#like jesus fucking christ oh my god. its so interesting and gives me so many emotions and just!!!

[themyscirah]

Started thinking about the Amanda Waller + Ben Turner relationship again.... fuck, I'm gonna need a minute

#I JUST- SHDIAUDJSHDSHEYEYRYRYRY guys. guys #i know none of you see my vision and thats okay. i will make you see my vision. i will force you to see my vision. i will- #like jesus fucking christ oh my god. its so interesting and gives me so many emotions and just!!! #i know im not making sense bc none of my moots are sui sq fans and also like half of the content fucking me up specifically here is in my #head because i cant stop thinking about my absolute power fix it au but like!!!!!!! #also the fact i have a fix it for a comic that isnt out yet is so funny to me. its literally fucking real though. god knows we need it #may my own content carry me through the dark times (extreme villain waller arc) #anyways this fucks me up so bad you dont even know. someday ill actually explain it #dc hire me to write a suicide squad ongoing PLEASE. i could do it so good it would be so fucking good dc PLEASE 😭😭😭😭😭😭 #also like this isnt me shipping them btw. like 110% not that. just to clarify. #i wouldnt even call it a friendship bc like. theyre not friends really. he has the most equal dynamic with her i would say but it still isnt #equal. shes v much his boss even though they have an understanding and respect there #like she believes and trusts in him much more than anybody really even himself. like she sees the good man and the leader even when he #doesnt. but she isnt nice about it. and there is a lot of conflict between them when there needs to be #like as much as ben is “wallers man”--the team leader she wanted from the beginning before rick flagg pushed his way in #ben i would say is still a very moral person even when lost and unsure of himself and his goodness (which is like one of his main things) #like i feel like while amanda can lean very into a “the ends justify the means” mindset in her worse moments and do bad things to get #herself out of a corner ben has like a deep and meaningful understanding of how the choices of your methods and how you act can weigh on you #like even though he was brainwashed and whatnot (thats still the story right? i cant remember) he holds a lot of guilt and baggage over his #actions and i think is able to temper amanda's worse tendencies in terms of that by calling her out when he recognizes that behavior #idk. i just really think that amanda waller and the suicide squad as a whole has lost its way without a more moral authority presence there. #like someone who can call her out and keep them more on track. which i really thing ben is and could be #i just very much am interested in their dynamic and how that would look like as equals and how i think they could help each other. #which ofc is what my wip is about and revolves around #blah #sui sq

[stuffforme2]

Okay listen I lvoe the pjo books and series with all ym heart but.. everyone talks about them like they're perfect WHICH THEYRE NOT any problems are kinda brushed under the rug and I find thst kinda werid? Like you'll see other books and TV shows get dragged and canceled for the stuff in Riordan books and yet pjo doesn't?? So.. uhhHHHH yeah that's jsut something I noticed.

The weird relationshipd ynamics. Rick is like allergic to someone bring okay with being single or jsut aromantic like you can say Reyna but her having a crush kn Jason?? Yes she rejected Apollo but her relationship with Jason deterioted brcuz she had a 'crush' on the guy and that doesn't really amke sense to me (I can go into so much detail kn this)

AND LEO AND CALYPSO OMFG that is a toxic relationship. The age gap. The way calypso treats Leo. The fact Leo SHOULD NOT be with someone like this man hasn't dealt with his attachment and Abandonment issues like st all?!

The literal only black character in the pjo books being beckendorf.. then he dies. Then the Korean/Asian (I'm not sure sorry) character dies, Ethan. And like I understand Percy is hinted st being Hispanic (have seen many ppl talk about this dont mnow if it's common knowldhe) but it's never confirmed or added??? I know Rick fixes it later but it's still weird to me lmaoo

Rick unable to keep consistent personality. Woobigying Nico OH MY GOD NICO HE BECOMES GAY AND THSTS WHDT EVERYONE FUCKING FOCUSES ON AND HE SHOULD'VE NEVER GOTTEN WITH WILL ATLWAST NOT THAT QUICK it's not healthy. Their relationship was rushed and didn't make sense I felt like people only like ot becuz it's a gay relationship??

And oh mygods— Samirah. I am not Muslim and I am not an expert on the Nuslim religion but there is so much shitbthatbeas wrong in thst book that I even knew was incorrect and jsut weird to happen?! The AMOUNT OF TIMES HER HIJAB CAME OFF and I'm also like "yaayyyy representation" but it could've been as easy as one Google search. one.

Jason. Jason as a whole. He had the most potential out of ANYONE and personally I think he had more potential then Percy like his story is so INTERESTING and then.. Rick knocked him iut with a brick multiple times, didn't work kn his sotry or trauma at all, then KILLED HIM. Same with Ethan. I am so Vitter about these two.. HELL EVEN LEO AND FRANK.

Also the way he made Annabeth first quest (first quest SHE IS LEADING AND IS HER PROHECY) all about Percy. I was reading it and I was like "bitxh— this is Annabeth Quest?!" LIKE he it pissed me off that Annabeth was swept to rhe side as Percy's lvoe interest giving her knly enough personality and stary to make her jnteredting enough to eb loved but never delving jntk it into Mark kf Athena and even at Mark of Athena it all rounded back tk her and Percy's relationship LIKE JESUS CHRIST DO THESE MFERS PASS THE BELLDAN TEST?!

The low key incest at the beginning ricj writing that all the demigods had the same impish features at rhe start and then.. jsut.. CHSNGING IT?!

Not letting a virgin goddess who has no history of having children have.. children.. NOW you may be wondering 'but then how would we get Annabeth?'— JUST GiVE ATHENA HER FAVOURITE CHOSEN PPL LIKE SHE DID WITH ODYSSEUS let her stay childless. Jsut let her choose some children she'd like as hers wonce they're Bron and she then blesses them as her heroes, that's how she treats them any way and it also gets rid of the incest?!

Also the fact it's implied that Annabeth is only smart becuz she's a child of Athena.. Rick made a virgin goddess technically have children so he can have a smart women character and that's just.. EuGGHHhHHh JUST LET HER BE SMART IT NOT THAT HARD "Oh, no, I'm not smart because Athena chose me.. Athena chose me because I was already smart" Smacks you with common fucking sense.

Also Annabeth ALWAYS needing to eb saves and its always done by a man. OMFG AND GROVES GF DHE HAS NO PERSONALITY OUTSIDE OF BEING SOEM GUSY GF EVEN THOUGH HES GONE FOR MKNTHS AND BAREKY CONTAXTS HER?!

The whole apheodite cabin. The whole aphrodite cabin. The whole aphrodite cabin.

The fact it's clear Rick doesn't think girly girls cant be strong or into fighting or able to wield a fuckign weapon. The way he makes nearly every girly girl into a total mean bitch or ruins their characters.

#pjo #pjo hoo toa #pjo headcanon #pjo series #pjo fandom #pjo hoo #pjoverse #pjo tv show #percabeth #percy jackson and the heroes of olympus #annabeth percy jackson #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy series #riordan books #riordanverse #me complaining #anyway jason strong asf #jason grace #ethan nakamura #leah is our annabeth #nico di angelo #percy pjo

[cult-of-the-eye]

MAG 89 LETS GOOO

HE FOUND JUDE PERRY OH MY GOD

she sounds kinda hot ngl

heehee they're both pricks

he thinks its cause of the cold lol adding to my folder of evidence for autistic jon hc

love how he says i'm not stupid while meeting up with someone who has literally killed someone

oh god i remember the abbattoir statement...that made me queasy

i don't get what he's trying to do here? like get more info? why is he trying to corroborate the statement? to check if it was real? surely he would know that? i guess that's what its trying to highlight, the fact that jon has no idea what he's doing

ooh jonny boy's trying to stand up for himself

i wonder who would win in a fight, jude perry or michael the distortion

ooh shit she's intense

i love how he's attempting to make jokes in the face of danger like ok then jon pop off i guess

ok so he's catching on to the whole system

HE'S TRYING TO UNDERSTAND HE'S STILL TRYING TO GAIN KNOWLEDGE EVEN THROUGHOUT ALL OF THIS HE'S STILL SERVING THE EYE

that's interesting i wonder if she's met gertrude? i wonder what type of capital A Archivist she was...she was fighting against it her whole time so i guess she tried not to be a good one along with the whole the archives are a mess thing in s1

ooh the compelling

HIS WORDS OMG how interesting that its become his little ritual, something that he just created to try and help do his job has now become a metal link in his shackles

oh wow ok so she's saying give into the compulsion to get statements, feed yourself the knowledge and don't feel bad about it

pretty good advice for not literally burning out lol but probably not for jon

diversity win! the avatar for the literal destruction of the world is sapphic!!

oh wow girl was in love with Agnes jesus

i guess its that kind of cult leader charisma and the devotion of her followers that could be mistaken for love

oh wow this actually made me scared for a bit, for the other avatars it never seemed personal but this actually made me sad for the guy

wow i guess his powers are stronger than i thought, if he managed to compel another avatar

"she demonstrates how easy she is to mould" jesus christ

love how he gets defensive like i could be a good avatar for a fear god focused on beholding!! bro its not a compliment

what's her lot?? how are the entities divided??

man jonny its your fault for naming so many of your characters michael but at least we get bits of charades trying to guess which one it is

fairchilds oh my GOD the VAST

don't shake the fucking hand jesus christ he's gonna shake the hand of course he is

oh her soft like chuckle and her "i lied" oh my god

nice note to end it on, jon's screams of pain

#tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #jude perry #mag 89 #the desolation #the mag pod #cult listens to tma

[thefandom-casserole]

Episode 52 Notes-

I say this everytime but god I’m so scared rn

I saw spoilers on discord 😭 

My headphones are still broken this sounds so weird

WTF

WHAT IS THIS INTRO

OMG

OMG

ITS HEROOOOOOOOOOOOOO

AYYYYYYYY

I LOVE HER SO MUCH

I love how it’s Taylor singing about Hero instead of Normal her literal brother 😭 

Taylor Fact: Taylor’s personal heaven would be hot soup not spaghetti

Just Italy and Asia have separate personal heavens 

He hasn’t had his coffee 

Linc Fact: Linc’s favorite dessert is applesauce 

Honestly same though. But only homemade 

Pork and applesauce is so good

Normal Fact: Normal still has four baby teeth in his mouth 

Scary Fact: One time Scary’s mom threatened to take her to a chiropractor for an attitude adjustment and now Scary has neck pain 

Anthony Fact: THIS MIGHT BE THE LAST EPSIODE

I know this one isn’t

But still

Oh god

THE TWIZZLERS OMG

AVHAHAHAHAHAHAGE

Mercedes can’t kill him fuckkkkkkk

Taylors character arc 😭 omg

Hermie Scampler omg I feel like that hit more than just Dood

Oh no Willy left 

Normal Style

What was that voice from Beth 😭 😭 

Spanish speaking Normal!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Autistic Linc strikes again

I love Linc so much omg

LINC DID THE SOCCER THING

WHERE HE FAKES

JMAGAHAHHAHA

SPORTS HUMOR

Hero!!!!!!-):$&:&/$:

God I love hero

ARE YOU MOCKING ME WILL?

I said that to my friend Wil today actually

HEROOOOO

My favorite bit is Taylor and Hero omg

LET HIM PASS PLEASE PELAEE

A NAT ONE 

OMG

THATS FANATASTIC

HE BROKE THE SWORD

NOOOOOOOOO

The dnd experience of not being able to open a door

Hero and Normal love each a hahsjsnansndjd

Persuasion YES

SCARY

SHES NKT MISERABLE ANYMORE

“With the power of love and friendship we’ll save the world!” << Normal’s 24 persuasion roll

Nat one for Dood :cccccccc

DOOD WORSHIPS THEM

OMG ITS SO SWEET

ITS WHOLE SPEECH WAS SO GOOD

“It’s like what my dad says. When life gives you apples, you’ve gotta make applesauce”

It’s actually crazy how much I love applesauce. Especially with cinnamon. Yummmmmmmmm

GROUO HUY

Wait just found a post about kfc im intrigued wtf

Back to the topic at hand oop

WAIT WAIT WHAT

A DIMENSIOM KF

Chaos and darkness, confusion and love, fear and anger

:ccccc soemthing something that correlates to the teens and of course that’s where they go. of course. 

“I know you can do this. I think you all are gonna be alright”

THIS JS MY THIRTEENTH REASON OMG OMG OMG

THIS IS MY WHITE WHALE

JESUS CHRIST

OMG OMG

THEY DUD THE THING

SAVE ME S1 SONG REFERENCES IN S2 SAVE ME

And a fucking ad ong omg

Ayyyy Willy can’t travel through realms now that’s good that’s good

“LINC what do you mean we don’t need you”

And that ladies and gentlemen is Scary, 52 episodes in. Beth May you’re a fucking genius. HER ARC WAS SO AHAHAHAHABAHBAJAHABZBBB

I’m unwell

Linc I love him so much omg. 

His soccer special interest makes me so happy. 

Linc is me fr I love him so much 😭 

TWO TIME TRAVEKING LESBIANSNSNAHAHANSJAHA

I SCREAMED 

I SCREAMED

AHHANSNABABAHS

JANE AND LIZZY

I love them so much :>>>>>>>

Immortal combat I loved that

Linc always carries a ball pump Jesus

Linc also hasn’t lost his baby teeth

NORMLINC I DONT KNWO THEIR SHIP NAME

Dolphin diver Linc

Darryl learned a lot!!!!!!! I love Darryl ong

PAEDEN

OAEDEN MABAGAHAHAGAG HAS SVGEGSFSHAHSHHAHAHHSHSHHSHAGSHAHAHSHGAGWGEHSHSHSBSHSHBSBSHSHAHAGSHAAHSHSHHSHSJSJSJSJSJJSJSBDHSJSJAHDHSAHSJSJSSVSHJSVAVSVSVVSAVV

PARDNE IN AGAHSHBSBS SBAHGABSHHSSSGHAHAHEGWWGGS

HES IN s2

I can’t breath

HAHAHAAGGSVSGVSVSVVSV

HAHAHAGSGSGGSGSGSGEGGWGWGGWGWGWGGWGGWGW

JM LOSOIMF IT

For how little that was

I replayed it so many times

Go teens!!!!!!!!!!

BETH

LINC vs Freddie’s dad who’d win

IS CHUG GONNA BE LJKE DOUG

HOLY SHIT

CHUG THE ACCIUNTANT

DOUG THE INTERNE

What a dumb name WILL

My Wil (you know who you are scuttles) if you see this know I’m looking at you. Defense is going down. Way to win rock paper scissors loser /aff

Willy Wonka and the Unknownnnnn

They

They forgot about Hermie

Again

Omg

I’m gonna lose it

They brought Hermie back

And forgot about him

This is fucking hilarious 

They forgot about Hermie 

Ayyy Hermie is back again

Jesus

Hermie can’t pretend to be water Jesus 

Hot glue normal strikes again!!!

Teeny!!!!!!!!!!!

Taylor and Normal arts and crafts duo!!!!!!!!!

Chuggs talks like me in real life actually

Gee whilikers 

Chugs the real life warrior

ROGUE IS SCARY’S FAMILIAR

FALCOR THE DOGGAGGAGABABABABABBABABAHSBAHAHAHAGAHA

Scary’s kinda scared of dogs!!! Just like me fr!!!

Swiftli crumbsbsbbabahahahahs

“Little less attitude”

Hermie!!!!!!

Hermie as Taylorrrrrrrrrrr

THEYRE COUSINS

ISH

NORMAL

NORMAL

SCARY’S BIO DAD SHIT MAN

FAIRYTALE

OMG

Jesus Christ

Taylor is gonna go insane if Willy kills Cassandra

HE WILL LOSE HIS MIND IF WILLY KILLS CASSANDRA

WILLY LLEASE KILL CASSANDRA

RABECCA

OG MY GOD

Finale next episode

I’m gonna sob

#Dndads s2 #dndads spoilers #dungeons and daddies

[wulvert]

HI!!!!

i have something 2 confess,,,im so sorry,,,ive nver watched trigun. wht scene are u talking about with kelly in the tags of the avery ref discussion post,,,(GENUINE QUESTION JUST REREAD THIS AFTER TYPING THIS ENTIRE ASK AND REALISED IT KINDA SOUNDED MEAN??? JUDGEMENTAL??? IT WASNT MEANT 2 BE THAT WAY SORRY) ALSO IF IT ISNT BLATANT SPOILER TERRITORY,,,whats the lore behind all their scars. why has avery been stabbed so many few times. is she secretly weak against knives pre-incident. whts scarlet's two scars,,,does trisha have scars besides the werewolf attack incident back in ye olden days,,, also off topic but i tried dr. pepper strawberries and cream today and it made me think of red. my ratign is "far too sweet oh god jesus FUCKING christ good heavens i can feel my heart stopping" and then i finished the entire can. the best way i can describe the taste is if you chose to drink an entire thing of carbonated strawberry syrup for fun

NOO DW I DONT EXPECR PPL 2 READ MY TAGS ANYWAY im talkong abt the scene where u find out vash has a cage over hus left nipple

that one.

tbh not the most interesting backstory, vampires just get u with a knife sometimes! they dont like being killed. tho avery has a scar on her ankle where her dad cut her achilles tendon when she was a kid (its completely fine now though) (it was an accident he expected her to dodge his knive so its normal father daughter bonding its like when ur dad makes u lick a battery when ur 4)

on her ref scarlet has one on her lower upper leg. like above her knee but above above her knee, and one on the side of her stomach- wait and her bite scar which she covers up pretty well

k on averys ref which js the only completed (ish) ref bc im lazy she has one stab-slash in one combo on her stomach, two slashes on her left forearm around where ud block something with it. back of her knee, slash on upper arm, slash agross her shoulder blades, &obvs her little bite scar. and her ankle. & yes, she would never admit it but she was weak against being stabbed. embarassing.

kelly i have drawn his scars like once in my sketchbook but hes been stabbed a lot, i think staked once and ppl vampires bite him sometimes (but thats ok he survived unlike some ppl, who somehow claim 2 b better at their job than he is) good few like intense slashes on the torso, ones similar to averys forearm scars but more intense and on all arms, top surgery, another stab here and there- couple burns when he gets in the way of avery with a flamethrower. its fine. hes fine. it looks cool anyway. ive never drawn his back which is probably more scarred nkw that i think abt it. bc. he probably gets sneaked up on more often.

trisha the ones on screen (i think shes the only one ive bothered giving scars on screen bc theyre lore relevant but more bc im lazy), and general giant dog mauling on her legs and stuff. prior 2 that no! she was young and hadnt been hit with the violence of everyday household objects deciding to betray you yet. ( not me thiugh i have been attacked by pencils scissors and my own appendix )

i wanted 2 try that but afaik it doesnt exist here..................... jealos..... though i dont really want to drink an entire can of carbonated strawberry syrup.

#asks

[hoe-doroki]

steel and lace

minors do not interact

warnings: 18+, anal play, sex toys, voyeuristic fantasy, scratching, creampie

pairing: bakugou x fem!reader

wc: 3.8k

summary: The only one who manages to get Bakugou’s birthday right is you.

a/n: This is my addition to the Bakugou Birthday Bash collab (masterlist). Many thanks to @lady-bakuhoe​ for helping me flesh out the ideas with this story!! You were integral to this idea, love! And additional thanks to @whats-her-quirk​ and @therealvalkyrie​ for beta reading <333

edit: I no longer write x reader but here’s my old masterlist - mobile | desktop

Bakugou never took work off on his birthday.

Never. Why would he? Villains didn’t give a shit that this was the day the old hag had unceremoniously had him evacuated into a hospital room however many years ago. They didn’t give a shit that his friends—who were also heroes who should be fucking working, by the way—wanna come over to his house and surprise him. As though his reconnaissance-trained ears weren’t as fucking fine tuned at hearing idiots on the other side of the door as theirs.

What villains should care about was that he was a year older, wiser, and fucking stronger, and he was going to kick all their asses. That was what he told all his idiot friends every year when they asked him if he was going to take off work.

Every year he regretted it.

The idiots he works with really must not care about hero work, because every year they want to send him out on a field post sugar crash from some store-bought cake with his name on it. Or buy him gifts that he’ll probably toss in the trash on the way home. He’s not being rude; he just doesn’t need junk that he never would have bought himself in the first place.

Everyone is always grinning at him, wishing him a happy birthday—as though he’s any goddamn happier to see their ugly mugs flapping their lips at him—and trying to start stupid-ass conversations. If he doesn’t like small talk normally, why would he want it on his birthday?

And the singing.

If people really wanted to wish him a happy birthday, they’d find a way to do it silently while doing some respectable fucking hero work. Make his day easier.

But no, none of that was what happened. So he should have just stayed home. Let the villains have a fucking field day on April 20th, and he could have his real gift killing them all tomorrow on the 21st.

But, unfortunately, he was a dumbass and had gone to work anyway, like he’d learned nothing from the last many years of antics. And the continued antics had got him a little pissy. And when he was pissed off, his heart rate increased, his breathing grew heavier, and, of course, he sweat.

Well. Guess what happened?

“Bakugou, I am currently paying to treat burns and fractures on three villains. Care to explain?”

Best Jeanist was sitting in his office chair, blinding sunlight streaming in behind him. Late afternoon sun—darker in color but way more resentful towards human eyes, apparently. It was reflecting off of all of the neighboring glass corporate buildings, making Bakugou squint behind his mask.

Bakugou shrugged, petulant as he stood behind his chair instead of sitting in it. “Overkill.”

Best Jeanist nodded. “Did you…lose control?”

“Tch,” Bakugou scoffed. As if he ever lost control. “Villains were weaker than I thought.”

Bakugou felt the stare of that one fucking eye and stood firm. He knew he was looking at a suspension, hopefully just for a day or two. It wasn’t like he’d done anything terrible. Villains got hurt sometimes, just like pros did, and they got their care and then they got their justice. It’s not like Bakugou was violent on purpose. Anymore. And Jeanist sure as hell knew that, so it wouldn’t take Bakugou off the field for more than a slap on the wrist. He probably wouldn’t even be technically suspended. Just chained by the fucking dick to his desk with some paperwork.

“Just…” Bakugou braced for it, narrowing his eyes but keeping his snarl to a minimum. “Just be more careful next time. Shower and go home—see you tomorrow.”

Bakugou’s jaw dropped. He closed it quickly, trying not to look like Dunce Face in front of his boss, but in all that was real and true what? He was just about to say something—he didn’t know what, probably something insubordinate—when Best Jeanist took out his own paperwork and waved him away.

“Happy birthday, Bakugou.”

Oh. So that was it.

Bakugou grit his teeth. Happy fucking birthday indeed.

It was nothing. His brain told him over and over again that it was fucking nothing. He hadn’t been punished, he hadn’t even really done anything wrong; he just hadn’t been squeaky clean up to fucking code. He could still show up for work tomorrow, business as usual. He should be tickled fucking pink.

But he wasn’t. Special treatment for being the birthday boy? What was he? Five years old and given a pass after stealing the chicken nuggets off Deku’s plate? Jesus Christ.

And if he was honest, he was mostly pissed at himself. Sure, he could blame how the weather always seemed to sprint from spring to summer around his birthday every year, strengthening his quirk. He could blame the villains for being weak enough that they had no business even stepping foot in his neighborhood. But losing control of his quirk even a little—and it had been a little—was fucking amateur and he’d have to pencil in some extra time at the gym. Maybe snatch Shitty Hair for some sparring, and, unfortunately, probably nab an extra therapy session and talk about this anger thing again.

At least walking instead of sitting on that stifling, crowded train car was doing him some good. Let him cool off a bit before he got home and you saw that something was wrong. He was nearly entirely relaxed by the time he got to his building’s lobby, even having the grace to nod at the concierge—who didn’t know it was his birthday, thank God—before heading up the elevator.

When he got off on his floor, it suddenly occurred to him that you might have done something truly repulsive, like inviting his friends over. He could imagine Shitty Hair’s shitty fucking hair sticking up from behind your sofa as he tried to hide before leaping up and yelling surprise.

Well, if that was the case, then the surprise was going to be him kicking all his dumb friends out of the apartment with one foot. Ain’t no way he was going to host a party on his birthday.

It turned out his worry was for nothing, though, because when he turned the knob—fully braced to punch out some teeth with his other hand—he was greeted with a totally bare apartment.

Like barren.

For starters, it was perfectly clean. Bakugou kept a tidy house normally, but this was certainly cleaner than he’d left it this morning. But more than that, there was nothing extra lying around. No stupid friends. No presents. No cake or even the smell of one. It was almost disconcerting.

No, it was a relief. A relief because he didn’t want any of that stuff. He’d had the slice of cake at work—and was slightly hangry now to show for it—and wasn’t interested in having another. And even though you’d choose better gifts than the extras at work would, it was nothing he couldn’t buy himself. So no, this was perfect. He was absolutely not disappointed. Maybe a bit confused. But not disappointed.

He took his shoes off and set his things on the small table by the door. Then he wandered into the kitchen, downed some water, and thought about what he might make for dinner. He might have expected that you and he would make dinner together or maybe even that you would have surprised him with something, but he didn’t mind doing it alone. It wasn’t like he’d learned to cook just to find a housewife someday to con into doing it all for him.

He decided to go to the bedroom first to plug in his phone. He was just sliding it out of his pocket when he opened the door, saw you, and stopped short.

You were on the bed—not in bed, but on it—wearing a black zip up with his signature orange x over the chest. You were on your knees with your legs spread wide, looking him dead in the eye with a deadly smirk on your face, painted in bright lipstick.

“New prototype. You like?”

The two of you had met when you were scouted from his parents’ business to design the clothing for his first merchandise line. He’d sworn off dating you from the beginning, because the last thing he wanted was to give the old hag anything to say about, firstly, her being at all responsible for finding  him a girlfriend or secondly, the fact that dating a fashion designer would mean he was dating his parents. He’d said fuck that to anyone who would listen.

But you’d gotten his brain from the beginning. Your designs were all sick from the sketch to mock up to the prototypes you always wore for him. Maybe he was a simple man for falling for a girl dressed in his colors, aiming to please him, but fuck it. You were talented, too smart for your own good, and pretty as hell.

So what? Now he had a dream girlfriend and one more reason to fight with his mom. Net positive for sure.

Still, that jacket wasn’t a prototype. That was from his first official line, no doubt, and he’d seen you wear it hundreds of times. He knew from here how much it would smell like detergent and how much like you.

You caught his eyes, raised your brows once, and then pulled the zip on the sweatshirt.

Underneath was nothing but lace and ribbon, contrasting the black and orange of the sweatshirt with moss green outlining your silhouette. The moss green from his gauntlets and his belt was caged around you in the thinnest strips of fabric, scraps of floral barely covering your breasts and pussy. The lingerie was an all-in-one, with the tiny bra connected to the panties by a few ribbons crossing over your belly. Not hiding a damn thing, but showing it off for all its worth.

“Fuck,” Bakugou groaned when the sweatshirt hit the bed, your arms still in the sleeves, but the look underneath now fully revealed to him. He could feel the blood going to his dick, just seeing you on display like that getting him up to half mast in seconds.

“Not a lot of coverage on this version,” you mused, sticking your thumb under a bra strap. “Maybe an edit for the second try?”

Bakugou growled, taking a step forward, but you weren’t done just yet.

“I was also thinking maybe full panties next time,” you said, turning around, sitting on your heels. The sweatshirt hung just below your ass, framing round cheeks that were caged by thin elastic crosses, and that was it. Not so much as a triangle of fabric to speak of. “Maybe write: Property of Dynamight on them? Or is that too much text?”

That was all it took for Bakugou to pounce. One arc of his fist had his shirt thrown with a smack to the floor and then his hands were on your shoulders, spinning you face up as he pushed you flat on the bed.

“You know I don’t like unnecessary words,” he growled.

And then he was kissing you, a hand running up the falke stockings pinned on your thighs as you pulled your arms out of the sweatshirt. One leg came up automatically to wrap around his hip, and Bakugou began rutting against your center, fully hard already. On his second grinding thrust, his pants snagged on the scrap of lace you were wearing. Wetness was already glistening on his trousers and he moved his thumb down to your core, groaning at what he felt.

“Crotchless panties?” he mumbled against your mouth. “You’re making this too easy, sweetheart.”

“Shouldn’t have to work so hard on your birthday,” you mewled.

There was a rumble in Bakugou’s throat, half scoff, half chuckle. “Yeah, remind me of that next year, will you?”

You were soaked already—the swipe of his thumb told you that much. Either you’d gotten really excited when he’d texted you that he was coming home early, or you’d…gotten yourself excited at some point after. Either way, it meant that foreplay could wait for round two.

He pulled his thumb away from your core and pressed it against your lip, smudging what lipstick had survived the kisses down your chin. You were half ruined already. You stuck your tongue out and licked at essence on his thumb before sucking it into your mouth, eyes wide as you looked up at him. Fuck, he could feel himself straining against his pants, grinding circles against your half-bare cunt for a spot of relief.

After you licked him clean, he took his hand back, leaving your mouth open and wanting as he began to fuss with the front of his pants. He caught your smudged lips again, holding your jaw with one hand as he pushed his pants down with the other. He pulled his lower half away from you, kicking off the pants—hadn’t bothered with boxers for the commute home—and let them slide off the edge of the bed.

“Ready?” he asked.

Your smile was big and you bit the tip of your tongue, nodding your head twice. That was all he needed. He grabbed his cock in his fist and slid it through your wetness just once, and then he pushed himself in.

Immediately, he felt the drag of something hard and angled against your lower wall right along his cock, pressing from tip to base as he slid home inside of you.

“Woah,” he groaned. “What the fuck?”

You giggled, the action making your walls flutter against him.

“Got myself a new toy,” you said coyly, wrapping your legs around his hips. “Promise you can get yourself something pretty on my birthday too.”

Bakugou reach a hand around your thigh, feeling the elastic garter pulled taut against the stockings that were rubbing so deliciously against his back and his hips. He grabbed a handful of your ass, and the tips of his fingers felt a rounded edge of warm metal slid just between your ass cheeks.

“You fucking naughty minx.” Bakugou grinned, showing all his teeth, rearing back out of you before thrusting back in, feeling the novel pressure of the toy on the way out and back.

No wonder you had been so wet to begin with. You must have lubed yourself up before putting in that butt plug—which wasn’t small, from what he could feel of it. He could imagine you, one leg up on the sink, ass sticking out as you fingered yourself, mouth dropping open when you inserted the toy. How cold it would have been when it first touched your pert little hole and how you’d gotten it all warm for him as you waited with your little secret for him to get home.

“It’s curved to hit prostates,” you gasped as Bakugou rocked hard, steady thrusts into you. “In case you’re interested.”

The thought, much to Bakugou’s surprise, sent a thrill right through his belly down to his dick. He couldn’t help but slam rapidly into you, making your eyes roll back. Fuck, was that something he wanted? It wasn’t something he’d ever thought about, and he didn’t have the mind right now to ponder it.

“God you feel so big.”

“You feel so tight, sweetheart,” Bakugou grunted, refusing to acknowledge the fresh heat that was on his cheeks after your previous comment. “Squeezing me from all sides.”

The butt plug left it so there was barely enough room in your pussy for his cock to pump in and out. The pressure was hard on one side, making him fucking twitch every time the head of his cock caught against it, leading him to opt for long, deep thrusts in and out of you. It was so good that he didn’t even care if the only present he got for his birthday was a little hunk of stainless steel halfway up your ass. He’d gotten home five minutes ago and already he could feel his balls tightening, threatening to bust a nut.

“Just think of it, Katsuki,” you said, your voice dreamy as he fucked you raw. “All the women wearing this set, thinking of you when they show it off for their partners. All wishing that you were the one fucking them. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, baby? But they’ll never have anything but their husband’s sad cock that they pretend is yours.”

“Fuck,” Bakugou growled, putting a hand on the headboard and nearly splintering it in his grip. You were riling him up and it made him want to press his palm flat against the burnished oak and let off his quirk, send shards flying. His hand was already drenched with more sweat than it should have been, just like with those villains earlier. Goddamn this time of year. He couldn’t help it; his quirk begged for it. He was in dire need of release of some kind, and it wasn’t like he could cum yet. He had to know how your pussy felt when it convulsed around him, ass cheeks tensing and squeezing that toy hard against his cock until he was spurting into you.

Bakugou let off a few crackling pops from his palm, moaning as relief filled him, the tension lessened for a moment. A faint smell of wood smoke spread through the room, slightly embittered by the resin blackening around his hand. One more scorch mark on the bed frame. You groaned underneath him, taken by the sight of Bakugou’s ever-tight control slipping for you. You knew he’d fuck you through the bed until the rest of the frame gave way if he wanted. You’d both be flat on a busted mattress and he’d keep going until he felt you clench around him.

“How’s that sound, Katsu?” you continued, your voice growing higher as Bakugou took his hand off the headboard and pressed four fingers, still sweaty and heated from his quirk, against the lace covering your clit. It was soaked through. “A-Ah, you’d like the idea of a woman home alone, dressed up just for you, fucking herself on the dildo she hides in the back of your closet, screaming out your name and hoping to God that her neighbors don’t hear?”

Bakugou couldn’t do the long, slow thrusts anymore. Your legs had grown tighter around his waist, your calves soft and silken against his ass as he kept his thrusts deep. The butt plug was rubbing against the base of his cock as he pounded into you, his fingers swiping over your clit with little finesse, but speed and steady pressure making up for it.

“But no matter…” you continued, the words coming out in little huffs as you panted with your head thrown back. Bakugou couldn’t resist leaning down and licking a line up the length of your neck, biting your earlobe when he got to the top, “no dildo, no matter how expensive, no matter how long and fat, will be good enough. The whole time…they’ll know they’re missing out. Oh, fuck.”

All of a sudden, your thighs were squeezing tight against his hip bones, arms thrown over his back and finger scratching hot lines that would mark him even more as yours tomorrow. Then you were gasping, walls squeezing and Bakugou fought against your grip to pull out just enough so that the metal toy was rubbing just over the cleft of his head with every convulsion.

He didn’t stand a chance. There was hardly any warning before he was cumming into you, streaks of his seed dribbling out of you. He couldn’t even pump himself through it; you were gripping him so tightly and, more than that, he didn’t want to move. Everything was white hot, so he just waited it out, barely moving save for where his hand was still rubbing over your clit.

Eventually you stopped him, grabbing his wrist just as the grip of your cunt loosened around him. Then you brought his hand, glistening with moisture, up to your mouth, and broadly laved your tongue from the base of his fingers to the tips, looking him dead in the eye. You then brought his hand down to your neck, and allowed him to streak the combined fluids across and down your décolletage.

Fuck—there was no way he was going to work on his birthday next year. He’d let villains overtake the city first.

“They’ll know they’re missing out,” you breathed, and it took Bakugou a second to figure out that you were continuing your voyeuristic fantasy from before, playing it out to the end, “They might even think they understand. But the only one who will truly know, is me.”

You smiled, your eyes and grin both heavy, sleepy, sated.

“Got that fucking right,” Bakugou said, pulling out of you, his cum already dripping down your ass. He eyed it, only catching a glimpse of the glinting metal plug before your legs fell to the bed, spread and limp. He smacked your hip lightly with one hand. “Roll over.”

In no mood to argue, you flipped willingly, ass up, plug still hidden from view. The lingerie was damp in some spots from where your wetness had spilled from your pussy. He leaned his mouth towards one of the strips of elastic stretching against the swell of your ass and bit. You gasped, back arching, and Katsuki smirked as he pulled away.

“A fucking lingerie line?”

A chuckle escaped your throat. “It was supposed to be a joke, but now…”

Katsuki pinched the elastic with his fingers and snapped it, watching the slight jiggle of your cheeks as you jolted. “No.”

“But Katsuki,” you whined.

“Mm,” he amended, as close to ‘maybe’ as you were going to get. You both could always talk about the idea—truly ridiculous idea—later. Katsuki put a hand on one cheek under the strips of lingerie and spread it.

There was the plug, a stainless steel handle. It was thin and shaped like an oblong donut, not like one of those cheap bejeweled things. This one, even just what he could see of it, screamed quality, and, for a moment, Bakugou wondered again what it would be like to wear. If you’d gotten it in, he sure as fuck could. And he did hold a certain anatomical advantage in using it.

He put his thumb and forefinger to the phalange and gave the toy a twist, pressing it just slightly deeper into your hole. You groaned, your voice low and deep in the pillow like when he gave you a back massage. He smirked and kept at it. Seemed this was a birthday gift for him after all.

“Katsu, don’t tease,” you moaned. “Sensitive.”

Bakugou, however, had no mercy. He flipped you over again, pulling a little yelp from you, and then picked you up bridal style, carrying you off the bed.

“Where are we going?” you asked, your voice suddenly much more awake.

“Shower,” he answered simply. He squeezed the meat of your upper thigh. Not quite your ass but close enough for the point to be made. “I’m not done with my present yet.”

#bakugou smut #bakugo smut #bnha smut #mha smut #tw: voyeurism #not/sfw #bakugou birthday bash

[ddarker-dreams]

FINALLY SOMEONE SAID THE TRUTH.

I admit that i enjoyed act 3 but it feels like really rushed i have so much complain with that.

The build up until act 2 was so good it give us so much premise but the final blow si meh. Sorry that i want to share thing long rant with you

1. Why the final talk is with yae, no offense to her but we need ei to explain not to mention she witness khaenriah downfall so she can give us more information, i feel like they do it for the plot armor so they can just keep dragging this

2. So many things that quite inconsistant, the shogun is show no mercy to anyone that even did a little thing outside what she think its right, how come she can still have a talk with signora, when sara is falling like that, and also there is no clarification about sara right now.

The traveler was so done at first they refuse to help thoma and ayaka at the beginning. But they seem so happy and forget everything how come they are not RAGE ( okay maybe this is to bias and personal) when this nation provide nothing about our siblings information and also why they are not mention anything about their problem in ei stroy quest. Its nonsense! She is right in front of youu, ask about your siblings, ask about khaenriah, ask about ukmown god!!. How come they can just forget like that. Also mihoyo really waste the potential about twin things i thing ei will give us so much help bcs of the sympathy that we both rn lost our twin but noooo.

3. Kokomi seem lost some brain cell, she make a very succesfull grand intro but she become meh in act 3, how come a great strategist like her let the sus sponsorship slip just bcs they are desperate, not to mention her screen time is really small and her role seem so unsignificant and it feels lile she is a plain npc.

4. The awesome world quest that we have done doesnt get any mention at all! Inazuma owe us so much with cleansing sakura, thunder sakura, tatarigami, obarashi quest. It has so much potential that yae or ei or anyone else aknowledge what traveler has been done but nooo.

cracks knuckles... i suppose it's time for my promised dissertation. interestingly enough, you touched on a lot of the main issues i had with chapter III.

i think that if i had to pin the main issue, it's a lack of overall cohesiveness? we were jumping all over the place without the chance to ever flesh things out. inazuma is a smaller cast, but i feel like we didn't get to see any of them shine. since i'm most interested in the genshin characters, i'll break down my problems by going over everyone and their (lack) of impact on the story.

was ayaka not questioned or placed under suspicion for being close to thoma before his escape? i wanted to see her broken up over her duties as they relate to the yashiro commission, paired with having someone she genuinely cares about in danger. it would've been an interesting struggle if she was forced to choose one or the other. instead she just kinda took a back seat.

speaking of thoma, i don't even have anything to say, because he just... was there? for .0001 seconds. said "lol this sucks ig" and that's about it. i know we're going to get a story for him in the future since he's a 5* but i'm not getting my hopes up 😭 then in the raiden shogun's character story, man is peachy keen! be upset with the raiden shogun! have some inner conflict! even if it's just using loaded language because he's under surveillance for going against the raiden shogun, that'd be so cool. saying something like,

"Traveler, what's with that expression? Oh please, there's nothing to worry about. We're under the Statue of the Omnipresent God's protection. Nothing bad has ever happened here." *wink*

i also don't know what to say about gorou. he was... there....... i think. what is he fighting for? what are the stakes for him? what makes him place so much trust into kokomi? i'm out of things to say about him because i don't remember anything he did or said.

kokomi... oh kokomi... i was so hyped. so excited. i thought that maybe we could see a foil to the raiden shogun. that she'd have a moment where she's forced to realize, just like her opponent, sacrifices must be made that will hurt people who will never understand why she made them. or maybe something to show her military prowess. but instead she just accepts a mysterious patron's help (?), sees her people aging like the grateful dead from JJBA, and goes oh well. that sucks. what can ya do. oh bye traveler i guess, good luck with that. ????????????? HUH... similar case to thoma where she's gonna get a character story but like. she won't be the leader of the resistance anymore. that was her whole shtick. they took her shtick away. also she forced me to interact with more NPCs whose names i've already forgotten so i'm tilted about that still.

KUJOU SARA... AN INJUSTICE. A DISGRACE. a slap to my woman loving face. the build up was there. yae miko's comments about sara probably knowing the tenryou commission is involved in shady dealings, but is choosing not to think about it. sara being forced to confront reality and challenge her adopted father with the truth. being able to blaze a new path for herself in the process. when she started running to the raiden shogun i was ultra hyped up. sara, a devotee to the shogun for so long, was about to see her god interacting with the same people who led inazuma to this awful state. how would she react? would she stay ignorant, like yae miko so coyly said, choosing to look away in favor of following her god's footsteps? or would she be forced to recognize the raiden shogun isn't as divine as she once thought, and challenge her belief system?

we open the door to see the raiden shogun. the loading screen ensues. the camera pans to the ominous room, clouded in darkness, hinting at the ominous confrontation that is to come. the music takes a serious timbre. and then...

well fuck that potential character arc i guess. (we still don't know what sara made of any of this since she poofed out of existence from the story at this point)

kazuha also was handed a similar treatment. we've been with him for a while longer now. he is our introduction into inazuma, the one who first gets us emotionally involved by regaling us with the bittersweet tale of friendship that led him to becoming a wanted criminal. a kind soul who loves nature yet was dealt a cruel hand by fate, forced to watch his home nation turn into a hostile place, where his dear friend ultimately perished as a result. we get the scene with his friend's vision lighting back up. he parries a block from the raiden shogun, in the same area where his friend was killed by her. the parallels. the drama. except this time, he wasn't too late. he protected the traveler where he "failed" to protect his friend in the past. did he feel redemption at this? or was it a bittersweet reminder of what could've been?

WELL i guess we'll never know because we didn't get to talk to him again 😭 idk who got a bait and switch worse, him or sara. jesus christ mihoyo.

then we have signora. why is the raiden shogun talking to her? does she know about the gnosis being taken, and if she doesn't, what was her plan to get it from the archon? what does she think about scaramouche? and oh, okay, we're fighting here now. good fight + god tier music. pog pog. okay, now we've beaten her up, and raiden shogun wyd— wait no not signora her lore is still on CUPS not YET raiden shogun and— ah she's dead. okay. non nerds who didn't read artifact lore are going to know nothing about her. signora has such an interesting story, and yet... well. ok.

then we get raiden shogun redemption (?) arc. i was hype for this as well, though at that point, idk why i bothered being hype. i knew they were gonna do a cute power of friendship something or another, and i'm good with that, so long as it's executed well. what i was envisioning was like seven different buffs to correspond with the seven different visions, the dreams of those whose ambitions were stolen serving as the spear to penetrate the raiden shogun's heart of stone. maybe a hydro vision giving us extra healing for a time, with the voice acting over it being like,

"Even if the rest of the world forgets us, let our will carry you through this one final time. Succeed where we couldn't, Traveler."

so on and so forth.

but instead we got— you get the idea at this point. why bother spelling it out anymore.

at that point i was surprised the raiden shogun didn't go "oopsie woopsie!! we made a fucky wucky!!!" because that was the vibe i was getting. i love ei, don't get me wrong, but i wanted to see her challenged with what she had done to inazuma in the past year. maybe meeting NPC #2345259 who lost her sister to the vision decree or something, reminding ei of the love she held for her sister... being forced to come to terms with the extent of what she's done in pursuit of eternity.

anyway. please for the love of god mihoyo hire better writers for the main story. that is all i ask. thank you.

#genshin impact spoilers #answered #Anonymous

[spiked-tea-writing]

and they were roommates?!

SapnapxFem!Reader

Summary: Imagine being in love with your roommate, couldn't be you.

Pronouns: She/her

Warning: Swearing

Word Count: 2.3k

A/n: I don’t watch or know anything, I just like these people and I had a concept. Also, he and Dream aren’t roommates in this for the sake of I can’t figure that out. Also also, my timeline is probably fucked but who cares

The dynamic in the apartment was...interesting to say the least

In the two years of living together, it had shifted a lot

In the beginning, you and Sapnap had been... less than cordial to each other

Both eighteen, fresh out of high school, off to college thinking that you knew everything.

There was lots of fighting, to say the least.

All of the “No it’s your turn to vacuum”, and “I swear to god Sapnap I will punt you halfway across the world if you eat my pineapple again”

The only reason you didn’t slit each other’s throats was that if the other person was dead, who would pay rent?

It was the summer before college started at the time, and you were working long hours minimum wage so coming]’/ home to an annoying prick caused a crap ton of conflict

After a few months of being little bitches to each other, y’all got piss drunk in the apartment and it all just sorta fell apart

Got that good drunk therapy, spilling your deepest secrets

(y’all were underage but shhh)

So by the time college started, the two of you had become actual friends and started enjoying each others company

A few months into the friendship, you encouraged him to post the video of “Minecraft, but it’s Raining Cats and Dogs” on a whim

Lmao little did you know what you had created (we’ll get to that later)

You mocked his train of thought constantly, laughing at the timing of it all.

“Ahhh yes, I am Sapnap, the genius who thought it’d be great to become a YouTuber while in my first year of college.”

He’d always just laugh and roll his eyes, playfully shoving you while stealing your chips.

The next few months were a haze of studying, work, and him.

It was truly a friendship of convenience since you guys were so busy, him starting his youtube career, and you working restaurants, then school on top of that, it was just easy to find friendship in your roommate.

Of course, he had his close friends which he spoke to over the internet, and you had your friends from back home, but as for college, it really was only him.

You guys had a fun time just hanging around the apartment, and it became so easy to be friends with him

And it WAS truly platonic (we’ll get back to that as well)

The best thing he brought to the friendship was his animals

You got on fabulously with Cash and the cats

They were all so cuddly and honestly loved you more than him lmao

You guys were just trying to get degrees and not be too stupid, was that too much to ask???

Well to a certain 2020, it was

The beginning of that year was great.

He was sorta realizing that he liked putting himself on social media, but on top of that, it seemed like a great start to a year.

February brought him to twitch, which you loved

You found it hilarious how he would just sorta play games and have people watch him live.

But you were incredibly supportive, as a friend, of course

He really liked it so, you tried to ignore the shouting at three am, and the loud anthems at night

Sure you’d give him hell in the morning, but why kill his fun?

March started great, as it was his birthday.

You got him a glittery lighter as a gag, but it was the perfect gift for a broke-ass college student

Then a certain pandemic came a-knockin’ on y’all’s door

It was a hard hit on both of you.

An executive decision was made that you two would stay put, but being away from your families was incredibly tough.

That spring was the birth of The SMP.

It brought him so much joy, which in turn made you happier.

The rest of the school year was a blur of zooms and test

Nick nearly killed you on multiple occasions when you made fun of the fact that he was learning computer science over the computer or made him help you figure out what the fuck zoom was since it was tangentially related to his major

“SAP HELP ME YOU SHOULD KNOW THIS ITS YOUR FUCKING MAJOR!!!”

“NO, IT’S- AHHHHHHHHH”

Yall got more than a handful of noise complaints shhhh

That summer was fill was spent trying to fill the time in weird ways

Note to self, he can’t cook (which you learned the hard way)

Yall spent so much time trying to cook and bake, then sweating off the calories working out with The Fitness Marshall lmao

As sucky as the situation was, that summer was so incredibly fun for the both of you, and truthfully the only arguments were about what music to blast

“Y/n I swear if I listen to Cosmicandy one more time I will drown you.”

“Well if I hear American Idiot one more time someone’s knee caps are getting harvested.”

(that argument was settled with Elton John.)

When school started up again that fall, something shifted

After a year of actual friendship, you guys were no longer just friends, and the tension was so thick it could be cut with a knife

You had watched every single one of his streams since day one, but within 2 seconds of his Love or Host, you felt the need to hurl for some peculiar reason

It was bizarre because there was no way you could ever like him, of course not.

Within the apartment, you guys suddenly got a lot more touchy, but only because it was getting cold with winter and all that jazz.

It wasn’t because yall were secretly in love, what is this, a romcom?

The number of times you guys woke up on the couch, definitely not cuddling was too many to count

You started sitting in his room while he streamed, definitely not watching him with heart eyes because of how excited he got

He always had a pot of coffee full and a 6-pack of monster in the fridge since he knew you ran on spite and caffeine, and definitely not so that he could spend more time with you in the early hours of the morning.

The laundry started getting all mixed around, resulting in just sharing any sweats, hoodies, or socks.

The same thing went for food.

No longer was anything labeled with a name, if it was in the fridge, it was fair game (unless there was a post-it because come on, yall weren’t monsters)

But no, y’all were just roommates, not dating, lets make that clear.

Feelings? We don’t know her.

This entire time, his friends have had to hear about you rip.

But they got front row seats to your relationship development

“OMG my roommate is the worst she ate all of the frozen strawberries”

“Y/n kidnapped Storm all day while she studied and I thought I lost the fucking cat asjvdk”

“I had to run down and talk to the landlord because we dropped a pot of pasta sauce all over the carpet and couldn’t get the damn stain out.”

“She is so nice in preparation for a family dinner zoom, she ran out to the local Filipino food place and pick stuff up.”

“Sorry I’m late I overslept and didn’t want to wake up Y/n.”

They weren’t stupid, and could clearly see how whipped he was.

Dream and Geroge teased him about it constantly.

“Woah, calm down Sap, you should probably tell her you love her before you propose.”

“Yeah Dream’s right, it’s kinda weird that you’re living together before ever dating.”

He always flushed and denied it with a shake of his head.

He wasn’t into you, are they crazy?

Quackity and Karl messed with him in more unorthodox ways

There are a solid number of clips where they are fake crying over how he’s cheating on them, and even more tweets to match

It only got worse when you met them accidentally.

He was chatting post-stream on a video channel with George, Dream, Karl, and Quackity, and just his luck, you came into his room.

Like of all the times you could walk in, it was the time he was with his five closest friends but I digress

“Yo I got some extra tips yesterday so I picked up some extra Red Bull if you want to do one of your weird all-nighter streams.”

“Y/n I’m on channel.”

“Oh shit sorry my b. Catch.”

All the guys heard was a thud and a groan from Sapnap as the six-pack hit him in the chest.

Dream was the one to recognize your name.

“WAIT IS THAT Y/N I WANT TO MEET THEM!”

You could hear Dream’s voice through his headphones

“Sap… who is that?”

“No one. I’ll be out in a sec to help with dinner.”

You could hear a British voice come through.

“Oh so we are no one now, huh.”

Another voice piped through.

“Common... ¿Qué intentas ocultar?”

You cut in.

“Your headset it shit my guy. I can hear everything. I’m down to talk to them.”

He let out a groan.

“Fine. But you’re gonna have to do the dishes tonight.”

“Deal. Now move.”

“What? No.”

“Fine bitch.”

You collapsed onto his lap, plucking the headphones off of him.

“Hello, Sapnap’s friends. I am Y/n. A pleasure to meet y’all. Can you hear me?”

You heard a series of laughs through the headset, and a voice came through.

“Yes, we can see you too. I’m Karl, it’s so nice to finally meet his girlfriend.”

A blush rose on both of your faces, and another voice came through.

“Yeah, we’ve heard lots about you. Plus we can’t see your face in that picture Sap sent us. I’m Quackity”

That remark stopped your embarrassment in its tracks.

“What the fuck? How do you guys know me? I’m not even his girlfriend? And what picture?”

Sapnap grabbed your arm to calm you down as another voice cut in, but his one you recognized as his friend Dream.

“Hey, it’s okay. He just talks about you a bit, and the picture I believe was of you holding like three cats with like a red bull can on your head.”

“Jesus fucking christ why do they have that photo??”

He looked guilty but chuckled.

“Because that photo is a damn masterpiece.”

Karl’s voice came back in with a giggled.

“Soooo, Y/n we’d love to hear about you. Specifically anything funny or embarrassing that you have learned by living with him.”

Sapnap let out a groan from behind you as you went off.

“WELL lemme tell y’all, he has no cooking knowledge, well I mean, now he does, but one time, about a year ago, I had I been keeping a pot of water boiling for about an hour, soft boiling eggs, cooing noodles, blanching bok choy, etc. but this fucking genius is like ‘oH tHe HaNdLe Is StIcKiNg OuT. LeMmE mOvE iT wItH mY bArE hAnD.’ Needless to say, he burnt the crap outta his hand and kept the bag of frozen blueberries on it for the entire night. It took me like a solid five seconds to actually help him because I was laughing.”

By the time you had finished that story, you had seen Nick roll his eyes like 5 five times while the rest of the guys were wheezing.

“Yeah, well remember the time you were trying to imitate Rapunzel after we had watched it over Zoom with my sister, and you swung the edge of the frying pan into our head and got a nasty bump on it? At least I moved quick enough to put some ice on it.”

“Ice? It was the damn leftover Slushy that I had been freezing.”

“True, but you got to drink it after, so it was a win-win situation.”

“Sap, I had a bump the size of a golfball coming off of my temple. There was no winning.”

“Fine, you’re just making me sound like such a shit roommate.”

“No that’s not true, you do all of the talking to the landlord, and you at least tried to muffle the noise when you stream.”

“I guess that’s true, but you do like 80% of the cleaning.”

“Yeah but only because you’re working. Plus in the past 6 months, you’ve made coffee every morning, AND made sure I was taking my meds.”

“Those things aren’t that hard and I do it to make sure you don’t die because I lo- care about you.”

“What?”

“What?”

You heard Dream’s wheeze laugh and remembered that you guys were still on call.

“Smooth.”

You both went red, and Sap moved his arm around you to leave the channel.

The next few moments were complete torture, the two of you just sitting in silence.

You were wondering if he meant what he was about to say and he was scared that you had heard it.

He was the one to break the silence. (mind you you’re still sitting on his lap lmao)

“I’m sorry about that.”

You weren’t sure how to respond. Should you ask him if he meant it? Because that wouldn’t be that bad. Or just pretend it never happened. Nah that’d be hella awkward. Or-

“I love you too.”

“You what?”

Wow, okay your brain is being a little bitch rn, but fuck it. Balls to the walls baby.

“I love you, and I have for a while now. I just want you to know.”

You finally looked him in the eye, and he was grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

“Thank god. I love you, and nearly fucking told you for the first time in front of my friends accidentally. Damn, I’m smooth.”

You laughed and he smiled wider.

“Can I kiss you?”

After a quick nod he swooped in and holy hell his lips felt great. His arm wound around your waist and your hands made their way to his jaw as he pulled you closer to him.

The only thing playing in your mind was “and they were roommates”

#sapnap x reader #sapnap #sapnapxreader #sapnap fluff #sapnap fanfic #sapnap fanfiction #sapnap x you #sapnap x y/n

[bangtansbun]

Peaches || Jeongguk

pairing: Jeongguk x f.reader

genre: fluff, smut

summary: you’re in your third year of college, a criminology major and music minor, and you’re still harboring (maybe even nurturing) a crush that you’ve had on a classmate since your first year. You’d seen him around campus, even had gen. eds. with him, but this semester he’s in your chorus class. He’s sat next to you in the tenor section and he just won’t stop calling you “peaches”

word count: 5,239

warnings: slow burn, massive pining crush, perverse thoughts, thigh riding, slight mentions of marking, dirty talk, praise, nipple stimulation, fingering, protected sex, cursing, vague description of squirting, details of JK’s pretty cock, this is kinda soft because he’s a sweet boy

a/n: kadjlaksdjlkj parts of this are literally based off of my high school crush

You’ve finished your first class of the day, Criminal Psychology, and you’re headed to your chorus class now. It’s across campus so you’re moving fast, but also trying to enjoy the walk since it’s flurrying outside and you’re excited for the snowy weather.

You’re hoping you have some good classmates this year, the boys in your Chorus 1 class last year were a nightmare and always pissed off your instructor. You’re okay with a little bit of fun in the class, but not to the point where you’re whipping around in your chair to tell the ignorant boy to “shut the hell up” in front of everyone.

You walk into the room and find your usual seat in the soprano 2 section (even though you knew you many not have that exact seat once your instructor decides where you would blend best). A few of your chorus friends from last year make their way into class too, and you make sure to say hi to all of them. 

Then, he walks in.

You’d seen this cutie around campus since last year and had one- no, maybe two gen. ed. classes with him. He had down the goofy, boy-ish charm that had you absolutely swooning and now your heart is starting to thrum in your chest.

He moves to sit in the tenor section which is conveniently placed next to yours. You’re hoping to GOD that you don’t end up sitting directly next to him because there’s no way he won’t notice that your body is already vibrating at a high frequency.

After everyone is accounted for in the class, your instructor begins to ask everyone to go around and introduce them self – your name, major, and preferred section. It moves through the circle and you learn that the cute boy’s name is Jeongguk and he has a smile that’s both sexy and adorable. How does that even work?

It comes around to you and you dutifully answer: y/n, criminology major, and soprano 2. Before the next person can go, Jeongguk looks right at you and says “hey, peaches” with a smirk. His eyes crinkling at the corners, and you realize he’s referring to the peach colored Northface jacket you’re wearing.

Unfortunately, this causes a blush to cover your cheeks, about the same color as your jacket. All eyes on you. You duck your head and give a curt smile, signaling for the next person to go.

Everything else goes smoothly from that point on, that is, until seat placements are made. Of course, as fate would have it, your instructor places you on the edge of your section, right next to Jeongguk. Your voice apparently blends well with his.

You all take your seats and you make sure to hold your breath when he takes his next to you. Immediately, you notice his cologne. Probably Axe Body Spray, but he still smells good nonetheless, and you’re forcefully having to restrain yourself from rolling your eyes into the back of your head. WHAT is wrong with me?? 

He flashes his charming grin at you as he places his hands on his thighs, rubbing them up and down.

Oh god those thighs-

Stop, stop being such a perv

“’Sup peaches?” You want to be annoyed that he already has a nickname for you, but you can’t help but feel tingly all over when the word graces across his lips. You shake your head slightly, realizing your staring a bit. “Hi, Jeongguk,” you say while avoiding eye-contact now because you don’t know if you’ll be able to break your eyes away from him again. “Ahh, just call me Gguk,” he says this as he ruffles your hair a bit.

Your eyes go wide at the touch, “Oh- I- okay,” is all you can muster, and he chuckles at you. Running his hand through his dark brown hair, “this is gonna  be a fun semester, y/n.”

That’s it. You’re dead meat. You won’t make it the whole semester.

Your thoughts the entire rest of the day were filled with his melodic laugh, his enticing voice, his muscular thighs, and the cute dimples that occasionally made an appearance when he blessed you with his bunny-like smile.

You felt like you were back in high school. Who has a crush this intense anymore? It had your hormones racing, images of his large hands on your hips and his pink lips on your neck as you ride his thig- JESUS CHRIST, I think I need church.

You roll over in your twin bed, groaning, and bring your covers up over your head in an attempt to snuff out the fire that was trying to burn its way through you. You needed to go to sleep and focus on the important major classes you would have for the rest of the week (and certainly not about the one other chorus class you would have with a certain flirtatious boy).

The week flew by without a hitch, but then again, it was only syllabus week so you couldn’t really expect it to be too bad anyway. Except, you had one more class with the boy who had you flustered and fumbling over your words after one conversation.

This time you would have a plan. You’d busy yourself by talking to your friends from last semester, some other soprano 2′s that sat in your section, until it comes time to pull out your sheet music. That should work, right?

Well, that’s what you thought anyway. And it had been going to plan, until he tapped you on your shoulder to get your attention. I mean you couldn’t outright  ignore him, could you? So, to your dismay, you turn around to take in his light wash jeans and blue turtleneck sweater.

He looked so boyfriend it physically hurt.

He was sitting down in his chair and pointing with his thumb to the big windows behind you, where you could see the snow covered ground and more flakes falling. “Wanna go play with me in the snow?” He had to be kidding right? You couldn’t skip class, but also, why would he want you to go play with him? Out in the snow, that is.

His question had you blinking and stuttering, all while he had a cheeky smile on his face, like he knew what he was doing to you. He just chuckled to himself and turned back in his seat, grabbing his sheet music, and clearly not expecting an answer. What were you supposed to say to that anyway? Holy fuck this boy was wild. 

“Gguk is so flirting with you,” you heard from your right side. “Wh-what?” your eyes looking back at your friend. “Oh come on, y/n, you aren’t that dense, are you? Why else would a boy give you a nickname and purposely make you turn  into an idiot in his presence?” Oh my god. “Is it that obvious?” You smacked your palm into your forehead. She simply nodded at you, patted your shoulder and wished you luck. 

You tried your best to focus on your setlist for the remainder of class, but it was so hard to ignore the handsome boy next to you. His voice was better than anyone else’s you had ever heard before, and he kept running his fingers through his hair. You wanted so badly to be able to run your own hands through his soft brown hair.

Despite his distracting charm, you were able to keep your eyes to yourself (or in the direction of your friends, at least) until class was over. It wasn’t until you were slinging your backpack over your shoulder and making your way toward the hall that he grabbed your elbow. “Peaches, wait,” he sounded out of breath for some reason. You turn around with bambi eyes, not sure what he could possibly want from you.

“Where are you going?” he asks as he falls into an easy stride next to you. “Uh, I have a short break for lunch before my next class.” He nods and continues to walk next to you. “What’re you doing?” you ask him pointedly. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m walking you to lunch.” You blinked at him, confusion painting your face. “Wh- why?” you’ve stopped walking now. “You’re cute,” he chuckles, putting his hands into his pockets and starting to walk in the direction of the dining hall. 

You start to walk with him again, “we’re friends, aren’t we? I didn’t think it’d be a problem for me to walk you to the dining hall on my way to class.” Your cheeks start to burn, you feel bad that that you had given him that impression. You were just so confused as to why he was taking such an interest in you. “N-no it’s okay,” but by the time you give this answer, you’re already there and he’s turning slightly to head toward his class. “I’ll see you next week, peaches,” he  shouts to you, giving you a wink, and his milliwatt smile. 

The first half of your semester went by faster than you thought it would, and you had actually managed to stop feeling like a moron around Gguk (most of the time). You and him had gotten into a rhythm, you guys talked to each other in class - sometimes he’d flirt and make you laugh, he’d walk you to the dining hall, and occasionally you would meet up to hang out with him outside of class.

However, that didn’t mean you didn’t still have a raging crush on him that made your mind feel hazy and send heat through your whole body. This much was evident when he decided to skip his class one day and join your for lunch.

You both had opted for grilled chicken and french fries because your dining hall sucks and that was the safest option. The two of you fell into easy conversation with the occasional comfortable silence. He talked about his classes and how in his free time he’s been working on a mixtape. “I mean I figured you liked music considering you’re in chorus with me, but I didn’t know you were that into it!” He gives you a dimpled bunny smile and nods his head a bit, “yeah, maybe you could come over and listen to my stuff sometime.”

There’s a slight blush to his cheeks that you’ve not seen before. If you had to guess, you’re probably the first girl he’s ever offered to share his own music with. So, you take the opportunity to be bold while his coquettish demeanor is wavering.

“Oh, so would that be, like, our second date then?” You take a sip of your water, sneaking a glance over the cup to see the doe-eyed expression he’s giving you now. His mouth bobbed a bit like a fish’s before he managed to get words out, “did I miss our first date?” You giggle at how taken aback he seems to be. “Well, you went through all this effort to skip class and eat lunch with me,” you say with a lilt in your voice. “Oh please, peaches. You call this effort? I’d do way more than just this.”

Now it’s your turn to blush. Your boldness gone the second he calls you by the affectionate name. “Is this your way of trying to get me to take you out?” He asks this question with his tongue poking into his cheek, eyebrows cocked. “N-no!! I was just messing with you!” He grabs your plate, along with his, as you both get up to exit the dining hall. “To late now, I’ll text you when I’ve got it all planned out.” He winks at you as he puts the dishes on the conveyor belt and exits the building with a wave. Fuck.

New Message From Gguk:

[3:04pm] be ready tonight around 7:30

To Gguk:

[3:07pm] tonight?? where are you taking me?

From Gguk:

[3:09pm] don’t worry about it. just wear something casual

To Gguk:

[3:10pm] ugh you’re infuriating, but okay.

[3:12pm] you’re not gonna murder me in some back alley are you?

[3:13pm] omg you are aren’t you??

From Gguk:

[3:14pm] y/n.. our campus is huge with many secluded areas. if I wanted to murder you I would have done it by now 

To Gguk:

[3:15pm] and yet somehow that answer isn’t reassuring at all. I’ll be ready by 7:30

Okay, so this was a bit short notice considering he only told you roughly 4 hours ahead of time, but he said to wear something casual so that should be plenty of time, right?

You decide to focus back onto your homework for the next hour or so. You’re able to do that for about 30 minutes but then you start thinking. I haven’t shaved my legs in over a week. He said casual but I should still look casually cute. What am I supposed to do with my hair now that the humidity is back?? Panic. Panic is setting in.

You slam shut your textbook and notes, and start to make your way to your dorm room. Once you’re there you begin to rummage through your closet and dresser drawers. The flinging of clothes and 45 minutes later, you finally settle on a pair of black ripped jeans, a flowy, strappy white top, and some white converse.

2 hours and 30 minutes left.

You didn’t think it would, but it did in fact take you that entire two and a half hours to finish getting ready, but you were pleased with the way you looked. This was more effort than you usually put in considering no one ever looks nice  when they have 8:00am classes.

You also didn’t think you’d be phased by seeing Jeongguk dressed ready for a date because he always looked good, but the second you laid eyes on him, in his light wash ripped denim, black tee, leather jacket, and matching bucket hat, you knew you were a goner. 

“You know it’s not polite to stare with a gaping mouth right?” he asks as he uses his index finger to gently push your chin up, closing your mouth for you. “I- I’m sorry. You look great, Gguk,” you say as you look down at your feet. You’re avoiding eye contact now since he caught you ogling him. “You look  great too, y/n. I like your converse, a nice touch!” he says in that smooth and charming way he has about him. With that, he grabs your hand and leads you to his car to drive you off to god-knows-where.

Much to your surprise, he takes you to the local town fair. You’d never really participated in these types of things before because you had this ideal (probably from watching The Notebook one too many times) that fairs were romantic and meant for couples only.

However, you both had an incredible night, despite your reservations. He bought you cotton candy to share, you rode the ferris wheel together (sans hanging off the edge of it), scared each other in the fun house, and he even won you a stuffed teddy. It occurred to you that you hadn’t had this much fun in a while, and certainly not with a boy since you started college. He made you laugh, held your hand, and paid attention to you. It all felt a bit like a dream, what with all the pretty colors and twinkling lights around you.

You felt kind of sad that the date was ending as he drove you both back to campus. This date had allowed your crush to bloom into actual feelings and you were starting to worry about the days following. Would everything just go back to the way it was? Would he pretend like the date hadn’t happened? Did he even like you like that?

Luckily for you, you weren’t able to ruminate for too long on those negative thoughts because the car had come to a halt and you were suddenly back on campus. “You’ve been kind of quiet since we left the fair. What’re you thinking in there?” he pokes at your head for emphasis. “Oh, nothing! I had a really great time tonight,” you’re hoping you sound convincing enough so he doesn’t pry his way into your private thoughts. “Well, the night doesn’t have to end yet. We can hang out in my room for a bit if you want? My roommate is never here on the weekends, so the awkwardness of him being there is eliminated.”

Stunned. Yup, that would be an accurate word for what you felt in that moment.

“You’re gaping again, peaches. Am I going to have to be the one to teach you some manners?” He tsks at you and shakes his head, but there’s a smirk on his face. There’s also a darkness to his eyes. One that sends heat right to your core, and has you nodding your head to him in an instant. Your head feels cloudy as you walk to his dorm room, hand-in-hand, as if you’re caught under his spell again.

Once you’re there, the spell seems to drop and your nervousness is back. The room is dark, except for the soft glow of a lamp on his desk that he’s turned on. “I know you said we’d do this on our second date, but I figured we could merge the two,” he says handing you a set of headphones. Broken from your worried state, you realize he’s about to show you his music. The folder is labeled “JJK1″ and his angelic voice starts to flow into your ears, overwhelming your senses. 

He’s singing in a lower register, the words feel emotional and meaningful. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever heard before. You look up at him and he’s not making eye contact with you, “this is amazing, Gguk.” You both listen for another minute or two before he hits pause and finally looks back at you. “Seriously, your music is so good.” You set the headphones back on their display and he does the same. “You really think so?” You nod, and there’s a shift in the air. 

You’re both staring into each other’s eyes, then his own flicker down to your lips briefly. You’re starting to feel squirmy under his gaze, and you move to look away. To say something dumb about how his room is tidier than you thought it would be, but he’s quicker than you, grabbing your jaw to turn your head back and plant his soft, pink lips onto yours.

There’s tingles all over your body the second his lips are moving with yours. He’s careful with you as he brings a hand up to cup your neck. It feels like he’s scared to break you, but at the same time you can feel a sense of urgency lingering behind his tongue. You suppose this whole semester has built up the anticipation of this very moment. You don’t want him to be careful though, you’ve been waiting for this moment the second he walked into your chorus class.

Lips never leaving yours, he slowly walks you over to his bed. He sits on the edge of it and pulls you into his lap. With the tilt of his head he’s deepening the kiss. His tongue skating across your lips, asking for entrance, to which you gladly give him. His expert tongue maps the inside of your mouth as you’re moaning into his own. 

Taking that as a good sign, he runs his large hands over your hips, landing with a firm grip on your ass. He squeezes your flesh, effectively causing some friction between you and his thighs. That has you moaning again. You couldn’t even count the amount of times you’d thought of being in this position. The chance to ride his thick, muscular thighs to heaven and back. You were growing wet just at the thought of it.

“Is this okay?” he asks even though he can probably tell that what he’s doing is very okay. You nod eagerly and make a sound close to mhm to indicate that you don’t want this to stop. The second you give him the okay to continue, his lips are back on yours and he uses his hands to rock you back and forth on his thigh. Even through your jeans, the friction feels electrifying. It appears he feels the same way considering his growing length in his own jeans, creating an obvious tent. 

You break from kissing to let out a series of whimpers and groans from the heat that is building up inside of you. You head lolling back to allow Gguk the opportunity to lick a stripe up your neck to your jaw. Nipping and sucking at you every now and then. Everything feels too good. It’s all so surreal considering you’ve been pining for him for so long. 

“You look so pretty riding my thigh like that,” he says in between planting kisses along your collarbone. “I’ve caught you checking me out before, I bet you’ve wanted this since the first time I sat next to you.” Now he’s lifting your shirt over your head, exposing your light gray mesh bralette to him. 

Your hips never ceasing their movement, he brings his mouth down to your mesh covered nipple and laves his tongue over it. He notices your sharp intake of breath and a barely there fuck coming from you. “I love how sensitive you are to everything,” he sucks the nipple into his mouth for a moment before he makes his way over to the other one. This time he moves the bralette to the side so you can feel the full effect of his tongue. He rotates between swirling and gently flicking his tongue over the hardened bud. 

It’s now very clear to you that the heat inside of you will be coming to a head soon if he continues. He’s very much able to pick up on your impending climax, so he takes the nipple into his mouth and begins to suck, all the while holding you down harder on his thigh as he rocks you back and forth. “Shit, I- I’m gonna come if you don’t stop,” you say breathlessly. “Now why would I want to do that, peaches?” his mouth now moving back to suck on the other nipple. He breaks away with a wet *pop* and brings a hand down to smack your ass. “Come on, I know you can come like this. Come all over my thigh like the good little girl I know you are.” 

Your hair is starting to stick to you a little, sweaty from the exertion used to keep up the hard pace. The string inside of you is ready to snap any second. “Please, please, Gguk,” you whine to him, hoping he understands what you need. With both hands firmly in place on your ass, he sets a deadly pace and a flex of his muscle to cause the friction to burn straight to your slick core. You’re moaning his full name now as you feel yourself come undone around his thigh. Pulsing against him, your head slack on his shoulder, and your hips slowing down to ride out your orgasm. “Such pretty sounds when you come for me. I want to hear it again,” he says as he leaves sweet kisses on your lips.

He moves you from his lap to his bed, helping you out of your skinny jeans because your legs are aching now and you can’t find the energy to do it yourself. He takes in your form and the matching light gray mesh thong you’re wearing. “Were you hoping for this, baby? It’s okay if you were, I was hoping for it too.” You don’t know how you got to this place, but you were thanking whatever god it was that blessed you with this much luck.

Within moments, he’s undressed himself and you hear a wrapper crinkling over by his desk where he’s standing. He climbs back onto the bed and hovers over top of you. “You still doing okay?” he’s more considerate than you would have imagined a guy with his good looks would be, but you’re grateful for it. You smile at him and tilt your head up to kiss his lips and then his cheek. “God, look at you,” he says as he sits back on his heels, admiring the girl in front of him. 

He bends down to press kisses into your inner thigh, bringing two fingers to hook into the waist band of your thong and tug it down. He can see a string of your wetness stretch between you and your thong before it breaks when he brings his fingers to your slit. A drawn out moan leaves your mouth, his fingers feel so good now that they’re finally where you need them. “Fuck, you’re so wet for me.”

He presses two fingers into you and they slide in with ease considering you’ve already finished once before. He uses his other hand to rub soft circles into your clit. Your breathing is becoming heavier now and you desperately want to feel his thick length inside of you. You can see his cock twitch at the sounds you make. It’s veiny and so so pink at the tip, no doubt leaking with precum. You’d be willing to bet anything that you’ll feel so full with him inside of you.

As if to read your mind, he pushes a third finger inside. “You ready, baby? I don’t know how much longer I can wait to feel you around my cock.” His words have you keening and moving your hips in time with his fingers. His other hand now moves from your clit to his length, rubbing up and down before he teasingly slaps it against your core a few times, causing you to bite harshly into your lip. 

But then he’s pushing it in and you swear you see stars. He moves your legs so your thighs are against your chest now. “Ohhhhh my god,” you whine out to him as he bottoms out inside of you. “Fuck, you’re so tight, y/n.” He stills for a moment to allow you to adjust, but then he begins to move languidly. Thrusting ever so gently against that sensitive spot inside of you due to the position.

He leans down all the way to plant kisses along your chest, up your collarbone, and onto your neck. Lazy licks causing your heart to beat rapidly and moans escape your lips. His thrusts become rougher with each passing second, still never missing that signature spot inside of you, and it’s mind numbing.

He brings a hand down to your clit to rub figure eights into the bundle of nerves. “Please, d- don’t stop,” he grunts at the neediness he can hear in your voice. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you. I’ll make sure you feel good,” He punctuates this with a particularly hard thrust into you and you let out a loud moan, curses following behind. 

You’re so wet now and all you can think about is how good it feels to have him inside of you. You never want to let go of the feeling of his strong hands on you, sweat occasionally dripping from his hair, and his cock pounding into you. His first time fucking you and he already seems to know exactly what you like. Knowing not to rub your clit too much because it’s extra sensitive, that grabbing your ass will have your walls clenching around him, and kissing your neck leads to you mewling his name. All of this, in turn, causing him to feel rock hard, ready to burst his load any second. 

“You’re such a good girl, you know that? Taking me so well and ready to come for me again,” he says this as he slows his pace down a bit. He wants you to feel every inch of him, savor the feeling, because soon enough he’s going to have both of you falling apart. He lets one of your thighs down and grabs onto the other, using it as an anchor. “God, you feel so good around me. Come again for me, baby. I wanna see your face this time while you cream my cock for everything it’s worth.

With his thumb on your clit and his words stuck in your head, you’re all of about two seconds away from losing yourself on him. He picks up his pace again, slamming into you over and over and over again until you can’t take it anymore. Juices gush out of you as you practically scream, complete and total ecstasy taking over your body. “That’s it, such a good girl coming for me again,” he says as he helps you ride through your second orgasm of the night. 

“Jesus, y/n, you got.. so.. wet,” his thrusts growing sloppy now. His bottom lip is sucked between his teeth and his brown eyes are filled with need. He quickly pulls out, rips the condom off, and pumps himself just briefly before he’s spilling his seed onto your stomach. A slur of curses and your name leaving his mouth. Rope after rope of the white liquid coating you, his own personal masterpiece laid out in front of him.

When he’s finally finished, he falls back onto his heels, head lolling as he tries to steady his breathing. You think he looks so good fucked out. You could look at him like this for the rest of your life. Then again, you could look at him in any state for the rest of your life. This was a three year long crush (turned into feelings) in the making, after all.

“You look so perfect like this,” he says as he takes in your state. Sweat glistening on your skin, lips swollen and red, and his cum painted on your stomach. “Hold on, I’ll get something for you,” he says before he gets up to go discard the condom and grab a towel. He helps clean you both up and hands you a sweatshirt of his. “It’s pretty late now, you can spend the night if you want and wear that so you’re more comfortable. I’ll turn on a show or something for us.” He changes the sheets on his bed while you change and throw your hair up into a messy bun, ready for bed now.

You both settle into the now clean bed and he turns on New Girl. You curl up next to him, head resting on his taut chest and a leg slung over his. “So I know we just had our first and second date, but does this count as our third?” he says in a joking tone, and even though you can’t see him, you can tell he’s smiling. “I dunno, does that mean we’ll have a fourth?” He chuckles at you and kisses the top of your head, “anything you want, peaches.” 

You had worried at the beginning of the semester that Gguk would flirt and  taunt you endlessly and with no real reward, but you were wonderfully wrong. You were also pretty sure that this was just the beginning and that thought has butterflies swimming inside of you. This charming boy had you wrapped around his finger, and unbeknownst to you, you had him wrapped around yours.

#Jeon Jungkook #Jungkook #Jeon Jeongguk #Jeongguk #Jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jungkook one shot #bts jungkook #bts smut #bts fluff #bts fic #bts one shot #jungkook x reader #fluff #smut #pining #high school crush #slow burn #bangtan #Peaches #bts #maknae smut society

[dameronology]

love in the time of p.t.a. meetings {marcus moreno} - 4/5

summary: after a few months of slightly chaotic bliss, you & marcus start to think about the next steps in your relationship. {series masterlist}

warnings: swearing 

this is up a little later than i wanted & i do apologise, i once again stayed up all night and i cannot recount a single thing i’ve done. enjoy!

- jazz

Things between you and Marcus quickly fell into a routine.

You kind of had to when you both had kids; their lives needed structure. Depended on it, in fact. It wasn’t long before both of your lives were entangled in more ways than one, mostly for the sake of Missy and Jack having security around them but also because things between you were so good. Neither of you were trying to rush by any means, but when it worked, it worked. You were both good at communicating with each other - not that many issues really cropped up - and you both understood that your children came first. Things progressed easily and naturally, and he made you feel secure enough that you didn’t have to question whether or not it was too good to be true. 

Five months had quickly passed and you were both comfortable. Marcus Moreno was your boyfriend and it wasn’t a big deal. Okay, it had been at first - especially the first time he planted a kiss on your lips in front of the minivan brigade - but now? It was normal. It felt like he’d always been there, and you took it as a good sign. You got on well with Missy, especially since she’d witnessed your spat with Carol and started to think the world of you, and Jack...well, he was obsessed with Marcus. You couldn’t blame the kid. 

‘Jack! Put the soup down!’ 

It was another one of those mornings. It was a Sunday, so you didn’t have to worry about getting up early for school or work but you’d been at Marcus’ till late the night before. You and Jack ended up spending a lot of time at his; there was a swimming pool and a big garden for Optimus Prime to run around in, so it tired both of your tiny spawns out, which worked in your favour.

 Even when the kid had spent four hours swimming last night, he’d still risen that morning at 6AM like Jesus Christ on the third day. You’d woken to find the kitchen covered in smashed eggs and ham, then your oven had broken and the toilet was blocked again. 

You’d been halfway through reversing the problem when you’d heard Jack shuffling in the kitchen. You were stood in the hallway, still in your pyjamas, with a toilet brush in one hand and the other balled up into a fist. 

‘Jack, the soup is about to-’

You paused mid-sentence, watching as the bowl he was trying to reach for toppled straight off of the counter. You’d only washed his hair ten minutes ago, and you might as well have not fucking bothered because it was now covered in chunky vegetable soup. And the Chewbacca onesie he loved so much? Trying to peel that off him for the next few hours to wash the Heinz out of it was going to be a whole task in itself. You’d only just been to the laundrette the day before, and you’d gotten to the point in life where having a place with its own washing machine was a sign of success. 

‘Mum, there’s soup in my hair.’

‘It’s okay.’ You took a moment to breath. ‘We are not going to cry.’

‘I’m not crying.’

‘Wasn’t talking to you, buddy.’ You rubbed your temples for a moment. ‘C’mon, let’s go hop in the bath.’

So much of parenting was just...stopping to breath. Stopping to take a moment to remind yourself that although your love for your child was unwavering and unconditional, you sometimes felt like screaming. All you’d done for the last five hours was go in circles, cleaning and lecturing and cleaning some more. It made you wish you were at work that day, because at least then you could have conversations with people that weren’t about what cheese they wanted for lunch or what cartoon they wanted to watch. 

‘I just had a bath.’ Jack muttered. 

‘Yeah well, you need another one.’ You took another deep breath. ‘I’ll be there in a minute-’

‘- I don’t want a bath!’

‘And I don’t want a kid that’s covered in soup!’ You shot back. ‘C’mon, buddy. Just do as I say, please?’

Your conversation was interrupted by a knock at the door. You frowned for a moment - you weren’t expecting anyone. There was no post on Sundays and you hadn’t seen your landlord since the day you’d moved in. Your nosey neighbour knocked sometimes, usually asking about the noise (he didn’t have kids, clearly) and you were this close to telling him to mind his own fucking business. 

‘I swear to god, if that’s David again, I am going to shove this can of soup up his - Marcus!’ You almost did a double take when you saw your boyfriend stood at the door - he really chose his times, didn’t he? You hadn’t even had time to put the fucking toilet brush down. ‘Hey.’ 

‘Hey, baby.’ He greeted you slowly, eyes slowly taking in your appearance (and not in a sexy way). ‘Were you not expecting me?’

‘Shit, did we have plans?’ Your eyes widened. 

‘No, but Jack called. He said you’d asked him to ask me to come over, but I realise half way through that sentence that starting with Jack called probably means you had no idea.’ He offered you a goofy smile. ‘He said that the sofa had exploded and that you needed help.’

There was a lot to unpack there. When had Jack done that? More to the point, when had he learnt to use the phone? How had he worked out your phone password? The kid couldn’t do up his own velcro and now he was a Russian hacker, apparently. 

‘Oh my god.’ You groaned. ‘I am so sorry. Things have been batshit here this morning and I’m sure he had my best interests in his weird little heart, but he made you come all this way-’

‘- Marcus!’ Speaking of the devil.

Jack pushed past you, wrapping his arms around Marcus’ waist. He leant down to pick him up, lifting him off the ground - albeit at a distance, due to Soupgate. 

‘Hey, buddy.’ He greeted him. ‘You been causing trouble again?’

‘Not on purpose.’ Jack replied. ‘Mum says I need another bath.’

‘I think she’s right.’ Marcus said. ‘Why don’t you go pick out some clothes and come back in a minute, yeah?’

‘Okay!’ Seemingly impressed by the newfound trust in him to choose an outfit, Jack wriggled himself back down to the floor, trotting towards his bedroom. Seriously, how did Marcus do that? Perhaps his ability to have authority over your archaic child was another hidden power of his. 

‘You look like you need a break, baby.’ He reached out, gently running a hand down your arm.

‘I’m fine, he’s just been a lot today.’ You sighed.

‘You have soup on your shirt and fluff in your hair.’

‘Couch stuffing.’

‘Huh?’

‘It’s couch stuffing. Except that was Optimus Prime and not Jack, which makes a nice change.’ You muttered.

‘Look, Missy is at her abuela’s today and she’s been begging for ages to see Jack again.’ He said. ‘What d’you say I drive him over there, you clean up and we hang out? Just us, no kids, no dogs, no stress.’

‘That sounds like a fucking dream.’ You couldn’t help but smile. ‘But Optimus has consumed half the couch and I gotta keep an eye on him-’

‘-we can bring him with us!’ Marcus grinned. ‘He loves the garden.’

‘Are you sure? Because I remember you saying you had work plans today and I don’t want you to cancel them on account for the fact I can’t control my own kid. Or life.’

‘You two come first.’ He said it as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. ‘Three, including Optimus Prime.’

--

In the time it took Marcus to drive Jack to his mum’s and get back to yours, you were able to clean up. The apartment was still a state, but it hadn’t been properly tidy in...how many days had it been since Jack was born? Because it hadn’t been clean in exactly that many days. You felt a little bad dumping him on Anita when he was still covered in soup, but if anyone was able to wrestle him into the bath and some clean clothes, it was her. You’d met her a few times and she was absolutely lovely, but you had no doubt she could be terrifying when need be. She was the sort of woman you aspired to be.

By midday, you were driving out the city. There was music playing quietly over the radio and you were watching the houses go by; even though it was cold out, you had the heater on and you were bundled up in a leather jacket, Marcus’ scarf snugly around your neck. It smelt faintly of his aftershave, which had become one of your favourite scents over the last five months. The time had gone so quickly. You’d seen each other practically every day since then, and having the kids meant you’d been fallen into being domestic pretty quickly. The simplicity of it all - him and you and getting to this point so easily - was overwhelming in itself. 

Your first relationship had been so complicated - so finicky and filled with unnecessary arguments. That should have been a sign early on, but then you’d gotten pregnant with Jack and getting married had seemed like the obvious thing to do. His presence meant you wouldn’t have changed anything, not for the entire fucking world, but it made you a little sad to think about how long you’d wasted on what had clearly been the wrong person. Meanwhile, Marcus’ situation had been entirely different; he’d had the right person the first time around and then he’d lost them. You never felt like a replacement to his wife, or even thought about the notion, really. That had been another part of his life. You were a new part and it didn’t mean he was forgetting the past. The two could co-exist without taking away from each other. 

‘You’re deep in thought.’ Marcus observed. He moved one of his hands to rest on your leg, giving it a light squeeze. He did that a lot, usually whenever you were sat beside him at the table or on the sofa. It was just a him thing. 

‘Yeah, sorry.’ You tore your gaze away from the window. ‘My brain always goes a little into overdrive when things are quiet.’

He chuckled. ‘What’s on your mind?’

‘You, actually.’ You tangled your fingers with his, thumb brushing over the back of his hand. ‘I was just thinking about lucky I am and how good things are, and how it almost feels too good to be true.’

‘Better believe it, baby.’ He replied. ‘Because it is true.’

‘I know.’ You peered over at him with a smile. ‘It’s just...my only perceptions of relationships were based on the single one I’ve had. Everything was so complicated and exhausting. This is completely different and it’s so nice. And normal. And I don’t know, that sounds stupid-’

‘- it’s not stupid at all.’ Marcus peered over at you, shaking his head. ‘It’s natural to be a little apprehensive after a bad relationship and if there’s anything I can do to help, you just have to tell me. You know that, right?’

Maybe it was the way he said it, or maybe it was just him, but you knew for certain that he meant that. There was sort of a silent agreement now that you were both in this for the long haul. Your mum had always said that you’ll know when you know but you’d always written that off. Mostly because you hadn’t known the first time round. But, now you did. You did know and though you weren’t going to admit that to Marcus, you never doubted him for a second. 

‘I do.’ You said. ‘But he’s in the past now - and hopefully it’s where he fucking stays.’

‘I have contacts. I can find him and set Miracle Guy on him.’ Marcus’ grin had returned. ‘Just say the word.’

‘You make a tempting offer.’ You smiled back at him. ‘But the past is the past and I’m ready to...slam the lid on that dumpster.’

‘Do you think he’ll ever want to come back into Jack’s life?’

You pondered for a moment. ‘I don’t think so, but if he did, I dunno if I’d let him. I never wanna be the person who stops someone from seeing their kids but what he did was...it was unforgivable.’

‘You don’t have to make that decision until it actually happens.’ Marcus gently said. ‘And I’ll support whatever you choose.’

He pulled into the drive way of his house - his nice, clean, sofa-stuffing-and-soup free house. Optimus Prime leapt out the car as soon as the door was open, practically tearing past the two of you and down towards the yard. There was a moment of silence and then a splash!

‘Guess he found the pool.’ Marcus commented. ‘At least it’s heated, I s’pose.’

Truth be told, he loved having the three of you at his house. It felt like whatever had been missing before was slowly making an appearance as your relationship progressed. The irony was that you brought nothing but chaos and clutter with you, but that was exactly what made it feel like a home. It was small things; the painting that Jack had done for him at after school club was now hung up up on the fridge, and there was a photo of him and Missy on the fireplace with Optimus Prime. Half of the thousands of blankets of pillows that had been at your place had ended up on his sofa, thanks to the countless sleepovers. 

If he could have it his way, Marcus would have you live with here all the time. The energy that you and Jack brought made everything feel complete. He loved the evenings where Missy and Jack would play out in the pool, and you two would sit back inside, complaining about the cold. Then there were the nights where you’d take both the kids back here when he was working late, and he’d come home to find you piled on the couch watching an old movie, with your burnt cooking abandoned on the stove, surrounded by boxes of left over take out. It was the kind of thing that was so simple and so domestic, but it was everything he wanted. 

That was probably the flashpoint moment when Marcus Moreno realised he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. He already knew he loved you - he’d worked that out about three months in, when you’d fallen asleep in one of his shirts whilst trying to wait up for him - but he hadn’t said it. He’d hinted at it and made back-handed comments but he’d barely admitted it to himself, let alone to anyone else. He knew what you and Jack had gone through before and it broke his entire fucking heart. You both deserved someone who stand by you and support you, someone who would embrace you both for the craziness and warm energy you brought everywhere with you. More than ever, he was realising he wanted to be that person who gave it you. After all, you’d made his life so much brighter without even trying.

Snapping out of his trance, Marcus looked over at you. You’d already ditched your shoes and dropped onto the sofa, pulling one of the blankets with you. This was exactly what you needed. A quiet house, your favourite person and a cable knit blanket. 

‘Hey, baby?’ 

You looked over at him, smiling at the name. ‘Yeah?’

‘You know I love you, right?’

You blinked in surprise, sitting up. ‘I know.’

‘You do?’

‘You’ve never said it, but I can tell.’ You nodded, before offering a smile. ‘And I love you too.’

‘I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner.’ He slowly approached you, dropping onto the sofa beside you and taking your hands in his. ‘I think I just got so caught up in everything and feeling everything that I forgot.’

‘Why are you apologising?’ You couldn’t help but scoff at him, leaning forward to press a kiss to his lips. ‘It’s your actions that say it, Marc. Hearing it is good but you showed it a long time ago.’

‘I know, but really you deserve to hear it everyday.’ He smiled against you, helping you move onto his lap. 

‘You do tell me everyday, with the things you do.’ You reminded him. ‘Like meeting me in the parking lot with coffee, or bribing Jack into going to bed early with video messages from your superheroes, or doing my grocery shopping when you know money is short.’

‘Why wouldn’t I do those things?’ Marcus seemed genuinely confused. ‘It’s you.’

‘I love you.’ You repeated the phrase. 

‘And I love you.’

He pulled you into another kiss - this time it was a little firmer, not unlike your second declaration of love. Marcus did all those things without thinking, simply out of his intense want for you to just be happy. He was the same with Missy, always doing little things to make her life easier just because. It was just part of who he was, and it made him happy to see his loved ones happy. 

With your body pressed against his and your hands tangled in your hair, Marcus realised he didn’t want you to ever leave again. He didn’t want you to have to drive home in the dark at ten because all of your stuff was on the other side of town. You did stay over sometimes, but then you’d have to creep out at 6AM with a sleeping Jack in your arms to get home in time to get ready. He wanted you here all the time. You should have been here all the time. 

‘Move in with me?’ 

He both did and didn’t mean to say it out loud. He did because he wanted you so badly to be a permanent fixture in the house, but he also didn’t because the idea might have been a little absurd. Was it too soon? What if you didn’t want to leave your place? He knew you loved your apartment. It was your home and had been for a long time.

‘What?!’ You suddenly pulled back from the kiss, eyes wide. 

‘I mean...if you want to.’ Marcus slowly said. ‘Hell, Missy and I can move to your place if that’s what you want. It might be tight but she loves the dog and I just want to be with you-’

‘- hey!’ You cut him off, planting your hands on his shoulders. ‘You’re rambling again, but that’s besides the point. I would love to live here.’

‘You would?’

‘I would.’ You smiled. 

It made sense. Aside from the glaringly obvious fact you wanted to, it was also practical. It was closer to the school, closer to your work and it had a fucking swimming pool. Marcus was already clearly financially secure and moving in wouldn’t mean relying on him, but it would have meant that things for Jack were a lot more stable. Missy loved the company of you both, and it meant she would finally have the dog she wanted so bad. 

‘Missy would be okay with it, right?’ You asked.

‘She was the one who put the idea in my head, actually.’ Marcus admitted. ‘I’d thought about it but then she kind of asked in passing why you don’t live here, and I couldn’t give her an answer.’

‘Your kid is smart.’

‘D’you think Jack will-’

‘- I’m going to stop you there.’ You cut him off.

‘Right, I probably don’t need to ask that question.’ He chuckled.

‘Exactly.’ You pressed a kiss to his nose. ‘Don’t forget the dog, either.’

‘How could I? I can literally see him peeing on my lawn right now.’

‘Our lawn.’

--

Exactly three weeks later - and after a hefty amount of paperwork and hours of sorting through Jack’s endless amounts of crap that he insisted on hoarding - moving day came. 

Anita had insisted on having the kids again. They were both excited, but perhaps a little too much. They were probably more likely to get in the way of things if anything. Children, a dog and large boxes? It seemed like a match made in hell. Plus, she had a whole ass training course in her back garden and if that didn’t wear the kid out, then you were definitely going to take him to the Heroics to get tested. The thought alone was enough to tire you out. 

You didn’t have too much stuff to move. You’d been half-moved into the damn place before Marcus had even made the formal proposal, so that made things a lot easier. You were keeping your sofa for Jack’s room, but the rest was going to Goodwill. Most of it had come from there in the first place.

‘I think that’s the last box.’ Marcus announced, exiting the bedroom. ‘I didn’t realise that a five year could own so many variations of storm-trooper toys.’

‘Oh, yeah.’ You replied. ‘There’s the original trilogy ones, sequel trilogy ones, dark troopers, shock troopers, clone troopers - and I realise half way through listing them that you don’t care.’

‘I never said that!’ He placed his hands on your waist, pressing a kiss to your forehead. ‘I’m excited to learn.’

‘I’m sure Jack is excited to tell you.’ You grinned. 

Then, it faltered slightly with the realisation you were actually leaving this place. You’d never intended for it to be your permanent home, but it had still been the centre of your entire universe for half a decade. Every room told a story; the crayon marks on the bathroom wall, the dents behind the TV from, the crack in the living room mirror. All caused by Jack, naturally. The last five years was contained entirely within these four walls and you got bleary eyed at the idea of it becoming someone else’s. 

‘Hey, don’t cry.’ Marcus gently wiped away a tear from your cheek. 

‘You know, the rent is still paid till the end of the month so we could revisit the idea of you and Missy living here instead.’ You tearfully smiled. 

‘You’re kidding but you know I’ll do it.’ He pressed another kiss to your nose, grip on your arms tightening. 

‘It’s okay.’ You moved so that the kiss landed on your mouth instead, capturing his lips in a brief kiss. ‘I knew we were gonna outgrow this place. I just didn’t expect it to be so soon.’

‘I know. Still kinda feels like it all came out of no-where, huh?’ He replied. ‘In the best way.’

‘You’re right. In the best way.’ You firmly nodded. ‘Can you believe I was 23 when I moved into this place? I found it on Craiglist within ten minutes of finding out I was pregnant.’

‘Do you wanna take a minute before we go?’

‘No, it’s fine.’ You shook your head. ‘We should get going.’

The apartment was just that: an apartment. And the house you were going to was just that: a house. But the people you were with? That’s what made it count. It wasn’t about the four walls or the roof over your head, or whether or not it had a big yard and a jacuzzi bath tub (though, that did help). It was about the laughter and warmth inside; the faces in the photos on the wall and the people you came home to after a long day. It was the smell of your burnt cooking and the pizza you’d ordered in place. It was Jack’s toys left in the exact place where someone could trip and it was Missy using all the hot water in the morning so that Marcus’ showers were practically arctic. It was everyday things that reminded you of the people around you; the people that made it home, and how lucky you were to have them.

That was home. And you’d found yours. 

taglist: @naivara-duneimith @1-2-3-4-5metalfingers @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky​ @lyanna-the-giantsbane @phoenixhalliwell @crazycookiecrumbles​ @bitchin-beskar​ @comphersjost

#marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno imagine #marcus moreno x you #marcus moreno x y/n #marcus moreno imagines #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character headcanons

[deadinside-butstill-horny]

The Night We Met

Part One - The Night We Met

Pairing: Javier Peña/ Female Murphy!Reader

Words: 5.3k

Summary: Murphy's sister travels to Colombia after realising Steve might not quite be A-Okay and meets the Javier Peña.

Content Warnings: 18+ Smut-ish (I wouldn’t wanna read it out to my mom), dry humping, dirty talk in Spanish which reader doesn’t understand so does it really count?, gratuitous love of the black shirt from the torture scene.

AO3

MASTERLIST

Author Note: So here is my return to writing! The word count got away from me but I loved every second of it. Always after prompts, so drop me a message on here if you'd like to see anything in particular. If it's in my wheelhouse, you'll definitely see it.  

Pedro in the black shirt in this scene is what inspired me to write this, I can’t lie. 

If you were brutally honest with yourself, this spur of the moment decision may have been a mistake. 

Other people could make these choices and not have that nagging feeling in their gut from the second they booked their fuckin' airline ticket. You had attempted to grab life by its metaphorical horns and go and sort this shit show out by yourself, but after your momentarial bravery was used up, all that was left was a crippling anxiety that threatened to send you into a full scale panic attack if you thought too hard about the fact you were following your big brother to Colombia.

Yes, Colombia. You, a U.S. national with no particular interest in hunting Pablo Escobar, had decided to vacation in sunny, crime ridden Bogotá on a whim. 

You were fuckin’ dumb. 

Sarcasm aside, you weren’t actually here on vacation, you were going to check on Stevie. Your brother, one of the DEA agents assigned with taking down Escobar. 

You’d been worried about him for a few months, it had sounded like he was dealing with heavy shit in South America, you knew that was the job, but he was still your brother.

His calls had gotten less and less frequent until he stopped returning them all together and the only reason you knew he was alive were your pep-talks with your sister-in-law, trying to help her keep her shit together, but hell, you weren’t a therapist or a miracle worker. So when Connie rang asking to stay at your place you had obliged and she had returned to Miami a mere shell of her former self. 

After a mammoth amount of prodding over the course of two days you managed to wring the truth out of her, not the nuggets of information she had given you over the phone in hushed whispers during her time in Colombia but the whole messy story; the communist Elisa Alvarez, Steve’s kidnapping and the cold edges your brother was developing. 

It was all you could do not to book the tickets there and then, but you held out and supported Connie in the ways Steve couldn't have, taking care of Olivia when you could and just trying your hardest to be there for her. Your presence alone seemed to be enough to help her through the days that followed.  A week and a half after her return, you booked your flight to Colombia in secret. 

You had to check on Steve. 

He hadn’t answered a single one of your many many calls. You packed light and told Connie the morning of, and whilst she didn’t like it, she understood. You supposed that a part of her was relieved to know her husband would have someone in Colombia that wasn't there to kill him. 

So here you sat, two hours into your flight to the paradise destination; Bogotá. Your brother's address scrawled on a scrap piece of paper in the one hand and a glass of cheap whiskey in the other.  The alcohol did little to to calm your nerves, this was a dangerous place for a cop, let alone a fuckin’ clueless civilian. 

When the plane finally touched down, you stood from your seat emptying the last few drops of whiskey which had tried to evade you onto your tongue, you picked up your backpack and queued to leave the plane.

The second you left the aircraft the humidity hit you like a brick wall, it was like all of the fresh air had been sucked out of the atmosphere. On a normal evening you would appreciate such a warm climate, but now the heat meant frustration to your tired brain and it only added to your baseline levels of anxiety as your hairline and upper lip were drenched as you walked through the arrivals gate.

Cards on the table; you didn’t have much of a game plan, you spoke no Spanish and stuck out like a sore thumb. You had the address but no means to get there, you didn’t relish the idea of getting in a taxi as a woman alone in a foreign country, but with little to no other options you went to hail one of the cabs that sat outside the airport.

Your fears turned out to be for naught, well not quite naught as the man had raked his eyes across your body for a large percentage of the trip in his mirror, but he had the good grace not to kidnap or murder you, which for you meant it was a successful journey, how low you had set the bar was just occuring to you.

After paying the gentleman he dropped you outside what appeared to Steve’s apartment building. You take a moment on the pavement to recollect yourself ready for your reunion. Peeling your denim jacket off, you decide instead to wrap it around your waist, tying the sleeves securely. With a harumph, you grab the handle of your suitcase, and drag it behind you. Your success thus far gives you a second wind of determination.

Though apparently dumb luck can only get you so far, because after heaving your suitcase up a flight of stairs and rapping on the door of apartment 20 until your knuckles ached, it began to dawn on you, you had no clue if this was even the right building.

“Fuck.” you mutter to yourself, you should’ve rang Connie or tried Steve again when you landed, but you’d been so single minded in carrying out your plan all common sense had apparently abandoned you. So with a million different scenarios of things you could’ve done better playing out behind your eyes you dragged your suitcase to the small lobby of the building, where the front door stood.

You huffed and dropped onto the bottom step in surrender, not quite sure where to go from here. 

Weeks of anxiety and worry finally took their toll on your body as reality set in, and as it did so you couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer stupidity of the situation you’d put yourself in. A light chuckle escaped your body as you held your face in your hands,you rubbed at your eyes as a way of refreshing yourself before sighing and leaning back.

You must have sat with your head in your hands for around three hours before anyone of note arrived, you had received strange looks from residents in their comings and goings as they stepped around you, your expectant looks turned to disappointment when you realised they weren’t Steve. In fairness, you, a gringa sitting on the stairs at 2am, most likely wasn’t a daily occurrence to these homeowners.

By the time he came through the door, your eyes were closed and your head was leant on the bannister, trying to get what little rest you could. Your eyes opened a crack to see a man and a woman enter the building and turn right, the man had his arm around her as he stared at you in confusion, the look was so quick you may have missed it if you blinked, but they were talking in low whispers of Spanish and from the looks of things he didn’t give you a second thought. 

So you extended him the same courtesy and shut your eyes once again, you heard the metal jangling of keys going into the lock, the sound of smacking lips and then the door was closed. You figured that was the end of it, instead you heard hurried footsteps coming towards you, your eyes shot open as he rounded the corner.

“Estás bien?” The man questioned. It took you a moment to realise he was talking to you, as you took him in you were struck by your stupidity, how could you have dismissed this man so quickly even in the throes of a mental breakdown. His chocolate brown eyes bore into your own as you realised he was waiting for a response. 

“Uh… no hablo... español?” you pretty much asked him, cringing internally at your butchering of the most basic sentence of this gorgeous strangers language, his lips quirked at your mumbles making his mustache raise on one side with his smirk. Now, you’d never been a fan of a mustache, Steve and your father had both taken to styling their facial hair in such a way, and as a rule of thumb they were a big no-no. But my god. This man made that mustache his bitch and that bitch worked for him.

“You’re American?” He questions, smirk dropping along with his eyebrows in confusion as his brain processes the information.

“Oh thank god and Jesus fuckin’ christ above. You’re American!” Your timid nature had given way to pure unadulterated relief. “Stevie, Steve Murphy, he lives in this building, yeah?”

“Yeah… Stevi...Steve lives here- I’m sorry, who the hell are you?” He asks with a puzzled look and a shake of his head, there’s an air of distrust about him for some strange reason. 

“I’m Y/N Murphy, I’m his sister.”

“Sister? Mierda... does he know you’re here?” 

“Nope,” You pop your P as you shrug at the man before you with false nonchalance. “He’d have to answer the phone to me or Connie to know that now, wouldn’t he?”

“Steve.” The stranger sighed, annoyed. 

“Sorry, who are you?” You asked, yourself becoming more bemused by the man by the second. 

“I’m Steve’s partner, Javier.” He held out his hand which you were more than happy to take in a shake, his tan hand was soft yet strong as it held your own captive within it. “C’mon in I’ll give him a call, God knows what time he’s planning on getting back.”

“Uh, I don’t want to interrupt…” You mumble, waving your free hand vaguely towards where you knew the woman was waiting for him, making him smirk once again. 

You were beginning to think that the sarcastic raise of his mouth was just his default resting face.

“You’re not interrupting anything.”

Now I know what you’re thinking, ‘cause I’d think it to. This is how people die in America, let alone fuckin’ Colombia, but if it's a choice between dying at the hands of a gorgeous man who seems to know your brother or a stray that wonders in through the non-descript lobby door then you’d rather go out with a nice view, even if he did have a girlfriend.

If you had to gamble, you’d say you had a damn good chance of making it out of this apartment alive. 

So you nodded and used the hand he hadn’t released yet to pull yourself up into a standing position. He wasn’t particularly tall but he still towered over you, your eyeline gave you a great view past his black shirt which was unbuttoned quite liberally, you assumed that was courtesy of the woman he’d entered with. 

“Thank you,” you nodded at him with a genuine smile of relief. He didn’t reply, only grabbed the handle of your pull along suitcase before extending his arm towards his apartment and motioning to wordlessly say, after you. 

Now you know how people say when you can feel a stare? You had the sensation before, but as you leaned over to pick up your backpack from the bottom step, you felt his eyes laser focus on your denim clad ass. You turned your head in disbelief and found his eyes still lingered there for a moment before meeting your own. Unbelievable. Part of you was flattered, the other part was bemused that he had a beautiful woman in there waiting and here he was ogling you.

You rolled your eyes, instilled with a new confidence as you turned and walked towards his apartment, you felt his eyes follow your form once more. 

Steve’s hot partner was an ass man... Good to know. 

...

As it turns out Javier’s girlfriend, or what you we’re starting to think was more of a one night stand, was not happy with the situation at all, you came to this discovery as Javier pointed you to the sofa before beginning arguing with her in hushed Spanish, the beautiful woman huffed and sent a dirty look your way before storming out and slamming the door behind her, with enough power to make it shake in its bearings. You raised your eyebrows at Javier from your seat. He shook his head with a sigh and began lighting up a cigarette, he turned and offered you one. 

“No thanks, I quit.”

“Woman with an iron will?”

“Not quite,” You whisper, shaking your head.

He smiles before clearing his throat and moving over to pick up his landline. Javier presses a combination of buttons, before putting it to his ear and blowing the smoke from his lungs. His eyes met yours as the phone rang, he gave you reassuring wink. 

“Murphy? … Yeah…  you need to get back to your place now... You’ve got a guest.... No … come find out why don’t you?” Sarcasm dripped from his lazy tone, his voice was so smooth. It was like chocolate on gravel, you could listen to him talk for hours, which led your mind down that deep dark hole of what he sounded like during more carnal acts, he’d be a talker, for definite, what with all that confidence and swagger. “‘Kay… I’ll see you soon.”

Shaking your head you centred yourself, it had been a dry patch for you. You needed to calm down and not throw yourself at your brother's partner, even if he just so happened to be the first man you had any interest in to show you attention in months. 

“He’s on his way,” He confirmed what you already knew but you liked hearing him speak so you nodded in thanks. An awkward silence filled the air for a few moments, as you two perfect strangers shared one another's company.

“Drink?” He offered pointing at the bottle of whiskey on the counter.

“God, yes.” You all but moaned at the offer. Javier chuckled, and grabbed a second glass from his cupboard, before pouring you both a generous serving.  He walked around the back of the sofa, and passed you the glass of liquid gold and took a seat next to you. Close enough to initiate something, but not touching, quite a respectful distance. 

Initiate something? God Y/N, get your mind out of the gutter. This poor man had only invited you in because you were his partner's sister and he was doing the decent thing. 

“Uh… The television work?” You ask, pointing at the empty screen.

“I didn’t realise you could speak Spanish…” His voice was dripping with false surprise, mocking your earlier attempts at the language, though he reached across and switched the box on with the remote, he began flicking through the channels so quickly he almost gave you a headache.

“Oh yes, I’m very proficient, I just didn’t want to intimidate you earlier. Hola Señor Javier.”  You say continuing his ruse. He chuckles at your words, it's a deep warm noise that shakes his entire frame. You were definitely thinking about adding Javier’s voice to your top ten list of favourite sounds. 

He flicks through the channels, for a few seconds before sighing and dropping the remote in your lap. Taking your assignment seriously, you sit up, bringing yourself a few inches closer to the man next to you, purely accidentally of course and begin flicking through the channels as Javier had done moments before, though 3am TV scheduling left a lot to be desired. 

News, News, Colombian QVC, News, News, Soap opera. Bingo!

“Ah, now we’re talking.” You mumble, eyes stuck on the screen of the Colombian Soap opera playing. The two of you sat in silence once again as you slowly sipped on your drinks watching drama play out. 

You watched in silence for around ten minutes, not understanding a single word of what was being said. The scene was on two latino actors sitting in a bedroom. The woman was sat on the bed being confronted by the man in a serious tone. 

“What is she saying?” You question narrowing your eyes at the beautiful woman's tone. Javier, who had been watching your reactions the whole time as you got into the awful tv show scrambled as he tried to listen and translate the woman's words.

“Uh… her dads an alcoholic and she’s trying to support her son… that guy didn’t know about the son... I think… she was happy living a double life without the worry and she wants him to forgive her and start over…”  Javier translated, giving you the general cliff notes.

“Oh shit,” You gasped at his words, but your attention diverted to the screen where the two had continued their heated argument and began kissing or rather where the man was devouring her neck, “I’m getting vibes that he might be open to forgiving her.” 

You chuckled at your own joke, as did Javier. Though this time when his body shook his bare elbow touched your own. 

How was he so goddamn warm? 

All he was wearing was a black button down shirt. One that looked to be the wrong size it was so tightly fitted- not that you were complaining about the view. My God, were you horny today.

You took a gulp of your drink, trying to refocus for the third or fourth time this evening, trying so desperately to reign in your inner school girl and focus on the television, though that didn’t help as the actors were now eating one anothers faces on a bed. The silence was thick with tension, though that could’ve been entirely on you; one innocent touch of a man's elbow and you’re a blushing mess.  

Get a grip Y/N. 

The silence dragged on as you pretended to watch the soap opera you had absolutely no understanding of in a futile attempt to ignore the man next to you. You can only imagine what he thought of your levels of focus on the tv, as you stared at the box in the corner of the room like it was the greatest cinematic masterpiece of all time and you were getting ready to write a full-scale analysis on the work of art. 

Javier broke the tension in the room by finally asking the question that had been on his lips all evening.

“You came all the way to Colombia... Why?” Javier grabbed a cigarette off of the coffee table, placing his drink where the carton of smokes had been. He lit the stick and waited for your response, honestly, you were thrown. The question had come out of nowhere whilst you were still trying to analyse why exactly this man had such an effect on you when he was doing nothing but being a good host.  You hastened to think up a half coherent reply before you just answered truthfully. 

“Steve stopped answering the phone, I mean he’s always been shitty at checking in, even when he was in Miami. When he got here we’d have a catch up every week or so, we all know how dangerous it is for you guys over here, so we joked about calling it ‘the alive check’. For the last couple of months, I was checking in with Connie more than Steve but he’d still pick up once every week, without fail. Then four weeks ago the fucker stopped answering my calls all together and Connie showed up on my doorstep with Olivia in tow last week.”

“Look, you coming down here probably makes more problems than it solves, Steve’s a big boy if he doesn’t call to check in, it's probably ‘cause he’s busy...  He’s-” Something about Javier’s dismissive tone rubbed you the wrong way, call it sleep deprivation or blame the weeks of stress, but you were tired of being called paranoid. You were not an overbearing mother hen.

“My brother always answers my calls. Or at least he used to. I can’t begin to understand what you guys are going through, but I’m not losing my brother to some piece of shit Colombian drug dealer.” 

Javier raised his hands in mock surrender, cigarette still in mouth. “He’s actually more of a drug lord slash narcoterrorist, but-”

“How is he?” You interrupt Javier’s attempt at diffusing the situation with humor, turning to him on the sofa. You rearranged yourself, bringing your leg up so your knee touched his thigh as you gave him your full attention,  you plucked the smoke from between his lips and held it between your two fingers as you spoke. “Tell me Steve’s fine. Tell me I’m worrying for nothing and I’ll get back on that plane and leave tomorrow morning."

You take one drag and offer it back to him, he accepts it, deliberately looking you in the eyes as he places the cigarette in his mouth, attaching his lips to where your own had been seconds earlier.  He takes it from his mouth and stubs it on an ash tray that rests on the arm of the sofa, his focus is single minded on his task. The pressure in your lower stomach is mounting as you stare at the tanned man before you who is carrying out a menial task that has you more turned on than you’d ever admit. 

When the red tip is extinguished thoroughly, taking much longer than you thought it needed to, Javi turns to you, his mahogany eyes have you pinned in your tracks. You found yourself admitting they were gorgeous for the second time this evening, they were the type of brown you could never quite describe, they had so much depth, not quite a chocolate, not quite coffee, they were rich and deep pools. They reminded you of the forest, not the green leaves but the earthy brown, the strong beams of wood that held everything up around it.

Javier's hand emigrated forward slowly, your eyes followed the movement in your peripheral but you didn’t dare look away from the pools of molasses as he reached to grip one hand at your denim thigh, his eyes roamed your face for any sign of this being an unwelcome approach and when he found none his other hand began its climb to rest on your jaw, just below your ear.

You couldn’t say if you moved towards him or if he advanced on you, all you knew was he was on you now as the tips of your noses rubbed against one another.

“Quiero saborearte…” He whispered so lowly you barely even heard it before he leaned in that last inch and captured your lips in a single, chaste kiss. Your lips connected and you realised the heat you had felt from his arms had been nothing. Fire coursed through your veins upon contact, surging through your blood and going south to a pressure that built in your lower stomach. 

Your hand shot up to land on his collarbone, before you could even really consider your own actions you pulled apart until your foreheads were the only thing touching.  He was intoxicating, you could lose yourself completely in this man, he somehow smelt like cinnamon, whiskey and sweat, a combination you’d never thought would send liquid fire through your central nervous system.  You’d give anything to taste him properly, but this was wrong. So so wrong. This was your brother's partner, this was inviting complication to your door, when you were just here to check on Steve. You were here for Steve.

You were here for Steve... 

“... This isn’t a good idea.” You all but whisper, closing your eyes. Regret pulses through your veins at your self imposed restraint. 

“Never is.” He leaned forward and captured your lips. You didn’t have any fight left in you, exhausted and at wits end you embraced your spiral into stupidity instead and your hands glided across the clammy skin of his neck to grab at his short ink black hair. You wrapped your fingers around it to drag him closer to you, your lips clashed, all teeth at first but you didn’t care as his tongue began to fight against yours for dominance. 

He tasted as good as you imagined, he was the right combination of sweet and bitter, with undertones of whiskey and tobacco on his tongue. Your response to his assault on your mouth told him it was go time, Javier pulled you into his lap and his hands lowered to your ass. Your body was flush with his own as your breasts pressed against his chest, you could feel every solid line of his lithe body against your own. 

You licked at his honied tongue, before withdrawing and pulling his bottom lip into your mouth and sucking on the soft plush skin. His mustache tickled your upper lip, a sensation you weren’t used to but could so easily grow to love.  This made him tighten his grip on your backside in response and he let out a throaty groan at the meat he found there, Javier was definitely an ass man, you felt his bulge pressing against your core as you both began grinding against each other in earnest. You felt like a horny teenager as you grinded on a man you barely knew. 

You felt him grip at the bottom of your tank top and begin to lift it, except he stopped, and began to rub patterns on the stomach he exposed. Javier’s mouth descended from your lips to begin to suck and lick at your throat. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head at his work as pleasure rippled throught your body. His hands slid the length of your body to grab at your chest, which conforming to every stereotype was heaving, he palmed your breast blindly as his face was still buried in your hair, sucking and kissing along to your ear, before he raised his mouth a mere inch and whispered  “Te follaré toda la noche niña.”

He said it with such surety that your body convulsed in on itself without even needing to know what the man above you was saying. You could only hope it was absolutely filthy and profanity ridden, because then at least, the sentiment would be shared. He bit at the lobe of your ear before his hands left your breasts and travelled to the hem of your tank top, getting ready to pull it over your head.

It was strange to say that you remembered your brother was on his way here as a man tried to take your t-shirt off, but that’s just the way it went. You knew if that top came off, dry humping would be the most PG action of the night and if Steve turned up and found you mounted on his partner, he probably wouldn’t be too thrilled. 

You couldn’t stop yourself from stroking the man's hair whose face was planted in between your tits as his hips rose against your own pushing his hardened length up against the seams of your jeans, you gasped as he hit that sweet spot. You let out a noise that sounded like a wail. You wanted nothing more than to lie back and let this man have his filthy way with your body. And you know, from the hour you’ve spent with this man it would be phenomenally filthy. The kind of sex that would ruin all men for you, but no. You had to be a good sister. Like a fuckin loser. 

Sighing, you threw your body sideways before you could change your mind and ended up on your back. Javier followed you, caging you with his frame as he covered your body with his own.  Gripping your face like he was a starving man and you were the only sustenance he’d ever need. It would be so easy to get lost in him, to give in to that magic tongue but you couldn’t let this go any further so you placed a hand on his chest.

Taking your cue he paused his tongues assault on your mouth and stopped, resting his forehead against your own. You were both breathing heavily trying to come back down to reality, his eyes were no longer the chocolate brown you’d been comforted by when you met, but rings of obsidian staring into your soul. You wanted this man, my god you did. But this would make more problems for Steve.

The two of you stayed that way for a while, foreheads and bodies pressed against one another until both of your breathing evened out. The silence dragged, heavy in the air as you two strangers both waited for the other to break it. 

“...Is Steve okay?”

“...No... He’s been fuckin’ mess ever since Connie left.” Javier sighed whilst closing his eyes and breathing deep. You raised your hands from his chest, which was difficult as he was crushing his body to yours and cupped his cheek, you joined your lips once more, much like the first kiss. This was sweet and there wasn’t a carnal appetite behind it but rather an understanding. 

The loud knock on the front door startles you both as you’d been so wrapped up in one another you’d not heard the steps leading to it. The two of you split apart like a pair of guilty teens caught in the act. You both stared at each other for a second before he nods at you and walks to the front door whilst rearranging his bulge discreetly in his jeans, this was something you pretended not to see as you sat back up right on the sofa. You had only a moment to fix yourself, as you pulled your tank top from where it was hooked by your breasts and ran your fingers through your hair so you didn’t look like you’ve just had the ravaging of a lifetime. 

Javier pulled open the door and you clutch your hands into your lap, not quite sure what kind of reception you were about to receive from your brother. You hear the two men greet one another in hushed whispers, you couldn’t make out Steve's voice much until you hear his voice clear as day “...what the hell was so important it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

You stand from your spot on the sofa and quickly realise the button on your jeans is undone; if you’re honest you don’t even know how he managed to do that without you noticing, even though it's not the time you take a solitary second to commend Javier on his artistry of disrobing a woman. Turning quickly you pull the rivet back through the hole and swing around as Steve crosses the threshold from the hallway.  

Steve looks from you, to Javier and then back to you once more in complete surprise. It takes his brain a hot second to process that you’re here in front of him and in Colombia before he rushes you. Clutching you tight and hugging you to his chest. You hear something that sounds suspiciously like a sob leave your brothers chest before he collapses into you. The front door and Javier’s bedroom both in rapid succession, giving you the privacy you knew your brother would need after breaking down like this.

You couldn’t support Steve’s weight with your considerably smaller frame and the two of you fell to the ground as you held your broken brother. His body shook with silent sobs as he buried his face in your shoulder.

You said nothing as you held him and stroked his hair. In that moment you thanked your every instinct that screamed at you to come to Colombia. 

This had definitely not been a mistake. 

Part Two

#javier pena x reader #javier peña x reader #narcos fic #pedro pascal x reader #I LOVE THE BLACK FUCKING SHIRT #narcos fanfiction #javier peña #murphy!reader

[onlydreamofmysoul]

Let Them Eat Cake: The Final

We made it! I want to thank you guys so so much for the fantastic support you've given this story, it means the world to me. Bake Off has a special place in my heart and so does this fic, so its been so great to share it with you all!

(Links to all previous chapters can be found pinned on my page under 'Let Them Eat Cake' or pop over to my AO3 - link in bio)

Without further ado, I give you... The Final!

This week on the final of The Great British Bake Off…

“It looks like you’re having a smashing time.”

“Tell us about your first kiss.”

“And the winner is…”

Remus Lupin was having a nice morning.

There had been nothing of interest to note, however he didn’t have an alarm blaring and he was warm and snuggly, so all in all, he took it as a win.

Until one Lily Evans took it upon herself to sneak into his room and throw herself on him like she was a kid on Christmas morning.

“Finals, finals, finals!” She exclaimed, managing to find a tone that was somehow both singing and chanting all at once.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Remus groaned, covering his eyes with his forearms. “Can I go back in time and just never apply to this fucking competition?”

Lily rolled off him, her big green eyes staring at him concerned. “What's the matter? Do you not want to be here?”

Remus peeked out at her. “No, I don’t want you to be here.” He smirked as she rolled her eyes, flopping back on the pillows next to him.

“Asshat.” She grumbled, hitting his shoulder with a light ‘thwack’. “I was worried for a sec.”

Remus grinned at her and then stared up at the ceiling for a long moment, only the sounds of their breathing and his heartbeat in his ears to keep him company.

Finals, they had made it to the finals.

He still couldn’t quite believe it. “Welcome to the finals.” McGonagall had said to him just before he left the tent, the words playing over and over again in his head, as clear as if she had said them yesterday.

(Which in fact, she had. This was the first time Remus would go to the practice tent and Tonks wouldn’t be there, but there was still an undeniable elation blossoming in his chest).

Five days until filming resumed. Six until the winner was announced. It didn’t seem real.

(But if this were a fantasy, Remus never wanted to return to reality).

“So where’s Sirius on this fine morning?” Lily asked, breaking the silence. Remus turned his head to look at her, completely relaxed and sinking into the bed. It would seem his lazy morning mood had seeped into her instead of her vibrant energy going to him.

“We’re not together every night.” He said, looking at the freckles splashed across her nose. They were darker now than they had been when they arrived. “We’re taking things slow.”

Lily just stared at him sceptically.

“It’s true!” He defenced. “We are!”

“You’re such a bad liar.”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

Remus groaned and smacked her with a pillow. Victory.

“You never answered the question.” Lily said, muffled under the cushion. Or maybe victory had another champion in mind.

“Okay yes, he’s here most nights, but it doesn’t feel fast.” He defended, and it was true. Somehow it felt almost like they had known each other forever and yet still there was the thrill and excitement that came with everything being so new.

“It doesn’t seem fast either.” Lily reassured. “Maybe for others it would be, but I think it’s right for you two.”

Remus let out a little breath of relief. He hadn’t been worried exactly, but his thoughts had slipped in that direction a few times. More than anything, he just worried about scaring Sirius off, while still feeling secure in himself? Remus really didn’t know, the emotion centre of his body was really sending out mixed signals these days.

He had just decided to say fuck it to logic and stick to how he felt. And he felt good. Really good.

“Not that this little revelation wasn’t nice,” Lily said, “But you still haven’t answered the question I asked. Little tip? If this baking thing doesn’t work out, definitely don’t become a spy. If you were captured you’d accidentally reveal all the information without them even having to ask you.”

Remus groaned. “I hate you. He and James were hanging out last night.”

Lily grinned, satisfied and gave Remus another little shove. “Okay, come on I wanna go bake.”

“You’d think you’d have enough baking for a lifetime.” Remus grumbled but he got up all the same. In actuality, now that he was awake, Remus too was buzzing to get into the tent and get to work. “What’re you planning for this week?” He asked as he threw on a pair of jeans and a hoodie, having taken a shower the night before.

“I can’t give away my secrets!” Lily teased, holding open the door as Remus grabbed his key and they both swept out of the room and down the plush carpeted corridor.

“You are aware I’m gonna find out either way right? Cause if you still haven’t grasped that concept then I’m a little worried to be-”

“Oh hush,” Lily laughed, pressing her palm to Remus’ mouth. “I’m still not a hundred percent sure to be honest.”

They stepped outside, the cool crisp air falling over them, revitalizing them. Remus tucked his hands into his pockets and felt his shoulders hunch a little. His lungs liked the cold, the rest of his body - not so much.

“I’m not sure if I know what I’m doing either.” He admitted. “I have a few ideas, but none of them feel quite right, you know?”

Lily nodded as they reached the practice tent, pulling open the door. “Yeah I think that’s my issue too. There’s suddenly so much pressure and nothing I consider seems to be good enough.”

Remus sighed as he pulled two aprons off the hooks and tossed one to Lily. “I suppose we’ll have to figure it out.” He said, before taking out the recipe cards he had brought with him and began flicking through them for inspiration.

Five days. He could do this.

“Well, well, well, look who we have here.” Remus said with a grin as he trod through the grass, rounding the big oak tree to see Sirius waiting on their swing.

“I know,” Sirius drawled. “It’s almost like we planned it.”

Remus smiled, sitting by his side, holding the rope in one hand as he held out a Tupperware encased offering. “Want some cake?”

Sirius took the box gladly, his hair tied up but the wind had claimed a few loose strands, whipping them around his face like a dark halo. “Always. What kind?”

Remus tucked one foot into his chest, resting his cheek on his knee as he studied the other man. “Try it and find out.”

Sirius' lips quirked at Remus’ teasing tone, looking at the deep brown colour that really could only be one flavour. “Elderflower?” He joked.

Remus laughed and took a bite himself before holding out to Sirius. “Yes,” He said, completely deadpan. “That’s exactly what it is.”

Sirius smiled and kissed him, biting his lip as he pulled away. “You taste like chocolate.”

Remus flushed. “Don’t you mean elderflower?”

Sirius chuckled, rocking the swing a little more, tilting his head back to look at the twisting branches above them. “Look,” He murmured, pointing to a clump of twigs high in the tree. “A bird's nest.” Remus followed his line of sight and watched as a bird swooped overhead and landed in it gracefully.

“That was kinda cool.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t shit on us.”

“Sirius!” Remus exclaimed, elbowing the other man as he laughed. “Let’s hope your hair can take the hit and shield us.”

“Oi! My hair is what should be protected at all costs, it’s a national treasure. You know, I think I should replace you with Tonks, she knows the importance of hair care.”

Remus smiled, resting his head on Sirius’ shoulder, the fabric of his jacket soft against his cheek. “Tell me something I don't know about you.”

The wind whipped through the branches, but Remus wasn’t cold pressed up against Sirius. The tree sheltered them from the worst of it and the weather was slowly getting a little warmer, daffodils springing up all around the tent. There were many things Remus had always wanted but never saw himself actually achieving. Coming to bake off was one. Making it to the final was another. And perhaps the most notable - finding someone who might love him as much as he loved them. And yet, here he was with all three.

“When I was a kid, I used to want to be a dog so bad, I was always getting in trouble for wearing holes in my pants because I would crawl instead of walking normally. I even refused to answer to ‘Sirius’.”

“Oh yeah?” Remus asked, amused. “What was your alter ego’s name then?”

He could hear Sirius’ smile even if he couldn’t see it. “Padfoot. He was this big black dog. I got the idea after I read about ‘The Grimm’ in one of my cousin’s books and I guess it kind of stuck.”

“Padfoot,” Remus repeated, unable to stop himself. “I like that.”

“Your turn,” Sirius urged, nudging Remus lightly. “Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

Remus’ heart fluttered, stomach rolling a little, he had news for Sirius, and had honestly engineered the entire conversation just to tell him, but now that the moment was here, he was getting nervous.

“I’ve been offered a job in London.”

Sirius froze under Remus’ cheek. “In London?”

“Yeah.”

“London, England?”

Remus chuckled as he sat up to look at Sirius’ stunned face, grey eyes wide, lips parted. “Yes, London, England.”

Sirius blinked. “But I live in London.”

Remus pursed his lips, trying not to smile too much. “I’m aware of this, yes.”

“You… we… we’d be living in the same country. In the same city.”

“That’s what I’m saying.”

“Remus motherfucking Lupin, that's the best thing I’ve heard all week.”

“Your flour is about to tip over.” Tonks commented, carelessly filing her nails over facetime as Remus ran around his station, trying to do several things at once.

“Oh my god Lupin, you’re a disaster, how did you even get into this competition?” Tonks teased as Remus caught the flour but promptly dropped it on the flour, a white cloud erupting, coating everything in a two meter radius in powder.

“Not very helpful.” Remus grumbled as he shook flour out of his hair and grabbed a cloth to wipe down the counter.

“I wasn’t trying to be helpful.” Tonks paused and looked at the recipe Remus had sent her. “You’re gonna need at least double the vanilla extract than what you have there.” Remus grabbed the recipe and looked it over, seeing she was right. “See?” Tonks said gleefully as Remus scratched out the original amount. “That was me being helpful.”

Remus rolled his eyes, but blew her a kiss, wiping the dusty screen of his phone which had not escaped the great flour disaster.

“Come on,” He said as he walked with his phone to the store room, as if Tonks had any other choice than to accompany him. “We’re gonna get some more flour.” He set his phone down on a shelf as he looked for the right flour, Tonks chatting away. If Remus closed his eyes he could almost pretend she was right there with him, the pair of them practising for whatever challenges they were soon to face.

“So where’s Lily on this fine evening?” Tonks questioned. “Don’t you two usually practice together around now?”

“Yeah,” Remus grunted as he picked up his phone, tucking it under his chin with his hands full. “But she was busy tonight.”

“No fucking way, she’s with James?”

“Well, I don’t know for sure.” Remus admitted, “But she sounded pretty suspicious.”

“Ooh.” Tonks gasped and Remus began carefully measuring flour and continuing where he left off. “All the Bake Off love this year.”

Remus laughed as he folded in his sugar, putting the batter in the oven before beginning to prepare the icing. “Oh hush you.”

Tonks just winked, sticking out her tongue. “You know you love me.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased as punch to welcome you to this year's Great British Bake off; the final!”

Sirius groaned, head tipping back at James’ enthusiastic introduction. “You did not just say ‘pleased as punch’.”

James feigned being hurt, placing a hand over his heart. “What would you prefer? Pleased as pudding? Pleased as pie?”

Sirius looked straight into the camera, his face blank but his amused eyes giving him away. “Someone please give me a new co-host, I can’t take this anymore.”

James laughed as he threw an arm over Sirius’ shoulder, the two of them easing the nerves of everyone in the tent tenfold. “Don’t worry Sirius darling, you haven’t got too long left with me because, like I said, we’ve reached the final!”

Remus smiled, hiding the hands he was wringing together under the table. It was the weirdest feeling - he was at once completely calm and so incredibly nervous. He couldn’t help but giggle at the antics of the infamous marauders and recalled that morning, lying in bed when Sirius had queried how much bullshit he’d be able to spout without any prior preparation. Remus had told him to go get ready but had promptly led them to activities that were in no way helpful to the rest of the day's events.

(It had been a good way to start the day though).

McGonagall and Dumbledore stood at the front of the tent, looking out at the eerily empty work stations, only three now filled. Remus and Lily were in the front two and Kingsley had come up to slot in behind Lily.

“We have a very exciting two days lined up,” Sirius said as he clasped his hands together, a natural in front of the cameras. Our bakers have no overall theme, so we’re going to get to see a little splash of everything!”

“For our signature challenge, our bakers have been asked to bake something that fits in with the theme of ‘final’’.” James said, taking his turn to speak again. “It can be anything from a cake inspired by the final book in a series or the last thing you had to eat, because tonight, there are no limits other than your imagination.”

Remus snorted and Sirius’ eyes found his as he elbowed James lightly. “Dramatic much.” He drawled before rubbing his hands together gleefully. “Are you ready?”

“On your marks,”

“Get set.”

“Bake!”

Remus hadn’t realised how much he would miss Tonks in the tent. He had missed her all week, but it wasn’t as if they ever had much chance to chat while they were filming, so he had thought it would be a little easier. But the tent was unusually quiet without her clattering at her station, inevitably breaking at least one piece of crockery per challenge.

“It’s too quiet,” Lily murmured, echoing Remus’ thoughts. “I almost feel like we’re not allowed to talk.”

Remus chuckled, remembering exams in home economics when he had been in secondary school and the teacher who would happily dole out zero marks if she so much as saw your lips move.

He grinned, taking a bowl he didn’t need from his station and ‘accidentally’ dropping it on the ground, the ceramic splitting with a loud crack.

“Oops!” He said loudly, glad he hadn’t ever tried to go into the theatre business, he was truly a terrible actor, and ran to grab a broom, not without winking at Lily who blew him a kiss.

“Much better, thanks!” She yelled after him and he just chuckled, disposing of the broken bowl, but not without slipping a shard into his apron pockets to take home with him as a little reminder.

Sirius meandered over after a little while as Remus put a tin in the oven to cook the soon-to-be sponge fingers for his tiramisu.

“You seem to be having a smashing time.” Sirius teased, his eyes alight.

“James already made that joke a few weeks ago.” Remus said laughing as he poured double cream into a bowl. “It’s really not that funny.”

Sirius just stuck out his tongue and moved to the next station, but Remus knew that had it been just the two of them, it was far more likely that Sirius would have taken much offence to the attack on his sense of humour, and a good snog would have been needed to make up for it.

James arrived no sooner than Sirius had left, peering into the bowl of ingredients that Remus was whipping, looking very much like he was contemplating dipping his finger in for a taste.

Marlene arrived, camera on her shoulder, surveying Remus’ station, sceptically watching Remus grate his dark chocolate.

“So Remus,” She began, fiddling with the lens to zoom in on his hands. “What has tiramisu got to do with the ‘final’ theme?”

“Well,” He said, suddenly feeling shy, wishing he didn’t have to explain. “Tonks, Andromeda Tonks, that is, had been planning to make a tiramisu for this episode, but she unfortunately was eliminated last week, so instead I’m making it.”

Some of the crew members cooed softly and Remus rolled his eyes, even as he blushed. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m a big softie.” He glanced at Marlene once, smirking, then returned to his work, “Now fuck off and let me get on with it.”

“One of these days, Remus motherfucking Lupin,” Marlene grumbled as she walked away, not before snagging a square of chocolate to munch on, “One of these days I’m going to get you back.”

Remus’ dish was made pretty quickly, the most important part was leaving it in the fridge for as long as possible, so as soon as he had carefully layered the sponge and cream and chocolate of course, he set the fridge to the lowest temperature and put the big dish in. He had an idea of how he wanted to present it, but that all depended on whether or not it would be set properly.

He cleaned his station and set up everything he needed for when the dessert was set, but that only took ten minutes. Watching Lily and Kingsley rush around their stations while Remus had nothing left to do made him feel like he was back in school, the horrid panic of completing a test, thinking it was easy, then looking up to discover everyone else was still working intently. He put himself to work to avoid the fluttering in his chest, different to the loved up buzz he had been experiencing recently, no this tightness was more akin to the ‘oh no have I had ten shots of espresso’ variety. Remus wasn’t the biggest fan.

He made tea for the crew, including the judges and presenters, checked the progress of his dish, then made himself walk away from the fridge, lest he open it too often and slow down the cooling process. He chatted with Lily a bit while she worked and did an interview with James and Sirius, some more filler content now that there weren’t nearly as many bakers to keep up with, but the airing time of the show hadn’t changed.

“Need a hand?” He offered, turning to Lily who was crouched by her oven, gazing intently at her cake. “Nah I’m good.” She said, not looking up, “I don’t have anything to do until this little guy is cooked.”

“They never tell you how much waiting around there is.” Remus groaned, hopping up on his worktop. “I have been just sitting here for the best part of over an hour and I bet none of this is going to make the final cut.”

“You’d be right there!” Marlene chimed in, passing them on her way to video whatever complicated technique Kingsley was currently demonstrating. Remus raised an eyebrow at Lily, sighed and jumped off the counter. “I’m gonna check on my cakes now, thank you very much.”

Remus both loved and hated how there was no official ranking for the first challenge. He definitely loved it on days where he hadn’t done very well and didn’t want his failings it be broadcasted even more than they already had been, but today, with only three contestants left and the competition tangible, he wanted to know how much more impressive his next two bakes were going to have to be.

He supposed it didn’t really matter - he was going to do his very best no matter what.

Lily had made a cake shaped like a knitted hat, the piping terrifyingly realistic, in commemoration of the last hat her grandmother had made before she passed away. Kingsley had a coffee flavoured graduation cap to honour his girlfriend who was in her final year of college.

“We’re a bunch of sentimental saps.” Lily muttered to them both as they all walked out of the tent to go for lunch, the judges' praises ringing in their ears. They all seemed to be standing on equal footing for now.

“I know,” Remus groaned, throwing himself down on the grass under the sun. “I should have just done like, the final countdown or something.”

“Tonks is never gonna let you live this down.” Kinsley piped in.

“God, don’t remind me. I might just have to kill her before the episode airs, you know, save my reputation and all.”

“Oh, a spot of murder, how lovely.” James chirped as he and Sirius arrived, having been sent to retrieve all of their lunches, the three bakers claiming that they were too tired and as they always fed everyone else, it was time to switch it up.

James passed out sandwiches, pulling them from a bag, while Sirius handed Remus a salad.

Remus kissed Sirius on the cheek, “Thanks sweetheart.”

It took Remus a moment to realise what he had done, a moment more to remember that it was only Kingsley who hadn’t already known about their relationship. Kingsley who was looking very nonchalant and in no way surprised.

“Oh,” He said between bites, looking at Remus and Sirius’ panicked looks. “Was this meant to be a secret?”

Remus just burst out laughing, any tension that had appeared, vanishing in seconds. “I suppose we’re not very good at hiding it, huh?”

“Oi, speak for yourself.” Sirius jostled as he unwrapped his sandwich. “I’m an excellent secret keeper.”

“Alright everybody, welcome to the technical challenge of this year’s final!” James reintroduced them, everyone having returned to their stations, fresh aprons tied around their waist and judges standing at the top of the room watching over the proceedings.

“For our last technical challenge, the judges are asking you to make a classic sponge cake, but with a little twist.”

Remus eyed the mysterious pile of ingredients under the cloth on his table. He both loved and hated that blue and white gingham pattern, hated it because he wasn’t the biggest lover of surprises, and loved it because… well, because it was cute.

(Not every answer was super deep. The Pinterest boy in him was in love with the entire aesthetic of The Great British Bake Off).

“Our lovely judges have also requested that you make at least twelve meringue kisses to top your sponge cake.”

Remus raised his eyebrows in surprise - it wasn’t like the judges to add anything to something as classic as a sponge cake, but who was he to question? This was the final, anything was possible.

James and Sirius chattered on for a few more minutes, and then they were off, the three contestants whipping off their gingham cloths like a magician unveiling his assistant. Remus barely glanced at the vague recipe before setting off to make the meringues first. Their small size was deceptive and that’s why Remus thought the judges had included them - but they would take the most time to bake and cool.

He set about whipping egg whites and sugar as Marlene arrived by his side, taking a moment just to pan the camera over everything he was doing.

“Meringue kisses,” Marlene said, with a smug sounding tone. “Such a cute name. Go on Remus, tell us about your first kiss.”

Remus laughed, caught off guard, nearly spilling the extra sugar he was adding to the bowl. “Alright, which first kiss do you want to hear about? Cause technically I have a few.”

Marlene giggled with him and Remus felt like he was a schoolgirl, chatting about boys and kisses, like they were the beginning and end of everything. “The very first one.”

Remus could help but laugh again, shaking his head fondly at the memory. “It was awful.” he said, chuckling to himself. “I was thirteen and I kissed this girl called Mary on a dare.” He paused to look at the camera more directly. “Mary if you’re watching this, I’d apologise but we both know I’m right. That was a shit kiss.”

Remus grinned as he realised Marlene was going to let that explicative slide for the purpose of the story. Victorious at last.

“What about your other ‘first’ kisses.” Marlene prompted, overall looking thoroughly delighted by the stories. Remus paused for a moment to stop his mixer and run a spatula around the edge of the bowl to ensure everything was mixing well, before turning the mixer back on and stepping back.

“Well my first kiss with a boy was a year later and since my previous make-out experience consisted of the one kiss you already know about, I think it’s fair to say; that was pretty crap too.” He grinned at Marlene and started measuring the butter for his cake. “But it did solve the whole ‘sexuality crisis’ thing I had going on, so that was fun.”

He deemed his meringue mix whipped-enough so he carefully spooned batches into an icing bag and began piping tiny amounts onto a baking sheet.

“Then I suppose, there’s your first kiss with someone who really matters,” He said carefully, not looking up from his work. “With the person who’s so amazing that every kiss feels a little bit like the first one. Kinda makes you feel like every other kiss you’ve ever had was just practice for this exact moment.”

Remus was aware that his cheeks were a little pink, but then again, when were they not?

“And you’ve found that person?” Marlene asked softly, as Remus piped his last little swirl. He didn’t have to think about it, but he did suppose he should tell the person in question before quite literally broadcasting it to the nation. So instead he just winked.

“Sirius,” Remus said softly, later that night as they lay in bed, a movie playing in the background, Remus’ adrenaline still high from winning the technical challenge. “I know it’s early, so I'm not expecting anything back but since I might have just heavily implied it on national television I figured I should probably tell you that I’m in love with you.”

Sirius’ head didn’t move from Remus’ chest, instead he reached out and grabbed Remus’ free hand, pressing his knuckles to his soft lips. “I know.”

“You do?” Remus asked incredulously, trying (and failing) not to splutter.

Sirius chuckled, his voice deep. “Yeah, you said it in your sleep last night. Plus, I watched over the footage from today and I saw.”

Remus blushed. “Oh.”

Sirius twisted in his arms so Remus could finally see his eyes. They were sparkling and a playful smile twisted on Sirius’ lips.

“I love you too, you know.” Sirius said casually, as if commenting on the weather. Remus let his head drop back onto the pillow as a whoosh of relief escaped his mouth. Sure he hadn't expected to have Sirius say it back but this feeling was like nothing he had ever experienced before.

“Well no, I didn’t, actually.” Remus quipped, much to the ceiling’s amusement. “But it’s good to know.”

Suddenly Sirius was leaning over him, his hair falling around their faces like a dark curtain. “So are you gonna kiss me or what?”

Remus bit his lip, failing in his attempt not to smile. “Nah,” He said, a blatant lie as he raised himself onto his elbows and pressed their lips together. Sirius twisted so he could support himself on one arm, cupping Remus’ face with the other. “I loved what you said earlier,” He murmured against Remus’ lips. “About the first kiss thing. And I really, really love you.”

Remus just grinned against Sirius’ lips and pulled him closer. “Love you too. Now shut up and kiss me.”

“What’re you looking all smug about?” Lily teased, bumping their hips together as they strolled down to the tent. Remus had so many reasons for the butterflies in his chest, he could hardly stop his hands from shaking, but the smile hadn’t left his face since he woke up.

“Oh you know,” He said, waving his hand in feigned nonchalance. “I’m just a boy in love.”

“Fuck off, you said ‘I love you’?” Lily asked, her voice going up an octave.

“Mhm,” Remus confirmed, nodding. “So now you need to woman-up and kiss James fucking Potter like we both know you’ve wanted to do since the first day.” Lily looked as if she might protest, but Remus cut her off. “We both know I’m right. Plus, it’s fairly obvious that the feeling’s mutual, so for the love of all things holy, put the rest of us out of our misery and just snog the poor bugger.”

Lily laughed, even as she blushed and tried to shrug Remus off. “You know,” She started, shooting him a glare that was in no way intimidating. “I’m really not sure I like ‘in love Remus’.”

Remus just winked and kissed the top of her head, smirking wickedly. “I think we both know that’s a lie.”

“It’s here, the final.”

“We’ve already completed half of the final James.”

“Yeah but this is like… the final part of the final.”

“Someone please tell me why I’m friends with this bloke.”

“Oi!”

“Anyways!” Sirius interrupted. “I suppose James wasn’t fully wrong. We made it to the final stretch.”

“It’s time,” James took over, “For my personal favourite challenge. The showstopper.”

Sirius clasped his hands together in front of himself and Remus had to stop himself from staring at the movement. “For our final showstopper, our judges would like to see you recreate a memory.”

“It could be anything,” James continued, “From a chocolate Easter egg to a fondue waterfall, but it has to be your own memory and most importantly, it has to be edible.”

“Otherwise; we’d be the Great British Fake Off.” Sirius quipped and everyone in the tent collectively groaned, which only seemed to spur Sirius on even more.

“If our bakers are ready, I think we’ll begin. Ready Prongs?”

“Ready Pads.”

“On your marks,”

“Get set,”

“Bake!”

And maybe for the first time starting a challenge, Remus’ hands didn’t shake.

“Wotcha-makin?” Sirius asked, leaning around one side of Remus as James curved around the other.

“Cake.” Remus replied, not looking at either of them as he carefully evened out the batter in his tin before popping it in the oven. He then turned to face the two presenters, giving them exactly thirty seconds of his time for a round of rapid fire questions before he had to rush straight back into his work.

“What are you making?”

“A swing in a tree.”

“What kind of cake are you working with?”

“Mostly chocolate, but I have a few other elements working in.”

“What’s the memory you chose?”

Remus smiled softly. “One of my first real kisses.”

Sirius and James thanked him and left again, allowing him to get back to work. Remus had already filled Sirius in on all the details of his cake, he had even checked that it would be okay to use that idea in the first place. Sirius had just kissed him in response, enthusiastically and at length. The bakers had given all their details to the presenters and the camera crew before, so they could insert a voice-over effect to inform the audience of what was happening as the contestants were even more busy and focused than usual and weren’t giving too many interviews.

Remus had chosen several circular cake pans, in a range of different sizes and was going to stack all the cakes they produced on top of one another to create the tree trunk. The top of the tree was going to be made of a mix of white chocolate melted over Rice Krispies (with a little dash of green food dye thrown in) and moulded to look like the leafy crown of a tree in the summer. The swing would be the hardest to add, made of carefully moulded chocolate, Remus would have to be careful not to make the seat too heavy so that the ‘ropes’ and the actual tree itself would support its weight.

After taking all of his cakes out of the oven and setting them out to cool, and creating the swing set, Remus made the chocolate buttercream icing that would decorate the tree trunk. He carefully layered his cakes, using a knife to cut off the rough edges and make the cake slope gently upwards before slathering on thick layers of icing. Taking out a small, delicate knife, Remus carefully cut lines and patterns into the icing, aiming for it to look like the bark of a tree. Finally satisfied, he began melting the white chocolate to make the tree top.

“Looking good Re!” Lily enthused from behind her, forearms splattered in icing as she decorated her own cake, a letter with a bright red seal. Kingsley was working away too, apparently recreating the cover of the CD he bought the day his daughter was born.

“Celine Dion,” He had told Remus yesterday, chuckling. “I had never listened to her before, I don’t even know why I bought it, I just left the hospital with a need to celebrate and the music shop was the first place I came across. But what do you know? It turns out that my little girl loves it.”

Remus grinned at the memory, sweet even to him and admired Lily’s cake out loud. “It’s the acceptance letter to my college,” She was explaining to the camera. “I got a full scholarship, so it’s pretty special.”

Remus turned his attention to his now-melted chocolate and added the green carefully, not wanting to make it too light or two dark. He had found that five drops got him the colour he was looking for - the pale chocolate requiring that little extra for the colour to darken. He then added the cereal and stirred it in together, folding it in with his spatula.

He gave his hands a thorough wash again as he waited for the mixture to cool just enough that he could mould it, but not so much that it set, and got back to work, spooning the green mix on top of his tree trunk until there was enough for him to start shaping it. He attached the chocolate swing very carefully as soon as he was satisfied and brought it straight to the fridge to set.

And then he was done.

He looked around the tent, thinking surely this couldn’t be it, he must have something more to do, but no, there was nothing left. His cake was made and decorated and now only time could tell what would happen next.

Feeling a tad useless, Remus set about cleaning his station and clicked the kettle, fulfilling his tradition in providing the crew with tea. He had just made his own one when James announced the official ten minute warning. They were nearly done.

Suddenly Remus’ heart was in his chest. He had been impeccably calm until this moment, a fact that had surprised him but he hadn’t questioned as it was much easier to bake when your hands weren’t shaking and your heart wasn’t thundering. But all the adrenaline rushed into him now as he realised that one way or another, he was finished with the Great British Bake Off.

At the ‘two minutes’ call, Remus took his cake out of the fridge and gave it a final look over. He tweaked the carving in the tree trunk and double checked that the swing would hold its place and then Sirius asked everyone to step away from their creations.

Dumbledore and McGonagall re-entered the room. Remus’ pulse matched every step they took.

“Kingsley,” They called, and the man in question carefully walked his cake to the table at the top of the tent. Remus watched as the judges 'oohed' and 'awed', admiring the level of detail, right down to the serial number Kingsley had apparently memorised.

Lily went next, her piping skills on display, demonstrating her lovely cursive handwriting that read her own name and an edited home address, signed and sealed by the headmaster. In their practice bakes, Remus had seen many versions of the cake on display but he had no doubt that this was her best work yet.

Finally it was Remus’ turn, and he walked up to the front carefully, trying to keep his breathing even. He had a mental image of himself falling and his cake going everywhere but he batted it out of his mind. His cake was the tallest by far and god, he could only hope, the best.

Sirius caught his eye as they cut the cake and winked. To anyone else, it would look like a presenter trying to calm the nerves of a contestant, but Remus heard the words that had been whispered to him that morning as the sun rose.

“You’re gonna win this.”

Remus had blushed and batted him away, but Sirius had looked at him earnestly. “No, Re, seriously. They base these things on who does best that week. And you’ve already won the technical. If you go and blow them away today, just like you always do, you’ve got this in the bag.”

Remus blushed and hit his face in a pillow but he linked their legs together.

“Besides,” Sirius teased, rolling on his back and tucking his arms under his head. Cocky. “You’ve already won the best prize.”

Remus had playfully kicked his ankle and Sirius’ resounding laugh still echoed in his ears.

“Ah, Mr Lupin,” Dumbledore began casually as he picked up a knife, perhaps unaware that he held Remus’ future in his hands. “This is rather impressive.”

Remus swallowed as the slices were cut and set onto plates. “Thank you.”

“You have no adventurous flavours for us I see,” McGonagall observed as she picked up her fork.

“No,” Remus confirmed. “Chocolate is my speciality, and well, I wanted to keep it simple.”

That seemed to be all the commentary they wanted as they both nodded with a small smile and took a bite.

“Excellent Mr Lupin.” McGonagall said. And that was it. They were done. The judges thanked them all and retreated to the back room to do whatever it is the judges do and make some decisions. The cast broke into a round of applause and Remus tugged Lily under his arm, Kingsley joining the little hug soon after.

“Can you believe that’s it?” Lily asked them and the two boys just shook their heads.

“No more non-stop baking.” Kingsley sighed. “I don’t know if I’m sad or relieved.”

“Both.” Remus laughed. “Definitely both.”

“Okay you lot,” James interrupted. “We have a little something for you outside.”

They all grinned. As loyal bake-off fans, they all knew what was coming. They walked outside the tent to picnic tables set up and laden with the cakes they made that day, along with all the eliminated contestants of that year and the families of the finalists.

Remus beamed at Tonks before sweeping his mother up into a hug.

“I’m so proud of you!” Hope said to him as she gripped him close. Remus chuckled as he bent to half his size, squeezing her just as tight. “Thanks Mam.”

“Now introduce me to this man of yours.” Hope teased, speaking low even though the microphones were elsewhere and they were surrounded by noise. Remus flushed, but he beckoned Sirius over with a tilt of his chin, so subtle no camera could have caught it. Remus had told his mom about everything and she had been begging for more information, only just stopping short of looking up celebrity gossip, although she did send Remus one or two pictures of Sirius on red carpets with the caption ‘your children would be beautiful’.

Sirius looked more nervous than Remus had ever seen him, holding his hand out to be shaken, but Hope just pulled him into a hug.

“It’s lovely to meet you Mrs Lupin,” Sirius said, looking a little surprised as Hope cupped his face in her hands and gave him a proper look. Remus hid his laugh in his elbow as Hope patted Sirius’ cheek fondly. “You’ve got good taste.” She said to him, tilting her head towards Remus, who blushed.

“The best.” Sirius agreed.

“Remus!” Tonks yelled, tired of being ignored and pulled Remus’ attention elsewhere. “Your cake was brilliant!”

Remus laughed running his fingers through his hair, the pink staining his cheeks permanent it would seem. “Thanks Tonks.”

The bright haired woman just grinned and wrapped an arm around Remus before cheerfully introducing herself to Hope. Sirius excused himself as he had to go with James to chat with the judges and Lily joined them with her parents, Kingsley standing with his family and talking to Fabian about knitting of all things. They sat in the garden, the sun shining bright, a few fluffy white clouds lazing their way across the sky. They chatted about everything and nothing as they munched on an endless amount of cake, Remus just sipping on tea as he hadn’t had the foresight to make anything gluten free. He was distracted, Lily and Kingsley were too and everyone around them knew it, not minding when they drifted in and out of the conversation. As nervous as he was, Remus knew this moment right here was his favourite, living his literal dream, surrounded by friends and family. That even gave him a sense of calm.

Until the presenters and judges emerged from the tent, all wearing welcoming smiles that revealed nothing. They stopped at the table draped in a pristine white cloth and topped with three beautiful flower bouquets and an engraved glass cake stand. There was no big cash prize in the bake-off, and Remus loved that. It made it all the more endearing to him, and it only allowed for the most passionate bakers to enter, the ones who baked for the love of it, not for money.

For once, James and Sirius were quiet, not needing to grab anyone's attention as the focus was already entirely on them. The three remaining bakers lined up before them as they had previously been instructed by the crew, and then the judges began speaking.

“This year, we had the most wonderful collection of bakers,” Dumbledore started, having to pause already as the applause had already commenced. “And our finalists even more so. I do believe this was the most difficult final we’ve had to judge in a long time, isn’t it Minerva?”

“It was,” McGonagall agreed, nodding. “We had a truly fine selection and the most beautiful array of cakes today. But in the end, there can only be one winner.”

Remus was certain everyone in attendance could hear his heartbeat. Lily’s hand was clammy in his own.

“It is with the greatest pleasure that I can announce that this year’s winner of The Great British Bake Off is…”

James and Sirius picked up a bouquet of flowers each, as did Dumbledore, McGonagall presenting the cake stand. Lily squeezed his hand, and Kingsley’s on the other side too he was sure.

“Remus Lupin.”

Remus blinked even as Lily threw herself on him in a bone-crushing hug, the judges approaching him to present him with his prize. Distantly he saw Sirius and James handing flowers to Kingsley and Lily, but he was in a daze. Dumbledore kissed him on the cheeks and McGonagall shook his hand with a knowing wink and suddenly Remus’ arms were heavy with flowers and expertly crafted glass.

Kingsley shook his hand, patting his shoulder in congratulations and James pulled him into a little side hug. Remus beamed at them, the crowd still cheering and clapping behind him as he reached forward and grabbed Sirius’ shirt, pulling him in for a kiss.

The crowd roared behind them and suddenly Remus realised where he was and what he was doing as he pulled away. “Shit, I’m sorry.” He said frantically. “I wasn’t thinking, I fucking shit- Christ- sorry!”

Sirius laughed and wrapped an arm around Remus’ waist. “I’m not. I love you, and I don’t care who knows. Now shut that filthy mouth of yours and kiss me, you absolute wanker.”

So Remus did.

The newspapers the next day had many headlines, but Remus’ personal favourite? ‘BRITISH BAKE OFF - STAR AND BAKER!’

THREE MONTHS LATER

The bakery was loud and busy and completely hectic and Remus loved every single second working there. Not a day went by that he wasn’t teased about his bake-off status and he was working on his degree here in London. Basically his life was everything he ever could have dreamed it would be.

“Remus, there’s someone here for you!” His co-worker, Katie, called from the front of the shop and Remus grinned, not even bothering to take off his apron as he wiped his hands against the fabric, opening the door with his shoulder, thanking Katie for the message even as his eyes scanned the shop floor.

Sirius.

Standing there in his leather jacket, his hands tucked into the pockets, motorcycle resting outside the door. “Hey,” He greeted, with a lazy smile. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” Remus nodded before freezing. “Wait no, I have to ice a few more pastries, they’re our best-seller.”

Sirius rolled his eyes laughing. “Oh,” He said, waving it off. “Let them eat cake.”

FIN.

#let them eat cake #LTEC #let them eat cake the final #wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black #wolfstar bake off au #tgbbo #the great british bake off #lily evens #james potter #let them eat cake onlydreamofmysoul

[wolf-queer-discourse]

Adventures in Aphobia #3

My last two Adventures in Aphobia both took on similar flavors of eye-rolling at shameless, obvious bigotry to anyone willing to look or care. But today, I found a different type of aphobia, and I’m actually eager to talk about this one. Have a read of this first.

Look, the bar of respect for ace people is so low it’s all the way in hell, but I mean, to many people, especially allosexual people, they may look at this post and think, “No, this isn’t aphobia. The poster wasn’t blatantly cruel.” But what some fail to realize is that politeness can be the thinnest of veils over the ugliest of takes. Polite bigotry gaslights the victims into thinking they can’t be upset about this.

So what’s the deal with this post?

PARAGRAPH #1 starts off innocently enough, saying ace discourse wouldn’t exist if people recognized complex relationships to sex and relationships. Even taken on its own, I do not agree with this. Ace discourse ranges all the way from outright denial of asexual existence to the strong hatred for and exclusion of aces from the queer community. Nearly everyone recognizes people have complex relationships to sex...that...that doesn’t mean ace people won’t be discriminated against. In fact, it’s an argument aphobes use constantly to try and gaslight ace people into erasing themselves. Ace discourse comes from a lot of places, but at the end of the day, it all stems from people’s refusal to acknowledge ace people and their unique experiences. This poster absolutely does not get to say “IT’s CoMpLicAteD”, and expect ace people to just disappear. Honestly, it’d be better and more honest if they said “Lol, ace people should go fuck themselves and hop to the back of the line with everyone else.”

PARAGRAPH #2 and #3 are not very objectionable on their own. Everything said is true. Society has very complicated views on sex, and life happens to all people. The ugly part of this is that the poster is setting up an argument here in which they will hand wave ace people into the “everyone else” crowd and pretend as if we’re all just too similar and no labels should even exist.

This is literally what enby-phobes do. They say “Well, gender is COMPLICATED”, which is true, but then they say “So like...aren’t we all really nonbinary when we think about it? Why should enby people label themselves?” I swear we’ve all seen this. The poster is agender. This argument could easily be whipped in their face. Different forms of bigotry can share very clear overlaps, and it’s very important to acknowledge where these arguments come from and why they exist. It exists as a way to shut people up. It happens to bi people too! Every day, people come out as bi and someone tells them “pff, everyone thinks girls are hot. I had a crush on my best friend once, that doesn’t mean I’m not straight! All people are like this!” Let’s call out this erasure where we see it. It’s not the same thing, and if anyone saying stuff like this truly believes what they’re saying, maybe they’re the ones who need to reevaluate their own identity.

PARAGRAPH #4 dips its ugly toes straight into blatant aphobia, having the gall to call ace and aro people “obsessed” with pretending their relationships with sex and romance are wholly unique and different. Nah, fuck right off with that bullshit. The poster even goes on to say ace people have created entire new social classes. Uh...WHAT? Is there some secret ace society with a caste system living in the shadows?? What is this person talking about?? I suppose you can’t be a true bigot unless you have some vague grievance to weakly hand-gesture at that you couldn’t prove given 20 years to do so. For the love of my sanity, just say you hate ace people! It’s okay! (I mean, not actually, but Jesus Christ does it save us all some time). They also say things like “somehow excluded from”. Replace asexual people with nonbinary people and take a joyride through this section, because the arguments are scarily similar. What would it take for this poster to acknowledge ace and aro people have their own experiences? Seriously, what? What holds you back from doing this?

It’s also funny to note the actual lack of substance to this argument. The poster is not giving any specific examples or even bringing up what being ace and aro mean. Yes, there is a pretty noticeable difference between feeling sexual attraction and not feeling sexual attraction. How many “allo” people do you know that say they’ve NEVER experienced this? Come on. The poster reduces asexuality and aromanticism down to allo people’s, in their own words, hyper-specific contexts where they don’t want sex or love. At least the poster admits any circumstance that allo people are comparable to ace people are extremely specific. But for real, are we hinging a whole argument on a few very specific examples of allo people having some similarity to ace people?

“Nothing about your relationship to sex or love makes you more or less LGBT. If you are gay and don’t want to have sex, ever, you are still gay. “

Mini strawman alert for the idea any ace person thinks you’re less gay if you’re also ace. And bonus points for an aphobe who refuses to use the definition of asexuality: not experiencing sexual attraction, and instead goes for “don’t want to have sex”. For the last. Fucking. Time. Not wanting to have sex and being asexual are NOT the same. Don’t make me pour gasoline in my eyes every time I see this.

After this, the poster goes on a tangent, which by the tone, seems to think it's very inspiring, and says no matter how you want to have sex (including only certain days of the week), you’re still straight! It’s so fucking condescending and gross to talk ace people out of their own identity like this.

“EVERY person who is heterosexual is different in how they perform or experience.”

Oh. My. GOD. THEY DIDN’T EVEN SAY STRAIGHT. THEY SAID HETEROSEXUAL. WUGGYUEGYUG. God help me. Can one be both bisexual and heterosexual? No…? Okay. So then. How is one both asexual AND heterosexual? What single brain cell in this poster’s head was responsible for this Chad of a sentence? I—

*deep breath* 

So. It’s interesting how the poster says “perform or experience it”. Asexuality is an identity. It is not a performance, and it is not defined by your actions. A straight person not having sex does not become asexual. And sure...people with the same label can experience their sexuality differently, but...to a point, guys. You can’t experience your sexuality out of the DEFINITION of the label. Heterosexual: Sexual attraction to the opposite gender. Asexual: Sexual attraction to no one. If a “heterosexual” isn’t sexually attracted to anyone, they are by definition, not heterosexual. It takes insane mental gymnastics to make this argument, so A for flexibility, I guess? 

“Gayness, straightness, and bisexuality are not defined by HOW you do or don’t want sex or HOW you do or don’t want to date, it’s just defined by WHO you want to be with.”

The first part of the sentence is correct, but it also defeats this person’s entire argument. Ace people AGREE with this. Being asexual is not the act of not having sex!! It’s not experiencing sexual attraction! You can google this! The second part of the sentence is mostly correct, depending on your interpretation. The issue is in part with the words the poster used: gayness, straightness and bisexuality. These words are not all equivalents. Gay could refer to sexual and or romantic orientation. Thus an ace gay person. Straightness is not actually an equal word to gayness. This is because straight is an exclusive term for a normative sexuality (in society’s eyes) in terms of sexual and romantic attraction. Some ace people DO call themselves straight, though it’s inaccurate. Ace people can be heteroromantic, but because being straight is so exclusive, you need to be both sexually AND romantically attracted to only the opposite gender.

The post basically ends telling ace people they’re all actually straight and were just confused the whole time. Lovely. And an erasure of gay aces too! Believe it or not, gay ace people do not like having their ace identities erased. Who’d have guessed?

Honestly, if anything this post is just kind of sad. A sad reflection of what people believe and how they truly do not see their own bigotry. They believe they’re freeing ace people from an incorrect label. They’re the heroes.

They’ll say “it’s okay, you’re not asexual” as if they've like...lifted a burden off of ace people. Like, “Oh, you think I’m not asexual? Cool, cool. Glad you cleared that up for me!” It’s sad how aphobes think, some very genuinely, that asexuality is just some high school party that went off the rails, and we’re all just coming out of the drunken haze, ready to go home. Ready to all laugh about it later, tease one another about how wild and silly it all was. 

Having your identity erased like this is fucking horrible, and I hope people like this can take a look in the mirror and see themselves clearly. All ace and aro people have a right to their identity, whether gay, bi, heteroromantic or anything else. End of story.

#discourse #queer discourse #LGBT discourse #Adventures in Aphobia #ace discourse #asexual discourse #aphobia #ace #ace discrimination #asexual #asexuality #aromantic #aro #LGBT #queer #rant #why does this post think it's so intellegent #why did this post try so hard to sound nice at first #it's still aphobia

[busycryin]

REPOST - THE NIGHT WE MET

THE NIGHT WE MET

PART ONE - THE NIGHT WE MET

Pairing: Javier Peña/ Female Murphy!Reader

Words: 5.3k

Summary: You decide to travel to Colombia on a whim, there you meet a gorgeous stranger that just so happens to be your brothers partner. 

Content Warnings: 18+ Smut-ish (I wouldn’t wanna read it out to my mom), dry humping, dirty talk in Spanish which reader doesn’t understand so does it really count?, gratuitous love of the black shirt from the torture scene.

Anon was worried about losing my work when I switched blogs, so fear not. I’m reposting on here but I have no intention of deleting my other blog, it’s where I got my first 200 notes and I’m honestly blown away by it. I’m happy to announce I’m working on a fourth part. I’m not sure when I’ll post it as I’m still in the idea stage but it’s definitely a start, ay!

AO3

MASTERLIST

Author Note: So here is my return to writing! The word count got away from me but I loved every second of it. Always after prompts, so drop me a message on here if you’d like to see anything in particular. If it’s in my wheelhouse, you’ll definitely see it.  

Pedro in the black shirt is what inspired me to write this, I can’t lie.

If you were brutally honest with yourself, this spur of the moment decision may have been a mistake.

Other people could make these choices and not have that nagging feeling in their gut from the second they booked their fuckin’ airline ticket. You had attempted to grab your crappy life by its metaphorical horns and go and sort this shit show out by yourself, but after your momentary bravery was used up, all that was left was a crippling anxiety that threatened to send you into one of your full scale panic attacks if you thought too hard about the fact you were following your big brother to Colombia.

Yes, Colombia. You, a U.S. national with no particular interest in hunting Pablo Escobar, had decided to vacation in sunny, crime ridden Bogotá on a whim.

You were fuckin’ dumb.

Sarcasm aside, you weren’t actually here on vacation, you were going to check on Stevie. Your brother, one of the DEA agents assigned with taking down Escobar.

You’d been worried about him for a few months, it had sounded like he was dealing with heavy shit in South America, you knew that was the job, but he was still your brother.

His calls had gotten less and less frequent until he stopped returning them all together and the only reason you knew he was alive were your pep-talks with your sister-in-law, trying to help her keep her shit together, but hell, you weren’t a therapist or a miracle worker. So when Connie rang asking to stay at your place you had obliged and she had returned to Miami a mere shell of her former self.

After a mammoth amount of prodding over the course of two days you managed to wring the truth out of her, not the nuggets of information she had given you over the phone in hushed whispers during her time in Colombia but the whole messy story; the communist Elisa Alvarez, Steve’s kidnapping and the cold edges your brother was developing.

It was all you could do not to book the tickets there and then, but you held out and supported Connie in the ways Steve couldn’t have, taking care of Olivia when you could and just trying your hardest to be there for her. Your presence alone seemed to be enough to help her through the days that followed.  A week and a half after her return, you booked your flight to Colombia in secret.

You had to check on Steve.

He hadn’t answered a single one of your many many calls. You packed light and told Connie the morning of, and whilst she didn’t like it, she understood. You supposed that a part of her was relieved to know her husband would have someone in Colombia that wasn’t there to kill him.

So here you sat, two hours into your flight to the paradise destination; Bogotá. Your brother’s address scrawled on a scrap piece of paper in the one hand and a glass of cheap whiskey in the other.  The alcohol did little to to calm your nerves, this was a dangerous place for a cop, let alone a fuckin’ clueless civilian.

When the plane finally touched down, you stood from your seat emptying the last few drops of whiskey which had tried to evade you onto your tongue, you picked up your backpack and queued to leave the plane.

The second you left the aircraft the humidity hit you like a brick wall, it was like all of the fresh air had been sucked out of the atmosphere. On a normal evening you would appreciate such a warm climate, but now the heat meant frustration to your tired brain and it only added to your baseline levels of anxiety as your hairline and upper lip were drenched as you walked through the arrivals gate.

Cards on the table; you didn’t have much of a game plan, you spoke no Spanish and stuck out like a sore thumb. You had the address but no means to get there, you didn’t relish the idea of getting in a taxi as a woman alone in a foreign country, but with little to no other options you went to hail one of the cabs that sat outside the airport.

Your fears turned out to be for naught, well not quite naught as the man had raked his eyes across your body for a large percentage of the trip in his mirror, but he had the good grace not to kidnap or murder you, which for you meant it was a successful journey, how low you had set the bar was just occuring to you.

After paying the gentleman he dropped you outside what appeared to Steve’s apartment building. You take a moment on the pavement to recollect yourself ready for your reunion. Peeling your denim jacket off, you decide instead to wrap it around your waist, tying the sleeves securely. With a harumph, you grab the handle of your suitcase, and drag it behind you. Your success thus far gives you a second wind of determination.

Though apparently dumb luck can only get you so far, because after heaving your suitcase up a flight of stairs and rapping on the door of apartment 20 until your knuckles ached, it began to dawn on you, you had no clue if this was even the right building.

“Fuck.” you mutter to yourself, you should’ve rang Connie or tried Steve again when you landed, but you’d been so single minded in carrying out your plan all common sense had apparently abandoned you. So with a million different scenarios of things you could’ve done better playing out behind your eyes you dragged your suitcase to the small lobby of the building, where the front door stood.

You huffed and dropped onto the bottom step in surrender, not quite sure where to go from here.

Weeks of anxiety and worry finally took their toll on your body as reality set in, and as it did so you couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer stupidity of the situation you’d put yourself in. A light chuckle escaped your body as you held your face in your hands, you rubbed at your eyes as a way of refreshing yourself before sighing and leaning back.

You must have sat with your head in your hands for around three hours before anyone of note arrived, you had received strange looks from residents in their comings and goings as they stepped around you, your expectant looks turned to disappointment when you realised they weren’t Steve. In fairness, you, a gringa sitting on the stairs at 2am, most likely wasn’t a daily occurrence to these homeowners.

By the time he came through the door, your eyes were closed and your head was leant on the bannister, trying to get what little rest you could. Your eyes opened a crack to see a man and a woman enter the building and turn right, the man had his arm around her as he stared at you in confusion, the look was so quick you may have missed it if you blinked, but they were talking in low whispers of Spanish and from the looks of things he didn’t give you a second thought.

So you extended him the same courtesy and shut your eyes once again, you heard the metal jangling of keys going into the lock, the sound of smacking lips and then the door was closed. You figured that was the end of it, instead you heard hurried footsteps coming towards you, your eyes shot open as he rounded the corner.

“Estás bien?” The man questioned. It took you a moment to realise he was talking to you, as you took him in you were struck by your stupidity, how could you have dismissed this man so quickly even in the throes of a mental breakdown. His chocolate brown eyes bore into your own as you realised he was waiting for a response.

“Uh… no hablo… español?” you pretty much asked him, cringing internally at your butchering of the most basic sentence of this gorgeous strangers language, his lips quirked at your mumbles making his mustache raise on one side with his smirk. Now, you’d never been a fan of a mustache, Steve and your father had both taken to styling their facial hair in such a way, and as a rule of thumb they were a big no-no. But my god. This man made that mustache his bitch and that bitch worked for him.

“You’re American?” He questions, smirk dropping along with his eyebrows in confusion as his brain processes the information.

“Oh thank god and Jesus fuckin’ christ above. You’re American!” Your timid nature had given way to pure unadulterated relief. “Stevie, Steve Murphy, he lives in this building, yeah?”

“Yeah… Stevi…Steve lives here- I’m sorry, who the hell are you?” He asks with a puzzled look and a shake of his head, there’s an air of distrust about him for some strange reason.

“I’m Y/N Murphy, I’m his sister.”

“Sister? Mierda… does he know you’re here?”

“Nope,” You pop your P as you shrug at the man before you with false nonchalance. “He’d have to answer the phone to me or Connie to know that now, wouldn’t he?”

“Steve.” The stranger sighed, annoyed.

“Sorry, who are you?” You asked, yourself becoming more bemused by the man by the second.

“I’m Steve’s partner, Javier.” He held out his hand which you were more than happy to take in a shake, his tan hand was soft yet strong as it held your own captive within it. “C’mon in I’ll give him a call, God knows what time he’s planning on getting back.”

“Uh, I don’t want to interrupt…” You mumble, waving your free hand vaguely towards where you knew the woman was waiting for him, making him smirk once again.

You were beginning to think that the sarcastic raise of his mouth was just his default resting face.

“You’re not interrupting anything.”

Now I know what you’re thinking, ‘cause I’d think it to. This is how people die in America, let alone fuckin’ Colombia, but if it’s a choice between dying at the hands of a gorgeous man who seems to know your brother or a stray that wonders in through the non-descript lobby door then you’d rather go out with a nice view, even if he did have a girlfriend.

If you had to gamble, you’d say you had a damn good chance of making it out of this apartment alive.

So you nodded and used the hand he hadn’t released yet to pull yourself up into a standing position. He wasn’t particularly tall but he still towered over you, your eyeline gave you a great view past his black shirt which was unbuttoned quite liberally, you assumed that was courtesy of the woman he’d entered with.

“Thank you,” you nodded at him with a genuine smile of relief. He didn’t reply, only grabbed the handle of your pull along suitcase before extending his arm towards his apartment and motioning to wordlessly say, after you.

Now you know how people say when you can feel a stare? You had the sensation before, but as you leaned over to pick up your backpack from the bottom step, you felt his eyes laser focus on your denim clad ass. You turned your head in disbelief and found his eyes still lingered there for a moment before meeting your own. Unbelievable. Part of you was flattered, the other part was bemused that he had a beautiful woman in there waiting and here he was ogling you.

You rolled your eyes, instilled with a new confidence as you turned and walked towards his apartment, you felt his eyes follow your form once more.

Steve’s hot partner was an ass man… Good to know.

…

As it turns out Javier’s girlfriend, or what you we’re starting to think was more of a one night stand, was not happy with the situation at all, you came to this discovery as Javier pointed you to the sofa before beginning arguing with her in hushed Spanish, the beautiful woman huffed and sent a dirty look your way before storming out and slamming the door behind her, with enough power to make it shake in its bearings. You raised your eyebrows at Javier from your seat. He shook his head with a sigh and began lighting up a cigarette, he turned and offered you one.

“No thanks, I quit.”

“Woman with an iron will?”

“Not quite,” You whisper, shaking your head.

He smiles before clearing his throat and moving over to pick up his landline. Javier presses a combination of buttons, before putting it to his ear and blowing the smoke from his lungs. His eyes met yours as the phone rang, he gave you reassuring wink.

“Murphy? … Yeah…  you need to get back to your place now… You’ve got a guest…. No … come find out why don’t you?” Sarcasm dripped from his lazy tone, his voice was so smooth. It was like chocolate on gravel, you could listen to him talk for hours, which led your mind down that deep dark hole of what he sounded like during more carnal acts, he’d be a talker, for definite, what with all that confidence and swagger. “‘Kay… I’ll see you soon.”

Shaking your head you centred yourself, it had been a dry patch for you. You needed to calm down and not throw yourself at your brother’s partner, even if he just so happened to be the first man you had any interest in to show you attention in months.

“He’s on his way,” He confirmed what you already knew but you liked hearing him speak so you nodded in thanks. An awkward silence filled the air for a few moments, as you two perfect strangers shared one another’s company.

“Drink?” He offered pointing at the bottle of whiskey on the counter.

“God, yes.” You all but moaned at the offer. Javier chuckled, and grabbed a second glass from his cupboard, before pouring you both a generous serving.  He walked around the back of the sofa, and passed you the glass of liquid gold and took a seat next to you. Close enough to initiate something, but not touching, quite a respectful distance.

Initiate something? God Y/N, get your mind out of the gutter. This poor man had only invited you in because you were his partner’s sister and he was doing the decent thing.

“Uh… The television work?” You ask, pointing at the empty screen.

“I didn’t realise you could speak Spanish…” His voice was dripping with sarcasm, mocking your earlier attempts at the language, though he reached across and switched the box on with the remote, he began flicking through the channels so quickly he almost gave you a headache.

“Oh yes, I’m very proficient, I just didn’t want to intimidate you earlier. Hola Señor Javier.”  You say continuing his ruse. He chuckles at your words, it’s a deep warm noise that shakes his entire frame. You were definitely thinking about adding Javier’s voice to your top ten list of favourite sounds.

He flicks through the channels, for a few seconds before sighing and dropping the remote in your lap. Taking your assignment seriously, you sit up, bringing yourself a few inches closer to the man next to you, purely accidentally of course and begin flicking through the channels as Javier had done moments before, though 3am TV scheduling left a lot to be desired.

News, News, Colombian QVC, News, News, Soap opera. Bingo!

“Ah, now we’re talking.” You mumble, eyes stuck on the screen of the Colombian Soap opera playing. The two of you sat in silence once again as you slowly sipped on your drinks watching drama play out.

You watched in silence for around ten minutes, not understanding a single word of what was being said. The scene was on two latino actors sitting in a bedroom. The woman was sat on the bed being confronted by the man in a serious tone.

“What is she saying?” You question narrowing your eyes at the beautiful woman’s tone. Javier, who had been watching your reactions the whole time as you got into the awful tv show scrambled as he tried to listen and translate the woman’s words.

“Uh… her dads an alcoholic and she’s trying to support her son… that guy didn’t know about the son… I think… she was happy living a double life without the worry and she wants him to forgive her and start over…”  Javier translated, giving you the general cliff notes.

“Oh shit,” You gasped at his words, but your attention diverted to the screen where the two had continued their heated argument and began kissing or rather where the man was devouring her neck, “I’m getting vibes that he might be open to forgiving her.”

You chuckled at your own joke, as did Javier. Though this time when his body shook his bare elbow touched your own.

How was he so goddamn warm?

All he was wearing was a black button down shirt. One that looked to be the wrong size it was so tightly fitted- not that you were complaining about the view. My God, were you horny today.

You took a gulp of your drink, trying to refocus for the third or fourth time this evening, trying so desperately to reign in your inner school girl and focus on the television, though that didn’t help as the actors were now eating one anothers faces on a bed. The silence was thick with tension, though that could’ve been entirely on you; one innocent touch of a man’s elbow and you’re a blushing mess.  

Get a grip Y/N.

The silence dragged on as you pretended to watch the soap opera you had absolutely no understanding of in a futile attempt to ignore the man next to you. You can only imagine what he thought of your levels of focus on the tv, as you stared at the box in the corner of the room like it was the greatest cinematic masterpiece of all time and you were getting ready to write a full-scale analysis on the work of art.

Javier broke the tension in the room by finally asking the question that had been on his lips all evening.

“You came all the way to Colombia… Why?” Javier grabbed a cigarette off of the coffee table, placing his drink where the carton of smokes had been. He lit the stick and waited for your response, honestly, you were thrown. The question had come out of nowhere whilst you were still trying to analyse why exactly this man had such an effect on you when he was doing nothing but being a good host.  You hastened to think up a half coherent reply before you just answered truthfully.

“Steve stopped answering the phone, I mean he’s always been shitty at checking in, even when he was in Miami. When he got here we’d have a catch up every week or so, we all know how dangerous it is for you guys over here, so we joked about calling it ‘the alive check’. For the last couple of months, I was checking in with Connie more than Steve but he’d still pick up once every week, without fail. Then four weeks ago the fucker stopped answering my calls all together and Connie showed up on my doorstep with Olivia in tow last week.”

“Look, you coming down here probably makes more problems than it solves, Steve’s a big boy if he doesn’t call to check in, it’s probably ‘cause he’s busy…  He’s-” Something about Javier’s dismissive tone rubbed you the wrong way, call it sleep deprivation or blame the weeks of stress, but you were tired of being called paranoid. You were not an overbearing mother hen.

“My brother always answers my calls. Or at least he used to. I can’t begin to understand what you guys are going through, but I’m not losing my brother to some piece of shit Colombian drug dealer.”

Javier raised his hands in mock surrender, cigarette still in mouth. “He’s actually more of a drug lord slash narcoterrorist, but-”

“How is he?” You interrupt Javier’s attempt at diffusing the situation with humor, turning to him on the sofa. You rearranged yourself, bringing your leg up so your knee touched his thigh as you gave him your full attention,  you plucked the smoke from between his lips and held it between your two fingers as you spoke. “Tell me Steve’s fine. Tell me I’m worrying for nothing and I’ll get back on that plane and leave tomorrow morning.“

You take one drag and offer it back to him, he accepts it, deliberately looking you in the eyes as he places the cigarette in his mouth, attaching his lips to where your own had been seconds earlier.  He takes it from his mouth and stubs it on an ash tray that rests on the arm of the sofa, his focus is single minded on his task. The pressure in your lower stomach is mounting as you stare at the tanned man before you who is carrying out a menial task that has you more turned on than you’d ever admit.

When the red tip is extinguished thoroughly, taking much longer than you thought it needed to, Javi turns to you, his mahogany eyes have you pinned in your tracks. You found yourself admitting they were gorgeous for the second time this evening, they were the type of brown you could never quite describe, they had so much depth, not quite a chocolate, not quite coffee, they were rich and deep pools. They reminded you of the forest, not the green leaves but the earthy brown, the strong beams of wood that held everything up around it.

Javier’s hand emigrated forward slowly, your eyes followed the movement in your peripheral but you didn’t dare look away from the pools of molasses as he reached to grip one hand at your denim thigh, his eyes roamed your face for any sign of this being an unwelcome approach and when he found none his other hand began its climb to rest on your jaw, just below your ear.

You couldn’t say if you moved towards him or if he advanced on you, all you knew was he was on you now as the tips of your noses rubbed against one another.

“Quiero saborearte…” He whispered so lowly you barely even heard it before he leaned in that last inch and captured your lips in a single, chaste kiss. Your lips connected and you realised the heat you had felt from his arms had been nothing. Fire coursed through your veins upon contact, surging through your blood and going south to a pressure that built in your lower stomach.

Your hand shot up to land on his collarbone, before you could even really consider your own actions you pulled apart until your foreheads were the only thing touching.  He was intoxicating, you could lose yourself completely in this man, he somehow smelt like cinnamon, whiskey and sweat, a combination you’d never thought would send liquid fire through your central nervous system.  You’d give anything to taste him properly, but this was wrong. So so wrong. This was your brother’s partner, this was inviting complication to your door, when you were just here to check on Steve. You were here for Steve.

You were here for Steve…

“… This isn’t a good idea.” You all but whisper, closing your eyes. Regret pulses through your veins at your self imposed restraint.

“Never is.” He leaned forward and captured your lips. You didn’t have any fight left in you, exhausted and at wits end you embraced your spiral into stupidity instead and your hands glided across the clammy skin of his neck to grab at his short ink black hair. You wrapped your fingers around it to drag him closer to you, your lips clashed, all teeth at first but you didn’t care as his tongue began to fight against yours for dominance.

He tasted as good as you imagined, he was the right combination of sweet and bitter, with undertones of whiskey and tobacco on his tongue. Your response to his assault on your mouth told him it was go time, Javier pulled you into his lap and his hands lowered to your ass. Your body was flush with his own as your breasts pressed against his chest, you could feel every solid line of his lithe body against your own.

You licked at his honied tongue, before withdrawing and pulling his bottom lip into your mouth and sucking on the soft plush skin. His mustache tickled your upper lip, a sensation you weren’t used to but could so easily grow to love.  This made him tighten his grip on your backside in response and he let out a throaty groan at the meat he found there, Javier was definitely an ass man, you felt his bulge pressing against your core as you both began grinding against each other in earnest. You felt like a horny teenager as you grinded on a man you barely knew.

You felt him grip at the bottom of your tank top and begin to lift it, except he stopped, and began to rub patterns on the stomach he exposed. Javier’s mouth descended from your lips to begin to suck and lick at your throat. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head at his work as pleasure rippled throat your body. His hands slid the length of your body to grab at your chest, which conforming to every stereotype was heaving, he palmed your breast blindly as his face was still buried in your hair, sucking and kissing along to your ear, before he raised his mouth a mere inch and whispered  “Te follaré toda la noche niña.”

He said it with such surety that your body convulsed in on itself without even needing to know what the man above you was saying. You could only hope it was absolutely filthy and profanity ridden, because then at least, the sentiment would be shared. He bit at the lobe of your ear before his hands left your breasts and travelled to the hem of your tank top, getting ready to pull it over your head.

It was strange to say that you remembered your brother was on his way here as a man tried to take your t-shirt off, but that’s just the way it went. You knew if that top came off, dry humping would be the most PG action of the night and if Steve turned up and found you mounted on his partner, he probably wouldn’t be too thrilled.

You couldn’t stop yourself from stroking the man’s hair whose face was planted in between your tits as his hips rose against your own pushing his hardened length up against the seams of your jeans, you gasped as he hit that sweet spot. You let out a noise that sounded like a wail. You wanted nothing more than to lie back and let this man have his filthy way with your body. And you know, from the hour you’ve spent with this man it would be phenomenally filthy. The kind of sex that would ruin all men for you, but no. You had to be a good sister. Like a fuckin loser.

Sighing, you threw your body sideways before you could change your mind and ended up on your back. Javier followed you, caging you with his frame as he covered your body with his own.  Gripping your face like he was a starving man and you were the only sustenance he’d ever need. It would be so easy to get lost in him, to give in to that magic tongue but you couldn’t let this go any further so you placed a hand on his chest.

Taking your cue he paused his tongues assault on your mouth and stopped, resting his forehead against your own. You were both breathing heavily trying to come back down to reality, his eyes were no longer the chocolate brown you’d been comforted by when you met, but rings of obsidian staring into your soul. You wanted this man, my god you did. But this would make more problems for Steve.

The two of you stayed that way for a while, foreheads and bodies pressed against one another until both of your breathing evened out. The silence dragged, heavy in the air as you two strangers both waited for the other to break it.

“…Is Steve okay?”

“…No… He’s been fuckin’ mess ever since Connie left.” Javier sighed whilst closing his eyes and breathing deep. You raised your hands from his chest, which was difficult as he was crushing his body to yours and cupped his cheek, you joined your lips once more, much like the first kiss. This was sweet and there wasn’t a carnal appetite behind it but rather an understanding.

The loud knock on the front door startles you both as you’d been so wrapped up in one another you’d not heard the steps leading to it. The two of you split apart like a pair of guilty teens caught in the act. You both stared at each other for a second before he nods at you and walks to the front door whilst rearranging his bulge discreetly in his jeans, this was something you pretended not to see as you sat back up right on the sofa. You had only a moment to fix yourself, as you pulled your tank top from where it was hooked by your breasts and ran your fingers through your hair so you didn’t look like you’ve just had the ravaging of a lifetime.

Javier pulled open the door and you clutch your hands into your lap, not quite sure what kind of reception you were about to receive from your brother. You hear the two men greet one another in hushed whispers, you couldn’t make out Steve’s voice much until you hear his voice clear as day “…what the hell was so important it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

You stand from your spot on the sofa and quickly realise the button on your jeans is undone; if you’re honest you don’t even know how he managed to do that without you noticing, even though it’s not the time you take a solitary second to commend Javier on his artistry of disrobing a woman. Turning quickly you pull the rivet back through the hole and swing around as Steve crosses the threshold from the hallway.  

Steve looks from you, to Javier and then back to you once more in complete surprise. It takes his brain a hot second to process that you’re here in front of him and in Colombia before he rushes you. Clutching you tight and hugging you to his chest. You hear something that sounds suspiciously like a sob leave your brothers chest before he collapses into you. The front door and Javier’s bedroom both in rapid succession, giving you the privacy you knew your brother would need after breaking down like this.

You couldn’t support Steve’s weight with your considerably smaller frame and the two of you fell to the ground as you held your broken brother. His body shook with silent sobs as he buried his face in your shoulder.

You said nothing as you held him and stroked his hair. In that moment you thanked your every instinct that screamed at you to come to Colombia.

This had definitely not been a mistake.

#pedro pascal x reader #javier pena x reader #javier peña x reader #repost #narcos fanfiction