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frostedfaves · 3 years

Text

Dark Paradise

Masterlist

Pairing: dark!WandaNat x fem!reader

Summary: You meet the infamous Avengers on spring break with your best friend Peter, and two of them seem to adore you more than expected. Requested here by my lovely 🐞anon.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY!!! dark themes, manipulation, mind control, blackmailing, age gap (reader is 21), dubcon (saying this just to be safe because Wanda uses her powers for evil a lot here), smut: oral, fingering, penetration/sex toy use, voyeurism (kinda), edging, overstimulation (if I forgot something please let me know!)

A/N: hi this is 6k words, which is the longest single fic I’ve ever written/posted here haha. also the end is not technically the end, if you know what I mean. anyway this took forever to write so enjoy this super far from canon fic and please tell me what you thought!! (also if you’re on my taglist and you weren’t tagged it’s because your age wasn’t in your bio)

“Here, let me take that for you,” Peter offers when he notices you headed toward the car, and you hand your suitcase to him with a smile.

“Thanks, P.”

You close the car door behind you after getting in on the passenger side, instantly reaching for his phone resting on the dashboard once you were buckled in. The two of you had an unspoken rule that you controlled the music whenever you traveled together, so his library was filled with various playlists you’d created simply because you didn’t trust him not to listen to the same five songs for the rest of his life.

“This is different,” Peter comments as he gets in on the driver’s side and catches the opening notes to an upbeat song. “I thought you were going to go with something calmer to help you sleep, like you usually do.”

“Well, I’m not usually going to meet the Avengers, so I’m too nervous to sleep.” You turn to pout at him as he drives off. “Is it too late to cancel?”

“Don’t even think about it. If I show up without you, everyone will think you’re imaginary.”

“Do they think you can’t make any friends outside of Ned?” you question as you open a bottle of water. “Because they’re not wrong.”

“I can make friends!” Peter whines and a quiet snorting sound escapes you.

“You can’t use me as an example.”

“Why not?”

“Because we’re not actually friends.”

He picks up on your teasing nature and rolls his eyes, causing you to laugh as you lean back and settle into your seat more. You had well over three hours to stress about spending a week with the world’s most popular superheroes, and you’d rather be comfortable while you do so.

“Wake up, we’re here!”

Your eyes fly open at the sound of Peter’s voice, and any of the nerves that left long enough to let you sleep made a U-turn and hit you again, full force. Sitting up straight in the seat, you practice breathing properly while stretching and taking a look around as he pulls into the garage.

“Are you okay?” Peter asks once he parks, placing a hand over yours as he meets your gaze and you smile.

“I’ll be fine, P. I’m not gonna miss out on hanging out with you just because your super family is super intimidating.”

“Good. Besides, it won’t even be that bad! I’m willing to bet $1 million that they’ll love you.”

“I appreciate your optimism,” you tell him as the two of you get out of the car. “But you’re going to regret that bet when I use your money to retire early in some faraway rural town.”

Peter carried both suitcases as you made your way to an elevator, and you jumped when you suddenly heard a male voice.

“Welcome, Mr. Parker and Ms. L/N.”

“What is that?” you questioned as you faced Peter with wide eyes and he chuckled.

“You’re hearing Jarvis, Mr. Stark’s AI. Hey Jarvis, can you take us to the common room, please?”

“Right away, Mr. Parker.”

“This is so cool,” you comment as you look around the suddenly moving elevator. “How does it know my name?”

“Knowing everything is kind of its job, I guess.”

“Underoos!” a voice calls as soon as the doors open, quickly revealing itself to belong to Tony Stark as his gaze lands on you next. “So she is real.”

“I told you!” Peter defends as you step off the elevator together. “Mr. Stark, this is Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, kid,” Tony greets you with a shake of your hand. “I’m glad he found you. I was starting to worry that he’d build a robot to spend the rest of his life with.”

“I’m just his best friend, so it’s still possible.”

“Is this your friend, Peter?” Steve cuts off Peter’s response as he enters the room, moving to shake your hand next. “I’m Steve. Nice to meet you.”

“Okay, I’m going to show her to our rooms and then we’ll be back for dinner,” Peter tells everyone once you’d been introduced to Pepper, Bruce and Clint as well, and you’re about to head for the elevator again when someone interrupts.

“How about we take her down to her room instead?”

Your eyes widen as you watch none other than Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff enter the room hand in hand. Natasha’s hair seemed much longer than the last time she’d been in the public eye, but her all-knowing smirk was just the same and her green eyes were even more piercing in person. You noticed a bit of red glowing in Wanda’s eyes, which faded as she probably realized you’d seen, and you couldn’t help but wonder if that meant she hated you already.

“I know what you’re up to, Red.” Tony seemed accusatory as he pointed a finger at the pair. “You can’t bribe her into helping you cheat tonight.”

“Maybe I planned on giving her tips for surviving this testosterone filled tower.”

Natasha steps forward and grabs your hand with her free one, and with a flick of her wrist, Wanda has your suitcase floating in front of you as they lead you into the elevator.

“Sorry to whisk you away like that,” Wanda apologizes as the doors close with her head tilted to see you past Natasha. “We’re just excited to meet a new woman here.”

“No, it’s okay!” you insist breathlessly, your nerves slowly returning as Natasha lightly squeezes your hand. “I’m actually really excited to meet the two of you.”

“You know who we are?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that I know you personally, but I know that you’re one of the original team members.” You make eye contact briefly with Natasha before turning to Wanda. “And because the news stations somehow get ahold of everything, I know you joined after you helped everyone stop Ultron before he could create that indestructible body and destroy the world.”

“Yes, that’s true. Although I wish I could’ve saved my brother, too.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you lost him...or that you even had a brother.”

“It’s okay,” Wanda assures you with a smile as she lets go of Natasha, shifting to the other side of the elevator to grab your free hand. “I asked Fury to keep Pietro a secret because I didn’t want to see or hear any negative opinions from people that never even met him.”

“And we have plenty of time to get to know each other,” Natasha chimes in as the doors open to reveal a new setting. “This is our floor. We set up a spare bedroom here so we can spend time together away from the boys...when you’re not with Peter, of course.”

“Yeah, that’d be great!”

They lead you past their living room and kitchen, and you shamelessly admire the simple decor with little personal touches spread about. Turning into a hallway, Natasha walks ahead of you and Wanda to open a door to a bedroom.

“What do you think?” she asks with a smile that widens upon seeing your expression. “I’m guessing it’s good, then.”

“It’s perfect!” you cry out as you walk past to enter the room, immediately noticing the eggshell colored walls trimmed with your favorite color along the borders. “Wow, this is four times the size of a normal bedroom. Wait a minute.”

“Do you like it?” Wanda asks when she sees you pick up the glass figurine on the nightstand. “Peter mentioned your love of this animal and I have a whole collection of them from different places.”

“Like it? I love it! I have the same one in my dorm room!”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I can get you a different one.” She steps forward as she brings your suitcase to the floor beside the bed and you hug the small object close to your chest.

“Like I said, it’s perfect,” you assure her with a grin, which brings one to her own face.

“Well, I’m glad you’re happy with the set up. When you’re ready to head up to dinner, we’ll be waiting by the elevator. Also, if you ever need anything, our room is right across the hall.”

Natasha points to the closed door a few feet away, and you acknowledge her statement with a nod before they leave the room, closing your door nearly all the way behind them. You flop down on the bed with a dreamy sigh as you gaze up at the ceiling with a night sky painted on it.

“I don’t think I’ll ever want to leave this place.”

On the elevator ride up to join everyone for dinner, Natasha and Wanda take turns asking you questions about your classes and any friends you’d made, what you liked to do when you weren’t studying. You had to admit that the level of interest they had with you was shocking but flattering, especially when they insisted you sit between them at the table to continue your conversation.

“You don’t seem to be nervous anymore,” Peter acknowledges as you sit down, and Wanda faces you immediately.

“Were you nervous about meeting us?”

“Well, yeah,” you answer timidly, avoiding catching anyone’s curious glances by directing a glare toward Peter. “You might be normal people in here, but to the rest of the world, you’re portrayed as powerful and untouchable beings.”

“Maybe when they’re not talking about how much damage we’ve caused,” Bruce mumbles under his breath as the elevator doors opened again.

“I’m here, I’m here!” a voice calls as footsteps hurry toward the dining area, and Sam Wilson is revealed as he rounds the corner. “Sorry, I’m late. I was--”

“On a date, we know. You only told us that 500 times.”

“Don’t be jealous, old man. You’re married.” Sam grins at Clint as he sits next to him before his attention turns to you. “Do we have a newbie?”

“No, Mr. Wilson. This is my best friend, Y/N.”

“Call me Sam, kid.” He smiles at you as he goes for his silverware, and you’re just about to acknowledge him when his expression suddenly turns serious. “I’m sorry. You’re not a kid. You’re an independent and capable adult, and I should address you as such.”

“What the hell was that?”

“I don’t know.” Sam clears his throat and shakes his head as if he was clearing his mind. “I just suddenly felt the need to correct myself…You have any powers we should know about, Y/N?”

“No!” you quickly respond with widened eyes. “I wasn’t going to say anything, actually. I’m pretty used to older people calling me kid by now.”

From your left side, Natasha asks Clint to recall an embarrassing tale for you and the table livens up again, but you can’t seem to move past the unsettling way Sam shifted gears from calm and casual to uptight and disciplined. The image stayed with you through the rest of dinner even after he seemed to fully recover, until dishes were cleared away and replaced with games, and you suddenly had a lot more to focus on.

“I just don’t think it’s fair that he gets to be on your team again when I haven’t had him once.”

“Is anything fair with the guy who could use his personalized AI to cheat for him?”

“Could I do that? Yes. But have I done that? Maybe.”

“Wanna grab some fresh air with us?” Natasha suddenly asks you, causing you to frown.

“Aren’t we about to play another game?”

“It’ll take them another half hour before they finally decide something,” Wanda assures you as her fingers thread through yours gently. “We have plenty of time, and they won’t even notice we’re gone.”

They lead you by the hand to the elevator once more, going up a few floors before leading you out onto a balcony. Because you were so much higher than most of the surrounding buildings, there was an incredible view of the sun that was probably minutes away from disappearing to the other side of the world. The air is chillier than when you’d arrived, but you had to admit that standing in the cool breeze is worth a few goosebumps on your skin. Your hands are released as you reach a bench near the ledge, and you climb over it to sit as the other two women settle on either side of you.

“Why did Peter decide to share his secret with you?”

“Technically he didn’t,” you recall with a laugh. “He’d gone out to deal with something that activated his spider sense or whatever and I came to his dorm room to sleep after an exam because I was too tired to walk all the way to my place. Anyway, I walk in at the same time he’s coming back in through the window, and I swear we both sat there for a full two minutes before either of us could think of anything to say.”

“It’s still very nice of you to keep such a big secret for him,” Natasha praises, and your laughter quiets down as you take in her words.

“I guess I just know what it feels like to not want your life to change drastically because of one thing.” Your gaze shifts between the women for a moment. “That reminds me, I wanted to ask--”

“Wait, look at this!” Wanda quickly cuts you off with an enthusiastic grin. “You’re about to witness one of my favorite things about living here.”

She directs you to lean over and look at the streets as the sun finally disappears over the horizon, and you can’t help the small gasp that escapes you. Street lights begin turning on at what seems to be the center of the city and quickly spreading, increasing the radius of well-lit neighborhoods by the second. It was a mesmerizing sight that--until every lamp was on--nearly made you forget the question you were building toward.

“That was so cool!” you express honestly before clearing your throat awkwardly. “So I wanted to ask if the two of you were dating...or in a relationship or whatever. I mean, I don’t want to assume anything of course, just wondering because you share a room and floor, and you seem to be really into holding hands.”

“Well, I’d never really been into holding hands or a lot of other forms of affection before I met Wanda, but she seemed to flip some switch inside of me.” Natasha admitted with a bashful chuckle as she glanced at Wanda before turning to study you. “And your hands are so perfect to hold.”

“To answer your question, we are together.” Wanda rests a hand on your thigh and casts a sweet smile in your direction when you face her again. “Natasha was the first to give me a chance after everything with Ultron, and initially I thought I was just feeling grateful to receive some type of positive attention from someone other than Pietro. It wasn’t until Tash called me out on staring at her lips that I realized I wanted more than friendship.”

“The only reason I did was to confirm she was feeling the same things I’d finally come to terms with myself.” Natasha chuckles as Wanda sends over a bit of red mist to squeeze her own thigh. “What about you, love?”

“What about me?”

“Do you think you’re feeling more than friendship for Peter?”

“Oh no,” you quickly denied with a chuckle. “He’s the perfect example of a great boyfriend, but not my boyfriend. Plus I’d rather not have the same experience as MJ did.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, the ‘close friends to a relationship that ends with each person pretending the other doesn’t exist’ experience. I’d rather not.”

“Yeah, that does sound messy,” Natasha sighs as she subtly rests her hand on your other thigh. “So you’re not looking for a great boyfriend. What are you looking for then?”

“Nothing really, at least until I finish school, but having a girlfriend would be nice. I’d like to be with someone that respects me and can take care of themselves when I’m not around, because I tried the ‘caring for someone’ thing and it sucks when they don’t put in the same effort that you do.”

“Maybe you should try someone older, more mature,” Natasha suggests as she shifts to squeeze your knee lightly, and you start to feel a bit nervous about where she’s going with this. “Maybe two people that already have their shit together and would go to the ends of the earth to please you.”

“Okay, um…” You push both of their hands away with a bit of difficulty. “You both seem great and you’re incredibly attractive, but I’m not really interested.”

“Don’t worry about it, detka.” Natasha pushes your shoulder down as you try to get up, and Wanda cups your cheek with her hand.

“You may not be interested now…” She stands with Natasha and leans in to kiss your forehead, letting her lips linger on your skin as she continues. “But you will be.”

She pulls away and winks before lacing her fingers through Natasha’s as they leave the balcony, and you gasp in air as the tension they’d built seems to exit behind them. You finally decide to head back once you’ve taken a few minutes to catch your breath and calm your shaking limbs, but you wonder how long the calm will truly last.

You found yourself waking up suddenly and practically flying into a sitting position as if someone had pulled you up, but luckily the room is empty. You sit for a moment to catch your breath and survey your surroundings to assure you’re truly alone, and you notice your door is cracked right before you hear an unidentifiable sound.

“Fuck.”

Despite every fiber of your being screaming at you as one would do to a character in a horror film, you decide to climb out of bed to investigate what you were hearing, justifying your actions with the excuse of seeing if your floor-mates were in danger, as if you could save them. A few seconds after opening your door fully and peeking out made you realize that they were more than okay.

“Fuck! Right there, please don’t stop.”

“Such a dirty mouth, malyshka.”

You’re quick to return the door to its cracked position, leaning against the nearby wall with wide eyes as you attempt to process the image across the hall. The bedroom door sits wide open, giving you the chance to examine every inch of bare skin of the two women spread across the bed, Wanda resting on her arched back with her hands in Natasha’s red hair buried between her legs. Her moans seem to raise in volume, pitch and frequency as she’s brought closer and closer to the edge, and you ignore the warm feeling in your lower abdomen as you hurry back to bed and throw a pillow over your exposed ear.

“Good morning.”

Your free hand quickly shoots upward to catch your water glass as it slipped through your fingers in your moment of shock, and you try not to make a deal of hearing two sets of footsteps headed toward the kitchen.

“How’d you sleep last night? I know how scary it can be to rest your eyes in a new place.”

“I think I did pretty well,” you answer quietly as you step away from the fridge and lean against a section of the counter that faces out into the rest of the room. “The bed’s really nice.”

“You’re lying,” Wanda accuses as she crosses the room, eyes turning red and hands lifting toward your face.

“What are you--”

“Couldn’t sleep because of us, right?” She chuckles when you go limp under her touch, and Natasha ducks between the two of you to save your glass for the second time. “Did you enjoy hearing us that much?”

“You did sound really good,” you tell her with a drowsy smile as she pins you against the counter to keep you from falling.

“I bet you wish you were in my place, don’t you?” Her tone is light and teasing at first, becoming a bit stern as she shifts to push her thigh between your legs and you instantly roll your hips against the pressure. “Or maybe you want to taste me while Natasha fucks you?”

“No.”

“No?!” she fires back immediately, leaving a red mist around your temples as she grabs your waist with both hands to keep you grinding against her. “You mean you don’t want to cum right now?”

“Well, now that you mention it…”

A breathy moan escapes you as your eyes flutter closed, and if your head wasn’t being forcefully held in place, it would’ve tipped backward. You feel what must be Natasha’s fingertips grazing along your jaw and tracing a line down the side of your neck and toward your shoulder, repeating the gentle motion as goosebumps appeared all over the exposed skin.

“Is everyone decent?”

The fog behind your eyes seems to clear in seconds, and you blink in confusion when you open your eyes to see Natasha and Wanda making coffee nearby. You try to recall even coming into the kitchen, but everything from the moment you stepped into the bathroom to get ready is a blur, so you shake your head and reach for your glass of water on the counter as Natasha responds.

“Come in, Peter.”

“Morning, everyone,” Peter greets cheerfully as he enters the kitchen, his grin falling when his eyes land on you. “Are you okay?”

You open your mouth with the full intention of telling him that you are not okay, not when you were missing at least an hour of memory, and bits of last night were slipping away from you too. But before you could speak, a cold feeling seems to pass through the back of your skull to slip into your brain, and a switch flips.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” you respond with a chuckle. “You worry too much, spiderling.”

“The world’s a stressful place,” he grumbles when you playfully ruffle his hair. “Anyway, are you ready to go soon?”

“Where are you headed?” Natasha quickly asks with a frown. “Y/N hasn’t even had breakfast yet.”

“We’re meeting Aunt May, so we’ll eat with her.”

“I just have to grab my bag,” you explain before heading down the hall to your temporary room, feeling the chilly sensation leaving you as you get further away from the kitchen, and it thankfully doesn’t return when you head back. “Ready.”

“Have fun!” Natasha calls as Peter heads for the elevator again, quickly grabbing your wrist once he’s out of sight. “See you tonight, printsessa.”

Her hand quickly shifts to grip the back of your neck as she leans in to kiss your cheek, and the two women are wearing sweet smiles as you turn away from them to catch up with Peter, attempting to shake the shell-shocked expression from your features.

“You sure you’re good?”

“I’m fine,” you insist as the doors close, in hopes that you really would be fine.

Meeting Peter’s aunt was much more of a pleasant experience than you expected, and it was obvious she adored you by the way she spoke to you, although part of you felt she was just happy Peter had more people around to love him. Your day was cut a bit short when MJ unexpectedly approached Peter, requesting to talk to him, and Aunt May offered to drive you back to the tower so you both could escape that awkward mess of a conversation.

“It was so great to meet you today,” you tell her with a grin as you take off your seatbelt.

“Likewise, honey. You have my number so just call me if you ever need anything, okay?”

She pulls you into a hug over the middle console and you thank her again for the ride as you get out of the car, trying not to seem too nervous when you notice Natasha and Wanda standing in the lobby. Your plan was to walk past them without speaking, but you should’ve known that wouldn’t work.

“Why was she hugging you?” Natasha asks coldly as you enter the building and you sigh.

“She was just saying goodbye--wait. Why am I explaining myself to you?”

You keep walking until they’re no longer in your peripheral, stopping abruptly as a red mist surrounds your legs, and your eye-rolling is cut short when Wanda appears in front of you and grabs your chin harshly.

“If Tash asks you a question, you answer.”

“Without attitude,” Natasha adds, which makes you want to roll your eyes again.

“Sorry, I didn’t get the rules handbook when I arrived. Can I go now?”

“You know what?” Wanda cuts off Natasha’s angry response with a smirk. “You can go.”

The red mist surrounding you disappeared, and despite the suspicious feeling that washed over you, you continued on toward the elevator with your head held high. You refused to let them get to you.

It was subtle at first. A slight tingling between your legs that you couldn’t seem to get rid of. In the very beginning, you were worried that something was wrong until you realized where the feeling was coming from when it turned into slow circles around your clit as you caught up with Peter in his room. By dinner, there was the added sensation of fingers curling inside you at a steady pace, and you hoped no one would notice your hips slightly bucking under the table as you attempted to repeatedly chase a release that never came.

A movie follows dinner today, and you make sure to cover yourself with a large blanket because you were still being edged and you couldn’t stop moving at this point. You even try to slide your hand into your sweatpants to finish the job yourself, and your jaw clenches in anger every time your fingers lock up because you know who’s responsible.

“Okay, you win!” you announce as you walk into the kitchen on Natasha and Wanda’s private floor, not missing the look shared between the two women. “I’m sorry I was rude earlier. Can you please just stop teasing me?”

“How about we help you finish instead?”

You should decline. You should just say ‘no’ because letting them finish you off tonight will turn into an attachment that you know you don’t want, nor are you ready for. Inviting them in will be equivalent to selling your soul, and you’re not sure you want to put a price on it. But the ache below your stomach is persistent, and if they won’t let you touch yourself, someone has to do it.

“Fine.”

“Don’t be so grumpy about it,” Wanda teases as she grabs your hand and starts leading you toward their bedroom. “I promise you won’t regret it.”

She pushes you back onto the surprisingly large bed as soon as you’re close enough, instructing you to take off your shirt and bra while she watches. Once your top half is completely exposed, she leans forward to run her hands from your shoulders down toward your nipples, circling them with her thumbs until they harden.

“I don’t like being teased.”

“Oh, you don’t?” she asks in a mocking tone as she reaches for the band of your sweatpants and pulls them down, placing her palm over the wet spot in your panties. “Then what’s this?”

“Please,” you beg through a quiet moan, bucking your hips again when she presses her thumb against your clit through the fabric. “Please just fuck me already.”

“Patience, detka.”

You watch with wide eyes as Natasha and Wanda both strip away their own sweatpants, revealing the toys tied to their legs. Natasha goes to untie hers while Wanda uses her powers to rip away your ruined panties in one fluid motion.

“There she is.”

Natasha puts her hand on Wanda’s back and forces her to bend over, and you bite your lip as her eyes flutter closed and mouth falls open while Natasha thrusts into her. You’re just about to grab Wanda’s hand to lead her where you want, when her eyes open suddenly with a glowing red surrounding her pupils, and your wrists are bound together over your head by an invisible force.

“Did you forget who’s in charge here?”

“Don’t get too cocky, malyshka,” Natasha reminds her as she grabs a fistful of her hair and slams into her, causing Wanda to moan and giggle at the same time.

“My apologies, Tash.”

You couldn’t help your sigh of relief as Wanda finally slid two fingers inside of you, her thrusts deepening each time as Natasha fucked her toward you with her hands on her hips. The sounds coming from your mouth and between your legs were embarrassingly loud, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as she brought you closer and closer to the edge, until a loud whine escaped you as she removed her fingers and delivered a slap to your glistening folds.

“Tell me who this belongs to,” she orders through her own moans, holding you down when you begin grinding into her hand. “I’m gonna cum regardless of what you do, so you’d better answer. Be a good girl like I know you can.”

“Yours!” you cry out finally, sighing when Natasha leans into your line of sight with a brow raised. “It’s yours and Natasha’s.”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

She slips back into you without warning, and your back arches off the bed as she finally brings you to orgasm. She continues to thrust into you as you whine and squirm away, luckily slowing down and finally stopping as Natasha makes her cum a minute later, leaving the strap inside of her as they both catch their breath. Wanda pulls out of you and sits up to lean against her, holding her hand up between them as they both clean your cum off her fingers with their tongues, and you sit there clenching around nothing as you watch.

“You seem tired,” Natasha comments as her eyes land on you again.

“Too bad we’re not done.”

Wanda flips you onto your stomach with a quick motion of her fingers, using her hands to pull you by the waist until you’re on your knees at the edge of the bed, and she holds one side of your waist as she delivers a slap to your ass this time. Her touch lingers as she pulls away to free her own strap, and you nearly fall over when you feel the tip of the toy rub against your clit.

“Wait, let me fuck her this time.”

You hear their soft laughter as they switch places, sharing a kiss in the process, and you gasp when a hand wraps around your neck and pulls you up against Natasha’s chest.

“I like having you this close to me, printsessa,” she whispers in your ear, chuckling when you melt against her as she pushes the tip of her strap into you. “How many times do you think I can get you to cum?”

Her grip on your throat is loose as she allows you to adjust to the size, tightening suddenly when she slams into you once, twice, until every thrust is at a rough pace that you wouldn’t be able to handle if she wasn’t holding you against her by the waist. You feel that same tingling circling your clit again, occasionally traveling upward to tease your nipples as well, and it wasn’t long before you were releasing a strangled scream as you climaxed.

Natasha eventually stops thrusting into you as your legs shake, and you breathe out another sigh of relief when she allows you to fall onto the mattress. However, the relief is short-lived when you realize that she only paused to let Wanda push into her from behind, and it wasn’t long before the two of them found a rhythm that was pleasing them and ruining you.

Your wrists are freed as Natasha pulls out of you some minutes later, and you collapse onto one side of the bed with your body aching a bit from a third orgasm, your eyes only halfway open as you watch the pair. They remove the straps from their waists and set them aside, and you become a bit more alert when you notice Natasha grab what seems to be a double-ended dildo.

“No more. I can’t,” you mumble tiredly as your wrists are bound by Wanda’s power again.

“One more, and you can,” she tells you as she flops onto the bed beside you, and that red mist surrounds her fingers again as she guides you onto your knees to hover above her face. “You wanted to cum, so you don’t get to run from this.”

Her hands grab your waist and pull you closer, and you release a shuddering moan as her tongue runs past your hole and over your clit, teasing it a few times with the tip of her tongue before diving in to wrap her lips around it. She alternates between sucking your clit and slipping inside you as Natasha climbs on the bed behind you to position herself with the new toy.

“Fuck,” Wanda attempts to say once Natasha begins thrusting, and you fall forward as the vibration of her moans become too much, whining when Natasha slides her hands over your breasts and pulls you back up again.

“Take it all like a good girl.”

She keeps pulling until your head drops against her, and she moans against your neck while she kisses and sucks on your skin, bouncing faster on Wanda who groans loudly in response as she attempts to match each thrust. The hums of her voice has you grinding against her tongue, and you yelp when Natasha bites down just as Wanda brings you over the edge. She keeps going despite your protests, managing to get you to cum once more before they finally do.

You lie there with your bones feeling like jelly as you’re covered with a blanket minutes after everyone’s bathroom trip, too tired to even fight for sleeping in your own bed as Natasha and Wanda slide in on either side of you.

“You did so well tonight, detka,” Wanda praises as she strokes your cheek with a loving stare. “I can tell you’ll be a great addition to our relationship. I knew it from the moment I saw you.”

“I’m not doing this again,” you insist as the smile fades from her expression. “I’m not getting in a relationship with two women that don’t take ‘no’ for an answer, and I’d prefer sleeping in my own bed.”

“You’re already in a relationship with us, printsessa,” Natasha growls as she shoves you back down when you try to get up, and you push her hand away.

“There’s nothing you can say that’ll make me want to be with you.”

“It’s not about what you want to do. It’s about what you have to do.” She grabs your phone from the nightstand, and you’re somehow not even surprised when she unlocks it on the first try. “Because it’d be a shame if someone was to tell Peter about all the nudes you have of him.”

You snatch the phone from her grip, eyes widening as you scroll through your camera roll, finding naked pictures of Peter scattered throughout it. You check the date on the oldest one and began to feel nauseous when you saw it was taken not even a month after the two of you met.

“Don’t think you’ll be deleting those either, because we can replace them and make things worse.” Her smile was falsely sweet and troubling as she grabbed your chin to force you to make eye contact. “We’ve gone this long without having you, and we’ll do whatever it takes not to lose you.”

Tags: @cordeliaswhore @egotisticalstoner @muralskins @natasha-danvers @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @madamevirgo @teenwonder @honeyvenable @slut-for-nat

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namgee · 3 years

Text

cry baby | jjk (m)

❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader (f) ❥genre: smut, pwp, fwb au, university au (barely lol), fluff, 18+ ❥word count: 16.7k ❥summary:

Jeon Jungkook [Jeon Jeong-gug] noun

1. The friendly (and hot) employee at your local roller rink. 2. Your friend with benefits of 3 months. 3. Someone who’s currently pissed at you for not casting your decisive vote on him in the disco rollerskating contest at his workplace. 4. A vengeful man determined on using his best assets to make you cry.

❥warnings: alcohol, cunnilingus, blowjob, deep throating, slight dom jungkook (?), tattooed jk (that I didn’t mention enough tbh 😩), fingering, rough sex, some overstimulation, some slight edging some spanking, biting (this could have been written as a vampire au lol), light exhibitionism, sex in public places, reader gives a lot of looks 👀 (let me know if I forgot something) ❥a/n: this story jumps time a bit at the start I actually got confused with the tense since I’m so used to writing in the present tense, hopefully it’s not too confusing and doesn’t mess with the flow of the story, i was trying two new things with this story : writing smut and exploring new story structure, sorry for any spelling mistakes 🥺. any feedback is appreciated ;)) btw the title was inspired by the movie cause jungkook’s looks for the dicon shoot fit it to the T. ❥taglist: @min-nicoleee @jeonsjiddies @ggukkieland

You really like fucking Jeon Jungkook.

He is made of just the right ratio of hardness and softness. You can simultaneously take an impromptu seat on the set of hard thighs that made for an irresistible lap. Thighs that still manage to mold themselves into the perfect weapon to attack the ever growing heat in your center. It’s precisely because of how much you like being confined under his heaving torso in the darkness of the night or the crack of dawn that you loved to stir his competitive spirit.

Jungkook has been working at Diane’s Rink since his sophomore year of high school. Now two years into college and very capable of finding a better paying job he still chooses to remain an employee. The boss, Diane Berry, knows very well about the positive impact his presence has on her business, so she decided long ago to give him some perks apart from the bonus that grows for every year he remained an employee.

One of the perks is allowing him, as staff, to participate in events held by the rink. From there on Jungkook has won the annual disco roller skating championship “Disco Craze” for four years in a row! A fit that he deserves, he is a great skater after all.

A year ago you had moved from out of town to attend college. During your minimal sightseeing you come across a poster for the rink and its annual championship at the town hall. It turned out a friend of your roommate, Kyra, was a frequent visitor and was going to participate.

On a chilly autumn day, the three of you headed to the rink itching for any kind of entertainment. Upon entering, the atmosphere was bubbling, strobe lights colouring smiling faces, people were gathered around the rink already cheering even though the competition wasn’t supposed to start for another fifteen minutes.

However, the minute you caught sight of what they were all looking at, an understanding nod was all you could give. Right there in the middle of the rink, the body of a well-shaped man clad with snug flare jeans skated effortlessly around as he swept the floor. You watched for a while as he moved around sweeping the same area a total of three times. Wow, he must really love the attention.

The competition started soon after you managed to get some snacks. Everyone clapped as the contestants entered the rink and lined themselves up for presentation. You were close to the rink ready to see it all when the real snack took the stage.

Your roommate’s friend happened to be good, so good he managed to make you snatch your prying eyes away from “Mr. Swipe the Floor” for a good amount of time. Your attention was however brought back by the matter at hand as the sight of the most perfectly shaped globes of rear meat wrapped in a thin coat of denim passed by your eyes and you felt the urge to tap in.

His performance on the rink, as if he was born in skates, didn’t help the matter at hand. Just like that, as if you were a primal woman hunting for a suiting partner and he was unaware of performing a nuptial dance, you made your mind then and there to somehow before the time you finish your education have him sweep something else other than the skating floor.

Everyone needs something to motivate them to keep going. Unfortunately for you, after that momentary day there weren’t many opportunities for you to go to attack. You can’t lie, you felt slightly guilty going after an oblivious prey, not that he looked like a prey. However, unknowing to you, your catch would lead to a drastic shift in your roles.

After a couple of months an opportunity finally presented itself. It was a Friday, the day after the fall midterm exam, and it was party time. Knowing fully well that his party royalty friends would drag him there, you figured you should go and try your luck.

Somehow between finding out Kyra is a hardcore partygoer and getting lost in the enticing swing of the music you forgot about your primary mission. But a quick trip to the restroom, one which forced you to pass dozens of bodies plastered to the wall in pairs of two made sure to remind you of the night’s purpose.

You searched around for him, a harder task than you had expected as people flocked around him and his friend group. You cursed yourself for the misfortune of having your eyes set on the popular boy with slick hair that’s otherwise hanging in loose waves, tucked behind his ears or in a bun. But it was too late then, you wanted something, someone and you were out to get it.

In your moment of extreme strength and confidence, all of which were fuelled by Kyra’s weird and possibly slightly poisoning alcohol blend, you gave your best (and thankfully only) shot. Your eyes zeroed in on the man who you had come to know as Jungkook as he continued to socialise with his group of friends.

The distance between the two of you wasn’t big (you had after all been creeping for most of the night) and no one was exactly looking at you, yet you put on your best stance and strutted confidently towards him. You had talked to Jungkook before for a grand total of two times, both of those instances were in class, so it technically didn’t count. As you approached the large group of people, shivers travelled up your spine at the sight of yet another snug pair of pants paired with a belt that accentuated his waist.

Just for a second you felt jealous and a bit insecure as you stared down at your own form. However, drunk you couldn’t keep her mind one thing for too long unless it was Jeon Jungkook (and some other miscellaneous but important things). The Jungkook that was looking at you as you lifted your head back up.

FUCK.

You had imagined the first time you caught him looking at you to be very different. You were supposed to look confident, disinterested but still somehow soft. You thought that in some way, because women are amazing, you would have figured out how to make it all work.

Yet there you were looking back, gaze wavering to let yourself catch a breath. You were one hundred percent sure he was making you more intoxicated than whatever it was you drank.

It was the forehead exposure, coupled with a sweet looking, curious puppy dog face that really made you realise you were fucked and you really wanted to get fucked. That day was your lucky day, maybe he had been looking for a charity case. Jungkook’s eyes kept trailing past your tight fitting crop top to your fidgeting legs as you curved his group of friends and headed back the way you had come. The drink you had taken in the name of liquid courage had done absolutely nothing to help, but that time you didn’t mind, he had done exactly what you wanted without any prompting from your end.

Your legs shuffled quickly away from them, crossing your fingers (in your mind of course), hoping his experience with the ladies made the message clear. You walked far enough to see Kyra’s reappearing form and still no sign of Jungkook anywhere near you. Maybe he wasn’t as intuitive as you had thought him to be. Or he was just playing with you the same way you would want to play with him, back and forth to see who would cave in first.

Your chest deflated the closer you got to Kyra and you didn’t understand the enthusiastic smile she threw your way as she turned her back to you. Hmmm, okay, you guessed that was her way of cheering a friend up. You got near enough to whisper-yell at her about your debacle, but a smooth criminal wannabe named Jungkook got in between and you don’t think you had been any more happy in your life.

“Thank god,” you whispered to yourself, pussy clenching right back up at the close up sight of his slick hair, the dizzying scent of his surprisingly sweet smelling perfume filling your nose as you attempted to discreetly inhale it all in, only to let out a loud sigh that bordered on a moan.

“What’s your name?” He asked softly, eyes shifting to your feet to watch you take a small step back. You told yourself you moved to get a better look at him, to be able to be in control, enough to gauge the situation. You and him both knew it was a lie. You lost your footing at the sight of him and the creeping smirk on his lips which his teeth tried to fight away did more than just show his satisfaction.

But now that you were the tiniest bit farther away from him, you made the bold choice of looking up at him. He was still staring at you, everywhere. Face, cleavage, legs, the hands that toyed with the fabric of your pants. All you managed to catch, now that he was that much closer to you, closer than he had ever been and yet it didn’t feel close enough, was the glorious undercut on his head. If you didn’t want to fuck him before, now you definitely do.

He waved a hand in front of your face? Your eyes bulged. “What?” You sounded like a dumbass.

“Your name?” His head leaned closer into your space and your hand awkwardly traveled to swipe past your nose, hoping it was enough protection from his very conscious attack.

“Hmm right… Y/N.” You gave him a strained smile. You were really straining after all, straining to keep yourself from jumping him in the middle of a room full with people.

“I’ve seen you at Diane’s Rink before, do you skate?”

Jungkook was making small talk with you and you never thought you would ever think this but it was weird. Though you couldn’t control the way your heart skipped at the fact that he had noticed you before.

“No. I don’t skate. I’m just there because my roommate's friend skates a lot, she introduced me to the place and you know, I thought why not. So like I end up going there whenever, I don’t have specific days or anything, yeah… I just think it’s a dope place to be at. Roller skating is fun and Diane’s Rink is just the right place to do that… yeah but as I said I don’t really skate…” If the amount of finger snaps, lip smacks, and shoulder shrugs inserted in between your reply wasn’t embarrassing enough, the weird skating motion you did with your body took the cake.

But even through all of that, he chuckled. He chuckled loud enough for you to see his chest vibrate as the skin beside his eyes and nose scrunch up cutely. How? You swear you could have fried eggs on him just a minute ago (yes that’s how hot he was) and now this. Jungkook was already asking too much of your body and you hadn’t even gotten in his pants yet. He let his soft chuckle die out, head hanging low along with his hair and decided it was time for you to die as he faced your gaze again, tattooed hand brushing through his hair as a full-blown smile adorned his mischievous expression.

Your Jungkook induced trance was broken for a second as you registered the quick floundering of someone’s hand behind him. Kyra’s hand. She made small hearts in front of her eyes only to make a cross with her arms. You gave her a pleading look. You guess it wasn’t enough for Jungkook to ask much of you but then your roommate wanted you to spare the little self control you had left to suppress your full blown heart eyes for a man and his skin tight leather pants.

You bit the inside of your cheek in hopes it would do something to bring your sanity back, anything. Jungkook’s right hand left his jacket pocket as he extended the tattooed hand your way, “You’re cute. By the way, I’m Jungkook.”

No. No. No! Wrong! He was lucky you already knew his name, how the heck did he expect someone to hear anything he says after he calls them cute, big gentle eyes looking at you. Also, have scientists yet to discover extra nerve endings on people’s hands because you’re sure a handshake wasn’t supposed to feel that good and warm.

You stared at the way his hand surrounded your own. You were barely putting any strength into it (not that you had any). It was all too much for you and you snatched your hand away, shaking it as if you had just touched a hot pan. Now the whole of you had warmed up to an extra degree.

“I’m going to get us some drinks. Would you like that?” You didn’t give him any time to properly answer before you were sprinting past his frame to grab onto Kyra’s arm as you pulled her to wherever the alcohol was. You turned a corner and found a safe place for the two of you to chat.

“Kyra it’s bad. Like really bad,” you whisper-yelled. “He’s all unaffected, making small talk for some weird reason and standing so close I almost, no I actually forget my own name. You know what, maybe I’m trying to catch a fish that’s just too big. I don’t think I’m ready to play with him yet. I should work my way up to the big boss, don’t you think? Maybe start with some hot dude from the sports department then someone from the arts department and then Jungkook from the science department. That’s a foolproof plan. What do you think?” You paced around her, sporting a convincing voice hoping that it was enough to fool your brain into downgrading its desires for a while cause your heart just wasn’t ready for him yet.

“Hey!” Kyra slapped your arm. “It’s been what? 6, 7, 8 months of you thirsting after a man. Today it ends, my friend. I don’t care! You’re fucking Jeon Jungkook tonight. If that’s the only way for you to get it out of your system so you can notice all the other much better guys you could choose from if you want to have a meaningful and lasting relationship, then my sole mission today is to get his dick into your hole before this party ends.”

You gave her a side eye for her constant critique of your attraction to Jungkook. It is ninety percent physical but you had been around at the rink (only on the days he had a shift of course) to notice another side of him responsible for the growing ten percent of your attraction. But you would never tell that to Kyra.

“Fine… but like, what do I do? Everything that comes out of my mouth is weird shit or tmi and I’m just flustered okay.”

“Then don’t talk. Go back in there, give the drink you said you were getting–”

“You were eavesdropping on us?” Your incredulous voice didn’t even faze her. She just gave you a ‘really?’ look and you put your hands up in surrender.

“Hmm where was I? Right!” She snapped her fingers, “Take him to the dance floor, back it up on him, get him hard, then move away from the crowd a bit and pounce!” She gave you her drink for prep,“From there everything should just progress naturally, maybe y’all will start with a couch make out sesh or just jump directly to the wall one and then find some cramped up place to bone it out, maybe if you’re lucky you will find an empty room.”

You stared at her, chewing your lips.

“You can do this!” Kyra said, each hand on your respective arms as she gave you a hard stare. “Today, the thirsting ends. Okay, now go get the drinks” She shooed you away.

“Right, right. I can do this” You pumped yourself up as if you were prepping for a boxing round and honestly it wasn’t too far from the truth with the way his whole presence was making your heart hammer against your chest.

One drink in each hand you made it back to your spot, surprised and flattered that he stayed put but still nervous for what was to come. You reached out to give him a cup, the hand contact almost making you drop it.

“Hmm, sorry about earlier. I’m just you know, nervous.” You drank from your cup.

“Nervous, why?”

Kyra said no talking.

“Wanna dance?” You asked pointing to the crowd, completely ignoring his question. He shrugged his shoulder, taking a sip from his drink while squinting his eyes at you. He was feeling slightly confused by your behaviour. “Sure, why not?”

You chugged the remaining liquid in your cup, squirmed at the strength of the alcohol and made your first bold move by grabbing his open jacket and pulling him into the hot and sweaty crowd. You took a quick look at him before you did anything else and you were more than pleased to notice that he was patiently waiting for you to do something.

The drink, the sight of him, the heat in the room and in your core. It was all getting to you and you really wanted to see the arms with which he swipes the rink clean. His muscles were always straining against the black polo shirt he wears during his shifts. But that day he was sporting a white tee under the jacket and you wanted to see and feel them.

You turned around and lifted your hands to place them behind his shoulders, in his jacket and pushed it off, staring at the ground. “You know, if you’re going to undress me in public you could at least look me in the eye.” You took a deep breath and did just that, slipping the remainder of his jacket off his forearms . “That wasn’t so hard, now was it darling.” He gave you a looped-sided grin.

You were so turned on and yet you chuckled at the pet name. You didn’t hate it, but you didn’t quite like it, yet. It would have sounded much better coming from him in a gruff voice, with you placed under him taking all of him as an endless stream of moans fell out of your mouth. You needed to take another deep breath at the thought of that, hands clenching around the rough fabric of his jacket as your thighs rubbed together to get yourself under control.

“You good there darling. There’s shivers on your arms.” He pointed at you, tongue wetting his lips.

Your head snapped down to see that he was right. You rubbed your arms as fast as you could. “Let me try,” his hands replaced yours. Safe to say it didn’t help as you shivered more under his touch wishing the floor would swallow you whole. The way you reacted to the absolute minimum when it came to him was getting embarrassing. “Okay, so maybe that didn’t help,” he said and it was time for you to give a side eye, to which he chuckled, again.

Instead he brought up the jacket in your hands and dressed you in his clothes. It was way too big, but it was warm and the smell of him warded off all the sweat odour from the dance floor. You slapped your thigh, you really needed to focus. The steps were: back it up → make him hard → make out session → his dick in your hole. It was action time, baby!

You were then staring at the glory that was his chest, oscillating softly under the thin fabric of his tee and your hands ran down his arms, quick after you turned around pulling him closer unfortunately missing the sight of him shivering beneath your trailing fingers.

Your back was glued against the rigid surface of his chest as you went to town, swaying to the beat, your swiftness must have been impressive enough for him to emit a soft whistle. You did your best to suppress the proud smile forming on your lips. You kept at it, hand occasionally reaching back to rub at the back of his hair, only for him to huff and sigh in your ear prompting you to rub your hips further into his.

It wasn’t long before he was looking for more. His flexed arms caged you, as his right hand ran down your stomach to grip at your thigh just as the other hand kept a tight hold of your hip. You whimpered at his touch, chest caving inwards as your thighs attempted to shut themselves even closer pushing your butt further into his crotch for you to feel it. Strong and prominent. Jungkook hunched over, out of courtesy you thought but you pulled back to continue your tempting ministrations. The shame was gone, all you wanted was for him to feel you up.

You placed both hands behind his neck, caressing his skin and hair, rolling your hips against his even harder when the bass drops. “Ahhh,” Jungkook hissed into your neck before biting it, making you sight in response to the tightening of his grip. You could have remained pressed against him letting the heat of his chest radiate into you all day, all night frankly, but you wanted more.

Reluctantly prying yourself off his hands you turned around to face him. His gaze was hooded, lips were parted, hair disheveled from your hands, chest oscillating faster than before and you thought you detected the smallest flush on his cheeks despite the darkness of the room.

You pulled him back closer. He was really close now. Hard chest grazing hard nipples, anxious hands positioning themselves on his biceps as he rested his hands on your hips. You were really about to do it. Your hands travelled upwards to lock behind his head as he hunched down, hair falling in front of his eyes and his hands brought your chest closer. The way he tightened his hold around your torso, fingertips grazing your sides softly had you smiling into the kiss.

It all felt too good, and if you hadn’t been sure before, you were then 100 percent convinced you’re not going to get over Jungkook’s lips anytime soon. That one night would definitely not be enough. You were so fucked!

Jungkook was hungry for more contact, hands travelling south to get a generous feel of your ass, he broke the kiss cutting off your soft moans to look into your eyes, a smirk on his lips, “Baby got back.” He slapped your right cheek, and you shrieked only to sink back into moaning as he rubbed the sting away.

Before he gave it another try you pulled his head down, opening up your mouth to let him explore another part of you. The strong alcohol mix blended between your tongues, as your hands pulled the back of his t-shirt to somehow get him closer. Jungkook chuckled into your kiss and all you did was mumble a disfigured “What?!”

“Nothing,” he whispered as he lifted you up and away from the dance floor. “I just think–” peck, “it’s time we find–” peck, “another place to continue this–” peck. The domesticity of it all, despite the environment, left you stunned, cheeks warming up considerably and all you could do was hide your face in the crook of his neck. You liked it, in fact you liked it a little bit too much.

Jungkook might have wanted to give you the lovey-dovey scenario but the truth was you were at a college party, bumping with sweaty bodies on the way to find some privacy, half drunkenly tripping over littered staircases was what you needed to get through. Which you did with the help of a strong hand grabbing onto the hem of his t-shirt as you attempted to navigate the dimly lit apartment.

“Hey, hey, slow down there,” Jungkook sounded behind you as he pointed to a room that just then became vacant when two ruffled figures pursued a silent retreat from it. Though the last thing you wanted to do was slow down. You shuffled back and into the space.

The room was hot, smelled of sex and alcohol and the bed sheets were a mess. Jungkook threw a calculating eye towards the bed.

“Under the sheets?”

“Under the sheets,” you answered as you helped him discard the duvet.

“You really want to take the risk?” He asked, pointing back at the door as he walked to your side of the bed. The right side.

You thought it through in your head. The worst thing that could happen was someone walking in while Jungkook’s is balls deep in you. The best thing that could happen was Jungkook being balls deep in you. Also maybe the worst thing wasn’t t that bad after all, you thought as the thought of someone seeing Jungkook fuck you shoot a shiver up your legs and into your pussy.

“Uh huh,” you answered, breathless and squirming when his hands dove into the back of your crop top and his teeth nibbled at the exposed skin of your cleavage. “God..hmm, fuck,” he moaned into your skin making it even hotter as you ground your dripping center against his groin and your hands pulled his slick and soft hair to keep yourself from melting into a puddle.

“Please touch me.”

Your voice was barely audible in between your whimpers. Jungkook’s hands slid down your back to sprawl his big palms on your ass as he controlled your grinding, looking into your eyes. You couldn’t keep them open, not that you needed them to decipher his eagerness. If the soft moans, the big hands and the biting weren’t enough to let you know exactly how he was feeling, his dick was more than glad to help as it grew stiffer by the minute, grazing harder and harder against your drenching heat.

Did you love the way his hands glided over your heated skin, seemingly setting it on fire as he kneaded it every chance he got? Yes! But you wanted him to touch you elsewhere.

“Plea—ah, touch m—oh.”

Jungkook kept showing you that there were more ways to use his mouth. He had kissed and bit you but nothing could have prepared you for his sucking. Somehow while you were busy craving for his touch, he had undone your bra and discarded it somewhere and now he had his warm and wet mouth around your sensitive mound as his hand massaged the other. His hot tongue swept over the thin fabric covering your nipple, biting the erect tip only for you to whine and squirm at the loss of contact with his cock.

He took his time, enough for sweat beads to form along your hairline. You whined, pushing yourself against any surface of him within your reach. You could have been vocal about wanting to feel him on you, skin burning against yours, to feel him in you, his strong appendage exploring your heat. Yet you kept your mouth shut for fear of the sound that might leave you

Jungkook gave your breast a particularly hard bite before your hand slid from your hair past your slippery chest to hold onto his slick locks. Your uncontrolled, whiny moans didn’t seem to do much to change Jungkook’s speed. Somehow, his exploration of your breasts became even more languid, lending enough time for your breaths to become synchronized.

His tongue trailed its way back up to graze your slack jaw as your eager hands latched on the thin fabric of his t-shirt to push him down onto the bed. That seemed to bring him back to reality, glazed eyes staring right at you. Jungkook thought that you wanted it to be a two-way street, not just him pleasuring you but you him. However his jittery leg couldn't’’t help but show his eagerness to try out whatever it is that he had in mind.

“So….” He exhaled, breathing slowly going back to normal.

You started a bit longer at him, after all, this wasn’t about Jungkook getting his fill, it was about you getting yours. You were the one who had been fantasizing about this for an unhealthy amount of time. So truthfully, you weren’t looking for a two-way street. You wanted something else. “I want to use you.” At that his leg stopped bouncing.

Maybe you knew a lot less about Jungkook that you thought. At the sight of his rippling muscles removing his t-shirt the “keep your mouth closed” rule you had imposed on yourself flew out of the window. Your shining eyes gained a chuckle. “You look like a kid in a candy story,” he said while he crossed his arms hoping his bulging biceps would divert your attention from another straining part of him. Jungkook deducted that you liked to watch as your teeth abused your lips, to let your eyes run past his tooth-rothening sweet expression to his broad shoulders that were slightly red from your previous eagerness, down his chest to his happy trail and equality happy dick.

He was right, you liked watching, but not just watching anyone, watching him. You were finally getting front row, uncensored material to fill all the previous fantasies you had had of him at night, in the morning, in class, at the rink, anywhere really.

You dropped to your knees, ass on your feet, as your hands ran down his thighs to feel them clench under your touch, “Don’t worry I’m not too much of a kid, I won’t take too much and leave you dry,” you said, floundering hands reaching for his zipper. Jungkook made it easier for you, spreading his legs to let you closer into his space.

You couldn’t help but stare at the bulge in front of you only to shy away and stare at the floor, You took an apprehensive look at Jungkook whose lips were slightly parted, eyes soft, waiting for you. For someone who was just having a quick fling he was weirdly patient and understanding. “Sorry for staring,” you whispered, undoing the zipper and reaching behind as he lifted his hips from the bed for you to pull his pants and underwear down his ass. A soft grunt escaped his lips as your finger grazed the flesh of his toned ass.“As long as you’re not disgusted. If anything I’m flattered.” He smiled down at you.

He spread his thighs wider, allowing you a full view of his veiny up-curved cock, rushing blood tainting the tip an angry red. Now he was showing off, to which you threw him a sly smile which he returned with a wink as you shook your head, hand reaching for the alluring throbbing length. At your touch you heard a sharp intake of air above you, you gave a tentative lick to his tip receiving a slight jolt.

You had gotten so far, yet the prospect of having Jungkook staring at you as you blew him off had you shy. With a gentle hand to his hard chest you prompted him to lay down on the bed. “Stay down,” you breathed against his dick. “Unfai–ahhh” he didn’t get to finish his protest as you enveloped your warm mouth around his thick tip, swirling it around as the salty taste of precum coated your tongue and an involuntary hum of approval reverberated in your chest. Yeah this was worth it, you thought as you plunged more of him into your mouth to his approving groans. “Fuck, oh, you feel so good.” You didn’t think of yourself as having much of a praising kink, but the praise coming from him with a throaty voice in between his gasps, had your pride swelling along with his cock.

Your head bobbed up and down his hard shaft, saliva coating the surface generously as your hand twists around his length. A particularly good suck of your mouth on his cock had Jungkook’s thighs clenching around your frame, a hand rooting itself on your hair. “Yeah, right there. Fuck.” You repeated the same movement whining at his tightening grip.”Sh–agh I’m gonna cum soon if yo– oh fuck you’re too go–” Your thighs were clenched tightly around your heated core, your other hand gripping onto one of Jungkook’s shivering thighs. You were really doing it. Feeling the weight of him on your tongue, pushing back and sucking him further down your throat. The rush of glee in your body was unavoidable.

You pulled through, opening your aching jaw further as you pumped more of him into your mouth, tongue fully stretched letting his mouth watering cock be embraced by the constricted walls of your throat. The instance he felt the effect of the depth of your throat, your nails plunging into the skin of his thighs for added intensity, Jungkook couldn’t keep himself down anymore. He heaved his clenching torso back up to a seated position at the sound of your gags. They resounded loud enough to drown his discombobulated mix of heavy sighs and groans, yet he wished he could swap the backdrop electronic music for the slippery and choked out sounds being emitted from your warm throat.

“Hey hey hey, slow down or I’m gonna cum in your mouth,” he said in a rushed voice as you relentlessly continued your attack on him, keeping your promise of using him.

When words didn’t seem to be getting to you, he attempted to yank your head back a bit but you stayed rooted, throat somehow engulfing him deeper as the strong command of his arm flattered against your ministrations and had him bucking his hips upwards. You choked on his length, landing a warning slap to his thigh which didn't seem to help other than encourage Jungkook’s inevitable descent into a whining mess. “Oh-h sh-it, fuck me.” His stuttering breaths along with the scent of him as your nose touched the base of his cock had you dizzy and dripping wet, nails scratching his skin meanwhile tears coated your hot cheeks. When you were done with him you were sure he would file an animal complaint report. You weren’t exactly trying very hard not to mark him.

Despite your aching throat and jaw, you resolved to take him deep one last time. But that seemed to be one last time too many as the hot exhale of Jungkook’s breaths further warmed your forehead and he buckled forward from the pleasure. His O-shaped mouth connected with the top of your head whilst he defiled your throat and mumbled curses through gritted teeth.

Your worn out mouth retracted to give place for your arms to do the finishing work. Before you could pick up the speed, Jungkook’s mouth found your abused lips, tongue probing your entrance to lap up at the excess saliva, sighing softly into the kiss. The hand in your hair kept you rooted in the racking of his teeth against your lips and for a second you thought of letting him use you too. That was until you gave him a small bite of your own and felt him twitch in your hand. Your other hand wrapped around his wrist to remove his hold on you as you tore your lips off of his just to stare at his hooded eyes.

“I’m supposed to be using you Jeon.” Your hands resumed their work on his cock, welcoming back the straining breaths of the godly man seated in front of you. He was leaning back on his arm as his other hand latched onto his sweaty hair, trying to anchor the sanity that threatened to leave him at the sight of you working on him so diligently. A sight that would remain ingrained in his mind for a very long time. You made sure of it. “Oh, I’m close,” he slurred.

You stuck your tongue out, “Woah really, you’re sure about it?” He might have sounded concerned but you could still manage to see the glint in his sweaty expression. He wanted it. So you played along, “Jungkook pleaseeee,” you whined head moving closer to his flushed cock. You left the rest to him, watching as his fingers fluttered around his length to form a strong hold as he pumped himself with your saliva past his edge. “A–A– Ahhh hmmm, oh fuck.” White warm stripes of salty cum landed on your tongue at the same time that you watched the satisfying decoration of tightly knitted brows, eyes shut tight and bottom lip caught between his teeth on his face following his hurried release.

You pushed your ass off your feet to stand back up and Jungkook met you, standing tall, hands as eager as ever as they wrapped around your form. You shivered at the graze of your nipples against his taut chest. Jungkook went on to leave even more marks on your skin, teeth grazing and nipping your flesh between the wet trail of soft kisses he made sure to leave before his mouth reached the sensitive shell of your ear. “Thank you,”he whispered and you almost laughed out loud but managed to keep under control. “I wasn’t doing you a favour, Jeon. I’ve wanted to suck your dick for a while now. So really, I should be the one saying thank you.”

Your hands traveled down his back as you placed your head in the crook of his neck to give him some of your own marks, except a lot less delicate which you could tell by the way he squeezed you tighter.

You let your arm travel in between your bodies to wrap around his neck as your other arm took it upon itself to get him ready for another round. The most important one. Your fingers played with the strong raven strands on his head earning approving hums from his broad chest. With calm strokes to his member you felt him hardening. But Jungkook also wanted his fun so with two hands of his own he undid the measly buttons of your pants. It was either he was somehow good at undoing buttons while pressed against someone or he just had a lot of experience, but Jungkook did not tear his eyes away from yours. You stroked him harder, pulling soft, strained yet compelling reactions from him, his hot breath fanning your face in the time that you felt the weight of his forehead against yours.

Addicted to the feeling of your hands on him, he let you fondle with him a bit longer instead choosing to play with the softness of your ass. His hands familiarised themselves with the strong curve of your cheeks and their strong jiggle potential when he grabbed a handful of your butt to pull you closer so he could grind on you. “Ohhh,” you sighed into yet another bite of his shoulder.

Jungkook kept grinding and you kept whining and sighing. By then you were sure you had soaked through your panties and down your thighs, something he wished to witness as his fingers hooked around your pants and pulled them all the way down. You were raring to keep stroking him. Honestly, you could have held his dick forever if asked to. It was heavy and hot against your palm, velvety skin dragging up and down with each movement of your hand. And with every particularly good stroke on your end it would give you a little reward twitch.

But Jungkook had other plans. He stood back up, hands sliding behind your thighs to heave you up, legs around his waist as he climbed onto the bed. He knelt on the mattress with your form still clinging to him and arranged the few pillows to his satisfaction. He tapped your thigh for you to let go and lay splattered on the bed, wet and needy pussy on display for him. You still had on your flimsy crop top, which he all but ripped off you.

“Hey!” You went in for a hit on his chest, which he blocked. “Not cool, this isn’t some sort of movie you know,” you pouted angrily at him to which he smiled back. He wondered how he didn’t not notice you at the rink before?

“I’ll buy you a new one.” He made small talk as he spread you further to stare at your dripping centre. “Who says we’re gonna meet again after this?”

Jungkook ran his fingers past your wet folds, coating himself in your want as he turned his eyes back at you to be met with the sight of your cheek. “All this juice says.” You heard a loud pop and tried to shield yourself but his thighs were in the way. “Oh, now you’re shy,” he huffed lightly as he held onto your ankles to push himself back enough to be at eye-level with the result of his alluring nature.

“Is it okay if I eat you out?” you didn’t know if he had intended his question to come out as soft as it did, like he really believed that you didn’t want his face between your thighs. “Jeon just get to it.”you acted detached. He shook his head at your feigned annoyance and grabbed a handful of your thighs, rooting himself close enough to your gaping hole that your folds tickled from his shallow breaths.

He bit his way past your clenched thigh and gave you one last squeeze, “What a pretty cunt.” One he dived right into, tongue lapping at the excess wetness with an excruciatingly slow lick . “Ahh, fuck.” You did your best to take a deep breath, one supposed to calm your jitters down but Jungkook wasn’t looking to give you mellow head. Harshly kneading the skin of your thighs, he buried his face deeper into your pussy, pointed tongue travelling past pooling juices to probe your entrance hard enough for your hands to bunch into fists hard that would leave crescent moons on your palms.

“Oh–My–God.” You moaned between rhythmless breaths. You squeezed your eyes, back arching off the bed when he licked you in a particularly hungry away only to graze his teeth lightly against your sensitive flesh. “You good up there?” You could feel his smile against your inner thighs. You shoved your heel into his side in retaliation. “Oh, aggressive in bed? Sexy” You propped yourself up on your elbows to give him a dumbfounded look as you motioned to him to keep it going. “Awww, you’re so mean to me darling.” His shiny lips formed a pout and you did your best not to react to what he had just called you. “Please,” you muttered for good measure. But Jungkook seemed like an easy person to please and an even bigger people pleaser so he got back to the task at hand.

While he had kept quiet for most of the time he was devouring your pussy, now with some kind of newfound confidence he hummed soft words of praise at every little twitch of your legs and buck of your hips and every soft gasp that left your lips. His eagerness fed off of your whining and tossing and he grew harder for every squeeze of your thighs he felt against his broad frame.

While Jungkook was satisfied with having you laid out for him, oozing your desires into his tongues for him to taste and praise, he wanted to see how far he could take you. Maybe it was just him and his competitive spirit or maybe it was his need to explore more of you, to add one more thing on his list of “who Y/N is” before you parted ways. Whatever it may have been, it made him bring his hand down to plunge a strong finger past your folds and into your welcoming heat. You yelped at the sensation, hands finally settling on Jungkook’s hair only for your hold to strengthen as he slipped the finger in and out.

“You like that darling?” You chose not to answer, you didn’t want to inflate his ego anymore as if he wasn’t able to make out the answer for himself, which he did when a second finger made an entrance and you whined at the delicious feeling of the slight stretch. “Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.” You flapped your foot against the mattress when he went back to attacking your centre with his tongue, flicking at your clit, landing fluttering kisses that have the knot in your stomach tighten further while his scissored you into a whining mess.

“I didn’t know I was about to fuck a fish.” He laughed as you felt the swipe of his tongue when he retracted from his kisses which set off the aim of your kick against his side. “Next time remind me to bring a tie or a few of them. Don’t get me wrong I appreciate the reaction but I don’t like to be disturbed while I am ravaging such a delightful pussy.” You wanted to abandon the daze Jungkook had induced within you, just for a second, enough to refute his idea of a second time, but the rushed addition of a third finger inside your wet walls shut you up. Jungkook pressed his digits with determination, alternating speeds to make a mockery out of your need for oxygen.

Things seemed to come in a duality for him. While he wished nothing more than to make a mess of you, and revel in the mix of gushing sounds from your cunt and pitched curses blessing his ears, he equally wanted to slide the softness of his cheeks against your thighs only to turn his head to cover you in ghostly kisses. He wanted you to feel everything, his fingers turning you into putty, his breaths fanning turning you even hotter, the dip of his other hand beyond your clenched stomach and past the valley of your chest as you held your breath long enough to exhale into the commanding squeeze of his tattooed fingers around your breast.

He went on, you screamed on. He fed himself off your cries and scratches on his scalp, slurping on the endless gush resulting from months’ worth of pent up horniness of your part.

You slapped Jungkook’s shoulder, hoping to bring him out of this endless exploration with his tongue. You were close. “Jungkook~,” you whined, head tossing side to side. He hummed against you, grabbing a fistful of your ass, somehow bringing you closer than you already felt. You were beyond controlling yourself, legs trembling at the combined attack of his nose against your clit, tongue curving as he soaked you up. ”There you go, come for me darling.”

He engulfed your bud around his lips and your hands retracted for your breasts, any semblance of normality and balance slipping from your fingers into Jungkook’s hair. “Jeo— oh god, fuc—yeah right...” You trailed off, words getting caught in your throat, back arching your feverish chest against the stale air of the room, hands clenching around his locks at the moment the compiled knot of your arousal snapped under Jungkook’s attentive care.

You tried to control your quivering legs and if it weren’t for Jungkook’s slow and steady ascent from the place between your legs to your lips, you might have shrieked at an alarming volume. You still shrieked but the same coated lips that brought about your orgasm, were placed on yours to bring you back down to your usual composure. You tasted yourself on his tongue. And you couldn’t control the twitch of your torso when his hand went to caress your back, pulling scorching skin against each other.

The light and docile dance of Jungkook’s fingers brought about a different demeanour in you. At least that was what you let yourself believe. You exhaled an amused deep breath in the crook of his neck as your high came to an end, “Fuck, you’re good at this.”

“Again, thank you,” he said calmly, yet you felt the slight thumping of his heart against your breast. It must be from vigorous exercise.

The both of you lay next to each other on your side for a moment, Jungkook’s arm draped over the dip of waist.

“Honestly, we could end here and I would be happy,” you said closing your eyes, letting your neck rest as your head slumped against his chest. A small laugh erupted from him.

“It’s you saying shit like that, that will make sure we don’t end here, at least not if I can do something about it.” He ran his hand along his neck and you truly believed in your soul to be staring at a Michelangelo painting. You ogled the way his arm stretched sideways to reveal the small bed of air in his armpit as his biceps bulged (whether he’s showing off or that was just your perception didn’t matter and you frankly didn't care).

His hairstyle was no longer present, hair completely out of his face and you imagined this was what he must look like when he wakes up, albeit less sweaty and red from all the scratches and marking. His face looked a lot softer, the fat on his cheek more prominent and the largeness of his eye more notable.

Maybe that was a bit harsh, but you would rather not have him text you during this specific weekend. You didn’t know what kind of texter he was, but if you based it off your only interaction, he seemed rather talkative.You just needed some time to let what just had happened and what would continue to happen sink in.

“Stop staring at me. It’s not helping your case for stopping here,” he said, blinking a couple of times to look past you. This Jungkook, who was in fact like all the versions of Jungkook you had seen during your pining months, had you feeling less intimidated enough for you to smile at his remark. The first proper smile he got to see. He wanted to comment on it but you spoke before.

“You wear glasses?”

“How do you know?” He asked back.

“I didn’t. I just noticed you blinking a lot so I guessed.”

“I wear lenses for the most part, but my eyes are quite dry. It’s usually not a problem. But I wasn’t trying to miss any of your reactions,” he winked

You huffed giving him an incredulous look. You wondered what he looks like with glasses on? Does he look hotter or cuter? You were about to continue building on your imagination when he decided that break time was over by pulling on your arm to have you laying on top of him where you could now feel his reenergized cock. You threw yet another look his way as if you weren’t mentally drooling at the thought of seeing him with glasses.

“I told you to stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re thinking about me. Thinking about me outside of this context.”

You were too childish to admit, so you did the first thing that comes to mind at the sight of his chest. You bit it.

“Ouch! You really want me to make you cry again huh?”

Deeming him distracted enough from the previous path your conversation was taking. You stretched your neck to his pierced ear. “I want you to fuck me now, Jeon.” If the shift of his gaze wasn’t proof enough of the sudden change in atmosphere. Then the contraction of his hands against your frame, as your heart triumphed at the feel of his cock hardening further against the edge of your thigh, made it clear.

“Hmm such a potty mouth,” he gave you a serene kiss, hands travelling deeper into the valley of your back. “Not even a small please.” He got a very deliberate feel of your ass while nipping at your collarbone.

Using both hands placed at the top of his V cut, you pushed yourself to a seated position on top of his hard dick, pulling an agitated groan from Jungkook’s lips. You ground your hips on top of him, wet pussy lips providing copious lubrication, “Please~," you moan, head hanging low. He bit his lip, hand colliding with your ass, “That’s more like it.”

The feel of him was more overwhelming than you had imagined and when Jungkook rooted his hands on your hips to guide you into a slower grind, your legs squeezed against him at the feel of his tip grazing your entrance. You threw him a side eye, fully aware of his teasing. But you didn’t mind it all too much, especially not when it felt so good. The kind of good that made you close eyes and munch on your bottom lip for fear of uttering something utterly stupid but very true like, “God, I could fuck you forever.”

“Huh, whatcha say?” Your eyes shot open to look at Jungkook’s distorted eyebrows above the eyes that were staring at the conjunction between your groins, lip still caught in his teeth. “Nothing,” you dismissed your unintended statement easily, diverting his attention to the current moment.

The hand that was splattered against his sweaty chest traveled to wrap around his fully erect penis as Jungkook hissed at your touch. “Oh fuck, you’re really gonna ride me?” You couldn’t help the prideful swell of your chest at his enthusiasm. Jungkook might have seemed intimidating but he definitely knew how to praise. At the rate he was going, you were one hundred percent sure you would be boasting about fucking him for the rest of the academic year.

You pushed against your knees, body relaxing thanks to the soft caresses Jungkook left on the sides of your thighs. Okay, you were really going to do it? Your heartbeat had skyrocketed, eight months of pining and imagining finally coming to an end. You were ready to sink onto his length.

“Wait! Condom.” He said pointing to the side of the bed where his discarded leather pants should be somewhere.

“Right,” you shook your head, coming back to your senses as you shuffled quickly off him and the bed to grab his pants.

“Nice ass,” he emitted a subtle sound of approval making you roll your eyes as you bent back up, pants in your hand. “Back pocket,” he instructed. You found exactly one condom. “I see you didn’t have too many plans of your own for tonight,” you said in what was supposed to be a light tone, but it came off far more judgemental. You managed a smile for good measure, climbing back up on top of him.

You teared off the packaging, unrolling the condom onto his cock which was wet with your want. A soft “oh” came from underneath you when you reached the base of his dick. Jungkook’s look had somehow become even more intense, he stared as your fingers traveled to hold his shaft, positioning yourself above it. While you tried to make it subtle, he noticed the small breaths you took apprehensively before sinking his member into your wet warmth.

You both sighed, you delighted by the thought-erasing stretch of Jungkook’s throbbing length as he ended up fully sheathed in you, and him simultaneously entranced by the tightness of your walls and the sight of you on top of him. Jungkook might not have known you before now, but he was sure he wouldn’t ever forget you. In fact, he doesn’t.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love a good cockwarming but it would be a waste if I com—,” you shifted your hips a bit “before I got a good dicking in.”

“Jeon, shut up. I need to adjust okay.”

Jungkook was about to open his mouth to boast, you were sure of it so you slapped your palm down on his mouth. You thought you heard him mumble something along the lines of “kinky” as crinkles showed up besides his eyes.

You took yet another deep breath, moaning at the slow drag of his veiny cock against your pussy as you slid up, tip almost leaving your core only to slide back down, a small shriek emitting from your throat on the fast descent. Jungkook’s hands left your sides to remove your hands from his chest so he could lift his torso to a seated position. You gave him a quizzical look. “I just want to be able to kiss you,” he pushed the two of you closer to the headboard, back leaning lazily against the surface, “if I want to, which I will,” he felt the need to add.

So you plunged forward, smashing your lips against his, his head almost hitting the headboard. Arms coming around to rest behind his neck, you picked up the speed as the slapping sounds of your ass against his thighs filled your space. “Ohhhh god,” you sighed against his shoulder. The room was brimming with gushing sounds, Jungkook’s cock ramming into yours between never-ending gasps and groans, and ongoing praise from Jungkook’s end telling you how good your pussy felt, how good you were to him. “Fuck, do you hear how wet you’re for me?”

You stuttered, hands slipping against the headboard when his hips thrusted to meet yours, “Fu-ff-fuck.” You were unsure if you were gonna be able to formulate any coherent words until you came. Ever the ass man Jungkook’s hands spread over your rear flesh guiding you up and down his rigid shaft as he pleased, tethering on the edge between teasing and pleasuring you, further torturing you and himself.

But he couldn’t help it, not when you were whispering sweet nothings into his ears, biting his shoulders, scratching his back, mewling and squealing at the feel of him hitting your deepest spot. So Jungkook repeated it as many times as he saw fit, pulling himself out only to slam back into you, feeling your stature tense around his strong arms as you teeth latched on to the skin of his collarbone.

Jungkook kept bouncing you on his cock, mouth extending towards your neglecting mounds, as he placed his hot mouth against it, sending tingles down your spine which made you grind against him. He lapped at the skin, tongue toying with your nipples, further guiding you up and down his dick with his strong hands. You held onto his forearm for balance, crying out into the air. “Ahhh fuck, please Jeon, fuck me more.”

You were actually not making sense. How exactly was he supposed to fuck you more? You didn’t know but Jungkook made it known that he was the man. He held you still and steady above him and began his assault on your sensitive cunt. He bucked into your hips with a relentless speed that had your breast bouncing in his face, to his delight. Your thighs were burning, knees ready to give up as you screamed shamelessly.

Jungkook hissed as he felt your pussy tighten around him, milking the come out of him. He didn’t know how much longer he could last. You sighed deeper into his thrusts when he spanked your ass shooting pleasure straight to your tightening core as you did your best to restrain your oncoming orgasm. You wanted it to last forever.

You decided to start moving again, meeting his thrusts halfway, intensifying the effect as Jungkook’s arms wrapped around you, a hand anchoring itself at the back of your neck as he stared into your fucked out expression. You were sweaty, eyelids down but squeezed, mouth open, jaw slack and Jungkook couldn’t stop himself from kissing you. He pulled you down by your neck, lips rubbing against each other. You managed to kiss for short bursts of time frequently separating, mouths agape to gasp and moan at the feeling of each other, feeling yourselves close to coming.

Your hand moved to cup Jungkook’s cheek before you tilted his head back with a gentle hair grab, “Jungkook, make me come,” you said before kissing up his jaw. The fact that you had called him by his first name for the first time was not lost on him and he couldn't control the wide smile that spread on his lips. “Anything for you darling,” he kissed into your neck.

Suddenly, reenergized Jungkook jolted his hips forward, stronger than before, digging deep into your soaked core as he marked your shoulder. His thighs pushed against your own, spreading you wider, no barrier in sight as his hand found your clit, which he rubbed in quick circles as he continued to roll his hips into yours, dick straining against the increased tightness. “Shit, you’re so fucking tight.”

It was when Jungkook started to piston into you that you felt your body slowly lose itself. The knot in your stomach coiling, ready to snap, thighs trembling from being held in place. “Jungkook, I’m gonna come,” you whimpered.

He didn't think he would ever get tired of you calling his name. “Come for me darling. Cream on my cock,” he demanded, hand digging into your ass as he continued rubbing your clit. A few more thrusts came along before you choked, body rigid as the coil in you snapped, and you gushed on Jungkook’s dick to his big pleasure. Your entire body quivering under his soothing caresses. You stayed in place, moaning when Jungkook swiped his hand past your pussy lips so he could have a taste. He hummed, fingers in his mouth, “You’re delicious darling.” You smiled too tired to give him any ounce of attitude.

But you were not done yet, so you pulled through letting your raw cunt sink back down on Jungkook’s cock. You started moving to his enjoyment. You were sensitive so you went slow, but that didn't seem to have any less of an effect on Jungkook who huffed in between breaths, trying to enjoy as much of you before he came. You leaned into him, lips biting and licking his earlobe, “Can you come for me baby?”

Were you playing dirty? Yes. But honestly you didn't know how much longer Jungkook could hold and you were sensitive, so you played on his apparent weakness, he liked to please and you liked to be pleased. On top of that his pulsating dick made it known that he liked the term of endearment. “Ohh god, please call me baby again,” he grunted.

“Will you come then?”

“Fuck yeah.”

With a couple more strokes in the bag, a tensed Jungkook under you, you raked your fingernails down his back, kissing up his shoulder to the junction between his shoulder and neck where you placed a light bite before licking your way up to his ear. “Baby,” you kissed the contour of his ear, “Jungkook, come in me baby,” you mewled, dropping down onto his shaft.

You gasped at the strong grasp Jungkook had on your hips as he grunted, hips stuttering into you. His hot breath heated your chest while his strong arms abused your skin and he kept mumbling curses under his breath with his eyes screwed shut. “Oh shit, ugh, fuck ahhh, you’re….” He trailed off, speech rolling into sighs as he ran a hand down his face.

“I am ?,” you inquired.

“The best I’ve ever had,” he said hugging you. He wanted to say something else, but he doubted either of you were ready to deal with what it could possibly entail.

You got off of his lap to lay on the bed, exhausted but fully satisfied. After all, the eight month long pining was worth it.. You couldn’t wait to scream to Kyra about this. You could genuinely go the remaining of the year being celibate, that’s how satiated you felt.

Jungkook poked your side, bringing you back from your thoughts, “About that offer, I am up for it if you are,” he probed in a weary tone.

“What offer?”

“I mean I didn’t hear you too clearly, but I’m pretty sure you said something about being able to fuck me forever.”

You stayed silent. After all you didn’t know what kind of offer that involves sex he was making. The committed or uncommitted kind?

“I just thought, ya know, we’re pretty compatible so we could scratch each other’s back once in a while.”

“Are you talking about being friends with benefits?”

“Yeah! That.” He turned to his side to gauge your reaction, “ Only if you want of course! Otherwise forget I asked.”

You thought back to what Kyra said. There’s more to the male species than Jeon Jungkook. But honestly after the fuck you had just had, you were quite content with deluding yourself for a couple of months, or however long the arrangement could last.

You satt up on the edge of the bed, “Yeah, sure. I don’t mind.”

“Oh! Okay, uhm cool then,” he said, sounding both surprised and enthusiastic.

You were dirty but you still put your clothes back on, stealing Jungkook’s t-shirt. “I’m taking this cause you tore my top off.” It was too big for you, but it smelled nice, like him. Maybe it could cover up the sex stench you had on.

“I would say I’m sorry, but I’m not .” He scratched the back of his head. You flip him off which made him chuckle.

You were fully clothed, shoes on, ready to exit the room. Jungkook was sporting his outfit too without the t-shirt and he totally resembled an exotic male dancer. You tore your eyes off his body before you started thinking things, turning around and reaching for the door handle.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Hmm.”

“Your phone number?”

“Monday at Ms Diane’s after your shift,” you blurted out before leaving the room in a rush.

You kept your promise and stopped by at Diane’s Rink for a quick greeting and a recital of your phone number. You wanted to stay longer, and had you asked Jungkook if it was okay with him, he would have rolled past and around you with an affirming smirk.

After that you turned your text notifications back on. What followed was three days of losing your composure at the slight sound of a bling coming from your phone. Maybe you had overestimated Jungkook’s forwardness. It wasn’t until you bumped into him and his friend at the university’s lunch space a couple of days later that you got to see him again. The two of you were in different departments so you rarely had class in the same buildings.

You ate in silence, eyes focused on the word dense pages of Jack Kerouac’s “On the Road”, so much the words jumbled together and you slammed the book shut, sighing into yet another bite of your bland chicken sandwich. You snuck another look at his table and he looked fine. You hadn’t expected him to look any different really but you thought maybe he had noticed you too. Sure you looked a lot less eye-catching than what you did at the party but one would be able to recognise someone they fucked not so long ago. Worse of it all, he had asked you and you were the one losing your mind over it.

Appetite gone, you picked up your belongings and your small pile of trash, throwing the waste in the bin not far from his table. You had chosen to act on the hurt and growing anger inside of you, pulling out your phone to text him a petty, “Nice to see you too asshole 🖕”.

You hadn’t even cared that you were blowing your cover, revealing that you were in fact already in possession of his number, further adding to your desperation. You stood back for a few moments but out of sight just to see his reaction. Jungkook had retrieved his phone from his pocket, taking a quick look at his screen before hastily lifting his head to look at the table where you had been sitting. So he saw….

You could have left unnoticed but you were already on your dramatic streak so you chose to storm out of the hall, passing by his apprehensive eyes. If only you had turned around just for a split second, enough to decipher the pleased expression on his face, you would have in fact known that Jungkook was quite happy to know that wanted it just as much as him. He considered that a needed affirmation for him to move forward, speeding past the green light.

It wasn’t long Jungkook grabbed hold of you after your “Literary and Cultural Theory” class.

“Hey! Slow down, I’m about to drop my books,” you had alarmed him shuffling hastily behind his combat boots and he couldn’t have shown you that he gave any less of a shit when he instead quickened his stride.

It wasn’t long before you were dragged into the cramped confinement of his car. Books, bags and clothes in the front seats while an eager Jungkook and a confused you took refuge in the back seat. You shivered against the cool fabric of the seat as Jungkook’s chest warmed you up from above as he huffed and puffed beside your ear for every pointed thrust he landed deep within your gushing core. You had tried and failed at keeping your voice down. You stared out of the window attempting to calm your breathing by synchronising it with the lazy fall of browned tree leafs.

You had accomplished a couple of firsts in that moment, First time having car sex (which wasn’t as hot as you thought it would be but Jungkook made up for it), and dabbling in slight exhibitionism behind Jungkook’s tinted back seat windows (which surprisingly left you more horny than expected).

“Ready to get started with this darling?” He asked, sweating skin leaving yours as his softening cock left your entrance earning a gasp from your side of the car.

“A head’s up would have been nice.” Your hand searched the front seat for your panties.

“But isn’t that the fun part?” He snapped his condom shut. “Plus it’s not like I, or even you can control when you feel like doing it.”

You were ready to refute his reasoning but he made a point and you held your tongue.

“Fine, but don’t abuse your fuck n’ go rights or I’ll get stingy. I don’t have your stamina Jeon.” You tore your head to the side after putting on your t-shirt to look at him, eyes demanding him to say he’ll behave.

“Okay, okay, sure I’ll try.”

That was the first big lie he had told you.

Since then, the thrill that came with getting regular dick in unexpected places never ceased and as you’re now watching Jungkook tear the rink apart with his calculated moves and pristine performance on shiny black roller skates, you know exactly how you would like your next appointment to be.

Despite having been fuck buddies for over three months, the prospect of Jungkook roleplaying in his work uniform never had been a reality. You think it’s about time you change that.

The air in the rink is fiery in spite of the cool winter air outside, people cram together at the edge of the rink to watch the contestants. After an unexpected turn of events, the annual “Disco Craze” roller skating contest had been short of one judge. Miss Diane hurried to find a replacement in the crowd. Of course you had jumped at the opportunity, after all you had arrived too late to the rink to get a good spot to watch the competition. Maybe it was your enthusiasm or your familiar face but to your delight you got picked.

This year’s contestants are far better than last year and both as a judge and a friend you’re fearing for Jungkook’s current winning streak. However, that’s a fear he doesn’t seem to share. Not with the way he glides smoothly to the beat of “I Don't Feel Like Dancin'” by Scissor Sisters. He soaks in the cheering crowd, spot rexing with a goofy smile on your face.

This is probably the first time you really get to see Jungkook roller skate, you knew he was good, everyone had told you, just not that he was this good.

His happiness while he scissors across the rink is contagious. He mouths the lyrics towards the crowd and unlike the song title, you see the soft sway of bodies moving to the beat. You’re left smiling before you know it, foot tapping along. He does a quick jump into a spin, before he speeds towards the judge’s table only to stop abruptly as he body rolls backwards. You shake your head, feeling more aware of the tactics Jungkook must have employed throughout the years to win. His number is over before you know it.

There are a total of eleven contestants. But from what you’ve seen it’s between Jungkook and a girl who performed a great number to Gloria Gaynor’s “I Will Survive”. During the intermission to allow the public to cast their vote, you shuffle away to buy some kit kats at the little snack shop beside the handoff counter for the roller skates.

You finish one pack and buy a second which Jungkook snatches from your hands when he joins you.

“Thank you,” he sticks out his tongue at you before ripping the red packaging and biting into your kit kat.

“You’re gonna pay for that,” you sneer.

“Oooo I’m so scared.” He laughs a bit too loud, giving you a full view of his kit kat filled mouth. Sometimes you really want to hit him upside the head. “Sooo, what did you think?”

“About what?”

“My skating, duh! I’m pretty good, right?” He lifts an eyebrow cocking his head as he goes in for another aggressive bite of your kit kat.

“Meh, it was okay,” you say, walking away from the shop counter to sit by one of the benches near the rink.

“Okay!?”

“Yeah, just okay Jeon, The girl, uhm, what’s her number?” You know her number. “You know, the one with the yellow skates, she could totally beat you.”

You’re partially trying to mess with him but you’re also being honest. Her performance really was that good. “Pfft, whatever. I know I have loyal fans.” He sits down besides you and leans against the wall. “Sure, you do,” you mumble.

With one bar of the kit kat left, he extends the package to you and says, “As long as you don’t vote for her I’ll forgive your hurtful words.”

You take it, because it’s a kit kat, you would never say no. “Bribing judges Jeon, huh? What other tricks apart from this and those body rolls do you have up your sleeve?” You munch on the bar.

“Tricks that will make you cry if you don’t vote for me darling,” he says loud enough for only you to hear. He brings his hand onto your thigh, running upwards close enough to where he could cup your cunt with his big palm making your breath hitch, but he just squeezes your thigh and lifts himself off the bench to return to the rink. You swallow the leftover chunks of kit kat in your mouth before you end up choking, throw the package in the bin and walk away, trying to act as unbothered as Jungkook.

Miss Diane’s voice booms through the speaker letting everyone know that the intermission is over and the votes have been counted. Having judges at this contest is more so for an official feel, for the most part the judges never needed to vote. The results from the public’s vote were usually quite decisive, even if a judge’s vote equalled ten times the single vote a person from the public got.

As it looks now, it is 84-64 to the girl with yellow skates. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Jungkook so unhappy, not even after he had lost points for a minor mistake when calculating his error on an experiment for a chemistry paper. He looks at you once he feels your gaze, his eyes reinforcing the little chat you had earlier.

It’s time for the judges to cast their vote. Mr. Ludwig, the owner of a café just a few blocks away, votes, to your surprise, for Jungkook. And as expected so does Miss Diane. It’s a tie.

Ten decisive points.

Your points to give.

Jungkook is staring at you, she isn’t. Jungkook likes to take your things from you, she doesn’t even know you. Jungkook threatens you, she has never even talked to you. But most importantly Jungkook is good at skating, he did really well but Miss “Yellow Skates” was better.

Mind set on who you’re voting for. Your arm lifts up her number. Number seven.

Jungkook lowers his heads, chuckling lightly into his chest before he looks up and congratulates the winner, clapping along with the crowd. He skates off the rink to let her perform her winning number once again. You’re still seated by the judge’s table before thumping steps grow louder coming towards you. Just like the time he pulled you away for your first quickie in his car, he yanks you off the seat, gently enough not to bring about anyone’s attention but strong enough for you to feel the nature of your current predicament.

“You’re so fucked,” he growls pushing in the direction of the staff room.

“I know,” you can’t help but giggle. Ultimately this was the perfect opportunity. You fulfil your fantasy of fucking him in his embellished uniform and you also get to make sure someone who’s better than him wins. Two birds, one stone. You don’t think you’ve ever been this effective.

Jungkook slams the door to the room shut, but doesn’t lock it. He drags you towards the door of the bathroom stalls. “Ehh, you sure about that Jeon?”

He pushes you along from behind, hand on your back, “Don’t worry, it’s clean,” he says softly before closing the door to the small stall to whisper into shoulder, “Unlike what you’re gonna be when I’m done with you.”

Jungkook’s naked arms wrap around your torso, hands landing on your hardened nipples over the fabric of your turtleneck as his mouth nips at the back of your neck. “I warned you darling.” You moan, ass rubbing against his groin enough to elicit a groan. “I won’t stop until you’re crying.” He wraps a hand around neck, right hand smoothly undoing your jeans as his hand dances on top of your skin, down your needy core and past your wet lips.

He does this as many times as he pleases. This isn’t about you. It’s about him using you. He follows the sway of your hips giving into your chase for his fingers, dipping into your heat, slowly. He starts with a finger, swirling it around, humming at the satisfying feel of you being so wet and ready for him. He squeezes your throat in approval. When he feels you clench at that he goes on to add a second finger. “Ugh, Jeon faster, please.”

Does he like how politely you’re being? Yes. But you know what else would have been polite? You voting for him. “Oh no, I don’t think so darling.” He adds a third finger and your back stutters against his broad chest, head thrown back against his shoulder. “You like that?” You nod your head, lips caught in between your teeth to repress your moans. “Then let me hear you darling.” You bite down harder on your lips.

Now with three fingers deep in you, stretching your cunt as your juices slide down his digits he picks up his speed. He keeps his strokes irregular, he never wants you to know what's coming. In and out unlike your breaths. You have resorted to shallow breathing, head turning for you to bury your nose into Jungkook’s veiny neck, as he makes a mockery out of you. He gives you a momentary break, stuffing his mouth with his fingers, “Oh yeah, desperation is a good taste on you.” He hums reaching his fingers towards your mouth which you open to taste yourself, whining at the back of your throat. “My darling is such a good girl,” he says biting your earlobe.

The hand that was on your throat, moves to roll your jeans past your thighs and past your knees.

“Do you even have a condom?” You croak as a chill runs down your leg from the cold air.

“What kind of question is that? When is that I’m never prepared?” He says, foot coming between yours to spread your legs. “I had planned for a sweet and gentle celebratory fuck after the competition, but you’re you and now we’re here.” You purr through your shivers when he runs his hands on the inside of your thighs, grazing your pussy before the pads of his fingers knead your ass.

Frankly you’re a bit glad to have escaped his initial plan. Having sweet sex with Jungkook was never your forté, while he could switch easily between his rough and gentle personas, you were never able to act normal when faced with the dulcet tones of his praises and the soothing touches of his body against yours. With a clenched and curved back, feet planted against the mattress for leverage, he would ram slowly but firmly, head secured in the depth of your collarbones as his cock reached the depth of you, making you quaver beneath him. On occasions like that, you never stuck around for too long after you were done. Jungkook had a habit of asking if you had enjoyed the act as if he wasn’t the one on top of you appeasing your frantic high and kissing throaty moans away.

No, you preferred this, when he grabs your roughly by your rear, landing a few spanks that have your arms reaching for the walls of the stall to steady yourself as he grunts at how much wetter you’re becoming. Or at least you could deal with it better.

“Bend over for me darling.”

You bend over instantly when Jungkook’s arms leave your upper body, hands landing on the lid of the toilet to catch yourself. You had found yourself in this position before, and you had cried the most in all of those moments. But you had never been standing. Not to predict the future, but you’re sure Jungkook will have to carry you into an orgasm, unless he wants you to kneel on all four on the floor.

Jungkook runs his drenched index down your spine, hand lifting back for another spank. “Ah!” And another to reprimand your scream, “Keep your voice down, unless you want us to be found out,” he smirks behind you, hand cupping your heat only to dip a finger into you without warning.

“Ohhh, shit,” you slur, fingers raking the surface of the lid. Jungkook shows no sign of being gentle, fingers abusing your pussy, driving in and out of you at an alarming speed.

When his digits curl inside of you right before a slow exit you clamp your hand around your mouth for fear of being too loud. Despite that, your soft cries are still audible to him making him smile before he resumes his explosive fingering. “I don’t think I could ever get tired of this sound,” He says, bringing his other hand under your stomach to probe your swollen and neglected clit.

While the hastened pace of his fingers continue within you making you clench around the protrusion, Jungkook adopts a mellow pace to his massaging of your clit. The dual attack leaves you conflicted, unsure which way to rock your hips. “Arghhh,” you bite in your upper arm, clenching again around his digits. “Aww, my darling wants to come,” he coos. You rock your hips back in response.

“Oh, but then you should have voted for me, don’t you think?” You almost cry at the loss of contact, when your cunt is left empty and gapping.

You see him take a small step back to lean against the door of the stall. You exhale, still bend over, legs buckling when your thighs meet in a futile effort to relieve some tension. “You good there?” You can hear the amusement in his voice, but you find this far from funny.

“Jeon, please,” you say in a low, weak voice.

Ever since the first time he fucked you, Jungkook has always enjoyed toying with you, both outside and inside the bedroom. Whether it was borrowing (re: stealing) your favourite pens or taking a bite and in worse case scenario a whole portion of whatever it’s you’re eating. But nothing had ever topped this. Having you desperate to reach your orgasm and yet denying you that pleasure was a big favourite of his. He’s sure he could easily get himself off right now, ripping his condom off at the right moment just for him to decorate the smooth roundness of your ass with warm white stripes.

“Jeon.” He might have chosen to make you come had you called him Jungkook instead. But you’re you and he’s enjoying himself so he stays put.

“For old times sake, I think you should use me if you want to come so bad,” he says nonchalantly.

“Really, Jeon?”

“As real as you not voting for me, yes.” You shake your head. Jungkook’s competitive streak usually worked to your advantage. You enjoyed telling him how you doubt he could do something just to have him do it to you. It was just like asking, without the actual asking. You might have been able to pull something similar for his fingering skills but you’re both well aware of how many times the pounding from his rough digits has made you come.

Your hands push against the lid of the toilet, your frame wobbles a bit once you’re standing up straight and you can hear Jungkook’s giggly response. You turn around, slowly, to face his slightly red face and the very prominent bulge in his pants. He follows your eyes.

“Don’t worry about me,” he says readjusting his pants but only making the matter worse, “I can wait.”

You lift your head, step closer to him so you can catch a hold of the wrist below his wet hand. “Three,” you say, eyes travelling down his face to his parted lips. Adjusting your stance, you guide his three flexed out digits towards your dripping entrance. “Kiss me.”

While he likes toying with you, Jungkook is rather obedient especially when it advantages him. So he drops his head, hair tickling your nose, before his lips settle on yours. In that moment, you drive his fingers past your drenched nether lips as you moan into his kiss.

You’re convinced Jungkook’s dick is feeling a bit uncared for despite his reassurance. Doing your best to fuck yourself on his fingers, your hand gets occupied with palming his hard member. You’re totally only focusing on pleasuring yourself so much he cups the hand you have his cock and reinforces your grip and kneading. He hums into your kiss, satisfied and probably leaking in his boxers.

You suddenly let go of his reddened lips when he spreads his digits inside of you, the pads of his fingers grazing your walls, making you whine into his neck. You slow down your pace, feeling how close you are, “Jun– oh fuck, yeah right there.” His pace quickens once he registers the tremors in your legs. Fingers plunging deeper into your leaking pussy. Both hands free, you engulf Jungkook’s stature, holding on as his other hand grabs a strong hold of your cheeks to plant a harsh kiss on your lips.

He spreads his fingers and jams them in and out of you, He whispers for you to come on him, to let him hear you exhale choked breaths for him to remember tonight when he’s jerking off to the thought of you. You do just that.

Your chest heaves, fingernails digging into his back, face hiding from Jungkook’s protruding eyes as the tension in your core ruptures and your legs go slack. “Oh god, fuck me.”

“All in due time darling,” he answers back, hand running down your back.

“I meant to say fuck you, Jeon.” You manage to croak out once you’re sure you’ve reached the complete end of your orgasm.

Your hands loosen around his back and you step back, head turning down to stare at the slick on your inner thighs. “Surprised?” He inquires.

“No. Not exactly,” your head lift, “you’ve have probably ruined sex for me with other people for a while.”

Jungkook might have taken your statement as a compliment dick twitching in response, but you were in all honesty a bit horrified at the thought. How long is a while? This can’t last forever, can it ?

“Let’s take care of that since I’m feeling apologetic.” You point at his bulge. Your hands wrap around the neon green belt on his pants undoing it and slowly releasing his strained cock. It still looked as deliciously curved, bloodshot and veiny against his stomach as the last time you saw it, which was a mere two days ago at his dorm.

You’re about to lower yourself onto unstable knees, “Uh-uh, some other time,” he says turning you around and bending you over again. What can he say? He really enjoyed the view of your ass, “Right now, I want to feel your pussy around me.”

When Jungkook hastily eases the throbbing length into your wet core without warning, you deduce that he’s still a bit angered about your vote. Anger that seems to dissipate once he’s fully rooted in you. “Oh this is the best feeling in the world,” he moans from above you.

He isn’t looking for a sweet fuck today and directly resorts to slamming into you, making your hands slide against the lid off the toilet. You moan, tossing your head back when the hands on your ass knead the flesh and spread your cheeks for him to continue his eager ramming. When you’re already clenching, pulling jagged groans from Jungkook’s throat, you know you won’t last long.

“Hey, careful there,” he coos at you, lifting you up to place your hands on the tank of the toilet. “Wouldn’t want you to hit your head. That’s not how I want to make you cry.” He slows down his strokes enough to allow you to steady your grip on the tank and then resumes sinking down into you at his rushed speed.

The force with which he pistons into you is enough to have your legs hitting against the edge of the seat, as your fingers fumble to keep you stable accidentally flushing the toilet once in a while. Jungkook fucks and spanks you to his heart’s desire. “Look how good you’re to me,” he praises, hand pinching your nipple before constricting the movement of your breath. “Jungko–” He rams into you. He loves taking your breath away mid-moan. “Fuck, why are you so big?” You mewl, eyes watering as he repeatedly removes himself from your depths only to slam back in.

Jungkook feels your pussy clench around him, slowly milking him dry, getting him closer to his own orgasm. So he reaches down, arms wrapping around your torso, hands on your mounds as he pulls your back against his chest. “Can you spread your legs a little for me darling?” He asks softly and you comply. Whatever he chooses to ask right now you’re sure you will comply. You moan when you feel him deeper.

“You like the way my cock feels in you?”

“Yes,” you whimper. “You fill me up so good.”

Jungkook can’t help the chuckle that escapes him, “I don’t think you’ve ever complimented my dick this much.” He bites your shoulder, hips bucking harsly against yours, “My darling is that desperate?” You shake your head against his shoulder, biting into your bottom lip.

You might be chasing your own orgasm, but despite that you’re being truthful. Jungkook has the best dick you’ve ever ridden. He knows the places that make you lose it, and he can reach them. He takes care of you even when he’s toying with you. You’ve never been left unsatisfied or hurt. Honestly, he’s a great fuck buddy. Also he’s just Jungkook.

“What are you thinking about?” He asks through gritted teeth.

“You.”

It slips out of you and you can’t take it back, not when you’re sure he heard it so clearly. Jungkook stills at the sound of your confession and you finally get to take a deep breath.

Your eyes might be screwed shut but you’re certain of the look on Jungkook’s eyes as he peers down at your head thrown back above his shoulder. It’s the same look he has been giving you more and more often lately. A look you had been trying to avoid. It didn’t feel like he was just looking at you, but inside you. Or more so looking for something inside of you.

You manage a couple of breaths before Jungkook proceeds his strokes with an even greater ferocity than before. “Ah–a–ah,” you choke out as your hands cup his hands that are firmly planted around your breasts. The sound of Jungkook’s hips slapping against your ass fills the confined stall and you release a cry each time he gains leverage leaving your walls battered and full.

He doesn’t stop. He keeps going murmuring the occasional “Mine” into the air with furrowed eyebrows as you clench harder around him. His throbbing member slides into you, fully sheathed within your warmth. Once, twice, thrice. Enough times to make you dizzy and lose count. And with each slap of ass against hips you offer a guttural moan, eyes tearing up, legs trembling.

“Jeo– I’m cl–oh fuck, so close.”

Jungkook's warm finger caresses your pussy. “ I know darling.” His palm kneads into your clit, the overwhelming stimulation makes you choke down a sob. “Just let go, I’m here,” he whispers, nose buried against your cheek.

A few more calculated strokes from Jungkook’s hips has him buried deep in your seeping cunt, sloppy thumps surrounding your combined moans and groans. Maybe it’s the way Jungkook’s left hand caresses the breast over your heart, or the cushioned kisses he places against your jaw or the way he lets himself go right before you come. Or maybe it’s all of those things that make you cream on his cock, juices gushing down your thighs and onto him as he kisses you deeply, tongue wrapping around yours to catch your moans, teeth pulling on your lips the same way you pull at his heartstrings. Only when you’re gasping for air does his lips let go of yours.

“You good?”

“Yeah, all good” you sigh.

“Come on, look at me?”

You do your best to remove any trace of tear streaks as fast as possible, removing your face from the crook of his neck.

Jungkook still sees, “I am that good, huh?”

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes.

“You’re such a cry baby,” he teases and you can’t refute, he gives your cheek a peck, “and I kinda love it.”

You’re really not a cry baby. Jungkook’s stroke game is just that good. No matter how diluted your conscience is you could never deny his claim. The state in which you’re left is proof enough.

Jungkook slips out of you, soft cock against sensitive walls. He uses what’s at his disposal and rips off some toilet paper to clean the combined result of your yearning between your legs. It takes a couple of toilet strips to get the job done.

“Thanks,” you mumble when he’s done, flushing the used paper.

“No problem, darling.” He lifts your pants back up, reaching for your discarded top as well. “I can be the caring type you know.”

With a scoff leaving your chest you pluck your t-shirt off of his hands, “No need to convince me, Jeon.”

You really didn’t need convincing. Jeon Jungkook is a reasonable guy. He is a friend you can count on, ambitious when it comes to his studies, smart enough to do double majors (if he had made the choice), good-looking even in the most unflattering circumstances, a champ in bed and sometimes too sweet for his and your own good.

You had gotten to know all these sides of him with time, some of which came to your knowledge involuntarily, like how he always has a packet of kit kats stashed away for you for whenever you come over to hang and occasionally study before you fuck. The same way you had found yourself reaching for a softer scented detergent after you found out from one of his roommates that he isn’t fond of strong fragrances.

You had both picked up clues about each other, whether it was voluntary or involuntary.

And, yes maybe he’s more than reasonable, he’s quite great actually. But Kyra thinks you deserve greater. You don’t know how much you agree with her. But you do acknowledge the fact that Jungkook has been the only one you’ve done whatever this is with. You don’t have much to compare him to, except for the occasional rendezvous you would have back home with men you met on tinder. Maybe you need to explore some more?

“Ah, I think I still need to convince you some more,” he says to your back after ruffling back into his pants.

You turn around to face that look you dread. “Whatever floats your boat.” You rush to open the stall’s door, hurried breath brushing against Jungkook’s neck as you storm out towards the sink. You wash your hands to keep yourself from looking at him where he stands against the door frame, styled hair grazing his still flushed cheeks.

Jungkook joins you to wash his own hands. You dry yourself, letting the hot air from the hand dryer drown out the silence. With one final look at the mirror you attempt to look presentable and composed. Jungkook flicks water at you. You throw him a warning look. He does it again.

“Jeon, stop it.” You take a paper towel to dab yourself dry. He does it again.

You exhale a slow breath, ”It’s really not funny and it’s a waste of water.”

But in true Jungkook fashion he gives it another go. “Jungkook!” You shriek making him crack a scrunched up smile.

He keeps at it until you crack a smile of your own in defeat. “See, eventually you always come around,” he says and you’re confused. He has been throwing a lot of these weird statements at you lately.

“Okay…. but for now I’m gonna leave before you start annoying me again.”

You walk towards the door, a cool hand touching the cool handle. “You know you can be in my boat too right?” Your step staggers. “It won’t sink or anything, we could both float in it.”

You chuckle, “Be patient Jeon”. Maybe Kyra isn’t right for once. You close your eyes into a stabilizing breath. “I planned on crying some more so I can be sure it will keep floating even with me on it,” you say to the door before walking out.

Jungkook might have lost the competition, but he won something far better. Your reassurance.

It’s with a triumphant smile and a bounce to his step that Jungkook exits the staff room and heads back to skate with part of the public that’s now in the rink. His eyes search for your whereabouts only to land on your hand closing around another kit kat. You’re always consistent with the things and people you like he thinks with a smirk on his face.

“That’s my cry baby.”

thank you for reading my fic, i hope you enjoyed it 🥺 any feedback or comment is welcomed !!

#jeon jungkook #jungkook #btsfanfic #ficswithluv #bangtanhq #bts #jungkook fanfction #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #bts fanfiction #bts smut #bts fluff #namgee #I AM FINALLY DONEEEE

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fanficwritersinterviewed · 2 years

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MCM, willowcrowned

<<This post is a part of a longer conversation about fanfic writers, how they view fanfic, and their writing process. All views are the fanfic writers’ own, and whatever fanfic they choose to write is entirely their own decision. No judgment value will be placed on fic content. These conversations are meant to provide insight for other fanfic writers in whatever stage they are at in their writing life>>

Meet-Cute Monday (with willowcrowned, @willowcrowned )

AO3 Stats:

Pseud: willowcrowned Pronouns: she/her How many total fic: 58 How many fandoms: 12 Total word count: 308,663 Long fic word count: 45,632 Shortest fic: 417 Highest kudo count: 1517 Lowest: 9

And what's the story behind your pseud? The short answer is that I like trees and crowns. The longer and much nerdier answer is that I had Tolkien’s stuff about willows on my mind while I was trying to come up with a pseud that didn't have my name in it. Also, I like crowns.

How long have you been reading and writing fanfic? I've been reading fic for about eight years. I've been writing fic for just as long, though my first attempts belong thoroughly in the tweenage slush pile of 'well, it shows promise. kind of. maybe. if we're being generous.’

And was that under a different pseud or have you been monogamous with this one this whole time? HA. Totally different pseud. I've gone by, oh, four now? It wasn't even on AO3, either, which is a major relief. Also loving the phrasing here. Yes I DID cheat on my last pseud. Don't tell it though—I don't want to be the one to serve the divorce papers.

What drew you back to writing fanfic for this go-around? I've never really left fandom. I've always liked hanging around the edges—writing when I want to, not writing when I don't. I like writing—not just having written, or reading what I've written, but the act of writing itself (or at least I like it most of the time). I just find putting words down on a page very tangibly fulfilling. I don't really want anything more out of it than that.

So you en... enjooooy writing. Am I pronouncing that right? Aahfsjhkdjghj

Talk me through how that works because that’s not how my brain operates. Have you ever played an instrument?

Badly. Okay, uh. Imagine you can play an instrument well. There's a point when you're playing when you slip into almost a meditative state, where you can feel the vibrations of the instrument underneath your fingers, and you can feel the rhythm, and you know you're the one doing it, but at the same time you hear music in the air, and you've done that—you've made something beautiful, and through the act of creating it, you've become more a part of it than you could listening.

Anyway, my point being: there's a joy and a satisfaction inherent to creativity and to the act of creating something, and that applies with anything you make. That's all there is to it, I guess. I do find joy in connecting with a community, and I wouldn't give up that part of fandom for the life of me, but when I'm after that, I go on Tumblr or message a friend. When I write, it's because I want to write—specifically to write, to create in that way.

What is your relationship to your fic after you've written? How much fulfillment is the "after" in writing for you? I think for me there's a difference between writing, sharing, and posting. When I want to write, I write, and in return I've created something and fulfilled what I think is a very basic human need to make things. When I want to talk about my writing—when I want to know if it's good, if it's affected someone, if it's working well and if it, at the end of the day, might matter to someone else, I share it with someone I know will be able to give me the thoughtful feedback I crave. When I post something, I definitely do want comments from it—I'm not a perfect human, free from all desire for attention—but I'm not posting it expecting thoughtful, meaningful, and fulfilling engagement. I'm posting it because I read fic, and I like reading fic, and I want to sort of... contribute. And also get praise, because again: not perfect.

In terms of my relationship to fic after I've posted, I will say I do check for comments pretty obsessively (the potential promise of a comment notification from AO3 in my email is the only thing that gets me to actually check my email these days), but the biggest fulfillment comes from (a) the process of creating and (b) the meaningful, thoughtful engagement I seek out on my own terms.

So you write a lot of headcanon, cracky, what-if takes on Tumblr that never turn into fic. What does Tumblr give you that fanfic can’t? Functionally? Community. Tumblr is a lot quicker at responding, especially now that I've got a bit of an audience on there, and it's also way quicker for me to write a Tumblr post because I'm not putting much actual thought into it. When I'm writing, I'm focused on creating a piece of art—dubious though the quality may be. When I'm posting to Tumblr, I'm focused on making a funny joke.

Tumblr is where I get a lot of my laughs, and a lot of the feeling of community that I think is so integral to fandom—for whatever reason, a lot of us care about something (and when that something is Star Wars, you definitely are searching for a reason, because why) and humans are social creatures. We want to care together.

Fic—specifically writing fic—is where I go to fill a deeper, harder to satiate need for creation and for intellectual stimulation. Community and intellectual engagement aren't mutually exclusive, but I find that for the most part, Tumblr is better for the former, and writing fic is better for the latter.

Inspiration. Where is it for you? Other people! I'm terrible at coming up with things on my own, and that's not an exaggeration. The easiest shortcut to inspiration for me is reading other people's fics. Sometimes the inspiration is just "well that was a terrible take on everything, hold my beer while I do it better" and sometimes it's "huh, that's a neat concept, but what would happen if I did this, and threw in a pinch of that, and I think some nutmeg would go nice here," but either way it almost never fails.

#meet cute monday #willowcrowned #fanfic writers interviewed #fanfic #fanfic writing

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the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years

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Serenade (Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader) Pt. 11

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language Warnings: Nope! Notes: Here we are, a breath away from the end. This features not one, but FOUR songs written by myself. If you only choose to listen to one of them, listen to the final one (Cradle of Heaven), as it is a duet I wrote specifically for this fanfiction, as something that the reader wrote to play together with Daniela. The links to these songs will be within the fanfiction itself, at relevant times. Past Chapters: Pt. 1: Nocturne, Pt. 2: Overture, Pt. 3: Accelerando, Pt. 4: Toccata, Pt. 5: Poco a Poco, Pt. 6: Elegy, Pt. 7: Harmony, Pt. 8: Obbligato, Pt. 9: Berceuse, Pt. 10b: Hymn AMAB

Chapter 11: Cadence

(Cadence: Two chords that mark the end of a song)

The stage is set, the lights are dimmed, your heart pounds within your chest, and the world is yours. Soon, it will be Daniela’s. She is right by your side, as ever, hand gently taking hold of your own. There’s a silent reassurance in her grip, a reminder that the two of you have overcome a plethora of challenges. A promise that this will be no different. Both of you take a deep breath, in sync, before exchanging a quick kiss. All of your hard work has been leading up to the coming moments. Although you are beyond confident in your lover’s abilities, there is a shadow of doubt in the back of your mind. Not for her sake, but surrounding the expectations held by her mother, the standard against which you would be measured.

“Come hell or high water, Songbird, I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise,” Daniela whispers, squeezing your hand again, eyes unblinking as they stare into yours. “You’ve made every right choice, worked harder than anyone I know, and there is nothing more I can ask of you… except another kiss to celebrate afterwards, that is.” Giggling in response gives you the moment you need to relax, nerves fading into the background of your mind. “Now let’s put on a show the likes of which my mother has never seen, mhmm?”

THREE HOURS EARLIER:

“Here, you can borrow my brooch. It’s been in the family for generations, since before we even came to the village, passed down starting with an ancestor who crafted it himself, from materials he scavenged while fleeing his home country,” Daphne rambles, helping you attach the jewelry to your shirt. Thankfully, her hands do not tremble nearly as much as yours have been for the past hour. “I’m more than sure that Lady Daniela will tell you this much, but I feel the need to repeat just how good you look right now. I don’t know where the hell they’ve been hiding this version of our uniform, but damn do I wish I could get one for my next date with Ygritte. Seriously, if you can get one in my size, please do me that favor.”

“Anything for my best friend. Especially after all the times you’ve saved my ass these past few months,” you reply, pausing to give her shoulder an affectionate pat. If not for her constant interference running, someone would have certainly found out about your relationship with Daniela. “Speaking of that… of my life being on the line, I mean… no matter what happens today, no matter what Lady Dimitrescu decides, take care of yourself. You’ve gambled with your own blood to keep me safe, but what I’ve done, what I’ve risked, those were my choices. My consequences. The last thing I’d ever want is for you to pay for them, somehow.”

Rolling her eyes, Daphne gives you a playful shove to the chest, before smoothing out the fabric of your dress uniform. Now she refuses to meet your gaze, a familiar mistiness taking over her brown eyes.

“Nobody around here is stupid enough to think you’ll die today. You managed to get Lady Daniela, of all people, to stay focused long enough to learn some absolutely beautiful pieces of music. You have proved, time and time again, that you are a talented musician, teacher, and ‘servant’. So get out there and kick some metaphorical ass, my friend, because you are ready,” she finally says, offering you what seems to be a handshake. But as soon as your hand meets hers, she’s pulling you in for a hug, holding you tight for a solid minute. When at last you part, you give her what may very well be the last smile she’d ever see gracing your lips.

---------------------------

A hand’s edge against xer forehead, parallel to the ground, kept perfectly flat. From anyone else, it would be mockery. From xer? Honest salute, solidarity in a traditional form, accompanied by a sharp-toothed grin. Mimicking the expression, you wave at Ava, glad to see that xe would be awake for your concert. After your first night with your girlfriend, Daphne had helped arrange for someone to be your “cover story” for sleeping outside of your usual quarters. With Daniela’s input (and jealousy), only one candidate had revealed themselves, in the form of a (conveniently) mute butler with an inconsistent schedule, love of mischief, and somehow the respect of the Dimitrescu family. Now, xe appeared ready to escort you to the location of your trial by fire.

“Are you sure our mutual friend won’t be upset to see the two of us together?” You teased, knowing full well that Ava was one of the only people that Daniela trusted 100% around you. In response, xe gives an exaggerated shrug, then quickly links xer arm with your own. Together you march onwards to your destiny, amused by the way xe practically skipped down the hallway. Maybe there was a certain wisdom to xer shenanigans, a carefree philosophy that encouraged laughter in the face of death, and you embraced the thought with a smile.

Before long, however, the two of you encounter another unlikely pair headed towards the same destination: Lady Cassandra, looking somewhat embarrassed, with an unfamiliar maiden at her side. Their hands are clutching each other desperately, although neither of them dares to look at the other. Instead they both watch you closely from where they’ve paused in the corridor. Oddly unfazed, Ava gives them a short bow of acknowledgement, earning xer a brief nod from Cassandra. Seeming eager to move on, she addresses you quickly before gesturing for you to keep walking.

“Good luck. Don’t fuck this up for Daniela, or I’ll never hear the end of it,” she growls, doing her best to downplay her obvious concern. Wanting to let her keep up with her facade, you merely give a nod as you resume walking towards the concert stage. Soft footsteps behind you let you know that the strange pair are accompanying you. Still walking alongside you, Ava repeatedly glances behind you, putting out xer hands in the shape of a heart, giggling all the while. If you didn’t know any better, you would almost assume that xe wanted to get hit by Cassandra.

“Ava, please calm down. If you’re not careful, she’ll throw something at you. If she does that, you’ll probably dodge, and then I’ll probably end up getting hit, and then I’ll miss the concert, Lady Dimitrescu will kill me as punishment, Daniela will be sad and whiny about it, and none of you will have any peace for, like, a month. Three weeks, bare mims,” you tease, nudging xer in the ribs. Emphasizing a pout, xe sends one last look at Cassandra and her ‘friend’ (whose hand she was still holding onto like a lifeline), mouthing words you couldn’t parse. Based on the way Cassandra groans, it was something ridiculously cheesy. Regardless, xe behaves the rest of the way there…

ONE MINUTE TO SHOWTIME:

“I love you, Firefly, and I know that you’re going to do absolutely amazing out there. I’m so proud of you,” you murmur, pressing a feather-light kiss to Daniela’s cheek. As dearly as you wish to stay behind the curtain, in her arms, you know that the show was inevitable. With one last nod to your beloved, you part the fabric shielding you, stepping into the spotlight. Imaginary crowds grow hushed at your appearance, a sea of faces greeting you warmly. In truth, there are but five members in this audience, each gazing upon you with veiled interest. Donning you best presentation persona, you set this final act in motion. “Lady Dimitrescu, Lady Cassandra, Lady Bela, and Mx. Caldwell, it brings me great pleasure to present to you, on this day, a concert performed by your own Lady Daniela. For three months now I have acted as her instructor, and these three months have been, perhaps, the most rewarding of my entire life. I could not possibly be any more proud of her than I already am. Now, without further ado… let us begin!”

Stepping to the side, a tug of a rope has the curtains parting entirely, revealing your beloved, waiting ready at the piano. All at once your audience (including Cassandra’s partner, acting as a mere servant in the background) sits up with wide smiles. They look Daniela over, taking in the sight of her fanciest dress, and the way her eyes light up with joy. By the time her fingers begin dancing away at the keys, there is not a single ounce of anxiety in your entire soul. This first song is a relic from your past, a representation of an abandoned idea, yet she plays it like a celebration. It’s fast, hits hard, a bold take right out of the gate. Admittedly, it is also somewhat short. Nonetheless, it serves its purpose, igniting a spark of excitement in those present. Once the song ends, Daniela is surprised by the intensity of her family’s applause. In the back of her mind, she trembles with excitement, knowing that the best was yet to come.

Riding this wave of pride, she immediately settles into the next song, something slower but far grander. Affection thrums inside your chest as you watch your pupil perfectly execute another piece. You can only imagine what her mother must be feeling, to see just how far her daughter has come in such a short amount of time. A quick glance in Alcina’s direction reveals the barest hints towards her being impressed. For now that was enough to satisfy you. Soon enough her face would twist in surprise, as the second song ended, and a new face steps up onto the stage: Lady Bela. Wordlessly she retrieves her violin from the back of the stage, then turns to the front with a mischievous smile.

“Now, a duet! Presenting the ever-talented Lady Bela, to join Lady Daniela for a rendition of an original song, dubbed ‘Northern Lights’. Enjoy!” You call out, before once more taking your place at the side. While Daniela did not need you to count her in for her solo performances, this feels ever so slightly more important, and as such you do your best to conduct for the duration of the song. If either of the performers need it, they hide it well. Honestly, you weren’t sure if your girlfriend had looked your way even a single time so far. ‘Twas incredible to witness her. Akin to a siren, near glowing, taking to the stage as if born to grace its center. Even with Bela working her own magic, Daniela is ever the star. Together they weave a lovely song, notes rising high into the air, swirling around an enchanted audience.

When it ends, both performers give a bow, as if the entire affair had come to a close. Without hinting at what was to come, you switch places with the eldest Dimitrescu daughter. A deep breath rattles your ribcage as you find your center, reaching out to take Daniela’s hand, the two of you raising your arms upward in a display of union. For the first time this evening, Lady Alcina narrows her eyes in what feels like disapproval. But you pay her no mind. Instead you sit alongside your beloved, quietly settling into your practiced position.

There is no introduction for this song. No announcement, no showmanship, nor even a countdown into the symphony. Simply, like exhaling a breath, the two of you start to play. Your phrases echo hers, and vice versa, calling and answering, accompanying all the while, natural as anything holy in the wild. ‘Tis the second shortest song of the night, only long enough to showcase the degree of your partnership with Daniela. As the song crescendos into an ending, you manage to meet the gaze of your employer. Perhaps it is merely an illusion of hope, or a reflection of lights above, but you swear you see tears in her eyes.

“Outstanding, incredible,” she praises, rising to her feet alongside her other daughters, clapping all the while. Once again you rise to your feet, hand clasped with Daniela’s, bowing as deeply as you can manage. Before you can even process what’s happening, your girlfriend is being pulled away from you, swept up into the arms of her mother. Desperation digs like a knife into your heart, as you ache to celebrate with her, but you remain ever in the guise of a professional. “You did amazing, my dear. I cannot begin to describe how proud I am.” The family gathers around each other, buzzing with affection fit to make the hardest of hearts melt. You are left on the outside, awkwardly waiting, without a hint of acknowledgment.

Even if this concert was a measure of your skill as a teacher, Lady Dimitrescu had never bothered to consider you more than another servant. This night was about Daniela. About your secret girlfriend, the brightest star in all the skies. That is not something that bothers you, nor does it surprise you. All that makes you wish to weep is the desire to kiss her. To sweep her into your arms, with celebratory kisses, singing her name as a praise to higher powers. In the end, it takes several minutes for Daniela to pull away enough to move back to you, and even then she cannot give you the reaction she yearns for.

“I’ll come by to talk to you tonight, I promise,” she whispers, as she gives you the weakest hug you have ever felt. Then she is returning to her family, clinging to her mother with a massive grin. Soon enough you are left alone on stage, quiet surrounding you, mixed feelings gnawing at the pit of your stomach. Something feels… wrong. You cannot put a name to it. No one has hinted to you what your beloved has planned, for none but her even have a clue. As soon as she is alone with her mother, as soon as she has the smallest sliver of an opportunity, she knows what she must do. “Mother… we need to talk. I... I have a confession to make.”

#daniela dimitrescu x reader #daniela dimitrescu #resident evil: village #re8 village #avaskian caldwell #cliffhanger #sorry folks #not beta read

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bluesylveon2 · 3 years

Text

Do You Remember When? (Epilogue)

Written for @levihanweek Day 6: Memory and Day 7: Free Space. This is a continuation of the other fic I wrote which you can find here!

Part 1

A/N:

Levi and Hange are 24 when they meet again and 29 when they get married

Thank you @levihanweek for hosting Levihan Week and @immagoudaboi for beta reading!

Enjoy!

Levi believed, with all his heart, that he was in some cheesy romantic movie or a shitty fanfic. Like the ones where there are 2 childhood friends, they separate, meet again, and fall in love after all those years.

Well, now that movie/book had ended and opened up to the sequel: the marriage.

Levi stared at himself while he adjusted the tie in the mirror. He was currently getting ready for his big day, and he also wanted to be alone for a few minutes. Here he was at a stage in life he never expected. Marrying his childhood crush, Hange.

The couple decided to keep their marriage small. Only close friends and families were allowed to witness the event. Luckily they found a small botanical garden that was perfect for the venue, reception, and sunset photoshoots. Plus, the garden had a section dedicated to sunflowers, a flower that makes Levi smile every time he sees it. Overall, it was perfect for the couple.

Levi still remembered the day they reunited. It was only 5 years ago when Hange was with Erwin, and Levi swore Erwin would introduce her as his lover. Boy, was he wrong.

Levi made a mental note to thank whoever above for not including that.

(Np Levi)

His relationship with Hange developed smoothly for the most part. Sure there were rough patches along the way, but the two always overcame it. Thus their love grew stronger as the years progressed.

Their first date started as a simple fancy homemade dinner. It was quiet and peaceful. The couple had even sung some karaoke and ended the night waltzing to jazz music.

The second date was a whole 180. This date included Levi's 2021 Ducati XDiavel Black Star

motorcycle. It was a gift given to him by his uncle and all the gambling money he earned. The bike alone took Hange's breath away.

---

Hange let out a loud whistle as she eyed the Ducati. The motorcycle was very sleek, black, gray, and had a few hints of red. Overall, it screamed Levi.

"Levi! I didn't know you owned a Ducati! Do you know how much they are? Over 20k!" Hange exclaimed with stars in her eyes. Levi smirked before walking up to her side. He wrapped an arm around her waist and rested his head on her shoulder.

"Actually, this bike was a gift from Kenny. He won enough at the casino and bought it for me for my 24th birthday."

Hange fondly smiled at the thought. She knew Kenny always had a soft spot for Levi since he is his only nephew.

"You know what we should do now, Levi?" Hange's smile turned into a full grin. "Let's take it for a spin!"

Levi took his head off of Hanges shoulder and looked at her with shock. "Just like 10 years ago?"

"Yes! But…." Her voice trailed off, and she stared down at her feet. "Can I drive it this time?"

Levi's jaw dropped, and he just stared at her. Hange waved a hand in front of his face.

"Levi? Are you there?"

"I heard you. It's just….are you sure?" He asked with worry, and Hange chuckled at how cute he looked.

"No need to worry about me, Levi. Mike used to let me drive his motorcycle around, so I know what to do."

"He let you do what?!" Levi became horrified. Why didn't Mike ever mention this to him?

Hange waved a hand nonchalantly. "I only had minor scrapes when I first started, but I managed to pick it up quickly. Just like you!"

-----

"So, where do you want to go?" Hange asked Levi, who wrapped his arms around her waist. The motorcycle purred with life, and the two had their helmets secured on their heads. The only thing left to do was actually leave Levi's garage.

"I'm okay with going anywhere. Just as long as I’m with you."

"Really? You don't mind driving us off the cliff?" Hange teased and laughed at her own suggestion.

Levi rolled his eyes but smirked along with Hange. "No, and nowhere reckless, Four-Eyes. Got it?"

Hange did a mini salute before facing forward and positioning herself to take off. "Yes, sir! Besides, I know the perfect place to go."

Levi decided to not question where Hange wanted to bring him. He trusted her enough to know that wherever she brought him will hold significance to the both of them.

Levi rested his head against Hange's back as she took off. He watched the city pass by in a blur while listening to Hange's merry laugh. It was like music to his ears despite the other sounds in the background. He kept his focus on Hange only.

Hange zoomed and zigzagged through the city. What felt like seconds, was actually hours when they arrived at their destination. Levi's eyes widened in recognition.

"Is this?" Levi asked Hange, and she nodded.

In front of Levi was the same park he took her to several years ago. The park itself had been updated in the past 10 years since the time he and Hange last snuck out. There were multiple colorful flowers and trees planted all over to provide more natural shade. Additionally, the city added more benches so people could sit down and enjoy the scenery.

Hange parked the motorcycle so she and Levi could get off. She extended her hand out to Levi (which he gladly accepted) and led him to the hill, where they shared their first kiss.

This time, there was a giant ginkgo tree with bright yellow leaves on the branches. The autumn breeze blew some of the leaves off to float in the air as if they were dancing. Hange let go of Levi to run up ahead and go under the tree.

It was an amazing sight for Levi to witness: from below the tree, Hange watched the leaves fall. She spread her arms out and laughed as the leaves began dancing around her body like it was people worshiping a goddess.

Boy was Levi in love.

"Levi! Come join me." Hange called out to him as the ginkgo leaves started decorating her brown hair.

Levi strode over to Hange and reached up to her head when he was close enough. He plucked a yellow leaf out of Hange's hair and brought it close to examine it.

"Did you know that the ginkgo leaf is considered a living fossil, and it symbolizes hope and peace in China? Additionally, it also survived the Hiroshima bombing, so it also symbolizes endurance and vitality."

Suddenly, Hange's face became serious, and she clasped her hands over Levi's. The yellow ginkgo leaf remained in Levi's grasp.

"Levi, I'm sorry about our falling out in the past."

"Hange, you don't need to apologize-"

Hange shut Levi up by pressing a finger to his lips.

"Let me finish." She added and retracted her finger. "I want this relationship-" she gestured between the two of them. "To be like the ginkgo leaf. Do you want to know why?" She quietly added.

Levi remained quiet but nodded his head, so Hange could continue.

"I want us to endure through every challenge we face together. Until we die. I want us to someday live together, have kids, and keep making happy memories. I know this is our second date, but I have always loved you, Levi. I want you to know that, but I don't expect you to--"

Hange never finished her rambling when Levi swiftly grabbed Hange by the back of her head and brought his lips to hers. She dropped her hands down and brought Levi close to her.

Levi didn't need to vocalize anything, but Hange already knew. It was like telepathy between the two of them; Levi loved her too.

The couple was preoccupied with their embrace to notice the yellow ginkgo leaf flutter down and land softly on the grass.

---

Levi smiled at the declaration of love under the ginkgo tree. The leaf Levi held was now pressed in a frame that sat in the couple's living room. It was a constant reminder of a new start in their lives. It symbolized turning a new leaf for the two.

Levi moved on to add the boutonniere to his suit. The item itself was made up of fake (because it saves money and lasts longer. Hange’s words, not his) sunflowers. Levi smiled after he finally pinned the boutonniere.

Boy, was he in love with Hange.

The door rattling interrupted Levi's thoughts of his fiance, and he clicked his tongue in annoyance.

"Mike! Erwin! I told you to knock before coming in-" Levi complained and turned around to glare at the intruder, only to be greeted by his fiance instead.

"Here. Hange?!" He exclaimed, and Hange chuckled.

"Oh, Levi. You know I don't knock when I enter the room. Especially the bedroom. I always catch you at the perfect times." She chuckled and wiggled her eyebrows. Levi blushed and looked away out of embarrassment.

"Why are you here? What about the whole 'seeing the bride before the wedding thing?'" Levi added, and Hange rolled her eyes.

"I could care less about that whole superstition shit, Levi. You know that."

Levi looked at Hange with concern. "What are you doing here anyway? Is something wrong?"

Hange fake gasped and widened her eyes. "Is it wrong for me to see my future husband on our wedding day?" She slumped her shoulders and strode over to stand next to Levi. Levi, noticing Hange’s distress, led her to sit down on a nearby sofa.

"Levi, to be honest, I'm nervous, and I just wanted to see you.”She admitted, wrapped her arms around Levi, and buried her face in the crook of his neck. She was careful enough to not ruin her makeup and hair.

Levi hugged Hange back and rubbed her back. "Your bridesmaids must be worried about you right now. Did you go ‘bridezilla’ on them?"

Hange laughed and looked up at Levi. He looked down at her in return. "Worse, but you don't need to know that."

Levi chuckled, and silence enveloped the two. It was nice, just sitting alone together in tranquility. This was their time to share before the ceremony. Sure, there might be chaos outside the room, but Levi and Hange were together. They endured every challenge like the ginkgo tree. The couple was also like a sunflower and the sun: facing each other until the end of the day.

-------

A/N:

I wrote 3 different wedding au's so far and I find that hilarious!

Thank you @cat for the suggestion! This is late but I was inspired to write more 😁

#levihanweek2021 #day 6: memory #day 7: free space #lhweek2021 #levihan #levihan fanfiction

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therealvalkyrie · 3 years

Text

Through the Mirror: Part 1

my body, my music

Pairing/setting: Detective!Levi Ackerman x Female!Ghost!Reader, modern!AU within the Walls

Summary: When you’re murdered one Tuesday morning, can Levi piece together the true circumstances of your death with your help from beyond the grave?

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: dead body, descriptions of blood, swearing, mentions of violence

AN: Welcome to my new series because I have no self control and can’t finish projects before starting others! Lemme just start off by saying updates may come pretty irregularly because I do have a lot of other WIPs to work on, but! I’m really excited about this idea and have a whole lot planned:) I seriously hope you enjoy. After all, who doesn’t love a good murder mystery? Drop into my DMs/askbox/comments/reblogs to let me know what you think! Be kind to yourselves and others. ~valkyrie

“Ah, shit! Hello!? I’m standing right here!”

The woman completely ignores you, stepping carefully over the puddle of blood and across your tiny living room. You cross your arms and pout. She ignores that, too.

“‘Scuse me, boys, let the experts take it from here,” she quips, gently pushing past the two detectives and crouching next to your body on the ground.

It’s ugly, but she’s probably seen worse, you muse from where you’re leaning against the door jamb. It’s only been lying there for a couple of hours, so at least you haven’t bloated to something out of an NCIS episode. Must smell horrid, though, judging by the mask the head detective has pulled over his face.

“So, you said the landlady called at about 7 am?” the ME inquires, cocking her head up to look at the detectives, nylon gloved hands held at the ready.

“7:07 exactly. Said a neighbor made a noise complaint, she came up to check it out, found signs of a forced entry, and called us.” It’s the taller blonde who speaks up, reading from an off-brand pocket notepad in his left hand. The kind you’d find on sale at Staples after Back-to-School season.

Interesting. You lean your head against the wall, eyes trained on the trio. You’d pegged the ill-tempered shorter one as in charge. Maybe he’s just the quiet type.

“Hmm, alright. Moblit, get off your ass and come take the pictures before we move her,” the woman calls to someone behind you, and you turn just in time to get a face full of Moblit’s chest as he walks towards you.

You cringe back with a “God, seriously?” to no response.

“Yes, sorry, right away, Hange!” Moblit hurries past- no, through -you, sidestepping the ottoman and the blood. It feels weird, like a strong wind, but not altogether unpleasant to have someone walk through you, you suppose. You look down at your chest to watch your misty body re-settle into itself before looking back at the group in your living room.

Were it not for the gruesome accents of blood flecked up the walls and your body riddled with stab wounds, you’d chuckle at how all four of them struggled to navigate the space. It’s cramped enough when it’s just you, fitting only a couch, a chair, a coffee table, your fern (Boris), and a narrow IKEA bookshelf. With the four of them plus a dead body, it’s like watching a freaking clown car.

“Sorry, excuse me, Captain, oh, was that your toe—?” Moblit’s struggling the most, having to move to capture different angles with his bulky camera. When he steps on the shorter man’s toe, he positively blanches, fumbling over himself to apologize while the ME laughs openly.

“God, alright, just,” the Captain pinches his delicate nose between a thumb and forefinger, then decides it’s better to wait in the kitchen. “C’mon, Gin, let’s chat in there.”

The Captain and the blonde detective both pass through you on the way back to the kitchen, but you only sigh and shake the tingly feeling of being incorporeal out of your fingers before following them.

“So,” the man called Gin takes the initiative, flipping back through his notebook and standing by the fridge. “I got statements from the landlady and two of the neighbors, numbers 303 and 304 down the hall. 301, directly across the hall, didn’t answer, but I got contact info from the landlady.” He pauses to read and scratch at his whiskery beard. “It was 304 who made the noise complaint, said she heard yelling this morning at around 5:45, and that she normally wouldn’t’ve said anything but it was, quote, the fourth goddamn time this week and I work the goddamn night shift, I deserve some fucking rest, unquote.”

You grin. Mrs. Sheffield was never one to mince words, something you appreciated when your ex-boyfriend got too loud and she took it upon herself to give him a piece of her mind. You catch a glimmer of a smile on the ornery Captain’s face above where he’s pulled his mask down before he gestures for Gin to keep going, keeping his thoughtful gaze fixed on the floor and his back against your countertop.

“Then after she called the landlady, she went to bed, only to be woken by us two hours later.”

“You said she called the landlady at 5:45 and that she works the night shift?”

Gin double checks his notes. “That’s right.”

“And she works at the hospital?”

“Yes, as a scrub nurse on the night shift.”

“But the night shift at the hospital ends at 6:30.”

“It was her night off,” you and Gin say at the same time before you catch yourself. They can’t hear you, anyway. This’d be a lot easier if they could.

Gin plows ahead. “But she says she keeps the same sleep schedule so she doesn’t, ah, fuck up her circadian rhythm.”

The Captain practically snorts at this, itching for a second under his silk cravat (can someone say pretentious) before settling back into a listening silence.

“303 says he didn’t hear a thing. College kid, looked exhausted. Said he was asleep the whole night after he got in at,” a page flip, “11 o’clock last night. Wasn’t much help, but looked genuinely upset when we told him about the murder. Wanted to know if there was anything he could do. Oh, but he did, uh, hang on,” more page flips, “He did tell us that he heard her and her boyfriend arguing a lot. Which is consistent with what Mrs. Sheffield told us.”

“Ex-boyfriend,” you correct into thin air.

“A lover’s spat gone wrong, then,” Mr. Pretentious Captain muses. You huff in annoyance. A lover’s spat. If that’s all that this is written off as you’ll have some serious PD haunting to do. Chris may have been an angry, loud, disruptive manipulator, but he wouldn’t murder you. He didn’t murder you. “Any info on the whereabouts of the boyfriend?”

“Ex-boyf—!”

Blondie cuts you off, “Not currently, but we do have a name: Chris Henderson, works in admin down at the University. Lives across town closer to the Bridge.”

“Send some uniforms to bring him in for questioning. No arrests yet, tell ‘em to keep it friendly.”

“Right, I’ll put Dreyse and Bodt on it.”

“Dreyse, really?” Captain Cravat gives Gin an incredulous look.

“Hey, she may look like a ditz but she gets the job done. And she might get him to let down his guard,” Gin argues, grinning.

“Fine. I’ll meet them at the station, you stay here and make sure that mousy-haired dunce doesn’t fuck up my crime scene.”

“Hey, who’re you callin’ mousy-haired, short stack?” Hange actually sticks her whole head through yours this time, to butt into the conversation, and you shriek and jump away to the other side of your tiny kitchen, now sandwiched between Blondie and Shortstack. The latter twitches and swats at the air by his ear, as though to dislodge a fly, narrowly missing yours. You give him a weird look then turn back to listen to the ME. She’s leaning into the kitchen at an alarming angle, one hand on the doorframe and the other on the end of the gurney you assume is carrying your body. You shudder at the thought of being toted around in a dark, musty, humid glorified coat bag. Ugh.

“—takin’ this baby”-she slaps the gurney twice and you flinch-“back so I can get started on the autopsy, Moblit’s staying to take more pictures and collect forensics. If Eld’s stayin’ here with Mob, does that mean you’re catching a ride with me, Levi?” The question is addressed to Captain Grump on your right, who gives a heavy sigh and pushes off the counter.

“I guess so. I get to choose music though.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” she’s wagging a finger, grinning. “My body, my music!”

“How about my body, my music?” you suggest, following Levi. “I deserve it after the day I’ve had.”

Again, Levi twitches and swats aggressively by his ear, nearly hitting you full in the face this time.

“You hear that, Gin? This place got a mosquito problem or something?”

“I do not have a mosquito problem!” and “No, sir, I don’t hear anything.” overlap in the air.

Captain Levi only grunts, then starts spouting instructions, which Gin notes down. “I want footage from any cameras in the building, and from the shops next door and across the street. I want statements from residents both upstairs and downstairs. I want names, addresses, and numbers of next of kin on my desk by noon, and lastly, I want no one, save for myself, you, shitty glasses, and mousy-hair, in or out of this apartment. Are we clear?”

“Crystal clear, sir.”

“Good. I’m leaving you Braus to help and to show her the ropes of this kind of thing. Even though she’s on the case, she will not set foot in this apartment. I don’t trust her not to leave breadcrumbs in the bloodstains.

“Yes, sir.”

“I expect an in-person report before shift-change this evening. See you then.” Then, he’s sweeping out of the kitchen in pursuit of Hange and the gurney, leaving you to scurry after. As you exit your home, he shoots a young auburn-haired woman in a crisp white blouse and wool slacks a look. “Braus. You’re with Gin. Don’t go in the apartment.”

She straightens up from leaning against the wall with a jolt and brushes croissant crumbs off her front. “Yes, Captain Levi, sir!” It’s slightly muffled by the pastry stuffed into her mouth.

“Tch.”

It’s fascinating watching how Levi and Hange manage to navigate the gurney down the narrow, twisting stairs of your walk-up apartment building. They’re both clearly used to this sort of thing, communicating only in short phrases and grunts when they encounter an obstacle. Occasionally, you offer up a pointer and watch as Levi becomes increasingly irritated.

“Watch out for Mr. Laslow’s cat, he likes to sneak up on ya!”

“Hange, do you hear— shit!” Levi hops to the side, narrowly avoiding the tabby tail as Tubbins McGee whisks past.

“It’s only a cat, Levi, dunno what’s got you so worked up today,” Hange teases, grin echoing your own as you chortle from the landing above them.

Eventually, they spill out onto the sidewalk and into the bright mid-day, and Hange groans loudly, stretching with both hands on her back.

“Ugh. Remind me not to die in there, I’d hate to put someone else through that.”

“Boof, tell me about it,” you commiserate.

“Noted,” Levi snarks.

Hange removes jingling keys from her pocket and unlocks the ME’s van parked along the sidewalk with a beep, then opens the back doors and steps in. You follow, leaning against the cool metal siding to watch.

When they both load into the front seats and the engine turns over, you lean forward between them to listen in.

“So,” Hange starts, smoothly pulling out into the road behind a silver minivan. “I’ll be able to give you a more solid answer in a couple hours, but my initial estimated time of death would be around 5:45 this morning.”

Levi nods, staring out the passenger window while he answers. “That lines up with the neighbor’s story.”

“Theories so far?”

“Well, there’s the boyfriend,” he muses, lifting a hand to rub his chin.

“Too obvious,” you say dully, not bothering to amend the lack of “ex” yet again. “Next theory.”

He’s quiet for a moment, then mutter, almost too quietly for you to catch: “Too obvious, hmm? Next theory....”

You’re momentarily flabbergasted, hand falling through the faux-leather seat back in your shock. Can he actually hear you? You shake out your hand while it re-materializes, tuning in to the conversation as Hange’s responding.

“—a little far-fetched, don’t you think? I mean, has there been any of that activity in this area recently?”

“Mm, I’ll have to touch base with Petra. If there has been, I think it’s worth looking into.”

“What is? Wait, go back,” you frantically plead, leaning further into his airspace. But Hange plows on.

“Oh, it’s Petra, now, hmm? Not Raggedy Anne anymore?” Her tone is teasing, and she glances over to Levi for a reaction.

He doesn’t give her one, just stares out the window pensively before reaching for the radio dial. The stereo blares up into an Oldies station, and you make a disgusted face along with Levi.

“You listen to this shit?”

“Hey, my dead body, my music, sweetcheeks. Don’t like it, you can thumb it back to the PD.”

“How about my dead body, my music?” you suggest again, reaching for the dial at the same time as Levi does. Just as his slender fingers touch it, your hand passes through the whole front console and the oldies are replaced with a terrifyingly loud static screeching.

“Christ, Levi, what’d you do?” Hange shrieks, lunging forward to punch the radio off as you remove your hand.

“Nothing! It just went berserk!”

They bicker while you stare at your offending palm. “Huh. Didn’t know I could do that.”

If you can actually interact with objects, at least to some degree, and if it turns out Levi can hear you.... This whole thing might be easier than you thought.

#levi ackerman x reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot fanfic #snk fanfic #aot x reader #snk x reader #captain levi x reader #female!reader #hange zoe #moblit berner #eld gin #sasha braus #through the mirror #valkyrie writes #tw:murder #tw:violence #tw:dead body #tw:blood

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cadence-talle · 3 years

Text

looking for the golden light

Pairing: Dex Dizznee/Tam Song

Wordcount: 1,186

Summary: Tam slams into the shop wearing a large straw hat, face stormy. The door he’s shoved open hits the magazine stand and almost knocks it over. Dex winces.

His hat has flowers on it. Uh oh.

Other notes: written around a prompt by the wonderful @i-love-side-characters!! my line was “Seriously? I can’t believe you’d think that.” which i... followed. mostly.

anyway please don’t ask me what this is, i Do Not know. it’s set in the 1950s? maybe? Dex works at a drugstore with a soda fountain :/

Taglist: @everyonehasthoughts, @catboyruy, @loverofallthingssmart, @a-lonely-tatertot, @enbies-and-felonies, @lemontarto, @sofia-not-sophie, @ruewen-and-rising, @silver-snow, @keefeinnit, @hyperlollypop, @thesandsofdawn, @my-swan-song, @impostertamsong, @yeetersofthelostcities, @diamond-dreamerr, @we-have-no-bananas-today, @an-absolute-travesty, @callas-starkflower-stew, @jadenightthewriter, @keefes-hairgel, @kirisong, @fire-sapphics, @alabestrine, @brilliantblindinglights, @isapizzas, @mistythegenderqueermess, @imaramennoodle, @queersofthelostcities, @b-blurryyfacee, @bianavacker-is-bi-as-hell, @silver-war, @real-smooth

“Where is he.”

Tam slams into the shop wearing a large straw hat, face stormy. The door he’s shoved open hits the magazine stand and almost knocks it over. Dex winces.

His hat has flowers on it. Uh oh.

“Where. Is. Keefe.” Tam repeats. Dex raises an eyebrow, drying off another glass and putting it on the shelf. He’s lucky the drugstore’s empty right now- when Tam’s in a mood like this, it tends to scare off customers.

“He’s not on shift today. Why, what happened?”

Tam huffs. “Remember when I came here last week? Because I needed more silver dye for my hair and I was out? And Keefe gave me that bottle?”

“You used it? Seriously? I can’t believe you’d think that thing was legit.”

“Well, I certainly wasn’t expecting it to turn my head green!” Tam whips the hat off his head and Dex hides a laugh behind his hand.

Sure enough, Tam’s hair is green. Neon green, in fact, a color Dex would be astonished at if he hadn’t made that particular dye himself. It almost seems to glow in the sunlight coming through the front windows.

“Looks good,” Dex says, trying to keep the giggle out of his voice. From the glower Tam gives him, it doesn’t work.

“Can you fix it or not?”

“Yeah, I can. Gimme a second.” Dex turns to the soda fountain and fills up a cup, sliding it over the counter to Tam. “Drink this. Maybe it’ll make you less homicidal.”

Tam slides onto one of the stools and sighs, taking a sip. “Thanks,” he mutters, which is about as close an apology as Dex is going to get. Dex hums and rummages around in the medicine cabinet.

“Here,” he says after a second. “This’ll turn your hair back. I think you have to bleach it first, though. It’s not as strong as the green one was.”

“Ugh.” Tam puts his head on the counter. “It’s Sunday.”

“Oh.” Sunday means the barber- the only place Tam can get his hair bleached- is closed. Which means...

“I’m going to be like this for at least another day, aren’t I.” Tam’s tone is defeated. Dex stares at him for a moment, watches his fingers tap against the side of his stool in some sort of confusing rhythm.

Fine. Okay.

He crosses the shop and turns the OPEN sign on the front to CLOSED. It’s only four and he’s probably going to get chewed out for this, but it’s fine. Livvy loves him anyway.

“I can bleach your hair here,” Dex says. “If you have an hour or two.”

Tam lifts his head up. “You can?”

“Yeah. Grab that towel unless you want to ruin your shirt and come into the back room.”

“Okay,” Tam says. When Dex glances back, he could swear Tam’s smiling.

The bleaching itself doesn’t take long. Dex brushes it on, folds Tam’s hair up into a cap, and settles down to wait. In the meantime, he switches the radio on.

It starts up on a bright song, crackling halfway through to a news report as Dex adjusts the antenna. Tam leans over to listen.

“Your new project?” he asks. Dex nods.

“I’ve rewired it to pick up long-distance signals. It’s not super useful to know what the weather in Seattle is, I guess, but it’s cool.”

“Yeah.” Tam reaches out and presses a button. They connect to another music station. “It’s cool that you can do stuff like that, though. You think you’ll go to college for mechanics or something?”

“I want to.” Dex shrugs. “Depends, I guess. If I get a scholarship.”

“Right,” Tam says. There’s an awkward pause and Dex searches frantically for something to fill the silence.

“What about you? Do you want to study anything?”

Tam huffs a little laugh, glancing down at the countertop. “Probably,” he says. “Maybe. Yes.”

Dex looks at him, at the way his shoulders hunch in just a little bit and his eyes are firmly fixed on the marble. It’s weird, to see Tam so unsure of himself. To see Tam without the tough pretense.

“It’s still a year till graduation,” Dex says. “You have time to figure it out.”

“Yeah.” Tam smiles a little and goes to tug at his hair, realizing halfway through that it’s still covered. Dex snorts.

“The bleach will be set soon. I think we have more silver in the cabinets, actually, if you want to do your bangs while you’re here.”

“Oh.” Tam nods and doesn’t say anything else. Dex tilts his head at him.

“Do you want to dye your bangs while you’re here?”

Tam shrugs. “I don’t know. I’ve had the silver bangs forever. I can’t tell if I want to keep them or- not.”

“They were, like, a rebellion thing, right?”

“Yeah. Which was great, when I lived with my parents and it’d make my dad pissed, but now we’re staying with Wylie and Tiergan and it’s just like.” Tam waves a hand. “I don’t know.”

The song on the radio changes into something fast and upbeat. Dex lowers the volume.

“It’s up to you,” he says. “Right? Your hair.”

“Right.”

“Speaking of which. The bleach is probably done by now.” Dex stifles another laugh as Tam uncovers his hair, which is now a bright blond. “You look fantastic.”

Without saying anything, Tam reaches for his hat. He stares at Dex, face expressionless.

“Time to hit the beach, I guess.” Dex says, and watches as Tam’s poker face breaks.

Applying the dye takes an annoyingly long time. Dex is careful to get every strand of hair, leaving the bangs for last. When he’s almost done, he steps back and looks at Tam.

“Do it,” Tam says. “I don’t have anything to prove anymore.”

Dex smiles and finishes the bottle.

“Thanks you,” Tam murmurs later, when his hair is tucked up again and almost done. “You didn’t have to do all of this.”

“I wanted to, though,” Dex points out. “Couldn’t just let you run around looking like a paintbrush.”

Tam laughs. He reaches out and takes Dex’s hand, examining the black blotches on his fingertips where the dye seeped through his gloves. Dex pretends his heart isn’t beating a mile a minute.

“Still,” Tam says. “Thank you.”

-/-

“Good morning.”

The radio’s playing again when Tam walks into the shop the next day. He’s still wearing the straw hat. Dex can see his bangs under it, though, and they’re a perfect natural color. He raises an eyebrow at Tam.

“Nice hat. Keefe’s in the back, by the way, if you still want to yell at him.”

“Thank you.” Tam slides onto his stool again. “And no, actually. I just came here so I could talk to you.”

“Oh.” Dex blinks. “What about?”

Tam looks at him. Looks down at the ground. Looks into his eyes again.

“They’re playing a movie musical at the theater next weekend,” he says, voice level. “Would you like to go with me?”

He’s so calm and perfectly awkward that Dex cracks a smile.

“I’d like that,” he says. The radio keeps singing.

#this fic is brought to you by the fact i just dyed my hair blue and also the dream i had last night that everyone in kotlc wore straw hats #lynn rambles #my writing #kotlc #dam #dex dizznee #tam song

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moondustaeil · 4 years

Text

⋅ ɢᴇɴʀᴇ : a thunderstorm-filled night with mark : fluff

⋅ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ : mark x reader

⋅ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ : 1.1k

Right when the weather forecast is about to reveal tonight's stormy weather, the television screen goes black. The weather broadcaster is no longer explaining in the monotone voice, neither is he pointing at a card that you don't bother reading. Your fingers blindly reach out to grasp the remote, and as soon as the black zapper is clenched between your fist, you press the first button your finger rests on.

Nothing. Not a pixel of the screen that changes the black shade into a colour. The screen stays black like it's never been something else, and the sound is nonexistent like it doesn't even have a sound function. Thinking Mark is the culprit -because he knows how anxious you get over stormy weather- you turn your body towards him.

"Why did you do that?" You ask. You forget how you are the one possessing of the remote control, neither do you see the confused look written all over his face. You simply blame him because he knows your fear of thunderstorms: he's your biggest saviour in them and now you're accusing him of preventing you from being scared.

Mark turns his attention from the nonfunctional television to you, his eyes appearing slightly softer but still as confused. Your words confuse him even more than the television does, but he knows that he needs to puzzle those together. "I didn't," he protests lightly, his hands moving up in defence.

Your eyelids narrow, revealing less of your intense irises even though you look slightly more intimidating now. "You didn't turn off the television?" You ask him. It's a serious question because who else could have turned the television off, you didn't as your hand wasn't on the remote before, and Mark had been too far away to be able to reach it.

"I swear I didn't. I was sitting here!" This time Mark's defence is more intense, getting annoyed that you accuse him of something he didn't do. It takes him a second to realise why both of you are getting so worked up over it: you are afraid of thunderstorms and he is the one who will always hold you close through the thunder-filled nights. To give a closeup of how those nights are: they are pretty much sleepless.

To give an example of how storm-filled nights pass: the two of you usually collect everything important in a bag and place it in a corner in case you would need to flee from the apartment and the two of you sleep on top of the sheets, cuddled in one another's arms. You see every hour of the clock: one, two, three, four, five o'clock. Not to forget all of the minutes between those hours.

Tonight will be no different to that example, even though you still hope you will be able to sleep a little bit between the rumbles of thunder and the flashes of lightning. The stress from the thunderstorm combined with the exhaustion the day after does you no well.

"Okay, I believe you," you nod. You believe Mark as he says the words but that does take away the explanation you had for the sudden standby of the television. Mark sits up properly and grasps his phone from the coffee table "I'll just check the weather like this, don't worry," he says as he unlocks the device. Though after going to the weather app, he realises that even the app doesn't give him any updates.

"I guess the power went off already," He concludes, seeing that his wifi signal is completely gone. And having no electricity also explains why it's suddenly a hue darker in the room, the table lamp in the corner is turned off too. You stand up and spin around the room: no television, no table lamp, no sound of the washing machine doing the laundry. That the electricity went off could only mean one thing: the thunderstorm was close.

Upon Mark's request, you find yourself in bed earlier than expected. It's been around ten minutes since you were robbed of electricity and the thunderstorm had presented itself half of those minutes ago. Droplets of rain layer over the sound of the thunderstorm, though it's not as calming as ASMR always makes it out to be. They hit the window rapidly, almost in sync with the rapid beat of your heart.

It's Mark who wraps his fingers around your left shoulder and gently pulls you to lie next to him, on top of the sheets that cover the mattress. Sometimes you're a mess tangled in the sheets, but during the thunderstorms, you can be a mess without them. "Let's try to rest a bit before it gets worse. If we manage to fall asleep now, we might sleep through it," Mark reasons softly. His voice soothes you, alluring you into the idea of closing your eyes to sleep.

You hum in thought, pondering about the idea, but your idea is surely not as ideal as his. As ideal as an idea can get in this situation, that is. "Just close your eyes, love," Mark whispers as he notices your tense appearance: your legs tensed like they're ready for a marathon, your eyes widely opened and staring in direction of the window.

Against your will, your body responds to his words. Your eyes are closed before you can force them into staying open, though the rest of your body stays tensed up when a new rumble of thunder erupts from above.

To soothe the fear that fuels the tense muscles, Mark wraps both of his arms around you and pulls you onto his side of the bed carefully. His arms stay around your waist, holding you as close as he can, even though one hand slowly makes its way to your arm. Goosebumps rise on your skin as he brushes over your arm gently, tracing curved lines and meaningful figures.

"It will be over in a few hours. Think of thunderstorms like my heartbeat," Mark whispers in your ear. His forehead is rested against the side of your head, whispering the self-made quote into your ear so that you momentarily forget the rumbling outside the window. "Just like thunderstorms rumble for nature, my heartbeat beats for you."

His words lull you away from the negative thunderstorms, instead, your ears can only imagine the rumbles as the beats of his heart. A sound that you've heard so many times, you can almost imagine it even in a music-filled room. Whenever the thunder doesn't rumble, your mind fills in the blank moments with the beating sound.

Minutes pass and so does the thunderstorm. But your eyes are still closed and so are Mark's, peacefully asleep through the late hours of the night and the early hours of the morning. Mark's arms are still wrapped around your body: he feels like he's embracing the sun which is you, and you're embraced by the moon shining from a clear sky.

💌 send me a member (nct/tbz/too) + an au/genre and I'll write you a drabble or some soft hours

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writing-realityawayfromreality · 4 years

Text

*I’m thinking about having this part in the story that I am currently working on but it is a bit different so PLEASE let me know what you think. I’ve had this idea in my head for awhile now and spending time with my niece has made me really think about kids of my own one day. Also please note that this story is supposed to take place when Harry is 30. I’m hoping the one direction reunion comes WAYYYYY before that but to just make the story flow a bit better I had to make him older. Anyways, as always, all the love,

“Where daddy?” your youngest daughter asked as you and your children take your seats in the front of the crowd. “He’s back stage.” your oldest daughter said. “Why?” Your two year old daughter asked once again. “Because that man right there” she points to James “is going to ask him some questions for tv.” your oldest daughter tried to explain as best as a five year old could. You just chuckled to yourself listening to your daughters talking when you felt your phone go off.

Harry-

Did you guys get to your seats alright?

You quickly answered knowing that he was about to come on stage at any moment.

Just sat down, the girls are excited to see you preform.

Harry-

See you soon my loves.

You were going to respond when you heard James ask the crowd to put their hands together for Harry styles. Your two daughters jumped out of their seats and started cheering for their dad. Harry had walked out from the back stopping briefly to wave at his daughters before giving you a wink. You could feel yourself blushing, there wasn’t a day that went by that you didn’t love Harry as much as you loved him when you first started dating. Your two daughters called out to their dad as he sat down next to James which only caused him to laugh a bit before blowing them kisses.

“Harry...” James said making Harry chuckle “James.” Harry said getting serious and looking him in the eyes. “It’s been awhile since we had you on the show.” James started out. “How’ve you been?” “I’ve been amazing. I just put out another album, spending a lot of time at home with my beautiful family, just kind of basking in this time together before going on the road again.” He said looking at you. “Well I think you just answered all the questions that i had prepared for the show tonight so... ladies and gentlemen, Harry styles.” James said laughing as everyone started clapping. Harry gave a joking shrug and stood up pretending to head backstage. “No no no I’m just kidding. Sit down.” James continued laughing. “You took some time off from touring and in that time you made this album, you want to talk about the new album a bit? I mean during your one direction time if felt as though you guys were always on the road and then the hiatus happened and you all had your solo careers and you put out your self titled album, toured. Took some time to put out fine line, toured then the pandemic happened so it pushed tour off a bit and then you finished tour, took a year to write your third album, toured that one and now you’re putting out your fourth album? James asked looking at Harry.

“Yeah...” *coughs* “So, the first five years of one direction we put out an album each year and we toured almost all of them besides the last album which we still yet have to do... ” Harry smirks as the crowd cheers. “I love touring and whether you were here from the one direction days or just discovered my music yesterday I really appreciate all your support and I know all the rest of the boys appreciate it as well. I had just met my then girlfriend before hiatus happened. On tour actual, it’s a funny story. But anyways I took some time off after the hiatus hit and really I tried to find who I was. I was in two movie “Dunkirk” and also “Don’t worry darling”. As far as music I had then put out my self titled album and toured that. Took some time off to write Fine Line, started touring that a bit but like you said the pandemic shut everything down so i had to wait a year to tour that album. And then I took about a year to write the third album, wrote most of that while touring Fine line. I toured that one of course , and then I took year and a half... not really off, but instead trying to write a album that meant a lot to not only me but my family as well. Can any of you guess what I am going to do next?” Harry asked gesturing towards the crowd. “Tour!” they all yelled back as harry smiled. “So tell us about your album that is coming out.” James said.

“Well, so like I had said, i took sometime to figure out who i was as a solo artist and you know when you’re performing a certain type of music for so long you yourself kinda get lost. But I had my now wife y/n by my side and she kinda helped me to reconnect with myself and be comfortable with making the music on my first album, she has supported me day in a day out and I can’t thank her enough. I then went onto write Fine Line and that album was written while y/n and I had broken up and we were seeing other people and there was just something about y/n that I couldn’t let go...” Harry stopped when he heard people the crowd awe. “Don’t worry, we ended up back together... clearly.” harry laughed. “But by the time the third album came out I was already married and now i took some time off to spend with my wife and daughters and that’s how the fourth album was born, it was based on all the emotions that I was feeling. I was surrounded by friends and family, so this album is upbeat and happy, it’s about love, loving yourself, being in love, loving life, and loving one another.

“Not to switch topics but you mentioned your wife...” James said. “I did... can we get a round of applause for my beautiful wife.” Harry asked as both him and Jame as well as the crowd started to cheer and clap. “You both are hardly ever on social media...” James started as Harry just nodded in agreement. “But when you guys are the fans get the best content, whether that be either you doing something or her doing something, sometimes it’s something your kids have done or something about your pets, and the fans just love it. A lot of the comments that i see is them asking for you two to be their parents. How does that make you two feel?” James chuckled. “Uh, well, my wife and I both agreed that we wanted to raise our kids out of the spot light so we try not to post too much but we would welcome whoever into our family with open arms... we just want everyone to feel loved and treated with kindness.” Harry said looking to the crowd as they clapped. “Speaking of welcoming people into your family, your latest post that the both of you posted was that you two are expecting your third child together!” James announced. “Wait a minute, three children?” Harry asked as though he was in shock by the news. Harry started to count on his fingers “Darcy... Angelique... and um... baby styles...” He held up three fingers “One, two, three, yep three... ” Harry pursed his lips and blew out air while still looking like he was in shock causing everyone to laugh “ladies and gentlemen give a round of applause for the expecting couple” James exclaimed. “I remember when you were on here when you two were first engaged and the next thing I knew you two were having your first child together and then your second, and now third!” Jame stated. “Well, that’s how it works James, you can’t have your second child first...” Harry Joked.

“Your wife is here today, is she not?” James asked. “She is, and my two beautiful daughters are here today as well.” Harry stated. “Almost three children now, what is that like?.” James said looking to Harry. “Honestly I don’t think I could had picked a better partner to raise children with. I don’t know how y/n does it all. Together y/n and I have two beautiful daughters with another child on the way. Darcy, our oldest had just turned five last month and Angelique our newly middle child will turn three in two months. They are both keep us on our toes, and are both super sassy, we think they get that from their uncle Louis...” Harry laughs. “But they are truly a blessing to the both of us. They love traveling with us, and are generally well behaved, um they do fight like normal siblings but at the end of the day you can find them cuddled up together on the sofa watching a disney movie, that comes from their uncle Liam” Harry stated looking at you and your children.

“You really give a lot of credit to your wife, you guys have been married for four years now? Where did you find the time to make music and get married and have children?” James questioned. “You’re really going to have me gushing over my family on live tv?” Harry asked smiling at James. “The fans want to know, you guys are pretty private.” James said laughing. “ We did get married in 2020, before covid hit, we found time in between touring, so we’ve been married for 4 years now. “How long had you guys been dating prior to getting married.” James asked. “ 5 years actually believe it or not. I met her back in the start of 2015, I was 21 and she was 18 and the moment I saw her I was head over heels for her. She wasn’t too keen on me however and really made me work to even take her out on our first date.” Harry said looking over as you recalled your first date. “Why didn’t you just walk over to her and say “hello love, I’m Harry Styles, member of one direction one of the worlds biggest boyband...” I mean come on you are super famous. I’m sure that would had won her over.” James laughed. “It might have but I don’t really like to bring fame into my relationships.” Harry said. “So, how did you win over such a gorgeous lady?” James questioned. “I just happened to go on a trolley ride that she was working on that day, it was an amusement park trolley. It was a private ride for the guys and I. Her and her coworker put on this little show, taught us about the history of the park we were at, they got dressed up as different people and sang songs. It was just amazing. Later that day I had asked if she could give me a tour of the park itself and we went on rides, I asked her to come to the concert that night but she declined. I think it was close to 2 months after meeting I asked her on a date to which she turned me down. It was maybe six months into knowing each other that she finally agreed to go on a date with me,” Harry laughed. “SIX MONTHS? Y/N! WHAT WERE YOU DOING TO THIS POOR BOY?” James questioned you. “She was in college and working full time and helping out her family and playing sports... but yes ladies and gentlemen it took me, Harry styles six months to get a first date with y/n. Which was a beautiful picnic and then I...” Harry stopped laughing a bit. “I set up this homemade movie theater type thing later on that night” Harry stated which made the crowd awe once again.

“Did she know who you were?” James asked. “She knew of us because of her sisters being fans but it wasn’t something that made her think “Oh man I need to date this man because he’s in a boyband.” Harry laughed. “Did she meet the other lads speaking of boyband?” James questioned. “She did, she had met them here and there a few times before dating but once we were dating she invited all of them over for a dinner... “ Harry laughed “I remember she made this HUGE dinner because she wanted to make sure everyone had something that they liked to eat and she made a bunch of desserts. She was so nervous that it actually made me nervous just watching her it was like a chicken running around with their head cut off. By the time the boys got there she was covered head to toe in all different types of spices and flour.” Harry finished laughing. You could feel yourself chuckle recalling the event. “The boys went home with a lot of leftovers that night.” Harry said while James and the crowd laughed.

“Anyways...So we were officially dating in June of 2015 and a year passed. We had you know, moved in together basically spent every day together, so November of 2016 that I had asked her to marry me. You know I was feeling really good, I was casted in a movie and my album was nearly finished. I knew that I was going to be going on tour and I wanted her to come with me.” Harry said “I take it that she said yes?” James joked. “No, she waited another six months to give me an answer...” Harry joked back. “No, no she said yes right away. *coughs* so then 2017 my self titled album came out and dunkirk and that was going great y/n had come with me on tour for a bit, but y/n and I had decided to break up only a year after being engaged and it was pretty rough. We thought we were moving too fast, she was still trying to get a degree, I wasn’t really home and our schedules weren’t lining up. So I finished up the tour in 2018 for my self titled album, um y/n and I had reconnected in september of that year after both of us had dated other people. I spent that year writing Fine Line, so that’s what that album is about. But we both agreed that we still had feeling for one another and we wanted to pick up where we left things so we were re-engaged in 2018. Beginning of 2019 Fine line was released and we had also found out that we were expecting our first daughter. We both talked about getting married as soon as we found out about our baby but after a many many long conversations we agreed that we didn’t need to be married before having Darcy but in 2020 we finally tied the knot, we actually waited until Darcy was able to walk so she could be our flower girl. Freddie and Bear both carried the rings down the aisle for us, it was great to have the guys at the wedding. Not long after we were married we found out that we were expecting Angelique.” Harry finished looking at you and smiled. “Wow, so you guys have been together for roughly 9 years, married, 4 albums out and now expecting your third child together. Would you had ever thought that you would be a father?” James asked.

“Oh for sure, I’ve always loved children. While in One direction we had Lux around. All the boys and us are now fathers and it really is something, i wouldn’t change it for the world.” Harry answered. “Any more children after this one?” James asked as Harry looked to you and smirked. “ I think that is up to the misses. I mean, I’m 30 now, she’s 27 with a five and almost three year old and a new baby soon. we still have time if we would want any more children.” Harry finished off the statement.

#Harry Styles #one direction #thoughts #children #harry styles imagine #cute #dad harry styles

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melancholic-pigeon · 3 years

Text

Too Short For Ao3 Fic #3? 4?

SO this is the extended edition of the bonus wip I did with Sally's birthday. The overall fic it belongs to is Extremely Smutty, so I went in and revised out the brief references and I'm posting the family-centric g-rated stuff for anyone who wants that but not the smut! Cough.

Also, I felt bad about missing WIP Wednesday again. Lolsob.

Percy rouses at around eleven PM to a sketch of himself on Jason's pillow. There's a note on the other side.

I wanted to wake you up to say goodbye, but you looked so comfy I didn't have the heart to. your mom's presents are in the bag by my desk. say hi to everyone for me. I'll call tomorrow anyway.

love you to the moon and back.

-J. ❤

Complete with a little red heart. He doesn't even care that the doodle of him next to it, burritoed in a pile of blankets, includes a little spot of drool— he can tell by the rest of his cartoony, ballpoint features that Jason put it in because he thinks it's cute.

(And by the fact that he's said so, several times.)

Percy gathers up his junk. The cornflower blue sweatshirt he steals goes halfway down his fingers. He's come to accept that at six foot three and counting, Jason is the taller of them and always will be— barring some sort of horrible wood-chipper accident or curse from a grumpy deity.

Fortunately, there's something about looking up to meet someone's eyes that Percy finds incredibly attractive. He has since Annabeth outgrew him for the first time in eighth grade.

He heads out in his own jeans and the boxers he packed and the sweatshirt that smells like cinnamon. Once he boards the train, he stands with his arm around a pole and the other holding the bag against his chest, and tries to stay casual and keep the grin off his face.

It's almost midnight when he gets home. His mom, of course, is still awake, so he heads into the living room to greet her.

"My other half says hello."

There's a pile of presents on the coffee table. He puts the bag with the rest of them and sits down, kissing her cheek.

"He didn't have to get me anything." She closes her book and eyes the bag with a fond sigh. "How is he?"

Percy's the same way she is, always happy to do favors and give gifts, but feeling pretty awkward about receiving them. Jason's even worse, the three of them in an ongoing and circular competition to never let any of it go reciprocated.

"Working too hard, as always. Pulling As and winning games and barely sleeping to do it. His stepmother's up his ass and his father's a bully, so, you know, news at eleven." He leans his head onto her shoulder. "That's why he gives you stuff. He's trying to show you how much he appreciates you."

She sighs, and Percy knows it's because she's just as frustrated by the whole thing as he is.

"He knows I appreciate him too, I hope."

"Without a doubt." Percy smiles at her, watching as she goes a little pink and smiles back. "You have a talent for making him feel appreciated."

"He treats my baby like a prince," she says softly. "That's why I appreciate him so much in the first place. How could I do anything else?"

Percy turns his face into her shirt collar, another futile attempt to hide his goofy expression,

"He really does, doesn't he?"

Holding doors, pulling out chairs, offering an arm on unsteady streets. Jason's never laid his coat over a puddle, but Percy's pretty sure he would, if the option presented itself.

His mom starts playing with his hair, her fingers light and familiar.

"I'm just happy you're happy, sweetheart."

He knows that feeling too.

Half asleep from the petting, Percy lets himself be a little babyish. It's after midnight now, which means it's her birthday, and he knows that sometimes she misses when he was Estelle's age and little enough to curl up in her lap. He's way too big for that now, obviously, but he can still slide down the couch and rest his head there.

"You too, Mama."

She looks at him, her eyes misty with emotion and almost green in the light.

She's smiling, too.

She smiles a lot, these days.

—

In the morning, Paul makes coffee while Estelle helps unwrap the avalanche of presents. She's at the age where ripping paper makes her squeal with hysterical laughter, which worms its way into Percy's heart and melts it into pudding.

Several of them are from Percy's friends, including a handbound book of original recipes from Leo, a lovely silver bracelet inset with mother-of-pearl that Beckendorf made himself, and a huge sheathed knife with a matching decorative handle from Clarisse. The last one makes his mom snort as she gets up to put it on the bookshelf, out of reach of curious toddler hands.

"Decorative. Sure."

"I bet she'd teach you how to use it if you asked."

"I know how to use a bowie knife, dear. Your father and I used to catch and cook our own fish when we went camping."

"Which reminds me, he still hasn't taken me out," Paul cuts in, frowning. "I've been saving up dad jokes and embarrassing stories for four years."

"I'll bug him about it the next time we talk," Percy promises. "It's probably the ADHD."

"Do you want me to bug you about bugging him?"

"If you haven't set something up by blueback season, yeah."

Percy and Paul went in on a pound of jasmine tea, which his mom reaches for next. She immediately asks for a cup— it's one of two days out of the entire year where she lets other people wait on her, for a change, and even that took a lot of cajoling.

Paul makes the tea, since Percy usually scalds the leaves and it turns out tasting like grass. She probably wouldn't complain anyway, but it's her birthday, and she deserves to have the best tea that can be made in their kitchen.

"Is the last bag from Jason?" Paul sets the mug on a coaster in the middle of the coffee table, and Percy scoops the baby into his lap so she doesn't try to grab it. She mashes her tiny hand against his cheek.

"And Thalia. I'm not sure if they went in on stuff or he just packed them both in one bag to make it easy."

Either is a possibility. He watches as his mom reaches in and pulls out a large wrapped frame, Thalia's spiky handwriting answering the question.

Whatever's inside, it makes her shut her eyes and exhale deeply through her nose.

"Please pass on that I am absolutely furious."

She turns the frame around. An autographed vinyl EP of Sign O' the Times by Prince— one of the albums Percy grew up on, though she skipped a number of the songs when he was little. Thalia must have spent a fortune on it.

"That woman is incredible," Paul breathes, lightly touching the glass. "How does she get this stuff?"

"See!"

"She has friends in high places." Percy grins as Estelle reaches for the album, and holds her over the glass so she can touch it too. "She's also really good at barter chains."

His mother shakes her head, but he can tell how delighted she is— the two of them have spent hours animatedly talking about music, Thalia hanging on every word and groaning with jealousy over the concerts his mom went to in the eighties.

"I know exactly where I'm going to put it."

Thalia got her a turntable for her fortieth birthday last year, as well as a full set of replacements for every worn-out record in their collection— and had the originals framed too, since they had sentimental value. They're currently occupying the better part of two walls of his mom's study.

There's a blank spot by her bookshelf, right underneath the first copy, that the autographed album will fit into perfectly. Percy grins.

"I'll hang it up for you later."

She doesn't argue. There's only Jason's left, his careful print written out across the same paper Thalia used. The crinkling draws Estelle's attention, and she gleefully reaches over to help tear it off.

Their mom gasps at what's inside and puts a hand to her mouth, her eyes going bright.

It's a watercolor portrait of Percy and Estelle, laughing by the shoreline. She's dressed in a little bucket hat, a ruffled swimsuit patterned to look like a clownfish and the coolest shades in the world— sparkly blue frames shaped like seashells that he kind of wishes he could get in his size. He's in a wetsuit, having spent the morning surfing, and he's holding onto her hands so she can jump at the waves. In the distant background is the Montauk lighthouse.

It's beautifully done, like everything else Jason's ever put to paper, but Percy's never choked up like this over one of them.

"You remember that, Beluga? That was on my birthday, when you came and visited me and Jason at the beach."

"Beach?" she asks, expectant. Paul bursts into laughter, sounding as rough-voiced as Percy feels.

"You're your mother's daughter, sweet pea."

"Beach!" Estelle insists. Percy noses her pudgy cheek.

"It's too cold to swim, baby." His mom's eyes are sparkling, still a little teary. He can see Estelle in the smile on her face. "But we could go for a walk and visit."

"Brunch first." Paul kisses her— Percy averts his eyes, wrinkling his nose at his sister to make her giggle again— and gets up, heading back into the kitchen.

It's a lovely way to spend a late morning. Pale blue araucana eggs courtesy of Grover's new hens, a blueberry coffee cake from Nico by a fantastic hole in the wall in Hell's Kitchen, Paul's signature home fries made with blue potatoes and seasoned to perfection; all of it delicious.

Jason calls while Percy's doing the dishes. After his deep, resonant performance of the happy birthday song, the five of them chat on speakerphone for a little while, though he has to excuse himself pretty quickly to keep banging through his reading.

"Maybe next year," Percy sighs. His mom puts her hand on his hip, then crouches down to help Estelle with her light-up sneakers.

"He's always welcome for a rain check."

"He's always welcome, period," Paul adds. For the second time, Percy gets dangerously close to sniffling.

Montauk is a little far for a day trip, so they head to Brighton Beach instead. Estelle's shrimpy legs get tuckered out more quickly than the grownups' do, so Percy ends up carrying her on his hip, snuggled into his jacket to block the chilly breeze. She points at seagulls, shouting triumphantly every time.

"More bird!"

"That's right. A whole flock of 'em."

They watch for a while as the gulls fight over a discarded pizza crust. Then Percy feels an arm around his back and a head against his shoulder.

"I don't know how I got so lucky," his mother murmurs, barely audible over the rushing of the waves.

Percy's eyes sting.

For most of his life, her birthdays had been spent without fanfare. He was rarely actually there for them anyway, and Gabe complained so much it was easier to just ignore the day and focus on survival instead.

She'd been triaging like that since before she even met his dad, keeping herself afloat when nobody seemed to care if she drowned. It would have been easy to lie down and give up. Percy's pretty sure he would have, in her place.

He turns to hug her with the obligatory proclamation of a Stella Sandwich. He catches Paul's eye over her shoulder, and gets a wide, sentimental grin in response.

"Luck's got nothing to do with it," Percy tells her, leaning his cheek against the top of her head while his sister wriggles with delight between them.

"Listen to our son," Paul adds. "He's very wise, as you raised him to be. This is all on you, honey."

Within moments, she's surrounded by her whole family on all sides, and Percy has another arm around his back, and he's getting a little choked up over it all.

When she first started dating Paul, back when Percy was still in middle school, she'd spent weeks all aflutter. It was the happiest he'd ever seen her at the time. They'd sit outside and work on her car together, and she'd slip into song like a grease-stained fairytale princess without even thinking about it.

Seeing them interact is like cool water on a burn, Paul's devoted kindness soothing a lifetime of sitting back and watching people treat her like dirt. He worships her, just like she deserves and long overdue.

"I love you," she says, tearful and muffled in someone's shoulder. "All of you, more than anything."

"Love Mama," Estelle replies, and that's it— Percy's blubbering.

It'll never undo the damage, but it's about time she got a chance to heal and thrive.

-here in our bed, chapter 7, ~6200 words

#wip wednesday #yes I know don't look at me like that #i wrote this #sally jackson #paul blofis #estelle blofis #family fic #oh lord the cheese

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pollenat · 4 years

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DAY6 and 5 ways to say I love you

JAE

The sound of rain behind an open window. He’s lying next to you, facing the ceiling. You’re too, but your face is slightly tipped to allow you a chance to watch him. Maybe it’s because of worry. Maybe because you feel so much from the sight, your head turns empty. When he sniffles, you turn towards him completely and embrace his chest.

A cake baked without a reason. You didn’t expect it, and he can see it clearly on your face. That only fuels his smile. Jae stands in his apron, proud, happy, wonderful. He almost drops the edible masterpiece when you kiss his cheek. “Not the cake! Anything, but the cake!”

Moments of sheer happiness when you forget everything wrong. You’re laughing like madmen, only fueling one another to continue when the other slows down. It’s a circle of painful jolts, until it’s too much, and you have to push him off the bed to calm down. “Ouch, I think I pulled an ab.”

His kisses tasting of sweet bubblegum. It’s so refreshing and joyful - it matches him perfectly. That’s exactly how you feel in his presence, always awaiting the unexpected, always happy to meet it halfway. Never disappointed.

Being mad when he takes your phone to change the playlist. As much as you adore him, you can’t just ignore the important rule - whoever drives the car, plays the music. DJ Jae doesn’t pay any attention to your complaints, and after what feels like forever, you relent. Only today, but you know there will be more instances like that.

SUNGJIN

Putting out your hand that’s for him to take. One of his eyebrows rises in a questioning manner. A look around, a humored huff, and a soft smile later, he finally grabs your fingers that pull him to a standing position. “Are we going somewhere?” Do you need a reason to hold his hand?

A grill with your friends one cold evening. The wind is unpleasant, its waves reaching for every naked patch of skin available. You’re torn between the desire to escape, and the feeling of obligation to your friends. Then Sungjin calls for you, his arm outstretched for you. Without waiting, you run to sit by his side, face hiding in his neck, legs bending under his knees, hands finding his free one in the pocket of a sweatshirt.

Missing his face when you’re not on speaking terms. You’re watching the screen of your phone, waiting for a message in, or thinking about the one to send out. But as the minutes pass with four clouds left on unread, you fall only deeper into belief that it’s all for nothing. He won’t reply just because you ask him to.

Giving up the last piece of pizza with a small lie. Sungjin doesn’t want to relent, pushing it back in your direction. No matter how much you assure him of being full, he can’t just agree. Eventually, there’s only one way out for him to take - cutting the piece in half.

Your noses nudging one another in a quiet war of who’s more affectionate. Neither of you want to step back, and acknowledge the winner. But that’s alright. You could do it until the end of the world.

YOUNG K

His hands gripping the collar of the coat he put around your body. It’s cold outside, but Younghyun is close, sharing his personal warmth via your pressed chests. The distance is so small, he whispers, and you feel like there’s just the two of you, the surrounding crowd nonexistent.

Covering his face in kisses until he’s smiling again. It’s delicate at first, but he’s just holding it back. Five more, and he’s a goner, mouth widely open, eyes closed from the pressure of his cheeks. The world instantly turns a shade brighter. He wants to turn away from embarrassment. You don’t allow him. “I’m not finished!”

His habit to offer you every snack he has on him. Be it his last piece of mint gum, or a half-eaten chocolate bar, he’ll give it to you. Just because he wants to. “I offered, right? Don’t worry about me. I’d rather have you eating than myself.”

Evenings spent by a kitchen table, radio playing old hits while you take your time stuffing your mouths with takeaway. You’re either talking in small voices, singing along, or eating in silence, enjoying the normality of these moments. It’s your escape. Whenever a day becomes too much for you to handle, you await the evening’s ritual.

Lying in bed, making plans at 2 am, counting down places you want to visit, meals you want to taste, mountain tops you want o reach. You know they may never come true, but there’s something beautiful about sharing your hopes with someone you can trust. That night, when you eventually fall asleep, it’s while you’re thinking about how much the man in your embrace means to you.

WONPIL

The instant realization that something is wrong, when he doesn’t return the embrace. It’s rare for Wonpil to keep hands to himself. Worried, you slightly push him away, but only to have a look at his face. He doesn’t say anything, just allows you to fuss over him. When the time is right, he’ll tell you. For now, you just have to hold him tight.

A smile folding itself on your face when you notice him dressed in your big jumper. Wonpil loves taking your clothes, and you never tell him no, because how could you? Whenever he thinks you’re not paying attention, he sniffs the material, but you always catch the small noise he makes, and then look at him to see content written all over his face.

Pressing a moistened cotton ball down his cheeks. Your fingers then take another one to carefully dab his closed eyes, and relaxed eyebrows. The faux colors disappear to show his real self - small patches of discoloration, moles, scratches. All made for you to appreciate.

Getting ready to leave in the winter when his sweet voice calls for you. Wonpil’s eyes judge your assemble of clothing, and then he shakes his head disapprovingly. “You’ll get a cold! How could you forget your beanie?” He doesn’t wait for your answer, just puts the material on you. There’s no stopping at that, and when he’s done, you have trouble turning your body parts from the amount of layers. “Now you can go. Have a good day!”

The feeling of slim fingers playing with whatever they can find, be it your hair, birth marks, or ears. When he’s finished, he places a kiss in the same spot, as if he had to mark it as his.

DOWOON

Seeing him in bed, napping, when an impossible urge to be as close to him as possible overcomes you. Careful, you slip underneath his arm and a blanket, your head resting on his forearm. It’s uncomfortable, so you move it, eventually waking up the poor guy. Dowoon’s half-opened eyes gaze at you, and instantly close, his arms pulling you closer.

Crouching down when you’re the first to notice his unlaced shoes. He’s instantly alarmed by your movement, calling for you to stand up. His hand awkwardly pats your shoulder, because he knows you won’t listen to his pleas. When you’re done, you stand up quickly, and kiss his cheek. Dowoon’s ears remain red for an hour after.

The afternoons when you come over to watch him practicing. He’s so used to your presence, he doesn’t get embarrassed anymore. Instead you find him smirking whenever he catches you staring. His confidence attracts you only more.

Sharing your favorite songs on a long bus ride. A cacti-shaped divisor for your headphones sticks out from the pocket of his jacket. When you open the palm of your hand, he takes it without thinking. It’s warm, a stark contrast to the cold droplets of rain outside.

Giggling conspiratorially at a house party. Nobody knows what the two of you are about, but the subject is dropped after your stubborn lack of answers. Much later someone finally points out your mismatched socks - both of you with one piece from each pair. “Is it a cute couple thing?” “No, it was a social experiment.” “Okay?”

➛ pollenat’s list of reactions

➛ pollenat’s list of shorts

#kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop fluff #kpop au #day6 imagines #day6 au #day6 reactions #day6 fluff #day6 headcanons #kpop headcanons #day6 scenarios #kpop reactions

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writesowhatnext · 4 years

Text

say you were made to be mine // sirius black

Summary: With the reader’s world turned upside down, what next? Do you follow your heart or your soul?

Request: part 2 of what if we rewrite the stars?

A/N: I wasn’t sure where to go with this (I decided on a hang the dj vibe) but I’m very grateful for people wanting a part 2 :)

Reader: unspecified

Warnings: none I think? I mean kinda sad

part 1 // part 2

“Lil, I don’t know what to do,” you said, rubbing your eyes with your fingers. “Transfiguration is bloody difficult.”

You were sat on the floor of Lily’s room while she lay across her bed, barely paying attention to her parchment in front of her. You were both fawning over your Transfiguration revision, trying not to dwell on NEWTs. She looked at you out the corner of her eye before frowning as her lip twitched unhappily. You knew what she wanted to talk about but that was a kettle of fish you were not willing to open; not with her, not today.

“Y/N,” she began, her tone of voice making you sigh. “You can’t just ignore-“

“I don’t want to talk about this, Lil.”

“You have to do something; talk to someone.”

“It’s none of your business, Lil.”

“What about Sirius? Don’t you care about him at all?”

“Lily,” you insisted, your tone much darker than it had been. She was pushing it too far.

“You can’t just not do anything.”

“I’ll revise somewhere else,” you huffed, grabbing your parchment and leaving before she could say anything else and before you could say something you regretted like how Regulus was your soulmate or how you hadn’t slept more than a couple of hours a night the past few weeks thinking about Sirius. Tears filled your eyes, but you blinked them away; it felt like you’d cried enough in the last month to fill the Pacific twiceover. No more tears, you’d promised yourself. Another promise that couldn’t be kept.

It had been four weeks after Sirius’ birthday, and three days after your spat with Lily, and you’d finally made a decision. Regrettably, Lily was right, you couldn’t just do nothing. And so you decided that it was high time to tell Regulus. You knew he would be at quidditch practice and you were determined to face him. The whole walk there, you’d been rehearsing in your head trying to figure out the words you would say.

“Hi, Regulus. You know me, I’m dating your brother; well I was until I found out you’re my soulmate. The fun thing is I might not be yours! Because soulmates hurt like that.”

Perhaps that wasn’t the best option.

You considered just showing him; he was a pure-blood afterall, he knew what soulmates were. Was that fair? Was any of this fair? You were so caught up in your thoughts you barely recognised the quidditch pitch, almost tripping where the stone floor met the grass.

Looking over at the field, it was easy to find Regulus because he looked almost exactly like Sirius and your heart ached a little at the resemblance. All of your determination and planning went out the window as you watched him and your feet wouldn’t carry you any further. So, you stood there on the Quidditch field, just staring at him. He was laughing and joking with his friends and for a moment he just looked so young. You could hear his laughter, despite him being so far away, and your breath caught in your throat at the musical sound. It was just like Sirius’. Your mind wandered a little, thinking about why you hadn’t noticed how similar they were before. Maybe it’s because you had Sirius then. Now all you had were memories and a horrible pain in your chest.

You bit your lip as you watched him push and shove and play with his teammates and although he was only a couple years younger, at that moment, you felt older than you ever had. You couldn’t destroy his life; you couldn’t take away the years he had left without being burdened by the reality of a soulmate. You needed him to have more time to romanticise and dream. With a sigh, you pressed your hand to your forehead. He waved at you, finally seeing you across the pitch. His face lit up and his cheeks stretched with the weight of his boyish smile and you couldn’t help the guilt that came over you. You realised, with a reluctance and relief you only felt guiltier for, you could never love him like you loved Sirius. Still, with a heavy hand and heavier heart, you waved back. He turned around to face his friends then, people you recognised from Slytherin as pure-blood supremacists and supporters of Voldemort, and more than anything you wanted to protect him from that, but it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough – you could never love him like you should.

With your vision blurring with unshed tears, you tore back to your room and cleaned off your desk with a single swooping motion, your inkpots toppling to the floor. You couldn’t question the morality of what you were doing as you began to write, your quill scratching against parchment, because if you did, you’d end up doing nothing. You already knew how awful that felt, Lily’s voice in your head reminded you.

You read and reread the letter about a thousand times. From the ‘Dear Regulus’ to the ‘Please forgive me’, it wasn’t right but you figured that it would never be completely. And so, with a shaking hand, you addressed the letter to Kreacher, the Black family’s house-elf whom Sirius held a firm mistrust for, with a note begging him to give the letter to Regulus on his eighteenth birthday. It didn’t take long to get to the owlery and once you’d sent the letter, a strange calmness came over you. With a new, strangely light feeling in your chest, you walked to the Gryffindor common room, a place you’d avoided completely for weeks.

You didn’t even reach the room itself before you found what, or rather who, you were searching for. Climbing from the portrait hole like a man deflated was Sirius. He didn’t see you as he walked the other way, his shoulders sunken.

“Sirius!” you shouted with your voice far too loud for such a small corridor. After so long on auto-pilot, it felt like your body was unprepared for whatever strong emotions talking to Sirius again would stir. He turned quickly. He didn’t speak as you sped down the hallway to meet him, his eyes wet as you stopped in frotn of him.

“I want to be us again,” you said. Your stomach flopped as you looked at his face. It felt like forever since you’d seen him and you were struck by how much you’d missed his dark eyes and high cheekbones. He shook his head.

“You know we can’t do that-“

“We can; we don’t have to be defined by what’s written on our skin. We could just be us - like muggles do. They never know who their soulmate is, they’re never sure, but they love anyway.”

“We are sure, Y/N.”

“I’m not.”

You were breathing slightly heavier now, your emotions getting the better of you as you stared up at Sirius. How could someone be so familiar yet so unfamiliar?

“Just because some stupid universal force says something’s true, doesn’t mean I believe it,” you frowned, surprised and hurt by his reaction. “Since when have you cared about authority?”

“This is different. My brother-“

“Your brother will be fine,” you lowered your head, the guilt returning. “I’ve made sure of it.”

“Y/N-“

“Sirius, please. I want you. I want to choose you every day of our lives, just like muggles.”

He bit his lip, turning away slightly.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“Sirius, you promised.” you insisted as he began to back away. “Us against the world. Soulmates be dammed. You said that, and you swore.”

He turned to walk away as tears began to roll down your cheeks. “You swore on the stars.”

After he walked away that day, your shoulders felt heavy with the overwhelming feeling that you would never truly be loved. You’d pre-emptively turned away your soulmate, sure he could never be truly happy with you, and you’d lost the one person you wanted more than anything. And now there was nothing left. You were grateful, though, that it was the weekend so you could stay in bed, curled up and alone, praying for the world to go away. You didn’t have any more tears left to cry and you were tired of being tired.

That’s why when someone knocked at your door, you made no effort to answer it. When they knocked again, you hid your head under your pillow. The third knock made you huff, annoyed that someone would be looking for your roommates so urgently when they weren’t even there, annoyed that someone had interrupted your pity party for no reason. The last person you expected to see when you opened the door was Sirius.

He was dishevelled, noticeably so, with messy hair and a strange determination in his eyes. You frowned, hand tightening around the doorknob as he pushed past you, into your room.

“I was wrong,” he said, exhaling sharply as he paced back and forth. “I was so wrong.”

You swallowed, eyes widening as he came closer. His large palms reached up to cup either side of your face and for a second, you couldn’t breathe his gaze was so intense.

“It was always supposed to be us against the world, I’m so sorry.”

You nodding, biting your lip, unable to trust your voice. He looked out the window, blinking away tears before sitting on your bed. His hands trailed down your face to reach your own. He held them tightly, your fingers gripping onto him as he pulled you to sit too.

“Y/N, I want to love you every day. And it’ll be my choice - nothing to do with the universe. Sod the universe.”

His face softened slightly.

“You’ve always been the stars in my sky.”

You discovered then that you were wrong. You did, in fact, have more tears left to cry. As droplets began to roll down your cheeks, Sirius pulled you into his chest and you realised how much you’d missed his arms around you, how safe you felt there. You didn’t know what to say when you pulled back. His eyes were red and shining and his hands were on your waist and for the first time in a long time, you felt as if you’d made the right choice.

“Like muggles, yeah?” you asked, looking up at him.

“Like muggles.”

He moved his hand away from you and you watched with confused eyes as he pulled a sharpie from his robes.

“Lily gave me this,” he began, showing you. “It’s a pen.”

You couldn’t help the amused, borderline incredulous, exhale that rushed from your lips at his words.

“I know what a pen is.”

“Oh,” he blinked, frowning, tone flippant. “Of course, you do.”

Slowly, he pulled up his sleeve, exposing the bare skin where his soulmate tattoo should’ve been. Your chest tightened at how distraught he’d been on his birthday so many weeks ago and your frown deepened as he uncapped the pen with his mouth, bringing the tip to his skin. You reached over to place your hand on his, stilling his movement.

“No,” you said, taking the pen off him and rolling up your own sleeve. You looked at the name ‘Regulus Black’ for a second before the sharpie touched your skin and, with Sirius watching you, you crossed out the cursive letters with a solid black line.

“Now we both don’t have soulmates,” you smiled up at him, his eyes shining with happiness you hadn’t seen in a while. Happiness you’d missed seeing on his handsome features. He watched as you gently took the pen lid from his mouth, his eyes full of emotion.

“Y/N,” he said, swallowing a lump in his throat. “I meant it when I said it would always be us against the world. You know that?”

His mouth twitched nervously and his dark eyebrows drew down ever so slightly and you realised in that moment that you could never love anyone in the same way you loved him. Reaching over, your sleeve still scrunched at your elbow, you squeezed his hand and smiled. And that was enough for him.

#writing #imagine #sirius black #Sirius Black imagine #sirius black x reader #harry potter #Harry Potter imagine

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purplerose244 · 3 years

Text

Belonging

Here again for the @toa-secret-santa of this year! So happy to participate again, I love these events! 😍😍 Hello @spellcasterdouxie, I’m your secret santa! Merry Christmas and festivities, hope you like my present! ❤

Summary: In which being stuck in New York to protect a magical being and save the world in the process is no excuse for not celebrating Christmas with your friends.

Also on AO3

So… Nari was a terrible liar.

Extremely powerful being, the purest pretty soul, but horrible at lying.

Douxie didn’t have the slightest idea of what she was plotting, granted that she used to be part of an evil congregation of wizards that wanted to take over using an ancient artifact – meh, like that was the weirdest coming from his friends –, but he was fairly sure that her claim regarding the leaking sink of the bathroom was some sort of decoy.

Did that convince him to ignore those big adorable puppy eyes?

“It looks good to me, but I’m gonna give it a double check just in case!”

“Thank you Douxie, much appreciated! Please make sure everything is working, do not overlook a single thing!” Absolutely not. He was a master wizard, not a beast.

Their little apartment was neither pretty nor particularly clean. Which considering the little money he accumulated over the years with all of his jobs back in Arcadia and given the fact that they were in New York City, was kind of a given. But it had a perfectly functional bathroom, basically a gift from above, or some kind of karma retribution from putting up with three different apocalypses in the same summer – and he had all suspicions that another one was coming, but possibly another season. That being said, he wasn’t sure why with her plant like appearance, Nari with all people was so interested into their sink. Besides maybe for spraying a bit of water over her head – one very curious and endearing scene really, like a pot plant watering itself.

Then again, he wasn’t completely sure why he was going along with it instead of asking directly what was this all about. Maybe he liked to study whatever thought somehow as peculiar as her could come up with. Maybe there was nothing else of particular interest to do while waiting for his mac and cheese to be ready… maybe that little nightmare of his from last night got him a little too down, and doing anything but think about it was a better solution than most. And it was a pretty annoying maybe, because dreams about his master were as common as breathing lately.

He thought he was over it. It was probably too soon… hopefully he was at least getting closer to the not too soon part of it.

One long silence followed, from which he was fairly sure he had heard a few whispers a little lower than Nari’s light tone. Great, what now? Was she actually plotting something?

“Is everything okay over there? Arch? Nari?”

“Fine, everything is fine! Keep checking please!”

“Are you serious?” Okay now it was ridiculous. “Nope, I’m getting over there, and you two better not be up to no good!” They were a surprisingly compatible pair, especially since his familiar had made it his mission to teach her the marvel of pranks – she wasn’t even malicious about it, that made it all even more devious somehow. Douxie left the wrench on the ground, getting out of the bathroom and towards the living room. “You all keep forgetting that I’m the master wizards here, so technically I’m in charge, so if you’re scheming something- Whoa, Mordrax’s miracles!”

The last thing he had expected, after leaving their lonely living room that was made of four faded walls with a random kitchen connected to it, was to get back to it completely transformed into a messy, happy Christmas themed little chamber.

Filled with very familiar faces.

“Merry Christmas, Teach!” Claire almost knocked him off his feet with that hug. She looked radiant, all wrapped up in one big purple sweater with ‘Feeling Wicked Sassy’ written on it – appropriate. Behind her Steve, Toby and Archie were all smiling.

“Sorry, you would not leave the house,” Nari looked all cozy and a little guilty in that big mint green sweater – with ‘Every Day is Green Day’ written on it, where did she get that? –, waving at him. “And it felt like claiming we were being attacked by Skrael and Bellroc was a bit excessive.” Thank goodness his roommate and protegee had some common sense – considering his latest adventure, more than him for sure.

Claire giggled, shrugging innocently.

“We honestly hoped you were that bad of a plumber and would give us more time…”

Douxie snickered, because this was ridiculously endearing and he loved it all already.

“Too bad I’m not completely hopeless.”

“Could’ve fooled me!” Steve, it was Steve, not even worth turning around to recognize him. But a random fist bump, that much he could concede – especially with that massive blue sweater ‘Silent Knight, Holey Knight’ he had on, like really what was even that. “Ready to have the best time of your life?”

The master wizard arched an eyebrow.

“Said from you? Should we call the firefighter in advance? Or the police?” The blonde pouted very dramatically, Claire snickered. He had really missed these two. “Wow, this place looks amazing! The landlord can’t see this or she will force me to pay more for the rent.” His wallet was already gasping enough for breath and money. “All this stuff, all the decorations… is this beef?” Ah, that was why it all felt like such a sudden change, this paradisiac scent had definitely not been here before. “It smells delicious!”

“Thank you!” Second shock of the day, but Douxie could hardly blame himself considering the most time he had spent around Jim had been during his huge troll moments – he kinda looked like a twig now in comparison. “I’m pretty well known for my festive feasts.”

“Also known as festeasts!” Toby showed one enthusiastic victory sign, pulling off his orange ‘Rockin’ This Christmas’ with plenty of little gems and stones all around – the forever geologist.

Jim rolled his eyes with a grin.

“Tobes we’re not calling them that.” The Warhammer holder frowned, only to beam when he got handed a spoon for a taste. “I made most of this from home so it’s all ready and warm, but I wanted to make something on the place while I was at it. Freshly made food tastes way better on Christmas.” Toby hummed around the spoon, smacking his lips, then he rubbed his fingers together towards the chef, who caught it as to add more salt.

Douxie couldn’t help but scoot closer, peaking inside. That looked like food. That looked like real, delicious, extremely well-made food.

“What in the world, how did you make that?” Jim snorted.

“You moved on without much of a comment from me turning into a half-troll, a full troll and then back to a human, and this surprises you?”

“My friend, there were Thai leftovers, one instant ramen, an onion and an egg left in the fridge so yes, this surprises me!” All speculations died when he was offered a taste too. “… so it turns out I know nothing of magic. I must bow to the real master wizard here.” If happiness had a flavor it had to be this one. The former trollhunter snickered, giving him a little elbow before going back over his creations. And if the most classic ‘kiss the chef’ apron on him wasn’t already extremely fitting, the cyan sweater underneath reciting ‘I’m In The…’ on the back barely left to the imagination what list was written on the front.

A very well-deserved sign, really.

“Buttsnack’s managed to make these too, take a look!” Steve waved at the little counter that was the only thing remotely looking like a table in this place. And smelling just as heavenly as everything else, there they were, mince pies, just like the ones from Camelot. “But I don’t know if they’re as good because someone slaps my hand every time I- OUCH!! I didn’t even try this time!”

Archie’s tail could be surprisingly useful as a whip, in fact.

“You were thinking about it! So don’t, these are for later.” And wow, if his most loyal companion wasn’t absolutely adorable wearing that little red sweater – ‘Santa Paws’, he was going to complain about it all day long. Douxie wished he hadn’t left his phone in the bathroom. “We’re still waiting for the tree, the last decorations and the music. But we’re almost ready.” So apparently his familiar had been behind all of this. That actually made perfect sense.

Of course this little wizard associate had known this was going to do him good. It was the kind of bond that came with being around each other for over 900 years.

Archie smiled at him, and Douxie couldn’t not grin in return.

“Can’t wait for them! Even thought I did have some when we had that travel… well technically ages ago, we were actually in Camelot, but it wasn’t- Ah forget it, time loops are too confusing.” There was a consensual groan including all of them but Toby and Nari, who just looked at each other and shrugged. “Well, this is awesome, how did you even get everything here so fast?” On second thought, that was more than just bizarre. His eyes crossed Claire’s right away. “You get so tired with transportations through the Shadow Realm usually, and you got to bring along all of these people and decorations?” The thing was, this wasn’t supposed to be possible. Another thing was, Lady Claire of house Nunez was so insanely talented it would had not surprised him.

The girl waved her hand in denial.

“I wish I was at that level, but no. Still, we did travel back and forth pretty quickly.”

“Without magic? How?”

“I should take offense from that highly questioning tone.” Third shock, his poor heart – he came back from the grave once, and he really didn’t recommend it. He was fairly sure the apartment he had rented didn’t include interdimensional portals opening in the middle of the living room. “And from the fact that you humans keep forgetting I invented a perfectly functioning wormhole generator. But please, continue with your predicaments, ignore the scientific feat I’ve accomplished!” For an alien that barely understood human sarcasm, Krel Tarron was made a whole half of it.

As he walked in from the portal, holding one edge of a box filled with Christmas balls, on the other side Zoe stepped in carrying along the rest. And between a black ‘I’m Back, Witches’ sweater and a gray ‘DJ Kleb’ one with four sleeves, it was one curious and fantastic view.

“Yeah yeah, you bent the rules of physics, congratulations!” Zoe’s tense tone implied that she must had heard that complain already. “Stop talking and get working, I’m going the extra mile here!”

“This doesn’t sound like a good time to have a walk.”

“For the love of…!” The pink haired girl let out a muffled scream, let go of her edge of the box – lucky for Krel to have four arms to catch it – and jumped over the master wizard to grab his shoulders. “I hate you so much, you left me alone dealing with all of these new knuckleheads! Like the local dummies weren’t enough!” The collective offended ‘Hey!’ coming from both the Akiridion and the village’s idiot – a marvel that Steve actually responded, fully aware of his status as knucklehead – was somehow even more endearing than funny.

Meanwhile Zoe was still wrinkling his favorite jacket, frowning aggressively at him like the fact that he was out there saving the world was unforgivable – you could say anything about this pink head, but not that she didn’t have priorities.

Douxie snickered, easing the hold onto him.

“Sorry for trying to give my friends a place to live in this crazy wild world, then!”

“… apologies accepted.” Zoe narrowed her eyes. “But only if we finally hunt for niffins and get those forsaken burgers after you did the deed. I’m calling dibs on you.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Besides, you owe me. I didn’t snitch and told that Hex Tech got annihilated and we’re in need of new personnel because someone needed to hide from the big bad villains.” Those blue gems were screaming not to mess this offer up, because it was certainly not going to come back.

Even with a pressure like that, in some way inside of him, Douxie felt freed of a little weight. Despite the distance and everything that had happened, some things stayed the same. So he quite happily held up his fist, smirking at the girl.

“Alright, as soon as this is over with. Deal.” Zoe glared at him a few more seconds. Then she nodded, and finally bumped their knuckles together.

With a thud Krel finally put the box down, sighing soundly.

“Thanks Seklos this is done. I believe we are only missing the dead tree that will be then covered in artificial garnishments as a form of apparent belittlement of nature.” He stayed still for a few seconds, mindlessly throwing a little sphere on the ground that divided in four pieces, generating a portal. “… I feel like I’m getting so accustomed with humans’ savageness that I’m even quite looking forwards to it. Especially for that useless invention called ‘tree’.” He snickered, getting inside the wormhole that disappeared as soon as he was in.

Luckily the impossible dimensional gateway appeared of not leaving any trace behind. And luckily the creature – or elf, demigod, Nari was still a bit of a mystery – most connected to the nature that had just been denigrated was way more interested in whatever chef wiz Jim Lake Jr. was preparing.

“You knubhead, I just told you not to!” Archie’s spiteful voice came along, as apparently Steve had managed to take advantage of the situation – a scientific miracle happening in front of them, fair enough – to finally get himself a mince piece. Only to get slapped to the ground. “That’s it, until these cool down you’re getting nowhere near! Douxie, out with me, we need to guard the treasure!” That was some attachment for one tray of soft and delicious little pastries.

Douxie shrugged and complied, picking up the meal under the jock’s renovated pout and heading to the balcony. The chilling air got to his nose right away, but he endured, appreciating just the tiniest breath. There was barely space for once person there.

Well, one person and his familiar. He placed the tray on the railing, making sure it didn’t fall.

“How did Jim even get the recipe?” Archie grinned.

“Well, apparently his troll friends did remember a certain meal very appreciated by humans from back then, but they have their own idea on how to make it. I don’t know the details, but I certainly know it involves socks. Plenty of socks.”

“… you want to see Steve’s reaction to them later.”

“I want to see Steve’s reaction to them later with all the others. Christmas is supposed to be a family festivity, right?” His grin disappeared right after. “So… it didn’t sound like you were sleeping too well last night.” Yep. He knew. Of course he knew. He would had even if he didn’t have to habit of sneaking into his bed to get warm. “Something you’d like to talk about?”

Douxie breathed out, gently buffing his fluffy ear.

“I’m fine Arch, not need to get all sensible on me. It was one of the usuals.” He tried a weak smile, not really feeling like keeping everything in. Not with so many people inside, on this particular day. “… you know, thinking it now, somehow it was easier celebrating Christmas on the streets back in Camelot. Getting something good to eat, have fun, that was enough. Considering how tense was everyone in the Pendragon castle it’s not much of a surprise, but still… I wonder if Merlin ever had a proper Christmas in there.” He sighed. “He certainly didn’t while I was around.” The noisy streets of Camelot overlapped NYC’s busy ones. He swallowed a lump into his throat.

That legendary town was such a faraway place right now, coming back from a single memory was a slap from reality. Douxie shivered, taking in a freezing breath, gasping when Archie jumped over his shoulder and curled all around his neck. His fur was nice and warm.

“We have no way of knowing. But one thing’s for sure, that old man got a surprising, unexpected present in any case.” Archie smiled, eyeing him softly. “One very sneaky, very foolish, very brave apprentice.” They had been there, the both of them. And in any possible way, in the good, the bad, and the best, he had found a life to call that way. The one Merlin had asked him about.

The master wizard smiled, snuggling his cheek against his loyal friend.

It didn’t take long, the winter air acted like a freezer over the little pies. But as they went back in, the place had already changed – and that was besides AAARRRGGHH!!, with one gigantic hat on his head, holding up the tree while Blinky, wearing a scarf, was reading a manual on how to decorate it, where did he even get that? –: there was a table, appeared again out of nowhere, with all the most delicious looking dishes placed all over between branches of holly and little bells. Jim and Nari were putting down the last dishes, Steve was clumsily getting the statue of a reindeer to balance over the tv, Toby was checking the lights to make sure they were functioning.

And Claire was suddenly in front of him, beaming, clearly hiding something from behind her back. It immediately grabbed everybody’s attention, like it was some sort of event.

Was it?

“We’ve organized the present exchange for after lunch, but this one you need to put it on now. So, her it is!” She uncovered the secret and- Oh. It was a sweater. It was a sweater. For him. “There you go, you’re officially part of the wool club, a Christmas-limited association only.”

“Founder of the association Nancy Domzalski, mostly because it was Nana who made them all!” Toby caressed the front of his sweater, smiling softly. “She’s that kind of grandma that thinks that everything that’s made with love can bring warmth, and I’m kind of a believer too.” He shrugged, crossing his fingers behind the back of his head. “I know this isn’t your cool punk rock wizardy style, but Nana had her midlife crisis in her own time and I’m not exactly looking forward to one before my very own eyes!” That was probably not a sight a grandchild wanted of their grandma, that was understandable.

It was. It was, right? It was getting a little hard to focus on something, anything that wasn’t a soft bundle of black and navy blue stripes, welcoming and warm, with ‘Fuzzbuckets’ written on it. It was getting weird. A little unsettling even, because he just got out in the cold but his bones weren’t freezing anymore and he felt all fuzzy inside and now his eyes were warm and-

“… oh, curse me, not the waterfalls…!” Centuries spent transitioning from hopeless bard to punk rock guitarist, only to tear up at a random surprise Christmas party.

From there, he didn’t understand much. Only Claire’s probable ‘Aww Douxie!’, Toby’s sudden ‘There’s no Christmas without the sad moment’, Steve’s surprising ‘I know what to do, come on everybody, let’s all hug it out!’. And all of the sudden he was enveloped with so many arms, so many different people he had gotten to know and had managed to befriend and appreciate. That were part of his world, his life, and what was coming for the future.

So when he managed to open his eyes, there was so much to uncover, between a pink head, a scarred eyebrow, a lock of leaves and a paw still so close to his cheek. And it hit him that perhaps there was a reason why Camelot had always felt so far away lately.

That age was over. But this, it felt like it had only begun. Douxie smiled, closing his eyes again.

Embracing how good it felt to belong again.

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calif0rnia-lovers · 4 years

Text

Tell Me What to Do.

Don't wanna leave, I just wanna be here by your side You make me feel and believe that we in paradise

summary: when Connie begged Javi to join her and Steve on a double date, he didn’t think much of it. he did it because he couldn’t say no to Connie, not because he was looking for a relationship. fast forward four months, and he’s in deep and you’re heading back to the states.

a/n: haven’t posted in forever but this came to me. you can thank pedro pascal's face for this one. smut with a side of plot?

words: 6K

“Fuck-”

The knock on the door has caused you to jump. It is also responsible for the knife in your hand slicing into your finger, and the stream of blood now trickling onto the cutting board. Dropping the knife onto the counter, you quickly cross the kitchen towards the sink.

Holding your finger beneath the water, you roll your eyes as the knocking on your apartment door continues. You don’t bother yelling a response. You know who it is.

Only one person could make a casual knock seem as though he has the intent of knocking the door down.

Turning off the water, you hastily dry your hand instinctively placing your bleeding thumb in your mouth.

The knocking continues as you cross the room. You attempt to stand on your toes to see through the peephole. Although you can only think of one man who will show up at your past nine o’clock, you can never be too careful. Only, you’ve never been able to see out the peephole without your heels. Giving up, you unlock the door.

Taking note of the dark brown eyes, and raised eyebrows, you pull the door open enough for Javier to peek over your shoulder.

“You got someone in there?” He nods over your shoulder and into your apartment.

Glancing over your shoulder, you lightly shrug your shoulder, the action causing his brow to furrow. You cross your arms over your chest. The urge to smile tugs at your lips as a slight tension sets into his jaw at your response. Although, Javier Pena is great at keeping his cool you know him well enough to catch the flick of his eyes as they briefly drift over your shoulder.

“So what if I do?” You tease, the action causing Javi’s eyes to return to your face.

“Then I got this beer for nothing,” he responds, lifting the six-pack in his hands.

You shrug for a second time, your hand resting against the door frame preventing him from stepping around you to enter.

“If you ever thought to call before just showing up at my apartment, you wouldn’t have to worry about someone else being here.”

Javi’s eyes roll at your remark. A smile spreads across his lips as you hold your stance.

“I’m serious, Javi. Stop showing up at my door, banging like it’s a fucking raid. You make my neighbors think you’re about to kick the door down.”

“It is part of my job description,” he chuckles as your eyes roll.

Dropping your arm, you step aside and motion for him to enter.

Javier steps inside, his eyes scanning your apartment. He listens to the lock sliding back into place. The music playing softly across the room, paired with the smell of a late dinner simmering on the stove lets him know it’s just the two of you here.

Ever since Steve teased him that you might be looking elsewhere for “company” after Javier disappeared for three weeks he couldn’t get the thought out of his head.

The apartment, itself, was nearly bare. In your time apart, you had nearly packed up the entire place. Boxes were neatly stacked against the front wall, notes written neatly across the sides.

You rest your back against the door, watching as Javier silently takes in the changes. Whatever he is thinking, he doesn’t share it. Instead, he turns to face you.

He lets his eyes study your face for a moment, his expression unreadable. His gaze passes over your entire body, from head to toe. You find your weight shifting from your right foot to the left, your fingers self consciously toying with the hem of the t-shirt you wear. You knew the reaction was stupid. Javier has seen you in less, more times than you can count, but you can’t deny the heat slowly creeping across your skin. You hadn’t expected company, so the t-shirt was all you bothered throwing on after returning home and showering.

He waits until his dark eyes have returned to yours to speak. His brows furrowed.

“That my shirt.”

“Oh…” Your own brow furrows at the statement. It wasn’t what you were expecting him to say. After nearly three weeks of speaking, you were hoping your first face to face conversation would hold more...substance? “Is it?”

Interestingly enough, it is his t-shirt. One from Javier’s college days.

The maroon shirt is faded, the ink slowly seeping away with each wash. The Texas A&M University logo was no longer white, it was more a dull grey. There is a hole, the size of his thumb, on the right shoulder where the stitching has begun to come loose. The hem you’re absentmindedly attempting to pull further down towards your thighs has threads that need cutting.

In all honesty, Javier forgot that you had. So had you.

It was in his car the day he picked you up from work.

Your piece of shit car was on its last leg and refused to start after you had worked a double shift at the hospital. Normally, you would have sucked it up and walked the way home, but it was pouring out. Colombian weather is not something you plan on missing when you return to Miami.

His alma mater t-shirt was in the back seat, along with his bag for work. He’d offered it to you when you reached his car, your entire outfit soaked through.

Javier’s head tilts to the side as he steps in your direction.

You find your spine instinctively straightening beneath his gaze. Your arms cross over your chest, the look in his eyes reminding you that your bra is still in your room.

Stopping in front of you, Javier reaches forward. His finger toys with the thread hanging above your left thigh. A soft smirk rests on his lips as your gaze studies his face.

“It is.”

Javier’s eyes lift to yours, his tongue passing over his lips as his gaze drifts down to your mouth. He knows he is close enough to duck down to kiss you. He would be lying if he tries to say that’s not the true reason for his arrival.

“What?” Your brow arches. “And you want it back?”

Your words cause him to smile.

“I hadn’t given it much thought,” he smiles, his shoulder-shrugging softly. His gazes drift back down to your mouth, causing you to bite your lip. “but now...I think I might actually want it back.”

“Okay.”

His right-hand slips from the hem to your leg. The cool metal of his keys blazes against the heat of your skin. Guiding the fabric up towards your waist, Javier smiles as you swat his hand away.

“What? Now?”

Ducking down, Javier closes the distance between your lips. A soft breath of relief passes from his mouth to yours.

He’d thought about what he’d do to you upon your reunion for the past couple of weeks. Having to help Carrillo out meant he was away from home. Most importantly, you.

He was almost certain there would be no exchange of words. In fact, he’d thought you’d both be in bed by now. But now, with his lips against yours, the only thing he can think about is how much he missed kissing you.

The kiss is soft and playful. It holds no sense of urgency. He allows the warmth of his lips to draw goosebumps across the surface of your skin. He kisses you until he feels your fingers toying with the hair resting at the nape of his neck. Pulling back, he smiles as you reluctantly open your eyes.

You bite your lip. A soft breath leaves your lips.

“Was that supposed to make me give it back now?”

Javier smiles, his lips brushing against yours for a second time.

“Depends,” he chuckles. “Did it work?”

The slight shake over your head brushes your nose against him, his lips instinctively closing the distance to meet yours for a third time.

This time, his softness is gone. His tongue teases your lips, expertly slipping into your mouth the moment you grant him access. His hips shift against yours in a way that will cause you to cave if he can kiss you for a few more seconds.

The case of beer in his left, and his keys still in his right, prevent Javier from letting his hands make taking off both of your clothes a quicker task.

He releases a groan of protest as you turn out of his kiss, his lips having to settle for your neck. Your eyes flutter shut as his tongue teases the soft skin.

“Te extrañé, mía,” he mumbles as his lips press a final kiss against the crook of your neck.

“I know you did.”

A soft scoff escapes his lips as Javier rests his hand against the door behind you. Your hands instinctively fall to his waist as his stance eliminates any personal space.

A soft smile finds his lips as his eyes find yours. They say what his mouth isn’t willing to.

I mean it.

“I was cooking,” you say quietly, your eyes drifting over his shoulder towards the kitchen.

“When you said you were hungry, I took it another way,” he smiles, the last of his sentence coming out muffled against your lips.

“So....” Allowing him to steal another kiss, you bring your hands up his chest to rest on his shoulders. “If you wanna eat something that’s not burned to hell...you’re gonna have to keep your dick in your pants.”

Allowing his head to fall against the crook of your shoulder, Javier groans for a second time tonight. Taking a deep breath, he inhales your scent.

Gently pushing against his shoulders, you smile “I knew you could do it,” before slipping from between him and the door.

Rolling his neck, Javier allows his eyes to follow you across the room and disappear out of view. Kicking off his shoes, Javi follows you around the corner into the kitchen. Resting against the entryway, he admires the fabric of his t-shirt, and how it falls differently on you and your curves.

You stand on your toes, retrieving a second bowl and glass from the cabinet. Turning, you smile as you find him watching you. Placing them on the counter next to your bowl, and a half-empty glass of wine, you find your eyes finding him again.

“It just looks fucking good on you.”

You lightly roll your eyes, the gesture not enough for him to know his words have set a heat across your skin.

You feel a smile forming, your teeth coming down to stop it in its tracks. Instead of giving him what he wants, you allow yourself to concentrate on retrieving a clean knife from the drawer.

You wait until your heart has returned to normal to speak softly.

“Why are you here, Javier Peña?” You continue cutting the peppers you were tackling before his arrival. Suddenly, you are glad to have something to distract your mind and hands. “And please don’t say ‘to get my shirt back.”

Javier smiles to himself.

“Truthfully, I came to say “you should’ve joined me and Steve tonight.”

“That’s it? It could’ve waited till morning.”

He knew it could’ve. He didn’t have to drive all the way across town to tell you that. Especially not at nine-thirty at night.

Earlier, in the evening, Javier had called to ask if you wanted to join him and Steve for a night out, and you’d declined.

“I’m hungry, Javier,” you’d responded when he’d asked why not.

“Okay,” he shrugged when slipping his jacket from the back of his desk chair. “There’s food at the bar.”

“Yeah, but I’m not hungry for that. It’s fine. Maybe another time. Plus, I gotta pack.”

Thinking back over your conversation from earlier causes Javi’s gaze to shift into the living room. The lively decorated area was not just bare walls and boxes. It wasn’t...you. It was already ready for the next tenant. And you, your new life. One that didn’t involve him.

He looks over the half-packed boxes, his eyes resting on the sofa. The same sofa he spent many nights buried between your thighs on when he claimed he was coming over to innocently watch tv. It was now pressed back against the far wall, wrapped up and ready to be carried away.

“Javi?”

Glancing over at you, Javier can tell from the look on your face this is not the first time you’ve called his name.

“Huh?”

“You can put the beer in the fridge.” You smile before turning back to the stove.

Nodding, Javier steps inside into the kitchen. He tosses his keys aside and focuses on removing his jacket. Draping it across the surface, he removes a couple of beers before crossing the kitchen to house the rest in the fridge.

He stops along your side, his hand instinctively reaching for one of the freshly cut peppers

“No,” swatting at his hand, you giggle as he lets his hands find your waist.

He pauses to kiss your neck, softly. You shrug, in an attempt to shake him off but he simply guides your waist back to meet his. Javier knows well enough that if you’re kind enough to feed him when he’s shown up unannounced he has two options. Help cook, or stay in the background. The exhaustion from the day causes him to choose the latter. Kissing your skin a final time, he allows his arms to wrap around your waist.

He stays that way, arms around your waist as you cook. His body moves with yours, hands leaving you long enough to allow you to retrieve whatever you need from the fridge or the pantry before returning to your waist.

“How’s everything at work?” You ask after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

He shrugs into you.

“Still haven’t caught the fucking bastard,” he mumbles against your hair.

It may not be as sunny as “great, how about you” but it is enough to know nothing too crazy has happened since the last time you’ve seen him. If it had, you’d been having a different interaction.

The two of you eat, on the floor in the living room, heads resting against the wall. Shoulder to shoulder. His fingers occasionally brush against your thigh, each time pulling a smile to his lip as you attempt to move out of his reach. You’re seated next to the open window allowing the sounds from below fill the empty silence anytime your voices die out.

Javi’s uncharacteristically quiet.

He avoids questions directed towards work, forcing the topic to be you. He wants to know what he’s missed in his absence. Trying to gauge if your mind has changed about leaving Colombia to return to the states.

You lightly bump his shoulder with yours causing him to roll his head so that he can glance over at you.

“Hmm?”

You wait until his gaze meets yours to ask the question that’s been on your mind since his arrival. Although you haven’t seen each other in a while, Connie still felt it necessary to give you daily updates about Javier. Intel shared with her courtesy of her husband, Steve. But something told you whatever was passed along to Connie was the water-downed version.

“Are you okay, Javi?” You ask quietly, the concern in your eyes causes a smile to form on his lips.

But it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“I’m full,” Javier chuckles as he redirects his attention to the beer in his hand. "Thanks for dinner."

He downs nearly half the bottle. He lets the bottle rest against his thigh as your gaze leaves him.

Reaching over you take the bowl from his lap before getting up and crossing the room. You take the time to dump the scraps and wash out both bowls. When you finish, you pick up your wine glass. Finishing the contents, you sit it down watching as Javier finishes his second beer. His eyes drift shut as he sits the bottle aside.

You know him well enough to know something is on his mind. Whatever it is, it won’t come out of him without you asking.

Crossing the room, you stand over him. His eyes open, hooded once your shuffles come to a halt on the floor.

A soft smile forms on his lips as his fingers lift to lightly circle your ankle. Tracing the delicate skin of your calf, he smiles “come here.”

His hand is on your waist before you can rest against his lap. His fingers slipping to your neck guiding your mouth to his. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he grunts as your weight shifts against his. He allows his hands to gently massage your thighs, his hands welcoming the softness of your skin. His touch drifts up the base of your spine before disappearing beneath the fabric of your shirt.

“Am I gonna have to fuck it out of you?”

Javier chuckles at the soft tease, his head resting back against the wall as you lightly press a kiss against his nose. Moving to each of his eyelids, you smile as he tilts his head in an attempt to return your lips to his.

His brow arches, eyes opening, once you leave his lips cold. Biting your lip, you smile as you let your thumb brush against the curve of his bottom lip.

For a moment, he watches your expression as your fingers drift along his skin. His hand drifts between your thighs, his brow furrowing as you shift to get up.

“I know it’s been a while, but I thought I was better at reading you than this.”

Reading the confusion on his face, you shrug your shoulder.

“Javi, you show up after nearly three weeks-”

“Didn’t realize you were keeping track.” His cocky smile is back. His brow arches. “Me extrañaste, cariña?”

Your eyes softly roll as you guide his hand back to your waist.

“And per usual you want to get right to it.”

“I’ve never heard you complain before.”

“I’m not complaining,” you sigh. Ignoring the confusion on his face, you press a kiss against his lips. “I just wish…”

Letting his eyes meet yours, Javier silently waits for you to finish your statement.

“...that for once, you didn’t start on one thousand.”

You shift out of his lap, resting your weight on his thigh. His tongue passes over his lips as realization sets in.

“There’s a first time for everything, huh?”

He shifts the position of his leg causing a light gasp to escape your lips as your body shifts forward, your hands coming up to press into his chest.

Your giggle is muffled by his lips, as Javier's hands begin to guide your hips. He sets a pace that allows you to feel the pressure begin to build deep in your stomach in a matter of seconds.

Javi focuses on your breathing, his guidance switching the motions of your hips once your eyes drift shut. He lets his left hand find your neck, his touch drifting to your lips as your nails dig into the fabric resting on his shoulders.

It is in moments like this, where you allow him to open you in this way, that he finds himself thinking back to the first night you met. He’d misjudged the soft-spoken woman he’d been introduced to that night. It was hard for Connie to make friends upon leaving Miami, so when she met you she was thrilled. She talked Steve’s ear off for the entire month about how perfect you’d be for Javier. And how nice it would be for him to have a stable relationship. For him to be matched with a woman who could force him to settle down.

Caving, Steve told his wife to bring you to dinner.

Funny enough, you didn’t hit it off instantly. At least not in your eyes.

You knew men like Javier, he was used to women throwing themselves on him. You weren’t interested in meeting him. Why would you be when you were scheduled to leave for Miami in four months? The only problem is, you aren’t immune to his charm or smile. No woman on this earth is.

“You gotta be open to change, baby,” you giggle, the friction between your legs hitching the breath in your throat. Resting back against the wall, Javi forces his mind to tell the rest of his mind to breathe. He knows he needs to suppress the selfish thoughts drifting into his mind. Now is not the time to take control. He also knows the sight of you right now, is one that will be on his mind when Steve glances across the cramped office tomorrow morning to snap his fingers in Javi’s face.

You with me, Pena?

Javi attempts to unbutton the jeans his erection is uncomfortably straining against, but you shake your head.

“No,” you breathe softly.

“No?”

Shaking your head, you giggle as Javi opens his mouth in protest.

“Jesus Christ, Javier. I know Steve and everyone else lets you have your fucking way.” He rolls his eyes in protest. “But you really need to learn to share attention sometimes. And to listen...”

“I listen,” he groans, his eyes drifting shut as your fingers slip into his hair.

“But practice makes perfect. Right?”

The corners of his lips turn up. Nodding he tilts his chin to meet your mouth.

Kissing him, you allow your tongue to brush against Javier's lips. If there is one thing Javi knows you have it is stronger will power. So instead of pinning you down, against the floor and fucking you, he allows you to continue the movements of your hips.

“...Tell me what you want, y/n.” You smile, your arched brow causing him to chuckle softly. “Within reason, of course. I’m still learning.”

“Just focus on putting that mouth of yours to good use.”

Javi chuckles. He lets his grip rest against the base of your jaw, the slight tightening of his grip adding to the warmth spreading across your skin.

"Sí, señora.”

He pauses, silently deciding where he wants to start. He knows you’re right. He usually has you pinned between the wall or mattress this far into his visits, the stress from work allowing him to fuck your brains out. He usually takes things much slower the second time around.

With a smile on his lips, Javi leans forward to softly kiss your pulse. He pulls a soft groan from your lips as your grip tightens on his shoulders. He lets his hands leave your waist. An unfamiliar itching sensation creeps to his fingertips once he forces himself to keep his hands to himself for once in his life.

Your fingers drift into the hair at the nape of his neck. Your grip tightening as your head falls back allowing him better access to your neck.

He sucks against your skin until the heat matches that between your thighs. The bruise he pulls to the surface will be impossible to cover tomorrow in the Colombian heat. His tongue swipes over the sensitive skin, his lips pressing a final kiss to your skin before switching to the other side of your neck. He repeats the process. the movements of his mouth matching the slow and steady pace of your hips.

When he’s pleased with his work, Javi moves down to your chest. He kisses against the fabric, a groan of frustration escaping his lips once a thought dawns.

“Can I use my hands now? Or is that taking control?” Shaking your head, you giggle as he groans in frustration. “Unless you want your whole fucking neck covered, I’m gonna need a little help here, y/n.”

Noting the darkening of his eyes, you can’t help but shake your head for a second time. He knows teasing him is something you enjoy. His tongue passes over his lips as his gaze moves to the soft rolling of your hips.

Only, the teasing comes second nature to Javi. And sadly, you’ll never beat him at it.

Javier shifts his leg causing your body to shift further up his thigh. The sensation pulls a rewarding gasp from your lips.

You lift the shirt over your head, Javier’s lips attaching to your skin the second he can. He’s licking, kissing and sucking against your shoulders and chest in a way that clouds your mind.

Your movements become sloppy as the sensations of his lips on your skin send sparks jolting from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes.

As you quiver against him, he tests you, his hands find your waist steadying you as your body trembles.

“Dime que mas quieres, mina?”

It would be easy for you to give in to the voice responsible for the desire coursing through your veins.

She is screaming for you to whisper the words, “for you to fuck me...preferably senseless.”

Being apart from Javier has had more of an effect than you thought it would.

“We can’t be serious, Javi,” you’d told him after he’d convinced you to have dinner with him without the Murphys for the first time. “I’m leaving in four months.”

You both stuck to those words. Most of your lust-filled nights ended with him falling asleep, face nuzzled against your neck arms around your waist. But he was always gone when you awoke the next morning.

That’s why you want to tell him to just get it over with. So that he can be gone in the morning, and you can go back to packing your boxes.

Instead, you find yourself shaking your head. Allowing your forehead to rest against his, you softly smile.

“For you to kiss me.”

And he does just that.

It’s all-consuming.

He’s kissing you in a way he’s never done before. A way that seems to re-awaken every nerve in your body. By the time he’s finished, your fingers are knotted in his hair. Your teeth are tugging against the softness of his lips, begging him to give you more. He allows you to rid him of his shirt before returning his mouth to yours.

Your grip tightens around him as he leans forward. His arm secures around your waist as he shifts until he can lift you from his lap. He lays you back against the floor, your back arching into him as the cool wood touches your skin.

“Where?” He breathes against your chest.

His grip is on your neck. Turning your chin his lets his tongue grace your skin. Kissing the bruised skin, he causes your fingers to dig into his hips.

“Aquí?” His voice comes out soft against your skin as he moves to your chest, sucking softly and leaving sensual kisses against your skin. He continues to the curve of your breast doing the same until he’s pulled a high pitched gasp from your lips. “How about here?”

The heat of his mouth strategically covers your entire chest. It drifts across your ribcage, down to your navel.

“Aquí?”

Your breaths are shallow, your body trembling beneath his lips. Your fingers drifting into his hair, brushing lazily against his scalp before tightening around the thick strands. Biting your lip you release the air in your lungs.

“Not the right spot?” His eyes lift to glimpse your rising chest. “Debo seguir buscando? Hmm?”

“Yes.”

The softness or your voice matches that of the kiss Javi presses against the curve of your left hip. His teeth teased the soft skin, before moving to your right.

His lips follow the fabric of your underwear down your thighs, his lips sucking against the nerves of your inner thigh until he’s pulled his name from your lips.

“Javi-”

“Fuck, look at you, baby.” His voice comes out low, as he allows his thumb to gently circle your clit causing your back to arch. “Estas tan mojada...eres hermosa.”

As much as he loves to feel the warmth of your walls as they clench around his fingers, Javier settles for using his tongue. He allows the grip of your fingers in his hair to guide his movements. Anytime your fingers flex, he teases you softly until your encroaching high has nearly faded. But he pulls its right back the moment it’s nearly gone. It’s not until your entire body is trembling, and you’re cursing him breathlessly that he allows you to welcome the wave of pleasure that you’re both chasing.

You giggle as he kisses your neck, his lips pressing his smile against your cheek.

“Qué quieres de mí?’

Surely, the grip on the waist of his jeans is enough of an answer, but you know that he wants you to say it.

“Dime que hacer, mi dulce.”

“Whatever you want, Javi.”

He moves to unbuttons his jeans, his hands abandoning the task as you hastily shove the fabric down and over his waist. His grip hook beneath your knees. Guiding them back towards your chest, he traps your gasp in your throat as he slides into you.

His grip goes slack against the back of your thigh, as he inches deeper into your folds stretching you open.

Javier releases a breathless string of curses, his English sloppily blending with his native tongue as your walls clench around him in welcome.

Slipping his arm beneath your waist, he lifts your hips off the ground allowing you to take all of him. The shift in pressure digs your nails into the muscles of his back, your legs instinctively clenching around his waist to prevent him from moving away.

Not that he had the willpower to do such a thing. Not when your eyes are clenched shut, back arching as an unsuspecting orgasm ripple throughout your body.

He leans forward, his hair brushing against your skin as his lips latch onto your neck. He lets you ride out your wave. The sound of his name rolling breathlessly off your lips encouraging Javier to roll his hips into yours until his name has morphed into a high note he’s almost certainly would have made him cum if he wasn’t concentrating so fucking hard.

He doesn’t give you time to recover. The feel of your palm pressing against his torso, as he continues to push his hips against yours, does nothing to halt his movements. It encourages him to continue. Your entire body is oversensitized making each brush of his skin and lips against yours be felt in each inch of your being.

“Nunca he tenido un coño tan bueno como el tuyo. I fucking swear.”

His words are breathless, his hips thrusting into yours with a relentless force you’re far too accustomed to. His fingers are tangled in your hair, his lips biting and kissing every inch of flesh they can reach.

“Fue hecho para mí. Solo yo.”

Your words and gasps echo off the walls of your nearly empty apartment. They drift out of the window, and down to the busy streets below. Through the floorboards to the neighbor who complains every night, Javier comes to visit.

“No one wants to hear you two fucking like rabbits every night, y/n!”

But neither of you cares. Javier sure fucking doesn’t.

In fact, he always makes sure to give Ms. Rothschild a smile when she glares at him as he sneaks out every morning on his way to work.

Nothing ever fucking matters when he’s buried deep inside of you. Nothing that weighs on him at work. Escobar...Carrillo...nothing. They all fucking disappear.

Because when you were beneath him, clinging to him as though your life depends on it, face buried around his skin in a feeble attempt to muffle your screams, the only thing that matters is you.

You and how, in these moments, you seem to need him just as much as he needs you.

The “fuck, baby,” which slips from his lips is the only warning you get before his hips jerk forward burying deep inside of you. His undoing is always enough to push you over the edge. He lets out a groan, his breath hot against your ear.

“I fucking missed you,” he huffs as he allows his hips to get off a few more sloppy thrusts before his body begins to feel heavy “...te extrañé tanto...”

Javier allows his weight to press into yours, neither of you bothering to move as you allow your breathing to return to normal.

Grunting, he sucks in his breath as he slips out of you. Rolling off of you, he rests on the floor alongside you.

Your eyes drift shut as his drift to the ceiling.

Neither of you speaks as Javier reaches down and lazily drags his jeans back over his hips. You listen to the drag of his zipper, the huff of irritation as he struggles with the buckle of his belt.

“The only time you’re ever speechless,” you giggle softly as his lips press against your shoulder.

“It’s because you’re fucking perfect,” he mumbles against your skin.

You open your eyes long enough to catch a glimpse of his cheeky grin. Rolling your eyes you lightly push his face away. He tugs his shirt back over his head, before placing a kiss against your lips.

“Whatever.” Your eyes drift shut as Javier pushes himself up from the floor. You listen to his feet shuffle across the room to his jacket resting on top of the kitchen counter. “It didn’t work, you know.”

Retrieving the pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket, Javier fishes around for his lighter. He waits until the cigarette is lit to glance over his shoulder at you.

Tugging his t-shirt back of your head, you smile as Javier blows the smoke from his lungs. He rests back against the counter, tossing the lighter aside.

A smile spreads across his lips as you cross the room towards him.

“Hmm?” Passing you the cigarette, Javier allows his hands to find the curves of your hips. “What didn’t work?”

Your weight instinctively rolls to your toes as his touch drifts to the small of your back, his face inching down towards yours.

“You’re still not getting your shirt back. A for your effort, though.” The soft giggles that escape your lips tug the corner of his mouth up into the lazy smile you love so much. Leaning forward, you press a soft peck against his lips. You’re turning away before he can reciprocate the action.

Javier recovers, his grip tightening around your waist preventing you from taking more than two steps forward.

The soft squeal that escapes your lips turns into a groan of protest as he guides your body back into his.

Taking a drag from the cigarette, you allow your eyes to drift shut as his face buries against the warmth of your shoulder. You hold the smoke in your lungs until they start to burn. When you release it into the air, you find that your eyes remain closed.

Javier’s lips ghost over your shoulder, the curve of your neck, the ridge of your jaw and to your earlobe.

A single word comes out softly against your skin. So uncharacteristically low for the man whose arms are wrapped around your middle as if he’d afraid you’ll slip away if he loosens his grip.

“Longer.”

“Hmm?” You attempt to tilt your head to get a look at his face. Before you can do so, Javier’s face is back against your neck.

You can feel his heart racing against his chest from where you rest against him.

“Stay longer.” The softness of his voice almost does the job. It almost masks the plea behind the words he’d been working up the courage to say the past month.

You listen to the softness of his breathing, your silence pulling his face from the security of your neck.

Turning in his arms, you put out the cigarette in the ashtray resting on the countertop.

Javier lets your fingers brush against his chest. He allows you to lift his head, his eyes opening as your touch drifts to his cheeks.

“I’m not ready for you to leave,” he admits quietly, his voice soft beneath the sounds of life just beyond the window he’s constantly trying to escape. “I’m not ready to give..to give you up yet.”

#i'm shit at posting #let me know what you think?#javier peña x reader #javier peña #narcos imagine #pedro pascal imagine #imagines

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