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lukehemmiings · 2 years

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* Quarantine, Calum Hood

( 2,6k words, pretty smutty and unedited work )

Quarantine, no one knew what to do. After Calum and I moved in together a year ago, we were pretty much busy with work. I needed to study for work, since I was a teacher and gave a lot of online classes and Calum and the boys were hanging with their fourth Album CALM. We had strict plans, as well as during the lockdown. It was another stressful day, when I came home from grocery shopping. The stores full with people and everyone was just rude and thankfully Crystal and I needed stuff from the store, so she drove with me.

"Calum, I'm back!" I yelled through the house, when Duke jumped from the couch and ran up to me, barking happily and jumping around my leg. I laughed, going to the kitchen and putting the bags on the table, where Calum and I usually had breakfast or ate dinner. Heavy steps from downstairs were audible, when Calum jogged downstairs and smiled softly. I asked him to clean the dishes, so when I turned around, I saw the dirty dishes and sigh.

"Calum," I started, but he broke me off. "Y/n, I know. I forgot it, I'll do it now, okay?" he kissed my cheek and turned to the dishes. I felt mad for some reason and when I tend to get mad, I usually stop interacting with people, so that's what I did. I put the groceries in their place and went into the bedroom, where I got undressed and grab a pair of Calum's shirts, which was long enough so I just wore that.

Going downstairs with a book in my hand, I ignored Calum, who sat next to me and wrapped his arms around me. "Talk to me, love." he mumbles, kissing my jaw. "Hi." I reply and he sighs. "Babe, you know what I mean. I know you're mad." the bassist begged, but I only shrugged. "Don't you think that I have every right to be mad, Calum?" I asked, making him cock his eyebrows up. "What? No. It was just a work of ten minutes and,"

"You don't get it, Calum! I'm the one who's constantly cleaning this house! You just excuse yourself for meetings, interviews or after dinners I would like to ask you, how your day ways, but Mr. Hood goes downstairs, for solid three hours, plays his bass and comes back, when I'm in my office, teaching!" I snap and put the book away, making him groan.

"Y/n, again?" he snarls, getting up as well. "Yes, Calum. Again. Because do you know how horrible I feel?" I yelled and punched against his chest, which made him roll with his brown eyes. "You feel horrible? Y/n, I don't know if you noticed but the world doesn't spin around you!" he yells and I literally stumbled back. "You... you know what I mean."

"So you mean I'm selfish?" I stiffened a bitter laugh, making him whine. "Yes... what? No! I'm just as exhausted as you are!" he snaps and I roll with my eyes. "Yeah, because everything spins around Calum Hood right?" I hiss and tried to leave the room. I wanted to go to the kitchen, at least I could calm myself down with cooking.

"Oh, no. You aren't getting out of this, y/n!" with that, Calum picks me up, his arms wrapped around my body, causing my throat to let a yelp. "Calum, let me fucking down!" I snap and punch against his back. Calum's arms were around my thighs, while the shirt riddled up and I was pretty sure he saw my black lace panties.

"You wanted my attention? There you get it, brat." with that he threw me on the bed and pulled his shirt off. "Calum," I tried to say at least something, because I needed a civil discussion about this, but Mr. Hood had other plans, he grabbed the hem of my - technically his - shirt and pulled it over my body, exposing my half naked state.

"You're being such a bitch lately, do you know that, y/n?" his lips spread sloppy kisses on my neck and I closed my eyes. "Calum, we need to- fuck." I felt his teeth digging into my skin, making me moan and I knew he was grinning. Cocky bastard. "I should punish you, shouldn't I? For acting like a brat for the last couple months." his hands were cold on my warm skin, slowly touching the back lace of my bra. "Up." I obeyed, letting him unclasp my bra and throw it across our bedroom.

"But don't worry, kitten. I'll put you back in your place." his devilish grin made me feel somewhat more aroused. My heart was beating against my ears and I whine. "Calum," again, he cut me off. "Shut up, I'm trying to give you what you want." he growls and I grasp his wrist. "Calum, all I'm trying to get from you is not just attention!" I let out a frustrated cry, feeling my sight getting blurry. "I'm trying to get you to love me! Talk to me, clean this house with me, take walks with me!" I sobbed and Calum's face expressions soften down.

"Believe me, I get it: you're upset and mad, that this pandemic is really taking all the chances of having real band meetings and the writing process is hard, but please, please don't let me out. Calum, my god, I'm your girlfriend." feeling his tanned and muscular arms around me, I wanted nothing but cry.

"Why didn't you told me that you felt that way, baby? I would've done something against it." he whispers and I scoot only closer to him, cuddling onto his chest, looking at the ink prints. "We constantly fought." I replied and he sighed. "I'm so sorry, princess. You know how much I love you. And you're right, I am upset and frustrated and I sort of let it out on you, when we have sex or in general fights." his cheeks reddened and he cupped my cheeks.

"Can I make love you to you?" he whispers, his lips softly running across my jaw. "Y-yes, please." my quiet voice was hoarse from the yelling before, but Calum doesn't seem to mind. "God, I love you so much. Don't say it back, just take it, okay? I know how much you love me." he smile softly, pecking on my lips, before he runs his hand down my body, kneading my breasts in his large hands. I arched my back, knowing that he loves it when I do that, just because I love feeling his hands on my body.

My eyes flutter shut, Calum's lips slowly going over my neck, down to the gap between my breasts. "So, so pretty." he murmurs against my skin, leaving me utter shock, not in a bad way, I just never really slowed down with him. Calum really knew which buttons to push, to make me a little wreck for him. I bite my lower lip, chewing on it, which made Calum stop.

"I want to hear you, every little whimper. Please, let me hear you, baby." he mumbles, his lips reconnecting at the gap between my breasts. He took his time and he knew I was impatient, when I got in the mood, which I was. My hands were in Calum's curls, pulling on them, because I really needed him to go to the spot where I needed him the most.

"Please, Calum- I need you. I want you so bad." a loud moan escaped my throat and Calum pants slowly. "You want me to eat you out, don't you?" he rasps, softly sucking on my nipple, before he releases the one to give as much attention to the other one.

"I want you to do anything with me, C-Calum!" I whine, my toes curling into the blanket. "Ah, ah, I want to hear it from you, baby. What should I do to you, hmm?" his voice was shades deeper, as I bucked my hips against his. Calum groaned, looking up to me. "Touch me." not giving a fuck of the pathetic state I was in, I heard his chuckle. His hips still met mine, making me moan loudly.

"You like that? Want me to fuck you like that, princess?" his brown eyes were almost black and I loved it. He looked just like a sex god. I wasn't capable of responding, I was just under him, my eyes almost shut and my mouth open, at his prominent bugle in his boxershorts, while my boyfriend just asked me how I wanted. Oh, Calum was so good at this.

"Fucking hell, god- Calum, please! I want you to fuck me up. Use me, eat me out, everything! But please, for the love of god, stop the teasing!" when I cried that out, the bassist grabbed my wrist, pushing it down his tanned and muscular stomach. We both sat up, my hand on the waistband of his boxershorts, pulling on it, when I felt his bulge pressing against his stomach. I let the band slap against his stomach, causing Calum to groan.

"This is how you wanna play now, darling?" his hand cupped my chin, while I only looked as innocent as I could. "I didn't do anything to you." I smile innocently at him and start to hump him, through his boxershorts. "Sure you didn't, pretty girl." Calum tugged his bottom lip between his teeth, watching me cautiously. "God, I love you so much." he whispers, caressing my cheek. "I love you too, Calum." I whispered back.

I may felt sorry for him or I may needed him as much as he did, so I pulled his boxershorts down, letting his erection stand up. "Wanna fuck you up, so bad." he mumbles, in between the kisses and all the sucked up words, we shared. It was a passionate, yet soft and deep make out session. "Then do it, Calum. Fuck me up." the second I said that, I was flipped over to my stomach, feeling Calum's prominent bulge against my still clothed cunt.

"So wet and all fucking mine." he didn't even bothered taking my panties out. There was for sure a damp spot, caused by the one and only Calum Thomas Hood. His hands knew which placed he had to touch. Calum put my hair on the one side of my shoulders, just to kiss my exposed shoulder.

"Please,"

"Baby, you don't even know what you're asking for. The more you beg, the more I know you can't handle it." Calum rasps, making me whine in answer. Whatever I was begging for, I want it. I need it. "I don't care- fuck, I- I need you to touch me, Calum." I whimpered, making him chuckle. His lips spread hot and sloppy kisses on my back, as he pulled my panties to the sides, leaving them still on. The cold air blew against my soaking wet cunt, making Calum groan.

"I fucking feel how wet you are, baby." his grin was like a print on my back and I felt it. He rubs his tip against my slit and I whine, almost falling on my face, because he knew what to do to make me crazy.

"Look what you've done to me - look what you're cunt has done to me." Calum whimpers at the feeling. He always whimpered, before he fucked me like crazy. "Fuck no, get those off." his growl made me hum. He literally tears that lace panties from my skin, before he enters me, fully. I cry out in pleasure, clenching around his hard cock. A line of cuss words left our mouths and I felt him moving slow and deep.

"That cunt was made for me and fucking me only." not gonna lie, it was hot and it made me wetter, the more he praised me when we had sex. I lift myself up, leaning against Calum's chest, feeling him everywhere at once. His hands were on my breast, cupping them and playing with them roughly. I whined, my head resting against his shoulder.

The thing was, right in front our bed, was the wardrobe with a huge body mirror. Calum loved fucking in front of it. Not that I had something against it. I loved it as well. The way he praised us, whenever he looked at our picture made me feel special, because I know, that I'm the only person he's doing this.

"Wanna look at how good I'm fucking you, baby?" Calum's rough thrusts made me whimper, almost fall back on my face. One hand slides on my throat, but it doesn't stay there, he parts my lips apart softly, letting his pointer and middle finger into my mouth. "My pretty girl, look at you." Calum's deep snarl made me shiver. I hum, a loud - like loud moan escaped from me. His hand slowly traveled down, rubbing my clit with harsh movements.

"Calum, I'm- fuck, fuck!" I couldn't even finish my sentence, when I heard a deep groan. Our eyes fixed on each other's bodies, while Calum's fingers moved relentlessly against my clit, making me let out a high moan. The feeling of his hand on me and his cock in me, made me cry in pleasure and I knew what to expect. Despite the fact, that Calum and I hadn't sex for a long time. One hand was around his wrist, the other one was in his curls, pulling on it and letting his head fall back followed by many groans and begs not to stop.

"D-don't fucking dare to stop. Fuck me, you sound so good." he praises and I look into his eyes, through the mirror, ignoring the pain that rushes through me, since I'm holding back. "Stay with me, baby. I know." he whispers into my ear, kissing my jaw, but never stops looking into my eyes, over the mirror.

"Oh, fuck, C-Calum. Oh my God," I wasn't even able to talk, because Calum literally fucked me up. "Holy shit, baby. You take me so well." Calum's movements got sloppier and I whimpered. "P-please, faster. I'm so close." I beg, just ignoring how pathetic I sound. "C'mon, baby, make yourself cum on my cock." Calum sat on the mattress, so he slide out off of me, making me whimper. Facing him with my back, just to look at our mirror, I sat back on his cock, started bouncing immediately.

My eyes were on the picture, the mirror was reflecting, Calum looked at it too. "Cum for me, kitten. I want you to cum so badly on my hard cock. Milk it, fucking hell." he groans, gripping into my hips harshly. I relaxed, letting my orgasm wash me over and watching my legs shake next to Calum's thighs. Letting out loud cries and crying Calum's name in loop, I couldn't seem to calm down. I wanted this so bad.

"Oh, kitten- I'm gonna-"

His hand pinched my sides, as he shoots his warm cum into me. I groaned, letting a loud and high moan out. We both rode our highs out, as Calum pulled himself out and I got up, cuddling on his chest, listening to his fast heartbeat. Calum wrapped the blanket around our bodies, pulling me as close as possible.

"I'm glad the bed is still not broken, to be honest." I grin and turn to Calum, who smiles cheesily. "Just say it and I'll fuck you until this bed breaks." he teases, but pecks on my lips. "I love you and I'm sorry for letting you out." he whispers then and I smile softly, playing gently with his locks. "I love you too, Calum."

[ As you can see, I’m a Calum girl ]

#calum hood smut #calum 5sos #calum hood

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rainydaydream-gal18 · 3 years

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(TFATWS) Bucky x Reader: Protective- Part 1

(Author’s Note: I watched TFATWS and loved it. So here we are).

The tension had finally fizzled out an hour or so into the trip- at least for a little while.

Your consulting criminal, Zemo, made himself comfortable as soon as he set foot on the jet. He was leaning back in his seat across from you, looking very pleased as he read a book and took an occasional sip from his champagne glass. His contented demeanor had visibly affected both of your friends, Sam and Bucky, causing their irritation with him to skyrocket earlier. But after some of the confrontations concerning Bucky’s inherited notebook from Steve, Sam’s music, and Zemo’s observations of you, things had finally calmed down.

He was a crafty one. He knew how to push buttons, knew exactly what to say to trigger each individual’s weak points. Things had begun to escalate especially when Zemo turned his attention to you. His piercing gaze had you frozen in place as he made inquiries. While he didn’t ask anything outwardly uncomfortable, the probing questions about your life were starting to make you uneasy.

The other two males didn’t take too kindly to Zemo’s attempts at conversation with you. Bucky stared out the window with his jaw clenched. At one point, Sam let out an exasperated sigh, causing the criminal to halt mid-sentence. He leaned over to raise his brow at you diagonally across the aisle of the jet. “_________, is he bothering you?”

You didn’t have to speak: the look on your face said it all, and Sam shifted in his seat again to look over at Zemo. “Alright, that’s enough.” His tone was firm and leaving no room to question.

Directly across the aisle from you to your right, Bucky’s shoulders relaxed when Zemo followed Sam’s command. The jet had fallen silent except for the muffled whirring sounds of its mechanics.

You pretended to skim through a magazine that you’d found laying on a tray. With one hour down and twelve more to go on the flight, you felt the need to unwind a bit. Everything had happened so fast from the moment you agreed to go with your friends to Berlin to see Zemo. After Thanos’ horrible plan came to an end, things heated up when John Walker went public as “the new Captain America.” He’d even offered you a place working with him since you were part of Team Cap back in the day. You declined, of course, and found yourself even more determined to help Sam and Bucky.

You were happy for Steve. You were. It was still hard to have him gone. For years, ever since the Avengers broke apart over the Sokovia Accords and Bucky’s framing, you’d followed Steve. Even before then, when it was discovered that Hydra had been infiltrating SHIELD, you’d left the broken agency to join him as he continued his fight against threats to the world

You hadn’t imagined that you and the others would be left to keep fighting without him.

“You in the market for a new grill?”

You were drawn from your deep thought to a set of dark blue eyes that looked from you to the magazine page that you hadn’t turned in at least ten minutes. You chuckled and closed the magazine, playing along. “Yes, I figured with all this extra time, I’d do a little shopping.”

The corner of Bucky’s mouth twitched up in a brief show of amusement. You rose from the seat to go to his side, kneeling down beside his chair.

“Why does he even have this?” You lowered your voice as you glanced at the eccentric baron, setting the magazine back down onto the tray. “You’d think there would be more European fashion magazines or something.”

Bucky’s eyes flickered to the man in question before leaning in to speak in an equally quiet tone. “I have to admit. We lucked out with him. Not only does he have a lead, but he’s got private transportation so we can stay under the radar.”

“I think we made the the right choice going to him,” you replied.

“We can only hope,” he muttered. “Seriously though, what were you thinking about when you zoned out?”

“Oh.” You averted your gaze, playing with the hem of your jacket. You didn’t want to delve into your train of thought. It was plain as day that Bucky and Sam were both dealing with Steve’s departure in their own ways, and you didn’t want to add to it or open up any healing wounds. So, you settled on being vague. “Just...everything.”

He seemed to know what you meant anyway. The silence that followed made guilt gnaw in your chest, but before you could say anything, Bucky spoke.

“Hey,” he nudged you with his shoulder, making you meet his gaze again. His eyes had softened significantly and forehead smoothed in absence of the lines caused by furrowed brows. It was a nice change from the scowl he had since the mission started. “Sorry we dragged you into this.”

You dismissed the apology with a casual wave of your hand. “You guys didn’t drag me into anything. I was along for the ride from the beginning.”

A comfortable silence fell between you then. He returned to gazing out the window while you stood up and headed back to your seat, sinking into it and letting your head tip forward. You figured that a cat nap was in order since you hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before. All that business with an internationally-known criminal breaking out of prison had you on edge. With nothing but the sounds of occasional page-turning from Zemo’s book and Sam tapping his foot lightly to the beat of music he listened to on his phone with earbuds, sweet sleep claimed you in no time.

You were pulled from your dreamless slumber by voices, but your body wasn’t ready to respond just yet. The first thing you noticed was that you were leaning against something on your right side, your face resting on a soft material that held the scent of leather and cologne. Bucky’s scent. It must’ve been his jacket balled up to serve as a pillow. In fact, it was his voice rumbling closest to you.

“Stop looking at her like that.”

“Apologies, James, but I don’t know what you mean.” Zemo’s accented voice was quieter, but there was a sprinkle of amusement in his tone.

“You’re doing it right now.”

“Bucky, come on,” Sam interjected. “We managed to make it a few hours without killing the guy. Don’t let him get to you now.”

Zemo’s tone took on a new intensity, as if he was gripped by fascination. “You seem very protective of __________. The way you move around her is intriguing, as if prepared to defend her at a moment’s notice.”

“Don’t engage,” Sam warned in a low voice.

By now, you were almost fully awake. Despite the potentially awkward situation that Zemo was creating with the analysis of your friend, you figured it would be best to intervene. You shifted, blinking your eyes open.

“What’s going on?” you muttered, voice still a little rough from sleep. “It better be good because I haven’t slept that well in a while.” You lifted your head from Bucky’s jacket, eyes darting up to see him staring out the window again. “Sorry,” you muttered, brushing a bit of drool from his jacket before handing it back to him. He stole a glance in your direction again, not seeming to mind.

“No big deal. You needed the sleep.”

Bucky didn’t say another word, so you turned to Sam for answers. He shrugged with the shake of his head. “Zemo’s being... well, Zemo.”

You nodded in understanding, as if that simple phrase was all the explanation you needed. Zemo caught your gaze, the corners of his lips turning up a smile.

“As I mentioned before, we will have to go undercover to meet with Selby in Madripoor. I was merely thinking of disguises for you and Sam.”

He seemed like was telling the truth, but you didn’t doubt that he relished the added bonus of getting under Bucky’s skin in the process. While Bucky had been protective of you and those who chose to put themselves on the line to prove his innocence when it came to the UN bombing, you hadn’t expected him to be quite that defensive in this situation. As flattering as it was in some ways, it made you worry. Zemo knew what buttons to push. Would he eventually push a button to make things go his way? To forward some plan of his?

You got up to stretch and use the refresher. You took your time since there were still several hours left in the flight. Zemo had informed the group that upon landing, there would be limited window to get into costume and go over your characters before heading to Selby’s club.

- - - - - - -

“Only an American would assume that a fashion-forward black man looks like a pimp,” Zemo complained. You stole a glance at your friend who gave his outfit another displeased look. “You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.” He handed his phone over so Sam could get a look at his character’s picture.

“He even has a bad nickname. He does look like me, though.”

“And who am I supposed to be?” you asked, pulling the jacket over your form tighter. You wore a dark blue dress that went to your knees. The material was soft and had a subtle glimmer in the light, and the outfit was complete with a pair of black heels that clacked on the pavement with each step, a shiny silver bracelet, and the black jacket that you were glad to have in the chilly air. The group was walking to the halfway point of the bridge to be picked up.

“You will be my date,” Zemo replied casually.

You gave him an incredulous look. “Really? I’m just the date?”

He released a sigh before launching into explanation. “You don’t exactly resemble any crime bosses. Besides, it’s not uncommon for dates to come and go in this town. No one will be asking who you are. No one will expect what’s coming to them if we need to fight. You may have the greatest advantage out of all of us.”

As much as you hated to admit it, he had a point.

“Just remember to remain at my side at all times,” Zemo continued. “Make it look convincing that we are together.”

You refused to meet his amused look. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

A black car idled just ahead, and Zemo once more reiterated how important it was to stay in character. He told the group about High Town and Low Town, though you were a little distracted by the city lights reflecting off the water.

You squeezed into the backseat between Bucky and Sam. The ride was tense with only the sound of your breaths in the small space. Bucky stared straight ahead through the windshield even as motorcycles surrounded the car and escorted it the rest of the way. The car dropped you all off near the club, and Zemo held out his hand to help you out of the vehicle. He put an arm around your waist at a respectful level, but Bucky took one look and halted.

“Okay, this isn’t going to work,” Bucky snapped. Everyone’s eyes were on him.

Sincerity was written all over Zemo’s features as he responded. “I assure you, it will.” Suddenly, his eyes flickered with realization, though you glanced between the two men in confusion. “I know you don’t trust me, James, and I understand your discomfort. However, you are playing the part of the Winter Soldier. It is best if she remains inconspicuous as my date.”

“Wait, that’s what this is about?” Sam asked in disbelief. “Who ________ pretends to date?” Your eyes fell to the pavement. The situation was already unpleasant. The last thing you wanted was to bring confusing feelings into the mix while in the middle of an important mission.

Bucky began to protest. “No, I-”

“Relax,” Sam said, holding up his hands to show he meant no offense. “________, you can stay by me. Smiling Tiger can have a date, right?” He looked to Zemo for confirmation.

“Excellent idea.” He nodded in approval. “Just remember to stay in character. All of you.”

(Link to Part 2)

#the falcon and the winter soldier #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes x reader #tfatws #tfatws bucky #tfatws bucky x reader #mcu bucky x reader #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes imagine #the falcon and the winter soldier reader insert #bucky fanfic #bucky

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girl-of-many-fandoms · 3 years

Note

Hi would it be ok if I requested a smutty Jensen Ackles where she and Jensen see each other again and they fall for each other all over again after years apart ?

I Missed You

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Warnings: Smut with a plot (somewhat 😅), 18+ READERS ONLY, fingering,orgasm denial, cum play,daddy kink, unprotected sex (NO GLOVE NO LOVE PEOPLE!!! Stay safe)

To my parents, if y'all ever find this, I'm so sorry. Lord, God please forgive me for I have SINNED.

@lclb13 I hope you like it, thanks for requesting ❤️

GIF CREDITS TO THE OWNER

Part 2

MASTERLIST

———

"Jens mhm-" groaning you raked your fingers through the mass of hair on top of his head using his weakness to your advantage

"Fuck" Jensen grounded his hips into yours sending pleasurable shockwaves through your body with the friction created by his clothed crotch

Out of all the ways that you had imagined this night to be, this was most definitely what you had in mind. You didn't plan on bumping into your ex, Jensen today but the universe had different plans

Earlier on this morning you two had crossed paths in a nearby coffee shop. After breaking up nearly two years ago you accepted his invitation to sit and chat for a bit. You guys easily fell into conversation and you'd be lying if you said that a big part of you didn't miss having him around

You both kept echanging flirty looks as you both exchanged compliments like it was the first time of meeting one another. At some point during the conversation you hadn't realised how close your hands had gotten until his calloused fingers brushed against your hand. That one touch sparked something within you.

You both paused mid conversation, both waiting for the other to pull away but neither of you did, instead, he took a hold of your hand in larger one, brushing his thumb on the back of it, remebering how much you loved when he did that

That one conversation lead to you him inviting you out to a bar for drinks which fast forwarded to you lying on his couch while he dry humped you. Your lips molded together so perfectly as you both fought for dominance in the steamy kiss. The little shit unclipped your bra from the front and started rolling your perky nipples between his fingers

"Jens" you moaned and he took that opportunity to stick his tonge in your mouth, smirk playing on his lips knowing that he had won. Hooking your legs around his hips you lifted yours to meet his

"Too..much..clothes" your hands found the hem of his shirt, lifiting it to take it off of him. Jensen got the hint and sat up pulling his black shirt over his head before discarding it on the floor next to yours

"Pants off" you ordered licking your lips as you drooled over the sight of his well defined body. His muscles had gotten bigger than the last time and now he had a tattoo on his left bicep making him ten times attractive

The sound of his zipper being undone drew your attention downwards as he did as told. The tent in his boxers became more visable, your cunt clamped down aching to be filled by his cock

"See something you like" winking he leaned forward trailing open mouth kisses along the coloumn of your neck and colar bone, settling himself between your thighs again. His hands roamed your body as he reaquainted himself with it. His fingertips brushed every curve, every dip, every piece of flesh that was available to him until he reached the waistband of your lace panties. He looked down as he slipped his fingers in

"Fuck Y/N your cunt is dripping wet" he spread your slick through your folds and up to your clit drawing a breathless sigh from you

His lips attacked yours as he continued to play with the sensitive bud. Your hips bucked silently begging him to give you more but he refused, making you frustrated as he increased his movements

"What do you want kitten?" his dominant side came out to play and you knew it was going to be a long night

"Please Jensen" he halted his assault on your clit and you nearly cried from the loss of conatct

"You know damn well not to use my name kitten" his green eyes were darker than usual as he pinched your clit causing a sweet mixture of pain and pleasure

"I'm sorry daddy" the sound of fabric tearing filled the room and he dropped the ruien panties on the floor. A mischeavous look plastered itself on his face as he slipped two of his thick fingers your dripping cunt

"You will be" wasting no time he started thrusting his fingers into your needy pussy. You tried to grind yourself down on his hand but he held you in place with his free arm

Throwing your head back your moans filled the empty house along with the squelching sounds of your pussy. Jensen adjusted himself to be eye level with your cunt, using his free hand he started rubbing your clit making your toes curl

"Oh fuck! Right there, right there...FUCK DON'T STOP!" he continued his manic assault on you on a mission to have you cum on his fingers

"Look at you taking my fingers like the little slut that you are. Do you want to cum kitten?" he teased knowing that you were too far gone to respond cohearently. Your legs spread wider as your eyes rolled to the back of your head ready to release

Jensen picked up on your actions and immediately ripped his hand away, spanking your swollen cunt as you cried from being denied a release

"Not so fast kitten" he dragged his fingers through your slick a couple times before sliding three of them in this time

"Please daddy, please let me cum" you begged holding on to his forearm as he resumed his touture on you. He sped up and soon enough he had your back arching off the couch. You felt the familar knot forming and you knew that you were so close, your pussy squeezed down on his fingers

"Cum" screaming his name you felt a gush of your release and your hips bucked violently as he swiped his plam against your cunt coving the both of you in your own release

"Fuck yes, I still got it" he stuck his fingers in his mouth, sucking away your arousal before dipping them back into you slowly pumping a few times, this time he shoved them in your mouth and you eagerly licked them clean

Reaching to pull his boxers down to return the favour he stopped you in your tracks, standing up to do it himself. His massive cock slapped against his stomach, the angry red tip taunted you as it leaked precum

"As much I want those pretty lips wrapped around my cock I need to be inside of you" wasting no time he shifted your hips to hang off the edge of the couch, raising your leg up he lined the tip of his cock with your entrance before sliding into your pussy

"Shit your still tight" he kissed your calves as he started ramming his cock into you without giving you time to adjust to his size

"Oh fuck" your titts bounced with each brutal thrust of his hips. Jensen pushed your legs up to you chest leaning forward to capture your plump lips in a searing kiss

This new angle gave him more leverage to ram you full of his cock. He went deeper into you as if that was even possible. The sinful sound of skin slapping skin echoed through the house

Panting you raked your nails down his back, you were pretty sure there would be bruses tomorrow but for now neither of you seemed to care

The tip of his cock contined to plow into your g-spot with each thrust casing you to see stars. Your pussy started fluttering against him signalling that you were close to your second orgasm for the night and he breathlessly chuckled

"You gonna cum again" you nodded unable to speak as you clung to him for dear life. For the second time tonight he pulled out before flipping you on to your knees. You held yourself upright by holding on to the backrest of the couch. Jensen spead your legs wider before smacking your ass, not one, not twice but three times before thrusting into your dripping cunt again

You slipped your hand down to rub your clit but he swatted it away applying pressure to the swollen nub himself. He used his free hand to take a hold of your hair, pulling you up flush against him. Your eyes fell upon the big mirror on the wall opposite you as he continued to fuck you

Using that same hand he wrapped his fingers around your throat applying a bit of pressure as he held your gaze in the reflection. Your face was flushed from being fucked like the whore that you were for this man

"Look at daddy's cock kitten, look at how your sweet pussy is taking me so easily" you moaned fixing your gaze down to where your sweaty bodies connected. You could see your arousal dripping down his balls and on the insides of your thighs, that sight alone made you want to cum on sight but you know that if you did you wouldn't like the end result

"Don't even think about it sweetheart" he knew you like the back of his hands. Your eyes rolled to back of your head as he released your neck. His fingertips dug into your hips as his thrusts became sloppy

"I..I can't hold..it" your legs trembled from the intensity of the orgasm threatening to rip through you

"Cum on my cock" your screams bounced off the walls as you squirted for the second time. The sound of your juices hitting the hardwood floor was music to his ears as he rubbed your clit, cock still thrusting in and out of you

"Good girl" your toes curled, vision became hazy as Jensen continued to rub your sensitive clit chasing his release. He thrusted into you one last time before stilling completely

His warm seed filled your needy cunt, smacking your ass in the process coming down from his high. Jensen removed his softening cock from your pussy and you both watched in delight as his cum leaked from your abused hole

You ran your fingers through his sticky release before sucking them clean as he looked at you in the mirror, enjoying the salty taste of it. He turned you to face him, lips meeting together in a short but passionate kiss

"I missed you Y/N"

"I missed you too Jens"

#jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles one shot #jensen ackles imagine #jensen ackles smut #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagine #deanwinchtser #dean winchester smut #supernatural x reader #supernatural imagine #supernatural

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ashes-in-a-jar · 3 years

Text

The Purrfect Alternative

Premise: Why would there be a cat in the archives? An archive cat fixit.

2.7K words

Rated G

(Tw: A bit of violence but it's against Jurgen Leitner)

This is a fic dedicated to the @jonsimsandcats event! Hope you enjoy it :)

"Sorry, you haven't seen a cat, have you?"

Jon gaped at the larger man who suddenly barged into the office.

"I-I'm sorry, a what?"

"Uh, a cat, tabby I think." The man hurriedly explained.

"No. No I haven't. Is it.. Supposed to be here?" Jon knew book shops sometimes kept cats. Perhaps archives did as well. Maybe Gertrude had a soft spot in her after all.

"N-no actually. I, uh, I was feeding it on the way in but when I got up with my things, well, my hands were full you see, so when I managed to open the door it sort of slipped in with me? I'm so sorry, I have to find it before-"

"Okay okay calm down, stop." Jon held up his hand and let out a sigh. First day of the promotion and he's already stressed. But it's fine. He's fine. He can handle a cat. He's good with cats.

"Where do you work? Upstairs? Are you sure it came down here?"

"Yes, I saw it. And I just started working down here today? I'm Martin. Blackwood." He offered a hand. Jon automatically took it. Big and soft. He let go a bit too quickly and coughed.

"Work here? Are you certain?"

"Yes, I'm supposed to let Jonathan Sims know about becoming an archival assistant. He's the head archivist Elias told me to talk to."

"Well that's one thing to cross off your list." Jon smirked. "I'm Jonathan Sims. Jon, if you please. And Elias did not mention you. Tim and Sasha were supposed to be the only new recruits." Jon frowned to himself. He'll have to have a word with Elias about this. It's fine now that it happened but keeping Jon updated could really help in preventing these kinds of awkward introductions with people he's supposed to work closely with.

"O-oh! Well, here I am now too." Martin chuckled nervously, fidgeting with the hem of his jumper.

Jon hummed "So you are I suppose. Well, let's not waste time on trivial matters, there is a cat that needs to be found." Jon got up from his chair.

"O-oh god, you're right. I'm so sorry for this." The other man apologized, remembering why he was there in the first place. It was clear that he now realized that the fact that the person he's asking to help him clear up his mess is his new boss could be very problematic for him. Jon easily sympathized with that kind of familiar pressure.

"It's alright, let's just, get this sorted." Jon was not willing to admit that a part of him was also just looking forward to seeing the cat. It would help distract him from his own stress, as it were.

Ten minutes later the two of them sitting on the floor in the stacks with a chubby tabby cat sprawled on Jon's lap. Jon was petting it affectionately while amicably getting acquainted with his new assistant. The man turned out to be a library veteran with useful cataloging skills that could help with the mess that was left down here. Having calmed down considerably, Martin had stopped fidgeting and was cooing at the cat who was head butting his large palm. Their presence soothed Jon in a way that surprised him. In the tranquil, quiet atmosphere of the stacks, sounds of cat purrs and Martin's low murmurs, he felt almost optimistic that despite his lack of experience and the large task ahead of them, he would be alright.

-------

Paper meowed loudly behind him as Martin hurried down the tunnel with Jon and Tim at his tail. Martin glanced back as he reached an intersection and noticed they were too far behind, Jon limping on his injured foot. He hesitated, stopping and waiting for them to catch up. Paper came up and rubbed his leg before trotting down the tunnel on the right, tail held high and confident. Martin inhaled deeply to catch his breath, starting to walk again, this time more slowly. They managed to leave most of the fast worms behind and the ones down here were few and sparse enough to easily stomp down individually. Paper was making a game out of it. He kept leaping onto some that crawled ahead of them, squishing them loudly with his paw.

Jon and Tim caught up and the three followed Paper down the dark passage.

"Yeah, get the damn crawlers." Slurred Tim. The CO2 he inhaled was not helping his coherency.

"You know," gasped Jon, "I actually think they're larvae, given Jane's statement and-"

"Jon, I'm going to have to ask you to stop now." Martin said, as calmly as he could, his voice a tad too high and loud.

"... Sorry." Jon said sheepishly.

They followed Paper down the forking paths, hoping the cat knew where in the seven circles of hell they were.

Eventually they stopped seeing any worms as the path sloped up, ending in a sudden door. There was daylight filtering in from beneath it. Paper was eagerly pawing at it.

"Uh, I think we found a secret way out of the institute." Martin could hardly believe their luck.

"Excellent, now I can ditch work and no one will know I even left." Tim mumbled.

"Tim, if you wanted to succeed in that endeavor, you should have not said that next to your boss." Jon commented dryly.

The worm threat no longer being imminent, Martin allowed himself a nervous chuckle.

They pushed at the door and with a bit of group effort, eventually managed to pry it open into fresh air. They came out into a narrow alleyway which turned out to be not far from the institute. As they walked (limped) down the street to find access to a working phone they heard someone cry out.

"Jon? Tim? Martin!" They spotted Sasha hurrying towards them, carrying heavy bags of cat food.

"Sasha! You're okay!" Martin exclaimed. "We were worried you'd get back and be caught in it like Tim had."

"Where have you been?" Jon inquired, straining to stand upright on his own. Martin came closer, gently supporting him by the hip on the opposite side of Tim.

"We ran out of food for Paper, I figured I'd pop by the store for a moment to get some." Sasha said. "I came back when the building was being evacuated."

"Oh good, at least the alarm worked." Tim said tiredly.

"What in god's name happened to you three?" She inquired worriedly.

"Prentiss, we'll fill you in later. We need to make sure the ECDC is informed regarding the CO2 in the fire suppression system that needs to be activated."

"And get you to a hospital." Martin chastised, squeezing Jon's side.

"Yes yes." Jon waved dismissively but all the while leaning further into Martin's side. He really wasn't discreet, Martin thought smugly.

Sasha was about to say something else when a loud meow interrupted her. Paper was nosing into the bag, fully aware of its contents and who they were meant for.

Jon dislodged from Martin and Tim and hobbled towards the cat.

The cat turned and moved back into Jon's welcoming arms, as the archivist picked him up and stroked him fondly.

"We are lucky on all accounts that Paper is such a smart cat." He murmured into the soft fur, injury forgotten for the moment.

Tim chuckled, "cats always ruin evil people's plans, it's a well known fact. Anyway, Sasha, please call an ambulance for us?" He said, and promptly sat on the floor.

Martin sighed with relief. For now, they are all safe and together. And that's all that matters.

-------

It was all almost too much to take in. Luckily Paper was held tight in his arms as he listened to Jurgen Leitner ramble on about powers and fears and monsters and Jonah Magnus. He had been chased by a distorted form of his boss, who was apparently replaced by a monster Jon and the crew tried and failed to destroy, thus separating in the ensuing pursuit. In light of these events Jon now needed something soft to ground him in the face of so much new information.

The discovery of Elias' death was a shock, especially given the fact that apparently it happened when he was trapped in artifact storage during the Prentiss siege a half a year back.

He (that is, his doppelganger) told them back then that he was trying to reach the suppression system switch when he tripped down the stairs over one of Paper's many scattered toys, alerting Jane in the process and was driven back into the storage area. His account seemed to check out given he was rescued from there by the ECDC after Jane was dealt with. And given the few toys strewn about the stairs leading to artifact storage. Why Paper kept scattering his toys all over the building was beyond Jon but that wasn't the main issue at hand. After trapping the creature in the walls of the tunnels, Jurgen Leitner proceeded to reveal himself. Once Jon dragged him back to his office, and picked the protesting Paper up to calm himself down, he unveiled the truth of Elias', or Jonah's, whole operation.

Turns out Jonah Magnus decided life was too short to enjoy once and did exactly what eventually happened to him. Talk about karma. Leitner explained that Gertrude's plan was to stop Jonah from... Something he was planning. Perhaps a ritual to end the world in a way the others would fail to do. That bit of information was on a tape of Gertrude which Leitner played for Jon. By the time they reached the part where Leitner said, “they needed to kill Jonah's main body then burn down the archives.” Martin, Tim and Sasha had arrived back at the office as well.

"Jon? Jon! Are you okay?" Martin rushed forward, hugging Jon tightly, ignoring Paper's loud yowling at being squished in between them. Jon sighed, "Martin, thank god. I-I'm fine." He hugged him back, relieved his boyfriend was safe, as well as his other assistants of course. "It chased after me but he stopped it."

Tim raised his axe, "Jon are you sure he's not... Another one?"

"Yes I'm sure. That" Jon took a deep breath, "is Jurgen Leitner."

After the team's loud exclamations of disbelief he and Leitner updated them on everything they had discussed. As he was being hugged by Martin and holding the fluffy cat he slowly began calming down.

After Leitner was done a long moment of silence ensued.

"So," Sasha said slowly, "Gertrude's dead?"

"Yes, she was shot and then hidden by Jonah in the tunnels. Unfortunately I couldn't get out to allow for a proper burial, so I had to leave her there." He seemed sad admitting it. Jon did not feel sympathy for him. This man deserved none for his past and cowardice.

"And now, we need to, what, somehow find the center of the maze of tunnels to kill Jonah completely and burn the archives?" Sasha asked skeptically.

"Yes, the whole institute in fact. I have a gas main in the tunnels ready to be ignited once we find the center." Leitner said.

"How do we do that?" Martin frowned.

"Maybe Michael knows?" Tim quipped. "He just helped us out of that situation with his own… corridor labyrinth. Maybe he'll be able to help."

"Okay, okay let's first take a breather and calm down. We'll figure out how to solve this." Jon said, raising his hand to slow them down.

"Yeah, I'll make us some tea." Martin added, "At least now that... Thing won't bother us for a long while."

"Let it burn along with this hell of an institute." Tim said harshly. Knowing how his brother was killed almost the same way, Jon felt strong sympathy for Tim rush over him.

Which was replaced with a different emotion the moment he turned to the man who saved him.

"Thank you for your help, now Martin, I need you to hold Paper for a moment."

Martin, looking baffled, took Paper out of Jon's arms. "Jon wh-"

Jon swiftly approached the older man and proceeded to sock him in the nose with the full force of his fist. The crew gasped in unison.

"That's for everyone you hurt with your idiocy, you stupid old coward." Jon seethed and punched him again. He heard Martin chuckle and Tim whoop as the man whimpered and attempted to protect his face.

Jon was glad they were spared the horrible plans of a 200 year old evil man and that they had some semblance of a strategy moving forward. He was, however, equally elated for this opportunity to do what he fantasized about since learning of Leitner's existence.

And, he supposes, all of this can be indirectly attributed to Paper, the archive cat.

-------

Jon woke up to the warm snuggle of his lovely fiance and a mouthful of cat fur.

"Pffff, Paper geerroff," he mumbled, uselessly trying to push the stubborn cat away. The chirping of birds mingled with the sound of highland cows grazing in the field near their cabin.

After the success of their plan to end Jonah, after the fire had already burned down the horrors of that evil place, it took a while longer for their troubles to be resolved. They had to endure endless questioning and investigations of the police. Jon, who was weakened by the ordeal to the point of needing hospitalization, took a long time to recover and regain his strength. Leitner claimed it was lucky he was cut off from the Eye this early, or the consequences would have been much more serious. The others seemed to have been less affected, but once the archives were completely reduced to ashes they recovered, their jobs burned down along with everything else.

Sasha found a new job as a researcher in a prestigious institute, nothing supernatural involved. Tim moved on to journalism, utilizing his curiosity and charm to their full potential. Jon and Martin opened a tea & book shop, if only to make Paper a real bookshop cat. They have been slowly setting it up and settling down until... Well, Jon proposed and they took a break. Traveled to Scotland with Paper on an early honeymoon to see the cows and enjoy the quiet.

And quiet it was. Until Paper shamelessly began purring as loud as a train right in Jon's ear. Jon huffed in fond annoyance and got up, leaning down to give Martin a kiss on the head and then shooing the crime of a cat off to the kitchen.

"You can't give me a moment of reprieve, can you?" He stretched and followed the cat out the bedroom.

He filled Paper's bowl and sat on the floor leaning his back on the cabinet, closing his eyes as Paper chewed his food noisily.

He must have fallen asleep because the next thing he knew, he was awakened by a soft tap on his head. He looked up blearily and smiled. The cat had long since finished eating and found a home in Jon's lap.

"Morning love." Martin murmured softly, matching his tone to the serene atmosphere. After hesitating a moment, he bent down and sat next to Jon. Jon looked at him adoringly as he absent-mindedly stroked Paper, humming along to his purrs. Martin joined him, petting Paper, their hands occasionally (and very purposefully) brushing against each other.

After a few minutes of calm silence, Martin spoke up.

"You know, this reminds me of that first day we met. In the stacks."

Jon smiled at the memory. "Ahh yes, all three of us had a very fateful meeting there, didn't we? God, I was so stressed back then."

"You handled it pretty well I have to say. Handled my nervousness pretty well too." Martin chuckled.

"I was lucky you were there. You really helped me calm down." Jon admitted. "Well, you and Paper." Jon added fondly.

"Paper was a really good archive cat wasn't he?" Martin said, leaning into Jon, pressing a warm, still sleepy kiss on his cheek. Jon closed his eyes, grateful for the events that led up to this moment of pure happiness, with his fiance and his cat.

"Yes, the best cat in the world."

#Had fun speculating with this one #Hope you enjoy!#tma #the magnus archives #Tma fic #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #s1 archives crew #Jonah magnus #elias bouchard #jurgen leitner #Jonmartin #Fabric Rustles #My tma fic #jonsimsandcats2021 #Jon&cats

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jimlingss · 3 years

Note

It's B from @bang-tan-bitches and I would like to request a yandere fic. It can be BTS OT7 x reader or BTS member of your choice x reader. Similar to your amazing isekai story i would like something similar(a long one shot or a multi-chapter, your choice). Whether YN transmigrates to a game or a novel (not as a villain but maybe as a cannon fodder side character that has little importance to the story and just wants to lay low) but YN captures the attention of the love interest(s) and shit starts getting weird, intense, uncomfortable. Maybe it causes the supposed female lead to turn into the villain, maybe it causes the love interest(s) to turn into the villain(s). Maybe YN realizes that something is wrong with the story/game but can't figure it out. Idk. Time period doesn't matter. Modern. Ancient. Fairytale. Fantasy. Whatever.

If you can do this great! If you can't or don't want to, that's okay too. You're an amazing writer with so much talent and I'm really appreciative of all your work. Thank you for taking requests from your fans, I'm sure you've received a lot.

Take care! 😘💜💜💜

at the start of the pandemic, I was getting back into manga and manhwa and then after a few months, I dawdled off but recently, I’ve been getting back into it again haha so this request came at a pretty good time. Hopefully you won’t mind that I’ve taken some creative liberties with this request lol I think it’s more fun if I keep readers on their toes, including the requester.

On another note, I really shouldn’t be writing all my isekai’s with Taehyung as the main lead but he’s just so fitting asdfghjkl

↳ The Fox Bride

2.6k || 99% Light Fluff, 1% Angst || Kim Taehyung || Isekai!AU, Slight Yandere!AU, Nine-Tailed Fox!Taehyung

You are a tutorial character.

But you weren’t always. You still remember being a career woman in the twenty-first century, struggling with overtime and paying bills while trying to keep yourself fed. The success of that ranged from month to month. But more importantly, you still remember that night too.

It was rainy. Your car blew a flat tire. You pulled to the side of the highway and got out.

The last thing that registered was the deafening honk of the semi-truck.

Then you felt yourself flying upwards.

But when you landed, instead of colliding with the concrete and dying upon impact, you fell back onto your ass in the middle of a market on a dirt road. Transported back a thousand years ago.

Your purpose was fulfilled in the next two minutes.

“Are you alright?”

The male protagonist had stretched out his hand and helped you up. The hero. The main character. It was obvious with his bright red hair, shining eyes and bronze armour. He was so starkly different from the rest who were gray and drab, including you who was suddenly in a brown shapeless dress. He was practically a neon billboard in the middle of a graveyard.

“Are you Y/N?”

You looked at him, befuddled that he knew your name. But before you could even respond or provide a line of dialogue, he said, “This is a delivery from Baker Jeon. He gives you his thanks.”

The protagonists handed you a loaf of bread. Undoubtedly his first ever quest.

You looked down, not sure what to do with it.

“Do you know where the blacksmith is?”

You had absolutely no clue. But there was the deafening noise of hammering steel literally ten steps away. You would have to be blind not to see the gruff man shaping a sword at an anvil right on the road and deaf not to hear it. As if that wasn’t enough, the literal sign of the shop read: ‘the blacksmith’.

So you pointed.

“Thanks.” And he trudged off.

You were utterly confused until a background character who said they knew you waved you over. You shared your bread with her, brushed aside when she asked you what was wrong, and you followed her as she walked up to your supposed cottage.

All the while, you saw yourself in the background of the hero’s main quest as he ran through the town.

And that was that.

It wasn’t so hard to figure out where you were or what the hell this was when you put your mind to it. Without much of a job or a family, and no technology but the candle that you had to conserve when night fell, there was ample time.

So you spent it thinking and you eventually solved the mystery.

You were in Beast Boys Harem: A Forbidden Embrace. AKA. a dumb yaoi otome game app that you downloaded on your phone when you were sixteen and bored. You remember because you were too cheap to buy the routes, so you played the tutorial, prologue and read the summaries of the routes online. Now you regret that you didn’t just fork over the goddamn five dollars.

Even more than that, you regret that you even downloaded the game in the first place.

But at least you’re just a tutorial character. You’re free from the storyline and the plot—

That’s what you thought.

Turns out living a thousand years in the past in a fantasy realm as a woman didn’t bode well. It was probably no different from how it would’ve been like in the medieval ages. You had no trade skills. No one was willing to accept you as an apprentice when you were a woman. You found that you were essentially illiterate with a reading level of a preschooler, no one was willing to teach you, and you had no power or wealth when you were without a father or a husband.

And you’re certain what the landlord and tax-collectors are doing is illegal.

But in this world, in this unjust realm, there is no such thing as the law.

“We know you’re in there!”

You jolt from the heavy pounding on the frail wooden door.

“It’s time to pay up!”

Your hands tremble as you set the candle down that’s still billowing of smoke, the flame smothered out mere seconds ago. As much as you want to hide and pull the blanket over your head, you know that door won’t last. They’ll find you if you’re trapped in here.

“If you can’t, spread those legs of yours!” a low voice spits and there’s chortling from the men.

Someone adds, “Sell your body already!”

“Open up! Damn whore!”

Without a single possession but the white nightgown clad on your body, you open the latch of the back window. You cringe at the squeak, trying to keep your movements quiet before the door gives way.

You hoist yourself up onto the window ledge. The door bends with the strength of multiple clenched fists against it. Your feet touch the soft grass outside your cottage. The men shout.

And the door finally slams against the wall, hinges broken.

But by then, you’ve slipped into the shadows.

“Where is she?!”

The blanket is ripped off the bed, curtains are whipped back, every drawer dumped onto the ground and cupboards yanked open. The floor shakes with the weight of their boots and you press your palm to your mouth to silence your panting breaths, slowly stepping away.

“That damn whore slipped through us—!”

But as your shitty luck would have it, a sudden crack has the whole world coming to a standstill.

Shit. You look down at your feet, realizing that the snapping noise came from you stepping on a twig. And it’s exposed your hiding place.

“There she is!” — “Out the back window!”

You grab fistfuls of your dress and bolt.

“Get her!”

With your cottage on the edge of town, there’s nowhere to run but through the dense woods. It’s shrouded in the darkness, no doubt filled with wild beasts creeping through the thicket. The rustling canopy of the trees doesn’t allow the dim, waning moonlight to illuminate your path.

So you’re left blind. Struggling up the high incline of the forest, feet slipping on dirt and mud. But you keep sprinting with all your might, even when the pointed, coiling branches scrape at your calves until blood sheds and the hem of your dress tears in the underbrush.

“Run, little rabbit!” one of them mocks, “Run!”

The four men continue to give chase, gripping onto their roaring torches, shrieking and howling after you. One of them is manically laughing as if your efforts to flee only adds to the thrill. Their greased hands reach out to snatch you, but the tips of their fingers graze the ends of your hair.

Your teeth are sunk into the bottom of your lip, sobs breaking through your aching chest. Your lungs burn, dying for a break or moment of relief. But you don’t relent and luckily, you manage to build distance between you and the men. Only, that luck comes crashing down by a fucking hole.

A hole in the forest floor that you don’t see. That has your footing all wrong. That makes you scream and fall.

You twist your ankle in a direction it’s definitely not supposed to be in and cry from pain.

A second later, you force yourself to get up and keep running with tears flooding your eyes and dripping down your cheeks. But it’s more like limping than running, akin to hobbling on one leg and every movement has pain shooting from your swelling ankle.

The effort becomes futile. They surround you within minutes.

“All finished?” The tax-collector’s head cocks with a spreading grin. “You’re not going to keep running?”

Why couldn’t you just fucking die the first time?! Even if it was an awful death where you didn’t have time to prepare yourself or say goodbye to anyone, at least it would’ve been the end. At least you wouldn’t have to suffer.

But there’s no time to grieve. Or hate the new life you’ve been given. This is it. You have to keep going. You have to survive. By any means. You’re about to pick up a branch and uselessly wave it around at them, shout at them to stand back. Anything that you could do to save yourself—

“Who dares come onto my mountain?!”

There’s a deep timbre behind you. A husky voice that quivers the very core of the forest.

As if the wind has swept through, the trees and thicket rustle and it goes silent.

The men fall back onto their asses, some torches clattering to the ground. Their eyes have grown double in size, nearly falling from their sockets and their jaws have dropped to the dirt.

“I-It’s the nine-tailed fox!”

The man scrambles back.

“Demon!”

Another barely manages to get onto his feet. He turns around and lurches away while shrieking.

They all run. Scattering away as frantically as cockroaches when the light is flickered on.

From your spot on the ground, you turn around with wide eyes.

Amber irises meet your gawking and they practically glow in the darkness of the forest. He is dressed in a loose, white robe that’s draped over his frame, open to the middle of his chest. And over his honey hair, on the top of his head, his pointed golden ears twitch. By the torch fire still yet to die out, he is illuminated and his shadow is casted on the ground. The blazing flame warms his cold, sharp features.

He is the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen. In both worlds you’ve lived in.

And you know who he is.

Taehyung. One of the love interests of the hero. A seductive, sly creature that eventually coaxes the hero into selling him his soul to grant one of his wishes. But Taehyung grows to become an obsessed character that wants to do nothing but monopolize and possess the hero for himself.

That same Taehyung approaches you with his lip curled as you teeter to your feet.

“Run away, girl.” He leans close. “Before I eat you.”

“Stop!”

On sheer instinct and adrenaline, you push him back. Your palm shoves against his firm chest.

Taehyung stumbles back with his eyes becoming rounded. He looks down to where you had made contact against his body. “Did...you just touch me?”

“What?”

Taehyung’s head darts upwards and he captures your wrist in his hand, squeezing tightly. He tugs you in and on your swollen ankle, you stumble into him. Bodies flush against one another. Your face pressed to his warm chest. His arm coming around your waist to break your fall.

He is aghast.

“You’re not from this world.” Taehyung’s yellow eyes swirl as they gaze into you. “Where did you come from?”

…

It’s been three days.

“Wed me,” he begs for the seventy sixth time.

You don’t know why you’re keeping a count.

“No.”

You’re hugging your knees for warmth. The rice paper-paneled doors are slid open and letting in the chilly air. He doesn’t seem to be affected by the cold, but you don’t look at him for long.

You turn into the corner of his home while sitting on the tatami floors as if you’re putting yourself into time out. But you’d like to say it’s your privacy corner. It’s as private as this abode, which was basically one room, could get.

Taehyung sighs in frustration, placing his hand on his forehead. His teeth grit. “You’re only making this harder for yourself.” Your silence angers him more. “You can never leave.”

You turn over your shoulder to glare. “Even if I married you, you’d never let me leave anyway.”

Taehyung narrows his eyes on you and then smirks. “You’re right. Wed or unwed, I won’t let you out of my sight. You should feel grateful, girl. You’re the best human I’ve ever treated.”

You quietly scoff.

Maybe you should feel scared. Maybe you should tread more lightly. After all, he’s not a character to be trifled with.

But you know he needs you. That alone gives you power.

As a beast, Taehyung’s been trapped on this mountain by priests for centuries. The only way he can be free is by feeding off of sexual energy and breaking the barrier. But of course, they also cursed him to be unable to touch any woman in this universe.

You aren’t from this universe.

You jolt when you realize that while you were lost in thought, Taehyung’s crawled closer. He has a foxy smile, amber eyes searching your expression. “Maybe….maybe I’ll grant you a bit of freedom if you would just give into the temptation and let me have a taste of you.”

As cold as he looks, he is beautiful. He is mischievous when he smirks and sly when he speaks. You are utterly spellbound as you look into his irises. And the temptation he speaks of flickers in the warmth of your belly.

But you turn away.

“I already said we only do that kind of thing after marriage. And I will only marry someone I love.”

Taehyung draws back with an unamused scoff. “What a prudish world you’re from.”

He wanted you the moment you were brought to this house. With the intensity of his stare and your captivated state, you had let him pin you to his floor and you liked it. But then clarity came and you blurted that such an act only happens after marriage. A lie just to buy time.

You didn’t expect for the hero to arrive at Taehyung’s house the next day. With his red hair and bronze armour, he had gotten lost in the forest and knocked on the door. Before you could limp over and answer it, Taehyung jumped off the roof and confronted him.

The guy was thrown off the mountain within five minutes.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. They were supposed to have a steamy rendezvous. Taehyung was supposed to get the sexual energy from him!

The story was going off the rails. And you’re not sure what you’re even buying time for anymore.

The both of you know it’s only a matter of time before you break and succumb to his mesmerizing seduction.

Taehyung is cruel, ruthless, obsessive.

But what’s the most bewitching thing about him is the jarring contrast of when he’s clumsy and nurturing. It’s what he regards as his own weakness. What he hides from others. But you felt your heart waver two nights ago when you were shaken awake in the middle of twilight. When you peeked open your eye to see him gingerly wrapping your swollen ankle with bandages.

He looked beautiful in the pale moonlight, ears, tails, sharp features softened—

“Ow!” You wince as he squeezes your ankle, right on your injury.

“You think too much in your head,” he says and looks at you. “What’s wrong?”

“It hurts.”

A sadistic smile tugs on Taehyung’s lips. He lets go, but only to lift your chin with his fingers. His plush lips are inches away, his breath warm on your skin and he gazes deep into you. “I won’t let you return to your world. I won’t let you run away. I won’t let anyone harm you.”

“You’re mine now.” Taehyung swears, “You’ll fall in love with me eventually.”

You gulp and he smirks.

The two of you know it’s only a matter of time.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #taehyung fanfic #taehyung scenario #taehyung fluff #bts fluff #taehyung reader insert #taehyung x reader #taehyung fanfiction #LET'S GOOOO

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writingtoforgetreality · 3 years

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Springing Forward (Helmut Zemo x Reader)

Request: hey there cathy! i’m a new follower and i was wondering if i might request a zemo x reader where it’s maybe pre ultron and reader’s family own a flower shop in sokovia and somehow through that they meet? idk i know it’s super random but i’ve got spring fever 😂 (by @msmarvelsmain), [Marvel-Masterlist]

Summary: Your family owned a little flower shop. You assisted every now & then. One day, your parents had departed for a while, a man entered the store & changed your life forever.

Words: 3,255

Warnings: fluff, soft!Zemo, it is so sweet, I promise, pretty sure I didn't use any pronouns :), no TFATWS spoilers (you’re welcome), (Y/F/F) = your favorite flowers, REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

Spring was your favorite season of the year. Flowers started blossoming. Nature turned colorful again. Lush hues decorated the outsides. Your family owned a petite shop in the central of downtown in Sokovia. The store was your whole pride & joy. The façade was stacked with uneven, light grey cobblestones. The sign on top of the glass door was illuminated with a warm & congenial light. While you did not have that many guests, your regular customers supported you continuously. Helping out your parents had never bothered you. It was a family business. Your assistance was appreciated & the local citizens enjoyed whenever you served them.

Plants & flowers were your hobby. Somehow, they grew when you tended to them. You managed to flourish almost dead ones. That was one of your skills. Your handling with the people who visited your shop left a good impression. The earnings were not a fortune but you made do. The smiles of your pleased customers were enough to balance that out. Not even once had you been bad-tempered. If something bothered you, then you suppressed that negativity for the sake of your reputation. After all, it never had anything to do with the shop itself.

The mornings were your favorites. When the rest of the town was still fast asleep & the birds slowly awakened with rhythmical chirps. The slight breeze that touched your skin tenderly. The goosebumps erupting where your clothes did not cover you. Yet, you abandoned the thought of pulling over a jacket. As the hours ticked by, the sun would amplify, leaving you content with your tenuous t-shirt. Your parents had left town for relaxation. The shop would be solely yours for the upcoming days. Your little apartment was not far away from your workplace. The short walks back & forth were forever welcomed. During your lunch break, if your job & the weather allowed you that, you wandered through the narrow backstreets. Every corner was familiar but the small details that frequently transformed always fascinated you anew.

Years ago, you loathed leaving the country you were born in to start a new life here in Sokovia. Your parents were incomprehensibly overstrained with your whim that seemed to worsen daily. Friends were abandoned in the process of moving. The beginning in a foreign area was strenuous. Not only did it take a toll on you but on your parents as well. The loan enabled your family’s dream of owning their own shop. Independence was an indescribable feeling. Ever since, your fondness of this place had been increasing steadily. And while you would not exactly say that you had friends here, you definitely made a few acquaintances. Friendships would follow sooner or later. Besides, your work consumed almost all of your time. You lived to work & you worked to live. It was as simple as that. Your lifestyle functioned like that. It was exhausting, sometimes excessive, but you handled it just fine. Still, every now & then, you found yourself craving something. What that particular something was had yet to be discovered.

The delightful ringing of the bell whenever someone entered your shop reached your ears. It was early in the morning. Usually, the first costumers rolled in closer to lunch time. Not that you were complaining. Your body spun around, your apron getting stuck on an infinitesimal bump standing out of your oak wooden counter. Silent curses left your lips, too quiet for the stranger to hear. The struggles were noticeable & a presence approached you. You had yet to glance at the person but your delicate hands were busy with fiddling the fabric.

“May I?” a soft, accented voice spoke up & startled you slightly. Your eyes flickered up & locked with warm, chocolate brown ones. For a few moments, time stopped. Your heartbeat sped up. Something about this simple interaction let sparks burst. And when his lips turned into a gentle smile, you were gone for. Never before had something similar occurred. Especially not that quickly. It was obvious that you were staring a little too intensively. But his eyes did not leave yours, lingering just for a fraction longer. He had asked you a question. As an owner, you completely failed your task. You neither welcomed him in nor did you engage in a conversation. Coughing to hide the embarrassment, you averted your gaze & began.

“Welcome. Um, I’d really appreciate your help, thank you.” your voice wavered but it did not crack. His hands, covered by leather gloves, stretched out & he initiated the process of freeing you. The thick material that hid his fingers was offbeat. Average people tended to avoid gloves during this season. It was warm enough without them. Then again, this stranger did not strike you as average. This brief meeting was proof enough.

“There you go.” he commented after successfully liberating you. “As good as new.” he radiated a feeling that made you believe he was a well-spoken man. You were unsure how exactly you ended up with that conclusion.

“Thank you.” both of your hands reached to the hem of your apron, glancing down at it, checking for possible damages. But, as he alleged, it was perfectly fine. Another moment of silence went by, then you slowly returned to reality. You occupied your according place behind the counter. Back straightened & regained composure. “Apologies for my unprofessional behavior. I will ensure you a discount for your purchase. Right…what did you need?” your rambling was mortifying. Hiding your emotions was not necessarily one of your skilled characteristics.

“Please, do not bother with special treatments.” one of his hands raised in front of his chest, signaling that he was being serious. It did not change that, deep down, you felt poorly. “I was actually looking for…” a chuckle interrupted his speech. “I am uncultured regarding this area, truthfully. If you offer me your assistance now then the two of us are even.” the following wink made you all giddy. What was it about him?

“Okay, well…” your previous painstakingness was pushed down. “What is the occasion?” it was always surprising to gain new customers. His accent betrayed him a little. And what a sweet betrayal it was.

“A decisive meeting with a higher up. An efficient first impression would be convenient.” he enlightened you, choosing his words carefully. Well-spoken he was but that was manifested from the very beginning.

“Any preferred colors, types?” one of your eyebrows perked up. Moving your body around the counter & in the middle of the modest shop, you reacted unwillingly after brushing past his frame. Your shoulder barely grazing but enough to trigger uneven breaths.

“How does a common purchase for such an event look like?” you peered over your shoulder, a bit of amusement written over your features. While he appeared like a literate man, ten times wiser than you, this was a field you surpassed with ease. A quick glimpse on your forearm, where a barely functioning watch swathed your wrist caressingly, confirmed your previous assumption. There was still a load of time left until the shop’s actual occupation. You could bestow him your aggregate attention. The unnamed stranger absorbed your every word of your explanation. Your eyes sparkled with a newly witnessed enthusiasm. The fact that he did not heckle your talk during the entirety of your tour through the shop brought you desired satisfaction. He was the first person to display genuine interest in your employment.

“God, please excuse me trailing off. I did not intend to bore you.” all of a sudden, your energetic self switched to an insecure one.

“I can assure you that you did not bore me. Not for one second.” his affirming smile calmed your incertitude. Together, the two of you picked up various individual flowers. A compiled bouquet would portray him in the best light. Your hands moved on their own. You could still hold a conversation with the man on the other end of the wooden table. It separated the back of the shop from the front, main area. His fascination for you expanded by every further move you performed. Lastly, you wrapped the ends of the stems with a fine, almost sheer paper. To secure everything & hold it in place, you braided a ribbon that matched the color of the textile.

“All done.” you showcased the finished product to him, a small, gratified smile adorning your face. “What do you think?” the question was almost shy, it needed reassurance. Which made him ponder why you were so doubtful of yourself & your abilities. To him, you prepared the most gorgeous bouquet he had ever caught a sight of.

“Plainly astonishing.” his praise warmed you from deep within. “You really do have an unbelievable talent.” you thanked him quietly, eyes flickering down to avoid his intense stare. By no means was it displeasing or inadvertent. It was sweet & thoughtful. You wanted to extend his stay, fearing that this would be a one-time interaction. But you could not remain on this high you were currently experiencing. The sound of the entrance bell fetched you back to the present. Another customer that needed attendance. Your togetherness approached an undesirable end. Controlled fingers punched a well-rehearsed pattern into the cash register. The blue numbers flashed for the man in the coat to see. Gloves & a fur-coat during spring? He was the only living soul you had ever met that made it work.

A wallet was pulled out of his pocket. Fine fingers retrieved the money. A beat went by. Two. Almost like he wanted to savor the little time you two had left. But your duties called. He would not use up any more of your duration. Maybe he had already overstepped & his appearance was no longer welcomed or appropriate. The notes were handed over. Your movements like a slow motion scene in your favorite movie. The scenery grasping your every bit of attentiveness. It was something you wanted to remember. To think back & hope to perceive that same feeling you experienced during the first time. You reached for it. The moment his clothed hand touched your smooth skin stilled the world once again. The gentle brush of his thumb over the back of your hand could have been missed if it was not for your body to be this alerted.

“Thank you for your exceedingly helpful guidance, …?” his eyes looked up at you sheepishly. You knew what he was intending. It was a silent question for your name. And you were more than eager to comply.

“(Y/N).” it was short, adequate. His smirk held a deeper meaning. What it was exactly, you could not identify.

“Why, thank you, (Y/N).” his emphasis was on your name. The way it rolled from his tongue was mesmerizing. You found yourself craving to hear that sound constantly. But you were not even sure if it was naïve to hope for his return. He would exit any second. Leaving behind a pit only he could fill. Your train of thought converted into utter despair. He was your customer. Nothing more. Nothing less.

“You never told me your name.” you called out when he was almost out of the door. One last time, he glanced over his shoulder. The fur tickling his chin a bit. One last time, you studied the way his lips lifted. One last time, you believed.

“Helmut.” he replied. “It was nice meeting you.” his hand pushed the door open. His body moved through the doorway. As fast as he entered your life, he left just as quickly.

“You too.” you whispered but he was no longer here to listen to your words. Your face fell, the previous spark in your eyes completely gone. The person in front of you waited until you paid all of your attention to them. It took a lot of effort but you managed in the end. The only difference was that they were not him. Nobody would ever be him again. But he vanished. Like dust in the wind, blowing away his remaining scent that had filled your nostrils.

Was it possible to crave a person you barely knew? Your subconscious sprinkled salt in your wound. Brains could be ridiculous. Nonsense. The teasing of your dreams, in the dark of the calm night, was echoing. Ricocheting off the walls that kept your emotions buried inside. Similar to being the main character in a horror film, desperately looking for a way out but being trapped no matter what. Why were you reacting like that? Why did Helmut waltz into your shop without any restrictions, turning your entire life, your entire world, upside down? He was one mysterious man. Uncommon, remarkable. Someone who swept you off your feet by simply being. One charming smile & you were gone for. The first words he directed to you & he gained you wholly. The worst part of it all was that he had no idea what he did to you. He had no idea that your thoughts were solely revolving around him ever since his entrance to the store. His entrance to your heart. What was happening to you? You had to move on, that much was clear. Truth was, you abominated that thought. Your focus had to shift. Back to your work, back to your task.

The following day started off with a bad mood. Certainly, the upcoming hours would be draining. You could not allow the shop’s closure. Not even for a day. Your family’s existence depended on it. Everything was the same. Chirping birds, a cool breeze, a short walk. The peacefulness before customers visited. Yet, everything was not the same at all. Because there was this nagging feeling inside of you & you knew you could not get rid of it. The ringing sound caught you off guard. It was unusual. Only once had someone entered this early in the mornings. And this one time was yesterday. Your shock was visible. Helmut’s presence was unexpected but definitely not unsought.

“Helmut?” your voice was an octave higher. The excitement emitting from you.

“Good morning, (Y/N).” he strutted closer to you. The same gloves, the same coat. The same offbeat & arcane man.

“What brings you here today?” your head tilted, trying to find a possible explanation for his return. “Wait. Was the bouquet improper?” immediately, thousands of dark, negative thoughts were rushing through you. You did your very best with the flower’s arrangement. Never before had you spent this much time & effort.

“No, not at all.” one of his hands raised & rested on your shoulder, squeezing the tiniest bit. You had to take a deep breath in order to stay calm. As calm as it was possible with him around. “The exact opposite. Which is why I am here again. Could you assist me once more?”

“Of course. What were you envisioning? Who are the flowers for?” your elbows propped onto the countertop, gazing lovingly into his orange shining brown eyes.

“I meant to ask for your favorites. You strike me as one with fantastic taste.” Helmut certainly had a way with words. No matter what he said, you found yourself captivated by him. The topic could be dreary but he made it sound fascinating.

“My favorites? It’s tough to choose one when there are so many stunning options.” you quieted down for a few seconds to really contemplate your answer. It was flattering that he asked for your opinion. “If you make me pick then I’d say…hmm, probably (Y/F/F).”

“Perfect. I would like to purchase a bouquet then.” right away, you got to work. Helmut watched your skilled hands. His enthusiasm only died down when he saw the frown forming on your face. “What is it?”

“Huh?” you were in your thoughts. His question was almost missed by you.

“That frown. Where is it coming from?” only Helmut could be so straight forward about such a small detail he had noticed. Would you tell him the truth? You should not. He did not need to know that your mood turned sour because he bought more flowers. This time, he did not let you know about the purpose of them. Another dinner with a higher up? Highly unlikely. But not entirely impossible. You assumed he would gift them to a woman. Hence why you sidestepped his question masterly.

“I believe it happens when I’m focused on my task.” you hoped your smile was reassuring but Helmut saw right through you. In the end, he did not comment on it. There was a building tension between you two. This time around, there were no lingering touches. He left the shop once again & it was clear that this was it. Helmut would not come back again. And maybe it was for the better. Your heart was too fragile to be crushed by his bare hands. It was not fair to blame basically a stranger. He had a life you had no insight on. But the aching could not be ignored.

Just as you wanted to lock the door to your shop for your lunch break, a voice reached your ears, followed by hurried footsteps. Turning around to look for the cause of it, you were shocked for a second time today. It was Helmut. The same bouquet he had purchased earlier clasped in one of his hands. The other one balanced two cups of coffee. As much as you wanted to withhold your smile, it was inevitable to repress.

“(Y/N)!” he was slightly out of breath. “I expected you were gone already.”

“Good that your expectation was wrong.” the warmth that filled your body was endearing.

“Here.” he handed you the flowers & your eyebrows furrowed. “For you.” he explained further when you made no move to reach for them.

“Why?” you inquired but grabbed the bouquet from him anyway. His posture relaxed & the grip on the cups was more secure.

“May I invite you on a walk through the town?” he suggested shyly. “I brought you coffee. I do hope it is after your liking?” the last part was a question. A sign that he doubted himself the slightest.

“I’m sure it’ll be delightful.” you eased his mind immediately. The cup was placed in your other hand. “Could you wait here for a minute? I should put them in a vase.” he motioned for you to go ahead. Your heart was doing backflips. It all fell into place now. You pieced everything together. He asked for your favorite flowers earlier today because he intended to give them to you. His plan was to spend your lunch break together. Helmut really went out of his way for you. His efforts were mellow. Returning outside once again, he patiently stood in the same spot. The softness of his features were rare on a man like him. You had met people similar to him but he was different. Helmut was that type of many who bought you flowers & made time to spend more with you.

You knew the town by heart. So did Helmut. But exploring the beautiful spots together felt like you were espying every corner, every building, for the very first time. Conversation flowed easily. Laughter was shared, loving glances were exchanged. He gave you a feeling of belonging. Like you were supposed to be right here from the very beginning. It felt right. With a man like him on your side, your life quality would finally improve. Helmut would be the one to quench your cravings. And you would not want it any other way.

Published (05/04/2021) by Cathy

✨MY Ko-fi PAGE✨

Tags: @takacsgram, @hiddlestoner-cumberbitch, @bibliophilewednesday, @yallgotkik, @noavengers, @lieutenantn, @birdieofloxley, @aisling1985, @trelaney, @sebastian-stan-d-on-my-throat, @thewinterrbucky, @loveinthemadness, @princess-yuna (thanks for your support <3)

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yunhoiseyecandy · 3 years

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✕ 𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞; 𝐦𝐲 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞

✕ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞; 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟

✕ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠; 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢 ◆ 𝐟.𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

✕ 𝐰/𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 𝟐.𝟓𝐤 — 𝟑.𝟎𝐤

✕ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬; 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐞𝐱, 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥- 𝐟.𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐧𝐨 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 - 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞, 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠- 𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥, 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲

✕ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲

[𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭]

𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐲!!

@multidreams-and-desires , @latte-fairytaekwoon , @tinkerbellwoo , @hanatiny , @vocalyunho , @cloudyyeonnie , @little-precious-baby , @galaxteez , @sunshinesanflower

─────

you were never really one to believe in love, just the mere thought of falling so hard for someone making you cringe.

but despite your many efforts to block out all those confusing emotions, there was one person who just might’ve been your hardest catch yet,

song mingi

you remember the first time you walked into the small and cozy coffee shop, the smell of hot chocolate welcoming you as soon as you stepped inside. it was a quiet place that people went to either catch up with a new friend or work on things that they should’ve had done by now.

and more than often, you found yourself in the tucked-in corner next to the tinted windows, fingers grazing over the keyboard of your computer while you sipped on your coffee. which to you, meant nothing more than a late afternoon study session that had you on edge due to your professor’s late assignments that he’d sprung out of nowhere.

you found this little shop to put you at ease, which is exactly why you spent most of your free time here alone, taking in just how good it felt to let go every once and a while.

of course, you did bring a friend along with you sometimes, but they never seemed to appreciate all the little things you did.

the different kinds of people that would come and go, the way a chalkboard ran across a whole wall and people had an opportunity to write down how they were feeling that day. and one of the things you found most attractive about it here would have to be the selection of cakes and cookies they had on display at all times.

it made you feel like a kid all over again, and it didn’t help the fact that they let you taste test some of their newest additions. but that might’ve been since you’d visited them so often, which came to no one’s surprise.

but one thing you had never truly came to see, was the pair of eyes that lingered over you whenever the bell on the door would jingle at around four pm. or the small smile that painted their face when you sat down at your usual spot.

mingi had come to know you since you’d moved into the area, only ever making small talk when you ordered your usual coffee with three sugars and only a dash of creamer. it was like you made this job ten times better, but he wasn’t sure if he’d ever tell you that.

and as if you were reading his mind, the sound of a bell ran through the shop as you smiled warmly at him. he tried not to seem too happy about your presence, looking at you from the corner of his eyes to make sure you didn’t catch him checking you out.

his arm nudged san’s, nodding his head over to you so he knew to take your order. “dude, are you kidding me right now?” san said, his voice laced with amusement. “you need to talk to her, not me.”

mingi scoffed, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” but they both knew exactly what was going on, and mingi’s pride would never give in. he didn’t know what was wrong with him, he was usually the one to make the first move when it came to dating.

but there was something about you that made him shy, and he was starting to get confused about all his emotions. you were too pretty to him, and he was scared that if he said one thing to you, you would call him out and not want anything to do with him.

so he decided to do the one thing he knew he’d have a chance with; beg san to find out more information about you. though now that he thinks about it he made it easier for san to find a way to flirt with you, and that made him want to punch his best friend for even suggesting anything.

san looked at him, sighing when he saw mingi was trying to cover up how panicked he was inside. “fine, but I swear to god this is the last time.”

and so it was. mingi still remembers the way san asked you question after question, and he couldn't lie and say he didn't feel bad for bombarding you with them.

but it was worth all the cringey and awkward conversations because that night, about an hour past the whole in the wall shop closed down for the day, mingi sat across san with stars in his eyes as the older one talked to him about every he'd found out about you.

your favorite color, what you're going to college for, your hobbies, and just about everything he could fit in before heading home for the night.

it made a shy smile spread across mingi's face, and it didn't seem to leave. well, that is until he fell asleep.

but as much as he felt like he could talk about you all day, just going off of the things san said, it would make him feel even better if he'd actually be able to talk to you.

and not just from taking your order

"it's not that hard, man." he said to himself, a horrible attempt to use the small amount of courage he'd been saving up. "you've done this before, it'll be just like a walk in the park."

and now that he thinks back on the whole mess of a situation, he laughs at how shot his nerves were that day. considering where you both are today, it's like he'd been worrying over nothing.

as soon as you saw a glimpse of his red hair moving towards your direction, you felt a jolt of happiness in your body while you moved a piece of your hair out of your face.

you heard him cough, and you took that as him making you aware of his presence. "uh, it's y/n— right?" he said, his words coming out rushed even though hed told himself to be calm.

you turned your head to the side, hands playing with a napkin on the table. "yes, I am. can I help you?" you saw him shift uncomfortably onto his other leg, and he shoved his hands in his pockets while his eyes fixed on your lips.

"do you think we could hang out sometime? there's this really good italian place down that street that opened not too long ago.."

little did you know, that restaurant would end up being one of your favorites.

—

mingi's eyes fluttered open, taking in the light that was peeking through the curtains. he'd be freezing if it wasn't for the heavy blanket pulled over both of you, but he only really cared if you were warm enough.

it's been almost a year since you both had started dating, and if you were honest it's felt like much longer than that.

you were at the happiest point you think you'd ever been, and never in your life did you think someone like mingi would love you endlessly. it was a perfect match, and never in did it truly occur that people this perfect actually exist.

he felt your body dip into his touch, your back against his chest as he smiled warmly at you. "are you awake, baby?"

you groaned at him, not wanting to wake up just yet. his fingers traced shapes on your thighs, soon making their way up to your stomach and running over the stretch marks that lay on your skin.

"mm, mingi." your voice was low as you spoke to him, and you couldn't help the soft moan that slipped past your lips when his hand played with the hem of your underwear, teasing you.

you felt him smile against your neck, his lips soon attaching themselves to the skin below your ear and he kissed the area softly. "yes?"

without any more words, you grabbed the hand that was teasing you and pulled it up your body, slowly guiding it up your shirt and making his large hand squeeze your already hard nipple.

he caught on to what you wanted quickly, grinding into your ass while his lips and hand worked on your body slowly.

you'd always loved how his lips felt on you. whether it be on your own, your neck, or any other part you couldn't help but want more when he'd pull away.

and he knew what they did to you, which is why he always made sure to take his time kissing your body before anything else. "mingi, I need more."

a sharp gasp left you when he pushed the covers off of you both, moving to lay between your legs as he caught notice of what you were wearing.

it was one of his striped black and white shirts, only one button holding him back from adoring your body. "I don't remember saying you could use my clothes," he kissed up your stomach, "do you think I could have it back?"

you giggled, doing him a favor and slowly taking off the shirt all while keeping eye contact. he felt his cock grow harder when he saw the wet patch on your panties, and he couldn't help but spread your legs open as he layed down on his stomach.

"lay back," you did, but couldn't help and look down at him while he did what he does best.

his hands slid up and down your inner thighs, stopping once they reached the top of your underwear and pulling them down painfully slow. he'd always loved how sensitive you were, and it always made him so impatient with how wet you got when he's barely even done anything.

maybe it was because of how hard it was starting to get for him to control himself that he let himself go, or it could've been because he's always wanted to taste you, but without any warning his mouth connected with your core and he moaned into you.

"ah, fuck!" you moaned, throwing your head back as your back arched. at this point you didn't even care that your neighbors might hear you, and that thought left as soon as it came when he wrapped his arms around your legs, pushing you even harder onto his tongue.

your mouth was wide open, eyebrows furrowing when he slipped a finger in you as his lips closed around your clit, sucking on it harshly.

"so good, you taste so fucking good." his breath was hot against you, and a silent cry left your mouth when his finger curled up inside you.

you were close, and the more his movements sped up the harder it was getting for you to hold on. "mingi— I'm gonna cum-"

as soon as those words came out you regretted it, and you watched him pull away fast before leaning back on his legs.

but it's was impossible for you to get frustrated, because the view in front of you was more than enough to push you over the edge. his hand moved over the bulge in his shorts, slowly moving up and down as his head fell back.

"god, I can't wait to fuck you." his eyes roamed your body, taking in the way your hair stuck to your forehead. "hold your arms above your head, doll."

trying your hardest to ignore the slick that lined your inner thighs, your arms raised and you gripped the pillow covers while you watched him pull his shorts down.

no matter how many times you've had sex with him, his cock never fails to make your core throb with anticipation. the tip was bright red, and a vein ran from underside the base all the way to the tip. just the thought of tasting him had drool pooling in your mouth.

he took one of your legs and placed it on his shoulder, gripping your calf as he ground down into you. "you're always so good for me, and you never fail to make me weak,"

"my valentine."

he pushed in slowly, watching your every movement to make sure that you weren't in any pain. your eyes screwed shut, taking in the way he filled you up perfectly. it was like you two were made for eachother, a perfect fit.

his hips soon found a rhythm that had you both seeing stars, the only thing being heard throughout your shared apartment being your moans and his grunts along with the sound of skin on skin.

his skin was warm against yours, beads of sweat trickling down his chest and onto his abs the flexed with every thrust he gave you. "mingi, right there!"

he payed attention to the way you squeezed around him, not wanting to cum just yet and trying his hardest to feel you cum first. "you close, sweetheart?"

you nodded your head, unable to form proper words with the way his cock kept hitting your sweet spot. "f-fuck,"

your lower half felt numb except where you both met, and he dropped the leg that was on his shoulder so he could lean down and reach deeper inside you.

it was the way the tip of his cock hit your cervix multiple times that made your legs twitch, your body going numb as you came with a loud moan. it was too much for mingi to handle, and he could feel himself slip over the edge when you screamed his name.

his hips slowed down, pulling out of you and rolling on his back beside you. you were both exhausted, but as much as you wanted to snuggle into his chest and let sleep take over you, you both really needed to get cleaned up.

"I'll go turn the shower on," he said, kissing your lips and sitting up. you couldn't help but laugh at him, it was like he knew what you were thinking.

"thank you, mingi."

he could feel your eyes on him when he stood up and made his way to the bathroom, and some part of him made him feel all shy like he hadn't just ruined you five minutes earlier.

"if you keep staring at me like that, I might have to go back in for round two." he laughed out.

you giggled, pulling the blanket over your body, "happy valentine's day, baby."

─────

#mingi smut #mingi fluff #mingi angst #ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez angst #kpop smut #kpop fluff #kpop angst #ateez #kpop #ateez scenarios #ateez fic #ateez mingi #ateez x reader #kpop boy group #kpop fanfic #mingi scenarios #happy valentines day

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lady-divine-writes · 2 years

Text

Klaine Advent Challenge 2021 - “Taste of Heaven” (Rated G)

Summary: All Kurt wants for Christmas is a good night's sleep, but Blaine has a cookie emergency that threatens to rob him of the twelve hours of shut-eye he was hoping for.

But that might be a good thing. (1582 words)

Notes: Written for the Klaine Advent Challenge 2021 prompts: rise, ordinary, qualification, work, cup, and company.

Read on AO3.

"Kurt?"

Kurt murmurs something vaguely resembling the word what while keeping his eyes closed. He has no intention of opening them. Opening his eyes means rise and shine!

Nope.

That's not him.

Not yet.

The past few years, he has wanted only one thing for Christmas - a good night's sleep. That way, he doesn't look like a bleary-eyed mess when family stops by. Not that much family will be stopping by with the new social distancing measures in effect.

His father and stepmother won't be.

Even though they’ve all gotten the vaccine and the booster, it's not worth the risk. Not with the way the number of virus cases has been climbing again. But Cooper will be by, accompanied by Blaine's mom.

Kurt would rather not look like death warmed over when they get there.

Kurt worked hard to get to bed as early as he could. He'd finished wrapping presents days before, had their daughter's new bike assembled at the shop where he bought it, and finished tomorrow's food prep all before nine.

He's not waking up early unless someone is dying.

Even then, he’ll require proof.

"Help. Kurt? Help… "

Kurt's lips twist into a calculating grin. "What is it, Taylor?"

Three beats of silence pass, and then, "That's not funny, Kurt."

"You mean not funny like when you came home drunk from your bachelor party and called me Tom?"

Kurt hears Blaine gulp and bites his teeth together to keep from laughing.

"Touche. But I need you to wake up."

"No. I got to sleep early. It's all I wanted, so that's what I'm doing. You promised you wouldn't wake me till ten a.m.."

"I know I did, unless it was an emergency."

“Unless it was an emergency," Kurt mimics. But when realization hits, he shoots up, swinging his legs over the side of the mattress with his eyes still shut. "What... what's going on? Is it Tracy? Is she hurt?"

"No. She's okay." Blaine takes his husband's hands in his and gives them a tug. "Can you please just come with me?"

"Can you explain first? Because all of this mysterious mystery isn't doing my heart any favors."

"Sorry." Blaine continues to tug on his husband’s hands until Kurt groans reluctantly to his feet. "Here's the run-down - Tracy woke me up about an hour ago to make cookies… "

Kurt frowns. "Cookies?"

"A-ha."

"This is a cookie emergency?"

"Sort of?" Blaine admits lamely.

Kurt stops walking. "You've made about a million cookies in your lifetime. Why do you need my help?"

"Because this time I'm a little out of my wheelhouse."

Kurt snickers, then he snorts, and because the situation has gone from annoying to amusing, he starts walking again, allowing his husband to lead him to the kitchen. "You have a cookie-making wheelhouse?"

"Focus, Kurt. Focus."

"Sorry. I did just wake up."

"She didn't want to make any ordinary cookie," Blaine continues, nudging guilt aside for the greater good. "She wanted to make your mom's Lacy Almond and Mexican Chocolate Roll-Ups."

"Wow. Look at our little Tracy, scaling Mt. Everest.”

“Yup. She takes after you that way.”

Kurt hears the smile in his husband’s voice. Flattery does go far in their relationship. Kurt won’t lie. But he knows his husband.

He knows he’s sincere.

“Did she make it safely to the top?" Kurt asks.

"Not quite. They turned out a little… “ Blaine pauses and hems, searching for a tactful way to describe the situation “… wrong. And I don't have the necessary qualifications to fix them."

Kurt stops walking when his hip bumps the counter. He'll have to open his eyes eventually, but he’s stalling for as long as possible. Just a few more seconds of blissful blackness. That's all he asks.

"I know that's my mom's most complicated cookie recipe, but I'm sure they can't have turned out too - whoa!" Kurt stares, drop-jawed, at the sheet of congealed black before him, center oozing a blacker substance still. The cookies are supposed to be light as air, delicate, pale on the outside, with a swirl of cocoa peeking through the ends.

These don’t look like his mom’s roll-ups.

They don’t even resemble cookies.

“Too much brown sugar,” Kurt deduces under his breath, “not enough flour, too high heat, jeez… “

Three years ago, Tracy built a model of The La Brea Tar Pits for school. She used a combination of dirt, peat, and Elmer’s glue to create the base.

These “cookies” look exactly like that.

He gives it a poke. It makes a popping sound, and he physically recoils. "What happened?"

"Let's just say mistakes were made," Blaine says quietly. Kurt thinks he catches Blaine cross himself once or twice. "But now I need your help to fix them."

"Scrape them into the trash and cover them with coffee grounds. She'll think Santa ate them, like every year."

"Uh... that’s the thing. She didn't make them for Santa. She made them for you."

Kurt tilts his head, meets his husband's gaze. "For me?"

"Yeah. She said she wanted you to have something special for Christmas."

"But we make cookies all the time."

“It’s not about the cookies. It’s about… your mom.”

Kurt’s eyelids narrow as he tries to get that comment to make sense. “What about my mom?”

Blaine runs a tired hand through his mussed curls and looks down at his feet. “I promised I wouldn’t tell you.”

“That means you should probably tell me,” Kurt retorts, knowing his logic is flawed. But this early in the morning (three, he thinks, if he can trust his microwave), logic doesn’t exist.

He’ll broach the subject with his husband later when he’s conscious.

“I guess she overheard you on the phone with your dad,” Blaine explains. “Talking about how much you miss your mom over the holidays and… “

“Say no more,” Kurt mumbles, shame catapulting him fully awake. Frick.

No wonder he didn’t get the lead in West Side Story. He obviously isn’t as good an actor as he takes himself for.

Kurt adores Christmas. Always has. He’s not religious, but he loves the ritual of the holiday: planning, decorating, buying gifts, going to parties and school plays and dinners with his friends and family. He has even suffered through a few midnight masses so that their tiny trio could spend quality time with Tracy’s mom, Mercedes. Participate in her holiday traditions.

But he hasn’t enjoyed Christmas as much lately as when he first became a father.

As Tracy gets older, everything feels like a chore, especially as they struggle with the COVID pandemic.

And the things Kurt loves he has started to avoid.

Kurt will admit he didn’t try his hardest to hide his melancholy. But he wasn’t worried about diminishing his daughter’s Christmas spirit. Blaine has enough for both of them. The man is practically an elf. Kurt figured Blaine’s enthusiasm would compensate for his own apathy, and Tracy wouldn’t notice.

But his daughter is too smart for her own good.

Kurt has been going through the motions. That’s one of the reasons he wanted to get to bed early.

He wanted to get Christmas over with.

Kurt thought Christmas would be a thousand times better, happier, more joyful when he had a child of his own. And it was for the first few years. But more and more, it underscores how much he misses his mother.

Kurt didn’t have a bad life after his mother passed. Far from it. Burt Hummel is the greatest father that has ever walked the earth. But Kurt feels cheated every day that his mother isn’t around, curses every missed Christmas, birthday, and graduation.

His wedding and the birth of his daughter.

Tracy has a mom, two dads, grandparents, and a host of adopted aunts and uncles who drop in for nearly every holiday, every special event.

He hates to admit he’s jealous of his own daughter.

Kurt yawns, presses the heels of his hands into his eyes to wipe away the sleep.

But mostly to hide the tears.

He needs to make this up to his daughter.

And this is where he starts.

"How did you tell her they were going to get fixed?" Kurt asks.

"I told her that leaving them to cool would activate the baking soda, and they'd puff right up."

"And... ?"

"She didn't believe that. She said you'd taught her enough about baking to know that wasn't true."

Kurt grins at the brilliance of his daughter. "Good girl. And after that?"

"Santa magic."

"Did she believe that?"

"Yes."

"Crap."

Why did Blaine have to say Santa magic? Why couldn't he have said 'hopes and prayers'? Tracy is clever enough to know that those aren't worth a thing.

But Santa magic must be preserved.

Kurt's elusive night's sleep on Christmas Eve remains out of reach for yet one more year. But maybe it should. This time, at least. "All right. Let's get to work keeping the spirit of Christmas alive."

“Excellent!” Blaine says with a muffled clap. “Shall I give you your space? Let the master work?”

“Nu-uh! I’m not going to bake while you sneak off to the sofa for some shut-eye. Misery loves company." Kurt plants his hands on Blaine's shoulders and moves him into the space between the kitchen island and the stove. He shoves a measuring cup in his hand and points to a bag of flour. "You’re manning the flour station. Maybe you’ll learn something.”

#klaine advent 2021 #klaine fic #klaine fanfiction #kurt hummel #blaine anderson

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ravenluvsppnbc · 3 years

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Tattoo parlor au

thanks for the request! i hope this is suffice. <3

Chloe woke up on Tuesday, nerves filling her body. The sun had just risen. The birds were chirping and flying around in circles through the sky. Chloe’s alarm had woken her at eight. She took a cold shower, wishing not to waste the hot water, and was drinking a warm latte just ten minutes after. She watched the morning news, mumbling curses at the political pieces. By the time she was dressed, the news was playing a puppy segment. She smiled, switching off the television when it was done. She left the apartment by ten.

The redhead walked down the street to meet her two best friends. Aubrey and Amy were standing on the block corner, waving obnoxiously. Today was the day Chloe had been waiting for with nerve. It was also the day Aubrey had been dreading. Amy was very excited. They would be getting tattoos. Matching tattoos. The three girls had become a “groupe de trois” in college when they joined an a cappella group. Chloe and Aubrey were already years into college when freshman Amy met them.

They decided to get matching tattoos weeks ago. Today was finally the day. Aubrey leads the others to her car, which she had parked in a carpark an hour prior. The girls laughed, driving to the only tattoo parlor that Aubrey had approved. Aubrey could be a bit picky, but it balanced out Chloe’s open mindedness and Amy’s boldness. The three pulled into the lot at 11:50, which Chloe thought was perfect. Aubrey thought that they were late. Their appointment was at noon.

Chloe’s boot clomped against the ground as they entered the shop. Aubrey was taken aback by the soft rock that filled her ears as the door shut behind them. A little man with long hair peeked his head over the desk. He had a sleeve of skulls, and a nose ring. Amy walked closer to the desk and said, “Hi, we’re here for some tats.”

“Did you have an appointment already?” Little man asks.

“Yeah. We’re supposed to be scheduled for noon.” Aubrey chimes in, stepping closer to the desk.

“Alright perfect. Uh Beca is just finishing up with somebody at the moment and then Jackson is just hanging out in the back. We’ll get going in a minute.” The man said, standing up and walking back.

A guy, who Chloe assumes is Jackson, walks to the front desk and takes Aubrey to the back. Chloe and Amy stand at the front, listening to the music. A brown-haired woman in a leather jacket and doc martens walks out of a curtain with front desk man and another guy in a black tank top. Chloe can’t stop staring at this woman, who she assumes just got a tattoo. Only now, Chloe realizes, the woman jumps behind the front desk and looks at the computer. Amy walks to the back with the small man, waving.

“You’re also getting one?” The woman asks, making eye contact with Chloe.

“Yeah.” Chloe mumbles bashfully, as the other woman scans her body.

“Alright, I’m Beca” The woman says, grabbing Chloe’s hand, “Come on then.”

Beca leads Chloe to the back of the tattoo shop where theres a black curtain hanging from the ceiling. She helps Chloe into the chair. Chloe scans the space. Beca has band posters on the walls, a record player in the corner. “OO Oasis,” Chloe says, pointing to the wall, “I love them.”

“Yeah,” Beca says, sitting down on a chair, getting out a tattoo gun and ink. She spins her chair towards Chloe with a smirk. “So are you gonna tell me what your name is?”

“Oh, sorry. Just nervous that’s all. Uh. I’m Chloe.”

Beca smiles. “Don’t be too nervous,” she says, turning around to prepare the equipment, “You’re really pretty, whatever you get is gonna look dope.” Chloe smiles, blushing.

After a moment of silence, Beca speaks up again, brushing the previous comment off of her shoulder. “So what were we thinking of getting?”

“Oh I’m thinking something simple. I want it to say, ‘Bella’ and then I want to put a burrito next to it.” Chloe says.

“Well I do hope that you and Bella stay together for awhile. This one might be a little hard to explain.” Beca says, letting out a chuckle.

“Oh it’s not a relationship tattoo-”

“Oh I’m sorry. I totally just-”

“No it’s cool. It makes sense that you’d think that,” Chloe says, giggling. “My friends and I met in college. We were in an a cappella group called ‘The Bellas’ and then a guy threw a big ass burrito on one of them. So. That’s what that is.”

“So,” Beca says, sitting back down, “No burrito-obsessed girlfriend named Bella?”

“Nah.”

After a few more minutes of silence, Beca turns to Chloe to show her some sample stencils. Chloe really likes all of them, even though it is very hard to take a burrito seriously. Chloe points to the one on the left, and Beca tosses the other one onto the table. “So where do you want this thing?”

“Well I don’t really know. I was thinking maybe my shoulder. I don’t know where they’re getting theirs.”

“Shoulder sounds good. I can put a stencil there so you can see what it looks like.” Beca says, printing a second stencil. “Which arm?”

Chloe points to her left. “Do you want me to move my shirt?” She says, nervously fumbling with the hem of her sweater.

“Only if you’re comfy with it, but I don’t know how great I can do it through this. It is recommended.” Beca jokes, before Chloe pulls her top off entirely. Beca gasps, her eyes lingering on Chloe’s toned abs. Beca curses herself. She shouldn’t be flirting with a client.

Beca places the stencil onto Chloe’s left shoulder, and grabs the mirror to show her. “That looks great.”

“Alright, then we can get going. Do you want some tunes? I have a record player back here, you can pick something. But beware. It sounds super hipster coming outta that thing.” Beca says, pulling Chloe in the direction of the record player. Chloe picked Nirvana.

“Good choice.”

Chloe’s eyes follow Beca as the brunette went to the sink to wash her hands. She throws her leather jacket to the chair next to her, revealing a sleeve of patchwork. “Oo. Did you do those yourself? I love that.”

“Some of them,” Beca says, wheeling a cart over to the chair, “What’s your favorite?”

“I like this one,” Chloe says, pointing to a skull with Hozier lyrics next to it.

“Yeah I did that one. I like the skull, but the song isn’t as meaningful as it was when I did it.” She explains, chuckling. “Don’t do song lyrics.”

“Noted.” Chloe mumbles.

“Ready?” Beca says, hooking up the machine.

“Yeah.” Chloe says, exhaling.

Beca reaches for Chloe’s arm, and grabs the machine. Chloe scans over Beca’s sleeve, looking at each tattoo. After a few minutes, Chloe mumbles, “Shit.”

Beca immediately takes the needle away, and sits back in her chair. “Everything okay?” She asks quickly.

“Yeah, I was just thinking about something. Didn’t mean to spook you or anything. It’s all good.”

“Alright.” Beca says, moving back towards the redhead. She continues tattooing, looking up at Chloe each time she felt her tense up. At one point, the redhead moved Beca’s hair out of her face. Beca swears that she saw Chloe bite her lip. The brunette blushed and continued working on Chloe’s arm. Chloe knew what she was doing, and she liked it.

“Okay, I’ll get started on the burrito now. Just to be clear—you wanted a line drawing? Like not shaded in?” Beca asked, moving the needle away from Chloe’s arm.

“Yeah that sounds perfect.” Chloe said.

After a few more minutes of tattooing, Beca tilted her head to the side, running the needle along Chloe’s shoulder. Chloe caught a whiff of Beca’s perfume. She was intoxicated by it. The slight woodsy scent, but not campfire. The sweet scent made Chloe’s mind wander. “Oh my god. What perfume are you wearing? I literally. Like. I just want to keep smelling you. That sounds weird. What is it?” Chloe said, stuttering over almost all of her words.

“Well. Thanks. It’s ‘Sappho’ by Lush. All the girls love it.” Beca said with a wink.

“So that’s the goal?”

“Not always, but it’s appreciated.” Beca flirts, smiling, wiping a towel over Chloe’s shoulder.

“Do you flirt with all of your clients?”

“No. I’m really not supposed to. But you’re making it a little hard at the moment.” Beca says, blushing as she cleans up the cart.

“Oh. Sorry.” Chloe says, feeling a little ashamed.

“Don’t be sorry. I like it,” Beca flirts, writing on a few papers. “Here’s your guide to having a tattoo. Basically what you should and shouldn’t do. And something you should do—uh. My number. It’s in there. I don’t know what you’re into but I’d love to take you out.”

“I’ll definitely call you.” Chloe says, leaving the space.

She meets Amy and Aubrey back at the front, where they compare tattoos and pay. Chloe leaves a nice tip. She makes eye contact with Beca, who is now standing behind the desk, as she exits the shop. Beca sends her another wink.

When Chloe gets into the car, she opens up the paper to find Beca’s number written neatly with a signature next to it, and a heart. She adds Beca’s number to her phone, as they drive away.

#bechloe #pitchperfect #pitchperfectau #tattoo parlor #becamitchell #chloebeale

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dreaming-about-fanfictions · 3 years

Text

Choose Me Instead II Draco Malfoy x Reader II Chapter 17 of 27: Magical

Summary: Pretending to be in a relationship with Draco Malfoy to get back at your ex might have not been the smartest idea you ever had. Especially during your last year of Hogwarts where you should be focusing on exams and your future plans. However, you were just pretending. There was no way in hell you could actually catch feelings for someone like Malfoy. … Right?

CHOOSE ME INSTEAD MASTERLIST CHOOSE ME INSTEAD PLAYLIST

A/N: A few announcements - I took some time off these past two weeks because uni started again and I needed a little time to sort stuff out. Because of that I will from now on post one chapter per week. If sometimes I have time for two, then great, but one chapter per week is my goal for now. I hope that’s okay! Also you lovely people keep sending me song suggestions for this story (I wanna cry everytime you do that) and I compiled a little playlist. You can find it here if you don’t have spotify! I love you all so much! For now - enjoy the chapter! Words: 3.4k Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!Reader, post war Warnings: ... making out, I guess?

“Draco …”, you sighed softly when his lips wandered down your neck. “We’ll be late …”

“Hmm,” the tone vibrated against your skin and his hot breath caused a shiver to run down your spine.

“We should really go,” you whispered.

“In a minute,” he replied, his eyes closed as his lips searched for yours. They met and his hands found your hips, pressing his body up against yours. You gasped but the sound was drowned by him. The kiss became faster, his tongue slipping into your mouth. Your head was spinning and you felt light-headed as if you were high up on the clouds and not in an empty classroom in the dungeons of Hogwarts. The Slytherin seemed to have that effect on you and you already knew that the moment he pulled away, your body would be trembling, aching for more for him.

Draco’s fingers tugged at the hem of your shirt, pulling it out of your skirt until you felt his hands on your bare skin. This was the moment where your eyes fluttered open and you turned your head to the side, breaking the kiss. Turning back, he looked at you confused and out of breath. His usually perfect hair was messy, his lips red and puffy. The green and silver tie around hung loosely around his neck and the first buttons of his shirt were already opened, barely covering up the red lines of a hickey you’d given him.

You had done it to tease him, knowing how much he despised marks or blemishes on his body but it had only ended with him, pulling you in here and pressing you up against the cold stone wall. “Seems like I need to teach you a lesson,” he had grumbled, his eyes suddenly black as the night and your melted right then and there, trembling with excitement.

Now, he stared at you with a hunger in his eyes that made it clear to you, he wasn’t ready to leave yet. You, however, didn’t want to miss the announcement the Headmistress so mysteriously wanted to give tonight at supper.

“We only have around five or ten minutes to get there,” you repeated yourself. “Let’s go!”

He rolled his eyes and leaned forward, his forehead resting against yours. “Why do you want to go so badly?”, he asked. “The others can tell us later –”

“But I want to hear it. It sounded important.”

“Speaking from experience, most things our headmasters or headmistresses announce is less important than they think.”

You chuckled. “That’s your opinion. I’m also hungry.”

“Yeah, me too,” he replied and tilted his head again. Before he could press his lips against yours, he was stopped by your finger on his mouth.

You chuckled. “Draco.”

“Ugh,” he sighed dramatically and let go of you. “Fine…”

“Stop whining,” you laughed and reached down to grab the robe that he had pulled down your shoulders just minutes earlier. He only smirked at you.

The last two weeks were a blurr. You were drawn to one another, addicted, starving for each other. Lighting struck in your hearts with every whisper, every kiss, every touch. He never left your mind, all your thoughts circled around him. Around being close to him. Being with him. It was ridiculous how much your body longed to feel him against yours. He made you feel things you didn’t know existed. In conclusion, it wasn’t possible to describe the time with him adequately. Magical was a word the muggles would probably use.

Sometimes, in the quiet moments, when you watched him work in the library or nod off in the Room of Requirements, a thought entered your mind. It crept up like a monster behind his prey, careful and silent but just as dangerous: This isn’t friendship.

You shut it out but it kept coming back. Waking you in the middle of the night, distracting you when you studied, made you forget your homework. Until now, you were successful in ignoring it. However, along with the thought came the fear that it wouldn’t leave you.

Headmistress McGonagall was in the middle of her speech when the two of you arrived. You glared at Draco, silently saying “I told you so” before you sat down next to Ginny. She grinned at you and wiggled her eyebrows, guessing where you had come from. You rolled your eyes.

“… Winter Dance.”

You looked up abruptly when McGonagall said those words. She made a pause as if she wanted to see the reactions of her students. They started to murmur and giggle, excitement filled the room like a buzz. She stopped it with a wave of her hand.

“The last time, Hogwarts has hosted such an event was during the Triwizard Tournament”, McGonagall continued. “It feels like a long time ago. This particular school year ended in tragedy when we lost our dear student and friend, Cedric Diggory.” Another pause. “We experienced the Dance however as something beautiful that brought us and you closer together. This is why we, the staff and our Prefects,” she turned to smile at the mentioned people, “decided to make the Winter Dance a yearly tradition. In February of each year, we will come together to celebrate and dance.”

When she ended, the Hall erupted into clapping and cheers. Ginny nudged you excitedly, already making plans for you to go to Hogsmeade to shop for a dress during the next weekend.

“The Winter Dance will be held in two weeks,” the Headmistress announced. “I expect you to wear formal, appropriate attire. Other than that –”, a smile showed on her face, “– I expect you to have fun.”

With that, she snapped her fingers and food appeared on the long tables. The Hall was filled with noise in seconds. You felt the excitement in the air and when Draco winked at you from across the Slytherin table and you couldn’t suppress the smile, you understood the other students.

A ball.

A real ball. With dresses and music and delicious food and everyone having fun. Everyone being normal. Just like the Yule Ball. It seemed so long ago yet you remembered every detail of the night. Getting ready with Ginny, nervously waiting for your date, clumsily dancing and trying not to step on his feet. To be fair, you had gotten much better since then. When your father found out that you tripped twice during the night, he spent the also summer between your third and fourth year teaching you how to dance. The memory gave you a feeling of warmth. Oh, how happy and simple your life once was.

“I suppose you’re going with Malfoy?”, Ginny interrupted your thoughts.

You didn’t answer her question. “I suppose you’re going with Harry?”

She frowned. “Of course, we’re dating.”

You looked at her with a raised eyebrow. It clicked in her brain and Ginny nodded slowly. “Right yes, I keep thinking this all just a feverish dream and you’re not really with him.”

“Stop being rude, Ginny,” Hermione chimed in before taking a sip from her drink.

“She can handle it,” the Weasley girl replied and grinned at you.

You chuckled. “Thank you, Hermione,” you said nonetheless. “However, let’s focus on the more important things here.”

Both of the girls looked at you with question marks in their eyes.

“We need to get to Hogsmeade before Parkinson and the whole bunch can buy the good dresses.”

***

One week later …

Draco flinched.

You stopped and looked up at him. He was on his back, shirtless, the covers pulled up just to hips, one arm behind his head, the other one straight next to his body. Although his eyes were closed, you noticed the way he clenched his jaw.

It was quiet in the Room of Requirements. Right now, it had changed to a small room with only a large bed in front of a window from which you were able to see the Black Lake and the stunning Scottish landscape behind it.

“Does it hurt?”, you whispered.

“Yes,” he replied. “No, I … I can’t describe it.” He let out a deep breath.

“Hmm,” you hummed and your eyes trailed back over his toned chest down to his left arm. The eyes of the snake in his black tattoo seemed to be staring back at you. In your mind, you were curious to see how it looked when it was moving.

“Do you think it should hurt?”, you asked then.

Draco opened his eyes. They found you right away. “I have a therapist for that, you know.”

You smiled cheekily at him.

He turned on his side, using his left arm to prop himself up. Right in that moment, the first rays of the sun hit the window. The light made his skin shimmer golden and it took your breath away for a second. People disagreed on so many things about Draco Malfoy but you were convinced there was one thing, everyone – even a blind person – had to admit: he was drop dead gorgeous.

“You’re beautiful,” he mumbled. His expression was serious, not even the hint of a smile. “I can say that, right? As a friend?”

The sudden tone that changed from earnest to teasing, made you snort. “It’s possible to find people attractive without having feelings for them. You’re not blind, are you?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “I’m definitely not.” After a moment of silence, he then asked: “Have you found a dress yet?”

“Going today before breakfast.”

“Before?”, he raised an eyebrow. That meant you had to leave soon.

You nodded. “We want to get there before Parkinson and the rest.”

“I feel like Weasley and Pansy have quite different price ranges, so she doesn’t have to worry,” Draco remarked.

“But Parkinson and I don’t,” you replied and tried your best not to roll your eyes at his comment.

“True,” he shrugged. “I’d love to buy a dress.”

The statement took you by surprise. You blinked. Draco smiled sadly. It took you an embarrassing long time to understand. From what money. “One day,” you said softly. “Times will change for your family. I’m sure of it.”

There was an awkward moment of silence in which Draco just looked at you, an unreadable expression on his face. Then he shifted and so did the blanket on his hips, you noticed. When he saw how your eyes wandered down his body, he smirked. “When do you have to leave?”

“Thirty minutes.”

“I can work with that.”

***

You were the first customers of the day. The store was still closed when Hermione, Ginny and you arrived.

“See, it’s not even open yet. There was no reason for you to be mad at me!”, you exclaimed when you stood in front of the door and saw the ‘Closed’-sign.

“You were twenty minutes late!”, Hermione snapped. Her cheeks were red. You didn’t know if the running or the anger caused it but you were not sure if you wanted to.

“Yeah, well, I was busy …,” you mumbled. “Doing things …”

“Do those things have Malfoy as their last name?”, Ginny asked.

You cleared your throat. “Maybe?”

There was a brief moment of silence in which your friends just looked at you. Then, suddenly, both of them started laughing.

“Just the thought …”, Ginny shivered.

“People like Malfoy don’t have sex, it’s just, no, my mind doesn’t know what to do with this information,” Hermione shook her head.

You snorted at their reactions. It was freezing cold out here and so you began to rock back and forth on your heels. “They do,” you said to Hermione. “Believe me, they do.”

“Is he any good though?”, Ginny wanted to know. “Or is he into some weird kinky Slytherin –”

Luckily, she was cut off when the door opened and a small, old lady looked at you. “Are you here for the Winter Dance?”

***

In all your time at Hogwarts, you had never stepped foot into this shop. For the Yule Ball, your parents had sent you a dress so you really never had a reason to come here.

You were surprised though by the sheer abundance of dresses and suits pressed into the small store. Every color you could think of, tulle and lace and velvet and satin – you and your friends were speechless when you walked in.

“There’s just … so much,” Hermione stammered.

“Yes, dear,” the old lady nodded eagerly. “When we heard about the Winter Dance, we made as many dresses as we could in the short time.”

“They’re all so beautiful,” you said.

“Thank you! They are the best quality in all of Scotland!”, she replied shortly. “How about you take a seat and I will present you with some options that I’d think would look stunning on you pretty girls.”

And with that, she hurried off. Your friends looked at one another before going over to the small couch on the other end of the store. It was located in front of the dressing rooms and a huge mirror.

Hermione was first. She had a pretty clear vision of what she wanted to wear and the old lady picked out the perfect dress right on the first try. It was a gorgeous red ballgown with a sweetheart-neckline. She looked like a goddess.

“Ron will faint,” you remarked and she giggled.

Ginny was next. For her, it was more difficult. She tried on six dresses, in colors from bright pink to black. In the end, she settled for a yellow dress. It clashed with her red-hair in the best way possible and you wondered how it was possible for any guy not to fall in love with her. She was excited when she saw herself in the mirror, turning and twirling in front of it – but her joy was ended abruptly when the old lady mentioned the price.

“I told you my price range,” Ginny said distraught.

“I’m sorry, dear,” she sighed. “But what you wanted … it wasn’t possible.”

“Then why didn’t you say something?”

Hermione looked over at you and you understood immediately. “We’ll pay for it,” you chimed in.

Ginny turned to you and shook her head violently. “No, absolutely not.” You had expected that reaction. She was just as proud as the rest of the family.

“It’s fine, Ginny,” Hermione smiled at her.

“No, it’s not!”

“It’s an early birthday gift?”, you tried to offer.

“No!”

“Okay, how about that,” you began, “we only pay the difference. And we’ll split it in half so it’s not too bad.”

Ginny hesitated.

“Just promise us to get us free tickets for your Quidditch games once you’re famous,” Hermione added.

Finally, she smiled. Very hesitantly but she did. “Fine then.”

You were next. Not sure what you’d like, you told the lady to just bring any dresses she’d like to see on you. In this moment, you wished for your mother to be here. No matter how difficult of a person she was, she had an immaculate sense of style. She would have walked in here and picked the right dress immediately.

However, the old lady seemed to have the same gift. When you saw yourself in that first dress, you swallowed heavily. You hardly recognized the woman in the mirror.

“Oh it’s gorgeous,” Hermione commented. “That’s the one, no question.”

Ginny nodded in agreement.

It was a dark blue dress, flowing down, hugging and accentuating all the right parts of your body. There were little gemstones woven in the fabric of the skirt, making it sparkle with every movement of yours. It must cost a fortune. Luckily, your father still felt guilty for what happened last Christmas and told you to not look on the price tag and to simply send him the bill.

“His favourite colour is green.”

You were so stunned by the dress that you didn’t notice how the door opened and someone stepped in. You looked up, only to see the judging faces of your three Slytherin best friends: Astoria Greengrass, accompanied by her sister and Parkinson.

Astoria stared at you and didn’t even try to hide the fact that she despised seeing you here. “His favourite colour,” she repeated herself. “It’s green.”

Oh, so she wanted to pick a fight.

You frowned, not sure what to say at first.

“Oh, fuck off, Greengrass,” Ginny shot at her, coming to your rescue.

“Wow, a Weasel? In here? You sure you can aff–”

Before she finished her sentence and Ginny got a chance to physically fight her, you raised your voice: “It’s not.”

Astoria focused her attention back on you. Confused, you noticed how her sister – Daphne – rolled her eyes and stepped away, clearly not interested in this petty drama. Parkinson stayed and watched the two of you curiously.

“Excuse me?”, Astoria said.

“His favourite colour isn’t green,” you explained with a soft voice. “It’s this one actually. Blue.”

She blinked.

“And some small piece of advice,” you continued, “wear what you’re comfortable with not what you think men like Draco want.”

In the corner of your eye, you saw Hermione looking down on her feet. The corners of her mouth twitched. Ginny on the other hand didn’t hide the wide grin on her face.

If looks could kill, you’d be dead by now. “Luckily with my body I’m comfortable in everything,” she said coldly.

You smiled. “Okay then. Good for you.”

***

Two weeks later …

“If you don’t want me looking like a house-elf, I have to leave now to get ready!”, you giggled.

Draco ignored you and lowered his head to kiss you again. He was heavy against your body as he pinned you down and when your lips met, a sigh escaped you. He replied by only deepening the kiss – his tongue twined with yours and your fingers tangled in his hair. Draco groaned when you pulled at it and suddenly he changed positions, yanking you up and pulling you in his lap.

You gasped when you felt him, growing more excited already, and pressed yourself against him, biting down on his lip. Dracos hands tightened on your hips and he moved down to where the skirt from your uniform was already riding up. When you felt his touch against your skin, you broke the kiss.

“What?”, he asked, his eyes dark and hungry.

“I have to go now,” you repeated yourself.

He groaned and let his head fall against the back of the couch. You smirked. “And you need to get ready as well.”

“You’re a tease,” he mumbled and you laughed. “Why don’t we just skip the Dance?”, Draco then asked.

You shook your head. “Because I’ve been looking forward to this for two weeks now.”

“But we’d have so much fun,” Draco tried to argue. You felt his fingers drawing circles on your upper thigh and shivered. His eyes lit up at the reaction. “The castle will be empty. Can you imagine all the rooms we could do it in? How about the Slytherin common –”

You quickly put a finger on his lips to stop him from talking. “I want to go dance though, Draco.” You lowered your voice: “Besides, don’t you want to see me in my dress?”

“Mhh,” he hummed. “I do. You could only wear it for me?”

You chuckled again and leaned forward to give him a quick kiss.

“So that’s a no?”, he asked when you pulled back.

“No.” You shook your head.

Draco sighed dramatically. “Fine then.”

You smiled at him and kissed him another time, a little longer this time, a little more teasing. “It’ll be fun,” you whispered against his lips. “See you later.” He groaned defeatedly when you got up from his lap.

You reached for your bag and cloak and after a little wave of your hand, you walked towards the door. “Oh and Draco?”, you remembered something. “I’m never gonna do it in the Slytherin common room with you.”

You knew he was smirking without turning around.

“You say that now but wait until –”

The door fell shut before you heard the end of his sentence. ***

A/N: I hope you liked it! <3

CHAPTER 18 Choose Me Instead Masterlist HP Masterlist Tag List: @writerdee1701, @youareinllve, @sjmahoney, @detroitobsessed, @takura-rin, @jadam268, @wynterwind, @renaissance-confiance, @harpoon999, @doitforthevine67, @rinasrights, @flowerpowerpixie, @gold-flowing, @starkssnarks, @bookcornerkins, @harpersmariano, @markedsweetly, @iraniq, @pointlesscoconut, @hvrcruxes, @pillowjj, @idkatee, @magicwithaknife, @graystherapy, @scoote-rankle, @nxstalgicnxbxdy, @sunsetsofanemoia, @tommy-holland, @lordfxxker, @streetfighterrichie, @awaken-the-sirens, @destiels-assbutt13, @pockitparks, @just-addicted-to-bangtan, @cuddlykoala101, @zpandaqueen, @natsiboo, @jjjmaybank, @justmesadgirl, @books-and-tings, @slytherinprincedracom, @katiaw2, @saintkore, @nctnight, @lifestragedy, @obxmxybxnk, @spideydobik , @ladylizzieofdarbyshire, @aspiring-ginger, @dracomalfoyswifey, @jpow345, @realistic-breadstick, @abbs-is-tired, @alwaysbeanunknownfan, @niallsarmveinstho, @is-this-a-febreze-commercial, @acciowilltolive, , @sexytholland, @faangirl101, @donttellany1iusetumbler, @mendesmuffinsss, @lilxnvm, @kill-the-teen-memories, @darkusangelus, @itsbebeyyy, @hesaidimcrazy, @jenniweaslee, @hpxpjo, @brisbubble, @xomaymay, @shitnstuffillregret, @serialkillme, @angel-tears15, @panicattheeverywherekid, @obsssedwithjustaboutanything, @nobleking, @tashii-blr, @ddaeing, @randogirlo-fando-main, @sadgirlnumber92899, @captivateing, @bitchyegirl, @smiithys, @ninipoo1, @intheawks, @nothanksnyla, @calpal-4ever, @dracosathenaeum, @belsandthings, , @kiwi-sloan, @xdmx, @lexi-ravenclawdracomalfoy, @kvyenxay, @live-awkward, @babebenhardy, @bitchysweets-blog, @cravingmusic, @frau-moon, @ohissandhalasta, @broken-but-beautiful-cassie, @lil-black-heart, @vminenthusiastt, @dracos-sluts, @ohbabycal, @saucysuazo, @fuzzzwald, @matsuno-nadeshiko, @amber-arsenault , @loveableasshole, @spideycures, @echpr, @shiningstar-byulxx, @twinklebug2282, @bloodiedroses, @klthmef, @ostorian , @bi-chai-tea, @maddieisnotok, @amandaluvssupernatural, @makeoutwithstiles, @i-am-addicted-to-tea, @tenclouds, @lovingdracomalfoy, @lannaax, @dr-bitch-bby, @fallinallinmendes, @suckerforparker, @runninglownad, @piercinghorizons, @dosicas, @yanaaaaaaa, @desertdwellerwitch, @bittersweetthoughts–ofinsanity, @akzer300500, @bbeautyybbx, @hoseokslily, @dracofeltonmalfoy, @emilianamason, @tothemoonwithclifford, @gcldreinhart , @angelofthorr, @k-k0129, @musicalmuffindog1410, @andydre4m, @mxl-foyrecs, @seeinorange, @vlgsqd , @justmimithings, @allthevoicesinmyhead, @pipppaaaaalouisee, @yessirrz, @2think2twice2 @spencerreidisbootiful, @find-a-little-faith, @thatguppienamedbae, @mimi15aguayo, @emmamarie7708, @dontpanicitsdan If you want to be added to my tag list, let me know!

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honey-makki · 4 years

Text

Firsts

Characters: Tsukishima Kei X Fem!Reader

Summary: Fate works in mysterious ways to bring people who are destined to be together, to actually be together.

Warnings: Sex!! blow jobs, face riding, virginity loss

Genre: fluff, smut

Word Count: 5k

A/N: Well this started as a drabble request but here I am a week later with a 5k fic about it. Soft tsukki inbound. I hope you enjoy @salty4tsukki bc I def enjoyed writing this.

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Being an only child is not a precursor to being lonely. Memories of family game nights, shared dinners and movies watched filled the air of your house letting you know that you were both never alone and, oh, so loved.

You knew that having as healthy a home environment was unusual and that it was part of the reason that you are so emotionally intelligent. Many of your peers couldn’t stand their parents and found every excuse to avoid being home. Sure, you and your parents had arguments about curfew or the number of texts you sent every month. The last argument happened every time you brought home a grade that was unsatisfactory, which wasn’t often, but consistent enough that it was a recurring problem.

��I’m just tired of them expecting me to be perfect! It’s unreasonable for them to expect perfect grades, being on a starter for the soccer team, and involved in other clubs! I’m only one person.” You ranted to Tsukki, sulking around his room before plopping on his bed, arms covering your sighing face. Tsukki was the only person you came to with family problems because you knew he would understand and not push you. The usually sassy boy always softened these days, knowing that this was the one thing that you couldn’t handle being teased about. Today, he looked at you with soft pity, knowing the amount of work you put towards everything just to be told it’s not enough.

“I could tutor you in English if you want? I know we have our usual pre-exam study sessions, but I really don’t mind making them more regular if you think they would help.” Tsukki might listen to you complain but he still isn’t the best at empathy, rather resorting to problem-solving. He showed his care and compassion to you subtly. Offering his solutions in a way you could make them sound like your own, knowing that provided a semblance of comfort. Allowing you into his room whenever you needed to complain and not questioning your feelings. Always offering you a hoodie or jacket when you were worn out from crying, knowing that the warmth would lull you into a much-needed sleep

You knew he cared about you. Yes, sometimes you over exaggerated your feelings to take advantage of that, but only because you wanted his jacket on your body. The thought that it was his arms rather than just a Tsukki scented cloth surrounding you. Only crying a little harder with the hopes he would offer to have a movie night which always meant cuddles. No, you never faked your feelings to him, not wanting to lie to your best friend and consistent childhood companion, you just embellished them.

Relishing in the fact that for maybe, just ten minutes that Tsukki wasn’t just your best friend, that he grew past friends as he aged, and saw you like more, as his other half. The person he wanted to spend not only his childhood years with but also every single one he still had left.

You aren’t sure when you fell in love with Tsukishima Kei.

It could have been his moment against Shiratorizawa when you saw him truly experience joy for the first time in the sport he spent so much time. It could have been the time he gave you his rain jacket when it was pouring before you walked home, knowing it wouldn’t do much against the downpour, but the barrier being symbolic. It could definitely have been the time you went over to study and you walked in on him singing to himself while studying, the soft tenor notes gracing your ears. You only really remember how his voice made your heart skip a beat, the flush of his ears when he turned around catching your eyes.

All you know is that you were hopelessly in love with the man who had been with you every step, every stumble of your life. The man who towered over you but never made you feel smaller than he, the man that laughed before checking on you when you tripped, but always ensuring you were truly ok.

Watching him grow into his height and his body gaining muscles during highschool was both a blessing and a curse. Your eyes were drawn to his figure, shoulders hunched over on his desk, deltoids peeking out of the sleeves in a way that made you want more. Yes, you loved looking at him but sometimes it plagued you.

Eyes scrunched shut and heavy breathing, all you can think about is what Tsukki might look like under those clothes. It was a curse, lewd thoughts of your best friend being the only way you could get off anymore. That didn’t stop you from plunging two fingers in and out for your dripping cunt edging yourself closer to your release. At the precipice, you pull your fingers out and eagerly circle your clit, the other hand moving from gripping the bedsheets to pulling at and groping your nipples. Tsukki’s name leaves your lips like a fervent prayer as you cum to the thought of him. You never felt worse about yourself than you did at this moment, but somehow you found yourself here regularly.

You didn’t know that at that exact same moment Tsukki was in his room thinking about you. The way your smaller hands would fit around his dick, the hesitation you might experience but be driven forward by lust. The thought of being the first and maybe the only person to touch you always drives him to his release.

He might have fooled around with some girls before, a handjob here and there, amidst a make-out session, but he could never find it in himself to go further. He couldn’t, no, didn’t want to be with anyone else, because he knew that the whole time he would be thinking about you under him.

As you had aged, sleepovers became less frequent but were something the two of you still cherished and actively made time for. Tonight is one such night, having just finished your final midterms and gorging yourself on celebratory ramen from your favorite shop. Tsukki’s parents were out of town for the week, but were used to your presence in the house and didn’t mind you being over.

You being there should have been fine, nothing out of the normal but that's not how fate works.

Once you arrived at his place you both changed into lounge clothes getting ready to binge the latest season of Game of Thrones. You went to the kitchen to grab you both some water, knowing neither of you will want to get up once you start.

Tsukki must have had the same idea because as you rounded the corner of the kitchen, you were met with a brick wall and a frigid wave running through your body. You realized it wasn't through your body when your nipples began to harden, peaking through your now translucent shirt. While you are still shocked at the chill, Tsukki looks down to see what happened. Instead what he sees is you, accidentally exposed, the white shirt clinging to the curve of your body like a second layer of skin.

He knows that if he doesn’t avert his gaze that he won't be able to suppress a rising tent in his pants. Committing the image to memory quickly, he apologizes for being in the way, “Shit Y/N, I’m sorry. Feel free to go grab one of my shirts to change into. I’ll clean the mess up.” With that, he moves towards the kitchen to grab a towel, brushing against your body in the narrow hallway.

You head up to his room and go to his dresser, you’ve watched him put his laundry away before, knowing exactly where he keeps his biggest and most comfortable shirts. You strip off your shirt, skin pebbling at the breeze from his fan. Blushing at the fact you are taking your clothes off in your crush childhood friend room, you strip off your lounge shorts now noticing they also have been soaked.

As you pull his practice jersey on you notice it reaches your midthigh, which causes a brief internal conflict. Should I grab a pair of his shorts even though I know they’ll be too big? This shirt is longer than my shorts were anyways, but it’s not the most decent thing. The deciding factor in opting for no shorts was nothing to do with you, rather with the man waiting patiently downstairs. It had everything to do with the glint of intrigue in Tsukki’s eye you spotted earlier, the almost imperceptible hitch in his breath, and the burning touch he left on your body as he passed you in the hallway.

Tsukki was not even thinking about what you would look like in his clothes as he had more urgent problems. His cock was achingly hard in his sweatpants, the gray not doing him any favors of hiding how he felt about seeing your body. He was doing everything he could think of to suppress both the thoughts of you and blood rushing downstairs.

After quickly cleaning up the spill, he got situated on the couch with a blanket hoping it would help hide his current problem as he got it under control. Tsukki spent the remaining time of your absence struggling to distract himself, reciting poetry meditating, anything to not think about it, think about you, think about the curve of your che- fuck he was failing.

His eyes shot open at your weight landing next to him on the couch. Subtly looking over your form, that he now has burned into the back of his eyelids, seeing you drowning in his clothes, his volleyball clothes. Wait, is she just wearing my shirt? His gaze lingering on the soft expanse of your thighs, knowing that he should be able to see the hem of your shorts with the way you are sitting. The thought of you in your underwear almost makes him moan, his already hard dick twitching with precum budding at the tip.

You shoot him a smile, apologizing for taking so long and say you're ready to watch if he is. After some time has passed, the air is nipping at on your still slightly wet skin, you scoot closer to Tsukki and get under the blanket with him. The slight abrasion from his sweats on your skin sent electricity tingling throughout your body and unknowingly did the same to him.

Reaching forward to grab a glass of water after a particularly gruesome scene, your phone tumbled out of your lap. Not really thinking you lean forward and grab it, slightly raising your ass into the air to reach the last few inches. You plop back down with a grunt and throw your arms open, hoping Tsukki would know that this is your way of saying you needed to take a break from the show for a bit.

Neither of you expected the moan that escaped his lips as you brushed across his now very obvious erection. Neither of you knew what to do after either, he flushed red with embarrassment and hid his face, you with your arm still where it landed on his thigh, unable to move. “Y/N, can you please move?.” he barely chokes out. The obvious restraint in his voice was a sound you had only previously daydreamed of.

Driven by lust, or excitement, maybe even fear that another opportunity would arise, you do move, but not in the way he had intended. You get up off the couch and he's sure that you are getting ready to leave, disgusted with him, but instead, you settle in on your knees between his thighs. Doey-eyes looking up through your lashes with hesitant excitement. “Ok, I’ve moved, what next?”

Is the one thing he dreamed about is really happening? The actuality of it seems almost incredulous. “Y/N, stop joking, I’m sorry about this. They just kinda, happen sometimes.” He can’t meet your eye because he’s sure he would cum just from the sight of you between his legs.

“If you don't want me here Kei, I’ll move, but I’m serious.” As you say his first name, another moan comes from his throat, spurring you to action. Biting your lip, you move the blanket and hesitantly grasp his erection.

Tsukki is hazy with confusion but simultaneously everything is crystal clear with pleasure, unable to focus on anything due to the duality inside his head. Even if he wanted to tell you to stop, to stop and think, he wouldn’t be able to choke out the words.

He notices you aren’t really moving which is driving him mad until he looks down and sees just how pure you look. “Kei, I don’t-- I don’t really know what to do. Just tell me what you like and I’ll do my best.”

“Princess, are you sure you still want to do this?” as he pulls you up to eye level, cupping your cheeks. Seeing your nod and nervous smile, he leans forward to kiss you.

The chill that had previously permeated your body is replaced with warmth, the feeling of his soft lips moving in time with yours, his gentle but assertive grip on your back acting as heat sources. It’s a comfortable warmth, an invitation into him.

You plan on taking that invitation as he deepens the kiss, one hand in the hair at his nape, the other returning to palm him through his sweats. As he stops your kiss, holding in a groan you take that opportunity to return to your original position in front of him. Waiting patiently, looking up at him for instruction with an absolutely pornographic gaze.

Tsukki thought the image of your chest was the best thing he would ever see, but this takes the cake. Your hands playing with the waistband, with slight hesitation before pulling both his bowers and sweats down with his assistance.

You knew what a dick looked like, but that doesn’t mean you are any less intimidated when one is just a few inches from your face. Long and curved, a prominent vein running up to the head that is flushed red and slick with precum. His hand rests on your head with the other on his thigh. Seeing his excitement on his face gives you enough encouragement to kitten lick his tip two times. “Fuck Y/N, please don’t tease me,” his voice wavering between a moan and a whine, you’ve never heard him sound so dependent, so needy before.

Knowing that you are the one doing this to him gives you the confidence to start taking his dick in your mouth. You pause at the head, moving your tongue around, unsure what feels good until his grip on your head tightens as you rub against the bottom, just before the shaft. “Fuck pretty girl, please move your head down, please I wan--” A groan cuts him off as you follow his command. Slowly starting to bob along a portion of his length, with increasing speed.

“Spit on your hand and stroke the rest, god your mouth is heavenly” after pulling off to follow his command, you finally notice the familiar Tsukki-induced burning in your stomach, but amplified by a hundred when you see his cock twitch as you spit into your hand. He watched you with half-lidded eyes as you positioned your hand under your mouth, whispering uncharacteristically gentle words of praise.

Soft moans fall out of his mouth as you swirl your tongue around his head on every upward movement. Your hand mimicking the speed of your lips, trying to give him as much pleasure as you can. One particular comment of his shoots straight to your core, “Y/N, I never imagined you would make me feel this good.” The implication of him thinking about this, the same way you have, makes you moan around his dick, which in turn elicits a sharp intake from Tsukki.

His grip has been tightening on your head slowly, but all of a sudden he pulls you off. “Don’t wanna cum in your mouth without asking, just hand me a tissue.”

You never imagined Tsukki making the type of sound he did when you artlessly stuttered out “W-Well you have my permission.”

Returning your tongue to his tip, which is now angrily red and coated in both spit and precum, it only takes a few seconds before he bucks into your mouth as he orgasms. His cock reaches further than you expected resulting in you choking as he hits the back of your throat, unintentionally intensifying his orgasm.

He pulls you off of him, grimacing at the cold air hitting his spent dick, bending forward to look you in the eye.. “Pretty girl, I’m so sorry for that last bit, I didn’t mean to hurt you. Are you ok?”

The pressure of his thumb wiping off a few spare tears makes you wonder what his touch would feel like on the rest of your body. As your mind delves into lewd thoughts, you shift your thighs looking for some pleasure, and give him an absentminded “It was fine, unexpected but I wanna make you feel good.”

He carefully sits you in his lap and pulls you into a deep kiss, slow but hungry. He moves down your jaw to your neck before whispering “Well, I guess it’s my turn to return the favor huh.” You bite back your moan, but as he harshly sucks a spot at the base of your neck it slips out. “You don’t have to hide your noises, princess, let me know how good everything feels.”

He runs his hands up and down your sides underneath his shirt before they find your chest. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve imagined these.” You tug your shirt off and do the same to him. Both of you are just marveling at the beauty in front of you with lust.

He makes the first move, gently bringing your right nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, as his left-hand switches randomly between rubbing along your side and massaging your left boob. The warmth of his tongue flicking against your pebbled bud is miles better than your own fingers, endless breathy moans falling out of your mouth as you find purchase for your hands in his hair.

You must be unconsciously rutting against him because he stops his ministrations and stills your hips with a harsh grip. “Feeling needy now? Let me take care of you.” Tsukki rolls you off of him and you expect him to get on his knees in front of you, making you clench your knees both out of excitement and embarrassment.

So when he lays down on the floor in front of you and shoots you a smug smirk, “Come take a seat,” your jaw drops in shock.

“No, Tsukki, you don't have- What if I don’t taste good, please don’t worry about it-I don't want to suffoc-” excuses and concerns pour out of your mouth but your body betrays you at the thought of him licking your sex.

“Y/N. Get over here. I want to do this and I’ll ensure you enjoy it.” His tone was commanding enough that you moved from the couch to straddling his head without a thought, losing your panties along the way. Your mind is murky with lust and anticipation, thoughts of how many times you’ve imagined his tongue on your clit being the only thing breaking through the fog.

His tongue pierces through the haze as he runs the flat of it along your entire soaked core. Your body wants to pull away from the pressure but buck into the pleasure at the same time but Tsukki makes the decision for you, wrapping his arms around your thighs so you are snug against his face.

He repeats the action, trying to coax a moan out of you, adding a little more force each time. It isn’t until the bridge of his nose brushes your clit that you finally let out the noises you’ve held in. “Kei- hi- fuck- higher,” breathy moans coat your words in lust.

“Your wish is my command, princess.” His smug tone would have been annoying except for the fact that he was pressing hesitant licks against your clit eventually circling it with the tip of his tongue. You have no control over the whines you are making, only broken up by saying “yes Kei, yes, fuck” and other words of praise

Knowing how it felt when you moaned around his dick, he tries humming with his lips surrounding your clit and if he wasn’t already hard, he sure is now after the way you lewdly moaned his name and fiercely tugged his hair.

The view of your tits heaving along with your breaths drive him to be a little more aggressive with his tongue, mercilessly switching between toying with your folds to harshly drawing shapes into your clit.

Your cunt is drowning Tsukki in slick, coating his face and chin and he’s never been happier. Sucking your folds and using his tongue to taste all of you. He can't believe that anything has ever tasted better than you do right now.

He can tell by the legs squeezing his head, and the shake of your entire body you are close to your orgasm. Wanting to try something new, he slides his tongue into your hole, causing you to grip his blonde locks so hard, you probably pulled some out.

The wanton moans reverberating through the room are the only encouragement he needs to keep pressing his tongue against your tight walls. Your cunt so desperately wants to be filled its almost sucking his tongue in, but you know that alone won’t be enough to make you cum.

“ ‘m close, fuck. Please my clit, Kei please” The loss of his pressure in your cunt is overridden by the shockwaves of his lips around your clit, paired with him tracing letters and a deep moan from his throat. That was all you needed to be pushed over the edge. His moan continues as you ride out your high, hips jerking forward at the intensity.

As he pulls you into a sitting position on his lap, “Obviously I didn’t need instructions on how to make you feel good. I’ve thought about this for years.” You aren’t clear-headed enough to slap him like you usually would. All you can think about is the painful tension already building again in your core and his painfully hard dick pressed into your thigh.

You pull him into a kiss that conveys your unspoken words. Full of need and lust and wanting to make up for all of the time you lost. Your lips meet his harshly, like if you stop that it might disappear, afraid to pull back for air.

As he moves to your neck you instinctively rut your hips against him, looking for some form of release. Growling into your ear, “Oh, so one wasn't good enough for you? You want another orgasm?”

“Well, It’s obvious you want another one,” matching his smugness with another roll that causes him to groan.

Before you can recognize it, he's flipped you over on your back and is hovering over you, eyes committing every inch of you to memory, drinking in the sight of your body, pebbled nipples, slick coating your thighs, love marks he's left thus far. It’s almost enough to make him go feral.

Almost.

“Y/N, are you sure you want to do this? We can stop. I really don’t mind.” The concern in his voice is clearly fighting against the lust, just barely winning over his more carnal desires. His answer comes in the form of your hand grabbing his dick and giving it a few soft, needy strokes.

“Please Tsukki, I need you in me. I’ve thought about this for so long, no way am I stopping”

“Alright pretty girl,” and with that he returns to your deep kiss, your lips feeling like a home he never knew he left. He brings his hand down to your core, ghosting his fingers on your lips before teasing one finger in slowly.

You hiss at the pleasure, hands finding stability rooted in his shoulders. He takes your bottom lip in between his teeth to help distract you while he rocks it in and out of your pussy. Quickly, he could tell that you were ready for a second and slipped it in, being met with you clawing at his shoulders while letting out a wanton moan.

Tsukki moves to place wet kisses along your neck and down to your chest, sucking every once in a while and then following it with a swipe of his tongue. You miss the pressure on your mouth, but you can feel another orgasm building, and it's getting harder to breathe.

You genuinely do stop breathing when he takes one nipple in his mouth and uses his free hand to start rubbing circles into your clit. Well, if this is the way I die, I don’t really have any complaints. The coil in your stomach is about to snap and the only warning you can get out is slapping his shoulders.

The wave almost knocks you out, back arching off the floor while also trying to get more from the man between your legs. Inserting a third finger stretched you so good, he watches you try to fuck yourself on his hand through the orgasm, greedily wanting more.

“You ready, pretty girl? Ready to take my cock?”

“Shit yes, Kei, please fuck me. I’ve dreamed about cumming on your dick, please please--” you are reduced to babbling pleas when he runs his dick along your slit coating himself in your slick. The jolt of pleasure every time his head hits your already over-stimulated bud edges on pain but you don’t want him to stop.

You see stars and hear symphonies when he thrusts into you. A duet of his staccato grunts and your euphonic moans, accompanied by the fortissimo sounds of your pussy as he slides in. After taking a rest for you to adjust to his girth, his pace starts off slow but gradually increasing as you beg him for more.

“Fuck, please, fill me up, god I never thought your cock would feel so good, Fuck”

Your babbling praise is reduced to a high pitched whine when he starts slamming into you harder than before. The heavy slaps of his hips into yours replacing your moans in the melody. You barely process his words as the tip of his cock slams into your cervix with no remorse, over and over and over again.

“Did I just hear you say you didn’t think my cock would feel good? Do you want to go back to cumming on your fingers to the thought of me or do you want me to continue stretching your tiny little pussy out?”

Tsukki never minced his words, but the sheer lewdness of them causes heat to rise in your face. “N-no Kei. Please help, shit, me. Wanna cum on your dick so b- so bad.” His answer is to push one of your legs back towards your shoulder, the new position and the curve of his cock has him hitting that spot inside you always struggled to reach.

Every muscle in your body is tensed up, burning from the desire to cum. Shockwaves of pleasure radiating from your pussy reach the tips of your toes and through every hair on your head.

Your walls are clenching around him, wanting him deeper, even though there isn’t really any room left for him. Your body is driven by lust and disregards any pain you should be feeling, rather interpreting it as a different octave of pleasure.

You find your fingers on your chest, groping and tweaking your nipples, knowing that you get even more sensitive when you are ready to orgasm. “Kei, please cum in me, I wanna cum but I wanna, no I need to do it with you,” it sounds more like a moan or a plea than a request, but Tsukki was already struggling to hold back his own orgasm.

He took your lead, moving his mouth down to your chest and rolling your other nipple against his tongue. Simultaneously, he snakes a hand down to your vagina, to the spot you begged him to touch earlier and rubs meticulous circles on your puffy and neglected clit..

Your back arches off the floor at the first touch of your clit, and your cunt clenched around his dick, making it even harder for Tsukki to thrust in and out. Your orgasm is stronger than its ever been, you’re certain you blacked out for a minute, only coming to when you hear a hearty moan from Tsukki and another wave of warmth in your sex, this time coming from him.

His forehead pressed against your chest as he fucks you through both of your orgasms, hand still curling your clit, attempting to extend the euphoria you both feel for as long as he can. Your hands find their way into his hair and you gently tug and scratch his scalp, making him look up at you.

Your face may be covered in tears, and spit but he’s never looked at you with more adoration. You continue to pull him up to your face, placing sweet kisses all over his face as you both ride out the last waves of your high, his dick still inside of you. Wincing as he pulls out to lay down on the floor, he ends up pulling you into an embrace.

You look over to his content face, illuminated by the television, eyes closed with a ghost of a smile dancing over his lips before he murmurs, “I never knew Game of Thrones sex scenes were quite so realistic, but I’m not complaining.”

“God, Tsukki you’re so annoying,” you say trying to shove him off of you with a laugh, but he just holds you tighter.

“I like it better when you call me Kei.”

Tags

@ceo-of-daichi @roandtheroses @sugawara-sweetheart @nonexistent-social-life

#tsukishima #kei tsukishima #tsuki #tsukishima x you #tsukishima x reader #tsukki #tsukki x reader #tsukki x you #tsukki x y/n #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu smut #kristen writes #soft tsukki #h*rny hours

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fortysevenswrites · 2 years

Note

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

Hahahaha well, I did say hit me with the flowers, so here we go:

1. The Camp Culebra/Kathryn Is Dealing With A Lot Of Feelings About Summer 2021 AU

First of all, from her email signature and her tone in her emails, he thought she’d be older, somewhere around middle age, like their mother.

2. The Magic AU

“You know, when I asked you to stay, I didn’t mean the couch.”

3. The TouchTones AU

“Facts are facts, brother,” Richie says, smug—he thinks that just because he took a few business classes and read a ton of books on restauranteering after the world almost ended, he knows all—like it’s Seth’s fault that he decided to take the reins on the less-than-legal side of their operation instead of running the bar. “We’re empowering our patrons to make the ambiance of the bar to their liking. This is a good thing.”

4. The La Llorona AU

“Like hell are we going to let you do that, Kate. We’ll find another way to stop him.”

5. The Sequel To 'are you ready for it?'

“Fuck you too, Zolo!” Seth says to his back, and receives a jaunty middle finger in return.

6. The Take Your Fandom To Work Day AU

Considering the fact that it’s 6:37 in the morning, it probably means that something in the athletic department caught fire—figuratively, but also possibly literally—because that’s the only thing that could possibly happen this early in the day.

7. The Punisher/FDTD Crossover Number 2

Kate met Matt’s girlfriend, Elektra Natchios, a few weeks back, when they were closing up the office for the night. She’s tall and terrifying and reminds her way too much of Santanico Pandemonium for her to ever truly feel comfortable around her.

8. House Hunters: Culebra Properties Edition

“For the record, I do not want to be having this conversation with you. Like, I really do not want to.”

9. The Valentine's Day Fic I Started Writing...Last Year

So now, Kate’s ten minutes into, I just need her help checking on the new inventory downstairs. It’ll be twenty minutes, tops!—yeah, and it’s Valentine’s Day, so there’s no way in hell they’re not having a quickie in one of the maintenance closets—when a woman pulls her pickup truck into the parking lot.

10. The Kate Love Seth's Reading Voice Fic

He’s lying at the foot of the bed with his feet planted on the floor, his arms propped behind his head as he watches the black and white movie droning on quietly on TV, the hem of his henley pulled from his waistband, revealing the tops of his Calvin Kleins, and—

Fuck, this morning’s shopping trip just isn’t going to happen.

11. The Detroit 187 Fusion/AU

“Detective Gecko, I may trust you to protect the citizens of the metro-Houston area, solve crimes and put away bad guys, but there’s no way I trust you with my master’s thesis unsupervised,” she drops the folder back on his desk. “Just fill out the dang survey.”

12. The FDTD/Punisher Crossover Number 1

Scrubbing both hands through her hair, Karen looks from Frank to Matt and back, “It’s uh, kind of a long story. And uh, I’m pretty sure you’re not going to like it. Either of you.”

#asked and answered

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127-mile · 3 years

Text

HE WAS A SKATER BOY. she said see you later boy.

PAIRING: Skater Sicheng x female reader | Skater Shotaro x female reader.

GENRE: Skateboard, best friends | Fluff, angst.

WARNINGS: Mention of past injuries, strong language, accident, blood, violence, hospital, Jaehyun is a massive asshole, Yuta saves the day.

PLOT: You didn't think that by accompanying your best friend on his first day of work at the local skateboard store you would end up watching skaters fight during an illegal race.

WORD COUNT: +4.1k.

A/N: This is part of the sports collab hosted by @lucas-wongs | this is also inspired by sk8 the infinity that you do not need to know to read.

"Can you come with me?"

You frown when you hear Shotaro's voice, and when you turn your head, you find him in the doorframe, his arms crossed against his chest. Shotaro doesn't live here, and last you heard he didn't have a spare key to enter your apartment.

"I want to ask you how you got in, but I'm not sure I want to hear your answer," you mumble as you get up from your desk chair, stretching your arms above your head. "and why do you want me to come? It's your first day on the job, you don't need a chaperone."

He pouts, letting his arms fall to his sides. "I am stressed, this is my first job!" he says, like it's obvious, and you roll your eyes. "Please?"

"If I come, you better pay for the pizza for the next movie night, okay?" he nods, suddenly regaining his smile, and you grab your jacket. "If your boss, or your coworkers laugh at you because you needed me, I don't want to hear you complain."

"Do you think they're going to laugh at me?" he asks in a small voice, and you heave a sigh, you should have turned your tongue seven times in your mouth before speaking.

"If they laugh at you, it'll be my job, as your best friend, to beat them up, okay?" he laughs softly, and you push him out of the doorframe to exit your room. "Okay, I really need to know, how did you get into the apartment?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "You didn't close the balcony door, so I walked in through there." you found another reason to look for a new apartment.

"Come on, let's go or you'll be late." you put on your shoes, and you leave the apartment after taking the time to close the balcony door, you don't want a stranger to suddenly want to visit your apartment after seeing Shotaro do it.

Shotaro retrieves his skateboard outside the apartment complex, and also his backpack that he left in plain sight. "You have to stop trusting everyone, Shotaro, someday someone is going to steal your things."

"You live in the most peaceful and secure part of town, I have nothing to fear." that's what he believes.

The shop where Shotaro was hired is only ten minutes from your apartment, and when you approach it, you stop walking, thrusting your hands into the pockets of your jacket. "Can you go on your own, or do I have to go inside with you?"

He lowers his head, and he plays with the hem of his sweatshirt. "Can you come in with me, and pretend you want to buy something, so I don't look silly?"

If you knew this is the way your day would be, you wouldn't have asked your boss to give you a day off. Having to deal with unpleasant customers is certainly better than having to pretend to buy something from a store where nothing interests you.

"It's going to cost you a lot Shotaro, and it's only for today, okay?" he nods, and he walks over to the bay window.

"You don't have to be afraid, there is no one in the shop." it's true, on the other side of the glass, you can't see anyone. Which is no wonder, even though the store opened over six years ago, the customers aren't regular, so you wonder how it stays open.

You push open the door, and a doorbell rings, and your gaze lands on the counter almost immediately. "Hello?" a young man has his arms resting on the counter, and his face nestled in between. His breathing is slow and regular. He is sleeping.

Shotaro closes the door behind him, and walks over to the counter. "Excuse me?" he asks in a small voice, and when the man doesn't react, he gently pushes his shoulder. "Excuse me? I'm Shotaro, I'm the new employee."

"What is happening?" the young man asks in a hoarse voice full of sleep, raising his head. He rubs his eyes, yawning at length. "Can I help you?"

Shotaro is moving from leg to leg, clearly nervous. "I am Shotaro, I just got hired."

The young man gets up from his stool which scrapes against the tiles, and he shakes Shotaro's hand. "Oh yeah, the boss told me he found someone else. But from what you can see, we don't really have any clients today, so I don't know what I'm going to do with you."

Shotaro takes a deep breath, and he straightens up a bit. He wants to be confident in front of his colleague. "I can do the cleaning, whatever you don't want to do, I love skateboarding, so being here is enough, even if I'm not doing anything." he basically says he doesn't mind being paid for doing nothing. Understandable.

From where you stand, a little back, you can see the shadow of a smile on the young man's face. "Do you skate?" Shotaro nods. "I was afraid the boss hired someone who didn't know anything about skateboards, so welcome, I'm Sicheng!"

"Pleased to meet you." Shotaro says, and Sicheng finally seems to notice your presence, since you meet his gaze.

"Do you need anything?"

You open your mouth, but no sound comes out, luckily, Shotaro comes to your aid. "I was a little afraid to come, so I asked her to come with me." Sicheng hums, but he doesn't comment.

"You want to stay?" he asks you, and you shrug your shoulders.

"Yeah."

And that's how you started to spend your days off, and your weekends in the skateboard shop.

When you see Shotaro talking with clients, advise them about a skateboard, you tell yourself that he was born to do that, he is a natural. You can't remember the last time you saw him smile so much, and you wonder if his jaw hurts at the end of the day. You like to see your best friend like this.

As for Sicheng, he is interesting.

There are days when he barely speaks, when he answers your questions with grunts that make you laugh, and there are days when it's impossible to silence him. He's nice, he's caring with Shotaro, he always makes sure he feels good and comfortable with a client. And he doesn't hesitate to kick some of them out for asking silly questions.

You still don't know much about skateboarding, but you could spend hours watching Sicheng build a skateboard from start to finish.

A bit like today.

You are sitting on a wooden table where skateboard wheels are strewn about, sketches of boards are balled up on the floor, and on the shelves, and Sicheng is leaning over a workbench, figuring out why the board's wheels stop rolling.

"The wheels are round, they shouldn't stop rolling, don't you think so?" you ask by grabbing one of the sketches that you smooth out. It's an extravagant model, and you remember the client who asked for it. Red hair, red nail polish, the tattoo of a rose, and a bright smile.

"Do you think I don't know?" he mumbles, and you laugh softly, it's so easy to annoy him when he is working. Maybe that's the only reason you don't get bored to death when you're locked in the back room with him.

And to be honest, he is not ugly to look at.

"Maybe there's gravel stuck in the bearings?"

Sicheng sits up, and he turns to you with a frown. "How do you know about the bearings?"

You stick your tongue out. "I listen to you when you speak, Sicheng."

He smiles softly, and goes back to his work. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him picking up some sort of toothbrush to clean between the bearings, and as you predicted, some gravel falls on the workbench. "See? I should be paid for this."

"We have five clients a month, do you really think I can give you money for a simple advice?" he asks with a sigh, and you shrug your shoulders.

"The shop is still open, so your boss has enough money for that, and to pay you and Shotaro."

"I can pay you in gratitude, if you want." you chuckle, it is not with gratitude that you are going to pay your rent, but you accept. Next time you won't give him advice.

"I wanted to ask you, are you and Shotaro free tonight?" he asks, sitting down on the workbench before taking the board on his lap to spin the wheels.

"I am free, and as far as Shotaro is concerned, I have no idea." you answer by tilting your head. "Why?"

"You don't live together?" he narrows his eyes.

"No? Why would I be living with him?"

Sicheng is biting his lower lip, but rather than answering your current question, he prefers to answer your previous one. "I'm participating in a race tonight, and I trust you enough to get you there now."

"What does trust have to do with a race?" you ask. "Is this an illegal race?"

Sicheng is watching you like it's the most obvious thing. "Duh! Have you ever heard of skateboard races?" you shake your head. "They're organized by a rich man who we don't know anything about except his nickname. There's nothing to win, but it's fun to go there. You can meet some pretty cool people."

"I'll come, if I don't risk ending up in jail." Sicheng laughs, swinging his head back, but he bumps into the wall, which makes you laugh heartily. "How do you stand on a skateboard if you bump into a wall so easily?"

This time it's his turn to stick your tongue out. "I'll ask Shotaro."

You get off the table, and you go back to the shop where Shotaro is. He's sitting on the counter, watching a documentary about Tony Hawk on the television. "I see you are working very hard, it's nice to see."

He jumps, but he smiles when his gaze meets yours. "There's nothing to do, and Sicheng doesn't like me to be in the back of the store when he's working." and he is right, because Shotaro asks so many questions that Sicheng has trouble concentrating. The last time he cut his palm deep enough that you had to drive him to the emergency room for stitches.

"Sicheng asked if we would like to accompany him to a race tonight." you say, and Shotaro pauses the documentary.

"A skate race?" you nod your head. "Oh my god yes!"

You roll your eyes, Shotaro is adorable when he's excited, because he almost vibrates. "It's illegal, so we risk ending up in jail, don't smile too much."

"Watching an illegal race, and ending up in jail? That would take two things off my list of things to do before I die."

"See, the kid knows how to live!" you hear the back door shut behind Sicheng, and he rests his chin on your shoulder. "You'll see, we'll have fun!"

The way to the start line of the race is an adventure in itself. The car cannot drive on the steep road, and anyway, it is too crowded for you to be able to drive without taking the risk of running over someone.

"Do you do this regularly?" you ask, taking a deep breath, to avoid showing Sicheng that you are out of breath and that you regret having accepted his invitation.

Shotaro on the other hand looks like a child in a Christmas village. He looks at everything with wide, interested eyes, and a blinding smile. If you could, you would pinch his cheeks.

"Every weekend, sometimes twice a week, it depends on the organizer." he responds by shrugging his shoulders, tightening his fingers on the edge of his skateboard so that his knuckles turn white.

"And have you ever met him? The organizer?" Sicheng shakes his head.

"Never, he comes very rarely, but he has set up cameras everywhere so he can watch the skateboarders." you don't know if it's smart, or creepy.

When you get to the end of the trail, you fold your arms across your chest looking around. There are a lot of people, like a lot. You see hair of all colors, people of all ages, and it's nice.

"Sicheng!" the young man turns and his smile disappears when his gaze falls on a skateboarder. "I didn't think you would come, I heard you were way too busy taking care of an empty store."

Sicheng sighs. "Jaehyun, what are you doing here? I thought you couldn't skate anymore." Jaehyun's gaze falls on you, then on Shotaro before sliding down on the board he has just placed on the ground.

"Oh, did you bring some friends? That's good. Do you skate?" he asks Shotaro who nods vigorously. "Do you want to participate in the race?"

Sicheng opens his mouth to say something, but Shotaro is faster than him to answer. "I don't know, can I?" Jaehyun nods, smirking. "Oh my god, yes!"

"You're new here, so I'll race you, don't worry, I'm nice on the track." he winks at you, and turns on his heel before disappearing into the crowd.

You turn to Shotaro. "Are you crazy? You've never skated on this kind of road, you're going to get hurt!"

It is Sicheng's turn to speak. "You can't race him, he's a savage, he's going to send you into the background from the start to make sure he'll win!"

Shotaro shrugs his shoulders. "It's a good opportunity to try it out on the road, isn't it? And why would he do that, he's going to be in trouble if he hurts me on purpose."

Sicheng sighs. "You don't understand Shotaro. If he hurts you on purpose there won't be any consequences for him. It's an illegal race, so if something happens, if you need to be sent to the hospital , you will be the one in trouble, they won't give a shit if you mention Jaehyun."

"Oh." you put your arm on Shotaro's shoulder, who looks up at you.

"It's okay, Shotaro, you can train on a normal road, Sicheng must have places he likes to go, right?" Sicheng nods.

"I'm going to go for a walk, see if I don't see someone from the skate park." Shotaro whispers, and it's his turn to disappear into the crowd. Maybe you should hold him back, but you don't want to force him to stay if he's angry.

"Who is this Jaehyun?" you ask Sicheng who is approaching you so that he can speak without having to yell above the hubub.

"Jaehyun started skateboarding when he was very young, we actually met like that. It's just that he takes racing way too seriously, and he won't hesitate to push someone from the side of the road if that can allow him a victory. He is not afraid of anything, except defeat. He had an accident a few months ago, and we all thought it was the end of his career, but from what I just saw, it wasn't true."

It's not reassuring, you think, biting the inside of your cheek. "Have you ever raced against him?"

Sicheng laughs coldly. "Yeah. All I remember from the race is waking up in a hospital bed with my elbow and collarbone broken."

You understand why he told Shotaro not to race against him, and you are grateful to him for that.

"Come on, I'll show you around."

To avoid getting lost in the crowd, Sicheng takes your hand in his, and he intertwines your fingers. His hand is warm, and it's pretty nice.

He shows you the places where he fell, where he split his cheek, where he broke his wrist and the fingers of his left hand, and each time you can't help but laugh at the dramatic way he tells his stories. "You'll end up falling apart if you keep racing."

"I know it, my friends all tell me, but it's all I've got. It's the only thing I know how to do, where I'm good at." it’s something you don’t believe. You spent enough time with him to know that he is an artist, and that he wielded the tools like no one else. He has so much more than just his skateboard.

"You're wrong, you're-" you're cut off when a crackling sounds through the speakers is heard, and you turn your head towards Sicheng.

“We have the first participants in tonight's race! Jaehyun, a regular we never thought would ever come back, and a new kid, Shotaro!”

"Shit!" Sicheng exclaims, and he starts to run. At first you are frozen in place, but suddenly fingers are circling your wrist and you are pulled by Sicheng. "Come on, we have to stop him!"

Unfortunately with the people it's hard to navigate through the crowds, and before you even get to the starting track, a whistle blows, and the two boys set off.

"Stop the race!" Sicheng says to the young woman holding the whistle, and she shakes her head.

"No can do, sorry."

Your heart is beating so hard in your chest, that you wonder if it will fall at your feet, and Sicheng is not better. He is unable to stand still as he looks at one of the many screens that show the different places Shotaro will skate by.

You dig your fingernails into the palms of your hands without even realizing it, it's only when Sicheng gasps that you lower your gaze. You broke the skin, and blood is covering the tips of your fingernails. "It's going to be fine, calm down." he says, holding one of your hands.

"What is he doing?" someone exclaims with a mixture of surprise and indignation.

You look at the screen, and your eyes widen. Jaehyun and Shotaro are side by side, and Jaehyun is trying to knock him off his skateboard. "We have to do something."

When you don't get a response, you turn around, and you notice that Sicheng has disappeared. You stand on your tiptoes, and you see him running on the track before hopping on his skateboard.

Suddenly, what you feared is happening.

Shotaro loses his balance, and he falls off his skateboard. A fall is nothing, he could get away with a few bruises, but unfortunately at full speed it's a different story.

Shotaro tries to catch himself, but the way his wrist twists makes you nauseous. His wrist should not be bent like this. His head bangs against the asphalt, and your mouth opens with a silent scream. You have to help him, but for that you need your legs to obey you.

You shake your head, and when you regain the mobility of your legs, you start to run. You don't know if Sicheng saw the accident, all you know is you have to find Shotaro, and get him to the hospital as soon as possible.

When you get to Shotaro, he's still on the ground, unconscious. Sicheng and Jaehyun are a meter or two away.

"You bastard!" Sicheng says, and Jaehyun does nothing but laugh. He must have tripped, because his skateboard is nowhere to be seen.

"This is how it works, Sicheng!" Jaehyun responds with a smirk. "And why are you reacting like that anyway, you did it too, a few times if I remember correctly."

"Not at full speed, and in a bend! It's way too dangerous! You could have killed him!" Sicheng walks up to Jaehyun, and you don't need to see his face to know that he looks threatening, and that he's ready to hit Jaehyun, to make him pay for hurting Shotaro.

If he does, he will be in trouble, and you don't want that.

"Sicheng, we have to take him to the hospital!" Sicheng seems to notice your presence, as he turns his back on Jaehyun. A very bad idea, if you ask me, since Jaehyun grabs Sicheng's skateboard, and lifts it up high, probably about to knock it down on the back of Sicheng's head.

"Behind you!" you scream, and Sicheng falls to his knees, in time to dodge the blow that would certainly have caused massive damage.

"You're going to pay for this Jaehyun, and I promise you'll never get on a skateboard again!" Sicheng growls, and he joins you on all fours to avoid getting hit once more. He knows Jaehyun, he knows he'll try to knock him out at the first opportunity.

"He's bleeding Sicheng, and the car is so far away." you whisper when he's close enough to hear you, your hand resting on Shotaro's cheek. Blood is flowing from his wound to the head, and a tear rolls down your cheek.

"We can't call the ambulances, because everyone will be arrested, including us." then this is not an option. You have to find something else.

"My car is parked right there, I can go get it for you if you want. I'm also going to ask people to open the gates down the track so you don't have to endure the crowds."

You turn your head to the red haired boy who asked Sicheng for the weird skateboard the week before the race. "Please, that would help us tremendously!" you answer, and he disappears.

As promised, he comes back quickly, and he stops the car in front of you. "I'll help you put him in the car." he tells Sicheng who needs a minute to react, but when he does, he puts Shotaro in the backseat, and he sits with him, his head on his knees.

"We'll owe you one." you say, getting behind the wheel.

You drive off the racetrack without a hitch, and after that, it's just a matter of luck. All the lights are green, and there is no one on the road. Perfect.

You stop the car in front of the main door of the hospital, and you go out in a hurry. "I need help!" you say, and two nurses follow you outside. "He fell off his skateboard, hit his head and hasn't regained consciousness since. It's been 15 minutes."

Then it's a total blur.

Shotaro was taken away by several nurses, and you were forbidden to follow them.

It's been over two hours, and you're still sitting in the waiting room, your head resting on Sicheng's shoulder.

"I'm so sorry." he says in a whisper, and you look up at him. "I shouldn't have invited you. I should have known that Jaehyun would be there, and that he would seek to harm me without attacking me directly."

You shrug your shoulders. "You couldn't have known, especially after his accident. You just wanted to please Shotaro by inviting him."

Silence falls, and when the door opens on one of the nurses who took care of Shotaro, you get up from your chair, immediately imitated by Sicheng. "How is he?"

"He is fine." she says with a comforting smile. "The blow to the head was strong, but for some incredible reason he doesn't have a concussion. His wrist is broken, and he's going to have a few bruises. He is going to be just fine, and should be able to leave the hospital tomorrow after one last check up."

A weight slips off your shoulders, and before you know what's going on, Sicheng hugs you for a long, and strong embrace that you didn't know you needed. "Oh thank god."

Shotaro won't be in a race anytime soon, but he'll be getting back on his skateboard before his wrist is even healed.

#nct #wayv #nct imagines #wayv imagines #winwin imagines #winwin scenarios #shotaro imagines #shotaro scenarios

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timelordthirteen · 3 years

Text

Desperate Souls 6/?

Mr. Gold/BelleFrench, Explicit

Summary: A broke and heartbroken Belle French comes to an agreement with Mr. Gold to do a little modeling, just for him, in exchange for the money she desperately needs, but it isn’t long before they both realize they’ve made a deal they didn’t understand. Based on this prompt.

Chapter Summary: Another evening, another dinner, but this time Belle surprises Gold and herself.

Notes: IT HAS BEEN 84 YEARS. I am so sorry. Basically March and April were catastrophes, mostly of a work variety. A lot of things happened, I got super burned out, and I thought a lot about quitting my job. BUT... things are looking up significantly, and the muse is back. This is what Belle is wearing. ;)

[AO3]

Thursday evening, Belle arrived at ten minutes to six.

Gold seemed surprised when he opened the door, and she wondered if the events of the previous day, including their little tiff in his shop, had made him think she wasn’t coming for dinner. He was wearing a deep purple shirt, striped with a darker shade, and a plain tie in yet another purple tone. The look was topped off with a set of gold sleeve garters just above his elbows.

He’d held the door, taken her coat with little more than the usual Miss French, and guided her into the dining room, where he presented her with a plate of lamb chops and sizzled garlic, dressed with a mint and rosemary, chimichurri style sauce. To the side was a mix of roasted carrots and parsnips, sliced and blistered under the broiler, and tossed in the drippings from the lamb. It smelled amazing, and though she had initially thought the mint sauce would be too bold and overpowering, it melded perfectly with the earthy flavor of the lamb and vegetables. It was as if Gold was overtly trying to impress her with his prowess in the kitchen.

“Do you - like lamb?”

Belle looked up from her plate and blinked at him. “Um, yeah, yeah it’s good. The sauce especially.”

He nodded and stabbed his fork into the center of a carrot. “Good.”

She picked up her wine and took a long swallow as he focused back on his food. Perhaps she had made a mistake in coming over early and assuming that what had happened yesterday wasn’t going to affect anything. The silence lingered, broken awkwardly by the occasional scrape of silverware, and despite the food being delicious, she had barely eaten anything. Her stomach felt even more hollow than the first time she’d come over, and all she wanted was for the whole thing to be over so she could go home and ruminate on the mess her father was in.

She hadn’t quite sorted out what the hell to do about that situation, and though she didn’t know for sure where the money had gone, she worried that Moe had slipped back into the old, bad habits he had developed in the years after her mother died. They had been part of the reason for their move from California all the way to Maine. She’d promised herself that she wouldn’t be pulled into that again, that she wouldn’t let his vices upend her life.

The abrupt sound of a fork clattering against a plate shook her from her rumination. She looked up to find Gold staring across the table at her, his silverware resting against the china, and his hands folded and held up in front of him.

“I’m sorry,” he said simply.

Belle’s head tilted slightly, and he sighed.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t let you know about the - situation - with your father.”

She shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. I put the blame on you instead of where it should be, which is squarely on my father. The terms of his loan are between you and him, and probably confidential anyway.”

Gold lowered his hands and shifted in his seat. “Yes, but I still could have said something, perhaps hinted, or suggested that you speak to him about the loan for the flowers. Instead -”

It was her turn to sigh. “No, it’s fine, really I -” He held up a hand, and she stopped, her fingers twisting her napkin against her thigh.

“Let me finish,” he said softly. “My business with Moe, and my arrangement with you, are completely separate things as far as I’m concerned. One does not have any bearing on the other. I understand that isn’t the case for you, and that your father’s financial situation has possibly made yours worse.”

“Yeah...” She looked away, turning her gaze towards the living room doorway which had a view through to the front window. The porch lights illuminated the light snow that had started falling shortly after she arrived.

“As for your father not being truthful with you...” He trailed off and exhaled heavily.

She let out a humorless, scoffing laugh and glanced at Gold’s face before turning her gaze to her barely eaten meal. “It’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last, sadly.”

He gave her a look that was as much a smile as it was a grimace. “It’s deplorable, and I’m sorry for that as well.”

Belle shook her head again. “It’s not your fault, but thank you. I should probably apologize as well.”

“What for?” He frowned and reached for his wine glass.

“For marching into your shop and yelling at you.”

He waved a hand and gave her a half smile before he sipped at his drink. “Consider it forgotten.”

She relaxed at his words, and the awkward tension that had been present since he had first opened the door faded as they went back to their meal and companionable small talk. She hadn’t expected him to apologize. He was known to do so rarely even when there might be blame to lay at his door, but in this case there was none at all, and yet he had seemed compelled to clear the air. To her surprise, he appeared genuinely contrite, and his concern for her situation with her father felt quite sincere.

Gold frowned over his glass as he watched Belle make a little grouping of carrots at one side of her plate. He was glad that they had resolved things between them, but not knowing what Moe French was doing with the money he’d borrowed was concerning. He presumed Belle still didn’t know either, or if she did that it was bad enough she would never say so. At this point, Gold would consider it a miracle if Moe managed to pay him back by the deadline he’d set. Given her current financial situation, helping to pay her father’s debt as well would only make things worse for the both of them.

He was mulling over how to handle that particular situation, when he noticed Belle was watching him. “Finished?”

She smiled and glanced down at her empty plate. “Yes, and it was amazing and delicious, as usual.”

He chuckled, secretly pleased by not only her praise, but also by her choice of words. As usual. There was something shared and familiar in that which he liked far more than he should.

Abruptly, Gold pushed back from the table, and Belle watched as he stood and began to clear the dishes. When he reached across for hers as well, she tried to catch his gaze, but he seemed to be focused on his task.

She stood as well, and eased her way towards the doorway to the living room, intending to take the long way around to the foyer and the small half bath where embarrassment inevitably awaited her. “I’ll um, just go and - and change.”

At that he paused, plates stacked, silverware crossed over the top. His shoulders moved slightly as he let out a breath, and then gave her a brief nod. It was the first time she’d actually said it out loud. Before it had always been the unspoken next step; he cleaned up from dinner, and she went to put on something scandalous. It was the thing they both knew was coming, yet seemed content to leave in a state of plausible deniability.

The closed door of the powder room loomed, and the flutters in her stomach increased with every step, until she almost stumbled through it. A faint gasp slipped out when she flipped the lights on and saw what Gold had left out for her to wear. She pushed the door closed with her weight as she leaned back against it, her eyes trailing over the sheer lace.

This piece happened to be one of her favorites; a lacy, flirty babydoll nightie in a deep purple with a matching panty. Belle took a breath and licked her lips, steeling her nerves as she shrugged off her cardigan and unbuttoned her blouse. A few minutes later, she was tugging the flimsiest pair of purple underwear up her legs, adjusting the thin elastic over her hips before regarding herself in the mirror.

The front of the garment was low, covering the majority of her breasts with a soft lace pattern, but leaving ample cleavage exposed all the way down to the ribbon where the seams met. There was no underwire, but the elastic that went around her chest combined with the cut of the fabric had a slight lifting effect, which in another circumstance might have pleased her, but in this felt like she was offering herself for something. The fabric was even more see-through now that she had it on, and she was thankful that the lighting in the study was soft and dark.

The lower half of the nightie overlapped in the front, and fell in soft pleats above a wide strip of lace near the bottom. The overall effect made it slightly less sheer, but still transparent enough to reveal where the panties did and didn’t cover her. She turned around and looked over her shoulder to see that the hem ended just passed her backside, and swallowed hard.

Facing the mirror again, she braced on the wall and wiggled her feet back into her strappy black heels. She had decided when she was changing clothes after work that she was tired of walking around in bare feet in Gold’s house, and black heels went with nearly everything.

As she was about to exit the powder room, a thought occurred to her. It seemed almost certain now that Gold was working his way towards more and more revealing items, pushing her limits one week at a time. Perhaps she could push back.

Belle smiled to herself as her eyes perused the floor to ceiling bookshelves. Towards the top she could see wide, hefty tomes that reminded her of the encyclopedias she’d grown up with in school, before the days of Wikipedia and Google. Down at a more reachable level, there was a row of well worn volumes, and she touched the spines as her gaze took them in. He had several limited and first editions the likes of which she’d only had access to because she’d worked in libraries, yet here they were one shelf above more contemporary titles. He seemed to have everything from murder mysteries to classic poetry, and her smile grew as her fingers brushed over every published Bronte sister.

Shifting to her right, she came to stand next to the case with the kintsugi tea set, and a strange, warm feeling washed over her as she gave it a fond glance. Above the case however, was something quite unexpected. She’d initially thought it was an art piece, but now that she was truly looking and taking it in, it appeared to be a page from a manuscript in a gothic style lettering. Her eyes scanned the words, going wide as she realized what she was looking at. The title, the bold capital letter surrounded by scripted decoration, the odd, 17th century English spellings...

“I was wondering how long it would take you to notice it.”

Gold’s voice startled her, and she gaped at him for a long moment before her eyes drifted back to the framed page. “Is that from -?”

“From a 1611 King James version of the Bible?” he finished for her, sauntering into the room with a bemused smirk.

Belle blinked. “Yes?”

He flashed his teeth and came to stand beside her, his cane planted in front of him and his hands folded calmly over the handle. “Yes.”

His voice was soft and almost reverent as he looked up, and she gave him a brief glance before skimming the words on the page, her mind automatically adjusting to the strange letters as she read.

“The Apocrypha?” she asked.

Gold smiled crookedly. “Yes, again. I’m surprised you recognized it, considering it’s not the the title page.”

She shrugged, and looked at him, her lips curving. “I have an affinity for the texts that were removed from the Bible. And other religious books too. I always wanted to know what the powers that be didn’t want people to know.”

Her gaze moved back to the page, while his stayed fixed on her, watching the quirk of her lips as she read the words again.

“You were the kid that read all the banned books, weren’t you,” he said, finally.

Belle bit her lip and grinned at him. “I considered it a matter of pride to read all of them as soon as I learned there was such a thing. It’s why I became a librarian. I wanted to make sure that people could always find them if they wanted to.” She looked up, nodded her head towards the Bible page. “There’s always a reason a book ends up on that list, something that makes the man say you shouldn’t read it, and most of the time it’s precisely the reason you should.”

After a pause, she met his eyes and shrugged. “You disagree?”

He shook his head slowly, somehow managing a reply through the dazed fog in his head. “No, no. Quite the opposite.”

He had meant to tease her, and to distract himself from looking too long at what she was wearing, but her response was so earnest, and so well matched to his own thoughts on the matter, that he could do nothing except hold her in even more esteem than he already did. It was another sign that his plan was failing miserably, and yet he refused to be the one to end their deal. He was certain that there would come a point where her sensibilities would get the better of her, pushing her to refuse the silent request hanging in the powder room, and that, combined with whatever disaster was brewing with her father, would be the end of it. He need only be patient.

She looked away and shifted from one foot to the other, temporarily relieving the pressure on her toes. Her shoes were starting to pinch, but the strange, post-dinner conversations she kept having with Gold gave an air of comfortable intimacy to the moment that she didn’t want to dispel. He seemed as surprised by her answers as she was by all the books and objects he’d collected. The pawn shop had always been an eclectic mix of things, which she’d attributed to the nature of the business, but she now suspected it was entirely due to the eclectic inclinations of its owner. Inclinations which only made her want to know more about each one of his possessions, and Gold too, if she was honest.

Abruptly, Belle turned, blowing out a quiet breath as she crossed to the bar next to the fireplace. Behind her, she heard the thump of Gold’s cane, and looked back at him with as much of a smile as she could manage through her nerves.

“Why don’t you sit down,” she said, “and I’ll get your drink.”

Gold blinked at her, his head tilting slightly, before he nodded, and by the time she was done filling the glass with scotch, he was seated in his usual place. She took her time replacing the bottle on the shelf, and then pivoted slowly on her heel, smirking inwardly as she walked towards him.

He was noticeably off kilter, if his wide eyes and white knuckle grip on the arm of the chair was anything to go by, and she decided at the last second to push the envelope. She came close to the right arm of the chair, a hair’s breadth from his hand, and leaned forward ever so slightly to set the glass down on the side table. It was an unnecessary motion that served only to give him a full look at her breasts, but the way his lips parted, and the faint intake of air, sent a tingle down her spine. She returned to her usual spot by the end of the ottoman, and turned around all the way, once, before facing him again and letting him look.

Gold had no idea what was happening. His head felt almost dizzy, and he was vaguely aware that he’d lost control of the evening. She had been so close only a moment ago, her bare thigh a whisper from his fingers, her chest filling his vision for too brief a time. The glow of the fire had illuminated her as she turned and moved to stand by the ottoman, her silhouette leaving nothing to the imagination through the sheer fabric.

She stood still as he openly looked her up and down, and then, without a word or gesture from him, she turned slowly for a second time. He could feel his body react as the hem danced against her backside, and he reached for the glass of scotch, taking a quick sip to calm himself.

Belle found herself oddly amused as she watched Gold take a second gulp of his drink. She’d wrested back a little bit of control, and it had clearly surprised him even more than she’d intended. After a few seconds, he sent the glass aside, and she felt the weight of his gaze settle on her once more. It wasn't lecherous or discomfiting, as she thought it might feel were it anyone else. Instead it made her feel - warm.

“Thank you, Miss French.”

She gave him a small smile, and left to change, but something was different, she was different. She had put Mr. Gold on his back foot, something which few, if any, in Storybrooke could claim. The bathroom door closed, and she kicked off her heels, giving her feet some much needed relief on her way to leaning over the sink. She let out a slow breath and looked up, meeting her own gaze in the mirror and shaking her head.

The way he had looked at her, both when she was going on about banned books, and when she was modeling for him, gave her an unexpected rush. It was - intoxicating - and she was surprised to discover that she liked it. There was something powerful about what she’d done, owning the moment, and leaving no room for the usual embarrassment or awkwardness. A smile crept over her face as she remembered leaning towards him and the sensation that had come over her.

She shivered and rubbed her arms as she straightened, then set about changing back into her clothes. The babydoll was left on the same hanger on which she’d found it, panties included, which felt just a little bit dirty and wrong. Before she stepped back into the hallway, she looked back at it, wondering if she should take it with her or not. So far she’d chosen to leave each item behind, not wanting to take home something that had made her feel so uncomfortable to wear. She didn’t dwell on what he might do with them afterwards, but this piece, and this night were so different that she was almost sad to be leaving it.

Gold was waiting for her by the front door, holding a plastic container. She frowned and then realized it was leftovers from dinner.

“You didn’t need to,” she said, but he only shrugged in response as he handed it over.

The prospect of a second helping of a delicious meal made her smile, but it faded quickly when the yellow envelope came into view. He held that out for her as well, a simple, nondescript thing, but bulging a bit to one side where the money was tucked. It had dulled her good mood with the reminder of what their deal was all about. Still, she managed to thank him, awkwardly, and he bid her good night.

He waited by the door until she was out of sight, swallowed up by the late winter shadows, and then made his way to the powder room. Sighing, he reached for the hanger, and the lingerie that she had once again discarded. It wasn’t part of the deal in any way, but his assumption that she would want the items back, was obviously wrong. She probably saw them as even more tainted than when the fiancé she'd bought them for left her flat broke.

Upstairs, Gold made his way down the long hall to his bedroom, feeling the telltale ache in his bad leg from too many hours on his feet. Moving around the kitchen to make a rather complex dinner had been the last thing he’d needed to do after standing most of the day at the shop, rearranging a couple of the display cases, but it was worth it. Belle had enjoyed the meal, and they had cleared the air between them, at least somewhat.

He stepped into the walk-in closet, passing the neat row of suit jackets and trousers, and the angled shelves of polished dress shoes, to a short hanging area at the back wall. The hook of the hanger made a light clank as it went over the bar, and he sighed. The purple nightie swayed for a few seconds before the fabric stilled, hanging next to the two other items abandoned by Miss French.

Hesitantly, he reached out and touched the black chemise from her first visit, drawing the silk between his fingertips. Swallowing hard, his hand brushed the softness of the pink nightie, up and down with the back of his hand from hem to the edge of the lacy cups and back again. There was another pause before he slipped his hand under the sheer purple fabric from this evening, seeing for himself how transparent it truly was, and recalling once more the shape of her in the firelight. It was still slightly warm, and he sucked in a breath, catching a hint of her lingering scent.

His eyes closed as he inhaled again, and though there was no need for a cold shower tonight, he had begun to consider the fact that he may have made a deal he didn’t understand.

#rumbelle #rumbelle fic #belle x mr. gold #lemon fic #(eventually)#my rumbelle fic #fic #desperate souls

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