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#no seriously the country side sucks it's too quiet
luci-in-trenchcoats · 7 months
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If I Fell For You: Worst Nightmare
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Summary: Jensen's worst nightmare is about to come true...
Masterlist
Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader
Word Count: 1,600ish
Warnings: language, heavy mentions of injury/blood/car accident
A/N: The agnst is strong...
________
Shouting woke you up. Very loud, very upset shouting. You blinked, slowly turning your head and finding the world was upside down. There was something to your left, something bent and the smell of metal and blood in the air made your nose twinge.
Then you remembered you were in the car. Driving on the highway to the brewery to grab some pizza and a few beers to bring home for dinner. You turned and touched the metal panel, the front of the car or part of the roof was your guess, now smack dab in the center console and cutting you off from the other side.
“Jay,” you croaked out. The shouting stopped and you squeezed your eyes shut. “Jensen. I’m okay.”
“Y/N,” he said as you remembered him shoving a hand in front of your chest. 
“Please tell me you’re in one piece,” you whispered.
“Yeah, I-I think so. Y-You?”
“I think so too,” you said, putting a hand on the roof below you, the windshield caved in, passenger door looking like a crumbled piece of paper. “Jay, I’m stuck in here.”
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I think it’s just bumps and bruises,” you said. “Can you move?”
“No,” he said quietly, not saying another word.
“Are you hurt?” He didn’t respond and you hit the panel between you. “Hey! Are you hurt?”
“I’m okay.”
“Dammit, tell me the truth.”
“My arm is cut up some but I’m okay. I can’t…fuck I can’t get out either.” He slapped the metal piece between you and you shushed him. “Y/N-“
“Relax honey. Sh, relax. I’m right here. I’m gonna be okay and you’re gonna…be okay…it’s going to be just fine. Just…just do your breathing that Ray showed you when you get anxious okay? It’ll…be okay,” you said, pressing your hand against your bleeding leg. “Shit.”
“You sound hurt,” he breathed out. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m uh, bleeding from my thigh. It’s not gushing so it couldn’t have been anything too bad, right?” you tried to joke, Jensen slamming against the panel again. “It’s not that deep. Also I’m pretty sure I have pizza in my hair.”
“What?” 
“Yeah. I hope you like the smell of marinara cause that’s gonna take forever to wash out,” you said, trying to leverage yourself against the roof of the car. “Now’s as good a time as any to tell you this.”
“Tell me what?” he asked quietly. “Are you-”
“Led Zeppelin sucks and I cannot believe you have so many of their original records. Don’t even get me started on your infatuation with fucking country music. I hate country music and I think it’s time I put my foot down and ban it from the house. What do you say?” you said, squeezing your palm hard over your leg.
He let out a quiet huff of air that was akin to a dry laugh. 
“I say you’re trying to distract me which either means you’re seriously fucked up over there and not telling me or you’re trying to keep me from having a panic attack by falsely insulting my music. So-”
“Hey, I do not like country as much as you and those are facts.”
“I know you don’t yet you listen to it for me,” he said, realizing for the first time it was still playing on the radio. “Imagine if you had to die listening to music you hated.”
“I’d live out of pure spite,” you said, Jensen chuckling a little. “I promise it’s the later. Trust me. If it were bad, I’d be asking you all sorts of shit about Dee so we can shit talk your music choices in the afterlife.”
He laughed for a split second, grunting loudly and making your heart race. “Yeah, you’re okay. Or not actively dying at least.”
“Not doing that. On the negative, everything hurts but positive side, I smell like pizza and beer, two of your favorite things.”
“Always got those silver linings,” he said as you heard sirens in the distance. “Y/N?”
“Yeah, honey?”
“You know how I said my arm was cut up?” he said, swallowing thickly. The pit in your stomach dropped, eyes closing.
“How bad is it?” you whispered.
“Bad enough I wrapped my belt around my arm to stop the bleeding.”
“Be honest. Please,” you said, wishing you could do something, anything. The silence was deafening, his labored inhale the only indication that he was still awake. “How bad?”
“There’s a piece of metal sticking out of my forearm. Pretty sure it sliced through the veins in there judging by the amount of blood.” You fought back tears, taking a shaky breath. “I’m really cold and tired. But I’m gonna stay awake-”
“Write me a song. Write me a fucking country song right now,” you said, forcing your eyes open. “What’s the melody?”
“Uh, what?” he asked. “Y/N, I’m-”
“I know what you’re saying and you can stay up until dawn even when you’re exhausted when you’re working on music so you write me a damn song right now and stay the fuck awake,” you croaked out. 
“Well I need a banjo in there because I know that’s your favorite,” he teased, car doors slamming nearby. 
“You’re a dickhead,” you said, Jensen chuckling. “Alright, banjo. What else?”
“Violin and a cello somehow. You fucking love the sound of-” 
“Him first!” you shouted when you saw some boots in front of you, quickly watching them jog to his side of the car.
“Oh shit,” one of the responders said and with that, your heart truly sank, unsure if it would ever come back up.
They’d gotten Jensen out of the car first and carted off by the time you had a makeshift bandage around your thigh. Something felt off with your leg and several hours and a surgery later, your foot was in a cast. But when you woke up in post-op, Jensen wasn’t there, a nurse telling you he was still in the operation room.
So now all you could do was sit in a room in the ICU, staring out the glass door, praying you saw Jensen. It felt like the longest twenty three minutes of your life.
You shot straight up in bed when you saw a sleepy looking Jensen getting stopped in a bed outside your door.
“Whoa. I want to stay in the hot girl’s room,” he murmured, winking lazily at you. Yeah, he was definitely hopped up on something, his right arm wrapped and wrapped and wrapped in a thick mass of bandages. 
“Let’s leave her alone,” said the nurse behind the bed, pushing him forward again, making him shout. She froze, Jensen staring in your room, shaking his head out.
“That’s my wife. I want to be with her.” The nurse sighed, Jensen’s face falling. “Please,” he whispered, voice cracking.
“You can see her in a minute, I promise,” she said, pushing him along. You waited exactly four minutes before slamming the nurse button over and over, one entering your room, giving you an annoyed glare.
“You should be sleeping,” she said. “You need to rest.”
“My husband is on the other side of this wall and last time I saw him he was bleeding out so I think a five minute field trip is more than fair-”
“He’s asleep like you should be.” You stared her down, the nurse eventually relenting. “Just stay there.” She left and returned after three minutes, shoving an ipad in your hand. “We used these during the pandemic. You can facetime him for a few minutes but then you both need sleep.”
She tapped a number and a split second later, Jensen’s beat up face appeared on screen.
“Well if ain’t the hot girl calling me from her bed,” he teased, the nurse rolling her eyes and leaving. “Are you alone?”
“Yeah. How are you?” you asked. He held up his injured arm and sighed. “You’re alive and that’s what matters.”
“I’m going to need physical therapy again. Months to recover and rebuild the muscle in my forearm. I already know it. You too with that foot of yours.” He rested his head against his pillow. “What about that cut on your leg?”
“Just gotta lay off it for a bit. It’s the same leg as my broken foot so that’ll be easy.” You both just stared at each other for a moment, a mess of bruises and small cuts littering your skin. “We’ll get through this.”
“I know.” He glanced down, closing his eyes. “I didn’t realize I was bleeding so bad until you made me calm down by insulting one of the best bands in history. You saved my neck.”
“That only happened because you put your arm in front of me. It could have been so much worse and-”
“Silly girl,” he murmured, slowly forcing his eyelids open, a softness to them you weren’t expecting. “I’ll always protect you. If you get a little less hurt because I did then that’s a win for me.”
Your bottom lip wobbled, Jensen shushing you. “Don’t say things like that, Jay.”
“Says the girl who stopped me from having a full on panic attack during arguably my worst nightmare. We protect each other, that’s how it works.” You smiled, Jensen returning it. “I’m taking you to a country music festival when we’re up for it in honor of saving me.”
“I want a divorce.” 
He laughed so loud you heard it echo down the hall. He’d be okay again. You both would.
Eventually.
_________
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fayes-fics · 2 years
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Congrats on 200 followers. May I make a request? I love Anthony Bridgerton modern AU. Maybe something with the prompts “friends don’t do shit like this” and “i love to hear you moan my name.”
Thank you, you’re the best!
Are we friends?
Friends + Masterpost
Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader, Modern AU
Summary: Modern AU. Old friends become something more.
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Warnings: 18+ smut, minors dni, oral sex (m to f), vaginal sex, swearing.
Authors Note: Hi Nonny! Thank you and thanks for this prompt. I've never written modern AU before and can I just say this was SO MUCH FUN!! Yet again I have written a fucking epic, rather than 500-word ficlet. This is a little late for posting as it is a 3K MONSTER. I need a strong word with myself. I hope you enjoy. <3
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House parties. Sometimes they suck, and sometimes, well, they are a revelation.
You are never happier than when your oldest and best friend Daphne finds Simon. But attending their house-warming party is, well, intimidating. You’ve known the Bridgertons your whole life, your parents' farm backing onto a corner of their giant country estate, but it appears Simon is from another level of wealth even than her. The place they have bought together is frankly ridiculous—the penthouse of a fancy all-glass building overlooking the Thames. Everything is tasteful, chic, modern and eye-wateringly expensive. It makes your cute garden flat in Ealing look, well, pokey as fuck, to be honest. As you self-consciously wander around stealing delicious canapes, you feel out of place; your perfectly presentable high-street-store heels probably shouldn't even be allowed to walk on such pristine marble.
You round a corner to a quiet nook, into what appears to be a home office when you see him staring out the window across the lights of London at night. Daph’s oldest brother, head of the family, and CEO of Bridgerton Investments, Anthony. Yours has always been an antagonistic dynamic. He carries himself with the ease and arrogance of a rich man of the upper echelons of London society. So much of his demeanour and standing is almost an affront to your hardworking, make-your-own-way-in-the-world mentality. Fuck if he isn't handsome, though. 
“Y/n,” he greets with a rich tone, “it's been too long. Still bringing the world to rights?”
He remembers you’re a journalist.
“Anthony,” you respond in kind, “still making the rich richer?”
He barks a laugh at your riposte and takes a swig of something expensive looking. 
“Come now, have a drink with me; let’s both give the world a rest for the night,” he suggests, pouring you something from a side cabinet. 
You shrug and move to take the glass he proffers, “I can do that, old friend.”
“Less of the old,” he chides, giving you a sideways glance as you pull up in front of the same view.
“I've known you my whole life Anthony,” you volley, “you can't lie to me about just how close to forty you are, not the way you do to all those Mayfair girls.”
“Ouch,” he feigns a chest injury, “don't forget, I remember when you were born, you can’t pretend to be twenty-five anymore either y/n.”
“It's rude to ask a lady her age; it's even ruder to remind her,” you shoot back, taking a deep draw of the liquor. Damn, this stuff is good.
It's like no time has passed since you last did this. This is always your dynamic - antagonistic friendly fire until he finds a younger, less challenging, prettier woman to take home. Not that you’ve ever thought it would go further, but he always seems so flirty.
He turns his whole body towards you, leaning a shoulder casually on the window. “No boyfriend?” his tone smug.
“Left him handcuffed to my bed,” you jest, draining your glass.
“Lucky fuck,” he breaks into a suggestive smile.
You give him a pointed look and waggle the empty glass at him. He raises an eyebrow, then takes and refills it. He crowds a little closer on his return, his fingers lingering on yours as he hands you the drink.
“Seriously though…” 
“Too busy,” you shrug, deciding on honesty, “no one worthy.” You take another swig, chasing the louche feeling you get after a couple of drinks when the world doesn't seem so bad. 
“That last part, I can believe,” his voice pitched a little lower.
It's your turn to throw him a sideways glance. “How many drinks have you had?” you ask warily.
He gusts a laugh that you feel over your cheekbone. “Enough to know what I'm doing, not enough for it to impact performance.”
This is something new—blatant sexual allusion.
You turn to face him, almost akin to a challenge. If he wants to try this, you're intrigued to see how just how far he’ll push it.
“Performance often a problem, Bridgerton?” you raise an eyebrow, invoking his last name and draining your second drink.
He takes both of your empty glasses and sets them aside.
“No complaints yet,” he crowds closer, his hand reaching to brush a lock of your hair behind your ear, “but maybe you can give me some honest good old-fashioned friendly feedback, hmmm?” 
It's the last thing he says before his lips land on yours.
He tastes of whiskey and expensive cigars he likely smoked earlier on the balcony. He pulls you against his body, snaking one arm around to rest low on your back, the other curling around your head to direct the kiss. And what a fucking kiss. You can't deny he knows precisely what to do. His tongue is teasing but skilled, parrying and dancing with yours. 
“Thoughts?” he murmurs against your lips, pulling back a little, his fingers edging lower onto your butt.
“Friends don’t do shit like this,” you respond opaquely, smiling against him.
“Are we friends?” he queries with a playful tone, moving to kiss down your neck.
“Hmm, good point, at best you are my friend's arrogant older brother,” you reply, running a hand up into his luscious thick hair and scratching your nails across his scalp. 
He hums against your skin in response. “And you are the bratty know-it-all friend of my little sister - definitely not friends.” He concludes, biting lightly at the spot where your neck meets your shoulder.
“Well, with that decided, perhaps we should get on with things?” you challenge with your best seductive tone.
He smiles wolfishly and pulls back, taking both your hands in his and walking backwards out of the room, pulling you along with him.
“Where are we going?” you laugh.
“Where I should have taken you a long fucking time ago,” he gruffs, “to bed.”
“Anthony!” you admonish, shocked at his audacity.
“Oh, don't play coy with me now, y/n,” he scolds quietly, “we have been playing this game for almost ten years now, and finally, you take the bait I've been offering you all this time. I'm not letting you go now.”
The possessive, arrogant attitude oozes out of every fibre of his being; on any other person that would have earned a slap and maybe even a drink in the face. But on him. Well, it's disarmingly attractive.
“And where do you propose we do that? I'm not going to have sex in my best friend's bed!” you hiss.
He pulls a face at the idea of doing anything in his sister's room, then, after a pause, leans forward. “Who do you think owns the other penthouse in the building?” he buzzes near your ear.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” you roll your eyes.
“Actually, I am,” he chuckles, squeezing your hands, “wouldn't want to live that close to Simon. It's a friend’s place; he lent me his keys while in Dubai this week. Figured I’d want to crash there after this party.”
“Is there anyone rich in London you don't know?” your voice incredulous, but a smile creeps over your features despite yourself.
He pretends to consider the question. “No one worthy of knowing,” he winks. Then his face takes on a more sober mien. “So, will you?”
“Will I what?” 
“Come with me,” he whispers, pulling you into him and nudging his nose against your temple.
You realise he’s giving you an out. All the bluster of the early challenge was just that. He is serious, making a fond feeling bloom in your chest.
“Yes,” you murmur with a shy smile, giving his jaw a quick kiss.
“Good,” he says, spinning to stand by your side, keeping one hand in yours. “Let’s get out of here before they rope us into something truly horrendous like karaoke.”
“Karaoke, really?”
“Simon bought a machine,” he physically shudders as he recalls it, pulling you across the hallway towards the front door.
_____
You suspect it might be awkward once you are alone in the other apartment with Anthony, but he doesn't give you a chance to think about it. 
Soon as the door is closed, he doesn't even flip on the light; he just crowds you against the back of the door and pulls you into a deep, sensual kiss. The kind that makes your bones liquefy, feeling like you could slide into a puddle on the floor. The fucker knows how to kiss; you’ll give him that.
As he kisses you senseless, a hand quests up under your dress. You are astonished when he full-on cups your pussy with force, almost lifting you against the door.
“Give a girl some warning,” you pant, breaking away from his lips. The heat and pressure of his hand making you flood your knickers even more.
“I've given you ten years of warning; I'm not about to go slow now,” he announces with a tone that brokers no argument.
Oh fuck. This could get dangerous, real fast.
His middle finger starts to stroke hard against you, dragging into your slit, pushing the material against your soaked skin.
“I can feel how wet you are through these,” he growls. “So don't pretend you need any more teasing. I could fuck you right here.”
“Take them off,” you surprise yourself with that breathless request.
“Gladly,” his hands slide to your hips, pulling the material down. His smile is deadly as he sinks to his knees, dragging his hands heavily over the contour of your legs. You step out of them, and he pushes your dress up above your waist and buries his nose right against your trimmed public hair.
“God, you smell good,” he moans, inhaling deep, his tongue snaking out and lapping a line into your slit, catching against your clit.
“Fuck, Anthony,” your moan loudly.
“I love to hear you moan my name,” he growls, lifting one of your legs over his shoulder and diving deeper into you. “Do you know how many times I've thoughts about this?” he hisses against your heated flesh. “And still reality exceeds expectation.”
“You have thought about this?” you struggle to form a sentence as he works his tongue so hard you see stars.
“Ten fucking years y/n,” he answers, almost pained, looking up and holding your gaze fiercely. “And now I'm going to make sure you never want to fuck anyone else.”
The challenge, the possessiveness, the desperation in his voice - it's blisteringly hot. 
“Please fuck me, Anthony,” you breathe.
“Only once you have cum into my mouth,” he answers, making you cry out as he buries a finger into your cunt. Then another, pushing hard.
“But I need you now, please, please”, you chant.
“Not yet,” is the last thing he says before he pushes his whole face into you and uses everything to make you cum faster than anyone has before in your life. His nose, his lips, his tongue, his fingers. The vibration he creates through his rich sounds. Nothing, and you mean nothing you have experienced before, comes close. He actually bites your clit between his teeth. It's just the right side of pain, and that is what pushes you over the edge. You know you are babbling and screaming, and god knows what. Usually, you would be embarrassed by the gush you feel, but he just heaps praise as you come hard onto his face, greedily lapping it up and asking for more.
“Now you are ready,” he preens as you stare down at him slack-jawed, panting, almost lightheaded.
He pulls you to the floor and finds the zip on your dress, peeling it off your body while you are still floating in some blissful state. Your bra soon follows, and you only start returning to the room as he hovers over your naked body, his lips dragging near your nipples. Him still fully clothed.
“Get undressed,” you grouse at him, pulling at the buttons low on his shirt.
He chuckles and sits up on his haunches between your legs, quickly unbuttoning the shirt and tossing it aside.
“These too,” you swat at his jeans as if they cause you personal offence. Pausing to admire his torso in the moonlight as you so do.
“Are you always so bossy after an orgasm?” he laughs.
“Give me another one some time, and maybe you’ll find out,” you retort, having no idea where that came from.
“Some time? Some time?” He repeats incredulously, pulling down his zipper, “how about right the fuck now?”
“That works,” you shrug, “let's see if you can,” then break into a grin.
“I can't believe you still want to spar with me, even naked” he shakes his head, but there's an affection in his voice. He is peeling down his jeans and underpants, lowering himself back onto you. You bring up your feet to push his jeans the rest of the way off and reach to grab his bare, shapely ass. 
“Anthony Bridgerton, there is nothing sexier in the world than sparring with you,” you sigh, your mouth running away from you, those two drinks making your lips looser than usual. Too late now; it's out there. 
He goes still above you. “Do you mean that?” his voice sounds a little winded.
“Always,” you reply, and even in the darkness of the unlit apartment, you see a few emotions flash over his handsome face. 
Wanting to break the slight tension, you pull a face at him. “Now, are you going to fuck me on this very expensive-looking, very soft, by the way, rug? Or do I need to drag you to that outrageously overpriced couch?” He’s giggling now. “There’s probably a bed that costs more than my entire apartment somewhere if you prefer?” you joke, the buzz of his amusement cresting hard through your veins.
His laughter peals louder the longer you speak. “I can honestly say I have never laughed this much while about to have sex,” he almost snorts.
“You haven't been fucking the right people,” you retort, grinning.
“Clearly not,” his reply is droll. “Good thing I am now,” he adds, raising an eyebrow and giving you a surprisingly tender kiss. 
You don't really want to think through all the connotations behind that statement.
“Shit,” he breaks away and drops his head suddenly onto your chest, “I forgot condoms. Fuck! Do you have any? If not, I can see if may….”
“Anthony,” you interject calmly, “are you clean?”
“Yes, of course,” he frowns.
“So am I, and I have an IUD. So y’know it's ok, really.”
“Really,” his eyes go wide.
“Really,” you repeat and touch his face.
“I've not done it like this in a long time,” he admits in a surprisingly quiet voice.
You smile up at him and reach between you, grabbing him for the first time. His breathing stutters, and he moans hard against your ear. You can't see much in the low light, but he feels wonderful. Girthy enough to be a proper handful, long enough to need two hands, most likely. Oh yes fucking please is all you can think. You guide him towards your body and let him take over.
He teases, ploughing against you, catching your clit with his tip. You inhale sharply at that. Then he leans down to hook his lips onto yours as he pushes lower and finds your entrance.
He pushes into your body at just the right pace - it's not a tease, it's not violent - it's just an insistent delicious stretch getting stronger and stronger as he advances. This is what the fuck it should always be like, you think to yourself, exhaling hard.
“Oh fuck y/n,” Anthony gulps when he reaches the hilt. “I'd forgotten what this feels like. You are so hot and tight, and fuck, I'm sorry, I'm not going to last long. It's just….” 
“It's okay,” you reassure him; you are already halfway there again; it won't take much to pull you over the edge. Just feeling so viscerally invaded, the stretch pulling all the skin around your cunt, your clit pulled down taut towards his shaft. “Just fuck me, Anthony.”
He groans at that and starts to move, withdrawing from your body slowly and then pushing back in fast. You rasp with the feeling, him almost bodily moving you across the floor. Then he increases the pace and strength of his thrusts, resting his forehead on yours, staring into your eyes intensely. He is dragging along all the right spots, and you push up hard against him, loving the scratch of his chest hair against your nipples. 
He growls and changes angle, hooking his arms around your shoulders. Now he is catching against that place deep inside that hurts so right. It makes your skin hum, and your body shake. You grab his bum and pull him into you harder, begging for more. He reacts with an almost predatory kiss, plundering your mouth. It's never been quite this intense before. It feels like he is everywhere all at once. You draw your legs up either side of his hips, widening your stance, opening yourself up more to him; to this. His public bone is hitting right onto your swollen clit. Yes, that is it. Fuck, if you don't want this to hurt a little, something to remind you of this fantastic night. 
You don't have time to warn him before the pulsation starts deep inside, gripping him like a vice, and he roars your name. It's different to your first orgasm; it's wave after wave of body convulsions that you don't fight. You feel him stutter and curl against you as he pulses hard inside you.
He collapses on top of you, spent and breathing heavy. You both seem incapable of words. Just hands caressing and slowing heartbeats.
“Anthony,” you whisper after a few moments.
“Mmmm,” he barely raises his head from your shoulder, kissing the skin there.
“Do you want that ‘honest good old-fashioned friendly feedback’ now?” you parrot his words from earlier back to him.
“Do your worst,” he chortles against your neck.
“No complaints,” you sigh. “Absolutely no fucking complaints,” you state categorically, running your hands over his back.
“Good,” he smiles against your skin. “Cos, we are going to need to do this again.” He pulls up to look down at you. “Repeatedly.”
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Tagging: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @kkpolakow
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upwardsonwards · 3 years
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there is something incredibly personal about living in apartment blocks. you learn such personal little details about people's lives without ever exchanging a word with them.
i know the boy in the flat below me plays guitar and sings. i can't remember what he looks like, but he's gotten better over the years. i know that somewhere on this floor, someone's gotten a dog. and in the flat to the right the mother is a teacher. i hear her voice sometimes during a lull in my own lessons. i know that in the flat opposite my bedroom window, one of them likes to have a morning smoke on the balcony.
when i was younger and i went to bed earlier, in the summer i would see people eating supper on their balconies and i could hear snatches of conversation.
it's nice, you know. it makes everything seem more homely.
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continuations · 2 years
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Fighting the Russian Invasion of Ukraine
Other than a few tweets I have stayed quiet on Russia’s invasion of Ukraine as I was reading a ton to try and form an opinion. I am writing this post as much for myself as anyone else, as writing helps me clarify my thinking and also records it so I can go back to it at a later point. For those who just want the conclusion up front: I believe NATO needs to push back hard on Russia now, including supplying much more equipment to Ukraine. We also urgently need to stop our energy purchases from Russia.
First, what about any historic promises to Russia not to expand NATO eastward and aren’t we at fault here? Shouldn’t the Ukraine have been guided to a neutrality stance instead? Sure, that absolutely could have been a better approach but happens to be completely irrelevant now as we will never know how that would have played out. The same, incidentally, goes for the opposite view, which is that we should have already had Ukraine in NATO by now. Most of the people writing about these alternatives are some version of: “if you had only done what I had been suggesting there wouldn’t be a war today.” Again: totally unknowable and also irrelevant.
Why am I saying it’s irrelevant? Because we are not dealing with a rational actor on the other side but with a deranged dictator. Putin has been in power way too long and has killed off opposition leaders. He also doesn’t appear to be in the most stable place mentally, as a clear-headed Putin is unlikely to have let all those pictures get out of him sitting way on one end of a super long table making him appear sick or paranoid. Putin has time and again revealed his ambitions in writing and in speeches to build a Russian world that includes many of the places that have previously been part of the empire/union. Ignoring those expressions is like ignoring Hitler’s “Mein Kampf,” where he laid out his ambitions.
What about the nuclear threat? Born in Germany in 1967, I grew up with that threat still very much on everyone’s mind and have often found myself surprised by how much it had receded into the background. First, I believe that there is a non-zero risk of a nuclear war and that’s been the case ever since we had large arsenals of nuclear weapons (another reason to try to live your life well every day). Second, unless he’s managed to change the system, Putin cannot simply push a button and launch nukes. According to detailed descriptions of the set up, the Russian code book is in three parts, all of which need to be assembled to arm weapons and Putin has only one third of that. Third, Putin is already calling sanctions an act of war. So to think that there is some bright line on one side of which we are safe and on the other we are doomed makes no sense. Fourth, the nuclear threat is no different if Putin were to attack a NATO country and so you really would have to believe that he would stop at Ukraine (counter his own words). So yeah, it sucks to have this threat out there but it ain’t going away and we will only come closer to it no matter what. Put differently, this risk is going up with inaction, not down.
Pushing back hard now will make this war go longer and cost more human lives. So why do it? There is no endgame in Ukraine right now that doesn’t result in massive bloodshed. Does anyone seriously think the Ukrainians will just happily be ruled by a puppet regime installed by Moscow? If this war drags on there is a real chance that Putin is in fact toppled, as he and the war are clearly unpopular in Russia. And if he’s not, then at least the chances of a subsequent attempt to invade a NATO member such as Estonia are diminished dramatically (not because Putin himself might not attempt it, but because the opposition around him can grow).
So I find myself in the hawkish position here. I would, however, add that we should focus on much more targeted sanctions than we have. Russia is very much a controlled media environment and it does not help if citizens there start to believe the West is targeting them without reason, driving them to support Putin. Our two biggest levers as going after oligarchs (by the way here I think freezing assets is much better than seizing them outright -- what’s the point, if oligarchs think they can never have them back?) and stopping our energy purchases. The latter is going to hurt us a lot and if we are at all serious about supporting Ukraine we have to be willing to pay that price. Right now we have the worst possible combination: targeting the broad population while at the same time still giving tons of money to the Putin regime every day.
The second order effects of this war are likely to be terrible. The Ukraine is a major food producer and would need to be seeding right now. That’s likely to be massively disrupted if not outright impossible. Given the amounts involved we are talking about more than just a spike in prices. There is a high chance of famines that might kill thousands if not millions of people. Along with this will come political unrest and destabilization in many more parts of the world.
All in all then it is hard to overestimate the extent to which this will get worse before it gets better. Despite all of this there are also reasons for hope. There’s been an awakening globally to just how dangerous a dictator Putin is (something that had been denied by too many for far too long). I admire the Ukrainians who are willing to fight for their freedom and the Russians who are openly demonstrating against the war, despite the threat of draconian punishment. They all deserve our every support.
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edwardskhakipants · 3 years
Text
Forks, Washington. August 2004.
Esme and Carlisle stood in the middle of their grand living room, waiting for their five vampire children to arrive. Alice arrived first—prompt as usual. She settled herself gracefully onto the tufted sofa Esme had recently acquired, only to be immediately jostled by Emmett who heaved himself onto the cushions. A breath caught in Esme’s throat—she had lost many pieces from her beloved collection by that action—but it looked like this one was still in one piece. For the moment. Jasper took Edward’s normal spot in the only armchair, forcing Edward to wedge himself between Alice and Emmett.
“What?” Rosalie grumbled as she perched on the armrest of the couch beside Emmett, “Are we having another one of those How to Respect the Telepath in Your Life meetings again?”
“No,” Edward answered, fully aware of the intent of this meeting since it hatched in Carlisle's mind two days prior. “But there’s never a bad time to bring that up. Christ, Emmett, if you’re going to have a song stuck in your head for over seventy-two hours, the least you can do is learn the correct lyrics.”
Emmett’s eyebrows knit together, asking his brother a silent question.
“It’s ‘mulatto, an albino, a mosquito, my libido,’” Edward answered.
Emmett’s brow furrowed doubtfully.
“No.” Edward shook his head, answering Emmett’s thoughts. “Why would he eat a beetle?”
Emmett grinned playfully and tilted his head towards Edward.
Edward wasn’t amused. “You know what it means.”
A silly grin plastered on his face, Emmett elbowed Edward in the ribs, silently egging him on.  
Edward’s eyes darted to Carlisle, then Esme, and he shifted in his seat. “Sexual desire,” he muttered.  
Emmett howled with laughter and clapped his hands once, “Wow, Eddie! You’re just going to say that in front of Esme!?” Edward scowled as Emmett’s bouts of laughter echoed through the room.
Esme ran a hand through her youngest’s ginger hair. “Boys,” she warned, and Emmett sucked in his laughter.
“Our meeting today has to do with all of you,” Carlisle began.
“We simply wanted to go over the rules of attending school with you kids before you start your second year at Forks High School,” Esme explained, unfolding and re-folding her hands in front of her. “There are already whispers, and we don’t want those whispers to turn into rumors.”
“I thought the only whispers about us at school were whether or not Edward liked girls,” Rosalie said, earning an eye-roll from Edward.
“No,” Alice chirped,” Some kids think we’re a cult.”
Jasper leaned back heavily in his chair. “We haven’t heard that one since the Seventies.”
“Kids are getting more creative these days.” Emmett nodded appreciatively.
Esme held up one, delicate finger. “Which is why it is best to take preventative action.”
Carlisle took the floor. “We thought a few reminders would be helpful before you started your first day of your second year,” Carlisle said. “We don’t want another incident like the one we had at the end of last year.”
Every head in the room turned towards Emmett.
“What?” Emmett threw up his hands in exasperation, “The water gun fight was the senior prank—I wasn’t the one who brought them to the school. Hell, I wasn’t even the only student who got suspended!”
“That’s true,” Carlisle agreed, “but you were the only student to shout, ‘Sit down, kids! Daddy’s gotta tinkle,’ and shoot the stream of the gun from your crotch.”
Jasper snickered—the sound was immediately silenced by a single raised eyebrow from Esme.
“I still don’t see the problem,” Emmett continued, “That’s not necessarily a vampire thing.”
Edward—who often mistook himself as the third vampire parent rather than the youngest son—sighed, “Yes, but it brings unnecessary attention to the family. Which is the first rule: do not bring attention to yourself.”
Esme ran her fingers through her son’s hair once more, “Yes, darling, you are especially good at keeping to yourself.” Edward’s eyes widened, despite Esme’s gentle touch, already aware of where her point was headed. “So much so, that I have been given the names of several child therapists to help my son through his depression. One was recommended for his exceptional work on spotting and treating the early signs of sociopathic behavior.”
Esme grabbed her son’s chin and forced him to look at her. “You have to talk to other people.”
Knocked off his high horse, Edward flinched back from Esme’s hand. “Friendship with humans never bodes well for us.”
“We’re not asking you to create lifelong friendships with humans,” Carlisle clarified, “We are simply asking you to be likable.”
“A nearly impossible feat for Edward.” Rosalie grinned. The comment went unnoticed, save Edward’s slight flinch. But the quick, little tick was satisfying enough for Rose.
“Look at your father,” Esme gestured towards Carlisle, “At every hospital he works at, he goes out of his way to ensure he is well-liked among his colleagues. He forces down countless lunches and coffees, solely to make sure they’re comfortable around him.”
Carlisle took over. “And your mother, a beloved member of her gardening club and a prized member of the PTA.”
“And neither of us have rumors started about us, and do you know why?”
All five teenagers grumbled the ingrained response. “Humans don’t want to spread rumors about people they like.”
“Exactly.” Esme nodded.
“I try!” Alice whined, “But Edward never lets me talk to any humans.”
“That’s because every, single thing that is about to come out of your mouth is incriminating. You might as well walk around with a neon sign that says, ‘I’m a psychic vampire’.”
Alice scoffed, “Is not!”
“You wanted to tell Nihal Howard not to audition for the musical.”
“And he broke his leg on opening night,” Alice challenged.  
“You were going to tell Christiana Ward that pink was not her color.”
“And she lost prom queen to Ashley Kirby.”
Jasper put a comforting hand on his wife’s knee. “Maybe try not to meddle so much, darlin’. Natural relationships, first.”
“They would have been!” Alice wailed, “I would have played it cool and casual and made friends and you all would have seen it! But everyone’s hurt and I have no friends at all because Edward won’t let me try!”
Edward rolled his eyes.
Carlisle suppressed a heavy sigh. “You have to let your sister try, Edward.”
Edward’s mouth fell open. “You cannot seriously be siding with her on this!”
But Carlisle stood his ground. He and Edward stared at one another for a few seconds, engaged in a silent conversation. In the end, Carlisle tilted his chin and Edward slumped back. Victorious, Alice used both pointer fingers to jab Edward in the side several dozen times at vampire speed.
Rosalie flipped her golden locks over her shoulder. “I don’t know how you all struggle so much. I have no issues with becoming well-liked at school while remaining inconspicuous.”
“Oh yeah, you’re so inconspicuous,” Edward grumbled, now extra-petty that he had been called out two times in one meeting. “You dress like you're on your way to brunch at your second husband’s country club in Beverly Hills and you make out with your foster brother. The perfect picture of discretion in Forks High School.”
“At least I don’t dress like a sad, old man.” Rosalie grimaced, disappointed in her comeback. The light, humorous insults that were required in family situations were Emmett’s forte; Rosalie’s insults were meant to emotionally cripple a person.
Edward sat up in his seat on the couch and turned to face Rosalie. “I think you missed the main takeaway in that you make out with your foster brother.” Edward turned back. “I can read your minds, and I still don’t understand what made either of you think it was okay to bring your relationship to school?!”
Emmett smiled, unperturbed. “It’s hot.”
“It’s disturbing,” Edward disagreed.
Esme frowned, “You kids don’t really do that, do you?”
“Would it help if Jasper and I became an official couple too?” Alice suggested.     Jasper perked up at the idea of being able to hold hands with Alice in public again.
“No!” Edward yelled at the same time Emmett and Rosalie muttered their acquiesce.
“It wouldn’t seem as weird if there were two couples,” Emmett agreed.
Edward dug his fingers through his hair. “Oh my god!”
“...maybe not, kids,” Esme intervened, but was ultimately ignored.
“So should we come out today like it happened over the summer, or make a little show out of it?” Alice asked Rosalie.
Rosalie waved a hand in the air. “Oh, it’s way more fun if you play up the theatrics.”
“A little more realistic, too,” Emmett agreed.
Alice looked to Jasper for his opinion. “It might be better if we were discreet about it,” she said. “Like we knew it was wrong, but we wouldn’t let anything stand in the way of our love.”
Jasper scooted forward to the edge of his seat. “Or we could let it be quiet and drawn out. Let others see our mutual pining, and root for us to be together.”
Gazing deep into the golden eyes of her soulmate, Alice sighed, “I love that.”
“If people wanted us to get together, it would normalize Emmett and Rosalie’s relationship.”
“Or Rosalie and Emmett could stop,” Edward suggested, bitterly. “That would be normal, too.”
“Oh, Edward,” Alice patted his shoulder, “You’ll find love someday, too.”
“That is not at all what bothers me about the situation.”
Carlisle made the decision for everyone. “Rosalie and Emmett, break up at school. Alice and Jasper, remain friends and siblings.”
Disappointment filtered into the room through Jasper.  
“I heard that,” Edward grumbled at someone’s thoughts.
“You were supposed to,” Rosalie shot back.
“We are also initiating a new rule,” Esme brought the room back to the conversation at hand, “No more correcting your teachers.”
A chorus of complaints rang from the couch.
Esme clicked her tongue, “I’m tired of defending you all from entirely preventable issues. I have emails from curious teachers wondering why my foster daughter is taking French 101, when she already appears to be fluent.” Esme looked at Rosalie, who immediately tucked her bottom lip between her teeth. “Or why my son, at the tender age of sixteen, could not only deadlift three hundred pounds in his first weightlifting class, but also give his coach tips on improving his posture.”
Emmett glanced over at Edward before he realized Esme was, in fact, addressing him. “What!?”
Jasper snorted. The sound was a mistake, for it brought Esme’s wrath onto him. “And not to mention the emails from not one, not two, but three teachers warning me that my foster son has an intimate understanding of the mechanics of a point fifty-eight caliber rifle-musket.” Esme held out her hands, almost pleadingly, “How does that subject keep coming up, Jasper?”
A noncommittal grunt was the only answer Jasper had for that question.
“No more,” she commanded. “You can get good grades but keep your extra knowledge on any subject to yourself. Whatever your teacher teaches is all you know. Understand?”
“But what if we—” Edward started.
“Understand?” Esme repeated.
The five teenage vampires understood, even if they didn’t want to. 
“I believe that all five of you will graduate from Forks High School!” Esme cheered.
The kids stared back, unable to muster the zeal Esme had over the prospect.
“Meeting adjourned!” Carlisle announced, and faster than fast vampire speed, the kids bolted from their seats. 
Esme was able to get in a few more reminders as her children flitted around the house and filed out to the silver Volvo.  “Remember to buy lunch with cash and not your credit cards. Emmett, please do not joke about being mauled by a bear. Do not address your teachers by their first names—I don’t care if you’re older than they are, Edward. Alice, please wear something a bit more causal, pet.”
When the house was finally empty, Carlisle pulled Esme backwards into his chest and began massaging her temples. The gesture wasn’t needed, but any touch from her husband was always welcome.
“Do you think they’ll listen?” she asked her husband.
“Not a chance.”
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ncitygirls · 3 years
Text
dance - jeno x f reader
fluff, smut, 2.1k
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jeno knows it’s bad, but he can’t help but reminisce on how this all began. he likes to torture himself by reliving the first night over and over. it always starts with the drunken taunts from his teammates, sullied further by his dismissal. ‘no way,’ he’d said. ‘i can’t go there.’ he remembers seeing your roommates hyping you up, followed closely by your misguided steps. even after his earlier reluctance, he still regrets not beating you to the jump, his friends’ clearing their throats, trying to act natural as you approached their booth.
he hated the setting: a grotty sports bar a town over from his college campus. it sold stale, cheap beer, triple vodka sours and served well past three am. this may not sound like the typical start to a love story, but it was a start all the same.
‘do you wanna dance?’ you asked in a painfully small voice, your emboldened strut paling in complete contrast to your timid yet gleaming gaze. jeno still can’t say where he found the courage to agree, but agree he did, nodding behind his beer before following you up to the sticky floor. somewhere along the way you had taken his hand in yours, in fear of losing him in the sea of sweaty bodies. in the musty wave of noughties hits with tacky modern spins, jeno managed to lose himself anyway. he hadn’t a clue where to put his hands, his eyes searching yours as you giggled up at him, cooing at his bewilderment.
so you led. placing his hand on your exposed waist, your top riding up as it hugged the skin beneath your rib. he felt you shiver under his touch, his fingers clenching minutely at the feeling. ‘is this okay?’ he’d yelled, though it came through as more of a whisper under the music. you didn’t respond, instead reaching for his other hand, squeezing it over the denim on your hip. jeno was spinning. not from dancing, and not from the amount he’d drank. he knew it wasn’t down to that, nor the dizzying motion of the lights, the thickness of the air or the pounding of the music. jeno knew it was you. your chest pressed flush to his, your eyes boring into his. he didn’t know when you’d started swaying, his body leaning, moving in time with the music and the others on the floor. he could hear the songs changing, feel the bass beneath his feet. there wasn’t much he could do but enjoy it.
much like he still does. as he drags you close to him, the rosie organza pleated around your chest pressed right up to his satin lapel. his confidence then pales in comparison to now. it only took a few months to see the change, one you nurtured in all the ways a man like jeno needed. in soft assurances and gentle praise. in delicate touches and the softest embraces. in ardent exchanges and steamy quickies.
but the trouble began this past winter. well, technically well before. as a child, jeno had spent his summers visiting his cousin jaemin in his hometown from before he could remember. there the two had fortified a friendship, a real brotherhood that jeno never would have gotten to experience without being cast away to the country every solstice. it was there he met his cousin’s neighbour, mark lee. mark lee, a kind kid with wide eyes and a wider smile, was the kind of kid everyone looked up to. he embodied what jeno typically thought to be an older brother. and he was. to his step sister and cousins, to kids in his neighbourhood, to jeno’s cousin jaemin and eventually to jeno. it’s why, this christmas just gone, when mark had approached jeno, with giddy eyes and a giddier smile, to ask him to be one of his groomsmen - not just due to the refusal of a painfully introverted jaemin - but because of a genuine brotherhood formed between the two, jeno’s big hearted self could not refuse.. bringing us back to where the trouble began.
‘so, are you bringing her to the wedding?’ mark questioned suddenly, his arm pushing through the sleeve of his tux. ‘you definitely shou- it’s a bit tight at the elbow, can you see?’
jeno still curses jaemin for opting out of being a groomsman, leaving jeno to deal with the trivialities of wedding prep. not that he has a real problem with it all. it’s just a fitting, he thought as he walked in, his eyes landing on the black silk hanging off the changing room door. it wasn’t until he realised it was just he and mark - the rest of the groomsmen opting to come on a later date - that he was regretting the decision. because even though no one would admit it to his face, mark was a bit of a groomzilla. less for the usual reasons. he wasn’t rude, short or angered by little inconveniences. he was just a man of superstition, faith, and insurmountable dubiety. he wanted everything to be perfect. he wanted to do as much of his part as he could for his wedding day. jeno thinks his fiancée had been right to leave him the task of the guest list. mark easily knew more people, so was naturally inundated with acquaintances. it was a great idea, jeno thought.. until mark kept- on- pushing- ‘i’ll even relieve you of your duties early, let you go off with her-’
‘thanks man,’ the younger tried, watching the tailor pinch the jacket at his waist. ‘but really, i don’t think i will. i’ll just bring my mom or something.’
‘your mom’s already invited man, you know that.’ jeno huffed at that. of course she is. mark did take his duties seriously after all. ‘couldn’t have her going off on me like jaemin did-’
‘are you comparing my mom to jaemin?’
‘i’m just saying-’ mark paused to thank the attendant, slipping back out of his jacket as he walked up to jeno, squeezing his shoulder. ‘you’ve got nothing to be nervous about, jen. you’re like a brother to me. you should bring her, i’d love to meet her.’
jeno flinches just thinking about it, his spine straightening as mark turned to him fully. jeno manages a shrug, turning back to the mirror just for a second before deciding that, no. no, it wouldn’t be a good idea to introduce his girl to his best friend on his wedding day.
because the issue wasn’t that he wouldn’t invite you.
‘you met her at college, right?’
the issue was that he couldn’t.
‘maybe y/n knows her?’
the issue is that you’re already going.
‘you know what my sister’s like, she gets on with everyone.’
“jen?” you pant, his name falling off your tongue as he bounces you quickly in his lap. “come back to me.” he smiles at your sweet call, your teeth catching his lip between them before slipping your tongue into his mouth.
the ceremony starts in ten minutes, though guests are still pouring into the church. it’s what actually convinced him. that and you, your manicured hand stuffing your damp panties into the pocket of his fitted tux. it had been his undoing, your sweeping frame gliding into a small side door a few feet from the altar.
the clock is ticking but you pay it no mind, your hips halting their rise and fall as you dig your heels into the masoned floor, grinding your hips back and forth as you ride him. you feel his nails dig painfully into your skin, his tongue wrapping around yours, swallowing your gasps as his other hand gathers your dress, the layers of delicate organza billowing over his knee. when your nails find his nape, careful not to mess up his perfectly styled do, you suck on his ear lobe, forcing him to thrust up into you.
“fuck-”
“shh!” you hiss, rushing to stuff the same panties you gifted him in his mouth. you hear his muffled groans, his cheeks hollowing as he sucks the essence of you onto his waiting tongue. he feels you clench harder around him, his eyes smiling in place of his occupied lips. he lifts a brow when your rocking falters, your eyes darting around his perfect face, incapable of taking in anything but him and how he makes you feel. there’s a question in his gaze, forcing your head to bob. “yeah- i’m close-”
he abandons your dress then, letting the material pool around you two as he presses his palm to your neck, bringing your mouth to his. it’s a quick and steep descent to your release, your thighs burning as he slams you up and down on his cock, your skin clapping against his as he abandons all reason. he’s kept it quiet for so long, at times he thinks it might consume him from the inside out, all this love he has for you. all jeno really wants is to scream it out from the highest mountain top, tattoo it to his forehead, paint it on the fucking moon. hell, he would pay anyone to listen. he didn’t care who. he’d tell anyone who’d listen that he, lee jeno, was in love with y/n y/l/n.
“i love you too,” you almost cry, jaw unhinged as you feel the effects of his thrusts and affection rip through you. it spreads through you like wildfire, setting every nerve in you alight before it finally consumes him. your heat pumps and pushes him past his release, his heavy load pouring out into you. you milk him through it, your temple pressed to the crown of his head.
it’s the church bells that rip you apart, your whole body cringing as realisation hits. you cringe further as his flushed face fills your vision, his hands gathering your dress again before further staining your panties as he wipes between your legs. “don’t look at me like that.”
“like what?”
“like it’s worse for you than it is for me.” you’re about to ask how when he moves away from you, closing his eyes as he wraps it up before shoving it back in his pocket. “i said don’t.”
“fine, i won’t-” your surrender is cut short when knuckles strike the door three times, jaemin’s sign to wrap it up. “shit, let’s go-” you try to leave but can’t. because suddenly he’s stopping you, his warm hand loosely wrapped around your wrist.
“let’s tell him.”
“tell who what-”
“mark.” jeno used to hate acknowledging the striking similarities between you and your step brother. much like the unwon battle of the chicken and the egg: which came first? which of you taught the other that when your eyes enlarge, rounding into porcelain saucers, two full moons nearly eclipsing him, that he’d give you anything?
“today?” when he nods, you want to laugh. but he looks so confident. so sure. “jen, are you sure?”
“i am,” his affirmation makes your heart swell, even before he continues. “i’m sure about you.”
he knows where your uncertainties lie. but you affirm it too. “i’m sure about you too.” you both seem to forget the wedding in that moment, both neglecting the importance of your bridal party roles in favour of basking in one another for even a second longer. “only if you save me a dance?”
“always.” so much so, you don’t register the sound of the confessional door swinging open when jeno leans in to kiss to your forehead, his bitten lips pressing to the skin as his eyes land on a pair not too dissimilar to the ones he’d just poured his heart out to.
mark seems to short circuit for a second that seems to last hours. “mom’s looking for you,” he announces, spluttering around the words as you immediately grab jeno by the hand and drag him out the confessional. you both duck your heads as you shuffle past jaemin, who looks beyond pissed you didn’t heed his earlier warning.
when you both disappear, your brother turns on jaemin, eyes wide as full moons. “you knew!” it only angers him more when jaemin nods, unflinching when mark starts slapping his arm. “he told you and you didn’t tell me?”
“nuh-uh,” the younger defends, straightening out the groom’s lapel as he reverently shuts the confessional door. “i figured it out.” mark looks bewildered at the notion it had been so obvious. jaemin has to remind himself it’s mark’s day and not to be too harsh. “come on, hyung. he wouldn’t tell us her name, wouldn’t let us meet her.” mark still looks stunned. “don’t get me started on how many times they pulled this shit last christmas-”
and to think. it all started with a dance.
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ptergwen · 3 years
Note
Hi val! Got a request, it's okay if you don't wanna write it, but can you write about peter telling the reader he's going on a huge mission and he's excited about it but the reader is so worried they end up arguing? But when peter gets back from mission all bruised, the reader is still upset but dresses his wound anyway and it ends up with fluff??
abort mission
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w/c: 2.4k
warnings: mentions of blood, swearing, and angst
a/n: woah woah woah i ended up writing way more than i expected but i loved this request so much :,) i hope you do too
-
“we’re staying in this, like, super fancy castle while we’re there. it’s gonna be awesome,” peter rambles to you. he takes all the clean shirts in his drawer and throws them into a suitcase.
he’s packing for a mission in europe with the avengers, and you’re here to say goodbye. you’ve been pretty quiet while peter gives you as many details as he’s allowed to. it’s always an honor when the team invites him on. he gets so stoked about it. you’re happy he’s happy and gets to pursue his passion, but you’ve noticed a pattern.
every time peter leaves the country with earth’s mightiest heroes, he comes back in worse condition than the last. it seems like they protect everyone except peter. he’s oblivious to the fact that the end result is always his suffering. he’s just glad to be there. really, he gets nothing in return except scars that never heal, not even a permanent spot on the team. 
so, you’re not thrilled he agreed to go.
“plus, i get to miss two weeks of school.” peter beams, getting onto his knees to zip the suitcase. “feels like a vacation almost.” “you like school, though,” you remind him. you’re sat at the edge of his bed while you watch, rather than help. he hops up again with a shrug. “i like vacations more.” “it’s not a vacation,” you mutter to yourself, then speak up.
“how are you gonna catch up? that’s a lot of missing assignments.” with that same innocent smile, peter walks over to you. he grabs both your hands and laces your fingers together. “i’m a fast learner. besides, ned said he’d help me.” you sigh, looking down at the floor so you don’t have to look at peter. “or, you could. make it into a little study date when i get back,” he suggests while playing with your fingers.
“i don’t even want you to go,” you finally admit and meet his sparkling eyes. nothing could ever dull them. “why not? you’re gonna miss me?” peter teases, pressing a couple of kisses to your palm. “you don’t have to. i’m pretty sure france has wifi.” he wiggles his eyebrows. “oui oui, mademoiselle, eh?” despite yourself, you giggle at his french accent and tug on his hands. he sits down next to you with a chuckle.
“nat has been giving me lessons,” peter explains, you quirking an eyebrow. “she speaks french?” “she speaks a lot of languages, actually. she’s so cool.” peter scoots closer to you and sets his hands on your waist, his voice dropping. “you’d love her.” your face twists up in confusion at the idea.
you don’t have anything against the avengers, obviously. they’re good people. you’re just not the biggest fan of them at the moment, considering the circumstances they’ve put peter under.
“peter, i don’t want you to go,” you repeat more seriously than before. your teeth sink into your lower lip. “and, it’s not because i’ll miss you.” “none taken,” peter jokes, implying there should’ve been a no offense. he then realizes how distressed you look, so he cuts it out. “sorry, sorry. i’m done now. how come?”
you take his hand again and hold it tight. “what if you get hurt?” you ask in the nicest way possible, out of care. “i don’t wanna see you hurting, pete. this mission sounds really... dangerous.” he runs his thumb over the back of your hand, his grin faltering a bit. “it is, but i’m ready for it. i’ll be fine.”
you’re not convinced yet. that line he likes to overuse isn’t enough to do the trick.
his eyes searching for yours, peter brushes a piece of your hair back. “have a little faith in me, babe.” “no, i... i do. i have the most faith in you, peter.” you find yourself frowning as he twirls your locks around his finger. “that’s not the problem.” peter’s voice becomes a whisper. “what is it, then? talk to me.”
you do the opposite because you’re afraid you’ll upset him further, which is the last thing he needs right now. your silence prompts peter to fill it. “would it make you feel better if i say mr. stark is keeping an eye on me?” he’s smiling sheepishly, you scoffing. “oh, like he kept an eye on you in amsterdam?”
the only eye related activity that happened there was peter almost losing one of his. he’d come back with an eyepatch and couldn’t see out of it for over a month. to this day, there’s still a bit of blood in it when you look close enough.
“i already told you, that was my fault,” peter grumbles, turning so he faces forward. “i didn’t listen to him-“ “who gives a shit? he’s the one who put you in that situation!” you blurt out. you’ve been way too patient this whole time, and now you’re reaching your breaking point. “you say that like i didn’t wanna be there.” peter clenches his jaw, still mostly calm.
“either way, mr. stark,” you mock what peter always calls him, “was supposed to keep you safe, and he didn’t. i’m scared it’s gonna happen again.” letting out a noise close to a growl, peter stands up from the bed. “you’re not listening to me, y/n. everything was fine. i just-“ you’re not in the mood to hear him make excuses, so you interrupt.
“do you know any other sixteen year olds who fight literal terrorists on their free time?” you rhetorically ask and get to your own feet. peter tries to walk away from you, only you follow him. “you’re a kid, peter, in case you forgot.” he spins around to give you a nasty look. “do you know any other sixteen year olds who stick to fucking walls?”
your heart starts to race from his sudden outburst. he’s scary when he’s mad, and he almost never gets mad at you. all you can do is blink dumbly. “didn’t think so,” peter spits. “this is what i’m supposed to do, help people. is that so wrong?” his breathing becomes ragged as his anger grows.
“what about you? are you helping yourself?” you speak softly, expecting an answer this time. “you’re not my fucking therapist, y/n,” he deflects the question. “i am your girlfriend, though. i care about you so much, you know that.” eyebrows furrowed in concern, you reach out for peter. he takes a step back. it doesn’t take long for tears to cloud your vision.
“i was excited to share this with you, and i thought you’d be happy for me.” peter balls his hands into fists at his sides. his voice stays low. “instead, you made it all about yourself. you can never let me enjoy team stuff.” you’re speechless, peter nodding as he lets his words sit. “thanks for the support.”
“you’re an asshole,” you laugh out bitterly and wipe under your eyes.
he didn’t mean to make you cry. he was so caught up in himself, he didn’t realize you were.
peter’s whole demeanor changes. “y/n, baby...” he attempts to put a hand on your cheek, but you hit it away. “get off of me. what did i just say?” you sniffle, your tone harsh in contrast. “you’re an asshole, peter.” he changes his mind about feeling bad. you’ve berated him way more than he did you, anyway.
“you should go. i have to be up early,” peter decides, even though he’d said you could stay the night. whatever, you don’t want to anymore. “fine,” you agree shortly. “i’m leaving.” he stands there while you collect your things, shoving them into your bag. you’re going slow enough so he has a chance to stop you. he doesn’t.
you pass by him on your way to his door, sucking in a breath. here’s your official goodbye. “see you later, peter. don’t die.” “mhm, i won’t,” he replies, his tongue poking at his cheek. with one more shared look between you two, you make your grand exit, no doubt informing may of her nephew’s behavior before you’re gone.
peter immediately regrets the way he talked to you, and that you’re leaving things like this. you were only trying to protect him. you’ll never be able to save the city like he does, so this is how you do it. he truly is an asshole for not seeing that.
frustration consuming him, peter kicks over his fully stuffed suitcase, its contents spilling out. he grits his teeth.
“fan-fucking-tastic.”
-
you don’t talk to peter the whole two weeks he’s gone except for some are you alive and yes texts. he’d called you quite a few times, and was sent to voicemail for all of them. he gave you the benefit of the doubt because of timezones.
it was actually because you declined, which peter knew deep down was the real reason.
he’s coming home from his mission today. you’re not sure when or if he plans on dropping by. you’re not sure you’d like him to, either. you don’t really get a choice in the end.
there’s a series of knocks at your window, at some ungodly time in the night. you’re all too familiar with this routine. it’s peter.
you slip out from under your covers, a scowl already painting your face as you go to the window. surely enough, peter is perched in front of it, clad in red and black. the suit must be new because you’ve never seen it. you push up the window and step aside so he can get through.
“thanks,” peter mumbles, climbing into your room less gracefully than usual. he’s sort of wobbly when he lands. “yeah,” you dully acknowledge. “how was france?” “uh, good. you know, lots of cheese and all that.” his voice is muffled from his mask, since he hasn’t taken it off yet. that’s odd. “i was talking about the mission, but cool,” you almost laugh back.
“the mission was... fine,” peter clarifies and scratches the back of his neck. he never describes something as simply being ‘fine.’ when the boy talks, he lectures. you’re starting to get worried. “that’s good. at least you didn’t die, right?” you say to lighten the mood. peter awkwardly chuckles. “haha, yeah. thank god for that.”
you hum and walk over to sit on your bed, peter staying where he is. “what time did you get back?” you wonder, a completely harmless question. “um, this morning,” he says in response, raising your suspicions. “why’re you still in the suit, then?” you squint at him. “i like it, by the way.” “thanks, y/n/n. i, uh,” peter trails off, no good explanations coming to mind.
you’re quickly developing a hunch for what what down. you wordlessly get up again, meeting peter by your window. he’s nervous to see what happens next. peter’s shoulders slump when your fingers land on his mask. you carefully lift it, revealing his face to you. his banged up, bloody face.
“surprise.” peter musters up a grin, you tossing the mask at his chest. you’re beyond angry now. it’s not at him, athough it is at his injuries. “please don’t be mad,” he nearly begs, you shaking your head. you go to leave your room for some space. peter’s fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling you back. “i should’ve listened to you, okay? i’m sorry,” he genuinely apologizes.
you still don’t say anything while you look over his beaten body. there’s a gash with stitches in it on his chin, a deep slice across the bridge of his nose, cuts littering his cheeks. he’s even got a busted lip for good measure. this might be the worst condition he’s let you see him in.
“you were right, y/n. i think... i think i’m gonna sit the next one out. it’s too much for me, clearly,” peter continues, fingers sliding down to lock with yours. “you should say you told me so.” “how... how did this happen?” you manage to get out instead. “the bad guy fought me,” he says with the hint of a smirk. “i won, though.”
it’s a relief that he’s handling this so well, even earning a laugh from you. that puts you more at ease.
“this is probably a dumb question, but are you okay?” you brush your thumb over peter’s cheekbone gently, avoiding his scratches. “not really. my face hurts a lot, and flash is gonna tease the hell out of me on monday.” his lips form a line, arms looping around your waist. it’s very much welcomed by you.
“you just spent two weeks trying not to die, and you’re worried about flash?” you snicker and draw a heart on his skin. peter shrugs a shoulder. “he’s so mean to me.” he brings you in closer to him. “besides, this is the normal kid stuff i should be focusing on.” you’re glad he finally came to terms with that. you’ve been saying it for the longest time.
you smile wickedly at him. “exactly. so is all that homework you have to make up.” peter lets out a breathy laugh, you laying your head on his chest. “i missed you,” he tells you quietly. “really wish i could kiss you right now.” “i missed you too, pete. so much,” you murmur into him. your hands settle on his biceps. “and, i forgive you.” “thanks, baby,” peter exhales.
“of course. once your lips are healed,” you pull back from his chest, making a kissing noise. “pucker up, lover- oh my god.” you’re looking up at him with wild eyes. peter gets reasonably startled from it. “what? what’s wrong?” “you... you’re bleeding!” you point at his stitches. he winces, touching the spot. there’s blood, alright.
“crap. do you have a bandaid or something?” peter gives you an apologetic smile. “mr. stark said i should cover them when this happens.” maybe, tony isn’t so bad after all. you nod and take him by his hand. “yeah, in the bathroom. come with me.”
peter sits on the edge of your bathtub while you patch up his chin. he tells you more about the fun parts of his mission, you placing the cinderella bandaid over his gash. you have those from a while ago and also regular ones. however, he preferred the princess design.
“you saw the real mona lisa? like, in person? that’s insane.” you grin, smoothing down peter’s bandaid one last time. “yeah, she’s even prettier up close.” peter returns the smile. “thanks for taking care of me, y/n. i swear i don’t deserve you sometimes.” now pouting at him, you crouch down so you’re at his level. “it’s the other way around, peter.”
“let’s just agree to disagree,” he concludes and tucks a stray hair behind your ear. “i love you, okay?” “i love you, too.” you press a light kiss to his bandaid, getting a giggle from peter.
yeah, it’s going to be hell finding replacements for his lips.
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httpdabi · 3 years
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Strawberry
Genre: smut, romance? Idk?
Summary: The reunion with your childhood best friend took some turns, and instead of hugs and tears all you wanted to do was kill the familiar stranger, that made your day at work worse.
(Ye, I suck at describing lmao)
Word count: 6.7k
Warnings: 18+ (MINORS DNI), unprotected sex, dom!Dabi, creampie, a bit of dacryphilia, a bit of teasing, rough sex, choking, facefucking.
,,Girl, just hop into the water’’ Mina screamed, taking all the attention you were giving to your phone. You were already regretting the decision you made to join her and Bakugo. You’ve never liked those public pools, and you never understand people who did. Like seriously, children there pee in the water, some of them even poop, who knows ? And its not that you are some hygiene freak, it’s simply a no go for you.
,, Nah, I’m good over here’’ You screamed back, hoping she heard you, as you hid under the shadow of the tree. Sun was also a big minus for you, since 10 minutes were enough for you to get sunburnt and end up with Yoghurt all over your body trying to pamper the burning stings. Plus your pierced nipples didn’t help in this case either, heating up too fast in the sun, since the only peace of clothing that covered them was your swimming suit.
,, You are no fun’’ she pouted, hoping her puppy face will work on you.
Usually on your days off, you liked to enjoy your time at home, reading a nice book or simply lazing around watching a movie, cooking for yourself, and doing simply anything that didn’t include contact with others. Yeah, you had enough contact with people since you were working at the famous café in the city.
People who saw you working there thought that you loved your job. Always smiling, always having so much patience. Truth to be told, you were exactly the opposite. You hate it wholeheartedly. You couldn’t deal with children screaming around all the time, while their parents ignored them, you couldn’t deal with drunk dudes, cat calling you all the time, and you couldn’t deal with rude costumers always complaining about something. Fuck it, you couldn’t deal with anyone.
You felt more than happy once the day came to an end and once you waved goodbye to your co-workers. Nothing against them of course, you loved Mina and Bakugo, but sun, water and loud crowd of people drained your energy out. At that point you found yourself appreciating your apartment and your bed more then ever before.
The next day you woke up pretty late, since you had late shift. Not that you were complaining, you liked sleeping longer, but the fact that you will be working till fucking 10 PM, if not even longer since it was summer, was driving you insane.
Sure waking up early isn’t amazing, but in the morning there wasn’t that much work, and it was much more quiet then in late shift. And sure, some people would consider calling sick, but you didn’t want to be such an asshole toward your co-workers.
Since you will be the one getting the orders on the counter and maybe, only maybe work with ice cream, you decided to wear your favorite comfy skirt, not too long, but also covering everything up. Once you found your fav comfy shirt, you tucked it inside of your skirt and did your casual make up before you left your apartment.
You didn’t like your work, but you were thankful that you could at least get a free meal there, since it saved a lot of time for you. It wasn’t anything special, but at least you didn’t have to prepare anything or stop to buy something before work.
,, DROP THE BEAT’’ Bakugo yelled once he saw you coming, making some weird noises as you gave your best to give them a Top Model walk.
,, TC, TC, TC’’ you repeated, waving your hips from side to side in the beat with the weird sound you and Bakugo made. You hopped beside them, as you took the small pack of cigarettes out of your bag.
Usually after the end of the morning shift, you and your co-workers sit together, enjoying the last minute of the shift exchange together. Of course if there’s a new costumer, one of you would go to work immediately. But most of the time, the café was almost empty at that time, giving you a chance to catch up a bit.
,, Today was pain in the ass, I swear’’ Shiggy said, taking one cigarette out of your package, while Bakugo told you everything you needed to know, if there was something to do and so on. Nodding your head, you lit a cigarette for yourself, preparing yourself for one hell of annoying day that was waiting for you.
Once Bakugo and Shiggy went home, you made your way toward the small counter, preparing everything you needed for the late shift, as you waited for Mina to arrive. You were glad that there weren’t any new costumers, since it gave you lots of time to prepare everything, from ice cream, to sandwiches and drinks.
,, Hiii girl, sorry for being late’’ Mina greeted you happily, while you placed the new drinks into the fridge. It wasn’t anything new for you, she was always late, but you never minded it at all. Your team had some up’s and down’s, but after all, all of you worked great together.
Around 7PM you wished you never got that fucking job. The café was getting fuller and fuller, and people were getting more and more annoying.
,, Can you please serve that table ?’’ Mina asked, pointing on the table where some boys were sitting down. Nodding your head, you took the small notebook and pen, before you made your way towards the table you had to serve.
,, Heyy, what can I do for you?’’ you asked, acting all happy as you prepared the small notebook to write the order.
,, Well, you can blow me off if you are asking that nicely’’ one of them said, making the rest of the boys laugh loudly. Taking one deep breath, you almost rolled your eyes in annoyance.
,, Can I take your order ?’’ you repeated yourself, ignoring the rude comments they gave you, talking about your skirt and how you looked, like you weren’t standing right in front of them.
,, Five beers. Sorry, they really don’t know how to behave’’ one of them, mature enough, said. Giving you one small and apologetic smile. Nodding your head, you just hurried back, wanting to finish their order fast enough, before you did something you would regret later.
Once you bought them their beer, and once they gave you the money, you almost smacked the bottle against the blondies head, when he started checking you out shamelessly. What pissed you even more was the fact that the line waiting for fucking ice cream was already waiting for you.
The whole day was a complete disaster and you wished more then ever to finish your shift and leave the fucking café. At least you had Mina by your side, as the two of you gave each other encouraging words.
,, What can I get for you?’’ you asked, faking a smile at the woman with a child. You were so done with that fucking job, but you couldn’t let the costumers figure that out.
,, Honey, what do you want?’’ she asked her child, as she prepared her wallet. The fact that she was waiting for you to come, and than ask her child what she wants was lowkey pissing you off. They could literally decide before you arrived, but whatever.
,, I want vanilla… Hmmmm, I want mint and strawberry!’’ the little girl screamed excitedly, as you prepared the cone, already putting the vanilla ice cream in it.
,, I’m sorry, we are out of Strawberry ice cream’’ you said, giving her a small smile, as the child started screaming and crying around how she wants strawberry. You had to give your best and stop yourself from throwing the cone against the child’s face. That little girl was old enough to understand what a no means.
,, Sorry sweetie, do you want anything else?’’ you asked, hoping she’ll stop with the whole theater.
,, Noooo I want strawberry’’ she screamed, crying loudly.
,, Just give her raspberry’’ the woman said, rolling her eyes in annoyance like it was your fault that you were out of the strawberry ice cream. Mina noticed that your blood was already boiling, as she asked you if you need some help. Once she heard you saying how everything’s fine, she continued with her work.
NOTHING WAS FINE FOR FUCKS SAKE, NOTHING.
,, What can I get you?’’ you repeated the same question, as a guy approached, holding his phone in his right hand. You looked at him, giving him one fake smile, as you analyzed his face. Black hair, scarred face, few tattoos and lots of piercings. His appearance was pretty much freaking you out, but you had to stay professional and just wait for his order.
,, Hey, strawberry and chocolate’’ he said, casually scrolling the screen of his phone with his thumb. The moment you heard him say strawberry you wanted to quit that fucking job and just move to Poland or whichever country.
,, We are out of strawberry, sorry’’ you breathed out, hoping that the last cell in your brain didn’t die at that moment.
,,Oh ok, then only strawberry is fine’’ he said, giving you a small smile. At that moment you were more then sure that he was making fun of you, even a deaf person was able to catch up that strawberry wasn’t an option anymore after that stupid child made a scene. And that’s when you finally snapped, having enough of everyone’s shit.
,, Which part of we are out of strawberry you didn’t understand?’’ you asked, slamming the cone onto the counter, almost regretting your actions. But once you noticed the way he was trying not to laugh made you snap even more.
,, Are you making fun of me ? Is this funny to you ?’’ your voice was raising with every word you spoke. Once Mina realized that you were having your half mental breakdown, screaming at costumer, she hurried toward you, repeating your name all over again as she tired to catch your attention.
Hearing your name, his eyes widened in surprise, now totally focused on you instead of his cellphone and if Mina wasn’t there, you would probably start a bitch fight with him for even looking at you that way.
,, Woah, what’s going on? ‘’ she asked confused, as you gave the dude death glares.
,,This guy here is going on. He’ll be my 13th reason why’’ you screamed waving your hands in air, not even trying to calm down anymore.
,, Chill out, we only have 30 minutes more till we close’’ she said, patting your back slowly, as she mouthed small sorry to the guy.
,, Oh, 30 minutes ? We’re out of the ice cream’’ you hissed, slamming the glass down, giving him a clear sign that he won’t lick shit tonight. If your boss heard and saw you at that moment, you would be fired in just a second.
After 20 minutes, the two of you happily told the costumers that they have to leave. Before you could leave, you took two corona tests, already working on your own test as Mina went to the toilet to change.
,, OH MY GOD, YOU’RE PREGNANT’’ she screamed, placing one hand over her mouth.
,, Bitch, this is corona test’’ you hissed, loud laugh following your words. ,, And it’s only one line, which means that I’m negative. What the fuck’’ you laughed, placing one test in front of her, thinking about where the fuck did she get all her informations from, since she thought that one line means pregnant. Ignoring the fact that she thought that corona test is fucking pregnancy test.
,, You really overacted today, maybe he didn’t hear’’ she said, as you puffed onto your cigarette.
,, Girl, even my grandma from nursing home could hear that we were out of strawberry, and trust me her hearing aids ain’t worth shit’’ you rolled your eyes, making Mina giggle quietly.
,, But still, he might tell to boss, you don’t know that guy’’ she whispered, as you watched the guy sitting on the bench with his friends. She had a point sadly, he did look like someone who would cause trouble just for fun.
,, You’re right, I’ll go and apologize’’ you said once you saw him wave goodbye to his friends. Taking one deep breath you hugged Mina, before you forced yourself to walk fast enough to catch up with him.
,, Hey’’ you screamed, almost running behind him, hoping he actually heard you. Once he turned around, giving you one hella confusing look, you sighed in relief, placing both of your hands on your knees as you tried to catch your breath.
,, Wow, such a sporty spirit’’ he joked as he watched you fight for air.
,, Yeah, oh my god. I just wanted to apologize for what happened earlier’’ you managed to say somehow, ignoring his comments.
,, Yeah, that wasn’t very nice of you’’ he pointed, taking one cigarette and placing it between his lips. ,,I was ready to write a review on google about the way you treated me’’ he joked once again, but you completely misunderstood it.
,,I KNEW IT, I FUCKING KNEW IT’’ you screamed, pointing your finger in his direction. ,, Look man, I already hate my job, don’t make it any worse’’ you whined loudly, not getting the irony in his voice.
,, Well, let me treat you with dinner, what do you think? And then I’ll think about the review’’ he smiled, using the way you misunderstood his words in his advantage. Once you heard him say that, you definitely regretted the way you acted one hour ago.
,, That won’t work, I have a cat waiting for me home and trust me, he ain’t capable feeding himself on his own’’ you spat, hoping he’ll understand and simply leave you alone, but once you saw him raise his eyebrow at you and giving you one questioning look, you almost rolled your eyes on him.
,, but you can come with me and we can order fucking tacos or whatever’’ you added, surprised that you went that far and disappointed once he accepted your invite.
,,Taquitoooo, I’m home babyyyy’’ you screamed, kicking your shoes as you got inside your apartment. Turning around you found the tall man looking around, analyzing every corner of your apartment.
,, Taquito? You’ve gotta be kidding me’’ he laughed at you. Even tho you just met the guy, it felt like you knew him for ages for some weird reason.
He sat outside on the balcony, as you prepared the two glasses and drinks for the two of you, while he ordered some food.
,, Anyway, what’s your name ?’’ you asked, remembering that you don’t know shit about the man sitting in your apartment.
,,Ah yes, I totally forget that, the name is Dabi’’ he grinned, taking the glass away from you, as he made himself at home.
,, Why the fuck did you call your cat Taquito?’’ he asked, as your cat jumped onto his lap, purring softly, making you just stare at them surprisingly. Taquito didn’t even like your family and friends, yet he was all cuddly with some fucking stranger.
,, Yeah long story short, I was drunk as fuck, found him on the street while I watched the stupid Tiktok about a girl that bought a turtle and called it Taquito’’ you said fast, as you sat there waiting for the food. Once you had a good look of him, something felt off. Nothing weird or scary, but you only felt like you already knew him. Sure, you definitely wouldn’t forget a face like his, but something about his eyes was telling you that you met him somewhere.
,, Anyway, enough about my cat. Did we meet somewhere?’’ you asked, staring at him shamelessly as he played with Taquito.
,, Maybe ?’’ he said, wiggling his eyebrows at you.
,, Cut it. Your eyes are familiar. I swear, I feel like I know you from somewhere ‘’ you confessed, placing a finger on your lip, as you tried to figure out from where you know him.
,, Yeah, I have such a pretty eyes, don’t I’’ he said, blinking fast as he tried to give some weird effect with it.
,, You can’t be that stupid doll’’ he added, when he realized that you still can’t remember him. Sure he changed, sure he went thru some shit and ended up with scars, and sureee he colored his hair black, but still he felt a bit disappointed when he realized that you have no idea who he is.
,, Does a name Touya tell you anything ?’’ he asked, raising his eyebrow at you playfully, laughing loudly at your confused face.
,, Nah, go fuck with someone else, that can’t be true’’ you hissed, crossing your arms on your chest. If you saw Touya, you would remember him, your childhood best friend.
,, Monday, 2PM, old tree house?’’ he said, almost asked about something only the two of you knew, trying not to laugh at your shocked expression.
,, It can’t be’’ you gasped, eyes wide enough, almost popping out of your skull. ,, YOU PIECE OF SHIT WHY DIDN’T YOU CONTACT ME?’’ you screamed jumping suddenly, making Taquito run form his lap, scared from your sudden reaction.
,, Honestly, I forgot what your last name was, so I couldn’t find you anywhere’’ he admitted, happy you finally remembered him. Sure he didn’t recognize you at first either, but once he heard your co worker calling you by your name, he immediately figured everything out, and understood why you seemed so familiar.
,, Are you serious ? And what kind of reunion was that ? I was ready to choke you with a fucking ice cream cone’’ you laughed, still not believing that the stranger sitting in front of you was no one else than fucking Touya Todoroki, the best friend you once had that left you behind and went overseas.
,, Yeah that was one iconic reunion if you ask me’’ he laughed out, thinking about the way you acted few hours ago.
The two of you talked about everything possible, about his life overseas, about the past, your shitty job, your cat and his dislike on every living being. Once it was too late, he wanted to leave, but you simply couldn’t let him go home at such a late hour, since people at the city were pretty weird and the city isn’t the quiet and safe one and after a long time of your insisting he finally agreed.
When you woke up, Touya was nowhere to be found, but he did leave a small piece of paper, with a number and apology written on it. You grinned to yourself, as you hurried to get ready for your work, since you stood up too late.
The day was much better than the last one, only instead of Mina who always managed to calm you down, you had Bakugo who was even more aggressive then you are by your side. You had the same task as last night, but once you saw Touya and his group of friends making themselves comfortable at one of the tables in the corner, you told Bakugo that you’ll take their order.
,, hayyy, alredy know your order ?’’ you asked excitedly placing your hands on Touya’s shoulders from behind, the smile on your face being honest for a change.
,, My girllll, why didn’t you text me ?’’ he whined, as he grabbed your hands and pulled you down, forcing you to hug him.
,, Didn’t the two of you have a huge fight last night because of strawberry ice cream?’’ one of his friends asked, totally confused.
,, We talked it out’’ you laughed, as he placed a small kiss on your cheek, before you finally took their order, almost forgetting you are at work.
If you were being honest, the whole shift was better with him and Bakugo who was cursing every second costumer around. Almost every 15 minutes Touya would end up at the counter, asking for a strawberry ice cream. Every time you would tell him that you are out of it, he would simply ask for the Book of complaints, making you roll your eyes playfully at him.
You were surprised when you noticed that he was actually waiting for you, laughing loudly when Bakugo commented how this whole romantic shit is making him sick.
The next few days the two of you spend way too much together, and first time in forever you actually liked having someone around. Every day he would drop by at your work, and wait till you are done and then the two of you would go home and have a late dinner, while he had cuddle season with Taquito.
On Saturday, you were looking for excuses to call sick, and once Mina told you that the only person who would be forced to jump in was no one else than Rumi, you immediately called them, acting all sick and everything.
After you called, you gave yourself one good deserved nap, not feeling bad anymore since Rumi was the co-worker no one liked.
The loud knocks at your door woke you up, grabbing your phone your eyes widened in shock once you realized that you slept almost the whole day. Rubbing your eyes, you rushed to open the damn door.
,, What the fuck?’’ Touya hissed, once he saw you healthy and alive standing there in nothing but oversized shirt.
,, what? I overslept a bit’’ you gave him a weak smile, as you let him in. You were surprised yourself that you slept that long, but you totally deserved it.
,, I swear, once your co worker told me you’re sick, I thought you died or something’’ he added, following you inside.
,, Yeah, I just needed some rest’’ you laughed, hoping he’ll chill the fuck out. Thankfully he calmed down real fast, almost forgetting about all the worry he had once he saw you all healthy, and once he saw Taquito running happily to him.
There was something comforting in having Touya around again. Somehow it made you feel like a child again, and the fact that he’s staying this time, for real, made your heart skip a beat for some weird reason. He was all the time around, at your work waiting for you, giving you a ride back home or walking you back home, dropping by on your days off with your favorite snacks and so on. Usually you wouldn’t like it, but since it was him, you embraced the affection he was giving you wholeheartedly.
You even became a laughing stick at your work, as your co-workers always made jokes about your new lover boy. Especially Mina and Bakugo, turning every conversation into Touya related one.
Making the drinks some costumers ordered, a yawn escaped your lips. Still sleepy as fuck, you somehow managed to put your attention on your work instead of the lack of sleep.
,, So, how was the date last night ? What did you two do ?’’ you asked, remembering that Bakugo met some girl he liked so much last night.
,, See when two people come together, they perform an intimate act called getting fucking railed’’ Bakugo said, trying to sound as romantic as possible.
,, You’re disgusting’’ you gasped, throwing the small sponge at him, as he laughed loudly, making his way to the costumer that just got in.
You were completely focused on your work, until Bakugo told you that your lover boy is there, and he’ll be the one to get his order. Rolling your eyes, you just let him do it, as you continued with the work you already did.
Bakugo was much louder than usually, probably because his little date went good, singing around you and joking around every now and then. Not that it bothered you, in fact, you were so glad that he showed his unusual side that day, since he’s grumpy and mad almost all the time.
,, I swear the headache is killing me today’’ you whined loudly, hopping beside Touya once you got the chance. You took one cigarette from him, and lit it up, enjoying the peace with almost no costumers around.
,, You seem pretty close with that guy’’ Touya said, also taking one cigarette.
,, Huh? You mean Bakugo?’’ you asked and he simply nodded his head, not taking his eyes from the spiky haired guy. ,, Yeah, we are pretty close’’ you added, puffing onto your cigarette.
,, You like him ?’’ Touya’s eyes met yours, making you feel a bit uneasy with his sudden behavior.
,, No, we are literally only friends and he’s much younger, wait, why ?’’ you were too confused, finding it hard to proceed the whole situation. Changing the topic, he simply asked what you wanna do after work, acting as nothing happened at all.
,, So, that Bakugo guy, he has a girlfriend ?’’ Touya asked, as the two of you made your way to the nearest store.
,, At this point I’m not sure if you are interested in me or Bakugo’’ you joked, dragging your feet lazily.
,, In you, obviously’’
After that day Touya was giving his best to show you how he felt, he was giving his best to show everyone to who you belong. Being a little too touchy in front of his friends and your co workers, in a way that seemed innocent to you, yet clear to everyone else. Small kisses he usually placed on your cheeks, were getting closer and closer to your lips. The hand he usually places around your shoulders, was getting lower and lower.
Even when he comes over, he was using every little chance he had to touch you, using everything you liked into his advantage. He knew how much you loved when someone caressed you, and he did it more than gladly for you. Tracing his fingers against your soft skin, starting with your arms, only to end up with his hand under your shirt, caressing your back slowly, until you would end up falling asleep in his arms.
,, What do you want to watch ?’’ you asked, placing the bowl of popcorn onto the table, while Touya waited for you patiently on you couch. The weather was perfect for nothing else than a lazy movie evening.
Hopping next to him, you made yourself comfortable as you listened to the storm outside. The sound of strong wind and thunder was more then relaxing to you, and for some reason you enjoyed weather like that.
Gasping loudly, you jumped a little once your cat tried to climb onto you, destroying your small enjoyable moment.
,,Taquito get the fuck off her, she has a boyfriend’’ Touya pushed the cat away gently, joking around, as you just sat there and watched him, eyes wide in shock.
,, Do I?’’ you asked, not moving at all.
,, Fuck yes, you do’’ he added, wrapping his right arm around you, pulling you closer to him, as he looked for a perfect movie to watch. He took his time searching for anything interesting, mumbling some words of disappointments as he couldn’t find anything on Netlfix. At the end he played Oh, Ramona! , since none of you watched it and it was it was simply in Netflix recommendation list.
Pulling you closer to him, he started tracing his fingers along your arm, both of you concentrated on the weird movie that was playing on the screen of your Television. You always begged your friends to caress your arm, since you loved the ticklish feeling that always made you sleepy, yet they would always refuse it, giving you some lame excuses how they’re tired and so on.
Now that Touya was doing it without you having to ask him, you tried to enjoy every second of it. If you only knew, how much Touya enjoyed it, almost as much as you did. The feeling of your soft skin under his fingertips was driving him crazy, as he traced them down your tattoos, mesmerizing every inch of them.
The air got steamier in one moment, and you weren’t sure if it was because of the overly erotic scenes that were showed in the movie, or because his hand was now under your shirt, slowly moving from your back, to the side of your hips.
Trying to calm yourself down a little, you grabbed your phone, checking out all of the unread messages in the group chat. The way he moved hiss hands from side to side made you almost way to shaky. It took you some time to write a reply to your friends, and you almost dropped your phone once he put a little bit pressure into his touch, making your skin burn under his palm.
,, You should concentrate on the movie doll’’ Touya said, not stopping his movements.
,, Yeah, sorry’’ you mumbled, dropping your phone beside you, as you tried not to close your eyes in pleasure.
Once the movie got too erotic fro your taste, you found yourself with your phone in your hands again, trying to hide the blush that was spreading across your cheeks. Of course, that didn’t go unnoticed by Touya. Annoyed groan left his lips, as he snatched the phone away from you.
,, You really don’t listen’’ he pointed, hiding the phone away from you, as you complained quietly. The hand that was under your shirt was suddenly wrapped around your neck, pushing you slowly into the couch, there was no pressure in it, but the sudden turn of the whole situation made your eyes widen in shock.
,, Are you bored doll? ‘’ he asked, his face only inches away from yours as he locked your body under his own.
,, No, it’s just.. the movie is too much’’ you whispered, gulping on your saliva as he slowly tapped his fingers around your neck. This time you didn’t have to ask yourself, you knew that he was the one turning you on, and not the fucking scenes from the movie.
,, too erotic’’ you mumbled, making him laugh loudly.
,, You should have kept your eyes on me, instead of your phone, if it was getting to much for you’’ he gave you a smile, a dangerous one.
,, That won’t help’’ you confessed, making him smirk widely as you spoke those words. How could it help, when he was laying beside you handsome without even trying, as his hand was caressing your body gently.
,, Oh, am I turning you on?’’ he asked, mocking you shamelessly, as you tried to avoid his eyes.
Touya didn’t need your reply, the way you acted in the moment was enough for him, and God did he want to fuck you senseless in that moment. His hand moved a bit up from your neck, holding your jaw in one place, as he connected his lips with yours.
His hold on your jaw grew stronger, forcing you to open your mouth just enough so he could slip his tongue inside. Not breaking the kiss, he parted your tights apart, as he hovered on top of you, his hips between your legs, slowly grinding against your clothed core.
You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer into the kiss, not giving a shit about the movie or your phone anymore. The way he was grinding against you, the way you could feel his hard dick rubbing against you, made you insane in that moment and you found yourself wanting more and more.
,, On your knees’’ Toyua commanded, breaking the kiss as he sat onto the couch, spreading his legs enough to give you some space between them. Without thinking twice, you obeyed, positioning yourself down, between his legs, as he pushed his hips just a bit to pull his sweatpants and boxers down.
Touya looked down on you, not hiding the smirk on his face, as he slowly caressed your hair. Kissing the tip gently, you looked up through your long lashes, satisfied with the fact that he was going crazy as much as you do. He cursed something under his breath, as you gave him one lick, taking your time and making sure you licked every inch of it.
,, Don’t tease me doll, you’re not in position for it’’ he hissed, as you placed your lips on the tip of his cock. His hand found its way to your hair, gripping onto it, as he brought your mouth farther down him. You wanted to take your time, to play at your own pace, but Touya didn’t let you, he waited too long for this to happened and teasing wasn’t something he needed in the moment.
,, Open your mouth a bit more’’ he growled, gripping your hair tighter then before. He wanted you to obey him, he wanted you to do everything he wanted in that moment and you did, you gladly did.
It was the first time you had someone’s dick deep down your throat, and the feeling you weren’t used to made your eyes glossy so fast as his tip hit the back of your throat, making you gag a little.
Without giving you any time to get used to it, he started moving his hips, as he held your head in place. You could feel his hardness more then clear now, as his hips thrust into your mouth at some lazy, yet strong pace. Focused on his dick, you didn’t even realize that tears were rolling down your cheeks, vision getting blurry as his moves got much faster, not giving you a chance to breath properly.
,, You look so pretty when you cry’’ Touya groaned, getting even more turned on as he watched you get ruined because of his dick. The small amount of mascara you had, was all gone, turning your tears into blurry shade of black. You started gagging, and without even knowing you tried to move away a bit, giving your best to breath through your nose.
Looking up on him, you saw him squeeze his eyes shut, head swung back into the edge of your couch. You could feel your saliva dripping down your chin, and if you weren’t in that position at the moment, you would probably end up blushing. But none of that was possible, since all you could focus on was his dick hitting the same spot of your throat.
Touya stopped his movements, slowly petting your head, as you fought for your breath, coughing loudly, while tears rolled down your cheeks. If it was someone else, you would probably told them to go to hell and throw them out of your apartment, but it was Touya, and all you wanted was to do was make him feel good.
,, My good girl’’ he praised, pulling you up into his lap. You wanted to stay in his lap a bit longer, you wanted to snuggle into his neck and enjoy the moment, but just after he gave you one sloppy kiss, you found yourself under him again.
Touya took your shorts and panties off, throwing them across the living room together with his shirt. In less then a minute, the two of you were all naked, enjoying the feeling of each others skin.
,, Touya, please’’ you begged, feeling his hard erection between your legs, as he sucked onto your neck, leaving wet love bites all over it. Taking one deep breath, he started rubbing the tip of his dick up and down your clit, making you beg for him even more.
,, Needy baby’’ he mocked, placing his tip only a bit into your core, as he continued to tease you, loving every second of the way you were almost breaking down for him.
A loud scream escaped your lips as he entered his full length into you, kissing your jaw and giving you some time to adjust his size. The moment he looked down your body, to see his dick buried deep inside your core, something else grabbed his attention. Cursing loudly, his eyes focused on two shiny pieces of metal, pierced thru both of your nipples.
,, How didn’t I notice this earlier’’ he hissed, lowering his head just enough as he sucked onto your nipple, the contrast of the warm feeling of your skin and the cold metal against his tongue made his curse all over again. His hand found it’s way to your left boob, slowly pinching and twisting your nipple, making you throw your head back, and making it hard for you to concentrate on anything else than his dick that stood still inside you, while his tongue was working wonders on you.
Playing with the small piercing, Touya started moving his hips at a lazy and sloppy pace, making you feel every single inch of him. Touya groaned against your nipple, deciding to waste no time, bringing his cock out and then slamming it back inside almost urgently.
Your hand reached up to his hair, tugging it roughly, as your other hand went up to his back, scratching red lines down helping release some of the pleasure you felt in the moment. Touya rocked his hips quickly, gaining depth with each thrust he made, as you were pulling at his hair lightly, eyes shut strongly as you moaned his name loudly.
He loved how you felt around him, he loved the way you were scratching his back and tugging his hair, yet he wanted more. Placing his hand around your throat, he gave it a small squeeze. It looked like he was asking for a permission, but he wasn’t. In fact it was more like a sign, a little sign for you to prepare yourself for what’s coming.
You didn’t get the little hint he gave you, totally unprepared once his grip around your throat grew stronger, making your breathing stop, as he slammed his hips at ruthless speed. He enjoyed playing with you, giving you only a second to fight for air, before he puts the pressure around your neck again, wrapping his fingers firmly around it.
In one moment you weren’t sure if he forgot about the fact that you couldn’t breath, hand wrapped around your throat for too long making your eyes roll back. You clenched his hair, yanking it tightly, giving him a sign that you need air, only for him to smirk in response as he held it even tighter, thrusting into you with much more force then he did before.
You were more then grateful when he gave you a whole minute to breath properly. But even without his hand around your neck, you had trouble catching your breath since he was hitting your sweet spot all over and over again. Of course, that was your problem and not his.
Feeling your walls getting tighter around his dick, he once again put the not so small pressure onto your throat, forcing the tears out of you as he continued to reach your g spot each time he slammed back inside. Scratching his back, your grabbed his hand that was wrapped around your throat with your own, closing your eyes shut as you found yourself coming undone. You weren’t sure if it was because of the lack of air, or because he didn’t stop his movements, but the orgasm that hit you was the best one you ever had.
In that moment, Touya left your neck alone, smirking to himself as he noticed the marks of his fingertips buried deep in the skin of your neck. Placing his hands onto your hips, he sped up, rocking his hips against your at animalistic speed as he reached his own high.
Groaning loudly he came inside, body collapsing on your own as he slowly fucked his seed into you, as he repeated how much he loves you all over again.
Once the two of you finally calmed down, Touya helped you clean yourself, being extra careful like you were a small piece of glass that was about to break any moment.
Hopping back onto the couch, you rolled your eyes at the view of the ending of the stupid movie Touya found. He wrapped his arm around you, snatching the cigarette that was hanging between your lips and placing it between his own.
,,Oh God’’ you gasped loudly, as your cat jumped on top of you, making you jump a bit in surprise. ,, Fuck off Taquito, I have a boyfriend’’ you pushed your cat lightly away, repeating the words Touya said few hours ago, making him grin widely as he placed a kiss on your cheek.
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emeren · 3 years
Text
ring me when you’re alone - levi ackerman
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pairing: levi ackerman x fem!reader 
word count: 2k
content warnings: +18, smut, breeding, unprotected sex
notes: first time writing levi!!! huge shout out to @luvmegumi​ @oblxvion​ and @aotwrites​ for beta reading! 
SUMMARY: levi’s been gone on business for nearly a week, and just when you think you can’t take it anymore, he has a surprise up his sleeve. 
“i just,” you lifted your leg from the bubble bath, examining the way the droplets slid towards the crease of your knee. the sun was setting outside of the window, fingers tightly gripping your cellphone. “miss you.”
there was a brief silence on the other line; you knew levi had a difficult time articulating his feelings, so you were fine to wait. “miss you too, business has just been hectic recently.” 
a satisfactory smirk carved itself into your cheeks at levi’s strained words. it was funny hearing him get all flustered like this. you lightly blew at the bubbles in front of your face, free hand tracing a wet circle on the rim of the porcelain tub.
“you’ve almost been gone a week,” you sighed, thinking back to the last time you’d seen your abhorrently serious boyfriend. when he’d kissed your cheek in a parting gesture and disappeared into the security line at the airport. “our room’s a mess at this point, i’m afraid.” 
“is that so?” levi asked incredulously, his breathing uneven. it sounded like he was walking somewhere, but the way his lungs were expelling in a jagged manner had your mind wandering where it shouldn’t. you placed your leg back in the water, face no longer the only part of your body that was burning. “what’re you doing?” 
“taking a bath,” you spoke smoothly, hand leaving the rim of the tub to dip beneath the hot water. your first two fingers hesitantly tapped against your pelvis, hopeful that levi would be willing to entertain you for a moment. “levi, do you miss my body?” 
“pardon?” he choked in a leveled out surprise, voice merely tinted with the emotion. that was enough evidence for you; a light laugh slipping past your lips. 
“do you wish you could fuck me on the rim of our tub?” you questioned innocently. it was no secret that your blatancy was one of his turn ons, despite how he swore up and down that your foul wording had the opposite effect. levi was quiet for a moment; so quiet you worried you’d failed your plan. 
“such filthy thoughts you’re having, hm? teasing me like that,” he responded quickly, the conviction in his tone catching you off guard. your clit throbbed at his implication, fingers eagerly rubbing against the sensitive nerves. 
your hand was no match for the desperate and needy manner that levi touched you in, but it would have to do the job, considering he was on the other side of the country. 
“just miss you, so much,” you panted, the temperature of the water making your face break out in a light sweat. levi scoffed on the other end of the phone, clearly unimpressed by your whining. 
“do you even hear yourself right now?” his words were icy, but they clearly held no malicious intent. levi knew you were getting off to the sound of his voice, the harshness of his vocabulary, and the thought of you sitting on his lap and bouncing up and down on his dick. he knew. there wasn’t much that got past levi in the way of your emotions. “shamelessly asking me that, when you know i’m in public. just wait till i get home.” 
“can’t,” you lulled, your head rolling back onto the tub. you could just picture levi’s pale, bruisable flesh or the way he gritted his teeth when you sucked him off exactly how he liked. your fingers picked up their pace, the humidity of the bathroom amplifying the pressure that was building in your core. “need you now, ‘n you won’t be home till friday.” 
just then, your bathroom door flew open. the sound was startling enough, shooting up out of the water as your fingers nearly dropped your phone from their grasp. you couldn’t help the shriek that ripped through your chest, heart hammering against your ribcage. 
there stood levi in a white dress shirt and black slacks. his eyes were squinted in a mix of ridicule and amusement, thumb making a show of clicking the end call button. “tch, how pitiful. embarrassed about touching yourself in the bathtub, hm?” 
“you asshole,” you grinned, heart coming down from its startled high. levi had a small smile of his own, walking over and crouching down so the two of you were eye level. 
you knew that placing your wet hand against his face would scratch at his inner germaphobe, but frankly, you didn’t care. your fingers traced his fragile jaw, dull blue eyes staring you down in the best way possible as you slowly guided his lips to your own.
levi wasn’t one for kissing. he tended to be monotonous and stiff, but after nearly a week of no contact, his mouth melded to yours with ease. his hands remained rested against his knees as you invited your tongue inside his mouth, shifting in the porcelain tub so that you were sitting on your legs. 
you hadn’t meant for the kiss to be more than an excited greeting, but as he pressed his mouth harder against your own and your breathing grew staggered, you were lost in the taste of him. kissing him always felt fresh; liking waking up to a soft summer breeze in the curtains. 
your hand trailed from his jaw to tightly grip his neatly ironed shirt, both of his own hands coming up to caress your face. it was getting hard to breathe - wrapped up in his taste and smell and unwavering comfort. he shifted his head to the side for better leverage, tongue swiping against your own. that was levi’s way of saying that this was going to be much more than just a passionate kiss. 
“levi,” you mumbled against his lips, attempting to pull away, but levi had other plans. he engulfed your words in his mouth, kiss becoming frantic and needy in all the best ways. you loved how he came off as uncaring and cold, but was constantly so desperate for you and you alone. you were like a drug that he could only remain so composed in front of. 
you pulled back with a soft smirk on your lips, levi’s brows raised in annoyance. “sorry, i got a little carried away there.” he muttered, eyes hazy with ecstasy. 
“take your clothes off for me?” you asked quietly, your voice a hot whisper on his face. you didn’t miss the way his pupils dilated slightly; red, swollen lips parting just barely and the ghost of a hitch dragging from his chest. 
“eager, are we?” he asked seriously, lips just daring to upturn. you could only smile in response, pulling back to fully sit in the water. he stood from his crouched position, fingers coming to unbutton his dress shirt. your eyes followed his motions with arousal, your own hands lifting to squeeze your soapy breasts. 
you didn’t miss the way his eyes darkened at the motion, fingers slowing the smallest amount. he was nearing the end of his shirt. 
“i missed you so bad,” you drawled, your cunt aching as levi finished getting undressed. the heat of the bathwater must’ve been getting to you - your eyes were cloudy and your forehead sweaty. 
“shit,” levi cursed, stepping in the water and coming to sit in front of you. his eyes were slitted in discomfort. “what’re you doing bathing in water this hot? it’s not good for you.” 
“better this way,” you mumbled, leaning forward so that your faces were inches apart. you moved slowly, carefully crawling onto his lap so that you were straddling his waist, exposed cock sliding easily against your center. levi swore at the sensation. 
levi’s fingers suddenly gripped your jaw, roughly pulling your face down to meet his. the kiss was frantic - a week of built up sexual frustration igniting the side of him that you didn’t usually see. his lack of composure, mouth wet and tongue sloppy against your own. the way his hands gripped your thighs under the warm water. 
you could feel the swollen tip of his dick against your clit, grinding down on it. you didn’t miss the small whimper that clawed its way from his chest, swallowed by your lips. 
once again, you pulled back from the kiss, looking at his face. 
levi’s cheeks were flushed, grip on your legs ridiculously tight. he wanted you so badly; wanted you to sit on him all pretty and make all his stress melt away. 
you brought your hand between your bodies, circling around his hard cock. your thumb swiped across his sensitive tip, levi nearly feral at the simplest of touches. he was so needy for you, eyes silently begging for you to ride him out. and you would. 
his eyes scrunched closed as you slid down on top of his dick, your cunt stretching with ease as you wrapped yourself around him. you were like a menace, kissing his pale skin and sucking on his jaw. there’d most definitely be a hickey there tomorrow, but for once in his life, levi couldn’t seem to care. 
“fuck,” he groaned out, head rolling back against the tub. the only time he’d let you take control, riding him and grinding yourself into his dick. “just- shit, just like that.” 
you placed a chaste kiss to his bruised neck, hands on his shoulders as you bounced your hips up and down, taking in the sight in front of you. his eyes closed, mouth parted and face flushed. his hair was sticking to his sweaty forehead, chest glistening from the water. fuck, if levi wasn’t one of the most unknowingly attractive people you’d ever seen. 
you clenched around him as he bucked his hips upwards into you, a moan leaving your mouth in surprise. the bathwater was haphazardly sloshing over the rim, levi’s fingernails creating divots in your skin. it hurt, but in a way that had your brain doing flips. 
and levi couldn’t ignore the way your tits were bouncing up and down in front of his face, your body wet and hot as you took him within you. it’d been a long week without you, his cock twitching as you fucked each other. 
“gonna let me cum?” you asked breathlessly, the ghost of a smile on your lips. it felt ironic, asking such a question when you were clearly the one in control. your words had a certain effect on him; the thought of your pretty pussy throbbing around him and milking his seed driving him to insanity. his teeth were gritted, trying so hard to last as he let go of your hips to squeeze your soapy breasts. 
“only if you’re a good girl and clean this up when we’re done,” he seethed through his teeth as you brought your ass down, grinding a circle on his cock. it had you tossing your head back, the pressure in the pit of your stomach beginning to rear its head. 
you would give anything to remember how fucked-out levi’s face got. his fair complexion did little to hide his impending orgasm; face red and sweaty. 
the feeling of his cock twitching inside of you, your arousal holding you in a steamy, wet chokehold. you would be a good girl for him, you would.  
“of course, anything for you,” you whimper, smiling as you watch your words wrap themselves around his head, brows furrowing as he allows himself to succumb. 
despite being in the hot bathwater, you can feel him come undone, your own orgasm quick to follow as he fills you up. your hips stutter against his, trying to contain your sounds by resting your head in the crook of his neck. 
levi groaned out as you run him dry. his hands leave your chest to grip your ass, squeezing lovingly as you panted out the rush of dopamine. 
“missed this,” levi breathed against your head. your tight cunt was still enveloping his dick, but neither of you moved. your heart swelled at his words, placing a soft kiss to his collarbone. “but why’d you have to mark me up like that?” 
“what ever do you mean?” you drawled out, trying to suppress your smile. you didn’t see the way he rolled his blue eyes, annoyance tracing his face. “your skin is just so pretty, i had to.” 
“tch,” he complained, lightly shoving your shoulder back. “you promised you’d clean all this water up.” 
“i know,” another kiss to his chest. “and i will, for you.” 
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<3 <3 <3 
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luminnara · 3 years
Text
God Damn, Shit Sucking Vampires | Poly lost boys x oc CH 9
(oops no gif because the ones i want won’t upload right now)
Just as a reminder, lost boys requests are OPEN!
Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10
Tags:  @americancowgirl19 @ilikechocolatemilkh
Warnings: Blood, gore, vampire things
Hearing a strange voice in her head nearly drove Vera into a panic. When she realized she was hearing Max, she nearly flew into a second panic, the sire’s strong, firm voice only reassuring her that all of her fears were correct and he wasn’t going to like her very much. 
As she walked along the beach, bare toes sinking into the sand, Dwayne at her side, Vera briefly wondered how hard it would be to kill Max if it came down to a struggle. Did she have a chance against him? Maybe, if she stooped low enough to cry for her own sire, he would come and take care of it—
“Hey, chill out,” Dwayne said, stopping and turning towards her slightly. “What’s wrong?”
She realized she had halted and was simply standing there, staring at nothing as her mind raced. He could probably feel how freaked out she was getting, and as she looked at him, she found a gentle, understanding expression on his face. 
“C’mere,” he said, his voice low and rumbly and comforting. 
He opened his arms in invitation and she dove right in, moving quickly and desperately enough that she knocked him right onto his ass. He landed in the sand with a laugh, situating the two of them so that she could sit in his lap and they could face the dark, never ending ocean. 
“Did Max freak you out?” Dwayne asked as Vera tucked her head under his chin. 
“...a little.” 
“Why?”
She sighed. Something about Dwayne made her feel so safe that she was actually considering talking with him about things she hadn’t even told David yet. “Because I’m not used to this. I’m used to vampires who want me out of their territory the second I even get close, and I can’t really blame them.”
“This is your territory, too.” He said. “You’re the one who’ll be kicking people out of it now.”
“I don’t think Max is going to like me.” She grumbled. 
“Why not?”
She was quiet for a moment, fiddling with the zipper of his jacket. “Because he’ll see me as a threat.”
“Max isn’t like that.”
“You’re just saying that now because he’s your sire.”
“No, I’m saying it because I mean it.” Dwayne rested his cheek on the top of her head, his hand absentmindedly rubbing circles on her back. “Max wants a family. Now you’re part of that family.”
He sounded so sure of his own words that Vera was actually feeling inclined to believe him for a moment. “Parents don’t tend to like me.”
“Anyone who can handle having Paul in their pack can handle you.”
She scoffed. “He isn’t that bad.”
“Maybe to you.” Dwayne chuckled. He tightened his arms around her when he realized that his jokes weren’t very reassuring. “Max is a good man. A good sire.”
“Why?” Vera asked. “What does he do that makes you like him so much?”
“Well,” Dwayne situated them a bit better, getting more comfortable. “He’s fair. He acts stern, but...he sees himself as our father.”
“Don’t they always?” Vera grumbled. 
“He calls David his prodigal son, but he always wanted a whole family. He ended up with the four of us.”
“So, what? He plucked you all up out of the gutter and that makes him a good guy?”
“Why are you so determined to hate him?”
“I’m not!” she protested. “I’m just...wary.”
“Max gave us new lives.” Dwayne sighed. “He found us back in San Francisco after we got ourselves in some trouble with another vampire.”
Vera had to snort in amusement at that. “Seriously? Who’d you pick a fight with? Dracula?”
“Well…”
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
He flashed her a smile. “How were we supposed to know who he was?”
“Humans really have no self preservation instincts, do they?”
“Apparently not.” Dwayne chuckled, squeezing her. 
“How long ago was it?”
“1906, same year as that big earthquake. Tore the whole city apart...it was the perfect time for four vampires to start learning how to survive, with all that chaos. People were dead, more were missing...nobody noticed a few more disappearing here and there.”
“Is that why Max and, uh...Vlad were there?” Vera asked. 
“I imagine.” Dwayne shrugged. “We resisted at first. David was especially pissed off.”
“Yeah, I can see that.” Vera laughed quietly. 
“But...we took to the lifestyle pretty quickly.”
“And that’s that?” Vera asked. 
“That’s that.” he shrugged. “Max wants to be a father figure. He turned David because he wanted a son, and he taught him everything he knew. Then, he decided David needed companions, and he happened to find me not long after. Then the others. Max isn’t a bad guy, Vera. You’ll see.”
“That’s what everybody says about their own sire.” she said, looking out at the black waves as they crashed against the sand just a few feet in front of her. “Everyone wants to talk their sires up, because without them, we’re nothing. Just because your own sire is nice to you doesn’t mean he’ll be nice to me.”
“What’s so bad about your own that you think ours is so awful?”
The question hung in the air for a moment, Vera’s mouth pressing into a thin line. “Nothing.”
“Don’t lie to me.” Dwayne opened his eyes, rubbing his cheek over the top of her head affectionately. 
“I’m not.”
“I know that you are, though.”
Vera let out a frustrated noise, then heaved a sigh. Maybe talking about this could be good for her. Maybe verbalizing thoughts and fears that she’d been living with for centuries could finally help her get over them...and if anyone was a good listener, it would be Dwayne. 
“Okay, fine.” she said. “What’s so bad about my sire? Everything. Everything is what’s bad about him, literally.”
“Where’s he from?” Dwayne asked. 
“The old country. Like...the old old country.”
“Why are you so reluctant to talk about him?” Dwayne’s voice was low and gentle, barely audible over the sound of the waves. 
“Because he’s got a reputation.” she fiddled with the hem of her shorts. “Most older vampires know of him. You guys might not, and if we had a different situation, I’d say it should stay that way.”
“That serious, huh?”
“You have no idea.”
“Hmm.” Dwayne’s chest rumbled. “The others should hear about this, too.”
“Yeah, they should.” she sighed again, her voice small. She felt small in general, all curled up in Dwayne’s lap like that. Small and helpless. She wasn’t, though, and she didn’t want them to think that she was. So she cleared her throat, trying to muster as much confidence as she could, ignoring the mild twisting in her gut. “I’ll tell you guys everything tomorrow night.”
Dwayne made a small, impatient sound. 
“Max will want to hear, too.”
“That’s a good point,” he admitted. “You know, I still need to hunt for you…”
Vera perked up slightly. The thought of food made the tight feeling in her chest loosen up slightly, and she looked at Dwayne eagerly. “Yes, please.”
He laughed, wrapping his arms around her as he stood and set her back on her feet. “Then let’s go find some snacks, Princess.”
-0-
“You know, we don’t have to do this. We could just go back to the cave--”
“What happened to that tough attitude you had a few days ago?” David raised an eyebrow, looking amused as he pulled Vera off the back of his bike.
“I’m still tough,” she growled, knowing that he could very easily feel how nervous she was. 
“Come on, babe,” Paul parked his bike next to David’s and bounded over to her. “You’ll be fine.”
“We’d never let anything happen to ya,” Marko said, following Paul. 
Vera knew he was telling the truth, but it didn’t make her feel any better. She had barely slept the entire day, waking up restless and on edge as soon as the sun disappeared, and it had taken a good deal of coaxing from David to even get her to leave the roost. They took Star and Laddie to the boardwalk, dropped them off with some cash, and then headed off to Max’s house.
David told Vera along the way that Star and Laddie weren’t allowed to know where Max lived. They really weren’t allowed to know anything about him in general, in order to protect him, so when the pack walked up to the front gate of their sire’s home, it was only the four boys who accompanied Vera. She didn’t mind; having Star around would have only put her more on edge, probably, and she had been glad to leave the halfling behind. 
As she faced the gated bridge that led to Max’s completely normal-looking, Californian home, Vera did everything she could to act confident. She squared her shoulders, held her chin up, and pretended that she had nothing to worry about...but the boys could see right through the facade, and as they joined her, they all fell into a little formation. In moments, Vera was surrounded by them, David offering his arm while the others stepped into their spots behind. It made her feel better, knowing that they were all there to protect her...but at the same time, she still wished they were all out wandering the boardwalk. 
“So brave,” David sneered as she took his arm. 
“Shut up.” she growled, vaguely aware of Dwayne’s hand on her lower back. 
“Relax,” Marko purred. 
“Don’t you dare tell me to relax, Marko, I swear—“
The barking of a rapidly approaching dog interrupted her, the sound of paws thumping rhythmically against the wooden walkway drawing her attention away from the boys. A big white hellhound was barreling towards the gate, all teeth and rage, and although it looked like it wanted to tear her limbs off, the sight of such a beast made Vera temporarily forget why she was so anxious. Even as it barked and snarled and threw itself against the gate, she thought that it was absolutely adorable.
“Oh, look at you!” She squealed as the boys all jumped back. When she took a step forward, David tried to yank her towards him, but she slipped away easily, too focused on this hellhound to care. 
“You’re such a big handsome boy,” she said, in a voice that made Paul jealous. 
“No fair,” he grumbled, crossing his arms. “Why’s the dumb dog get all that?”
Marko glanced at the taller blond nervously. “Don’t call him dumb, you remember what happened last time?”
Paul groaned, rolling his eyes at the memory of nearly losing a hand. 
The dog stopped barking as Vera approached, falling silent as it sniffed the air around her. The vicious look on its face was gone, replaced by curiosity, and when Vera ignored David’s irritated warnings and reached over the gate to pet it, the animal whined. 
“You must be Thorn,” Vera cooed, scratching behind its ears. “What a big, brave, hell-y hellhound you are, yes you are!”
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Paul said as he watched. 
“What?” Vera asked, looking over her shoulder at him. 
“Thorn doesn’t like any of us.” Marko huffed. “Why’s he like you so much?”
“Well...he can probably smell my sire on me,” Vera said. “Might remind him of home. Hellhounds usually like me because of that.”
“...Home?” Paul asked. 
“I’ll tell you later.”
“But I wanna know now!” he whined.
Thorn growled at him. 
“Thorn!” a male voice called from the other end of the little bridge. 
Vera immediately stiffened. The front door of the house had opened, and in it stood a man, wearing a very stylish suit and horn rimmed glasses. Thorn heeded his master’s call, giving Paul one last woof before trotting back towards Max. His departure freed the front gate, and David brushed past Vera to open it, taking her hand and leading the gang across the walkway. 
“Boys,” Max greeted as they approached him. He offered David a stern smile, one which David didn’t return, and when Max’s eyes fell upon Vera all tucked up against his side, his eyes narrowed slightly. “And you must be Vera.”
She didn’t like that he knew her name. It was inevitable that he’d find out what it was, but still...she kept clinging to the hope that maybe, he wouldn’t learn too much about her. The boys seemed so convinced that Max was just an annoying father, but as Vera took him in, she could see that behind the trendy, 80s-dad facade, there was an old, powerful vampire, and those were the kind she didn’t get along with very well. 
“Well, come in, everyone, before dinner gets cold. I made sure to get all your favorites, boys.” Max stepped to the side, inviting them over the threshold in a very courteous way, one that suggested he had nothing to fear from the boys or Vera.
“You shouldn’t have,” David sneered sarcastically as he walked in. 
“Would it kill you to be nice?” Vera hissed. 
He rolled his eyes.
Max noticed the exchange with a bemused expression on his face. “Go on in and sit down. The table’s already set.”
The house was nice. It wasn’t incredibly extravagant, by any means, but it was perfectly well decorated, modern art that Vera didn’t quite know how to appreciate hanging on the walls. Everything was clean and organized, not a speck of dust in sight, as opposed to the state of decay the boys kept their lair in. Max seemed to enjoy playing the role of a video store owner, and his home reflected that; if anyone came to visit, they wouldn’t see a single item out of place, nor would they have any reason to be suspicious of him. There were no torture devices, no loose vials of blood sitting around, no skulls or human skin nailed up. It looked so...normal. 
Vera almost stopped to wonder why exactly she was so nervous...and then she heard the whimpering.
“Geez, Max,” Paul remarked as they rounded the corner and entered the dining room, “you really shouldn’t have.”
“Well, fresh caught is always the best,” Max said. “Don’t you agree?”
“Hell yeah,” Marko growled, lips pulled back in a grin. 
The dining room table was covered in an array of meats, from a suckling pig in the center to a rack of ribs at the end. Six chairs surrounded the feast, plates and cutlery set out at each spot, with big glass goblets already half full of blood ready and waiting. Next to each chair stood a human, frozen due to both fear and Max’s vampire magic, a couple of them shaking and considerably more conscious than the others. 
Max walked to his place at the head of the table, Thorn at his side as he took his seat. David sat at the far end, facing him, his eyes dark and hungry as he held himself back. Dwayne sat at David’s left side, Vera at his right, while Paul and Marko took the remaining two chairs and tried not to completely lose their minds. They were shaking almost as much as the humans were, Paul looking at his blood donor eagerly while Marko held a little sneer on his face that suggested he was about ten seconds from ripping his apart.
“Dig in, everyone,” Max said, taking his cloth napkin and tucking it into his shirt collar. “But please try not to make a mess. There’s more than enough here for each of you.”
David immediately grabbed the arm of his meal, sinking his fangs in and taking a drink while Max preferred to drain his into the goblet he had set out for himself. Vera could only watch, stunned, as the carnage began, and before long, she was joining in. The human Max had caught for her was a middle aged clergyman, and she had to tear through his holy sleeve to get to his flesh. 
She didn’t mind, though; she very rarely ever got to eat members of the clergy. They were generally too much work to hunt down, and since she had an aversion to churches, well...like most vampires, she tended to leave them alone. It was hard to nab them without making a spectacle and letting the entire town know that something was amiss. So, all things considered, a little bit of extra work involving a mouthful of fabric was worth it. This was like a special treat for her, and she couldn’t help but drain him all in one go, still holding on even after he had collapsed in a bloodless heap on the floor. 
When she looked up, she realized that Max was watching her. 
“So,” he said, speaking over the hellish sounds of the others slurping up their meals, “I believe some congratulations are in order. Welcome to the family, Vera.”
She swallowed her last mouthful of blood and looked at him. “Uh...thanks. I-I mean, thank you.”
Max picked up his silverware, cutting a slice of ham for himself. “Where are you from, Vera?”
“I wander,” she said, following suit and stabbing her fork into a raw steak. 
“I’ve surmised that much,” Max chuckled good-naturedly. “I meant where are you from originally.”
“...oh.” She cleared her throat somewhat awkwardly. “Italy.”
“Italy!” Max exclaimed. “Such a lovely region. I haven’t visited The Mediterranean since I left the old country myself. If I didn’t have the shop here, perhaps I’d take a trip...have you been back recently?”
“No,” she crossed and uncrossed her legs, trying to act like she wasn’t fidgeting. She took a bite of her steak, focusing on the blood as it trickled down her throat. 
Max reached for his goblet, raising the blood to his lips and taking a drink. “And your sire, is he still in Europe?”
Vera almost choked on her food. 
By this point, the boys were all watching. Paul was licking blood off his lips while Marko still had his dinner’s forearm in his mouth, but David and Dwayne were both focused solely on the conversation at hand, their eyes narrowed slightly as they listened. 
When she realized that everyone was waiting, Vera coughed into her fist, clearing her throat. “Y-yes, he is.”
Max’s eyes darkened, despite the smile on his face. “You know you need to tell me about him, Vera.”
“There’s not much to tell,” she lied, turning back to her steak. “Just an ancient vampire, out there in the old country. Not very exciting.”
“Exciting or not, I’d still prefer to know who he is.” Max said. 
She shrugged, reaching for her glass to take a nervous drink. “I doubt you’d know him.”
“When you drink that blood, you’ll be joining our family.”
She froze, hand on the stem of the glass.
“I’m sure your sire will be able to feel it. I’d hate to be rude and not even know his name in the event he visits one day.”
Vera stared at the blood—Max’s blood—as her fingers tightened around the stem. “You don’t want him to visit.”
“Oh?” Max asked, appearing as relaxed as ever. “Why not?”
“Because of who he is.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “And what he can do.”
Dwayne and David glanced at each other. 
When Max spoke again, his voice was softer, gentler than before. “What is your sire’s name, Vera?”
With a great deal of effort, she opened her eyes again, still staring into the blood rather than at any of them. 
“Asmodeus.” She said. “My sire is Asmodeus.”
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Text
It shouldn’t have been a big deal to Sam that Bucky was taller than him. In fact, it wasn’t a big deal to Sam, no matter what Sarah insisted.
“There is only one thing you men are more sensitive about than your height,” Sarah had teased with a knowing smirk, “and that would be y’all’s foot size.”
Sam had wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Please don’t ever speak to me again.”
“You are the one living under my roof, Samuel.”
Unfortunately, his sister had been right about that, too.
Except no, no, it didn’t matter that Bucky was taller than Sam! The difference was a measly two inches, so small it could hardly even be called a ‘difference’ with total seriousness. And Bucky was yet to boast of this slight advantage he had in height, either, thus reinforcing the fact that it really and truly did not at all matter to Sam that Bucky was the teensiest bit taller than him. Sure, maybe sometimes Sam wanted to be the one who leaned down into a tender kiss, but that wish was not so strong as to be the only thing ever on his mind.
“If that’s the case, why can’t you stop talking my ear off about it?”
Sam frowned at his sister’s irritated tone, though her dramatic eye roll that followed told him Sarah’s exasperation was only half-genuine. “Well, since you’re always telling the boys you know everything, I figured you’d be the best person to ask for adv—”
“Oh, you hush.” Sarah swatted his arm with the kitchen towel. “I don’t tell them I know everything. I just remind them that if they have questions, they should come to me before you or Bucky.”
Yeah, Sam couldn’t blame her for that one. Bucky’s knowledge was antiquated at best and Sam no longer bothered to deny how his constant to and fro across the country meant he was oftentimes out the loop. “Okay, well, now I’m the one coming to you with a question. So what should I do? Buy a pair of heels?” He was pretty sure he’d hate wearing them, but Bucky’s reaction would inevitably be hilarious. Sam was tempted.
“Hell no, do not waste your paycheck on that.” Sarah sighed as she hung the beige towel up beside the sink. “Look, bro. If you’re coming to me like AJ and Cass do with a question about people, I’m gonna give you the same answer I always give them. If you got a problem with someone…” She gave him a flat look that immediately clued Sam in to the fact that he was going to hate her advice. “Talk. It. Out.”
Sam groaned, leaning back against the wooden cabinets of the kitchen. “You already know Bucky’s the quiet and condescending type.”
“Who gives a shit? Clearly you’re the one with a problem here, not your beau.”
Touché.
“Also, you chose to date him.”
“Alright, alright,” Sam grumbled. “You’ve made your point.”
“Thank you. Now go put all your counselor skills to use and have a talk with your man,” Sarah concluded with a shooing gesture. “Oh, also—wake up the boys for me, will you? They’re gonna be late for school if they don’t get moving.”
Sam gave her a mock salute, grinning as Sarah rolled her eyes a second time before turning back towards the eggs she was scrambling on the stove. Knowing such a reaction meant their conversation was over, Sam resigned himself to maybe—maybe—talking to Bucky about his… see, he didn’t even know what to call the issue. His height complex? God no, that sounded horrible.
Well, first things first—he needed to wake up the boys.
As Sam headed towards the stairs, he passed a sleepy Bucky emerging from the small half bath, his normal hand covering his mouth as he yawned while the vibranium one scratched his stomach. Sam did his best to ignore the way the latter action made the hem of Bucky’s shirt ride up a fraction of an inch.
“Morning,” he said, earning a tired nod from Bucky in response as he reached the foot of the stairs, pausing after taking only a few steps up. “Sleep well?”
Bucky nodded again, a content smile tugging at his lips. “Through the whole night.”
Sam’s chest swelled with pride at the revelation. It had now been—what, a week and a half of restful nights for Bucky? Surely he was verging on a new record. “Hell yeah, man. That’s great.”
Bucky’s little smile became a pleased smirk. “I still think I’d sleep even better in your room—”
Sam laughed. “Sorry, Buck. Not with kids in the house.” He glanced at the clock across the hall before taking another step up the stairs. “Speaking of the boys, I need to wake them up before Sarah has my head.”
“Oh, wait. I’ll come with you.”
Sam pretended his heart didn’t flutter at the near-insufferable domesticity of the mental image that followed, one of Bucky gently shaking his nephews’ shoulders to get them out of bed. Christ. Sam was so whipped.
When Bucky reached the foot of the stairwell, Sam couldn’t help but notice the scattered fluffy tufts his partner’s hair had developed into throughout the night. Unfairly-attractive bed head, as it were. This casual observation was followed by a more intense thought that hit Sam like a sledgehammer.
He could see the top of Bucky’s head. Because, on the stairs, he was taller than Bucky.
Sam didn’t consider himself to be an impulsive person—no matter what Bucky said—but at that moment, he threw forethought to the wind. Bucky only had his feet on the first and second steps when Sam leaned down to cup his partner’s face with both hands and crash their lips together in a kiss that made fireworks explode in Sam’s stomach. Bucky’s morning breath wasn’t even too bad—rinsed his mouth, maybe?—and Sam soon found himself lost in the warmth of Bucky’s lips on his and the firm grip Bucky now had on his hips. Although he sorely regretted the eventual need to pull away for air, Sam had to admit that the dazed, blissful expression on Bucky’s face almost made breaking the kiss worth it.
God. Fuck. That settled it. If this was what it was like to kiss Bucky Barnes from above, Sam was going to suck it up and lay everything out to Bucky. Sarah would tease him endlessly, as sisters were wont to do, but damn.
It’d be so worth it.
“What was that for?” Bucky finally murmured, running a hand up and down Sam’s side.
Sam smiled as he traced Bucky’s bottom lip with his thumb. Ha. “Ask me later. We gotta wake up the boys.”
Bucky nodded. He made absolutely no move to continue up the stairs. “Kiss me again, first?”
Well, who was Sam to refuse such a polite request?
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othermainblog · 3 years
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A (Not So) Quiet Morning
A/N: This really is the first fanfic I’ve written in years huh. I was feeling inspired because I desperately want more fluffy content between Kaeya and Crepus so I guess I’m making my own food at this point. Featuring some of my personal headcanons, see the bottom for more if you’re interested. Enjoy!
On a clear and pleasantly cool midmorning, while working on his newest painting in the study, Crepus Ragnvindr finds himself struck by an impulse.
It is a peaceful morning. Diluc has decided to visit Jean across the city, bringing that tortoise of his with him to go and visit hers. The servants have busied themselves elsewhere to give him the quiet atmosphere he desires while painting. And Kaeya, in an unprecedented move, has sought his company over Diluc’s.
Crepus is not ignorant to the importance of this moment. He is hyperaware of Kaeya’s presence in the room with him, where the boy has chosen a couch with a very tempting sunbeam on which to curl up with a book. Admittedly, it is wreaking havoc on his ability to concentrate on the scene he intends to paint, but there is no bitterness to accompany that fact.
Because Kaeya rarely seeks out Crepus’ company on his own, more often tagging along with Diluc when his brother seeks his attention. Crepus has worried that this indicates a lack of trust in him, but he has been unsure on how to address the problem.
Today, that doesn’t seem to be an issue in the least.
Again, as it has done countless times this morning, Crepus finds his eyes sliding over to observe his newest son without his conscious desire. He finds himself wondering what is happening in Kaeya’s book; whatever the narrative turn, it must be one that Kaeya is enjoying, because when Crepus looks his way, he sees a subdued smile on his son’s face.
He can feel his own mouth curling in response — a reaction he is quite familiar with from his years spent raising Diluc. In this moment, despite his many regrets, Crepus Ragnvindr feels like the most fortunate man in Teyvat.
The sudden lack of sound must be more obvious than he realized, though. As Kaeya moves to turn to the next page, he glances up at Crepus. Something about his expression must startle Kaeya, because his eye goes wide, the smile becoming uncertain and small.
That won’t do at all, thinks Crepus.
Giving Kaeya as kind a smile as he can muster, Crepus heaves himself to his feet, taking a moment to wipe his hands on the damp cloth one of the servants has had the foresight to bring to the study before making themself scarce. Then he approaches the couch.
“May I sit with you, Kaeya?”
Kaeya looks a bit bemused at this point, but nods and lowers his book to his lap, marking his place with one thumb.
Crepus lowers himself carefully to sit next to Kaeya, rather on the other end like Kaeya undoubtedly expected him to. He keeps an eye on the other’s reaction — curious but not alarmed. Excellent.
Crepus settles, and then deliberately turns so that Kaeya has his full attention. He smiles. “That looks like a good book.”
Kaeya tilts his head a bit, then flips the book to show Crepus the cover. Clearly he has no concept of where this is going, but he seems willing to play along and find out. Crepus again is humbled by the trust in him that that shows.
“Ah, that is a good one. One of my favorites, when I was about your age. I remember how determined I was to finish it, the first time. More than that, I remember how tired I was the next day, after I stayed awake all night to finish it. I actually fell asleep during lessons! My tutors were not pleased. My hand still aches to this day, they made me write so many lines.” Crepus grins and playfully shakes his hand out for emphasis.
A shy little smile is his reward, hesitantly amused by this anecdote. It is, however, much too quick to fade away again.
It is as he is processing the disappointment of this that the impulse strikes. It is one he is not wholly unfamiliar with, being a father for a good many years now, but one that has until now only reared its mischievous head around Diluc.
Crepus has kept a certain small distance between himself and Kaeya in the time he has spent with him, not through his own desires, but out of fear of frightening the boy. Not to say that he has been able to to completely suppress the desire to tease Kaeya entirely; he considers it his divinely gifted right to do so as a parent. And so far, Kaeya has seemed surprised to be included, but not unhappily so. Crepus does not think it is wishful thinking to say that Kaeya has come to trust Crepus, not with today’s request to spend the morning with him instead of his best friend.
It is this last thought that decides it. Crepus allows that spirit of mischief to posses him fully.
“Come now. That won’t do, Kaeya.” Crepus injects some transparently false gravitas to his voice, to signal the game. He would never want his sons to seriously think he was disappointed in them for even a moment.
The ploy works. Kaeya sits up straighter, open curiosity on his face. He studies Crepus for a moment before coming to a decision and twisting his upper body to place the book on the side table. Then he turns back to look up at Crepus, hands relaxed on the knees of his crossed legs. Open body language, an acceptance of Crepus’ playful invitation.
Crepus feels his falsely somber expression melt at the edges. A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, and he gives up the pretext.
“That wasn’t nearly enough. I think I need to see a bigger smile than that.”
Kaeya blinks as Crepus leans closer, lifting his hands with deliberate slowness, making it clear that he will stop if Kaeya wants him to. Kaeya does not stop him, and Crepus’ grin only widens.
“Fortunately, I have a good idea of what to do to fix this.” And Crepus proves the idea a good one indeed, as his fingers gently press into his son’s sides and wiggle.
The reaction is immediate: a jump, a surprised intake of breath, and two small hands placing themselves on his own. Crepus pauses, seeing if Kaeya will signal for him to stop, and feels warm as the signal doesn’t come. Kaeya’s hands do not push his away, and his nervous look is tinged with a playful excitement — an expression universally familiar to parents, he is sure. Crepus grins and attacks in earnest.
His hands move upwards, digging gently into ribs that are still a bit too prominent for Crepus’ tastes, and is rewarded with an exhale that shudders as it catches on a laugh. Kaeya squirms, curling away, mouth wavering into a smile, still not pushing Crepus’ hands away, and Crepus is so very fond of this boy.
It is the work of seconds to turn that exhale into a proper laugh, and Crepus is delighted to learn that his youngest son is, as it turns out, a giggler.
“Maha-! Ahaha! Master Crehehep-!” Kaeya wriggles into the arm of the couch, curling up and kicking his legs and not managing to get even one finger off of his ribs on his own.
Well, Crepus can certainly help him with that, at least.
Those fingers creep further up, worming their way under his arms to look for more giggles.
Kaeya squeaks, squeezing his arms to his sides as hard as he can and slipping against the arm of the couch until he is nearly on his back, legs coming up to again kick at nothing. It is a perfect opportunity to change targets, and one that Crepus has no problem taking advantage of. While one hand stays put, the other reaches to snag one little knee.
The reaction is a bit startling. Kaeya yelps and then bursts into the kind of laughter that can only be described as hysterical. For the first time, he manages to land a hit with the other foot, though without much force. Crepus pauses, startled, and when he looks at Kaeya he sees his son is just as surprised himself. Kaeya stares at him for a moment, eye wide, before giving a cutely nervous smile and shrinking down further into the couch.
After waiting for a signal that doesn’t come, Crepus smiles at the silent permission and slides his hand down to wrap around his calf. Holding his leg still, he brings the other hand, not back to the kneecap, as Kaeya undoubtedly expected, but behind the knee.
Evidently, this is spot is a winner as well, because Kaeya jerks and wheezes on his laughter, squirming and, after only a moment of this, letting out a snort.
Crepus can’t help but laugh at the way Kaeya freezes and slaps a hand over his mouth to contain any more, before another burst of laughter gets the better of him and he removes it to suck in more air.
Of course, all good things must come to an end, and Crepus would rather it end before it becomes unpleasant in truth. So he stops the gentle flutter under his son’s knee and releases his leg, watching in amusement as he immediately pulls it back to curl up in a little ball as he regains his breath.
Crepus allows him silence as he recovers, and eventually Kaeya gets enough breath back to uncurl and push himself upright again. He eyes his father from this new vantage point before asking.
“What was that for?”
“Ah, I’m afraid I had no other choice,” Crepus tells him solemnly. “It was vitally important that I hear you laugh today, and how else was I to do it? You never laugh at my jokes, after all.”
“Maybe you’re just not good at telling jokes,” Kaeya counters, and then freezes as he realizes his own daring.
Crepus only laughs again, reaching out to stroke displaced strands of blue out of his face. “In that case, it’s a good thing I have you around to practice on. I’ll be sure to improve my material with your valuable feedback.” His heart feels near to bursting at the way Kaeya relaxes and laughs softly again, leaning into the touch.
“I guess so.”
A/N: As with most people, I don’t think Kaeya as an adult and Kaeya as a child were exactly the same. Even putting aside the can of worms that is the whole Khaenri'ahn plant thing, getting adopted by a family in a totally foreign country is a lot for a kid to deal with. I imagine he was a little uncertain about his place at first. Of course, I also headcanon him as a bit of a little shit (but a cute one) so once he felt more settled I’m sure he could get a bit mouthy sometimes too haha.
I also headcanon Kaeya switched off between calling him “Master Crepus” and “Father” but this is set before he tried out “Father” for the first time, he’s working up to it.
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stephspurs · 3 years
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A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction
hi guys and gals! Part 7 sees friendship strengthened, decisions being made and love ultimately hurting. As always, please enjoy the next part and let me know what you think is going to happen in part eight! I actually love hearing from you all so please don't be too shy to reach out and message me - I love a good chat LOL Love always, Steph xx
Part 7 | settima parte
warnings; love sucks man. word count;  1850 writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter. next update; Monday 09/08 5pm AEST. Updates are three times/week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday)! Tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven link to fic masterlist here
“bella amelia, cosa ho fatto per meritarmi questa telefonata?” (beautiful amelia, what did i do to deserve this phone call?) Jorginho spoke his second-native tongue down the line to the British girl, calling him way past her self-appointed bedtime of 9pm.
“Jorgi, ho bisogno del consiglio di un amico” (Jorgi, i need the advice of a friend). Amelia, almost desperately, pleaded down the line to the boy who became her therapist.
It had been a few days since Amelia & Jack’s facetime where they sat and listened to the countless offers the successful girl had waiting in her voice message inbox. Being the person that she is, Amelia needed to distract herself from obsessing over the messages so she threw herself into her job. Spending too many hours over her paid allocation at Juventus training ground, getting administrative work done for the season ahead.
Was this her way of nesting? Or empty-nesting? Was she subconsciously preparing the club and her boys for life without her? Getting them ready with a season's worth of set pieces and tactical plays that would secure them an outstanding 37th victory? On the flip side, was she preparing for her new role in England which she had yet to accept. There was no harm in her taking her intellectual property back over to the motherland. The two clubs did not compete in the same tournaments, perhaps only the Champions league - but who's to say that whatever club she does pick will make the Champions League? There was no doubt Juve would be there - all of her preparation would ensure they would be. Whoever took over her role simply just had to show up and keep the boys in line.
“ok tesoro, parlami.” (Ok darling, speak to me). The Italian settled onto his couch, espresso in hand, waiting to hear the younger girl's problem.
“So I've spoken with Kyle & Jack now, and have told them of my predicament. They both are very heavily favouring one side - but I need a voice of reason. If you happen to express the same sentiments that they both did, then maybe that's all of the reassurance I need to make this final decision.” Amelia switched back to her native tongue.
After spending the better part of an hour discussing in great depth the offers that she was receiving from the 5 english clubs, Amelia felt just as confused as she did before calling the Chelsea boy. No surprise that Jorgi was team Come to the Prem & Join Chelsea, but the italian midfield maestro had also brought her back down to earth from cloud nine and reminded her of what, or who, she was leaving behind.
“Now I don't like telling you what to do, but you need to discuss this with Fede, Amelia. He doesn’t deserve a lot of things, but this is something he does.”
So that's where Amelia found herself the next morning. Sunday’s in Italy were reserved for espresso and long walks in the sun. This particular Sunday must have been reflective of the internal turmoil she was facing, uncommon for the season, the sky above her was overcast and a light drizzle had started to set in on her walk to the charming Italian’s townhouse.
______________________________________________________________
“pensavo fosse un mito che gli inglesi portino con sé il tempo the” (i thought it was a myth that british people bring the weather with them) Fede said as he opened the door, and his arms, while looking down the two steps at me.
“Very funny” I said as I gave him a hug. He always was so good at hugs. I’m going to miss them. Snap out of it Amelia - you don’t even know if you’re going to go yet. Oh she knows she's going. She also knows what club she's going to. No she doesn't, you be quiet. I’m here rooting for her Italian romance. If I had an angel and devil on each shoulder, their conversation would speak my internal monologue as such.
Walking through to his kitchen, putting on a coffee and saying hello to his dogs, Fede stood in the doorway and watched me move around his kitchen as though it was my own.
“I’m convinced you got British bulldogs because you just can’t help but love the English” I cheekily smiled up at him from my crouched position in the middle of his kitchen, giving the two bullys the best head rubs.
“Sure, you keep thinking that Amelia” Oh, the way he says your name Amelia, so foreign, so romantic. He says it the same way any other Italian would say it, he’s nothing special. Be quiet, let them have their moment.
“Lets go and enjoy these out in the courtyard, is your sun shade still up? It should hold out the rain right?” Amelia spoke rushedly as she poured two espresso cups and walked towards his back door.
“Tesoro, why are you so unsteady today? Is something troubling you?” Fede spoke worriedly, noticing my little nervous habits coming out to play and speaking faster than my mind could comprehend. Better to just get this over with i think, for once we agree on something.
“Ok i need to tell you something, and i need you to let me get it all out before interrupting me. Can you do that? This is something i’ve been working up the courage to speak out loud, let alone speak it to you”
Fede took a sip of his espresso, holding my eye contact, before putting his cup back on its saucer and leaning forward, elbows on his knees. He thought he was ready for what i was about to say, expecting it to be yet another long winded speech as to why i want to put a label on our situationship. Oh boy, how wrong he was.
“After the success of the european tournament, i have received a lot of praise and recognition for my skills”
“And you deserve every bit of it amore, every bit and even more” Oh dear, could my heart hurt anymore?
“Fede, I asked you not to interrupt me…”
“Ok ok, sorry, continue”
“So, I have received a lot of recognition both here in Italy as well as from my home country of England. In saying that, I have received a few offers from clubs in the premier league that want me to bring my approach, the italian approach, to the english game. It's a real step up in my career and it's something I am seriously considering. I’ve spoken with some of the boys back home and also Jorgi, they all think that this is the next step for me. I’m far too comfortable here, I can't grow in my comfort zone. I think I'm ready for a new challenge.”
I held eye contact with the 27 year old, I wasn’t about to let him know just how vulnerable I was feeling here in front of him. Something Fede could always do was read me, and read my emotions. If he knew how exposed I felt, how easily I could be swayed over this decision, then he would make it his life's mission to do so. I had made my mind up that I was going, but there was also a part of me that decided if he was to give me what I was after I would be open to the possibility of staying.
“So it seems that you have asked for the opinion of everyone else in your life, and made your decision, before even considering mine.” He slumped back in his chair, and rubbed two fingers over his lips while looking off into the small courtyard garden.
“Fede, I have made my decision. But I wanted to talk to you about it, I owe that to you. You have made my time here so memorable, so fantastic, so filled with love that I wouldn't even consider not including you in this.”
“Is there anything I can do to make you stay? Do you want me to ask you to be my girlfriend? To tell you I love you? To move in with me? Let me know what you need from me to reconsider this decision” He began to get frustrated with me, pulling the cap off of his head and running his fingers through his hair.
“That’s exactly it Fede! I don’t want to ask you to do that, you should ask me to be your girlfriend on your own! I don't want you to tell me you love me if you think that's what I want to hear - I want you to feel like you love me! I don’t need anyone to tell me what I want to hear, what I want to hear is what you truly feel. And if there is something i have learnt about you in the last few years is that you can’t hold back your feelings with anything! If you were in love with me it would have burst from you a long time ago. I think that you do love me Fede, but as someone to come home to instead of no one at all.”
“You know Fede, i don’t have any regrets over this. You mean just as much to me now as you did the very first time we crossed that boundary and blurred the lines. You’re just my type, you only call me late at night, you can’t decide if you’ll be your own man or mine. I hate to say it, but you really are just my type. This decision has nothing to do with you, it’s something i have come to make all on my own.”
I had stood up now, looking down at the 27 year old. I needed him to understand exactly what I was saying, how serious I was. This was the moment I could get it all off my chest, instead of just letting the relationship play out on his terms.
“I leave on Friday, I let the club know this morning. There's nothing that can be done now Fede, this is my decision. Please respect it, and me”
He stood up, his almost 6’1” frame towering over me. Looking down, face of steel, I could see everything I needed behind his eyes.
“hai ragione ti amo Solo non nel modo in cui meriti di essere amato” (you're right, i do love you. Just not in the way you deserve to be loved). He pulled me into his chest, both arms wrapping around the back of my shoulders, left hand holding my head in the crook of his neck. My arms wrapped around his back from below his arms, holding him tight enough that they crossed over and I could grab the sides of his rib cage. This was the closure I needed.
“I’ll give Jorginho a call and make sure he looks out for you”
“How do you know what club I'm going to?”
“I saw the way your eyes sparkled when you mentioned its name, it was the same sparkle that used to come out when you said mine…”
Part 8. | parte otto
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broadstbroskis · 3 years
Text
the wedding date | morgan rielly
a/n: well first things first, i’m gonna give a shoutout to myself, because i started this fucking thing back in august and it’s finally completed (that’s right, it took me 7 months to write just under 5k, shhh, it finally came together). 
anyway, since i started this back in august, you can tell i’ve had this idea for a while. it’s morphed and changed a bit but the basic premise has stayed the same- you go home with morgan for a wedding and everyone thinks that you’re the girl he’s been dating for the last few years- so i hope you all enjoy! (also i’m sorry i suck at titles but like i’m not)
a special shoutout to these lovely people who have listened to me whine about this at any point over the last SEVEN MONTHS and some fellow mo lovers because you’re all amazing and i love you, @denis-scorianov, @brockadoodles, @danglesnipecelly, @laurenairay, @hockeyboysiguess
-----
When Morgan approaches you, with what you’ll later learn is only his first attempt to ask you something, you don’t even give him the chance, really. “Hey, what are you doing this summer?”
“Not you.” You quip back, grinning cheekily, ignoring the barks of laughter from Matthews and Marner beside him.
“Haha.” Morgan deadpans, but it’s busy that night at the bar, Saturday night after a Leafs win, and you’ve really got to get back to work now that you’ve finished serving them, so you’re already walking away from him.
The second time it happens is a Friday night, a few weeks later, when you’re out with some friends for the first time all semester. It’s late enough that you’re feeling just on the right side of tipsy, you’re drunk enough that you know you’re going to go home with the guy you shouldn’t, and you’re okay with both of those things. 
At least, tonight you are. Tomorrow morning will be a different story.
And then, Morgan stops you at the bar. “Hey.”
“Hey!” You grin back...and then it slowly fades as he just hems and haws. “What’s up?”
“I-” He blows out a frustrated groan.
Your eyebrows raise. You’ve known Morgan for years now, since his first season with Leafs had been right about when you started working at the bar for some extra cash after realizing just how expensive school was getting and grad school would be beyond that. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen him at such a loss for words. “Alright, well if you can’t think of it now, get back to me later, okay?”
“Wait-” He says, so you give him a minute or two, but there’s still nothing.
“Ok, I love you, but this is my one night out before my dissertation is due later this spring.” You tell him, reaching out for a hug. “You have my number and you know where to find me.”
“Ok.” Morgan smiles a little. “Have fun tonight.” And then you slink away from him, back in the direction of your friends, ready to let loose one last time before the craziness sets in.
The night that Morgan finally gets his question out is a quiet one in the middle of the week. He settles himself into the corner, doing his best to be discrete with a hat covering his face. By the time you and your coworker get everyone settled with drinks and you make your way over to him, he’s caught the attention of one older man, who immediately walks back to his girlfriend when you arrive at Morgan’s section of the bar.
“Well finally.” He’s free of all teammates, a rarity but not unheard of, especially this late in the season. “What’s a guy gotta do to get some service around here?”
“Oh sorry!” You tease. “Did I interrupt something here? Did you want me to call that guy back up so you guys could finish up?”
He flattens you with a look. “Don’t you dare.”
You giggle, leaning down against the bar in front of him. You know how much he loves the Toronto fanbase, but as playoffs approach, the fans are becoming more vocal and more forward with their thoughts. “You want another drink?”
He looks down at his glass, contemplates for a minute, and then nods, so you return quickly with a new beer for him and then smile as you watch him take a large gulp of it. “So what’s new?”
“Ehh loaded question.” He says cryptically. You give him a look. “But hey, you’re here on a Wednesday! You done with your...dissertation?” He trails off hesitantly, smiling at himself when you nod.
“Yup. I should know next week if I’m all clear.”
“And then?” He prompts.
“And then you can call me doctor, asshole.” You tease.
“I mean, Dr. Asshole isn’t what I would have gone with as my first choice, but if that’s what you want…”
“Morgan!” You laugh, ducking your head at the lame joke.
He’s grinning when you meet his eyes again, pleased as always that he could make someone laugh. “But seriously, that’s awesome! I’m excited for you.”
“Thanks.” You grin.
“What’s your next step then?”
“Umm I get to start researching infectious diseases for money.” You tell him excitedly, since you’d accepted a job with the University of Toronto’s medical research facilities. “But it doesn’t start until August.”
You’d expected Morgan to tease you about your excitement of infectious disease-something he and his teammates (among many other people you know) have done multiple times before-but instead, he perks up and says, “So you’d be free, on say, the weekend of July 8th?”
“Why?” You ask suspiciously. Experience has told you not to immediately say yes to this.
Morgan sighs. “Look. I need a date for a wedding back home that weekend.”
“And I’m the best you could come up with?”
“Best?” Morgan repeats. “You are funny, you’re pretty, you’re a doctor, all of which, frankly, puts you well out my league.”
“You’re not wrong.” You agree cheerfully, which puts the smile back on Morgan’s face, as you’d hoped. “But that doesn’t explain why you’d need a date to this wedding.”
The smile fades quickly and you wince. “I was supposed to go with Laura.”
You frown. “What happened to Laura?” Last you’d heard, the two of them were solid. Really solid. Headed for a wedding themselves, solid.
“She wasn’t who I thought she was.” He says flatly.
You wince. “I’m sorry, Mo.”
He shrugs. “It’s over and done with now.” You send him a reassuring smile. “So will you come?”
Well, there’s really no way you can say no now and not feel like an asshole. “Sure.”
The grin returns to his face. “Knew you’d come through for me.”
-----
Morgan rolls up to the airport in Vancouver to pick you up in a very fancy looking Jeep, a far cry from the sporty Porsche he drives in Toronto, and you call him out on it immediately. “I see how it is. You go home and you’re a fancy country boy, not a fancy city boy?”
He laughs. “Fuck off.”
“Gladly.” You tell him, grinning teasingly. “Drop me off at departures, will ya?”
His tone immediately turns serious. “Thank you. Seriously. Thanks for coming.”
Your smile remains on your face, still beaming over at him. “It was nothing, Mo.” It wasn’t, really, and you both know it. You’d quit your bar job a couple weeks early because of this, but you were happy to do this for him. He’d been down about Laura, down about being bounced from the playoffs again. This spring had been rough on him and you were more than happy to do your part to cheer up one of your closest friends.
Morgan hmms, in a way like he’s pretending to be casual about it, but he changes the subject as he switches lanes to pull onto the highway.
-----
Morgan has a whole itinerary for the next few days, prior to the wedding, but promises he’ll take you around to some of his favorite spots before you leave late next week. A quiet night tonight, dinner with his parents and brother tomorrow, and then the wedding stuff began the following day.
Much like his fancy Jeep, his fancy house in Vancouver is also nothing like the condo he owns in Toronto. You wouldn’t go so far as to say that his condo is...edgy, but it’s pretty modern? The house here in Vancouver is larger, sure, but reminds you a lot of the house you grew up in...or well, a larger and fancier version of it.
“Gonna give me a tour?” You turn to Morgan, who’s standing next to you almost awkwardly, as you look up at the beautiful house in front of you. Your bags are still in his hands, and you nudge his arm playfully, reaching for one, but he won’t let you grab it, smiling back at you as he starts to lead you in.
The inside is just as nice, and even though it’s clear that his mom and interior decorator have done a lot of work on it, there’s still a lot of Mo touches too. Each one makes you smile, the ones he points out in his tour and the ones that he doesn’t, until he finally leads you upstairs, dropping your things in one of the spare rooms. “Did I-“
“If the next words out of your mouth are say thank you, I’m walking out of this house.” You warn him.
“-ask what you want to do for dinner tonight?” Morgan finishes lamely and you laugh.
“That sushi place you always hype up?”
Morgan smiles. “Anything you want.” He says, and then, instead of the thank you that you know he wants to say, he pulls you in for a hug and squeezes tightly, before letting go. “Change and we’ll go?”
“Shower, change, and we’ll go.” You correct, dying to get the feel of airplane off you. “45 minutes.”
Morgan looks at you knowingly. “Sure, uh huh.” He says, nodding like he knows it’ll be much closer to an hour, an hour and fifteen, and you laugh, shoving at his shoulder before he makes you want to stretch it out to an hour and a half on purpose.
-----
Morgan’s parents might be the nicest people in the world, but they’re also a little...odd? Like, you’re not trying to be mean, because just like Morgan, they truly are the absolute sweetest, but, like, they just keep smiling at you with this knowing smile, like they know something that you don’t and it’s just...weird.
But they welcome you with open arms, when the two of you show up to dinner on your second night in town, hugging you just as tightly as they hug their own son, maybe even tighter than they hug the son who still lives in the same province as them. 
“We’re so excited to finally meet you!” Morgan’s mom gushes, once you get settled in their kitchen with a glass of wine, which at least explains the weirdness a little. “
“You guys too.” You admit. You’ve heard so much about them, his parents and brother, over the years of friendship with Morgan; it’s nice to finally put faces to names, to stories. “Thanks for having me tonight.” Next to you, Morgan nudges you, a grin on his face. You can practically hear him. Stop saying thank you, like you’ve been saying to him for the past day. 
“Oh stop!” She says, practically in time with his nudge. “Morgan tells us you’re a doctor now!” It’s said with pride, like you may as well be one of her own children who’s done something great.
“Yeah!” You smile, swirling the wine around a little, and then, because you don’t want there to be any confusion. “Not that kind of doctor; you should still call 911 if something happens.”
His dad laughs and his mom beams. “What kind of doctor then?” His dad asks, and you spend a while talking with his parents about epidemiology and your dissertation- his mom, it turns out, works in a similar field, and it isn’t long before the two of you are rolling your eyes about some research that just came out.
“What?” You ask Morgan, laughing, when your conversation breaks out, and she has to go check on dinner, at his dad’s request, before he burns it all entirely.
“I just forgot how excited you get about infectious diseases.”
“Can’t believe you’ve been out here this whole time knowing that your mom and I both exist and haven’t introduced us.” You announce. “The rudeness, the hearsay.”
“I don’t think that’s how that word’s used.” Morgan cackles.
“Oh, sorry, are you a doctor?”
“That doesn’t have anything to do with knowing how that word is used!” He protests, laughing.
You ignore him. “If you even think of keeping her from me when they come to Toronto…”
He wraps his arm around your shoulders and squeezes. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
-----
“Are you ready yet?” Morgan calls, and you take one last look in the mirror on the wall, smoothing the pleats in your dress. “We’re going to be late!”
“But it’s gonna be worth it!” You sing-song as you descend the stairs to meet him in the living room.
“Is it ev-” He cuts off abruptly, eyes wide and swallowing visibly as he cuts off. “Wow, okay then.”
“Worth it.” You wink at him, brushing past him to grab your purse. 
Morgan’s laughing as he picks up his keys, this soft and gentle thing that you can’t help but smile at. “Yeah, I should’ve known it would be.”
“You’ll know better for tomorrow!” You tease, and breeze past him to get in the car.
The ride to his cousin’s rehearsal dinner isn’t far, spent mostly laughing as you keep switching the station from anything Morgan changes it back to. By the time you arrive at the restaurant, you’re both giggling as you enter, flagged down almost immediately by Morgan’s mom.
“Look at you two!” She gushes.
“Mom.” Morgan says dryly. “Come on.”
She smiles at him indulgently. “Make sure you say hi to your cousin.” 
“Yeah, of course.” Morgan nods, grabbing your hand to pull you away. “Just after we hit the bar.” He mutters and you giggle.
His cousin, the bride, and her husband-to-be seem to have the same idea, and it’s just as you’re turning away, wine glasses in hand, that you nearly run into them.
“Oh!” Ashley beams excitedly, once Morgan introduces you. “Hi!”
“Congratulations!” You return the excitement. She’s so bubbly and bright; it’s easy to do, even though you don’t know her. “You guys look so great tonight; you’re going blow us all away tomorrow.”
“She’s going to blow me away tomorrow.” Dylan jokes, but you can tell by the twinkle in his eye that he’s entirely serious.
“Oh stop.” Ashley knocks his arm. “And you too,” She gestures at you. “You look amazing! How’d you do your hair like that?”
“This?” She nods and you walk her through it quickly; it’s a look that’s so much more simple than it looks and she’s gasping by the time you’re done. 
“Ok, mhmm.” She nods. “I’m getting your number from Morgan later so you can go over that with me again because I’m definitely going to forget.”
Morgan flicks a piece of your hair. “It’s a hairstyle, what could you possibly forget?”
You and Ashley exchange a look. “I got you.” You reassure her as you both laugh at him.
“Men, honestly.” She shakes her head, as Morgan and Dylan protest, but then before you and Ashley can talk any more, she and Dylan are being called away, and there’s promises for you all to catch up tomorrow at the wedding.
“You can’t have her phone number unless you promise not to talk about me.” Morgan says.
“Fat chance.” You tell him. “But nice try.”
From there, you start making your way back to his parents, stopping off to chat quickly with relatives he recognizes (and once, ducking purposefully into a small crowd to avoid an aunt he doesn’t want to see). You feel like it shouldn’t be surprising how nice his family is, given how genuine Morgan is, but each person you meet welcomes you so warmly, with kind words and open arms. 
“You must talk about me a lot.” You tease, as you two start making your way to your table.
Morgan shrugs. “More than I’d realized apparently.” You cackle and he laughs; it’s familiar and easy, but then you’re easily distracted by the appetizers coming to the table and fighting Morgan for extra of your favorites-also familiar and easy.
-----
It’s another morning of Morgan waiting impatiently for you, being rewarded with his gaping jaw dropped, and teasing him the entire ride to the wedding, before he easily gets his revenge when you tear up at the ceremony.
“You don’t even know these people!” He nudges you forward toward his cousin in the reception line right after the ceremony. “And you’re going to cry like that?”
“It was a beautiful ceremony!” You defend. You’d been right yesterday; Ashley had easily blown everyone away from the moment she’d entered the room. Their vows were incredible; you didn’t understand how anyone wasn’t crying.
Morgan snickers, nudging you forward again. “God, what do you do at weddings you actually know the people at?” He pauses as you both step closer another, like the idea has just come to him. “Oh man, what are going to do at your own wedding?”
“Bawl my eyes out, obviously.” You say dryly. “Tell my future husband to bring tissues.” You move up, next in line for Ashley and Dylan. “You clearly didn’t get the message.”
“What’d you do?” Ashley pokes him; you guess whoever was in front of you was a guest she didn’t know all that well because they’ve moved along pretty quickly.
“Me? I’d never.” Morgan says innocently, ducking down to kiss her cheek.
“I’m just giving him a hard time.” You agree and she grins, shocking you when she pulls you in for a hug. 
“He probably deserves it.” She says cheerfully.
“Wow, I see family loyalty goes a long way here, huh.” Morgan deadpans.
Ashley gives him a look. “Not for much longer, I guess, though?” She nudges him.
“Oh I see how it is, you’ve been married for all of five minutes and suddenly Dylan’s family is better than ours?” Morgan teases.
Ashley blinks. “That is...not how I meant that at all.” She says, but before she can say anything else to you, the couple behind the two of you starts sighing impatiently, and you all realize how long you’ve been talking for. You quickly congratulate her and then move along to Dylan as well, before stepping out of line and moving towards the reception area.
The bridal party was quick to get the reception started after the ceremony, so when you and Morgan make your way over, there’s already a decent sized group chatting and drinking. You both grab drinks from the bar and make your way to a group of his cousins, chatting for a while and laughing along as they’re sure to include you in all of their jokes.
When it comes time to start making your way to your table for dinner, you excuse yourself to the bathroom quickly, running into Morgan’s grandmother when you’re there, who had the same idea as you it seems.
She lights up when she sees you fixing your hair in the mirror, stepping up to wash her hands. “It looks great.” She assures you and you smile, thanking her. “Are you having a good time?”
You nod, following her out so the two of you can make your way back to the reception. “Such a good time! Everyone’s been amazing and Ashley and Dylan are beautiful; it’s been a great weekend!”
“It’ll be great to be all be here again,” Morgan’s grandmother smiles at you and you return it politely. “Next summer.” She adds, like an afterthought, and you shrug. She’d know better than you what the upcoming engagements look like. You can barely remember the names of the people you’re seated with tonight.
“If Morgan brings me back then.” You throw her a finger gun and she laughs-loudly.
“Oh, you’re a trip!” She nudges you gently, laughing. “Such a doll. Let’s get another glass of wine together before we go back, shall we?”
“I will never say no to that.” You’re pretty sure you still have a couple minutes to spare before you need to sit down. 
His grandmother links arms with you. “My kinda gal.” She beams and her smile is contagious, just like Morgan’s is when he’s really happy, so it’s not hard to grin along with her as she tugs you along for another glass of rosé.
-----
The evening’s winding down- the wedding long over and the after party beginning to do so as well. Almost all of the older relatives have made their way home or to their hotel rooms but there’s a few sloppy cousins and friends still going hard (you’ve got some serious concerns how the one groomsman is even going to make it upstairs). Ashley and Dylan keep stealing glances at each other, like they’re wondering if it’s late enough for them to sneak away yet, but each time they look like they’re going to, someone calls for another toast.
Morgan nudges you. “Hey.” He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a couple cigars. “Outside with me?”
You think about it for a second. Usually, you love a good cigar-and you’re sure that Morgan’s managed to acquire a good one- but tonight? “Not really in the mood, but I’ll come out.”
He grins, a little crooked, and offers his hand to help you up from the couch the two of you have been sitting on. Outside, the weather is beautiful, one of those crystal clear nights with a light breeze where you feel like you could be outside for hours. He lights the cigar while you continue to sip at your wine, the two of you standing in comfortable silence, until the door opens again.
“Cigars without me?” His brother grumbles. “I see how it is now.”
“Yup, just left you behind on purpose.” Morgan says shamelessly, but he’s already pulling the spare out of his pocket and handing it over.
“Unsurprising.”
“Yeah?” Morgan asks, amusedly. “Why’s that?” 
His brother gives him a look, and then, when Morgan doesn’t react, looks over at you, but you just shrug. “Just promise you won’t forget about me once you pop the question.”
You choke on your drink; Morgan looks just as shocked, the cigar halfway to his mouth. “What?” He says finally.
For the first time, his brother looks unsure. “I think...we all just thought...once you brought her home, that was the only thing holding you back?”
“Oh my god.” Morgan says breathlessly.
“I’m not-” You add helplessly. “We’re not-”
“Oh.” His brother winces. “Wait, so you’re not…” He trails off and the silence between the three of you becomes so thick it’s almost palpable. You don’t know what to do, what to say. What he even means. “You’re not together?” He says finally, sounding like he’d rather be anywhere else, doing anything else.
You can relate. You shake your head slowly, notice Morgan’s doing the same out of the corner of your eye.
“Um.” His brother continues. “And-and you haven’t been-together?” Another head shake. “Wow. A lot of people are going to be very disappointed.”
“A lot of people?” Morgan repeats. “Who...who all thinks this?” But you don’t need an answer to know and apparently, he doesn’t either. The silence thickens somehow; you didn’t think it was possible. 
“Um.” His brother’s already backing away, even as he speaks. “I’m gonna go now. Before I say anything else to make this worse.”
He’s gone before you can tell him you’re not sure that’s possible, leaving you and Morgan in the loudest silence you’ve ever experienced. 
It’s abundantly clear Morgan feels it too, from the way he won’t even meet your eyes, will barely even look at you, actually. And there’s so much to say here, but well, “You never brought Laura to meet your family? Never let them meet her at home?” Apparently, they really weren’t as serious as you’d thought.
Morgan laughs hollowly, finally meeting your eyes. “That probably should have been a clue, huh?”
“A little bit of a red flag.” You agree. It’d been how many years? Morgan’s tight with his family, that much you knew before you’d come out here and only became clearer as you met them. “Why...why didn’t you ever introduce them?”
Morgan sighs. “I think-I always knew something wasn’t right. And I just didn’t want to admit it?” He sighs again. “I shouldn’t have brought you into this.”
“You didn’t know.” You tell him gently. “And I wanted to come.” You remind him. “I was happy to!” You pause for a second. “I was happy to come across the country to a wedding with you and your family with barely a second thought. So maybe we both need to re-examine what happened here this weekend.”
“Maybe we don’t.” Morgan says simply.
“What?” You frown, confused.
“You were happy to fly across the country for a wedding with me and my family.” Morgan repeats, with a small smile on his face. “And then you come here and meet my entire family, and they think I’m ready to propose to you, because you're the girl they hear me talk about all the time.” Your jaw drops-is he saying...what you think he’s saying-and his smile grows into a grin. “I think this thing between us has been more than either of us have been able to admit because we’ve had other things going on- school or hockey or-”
“Other girlfriends?” You supply teasingly, when he trails off, like he’s afraid to mention her name.
He nods. “There’ve been other boyfriends, too.” He nudges you, just as teasing.
“There have.” You admit, because it’s not a lie, but none of them have ever worked out, for a variety of reasons, but you can’t help but think, that now that he’s mentioning it, Morgan might have been a part of those other reasons.
He’s back to smiling again when he continues, leaning against you slightly. “I think we owe it to ourselves to see what we could be.”
You lean back against him. “You do, do you?”
“I do.” He nods.
“Little early for that, don’t you think?” It takes a second for your joke to land, but once it does, he cracks up and it brings a smile to your face. 
“We are at a wedding.” He grins, nudging you playfully. “Who knows, maybe someday it’ll be ours?”
-----
a bit in the future
It’s one of those beautiful sunny days where the sun is shining with a light breeze where you feel like you could be outside for hours. 
Unfortunately, you’ve got a huge project due at the end of the week, so while Morgan’s been enjoying the lake all day, you’ve been sitting at a table on the dock, staring at your laptop, tapping away at your keyboard, and ignoring his increasingly annoying calls for attention.
It’s harder to ignore when he comes up next to you, wrapping his wet arms around your shoulders. “Morgan.” You try to shake him off. “Come on, gimme like ten minutes and then I’ll come in.”
“Promise?” He asks.
“Yes.” You say because if you can get this one last thing done you’ll be ahead of your goal for the day.
It works; Morgan sits down next to you quietly, scrolling through his phone for a bit, and then, jumps up and runs inside the cabin, and you jump on the opportunity of quiet to get ahead even further, losing yourself in your next bit of project.
“Hey,” Morgan says casually, and it scares you a bit, his return far quieter than he’s been all day. “What are you doing the weekend of July 8th?”
“I don’t know, that’s like a year away!.” You snap, turning to tell him to stop annoying you, only for your jaw to drop when you see him down on one knee.
“Want to get married then?” He says, a twinkle in his eye and a grin on his face, like he’s been waiting for this reaction, like it was everything and more.
“Oh my god! Are you serious?” He slips his hand into his pocket and pulls out a ring; you gasp. “Morgan!”
“Will you marry me?”
“Yes, oh my god, yes!” Your computer long forgotten in the face of an engagement ring, you throw yourself at Morgan, who catches you easily, like he was prepared for this. He probably was. He knows you better than anyone; he’s your best friend and so much more. He barely manages to slip the ring on your finger before you’re kissing him. “I love you!”
“I love you, too.” He grins. “Are you sure you’re ready to take this jump with me?”
“Of course!” You beam, but it hits you just a minute too late. He’s already jumping in the water. “You’re the worst.” You sputter out at him, purposefully spitting lake water at his face. 
He doesn’t even look like he minds. “For better or worse.” He grins.
“That’s not what that’s referring to!” You splash him and he splashes back but before it can devolve into a full on splash attack, he’s pulling you into his arms.
“I mean it though.” He says, kissing you again. “And I’ll tell you again, next summer, at our wedding.”
Our wedding. The words sound almost unreal, too good to be true. “I’ll be the one in white.” You promise. “Or, well, maybe ivory.” You say and it’s hard to kiss Morgan then when he’s laughing so hard.
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choiwrites · 3 years
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kth | wolfgirl (m.)
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Words: 10k  Genre: twlight!au, it’s new moon but taetae as jacob, ur bella but you have a personality :o, oh also smut and a little angst Warnings: no protection and no fcks given, language ig?, descriptive seggs lol, vampires and all that bs if that triggers sum of yall, oral (f receiving), tae is younger than u and kind of a sub (dom tae is overdone we need change in this country) i cant think no more no thots hed mt Rating: 18+ Song: Iron & Wine - Flightless Bird, American Mouth Summary:  During your stay at your Aunt's house in the wet town of Forks, you never thought the boys next door will change your perspective in how you see the world.
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The weather in Washington was something you’re not used to. You can never go places without getting mud on your shoes and it takes more than your patience to clean them every time before going out. Sure, it was great to experience a different weather other than the blazing sun in Los Angeles, but it was hard to adjust. You weren’t ready for it with all the sleeveless and loose tops you brought from Los Angeles.
After months of debating with your mom, you decided it would be a great way to spend your summer vacation turning your camera focus into something more dark and cloudy. Your professor had also suggested that it would look good in your portfolio if you try different moods in photos other than the hot weather in Angeles. So, you thought about it for months before asking your mom to buy you tickets to see your Aunt Sylvia who you're currently living with for the meantime.
She was in her mid-thirties, but she looked younger than her real age. She knew how to groom and with the way she looks, she probably had that life during her high school days. You rarely see her though, you can remember all the conversations you both had. She leaves home early for her duty at the police station as an attending desk officer. Her place wasn't big, an average suburban house painted in cold tones of white and gray with dark furniture inside. It's not your typical definition of cozy. Good thing you brought your two sweaters — one with a Christmas tree embroidered on it and one with the phrase "'tis the season!" Wearing a sweater in Los Angeles only means one thing, and that is the season of giving. But who cares, it's not like anyone was going to notice, right?
About to finish the second cup of black tea, an idea pops into your mind about what Sylvia had said about the landscapes nearby the house. However, she had warned you about the risks of a few wild coyote appearances, but one could call you a junkie. There’s no fun in danger, but dangerous does rhyme with adventurous.
A cool whip of breeze enters the thin fabric of your sweater, immediately regretting stepping out of the doorstep after locking the door. As you are approaching the back of the house to enter the woods, young laughters echo through the area, lessening your fear for a bit. It must be safe if a group of teenagers are hanging out in such a secluded forest.
Unbothered by the noises, whether they were from teenagers or not, you make your way further into the woods of coppery branches on the endless verdant ground with subtle eau de nils. It’s like walking into a surreal three-dimensional render of a forest, too perfect to be right in front of your eyes.
It was quiet and serene in the woods. Aside from birds chirping, it felt like out of this world. It was an alien planet. Everything was green — the moss surrounding the place, every tree had some sort of fungi beneath it, the soil dark brown as if staring right into the earth’s eyes. The very healthy kind of earthy, and it was easier to breathe in the forest than it was in the city of Los Angeles. No wonder why they're both on the opposite sides of the country. They're literally poles apart. Being at Forks, it's as if you were able to be in a different country. It was secluded, unlike in Angeles, there are people in every place you go.
While changing the film of the camera, a strong gust of wind on your left side. So strong that your body stumbled onto the ground. You were on your knees, camera shattered as it hits a hard medium-sized rock. You break a couple of curses to the wind.
The camera looked hopeless with lenses separated from it, lying in pieces against a rock.
"What the hell was that?" 
There had to be some kind of a fast animal that ran from your side, which quickens your pulse, but the devastation you felt for the camera overthrew that fear. When you caught a glimpse of the 'wind,' it was human-like. It ran around in every direction surrounding you,  freezing you into place. The only thing you were able to do was to keep watching the human-like creature run in circles like lightning. You tried standing up, but it approached you in a rapid current that you fell into place again. But you couldn't see it, you weren't able to look into its eyes.
"You shouldn't be out here alone,” behind you says.
You whimper, embarrassed when the deep voice sends hums into your nerves.. 
"Why didn't you run?" He looks at you with knitted brows as he approaches to help you get on your feet. He’s far too attractive to be a wild coyote, you slap that stupid thought away.
"I... I didn't know what to do,” you force out, still affected by the broken camera and creeping fear.
He was around four inches taller than you. He looked about your age. Dark thick hair, with light brown irides inside his almond-shaped eyes. His skin was of a rich walnut tan, and his dark green hoodie complements that. 
"You must be Sylvia's niece. I'm Taehyung,” he said in a sultry manner as he offered a hand for a handshake.
"How do you kno-"
"She told us. My family's close with Sylvia. Our mothers used to be best friends, y/n." He puts his hand back in the pocket of his hoodie.
A tinge of embarrassment brushes through your cheeks, feeling guilty that you didn't give him a handshake. But all of that is ignored when he smiles.
"Did I creep you out?"
You chuckle softly. "No, of course not. I'm just still in the moment... of processing." You ease him, as if you were able to read the tension in his undecipherable eyes.
There was a few seconds of silence before Taehyung spoke again when he noticed your camera on the ground.
"Hey, we have a technician at home, maybe he has some tools he could help you with."
He was absolutely gorgeous. You find yourself lost in his face, studying his features and every little action he does. He would look so good as a muse. If only you could capture him right now, he'd be perfect under the clouds that create shadows that contour his cheeks and makes his eyes even more mysterious.
"Don't worry, you can trust me. Sylvia knows where I live,” he adds. 
Though that doesn't really solve the problem, you find yourself walking with Taehyung in the woods, drifting away from the devastation and fear from earlier. 
The laughters were from them. The laughs you heard earlier before entering the woods were from Taehyung's friends. They confirmed that they were walking around the woods earlier and that they passed by your house. All looking friendly with similar doe eyes, almost like they were relatives. They were all in a circle, all of them sitting on a chunk of thick logs, dressed in a similar way. The men were younger than you, but there is a girl who's older than you. She didn't seem as friendly as the others as you notice the judging glances towards your way. She had shoulder length of hair and she was just as tan as Taehyung. Taehyung discussed each of them one by one to you, all of them introducing themselves in an endearing manner except for her. Only saying her name was Leah and that was it, which made you feel an ounce of intimidation.
"So, y/n, how long do you plan to stay?" Embry, the one with the shortest hair, asks as he plays with the two twigs he'd been digging up dirt with the moment you arrived. His color was a tad bit darker than the others. He had a grin that could steal every girl's heart. He was gorgeous. They were all just as gorgeous as Taehyung.
"Oh, one month. I have a college application to fix back home,” you answered surely. You were only here to take photos for your college portfolio, and making friends was out of the picture until today.
"Sucks for Tae, I had a feeling you could be more than a willing candidate to be his girlfriend." Everybody laughed except for you and Tae who exchanged awkward glances at each other.
"Stop it, Bry." Taehyung wanted to laugh along but embarrassment got the best of him.
"She looks so out of place. You probably party a lot in Los Angeles, don't you?" Leah gives you a stern look, seriously waiting for your response. She only wants to get a reaction from you and you weren’t the only one to get the feeling as the group feels the rising tension between the both of you.
"No, I don't go to parties. Mom is very strict." You tell her. You didn't want the group to feel that you were intimidated, after all, you wanted to befriend everyone.
"She'd be perfect for our overnight tomorrow then." She prickly grins.
"Right! Want to join us in La Push? It's the nearest beach out here. We'll have bonfires and such," Seth, the youngest one with the tiniest body (still bigger than yours), expresses in excitement. Out of all of them, Seth was the friendliest. 
"I'll go talk to Sylvia for you, if you want." Taehyung raises his brows. He had been laughing quietly ever since he had brought you to meet his friends - which seems like he regrets, additionally. He was more mysterious than you thought. He didn't share much of his life during the discussion, only three things: his last name was Kim, he’s 20 years old, and he lives at the rez along with the rest of the team.
"Sure. I'll just bring my other camera." You smiled.
Taehyung said that he'll get Chase, a friend of his who wasn’t part of the circle, to fix the broken film camera. He assured that it will only be a matter of three days before the camera is all yours again. After a few more useless fun discussions, you had forgotten that the sun had settled for a while. When Taehyung realizes your face of worry, he offers to give you a ride home. Great, a ride with the wild coyote who had immediately earned your trust by rising a brow. You wouldn’t be so shocked if you end up ‘missing’ in the news in the next hours.
He owned a Chevy pick up truck. It was red, but faded, making it seem vermillion in color. It had a few dents and you were sure that it wasn't one of the smoothest rides you've ever had. But Taehyung made a few jokes about how he feels uneasy with the truck as well, only to reveal that it has been with him ever since his birth.
"It's great. Very retro." You gave him a smile to let him know that he doesn't need to feel embarrassed with his truck.
"Shut up, Y/N. I know it sucks, okay. I can't even play a single song here without a static." He laughs and you admit it.
He gave a charming wave to your window and had a small chat with Sylvia, who’s been home for hours, before leaving, probably about the La Push trip for tomorrow. Once you've changed into your pyjamas, Sylvia knocks on your door as you are about to settle in bed.
"Tae told me about the La Push camping tomorrow,” she began.
"Are you gonna let me?"
She smiles in an assuring way. You can't deny how lovely she looked with her hair down, her waves framing her heart-shaped face. "Of course, honey. You better wake up early tomorrow. Tae told me that he'll pick you up by seven." She winks and rubs your shoulder before heading downstairs.
A beach trip in a cloudy town without bringing any hoodies with you? Sounds about perfect, if you’re looking for a hypothermia attack. And you were never a morning person either so it’s a big mystery why you even agreed to go in the first place. The waking time in Los Angeles was ten in the morning. In Forks, it was seven. 
When Taehyung arrived, he was wearing a black shirt and a black leather jacket, pairing it with slightly oversized pants. He looked bigger than yesterday, maybe it was the jacket that made him look buff. He waved softly before you even stepped out of the doorway. He was carrying a medium-sized paper bag with small wet stains.
"My sister made us breakfast. Just in case you didn't have enough time to prepare," he opens the car door for you and waved to Sylvia goodbye, "thought you'd take more time because you probably wake up late in the city."
“I’m somehow a little offended with that assumption,” you cooed and he replied with a stammering laugh, unsure whether to take it as a joke or not.
He fumbled with the stereo and it played better than yesterday, giving you a sloppy smile as the first chords of Creep by Radiohead plays.
"You fixed it?" You take a bite from the sandwich his sister prepared. You thank God his sister prepared it for you, your stomach would be growling by now.
"Yeah. I just didn't want us to have that awkward silence along the way." He breathily laughs.
Everything Taehyung has is beautiful. He had an amazing laugh, a deep sultry voice, and doe eyes. He's simply astonishing. You were sure that everyone he has met so far had fallen in love with him. You weren't one to deny that either.
It took around fifteen songs before the both of you arrived at the beach — thanks to Taehyung's amazing playlist. It was quiet, the weather didn't change much in the place. Still cold and dark, untouched by a glimpse of sunrise. It was windier than the rest of Forks, and you wore your Christmas sweater to at least help with the cold a bit.
It was weird to say, but Taehyung radiated heat whenever you were near him. It's like when you're not around Taehyung, you feel the coldness of Forks. His truck didn't even feel cold though his air conditioning was on, you just felt a sense of unfamiliar comfortable heat you found yourself curling in your seat minutes ago. The group welcomed the both of you except for Leah of course. Sooner or later, you knew you'd start to hate her.
"You guys are early,” you tell Embry and Paul as they greet you with warm hugs.
"Of course, we are. It's La Push, baby." Embry gives you a wink and you blush.
"Okay, Bry, I haven't had my breakfast and you're already winking." Paul fake puked and the rest of the group laughs.
They started setting up tents as Taehyung offered to take your bag when he noticed how it's weighing you down. Before he could put it in the tent, you took your digital camera and started roaming around by yourself to take pictures of the view. Astounding as you had expected. It's like you were in the middle of nowhere. Only Taehyung's friends were at the beach which was a lucky shot for you and the group.
"Set up the fire, Tae! We're having breakfast." Leah yells across the place as she places the logs in the middle of the circle the tents are built in.
Taehyung sighs loudly. "Get ready for the Quileute Tribe stories." 
"You seem tired of it, you joked.
While Taehyung builds a fire with the rest of the boys, you secretly take pictures of him busy as the both of you keep talking.
"It's always the story every camping day. The Quileute Legends, you know? The scary stuff." 
You knit your brows when the word ‘scary’ comes into play, bringing your camera down to take a better look at the almost sweaty Taehyung.
"Scary stuff? How scary? Thrill me." You weren't aware as to how much Taehyung also studies your features. He wanted to know you better, but he was afraid of scaring you away by asking too many questions. It had always been his issue, scaring people away from him. And this time, he didn't want to let you in like the others, he just wanted to be acquaintances. But the more he spends time with you, the more he wants to be near you as if there were magnets pulling you together.
"I don't know what would thrill you, y/n. But the world is darker than you think, it's not always safe." He gives you a look. It was impossible. You were five feet away from him, but you could almost see your reflection in his eyes. It was too comforting. You were devoured by his eyes, falling steadily into his charms.
"I know. It's just as scary in L.A., I mean," you gulped, "crime is everywhere. Can't really stop it." You explained.
"It's not always crime that's scary, y/n. I'm talking unexplainable things." He smirks.
"Like paranormal?" You gaze away from him, starting to take pictures of the beach. But no matter how hard you try to distract yourself from Taehyung, your eyes keep falling on him.
"More than paranormal. Ghosts are easier to believe in."
You inhaled sharply. "I mean those are just legends, right? What's with the obsession in the Qui-Quileute Tribe?" You struggled pronouncing the word.
"It's not me. It's a tradition." There was a moment of silence before you could think of what to say again.
"Delete my pictures by the way." He scoffed.
"I thought you didn't notice."
"I was posing." 
You laugh at his joke, still certain you're never deleting any of his pictures, most definitely the one when he accidentally looked at the camera.
"You look sort of beautiful in the camera." Your lids flutter like a high school girl. “Not just in the camera, I mean… haha.”
He stares at you in confusion, and somehow you always find yourself frozen and embarrassed whenever he looks at you. "Sort of beautiful? You're more naive than I thought." He removes his jacket and throws it on the log nearby, revealing his buff body. You look away in discomfort, you didn't want to find yourself checking him out. "I'm not what you think I am. And I don't think you want to know."
"Maybe I do." You point the camera towards him and take a shot of his reaction. You wink.
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The clouds hovering above the clamorous sea tell that there's probably rain coming, but it seems like the group wasn't bothered by it at all. You were sitting next to Taehyung two feet away from you on the logs nearby the fire that Seth had given up trying to help making after a couple of failed attempts. His heat never failed to linger around you though.
Sam was discussing the Quileute Legends and the group was very fascinated with the story, even though Taehyung had confirmed earlier that they've already heard the story too many times from their own families. Sam was good. He had a way in telling stories. You find yourself actually believing the legends. Werewolves and vampires? Shapeshifters and Children of the Moon? You weren't one to believe in such fantasies. You liked to watch historical movies more than fairytales, but with the way Sam elaborated every part of the legend, you can't deny the shiver that you felt when he discussed the cold ones.
Fast like lightning. Beautiful and alluring. Undead without a soul.
You thought it was ridiculous for Sam to even give out a warning about the cold ones. You were suppressing your laugh a little bit, and you were sure Leah already had her eyes on you. Why would Sam give out a warning about the cold ones? It's not like they were actually real. He also mentioned a treaty. And he sounded pretty serious about it too, even Taehyung was carefully listening. All of their eyes were on Sam, except for Leah.
Sam talked about a specific family of the cold ones, that they proposed a treaty. These cold ones are not allowed to hurt anybody from Forks, or else the mentioned werewolves are allowed to pose a fight with them. He talked about it like it was a plan.
It was afternoon and the clouds were still as thick as it was in the morning, but rays of sunlight shone through the gaps between the dark clouds. It looked ethereal, an aesthetic you'd only see in paintings. You thought those paintings are only manifestations of amplified emotions of the painter, but here you are, smiling to your camera as you take hundreds of shots.
"Save some memory for the other landscapes," Taehyung says beside you, throwing pebbles to the water, each bouncing impressively for three times.
"I know, I just can't get enough of this. You don't see that in L.A." You pointed your index finger towards the horizon of the sea.
"Yeah, but at least you can swim in LA. It's too cold out here to even go for a swim,” he emphasized.
"Not when you're around. It's weird, but I feel like you have a fever. You're too hot."
He raises his brows . "I know I'm hot," he chuckles.
"I didn't mean it like that,” you protest, though you know for a fact, Taehyung right. If he were to live in L.A., he'd be escorted many times by a modeling agency.
"So, I'm not hot?" You knew he was teasing and your embarrassment was obvious enough because of the blood rushing through your cheeks.
"You're attractive. I'm sure you know that." You roll your eyes, trying to keep everything casual — which is getting harder and harder every time he's around.
"No, I don't,” he teased. He was obviously getting pay back on you for taking candid shots of him earlier.
Your eyes landed on Sam and Emily play-fighting in the sea, just the sight of them being happy made you feel a bit of a heartache. You were a sucker for romance. The boys told you earlier that they were engaged for three months now. Leah was Sam's ex-girlfriend and Emily was Leah's ex-best friend. Finally putting the pieces together why Leah was one of the hardest to be with. She was extremely hurt and broken. She would rather shut the world out rather than let anybody in. She would rather be alone, than find anyone again who could possibly hurt her.
"Look," you poked Taehyung who was too busy throwing pebbles, "Sam and Emily are swimming. We should too!"
Though you were shivering, you bravely took off the mustard jacket that Taehyung had let you borrow. You were left with your thin brown tank top and denim shorts. He's still in his black shirt, unbothered to even take it off nor his jeans.
"What are you doing? Let's go." You tell him as you walk towards the sea.
This was a bad idea. It felt like ice was draping all over your body. How can Emily look like she's having fun when you're over here freezing just by stepping into the water? Half of your body was shivering from the wind, the lower half was for sure numb. You wanted to slap Taehyung for taking so long to get in with you, and you weren't even sure why you were so desperate for him to get in with you. It's not like he had a heater with him.
It took Taehyung a few more seconds before he started taking his shirt off, revealing his caramel skin, but it wasn't his color that caught your eyes, it was how built he is. His body looks like it was sculpted by the most talented and precise sculptor. It was defined, and shadows are doing magic in giving it silhouettes in the right areas. The best part about it was how shy he was taking off his clothes, like a teenager getting ready for his first swimming lesson.
He was for sure planning to swim today, revealing the gray trunks he’s wearing underneath his jeans. He needs a bigger one that fits him better, because the trunks he's wearing isn't doing him any justice.
Okay, no. Maybe it was justified by a subtle outline of his —
Don't even look down there, y/n, you tell yourself.
You didn't know where to focus. His thighs were just as eye-catching as his abs. Just as toned and thick. It would be such a material for thigh riding, you thought and you quickly shake your head at the idea. It has to be the waters that did this to you. Time has never been more relevant when he was walking towards your way, as he scoops water with his hands to wet his hair, while biting his bottom lip and giving you a small smile after.
"Freezing?" He smiles, eyes pierced on your small body. You were hugging yourself, embracing yourself from the fact that if you let go of your hands, you might touch something else.
"You were taking so long." 
He chuckles before holding your arm, taking it off your body. "Come on, dip your whole body." He pulls you softly towards the ocean, the sound of walking through water comforting your ears.
He was a foot away from you, the water level was on his chest and so was yours, but slightly higher. He looked even more godly. His hair pushed back, and to see his face in its entirety was a blessing, a gift.
None of you dared to talk, and you thought it was better that way. You just get to stare at him, as the sunlight lands itself upon his bronze eyes with specks of gold if you would close enough, majestic indeed to see something like that once in your life. You'd wish to wake up to that every morning.
There was this comfortable silence between the two of you. Drops of water fall under his eyelashes, fluttering them as he struggles to stare back at you. The moment was ruined when he suddenly smiled and looked towards Embry and Paul. Embry was sitting next to Paul, staring at the both of you while laughing. You shrug, feeling invaded.
"Why? What is it?" you asked Taehyung.
"They're thinking ridiculously."
 You furrow your forehead. "How do you know?" He tightens his hold around your arm as he keeps you steady near him, aware of you struggling to touch the floor.
"I just know," he softly plants circles on your arm with his thumb, "trust me."
"Maybe we shouldn't stand too close to each other then. I think they're making a big deal out of it." You didn't want to come off feisty, but you guessed it went that way for Taehyung as he moved away from you without letting you go.
"No, they're not. They're just teasing." When he said that, it was like he only said it to get near you, to assure you that it was okay to be close to him like that.
"Still cold?" he asked.
"Not so much anymore." You muttered. There were so many questions you wanted to ask Taehyung, but your voice isn't very trustworthy at the moment. You know it will betray you the moment you open your mouth.
"Penny for your thoughts? Why did you want to swim?" His voice was soft, calming as the ocean.
"I wanted to test how warm you can make me, even in freezing water."
He laughs breathily. "Seriously?"
You nod. He wanted to tell you a lot about himself, but like you, he was just as scared. Skinny dipping wasn't really your thing, especially in cold water, so after a few more moments of swimming and small talks with Taehyung, you let yourself dry by sitting next to the tent, keeping yourself busy by viewing all the pictures you took.
It was four in the afternoon, and the sun looked like it was already setting. Time was almost irrelevant at Forks, you wake up and the next thing you know, you're already getting ready for bed. Even though today was quite eventful, the clock still ticked quickly.
Feeling dry enough, you walked to the other side of the beach, Embry had mentioned that there was a cliff nearby along the woods. Though Taehyung was busy drying himself and laughing with the others, he glanced your way as you were heading towards the woods. You lifted your camera so he knew what your motive was, and he flashed a sly smile.
Trees. Cliffs. Birds.
The place could be a haven for the National Geographic Channel.
"I thought the pack wouldn't ever leave you alone like this." A deep voice spoke behind you, his english accent was thick and strong. You were sure that if you turn around, he’ll be ten feet away from you. You regret blinking your eyes, because the next thing you knew, he was right in front of you. His expression with so much thirst, so much hunger. For what?
You only inhaled sharply, first thing coming into your mind, confusion overpowering your nerves. You examined the man before you quickly. Olive skin, dark ruby eyes. His skin was inhumanly shiny, he almost looked dead, but in a mesmerizing type of way. He had dark purple circles, but his eyes were beautiful enough to distract you from it. He mirrored a cement under sunlight, he had fragments of diamonds and glitters on his skin. It wasn't your brain consuming you but his visual, his aura.
"Didn't bring your dog with you?" You weren't sure what he meant. He takes a step forward to lean into your ear, and your feet beg to stay, your eyes staring deeply in his beauty. You were too engaged, everything about him had you in place.
"You smell different from the others. Are you aware of that?" His breath touched your skin and there the exact opposite of heat seeping in your skin. “La tua cantante. I can hear your blood flowing through your veins. I can hear your heart. It's beautiful." He sniffs your neck as he hisses.
He wasn't human, and this time you were sure. He had danger lingering in his eyes, but it dressed so captivatingly beautiful, you found yourself lost.
"It won't hurt, I promise. It will be just a tiny bite, you won't even feel it."
There were words coming out of your mouth, you swore that. But nothing, your mouth still and close. It's sort of like he had power upon you, controlling and manipulating your body to be a mannequin. 
"Shh, don't fight it. You won't win over me." His teeth were grazing on your neck, seeking for a soft spot. You were unsure of his nature, what could he be?
An alien from this alien planet? An experiment gone wrong that escaped from a lab, perhaps? Maybe a demon, or an angel. A greek god of some kind?
They were all terrifying.
At the corner of your eye appeared a shirtless Taehyung, but he didn't look like himself. He was red, smoke flaring around his body. His chest expanded by time, and when you felt a small sensation of sharpness on your neck, Taehyung jumped towards the man.
No, it can't be.
This isn't Taehyung. Taehyung was gone. Maybe you were imagining things, but you felt all of them happening in front of you. As the man got distracted, your senses came back, falling on your side from losing balance. You pushed yourself away from the two monsters, as you would describe it. This wolf was huge, enormous. Any man who would try to fight it will easily lose. It stands almost seven foot, three bears wide.
Without trying, the creature had already decapitated the man. You weren't sure how to feel — safe or worried — but you were sure that you are mortified, and your face clearly expresses that.
You were only moving away from this huge thing in front of you, maybe that'll help you escape. But you don't even know if you wanted to escape. A part of you believes that Taehyung is inside that wolf, maybe eaten alive, or a spirit. 
So much for the wild coyotes, thanks for the heads up Sylvia.
Your eyes met his. Dark bronze eyes with specks of gold if you look close enough. You could almost see yourself in them, they were that kind. His eyes had a message for you, to approach him, to pet him, that it was okay and he will never hurt you. Before your hand could land on his lowered head, Sam and the others came running to help you, obviously seeing the wolf, but not even being bothered like you were.
"Y/n, are you alright?" Sam helps you stand on your feet.
Sam and the wolf had some kind of connection. Sam stared at it and the wolf left.
"So, wolves are normal here?" you spoke with a weak voice.
Sam opened his mouth and closed it again, thinking of how he can explain what just happened. You know that he knows something, and he was struggling to tell it.
"Where's Taehyung?" You scan their faces with no sign of Taehyung.
Holy shit! The wolf ate him! you thought. All you want to see right now is Taehyung. To prove himself. He can't be that wolf. The wolf must have eaten him. It is far too impossible for Quileute Legends to be real.
"We should get going before the other cold ones get here." Sam assists you to get back in the tents, completely ignoring your state of bewilderment.
Maybe it's a Forks thing to be mysterious and quiet. It irks you so much that none of them are even acknowledging what happened. This would be a great story for your mom.
Hey, Mom. Just wanted to call to tell you about how great my day was. So Taehyung, right? Aunt's neighbor, really hot guy I'd totally fuck, got eaten by a werewolf. But that's not too crazy, an incredibly beautiful medieval British man held me hostage, telling me he wanted to suck my blood. What a Forks thing! And everybody saw this huge tall wolf, I'm talking as big as a shelf kind of wolf, but they all acted like it was some puppy leaving the scene. Anyways, Mom, I'm traumatized. Going home in a week.
There is no way you can paraphrase that. No way you can make everything happening right now to sound normal at least one bit. This must be normal in Forks, but this is some Hollywood work in LA already. Things like these don't happen unless there was a shoot next door.
"Hey, you okay?" Leah approaches you. Her concern is seemingly genuine.
"I'm alive, guess I am okay. Where's Taehyung?" You don't bother to look at anyone at all, you drive your attention to the waves landing on the beach, hoping you could synchronize your breathing with them.
"Taehyung's fine. You don't have to worry about him."
"I saw him there. He was... he was red! Like he was burning! And... and there was smoke. Then I blinked, then there's a wolf. I swear it ate him!" Leah looked at you with wide eyes, but her lips were shaking trying to hide a smile.
"You're not taking me seriously! That wolf killed that guy! I don't know. He sounded British!" Leah bit her lip. "That was horrifying. I saw its head removed, there was no blood! What was that?" Leah inhaled sharply before looking at you with assurance.
"Can you calm down? The wolf you saw, don't you think it was described like the one in the legends?" Leah almost shouted, yet still controlling her laugh.
"Shapeshifters? Those are legends, Leah! The wolf ate Taehyung!" 
She chuckled. "No, they are real," she protested.
"The British man there was a cold one, a literal vampire. Taehyung didn't kill him, he was already dead."
No.
"Shut up, Leah. I know you hate me, but this is no time for jokes." 
She laughs harder. "You're right about me not liking you, but I'm not joking. That dark brown werewolf is Taehyung. One and only Taehyung. 20 year-old Taehyung who lives at the rez. That Taehyung."
'The world is darker than you think. It's not always safe.'
Taehyung had already given you clues from the start. But a word from Leah wouldn't be enough to stop your mind from going everywhere. You needed to hear this from Taehyung.
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It was twilight already and the group had decided to spend the night in their cabin, instead of the beach. Sam explained that it was for your safety which until now he hasn't elaborated yet. Emily offered newly baked muffins, but it was too late before you could grab one when all the boys devoured around them. You gave Emily a smile.
"You can have the next batch." She shied away.
Emily looks like an average girl next door. She had fringes and medium length hair, they were very flat. Her skin was like the others, tan and healthy-looking. One thing you haven't examined deeply about her were her eyes. Embry had told you once that staring at Emily would bother Sam, and when you first saw her, you knew immediately why. She had a scar on one of her eyes, they looked painful. It looks like a cat scratch, only if that cat was a lion. It covered half of her face, but that didn't stop her from being lovely. She was still pretty in every way.
Taehyung arrives at the cabin, looking at everybody except you, his body resting on the door frame. He was heavy-breathing like he just finished a race. Sam came after him, giving him a small pat then walking towards Emily. Taehyung's eyes remain on the floor. His actions were complicated. You haven't figured him out yet.
"Y/N, Tae, maybe you can talk outside alone." Sam smirks at Taehyung, and Taehyung smiles back.
'This is no time to be smiling!'
Taehyung finally looks at you before leaving the door and you follow. But he still hasn't talked. And your rage is piling up inside you, you finally take a step forward.
"Care to explain what the hell happened there? I thought you were swallowed by that — that thing!" He gulps, stopping his tracks and turning around to see your face.
"I was scared," you muttered.
He totally understood why you were scared. Because he was just as scared and confused as you when he first discovered who he was, and just like you, he chose to deny it in every way he can, and he hoped that denial can make a change.
"You're not supposed to know about this. I didn't want to put you in this position — of knowing what truly there is." His eyes are sad, like he was a missing child.
The same day Taehyung figured out what he was, his eyes looked exactly the same; with fear, agony, and deprecation.
"So, you're a werewolf?" You felt his pupils dilate.
He looked at you in disbelief as if he hadn't given enough clues yet.
"Werewolf. Shapeshifter. Monster. Dog. Whatever you call it, it wasn’t my choice." His voice was weak, almost ashamed of what he had just said.
"And you kill —"
"Vampires." He finishes your sentence before you could assume. "Just vampires. The cold ones? Those that violate the treaty? They’re real." And so the legends were correct and real, and the evidence stands right in front of you, breathing and staring at you.
But no matter what angle you look at him, he wasn't a monster. He is not what he is described in the fairytales. He wasn't a merciless creature, not even harmful. He was just this young boy who lived near you.
"I get that you're afraid of me. Trust me, so am I."
"I'm not scared of you. If it weren't for you I would be bloodless by now." You bit your lip. "But I'm still a little overwhelmed." You gulped.
He had no words, but he was relieved. And you knew that when his eyes twinkled, the kind he gave you when you were jamming to the songs he had in his truck.
"If it's okay for you, I'm inviting you and Sylvia to my birthday tomorrow. It's just a small gathering."
"Will there be drinks?" you kid.
"Sam doesn't really want me taking any drinks for the meantime." He chuckles.
"Why not?"
"He said that I can't be on alcohol during my first six months of phasing. Why? Do you drink?" he innocently asks.
"Was just teasing." You playfully pushed him before proceeding to walk back in the cabin.
Before you even knew it, Taehyung was irrevocably infatuated with you. He wouldn't have thought that a college girl would give a small attention to someone younger than her, or even finding out about who he truly is and still staying by his side. He had spent so much time denying who he was, but maybe being a werewolf isn't so bad after all, if phasing is what it takes to protect you or anyone at all.
You were just like what he thought you would be — kindred spirits.
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The party isn’t filled with loud chats and crowds, it is a gathering. Taehyung tried his best to always stand by your side to give you ease in enjoying such an unfamiliar place as Sylvia gets indulged in conversations with the others, completely forgetting you. Every minute though, he'd have to leave you alone on the couch but he'd return as soon as he can.
There weren't much talks between you and him either, only a couple of smiles exchanged whenever Embry and Quil do something embarrassing in front of the both of you.
It seemed as if the night was the longest night of your life, only occupied with listening to others’ stories and Taehyung sipping a punch from his red cup. He had asked a few questions to keep things interesting, but it was hard to keep the mood flowing. You had asked about his hobbies and all the boring stuff you could think of, and surprisingly he would reply with enthusiasm like he have always wanted to be asked those questions. This makes you more curious how his daily life goes, how many people does he actually talk to.
When the hand of the clock drops at ten, you were just patiently waiting for Sylvia to get on her feet and cut the conversation with the others but she seemed to have consumed more alcohol than she could tolerate and the next thing you knew she was laughing like a maniac. You were stuck in a loop circle of smiling so thinly to everyone you get eye contact with.
You distract yourself with admiring the intricate designs of Taehyung's small home, and the thought of a young Taehyung growing up in where you're sitting currently makes your heart jolt. It's uplifting seeing his pictures on the wall, but there was a difference between his smile before and his smile now. One can easily tell which was more true. You had no clue what it's like to be his kind, hell even now you still can't believe what he is. But it sure shows in the way he had changed judging from the innocent photos that hang on the wooden walls. You've never known him since then, yet you wanted to restore this angel-being beaming at the sight of a camera who now hates being in photos because he thinks he's some sort of a monster.
You wanted to ask him about the pictures, the one where he was wearing a towel with a headband, the one where he was framing his face. All of them speak some kind of connection with you, maybe it's your love for photography that makes you feel this way, but innocence is one of the hardest thing to lay your lenses on.
Then you finally got it. What your professor was talking about, drawing something intangible to your camera. This is what he meant. Your gallery is only filled with landscapes, mostly the aesthetic of architecture and nature. Taehyung is what you needed to change the mood of your photos, not the weather, not the dark ambience of Forks, but his story. If only there's a chance for you to grasp his mystery in a single picture, his adventurous smile in one flash.
A pang of pain in your forehead pulls you back into reality, and the lights that stood above you only made it worse. You needed to leave immediately before the pain has you grunting. Welcomed with a wrapping breeze, you brace yourself and regret wearing the dress Sylvia begged you to wear. She said it was her favorite when she was your age, a Prussian blue dress that stops before your knees with tulle around the hem and a lighter blue ribbon on the chest.
Of course Taehyung who sits beside you would notice your leaving, and before you can inhale the fresh air from the porch, he was already asking what's wrong.
"I don't feel so good. I think I'm gonna have to go home alone since Sylvia's still occupied," you said, pushing on your temples with your thumb and middle finger.
"I can drive you home. I don't think they'd notice that we left, they're all pretty wasted." He chuckles, complementing the high tones of the strong wind that travels past your bodies.
"I'm really sorry. I'm being rude, I mean this is your party... your birthday party and you're going to drive me home."
He places the sippy cup on a coffee table near the entrance, and he was palming his pocket to reach for his keys.
"It's fine, y/n. The party's been dead four hours ago and I can't send you home alone. Do you have the house key or should I go back inside and ask Sylvia for it?"
"She gave me a duplicate. I think it's best we go now. My head's really killing me."
It was unusual, headaches. They rarely come to you since you monitor your phone usage and water intake. You hate getting them because you hated taking meds for it, and you just hoped Sylvia would have a stock of it. Your fingers have been roaming your forehead for a while yet you can't seem to navigate where the pain is, where it's beating. It would be better if you could massage it along the ride but you were struggling to even keep your fingers raised.
Taehyung stops the car in the middle of somewhere as you are hitting your head continuously on the head rest. It was quiet, a deafening silence that rang your ears that brought you to open your eyes. Taehyung wasn't in his seat anymore, only fog filling for his place crawling under your skin.
There was your breathing, crickets, and rustles of trees that travel the air. You weren't sure how to react but one was definite, you were scared. The hand resting on your thigh turning white and wet, breathing faster and heavier as the air seems to be corrupted with toxic poison that does nothing but suffocate you.
Don't get out of the car, don't get out of the car, you chant internally hoping it will help your situation.
"Hello, dear," a slinky voice says through the window, almost similar to the man— vampire from yesterday. Could it be? Could there be more? "Don't make me wait, dear. Open the door and make this easy for the both of us, hm?"
It sounds the exact same as the accent the man had with an alluring tone that draws you to open the door. However, it wasn't just her tempting attempt into convincing you to endanger yourself, the pain in your head inflates as you try to control yourself.
"You want it hard, my dear?" She smirks, you weren't sure but you hear the spread of the corner of her lips.
Then she was in front of the headlights, filled with rage, her eyes dark and dangerous as she showed her predacious teeth. From here, you can feel the vibration of her anger as if she had the ability to let you feel all the harnessed emotions inside her. You can count them one by one: anger, vengeance, and the feeling you get before success. None of them were positive emotions, none of them was mercy. She came here to accomplish one thing.
Your death.
Finally understanding it, inside her browbeating eyes were agony and mourning. She was here to avenge the death of the vampire that Taehyung had killed. She was as beautiful, as seductive with her pale skin and ruby lips, curly strawberry blonde hair that flows until her shoulders.
You discovered that there was a split second of slow agonizing memory of your life before it's taken, and you wished there was none. She runs towards you, careless whether she bashes her head into the glass. She takes your neck, her fingers poking specifically at the sides and right before you can regain your breath your eyes open.
Gasping and catching air, awakening in the seat with Taehyung by your side who drives in silence as Midnight Rambler by The Rolling Stones plays from his rusty stereo.
So if you ever meet the midnight rambler
I'm coming down your marble hall
Well, he's pouncing like a proud black panther
Well, you can say I, I told you so
He sits there, unaware of the chaos that repeats in your head. It all felt so real, the grasp on your neck that locks your throat, you could've sworn you've given your last breath. The pain had stopped, replaced by dizziness that you knew would pass as minutes go by. 
"What's wrong?" he asked. "Is there something on my face?"
You shake your head. "I didn't know I was staring."
That's right. You didn't know you were staring. There was so much comfort in knowing he never left, the heat of his presence brings you a feeling of security. It's okay now. Taehyung's still here. By your side.
Once reaching home, Taehyung does his best to assist you as though you were ill. It's cute how he acts that way, so careful, so gentle. Upon reaching your room, Taehyung stops before your bedroom door, almost waiting for an invitation.
"I should get going now. I'll tell Sylvia you felt sick." And before he could say good bye, you're already wrapping yourself in the blankets as he passively makes a step away from your door.
"Taehyung," you said, reaching out. "Thank you for today."
He doesn't turn back. "You're welcome. Also, thank you for coming."
A shiver spreads across your back when your lids start to fall, and your body jolts upwards. The beautiful woman from the early nightmare visits your mind again, her face inches from yours close to ripping it apart.
"Taehyung," you whispered, but he heard you within the thin walls of the lonely house. "Can you... stay for a sec? I... I had a nightmare earlier... felt so real. C-can you?"
He walks back, eyes landing everywhere except your body that waits for him on the bed. Is she serious? he thought as you opened the blankets for a space behind you.
"Until you fall asleep?"
You nod. He kicks off his shoes and he positions himself behind you, both of your breaths synchronizing as he lies down softly. You bury your cheek into the pillow when you feel his warmth wrap the room, the security coming back. You turn your head to see him watching you inches away, his hand keeping his head up as he rests his cheek against it. You take his free hand that lies on his right side, pulling it to your stomach requesting for him to scoot closer until his body brushes your back.
You can stay like this, for longer than you can imagine. Just the sounds of your breaths and the hums of his loud thumping heart that makes its way to your upper back, the release of breath from his nostrils that flies over your hair. Peaceful. Safe and sound.
In his embrace, you forget everything: the packing for Los Angeles, the fear of not getting into any university, the supernatural that you had discovered that you still cannot comprehend, the clouding fear that something is coming to get you. In his arm, it's like they never existed. The worries are nothing but disappearing sea foams, a water in heat that evaporates into thin air.
You enclose the hold in Taehyung's hand above your stomach, intertwining them for ease. Falling back into his embrace, he subtly moves away hoping you wouldn't notice. His warmth turning into heat, breathing ragged, hold on you tighter and stronger. Then you feel it, a gentle thrust behind you and he pretends to adjust position. He pulls you closer with the hand on your stomach and you sigh which caused a poking at your butt.
You may not be the smartest person on earth, but it doesn't take a book to know what it was. Taehyung murmurs an apology, his words passing by your neck which sends your stomach into a spiral. You rub your thighs together hoping to dissipate the throbbing in your core, not now.
Not now that Taehyung's beside you. Or maybe it should be now that Taehyung's beside you, you were open for a helping hand. His hand over your head tucks a strand of your hair, the finger brushing on your temple made your aching much harder to ignore. There would be no distraction, no having to worry about who will hear the both of you, for God's sake the house was built in the middle of nowhere, so you thought 'Fuck it.'
You tug his hand to the middle of your chest, to rest them between your breasts as your head turns to face him. He gulps, looking at you intently with lust hovering over his hooded eyes. You lean towards him, your lips reaching his and he pulls away for a second before diving back in. He had pillowy lips, and if it weren't for your hot need at the moment you would let your lips sleep on them for a longer while, but as of right now there are a lot of tensions that need handling.
You leave his hand on your chest while he's still shy to grope one of your breasts. Your hand then wrapping the back of his head to pull him deeper into the kiss, he sighs. That sigh caused the aching to grow, shaking your behind to feel how needy he was and he sighs again. His hand that was on your chest now pushes below the curves of your breasts to pull you closer, to have more friction, to thrust into you.
Until he couldn't take it anymore, he wants you below him as much as you want him on top of you. He hovers above you, his knee swift in spreading your thighs open and he is bucking in a steady pace on your clothed entrance.
"Take me, Taehyung," you breathe the second he leaves your lips.
He takes it slow, burning your insides, as his fingers pull the bow on your chest, untying the effortless knot you had made in the mirror. Too slow to keep up with your throbbing heat, you trail his hand to open the loose front, exposing
your nude bra. His eyes are pinned on yours, and you would make quick glances at his moderate hand you're directing. You unclasp the front of your bra, and when he hears it setting on the bed, he kisses you as if asking if you were really sure. Beneath the feverish endless kiss were words of fear from him, what if he wasn't truly ready.
The last time he had experienced this was long ago, a time before he knew how dangerous he could be. Careless of what his hands could bring, when he hadn't given a single thought for any of his actions. Well, it was one time, only once with the first girl he had ever loved. And the first was always the quickest, but it was unforgettable, he had kept every detail of her daisy fresh skin remembered under his fingertips. The laughs they had shared in between, a significance of the innocence they were about to lose. His head loses in doubts, questions that can only be answered if he risks hurting you tonight.
Then you whisper, "It's okay, you're not going to hurt me." Because in your mind, that was the last thing in his abilities. You smile, "It's okay." Rubbing circles at the back of his trembling hand, his jaw clenches.
Once he had started kissing you again, you parted his lips with your tongue in which he had replied with a tender bite causing you to moan within your throat. This motivates him to grope your breast, aggressing as seconds pass by, pulling a nipple in between his fingers and you arch your back. You rest your feet on his back, synchronizing with the movement of his hips. You admire the way his head moves downward, stopping after every inch of your skin to place a soft kiss until he reaches your breasts to which he places a long stripe lick moving from one bud to another while his eyes remain on yours. He's going to be the death of you.
You pant, trying to reach his hips that came to a halt. His hands pushing the hem of your dress higher, stopping at the middle of your waist. And his evil slow hands, still taking his time, move behind your thighs to pull them away from his back and placing them on his shoulders as he gets comfortable right between them. With gaze pierced on yours, he flats his lips on your clothed slit, tracing the wet spot visible in your white underwear. The thought of you being almost naked underneath the dress ever since earlier brought Taehyung into insanity, he could've fucked you with his fingers on the couch, he could've removed them and left your pussy out in the open as he keeps it in his pocket, he could've done so many things if only he knew earlier how much you'd wanted him just the same.
You look at the empty ceiling, too affected by the darkness in his stare, you were scared you would cum too quickly if you remain watching. He pulls your garment upward to put his bare thumb against your clit, until you couldn't take it and you look down again to see him putting the said thumb in his mouth. Sweeter than the cranberry juice he'd been tolerating to drink, adding that to the list he could've done earlier while your panties were in his pocket; enjoying the sweet fervor of your cunt on his tongue. He plays at your clit, tongue curling to lap up the wetness that increases as his spit mixes in. He knows so well what he's doing, the fragile scoop of his bottom lip from your opening to your clit where he stops.
Everywhere around his lips glistens as the bright light from the hallway outside your room shines upon them. His hands still holding your thighs steady, he slips his tongue inside you which has you shaking and he had to adjust the control in his grip. Once they've settled, he puts his touch above your breasts, flicking both buds in each hand.
You were crumbling under him, desperate for release, grunting in a throaty voice as you tried to keep yourself together. Tears huddle in your eyes, blurring your vision until he stops, now smiling above you while he pulls your underwear away from your body. It doesn't take long for him to get naked and you take time to admire his build. His skin was made of honey, toned and reflective of the warmth he emits. His cock slapping his tummy before he could fully get out of his tight boxers, his tip reaching his button.
He returns to his position between your thighs but this time around he was the one to wrap your legs around his waist. His shaft falls between your slit and he makes subtle movements in burying himself between them.
"I just want to say," he began, "how amazing you are." A gravelly moan of your name escapes his lips as you take matters in your own hand, thumb going over the head of his cock while the rest of your fingers rest wraps his cock.
He thrusts into your hand. His face forming wrinkles, frustration painted across his face. Until he falls on both arms caging your head, bucking for more friction, enjoying the suppleness of your touch. He was groaning, panting, and making a mess of himself to which all echoes from one wall to another. You put a hand on his abdomen to break his movement. He obeys, feeling you part yourself for his cock, torturously slow in entering you.
You pull your hands to your sides, getting a hold of Taehyung's biceps. Opening your lids to watch his pupils dilate as he rams the rest of his length inside your beating entrance.
"Y/n," he groans, brow knotting together when you clench around him. He's going to fall apart, he thought. You wrap him tighter, letting go of yourself in ecstasy, careless whether you melt into the bed or break it, all is well as long as you're looking into his eyes.
He chants your name again and again in a symphony of continuous moaning, and all you could say is how good he sounds. A compilation of ah's and oh's whenever he reaches your spot, his head brushing against it and it felt like nothing but heaven. More, he wants more, if only he could fuck you endlessly he would. The bed hits the wall in coordination of his sharp thrusts, and he's losing himself in you he couldn't care less if he breaks the walls. In sync with the sounds he makes were your gasps and high-pitched whispers of his name that he can see himself in the near future thinking of them and fucking himself alone in his room as he recalls them.
"Tae— oh fuck, Taehyung," you cried out causing his cock to twitch inside you, you call out for more. His name and a couple of curses were the only words you could spew out. Trembling, you feel an explosion of euphoria inside you, letting go of the tight grip around Taehyung's arm.
With one last fluid thrust, he pulls himself out and spills himself on top of your stomach. Both of your breathing slows until they were no longer audible. He rolls to his back beside you waiting to cool down and you take care of yourself by wiping his cum away with the tissue from the nightstand.
"I'm sorry, I made a mess," he says, breaking silence.
You didn't reply, instead you lie on your side to face him and wrap his cock in your warm hand. His cock still hard and wet under your touch, he breathes out a long sigh. "I made a mess of you too."
He chuckles before placing one last kiss on your forehead, and you watch him fall into his dreams. You shut the door, thankful Sylvia didn't come home during the circumstances earlier. You make a note not to leave it open next time.
Next time? Were you actually hoping for a next time? It's not long until you're leaving. Forks is not your home. Your home is on the other side of the country, and everything you grew up with awaits there. Forks is not your home, you tell yourself. The night grows along with your need for sleep, falling onto Taehyung's chest and getting lost in a slumber. You wake to Sylvia opening the door, an indication of her coming home, and you fall asleep again.
The next time you wake up, the sun shining alight from the windows to your eyes, Taehyung was sitting at the end of the bed fully clothed. His head turns slightly, feeling the sense of your waking.
"Y/n, there's not just one who wants to kill you," he says but you couldn't make out a single word, "there's a whole coven of them."
a/n: happy new year! pls dont take the bella comment seriously. also team jacob ftw!!! also appreciate my banner work owo.this is my first descriptive smut like i actually write them having sex idk i hope yall like it tho :* i love y’all! 
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herstarburststories · 4 years
Text
Shut up
Kinktober day 6: face sitting
Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader
Summary: You find a way to shut Dean up.
Warnings: oral sex (female receiving), hate/love relationship, making out, hint of daddy kink, consent is sexy, mentions of humping
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Dean Winchester gets on your nerves sometimes.
No, scratch that. He always gets on your nerves. You don't know what irks you most about him: the stupid, lopsided smirk; the constant teasing sarcasm in his words, if he were incapable of taking anything seriously; or, maybe, it was how he was so impossibly gorgeous even when he was bleeding out. 
Dean irritates you more than any other being, from the poor excuse of a president of your country to the stupid demons that you face from time to time.
So, it's good to finally shut up his mouth. Even better, you’d put it for a good use for once.
His green eyes glow as he looks up to you, naked body impatient on the mattress as he nibbles on his bottom lip in anticipation. Dean's cock is already completely hard only from making out and some humping. It’s so easy to get him all worked up for you.
You throw your shirt away, and Dean lets out a quiet grunt his response. His idiotic lips are parted slightly as he watches your boobs. You aren’t wearing a bra. Fuck, he just wants to touch you, but for right now, this isn't about him. Well, not directly. This is about how furious you are because Dean Winchester has no right to make you feel like a high school girl discovering how a crush felt. You were always surrounded by a light-hearted feeling that made you want to do a dumb thing like kiss him in the back of a bar or jump in front of a bullet to save his ungrateful ass.
How did you, of all people, develop a crush for Dean? Dean is Dean -- a selfless, cocky son of a bitch. Come on, you're smarter than that! You’ve gotta be a masochist. 
Nonetheless, you get rid of your pants and underwear, pussy almost dripping for this idiot. The Winchester whimpers at the sight, licking his lips. The only thoughts revolving around in his head are: I need to taste you.
You glance at him, the beginnings of a smile lightening your features. The big, bad hunter certainly doesn’t have the usual arrogant look on his face now.
You still have your boots on when you climb on top of the bed, and Dean doesn't seem to care one bit. If anything, his livid, forest-green orbs catch a glimpse of you, naked and climbing on top of him, only wearing those fucking boots. He gulps, not remembering the last time he’s been this turned on. He is a goner.
You place your hands on his shoulders, and you're sitting on his legs. The wetness of your needy cunt makes a mess there. Part of you wants to ride his thigh, rubbing until you achieve your share of relief. You have a thought or two about just taking his length inside you — how couldn't you? The tip of his hardness is pressing against your belly, his desire palpable from the precum sluicing your skin. When Dean groans, it's almost silent; animalistic, even. He grabs your hip as if you were his. God, you want to be, but not today.
Dean leans in to capture your lips in another savage kiss, but you pull back. He gives you a confused look. “You okay?”
You know he's going to stop if you tell him to because Dean's a decent man. The thought just turns you on even more. “Come on, Dean. Your thigh’s a hot mess because of my pussy. I think I'm more than okay.”
Once again, he offers your that signature, lopsided grin. It’s filled to the brim with confidence. “Well, sweetheart,” he breathes, and you groan at the stupid nickname he gives to every single woman he meets through the road. Son of a bitch. Fucking womanizer. “What's it to you, then? You want me to get on top of you so I can fuck you nice and slow?” You are about to laugh at his face over the implication of being dominated by him, but Dean's fingers slide into a clandestine meeting with your clit, carefully caressing it as if you were lovers. All you can do now is sink your nails into his skin and moan, shamefully loud. “Or you want to ride my thigh? Come without even touching my cock, all for daddy?”
That wasn't your plan, but it felt so good. If Dean's fingers are that heavenly, fucking his cock might turn you into a goddess, but you can’t.
You aren't going to give in that easily. He tried to give you orders through the whole hunt. Sam might have a high tolerance for his control-freak brother, but you don't. You're going to teach him a thing or two about shutting the hell up.
You push his hand away, your body aching as if you broke a bone. Yet, you persevered as you took a deep breath and grinned impishly at Dean.
“You talk way too much, Winchester.” Your fingertips trace a line from his jaw to his neck, trailing down his chest; always following his foolish, adorable freckles. You catch a glimpse of goosebumps rising under your touch. It only causes your smirk to go wider. Dean is glaring at you with slightly raised brows, and you push him to lay on his back.
His cock twitching is proof enough that he enjoyed that.
You press your warmth on his length, retracting your hips when he tried to get inside you. Dean lets out a beautiful, frustrated grunt.
“Y/N…” Now that's better. He's groaning your name, fully aware only you are giving him pleasure. This is personal, this is dwindling, it's everything you both have been craving.
“You talk too much, Dean. Always trying to boss everyone around or joking as if you don't take anything seriously.” You're basically climbing on him now, your pussy enjoying the small relief of friction from Dean's hips, his stomach, his chest. You opt to sit there. “Someone should shut you up.”
Dean wishes he could answer. He wants to smirk at you, bring up other teasing comments only to get more of this. You were frisky and dominant -- everything his body and soul begged for. Yet, he can't bring himself to do anything other than lean his head forward in an attempt to catch your pussy with his lips. You smell so good. He can't wait to taste you. He just wants to eat you out, but you pull away from him with a laugh as if you found amusement in his suffering. Fuck, he’s getting even harder
Dean is so touch-starved for anything you're willing to give him.
You rise from his chest, your wetness leaving him soaked. He can't complain, though. Not when you blessed him with the sight of paradise.
That's it, Dean decides. I'm dead and in heaven… Again.
Because you're over his head, literally. Knees to the mattress on each side of his head, your pussy is right on his face, so appetizing and wet all for him.
“Y/N-” he tries, but you are quick to stop him. It’s a good thing. He'd probably make a fool out of himself from begging to let him touch you, just a little.
“Shh, sweetheart. Just shut up.” Dean barely catches a glimpse of pleasure for that before you sit on his face. “Now eat me out.”
Nevermind, this is his heaven.
You bite your lower lip, trying to regain some composure as you coil your fingers around the bedpost, nails pressed so strenuously into the hardwood there that you wouldn't be surprised if you left marks carved there. What else are you supposed to do? Dean doesn't waste any time when you sit on his face, eating you out like you’re a fucking meal and he’s a starving man. His chin and lips and nose are all wet from you.
This man really loves women.
“I knew that pretty mouth of yours could go to good use, baby,” you mumbled amidst his pornographic groans, grinding your hips down to ride his face. Dean shoves his tongue inside your warmth, finding comfort between your tight walls. “Mmh, Dean. Yes.”
He pulls away, but only because he needs to breathe. Dean nibbles on your inner thigh, smirking when you whine for him. So gorgeous and delicious. He gets your clit between his teeth carefully — this isn't supposed to hurt.
You inhale sharply, looking down to catch him in the act. He looks so hot like his, eating you out with his viridescent gaze fixed on your face as if you were his grand enlightenment. You look like everything he never thought he could have when you were like this: sitting on his face and giving yourself to him, glancing at Dean with your hands fixed on the headboard and tresses of your hair falling on your face.
After this, he has to kiss you some more. He just has to.
For now, though, the hunter is more than happy eating out his prey. He enjoys every aspect of this. You taste as if you were made to be this good for him. The tip of his tongue brushes your G-spot, and he can't wait for you to come. 
The idea of tasting your orgasm makes his cock ache deeply in the best ways possible. Dean's freaking sure he's about to come untouched because of your needy cunt.
He licks your clit before enveloping you with his lips, sucking on you at your neediest. You begin to lose your cognitive senses, melting into a screaming mess and pressing your pussy closer to him. Dean's almost suffocating, and he couldn't be happier. 
Your thighs tighten around his ears, a cry leaving your lips as Dean focuses all his attention on your clit. He only pauses to sink his tongue into your warm wetness before coming back to your sensitive spot.
You clutch the bedpost as if you are holding onto dear life as you come all over Dean's face. He tries to catch all of you — not because he doesn't want to get dirty, but because he ain't gonna miss one single drop of your juice. 
You taste so fucking good, much better than anything he has ever put on his tongue. Dean is an addict now, and he can't get enough of your cunt, your cum, or you.
He licks you clean, getting the most he can of you, and you whine through the intense sensation of freedom that comes with it. Fuck Dean and his spoiled tongue.
You get up with trembling legs. Your hand slides to find his hard cock and offer what relief you can, but you just find milky come on his stomach.
Did he come only from eating you out?
Holy fuck.
You make the mistake of looking at his face after that realization. He's breathless, glancing at you and licking your juices off his lips. He looks flushed and satisfied, smirking with dimpled cheeks. You can see your come on his chin and nose. “Remind me to never stop talking if this is how you're gonna shut me up.”
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