even closer to him. When you hum in confirmation, he laughs sheepishly. “I thought you were going to friendship dump me today.”

“What, why?”

Your head bobs up as he shrugs his shoulders. “The way you were acting reminded me of the last time you told me you wanted to focus on your relationship. I was just scared I was going to lose you again.”

The tone he uses makes your heart ache, the same guilt you felt these past few days coming back when you put yourself in his shoes. You had no idea that the way you were acting would affect him this way, never once imagining that he thought you would cut off this friendship while you were just coming to terms with the fact that you harbored strong feelings for him. 

“Jungkook, I’m sorry,” you sigh, palm resting on his chest, feeling each beat of his heart, no longer racing like before, confident and steady in it’s pace because he knows you’re not going anywhere. “I’m stupid, and freaked out after what I did, and just needed to gather my thoughts before saying anything.”

He cranes his head away from you, a confused look on his face. “After what you did? What did you do?”

Fuck.

“Uhm,” you start with a strained laugh, refusing to look up at him out of embarrassment, but the truth has to come out so you power through it.  “So, the night of the date, I sort of got home earlier than I told you I did.”

His eyes narrow at you, refusing to give anything away before he knew where this was going. “Okay, go on.”

“And I sort of heard you through the walls.” You look up at him now, your guilty stare spelling it out for him. His eyes widen before he can conceal his surprise, cheeks warming up instantly because oh boy, he knew exactly where this was going. “And then, I sort of...joined.”

“You lied to me!” he shouts, shocked smile on his face as he recalls the way you had replied to his texts, telling him you had just gotten home and going the extra mile to say you were in a totally different room when in reality, you were sprawled out in your bed after just getting off to the sound of him.

Filthy. And also kind of hot. Jungkook was definitely into that, something he’ll totally proposition you into doing again because why not.  

“I know! I couldn’t help it, it was so hot, and I felt so guilty. But, you’re technically the reason why my orgasm gave me my epiphany and let me realize I really do like you. So, I think I did us both a favor by being a dirty liar.” He’s laughing instantly, fingers gripping your cheeks to turn your head up, planting a firm kiss onto your lips obnoxiously.

“Alright, you’re forgiven. Plus, consider us even because I have definitely heard you getting off on your own plenty of times too.” A squeal of surprise fills the air as you swat at his chest, burying your face into his shirt and feeling the rumble of his laughter. It really wasn’t ever intentional. The walls are thin, you weren’t exactly quiet, and he couldn’t just lay there and ignore it. So call him an opportunist, or a pervert, because you were one too. 

Jungkook is cheeky though, knowing how to get under your skin in the best way, and you can already tell you’re in for a ride when he gets close to your ear and whispers, “You wanna show me how you did it?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you snort, peering up at him with mischief in your eyes.

“You did say I could torture you later.” He smiles innocently, fingers pinching your chin as he kisses you again. “It’s later.”

The sweet laughter that escapes you makes his heart skip a beat, still not able to come to terms that this was happening and wasn’t some dream of his that he’d wake up from. He kisses the tops of your cheeks first, then your nose, before reaching your lips, his hand gently caressing your skin. Jungkook had no intention of torturing you tonight, knowing how tired you typically were after work on a normal day, and after drawing two orgasms out of you that left you shaking, he knows how close you are to sleep with the way your eyes droop. 

“Aren’t you glad you didn’t give up on crushes and love?” he mumbles against your lips, inching back to stare down at you. 

“I’m glad I stopped looking for it in the wrong places.” Your hands wrap around his neck, toying with his hair before pulling him back to you, reattaching your lips because you just couldn’t seem to get enough of him. 

Every single moment you shared, from moving in and awkwardly trying to get to know each other, the ups and downs of failed relationships, the push that started it all at the club, and every almost moment in between brought you full circle to right now. There probably won’t be a moment where you don’t wish you had done this sooner, worked past your worry of ruining a good friendship in fear of what could happen, but the past helped mold you into who you are, strengthening your relationship to be the way it is now.

Right now had you thinking of the future, and there was nothing more exciting than that.

#jungkook smut #heartsforbts #btswritingcafe #btsghostie #bangtansorciere #bangtaninn #btscreatorscorner #jeongguk smut #jeon jungkook #bts smut #jungkook fluff #new

[gxrlcinema]

A SHADOW IN YOUR CAVE (DRABBLE)

PAIRING: Bucky x Reader

SUMMARY: Bucky can’t fix what’s wrong, but he can illuminate things for you.

A/N: I'm having a hard time mentally at the moment and have been struggling for the energy to write and edit fics. I'm sorry if this isn't my usual quality (or if it is, I guess). Thank you guys for all your support.

WARNINGS: general depictions of depression, hurt/comfort I guess, perhaps OOC for Bucky, no proofreading we die like we kinda want to

WC: 1159

BUCKY MASTERLIST // FULL MASTERLIST

There’s a day you’ve been having for weeks now and it goes like this: Your chest feels both hollow and heavy at the same time, the cavernous weight dragging your eyelids, shoulders, and smile down. Beyond your window the leaves are changing, turning all different shades of gold just to mock you in your stagnation. Sometimes in the early afternoon, you walk downstairs just to haunt the kitchen for a few minutes, unable to decide how to nourish yourself and incapable of mustering up any desire to do so. You flick through social media in a desperate, dispassionate search for anything that will spark something in you. You find yourself under the covers in the dark at 3 PM, the memory of how you got there hazy.

Which is where you are now, your phone screen letting you know that you’re right on schedule at 3:15 (at least you can do something reliably). It’s unfair really; you’d done everything right today. You’d woken up on time, taken your meds, opened the blinds, eaten breakfast, washed your face, brushed your teeth, started your work on time, replied to a few texts to make sure you still have friends whenever you’re feeling better. (You haven’t done everything right, your mind chides. Showering, putting on clothes and going for a walk all stick out in your mind, a glaring red F at the top of your “functioning human” test. You glare back. Those things are simply not happening today.)

Your therapist would tell you to reach out - a friend, a family member, your loving boyfriend who has begged you to call him when you feel like this - but it doesn’t seem like you can. Like the prisoner chained to the wall, you can not really participate in reality. Your chest is a cavern, your loved ones are just shadows on the walls of your cave.

The tears crash over you like a wave, pulling you down into the familiar rhythmic current of your own sobbing. You are all too willing to drown. You don’t know when you fall asleep.

When you wake, there is light in your eyes. It takes you a moment to become aware of your surroundings, realizing that the bedroom door has opened and the brightness you’re experiencing comes from the hallway. You sit up and squint, just making out the silhouette of a broad figure against the light.

“Bucky?”

Your voice is quiet, cracked and waterlogged like a sinking ship.

“It’s me, honey.”

Your boyfriend’s voice is soft. Your cheeks still burn with the shame of being caught like this.

Bucky’s silhouette moves through the dark of your bedroom, coming to sit on the bed next to you. Now that he’s nearer you can make out the planes of his face, scrunched up in worry. Bucky takes you in as well, assessing you with the precision of a marksman.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, once he’s concluded it’s safe to do so.

“It’s stupid,” you mutter.

Bucky gives you a sad smile. “It’s always stupid,” he replies.

The tears from the afternoon prick at your eyes again. He means it in a kind way. You always say that what you’re crying over is stupid. It is stupid, you reason, to cry for nothing. As though the cave in your chest just possesses you randomly (as though you’d have to admit it’s not your fault, the Sam Wilson in your head chides).

You choke out a sob again, the crack sending tremors to your shoulders and a wobble to your chin. Bucky wraps his arms around you, cradling the back of your head against his chest. He shushes you quietly.

“It’s okay,” he whispers into the top of your head. The kindness only further chokes you, makes you feel like you’re drowning in undeserved warmth. Your chest heaves.

“It’s not okay,” you spit, venom coating your tongue. “You just got home after weeks of me not seeing you and I’m-” you don’t have enough words for what exactly you are, “this.”

You can feel Bucky’s responding frown against your head.

“Hey, look at me,” he says.

You shake your head. Bucky shifts his arms around so that his left arm can still hold you, while bringing his right hand up under your chin. He tips your chin up.

“I love this,” he smiles, widening the cave in your chest when you can’t muster a smile back. “If you want to talk about it, I’ve got ears. And if you just want to sit in it with someone, I’ve got time.”

It’s the same thing you told him, the first time he had a panic attack around you. It’s the same thing he repeats to you, every time you get like this. Bucky presses a quick soft kiss to your lips, before settling back against the headboard on your bed, getting comfortable. He pulls you back against his chest, stroking a hand through your hair.

The thing about Bucky is that everytime he gives you that line, he means it. He will wait in the dark for you to be ready to face the light again. You kind of hate him for it. Bucky Barnes is a battering ram to your defenses, breaking down the doors between you and hope. Sometimes, you can’t help your urge to convince him otherwise.“Maybe I’m just a broken person, Buck,” you tell your dark bedroom. “Maybe I’m just made of jagged edges, and anyone that tries to hold me will only cut their hands.”

You’re expecting a scowl when you turn your head to look at him, but instead you’re met with a megawatt grin.

“I’ve got a whole vibranium arm, baby. You can’t cut me.”

On your better days, it would make you laugh out loud, your super assassin being so cheesy and saccharine. Your chest is still pulling you down, too heavy to give you even a smile, but your lips twitch upwards. Bucky’s smile gets even brighter.

“Dinner in bed?” he asks, giving you a peck on the lips.

You groan, the thought of Bucky leaving your side already too much to bear, but nod anyway. “Dinner in bed.”

Bucky gently removes his arms from you, standing from the bed. He strides over to the door, making sure to open the door all the way, letting more light into your space.

“Holler if you need anything,” he smiles over his shoulder.

Your chest is still very much hollow and heavy. Fall and winter are harder for you, and they have been for years. You are still chained to the wall of your cave.

But Bucky reminds you that you are loved. That, even when you can’t call for them, they will be there for you. As long as Bucky’s around, you’re not alone.

For a second, your face cracks into a full blown smile. You don’t know how you got so lucky as to have his shadow in your cave.

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes oneshot

[liaromancewriter]

Time of Our Lives

Premise: Cassie and Ethan bring their newborn twin girls home from the hospital and navigate the first few days of parenthood.

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine) Rating/Category: General. Fluff. Format: Text and pic fic + prose Trope: Family Dynamics Words: 590

A/N: This Tumblrversary fics continue. This was requested by an Anon for when Ethan and Cassie bring their newborn twins home. I took a slightly different perspective. Hope you like it anyway.

Late submission for @choicesdecemberchallenge2021​, Day 10 prompt “Blessings.

Part 1: First Look

Part 2: Ready, Set, Go

Part 3: Heart to Heart

Ethan Ramsey was a good diagnostician although he’d argue that his wife was a better one. He could even admit that he was a surprisingly effective leader even if he still terrified interns. 

But becoming a father was one job he hadn’t ever expected to hold, so he wasn’t sure exactly what was required of him to excel at that. Because nothing less than excellence would do.

He had had an entire week to get used to fatherhood, but he didn’t think it would fully sink in until they brought the girls home from the hospital where they were spending time in NICU.

Cassie’s pregnancy hadn’t been easy; her pre-eclampsia the last couple of weeks had reminded him all too clearly of Dolores Hudson. While another week would have been ideal, the C-section at 36 weeks had become necessary.

Still, despite all that, they had finally become parents and the shock was slowly starting to wear off.

“Are you awake?”

He turned his head to see Cassie propped up on one elbow as she leaned over him. The moonlight shining through the window behind her cast her face into shadows, but he suspected it was anxiety keeping her awake.

“I’m up,” he said, tugging her down to lay her head on his shoulder.

“It will be okay,” he said soothingly, smiling when she scoffed and lightly pinched his side.

“Of course, it will be okay,” she grumbled. “Between our parents, Max and Sienna, and our friends, we’ve got a big enough tribe for the girls.”

“So, what has you worried, Rookie?” he asked.

“I’m not worried, just excited,” she said. “Morning can’t get here fast enough.”

The sound of the ticking clock on the wall was loud in the darkness with each of them lost in their own thoughts. Hers were full of wonder, while his were a spiral of worries, each darker than the other.

What made him think that he could be a good parent? While his dad had done a great job of raising him single handed, there was no denying he had inherited his other parent’s restlessness. The mother that had abandoned him and his father because a family no longer fit in with her vision of the life she wanted.

“It’s going to be okay, Ethan,” she said. “Rookie parents, remember?”

Her palm cupped his chin, angling his head down to meet her earnest gaze. From the first moment they met, Cassie Valentine had been able to read him like no one else. At first, he’d fought against it, but the last few years had shown him it was so much easier to just lean into it.

“We’re in this together,” he confirmed, watching her lips curve into a smile before he closed his mouth over hers.

“We’re going to have the time of our lives, babe,” she said, voice full of glee. “Our kids are part Valentine and part Ramsey. There’s no way they won’t be a handful.”

He smiled in the darkness, feeling the worries dissipate against his wife’s excitement. He knew without a doubt that those stubborn Valentine genes wouldn’t let him be anything but a great parent.

“If they’re anything like their mother, I can well believe it,” he teased.

“Hey!” protested Cassie loudly.

He chuckled at the disgruntled expression on her face, his entire body shaking with laughter when she swatted him with a pillow. He grabbed the pillow, throwing it aside as he tugged her back into his embrace and proceeded to kiss her grumblings away.

Part 4: Welcome Home

Part 5: The Tribe

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics​

Tagging in reblog

#choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #ethan ramsey x mc #choicesdecember2021 #choicesmonthlychallenge #open heart choices

[fictional-scenarios]

hello! can i request an angsty fic with aizawa and f! reader where they break up? thank you!

i hope you enjoy this! i did it from his perspective, hope thats okay! also i know he probably wouldn’t actually be like this in a relationship, but for the fic, this is the only way i could see him being at fault :3

always appreciate reblogs and comments! if you’d lie to support me, here’s my ko-fi!

In the worst of the aftermath, Aizawa was not angry. He was never angry, not truly. Not even when he’d snap at his friends for bringing up her name, or when he’d feel rage churning in his stomach at the thought of her being with another. He was never angry. 

He was sad. So devastatingly, core achingly sad, that it kept him bed ridden for days at a time. Work, come home, eat and sleep. It wouldn't end. 

He’d always considered his quant home a safe haven, but lately it’d been feeling like a prison. It felt like a haunting museum, little bits of her as far as the eye could see. The memories were so vivid, he could still almost see the figure of her standing in his doorway. He could see her leaning on the window sill peering outside. He could see her shoes by the front door, her toothbrush in a cup upon his sink. He could see her under the covers with him, hushed laughter and soft snoring into the early morning.

Even now, he see’s her beside him in bed. He see’s the indent of where she should be, now terribly empty. It makes him feel cold, alone. 

But, being alone had never been a huge issue to him before all this. In fact, he knows it was the downfall of him. 

She’d just wanted him to go out with her now and then. She just wanted to take photos with him, hold his hand out in public without feeling like she’d been forcing him. 

Aizawa buries his face in his hands, his back leaning against the cold wall, blanket curled around his waist like a weight. 

All she had wanted was just a little more life. Just a few more kisses, a few more hugs. A few more signs that he truly cared for her, but he wouldn’t hear of it. She knew he loved her, why couldn’t that be enough? 

He refused public dates that weren’t anniversaries or events. He hated photos. He hated when she’d clasp fingers around his own, hated it because all it brought was attention. Paparazzi's scavenging and ruining every affectionate and tender moment they’d shared together in public. 

He never understood why it had to be public. He couldn’t wrap his mind around why she would insist they get out and so something together. Why couldn't hanging out in the seclusion of his home be enough?

Always so stubborn, especially when it would have been the correct time to give in. His annoyance and unwillingness to be anything other than slow moving and low maintenance drove her away from him. He was just fine being on his own, so why couldn't she?

‘I feel like you’re embarrassed of me,’ She’d cried, having hit her breaking point. ‘I feel like you don’t even really care about me.”

Aizawa’s jaw tightens. Of course I care about you. Why else would I want you here?

He should have said that. But, he didn’t. Just silently witnessed the destruction unsure of what to do next. Unsure of whether to argue, or remain dormant and quiet. Not quite apathetic, but he was never one for a shouting match. 

Unfortunately, he chose to remain still in the face of a crumbling heart. 

‘Even now, you won’t say a word. You don’t ever talk to me, Shota. You never ask how my day was, or if I want to go do anything. Why do I feel like I’m just here so you’re not lonely?’ She’d had fat tears welling in the pits of her eyes. She looked drained, broken. ‘I need more,’ Voice cracking, a terrible realization she’d stumbled upon. ‘I need more than that.’ 

It was a tense moment of silence. She shook her head and choked back a harsh sob.

‘Then that’s it.’ Lip trembling, feeling unwanted. ‘I can’t do this with you anymore. I’m leaving.’

At the lucid memory, Aizawa wish's he could go back and punch himself in the head. Say something, you idiot, he’d scream. Tell her to stay.

She’d passed him by, and the door slammed shut before he even turned to watch her go. 

It’s been weeks now, and he can’t seem to get his head right. It’d taken days before she came to collect her things, something he hoped would never come to be. A stupid part of him believed that she’d come around for some reason. It’d happened before- her storming out, him never changing, her missing him enough to just... Get over it. This time, however, was much different. 

Sinking in the memories, Aizawa feels his throat tighten at everything she’d said, and even worse, everything he didn’t say. His phone lights up beside him. 

yamada: are you still moping in there???? come out w us tonight! you need to get outta bed at some point

yamada: its been weeeeeeks!!!!!!! come on!!!!!!!

Aizawa knows he does. He knows his friend has been trying to get him to leave since it happened, but it’s hard.  He answered his friend, deciding that tonight he would in fact go out for a few hours just to clear his mind- anything is starting to become better than seeing a home empty of her. He sends the message, and his heart grows heavy.

He said yes to his friends when he was feeling sorry for himself, but never for her. He knew he deserved it, but it hurt not having her anymore. Especially when all he had to do was say yes sometimes. 

What stung the most was that he didn’t get to see her when she came to collect all her items, cram them into a box and leave for the last time. He’d hoped at that point, if it ever came to that, he could convince her to stay. But.. She hadn’t told him she was coming. Perhaps because she knew she was bound to give in. 

He came from from U.A., hoping that she’d be there, sleeping soundly or sitting terse on the couch ready for an argument ending conversation. 

But, she wasn’t there. In fact, nothing of her was. All her things vacated. Everything but the memory of her stripped away. 

Aizawa had stood stunned in the doorway. Then, it all came crashing down. She was serious this time. It was set in stone.

She’d really left him.

He didn’t think she’d actually leave him. Arguments were always so easy for Aizawa. He was a firm believer in ‘take me as a I am, or don’t take me at all.’ But, he’d never realized just how much changing she’d done for him. 

When he’d first met her at a group outing, she was full of life. She was bouncy and energetic. She had a sea of friends, a world of opportunities. But with him, with Aizawa’s stubbornness combined with her need and want to spend time with him, she went out less and less. Contacts in her phone dwindled from a vast ocean to merely puddles. 

Seldom she went out, and on the rare occasions she was able to get Aizawa to go, she’d dress in her best just for him to chastise her. ‘We’re not going anywhere that fancy,’ he’d remark, not noticing how her eyes fell. ‘Aren’t you a little over dressed?’

Guilt tore up his heart, now. She was always so beautiful dressed up like that, how could he ever say those things? Too late did he notice how she’d changed everything for him. Lost friends, missed outings, just so she could remain by his side. He did everything wrong and wasn't even willing to see it. He felt like a neglectful, stubborn, ass. 

Forcing himself up from bed, it takes all his strength to get up and wander into the bathroom. He’d need to start getting ready then if he was to go later. He was a slow moving creature, after all. Lazily, mentally drained and exhausted, he opens the mirror and pulls his toothbrush from the little shelves inside. The mirror swings shut and he’s met with his dreadful reflection. 

His eyes are even darker, redder, than they ever were with his quirk. Even he could tell he looked worse for wear. Drained, emotionally vacant yet so powerfully overrun with them at the same time. He looked dead. He brings the toothbrush to his teeth, but can’t bring himself to find the motivation to actually begin cleaning up. 

So tired. 

He just wants to sleep again. 

He wants to text her. But he doesn’t.

Tossing the toothbrush into the sink, resting his elbows on the edges and allowing his head to hang in sorrow, he wonders what she’s doing right now. It’s a warm Friday evening, the blue sky wide and clear. He’s sure she’s going out tonight, finally allowing herself the freedom to make up for all the time she’d missed with her friends. Friday’s were always Aizawa’s least favorite day. He just knew she’d want to go out, and he’d always combat it with a movie she’d been wanting to see, coming up with some random excuse as to why it wouldn’t be an ideal idea to go out. 

Then, he’d ignore how she sadly watched her friends social media stories about the night, and ignored their texts asking why she’s never around anymore.

God, what he would give for one more Friday night with her. He’d dress up, he’d take her somewhere so nice even he would be afraid he couldn’t afford the food. Her and all her friends. Whoever she wants, the whole world if need be. He’d do anything she wanted, strut her to a party on a red-carpet. Anything just for another Friday night. 

Aizawa’s eyes cast back up to his reflection. A lump forms in his throat, he watches his eyes glisten with tears. He wants to fall into the floor and forget about everything. 

Pushing himself away from the sink, he shake his head and gags on how tight his threat feels. Without even a moments hesitation, he finds himself right back in his room, pulls the covers aside, and drowns in them all over again. It’s dark, it’s cold. His own rooms uninviting without her. 

Yet, he can’t seem to bring himself to leave it.

His phone sits on his pillow. Aizawa opens his friends message. 

‘im going to stay in tonight. thank you for inviting me. im tired’

Aizawa doesn’t even want to see the messages his friend instantly starts blowing his phone up with. Instead, seconds after the text sends, he holds the power button until the entire screen goes black. He rolls over to face the wall, and he feels like he’s made of led. He swallows hard and gives into sleep all over again. His arm slings around a pillow, and he clutches it to his chest. 

A forever inanimate reminder of where she once laid. 

#aizawa shouta #angst #bnha #mha #imagine #x reader

[lilevixen]

heyyy, idk if u write bertholdt or are even taking requests, but if u are can i request giving bertholdt an orgasm denial from a f!reader and it’s been like 3 hours that he’s had to hold it? thanks if u can :)

sweet boy

Characters: sub!Bertholdt Hoover x dom!female bodied reader

Genre: smut

Word Count: 1.9k

Description: Reader teaches Bertholdt a lesson after he gets a bit too touchy with them in front of their friends

•WARNING- 18+ CONTENT: orgasm denial, no-contact orgasm, descriptions of oral sex (male receiving), dacryphilia(ish?)•

“Baby, please, I said I was s-sorry!” Bertholdt whined from across the room for what felt like the millionth time that evening. You casted a look of faux boredom over your shoulder from your small wooden desk, trying your best to remain blasé at the mouth-watering sight of your boyfriend still sat criss-cross applesauce completely bare on the bed. He was so good for you, so obedient; his arms never once left from behind his back for entirety of the time you had him there. How long did you have him there? After you two got back from the dining hall, minutes easily spilled into hours in the smudgy haze of repressed lust you had established. The only indicator of how long Berthodlt had been sitting there for, cock upright and twitching for attention, was how absolutely worn out he looked. Every inch of his deep, tan skin was glittering with sweat, cords of muscle in his thighs and abdomen strained beneath his flesh so severely they looked like they could snap any second, his chest heaved erratically as if he had just run a marathon- this was absolute torture for him, you could tell. You would’ve felt bad, if he hadn’t disobeyed you in the first place.

“Huh? I was reading, sweetie. I didn’t hear you,” a bald-faced lie on your part. Your eyes kept tracking over the same paragraph over and over again without absorbing any of the information in your brain, the sweet pleas of your boyfriend claiming all the space in your mind instead. His lip quivered at your persistence in feigning ignorance of his situation and tears quickly filled his dark eyes.

“P-Please! Can you please t-touch me? I need you so bad I think I might e-explode,” he stammered out, his voice meek but desperate, shameless, so needy and you felt it throb between your legs, adding to the arousal already collecting along your inner thighs. Despite how incredibly turned on you were, you let out a slow sigh hiss past your lips as if you were getting irritated.

“Well, you got to touch me plenty, sweets. In front of everyone, just like I asked you not to,” excitement overtook your annoyance some time ago, but what you brought up was a genuine point of contention. From the very beginning you made it clear you wanted your relationship to be private. It wasn’t that you were ashamed of him or anything, you just hated all the unnecessary attention couples garnered, all the mindless gossip and speculation of who plays what role, the whispers, the stares. And once Bertholdt had gotten comfortable with you, always seeking your touch like a love sick little puppy, you knew this was something that needed to be discussed. He agreed at the time, ‘if it means I get to be with you, I guess it’s okay,’ he said, but as things progressed he would give away your relationship in little ways. At first it was just the way he would look at you (which was only natural given your feeling for each other, you supposed), staring at your lips for a little too long when you spoke, a little twinkle of fondness in his warm eyes. You let this slide, because it was minimal and no one seemed to notice. But slowly, he started doing more and more things that you had to call him out on, resting his head on your shoulder, using his thumb to tenderly swipe crumbs of food off your face, nearly calling you baby- until finally, tonight in the dining hall while having supper with your friends, he practically announced you two were together by kissing your hand when you burnt it on a scalding bowl of soup. Porco was too involved with his food to notice, but you could feel Reiner and Annie’s eyes hovering over you as if you were an alien. Too embarrassed to handle their reactions, you excused yourself to your room and quickly left before they even had a chance to say anything, Bertholdt obviously right on your heels. He tried to embrace you and kiss you and apologize to make it all better, but his penchant for physical affection was what got you in this situation in the first place. So that’s when you decided to give him a little time-out. Even though, your edge was starting to wear down after hearing him whine out for you for so long.

“I know! I-I just don’t like seeing you get hurt! I didn’t think they were looking at us, I’m sorry Y/N!” he choked out, squirming against the air as if that would provide some sort of relief. “I’m s-so hard for you it feels like ‘m gonna pass out.”

“Oh really? And what do you want me to do about that?” You asked in a snarky tone to mask the unadulterated lust pulsing through you, going back to fake-reading your text book.

“I want you to touch me! I want to feel you, any part of you, until I cum over and over…” you could hear the thought in his voice as he got lost in what he was describing, and you didn’t need to turn around to know he was biting his lip with his head tilted back, eyes squeezed shut and brows knitted. Another hot rush of arousal swirled in deep in your stomach.

“You know I can’t do that, baby,” you said against your own body’s command.

“Y-Yes you can! I promise I’ll be good from now on, I w-won’t hold your hand or kiss you or hug you in front of anyone again! Just please, I need you Y/N,” maybe it was your own excitement, or how fucking good he sounded begging for you like a pitiful little boy, but this finally broke your resolve. It would be cruel to let him stay there like that all night, anyway. You pushed yourself out of your seat and made your way to Berthdolt’s trembling form on the bed. Even you just getting closer to him caused his heavy breathing to pick up pace.

“How do you want me, my sweet boy?” you purred, laying down flat on your stomach before his lanky body so that his dick towered above you like a skyscraper.

“A-Any way,” he looked down at you beneath his dark, fluttering lashes, swiveling his hips in anticipation of your touch. You let out a soft scoff.

“Be specific or I can’t help you~,” you said with a sweet lilt in your voice, harsh words laced with honey. His eyes blew open wide at your threat to leave him a writhing, unfulfilled mess for even longer than you already had.

“Can you take me in your mouth? Please?” A new wave of blush spread across his cheeks as he said this, and you couldn’t help but smile at how cute he was.

“There you go, baby,” you giggled. You guided your featherlight fingertips along the slick muscle of his thighs, causing him to tense up immediately, and you could actually see the thrum of his heartbeat racing beneath his skin in faint flits. He was so sensitive by now you didn’t doubt he would explode just like he said before. Your fingers playfully walked along the slope of his legs, working their way inwards, and you teased them to a gradual stop mere inches from where he needed you most. He was panting like a dog at this point, chest rising and falling violently as he looked down at you, jaw slack and eyes cloudy with frustrated tears.

“You’ve been waiting for this, huh?” You dragged your tongue along your lower lip and leaned in close to his pulsating cock so that your breath fanned across his shaft, digging your fingers into the tendons of his inner thigh. He gasped, the shock of you finally gracing him with some sort of stimulation overwhelming his worked-up body, and a throb of pleasure shot through his dick with such alarming intensity that you could see it expand in his veins and swell at the tip. You blinked up at him, a bit startled yourself. He was so close already and you barely even touched him… Maybe you didn’t even need to touch him.

“U-Uhuh!” He nodded frantically, tears now spilling down his flushed face and drool dribbling down his chin; the sight would’ve been sad if it wasn’t so fucking hot. You massaged your fingertips into the thin, sweat-slicked skin on either side of his balls and slowly moved your lips upwards so that they were ghosting the hot, leaking head of his penis. His whole body shuddered underneath you, hips eagerly twitching to meet your lips, but only mildly, timidly, making it clear he was still completely under your control.

“I bet you’ve been imagining this for so long, my lips around your cock, feeling me squeeze you in my throat,” you hummed, your lips just barely brushing his dickhead as you spoke, and to him the vibration of your voice and the warm flutters of your breath against him felt just as sensational as the euphoric grip of your walls after hours of waiting for any kind of attention. This was exactly what you suspected, what you were hoping. He was such a desperate mess that he could get off to just your words and proximity. “Can you feel it? My pretty little mouth drooling around you?”

“A-Ah! Yes!” He cried out, and his stiff cock slapped against his belly eagerly as if he was truly feeling every bit of what you were describing, hell, even you were starting to feel it from his reactions alone, the ache between your legs growing almost painful.

“Does my sweet boy want to cum down my throat?” You kept steady eye contact with him, savoring every bit of watching him crumble before you, intentionally letting your breath pour past your lips in heavy pants, and he bucked into the air with each puff, his abdomen flexed tight and his thighs shuddering.

“Ahaha y-yes please!” He whimpered, the rhythm of his hips gently rising to meet your breath becoming twitchy and unstable, a clear sign that he was on the brink of long-awaited release. A coy smile played at the ends of your lips as you batted your lashed up at him.

“Then cum for me,” and on command, his whole body convulsed under the weight of sweet, sweet climax, at long last, the hugest load you’d ever seen erupting out of him in thick, hot torrents that sprayed right in his face. You were so proud of him, your poor baby, putting up with your little act for hours on end despite yearning for you so immensely that you didn’t even need to touch his cock for him to bust. He just loved you that much and why exactly? You quite honestly didn’t know. You almost felt the need to apologize for treating him so cruelly, but at the end of the day you were trying to teach him a lesson, and based on how he was looking at you, right eye squeezed shut to prevent cum from getting in his eye, body rattling with exhaustion, it was safe to say he wouldn’t make the same mistake again. The least you could do was help him clean up. You got up on your knees and took his clammy face in your hands, gliding your tongue along his salty skin to get rid of all the cum, saliva, tears- whatever fluids were coating his face. When you were done, you pressed a kiss to his lips.

“I love you, my sweet boy.”

||

A/N:

HEYYY LOVELIESSS💓💓 here’s my first official completed request (woohoo)!!! Bertholdt is not usually a character I would accept writing but this request kinda had me GRRRR ya know (thank you for that anon, I truly hope you’ll enjoy this! This was my first time writing orgasm denial too so idk if i did it right NAKWKA)? BUTTT yeah here ya go, bloop ilyyyy

~Bunny

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