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oh-holy-slut · 3 years

Text

Bloodlust

Pairing: Damon Salvatore x fem!reader

Warnings: smut, explicit language, blood sharing, mentions of death, oral sex

Word Count: 2,6k

Summary: Stefan forced Damon to try his animal diet. Damon hated it, but didn't had a choice... until Reader makes a suggestion. Suddenly things get steamy.

Being with Damon was complicated. Him and Y/N have seen each other a lot in the past weeks. The two of them had a lot of fun; saw a lot of movies. Actually, Y/N was sure Damon secretly hated many of those. However, anytime Y/N suggested another dramatic, romantic cliché movie like "Last Song" - the vampire groaned, put his arm around her shoulder, let her head rest on his chest and endured every single second of the movie of her choice.

Damon even flirted and teased Y/N here and there, but didn't lead to anything more intimate so far.

Today was another of those days. Y/N stuck around at the Salvatore boarding house, brought a few of Damon's favorite groceries and a bunch of movies, of which she thought that they will suit his taste. Even if they were a little to bloody and brutal in her opinion.

"Pick one!", she demanded, holding all three Blu-ray sleeves in front of him. Damon just shrugged, not bothering to even look.

"Don't be a killjoy, Damon Salvatore!" Y/N sighed.

"Tell me what's wrong or pick a movie. You've got no choice. And besides that... Which number of drink is this?" Y/N frowned, pointing at the liquor in her friends hand. Damon usually consumed his beloved bourbon with pleasure.

But the man on the couch didn't seem pleasured at all. His facial features totally hardened and a look in his eyes like he was ready to rip someone's heart out.

You put the disc's back in your handbag, closing the zipper and put the bag on the floor.

"Fine. No movie night today. Who are we going to kill?"

A small smirk appeared on Damon's lips, finally looking towards Y/N.

"Stefan and his hero hair. He made me go vegetarian... well, for a vampire... and I can't get myself to eat one of those chipmunks, bunnies or bambis." He shook himself with disgust.

"And why did he count you in? You clearly aren't excited about the changing... So, why did you agree?"

"He said, he would kill me, which is kinda funny. But-" Damon made a wide gesture "he stole my daylight ring. And he wouldn't give it back until I stop feeding on innocent people - and kill them."

"So, you truly let your younger brother blackmail you like that?! Wow... I don't know how to feel about your dieting or your new path. Or whatever this is supposed to be."

"You don't like me killing people either", Damon maintained, while taking another sip of bourbon.

"Well, I don't", Y/N agreed, took a step forward, stole the glass from the vampires hand and put it on a small table nearby. "But I don't believe in forcing as a method to get people to change their minds. I believe that change for the better must be an intrinsic motivation," she added quickly, giving the vampire an innocent smile.

Damon's lineaments suddenly turned from annoyed to curious. "Any suggestions, little one?" The vampire raised an eyebrow and a little smirk showed up on his lips. On the one hand, Y/N blushed over the nickname, Damon called her. On the other hand she felt skittish looking forward to making a deal with him. Not only a deal. It's far more than a simple agreement.

It's Y/N, actually giving Damon a part of her. The red elixir of life. She was about to give him total control of her body and she not even for a heartbeat doubt that Damon will use it against her.

"Actually... Yeah. There's something on my mind." Y/N said chewing on your lip. "I could open up a vein for you. I mean, you could feed on me. And since you have my permission, there's nothing for anybody to have objection about."

Damon frowned and gave her an incredulous look. "You would do that for me?" The vampire couldn't believe, he understood correctly. Why would Y/N want to get involved with him feeding on her? What's in it for her? Damon tried hard to connect the dots, but he wasn't able to. It all seemed to make no sense. Y/N wouldn't have an advantage of that. The vampire hesitated, pinning his dangerously blue eyes on the girl in front of him.

"Is it so suspicious of me, that I'm trying to help my closest friend?" It pierced Y/N's heart, realizing, Damon's trust in her was rather fragile. "Never mind", she waved the pain away and forced herself to keep her composure. "I only had a hasty idea; you really don't need to fee-"

Suddenly Damon appeared behind Y/N, using his vampirism. "Shhhh", he whispered softly. "I never said, that I don't want your blood. I'm thinking about if we are going to cross a line? Blood sharing can be very personal..."

"It can be? It is personal already. Believe it or not - I'm not gonna offer my veins to all the vampires of Mystic Falls." Y/N rolled her eyes, her arms folded on her chest to point out the indignation she felt right now.

"Kinda sensitive today, huh?" Damon gently stroke a strand of hair behind her ear, Y/N could hear this smug smirk through his words. It was a true 'Damon thing' to do. "I didn't mean it like that, princess." He sighed; unsure if he should agree or not. Damon didn't want to act selfish towards Y/N. He compelled a lot of girls for the purpose of drinking blood in the past. He literally used them as long as they weren't too annoying - and then he acted like they have never met. Damon Salvatore couldn't imagine this scenario with Y/N. They've been so close, the vampire couldn't stand loosing her. The offer was risky, but it also could bring each other even closer.

Damon tried hard to avoid any serious attraction between Y/N and him, afraid of messing up. Indeed, he found himself thinking, and even dreaming, about Y/N more than he wanted to admit. She was smart and had this special sense of humor, the vampire adored so much. She was the only one, who could make him feel good no matter what. Needless to say she had that glimmer in her eyes, when she did something she truly loved. In these moments she was even more pretty. Y/N was hard to resist.

And maybe now he could have her like nobody else. At least the vampire gave in. He wanted her blood. He wanted her.

Y/N flinched by the feeling of Damon brushing her neck with his lips. "Oh, Damon", she gasped. "Bite me." Y/N almost begged for the vampire's teeth breaking through her skin. Damon loved the sound of her husky voice. In less than a heartbeat he turned into his vampire shape. "If you insist", he grinned devilishly, ready to place his teeth on to her skin.

Suddenly Y/N made a slight move forward with the intention to interrupt her friend. "Did you change your mind?" Damon was close to switching back to human, overwhelmed by a mix of emotions. Mostly a lack of understanding, but also a little of disappointment and even anger. Was Y/N playing games on him? While Damon Salvatore was sorting feelings, Y/N turned around, standing now in front of him.

She was so close, not even a piece of paper would fit between them.

Y/N slightly exhaled breath, her eyes darting between the vampires eyes and lips. It was the first time Y/N saw him like this. The icy blue of his eyes, she loved so much, has turned darker. Purple veins appeared under his eyes; Y/N couldn't help herself. Damon's appearance fully intoxicated every fibre of her being. Her fingertips found their way gently brushing over his dark purple veins. She felt heat and softness, while tracing one of them. It took her a few seconds to get out of trance, realizing what she had done. "Sorry", she murmured with a voice barely audible. "Don't apologize, little one." Damon tilted his head, his lips curled up in a self-assured grin, exposing a perfectly white vampire fang. "I never saw you like this before, you loo-"

"... look like a monster?"

Y/N shook her head. It was nothing like that. Yes, he did look unfamiliar. And she should be scared under normal conditions. Instead, his look hit her in an unexpected way. He looked hotter as a vampire, if it was even possible.

Y/N cleared her throat, looking up at Damon. "I feel... attracted to you."

"So nothing's changed", Damon teased, raising his eyebrows. The girl in front of him softly slapped him on his shoulder; which was only possible because the vampire permitted. "You are always so full of yourself." She smirked, feeling more confident being to something, they have had been so many times before. Granted, he was terrifying accurate, but she wouldn't serve her feelings on a silver platter.

"I'm still into it. You can bite me; feed on me. I only needed to see you before..."

A shockwave of electricity flowed through her body the second Damon took her hand and pulled her close.

"I'll be careful", he promised, nuzzling his head into the nap of her neck. Damon once again placed his lips on her soft skin.

Suddenly a harsh pain made Y/N feel like in a kind of haze. She flinched and let out a groan at the same time, unintentionally biting her lower lip.

During Damon embedded his fang deeper and deeper, she started feeling dizzy. Her hands searched for the vampires upper body, finally wrapped around his neck. She needed him to lean on. A narrow trickle of blood flowed down her neck. Let Damon feed on her felt like flames licking up every fiber of her body.

With every passing second Y/N could feel her control slip away. Her body was now firmly pressed against Damon's, like she would want to merge them into one.

Damon noticed her staggering, wrapped his arms around her waist, supporting her.

Bloodlust already messed up the vampires mind, so he continued feeding on Y/N.

A tempting moan escaped her lips, but she didn't care to cover up. Y/N's heart was racing, her eyes flattering. It was almost as if he was about to push her over the edge, but in a different way. "Mmm, this...this… feels soo weird... and so good...", she whispered under a shallow breath.

As soon as Damon heard her fading voice, he abruptly

quitted drinking from her.

"Fuck!" He rapidly laid her on his lap and checked Y/N's vital signs, to make sure she was okay. Instinctively he bit his wrist, pressed it against Y/N's mouth. He knew his blood would heal her, but it wasn't going fast enough. A few seconds passed through, to him they felt like centuries. Y/N finally blinked and Damon was relieved. He cupped her cheeks, his gaze never leaving hers. "I thought, I'd gone-" Damon cleaned his throat. "I'm so glad, you are doing well", he whispered, while trailing her lips with his fingertips. "So, fuckin' glad..." The vampire exhaled a deep breath.

"It... You made me feel good. Strange, but good", Y/N appeased and flushed over the memory. "Maybe you got a little carried away, but I don't mind. I wouldn't trade the feeling for anything."

Y/N quickly interrupted herself, before she could reveal too much.

However, Damon used his vampire skills, noticing that Y/N was hiding something from him. "Isn't there anything else you want me to know?", Damon asked without taking his eyes off her. Y/N shifted and flushed even more. "It's unfair. You use your vampirism to get everything out of me."

"Well, if that were the case, I could easily compel you." Damon shrugged and found back to his smugly self. "Tell me, what you are hiding". He said in a seductive voice.

"I wanted to get lost in you."

Her confession sent shivers all over the vampires body. At first he could not decide, how to handle this. "Are you sure that's what you want? I could really hurt you..." Y/N hummed.

In the next split second, Damon pinned Y/N against a wall, smashing his lips on hers, kissing her with all the passion he had to give. The vampire devoured Y/N with a new kind of hunger. He didn't know he could crave someone so much.

"Fuck me, Damon..."

The vampire felt him getting hard, only by hearing those little three words out of her mouth.

"Say it louder. Tell me, what you want me to do."

Y/N pulled him closer, gently biting his earlobe.

"Fuck... me, Damon." It took her a second to focus and forming the words again. After she was near to climax earlier, it wasn't a long way getting to the edge once more. "Make me cum... You almost had me there..."

A deep moan got over the vampires lips, once he understood, what Y/N was trying to tell him.

With the next blink Y/N found herself in Damon's bedroom, lying on his bed.

From now on there weren't many words needed. Damon's hand's found their way under her shirt, cupping her breasts and make her moan over and over again.

He closely listened to the rhythm of her heart, making sure he would be able to delay her climax to the point he needed her to.

"Don't cum yet... I want to taste your little pussy first."

Y/N grabbed the vampires head, running her fingers through his dark hair - pushing him down, since she was unable to form a single word.

As Damon got down, he didn't take his eyes off Y/N.

He used a hand pushing up her skirt and lightly stroking over her panties with his fingertips.

"My girl is so wet", he praised in a low husky voice."-and I barely touched you."

His dirty words in combination with his touch lead to another moan, almost turned into a scream.

Damon pushed the fabric aside, leaving sloppy kisses on the inside of her thighs.

Y/N's eyes fluttered, when his soft lips reached her middle.

Damon's tongue licking around her entrance was driving her nuts.

"...so delicious..." were the only words she was able to catch up. Damon knew, he couldn't thrill her forever, so he got back to her. He spit on his palms, stroking his hand over his crotch. In under a second Y/N finally felt this releasing pressure of his cock. It was like a switch went off in her brain and she braced herself for the hard thrusts that would follow.

Damon dimmed the whining noises Y/N made with a passionate, hungry kiss.

He cheated with his vampirism to give it to her deeper and faster, knocking out all the air of her lungs while Y/N screamed out Damon's name. Her walls clenched around him and made him twitch. It was like her pussy massaged his dick the best way possible.

Every time he hit her harder and rougher he was making sure he hit her spot with every thrust.

Damon gathered speed one last time and pushed her over the edge until she was a moaning whimpering mess.

With her last contraction around his shaft, Damon was cumming inside her.

"You are so tight, little one", he whispered under his breath. "We should make arrangements more often."

Please like or/and reblog if you enjoyed reading or/and want me to write more stories about Damon.

Thanks guys ❤️

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hotdamnhunnam · 3 years

Note

Hey lovie! Sorry I’m a bit late but could I request something for your 2k celebration (congrats again!💛)

Could I request a Jax Teller story with these emojis

🌧👅⛺️

I look forward to seeing what story you write based off of these emojis! 💛

Thanks for your request for my Emoji Fic Fest! And thanks for the congrats! 💗

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Bitch a Tent

Pairing: Jax Teller x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, sex in the great outdoors, while it rains and pours Word Count: ~1k Emoji Prompt: 🌧👅⛺️ (key words are in bold)

“Fuck this shit!”

Jax Teller’s first ever attempt to pitch a tent just isn’t going very well. He’s never been camping before and you can tell. Ten minutes in and he’s fed up with it. Fuming and furious as hell. Throwing the bitchiest bitch fit.

It doesn’t help now that the weather fucking sucks. It’s rotten luck. One of those days when even though the sun shines bright, a random shower just attacks from out of nowhere which is really not alright. Totally fucked. The rain has paused for now but both of you are soaked. You’re not complaining since your man looks so damn good all dripping wet it makes you choke.

Droplets are trickling from his beard as damp gold tresses frame his face… his shirt is matted to his skin and perfectly accentuates the contours of his muscles in a way that makes your dirty little heart hammer and race…

You struggle not to let your thirsty thoughts distract you as you see him hopelessly shoving a tent pole in the totally wrong place.

“Jax, stop!” you laugh, watching him grappling with the pole so angrily he’s close to breaking it in half. Stuck in a battle with this bendy piece of metal and determined to come out on fucking top. You take it in your own grip firm and tight. Wishing instead that you were grasping at his shaft. “Hold up, you’re not sticking it in right…”

He flashes you his signature smug smirk, because he’s such a fucking jerk. “That isn’t what you said last night.”

You roll your eyes and stick your tongue out at him like a bratty little child. Wishing instead that you could wrap that slutty tongue around his big fat dick and drive him fucking wild.

Jax chuckles, looking on and licking his lips as you expertly drive in this stubborn rod where it belongs, grasp hard and strong, tight and white-knuckled. “Lookatchu working that pole.”

“Just had to lend a hand because my dumbass boyfriend couldn’t stick it in the fucking hole.”

“What if I told you I was screwing up on purpose so that I could watch you do it?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t. I’d call bullshit,” you scoff knowing that he’s full of it. “Your alpha male ego is bruised because your girl can do what you couldn’t, and you’d better fess up to it.”

Of course you know Jax Teller never ever will. But just as you’d intended, he’s offended… so the beast in him is raging now as he’s dripping with rainwater. And he’s never looked hotter. Hot enough to fucking kill.

***************

“I’ll show you how I stick it in the fucking hole.”

Jax loves to literally make you eat your words. He rasps them fierce into the wet gape of your mouth until they pierce into your soul, now as he pounds you on a bed of rain-soaked grass so hard it hurts. He’s just the worst. Gets off on pumping you so full and swallowing you whole. Your pussy pulsates all around his massive girth stretching you out until it feels like you’re about to fucking burst.

The tent that you had started putting up is far from finished. But Jax really couldn’t wait to do his business. He’s been railing you to pieces as the rain showers began, soaking the both of you again, just over these past several minutes.

And now he’s gloating on the power that his godlike cock has over you as he continues splitting your wet pussy open with it. Just the way he loves to plow. The way that only Jax knows how. “That shut you up real good now, didn’t it.”

You need to cum but you already know that he’s forbidden it. The rule that you can only ever reach release when Jax permits it is engraved deep in your core where his divine dominant dick has proudly written it. You’d never dare to disobey after how many times you’ve ridden it.

Although the two of you are clothed, it’s like the rain has stripped you both. The way it soaks makes such a joke of all your clothing. Barriers between your skin and his reduced to fucking nothing. The godly gorgeous man above you is a motherfucking king and looks more powerful than ever with the way the rainfall darkens as it drenches. Everything inside you clenches.

You could just die from this view. You do die as he then leans down to kiss you. Kisses long and hard and slow, pace of his lips such a stark contrast to the fast snap of his hips as his thick shaft slides in and out of your tight cunt until you’re both about to blow.

In the exact second that Jax at last allows you to let go… a bolt of lightning streaks across the sky with its electric glow, and you cum harder than the thunder bound to follow—light and sound moments apart, unlike the two of you who cum undone in sync to the aligned pound of your hearts, your peak and his one and the same as his seed spills explosively and fills you so ferociously while all your juices flow. Just how a man on earth can fuck like this you’ll never really know.

It doesn’t matter though—you’re his and he is yours and thankfully you know exactly how to push all of his buttons. Piss him off so that he’ll fuck your cunt to bits all of a sudden.

When it’s time to pitch a tent Jax Teller turns into a whiny little bitch who fucking can’t. But you sure can, and aren’t afraid to show it even if it makes him feel less of a man. What really matters is that you can always pitch a very big tent in his pants.

Cum rain or shine, Jax Teller’s dick is just divine. To you he is a golden god wielding his fuck-stick like a thunderbolt and goddamn does he love to play that role. He’s got the biggest pole, and always knows exactly how to stick it in the hole.

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Emoji Fic Masterlist

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chrisevansmaid · 3 years

Text

Virginal

Summary: You go to a beach town in search of losing your virginity. The server at dinner is extra cute but it's also young Chris evans.

*this pic is from chris’s twitter*

MUST BE 18+!!!!

I see everyone saying this, so 18+ pleaseeeee. Begoneeeee youngins

Pairing: Chris Evans x female!reader, Young!Chris Evans x minor!reader, (Name inserted but you can switch it to yours)

Word Count: 3393

Perspective: Reader

Warnings: SMUTTT, p in v, mentions of smoking weed / dab pen, oral sex (female receiving), FLUFF AND ANGST, high sex, lowkey rough sex, dirty talk, degrading dirty talk, EXPLICIT sexual content, age gap, minor having sex with non-minor (17F with 20M),

Authors note:

FIRST FIC YAY!!!!!! Don't be mean pls <3.

I’m really bad at tenses so if it keeps switching from present to past tense sorry. The only grammar corrector I’m using is grammarly so if something doesn’t make sense oopsie, I’m too lazy from spending a while on this fic to go anal and analyze every sentence for errors.

Okay so… I’m a pisces which basically means I can never stop daydreaming. Also the backstory is lowkey gonna be my backstory lol. This is how I wished I lost my virginity plus make it Chris evans.

*THIS IS NOT BASED OFF OF CHRIS ITS FULLY FROM MY IMAGINATION*

Idk I'm bored and it's summer so I have nothing to do. YES THIS IS ABOUT A MINOR BUT IN MY STATE THE AGE OF CONSENT IS 16 SO CHILL.

18+ PLEASE STOP READING NOW IF YOU ARE A MINOR

So I’m a virgin. Not because I am a prude or anything, but it never worked. I like to self diagnose so my conclusion is I have vaginismus. That is basically rolled into my cervix/vagina clenches up whenever I try to have sex so no dick fits in and if anything does fit it's incredibly painful. It's not a matter of being turned on cus I could have Niagara Falls in my panties and it still wouldn’t work, trust me. Even being fingered was awful and I’ve been fingered like 10 times and none of them were enjoyable. My sister says I’m just really tight. Idk. I can finger myself and it's good-ish, I mean how far up can you reach with your own hand?

But I’ve had enough of being a virgin and I just want someone to blow my back out. Preferably some sexy older guy. And because I’m sick and tired of having an untapped pussy I’ve devised a plan. I am going to the beach in a week or so and I am going to find the guy who I had my first kiss with and have him fuck me. Or some other hot guy I meet. But to make sure my inhibitions are lowered and my vagina doesn’t clench from nerves I am gonna get a little high before.

1 week later.

My mom, stepdad, and I arrive at the beach and it is so pretty. I love this beach. It brings back so many good memories. I am rooming with my childhood friend, Sarah, and she knows I want to get fucked. We’ve snuck out before and we are so excited for this week. I take a picture of the beach and put it on my Snapchat story with my location tagged. This will let my first kiss know I’m near him so he can hit me up to fuck me.

The day goes by kinda slow because all I could think of was walking up and down the boardwalk trolling for hot men. Finally, night comes and all the families that are at the beach go to dinner. I was kinda bored but then our server came. He was something else.

“Hi my name’s Chris and I’ll be your server tonight.” Ugh. Even his voice made my whole body warm up. His greenish blue eyes stared into my soul as he took my order. His dirty blonde hair was perfectly quaffed and the way his black shirt hugged his biceps was absolutely sinful. Okay yes, he was probably in his early twenties but who said I was ageist. If anything an older man would know how to fuck a woman better than any stupid high school senior that I would meet.

I got up to go to the bathroom and saw Chris on my way. We locked eyes and didn't break contact until I went into the bathroom. As I stepped out of the bathroom I saw him again. It looked like he was waiting for me. His body was leaned up against the wall across from the bathroom I had just exited. He stopped me and said “Call me.” and handed me a piece of paper. Before I had a chance to say anything he turned and I was watching his perfect ass walk away.

I went back to the table as if nothing happened. I don’t think anyone noticed my uncontrollable smile. Throughout the dinner, I could not tear my eyes away from our sexy server. I think Sarah noticed but I was gonna tell her about it when my parents weren’t right there. We finished dinner and all went back to the beach house. When we got back I told Sarah and she was so shook. We were racking our brains on what I should text Chris. I didn’t want to come off too strong but also I wanted this man to fuck me. So we settled on:

“Hey”

Yes. I know it's lame but he’s older defffffinitely older and I can’t act too young. Ugh, I am so scared of his response it's absolutely killing me. Sarah, two other girls that came to the beach, and I decide to go out for ice cream. At least ice cream would take my mind off waiting for a response. As we wait in line I feel my phone buzz in my pocket. I pull it out and it’s Chris.

“I thought I told you to call me” His response is very bold but for some reason, it only intrigues you more. Immensely more. I show Sarah and she smiles.

“Guess who’s getting her wish tonight.”

“Oh my god,” I respond. “What do I say?” I am literally so scared that he will think I’m too young or too much of a child.

“Um, don’t say anything. Call him.” Sarah says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Do I actually call him? I’m literally getting the worst knots in my stomach and now I have to shit and I’m literally so nervous over a phone call. I am not a spontaneous person. AT ALL.

“Okay, I’m gonna call him.” I say to Sarah after literally pondering this for 5 minutes.

Oh god. This is so scary. I tell Sarah to get me a vanilla ice cream with rainbow sprinkles and I step out of the line. I go to the walkway near the ice cream shop away from the crowd so I can hear better. I dial his number and put the phone to my ear.

It rings like 3 times and he picks up.

“Hey.” He says and his voice is even sexier than I remember.

“Hey.” I literally didn’t know what to say and I am pacing up and down the sidewalk.

“So you must be the hot girl I gave my number to.”

“And you must be the sexy server.” Some wave of confidence came over me and that was the best response I could come up with.

“So what’s your name?”

“Olivia and if I remember correctly, your name is...” I paused to let him fill in the blank

“Chris.”

“Chris, that's right.” I wanted to come off like I didn’t hang onto every word he said and so I played it off like his name wasn’t already filling my fantasies.

“So Liv, when am I gonna see you again?” He asks and this caught me a little off guard that he would jump straight to the point but I guess why prolong the inevitable.

“I don’t know, when are you free?”

“Can I pick you up tonight around 12?” Ugh yes. My plan was filling out nicely.

“Sounds great.” I mean what else am I supposed to say?

“Send me where you’ll be and I’ll pick you up then.” His assertive tone was a panty fucking dropper.

“Okay. See you then Chris.” I’ve picked up from my previous male experiences that if you say a guy's name he’ll be more inclined to fuck you. I mean I totally pulled that out of my ass but I wanted to sound like a confident vixen, not some 17 year old virgin.

“Bye Liv.” The way he made up a nickname for me had me reddening in my cheeks and warming in my core. I say bye and hang up. As soon as the call ends I’m running back to Sarah and telling her every little detail. Okay, I really needed to get back home and shit.

Sarah, the other girls, and I go back to the house and hang out for like an hour, and then it’s 11 and all the parents are asleep. I need to start preparing. So I take a phat shit and then shower even though I showered before dinner but I need to wash off my nervous sweats. I shave everywhere and when I get out I lotion my entire body, put on my sexy lingerie, and douse myself with perfume. I do my makeup but it’s simple and of course waterproof. I text Chris the address of the beach house but tell him to pick me up a couple houses down. I tell Sarah she needs to sneak out with me so if we get caught I can pretend me and her were just hanging outside the house. Sarah and I sneak out the back and bring her cart. I take a couple hits to calm myself down because god forbid I tense up before he can get his dick in. It's like 11:55. God my stomach is in knots.

It’s 12. ‘Oh god’ I think to myself. I see a white range rover pull up at the end of the block. I say bye to Sarah and walk to the car. I see his face. Oh, fuck still sexy. I open his car door and jump into the passenger seat.

“Hey.” I say

“Hey, Liv.” He says back. Him saying that little nickname he gave me is so much hotter in person. So so so much hotter. I think he knows what it does to me because his lips curl into a smirk. “Let’s go for a drive.” Chris says.

“Okay, I’m down.” I say back and kinda rethinking saying ‘I’m down’ because he is definitely rethinking how old I am.

We start driving around and talking and thank god the radio is on to fill any silence there could be. It’s on the country station and him liking country music is literally another added bonus. Then When it Rains it Pours comes on and I say “Omg I love this song.”

“Really?” He says back. “I’ve never met a girl as pretty as you that actually likes country music.”

“Are you kidding? I love country music.” I say back not noting he just called me pretty. We mindlessly chat for like 20 minutes and Chris pulls the car into an empty parking lot that overlooks the whole beach town.

“This is so pretty.” I say in awe of the gorgeous view. I can see from the corner of my eye that Chris is just looking at me.

“Not as good as my view.” He says back in a soft tone that has me melting to the floor of the car. I look back at him and we sit in silence just staring into each other's eyes. I glance at his lips and they look so kissable. They are the perfect amount of plump without being too big. When I look back to his eyes he is still staring at me. His lips almost form a smile and he grabs and cheek and kisses me. It’s even better than each and every one of my fantasies. I grab the back of his neck and kiss him even harder back. Before I know it the kiss gets more rushed and Chris is running his hands along the curve of my back. Our lips are crashing into each others with fervor like no other. He pulls me into his lap and he ruts his hips upward. He takes his left hand and moves the seat back and starts kissing down my neck. His lips leave little bite marks and he reaches my bosoms. He pulls my tank top down and pulls my breasts out of my bra and sucks on my right nipple as he pinches the left. Soft mewls leave my lips and he stops to look at me and the rush of cold air sends goosebumps across my skin. He leans up and kisses my neck and leaves marks all the way to my ear lobe and whispers “Before I fuck you until you can’t remember your name, How old are you?”

Forming words is harder than I imagined so between pants I say back “17.”

“Perfect” he whispers back while still biting my neck. “Come here” he says as he opens the door. I hop off him and outside the car and see the tent forming in his pants. He picks me up and wraps my legs around him and pins me against the car door. He bites my lip and I can’t imagine anything better than this moment. While still mounted on his he opens the door to the backseat and lays me down. He gets on top of me and shuts the door behind him. He ruts against my core and his jeans rub against the soft fabric of my athletic shorts. Although my mind is completely fixed on his engorged cock a thought forms in my mind. What if he thinks I’ve done this before? What If I’m so bad he doesn’t even speak to me again? These thoughts completely cloud my mind and Chris notices.

“What's wrong?” he says as he pulls away. I glance at his bitten lips and pant trying to form words.

“Nothing just, I... I’m a virgin.” I blurt out. I am so scared I ruined the moment but his expression only intensifies.

“Oh well we just can’t have that now can we?” He says back and his lust blown pupils grow darker and he kisses me with such intensity my thoughts completely leave my mind. I could get drunk off the taste of him. Chris breaks the kiss and rips off his shirt showing his perfectly chiseled abs. I felt them through the cotton but seeing them right in front of my eyes makes my mouth open. My lips peak into a smile and he picks me up and places my back closer to the car door. He rips off my shorts and starts kissing down my neck to my navel and I run my fingers through his hair. My chest rises and falls quicker as his lips reach my red lace covered mound. His teeth grab the waistband and he pulls off my panties.

He inhales and says “So sweet.” His husky voice vibrating against my core. His kisses dance around my thighs. As more sounds leave my mouth Chris bites my skin. His hands hold my legs open as he licks down my folds. His tongue flickers across my clit leaving me trembling. I had never felt this way from anyone ever. My fingers run through his short dirty blonde hair and my nails dig into his scalp leaving crescent shaped indents. He slips his middle finger through my folds as he sucks on my clit. His fingers curl up hitting a spot I never knew existed. A feeling in my stomach starts intensifying and spreading through my entire body and I tremble in euphoria. Chris finger fucks me through my first ever orgasm. I shut my eyes tightly and when I open them Chris is staring right at me. I grab the hair on the nape of his neck and pull him back up to kiss me. I can taste myself still on his tongue as the material of his jeans rubs against my sensitive bud. His fingers pinch my nipples as he slips his tongue between my lips. I reach down and feel his throbbing cock through his pants. As I rub with the palm of my hand, throaty moans leave his mouth. Nothing was stronger than my desire to be fucked raw by this sex god. I pulled away from the kiss and say as I stare deep into his eyes “Fuck me Chris.” My words are efficacious to him.

He licked his lips like an animal locked onto his prey. “Don’t have to ask me twice.” He pulls down his jeans and takes his cock out of his boxers. I have seen a dick before but never that big. My mouth almost dropped to the floor. He pulled a condom out of the back of the seat and wrapped it around his cock. He pumped his dick a few times before running the head along my sodden folds. “You ready?” I had never been more ready for anything in my entire life. Unable to form words I nodded my head. Chris pushes his cock into me slowly. I gasped at the feeling. I wasn’t as tight as I usually was but it still stung. Each inch stung a little more until he bottomed out into me. He stilled. His breath was hot on my ear as our breathing synced. I gasped again as he pulled his hips back. I reached down and pulled him back into me.

“Don’t hold back.” I said. I wanted this to be as enjoyable for him as it was for me. Chris pulled out and thrust back into me again. The groans that left this throat made my pussy clench around him. He picks up his pace and pain turns into pleasure. My legs wrap around his thighs and I’m pulling him into me.

“You dirty little slut. So needy.” He whispered into my ear. The sound that escaped my lips drew him deeper in like a moth to a flame. Chris drives his cock into me faster so that all you can hear is breathy moans and the lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin. Chris moves his hand to my throat and squeezes. I try to moan but they catch in my throat and I look back at Chris. His mouth is agape and he is staring deep into my eyes. He thrusts so deep my eyes roll back and I have to shut them. He grabs my chin and pulls my face to meet his. “Look at me. Don’t look away. I want to see your face as I make you cum on my dick.” His cock is hitting places he didn’t even reach when fingering me. Another orgasm rips through me and my body trembles harder this time. Chris fucks me through my orgasm and just as I regained my mental awareness I could feel another one coming on. Chris squeezes harder on my neck as he sucks on my hardened nipples. He bites my skin and takes his hand from my neck and reaches between our sweaty writhing bodies and pinches my clit. A guttural moan leaves my throat as another excruciatingly intense orgasm takes over my entire body. I can tell Chris isn’t far behind because his thrusts become sporadic and he puts all his body weight into his last thrust and stills. The noises he makes me wish he was still fucking me. He leans down to meet my lips once again but this time it is slower and more gingerly. He pulls his dick out and lays down on top of me.

We catch our breaths and I say. “Wow, that was.. fuck.”

Chris softly laughs and says “Who knew a 17 year old could have me in the palm of their hand.”

“Who knew a however-old-you-are would take my virginity.” I say with a smile on my face.

“I’m 20, I probably should have told you earlier.” He says looking a little guilty.

“Don’t worry it would have only turned me on more.” I laugh back and our lips join in a soft kiss.

Chris and I look at the dashboard and see it's 1:30 am. “Shit I should probably get home before my friend worries too much.” I say looking back at Chris and he nods. We sit up and reach down for our clothes. I reach for my underwear and Chris snatches it from my hands.

“These are mine now.” Chris smirks.

“Fine.” I put on my shorts and pull my top back on. Sadly Chris covers his humongous biceps with his shirt. I lean in and meet Chris with a kiss. We get back into our respective seats and Chris looks at me with a dumb smile.

“Why are you staring at me?” I say with a giggle.

“Oh, nothing.” Chris says and his smile only looks more like a 6 year old who just stole a cookie before dinner. I mean technically he did just steal something but that's beside the point. Chris puts the car back into drive and turns around to back up.

As he drives me home there's more small talk but then he asks “How long will you be in town?”

“A week,” I say. Chris’s dumb smile returns. “Okay, what's that smile for?”

Chris looks at me and says “I’m just excited to fuck you every night this week.”

#chris evans #cevans #firstfanfic #yay #excited #chris evans fanfc #chris evans x reader #young chris evans #chris evans x female reader #chris evans smut #chris evans fluff #chris evans imagine #smut #fluff #beach #stranger smut

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dizzydancingdreamer · 3 years

Text

Persephone's Symphony | Day One | Persephone

Hey lovelies— so as per my usual shenanigans I've decided this will have no schedule and that I will play god to my own creation because what is life without some chaos? The pros are you might not have to wait a week between updates, the cons are you might have to wait a week between updates. In all seriousness, please enjoy my lovelies!

Synopsis: In which he is the bad one— the dangerous one, the clunky one, the one who only knows how to break things— and she is the good one— the fragile one, the soft one, the one who knows how to put things back together— and he has to keep her alive long enough for anyone else— anyone who can do more than kill— to save her like she deserves to be saved— to save her from him. There are no pomegranates, no three headed dogs, and no requirement to stay— that is, if they don’t count an assassin on the loose out for her neck. In that case, three days in a safe house doesn’t feel like a long time— just long enough for Persephone and Hades to remember why opposites attract.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader (third person)

Warnings: Mentions of death, at times semi-graphic, eventual smut

Word count: 3.1k

Previous | Next

Master List

She can’t hear what the man in the truck says to him— the walls of this house are surprisingly thick. She supposes that’s a good thing. It means she will be able to go about her days normally while cooped up here. Well, as normal as possible. She doubts she’ll be able to get away with her three am rom-com marathons and ice-cream binges. She doubts she’ll get away with screaming in her sleep— and in the shower and at the breakfast table and when doing any, little thing that makes her remember that her life is one, constant nightmare.

It’s only three days— all she has to do is stay awake for three days.

While his head— her body guard’s head— is turned she leans against the kitchen sink, inching back the white lace curtain for what feels like the hundredth time. It’s like a little game at this point. She peeks at him, his eyes snap to hers, and she squeals and drops the curtain. Thank god the walls are thick. It’s almost unnerving how tuned he is to every little movement— not almost, it is unnerving but she supposes that is what makes him a good fit for this job. A good fit for keeping her alive. Like she has been doing for months now, she ignores the way her chest squeezes painfully.

Through the little strip of window that she allows for herself, she traces over his features one last time. Cropped black hair, a square jaw, at least two days worth of stubble. He looks like a bodyguard— rough, dangerous, manly— and that’s before taking into account the sheer size of the man. She is on her tiptoes, one hand pushing against the stainless steel below her for dear life, and she still has to crane her neck to properly see his face. She refuses to let her eyes wander any further than that— she had already glimpsed at the rest of him when he had made the short walk from the truck to the house. She already knows he’s massive.

His eyebrow twitches and she drops the curtain— she may not be as fast as he is but she’s a quick learner. Had she held the curtain open longer she is sure his eyes would have flicked to hers again. Those are the rules of the game, after all. She hears a muted thumping and the door handle jiggle from across the room, spinning towards the faded farmhouse door. She watches as the door handle turns, her throat tight, wondering where all the air in the room went— it was there a second ago.

The door pushes open and she jumps away from the sink, only just realizing what it’ll look like if he comes inside to her still hunched over the window. Of course, he’s already seen her but that’s beside the point. Part of the game is not talking about the game. A boot comes into view— the black, military grade kind— and it hits her like a punch to the gut that this is real— there really is someone out there trying to kill her. Now she really can’t breath. She can only force her lungs to expand to draw in some oxygen before her bodyguard finds her sprawled in an unconscious heap on the ground.

The boot is quickly followed by a leg, which is then, by default, followed by a torso and a head. A head that turns and watches her freeze, red handed like a bandit, in the middle of the kitchen. Gods, she should have just kept leaning against the sink— this is worse! Her hands are up and everything, shot out in front of her like she’s about to jump him or something. Yes, her— the girl currently in a hoodie that pools around her legs, displaying her knobby knees and bad posture— about to jump him— the man who had to practically duck to get through the doorway. She could laugh. In fact, she almost wishes he would laugh at her. She wishes he would do anything but look at her with that blank expression and those ice blue eyes.

“Uhm—” she blinks, trying to think of something to say other than holy shit you’re a giant— which, for the record, is what she wants to say— “hi?”

Are you serious, y/n?

He tilts his head at her and she almost cries. Not the same fear ridden, heartbroken, panicky cries of late. More so the awkward, why the fuck would you say that to the man charged with keeping you alive brand of cries. The normal kind. She drops her hands to her sides, slipping them into the pouch of her hoodie and tangling her fingers together. She can only allow herself to display one embarrassing thing at a time.

The man stays silent for a moment, each second of which makes her cheeks flame hotter and hotter, before finally opening his mouth. “Hi.”

Her chest deflates— some of the heat subsiding. He copied her. Whether purposefully or mockingly it alleviates some of the stupidity she’s feeling. She takes a few steps backwards, her bare feet pittering rather loudly over the worn hardwood. Well, that didn’t last long— there’s that embarrassment again.

“I’m y/n,” she squeaks out— gods, is Mickey Mouse in the building? “I guess you already know that though, huh?”

It was a stroke of genius putting her hands in her pocket— at least now he can’t see the way they shake furiously. She has to resist smashing her head against the sink. Nothing about this situation is optimal, to say the very least. Here she is making small talk with a man who could tear her in half. Her eyes drift to where his red henley pulls taut around his biceps— are they bigger than her head?

“James—” her eyes flick back up, face hotter than the sun, both from her blatant staring and the deep gravel of his voice— “but most people call me Bucky.”

Her eyes widen. She doesn’t know why, probably because she’s an idiot or because she isn’t expecting him to say more than three words. He seems like the strong, silent type. Maybe that is just the rom-coms though. Maybe her brain is just mush now.

“Okay,” she all but whispers, backing further into the sink. His piercing eyes have yet to leave her— something which makes her knees knock together and fingers clench. “Which should I call you?”

He tenses, his dark eyebrows pulling together, and she has to swallow the bile that rises in her throat. It’s day one and she’s already offending him. She pulls her lip between her teeth, biting down until the tangy, metallic taste that she has grown too familiar with these past months floods her mouth. She tells herself that she does it to keep from cursing. Lying to herself is another game she likes to play.

The longer he remains quiet, the more she regrets asking the question. His blue eyes are still latched on her, drifting over the space between her eyes and her busted lip, but somehow they also seem miles away. She can’t tell if he’s looking at her— seeing her— or if he’s seeing something else entirely. It isn’t until she pushes off the counter, taking a hesitant step forward, her foot slapping against the wood like it’s trying to embarrass her again, that he blinks. She pulls one of her hands from the puddle that is her hoodie, sliding it over her hair. Can he see the way it shakes?

Probably.

“Nevermind, forget I asked. It was a dumb ques—”

“Bucky,” the word is rushed out, falling over her own stuttered babbling. He slows after that, his face remaining stoic but his cheeks dusting with the slightest hint of pink. “Call me Bucky.”

She doesn’t point it out— she doesn’t have a death wish. Her being here right now, standing across from a literal giant, barefoot and shaking, is proof enough of that. Instead she nods gently, lowering her hand slowly. He’s not going to attack her— he isn’t a wolf— but still she takes the precaution. Better safe than sorry.

“Bucky it is then.”

He nods stiffly and she pretends like it doesn’t make her hands shake harder. She waits for him to speak, eyes drifting over the blue cupboards and the breakfast nook, taking in the applications of the home and trying not to scream. She feels so out of place, not used to the warmth in the room— the lingering smell of yeast and the flowers in the vase on the table. She used to bake all the time. Now she can barely bring herself to microwave frozen dinners. The sun that filters through the crack in the curtains and lands against her cheek feels like pure fire. She spends her days in the dark— she wouldn’t be surprised if she was allergic to the sun itself now. Allergic to all the things she used to enjoy.

The silence is too much— she has to speak to keep her throat from closing. If she doesn’t then it may not open again.

“So—” she draws the word out, her eyes flopping to the floor where her toe scuffs against a particularly worn board— “we just kinda follow each other around then?”

His face doesn’t change, his lips remaining in the same, expressionless line— a master of one trade. “Pretty much. I follow you.”

“And make sure I don’t die.” She fills the rest in— there’s no point not to. He’s definitely seen the pictures.

Finally his expression shifts, his lips pressing together tersely. It’s an answer in it’s own right— he pities her. He shifts his weight between his feet, the floorboards creaking below him. It could just be her but the sound slices through the room— loud and unforgiving— and she can’t stop the way she flinches. He freezes, obviously noticing her reaction. She almost slaps herself. Leave it to her to make an already tense situation worse. Is it going to be this awkward the entire time?

“You’re not going to die.” His voice is softer than his boots, barely reaching her ears as it cuts through the rigid atmosphere.

She doesn’t know what to say— how do she tell her bodyguard that she doesn’t believe him? He’s supposed to be the one saving her life. It feels risky to suggest that he wouldn’t be able to do that. Like telling the universe that she wants to die. She doesn’t want to die. It’s just hard not to think about death when it follows her everywhere she goes. For twenty-four years she was just y/n. Now look at her.

The queen of death.

She doesn’t know what to say so instead she changes the subject.

“Are you hungry?”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

She makes grilled cheese for lunch. It is nothing special but the smell of the butter alone makes the energy she has to scrape together to make them worth it. She can’t remember the last time she cooked like this— the last time she tasted anything but freezer burnt macaroni and lumpy gravy. A couple times she almost drops the spatula, her fingers not used to having to be so coordinated, but the promise of melted cheddar has her fighting through the tremors. That and the audience of one, standing next to her with his arms crossed like he’s judging her culinary skills rather than looking for snipers.

It’s all in her head. That’s what she tells herself at least.

“You want extra cheese?”

She can feel Bucky’s eyes on the side of her face— is there something on her cheek? “Sure.”

It’s all in her head.

She flips the sandwiches, watching as the fluffy white bread is replaced with a perfect, golden brown toast. Her stomach growls, the sound somehow louder than the sizzling pan in her hand. The scream bubbles in her throat again— fuck. Why must everything she does be so humiliating? Why can’t she just keep it together for three days!

“Bacon?” Cue the voice crack.

“Bacon?” He repeats the word back like he hasn’t the faintest clue what a pig is— like somehow he’s a giant of a man but has never touched a piece of meat in his entire life.

Like it’s the dumbest question he has ever been asked. She swallows— hard— her cheeks pooling with heat again. She’s starting to wonder if it ever even left. If he asks she’ll blame it on the steam rising off the pan or her hoodie or both. But he won’t ask— he won’t speak until he has to. It did not take her long to gather that fact.

“You’ve never had bacon on grilled cheese?” It feels like he’s glaring at her.

It’s all in her damn head.

The floorboards groan underneath Bucky again and instead of flinching this time she tries to imagine what they might be saying. Save me, he’s crushing me! She flicks her eyes down, glancing at those military grade boots and then at her own toes, tiny and feeble compared to the size of his gear. One wrong step and her foot would likely be broken. She isn’t too worried about that though— he seems careful. His movements thus far have been slow and calculated, skirting around her and leaving at least a few feet between them at all times. Maybe that isn’t to keep from stepping on her though— maybe he just doesn’t like her. She wouldn’t blame him.

“You say it like that’s unheard of.” He doesn’t say it angrily but there’s no exuberance in his voice either— just the monotone she’s come to expect. It’s been one hour and she can already see how the next seventy-one are going to play out.

“Where I’m from it is.”

There’s a pause— the sound of butter crackling against the pan and of the steady picking up of rain against the kitchen window as it eats away at the sunshine— and she’s expecting the conversation to drop there. He isn’t there to entertain her, after all. That’s what the TV is for— what Leonardo DiCaprio is for.

But then there’s an answer. “Where are you from?”

The corner of her mouth lifts— an action so foreign she can practically see the dust shedding from her rusty smile— and she turns from the frypan long enough to meet his icy eyes and to throw out an arm, putting the front of her hoodie on display for the stoic man.

“SoCal.”

Her mouth lifts higher when Bucky raises an eyebrow, nodding slowly. He could be mocking her but she chooses to believe he’s interested. She chooses to believe that they are making progress and that she won’t have to spend three days talking to the walls. She turns back to the sandwiches, flipping them for the last time before laying down a few strips of bacon next to them.

She isn’t expecting him to keep going but she also isn’t complaining when his voice tickles her ears again. “Caltech, huh? S’that Pasadena?”

She tries to keep her smile from morphing into a full blown grin— she isn’t sure if her poor lips would be able to handle it. It’s been too long since she last used her mouth this much; both for smiling and talking. “Yes sir— born and raised.”

He hums and she watches from the corner of her eye as he leans to the window, peering out of it for a moment. There’s no one out there— at least she strongly doubts there is. This place is in the middle of nowhere. She hasn’t even heard a car since the truck that dropped Bucky off drove away. It’s supposed to be peaceful. She doesn’t see it. All she sees is the dreadful but necessary silence— at least hopefully that way they’ll hear someone coming.

“How about you? Where are you from—” she flips the bacon, pushing it around the pan, her mouth watering at the thought of the greasy, gooey goodness she’s about to consume— “You mind finding some plates?”

She hears him rummage through the cupboard above his head— well, above her head, in front of his— before two mismatched pieces of dishware appear before her nose. Grabbing them, she lets the corners of her lips tick up just the tiniest bit further.

“Indiana— but spent most of my time in Brooklyn.”

“It shows.” She muses, not turning to see whether or not he appreciates the comment.

It’s true regardless— she can hear some of the mannerisms of New York in his voice. Not many. He hasn’t said enough for her to truly gauge just how strong his accent is. Still it’s there, in the gruffness of his tone, just like she’s sure the SoCal shines through in her. At least it normally does— lately she hasn’t exactly been the picture of sunshine.

She removes the sandwiches from the pan, layering them carefully onto the plates. After staring at them for a moment she settles on the one that she wants, handing Bucky the bigger of the two. It’s only fair— he could probably eat at least four. She watches as the giant gives it a glance, rolling her eyes when he hesitantly lifts it to his lips, taking the smallest of bites. Is he afraid of a sandwich?

“I promise I’m not trying to poison you— I need you to stay alive, remember?”

He only grunts.

She has to turn away when he takes a bigger bite, her eyes refusing to detach themselves from his lips. Unprofessional and inappropriate. The orphan and the bodyguard. She takes a bite of her own sandwich, shoving the thought to the back of her mind and replacing it with the heavenly taste of gooey cheese, melted butter, and greasy bacon. She doesn’t have to dissect the thoughts of her delicious food like she would have to the other ones. Cheese doesn’t require a checklist about whether or not her grief quota is up to code. Clearly it’s not— clearly she’s just sick in the head. She takes another bite.

The two eat in silence for a couple minutes, the tension in the room melting for the first time since she introduced herself. Thank gods for cheese.

After a few more moments Bucky sets his plate down, turning back to the window. At first she thinks she is hearing things— like her mind is now also playing tricks on her as well as making her feel like a terrible person— but then it registers and she has to fight back another inappropriate smile.

“You were right about the bacon.”

Maybe three days won’t be so bad.

____________

Tag List: @xhollycowx @remembered-license

#Bucky Barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky fic #bucky imagine #mcu fic #mcu imagine #marvel cinematic universe fic #marvel cinematic universe #Persephone's Symphony

153 notes · View notes

levi-ish · 3 years

Text

Little Talks | 2

Pairing: Bartender!Levi X Reader

Genre: [+18] Slice of life, drama, romance, fluff, smut

A/N: if you find any mistakes, its because most of the times i’m writing i’m wine drunk or high and watching some weird anime.

Warnings: Alcohol, cheating mentions, drugs, cussing

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Masterlist

“Fuck no, I’d rather eat shit and die” you slapped your hand on the counter and Jean let out a high-pitched laugh, bringing up another shot glass and the good tequila they held only for employees, earning a ‘woo’ from you.

“I’m just suggesting” he gave you your own glass and you both downed it at the same time, letting out the weirdest faces from the burning sensation going through your throat. “If he was a good fuck, why not go and have some hate sex?”

“What the fuck, Jean?!” You gave him a frown, pushing the shot glass forward and leaning on top of your arm, looking up to see your bartender getting hammered like you.

You liked those nights when you were one of the last ones remaining in the bar and Jean would drink with you till you both couldn’t remember your own names, and then flirt aimlessly while drinking some shitty margaritas. Sometimes he would let you mix the alcohol, and you would throw ice at each other.

“I’m just saying—” he grabbed the beer bottle beside him and gave it a sip, passing to you next. “—you told me he was an asshole, and hate sex is the best sex. So why not?!”

“He literally cheated on me!” You spat, shoving Jean’s shoulder while gulping down the remaining of the beer. “Fuck, open another one.”

“It’s all going on your tab, Kirstein” said the hoarse voice from the other side of the counter, attracting both of your eyes there.

Levi was cleaning the remaining dishes, drying the glasses as he adjusted his black apron and gave you another one of his expressionless stares. You had noticed he started to linger around since last week when you two shared a drink. He wasn’t that bad, he was actually kinda nice, you had to admit. Even though he had this dark aura, he was good company for your late evenings.

“Yea, yea, Captain Grumpy-Pants” Jean fanned his hand and grabbed another beer from the minifridge, opening it with his teeth.

“Jean!” You drunkenly leaned your upper body on the countertop, cheeks reddening from the newcomer heat you got from the alcohol.

The raven-haired man just rolled his eyes and disappeared into the back, leaving you two alone with your childish giggles and murmurs.

“I swear, the man is like my grandpa” the bartender said, gulping down the beer and passing it to you. “Why he has been taking late night shifts, I wouldn’t know.”

“What do you mean?” You downed your fair share, coughing a bit from the bitter cold taste.

“He would always leave before 10PM, the latest I’ve seen him around was midnight.” Jean burped and you pushed him jokingly. “I’d say he has a crush on you.”

“W-What?”

You felt your heart thump from the inside of your ears, blushing right away — but you would blame it on the alcohol.

“Nah, just fucking with you. The old man wouldn’t sleep with you, you’re nasty” you shoved him again, harder this time and he let out another laugh. “—besides, he has a stick too far up his own ass to get involved with other people.”

Levi came out from the back, now in his casual clothes, wearing a long-sleeved green shirt and black jeans, his apron folded on his arm as he walked to the counter to put away the now clean glasses. You saw him a few times before coming to work, but it would be just for a split second, so you never noticed how his clothes would hug the well-defined muscles. He didn’t seem like the type to be ripped, so you guessed he did a good job in hiding it.

“Hold up” the other bartender held a hand to his stomach, his eyes widening as his expression changed into a pained one. “Yup. Definitely going to puke.”

He rushed to the back, leaving only you and Levi on the counter. The soft country song played in the old jukebox as you laid on the counter once more, watching the shorter man as his hands worked on the clean glasses. You could see the veins that traced back to his arms as his fingers moved quickly, the image now stuck in your mind as you wondered how those palms would feel against your throat, how warm would his breath feel fanning on your face, how…

“You look like shit” he said, startling you to the point you almost fell off the stool. What the fuck?

“You don’t look so good either” you bit back now frowning at him.

Levi grabbed one of the glasses and filled it with tap water, putting it right in front of you. You stared at him, confused as he just let out a ‘tch’ and grabbed a handkerchief to dry his hands.

“Sober up.” He commanded, his tone now lower, making something stir inside your belly.

“I don’t feel like sobering up” you retorted, grabbing the glass anyways. “The night is young.”

“It’s 4AM” he rose a brow, staring at you once more. “The bar closed two hours ago.”

You rolled your eyes, gulping down to the last drop and laid your head between your crossed arms above the counter. “Jean and I are celebrating.”

“What exactly?”

“Another Friday!” You gave him a sloppy smile and let out a yawn, earning a concerned look.

The creaky door from the back room opened suddenly, and a stumbly Jean came into the bar, grogginess all over his face while Levi crossed his arms over his — dare you say, very muscly — chest.

“Well, that went bad” the taller man burped and leaned onto the counter like you were, letting out a defeated groan as he did.

“You’re such a lightweight” you joked, and the man groaned once more.

“Fuck off. I’ve been through a lot.”

Levi turned around suddenly, another disappointed ‘tch’ coming out of his mouth as he signaled the backdoor.

“C’mon. I’m taking you two home.”

You and Jean exchanged a look before bursting into laughter, leaving the poor man confused but not short of apathy on his face.

“Sorry shorty” Jean stood straight and put a finger under his chin, “you’re not my type.”

At that point, Levi was pretty much done with both of you as you laughed thoroughly. He slapped Jean’s shoulder and grabbed his wrist, walking to the other side of the counter and grabbing yours also and dragging your drunken bodies to the back entrance. You and the blonde boy were giggling under your breath, thinking the older man wouldn’t notice at all, and he just pretended not to, too tired to deal with that shit.

“Are we having a threesome?!” Jean tripped on his feet, following the other man as he coughed a bit. “Threesome! Threesome! Threesome!”

“Hey! I don’t wanna fuck Jean!” You threw him a disgusted gaze as you tried to keep your distance.

“You just wanna fuck shorty. He’s boooring.”

You pushed Jean and laughed as he stumbled again, almost falling this time.

Levi rolled his eyes as he dragged you two out of the bar, turning off the lights and locking the door behind you, now letting go of your wrists. You looked around to find the streets empty and the starry sky above you. Everything was quiet, the way you enjoyed your nights, and only two cars were parked, a black BMW and a white sedan you recognized as Jean’s from the times he took you home when you were too drunk. So the other one must’ve belonged to Levi.

“Yo, Y/N, I think it’s not a threesome anymore” Jean leaned in and tried to whisper, but his voice was high enough for Levi to hear “, I’m pretty sure we are getting kidnapped.”

“Shut up, Jean” you rolled eyes at him as you watched the raven-haired man unlock the car and shoved the other one in.

You were standing on his side when he gave you a slight gaze, signaling the inside of the car as you nodded, putting your hand on the top of the door to steady yourself, but as you put one foot inside, your hand slipped, and you were going for a face-in fall.

It was going to be your most disgraceful moment. You had awful times when you fell while drunk — like that one time when you fell from a bridge, diving into the dirty lake near Mikasa’s house and everyone took pictures, making it the icon of your groupchat for months before changing into a picture of Sasha sleeping while hugging a bag of potatoes — but this time, you were going to fall in front of someone you actually fancied, the first person you showed any kind of interest since the fiasco with your ex. It had been almost two months.

A pair of strong hands held your shoulders as your own grabbed the collar of his shirt for stability, holding onto his chest for dear life. You could feel the warmth of his body against your cold fingertips, now daring to look up to find his eyes staring right into your soul. His mouth was slightly parted, just enough for you to fawn over and have a thousand scenarios going through your mind.

Oh, how you wanted him to just cup your face and close the gap…

Wait, what are you thinking?

A loud snore came from the car, bringing your attention to a sleeping Jean who was splayed all over the backseat, a trail of drool falling off his lips as his feet twitched.

Levi straightened you in place, clearing his throat as he offered you one hand.

“Careful” he whispered as you kept on staring, only to shake your head, dropping out of the state of trance you found yourself in.

You looked down as the man helped you inside, not even daring to meet his gaze after that moment, still feeling your cheeks hotter than your pounding heart. Levi’s hands adjusted the seatbelt around your body, and you tried not to think too much about it as you kept looking forward.

“Don’t throw up” he ordered and you groaned, rolling your eyes as he closed the door.

Watching as the man turned around, you waited until he sat inside and started the car, now feeling dizzier than before to just lean your head on the window, watching as the sky slowly turned into orange, signaling the morning was just around the corner. Suddenly, your lids felt heavier than stone and you started to doze off, the sky now turning black as you closed your eyes. Just for a second.

You weren’t aware, but Levi kept his gaze on you from the corner of his eye, feeling too intrusive to stare any longer, but too weak to look away. To the naked eye, it was impossible to see, but the sides of his lips curled upwards in a small — almost inexistent — smile.

#levi x reader #levi ackerman #levi #levi smut #jean kirschstein #jean #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #hange zoë #erwin smith #bartender levi #hmmm threesomes

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ynisamenace · 3 years

Text

Party For One

Warnings: sub! Aone being a flustered mess, confident dom! Reader, nsfw kinda (grinding, not pg-13 kissing), mention of drugs and alcohol, college au! Aone.

Word count: 2.3k

a/n: ok guys this is my first fanfic so apologies if it’s not too good or if the ending is too rushed. Constructive criticism is always welcome and pls don’t forget to like and/or reblog. Thank you!

Aone was not much of a party goer. Although his friends were more outgoing, he in fact was not. He was more of a homebody, mostly leaving his shared apartment with Kenji for school, to get more ramen from the corner shop near his uni or practice with his newly-formed volleyball team; courtesy of his newly-formed friend, Kanji. Then proceeding to come home to shower, nap, wake up, struggle with his homework and then sleep till the next day. He was about to start the fourth activity of his daily routine when the sound of the doorbell rang through the apartment.

Sighing, he left his spot at the kitchen island to open the front door, then trying to close it once Kanji’s face appeared behind it.

“Woah woah if you wanted some alone time, you should’ve just said that”, the cat-faced friend exclaimed, just barely slipping through the crack in the door. Face adorned with brown freckles and a smile seemingly super glued to his face, he looked like the poster boy of golden retriever boys, “Wouldn’t matter anyway since I’m still dragging you to Sugawara’s tonight.”

Ah yes, Suga’s party, the one Aone was being forced to go to as a favour for his new friend. The white haired boy uttered a grunt of disapproval as Kanji plopped down onto his couch.

“I’m telling you man, when girls see us walking in together with my beauty and your scowl-,” he smirked while giving Aone a once over, “-they’ll come flocking like parakeets.” Aone ignored his new friend’s rambling and was about to go back to his homework when his phone buzzed. Picking it up and looking at his crush’s name made him do a double take before realizing it was from his class groupchat.

Y/n❤: Someone better come pick me up or else I’m dumping the mary jane😤

Sugawara: You live on campus, how did you sneak it in?

Y/n❤: Come pick me up and I’ll tell you

Bsf/n: I can see I’m gonna be on y/n duty tonight. I’ll come get you in 5

Y/n❤: Girl I’ll literally marry you don’t play with me

-5 minutes later-

Y/n❤: Psa to everyone in this groupchat, bsf/n and I are married now

Bsf/n: As long as you do my makeup for the party lol

Y/n❤: Deal

A slightly dejected sigh left the tall boy’s lips, wishing it was him y/n would joke about marrying to the- wait party?? The realization that y/n was going to the same party as him made heart race with anticipation and although he never talked to her in any of the classes they shared, Aone developed a massive crush on y/n just by seeing the way she interacts with others as well as her personality. Her presence when she walks into a room, beautiful coily/kinky hair either flowing or in a different ‘protective style’ (which Aone ended up googling the meaning to) and her face adorned with a smile so bright, he could feel his ears getting hotter just by its look, it would be foolish to think that no other person in his uni or elsewhere had already snatched her up. Which is why Aone never felt the need to let her know about how much he was falling for her.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of his roommate’s door opening, revealing a clearly tipsy Kenji trying and failing to button up the last button on his silk shirt.

“Is anyone g-gonna help or what..” he slurred, stumbling into the living room, planting himself right in front of Aone who begrudgingly helped him with the last button. Satisfied, the intoxicated boy walks over to Kanji on the couch who’s currently scrolling through his instagram feed. He gives Kenji a once over before giving a nod of approval to his outfit. He turns to the tall, white haired boy, “Aone go change, the party starts in 10 and you know it’ll take us half an hour to get there!”, he exclaimed gesturing to Aone with his hands in a shooing manner. He didn’t understand what was wrong with his gray shirt and black sweatpants but went to his room to go change anyway, returning six minutes later sporting a green and white checkered shirt with dark blue jeans and black levis. The trio hurriedly leave their apartement, Kanji practically dragging both boys to his car before appointing Aone as the designated driver as the boy was the only one who had no intention to drink at the party.

The ride to the party took much more than half an hour as Aone was forced to drive while simultaneously trying to stop the two boys at the back from drinking any more of the pregame Kanji brought as well as preventing Kenji from messing with the aux cord. In the end, both boys settled on playing Ei8th mile on repeat the rest of the drive, both alternating between rapping DigDat and Aitch’s lines. Finally getting to the address Sugawara sent to the group, the trio hopped out of the car and went to knock on the door, opening to reveal the silver haired boy in all his glory wearing a burger king crown and a drunk smile.“You guys look li-hiccup-ke you had a fun drife here”, opening the door wider to reveal flashing red and purple strobe lights, living room filled with drunk and soon-to-be drunk college students and a hiphop song playing with a loud base that almost made Aone’s teeth clink. The two drunk boys wasted no time heading to the make shift bar in the kitchen, Aone following reluctantly behind feeling quite awkward in the party setting. Even worse, he was unable to spot y/n in the crowd making his heart drop lower into his stomach.

No no no no.

Even though Aone didn’t think y/n would like him the way he likes her, he was hoping he could at least use this party to make himself known to her, maybe forming a friendship with her first before professing his love. Dejectedly, he trudges to the bar, sulking next to his now very drunk friends who are far more interested with the designs on the kitchen counter.

“Dude it’s so swirly…how do they make it like that?” one of the boys asks.

“Bro it has to be like a top secret thing. Like in the dark web,” the other replied, his eyes widening as his pupils are blown out more.

Not wanting to deal with their drunk conspiracies, Aone heads to the store room in search for some water after not seeing any laid out. Finding a bottle, he quickly gulps it down, faintly hearing the song in the living room change to one with a much deeper base. Leaving the store with his thirst finally quenched, he recognizes the song as Cold by Rico Nasty, her gravely voice echoing around the living room and drowning out some of the chatter which Aone was grateful for.

Ridin’ in a Maserati

Like Scotty I’m with two hotties

I ain’t just walk in the party-

“I brought the drugs to the partyyyy”, a voice which made Aone’s heart beat faster screamed, Y/n bursting through the front door with a medium sized pack of marijuana and a tray of what he assumes are pot brownies as the crownd cheered at her arrival. Her eyes wide with excitement, hair in cute little bantu knots (which Aone noted is now probably his favourite hairstyle on her), and dazzling smile still glued to her face. Making a bee line to the kitchen to drop the stuff she was holding, she hugged and greeted the people closest to her, making Aone regret not standing closer to the front door before realizing she was making her way straight to him.“Hi Polar Bear!” her scent of f/p enveloping him as she hugged his stomach, hair right next to nose, making the boy short-circuit. Y/n is hugging me. Me. Hugging. She smells so good. I should probably hug her back. But what if that’s weird. Hugging me. I’m gonna marry her. I’m gonna throw u-

“Takanobu woohoo you good?” she whispered in neck, drawing him out of his daydream, while at the same time making blood rush to his lower region. His eyes widen as he turns to see her staring right at him, inches apart and eyes questioning.

“I-I’m doing well y/n, um you uh look great tonight”, he managed to blurt out, his compliment making her lips curve into that signature smile. He unconsciously let out a low groan as he felt his jeans tighten even more as his mind raced a mile a minute, envisioning her on top of him, smile turning into a smirk as she runs her hands over his body making him squirm. His neck, his nipples, his happy trail, his-

Once again brought out of his daydream, he looked around to see y/n already gone and dancing in the living room, her presence making her look ethereal in the flashing lights. Smiling slightly, Aone deciding to stop before his imagination made him cream in his pants, decided to go look for his friends spotting both of them laying near a potted plant in the hallway caressing the leaves and muttering under their breaths. He discreetly goes back to the store, getting two bottles of water and placing them on either side of his friends, knowing they’ll be shocked at it ‘appearing’.

Sighing tiredly, he briefly thinks of just driving back to his apartment having already seen his crush and hugged her, but decided against it not wanting to feel guilty for abandoning his intoxicated friends. He was about to go to the backyard looking for some fresh air before he heard his name being said in the crowd. Turning around too quickly he bumped into someone, gripping their waist and letting their scent envelop him before he caught a glimpse of their hair.

Yes yes God yes

“Nobu I’m so sorry, I was trying to get your attention but you didn’t turn around!” y/n exclaimed, gripping his shirt making the boy realize his grip on her waist was tightening significantly. He quickly tried to let go but y/n wasn’t having any of it and planted his large palm on her backside, squeezing a little. Aone’s face had never been as red as it is now from that simple action. Clearing his throat, he gives a tentative squeeze to gauge her reaction and seeing the smirk on her face as her pupils darken. She finally releases her grip on his hand and turns to the dance floor, Aone follow behind.

As they reach the dance floor, afrobeats fill the air as joro by wizkid which Aone knew was one of y/n’s favourite songs) plays turning the energy of the party to a slower tempo. Y/n turns to the tall boy, once more putting his hands on her waist, before pulling him closer to her, their bodies now pressed against eachother.

Aone can feel her grinding on his pants and begs to any God who’ll listen to please not let him pop a boner right now. Her mouth comes closer to his ear and he can feel her breath making shivers run down his spine. “I could feel it you know…” she whispers as his eyes widen, embarrassment from though him as he realizes she felt the first boner he popped while hugging her in the kitchen “…didn’t peg you as the type. What a pervert you are Nobu.”

That small gesture almost made Aone cream in his pants. Almost. If not for the overwhelming shame he would feel if someone saw him, his dick was already as hard as can be. A murmur left Aone’s lips and y/n has to strain her neck to hear him over the sound of the music flowing through the house.

“What was that Nobu?”

“P-plea-ase,” he whispers, ears a bright shade of red as y/n smirks looking him in the eye to see his pupils blown out, clouded with lust and feeling his member poking her in the thigh.

“Please what Nobu?” their lips almost touching.

“..Please kiss me”

“That’s all you had to say ya damn polar bear”, finally pressing her lips on his and making the butterflies in his stomach turn into fireworks. He really couldn’t believe it. His head felt like it was about to burst from all the blood that rushed into it. Her lips felt so much better, so much better than his imagination. Her hands sliding up to his neck and slipping into the hair on the nape of his neck, he uttered a low groan giving access to y/n to slip her tongue onto his. Aone could feel his precum dampening his briefs and hoped that a dark spot wouldn’t be visible by the end of the night. She tried to break the kiss, his head leaning closer not letting her go until she tugged hard on his nape hair forcefully, a string of saliva still connecting them.

“What a needy boy”, she smirked, letting go of him to swipe at the corner of his lips. “Why didn’t I come speak to you earlier?”, he didn’t care because for him, this really was worth the wait.

Aone was not much of a party goer, but he’d have to thank his friends in the morning for forcing him to go to this one.

Tags: @itzgabz22

#aone x reader #dom!reader #haikyuuxblackreader!#aone x y/n #haikyuu!!#blackreader!#sub!aone #ceowrites

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monstersandmaw · 3 years

Text

Male vampire x male character - Part Two (nsfw) (Halloween ‘surprise’ Patreon story).

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

I'm really pleased that you and my Patrons enjoyed the first part, and that folks were keen for more. I’ve had more interaction with this post on Patreon than many of the others, which is surprising given how mlm stories are usually much less in demand than m/f ones. Thanks for that!

Anyway, here's more of our favourite oblivious dork Alec and his obviously-not-a-vampire crush... Part Three is on the way too (tomorrow), despite this having been planned as a quick porn-without-plot one-shot, as it were. Oh well?!

Hope you enjoy.

Part One

After his initial - admittedly strange - meetings with Sebastien, Alec didn’t see him on campus at all for the rest of the week, and he wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that. Yes, the guy had been a bit of a pompous arsehole in the library, but he’d made up for it by coming to the art room and apologising, engaging him in conversation — even if that conversation had been slightly… odd? — and being so god-damn-fucking beautiful too.

He overheard his students gossiping about ‘Dr. Dulac’ earlier that afternoon while they all carved the pumpkins he’d bought for them at the local supermarket, and it seemed that the general consensus was that Sebastien was single, unfailingly polite (even in the face of Janette Hilton, the English Department’s longest-serving and least sympathetic lecturers), hotter than any celebrity you cared to name, and a specialist in the poets of the First World War like Sassoon and Brooke, among other more esoteric interests.

After an hour of clock-watching in his tiny little office in the Art Department on Friday, he abandoned all hope of concentrating on his last few bits of admin, and shut down his laptop. After clearing up yet more pumpkin seeds that he’d somehow missed on the last two sweeps he’d done of the studio, he stepped outside, never wanting to see another bloody thing again. Too bad he had a whole bloody cardboard box of them waiting to go into the boot of Kay’s car for her party that night. Still, he was almost sinfully proud of the carvings he’d done on them. One was decorated the whole way around with the foliate style engravings usually reserved for the steel on antique guns, with different depths to create the highlights and shadows, and another particularly spherical one had been cut away in squares to resemble the Death Star.

The October air outside bit into his lungs as he drew a deep breath - the spicy, fragrantly damp scents of autumn filling his nose - and his eye was drawn to the twinkling lights of the little coffee cart that still lingered in the park, selling tea, coffee, and hot chocolate to chilly students leaving the university campus for the night. With a black coffee for himself in one hand, he made his way to the Engineering Department, warily holding another frothy concoction in his other. It was apparently called a ‘London fog’ and it smelled of earl grey tea and lavender. He thought it sounded (and smelled) disgusting, but Kay perked right up when he deposited it on her desk five minutes later.

“Bless you, Alec Twayblade,” she grinned, taking the plastic lid off and inhaling it like it was the best thing she’d ever smelled. “Oh my god. How can you not like this?” she said after taking a huge gulp and moaning obscenely.

Alec didn’t bother to reply, his eye-roll speaking volumes anyway. They’d had this discussion so many times that they were both probably playing it out silently in their heads right that second. When Kay glanced up and saw that he certainly was, she snorted and grinned. “I love you, Alec,” she laughed. “You’re still coming tonight?”

“Against my better judgement,” he growled, leaning his weight on her desk and folding his arms across his battered, blue cable knit sweater. He had a huge daub of yellow paint on one elbow from that morning, and a small burn hole in the bottom from a failed attempt at pyrography a few years ago. It was the most comfortable jumper he owned, and he would probably wear it until it unravelled around him.

“You’re still not going to wear a costume, are you?” she added as she stood, pouting.

He shook his head. “I draw the line at that.”

“But you’d be so good making one!” she countered. “You helped me with that bat costume when we were at high school… Don’t you remember how fucking awesome it was?”

“I do,” he chuckled. “But I’m not going to wear one myself.”

She sighed, shoulders slumping. “Too much attention, huh?” she said softly. “Well, you know you’ll stand out more if you’re not wearing one tonight…?”

He shrugged. Honestly, he just couldn’t be bothered to dress up. Halloween had rather lost its shine for him anyway. “Not if I hide in the kitchen all night and make too-strong cocktails for everyone,” he said, flashing her his most roguish grin. “Plus, I spent much of today carving pumpkins with nattering eighteen year olds who are far too old to be carving pumpkins on academic time, but —”

“— you’re an awesome teacher who understands the need to let off some steam on the holidays,” she interjected. “Plus, it’s good practice anyway… working with a new medium…”

He allowed his lips to pinch upwards into a tiny smirk and let her have that one. “It’s nice to see them having fun,” was all he said.

An hour or so later, just as he arranged the last of the pumpkins down the garden path of Kay's Victorian semi-detached house, a voice murmured from behind him, “I can see the hand of a master at work in these carvings.”

Not having heard anyone approaching, Alec jumped, cursed, and dropped the pumpkin - thankfully with the candle still unlit. It rolled in a semicircle until a black boot gently stopped it, and a familiar face dipped into view as the owner of the boot bent to pick it up. To his surprise, it was Sebastien, and he was in costume. Probably anyway. Hopefully? Fuck. Alec’s brain stalled at the sight of him.

His eyes raked up Sebastien’s body and his jaw went quite literally slack.

The slender man was wearing thigh-high boots and leather pants so tight they had to have been spray-painted on, into which was tucked a loose, old-fashioned, white shirt with a good bit of flounce at the collar. “Holy shit,” he whispered, and Sebastien chuckled softly, a low, amused sound in the back of his throat.

“You recognise the costume?” he asked, seeming innocently amused. The long, dark coat, accented with gold brocade and bright gold buttons, opened briefly in a soft gust of wind that made the lit pumpkins flicker and lifted his loose, silver-white hair back for a breath as well.

“I…” he swallowed. “Uh, you’re Alucard,” he croaked. “From the Castlevania games…” A wry incline of Sebastien’s head told him he was correct, and then Alec blurted stupidly, “Shouldn’t you be shirtless though?”

Sebastien’s smile grew from pleased to deeply amused, his eyes glittering, and it was only then that Alec noticed the contacts burning a bright gold in his eyes and, as his lips peeled back and Sebastien began to laugh, he saw long, tapering, white canines befitting a vampire costume. “It’s a little cold for that, don’t you think?” Sebastien asked, still laughing quietly as Alec flushed crimson.

“Sorry,” he blurted. “I know. I just… forget it.”

“Where do you want it?” Sebastien asked, and Alec’s poor brain went blank.

“What?”

“The pumpkin,” Sebastien deadpanned and Alec’s poor, blank brain melted out of his ears with embarrassment.

“Uh… there’s fine,” he said, pointing at the little wrought-iron garden gate.

Sebastien placed the pumpkin down on the flagstone path so that the carved graveyard scene glimmered and flickered with appropriate spookiness, visible to anyone approaching along the quiet, suburban street. Enormous London plane trees stood sentry every few paces, heaving up the tarmac pavement with their roots, like a sleeper shifting a blanket with a restless turn, and sheltering the cars snuggled and parked beneath them. A carpet of leaves clung to the gutter in a long, golden line, melting into nothing in places in the glittering puddles. It would have been beautiful, had Alec not been faced with quite literally the most beautiful thing in the entire universe.

“Am I early then?” Sebastien asked, dusting off his palms and turning back to face Alec, who had barely managed to make his legs work long enough to stand up straight again.

He shook his head. “No. Henry’s inside already,” he said, running his fingers through his scruffy black hair. “With Rachel and Alison. I just forgot to put the pumpkins out earlier.”

“No costume?”

With a roll of his eyes, he shook his head. “Nope.”

“Too bad,” Sebastien said, eyeing the front door. The contacts were really creepy, shifting in the light that spilled down the stairs as the front door suddenly opened and Kay stepped out before he could worry that he’d been the only one to dress up. He could probably brush it off anyway, Alec supposed, and tried not to envy the man’s quiet confidence.

Silhouetted starkly against the hall light, with her high ‘Dracula’ collar on prominent display, Kay shrieked with glee and clapped her hands when she saw Sebastien. Apparently the two of them had been getting along rather well, while Alec had sequestered himself away in the Art Department like an ascetic.

“Bastien! You look amazing oh my god!” she blurted, rushing forwards a step or two before halting abruptly. “Wait, does that make me your father for the evening?” she cackled. “Wow, your teeth are really good! Mine wouldn't stay in for more than a few minutes…”

Sebastien’s gold eyes flickered sideways to Alec but it happened so briefly that he almost missed it. “Custom made a long time ago,” was all he said. “Shall we go inside? It’s freezing out here.”

“Yes, of course, come on in,” she said, waving them all inside, Sebastien first. As Alec passed her last, she slapped him hard on the backside in rebuke and hissed, “Told you you should have worn a costume! You look like a big dumbo!”

“No different from any other night,” he quipped back, and she growled something indistinct at him. Perhaps a werewolf costume would have suited her better. “You could have told me you’d invited Dulac…”

“Why?” she retorted. “So you could suddenly decide that an evening moping alone with your PS4 playing Rocket League with strangers was more appealing? No fucking chance. Get inside. Sebastien’s right; I’m freezing my tits off.”

The distant murmur of voices in the living room made him veer off instinctively into the kitchen, and while they began to watch some old Hammer horror film, he made drinks. That, at least, he was good at.

Entering a while later, he found that Sebastien was seated on the sofa beside Henry, who wore an enormously fluffy wolfman costume - mostly a repurposed Chewbacca onesie with a latex wolf mask. He’d pushed the mask up onto his head in order to eat the Halloween themed nibbles on the coffee table, and the effect rendered him entirely ridiculous. Another reason not to wear a costume: it’s impractical, and gets in the way, and washing ketchup out of matted fake fur is a nightmare. Alison and Rachel sat practically in each other’s laps, one a zombie and the other a ghost, both squeezed into one groaning old armchair.

After half an hour of Christopher Lee’s admittedly creepy Dracula, Alec slid from his seat at the periphery, and ducked out again into the kitchen. Straightening from fishing a beer from the back of the fridge, he heard the soft click of the door and turned to find Sebastien standing there.

“Get bored with late 1950’s horror too?” Alec asked. “Beer?”

Sebastien inclined his head in a way that said he wasn’t a beer drinker and held up his almost-empty wineglass as an excuse as he moved a little closer. “If you don’t like cheesy horror films, and you don’t seem to like Halloween either, I wonder why you came at all tonight?”

“For Kay,” he said, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. “She loves this shit.”

At that, Sebastien paused, a delicate smile on his face. In the soft glow of the under-cupboard lighting, his tanned skin seemed to shimmer, and Alec wondered fleetingly if he’d put some kind of glittery body powder on. Next, he wondered what on earth Sebastien was doing in here with him, looking at him like that.

“You are a good friend,” Sebastien said quietly, seeming perhaps a little sad around the edges.

“She’s done more than her fair share of looking after me,” Alec sighed knowingly. “Not that I’m doing it because I owe her,” he added, twisting the cap off the bottle and leaning back against the counter to drink deeply from it. As the malty froth washed over his tongue, he felt eyes on him and looked over at the other man.

Sebastien tilted his head slightly to the side, the false golden light in his eyes making him look like a cat in the dark. “You said she was trying to set you up with someone…”

Alec snorted, nearly shooting beer out of his nose. “Yeah. Well, she seems to think a good fuck will sort my mood out.”

“But you think otherwise?”

“You offering?” he asked bitterly, taking another swig and feeling uncharacteristically bold, though absolutely not expecting the answer he got.

“Perhaps.”

His eyebrows shot up and this time he did cough a little. “You can’t be serious.”

“You think someone who looks like me is entirely straight?” he asked with a wry smile, and Alec had to hand it to him. Not many men he knew could pull of long, luscious, white-blond hair like that, or would have the confidence to wear fucking thigh-high boots and whisper-tight leather pants…

“Still… you don’t really know me… That’s all I meant…”

“Doesn't mean one couldn’t engage in — how did you call it? — ‘a good fuck’. Not that I’m averse to getting to know you better, before or after.”

Alec swallowed another enormous gulp of frothing beer and blinked. “You’re serious?”

With a melodramatic smile that revealed his vampire teeth clearly, ‘Alucard’ purred, “Deadly.”

And Alec burst out laughing. The spell was shattered and the two men shared the remnants of their drinks and their laughter together before Alec sighed. “Your place or mine?”

At that, Sebastien seemed to falter, as if he hadn’t thought through to that point. After a moment’s hesitation, he said, “I assume yours would be alright?”

Alec shrugged. “Sure, if you don’t mind smacking your head on the ceiling and being able to touch two opposite walls at the same time…”

Sebastien’s lips hitched into another wry smile. “I’ve fucked in tighter spaces, I’m sure.”

“You know what?” Alec said as he rinsed out the beer bottle at the sink and half-turned to look at the other man over his shoulder. “You’re absolutely not what I expected.”

“Nor were you,” he shot back, still smirking. “And it’s been a while since I was assaulted by someone in a library.”

“Bring back happy memories, did it?” he snorted.

“Not exactly,” Sebastien murmured, and Alec realised he hadn’t actually been joking. “But I must confess that — despite my behaviour — I was pleasantly surprised by the sight of you when you rounded that bookshelf…”

Turning, Alec approached him cautiously. If he was genuinely serious about his proposal, Alec would find out now. “Pleased enough to seek me out afterwards…” he said, raising his eyebrows. He couldn’t do that ‘one brow at a time’ thing that Sebastien could, but it seemed to get his tone across all the same.

Unusually for Alec, Sebastien had an inch or two on him in height, and as Alec paused in front of him, close enough to catch the faintest hint of a woody cologne, the man angled his face just perfectly for the light to dance along his high cheekbones. Fuck, he was exquisite. The urge to kiss him rose in Alec; to feel his lips against his own, to have those elegant hands scrunch his hair…

As if reading his mind, Sebastien slowly, carefully, raised his right hand and brought his index finger to Alec’s chin, tilting it upwards just a fraction with the lightest pressure. The intensity in his eyes was almost too much, and it left Alec breathless. Again. Panting slightly, he parted his lips and then swallowed thickly.

Sebastien’s eyes darted instantly to the motion of his throat and for a second, Alec could have sworn he saw a vibrant red light reflected in his eyes. Sensing his moment of hesitation, of tension, Sebastian frowned. “What?”

“Nothing,” Alec breathed. “I thought your eyes went red but it must have been a car on the street outside or something.”

“Indeed,” he murmured, but then blinked rapidly. “Do you still wish to continue this?”

“Yes,” he whispered. Don't stop now. His whole body was thrumming in a way it hadn’t ever before with casual encounters. He felt alive for the first time in months.

Sebastien stepped back, turning his face away a little more. “Should we make our excuses…?”

Alec shook his head. “Nah, Kay will know what’s going on anyway, and I don’t want to face her smug looks until tomorrow at the least.”

With a softly amused chuckle, Sebastien stepped back and allowed Alec to leave the room first. The hair on the back of his neck prickled as the other man followed behind, but he didn't turn around or look at him until they were outside on the main street.

“It’s a bit of a walk…” Alec said, only realising then how long the walk would be. “I’m way over on the other side of town by the station…”

The continuing intensity of Sebastien’s scrutiny was beginning to shift from a turn-on to just marginally unnerving, but he told himself that an esteemed professor at one of the country’s finest universities, with more letters after his name than anyone his age had a right to possess, was unlikely to be truly dangerous for a one-night stand… right? There was something about the way he stared at Alec — an unmistakable hunger in his eyes — that made his skin prickle and his heartbeat jump instinctively. Like a deer before the gaze of a tiger, he was entranced.

Unexpectedly, Sebastien’s easy stride slowed at the brick gateway to a small, gravel park that sat between an old church and a chemist, the latter closed at this time of night. “May I kiss you?” he breathed, still gazing at him unblinkingly, as though Alec were the pretty one in this equation, not him.

Alec couldn’t help grinning. The way Sebastien’s eyes bored into him then drove all thought of threat and fear from his mind, and he nodded.

The man’s hands were chilly from the night air, but the moment they cupped his jaw and drew Alec toward him, he forgot about that. He forgot about everything at the meeting of their lips. Sebastien began tentatively, merely brushing their lips together, but when his golden eyes fluttered closed, he deepened the gesture, tongue just begging entrance, teasing him before withdrawing, retreating and returning.

Searing want shot down Alec’s spine and he arched into Sebastien’s taller body, hips seeking contact through his jeans. He moaned, deep and guttural, and it seemed to awaken something in Sebastien, because the man grabbed hold of the back of Alec’s hair and pulled his head slightly to one side to begin to kiss along his jawline, down to wards his neck. For a heartbeat, Sebastien froze there, nose pressed to his rabbiting pulse point, his teeth just grazing skin, before he exhaled harshly and stepped back. “We shouldn’t get carried away,” was all he whispered, stepping slightly out of Alec’s dazed field of view. “My place is nearer though.”

“Ok,” Alec said, still reeling. “Sure.”

When they reached the apartment building, his steps faltered in amazement. “You live… here?”

A slight flush seemed to warm Sebastien’s cheeks as he stepped up to the main doorway, only to have it opened from the other side by a man in livery. “Good evening, Monsieur Dulac,” said the friendly doorman instantly.

“Good evening,” he replied. “This is my friend, Alec Twayblade.”

It was impossible for the doorman not to realise that his ‘friend, Alec Twayblade’ was going to be a little more than that for the night, but he never let a flicker of judgement pass across his face. From the concierge desk - Sebastien’s building had a fucking concierge desk too - another man looked up and wished them both a good evening as they headed for the lifts.

“Does the English department also sell diamonds or drugs or something? How the fuck can you afford a place like this on a lecturer’s salary?” but even as he said it and the doors closed with a soft chime, he realised the truth of it. Sebastien’s aristocratic features and bearing were not merely a persona. They were truth. He stared up at him while Sebastien turned a key in the lift panel.

“Are you secretly royalty or something?” he whispered, only half joking.

The man shot him an amused look and shook his head, silk-white hair whispering against the rougher wool of his costume coat. “No, of course not, but I do have some inherited wealth.”

Some? “So you don’t actually have to work at the university at all then?”

He made a so-so motion of his head and said, “No, not really, but I genuinely enjoy teaching.”

“Your students certainly seem to enjoy you…”

“You don’t enjoy teaching?” he asked as the numbers on the dial climbed and climbed.

Please don’t say you live in the fucking penthouse too, Alec thought, already suspecting it might be true from the whole ‘special access key’. He glanced at the number pad and saw that the button labelled ‘PH’ was illuminated. Fuck. “Most days I enjoy it,” he admitted. “But I kind of fell into it a while back and just sort of…” he shrugged, “Stuck with it.”

Sebastien asked no more, and the lift finally stopped on the top floor. The doors drew back to reveal an apartment beyond that Alec could only gawp at. It was like something from the set of an Architectural Digest photo shoot. Nothing was out of place in the hardwood floor paradise, with clean, crisp lines and white marble counter tops in the kitchen off to his left, while a comfortable, and yet still clinically modern, sitting area sat to their right. Deep, fluffy rugs dotted that part of the penthouse, and a wide balcony stretched out over the city beyond, complete with a little table and chairs for warmer evenings.

“This place is incredible,” Alec breathed, the reason for his even being here completely forgotten.

Clearly sensing that, Sebastien smiled bashfully and said, “Would you like something to drink?”

Alec cleared his throat and hoped he wasn’t going to be faced with a choice between very expensive wines that he’d never heard of. “Sure… thanks.”

“White, red, beer, or whisky?” he asked, walking towards the kitchen and dumping his ‘Alucard’ coat over the back of a white sofa as he went. Alec’s mouth went dry as he watched the point where his narrow hips met the flowing material of the white shirt. Dear god, an arse like that shouldn’t be… well, it just shouldn’t be. And yet there it was. Clad in leather and looking positively delectable. “Or a soft drink?” he added when Alec remained silent.

Aware of where his gaze had landed, Sebastien halted and looked back over his shoulder, long, loose, naturally straight hair already losing the curls that had been worked into it for the Alucard costume. Definitely not straight, if he owned hair curlers.

“Uh…” Alec said, unsure what the question had even been now.

“I’m going to pour myself a whisky, if that helps…?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Sebastien smiled, looking almost endeared by Alec’s inept stuttering. Surely he couldn’t be unused to such a reaction? “Make yourself at home then.”

With a smoky, peat-tinged whisky in a wide, heavy-bottomed tumbler set on his glass coffee table, Alec watched Sebastien turn the gas fire on, and, to his surprise, he came to a halt directly in front of him. Setting his own whisky down on the table with a deliberate, and yet delicate, clunk, Sebastien turned back to him and raked his eyes down Alec’s body in a way that made him flush hot all over. His cock twitched with interest and he tried not to preen under that gaze.

Sebastien’s eyes and teeth were back to normal now, with no hint of the golden contacts or the vampire fangs, and Alec fleetingly assumed that he must have removed them at some point between getting the whisky and appearing in front of him looking like he was about to ravish him. Oh dear god, please let him be about to ravish me, he thought with a big, dumb grin spreading across his face.

Seeing his reaction, Sebastien reached down and knelt facing him on the sofa, running his palm over the already-growing bulge in Alec’s jeans. Alec let out a deep grunt and rocked his hips up into the contact, throwing his head back against the soft, open weave of the white fabric. “Oh fuck,” he hissed.

Sebastien’s fingers found the button of his jeans and deftly undid it, but he paused. “May I?” he asked, and Alec found himself nodding before he’d even worked out what Sebastien wanted.

He found out a moment later, when his jeans were around his ankles and Sebastien was kneeling on the floor between his knees and licking a long stripe up the length of his rapidly hardening cock.

“Oh god,” he panted as the wet heat of Sebastien’s mouth engulfed half of his length and then drew back to leave his wet tip exposed to the slight chill of the apartment air. The contrast stole his breath for a heartbeat, but Sebastien returned his attentions to his cock, gently sucking and working him to full hardness in a matter of minutes.

Pleasure sparked through Alec’s whole body and he strained not to thrust back into Sebastien’s mouth, even as Sebastien took him right to the back of his throat, the tip of Alec’s cock nudging against the silky resistance of his throat.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” he chanted as Sebastien’s fingertips just teased and caressed the underside of his balls too, and Sebastien hollowed his cheeks and sucked a little more insistently. “Oh fuck…” Really fucking eloquent here, Alec, he thought vaguely, but one look down at the vision kneeling between his legs and sucking him off drove even that thought from his brain.

The suck and slide of Sebastien’s mouth was incredible, and while he had no idea quite how much time passed, it felt like mere seconds as the heat stoked in him until he could feel the orgasm threatening to crash through him. “I’m… I’m really close…” he gasped as Sebastien moaned against his cock, sending little vibrations thrumming through him and tipping him even closer. The sharp prick of his teeth every now and again was a perfect counterpoint to the slick heat of his mouth, and it was never enough to hurt. Normally Alec wasn’t one for including teeth in this, but with Sebastien, it felt perfect.

Sebastien pulled back just as Alec felt himself beginning to coil up, his lips swollen and glistening from the exertion of bringing him that close, and he smiled. He looked radiant, and Alec’s cock twitched enthusiastically in his hands as he let out a soft whimper. The air was cold and his tip beaded pre-come freely, which Sebastien thumbed away with a surprisingly tender gesture, only to watch as more pearled immediately at his slit. Using just the tip of his tongue, Sebastien lapped at it delicately and Alec’s whole body shuddered.

His thighs shook at the tiny, intense stimulation, with Sebastien's fingers gripping the base of his cock in a tight circle, and he gasped, chest heaving. It was too much and not enough, and as he found his perineum teased as well, he bellowed and trembled. He was half a heartbeat away from coming harder than he could ever remember coming in his life, and Sebastien wasn’t going to let him have it. He roared and ground his teeth, bucking his hips, which made Sebastien laugh softly.

“Alright,” he heard him murmur, before he swallowed him down to the back of his throat again, and Alec shattered with a yell.

When he finally blinked his eyes open, he found that Sebastien had risen and was sitting on the small sofa beside him, whisky in hand, staring openly at him. He didn’t look smug exactly, but there was a quiet satisfaction to his brown eyes that made Alec flush, at which Sebastien’s beautiful lips drew back into a smile. He noted again those slightly larger canines, but they were nothing like the vampire teeth he had worn earlier.

“What do you want?” Alec asked, voice hoarse. God, he sounded wrecked. Had he really shouted so hard he’d made his throat sore?

Sebastien’s dolorous, dark eyes crinkled slightly at the corners. “What do you want?”

“To watch you come,” he said immediately.

“And how would you like me to come?” Sebastien replied, sipping nonchalantly at the golden liquor as if the were discussing what Alec would like Sebastien to wear. As it was, his leather pants were constricting his obvious hard-on in a way that had to be painful for him, and his shirt was open at the neck to reveal delicate collarbones and a glimpse of his beautiful olive skinned chest.

He was an absolute vision. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he blurted in a whisper before he could stop himself, and to his surprise, Sebastien laughed. The sound was bright, delighted, and oddly self-conscious, as if he hadn’t been expecting a compliment like that. “Sorry,” he added, looking away. “Look… if you’ve got condoms, I’m… I’m good to… you know…”

“You want me to fuck you?” Sebastien asked, his gaze sharpening again.

“Yes?”

“’Yes?’ Or ‘yes’…?” Sebastien asked, seeking clarification.

“Yes. But I don't understand your question.”

“Look at me,” Sebastien said.

“Hard not to…” Alec quipped back, still feeling utterly wrung out.

“Most people assume I’m going to be the one taking it…”

Alec’s eyebrows rose as realisation settled. “Oh. And, what, I look like a top?”

Sebastien’s lips twitched. “Conventionally more so than I do, with your rugged looks and the rough shadow around your jaw…”

“So… do you want me to… you know…? Or…” Fuck, he felt like a teenager again, struggling to articulate himself and not get his sentences in a tangle while this breathtaking creature just sat there and watched him make an idiot out of himself.

“I very much want to fuck you,” Sebastien said at last. “If you’d like that as well.”

“Yes,” he said instantly.

Sebastien set down his glass and rose in a single, elegant motion, and then held his hand out to Alec.

His skin was still cool, especially next to Alec’s searing body, and his hold was steady as Alec heaved himself to his feet and allowed himself to be alternately tugged and kissed into the bedroom.

___

Part Three

Behold, plot has appeared to go with the Halloween porn I had planned. Alec’s family will come up in the next chapter.

___

I really hope you folks enjoyed this one! Don’t forget to let me know if you did enjoy it by leaving a like and/or reblogging it!

#vampire #male vampire #male vampire x human #exophilia #vampire boyfriend #male vampire x male human #male monster #mlm #mlm exophilia

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illyaana · 3 years

Text

4 to 10 - Sugawara Koushi

credits to @kvsagi for the Suga art!

Tags: Timeskip! Sick Suga x Doctor! Reader, No Specific Gender for Reader, Angst

Synopsis: Suga has been diagnosed with Cystic Fibrosis ever since he was 18, a few days after he graduated from high school. He works as an author in the hospital room he currently lives in. When he was 26, you entered the hospital as an official resident doctor and you were assigned to him.

In the beginning, it was just wheezing. After serving a ball to the ace, Suga just needed a few minutes to breathe air back into his system - nothing else.

It slowly became long nights of consistent coughing. It was just a dust allergy - nothing more. Almost all his family members had it - his allergic reactions were just stronger.

It became shorter hours of practice and any forms of exercise. His lungs were just weaker than the rest of the team's. It didn't mean that he was not as skilled as them - he just had to work more efficiently - more success, less time.

Then came the first lung infection.

Then the next.

It was no longer something he could just write off anymore.

Then came the tests; one sweat test and one genetic test.

The next time people saw him, he carried a bag connected to a tube that was in his nose.

He could still live his life normally - he just needed regular checkups. The only thing he needed to do was keep his distance, keep clean and not mess up.

That's all he needed to do, right?

The attacks got worse and worse.

His lungs became so fragile the slightest amount of dust or germ could kill him.

If he wanted to live, he needed to live in the hospital.

Until his clock stopped working, he needed to stay in the white walls of the Hospital of Tokyo forever - and that is what he did.

For the next 8 years of his life, he stayed in the hospital as a 'permanent resident' and lived peacefully.

His life consisted of college online, eating, studying, cleaning his lungs, talking with the other 'permanent residents' or just 'guests', playing with kids in the pediatric ward and sleep.

That was his life - and he didn't hate it.

He soon graduated from college and university and became an author - a well-known one, may I add.

He still talked to his friends from high school - Daichi and Asahi being common visitors with the occasional visit from Kageyama and Hinata.

This was his life until his life ended.

But all that changed when you came into the hospital for the first time.

Sugawara was never one to eye at the doctors or the nurses in the hospital - he believed that it was irrational and very wrong. Yet, you somehow changed his mind almost instantly.

He couldn't muster the bravery to even welcome you on your first day by himself, despite everyone who knew him literally pushing him to do so.

He begged all of the nurses to introduce him to you, but they all wanted him to do it by himself.

"Staring at our newest doctor, huh?" said Sugawara's doctor, Hizashi Yamada from behind him.

"You want me to introduce you to them?" He asked, smiling deviously.

Soon, Suga's doctor brought him to meet you, despite all of Suga's resistance to it.

"Hello, Y/N-sensei. Welcome to the Hospital of Tokyo. It is a pleasure to have someone so well-versed in our hospital as a permanent doctor," said Hizashi-sensei.

He placed his hand out, only for you to shake it. "No need for the praises, Yamada-sensei. The fact you recognized me is a privilege itself."

"This," Yamada-sensei pulled Suga forward, "Is Sugawara Koushi. He has been admitted to our hospital ever since he was eighteen."

Suga blushed furiously.

He wasn't ready to meet you up close so quickly. He wanted to admire you from afar for at least another two more days so that he could learn about your interests, but fate wasn't on his side this time.

Not to mention, you were a doctor, too! One of the younger ones, too... and hotter...

Suga awoke from his daze when he saw your gloved hand reach out to his to give him a handshake. "Pleasure to meet you, Sugawara-san. I believe you are an author? My sister loves your books!"

Suga was internally thanking Daichi for telling him to become an author.

Suga raised his hand to meet yours in a handshake. "The pleasure is all mine."

"As you both know, I am retiring this year," Yamada-sensei said, making both you and Suga face him.

"I've discussed with the board. Y/N-sensei, you'll be in charge of Suga starting tomorrow. I will send all the information about his condition soon," He ended off with a smile.

Wait - you were in charge of him?

Suga was shaking even more now.

It would no longer be Yamada-sensei seeing the uglier side of him but the very person he was developing a crush on.

"Fate works in mysterious ways, huh?" you said, breaking Suga's train of thought.

"I guess it was good I met you today then, Sugawara-san," you ended with a cheerful smile.

"I leave myself in your care then, Y/N-sensei," Suga said while bowing to you.

"Just call me Y/N. I think you're older than me, anyway," you said, laughing a bit. "I'll see you tomorrow!"

You walked towards the nurses that were calling you, leaving an extremely red Sugawara in the middle of the foyer.

The next day stood as a challenge for the silver-haired male.

He was going to act as good as he can so that your job could be as simple as it can be - no cheeky comments, no playful jokes.

Just being a boring, normal patient for the few hours you'd be in his room.

Well, that resolve almost failed immediately when you came in and begged for a conversation with him.

"It's too quiet for me to work properly, Sugawara-san. I know you think that keeping the room quiet helps, but the tension in the room is a bit too strong for me to work normally," you said, aching for some noise to come out of him.

But he didn't say anything - not even a noise.

"If you don't say anything in the next few minutes, I am going to begin talking a bit too much and trust me, you don't want that."

You turned to prepare the machine to remove the excess mucus in his lungs.

"You can call me Suga-san if you want," Suga whispered, scared to speak as loud as he usually does.

You chuckled and turned to face him. "I was going to call you Koushi-kun, whether you liked it or not."

"So, Koushi-kun," you started, "where and when does this author's life begin?"

He chuckled softly. "I was actually born in Miyagi. I was a replacement setter for the volleyball team in my school. Then again, I played a few times even when our main setter was there."

"What school?"

"Karasuno."

You opened your eyes in shock. "Wait - you were part of the Karasuno's volleyball team that went to nationals back then!"

He stared at your wonder-filled eyes and smiled. "Yeah, I was."

"So you know Hinata Shoyo and Kageyama Tobio? The Japan players?"

Pride swelled in him when he heard those two names. "Yeah, I do. I actually taught Hinata the basics."

"You've done well, my friend," you said, earning a laugh from the 26-year old.

And that small conversation began the long conversations you both had when you were doing long hours in the hospital.

After handling other patients, you'd often spend time with Koushi in his room with the pretence of 'I'm his doctor - it's my duty to be with him most of the time.'

But that was far from the truth, wasn't it?

You were developing feelings for your own patient.

How could you not fall for him?

Behind the beautiful exterior of his was a man of true beauty itself.

He was a hard worker - spent most of his time working on his new project.

He was kind - helped the nurses with managing the kids in the pediatric ward when they went for their lunch break.

He was the ideal man for anyone.

Time passed and you had been taking care of the former setter for the past two years.

He introduced you to his friends - Asahi, Daichi, Kageyama and Hinata, if you remember correctly - when they came over.

They soon became close friends of yours too - despite your fangirling over the Japan volleyball players. They often spent hours on end with Suga in his room.

All of you enjoyed the small talks you all had together and talked about the things happening in the outside world - be it a small injury or someone's wedding.

"Y/N-san, what about you? Are you in a relationship?" the orange-haired man asked, a small yet beaming smile on his lips.

You instantly blushed and looked at Sugawara. His eyes focused solely on you, taking you in.

"I've been single my whole life. I don't think I'd be getting into a relationship soon, too. The doctor's life doesn't really revolve around romance, despite all the TV shows and movies," you ended, earning snickers from almost everyone in the room.

"How about the rest of you? Is there a conquest of love happening in your lives?" you asked. Now my turn to grin.

Both Kageyama and Hinata stared at one another, faces beet red.

Koushi sighed. "Why can't you both just tell that you're a couple? We all knew ever since high school."

"How did you all know?" Kageyama shouted. You immediately shushed him, earning a small 'sorry' from him.

"You both aren't quiet in the storage room, you know?" Daichi said. Everyone except the couple began laughing hysterically.

"Damn, the money I'd get if I leaked this to the news," you jokingly said, teasing the two players.

When the clock showed 8pm, you pushed the four of the visitors out of Suga's room.

Their time had ended and they needed to head home.

Once they left, you felt a tug on your doctor's coat. You saw Koushi asking you back into the room, not ready for you to leave yet.

"Is everything okay?" You asked him, worried about his health.

"Do you feel like there isn't enough oxygen in your tank? I can always get you a replacement right now-" Koushi placed his finger on your lips.

"Please, just listen to what I have to say," he asked, his eyes begging you to listen to him.

You closed the door behind the two of you. He pulled you to sit beside him on his bed.

"I know I don't have much time left. I already had 10 years after diagnosis when the norm is 4," he said, chuckling.

You wanted to intervene - hell, the sentence was already prepared in your head - but you didn't. From what it looked like, he wanted you to just accept whatever he had to say.

"My drive to write is long gone - I can barely write a sentence I like anymore. I love playing with the kids, but I feel like I would just disturb them rather than entertaining them. I - I feel my life slipping away from my fingers, Y/N..." he said, tears forming around his eyes.

"Yet, when I see you walk along the halls of the hospital, I feel re-energized. I only met you two years ago, but I already am so dependant on you - and not just as a doctor. You are the only thing that makes me want to get up in the morning. You are the only thing I think of when I fall asleep. You are..." he gripped on your wrist, "the only thing I want right now."

"Koushi-kun..."

"I love you, Y/N. I didn't want you to leave today without knowing this. I love you so much - as a doctor and as a person."

You hugged the male in front of you, letting his tears fall on your jacket.

"I know you can't reciprocate my feelings, but I just needed you to know."

You gripped on his shirt.

This was the only man you've ever wanted, but you could never have him.

You held your tears back as you walked out of his room.

The next day was just a blur.

The mucus in his lungs built up at an extremely fast pace.

A severe infection formed in his lungs.

You rushed from your apartment to the hospital to conduct surgery as fast as you could.

Luck, however, wasn't on your side.

In the midst of the surgery, the electrocardiogram flatlined.

Sugawara Koushi was pronounced dead at 3:45 am at the Hospital of Tokyo on the 19th of December in the year 2022.

I hope you enjoyed the fanfic! As always, if you have ideas or tropes you'd like me to try, don't hesitate to leave a suggestion here! Thanks for all the reblogs and the likes too! <3 If you want to learn about Cystic Fibrosis, I watched this video and it helped me in understanding the science part of it~

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barjogaron · 3 years

Text

This is the continuation for my Elite AU Love & Deceit! The fanfiction can be read on ao3 here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32302612

And on Wattpad here:

Chapter Three:

Waiters and waitresses all dressed in white stand on every corner of the table. There are young men who play violins in the corners of the room, and women who tug on the strings of harps. I see my suite mates are already seated and I grab a random seat to sit in. From across from me I see Polo looking at me with hungry eyes, teasing me with a smirk. I ignore him and observe the rest of the dining hall.

Traditional European foods of all kind are already set up neatly on the white blanketed table on silver plates that are partnered with a drinking glasses and silverware. A heavenly chandelier hangs from above everything and Crisanto sits at the head of the long table. He is accompanied by other people dressed just as fancy as him. A young man with rosy cheeks and a friendly smirk, sitting next to another guy with beautiful caramel-colored skin and dark eyes. There is also a girl who sits beside them and they all bicker in a soft chatter, laughing and giggling in unison. There are a few other important looking people as well. I assume they are all Cristano's very opulent friends.

"Welcome, everyone. This meal is not only for my departure, but also in dedication to you, the new addition to the White Mansion." Crisanto smiles. Even though I shouldn't take it in other way, "new addition to the White Mansion" sounded pretty odd to say, but I shouldn't think too hard about it.

"Ah, right on time as always." Crisanto turns his heads to his sons that enter the room. Leading his brothers, dressed handsomely, is no other than the bruiting, Guzmán.

He is dressed in a black velvet suit, a suit that darkens his eyes in a strange deep incandescent green filled with obscured devilry. His hands are in his pocket, and he looks at just about everything in the room, except for in my direction. For a split second our eyes lock, and he quickly turns away clenching his jaw. I can tell he is forcing himself to avoid me. But why? I wonder what his problem is.

His brothers are dressed in a more casual formal attire. They all sit in seats near the girls I'm living with, and some next to each other and other guests who I am not yet familiar with. By the time all the boys sat down, the only spot left for Guzmán to sit is next to me...

His powerful scent infiltrates my nostrils and I can't help but to think how good he smells. I try my best to ignore him, tapping my fingers on my thighs. I can feel him eyes looking over me, and from the corner of my eye I see his jaw do his signature clenching thing again, and he quickly turns his head away from me, taking a sudden interest in the silverware in front of him.

"Now, shall we say grace before we begin?" Crisanto smiles but it quickly fades when he looks at me, giving me an apologetic look.

"I'm sorry Nadia, forgive me. Would it be alright to say prayer? I don't want to oppress any different religious beliefs." he asks me and I shrug in my seat, trying to avoid all the eyes of the room staring at me.

"I really don't mind it." I smile nervously.

"Splendid. Come now, let us all hold hands." he tells us. I'm not so keen to the idea of holding hands with Guzmán, but I must do so. This day just keeps getting better and better...

We all stand from our seats, grabbing onto one another's hands. I am hesitant to hold Guzmán's hand, inching my hand closer to his.

"I don't bite," whispers Guzmán. "Hard." He surprises me by practically snatching my hand into his. His hands are bigger than mind, fingers slender and ringed with silver, and easily wraps around my cold hands. Unlike his, which are somewhat soft and very warm. For some odd and stupid reason, I can feel my face heating up and I literally shake my head to fight against the sensation. I hate this.

"Our gracious Heavenly Father," Crisanto begins the prayer and we all close our eyes as he continues. For some odd reason I am tempted to open my eyes, and stupidly, I do, only to see Guzmán staring at me. I close my eyes quickly and I hear a soft chuckle escape from his mouth. I didn't think he was even capable of even chuckling, let alone laughing. I can feel the heat rising, my palms getting hotter and hotter.

Please end this prayer already! Please! I mentally scream. I repeat it over and over in my head, just so I can escape Guzmán's grip. Within moments, Crisanto ends the prayer with an amen, and we all sit back down in our seats. Thank goodness.

I snatch my hand back as quick as I could, looking away and pretending Guzmán doesn't exist. Yet, this cunning young man has the audacity to lean closer and whisper into my ear.

"Don't worry, I enjoyed holding your hand too." he grins against my ear. I can feel him smiling at me. I know for sure it's with all the wrong intentions.

"Don't flatter yourself." I whisper back to him and his eyes simmer cold, but his perky lips still hold that smirk. Guzmán smirks and focuses his attention to his plate.

"I can tell you're not going to be an easy catch." he says and my mouth hangs open. I know he's trying to get under my skin. I can tell by his cheeky smile.

I scoff.

"You have another thing coming if you're thinking I'm a catch." I tell him and focus on my plate, waiting for the waiter to reveal our meals. Everyone else is socializing with one another like normal people, and here I am with the dreamy yet diabolical, Guzmán, who I barley even know—is finding it in his twisted pleasure to annoy me.

"Don't worry, little rabbit, I enjoy a good game." I look at him and I lose it.

"Game?!" I shout and everyone goes quiet. I clear my throat thinking of something of a way to quickly dig myself out of this awkwardness.

"I didn't know you fancied sports so personally, Guzmán." I shoot Guzmán a wicked look, hoping he catches on. He simply grins. Damn his smile is gorgeous, but already I despise him.

"Oh yes, basketball is a sport I love. As well as rugby, and such and such." Guzmán replies and everyone continues to their casual banter. I notice his brothers whispering to one another, chuckling.

"Nadia, I'd like you to meet my young friends who are successful in the fashion industry," Crisanto smiles at me, pointing to the gentleman with the dark blue suit and wavy brown hair. I can tell he is a model because how charming he is.

"This is Nathaniel Gray, he models for Calvin Klein. The fellow next to him is his friend, Austin, accompanied by their companion, Eleanor Steel, who is a photographer.

I wave to them and they give me friendly smiles, but I can tell they weren't really interested in the acquainting business. The waiters reveal our meals which consist of steak, lobster, salads, vegetables, fruits, and my personal favorite beverage besides lemon water and wine.

The night had went on and on about business talk and getting familiar with one another. The boys kept cackling to jokes most of the time, and I would occasionally talk to my suite mates. Carla was busy flirting with a guy named, Joseph, who was more than alluring on his part

Throughout dinner, Guzmán stayed quiet and kept to himself. He didn't make any snarky comments, or made an attempt to bother me. Every time I talked, he just...watched me. Maybe he didn't think I noticed him, or felt him looking at me. Or maybe, he didn't care if I did...

"So, Nadia, please do tell us a little bit more about yourself." Nathaniel asks, taking a sip of wine from his glass.

"There's not really much to know about me." I nervously reply. Being the center of attention was never my favorite thing to be.

"Please, enlighten us." Nathaniel insists and I sigh to myself. Guzmán is fully focused on me and I can feel the anxiety brewing within me.

"Well, I'm from Madrid, Spain, born and raised. I love singing and photography, as well as writing. Um, I'm in my last year of college at NYU, majoring in English and hope to one day publish a story of my own. I'm Twenty-one years old, and I have a loving family who I am thankful everyday for." I tell everyone and notice Guzmán has turned his attention somewhere else, burying a smile under his hand pressed against his lips.

"Well that was a perfect little bio if I ever heard one. Nice to meet you, Nadia." Nathaniel says and I smile and mentally pat myself on the back. I take a quick glance at Guzmán who drinks his wine. As soon as I look away to down the rest of my glass of wine, I think I hear him say, "This should be fun."

"What did you say?" I look at him. I meant for it to come out more with authority but I sounded like a timid school girl.

"Nothing, Princess," Guzmán grins while standing. "Enjoy your meal." he winks and walks away from the table, leaving the dining hall. Crisanto watches him leave and I pour me more wine and continue eating.

I really wonder what goes on in Guzmán's head. I sigh. So far I have survived the ongoing night. Let's see how it ends.

...

AFTER DINNER ENDED everyone said their fair-wells and goodbyes to one another. Carla kept flirting with Joseph, and the other girls were a trying to keep their drunken behavior managed until they got back to the suite. Crisanto had got into his white limousine hosted by William, and had left for the airport. The house is now officially in the supervision to me and his sons. Honestly, I don't know which terrifies me the most.

I stroll around outside on the balcony after getting changed into more comfortable clothes to sleep in, which is just a typical silky white gown. My hair in a messy bun and I am so glad to have all that make-up off my face. I put on my reading glasses and make me some tea to soothe me. I figure I'll take this peaceful moment to enjoy the night air. I tip toe outside onto the balcony while the the girls are asleep l in their rooms.

I take in the fresh late spring air. The breeze cool, just right, soothing and running across me. The balcony is big and acts as a perfect view for most of the enormous backyard of the white mansion. I see the tennis court, the basketball court, the swimming pool, the green house, and the walking trail that stretches into a land of tall trees amongst the meadow between the mansion and the woods.

I lean on the ledge of the stone balcony guarded by more white lions. Below, I notice someone standing near the swimming pool. He just stands there, looking at the large pool illuminated with the lights beneath it. I set my cup on the ledge and watch him. It's of course, Guzmán, to no surprise. I just watch him. What is he doing? Why do I care?

I continue to watch as he mindlessly watches the pool with his hands in his pocket. Then, to my surprise, Guzmán begins to slowly undress, taking off his clothes peace by peace. His skin is open to the night air. He pulls down his pants, kicking of his shoes and sliding off his socks. Finally, the biggest shock, is that he slides off his black name brand boxers and tosses them to the side. Oh my god, he's naked! Skinny dipping at that!

I can't help but to notice how his physique is literally godly, Greek defined for sure. The shape of his rear even, it's unearthly. I blush at the sight and I want to look away. In fact, I even turn my head...but instinctively, I find myself looking back.

He rakes his fingers through his hair and I am mesmerized by the intensity of his back muscles. He must work out. A lot. Catching me off guard, Guzmán turns his head back towards where I stand and I quickly duck to the floor of the balcony. I peak at him, seeing him turn back around and I cautiously stand back up. I watch as he dives into the now disturbed water, swimming naked and proud without a care in the world.

taglist: @inmyarmsyoufell @elitestan @glamorizing @jasminejc4525

#elite au #elite fanfic #elite season 4 #guznadia #guzman x nadia #netflix elite #ao3fic #ao3 #fanfiction #wattpad fanfic #ander x omar #romace #writers #wattpad fiction #omander #omar ayuso #aron piper #manu rios

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dylanxmin · 4 years

Text

sweet boy | kth

pairing; taehyung x reader

genre; western, fluff, humor, slight enemy to lovers au?

rating; pg-15

warnings; swearings, slight make out, and lots of whining

word count; 1.5k

summary; y/n visits her parents on the farm, and meets the boy they adored so much.

a/n; This is part of the Bangtan Rodeo Drabble Game hosting by @hobiance ♡ also thank you for requesting this honey, hope you’ll like it ♡ ♡

a/n2; hope y’all having a nice time while reading this one!! i don’t know if it’s good, so let me know if it’s. ;) thank you for reading it, love y’all ♡

''Remember, you love your parents. The only thing that matters is this,'' you whisper to yourself under your breath. Sure, you liked your parents, you adored them. But, did they have to live on a farm? Is it the thing where you would want to live when you get older, or is it just your parent's choice.

You take one final breath before dropping the farming tools from your hands in anger. You had enough of this! You got mud on your clothes, your hands, and of course, on your face. You're sweaty, dirty, and furious because of the boiling sun.

Why did they choose to live in here over your beautiful, less muddy city? Seriously, why?

''Oh, Petal, come back home. Your mom made lemonade for us- Plus, we got a visitor.'' your dad shouts from the porch, gesturing you to come back to home.

Sweet Alabama!

You did go to your house, almost run there. You want to get a shower and be clean again, as soon as possible. Your quick run made you even more sweaty, and you just want to relax under cold water.

''Oh, baby, meet with Ta-''

''Can't talk, too sweaty!'' you pass through your mother and didn't even land an eye on the stranger she is talking about. It might look as a rude move, but in your defense, you are too worn out to care about.

After brushing your hair, happily you get down to where your parents sits. You find them on the porch, sitting around the round table, laughing at something. You see the stranger's back and the big straw hat. It was similar to the one your dad has, and you hold your laughter forcefully. C'mon, it is a funny hat.

''Oh, petal. Here, meet with Taehyung.'' your mom introduces you to the man in front of you. Who sits between your parents, drinking your mother's lemonades, and wearing the funny hat. ''He is a big help with us in here, and has the sweetest soul!'' your mom says joyfully and it's surprise you how she describes him, with a bright smile on her face.

No way that you're jealous of him.

What to be jealous about? His funny hat, or his cute smile? Maybe his adoring eyes, or his thick lips? What are you thinking about? Why are you thinking about his look all of a sudden? For god sake...

''Hi, I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you, I guess,'' you whisper the last part, only your mother would hear you and slightly pinch your arm. You look at her with knitted brows, ready to say something but she is not looking at you, rather, landing her gaze on Taehyung, and gives him the biggest smile. Why they love him so much? Because of his funny-looking hat?

''Hi, how are ya'?''

Don't laugh. Don't you dare to laugh. Okay, he got a little slang over there, so what?

''I'm doin' fine. What about ya?'' you couldn't help but imitate him. Obviously, you did drag up the imitating a little, as your mom pinch your arm once again. But you just annoyed how they liked him so much, to be honest.

''Good, good.'' he lets a scoff with an unsafe gaze. You tilt your brows up, challenging him on this threatening gaze race. Does he think that you would be scared of him? Poor boy...

''You said that she is havin' a hard time with farming, right Miss Park?'' his daring eyes find your mother's face, and looks at her softly. You got to be kidding me!

Of course, you did understand what he is up to, but before you could talk, he cuts you off.

''I could show her some tricks if you let me,'' he says gently. He is trying to mess with you, just because you made fun of him? You'd like to strike back and beat him at his own game, but getting mud all over you just didn't sound fun.

''I guess, I can hand-''

''Oh, of course, darling!'' this time, your mother cuts your words to encourage him to play with you.

While you sending a look over your parents, screaming 'how could you' with your eyes, Taehyung gets up already, passes through you, and leaves the porch. You feel like throwing up, regret taking all over your body, while sweat starts to build up in your neck, all over again.

''Aren't you comin'?'' he calls you from far. You feel drained before even go there, and diving in the mud. You look at your parents once again, they smiled and wave at you. ''Have fun, darling.'' your dad says before taking a sip from his lemonade.

Yes, you'll have fun. Totally.

''I'm so tired! I think I'm going to faint. It's so hot. Oh my god-''

''Just shut your big bazoo, forsake!'' he roars while trowing the tool from his hands.

You stay still, froze for a second. A chill gets over your body, nails clenching the head of the shovel. How could he dare to yell at you? Yes, maybe you did whine too much, did everything wrong, and made him make it all over again. But you didn't want to be here, he literally forced you into this.

''Can't ya' just shut up for a sec?'' he rolls his eyes for the third time today. ''What a coffee boiler, sake..''

''What did you just say?'' you bossed, hitting the shovel to the mud. Anger starts to build in you once again. You didn't know what 'coffee boiler' means, but you did guess it is not something good.

''I said that you are such a coffee boiler. Annoying, whiney, and a lazy girl you are!'' his veins visible on his neck while screaming at you. With each word, he got closer to you.

''Oh, I'm sorry that I'm not good playing with fucking mud!'' you snapped back. Blood boiling in your veins with the disgust you feel inside. Who does he think he is? He thinks he can yell at you just because your parents love him? And, your parents seriously called him sweet. You couldn't see any sweet dripping on him, though.

''Uh, It's clear as day you're a city-slicker. You know that, right?'' he rolls his eyes once more, taking one step closer.

A city-slicker?

''What is that even means!'' you yell, couldn't hold your growing anger inside of you, closing the small gap between you. ''You keep talking your gibberish while I'm trying to live a life!'' you add, panting.

After a moment, you realized how close you two standing, noses almost bumping each other. And from this close, you couldn't hold your self from eying his face.

His beautiful face.

His chocolate orbs glowing madly, round face having a little cute nose on it, with admirable lips. He is one charming boy, and you just recognized it. You open your eyes to speak, but his hands cup your face, cutting your breaths. You didn't know what to say, anyway.

''So, I should shut that big bazoo, huh?''

You couldn't find the right words for a second, your mind is numb, as well as your cheeks, where he cares with his thumbs.

''P-please,'' you could only manage to whisper, you had no strength in you to talk. You feel desperate for his kiss, while your eyes darting between his lips and his eyes. For a second you did hate this man with all of your parts, but now, all you could ask was his lips.

He takes you into a kiss that includes lots of emotions. Anger, hate, passion, and sweetness. Your vision goes white with the touch of his lips, mind goes numb.

He is trying to conquer you over this kiss, and you gladly let him do that. The mud or the hot didn't bother you anymore, not while under his magical kiss. You pull him by the collar of his shirt, need him to be closer.

''I-hım!'' your kiss ends the way it starts. Rapid, and shockingly. ''Come and eat your sandwiches, you lovebirds.'' your dad chuckles under his beard, probably they know that you'll end up having a makeout session with Taehyung, as you get it from how your dad looks at you.

''I guess we should go, yeah?'' Taehyung holds your hand to pull you inside. You surprise how he stays at ease. You never felt this embarrassed in your life, while he was okay with all of this.

''I liked what we just did. So there is nothin' to be embarrassed.'' He pulls you in another kiss before going inside but quicker this time.

He puts his hat at your head while you eating what your mom made for you two.

''You’re hotter than a tin roof in August. Ya' know that?'' he says while eying you with his sheepish smile.

''Okay, is it a good thing?'' you ask, couldn't understand if it's good or bad, because this could mean something different. So, you wanted to be sure. But he stays silents while smirking at you.

''Taehyung... What that suppose to mean?'' you insist, but he doesn't say anything. What an annoying man... ''Taehyung, c'mon!''

#bhqdrabbles #bangtanhq #heartsforbts #btsgoldnet #btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #bangtanarmynet #kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #taehyung humor #taehyung fluff #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #dylanxmin

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tony-is-my-daddy · 4 years

Text

Date me please

So recently I reblogged this post and I know it’s like two years old but it inspired me so here’s a little something I wrote while sleep deprived at 3am. Forgive me if it sucks.

Peter was completely zoned out, barely even paying attention to the lecture because he found his teacher much more interesting than what was coming out of his mouth. He watched as the man walked around, explaining something to the class and while Peter enjoyed the deep tone of his smooth voice, he couldn't comprehend what he was saying.

He's had a crush on his Physics teacher ever since he first set his eyes on him so... since freshman year. Well, maybe this wasn't even a crush anymore because his feelings towards the older man have only got stronger and now here he was, as a senior, still having a hard time speaking whenever Mr. Stark asked something from him.

But could you blame him? The man was the dictionary definition of perfection. Handsome face, a pair of deep brown eyes and he could even pull off a goatee that, let's admit it, doesn't look too good on other men. His dark hair was starting to go grey and while that would disgust a lot of people, in Peter's eyes it only made him even hotter. And not to talk about his seemingly perfect body, not too muscly but definitely not what men his age usually looked like. Peter adored the way those shirts stretched around his shoulders and chest and how his pants fit perfectly around the parts he wanted to see the most.

All in all, Mr. Stark looked like a god and Peter was in love with him.

He was snapped out of his trance by the harsh sound of the bell ringing and with a sigh, he started packing his books into his backpack.

"Alright kids, don't forget the test next week. Have a nice day," his teacher said, leaning agaist his desk as he watched the students get up and walk out of the classroom.

"Wanna go to the next class?" Ned asked as he got up as well. Peter looked up, still sitting in his chair as he tried to pack as slowly as he could.

"Um, go ahead, I'll catch up."

"Alright, just don't be late."

"Never."

Ned was one of the last students to walk out of the room, leaving Mr. Stark alone with Peter. When Peter finished packing, he stood up and turned to Tony with a shy smile on his face.

"Pete! Hey kiddo, how are you?"

"Oh um... I'm good. How are you, sir?"

"Just as usual for old people like me," the man laughed. "I saw you kind of... zoned out during the lesson. Are you sure everything's okay?"

"Oh yeah, just a bit tired," he lied.

"You know, I've noticed that you do this pretty often but I never dared to ask about it because no matter if you pay attention or not, your grades are always up, so I didn't think it was necessary." Tony pushed himself away from his desk and took two steps forward towards Peter, who did the same. Now they were much closer and Peter had to bite down on his tongue to keep himself from saying anything inappropriate. "But now I really have to ask, is something bothering you? You know you can tell me anything."

"I-I know, Mr. Stark, but I don't think I should be sharing this with you of all people," Peter said nervously. "Maybe my therapist but not you," he added quietly.

"Woah, is there something wrong at home? Should I call someone or-"

"No! Mr. Stark, I should really go to class now but I promise everything is okay. Please don't stress yourself because of me, it's not worth it, it's silly anyway."

Peter walked towards the door with quick steps, his head hanging low while he murmured curses under his breath. He was stupid, so so stupid. Why did he have to say that, it wasn't even necessary and now Tony thought there was actually something wrong with him. He was stupid, stupid, stupid.

"Wait," Mr. Stark said just as Peter's hand reached for the doorknob. He turned around and looked at the older man. "Your 18th birthday is coming up, right?"

"Y-yes, in two weeks, but how do you-"

"Do you have any plans? I mean, that’s pretty big, you’re basically an adult now. Maybe a party or something?"

“No, I don’t have many friends or a lot of money for these kind of things. I guess MJ and Ned will come over in the morning and we’ll spend the day together. But why are you asking, sir?”

“Well... I know people your age probably don’t want to spend time with people my age, but uh... would you mind if I invited you for a dinner? Just to celebrate, you know.”

His breath hitched and he knew his eyes lit up even though he tried his best to keep on the straightest face possible while his heart was beating out of his chest.

"Y-you want me to have dinner with you?" he asked, trying to suppress a happy smile.

"Yeah. I mean, I know I'm not supposed to have a favorite student but... come on," he joked and Peter laughed. He was Tony’s favorite... "So would you like to? Have dinner, I mean."

"Um yeah, yes, I mean. It's so nice of you, sir, you really shouldn't-"

"I gotta pay back for all those apples you brought to every class of mine when you were a little freshman." Tony smiled at him fondly while Peter was literally on the verge of crying. He remembered that?

"That was because you're an amazing teacher and you really deserved it."

"Well my doctor was definitely happy about it, finally I wasn't only eating things that were fried in a gallon of oil."

The bell rang again, interrupting their conversation and then Peter realized he was late from his third period. "Oh god, I should go to my next class. Thank you again, Mr. Stark, sir, you're so nice for inviting me and you really shouldn't have- I already said that, sorry. So um... have a great rest of your day and uh bye," he sputtered.

"Have a nice day Pete. And don't forget to breathe!" his teacher called after him but he was already out of the classroom, running up the stairs with a huge grin on his face as he played the conversation in his head over and over again.

Tony Stark, the man he's liked for nearly three years just invited him for a dinner.

When his birthday did come around, Ned and MJ came over like they promised and they stayed for a bit longer than expected since they didn’t know Peter had other plans as well.

When they finally left, Tony texted him (yes, his teacher has had his number for years, so what) to get ready for the dinner. He almost freaked out because he had to get ready in such a short span of time and he literally had to look perfect because duh, it's Tony Stark. He didn't quite achieve the look he wanted to, but he didn't look awful so that was acceptable considering how quickly he had to do everything.

When Tony got to his place, he just buzzed in and Peter was running down the stairs after saying bye to May.

The man looked... breathtaking. As always, of course, but now he was formally dressed up in a light blue button up shirt and a navy suit jacket that he left unbuttoned.

"Wow, Mr. Stark I really wasn't expecting you to look... this formal. I should've dressed up more."

"Oh come on kid, you look great. Besides I only told you where we're going half an hour ago so it's good you even had time to get this well dressed." Tony opened the door to the passenger seat of his car and Peter got in after a quiet "thank you".

When Tony got in the car and started driving, the tension between them got even stronger. They were in a moving vehicle together, neither of them could get out nor could they get interrupted by anyone walking in. It was awkward, so awkward because for a while, they didn't say anything, just sat in silence while staring at the road in front of them. Peter's mind was racing, though. He hasn't really thought about what this dinner meant, he just knew it wasn't normal for a teacher to ask a student out for dinner. That was usually a date thing, but they weren't on a date now, were they? They couldn't be because that would've meant Tony liked him back and that would never happen, not even in Peter's wildest dreams.

After a while, Peter decided to break the silence and ask the question that was eating him up on the inside.

"Mr. Stark, what is this? What are we doing right now?"

There was an awkward silence and the boy could see Tony's knuckles gripping the steering wheel go white. "Well, we're going eating. It's your birthday, we have to celebrate properly."

"Do you celebrate each one of your students' birthdays like this?"

"No, of course not."

"Then why am I an exception?"

Tony let out a heavy sigh and cleared his throat to win more time for himself, basically driving the boy mad.

"Look Peter, I only wanted to start this at dinner where I didn't have to pull over in the New York traffic for you to run away from me but... if you really wanna talk about it now then we're going to talk about it now." He kept silent for a while, probably only to push Peter's buttons even more. His head turned away from the road only for a second to find Peter's honeysuckle eyes, then turned back, but that second seemed like minutes to Peter. "I might have misunderstood your signs and if I have, tell me now before it gets awkward but... the way you act around me makes me think you like me."

Peter groaned and buried his hot, red face in his palms. How did he notice, how long has he known, all his questions were left unanswered as Tony kept going.

"You know, you always stare at me during class, I just act like I don't notice your eyes on me because I have to teach thirty other students there."

Peter was so embarassed, he wished the ground underneath him would open up and swallow him whole or the seatbelt around him would choke him to death, anything just to not hear what else Tony had to say.

"Look, Peter, if I'm wrong tell me right now. If you don't like me then please save me from more awkard moments and just say it."

"Y-you're right. I l-like you... a lot," he stuttered quietly.

"Wait, really?" Tony asked again, sounding shocked. But not like a bad shocked, more like a happy shocked. And when Peter finally uncovered his face to look at the man sat next to him, he saw that he was indeed smiling cheerfully. "Oh god, that's so good because, you know, I kind of like you too. Have done for a while."

Peter pinched his forearm hard just to see if he wasn't dreaming. He didn't dare to believe what the older man was saying, it simply seemed too good to be true.

"Say something," Tony asked when he didn't say anything for a while.

"You're... you're not joking, are you?"

"You think I would joke around with losing my job, Peter?"

"No, I'm sorry, I just... this all seems so unbelievable because I've liked you for so long and why would you like someone like me? It makes no sense."

Tony laughed. "You're really not aware of how kind and smart and sweet you are, Pete? You don't see how beautiful you look? How perfect you are?"

"I'm in no way perfect, Mr. Stark."

"I think I get to decide whether or not you’re perfect. And I think you are. Oh, by the way, kid, we're going on our first date right now, I think you can call me Tony," the older man smiled.

Peter felt himself blush a light pink again, his heart almost bursting out of his chest with happiness. "Okay. Tony."

#starker #starker moodboard #starker fanfiction #starker fanfic #fanfiction #tony stark x peter parker #tony stark/peter parker #tony x peter #tony stark #peter parker #teacher crush au

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amydancepants-peralta · 4 years

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44 or 52 pls! :)

Hi anon! I tossed up over the two for a bit there, but here goes!

Here is 52: “I thought you knew.” 💕

☀️ The sun feels warm on Amy’s skin, and as a refreshingly cool breeze rushes through her hair she finds it next to impossible not to break out into a grin. Today was turning out to be a pretty great day.

Given that over the years the Santiago family have spread themselves out over various states and cities, it has always been considered a sizeable task to get more two or more members in the same place and the same time - major family events excluded. Perhaps that was why today felt particularly special; an impromptu gathering in the park leading to three of her brothers (and their extended family) occupying a decent amount of space in a park thirty minutes drive from her and Jake’s apartment.

The infectious giggles of two of Amy’s cousins, Maria and Eddie, bubble up to her ears as they zoom past, far too intent on winning their game of chase to acknowledge their tia as their tiny feet kick up blades of grass. Their father, Luis, stands over to Amy’s right, manning the grill and holding his ground in a relatively level-headed disagreement with David about the ‘right way’ to barbecue the meat they were serving with lunch. To her left, her sister-in-law Clarissa teaches her and Andrew’s daughter how to play patty cake. The relaxed joviality that can only be brought about by the gathering of loved ones is floating in the air around them, and Amy is endlessly thankful that both she and Jake had the chance to join in today.

Six months have passed since the birth of their daughter - since, in one evening, Amy had experienced both excruciating pain and an abundance of elation, all within five short hours - and it felt like both yesterday and a million years ago, all at the same time.

It had been an interesting few months to begin with (babies, she had quickly learned, are not interested in following any schedules you may have put together, no matter how meticulous they may be); and it was only in the last ten or so weeks that the three of them had finally been able to figure out a routine. Finally, their little girl was starting to sleep through the night, and she and Jake have learned to adjust to their new normal (which always seems to be changing; but if there is anyone that has taught Amy Santiago to expect the unexpected, it’s Jake Peralta).

None of it has been easy - most of the great things in life rarely were - but she would do it all again in a nanosecond, just for the sheer joy of hearing her daughter’s laugh for the first time.

Today, Amy stands amongst family with freshly cut hair (thanks largely to her husband taking an extra day off yesterday, pushing her out their front door with a declaration that today is Amy Day), wearing one of her favourite dresses and lending out a helping hand as she talks to other adults about topics other than teething and feeding schedules, and it all feels kind of amazing.

A stray breeze grabs a hold of a pile of napkins that had been sitting at the table, throwing them carelessly over the surrounding grass, and Amy scrambles quickly - desperate to catch them before they fall victim to the trampling feet of her many nieces and nephews. It turns out to be an almost impossible task, excusing herself with a polite smile as she moves too close for comfort towards other people’s gatherings, snatching up the items as quickly as possible so that she can make a hasty exit.

It’s as she moves to grab the last offender that Amy manages to overhear a conversation, the guilt at eavesdropping only temporary as she picks up on the topic. There are two women to her left, both of whom were nursing what looked to be wine coolers in plastic cups, and one woman’s focus was on something (or rather, someone) in the distance before her.

“Ohmygodokay, Jenna … don’t look right away, but I’ve totally just found the hottest guy at this park.” There’s a pause, and then the voice continues. “I told you not to look right away!”

“Okay, okay - relax Rachel!” was the snarky reply, following up quickly with an “Okay, damn!”

Still keeping her head bowed, Amy’s wedding ring set sparkles in the sunlight as she reaches out to grab the last napkin, and it’s taking all of her restraint not to straighten up and look in the direction the women were facing.

“See? I told you I’d found the winner.”

“Mmmhmm, yep.”

“The height, the smile, the baby sling strapped around him … you know, I’ve never really been big on plaid, but on this guy it totally works.”

“It really does.”

It’s the mention of the plaid pattern that finally piques Amy’s curiosity, and she swivels her head as she stands, raising her free hand above her eyes to shield them from the sun as she studies the scene before her.

And honestly, the gossiping girls behind her were not wrong.

The hottest guy in the park was definitely walking towards them; and with an overwhelming surge of pride Amy notices that the hot guy is, in fact, her husband. He’s wearing the eco-friendly sunglasses she bought him for Christmas, and has their baby daughter safely strapped to his chest care of the sling that Gina had given Amy at her baby shower, and he’s honestly never looked hotter.

Returning from Diaper Duty - a role he shares equally with his wife without a single complaint, a fact that makes her love him all the more - Jake grins over at Amy when he notices her looking, lifting their daughter’s hand in a tiny wave as she moves towards the two of them.

“Hey babe,” he says as Amy nears him, lifting his index finger to his lips in a shhh motion as they fall into step together. “Sorry it took me so long. Bubba took a little longer than normal to settle, so she and I just kinda hung out for a little bit over by the flower beds, and then she totally zonked out.”

Craning her neck, Amy looks over at the tiny sleeping bundle resting against Jake’s chest, and she cannot help but feel her heart smile at the sight. “My god she’s adorable.”

“Ugh, I know right? Like, obviously we were going to make a cute baby. But this? It’s like a whole other level of cuteness. I literally cannot handle it.”

Slowing down her pace, Amy waits until she and Jake are standing on the outskirts of their family gathering before leaning in for another look, this time leaving a gentle kiss against the hat that sat on top of their daughter’s head. (Truly, there was no way anyone could have prepared her for how endearingly tiny all of their little girl’s clothing would turn out to be. Tiny hats! Teeny tiny socks! Ruffle covered bottoms! It was all too much, and yet never enough.)

“Here,” Jake offers, revealing a plucked daisy; the white petals looking far too small inside his crazily sexy hands. “We picked this for you.”

With her eyebrows raised in surprise, Amy looks up at Jake with a smile, taking the tiny flower and tucking into the juncture of her ear and hairline. “You two … are just the sweetest,” she mumbles, grabbing Jake’s hand and bringing it up to leave a kiss against his wedding ring. He grins in return, resting his hand against her lower back when she frees it, leading Amy gently towards the rest of the guests as lunch begins to be served.

It’s over an hour before Jake and Amy find themselves with a chance to pull away from the others, tidying up the remnants of lunch before standing off to the side and watching their cousins negotiate one last round of playtime before the drive home.

Resting her head against Jake’s shoulder as his right arm wraps around hers, Amy lets out a contented sigh. Apart from a brief moment of activity where she’d demanded a bottle, their baby girl had spent the majority of the afternoon asleep against her father’s chest. Knowing that she was comfortable and safe, while she and Jake sat together with family and caught up on each other’s lives, had relaxed Amy to no end.

Smiling up at Jake’s phone as he whips it out to take a selfie, Amy nods in approval at the resulting image before remembering the conversation she’d heard earlier.

“You are totally the flavour of the day, by the way.”

Turning his head to the right, Jake studies Amy’s face for a moment before furrowing his brow, replying with a confused “Huh?”

Nodding her chin towards the other women in the park, one side of Amy’s mouth slides upwards into a amused grin. “Just before you got back from diaper duty, I happened to overhear a couple of girls talking. And they totally declared you to be the hottest dad around.” Turning her body towards his, Amy reaches out to toy with the lining of the unbuttoned plaid that he’d thrown over the top of his shirt today. “I, of course, could not agree more.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Jake pauses as the information sinks in, then shakes his head. “Hottest dad, huh?”

Pulling away slightly, Amy looks at him in surprise. “I thought you knew?”

Jake cocks his head to the side, and she smiles before continuing. “You’ve had the biggest smile on your face all afternoon, Peralta. It’s practically stealing the sun’s job, it’s so bright.”

Her husband laughs at the comparison, his left hand reaching out to cradle their daughter’s head as his chest bounces repeatedly. “Ames,” he responds, letting his right hand slide down Amy’s back before grabbing her left, “I’m out at the park with family on a long weekend off. I’ve got my baby girl all snuggled up safe and sound, and my gorgeous wife is walking around in the same pink dress I remember peeling off her body on the first day of our honeymoon. Life is pretty damn good today. It’s no wonder I’m smiling.”

Amy’s heart stutters a little at Jake’s statement, her bottom lip curling up at the sweet nature of the man she loves. How she managed to get this lucky, she’ll never understand. Pushing herself up to her tippy toes, she cranes her neck up towards Jake and pushes a quick kiss against his lips. “Good save, babe.”

“Not a save so much as it is the truth,” Jake counters, leaning back down for another kiss. “I’m the luckiest man alive right now, and that is the only thing I know.”

Cupping his cheek in her hand, Amy matches Jake’s smile with her own. “I love you, babe.”

“I love you, too.” Dipping his head, Jake kisses her once more, then pulls away quickly. “Wait. Does this mean … I’m a dilf?”

Twisting her mouth to one side, Amy pretends to consider the obviously correct title before nodding. “It totally does. But … only if that means that I’m a milf in return.”

Jake’s forehead leans against hers, and he holds Amy’s gaze as he winks, lowering his voice so that only she can hear his reply. “I think the events from two nights ago will confirm that is most definitely the case.”

Amy feels the blush begin at the tips of her ears, flooding her cheeks before she has a chance to control it, and Jake chuckles softly at her reaction, running his hand soothingly up and down her back as she rests her head against his shoulder again. Peeking down at their daughter, Amy takes in the fact that she’s still sleeping and whispers “Your daddy is always finding ways to make mama blush, bubba. We’ve gotta figure out some ways to counter-attack.”

“Oh, please. She had me wrapped around her little finger, exactly zero point two seconds after she was born.”

Chuckling softly, Amy nods in agreement. “Same. If only she knew the power she has over us.”

A minute snuffle comes out of their daughter’s mouth as if in response, her perfect little lips bunching up into a tiny pout as she nestles closer to Jake’s shirt. There’s a tiny trail of drool left behind, and like two totally enamoured parents, they both find themselves smiling at the result.

“Oh yeah, she totally knows.”

Nodding again, Amy wraps her free arm around Jake’s waist, closing her eyes briefly and breathing in the scent of his cologne as she lets the last of the day’s sunlight soak into her skin.

Truly, this was turning out to be an amazing day. And she had the strongest instinct that there were a thousand more great days, just like this one, waiting for them in the future. But the future could wait - because she had everything she needed, right here in her arms.

#anon I hope you enjoy!#this ended up longer than intended #but turns out the idea of writing Hot Dad Jake is a topic I could go on and on about #seriously I had to edit this riiiight down #my writing #tumblr prompts #gahh I really do hope you like this one #and if this topic has been done I'm sorry #I've been absent because STRESS WHAT STRESS #b99 fanfic #Jake x Amy fic #jake x amy #peraltiago fic

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