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jaylaxies · 10 months

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THE PATH TO A NERD’S HEART

PAIRING: nerd!jay × fem!reader

GENRE/CW: sub!jay, dom!reader, smut, fluff, unprotected sex, public sex, slight biting and marking, mentions of bullying, room sharing, kissing, handjob, mentions of sunghoon

WC: 8.1k (8169) words

SYNOPSIS: the annual debate competition was just around the corner and you were thrilled to meet your partner, who turned out to be park jongseong. from you studying together to him asking you how it feels to kiss someone, how would your relationship progress? especially when you offer to give him a demonstration, even more so when he asks if he could get a bit more.

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, angels! I'm back with another fic! i've re-edited this fic and i’m reposting as per the request of my anonnie! i hope y'all will enjoy this! :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! it keeps me motivated! iloveyou all <3

“What have you done to her?” The principal sighed in distress, slightly turning his head, glancing at the girl who sat next to you with an expression filled with misery, a girl with a broken nose to be more precise.

“With all due respect, sir, she was bullying a student, which clearly goes against our school policies, and further, she tried to punch me when I asked her to stop. She had it coming,” you calmly explained the whole situation, fake politeness dripping off your tone.

The girl next to you screamed like a maniac after hearing your statement, flailing her arms and legs, claiming that you were the one who attacked her first. She never failed to show her spoiled-child behaviour in public.

“I request you to please check the surveillance camera of the corridor, it'll make it more clear to you, sir,” you faked your smile as Hana Lee, the bully, started crying, knowing that nothing could save her from the upcoming punishment now.

She was soon dismissed to go to the medical room, her wound bleeding, yet she didn’t show a sign to stop protesting.

“Miss Y/N, I understand that what Miss Lee did was wrong, but that does not give you any right to punch her.” He looked at you with an expression that clearly displayed disappointment.

“It was just self defense from my side, sir,” you said with wide eyes, plastering your most innocent face in front of him, wanting to leave his office as soon as possible.

He sighed, “you’re one of our top students, miss Y/N, and I appreciate you caring for the other students, but please refrain from using punches next time. You can leave now.”

You finally smiled in victory, muttering a ‘thank you’ before grabbing your bag and rushing out of the office.

As you got out of the office, a hand immediately grabbed your wrist, causing you to widen your eyes at the sudden gesture, your own hand curling its fingers to punch until you saw who it was.

He softly pulled you to the empty staircase area.

“I’m sorry,” he slowly whispered, he had a busted lip and red eyes, the sight made your heart hurt, a frown settling on your face.

“Jay! Oh my god! Does it hurt?” You asked, hand extending towards his face.

You barely knew the boy, in fact, your first ever proper interaction with him took place this morning.

“You shouldn’t have stepped up for me,” he sighed, eyes not meeting yours as he looked at his shoes, confused as to why you would help him.

“I don’t care what you say, I cannot stand bullying, Jay,” you simply told him, getting closer to see his wound, the wound caused by Hana.

Now, the question is: How did you reach here in the first place?

Let’s start by replaying the morning events.

The yearly Inter-school English debate was two months away from now. Meaning, that you’ll soon know who your assigned partner is for this year’s competition would be.

Your English teacher had asked you to meet her, so you made your way towards the staff room. You greeted her as soon as you saw her, eyes soon moving to observe a guy with specs standing next to her.

“Y/N, c’mere! Meet Park Jay, he’ll be your partner for this year’s debate competition,” your teacher explained.

You smiled, extending your hand which he shyly took into his bigger ones, “nice to meet you, Jay.”

Your radiant smile caused Jay to crack a small smile of his own, “it’s really nice to meet you too,” he said.

Further, the teacher explained how your school won’t be the host for the debate this year, instead, the Busan branch will be the one to do so.

Conclusively, she informed you that all your expenses will be paid by the school, except for the extra souvenirs you would purchase there for yourself.

You listened to it all, giving small nods at the end of her sentences, your eyes also shifting to look at the guy standing next to you, his gaze focused on what your teacher was telling.

A hotel will be arranged and she will accompany you both for your two day trip to the competition.

“The topic will be provided to you both soon, I hope both of you will get along well, please don’t hesitate to ask for any sort of help from me,”Ms. Hwang smiled at you both and ensured that you were okay with this setting.

Park Jay. You knew him, of course you did. He’s always been exceptionally smart in studies, him being the only one in school who matched your own pace.

The only difference between you was his shy nature. Your nature screamed enthusiasm and boldness, hence, making friends came easily to you. You were one of the popular students, not to mention how you were good at academics too, which was also paired with your kind nature.

However, you didn’t know much about Jay, except for the fact that he was good at studies and closed off, with little to no friends at your school.

This piqued your curiosity.

After Ms. Hwang left, you turned to look at the shy boy, asking him if he’d be up to eat lunch with you, to get to know each other better.

His eyes slightly widened at your suggestion and you theorized it must be because he never eats with anyone else, which worried you as you thought you had crossed a line.

His small smile just after, ensured that it was not the case, “I’d love to,” he said, and you noted how sharp yet cute his smile was.

The whole student body was shocked to see Jay interacting with the popular girl herself, their eyes fixated on your table.

It wasn’t your concern though, you were enjoying having a simple conversation with him, asking him about his hobbies. He got excited that you were willing to talk to him, not forcing yourself like the other students did. And he tried his best not to show how excited he was.

He told you about his love for fashion, his smile growing at each word he spoke, you found his deep voice pretty as you paid attention to everything he had to tell and offer.

He stopped his sentence midway, looking at you as you stared at him with shiny eyes.

“I talk a lot, don’t I?” His shyness came back to him all of a sudden.

“No! I think that it’s really beautiful that you’re so passionate about something, I could hear you speak about it for hours,” you reassured him, reaching forward to hold his hand which was kept on the table.

He breathed out softly, gulping at the sight of your joined hands and your reassuring smile, his cheeks heating up and a sudden warmth spreading through his chest.

Just one conversation and he already wanted to trust you, to spend more time with you, to get to know you better.

He looked forward to it all.

You wanted the same, to get to know him better. Jay was cute effortlessly, and you were quick to notice that even slight proximity made him nervous to the point his ears got red.

You found it adorable, promising yourself to keep a check on him to make sure he doesn’t feel lonely at school anymore.

So, when you saw Hana cornering and punching him for not completing her homework, you knew you had to step in.

He watched how you pushed her away from him, standing as a barrier between them both. He noticed how you raised your voice at her, the demeanour completely changed from the sweet one which you had in the morning.

He noticed how you didn’t hesitate to block her punch, your own hand swiming to counter punch her instead with no regrets whatsoever.

He stood there in awe, he knew was thankful to you, however, he was too shocked to even form words.

You turned back to look at him, his lip bleeding and his bloodshot eyes made you worried and angry at the same time.

Before you could say anything to him, you were dragged to the principal's office.

Which brings you back here.

Jay silently cried in front of you, “you don’t deserve this,” you softly said with a sad frown before hugging him

His hands grabbed your waist as he softly weeped into your shoulder, your hand rubbing soothing circles on his back.

You weren’t sure how long Hana had been bullying him into doing his homework, but now, you had this sudden urge of wanting to protect him, your hands tightening around him.

He calmed down after a few minutes, body still holding on to you.

“Thank you,” he softly whispered, taking a step back, his eyes meeting yours for a second before he turned away, rushing to leave.

He did not stop when you called out his name, thrice.

You sighed, stuffing your hands in the jacket pocket before leaving for the next class.

The boy never left your mind no matter how hard you tried to concentrate on the lecture.

The news had spread all around the school as the newest gossip. Some said that Jay was your new boyfriend, while some assumed you to be his bully. Nevertheless, no one bullied him after Hana got suspended for using violence in school.

Soon after, the theme for the debate was announced and Ms. Hwang had called you both to inform you about the same.

You observed his face, seeing him for the first time after that incident and you were glad to see that all his wounds were healed and didn’t leave any scars.

When he felt you looking at him, he turned to look at you, smiling softly to say hello.

After some minutes of general discussion with your teacher, she left you both alone as she had to grade other test papers.

You never brought up the topic of Hana again, only paying attention to the debate. Jay kept on glancing at you from time to time.

“Thank you,” he whispered shyly, passing you a bottle of your favourite drink, which made you tilt your head to look up at him, “I wasn’t sure what you liked so I asked Sora,” he rushed to speak, mentioning how he asked your best friend about it.

“You didn’t have to.” A smile graced your face at his sweet gesture.

He felt more confident talking to you now, and he even attempted to make silly jokes just to see you laugh, which you did, heartily at that.

Your hand grabbed his arm as you tried to support yourself while laughing. He found it beautiful and he wished to hear your laugh more often. Your hand felt soft on his arm, sending tingles to his stomach.

You hugged him softly before leaving, your sweet scent sending Jay into a state of frenzy, his ears turning red while his heartbeat felt faster than usual.

Being teased was like a routine for you now, your friends did everything in their will to constantly remind you how 'soft' you have gone for that nerd kid.

“Your jealousy is showing,” you smirked at Sunghoon, who repeatedly mentioned Jay in each of your conversations.

“Of fucking course! You haven’t kissed me in weeks,” he retorted.

It had been a while since you ended your friends with benefits relationship with him, you just couldn’t do it anymore, it felt wrong to you, seeing how attached he was getting with your setting.

Yet still, you decided to humor him this time.

Laughing at his pouty face, you grabbed his chin as you kissed him, trapping him against the lockers and he eagerly kissed back, not caring if anyone saw you both.

The makeout session was short lived as the bell was quick to indicate the time for your next class, a groan leaving his mouth as he punched the locker, muttering how nothing works in his favour.

You left him there, a boyish smirk spreading on his face when you winked at him.

You were breathless, but then you realized why you had left this in the first place, the guilt seeping deep inside you, knowing that it would lead him on if your suspicions were right.

You’ll say no the next time, that’s what you decided, not paying attention to the lesson the entire class.

You didn’t like him, you just needed a distraction from a certain someone who invaded your mind at the most random times.

You weren’t going to use Sunghoon as a distraction anymore.

You couldn't.

Jay met you at the library after school, for research purposes and collecting further information on your topic to be prepared as much as possible.

“Hey,” you smiled, hugging him, which had now become a usual thing for you two.

You noticed how he was a bit hesitant somehow, his arms not pulling you closer like they always used to.

Not paying much attention to it, you both got inside and searched for your respective books and topics, noting down all the information you needed. No words were exchanged for a long time, your focus solely on the text in front of you.

“How does it feel?” A whisper was heard from beside you.

“Excuse me?” You asked, looking up at Jay, confused at his unusual antics and sudden silence. “H–how does it feel to kiss someone?” He completed his sentence, not looking up at you while he kept fiddling with the hem of his uniform sleeve.

“Wait, you saw?” You asked him, eyes widening as you thought that he might have gotten the wrong impression.

You realized that he might have seen you kiss hoon earlier today, hence his question.

“Have you ever kissed anyone before, Jay?” You enquired slowly, not missing the way his eyes turned big for a second.

“N—no,” he whispered.

“Have you ever wanted to try it?” You softly asked.

Jay was probably the purest person you had ever met, the thought of corrupting him kept on swimming in your mind, the fact that he might want to try something with you made you smile.

“Will it be fine?” he hesitated again, “isn’t he your boyfriend?” He asked, referring to Sunghoon.

“What?” you almost shouted, apologizing once you got looks from the nearby students.

Maybe the library isn’t the best place for such conversations.

“He’s not my boyfriend, Jay. We’ve had something but it was not a relationship,” you revealed.

He listened to you with all his attention, a small smile on his face when you told him that you were single, which you didn’t fail to notice.

And he nodded, saying that he wants to try. His ears were red, which you found adorable.

“Of course, we’ll stop the moment you feel uncomfortable, yeah?” You assured him.

“But, here?” he kept on asking like a kid, his heartbeat beyond control as he tried not to seem too flustered.

You laughed, “we’re meeting at my place tomorrow, right? We can try it out then, if you’d be comfortable with that,” you suggested and he agreed shyly, nodding and looking down at his fingers.

You only looked at the pretty boy next to you, wondering how far he would want to go with you.

Jay was overwhelmed by the fact that you agreed to kiss him, he had been staring at your lips ever since he saw you kiss sunghoon in the morning, deeply wishing that it was him instead.

It was pretty strange of him to think this way, but he couldn’t stop, especially when he saw how you took control of the kiss, tilting Sunghoon’s head to the side and kissed him deeply.

You saw him looking dazed as you were about to leave, his actions being so cute, which left you wanting to fluster him more.

A cute yelp left his mouth as you softly pecked his cheek, tiptoeing to do so, before bidding him goodbye.

He blushed a lot in general, but you being around him took it to another level, you found it adorable to say the least, excited to see how he would behave tomorrow.

The next day, Jay woke up early. He wanted to look perfect, to smell perfect, to be perfect for you. Not that he needed to do anything, yet he did some extra research for the debate and printed them out for you, to make up for the time you’d invest to kiss him today.

He paid more attention to his clothes, for this would be the first time you would see him without his usual uniform. He even devoted his time to do his hair, finally reaching your place at the exact time you had given him.

Releasing his breath and cussing once, he rang the doorbell.

You were quick to rush down to open the door, not wanting him to wait for long, chuckling when you saw how he rang the bell at the exact time you had given him.

His breathing hitched as he laid his eyes on you.

It was the first time he saw you looking this comfortable as you wore a soft and loose top along with sweatpants.

“Jay! Come in,” your enthusiastic voice dragged him out of his daydream as he nodded.

He followed you like a lost puppy, “are you home alone?” He couldn’t help but ask.

“Oh, yeah! My parents come home late,” you explained with a wink, “don’t worry, baby,” you said and he almost passed out with the nickname you had used.

You smirked at his state, making him sit on your bed.

“You look good,” you complimented seeing his attire and he muttered a small thank you, a shy smile spreading on his face.

He likes to be praised, you noticed.

Without much delay, you started scripting your research papers. Jay noted how you were always serious when it came to studies and the competition, he paid attention to the way you bit your lower lip while concentrating.

Some part of him wanted you to do the same to his lips, he waited patiently for you to remember your promise to kiss him but you never once brought it up, his mood turning sad.

Taking the matter into his own hands, he spoke up.

“Can we—” he took a deep breath as you stared at him with big doe eyes, urging him to continue.

“I—it’s nothing actually.” He backed away.

You laughed, “I didn’t peg you to be the impatient type,” you smirked, well knowing what he wanted.

Closing your laptop, you urged him to come near you, patting the space next to you.

“We’ll start off with a simple peck, yeah? Pinch me if you feel uncomfortable and I'll stop,” you told him and he shivered as you got closer to his face, gulping his anxiety down.

“May I?” You finally asked, searching his eyes.

“Y—yes,” he whispered, nodding.

Softly placing your hand on his cheek, your lips touched his lips in a short peck. They merely touched, yet it was enough for Jay to get butterflies, heart beating out of his chest at the sensation.

You leaned back to observe his reaction, he still had his eyes closed, a soft rosy glow spread on his cheeks.

Getting closer again, you grabbed his chin, tilting his head as you dived in to kiss him, longer this time, your lips moving in sync once he got the hang of it, low whine leaving his mouth, making you smile.

You wanted to play with him even more.

So, you gently bit on his lower lip, causing him to gasp, giving you enough opportunity to taste him.

It felt so right yet, forbidden somehow.

You had invaded all his senses, you pushed him down on the bed, his eyes looking at your every move as you made him lean against the head frame, you sat down on his lap and he cussed.

“Does it feel good?” You asked with a small, teasing smile.

“Fuck, y—yes it feels so good,” he whispered out.

“Yeah? So good that my good boy is using bad words now?” You teased.

“Please,” he whined, “sorry, I’ve never done this before and it just, it felt so good I couldn’t help it,” he rambled and you shut him up with a peck.

“Lord, you’re so adorable. It makes me want to ruin you,” you breathed out, brushing his hair away from his forehead, gripping his chin and running your thumb on his swollen lower lip.

His heartbeat sped up at your words again, head dizzy as he said, “please,” and you pulled him into a deep kiss for the second time.

Your fingers softly tugged on his hair, finally causing him to moan out loud, his pretty voice resounding all over the room.

You both pulled back from the kiss after a few minutes, breathing hard and deep to come back to your senses.

“How was it?” you asked him in a gentle voice, sitting down next to him, slightly worried if you had gone too far for his first time.

His stare on your face and silence only made it worse.

“Can we do that again?” He asked after a few seconds, trying not to sound too shameless, but he couldn’t help it, not when you had offered to kiss him so nicely.

He slowly pulled the hem of your top, and you understood, coming back to kiss him, your hand on his jaw, as he shifted his position for you to take full control.

He laid underneath you as his heart pounded harder than ever, he could only focus on how soft your lips felt against his mildly chapped ones, his eyes closed as he took in everything you were willing to offer.

The said practice of your debate ended with you making out with Jay, he didn’t wish to stop, not even after his lips were swollen, his eyes shining as he looked at you as if you were a goddess.

He had to excuse himself when his cock felt painfully hard, he was beyond embarrassed and you looked at him with hooded eyes, holding yourself back before it gets too much for him.

“Here’s the washroom,” you guided him, “let me know if you need help,” you said with a smirk.

“I—thank you,” he rushed to go inside.

You knew what he was going to do, and you wished it was you who’d be the one to please him instead, his voice wasn’t silent when he took your name, as he reached his orgasm inside the washroom.

You chuckled, wondering how he’d look while doing so into your hand. He left soon after, face red and hot.

It left him wanting more.

The debate was a week away from now, and you both were well prepared for it yet, you kept on studying from your notes. That wasn’t your concern right now though, a certain nerd had occupied your mind from the past few days.

You found it adorable how he would request you to kiss him in the empty classroom, his room, or any place where you both were alone, he wanted you guys to be alone together.

You were corrupting him, and truth being told, you wanted to corrupt him even more.

Jay had always been attractive, his knowledge was a plus point to it all. You absolutely loved his shy demeanor, no matter how comfortable you both got with each other, he could not help but blush around you.

Meanwhile, Jay was confused. He had never had girl problems before, so why did it feel so different when it came to you? Even more so when you were so good to him.

He loved how you took care of him in the most minimum way possible, you made him feel like he mattered, giving him motivational speeches (and your kisses were a cherry on top).

He knew it really well that the other students wanted to date you, or they wanted to be closer to you. Why wouldn’t they? You were perfect in their eyes, but this did not stop Jay from wanting more. He wanted you to claim him yours. You were beyond perfect in his eyes.

But he wondered if you’d ever be willing to like him back, to be with someone like him. Kissing was one thing, maybe you did it just to make him happy, but more?

He could only wish.

“All participants from the same school will be given one room to share, will it be okay for you both?” Ms. Hwang informed you both, also asking for your comfort.

Jay stiffened, he was sure to lose control if left alone with you at night.

“It’s alright for me ma’am,” you smiled.

“Yeah, for me too,” Jay shakily let out.

He wanted this, he finally decided, he’d even go as far as confessing his feelings for you.

“Alright then, I’ll see you tomorrow morning, right?” Ms. Hwang confirmed as you both nodded, you had to leave early tomorrow for the competition.

As you walked back home with Jay, saying that you’d drop him off, you spoke, “are you sure that you’ll be comfortable?” you asked as your fingers were interlocked with his, giving him butterflies.

“You’ll take care of me right?” He asked in a low whisper, suddenly stopping and looking at you.

He definitely meant more than the normal care but you were willing to give him anything.

“I will,” you promised with a smile, “I’ll take care of my pretty boy,” you said before pecking his lips and leaving him blushing on the sidewalk.

The next morning, he didn’t have to wake up, for, he didn’t get to sleep. That’s how excited he had been, the fact that you were going to be in the same room as him at night made him blush.

His excitement only grew when he saw you at the station wearing a skirt, it was short lived as Sunghoon came into view, holding your hand, holding your luggage with his other hand.

Jay frowned at the sight.

Sunghoon looked like your boyfriend with this setting, he did not like it a bit.

You spotted Jay in a second, smiling and hugging him without thinking much, it was not returned though.

You bit down your smile, making him jealous seemed like a great idea to you, knowing well how adorable and needy he is.

Naturally, Hoon got a cheek kiss as a goodbye while Jay had a frown plastered on his face, almost like a pout.

Your teacher came to the station soon, informing you that her seat is not near you both and telling you her seat number so you can approach her for anything you’d need.

You nodded and thanked her before getting into the train, which arrived right on time.

You sat down next to him on the express train, which gave you two hours to spend with him.

“What’s wrong?” You innocently asked him, your hand resting on his thick thigh.

“N—nothing.” His breath hitched as your hand neared his upper thighs.

You softly massaged that region, “you’ll be a good boy and tell me, won’t you?”

He shivered with the tone you had used, your hands making him feel weak in the knees.

He rushed to keep his backpack on his lap to hide his private area in case something went wrong.

He whined your name as quietly as possible, “tell me what's wrong, baby?” you asked again.

He grabbed your hand, staring at you with doe eyes as he placed it high up on his thigh, near to his hardening cock.

“Not so fast,” you said as you moved your hand away, “you’re not getting anything until you tell me what’s bothering you,” you urged him.

“I was jealous,” he whispered, red adorning his face.

“Yeah? Go on,” you hummed, softly brushing your fingers in his hardened and clothed member.

The thrill of you touching him in public only made his cock hard.

“You kissed Sunghoon,” he whined, placing his head on your shoulder, trying to calm himself from the pleasure he was receiving.

“Yes I did, and what about it?” You sped up, placing your hand on his cock, thankful that he had covered himself using the bag, so that others won’t be able to see you both.

It caused him to squirm in his seat.

“I—I wanted it too,” he struggled to form words.

“Being needy, are we now?” you chuckled as he softly moaned into your neck.

“What more do you want, pretty boy?” You asked, pleasuring him.

“Your kisses, y—your touch and—ah! You,” he barely spoke.

“That’s my good boy.”

You continued your actions for a few minutes, allowing him to release his mess without you having to touch him directly.

You looked at him in awe, you wanted him to be yours. Your baby boy.

“You did so well, baby,” you cooed at his teary face, kissing him swiftly.

“Go and clean up in the washroom, yeah?” You said and he nodded, somehow making his way towards the room.

He was clingy the entire ride, and it made you smile as you gave him all your attention.

“Did you like it?” you questioned.

He bit his lip, “yes, I did,” his answer was short as he was shying away again.

“How cute,” you said, “get me a list of things you like, yeah?” you requested him just before getting off at your destination.

The whole ride to the hotel was silent as your teacher was with you both, Jay still couldn’t think straight, his mind going back to when you touched him and how devastatingly good it felt.

“Here’s your room key, you are both free till tomorrow, so you can roam around a bit but be careful! Don’t forget to meet me at the same place at 11 am sharp with your proper attire on tomorrow,” Ms. Hwang commanded and you both nodded, leaving her to settle in her room.

After washing up and changing into comfortable clothes, you both sat down side by side at 9 pm. You noticed him writing something, but didn’t ask what it was, only looking at his face which had a cute pout, an expression he held whenever he was focused.

You settled down and scrolled through your messages on the phone to pass your time, even though deep inside, you wanted to spend time with Jay.

He soon came up to you, calling your name softly as you looked up at him.

He gently placed a note in your palm.

“I made the list,” he said, referring to the time you asked him to make a list of the things he liked back on the train.

You raised your brows, “come here,” you patted the place next to you before you grabbed his chin, making his heartbeat rise again.

“Let’s see now.” Holding the note in your other hand, you started reading, “degradation and praise kink? Oh, so you want to be called a dumb slut now?” you saw him nod and shiver, enjoying the way you called him a slut.

You wanted to ruin him.

“Choking? Who would have thought that our president ‘good boy’ would be into such filthy stuff,” your hand traveled from his chin to his neck, putting in a bit of pressure just enough for it to feel pleasurable.

Jay whined at the constricted feeling yet his eyes never left your face.

“You wanna be tied up? Cuffed even? And used as I wish?” Your eyes widened after reading his fantasies, the list amusing you beyond words.

You knew that Jay was willing to try stuff but you never expected it to be this wild, you loved it and you bit your lips as you looked his way.

“Please?” He requested you, eyes innocent.

“What do you want me to do, baby boy?” you finally asked as he gulped, coming closer to whisper something in your ear.

“Want you to touch me, please.”

“Like this?” You pulled him closer by the neck, your hand traveling down from his torso to his lower abdomen, and you noticed how he shivered with your touch.

“I—yes,” he let out desperately.

Switching to a better position, you got close to him, almost sitting on his lap as your fingers further trailed up to his mouth.

He was quick to part his lips, taking them in and sucking on your two digits, your head tilting as you noticed how devoted his look was, tongue swirling around your fingers.

“How cute,” you commented, amused with the boy, the same boy who you thought was innocent, however, that wasn’t the case.

All he wanted to do was to please you, and he wanted you to call him yours.

Your other hand rested on his thigh, soon going up and resting on his hard on, causing him to moan around your fingers.

“My needy pup, do you want me to take care of you?” You asked, loving how he reacted to your touch.

As you softly touched him through his sweatpants, he unconsciously jerked his hips forward, suppressing a moan.

“Let me hear it, I need your answer,” you slowed down your actions, causing him to whine.

“Yes! I w—want that so much,” he said out loud, as you took your fingers out of his mouth, wrapping them around his throat.

“Good, now, don’t move, and don’t you dare suppress your pretty noises, am I clear?” you asked for confirmation.

He nodded swiftly as you removed his pants.

His hard member came into view, thick and veiny, begging to be touched. Jay bit back his moans as you teased his tip with your thumb, your fingers wrapping around his length before you bent down to softly swirl your tongue on it, your eyes never leaving his.

“Fuck,” he cursed out loud as you took him in your mouth.

“Good boys don’t use bad language, do they?” You said slapping his dick. Your slender fingers gripped his neck again, this time capturing him in a passionate kiss.

“Y—yes,” he whispered against your lips.

“Open your mouth,” you ordered and he complied, you spat in his mouth, observing how it traveled down his tongue, “swallow it.”

And he did, opening his mouth again to show you the same, causing you to smirk.

“Such a good slut for me.” You kissed him as he whimpered at the degradation coming out of your sweet mouth.

He also whined at the lack of your attention to his cock.

He was needy, and you loved it. You had wanted to take care of him from the very start, seeing the boy in front of you, all naked, you wondered how he’d look full of your lipstick marks, which you’ll leave on his sweet hickeys.

You slowly started stroking his cock again, taking him in your mouth whilst massaging his balls. His breathing got heavier by each second, face red and voice shaky as he took your name sweetly.

Tears stained his rosy cheeks due to the immense pleasure he received, it was unlike ever before, his hands never felt this good, this perfect.

What made it better was the fact that it was you who was touching him, who was making him go crazy.

He liked you so much.

You felt him twitching and you got down to take him in your mouth before saying, “cum in my mouth baby boy,” and he did, moaning your name in the process as you hungrily gulped everything he had to offer.

You got up with a small smile on your face, seeing how he had closed his eyes, lip bitten and his chest heaving up and down.

You softly cupped his face, his eyes opening with your gentle touch.

“How are you feeling?” You asked him with a small smile, thumb caressing his cheek.

“Euphoric,” your laughter bloomed at his answer, a shy smile on his face, “can we do more?” He asked.

Your eyes softened at how vulnerable he looked at the given moment, and you knew if you’d do more, then you’ll probably won’t ever let go of him.

You kissed his forehead, “win that debate with me tomorrow and I’ll give you your victory gift, alright?”

He whined, not wanting to wait till tomorrow, but agreed nevertheless.

“C’mere, let’s get you cleaned up.” You took him to the bathroom, asking him to stay still as you cleaned him up, ensuring that he felt okay and you laughed whenever he felt ticklish at your touch.

“Can we cuddle at least?” He asked before sleeping, he loved being close to you. He had given you most of his firsts without any hesitation, and he was willing to give you even more. You grinned and took him in your arms, you both drifting off to dreamland soon.

Jay’s heartbeat clearly out of control as he only got closer to you, taking in your scent and watching you sleep, softly saying.

“I wanna be yours.”

The next morning was in a frenzy as you both tried to cramp up last minute information before your awaited debate.

Jay kept shying around after last night, and you had to pull him back and ask him to look into your eyes, making him laugh.

You couldn't help but notice how hot Jay looked in a black blazer, wondering if it was the same guy who begged you to touch him last night.

More importantly, you were also aware of that one girl who kept staring at Jay as you waited for your turn at the big auditorium where the competition was being held.

She was just behind you in the line, meaning, she might be your rival team for the final round, where you had reached with ease, courtesy of Jay.

Not being able to handle her constant stares and shy whispering about Jay, you rolled your eyes as you turned to him, calling out his name.

He turned to look at you, his face looked so innocent it made you want to smile, that’s the exact second you decided to peck him, tips of his ears turning red instantly

“W—what was that for?” He asked wide eyed, checking if someone saw you both.

“Just a good luck kiss for my baby,” you spoke loud enough for the girl to hear. A satisfactory smirk rested on your face as you saw her frown from the corner of your eyes.

Your turn came by soon, you listed out all the cons about the given subtopic with Jay smoothly.

However, you got stuck at the doubt round where the judges had to ask you questions, it was smooth until that one last question came up, which you had no idea how to answer.

You looked at Jay with worried eyes, but he kept his composure, remembering that particular piece of information from that one morning he made extra notes before going to your place, which he answered with full confidence, earning applause from the seated judges, and also you, a proud smile adorned your face.

You were sent back to the waiting area where you gushed about how cool Jay looked while answering with such confidence.

“It’s nothing,” he said, trying to act as if his ears weren’t turning red at your compliment.

“You’ll always be my shy baby,” you gently laughed.

He adorably rested his head on your shoulder as you praised him for being so intelligent while waiting for the result declaration.

“Now, for the most awaited first position, congratulations to ms. L/N and Mr. Park, from the Decelis Academy, Seoul!” The announcer declared.

You hugged him with joy, taking his hands in yours as you went on stage to accept the trophy, your teacher cheering and clicking pictures of you both from the audience seat.

Jay was overjoyed, somewhat because of winning the competition, but mostly for the reward that awaited him tonight. You both hugged again and got your trophy, Ms. Hwang treated you to dinner afterwards, being proud of you both and informing your principal at once.

Now that you were alone in your hotel room, without any distractions, you could easily see through Jay and how he was trying his best not to mention the reward you had promised you’d give him.

You smirked.

“My baby is so smart, shouldn’t he be rewarded now?” You asked, getting closer to him as he gulped down his nervousness.

“Please,” he breathed out.

“Please what, baby? Use your big words to tell me how you wish to be rewarded?” you encouraged him.

“Please, I want you,” he whimpered.

Your hands wandered around his torso, unbuttoning him one by one just to test his patience. He started helping you unbutton him, but you stopped him grabbing his cheeks.

“Did I give you permission to do anything?” You asked sharply while he shook his head, saying no.

“Be a good boy for me, yeah?” He nodded as your lips captured him into a deep kiss, your fingers gripped his hair while he held on to your waist, low hums and grunts were heard as you started grinding on him.

“Fuck me, please!” He cried out loud,

“Undress me,” you ordered.

He shakily took off your white blouse, leaving you in your lace bra, his eyes fixated on your body, and how pretty you looked in lace.

“Can I touch you?” He asked for your permission, you nodded.

He removed the remaining of your clothes and softly trailed his fingers down your body, as if trying to memorize you. Holding his hand, you guided him towards your wet pussy.

“Prep me, baby,” you instructed him as he hesitantly touched your core, spreading your juices in a circular motion.

He observed how you bit down on your lips and closed your eyes. Getting further validation from you, he pushed in a finger, slowly pumping it, he soon added another digit, his fingers curling inside of you sending you into bliss.

You felt your high nearing, “fuck, Jay I want to cum on your cock,” you said switching your positions so that you were straddling him, he cried out loud as your wet cunt came in contact with his throbbing dick.

“Moan louder, babyboy, tell everyone who the winner is tonight,” you said against his lips.

That let him loose, lewd sounds filled up the room.

“Louder,” you encouraged him, finally letting him enter inside you.

Your walls clenched around his thick member, adjusting to his size. You looked at him for permission.

“Please, you can move,” he allowed you.

Without wasting much of a second, you started riding him, your tits bouncing up and down in the process.

Jay couldn’t think straight anymore, his mind was corrupted by you, small dumb mumbles leaving his mouth and he loved how you were being equally soft and rough with him, considering it was his first time.

“Moan louder before I stop,” you threatened him, finally causing him extra stimulation when you clenched around him.

The pleasure was enough for his tears to run free, his cheeks blotchy with red speckles all over, and he moaned, just like you had wanted him to.

“Good boy,” you kept muttering, loving his sweet and needy voice.

“Let me cum, please?” He asked for your permission.

That is when you got off him.

“Not so fast, baby,” you replied with a peck on his lips.

Harsh whimpers left his mouth as you slowly stroked his leaking dick for the next few minutes.

“Please,” he begged after he couldn’t take it anymore, his dick twitching with how close he was.

“Impatient slut,” you slid into him again, your walls contracting around him, it was too much for him to take in.

You fastened your pace, “I’m about to—” he cried.

“Hold it in,” you warned, loved how he closed his eyes shut.

It was so fun teasing him.

You decided to be a bit gentle with him now that he was close, just like you.

“Cum inside me, love,” you encouraged

With a few more bounces, and his thrusts from below, he muttered a string of curses, emptying inside of you as you reached your high just a moment later.

You cupped his cheeks, not getting up but looking deep into his eyes.

“You did so well, I’ll arrange a nice hot bath for you to relax, yeah?” you softly caressed his cheeks.

He weakly nodded, still high from the activities done minutes back. Soon, you helped him into the tub, sitting on his lap as you softly washed his hair for him while he stared at you with stars in his eyes.

“What’s it?” you quietly asked, a small smile on your face.

“Thank you,” he pecked you, this time with adoration, catching you off guard as your heartbeat rose.

“I did nothing,” you smiled at him as he returned it.

You traced his red bruises, applying lotion to them and giving him a massage as well. Jay was thankful to say the least, eyes on your face.

“You’re staring,” you noted.

“You’re pretty,” he said, lowering his eyes as he did so.

“God, you’re so cute.” You kissed him softly, a shy smile gracing his face as you wrapped him in a towel.

“Come on, let’s sleep,” you patted the space near you.

“Can we cuddle?” he excitedly asked and you brightly nodded, taking him into your arms.

The room was silent, however, it felt comfortable, especially when you could feel Jay’s warmth in your arms.

“Y/N?” He called out your name.

You hummed, “yeah?”

“What are we?” he asked as he sat up to look at you.

“What do you mean?” you asked, also sitting up.

“I—what’s our relationship?” he gulped as he asked that, not sounding too confident, wondering if he’d be rejected.

“What do you want us to be?” you questioned, raising your brows.

Being with Jay was like a rollercoaster, you had grown a liking to him, more than you would like to admit.

His demure ways made you adore him, but he never hesitated to put a brave front for you and those cute efforts of his made you fall for him even more.

“I want us to be more than just friends,” he admitted.

You had bewitched Jay since the day you first talked to him, and the feeling only grew. He looked forward to spending time with you and soon it turned into yearning. He wanted to hold you in his arms and call you his, not wanting to share you with anyone else (ahem, Sunghoon), the phase might have been of only two months, but that was enough for him to fall for you.

“What’s more than friends?” you teased.

He pouted without even trying to, wondering if you were trying to ignore the topic because you didn’t want him, but seeing his expression, you frowned.

“Be my boyfriend,” you suddenly blurted out, not regretting it after.

Jay’s eyes widened comically, “w—what?”

You took a deep breath and laughed lightly, “Jay, baby, you’re so precious to me. Fuck! I like you so much, please be mine?” you expectantly stared at him.

His lips turned upwards and into the biggest smile you had ever seen on his face as he leaned forward and kissed you wordlessly, conveying his answer through it.

The kiss was deep and meaningful, “yes! yes, yes!” he squealed as you kissed him again.

“Hey, boyfriend,” you smiled.

“Hey, girlfriend,” he spoke with confidence, melting your heart as you pulled him down and into a hug which soon turned into a cuddling session.

Both of you fell asleep with smiles on your faces, your arms holding him tight.

Even after the competition, he couldn’t help but miss you every second of his day, texting you constantly, calling you at night just to stare at you during the two day holidays you had gotten.

The next time you met was after the competition was three days later at the school.

Jay saw Sunghoon approaching you, but he was faster as he stood in front of you, causing your eyes to widen at his sudden entry.

“Hi, baby,” he cooly said before placing a kiss on your lips.

You laughed at his childish behaviour as you see Sunghoon fuming from a distance.

“Getting protective, are we now?” you raised your eyebrow.

“You’re mine,” he tried to sound authoritative, but his voice came out in a whine.

“I’m yours,” you laughed, kissing him softly.

Safe to say, Sunghoon left after the little show Jay had put up and soon, the whole school knew about you two dating, half of them crying about how wrong the pairing is, you couldn’t care less though.

Jay was everything you needed and more, and you were going to cherish him for the rest of your life.

THANK YOU FOR READING!

TAGLIST: @ddeonuism @macaroonff @ajayke-reads @en-myworld @lunalovesstories @jayzdaze @deobitifull @silenth1lls @celeste-hoon @mari-oclock @kpoprhia @bolliwon @woniebae @lalalalawon @blessedcursd @skzenhalove

permanent taglist open! comment or send an ask to be added <3

#fic : the path to a nerd’s heart #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #jay smut #enha smut #jay x reader #kpop smut #enhypen imagines #park jay smut #sub!jay

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ladycatofwinterfell · 2 years

Text

A Ned/Cat/Ashara drabble inspired by @eddardofthehousestark ‘s idea. They’re having a date night and Ashara definitely knows what she wants to do

“Hey!”

Catelyn was in Ashara’s warm embrace before she had time to look up.

“Hi, Ash” she said as Ashara pressed a kiss to her cheek.

She raised an arm to attempt to hug her back without looking up from her screen. She was in the middle of a sentence, she couldn’t lose track. She had something good going.

As she tried to hug Ashara back she accidentally knocked her own glasses off her nose, leaving them diagonally across her face.

“Is Ned here yet?” Ashara asked, nuzzling her face into Catelyn’s neck.

She should have always had her girlfriend to snuggle her while she had to write academic papers. There was something about Ashara’s scent, warm vanilla, that cleared her mind. Maybe it should have been the opposite way, but Ashara brought out the best in her.

“Yeah, he’s in the shower” Catelyn answered, still somewhat absentmindedly, as she lowered her arm again and straightened her glasses.

Ashara kissed her cheek another time before letting her go, Catelyn missed her the moment she no longer felt her touch. And to her great dismay she lost her thought in the middle of a reasoning.

“Pretty and smart” Ashara smiled as she sat on the chair next to Catelyn’s. “Bingo.”

Catelyn just sighed, pushing her laptop away from her. She had been sitting at the kitchen table for hours, just writing and making research. It was really tiring, but she didn’t mind that particularly much because it was also really interesting.

“You still on for Saturday?” Ashara then asked.

“Of course.”

She had been looking forward to it for a week, finally they were all going out together. They never seemed to be available at the same time and so it was really hard to have a proper date. Though in two days it was finally time.

“What do you wanna do?” Catelyn said, taking the glasses off and placing them on the table before her.

Her girlfriend didn’t hesitate for even a second.

“You know what I want to do.”

She had been trying to drag them to the amusement park for weeks.

“Can’t we just have dinner and go watch a movie or something?”

“We have time to do something fun, why should we go to the movies?”

Catelyn took one of her hands into the both of hers, stroke her thumb up and down the back of her hand.

“Because we’re working and studying and we’re tired” she said. “I just want to spend time with my partners. And also you’re never getting Ned on a rollercoaster.”

“My darling Cat, one day I will get Ned on a rollercoaster.”

He really wasn’t an amusement park type of person. Not at all. He would definitely go with them if they wanted it, but they would never get him on one of the rides. He would stand on the ground and take pictures of them and eat popcorn.

“No, you–“

Ashara leaned forward and kissed her on the lips, effectively silencing her.

“Shut up” she mumbled as they parted.

Their faces were still so close that their noses almost touched and Ashara’s breath warmed her face.

“But I’m right” Catelyn whispered.

“About what?”

They looked up at their boyfriend. He was leaning against the doorway to the kitchen.

“Hello there” Catelyn smiled while Ashara wolf whistled.

He was wearing only a towel, tied around his waist. It wasn’t hard upon the eye at all. His damp skin, his wet hair falling down over his shoulders.

“What were you talking about?” Ned continued, ignoring them.

“Where to go on Saturday” Ashara told him.

Her eyes were fixed on his chest.

“Ash wants to go to the amusement park, and I told her she would never get you on a rollercoaster” Catelyn explained.

“She won’t” Ned said. “But we can go to the amusement park if you want to. It’s not all roller coasters.”

Catelyn turned to Ashara so that she could inform her of that she had told her so, but Ashara was quicker to open her mouth.

“Please, Cat, I just want to kiss someone in front of a rollercoaster camera and eat lots of candy floss and look at pretty lights. With my girlfriend and my boyfriend.”

After a moment Catelyn looked at Ned, who just shrugged at her.

“That does sound really fun” she admitted.

The triumphant smile on Ashara’s face made it hard to understand why she had been reluctant in the first place.

#catelyn stark #catelyn tully #ned stark #ashara dayne #ned x cat x ashara #my drabble

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going-dead · 3 years

Text

Phic Phight:Ghostly Inconvenience

Words:1672

@currentlylurking Team Human My First 2021 phic phight phic

Prompt from @Slyph-feather :Would love to see Danny dealing with some of the minor inconveniences/differences in being a ghost; slower heartbeat, sickly pallor, maybe not showing up correctly in photographs, etc... bonus points if this is like in the school setting (because I think that would be funny)

Danny thought he had all his ghost problems figured out, or at least was aware of all of them, at this point. Afterall he’s had his powers for almost a year now. He was wrong, oh was he wrong.

It was the first day of his sophomore year, no longer at the bottom of the high school food chain. He stood in line to get his picture taken for his school ID. Sam and Tucker had different classes for first period so they were off getting their pictures somewhere else. After a few minutes of board waiting it was his turn. Paulina skipped past him to get her ID and look at the picture she just took.

Danny told the photographer his name and she entered a few things into her computer before gesturing for him to stand in front of the camera. Danny tried to make a few last second adjustments to his hair. “Okay smile!” The camera woman called out as he was blinded by a flash of light.

Danny started walking over to the ID station but was stopped. “Oh hold on dear the photo came out pretty blurry I’ll have to retake it. It’s no big deal don’t worry you probably just moved too quickly after the flash went off, stay still after the picture is taken okay?”

Danny sighed but did what he was told. After another blinding flash and staying as still as possible Danny looked towards the woman. The camera woman bit her thumb staring at the computer in front of her. “Okay it still was blurry stay there I’m going to take a few at once one of them will turn out good.”

Danny was pretty sure at this point he was going to go blind as he blunk the spots out of his vision from the repeated flashes. Honestly this was getting pretty tiresome already. He walked up to the woman silently praying at least one picture turned out fine. She clicked through the photos face growing more and more confused with each one. “Uh is something wrong?” He asked.

She shook her head. “I’m not sure. Almost all of the photos turned out blurry and the ones that didn’t are weird.” She saw his questioning face. “You’ve heard of red eye right? What happens when you take a picture and sometimes the eyes of the people in the picture show up red? Well I can’t say I’ve seen this version of it in all my years of photography.” She turned the computer to face him more. On the screen it was a photo of him. The area around him was blurred, the only thing in focus was him, almost too in focus, and what really shocked him was his eyes in the photo. His eyes were glowing green in the picture, almost like when you took a picture of a cat in the dark.

Danny felt like a deer in headlights, what were the chances that she would make the connection of him not being human? The woman just shrugged. “Well it looks like we won’t be able to get a proper photo today. You can use your school photo from last year for your ID for now until retakes in a week.” He let out a sigh, it wasn’t too bad though he didn’t really look much different from the year before. At most he grew two inches. Though it was weird that it happened. He wondered if it was because of his ghostly half. He didn’t exactly take many or really any photos of himself. Danny walked over to the ID station to explain his situation and hoped that this wasn’t how the rest of the day would go.

During second period it was time for the sophomores to get their health checks done. Though most students were pretty sure it was mostly just an excuse for the local college’s medical students to get some more patient contact hours and hands on practice. This time he did share a class with his friends which was nice. Though it wasn't like they could go into an exam booth together. Calling them booths was a bit of a stretch though really they were just four curtains with equipment to take vitals and a chair inside. There were about a dozen or so lined up in the gym.

“Daniel Fenton come to booth five please.” A man called stepping out of one of the booths as he pulled a pair of gloves on.

Danny walked over to said booth and pulled the curtain shut behind him. The man motioned for him to sit down in the chair. Danny obliged and sat down he bounced his leg as he watched the man prepare the equipment. “Alright good morning Danny. I’m Josh, I'll be doing your check up today. It’s just a simple overview of your health no need to be nervous. All I’ll be doing is taking your vitals and checking your reflexes and the sort. Any questions?”

Danny shook his head. He was nervous though, he couldn’t help it. He had tried his best to avoid any type of medical setting ever since the accident. It would be the first time since then that someone actually took a close look at him. But it would probably be fine right? Not like he would be giving a blood sample here or anything.

It went fine at first as the man -Josh- checked his reflexes, checked his ears, eyes, nose, and mouth. He then affixed a blood pressure cuff to Danny’s arm and stuck a temperature probe in his mouth. Once the results appeared on the machines screen his head tilted a bit. “You usually run a bit cold? Hm your pulse is a bit slower than average than normal too.”

Danny silently cursed. “Uh yeah that's normal for me.”

“Well as long as it’s within your baseline there’s nothing really to worry about. I’m going to listen to your heart and lungs now okay? The stethoscope is a bit cold so be prepared.” Josh warned. When he started to listen to Danny’s heart he seemed at a loss again. “Give me one second okay? I’ll be right back.” He stood up and walked out through the curtain. Well that probably wasn't a good sign.

Josh returned a minute later with an older man in tow. “Danny, this is Dr. Bears he’s just going to double check something for me.”

Danny nodded his head giving the doctor an awkward smile. The doctor pulled out a stethoscope of his own and placed it over Danny’s chest. He seemed to listen for a few seconds before moving onto a different region. He gave a small grunt before motioning Josh over. “It’s faint but he does have a heartbeat.”

“Well I know that. He’s clearly alive, he's going to have a heartbeat Doc.”

Danny laughed awkwardly as he continued to watch the two interact. “Try listening again. You’ll probably have issues with the mitral and tricuspid regions though, even I could barely hear it.” The doctor motioned towards Danny before walking out of the booth.

A few minutes later a bunch of other medical students filled into the tent to try to listen to his heart beat. Danny wasn’t sure how he felt about being a case study for a bunch of med students but as long as they didn’t figure out his secret he wouldn’t worry about it too much.

By the time the bell rang to signal the end of the period half the college students there had listened to Danny’s chest. After emerging from the booth he was met with confused looks from his friends he waved them off promising to explain it to them later.

By the pattern that was emerging Danny was dreading third period. It was english with Mr. Lancer. After everyone took their seats Mr. Lancer stood in front of the class and clapped his hands to bring the classes attention to him. “Alright class I hope you all enjoyed your summer break. I have exciting news for this school year. Due to the grant given to our school we now have laptops for you all to use during class.”

The class broke out in whispers and Danny started to have a bit of hope for the rest of the day. Once the laptop cart was wheeled in and each was assigned and passed out to each student they were instructed to make accounts for them. The moment Danny turned the laptop on it gave him a shock. He let out a yelp and barely managed to restrain himself from knocking the thing off of his desk. He shook his hand trying to dispel the pain. He gave the laptop a hesitant poke, no shock. He started on his task of making an account, but was quickly interrupted by the screen glitching out. Danny groaned, occasionally electronics would bug out around him if he was in a particularly sour mood, of course it had to happen today. He waited for the screen to return to normal before trying to continue.

He just managed to get the account created when it gave him another shock. He yelled in shock once more. Immediately after the lights flickered and all the laptops in the room shut off and the one in front of him started to smoke. The whole class was staring at him and he shrunk under their gaze. They all had bigger problems though as his laptop caught fire and set off the fire alarms.

“Great Gatsby! Everyone out of the building now!” Mr. Lancer yelled ushering the teens out and leading them to the parking lot.

Once Mr. Lancer made sure they were all accounted for Sam elbowed Danny in the ribs. “Nice going Danny.” Danny just put his head in his hands and groaned while Tucker pat him on the back. Why couldn’t he just have a normal life? Or just a normal day for once in his half life.

#Phic Phight #phic phight 21 #danny phantom #team human

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mostlycompetentwriter · 3 years

Note

i have this request, where haven minho takes y/n out for a weekend car trip as her graduation gift or maybe could be a haven family trip for the youngers graduation, you can choose! love your blog <3

Pairing: Y/N x Lee Minho

Word Count: 3.1K

Genre: Haven AU; Found Families AU

Warnings: So. Much. Fluff.

“You’re gonna make me jealous if you aren’t more careful, baby.”

His tone was teasing, but I still took a moment to open my eyes, groaning because Changbin’s body heat was rather oppressive. “We’re just sleeping,” I grumbled.

“Looks a little too cozy,” Minho insisted, and he opened the door to my bedroom wider, inviting himself inside.

“Changbin’s never here anymore,” I pouted, rousing the man in question from his sleep as he chuckled and allowed the arm wrapped around my waist to hold me even tighter.

“I have a job,” he reminded me.

“And a girlfriend,” Minho added, giving me a knowing look. “You’re giving Changbin a difficult choice: you or his favorite girl.”

“Hey!” I protested, kicking out at him with my foot. “Everyone knows that I’m Changbin’s favorite girl.”

“Mhmm,” Changbin mumbled in response, but he was clearly too tired to give anyone a coherent response, already drifting back to sleep.

“Guess what?” Minho continued, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to me. “I have a surprise for you.”

“Oh?” I asked, feeling a little more alert as my heart gave a happy little flutter. “What is it?”

“You’re graduating Friday,” Minho said, and I smiled at the reminder, the idea of freedom looming in the near-distance.

So close I could almost feel it!!

“I’m the most excited,” I said. “Seungmin keeps complaining. Apparently, he’s not looking forward to four more years in University.”

“He knows it’s good for him,” Minho remarked, crossing his arms as we both thought about Seungmin’s decision - met with heavy tears from an over-emotional Chan when he found out about Seungmin’s scholarship.

“I’m just going to Felix the situation,” I said, smirking at Minho’s eye-roll. “Get my two-year degree online cuz’ it's cheaper and I won’t have to move away from you.”

“Oh, really?” Minho purred, but he looked rather pleased about the prospect, leaning down to offer me a deep kiss. “I like the sound of that, Y/N. But I also organized something for you and Seungmin. Consider it a graduation present.”

“Present?”

“A camping trip,” Minho said. “We’re going away this weekend. The original nine.”

“The original nine?” I repeated because it sounded so cliche, but the truth of the matter was that it also sounded really nice. Not that I didn’t want Sara and Lisa around, but just having our little family together? It seemed too good to be true.

“I’d say no girlfriends allowed...” Minho trailed off, raising one sultry brow at me that was far more suggestive than necessary.

“Uh-huh, so I’m the exception?” I grinned.

“I’d like to do this for you,” Minho said. “It would mean a lot.”

“And Seungmin too?” I asked, just because it was funny to watch Minho roll his eyes.

“Yes, Seungmin too.”

“Well, then,” I started, reaching out to pull Minho closer for another kiss, ignoring Changbin’s whines of complaint. “I guess I can’t exactly say no.”

It was already crowded in the living room the next morning, and Seungmin and I were both growing increasingly more annoyed with having cameras shoved into our faces. “Look over here!” Chan said, holding up his hand. “You guys look great!”

“It’s just a robe,” Seungmin grumbled, but we both stood shoulder-to-shoulder for yet another photograph.

“Cute,” Hyunjin decided, messing with the settings on his digital camera. “Should we do some shots in front of the house?”

“We’ll be late for the ceremony,” Seungmin said, desperately trying to get us out of the impromptu family photo shoot.

“Besides, neither of us are looking forward to sitting out in the hot sun for just our names to be called out once,” I added, and Seungmin snorted around a laugh while Chan looked nothing short of affronted.

“This is a big deal,” he insisted, putting down his phone to step forward and mess with Seungmin’s tie.

Again.

“Leave them alone, Chan,” Felix quietly intervened, and I gave him a grateful smile.

“Seriously,” Lisa said, rolling her eyes dramatically. “We can swarm them with pictures later.”

“Just...try and keep this on straight,” Chan told Seungmin, giving his appearance another once-over before nodding in satisfaction.

“The cars are waiting!” Changbin announced from outside, and Seungmin and I were more than willing to force our way through frantic hands and flashing smiles as our roommates proved to be an imposing obstacle.

“They’re just excited,” Sara whispered to me when I finally found reprieve in the sunshine, and I attempted a smile.

“I know,” I agreed, wrapping my arm through hers.

“They raised you,” she continued. “Let them be a little doting. I think I can understand.”

I nodded, even though I might not understand in the same way, but they were my family, and there weren’t many things I wouldn’t do for them.

The ceremony was hotter than I expected, and at one point, I whispered to Seungmin that he might need to be prepared to carry me off the field.

Thankfully, once our names were called, and we walked across the stage while ignoring the whistles and cheers from our section in the crowd, I was able to unzip my robe and allow some fresh air to soothe my overheated skin. “Could he have talked any longer?” Seungmin complained, referring to our principal's long and meandering speech about the importance of life after high school.

“I think he likes the attention,” I managed to get out, mere seconds before Changbin’s strong arms swept me up into an impossible hug in an attempt to squeeze the actual life from my lungs. “Dying,” I huffed around the last reserves of oxygen, and Sara had the wherewithal to convince Changbin that he probably shouldn’t be doing that on our school’s football field.

“Don’t!” I heard Seungmin whining from next to me, and I looked over just in time to see Hyunjin messing up the meticulous hairstyle he had spent hours perfecting that morning.

Meanwhile, a few of Seungmin’s school friends were watching, trying to call him over. “I’ll be right back,” Seungmin said, but he was immediately stopped by Chan who was cooing and crying at the same time, hugging Seungmin close to him in the same manner that Changbin had done to me.

“Oh, god, you’re embarrassing me,” Seungmin whined, shoving Chan away as he blushed at the sound of his friend’s laughter.

“Let the kid go,” Lisa said with a laugh, and Seungmin muttered out a quick thanks before practically sprinting over to his friends.

“It’s family time!” Hyunjin protested.

“He’ll be back,” Lisa said, smirking as she gave Hyunjin a pat on his shoulder. “You’ll all have plenty of time together on your top-secret camping trip.”

“It’s an expedition in the woods,” Jisung retorted. “Get it right.”

I shook my head, looking away from Jisung and Lisa just in time to find Minho with his gaze focused on mine. “Come here,” he said, opening his arms and inviting me into a welcoming embrace, whispering kisses across any surface of my skin he could access. “So proud of you.”

“Thank you,” I said, closing my eyes for a moment as I rested my chin atop his shoulder. “Did I rock that stage or what?”

Minho chuckled, and I could feel his chest vibrating against mine. “I’m mostly impressed that you could walk in those heels.”

“Yeah, me too,” I said, opening my eyes again only to spot a familiar face standing a little further apart from everyone else.

Slowly, I unwound my arms from around Minho, and he followed my gaze to the woman hunching her shoulders uncomfortably as she studied me from afar. “Hey, mom,” I said, and Minho tensed, looking between me and my mother like he was expecting a confrontation.

It was also at the same time when Chan decided to come over, greeting my mother with a respectful incline of his head. “Hi, Ms. Y/L/N,” he said.

“Chan, right?” my mother asked, and I swallowed hard because she had done that on purpose. There’s simply no other explanation for someone forgetting the name of the only person who allowed her to have continued involvement in her daughter’s life.

“Nice to see you,” Chan said, and I could tell that it took a lot for him to be so courteous.

“Well,” my mother sighed. “I just wanted to congratulate you, dear. There’s no way I could miss my own daughter’s graduation.”

“Thanks,” I muttered through gritted teeth. “I’m glad you came.”

She nodded her head, suddenly appearing a little more sheepish as more eyes started to notice her presence. “Call me soon,” she requested. “Maybe I can take you out for a proper celebration?”

“Sure,” I lied, watching her closely as she shuffled in place.

“You have my number,” she said, giving me one last considerate look before allowing herself to be swept away with the other parents leaving toward the parking lot.

I shuddered once she was out of sight, leaning more of my weight against Minho who was always more than willing to support me whenever I was at my weakest and most vulnerable.

It was always like that with my mother.

“Jisung stole my french fries!”

“Did not!”

“Really? Then what the hell happened to them? Did they just disappear?”

“I guess so!”

I cracked my eye open at the ridiculous conversation, glancing over to my right to see Changbin mere seconds away from exploding on Jisung and Hyunjin who were arguing so vehemently from the backseat. His fingers were clenched tight around the steering wheel, brows furrowed together, and his mouth twisted into something unpleasant.

“Hyunjin,” he breathed around an exhale. “Jisung.”

“He started it!” Jisung said.

“That’s not true!” Hyunjin retorted. “He’s just mad because he ordered a medium!”

“How old are the two of you?” Changbin asked, rolling his eyes as he glanced up at the rearview mirror. “Jeongin, I’m sorry you have to put up with this shit.”

I finally cracked a smile, turning around in my seat to look at Jeongin. “How long has this been going on for?”

“Ten minutes,” the youngest informed me with a sober frown.

“I’m this close to calling Chan and throwing one of your asses into his car,” Changbin said, holding his fingers close together to indicate that he was on the last vestiges of patience.

“Whatever,” Hyunjin grumbled. “S’ not my fault.”

“Oh, yeah, the picture of innocence,” Changbin muttered, and I resisted the urge to laugh as I reached over to give Changbin’s hand a reassuring squeeze.

“How far away are we from the campsite?”

“30 minutes,” Changbin said. “Hallelujah.”

I nodded and relaxed further into my seat, enjoying the benefits of winning a competitive game of rock-paper-scissors to determine which of us would get the privilege of riding in the passenger seat. As always, Changbin and Chan became our designated drivers, especially since Minho insisted that he didn’t have the patience to drive and watch over everyone else.

“Can the two of you keep your shit together long enough for us to make it to the campsite without calling Chan?”

“Yeah,” Hyunjin and Jisung echoed together at the same time, and Changbin let out a deep breath, cursing under his breath as I smirked and turned my attention to the passing clouds outside.

“Everyone pair up!” Chan announced once we had all of our supplies together at the campsite, with our bags and equipment scattered around the circle's circumference.

“Me and Y/N,” Minho said, pulling me close with a raised brow. “Obviously.”

“Gross,” Jisung huffed. “I want Felix!”

“No way!” Hyunjin protested. “Felix is my partner!”

“Did Felix even agree to this?” Chan asked, and he looked at the younger one who merely shrugged in response.

“I’ll decide, then,” Chan intervened. “Minho and Y/N, Seungmin and Jeongin, Changbin and Felix, and Jisung and Hyunjin.”

“Seriously?” Hyunjin sighed. “Chan, that’s like the worst idea you’ve ever had.”

“Seconded!” Jisung agreed.

“Well, you can work on putting aside your differences for one night,” Chan replied. “And I’m getting my own tent because I’m tired of everyone’s bullshit.”

“Seems fair,” Felix nodded.

“Let’s split up,” Chan continued. “We can get everything set up.”

His orders were met by various murmurs of consent, and I giggled when Minho came up behind me to wrap an arm around my waist. “Come on, partner,” he whispered, and I followed him to where he had already scoped out a good spot to pitch our tent.

“How the hell do you even do this?” Hyunjin wondered aloud, glancing between the instructions to the sad pile of rods and fabric situated messily on the ground.

“Give it to me,” Jisung grumbled. “It’s obviously too complicated for you to figure out.”

“Whatever,” Hyunjin retorted, and he sat down in the middle of the circle and pulled out his phone. “No service. Just great.”

“You could use some fresh air outside, Jinnie,” Minho said, and I was more than inclined to let my boyfriend shoulder most of the work.

“Maybe we could go hiking together?” Jeongin suggested.

“Like with bears and shit?” Jisung asked, already disregarding building his tent for something that sounded a whole lot more interesting.

“You know what?” Chan asked. “That sounds like a good idea! Jeongin can take Jisung and Hyunjin somewhere far away for hiking, and anyone else who wants to go can join them.”

“But what about the tent?” Jisung questioned, pointing down to the incomplete lack of progress he had made.

“I’ll handle it,” Chan insisted, and it was with great reluctance that Hyunjin followed an over-eager Jisung, Seungmin, and Jeongin further into the solitude of the woods.

“Thanks for the peace and quiet,” Changbin eventually said, interrupting the solitude to vocalize what everyone else had been thinking.

“Yeah, no problem,” Chan grumbled, but I knew that he wasn’t that upset. After all, his family meant more to him than anything else in the world.

Later that night, once all the tents were pitched and Changbin and Felix returned with Jeongin and his hiking crew who had apparently forgotten to bring a compass with them, Chan had us all sitting around the fire toasting marshmallows and sharing pleasant conversation about whatever topic struck us at the moment.

In the meantime, I was more than content in Minho’s arms, propped up against his strong chest as his fingers worked themselves through the tangles in my hair. “How about some ground rules for tonight?” Seungmin ventured at one point, gesturing towards me and Minho with a loose hand. “No sex in the tents.”

“What about outside of them?” Minho asked with a suggestive tone.

“I stand by my gross comment from before,” Jisung said, wrinkling his nose in disgust as he stuffed another marshmallow into whatever room remained in his cheeks.

“No sex, period,” Chan said. “Should I even have to say that?”

“Well, we are celebrating,” Minho said, and I tried not to squirm when he dug his fingers into my side.

“No loud music either,” Changbin continued, and I was grateful that he decided to guide the conversation away from me and Minho.

“Who does that?” Jisung asked.

“Felix,” Changbin said, and he gave the younger a look. “I can hear you all the way upstairs at home.”

“I can always change it for you,” Felix said, nonchalant as always as he sipped at his water bottle.

“Let’s just enjoy ourselves,” Chan suggested. “As hard as that may be for some of you.”

“I’m more than capable of relaxing,” Hyunjin said, but then he screeched and quickly stood up from the log he had been sitting on. “Why are there so many beetles?”

“Cuz’ it’s the woods?” Seungmin said, sharing a quick exchange with Jeongin to which the youngest merely nodded in response.

“This is for Y/N and Seungmin,” Changbin said, and he lifted his marshmallow roasting stick high into the air. “Cheers to them.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” I said, lifting mine as well even though it seemed utterly ridiculous.

“Hazaa!” Jisung shouted, and he stood up next to Hyunjin as he raised his high above his head, dripping remains of his marshmallows leaking down the handle.

“Are we really doing this?” Seungmin grumbled in complaint, but one by one each of us contributed to our weird display of solidarity.

“Okay, enough before someone comes by and wonders what the hell we’re trying to do,” Chan said.

“Or before someone pokes an eye out,” Minho added with a grunt, pulling me back against him with a gentle kiss.

“We can just skip to the speeches instead,” Jisung said, and he clapped his hands together as he indicated between me and Seungmin. “Who goes first.”

“I will, I guess,” Seungmin said, and he reluctantly stood up and waved off the cheers from everyone else. “Thanks for all the support,” he said, pursing his lips in deep concentration as he tried to put something together. “You’re cool. Sometimes.”

“Hell yeah!” Jisung yelled, and I stifled my laughter at Seungmin’s brevity.

“Now, Y/N,” Hyunjin said, and I groaned but unwound Minho’s arms long enough to stand next to the fire.

“Sure,” I said, searching for the right words. “It’s weird to be here because I never really saw any kind of future for myself until I met you guys.” I swallowed hard, nearly choking around the sudden flood of emotion clogging my throat. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I can’t wait for whatever might come next.”

“Y/N,” Jeongin sniffled once I sat back down.

“Such a sweetheart,” Minho whispered into my ear, holding me in close to him in reassurance as Chan roughly wiped away a tear.

“Alright, enough speeches,” he said, voice breaking once as he tried to regain his composure. “I love this, you know? Just the nine of us.”

“Let’s do it more often,” Felix said, always interrupting at the right moments.

“I agree,” Changbin nodded, and I didn’t even realize he had been crying until I took in the sight of his bloodshot eyes.

“Binnie,” I whispered, and he shook his head, giving me a warm smile.

“Felix can turn on his shitty music,” Changbin said. “Hyunjin and Jisung can fight to their heart's content.”

“And me and Y/N...” Minho trailed off, but Changbin quickly changed his tone.

“Anything but that,” he grunted.

“I think we should just look at the stars,” Felix said, and he was already lying back on his blanket, hands folded behind his head as he looked up at the night sky loaded so brilliantly with freckles of light.

“Good idea,” Jeongin said, and I only saw him fall backward before Minho was forcing me into a tight embrace, facing one another on our sides as we exchanged gentle puffs of oxygen.

“The stars aren’t as beautiful as you,” he whispered.

“Cheesy.”

“I’m serious,” he said, and his fingers traced over the ridges of my lips. “I love you, Y/N. Everyone here loves you.”

“I know,” I said, and it was all I could manage because the atmosphere was suddenly charged with something heavy.

But Minho understood. He always did. Bringing my head closer to his chest, so I could listen to the calming combination of background conversations about everything and the soothing reverberation of his heart thumping in time to a special melody that only I had the privilege of understanding.

#Minho request

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elisaphoenix13 · 4 years

Text

Dreams Of Routine

Dust.

It was everywhere. Around him, on his hands, and in him with every breath he took.

It was a nightmare Tony had often and had him waking in the middle of the night and staring up at the ceiling as he got his thundering heart to slow down. When it finally did, that's when he braved looking around the bedroom. Sometimes he didn't have to look to know that Stephen was sleeping beside him because Tony would hear him breathing first. One usually had to strain to hear it but Tony was accustomed to the soft breaths his spouse took while he slept. The next thing he did was look past Stephen's side of the bed and find the crib against the wall with their infant daughter sleeping soundly in it.

One kid accounted for. Now for the other six. Tony turns toward his nightstand and grabs the tablet laying on the surface and mutters to Friday to bring up the 'Baby Monitors'. Six separate camera views popped up silently and Tony sighs quietly when the other six kids are shown sleeping in their beds. Tony's nightmare of watching Stephen and Peter turn to dust in front of him was constant enough that he needed a better way to check on the kids without getting up and wandering the tower to look in on every single one of them.

Harley, Peter, Diana...all asleep down the hall. Cassie was safe in her room downstairs, and so were Thomas and William. The kids knew about the cameras and Tony made sure to tell them they were specifically for moments like these. If they were getting dressed or otherwise...occupied, Friday would inform him they were safe but keep the video off. It was an electronic version of Quill's Celestial gaze, but for all the kids. Tony of course included Cassie because he had raised her for those five years and she turned into an honorary kid that he very much wanted safe just as much as his actual kids.

With another shaky sigh of relief, Tony turns off the tablet and places it back on the nightstand before turning back over and wrapping an arm around Stephen. He pulls the sorcerer close and buries his nose into dark hair, smelling a light trace of…flowers? What the hell was Stephen washing his hair with? Tony wasn't complaining, it smelt nice, but he definitely wasn't expecting flowers.

"Nightmare?" Stephen mumbles sleepily and Tony grunts in response. "Need to cuddle Athena?"

Tony chuckles. "No. Just you. I don't think she'll be real happy cuddling me anyway."

Stephen merely chuckles quietly and Tony falls asleep a little while after the sorcerer dozes off. Hearing him breathe was soothing to his nightmare frayed nerves and it was enough to lull him into a thankfully dreamless sleep. When he awoke again, sunlight was streaming through the windows that he cleverly made so that it would dim the otherwise blinding morning sunlight. Tony also woke to Stephen exiting their bathroom fully dressed for the day and walking over to Valerie's crib. The infant was rubbing her eyes as she yawned cutely, waiting patiently for Stephen to retrieve her for their morning routine.

It still amazed Tony how quiet Valerie was. She hardly cried, and whenever she did, it was for one of two reasons. Either Stephen was off for some Sorcerer Supreme duty or a stranger made her extremely uncomfortable and she wasn't with anyone she trusted. The second very rarely happened. She didn't even cry when she was sick or if she fell and scraped her knee.

Her not crying when she was sick had it's pros and cons, and right now it was a con, because just as Stephen made it over to her crib, Valerie let out a bark like cough that had Tony sitting up in worry. Worry fills Stephen's eyes as he immediately scoops her up and places a shaky hand against her forehead to check her temperature.

"Victor, scan for her temperature and any other abnormalities." The sorcerer commands immediately as Tony gets out of bed to join him.

"She's showing symptoms of croup Doctor. I recommend running a hot shower and standing in the bathroom for her cough." The AI responds.

Stephen rolls his eyes. "I know how to treat croup Victor, but thank you anyway."

"Povero topolina." Tony mumbles as he gently brushes Valerie's hair away from her face. "I wonder how she got it."

"Likely the park." Stephen says as Valerie lays her head against his collarbone and coughs again. "William put her in one of the swings. I thought I had made sure she was washed up afterwards."

"She'll be okay. Her mommy is the best doctor in the world." Tony smiles and kisses Stephen's cheek.

"I was a neurosurgeon Tony, not a pediatrician."

"Oh please, you could be a pediatrician. I've seen you studying every available text in child healthcare because we have six kids and you want to be able to take care of them whenever they get sick. You're already listed as their doctor." Tony scoffs and Stephen blushes.

"You know, I still think Peter's teacher thinks I'm a joke."

"He won't go against any of your notes anymore because he knows I'll sue him if he does. Are you staying up here with her?" Tony asks as he walks over to the bedroom door.

"I'll have to until at least her fever breaks or she can give it to the other kids." Stephen says as he walks over to the bed and sits down. "We'll watch a movie and I'll take her into the bathroom if I need to."

"Breakfast in bed it is." The engineer says as he leaves the room and walks down to the kitchen.

To his surprise, he found Bucky cooking breakfast, and the twins munching on some strawberries at the breakfast counter as they watched.

"What are you two doing up so early?" Tony asks as he heads straight for the coffee machine behind the soldier.

"Just one of those days." Thomas shrugs. "Where's Mom?"

"Upstairs with the baby. Val is sick." He answers as he sets the coffee up and presses the button to start brewing it.

William frowns. "Should I go help?"

"Nope. The baby has croup and Stephen doesn't want anyone else to get it. If you want to help, you can sanitize everything." Tony answers quickly and William actually nods before getting up.

Even Thomas followed. William was always happy to help with Val and bonded with her like Cassie had with Diana, so seeing him get up to sanitize Valerie's toys wasn't a surprise. Thomas on the other hand wasn't as close to the girls, but he probably wanted to help in some way too. Tony watched briefly as they grabbed the things they needed and then cleaned every perceivable thing that the baby could have touched while being careful not to touch themselves until they washed their hands. With William's magic and Thomas's speed, it was done within ten minutes and the boys were washed up by the time Tony was pouring coffee into his mug.

"Want me to put something aside for Mama Bear?" Bucky asks and Tony nods.

"Would you? I did promise him breakfast in bed. Why are you up here anyway?"

"Steve is still on that recovery mission. It got a little too quiet." Bucky says quietly.

"There will be plenty of noise up here soon. Crash on the couch until Capsicle gets home if you want." Tony offers.

"Yeah. Thanks Tony."

The next couple of days passed that way. Tony kept the kids downstairs, and Stephen stayed upstairs with Valerie until her fever broke. The first night had been the worst. The baby woke up multiple times coughing and Stephen got up more than half the time to take her into the bathroom and start a shower so he could stand in the steam with Valerie to help with her cough. Tony took over after the third time because Stephen actually groaned the fourth time Valerie woke up with a whimper and another barking cough. He was exhausted, and thankfully the baby didn't mind being taken care of by her father.

The second night, she only woke up a couple of times and Athena stood with both Stephen and Tony dutifully when they cared for her. The wolf, like Levi, had taken it upon herself to be a self appointed nanny much to the parent's amusement. Levi blanketed a sick child, and Athena alerted Stephen if one of the kids fell ill. The sorcerer already had a sixth sense about that kind of thing, but ever since Athena joined the family, not a single kid (or adult) could get away with lying about their health.

Valerie's fever broke the second day and her cough was nearly gone by the third day when Stephen deemed her well enough to rejoin the family. She was back to her early morning routine with Stephen and Athena, and was eating some cereal puffs in her highchair while Stephen prepared breakfast for not only the wolf but also Flynn. Getting the fox to leave Quill's side long enough to take advantage of the portal to the lake house (for business) had been a chore the first couple of weeks. Athena eventually had to scruff the kit and carry him through to the lake house, teach him what it meant, and then scruff him again to take him back through the portal to the tower for breakfast. Flynn cried and struggled in the wolf's grip the first few days, but when he realized food was part of the deal and that Athena would promptly return him to Quill after breakfast, he stopped fighting.

Now he just chirped sleepily and hung half asleep when Athena scruffed him for the morning routine. When breakfast was devoured, he was either scruffed or walked back to Scott and Quill's floor.

"'thena?" Valerie asks as Stephen sets both bowls on the ground for the animals when they returned. The small portal sitting open by the entryway.

"And Flynn." Stephen says as he washes his hands and starts on a proper breakfast for Valerie.

The baby giggles when Flynn scrambles through the portal to his bowl, practically burying his face in it to eat as Athena came through at a much calmer pace and Stephen closed the portal with a flick of his wrist. She joined Flynn to eat and as soon as they finished, Stephen watched her lead the kit to the door to the stairs and open it with a button Tony had installed for her.

Athena liked to patrol the tower occasionally when the kids weren't all in one area, and it especially came in handy when Flynn glued himself to Quill and came home with him.

"Please tell me you have some coffee going." Quill groans the second he steps off the elevator, dressed in his station outfit.

Stephen wrinkles his nose. "You smell like smoke."

"Gee, wonder why." He snarks as Stephen starts the coffee maker.

"Your leech just went back upstairs."

"Eh, he'll find me." The Celestial sighs as he sits at the breakfast counter. "It'll be a nice two minutes not having him attached to my leg."

Stephen snorted and gave Valerie a bowl of baby cereal and a spoon to feed herself as he started breakfast for everyone else, and true to Quill's estimation, Flynn and Athena came back a couple minutes later. The kit yipped loudly and ran over to Quill, only hesitating briefly when he smelt smoke on the god before jumping up and climbing onto his lap to nuzzle Quill affectionately and obnoxiously.

"Yeah, yeah. Hey buddy. Missed you too. Lay down." Quill grouses and Flynn immediately curls up in his lap.

"At least he's listening more." Stephen observes as Athena lays at her usual place at the end of the counter.

"He's still got a ways to go."

"He'll get there."

"He'll be a little terror the entire time." Quill laughs. "No doubt afterwards too."

"The pet truly reflects the owner." Stephen smirks.

"Hey!"

#ironstrange #stephen strange #tony stark #supremefamily #mama bear stephen strange #antlord #peter quill #william kaplan #thomas shepherd #athena the wolf #flynn the fox #valerie stark strange (oc)#mama bear au #bucky barnes

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mrvdocks · 4 years

Text

Just Ask ll

Part 1.

“What an asshole,” you mutter, walking right to the bar. “I shouldn’t have come, I’m such an idiot.”

You don’t know what you’re going to do, you just know you need something to be able to tolerate him if and when you go back.

After downing multiple shots, you trudged down the hall, trying to walk as best you could back to the roomette. If liquid courage could help you at any time, it had to be this one. You were planning what you’d say to him, making up a conversation in your head and giving yourself the best arguments and points and ending with him begging for forgiveness, and then maybe, just maybe, you could actually get the ball rolling on the friction you’d been feeling. You smile to yourself, eager to battle it out, and make the leap to open the door. Your smile drops.

He sits there, knees to chest, just staring at the wall. Unconsciously chewing on his lip, just like the good ol’ days. When he notices you, he stops and speaks up. “Hey.”

You sigh, clearly exhausted. You open your mouth to hurl at least an insult or something to make him know you’re still game to argue. When nothing comes out, you abandon all anger and move to sit next to him.

Shoulder to shoulder, you still can’t bring yourself to look at him. Not directly at least.

“What are we doing, Billy?”

You feel like you’re back in college, in the aftermath of hashing it out and taking a breather over something stupid that doesn’t matter. It seemed so simple then, and here you two were now. Avoiding things and people, and you were adding more wood into the fire you haphazardly helped to start.

“I dunno,” He whispers. “Just….thinking.”

There was something he wasn’t saying. It wasn’t fair that only your secrets came to light tonight. You needed to even the score. “Why’d you send RUN?”

“Why did you?” He counters.

“I asked first.”

He chuckled to himself. “To be quite honest, I was….blithering drunk and lonely.”

Your brows perked up. “So you made me drop everything I care about because you got drunk?”

You weren’t too mad, the liquor had made sure to placate you. You just felt a tinge of annoyance at him. Nonetheless, his recklessness struck a chord in you. It was a tango, it took two, and it only took two seconds for you to ruin your life for him.

“Why did you?” He asked, this time turning his head to meet yours.

You buried your face in your hands, groaning. “I have no idea.”

You do have some idea. You can’t remember a time of normalcy. The domestic life was constraining at times. Not that you didn’t love your son, but you missed certain things before him. How ironic, here you were with an ex and missing your son, yet when you were with Charlie, all you did was miss Billy. You imagined a different path, a dream, maybe Billy could’ve been Charlie’s father and not - you shook your head.

“What?” Billy’s voice brought you back to reality.

“Where the hell were you?” Your voice quivered.

His brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Why now? Why so late?”

His face fell, some understanding showing.

“I needed you, a long time ago,” Your voice began to crack. “I was doing fine without you! I had you out of my system, I was getting over you.”

Then I saw your face, and now I can’t erase 15 years worth of yearning for you.

Somewhat of a lie, but you didn’t think you should be unloading almost every painful feeling of longing you had for him. He just listened intently, knowing that every word that came from you was a huge hit to your pride.

“I’m sorry. Look, I wish I could give you some sort of explanation that isn’t half-assed but there isn’t. I’m just a screw-up.” And maybe I just missed you, a lot.

You laughed bitterly, half-assed was right.

“What do you see when you look at me, Billy? Am I a screw up to you too?”

“No!” He places his hands on your shoulders, gentle with you. “We all fuck up. It’s been 15 years, something’s bound to change. No one seems to have it all together.”

With a pitiful scoff, you can’t help but feel seen. To feel like he knows how to ‘fake it till you make it’. And boy, does he know. But he won’t tell you this, yet.

Your head lulls down but he places his finger under your chin, forcing you to look at him. You’re emotionally bare in front of him, and he knows it won’t be long till he’s in your position. But it can wait.

“I like you, still. Maybe even more. You’re sexier, you don’t take my shit or probably anyone’s, you’re probably kicking my ass - career-wise I think.”

You give him an easy smile, the corners of your eyes wet for a moment before he wipes it away.

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious,” He laughs. “I think I might be the worst bastard in history.”

“Maybe not the worst.”

He feigns shock but nonetheless sees that you’re feeling better. Unless the front you were putting was more convincing than his ever was.

“Give me one day.” He pleads.

“One day?”

“One day. We can do whatever you want and if you love it then we keep this train going and see where this leads us, or at the end of the day if you still feel homesick, we can go our separate ways.”

I’ll let you go. He almost said. He just got you back, and he would be damned if he was going to let you go without a fight or at least a proper vacation. How selfish of him, but sometimes you had to be.

“I…..okay.”

He smiled from ear to ear, internally sighing in relief. “Great! I think this calls for a celebratory nap,” He checks his phone, it’s two am. “We’ve got a solid five hours and then the fun begins.”

Stepping out into the cool breeze of Chicago, you feel a little bit more optimistic about your relationship with Billy. Home was on the back burner for now, today was about you and your needs.

You stared at the train ticket, eyes flying everywhere trying to figure out what time the next train would come. Got to time that goodbye, maybe.

“Maybe it’s just me and the lack of sleep but I cannot find the next train time.”

“I can check.” He offers, suddenly distracted by the phone ringing. He seems anxious based on whatever he just received but puts up a calm front. “Be back in a bit.” With that, he walks back into the station.

You watch people walking, cars pass and get lost in the city soundscape. A woman passes you and hands you a brochure. The Cloud Gate at Millennium Park. It seemed interesting enough.

“Twenty-four hours till the next train, everything’s going according to plan.” He smiles warmly.

“Great.” You feign excitement. “Except, where will we sleep?”

“That, my dear, can be solved with a hotel room.”

The thought of you two in a hotel room made your mind reel. Not in a bad way of course, but well at least the room would be an upgrade from the tiny roomette. Who knows, the day is still young and maybe your horny prayers would be answered this time.

“Let’s get one now.” You were almost too eager as you took him by the hand and were on your merry way to finding a hotel. He wasn’t complaining.

“Someone’s excited.”

“Is it such a crime to want to fuck someone after being blue balled for twenty-four hours?”

“You know you can’t undo this.”

“Well, I don’t want to unfuck you. Do you?”

“No, ma’am.”

“That poor girl.” You said in a half horrified and half-embarrassed tone.

“What?” Billy asked as if he didn’t just have his hands all over your ass in the lobby. You were thankful you remembered to wear something underneath the skirt you had, afraid that the lobby cameras and some schmuck would’ve had tickets to a free peep show.

“I don’t know whether to smack you or berate you.” You whispered.

“You could fuck me.” The bastard smiled smugly.

You laughed nervously, ashamed to meet the passing eyes of people outside the hotel who’d heard that. “Very fucking funny.”

His shoulders shook as he laughed, content with himself.

“Okay, can we focus on the fact that that room was worth my rent and then some? Where the hell are we going to get all that money?”

“I’ll take care of that.” He said.

Within minutes, he was able to walk into a bank and you stood outside taking in your surroundings. Your eyes trailed off looking everywhere, trying to find something to pass the time. Your eyes landed on an ice cream cart not too far away and as if on cue, your stomach grumbled.

You placed a hand on top of your stomach. “Forgive me.”

You nabbed two cones, immediately devouring one and holding onto the other for Billy. When he came out, you gave him his quickly, afraid that you’d eat more than you’d like to. You raised your brows as if to ask if he’d gotten the money.

“It’s going to take a couple of hours.”

You hummed, dejected.

“Up for some sightseeing?” He asked. You nodded through a mouthful of ice cream and passed him the brochure.

The walk was long but you didn’t mind. It was a clear day, sun shining on the water and the chatter of people made you feel like you were in some cheesy rom-com with the love of your life without a care in the world. If only it were that easy.

“What do you think it means?” Billy asks, looking up at the reflective silver bean.

You mess with your reflection, pulling funny faces and taking some snapshots of it.

“That you definitely need more iron in you.”

He scrunches his face.

“How pretentious we must be. We’re analyzing a giant space bean.”

“Oh yes, 19 year old you must be so proud.” You quip, knowing he was the exact opposite of a valedictorian.

“Hmm no, that was more your expertise. Museum dates, staying in the library at ungodly hours, and making me study my arse off.”

“And now look at me. Totally living the life.” You couldn’t help but take a shot at yourself. Yes, you were smart, but what good had it done for you? Still a hopeless romantic.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Shit on yourself like that. You turned out way better than I did, I guess you leaving me was the right choice.”

“I didn’t leave, you did.”

“And what a screw up it was, hm?” He knows, no he admits, what a gargantuan screw up it was. “I always thought, now I can’t slow you down. She must be out there with an amazing career after all the shit I’ve put her through, and you do.”

“I lied.”

“What?”

“I’m not a nurse,” You’re word vomiting now. “Fuck’s sake I can’t even look at blood without fainting. I failed the program. I decided to choose something my mom didn’t lead me towards so I became a teacher and a…..failed writer.”

He nods and swallows.

“And then I met him. And I thought, maybe this is the right one. Maybe this time I could move on. He gave me the attention I thought I wanted. He gave me everything. But then I’d see you everywhere and I just couldn’t do it yet.”

“You still see him?” His voice is strained, and you pretend like you don’t see his jaw clench asking about this other lover.

You shake your head. “Fucker moved to a different state by the time I found out I was pregnant. I didn’t want him to come back but I also didn’t want to be lonely. So I kept Charlie.”

“I know.”

You smile thinking of your son. “He absolutely hates it when I sing. He loves to just throw a stuffed animal at me anytime I’m close to even thinking of singing.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Okay, well it’s a lot funnier than it seems.”

“I mean, you are kind of a bad singer.”

You punch his arm playfully. He yelps.

“No, I’m not!”

“I remember you trying to sing that god awful pop song in the shower every time and I’d always have to come in to shut you up.”

“You’re just jealous of my voice.”

“I bet the animals are too.” He chuckles. He yelps again as you punch his arm.

His phone dings in his pocket again, but you don’t notice him go into anxious mode again. Your eyes are admiring the architecture around you. He slips it back in and you turn your attention to him again.

“We should go shopping.”

You raise a brow. “Since when do you shop for yourself?”

“Come on, you don’t want to feel the richest you’ve ever been in some fancy new clothes in a hotel room?”

You hum. “I guess I’m overdue for some things.” Your blouse and skirt combo aren’t exactly feeling too fresh anymore and you think of the pretty lace sets you could find for tonight.

“What kinds of things?” He gives you a once over, practically undressing you with his eyes.

“I guess you’ll find out.”

You’ve never set foot in a store this fancy. You don’t see yourself as living this luxury. But a beautiful lavender dress blesses your eyes and you can’t help but take curious strides to it. The material basically melts in your hand, soft and silky.

“This is nice.”

“Very nice.”

You check the tag on the arm sleeve and recoil. “Eh, not that nice.”

“Buy it! It’ll look great on you.”

“That’s like $700, do you know what I can buy with $700?”

“It’s a special night. We’re traveling, we’re together. Can you honestly not say you’re dreaming of something like this?”

“If I told you I had used my savings for this trip, would you forgive me?” You winced, traveling was not cheap nor was it forgiving to your bank account.

“Here, take this.” He says, pulling out a wad of bills from his pocket like nothing. You feel like you’re asking your sugar daddy to fund your next shopping trip.

“How did you - I can’t take this.”

“Shh. Buy yourself something nice. Ok, that sounded wrong but it’s true.”

“Billy.”

“Think of it as a gift.”

You nod hesitantly but thank him.

“Alright, I’ll see you back at the hotel in an hour. Have fun.”

With that, he runs off and you turn back to your options. This was going to be a long hour.

#run hbo #hbo run #domnhall gleeson x reader #billy johnson x reader

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rohad93 · 4 years

Text

Authority Online : ch 11

“What do you think about camping?” Celeste asked while they had dinner in a restaurant two weeks after she had spent the night at Jaune’s place.

This was the first time they had seen each other since that Sunday morning because Celeste had an influx of graduation cake orders for all the upcoming graduation parties that required her and both her assistants to work nearly nonstop the previous weekend.

Jaune had been disappointed by not being able to see her but she understood and had used the weekend to get ahead in her own work, and it wasn’t as though they didn’t talk on the phone whenever they had a free moment, texting during their lunches or whenever they took breaks.

Finally, it was the end of May and all the orders had been picked up for the parties going on this weekend, and Celeste had invited her out to dinner, which Jaune quickly accepted; more than a little eager to see her.

The two weeks gave Celeste time to think of ways she could get her girlfriend to interact with her family so Rose wouldn’t be so suspicious and untrusting of Jaune.

“Camping, like outside in a tent?” She looked up from her dinner and asked.

“Yeah.” She nodded. “Next weekend my sister, brother in law and I are taking Steven camping for the long weekend, I was wondering if you’d want to come with us…”

“It sounds like a family trip to me…” Jaune was looking back down at her food.

“Yes, but, Rose… she was not at all happy with me for not telling her that I hadn’t planned to come back from your place till later Sunday, she was afraid you’d murdered me,” she snorted.

“What?” Jaune looked up at that, eyes wide.

“Not seriously… probably,” she mumbled the last part under her breath. “It’s just that they don’t know you at all yet, so I think spending so much time with you makes my sister a little nervous," she explained.

Jaune hummed, picking at her food. She understood what Celeste was talking about, she and her sister and her family were very close and she was going to have to get to know them if she intended to hang around, but she had never really been an outdoor person. In fact, she normally actively avoided that kind of thing. She sunburned horribly and was an attractant to mosquitoes. Were it anything else there wouldn’t have been a once of hesitation.

“I’m not sure, Celeste, I...,” she started and could see the ever so slightly disappointed look that began to creep onto her girlfriends face that she was trying to hide and immediately felt guilt creep up on her that that beautiful face should ever be anything but happy.

“I don’t really know how to camp, I’ve never been,” she said instead of what she wanted to say, which was that she didn’t now nor ever, had any interest in camping.

Celeste seemed to perk up at that.

“It’s really not hard,” she promised. “We used to go all the time as kids, I can teach you. It’s really a lot of fun, this will be the first time we’ve ever taken Steven.,” she excitedly rambled off and Jaune knew, one way or another, she was going to end up camping.

~ ~ ~

It was still pitch black out when she pulled up in front of the bakery the following Saturday. The street was devoid of cars, the only light coming from the streetlamps. The neon green light from her radio clock glowed in the darkness, showing the time.

4:55 AM

She yawned and turned off the ignition and grabbed her to-go cup of coffee and climbed out of her car. She pulled her duffle bag out of the backseat and closed the door before hitting the lock on the key fob.

The shop’s front door was open as promised, and she quietly made her way through the dark shop into the kitchen. Everything was dark and still in here as well. She climbed the dark stairwell up to the third floor. Bypassing the second-floor apartment, only glancing at it as she moved up the stairs to the top floor and knocked on the door.

It was only a few seconds before the door swung open, revealing her broadly grinning girlfriend.

“You’re right on time.” She stepped forward and Jaune smiled to herself as she stood on her toes to peck the lawyer’s lips. “Did you get everything you needed?

“I think so.” she gave her duffle bag a shake, drawing the baker’s gaze downward.

“Great, we should be leaving in just a few minutes. You can come in, I’m just finishing up a few things…” She moved to let the blonde come in as she disappeared down a hall.

Jaune sat her bag on the floor by the door as she walked in. This was the first time she had ever been inside Celeste’s apartment and somehow it was exactly as she figured it would be.

The living room was painted in a pale blue like the bakery lobby downstairs and the furniture was a light pine colored wood with white accents, giving the place a light airy feeling.

She spotted the kitchen and remembering all of the baker’s comments about her own kitchen let curiosity get the better of her as she walked over to inspect the area.

It was clean, with everything seemingly put away in its proper place, but it was a bit… cramped. The fridge was pushed up against the side of the stove on one side, the only bits of counter space held a block of knives and a couple of cutting boards. The spice rack was hung up by magnets on the side of the fridge, facing the stove.

On the other side was the sink and equal parts, small squares of counter space as the other side.

Jaune glanced at the fridge door, covered in various photos and slips of paper with cute little magnets.

A family photo of Steven and his parents, one of the boy and Celeste at the park it looked like, and another, much older one nestled between a grocery list and some bills.

It looked like it was taken in the woods, around a firepit.

A couple, maybe in their later twenties, with two young girls standing in front of them, both dressed in winter pants and jackets, The smaller girl had a head of thick curly hair and the other had long silver-white hair falling over her shoulders and in front of her cobalt eyes. All four were smiling brightly at the camera.

“Recognize them?” A voice whispered in her ear making her jump, whipping around to find Celeste smiling at her.

“I’m sorry…,” Jaune started, but Celeste just laughed.

“I wouldn’t have let you come in and left you alone if I didn’t expect you to look around, Jaune. It’s fine,” she assured her with an easy smile.

“Your family?” Jaune asked though it wasn’t really a question.

“Mhmm” Was the affirmative. “They didn’t really like taking photos, so there aren’t many.” She looked at the faded photo with its stains and tiny tears on the edges fondly. “It was from one of our camping trips.”

"So I see…"

"Rose is especially excited to start taking Steven. It was one of the few things our parents ever did with us. They worked a lot the rest of the time. Those trips were some of the few times we got to spend with them when they weren’t exhausted from work," she explained.

“I can relate,” Jaune said, still studying the photo but Celeste was now studying her.

“Oh?”

“My father had just started his own practice after I was born, he worked constantly, even on most weekends he had other things he needed to be doing, but some of my fondest memories of him are of the two of us sitting in the living room playing chess all day when I was a kid.” She said this while starring at the photo but it was apparent by the hooded look in her eyes that she was far away.

“Is that a touchy subject for you?” Celeste asked bringing the lawyer back and making her turn to look at the baker.

“What, my father?” she asked looking confused. Celeste nodded.

“You very rarely talk about him…” She had noticed this over the month and a half they had been seeing each other.

“Ah, no. It’s just… I guess that there’s no one to talk about him with is all. My mother has mentioned him maybe all of three times since he died.” She shrugged and Celeste frowned.

“Does…” she paused, unsure how or even if to phrase her question. “Does she not miss him?” she finally said. Jaune blinked, wide-eyed at the question, as though she couldn’t fathom a more ridiculous question.

“I understand why you might think that. I know how my mother seems to come off,” she admitted. “She misses him very much, I imagine talking about him just hurts her. My parents loved each other madly, though I doubt I’ll ever understand it, they were…. very different.” She chuckled. “A lawyer and a cabaret dancer.” She grinned.

“How did they meet?” Celeste looked at the grinning face and couldn’t help but smile herself.

“Ah, from what I’ve always been told, when my mother was about twenty she was doing a show one night and some guy got grabby and yanked her off stage, she landed in the orchestra pit and cracked her head open on some equipment.” She pointed to her own forehead where her mother now had a broad, but faded scar in the center of her forehead, one usually covered with makeup.

Celeste grimaced at that.

“The next thing she knew she was being picked up and carried off by man to the parking lot to go to the hospital, dripping blood all over his car. He stayed with her until someone else came. That was my father.”

“Oh, wow. That certainly would make an impression wouldn't it?"

"Apparently." Jaune crossed her arms. "They were inseparable ever after..." Her thoughts turned to her mother, no doubt asleep at home, alone in that gigantic house. Celeste’s voice drew her attention back to the present.

"So you got your dashing charm from him it seems " She smiled toothily as the blonde flushed and cleared her throat.

“Maybe so…,” she managed to quickly pull herself together and smirk, despite the hint of color still dusting her face.

They were to busy flirting to notice the front door open or the footsteps quickly approaching.

“It’s kind of early in the morning for that isn’t it?”

Both jolted as Rose made herself known, standing at the edge of the kitchen with her arms folded over her chest and giving them both a look.

“I was just getting the last of my things together,” Celeste said, giving her sister an annoyed look that left little to interpretation. The kindergarten teacher didn’t seem affected at all.

“Greg is loading the van downstairs, we’re just waiting for you two.” She hooked a thumb over her shoulder toward the front door.

“We’ll be down in a moment,” the tone of Celeste’s voice left no room for argument.

”Don’t be long.” Were her parting words as she turned and left the apartment as quickly as she had come. Celeste rolled her eyes.

Ever since their brief argument two weeks ago she had been rather touchy whenever the topic of Jaune came up and she understood why, really. As far as Rose was concerned Jaune was a stranger she had never even properly been introduced to that she was spending all her free time with.

She desperately hoped that this trip might help alleviate some of that and if nothing else put Rose at ease when she was with the blonde for any extended periods of time.

Like overnight.

“She doesn’t like me,” Jaune stated plainly.

“It’s not that she doesn’t like you, darling, she just doesn’t know you yet. I’m confident though that by the end of this trip if you’re your usual, charming self, she won’t be near as suspicious of you.” She reached out and took hold of one of Jaune’s hands.

“I know we haven’t been seeing each other very long, but it should be obvious that I care for you very much, Jaune.” She squeezed the blonde’s fingers. “I really need the two of you to get along.”

“I’ll try.” She squeezed back.

“That’s all I ask.” she smiled. “We better get going now.”

Celeste locked the door and the quickly walked downstairs to the front of the shop.

“What is that?” Jaune asked as they stepped out onto the cement outside the shop.

A large, 70’s style van with a space mural painted on the side along with the words ‘Mr. Universe’ in large blocky font sat out front with the headlights on and the back doors open.

A man popped his out from behind the doors and smiled at the two of them before walking over.

“Hey, Celeste, and you must be Jaune.” He held out his hand which Jaune reached out to shake on instinct if nothing else.

“Jaune, this is my sister’s husband, Greg.” Celeste introduced the slightly rotund man with a mullet.

“Nice to meet you,” she offered.

“Ditto, hopefully, we all have a good time this weekend.” He glanced a little nervously at his wife, strapping their young son into his car seat and Jaune realized that this man must be well aware of his wife’s animosity to her, though he seemed far more friendly.

“Let me take your bags.” He reached out and Celeste handed over her, so Jaune gave it to him.

He tossed them in the back and held his arm out to the open doors of the back of the van

“After you, ladies and we can get this show on the road.

“What?”

#bellow diamond #yellow diamond #blue diamond #pink diamond #greg universe #Steven universe #superhero #fic #AU

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tiaragqueen · 5 years

Text

Bun Bun: Chapter 1

Prologue

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[Edited]

“Fate leads the willing and drags along the unwilling.” - Seneca

“Two young women are found dead in an abandoned park last night.”

This wasn’t the kind of thing that you’d like to hear, nor was it the kind of thing you’d like to see in the morning. You wanted something light-hearted to start your day; something that could entertain you. It didn’t matter if it was a baby cartoon, as long as it could make you go to school in high spirits and endure the tedious day ahead of you, you wouldn’t complain much. Heck, it could be a funny cat video for all you cared.

But your roommate, Rosé, was your polar opposite. She liked to stay updated on the current events and insisted to watch the news together. Therefore, the TV was often dominated by her especially in the early morning. She still watched the news during weekends too. You supposed it was a good thing that she wasn’t one of those party-goers who loved going outside and partying until they passed out from over drinking. You didn’t think you could deal with a hangover friend either, so that was a plus.

“They have been horribly mutilated; from hands, legs, and tongues. The police haven’t found the lost appendages yet, and the search parties are still searching for them.”

“Rosé,” you whined from the couch. As someone who didn’t really like horror movies or gory scenes and the like, there was a limit to how much you could bear it. And now, after seeing the paramedics carrying the mutilated bodies on the stretchers, you decided that enough was enough. “Turn it off, would you? Better yet, change the channel or something. I don’t want to see bloody scenes in front of my bread.”

“Oh, be quiet. You’re not even eating bread right now.” The red-haired woman shushed you without looking away from the screen that blared the news anchor’s cold, professional voice. “Don’t you see how important this news is? What if you meet this killer someday and you don’t know that they’re a killer? At least, you’ve got some knowledge beforehand.”

Another thing that you learned from Rosé was that not only she was up-to-date, but also a worrier. This both concerned and amused you at the same time how she could get troubled over an unlikely scenario. In a way, she was like a second mom for you. Perhaps this was the reason why your own mother preferred her more than your other friends.

“That’s ridiculous,” you remarked, dipping the silver spoon into a bowl of milked cereal. You chose to ignore the fact that she called you out on your bullshit, but you liked bread anyway so that wasn’t entirely a lie. “We rarely go out, unlike some people on our campus. The chance of us meeting a killer is like, small. Almost non-existent, I’d say. We’re practically reclusive.”

“But you'd never know, [Name].” Rosé argued, finally sparing a glance towards you after burning her retinas from the proximity. She had this habit of getting close to the TV out of pure concentration even though she didn’t have myopia, to begin with. “A killer never dresses like they’re on a hunt. They always seem like ordinary people; like us. I heard that this killer is skilled in disguise too. Don’t you think it’s scary? They might be someone that we know or study in the same classes as ours.”

“You worry too much, Rosé.” You quickly dismissed her before she could go on a full rant on how ignorant you were to the danger of the outside world.

It wasn’t like you were ignorant, anyway. You've had your fair share of close incidents in the past, but you just chose not to obsess over them as she did. Until now, she often reminded you of your negligence and mistakes that resulted in those incidents, although some of them were outside your control. This usually resulted in short-term arguments that ended with her apologizing; not that you planned on staying mad for too long. The more you mature, the more you grow tired of being angry over trivial things.

However, you hadn’t reached the time where you would actually appreciate her concern.

Rosé huffed, catching on to your attempt to avoid her ‘lecture’. Much to your satisfaction, she made no comment and merely turned her attention back to the TV.

“Both families have reported their lost daughters on Saturday night after they went to a party held in a mutual friend’s house. They told us that the girls haven’t return ever since, and they’ve tried contacting them through phone calls and messages. None were answered.” A middle-aged police officer spoke to the reporter. It was obvious from the dark bags under his eyes and the way he repeatedly blinked to chase away the fatigue, he hadn’t had a proper rest. You knew this was going to be a taxing case and, arguably, something that couldn’t be solved in a short period of time. “It is known that their names are Soo Jinyoung and Myung Eunbi.”

It might be the shock or the familiarity that came from those names when your hand froze mid-air.

“Hey, [Name].” Rosé hesitantly peeked through her shoulder, having known them as well from the small conversation you had a few days ago. She had brought up the topic of jealous people from her class, and you were quick to mention those girls. “Aren't they... the ones who talked about you behind your back?”

Staring off the distance, you didn’t respond to her question right away. But she already knew anyway, even without you answering it. You had voiced out your annoyance in dealing with them more than a few times.

Regardless, you swallowed despite not consuming any food beforehand and nodded. “Yeah, they are.” you murmured before shoving the spoon into your mouth.

You had never really talked to them, except for the occasional small talk to fill the awkward silence, but envious people exist in every corner of life. And you weren’t an exception to that, either. You never paid too much attention to their complaints anyway, although they did bother you sometimes.

They might have faked their kindness to you, but that didn’t mean they deserved such barbarous deaths. It felt almost undeserving, compared to what they had done to you.

But who were you to tell fate what to do?

“There is a word ‘Bun Bun’ engraved on their skins. It is believed to be the initial of the killer.”

You choked on your cereal at the revelation, accidentally spitting the milk out of your mouth. You were glad that Rosé’s attention wasn’t on you at the moment, because she’d surely fuss over it. “Out of any name that exists, they just have to choose Bun Bun.” You snorted laughter, dabbing the milk from your lips with a napkin. “I mean, what kind of a name is that? What a joke.”

“It’s pretty unique, I think.” your roommate remarked, the corner of her lips twitched into an endeared smile. “Nobody chooses a name just because. There must be some sort of background – a reason – as to why they decided that.”

“Oh, please.” You rolled your eyes and proceeded to clean the table with some tissues before she could catch you making a mess. “They might be a troll, for all we know. And stop smiling like that! It’s nothing to be happy about. Seriously, you’re so weird.”

“... Anyway,” Rosé cut you off before you could rant on how creepy her expression was; the same way you’d cut hers a few minutes ago. Such an act of subtle revenge had never felt so bitter like someone interrupting you mid-sentence. “It’s a cute name, in my opinion. Most people usually choose some generic, boring titles like ‘The Bloody Clown’ or something like that. Bun Bun actually reminds me of a bunny.”

“Your face looks like a bunny, you know?”

You didn’t know why that reference baffled you, or why a girlish voice suddenly appeared in your brain, but all you could sense was your slackening movements. Rosé’s voice became white noise as an image of a little girl flashed in your mind. She was beaming, some of her teeth were missing, and yet she managed to look adorable. She wore a maroon dress with little bows adorning the collar and long sleeves, and she seemed to be talking to someone. It was as though you were watching an old, short film and the camera had purposefully overlooked the ‘friend’ in the story. The curiosity gnawed your stomach like a parasite and yet you could do nothing but following their interactions.

“... [Name]? [Name]?” A hand suddenly slammed against the table, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Oi, earth to [Name]!”

You heaved as if you had been awakened from a nightmare and blinked. It was then you noticed Rosé stood in front of you, her slender figure towering over your hunched one. “Huh...?”

“You zoned out.” Despite her serious visage, you were able to detect a hint of concern in her voice. You didn’t blame her, though. You rarely ever ‘daydreamed’ during breakfast, if you could call it that. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, uh, yeah.” You cleared your throat and downed the water in hopes of drenching your parched throat. “Sure, I’m fine.”

Rosé sighed, clearly not amused at your feeble lie. Though, she didn’t bother to investigate any further. She figured you would come clean eventually. “Maybe we should go now. The class will start in thirty minutes anyway.”

After washing the dishes to prevent them from piling up and locking the door, you two headed to the campus that was, thankfully, not too far from your apartment. It had been her idea to rent a room nearby, and while you initially resisted, you thanked her for the short time it took to reach the building. It definitely saved time and money, because that meant you didn’t have to ride a bus or something.

While Rosé was busy playing with her phone, you stood a few meters behind her. The crisp and calm scenery due to the lack of passing vehicles brought you to that ‘flashback’. What happened? Who was that girl? Why did she look so much like you? Or maybe she was you, but you never wore that kind of dress before. It was obvious that that dress was expensive and probably made for a noble or aristocrat, and you were far from those things.

And her voice; it definitely sounded like you too, yet more high-pitched. But that was impossible, right? You didn’t remember ever saying it, nor did you remember ever encountering someone with a face that resembled a bunny’s.

Perhaps, you were beginning to get delusional. You hadn’t had much sleep lately from the many homework and projects, so that could be the reason.

At least that was what you hoped.

“Oof!”

For the second time in a day, you were snapped out of your trance when you heard Rosé bumped against someone. You looked down in a slight daze, seeing your friend already sat on the ground. She was rubbing her bottom, gritting her teeth to endure the sting that shot up from her tailbone. Her phone was still intact, thankfully, though you could see a tiny crack on the screen. You immediately crouched and helped her ease the pain.

“I-I'm sorry!” A somewhat breathy, yet melodious voice squeaked.

You glanced up and winced a little at the sudden sunlight. There was a tall young man, far from lanky, yet his mannerism suggested that he was awkward around girls. His doe eyes darted from Rosé to you, undoubtedly contemplating his choices of either aiding her or stand around. Despite his youthful face, he possessed a body that just screamed ‘muscular man’. You could see his toned chest pressed against the dark blue shirt and his full legs underneath the black jeans. Had he didn’t bump into Rosé earlier, you would’ve thought that he was one of those cocky playboys.

“Oh, it’s okay.” Rosé smiled wearily as you assisted her in getting up. “It was an accident, don’t sweat it.”

Now that you were able to get a closer look on his face, you had to admit that he reminded you of a bunny.

A bunny...

“Is that so? Do you... like bunnies?”

There was a new voice. A soft, boyish voice. One that you could listen for eternity without getting bored, and one that fluttered your chest with its melody. You would’ve stood there, in the middle of a sidewalk, trying to put a face on to the unique tone had Rosé didn’t bring you back to the reality.

“... [Name]? [Name]!”

You took a sharp intake of breath and looked at them wide-eyed. They were staring at you in concern, though the boy’s seemed more intense than hers. It was as if he was trying to gauge your real reason through his heavy gaze alone; not that you knew any. Nevertheless, its intensity creeped you out slightly.

“You were zoning out. Again.” Rosé's statement told you that she was still present and didn’t look the least bit pleased with your constant daydream. You would’ve loved to deny it, but your befuddled state proved otherwise.

“Am I?” you tittered. “Must be my zoning out day today.”

Rosé wasn’t buying it. Then again, when did she ever? She probably knew you better than your own mother. That was the reason why the latter ‘entrusted’ you on to her hands, even though it hadn’t been long since you started to befriend her. Or rather, she befriended you. Socializing wasn’t your strong suit.

“Are you okay?” the boy piped up after staring at you for God knows how long. It was then it occurred to you how you had made a fool out of yourself in front of a stranger.

And a cute one too.

“Bunnies are my favorite animal!”

“Yeah, of course. As fine as I can be.” You ignored another voice that emerged in your mind and gave a thumb up to reassure him, though it did nothing to dispel his worry and suspicion. However, he decided to drop the subject and instead shot Rosé a shy smile.

“Well, I-I should go now. Sorry for bumping to you, Seonbae.” he said so quickly it sounded like a jumble of words. His nerves must have skyrocketed in your presences.

“It’s okay, really. I’m not mad.” Rosé smiled, yet a glimpse of her expression informed that she was just as surprised as you were. How could you not? You’d thought he was around the same age as you, not younger. Appearance could be so deceiving sometimes.

Blood rushed to his pale cheeks as he bowed and rushed as if he was being chased by something. You stared at his retreating back, wondering what had gotten him in such a hurry, before slowly turning to Rosé with a sly smirk.

“Rosé~” you drawled out her name, wiggling your eyebrows playfully.

She glanced at you, wariness and confusion creased the corners of her eyes. “What?”

“It seems that you’ve got yourself some admirer.” you sang, indifferent to the weird looks you’d received from the passers-by.

Whenever you were near your close friends, it was when you started showing your true, weird self without regard to other people’s opinions. It was the greatest feeling in the world; being able to simply be yourself without the fear of being judged.

Rosé sputtered in shock, your cheeky remark clearly caught her off guard. “Wha- of course not! How can you be so quick to jump into conclusions?”

“Well,” you twirled a lock of hair in your finger and blinked coyly. “Have you seen his smile earlier? Or the blush on his cheeks?”

“It might be because he’s shy after crashing on me, not because he has a crush on me. I swear to God, [Name], get your mind out of the gutter!” Rosé huffed and stomped away from you. Away from your absurdity. Though, you didn’t blame her for leaving you.

You stifled laughter as you tried to chase her. “W-wait, Rosé. Don’t go. You know I was just kidding!”

“Oh, shut up! That’s what you always said before you paired me up with my acquaintances.”

“I just want to hone my skill as a matchmaker, Rosé. Come on! Don’t sulk on me, please.” you begged sincerely, in spite of the hilarity in your tone.

“Matchmaker, my foot!” Despite her irritation, Rosé eventually joined your giggle. She could never be truly angry at you, even if she wanted to.

A cold blast of breeze blew past you. You stopped on your tracks and shivered. Had you know that the air would be this chilly, you would surely wear a jacket before leaving the apartment. Hugging your stomach with both hands, you stole a glance over your shoulder.

A silhouette swiftly receded behind the corner.

#yandere bangtan sonyeondan #yandere bts #yandere jungkook #yandere jungkook x reader #yandere jeongguk x reader #yandere jeon jeongguk #yandere jeongguk #yandere kpop #kpop yandere #yandere kpop au #yandere bts au #yandere bbts story #kpop yandere au #bangtannetwork

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bbbarneswrites · 5 years

Text

In which there’s a places-to-go list, sunny springtime walks in the park and analog film shots with Bucky.

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Bucky doesn’t remember New York ever looking this pretty. It’s just the early days of Spring but some of the chic, pricey, high-end streets of Brooklyn are just blooming with various shades of pink and purple, Magnolia trees dotting the sidewalks, bright green bushes decorating make-shift little gardens in front of brownstones and townhouses. After spending years away in Romania and then Wakanda, avoiding his supposed home for years, he almost feels bad for not coming back soon enough.

But then again, when’s a better time to be home than now? A random Saturday morning where you’re off from university, he doesn’t have any missions or training shifts, and it already feels like a perfect day to fulfill a mission. On the bottom of your tote bag slung over Bucky’s mechanical shoulder, there’s a crumpled lilac paper, a list of places-to-go written with a glitter blue gel pen. Park Slope is the first stop. Light breeze getting caught in your hair, his black bomber jacket completely covering the short hem of your sundress because even though the sun lights up the city, it’s through shy, faint beams. Hand in hand with each other, matching steps under your red high-top Converse and his combat boots, a quick stop to a coffee shop with to-go cups and blueberry muffins. The track of time is completely lost in the few blocks of the fancy neighborhood as you entertain yourself with your analog camera. Under colorful flowers and stylish brick buildings, Bucky makes a pretty sweet model for two of your film rolls. There’s some shots with Magnolia trees decorating the background, some in which he forcefully poses for in front of millions worth townhouses like a proper Carrie Bradshaw. There’s an attempt of a selfie here, Bucky’s lips pressed to your cheek under the lenses, and a proper cheesy couple portrait there, your arms around his waist, big smiles as you pose to a fellow tourist who snaps the moment for you. A few hours later and the Grand Army Plaza make it to your view, signaling the end of your first stop. Lunchtime is just around as your stomach growls and you drag Bucky down to a little, almost hidden restaurant that has possibly the best burgers in all of Brooklyn. You might spent some shots of your camera over Bucky stuffing his face with a very generous triple cheeseburger, just so he can get his revenge over your mild incident with a bowl of Nutella ice cream later. Prospect Park is the second stop. Given how much the park has changed since Bucky last visited in the 30s and your unquiet curiosity over supposed secret spots, the visit feels like a treat. There’s no denying that the park is beautiful in springtime and despite its minor flaws, the enjoyment isn't lessened as you wander through the fields of vivid greens, Bucky’s left arm over your shoulder and your head resting on his shoulder, with one more film roll serving artsy shots of all the new discovered places. A quick walk through the park’s zoo gets Bucky recognized by a little girl who is absolutely in love with him, and after a few pictures taken by her mother and puppy loving glances, the carousel is your next destination with teasing, equally loving jabs from you and disgruntled, timid glances from him. Even though Bucky completely refuses to properly enjoy the carousel ride, his heart does skip a few beats as watching you have fun enough for two. Midway through the afternoon and every corner of the park is brimming with all families. Under a fiery tree near the lake, in the most secluded spot between the mass of people, Bucky’s got his head resting on your lap, your back against the tree as you both soak up the lukewarm sunshine. Flesh fingertips waving through his brown, long locks to vibranium fingertips tracing gentle lines all over your legs, just sometimes playing up with the ruffled hem of your dress to earn a startled yelp from your mouth, mischievous plump lips of a super soldier brushing your inner thighs. Though it’s left unspoken, both of you know how much this moment means to your lives.

What it felt like five minutes to both of you, were actual five years for the people who stayed. Bucky has his fair share of bad memories and you have your own fair share of disappointments, but neither of you had to witness the world world turn lifeless in just a matter of seconds and then live through it. What’s really lost to you? Sure, maybe your bachelor’s degree got delayed by five years while Bucky got five years older in Earth’s time. What’s that compared to half a decade of grief and loss? Despite all demons and mishaps, you’re now the lucky ones. Soon enough, with the next spot of your list in mind but under heavy hesitation to abandon the blissful moment, promises are made for a comeback as you leave the park. As the sun starts to weaken, the city falling to its familiar, chilly temperatures, you're cuddled up to Bucky’s side as he tightens his arms around your frame, kisses pressed to your hair until giddy smiles are curling your lips. Brooklyn Public Library is the third stop. Not very far from the park, the walk is quiet and unhurried.

By now, there’s only an hour left before it closes but knowing by heart every hallway of the place, you make it a tactical visit. Bucky trails slowly behind you through the books, smart eyes scanning the many titles until he stops upon the ones that strike his interest, thumbing a few pages to make a final decision. It makes you feel warm and calm, to watch him read through the descriptions, eyebrows furrowed in curiosity rather than worry. Checked under your card for three weeks, you end up getting four books, Bucky ends up getting three books, and in the farthest hallway in the back of the library, he might have pushed you against a shelf with a sudden kiss that makes you giggle against his mouth. A little secret that nobody but your hearts need to know. Bittersweet is the right word to describe the end of your day. Some places are still unchecked on the list but it only takes a knowing look from Bucky to know that you are fulfilling it off together, no matter how many Saturdays it takes. Manhattan is the last stop. Bucky’s apartment is decidedly closer to crash, you’re definitely acquainted to his little brownstone building but it only takes a well placed kiss to his neck, a sweet word and a pleading glance for him to board the Q train to Manhattan with a grinning you by his side. Never mind that you share a pricey apartment near NYU with two more roommates, all you care about is having him in your bed next morning, just so you can enjoy every bit of his presence before another week of busy studies wrecks you. Due the station and current hour, the train is partially crowded with tourists and visitors, people on the way to the city for a night out, a few workaholics here and there. And once backed up near a door, your arms close loosely around Bucky’s waist, pulling him closer until he’s stumbling on his boots and you’re grinning to each other. Halfway through the trip, a street performer comes in with a Kings of Leon song and you playfully mouth along the words, Bucky watching with so much attentiveness that makes your cheeks burn at some point. How funny is to notice that a simple thing such as a train ride can become so intimate.

Your fingertips reaching out to push a strand of hair behind his ear, a tap to his stubbly chin with your index finger. Hands on his lower back, fingertips hanging on his belt loops, fiddling with the button of his henley. Bucky’s lips pressing a kiss to your temple, the toes of his boots bumping with your bright sneakers, a gentle hand to your hips as the door opens behind you.

Arriving in the city under shy moonlight, a short walk gets to your little building.

The apartment is thankfully empty and you promptly read him a note from your roommates with a coy glance, no company at all until Sunday night as they’re out to a short trip upstate with a group of friends.

To take advantage of your momentary privacy, a little make-out might happen in the kitchen counter as you wait for a pizza. And it might happen again on the couch as you catch Bucky up to Ferris Bueller’s Day Off on Netflix. Just maybe on your single bed too, with his broad frame making a cute sight as he barely fits to your mattress.

You’re a good kind of tired when falling asleep in Bucky’s arms a few hours later.

Bucky’s completely at peace when falling asleep with you in his arms.

Lucky ones.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #marvel #mcu #avengers #bucky talk

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lets-watch-mha · 4 years

Text

Episode 3: Roaring Muscles (part 2)

“Of course he said yes, it was his dream his entire life.” Said Kirishima.

“Isn’t that a big responsibility to give someone? Especially a middle schooler...” said Sato.

“Midoriya has always acted as if it was his responsibility to carry the world’s weight on his shoulders and save everyone, it’s no wonder All Might chose him for this mission.” said Todoroki.

“He’s kind of like All Might himself.” said Shoji.

“You know, I don’t think Deku would have ever given up on being a hero. Even without All Might. He would have found a way.” Said Uraraka.

“I think you are right, Uraraka.” agreed Iida.

Scene: Dagoba Municipal Beach Park. Two days later - Early morning.

“Ooh, I was there once!” Ashido exclaimed, “apparently it used to be a dump but then someone cleaned it up.”

All Might sat on a big fridge in his muscle form, hugging his knees. The fridge was tied up with roped that were connected to Midoriya, who groaned as he tried to drag it with all of his power, but with no use.

“Hey, hey, hey! This is such a comfy fridge to sit on!” All Might teased. Midoriya then fell from the ropes and landed on his face.

“Jeez, All Might. Isn’t that a little too much?” asked Hagakure.

“And it doesn’t even look like he had his quirk at this point.” Kaminari addrd.

“If you could move it even a little, it would be a little easier.” All Might tried to give an advice as Midoriya raised his head from the floor, groaning. He turned around to face All Might.

“Well yeah, I mean, you weigh 274 kilograms, right?”

“No, I lost weight, so I'm only 255 kilograms now, in this form.” he replied without a trace of irony, and Midoriya sighed.

“Anyway, why am I dragging trash at the beach park?” the boy asked, looking at the endless piles of trash around them.

All Might laughed. “It's 'cause, you know, you're not a proper vessel.” he took out his phones and took multiple pictures of the sand-covered kid laying on the floor. “ok, that’s just cruel!” Jiro booed.

“Never took All Might to be the mocking type.” said Todoroki.

“What you're saying now is the opposite of what you said before!” Midoriya jumped as he noticed All Might taking pictures of him, and then screamed.

"I'm talking about your body.” All Might clarified, still taking pictures.

Midoriya stopped screaming and looked at All Might, questioning.

“My Quirk, One For All, is the fullest physical ability of many people gathered into one.” The hero explained. “An unprepared body cannot inherit it fully.”

“The limbs will come off and the body will explode.” a picture of Midoriya’s limbs ripping away from his body with the sound effect “KABOOM” appeared in order to emphasize.

"The limbs will what?!” Midoriya shook his head to get rid of the image "Then... I'm picking up trash in order to train my body...?” Midoriya made sure.

“Yes!” All Might confirmed, then added:” But that's not all. After some research on the internet yesterday, I discovered that part of this beach park's coast has been like this for many years.” All Might lightly tapped the fridge, but that had enough power to make a hole in it.

“Yeah... For some reason, because of the currents, objects drift here a lot, and people take advantage of that to hide their illegal dumping... The local residents don't come near here, either.” Midoriya reassured, anywhere he looked, there was just more garbage, you couldn’t see even a bit of sand.

“Heroes these days are all after the showy stuff. Originally, being a hero meant doing volunteer service.” All Might used one hand to press down on the fridge, crushing it casually while explaining: “Even if people called that boring or whatever. You can't waver from those roots. You will restore the horizon for this whole section! That is your first step toward becoming a hero!” the Fridge blew into shards, revealing the view of the beach in the place where it used to be.

“My first step...?” Midoriya echoed, looking around dumbfounded “Clean... this... All of it...?!”

Ashido made a frustrated noise and put her head in her hands:”There’s no way Midoriya cleaned this entire thing!”

Kaminari lied down:”I think if I’ll find ONE more secret about Midoriya my head will explode.”

“Same, bro.” Said Kirishima, ”Even though, this is manly as hell.”

"Young Midoriya, you want to go to U.A right?” All Might asked.

“Yes...” He replied quietly and again louder: “Yes!”

“Because it's where you went! So if I'm going to go... I thought... it would definitely have to be U.A...” Midoriya put his hand on his chest, staring dreamily.

“You’re a go-getter fanboy!“ All Might declared, making Midoriya blush, his shirt was a simple T-Shirt with the words “ALL M” written largely on front.

“But I've told you this before.It's not something you can do without a Quirk. It's sad, but that is what the reality is. And U.A.'s is the hardest hero course to get into. In other words...”

Midoriya finished his sentence: “In the ten months until U.A.'s entrance exam, I have to complete my vessel!”

“He started training only 10 months before the test? man, no wonder he had to do something so big.” said Jiro.

All Might turned to face him again “That's where this comes in!“ he tapped a group of papers he was holding in his hand. “I came up with this "Aim to Pass American Dream Plan"!”

“I am pretty sure none of this is related to America in any way.” said Ojiro.

Sero shrugged: “Every hero has their thing. All Might’s thing is America.”

“It's a training plan to help you finish cleaning up the beach.” The screen showed papers with things such as “meal menu” and “weekend schedule”. “I'll have you follow this in every aspect of your life!” the man declared proudly.

Midoriya flipped through the pages, looking astounded:”Even sleep is included...”

All Might leaned closer to Midoriya and whispered to his ear:” Frankly, this is a super hard schedule. Can you follow it?”

“Of course... “ Midoriya held the papers in his hands like he was holding a treasure map. He grin was a little scary, showing that there was no stopping him now. “I have to work many times harder than anyone else, or else I can't do it!”

All Might nodded approvingly.

upbeat music started playing as the narrator resumed: ‘And so began my ten months of hell.’

“Training montage!” Uraraka gushed.

Midoriya groaned as he tried to pull a far-too-heavy locker cabinet. All Might yelled Orders, now in his skinny form: “Carry that to the park entrance! Put it in the truck!”

‘Depending on size and shape, the muscles I have to use are completely different! I see... This is...!’ Midoriya talked to himself as he run, carrying a tire in one arms. He looked tried and sweaty, but determined. “Run! Run! Ten months will be over before you know it!” All Might goaded. Midoriya fell down again.

“Let’s become athletic!” All Might shouted and Midoriya got up again and continued to run.

“Wow...he was really out of shape back then.” said Sato.

“He indeed changed a lot.” Iida agree.

Scene: "Aldera Junior High"

A teacher read from his notes as Midoriya sat in the class, looking excused. “Let's see... With the appearance of superpowers, the Building Standards Act was revised, and the Minister of Land-”

Midoriya zoned out,’ This is tough... Ten months of this, huh?’

The camera shifted to show a new page in his notebook titled:"Proposed Independent Training Menu"

“And that’s how Midoriya’s addiction to working out has began, such a lovely story.” said Kaminari.

“Midoriya, you can’t keep overworking yourself! You’ll get hurt!” Yaoyorozu scolded.

‘it'll be hard if I don't finish by a week before the exam...’ he started filling the blank page.

‘Which means, there are 294 days left... Taking into consideration a sufficient recovery period if I rest for two days in between, that gives me...’ Midoriya tapped a finger on his mouth as got lost in his thoughts, the background changed as the word ‘mutter’ appeared over and over. ‘..about 5 days of real training even if I'm efficient... I can get in about five hours of training morning and night, so that's 490 hours...’ Midoriya didn’t notice that he was talking out loud, making his classmates look back at him, looking both surprised and amused.

“Oh no, he’s doing that again...” said Mineta.

"Also, that beach cleanup doesn't work out any specific parts of the body, if I don't work out my whole body equally, then there's no way I'll make it. Bodybuilding to create a body able to adapt to any situation... Literally intensive training to become a hero... All Might can't stay and watch me the whole time...’

Even the teacher stopped his lecture and just stared with an open jaw at the boy who was completely in his own world.

‘ All Might can't stay and watch me the whole time... If I don't do as much efficient independent training as I can, there's no way I can catch up the way I am now... Anyway, I'll have to cut-’

The teacher lengthened his arm and hit his head, waking him up from the trance. “Midoriya, hey!” The teacher said.

The green-haired boy gasped and covered his mouth. He looked up to see his classmates and teacher smiling mockingly.

“Did your encounter with the villain make you go crazy?” the teacher teased. The classmates around Midoriya snickered. “it's presumptuous to think of getting into U.A. like that.“ The man rebuked .

“That was just low...” said Jiro.

“It’s shameful of a teacher to bully his own student.” agreed Iida, then earned a few gasped, since he never condemned an authority figure before.

‘Plus, I have to study for the entrance exam.’ Midoriya remembered.

The students were gossiping and chuckling, all but Bakugo who sat there annoyed.

Scene: Dagoba Municipal Beach Park

The upbeat music resumed, as well as the montage. Small moments flashed at the screen:

Midoriya pushing two wheels on top of each other, each as big as he is, All Might gesturing him to hurry up.

Midoriya panting as he run while the sun was setting.

Midoriya showing his mom the new dishes All Might gave him, asking her to make them for dinner.

“That’s Midoriya’s mom? she put on some weig-” Mineta couldn’t finish the sentence because an elbow was pushed to his ribs.

Midoriya eating the food.

“That dish is actually great for gaining muscle mass.” Ojiro noted.

Midoriya staying up late, sitting in front of the computer and writing in his notebook.

“Go to sleep, Deku!” cried Uraraka.

Midoriya pushing a large safe. It’s hard but he’s making progress.

All Might pointing on a paragraph in one of the papers, a serious expression on his face.

Midoriya being almost crushed by large weights, All Might rushing in to help.

Midoriya dripping sweat, doing push-ups.

Midoriya sleeping with his eyes open in class, his hand writing by itself.

Midoriya eating his dish voraciously, then asking for more, his mother blinking in surprise.

Midoriya going for a run during the evening.

Midoriya panting and dripping sweat then puking on the sand. All Might shaking his head and spreading his arms.

Midoriya’s feet dragging into the sand, as he fruitlessly tries to push away a rusting truck in the heavy rain. All Might signing.

“All Might this is a freaking truck.” said Sero.

Midoriya swimming in the sea back and forth, being observed by All Might in a swimming suit in his muscle form. The beach is clean enough at this point so you can see a few girls with hearts in their eyes approaching the hero.

Midoriya lifting weights, Midoriya loading another wreck onto the same truck, that is now clean and working again.

Midoriya writing in class as his other hand squeezes a training device underneath the table.

“That’s what I call ‘plus ultra’! have you ever seen in your life something this manly?” Kirishima beamed.

“Kirishima, that’s called ‘overworking’. It’s not healthy!” Ojiro said.

“He does seem to push himself very hard...” said Iida with concern.

Midoriya being crushed under All Might’s weight as he carries him along the coast.

“I have a feeling that if Recovery Girl had seen it, All Might would be dead right now.” said Kaminari.

“Don’t worry, she doesn’t have do.” Aizawa deadpanned.

The music ended and the screen went black.

first

#my hero academia #episode 3 part 2

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havethetimeofyourstyles · 4 years

Text

Chapter Four. See You Soon

the scene is set in 1956, a young man moved to Hollywood to follow his dreams of becoming an actor. But with little money and a struggle to keep his apartment, he is approached by a man who offers him a job at Sweetland

a/n: when I say I cried while writing this........pls just read it for yourself.....my heart is broken, and be prepared for the angst

SERIES MASTERLIST | JOIN THE TAGLIST chapter word count: 12.8k

warnings: whole lot of angst, whole lot of smut

LETS CHAT ABOUT CN! let me know your thoughts pls!

pls rb to share! <3

It was early Wednesday morning when Harry had gotten a call on his home phone. The loud ringing startled him from his slumber, making him nearly fall out of his bed. But he quickly got up, and padded over to his phone; bare feet hitting the ground.

“ ‘Lo?” His raspy voice was heard on his end as he didn’t even get a chance to clear it.

“Hi, Harry. It’s Shareen,” he heard on the other end, making his eyes widen.

“Hi, Shareen. Can you give me a second please?” Shareen chuckled and said sure as Harry covered the speakerphone before he cleared his throat numerous times and ran a hand through his hair, which he thought was ridiculous seeing as she’s through a telephone and not in front of him. “Uh, h-hello?”

“You okay, Harry?” Shareen asked.

“Yes, I’m doing good. How are you, Shareen?”

“I’m lovely, thank you, dear. I just wanted to call you and let you know…”

Harry was listening to Shareen with wide eyes and excitement. It felt like he was completely dreaming. He had to pinch himself a few times to bring him back from the cloud and back to reality. He really couldn’t believe the news, but he understood every word she said.

“Thank you so much! I’ll see you Friday,” he said excitedly, bidding Shareen a goodbye before hanging up the phone.

Harry took a minute to process the news before he a wide smile was planted on his face as he screamed out a series of ‘yes’, punching his fist up into the air as he got teary eyed; way to early for seven in the morning, but he was wide awake as soon as he heard the news.

After his little celebration of excitement, he picked up his phone again, rotating the dial to the academy’s number. He immediately asked for you to the person, who he assumed was the front desk, on the other end.

You were teaching your seven a.m to twelve p.m class again as you did on Mondays and Wednesdays as you watched your young class stretch their limbs out until Susan from the front desk entered your classroom.

“Hey, you have a call at the front,” she said from the doorway with a smile and tired morning smile.

“Did they say who they were?” You asked her.

“No, but it seemed urgent. I’ll watch the class for you while you take the call?” She suggested, and you nodded your head, giving her a thanks before walking out of your classroom and to the front desk.

There were about two people you thought of when you walked towards the front. Your father was out of the question as he doesn’t call you for anything nor do you pick up any of his calls. There was Chris, but he rarely even called you when you two were together anyways. And lastly, there was Harry.

It’s been two weeks since you saw Harry for the second time, and within those two weeks, you saw him again for four times more.

When you were dropping him off back home, you had given him your home phone, but told him not to call during certain hours when your parents were home, and you had given him the studio’s number as well. He was proper excited as he received your numbers in your handwriting; practically jumping on the balls of his feet by your car as he told you he was going to call you when you got home. And he did. Luckily, no one was home by the time you arrived and you were fortunate enough to have a two hour conversation with Harry as you sat in the bathtub, talking about everything and anything—likes and dislikes, funny childhood stories, and favorite memories.

“When I was about six, my mum took me to the park with my sister. It was something so simple as a picnic, and we would just eat together and she would bring some board games for all of us to play. Then she would push Gemma and I on the swing, and ride the slide all together. That’s probably my favorite memory,” he said with a smile on his face from the other end. A bright smile was brought to your face as you pictured a small Harry having a great time with his family.

“Do you miss home? Holmes Chapel and NewYork?” You suddenly asked, knowing he moved to New York when he was a teenager.

“Yeah, I do—a bit. I mean, my childhood was in England and my family is New York. But my dream is here, in Hollywood. It was a lot to give up, and it was definitely the hardest thing I had to do—to leave them. I miss them a lot…” he trailed off sadly.

You took in everything he said, giving him some time to recuperate from his feelings. It was the first time he had ever shared something as deep as his family, and you appreciated his openness as you thanked him for sharing his story and how he feels.

And he was opening up to you, which you liked, but you would have to do the same too—because you wanted to tell him things as well.

“Can I ask you something?” He said. The water from your bath had already cooled down and it was starting to become cold, but you had stayed a bit longer to just talk to Harry.

“Yeah, anything,” you replied.

“Why do you only do ballet? You mentioned that you’ve only done ballet ever since you were little. You’ve never tried the others?” He asked slowly, and a bit of hesitancy was in his voice, not knowing if it was too personal or crossing the line for questions. “You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to,” he added.

“No, no. It’s okay to ask those things. But it was simply because my parents didn’t allow me—they said the others were too sloppy, so they only put me in ballet,” you sighed sadly over the phone.

“Oh…do you like what you’re doing? Are you happy?” Harry asked, wanting to make sure you were content with life and your job at the moment.

“I mean…yeah. I love dance and teaching and my students, but I just wished I explored more, y’know? It’s good to explore in the dance department, but my parents didn’t understand that. So, they pushed me to do ballet all the way up until college,” you explained.

“What did you study in college?”

You chuckled, more as it came out as a scoff. “I studied dance. I have my Bachelor’s in Fine Arts, and for a short period of time, I was able to take classes for jazz and contemporary, and I absolutely loved it. A year before I graduated, I got the job at the studio where I used to dance when I was younger. I just stumbled in there to say hi to everyone with my friends, and they just so happened to be looking for some new teachers,” you smiled, remembering that day you got offered the job, and you, Frances, and Alice were so excited.

“Do you wish you could be doing something else?” He asked.

“I wanted to be a journalist. Maybe work for the newspaper or in broadcast…I don’t know. That dream is long gone now,” you said softly, telling him your biggest dream. You’ve always had a fascination with writing and reading; it was something you enjoyed. But your parents threw that out the window the second you mentioned it to them. They told you how it’s a lot of work and that you should stick to something you were already good at, hence: ballet.

As you picked up the phone from the front desk, placing it to your ear, you heard movement; footsteps were heard from the other side.

“Hello?” You suddenly said, and fast movements were made on the other line.

“Oh, sweet girl, thank god!”

“Honey, hi,” you said, smiling as you practically heard him smile through the phone from his pet name.

“I have some very exciting news!”

“At seven in the morning? You’re never up this early,” you joked, and you heard him chuckle.

“I know right! But I got a phone call from Shareen—one of the casting directors-”

“Oh my god-”

“They called me back in for another audition! Can you believe that?! I’m going back! But this time, she said I’m doing a screen test, so I’ll be in front of the camera,” he excitedly told you.

“Harry, that’s amazing!” You slightly jumped in joy, truly being so excited for him.

“I know it’s not the official role, but this has to mean something, right? They called me back again,” he said hopefully, wanting some reassurance from specifically you. There was something about talking to you that made him feel safe, and like he wanted to share everything with you. Hence why he called you at the beginning of your class.

“Yes! That is definitely a good sign. You’ll do great, Harry. When and what time is it at?” You reassured him.

“Friday at 8 in the morning. Luckily, I wouldn’t have to call off, so I still have work at 12,” he sighed deeply.

You two hadn’t talked much about Sweetland, only keeping it minimal to ‘how was work?’ Although, he had told you the amount of customers he’s had throughout the month and a little more he’s been there, and it was just under ten—exactly six to which you were surprised because you had thought he had more customers. But he had told you that Daren rarely gave him customers and he had just worked in the back, but he didn’t mind in all honesty because of the simple fact that he wouldn’t nearly be as interested in them as he was in you.

And the only reason Daren did this was because when Harry had told him about his crush on you, he respected that because it may seem weird to pin after someone when they’re sleeping around still.

“Okay, I’ll pick you up at 4?” You asked, hoping you would get to hang out with him again, and you wanted to hear all about his screen test as well.

“Yeah, I’d like that. I’ll see you then.”

There was a bit of a silence that fell through the phone, neither one of you wanted to hang out, but Susan came back to check on you, and that’s when you had to tell him that you had to go.

“I’ll see you Friday, Harry,” you told him.

“See you Friday,” he smiled excitedly.

Before you hung up, you spoke again, “Oh, and goodluck, honey.”

“Thank you, sweet charm,” he said before hanging up.

Sweet charm…that was a new one, you thought. But you loved it either way.

Harry worked anxiously for the next two days, thankfully, he was not given any customers for those two days. He told Daren immediately once he walked into the shop, and he was ecstatic for him.

“Kid, that’s great! How do you feel?” Daren asked, leaning on the counter.

“Good—I think. A little nervous…” Harry chuckled slightly, keeping his nerves intact as he scooped up some gummy bears from the storage bins into the jars.

“That’s understable. But hey, it’ll all be fine. Take that from someone who was in your shoes,” Daren reassured him.

“Really? You wanted to become an actor too?”

“Hell, everyone and their dogs wanted to become a star. I just so happened to not make it very far, but I’m okay with that.”

“Do you mind telling me the story?” Harry asked.

“It’s a short story, but sure. Well, I was born in Hollywood and knew I wanted to become an actor when I was a kid. When I was twenty, I auditioned for some roles, only to be rejected because they said I was too young, but that’s a load of bullshit,” Daren shook his head as if he was remembering those events. “I got some small extra roles, but that was it. About three years later, I auditioned for some movie, and they told me that I didn’t have the face nor the talent. I was completely gutted, so I gave up,” Harry raised his brows.

“You did?”

“Yeah, but only because I knew it wasn’t right for me. But you--you’re amazing at it. You have a second audition for fuck sake! I’m telling you this so you feel less anxious. It’s scary out there, yeah, but you’re gonna do great kid. I can see a potential movie star right in front of me,” Daren said, pointing two L’s with his hands at him, pretending it to be a camera as he smiled at Harry as he placed his cigar in his mouth. Harry chuckled, playfully posing into his ‘camera.’

“Thank you for that. I’ll try not to think about it too much. But whatever happens, happens,” Harry said, somewhat trying to convince himself.

“Exactly. It’s not the end of the world. If you don’t get the role, then you get up and keep auditioning for other roles. Got it?” Harry nodded, feeling appreciative for Daren’s words.

“It’s on Friday morning, so I’ll still be able to work-”

“Ah, kid. Don’t worry about coming to work if you can’t make it. This is a huge step, so if they need you to stay longer, then that’s fine,” Daren gave him a smile. “So, tell me about your girl, yeah? Have the balls to finally ask her out?” Harry chuckled, loving the way ‘your girl’ sounded when he was referring to you.

He hadn’t gotten the chance to tell you how he really feels, but he had a clue that you already knew. There were so many unspoken words between you two that there was also a bit of fear of ruining what you two already have. There were playful glances, innocent touches, and sweet callings of pet names for each other that he didn’t know what your true intentions were when you would do all of the above.

He’d gotten to know you greatly and somewhat deeply; noticing that you always left out the topic of your family when he asked you questions about your life. He obviously didn’t push it as he was okay with waiting for you to open up to him. But there was this feeling in his heart that felt so much for you. He’s only known you for a month and he feels all the crazy feelings with you that he can’t control them anymore because very soon, he’s going to just blurt out and proclaim his feelings towards you. A serious talk with you was in his favor, but he didn’t know when the right time was.

But all he knew was that he wanted you to be his girl, officially.

Friday morning rolled around quickly, and Harry was calm on the outside while on the inside, his brain was scattered with nerves.

He had barely gotten any sleep due to his overthinking of what might happen during the audition, and with the many thoughts making his head hurt, it lulled him to sleep for about two hours until he woke up thirty minutes before his alarm. Instead of driving himself mad, he decided to get up and get ready earlier than he intended. He took a long shower, the water from the showerhead, cooling down his body as he washed his face and brushed his teeth multiple times.

He started to hum as he gathered his belongings; humming all the way to the studio to ease his nerves and keep him sane. It was particularly a beautiful day; the Hollywood morning weather felt nice and cool as the sun started to shine brighter and brighter. And he prayed that the outcome of his audition wouldn’t storm on him on this beautiful and eventful day.

Luckily, making it passed security wasn’t a problem as his name was on the list and if there was a problem, Shareen had told him to ask for her name and they would let him right through. Walking through the studio was different the first time around because he had no idea what he was supposed to do. But the second time walking through the sets and crew felt like he belonged there. He casually walked, humming as he waved at people who passed by as he felt a little more confidence rush through him.

“Harry, I’m so glad you’re here!” Shareen greeted him once she saw him enter through the door. The set was a large area with two cameras on opposite ends, and some props. There were about ten people in the room, setting everything up as they fixed the lighting and adjusted the cameras. Plus, people who worked with wardrobe and makeup as he saw Sky sitting at one of the vanities, getting her makeup done. He was happy to see that Sky got another call as well; and she was wonderful to work with, he thought.

Harry made sure to put on a stylish outfit; nothing too over the top or anything too sloppy. He also wanted to dress accordingly for the role, just in case they don’t tell him to change, so he wore a black and white cardigan with Times Square sketched on the front of it, a white tank under, and some khaki pants. After many outfit changes in the morning, he felt confident enough to wear his outfit, especially for the specific role. Now, if he were auditioning for the main character who’s getting married, that would be a whole other decision that would need at least two weeks to prepare because he has about seven different suits in his closet, not to mention, sparkly and colorful ones.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Thank you for calling me,” he told Shareen, smiling at her softly.

“Of course, dear. I’m glad the others agreed with me to call you to come back because I’m so excited for what you have to show us. But now, I must give you the rundown on what’s to come,” she said, and Harry nodded, listening to her intently. “Basically how this is going to work is you’re going to do the same scene with Sky as you did when you both first auditioned for us, but this time you’re going to be doing it in front of the camera. We’re doing this because it’s very different acting off camera than it is on camera, so we just want to make sure the camera doesn’t take away the substance of your acting. Is that okay?”

“Yes, sounds great,” he said, nodding.

“Perfect. Now, I have to prepare some things, but sit and run over the script again before we get started--should be about five to ten minutes,” she told him before walking away to talk to the other producers.

Harry sat at one of the vanities, picking up the script and putting all of his focus on his lines, jogging his memory from the very first audition. He remembered it, for the most part as he thought about the day he auditioned over and over again, seeing if he could’ve said a line differently. Those were the instances when he would drive himself insane.

After about five minutes, the producers called Harry and Sky to the set. Harry took a deep breath, looked at himself in the mirror to fix his hair, and gave himself a small pep talk before walking over to the set where the producer and Sky were standing.

The producer was a bit older, and he intimidated the fuck out of Harry. He stood there with an annoyed expression, probably wanting the day to be over with when it had just started. The man gave him no smile to either Harry or Sky; just directions on what to do.

The director, who he found out his name was Rob, was sitting in his chair with his elbow on the arm rest, resting his head in his hand. He was a little less intimidating to Harry; he seemed like he just wanted these screen tests to be over with.

Harry had heard there were about three others they called in for a screen test, which racked up Harry’s nerves a bit, but he remembered Daren’s words and thought about you, his sweet charm, to get him through this screen test.

“Okay,” Rob spoke up, “I assumed Shareen already walked you two through what’s going to happen, yes?” Harry and Sky nodded in reply. “Great. So do just that, but we’re going to film it. Easy,” he said, turning towards the cameramen. “Alright, let’s get the cameras rolling.”

Harry and Sky got into character for the second time, taking deep breaths as they maintained their focus onto their characters.

“And...action!”

The two performed as they did in the first audition, but this time, they made sure to intensify their feelings and emotions. They knew they were in front of the camera and were practically competing against other people, so they worked together to make them both look and act well. It was the same script and same lines, but the whole scene was acted as they were cut off the last time by one of the producers. And Harry and Sky prolonged the scenes, giving it a dramatic feel.

Once the scene ended, there were small claps around the set, and Harry was happy that they were able to do that in one take. It didn’t take long either; about fifteen minutes to film the whole scene without any cuts or takes.

And he was damn proud of them.

“Wonderful job, you two. We’ll keep in touch,” Shareen said to the both of them. Harry and Sky beamed as they gathered their belongings and headed out of the studio.

“Think we’re gonna get the roles?” Sky asked once they were outside of the gates.

“Maybe. Who knows. Just have to be hopeful,” Harry replied, looking around for the railway.

“I’m hoping we do--we make a great team,” she complimented them both. Harry agreed, they did make a good pair in front of the camera. And he was lucky that his partner was one of the good ones and not one of the rude ones that would have made him look bad. “Say, do you want to get some breakfast? I know a diner around here” Sky suggested.

It wasn’t like Harry didn’t like her because he did, but not romantically, anyways. But he did notice the certain flirty eyes she sent his way sometimes, so she made it quite obvious that she had some sort of attraction to him. Sky was a pretty woman, don’t get him wrong; black hair, dresses nice, and whatnot. But he’s too nice sometimes that they get the wrong idea, but he’s just too charming for his own good.

“I actually have to get to work,” he said, technically not lying because he did, but it was almost nine a.m, and he didn’t have work until twelve.

“Oh, where do you work at?”

“Uh, the candy shop,” he said, hesitantly. There might be a great chance she stumbles her way there and asks for him, but he couldn’t lie to her. Plus, it was great business for the shop and the other guys might get lucky with her.

“The one on sunset?” She asked, smirking at him; obviously knowing what kind of candy shop that is and what kind of business they do.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” Harry confirmed.

“Hmm. Interesting. Maybe I’d have to pop by sometime,” she flirted, and Harry simply nodded in response.

“Well, I gotta go. It was nice working with you, and goodluck if I don’t see you again,” Harry brought his hand out for her to shake, and she chuckled, shaking his hand.

“I’m sure it’s not the last time I’ll be seeing you, but goodluck,” she said with a smirk before walking away. Harry cleared his throat uncomfortably, not looking forward to Sky coming to the shop, which he’s sure she will be visiting soon.

Instead of pondering over the fact that Sky may be visiting the shop, he decided to just walk over to the railway stop and head on home before he has to leave for work, which is in about three hours. He was proud of his progress and where he’s ended up, even if that means he doesn’t get the role, he was happy he did it with his best effort and made sure to give them his best performance. As he got onto the railway, he thought about how Shareen seemed to take a liking to him, so that had to mean something because if he doesn’t get the role, she could probably help him and recommend him to other people in the industry.

Once he was finally home, he kicked off his shoes, and grabbed a glass of water as he seemed so dehydrated from the heat and from his performance; too overwhelmed that he forgot to grab a water bottle on his way out. He sat on his small sofa for a few minutes, thinking back at how eventful the day has already been and he hasn’t even worked yet or seen you. He debated on calling you, but it was Friday so you weren’t at the studio just yet; probably at home but he didn’t know if anyone was home, so he just decided to wait until you’ll arrive at the shop.

He was very excited to see you later in the day, and he hoped he could ease his way into talking about how he really feels about you. He also feels it’s been a while since he last talked to you on the phone, but come to think of it, the last time was Wednesday. The feeling of missing your voice and face was getting to him and he itched to just call you any time of the day, but he understood that you had your responsibilities. But he also did wonder why he couldn’t call your home phone during certain times; he knew you lived with your family and you live in a wealthy neighborhood, so could you possibly be embarrassed of him?

You’ve made him feel so comfortable in public, but that’s the public where no one knows you, and family is different. They have different sets of values and thoughts that don’t even compare to the general public. And Harry didn’t really make that much; only stocking up some candy and having the occasional sex, which he is never really into. The point is, Harry didn’t want you to be ashamed of him. And although he truly knows that you aren’t, his overthinking mind was thinking for itself, driving him up the wall.

He glanced at the clock and realized an hour went by, meaning he’s been sitting on the couch for an hour as he blanked out, thinking of so many different things that it tired him out, and he was ready for a nap before work. His tired eyes were slowly shutting as the last thought in his mind was you; excited to see you later.

Harry entered work with a big smile. Daren immediately asked him how the screen test went, and Harry gave him every single detail. He also mentioned the fact that Sky tried flirting with him and said she might come into the shop sooner or later.

“And you turned her down? For breakfast?” He asked, a classic cigar in his mouth.

“I mean, yeah. I just wasn’t interested in her,” Harry told Daren honestly, doing his usual work in the shop.

“Man, you must be so whipped for your girl,” Daren teased, smirking at him.

“If you ever meet her, you’ll understand why I am,” Harry chuckled, but remembered you have met Daren briefly before he even met you.

“I had a short conversation with her, and yeah, I understand. It’s the reason why I don’t give you any more customers. I know you really like her--could tell by the way you talk about her,” Daren pointed out, and Harry blushed.

“Thank you, for that, by the way. It feels particularly odd sleeping around while trying to make her mine, y’know?” Harry said, and Daren nodded.

“Yeah, I get it. I was in your shoes too,” he said, and Harry’s not surprised. Daren seemed to have been through a lot throughout his life, and he finds it helpful that Daren tells him these things to somewhat ease his anxiousness. “I gotta go talk to Pete. You okay here?” He asked, and Harry nodded as Daren walked to the other side of the shop and Harry started to wipe down the counters.

Four hours went by a bit slow for Harry's liking. He was mainly in charge of the register and stocking some jars. There were only about three workers, including himself, and it was surprisingly a slow day at the shop, considering it was Friday.

Multiple customers had come in and out; out with his coworkers as Harry chuckled, saluting his friends to have fun. Some customers had said the code to Harry as they were paying for their candy, but Harry kindly told them that he wasn’t doing that particular work at the moment, which he earned a small frown to the customers, and he thought the shop was losing business when he turned them down. But Daren had said it was okay because they get plenty of customers everyday because it’s sex and people are willing to pay for it.

It was 4 p.m exactly and Harry wondered what time you were arriving. You would usually arrive a little before four, but you hadn’t made an appearance, and Harry wondered if you had forgotten that you two were going to hang out. But he chilled out for a bit as he flipped the neon open sign off, indicating Sweetland was closed.

Harry continued to keep himself busy as him and Jack cleaned up the shop a bit for the next morning.

It wasn’t until it striked 4:30 that Harry started to get worried. A bunch of thoughts ran through his head, trying not to think the worst as he swept the floor. You wouldn’t have forgotten about him, right? You were the one who initiated to hang out, so you wouldn’t forget. Unless you were really busy and had forgotten, which he doesn’t blame you because being a teacher is difficult. But he knew he should’ve called you the night prior to confirm your plans so you wouldn’t have forgotten, but-

And as his mind was going into overdrive, the entrance bell rang, revealing you stepping into the shop. You were wearing a white tank with some fitted spandex shorts along with some sneakers as your hair was in a bun. He’s seen you in your work attire or workout clothes a handful of times, but for some reason, this time was different. Harry realized that he loved seeing every version of you, simply because it was you; you made his heart swoon at every given chance, which was all the time.

“Harry…” you said, walking towards the counter where he stood behind it, jaw slightly opened.

“Oh, h-hi,” he said shyly, making you let out a breathy chuckle. After the many times you hung out, he was still somewhat nervous around you, and you knew that he was, but you made sure to warm him up and make him comfortable.

“I’m so sorry I’m late. We got held back in class because the power decided to go out for at least twenty minutes, and we really needed to get the routine down before competition-”

“Hey, it’s fine. I would’ve waited all night,” he said, meaning his words. But that made you feel even more bad.

“I should’ve called--I don’t know why I didn’t think of that earlier,” you slightly frowned, and Harry reached across the counter to hold onto your hands.

“Sweet girl, I mean it when I say it’s fine. I get that you’re busy. You can’t just end class early for me, that’s your career and job,” he reassured you, giving you a small smile. You only nodded, still feeling quite bad you had him wait. “Now, c’mon. I’m ready to get out of here if you are,” he said, putting the dirty rag in the bin in the storage.

“I was actually wondering if I could get some lollies?”

“Yeah, of course. Help yourself. I’m just going to clock out really quick,” he told you, and you walked over to where the candy bags were sitting, grabbing one before walking to the lollipop section.

You helped yourself to seven strawberry lollies, some bubblegum, and some sour candy before walking to the register and tipping the tip jar $5. Harry came out from the back as you were in action of tipping.

“I told you to stop tipping so much, and you know you don’t have to pay for your candy,” he playfully scolded you.

“And if I want to?” You raised your brows, teasing him back. Harry laughed as he shrugged, knowing there was nothing he could do to stop you. But that’s what he also liked about you; you always did as you pleased because you simply wanted to. You had your own way of doing things and you never let anyone walk all over you. He thought it was pretty admirable.

“You’re free to do anything you’d like,” Harry said with a chuckle, looking away to see if the register was locked and didn’t notice you were leaning over the counter. He brought his eyes back to you and gulped as your hands were planted on the counter as you were bending over, looking up at him with your beautiful eyes.

“Anything?” You asked.

“Yeah. Anything--as long as it makes you happy,” he said slowly, curling his lips in his mouth.

“You know what would make me really happy?”

“What’s that?” He asked back, clueless to what you’re about to say.

You sighed deeply, and not one that was out of annoyance but one that was innocent and teasing. “Cloud nine.”

Harry’s eyes widened, surprised you said the phrase that he hadn’t heard in so long. He truly wasn’t expecting you to say that; he was thinking of something along the lines of going to the diner or sitting in your car until the sun goes down, but not the phrase that brought you two together.

“Interesting,” he simply replied back, not knowing what else to reply with since he was so in shock.

“I know you guys already closed and the shop has rules, but do you think you could make an exception? For me?” You innocently batted your eyelashes at him, but he knew they were anything but innocent. Harry’s dick twitched in his pants and he was lucky that he was behind the counter where it was able to cover his growing hard on. Once he regained the courage to say something back, he took a deep breath as he let out a chuckle.

“I’m sure we’ll be able to let it slide for today,” he said, playing along as he smirked. You contained your smile, blushing very hard that it made your cheeks warm; happy he was playing along.

You stood up straight as you said, “Shall we get going?”

“I’m right behind you, sweet girl,” Harry replied. A surge of confidence rushed through him as he followed you out the door, not bothering to lock up as Daren was still in his office, waiting on the other guys.

You two get into your car, starting your car, putting on your sunglasses. Today’s pair were pink and square shaped as the lens was see through, still being able to look at your eyes through the color tinted lens.

Before you put your car into drive, you placed your hand on the space between you two, leaning on it as you leaned forward towards Harry. He leaned in a bit closer, flickering his eyes between your lips and eyes.

“Honey…” you said.

“Yes?”

“Can I kiss you, please?” You asked politely, eyes completely trained onto his pink lips.

“Absolutely.”

And for the first time in almost a month and a half, he finally felt your lips on his again. The feeling he’s been waiting for since the first time you dropped him off back at the shop. The softness of your lips had drawn him in for more as he placed his hand on the side of your head.

The kiss had been something you’ve been longing for. It was a feeling you’ve missed dearly and you wanted so much more. You placed your hand on the side of his neck, holding him lightly as you two kissed in your car that was running; engine loud.

Once you two parted, you placed your forehead on his, hands still set on each other’s face and neck as you two breathed out a laugh, both in disbelief that that finally happened again.

“I’ve missed you,” you said as you pulled your head back to look at him. Harry smiled, showing off his pearly white teeth.

“I’ve missed you too. So much.” You smiled back at him, blushing as you sat back into your seat, driving off.

Harry didn’t know where you were taking him as you two passed the Beverly Hills Hotel. But once you parked into a driveway, he was amazed that you took him to your house. The big house was right in front of him, and although he's seen them in plenty of films and occasionally passes by them, he couldn’t believe you lived here.

It was a fairly large home; walls painted all white with flower beds under the many windows shown on the front of the house with large pillars next to the front porch. The driveway itself was big as there was an entrance and exit gate.

He followed you to the large and tall brown front door as you unlocked it, walking in. Harry walked in slowly, looking up and around as he took in the inside of your house. He didn’t know where to look; the shiny tiles, the massive living area, the long dining table or the massive backyard that was just straight of his vision.

But before he could observe more, you grabbed his hand as you led him up the long staircase and up to your room.

It’s been a while since anyone had been in your room, romantically that is. And you were a bit nervous to have Harry here because you wanted to know what he thought of your room personally. You had noticed how he was looking around your house before you snapped him away and brought him up. But that was only because you somehow wanted to tell him that everything about your house was not you whatsoever. The big house, the decor, the antiques—they weren’t you.

But you were able to decorate your room according to your likings and your interests. It was the complete opposite of what Harry saw downstairs, and he was by far more interested in the walls of your room. There were posters hung up, floral curtains, an entire book shelf, a red dresser with a mirror as all of your fragrances sat on top of the dresser along with some knick knacks—it was very you. And he absolutely adored it. He realized he could sit on your floor, on top of your rug, for hours with you as you tell him your favorite song on each vinyl you own, which he thinks is about thirty.

“Your room is very lovely,” he told you honestly, as he followed you; taking off your shoes as did he.

“Really? You like it?”

“Yeah, it’s very you and I like it very much,” he said, hinting at the double meaning to his words. And you understood what he was trying to say, but you smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck as his goes around your waist,

Your chests were pressed together as you two smiled at each other, and you played with the ends of his curls on his neck.

“Tell me about your screen test today,” you excitedly said.

“Right now?”

“Yes! I want to hear all about it,” you unwrapped your arms and went to go sit on the edge of your bed, eagerly waiting for Harry to tell you his experience.

Harry sat next to you, and started to tell you everything, not leaving out a detail as he did when he told Daren. He even told you about Sky, and he was surprised that he didn’t see a hint of snark on your face when he mentioned that she was planning to visit the shop. But your brows just raised as you let out a ‘hmm..’

“I’m really nervous, but if it happens then great. If not, then I’ll keep trying,” he said.

“Well, I am very proud of you. I’m sure you did absolutely wonderful, and I’m so excited for you!” You beamed causing him to giggle.

“Nothing’s happened yet, but we’re staying hopeful.”

You got off the bed and walked straight to your dresser to sit on top of the wooden furniture.

“You’re amazing, honey. They’d be crazy not to pick you. I know I haven’t seen how you act, but just by how determined you are, I know you’re wonderful,” you said honestly. Harry really appreciated your words; getting up from the bed and walking towards you.

He put his hands on your shoulders, running his hands up and down your arms as he was in between your legs. You gulped in response as you took deep breaths, trying not to get worked up from his touch but it was definitely hard not to.

“Thank you, sweet girl. You have no idea how much your words and you mean to me,” he said, putting his forehead against his before kissing the tip of your nose softly,

“Show me?” You suggested, and he pulled his head back and raised his brows. “Show me how much I mean to you,” you said, words coming out differently than the first time. Harry only nodded as you heard him deeply sigh before connecting his lips with yours.

Your hands raked his clothed back as his hands roamed your sides as you two moaned against each other’s mouths. He pulled back to press multiple kisses to your jaw and neck, lightly sucking on your skin, making you let out a ‘mmm’.

“I wanna taste you,” you said as he was attacking your neck with kisses. He pulled back and looked at, smirking.

“You don’t have to.”

“No, please. I want to—well, only if you want me to,” you said with a chuckle.

“Of course I want you to. But you obviously don’t have to,” he said nervously.

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t want to,” you teased him, and he chuckled with a nod.

You reached for the button of his trousers, quickly taking them off before letting them go as they fell briskly to his ankles. He got out of his legs out of his trousers before you slightly pushed him back to get off of the dresser. You then slowly untied his bow of his blouse before unbuttoning his shirt and taking it off, leaving him in just his briefs.

The sight in front of you was something you could get used to, and this time, you really took your time taking in each of his tattoos and skin as the last time, you didn’t really get to. You reached up to kiss him again, one arm around his neck and the other in between you two as you touched him against his underwear, feeling his very hard dick in your hands. He moaned against your lips, and you pulled back, kissing his collarbone and chest, all the way down to his lower abdomen.

“Can I take this off?” You asked, looking up at him as you were on your knees.

Harry was practically in heaven as he looked down and saw such a beautiful woman in front of him.

“Please,” he said, pleading for the removal of his pants. You slid his pants off down his legs as his hard cock shot straight up to his stomach. Your mouth watered from the sight as you rolled your lips into your mouth before licking them.

But you decided to jerk him off a bit, not for too long because you wanted him in your mouth, but you also wanted to tease him a bit.

From his dick being dry, you licked him from base to tip, coating him in your saliva before hand started off slowly, pumping and twisting your wrist. Harry groaned out, wishing the feeling of your tongue against him lasted longer.

After a few more pumps, Harry said, “Please, sweet girl. Need your mouth.”

You smiled up at him, kissing his thigh before taking in his tip into your mouth, sucking on him lightly. You then started to take more of him, slowly pushing forward as he filled your mouth up.

You started to bob your head, taking him from his tip and only halfway because that’s how far your throat could take him, but your hand pumped whatever you couldn’t fit into your mouth as your left hand fondled with his balls.

“Oh, god. Takin’ me so well,” he groaned out, throwing his head back as the feeling of your mouth on him was pure ecstasy.

You moaned around him; the vibrations of your moans sent straight to his dick, intensifying the feeling. He grabbed the edge of the dresser behind you, keeping himself steady as your mouth and tongue worked wonders on him.

You popped his cock out of your mouth, leaving a kiss to his tip before kissing down to his balls; taking one in and sucking on him before doing the same to the other while your hand stroked him.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ cum,” he groaned, looking down at you as you looked up at him, balls in your mouth.

“Cum for me, yeah? Wanna taste you so bad,” you said as he let out a series of ‘fuck.’

“Mouth is made for me, huh?” He asked, and you nodded innocently, even if your act was anything but innocent. “So close.”

Your mouth went right back to his cock, bobbing your head faster, but not pushing yourself all the way down on him, just sucking on what you could take. Your movements don’t stop nor do you stop to take a break. The slickness of his cock and the fact that Harry was close was enough for you to keep going to get him off.

Harry started whimpering above you as his breathing was staggered while he shot his warm spurts of cum inside of your mouth and ‘sweet girl’ fell out of his mouth. His hips jolted a bit as he was nearing the end of his high as his cock was still in your mouth, taking every drop of what he had to give you.

You pulled away from him, swallowing every bit of his orgasm as you slowly stood up; between Harry and your dresser. He immediately captures your lips, tasting himself on your tongue as he swirls his tongue with yours, holding you close to him.

“You’re fucking amazing,” he whispered against your lips, and you giggled, giving him another kiss.

“Taste so good,” you smirk at him, and your demeanor is what makes him hard again.

“Not as good as you, sweet girl. How do you want me?” Harry asked, knowing you have complete control over him.

You think for a moment, pursing your lips as he watches you, thinking you’re the cutest thing he’s ever seen. You placed your hand on his chest, urging him to step back a little before you turned around, bending over your dresser. The look you’re giving him through the mirror was a seductively and sultry look piercing through him that he thinks the mirror might break from how intense and hot you’re looking at him.

“Like this,” you said, swiftly taking your little shorts off and stepping out of them,

Harry smirked, roaming his hands on your hips. You were wearing some plain beige panties, wanting to be comfortable while you were at work, and he thinks you look absolutely sexy in them—anything you wear is sexy on you, and he loves how you own it.

“What are you waiting for?” You teased, smirking at him. He lets out a breathy chuckle before taking your panties off so you’re bottom half is bare for him.

He bent down, kissing your hips and your ass before moving up and kissing your back while lifting your shirt up. Once he got to your shoulder, he took off your shirt, kissing up your neck as you loved the way his lips felt on your skin.

“Honey…” you slightly whimpered.

“What is it, sweet girl?” His hands squeezed your tits, playing with your nipples before one hand trailed down to your clit causing you to lose your thought and your words.

He started rubbing your button as he kissed and sucked your shoulder, the feeling caused you to let out a whine. He felt the wetness between your legs and you felt the hardness against your back, both feeling so needy for one another.

“Harry, can you please fuck me already?” You said seriously, looking at him through the mirror.

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” he smirked. His hand left your clit before he reached in between you to stroke his cock.

You bent down to open a drawer, pulling out a condom from underneath your clothes, ripping it open and giving it to him. He rolled it on, slipping his tip inside of you as you both let out a groan before he pushed all the way in.

“Oh, fuck. So fucking big,” you let out. It was only the second time Harry has been inside of you, so you were still adjusting to his size, and he gave you a minute before you told him that he could move. He gripped your hips, slowly starting to fuck you.

“You feel so good,” he groaned out. His pace was still slow, but he was amazingly deep.

“Fuck me harder?” You suggested, looking at him. He smirked and nodded, going faster and harder.

“Want me harder?” He said just as his ring hands held onto you was tight, knowing you’d have marks in the morning, but you loved it. Your ass was slapping against his pelvis; the sound made you wetter and more turned on.

“Want it rough,” you said, grimacing at him. And it was like a switch flipped through him, grabbing your hair and twisting it in his hand as he pulled on it, causing your body to lift up so your back was arched against his chest and your head was pulled back to rest on his shoulder. And you’re thankful for all those years of ballet for your flexibility.

“Tell me when to stop and I’ll stop, okay?” He said against your ear as he continued pounding into you.

“Mhm. Don’t stop, daddy. Keep going,” you managed to get out through all the pleasure. Harry’s brows lifted, surprised by the slip up. He looked at you and you didn’t seem to notice, so he lifted his hand to go around your neck, squeezing lightly, which caused you to squeeze around him.

“Fuck, squeezing the fuck out of me, aren’t ya?” He said in your ear, and you nodded the best you could.

“So, so good. Shit.”

The room was fucking filthy; the only sounds that were heard was moans and groans from yours and Harry’s mouth and the fucking you both were doing was only adding to the pleasure.

Harry let go of the hold around your neck and your hair, and you leaned onto the dresser, fully putting your arms on it, holding yourself up.

One minute Harry was fucking the life out of you, trying to bring you to your high, but the next minute he was going slow and steady, prolonging your orgasm.

“Harry…what are you doing? Don’t stop,” you whined out as you were so close to coming. Harry leaned forward, chest completely pressed against your back as he kisses your shoulder.

“Wanna have you watch us,” he said, looking at you through the mirror. “You’ve been watching me fuck you, yeah?” You only nodded, completely captivated by his tone of voice causing you to swivel your hips against his. “Then watch us come, okay? Keep your eyes open for me. M’gonna look at you while you come. You’re close, yeah?” You nodded again, and he smiled before standing up and fucking you again.

And with a few more pounds, you’re coming on his cock, moaning out as your hands roam the dresser, trying to find something to hold onto, and the mirror digging up slightly from your hot breath. Your eyes were trained on Harry as his eyes were on yours through the mirror, watching each other hit your highs.

He collapsed on top of your back, and you brought your hand around to his head, scratching his hair softly as he pressed multiple kisses to your neck and shoulder. After a minute, he lifted his head as you turned your head towards him, and he gave you a big kiss to your lips, slipping his tongue into your mouth.

“You’re so fucking good for me,” he said.

“Me? You’re good to me,” you giggled, completely fucked out.

“So pretty when you cum,” Harry said, smiling as if he’s remembering your face when you do come.

“Please. You’re the pretty one,” you flirt back. He gives you one more kiss and proceeds to get up off your back, already missing his weight on you, and he pulls out of you, noticing how wet your pussy was from your orgasm. And it takes everything in him to not take you again, but he needed a moment.

He used the bathroom in your room, taking off the condom, and washing his hands before walking to find you laying on your bed on top of your comforter, completely naked still. You saw him watch you from the bathroom door and you turned to him, giving him a smile before patting the space on your bed beside you, telling him to lay down next to you.

You two were cuddled up, completely bare against one another as you were the first time, and just enjoying each other’s presence.

“Can I tell you something?” Harry suddenly asked. You lifted your head up and nodded it as your hands roamed against his toned abdomen. You felt goosebumps raise on his skin and you soothed them away. “Okay, so uh, what I’m about to say has nothing to do with what we did and how completely fucked out I am, but don’t get me wrong, I really do enjoy being with you like that, it’s just that…” he rambled on, ending it as he trailed off because of the nerves he felt.

“Honey, take your time, yeah?” You obviously gave him a small smile. He nodded, appreciating how patient you are with him.

“What I’m trying to say is...that I like you. A lot. And I’m not just saying this because we had sex twice, but because I’ve gotten to know who this past month and a half and realized how sweet and kind of a person you are. And all I want to do is spend time with you and call you up every time I hear good and bad news, or something that makes me laugh. I want that with you.”

Your eyes softened, taking in every word Harry said. With every word he said, your eyes glossed from how sweet and adorable he is. But you didn’t realize Harry was done talking when you saw his face softly frown; it was then when you realized that you were so into his confession that you didn’t say a word, just repeating what he said in your head making your heart flutter.

Harry cleared his throat awkwardly, and you lifted his chin up.

“Oh, Harry…”

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. I just needed to get that out because I’ve been wanting to tell you for-”

Harry was interrupted by your lips as you kissed him quiet, hopefully telling him that you definitely felt the same way.

“You’re crazy if you think I didn’t feel the same way,” you said as you pulled away from the kiss.

“Y-You feel the same?” He asked softly.

“Hell yeah I do! Practically since the day I met you. You’re too charming and handsome and sweet,” you reassured him, giving him a peck to his forehead.

“I-I didn’t know that,” he chuckled.

“Yeah. Reason why I kept asking you to hang out—just wanted to be around you too,” you said, laying your head on his hand that was sprawled out onto your pillow.

“Well damn, should’ve told you earlier then!” He joked, and you giggled, happy that you two cleared up your feelings for each other.

“It’s okay, all in good timing, honey,” you smiled at him, running a hand through his luscious locks.

“So…daddy, huh?” He smirked, and you rolled your eyes playfully.

“Better not use that against me. I’m calling you daddy whenever I want to-”

There was a loud bang downstairs that interrupted you, which startled you both as you two sat up slightly.

“Fuck,” you said to yourself, and Harry heard the panic in your voice, meaning that he’s going to panic as well.

“Who’s downstairs?” He asked, following your lead as you started to put on your clothes, so he quickly did the same. “Who’s downstairs, sweet girl?”

“I-I don’t know,” you were telling the truth. You really didn’t know who was downstairs, but you hoped it was your mother.

“Darling!” Someone called from downstairs.

Definitely not your mother.

The opposite that is, because your father was calling you downstairs as you were half naked with Harry upstairs.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you rushed to cover yourself, thinking of how horrible the timing is.

Once you two were both dressed, you quickly strategize a plan on how to sneak Harry out. You figured that you could just go downstairs to greet your father and have Harry stay in your room until Richard locks himself up in his office, and Harry could successfully sneak out. But those plans went out the window as there was a knock on your door along with some words from Richard.

“Darling, I’ve brought some dinner and I have some news. Do you mind coming out here?” He asked through the door. You immediately noticed his mood and how much of a good mood he was in, and you still had no idea how to get Harry out.

Harry was completely lost on what to do. Should he hide? Should he wait? He didn’t know. But you looked at him, smiling guilty.

“Go to the restroom and just wait till he leaves, okay?” You instructed him, and all he did was nod, walking over to the restroom and closer the door.

You took a deep breath and fixed your hair before you opened your door, revealing your father with a smile.

“Hi, dad,” you greeted, covering up the fact that you have someone in your room at the moment.

“Oh, darling, great. I’ve brought some food—come eat with me?” He suggested. Richard had beamed at you; it was a smile that you had loved since you were a little girl when times weren’t so rough and when you didn’t have thick skin. You always went to him when things were tough, and he would shine his smile at you and tell you everything was going to be okay. And you really did believe him.

“Yeah, sure. Let me just go to the restroom and I’ll be down there,” you smiled back at him. Usually you wouldn’t be acting like this towards him, but the fact that he seemed like he was in a good mood and that you had a guest, you didn’t want to seem suspicious.

“Perfect. I’ll get the food ready,” he walked off, and you closed the door, letting out the breath you were holding in. You were walking towards the bathroom door before you heard another knock.

Confusingly, you walked back to your bedroom door, opening it and it was Richard again, but this time he had a scowl on his face.

“Yes?”

“Who’s shoes are those?” He looked down beside your feet, and you followed his vision and saw Harry’s boots right next to your sneakers. “Huh? Who’s shoes are those?”

“I, uh-” you stuttered, but he interrupted you, stepping inside of your room slowly.

“Because they sure aren’t mine nor do I think they’re yours because they’re at least five sizes bigger than yours, so I’m gonna ask again. Who’s. Shoes. Are. Those,” he said slowly and sternly, looking at you angrily.

“Dad…”

“Where is he?” He barged into your room, looking around before heading to the closet, opening it as he was disappointed to find no one hiding in the closet. Your nerves were up to your neck because the only obvious place a person would be hiding is inside of your bathroom, and he was headed there next.

“Is it Chris’? If you say it’s Chris’ I won’t get mad,” he said in a more softer tone. It scared you very much how much Chris has an affect on him, and you absolutely hated it.

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out, which confirmed that it was not in fact Chris’ boots. He stormed to the bathroom door, barging it open, and saw Harry sitting on top of the counter, a worried look on his face.

“What the fuck!” Richard screamed out. You immediately ran towards Harry, putting your body in front of him so Richard doesn’t do anything to hurt him.

“Wait…” Harry said as if he had a realization.

“You!” Richard reaches forward, and despite you being in front of Harry, your father grabbed his shoulders, dragging him outside of the bathroom by his blouse.

“Dad, stop!” You grabbed Richard’s arm, yanking on it for him to let go of Harry. Harry didn’t fight back or anything, and you figured that was because he was your father.

“Do you know who this kid is?!” He said once he let go of Harry and placed yourself between them again.

“Well, obviously!” You said sarcastically, realizing that it was not the time for that kind of tone.

“H-He’s your dad?” Harry asked from behind you.

“Of course I’m her dad, you idiot!” Richard screamed out.

“Don’t call him that,” you said, pointing at him like you’re scolding him.

“Why didn’t you tell him he was your dad?” Harry asked. You turned around to face him, giving him a confusing look.

“Why does that matter if I told you or not?” You asked curiously but confusingly. “Besides, so many people only date me to get to him because he’s a producer. I knew you weren’t like that, but I still didn’t want to find out if you were only after that.”

“No, I wouldn’t only keep seeing you for him. But also he’s one of the producers of the movie I auditioned for. He was there when I did my screen test,” Harry explained, and your mouth slightly dropped.

You hadn’t known what kind of movie Richard was producing because he never talked about it nor had you been home often anymore. But Harry told you the entire storyline including his character and everyone on set. And you’re not blaming anyone in this situation, but if Richard had told you the slightest

bit of information about his work, then you would’ve connected the dots.

A scoff from Richard was heard behind you, and you turned around to find him smiling evilly like he had a plan.

“That’s right. You’re the kid that auditioned that one time some weeks ago. Think you got some real talent, kid?” Richard said, looking Harry dead in the eye. “Well you don’t. The only reason you got another call back was because it was a 4-2 vote. But if I were any of them, you wouldn’t stand a chance to step in another set,” he grimaced, and your expression turned angry, while Harry took in every word your father said, wondering if what he said was true or not.

Richard had really deflated Harry’s self esteem and confidence—he barely had a lot to begin with, but he really thought he did well during those auditions. And he didn’t know if Richard was just trying to get a rise out of him to get Harry to knock his teeth in so he could tell the other studios and agents that he’s violent, or because he caught Harry hiding in his daughter’s restroom, or if he really meant it.

Neither of those options helped him from thinking that he wasn’t a bad actor because Richard was obviously superior in this argument and he had the potential to control Harry’s career.

“It’s a shame though,” he continued. “I know people like you. Think I don’t recognize that fucking shirt? I see you dicks all around the city, thinking people don’t know who you are. Really--such a shame. If you wouldn’t have been sleeping around with my daughter, then the role would be yours.” Yours and Harry’s eyes perked up. “Oh, yeah. We’ve made the decision on casting and Shareen was supposed to call you tomorrow and tell you the role is yours.”

Harry was now conflicted on what to feel. Should he be happy or a bit frustrated from what he said prior? He felt a bit dizzy from thinking too much, and Richard scolding him did not help whatsoever.

“But I don’t think the role is going to be yours. After what I witnessed here, think I’m gonna tell them tomorrow that they’re making a big mistake-”

“You can’t do that!” You yelled. It was completely unfair of Richard to do that because what he saw has nothing to do with Harry’s acting. “They’re practically going to give him the role already! Why would you rip that out of his hands?!” You were on the borderline of crying, feeling so frustrated with your father and ultimately feeling bad for Harry.

“Darling, I’m part of the movie and part of casting. I can do whatever I think is right,” he snickered.

“How could you?! You’re punishing someone who could potentially be a movie star! How could you be so cruel?” Tears had fallen down onto your cheeks as you yelled at Richard. You really didn’t think he would be capable of doing something so vile. You knew he had dreams too when he was younger, and to just rip someone's dream right in front of him made you think that you didn’t know him anymore.

“Now, Harry. I’m gonna give you five seconds to get out of my house and out of my daughter’s life,” he warned, crossing his arms.

“What?! No!” You screamed, immediately turning around to face Harry. He had his head down as he sadly nodded. You were practically sobbing, placing your hands on both sides of his face for him to look at you. ��Honey, please. Don’t go,” you pleaded. If it were any other time you were begging him to stay, he would’ve. But it’s the fact that your father was right behind you, telling you to leave his home that he couldn’t do anything about it.

Richard had Harry’s career in the palm of his hands, ready to crush them once he stepped foot out of his house, and Harry doesn’t know if he could physically take that. It was already hard enough that he had to leave you, but to have his career being ruined only added to the pain.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said softly, walking towards the exit of your bedroom. He entered your room excited and eager for two, and now he’s exiting your room in sadness and hurt because he’s not leaving with a smile on his face because he finally confessed that he liked you, and he couldn’t even jump up and down happily because you told him that you liked him too.

“No, no, no,” you chanted as Harry grabbed his boots, and walked out of your room with you hot on his tail, following him as you were trying to convince him that everything was going to be okay.

Richard was right behind you two, obviously enjoying what he’s seeing, which is absolutely insensitive as his daughter is practically crying out to the boy that she likes while watching him walk away from her.

The three made their way down the stairs, and the large house with high ceilings echoed with your sobs and wails. The sound hurt Harry’s ears, not because he thought it was annoying or loud, but because he’s never seen you cry and he didn’t want the first time to be like this. He’s only ever wanted to see you cry when he’s possibly fucking you so good that you become sensitive, begging him to stop; or when he told you that he likes you, or if he even gets a chance to tell you that you love him. But not like that, and he can’t do anything to comfort you at the moment because Richard was pushing him out of the house as you held onto Harry’s arm, causing you to be pushed out as well.

“Harry, honey, please…” you’ve never begged anyone to stay as you were right now. Not even when you found out Chris was cheating on you, you never begged. This was completely different.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said again. He had his boots in his hands as he didn’t get the chance to even put on his shoes before he was being pushed through the door.

Richard stayed back with an evil smile on his face with no sign of guilt or remorse when he looked at you sobbing your heart out. Harry walked out to the driveway, passing by Rosie as tears well up in his eyes. He heard bare footsteps running towards him, and he turned around causing you to bump into his chest. You wrapped your arms around his waist as he loosely wrapped his arms around your shoulders, both not imagining the night to end like this.

“Sweet girl, look at me,” he said, looking down at you as he placed his hands on the side of your face. Your face was buried in his chest, not wanting to let go of him whatsoever. “C’mon, look at me, yeah?” You eventually looked up, looking into his eyes as tears were filled with it and rolling down his face. It was the first time you both had seen each other cry, and you wanted this pain to end already. “It’s for the best-”

“No! He doesn’t know shit on what’s for the best!” Your hands grabbed his shirt, pulling him closer to you as if he wasn’t close enough already. Harry looked at you sadly, wiping the tears streaming down your face with his thumbs. “It doesn’t have to be over,” you said, hopefully as Harry said nothing. “Right?”

“I don’t know. It’s hard to tell right now, but maybe in the future we’ll be able to be together.”

The thought of nothing being with you right now was what hurt him as he had just confessed his liking towards you just seven minutes ago.

“This is so unfair…” you said, putting your head down.

“I know, it is,” he said, and you suddenly lifted your head up as if you had a realization.

“How about we run away? Together? I want to get out of here anyways, and then we’ll be able to-”

“Hey, sweet girl. Slow down, yeah? What we need to do is figure it out as we go. You need to figure out what’s happening with your father, and I know you haven’t told me much about him, other than the fact that he never lets you do anything, but you need to talk to him. I could tell there’s unspoken words between you that you need to let out because it’s not good keeping them in. And I need to figure out my career. Reckon I won’t have a role by the end of today, so I need to keep auditioning, yeah?” He said ever so wisely. You shyly agreed with him, thinking you were insane for even bringing up the thought of running away when you both had so many problems still. “But listen, when the time is right, we’ll run away together, okay?” That made your smile softly at him.

Despite everything happening with the tears and emotions, he still found a way to put a smile on your face.

“Just stop your crying. Don’t wanna see my sweet girl shed a tear anymore,” he leaned down, placing his forehead against yours as he kissed the tip of your nose. You did the same as well, and pulled back to kiss his forehead. “I’ll see you soon, okay? But I gotta go for now—lay low and shit,” his voice slightly cracked from the pain he was feeling from separating with you.

He pulled back completely, disconnecting your bodies from each other’s hold, but having to do it with a bit of force as you weren’t ready to let go of him.

“No…” you said softly as he was pushing away your hands that were trying to hold him again. “Honey.” Harry bent down to put on his boots, pushing your hands away.

“I’ve gotta go,” he said sadly, giving you one last kiss to your forehead before running off into the street.

You watched him as he did, breaking down in your driveway as you sunk to your knees. The hard and heated ground made your skin ash as you fell to the ground, hurting your knees from the impact, but that didn’t compare to what your heart felt.

Once he wasn’t in your sight as you saw him turn the corner of your street and proceeded to walk, you got up from your vulnerable position and walked over to your front door to see Richard standing there with no emotion on his face.

Marching over and making sure that he sees what pain and anger he’s caused you, his expression has yet to change as he stood there with a knowing look.

“Fuck you,” you spat out as you squeezed your way inside the house and up to your room.

“I’d watch that tone if I were you,” he warned as he closed the door.

“Don’t care,” you yelled back, stomping your way up to your room.

You quickly reached your room, slamming the door loudly and locking it as a way to tell him not to bother you or even try to. You paced your room, frustrated as you pulled onto your hair with deep breaths until you realized that pacing isn’t going to help you, so you decided to take a shower.

The shower was warm, falling onto your skin as you tried to let it soothe you. You stayed still for a while, just letting the water hit you until you realized, again, that you needed to wash and clean yourself as you were racking up the water bill.

Once you did your normal routine, it was six p.m as you were getting into bed. It was quite early for you to already be in bed while on other days, you still have four hours ahead of you for work, so it was a change. But you desperately needed to lay down as your head was fuzzy from all the crying you did as you watched Harry leave as well as in the shower.

You laid on your side, facing the space next to you as you thought: just about 45 minutes ago, you were lying here with Harry as you both told each other that you liked one another as you two giggled and kissed. The thought made tears form into your eyes one again as you cuddled into the pillow Harry was lying on, trying to smell the faint aroma of him, even if he was only lying on it for a short amount of time.

And you stayed that way for four hours, only getting up to put music on your record player and drink water. But you lied there for hours as Ella Fitzgerald was playing in the background, wishing Harry body was replaced by the pillow.

Through the midst of being in sadness and on the edge of falling asleep as tears rolled onto the pillow he once laid on, that was when you realized that you didn’t know when you were going to see Harry again.

sooo...how are we feeling? come into my inbox and i will 100% cry with you!

chapter 5 will be posted on September 11!

taglist babies: @froggystyles @outofsstyles @whoschantel @4592222 @groovybaybee @bfharry @wellbafineline @tfonty @bfilipa52 @afire-hes @thorsangel @brrilliant-harry @apples2019 @bbymichelleee @harrys-cherrry @ggaayyyong @heslilac @hufflepuff-always-and-forever @sozvuchiy @mellamolayla

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sugarcookiesandsins · 5 years

Text

Café Rischioso

Word: 2k+ Dedicated to @taetaesbaebaepsae

Hearts of gold are hard to come by, especially within the anthill that is your university - each person focused on their mission, side-quests be damned. Still, there are those who appreciate deviations from their mundane routine. They relished in the oddest hours of the day, nursing their own thoughts and temptations in the wee hours of the rising sun, when the moon still warred with full force for its rightful territory in the sky. You found one in the man standing opposite the café where you worked.

There he stood, under the golden blaze of the street light, waiting for the last bus; that blessed soul ferrying souls to their final destination whether it be their own bed or the painful solace of someone else's.

On his watch, the number three blinked in the dim light; a timer counting down, but paused as if understanding the infinity that existed in this moment. The world seemed different when he was limited to only the energy left to him. The ghosts of the day left to join their families in desolate graveyards as he continued to stand under the lamplight, waiting with bated breath for a stranger to carry him home. Across the way, his eyes fell on another source of light, this one eliciting much more warmth that his current shelter. It flowed in rivers out of a jazz bar, the familiar melodies providing the soundtrack for his conversation with .... who was it again that he was talking to?

It could have been anyone, but he remembered a voice, throaty and pristine, that he had listened to for hours. Her voice was not beautiful by any standards, but it had character to it. Between muttered profanity and biology, he read wonder and pain, anger and compassion, and all sorts of paradoxes that only existed in the minds of the elderly. Yet here they were, swirling around in dark coffee he had held, both hands, interlocked at the fingers; the only proper way to hold a coffee.

In the beginning, there was a butterfly. And on this chilly morning, where the winter air chipped at upturned collars and muslin scarves, Taehyung found himself leaning over a parking timer staring at it; the poor thing had gotten itself stuck on the cold metal. Thus far, the man’s morning had not been the greatest. He had woken up late, spilled his coffee, let out an undignified yelp, and missed the subway. At this point, he had given up. He was already late, would a few more minutes change much? Besides, he had never seen the park covered with snow like that, sparkling teardrops from Mother Nature accumulating over the trees and water.

With a minute smile on his face at the soon to come festivities, for snow always meant Christmas in his mind, he reached out a hand to the frenzied wings of the creature that flashed alternating colors of muted grey and vibrant orange. As delicately as he could, he allowed a single finger to rest on the ice, hoping his body heat would coax the solid to change. Soon enough the chemical laws of water had allowed the butterfly to be free. As it flew away, the man stared at it longingly, eyes trained on the small insect until it disappeared into the foliage alongside the lake. As most did - he too wished he could fly. Why did man want to fly? It was still a mystery to both the man and to the human species as a whole.

‘Why am I here?’ he asked himself an hour later sitting in his main class. The meaning is buried under the Mount Everest of morals and conflicting theories. Yet, this does not stop individuals from making their own call on the subject. The man does not know yet.

All he does know is that he wants another coffee, so during a break between classes, he dashes to the only café on campus; and a regular hub for those looking for their aesthetic fix for the day. It was late afternoon, and the café was vacant, except for a lone figure occupying an entire table. She was surrounded by an explosion of papers, each one marked with the rainbow as she pored over each one with meticulous detail.

Calloused hands rubbed at downy skin, not doing much to prevent the words from swimming before your eyes. It had been a long two hours of studying for you, but the information had stopped sinking in a long time ago. Feeling like you deserved a break, you tore your eyes away to stare at the menu, deciding that the best reward for a job well done was the overpriced food that this café offered. Standing in front of the only visible barista was a tall figure blocking your perfect view of the glass case of pastries. Scowling at the fact you would actually have to get up, you walked around his form, eyes searching for your personal favorite; coffee cake.

As you ordered, Taehyung chose to secure his favorite spot in back, his drink and food in hand as he searched for his own little haven among the tell-tale wood of the furniture. There was something ancient about the wood, which most likely had only been created a few years ago. Still among the imperfections he found the history of the world. Each impurity had a source and each source was the pure power of raw emotion.

An artist had the job of capturing these moments within their work, but seemed a daunting task for the dark-haired male. How was he supposed to capture something so vast in a single moment; it was evasive at it's core and as ambiguous as the fog that set in during the melancholy breaths of the city. How was he supposed to put these feelings on a piece not even a foot in length and width?

"Just my luck!" Hard eyes quickly glanced in the direction of the guilty party that had stolen the last piece of coffee cake. In your moment of distraction, the prize had slipped out from under your nose. Thus, you settled for second best and made your way back to your mess of a table with your consolation prize. There was something about the atmosphere that made today feel different for him. It could be the empty café.

Most of the time there was a steady stream of customers to provided the soft melody that he worked to editing his latest camera roll, ceaselessly scrolling through the park flowers until he finds the one. His intuition was not to be questioned; when he said that a photo was the one, there was nobody in the world that could convince him otherwise. Many times he had followed his intuition down the most unlikely of routes, only to find the proverbial pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. His most famous photograph was discovered at the end of an alley way, in the explosion of colors on the brick wall. Timeless in that it didn't seem to be dated and with the telltale signs of fatigue in the wrinkles of pain across the vibrant shades of spray paint.

But in the middle of the day, with only the bored worker and the other student, the moment felt serene. A coffee shop could be nice with the background chatter of the patrons that muted itself to a low buzz if you stayed there long enough. On the other hand, it could be silent in everything, allowing the select few who gained access to feel the building breath. The comforting scent of ground bean wrapping around the body with its musky tendrils, lulling you into the safe embrace of sleep.

Perhaps it was fate, or it was the explainable powers of the shop, but you and the man with you let out a loud sigh at the same time. Both of you heard the other, forcing you to lock eyes over the edge of the table and let out a small smile. It was a language all on its own, one created by strangers that bridged the social barrier for just a moment. But then in the next moment, it was always lost.

You feared that like most of the other lingua francas in your life, this one would lose itself as the male was drawn back towards his own world. It was moment of disappointment whenever you fooled yourself into being hopeful that perhaps the conversation would continue past shared looks in the middle of crowed hallways, or in this case an empty coffee shop. Then all feeling faded as they went back to whatever felt more important to them, which from what you've seen could be a wide variety of things.

Turning back your messy biology notes, you tried to lose yourself in the world of protein formation. But before you could study a single world, a shadow fell over your papers. Scowling a little at the interruption, you turned your head only to find yourself staring up at the man who you had locked eyes with before. It was jarring, realizing that maybe he had not forgotten about you after the small connection the both of you shared over a mutual sense of fatigue.

You didn't even know his name, but it was a meeting of kindred souls. You didn't know how you knew, but somewhere in the crevasses of your bones, you felt that he was the type nurse a coffee into the small hours of the morning, or curl up in front of the fireplace with a book. He would accompany you on the times your spontaneity overcame your common sense and forced you into morning convenience store runs, scouring the aisles for ramyeon or sausages; something to keep you satiated as you finished the season of your current Netflix obsession. He was the kind that enjoyed the mere presence of someone, and didn't need anything fancy in terms of dates.

All these thoughts hit you at once, muting you for the mere second it took for him to turn his head and face you; shock and awe evident on his face.

"How?" It was like ice shattered around you, some kind of special effect from a movie. His voice was hot chocolate, dark, rich, warm, and comforting all at once. You were rendered mute for a moment. Perhaps that's why you were unable to form even a full word when you responded.

"Huh?" It was a sound existing somewhere on the edge of shock and awe, unable to fall of the white picket fence in between two neighbors. He didn't seem bothered by your lack of vocal cords. He just continued. That's all he had ever known was to continue, so that's what he did.

When his grandparent died, he continued.

When he became scarred with a leather belt, he continued.

When he was abandoned for a new son, he continued.

It was a dreary life, but it was his life.

"How do you manage to look so tired, yet so alive at the same time?" His voice faded out towards the end as the both of you locked eyes. And suddenly, he wasn't a stranger to you. The lingua franca the both of you had created moments before returned and the both you spoke it with such a ferocity that you nearly started at the experience.

It was the purest of connections between the both of you. No knowledge of the space you inhabited, only the universe that you had created with him. It was colored the warm honey of his eyes and spun to the beat of his breathing, timing itself with each rise and fall of his lungs. Through the far window you felt the rays of the sun on your face and watched how they reflected in his eyes, shifting the shade to more of a warm brandy. It was a bitter and rough taste that lingered on your tongue as you watched him.

His hand itched, fingers aching to press the shutter on his camera and capture the roaring waters in her eyes. The more he looked, the more he willingly drowned. And the more he drowned, the more he felt like he was alive.

"I really hope that what you said was just a really bad attempt at flirting." You let out a slight giggle, leaning away from the mess of notes on the table.

"Nope. That was me trying to ask if I can take your picture." The worst past was how serious he sounded. Taehyung fell in love during an infinite minute. Stretching impossibly long despite it being only a moment in time.

They were all a moment in time, controlling each second that stamped itself in history, whether or not the action or thought was recorded for later generations. The most beautiful idea was a the butterfly effect. Something so small and insignificant could create such a powerful effect on the world. He'd always wanted to find that butterfly for him. That one thing that he could look back on as a series of happenstances, randomized coincidences that brought him to the prime of his life.

He had never seen such expressive eyes in his life. Taehyung, a connoisseur and creator, had never found such inspiration, and he never would again. Among the swirling depths of her eyes, danced a storm; and he was caught in the middle. Between thunder and lighting, he existed for a minute in her eyes. Not just living to continue, but living to live for once. She was the perfect paradox to his life. The perfect person to take everything he knew and spin it on it's head.

He was the perfect logic for her mind to solve. Ingenuity flowed from his skin like a natural pheromone, tainting the air with his ideas.

They were infectious to each other. Yet, they were also each other's cure.

#kim taehyung x reader #kim taehyung x you #bts kim taehyung #bts taehyung x reader #taehyung x reader #bts kim taehyung x you #taehyung x youi #bts x reader #café series #café rishcioso

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sombreboy · 4 years

Text

Mused obsession (5)

Written by @sombreboy as Jungkook & @chimoona as Jimin Banner by @carly-bean-blog

[ masterlist ]

⇢Explicit (18+) ⇢Pairing: Jungkook & Jimin ⇢Genre: yandere, smut, mxm ⇢Word count: 10.7k of literal filth ⇢Ch.warnings: profanity, my peeps there’s 3 smut scenes in this bring some damn tissues, so much sexual tension, Jimin's praise kink skyrockets, masturbation, exhibitionism, voyeurism, dom!jjk, sub!pjm, blowjob with a brief moment of faux sub!jjk, degrading dirty talk, petnames, Jimin is so good at begging I'm in tears while editing this uff, anal (this is fictional they're ok, jimin loves getting his ass stretched pls use lube irl), Jk has a FAT cock, obsessive behavior, lots of cum in Jimin's ass (like, a lot. several times.), some fluff if you wipe the cum away, fingering in the shower (im sweating), more fucking in the shower, even more cum in Jimin's ass istg he's such a cockhungry slut, a smidge of jealous/possessive jk, more fucking sorry not sorry these men are insatiable once they got a taste of each other, cum eating.

Industry famous Jeon Jungkook of GJK photography takes an interest in a model and up-and-coming fashion designer, Park Jimin. After an opportunity to study the man behind his trusty lens, he thinks he may have just found his new muse.

The ride back to Jungkook’s place was pure torture. Jimin struggled to keep his hand off his throbbing length—the image of the metal rod gliding through the photographer’s smooth and blushed cock head, burned to his memory. Every time he closed his eyes it was like the image imprinted itself on the backs of his eyelids. He didn’t acknowledge the other man until they pulled up to the front of the house.

When the younger man leant across his lap to open the door, he was left no choice but to finally look him in the eyes. Jungkook’s childlike innocence was hardened by coal black pupils that devoured Jimin whole. As he’s naturally wanting to do, Jimin shrinks beneath the other’s gaze and tries to assess exactly what he’s in for.

At this point, Jungkook neither cares for or bothers to ask whether Jimin would like to go to his place or go back to his own house. No, Jimin's home didn't exist anymore. He knew the blonde would blindly follow him, completely caught in his web.

''We're home.'' Jungkook's warm breath hits Jimin's ear before he leans back, allowing him to exit the vehicle, following quickly behind. He caught up to open the door with his gaze growing darker the second it closed behind them, the chime of the electronic lock almost too loud in the tense silence. ''Park Jimin,” he says clearly, sounding more like he simply wants to say his name rather than to get his attention. ''Let me see your tattoo once more, I want to give it a proper look.''

“R-right here?” Jimin looks around the foyer and notices, as per usual, the room is vacant aside from the two of them. “Okay,” he meekly replies, unbuttoning his pants and sliding the fabric midway down his leg, exposing the fire-red petals as they bleed into his thigh. He feels the temperature of the room increase despite the thermostat’s untouched dial. Jungkook’s encroaching presence was more than enough to heat every part of his body, especially his bare legs, which were studied intently by the younger. “Let me see yours too,” he challenges, bravely pushing his pants down to the floor and kicking them off his feet.

“Oh, you want to see.” Jungkook smiles coyly as he steps closer to the elder, getting rid of his shirt within those few seconds to carelessly throw it on the floor; the maid would take care of it later. “I bet there's more than just the tattoo that you want to see, hm?” He cooes while one hand finds Jimin's hip, the other smoothing over the lines of the blonde's tattoo. ''You know what I'd absolutely love, butterfly?'' Jungkook continues as he inches his face closer to Jimin—his gentle yet strong gaze fails to hide the excitement of the idea in his mind, “I haven't taken photos of you in such a long time. And right this second, no artificial light can compete with the sun.”

It’s golden hour. Jungkook is ecstatic over the little things. He thought of this moment all day, taking Jimin to his large balcony and taking the perfect photo to add to his growing collection.

“More photos, hm?” Jimin smiles and leans into Jungkook’s touch, granting him full access, wherever he likes. He takes the opportunity to feel the man’s bare chest as it closes over his small frame.

Safely inside Jungkook’s impressive home, Jimin feels he can truly do whatever he wants. He presses his lips to the fresh arm tattoo, feeling the heat of the healing skin pulsate into his plush pout. The faint taste of rust lingers as he pulls back and wets his lips. The earthy flavor of the other man’s raw artwork is intoxicating—more than he likes to admit. It’s tender and receptive. He almost swears he feels him shudder as he pulls back to look him in the eye.

“Anything you want, sir.”

Jimin surely isn't the innocent angel Jungkook had initially thought that he was, and being around the photographer surely doesn't do much but bring him deeper, down into the perfect level of corruption that Jungkook craves.

"Good boy." Jungkook whispers, his voice a bit shakier than he'd admit. Jimin has a hold on him that he can't quite place. He wants the model for himself only, to spoil in every way possible.

"Come with me." His lips curl up in a playful grin as he roughly grabs Jimin by his wrist, pulling him along as he strides towards the balcony. His free hand reaches out for the camera he'd left on the counter along the way. “Ah, look at the sky,” Kook chimes in awe as they step outside, the golden glow of the sunset providing the perfect filter. “So pretty.”

“It is,” Jimin agrees, not even pretending to admire the view. All he wants is to watch dewy droplets of sweat bead on Jungkook as the setting sun hits him directly.

Jimin steps close enough to kiss, stands on his toes and flattens his tongue against the base of Jungkook’s smooth fawned neck. “Mm,” he moans, gently sucking the moisture from his skin, “watching you get that piercing...” he glides his hand down the front of the man’s pants and feels him, already responsive, stiffening quick, “...you were so brave. I couldn’t look away, it was almost too much. I wanted to taste you so bad, Jeon. Right there in the shop, in front of Namjoon. I wouldn’t have given a fuck.”He breathes his hot wanton breath against Jungkook’s jaw, nipping up to his cherry lips and claiming them in an ardent kiss. “And now you’ve brought me to this balcony, to do what, photograph me?” He steps back and peels his shirt over his head, tossing it on a lounge chair. Then his underwear, until he’s fully exposed on the sunlit balcony, letting the evening glow illuminate his silhouette. He strokes his aching cock with a soft hand and let’s Jungkook watch his every move. “Is this what you expected?”

Jungkook takes a mental note of the quick mention of the elder 'Not giving a fuck' in the same sentence as 'In front of Namjoon'. He'd remember that one, without a doubt.

“More than I could ever imagine,” Jungkook's eyes glue to the delicate movements by Jimin's smaller hand. “So fuckin' pretty.”

Jungkook is genuinely in awe, licking his lips at the show he's given as he fumbles with the camera. There's no way he'd let this kind of imagery slip through the cracks.

“Sit on the ledge, keep touching yourself. If you do really well for me..” He peeks at the blonde through the camera lens. “I'll grant you one wish. A reward of your choice,” he jokes, but his tone has a serious undertone.

He would grant Jimin anything he desired, whether it be jewelry, a car, clothes—he could have it all. But something tells Jungkook that there's something else he'd rather have, something that both of them would rather have. Something that no money can give, only Jeon Jungkook himself. The latter knew very well what the blonde would want, and he ached just imagining his pretty tune begging for it, after doing his absolute best to be a good boy.

Jimin is quick to take direction, hazy with lust but still well-trained. However, it doesn’t take an expert to know where this is all leading. ”A reward of your choice”—Jungkook’s promise repeats itself in his mind. While he’s given the option to choose, there’s only one thing he wants out of this, and that’s to finally feel Jeon Jungkook inside him...with that new piercing.

He leans against the ledge, not feeling brave enough to sit on it fully without the fear of plummeting to the ground. He arches his back and tilts his face so the sunlight bathes his upper body in warm light. It’s as easy as breathing, posing for the photographer, knowing exactly what he likes to see. Shot after shot, Jimin adjusts his posture and shows off a different angle, even more seductive than the last. His hand wraps around his hard cock and strokes with purpose, looking directly into the camera lens as he does so.

“Beautiful,” Jungkook murmurs to himself as the flickering sound of the camera goes off—one of his favorite sounds. Surely, there were other sounds that would top it by the end of tonight's session.

Jungkook's prominent erection strains against the caging fabric. He uncomfortably adjusts, growing annoyed and unzipping to let his pants fall to his hips, still hanging on. It’s somewhat of a relief, but not enough. He isn't used to the new addition of jewelry on his cock, pleasantly rubbing against his boxers everytime he moves. Eventually, he deems he’s had enough content, wanting to indulge in reality as it is, and places the camera on the ledge next to Jimin when he steps close. He positions himself between the elder's spread legs, hands settling on his thighs. He feels the heat radiating off the fresh artwork on Jimin's skin and traces the shape with his fingers.

“As always, your performance is nothing but flawless,” Jungkook breathes against Jimin's plush lips. He’s too beautiful, like an actual angel, and Jungkook is the polar opposite. Darkness, the corrupt devil that wants Jimin as his own personal plaything for all of eternity. “You deserve a reward,” Kook's blunt nails scrape against the sensitive, tattooed skin, surely causing it to sting. “What do you desire?”

The pain of Jungkook’s nails digging into Jimin’s tender broken flesh makes the model shudder. The pleasure mixed with the pain is a welcome feeling. He wants more.

“I’ve been a good boy?” Jimin asks in the sweetest airy voice. He looks at the other man with the most wide and innocent eyes he can muster—lips pouting gently as he speaks. “Anything I desire?”

With a nod from the photographer, Jimin reaches up and tangles his hand in Jungkook’s hair, gripping it roughly and tugging his head down to eye-level. “I think it’s time you got on your knees, puppy.” His cock stiffens impossibly hard at the mere thought of the younger man becoming submissive for him, even if for just a brief moment. “Take me in your mouth and I swear I’ll make it worth your while.”

Jungkook bites back a hissed groan at the tug of his dark curls. Jimins sudden switch into dominance catches the younger by surprise. It isn't terrible, but rather exciting.

Cute, Jungkook thinks. As much as he loves to inflict pain, receiving it is a close second. There’s his kink for tattoos, and the spontaneous piercing was more than enough proof for his masochism.

“Ah, fuck...” Kook curses, but his tone is laced with lust. “Puppy?” he huffs with a small smile, eyes staring down at the elders throbbing length. Okay, he'll play along. “Yes..” his tone changes, softening as his gaze shifts to meet Jimin's. His dark, doe eyes suddenly display need, as if he is indeed a puppy that wants to do well. Jungkook is a great actor, but only because part of him truly does enjoy this dynamic.

He swiftly drops to his knees and smoothes his hands down to settle on Jimin's knees. “Want me to be your little puppy?” Kook licks his lips, inching closer to the blondes painfully hard cock, his hot breath coating the velvety skin.

Jimin is already overcome with arousal and the pleasure of both watching Jungkook between his legs and the feeling of breath fanning over his length, teasing him with the sheer proximity of the younger’s open mouth. “Y-yes sir—I-I mean...” he flounders as he tries to adapt to his temporary role, “...puppy.” He grips Jungkook’s hair even tighter and pulls him forward to forcefully graze the younger’s pout along his leaking tip.

He wishes he held a camera to capture this moment from his point of view so he could watch it over and over. The world of fashion would erupt at the leaked footage of golden boy Jeon Jungkook on his knees, but he wants to keep it all for himself. He releases his grip on Jungkook’s hair and grabs the camera from the ledge beside him. He tries his best to turn it on, but suddenly realizes it’s already recording video.

“Dirty puppy,” Jimin scolds lightly, aiming the camera at Jungkook’s blushed face. He isn’t surprised in the slightest, seeing as how infatuated the recluse raven-haired photographer is with capturing him in precarious positions. “Look at me and part those pretty lips.” He holds his throbbing cock in his hand and rubs the tip over the younger’s pout, coating them in his essence. “Taste how ready I am for you.”

Jungkook scrunches his nose in a small, bunny-like smile at Jimin's slip up and the reaction to the camera recording. The blonde never seems to mind his kinks. A small part of Jungkook feels a pinch of hesitation in his body when the camera is suddenly on his face—a very controversial image if it was to ever be released to the public...but, the thrill of it is more arousing than he expects.

“You're so sexy when you tell me what to do.” He coos, mimicking the tone of voice he knows too well from Jimin, familiar with how a sub should sound. Jungkook's eyes sparkle as the rays from the sunset hit his face. He holds intense contact with the lens and presses his flattered tongue on the underside of Jimin's length, slowly dragging his wet muscle upwards, meeting the tip, swirling, collecting precum. A low hum vibrates in his throat—Jimin tastes sweet.

“Fuck—“ Jimin gasps, involuntarily bucking his hips, pushing his shaft shallowly into Jungkook’s mouth. Just locking eyes with the younger man while he tentatively laps is enough to make him shake. It’s unusual handling a camera while feeling the overwhelming heat of Jungkook’s skilled tongue. After a minute, he relaxes and lets the younger take control while he films as best he can.

Jimin thinks this exhilarating feeling must be what Jungkook loves so much when he’s behind the camera. The separation between reality and a curated virtual realm is wholly satisfying to experience. It’s as if the man on the other side isn’t real. He’s too good to be real. Jimin focuses solely on the camera screen and feels blushed each time Jungkook locks eyes with the lens while taking him deeper, teasing him with his innocent gaze while his lips encircle him devilishly.

“Good puppy,” Jimin coos quietly, rocking his hips slowly, begging for more friction.

“Mm?” Jungkook crooks a playful eyebrow at the camera, knowing Jimin's focus was tunnel visioned on him only. His hands mindlessly roams up and down the model’s thighs, using nothing but his mouth to tease the pretty head of Jimin's swollen cock. The photographer is already crumbling, just as easily as when he’s above.

“Ah, hyung…” Kook whines deliberately to test what kind of reaction he'd get, wrapping his plushy lips around the tip to give it a harsh suck.

Jimin curses under his breath and tangles his hand in Jungkook’s messy hair again, pulling him down onto his cock until he gags. The honorific catches him by surprise, not expecting the younger to take on this submissive role with such commitment. It makes Jimin want to push him further, to use him a bit until he snaps.

“F-fuck, Jeon, you’re being such a pretty whore for me.” So pretty. The sun darkens as it dips beneath the horizon and casts pale shadows over his angelic face. “Do you like worshiping my cock?” He gives a few rough thrusts and brushes his tip past Jungkook’s gag reflex until tears prick at the corners of his eyes. “Do you like being treated like this, or would you prefer something we’d both enjoy?”

It’s slowly becoming a bit too much for Jungkook. He is a glutton for pain, but being somebody's whore, or gagging on a cock like some...toy? It’s endurable, and the way Jimin's thighs tremble under his touch tells the younger man that he seems nervous, as he should be. Who wouldn't be cautious while having Jeon Jungkook on his knees?

Screwing his eyes shut while punished by Jimin’s cock, Jungkook forces stray tears to trickle down his cheeks, coughing. It triggers the younger to dig his blunt nails into Jimin's thighs, grazing the latters cock with his teeth as he slowly withdraws his mouth. He keeps the tip between his teeth. It would be so easy to make the model scream, and he would, but not this way.

“Hmm? Something we'd both enjoy?" Jungkook's nails continue to dig, deliberately trying to draw whines from Jimin. “I'm not sure what you mean unless you tell me. I rather enjoy being down here.” He lies with a coy smirk—the doe-eyed gaze now shifts into something more sinister.

Jimin curses again, louder this time and strangled by his throaty moans. Jungkook’s onslaught on his thighs is almost enough pain to distract him from the pressure around his cock. He knew it would be a challenge for the younger man to drop to his knees and submit fully. So, he takes his punishment gladly and begins to shake as he reaches his threshold.

“Shit, Jeon,” he tugs the man’s head off his length with a sharp snap, grazing Jungkook’s teeth along his sensitive tip as it pops out of his mouth. “You know what I want.” He sets the camera aside on the ledge with the wide lens pointing at the two of them. “I-I want you to...” his cheeks flush as his intimidating demeanour fades by the second. He pleads with his dark chestnut eyes, “...fuck me, please.” He glances down at Jungkook’s aching cock and wonders how good it will feel to have that metal barbell brush against his prostate while he gets fucked dumb on the exposed balcony.

Jungkook doesn't hesitate to get back up on his feet in between Jimin's spread legs, hands snaking around the elders waist to pull him closer, pressing their erections together. Never has the younger despised a piece of fabric as much as he did now, tugging them down as he bites back an eager moan at the skin-to-skin sensation.

“I know you've wanted it for a while.” Jungkook's breath comes out in heavy huffs, one hand reaching down to stroke himself and Jimin within the same grasp, cocks rubbing together. “I've wanted to shove my fat cock in you since I laid my eyes on you for the first time.” He groans at the memories, so happy that he's gotten this beautiful angel to be his, under his mercy and control. “Do you trust me?” Jungkook suddenly asks, eyes growing more serious beneath a haze of lust, one hand still stroking them both whilst the other snakes around the blonde's waist to hold him close.

Just as he did the first time, Jimin nods, “I trust you.” He rolls his hips to grind his hard cock against Jungkook’s. This is what he only hoped to have since his first interaction with the man. The way he takes control of every situation, and the way he makes Jimin feel...so special makes him weak in the knees. “I-I want your fat cock inside me...” The mounting pleasure of their leaking cocks sliding against one another is just a tease. Jimin spits into his hand and strokes the younger’s length, preparing him to line up at his entrance. He isn’t above begging. The thought of being stretched and claimed by his partner makes Jimin whimper needy moans, desperate to finally feel their bodies connect. “...Please, I need it...”

'I trust you.', 'Please, I need it.' It’s all Jungkook needs to give in to his desires. A low moan slips through his teeth when Jimin's delicate hand strokes his twitching length. It looks even bigger in the blonde’s small grasp, and it drives the younger mad.

“Feel what you do to me?” Jungkook groans into Jimin's ear as he roughly puts his hands behind the blonde's knees, pushing them up and forcing him to lean backwards on the ledge. His grip is firm though, and it keeps him in place with no risk of actually letting Jimin fall from the wide surface. But the knowledge of possibly being able to—having Jimin's life in his hands… It makes Jungkook's cock throb heavily. “I need it too. Need you.” He kisses Jimin's jawline, trailing down to his neck before sucking on the tender tissue as if it was his own personal canvas, all for him to paint with purple and pink bruises.

Slowly, but eagerly, Jungkook uses one hand to properly press his tip against Jimin's tight hole. “You won't be able to think about anything but my fat cock, will you?” Kook adds as he drives his hips forward, finally sinking into the elders tightness that squeezes around him. “Fuck... So tight.”

The pressure of Jungkook’s girth causes Jimin to involuntarily roll his eyes to the back of his head. He opens Jimin up deliciously, pushing his tender piercing deep into his wanting heat.

“I-I,” Jimin whimpers pathetically in his arms, overcome with pleasure and adrenaline. “Jungkook—fuck...” He peeks over his shoulder and tenses at sight of how high up he really is. It adds to the moment, surrendering his entire being to the photographer and laying his whole life on the line. The sheer height is unnerving yet intoxicating. “Deeper, pleaseee. Your cock stretches me so good—shit.” Jimin grabs Jungkook’s biceps and uses them as leverage to rock the younger man’s studded length as deep as he can bare, shaking from the sensation of the heated metal gliding over every ridge of his sensitive tissue.

Jungkook obliges to his wishes and pushes deeper until the bulbous head of his cock lodges inside Jimin's deepest parts. A throaty moan slips through his lips when Jimin's ass clenches down on his length.

“I've dreamed of this for far too long, shit…” He takes a second to get used to the tight warmth, squeezing the blondes flesh between his fingers, hard, before he finally starts to grind his hips into Jimins. "Oh fuck yeah..." he pulls back to look straight at the smaller male, wanting to memorize every single expression he’s able to draw out of him.

”I’ve dreamed of this for so long...” —Jungkook’s words replay in Jimin’s mind while his thighs slap against bare skin, groaning with a new pulse of pleasure. His ring of nerves contracts as he wonders just how long the younger has dreamt of this moment. Weeks? Months? ...years? Jimin cranes his neck to taste Jungkook’s blush-bitten lips, nesting them between his in a feverish and parted exchange, laving his tongue over each other’s.

Is this what he wanted all along? ...Was it everything he hoped for? It certainly is for Jimin. His own cock aches for relief, so incredibly hard and leaking precum.

“Me too,” Jimin confesses through heavy breaths. “Dreamt of you burying this thick cock inside me...christ. I could barely focus at the studio. The tension...mmf...” He chokes back a gasp as the studded mushroom tip sinks deeper. He wets his full lips and holds tight to the taller man, letting him cradle his weight in his arms and move him any way he pleases. He focuses on the erotic stretch of his soft velvety walls as he accommodates the younger’s girth—he’s much bigger than he expected, filling him up completely with barely any room left to maneuver.

“Yeah, that damned studio. I wish I could've had you sooner,” Jungkook confesses mindlessly. His judgement clouds with a haze of lust taking over him. He continuously grinds his hips deeper, stretching out the elders' smooth walls until the glide feels less suffocating. Then he begins to pull out until only the tip is buried inside. “You're mine, Jimin.” Kook possessively nips back at his plush lower lip in between kisses, hands moving from his thick hips to his waist. "My gorgeous little butterfly, I want to be the only one taking your photos...touching you, fucking you.”

“I-I want it...” Jimin’s mind blanks as a wave of euphoric pleasure tears within him. His head rolls to the side and he tries to focus on the moment—on Jungkook. His attention is pulled by the red blink of the recording camera just off to the side. Was the photographer putting on a show, or were his words genuine? He wants to be the only one to fuck him, and...to photograph him? He’s not sure how well his manager would take the news, but the offer is incredibly tempting. Belonging to him, entirely? Putting aside the materialistic items and the glitz and the glam of a public relationship, Jimin feels blazing hot over the idea of being the one object of the man’s desire.

Jimin can’t take it anymore—he reaches down and begins to stroke himself to match the rhythm of Jungkook fucking him deep. “I need you. ...I want you to fill me with your cum.” The pace of his hand on his cock increases as he adoringly looks up and watches sweat glisten on Jungkook’s neck—fluffy black hair dampening and tacking to his forehead.

''It's all yours, Jimin, all yours. Anything you want,'' Jungkook's low words pause as he grunts, his hips maintaining a rougher yet slow pace. ''Everything I can give you, everything I have, it's nothing—it's yours. All I need is for you to be mine.'' He continues, his words barely audible in between his heavy breaths. He means it, he already has it all-- but it’s dull, boring, worthless. All he’s grateful for is that his status brought Jimin to him so easily, the one thing—person that he desired. There isn't a single object Jungkook has ever photographed that was more valuable to him than Park Jimin.

''You need me.'' Jungkook smiles at the elders' whiny words, noting how Jimin's eyes shift to the camera for a short second, licking his lips the moment the attention is back on him. ''You'll always need me, won't you? Tell me.'' It was neither a plea nor a command, but a necessity. With one hand still keeping a hard grip on Jimin's waist, the other reaches down to squeeze Jimin’s hand tight, preventing him from stroking himself. The grasp tightens further, squeezing Jimin's length inbetween their hands—a form of control in the youngers mind, still fucking deep into him. ''Swear it, and I will fuck you full of my cum.''

“Mmf—“ Jimin stifles his groan into Jungkook’s arm as his strong hand holds him tight at the hip. The pressure of the grip makes him tense and release sporadically, causing him to inch his hips forward to try and regain friction. He needs a little more to reach his high, but the feeling of Jungkook’s fat jeweled cock head is dragging against his prostate deliciously, he could probably cum just from the mere thought of it inside him.

“I do, I do, I need you,” Jimin whimpers pathetically. He wants to cum badly but the desire to surrender himself to the photographer supersedes any other. Whether it be for show, impulse or raw passion, Jimin swears with staggered gasps, “I’m all yours, Jungkook. Every bit of me...belongs to you.”

Jungkook glances over at his camera for a split second, his small smirk growing at the blinking red light that greets him. Perfect, he thinks. Now he has everything.

“Perfect,” Jungkook voices out his thoughts in a rumbling groan, removing Jimin's grip to wrap his own tattooed fingers around the latter’s pretty dick, jerking him off without mercy. He pounds harder, faster, deeper into him. “The most gorgeous,” he moans again as frenzied thrusts lose their rhythm. He keeps going, feeling the heat pool in his lower abdomen. “And all mine, gonna fuck you so full of my cum, your body only needs me, shit...!” He throws his head back, lips parting as heavy huffs slip through. Sweat drips down his skin and muscles flex as they're put to hard work. “Gonna cum, f-fuck—say it again Jimin, you’ll see no one else, just me. Say my name.”

Jimin feels small and fragile, precariously balanced on the balcony ledge as Jungkook’s thrusts become sporadic. One false move and he could easily plummet to his death, but he needs to trust. He wants to trust. He’s spent far too long pushing others away to progress his career. It’s tiring. A life without someone has been exhausting, and he’s never felt anything like this before.

He locks in on the younger man’s predatory gaze and gets lost in the intensity of the moment. His heart thumps in his chest faster than the rapid rate in which Jungkook fucks into his sensitive heat. There’s a fire in his feral eyes that makes Jimin think, for just a moment, that perhaps this is moving too fast. But his body is light in Jungkook’s hold, and despite the dangerous circumstance, he feels the safest he’s ever been.

How is that possible?

In a matter of days he’s irrevocably fallen for a stranger—allowed himself to become marked permanently and even begged for more. He doesn’t recognize himself when he looks in the mirror, and if he’s completely honest, he likes it.

“Jungkook, Jungkook,” Jimin pants in a whiney voice, ragged and raw. “I only want you...I want you to own me...ruin me if you want, just—“ He wrenches his eyes shut as his high creeps up and tries to get the words out before Jungkook’s slender hand works him to finish. “Fuck your cum in me, please. I’ve been so good...I need it so bad. Only want to be filled by you.”

Jimin is so good, it has Jungkook foaming at the mouth. There are no other words he could ever imagine wanting to hear more. Actually, that’s a lie...but he'd get there. Jungkook can't handle the way Jimin squeezes around him with such force. It’s as if the blonde's fleshy walls are pleading to be filled with cum, just as much as the man himself wants it. He’s so close, so close...

''Fuck, yes.. You're mine, mine mine!'' Jungkook growls lowly, eyes blown wide with his admiration, his obsession for Jimin. He sloppily snaps his hips into the model’s abused ass, gradually losing the drive he once had. Jungkook feels himself slowly crumble down as he digs deeper into Jimin's clenched insides, desperate to fill him up, desperate to get him to cum too. He keeps a firm grip around Jimin's slick cock, adamant to hurl them both over the edge.

“Cumming,” Is all he manages to cry out—a drawn out, low moan replacing his ability to speak as spurts of white gush into Jimin. “Oh fuck, yeah..” Jungkook keeps his head thrown back as the muscles in his throat strain, adam's apple bobbing heavily in unison with the way his body tenses while disposing of his warm cum into his Jimin. “So good, so fucking good…” He murmurs, eyes closed in bliss. It’s as if he’s in a different world. The darkness gives him the ability to focus solemnly on feeling Jimin's tight ass milk him completely.

Jimin’s aching cock twitches in Jungkook’s grasp as he strokes him rapidly with his own release. Even with eyes closed in blinding pleasure, he can still feel every bulging muscle and pulsing vein in the younger’s arms as his nails dig into them.

“J-Jungkook—cumming for you...” His sweat-slicked abdomen tenses as his orgasm takes hold, causing him to clench sporadically around Jungkook’s spent length, still nested deep within him. “Don’t pull out, don’t—f-uck.” He claws his nails deeper until he feels the skin break beneath them. “Stay inside me, it feels too good...don’t leave yet.” It’s a swirling mixture of gripping bliss and codependence that causes Jimin to nearly sob his needy begs into the younger’s chest.

Jungkook’s fresh piercing drags deliciously against the model’s abused prostate as his high wears thin and his body begins to relax.

“Don’t leave me,” Jimin pleas, pressing his plush lips blindly against any bit of the man’s exposed skin, tasting the salt of his sweat and exertion. “...not yet.”

Jungkook pulls Jimin closer, the clammy skin of their bodies pressing together as he wraps his strong arms around him—pulsating cock still lodged deep inside.

“I'll never leave you,” Jungkook promises, pressing his nose into the damp blonde curls on the crown of Jimin's head. Being connected with his butterfly like this is all he ever wanted. "I'll give you me every day. My cum...my love,” he murmurs, pulling back a bit to grasp Jimin's jaw, guiding him to meet his eyes. “You're mine forever. Okay?” Kook smiles, his toothy grin a contrast of childish joy compared to the fire swirling in his gaze.

Jimin is all his, in every way. Jungkook draws in the blonde by the jaw, kissing his swollen lips softly. A low hum vibrates in the younger's throat, content with the moment. Jimin melts into the kiss, feeling warm and wholly satisfied as Jungkook’s embrace protects him from the night air that slowly wraps around their naked bodies.

“Okay,” Jimin nods with lips still connected. “And you’re mine, Puppy.” He smiles against Jungkook’s lips with a light blush. It’s a bit odd to use the pet name as a genuine term of endearment, but he likes it a lot. It suits the man perfectly—with his sharp bite, innocent gaze and shaggy soft hair.

The sun set. They’re left in the blackness of night with just the thin veil of the moon and twinkling property lights to guide them. He loosens his grip around Jungkook’s arms and lets him slowly withdraw, wincing as the pierced head slides past his ring of nerves. He tenses to keep in the younger’s tacky cum, enjoying the warmth of it inside him. He looks towards the balcony door and back at Jungkook sheepishly. He’s sleepy after the long day, but not ready to crash yet. There’s comfort in this newfound domesticity and he even begins to feel like he’s found a second home. After such an intense scene on the balcony, he can’t resist the desire to remain close and enjoy the evening together.

“Before bed...could you...” His eyes gleam with childish excitement, “Could you teach me how to play Overwatch?” He hates his pathetic defeat in the last round, and while it led to a very eventful night, he needs to prove he can make a comeback.

Jungkook tilts his head to the side like a confused puppy. ''You want to play Overwatch?'' He asks, even if he clearly heard the question. His smile grows wide, then nods quickly, supporting Jimin by the waist to help him come down from the ledge and on his feet. He thought to carry the model, but is too tired to do so. ''Let's play, but first I think we should take a ahower.''

Jungkook grabs Jimin with one hand, and the camera with the other. Completely unbothered with the scattered clothing and their nudity, he guides Jimin to the bathroom with him and mindlessly stops his recording to begin skimming through it. Perfect, Jungkook thinks, placing the camera on the large sink before turning on the hot shower. He steps inside with Jimin quickly following behind. He sighs in content when the water streams down over their bodies, sweat and other bodily fluids quickly washing down the drain.

“You still got my cum in you?” He asks. With his attention to detail, he realizes he never saw a trace of his spilled cum on the balcony. He steps closer, pressing chests pressing, and snakes his hands around to spread Jimin's cheeks. “Need me to clean it out for you?”

The sudden grasp of Jungkook’s hands on Jimin’s ass makes him jump a little. All that work and the man wants more. It doesn’t seem he could ever get enough.

“Yes,” Jimin replies, barely above a whisper.

The one thing better than feeling Jungkook’s slick cum inside him could be the feeling of It getting fingered out. He has yet to experience the handiwork of the man’s long tattooed fingers. He knows it’ll feel different from his thick cock; slender, yet deft and agile. His pretty length stiffens. His abused prostate aches but the rest of his body is blazing hot and receptive once again. Even after getting fucked hard and ruthlessly, the model is eager to have his tight hole stretched even further. The hot water cascades down his small frame and loosens his muscles to relax for the other man. He inches his ass closer to Jungkook’s ministrations, giving the younger an extra push to do with him as he pleases.

Jungkook hums in approval with the way Jimin hands himself over thoughtlessly. With need, greed, and trust—all at once, giving the younger complete power of his little butterfly.

“Can't have your pretty little ass dripping with my cum all night, can we…” He muses out loud with strong hands twirling Jimin around, firmly pressing him against the tile wall with a flat palm between his shoulder blades. He presses hard, leaving enough room for the model to move his chest away from the cold surface, but tight enough that he’d have trouble breathing. “Or maybe we could…” Jungkook continues, not really expecting any sort of response as his free hand tugs at Jimin's hip, forcing him to arch his back. “Maybe I'll just clean you just to fill you up again.”

Jungkook exhales a shaky breath and sinks his middle finger inside of Jimin, feeling the warmth of his sticky release swirling inside. He presses deeper, forcing the cum to dribble down his hand as the digit takes up all the space.

Jimin’s eyes flutter shut. His tight little ring is sore, but the sting of the stretch feels so good he’s glad the younger is holding him stable against the wall, otherwise he might sink to his knees. The width of Jungkook’s finger fills him deliciously—it’s easy for him to relax further as the digit sinks in deep, forcing the warm cum to slide out and down his thigh.

“J-Jeonnn,” he whines aloud. His needy voice echos off the cold hard tile. He’s not exactly sure what he’s whining for—perhaps something to bite onto. Everything feels too good, all at once—the warmth of the water, the tight press of their bodies, juxtaposed by the chill of the wall. “Your fingers...fuck, Jungkook...” Even still, while he only has one finger inside him, he can’t string together a single coherent thought.

“You like this?” Jungkook's lips curl up into a smile, knowing the answer by the way Jimin shudders and whines under his touch. He shoves his finger in deeper, past the knuckle to slowly massage the elder’s sensitive prostate, forcing more of his cum to dribble out and wash down the drain. “You'll take another, won't you?” He coos, pressing his chest against Jimin's flushed back, teasing soft lips against the blonde's ear. “Want your little hole to always be ready for me.” Jungkook adds a second finger, then a third with some ease from the slick cum coating his digits, pumping them mercilessly into his ass. The wet sounds ricochet off the tiled room. Jungkook presses his body further against Jimin's—the hand that once pushed on the elders back now wraps around his own cock to stroke himself in tandem to the pace of which he fucked his fingers into Jimin. “Fuck, I can't get enough of you.”

The heat of Jungkook’s breath and the tight press of his chest makes Jimin’s body tense with arousal. He can hear the slick sounds of the younger man pleasuring himself as he fucks his long fingers in and out torturously.

“A-are you going to—“ he cuts himself off, realising just how pathetic he would sound, begging for cock once again. But he can feel the brush of Jungkook’s hard length against his ass as he works it steadily with his other hand. It’s too distracting not to think about. “A-are you going to fuck me with your big cock?” He’s never been so needy for anyone, always taking care of himself when the mood strikes. However, he can’t picture a world where he’s alone forever after experiencing the way Jungkook possesses every dip and curve of his body.

Jungkook's lower lip becomes swollen from biting on it so much, eyes widen at Jimin's needy state. The elder seems completely consumed by every touch, and it makes him feel so powerful. Jeon Jungkook knew power. He had it all. But none of it compared to this. Having power of another human being on such a deep level. Jimin needs him, and him only. And right now, all the blonde needs is his cock.

"Yeah." Jungkook simply states. "Gonna fuck you again, and again and again until your insides are shaped for my cock only.” Jungkook withdraws his fingers from Jimin's hole, quickly replacing it with his cock by driving his hips forward, filling up the blonde with one swift motion. A low moan slips past his lips, with one palm flat on the wet tile next to Jimin's head, seeking leverage while the other hand firmly grips his hip.

Jimin’s small hole is gaped and hungry for Jungkook to drive in deep. It’s all he can think about until he’d had it; then, it’s pure gut-wrenching pleasure.

“Fuck me hard, please, pleeease,” the blonde begs in pitchy moans, voice quavering each time Jungkook’s hips slap against his pert ass. He winces as the pace increases without warning. It’s a pleasure in every sense of the word to be used by the photographer like this. He can feel the sting of his fresh tattoo as the hot water hits it between light rubs into the chilled wall. Each time it’s grazed by hot and cold, Jimin is reminded of the permanent claim the younger has on his body, and the matching claim he has over his.

Jimin rolls his hips back onto Jungkook’s cock and shudders as his walls contract around the hot prodding barbell. “Wanna cum just from your cock. Gah—” He rolls his hips faster, rushing to reach his high at an impatient speed. “Use me,” he pants, barely above a whisper as he begins to lose control of his hoarse voice.

"Shit...you're such a slut." Jungkook growls out as his overgrown fringe hangs over his eyes and looks down at the way his cock disappears into Jimin's ass. “Your hole is so greedy—fuck, squeezing and sucking me in like it never wants me to leave." He’s just as greedy, wet skin smacking against Jimin’s, echoing loudly in the room.

Needy for more momentum, the younger takes a step back, pulling Jimin's ass with him in one hand and pushing his back down into a stable position. “Arch your back for me baby."

Jimin does as he’s told without question, just the way his partner likes it. Jungkook places both of his strong hands on Jimins ass cheeks and spreads them to properly see his cock drill in and out. His clawing grasp taints Jimins skin red, fucking into his abused hole with more strength, tugging the boy’s hips back to meet his powerful thrusts.

“A cockslut. Jeon Jungkooks personal little cumdump. That's what you want to be, isn't it? Haa.." Kooks muscles tense up, feeling the heat of his orgasm pool in his lower abdomen. He desperately chases the feeling, paying no mind to Jimin’s aching cock. He'd cum anyway, especially with the way the younger's thick, pierced tip repeatedly jams against his prostate.

Jimin swears his knees could buckle with each new punishing thrust of the younger’s heavy cock. He can already feel his orgasm building as his smaller frame is bent and contorted to be used, walls pulsing around the swollen shaft.

“Yes! Y-yes!” Jimin arches his back deep to grant the other man all the leverage he needs to push in entirely, sinking his reddened tip nice and deep, causing Jimin to drool onto the tiled floor. “I’m a cockslut...I’m your fucking cumdump...”

As he’s fucked dumb Jimin abstains from touching himself. Without looking, he knows he’s painfully hard, dripping pre-cum. “Feel my tight ass gripping you...s-shit—your fat cock stretches me so good.” He peeks over his shoulder and watches Jungkook nip his bottom lip so tight that he’s sure the skin is breaking. Jungkook’s cheeks look hot and dewy from exertion; small beads of combined sweat and water drip down his soaked fringe and trail down his tensed muscles. “Gonna—oh, god...” the blonde strains against Jungkook’s hold and cums untouched, streaking his release down the tile wall, cut off by the younger cursing and stilling within him, so close to pushing every drop into his spent hole. “C-cum in me,” he whines, feeling the younger swell within him as his pitch gets louder. “Please, please, pleaseee.” He locks eyes with Jungkook and loses himself in his dark feral orbs. “Fill me up again...and again—“

Jungkook's eyes remain open, focusing on Jimin's desperate face as he cums, buried to the hilt, ensuring his blonde receives every single drop of what he has to offer. His cock throbs heavily and cum erupts like a volcanic explosion, thick and hot inside. "Oh my god, my little butterfly."

His throaty, strained moan reverberates as he empties himself inside, smoothing his large hands across Jimin's back before wrapping around his torso, pulling him up and holding him close against his flushed chest. A soft kiss on his neck follows before Jungkook pulls himself out with a quiet whine of oversensitivity.

"You're so perfect for me," Jungkook praises, wasting no time in carelessly shoving his fingers inside Jimin to prod the cum out, letting most of it simply dribble out and wash down the drain. “Still down for overwatch? I'm not sleepy…”

Jimin stretches and feels his body become slack with exhaustion. It has been a LONG day. He doesn’t care much for the game himself, but any opportunity to see Jungkook’s childish joy is a coveted one. Plus, he has to get better so he could beat him one day. The man is good at everything, he muses internally, recalling the beautiful photography sets he made just for him. There has to be a weak point somewhere.

“I’ll need one of your bananamilks if I’m going to stay awake much longer,” he yawns, resting against the younger’s side as they walk into the living room. “And then get ready to fight for your life, Jeon,” he smiles. “I won’t go easy on you.”

Jungkook hands Jimin a cozy bathrobe to wear to the living room and opts for boxers for himself. He’s generally warm, and nothing beats sitting in your couch, gaming in only his underwear. Well, maybe being naked, but that'd be cheating if he taunted the blonde with his goods during an Overwatch session.

“Let me get some, you start up the game okay?” Jungkook points towards the large TV as he diverts from their path to go find the fridge. He pulls out a couple bananamilks—more than one is surely going to be needed, at least for him. He shoves a few drinks into his arms as he carries them to the living room, letting them plop down on the glass table in front of the couch. “Alright, drink up, let's do practice rounds first to warm you up.” He grabs a drink for himself and sips on it as he raises a coy eyebrow towards Jimin.

Jimin exhales a big yawn and stretches one arm to the ceiling while the other brings the sweet milk to his lips. He takes a couple gulps and lets the cool liquid swirl along his taste buds, already familiar with the taste, nearly addicted to the artificial flavor.

"Practice rounds?" He blinks up at Jungkook with glassy eyes, snuggling deeper into his fluffy and luxurious robe to get cozy. He sets the sugary drink aside and grips the controller with both hands, ready to try his best. "No bets, this time around," he winks at the younger man, "After I beat you, it's time for bed."

Jungkook fake pouts, slumping down on the couch with his controller in one hand and his drink in the other, chugging it down fast. “One bet. The winner gets backrubs.” He glances over at Jimin with his childish grin, finishing off his milk before starting the game.

"Hmf." Jimin smiles ahead at the tv screen and fiddles with the controller in his hands, already sweating, having lost in his mind. Why did he propose this idea? He must be a glutton for punishment because there is no way he can win against the younger. Yet... "One bet," Jimin emphasizes with one finger, "But if there's backrubs on the line, just know, I will try my best to win." He's overly ambitious. Even when he knows he's complete shit at the game, he can't help but fully commit to everything he does, whether it be a quick round of Overwatch or a spontaneous tattoo.

“Bet you'd love that. I'm great at back rubs,” Jungkook counters, nudging the elders shoulder with his own before he starts the match. “Okay, best out of three. I'm a bit tired.” He admits, rubbing his eye with one hand before grappling at his controller the second the round starts. Kook loves back rubs, but in all honesty, there isn't much else he wants than to be on the giving end in this... He knows he can easily have his way without the bet, but there is this part of him that feels more satisfied if it is earned.

As the match carries on, he shows no mercy on the first round. Second round, he slacks slightly, giving Jimin the illusion of getting better. Actually, he is getting better. Kook can tell Jimin tries really hard, but in the end, he’s still no match compared to the younger. Now Jungkook wants to lose. So, on the last round, he deliberately slacks off and gives his reactions more time as he eventually would be at a disadvantage.

“Damn…” He chuckles as if he wasn't just allowing Jimin to absolutely crush him.

Jimin tucks his lip in concentration, feeling a small bead of sweat trail down his craned neck. He squints his eyes to see the screen clearly—everything is moving so quick he doesn’t fully compute his next move until it’s already made. But his efforts seem to pay off, surprisingly.

“A-am I winning?” he asks, aghast. He can barely believe it, but he isn’t one to argue with a good thing. He haphazardly mashes the buttons on his controller, physically moving it to the motion of his character on the screen. His head tilts to the side to follow the virtual battle until it’s confirmed—he won. He sets down his controller with a shy smile and looks up at Jungkook with puppy eyes. “You’re a good teacher, Jeon. Too good.” He stands from the couch and nods his head towards the direction of the bedroom. “I’m ready for my reward now.”

Jungkook groans in his fake annoyance, throwing the controller to the side as he stands up, quickly wrapping his arms around Jimin only to pick him up and carry him to the bedroom.

“You did well, Jimin-aaaah~'' He draws out the endearing twist to the elders name, knowing it will make him a bit flustered, however, certain he’ll love it.

Jimin is so small, and despite the muscular build, he’s light in Jungkook's arms. The photographer kicks the door closed behind them with his heel, approaching the large bed and gently placing the blonde down on the soft sheets.

“I'm a decent big spoon, just saying.”

“I know,” Jimin smiles, remembering the previous night. Jungkook held him close and breathed heavily in his sleep, utterly dead to the world. It’s as if his presence made the younger sleep deeply, or at least that’s how Jimin likes to remember it.

Jimin touches his own cheeks to feel the heat radiate off them. He’s an absolute puddle after Jungkook said his name. It seems that now it only takes the smallest bit of effort from the younger to make him pliant and soft. With his easy defeat and the way Jungkook happily slung him over his shoulder, Jimin wonders just what’s gotten into him. Must be the sugar rush off the bananamilk, he thinks.

Jimin wriggles out of his robe and crawls under the covers, warming his body within the plush designer material. “I make a great little spoon,” he smiles, contentedly nestled in the warm embrace of the oversized bedding, “...so I’ve been told.”

Jungkook manages to keep his face straight, for the most part. His lips twitches, not so subtly displeased with the sentence, '...so I've been told.’ He’s not surprised that Jimin has likely had many partners in his past, but he will surely be the last.

He joins Jimin underneath the covers and presses his warm skin against the blonde's small back. Kook's hands reach between them, smoothing his palm across the fine, prominent line showcasing Jimin's spine... He thinks that sometime he should get a proper photograph of this visual.

“I'd love to have your back tattooed as well,” Kook adds, not exactly directing his words towards Jimin himself—more so discussing out in the air, all while his hand mindlessly rub up and down, feeling every dent and curve of Jimin's body.

Jimin closes his eyes and enjoys the slow sensation of Jungkook rubbing him, from the wide expanse of his shoulder blades down to the small dip of his lower back. A small moan presses from his lips as the pressure builds around the tensed muscles of his deep tissue, then softens around his delicate spine. It's all the more reason to fall so quick and deep with the photographer. He can be rough and treat Jimin like he isn't a breakable model, then treat him like the most precious and fragile being on earth. He's soft and sweet yet wholly motivated and demanding at times. Perhaps it's his sleepy state of mind, but Jimin instantly nods in agreement, committing to the plan. Even if Jungkook's musing wasn't directed at anyone in particular, he is interested in what exactly the younger has in mind.

"What would you like to mark onto my back?" He asks, rolling his hips gently into the crook of Jungkook's groin.

Jungkook feels his cock twitch at the small sound emitting from Jimin's plushy lips, and the way the elder gently presses against it surely doesn't do anything but spur his erection to awaken. One would say he's insatiable, but truly he's never been this hungry for a person before.

“I would love…” Kook inches his hips closer, making it known that he's already feeling needier by the second. “A snake,” he adds with a low voice. His calloused fingertips trace from Jimin's shoulder down to the dimples on his lower back. “All the way down.” His hand movee to settle on Jimin's hips, softly digging his fingers into his skin to feel how the flesh protrudes between his digits. He presses his hardened cock against the blondes ass as a quiet sigh slips past his lips—the memory of being inside is still fresh on his mind. Seemingly, his cock remembers vividly as well. “I'd love to see it every time I play with you.”

Jimin rolls his hips again, deliberate and tight against Jungkook's hardening length. "Mhm," he hums. "Okay, I'll get it." The mere thought of the man playing with him over and over while his hardened cock grinds against his bare ass makes Jimin's arousal pit in the hollow of his stomach. He melts into the younger's touch as he grips and holds tight to his hips. Less and less, Jimin worries about the repercussions of his actions. If it feels right, he's doing it. The same philosophy goes for his clothing line, and it extends to each new step he takes with the photographer. He reaches between his thighs and palms his aching length, so desperate and needy for more relief. "You can mark me with whatever you want."

"I know." Jungkook breathes into Jimin's neck. Huffs fan against Jimin’s skin, hot and shallow, and hands travel down further to his ass, shamelessly grabbing at the plump cheek. "I will mark every inch of your body one way or the other. You're mine, right?" Kook presses a soft kiss on Jimin's neck, loving the way his body shudders slightly under his simple touch.

"Yes, sir," Jimin breathes, arching his back so his ass is flush with Jungkook's aching shaft. "I'm yours to mark and claim and fuck." At the peak of his desperation, Jimin says whatever comes to mind, paying no mind to how needy he sounds. It's so late and all his body wants is to be impossibly close to the other man, by any means. He wraps his hand around his rock-hard cock and strokes languidly, muffling his pitchy moans into a nearby pillow.

"That's right." Jungkook whispers into Jimin's ear before lightly sucking his earlobe between his teeth, giving it a playful tug. Kook glances down at his clothed cock, aching and staining the fabrics with droplets of his precum. “Fuck...you already got me wet again." He chuckles through a breathy sigh, not hesitating to undress, freeing his heavy length to fall onto Jimin's bare ass. He uses his hands to spread Jimin, just enough to place his cock against the puffy hole, rubbing his entire length between the plump cheeks in a teasing manner. His hips move lazily with no care to how needy his own sleepy, raspy groans must sound. "I'm gonna fuck you again. I'm sure your little hole doesn't need any preparation this time, no?"

Jimin shakes his head; face buried deep in the soft pillow. He quickens his pace, stroking his throbbing cock as Jungkook lines himself up and prods his glistening tip at his entrance. Without much coaxing, the younger slips inside, using the glide of his precum to ease in and out with shallow prods. Jimin's mouth falls open as he tries to compose his thoughts, but the words fall out into the open as filthy little confessions, telling the younger exactly how he'd like to be used.

"Fuck me slow...and deep. Please." He whimpers into the pillow, clutching it desperately in his free hand while the other works his own precum over his reddened tip, teasing the receptive head of his cock while Jungkook plays with his ass. The soreness from earlier has completely subsided. All he feels is an overwhelming desire to be connected to Jungkook at all times; to be insatiable, together. "Cum in me. I'll keep it warm—fuck..." His breaths become uneven and labored as he strokes his hand down his shaft in a smooth motion. "...fill my ass. Wanna feel you inside me while I sleep."

Jungkook adores Jimin's filthy mouth. The more riled up the blonde gets, the filthier his language becomes; needy, begging and whiny… He doesn't say anything, but responds with actions. He grasps Jimin's leg and lifts it up slightly to grant himself access, slowly thrusting himself in deeper—jewelry on his swollen tip grazing the deepest parts with ease. His other hand is used as a cushion for his head as he lays on his side, hand tugging at the back of Jimin's curls to bring his ear closer to his lips.

"You may keep fucking your hand all you want, but be wise with your orgasm.'' Jungkook moans when he feels Jimin's ass clench around cock, moving in and out of him at a tortuously slow pace. ''But I won't stop if you cum too fast into your pretty little hand...fuck...I can fall asleep like this, cock buried in you, using you like my own little cockwarmer." He let go of Jimin's hair, laying his head down comfortably on the pillow as he hookw the elders leg over his hip, lazily grinding his hips into his ass, low breathy moans taking over his ability, or want, to speak.

"But Jungkookieee," Jimin whimpers aloud, unable to reel in the tone of his voice once the younger man slowly drags his thick cock in and out of his tight hole torturously slow. The fresh piercing glides against his velvet walls and teases his sensitive prostate; swollen and throbbing from overuse. Jimin pumps his dick occasionally but temporarily refrains from going too fast out of fear he might cum too soon. He was already so close when Jungkook entered him that he could cum just from the delicious stretch.

"Mmf--" Jimin muffles his needy noises into the pillow and focuses on their connection, hot breath and sinful praises falling from Jungkook's cherry lips as he melds their bodies together with a gentle roll of his hips. "G-gonna..." He smothers his face in the pillow and starts to stroke himself when the pleasure becomes too much to bear. "Gonna cum around your cock...Gonna—ahh—" He loses his composure and shakily shoots his release into his small hand, smearing the fluid messily as he clenches, then lets go of everything.

If Jimin hadn’t been used three times already, Koo could have been less considerate. He would have wanted the elder to continue to stroke himself through the oversensitivity, but he'd been so good. Koo decides to just let Jimin relax and take what the younger one gives.

"I love the sounds you make. You sound so desperate for me... fuck..." Jungkook's hips grind faster, no longer pulling out all the way, instead keeping himself snug and deep inside as he shallowly drives his pelvis against Jimin's ass, piercing still prodding and abusing the elders prostate. "Keep squeezing, keep going, I'll cum..." Jungkook moans through his dampened lips, swollen from biting down on them. "Oh, fuck... you're so tight, I'm gonna cum—" his low words break into a silence, heavy breaths replacing them as he grabbed Jimin harshly only to press his hips flush against his ass, reaching as deep as possible. His cock desperately throbs inside of Jimin, gushing with spurts of his thick, sticky cum claiming it's spot. "Mine..." Jungkook whispers, letting go of Jimin and wrapping his arm around to hug him. He keeps his pulsating cock lodged inside to keep all the cum securely in place. "You're so cute. It's the third time today and you're still so so needy... ahh, you're perfect for me." He mumbles as he presses his cheek against the pillow, closing his eyes to finally get some sleep.

Jimin pulsates around Jungkook's cock as it remains deep inside his abused hole. He feels calm and secure, connected together, used for the photographer's pleasure. He could slip off to sleep at any moment, but the sticky mess tacking his hand to his slick cock distracts him from fully surrendering to his heavy eyelids.

"W-wait." He remembers back to Jungkook's personal studio—how wide his deep brown eyes got when Jimin crawled on hands and knees to lap his own cum off the floor. Jimin lifts his sticky hand from his twitching cock and looks over his shoulder at Jungkook. The man is already halfway asleep, but his eyes are open to slits, watching him patiently. "Look how hard you made me cum, Jeon..." He holds his dripping fingers to the light and marvels at how the thick fluid slides down his palm. Before it falls onto his wrist, he captures it on his tongue, flattening it on his skin for the younger to see. "Mm," he moans, moving his hand to lick away every drop.

Jungkook's doe eyes widen at the sight, swirling with admiration. Jimin truly was perfect, everything he wants and needs. "C'mere," he sleepily whispers as he reaches to grasp Jimin's chin, turning the man’s neck to draw him in for a kiss, humming in content at the taste of the elders' release mixed with their spit. Jungkook pulls back with a coy smile and eyes, struggling to stay open as he buries his face in Jimin's back, arm secured around him as he remains still inside, keeping his cum from seeping out. "Goodnight baby," Kook murmurs into the smaller man's back, mouthing a silent 'I love you' before pressing his lips against his clammy skin, quickly drifting off to dreamland.

#fic: mused obsession #yandere jungkook #yandere bts #jungkook x jimin #jikook #jikook smut #jungkook smut #jimin smut #bts mxm #bts mxm smut #kookmin #kookmin smut #sombreboy #chimoona

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janeofcakes · 5 years

Text

Chapter 15

** This is a long one! But a great one. Nuff said. Enjoy. **

John falls back in his chair as if he’d been struck. His expression displays the pure shock that courses through every inch of his body. He can’t think, has no idea how to think and can’t make himself speak. There are no words to say anyway. His mind has completely shut down, the only words are Sherlock’s echoing hatefully in his brain.

“You hated me,” Sherlock continues in a panicked tone. “You kept me from you daughter and refused to see me. I forced you to help me with one last case and you despised me for it. You saved my life and then Eurus.”

Somewhere in the middle of Sherlock’s confession, John’s eyes closed and his face fell into his hands. Another pane of glass shatters and John can see it - Mary’s death. She threw herself in front of Sherlock. She saved his life after having nearly taken it. She gave him back to John. She knew. John loved him and she knew it. But John was so angry and confused and he blamed Sherlock. He tortured Sherlock.

John gasps, his breath catching in his throat loudly and he struggles to breathe for just a moment. His eyes pop open and stare at Sherlock in horror as another pane shatters.

“The morgue,” he rasps. “I beat you, kicked you. I could’ve killed you.”

“I deserved it.”

“No, you didn’t. No, you fucking didn’t,” John nearly shouts. “No one deserves that. I was stupid, Sherlock. Incredibly stupid.”

“I’d killed your wife!” Sherlock cuts in.

“No, you didn’t!” John cries, dropping to his knees in front of the detective. He rests his hands on Sherlock’s knees and leans into his space. “I remember, Sherlock, I remember now. She saved you because she knew I’d be lost without you. She knew I couldn’t lose you again. It wasn’t your fault and I shouldn’t have blamed you. I was just so...lost. I was a fool. I’m sorry, Sherlock. I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

Tears fall down the detective’s cheeks and he is shaking his head. For a moment, John is afraid he’s going to argue the point, but then he sees Sherlock’s face. Really sees it. Relief, joy, sadness, forgiveness. He swoops John into his arms in a crushing embrace and weeps on his shoulder. John envelopes his friend and holds tightly.

“I’m sorry, Sherlock,” he mumbles, meaning it more than ever in his life.

“I thought you’d hate me,” the detective breaks the silence after what seems like a very long time. “You hated me so much then.”

“No.”

“You kept her away from me and then I adopted her right under your nose. Gave her my name and your old room. Everything in defiance of your wishes.”

“No,” John doesn’t know whether to pull back to look him in the eye or just keep holding on. He finally elects the former and meets the detective’s blurry gaze. “You did everything right. I can’t think of anyone else I would rather have raising Rosie. You did it to honor our friendship, not destroy it. And you brought her every day to see me. You told her all about me. She probably knows more about me than I do.”

John smiles fondly and squeezes his hands where they rest on Sherlock’s hips. The detective sniffles, his red-rimmed eyes wet, but his features are more relaxed than they have been in days. John knows he shouldn’t say a word, shouldn’t spoil the peace between them, but he cannot pass up the opportunity. Sherlock could whisk out the door and bury himself in cases again. John slides his fingers from Sherlock’s body and bites his lip. The detective takes the hint and slowly begins moving his hands off John’s shoulders and down his arms.

“Why do you call her Watson?” John stares at his flatmate in surprise at the words that sprang from his mouth. It is not what he meant to say at all and now that he has, he isn’t sure what to do. Sherlock looks just as taken aback.

“I started it straight away,” the man begins before John can apologize. “From her first night in the flat. She was only a few months old and did not resemble either of you yet. It wasn’t until later that she had your hair and smile, your eyes. We visited you every day, but when we were at home and elsewhere I wanted…”

Sherlock stops and swallows hard, as though struggling with words he has kept inside for so long. He fixes John with soft eyes and squeezes his biceps just above the elbow.

“I...I missed you so much and wanted you with me always,” he breathes. “Each time I said Watson I felt closer to you. Almost like a part of you was there.”

“Sherlock,” John’s voice is light as a breeze. His hands are on his flatmate’s hips again and he leans forward to bring his lips to Sherlock’s, but the detective lurches back and stands quickly. John falls back on his ass, his back thumping against the chair. He stares up at Sherlock, astonished as the tall man declares something about tea and bounds to the kitchen.

After he has disappeared, John leans into the chair and hugs his knees to his chest. He rests his chin on the hard knot of his left kneecap and lets his eyes drift around the room. The animal skull with headphones, the beloved violin on the desk, the human skull over the fireplace, and then he sees it. He frees his legs and stands to approach the unfamiliar object. It is a 5x7 photograph in a plain black frame. In it, are himself and Sherlock standing close together. He is holding an infant Rosie in his arms and one of Sherlock’s arms is draped around his back, his fingers visible on John’s far shoulder. It must have been taken before Mary died. Perhaps she was behind the camera.

John takes it from the mantle and holds it in both hands. His eyes take in every detail of their body language and smiles. A very calm happiness settles over him and he brushes Sherlock’s face on the photo with his thumb. They look like a family. A proper family. A smile ghosts over John’s lips and his mind clears of all else. That’s the family he wants. It’s what he has always wanted. He may not remember his entire life with Sherlock, but he has remembered enough. He knows how he felt at the wedding. Like the wrong person was walking down the aisle. Like he was making a mistake. But how could he stop it right there? Then Sherlock deduced the baby. John’s first surge of excitement was for himself and Sherlock. His grin had faded the second he felt Mary squeezing his fingers in hers and his vision of the future went from tall curls to short blonde. He’d seen the same look in Sherlock’s eyes and then he disappeared, left the wedding and god, John had wanted to go after him. He had wanted to stand outside the sitting room window of 221B on the pavement below, doing one of those stupid things they do on bloody awful rom coms. Hold his mobile over his head playing “In Your Eyes” at full volume or hold up enormous notes for Sherlock to read. “I know we can never be, but to me, you are perfect.”

Perfect.

Was there ever anyone more perfect for him than Sherlock?

John closes his eyes abruptly, struck by a sudden wave of memory that pulls him under. A pane of glass shatters and he sees himself in a lab at Bart’s. The man from the park, Mike Stamford stands close by as John passes his mobile to Sherlock. For just the smallest of seconds, their fingers brush and electricity tingles through John’s whole body. And those words, smooth and silky in that beautiful baritone that has secretly tickled John’s spine ever since.

Afghanistan or Iraq?

“John?”

John’s eyes snap open and he turns to see Sherlock standing not four feet away. When had he come back in? He is looking at the photo in John’s hands.

“Oh. Um,” John fumbles for words and replaces it on the mantle. “Sorry. It caught my eye.”

The detective wears a soft smile and has a far away look in his eyes as he studies the photo.

“It was taken shortly after she was born. We were so happy,” he mutters wistfully. John watches him, unable to tear his eyes away from that face and those eyes. This man is his life, the very air he breathes, and it becomes more obvious every moment John spends with him.

Sherlock senses John’s eyes on him and clears his throat. He straightens his spine and the whole atmosphere of the room changes. Sherlock addresses him in a businesslike tone and heads for the kitchen.

“Come, John, the tea is getting cold.”

***

“Can you come to the mini-dance marathon on Friday, Daddy?” Rosie asks at dinner that evening.

“Erm. The what?” John looks up from slicing a piece of chicken. She had just told a story about she and her friends playing at recess, so it seemed a sudden change in topic. Granted, she was prone to doing that, but John was still getting used to it.

“The mini-dance marathon. I knew Papa wouldn’t tell you, but you finished those exercise visits with your doctor and can walk just fine now,” she grins at him, cup in both hands, and milk mustache on her upper lip. “You can sit down if you get tired.”

“Oh, yes. Yes, I could.”

“You could dance with Papa for the slow songs!” she squeals.

“Your father may already have plans, Watson,” Sherlock pipes up suddenly, a fork full of potatoes hovering between his plate and mouth. “Perhaps with Lestrade.”

“Ha, ha, nope,” she snickers into her cup. “Uncle Greg and Aunt Molly are going to a fancy restaurant on Friday.”

“You’re going to be there?” John asks in a light tone.

“Every child must be accompanied by an adult,” he shrugs. “You’re under no obligation.”

“No, I’d love to go,” John interjects with a smile on his lips. “I’d like to see you dance. Wouldn’t you, Rosie?”

“I have!” she says proudly, putting her cup on the table and licking off her mustache.

“You have?” he leans in conspiratorially, glancing at his flatmate mischievously. “Is he any good?”

“Mmm. He’s okay.”

They grin at one another and laugh quietly. Sherlock cocks a brow and raises the fork to his mouth.

“Wait until Friday,” he grumbles almost petulantly. “We’ll see who can dance, John Watson.”

“I look forward to it,” he flashes Sherlock a brilliant smile.

***

“Good night, my angel, time to close your eyes,” John sings quietly as Rosie blinks slowly, nearly asleep already. “And save these questions for another day. I think I know what you’ve been asking me. I think you know what I’ve been trying to say.”

He hears the click of movement, bones cracking in an ankle or knee from the door. He doesn’t want to turn away from Rosie and give her any reason to employ delay tactics. Instead he continues the song. He knows Sherlock is listening. He doesn’t care. He’s done the same thing to get a sense of their routine - how many chapters, who reads to whom, whether or not songs are sung - but mostly just to see Sherlock in his element. He may be a magnificent detective, but he is an excellent father. John has never seen anything like it. Not that he knew much about fatherhood at this point, but surely Sherlock Holmes exemplifies the perfect one.

He and Rosie are so much alike and communicate on a level all their own. They do experiments together, identify countries and cities on maps, build together and keep notes on it all. There are notebooks upon notebooks of observations and test results in the bottom right drawer of Sherlock’s desk. John is sure there are more stored somewhere else too. They sometimes read things on Sherlock’s laptop together. Rosie whispers questions and Sherlock answers just as quietly. John loves to watch them read and play and cook together, even if he sometimes feels an intruder in their lives.

“I promised I would never leave you. Then you should always know wherever you may go, no matter where you are, I never will be far away,” John lets his voice fade. He snugs the covers up under her chin and gently smooths back her hair. His lips curl up and he leans to kiss Rosie’s forehead.. He tip-toes out of the room and closes the door without a sound.

John pads down the stairs and finds Sherlock in the sitting room at his desk. The fireplace and the laptop screen are all that lights the room. He smiles in the detective’s direction and heads for the kitchen.

“It’s all washed up and put away,” he says. John stops to focus his gaze upon the man.

“Thank you.”

“You bathed Watson and put her to bed,” he says while rolling his shoulders, not looking at him. The doctor lingers.

“I believe I’ll have a drink,” John tells him casually. ”Would you like one? Wine maybe?”

Sherlock meets his eyes with an intense gaze and parts his lips, but pauses before answering. John can feel the heat of his stare and has the sudden urge to rush to the desk and sit in his lap.

“Red, please.”

“Of course.”

John walks into the kitchen. He opens the cupboard and removes two wine glasses. Placing them on the counter, he goes for the wine and corkscrew. He tries to clear his mind as he twists the handle and fails. It could be so perfect, the three of them, just like in the photograph. John is certain Sherlock shares his feelings, but they aren’t a couple. Sherlock said so himself. And who is this other person? Is it possible for him to love them both? Will Sherlock ever admit how he feels about John? Or maybe the proper phrasing of that question is how he felt about John.

John shakes the thought from his mind and concentrates on opening the wine. He pours and carries the glasses into the dimly lit sitting room. He saunters over to Sherlock’s desk and places one glass next to the laptop. The man’s eyes slide up to meet John’s. The gaze is wary but intrigued. The corner of John’s mouth curls. Sherlock raises a brow. John slips by and sits in his chair, leaning back comfortably. He sips from his own glass and smiles lazily at his flatmate.

Sherlock stands, gracefully picking up the glass and walking to his own chair directly across from the doctor’s. He drinks, not moving his eyes from John’s. His lips quirk up and he looks at the glass.

“This is delightful,” he remarks.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” John snorts. “I do remember a thing or two about wine, you idiot. And what it pairs with.”

“Mm. Yes, this would have gone very well with dinner,” he pouts his gorgeous lips and licks them slowly to taste the wine more thoroughly, ignorant of the effect it has on John because if he knows, he is a monster. John can physically feel his knees turn to jelly and is extremely happy he is safe in his chair and not still standing by the desk. He takes a rather sizable swallow and turns his head to watch the fire.

“I’m sorry, John,” Sherlock’s voice is near silence. When John shifts his gaze, the detective wears a most sincere expression. “These memories are...difficult. I wish I could provide more comfort instead of only painful answers.”

“S’not your fault,” John slurs. “I mean that, Sherlock. Especially about Mary. I’m sorry I reacted the way I did back then.”

“You don’t need to apologize.”

“But I do,” John cuts him off. He slides to the edge of the cushion and rests his hand on Sherlock’s knee. The detective’s intense stare returned the moment John’s fingers touched the soft fabric of his trousers, but it has a different quality and emotion behind it this time. “I hate that you had to live for the last five years with that in your mind. Thinking I despised you. I’m sorry.”

“Watson kept them at bay,” Sherlock replies in a choked voice. John smiles fondly now. He doesn’t move his hand.

“She is wonderful,” he sighs. “It’s always been the two of you against the world, hasn’t it? You’re like two peas in a pod.”

“The same has been said about you and I,” the man answers and sips the wine. He seems relaxed, but his eyes dip to John’s hand on his knee for just a fraction of a second. It’s all John needs to see to know his friend is actually ill at ease and, recalling what happened last time, he takes his hand away. He leans back into his chair again and takes a short pull.

“Tell me about a case,” he says. “What’s Greg had you working on?”

Sherlock fills him in on the double murder he closed most recently and describes a few minor cases as well. By the time he has finished, both men are in danger of dozing off right there in the sitting room. The detective yawns before he can begin another story and his doctor waves him off.

“We should go to sleep. Rosie has school tomorrow.”

“Yes. Yes, you’re right.”

John rises, picking up both of their wine glasses from the elaborate area rug. He goes to the kitchen, rinses and leaves them in the sink. Instead of leaving via the other door and heading down the hall to their bedroom, John goes back to the door he entered. He leans against the frame and watches Sherlock, who has moved back to the desk and is staring at his laptop again. The light of the screen illuminates his angular face with an eerie blue glow, the fire in mere embers now.

“Aren’t you coming to bed?” John asks. Sherlock raises a tired gaze to look at his friend.

“John,” he wets his lips and rubs his hands over his face, “you know about the wedding. You remember it. I told you all that happened after. You know we were never a couple.”

I know. I love you.

“I also know that you haven’t been sleeping,” John tells him instead, “and the easiest way to make sure you do is having you next to me.”

The detective stares and finally opens his mouth to protest.

“Sherlock, you’re exhausted. Come with me please. It’s fine. It’s all fine.”

He closes his eyes for a long moment and nods when he opens them. Standing, he closes the laptop and follows John to the bedroom. They take turns in the loo and settle in next to one another, lights off and both staring at the ceiling in the darkness.

“Sherlock,” John whispers into the silence, “I know you’ve been avoiding me.”

“John…”

“Please don’t. You don’t have to. No matter what I remember, I will never turn you away again,” he pauses and has to add the other reason Sherlock needs to be around the flat. The main reason. “And Rosie needs you. She misses you.”

He hears his friend swallow and then sigh. Sherlock shifts in the bed and runs his hand through his curls. John turns his head toward the man and can just make out his features.

“Yes, I know. I miss her too. I’ll stop taking so many cases. ”

“Thank you, Sherlock.”

John can see him turn his head and look at him. He also sees Sherlock smile.

“You’re welcome, John.”

***

The morning goes smoothly, as usual. It took no time at all to incorporate John once he was finished with physical therapy and “up to snuff”, as Rosie puts it. Sherlock takes her to school on his own, having an appointment with Greg to complete the police report for a recent case. Tedious, both he and Rosie declared with smiles on their faces. John bids them goodbye and does the washing up. He can’t help but think about the dance marathon coming up. Even without all of his memories, he is quite certain he has never seen Sherlock Holmes dance. He grins at the picture it paints while drying the dishes and putting them away.

When finished, John walks into the sitting room with a cup of tea and the plan to read a book. He stops in front of his chair, about to sit when he sees Sherlock’s laptop is open and on. It still displays the website the detective was reading last night, clearly a blog. John frowns. Sherlock doesn’t seem like the blog sort. Rather more like one who would consider it a waste of time, really, and that’s what makes it absolutely essential that John read this blog.

John leaves the book on his chair and goes to the desk. The site’s title has him stumbling into the desk chair instantly, his cup clinking against the table and nearly spilling. The Personal Blog of John H. Watson.

“John Watson is no longer updating this blog,” he reads aloud. The paragraph goes on to refer visitors to Sherlock’s consulting detective website. John glances through the blog titles with interest - The Mayfly Man, The Hollow Client, A Study in Pink, The Blind Banker - nearly all past cases Sherlock has told him about. Then the words ‘About Me’ catch his attention. “ ‘I am an experienced medical doctor recently returned from Afghanistan.’ Afghanistan?”

Afghanistan or Iraq?

“Oh, shit,” John breathes. That’s what they had told him. He had been invalided out of the army while touring in Afghanistan, though he still had no memory of it or any of his time in the service.

John clicks on The Mayfly Man and begins reading. He stops almost immediately and blinks in disbelief. He goes back to the beginning and reads aloud.

“ ‘We’d just returned from a quiet, civilized evening in the pub when our latest client arrived at Baker Street.’ We?”

John continues until he reaches the end of the case. He goes back to the homepage and reads case after case. He doesn’t eat when lunchtime comes and goes. He is completely enveloped in the website. He reads the tale of Sholto and his wedding to Mary, and the Hound of the Baskerville. By the time Sherlock walks in the flat’s door, John has read all but two cases. He stares at the screen unseeing, trying to remember even one of these cases. He closes his eyes and can see blackened panes of glass labeled now with case titles. He stands before them in his mind’s eye, willing rocks to appear in his hands so he can hurl them at the glass. But his hands remain empty.

“John?” the sound of Sherlock’s voice coaxes his eyes open and he stares at the detective. Sherlock looks back hesitantly, not sure what to make of his flatmate’s tense, troubled, pained expression. Suddenly he remembers what he had been reading the night before and then again this morning. Rosie had pulled him away from the laptop before he could close it. Sherlock fixes him with wide eyes. “John.”

“It’s me,” the doctor blurts. “It was me. The cases you told me about, I was your partner.”

“Yes,” Sherlock replies cautiously.

“And then I wrote a fucking blog about it.”

“You did,” the detective nods once slowly, trying to ascertain John’s reaction. He is certainly in disbelief, but is he also angry? Will he be shouting soon?

“I just, I can’t believe it. What…” John’s face appears to be all astonishment.

“You read all of the cases?”

“All, but one.”

“Do you remember any of them?”

“No,” John presses his lips together and lets out a disappointed sigh. “Nothing. Why can’t I, Sherlock? It was my life for years. You were my life. You still are. There are so many things I should know about you. I should know everything! Why can’t I remember?”

“It’s all right, John,” Sherlock steps closer, wanting to calm him and wondering how to do it. “You have only been home a few weeks and only just learned of this. Give it time.”

“Damn it, Sherlock! I remember things about Molly and Greg. Why not you? How much time can it possibly take when it’s someone so important?” he snaps, his anger and frustration reaching the boiling point. He is about to start shouting when he feels a strong hand on his shoulder. John looks up at the detective. He looks more determined than John has ever seen him, and he is close. He is so close now. John can feel the heat rising from his body like a fire. He wants to touch him, create more points of contact between them.

If Sherlock can tell what is in John’s mind, he doesn’t let on. He gives him a stern but encouraging look and squeezes the shoulder beneath his fingers.

“We have all the time in the world, John,” he rumbles in that low, sexy baritone. John’s knees are as weak as they were the night before. “And we can make new memories in the meantime. We already are with Rosie. And together.”

“I know and I’m glad for that. I am,” John’s eyes slide to the laptop again. “I just wish I knew more about you. About our past.”

“It will come, John. It will all come back to you,” Sherlock smiles warmly.

“When did you get to be so patient?” he jokes. “Am I in another dimension?”

Neither able to resist, they both descend into giggles. Sherlock breaks into a loud belly laugh when John gives a little snort with his chuckles and he is struck silent. It is the most glorious, perfect sound John has ever heard. He wants to hear it again and again, for the rest of his life.

“Come with me,” Sherlock’s voice beckons as he quiets to soft chuckles.

“What?” John blinks in confusion. “Where?”

“On a case. Come with me on twelve cases. Your knowledge of medicine is vast. You could advise me like you did then.”

John’s eyes sparkle. Sherlock looks so excited and John is thrilled. Absolutely thrilled. He wants to say yes. Oh god, yes. He would love nothing more. The chance to use his skills - he is not ready to try working at a surgery again, not yet - the potential for danger - he isn’t sure why that is so appealing - spending even more time with Sherlock - god, Sherlock. Every time John lays eyes on him, he wants to touch him. Maybe more panes of glass will break if he spends more time with Sherlock doing what they used to, retracing old steps.

“I’d love to,” he replies with a grin.

“Perfect,” Sherlock’s lips quirk up. God, John wants to kiss them. “I will inform you when I have a suitable case.”

“Great. That means a lot to me, Sherlock. Thanks.”

Sherlock lifts his hand from John’s shoulder and disappears into the kitchen. John’s skin, even with his jumper on, feels the chill of not having Sherlock touch him. He wants the warmth of his flatmate’s body next to him again. John sighs and leans back comfortably in the desk chair with a wistful expression.

“John?”

He bolts upright in the chair when Sherlock’s head pops into view from the kitchen doorway.

“You haven’t had lunch?”

“Uh, no,” John shifts his eyes away from his flatmate and back again, mildly confused. How would Sherlock have even noticed that? “No, I haven’t.”

Sherlock sashays into the room, positively preening. He stands in front of the desk, pushes the laptop closed, and allows his doctor to admire the view. At least, that’s what it seems like to John.

“Let’s go to lunch,” his voice has a delightfully excited tone. “I know a cafe reasonably close to the school. We could go slowly, take our time, and pick up Watson after we’re finished. It used to be your favorite spot for lunch.”

“As if I needed more convincing,” the doctor rises with a grin. “How fast can we get there? I’m starving.”

***

When the trio arrives in the school gymnasium that evening, music is already blaring and kids of all ages are moving about the room recklessly. Rosie tugs off her coat and all but throws it at Sherlock while she scans the mass of people for her friends. John is about to comment when an excited squeal cuts through the music and a tall red-haired girl rushes up to Rosie, who responds in a similar way. They throw their arms around one another in a tight hug.

“He’s here! He’s here!” Rosie shouts. She turns toward her fathers, hand grasping her friend’s. “This is my daddy, John Watson.”

“Hi!” the girl thrusts her other hand at John and he shakes it while the big brown eyes study his face thoroughly.

“Hello,” he answers. Just when he is beginning to wonder if Sherlock has taught all of Rosie’s friends about the power of observation the girl looks back at Rosie.

“His are really just like yours!”

“I know right!”

“Watson, are you going to introduce your friend?” Sherlock prompts, folding her coat over his arm.

“Oh! Oh, sorry, Daddy. This is my friend, Annika. She’s in Mrs. Thompson’s kindergarten class. We play at recess and after school.”

“It’s so nice to meet you, Annika,” John smiles, leaning toward the two girls to better hear as the music gets louder. “What a pretty name.”

“Thanks. It’s Swedish.”

“It’s lovely.”

Annika grins unabashedly and starts jumping in place as a tall blonde woman approaches.

“Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!” she cries, no less excited than Rosie and John is sure they will both be hanging from the basketball hoops in a minute or two. “Look, it’s Rosie’s daddy!”

“Ah, so this is the framed John Watson,” she greets him warmly. “Rachel Reynolds. I’ve heard so much about you. From Rosie.”

She adds the mention of Rosie to ward away the uncertain expression on John’s face and they both laugh as she shakes his hand. Her’s linger when John’s fingers let go and he immediately feels wary. To say Rachel is attractive would be an understatement. If she and Annika are truly of Swedish ancestry, this woman fits the bill with long blonde hair and blue eyes.

“Have you seen Jack and Eliza?” Rosie suddenly yells over the din. John slips his hand out of Rachel’s while she is distracted by the girls.

“They’re over there,” Annika points. “I came over to get you.”

“Papa?” she looks to Sherlock expectantly.

“Yes, Watson, you can go.”

“Yay!” the two girls cheer and run away.

“John,” Rachel is suddenly at his side, nudging her nose into his personal space. The music is loud, but she needn’t be so close for him to hear her. “May I call you John?”

“Of course,” he keeps his tone even in spite of his growing discomfort. She is far too close for his liking and not just because Sherlock is standing on his other side.

“I’m so glad Annika has a friend like Rosie. They have so much in common.”

“They do seem to be very good friends,” John tilts his head away to look her in the eye. Christ, the woman is as tall as Sherlock. Her hand is suddenly on his arm and he resists the urge to pull away.

“I’d love for them to spend more time together,” a sly smile spreads over her lips. “A playdate in the park perhaps? I have a blanket you and I could sit on. We could...chat. Become better acquainted.”

Rachel whispered the last few words into John’s ear under the guise of the music being too loud. Her breath is hot on his neck and he does step away from her this time. Frankly, he is surprised he doesn’t run himself right into Sherlock. That is, until he turns to see the detective is gone. John glances around almost frantically and catches sight of him a few yards away, leaning back against the wall with a petulant grimace on his face. John looks back at Rachel and gestures in his flatmate’s direction.

“Sorry,” he gives her an apologetic smile. “Excuse me.”

He is against the wall next to Sherlock in a second, breathing a sigh of relief. The detective keeps his eyes on the dancing mob, no doubt scanning for Rosie.

“My god,” John says under his breath, leaning a bit closer to Sherlock. “I can feel her eyes still on me all the way over here.”

“Yes, Miss Reynolds doesn’t worry over subtly,” Sherlock remarks, still not looking at John. “She is both a good mother and has a healthy appetite.”

“What?”

“Sex, John,” Sherlock finally turns his head slowly and meets the doctor’s confused gaze with one of steel grey. “An appetite for sex. And her methods of flirtation are very effective.”

“Oh,” John is speechless. Sherlock searches his flatmate’s shocked countenance and turns his head away, out at the dancing throng of children.

“At least she has good taste,” he shrugs. “You have her number. I suppose you’ll want to go on the playdate.”

“No,” John says simply. “I don’t have her number and I don’t want it.”

This declaration takes the detective by surprise, more than anything has in some time. Not since the first time Rosie blew out her diaper, in fact. Messy business, that. He swivels his neck quickly and stares at John, the very picture of consternation. John, on the other hand, is very irritated. Why the fuck would he want this woman, or any woman’s number? Has the bloody brilliant man not deduced his feelings or is he denying them? In spite of the anger and frustration threatening to bubble to the surface, John chooses to ignore Sherlock’s ignorance for for the moment. This is Rosie’s event and is meant to be fun. The last thing he wants to do is disrupt it with an argument.

“Neither here nor there,” he forces a smile, pushing back his ire and affecting a casual posture. “I can’t believe she’d choose me over you anyway.”

“She’s already tried.”

“Of course she has,” John snickers, casting a glance around the large room. “I bet they have all tried. You could have any single woman in this room.”

“I don’t want any of them.”

“Neither do I,” John’s voice is steady and sure.

Sherlock’s head snaps to the side. John meets his startled grey eyes with his own deep blue and determined gaze. It’s like he can see right through into that big brain within and watch the synapses firing. He knows Sherlock has correctly interpreted his meaning, but neither says a word about it.

They talk and laugh together for the next two hours with a few interruptions from Rosie and her friends, who easily entertain themselves dancing with seemingly endless energy. John feels oddly refreshed and comfortable, even with all the activity around them and all the other parents ambling up to meet him throughout the evening. It feels like one of the best times, the best conversations he and Sherlock have ever had.

With only an hour left in the marathon, Jack tilts his bag up and lets the remainder of his popcorn tumble into his mouth. He jumps to his feet and wads up the bag in his hands.

“Ready?” he asks around the mass of popcorn.

The three girls start nodding and shovel in one more handful of popcorn. Rosie has a swig from a water bottle as all three pop up to their feet. The group looks each other over and then dives back onto the dance floor. Sherlock wears a huge smile as he watches them from across the gym. Finally taking his eyes off that brilliant smile, John glances around toward the door they came in. He places a gentle hand on his flatmate’s wrist and when Sherlock’s eyes meet his, they look worried. John smiles quickly to allay his concerns and raises his own brows in question.

“The loos?” he asks and Sherlock’s shoulders relax. John hadn’t even realized they were tense. The detective nods toward the door.

“Turn right. It’s a few feet down the hall on the left.”

“Thanks. Won’t be a tick,” John winks and walks away. This time he can feel Sherlock’s eyes on him and he grins in satisfaction. And with the buzz of excitement cracking through his body. He moves just that smidgeon faster so he can return to Sherlock’s side quickly.

Once in the hall, he heads right and finds what he’s looking for with no trouble. He sees a long bank of sinks when he walks in. An opening in the center of the opposite wall leads to a short hall with stalls and urinals on one side, and shower stalls on the other. Those must be for the older kids to use after P.E. He wonders briefly, while standing before a urinal, how they keep the younger children from drenching themselves for fun. That is certainly what he would have done as a child. John chuckles to himself as he walks to the sinks and washes his hands.

John dries his hands with a paper towel as he approaches the door. Tossing it in the rubbish bin, he pulls the door open and steps into the hall, only the sight that greets him is not what he expects. A large rectangular swimming pool lies before him.

“What the hell?” John frowns. “How did I manage this?”

He is about to turn around when he notices the music. Is the pool connected to the gymnasium? There are doors at the other end of the pool that John is betting lead right into the dance. Surely they are locked on that side to keep the mob from diving in, but would likely push right open on this side. John walks briskly along the long side of the pool, but slows to a stop half way almost without realizing. Something is shaking loose in his mind. A pane of glass, one that is darker than the others, rattles quietly. Then louder and louder, more violently until John has a hand on either side of his head to ward away the pain of it.

The glass cracks and dark, evil laughter bursts through, chipping out a piece and freeing the black ooze of fear within. John watches in horror as it falls to the floor and shatters, the black pudding landing upon it and crawling toward him with a life of its own. John is petrified and can only watch as it gets closer. The rest of the glass suddenly follows in an earth-shattering explosion that pushes John a few steps back, but he stays on his feet. He closes his eyes against the impact and hunches over as if in pain. A low, sinister laugh finds his ears and he opens his eyes, staring straight ahead. He sees a pool like this one and a man. A man in a tailored suit walking toward him with a gleam in his eye and a cruel smile on his lips.

Everything rushes back and it’s so much, so fast, too much. John falls to his knees, his hands still clutching the sides of his head. And the man gets closer, his smile getting wider until he is right in front of John. He squats before him, his lips shaping words. His voice is a menacing hiss in John’s ear.

James Moriarty

“No, no,” John says mournfully, pain filling his voice. He squeezes his eyes shut tight and presses his palms hard against his ears. He can’t shut it out. He can’t stop it from coming.

“Hello, John Watson. So nice to finally meet you,” his voice is conversational, but his eyes are black and evil. “You’ve made our great detective even sharper. I should be angry, but it’s made the game much more fun.”

“Fuck off,” John had growled. The semtex vest was already strapped to his body. His hands were tied behind his back.

“I don’t know what he sees in you, honestly. You’re so ordinary,” Moriarty had smirked, looking at his watch. “He’ll be here soon, John. Time to put on the parka and play this round.”

“No!” John cries out and it echoes around the humid room. The smell of chlorine fills his nose and mingles with the scent of Moriarty’s aftershave. It’s all so clear. Every scent, every feeling, every heartbeat, every...tiny...red….dot. Floating, floating, hovering over Sherlock’s face and his heart. Oh god! It all plays out in his mind and it won’t stop. It won’t stop! John clutches at his stomach as if in pain. He feels sick. It’s so real and it’s too much, too much.

John gasps desperately. Think! He has to think, to concentrate on something else, some way out of this. Sherlock. Sherlock! Opening his eyes, John scrabbles for his mobile and draws it from his pocket. John stares for a long moment as if he can’t move. Moriarty’s voice rings loud in his mind, laughing, cursing, mocking, making promises about the torture awaits Sherlock and how he’ll make John watch. John finally slides his thumb over the mobile slowly, pushes emergency and holds it to his ear. He closes his eyes again, but it doesn’t stop. He doesn’t want to see it. Or hear it. But it won’t stop

“I can stop John Watson’s heart.”

He had wanted to tell Sherlock to go, to save himself, but could say nothing. Only what Moriarty told him. Sherlock’s eyes, his face, his voice. Moriarty’s voice. They had talked and taunted. John had tried to end it when he grabbed Moriarty and held him, but the sights were on Sherlock then. One tiny red dot on his forehead and another on his throat and another on his heart.

“John?”

He doesn’t even hear Sherlock’s voice on the mobile he now holds loosely in his hand, completely lost in the memory.

“No!” John shouts. “No, no!”

“John, where are you?”

“Moriarty! He’s here. I can’t stop it.”

“John, tell me where you are!”

“Pool. There’s a pool.”

The mobile slips from John’s fingers and clatters to the ground. He clutches at his stomach again, clamoring and clawing, wanting nothing more than to make the memory stop. He falls over on his side, folding his legs in. Tears drip from his eyes and run down his face as full-blown panic sets in. Moriarty’s voice is harsh and demanding in John’s ears, reminding him of everything he said and all he did, every gut-wrenching moment. Sherlock...no, Sherlock.

John vaguely hears a door crashing open somewhere behind. Someone runs toward his body as he lies trembling at the pool’s edge. The footsteps skid to a stop and he drops to his knees next to John. It is Sherlock. His Sherlock.

“Sherlock, no,” John mumbles into the damp air. He feels small and weak. “Sherlock, run.”

“It’s all right, John, I’m here. I have you,” his hands touch John gently, help him sit up. His deep, glorious voice fills John’s ears, driving away Moriarty and his memory. John opens his eyes and looks at his flatmate desperately. He reaches for the taller man and pulls him close, unable to speak. His heart is racing, his rapids breaths incredibly shallow.

“Just breathe. Go slowly,” Sherlock’s voice is soothing and his touch warm, comforting, the best thing John has ever felt. After a few minutes, John begins to regain control. “That’s it. Good, John, good.”

“I remember,” John gasps, “a pool.”

“Yes,” Sherlock nods, “I know. It’s all right.”

He gives John more time, as much as he needs. All the while Sherlock smooths his fingers over John’s hair and brushes fingertips on his tear-stained cheeks.

“John?” his voice is quiet and gentle, “can you stand? I called for a car. It will meet us at the door to the school.”

“What? We can’t leave Rosie!”

“Mycroft will take our place at the dance. She will stay the night with him,” Sherlock assures him. “She will be fine in his care.”

“Right. Uncle Mycroft,” John says, his breathing is almost normal now. “Okay, okay. I’m...I’m good.”

As John begins to rise slowly, Sherlock tucks his arm under John’s and wraps it around his back. He helps him to his feet and they walk carefully, deliberately until they reach the school’s outer door, the same one they entered only two hours earlier. One of Mycroft’s sleek black cars is already parked in the loading zone. The back door opens as they approach and Anthea climbs out.

“Good evening, Mr Holmes. Doctor,” she greets. “Your brother will be here shortly. I will be with Rosie for the interim. Do you need anything at the flat?”

“No,” Sherlock tells her as he helps John into the car. He turns to face her. “We’ll be fine. He needs to rest now.”

“Of course. Please don’t hesitate to call,” she nods.

“I will. Thank you,” Sherlock answers and climbs in. John isn’t sure why, but he has the odd feeling that things between Sherlock and Anthea have changed dramatically over the last five years. Something suddenly cracks and he knows they were never so friendly before. Is it Anthea? Is she the person in Sherlock’s life? John rests his forehead against the cool glass the window and watches London pass by without seeing a thing. A voice in his head says ‘Of course it’s Anthea. No doubt Mycroft asked her to help as often as anything else.’ while another tamps it down and John finds himself too exhausted to think.

@echosilverwolf @technicallywiseoncns @vvaticancameoss @cow-mow@philliphooper@whodwantmeasaflatmate@swissmissing@gloriascott93@kingdomofbrokenhearts@srebrnafh@thetranslucentwallaby@britishaccentfan@plasticstrawsmuggler@spazzz32@absentmindedsstuff@shuukichan @annecumberbatch@maeliandmyself@welcometomyharddrive

#Sherlock Holmes #Sherlock #sherlockholmes #sherlock fanfic #john watson #johnwatson #johnlock #Johnlock fanfic #hurt john #season 4 #S4 fix

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ecto-american · 5 years

Text

Bidding War

Challenger name: @fabnamessuggestedbytumbler

The Challenge: This year at Amity Park's yearly charity event, the committee has planned a "date auction" with the City's most eligible bachelors. Somehow, they even manage to rope Phantom in- after all, a celebrity like him is sure to win a fortune for the charities.

Rating: T

Pairings: Implied Danny/Sam, implied Danny/Dash, implied Danny/Paulina, implied Danny/Tucker

Word Count: 3259

Warnings: None

Other Notes: This is for the Phantom Phic Phight contest and I’m so sorry this is unedited NONSENSE I’m just tired of nitpicking at it my APOLOGIES to fabnames oaisfh

“Danny, this is a terrible idea.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. It’s just a charity bachelor auction,” he repeated himself for what felt like the millionth time. He was looking in the mirror at himself in his old room. The halfa glanced over at his sister, who was sitting on his old bed. Her hair was already styled very formally, make-up done and dressed in a nice dark teal dress. “Do you know anything about tying bow-ties?” Jazz sighed.

“No,” she admitted. Danny shrugged and put the bowtie into an inner pocket of the tux. “Danny, you’re going to get seriously hurt. I don’t think you should do this.”

“Come on, Jazz, even Sam’s on board,” he argued. He studied his reflection. Jazz had cut his hair for him a few days ago, so it looked presentable, and it was styled neatly. Snow white hair was contrasting the black tux, and in a sense, he looked as he usually did when in his Phantom form. “And Vlad’s already agreed to help take precautionary measures. I’m not afraid of ghosts, why would I be afraid of a few fans?”

“Can you really trust Vlad though?” Jazz wondered. She stood up, going over to stand with him in front of the mirror. The graduate student was now just an inch shorter than her brother. She leaned in to check her eyeliner.

“Vlad’s…different now, I think,” Danny said slowly as his mind raced back to the memories of the past few years. “But if nothing else, I doubt he’d want me to ruin his big Christmas charity event.”

“Just, be on your toes,” Jazz told him. “I’ll keep a thermos in my purse.” Danny patted his tux.

“I got one too,” he replied confidently. “Do you have your Fenton lipstick?” She nodded. Danny beamed at her.

“I’ll see you there then,” he said, taking a deep sigh.

The Christmas Charity Party that Vlad had hosted ever since his first mayoral election. Every year, there was a publicity stunt done to raise money for charity. Well, multiple. Every year there was a gingerbread decorating contest, snowball fights, the usual. But then there was always the big event. And this year…

“Mr. Phantom, it’s so fantastic to see you here!” Lance Thunder chirped, holding a microphone up as a camera crew filmed the party. Just like every year. Danny smiled politely at him. He had barely stepped foot in the door when the reporter began bulldozing through the crowds towards him. “May I ask what made you decide to participate in the auction?” He desperately held his mic out to Danny as he finally came within two feet of him.

“It felt like a great opportunity to participate in the charity event,” he explained. “So when Mayor Masters asked for volunteers, of course I signed up.”

“And your girlfriend doesn’t mind?” Lance questioned. The cameraman had properly caught up and was rolling, and Danny shifted uncomfortably.

“I don’t have a partner at this current time,” Danny replied.

“What do you expect your winning bid number to be?” Lance wondered. Danny shrugged his shoulders.

“I hate to sound full of myself, but I hope for the sake of this event that it’s high,” Danny picked his words carefully. “I’m really hoping that we can raise a lot of money tonight. I’m also hoping that everybody stays safe.” Fuck was he saying hope too much? Christ, Fenton. Lance nodded.

“Of course, with the bachelors available, our news team is expecting this to be the best year for this Christmas Charity event,” Lance replied. Danny raised an eyebrow and gave a small noise of pretend interest.

“I really hope so,” he replied. Use! A! Word! Other! Than! Hope! “Uh, I need to check in and get my auction number. Have a good evening, Mr. Thunder.” Danny extended his hand out for a friendly handshake, which Lance eagerly took. The reporter began to direct his attention to somebody else.

Danny began to wade through the crowd with surprisingly less stares than he was fearing. He made his way to a table with a sign announcing the bachelor sign in, and he smiled happily at a friendly face. Sam’s bored mood seemed to cheer up as she saw her friend, and she broke into a grin.

“Hey, Danny,” she chirped. Her elbows were on the table, head resting on the back of her hands as she held a pen in her hand. Danny felt his heart warm.

Sam was dressed up for the event in black and dark purple, hair that had grown so much since their freshman year of high school so long ago neatly braided. She had grown a lot actually. Even though they attended different schools, Danny always believed that it made them closer still. He cherished what time they spent together when both were home from college on holiday break, like now. He had yet to really even properly spend time with her since he had gotten home, and he felt a dull, annoyed ache over that.

“Hey, Sam,” he replied as he got to the table. He put his hands down on it, leaning casually. “Boring night already?” She snorted in amusement.

“Yeah, a bit, but once all the bachelors are checked in, I’m free to come hang out with you,” she told him. Danny felt eyes on him, and he glanced over his shoulder to see a familiar face looking at him. Dash was staring at him with awe. Sam glanced over at Dash too. “You already need rescuing?” she teased. Danny flushed.

“Nah, I’m good,” he replied. He turned his attention back to her.

“Maybe I’ll just buy you at the auction and save you a bunch of trouble,” Sam teased before giving a nervous giggle. Danny felt himself give out an awkward chortle as well, his cheeks flushing green. “Sign in, clueless,” Sam continued, handing him the pen.

Danny smiled as he took the pen and signed his name next to his printed one on the form, and he got a pin. Bachelor Number 42. Danny had begged Vlad to put him as 42 on the list specifically for the number.

“Thanks,” he replied, and he put the pin on. Sam stood up, leaning forward to help him pin it on. Once it was pinned, she lightly patted it.

“Looking fly,” she grinned.

Danny smiled, saluting her with two fingers as he began to back up.

“Sam?” he spoke, and she raised an eyebrow curiously. “We really should hang out later. I miss you.” She burned red, but nodded in agreement, making the motion that she’d call him later.

Danny turned and took a few steps before realizing Dash was still staring at him. Dash had changed a lot since high school, since Danny had last talked to him outside of Facebook. The ex-bully had even delivered a proper apology that Danny never expected or believed he’d get. They weren’t really friends, but they were more friendly. Dash had become more friendly and nicer. Better to be around. They talked on and off on Facebook about the Packers.

Danny found himself giving an awkward wave before feeling an excited yet anxious stomach turn when the other took that as an invitation. He quickly came over to the halfa.

“Danny Phantom!” he quietly exclaimed, happily holding his hand out. Danny smiled, taking his hand. Dash gripped it tightly, his other hand happily clasping on his upper arm. “Dude! I can’t believe you’re in the auction! I’m totally bidding on you!” Danny’s eyes widened a bit in surprise. Somebody was super eager to bid on him? Already? And it was Dash?

“Oh, awesome!” Danny replied happily, gripping the handshake in return. He didn’t really feel uncomfortable by the touching. Dash was always super friendly to him, and it was...oddly nice to be around people who didn’t want to punch him. “I look forward to seeing if you win.” Dash beamed, and Danny smiled back.

“I can’t wait to go flying with you and have dinner!” What? Oh, right. The date Danny had promised on his application was going for a flight and having dinner. In that specific order. He had learned from Tucker to do that specific order to avoid having to make a trash can pit stop to throw up.

“Yeah, that’s what the app says, but we can always make adjustments if that’s too mushy,” Danny promised. Dash’s cheeks flushed a bit red, and he finally let go of Danny’s hand.

“Uh, actually,” he began, and Danny felt this odd spark of hope he hadn’t expected begin to flow through him. “I’m...I kinda like both. So I wouldn’t mind a date.” Dash quickly added, “But like, if that’s too weird for you, I-I-”

“Dude, it’s chill,” Danny held a hand up to stop him. “I swing both ways too. Lots of people do. Truth is, I don’t really care if I end up with a girl or a boy winning me. It’s all for charity.” Dash exhaled an intense sigh of relief.

“Cool,” Dash replied. “Because you’re just so cool, and I wanna get to hang out with you more, and I just,” the ex-bully began to ramble, and Danny patiently listened for a few moments. Dash soon stopped himself, and he flustered more. “Sorry for all that. I’m just excited. I’m actually getting auctioned off too.”

Danny glanced and noticed that, indeed, Dash had a bachelor pin on his tux jacket. Number 58.

“Oh dude, that’s great,” Danny spoke lightly. “If I had money, I’d def bid on you.” The words left his mouth before he could really process his own thoughts, and he was left lightly flushing green. Dash was staring at him in an awed, but excited, shock.

“Really?” he asked. Danny nodded, and he remembered a piece of advice Vlad had given him. Mingle as much as possible during the auction, to both help Phantom’s image by interacting with his fans, but to encourage people to bid on him. Vlad’s advice, only when it came to public image, had...annoyingly, failed to let Danny down yet, and so he cleared his throat a bit awkwardly.

“I need to go and socialize more,” he told him. “But it was great seeing you.” Dash was in a seemingly stunned silence, and he nodded as Danny quickly made his exit.

No sooner than he took a few steps that a familiar voice called out to him.

“Ghost boy!”

Danny turned to see Paulina eagerly going up to him, and despite being Phantom, he could feel Fenton’s heart skip. She looked beautiful, in a dress that complimented her perfectly with finely done make-up and hair mostly up. She smiled a dazzling smile at him, and he instantly felt weak.

“Hey Paulina,” he greeted her eagerly, and her eyes seemingly sparkled in excitement.

“You remembered me!” she said happily, and she clutched her hands together at her chest.

“Of course, I could never forget my biggest fan,” he replied. She stared at him for a moment before giving a light frown.

“Where’s your bow-tie?” she asked, pointing to his shirt. Danny flushed, putting his hand to his throat.

“Oh, I didn’t know how to tie one,” he admitted. Paulina hummed.

“Do you have it with you? I can tie it for you,” she offered.

“Oh, yeah!” Danny immediately began to pat himself down as he tried to remember which pocket his bow-tie was in. He soon produced it, and he handed it to her. She gestured for him to lean over a bit, and he did. She slipped the bow-tie around his neck and began to expertly tie it with practiced ease. “How have you been?”

“Great!” she replied warmly. “I’m on the dean’s list at my school, and I’m on track to graduate a semester early. How have you been?” He had forgotten that she too had gone to college. For chemistry, of all things. Danny had always been on Sam’s side in assuming that she did terribly in high school. Apparently, that’s just what she wanted her classmates to think.

“Good,” he gave the social answer. Truthfully, it really wasn’t, but when had his life ever been such a way? Not since the accident. He accidentally locked eyes with Paulina. She looked unusually serious.

“Danny, how have you been?” she asked, her voice more gentle about it. Danny felt a bit of a mental whiplash. She rarely called him Danny, and his voice got caught in his throat. He coughed awkwardly.

“It’s...been a bit rough,” he said slowly. She nodded understandingly. She finished tying the bowtie, and she carefully pressed his collar.

“You’ll get through it like you always do,” she told him confidently. “I believe in you. I always have, and I always will.” Danny felt his cheeks turn green as he stood up straight. This was going to be a trend, it seemed.

“Thank you,” he told her. “I hope you can graduate soon. I miss seeing you around Amity Park,” he told her honestly. Paulina laughed.

“I keep up with you on the news,” she confessed. “And I’ll be seeing you when I win the auction.” Danny nodded. A date with Paulina sounded magical, he couldn’t lie.

“I look forward to it if that’s the case,” he replied. He remembered what Vlad had told him. Socialize, and he reluctantly continued, “I’ll let you mingle with others. I hope to see you again soon.” Paulina nodded understandingly.

“I’ll see you at our date, Danny!” she replied confidently.

“Dude, you’re on fire.”

Finally, a voice he actually really wanted to hear. Tucker had found him, and he looked great in his tux. Instead of a white shirt, he had opted for a dark orange shirt underneath. It suited him perfectly.

“Hey!” Danny eagerly greeted him, and the two immediately fist bumped happily. “You look great! You should have signed up to be a bachelor.” Tucker chuckled, shrugging.

“Yeah, I regret it, but I was dating Mia at the time,” he reminded his friend. “She wouldn’t have been cool with it. In hindsight, probably a sign.” Danny just shrugged sympathetically.

“I’m just glad you’re here,” Danny told him. “I already ran into Sam, Dash, Paulina, and damn. That’s not even counting Lance Thunder. I know Harriet Chin’s around somewhere too.” Tucker gave a low whistle.

“Damn, that’s quite the roster,” he said.

“Honestly, it wasn’t so bad. Especially since I know there’s friendly faces like you here,” Danny commented. Tucker chuckled.

“Do I need to bid on you to free you from your torment?” Tucker teased. Danny laughed.

“I already joked to Sam that she should, but man, we’d probably have a lot of fun,” Danny admitted. Tucker snickered.

“Wait until my birthday so you can truly wine and dine me,” he joked. Danny felt his cheeks flush a bit, but he laughed again.

“Like how last Valentine’s day we just made ourselves each other’s Valentine’s?” Danny questioned. Tucker nodded eagerly.

“Yeah, and instead of going out to eat sushi like we planned, we ordered Domino’s and did nothing but play DOOMED and get sick on bread bites.”

“Dude, I’d rather do that with you than go out on a date anytime,” Danny told him. Tucker flushed a bit in return.

“Same,” he agreed. “I love hanging out with you more than I ever did Mia.” Danny made a noise of agreement.

“Yeah! And same with you, honestly!” he chattered on excitedly. “Dude, just buy me! They’re giving me a free food coupon, so we can just buy a bunch of pizza again and pig out!”

“Dude, I can make you take me out for free, but I’ll place my bets and see how I fare,” Tucker assured him. He lightly punched his shoulder playfully. “I’ll leave you to socialize. I’m gonna go see how Sam’s surviving.”

“Catch up with me later! I really wanna hang out with you!” Danny called out after him as Tucker passed him. Tucker flashed a peace sign in response, and Danny exhaled deeply.

People were so exhausting. How could Vlad do this all the time? Danny decided to just break for some food. His eyes scanned over the options as he approached. The buffet style options had a wide range of options, from fancy looking shrimp to chicken to salads. He picked up a plate and began to serve himself some food. It was time to take advantage of all the free food.

He picked up a few pieces of food, setting it on his plate. He grabbed a drink and settled into a chair to eat. There were so many people here. He only talked to those few, but people...really wanted their chance it seemed. And it made him feel terrible for only really wanting to be with one of them. He couldn’t help it. He truly hoped that they won.

The poor halfa didn’t even get to take a bite when he was distracted by a voice, but he didn’t mind. He flashed a happy smile to the one that was already on his mind, who stood before him with their own plate of food.

“Can I join you?”

“Of course.”

Danny stood before the crowd, trying to look cheerful and confident but it was very obvious that he was anxious and nervous. He could only pray that he could mask at least part of it. Vlad lightly patted Danny’s back encouragingly, and it oddly helped ease his anxiety. The billionaire was standing on the makeshift stage, mic in hand and a stapled packet of papers in the other with the bachelor’s information on it.

“Ladies and gentleman, this is Danny Phantom,” Vlad spoke, and he began to read from his paper. “He stands at 6’3’’, and he considers himself nerdy. He’s very interested in science, specifically astrophysics and engineering. In his spare time, when he’s not fighting ghosts, he enjoys playing video games, science fiction movies and astronomy. For your date with Danny Phantom, he has promised a one of a kind dating experience in a flight through town before you two have a nice dinner at the restaurant of your choice!”

The crowd was murmuring excitedly, and Danny felt a nervous bead of sweat begin to form. This was the most information Amity Park had ever really been given about him, and he could see Lance in the corner, taking intense notes. Other people seemed surprised at the listed hobbies of choice and interests.

“So, as part of tonight’s charity auction and due to Mr. Phantom’s popularity, I propose we begin the auction a little higher than normal, at $100,” Vlad said, and no sooner than he spoke, every hand in the audience shot up. Danny’s throat tightened.

“Oh, it looks like it’s going to be quite the contest,” Vlad lightly teased, and Danny glared at him briefly. “Do I hear $150?”

The entire bidding was a rapid blur. Danny’s head shot around as the bidding war went crazier than he could ever imagine. He began to space out.

“Anybody higher?” Vlad asked for the billionth time it seemed. “No? Going once.” Danny’s attention snapped back to reality as he scanned to see who was on the verge of winning him. “Going twice.” Danny’s chest tightened anxiously. “And sold to bidder number 113!”

Danny locked eyes with the winner, and they exchanged smiles. To his relief and joy, the person who won him was the one he had been wanting more than any other all night.

#danny phantom #jazz fenton #sam manson #dash baxter #paulina sanchez #tucker foley #chose your own ship adventure lmao #phics #my phics

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