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rkived · 3 years

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━ CHASING PAVEMENTS 04 │ JJK

↳ PAIRING: dad!jk/married!jk/bff!jk x reader

↳ GENRE/TAGS: f2l, angst, unrequited feelings, cheating, future smut

↳ WARNINGS: (for this chapter) angst as per usual what’s new, jk is sad, reader is sad, sunhi is sad, everyone’s just SAD

↳ RATING: (for this chapter) PG

↳ WORD COUNT: 4k

↳ SYNOPSIS: Jungkook’s been feeling a little weird lately. Maybe it’s got something to do with his crumbling marriage and the way you seem to care for his daughter more than his own wife.

↳ A/N: ehem let’s pretend like i didn’t ghost this story for like half a year aha i’ve written more than this for cp but i decided to just divide it and leave the juicy stuff for the last chapter !! sorry for making u wait so long </3 anyway hope u enjoy still n i’ll see u in a couple months for the final chapter of cp!! (i’m jking…..or am i?)

01 02 03 04 05 (coming soon)

Minji thinks you’re starting to get better.

Well, she hopes you are because it’s been two months since you broke the news on her and anyone would think that’d it be long forgotten by now. She tries to stop as often as she can to check up on you, even though you assure her that you’re fine and that a simple text would suffice instead of having her come over every day in between.

Which is why she’s unsure if giving you the invitation Jungkook had handed her about two weeks ago was a good idea, considering that it’s been a few days since you had last even mentioned him to her like you usually did before. In fact, today you look like you’re at peace for the very first time.

‘‘I did yoga!’’ You explain when she mentions that you look different, ‘‘I still can’t face going back to Namjoon’s class, but I remember a ton of positions he taught us!’’

Minji has to force herself to smile, her hand lingers inside the purse she’s carrying as her fingers fiddle with the cardstock paper waiting patiently to be handed.

‘‘And then I stopped for some yogurt at the place down the─’’

‘‘I need to give this to you,’’ Minji stops your ramble and you’re taken aback by how urgent her voice sounds, very unlike her. ‘‘I promised I’d get this to you, so…’’

You’re about to ask her what she’s on about when she abruptly hands what you could make out to be a colorful piece of paper. Your eyebrows furrowed at the sight, completely confused until it suddenly hit you what it is that your friend’s talking about.

‘‘How did you─?’’

Minji gives you half a smile and shakes her hand so you can take the card instead of just staring at it, ‘‘Just─take it.’’

Your hand reaches out to grab it from her and your eyes quickly focus on the unicorn and sparkles themed birthday invite. It reads that it’s Sunhi’s birthday and that you are invited! You recognize the handwriting that filled the party’s information details, you always thought he had really nice penmanship.

‘‘I think you should go,’’ Minji’s voice sounds like she’s faraway, but she’s just a few feet away from you, ‘‘for Sunhi.’’

You’re still staring at the invitation, memorizing every single detail. There’s so many unicorns, when did she start liking the mythical creature? She had never mentioned a liking towards them to you ever. You assume it must’ve happened during these few months of your absence.

How many moments have you missed? How many unanswered questions must Sunhi have by now? How many new toys has she had to wait to show you? How many kindergarten stories has she been saving to tell you?

You’ve been counting. Sixty days have passed since you last saw Sunhi. It’s been seven Fridays since you last had her in your arms.

Sixty days and seven Fridays since you kissed Jungkook. Fifty-nine days since you blocked him.

Minji is still waiting for any sort of reaction from you. You’re stoically analyzing the piece of paper and she wonders what is it that you’re thinking or feeling. Is it good, bad or all in one? Whatever it is, her small deed is done.

‘‘Y/N?’’ She calls out, you slowly nod and take your eyes from the invitation from the first time since she gave it to you. ‘‘Do you mind if I go? I have some stuff to─’’

A small gasp escapes your lips, ‘‘Yes Minji, of course!’’ Your friend smiles slightly and you proceed to escort her out your apartment. She actually doesn’t have anything to do, but she thinks it’s best if you get some space to take everything in.

Minji notices how you’re still holding on to the birthday invite and she has to suppress a chuckle because she knows you’re most likely doing this absentmindedly.

Before you’re able to thank her for coming, she stops you to say one last thing. ‘‘If you don’t want to go, then don’t,’’ she begins and your eyebrows raise at your friend’s comment. ‘‘Whatever it is that you decide on doing, I’ll support you either way,’’ Minji offers you a genuine smile and you can’t help but hug her tightly.

You’re alone again. Loneliness has come in waves as of lately. You’ve lived alone for years now, you’re used to being the only person present in your apartment ─ but that fact hasn’t felt more obvious than since you shunned Jungkook out.

Good days eventually turn sour. The times where it seems like you can go on about your life without thinking about him and what he might be up to quickly change because your mind makes you feel bad about feeling good.

Why did you cut him off knowing his daughter idolizes you like no other? Why did you selfishly decide to block him when you could’ve just talked it out? Why didn’t you stop him that night if you knew things would change between you two? Why did you let him kiss you knowing it was going to hurt in the end?

You know Sunhi’s fourth birthday is coming up. It’s one of those dates you can’t simply forget, it comes naturally to you. You had settled with the idea that you weren’t going to be invited this time around, it would’ve been okay since you think it’s what you deserve anyway. If Jungkook had taken you off the guest list, he was in his total right to do so.

You want to be mad at him right now.

Why would he invite you? Why couldn’t he just leave things the way they were? You wish you were angry, but you’re not. You feel slightly comforted with the fact that he had decided to include you even with everything that went down. In fact, not inviting you would’ve been selfish knowing that Sunhi must want you there.

And if the invitation wasn’t enough of a sign that you should go, two days ago you got an email that the gift you had preordered for Sunhi some time ago was on its way to your place. Just in time for her birthday party.

That’s life for you.

You’re quick to remind yourself of Minji’s last words to you. You’re not obligated to go and if you don’t want to, then you don’t have to. But you’d be lying if you said that because you really want to go, but there’s still some things that are holding you back. Your brain starts breaking down the pros and cons of going.

The pros: You’d get to see Sunhi again, who you missed terribly and a tiny part of you was wishing that she didn’t hate you for suddenly leaving. It’s too much to ask for, but you do hope that Jungkook had come up with something instead of telling her upfront that you had left.

The cons: You’d have to see Jungkook. Having to face the awkwardness of knowing you had blocked his number, prohibiting him from contacting you and discussing what happened like adults would do.

Oh, and you’d see Jiwoo too and pretend like you didn’t have any romantic feelings for her husband.

Whatever decision it is, you’d only have two days to decide.

Jungkook smiled warmly as he looked at Sunhi twirling in her green and purple dress in front of the long length mirror in his bedroom. Ever since he got the garment in the mail, he had to hide it from her curious hands because if it were up to her she’d be wearing it day and night.

‘‘Daddy, I look so cute!’’ Sunhi said with an excited tone, hopping in her place. The tull of her skirt followed her movements, making the glittery details sparkle brightly caused by the natural sunlight slipping through the curtain cracks.

He chuckled, ‘‘You do, Pumpkin, but you need to settle down.’’ Jungkook placed his hands on her tiny shoulders, making his daughter’s bouncing cease. ‘‘You gotta be fully energized for the party, alright?’’ She nodded quickly, but he could still feel the excitement radiate from her.

‘‘Gramma will do my braid, daddy.’’ Sunhi let him know once she noticed her father take a brush in his hand. The little girl much rather have her hair tangled in knots than having him attempt to do any sort of hairstyles on her.

Jungkook pouts, but nods understanding. He’s thankful that his parents had made the trip from Busan this year. He knows his mother knew he would have a hard time setting everything up by himself this time around. His parents would normally miss Sunhi’s parties due to the distance, but he’d make it up to them by visiting the following weekend and doing a smaller gathering at their house instead.

Things feel different. One could say that this time, everything is exactly where it should be. Sunhi’s growing older, his parents are here and not far away like usual, Jiwoo’s no longer in the picture, he’s picking back up the things that used to make him happy. There’s just a missing piece that doesn’t allow him to declare the puzzle’s finished.

And his daughter hasn’t really been helpful in allowing him to forget about it either.

‘‘Daddy, is Auntie Y/N going to come?’’ She asked for what seemed the thousandth time that week alone. The younger girl only wanted to make sure you’re coming even though her father had reassured her that you might be making an appearance.

Jungkook hummed, pursing his lips together, ‘‘Well, I don’t know if Auntie Y/N will manage to catch her flight in time for your party, but hopefully she’ll come,’’ he painfully lied and Sunhi nodded with a pout, she was hoping she’d get a different answer this time around, but still settles with her father’s explanation.

Ever since you left, it had been part of her daily routine to ask about you and your whereabouts. Jungkook hated lying to his daughter, but he knew that even if he were to explain the ending of your friendship, she wouldn’t be able to understand. He had foolishly hoped that after telling her, repeatedly, that you had been out of the country because of your job, Sunhi would get the clue that you showing up at her birthday party was very unlikely.

He can’t blame her because he’s also been hoping that you’ll show up for whatever reason. Jungkook’s aware that Minji had made no promises of you attending, but that little bit of faith he still had, clung onto you tightly.

He’s let go of so many things recently, but he refuses to add you to that painful list.

‘‘I miss Auntie Y/N,’’ Sunhi mumbled to herself, but Jungkook heard her clearly and his heart shattered at the longing in his daughter’s voice.

That’s why he’s relieved that she’s now running around the yard with her friends from the kindergarten she attends, screaming in glee as they all chase each other around the grass. The PinkFong playlist he had put together earlier that week has been a hit with the children, who danced and sang along to the lyrics; although some parents might’ve gotten tired of hearing the infantile music after a while. Jungkook himself is part of the people who much rather listen to something else, but it’s worth it if it means he catches Sunhi humming along to the tunes every once in a while.

Having to entertain the parents has taken his mind off of knowing you’re not there. The party started two hours ago and you’re never late for anything, especially his daughter’s birthday celebrations. He’s settling with the idea that you’re no longer coming while he dabbles in serving food and refilling drinks, all the while having to make conversation with the parents of the invited kids.

He can feel just how bad they feel for him, the word’s gotten around the PTA committee that he’s in the process of divorcing while taking full custody of his daughter.

‘‘Jungkook, how are you doing?’’ One of the invited moms asked him with a tactful tone, accompanied by a gentle smile that made him feel like a child for a mere moment. With a smile that could put anyone’s worries at ease, Jungkook assured her ─and the rest of the worrying mothers─ that he was doing just fine.

It’s Sunhi’s day, it’s her party, a few more hours and you can cry all about it when she’s sleeping, had become his mantra as the party goes on.

‘‘What’s with the long face?’’ His mother suddenly asks him after he finishes placing the candles on Sunhi’s unicorn themed cake.

Jungkook furrows his brows, ‘‘The unicorn’s face looks pretty alright to me,’’ he comments looking at the fondant shaped mythical creature at the top of the cake.

Mrs. Jeon rolls her eyes, shaking her head slightly at his son’s obliviousness, ‘‘I’m talking about your long face. Is everything alright?’’ She asks in genuine concern, making him sigh as he scratches the back of his neck. ‘‘It’s not because of Jiwoo, right?’’ The woman cautiously asks, afraid the mention of her son’s ex partner might be too sensitive.

The news of the divorce had surprised his parents, but they weren’t completely heartbroken about it. They had known her for years, but it had never been a close relationship at that. His mother had made a couple of comments here and there before concerning his ex partner’s behavior, but were always overlooked by Jungkook.

Jungkook’s eyebrows raise in surprise and he quickly shakes his head no, ‘‘I’m fine, mom. I’m just kinda tired.’’

For someone who hates lying, he’s been doing it a lot recently.

His mother doesn’t seem so sure about his answer, but decides not to interrogate him any further since she knows her son has been dealing with too much recently and she didn’t want to add her nagging to the list.

Eventually the party guests all sing happy birthday to Sunhi as she sits behind her cake clapping alongside them, mumbling the famous song as she waits for everyone to finish so she can blow the four candles out and make a wish. She closes her eyes with force, putting her hands together as the guests watch her silently mouth words out.

‘‘What did you wish for, Sunhi?’’ One of the kids excitedly asks her, fingers curling around her arm as he waits for her to answer.

Sunhi hmphs and turns her face away from him, ‘‘If I say it out loud it won’t come true!’’

Jungkook can only hope his daughter had asked for something he’s able to buy. The newest Barbie doll, a trip to the zoo, that pretty tutu she saw at the store. Anything that is at arm’s reach from him to give her. But Jungkook knows his daughter all too well, those things don’t really matter to her right now.

Sunhi’s wish is something he can’t obtain ─ someone that’s no longer a call away from him. His daughter doesn’t know, but he’s wished for the same thing too.

You to come back.

The small pieces of confetti on the ground, paper decorations pasted on the wall and hanging from the ceiling of the house are enough to give away that a party had happened the day before, and that someone had been too tired by the end of it to even attempt to clean up.

Even the thought of having to deal with all of the mess that his living room currently looks like is already making Jungkook regret not accepting his mother’s willingness to help after the party had ended yesterday, assuring her that she had done enough that day and that it was only fair he took care of the cleaning.

Sunhi’s birthday had gone smoothly for the most part.

And as Jungkook scrolls through his phone’s gallery, smiling warmly at the small clips he managed to capture of his gleeful daughter running around the yard with her friends and the multitude of pictures his mother took of her blowing the candles of the cake out, granted, majority of them blurry, he is reminded that, although the party had been a success, the aftermath hadn’t been as pretty.

The party was over when he started hearing the first goodbyes and thankful comments of the parents for inviting them over, wishing Sunhi a final happy birthday before they took their sleepy kids in their arms. He had hoped his daughter would be drained too, despite the amount of sugar she had a few hours before.

‘‘Auntie Y/N didn’t come.’’ Sunhi had stated, a pout on her trembling lips as she looked up at her tired father. ‘‘Why didn’t she come?’’ She asked in genuine curiosity as her eyes started glossing with tears.

Jungkook sighed, ‘‘Pumpkin, I told you she’s not in town. I’m sorry she─’’ It didn’t matter what excuse he had given her, the waterworks had begun. He hadn’t seen his daughter cry like that in a long time and for a moment, he didn’t know what to do to get her to stop.

Even if he tried to coax her with distractions, like the number of gifts she had received from the guests or telling her he’d let her have another slice of cake if she stopped crying. He knew that what his daughter wanted wasn’t toys or food. She wanted you. And as much as Jungkook wants you just as much, he’s lost on ways to make you come back.

Sunhi cried for what seemed like hours, his parents had even tried to cheer the little girl up by promising to take her to their house the very next morning for the rest of the weekend, to which she merely nodded as she fell asleep from exhaustion on her father’s chest.

He envied her as he remained awake for most of the night, tears streaming down his face as guilt ate him away for his daughter’s heartbreak.

It’s his fault after all.

Jungkook isn’t upset you didn’t show up, you didn’t have to. Not even Sunhi could make you come back. Selfishly kissing you that night had changed the course of your relationship forever and that meant that his daughter would have to pay for his wrongdoings.

With the absence of Sunhi, he’s reminded of just how big his house feels when he’s by himself. Ever since Jiwoo moved out, the only company he’s had is that of his daughter and it’s more than enough. With her dancing around the hallways and singing songs to the top of her lungs, Jungkook doesn’t feel as lonely.

He must’ve missed the knocking at the door or the ringing doorbell ─if there even was one─ because of the earphones he had on while he swept the confetti paper scattered on the hardwood floor of his home because by the time he opens his door to get a run around the neighborhood, he notices there’s a gift placed in his front doorstep.

Jungkook’s brows furrow with confusion, unsure of why it was there in the first place. He’s sure Sunhi had opened all of her gifts last night, lazily and not very excited about them after her big cry, but she had made sure to leave them all unwrapped.

The medium-sized box is wrapped with a white and pink polka-dot paper, a cute golden ribbon placed right in the middle of it. Jungkook picks it up, bringing it closer for better inspection. Maybe it was from one of the kids that couldn’t make it? Although, they could’ve just gave it to Sunhi when they saw her at school again.

His eyes widen and his heartbeat races up when he reads the sticker tag with the name of the person responsible for the gift.

‘‘To: Sunhi ♡

From: Auntie Y/N’’

His eyes scan the tag over and over again, just to make sure he’s reading the name correctly. When he manages to take his attention away from it, he looks around the street in hopes that he’d find you.

How long has this been out here? Could he have caught a glimpse of you had he been less distracted?

Although it feels wrong to open his daughter’s gift without her consent, he feels the urgent need to peek at what’s inside. His mind even tries to reason with himself, telling him it’s probably only a doll or a clothing item, like the other gifts Sunhi had received from the birthday guests yesterday.

With a click of his tongue, he forgoes doing the right thing and tells himself that he’ll just wrap the gift again before Sunhi comes back from his parent’s house.

The cute wrapping paper is thrown over his shoulder carelessly as he quickly unveils a white cardboard box, tilting his head slightly at what could possibly be inside. When he takes the top off, a soft gasp escapes his lips.

A pink and white digital camera aimed for children lies inside, there’s decorative paper placed around it and a note inside. Jungkook swallows the lump in his throat, taking it delicately in his hand as he reads the words written in the familiar handwriting that hasn’t changed from all those years back in college.

‘‘Happy 4th birthday, Sunhi! Since you’re growing older, I wanted to gift you something different this year around. Your daddy loves taking videos and I thought you should start doing it too, maybe he’ll pick his camera back up again haha. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to see you blow your candles out, I hope all your wishes come true! I love you and miss you so much,

-Auntie Y/N’’

Jungkook blinks back the tears that had formed in the corners of his eyes. He places the note back inside the box and breathes in deeply, exhaling slowly as he stares at the gift. No one but you could come up with an idea like this. It hurts him, but he smiles slightly at your thoughtfulness.

A different feeling arises inside him as he holds the gift in his hand, looking at it like this is the sign he had been sent from above. The last thread of his string of faith. He doesn’t even think twice, placing the gift gently inside and rushing to step outside to close the door.

He’ll go on that run, just not around his neighborhood.

As he runs past rows of houses and stores, the voice inside his head tries to tell him that he should think rationally. There’s a reason why you didn’t show up yesterday and another for you dropping the gift in front of his house without a sound. You don’t want to see him and yet he’s running straight towards you even if he knows this is hopeless.

He manages to shut that voice off as he maintains his rapid pace, rushing past the rows of buildings he’s familiar with and the street names he’s memorized by now. It all feels so different when he’s not behind the wheel, he usually always has to depend on his GPS to help him reach places. Your address, though, is one he proudly knows by heart.

As Jungkook stands outside your apartment building, he stares at it with the sound of his heart drumming inside his ears. Catching his breath, he’s reminded of the many times these past few months he’s been here, with Sunhi fast asleep in her car seat at the back.

He always pictured going up, knocking at your door, and begging for forgiveness, all for you to turn him down in the end with a gut-wrenching I don’t want you in my life anymore and a door closing on his face. That’s why he always drove away, deciding that uncertainty is better than hearing you reject him.

This time, though, nervous and unsure as he usually is when he comes here, Jungkook breathes in deep and ignores the familiar knot formed inside his stomach.

He decides that uncertainty isn’t a feeling he wishes upon you.

#heartsforbts #bangtanhq #btswritingcafe #btswriterscollective #btsghostie #jungkook fic #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook scenario #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine

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drabbles-mc · 3 years

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Passing Through

Bishop Losa x F!Reader

Request by @masterlistforimagines: Okay so reader is passing through Santo Padre for some reason. Her car breaks down, and Bish is her mechanic. I’m thinking like super cute and flirty Bish

Warnings: language, alcohol, Bish being a flirt with a capital F

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: I feel like I always let myself get carried away with requests from you. Like they almost always take on a life of their own once I start writing them. Thank you for loving me and continuing to send them to me regardless lmao. We get a few of our other MC boys in this fic too. Hope y’all enjoy! xo

Join my group-chat here: (X)

Bishop Losa Taglist: @sincerelyasomebody @sadeyesgf @thesandbeneathmytoes @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @multiyfandomgirl40 @sillygoose6969 @queenbeered @louisianalady @gemini0410 @paintballkid711 @sesamepancakes @chibsytelford @yourwonkywriter @arveeee @mayans-sauce @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @plentyoffandoms @georgiaaintnopeach @twistnet @themoonandthewicked @garbinge @bucky-iss-bae @encounterthepast @everyhowlmarksthedead @rosieposie0624 @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo @mijop @xladymacbethx @blessedboo @holl2712 @lakamaa12 @kkim120 @toni9 @shadow-of-wonder (If you want to be tagged in fics for Bish or any of my other writing let me know and I’ll add you to the taglist!)

You’d been driving for practically 2 days straight. It was your own doing—you wanted to go all up and down the coast while you had the opportunity. You didn’t know the next time you would get a few weeks off. However, the first leg of your journey you took your sweet time and didn’t really plan things out, which left you in the tiniest bit of a time-crunch as things were coming to a close. It was impressive that your car had made it this far to begin with. It wasn’t exactly new, but it had always gotten the job done. You knew that this was a big ask, though, and the universe was finally coming to collect.

You sat on the hood, soaking up the sun while you waited for the tow truck to get there. Music was playing from the speaker of your phone as you recounted all of the adventures that you had had so far. If it hadn’t been such a good trip already, this mishap would’ve been far more upsetting. You were in too good of a headspace to be upset, though. Whatever the deal was with your car, you’d figure it out one way or another.

When you saw the tow truck approaching, you shut the music off and hopped down off the hood of your car. You stretched out, trying to gear yourself up for whatever the next leg of your journey was going to be. The truck parked in front of your car and one man hopped out of each side of the vehicle. You bit back a laugh at how different the two of them seemed.

“Are you Y/N?” one man approached you with a clipboard.

You took note of his hands but expressly tried not to stare. Besides, the smile he greeted you with was contagious it was difficult to focus on much else as you nodded, “Sure hope so. Otherwise someone else out there is having just as bad of luck as me.”

He nodded as he handed you the clipboard, “Just need you to fill out this form here for me, Miss.”

You smiled as you took the clipboard and pen from him, “I think I can handle that,” you continued to speak to him as you filled out the paperwork, “What’s your name?”

“Chucky.”

Your eyes flicked up from the paper as you smiled at him, “Nice to meet you, Chucky,” you nodded towards the man who was in the middle of hooking your car up to the tow truck, “Who’s your friend over there?”

“The one and only Johnny ‘Coco’ Cruz.”

You laughed, “One and only, huh?” you handed the clipboard back to him, “Seems like you might know a lot of people who are one-of-a-kind.”

The drive back to the mechanic shop was much more comfortable than you thought it was going to be. Chucky never seemed to run out of things to talk about, which was refreshing. Coco was quiet for most of the ride, chiming in here and there but staying silent for the most part as Chucky drove. The two of them made you wonder what the rest of the people were like at the shop they were taking you to.

When you rolled into the lot, Chucky hopped out and motioned for you to do the same while Coco set about getting your car off the tow truck and into the shop. Part of you wanted to watch it all happen, but Chucky needed you to fill out the rest of the paperwork and answer a few more questions. When he asked you about a rental, you asked if you could see what the damage was on your car before answering that.

You walked over to where your car was being worked on. From the angle you were standing at, you couldn’t see exactly who it was that was working on your car. It was just a pair of legs sticking out from underneath your vehicle. You found a stool to sit on while you waited for whoever it was to resurface so you could ask what exactly was going on and if you were going to need to find a new car to get back home in.

After a few minutes, they rolled back out. He sat up, eyes immediately locking onto yours. You smiled, eyebrows raising slightly as you took in the sight of him. He wiped his hands off on the rag tucked in the pocket of his jeans.

“She yours?” he nodded towards the car.

You sighed, “Depends on what you’re about to tell me.”

He chuckled as he shook his head, “Nothing that we can’t fix.”

“Is it gonna cost me an arm and a leg?”

“It shouldn’t, no,” he stood up, leaning back against your car, “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

The simple pet name shouldn’t have made your face feel hot, but it did, “It’s Y/N. But you can keep calling me sweetheart if you like,” you paused, “You?”

He laughed at your response before holding out his hand, “Bishop.”

“Nice to meet you, Bishop,” it was hard to take your eyes off of his lips and beard. You shook your head to dispel the thoughts, “So, what exactly is wrong with my car? And can you fix it in the cheapest way possible? I just gotta make it back home.”

He smiled at you, “Back home?”

You nodded, “Yea. Had a couple weeks off between jobs and decided to take advantage of it. Probably should’ve used that time to go car shopping though, huh?”

He chuckled, “Maybe.”

You listened as he outlined what was wrong with your car and how he planned to fix it. You were focusing on what he was saying for the most part, but it was easy to get distracted as you watched the way the muscles in his shoulders and arms flexed as he moved and shifted. You were practically salivating by the time that he finished talking.

“You got all that, sweetheart?” he asked with a laugh, knowing that you had definitely tuned out at a few different points as he spoke.

“I got the important parts,” you said, not trying to deny that you let your mind wander.

“How long are you in town for?” he asked, a curious glint in his eyes.

“At least until you fix my car,” you laughed.

“Maybe I should take my time then.”

You smiled, crossing your arms over your chest, “I don’t know how professional that would be of you, Bishop.”

“First you want me to call you sweetheart, and now you want me to be professional?” he laughed, eyes crinkling at the edges, “You’ve gotta pick one or the other.”

You smiled, nodding, “Fair enough,” you paused, “How about this?” you saw the curiosity written all over his face as you continued, “I’ll budget an extra night or two in Santo Padre into my plans, that way you don’t gotta drag out fixing my car. Besides,” you smiled, “I can’t afford to pay for three days’ worth of labor.”

He smiled and nodded, “Alright. That sounds fair. In that case I could have you up and running by tonight.”

“Just in time for you to take me out for a drink?”

He smiled, “Yea. But I wouldn’t make you take your car for that.”

“Oh? You wouldn’t?”

He shook his head as he gestured towards the row of motorcycles, “I’ll take you out on the town in style.”

You laughed, “Can’t wait,” you stood up off the stool, “I guess I’ll let you get to work then. I know I can be a bit distracting.”

“You’re a welcome distraction,” he nodded towards the building behind you, “If you wanna get outta the heat you can go wait in the clubhouse. My guys will take care of you.”

“Wow,” you tucked your hands into your pockets, “feel like I’m getting the royal treatment.”

He smiled, “Because you are,” he walked over to his toolbox and started taking a few things out, “I’ll come and get you when I’m done.”

You made your way over to the clubhouse. You glanced back over your shoulder and saw Bishop standing there, watching you walk away. You couldn’t help but to flash him a smile as you continued to make your way away from him.

When you pushed open the door to the clubhouse, suddenly everything began to make a lot more sense. You saw multiple men walking around with kuttes on, which explained why you got the feeling the place was a bit like the island of misfit toys. It took all kinds. However, despite the fact that it was home base for the local MC, it didn’t feel like an intimidating place to be. You felt perfectly comfortable as you approached the bar and took a seat.

“What can I get you?” the young man behind the bar offered you a sweet smile as he asked the question.

You clocked the prospect patch on his kutte as you looked him over, “Just water, please. Just trying to get outta the heat.”

“What brings you here? Don’t think I’ve seen you before,” he noted as he handed you a bottle of water.

You sighed slightly, “Car broke down,” you took a sip of your water, “One of your guys is working on it now, though. Bishop?”

The man behind the bar looked surprised, and the man who was sitting a couple stools down from you couldn’t refrain from making a comment. He turned towards you, “Damn, Bish is working on your car?” he chuckled, shaking his head, “Been a minute since I seen Pres get his hands dirty out there. You know him?”

You shook your head, “Don’t know any of you guys, actually.”

He moved to the stool next to yours, holding out his hand, “I’m Angel,” he nodded towards the man behind the bar, “That knucklehead is EZ.”

You laughed as you shook his hand, giving a courteous nod to EZ, “Nice to meet you both. I’m Y/N.”

The three of you sat and chatted while you waited for Bishop to finish up your car. You laughed as you listened to the two of them banter back and forth. For as much as you wished that your car hadn’t broken down, there were a lot worse people to be spending your afternoon with, so you really couldn’t complain.

“So I met Chucky and Coco,” you said as you sipped on your water.

“The dynamic duo,” EZ said with a laugh as he cleaned the glasses behind the bar.

“Is that right?” you asked with a smile.

“Nah, we all love Chucky,” Angel said, “But him and Coco are on the same wavelength sometimes. Shit’s weird.”

You were listening to the two of them dive into another story when a different voice cut through the conversation, “These guys bothering you?”

You laughed as you turned around to face Bishop, “Not at all. They’ve been perfect gentlemen.”

He raised one eyebrow as he looked back and forth between EZ and Angel, “I find that hard to believe.”

You chuckled, shaking your head, “What’s the verdict on my car, presidente?”

Angel and EZ biting back their laughter was audible. Bishop shot them a look but the serious expression only lasted for a moment as a smile broke out across his face, “So I see the three of you have been talking.”

“We have,” you leaned back against the smile, “I’ve also been informed that I have to be pretty high up on the totem pole in order for you to be the one to work on my car.”

He shook his head with a quiet laugh, “Something like that.”

“You decide to work on my car just because you thought I was cute, Bishop?”

“If I say yes are you gonna be mad?”

You laughed, shaking your head, “Not at all.”

“Then…yes.”

You couldn’t contain your laughter at his response. And you also couldn’t help but to notice the surprised looks on the faces of EZ and Angel as they watched you and Bishop go back and forth. Something told you that the Bishop that you were talking to, wasn’t the Bishop that they were used to seeing. That in and of itself was very interesting to you.

“But in answer to your original question,” Bishop got the conversation back on track, “Your car should be good to go.”

“Perfect, thank you so much,” you hopped off the stool, “I’ll go square everything up with Chucky, then.”

Bishop shook his head, his hand catching you by the waist when you went to walk by him, “You’re all set.”

“Bishop,” you folded your arms across your chest, “I can’t just let you not charge me.”

He nodded slowly, “Alright. First round is on you tonight then. Deal?”

You nodded, knowing that that was as much as you were going to be able to get him to budge, “Deal.”

“Let me go clean up and change. I’m sure these two can keep you amused in the meantime.”

You laughed, nodding, “I think so.”

He let his fingers trail lightly across the small of your back as he walked away. This time it was your turn to watch him, biting down lightly on your bottom lip as you did. You stepped back and found your seat once more at the bar, not able to return your attention to the men in front of you until Bishop was completely out of sight.

“Seriously,” Angel said with a laugh, “who are you?” he shook his head, “Never seen Bish flex so hard around someone.”

You laughed, “It’s because he knows he’s on a time crunch. Can’t play the long-game.”

“Time crunch?” EZ spoke up.

You nodded, “Yea, I’m just passing through. Honestly, Santo Padre wasn’t even really a stop I was planning to make before my car shit the bed,” you chuckled with a shrug, “But now that I’m here I might as well make the most of it. Told Bishop I’d budget in some extra time here if he could make it worth my while.”

“Damn,” Angel shook his head with a smile, “you really put him on the spot like that, huh?”

“He certainly didn’t seem to mind,” you laughed.

“Yea, I’ll bet he didn’t,” there was a knowing smirk on Angel’s face as he lifted his beer bottle to his lips.

Before you could try to pry further into what he meant by that, Bishop reappeared in a fresh set of clothes and his kutte. You couldn’t hide the fact that you were gawking at him as he approached you. He smiled as he approached you, holding out a hand to help you hop down off the stool.

“Ready if you are.”

You nodded, “I was born ready,” you laughed as he draped an arm around your waist and guided you back towards the door to the clubhouse.

“Anywhere in particular you’re looking to go?”

You shook your head, “You’re calling the shots tonight, Pres.” You heard Angel let out a whistle from the bar at your statement and you couldn’t help but to laugh. You turned to look at Bishop as the two of you exited the clubhouse, “Your guys seem pretty happy for you.”

He chuckled and shook his head, “Yea, something like that.”

You let him guide you over to the bikes. You weren’t sure if you should mention to him that you had never ridden one before. But he must’ve seen the look of slight apprehension on your face because he gave you a reassuring smile as he handed you a spare helmet.

“It’s not that bad. Just hang onto me and you’ll be fine.”

You smiled at him as you clipped the helmet on, “That sounds like an easy direction to follow.”

He got onto his bike and helped you to do the same, giving you a moment to get situated. You draped your arms lightly around his waist, but the second the bike roared to life your hold on him instantly tightened, causing him to laugh. He checked one last time that you were good to go and once you said yes, he shot out of the compound. You were holding onto him so tight that you were afraid you were going to crack one of his ribs, but he didn’t say anything.

A few miles into the ride, you finally loosened your hold on Bishop a little, allowing him to breathe with ease. You could feel his body vibrating with laughter as you slowly found your comfort.

“You good, sweetheart?”

You laughed as you leaned against him, “All good.”

Of all the towns that you could’ve gotten stranded in for an afternoon, you were glad that it was Santo Padre. And if there was anyone worth switching up your travel plans for, you had a feeling that it was Bishop.

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #bishop losa #bishop x reader #bishop losa x reader #bishop losa x you #obispo losa #obispo losa x reader #obispo losa imagine #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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scuttle-buttle · 3 years

Text

Chapter 10

WC: 1633

Rated: E

Chapter Tags: anxiety, angst, brief fears of infidelity, discussions of childbearing and marriage/gender roles, psych theories, some manipulation, age difference, brief mention of domestic violence (there is none)

A/N: If you have any questions regarding the tags for this chapter and want to ask me about it before reading please do so! The chapter is not necessarily dark but I understand that some may want me to give a more detailed warning/context. I want all my readers to be as comfortable as possible 💙

🧠

It started out small. He would bring up Dr. Stratton during conversation more and more often. Three times now he had been late to office hours, causing you to have to wait outside his room, nervously checking the time. But it’s nothing, you continue to remind yourself. They’re just good friends that haven’t seen each other in years. And you trust them both.

When another Friday night passed with Laszlo skipping drinks in favor of meeting with Karen, you decided to stay in as well. It had been a month since they reacquainted with one another. In those weeks you had seen less of him outside work. Your sex life was stagnating too, much to your annoyance. He had even canceled at the absolute last minute on a dinner date. Naturally, you had begun to feel a twinge of jealousy at his lack of attention. He kept saying it was work related. Nevertheless, the sullen temperament you'd adopted went unnoticed by the doctor. You felt foolish; you weren’t so needy that you had to make a big deal about it. So you said nothing on the issue.

You sat on the old couch in your apartment. Bitsy was getting ready to go out with Lucius for date night. Picking at your fingers, you decide to ask your roommate for advice. “Hey Bits?”

“Yeah?” she called from her bedroom.

“Can I ask you a question about Lucius?” you start.

“Sure, what’s up?”

You pause as you think of how to word your thoughts. “Do you ever, like, get jealous? When he hangs out with other girls I mean.” Her head pops out of the door frame as she finishes fastening her earring, eyebrows raised in question. “It’s just that Laszlo has been spending a lot of time with Dr. Stratton now that she’s back in town. I trust them and everything, but I’m starting to feel a bit left behind I guess…” you trail off.

“Oh honey, that's normal.” She waves a hand through the air as she speaks. “There’s this girl at the lab that Lucius works with and for the first month I was convinced she was trying to steal him away from me. Turns out she just wanted Marcus, his brother!” Bitsy lets out a cackle.

“Right…” you pick at the skin around your fingernails. “I just feel silly about it. I’m sure I’m overreacting to the whole thing, though. Laszlo would never do anything, and I don’t think Dr. Stratton would either,” you remind yourself outloud. "There's just this thing John said to me about them having a past and I can't get it out of my head."

“It's not silly.” Bitsy had moved further into the bedroom, causing her voice to be slightly muffled. “But if it bothers you that much, talk to him about it. He’s a psychologist, it’s kinda his job to understand emotions and things like this. And if he loves you like you say he does then he’ll put a bit more effort into giving you his attention.”

You marinate on what she’s told you. Bitsy is right, if it bothers you that much then you need to bring it up with him. Be an adult, use communication, and all that. “Why’re you always right and level-headed about everything?”

“Someone’s gotta be, with a hot head like you,” she snarks. Her phone buzzes letting her know her date is downstairs. With a squeeze on the shoulder she bids you goodbye, telling you to let her know if you need anything.

The atmosphere in Dr. Stratton’s office felt off. What was usually so open and warm had felt forced and awkward. You were still ignoring the guilt of your jealousy at the doctor. She wasn’t as talkative today, unlike usual. Instead, it was strictly business. You chalked it up to her having an off day.

The two of you discussed in more depth the fetishes and kinks from the list you had compiled. Unfortunately, due to spending less time with your boyfriend the last few weeks you hadn’t had much of an opportunity to try any of the new tricks you were learning about. Therefore, you had little to really talk about in that regard. You found that you didn’t particularly mind, as you were feeling less inclined to want to share about your love life due to your envy towards the woman in question.

Dr. Stratton quietly gathered together her notes from the session and placed them into the folder. You were about to ask if she needed anything else from you when her lips parted before closing again. She leaned forward on her desk towards you. Her fingers steepled under her chin.

She licks her lips. “There is something I wish to discuss with you unrelated to the study.”

You didn’t like where this was going. Dread pooled in your gut at the concerned look on her face. “O-okay.”

“Now I want you to understand that I only bring this up out of concern for your wellbeing and emotional health. But some of the things you have told me over the course of this study have me worried.”

What on earth could you have said that would cause this sort of reaction from her? She was the most calm and collected person you had ever known. To have her speaking out made your heart race in your chest.

She takes a moment to gather her thoughts before opening her mouth again. “In truth I worry about your current relationship. I fear that-”

Brows furrowing, your mind goes to the worst conclusion. You blurt out “what? No! He doesn’t hurt me or anything, I don’t know what would have given you that impression but I- ”

The doctor reaches out with her hand to settle on your forearm. “My dear take a breath, I meant no such thing.”

You take a deep inhale to compose yourself. “Then what are you talking about?”

“Speaking as your friend, and as an alienist, I fear that this boyfriend is potentially using you for your youth,” she begins the tale she concocted, unbeknownst to you. “In my experience as a psychologist, the young women such as yourself that I encounter with significantly older male companions find themselves locked into the relationship. Typically, it is from dependence on money at first. Over time, the male pressures the woman to be compliant in things like marriage and childbearing. I understand how difficult it is for a woman as driven as you to balance your aspirations with relationships and domestic matters. Do you want children?”

Her statement and question take you back. Confusion is written all over your face. Marriage? Children? Neither you nor Laszlo had ever brought up either subject. You didn’t even know if it was something he was interested in. “Wait what? I'm not sure I follow…”

“Men around his age go through an identity crisis in which they begin to become aware of their mortality. A change in priorities. The most common desire is to procreate, to start a family in which to pass on their wisdom is strongest here. Are you prepared to give him children soon? Of course there is nothing wrong with wanting to be a mother, it is a very noble role. Yet you do not strike me as someone ready for such a large step.”

You can barely form a coherent thought at her onslaught. The whole conversation was so out of the blue that you felt incredibly lost. Did you want children? Did he want children? Now? You wrap your arms around your torso to stave off the uncertainty and anxiety you feel creeping in. No words come to your defense at her interrogation. You are speechless, jaw dropped.

She stands and crosses the room, placing her cool hands on your cheeks. “My dear you are still a child yourself. This is something you need to consider. To… consider the possibility that you can’t give him what he needs. That he may need someone closer to his age with the same priorities, someone more willing to give in to his needs now. I don’t think you’re ready for that. I’ve seen the cost that these girls face. And the societal pressures and judgement you would face being with someone so much older? I think it could throw you into a state similar to after your friend passed. I wouldn’t want to see you in that position again. I want you to have your freedom."

Dr. Stratton looks up at the clock suddenly; “oh! My, I’m going to be late for a meeting, you’ll have to go. I don’t believe we need any more sessions for the study, but I will let you know if anything changes.”

You are too in shock trying to process everything she said to you as she ushers you out of the door with a “think about what I said, dear.” The door shuts behind you.

Karen sat with a huff. She felt a tad guilty for what she had said to you. She had no idea if Laszlo wanted marriage or children, he hadn’t when they were first together. But times change. She hoped that by using the angle of kids and identity crises that she could subtly plant a seed of doubt in your mind. Strike quickly and overwhelmingly, plant the doubt that you weren’t right for him, then push you out before you have the chance to seek answers or reassurance from her. It seemed you bought her false concern as actual worry. You were a great girl. But you were just that - a girl. You couldn’t give Laszlo what he needed, not like she could.

Now she simply had to wait and let your mind eat away at itself, leaving him for the taking.

Tag list

@hardlyinteresting @lorna-d-m @livvyshmiv @somethingthatsaysbubbles @greeneyedblondie44 @unbeatablecurlgirl @apparrio @marchingicenotes7 @anteroom-of-death @bruhidaniel @lemairepstuff @thehuiabird @zemosimp05 @alindeluce @iamnotthecatladynextdoor @laura-naruto-fan1998 @trelaney @boneheadduluc @i-am-dead-inside-666 @fictionlandslanddreams @thatoneartgalsstuff @hb8301 @fandom-princess-forevermore @foggycandywitch @creme-bruhlee @andy-rocks @nonamec0s

#psychopathia sexualis #the interpretation of dreams #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo kreizler #laszlo x reader #laszlo kreizler fanfic #the alienist #the alienist angel of darkness #daniel brühl #daniel bruhl #daniel bruhl laszlo kreizler #tw anxiety #tw infidelity #tw psychological manipulation #gender expectations #scuttle-buttle

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here4theheartbreak · 3 years

Text

Breadsticks & a Boyfriend (kth/jjk)

AO3 Link Here!

Relationships: Jungkook x Taehyung Genre: smut, pwp Final Rating: Explicit Word Count (Chapter): ~3.4k

Tags (more added as needed): smut, PWP, strangers to lovers, rough sex, dirty talk, sex toys, face fucking, coming untouched, shy Jungkook

Summary: When Taehyung took a simple order of pizza, breadsticks, and a soda to a customer on a rainy day, he had no idea how good his tip would be.

A/N: This fic was written for the @bangtanwritingbingo Summer Bingo square Jungkook x Taehyung and also for @venusiangguk who requested TaeKook with prompt #11: “Is it an oral fixation or do you just not want to talk to me?”

The life of a pizza delivery boy was far more interesting than one would think. Though it was a lower end, minimum wage job, for someone like Taehyung, it was excellent. He was a natural social butterfly. Outgoing, bright, vibrant, always seeking to make new friends. This job allowed him to meet a whole variety of people. Who didn’t like pizza? Upper class, snobby elite individuals, right down to the barely surviving folks who managed to scrape together enough for a small delivery once in a blue moon – Taehyung loved meeting them all.

It was a Friday. It was payday. It was a good day. At least, until the clouds rolled in, darkening the sky and bringing thunder. And unfortunate torrents of rain. But a delivery boy doesn’t get a day off, and orders tended to only increase when the weather was this cruddy.

Taehyung didn’t mind. Not really. He could handle a little rain and he had a sturdy car.

The delivery was simple. A large pepperoni pizza, a small order of breadsticks, and a 2 liter of Coke. Simple. Probably a parent with a young child, a college age student, or a babysitter. Should be quick. Probably not a great tip for any of them, but that was okay; he’d had a big delivery to a house party earlier and had made a massive tip… And gotten a cute boy’s number. Taehyung was handsome, so it happened more than one would assume. The jokes about wanting to sleep with the pizza boy weren’t always jokes. Not that he’d ever go through with any of it. It was simple flirtation, it helped with tips. Taehyung figured he’d have to find someone pretty damn special to actually call them back.

The rain seemed to come down harder as Taehyung drove to the address on his GPS. He reached a cute little house with a nicely kept yard. It was a little bit of a walk from where he was able to park to the porch… The driveway would offer a little more protection and a little shorter distance… Normally he didn’t park in driveways; people tended to sometimes get a little angry – but considering the circumstances…

Taehyung pulled into the driveway, nosing as close as he dared to the garage door. He grabbed the pizza bag and covered it carefully with a plastic sheet before pulling up his hood and getting out. He raced from the driveway to the front door, relaxing only when he was safely on the porch. He knocked once, putting on a broad smile.

The door opened a crack, and then a little further, and then all the way. And Taehyung, for what it was worth, forgot how to breathe.

Standing in the doorway was the most stunning young man he’d ever seen. The man was just a little shorter than he was, with shaggy brown hair that swooped down nearly over his eyes, parted enough to peek his forehead. He wore thick silver hoops in his ears, two in his right and one in his left. His plush mouth and round nose matched his face perfectly, and dark eyes drew Taehyung in almost immediately. The man’s beauty wasn’t lowered or altered in the slightest by the fact that he was wearing a sweater and sweats, his feet bare. He smiled softly, his nose crinkling up.

Taehyung beamed. “Hey. Pizza. You’re…” He glanced at the nametag on the receipt. “Jeon Jungkook?”

Jungkook nodded. He glanced over Taehyung shoulder, his small smile drooping. “Come inside,” he said softly, stepping aside.

“Oh, thank you.” Taehyung stepped inside just enough for Jungkook to close the door, and crouched to take out the food. He handed it over to Jungkook quickly. “Pouring out there,” he commented.

“Flooding,” Jungkook agreed.

Taehyung scowled at that. He turned, glancing out the window. As Jungkook had commented, the streets were nearly filled with water, pouring in rivets in certain areas. Taehyung’s body went cold. “Oh God, it got worse.”

“Doesn’t look safe to drive in,” Jungkook muttered.

Taehyung sighed heavily. He turned back and smiled as best he could. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

He turned to grab the doorknob, but Jungkook rushed forward, grabbing his wrist.

“It’s a flash flood. News said it was dangerous. You should stay until it’s lightened up.” His voice was soft and timid, barely above a whisper. Either he was terrified, or truly the shiest man in the city. But he seemed genuine in his concern, and Taehyung felt a strange peace come over him at that.

“I’ll call my boss.” Taehyung turned and pulled out his phone, dialing his boss’ number.

“Kim Taehyung! Are you safe? It got so bad out there, I was worried sick.”

“I’m fine. I’m at the last customer’s house.”

“I shouldn’t have sent you out in this mess. Can you make it back?”

“The roads are pretty flooded. I was calling to ask if I could stay out. Until they clear up. I’ll work extra hours tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry about it. Stay safe. Do you know the customer?”

“No, but he’s letting me stay until it clears up. I’ll let you know when I make it home.”

“Thank you, keep me updated.”

Taehyung hung up and smiled. “She’s okay with me not going back. Uh… Thanks for letting me hide out here until the weather lightens.”

Jungkook nodded. He looked down at the food in his hands and turned, setting it on his table. He turned back, chewing his bottom lip.

Taehyung blinked, unsure what to do. He watched Jungkook disappear through a doorway and then return, holding out a paper plate toward Taehyung.

“Are you offering me lunch?” Taehyung asked. Jungkook nodded, pulling open the pizza box.

“Thanks.” Taehyung kicked his shoes off and hung his hoodie before he stepped up, taking a slice of the pizza. “I’m Kim Taehyung.” He stuck out his hand. Jungkook smiled shyly and shook it. He opened his mouth to answer and then closed it, grabbing a breadstick and sticking it into his mouth instead.

Taehyung laughed a little.

He sat at the table, watching Jungkook eat.

“Do you live alone?” He asked. Jungkook swallowed the bite he had in his mouth and nodded, quickly adding more food to his mouth.

Their lunch continued in that manner – Jungkook would answer yes or no answers, always adding food to his mouth, a drink, or biting on something to keep his mouth too full to give Taehyung much of an answer at all. Despite the one-sided conversation, Taehyung was thoroughly intrigued by Jungkook. He wanted to know everything about him. Namely, why he refused to speak.

Despite his quiet nature, Taehyung could feel Jungkook looking at him whenever he looked away. A few times their gazes met, and Jungkook’s was intense enough that Taehyung found himself a bit flustered. For someone who refused to speak, he was certainly showing plenty of interest.

After lunch, Jungkook wandered over to the couch. He looked at Taehyung and patted the seat next to him. Taehyung smirked. He settled next to Jungkook, turning his attention to the television when Jungkook turned it on, flipping through the channels. He picked up the string on his sweatshirt as he did, sticking it into his mouth and chewing gently on it.

Taehyung chuckled a little. He relaxed back against the couch, glancing over at Jungkook every little bit. Even relaxed like this – the boy was stunning. His profile was nearly perfect. He could easily be a singer or a celebrity.

“What do you do for a living, Jungkook?” Taehyung finally asked.

Jungkook looked over, his eyes wide. He dropped the string from his mouth. “I— I’m computer. I program. Computers.” He stuttered.

“Wow, that’s cool,” Taehyung grinned. “You must be super smart, that’s such a cool job.”

Jungkook smiled shyly. He stuck the string back in his mouth, gnawing on it.

“I’m finishing up college myself,” Taehyung continued, looking back at the television. “For photography and media design. I absolutely love art in all forms.”

He glanced at Jungkook from the corner of his eye, catching the other eyeing him up and down. A slow smirk crossed his lips.

“You know, Jungkook… I’ve gotta ask.” He looked back at him and reached out, tugging the sweatshirt string from his mouth. “Is it an oral fixation, or do you just not want to talk to me?”

Jungkook’s eyes widened. He covered his mouth and tilted his head a little.

“No, I—I don’t not want to talk to you. I mean, I—” He squeaked a little, covering his ears.

Taehyung’s grin grew. “Are you really so shy?”

Jungkook lowered his gaze and nodded.

“Well you don’t have to be.”

Instead of responding, Jungkook slipped his finger into his mouth, chewing the skin around the side of his fingernail.

Taehyung reached out, pushing his hand down. He shifted over a little, staring until Jungkook looked at him.

“You’ve been checking me out all afternoon.”

“You noticed?” Jungkook squeaked. His cheeks began to redden in little blotches, chest rising a little faster. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“It’s creepy,” Jungkook muttered.

“I don’t think so. In fact, I’m pretty flattered.” Taehyung reached out, hesitating a moment before touching Jungkook’s cheek with his hand. “Not often a stunning young man looks at me like that.”

“I didn’t mean to…” Jungkook whispered. He looked away, but didn’t pull his face away from Taehyung’s grip.

“I’ve been looking at you too, Jungkook.” Taehyung paused, letting Jungkook look at him once more. When he did, Taehyung continued. “We’re both adults. If you do have an oral fixation… Well…” Taehyung wet his lips, leaving the question unasked.

Jungkook’s eyes dropped down to his crotch, and Taehyung smirked.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Is that what you were thinking about?”

Jungkook didn’t answer. He bit on his lips, sucking them in until they formed a fine line. Taehyung pushed a little further, stroking his thumb over Jungkook’s mouth.

“It’s okay if it was. You just need to tell me. So that I know how to respond.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened just enough to be noticeable. He released the grip on his lips, then bit his bottom lip once more, drumming his fingers on his thigh. “What if I was?” He kept the same soft voice, but there was something else. A rough, needy tone that sent the blood straight to Taehyung’s cock.

“I guess I’d have no choice but to oblige your curiosity. I can’t deny a cute boy his wants, now can I?” Taehyung rose. He put his hands on his jeans, hesitating. “Is this what you were thinking about, Jungkook?”

Jungkook nodded, his eyes glued to Taehyung’s crotch.

Taehyung undid his jeans. He could not honestly believe he was doing this. He pushed his jeans and boxers down, letting them pool around his ankles. His cock was already standing at attention, mostly hard at the prospect of having Jungkook in any way.

Despite his shyness, Jungkook responded immediately. He sank to his knees and stroked Taehyung’s cock twice before opening his mouth. Taehyung pushed his hips forward slowly, letting his smooth tip slide over Jungkook’s tongue.

“Holy shit... Suck on it.”

Jungkook’s lips closed immediately and he began to suck, bobbing his head easily along the shaft. Taehyung’s toes curled. He buried his fingers in Jungkook’s soft curls, letting his head fall back. His cock hardened the rest of the way within seconds. Taehyung snapped his hips forward until the tip of his cock bumped the back of Jungkook’s throat. He looked down.

Jungkook gagged once, screwing his eyes shut. Instead of pulling back, he shifted, swallowing the spit pooling around Taehyung’s cock. He moved back a little and pushed forward. Taehyung felt his tip bump his throat again, and the convulsion of his throat, and then it relaxed.

Taehyung shouted when his tip slipped into Jungkook’s warm, tight throat. He began to pump his hips gently, not wanting to hurt Jungkook, but wanting to savor that tight, unique feeling. He pulled his cock free, marveling at how slick with spit it was, shining in the lamplight. Jungkook let his mouth hang open, drool spilling out over his chin and onto his lap. His cock was tenting the front of his sweats obscenely.

“You getting off swallowing my dick, pretty one?” Taehyung teased, slapping Jungkook’s cheek with his cock.

Jungkook nodded. He leaned back, pulling his sweats down around his knees. His cock wasn’t huge, but it certainly was hard, dripping precome the moment it was exposed.

“Can you come from this, sweetie?” Taehyung cooed. He rubbed his cock over Jungkook’s lips.

“Almost,” Jungkook whispered. “As long as I can finger my ass.”

“Do you have toys?”

Jungkook nodded.

“Go put one in for me. One that will help you come. I want you to squirt without touching yourself.”

“Yes, Sir.” Jungkook rose. He tugged off his sweats and rushed off. Taehyung stroked his cock lazily, Jungkook’s spit slicking the way.

Jungkook returned with a thick, curved dildo in one hand.

“Wanna stick it up my ass?”

“I’d love to.”

Jungkook crawled onto the couch. He let his head hang over the edge, and slung his back and hips up the back of it, folding himself up so his knees nearly touched his chest. The angle exposed, and spread, his ass beautifully. Taehyung spit against his hole, smirking when it fluttered and Jungkook giggled.

“I was fingering myself before you came,” he explained. “Just stick it in.”

Taehyung did as he requested, sliding the silicone cock past his tight rim. Jungkook moaned contentedly, his dick dribbling precome onto his upper chest.

“Jungkook...” Taehyung said, nestling the toy neatly between Jungkook’s ass cheeks. “Can you come on your own face in this position?”

Jungkook nodded.

“Let me know when you’re close... I wanna see that.”

Taehyung shifted, rubbing his cock over Jungkook’s lips once more before sliding into his warm mouth. The new angle let Taehyung watch his cock slowly slipping in, each bob of Jungkook’s Adam’s apple as he swallowed, easing the way for the sensitive tip to finally slip into his throat. Despite having been there earlier - the feeling still caught Taehyung off guard. He lightly rested his hand on Jungkook’s throat as he began to pump his hips. Much to his surprise, right at the start of his throat, Taehyung could feel a little bulge on each inward stroke. He rubbed it gently, gasping at the sudden pressure.

“Oh god, I’m really in your throat—“ he panted. He pulled back and Jungkook gasped in a breath. He grinned, his eyes shut.

“Where’d you think I was putting it?” He teased.

Taehyung slapped his bare ass, working the dildo deeper, and Jungkook moaned.

Taehyung slid his cock back into his mouth, gripping the base of the dildo. One hand rested over Jungkook’s throat, rubbing lightly each time he pumped his cock. The other he used to tug the dildo, not enough to pull it free from the clench of Jungkook’s rim, but just enough to tease.

Jungkook moaned around Taehyung’s cock, the wet gulping noises adding to the obscenity - and sexiness - of the situation.

Jungkook’s cock was leaking precome freely, dribbling clear streaks over his heaving, sweat slicked chest. He began to tap Taehyung’s thigh and pointed at his cock.

Taehyung pulled out, and Jungkook moaned loudly. He reached down, holding his ass open further, and pushing his hips up more. His cock twitched and throbbed visibly. Taehyung began to work the dildo quicker, angling it against where his prostate should be. Jungkook’s eyes rolled back.

“Stick it down my throat,” he begged. His voice was rasping and dry. He opened his mouth wide, sticking his tongue out.

Taehyung obeyed, sliding his cock in. Jungkook’s nose nuzzled against his tight, full balls, and he gagged, his cock twitching. Taehyung struggled to hold still as Jungkook began to swallow and moan around him. The squeeze was bordering on uncomfortable, but Taehyung barely noticed. Jungkook was moaning against him, the vibrations tingling up his cock and all the way to his toes. He almost missed the desperate tapping on his thigh for a second time.

He pulled out, and Jungkook jerked hard. He burped, his cheeks pinking up even more, and his cock began to spurt. The first rope landed on his chin, milky and thick. Jungkook tilted his head just enough and the next two spurted into his open mouth. Taehyung went forward, sliding his cock in. The final hot rope streaked over his shaft, making him shudder. He pushed his cock deep into Jungkook’s mouth, feeling the silky slide of Jungkook’s come as it coated his cock.

He began to pump his hips, chasing his orgasm. “Gonna come in your throat,“ Taehyung gasped, holding Jungkook’s head. Jungkook gave a thumbs up, moaning around his cock.

Two more pumps and Taehyung went still, grunting softly. His cock spilled into Jungkook’s throat, milked by the steady swallows, and urged on by Jungkook’s hands on his ass, holding him deep. The orgasm curled his toes, every nerve alight with pleasure. Each pump he knew he was spilling into the delicate, exposed throat of his pretty new friend. Jungkook’s breath was hot against his balls as he struggled to draw in air and not choke on the come. His own softening cock twitched weakly and dribbled onto his chest.

Taehyung pulled out only when he began to soften, and Jungkook shot up, coughing and gagging. Taehyung sat next to him, rubbing and patting his back. He reached up, wiping away some of the stray come and spit streaking Jungkook’s face.

“You okay?” Taehyung worried. Jungkook nodded, clearing his throat. He smiled sheepishly.

“I’m okay,” he whispered, his voice raspy. Taehyung rose and grabbed the cup of soda from the table, bringing it over to Jungkook. Jungkook rose just enough to pull his sweats up before slumping back onto the couch and taking the cup from Taehyung.

Taehyung fixed his jeans, glancing around.

“So that was… Something…”

“Were you pleased?” Jungkook asked softly, staring into the cup.

“Was I—Of course I was pleased, you were great. I’ve never had someone… So happy to do that. Do you really like it when people…”

Jungkook nodded again. “I don’t get the opportunity often. I’m too shy to really make friends, let alone proposition someone.”

Taehyung sat back down next to Jungkook. “Look, we just met… And I didn’t, obviously… Plan for any of this. So, you would be well within your rights to tell me to fuck off…”

Jungkook looked over, tilting his head a little curiously.

Taehyung smiled. “God you’re cute,” he sighed.

Jungkook giggled a little at that, lowering his gaze. “I already sucked your dick,” he said softly. “You don’t need to butter me up.”

“What if I’m buttering you up for something else?” Taehyung asked. Jungkook looked back up.

“Like what?”

“A date.”

Jungkook raised his eyebrows, making them disappear into his shaggy bangs. “A date? W… With you?”

“Yeah, with me. I like you. I want to get to know you better. What do you think?”

“I—” Jungkook seemed to freeze, pinching his lips together in a fine line.

“You don’t have to say yes,” Taehyung worried.

“No, I – I want to. I just… Why?”

“Because I like you.” Taehyung shrugged. “You want to?”

Jungkook nodded.

“Great. Uh… Well, I mean… Obviously I’m already over but… Maybe this weekend?”

“I’d like that.”

Taehyung grinned. He pulled out his phone and handed it over to Jungkook. “Your number, if you’re okay with that?”

“Yeah, of course.” Jungkook took it and typed it in. As he did, Taehyung rose, peeking out of the blinds.

“Looks like the flooding has gone down enough. I should probably get back to my work.”

Jungkook nodded. He rose, fixing his own pants. He handed Taehyung’s phone back.

“Text me so I can get your number… Drive safe, okay?”

Taehyung nodded. He pulled on his jacket and toed into his shoes. Jungkook moved up to him, looking shy once more.

“What?” Taehyung teased.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Can’t get enough of that oral fixation, eh?” Taehyung joked. He reached out, brushing his thumb over Jungkook’s bottom lip. “Of course you can.”

He pulled Jungkook into a gentle kiss, holding him close. It was funny, he realized, as they separated and he hurried out the door to his car. A simple twist of fate – a forced meeting – a simple call for a pizza on a rainy day – could change an entire life.

#thebtswritersclub #bangtanarmynet #networkbangtan #bangtansummerbingo #taekook #smut #jungkook fic #jungkook smut #taehyung smut #taehyung fic #taehyung x jungkook #jungkook x taehyung #jeongguk x taehyung #jungkook x v #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #mywriting

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morizoras-cave · 4 years

Text

Memories Last Forever (Collab with @Lozzypoz321)

Chris Evans x f!teen!co-star!reader, Chris Pratt x reader, Tom Holland x reader, Sebastian Stan x reader, Paul Rudd x reader

Genre: fluff!

Description: In an interview your costars gush over your talent and awesomeness, and reflect on all the good memories from set.

Warnings: None bro

A/N from morizoras-cave: Before this I’d never ever done a collab before, but Loz approached me and I was super duper excited about it. Loz is such a nice person and an evil mastermind and I definitely hope to write with her in the future! ;))) This was so much fun, I love you Loz :D

A/N from @lozzypoz321: I really enjoyed writing this and it brought a smile to my face, I hope you do too! V is such an amazing writer and you may see something from us more in the future *wink wonk*

“So,” Mark, the interviewer started with interest and kept his eyes on you all “I saw that on Twitter a couple of months ago, you and your costar, (Y/N), took a selfie at the teen choice awards which you won by the way” hope directed the last part at you, making a blush creep up onto your cheeks involuntary “what would you say that was like?”

Chris (Evans) laughed lightly, taking a moment to ponder the question. “Well, I’m super thankful for all the people who nominated me and her, we enjoyed it greatly and I’m very proud of (Y/N) for what she’s achieved.”

You rubbed your face with sweaty palms, flustered that your costars were saying such nice things about you. Sebastian swung his legs back and forth on the couch where he was sitting and gave a grin “yeah, I think we all are, people look up at the screen and think that since she’s so small that the fame would get to her but,” he took a pause and jokingly nudged you in the ribs “she’s very humble.”

Without meaning to, you laughed out quietly. It wasn’t that you got embarrassed when someone complimented you, it was more that you thought that you didn’t deserve all the attention they were giving you.

“Guys, stop” you mumbled quietly, earning a full on laugh from beside you. Chris (Pratt) nodded towards the camera in the rooms corner. “Super kind too” the man added on to Sebastian's previous statement.

“Woah, remember when she won an Emmy?!” Tom (Holland) said in joking amazement, earning another shake of the head from you. Paul (Rudd) laughed with everyone and ran a hand through his short hair and faked bitterness “man, I haven’t even won an Emmy!”

Mark chuckled lightly and brought his notebook back up into his eyesight, looking at his next question to ask you all. “What has been your favourite moment filming on set?”

Chris (Pratt) looked around at everyone for a second before asking “we taking it in turns?”

“Um.. yeah, sure.”

Tom (Holland) went first, rubbing his hands together in concentration, “well, it probably has to be that dinner we went to with all the cast. I remember Anthony Mackie falling over, I loved it” making you all laugh and turn to Chris (Evans) who looked as if that was the hardest question he’d ever been asked in his life. You swore you heard him mutter “I don’t wike it” under his breath but just shrugged it off, “well if I had to choose it was probably the dance battle me and RDJ had outside Scarletts trailer,” he looked at the camera with seriousness drawn all over his features and a smirk on his lips “I won of course”

Paul (Rudd) went next and he was practically bouncing in his seat, “I got to hold Thor’s hammer when he left to go eat lunch, (Y/N) helped me steal it off set.” You gasped.

“You’ve ratted me out!” shock was written all over your face. The other cast members laughed, as Paul feigned surprise. “I can’t believe you!” you said. Sebastian patted your shoulder, jokingly. “That’s what you get for trusting Paul,” he told you and you had to agree. What were you thinking?

Chris (Pratt) began speaking, taking the heat off Paul, “I loved when you guys held a surprise birthday party for me,” he smiled warmly. Chris (Evans) shook his head and sighed. “Of course, he picks something about himself!”

The entire cast burst into laughter, you included. You loved watching the banter between them all. “Hm, I’ve gotta say, my favourite moment was when me and Anthony,” Sebastian paused, winking at you in a very exaggerated manner, “stole the script all by ourselves.” You nodded along, mumbling “of course, of course. The full truth and nothing but the truth.”

There was a moment of silence, as you thought about your favourite moment. There were so many to choose from, and the thought of it all brought a small smile to your lips. Your eyes lit up suddenly.

“My favourite moment was when we all had that sleepover on set! And everyone brought their sleeping bags and mattresses, and we ate pizza and watched Iron Man 1,” you stopped for a moment, but then gasped again, all the memories coming back to you, “and then we played hide and seek, and somehow Hemsworth was the last one to be found. And then we stole the food out the vending machines and accidentally broke, like, half of them.”

All the other cast members chuckled at the memories from that night. Mostly, they smiled seeing how happy the memories made you. They were happy to have brought good memories into your life, ones you’d always be able to look back on with a smile. The interview ended, and so did the movies and their contracts, but the memories you’d made with them lasted forever. :)

___________________________

Tag List:

@hera-the-writer @marvel-madness @40srogcrs @whatthefuckimbisexual @snarky–starky @garbage-potato @lozzypoz321 @allthecreativeonesaretaken @missamericana713 @rororo06 @shady80smusicsingercolor @ireadfanficforfun @deephideoutmilkshake @rae-is-typing @sophs-library @herecomesthewriterwitch @alicedanganh @eviemarvel @idk123906

#chris evans x reader #sebastian stan x reader #paul rudd x reader #chris pratt x reader #Tom Holland x reader #avengers cast x reader #avengers cast x teen!reader #mcu cast x reader #marvel cast x reader #tom holland fluff #chris evans fluff #sebastian stan fluff #paul rudd fluff #chris pratt fluff

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

Text

The Masks We Wear

Warnings: non-consent sex, depression, suicide, self-harm, drugging, overdose. If you don’t like any of these themes, do not keep reading. For real, it’s hidden under a keep reading link so you can check out now. Take care of yourselves, my dudes.

This is dark!Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Synopsis: You find yourself at the end of your rope but someone unexpected picks up the other end.

Note: I wrote this for me and I won’t apologize for that. I love a sweet Steve that turns slowly. Heed the warnings.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

You stared at the number. The digits slowly punched into your phone glaring back at you. Your finger hovered over the icon that would connect the call. The screen blurred in your vision as the tears rose again.

Had it really come to this?

You had to call. You knew that. If you didn’t…

You hit call and raised the phone shakily to your ear. You hugged your legs as you sat on the floor against the side of the couch. You still wore your work uniform, a navy shirt and dark pants. You played with your name tag as you waited for the line to pick up.

"You have reached the National Crisis Lifeline. If you are in emotional distress or suicidal crisis or are concerned about someone who might be, we're here to help. Please remain on the line while we route your call to the nearest crisis center in our network." The automated voice recited the greeting as you unclipped the tag and set it on the arm of the couch behind your head.

It wasn't too late to hang up. To suck it up. You could help yourself. You were an adult. So why was it that you couldn't put the phone down?

"Hello, my name's Steve. Who am I talking to today?" The voice was placid, calm. You were thankful not to be met with the usual, fake, chipper customer service voice.

"Uh," you uttered. You stared at the window across from you and blinked. "Um, um, um."

"Take a breath," the voice was male; soothing. "Whenever you're ready."

You inhaled and closed your eyes. You bent your elbow over your knees and dropped your head. You said your name and sniffed. " I don't know why I called."

"We don't have to talk about why you called. We can just talk." He offered.

You cleared your throat and wiggled your nose as you felt more tears prick at your eyes. "I don't have much to talk about. I work, I come home, I sleep, rinse, repeat. Even when I have free time I got… nothing. No one."

"You don't have family?" He asked.

"Not that I talk to."

"Hmm, have you ever thought of reaching out to co-workers? You already spend hours with them."

"Most of them are kids. College freshman who'd rather do anything else than hang with me." You sat up and leaned your head against the couch. "I'm a thirty-year-old loser. I work retail and eat ramen for dinner. I may as well burn my degrees… maybe along with this damn box I live in."

He said your name, gently. "I want you to take another breath and then tell me three good things about your life. Just three. It can be something that happened today, it can be something you own, it can be something you like about yourself, or even something you can do tomorrow to look forward to."

You scoffed and shook your head. He repeated your name and you swallowed your resent.

"Alright," you took a breath, "I have a roof over my head."

"Good."

"I… I made a woman happy today by finding her a gift for her daughter."

"Mhmm."

"And… and I still have some of my favourite tea left."

"Amazing. See?"

"I guess but… but these things are so small and it's always the same. Nothing ever changes. Nothing's going to change and nothing is going to get better."

"Change is small, like those things, so sometimes it's harder to see those changes."

You were silent. Tired.

"I want to ask you something, okay? You don't have to answer if you're uncomfortable."

"Alright?" You shrugged.

"Have you ever hurt yourself or thought of hurting yourself?"

The question made you squirm. The tears finally broke through and trickled down your cheeks.

"Yes… but it's better than hurting someone else, isn't it?"

"No, because you're still hurting someone. In fact, you're hurting the most important person in your life. Right?"

You were quiet again. You wiped away your tears and leaned your chin in your hand.

"Sure."

"I want you to do something for me. Actually for yourself, okay? I want you to go get some of that tea and make yourself a cup. Then I want you to drink it slow and enjoy it. Every last sip."

"What?" You snorted.

"I want you to make it a habit. Every day I want you to do one nice thing for yourself."

"It's just tea."

"What kind of tea is it?"

”It's this blueberry lemon stuff I found down at the market. Nothing special."

"That sounds delicious." He said. "Where are you right now? Are you sitting? Standing?"

"I'm sitting by my couch. On the floor."

”Alright, baby steps. Stand up.”

You huffed but did as he said. "Okay?"

”Now, let's go to the kitchen.”

Again, you obliged him.

”Now, let's get the kettle on and a mug.”

”Alright," you grumbled and took out everything you needed as he listened from the other end, ”Alright, it's all good to go.”

”And what are you thinking about?”

"The tea?" You said dumbly.

"And? Anything else?"

"No. Just…"

"When you get frustrated with standing still, it's not about making big leaps. It's about the small things. So don't think about what's happened or what's going to happen. Think about what you can do now. Think about the present and what you can do to make it a little better for yourself.”

You frowned. He was making sense. You hadn't been worried about your wasted years in university or the angry customers on your horizon, you had been thinking about the tea and what mug to use. All that stuff didn't matter in that moment.

"You said you're Steve?” You asked.

”Yes,” he answered softly.

”Thank you. I… I'm sorry if I wasted your time."

"You didn't. You're not.” He assured you. ”We can keep talking if you like.”

"No, no, I think… I'll enjoy my tea and you can help someone else."

"Alright, but will you do me another favour?"

"Um, sure?" You watched the kettle, a long way from whistling.

"I work every Tuesday and Thursday after six. Will you call me next week? I'll give you my extension. Just let me know you're okay and how the tea was, okay?"

"I…” you rubbed your chin and turned to lean on the counter, "yeah, I'll call."

📞

You decided to call Steve on Tuesday. The same nerve-wracking wait before the line picked up and you quickly punched in the extension he gave you. There was a beep as you were held on call waiting and you fiddled with the edge of the notebook where you'd written down his information.

He picked up after two minutes. The same greeting as before.

"It's me." You gave your name and winced as you wondered if he even remembered you.

"Hey," he said smoothly, "Good to hear from you. Did you have a tea today?

"Um, now, I just got home."

"Well, did you do anything nice for yourself?"

"...no." You admitted.

"Well, then go make a tea and tell me everything else you've done this week to be good to yourself."

"I…” you stood stiffly and went to the kitchen. "I haven't… I went to the park on my day off," You filled the kettle and put it on the stove, "But I've been working mostly."

"That's it?"

"I've been busy," you said.

"You don't have five minutes for you?" He asked doubtfully. "You gotta make the time. Even if it's just five minutes to sit down and clear your head."

You opened the cupboard and stared at the line of mugs, each one different than the last.

"Steve…" you said carefully, "What do you do when you're not doing… this?"

"Tell me what you do and I'll tell you." He countered.

You sighed and grabbed the mug shaped like a teddy bear. " I work at a clothes shop. I know, it's exciting."

"What kind of clothes do you sell?" He asked.

"I don't know… mostly, uh, business stuff." You placed the cup down and fished out the blueberry tea. "I sell clothes to people with more important jobs."

"Your job is important. You help people. You told me yourself last week. You know, I help people too. How we help isn't as important as the fact that we do help."

You rubbed your chin as you fingered the chip along the handle of the mug. "How exactly do you help people, then?"

"Well, I do this," He answered, "And I work security."

"Security? Like at a bank or something?"

"Or something," He replied, "So, did you just call to tell me you're okay or did you wanna talk about it?"

"I told you, not much changes." You muttered.

"It will once you take my advice. One thing a day. Got it?" He urged. "I want you to start by going to the market tomorrow and getting yourself a new flavour of tea."

"I gotta work," you bemoaned.

"Five minutes on your way home," he said, "we're not looking for the perfect tea, just something new. Then you call me and tell me if it's any good."

"I thought… I thought you didn't work Wednesdays."

"You're right," he chuckled as if he hadn't realised. "Tell you what, I'll give you my number and you text me. Every time you do something for you, let me know… and if you don't, I'll remind you. Deal?"

"I… I don't know." You picked at your nail as you held your phone between your shoulder and ear.

"One text a day. That's all." He said. "Wouldn't hurt to have someone on your side, would it?"

"I g-guess," You stuttered as you caught your phone before it could slip. "I'll get a pen."

📞

The texts were small at first. ‘Had a tea’, ‘started a new book’, ‘read a chapter on my way to work’, or ‘bought a piece of cake on my lunch’. Each one seemed more absurd than the last but after a few weeks it became a habit. Steve nearly always responded quickly, just a few encouraging words but it made the days easier. It made life easier even when the big things got you down.

It was your day off. You took on a few extra hours the week before so you decided to go out for your treat that day. You went about your routine slowly, not your usual frantic I gotta catch the train pace. You preened yourself and pulled out a pair of pale jeans and a knit sweater. You tucked your feet into your comfy sneakers and headed out with your purse and headphones.

You would take a long walk through the park then sneak out the east gates to grab something special from the coffee place just across the street. Then you would head back and enjoy the scenery as you sipped at whatever overpriced concoction you settled on.

It was the early days of fall. The warm air was undercut with a cool breeze; an omen of the seasons to come. You put one earbud in and tucked your hands in your pocket as you walked along the winding path. The leaves were still green and lush and the air smelled of pollen. You stopped on the small bridge that crossed the small creek at the centre of the park.

You continued on and checked the time. It didn’t matter, you had the whole day to yourself. Like Steve said, think about now, not then, not later.

You came out onto the New York sidewalk and neared the curb. You looked both ways before dodging between the stagnant traffic and hopped up onto the pavement on the other side. You neared the short iron fence that edged the patio of the coffee shop and joined the queue of people as you looked over the menu.

Hmm, a rose-infused latte was different. You’d never thought of flowers in your tea but you never were overly creative. You ordered, the largest size despite your troublesome bladder, and waited for your turn to grab your cup from the ledge. It was busy that day and you hid against the wall to keep out of the way of others.

Your name was called and you grabbed your cup. You went to a table and slid your phone from your pocket. You snapped a frame of the drink and typed beneath it before you hit send. ‘Today’s little thing is actually a large :)’.

You pushed your phone back into your pocket and wove your wait to the exit. You were stopped as your name was called for a second time. You turned as a blonde haired man neared you. He was oddly familiar. Startlingly, actually.

Steve Rogers was calling your name. Not such a strange sight in the city but you’d never chanced to see him beyond a television screen or magazine cover.

“Hey, what are the odds?” He showed you the phone in his hand; the picture of your drink stared back at you. “I never thought--” He smiled. “Oh, this is weird, isn’t it?”

“Steve?” Your eyes were round and your mouth fell open. “You’re… oh, wow, I…”

Someone else called his name and he peeked over his shoulder. “I’m up. Would you… would you wait for me?”

You nodded dumbly and watched him stride through the crowd to take his coffee from the counter. He gave a thanks and dropped a large tip into the jar. You watched in shock, barely stepping out of the way of another customer.

He passed through the opening of the fence and neared again. You snapped your mouth shut and swallowed. Your mouth was dry but the steam rising from the cup warned you it was too hot.

“How… how did you know it was me?” You asked.

“Well, I heard your name and then saw you with your phone and uh, well, the message was just confirmation of my suspicions, really.” He grinned. “Which way you heading?”

“Um, I came through the park,” You pointed across the street. “Probably not your neighbourhood.”

“I can make a detour,” He waved you towards the street and you hid behind a car as you waited to cross.

He stepped out first and caught your hand before you could fall behind. He pulled you to the other side and you nearly stumbled onto the curb.

“Sorry,” he let go suddenly, “You know New York drivers.”

“No, it’s… fine,” You walked beside him as he neared the archway that fronted that end of the park. “I’m just… I’m gonna be honest I’m a bit shocked right now.”

“I know it’s weird and a bit… unethical. At the centre, we’re not supposed to associate with callers outside but… it’s all just a happy coincidence, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I, uh, suppose,” you lifted the cup and inhaled the sweet aroma of sugared petals, “but I’d hate to get you in trouble.”

“Nah, it’s fine, if you don’t tell, I won’t.”

“I… can delete your number.” You offered, “You didn’t have to--”

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” He eschewed, “It’s fine. I just… you didn’t seem to like calling the hotline but I didn’t want you to get lost in the shuffle.”

You chewed your lip and played with the strap of your purse. You let out a breath, heavy and anxious. You’d never expected to meet Steve. More so, you didn’t expect him to be THE Steve Rogers. You had spilled out your ridiculous insecurities to him. God, he must have thought you were so pathetic.

“I’m fine,” you said, “I would’ve… been fine. I was just in a bad spot.”

“So…” He walked close to you. His cologne smelled of sandalwood. “How’s work?”

“It’s work,” you shrugged, “Wait, you said you did security. Jesus!”

“Well, I do, in a sense,” he chuckled, “You know they really don’t encourage me telling people I’m an avenger at the centre. It kinda shifts the attention in the wrong direction.”

“Hmm, I guess it would,” you muttered, “Well, thank you, for all your help. Really, you have helped.”

“I never expected… I don’t know what I expected,” he went on, “how I pictured you. I just didn’t-- Not that-- I don’t mean...”

He shut up and cringed. He looked around at the trees and let out a sigh.

“You’re right, this isn’t a little thing,” he mused, “it’s beautiful out here.”

“Yeah,” you said rigidly and raised your cup to your lips and tasted the foam, “I guess I’m just happy it isn’t raining on my day off.”

📞

Steve walked you to the other side of the park and you left him there. You finished your latte in the block before your apartment. You were still shaken from the meeting. The chance of such an encounter was so vast you hadn’t even thought of it. You had built yourself up to talk to a stranger on the phone and leave it at that, not to face him and your problems all in one. You were embarrassed despite Steve’s friendliness. You couldn’t help but feel the taint of pity.

You tried to leave your shame on the street. You went up to your apartment and slid the chain into place. You turned on some music and did your leftover dishes, a sense of accomplishment as you wiped down the counters afterward. The rest of the day was yours to do with as you wished. But you were restless. The feeling that made you want to pace and chew your nails.

You flipped on the television and opened your phone to stream some mindless video from Youtube. You settled on a compilation of clips from a reality show and slumped onto the couch. As you laid back, your phone shook your hand and a notification flashed across the top.

‘Hope you got home safe.’ Steve’s message disappeared just as you read it. You pulled down the status bar and hit the bubble to open the chat.

‘I did. Thanks. Funny running into you. Hope the rest of your day is good.’ The message was clunky and awkward. The whole thing was weird and you just wanted to forget about the run-in.

‘So what else are you doing on your day off?’ His next message made your phone buzz and you blinked at it. He never really said much in return, just things like ‘that’s awesome’ or a few emojis. You thought of how excited he had been to see you. You were sure he talked to hundreds of people so why?

‘Watching TV’, you answered and put your phone down on your stomach. You tried to focus on the television but your phone rattled again.

‘I don’t want to overstep but can I ask you something?’ You were on edge as you read the message three times over.

‘Okay.’

‘You think you might want to get coffee again next week?’

You hesitated. Was he asking you out? No, that couldn’t be it. Was he merely checking in to make himself feel better? That was a better explanation. Believable. You let the screen turn black and thought. You could say no. Probably should.

You unlocked the phone as you heart pumped in your chest. It was Steve Rogers. What harm was there in saying yes? Maybe, for once, you would actually make a friend.

📞

You met at the same coffee shop. This time you sat down and got a scone with your tea. Steve got a coffee and nothing else. It seemed an afterthought as he only watched you pick at the crumbly dessert.

“Are you okay?” He asked as you sipped from your tea.

“Yeah, just… I’m sorry, I’m just a quiet person.” You shied away.

“That’s fine,” he said, “I understand, you don’t talk to many people outside work.”

You frowned and sat back. He was right but it didn’t make the truth easier to hear. You nodded and shrugged.

“I don’t mean it in a bad way. I guess I have the same problem, you know. I spend most of my time with my team members or talking to the press.” He rested his hand around his mug. “It’s nice to have someone who isn’t tied up in all of that.”

“I mean… I’m just… me.” You ran your nail down the side of your cup.

“And? I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. I think you’re too hard on yourself.” He insisted.

“Well, you barely know me,” you countered.

“I don’t? How many people know about the dark times? How many people do you let know?” He asked.

“It’s not… it’s not their business.” You crumpled the napkin and tossed it on the empty plate.

“It might help if you opened up more. You said you were lonely--”

“I was having a bad day,” You snapped. “Steve, I don’t… I didn’t come here to talk about all of that.”

“Then why did you come?”

“Because you asked me to.”

“And why do you think I asked you?”

You shrugged and crossed your arms.

“I asked you because I see what you can’t.” He said evenly. “You’re kind, you’re smart, you’re beautiful to be completely honest, and you won’t let yourself see it because the world hasn’t been all sunshine and rainbows for you.”

“I-- I--” You sputtered and looked around. “No.” You stood and gathered up your dishes. “I gotta go.”

“You’re doing it right now,” He stood too and blocked your way, “Trying to run from the little bit of good.”

“I don’t know you. The only reason we ever met is because I was going to--” You gulped, unable to force the words out. “I think this was a mistake.”

You pushed past him and planted your dishes on the counter. You stormed out as Steve followed and the door jingled behind you. He trailed you across the patio and onto the sidewalk. He caught your arm and pulled you back.

“I’m trying to help you,” he hissed.

“I don’t need you to save me, Captain,” You yanked your arm away. “I’m not one of your missions.”

His brows drew together and his lips turned down. He had never looked anything but happy, neutral at worst.

“Fine, go,” He threw up his hand, “But I’ll be around if you need me. When you need me.”

You spun and stomped away from him. You were humiliated, assured of your worst suspicions. You were a pet project to him. He was trying to fix you. Another rescue mission for the First Avenger. Next time, you would listen to your gut and say no.

📞

Work. Again. It was dead and Marcy, your manager had you dusting the racks for the fifth time that day. You dragged the duster over the already shining rod that held hangers of dress shirts. You felt your phone vibrate and ignored it. Likely just another reminder to claim your daily prize in that stupid word game.

You kept on as you were, staring out the windows of the store front onto the shining street. Your phone buzzed again and you peeked over at Marcy. She was reading one of her novellas behind the large counter. She never hid it very well but really didn’t seem to care either.

You slid your phone out and moved onto the next rack. It had been over a week since Steve had messaged you. He had tried several times after the tense coffee date but had given up at your silence.

‘How are you?’ He asked as if you hadn’t been ignoring him. You pushed the phone back in your pocket and it vibrated for a third time. You should just block him already. You took it back out and ready the next message. ‘I know you’re working but you can answer me.’

You squeezed the phone and blacked the screen. You put it away and returned to your futile dusting. The door opened as you neared it and you stopped short as one of the only customers of the day stepped inside. You gaped as Steve looked around with a grin.

You heard Marcy clear her throat and you looked over at her. You shifted on your feet and lowered the duster.

“Hello, sir. Welcome to Silkz, how can I help you today?” Your throat was tight as he focused on you.

“You know, I need a gift for… a friend but she’s a bit hard to please.” He said.

“Oh,” Your lip twitched as you tried to smile. Marcy was always nagging you for your resting bitch face. “Well, what were you thinking, sir? A scarf? Some jewelry?”

“Maybe a dress. I always tell her she needs to change things up and I think it would be a good switch up.” He replied and stepped a little closer.

“Over here,” You said abruptly and backed up as you waved to the wall behind you. “This is our new collection. Lots of reds this fall.”

You glanced at Marcy as she smiled primly and her eyes fell back to her tale of romance. Steve followed you closely as you touched a long-sleeved burgundy dress with a pleated skirt.

“This should be plain enough that it should fit anyone’s taste. Of course without being too plain.” You offered. “Did you know what size you would need?”

“Oh, she’s about your size,” Steve said, “And I was thinking something less… well something with more skin.”

You nearly tripped over your own feet as you tried to keep your distance from him and found a dress in a lighter shade of red with cutouts at the sides and a slimmer silhouette. You grabbed it and held it almost like a shield. He barely even looked at it.

“I’m sure it will look wonderful on her,” he remarked, “Can you show me the jewelry? I might get her something to go with it.”

The jewelry stand was in the other corner. Far from Marcy as she kept to one side of the counter and hunched over her book. You rounded a table of folded slacks and led him to the rack. He followed and stopped beside you as he took a necklace with a feather ornament and pretended to look at it.

“You haven’t been answering me,” he said under his breath.

“Yeah, might be a hint,” you retorted, “what are you doing here?”

“Checking in. Making sure you’re okay… since no one else knows how you can get.”

“Do you realise how fucked up this is?” You hissed. “I… You can’t bring those things up.”

“You won’t. You can’t outrun it forever. I see it in you. You told me yourself. You’re desperate for a change.” He hung the necklace again. “I can change everything for you.”

“What do you want?”

He looked down and took a bracelet from the rack; a silver band with a red rose ornament. He held it out to you. “I want a change too.”

You took the bracelet and backed away with the dress folded over your arm. “Is that everything?” You said loudly.

“For now,” he answered as he kept close and you kept away by rounding the other side of the counter, “I think she’ll love it… it’ll look great on her.”

“I’m sure it will,” you said as you scanned the items. “How are you paying, sir?”

📞

The rest of your day dragged by. There were no distractions to keep you from thinking of your run in with Steve. It was as if he had flipped a switch. No long the cheerful, concerned man, there was something sinister behind his otherwise caring words. The way he’d watched you, followed you so closely, the mere tone of his voice. He was angry and you couldn’t help but feel you had asked for it.

You left reluctantly as Marcy locked up. You caught the train, watching over your shoulder. You had never told Steve where exactly you worked, you realised as you swayed with the movement of the subway. There were dozens of clothing stores in the city, how had found yours?

You got off and climbed the steps to your apartment. Would it be too much to file a report? He hadn’t done anything but bought some merchandise from the store you happened to work in. But he had offered his number to a caller at the centre and he had pursued her beyond that. Yet, you had agreed to it all.

You were, as ever, so stupid.

You stepped off at your floor and your hands fumbled with your keys. You couldn’t calm down. There was something so off about all of it. Steve showing up, the way he spoke to you, the way he looked at you. You pushed inside and swung the door shut before you could process what awaited you within.

Steve leaned against the back of your couch, arms crossed, as he watched you expectantly. Your hand lingered on the door and he shoved himself away from the sofa. He tutted his warning.

“You won’t make it down the hall but I don’t mind a chase.” He sneered. “You’ve already taken me on one, haven’t you?”

“I don’t--Steve… whatever it is you think…”

“I think I’ve only tried to help you. I think you just like to be the way you are. Low, sad, pathetic. I can make you more.” He neared and you pressed yourself to the door. “I will make you more. I will make you happy.”

“Please,” you whimpered as he took your purse from you and placed it on the table beside the door.

“Shhh,” he ran his fingers along your cheek, “You know what they always told us at the crisis center; you gotta hit bottom before you can lift yourself up.”

You shuddered as he dragged his thumb across your lip.

“This is your bottom, sweetie.” His hand dropped to your shoulder and ran down your arm. He took your hand and pulled you away from the door.

He led you around the couch and sat, taking you with him. You tugged against his grasp and he squeezed your hand painfully.

“Sweetie, I just got us a nice bottle of wine.” He smiled. “Take a breath, have a glass, relax. We’re going to figure this all out. Together.”

Your lip trembled as your thoughts bloomed all once; the confusion, the fear, the despair bubbled up and left you speechless. He replaced his hand with a glass of wine and held your fingers around it. He let go gently and you held onto the glass if only to keep from falling apart entirely.

“Go on, have a drink.” He urged.

You looked at the dark red alcohol. You were never much of a drinker. Your father had been a lush. Your heart sank as you found it impossible to move. He pressed two fingers to the base and pushed it up until the rim was at your lips. You drank and he tipped the glass until you emptied it. When he let you lower it, you were dizzy and your stomach burned.

You placed the glass down and fell back against the couch. You touched your hot cheeks and he leaned in as he watched you. “The alcohol will add to the effect but I’ll call someone before it’s too late.”

“Effect? What?” You touched your forehead and your lashes fluttered. You tried to breathe away the wine but the spinning only got worse. “What did you do?”

Your vision was blurry as you looked over at him. He put his phone to his ear as his other hand rested on your thigh. “Hello? Yes, I need- I need help.” His voice was frantic, perfectly believable. “My girlfriend, she-- she’s passed out. I found her on the floor… I think she took something. Please, I can’t get her to wake up.”

He played the part so well you even believed him as you were drawn deeper and deeper into the void. Your eyes rolled back as you heard him give your address and you slumped against the arm of the couch. Your limbs were heavy, your head heavier. You couldn’t resist the warmth that surrounded you.

📞

You woke up to steady beeping. The sterile smell of the hospital made your nostrils dry and you groaned as you fought to open your eyes. Your entire being hurt; inside and out. The bright lights made your head throb and a figure beside you moved closer. Your vision cleared slowly as you looked at Steve and he took your hand in his.

“I’ll get the nurse, sweetie,” He said. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“Wha-- St--” Your tongue felt thick in your mouth.

He left you and returned with a woman in green scrubs. She made a note on your chart and looked at the machines you were attached to. She was gone just as quickly and left you with Steve who once more clung to your hand.

“I’m here for you, sweetie. We’ll get through this together?”

“What… what did…” You mumbled, “what did you do?”

“I saved you,” he rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb.

“Alright,” The doctor swept through the open door, “Now, it’s good to see you stable, miss. That was a close one.”

“I--” You blinked as you tried to pull your hand from Steve’s but were too weak to do more than moan.

“We’ve managed to flush the drugs out of your system and your vitals have returned to normal. It is hospital policy to keep you under surveillance for three days but given Mr. Rogers’ crisis training and reputation, we feel it in everyone’s interest to release you to him.” The doctor explained. “We’ve explained to him the precautions to be taken and you should be confident in your safety under his care. Furthermore, we will have you return for some counselling when you are up to it. Again, you must already be aware that Mr. Rogers is also capable in that aspect.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Steve said as you stared.

“Please,” You said weakly.

“Remember, Mr. Rogers, your check-ins. Every four hours.” The doctor took a paper from his clipboard and handed it to Steve. “She’s lucky to have you.”

The doctor left and you watched helplessly. How could they release you to this stranger? How could they not keep you under their own supervision? Were you just another bed to be freed up?

You grumbled as you tried to sit up and only did so as Steve helped you.

“I’ll get a chair and then we can get you dressed, sweetie,” he said, “you’ll be safe with me.”

📞

The world passed by you as you watched it through a haze. You couldn’t seem to break through the frosted window before you. Steve moved you from the hospital to his car to his building to his bed. You barely recalled any of it as you reclined against the fluffy pillow. You were trapped in a limbo; never quite awake and never quite asleep.

And then you were painfully conscious.

Steve was beside you. The room was yellow with soft sunlight. You felt lighter but not free. A thick arm slung across your middle and he drew you close. He rolled you against him and you pushed against his chest as you faced him. His blue eyes were on you, deep and dusky.

“I called your work. Let them know you were on an indefinite leave.” He bent his arm behind you as he hugged you to him. “Permanent if you want.”

“Steve, what are you doing?” You breathed.

“Changing your life. That’s what you wanted,” he brushed his nose against yours, “you don’t have to work. You can stay here and find your happiness. With me.”

“No, please, Steve…”

“You said you were lonely, you hate your job, that you’re running out of time,” his breath glossed over your lips, “I can fix all that.”

He lifted his head slightly and kissed you. You curled your fingers and clawed his shoulder. He rolled you onto your back as his tongue poked at your lips. You resisted but he was persistent. You let him in and moaned around the intrusion.

He pulled away and framed your face with his hand as he gazed into your eyes. “I meant it when I said you were beautiful,” he purred, “The moment I saw you, even the moment I heard your voice, I knew I needed you. I knew I was the only one who could make you happy.”

“Steve, you don’t know me…” You pushed against him. “You don’t even know me.”

“No one does because you won’t let them,” he traced your hairline with his fingers, “But I’m not going to give up. Ever.”

His hand closed around your chin and he kissed you again. He rocked his body against yours. You wore only a tee shirt and nothing else, the cotton thin between your bodies; his entirely naked, you realised.

His hand slid further down as his lips moved against yours. He pushed his hand beneath your shirt and groped your chest with a hum. You winced and sank your head deep into the pillow as you tried to turn away from him. He circled your nipple with his thumb as his cock twitched against your thigh.

He forced his knee between yours and you gasped as you ripped your lips away from his.

“Steve, what are you-- please.” You begged.

“I just want to love you,” He murmured, “You deserve to be loved.”

His hand crawled down your stomach and nestled between your legs. You flinched and your thighs tensed against him. You wriggled and crashed his lips into yours again. You tried to pull his hand away from you but he was too strong. You suffocated beneath him and against his will.

His fingers slipped along your cunt. It had been more than a year since you’d been touched. It was intoxicating despite your reticence. You shook and as his fingers flicked over your clit and you gasped into his mouth. He rubbed you until your arousal slicked his touch and you grabbed his arm as a tickle spread down your legs.

He turned his hand and pushed his fingers inside of you. He bent them and pressed his hand to your bud. He parted from your lips and rested his cheek against yours. He rocked his hand and the pressure inside of you mounted in his grip. You arched your back and bent your legs around him. You couldn’t resist the sudden flutter deep in your core.

You slapped your hand against his neck and your fingers curved against his skin. You gulped at air as your orgasm rose against your will. Your muscles tightened all at once and the pleasure flooded from you suddenly. You drowned in it and let it carry you away.

Slowly, he removed his hand, leaving a trail over your stomach as he pushed your shirt up. He shifted and his cock prodded your pussy. He prodded your entrance and lined himself up he cupped your breast. He pushed inside a little at a time. Your nails sank deeper into his flesh and your other hand went to his shoulder.

He pushed himself to his limit. You had never felt so full. He tilted his hips and you moaned. You turned your head back and forth as he began to thrust; carefully, decisively. Each time, your voice grew louder.

He caught your chin and kissed you. He planted kisses along your cheek and down your neck as he continued to rock into you. His pace built, little by little, and the bed quaked beneath your bodies. Your hands fell to the pillow and you clenched it as your body melded with his.

You forgot all that had brought you there, the worries that hung over you endlessly, the fears, the doubts. You whined as another orgasm burst within you and you squirming beneath Steve. He grunted as he sped up, fueled by your cries, and pushed himself up as his hips moved against you.

He stared into your eyes as his sweaty blonde hair fell forward and his square jaw clenched. He saw back as he grabbed your hips and tilted you against him. He snarled and his motion turned stunted and strained. He growled through his teeth as he came, his nails cut into your flesh and he filled you with cords of hot cum.

He stilled you and let out a long breath as his shoulder curled forward and he hung his head. He squeezed your hips and caressed your thighs. He lowered himself over you and turned onto his side, keeping you against him as he lingered inside of you.

“I’m happy,” he uttered, “Are you?”

Your lashes fluttered as hot tears rose in your eyes. As reality sunk in like concrete and you stared over his shoulder at the wall. You were numb yet your heart swelled in terror. You nodded as a tear leaked from the corner of your eye.

“Yes,” you lied.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #fic #dark!fic #dark fic #marvel #mcu #dark steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader smut #dark!steve rogers x reader #one shot

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carnationcreation · 4 years

Note

reggie x bandmember!rapper!reader

where the reggie has a crush on reader and tries to win them over.

just a suggestion

TITLE: Distractions (JATP Reggie x bandmember!reader)

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Request: Yes!

Prompt/summary: Reggie has a crush on the lyricist behind the bands raps and verses and he’s trying desperately to win her over

Word Count: 1,614

Authors note: I don’t really know too much about rap so I decided to relate it more to music but she still basis her lyrics in rap so I hope this is okay!

Being the newest member to the band left me under a lot of pressure, I had to switch between different instruments and learn the parts in case something happened to one of the members so I could go on in their place. So I was like an understudy for the Phantoms as well as one of their lyricists. If Luke or Julie were having trouble getting inspiration they’d come to me and I’d help them work their way through their writers block by making them listen to famous rappers like Tupac and Eminem. After a while their minds would be focusing on the rhythms and the melodies instead of just words, because you can’t have a good song unless it flows like a stream.

The problem that seemed to keep arising was Reggie trying to get my attention.

“(Y/n) watch!” Reggie said before he swung his bass over his back making it loop around so he could catch it again.

“That’s cool Reg but we’re supposed to be working,” I responded before turning back to my notebook on top of the piano, missing Reggie’s pouting face.

He was so sweet to me, but sometimes his antics would interfere with my work. I knew he wasn’t trying to be annoying but after a long day of learning songs and writing with Julie it can feel like he’s just trying to distract me just because he can.

“Alright so then there’s a key change up to a D major,” Julie said as she played the chord effortlessly on the piano, “And then I’m thinking Luke will come in on the melody-”

“(Y/n) look what I made you!” Reggie said running up to the piano, he placed a piece of paper in my hand, looking at me expectantly. I smiled at the picture of a hand turkey colored in with different colored crayons.

“Wow, thank you Reggie,” I said and turned back to the piano with Julie.

“He really doesn’t stop does he?” she said quietly.

I nodded, “It’s endearing most of the time but right now I just really want to get this done.”

“I need a line right here, I just can’t get it right.”

Julie and I continued writing, even leaving me a space to do some free verse that acts as a counter melody as well as to pick up the tempo for the final chorus. It wasn’t too long after that when Reggie tapped me on the shoulder.

“What Reggie?” I said annoyed.

“Oh,” Reggie said, “I wanted to ask if you were ready for our bass lesson but I’ll wait.”

My face softened as I saw the time on my watch, “I’m sorry Reg I lost track of time.”

He nodded and led me over to the stools he had set up, I grabbed his bass out of the stand and plugged it up to the amp beside the piano.

“I’m sorry I annoy you all the time,” Reggie said quietly.

“What do you mean Reggie?”

He sighed, “I just want to talk to you all the time I just forget that you’re doing important stuff for the band.”

I smiled, “Reggie you could never annoy me, or at least not to the point where I wouldn’t like you.”

“So you really did like my hand turkey?”

I laughed, “Yes Reggie I promise I really did.”

Reggie grinned widely and pulled me into a tight hug making me giggle.

“Are you gonna keep it?”

I picked up the paper and walked over to the piano where my binder full of song lyrics and sheet music sat, I slid the paper into the front clear pouch on the binder so everyone could see the turkey right on the front of the binder.

Reggie threw his hands up in the air, “Yay!”

“Alright we seriously have to get to work now,” I laughed.

_________________________________

After a sold out concert at the Orpheum the night before Julie decided we should take the day off and have a movie marathon. Julie picked out the first 3 and chose all disney movies. We were watching the Little Mermaid when I started to feel myself getting mind numbingly bored from having to sit still on the couch next to Reggie and a sleeping Alex. I reached down to my feet and into my backpack to pull out my binder to scribble a few lyric ideas down before I forget them.

“What are you doing?” I heard Reggie whisper.

“Writing down some lyrics,” I said.

He scoffed, “Do you ever stop working?”

“Do you ever stop trying to get my attention?” I tease him with a smirk.

“Whatever, but you should take a break. It’s our day off you shouldn’t be working.”

“Depends on what you want to call working. Lyrics are just part of my thoughts for most of the day, I’m much more productive writing down wording and rhymes and beats from my head that can be molded into a new song otherwise I’d just forget them and be frustrated when I don’t have anything new.”

“Well, I guess I think about bass lines a lot so I see what you mean,” Reggie shrugged.

We sat quietly for a few minutes, as the credits started to roll I looked over to see Luke picking up Julie to take her to bed as she had fallen asleep. Alex stirred and stood up before walking outside to the studio. I’m assuming he went to sleep on the couch in there.

“Come on,” Reggie said, standing up.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

He smiled, “To get your thoughts on something else for a while.”

He grabbed my hand and led me out the front door, we walked out of Julie’s house and down the street. We finally hit main street and he pulled me over to a street vendor selling hotdogs and grabbed two for us before sitting down on a bench to eat.

“I’m surprised after how you died you still want to eat these,” I laughed.

“As long as it’s not from the back of a car I think I’ll be fine, they’re good!” he said before biting into his, “So what kind of lyrics were you writing down?”

I pulled my backpack off my shoulder and pulled out the binder, Reggie smiled and pointed at the hand turkey that was still on the front.

“Skies grew darker,

Current swept you out,

Inside this Eden,

No one hears us shout.”

“That’s kinda depressing,” Reggie said.

I laughed and tucked it back into my bag and put it at our feet.

“So those lyrics are just constantly in your head?” he asked.

“Yeah, I guess where I’ve read and written so much poetry and listened to so much music all the time it’s just something that comes naturally to me,” I shrugged.

“Can I read through them?”

“You can read through it any time you want Reggie,” I said, I finished up my hotdog and crumpled up the wrapper.

“Really?” he asked.

I giggled, “Yes Reggie I trust you with my deepest, most depressing lyrics.”

He laughed and grabbed both of our wrappers and walked over to the trash can with me tagging closely behind him.

“I gotta head home, it’s starting to get late,” I said.

Looked at his watch, “Oh yeah, I’ll walk you home.”

“You don’t have to.”

Reggie scoffed sarcastically, “Can’t let a pretty lady walk home in the dark.”

I took his arm in mine, “What a gentleman.”

We walked down main street and finally turned to the street that led into my neighborhood. Reggie stopped and pointed at random things he saw along the way, and when he wasn’t doing that he was singing songs and dancing to them while walking along beside me trying to get me to laugh.

“Reggie quiet down my parents are gonna hear and ask why I’m outside with a boy.”

“Not just any boy, a formerly dead boy,” Reggie smirked.

“Shhh!” I stepped up to the gate and unlatched it, letting him and I into the garden.

“Come on (y/n). What if we rewrite the stars!” Reggie sang.

I rolled my eyes, “I shouldn’t have shown you that movie.”

“It’s catchy!” he said.

“Reggie,” I said grabbing his arm lightly and making him face me, “please be quiet for a minute.”

Reggie nodded but still giggled as I pulled out my house key and he followed me on to the porch.

“I had fun Reggie, this gave me more song ideas.”

“Well that’s good at least,” Reggie smiled, “can I drag you out tomorrow to annoy you some more?”

“For the last time Reg, you’re not annoying,” I giggled.

“If you say so,” Reggie said as he turned to walk away.

“Reggie?” I said. He turned around and I placed a quick kiss on his cheek.

Reggie smiled widely and grabbed my waist, pulling me in and kissing me on the lips this time. After a second we pulled away, “So, tomorrow?”

I smiled and shook my head, “Pick me up in the morning, and bring your skateboard.”

He grinned and turned. He ran down the steps and out onto the street, eventually tripping over the shoelaces of his converse and falling to the ground, “I’m okay!”

I laughed and turned to unlock the door. When I got to my room and pulled out my binder to put on my bed I began to mumble to myself, what if we rewrite the stars.

The rest of the night was filled with the memories of the night replaying in my head and the lyrics that poured out of them and on to the paper.

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

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bopbopstyles · 4 years

Photo

TEMPTATION IN ITALY

RATING: R/smut (overstimulation, light spanking, bit of choking, pure tender filth)

WORD COUNT: 9.4k

CATEGORIES: fratboy!harry, italy!harry

MASTERLIST | INSPO TAG

a/n: it’s a Temptation extra for @bfharry ‘s boyfriendathon!!!!! i’ve been mulling this concept over since i finished Temptation, and I’m so excited to finally have it written and done. s/o to liv for the push to write it, @harrysclementines for checking out my italian and inspiring many parts of this, and to my best friend a***** for being the one to take me to lucca, where this fic is set. harry’s house in this fic is based of hers.

if you haven’t read TEMPTATION, you can do so here: part one | part two | part three

“Cherry,” he mumbled, her nickname falling from his lips, dripping with desire as he stepped towards her. “You have to let me buy this.”

She leveled her gaze to his, trying to play with him, her favorite activity. “And why is that?”

His fingers ran over the see-through lace, the pebbles of her nipples visible through the material. “Because I can’t promise I won’t rip it off you later, and I know how much you hate it when I ruin your underwear.”

Nora’s breath caught in her throat at his words, body keening under the his touch. “I’ll allow it,” she replied, voice hoarse in her throat. “As long as you let me choose where you fuck me.”

Harry buys Nora some lingerie and it leads to some overstimulation on countertops in Italy

pls reblog and share with your friends 💕

Nora’s eyes swept across Harry, the sight of him curled up next to her on the bed bringing a lazy smile to her face as usual. Sometimes she was overwhelmed by how much she simply wanted to spend every waking moment with him, even doing things as simple as this: lying in bed next to him, the sheets pushed down to his waist, one of his arms across her torso, his face pressed into the pillow next to her, breath fluttering from his lips.

The lack of air conditioning in Italy had taken her a while to get used to, but she had finally adjusted and now loved lying in bed, completely naked with Harry, breeze from the open window next to the bed blowing across their bodies. Their other friends had been there for the first two weeks, Nash, Niall, Maddy, Lauren, Taylor, and a couple of Harry’s other frat brothers who Nora had gotten to know in recent months. It was August and they’d all finished their summer internships and decided to take advantage of Harry’s family house in Lucca, which was empty and waiting for them. Everyone had packed up left the morning before, and now it was just her and Harry left in the big house for another week. After that, they were heading back to campus to move into their rooms for senior year and back to reality.

Being there in Italy, with him, the simplicity of life, made her love him more than she could ever imagined and the last thing she wanted to do was leave.

Suddenly, she felt pressure on her side and Harry’s eyes were fluttering open, his green irises meeting hers. “Morning, baby,” he mumbled, lifting his head to press a kiss to her shoulder. “Been awake long?”

She shook her head and rolled over so she was facing him, and traced a finger down the side of his face. A lazy smile flickered across his lips at the feeling. “Not too long. Using the time to watch you without you getting all antsy.”

He tugged her body flush to his and she giggled as he licked at her neck. “Mhm, you’re sweaty.”

“H, that’s gross.”

“No it’s not, just sweat.” He licked at her neck again and she squirmed. “You sweat when I fuck you and have no problem with me licking at you then, so what’s the difference?”

How did the words fuck you make her want him immediately. “Your brain is disgusting,” she said, pushing at him. “Come on, I’m hungry and it’s your turn to cook breakfast.”

His hands pulled on her as she tried to get up, but she slipped through his grasp and he fell back against the bed. “You just like watching me make you breakfast.”

Nora shrugged, and pulled an old DSig shirt out of their chest of drawers, which had become a mixed mess over the weeks. He had ended up in one of her shirts without realizing it, much to the amusement of Nash and the boys, but Nora found it endearing, watching him pull at her oversized button down before realizing the reason it didn’t fit right was because it wasn’t his, but not taking it off. “You’re a good cook.”

Finally, Harry pushed at the sheets and stood up, his completely naked body drawing her eyes in. “Thanks, baby. Pass me some pants?”

She threw a pair of briefs at him and he pulled them on, the material barely covering any of his body, but she didn’t mind in the least. “I’ll start the coffee.”

“As if you know how to work the machine.”

“It’s not my fault it’s all in Italian!”

He laughed and followed her downstairs to the kitchen. She flicked the radio on, Italian ballads filling the room. She loved the kitchen, the simple white cabinets and granite countertops, wooden table and chairs pushed to the side, an island that she usually sat at as Harry cooked. There were windows all the way around, which she opened and let the sunlight in, birds chirping outside.

Harry’s family home was up in the hills outside Lucca, a narrow one-way road winding past houses and an abandoned old church. The house itself was white with multi-colored stone, tall and slim-shaped trees outside next to a small fountain that had a table next to it where they ate dinner most nights. Inside, the house was two stories plus a basement, five bedrooms to properly house Harry’s extended family during the holidays, and two small living rooms overstuffed with books and comfortable couches for mid-afternoon naps. Outside, there was a pool that overlooked the rolling green hills, and a bathhouse with an extra bedroom. All in all, it was heaven and Nora never wanted to leave.

Harry hummed along to some Italian Top 40s song while he scrambled some eggs and toasted two pieces of toast and Nora put together some fruit to go along with it, grabbing some fresh peaches from the bowl. Harry’s neighbor had a peach tree in their front yard and had brought by some the previous day and they were delicious. She managed to get the coffee machine working after bugging Harry for reminders on which button did what, and poured two cups for them, setting one next to the stove for Harry as he finished up cooking.

They ate outside on the patio, a pair of sunglasses balanced on Harry’s curls as they basked in the morning sunshine. “It’s so quiet,” he said to her after setting down his fork, a finished plate in front of him. “Like our friends, but it’s nice to be just us for a bit.”

“Mhm,” she hummed, scooting closer to him on the bench at the table so he could place his arm around her shoulders. “Now I can love on you any time I want.”

“Oh?” Harry ducked down and looked at her, a coy smile on his face. “And you couldn’t before? I seem to remember plenty of loving—“

“Shut up,” she said, swatting at his chest, and he chuckled. “They just always made fun of me, or you. Now no one is going to be whining about us making out in the pool.”

Harry kissed her temple, and then lifted his coffee cup to his lips. “Right about that, love.” She picked up her abandoned peach and took a bite, the juices dribbling down her chin. “What do you want to do today? Swim or go into town?”

Nora considered the options, before deciding on town. “Can we rent bikes again? And I want a gelato.”

“Sure, baby. Want to go get changed and I’ll wash up?” She nodded, pressing a kiss to his lips chastely before scampering into the house. She took a quick shower, wanting to start the day fresh, and put some sunscreen on her skin which had grown darker from the sun over the past few weeks. Harry came into their room as she was fumbling through their clothes, trying to find a pair of specific pair of shorts.

“Have you seen my denim shorts?” She asked him, not even looking up. “The ones with the longer fringe at the back?”

She felt his hands on her hips, his chin coming to rest on her shoulder. “No, not since you wore them last. Gotta be here somewhere—you didn’t put them in the wash, did you?”

His longer hair tickled at her cheek and she smiled at the feeling. “I didn’t. Fuck—I’ll find them. Go get ready, you menace.”

With a squeeze to her hips, he moved away to the bathroom so he could wash his face and brush his teeth. Nora found her shorts at the back of the drawer, and pulled that and a white tank top on, keeping her clothes simple and light so she didn’t sweat through them immediately. Harry ended up in a white t-shirt and grey trousers, a hair clip attached to the waist for his longer locks, a handkerchief tied around his neck that she tugged on to bring his lips to hers.

He fiddled with her hand on the center console as he drove into town, the radio on low volume filling the silence in the car, windows open as they passed houses on the hill. She watched the sights go by, wondering how such a beautiful place could exist. They parked the car right outside the old city walls and walked the distance to the bike shop where they had rented them before.

“Due biciclette per favore,” Harry said to the man in the shop. Nora thumbed through a guidebook on the counter as Harry spoke to the man, their conversation in Italian passing right over her head.

“Per te e la tua ragazza?” The man replied.

“Sì.”

“Lei è piuttosto bella.”

“Tieni le mani lontane da lei!” Harry laughed as he said the words, some joke probably passing between them.

“Sì, sì, certo. Lei è troppo buona per te, lo sai.”

“Lo so.”

Nora swung a leg over her bike and pushed her sunglasses into place, waiting for Harry to get himself together behind her. “What were you two talking about?” She asked as he adjusted his pants so they didn’t get caught on the chains.

“You,” he responded nonchalantly.

“Me?”

He looked up at her and nodded. “He said you were gorgeous, and I told him to keep his hands off my girl. He said you were too good for me.”

Nora scoffed and pushed off the street, pedaling with Harry next to her. “Got that the wrong way ‘round.”

He gave her a smile, and then moved into tourist mode, pointing out the landmarks he had shown her. He knew how much she loved history and that she wouldn’t mind hearing it all again, so he told her stories about the old jail cells and the city walls, the wide gravel tree-lined paths full of other pedestrians and dogs on leashes. They talked about Italian politics, since Harry actually read the newspaper and kept up on the news. He told her old stories about his family visiting and Harry getting lost in the streets, before finally finding his mom at a gelato shop where he went because he wanted something sweet. When they had made a loop around the city, they turned into the streets, carefully maneuvering through the crowds and avoiding the streets with the expensive shops, where people gathered. Instead, they stuck to the back roads and they’d stop every once in a while so Harry could take photos on a film camera he had bought before they’d left the States. He wanted to take it up as a hobby, and thought where was a better place to try it out than Italy?

Nora sent photos of the yellow and tan exteriors of the buildings to send to her mother, one in an endless stream of photos that made her mom jealous of her trip. When they got hungry, they stopped for gelato, and sat outside at a shop next to a bunch of kids who were speaking rapidly in Italian. Harry kept stealing bites from Nora’s, but she shoved his hands away, reminding him that he got his own for a reason. His fingers were sticky when he pulled her chin towards him to kiss her, and his lips tasted like his lemon gelato.

They ditched the bikes in favor of walking around, and they wove in and out of the shops, Nora trying on clothes that Harry picked out before objecting to the price and refusing to let Harry pay for them for her. They tried on sunglasses at one of the street vendors and Harry got some, a pair of brown wide-frame glasses that he tucked into his shirt. He bought a leather notebook that resembled the ones that he wrote lyrics in, and Nora decided to get one of her own, telling Harry she needed to start journaling to remember all the good memories they shared. He took photos of her against a pink building, smelling flowers in a courtyard, and just walking in front of him. In his eyes, it was impossible to not feel beautiful, Nora thought to herself.

Somehow they ended up in an Italian lingerie shop, much to Harry’s joy. “Baby, pleaseee…” He held a white lace set up in front of her, the material mostly mesh and lace, basically full see through. Most times, Nora might have refused him, but after a day spent solely in his company, Nora was wrapped around his finger, just as he was around hers. And the look in his eyes of desire and mischief had her smiling at him.

“Fine,” she replied, and tugged him back to the dressing room with her, much to the amusement of the saleswoman.

He stood outside of the room while she changed, pushing off her shorts and shirt and toying with the delicate material. “Got it on?” He asked, voice low through the flimsy door.

“Almost.” She tugged at the bra straps, situating the cups on her chest. In the mirror, her hair was a mess of sweat and wind, cascading around her shoulders in curls, her face flushed from the sun. She pushed a strand behind her ear and hoped Harry would like it. “Okay,” she said, unlocking the door.

“Thank god, didn’t know if I—fuck.” His words stopped the moment he stepped inside and set his eyes on her body. Quickly, he shut the door behind him, locking it, their bodies close in the narrow dressing room. Nora stood there as his eyes criss-crossed over her body, taking in the sight in front of him. Her shy smile, her sunkissed skin, brown eyes that stared up at him. “Cherry,” he mumbled, her nickname falling from his lips, dripping with desire as he stepped towards her. “You have to let me buy this.”

She leveled her gaze to his, trying to play with him, her favorite activity. “And why is that?”

Harry’s lip tucked between his teeth at her words. “Yeah? Want to choose where I take you?” She nodded, and his fingers drifted over her skin, barely touching it and raising goosebumps in his path. “It’s a deal, baby. Now take it off so I can buy it and get you home.”

Harry followed Nora on her heels, her laughter bouncing off the walls of the house as he kept trying to grab at her hips as she moved through the hallways. Her curls bouncing as she swept your head back and forth, scampering away every time he got closer to her. Seeing her dark hair flutter against the white walls had Harry feeling like he was in a movie, moving in slow motion after the love of his life, barely able to keep her in his grasp.

They didn’t bother closing the doors or the windows in the bedroom, Harry pressing her against the wall with a gasp from her mouth. His lips danced down her neck, sucking and pulling at her skin, his name wet on her tongue. Hands pulled at his hair and fell to his shirt, her fingers scrambling push it up before he leaned back to help her, his handkerchief going with it. When it was off, her mouth attached to his skin, hot lips searing through Harry’s nerves, a rush of adrenaline at the feeling of her on him.

“Nora,” he begged, fingers digging into the curve of her ass, tugging her hips towards his. Without hesitating, her teeth brushed over the mark she had made on him, making him hiss. “Baby, please.” His words were raw and rough, desperate to have her. He could never get enough of her, the way she made him feel, the sounds she made in his arms, the way she looked up at him under long eyelashes, a coy smile that begged for more.

“I need to go change into my new lingerie,” she said, nudging at his chin. It was a soft movement, one that just asked him to stay close to her, and he loved it.

“I know I said that,” he replied, pulling at her skin with his hands, loving how she gasped at the cold of his rings, “but now I really don’t give a fuck.”

“Hmm,” she murmured, running a finger down his chest. “But I do.”

With a sigh, Harry let go of her waist, letting her drop to the ground. She kissed his jaw before turning away, the bag from the lingerie store in her hands as she went into the bathroom. Harry ran a hand down his face, heart fluttering in his chest. He just needed her. It was a carnal need, something beyond reason, the very same feeling that had lingered inside of him since the moment he first touched her. It never left him—the desire to have her close, to touch her skin, to make her moan his name. He was addicted to it, and he had no plans to quit.

He fell to the bed, head hitting the pillows, and stared at the closed door. Behind it, he imagined Nora naked, fumbling with the straps and the lace. He easily conjured the image of her in it earlier and he cursed himself for not taking her in that dressing room. Who gave a fuck if anyone heard them.

“Taking forever in there,” he called out to her, getting antsy from his spot on the bed. He had propped his head up on the pillows, giving him a perfect view of the door.

“Somebody’s impatient.” Her voice was music to his ears, sweet and rough.

He scratched at his hair, pulling at the long strands as he waited. “What can I say, love? I’m—holy fucking hell.”

She kept doing that, interrupting his stream of words by opening the door and standing there, naked and bare for him except for the flimsy material covering her body. The white lace clung to her skin, the picture of innocence that he knew she was anything but. Somehow that made it even more alluring, the dichotomy of the delicate lace and the coy smile on her face. Harry sat up and let his eyes trail over her skin, the rise and fall of her curves, the way her breasts strained against the edge of the bra, gaze following the V of the underwear to where he wanted her most.

He swallowed with difficulty, throat suddenly dry at the sight of her, sunlight from outside making her skin glow in front of him. “Cherry…” He trailed off, unable to finish his sentence, completely overwhelmed by her.

But then she opened her sinful, delicious mouth, and set Harry’s body ablaze. “I want you to fuck me on the kitchen counter.”

He practically choked. “What?”

She shifted, moving towards him like an animal prowling its prey. “I want you to fuck me on the kitchen counters. The same ones where you make me breakfast every morning. You said I could choose where, right?” When her fingers drifted across his forehead lightly, Harry keened into her, desperate for her touch. She bent her head and whispered low in his ear, “Well I want it on the counters. Every counter.”

That had Harry in motion. He stood, pulling her up so that her legs were around his waist, feet clasped at his lower back. Her hands threaded through his hair and pulled, making his neck tip back as she kissed him. Harry moved through the house blind, unable to see anything but her, but somehow he made it down the stairs without tripping, through the narrow hallways, and finally to the kitchen, the afternoon sunlight hitting the tile perfectly. The windows were open and you could hear the breeze, the soft chirp of the birds, the hint of cicadas. He was going to give her her wish—to fuck her on every one of these counters, fill this kitchen with memories of her moaning against him, let anyone who neared the house hear her call his name.

He dropped her to the counter closest to him, her bare bottom except for the lace panties she wore hitting the smooth granite with a thud. “Want me to fuck you on the counters?” He mumbled, lips tugging at hers, hands cupping her face as he kissed her. Without even meaning to, he pushed his hips into her clothed center and he was suddenly thankful for the lower height of the counters, because it meant she was the perfect height for him. “I can do that, baby.”

Nora’s lips were a dark pink when he pulled away, eyes blown out with desire, hair a mess behind her shoulders from his hands. “H,” she breathed, pushing at his pants, “please.”

“‘m coming, love,” he told her, pushing off his trousers so he was in nothing but his briefs. Then, he dropped to his knees. He wanted to taste her first, he decided. And then he was going to make her come until she physically couldn’t anymore, barely giving her time to recover. They’d talked about it before—overstimulation. She had mentioned that she liked it, like being able to barely think as he touched her, like it when he fucked her from one orgasm to the next without pause. He had been rolling it over in his head, considering a time to experiment with more, to see how far she could go.

Now, he decided, was the time.

His fingers danced up her legs, and Nora gasped at the feeling. “As much as I love this set, it needs to come off now.” He punctuated the sentence with a searing tug at her inner thighs with his lips, sucking her skin into his mouth and making a pop sound when he let go. It made her squirm on the countertops and her hands were beginning to get wet from sweat, the combination of the heat and the feeling of Harry’s hands on her making her body temperature rise.

The lace slid against the granite as he pulled it off of her, Nora lifting her hips just enough for him to be able to clear the curve of her ass. When her panties were on the floor, Nora let her thighs fall open and she just sat there, skin aflame from Harry’s gaze.

“Beautiful,” he breathed, fingers brushing around her pussy; a whine leaving her lips that made Harry smile. “Squirmin’ for me, hmm?”

He knew she loved it when he talked, she’d told him many, many times, and so he had thrown his filter out long ago. Now, he said whatever popped into his brain, and usually it was a mess of compliments and teases about how much he wanted her, because none of it was lie. Hands clasped around the back of her knees and tugged so that her pussy was on the edge of the counter, the cold granite on her hot skin. She looked utterly delectable, pink lips waiting for him, the soft rolls of her stomach fluttering with each breath, her breasts heaving in her bra. “H…oh, god.” When his lips attached to her clit, one of her hands threaded through his hair and tugged his face closer to her, the stubble on his chin brushing across her slit. “Fuck,” she panted, rolling her hips for more of the roughness, needing anything she would give him.

Harry kneaded her hips in his hands, loving the weight of his rings on her smooth and sensitive skin. “Feel good?” He asked, licking over her nub and listening to her keen, wet and breathy echos of yes floating through the air. Then he couldn’t torture her anymore, the sight of her hole clenching around nothing just sending him into a tailspin. So he moved one of his hands and pressed his index finger to her slit, the callused touch rough against her but just what she needed. She sighed at the pressure and Harry watched in delight as her wetness let him slide right in, all the way up to the ring on his finger.

She bucked against him, demanding more, and Harry dove back in, pumping in and out of her with his one finger and curling inside of her as he devoured her clit with his mouth. He rolled her nub with his tongue and then sucked, letting his teeth brush against it and smiling as she shook against him. “More,” she begged, pushing towards him, her one hand on the counter barely able to support her quivering body.

So he added a second finger, his middle finger joining his index inside of her, and she sighed at the stretch. “Fucking drenched,” he mumbled as he watched her eyes flutter shut at the feeling. “So wet for me, baby. Can you hear it?”

All she could do. was nod, the sensations overwhelming her—his fingers inside of her, the slickness of her juices as he pumped hard and fast into her, curling at her rear walls. The way he played with her clit, torturing her as he licked over her, sucking and pulling, the stubble on his chin rough against her skin. It was fucking heaven, and she never wanted it to stop. “Gonna come,” she whined, clenching around his fingers and in his hair, fingernails scraping against his scalp.

“Want it,” he mumbled against her clit, the vibrations making her back arch. “Come for me, princess. Please? Want to feel you come on my fingers. Want to watch it drip out of you. Come on, baby.”

Nora couldn’t control it anymore, and she was coming in a second, her body shaking and stuttering on the counter, hand sliding for hold on something, but failing. Harry held her hips in place so she didn’t slide off the counter, and anchored her there as he pumped her through her orgasm, licking at her clit until she was begging for him to stop. Her walls fluttered around his fingers and he loved it, but what he loved even more was removing his fingers from her and the strands of her come that he saw when he pulled away. He moved his lips from her clit to her slit, and licked over her hole, the sight of her quivering exactly what he wanted. When he pulled his lips away he watched a bit of come drip from her hole, weepy and red, and could barely look away.

Then he moved his fingers to her mouth, tapping them to her bottom lip to ask her to open. Which she did. Happily. She bobbed her head like she would on his dick and Harry about came right there and then. But he couldn’t—he had a task at hand that he hadn’t completed.

His head swiveled around the kitchen, counting quickly. “There’s four open counters in here,” he said eyes finding hers again. “Want you to come on every one of them.”

Her eyes widened, processing what he was saying and asking of her. Permission for him to go more intense than he had in the past. But instead of fear of discomfort running through her body, all she felt was desire. “Only if I get you inside of me for all of them,” she replied, taunting him, seeing how long he could last for her.

“Oh baby,” he said, coming to full height and brushing her sweaty hair off of her forehead. “As if I’d pass up the opportunity to feel you come around me.”

In an instant he was moving her to the next counter, the dreaded coffee machine to the right of her and the fridge on the left. Their lips found each other in a mess of teeth and tongue, Nora’s hands pushing at his briefs and Harry unclasping her bra, desperate to see her bare for him. When her breasts fell, he traded her lips for her nipples, rolling them into his mouth. At the same time, Nora had gotten his briefs down enough for his cock to poke out and her hand was on him immediately, tugging at a pace that was going to make him come if he didn’t stop her.

“Nor,” he said, pulling on her hand so it wasn’t on his dick, but instead on his back. “Goin’ to make me come if you keep that up.”

“Then how about you fuck me?”

She knew how to push all of his buttons and adored doing it. It drove Harry crazy, that she could make him beg for her with just a handful of words—the control she had over him was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before, and he loved every second of it. “Legs up, baby,” he told her, tapping on her knees. She followed his directions immediately, shifting closer to him and pulling her knees up and clasping her feet around his middle.

Harry knew he wouldn’t need much lubricant, but he decided to add a bit more just so he didn’t hurt her—he knew she was sensitive. So he let spit fall from his lips, the slickness of it landing right on his dick. He pumped it one, covering his length, and then he nudged his tip into her. Nora gasped his name immediately, and his eyes moved to hers, not wanting to miss his favorite moment—when he pushed into her. Which he did, in one fluid motion that had her curling into him.

She was wet, insanely wet from her orgasm and the build-up, and tight, her walls clenching around him as he sat inside of her, flush to the hilt. Nora’s arm wrapped around his shoulder and pressed her head to the crook of his neck, unable to hold herself up anymore, which Harry didn’t mind in the slightest. He loved it when she hung onto him, her trust in him enough to let him control their movements. Harry’s hands moved to her hips and he held them steady as he pulled back and slid back into her, a guttural groan leaving his lips at the feeling of her fluttering around him. “God, baby, you feel so good. Made for me, you know? How did I get so lucky?”

His words were a mess and he didn’t care; he knew she wouldn’t judge what he said. When her fingernails dug into his skin he took it as a sign for more, and so he set about his task—making his girl come again. She liked it fast and hard, loved it when he hit her back walls and made her scream. So he would give her exactly what she wanted.

Harry drove into her at a pace that would probably leave bruises on her thighs, but she didn’t care in the slightest. She panted into his ear, his name echoing around them as his dick pushed in and out of her. Ever since they’d gone bare the first time they had never gone back, them both adoring how close it made them feel. And in moments like this, with Nora draped over his body, all of her weight balanced on him, him pushing into her fast and deep, it was as if they were inside one another.

When Nora clamored at his back, hands pulling at his taught skin and a scream ripped through her throat, he knew he found her g-spot. “That it, baby? Hmm?” She nodded furiously into his skin, teeth coming down on the muscle of his shoulder and Harry grunted from the feeling. “’S mine, yeah?”

“Yours,” she moaned, and then she rolled her hips in a slight circle and Harry faltered at the feeling. “Yours, Harry, I’m yours.”

His head hung on her shoulder, and from there he could cast his eyes down and see his dick entering her barely, their skin slapping against each other. “Holy shit,” he said through clenched teeth. “I don’t know how much longer I can hold off.”

Nora took the situation into her own hands, finding the ability to hold herself up. She pulled away from his neck and rested on one hand, shifting her weight so that she could slither her hand down the length of her body. Her fingers rubbed at her clit and Harry was captured by the sight, her fingers rolling across her wetness as he slammed into her, chasing their orgasms. “I’m close,” she said, walls bearing down on him.

“Me too,” he said, head tilting back. “I’ll come when you do.”

She nodded, knowing how much he loved it when she came and that it usually made him come immediately. It was just one example of how much his body was obsessed with her, his own desire intrinsically tied up in hers. “Come on, love,” she looked up at him, capturing his attention. “Make me come?”

He pulled her lips to his and drove into her at a pace unmatched by his previous one, slamming into her with his full force, sliding into her so fast he could barely keep himself up. He was pushing his weight into her, the hand not on her waist clenching the edge of the countertop. “Come for me, baby,” he mumbled, “want to come in you. Please, Nora, please.”

With one more circle of her hand on her clit she faltered, a scream of his name ripping through her lips and he let it, loving how it reverberated in the room. That she didn’t have to hide it, that he could have it all. She clenched around him and it made his breath choke in his throat, hands curling as he came. Ropes of come inside of her, coating her walls, panting against her lips as he kissed her messily, just wanting to be close to her.

When he regained his normal breathing and feeling in his body, he leaned back slightly, not enough where he pulled out from her, but just enough to where he could look at her. “Gonna move ya,” he said, arms coming around her back. She nodded and held onto him like a koala as he lifted her, moving to a countertop a few paces away, on the other side of the stove. He stayed inside of her the whole time and even though he was softer than before, he wasn’t fully soft because the feeling of her walls fluttering and his tip shifting inside of her as he stepped had him hissing through his teeth.

“Sensitive?” She asked, running a hand through his hair.

“Worried abut me?”

She smiled at him, a soft one full of love and adoration. “Not worried. Just want to make sure it’s not too much.”

“Fuck no,” he replied, shaking his head. “’S perfect. Gonna make you come around me as I get hard,” he told her, and she bit into her lip at the thought. “Like the sound of that?”

“Yeah,” she said, elbows resting on his shoulders. “Like it a lot.”

Harry kissed her, licking into her mouth and savoring the taste of her, sweet like honey on his tongue. The way her hands pulled on his hair, not minding that it was sweaty and a disaster, just wanted something to hold onto. “Wish we’d brought some toys,” he mumbled when he pulled away, the idea of making her come with him inside and vibrator on her clit suddenly filling his imagination.

Her eyebrows shot up. “Why didn’t you?”

“Had to fit all your goddamn swimsuits into our bags that didn’t quite fit, did it?”

Nora laughed, her eyes crinkling at the sides. “You love my swimsuits, you ass.”

She was right. He loved them, the way they barely covered her body, the different colors and patterns on her skin that he got to pull off after their time in the pool—or if he was lucky, while they were in the pool. He decided he’d see if he could fuck her in the pool tomorrow. He planned on taking her every day of the week while they were here. “I do, baby. Love ‘em almost as much as I love you.” Then, he pushed two of his fingers into his mouth, wetting them on his tongue and letting her watch him, eyes never leaving him.

With that, his fingers pushed between their hips, her softening her back so that his hand could slide against her. And he set a brutal pace immediately, the wetness from his spit meaning he could move against her furiously. The feeling of her clenching around him as he began to draw her closer to her high, her body beyond sensitive after two orgasms, was enough for him to be nearly hard immediately. “H,” she breathed, head lolling back on her neck at the feeling of him rubbing against her.

She was shaking as he rolled her clit between his fingers, and then made a counter-clockwise circle, finger tips brushing above her slit where they were connected. That spot in particular made her moan, a desperate sound that made him want more. He was desperate for her to come, wanting to see her fall apart around him again, the sight one that he wished could go in a museum. Every museum in Italy should have a photo of her when she came.

He made a mental note to grab his camera the next time they had sex—he wanted to immortalize the sight.

When she sharply yelped, hips bucking into his, his eyes flickered across her. “Too much?”

She shook her head, lifting it so she could look at him. “Need more. Please, H.”

“What do you need baby?”

Nora’s hand drifted from his bicep to his neck, securely fastening to its side, the pressure making him zero in on her. “Need you to fuck me again. Can you do that?”

“Fuck me.” His groan was drawn-out and low in his throat. “Yeah, I can do that.” It was like her demand had made him hard again, his body wanting to do nothing less than please her. “Want me like this again, angel?”

“Mhm,” she hummed, unable to form words, but the sound was enough for him to know she did.

“Your wish is my command.” And then he drew back, using their come from before and the slickness of her juices as lubricant as he slid back into her, the feeling of him moving inside of her making her let out a sudden cry. After just sitting inside of her, moving against her was everything he needed. “Goin’ to go slower, okay? Need to last for you.”

She nodded furiously, body tightening in his hold. Her fingers pressed into his throat more and he didn’t even think she was doing it on purpose, but he wasn’t complaining. Her thumb was on his Adam’s apple, her other fingers clasped around the back of his neck. He shifted his hand away from her clit, ignoring her whine, and adjusted her hand so that her palm was situated squarely around the front of his neck.

Her eyes widened. “Too much?” He asked, checking in with her as he returned to her clit, rubbing against her bud with his thumb.

“No,” she replied, tensing her hand experimentally. “It’s hot, actually.”

Harry smiled, pulling her clit with his thumb and forefinger in response and her hips jumped. “I like it.”

“Just...stop me if it’s too much, okay? I don’t want to hurt you.” Her voice was sweet, and Harry loved it—how she wanted to make sure she didn’t hurt him.

“I will,” he promised. She squeezed again, a bit tighter that time, and he let out a strangled moan. He’d never tried this with anyone else, but he had to admit, he liked it more than he had expected. He pulled his attention from her hand around his neck and to where his dick pushed in and out of her, trying to hold back his tempo so he could last for her. Instead of going fast, he settled for going deep, pressing every inch of her pussy, and rolling her clit fast. The combination had her squirming, hips almost pushing away from him. “Good, baby?”

“So good,” she breathed out, squeezing happily at his throat. “Might come soon. It’s so much—fuck, H—I can’t…”

The sight of her eyes fluttering and breasts bouncing as he pressed into her was tattooed into his brain. “That’s it, love. Come for me.”

Nora swiveled her hips slightly, chasing his touch, fingernails cutting into his skin at the back of his throat. “I—“ she choked on her words, head falling back as she came, it creeping up on her this time. The intensity of it, though, was unmatched, her whole body shaking so much that Harry had to pull her against him and hold her so she didn’t bang her head. He continued to push into her slowly, eyes clenched to try and hold back from coming at the feeling of her holding his dick inside of her like a vice.

When her body had calmed, Harry still hadn’t stopped, making good on his promise to fuck her through her orgasm and into the next one. “Can I bend you over for the next one?” He asked her, lips on her ear as he spoke, words low and rough.

“Y—yes,” she said, words chalky in her throat. They both needed a different position, something to change things up.

So Harry pulled out of her, both hissing from the loss of him, and he quickly carried her to the second to last countertop. She stood unsteadily on her feet, so he held her fast, not wanting her to fall. Nora bent over on her own, the cold granite on her bare breasts making her gasp. Harry ran his hands down her back, pushing her hair to the side so he could see her skin. “You okay?” He asked, kneading her sides to calm her down.

“Mhm,” she hummed, reaching her hand back to hold onto his. “Want you.”

The desire she had for him matched his, and it was in moments like these that he was thankful for it. He brushed his dick over her slit, it weepy and puffy from her multiple orgasms, their mixed come coating her skin. With his eyes on her face to make sure it was okay, he pushed in in one motion. The new angle had him hitting a different spot inside of her, one that made Nora dig her fingers into Harry’s hand and her toes curl. Harry’s head flopped back, panting heavily from the feeling. “So wet,” he rasped, “feels so good. Shit, baby, you feel so good.”

He swept his hands across her skin before he started to push in and out of her, his pace picking up as he fucked into her. She was still reeling from her last orgasm, much less the two before it. There were two more that he wanted from her, two more that she said could give. He wanted them here, like this.

All of a sudden, her hand moved his, relocating it from her side to her ass, his palm landing on one of her cheeks. “Want me to pull on you here?” He asked, kneading into the skin. He loved her ass, loved how they pressed against his hips when he pushed in and out of her. “Want me to spank you, baby?”

“Please,” she pleaded, voice raw. “Please, please, please.”

They’d done it a few times before and each time she’d loved it and he hadn’t gone too hard. So he decided he would give her a few, just to help bring her closer to her orgasm. “Okay, angel.” He had his rings on, so he decided not to go too hard, not wanting to hurt her. After rolling her skin in his hand, pulling her towards his hips as he pushed into her, he raise his hand and let it fall. The slap made her mewl, a delicious sound that had Harry bending and pressing kisses down her back. She shivered under his touch and Harry thumbed at her sides, trying to settle her. “Good?”

“Good,” she answered. She pushed her hips insistently against his and hummed.

“Sensitive?” He wanted to know where she was, how to make her come, how to give her what she needed.

“Yeah.” Her words were shaky as she tried to focus on him. “I—I don’t know if I can do two more, H.”

Harry didn’t mind, he just wanted as much as she could give him. “That’s okay, love. I’ll take as much as you can do.” With a tender kiss to her spine, he pulled her hips towards him, creating a bit of space between her thighs and the cabinets below them. Just enough to be able to sneak his hand between them and rub at her clit.

It had her shrieking, the sudden additional pressure sending her into overdrive. Harry was about there himself—he was an orgasm deep and barely fighting off a second one, trying to focus on anything other than his own pleasure to try and hold himself at bay. Instead, he watched her face contort with pleasure, her flushed cheeks rest on the counter tops, her arms unable to keep her body up anymore. She was holding onto the side of the counter for dear life as he fucked her, and he just hoped he wasn’t hurting her, pushing her too far. “Are you okay?” He asked softly, checking in with her.

She bobbed her head in a nod. “Good. Close. Can’t—can’t hold on.”

“Don’t need to, baby,” he reminded her, rubbing his fingers into her shoulder blade to release some pressure. His hips pushed into hers at a steady pace, his other hand forming circles on his clit. Another spank, he decided, would send her over the edge.

Perhaps it was the shock of it, or the intensity of the pleasure coursing through her, because she came immediately. She choked on air, knuckles holding onto the counter top that they turned white. Harry pulled his hand away and shuddered, barely containing himself as he fucked her through it. He truly didn’t know if he could last enough for her to come again. He was dribbling pre-cum into her, weeping into her, his body taught and ready to come if anyone asked him to. Could barely hold himself together, much less for long enough for her to come again.

So he bent down, pressing his chest to her back, loving kisses to her skin. “What do you want to do, baby?”

Shakily, she uttered a single word. “Another.”

He picked his head up, shocked. He thought it was too much for her. “Really?” She just nodded, and so he pulled out of her slowly, the ridges of his dick brushing against every nook and cranny of her pussy. She whimpered at the emptiness, but Harry picked her up, her pliant in his arms. “Gotcha, love. I’ve got you.” Her cheek rested on his shoulder, exhausted, fingers crawling all over him like she always did when she was fucked out. “Are you sure you want to keep going?”

“H,” she mumbled, “told you I want another. So give me another.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at her bossiness, it never failing even when she was tired. Or perhaps it was stronger when she was like this. “Anything for you.” The last countertop was the island, and so he could lay her out flat, let her body stretch in front of him. Her hair cascaded across the granite and he didn’t know if there was a single more beautiful sight in the world. “I don’t know how much longer I can hold off,” he expressed honestly as he thumbed at her clit, the feeling making her hiss.

“Give me whatever you have left,” she said, reaching for his cheek. Softly, she brushed a thumb across it, and the tenderness of the motion grounded Harry.

“Love you so much,” he breathed out as he looked at her. “So much that I don’t even know how to express it.”

A tear leaked from the corner of her eyes and Harry brushed it away. “Love you too,” she told him. “Just as much.” Her fingers pulled at his hand that was resting on her belly and slowly she kissed each of his fingers, a smile drifting onto his face.

Outside, the sun was setting, and the orange hues dances across Nora’s skin like a painting, coating her in evening light. She was breathtaking in front of him. “Come here,” he mumbled, reaching for her, “want you close.”

Shakily, she pressed herself up towards him and Harry helped her. As much as he loved seeing her stretched out in front of him, he wanted to hold her for this last one, to have her as close as possible. He gathered her up in his arms, and then he nudged his tip, which was so sensitive that the mere touch of her slit made him growl, into her. She scratched at his shoulder blades, angry red marks that he would look at later left on his skin as he pushed in fully.

Harry bit onto his lip, it being the only thing that could anchor him. Just one more, he reminded himself, and then he could come. She needed one more.

“Not going to last long,” she mumbled, her words wet on his neck as she licked at his skin. “Too sensitive.”

He swept her hair into a ponytail so he could smooth kisses across the top of her shoulder. “Me either.”

Her knees squeezed at his hips, anchoring him against her as he pushed into her. She was wet and hot and clenching down on him so tightly that Harry was panting each of his breaths. He was going tor remember this for the rest of time, he thought to himself, this feeling of her around him. “H.” His initial was a prayer on her lips, uttered over and over again as he drove into her. His hands held her close, covering her in his touch, pressing her as close as he could get.

They were making love, sex long forgotten, focused only on how they felt for each other. Nora pulled his lips in for a kiss and they lost themselves in it, passionately nudging at one another with tongues and teeth. Harry pulled on her bottom lip and she giggled, before surging forward, kissing his hot and heavy.

It was overwhelming, the feeling of her everywhere on his skin. “Love you,” he mumbled, thoughts spiraling, “love you so much. God, love you, Nora. Love you. Fuck, I love you.” It was all he could process, the only words he could conjure up.

She didn’t care though, she just wanted him. As he rocked into her, she held his head close to hers, their foreheads resting against one another. She could feel her orgasm rising inside of her, it barely far away after how many she had experienced. Her body was exhausted, but yet she wanted one more, she constantly wanted more with him, for it to never end. This feeling of being absorbed in his body, the closeness of him to her, the way he touched her and said her name and panted in her ear as he pushed into her. “Kiss me,” she whispered. “Kiss me and I’ll come.”

Harry found her lips immediately, reconnecting them in a promise. And when he did, Nora lost it, her body shuddering and sighing in his arms, legs shaking around his waist. She was pliant, putty against him, sinking into him, and he loved every second of it.

And that’s when he let go, coming inside of her harder than he ever had before, unable to hold back for one more second. He couldn’t move against her and just held her to him as he came, painting her walls with ropes of come that left him with a growl in her ears. It overtook his entire body, the feeling of coming inside of her after waiting for so long, his bones rattling from the sensation.

When he finally stopped, they were both shaking from sensitivity and the nips of cool air that passed through the room, nighttime settling outside. “Want me to pull out?” He asked, not knowing which would hurt more—being in or out of her.

“No,” she said, shaking her head against his chest, where she rested. “Just…stay.”

So he stayed there, holding her to him, still inside of her, as they both caught their breaths and came down from their intense highs. The cicadas chirped and trees rustled, the sounds of the hills of Italy floating through the room. The air was heavy with sweat and desire, and Harry adored it because all he could smell was her—her sweat, her perfume, the shampoo they shared because he had run out. The smell of her on his skin, his favorite scent in the world.

“Okay,” she finally said, words dry on her tongue.

“Pull out?”

“Yeah.”

Slowly, he pulled his hips from hers and his dick left her. She felt empty without him there, but at the same time it felt good, her body finally calming fully. “How about a bath?” He asked her, brushing at the sweat on her forehead, pushing away her hair that fell into her face. “Soothe your muscles a bit.”

She nodded, and Harry picked her up, her body still sore and exhausted. With her attached to him, he climbed the stairs, both of them fully naked, but he didn’t have a care in the world. Just wanted to make sure she was okay. When they reached their room, he kicked open the door to the bathroom, and set her on the toilet.

“You should pee, angel.”

Nora nodded. They’d long ago gotten over the discomfort of peeing in front of someone else. He turned to the tub, messing with knobs to get the temperature just right as she peed next to him. “Want it hot,” she told him.

He looked back at her, her cheek resting on her palm as she watched him. “Like, really hot? Or kinda hot?”

“Somewhere in between?”

He didn’t know what that meant, but he’d endeavor to find out for her. The temperature was about as good as he could get it, he decided, and so he turned back to her. “Done?” She nodded, and he pulled her leg towards him. She flushed the toilet, and then let him tug her into his lap, her legs fastening around him again as he rose to full height. Gingerly, he stepped into the filling tub, and when he finally sat, the water reached midway full. “How’s that, baby?”

Her head rested on his chest, right over the swallows, and she sighed. “Perfect.”

Running his hands up and down her back to calm her, Harry thought about nothing but her. How she consumed his every thought and moment. Was that normal? Did everyone feel like this? “I’ve never felt like this about anyone else,” he mumbled, lips resting on her temple.

“Me either.”

“Is it…normal?”

Her fingers danced up his biceps, across his tattoos like she loved to do. “I don’t know. But I don’t want it to change.”

He reached forward and turned off the water, before settling back, letting her body follow his. She rested against his chest, fully flush against him. “I won’t let it.”

She kissed his swallow, a tenderness that made him almost sob. It was moments like these, the small ones of her curled up against him, their minds and bodies quiet, consumed in nothing but one another, that his love for her overwhelmed him. “Who thought I’d fall in love with a frat boy.”

Harry laughed, picking her wet hair up and massaging her neck. “Not just any frat boy,” he reminded her.

Nora shifted her chin up, so that they were looking at each other. “Harry, my frat boy.”

“Nora,” he replied, her name his favorite word, “my love.”

They sat there until the water grew cold, and then he picked her up and carried her to bed, not bothering to dress themselves in anything. And then they fell asleep, bodies intertwined in the sheets, the clear Italian night wrapping around them like a cocoon, not wanting to disturb them from their world. A world filled with nothing but one another.

#boyfriendathon #Harry Styles Fan Fiction #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles drabble #college harry styles #fratboy!harry fan fiction #fratboy harry styles #frat boy harry styles

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torielectra83 · 3 years

Text

Garak and the Jack Pack

Want to thank

@volixia669

for giving me the idea and motivation; this is the first fic I've posted and finished in quite a while. Also gonna tag

@unicorn-and-bluebells

and

@tirlaeyn

since their DS9-related posts are what helped lead me to this (if there's a DS9-related Discord I should join, let me know); note that I'm not much of a shipper (and I'm ace), so I wasn't quite sure how to approach the Bashir/Garak relationship; I just left it in the background (and the lizard man t-shirt).

“Oh, Doctor. There you are, and I….see you’ve brought company!” As he could see, Dr. Bashir was heading for the Replimat for his typical luncheon with him, only four other people were crowded around him. A skinny man with a mustache, a stocky older man with a timid expression, a rather gregarious-looking woman, and another woman who looked rather distant. “Oh, hello Garak. I’d like to apologize for being a bit late.”

“Oh, don’t worry, given what I’m seeing it’s very much a valid excuse.” Garak had heard about the other genetically-engineered people who’d been sent to DS9 to meet Dr. Bashir, but he’d been busy with orders at his shop; he’d been thinking about hiring someone to help out, actually. “Well, that’s Jack, Patrick, Lauren and Sarina. This is my...friend Garak, he runs a tailoring shop here on the Promenade.” “Oh, hi there, Hi. Uh, I gotta go over to the replicator, I’m starving over here.” Jack promptly excused himself, while Lauren made her way to Garak next. “Well, hello, Mr. Garak.” She promptly began her flirtatious attitude. “If you’re trying to seduce me...it won’t work. I am sorry, but I do not generally do one night stands.” Surprised and somewhat disappointed, Lauren backed away.

Patrick then approached Garak. “Do you make clothes?” “Yes, I do.” Patrick then grinned eagerly. “Good, because the clothes the institute gives us are too...itchy and things like that. Do you have softer clothes?” “Well, I can certainly make some? I believe Dr. Bashir said you need “sensory-friendly” clothing?” Bashir nodded; the term was an old term from pre-warp Earth. “I’ll do it at no charge; anyone who’s a friend of Dr. Bashir is a friend of mine.” He sipped his Tarkalean tea as Jack argued with the replicator over not being able to make something, while Lauren used the other one to replicate a bowl of Vulcan plomeek soup.

“And… Sarina, is it? I’ve noticed you haven’t said anything yet.” Garak simply saw the young woman turn, before holding up a PADD, with words written on it -- “I can’t speak, If you want to have a conversation with me, use this.” She promptly set the PADD down and continued to watch Jack’s tussle with the computer. “Sarina’s unable to speak, I can explain the whole thing later Garak.” Julian felt the need to pre-emptlively apologize for their behavior. “Oh, you don’t need to. I’m seeing people with a lot of potential here.” Bashir nodded. “So do I. And not many others do. That’s why I brought them here. I want to try and help them.”

“They seem to be helping themselves.” As Garak watched, Jack had finally managed to get something from the replicator that agreed with his standards -- a ham sandwich with Bajoran mapa bread. “So, this is the irrefutable Elim Garak, huh?” Jack asked. “Yes, and I see my reputation precedes me.” Garak said politely. “That’s right. Former intelligence agent for the now-defunct Obsidian Order, exiled and now working as a tailor here on DS9.” He said hastily before ripping into his sandwich. Garak raised an eyebrow. “And how did you find that out?” He asked, a tone of interest in his voice. “Oh, you’d be surprised what you can dig up on the extranet. There’s all sorts of unsavory rumors about you, like you causing a Cardassian doctor to break down by staring at them for four hours straight.” He promptly chugged from his cup of targ milk, before continuing. “And that your father was the head of the Obsidian Order, Enabrian Tain, and he got wiped out by the Dominion when the Obsidian Order and Tal Shiar teamed up, yeah, but they didn’t know the second-in-command of the Tal Shiar was actually a Changeling leading them right into a trap!”

“I...think we will have to pick up this conversation sometime later, Doctor.” Garak was getting rather uncomfortable at all this private information being practically shouted in the Promenade. “Oh, and I’ll see what I can do about those new clothes you requested, Patrick.” As Garak walked back to his shop, getting his mind off old events, he began pondering about what to do in the present. My orders are backlogged. I simply need help. As he opened his shop doors to see the current state -- half-finished orders, bolts of fabric all over and supplies in crates he hadn’t unpacked. “I must find someone to help me. I would get Julian but he’s too busy with being in Starfleet.” Garak sighed, and began getting back to working on an order.

Some time later...

Having returned from the Defiant, Dr. Bashir went into Garak’s shop, expecting to see it as it had been for some time -- cluttered and filled with things Garak was working on. He instead found it a hive of activity. Customers were entering and exiting, some waiting for their orders, others were looking at holographic models of new clothes to order. Bashir looked around in confusion. “What the…'' Suddenly, a figure blocked by their holding of several bolts of fabric maneuvered into view. “Look out, everyone!” Bashir knew that voice. “Patrick?!” “Oh, hi, Dr. Bashir.” Patrick didn’t even turn back as he carried the bolts into the back of the shop. “Patrick, how did you get here?” Bashir followed him, and realized the entire “Jack Pack” (as someone, most likely Quark, had nicknamed them) was working there. Patrick set the bolts down for Jack, who proceeded to start measuring what exactly was needed for that order. Lauren was busy inputting data of some kind into a PADD, while Sarina was sewing an order up. “Ah, Doctor, good to see you’ve returned home safe and sound!” Garak greeted him cheerily from behind his desk.

“Garak, what is going on here? How did they…” “Well, Julian. I saw their potential and I needed help. And so far, they have been excelling at everything they’ve been doing. I haven’t been this efficient, ever!” Garak looked positively delighted at this. It was rare to see him like this, and Julian was a noted expert on Garak’s emotions. “But...what about the Institute? And Dr. Loews?” “Well, she needed a vacation, and my offer to give them steady employment was something she couldn’t pass up.”

“Oh, well then. But...how are you so busy now?” Julian wondered. “Well, their brightness led them to not only help clear my backorders, but also introduce whole new product lines based on pre-warp Earth stylings. I will admit I knew little about it, but they have brought in several new kinds of clothing. Like this ‘tee shirt’.” Garak promptly held one up, the front reading “WWCKD?” with a small line underneath reading “What Would Captain Kirk Do?” “They’ve come up with several of these things. Like this one for the USS Voyager.” The shirt had a fictional flyer on the front with a picture of Voyager, underneath a “Missing: Reward” banner as if it were a lost dog. “We’ve also re-created other Earth fashions, from “bell-bottoms” to “zoot suits”. I must admit, they make most current styles of clothing look downright boring!”

“Yeah, Dr. Bashir! Here’s one we made especially for you!” Jack promptly handed him a T-shirt and headed into the front of the shop. Julian simply looked at Garak with an expression of disbelief. “Garak, we caught them trying to pass on classified information to the Dominion, and now, they’re recommending I wear a t-shirt that says ‘If lost, return to lizard man for reward’!” He said angrily, shaking the shirt in his hand for added emphasis.

“Doctor...these people needed another chance. One that nobody else was willing to give them. And another thing...they are still very useful analysts. They can predict trends, root out information and generally think far ahead of the game. To be quite honest, they’re the best analysts I’ve ever seen. “ Garak admitted. “Yeah, where else can you get a nice new pair of pants and information of Dominion troop movements?” Lauren commented.

“So...you’re basically running your own intelligence service out of this shop.” Bashir muttered, running his hand through his hair. “Well, there has to be a third-party intel service somewhere. With the Obsidian Order gone, there’s a market for it; we used to take on clients for analysis as a method for extra revenue. Strictly off the books, of course. So that’s what I’m doing now.” Garak reasoned. “And we aren’t just doing war intelligence either; we’ve got multiple projects for the Ferengi Alliance, the First Federation and the Gorn Hegemony for analyzing things like market trends, population censuses and whatnot.” Patrick nodded. “Yeah, Grand Nagus Zek and Ishka appreciate it! We got in touch with them thanks to the Ferengi maintenance guy, oh, what was his name…”

“Rom, that’s him. Real friendly guy. Came up with the self-replicating mines around the wormhole and keeps the holosuites running, real good guy.” Jack said at his normal speedy pace, before returning to his fabric measuring. Sarina promptly passed a PADD to Bashir, with a message reading “This is the best we’ve been treated in years. We’re working for ourselves, we’re constantly kept active, and we’re being paid 5 strips of latinum an hour.”

“Anyway, I’ll see you later, Doctor. We’ve got a lot to do before closing time today. After that we can meet at Quark’s, perhaps? Jack came up with this astounding holo-program based on another pre-warp Earth cultural thing, a “game show” called...Wipeout, yes. It involved picking the right answers and avoiding the wrong ones, it’s fascinating. But we have work to do and I’m sure you have work in the infirmary.”

Garak promptly ushered Dr. Bashir out of the store and back onto the Promenade. “...what just happened?”

#ds9 #dr bashir #garak #jack pack #one shot fic

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coffeecakefanfics · 3 years

Text

Rocky Mountain Skies

So I live in the 719 (CO) and I have been DYING to write about it so here’s this hot ass mess Also it’s my first multipart story on tumblr so bear with me (I’ll do a part two because omg)

Christmas is a magical time of year where families get together and revisit the political opinions of the past month but turn around and gift each other things. For the (L/N) family it was no different.

(Y/n) waltzed through the bullpen, coffee in one hand, phone in the other.

“Yes mom I’ll be home for Christmas,” she set her things down and sat at her desk, “No mom I already requested the two weeks off, I’ll be fine,” her sigh caught a few peoples attentions.

“Mom seriously, I get into Denver Sunday at 11, papa already said he’d come pick me up. . . yes mom I know how old he is but you don’t have time remember, besides it’ll be nice to see him. . . Mom I gotta go I have a meet- yes mom I’ll let you know when I get to the airport. . . Mom I have to go byeee” She clicked her phone and leaned back, letting out a long groan.

“Mom troubles?” Derek smirked.

“You have NO idea, I love her but she needs to chill,” she smiled.

“Well I think it’s sweet,” he toys.

“Of course you do, go to work,” she shook her head teasingly.

“All right, all right,” he laughed and walked off. (Y/n) stayed seated at her desk for a majority of the day, skipping lunch to finish files. People stopped by to make small talk while she worked, which she happily sat through. As the day continued on people started packing up their things to head home. It was quiet, the only people left were (Y/n), Spencer, JJ, and Hotch.

(Y/n) Stretched, popping her back, before getting up and walking around the desks. She set her hand on a chair and spun it so the messy haired man was facing her. She smiled at him brightly.

“Hey Spence”

“Hi, uh, is something wrong?”

“No I just wanted to talk to you is all,” she sat on his desk.

“About?” he looked at her curiously. He watched the way her hair set on her shoulders and framed her face, the way her waist dipped and hips bulged slightly, the way her thighs squished when she sat. He forced his eyes beack up to her and felt his face go a little warm.

“You know in the past three years I’ve been here I don’t think I’ve seen you take a vacation, and it’s none of my business if you save it or whatever but I was curious, why?” her face twisted in thought. He sat for a second and thought.

“Well I mean I go “home” occasionally, but I guess I’ve just never had a desire to go anywhere,” he shrugged, “I mean all we do is travel for work so I guess it never really crossed my mind” he smiled at her.

“Well, I uh, look I have an extra plane ticket back home. My ex was supposed to go with me but we broke things off a few months ago. So I guess I’m trying to say if you want to, you could come with me. I mean you totally dont have to and I mean-”

“To Colorado?” he quirked his eyebrow.

“I mean, yes? but only if you want to, I mean you’re my best friend, and closest one so I figured I’d ask before getting a refund,” she twisted her foot into the ground.

“Do I get a cowboy hat?”

She looked up surprised and laughed, “Duh”

“Then I’ll go”

The two weaved through the airport traffic. The building was loud and crowded and both were getting antsy. (Y/n) clutched her bag tight as they maneuvered through the crowds of people. Finally making it outside, the cold mountain air bit at their skin. A old man stood at the end of a row of cars holding a huge sign

‘(Y/N) (L/N)’ written in huge letters decorated the sign.

“Papa!” she cried and dropped her bags, getting swallowed into a hug that itself felt like home. Spencer stood awkwardly by watching the two.

“Where are my manners, My Name is Jim (L/N) but you can call me Papa. You must be Spencer?” The man, Jim introduced himself. He was only about 5′10″ and was clad in a red and white pearl snap with stained coveralls over top. His face was covered mostly by a long Beard and Mustache and he had a pair of glasses perched on top of his head.

“Oh, uh yes sir I’m Spencer,” He smiled at the man who held his hand out. Spencer shook it gladly.

“Well we need to get you kids home. Granny is making soup for dinner,” he bent down and picked up (Y/n)’s bag and rolled it to a old pick up truck, may be ten years old Spencer guessed. He stared at the backseat for a second, his stomach turned, maybe this wasn’t the best idea, maybe he shouldn’t have came, I mean I’m being so awkward an-

“Spence what are you waiting for?, hop in,” (Y/n) called from the back seat. He blinked a few times at her before jumping in and closing the door. She leaned over to him, “I didn’t want you to be alone back here,” she pulled back and smiled.

“Thank you,” he breathed a sigh of relief. As close as they were he had never met her family. He had spent countless nights sitting on her couch easting Chinese food while they finished files or watched bad movies but he still felt nervous being around her like this.

“So Spencer, where are you from?”

“I’m from Vegas,” he replied meekly.

“A gambler huh?” The old man grinned at him in the rear view, “you any good?”

Spencer laughed and shook his head, “I guess we’ll have to see,” he teased back. Jim laughed and smiled at his granddaughter.

“i like this one”

“You like him just because you’re bad at Texas Hold em” she playfully rolled her eyes.

“Hey whatever gets the money,” he laughed again. It was a laugh that filled you with joy. Spencer finally understood where (Y/n) got hers from.

“So Spencer, I know a feller like you can’t be single, so do you have a lady back in D.C.?”

“PAPA!” (Y/n) shrieked, “Don’t go running him off already, good god” she shook her head.

“What I’m curious, he’s a handsome man,” Jim grinned. Spencer was full on burning at this point.

“No sir, I’m single,” He almost mumbled out.

“You know who else is single. (Y/n),” Jim wiggled his eyebrows. (Y/n) glowed the same red that the poor man next to her did.

“Papa oh good god. Stick to breaking horses not my love life, and besides you’re gonna make him regret coming here before he even sees the ranch,” she rolled her eyes. Spencer actually laughed. The two of them were obviously close, it was . . . nice. It was a nice break from what they deal with every day.

The rest of the car ride went by semi fast, (Y/n) explained all of her plans for the two of them while they were here. She was almost glowing with excitement. The wooden fence that stretched along the property line came into view as the truck began up the drive. A gorgeous two story log cabin came into view behind a row of evergreens. The wood was a beautiful light brown, and towered over the yard. A old lady was standing on the porch dressed in a fleece nightgown and brown slippers. She waved as the truck stopped. The group jumped out and began grabbing bags.

“There’s my baby girl,” the woman hugged (Y/n) tightly. She had her same eyes. The woman stood maybe 5′2′ and had a pink and white fleeced nightgown on. Her grey hair fell in neat curls down her back. Her face was wrinkled and warm, the kind that you know showed so much joy in her younger years.

“And this must be Spencer, You’re even more handsome in person,” she cood at him.

“grandma!”

“It’s alright. Yes ma’am I’m Spencer,” he smiled at her, “It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” he grinned.

“Oh where are my manners, lets get you babies inside and warm,” she ushered everyone in. “(Y/n) baby your room is all set up, but um there’s been a change of plans,” The lady frowned.

“What Dawn is trying to say is that your mom and your stepdad are staying in the last guest room, and your cousin Rita is in the other”

“WHAT!” (Y/n) yelled. “Mom said her the Stepdouch were staying home for Christmas! I was promised to get you two to myself. And Rita!” she was fuming. Spencer set his hand on her shoulder, trying to bring her back to earth.

“We know baby but she insisted that you wouldn’t go see her if she stayed,”

“Of course not, not after what she did!”

“And Rita is your cousin, at least try to play nice,” Jim begged.

“No, Not after what they did!” (Y/n) was breathing ragged, anger radiating off of her body.

“Hey, uh why don’t you help me to my room?” Spencer forced her to look at him. She sighed and grabbed her bag.

“Okay” she grabbed his hand and began through the living room up the stairs. Spencer admired the “family” room on the balcony overlooking the living room. (Y/n) led him around the bend and over to the room. She popped the door open and let him inside. She followed and closed the door after her.

“So since my cousin Rita took the guest room we’ll have to share this one, I’m really sorry. I have an air mattress that I can sleep on and you can have the bed. This isn’t how I wanted this to go, I’m sorry,” she spoke almost in tears.

“Hey you didn’t know and I’m kicking you out of your bed, I’ll sleep on the air mattress, besides we can always still do everything you planned. We’ll be okay,” he smiled and held her face. She let a tear fall.

“I know but this was supposed to be a fun trip for you,”

“It will be, what’s more fun than two weeks without work,” he smiled and pushed her hair behind her ear.

“It’s only like one, so would you show me the property?” he smiled.

“Sure, but we need to get you a new wardrobe,” she laughed.

“Hey what’s wrong with my clothes?” he spun for her.

“Well for starters you’re in loafers and there’s snow on the ground, and second I do owe you a cowboy hat,” she grinned. “Come on lets play dress up”

The two of them sat in the attic surrounded by boxes of old clothes. She held up a nice quilt lined coat, identical to the light brown one she had on.

“That should fit, he was about your size,” she smiled and handed him the coat.

“Who?” he asked and examined the inside of the coat when it stared him right in the face.

‘Merry christmas daddy, (Y/n)’ stitched on the tag. his heart stopped.

“(Y/n) I can’t accept these, these meant the world to you I-”

“Spencer please, I’d rather you have daddy’s stuff than any of those other brats,” she sneered. “It’s the only other thing I got from him when he passed. He would’ve liked you,” she smiled and pulled a bunch of pearl snaps out. Spencer's heart leapt. We slid the Carhart on, it sat nicely against his body. She looked up from the boxes.

“Whoa” she gasped. “Spencer you look, just wow” she grinned.

“Wait I have one more thing,” she rushed off to the back of the attic. She returned with a box wrapped in red wrapping paper she smiled and handed it to him. He pulled the top of the box off. Inside sat a nice dark brown felt hat with a brown leather strap around it. It was adorned with a small gun charm on the leather strap.

“(Y/n) this is, this is way too much,” he looked up at her.

“I bought it for you last year, I remember you saying you wanted to be a cowboy so I figured I’d buy it but I forgot it last time so there,” she beamed at him.

“Well, try it on,” she ushered He set the hat on his head, a perfect fit.

“Well?” he spun

“You look like a true cowboy Spence,”

They walked the property talking for hours. The air grew cold and bit at their cheeks.

“Hey do you want to see my favorite spot?” she asked

“Of course,” he grinned. They walked out into the woods behind the house before coming to a clearing. The sun was beginning to set. The mountains had a purple haze but the sky was bright blue. Golden streaks danced across the clouds. The clearing was full of dry grass and thistles that would become tumbleweeds when it got windy.

“(Y/n) this is amazing,” he breathed the fresh mountain air.

“This is my favorite part of being home, the Rocky Mountain Skies. They seem to dance with color. I forget how pretty they are when I leave,” she smiled and watched the clouds float by.

“Why did you leave?” Spencer asked. He turned to look at the girl next to him. She looked small in her coat and her hair was messy from the light wind.

“After my dad died. My mom got with my Stepdouch a month later, the will had been “lost” the will that would have granted my this ranch. The only reason I got it was Papa and grandma claimed they needed a place to live so I mean it’s theirs. My mom got mad because she wanted to sell it. and my cousin Rita wanted all of my dads horses, thousands of dollars worth of horses that she and my mom fought over and split the money on. That wasn’t dads vision, they never cared about this place. Mom moved us into town, So when I turned 18 I left,” she shrugged.

“I’m so sorry (Y/n)” he hugged her.

“It’s okay. So why did you want to be a cowboy?” She teased.

“Well I mean every little boy wants to be a cowboy, I wanted to catch the outlaws, or maybe be them I’m not sure,” he laughed.

“(Y/N), SPENCER, DINNER!” Dawn yelled to them.

“Race you there” she smacked his chest and took off.

“No fair!” he called after her.

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #Criminal Minds

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