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extravaguk · 3 years

Text

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

wordcount: 15k

genre: summer!au, ex high school classmaters, kinda frenemies to lovers, tattoo artist!&piercing artist!jungkook, popular!reader

rated: m (fluff - smut - angst)

warnings: you broke jungkook's heart you bitch!! , oral sex (m&f), protected sex (shocking tbh), CL as your bestie it doesnt get better than that! idk i dont wanna spoil too much

author's note: fucking finally dude!! i've been writing this since february but school was kicking my ass. now that i finished my exams and mercury is in gemini i was able to finish it. if you read this, i hope you enjoy it!

Inkphoria

You've been standing outside the shop re-reading the word for fifteen minutes, although it definitely feels like it has been longer. You're gripping the flyer too tightly, rumpling the paper in your hand until you're pretty much sure it's ruined. It's the first day of June, and it's already too hot. The sun and humid weather are causing beads of sweat to form in your hairline and your white tank top to stick to your skin. Your jean shorts didn't feel this uncomfortable a few hours ago and you're sure the heat is causing your mascara to transfer to your eyelids and lower lashline. You've never needed a slushie and a smoke this bad in forever, even if you knew the later would make your parents lose their shit.

Inkphoria

You read it again. Your brain is trying to guess what font its written in, an excuse to try to steady your heart beat until your nerves ease a little and you can finally gather the courage to step into the damn shop. You've noticed a few people passing by giving you strange looks because maybe it hasn't been fifteen minutes. Perhaps you've been unmoving like an idiot in the middle of the street for longer than you want to admit.

Chaelin's voice echoes inside your head.

'Its not that much of a big deal. It's not even that painful, trust me.'

You wish you could trust your best friend, but your best friend is also the same woman who assured you Cats was the movie of the year. Yes, not 'Cats: The Musical'. 'Cats', the movie.

'And this could be a great start to get out of your comfort zone and start living your life exactly the way you want to, not the way people expect you to. Not the way your family wants you to, not the way Adam wanted you to.'

But although her credibility could sometimes be questionable - like that time she also told you she'd tried marmite and 'honestly, it's not as bad as people make it out to be'-, you also didn't trust anybody in this world as much as you trusted her. She had always been your entire support system, the only one around you who never sugarcoated, who always treated you as an equal, who was always there for you to help you discover yourself and, at the same time, remind you of who you were.

'And it's gonna look so hot, too.'

That's it. Sticking the wrinkled flyer on your back pocket, your feet finally start moving. It doesn't take longer than three strides and you're pushing open the door.

The first thing you notice is that, thankfully, the shop is empty. The second thing you notice is the bright sky blue walls, a green undertone peaking through. Your eyes scan nervously the interior. Frames with tattoo designs and people modeling other different designs decorate the walls, some skateboards also hanging from the ceiling. A few plants in the corner, and two leather couches on either side of the room. Your scanning stops on the counter, where a girl with short, platinium hair and -what you guess is- the eighty percent of her body inked. Face included. She's been looking at you, a smirk tugging at her lips. Her tone is amused when she speaks

"Hi." she says. "You can come closer, you know? We don't bite."

Great. As if you couldn't feel more out of place, apparently you also couldn't look more out of place.

"Sorry." you gulp as you walk forward. "It's my first time doing anything like this."

She laughs this time, but it's not mean. It's not mocking, thank God, and the smile she sends you is as warm as the weather, friendly, luckily helping you calm down a bit. "A virgin, huh? JK's gonna love this." your eyes jump in surprise, but she's fast to wave her hands in front of you. "Just a joke. So, first time getting a tattoo. You have something in mind, honey?"

"Um, no. Not a tattoo. Not yet, I think." you wet your lips, regretting not reaplying chapstick before stepping inside. "A piercing."

"Oh! Cool!" she claps her hands, too excited for your own taste, pulling from under the counter a catalogue. "So, where will it be? Cartilogue? Nose? A lot of people are getting their septums pierced right now, though, so you might-"

"Nipples. Like, one of them."

Her gaze finds yours in surprise, although her face swiftly transforms again into an amiable expression. "Now, that's badass. Alright!" she skims through the pages of the catalogue until she finds the nipple piercing collection. You scratch your head before wiping your forehead sweat-free. "You can pick either barbells or hoops, although barbells heal faster and they don't move around as much. There's different kinds of metal, too. Gold or platinium. If your skin is sensitive, I recommend titanium. It's hypoallergenic and not as problematic."

The blonde keeps talking as you nod your head, a smile making its way into your face while silently thanking her for her easygoing personality. It quickly makes you feel comfortable and stupid for being so terrified of doing this.

Once you decide, settle on the cost and sign the papers, she stands up from the stool she'd been sitting on. "Ok, I'll go tell my coworker. He's been sketching tattoos all morning, it's time he gets to work!" she laughs, but suddenly your smile banishes and your throat shuts down.

"He?" your alarmed tone halts her motions and she looks back at your frightened expression.

He? A he is going to pierce your nipple? You're about to let a random stranger, a HE, see and touch one of your boobs and then pierce a needle through one of your nipples?

"Oh, baby, don't worry. I'd do it myself if I knew how to, but I only do tattoos. Most of our staff are on summer vacation so it's mostly just him and I. If you don't feel comfortable, which is totally understandable, you can wait until september when Minzy comes back and she can do it for you." It's her turn to scratch the back of her head as she adds: "but trust me, we're professionals. He's not a creep or anything like that. He's been doing this for a long time. He won't cross any boundaries."

September? You won't even be here in september. Fuck.

Sure, you could do it when you move back into the city. But this summer was supossed to be the summer. You already decided after your breakup with Adam that there would be no trace of the old you. That it was time to push yourself, to do the things that you've always wanted to do, unapologetically. To find the new you, the real you. To stop being scared.

So after going through you options for a few seconds and taking a deep breath, you make up your mind.

"It's fine. I can do it."

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"JK, sweetheart!"

Jungkook is finishing drawing a Chinese dragon when Mijoo opens the door without knocking. Again. He puts the pen down, rubbing his eyes. It's monday, a slow monday, not much work, and he had hoped it would stay that way until closing time. It's summer and Jungkook hates summer. He hates the heat, he hates being drenched in sweat, and he hates the fact that he can do nothing about it. Because working in the summer is terrible. Summer makes him lazy, makes him want to bathe in a tub full of iced water and not get out until he turns into a raisin and october comes. It makes him irritable. Summer makes him annoyed by people -like Mijoo, even if he loves her to death- and himself.

"I got a girl here who wants a nipple piercing, her first piercing by the way, so get your shit ready and bla bla bla. Straight titanium barbell. Also, don't flirt and don't be creepy. She almost ran away when I told her a male was going to be touching and piercing her tit, be mindful of that. She's too cute, if you want to get her number you should wait until it's done. I think that's it. I'll bring her in in a minute."

Mijoo leaves as fast as she talks, but Jungkook is already used to it. He's already used to the headaches her mouth causes too. He sighs before standing up, tying his too-long raven hair into the best bun he can manage. He washes his hands, sets the table up, sits on the chair and puts the gloves on. He's too busy sterilizing the jewerly when Mijoo comes back with you.

"Alright, my babies. I'll leave you to it." she turns to you. "He'll explain everything, from how the process will be to how to take care of it after it's done." she leaves before saying bye, closing the door behind her, and then he finally turns to you.

Your eyes meet and suddenly everything stops. He almost drops the sterilizing machine, his whole body tensing, going into panic mode as he recognizes you immediatly. His hands shake.

Of course he does. Of course he recognizes his high school crush. The too goody two shoes, too pretentious and too rich, too good for everybody and, most importantly, 'too good for Jeon Jungkook' girl of his high school dreams. Of course he recognizes the girl he had confessed his stupid crush to when he was sixteen. Of course he recognizes the girl who rejected and broke his young and foolish heart when he was a dumb teenager.

It doesn't matter that six years have passed ever since. He still knows every lock of your hair like the palm of his hand. He still remembers the shape of your lips and the exact shade of your eyes. He can still identify the body he fantasized about -and jacked off to- when he was a hormonal teen, now filled in all the right places. Now a grown woman.

Just one look at you after years and years of pining is enough to almost make him faint. And grow a boner under his jeans.

And by the look on your face, your eyes wide and your mouth agape, you recognize him as well.

Dammit.

He schools his features and clears his throat. Forces his body to relax and compose himself, because he's not a teenager anymore. He's also a grown man, who has matured, who now has much more experience with women than he did back then. He had already embarrased himself enough when he was sixteen to be doing it all over again. You're just another attractive girl in a sea of attractive women.

He turns to you. You still haven't said anything. Neither has he.

"Um, you can sit on the table." he manages, motioning to the set up in front of him. He watches you taking doubtful steps until you're sitting down, your eyes avoiding his gaze. He almost forgot you were here to get pierced. Holy shit, you were here to get pierced. To get your nipple pierced.

You're a professional, Jungkook. You can do this, Jungkook. You've seen boobs before, Jungkook. You've pierced nipples before, Jungkook.

Clearing his throat again and forcing his hands to stay by his side, he speaks. "The... The top." your gaze finds his, like a puppy about to get scolded. You look at your top, realization dawning on you. "You don't have to take it off. You can just pull it down."

So you do, pulling the straps of the white tank top down and dragging the fabric down with trembling fingers. No bra. Jungkook gulps as your breasts comes into vision. As perfect as he had imagined years ago. His cock twitches. Round, full, perky and so damn inviting he has to hold himself back from latching onto one nipple with his mouth around it and swirling his tongue over the nub until you're a pretty, moaning, little mess on his piercing tabl-

He closes his eyes for just a second before reminding himself to act like the 23 year old Jungkook he's tried so hard to become. The confident, assured Jungkook he is.

"Okay, this is how it'll go. First I'll clean it and scrub it to get rid of any bacteria." he's so glad he hasn't stuttered yet. 23 year old Jungkook doesn't stutter like 17 year old Jungkook. He's also glad he can pick the alcohol bottle and the surgical scrub without trembling. When he faces you again, you're watching his motions with your lip caught between your teeth. That has him swallowing the lump in his throat.

Making eye contact with him again, you take a deep breath and offer a small nod, so he gets to work. He can show you and himself he's a grown man. A grown man who can pierce a nipple without appearing like it's the first time he's seen a boob in his life. The sooner he does it, the sooner it's over.

Jungkook wets the paper towel with alcohol before carefully wiping over your nub with it. Your back arches, probably from the cold feeling, he guesses. He rubs it a few times before throwing it in the trash can nearby. He avoids looking at how enticing the soft peak is salluting him when he reaches for the marker. He doesn't say anything when he dots it with it, jaw clenched and his dick painfully stiff.

"Lay back." his voice low as he commands, turning away to get the clamp. When he slides closer, he tries to ignore the view: you, with your hair sprawled and your sweaty, shiny skin and your eyes focused on the cieling, nipple fully erect, like the star of one of his most erotic dreams. He extends his free gloved hand before he can stop himself, fingers carefully working the nub until he's sure it's painfully hard. Almost as hard as he is.

You gasp, your back arching again. He stills and looks at you, your cheeks flushed pink. Probably from the heat, he guesses again. Or at least that's what he tells himself. He can't stop himself from wondering how responsive would you be in a different setting, most likely his bed while his teeth play with your breast and his cock dives into-

"You okay?" he studies your face, your eyes not meeting his and instead still focusing on the white ceiling.

"Mhm." you reply with a small voice.

"Relax, alright? It'll be over soon." his voice is as gentle as he can, his fingers mindlessly caressing your breast to try to soothe your nerves. Or maybe it's just because he's a selfish bastard. Whatever it is, he forces himself to bring the clamp to your nipple, securing it around it.

"Take a few deep breaths. This will only take a second of pain and then it will go away." He misses the way your mouth falls open, but he doesn't miss the way your eyes squeeze tight as the needle goes in.

"Ah!" he definitely doesn't miss that either. He goes rigid for a second, because that didn't fucking sound like a cry of painfulness. It's breathy, and whiny, not too loud and, for fucks sake, if that's how you sound when you're getting fucked, he swears to God-

He feels your heartbeat under his hands when he puts the barbell in and then the bandage over it. He takes a look at you, chest moving up and down. And then you take a look at him and what he sees is almost enough to take you right there.

Reddened cheeks, drops of sweat framing your face and those eyes glazed with something he's seen too much in the women he's fucked throughout his life. They're half lidded, mascara adorning your long lashes and almost smudged, looking right through him.

"Jungkook..." and your voice, as you say his name -acknowledging him for the first time since you stepped into his shop, for the first time since you were sixteen-, it's hoarse, almost inaudible, like you just came all over his-

He's on his feet in an instant like he's been burned. "It may bleed for the first week, and it can be really sore. The swelling will eventually come down." he's quickly tidying up the table, a bottle in his hand that he hands to you without looking directly. "Wash it gently with this soap and warm water once per day. Don't touch it. Wear a comfortable...bra. If it gets crusty, clean it with saline. Not alcohol or any other thing you might clean a wound with. The soap I just gave you or saline. Nothing else."

He's pacing around the room as he takes his gloves off and throws them in the trash bin, too agressively maybe, then he keeps rambling, like he's hurriedly trying to make you leave as soon as possible. "Avoid pools and the sea. It takes about six months to a year to heal, so don't... don't touch it, don't play with it or..." he clears his throat, "don't let anyone else play with it. And if it gets infected, come back immediately and I'll take a look at it." which he honestly hopes it won't happen. When he faces you, your top is back on and you're getting off the table.

"Alright, um...I'll do that." clearing your throat, your hand gripping the doorknob. "Thank you."

But right before you can exit the room, Jungkook says your name.

"_____." when you turn around to face him, it takes a few seconds for him to make eye contact from across the room. "It was good to see you."

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"Let me see!"

It's the first thing Chaelin says when she opens the door to her appartment. It's on the second floor, small enough to compare it to most expensive appartments you'd stayed in throughout your life, but big enough for Chaelin, her cat and her -impressive- collection of acrylic nail kits and pairs of high heels. It's also big enough for her to offer you the only guest room until summer is over so you didn't have to, one, stay at your parents' place, and two, find an appartment in a short period of time for a short period of time.

When you left years ago, you did so with the thought of 'never looking back'. You never really expected to return here, of all places. Maybe visit your best friend for a weekend at most, have dinner with your parents on a saturday and then go back to the new life you'd made for yourself on a sunday.

But that was before you'd caught Adam cheating.

Tale as old as time: childhood sweethearts get engaged, move in together, son of a bitch sleeps with the assistand he told his girlfriend not to worry about, and then the brokenhearted girl packs her bags and leaves the cheating bastard begging for her to come back.

You'd be lying if you said you were surprised.

Throughout your life, you'd learned to expect many things, regardless of being sheltered and babied by your family since you were born. Watched too much Maury and Dr.Phil. Too much Gossip Girl to know what the deal with life really is.

So, thankfully, you'd only shed a few tears, mostly because your ego and self steem were slightly triggered. You'd realize long before that your feelings for Adam started to disappear once he popped the question and you said yes. Your love story began as teenagers but soon after graduating, the two of you went on different paths: you'd matured, grown into your twenties while he got stuck at 17 and never stopped acting as such.

So yeah, whatever, break ups are hard. But they're not as hard when the love is gone and the sole reason to stay with your partner is to please your parents. You were also right when you expected your mom to tell you to 'forgive and forget' because 'those things just happen, it's not a big deal, honey'.

But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

The lanky nerd with braces, glasses and an anime obsession much bigger than his hentai obsession, which is saying a lot. The shy, awkward classmate who'd stuttered his undying crush for you when you were just kids. That one who you had rudely rejected like the bitch you used to be in high school.

But my God, Jeon Jungkook was anything but a kid now.

You were shocked. You were gagged. Couldn't seem to fathom what was happening and what your eyes were seeing. It took you a while to close your mouth when you realized JK was Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

With messy black hair, a smoldering gaze free of glasses, piercings adorning both ears, and his right eyebrow,, the braces long gone showing perfectly straight - but still bunny like- teeth. The clothes he wore were loose, all black, but it was impossible not to notice the muscles of his back and arms, covered with tattoos from his hands to his forearms. You'd bet there were more of them underneath the fabric.

It was awkward at first. You didn't know what to do, or what to say. Didn't know if he rememberd you. So you chose to stay quiet while your body chose to react like it had never been in the presence of an attractive young man in it's entire life.

And oh, did it react.

He was reluctant, his old timid demeanor peeking through his newly adopted persona. But as soon as those hands came in contact with your skin, your whole body was lit on fire. Like you were 16 and losing your virginity over again and it was the first time a dude touched your boobs.

There shouldn't have been anything erotic about it -besides the fact that your entire breasts were exposed-, it should've been just a professional procedure. But those gloved fingers touched and pinched and suddenly you were too aware of Jeon Jungkook and the way you were starting to sweat profously, not due to the heat of the season.

You tried to distract yourself by looking at the cieling and not at his gorgeous face. Tried to avoid thinking about Jeon Jungkook and how his mouth would feel wrapped around you. Tried not to think about the way your panties were a second skin to your folds, and how tempted you were to grind your hips until you recieved some sort of friction with the jean fabric of your shorts. You wonder if he noticed you squeezing your thighs together. You hope not.

And then the needle happened. You never thought of yourself as a particularly kinky person. Sex with Adam was boring for the most part and you'd lost your libido for a long time. Stopped thinking about sex altogether. But the pain. The pain mixed with his hand rubbing soothing circles on your breast and his voice, as sweet as honey, guiding you through it. It made you reconsider a lot of things you'd once dismissed as 'weird' or 'deviant'

You swear you almost came right on his table.

And then your eyes connected, you made the mistake of calling his name like a satisfied woman who still needed more, and it was all gone. He stood up like a scared cat, gave you a bunch of explanations about the aftercare that you barely grasped without even looking at you and pretty much rushed you to leave.

So you walked, all the way from the tattoo parlor to Chaelin's appartment, mortified, and completely humilliated.

"Are you gonna let me see or not?" your friend says expectantly as you finally sit down after chugging a glass of iced water. You sigh, placing the glass on the table before carefully pulling down your top. "Oh my God, it looks so cool!" she gasps and you can't help a smile while she studies it in amazement. "Did it hurt?"

"Um, I guess." you keep out the part where you almost orgasmed, obviously, stopping her hand from touching when she reaches towards you. "Wait, no. He said something about not touching it for like six months or a year, I don't remember."

At that, Chaelin's eyebrows quirk up. "He? It was a he? Was he cute, at least?"

"You won't believe this..." looking away for a few seconds, you take a deep breath. "It was Jeon Jungkook."

There's a pause, a silence that fills the room when Chaelin's jaw drops. "Jeon Jungkook...pierced your nipple?"

You close your eyes, bracing yourself for what you're a hundred percent sure is coming.

"Ha..." there it is. "Ha ha..." you still know there's more. "Ha ha ha..."

Chaelin laughs hysterically for about God knows how long, while you keep drinking your glass of water unfaced, your mind drifting back to Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie, his tattoos and his stupid gloved hands.

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You know he's here.

Everything was cool, you were doing alright, having a great time with your vodka sprite in hand and your cute white bikini on. Chaelin was by your side, the guys were excited to have you back and thankfully, you'd avoided most questions about Adam and they'd avoided digging too deep into the topic. You'd sunbathed the whole afternoon, kept away from the water like he'd told you and ate the Hawaiian pizza Yoongi insisted on ordering despite Namjoon's and Jimin's complaints.

It's at night, when you're a little tipsy and your cheeks are flushed, that you feel it. You'd barely noticed Taehyung disappearing to let in a new guest.

You don't see him, but you feel him.

You're sitting on the pool tile steps, legs dangling and the water baely reaching your belly to make sure it doesn't touch your very sensitive and newly pierced nipple. Your back is facing the sliding glass doors of Hoseok's house, but the moment you hear his voice, smooth but animated as he converses with Taehyung, your body wakes up immediately, back straightening, goosebumps forming on your arms and nipples tightening against the fabric of your two piece.

You don't turn around, instead opting for downing the remaining of your drink and coming to the realization that, of course, Taehyung, social butterfly who'd always got along with everybody and remained friends with most people from high school, still keeps in touch with Jungkook.

You ignore him when he enters the pool, still peering from the corner of your eyes while pretending to be engaged in Chaelin's and Jihyo's conversation. Your mind sabotages you by taking you to that day a week ago at the tattoo parlor.

To the warmth of his hand, to the few strands of hair that his small ponytail couldn't keep together, to the way his eyes focused on such an intimate part of your body, to the endless ink decorating his skin, to-

Great. Now your bottoms are wet and not due to the water.

You don't miss Chaelin supressing a laugh and her not so subtle elbowing. You glance at her in warning and try to keep calm for the next fifteen minutes until Jin proposes moving to the living room to watch a movie.

"I'm gonna stay here for a little longer, guys." you say, after clearing your throat. You needed some time to gather yourself before being in a confined space with Jungkook.

"Are you sure?" Jin stops by your side to place a hand on your shoulder as everybody starts exiting the pool. "It's Mean Girls! You love Mean Girls! You never miss a minute of Mean Girls!"

Rolling your eyes, you wave him dismissively. "I know every dialogue on Mean Girls like the back of my hand, I think I'll be alright, Jin."

When everybody finally leaves, you take a deep breath, covering your face with your hands in an attempt to get him out of your head. Damn Jeon Jungkook and his irresisitble glow up.

"You okay?"

The unexpected voice startles you, a gasp finding its way out of your mouth and causing you to jump on your seat, heartbeat erratic as you instantly recognize who it belongs to. Your hand grasps your chest as if that would do anything to protect yourself against him.

"Shit, don't do that!" you say, the words almost getting stuck in your throat as you see him approaching you, still submerged in the pool. The more he nears you, the less water depth there is and the more visible his torso comes into view. Wich was exactly what you'd been avoiding.

Because Jeon Jungkook was ripped, as you'd imagined when you first encountered him.

Broad shoulders and strong biceps and chiseled abs and veiny forearms. Drenched hair, a full sleeve of tattoos and water dripping from delicious tan skin and all just so very hard. That paired up with a loopsided smile that does nothing but make you shudder.

"Sorry." he doesn't sound apologetic at all when he says that, the smirk adorning his features telling. "You just seemed a little off." you advert your gaze when he pushes his hair back.

"I'm fine, just...just wanted to be by myself."

"Oh" Jungkook's smile disappears. "I can leave, if you want me t-"

"No!" you're not sure where that comes from and neither does he, judging by the look on his face when your eyes find his. Eyebrows raised and mouth slightly parted, he's as surprised as you and there's an awkward silence for a few seconds. "Um, you don't have to. I mean, it's not my house, you can do whatever you want." you sniff and tame your voice, trying to seem cool and collected like you didn't just practically beg him not to go.

Ironic, considering this was exactly what you had been fearing for the past thirty minutes.

And then he smiles. A knowing smile. A smile that says 'you just totally checked me out and now you don't want me to leave'. A smile that you would have never associated with Jeon Jungkook of all people years ago. A smile that makes you want to look away but still keeps you in place.

"Sure." he says, closing the space between the two of you slowly but still leaving enough distance. "So, how's it going?"

You clear your throat, head high and determined not to let this man, or any man for that matter, turn you into a trembling mess. You're still you and you're not easily shaken by the opposite sex. Or at least that's what you helplessly chant in your head.

"Everything's cool. I'm on summer vacation now," a little white lie, "so I decided to-"

"The piercing." he says, the smile never leaving his face. "I meant how's the piercing."

"The pier- right." you almost miss the step he takes forward, all too aware of his height over yours but thankful for the centimeters that being propped on the stairs added to yours. "It's-" you almost, almost miss his knee touching your knee and him slightly separating your legs with his own inch by inch. Or how your thighs open unvoluntarely to welcome him in and how you can barely find coherent words to speak. "It's doing-" or the way his smile disappears and is instead focusing his dark stare fully onto yours.

"It's doing well." you finally say in a whisper, not being able to bring yourself to be louder.

He hums. "May I see it?" Jungkook wets his lips with the tip of his tongue and the action and his voice is enough to make you nod your head, bewitched.

His movements are unhurried, his hand coming up to tentatively come in contact with the flesh of your clavicle. His fingers skim through your skin upwards, his touch is feather-like when it wraps around your throat. You pant, and he stops but he doesn't move away, his eyes still focused on yours, studying you, daring you to pull back, to tell him to back off. But just a simple touch of his and you're fully under his control. It reminds you too much of the day you got that damn piercing.

Your lips are parted and for a moment he stays just like that. His body so close to yours but not close enough, and his hand slightly gripping your neck. Your pussy clenches around nothing and you can't wrap your head around the fact that something so simple sets your entire being alive and leaves you aching.

Then, as slow as he started, his hand travels from the front of your neck to the back, pushing your hair aside to carefully untie the straps of your bikini. He breathes through his nostrils, doesn't make a sound. He seems so collected it's starting to annoy you.

Instead, your breathing is ragged when the top falls down, exposing both your breasts to him. That's when he removes his eyes from yours and his jaw clenches. Your nipples perk up under his gaze, like they remember him and the effect he had on them just a week ago. You're at least glad you're not the only one affected but he seems to be a master at keeping it under wraps.

Then, his hand moves again, leaving goosebumps on your skin as it goes south. Jungkook takes his time, so deliberate you want to scream, until he's cupping your pierced breast, keeping away from the nipple just like he'd advised you a few days prior. You can't look away from his face, from his eyes observing you like you're a full course meal and he's been starving for days. You feel drops of water falling from his hair to your thighs, his thumb caressing your skin so delicately as it faintly nears your still tender nipple. Just nearing it, never touching it.

"Beautiful." his murmur is almost imperceptible and for a moment you think you've imagined it. Your back arches on its own, breast pushed against the palm of his hand, almost like your body is begging him to come closer, to touch you more, to feel you all over. He meets your eyes briefly, gauging your reaction, before going back to your chest. Suddenly, the grip on your breast tightens, fingers ever so softly squeezing your flesh. From your throat comes a mewl, your eyes shut and your legs close around his waist.

"Jungkook, please..." you whisper when you open your eyes. He looks at you, unvertainty written all over his face, lips bruised as if he had been biting on them too hard, gaze as glassy as yours. And just like that, the spell is broken. He blinks and his expression changes completely. Lips forming a straight line and jaw tight. His hand retracts, fixing your bikini top over your breasts before tying it around your neck like it originally was. Meanwhile your eyebrows crunch in confusion. But when you're about to start asking questions, he clears his throat.

"It's healing okay." he steps back, avoiding your eyes. "I'll see you inside."

Jungkook leaves the pool like nothing happened.

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Jungkook is fiddling, fixing the position of his glasses and combing through his straight hair with shaky hands, habits he's tried so hard to get rid of in his sixteen years of existence but still finds impossible to.

He can't help it. He's always been like this: the quiet and awkward kid in class who sits in the back, a misunderstood puppy in a sea of stronger dog breeds that could eat him alive. An outcast. Too geeky for his own good. Notebokes full of Dragon Ball doodles on the margins of the pages, the shelves in his room stacked with Marvel figurines, and a closet filled with outdated clothes that he has been inheriting from his older brother.

He has never been the type to stand out, always being overlooked by people like he's invisible. He doesn't mind though. He'd much rather be ignored than getting picked on by bullies like he used to in elementary school.

He never gets invited to parties. Ever. He's a nobody who barely speaks, and when he does he either stutters or manages to embarrass himself in one way or another. He's seen the look on people's faces when they look at him. Their eyes seem to scream 'weirdo' everytime he gets acknowledged.

So obviously the only reason he was invited to this particular party had a first and last name: Kim Taehyung. The only kid in Jungkook's entire life who didn't look at him in a funny way, the only kid who took the time to entangle in a random conversation with him after class and who seemed geniune enough to make Jungkook feel comfortable.

He's not sure how it happened, since Taehyung mostly hangs out with the cool kids. But somehow it did, and now Jungkook is uncomfortably standing in a living room full of drunk teens, looking directly at you.

You, the one girl Jungkook had been pining on for God knows how long. You, who are obviously too pretty, too popular, and way out of his league. You, with your plaid skirt and your polo shirt and those legs that never seem to end. You, who are sitting with your friends in a couch, drink in hand and visibly tipsy. And yet, he doesn't think he's ever seen anyone pull of the 'drunk-rosy-cheek' look better than you.

He can hear your laugh through the music and he already thinks it sounds better than whoever is playing in the background.

"Come on, Gukkie! Her friends are leaving and she's all by herself now! It's your chance" Taehyung's obviously drunk too because it took Jungkook a while to decypher his exact words. He'd disappeared for a while and now that he's back, he's pushing Jungkook in your direction.

"This was a mistake, Taehyung." Jungkook shakes his hair and steps back, quickly glancing at the front door to prepare his escape. But his new friend's grip on his hoodie keeps him in place.

"Guk, listen. The only thing you have to do, is walk up to her, and say 'hey I think you're, like, really pretty. Just letting you know. Bye!' That's it. Jung- Dude, Guk, seriously, look at me." Taehyung grabs Jungkook's cheeks, squishing them between his hands and forceing him to face him. "You've been crushing hard on her for years, my man. We're graduating and you won't see each other again. What's the worst thing that can happen? Getting rejected?"

Jungkook's eyebrows draw together. "Um, yeah?"

"Exactly! Getting rejected is not the end of the world, bro! It just means keep trying on other girls!" Taehyung releases his hold on Jungkook's cheeks. "I just think you're going to regret not telling your crush she's your crush. Who knows? Maybe in the future you two will get married."

Jungkook snickers, muttering a 'yeah right' under his breath. Still, he can't help the smile that Taehyung's words always seem to pull out of him.

"Now," Taehyung playfully slaps Jungkook before turning him in your direction again. "Go get 'em, tiger!"

"Okay," Mijoo's voice slices through Jungkook's memories. She's sitting on Jungkook's desk, munching on her brownies and looking at her coworker expectantly. "And then what?"

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, sits back on his chair, already feeling the effects of Mijoo's baked goods. "And then I walked up to her, like a damn fool, stutter and all. And I say:" he clears his throat, making an effort to do his best teenage Gukkie impression."'Hey, _____, um, so, I think you're beautiful and I've had a crush on you since seventh grade, haha, just wanted to let you know.'"

Mijoo rolls her eyes, still chewing. "And then what?"

"And then she looked me up and down, giggled, fucking giggled, Mijoo, and said 'Who are you, again?'" Mijoo gasps and Jungkook closes his eyes, trying to force that recollecion out of his head.

"What a bitch." she can't help but laugh before apologizing. Jungkook merely shrugs his shoulders and takes another bite of his brownie. "She didn't say anything else?"

"She said something along the lines of:" he clears his throat again, this time, doing an impression of you. "'That's sweet and all but, you and I... we're not the same. And I have a boyfriend, so...' She said that like I didn't know, like I wasn't aware of the school's it couple! Like I was dumb!"

Mijoo nods. "And now you want to fuck her even more than you did in high school."

"I- No! Well, yes. Fuck, of course I want to sleep with her! But I just... can't."

"Why not?"

"Did you hear anything about what I just told you or were you too concentrated trying to get high?"

It's Mijoo's turn to roll her eyes. "I heard everything you just told me. I just don't understand what the problem is. You two were sixteen. Sure, she was a bitch about it, but Lord knows I've been a bitch my entire life and now I'm not anymore." Jungkook raises an eyebrow at that. "Okay, sometimes I can be nice. But the point is..." Mijoo finishes her piece of brownie before getting off of Jungkook's desk. "It's been, what? Nine? Ten years? People change, JK. You're the best example of that. You want to fuck her and she obviously wants to fuck you too. You're both adults." she wipes her hands on her shorts. "I think it's time you fulfill that high school fantasy of yours."

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You've made up your mind.

And by you, it means Chaelin has made up your mind.

It didn't take long to convince you though. That last interaction with Jungkook cause too many emotions stirring within you. It left you hot, it left you bothered, it left you confused. Sure, it also left you a little bit embarrassed like the first time, but above everything else, that interaction with Jungkook left you absolutely livid.

Because who the fuck did Jeon Jungkook, formerly known as Guk, Gukkie, Jungukkie, and currently known as JK, think he was to come near you, speed your heart rate's up, and then runaway like that?

You've spent days thinking about it. About that face, about that body, about those hands and- shit. You're doing it again.

You've spent days trying to push those intrusive thoughts. Spent days trying to bury what happened. You've spent days trying to keep quiet, not telling anyone about it and just wishing that stupid spark of desire simply went away.

But it has just been simply unavoidable. You haven't been able to ignore the sleepless nights with your brain drifting back to that night and forbidding your hand from slipping under your panties. Or the excessive amount of time during the day where images of him suddenly popped in your head and wouldn't go away, even with you squeezing your thighs to try to make the ache go away.

So you ended up ranting and ranting and ranting to the only person you could confide on, who is obviously your best friend. Your best friend, who's too smart for her own good and knows you too well for your liking. Because apparently your moodiness and snappy remarks couldn't go unnoticed.

And after explaining the fiasco over a bottle of wine -and minutes of endless laughing on Chaelin's part because, again, it's Gukkie you two were talking about and, according to her, this was "the most karmic thing I've ever seen"-, she gave you the best advice an older sister could ever give.

"Fuck him."

"I know right? Fuck him!"

"No. I mean, fuck him."

And now here you are. Right inside that room you stepped in weeks ago, confronting the man in question with the same confidence that has always distinguished you from others and trying to act like the fluttering inside your belly wasn't nauseauting.

"A date."

"Yes."

"You want to go on a date with me." this wouldn't be so hard if Jungkook didn't look so delectable in a plain white t-shirt and ripped jeans. You cross your arms over your chest, doing your best to not look down at the exposed skin of a man who obviously worked out a lot and apparently, never skipped leg day. "What's the catch?"

He's sitting on his chair, back resting comfortably and legs spread, narrowing his eyes at you and probably wondering why the girl at the front desk let you in without an appointment. Also, probably wondering if there was a catch to all of this.

"There's no catch. I just want to go to the fair this weekend. I'll ask Taehyung for your number and text you the date and the exact place we'll be meeting. Unless..." your quirk one of your eyebrows. "Unless you're already planning on how you'll chicken out this time."

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Of course, Jungkook says yes to going on a date with his high school crush but spends the following days overthinking every single thing.

He can't help but feel like it's kinda sketchy. What if you're planning your vendetta on him? What if you don't even show up and he ends up there looking like a damn idiot? What if you hate him and are just messing up with him? What if that incident in high school is going to repeat itself?

"If she doesn't show up, you simply move on and never speak to her again. It's that simple. She can't have that much power over you to cry about something like that." Mijoo had said that same day she let you in the tattoo parlor after you'd asked to see Jungkook. Jungkook's coworker hadn't even question you and just motioned you to Jungkook's room with a knowing smile on her face. Later that day, Jungkook had scolded her about it and she'd simply shrugged.

He considers cancelling, eyes reading the 'won't be able to make it, sorry (sad face emoji)' over and over again and fingers hovering over the send button so many times he's lost count. But then he remembers that comment of yours about him chickening out and Jungkook starts seeing red.

How couldn't you understand he's just terrified of you rejecting him one more time? Sure, Jungkook is now an adult who doesn't get butthurt over stuff like that. He's experienced too much after graduating from high school and he's a much stronger individual than his fragile self back was back then.

But something about you just makes him feel so... weak.

He still finds it impossible to concieve where he got the courage to approach you like that at Taehyung's pool, or how he brought himself to touch you for longer than a minute without coming in his pants. He'd enjoyed it too much. Allowing him to see you so exposed, just for him. He'd be so tempted to kiss you right there and then, to run his hands up and down your thighs and fully wrap your legs around him to let you known how much you'd affected him. Once you called his name, it was like he'd finally snapped out of it and backed away like he'd been burned by you. He spent the next twenty minutes trying to keep himself from pulling down his pants and jerking off in his friend's bathroom.

It's terrible. Because he feels like the teenager he used to be when you're around. Shy, insecure and overall a mess. You showing up in his life after so many years and now apparenly being interested in him seems like a dream that he's not sure he wants to keep being in or wake up from before it's too late and he falls back into that tumoltuous longing that will inevitably end up in heartbreak. His heartbreak.

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It's saturday night, he's standing by himself in the crowded fair at the spot. You're fifteen minutes late and he's already about to turn back and dip out. He feels too awkward and the nerves are eating him alive.

You're not going to show up. You're not going to show up and now he feels and looks even dumber than the time he told you he was crushing on you. You're not even going to show up and now he's going to come back home, get drunk by himself and curse your name for-

"Hey!" he turns around to the sound of your voice and sees you running towards him. "Sorry I'm late! I couldn't find my phone and spent like thirty minutes looking for it. Turns out, Sharon Stone, was taking a nap on top of it and I didn't even notice."

"Sharon Stone?"

"Chaelin's cat."

To be honest, he's too surprised to process your explanation right away. He might also be a little speechless because that sky blue sundress looks too good on your skin and your eyelashes are so long, framing your beautiful eyes, and your lips are all glossy and kisseable that it takes him a while to find his own voice.

He clears his throat. "It's alright." scratching the back of his head, he momentarely adverts his gaze from you in an attempt to not get distracted by how soft your hair looks and how much he wants to wrap it around his hands in a ponytail. "Um, where do you want to go first?"

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Almost an hour and a half later, when the sun has already disappeared and you're both surrounded by colorful lights, Jungkook decides to buy the both of you hot dogs and a drink and you both settle down on a bench.

You've been walking all over the fair, going from booth to booth, playing any game in sight Jungkook dared you to -he obviously had a competitive streak-: from the ballon and dart games, to the shooting games, to the bumping cars, to the ball-in-basket one. To say you were having fun was an understatement.

You'd almost regretted setting the date up. You were sure he wouldn't even show up and if he did, you were scared of how awkward things could get between the two of you. And if things were awkward, you were sure it would only take less than thirty minutes for the both of you to part ways and never talk again about such failure of a date.

To your surprise, none of that happened.

The conversation was flowing, both of you acting like you were strangers on their first date getting to know each other, which, to be fair, that's exactly what it felt like. There was a slight banter, teasing each other when one of you lost in whatever game you were playing while the other was obviously winning. There were laughs and a funny feeling in your tummy whenever you'd walk side by side and his arm brushed yours.

There was no stiffness on his shoulders, no mention of the past or your previous encounters, no acknowledgement of the blatant sexual tension you'd experienced before, not an ounce of avoidance whenever your eyes met his and he was even sure of himself enough to place a hand on your lower back or briefly interwine your fingers with his to guide you through the mass of people.

It felt like you'd both unspokenly agreed on making each other feel comfortable enough to have a good time.

"I didn't think you were going to show up, to be honest." you suddenly say, taking a sip of your strawberry juice and thankful to finally let your feet rest for a while.

Jungkook looks at you, hot dog mid air and eyebrows almost disappearing into his hairline. "You didn't think I was going to show up? I didn't think you were going to show up." you simply shrug, lowering your gaze seepishly, the beginning of a smile on both your faces. He surprises you by tilting your head in his direction with his forefinger. You watch him watching you, a little dazed, a little lost in how his dark hair messily falls over his forehead and his equally dark eyes study your face, his thumb swiping over your lower lip. "You um... There was ketchup right there." he lies.

"Oh" you say, feeling your face heating up. "Thanks. Red doesn't really match this dress." you manage a smile and tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear.

At that, he eyes your dress for a moment, mouth slightly ajar. He's debating on whether or not to say something but you beat him to it.

"I'm sorry, by the way."

"For being late? I already told you it's fin-"

"No." you shake your head. "For... that time when we were young and I was such a concieted brat." you say, looking away , trying to find anything else that's not his pretty face. "I thought I was a queen bee back then. I was annoying and rude, specially to you. I..." you lick your lips. The cherry glittery gloss was already gone. "I thought it was cute, what you said. There was no reason for me to act like that. I know this doesn't make anything right but..." when you turn to face him again, there's still the same expression on his face. "I'm sorry."

A few seconds go by before it's him who's shaking his head. "It's okay. It was a long time ago, anyway." he smiles at you, although it doesn't reach his eyes and seems sorta forced. You sigh, and he takes your hand. "Let's go to the ferris wheel."

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tell you're tense. You're sitting right beside him in the ferris cabin, your back is all straight, you're facing forward and he believes you haven't blinked for what feels like an eternity. He thinks it has everything to do with your conversation a few minutes ago. You were probably not content with his response but what could Jungkook do? There was really no point in apologizing for something that happened years ago, but at the same time, he didn't want to hold anything against you like a resentful asshole because it was really not who he was. But there was still a little bit of stingyness inside of him and he didn't know how to make it go away.

At the end of the day, here you were, on a date with him that you'd asked for, getting along and asking questions about him and laughing at his jokes and trying to start all over again.

But then the ferris wheel starts moving, and he finally understands why you look so uncomfortable.

It's the way you immediately grip his forearm, nails digging in his skin and he swears he hears the smallest gasp forcing itself out your throat.

"Are you... scared?" he tentatively asks.

You say nothing for a while, not moving an inch. He would laugh if you didn't look so pained about it.

"I don't like small confined spaces nor rollercoasters." you finally say through gritted teeth.

"It's not really that small and ferris wheels are not rollercoasters. " your nails dig deeper and he winces. "Okay, okay. You don't like small confined spaces nor rollercoasters, and that includes ferris wheels. So why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know. I've never liked ferris wheels but you seemed excited about it, so..."

There's a silence after that in the environment, neither of you exactly sure of what to say or how to act. Until Jungkook moves one of his hands hands until it's resting on the one who's holding onto him for dear life, fingers caressing yours. The warmth of his hand spreads through yours and although it's almost July and you can already feel your sweaty back staining your dress, it's oddly comforting. What's more comforting even, is him twisting his body towards you and talking with the calmest and most soothing tone you've ever heard.

"Look at me." you do instantly, unwillingly, and kinda wish you hadn't. It's almost as if your body will do anything he says without question. Like he has some sort of power over it to just react however he wants. His eyes bore into yours and suddenly the cab doesn't seem so suffocating. "It's just you and me right now. We're not even on a ferris wheel." the corners of his mouth turn slowly upwards. You zone out the environment, suddenly too aware of him and how close he is and how loud the beating of your heart is to your own ears.

"Jungkook."

You swallow the knot in the back of your throat when he removes his hand from yours. It almost makes you protest, - now realizing you've losened the tight grip on his arm- , before it craddles your face, keeping you in place while bringing his body closer.

"You have to stop saying my name like that."

With his thigh touching your thigh, your whole demeanor melts. When he leans closer, and you feel his breath fanning over your lips, your eyes shut closed.

"Tell me I can-" he starts to say.

"Yes." you finish for him. He doesn't doubt on closing the distance between you two. His lips touch yours and your body shakes in excitement. It's just him lightly skimming your lips with his but it's already too much and at the same time, not enough. It has you deepening it, yourself moving closer when he kisses you again. It has you relaxing against him, the tenseness prior disappearing and making you arch your back when his tongue asks for permission.

But it's exactly then, the moment you open your lips to him, that has you losing your mind.

The sparks fly, traveling from your head to your toes and then settling on the pit of your stomach as soon as the kiss starts to turn desperate and rough. When he nibbles your lips with his teeth, it makes you mewl and whine and your nipples tight against the cotton of your dress. It makes the metal barbell to feel uncomfortable, slightly painful. And when he goes back to being messy and filthy with his tongue tangled with yours, your thighs close on their own.

He forces himself to pull his hand back and bring it down, finding the parting of yd opening them for him. "Wait," you say, your fingers wrapping around his forearm as you try to catch your breath."The ferris-" he shuts you up with another kiss.

"We're not on a ferris wheel." he reminds you, a soft whisper against your mouth. And for whatever reason, you believe him.

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"He fingered you on the ferris wheel."

"Yes."

"And you came before the ride was over."

You take a small sip of wine, your eyes focusing on the TV where a rerun of the Golden Girls is playing, although, to be fair, lately you haven't been able to pay much attention to anything else but a certain brunet with doe eyes and kisseable lips. "Yes."

She hums, stealing a handful of popcorn from the bowl between your thighs.

"How long did it took? Like five minutes?"

There's a pause in which you clench your jaw, your fingers twitching around the glass in your hand, and then you answer. "Probably less."

There's another pause, and then-

"Ha...Ha ha...Ha ha ha-"

You let her laugh. It's okay. You knew you had it coming.

Chaelin knows the pillow you throw right at her face is also something she had coming.

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It's not that you're mad.

Jungkook and you had a great time on that fair date, he made you laugh, bought hot dogs and drinks for the two of you and got you off inside the cab of a ferris wheel on record time with those magical, long fingers of his. Technically, there shouldn't be anything to be angry about.

Except it's been a week and you can't stop thinking about him, about wanting more, and about those words that he left you with after the ferris wheel ride ended, when you had tried to return the favor.

'Next time, maybe.'

And there hasn't been a next time.

The thought of texting him or giving him a call to ask for another date is persistent in your mind. It remains while you do the laundry or wash the dishes, while you shower, while you eat or while you spend your days at the beach with Chaelin. There's always the incessant desire to reach out towards your phone, unlock it and dial his number to beg for more.

But you'd never been one to beg, so you resist the urge everytime that feeling starts to creep up on you and it washes over you like a wave. You silence your phone and try to concentrate on making the most out of your summer.

It's one random night, when you're tiredly dragging your feet across Chaelin's apartment's carpet, yawning and ready to succumb to a well needed slumber, that you see your phone screen's lighting up with a message.

Your heart pathetically leaps inside your chest when you read his name.

'you free on saturday?'

You wish you could say you ghosted him, ignored his text and moved on with your life until it was him who begged you for another date. But the truth is you opened it in a matter of seconds and typed 'i'm free, why?' back in a rush with trembling fingers.

So now you're on the passanger seat of his car while he sits on the driver seat, the first saturday night of July, like he's Danny Zuko and you're Sandy Olsson, watching a vintage movie in a drive-in theater which plot you don't give a shit about, even if Jungkook's date plan idea made something inside of you churn with adoration.

And the only reason why you don't give a single damn about the movie playing in front of your eyes, is because you're hot. Way too hot. And the reason and cause is none other than the boy-now-turned-man sitting on your left.

You barely exchanged words when he picked you up, just rode in silence until you got to your destination and you bet he can feel as well as you do the tension in the air.

You've surveyed him a few times from the corner of his eye, noticing him fiddling with the rings around his fingers and shifting in his seat from time to time. And if the sight of his fingers bring memories that you've tried to bury to keep yourself from lunching towards him, a brief glance at his forearms, adorned with ink drawn through his golden flesh -doing a poor job at concieling the veins running underneath- and his skin-tight jeans wrapping those muscled thighs of his is enough to have you be the one squirming in your seat.

A woman can only endure so much, and you come to that realization thirty minutes into the movie.

"I want to suck your cock." you say, a stern expression on your face as you turn your body in his direction.

Jungkook frozes as your voice slides over him. It takes him a couple seconds to look at you, shock widening his eyes and parting his lips.

"Huh?" he manages, his grip on the steering wheel turning his knuckles white.

Without separating your gaze from his, you gather your hair and tie it in a ponytail with the hair tie previously around your wrist. You don't miss the quick glance he sneaks into the curvature of your neck and the valley between your breasts.

Inching forward, closing in on him, you place one of your hands on top of his thigh, the action making his whole body tense. "____..." he whispers your name in a warning that doesn't sound convincing even in his own ears.

You smile, your eyes never wavering from his as your hand inches upwards, slowly caressing over the fabric of his jeans until you finally come across what you were looking for.

His hand flies to your wrist, stilling your movements. "____, this is not-". He starts, but his voice gets stuck inside his throat when you palm his undoubtly growing erection.

"Shh." your shaky breath fans over his cheek and you force yourself on your knees on the passanger seat in a more comortable possition to stop the trembling to reach them.

You fumble with the belt holding his pants in place, then with the button and finally with the zipper. He helps you by lifting his hips to pull his jeans and boxers to his thighs and you have to bite back a mixture between a gasp and a moan at the sight below you. You haven't even seen Jeon Jungkook naked all the way, but the mere sight of his hard cock with pre-cum glistening on his crown is probably the sexiest thing you've ever had the pleasure of appreciating.

It gets sexier when you wrap your hand around the base and his body melts in the driver seat, throwing his head back with his eyes shut. It gets even sexier when you finally lower your head, swirling your tongue over the head before finally engulfing him fully in the wet warmth of your mouth.

"Shit." his voice is tight, uneven as his hand loosely grips your ponytail, as if careful not to accidentally hurt you and break the glorious moment.

Although you wouldn't mind at all. Because the moment your hands are on him, and your tongue is on his shaft, that's the only thing you care about. Your belly is twisting, an undeniable wet spot on your panties as the fabric sticks to your folds, and the more you suck Jungkook, the more you want from him. His earthy taste is addicting and the soft little whimpers he occasionally can't prevent himself from are making you want to milk him until he can't take it no more. There's this desire within you to whorship him and his cock like you had been dreaming for the past weeks.

"This is s-so fucking h-hot." he rasps between ragged breaths, the bobbing of your head, sliding up and down his dick as your hand works the centimeters your mouth can't take is about to make him faint.

"Getting a blowjob?" you joke, your throat starting to feel sore as you kiss his leaking tip.

"N-no." he draws in a rough breath when you take him all of him again. "You giving me a blowjob... T-the f-fact that anyone c-could see us..." he darts a quick glance at your body, your ass up in the air and your dress sliding down, almost exposing you completely. "The fact that-ah! Shit..." he squeezes his eyes when he feels a glob of your spit lubricating him.

There's a sudden need to make you feel the same, to touch your skin and have you shaking the same way you have him. So one of his hands travels from your spine, to your perked ass, finally dragging the cotton of your dress to allow himself to see your thin white panties. "The fact that anyone could see you l-like this," he murmurs, regaining a little bit of control when he squeezes one of your cheeks. "letting t-them see you s-sucking my cock and..." he smirks when he feels you gasping around him, his fingers trapped between your thighs and pushing them inside your heat easily "and letting them see me fingering this pretty little pussy."

Soon after that he's cumming in your mouth while you're cumming around his fingers.

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At first, it's mostly on weekends when you see each other. Weekends of stolen kisses and soft sighs and whispering against each other's lips. Then weekends turn to week days, sitting on grass while sipping on refreshing beverages, drawing each other laughs, elbows touching as you walk around the park side by side because the both of you are too scared to interwine your fingers together.

Jungkook feels content like this: sitting on the sand with you between his thighs, admiring the sunset while nuzzing your neck and inhaling your scent every now. He likes waching you enoying your strawberry ice cream, almost forgetting the chocolate chip one already melting in his hand.

"If you were an ice cream flavor,which one would you be?" you ask him, relaxing against his chest.

"Rocky road."

"Why?"

He shrugs behind you. "Everyone likes rocky road."

You hum, playfully rolling your eyes. "What about me? Which ice cream flavor would I be?"

"Lemon sherbet, in the summer."

"Lemon sherbet? Out of all of the flavours out there, you're rocky road and I'm lemon sherbet?"

"Lemon sherbet, in the summer." he corrects.

"Okay, fine. Why?"

"You're boring and basic."

You gasp, trying to feign outrage but not being able to repress the laugh that escapes your throat. You elbow him, his laugh mixing with yours while taking the time to wrap his arms around your form, the breeze blowing your hair allowing him a spot between your neck and your shoulder. "You're boring and basic, but once you have a taste..." he presses a small kiss on your skin, causing the tiny hairs on the nape of your neck to rise. "Once you have a taste, specially on the hottest day in the middle of summer, you can't stop tasting and licking until there's no more lemon sherbet left."

You suck in on a breath when he craddles your jaw to face him. "It's been my favourite flavor since I was a kid." he kisses you immediately after, his lips swallowing the small whimper now stuck in your throat.

You close your eyes as his tongue opens your mouth, arousal blasting your insides and something much, much deeper that you fear to even name shredding your chest.

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The beginning of august comes faster then you two realize, but what you both do realize is how hard it's becoming to stay away from each other.

It's been thirty days of dates happening almost everyday, sharing high school memories and anecdotes of the time you spent away from each other. Hours of getting to know each other and opening up to each other. From failed relationships to new friendships. Of park dates walking side by side and fingers now interwined because you both realized one day that, fuck it.

It's difficult to sleep when you realize you're starting to catch serious feelings for somebody who was just supposed to be a fling. It's hard to sleep when his face, his voice and his touch and thoughts of missing him when you don't see each other start haunting you at night.

It's hard for Jungkook to focus on work when you're everything that's occupying his mind. Because he has a hundred sketches to make but he's too busy thinking about the hundred different sketches he would make of you.

It's hard not to send him a goodnight text, just like it's hard for him not to reply in a matter of seconds, almost as if he was already waiting to recieve it.

Jungkook thinks of you at night. Of how pretty and absolutely perfect you are for him. Of the taste of your lips, the way your hair feels between his fingers, or the flush on your cheeks when he makes you cum as droplets of sweat accumulate between your breasts. He thinks about your voice. He also thinks about the amount of hours left to be able to listen to it again.

But mostly he thinks about how ridiculous this situation is. Because he was stupidly crushing on you when you were only teenagers, daydreaming about a chance with you. And now his crush is long gone and he's starting to realize that he's falling, and falling fast.

You, too, think of Jungkook at night. Of his ability to bring a smile out of you, to soothe you with just a few words and filling your belly excitement, happiness and feelings you're sure you've never felt before.

Jungkook's managed to imprint himself in your dreams, and you, in his.

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Getting drunk with Jungkook is fun and messy.

It's fun because he lets loose, he stutters a lot like he used to do when he was a teenager and he makes you laugh louder than ever before. It's messy because he has no control over his hands as they explore your body, clumsily taking your clothes off as his mouth laps at the breast he's allowed to touch.

He's more forceful and dominating too, pinning your hands above your head, and commanding you to keep them right there, on the pillows of his bed. When you rebel against it, your fingers finding the hard planes of his chest, he pulls away from you and places them back where he left them. "Don't make me tie you up." he threatens, and your body shudders beneath him.

He sucks, and bites and leaves marks all over your skin, grunting in response to your moans. Creating a path of kisses from your lips to your stomach, his shoulders separating your knees, opening you up only for him. And thankfully, when you reach down to tug at the strands of hair framing his face, he lets you, because he knows you need something to hold on to the moment his tongue eats you up. He leaves his fingertrips on your thighs as he keeps you in place, not allowing you to runaway. Just forcing you to take it as he takes from you.

And when you cum, he doesn't back away. He keeps sucking, and licking and punishing you with his mouth until you're cumming over and ove again, screaming and begging for his cock.

Having Jungkook over you, both completely naked, skin to skin and only sweat in between is more than you could've ever fantazised about. He slurls your name when he puts the condom on. He would do anything to feel you raw, but he also knows he wouldn't be able to last a minute. The sight of you spread open, with your cheeks darkened by a crimson blush and your hair tangled all over his pillow is a picture he wants to keep forever.

He enters you when you call his name, your voice dripping with need. He stretches your warm and wet felsh, slowly easing himself into you at first, until he's fully inside and your bodies are completely in union. A shiver runs down Jungkook's spine when he looks at your contorted face in pleasure, your lips forming an 'O' and your pussy clenching around him.

"Oh, my God." you moan into the dark of Jungkook's room, and even then, he can clearly appreciate every curve of your body lifting off the mattress to connect with his. He lowers himself on his elbows on either side of your head, caging you in and capturing your mouth with his.

"I know, baby." he murmurs. It's hot, in the middle of August but suddenly Jungkook doesn't hate summer as much as he used to. Not with you sharing the heat with him. "It's way beyond what I could ever imagine." You nod hurriedly against his lips, your arms finding their way around his neck as he starts rocking in and out of you.

"It's too good." you cry, when he hits a particular spot that has you rolling your eyes in bliss and gripping his waist tighter with your legs against you. Your fingers thread through his hair, not bothered by the beads of sweat gathered on the nape of his neck.

"Too good..." he agrees, not missing the shiver that's shaking your own frame when he picks up his speed. "You have no idea what I would do t-to fucking feel you with n-no barriers between us," his movements become frantic as his hips slap against yours, his jaw clenched as he keeps talking, "to s-stuff you full of my c-cum over and over again until it won't stop d-dripping."

Jungkook's voice against your ear has you trembling and your orgasm nearing closer, your nails scratching down his back as his thrusts overpower your form. "Would you like that?" he asks with his voice strangled.

"Y-yes. Anything y-you want."

"You'd take all of my cum like a good cum-slut?"

You hate the fact that that's what makes you come undone. The twisting and knotting in the pit of your stomach finally snapping until you're holding on to him like you never want to let him go and he's following soon after.

Because if Guk, Gukkie, Jengukkie was not only able to make you come in less than a few minutes with his fingers or his tongue, but he was also able to make you cum instantly just by calling you a good cum-slut, that means you're fucked. Like, really, really fucked.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

There's a knot in Jungkook's stomach and a suffocating grip around his vocal chords as he caresses your skin. The sun is rising in the distance with the first rays of light entering his room through the window. Your shamphoo is intoxicating him, numbing him and enticing him to bury his nose in the tangled curls pressing against his chest. Your arm is thrown across his stomach, your breathing leavig goosebumps all over his body.

"It's too early. Go back to sleep." you mumble against his heart. He wonders if you can feel it dangerously speeding up.

"I can't." he says, voice struggling to stay balanced. "I have to tell you something."

You hum in response, sleep still interwined with your body, your arm tightening around him. You sigh in content, expecting him to elaborate.

He wets his suddenly dry lips. "I don't want this to end. In fact, ____.... I want more. Need more."

"Jungkook..." your whole body goes rigid right away, untanglling your bodies from each other and sitting up on the mattress.

"No, listen to me." he mimicks your movements, rapidly grabbing your hands to make you look at him. His eyes are expressive, a mixture of fear and hope swirling in his dark irises. "I wake up everyday, and you're the first thing I think of. I go on about my day, and I keep thinking about you, wondering what you're doing and counting down the hours until I get to see you again. I spend every night dreaming about you, and when we'e together, the only thing I can think about is how I wish I could stop time so I don't have to say bye to you the next morning. ____, I-"

"Jungkook, stop please." you shake your head, pushing away from him and in desperate need of air. You press a hand against your chest, beating back the throb of pain while the other curls in a tight fist, the feeling of your fingernails digging into your palm less painful than the ache inside your heart. "This... This wasn't supossed to happen, Jungkook." you start pacing around the room, as if trying to find an exit while avoiding his gaze. "This was just a summer fling. That's all it was, I'm supposed to come back to the city in two weeks and-"

"A summer fling?" a sardonic sneer comes out of him. "Oh my God, I can't believe this is happening again..." he mumbles to himself before rising from the bed. You stop immediately, a shiver quaking through you as his impressive frame intimidates His eyebrows are drawn together and his dark eyes are void of any prior emotion. "You're going back to the city in two weeks? And you didn't care to tell me until now, after I just spilled my guts to you?"

You eyes fill up with uncomfortable tears, reaching one arm towards him. "Jung-"

He flinches, taking one step back. "A summer fling is all I mean to you?"

"Ju- "

"Look me in the eyes, right now, and tell me that's all I mean to you. A summer fling." panic crawls up your throat. There's the need within you to confirm, to stare into his beautiful and stern eyes and tell him that, yes, that's all he is to you. But you've never been a good liar. So nothing comes out. You opt for wrapping your ams around yourself wishing they were his and lowering your eyes to the ground. "I think... I think you should leave."

Those are the last words he says to you, and the last thing you see when you turn around one more time after gathering your clothes, is his back as he looks out the window.

You allow yourself to cry the exact moment you step into Chaelin's apartment. Your friend is sitting on the couch, bowl of cereal in hand and a fresh cup of coffee sitting on the livingroom's table.

"Hey, you're early tod- Baby, what's wrong?"

"Please, don't laugh."

That morning, you lay down for hours on the couch with your head on Chaelin's lap while she softly brushes your hair as you cry, hiccup, fight through the pain in your heart and relate to her as best as you can the latest events.

She doesn't laugh at all.

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"She'll come back." Mijoo's slurred words do nothing to put Jungkook's state at ease that night. He simply shrugs, fingers clenching at his sides, frowing into his drink before gulping down the bitter taste of vodka in one shot. "Seriously, I think she's just afraid. My ex was the same."

"Comparing her to your ex is not the analogy you think it is."

"Ugh, shut up. Things didn't work with my ex because she was a bitch." Jungkook gives Mijoo a pointed look which she responds to by rolling her eyes and sipping on her rum coke. "Your girl is not a bitch. She used to be a bitch. What she did this morning was bitchy, but, like I said, she's just being a pussy. If she only wanted sex with you, she wouldn't have been doing couple stuff with you the entire summer."

"Whatever. I don't care." he lies and Mijoo knows he's lying but decides to drop the subject fo now.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

"We can't keep spending our days smoking weed." Chaelin speaks over Blanche's voice on the TV.

"I know. I'm just sad."

"You have to come back and tell him how you feel."

"I know."

There's a beat of silence before your friend kicks your thigh with her feet.

"I know and I will." you mumble through red eyes and smoke clouds.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

It's September first and it doesn't feel like Jungkook's birthday at all. He's been trying to focus on his work, alternating between isolating in full hermit mode and hanging out with friends to drink away his sorrow. The days have gone by and before he could realize it, he woke up today with over twenty text messages wishing him a happy day and a throbbing hangover.

He dresses up on autopilot. First a cotton shirt, then a pair of jeans and lastly, his Nike's. He doesn't bother tying his sneakers just like he doesn't bother taking a shower. He smokes a cigarette for breakfast, the death stick making him feel nauseaus on an empty stomach. And then he goes to work.

He's been repeating the same routing for the past weeks and he's not thinking of changing it, not even on his bithday.

He spends hours drawing, tattooing and drawing some more between yawns. He ignores texts an phone calls and simply waits until the day is over to go home, go to bed and forget about the fact that you're probably on your way to the city and that he hasn't crossed your mind not even once.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

Inkphoria.

You've been standing outside the shop re-reading the word for fifteen minutes, although it definitely feels like it has been longer. You're gripping cup of ice cream as it melts down your fingers the more you wait. The shop is already empty and it's starting to darken out side, and still you're so hot. Your shorts are heavy and your tank top is sticking to your skin. You didn't even bother to put on any make, although your eyebags definitely needed some concieling and your lashes some dimension to hide the fact that you'd been crying for the last few days.

'You're crazy about him.'

Chaelin's voice echoes inside your head.

You've lost count of how many times your best friend has given your advice, or simply encouraged you to do something you've been too scared to try.

'And he's cazy about you too.'

Chaelin might be wrong about marmite and the movie Cats, but she's definitely now wrong about anything regarding your and Jungkook.

That's it. You briefly close your eyes, inhale a deep breath then release it slowly. You start walking. It doesn't take longer than three strides and you're pushing the door open.

The tattoed blonde looks up from the counter the second you come into view. She smiles at the distance between you two. "You can come closer. I won't bite."

You clear your throat, stalking closer to her. "Is he-"

"He's in the back." she replies before you can finish you question. You close your mouth, clear your throat and nod your head.

"Thanks, Mijoo." she gives you a small wink, her smile easing your nerves like she had three months ago.

She watches you disappear. She shakes he head, her smile meeting her eyes. "I told him so."

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Jungkook ignores the knock on his door at first. It's almost ten and the parlor is about to close. He just has to finish this last fucking sketch so he can grab his shit and go the fuck ho-

Knock knock.

He growls, exhasperation cursing through him. He runs a hand through his messy pile of hair, his rings tangling between the strands, making him wince in pain. "Come in." he grunts under his breath. The door opens. "Mijoo, I really have to finish-"

He stops dead in his tracks as soon as he sees you.

"Hey." you say after a moment of hesitation.

"Hey." he replies and although there's something inside, deep in his chest, shouting at him to stand up, run up to you and kiss your face while he tells you how beautiful you look right now and how happy he is to see that you're still here, he decides against it. "Listen, ____, I'm pretty busy-"

"No, you listen to me." you cut him off abruptly. He looks taken aback and is already opening his mouth to say something, but you're not having it. "Please, just... Let me talk."

Silence looms between the two of you for a while, a staring contest defying each other to back down. When you take one step inside and close the door behind you, he sighs and leans back against his chair.

You move towards him slowly, your lip caught between your lip going through your mind for the speech you'd been preparing the last few days. Your hands are sticky due to the the sugary treat liquifying in your hand. "I know there's no reason you should give me another chance after rejecting you in high school, and there's definitely no reason why you should forgive me for the way I shut you out a few weeks ago. You've been confessing your feelings to me since we were teenagers, and now it's my turn to tell you exactly how I feel about you."

"Jungkook, the truth is... I like you so much. I like you more than I've ever liked anyone. Ever. I said this was just a summer fling, and I was lying. I was lying because there's no way a simple summer fling could make me feel the way you do. There's no way a simple summer fling could make me want not just summer with you, but also fall and winter, and spring and every summer that comes next."

You hadn't realize when your eyes filling up with tears until the sight of him starts blurrying in front of you. His fingers reach yours, his thumb comforting on your skin. "____, it's okay-"

"I'm not done yet." you sniffle, gathering enough courage to continue. "I brought you a lemon sherbet because you said it was your favourite. But you also implied I was your favourite, and I want to keep being you favourite, but now it's already melted and-"

The corners of Jungkook's lips start pulling upward as he tugs you towards him, his heart loudly jumping inside his chest. "Shhh, come here."

He takes the ice cream from your hand and places it on his desk. Then he's helping you onto his lap, your head tucked under his chin and your arms wapping on their own around his neck.

He doesn't care about your sticky fingers or the wet stains of your tears in his shirt. The only thing he cares about is the fact that you're right there, letting him engulf your frame and drown in the scent and warmth he'd misses so much.

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The first day of June has Jungkook sweating and wishing for a haircut. Jungkook usually hates summer. He hates the fact that he has to shower at least twice a day, and the fact that the heat is almost unbearable to sleep in and also the fact that he's easily sunburnt.

This year, however, Jungkook likes summer a little bit more.

"Excuse me, miss. Do you have an appointment?" it's the fact that you're starting to wear those summer dresses he loves so much, and the fact that your skin glows under the sun like glitter, and also the fact that he can lick ice cream off of it whenever he desires.

"I am the appointment." your giggle is almost childlike, playing with Jungkook's heart strings. You shut the door behind you, nearing him. You also seem to always have that flush on your cheeks. Although he likes to think part of it is due to him. He doesn't say anything else as he puts his pencil down and instead turns around in the chair to have you immediately on top of his thighs.

Yeah, he also likes the path your lips trace from his cheek, to his jaw, ending at the juncture between his neck and his shoulder. It still makes his body quaver to this day.

"Let me see." he murmurs against you forhear, his hand already working on unbottoning the front of your dress.

"Mijoo hasn't left yet." you whisper back, your smile impossible to supress and the faint whimper impossible to hide when his fingers expose your breast and tug at the titanium barbell adorning the already hardened nub.

Jungkook loves knowing he was the one to do that, and also the only one to play with it. He doesn't hesitate when he dips his head. "As if we'd ever cared about that." he adds, wrapping your sole point in his mouth.

He fucks you on his studio table with your legs around his waist and his tongue playing with both your breasts, the tattoo sketches long forgotten, scattered on the floor as he whispers against your flesh something that sounds a lot like 'I love you'.

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #bts fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #bts #bts fic #bts smut #jungkook fic

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 3 years

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Kickstart My Heart Pt.1 (Racer! Yeosang)

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Pairing: Racer! Kang Yeosang × Waitress/Fuckgirl! Reader (Female)

Genre: Fluff, Angst, 80s AU.

Summary: During an era known for its vibrant colors, eccentric fashion styles and rise of new yet unconventional genres of music, the young generation of that time was infamously known for their need to rebel and live their lives rather scandalously and Y/N is no exception. So when a new and attractive man moves into her town, she has her eyes set on making him her next boy toy.

Word Count: 4K+

Warnings: Dumb attempts at crackhead humor, reader is a cold hearted bitch, guy gets dumped in public, reader's friend is lowkey creepy.

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Throwing on the last article of clothing that had been discarded the night before, the young woman shook out her hair, still damp from the quick shower she just took. Picking up her bag, she looked over at the figure still sleeping soundly, the subtle hint of a smile on his face. With a pitied pout on her lips, she walked over to the edge where his face was. Taking out the lipstick tube from her bag, she applied it all over her lips, painting them in the dark burgundy color that she fancied so much and had practically become her signature hue. Bending over, she pressed her lips against the corners of his mouth, giving him the faintest whisper of a kiss before pulling away. A satisfied smirk was plastered on her pretty features as she stared at the lipstick mark on his face, the only memoir she'd leave him with as she had done with countless others.

Closing the front door behind her, she pulled her denim jacket tighter on her body, shivering slightly from the early dawn's breeze that blew across. It was always like that even though summer had just begun, the early morning hours still feeling obnoxiously cool and then transpiring into slightly uncomfortably warm afternoons that had more than one soul in that quaint town grumbling and fussing about the weather. But oh did the evenings feel absolutely refreshing, and that's when everything would start bustling to life.

Having finally made it out of that small residential area and finding one of the main roads that helped her locate where to go, she started heading south towards the all too familiar diner where she had been working in ever since her school days, first starting part time and eventually transpiring to full time when it came time for her to spread her wings and fly out on her own, a feat she had been most anxious to do to get away from the overly controlling nature of her parents. She knew they cared about her, but she herself cared very little about the morals and principles they had raised her with, a common trait all the young people in that town shared: their rebellious and headstrong nature to not conform and go against everything they had been taught thus far. Live their own lives as freely as they chose to do.

And she definitely lived as she wanted to, even if it ended up with a rather bad reputation and ugly labels that rather than infuriate her, she openly embraced, as others had come to as well.

The light twinkle of the bells above the glass door let the person at the register know someone came in and they immediately plastered on their business smile, which quickly faded when they saw who it was.

"You're late Y/N." The minuscule raven haired waitress informed her, eyes never leaving her coworker's figure that came behind the counter and started punching in her number.

"Only by like 7 minutes." She waved her slip at the nonchalant looking girl before placing it back in its respective slot.

"One day it wouldn't surprise me if you just didn't show up because you got too caught up in.... something else."

Chuckling softly, Y/N walked up behind her coworker, hands coming up to ruffle the cheekbone level bob cut hair framing her unusually small face.

"Awww come on Lynn, you know I'd never leave you hanging here to attend customers by yourself. You're my bestie." Y/N assured her, playfully poking her lips out as she tried to place a kiss on her friend, the poor girl craning her neck away as she tended to dislike physical affection.

"I will squirt ketchup on you." Lynn threatened as she picked up the cherry red bottle as a last resort to get her attacker to back away. A rather noisy struggle ensued between both girls, catching the attention of the owner and cook behind the two doors, prompting her to come out and see what was the cause of such ruckus.

"Well I'll be darned. I don't remember paying you youngsters to simply slack off and behave like the hooligans you are." The middle aged woman spoke up, her thick accent becoming more prominent. Although she had a stern look and hands placed at her hips, the girls knew she was not in reality angry at them.

Looking over at the recently arrived girl, the owner closed her eyes and sighed deeply when she took in the attire she was wearing: low cut white tank, ripped denim shorts that left little to the imagination if she bent down, fishnet tights with a few holes in them, and her beloved denim jacket that was almost always on Y/N's body.

"I swear to god, Y/N , everytime I see you wear them rags you call clothes, I feel like my body is about to collapse. Why must you insist on dressing like a common street worker?"

Y/N wasn't at all offended by her words, having grown used to and becoming fond of her boss's abrupt, direct and honest manner of speaking.

"Gotta start looking the part if I'm going to dedicate my life to the occupation." She giggled at her own joke, resulting in the older woman taking the rag off her apron and smacking her with it.

"This little runt, talking nonsense like that- get your ass back in there and change into your uniform. Can't have you prancing around here in those skimpy clothes and have all these men that come here say disrespectful things about you. Nuh uh, not to my girls." She shook her head.

"Yes Miss Audrey." Complying with the woman's wishes, she pushed open the swing doors leading to the back and quickly made her way to the corner where all the employee's cubicles were located. Grabbing the necessary items, she turned and went inside the bathroom to change into her uniform, consisting of a knee length crimson red dress, which she had actually altered so it would be shorter and display her thighs more, the cap sleeves slightly puffed up and the torso part had a trail of white buttons going all the way up to the modest v-neckline, usually most buttons were left undone so her cleavage would shamelessly peak out. Exchanging her black Doc Martens in favor of her white Nike sneakers, Y/N tied her apron around her waist, making sure it was as tight as possible so it would accentuate her curves and give her body a more flattering appearance. As she made her way out, she quickly piled her hair up before securing it with one of the many elastics she kept around her wrists, leaving out a few tendrils to fall on her temples.

Coming back out to start her daily work, she stood in front of Lynn, who merely spared her an unamused glance.

"How do I look?" Y/N asked.

"Like a total slut." Her friend answered in her usually rude way.

Rolling her eyes, Y/N grabbed a spray bottle and a rag. Making her way over to the table that had just finished being used, she quickly picked up the plates and glass, bringing them back over to where Lynn was, who took them so she could wash them in the sink. Spraying the top of the marble piece, she had began her task of wiping down the table when the ringing of the bell signaled new customers had arrived, and rowdy ones at that too.

"Damn! Is today's special fluffy sponge cake? Cause I would sure love a piece of that ass."

Y/N recognized that annoying voice even from miles away, belonging to none other than one of her old classmates, Jung Wooyoung, whom she considered a friend, if he didn't manage to irk her too much. Turning around, she of course wasn't surprised to see him surrounded by his crew of equally idiotic and adrenaline junkie friends, whom she had to admit were pleasant and fun to hang out with.

"Sit your asses down already, I'll be over in a minute to take your order." She told them before resuming her previous task, earning a scoff from the most dramatic of the group.

"Fine customer service! Don't think you'll be getting a tip from me." His words made her nearly burst into a fit of giggles.

"Wooyoung please, you never ever tip whenever you come. None of you, except Yunho." It kinda saddened her that said male unfortunately wasn't there with them at the moment.

"He doesn't tip you, he tips short stack over there." His friend with cat like eyes pointed towards Lynn, who upon overhearing him held up a rather explicit finger in his direction.

"I'll poison your food San." She threatened with a sing song tone.

"Like I wouldn't know that you already spit on it." San spat back, sticking his tongue out in his immature and infantile fashion.

"Can you guys hurry up and order already? I'm starving and we gotta head to the tracks as early as possible." The fiery red haired male known as Song Mingi blurted out, fingers tapping impatiently against the top of the table.

"If little miss g-string would care to hop her luscious ass over here, maybe we could."

Strutting over to where they sat, Y/N harshly threw the dirty rag on Wooyoung's face, causing a faint grunt to come out of his mouth.

"No matter how many times you mention my ass, I'm still not letting you tap it." She firmly stated, making Wooyoung slightly purse his lips outwards in a disappointed grimace.

"So anygays-" Mingi began.

"Umm I think you mean anyways." San corrected him.

Leaning in towards him, Mingi locked eyes on the shorter male and stared him down with an intimidating glare.

"Did I stutter Choi?"

San immediately shook his head rapidly. With a victory smile, Mingi reclined back in his seat.

"I'm just going to get the breakfast platter with some orange juice."

Y/N couldn't stifle her snort when he said his choice of drink, the other two men looking away in embarrassment.

"You've been drinking orange juice since you were in grade school Mingles, don't you think you outta start taking something more grown up? Like coffee?" San suggested and Mingi did not appreciate it.

"Coming from the one who still brings a plushie to sleep with him, your suggestion holds no value or power." He retorted.

"OK SHIBER IS NOT A PLUSHIE, HE'S FAMILY YOU JACKASS!" San sprinted up from his seat, nearly leaning across to grab Mingi by the color, but he was held back by Wooyoung.

Lynn, who had thus far stayed quiet, promptly came up with a spray bottle and consequently doused the untamed boy on his face.

"Bad kitty, bad kitty." She reprimanded him, unable to resist the opportunity to attack her long time frenemy.

"Lynn!" Y/N looked at her with surprise.

"You're welcome." Lynn replied rather monotone before going back to her place behind the counter like she didn't just spray San with disinfecting water.

"There's too many germs going around anyways..." She muttered under her breath.

Without any further interruptions, aside from the rumbling coming out of the boys' stomachs, they finished ordering what they wanted and Y/N sent it over so they could be prepared. Not wanting to be near their loud asses, Y/N went back over to where Lynn was, peeking over to see what she was currently reading in the magazine she held.

"What you reading?" She casually inquired.

"Horoscope section." Y/N wasn't surprised, her friend tended to be into more mystical, eccentric and rather.....extreme with her taste in fashion and music. If Y/N was the one who turned heads for her scandalous attire, Lynn was the one people turned away from in fear when they saw how she dressed. It was a sight that truly made both of them laugh at people's foolishness, well at least made Y/N laugh. Her friend rarely had any other expression plastered on that wasn't utter disdain for society and life.

Unexpectedly, another customer came in. Both girls looked at each other in confusion when neither of them recognized him. Their town was rather small with few people living there, so they deduced that he must be a traveler who probably got lost on his route. He himself looked around nervously, eyes barely lifting up. Y/N couldn't help herself as she took in his perfect face. Big, round eyes with crystal clear orbs, small face with a V-line jaw, perfectly sculpted nose with no sign of defects, skin smooth and blemish free, he looked like a prince out of a fairytale. He was incredibly pretty, yet stood there so awkwardly that it was almost comical.

"Hey Yeosang! You made it! Sit down! I ordered for you in advanced!" Wooyoung surprised both girls when it seemed he knew the stranger and even waved him over to where they sat. The other two boys also seem familiarized with him and welcomed him to sit with them, chatting up a storm already with him.

"Who's that?" Lynn was the one to finally ask out loud.

"Beats me.....but he sure is adorable."

Noticing the way her lips curled upwards, Lynn could already see the wheels inside Y/N's head turning.

"And I bet you're going to go over there and find out- aaand there you go." She ended up answering her own deduction as she watched Y/N happily walked over with a more bright expression on her face, that soon soured when her boss came out of the kitchen and beat her over to the table, laying down several plates of food.

"I knew as soon as I saw the orders that it had to be the lot of you." She scoffed softly as she looked at the boys' grinning faces.

"You know us Miss Audrey, we wouldn't ever think of eating anywhere else but here. You're the best cook in all of town." Wooyoung praised her with a sparkling charm that could have fooled anyone else but not the robust woman in front of him.

"Boy stop trying to tickle my ears, I've known you since you were in your soiled diapers being carried around by your mama, running around and creating chaos anywhere you went. Flattery may work on them poor girls you play with but me? I can see right through ruffians like you."

Turning her head to finally notice the new addition to the group, she looked him up and down.

"Boy who might you be?" She questioned him, earning the ears of the girls nearby to listen in for any valuable information.

"I'm..... Yeosang Kang, nice to meet you." He introduced himself, tilting his head slightly down when he said that.

"He just moved into town this week! He's the new guy who is going to work with us down at the car shop and help on the race track!" San enthusiastically shouted, making the older woman cringe.

"I may be old, but I still haven't gone deaf for you to yell in such a way boy. So...." She crossed her arms and looked at Yeosang again.

"You a racer too?"

Now the girls, particularly Y/N, were more interested in what his response would be.

"I- yes. So it seems." The poor boy looked so flustered, obviously being more of a soft spoken individual, contrasting starkly to the other 3 boys.

Miss Audrey let out a seemingly displeased hum at his answer.

"As if we needed anymore hooligans running wild. We already got enough with the 3 Stooges over here."

The girls couldn't help but snicker at their boss's words, always having a blast whenever she put the boys back in their place. They however looked displeased, glaring at them intensely.

"Shouldn't you both be off somewhere cleaning dishes or making sandwiches?"

Snatching one of the knifes, Lynn held it up and was about to jump over, but Y/N came up in front of her.

"Lynn, no. Just calm down ok? You know they're just being idiots." Y/N reminded her.

Grumbling something in a foreign language no one knew for sure if it was real or not, Lynn put the knife back, squinting her eyes at them before turning around to not look at them again. Y/N giggled softly, finding it absolutely cute whenever her friend lost her cool and collected form cause it reminded her of a chihuahua, barking and yelping at anything larger than itself trying to establish dominance.

Noticing that in her display of aggression, Lynn had inadvertently knocked over a few of the brochures that were on display for people to take, Y/N stooped down and proceeded to pick them up in a casual manner. Standing up, she neatly arranged them properly, making sure they all faced the same direction and the sides weren't poking out anywhere. Feeling as though someone had been watching her all along, she looked at the table of boys, half expecting Wooyoung's smug grin to greet her, but she was completely wrong as it was none other than the new guy who seemed unable to keep his eyes off her figure, staring intently at the length of her skirt. When he realized she noticed, his eyes went wide, cheeks burning up with utter embarrassment. Y/N however seemed unbothered by this. Wanting to test something, she pretended to accidentally drop one of the pamphlets. Bending over, she made sure he could get a perfect glimpse of her cleavage, if he payed enough attention, he'd be able to see that she was in fact, not wearing any bra. Coming back up, Y/N looked over to see the results, smirking when the agape mouth of Yeosang confirmed to her that he had indeed noticed everything.

"Oh sweetheart, you're gonna be too easy..." She had already made up in her mind that Yeosang would be her next target, and she had to put her plan in action. Placing the brochures down, she was about to go over and start flirting with him, until a familiar voice called for her.

"Y/N! There you are!"

She internally groaned when she heard him, wondering why on earth did he not get the hint of ditching him like that, especially when he very well knew about the reputation she had. She tried ignoring him, but of course, he had had to be the persistent type, no doubt thinking he was going to have a different ending than the rest before him.

"I thought you'd be here. You could have told me you were going to be gone early. I would have made you breakfast."

Knowing she had to say something, Y/N grabbed her pad and gave him the fakest smile she was capable of donning.

"Hi, what can we get started for you today? Waffles? Eggs and bacon? Coffee to start off with?"

The trio of friends, having no choice but to witness the interaction due to it happening right in front of them, snickered amongst themselves.

"Oh shit. He's in for it." San whispered lowly.

The boy obviously looked extremely confused, his smile lightly falling off, but then returning to its hopeful state.

"Why are you acting like this candy bear? Pretending like you don't know me?" When he tried to reach a hand to pull her close, the girl simply pushed him away with one of her fingers.

"Look, clearly you're too stupid to understand so let me spell it out in a language you can understand." Letting out a tired sigh, she crossed her arms in front of her chest, a sour look displaying on her pretty face.

"We had a nice time together, and last night was... average to put it nicely."

"Oh man. That was a total burn." Mingi couldn't help but snort, some of the orange juice being spit back into his glass.

"But that was all it was and all it's ever going to be. So why don't you do yourself a favor and just go back home to your Star Trek figurines and watch the latest episode of Thunder Cats?"

The not so discreet snickering coming from the table behind them only made the humiliation for the man multiply significantly. Turning red with utter despair and rage, he quickly brushed past Y/N rather brusquely.

"Fucking bitch." She heard him mutter under his breath, a phrase she had grown accustomed to hearing among many others.

"Oh god. Homegirl struck again." Wooyoung laughed, swirling his milkshake in his hand.

"Ayo why you gotta do Thunder Cats like that? It's actually pretty entertaining." San commented.

Looking over at the time, the guys quickly stood up, dropping their share of bills onto the table.

"You guys get paid today too right? Come meet up with us at the track." Wooyoung suggested.

"Why on earth would we want to go see your greasy, oil smelling ass after dealing for nearly an hour with you already?" Lynn questioned him, eyes never peering up from her magazine.

"Because Yunho would be there?"

Still she didn't respond, the only movement made was her finger turning the page.

"Bro we been knew she don't give two shits about him." Mingi reminded them.

"Because we're going to the drive in theater after work, they're playing a horror movie."

Lifting her gaze, Lynn closed the magazine, although still stone faced, her eyes seemed to brighten up.

"My interest has been greatly piqued." Her lips showed the faintest whisper of a smile that gave a rather eerie and chilling feel down the people's spines.

"Maybe we should rethink inviting Satan's offspring." San leaned in towards Mingi, shivering significantly.

"Great! So we'll catch you gals later."

The boys quickly dispersed themselves, save Yeosang who still sat quietly, keeping mostly to himself. His fingers fidgeted with the half drunk cup he was holding, gaze fixed on the table in front of him. Looking up, he was attempting to work up the courage to talk to Y/N, but before he could even get the chance to gather strength, the owner came out from the back, whispering a few orders to her and gesturing for her to go tend to a situation in the kitchen. With a defeated sigh, he got up to go join the rest of the gang outside who were waiting for him. Slumping his hands in the pockets of his pants, he moved out of the booth with a solemn gaze.

"Hey."

His steps came to a screeching halt when he heard Y/N call out to him. Looking over, she smiled sweetly in his direction.

"Hope I see you later." With a flirtatious wink, she bid him goodbye as she disappeared into the back.

Yeosang stood there stunned momentarily, replaying her words over and over again in his mind, pondering endlessly at their meaning.

"Little pussy cat sure got you brain dead, didn't she?"

Startled by the unexpected voice next to him, he jumped when the face of the kind yet stern old lady studied him carefully. With a disapproving shake of her head, she decided it'd be best to warn him before he started getting ideas in his head.

"Listen, you seem like a sweet and sensible young man, so it's best for you to listen to me and stay away from that darn girl. Don't let them sugar coated lips of hers sweet talk themselves into your heart. You'll just end up heart broken like all the lovers she's had."

Picking up some of the plates, she gave him one last look, pointing an accusatory finger at him to get her point across.

"She's dangerous." Finally saying what she needed to say, Miss Audrey headed back with plates in her arms, slapping away Lynn's hands when they attempted to pry them off her, barking instructions at her to watch the counter and leave her be.

"Dangerous....." Yeosang thought to himself, the warning the good intended woman gave him sinking deep in his mind. Although he took her words to heart, something about the way she glanced at him pulled at the strings in his chest, taking his breath away when he remembered the risque position she was in that purposely allowed him to view more than he should have. That memory tinted his cheeks pink, lips unable to suppress a small smile. He knew that he should heed the old woman's advice.

But he had to admit that he loved danger and the thrill it came with.........

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Taglist: @little-precious-baby @yunhofingers @brie02 @galaxteez @multidreams-and-desires @deja-vux @hanatiny @couchpotatoaniki @daniblogs164 @a-soft-hornytiny @yunsangoveryonder @minhyukmyluv @nanamarkie @ateezbabysitters @mingismoon @rainteez02

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igotathingforvampires · 3 years

Text

Aro Volturi N.S.F.W Alphabet

CANON DIVERGENT.

Info on Reader: Reader is an Elemental Gift user like Benjamin

CW/TW: a SLIGHT MENTION of assault but NO DETAIL AT ALL (as a SA survivor I do not use this lightly but I do like representation and not having the survivor be that cliche broken doll we end abusers here thank you)

How you two met:

You…..oh you. You’re standing with the Cullens wondering how the FUCK you got here.

Why am I here? What’s with this tiny little kid who can touch me and tell me things. Awe but she’s cute.

You’re just a bored Vampire who knows Carlisle and is Esme’s BFF.

You’re a nomad, and a badass one, see your gift is the Elements like Benjamin, it’s why Amun has his eye on you and is freaked out.

You and Benji are buddies now. Benjamin specializes in Earth and Water. You specialize in Fire and Air.

So now, here you are watching a bunch of cloaked baddies stomping towards you. But Carlisle and you have spoken frequently, the Volturi aren’t bad.

However, they are cautious.

And caution bred by fear is something you know to be wary of.

So you keep yourself a bit behind Carly. Waiting and watching.

The leader— that must be Aro you think, flings his hood back and suddenly you feel your entire chest clench up and a yank within yourself towards him. “Oh what the fuck.” You growl. Glancing UP at the Old Gods you couldn’t help but snap at them “ARE YOU ALL KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW?! HIM?!”

The platinum haired man barked angrily, “who dares?!”

Aro is too busy glancing at his brother Marcus who’s smiling. He nods at Aro and huffs a bit of a sigh.

The raven haired man turns ever so slowly, casting his red gaze over the crowd and it falls to Carlisle. “Carly.”

“Aro?”

“Who is that behind you.” Aro can feel his chest hurt like a chain is being pulled.

Carlisle looks confused and glances behind him where you are shaking your head face palming—looking embarrassed.

Edward and Bella are utterly confused, before Edward listens to Aro’s and your thoughts and gets a look of disgust, “REALLY.” He barks.

You feel the rage of a thousand suns consume you. “I CAN’T PICK IT YA KNOW AND HEY WHADDAYA MEAN REALLY —ASSHOLE DON’T TALK ABOUT MY MATE LIKE THAT!”

The entire field is utterly still as you’re heaving, standing on your tip toes in front of the bronze haired vampire pointing at Edwards cringing face, “but it’s—“ he starts, you let out a growl and sparks fly off you.

Edward shuts up.

“I will light your ass on fire.” You whisper hiss.

The Volturi are just tilting their heads like WTF.

Marcus is trying not to laugh, Caius has just become stunned glancing between his brother and the woman across the battlefield.

Aro is getting GIDDY.

“And who is the girl.” He asks.

You turn, your hips swinging with attitude and your arms crossing as you scoff. “Psh, get a load of this Mother fucker,” you whisper to yourself glaring across the expanse of space. “HEY. I have a name.”

------

-----

His First Impression:

Of course my mate swears like a sailor.

Is Aro’s first thought.

His next thought is that you’re awful adorable. Awe so lithe and cute and— Much too … hm, much too adorable to be mine I would think how In the —a violent wind kicks up and flames burst out from your body enveloping your form as you take a few steps forward.

Ah there it is.

“You wanna ask me my name— darling.” You smile wide at him.

“Of course,” his purr is laced with annoyance, but he’s far too intrigued. “Who might you be?”

“I’m y/n. No last name, my parents were assholes.” You shrug. “So, we doing this trial or we figuring the whole—“ you wave your hand between the gaping maw of land between you two, “bond thing.”

Aro pauses, a twitch on his lips, “after the proceedings cara mia.”

“Ooo… love me a man that speaks Italian—” You smirk, raising a brow and cock your head to the side.

Aro makes a stifled choked off growl as his eyes go black— thank God he lost the ability to blush as arousal slammed into him like a freight train.

You’re obviously annoyed, and have as Caius mutters ‘more balls than a Christmas tree’ and you are ready for this trial to be over.

Frankly so is Aro he wants to drag you back to Volterra and bring you to heel.

Not that he thinks that’s going to happen.

But he loves playing with fire. And you’re full of it.

He watches you glance at the Cullens and the half-breed. “Alright Nessie come on let’s show him what you can do kiddo.” You scoop the girl up and you and the Cullens walk over with Jake behind you.

-----

When does he know of his feelings?

When within reaching distance you set Renessme down and pat her head, “okay tiny Loch Ness, say hello.”

Bella is panicking, but she trusts you it seems, she better, you have no qualms frying— sans mate— every vampire here. They do their little song and dance. Aro tries to talk about the danger and you feel your temper boil over.

“Darling.” You croon taking a step forward with a sharp but soft smile.

You remind him of a lioness, purring softly but ready to tear into him with one movement.

He raises a brow; you are in 6 inch heels putting you nose to nose with him. “Yes carissima?” He breathes deep and nearly groans out loud, you smell so good, like spring and a heady feminine scent like perfume edged in lilacs and lavender.

“Could you pretty pretty pretty please just keep an eye on little Nessie— I hate to tell you but she’s quite important to me and I can assure you she fits in with humans better than the Cullens do.”

“And if I don’t.”

You let flames dance in your gaze. “I’ll roast everyone here except your brothers and their mates and make you start the fuck over without me.”

Aro’s done.

Cupid has struck him in his dead heart.

He’s never been more terrified or aroused or enraged at once at your dulcet threat purred from such sweet lips.

He wants to grip you by your hair to him, pick you up and haul you to somewhere private and teach you a lesson.

He wants to fight you. And it’s quite clear you’re ready to rumble, though he’s not sure you’d let him win. Or that it wouldn’t end up tangling in a bed somewhere on fire. That’s fine too.

A manic grin spreads across his face, eyes going pitch black as he snatches you up by the waist and hauls you closer loving the startled look in your eyes settling into something dark and wanting. “And if I agree?”

The brothers roll their eyes.

Go figure you’d be as bat shit as he is.

“I’ll leave with you right now.” You give him THAT look matching his almost mad grin.

A low purr echos from him making Bella clap her hands over Nessie’s ears. “Una ragazza così meravigliosa, credo che mi piaccia come funziona la tua mente.” Such a wonderful girl, I think I like how your mind works.

But your plans to drag your mate off end as Alice shows up with her witness right when he’s about to whisk you off for some obvious adult time.

Both of you sigh put out and exasperated.

Yes you just about ended an entire potential threat with batting pretty eyes and coaxing the leader of the Volturi into some fun.

But now that’s ruined because of the psychic. Alice is looking rather embarrassed as the proceedings go. Given that she probably saw how everything was about to go down.

Aro can sense you’re as annoyed as he is, that and you’re not leaving his side. And you don’t mind touching him but you’re not because oh yeah he needs to focus. But oh he can see your hand twitching towards his own.

He can easily turn his gift off and so he does and grips your hand, quickly jerking you to his side.

Electricity lights along your skin at the contact and both of you jolt a moment and glance sideways looking amused.

This was going to be fun.

——

How’d you end up with the Volturi?

Alice and her witnesses ease their concerns about Nessie. Aro placates the Volturi as you linger back behind him a bit. Everyone just poof! Vanishes.

“So ah, can we get my stuff first before you whisk me off around the world?” You ask sweetly.

Aro’s a bit startled, “you wish to leave already?”

You realize he would be willing to stay for a bit and let you acclimate.

“Nah where you go I fucking go, come on baby. Let’s get the fuck outta dodge.” You give him a teasing shove as you walk by making Carlisle’s coven silently shake in mirth at his surprised expression.

Carlisle murmurs, “Good luck Aro.”

“Fuck off Carly.” The King growls back before following you.

That’s all they wrote.

You were in. And you made yourself at home quite easily.

Jane and Alec adore you— you saw them and just SQUEEd. “OMG they’re so DEADLY but so CUTE!”

Jane wasn’t quite sure what to do with you picking her UP and hugging her nuzzling your nose to her cheek, “she’s just a tiny tot of doom I adore it! We’re going to burn the SHIT outta people.”

Alec just sat starry eyed as you ruffled his hair, “I know boys don’t like being picked up.”

Jane had become a koala on you. And you didn’t mind.

Well. You’re Mama now. Aro couldn’t be more pleased as you continue to help develop their skills trying things outside of the box.

See, that’s also a sort of talent you have— you can help people learn how to use their gifts because of how you think. Not a gift per say, but certainly useful.

Jane it turns out can utilize the fire element.

Alec can utilize air.

With you knowing both you’re easily able to teach Alec how to hone his targets and even allow his gift to POP UP near someone rather than from his hands.

Jane is capable of setting shit on fire now.

Aro isn’t sure if he’s proud or worried.

Bit of both. But you are STERN with their use of powers. And when Jane set Felix’s foot on fire she was forced to shine everyone’s shoes in the Volturi in the afternoon and write 200,000 times at HUMAN PACE. “We do not light family on fire.”

She never did it again.

The inner coven loves you. Caius and you are besties Marcus is like a big brother always doting on you. Athenadora and Sulpricia are of course still together as companions, and don’t worry about his ex wife— they were on the rocks she’s ecstatic someone else can keep him in line.

The coven instantly takes to you, in fact you’re now basically Mother to everyone. Scolding, teaching, comforting, you do it all. But you’re also a leader and a ruthless one at that.

A perfect fit Aro thinks.

——

How’d he deal with his emotions?

You are driving Aro FUCKING CRAZY.

Literally mad.

You know how to push his buttons and you are not one to do as told. So for him, he who has anyone bending to his will to see you just cock a brow at him and laugh “awe.”

He wants to choke you half to death.

You are a Queen. He tells himself. It’s to be expected that you’d challenge him.

Sulpricia finds it HILARIOUS and you two are besties. Fuck that’s all he needs. She is ever so encouraging of your independence.

He often finds himself in Sulpricia’s study pacing rampantly, “what am I going to do with her?”

“You know you like it.” Sully says lounging back on her couch. “If you didn’t you wouldn’t be so utterly ass over tea kettle.”

Aro is not good with his emotions when it comes to jealousy. And he is JEALOUS.

You’re perfect to him, utterly beautiful, you are the sun and he Icarus stupidly flying as high as he can towards you in hopes to reach the light.

You’re also inclined to let him touch you whenever you want to express things without using words— and you’ve learned to let him speak to you telepathically as well.

So often you just sit with your pinkies touching on a couch and have back and forth silently except for the occasional twitch on your lips at a humorous comment.

You’ve managed to make him huff a laugh occasionally.

But he is utterly posessive. He does not like it when men stare too long, admiring is one thing, but nothing escapes Aro.

So when a lower guard had been in trouble for an infraction and when you had disciplined him the utter disrespect for a concubine replacement was across Aro’s mind and…welll—

Guard died.

You had just looked startled and gave a ‘oh well’ kinda shrug before touching ARo’s hand. Feel better baby?

Yes you called him baby in private, so modern, and he would NEVER admit he loved it. Baby, darling, love, honey, the list went on and each one twisted his insides into ribbons of absolute adoration.

You had actually taken to the bond so well Marcus had informed him that it was practically cemented.

His only hang up was himself.

——

Who does he ask for help?

Didyme is no longer there— his dear sister, a deep sorrow as he was accidentally responsible for her death.

Marcus however is always there to be the voice of reason, and he sits Aro down and listens to his brother spill his guts. Aro is terrified, he is well aware he is THE monster that makes OTHER monsters keep in line.

But for you to look at him like that? He could never bear it. His heart would break.

Marcus sighs, “Aro come here.” He drags his brother to the training grounds.

Where Aro get’s to see his mate literally tear apart the entire guard with blades…. Did his eyes deceive him— were those made from vampire ash and fangs?!

You pause your onslaught, “oh hi darling!” You prance over and smile, “like them? My witch-smith friend made them for me! Fucking bastards kept coming for me after awhile and ya know I just hate the idea of wasting shit.”

Marcus glanced at Aro and gave him a I told you so.

“Everything okay?” You ask looking concerned. You are dragging him along as he partially willingly let’s you take him to his sister’s gardens. “What’s wrong?”

And so, he exhales and does the one thing he’s never done with his gift.

He touches your hand and shows you his own thoughts.

He expects your recoil. Expects you to shun him. Expects your hatred and braces himself for it.

You gasp and when he’s about to drag his hand away and you grip him tighter. “No don’t…let me…” and so you watch— thousands of years of memories over the course of a week or two. Asking silent questions as the images play, getting silent answers in return.

And so, in return, you show him your human life— a life that had been riddled with abusers, torment and lack of love, the iron in your spine that had solidified your creation when you had dragged yourself from an open alley way at dawn into the sewer system after being left to die being drained by a nomad after a brutal assault. You shared with him that it had taken a lot for you to even move after what had happened.

Esme had found you.

And so your friends made sure you were okay even if you didn’t follow their diet.

You both spend time going over your pasts, Aro gently asking questions and you doing the same to answer as best you could.

It was why Rosalie and you got along so well, there were some experiences one could only understand by going through it. And you both had learned how to cope with the trauma you had.

Aro is patient, both of you taking time to feel through each others wounds, taking time to rework into each others personal space.

Marcus is stunned to tell Aro that the bond is nigh unbreakable after this exchange.

The Kings magically -coughs- big brother Marcus loses his shit finding out and Caius leads the search party with Demetri— cough cough— find the nomad and he’s now in a box limb free 15 feet below the dungeon with a tube connecting him to the surface, his tongue removed and he only gets blood once a year. *Jane lit them on fire multiple times to practice her accuracy and aim*

You find out of course, and smile through the dry sobs as all three embrace you like a big protective group hug. For the first time in a very long time, it’s safe.

Truly safe.

——

What happens when he tells you?

Aro is a man of few words, and honestly not much is needed between you two with the ability to go back and forth with his gift.

So in the middle of a walk in Didyme’s gardens he merely grabs your hand gently and kisses the top of your fingers.

And you’re flooded with his emotions.

The warmth and tenderness and absolute adoration is almost enough to restart your dead heart as venom pools in your eyes. “Aro…”

He loves you, loves you more than his own life, would give anything for you to make you smile.

This isn’t the love that is complacent, to just sit idle and rust away, he wants to chase you for eternity, whatever it takes to keep you at his side.

And you flood him right back— lowering the barriers you had and after a moment he merely leans down and presses his forehead to your own, giving the two of you time to just bask in the warmth of affection that’s swirling back and forth akin to the waves of the tide under the moon and sun at twilight.

——

First Kiss?

The leaders of Volterra were in the throne room, the Queens having their own thrones behind their husbands but visible carved in different woods to represent their personalities with different intricate features much like the brother’s thrones holding different crowning points but all the same color.

Your own is the same color as Aro’s throne, but mingled with mahogany accents. Ruby red stones slotted at the top with a crescent moon and sun carving emboldened with gold spiked halo.

Caius' mate's throne is a pale color, affixed with branches and beautiful earth like tones, complimenting her grounded nature.

Marcus’ Witch Mate is merely embellished in a ash throne, deep red almost black gems and the symbol for the overall witch and vampire alliance above her throne.

With all three positions of Queen in Volterra taken up by a true mate, it is the most stable the Volturi have been in several millennia.

But that day in particular was rough, there were a few traitors that had been brought forward— and one of them had managed to get loose from Felix as Aro had been gaining information lunging for the King’s throat.

You moved so fast no one even saw you as you streaked forward like a ghost and lobbed the vampire’s head off holding a blade made of vampire teeth expertly with an animalistic snarl.

You had positioned yourself in front of Aro, crouched, blade poised and your eyes wide and wild, teeth flashing with a dangerous snarl.

Marcus’ witch had already shielded Aro but paused when she saw how enraged you were. Athena and Sulpricia had faltered, Caius looked utterly proud.

You spun round, dropping your blade— knowing Felix and the others had everything in hand as Aro had reached for you, the two of you locked in an embrace, his hands holding your face still as your own hands grasped his wrists. Foreheads pressed together—

The coven was used to this, a private conversation but you could feel the utter terror that had gone through him when he saw you out of the corner of his eye. If anything had happened to you—he was almost angry at you.

But he could easily sense the rage that had consumed you at the thought of someone hurting him. Despite knowing the guard and Jane would Never allow it, your instincts had taken over.

No one would ever take from you again.

And you had been frightened.

Behind that rage when he got past it was utter fear that he’d be gone and you’d be all alone again all the tender memories would be the last you’d have of him as you gave a dry sob before the venom dropped from your eyes— a true show of vampiric emotion that was a rarity.

“Carissima, no. I’ll not leave you that easily.” He murmured and not giving a flying fuck about anyone in the room kissed you full on the mouth gathering you up in a tight embrace.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered half broken against his mouth. “I’m sorry-“

“I know I know, shhh cara mia shhh,” gathering you up he merely flitted out of the room leaving the others to deal with the issue.

Tons of snuggles. He had bundled you up to him in his private rooms and merely kept your hands together enjoying the shared emotions knowing the other was close and safe.

Aro knew exactly how to calm you, he merely showed you all his favorite memories, of the coven, of his travels, the antics his brother’s got up to. He replayed the moment he first saw you.

That always made you laugh of course she swears like a sailor.

——

First Time?

It’s in an elevator.

Okay so here’s the thing. The Volturi have these massive events, and your official coronation happens at one of these.

Aro is so proud.

And so fucking jealous as you are danced across the floor with other vampires— who are oh so respectful and as they should be as Aro watches from the upper floor like an angel of death.

You look stunning, your smile lighting up the entire ballroom, friends from near and far are there— even then Cullens— God bless Carly he even had animal blood brought for him.

You’re dancing around with Nessie laughing and watching the girl child giggle like a fiend before handing her off to the Shifter Aro hated the smell but it was what it was.

Over the course of the evening he was getting awful tired of sharing you. And as the evening wound down to an end you both were just going to take the elevator back up to the private rooms as the Ballroom was on the top floor of Volterra.

The energy crackled in the small space and you both glanced at one another. It was like a short fuse had been lit on a stick of dynamite.

We’re so not doing this in an elevator are we?

You didn’t realize you had said it out loud even as you both gravitated towards one another and his hands tangled into your hair sending gold pins flying to the ground as his mouth found yours and you let out a deep moan as his tongue swiped your lips before you happily opened them.

“We’re going to be patient. Cara mia. ” He said sternly more to himself than you— then groaned when your teeth tugged gently on his bottom lip knowing it drove him crazy. “Sarai la mia morte. Sulla mia tomba scriveranno 'ha giocato con il fuoco ed è perito felicemente’” his voice became heated as his hands moved over your form, “non mi importa più, vieni da me mia fiamma, brucia con me.” You will be my death. On my grave they will write 'he played with fire and perished happily'. I don't care anymore, come to me my flame, burn with me.

His hands were gripping your backside and hauling you up, pressing himself firmly between your thighs before grinding against you. But when his teeth scraped your neck your brain shorted out—

“Oh for gods sake Aro just fuck me already—” your hands were scrabbling at his waist coat and shirt pleased how easily the buttons pinged off the walls of the elevator.

Your mate let out a pleased noise, one that was utterly inhuman when your hands tangled into his raven locks and knocked the golden V pin to the floor allowing the ocean and pomegranate scent of his to curtain you from the world as he bent his head down and kissed you as if it were the last thing he would get to do just then. Right before he smacked his hand against the emergency stop button jolting the ride to the private floor still.

If you thought his kisses were something to be swooning over— because he always knew what you needed.

Well his gift extends to much and he is in tune with it.

Your mind is his favorite place to be, and he brutally uses what he knows to his advantage as his fingers skim up your legs flinging your skirt over your thighs to teasingly grind himself against you till you’re almost clawing at him half feral.

“My pretty little mate—“ he croons at you, “you looked so beautiful cara mia,” kissing down your throat before biting marks into your flesh licking them before continuing on as his teeth jerk the fabric of your bodice and sleeves off not even bothering with his hands. “E tu sei tutto mio, cazzo.” And you’re all fucking mine.

You were busy molding your hands against his form, loving how it was just ratcheting up his half mad with desire motions, twitchy, greedy, desperate to touch, “What was it you joked about that one time?” He was referring to a memory with your best friends over drinks.

You gulped and shivered a bit. “I believe I said sometimes a girl just wants to ahem— get slammed to a wall and fucked stupid?”

He smirked as his hands tore fabric off you letting his fingers to glide along your skin, allowing your own to do the same and showing you know exactly what he liked through the bond of touch.

If you’d been human the air would have left your lungs as he pressed his body tight to your own, pinning you in place letting you feel what you did to him, the hard length of his cock pressed into your belly. “What do you say we take care of that, hm?”

You’re speaking in tongues before he even takes you fully, and roughly, there’s no slow tender love making and frankly you’re just glad for it.

His wild smile sliding into a predatory proud smirk when you’re just a mess; whining at him, begging, pleading, twitching against him and oh you’re just so pretty when at his mercy.

He literally has the tongue of the devil.

“Did I finally break you little one?” He croons despite his rough movements sending you into another shockwave of bliss as your nails make claw marks in the wall.

Fuck he had— you’ll do anything if he’ll just continue.

Your submission is like a drug, he’s mad on it, hands digging against you, making small fissures of cracks along your hips that make you groan gleeful as you push closer for more of his touches.

“That’s right bambi, give me everything.”

That’s all you hear before he’s fucking you into the wall of the elevator, sinking his teeth into your shoulder and neck just to relish in the pain and pleasure filled noises that escape from you as you beg for more, more, just please give more it’s all you want.

“My good bambi.” He growls as he begins it all over again, rumbling in your ear as your try to escape the onslaught of sensations— but happy you can’t as his grip has you immovable. “You’re not escaping me just yet.”

You’re both a mess, not that either of you care. Adjusting yourselves as best you can—

You’re lucky his private rooms are close and he simply carries you and flits you both into his rooms; you both end up continuing what was started.

——

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He is a touch telepath, he knows exactly what you need.

But he also surprises you with what you didn’t even know you needed.

Snuggles, so many snuggles— Aro is not a tactile person— but with you?

Forget it.

He’s practically melting into your form and trying to fuse himself to you.

Massages, nuzzling your hair, biting.

Lots of biting— but not hard bites, love bites. Pressing his teeth to your skin to leave little imprints that he just can’t get over. You always poke fun at him for it.

Plus let’s face it.

Bite = Love.

He and Caius are on one mind with that.

He also took a note from Marcus and you both enjoy the heat of the baths together after a particularly long rough romp.

Which turns into a bath romp.

Because ahem *REASONS*

“I’m King I don’t need a reason to have you— now come here.” He’ll huff imperiously when you giggle at him as he drags you close into his embrace kissing you.

Okay he lies.

You looked too pretty in the bath.

Aro can’t help himself. That’s the reason.

——

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He is SHOOK when you tell him your favorite thing about him is his hands. You never feel misunderstood.

Even in the rare fights you simply huff and reach out to him, wiggling your fingers with a pleading glance; or if he won’t take your hand you’ll walk over sit in his lap and headbutt your forehead to his like an angry cat.

But usually Aro will take your hand and you both have a deep understanding of where you’re both coming from.

After a few moments it’s settled.

You kiss his hands, he knows you love how he plays you like a finely tuned instrument when alone.

Love when he delves his fingers into your hair and cradles you close even if you’re in the throne room— he’s the fucking king he can do what he likes damn it.

But Aro is startled by this— everyone hates touching him even though he can control his gift, they seem to think that— aside from his brothers and sister in laws— that he just loves to dive into people’s minds for funsies.

No it’s awful. Plain awful. He can barely stand his own mind why would he want to traverse someone else’s?

But that brings us to what he likes about you— he LOVES your head space. When he’s stressed it’s his favorite place to be because you have a vivid imagination, as a writer as well you show him stories you’ve thought of and worlds you’ve created with vivid detail. He finds it quite amusing to use watch your thoughts too on a daily, you like it simply because he’s close.

But aside from that it’s you.

Just You.

Just ALL of you.

He can’t pick don’t make the man pick, he would just keep you near him for eternity which you seem to have no issues with.

———

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically…I am a disgusting person…)

He is quite a posessive person.

Two Words:

Breeding Kink

You’re his and his alone, so the idea of ah— claiming you that way just sends him off into the ether.

The fact that you both have a breeding kink and literally can’t have kids is a GREAT thing because you’ve literally sat there a absolute mess after round five and thought out loud as he tenderly cleans you up, “shit thank god we can’t reproduce because I am 100% sure that’d have knocked my ass up—” which has had him shaking in mirth having to pause to control himself after a few moments.

Beg him for it.

Make that whining needy noise in the back of your throat at him for him to finally give you what you need.

He’ll just lose it, pin you by the throat and well— you’ve broken a few beds this way.

He has no shame.

Just glances at the bed, hits speed dial to the furniture store and orders a new one.

His only other favorite thing with C as he soon found out from O (you’ll see) was he adores when you swallow down everything he gives you. That’s got him rumbling in Italian about what a good girl you are and how much you please him.

———

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He’s a MASSIVE Pleasure Dom. And when I say Dom.

HE GOT DOM ENERGY.

With very mild Sadistic tendencies. (Thanks a lot Caius ya pervy fucker)

However he is also a very sincere soft streak when you’re a very good pet.

He picked up pet play from his sadistic brother hearing him call his amore Bunny. One day down the rabbit hole that is Google and he was hooked.

But he calls you Bambi. It’s an Italian term for baby-girl.

It also works because you become like a damn deer in the headlights when he pulls the Dominant voice on you.

It thrums with a low purr and has the capability to just make your brain go wait what?

HE’S A FUCKING SWITCH.

You had been pissed as shit at him. “I don’t know whether I want to strangle you or fuck you to death!” You paused because you had literally throat pinned him to the wall, the stone crumbling beneath him, feeling the muscles of his neck working as he swallowed nervously.

You were about to let go but saw his eyes had gone totally black and expectant and startled but excited.

He was just as fucking confused as you both calculated in a matter of seconds what had happened.

You were first to catch on. “Oh?….OH...….oooooohhhhhhh ….. you….you son of a….” You sputtered as he got a sly grin, “you can’t just look at me like— you are so ill behaved!!”

He wasn’t far behind and raised a black brow at you looking mischievous, “…..and what are you going to do about it mia regina?”

Next thing he knew he was face planted on his office floor with your boot pressed on his cheek making him groan low. “Gonna make you regret mouthing off to me is what I’m going to do my Aro.”

Edge him. Don’t let him touch you all day till he begs. He loves when you exert your authority especially on him? Oh forget it.

Queen Slay.

Literally you are his Queen and you are the only one who get’s to fucking tell him what to do.

And you ruthlessly do so when he’s in the mood. All you hear is “mia regina?” He’ll croon at you, as your hand comes up and drags him to you by his tie.

“would you like to be of service to me Aro?”

Magic words. He’s done, let him have you and he will literally just focus on your pleasure.

Worship Kink.

You had dropped to your knees at his desk and laid your head in his lap and he almost lost his god damn mind. You purred at him, “il mio maestro”.

Aro .exe has stopped fucking working.

———

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Thanks to the tactile telepathy as well as the fact that he and his brothers have slept their way through history, Aro is a very mixed lover.

When I say greedy as a lover, he wants your pleasure for himself. And will literally drive you to it till you’re sobbing for mercy.

He has none.

But he does take pity on you when he knows you’re truly at your limit with touch.

You weren’t inexperienced but his own experience blew yours out of the damn water. Can literally have you on the edge in mere minuets. And is SMUG about it.

Fucking smug bastard just watching you with that smirk on his face and a ‘well?’ Kinda expression.

You have to beg if you want it.

You have to plead, you have to let him hear you or he’ll just keep going and I quote ‘hmmm I can’t hear you cara mia, you’re being so quiet you know that makes me want to fuck you harder, come now, let me hear you— don’t make me have to drag it from you baby girl. You know I love to hear your sweet sounds.”

Could probably kill you if you weren’t already dead with what he can do with his hands.

His tongue is even better.

When asked which you preferred you had just panted desperately after a hard orgasm, “any. All. Both. God just…holy fuck.”

He cracked up over that. “My poor baby I broke her.”

————

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Loves having you in his lap.

Prefers to see your face and eyes, seems to need it.

But occasionally he just loves gripping your neck from behind and feeling you gasp against his grip as he slams into you roughly.

Adores anything that has you clinging onto him for dear life.

Likes being in a position to mark you. Favorite thing ever.

You had once tested his patience (willfully hoping for this outcome) a bit too much and he had pinned you completely immobile to the desk of his office and fucked you within an inch of your immortal life gagging you with his black tie.

“you just have to test me don’t you mia regina?” He had growled in your ear leaning over you, his hand crunching the ornate wood to splinters as you keened and whined for him to keep going. “Such a ill behaved thing you are, should just keep you here like this for when I please hm?”

He was not joking, you were kept there quite happily under his desk sitting at his feet your head on his lap waiting and absolutely willing.

He could feel your hands grip his thighs, “quit that I know what you’re trying to do and it’s not going to work—“ his voice teetered off in a guttural growl as he looked down.

You were biting his shirt looking up at him already nudging yourself between his thighs your teeth digging into his trouser zipper and tugging down.

his hands were gripping your hair jerking you up to kiss him deep, a growl against your lips, “Fucking damn it— come here.”

When you can get him to swear which is rare— yeah…

He didn’t exactly sound angry.

But he sure fucked you like he was though.

“This is what you were after hm? You brat!” A harsh laugh as he pinned you down a bit harder, “fine then I should ensure you’re good….and….sated…shouldn’t I bambi?”

———

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Very sincere.

Teasing but only in a very sexual way.

Borders on humiliation but he respects you too much.

Very serious though when he focuses on you.

He’s focusing on all the sensations you’re sending him, letting you know what he’s feeling as well which just sets you into the damn ether.

———

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

It’s ARO.

The man is vain.

The man is neat.

Clean and pristine.

He’d give a regal huff of annoyance, “I am not a heathen darling.”

———

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Ohhh you wouldn’t know it but he’s such a god damn romantic.

He is. And he MAKES time for you. The schedules are changed so you have time together more often— something that was never done before.

Operas, romantic walks out in Volterra at night.

Sightseeing.

Your favorite was your trip to Germany in the winter with a big cozy cottage and a big fire and lots of bedding to ahem— destroy.

Aro has penguin brain.

He brings you small gifts that made him think of you— you have a bracelet that has special charms he had custom made for you, a lochness monster for when you met, a castle obviously for Volterra, a doe, different tiny items that speckled through your life, each one means something— you hardly ever take it off.

You have a collection of very sparkly stones in many jars that he found on his missions.

They are actually gemstones— insert eye roll— they set off pretty prisms through your shared rooms.

“Aren’t you going to make jewelry of them?” Aro asks.

“No darling they are perfect just as they are.” You smile.

Aro actually has the literal voice of a damn angel.

He sings to you in Italian, soft dulcet sweet tones and dances you around your rooms teasing you relentlessly.

Aro writes beautiful poetry. He will at least write one every few months when inspiration comes to him.

You have your own private box at the opera house. As well as being allowed to fund artists across the world, you’ve found incredible talent on broadway and other venues.

Flowers. Aro ensures care for a private greenhouse for you on the roof, each flower has a meaning, and they all bloom year round given the proper temperatures on the greenhouse. “Why would I send you flowers when they die so easily.” He asks kissing your cheek as you smile over the new blooms. “This is everlasting, much more fitting.” He muses.

All his poetry is in a beautiful book Caius got you for your birthday.

———

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Why would he do that when he has you?

He is a patient man.

He can wait.

And he has pristine control over himself.

He is too old for pre-pubescent raging hormone crap.

But he will legit melt for you if you do it for him. Prefers it slow, enjoying your touch and loves to watch as you take instruction.

You’re such a good girl for him.

————

———

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Aro is a kinky bastard.

MASSIVE Pleasure Dom.

Worship Kink.

Edging.

Controlling Orgasms *you don’t get to come till he gives permission*

Collaring *your Volturi necklace is LITERALLY on a collar*

Overstimulation. *his gift allows him to know when you’re pushed to hard and when you can take a bit more. When you’re craving that over stimulus, he’ll give it happily. Knowing he can turn you into a babbling speaking in tongues, drooling, eyes rolling back mess just— just— GAH.*

Breeding Kink *Aro has a true breeding kink, ask him to fill you up beg him for it and he’s going to lose his mind.*

Gagging. *he loves to gag you, but also loves being choked by you or you grabbing onto his tie.

Wax Play *you’re a fire elemental user, bringing candles into play is just oh it’s nice. * Prefers to have it done TO him. Your air element gift also allows you to cool the wax quickly and give new sensations.

————

———

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Aro is private, he prefers somewhere comfortable to take his sweet time with you.

Rooms Private, hotel, somewhere he can just lavish you and enjoy everything you can give him.

He’d rather take the time to find a nice comfy setting.

But every blue moon— he’ll just look at you in that specific dress molding to your thighs.

He will drag you into an alley way and just rail the shit out of you keeping you quiet with a firm grip over your mouth as he hisses the dirtiest things in your ear.

You two once had a quick rendezvous in a changing room at a theatre. -shrug- it was empty oh well.

———

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

“Master?” You bat your eyes at him

His nostrils flare as he breathes in and just knows exactly what you want and you smell so fucking good.

The tone you use.

He knows. You want him. That’s it.

Unless it’s a trial— and DO NOT DO THIS BEFORE TRIAL.

And if you happen to when he takes your hand send him your fantasies after seeing him standing there all regal and watching his mouth form syllables so well and how much better it’ll be with his mouth— ahem— busy somewhere else.

He will be so mad at you.

He’s glaring at you behind a mask of calm and you can feel the fucking tremor in his limbs.

You just bat your eyes innocently at him and smile.

His face: you’re in SO MUCH trouble.

Brat energy??? During Trial?!??! Now is that the time to give brat energy!!???

Oh. Oh. oh you are so in trouble. When he gets done with ripping some poor idiots head off— okay not really they broke the rules— stalks over to you; grabs you by your oh so pretty collar, “come with me bambi.”

And just pulls you along to your rooms with you giggling the whole way and practically prancing behind him like a— well like a doe prancing into a lions den.

He’s tossed you over his shoulder once and just flitted out of the rooms into your private chambers, hurling you onto the bed before ripping into your clothing. “You best be ready for your punishment.”

“Oooohhhhhh absolutly master.”

“that’s my girl.”

The coven just rolls their eyes. Aro is less manic with you there and you surprisingly bring ease to the coven— so ya know what if that’s what does it whatever.

————

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Humiliation. No.

Impact play is one thing, but to intentionally hurt you no.

If he does impact play one hand is always touching you to ensure you’re okay.

————

———

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Giving? The man has a wicked tongue.

His oral game is LEGIT.

Will have you in a puddle of twitching ecstasy in mere moments of teasing because he knows where to touch and that’s not just his tongue but his hands.

Will kiss you all over before even getting to the ahem— final destination.

You’re either ready to combust or ready to strangle him when he finally just begins to devour you.

Eats pussy like a man starved but has all the time to enjoy.

Smug as Fuck.

Expect him to just watch you as you’re coming back down from the absolute height he threw you up to and glaring down at his smug grin as he waits before beginning all over again.

Will go all night if you’ve been ill behaved.

Your record is 20 before you BEGGED for a break.

He finally took pity and gave you a warm bubble bath and snuggles and praises.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like receiving, however it was more just a “hm, that’s nice—“

But with you.

Especially when you had decided to walk into his office, lay your head in his lap as you had sat yourself under his desk so he could work while he played with your hair (you have a comfy cushion there who was he to argue if that was the best way to be close and he could get work done??!!)

But his work was abruptly halted when you had nuzzled his cock through his trousers dragging your mouth wide as he became painfully hard in record time.

“what is it you think you’re doing bambi?” He purred looking oh so curious.

“Nothing.” You muffled around him as your teeth found his zipper and trouser buttons with a rather feral sound.

Upon finding out you had no gag reflex and having your nose buried in his pelvis as you moaned around him he was done for and he didn’t even care.

Work was forgotten.

Loves when you pleasure him, but of course has to be in control for the most part.

Buries his hands into your hair and loves throat fucking you, praising you the entire time. “What a good thing you don’t need to breathe dolcezza.”

You had hummed around him ecstatically.

The reward for this is always drool worthy.

Play with yourself as you do and let him see you do so keeping your clothing out of the way and you’ll have him break finally, that cool haughty composure cracking as his gaze goes just utterly uncontrollably wild, his hips moving a bit harder.

————

———

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

You both fuck rough.

But you both also love the slow and sensual moments too.

Especially if you have the time to just drown in one another.

It just depends on the situation.

Rough And Fast:

Slow and Sensual is how it usually starts off, he’s so attentive, so soft and cherishes you, that is till you growl at him for more and he has of course no other option but to give you what he wants.

You’re his queen after all what kind of mate would he be if he didn’t give in?

But has today been exceedingly trying for either of you?

Or is your mate quite amped up from a particularly rough trial?

You’ve been pestering him haven’t you? Hmmm.. yeah buckle up.

You’re in trouble and therefore need to relearn where your place is— it’s in your bed, beneath him losing your mind out of pleasure.

And he is all too happy to provide that lesson if you seem to forget.

You try to forget often. You damn brat.

Slow and Sensual

However sometimes he just wants to be gentle. And frankly so do you, you want to just bask in the bond you have and slowly explore all over again despite knowing you have memorized one another to heart by now.

Doesn’t matter, you still find things that surprise you, things that make you smile.

Places that when touched cause a jolt— well that’s new.

“I could spend my entire life mapping out your body carissima.”

“that’s an awful long time in bed.”

Aro would just smirk kissing down your sternum, “oh what a pity— I suppose my brothers shall have to cover for me hm?” Bite marks being pressed into your flesh, “I plan on leaving so many of these that I forget where they are so I can find them later.”

“Such an evil overlord.” But you’re giddy, he’s going to make your entire world tilt again with those slow careful hands of his and you’re going to enjoy every second of it.

———

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

You’d be surprised that such a patient man could be so damn impatient for you.

He’s not as impatient as Caius but not AS patient as Marcus.

So it’s a toss up when he’s twitchy during trials and catches a glimpse of you floating down the hallway in all your grandure and he mentally tosses a coin.

Nope he can’t take it that flash of leg just set him off.

“Excuse me I do belive I remembered something that needs my attention.”

The others just inwardly roll their eyes.

Next thing you know you’re gagged by his tie in his office pinned over the desk with his teeth buried in your neck and frankly you expected this you wore that damn skirt with the slit in it to tease him.

Seeing this just makes him let out a feral noise and a laugh at the end, “oh you planned that hm?” He nibbles the outer shell of your ear, “missed me did you?”

You can only nod as he continues, eyes rolling back as he knows exactly what you’re needing and it’s certainly not gentle right now.

“I have exactly fifteen minutes before my brothers come looking for me— think you can be a good girl and make me come?”

You smirk against the gag in your mouth before purring at him; and it’s off to the races.

He’s in trouble quite often for this— but who’s to argue with him.

He’s king he can do what he wants…. At times….

Okay most of the time.

Plus he’s always in a MUCH better mood.

I wonder Why.

————

———

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

While Aro does love to experiment your safety is his utmost importance.

But he’s a curious bastard and you are right behind him on that scale so sometimes your games become a bit risky.

Never life threatening but oh boy do you two get a grin and just glance at one another, “you know we haven’t done that yet.”

“No…. No we haven’t….”

And that’s how it usually starts.

The worst thing you two can realize is you both utter “I don’t know”.

Well now you have to know if either of you are able to ahem— arrive— under rather dire circumstances such as utilizing your gift (don’t worry your gift doesn’t hurt him he knows how to use fire too surprise surprise.).

You almost had a heart attack though and nearly killed him after.

He just cackled that manic laugh that had you joining in after hitting him several times.

———

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Need I say more than one word?

Vampire.

Aro takes his time most occasions, his slow, slow sweet time.

Now— you’d THINK that the rougher encounters would last a shorter period.

You’re wrong.

So wrong.

He lives for it you’re going to be so happy you’re a vampire and can’t really get sore except for when you both leave cracking handprints on one another.

————

———

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Sensory.

Crops, leather gloves, feathers, ben wa balls are huge and he likes that they are silent but give you that teasing sensation. Wax candle play is huge for both of you and you enjoy long luxurious heated baths and sauna sessions with one another.

Ooooo he loves it.

Leather gloves area huge thing for him but not for what you’d think— he likes to challenge himself.

Sure he can know what you’re feeling but he wants to be in tune with your physical responses as well and so occasionally he dons them just to test his knowledge.

Damn smug overlord is just as good and you hate it and now he’s smirking at you while popping his jaw with his hand on his elbow waiting for you to come back into your body.

“Shut up.” You rasp as your head spins.

“I didn’t say anything.” His raven hair slides across his face as he grins wider.

“Your SMUGNESS IS LOUD ARO.”

“Me?! Smug! Why I never…” -cue the dark chuckle before he starts it up all over again, “maybe once more to ensure you remember it’s not just the gifts edge hm?”

“Ohhhh I’m going to die.” But you reach for him biting his leather clad hands.

“No you won’t.” He hums happily, “I won’t let you. You’re not allowed to leave me bambi.”

————

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

HE IS SO DAMN UNFAIR.

But so are you.

He’s not as bad as Caius but he is close, and he only does it with LOOKS.

His eyes are utterly expressive, as is that mouth of his, so when he glances at you in just the right way you can feel it drop down in your gut and sizzle.

And he does it during trial. Oh but when you do it you’re in trouble. Psh.

He’ll tease you and brush your hand as he walks by just to know that you’re basically twitching from frustration at the end of the day and about to boil over as he leans down and licks your neck. “Bambi, awe, was I too mean to you? Hmm I should make it up to you shouldn’t I?”

He always makes it up to you.

The man has the best ways to use his mouth aside from running the coven and giving orders.

————

———

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Aro was quite clear studies, and private rooms were to be soundproofed.

He’s loud, swearing (which he normally does not do), praising mess of a man, it’s needed.

And you love it.

You can practically feel the vibration in his chest when he purrs at you, less growling, he’s not as violent unless you get him too worked up.

No no no, he loves making you melt, and knows exactly what to croon at you to make your mind go blank.

———

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He’s more posessive than Marcus. And that bleeds into a protective nature.

A bit controlling, but he knows very well he can’t do that to you as he had to Sulprica. BUT it doesn’t stop him from trying as gods forbid anything happen to you.

Less Jealous than Caius.

But his ah— mood swings can cause for quite an interesting feat.

Since Marcus and Caius were always the brunt of the bashing and warfare, and he the brains behind the operation, many seem to think he has no bite marks on his body due to not being in the fray.

No.

The problem is Aro becomes too violent. Especially because of his talent when touching his victims it tends to become a frenzy. Once he had decimated an entire coven single handedly because the rage they had was swamping him.

His brothers had to pin him down and try to relay calm emotions— his sister Didyme thankfully had been the one to bring him back.

You yourself are now that calm place.

At one point, a guard had been careless enough to have thought about you in ah— that way— Aro was aware you were quite beautiful, your personality no nonsense and many of the guard and lower guard considered you a maternal figure almost otherwise a very good friend.

But this guard.

Ohhh he coveted. What was not his.

But what was worse, was that on the way to the throne room he had spoken to you rather crassly, you merely ignored him; he wasn’t even worth your time. But he had glanced you over as if you were a rather tasty morsel, the imaginings of you spread out beneath him had Aro’s hands cracking his wrists.

You saw the change slightly as you were behind him. His spine went poker straight. “You dare.” It was worse, the guard had actually tried to think of how to lure you away to him— you were a queen so surely infidelity was expected—

The rumble in his chest was a whole new sound you’d never even heard.

Both Marcus and Caius were sitting straight up and narrowing their gaze at Aro before Marcus flitted over and guided you to Aro’s throne placing you on it and standing protectively in front of you.

“Marcus?” you peered behind the eldest king and he hushed you gently.

The guard was torn apart in mere seconds.

It was utterly ruthless and with no mercy.

“People tend to forget Aro is only about a thousand years younger than I.” Marcus muttered.

You blinked. Aro was at least five thousand meaning that Marcus was Six, Caius being the youngest at three.

Aro speared the entire guard with a terrifyingly cold glare before flitting over to you, gripping your head back by your hair and sinking his teeth into your shoulder and neck with a low growl.

The sentiment was well understood as the entire guard backed the fuck away from the dais— he closed the wound before his head shot up and he snarled at the coven tucking you into his embrace your face buried into his robes. “She is mine.” It was a quiet, soft voice that spoke.

“Aro.” you muffled tugging his sleeve and looking up at him.

He showed you “what he had seen and tilted his head. Would you mind cara?”

You lit the bastard on fire with a scowl aimed at the body winding your arms about Aro’s waist and nuzzling into his solid form.

A soft kiss in your hair, his body relaxing. “That’s my bambi.”

———

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Aro although he is lithe and tall….he’s not exactly easy to handle.

9” decent width, knows how to use it.

Be forewarned, he knows what he’s doing.

Tactile Telepathy, good luck remember to keep your head on straight.

————

———

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It’s less of a wistful like of yearning.

And more a burning bonfire of desire always in the wing of his mind ready to take over the forefront.

One glance at you and he wants you— granted he thinks it might cool down over the centuries but when you look at him like that and bite your lip and grin.

Nah.

Nope. This isn’t going away. Not at all.

He of course has excellent control so he is able to push other desires to the back of his mind, but once finished you are certainly at the front of the line.

Super high.

You both are insane.

You can be sitting reading and next moment with one small brush you’re gone from the library and you’ve tackled him through the doors of your rooms and pinned him to the floor.

Insatiable.

Good luck!

————

———

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Aro LOVES resting with you.

He likes to just lay with his hands on your body and watching your thoughts, you’re his favorite mind to go through and he just adores it.

You both can spend hours like this if you were allowed—

He likes when you drag your fingers through his hair.

Makes him melt.

Kiss across his eyes and kiss his hands as he brushes your mouth with his fingers trying to learn you all over again.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get enough.” He murmurs to you lazily. He has you nestled in his arms your head tucked under his jaw.

“That’s fucking fine by me.” You giggle.

He rolls his eyes and huffs a soft laugh kissing the top of your head. “Of course she swears like a sailor…”

#aro volturi

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theeslytherinslut · 3 years

Text

The Perpetual Freak (2/?)

Ch 2: Aboard the Hogwarts Express

Pairings: Sirius Black x reader, Marauders x reader Warnings: none, slight language (but that's for every chapter rlly) Word Count: 3,108

As if on cue, you heard a knock at the door just as your foot touched down onto the landing. The sound of quick, heeled footsteps sounded immediately after; Grandmother briskly coming down the hall followed by the slower steps of Blakely as he surely wanted to gaze curiously at your friends.

“Prongs!” you breathed upon seeing James, smiling fondly at the messy mop of black hair atop your friend's head.

“Twitchy!” he smiled back, opening his arms in greeting. You wasted no time in falling into them, smiling into his chest as his hug signaled the true return to Hogwarts.

“Mrs. Killianis,” James said, suddenly formal as he looked to your severe grandmother behind you. Following his gaze, you saw her eyes narrowing as Sirius and Remus all but fell out of the car, Peter’s wheezing laughter following them out.

You smiled fondly after them as Remus brushed the dirt from his knees, frowning up at Sirius. Sirius grinned back and ran a hair through his raven black hair, brushing it from his eyes.

“Hello, Mrs. Killianis,” Sirius said, his voice taking on a tone you’d never heard before. You and James glanced warily at each other.

“Hello, boys,” she said stiffly, her eyes now staring rudely at the scars littering Remus’ exposed skin.

Remus cleared his throat, clearly catching your grandmother's eyes. “Shall we get your trunk then?” he said, clapping his hands together as he smiled at you.

You offered him a sympathetic smile and pushed an apology into his head at your grandmother’s rudeness.

“That’d be great, Moony, thanks.” you nodded. Peter followed him up into your room dutifully. After a moment or two, you heard what sounded like a reprimanding noise followed by a sharp smack and idly wondered what was going on.

“I suppose you’ll be staying at the school for the Holidays again, yes? Blakely and I were planning a trip,” Grandmother said suddenly--it didn’t take a genius to figure out you weren’t invited.

“Definitely,” you answered briskly. The choice between a Hogwarts Christmas with the boys and a visit to Grandmother's sister’s house in the States with Blakely was a no-brainer.

“Lovely thing Hogwarts does, providing a home for the holidays,” James grinned, putting an emphasis on ‘home.’ Grandmother lowered her eyes, but Remus and Peter were already coming down the stairs, hauling your heavy trunk between them.

“Bloody hell, Twitch,” Remus huffed, blowing his thin brown hair out of his eyes, “What’d you pack?”

“Mind your tongue, boy,” Grandmother snipped as the two of them passed through the front door. “You won’t behave like the heathens that you are in my presence.”

“Er, right,” Sirius scoffed, rolling his eyes and laughing under his breath. “C’mon, Twitch, don’t want to be late.”

Eager to leave the situation, you quickly followed the boys out and made your way into the baking heat. Just as they made to load your trunk, you clucked your tongue as Peter fumbled his end and dropped it roughly into the undoubtedly magically enhanced trunk.

“Sorry,” Peter winced, rubbing his hands together in an anxious sort of way.

“S’Alright Wormtail. Now, shall we get a move on, then?” James said, using his wand to swing open the car door for you. You heard your grandmother let out a small gasp, and Blakely took a step back. As most parents took the time to drop their children off at Platform 9 3/4, the journey there was generally a sort of grace period if you wanted to use magic; the Ministry wouldn’t take the time to differentiate each use of magic on this day between parents and students. Per wizarding law, they'd never seen magic as you didn’t use it during your time here--aside from your special gift.

“Please,” you said, turning to leave without glancing back.

“You aren’t going to say goodbye?” you heard Remus ask. You turned to answer him before you slipped into the car, but he wasn’t talking to you.

“Excuse me?” Grandmother said, clearly affronted he was saying anything more than ‘hi’ and ‘bye.’

“Honestly, Moony, just let it alone,” Sirius moaned as he made his way back out of the car to gather him.

“You aren’t going to see your granddaughter for 9 months, surely you’re going to at least say goodbye?” Remus pressed on, equally affronted. Sirius took a step closer to his friend, and you saw your grandmother’s eyes fall upon the several tattoos that already littered his arms; Sirius lived to upset his family, and tattoos were such a Muggle form of rebellion it only bolstered his point.

Her eyes then fell to the both of their wands, which were gripped tightly in their hands, and let out a breath she’d been holding. Lowering her eyes but acquiescing nonetheless, she sighed.

“Goodbye, then,” she said stiffly, nudging Blakely, who was locking eyes with a mischievous looking Sirius. Glancing behind Blakely’s head, you saw a dish hovering dangerously above his head and looked to see Sirius' wand pointed right at it. Rolling your eyes, you pushed the dish back with your own and threw a knowing grin at Sirius.

“Naughty, naughty boy,” you said silently. He grinned back boyishly at you and threw you a wink.

“See you next summer,” Blakely allowed, lowering his eyes at you and grinning in an awful sort of way. You could’ve sworn you heard a growl on your right and found Remus glaring at Blakely, who swallowed harshly and disappeared back into the house. At that, you slipped into the front seat next to James, the rest of the boys piling into the backseat, Remus scolding Sirius for shoving Peter out of the way to get in first. Fondly, you smiled and listened to them bicker.

“Merlin, glad that’s over.” Remus shook his head as James smoothly pulled away from the house. “Don’t know how you do it all summer.”

“Aw, what’s the matter, Moony? Not a big fan of familial tension, are we? I think it’s rather quite nice; reminds me of home,” Sirius said with a fake voice of longing. James looked through the rearview mirror and rolled his eyes at Sirius.

“Muggles giving you hell again?” Peter squeaked from the backseat, grabbing the head of your seat and leaning up towards you.

He’d always been a mousy boy, but after his first successful transformation, his commonalities with his Animagi only became more pronounced.

“When do they not, Wormtail?” you laughed, throwing a gum wrapper at him playfully as you popped a piece into your mouth.

“Ooh, is that gum?” Sirius asked, peering over your shoulder from the backseat.

“Yes, but it’s Muggle-gum.” you reminded him.

“Bit boring, but it’ll do. Jamesy won’t let me smoke in the car,” Sirius sneered, looking amusedly at an annoyed-looking James in the mirror.

“It smells! Isn’t my fault Dad has the nose of a bloody hound,” he defended, looking disgruntled at the thought of being a do-gooder.

“Good ol’ Fleamont, what a chap,” Sirius laughed, spreading out on the backseat and draping his arm along the seats. He reached and affectionately gave Remus’ hair a tussle, jostling Peter in the process, who grinned.

“So, now that we’ve all been reminded how horrible my lovely grandmother is, how was everybody else’s Holiday?” you asked as James drove the car expertly around the busy London streets--Muggle driving was a skill he was particularly proud of.

“Oh, you know, wonderful as always. Mother only threatened to have me disenfranchised and disgraced twice this year, so that’s a mark better than last Holiday.” Sirius laughed, blowing bubbles with his gum but frowning in disappointment when they popped.

“Didn’t you go to Prongs’ early this year?” you asked, remembering James’ letter that Sirius had arrived a few weeks into break.

“Yeah, don’t know why the evil hag insists on having me around anyway. All she does is dote on Regulus and send the nearest object flying at my head. Don’t even get me started on Kreacher...I don’t think I’ll go back next year.” a dark look came over his features, and you found yourself staring at him.

“What?” you asked, shocked at the nonchalant tone of his serious words.

“Yeah, I didn’t so much go to Prongs’ early this year as I did run away,” he said, looking slightly sheepish as you looked accusingly at him.

“What? What happened? Why didn’t you tell me?” you gasped, turning in the front seat entirely to glare at him.

“Dunno, I mean, I’m telling you now, aren’t I?” he shrugged.

“Well, go on then, tell me more,” you insisted.

“Just more of the same Twitch. You don’t understand,” he paused, and his usual carefree, light demeanor vanished and was taken over by a dark cloud that seemed to fill the car. “That house, it’s like a black hole. It swallows you whole. It’s like a bloody residential dementor. Every decent thought you have gets sucked into the black wallpaper, every horrible thought you’ve ever had on repeat, magnified. I can’t breathe in that house; they’re all so cozy, so comfortable in that dark, that evil. The Noble House of Black, it’s killing me slowly, draining the life out of me.”

He seemed aware of how much he was saying, how serious he’d gotten, because, at the end of the little speech, he let out a deep breath and forced a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck subconsciously.

“Nothing like Prongs’ here, for example,” he grinned up at his friend, who shot him one from the mirror.

“I mean, you basically already lived there,” James shrugged. “Besides, Mum was thrilled--you know, I think she likes you better than me sometimes.”

“Oh, she definitely does, mate. Euphemia and me? Kinda besties,” Sirius grinned, and the dark cloud dispersed. You found yourself staring at Sirius, chest full of emotion. The quickness with which he dismissed himself was almost worse.

“And, Moony? How was yours?” James asked, filling the silence.

“Decent, I suppose. Though I’ve almost worked my way through every decent book worth reading at the library closest to home, all the rest are the silly little Muggle books in that dingy section they have in the back...though I started reading this one called the ‘Bible’; Merlin does it tell some truly fantastic tales...whales eating people, turning water to wine, healing the blind--this Jesus bloke even rose from the dead! I reckon he was some type of early wizard or something, don’t know how the Muggles don’t...” he trailed off while the rest of you shared knowing glances. Moony was prone to monologues full of on-the-spot thinking, constantly prattling on about something he’d read in some book.

“You’re doing it again,” you shot a meaningful look at Remus, who blushed scarlet at your mental words and trailed off.

“Hey, no fair!" Sirius whined from the back seat at you. "I wanted to see where he was going with that. There definitely could’ve been something in there well worth making fun of!”

“Opportunity missed, Padfoot.” James hissed in sympathy at his friend, smiling at him in the rearview mirror.

“You all leave Moony alone. Just because he gets abnormally excited about really obscure Muggle things doesn’t mean we get to make fun of him for it,” you shot a smile at Remus in the back seat, who rolled his eyes but nonetheless smiled around sheepishly.

“How was your summer, James?” Peter asked from the backseat, leaning up hopefully.

“Alright, my parents set up a little Quidditch pitch in the back; Sirius got his arse handed to him a couple times,” James smirked, throwing a playful grin at his best friend in the backseat.

Wormtail laughed gleefully at James’ story as he described a match while Sirius sat up indignantly, poised to argue.

“I’m a Keeper, Potter. Not a sodding Seeker. Not too quick to tell everyone how miserable you were at trying to get the Quaffle in, though, are you?” Sirius quipped from the backseat.

“Down, boy. We all know how great of a Keeper you are, wouldn’t have won that last match against Ravenclaw without you..” you pushed into Sirius’ head, stroking his bruised ego. He met your eyes in the rearview and smirked up at you, clearly appeased by your comment. Lounging lazily once more in the roomy backseat, he turned to Peter.

“What about you, Wormtail? Your Holiday good?” Sirius said, cocking his head at his friend with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“S’alright..” he trailed off, looking around nervously as Sirius grinned at him.

“Really? Didn’t miss having Prongs’ arse to kiss?” he sneered at his friend, who blushed and stuttered.

“Let him alone, Pads,” Remus smiled at his friend from across the seats.

Just as the boys began to bicker more harshly, James pulled into the parking lot at Kings Cross, and the group of you piled out of the car.

“Wormtail, go find us a trolley,” Sirius said, and with a wave of his hand, Peter was gone.

“Obedient little bugger, isn’t he?” Remus said praisingly, rubbing his chin.

“Why d’you think he’s made it this long?” Sirius laughed, lifting his trunk out of the car as Peter came wheezing around with the trolley.

“I’ve got it, Y/N,” Peter said, exerting tremendous effort to lift your trunk until Remus saw him and reached in to help.

“Thanks, Peter...always so helpful.” you pushed to him in thanks. You saw him blush violently and smile to himself.

Your gift had taught you many things, but perhaps above all: people were so easily manipulated, one well-timed compliment, and it could send a person fawning. Though you weren’t shy to use it to your advantage, it was lucky a person of your moral stature had the gift. It could be so easily used...perhaps it was thoughts like these that led to the Sorting Hat’s consideration of your placement in Slytherin.

Half an hour later, your trunks were placed in the train's storage carriages, and the group of you were lounging in a compartment, your various pets making random noises as they settled in for the long train ride.

Jinx hooted sleepily in his cage before lifting his wing and drifting off to sleep. Sirius’ handsome jet-black Screech Owl, BamBam, seemed to take a cue from Jinx and buried his head into his wing as well. They almost resembled salt and pepper shakers as they stood next to one another in direct contrast. To most everyone's intense surprise, Remus’ pet was a fluffy siamese cat named Cleo. Unsurprising, however, was Peter’s choice of a pet rat named Nibbles. Though, Nibbles was on his last leg--most common rats only lived a couple of years, and Nibbles had been with Peter since first year.

“What’re you doing?” Peter asked, sitting up interestedly in his seat as Sirius drew out his wand and flung open the compartment door.

“Having some fun,” Sirius shrugged, the grin you all loved so much donning his face. James watched his friend and broke into a smile; Peter seemed to be struggling to sit still with excitement; even Remus peered over the top of his book to watch.

Fully aware he was holding all of your attention, Sirius pointed his wand at the wall opposite your door.

“Carpe Retractum,” Sirius said, and a length of rope came spouting out at the end of his wand. “Bollocks...what’s that one to get something to stick to something else?” he asked into the compartment after a moment.

“Epoximise,” Remus answered from behind his book once more, seemingly having seen everything he needed to.

“Right, cheers, Moony,” Sirius smiled and did the incantation, sticking the other end of the rope to the wall. Pulling on his wand, he seemed to test his theory and smiled in success as the rope pulled taught--effectively making a tripwire.

“Very nice,” you complimented, to which you received a playful little bow of his head.“Might I suggest something, though?”

“By all means, Twitch,” Sirius said, gesturing to the tripwire.

“Omnino dissimulare,” you spoke, pointing your wand at the length of rope. As the white beam of light hit it, the rope disappeared from view, and you smiled triumphantly. You’d been working hard on that one towards the end of last term and were worried you’d have to start over with the holiday break.

“Excellent!” Peter cheered, clapping wildly at the two of you.

“Where’d you learn that?” Remus said, finally putting his book down and looking at you curiously.

“Been working on it for a bit. Found it in a book Madam Pince let me take home last Christmas,” you answered, feeling a bit smug that you’d impressed Remus.

“Pince let you take home books?” Remus said, incredulous.

“You know she pities me,” you laughed, waving a hand. “Though, she did threaten to turn me inside out if there was so much a creased page--so only marginally.”

“Wait, wait!” Sirius called, pointing to the door excitedly; Peter was positively quivering.

A group of already-robed Slytherins came strolling past your window, and you smiled in anticipation. At the last second, Sirius jerked his wrist and tightened the rope, sending the group of Slytherins sprawling across the floor.

The group of you exploded into laughter, and they all got to their feet, whipping their wands out, looking for a culprit. Given the rope was invisible, however, they found no such thing and resigned to giving the group of you ugly looks before grumping off.

“Oh, very good, Padfoot,” Peter simpered, laughing heartily as tears of joy rolled down his plump cheeks.

“A little juvenile,” Remus scolded, smiling ruefully at his friends, “But funny. However, as a Prefect, I am not to indulge in such behavior and as such must sincerely reprimand you.”

“Most eloquently spoken, dear Moony. Tell me, does being a Prefect mean you have to be just a bit of a prat on principle?” James asked his friend, painting a serious look on his face as Sirius and Peter erupted into laughter. You let out a small giggle as Remus blushed slightly and put down his book.

“Well, you should sure as hell hope not,” Remus began, smiling mischievously at his friend. “Imagine fawning after Lily Evans for years, at her often utter disgust, only for her to end up being a prat. Talk about unfortunate, mate.”

The group of you were in stitches over Remus’ response, and even James let out a laugh.

“Touche, Moony. Touche,” he laughed, shaking his finger at Remus in a playful manner. A warm feeling spread through you; you were so happy to finally be going home.

************

Taglist: @whiskeypowder

62 notes · View notes

nekojitachan · 4 years

Text

Okay, so I think I’m going with ‘the real thing’ for a title. Subject to change of course. But as I sorta promised, more andreil soulmate not fic. Same warnings as before (mention of past abuse, referenced but not described/detailed sexual abuse, Andrew on meds so...).

Part four (previous part w/ links to the OTHER parts can be found here)

*******

Andrew was about to murder his new bestie; it had been three days since Moreau had all but promised to spill secrets, and if Andrew had to wait much longer? The backliner would be spilling blood instead.

Yes, among his various character foibles (he refused to see them as flaws, not matter what the shrinks rudely insisted) was his very low tolerance for patience when he felt that he was owed something. And he most definitely felt he was owed the truth about what was going on with Nathaniel.

Perhaps Moreau sensed his imminent bloodletting because he muttered ‘tomorrow’ to Andrew as they passed each other in the hall on Tuesday, which granted him a temporary stay of execution. Andrew grunted softly in acknowledgement, then knocked his shoulder into Bautista, who’d been staring a bit too long at Nathaniel.

The backliner glared at Andrew once he regained his footing, but all it took was Andrew ‘smiling’ at him and the older Raven averted his eyes and scurried away.

People were slowly getting the message that Nathaniel was off-limits.

Wednesday came and at first started off as a normal day; early as hell practice, Aaron being smug about getting a good grade on their biology test (Andrew kept his better grade to himself), barely staying awake in his classes, then back to the Nest for more stupid Exy practice. Except Riko and Kevin were gone, off to Detroit to play the next two nights for their professional team (who could keep them), which meant that Andrew just had to wait for Nathaniel to be pulled away, too. He gave Moreau a pointed look when they (and Nathaniel) went out onto court to play in a scrimmage, but the French bastard merely returned it with a blank expression.

Andrew may have aimed a ball or two at the bastard during the scrimmage.

He’d just settled on his bed with a new book to read (sent by Nicky) when his phone vibrated with a message from Moreau for him to come right then to the break room in the Black Hall. Part of Andrew wanted to ignore the summons, but his desire to find out the truth won out over his ornery nature so he got up and left his room without saying a word to his partner (not that Ben acted surprised at all to see him leave). There were a few Ravens out in the hallways, but none brave enough to question him, especially when he headed in the direction of the Black Hall.

Very few went there unless invited to by one of the ‘perfect court’; people would assume it was just him getting away from Ben and raiding the ‘good’ break room again while Riko was gone.

Like he wouldn’t raid the break room while Riko was standing in the middle of it.

Moreau was waiting for him with a mug of coffee in hand. “Nat should be busy for a couple hours at least,” he said by way of greeting.

Andrew went to fix coffee for himself. “Translating stuff.” That’s what Moreau had told him the other day. “He do that a lot?”

“Somewhat. He’ll be called up to the East Tower during games to translate for some of the guests up there, or to work on documents for Tetsuji or Kengo.”

“Kengo, Tetsuji’s brother and Riko’s father.” Andrew knew a few things.

“Yes, Tetsuji’s brother.” Moreau gave him a considering look then focused his attention on the door of the break room as if to ensure that no one was out in the hall. “Are you sure you want to-“

“Tetsuji’s brother,” Andrew said to urge Frenchie on. “Tell me about the man, everything.”

Moreau gave him an intent look as if judging how serious he was about things (about Nathaniel) before he sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, he resumed speaking. “The truth of the matter is, the Moriyamas came into their wealth by being crime lords – yakuza. Kengo is the current head of the organization and his oldest son, Ichirou, will take over when he dies.”

Well, that somewhat explained how Tetsuji could be such an abusive bastard and Riko treat people like belongings; they clearly believed themselves to be above the law. “So Tetsuji and Riko do whatever they like because they’re mobsters?”

Moreau wrinkled his nose, which had been broken at one point and not properly set, as he sipped his drink. “Not… exactly. Kengo and Ichirou are part of the main branch, the line that inherits the wealth and responsibility of the Moriyamas. Kengo, as the Moriyama lord, was to only have one son, one heir, but his wife bore two.” His expression grew guarded as he glanced at Andrew for a moment. “She died for that mistake, and Riko was disinherited, was given to Tetsuji to be raised as part of the side branch.”

“Funny, but I always believed it takes two to tango.” When Moreau merely shrugged at the comment, Andrew clicked his tongue. “So Riko has no real power?”

“Not… exactly,” Moreau repeated, and glared when Andrew threw a crumpled napkin at him. “Asshole.”

“Tell me something new,” Andrew said with a wide grin. “Oh, wait, that’s what you’re supposed to be doing right now.”

Moreau muttered in French something while he tugged on his long bangs then sighed. “Riko is still a Moriyama, which means he has money and connections, but has nowhere near the power he’d have if he was part of the main branch.”

It sounded as if someone, a certain spoiled, psychotic brat, might have to answer to his ‘betters’. “And where does Nathaniel fit into all of this?”

It was quiet for about a minute as Moreau stared into his mug then huffed. “The same as I do, more or less. We were sold to the Moriyamas by our fathers.” He looked up at Andrew, who stood there… mentally prodding at that bit of information. “No comment?”

“How the hell do you ‘sell’ someone?” He knew the logistics, but somehow it didn’t seem to fit when one applied it to Exy players.

“Well, in my case, my parents owed a debt to the Moriyamas and decided that it was best paid off by offering me to Tetsuji since I knew how to play Exy.” Oh no, Frenchie didn’t sound bitter about that at all. “In Nat’s case… his father is in charge of a large amount of territory on the northeastern coast and reports to Kengo. For some reason, Nat can’t take over from the man, so he was given to Tetsuji.”

“Nathan Wesninski,” Andrew said as he remembered the redhead with the soulless eyes, the businessman with all the ‘interesting’ rumors.

Moreau nodded in a grave manner. “Yes, Nathan Wesninski, the Butcher of Baltimore. He comes here now and then to deal with people who’ve run afoul of Kengo, and often he reminds Nat to ‘behave’.” He shuddered as he rubbed his right hand along his upper left back. “If you think Riko or Tetsuji is abusive, they have nothing on Nathan. He’s responsible for most of Nat’s scars.”

Most, but not all.

Andrew thought about what he’d been told, about someone thinking they owned his soulmate, that they could abuse him with impunity, and ‘smiled’. “No one owns Nathaniel.”

“Including you?” Moreau dared to ask as he set the mug aside, his expression blank as his obnoxiously tall body coiled with tension, coiled as if ready to launch itself at Andrew.

Andrew clicked his tongue at that bit of nonsense. “Did I stutter?” he asked, each word enunciated slowly. “No. One. Owns. Nathaniel. Do I need to learn sign language or that mumbled slurring you call French so you’ll understand better?”

“I don’t want to hear that from someone who grunts out German,” Moreau snapped, as if he couldn’t think of anything more offensive, but he’d relaxed against the counter.

Whatever. If Andrew was a lesser person, he’d be rolling his eyes right then instead of shoving the good granola bars, packets of honey (it was some type of sugar), and energy drinks into the pockets of his hoodie and track pants. “Anything else I need to know? Moriyamas are mobsters and bad, Nathaniel’s father is a serial killer and really bad, and Riko is under the mistaken belief he owns the two of you.”

There was a brief muttering of French again before Moreau shook his head. “That’s it. But be aware that since Riko feels he owns Nat, he probably believes that extends to you.” He rubbed the soul mark hidden beneath the sleeve of his black hoodie, his expression neutral but grey eyes bleak.

Oh, just let Riko try to put a leash on him and lead him around, Andrew would wrap it around the prick’s neck and strangle him with it. He was about to leave the room when something occurred to him. “Does Riko only give Nathaniel out for ‘rewards’?”

He knew the answer as soon as Moreau’s expression shut down, as the backliner wrapped his arms around himself as if to shield himself from someone. “Why do you care?”

Andrew could say because Moreau was Nathaniel’s partner and as much as it galled him, Nathaniel cared about the French bastard. He could say that he knew what it felt like to have unwanted hands and mouths and worse on him, to be used without a care (except he wouldn’t, not to someone he barely trusted). He could say because he needed to know exactly how bad it was with Riko’s power games.

Yet all he did was give the backliner a two-fingered salute before he walked away, well aware that he wouldn’t answer if asked a similar question.

Ben gave him an expectant look when he returned to their room, so Andrew threw him an energy drink and granola bar which his partner caught with a wide grin.

Nathaniel appeared tired during practice on Thursday, but didn’t move as if he’d been injured in any manner. He smiled at Moreau as usual and talked to a few of the Ravens (the ones who didn’t look at him as if he was a piece of meat), and gave Andrew a puzzled look now and then as if he was trying to figure him out.

Good luck with that.

Friday, Aaron bumped into Andrew as they left Biology class and muttered ‘don’t lose, I’ve bet a bundle on you’ on his way out the door, which made Andrew want to lose the game on purpose until he remembered Nathaniel. Nathaniel, who sat in the seat in front of him on the bus as they traveled to WVU for their latest game. Nathaniel, who peaked over the seat to frown at him. “That… doesn’t look like an English assignment book to me.” He motioned to the current wolf shifter ‘romance’ novel Andrew was reading as a diversion.

“It’s not.”

“Okay.” Nathaniel went a whole fifteen seconds (nibbling on his full bottom lip the entire time, which did nothing to Andrew to watch, nothing). “What does ‘omega’ mean?”

Oh no, Andrew wasn’t having an A/B/O discussion with his soul mate on a crowded bus. No. “Going to cheer us on as we defeat the Mountaineers?”

Nathaniel frowned as he ran his long, slender fingers (which Andrew didn’t think about at all, about them on his- he didn’t think of them AT ALL) along the top of the seat. “I wish the Master would have let me play this year, I’m more than ready. And you shouldn’t have a problem tonight, they’re weak on their offense, they act tough but they crumble if you don’t back down in four seconds.”

Andrew listened as his soulmate went over a concise review of the Mountaineers that was better than what he’d suffered through in the past week, mindful to pay attention to the few players Nathaniel singled out. When his soulmate finished up his summary of the other team, Andrew gave him a solemn nod and a quiet ‘thank you’, which made Nathaniel blink at him and a slight blush spread across his sharp cheekbones before he muttered something and ducked back down in his seat.

That allowed Andrew to finish his wolf shifter book (light on the plot, which was why he liked the books – he could finish them in a few hours without much brain cells involved and have a bit of twisted amusement over its ridiculousness).

At least it wasn’t a long drive to WVU, a campus known for its partying which somehow, Andrew doubted the Ravens would be allowed to join in; Tetsuji made sure to segregate the team from the rest of the university as soon as they arrived and set them up to practice on the court once they were in uniform.

Someone had no sense of adventure.

At least he got to watch Nathaniel stretch with the rest of the team (he was still trying to figure out if it was a good or bad thing that his soulmate was so damn flexible) and do drills before he retreated to the sidelines. That was around when Riko and Kevin came back from dealing with the press, and Riko made sure to hold up two fingers to Andrew as he walked past.

Such a shame Andrew didn’t have anything sharp in hand at the moment to shove into the bastard’s throat.

What he did have was a growing clarity as the drug-fueled mania slowly faded away (yet how odd, the urge to kill Riko still remained); he watched the first half of the game against the Mountaineers all too aware of Nathaniel sitting next to him on the bench, lean body twitching each time the Ravens scored a goal or lost possession of the ball. Nathaniel smiled, slight but pleased, whenever Moreau successfully blocked a Mountaineer, and glared when his partner took a rough hit.

He nearly jumped in his seat when Andrew cleared his throat. “Yeah, weak in offense.”

Nathaniel turned toward him, a slight frown on his face, and for a moment Andrew thought he wouldn’t speak. “Most of them. Peters’ being rougher than usual tonight.”

He was the one trying to take down Moreau. “Cheng’s trying to fake out Ivanova into thinking he’s shooting for the top of the goal then going lower.” The striker had done that twice so far, and gotten past the goalie once.

That slight smile appeared once more on Nathaniel’s lovely face (not that Andrew had any real opinion on how the redhead looked or anything). “You noticed that?”

Andrew clicked his tongue and forced his attention back onto the game. “I just spend my time in a painted box waiting for people to throw balls in my direction. Not like I do any real work out there.”

“Of course,” Nathaniel murmured, but he sounded amused for some reason.

The first quarter ended, which meant that Moreau was swapped out for Federov, which also meant that Nathaniel took to speaking quietly with his partner in Japanese until halftime.

Perhaps it was the lack of drugs in his system, perhaps it was knowing that Moreau was concerned about his own soulmate (the fear of Riko finding out who he was), but as he glanced at the two backliners out of the corner of his eye… there was evident affection between them and long familiarity, but nothing to suggest they were in a relationship themselves. There weren’t any lingering touches or glances, nothing intimate or possessive between them.

Yet Andrew still felt a ridiculous urge (which he ignored) to shove Moreau off the bench.

It was almost welcome to be out on the court for the second half of the game, to be away from Nathaniel and the traitorous emotions the bond between them awoke in Andrew. In the goal, his world focused down to the idiots trying to get past him to score a point, which he refused to allow.

(He knew he couldn’t keep shutting down the goal for the rest of the season, but WVU wasn’t much of a challenge.)

Moreau gave him a nod in acknowledgement when the teams lined up at the end of the game, while there was a look of relief on Nathaniel’s face before he schooled it into a blank expression when the Ravens gathered in the locker room for Tetsuji to give them a gruff ‘you did a decent job today’.

Riko caught Andrew on the way to the bus, a thoughtful gleam in his eyes as he blocked Andrew from exiting the stadium. “Impressive job out there tonight. Perhaps there’s something to letting you play… natural.”

“Only so much at a time,” Andrew said as he smiled, his expression exaggerated once again since he’d taken a pill after the game; it wasn’t that long of a drive back to Edgar Allan, but long enough that he’d be experiencing withdrawals by the time they reached campus so he’d went ahead and taken it.

He’d have to wait until next week to have time with Nathaniel as ‘himself’.

Yet the urge to protect Nathaniel as they went to his soul mate’s room, to make Federov and Bautista and the other Ravens who stared at the redhead in a hungry manner glance away in fear was still there, as well as some tremulous emotion when Nathaniel didn’t insult him or run away but walked beside him.

There were a fresh set of sheets on Moreau’s bed when he entered the room.

“Try not to snore so much this time,” Nathaniel said, a half-hearted sneer on his face as he dropped onto his bed.

Andrew gasped as he clutched his hands to his chest. “I have never been so slandered in my life. Never.”

Nathaniel scoffed as he rubbed at his eyes as if he was tired. “Right, that’s the worst you’ve ever heard. Such a sheltered life you’ve led.” Then he dropped his hands and had the grace to look guilty. “Uhm, I mean… that didn’t come out right.”

The press had delighted in going on about his stint in juvie, him being in the foster system and of course him being arrested for beating up the assholes who’d hurt Nicky, not that he’d cared at all. “I know not what you mean, I’m just an innocent babe alone in this wicked, cruel world.” He tried to bat his eyes but wasn’t sure it worked well with the manic grin.

Nathaniel gazed at him for several seconds before he sighed and stood up. “I didn’t see you take a hit to the head earlier so I think it’s okay for you to go sleep,” he mumbled as he went into the bathroom to get ready for bed.

Andrew gasped again. “You care for me! You truly do care!” His lips twitched when his ‘dear’ soulmate gave him the finger before the bathroom door slammed shut.

At the very least, someone didn’t quite hate him as much anymore. Who knew, maybe by the time he graduated, Nathaniel might even trust him.

He blamed the drugs for the feeling of warmth in his chest at that thought.

*******

IDK, still working through some things, but lately it’s been... if I post is that a sad cry for attention? Am I being annoying? Maybe I shouldn’t post stuff... but I said I’d post this.

*sighs*

Anyway, back to writing the other fic. Hope everyone is staying safe.

#nekojitachanfics #mumbling into the void #andreil soulmates #soulmates au #raven!andrew #raven!neil #edgar allan ravens #neil as nathaniel #andrew minyard #neil josten #jean moreau #riko moriyama #kevin day #protective andrew #protective jean #we're starting to get somewhere #why yes andrew please do tell neil about a/b/o #you know nicky sent him those books #aaron minyard

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iphoenixrising · 4 years

Note

hey we haven’t heard anything from you in a while. everything good? How’s life treating you? All my love for one of my favorite batfam writers!💗💗💗

Hi babe.

Ah sorry, I’ve been super busy at work and with kiddo :( I mean, I’m still writing when I can, but it’s just time and motivation. My project has really taken off (reads as: expanded) and most nights I’m chipping away at the massive amount of documentation for not only a Java-based framework, but an entire Platform *sob* So, it’s just such a huge amount of old articles and brainstorming sessions and meeting minutes and just ugh. I mean, it’s kind of interesting to try tracking all these things down and figuring out how they’re going to work together since the developers (from 12 to 50-ish, my God and now they want me to read markdown and do pull requests for comments and shit because this is my fucking life) are still working on the platform services, the development environment, and all these fucking tools I’ve never heard of (Kubernetes, wtf is this thing??) so I’m learning a foreign language almost tbh.

Did I mention *sigh*?

ANYWAY, also some of the things I’m working on that are like Batfam are a little more...I dunno, just things that a bit harder for me I guess, but even if I write just a sentence or two, I still count it as a win.

But like...I said something about a Sentinel / Guide Au, and even though I’m at what would be a good stopping point, I’m not very happy with it :/ So, if you’d like to see kind of what I’ve been doing, I’m going to throw down what I’ve got below the cut.

Warnings:

DickTim, Angst

Sentinel/Guide Au

After he brings B back from time, send the Dark Knight back to Gotham, he gives in to things long overdue, and trains with Shiva–

–to be an effective Guide.

Years of suppressants made it literally hell without them, trying to keep his shields up, trying to push out the telepathic traffic suffocating him the second he opens up just a crack.

Shiva, of course, had been her cheerfully murderous self, plying him with the full onslaught of a powerful Sentinel.

"You will be drawn to us from now on, Little Bird. You will want to protect us, bring us back from the abyss. If you choose to allow your powers as a Guide rein free, then you must learn to fight against the urges."

The fucked-up part is–

–she's right.

If he wants to stay in the life, wear the cape and cowl under the new name, go back to the Titans (since they've been looking for him again, fly-bys and searches for his tech), then he needs to learn how to deal with what he can do and how to deal with the instincts that come along for the ride.

It's not enough that Shiva is in the middle of hunting down a few former students ("They have made...the wrong choices."

"That's rich coming from you, you know."

"We all have a code, Little Bird, and I am no different.")

but they managed to run into a few other Sentinels along the way.

He'd like to say he'd taken his ass beating like a pro at this juncture in the vigilante game, but the reality is, they'd had to take shelter in a shitty lean-to, so he could be tragically, metaphysically hung-over.

He gives up the cowl and suit, utility belt and sundries. He goes as a wrecked teenage American boy, changing it up from the last time he trekked behind Lady Shiva and took on her adversaries. He tries not to think about Dick or Jason, Dami or Alfred, tries not to think about the confused look on B's face in his safe house, drying his hair after a long shower, trying to readjust to the current timeline.

("You aren't going back to Gotham?"

"I still have things to do."

"...there's something you aren't telling me."

"There's a lot I'm not telling you."

"Come to me when you're ready, Tim. No matter what, you're always going to be one of my Robins.")

Instead, he learns how to keep himself, and the Sentinels around him, safe and sane while trying to stay two steps ahead of the next fight, the next clue, the next "training."

In Shanghai a few months later, he knows it's time to move on when people part ways for the brightly clad superheroes coming en-masse down the packed street for him.

Well, moving on it is.

Going back to the Tower, away from the Bats and Gotham and the Rogue Gallery (thinking about facing the Joker this raw and open is fucking terrifying), was the best he was going to get considering the circumstances.

Those circumstances being the pointed twitch over Kon's eye and Bart's very intense gaze.

"You were supposed to call, asshole. The OG Batman has been back in Gotham for like months and you've just been, you know, chilling with Lady Shiva?"

Tim, who is so out of bullshit at this juncture, feels better after a hot shower and some old sweats with a Superboy t-shirt, throws up his fucking hands.

"All right, fine. I never told anyone. I...I've been on suppressants since I was a kid, just like my mom. Guides..."

"It's not that bad anymore!" Cassie tries helplessly, the first to actually reach across the table for his hand.

The instant connection makes them both gasp. It’s a shallow one, just a dip under her natural shield (he knows it’s Cissy, the Guide that’s been helping her until now, bringing her back whenever she hits a Zone, recognizes the touch of their Arrowette), just a skim over her immediate emotions this thing now untried and how utterly calm he makes her just by hands lightly placed.

"O-ooh," is soft while his fingers tighten, his eyes sharpen, his shields constructing around her, his instinct to protect.

"Not necessary," Gar chimes in, still leaning against the door between the kitchen and communal entertainment room, "we're all good in the Tower, T."

Is what shakes him out of it, hastily pulling away from Cassie's hand.

"Wow." Wonder Girl breathes out, eyes soft and half-mast, looking at him dreamily.

"Nope." Because he can already feel the headache coming on, how her hand tries to grab back at his.

“We could fight better together, Tim!”

“Do you even know how strong a Guide has to be to take care of four Sentinels?”

In one terribly creepy singular move, Bart, Kon, Gar, and Cassie give him that look.

You know, aimed at his face.

"No one," Bart cuts in, eyes wide at the exchange, of Tim's aura warm and inviting suddenly stronger, reaching out... "Tim, T. No one has to know."

The flash of fear, a residual from the tunic, makes him hedge back a subtle step back.

Kon pointedly grips him by the bicep, over his shirt while Bart moves enough that his shoulder bumps into Tim’s ribs, halting the possible escape attempt.

“Okay, okay, backing off. New powers are about a bitch, not like we all haven’t been there once or twice.” Kon soothes over, taking small steps and tugging until Tim is moving with him closer to the communal kitchen where his seat is empty at the island, and they can possibly get proof the guy actually eats.

“Amen,” Cassie throws up a hand and is already digging through the fridge until she finds–

–the last grape Zesti.

Tim’s eyes narrow dangerously on that singular can, his body moving before his brain can take over because he’s sliding on his old chair, the can cold against his fingers, too thirsty for caffeine that he can’t even.

Sure, it’s a trap, but with these guys, at least he knows it.

“I’m very not ready to do anything remotely Guide-like in the field,” the soft ca-saaaa as the can opens. “You want me to sleuth, fight, and strategize, then I’m all for it.”

Bart is just suddenly in Kon’s usual seat beside him, spinning around in tight, fast circles, “you mean you’re thinking about coming back? To the life?”

“Dude, that would be stellar.”

Tim side-eyes his besties, “it was never in the plan to-to stop.”

“Can’t blame us for assuming, you know,” Gar grins toothily, “no Red Robin for a while, my dude.”

Tim goes quiet, staring down at the can between his hands, shoulders hunched over.

“At least,” Raven’s voice is smooth and soft, comforting, “tell us why now, Tim?”

“Why now?”

“Why begin training as a Guide now?” She clarifies, sliding into the seat across from her, and the coolness of her aura, not a Sentinel, but something purely Raven puts his frayed nerves at ease, makes it easier for him to find the words.

“I turned 18,” and he can’t look at them while he admits to it, “and...and I figured out who my Sentinel is after Ra’s kicked me out the window.” (I was fine going out that way. It was fine. I was saving Wayne Enterprises from the League of Assassins, I was fighting the good fight. It shouldn’t have happened that way...why did it have to happen that way?)

“Oh,” and Cassie’s eyes get huge.

“Ra’s al Ghul is your Sentinel?!” Bart fairly screams.

“No dude,” Tim rolls his eyes and finds his can suddenly fascinating. “It’s...Dick. He’s...yeah. It’s him.”

“I didn’t hear that,” Kon hurries, standing shock-still, “I didn’t hear any of that.”

“Not him,” Bart is gritting his teeth because dammit, why couldn’t Tim have been his Guide? The universe was totally, wholly unfair.

A muscle in Tim’s jaw flexes, his nose pinkening along his upper cheekbones. He blinks watery eyes, takes a deep, deep breath to try and keep himself under control.

“Yeah,” and Tim sighs a little, the ache in his chest more acutely painful when he thinks about that moment waking up in the Cave, Dick in the Batsuit without the cape/cowl combo smiling down at him, still painfully unaware of the connection drawn tight between them.

(He doesn’t need me. He’s got Babs and Dami. His Guide and his Robin.)

Getting the absolute fuck out of the Manor had been his first order of business once he’d come to, just sprouting whatever placating bullshit Dick needed to hear to let him go without much of a fight (this time).

Finding Bruce and staying the hell out of Gotham hadn’t helped the pull he inexplicably felt, or the pressure of minds around him that had sent him to Shiva in the first damn place. His Guide abilities were overcoming the suppressants, so he was out of time...and out of options.

Still, even with the training, he occasionally has the dreams at night. Not the usual array of awful nightmares from his real life, Jason shooting him in the chest at point-blank to make sure the job gets done this time, Bruce dying right before his eyes, turning into that skeleton husk Superman brought to them thinking it was the real thing, Damian sneering at him with the katana held high, spitting out how it’s time the real Robin took his rightful place just before bringing the blade down–

No, no, it’s even worse than those.

It’s shadowy hands touching him, the warm wet of a mouth over his skin and scars, gentle voice in his ear telling him how beautiful he is, how much he’s needed, wanted, how it’s not just because of what he is or what tunic he used to wear, it’s all because he’s Tim. He doesn’t wake up when his dream self realizes it’s Dick over him, those blue eyes taking him in, pinning his wrists down to look over every inch of his naked body. He doesn’t wake up when Dick starts preparing him. He doesn’t wake up when Dick kisses him hard and desperate. He doesn’t wake up when the tears dry on his face and their bodies line up.

“Mine,” his dream Sentinel doesn’t even hesitate, “Don’t ever run from me again. Do you understand me, Tim?”

Just before Dick pushes, he wakes up, panting and hard, his instincts going crazy enough that he has to meditate to calm down.

Cassie gently wraps her hand around his shoulder, making sure they don’t have skin-to-skin contact this time. “I’m sorry,” she smiles gently at his frown, “I know you and Dick have had some...issues in the past few years.” But he can read the guilt in her face. Back when everyone thought Bruce was dead and his cape had been yanked out from under him, Dick had sent Cassie to try talking some “sense” into him. She still feels awful for jumping on the same train everyone else had been riding, the ‘that guy is suffering from depression’ instead of believing he might actually be right.

(It still stings though, doesn’t it?)

He doesn’t say anything back, just looks out one of the big windows and pulls out of her hold to take a drink of his Zesti.

“But,” Gar quickly jumps in, “you’ll stay in the Tower and fight on the team again, right? Like, no more trips with World’s Deadliest Assassins?”

Tim visibly hesitates, pausing with the can up to his mouth.

Slowly, he lowers it, his eyes taking on a cold calculation that is and isn’t like their old Rob. “Like I said, I can’t be a Guide for anyone, and I mean that. Second, I told you the truth in confidence, so I expect everyone to keep my secret. Third, I’m not anywhere near ready to go to Gotham or face the Bats, so for now, I’m fighting under the radar. If those aren’t acceptable stipulations, I’ll grab some of my clothes from storage and be out of your Tower.”

“Storage?” Kon glances around at the team, “Tim, buddy, why do you think we’d have your stuff in storage?”

“I assumed Dick would already approach you about making Damian part of the team,” his tone is absolutely empty, emotionless. “And there’s no way both of us could be here at the same time, so...” he lets them put it together from there.

The look of utter devastation on Kon’s face makes him feel slightly better.

Coming back when Cassie, Bart, and Kon have his back, just like they were closer to the end of their YJ run, makes the transition easier than it realistically should have been.

And it really might just be how low the dose of suppressants are now, or that he feels comfortable stepping into Robin’s role on the team, just with a different name, a different mask. It might just be how Bart has a tendency to hover with that hummingbird energy coming off him even when he’s seemingly standing still, maybe it’s Kon’s TTK pressing at his back even if the guy is across the room, maybe it’s how he and Cassie have leadership meetings where they just binge watch reruns of Gossip Girl and eat ice cream to bemoan their woes.

But maybe, it’s how he can feel them pulling at his shields unconsciously. Maybe it’s how he can sometimes push back enough, can skim just the edges to get impressions of angry, sad, depressed and gently erect a mental shield without delving deep without permission, can give them the space they need from their intense senses and powers.

Just another way he can be the regular guy on the team, working under the radar. So much a part of his role in the first damn place.

He doesn’t realize it becomes something normal until they take the good fight a little too close to Gotham for his liking, but the choices were few and Luthor is such an incredible ass hat that Tim actually plays it down, dresses up as CEO Tim Drake to divert their baddie while the team takes apart his latest weapon of mass destruction on the down-low.

What he absolutely doesn’t expect is to leave the lobby of one of the most posh restaurants in Metropolis–

And walk face-first into Dick Gryson’s chest.

(Technically, it’s Nightwing, but really, this doesn’t make the sitch any better.)

A hand, black with blue fingerstripes, covers his mouth, and the sound of a grapple retracting is a pending oh no that he doesn’t fight the vigilante pretty much kidnapping him off the street in broad daylight.

He can only thank God it isn’t skin-to-skin contact because his inner senses are flaring this close to the Sentinel, his Sentinel, that he has to grind his back teeth to keep himself in check. He pulls away the second they land it on solid rooftop, shoving his sleeve back to check the team’s status on his hidden wrist computer.

Mission success!

“Imagine my surprise,” Nightwing growls, hand on his shoulder to spin him around, “when I find you having lunch with someone like Lex Luthor instead of taking my damn calls, Timmy.”

Stepping out of that hold is subtle because Tim is looking over the side of the roof, adjusting his tie to try putting some distance between them. “I’m undercover. Those are the things people like us do when we’re running an Op, Nightwing.”

Those whiteouts narrow on him, a trick only Dick can really pull off effectively. “None of that tells me where the hell you’ve been for the last year since you left to find Bruce, found him, and didn’t come back.”

His back straightens, eyes looking away when the irritation and heat of anger hits him harder without the nice little cocktail of suppressants and stabilizers, makes his own shields tremble at the burning sear along the edges of his consciousness.

Instead of saying something he might come to regret, Tim sucks in a breath through his nose and works through the bolt of pain, gathers his shields around himself to keep the Sentinel from unerringly lashing out at him again.

“What the hell are you even doing here? Recon on Luthor? For which nefarious plot?”

A black and blue hand slashes the space between them, “not even important, Tim. So, how about you call your team and tell them you’ve got some Bat business because we? Need to talk.”

“I’m sorry, what now?”

“You heard me. I’ve been trying to get in contact with you for weeks.”

“I sent back your case files, asshole–”

“Not about cape and cowl shit, Tim!”

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about right now,” even though he does, he really does. He just doesn’t know why it has to happen now.

Nightwing, however, has had enough of the talk and with a whip of his arm has a bolo out and thrown, his natural speed as a Sentinel might be slower than someone like the Flash, but it still has Tim wrapped up tight faster than he can realistically dodge.

The sight of the vigilante Nightwing swinging through Metropolis with the CEO of Wayne Enterprises over one shoulder would be big news in the city if anyone had been bothered to really look up.

The hotel is nice Tim thinks while wiggling around on the bed where Dick pretty much dumped him. His fingers are already getting the bolo loose from around his upper body by the time Dick has the mask off and the Nightwing suit unzipped to flop around his waist.

The Gotham Knights t-shirt underneath is a new one since the old faded one got blown up in that little explosion in the ‘Haven a few years back.

Dick lifts and sets a chair down with a pointed clack, sitting down to watch Tim squirm his way up. He’s got the bolo loose enough to brace his palms.

“What part of I’m in the middle of an OP–”

“Don’t care,” Dick cuts him off ruthlessly, those blue eyes hard and jaw tense. “I honestly don’t give a crap about the Titans right now.”

“Well I sure as hell do thank-you very much,” Tim pulls the bolo off, tosses it across the room with an angry flick, facing his former mentor, former partner, former friend with those old feelings creeping up his throat to make the taste in his mouth coppery and bitter.

“The only thing I care about right now is that I finally caught up to you. The last time I even saw you was that swan dive–”

“I’m aware. Being kicked out of a window is pretty memorable, even for people like us,” he keeps it deadpan, keeps the anger and irritation, the feelings of shit like betrayal and it must have been so easy to throw me the fuck away.

“The point is, smart ass, you left the Cave and haven’t been back. You only answer my emails about cases and bad guys. But when I ask you to come back home, which I have, Tim, I don’t even know how many times, and I get nothing! We need you–”

“Why would I come back to Gotham for you?” Is what spills out of his mouth, something bitter and foul. “You’ve already got a fucking Robin to be your little brother, remember?”

Welp, there goes playing it cool.

But watching Dick jerk back like Tim had landed a physical blow was more satisfying than he wanted to admit.

“Are you kidding me right now? You’re still angry about that? I’ve explained to you exactly why–”

The irritation in Dick’s tone, obvious disgust when he leans back and crosses his arms over his chest is just about enough.

“You explained it just fine. You made your choice, so everyone just has to deal with it, right? Yeah, that’s really being my equal.”

Tim makes himself stay deadly calm and cold, moves his legs away from Dick’s to stand and take a few steps away from the seething Sentinel to adjust his tie and try to get his hands to quit trembling.

“I can’t believe you’re acting this childish, Tim. I’m really disappointed with you right now.”

“Glad we’re on the same page, Dick, disappointed in each other,” but it strikes him anyway in the small, sad place where he held on to the hope they could still work everything out somehow and at least go back to being friends. A small part that’s been slowly dying in degrees, and that last hit is enough to make it so absurdly painful.

(All those years in the R, fighting the good fight, being brothers, having each other’s backs, and it all ends here, doesn’t it?)

“What? I did everything I could do for you! I–”

“If that’s what you want to believe, then that’s fine. I don’t have any reasons to argue with you,” staring at his own reflection in the mirror, seeing the red start to creep over his cheeks, his eyes get overly shiny, Tim Drake straightens his spine and flexes his own shields.

He keeps himself together enough to turn on a heel and walk calmly to the door.

“Tim, just...okay, just wait. Let’s talk this out–”

He doesn’t even turn, hand already on the knob, just pulls open the door and takes a hasty step through. It’s only the first step, but Dick is still just suddenly there, trying to snatch at Tim’s wrist with a bare hand, managing the brush of fingertips over a pulse.

“Don’t leave like this,” Is the last thing Dick says before the electric shock slides up his spine, the pull to all his senses almost has him on his knees.

The touch has Tim lurching away, jerking his wrist up to cradle against his chest, the red burn of Dick’s emotions beating at his shields harder with just a simple graze.

It ends with Dick still in the doorway, braced against the frame, gaping, and Tim leaning heavily into the wall across the hall, a wince on his face.

Stupid metaphysical connections and shit.

The touch hadn’t been enough to, you know, like bond them or anything, but it’s widely believed True Pairs didn’t even have to touch to get impressions from one another.

“You asshole,” he seethes at that shocked expression.

“You feel like I betrayed you,” is low and thick, Dick’s eyes a little dazed with what he picked up through the momentary connection, “it hurt you so much when I made Dami my Robin because I didn’t even talk to you, I didn’t trust you. You think I just threw you out of my life. How could I ever do that to you...?”

If Tim was a better Guide, on a higher dose of suppressants, he would have been able to keep himself closed off enough that if they did manage to touch, he could have kept Dick out of his shields, wouldn’t have given him the ability to skim over shitty emotions.

If Tim was a better Guide, he wouldn’t have the urgent need to run.

But welp, here they are.

As the thought takes shape in his brain pan, that he’s in his civilian day-ware and can run down the hall while Dick –still half in Nightwing– is trapped in the doorway, his knees firm and his eyes dart wildly to the side, giving himself away.

And since Dick was Batman, is Nightwing, is a Sentinel, he sees the writing on the wall and absolutely refuses to let it happen. Dick shoves with his arms, darts out into the hallway, makes his suddenly weak knees work enough to shake up Tim’s plan, seizes the apparent Guide, his Guide, in a princess hold and get back before the door even starts to close.

“Put me–!”

But Dick folds his legs to sit with his back against the door, and wraps both arms around the struggling third Robin. He can hold onto Tim better than a bolo anyway.

The push at Tim’s shields is a pressure he isn’t used to dealing with, and it’s painful to fight against it rather than just let the tentative connection open. His hands curl into fists in his lap, trying to strain against the arms pinning him while concentrating on strengthening his shields.

He doesn’t realize he’s whispering, “no, no, no,” under his breath.

“Please,” Dick lays his forehead down on top of Timmy’s head, “please don’t go. Not now. I’m finally...Tim, I get it now. I swear, I get it.”

“...doesn’t matter. Too late.”

“That isn’t fair,” the smallest shift and Dick is breathing against his throat, making him shiver, “I just found out you’re...a Guide. My Guide. We haven’t even started yet. It can’t be too late if we haven’t had a beginning.” It gets worse when Dick breathes in his scent deeply, a noise coming out of his chest.

“We have had a beginning,” he bites out, fists tight, concentrating on keeping his shields strong but flexible, “we’ve had years–”

“And I’m not ready to throw all of that away.”

The pressure against his mental shields finally eases up as Dick raises his head, gives him a little shake to make him look up.

“You already did, remember?”

“I didn’t... I never threw you away. That’s not what I meant or wanted. Yes, I should have handled things better. I know that now, and I’m sorry I hurt you. I was sorry before, I just didn’t know how to tell you, how to make it better between us.”

Tim’s eyes narrow, and he doesn’t let up in case this is one of those diversionary tactics to put him in a false sense of security.

(They fight bad guys. Sometimes, they have to cheat, and he wouldn’t put it past Dick to do just that.)

“I don’t know what you think is going to happen here,” he finally tries, staring up into those blue, blue eyes (I trusted you once, and fuck if I’m going to let you do this to me again). “But whatever it is, you’re wrong. I’m not going to come back to Gotham and be your Guide. I’m not going to bond with you because the universe says I’m meant to be some kind of magical counterbalance.”

Dick’s expression crumples, his arms go a little slack.

“Tim, we’re...we’re a True–”

“I don’t give a fuck about True Pairs, Dick, not anymore. Babs has been your Guide since you both presented. She wants the job, she can damn well have it.”

It’s not a fight to push against Dick’s arms the second time and stand up out of his lap.

“You’ve loved me since the moment you put on the cape, Tim. I know you have.” When what he means is I know now.

“I loved you before that, you asshole, and you betrayed me. You don’t get that chance again.”

Turning away shouldn’t be this easy now that Dick knows the truth, but it is, and the very last parts of him still hoping, still craving, are just as easily–

–wiped out.

Dick’s eyes are watery when the door hisses and creaks upon opening, and it’s an automatic thing, reaching a hand up just expecting Tim to take it.

“Tim. Timmy, please.”

“Good-bye, Dick,” is already fading with rapidly retreating footsteps. At least he can keep some of his dignity because Dick will never know he falls the fuck apart as the elevator goes down.

Author’s notes:Here’s why I don’t like this: 1. I want to talk more about why Tim chose Shiva as the Sentinel to teach him how to be a good Guide. Like, I want to explore that dynamic more because I’ve never really had the time or space to write Shiva as we see her in Tim’s Robin run.2. I wanted to go more into the expanded senses of Sentinels and how to - hell, I dunno, make it seem to be a little closer to cannon maybe? Like point out some of Dick’s greatest escapes and be like part of that is due to his Sentinel power. 3. Dick says some shitty things, and I don’t give him any context. Like, at that point, he legit believes he did the right thing at the time, and look! Tim’s Red Robin so everyone wins! But yeah, once he got under those shields, the truth shakes him up. 4. I dunno, this au might not be for me. It doesn’t feel very different from some of my other angsty things I guess but meh. Who knows, I might fix it someday :D

#winter answers #with angst #and frustration #sentinel!au #Tim Drake #Dick Grayson #the titans!#my fics #my writing

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mickmarstookmyheart · 4 years

Text

Not that Old

Pairing: Chubby!Reader X Mick Mars

Requested on Wattpad

Remember that requests for Mick are open!

(babies, just look at them)

You were just dreaming of your favorite band of all time when you heard a knock on your door. You groaned and managed to sit on the edge of the bed when you heard another knock this time a bit louder.

"Be there! Fuck." You walked to the door and opened it.

"(Y/N)!!!" One of your best friends, Hanna, yelled making you deaf. She hugged you tight and walked into your apartment.

"Sorry about her. You know how is she with birthdays." Amanda sighed glancing at you. "Happy birthday, (Y/N)!"

"Thank you, Amanda! To be honest, I didn't even remember it when I woke up." You giggled closing the door and letting your calmer bestie in the house. Hanna was already decorating your small living room.

"So where we are going to tonight?" Hanna asked eagerly still bothering with a 'Happy Birthday Girl' paper decoration.

"Can't we just stay here and have a girls' night or something?" Parties and clubs weren't your things. You loved listening to rock music, but your friends weren't fond of it.

"No, (Y/N)! You need to go to a real party sometime! Anyway, we already know where we are going, I just wanted to pretend if I was polite." She laughed heading to your bedroom and gesturing to follow her. You and Amanda shared a look and made your ways towards your bedroom.

"Don't worry, you will love it." Amanda took your hand and squeezed it and gave you an encouraging smile. This made you a bit relieved. She was a truly honest person and she knew your taste in almost everything...even if it was about boys. When you entered the room, Hanna was already throwing clothes out from your closet.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

"Just choosing the perfect dress for the night."

"Why can't I decide what to wear?"

"Cause you would choose a boring black trouser with a band merch which you always wear!"

"And what's your problem with that?" You asked adjusting your large wireframe glasses on the top of your nose. The blood froze in your veins when Hanna was holding a tight black dress in her hands smiling.

"Hanna, I don't think (Y/N) would be happy in that. Remember that she needs to be happy on her birthday." Amanda said in a calm tone. She always got your back. You loved both of them but Amanda understood you better. Hanna put the dress back while making a face and started searching again.

"Then, there is nothing here!" She pouted. "Wait, I think there is hope!" She grabbed your black leather pants and showed it to you. You had a mix of emotions for that piece of clothing. You would kill for pants like that but you didn't have the guts to wear it.

"Umm, I don't know." You rubbed the back of your head.

"(Y/N), it's perfect, believe me!" Amanda said admiring your pants. "Go put it on."

You still hesitated.

"You heard Amanda. If she says it's perfect then it's hella perfect!" Hanna handed the pants and a black shirt to you and sat down on your bed while you went to your bathroom to change. "Maybe, these leather pants aren't that bad." You thought when you saw yourself in the mirror adjusting it.

∆

"Come on, (Y/N), we are almost there!" Hanna was already a bit tipsy. She was dragging you towards the surprise place.

"You know I don't like surprises!" You yelled.

"You will like this one, just trust me!" Hanna added. When you turned at the corner you gulped. No, this can't be. You felt the excitement of recognizing the area. From a hundred meters you could see the familiar place. There was already a huge crowd in front of the club queueing in a line.

"No way! I can't believe you brought me here!" You cheered, the brightest smile on your face.

"We told you you will love it." Amanda pushed you playfully by the shoulder. "And have you seen who will play tonight?" You took a glance. Your mouth dropped when you saw the name. The name of the band which was now your life. Mötley Crüe.

"Omg!" You cursed. "I can't believe you managed to arrange this!"

"Anything for you, (Y/N)! You deserve it!" Amanda said with a smile.

"And the rest is just in the corner," Hanna added with a devilish smile on her face.

When you were finally in the facility you headed towards the bar to get some booze.

"We are okay here." You said gripping your bottle.

"Are you kidding, right? I can't even see the stage from here, then how I supposed to see that bass player's beautiful face?" Hanna pouted pulling your hand towards the first rows.

"At least can I choose the side?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Then, I will stay here, on this side.." You announced.

"That old man's side?" Hanna asked.

"Don't dare to call him old! And yes, I will stay here and watch him play those badass riffs of his." Hanna's answer was a shrug.

When Nikki and the others stood on the stage the whole crowd screamed and cheered for the band. When Mick came up on the stage, you froze. He was dressed in black, even his guitar was black except for those yellow stamps on it. His raven hair slightly flew in the air during those guitar solos and riffs. There were moments when you felt he was right staring at you, but you were sure he was looking at someone else. Why would he look at you, anyway?

∆

"Wow, (Y/N), you need to bring us more to this band's concert! Why haven't you tell about them yet?" Hanna asked still under the effect of the concert and the whole show.

"I have already told you, you just didn't listen as usual." You murmured sipping from your beer. "Which song did you like the most?"

"Hmmm, I can't remember any title but those beautiful eyes being the puff of hair of the bass player." If it was possible, Hanna would've had hearts instead of eyes.

"You didn't disappoint me." You muttered.

"I quite liked Starry Eyes, Take me to the Top and Live Wire," Amanda added remembering back to those songs. "And those riffs were truly extremely good."

"Indeed they were." You were happy that someone also paid attention to the songs and not just the boys' appearance.

"If you had the chance whom would you kiss?" Hanna asked while you almost choked on your drink.

"Hanna, you passed a line." Amanda snapped.

"What? It was just a harmless question!"

"Well, it's not gonna even happen...so I would kiss Tommy," Amanda added imagining kissing the drummer.

"I thought you would choose the singer."

"I'm not into blondies. Okay, so Hanna has already made us clear she would choose Nikki, what about you, (Y/N)."

You hesitated. They already thought that Mick was an old man, while he looked sweet and caring. And his eyes. Damn.

"(Y/N)!" Hanna's yell brought you back to reality from your daydream.

"Sorry. Well, I think Mick." You admitted.

"Really?" Hanna raised one of her eyebrows.

"Hey, he looks good, too and you know (Y/N) is into creepy, weird guys!" Amanda said. You didn't know if you should thank her or just hit her in the arm for that last statement.

∆

After the concert, you and your friends were just sitting at some tables. Some guys tried to join in but Hanna always rejected saying you have other plans for the night. You didn't like surprises and Hanna had crazy ideas sometimes.

"Are you ready?" Amanda asked looking at you. Due to the amount of alcohol she started to act like Hanna which you didn't like. Who will stop Hanna from doing senseless actions?

"To go home?" You had high hopes.

"No, you silly. For your birthday present." Amanda giggled taking your hand and helping you get up from your seat.

"I don't know. I'm not so sure." You bit down your lip waiting for the disaster. When you walked beside the stage you stop in front of the backstage door. A giant guard stood there who was twice as tall as you.

"Um, hello, sir. I...we have the arrangement to get backstage. I have talked to Doc...Doc McGhee and he said yes. To us..meet the boys." Hanna was a bit tipsy now. The guard still didn't move.

"Okay, listen here you giant. This girl right here celebrates her birthday today so don't ruin it. She fucking deserves to meet those guys there inside." Hanna crossed her arms and sent death glares at the guard. His answer was just a growl and a stare.

"It's okay, Hanna. We have already seen the guys. It's not necessary to get ourselves killed by some big guy." You said holding back your friend.

"Hey, Chuck, let them in. They look harmless and we could use a company." Vince appeared and gazed at all of you. The guard, Chuck opened the door and let you in.

"Thank you. It was kind of you." Amanda said.

"I heard that one of you have a birthday today so I thought why not? Anyway, I'm Vince." He smirked and guided to the room where the others were.

"I'm Amanda, she is Hanna and the birthday girl is (Y/N)." She introduced all of you.

"Happy birthday, (Y/N)!" Vince turned back for a moment and gave you a big smile. You were just looking down and adjust your glasses.

"Thank you." You said shyly.

"Hey, Everyone, I brought some company!" Vince yelled as soon as you arrived in the room. Nikki, Tommy immediately looked up and smirked looking over you and your friends. You were looking over Mick who was drinking and he also slowly lift his head. When he looked into your eyes you felt your face burn and your heart race.

"That girl has a birthday today so let's have a big party!" Vince said pointing at you.

∆

Well, not the best birthday present you had. The girl ditched you, Amanda was flirting with Tommy and Hanna sitting close to Nikki. She whispered something in his ear which made him smirk. Vince was busy with his blond girlfriend and Mick was away. He said he had something to do and left an hour ago. You were sitting in the corner of the room on the couch and was looking everywhere but your 'friends'. Cool friends. You were jealous how easily they could flirt with boys but it was so much easier for them. They were skinny and had a model look.

"Have I missed the party?" Mick stood down beside making you jump. You didn't notice him returning. "Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"Nah, it's okay." You tensed but tried to breathe properly. "And don't worry, you didn't miss anything."

"I see. Well, I brought some beers for you and a little surprise." Mick said searching in the paper bag he brought with himself. You gulped. Did Mick bring you a surprise?

"Oh, you didn't have to." You said shyly.

"I did. You have a birthday and there is no birthday without some candy, is it?" He gave you a little smile. He put a little cupcake on the table and a candle. He lights the candle and handed it to you. You felt tears in your eyes from happiness. You took the cupcake in your shaking hand and blew it after wishing.

∆

"So they are your friends?" Mick asked after you and he was the only one who was in the room.

"Yeah."

"Are you mad at them? Because I can help you revenge if you want. Ditching you like this for those idiots was quite rude if you ask me. Especially, on your birthday." Mick said gazing at you.

"They aren't that bad. They brought me here after all and they can be kind, too. They come here just for me." You played with the package of the cupcake. "They aren't into this kind of music." You sighed.

"And what about you? Did you like the concert?"

"Definitely! It was awesome! I have already been to one of your concerts, but this was the best one so far! You become better and better, guys." Fangirling took all over on you again and you realized it. "Sorry, if I talk too much."

"Hey, I asked you so feel free. You know, I'm not the talkative one." He chuckled and rubbed the back of his head. You almost melted from that smile and can't help but smiled, too.

"Thank you for keeping me company. And for the cake."

"It's nothing. You are kind and you deserved it. Moreover, your music taste is pretty good." He added making you giggle. He liked making you laugh. He adored your beautiful eyes behind your adorable glasses and your personality. He knew he wasn't able to know you fully during this short time but he wanted to. "Umm, (Y/N), would you like to meet again?"

You felt the blood froze in your veins and the smile immediately faded.

"I'm sorry?" You were sure you just misunderstood it.

"I would like to know you better. And you to have someone you can rely on and have a talk whenever you want cause your 'friends' clearly aren't capable of that." He was angry. You were speechless. You were in shock. "They don't deserve you."

"I don't really know what to say." You loved your friends, though they can be a pain in the ass sometimes. And why don't be friends with your favorite musician? It would be a dream. "I would like to know you better, too, Mick. You seem kind and generous. And you look good, too." It wasn't your intention to confess. Damn, that beer.

"Why would you say that? I'm an old man." He scoffed flinching.

"Have you seen me?" You snapped. It wasn't fair what he was thinking. He wasn't that old and he was so much prettier than the other boys.

"You are young. And far more beautiful than me."

"You are not old, Mick. Yes, the boys are younger than you but that doesn't you are old. And believe me, you are handsome." Your face was now crimson red and it was burning.

"Then you have to believe that you are gorgeous, too. Being skinny doesn't mean beauty. Everyone is beautiful in their way. And if other men don't realize it, then they are blind."

You smiled at him and still couldn't believe those things Mick has just said. In the morning you were just staring at him on the poster in your room now you were face-to-face and was complimenting each other. That's what you call improvement!

"This might sound weird but can I hug you?" You asked worryingly.

"Of course!" He leaned closer and hugged you tightly. You put your chin on his shoulder and filled your lungs with his scent.

"Thank you so much. For everything."

"Me, too, (Y/N). Me, too."

Tags: @leatherandheels @littlemisscare-all @karrotkate ❤️

#motley crue #nikki sixx #rocknroll #glam rock #tommy lee #vince neil #80srock #mick mars #80s music #mick mars x reader #mick mars imagine #motley crue x reader #motley crue imagine

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ks-caster · 4 years

Text

The 100 Season 7 Episode 4 - Post-Liveblog Recap

Okay, so I liveblogged an episode for the first time - and it turned out to be a nice way to stay focused through the commercial breaks. Might continue to do that for the rest of the season.

But TBH I started doing it just so I could bitch about the CLEAR AND BLATANT LACK OF A SCENE WHERE SANCTUM!KRU REALIZE THAT BELLAMY AND ANOMOLY!KRU ARE MISSING. That was an important scene that the whole fandom, more or less, has been waiting for the entire time for various reasons.

How do the characters react? Who figures out that something’s wrong first? Does Clarke sense Bellamy’s absence because they have a bond? Does Emori go looking for her space sister to comfort her other space sister only to find her missing?

(Actually, she does. That’s my headcanon and I’m sticking to it. Might fic later. Accounts for Emori’s complete absence while her bestie Raven is falling apart.)

Edit: here's the fic!

Anyway, back to the episode - whoever was in charge of editing really really dropped the ball. Missing realization scene, poorly ordered Raven and Clarke scenes. The music during the Dev-and-Hope montage was a nice touch but just too loud enough that I really had trouble telling what they were saying - and the pacing would have felt better with just one show of teenage!Hope before we got 20-year-old her. The cut from Orlando agreeing to train Anomaly!Kru to 5 years later was WAY too abrupt for me to get a feel for the character and relationship development that they were trying to shoehorn in in order to create conflict at the end. I got where they were going with everything, but in a I’m-reading-a-newbie-writer’s-fanfic-because-I-love-the-story-concept-and-want-to-support-them kind of way and not in a I’m-watching-a-show-made-by-experienced-professionals-and-paying-for-the-privilege-in-ad-revenue kind of way. Disappointing.

Jumping around here for a bit: I gotta say I’m loving the makeovers this season! Hair and makeup did a great job on bringing back the old Raven without losing the maturity they gave her, giving Murphy and Emori their Gucci Royalty Vibes without losing the feel of their individual styles, and making Hope look like she can’t find quite the balance between feral forest girl and innocent shut-in who can’t bear to take a life (which is accurate to her character, of course).

And Echo! So I really, really didn’t like her makeovers in seasons 5 and especially 6, because it felt like they were trying too hard to make her look pretty in a 21st Century kind of way. She looked softer, more vulnerable, which really contradicted her character traits - but I thought that might’ve been on purpose, to show a change in her (that she did indeed allow herself to become softer and more vulnerable for her family). And her post-time-skip (not that one. Or that one. The other one. There’s a lot of those. Bah.) look feels like a return to herself; she’s beautiful but in a no-nonsense, don’t-forget-I-can-cut-your-throat kind of way. (Is this because I just really love the butch look on woman and am myself a butch woman? Maybe. But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.)

Side note: Where the hell did they get clippers on Penance? Those haircuts were entirely too even to have been done with scissors. I’ll buy that Gabriel and Orlando shaved their heads and their perfect round cuts were growout, but Hope and Echo? Electric clippers. Like I said I like the looks, but guys, there’s no way.

I liked that I got a better feel for Hope’s character this episode - she’s trying so hard to be like her mom and Aunty O and all the heroes they told her about when she was a child, but the truth is she’s been in one real battle, she froze, and her best and only friend died. And since her only role models were these incredibly strong people who didn’t give up, back down, hesitate, that wouldn’t be an easy thing for her to get over. (Given that Diyoza was pregnant with her for two entire seasons, I’d really like to have more time developing Hope’s character - or even the same amount of screen time but go easier on the timeskips, lol. She keeps having growth/maturity/life experience spurts so it’s hard to keep up with the development that we’re shown.

So, 5 (7? Wasn’t she 22? There’s still 2 years we missed right?) years after watching her friend die, and 5 (7?) years of blaming herself for freezing, she’s put into the same position, and she stabs some lady in the neck. Kid didn’t steal her coping mechanisms! All joking aside thought, the kid basically relived her trauma in real life - honestly her reaction was 100% valid.

I’m sure I’m supposed to be upset by Echo’s choice to kill the remaining gold-head people. But I think the only reason that’s supposed to bother me is that she promised (ish - she was real explicitly clear that she’d do what was necessary to rescue Bellamy and them were the breaks) Orlando that she wouldn’t. I think I’m supposed to care about the fractured relationship between AnomalyKru and Orlando.

I don’t. I don’t know if it’s the super-fast timeskip (it was weird enough to see the changed dynamics in SpaceKru when I deeply knew all of the characters AND we got time to see the changes play out) or the fact that I didn’t really get to know Orlando in a way that made me super sympathetic to him (I’ll get to that in a minute) or if it’s just that he was smart enough to know he was being played from the start (see Navy SEAL mom didn’t teach you how to swim and Echo again being 100% clear that killing people might still happen) and walked right in anyway. Either way, his betrayal wasn’t enough of a motivator for me as an audience member to be bothered about how things ended between him and AnomalyKru. I kind of shrugged and moved on.

More on Orlando... So The 100 has had several plotlines that center around people doing dangerous, terrible and downright ridiculous things because of their religions; see the kidnapping and conclave of freaking children killing each other to become commander, Gaia’s whole character arc + starting a new religion around Octavia/WonKru betraying that religion to go back to their old one centering on Madi, WHO IS GODDAMN TWELVE, all of Sanctum and season 6, the Sanctum conflict here in season 7, and now this goddamn Bardo Disciple shite.

Now I’m not dishing on real life religion or religious people - I happen to have one of those myself - but the plot of some-people-take-their-religion-way-too-far-drink-the-koolaid-and-hurt-people-around-them has been done and done and done on this show. And now here we have Orlando, who was a high-ranking member of his religion, drank the koolaid, cast out, still a true believer and therefore dangerous because his perspective is fundamentally skewed. I don’t know anything about this religion but that it’s militarized (they can arrest people) and think that sentencing people to 10 years of madness-inducing Geneva Convention violations and then bringing them back to their families two days later is okay. I don’t really want to know anything else, because I’m worried that the show is going to work hard on making this religion scarier than the Sanctum one (needing to one-up themselves with the big bad, of course) which just keeps making the commander religion look humane in comparison.

Which it wasn’t. But I digress.

So Orlando was kinda’ cool, but getting in too deep with a fundamentalist who was complicit in his own abuse by said religion (and so who knows what he thought was okay to do to other people) and then it ended badly.

Cue shocked Pikachu.

Moving on. Clarke. Baby. After the harrowing experience of the radiation destroying the radio so you couldn’t say goodbye to your mom when you were supposed to go to space, then missing your time window and getting left behind on Earth, and the radio broke them too so you couldn’t even be sure your friends would leave in time until they blasted off, and then calling Bellamy every day when you knew he couldn’t hear you, and ALL OF THE FREAKING LAST SEASON WHERE YOU WERE POSSESSED AND WOULD HAVE GIVEN ANYTHING TO LET YOUR FRIENDS AND DAUGHTER KNOW BOTH THAT THAT WASN’T YOU AND THEN LATER THAT YOU WERE ALIVE and THEN your MOTHER getting possessed and you had to check to see if it was really her and it WASN’T. Clarke.

After all that terrifying inability to communicate.

You leave Gaia behind to warn everyone of the danger. INSTEAD OF CALLING THEM ON A PIECE OF HANDY TECHNOLOGY OR TAKING A QUICK TRIP BACK YOURSELF. TO TELL YOUR DAUGHTER WHERE YOU WERE GOING. YOU DON’T THINK THAT MAYBE MAKING EXTRA SURE THAT EVERYTHING GETS COMMUNICATED CLEARLY AND IMMEDIATELY MIGHT BE A PRIORITY.

And then Gaia gets kidnapped. Honestly, cool! Not ‘cause I’m rooting for Gaia to be hurt (I don’t care all that much about her tbh) but I LOVE Indra and I want her to have more screen time and development this season - and or the chance to cut people up with her sword - and kidnapping her daughter seems like a great way to facilitate that.

*Looks at list* Oh, right, Jordan. I forgot you were here. Honestly I can’t figure out what the fuck is going on with you, and since I’ve had a whole season of not connecting with you because the story was too busy focusing on external plot... I don’t see that changing any time soon buddy. Sorry.

Oh and that FrEaKiNg PrOmO!

My garbage boy! My chaos gremlin! My excellent-at-impersonating-a-deity-even-if-it-goes-against-his-programming! What are they doing?!

I’m torn between NO DON’T HURT HIM and YES HURT HIM BECAUSE CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT AND BRAVERY BWAHAHAHA. At least I know there’ll be Murphy and hopefully Memori content in the next episode. That’s the good shit. It’s the only thing left about this show that still feels “pure,” not that I didn’t know what sort of darkness I was signing up for when I started but just because he and Emori are sort of the last light in the darkness, and it’s nice to get a break periodically.

21 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

Galactica, Chapter 28 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Since we have about 200 or so chapters to go, I’m gonna stop pretending that I have anything important to say in these author’s notes. Love you all though! Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Adore still failed to get Pearl’s attention, Sutan and Violet reconnected, and Trixie and Katya announced their engagement.

This Chapter: Paris fashion week continues with a spark of hope, an injury, and a well-timed present.

***

“Ugh!”

All Adore wanted was to reach her best friend and tell her the amazing news she had, but of course, Courtney wasn’t answering. She’d sent a bunch of text messages, tried her personal cell twice and her work cell four times. She knew it was business hours in New York, but so what? She needed to talk, and they were supposed to be ride or die besties.

Adore knew there was one surefire way to reach her, though, so she smirked to herself, calling Fame’s office line--through the hotel, so her own number wouldn’t come up on the caller ID.

“Miss Fame’s office.”

Adore affected her best French accent and said, “Hello, I have Madame Delano from French Vogue for Ms. Courtney Jenek.”

“Speaking.”

“Courtney, you fucktard, it’s me!” Adore laughed, flopping backwards onto her hotel bed. Bianca had booked them a suite, and she was deeply enjoying herself so far, wrapped in a spa robe, gorging herself on champagne and a huge room service seafood platter.

“Oh god, sorry. It’s been a day,” Courtney said, finally dropping her pretentious work voice and sounding more like herself. “How’s France?”

“C’est bon, mais oui!” Adore said, making her friend giggle. “Actually, I’m calling you because I have something amazing to report. But if you’re too busy, then-”

“For you? Never!” Courtney assured her. “I mean, sure, I have about a hundred things that Violet said I need to get done in the next ten minutes, but...eh, it can wait. What’s up?”

“That’s my girl!” Adore grinning, settling back against her pillows and dipping a shrimp into some very delicious mystery sauce. “Okay, so, I was kind of bummed last night because I saw Pearl but she like, didn’t say hi or anything, and so I thought maybe she just wasn’t interested anymore, you know? And even this morning, I couldn’t get a read on her. But then…”

Adore paused dramatically, popping the shrimp into her mouth.

“Then...? What happened?!” Courtney exclaimed.

“We were at this dumb fashion show, a super boring one for like Celine or something, and it was just like, suit suit suit suit...and I literally almost fell asleep, but then afterwards, I’m just standing at the bar with a drink, and guess who came up behind me?”

“I want to say Pearl, but that seems so obvious.”

“Yes! Pearl! She came up to me, and she was so funny, all ‘what are you even doing here? You’re way too cool for this shit.’”

“I mean, she’s right.”

“And the way she like, said it in this low voice right in my ear. I got all tingly and lightheaded and I almost just swooned right into her arms.”

“Oh my god.”

“Yeah, so then I turned around and it was like those movies where the music swells and everything slows down and ugh, she’s so hot, I cannot take it,” Adore rolled over, hugging a pillow to her chest, the memory of Pearl’s scent still clinging to her skin.

“What did you say?”

“I was like…” Adore took a deep breath, trying to do her best impression of the sexy voice she’d used earlier, “Oh, you think you know me, huh? You have no idea…”

“Stop it, you did not!”

“I did! And then she was like, ‘will i see you later at-”

“Shit! Shit shit shit!”

“What? What’s wrong?” Adore sat up, slightly annoyed that her story had been interrupted, but also concerned for her friend.

“I just spilled tea all over the...I gotta go, Adore, sorry.”

“Oh. But I still haven’t told you about the-”

“I’ll call you later! Love you!”

Adore glared at her phone as the line went dead. “Rude.”

***

Violet hurried behind Fame and Raja, on their way to a cocktail party. She knew that Fame had barely eaten any lunch, and that her dinner tonight wasn’t for another three hours, so when Fame held out a hand to her wordlessly, Violet knew exactly what she wanted. She fished the raw coconut date ball, Fame’s favorite snack for when her blood sugar dipped, out of her purse, even quickly opening the package before placing it in her boss’s hand.

“That show was something, wasn’t it?” Fame asked, and Raja chuckled.

“I know it makes me a terrible person--” Raja shook her head at Fame, who was offering her a piece of the snack. “--But I love watching a model take a proper dive off stage-”

“Raj!” Fame squealed, hitting her arm, hiding her mouth so no one could see her chewing. “Don’t make me choke on my dinner.”

They had just finished watching the Giambattista Valli show, Violet standing against the wall with all the other assistants.

“What happened to that poor girl was terrible.” Fame huffed. She was in bright white, her red Valentino bag the only pop of color, the accessories matched perfectly to her lipstick.

“Absolutely horrible-” Raja smirked, everything about her radiating confidence as she walked down the street. “A true tragedy.”

“Karma will get you for this.”

Violet knew that Raja and Fame could bicker for hours, but they were cut off as they had finally made it to the historically old building where the evening’s cocktail hour was held. Violet didn’t wait, simply holding her arms out to take Fame’s coat, Raja followed suit, dumping them in Violet’s hands before they both disappeared.

Violet nodded at the coat check girl, carefully putting the numbers in the zipped part of her purse. She had never lost anything of Fame’s, and she wasn’t about to start in Paris of all places.

***

“TanTan!”

Raja spun around at the sound of a familiar voice calling her brother’s name.

“What the-” Sutan stood up straight.

Raja looked out over the crowd, fashion faces all around them. The cocktail party had been going for well over an hour, small oases set up for lounging around, which Raja took full advantage of.

“Tan!”

Raja had always prided herself at being able to keep a calm head in any situation, but as soon as she spotted her fiancée, she felt her stomach clench.

“Raven?”

Raven was hobbling towards them, her fiance’s long black hair spilling down her back. She was in a black corset top, her neck adored with the emerald necklace Raja had so lovingly put on her that very morning.

As soon as their eyes met, though, Raven’s icy demeanor shattered, her face crumbling as she reached for her. It had been one of the first things Raja had noticed about Raven, was how indifferent she was, how difficult she was to impress. It was what had made her stand out like a shining beacon in a sea of beauty.

This wasn’t good, this wasn’t good at all.

“Oh Raja!”

Raja answered instantly, rushing to her side, not even noticing that Fame and Violet had returned to their table, her twin right behind her.

“What happened?” Sutan flanked Raven right away, blocking both of them from view.

“My shoe broke-” Raven was shaky, and if Raja didn’t know any better, it almost sounded like she was about to cry, but that couldn’t be right. She put a protective arm around her fiancée, and Raven instantly leaned against her, letting her take her weight.

“Is everything alright?” Violet showed up behind Sutan, and while Raja didn’t have anything against her, she really didn’t want anyone she didn’t completely trust around right now.

“I think my ankle-” Raven gestured vaguely, and Raja looked down for the first time. Raven’s foot was visibly swollen, her golden Jimmy Choo missing it’s heel.

“Fuck.” Sutan crouched down, Violet’s hand coming to rest on his shoulder. “I have to make calls, if I’m lucky Jaslene can substitut-”

“NO!” Raven cried out. “No, don’t-”

Raja wanted to say something, wanted to butt in, but she didn’t know what to do. It was clear that Raven couldn’t walk a runway with a broken foot, and as a former model herself Raja knew just how much trouble there would be if Raven couldn’t honor her booking.

“Raven,” Sutan reached out, touching her shoe, and Raven immediately winched.

“Don’t touch it!”

“If I can’t touch it, how can you possibly think I’ll let you walk?” Sutan bristled, irritation clear on his face.

“I need to walk tomorrow!”

Sutan touched her foot again, and Raven yelped, gritting her teeth through the pain.

[Let’s get her down.] Raja looked at her twin, and Sutan nodded. Raven allowed Raja to escort her to a nearby sofa, sitting down heavily and moaning, “What am I going to do?!”

“Let me take a look.”

Raja turned, surprised to see Violet standing there with a big glass of ice and her purse. She hadn’t even noticed her leaving, but she couldn’t help but be impressed with her foresight.

“Please-” Raven gestured to her foot, and Violet crouched down, Sutan sitting down next to Raja.

“Holy shit…”

Raja looked at her brother, his mouth hanging slightly open, his arms crossed as he was staring directly at Violet.

“I know you’re scared,” Violet ever so gently took Raven’s shoe off, and Raja barely managed to hide her reaction to the ugly purplish bruise that was forming on her foot, “and I know you’re in a lot of pain, but I need you to be strong and I need you to be quiet.”

“I can do that.” Raven nodded.

“Sutan, give me your handkerchief.”

Violet held her hand out, and Sutan accommodated her immediately, handing her the fabric which Violet used to wrap the ice she fished out of the glass. Violet held it in place on Raven’s foot, even as she gasped, burying her face against Raja’s shoulder.

“Are you okay, princess?” Raja whispered.

“No.”

“We’ll take good care of you, baby, don’t worry.” Raja pressed a kiss against Raven’s hair, the lush locks smelling faintly like orange blossom, and Raja couldn’t help but think back to that very morning where she’d been exploring damp and slick shower-fresh skin.

“Raven,” Violet said, trying to get the girl to focus on something other than her ankle. “Did you hear that Cordelia took a stage dive at the Giambattista Valli show?”

“Quelle tragique,” Raven said, turning her face towards Violet, a hint of a smile pulling at her lips. “Poor little lamb.”

Raja couldn’t help but be impressed with Violet’s ability to divert her attention from the pain so quickly.

“Who are you walking for tomorrow?” Violet asked, and soon Raven was chatting away, telling Violet all about her plans for the rest of the week. After a few minutes of icing her ankle, Violet removed the kerchief and examined the bruise, nodding to herself before pulling a roll of white tape out of her purse.

“Have you been carrying that all day?” Sutan looked surprised, his voice filled with a sense of wonder Raja rarely ever heard from him.

“Perhaps.” Violet smiled, and Raja snorted, watching as Violet expertly opened the roll.

“Is it gonna hurt?” Raven asked, nails digging into Raja’s hand.

“Yes,” Violet admitted, her tone flat, like she was simply stating the obvious. “But if you want to walk tomorrow-”

“I do, I do!”

“Good.” Violet began wrapping Raven’s ankle, briefly catching Raja’s eyes, nodding her head slightly, clearly trying to tell her she needed to distract Raven.

Raja did her best, but it was impossible to concentrate when Raven let out whimpers of pain, and she ended up just stroking her hair gently while the brunette worked away. Finally, the whimpers began to fade.

“Your toes are okay,” Violet proclaimed. “It’s not broken, and I don’t even think it’s a sprain. You’ll be able to walk just fine.”

Raja breathed out a sigh of relief, only now noticing that Violet’s Dolce & Gabbana dress was touching the floor, but it didn’t look like it bothered the young woman at all that her clothes were getting dirty.

“You’re tough, Raven. You and I, we get it done because we have to, and you can do this. Let’s test it.”

Violet had finished wrapping Raven’s foot, and grabbed Raven’s hands, helping the other woman up as she carefully put pressure on her foot, not screaming in pain.

“You should keep it elevated, and continue icing it as much as possible, but not more than fifteen minutes at a time-”

“Oh my god, Violet, I love you…I really fucking do!” Raven exclaimed.

“It’s not that much-“

“No. Seriously, you have just earned yourself a best friend for life.” Raven pulled Violet in for a tight embrace before sitting back down, allowing Violet to refill the handkerchief with a fresh batch of ice.

“Don’t mention it.”

***

Pearl was standing outside of the hotel, being unreasonably slow as she lit her cigarette, doing her very best to drag it out for as long as possible.

She had put on one of her very best outfits, her ass looking like sin in the black leather pants she had struggled to get into, the fabric practically painted on.

Pearl knew that Fame was leaving the hotel at 9.45 sharp, and that Violet was always 10 minute early.

She hadn’t fully figured out yet exactly how she’d get Violet to talk to her, but she knew that she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her, the sensation of Violet’s fingers on her skin still there.

Pearl was aware that she hadn’t acted her best, and while she didn’t initially agree that it was fair that Violet had freaked out about her kissing another girl at the Vogue party, Pearl had been able to find it in herself to forgive her.

“Oh-”

Pearl turned, a smile blooming on her face as she saw Violet, who had just exited the building. She was beautiful in the morning light, her dress of the day showing off her collarbones and the barest swell of her breasts perfectly.

“Good morning, Pearl.”

Violet smiled, and Pearl smiled back, the easiness on Violet’s face filling her with warmth.

There was no way she’d be happy without making this gorgeous girl hers, and when Pearl Liaison decided she wanted something, she got it.

“Morning pumpkin.”

Violet didn’t flinch, didn’t look annoyed at the nickname, and Pearl could swear they were back to the good old days. Violet checked her phone, and Pearl see her relax, Fame probably still in her room. Violet sent off a quick message, looking up at Pearl.

“Are you feeling any better?”

“Mmmh.” Pearl nodded. “Thanks to you.”

“I barely did anything.” Violet took a step forward, settling besides Pearl on the wall, the two of them chatting away, and Pearl knew without a doubt that she’d have Violet in her bed where she belonged before Paris was over.

***

Courtney’s hands flew over the practically smoking keyboard as she tried to keep up with the barrage of emails from Violet. How was she able to send emails so fast, all while attending fashion shows? Shouldn’t she be sipping a café au lait or something?

She felt like she hadn’t had a moment to breathe since yesterday morning, when she’d woken up at 4 am to message after message, an endless list of tasks to complete before she even had a chance to pee. Today was no different. She supposed that the entire week would be like this. At first, she’d had a faint hope that the time difference would mean going home early, but so far no such luck. Violet clearly expected her to be in the office until 7 just like always.

Courtney groaned. It was only Tuesday and she was already so tired, so stressed, so aggravated. Any task that wasn’t an absolute emergency was getting put off, added to a to do list that was growing exponentially. She never thought she’d be praying for Fame and Violet to return to the office, but she couldn’t wait until this European extravaganza was over.

Her phone rang, and she answered quickly, seeing that the call was coming from reception.

“Yes?”

“Come to the front desk,” Roxy said. “There’s something I need to show you.”

“Now? But I just-”

“Yeah, now. Hurry.”

The line went silent as she hung up. Courtney finished her email, made a note on her pad, and then heaved herself up from the desk, hurrying to reception to find out what could possibly be so urgent.

“What’s going on?” she asked, confused by the giant grin on Roxy’s face.

“Someone loves you,” Roxy said.

Now, Courtney was really confused. Her brow furrowed deeply.

“Huh?”

Roxy rolled her eyes and gestured to a flower arrangement sitting on the ledge in front of her. It was a huge, extravagant flower arrangement of pink and champagne roses. It was so big that Courtney hadn’t even noticed it at first, mistaking it for part of the office decor.

“Those are for me?” Courtney asked, eyes wide.

“Yeah. And these too.” Roxy held out a huge gold box of chocolates. “For a second I wondered if it was Valentine’s Day. Then I remembered it’s fucking September.”

Courtney stepped forward, pulling the card from the flowers and ripping open the envelope.

“Who’re they from?”

To the most beautiful girl in the entire world,

I know you’re stressed right now, so I hope these cheer you up. It’s only been 2 days but I already miss you like crazy, would give anything just to see your face. Don’t be a stranger.

XO, W

P.S. Don’t worry, the chocolates are vegan.

A smile tugged at Courtney’s lips. She’d had another amazing date with Willam on Sunday, almost disgustingly adorable: an extended brunch, followed by hours of strolling through the park, fingers laced together, taking in the foliage already turning brilliant fall colors. She’d confided in him, even more than she had before, about all of the things weighing on her mind, all her secret dreams and hopes for the future. And he hadn’t interrupted her once, had been interested in all of it like nobody else she’d ever met.

And at one point, standing on a little footbridge, breathing in the crisp autumn air, he’d kissed her. A sweet and tender kiss. It was strange: he had such a bold sense of humor, almost crude, but their relationship was the exact opposite. Chaste. Victorian, even.

For someone used to being treated like a piece of meat, it was a lovely and refreshing change of pace, and Courtney found herself thinking that in fact, she was wrong to be worried about their supposed lack of passion. So he didn’t want to jump into bed right away--that was good! It gave them time to get to know each other. And she had to admit, it was a bit of a relief that he wasn’t only looking for sex; she could just relax and enjoy their time together without worrying about all the usual things.

The truth, the real truth, was that Courtney had never liked dating very much before. Oh sure, she enjoyed attention, being told she was beautiful, seeing the effect she had on boys. All of that was nice. But actually doing it: sitting through excruciating conversations about sports and cars and comic books or whatever the boys she dated happened to be obsessed with, listening to empty promises and fancy words when she knew for a fact that the only thing they wanted was between her legs. And the sex itself--never particularly satisfying, mostly just another thing she had to Get Through for any chance at being held (and even that was hit or miss).

Courtney had been telling herself for years that it was the boys: she just somehow always ended up with shallow jerks and exhausting douchebags. Someday, she’d find a great guy, who was exciting and funny and considerate, who made her feel all those fluttery things that she was supposed to feel.

Was Willam that guy? He certainly should be. He was kind and patient and objectively good-looking. It made Courtney a bit uneasy to think that maybe it wasn’t him. Maybe she was the one with the problem. Maybe she was just incapable of the kind of epic romance that she’d always dreamed of.

“Oh, just this guy I’m seeing.” For a moment, Courtney found herself wondering if she should use the word ‘boyfriend.’ It still felt too soon, but was it? He was certainly angling hard in that direction.

“You must be amazing in bed,” said Roxy.

“We haven’t actually slept together yet,” Courtney told her, gathering the flowers and chocolates into her arms. Since Miss Fame was gone, nobody could stop her from keeping them in her office, so she could look at them anytime her day sucked. Which, if the week continued to go the way it had been, would be frequently.

“You haven’t slept together and he’s sending this shit?!” Roxy’s eyes practically bugged out of her head. “Marry him!”

Courtney laughed, rounding the corner back to her office and setting the roses down. She sighed happily, pulling out her cell to send Willam a thank you text, when her office phone began ringing. She dropped her cell, scrambling to pick up her headset, pulse quickening and stomach sinking when she saw that familiar number on the caller ID.

“Hi, Violet…” Courtney closed her eyes as Violet began to rant at her about Fame’s latest emergency, bracing herself for an incredibly un-fun afternoon.

#rpdr fanfiction #thedane #veronica #galactica #adore x pearl #raja x raven #vitan #pearlet #witney #adore delano #courtney act #violet chachki #raja gemini #raven #miss fame #pearl liaison #roxxxy andrews #lesbian au #fashion au

3 notes · View notes

cycwrites · 5 years

Text

Switching Gears Part 2 - W.T.F. Just Happened?

Words: 4683

Rating: M (Eventually. I think.)

Tumblr Master Post

Also on AO3 and FFN

As always, thanks to @tiny-maus-boots for all the Beta’ing and support.

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

~S~

“I’m sorry, you need what?”

Stacie paced in front of Chloe’s desk. “Bolt cutters. Some crazy woman just locked my bike to one of the racks with her chain.” She was still seething over the absolute insanity of it.

She’d walked outside and blinked stupidly at the second chain wrapped above hers. Looking up she’d searched the crowd around her before her eyes locked on the blonde from earlier. Who then had the fucking nerve to smile at her and ring the bell on her handlebars as she rode off.

Stacie could still hear the trill of it in her head and every time it echoed it took on an increasingly mocking edge. Needless to say any zen she’d gotten from her yoga class was rapidly dissipating.

When she’d double checked that the lock was indeed in place and she couldn’t just unwrap the damn thing, she’d stormed back into the building, people parting before her like a wave. She’d made her way straight to Chloe’s office to get the bolt cutters kept on hand for locks left on lockers.

Chloe watched her, confused. “Why would she do that?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Chlo!” Stacie threw her arms up in the air. “Because she’s fucking nuts?”

“She just… randomly chose you out of the several dozen bikes that are out there at any given moment?” Chloe tried to be neutral but Stacie could hear the amusement layered under it.

“She accused me of ‘taking her spot’.” Stacie stopped and put her hands on her hips. “Like it had her name on it. Said she’d been waiting for whoever had been there to leave, like it’s a parking lot at the mall.” Stacie’s hands shot into the air again. “I didn’t see anyone else in that spot for the three minutes it took me to ride up and get off my bike. Then suddenly this blonde woman who had been on her phone like ten feet away is yelling ‘That’s my spot!’”

Chloe twisted her lips like she was trying to keep from laughing. “Oh.”

“That’s it?” Stacie stared at her. “Just ‘oh’?”

“What else am I supposed to say, Stacie? ‘Let’s track her down and call the law on her?’” She grinned but Stacie was still too pissed off to find it funny.

“Do you think that’d work?” Stacie muttered.

“No.” Chloe said, still showing a complete lack of concern. “But I am tempted to look back through the security footage to find out who has you so riled up.”

“Would you ban her for life?” Stacie resumed her pacing, too agitated to be still.

“Stacie.” Chloe chided.

“You’re too nice a person.” Stacie accused.

“And I don’t want to get a bad reputation now that Stretch has finally become noticed.” Chloe watched her. “Please sit down, you’re making me want to get up and pace with you.”

Grudgingly Stacie took a seat. “One person wouldn’t – “

“One bad review and the whole thing could fall apart,” Chloe interrupted. “You wouldn’t want that to happen, would you?”

Deflating slightly, even though she knew that Chloe was exaggerating on purpose, Stacie slumped in her chair. “No.” The two of them had been best friends since middle school and Stacie would never do anything that could potentially hurt Chloe’s dream.

Chloe had been working non-stop for the past four years to have Stretch It Out become a central point for almost all fitness needs. What started out as a dance studio, with her as the only instructor, had grown to encompass so much more: Spin classes, yoga, aerobics, dancercise – which Stacie still rolled her eyes at; ‘What’s next, that whole horse prancing thing, Chlo?’ – and she was hoping to hire a CrossFit trainer by the end of the year. Stacie was trying to convince Chloe to hire a self-defense instructor and/or someone who could teach kickboxing; she’d always wanted to learn and if she could do it cheaper thanks to her lifetime bestie discount it was even better.

“Aw, you do love me.” Chloe stood up from her chair and walked over to stroke her hand along Stacie’s hair. “Come on, I still wanna see the mystery woman.” She leaned down and grabbed Stacie’s hand and tugged. “Bolt cutters are in Security anyway.”

With a sigh, Stacie let herself be pulled to her feet. “Fiiiiine.” She followed Chloe down the hall to the door unobtrusively marked ‘Video’. “But if you’re not going to let me try and press charges I don’t know what the big deal is.”

“That’s okay ,” Chloe shrugged and opened the door with her key. “You don’t have to.” She waved Stacie in. “After you.”

“So kind,” Stacie rolled her eyes then smiled at the woman sitting in front of a station of five monitors. “Hey, Amy.”

“Skyscraper.” The Australian nodded at her. “How’s the weather up there?”

“Nothin’ but blue sky, Ames.” Stacie leaned against a filing cabinet.

Amy nodded at Chloe as she shut the door behind them. “Boss.”

“Can you pull up the camera for the racks in front and run it back about…” Chloe trailed off and looked at Stacie who checked her watch.

“What?” Amy interrupted before she could answer, looking at Chloe with confusion. “You can do that?”

Chloe stared at her for several seconds. “You’ve been here a year and you didn’t know that?” She rolled her eyes. “Tell me again why I hired you?”

Amy clicked her tongue. “You gotta keep me around so people remember why they’re here.”

“Amy!” Chloe gasped as Stacie frowned. “Don’t talk about yourself that way.”

“What, are you saying I’m not hot?” Amy eyed her carefully. “That’s why people do all these classes of yours, don’t they? To be hot?”

Stacie couldn’t help but smile. She was confident but no one was as confident as Amy. “You’re absolutely right, Amy.”

“Right.” Amy nodded at her. “Maybe I should read the manual…” She turned her chair to look at the thick binder resting on the desk next to her.

“Maybe,” Chloe said dryly. “But for now, let me in there so I can check the feeds.” Amy pushed her chair out of the way but made no move to stand.

Stacie could see that Chloe almost asked for the chair and decided against it. Instead she just stood in front of the console and looked back at Stacie. “After yoga class?” She clicked a button and the front entrance camera filled the center, and biggest, monitor.

“Yeah, after my shower.” Stacie scowled at the screen as Chloe turned a dial and the image began to run backward.

“You were naked with someone in the shower?” Amy asked teasingly from behind them. “I didn’t think Chloe allowed that kind of –”

“No!” Stacie cut her off and crossed her arms. “I did not have anyone in my cubicle with me.”

“Pity.”

“Found it!” Chloe suddenly said and Stacie’s eyes darted back to the monitor, now paused on the image of the uptight blonde kneeling by Stacie’s bike, chain through Stacie’s front tire. “Oh…”

Stacie turned sharply. “Oh?” Chloe’s tone had been somewhere between surprised and amused and it caught her attention.

Chloe chewed on her lower lip and Stacie couldn’t tell if it was in worry or to hide a grin. “That’s Aubrey.”

Bemused despite the slight renewal of her anger, Stacie half grinned at her friend. “Seriously, do you know everyone?”

‘Aubrey.’ Stacie rolled it over in her mind. ‘Why does that name sound familiar?’

“A good business owner is friendly and gets to know their clientele, Stacie.” Chloe said absently, her eyes still on the monitor as she let it run forward again. “But…”

It finally clicked and Stacie snapped her fingers, making both Chloe and Amy jump. “That’s her!” She pointed an accusing finger at Chloe. “That’s the hottie from spin class, isn’t it?” She frowned. “Wait, she rides her bike here, takes a spin class and then rides home or whatever? Isn’t that… overkill? She’s clearly even more insane than I thought.” She looked back at the screen. “Maybe her broom is in the shop.” Her eyes narrowed on the hand that had just lifted from the bell; even though there was no sound Stacie could still hear it ringing. “I’m going to steal that fucking bell.”

Without looking Chloe lightly poked her in the stomach. “Well, yes. That’s… her.” Chloe looked up at Stacie. “I’ve never heard her having any sort of altercation with anyone before.” She faced the desk and turned the dial, the image once more going in reverse.

“Gee, my lucky day.” Stacie resisted the urge to pace again.

“What’s the matter, you fancy her?” Amy said as she twisted lightly back and forth in the chair.

“I fancy strangling her.” Stacie muttered.

“Didn’t know you were into the kinky stuff.” Amy whistled appreciatively. “I now see you in a whole new light.”

“I don’t… that’s not…” Stacie stared at her. “I didn’t say that.”

“You’re also not actually saying you’re not.” Amy nodded. “But I get it, you’re embarrassed. You shouldn’t be. We like what we like.” She tilted her head and Stacie began to wonder if she was dreaming. “Though, if Chloe likes the blonde, I don’t know if you should go poaching.” She put her hand to the side of her mouth and whispered, “At least not when she’s around to see you do it.”

Stacie’s mouth worked but all she could come up with was “I would never go after someone Chloe likes.”

“Tyler Winston.” Chloe paused the feed again as she turned and leaned her hip against the security desk, a smirk on her lips.

“He doesn’t count,” Stacie said indignantly. “I had just moved to town and had no idea you had your baby blues on him!” She put her hands on her hips. “We weren’t even friends then!”

Chloe tilted her head from side to side, considering. “Alright. That’s fair.”

“See? I would nev–”

“Kasie Carson.” Chloe cut her off.

“C’mon, Chlo.” Stacie groaned. “She was hot and I was a hormonal teenager.”

“Like that’s any different now.” Chloe turned to Amy. “Kasie was one of the members of our high school dance team. She transferred in from another school – by that time Stacie and I had moved past Tyler and had become best friends – and she was raven haired and gorgeous.”

“Did you ever smash that?” The Australian looked between them.

“No.” Chloe said and Stacie echoed it.

“No, because after Tyler we made a pact not to go after anyone we both liked.” Stacie threw her hands in the air. “Which I have never done, as you well know.”

“So you guys have been friends for a while then?” Amy leaned back in her chair.

“Oh, totes.” Chloe grinned at her. “Since seventh grade. In high school we were inseparable; we took the same classes, the same extra-curricular activities.”

“Like dance team.” Amy nodded slowly, looking between them. “I see.” Stacie knew there was more she wanted to say when her lips pursed.

“Any time we had competitions away we always shared a dinky hotel room.” Stacie offered, more to see where Amy would go with it though she was pretty sure she had an idea.

“So you slept in the same bed.” Amy nodded sagely. “I see,” she said again, one eyebrow arching up.

“Yeah.” Chloe nodded back at her then frowned. “Not sexually.” Stacie waited, knowing it was coming. “Well, there was that one time.” Chloe turned and winked at her.

Stacie shrugged but smiled back. They’d decided to see if there was anything more between them and while the night had been... amazing… they’d both decided they worked better as friends. Nothing had changed between them; if anything it had deepened their friendship.

And, okay, maybe they’d had a handful of such encounters over the years when they were single and the mood struck them, but that certainly wasn’t any of Amy’s business. They had fun together but neither of them had ever talked about it being anything more. She supposed she ought to examine that one day, but for now it was enough that she knew the two of them would always be together even if they weren’t together.

“But now tall, dark and gorgeous wants your spin class hottie.” Amy interrupted her thoughts as Chloe turned back to the controls.

“Yes.” Chloe said over her shoulder, still grinning.

“No.” Stacie said over her, with enforced patience. “I am not asking out the crazy lady!”

“Then why are we looking into the footage?” Amy asked, almost reasonably. “And why is she crazy?”

“Because she locked my bike to the rack with her chain.” It didn’t get any less surreal the more she said it. “I need the bolt cutters, by the way.”

Amy jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “In the closet.” She moved to push herself up but Stacie waved her down.

“I got it, no big.” She moved to the door and opened the closet, digging around until she found the heavy duty cutters.

“And here is the first encounter. This oughta be interesting.” Chloe resumed playback on the video and zoomed as much as the system would let her. “Boy, she does look pissed.”

“She sounded it too.” Stacie studied the screen, the image clearer than she would’ve expected.

“You could you know.” Chloe said absently and Stacie turned her attention away from the monitor as their encounter continued.

“Could what? Press charges?” While she was still pissed, Stacie was over the worst of it. “Nah. It’d cost more than it’d be worth.”

“No,” Chloe turned to face her. “Ask her out.”

“I don’t want to ask her out,” Stacie said, waving the hand not holding the bolt cutters.

“You know nothing ever happened between Aubrey and me. And I’m not an insecure teenager anymore. It never happened. Or she wasn’t interested.”

“Because you never asked her out,” Stacie countered. “Anyone with eyes is interested in you, Chlo.”

“Timing.” Chloe shrugged. “Never seemed right.” Chloe had first mentioned Aubrey a year ago and Stacie kept waiting for the details of their first date but it had never happened. Chloe hadn’t wanted to seem like she was hitting on the clientele and Stacie couldn’t believe Aubrey hadn’t asked her out. Of course now that she knew Aubrey was crazy it made more sense and she figured Chloe had dodged a bullet.

“Excuse me.” Amy interjected and they both turned to look at her but she was watching the screen. “But what did you say to her right then?”

Chloe ran the footage back, both of them having tuned it out while they talked. “Oh. No, I was wrong before. Now she looks pissed.”

Stacie thought for a second and then laughed. “I told her she should try yoga, it might help her unclench.”

“Oh, Stretch.” Amy shook her head. “That’s not how you woo a woman.”

“I WASN’T TRYING TO WOO HER!” Stacie yelled.

“Alright, alright.” Amy patted the air. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist, jeeze.”

“Stacie,” Chloe pulled her attention back. “Then what did you say to her?”

“I said…” Stacie stopped abruptly as her words came back. “Nothing. Why?”

“Because whatever it was, I’m shocked you’re not dead from the glare she just gave you.” Chloe paused the footage and smirked at her. “So?”

“Yeah, spill.” Amy joined in.

Stacie tried to shrug nonchalantly. “That she’d be cuter if her face wasn’t pinched.” There was no way she was giving them the rest of it. She didn’t even know why she’d said it – except it was true. Somehow the way the other woman – Aubrey’s – nostrils had flared the angrier she got was… cute. And, now that she wasn’t being yelled at, Stacie could admit Aubrey was an attractive woman; toned arms and legs, glossy blonde hair, exactly the kind of woman that Stacie – and Chloe – would be attracted to.

Except she was also just nuttier than a fruitcake.

“She is cute.” Amy agreed. “When are you going to ask her out?”

“Oh my god.” Stacie covered her face with her free hand. “Never.”

“You should.”

Stacie’s head snapped up at Chloe’s words. “Are you kidding me? Not only is she insane, she obviously hates me and will probably pop my tire if I’m ever in ‘her spot’ again.”

“You started assigning spots to the bike rack?” Amy pointed at Chloe. “I hope you don’t expect me to police that – it wasn’t part of my job requirement when I signed on.”

“I didn’t assign spots, Amy. It’s a long story.” Chloe held up her hand to stop Amy from speaking. “I’ll tell you later.”

“I’ll hold you to that. I don’t get nearly enough gossip.” Amy sighed. “It’s horrible being stuck in this room all day.”

“Amy.” Chloe shook her head. “You go hang out with Emily at the front desk all the time. All you two do is gossip.” She pressed another button and the monitors reset to live feeds.

“She’s good company.” Amy paused. “And really easy to tease.”

“You be nice to my cousin,” Stacie warned. “I don’t wanna have to kick your ass.”

“Yeah yeah.” Amy waved away the threat.

“C’mon, let’s go get your bike out of bondage.” Chloe put her hands on Stacie’s shoulders and turned her around.

Stacie just groaned as she let herself be led from the room and back through the halls until they reached the lobby and passed back outside into the late afternoon sun. “I still can’t believe this is a thing that happened.”

“You did seem to make a lasting impression on her,” Chloe said as she crouched and gave the chain a tug. “That’s a pretty heavy duty one too; probably cost her a pretty penny.” She tugged again. “It might take the two of us to cut it.”

“Think the lock would be easier?” Stacie ignored the looks they were getting from other people going in and out of the building.

“Nah. Locks are always worse.” Chloe stood back up. “Alright, let’s get it done.”

Between the two of them they were able to get enough force to cut through the chain though at one point Stacie thought they might have to go get Amy to help.

“Freedom!” Chloe yelled as the metal finally gave way.

“Thank god,” Stacie panted as she straightened up, stretching out her back. “Hunching over like that was starting to hurt.”

“Are you getting old?” Chloe shoulder bumped her.

“I’m younger than you,” Stacie replied automatically as she hefted the cut chain in her hands.

“Gimme, I’ll chuck it in the dumpster out back.” Chloe held out her hand and Stacie dropped the chain into it.

“Thanks. I’ll return the cutters to Amy.” Stacie lifted the tool to rest on her shoulder. “Thanks for the help, Chlo.”

“That’s what best friends are for.” Chloe said as they walked back inside, waving at Emily at the counter.

“And you’re the best.” Stacie paused outside Amy’s room. “But I am not asking out your hottie.”

“Notice I didn’t bring it up this time.” Chloe kept walking down the hall but turned to walk backwards, smug grin firmly in place. “You know – with all the denials… you haven’t actually said you weren’t interested…”

Stacie opened her mouth, firmly intending to unequivocally put an end to it once and for all, but what she said was, “Stop trying to set me up with crazy, Chlo.” She frowned at herself.

Chloe’s grin widened slowly like the Cheshire Cat. “Oh, Stace. You don’t even see it.” Before Stacie could ask her what the hell she was talking about, Chloe turned with a laugh and headed toward the back of the building, the chain swinging lightly from her hand.

With an annoyed grunt at her departing friend, Stacie knocked on the security room door. “Ames, it’s me. Returning the bolt cutters.” After a moment the door opened a crack and Amy peered out at her for a moment before opening the door all the way.

“Got yourself out of bondage then?” Amy grinned at her and took the bolt cutters Stacie held out.

“I should’ve expected that,” Stacie shook her head. “Yes, thanks for your concern.”

“Any time.” Amy hefted the cutters. “If you piss off any more women who are into chains…” She wiggled her eyebrows. “I want all the dirty details.”

“That’s…” Stacie sighed. “Goodbye, Amy.” She turned to go and caught sight of the binder sitting open on the desk. “You decided to give it a go?”

“Yeah.” Amy looked over her shoulder and then back at Stacie. “There’s some footage of me and my man in the shower after hours last week that maybe I don’t want the boss to see now that I know it records.” She shrugged. “Not that I’m ashamed, but she might not understand.”

By sheer force of will Stacie kept herself from laughing. “Nope, I get it. It’s doing her a favor, really.”

“Exactly!” Amy stepped back and started closing the door. “I knew you would understand, what with the whole chains thing and all.”

“Right.” Stacie turned and paused as a thought came to her. “But… there are no cameras in the showers or locker room?”

“We may not have stayed in the shower the whole time…” Amy pursed her lips. “Sometimes passion cannot be contained to one room.”

“Right…” Stacie said again, nodding slowly and firmly telling herself not to allow that image to form. She’d met Bumper and she’d never be able to look at either of them the same way again. She backed away from the door with a final wave. “See you later.”

As she reached the lobby, she paused by the counter. “Still on for dinner tomorrow?”

Emily looked up from the schedule she was putting together. “Yup. You still cooking?”

“I suppose it’s my turn.” Stacie pursed her lips. “Does pizza count as cooking if it’s DiGiorno?”

Emily’s head tilted from side to side as she thought. “It kind of sounds like cheating, but since you’ll let me throw whatever I want on it, sure.”

“Deal.” Stacie nodded. “Tomorrow then.”

“Later,” Emily said as she turned back to her chart.

Trying not to think too much about the last time she’d gone through this process, Stacie unchained her bike and stowed the chain and lock. She put in her earbuds, started up her favorite playlist and did her very best to not think about Aubrey and the whole ridiculous encounter. It was a fluke, it’s not like they’d crossed paths before and she probably wouldn’t see Aubrey again.

Except that every time she stopped actively thinking about anything else the rest of her night, she found her mind circling back to one very angry blonde staring her down.

By the time she woke up the next day, the encounter was far enough removed that she only thought of it in passing, mostly when she was riding her bike to and from work. And even then it wasn’t for very long and was nothing more than a mental snort of derision.

Until, that is, Emily came over for dinner. Then her cousin grilled her on what had happened the day before, since she’d seen some of it through the glass doors.

“So are you asking her out?” Emily asked curiously as she dried the last of the dishes.

“Oh. My. God.” Stacie dropped onto her couch, being careful not to spill her wine. “Why does everyone keep asking me that?”

“Because she’s pretty.” Emily followed her into the living room and sat down with one leg drawn underneath her so she could face Stacie. “And she’s really nice.”

“She chained my bike to the rack. There is nothing nice about that.” Stacie took a bracing drink. “She’s crazy.”

“No, she’s not.” Emily insisted. “She always tells me hello when she comes in and goodbye when she leaves. Flo loves her in class because she’s so energetic and friendly.” Emily poked Stacie in the knee. “So you should definitely think about asking her out. You’ve been alone too long.”

“I’m not alone,” Stacie countered automatically. “You’re here. I got Chlo…”

“You haven’t dated in months.” Emily raised one brow. “You never not date.”

“Eh.” Stacie shrugged. “I got tired of the same type of people. No one is ever interested in more than just my boobs.”

“Gross.” Emily’s nose wrinkled.

“Exactly.” Stacie shrugged. “And while that was fine in college, it doesn’t have the same thrill that it used to.”

“Aw, are you finally maturing?” Emily ducked when Stacie tried to flick her in the nose. “Hey, no cousin on cousin violence.” Eyeing Stacie warily, she leaned her shoulder against the couch. “Seriously though… I don’t like to see you alone.”

“I’m okay, really.” Stacie smiled at her. “Thanks for the concern though.”

“Since you won’t date Chloe – who I still say would be good for you – then you’re going to have to start branching out of your comfort zone.” Emily nodded sagely.

“Crazy should be outside of everyone’s comfort zone. And Chloe and I… that just seems weird after all these years.” Stacie shrugged. “I love her, of course, but I don’t know that I’m in love with her.”

“That’s not a good enough reason to not date and figure it out, but I get it.” Emily half shrugged. “And, seriously, you could do worse than Aubrey.” She sat back up, her expression earnest. “And I’m not saying you have to ask her to marry you, just coffee! Sit down and talk!”

“I’d be too afraid that she’d chain me to my chair.” Stacie paused, one corner of her mouth twitching into a grin as she tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Although…”

“Ew, gross. No more putting the sex thoughts in my head.” Emily shook her head rapidly. “I take it back.”

“I thought so.” Stacie took another drink of her wine and gestured at the bookcase. “Go pick a movie, Nerd.”

“Just for that, I’m goin’ with a sappy romance to put you in the mood,” Emily threatened as she pushed herself off the couch. “And you’re not going to fall asleep this time.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Stacie got up as well. “Then I’m getting the bottle.” She paused in the entryway to the kitchen. “Besides, I’m probably not going to see her again. We’ve gone this long without passing each other, so you and Chlo need to just stop the match making.”

“Ooh, Chloe’s on board too?” Emily spun to face her, eyes sparkling with glee. “Excellent.”

“Make that two bottles.” Stacie walked into the kitchen.

~*~

A week and a half later Stacie rode to the studio for her yoga class.

As she hopped off to park her bike in the closest rack, her eyes flicked to the one that had been the scene of so much chaos. It had become a habit every day she was there, though she wasn’t sure why. She froze in the act of unwrapping her chain from the bike frame.

Sitting in ‘her spot’ was Aubrey’s red bike. Stacie knew it was hers because no one else in town had a stupid bell on their bike. The second she laid eyes on it she had the echo of its ring go through her head. She eyed it narrowly, noting that it wouldn’t require any sort of tool to remove.

Locking her bike to the rack she made her way inside, ignoring the way Emily waved at her excitedly and gave her a thumbs up with an overly exaggerated wink.

“Guess who is here?” She stage whispered the second Stacie was close enough.

“I don’t care.” Stacie walked past the desk toward her class. “Bye Emily.”

“But…” Emily said behind her but stopped when Stacie kept walking. “Spoil sport.”

‘If it’s still here when I leave, I’m going to steal that fucking bell.’

Feeling slightly better with a retaliation plan in place, even if it felt extremely petty, Stacie went to her locker to get her yoga mat.

#staubrey #stacie conrad #chloe beale #aubrey posen #wlw #fat amy #emily junk #cyc writes #switching gears

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tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors · 5 years

Text

Bell slunk towards Virgil, who was sitting just away. Patton was still in her field of vision, however.

“Heeeey Vee.”

“What do you want, Bell.” Virgil said, not looking up from the paperwork he was idly working on.

“Well it’s Zee’s 150th birthday, you know that already of course, and I wanted to surprise her with a party with all her friends!” Bell gushed.

Virgil did turn his eyes from the papers at that, looking towards Bell from the corner of his eyes with a slight smirk. “And how do I help with that?”

“Well the humans know you, so I need you to skedaddle on over there and ask Remy and his boy to come to the party! Or get one of yours to do it.” Bell shrugged, not minding the incredulous look Virgil was giving her.

“Skedaddle on over there?” He clarified.

“Mhm! You know, yeet! We need all of your boyfriends and those two anyways! Oh and don’t forget your other human friend. Zee likes them too!” She joked, sticking out her tongue at her brother-in-law, who merely sighed.

“You’re having far too much fun with the memes Roman taught you.” Virgil huffed.

“You know me too well.” Bell winked. “Now shoo, isn’t Roman friends with that Remy kid? I’m setting up the grotto with Patton and White later for the party tonight– first moonlight! Now shoo!”

Virgil sighed without any real annoyance behind it. Bell was back talking with Patton and leading him to the grotto where Virgil assumed White would be waiting.

Without much fanfare, Virgil dropped the papers off at his room before heading towards Roman’s house.

A knock at the door opened to find the one and only Roman Gage.

“My emo love, how are you?!” Roman crooned, giving Virgil a chaste kiss.

“Hey Roman. Sadly I’m not here for leisure this time, but in a little while. Bell is setting up a birthday party for Zeph. She wanted me to ask you to invite Remy and Emilie.” Virgil explained.

“Remy and Emilie? I didn’t realize Zeph was friends with them.” Roman thought.

Virgil chuckled, “Yeah, made friends with Remy then Emilie by the connection between the two. Haven’t you noticed she gave them similar charms to what I gave you?”

Roman looked up, trying to remember. “Oh yeah, I did recall seeing Remy with a new necklace. I haven’t noticed it on Emile, but it may just be under his clothes.” Roman shrugged. “I’ll go pop on over and tell them. When and where?”

“First moonlight. It’s in the grotto so just tell them to meet you here and we can lead them since I don’t think they know where the grotto is.”

Roman nodded and left to go get the boys. Roman politely knocked on Remy’s door, happy that it was the man himself who answered instead of a parent or Remy’s brother.

“Hey gurl! Whatchu need?” Remy greeted.

“Turns out a friend of yours is having a party and you and Emile are invited.” Roman smirked.

“Oh? Do tell who.”

“Our very own Queen of the Forest, Zeph.”

“Ooh! Lil Zeph-y’s having a party eh? What’s the occasion?”

“Her wife is planning a surprise birthday party for her. Bell is planning the whole thing. Not sure exactly what year but I’d have to guess 150 or 175 since she’s making such a big deal out of it.”

“Ooh damn that’s a long-ass time. Well, I’ll pass the word on to Emile. What’re the deets?”

“Just meet me at mine at first moonlight and I’ll take you to the venue–it’s in the forest so you gotta know where you are going.”

Remy nodded, winking through his sunglasses before shutting the door to go tell Emile.

Roman chuckled as he strolled back to his house.

Meanwhile, Virgil was walking to Eliot’s.

Instead of knocking on the front door, Virgil instead climbed up and knocked on Eliot’s window. Virgil’s friend inside startled, but opened the window.

“V! What are you doing here?” theyasked.

“My sister-in-law asked me to invite you to a surprise birthday party. You and Zee get along well so her wife thought it would be nice to have you there.”

“Oh! A party?” Eliot stammered. “When is it?”

“Tonight. I can pick you up to take you to the location–it’s being held in the forest so it’s best if someone goes with you.”

Eliot thought it over for a moment before nodding. “Alright. I’ll keep the window open.”

Virgil smiled. “See you then.”

Eliot nodded and Virgil vanished in the next blink of an eye.

Zephyr had spent the beginning of the day playing with the spiders, using their shared essence from Virgil to be able to talk with one another.

She was a little sad that Bell was apparently very busy until late, so they wouldn’t be able to spend the day together, but the spiders were very good family as well.

Just after moonrise, a raven flew over and landed on a branch to Zephyr’s left. A small note was tied to her leg, which Zephyr took from the bird, who promptly flew off.

“Meet me at our grotto, Sweetbreeze.”

The letter wasn’t signed, but it may as well have been with that nickname being one exclusive to her wife. Zephyr chuckled and made her way to the grotto.

Zephyr could hear chatter from the grotto as she walked in, gasping loudly as she saw a large group of her friends there.

“Surprise!” They all yelled.

Bell walked over to her wife with a large smile. “I thought you’d like to spend your 150th with all your besties.”

Zephyr chuckled happily, kissing her wife. “I’m very pleased. You even went out of your way to get all the humans, who’d you send to go get Rem, Em, and Elliot?”

Bell made a faux expression of indignance. “You know me so well you ask such a question of me I– Yeah I got Roman to do it.”

Zephyr laughed and pressed a kiss on Bell’s cheek. “Thank you. Well,” She continued, turning to Remy, “you got some of that mead?”

Remy smirked and held up a already-filled glass, “Do you think so little of me?”

Zephyr laughed and walked over, taking the glass. “Well, let’s get this party started!”

V: this is so cute! your OC’s adorable and doting wife Bell is a helluva drug

#submission #long post

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hearteyes-for-killmonger · 5 years

Text

One Night Only 2: Part 3

Dedicated to @muse-of-mbaku This one is moreso the reader and Anaya then Anaya and Corey like the last chapter was. Word Count: 2,231

Warnings: Softboi!Erik, no smut this chapter.

There's a long rumble in Erik's chest as you wake him with a barrage of featherlight kisses on his cheek. His head is half buried under the blanket while another fourth is swallowed by his pillow, but you can reach that velvety patch of skin between his eye and sideburn. "I called Raven over to watch Anthony."

"Who's Raven," he rasps, his voice almost too deep to understand. You've been around him long enough to decipher the monotonous sounds.

"The sitter I'm paying for the week to be on standby.. She'll be here in less than an hour. I'm going to get showered, dressed, let her in, and then me and Anaya are going to the spa. We'll probably be back around 2.. 2ish.. 3." You check your phone. It's about 8:30 AM and you still have to wake Anaya for the 10 AM appointment.

"Mm," he grunts with closed eyes, "Who's gonna watch me?" The smile in his voice does damage to your loins. No matter how long you're with him, your stomach and your kitty still does cartwheels. "Shut up," you chuckle softly in his ear. His arm wriggles out from under the blanket and blindly feels for your hand. Pulling it and your arm toward his lips, he kisses both before holding your arm and resting his head on your hand like a stuffed toy. He's always this cute and affectionate on the morning of days he gets to sleep in. "I love you too," you cave leaning down to kiss more of his exposed face. On the third kiss he stirs, eyes still closed.

"Needa love a toothbrush," he deadpans. Your jaw drops. Immediately, you clamp your lips shut and snatch your arm back letting his head flop back against the pillow. There's a close-lipped grin on his face as he plays tug-of-war pulling you back down to the bed. "You my stinky lips," he grins.

"Uh-uh, get off me." You push at him, but he's glued.

"Nah, yuckmouth. You got time to love me," he groans, sleep still evident in his playful tone as he traps you in a bear hug, his body heat radiating through you. It's turning you on.

"Erik.. I gotta wake Anaya," you whisper tilting your head back to look up at him. If your morning breath is that bad, he ought to let you go. You think of blowing in his face, but decide against it. Just because he wouldn't go off on you doesn't mean you should do it. That would be disrespectful. Besides, he doesn't do stuff like that to you. He even excuses himself most of the time to fart away from you. Basic decency. The one time he'd completely let loose...

He released a demonic, sulfuric fart from the swamp gutter of Hell.. You were laying your head in his lap on the living room couch, but immediately hopped up. Silently disgusted, you soldiered through the stench walking to the bathroom to grab the spray and spritzing the air. You sat back down next to him and he covered his eyes, chuckling. "Oh my fuckin..," he snickered. "Oh shit.. you a real one because that was fuckin disgusting. I'm so sorry baby." Minutes passed and he was still chuckling on the low. You turned to look at him. "What's so funny!" He shook his head and you waited before he finally spoke. "I'm so sorry baby, I just had to see if you love me no matter what," he chuckled making himself cough. You wanted to spray him in the face. Thankfully, he'd never done anything like that since.

His eyes are still closed and he's falling back to sleep. You push away from his chest gently and he pulls you right back. "Erikkkk," you whine and his smile returns even wider than before. "You playing! I'm trying to get to this appointment."

"I'm trying to get to them walls. Why can't we both get what we want? Just the tip..," He nudges you over onto your back climbing on top of you and he goes directly to the hot spot on your neck with the tip of his tongue. He's trying to keep you in the bed, you know it.

"When I get back, I promise," you say pushing him arms length away so that you can slide from up under him. He groans in irritation and you know you're gonna get it whenever you do come back. Especially if his morning wood is any indication of how the day will go. As you've come to learn... It is.

---

Nairobi was the spa that you'd fallen in love with when you first moved to LA to be with Erik. A black owned, ladies only spa decorated in stark white and gold. On your arrival, the two of you were offered foamy lattes served in wide white mugs as you sat in wait for your rooms to be prepared. You showed Anaya the the Kenyan product line that sat on display, called Kioo. "This stuff is said to be top of the line, ranked number eleven globally in skincare lines."

"Out of how many?"

"Iunno..," you laugh, "Has to be a lot."

"Well the way it has your skin looking all dewy and glowy, maybe it'll work for this crazy looking breakout I've got going on."

"It's the stress." Between taking care of Anthony as though she were a single mom while maintaining with her job and taking care of the apartment, and Corey's crazy ass acting brand new as if she'd ever be flim-flammy enough to try to play him, AND her bestie living across the country.. she was going through it. She was a survivor as so many black women are. There was absolutely no reason for her to have to be that strong and carry every burden alone.

After changing into white fluffy robes and headwraps to keep your hair out of the way, the both of you are taken into separate rooms for hour-long deep cleansing facials and full body massages. You rejoin for manipedis and as her feet soak in the basin, the massager in the chair going ham.. her energy is of a whole new person, regenerated and refreshed but serene.

"What's so funny," she smiles in response to yours. You shake your head and for a while the two of you rest in comfortable silence.

“I needed this... R&R.. this pampering," Anaya sighs suddenly. "I love Anthony to death, but I've been wrist deep in puke and baby shit since he was born.. A bitch do miss being spoiled."

"You're allowed to need a break, Nay. Corey shouldn't have left him just because he's angry with you and going through it. Being a dad is a 24/7 thing."

"He hasn't disappeared completely. He still buys things I need for Anthony and pays his half of the rent. He'll watch him sometimes, but it's on his own terms. It's like he's literally afraid to be near me, like he doesn't trust me. Won't talk. Nothing more than 'hey' or asking about Anthony." She chuckles humorlessly pausing reflectively. "It's like, what happened to the man who was all about me? The man I fell in love with? It's like he just went poof. Even if he did get over this all of a sudden, MY trust in HIM is broken because of the way he's acting." You can see her eyes getting wet and instead of hiding them, this time she lets her tears slip freely. An employee hands her a box of Kleenex. "I guess this the end of us.. because I can't do much more of this," she sighs dropping her head back against the cushion.

As much as you love them together, you don't have the heart to tell her to hold on. She shouldn't have to. The relationship isn't solely her responsibility. If Corey was as real as you thought he was, he would have tried to work it out as a man in love with the mother of his child. He could be trying so much harder.

"...There she was with her world crumbling.. Eating all the pieces of the sky as it fell.. Libra, black goddess of homeostasis.. Births a new heaven in the valley of hell..," you peice together as the words come to your mind.

"Write that down, that's good," she mutters with a wry scoff.

---

Lunch is at a little bistro where they play new R&B and serve burgers and shit. You stand to wobble to bouncy tune to and shake off the gloom, pulling her up to bounce with you. This was your shared tradition. Whenever one of you were down, you'd dance. You'd jump. You'd twerk. You'd krump. You'd get downright ratchet. She'd initiated it when you were down about your break-up and now it your turn. Burgers high in hand. You both chewed and strutted, dancing with no fucks given for who was watching.

"Raven," you yell walking through the front door of the house with Anaya behind you cackling about the guy with the camera on you in the bistro. "Idon'tgiveafuckputmeontmzbih," you snap playfully as she buries her face in your shoulder in a snickering fit. "Gone put me on Ellen I'm a twerk there too and bring my bestie.. Think the chickenhell I WON'T!" She sounds like a windex bottle and it's making your day. "Shiiiddd," you add. Erik is gone, somewhere being busy. You know he's meeting his publicist and agent, but that's all you know. "Raven," you yell again walking up the stairs. You're a little earlier than you said so it makes sense she's not downsfairs waiting. Poking your head in various rooms, you find Anthony on the bed watching Finding Nemo. "Whew," you blow through your mouth. His pamper is lit. Anaya's nose wrinkles and she sits on the bed next to her baby who's still entranced by the tv. She checks his diaper ready to change him and looks at you a little weird. "What is it," you mouth silently.

"Why she ain't change him," she mouths pointing to your closet. Your ears perk up. You hear what sounds like the clink of a hanger. First of all, why the hell was she all up in your stuff? Charging into the adjoining room that housed yours and Erik's clothes, you find her in front of one the full length mirrors wearing the yellow dress you wore when you attended the MTV awards. Seeing you in the reflection, she freezes. You're stuck and for a while you just stare. She rushes to take it off.

"I'm so sorry! I.. there's no good explanation for this," she rushes taking the dress off and hanging it back in it's spot. "Please don't fire me, I swear it won't happen again."

Shaking your head in surprise, you just stare as she grabs your clothes scrambling to redress. "Get out," you finally find your voice to say. "You'll get paid for the day, but I won't be needing your services going forward." What a stupid way to ruin an easy check. She could've just done her job and went on social media, called her partner, watched tv, anything. It was so simple. "GET OUT," you bark causing her to flinch as she moves around you to leave. Grabbing your head, you return to Anaya to apologize for your own terrible choice of sitters.

"It's not your fault. You tried and I don't fault you. It's her own fault for being negligent," Anaya says retrieving the diaper bag that was where she left it this morning.

"You think she fed him," you ask, the whole situation rubbing you the wrong way.

"Who knows. I'm a feed him and clean him up. He probably been sitting in this all morning." You pop her hand gently, picking up the boy who's now pitching a fit because he wants to finish the movie. Anaya raises an eyebrow and you wave her off laying Anthony down to clean him up.

"I got him, you just relax and try to unwind." Whispering to Anthony to calm and still him, you walk out on your way downstairs to take him for a little walk when you hear the front door close. You walk faster and the downstairs is empty which means that the girl just left. Oh hell no, you think immediately checking everything downstairs with one arm to make sure nothing in the house is missing. Anthony stares as you whiz around. Everything seems to be accounted for. "That crazy girl ain't coming back here," you tell Anthony who's calmed down. He's looking off into the distance not listening. "..Just like a baby," you chuckle staring at his cute fat cheeks. "Auntie Y/N wouldn't mind having one of you eventually.. Just not right now." You kiss him on the forehead and he puts his hand on your face. "I'm going to cook you some chicken and cut it up small," you grin setting him on the countertop. "You wanna help me in the kitchen?" You put a pot next to him with a wooden spoon and show him how to hit it like a drum. It feels like you're living your past dream of motherhood through him and you aren't mad at it.

@inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @panthergoddessbast @mermaidchansons @destinio1 @trevantesbrat @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @siriuslycollins @heyauntieeee @lovemekaycee @radi0active-thoughts @drsunshine97 @blackpantherismyish @tgigoldie @imaginewhoever @ash-moneyy @texasbama @thadelightfulone

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#erik killmonger #original #erik stevens #killmonger #erik killmonger fanfiction #erik killmonger imagines #erik killmonger imagine #erik stevens au #erik killmonger x reader #erik x reader #erik stevens x reader #erik stevens x you

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nightglider124 · 5 years

Text

A Present for Ava <3

Omg, I am shit because this is three days late asdfghjkl i got busy and was trying to get this done for you gurl and finally, we’re here XD

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY RIDE OR DIE; BEST BESTIE A GAL COULD HAVE, @fireflyxrebel !!!! Tis belated but at least I wished it on your actual bday lmao!

I hope you had an amazeballs birthday because if anyone deserves it; it is you, Ava. I hope you stuffed your face with cake and all the good stuff because if you can’t on your birthday, when can you??

You is my actual fave around these parts and so, I wrote you a little BBRae somethin-something which I hope you like. I am unused to writing them as a main so hopefully this is a oneshot where I’ve hopefully done them justice? I don’t know, I just pray you like it XD.

Sorry it took so long gurl but again, happy birthday and I hope it was kick-ass. Ily! <3 <3 <3

Snow

A bitter chill clung to the wisps of the wind in the night as darkness shrouded the city with the exception of a few blinking lights dotted amongst buildings, houses and skyscrapers. Jump was quietly winding down for yet another winter evening; not quite silent yet but slowly working its way towards the tranquility of midnight.

The tower was mostly unlit, save for a window or two on the higher levels. A dim glow washed over the walls of Ops, creating composure with a volume to match.

His mouth hung open, just a fraction as he trained his deep, forest green eyes on the TV screen before them. The man on screen dressed from head to toe in black garments followed behind the unsuspecting woman, slyly pulling a blade from inside his jacket, ready to strike at any given moment.

Gar tilted his head, attention on the predictable scene of the horror movie that they’d decided to throw on since there were none of the others around to squabble over what to watch.

There was a shift in movement from beside him and he briefly glanced over at his violet haired beauty, her dark eyes cast down at the novel in her hands. Gar quirked a small smile and his chest gave a thud, his heart skipping a beat like it always did when he looked at her; really looked at her and saw Raven for the enchantress she truly was.

Although, he’d likely get a smack for ever uttering something so cheesy but that didn’t stop him from thinking it to himself.

“You’re staring again...” She murmured, raising an eyebrow but not yet removing her focus from the words on the pages of her book.

Gar grinned, his fang poking out from beneath his lip. He nudged her shoulder and leaned in, dropping a kiss to her pale cheek.

Raven refused to let the blush that was threatening to spill onto her china like skin, from spreading like the wildfire it was. She already felt the heat rising but swallowed discreetly, stubbornly quelling the effect that grin had on her.

“I have a pretty sight to stare at.” He told her, waggling his eyebrows in her direction, “Can’t blame me; it’s technically your fault.”

She bit down on the inside of her cheek and really tried to maintain that air of nonchalance that she played so well but knew, deep down, her resolve was slipping.

Slowly, a small smirk appeared against her cupid bow lips, “Idiot.”

He blew a kiss at her, “You love it.”

Raven smiled, a happy gleam in her eyes as she shook her head at her boyfriend’s antics. Gar matched her expression and turned to nuzzle her neck, just enough to draw a deliciously startled gasp from her.

He pulled away, that look of achievement on his face which Raven offered a mock glare to. Gar’s high pitched chuckle met her ears and she shuddered, always questioning how he managed to give her feelings like these.

“This is an okay horror movie, y’know.” Gar commented, folding his arms over his chest as he resumed his watchful eye on the TV.

Raven nodded, finishing the sentence she was on before she closed the book with a soft thud and carefully placed it upon the coffee table. She sat back and instinctively leaned in towards Gar who immediately draped his arm over the back of the sofa, creating the perfect crevice to snuggle up into if she so wished but he never pushed. He gave the option and allowed her to make that choice.

Raven was still an enigma, even after knowing her for so long and even dating her for the past 3 years. However, he knew there was an abundance more than met the eye. Sometimes she craved affection and touch and attention; it was rarer but he couldn’t deny that he loved when she found herself needing that from him. Other times, she would stay distant with a few small smiles thrown his way but in that quiet way of hers that he still loved.

She rested her head on his shoulder, her eyes on the screen now too.

“Is it another typical slasher?” She asked in a monotone,

“No...”

“Oh?”

“Okay, it is but it’s really good!” He squeaked, turning to beam at her.

Raven playfully rolled her eyes but gave him a ghost of a smile before she shook her head. He was such a child sometimes; a happy little puppy, getting excited over the little things but she knew, in her heart of hearts, she wouldn’t trade him for anything.

“If you say so.” Raven mused,

“I do say so but...” He glanced at her, that pleading look that she was almost certain he had co conspired to create with Starfire. They both used it when they really wanted something, “We can still watch Elf after, right?”

She smirked, “I thought you were all for horror?”

“I am but... it’s only a week til Christmas and I wanna get all festive, Rae.” He explained,

One week until Christmas and for once, Gar was completely prepared. He’d bought all his gifts and even wrapped them with Starfire’s help of course; she loved this time of year and always took the responsibility of wrapping presents wherever she was given permission.

His girlfriend’s presents were inevitably what he set out to buy first. He’d bought her the regular stuff he knew she liked and enjoyed receiving; new novels, candles, herbal tea gift sets; all of those types of gifts, she asked for.

But, he’d managed to be sneaky this year and buy her something she wouldn’t be expecting. In recent years, she’d let her hair grow long, past her shoulders to the point she had it as long as Starfire’s had been back when they were merely teenagers.

So, in accordance, he had stumbled across a gothic boutique in central Jump which sold combs. Gar had found a matching pair of obsidian hair combs with small raven detailing on them. They had a slight shimmer to them but not enough where she would be put off; at least he hoped she wouldn’t be.

Upon seeing them, Gar knew he had to have them for her and he was praying that she loved them.

He had some confidence in his soul though; showing them to the surrogate sister of his heart proved comforting. She’d squealed and practically bounced on the spot.

Raven blinked at him but nodded, “We can watch it but if you try making me the spaghetti and maple syrup thing he makes in the movie again, I will burn the disc.”

He flashed that toothy grin of his, “I make no promises. He’s onto something with that recipe.”

She pulled a face of utter disgust, considering the first time he tried to do that which ended with Raven subsequently agreeing and gagging only seconds later. It tasted horrific and she was a terrible liar so she couldn’t even tell him it was good to spare his feelings.

Gar had merely chuckled and kissed her temple, already at the kettle, brewing a nice cup of steaming earl grey to rid her of the bad taste his concoction has left in her mouth.

Still, it was a funny memory to think back on.

Raven smiled quietly to herself as his eyes found the TV screen again, her hand resting just over his heart. She closed her eyes, letting the rhythmic thumping soothe her.

The changeling exhaled in content and leaned back against the couch cushions, enjoying the time being spent alone together. It was nice to live in a house with the team, even after all this time but sometimes, a night alone for just the two of them is all they really craved.

Cyborg and Bee had been down in the garage for a solid few hours, working on upgrades for the T-Car that Vic had insisted his baby needed if she was to survive missions throughout the harsh winter weather.

But, Gar had assumed the ‘working’ had stopped a while ago if the soft jazz music drifting up from the ground floor was anything to go by.

Dick and Starfire were in bed, having managed to get Mar’i down for her bedtime early for once. She was bursting with excitable energy so it made nightly routines difficult when all she wanted to do was float and play with her family and toys.

They’d claimed they were going to sleep but Gar could hazard a guess at what they were more likely doing within their bedroom. They didn’t get much time for themselves as a couple either now, with their little bundle of joy around.

A single moment of peace and quiet for them was utter bliss and Dick and Starfire tried hard to make the most of those moments so the shape shifter couldn’t really blame the parents if they were trying to connect in that way.

As the couple lounged together on the sofa in comfortable silence, a startling gasp from Gar roused Raven from her lethargic position against him. She bolted upright, snapping her head to him,

“What? What’s wrong?” She fretted, her eyes sweeping over him to check.

His face was not one of fear or of panic however; it was one of barely concealed glee.

“Rae! Look!” He hissed, jumping to his feet and scurrying over to the gigantic windows adorning the back wall of the main room. He pointed outside and she had to squint, not having a clue what he was babbling about.

“What?” She asked, pulling her cloak around her as she stood up.

“It’s snowing!” He breathed, his emerald eyes sparkling with exhilaration,

“So?” Raven shrugged,

“Like a lot! It’s gonna settle fast!”

“Again... so what?”

“Raaae!” He whined, rolling his eyes at her not connecting the dots with that beautiful brain of hers.

“What, Gar?”

“We have to go out in it!” He squeaked,

Raven’s eyes went wide and she flinched beneath her cloak, “What?! Are you insane? It’s 2am. We’ll catch our deaths.”

He turned to look at her, smirking as he wriggled his eyebrows, “I’m sure you can heal us before it gets to that, babe.”

Raven blushed at the pet name, as she always tended to but she folded her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes, “Gar-”

“Please, Rae? Snow is my favorite and it’s never like this in the mornings! It’s all slushy or iced over and no fun.”

She watched him, that buzzing aura, similar to that of childlike wonder being the only energy she could currently feel. It washed over her; calmed her emotions and allowed her to be more relaxed in what he was suggesting.

Her silly boy was an oddity and a rarity.

Raven chewed her lip before she shook her head and sighed, “10 minutes on the roof and then we come back inside. Got it?”

“Definitely!” Gar vowed, snatching her hand and pulling her along for the ride as he bounded out of the main room in the direction of the stairs leading to the roof.

When they reached the top of the staircase, Gar threw open the metal door whilst Raven watched with dry amusement as his expression softened into one of pure awe.

As a particularly frozen gust of wind passed by them, Raven tugged her cloak around her body so tight; her fingers went a light shade of white. Garfield, on the other hand, hopped out onto the fresh, powdered snow that lay across the rooftop like a blanket, leaving a trail of sneaker imprints.

He turned around in a circle and stuck his tongue out, trying to taste the falling snowflakes. That boyish grin of his was plastered across his lips, looking extremely satisfied each time he heard the snow crunch beneath his own feet.

“Look at all the snow, Rae!” He chirped, crouching down to leave an indent of his hand print in the bed of snow.

“Mhm. It’s great. And cold. Can we go back inside now?” She asked, tonelessly,

Gar rolled his eyes at her before he jogged back to where she still stood in the doorway. He smirked and wriggled his fingers at her,

“C’mon… y’know you want to.”

She pulled a face, “I really don’t.”

“Please? Just for a while and then we’ll go inside. I promise.” He glanced at his wrist to mimic a watch, “You said 10 minutes, remember?”

“Gar, it’s freezing…” She muttered, kicking some snow away from the door.

“I can warm you up.” He replied in a smooth guy voice,

She gave him a look but couldn’t help the corners of her lips quirking upwards into a smile.

Gar beamed and gently tugged on her hand, “That’s my Rae.”

She sighed and followed him out onto the roof, glancing down at her boots that were already covered with snow. Raven inwardly cursed at the things she did for this boy of hers; 2am and here she was, standing on the roof of the tower with him, just to play in the snow.

“Why are you so amazed by this, Gar?” She wondered aloud as she noticed him bent over and rolling up the body of a snowman, “You’ve seen snow plenty of times.”

“I know…” He chuckled, “And I always get this excited; just none of you ever see it. I know the guys would make fun if they did but… this time of year… I don’t know… acting like a kid and getting excited over the little things… it just seems right, y’know?”

Raven watched him, feeling the drop in his euphoria as he continued talking.

“I know it’s stupid but… well, none of us really had a normal childhood so I guess… I kinda try to make up for it now, like freaking out over snow… I know I probably don’t- Oof!” He was cut off as a snowball hit him on the shoulder, the snow splattering over the rest of his arm, the already melted thing dribbling down his skin.

He flinched, completely off guard and spun around to see his smirking empath, already holding another snowball encased in her magic. She raised an eyebrow, “Well, we now have 8 minutes. I suppose you better make the most of it.”

A slow, wide grin spread over his lips and he furrowed his eyebrows in determination, “Aw, you’re so going down, babe!”

“Uh huh. We’ll see.” She remarked, letting the snowball fly as he ducked to start building up his own artillery.

They continued the snow assault on one another, quiet laughter bubbling up into the night sky as they chased each other across the frosted roof. Raven didn’t even notice that they had been out there for 30 minutes rather than her stern 10 until Gar sniffled and sneezed several times in a row.

Pausing, she dropped her snowball to the ground and frowned at him with worry shining in her eyes. He snuffed and rubbed his nose as she stalked closer to him.

He offered her a smile and shrugged, “I’m good-”

“No you’re not.”

“Rae, I swear; I’m fine!” He squeaked, not wanting to end their fun in the snow; he loved so much when she allowed herself to be free and just enjoy herself, no matter how silly or kid like the activity was.

She allowed her hand to glow a periwinkle blue and pressed it to his chest, silencing him.

Raven clicked her tongue and her brows knitted together, “You’re getting sick.”

“Rae-“

“You should have grabbed a coat.”

He laughed as she grabbed his shoulders and turned him towards the door, “Raven-“

“C’mon… we’ve been out here way longer than 10 minutes anyway.” She told him,

Gar clicked his fingers, “Aww, I hoped you wouldn’t notice.” He mumbled, whilst Raven rolled her eyes at him and led him down the stairs, closing the roof door behind her.

The changeling continued to sniffle and scrub at his red tipped nose as they made their way back down into the main room. As they crossed the threshold, they froze at the sight of another person in the kitchen.

“What’re you guys doing?” Dick asked, his blue eyes narrowed at them in utter bewilderment,

He stood by the counter wearing a pair of sweats and a white t-shirt with a glass of water in hand.

“Uh…” Raven thought for an answer but came up empty so Gar saved them with the truth.

Taking her hand in his own, Gar grinned at their friend and leader, “It snowed, dude!”

Dick briefly glanced over at the windows, noticing the thick snowflakes falling and sticking to the glass before melting and rolling down the panes.

“Oh yeah… so it has…” He noted, “So, you were playing in the snow?”

Gar rubbed the back of his head, “Yeah!”

Dick chuckled and took a sip of water, shaking his head at their antics. Gar shuffled his feet and looked like he was about to brush it aside and make a joke out of himself.

Raven, however, was quicker to comment, “It’s... actually really fun.”

The dark haired vigilante raised an eyebrow at her whilst Gar looked incredulously at her; not believing she had actually said that.

“I thought you hated the snow, Raven.” Dick pointed out,

She shrugged and gazed at Gar, “It helps you to feel calm and carefree; like being a kid again.”

The shape shifter felt a warmth spread across his chest where his heart lay, his stomach fluttering and he was reminded of one of the many reasons he fell in love with Raven.

She liked to tease and make fun of him but when she knew it was something close to his heart or something that ran deeper, she made a point of supporting him, no matter how minor a thing it was.

“Hm... never really looked at it that way.” Dick replied, stifling a yawn,

Gar smiled and gently pressed his lips to Raven’s cheek, making her blush a faint pink.

“Actually, Dick... I was hoping that maybe tomorrow... I could take Mar’i out to play in the snow? Y’know since... she hasn’t really experienced it yet... I thought she might be all amazed over it.”

Dick paused and pulled his drink away from his lips, considering before he nodded and smiled softly at his friend, “Sure, Gar.” He paused and eyed the green jokester’s lack of outerwear, “Just... make sure she is warm. She’s too little to be going out there without a coat on.”

Gar chuckled sheepishly whilst Raven furrowed her eyebrows, “Too little? You know she’s temperature resilient like Star, right?”

“Obviously but I still don’t like chancing her getting cold.” Dick retorted, in his ‘dad’ voice,

Grinning, Gar pouted, “Aw, papa Dick so worried.”

Dick rolled his eyes and put his now empty glass back into the basin on the counter, “Obviously. She’s my daughter, after all.”

Raven quirked a tiny smile, “Mhm... we know.”

Their leader shook his head and passed them, kissing Raven’s forehead and high fiving Gar as he moved, “Night guys. See you in the morning.”

“Night, Dick.” The couple replied in unison,

Gar watched Raven out of the corner of his eye for a long moment before he gently took her hands in his,

“Thanks for that, Rae.” He murmured,

“Thanks for what?” She asked, her eyes flicking from his jade ones to his lips,

“Being onside with the child, carefree thing...”

She gifted him with one of her rare, serene and signature Raven smiles,

“Snow has never really been important to me... but if it’s important to you...” She trailed off, lifting her chin slightly more,

Gar smirked and leaned down, brushing his nose against hers before pressing his forehead to hers. Raven closed her eyes and exhaled calmly before her eyes snapped open again,

“If you sneeze on me right now-” She was cut off by Gar’s throaty chuckle,

“Guess you better kiss me before that happens then, huh?”

“Why-”

He wrinkled his nose, “Uh oh, I feel a tickle-”

Instantly, he was silenced as Raven pressed her lips to his, allowing them to mold perfectly with Gar’s. Heat sparked through them, shooting along nerve endings and electrifying the calmness between them.

His hands found her waist whilst her arms wrapped around his neck, her fingertips brushing against the line of Gar’s jaw and eliciting fire in the wake of where she touched.

Gar pulled back and sucked in a gasp, that flicker of excitement in his eyes. Raven smiled and leaned her forehead against his once again,

“I’m still cold.” She muttered,

“Oh-“

“So... why not follow through with that comment earlier about warming me up?” She breathed, her cheeks flushing red with her suggestion.

Gar blinked at her for a moment before he broke into a wide grin, “I can do that!” He squeaked, already taking her by the hand and leading her out of the main room.

As they moved, Gar realized that as much fun as the snow outside was, being inside with Raven was where he wanted to be. Always.

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