#those are supposed to be balconies and windows and stuff

[rmedgg]

The human who didn’t know Pt. 2

Pairing: Normie male reader x Enid Sinclair and Wednesday Addams

Chapter 2: Trip and New friends

I apologize for taking so long on getting the second part on here link to the first part is right below this so read that before this or don’t (I recommend you do) also any poll on the author notes can be disregarded as the story is already on chapter 14 so until I catch up on here they can be disregarded anyways enough ranting please enjoy

Y/n pov

"So what exactly did you mean when you said I'd be someone worth following behind? I asked Blake as he lead me through a patio area

"Exactly that, you see my pack has its own rules and traditions we follow. When we meet someone we deem strong wether it be by there character or, by their strength we follow them. As those people are usually the best leaders." He stated in a matter-of-factly tone.

"So I'm your leader now? And what's with this pack your talking about." I asked incredulously 

"Yes. My wolf pack when as I'm a werewolf or could you not tell? Either way when we turn 16 we are allowed to start or join our own packs. All you need to do is acknowledge me and we'll even get a mental link." He said with some underlying excitement in his usual monotone voice.

"What the hell am I even supposed to respond." I thought as we walked in silence for a couple of minutes to our dorm room.

Bland and boring is how I would describe the room, it was made of some sort of dark wood, the room layout itself was basic just two full size beds, two dressers and, two desks. One of each on either side of the room. On the back door there was a door that opened up to a bathroom. The front wall that you saw when entering the room was taken up by a big circular window that opened up to a balcony.

Stepping outside and onto the balcony looking out I saw that it overlooked the patio area we had walked through to get to our dorm hall. Nodding in approval.

"Hey I'm going to look around campus alright. Maybe see if I get to know some of our neighbors." I told Blake as I walked back into our room from the balcony and made my way to the door.

"Ok, just be back in an hour, as Ms.Weems is taking us along with Richard and Tommy to get stuff for our rooms." He told me

I nodded having forgotten of the other two as I exited the room, I noticed the door across from ours was open and there was music playing. I made my way across and knocked on the open door.

A 6' 2" Caucasian boy with brown hair walks towards the door.

"Can I help you?" He asks

"Ah sorry to bother you, I just wanted to introduce myself since it seems that well be neighbors."

"Oh I'm Xavier Thorpe, and you are?"

He said with a smile as  extended his hand

"I'm Y/n nice to meet you Xavier. I responded and shook his hand

"So what are you?" He asks curiously

"What do you mean?" I asked confusion probably written all over my face.

"Yeah like what type of outcast are you? What else could I mean?"  He said with a chuckle

"Oh well I guess a nerd." I said while smiling

Xavier's expression then went from a smile, to confused

"No your not understanding what I'm asking you. Like what are you? A werewolf? A siren? A vampire? A gorgon? A psychic? Or one something else?" He said

"Just a normal human just like everyone else is. " I told him annoyed

He stared at me then suddenly burst into laughter "Oh man you almost got me, no way a normie could make it into nevermore. What are you seriously?" He asked again while still laughing.

"I already told you I'm a regular human." I told him annoyed that he was laughing

He then looked up and saw that I was serious "You're actually just a normie?!" He shouted in surprise

"What the hell is a normie?" I asked

"It's a person that's just a human and not an "outcast" you know like the people this school is made for." He said now getting irritated

"Yeah outcasts like people who were bullied for being different" I responded irritated by the conversation that seemed to circle around.

"No not that type of outcasts you moron, did you even look up this school or it's history? Never mind it  doesn't matter this school is for "outcasts" such as werewolves, vampires, psychics, etc."  he said

"Well no I didn't read it I just saw outcasts and assumed it meant kids who got bullied for being different or quirky. Either way those things aren't real your just delusional." I replied quickly

"Me delusional, come on then I'll show you." He said confidently

"Alright then." I said not believing him at all.

We walked into his room. The set up was like ours, each side of the room was decorated differently. Xavier made his way to his desk, sat down and drew a spider.

"Oh man you showed me man." I said trying to hold in my laugh

"Oh shut up, and give me a second." He said focused on his drawing, his hand hovering over it, a couple seconds later it moved,and started crawling around his desk.

"Oh shit! What then hell! How'd you do that?!" I asked surprised making my way closer to his desk to get a better view.

"Ah shit man, sorry for doubting you. That's dope as hell though man." I apologized while staring at the spider

He then snapped and the spider dissolved into dust. "What your not going to freak out and insult me like others do? He asked shocked not looking at me

"Bro let's be realistic even if I wanted to do that, it would be stupid to. Since I don't know the extent of your powers for all I know you can make that shit venomous and kill me in my sleep. Plus that was dope as fuck I wish I had powers." I said awestruck as to what I just witnessed.

"Wait if he has powers does this mean that Blake was telling the truth, and was being serious. Awe shit." I thought

"Wait so your serious about being a normie?"

"Uh yeah, no powers from me. I'm able to attend since I won the scholarship. I also didn't bother reading the website as I thought it meant like Emos, goths, otakus and those types of outcasts." I said

Then I heard it laughter first soft then booming, Xavier turned to face me and he was laughing. "Oh man your a total riot, what type of dumbass applies for a school without reading its history. I can tell we'll become great friends." He said as he wiped away a tear

"Alright man I'll leave you to it I'm going to go and explore the campus and see if i can make any more friends." I said as I waved at him and left his dorm

"Alright man, I'll introduce you to my roommate whenever he gets back from town. Before I forget careful of who you go telling your a human most here have bad experiences with them and would probably put you on some sort of kill list. " said Xavier seriously

"Thanks for the heads up man, but it'll probably be announced when Ms.Weems announces the winner of the scholarship. " I said

"Well if she does I've got your back." He said seriously

"Well thank you." I said as a smile painted itself on my face

As I made my way down the hallway to the staircase, and then subsequently down the stairs into the lobby of the residence hall. Which seemed like the lobby of some high end hotel only without a receptionist. I looked around looking at the furniture. There was 2 sofas and 4 arm chairs which all seemed comfortable enough to sleep in. Along with 2 round tall tables with 2 chairs each meant to be used for studying as there were wall outlets easily accessible. At one of those tables there was a tan short male with black hair and square framed glasses. He seemed to be watching a video of some sort. So I made my way over to him.

"Hey sorry to bother you mind if I take a seat?" I asked

"Huh, you asking me?" He asked seemingly confused with a stranger coming up to him

"Yeah." I responded "my name is Y/n L/n by the way." Stretching my hand out for a handshake

"Ah sorry I'm not used to being approached, but I'm Eugene Ottinger." He said while taking my hand to shake it seeming to have relaxed a bit

"Nice to meet you Eugene, would it be fine if I take a seat?" I asked

"Likewise. Yes please be my guest." He responded quickly "if you don't mind me asking what are your thoughts on bees?" He asked enthusiastically

"Well I like the honey they make, I have also wanted to try honeycomb but I've never had the chance too. Other than that I don't have any real opinion on them. Why do you ask?"  I replied 

"Oh I just love bees, I actually want to see if I'll be allowed to make a beekeeping club." He told me passionately

"Oh that sounds cool if you do I'll be your first member if you wouldn't mind having me. So if you don't mind me asking,why you're so passionate about bees?"  I asked him

"Really that would be great Y/n. Well you see I've never really ever fit in anywhere, or had friends. Well bees have always been there for me ,it's as if they can understand me and they're very good at keeping secrets." He said a bit downcast

"I'd assume they are good at keeping secrets. Well you won't have to worry about not having friends as you've already made your first." I said smiling

"Really we're friends?" Eugene asked surprised

"Of course, why else would I have approached you." I asked chuckling

A phone started to ring  "It was nice meeting you Y/n but my mother is calling me. I'll see you around." Eugene said as he got up from his spot at the table.

"Well see you around" I replied

"Ok so I've made 2 new friend not bad Y/n not bad at all, I still got 20 minutes to go and explore might as well" I thought to myself

Getting up from my spot in the table, and walking towards the entrance doors. I push one open and make my way outside. Taking a nice deep breath of fresh air and look around taking in the surroundings. There seems to be groups of people around this patio area.

"Yeah two friends is more than enough for today." I thought, as I needed an excuse as to why I shouldn't approach any of the groups. 

Looking around I see an open table, as I make my way over to it I observe each group. There seems to be 4 main groups, can't really tell what they are maybe Blake or Xavier can tell me later. When I eventually make it up to the table I take a seat and put my head down the weather is perfect for an afternoon nap. As I'm starting to doze off a excited voice greets me.

"Hi there, I'm Enid Sinclair." Said a blonde girl with blue and pink highlights with an infectious smile

"Huh, oh nice to meet you, Enid I'm Y/n." I said trying to purge the drowsiness from almost falling asleep.

"Oh I'm sorry did I wake you? She said looking concerned

"Ah no it's fine it's probably better that I don't fall asleep I have something to do in like 15ish minutes. So I should be thanking you." I said trying to reassure her

"Oh that's good, mind if I take a seat?" She asked

"Oh you're fine." I responded

"What happened for you to get that scar?" Enid asked looking at the scar on my left eye curiously

"A bit direct aren't you?" I laughed

"Oh I'm sorry if it's a sensitive topic. I was just curious." She said panic evident in her voice

"Don't worry bout it, I actually got this somewhat recently,. I was in a fight and he got me good but I got him back." I told her

"Woah, why were you fighting him? She asked leaning in closer

"Well we were fighting in the tournament for the scholarship." I answered

"Oh right that's a thing. So what are you? I'm a werewolf" She asked changing the subject abruptly

"I'd rather keep it a secret. Sorry." I told her looking away as to not make eye contact

"Don't worry." She responded happily "Do you have an Instagram? I could get so we can stay in contact? She asked eagerly

"Yeah let me just type it in." I said as I grabbed the phone she was handing to me

"Well I have to go." she said as she got up "I'm going to go get lunch, unless you want to come with me" she smiled

"I would love to but unfortunately I have to go with my roommate, to see Ms.Weems." I stated

"Oh that sucks" her smile faltering for a second "Maybe tomorrow then?" She asked

"Yeah why not, I shouldn't have anything planned." I said

She nodded as she got up from the table we were sitting at, and walked away.

"My goodness my eyes have been blessed with this beautiful woman." I thought as I watched her walk away.

Getting up from the table, I stared to walk about towards the residence hall, as I still had 5 minutes left before I needed to be there but I think I've had enough exploring for one day. As I made my way upstairs and into my room I saw Blake laying down on his bed with his headphones on.

"You're back earlier then I expected you to be, in all honesty, I thought I was going to have to hunt you down." Said Blake with a smile.

"Oh ha ha." I said as I took a seat on my bed

"We should make our way to Ms.Weems office, no?" I asked Blake

He nodded and got up

"Let's go then" he said

Background conversations was all that was heard as we walked towards Ms.Weems office, as we walked in silence. We approached a door that had a name plate on it which stated principal's office. Blake then knocked behind the door we heard a muffled voice that told us to enter. After entering Tommy and Richard where there sitting while on there phones. Richard was the first to look up, his face immediately turned from bored to a wide smile.

"Y/n how are you man, it's as if you disappeared on us after the tournament" Richard said excited to see me

"It because he was in a coma remember idiot Ms.Weems even told us." Tommy told him without skipping a beat or looking up from his phone.

"Oh right." Richard said sheepishly

During our interaction I could see Ms.Weems was staring at us smiling happily at the bond we seemed to have made after knowing each other.

"Ok, we'll be headed down to Jericho so you guys can get decor for your rooms, please remember that you are representing Nevermore so do try no to get into fights." She said looking towards our group seriously.

Opening the top drawer of her desk she pulled out four envelopes all numbered one through four in Roman numerals

"These contain the prize money for each of you." She said as she handed them to each of us Blake receiving the one numbered 1, Tommy the one numbered two, Richard the third and me the fourth and final one.

"You guys can get whatever you may need or want. Just know towels, and other basic toiletries will be supplied for your as your dorms are the only ones with private bathrooms." Ms.Weems told us

"Will you accompany us ? Or will you just be dropping us off?" I asked

"I had planned on accompanying you, but I have a faculty meeting so I will have to drop you guys off and then when you feel your done you can just call me." She said as she got up from her desk and made her way to the door  "Let us go before it gets any later"

As we followed her to the van, I could see that the other students were staring at us as we walked through the patio area. We got into the car after walking for 5 minutes and Ms.Weems started to drive towards town. After 30 minutes of driving I saw a sign that read welcome to Jericho.

"Remember guys do not cause any trouble." Ms.Weems said in a very serious tone

"Ok." we all said practically at the same time

She then stopped in front of a furniture store. We all thanked her for the ride as we got out of the car. The town had a very creepy feel to it, it looked like a old style town that would be in a "Friday the 13th" type of movie.

"Alright let's go get furniture." I said walking towards the stores entrance

"Oh do you actually need furniture?" Asked Richard

"Yeah, you don't?" I asked looking at him incredulously

"Nah our families just bought us the stuff and sent it to us like 2 weeks ago man." He said nonchalantly

"well all I'm getting is clothes, since I didn't even have my own room back home." I told him

"So your not like us?" He said confusion on his face

"What rich? No or why else would I have applied for a scholarship?" I asked looking at there faces to see if they were joking

"Well that, and you didn't join it just to fight? Everyone who joins that scholarship is usually just to fight not for like actual financial help." He said

"Obviously he didn't idiot, he didn't even know what "outcasts" were." Said Tommy as he pulled one of Richard's rabbit ears

"Alright I'm going in, to look for a lamp and see what else might be interesting." I said as I walked into the store

"We're right behind you." Said Blake

As we wondered the store looking around I could tell that the employees were watching us intently, as if we were criminals with a record of being thief's. Eventually finding a nice desk lamp that reminded me of the one that crushes the I in Pixar movies, and paying for it. As we were walking out Blake, Tommy and Richard were looking at a couch. Without even turning around Blake asked "Do you think it would fit in our dorm?"

"I don't think it fitting in the room would be the issue, but rather how would you get it up the stairs." I told him

"Me and Richard should be able to jump it up to the balcony" Tommy said matter-of-factly

"What is our room going to be the hangout spot?" I asked

"Obviously it's bigger than our room."  Said Tommy

"Then sure go for it we'll make it fit if it doesn't." I said chuckling

"Ok." Said Blake before walking to an employee to purchase it and have it delivered to the academy

"Thank you come again." Said an employee as we left

"Well we have an hour before Weems comes and gets us. Let's get tattoos?" Said Richard looking excited

"Of what carrot muncher." Said Tommy

"Hey I'll have you know that's offensive, demon spawn." Richard said quickly "Anyway we could get our Roman numerals tatted on us. Hell I'll even pay for them." He continued

We all looked at one another and silently agreed. So we made our way to the conveniently place tattoo parlor across the street, because I mean who doesn't want to go get a tattoo after buying some furniture. As we walked in the man who was sitting at the desk, immediately smiled when he saw Richard.

"So you were able to convince them eh Richard?" The man said with a smile

"Something like that." Richard replied

After discussing where we would get the numbers we each sat at a different tattoo artists table. As we all sat down and the artists started there prep work Blake turned towards me and asked if I had though about what he had told me earlier that day.

"Look man do as you please, if your happy following a "normie" do as you please. Just think it through I wouldn't want you to be ostracized. After all I'm weaker than you" I said seriously

His laughter boomed in the small shop "Oh man you worried about me. I doubt my family would care in all honesty. Being a leader doesn't mean bring the strongest it just means you'll do what needs to be done, when it to be done."

"Normie?!" Everyone besides me and Blake yelled surprised

"Yes. I'm just a normal human being who was dumb and didn't read anything about the school." I said while smiling

"Oh man your a crazy son of a bitch man." Said the owner of the shop as his employees nodded there heads in agreement

I just laughed, and shrugged, and the artists just smiled and started to tattoo us. Tommy got his number on his trapezius, Blake got it on the left side of his neck, Richard got it on his arm, and I settled to getting it on the back of my right hand.

"Man Y/n not bad you only cried for 3/4th of the tattoo." Laughed Richard

"Yeah we'll I'm just a human, with normal pain tolerance." I responded eyes red

"Did you cry when getting all those earrings you have? Tommy said laughing

"As if these were way less painful." I responded chuckling

After Richard payed the tattoos and we tipped the artists. We decided to go to a cafe for the last 20 minutes before Ms.Weems was set to pick us up. As we walked up to the cafe named Weathervane and a bell jingled as we entered it.

"Welcome in." said a dirty blonde teenager wearing a brown shirt and red apron behind the counter.

"Hi, can I get a black coffee" asked Blake turning his head to ask what we wanted

"I'll take an ice coffee" said Tommy

"Me too" added Richard

"I'll take some green tea please." I said

"Ok coming right up." the cashier replied

We decided to take a seat at a booth with Blake and Richard on the inside, while Tommy and I were on the ends. I got up to use the bathroom quickly. After getting back and waiting a bit longer the server came over with our drinks, we thanked him as he placed them on the table. As we were silently enjoying our drinks, a drunk adult approached our table.

"Hey everyone! Look at these freaks thinking they can come to our town and act as if they're one of us." said a man as he put his hand on Tommy's shoulder causing him to tense up and turn towards the man

“Hey would you mind moving your hand from my buddies shoulder.” I asked trying to not sound as scared as I felt

“Oh tough guy aye?” He said having moved his hand from Tommy’s shoulder to the table and leaned in closer

“Hey leave those guys along Mr.Rodgers.” Said the cashier

“Oh stay the hell out of this Galpin! You fucking brat!” The now identified Mr.Rodgers yelled

Motioning my head for us to get up and leave, getting small nods from the other three as we started to get up

“Hey no need for problems sir we were just leaving anyways.” I said as I got out of the booth allowing Blake to get up too

“Oh you don’t want problems yet you had no problems coming to our town? He said as he grabbed my shoulder seeming to have gotten angrier by my statement

“Ah shit how are we going to get out of this one?” I thought as I something Blake told me earlier came to mind please work “Blake can you hear me?” I thought hopefully

“So you were paying attention to what I told you earlier.” Blake responded mentally looking at me from the corner of his eye for a split second with a small smirk

“I don’t know if it’s possible for you to communicate with Tommy and Richard somehow, if so do it and get out there’s a second exit they can use straight back and to the right. I saw it when I went to the bathroom earlier.” I relayed to him mentally

“I’ll let them know, and link them in as they’ve been part of my pack since middle school.” He reported “I was able to link them successfully sir.” he said with the tone of a solider

“Can you all here me? If so bend your right index finger in order ascending.” I said as I glanced at each of them trying to not make it obvious to the drunken older man

I looked down to Blake’s hand first and saw his finger bend, then Tommy’s and finally Richard’s. A subtle smirk made its way onto my face as I sharply exhaled trying to not laugh out of joy

“Something funny you punk.” Said the man as he shoved me back

“Run now, your all faster than me go and find Ms.Weems, or actually give me 5 minutes if I’m not out by then go and find her otherwise wait across the street.” I told them through the link

“Will you be fine?” Asked Blake mentally

“Oh please who gave you that scar? So now go!”

In the blink of an eye Blake turned around and ran towards the front door, while Richard jump over a table and ran, and Tommy turned and ran out both making there way towards the back door as the man went to grab Tommy I spartan kicked him in his stomach causing him to stumble back and focus on me.

“You’ll be fighting me.” I said with newfound confidence

“Oh I’m going to enjoy killing you, fucking freak!” He shouted as he rushed towards me

Quickly grabbing the mug that held my tea earlier I swung it and it hit him on the face landing a solid hit causing the mug to shatter against the left side of his face. Causing him to stumble the right, which i immediately followed up with a kick to the face that missed since I slipped on some drops of the tea that spilt when the mug broke. Catching myself from falling, I was able to push him down as he was trying to stand back up as he hit his face against the tough wooden flooring of the cafe a sickening crunch was heard. The empty shop was silent besides the heavy breathing of Mr.Rodgers, getting on one knee, and raising his head by his hair.

“You damn monsters thinking your superior to us, normal humans!” He said as blood pored from his obviously broken nose hatred in his eyes

“Unfortunately for you I’m just a human, I dumb normal human who didn’t know.” I whispered to him with a smile

A laugh escaped my lips as his eyes widen in shock at my statement. Know that no matter who he told they’d doubt him

“Oh and if I ever hear you talk shit about one of my friend or classmates, I’ll make sure you regret it. So I hope this makes you change your views on the Nevermore students. Since we’re 10 times more monstrous ” I said looking down at him with a smirk

“Now I hope we can put this behind us, and start on the right foot. Don’t forget to apologize to Mr.Galpin here. Sorry bout the nose.” I said as I pat his back and he just nods

“How much for the mug I destroyed?” I ask the cashier

With a surprised look “uh $4 bucks should be fine.” He replied not to sure what to say

“Sounds good I say as I put a ten on the counter. Take the change as a tip and sorry bout the mess.” I said as I turned to leave checking the time on my phone

“Oh thank you, please come again; don’t worry about the mess” He said smiling

As I made it out with 30 seconds left I made my way across and nodded towards the three boys, and motioned my head as for them to cross the road and join me

“Let’s not keep Ms.Weems waiting boys” I said as they patted my back

“That shit was dope man!!” Said Richard as slapped my back

“Ah shit that hurt you asshole!” I said while shoving him with my shoulder

“What did you tell him?” Asked Tommy

“Just that I hoped he would treat Nevermore students with respect, and that I’m a “normie” and I hoped we could put this all behind us. Oh and apologized for the broken nose.” I said as that last thing caused them to stop mid step and look at each other as I continued walking

“Oh man your rugged, where’d you learn to fight like that man?” Asked Richard excitedly

“Oh I just used to play a lot of MMA on the xbox 360 with my brothers and well play enough and having brothers you just start mimicking what you see and do in game.” I said laughing at the memories of my brother and I playing and play fighting

As we walked they just looked at me as if I’d grown a second head

“I look fine right?” I asked them

They just nodded still shocked at my earlier statement of where I had learned to fight. Ms.Weems was in her car waiting for us. I waved at her as we approached her car and got in. I was up front and the other three made there way to the back.

“So how was the trip?” Ms.Weems asked smiling

“It was fun I got a lamp and Blake ended up getting a couch for the dorm. We got tattoos and went to get something warm at the Weathervane.” I said smiling

“Oh that’s nice…. WAIT TATTOOS?!” She yelled while looking at us shocked as we just smiled and showed her

“Oh are you going to want to left over money back? I think I have like $100 bucks left.” I asked disregarding her worries about the tattoos

“No you can keep it, it is yours after all, I will be needing an explanation on the tattoos, so don’t think you’ve gotten away with it.” She stated looking at me

“When will your furniture be delivered?” She asked

“Tomorrow.” Blake stated

We pulled up to the school, thanking Ms.Weems as we exited the car and made our way to the dining hall to get some food. As we walked I noticed that Blake was to my right, Tommy to my left and Richard directly behind me, almost as if they were knights protecting a king. Causing me to smile, and make our way to the serving area and got our food I decided on some ground beef tacos with tomato, lettuce, cilantro,onion, salsa and sour cream. The others got more basic foods like two slices of cheese pizza for Richard, two chicken sandwiches for Blake and a grilled chicken salad for Tommy. As we all sat down and started to eat, I noticed Enid walking by and looking towards me so I wave at her and she does the same. At the same time I see Eugene walking with his food towards the exit.

“Eugene come and eat with us man!” I shout across the hall

He turns and walks towards us and sits down.

“This is Eugene guys, Eugene the guy with the werewolf ears is Blake my roommate, Richard is the one with the rabbit ears and Tommy is the one with the horns.” I said introducing them to one another

As the meal progressed Eugene started to open up more and more getting more comfortable as time passed. Talking more about himself and bees as we just listened and asked questions and joked around with one another. After an hour and a half of eating and conversation we decided to make our way to our dorms. As me and Blake enter our room we fall onto our beds exhausted from todays events. Then we realized we didn’t lock the door so we had to play paper, rock, scissors to see who would get up and I lost. Getting into my bed I fell asleep as soon as my head touched my pillow.

__________________________

Thank you for reading the second chapter of my book. 

There will be one more chapter that takes place prior to Wednesdays arrival and it's going to basically be the next day, then some school related things and probably building the relationships between Y/n, Enid and Xavier and possibly Rowan.

Or let me know if there's someone specific you may want to make a relationship with

#enid sinclair x male reader #wednesday addams x male reader #jenna ortega x male reader #wenclair x male reader #male reader

[adventures-for-drowsytown]

I can remember a lot of details!! :DD I didnt before, but once you asked it came to the forefront of my brain?? That happens a lot with this blog.

We didnt see a lot of their rooms but heres a list of what I remember:

I remember that Nibbly's room had a big fluffy carpet in the center of his room that I think was supposed to be an animal hide?? Maybe even one of his Sniggles?? Like as a dark joke the animators snuck in. He also had a bunch of second place trophies and one first place trophy (I think either on a shelf or a dressee?? I dont think it was a super consistent room. They probably changed em to fit what the needed). The room also had a big magenta dresser and a pink bed. I dont remember a lot more details but I remember the bedframe had a smiling mouth on it, and that he didnt have a window. Oh!! And he had one of those makeup/mirror things with the lights, idk what their called. A vanity, maybe?? Im not good with rembering the names of things. I think he had a stuffed animal somewhere.

I dont remember Tinky's room like AT ALL lol but I remember he had like. A racecar bed?? Or spaceship?? He had a funny bed. And he had some 3rd place trophies. Oh!! He had one of those carpets with the puzzle pattern, like in a daycare. It was a mess.

Pokey's room had a. A fainting couch?? A love seat?? One of those long couches. His was the cleanest room. He had one first place trophy displayed and a bunch of other ones shoved in a box in his closet. He had a window I THINK. He also had a vanity, but this one waa covered in jewelry. I dont remember what his bed looked like but he had a lot of clothes in his closet, and he had show posters on his wall that were all his own one-man productions. He also had bottles (??) In a cabinet.

Wiggly's room I... truly have no memory of. I remember he had a big desk and a big window and that he also had a racecar bed. He had a bunch of first place trophies on the wall and like two trophies broken in half in his trash??? Idk he was always my least favorite. Oh, wait. He also had a toy box overflowing with... stuff? again. I dont remember much of him lol

Blinky's room was always my FAVORITE I think it was the highest up. It had a biiiig window that you could see the town out of!! And he had a bunch of stars on his wall. He had a bunch of posters up too, and their eyes were highlighted and the affect was awesome. His bed also always looked the more comfortable to me LOL it was like in an alcove?? He had a balcony with a telescope and a bunch of notes on his wall above his bed- some of them where just scribbles but some of them where star charts!! :]] ANYways hes clearly my favorite.

And thats all I remember LOL we did not see these rooms nearly enough its such a shame...

And hey, idk if Im remembering this right, but wasnt one of Blinky's powers compelling people to tell him things??

Anyways, sorry for any typos. I gotta go eat lunch! :]

HELL YEA BURGER

all of these details are fascinating!! pokeys such a nerd about himself it seems. I remember the sniggle rug actually, but I always kinda just glossed over it whenever I watched a scene with his room. never really stuck. the bottle shad blue in them in plexus room right?

tinky sounds like an inferiority complex brewing. third place trophies LOL. wonder if the toybox got kept in his room most of time, but then again, i can’t recall any scenes where that cube wasn’t on his person somewhere.

mean to wiggly. do’nt be mean to wiggly!

blinky’s room DOES sound awesome you’re right. would love to See it someday. I don’t recall the compelling power fullly.. but i wouldn’t be surprised. he was always one to spur on drama, isn’t he?

#unreality #unreality cw

[carpisuns]

Love that you’re doing the WIP game!

1) is ‘all left’ like the AU where Adrien loses his right arm?

2) Weredad but longer?????

1. Yes that all left 💪 I was thinking about the AU at 3 am like a year ago and looking up all this stuff about amputee recovery and it made me cry shsjsj so I wrote this drabble thing and never finished. Here’s a bit of it.

White light spills in through the window of the hospital room. A heart monitor beeps next to him. He is alive. Alive and alone.

He feels off balance. His eyes squeeze shut again.

“Plagg?” he whispers.

“I’m here,” a voice murmurs somewhere by his left ear. “I’m right here.”

“Is Marinette okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, she’s okay.”

“Is my father okay?”

“He … he’s gone, Adrien. They took him away.”

“Am…” He swallows. “Am I okay?”

Plagg pauses. “Yeah. You’re okay.”

He already knows the answer but he can’t stop himself from asking, staring up at the ceiling without blinking.

“Is it gone?”

Another pause. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s gone.”

Cold dread courses through him and he suddenly feels like he’s going to throw up. He turns his head away.

“I don’t want to look.”

“You don’t have to look. It’s okay.”

“But I do have to look. I have to.”

“If you’re going to look, I’m right here, okay?”

“Okay.”

He looks. Everything in him freezes, he starts to cry.

2. I shared some about weredad but longer here but here’s another snippet:

Alya: Girl, since when have you been dating *chat noir*? And when we’re you gonna tell me?

Marinette: Since never! And I wasn’t! Because I’m not dating him.

A: So….what are all these rumors about?

M: I mean, my parents saw us together on my balcony and then they invited him over for brunch and—

A: Whoa, you’re already at the “meet the parents” stage?

M: (Groans) No.

A: So he didn’t meet your parents?

M: Ok, technically he met my parents, but—

A: —so you’re dating, yeah?

M: ….technically.

A: What’s that supposed to mean? Ooh wait, is it one of those fake-dating situation like in a juicy fanfic?

M: No!!!

A: I’m confused.

M: It was just—it was an accident!

A: You lost me.

M: Like, he just shows up on my balcony holding a baby and he’s like “Marinette?? What are you doing here??” So I said—

A: “I live here, weirdo”?

M: (Pauses) Not exactly

A: Ok so what

M: I think it was…..something along the lines of……

A: Yeah?

M: “I’m in love with you”?

A: (Blinks) you told him you were in love with him

M: Maybe.

A: Maybe?

M: Yes.

#ask #p-artsypants #wip game #wips #writing

[kokomochi]

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐃 | 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐲𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐳𝐮

"𝙞 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙢𝙮 𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙚."

SOULMATE AU! BONTEN TIMELINE! they say that soulmates were typically connected through the red string of fate- some believe that they are connected through tattoos appearing on their skin, or even a timer on their wrist. in this story, however, is through glowing hair. bonten's executive, haruchiyo sanzu, never thought that he would be soulmates with the youngest sibling of the notorious haitani brothers.

06. bonding DISCLAIMER: slight violence and death

"you're not joining your brothers inside?"

sanzu stepped out to the balcony, raising his brows at the (h/c) haired girl who was busy daydreaming about whatever.

y/n hummed as she looked at him from behind, smiling at him and motioning for him to join her.

"i couldn't follow along with their topics so i decided to take a breather." sanzu leaned beside her, observing her as she gazed at the stars.

"how about you? you're an executive as well right?" she didn't look away from the stars as sanzu stepped closer to her, looking at the section of pink hair on her head.

"i'll just have koko tell me everything later."

comfortable silenced enveloped the two. sanzu having to sneak glances at the girl as she closed her eyes and sighed with a smile on her face.

he took out his cigarettes and offered one to her, y/n refusing as she turned to look at him.

the man rose his brows at her again, but shrugged and kept the rest of his nicotine as he lit one up.

"y'know, you're like a different person from before." he commented, making her look at him in accusation.

"what was that suppose to mean?"

"a while ago you were all psycho. killing that man with no hesitation- you even got that smile on your face when you did it." he pinched her cheeks, making her blush as she attempted to bite his hand.

"hey-! just because i liked killing those pigs doesn't mean i do other illegal stuff okay?" sanzu gave her an unamused stare as his eyes locked onto her hair.

"so, we're soulmates huh?" he began, twirling her hair in between his fingers as y/n took the cigarette from him and puffing out smoke.

"seems like it." she gave him another one of her smiles that made his heart speed up.

he really doesn't know what to do- the concept of having soulmates never really crossed his mind until he was in his early twenties.

"sanzu-?"

"haruchiyo, or haru."

y/n looked at him in amusement for a moment, before turning into a look of adoration as it was her turn to pinch his cheeks.

"let's go out tomorrow?" she proposed, taking her hand off his cheeks as he playfully glared at her.

"sure."

y/n stood in front of a random cafe as she waited for sanzu. she was all prepped and dressed for the occasion.

she didn't put any effort into her clothing- simple cargo pants, a tube top and boots.

her brothers find it convenient for her to wear something where she can fight easily in just in case someone decided to approach her or kidnap her.

she knew her brothers meant well, and she respected that. but when they tried to sneak a gun into her bag? that's where she needed to draw the line.

people walked by her table as she scrolled through her phone, still waiting for sanzu. it wasn't her fault she got here an hour early- if she didn't then ran would definitely find a way to sneak weapons into her bag.

y/n minded her own business- just looking through her friend's posts and also some online shopping for her outfit on saturday.

suddenly, a honk of a car was heard as she looked up.

a bright red ferrari stopped right beside her as the window rolled down- showing a very unfamiliar man who looked too high to be driving.

"hey pretty lady~ neat ride i've got right?"

she visibly cringed. in all her life with her brothers- she had definitely seen some cars much better than the classic old school red ferrari.

y/n gave him a fake smile as she went back on her phone. her ignorance made the man inside the car honk even more- not only to catch her attention, but he also successfully caught the attention of the by-passers.

"hey! come 'n get in the car sweet cheeks i promise to give you a good time-" suddenly, a gun was pointed in his face as a pink-haired man with frosty blue eyes glared at him.

sanzu finally arrived.

he was expecting to see his partner to be patiently waiting for him with no complications- but seeing that a nasty bitch was trying to get her, he just had to butt in.

sanzu was leaning beside the passenger side door, making it seem like he was having a casual talk with the driver.

when in reality, he had a revolver pointed at his face as he tauntingly caressed the trigger.

"now what do we have here?" he gave him a grin, his scars adding to the threat as he lazily looked at the driver who looked like he just peed his pants.

y/n, who was now walking up to them, looked through the window and waved at the driver.

"haru, this driver told me that i'd have a great time if i get in his car." she mockingly pointed at the poor man with a grin, pouting as she looked at sanzu.

"this pig wanted me to get into his nasty ass car." sneering, sanzu opened the door to the car and got in- still pointing the gun at the man.

"baby please be a dear and get in the backseat. we're going to have a detour before our date." he said, making y/n get into the car and leaned forward.

"where we goin'?"

"get out of my ca-!" y/n placed a hand on his mouth as she put a finger to her lips, signaling him to shut up.

"oi pig, drive." sanzu instructed, having to point the gun on the poor man's lower region to not be suspected by the outside world.

the driver, who is now more than sober, recognized sanzu and immediately drove away, having to follow his instructions as to where to go.

"haruchiyo, are you going to kill this man?" y/n stated, looking out the window bored out of her mind as the car stopped in front of an abandoned warehouse.

sanzu leaned back to smile at her, before making the driver leave the car.

"you've read my mind sweetheart. now get out of the car and watch okay?" his demeanor suddenly changed as he made the driver walk inside the warehouse, y/n following behind him.

"now, what did you just say to y/n?" his voice sent shivers down his spine, eyes going to y/n who only looked at the scene with curious eyes.

"i-i told her that we-" the poor man didn't get to finish his sentence when sanzu pulled the trigger, successfully killing him in one shot.

the strawberry head sighed as he walked back to y/n, who pinched him on the cheeks.

"this wasn't my ideal first date- but it's nice seeing people in pain." sanzu wrapped his arm around her waist as he guided her back to the car the man once owned. thankfully the keys were still there so they didn't need to inspect the body for it.

"i don't really mind. i look at this as a great bonding activity."

the two got in the car as sanzu drove them to their first destination. after spending thirty minutes dealing with the pig, he decided to drive them to a restaurant.

"i'm glad we have something to agree on."

TAGLIST (OPEN) : @minnieminnie00-got7

#haruchiyo sanzu #sanzu haruchiyo #akashi haruchiyo #haruchiyo akashi #sanzu haruchiyo x reader #haruchiyo sanzu x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers angst

[nirikeehan]

Hello! This Friday I'm thinking "you can take this mouth, this wound you want, but you can't kiss and make it better.” (Daphne Gottlieb) as a Midjourney prompt? (not sure what it will come up with for that, but maybe it'll be something cool) For Blackwall/Thalia Trevelyan maybe?

I loved this quote! If fits them so well. I had to replace "wound" with "injury" in the prompt, because "wound" was a banned word, but here is what Midjourney gave me. I'm going to link to the image here because it might look disturbing to some, though it is highly stylized.

Anyway, here is some angst... and a sequel to this.

For @dadrunkwriting

WC: 1388

CW: Discussion of major character death, implied addiction and overdose

---

The cups of tea steam on the table between them, untouched. He waits for her to speak. The rain pounds the roof overhead, a steady monotone.

The words come in fits and starts. The tears have dried, but she seems dazed, exhausted. He knows what that feels like, the tight knot of grief inside. Even now it twinges from time to time, though he’s had decades to grow accustomed to it.

Thalia chews her lip, searches for more to say. Her mouth looks raw, almost bloody, from the worrying she’s done to it over time. Thom wishes he did not put the table between them. He wants to kiss her bruised lips and hold her close, though he worries she would scoff at proffered comfort, find him crude and opportunistic. 

He is crude and opportunistic. He must stay the instinct, for her sake.

She gazes out the back window, watching the rain. They’re in the main hall, which stretches the length of the townhouse’s ground floor. He built the long wooden table himself. Behind her is the large stone hearth. He’s debated starting a fire, but the chill of the outside is kept at bay, for now. 

“It isn’t your fault,” he says into the silence. 

Thalia jerks her head toward him, as if remembering he’s there. She flashes a pained smile. “Isn’t it, though?”

“No.” A low anger stirs in his gut. He feels furious at a dead man for doing this to her, struggles to keep his tone civil. “It’s a sickness, as I understand. Like drink. I’ve watched men drown themselves in it.” He thought he might be one of those men, a few times in his life. 

“It’s different,” she argues. “He was thirteen when they took him. Eighteen when they put the stuff in his hands. He never had a choice.” 

He’s not sure how to explain that he doesn’t see a difference. Whether the Commander picked up a bottle on a whim or as part of a sanctioned ritual, the results were the same. 

“I’m sorry,” Thom says quietly. “I truly am. But I don’t see how blaming yourself is going to do any good.” 

“I was his wife, Thom,” she snaps. “I was supposed to—to—” 

“Save him?”  

Thalia looks stricken. “Yes.”

He stifles a mean chuckle. “Some men can’t be saved, my lady. Think it was me who tried to teach you that, once upon a time.”

“Yes, well, you did a terrible job of it.” Without length to weigh it down, her hair is wavy.  She dips her head over the teacup and the shorn locks brush her cheeks. He wants to draw them away from her face, to kiss the exposed skin beneath.

He stands, on the pretense of making sure the window is shut tight. He puts his back to her, rattles the pane. In the alley outside two soaked children run by, hand in hand, barefoot and laughing. He forces himself to focus on them, innocent and unknowing, and not the woman sitting behind him, on the furniture he crafted with his own hands. When the rain lets up, he’ll show her to the door.  

“You’ve done quite well for yourself,” Thalia observes. He sneaks a peak over his shoulder. She gazes upward, at the stately chandelier and polished wooden balcony on the second floor. “The largest mercenary company in Markham, I was told. Made up entirely of former prisoners.” 

“That’s the thing about jails — they’re full of people rethinking their lives.” Thom speaks lightly, though in truth he’s fiercely proud of what he’s built. “Most are just looking for a way back to honest work, somebody to give them another chance, without judgment or ridicule.”

He turns, and she’s watching him, solemn but intent. He settles his weight against the window, gripping the frame. 

“And none of them would be here if I’d left you for the noose,” Thalia murmurs.

He swallows painfully. “That is true.” 

She inclines her head. “So why could I save you, and not Cullen?”

“That’s not a fair question to ask yourself, my lady. You’ll go mad trying to answer it.” 

She smirks, as if he made a joke. She bows her head again, runs a nail of her good hand along the polished whorls of the table. “Maybe I already have. Maybe that’s why I’m here. I kept telling myself it was foolish, that I couldn’t just show up out of the blue and dump all this on you— you’ve got other things to worry about, clearly. But I just…” 

He’s crossed the space to her before she can finish the thought. He would kneel at her feet, if that’s what she desired. But he recalls the dance they used to do, and does not want to frighten her away. Thom pulls out the chair and sits beside her, places his palm face down on the tabletop, fingers close but not touching hers. “You can stay here as long as you need.” 

Her eyes grow wide. “Stay— here?” 

He wonders what she intended, if not this. Maybe she truly believed she would stop by, stay at an inn, and be on her way. You were never going to let her leave, jeers a voice inside his head. 

“I’ve an extra room, for guests,” Thom adds quickly. “It won’t be anything you don’t want it to be.” 

Her cheeks grow pink. “It would be a scandal, no matter what we intend. A widow and an unmarried man under one roof? I don’t want to damage your reputation—”

He lets out a hearty laugh. “My reputation? In the eyes of the Maker and men, one does not get worse than what I’ve already been named.”

“In Orlais,” Thalia counters. “I’ve heard that you command a strong presence here in Markham. The Man in Black, isn’t that what they call you?”

“It is, but I’m still not nobility. I’m a mercenary captain, no more. Our association would hurt you more than it would me.” It pains him to admit this, but it does not deter him. “The Free Marches follow the beat of their own drum, however. A lady from Ostwick holds lesser sway here than in her own city. You may be able to slip by unnoticed.” 

She raises her eyebrows. “You think so? Even a lady who led the Inquisition?” 

“The Inquisition is several years gone, my lady,” he reminds her gently. “Its memory is fading. Surely you must have noticed.” 

Thalia worries her lip again, a distant look in her eyes. 

“I have always wanted to see Markham,” she says. 

Thom stifles the old feeling of triumph that comes when his charm works on a woman. She’s grieving. It’s wholly inappropriate to insert yourself in her life, so soon after… 

But hasn’t she been the one to seek him out? 

“It’s a lovely city,” he says, with the enthusiasm of a tour guide. “Our university is the most prestigious in all the Marches.” Not that someone like him has stepped foot inside those hallowed halls, but Thalia has always possessed a scholarly inclination. “And the Grand Tourney is approaching…” 

“The one you won?” Her expression brightens. 

He chuckles. “Just the melee. A long time ago.” 

“Still.” Her voice becomes animated. “When I was a girl, I wished to go so badly. My father always promised I could when I was old enough, but then, once I got sent to the Circle…” 

“Then it’s a good thing you got here when you did,” Thom says, before she can lose herself in another bad memory. “It will be here in less than a moon’s turn.” 

He knows he’s got her. For a few weeks at least. 

Thalia places her palm over his tenderly. “Thank you, Thom.”

Savor this moment. It may be just as fleeting as all the others. He thinks of the kiss in her quarters at Skyhold, desperate and firm, before she sent him away. And again, after the Exalted Council, when she tasted like the salt of the tears on her face, when he believed it to be over for good. 

Not this time, says the pounding of his heart against his ribcage. This time she’s mine. 

“Of course, my lady.” He wraps his large hand over her thin fingers and gives them a squeeze. “Anything for you.” 

#blackwall x trevelyan #thalia trevelyan #blackwall #ANGST #heavy angst #yeah i am really gunning for the most depressing scenario here aren't i #fics #dragon age drunk writing circle #midjourney #kingdom come au

[the-chains-are-the-easy-part]

Dream 1

This is a very strange day. Woke up after this dream with a feeling in my chest and I had to spill it out somewhere for my own good. This is very personal, about a person who is not in my life anymore, but keeps coming back now and then. This is a strange day, full of white light and ghosts. I can feel them around me, lingering, weighing on my soul. I hope this helps me to pass through this strange day.

—

I had a dream last night, I was in my middle school and you were in class with me. Once it was over, I caught up with you in an empty corridor. You were leaving. I stopped you because I wanted to talk to you, but of course you were reluctant and cold. I complimented you on your band’s tour. You thanked me with a lot of detachment and then left. I felt disappointed, I wish you weren't like that. Then the day ended, we were all leaving, but I lingered, partly because I had stuff to do, partly because I hoped to see you again. And for some reason, you approached me and, a little annoyed, dragged me away because you knew deep down that I was waiting for you, you even said it and I didn’t say anything to deny it.

You accompanied me along the tree-lined street, we talked about this and that. You told me about your house and your roommates who make a mess and smoke like crazy; after all, it seems like the ideal condition for someone like you. The house seems a bit run-down from the way you talk about it, but you seem to be comfortable there. At the end of the street, where we should part ways, without even agreeing to it, I come home with you. We keep walking and arrive in a huge white paved square. There are huge baroque-style buildings that look like churches or royal manors, ancient, it seems like to go back in time. Everything is so white, even the sky. This place gives off a very solemn vibe, like it was made for kings and queens. I'm amazed that your house, which from the way you described it seemed like a shack, could be located in such an area, but there it is. Just around a corner, behind an opulent and richly decorated building, a more modest one stands out, like a common working-class building from the 70s: gray, a bit sad, especially when compared to the surrounding architecture, clearly inhabited by ordinary people, those people who hang their laundry on the balcony and talk to each other from the windows.

We head towards the entrance, and I notice a crowd in front of the door and you say to me "The worst thing about living here is having to cross a pastry shop at lunchtime after school." and indeed, I realize that the crowd is there because of a luxury pastry shop that sells all kinds of sweets, the kind of cakes and pastries that you see on cooking shows and that give you the feeling of being fake because of how complex and rich the decorations are. In fact, that place is much more suitable for the wealth of the buildings in the piazza. Anyway, we finally arrive at the entrance to the apartment building inside the shop, a sort of bouncer is guarding it. You show him a badge, and we enter. We climb the stairs and finally arrive at the apartment. It's not a shack at all; it's a spacious apartment that develops over several levels, full of small stair ramps that lead to the various staggered rooms. The apartament is mostly white. White, again. "Luckily, the guys have tidied up a bit" and indeed, in the first rooms, the kitchen and living room, everything seems clean and tidy, but just a glance in the other rooms reveals the traces of many post-adolescent males living together. Despite the apartment exuding a certain sense of wealth, mostly given by some dark wooden furniture and a few white leather sofas, it's clear that whoever lives there doesn't fit into a category of wealthy people. The furniture, although of a certain quality, is few and far between and arranged in such a way as to optimize the space. Almost every room has a -messy- bed, even though the room clearly wasn’t supposed to be a bedroom. It's evident that young people who live there have simply made the most of the resources, and given the number of beds, I realize how they can afford such a large apartment in an affluent neighborhood. We continue the tour, probably chatting and making small talk. I roll the worst cigarette in the world and you also smoke, probably weed. The atmosphere is relaxed despite everything and I feel at ease. I feel like I can breathe a sigh of relief after this interaction, and after struggling up the various flights of stairs and stumbling a lot -probably for some strange and dreamlike reason, like when you run in dreams but can't move forward-, I finally say goodbye. All I know is that the dream ends with you sending me a message or telling me in person, it's not clear, maybe it wasn't even part of the dream and I added it in my half-asleep state, but you were telling me that what had happened didn't change things.

This dream was stangely clear, rich in details and visual perceptions that made me wake up with a weird feeling, as if I had really talked to you, and of course followed by a certain melancholy in realizing that all this was just the product of my imagination. Because in the end, a part of me just wants this, to meet after school, roll a terrible cigarette -like that day in Turin, remember?- and talk nonsense without any intention. Just talking, relaxed, as if nothing had ever happened between us, as if there had never been love and pain. I wish I could feel like I’ve felt in your apartament, or in that opulent square: no big expectations, no overwhelming feelings, like nothing was missing, like we weren’t waiting for more. I would like to experience that feeling of whiteness again. For real. With you.

#dreams #chains dreams #personal post

[stories-by-rie]

Hello, yes I did a thing during class this morning. It’s supposed to be the Faery Oak from In the Land of Twilight and, yes, it’s missing the faeries. Please add them in your mind <3

Faeries are thumb-sized and the whole hive of them lives in this oak that’s basically hollow from the inside (it’s magic shh). So the proportions aren’t right of course but I thought it still brings across the general idea.

#writeblr #faeries #without the faeries because i can't draw humans and stuff #also i know this is very flawed but #*gestures vaguely* #i put an extra grainy filter over it so that you can't spot the mistakes i think it was a big brain move #also my scanner didn't work so i had to take a photo with my phone and tremors hehe #those are supposed to be balconies and windows and stuff #personally i like the spiral slide best and the narrow leaf plant #yes i did google 'how to draw tree tops' #i will stop rambling now bye #pls don't judge me i am fragile

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

A new servant desperately struggles to understand what exactly Merlin is:

A cryptid? Arthur's boyfriend? Simply a dude? The court jester? Something else entirely? Who knows, certainly not the new guy.

The first time the new kitchen-hand, Tristan, saw The King’s dark-haired servant sprinting down the corridor, he couldn’t tell if the man was laughing or crying.

He was fast, faster than Tristan thought possible for someone whose arms were so full of laundry, but he politely steps out of the way, coming to the conclusion that he must’ve been late for something. At least... he did think that, until he turns the next corner to see three of The king’s most trusted knights peering out of windows and into random doors. Tristan freezes in the corridor, he’d heard that servants were treated extremely well here, but he’d only been employed for a few days and he didn’t want to risk anything by pushing past or addressing his betters.

One of the knights, Sir Leon, his brain helpfully supplies, spots him stood there, and his annoyed frown quickly morphs into a friendly smile:

“Pardon me, sorry, I don’t suppose you’ve seen Merlin around anywhere, have you?”

Tristan’s eyes go wide and the grip he has on his tray tightens, but he forces himself to take a breath and answer, trying his best to keep his voice even:

“Merlin is... The King’s manservant? Tall, with dark hair?”

Another knight pushes forward, he looks to be the oldest, with dark hair falling in an almost deliberately tousled way around his bearded jawline. His charming grin seems just a little too wide to be genuine, but Tristan isn’t quite sure if that’s because he’s about to take pleasure in punishing someone, or if he’s just being polite to a stranger:

“Yeah, yeah that’s him, seen him? Arsehole turned our shirts pink in the wash, and something tells me it was deliberate.”

Tristan gulps at the accusation and he takes a shaky step back, but before he can even think of defending the stranger that he now thinks must’ve been crying, the last of the three knights, a giant, if Tristan believed in such things, steps forward:

“Don’t worry, we won’t beat him too much.” 

He says it with a grin and a quirk of his eyebrows, but once again the kitchen-hand can’t tell if it was cruel or genuine, if he was being sarcastic or not.

“Uh... yeah, he turned left at the end of this corridor, but I didn’t see where he went after that, I apologise.”

Sir Leon waves away his apology with a smile, looking to the long-haired knight with a raised eyebrow:

“The stables?”

The man grins widely, nodding his agreement as he turns his grin to the giant. Sir Leon offers Tristan another soft smile, murmuring his thanks before moving past him, elbowing the other two to prompt them in to thanking him as well. The three of them march down the corridor with almost vindictive smiles on their faces, and Tristan prepares himself to see a vacancy note, or possibly a funeral invite, posted on the notice board by the next morning.

When he passes a window that evening to see the King’s manservant being carried on the giant’s shoulders as five other knights pelt them with gloves, a grin on every face, he decides that... well... it’s probably best to just not to ask.

~

The next time he sees Merlin, a few days later, The King is also there.

This is the first time Tristan has been in Arthur Pendragon’s presence, and though the other servant’s all rave on about how awkwardly kind he is, he’s a bundle of nerves. Not even Cook’s stories about how often she whacks The King’s knuckles with a wooden spoon when she catches him about to pilfer something stops Tristan’s heart from racing. 

The King was overseeing a few of the servants decorate the main hall for a feast, and whilst Tristan is certain that that’s not something The King normally does, he doesn’t question it, just thinks that maybe the other servants had been telling the truth, and he was a genuinely nice, but normal man. 

Merlin stands at his side, and though Tristan can’t hear their conversation, the two of them are clearly bickering over something. The servant can’t help his curiosity, wanting desperately to move closer to find out what sort of things The King allows his servant to bicker with him about; luckily, the table right next to them has yet to be laid, so he moves towards it quickly. He doesn’t even glance at them, terrified of being caught out, but perhaps Merlin surviving the knights non-wrath the other day is encouraging him, and his steps don’t falter. Their words come in to focus, and he has to stop the confused, and slightly horrified, frown from spreading across his face:

“Arthur, I swear to the Gods, if you make me wear that hat again, I’ll piss in your wine and serve it to you in front of a crowd.”

The King scoffs just as Tristan shakily begins laying down the cutlery:

“That’s treason, Merlin.”

“Do I look like I care? Not only will I piss in your wine, I will not hesitate to push you over a balcony at the first opportunity. This hall is high up and it’s a long way down to the gardens. He drank toxic wine and turned loopy and tipped himself off a balcony and went splat! That’s what people will say. I’m not wearing the Godamn hat.”

Tristan has to focus extra carefully to stop himself from gasping; Merlin just threatened to kill The King... that’s got to be a death sentence. Pissing off some knights that he’s obviously friendly with is one thing, but threatening to kill The-

“Ha ha. Very funny. If you can’t tell, Merlin, I’m being sarcastic, I know you struggle with complex concepts like that.”

Merlin just rolls his eyes, crossing his arms as he says with no hesitation:

“My mind is more than capable of coping, My Lord, it’s your belt I worry about being able to cope nowadays.”

Tristan bites his tongue to stop himself from yelping and turns away so neither of them can see his horrified face. The King just makes an outraged noise in the back of his throat, and Tristan can hear Merlin snort in laughter at whatever expression Arthur was wearing to match such a noise:

“Go to the stocks. I want you there for three hours.”

Tristan lets out a confused breath; Merlin threatens to kill The King, and gets playful sarcasm, but he implies The King might be a tad overweight, and gets sent to the stocks for three hours? How is that-

“Yeah... no. Not happening. The feast starts in less than two hours and I still have to help Guinevere organise some stuff in the courtyard, do Gaius’ rounds for him, then put an extra hole in your belt and help you get dressed because, despite being a grown man, you’re still an idiot who’s incapable of putting clothes on in any sort of decent manner.”

Tristan finds himself relaxing a little. This seems to be the norm for them, but surely... surely The King had a line somewhere, and a servant just flat out refusing to be disciplined must be where it lies?

Arthur just scoffs, and Tristan angles his head in such a way that he can see him roll his eyes:

“Fuck off.”

Merlin grins, seeming to cast a suspicious gaze over the room to make sure no one was watching and somehow completely missing Tristan stood just there, before saying quietly:

“You love me really, you prat.”

With that, Merlin reaches up to yank at a lock of The King’s hair before hurrying off in the direction of the courtyard before Arthur can react. The King jumps slightly, clearly caught by surprise as an annoyed flush rises on his face, but Tristan just frowns in confusion when his shock gives way to a softly amused smile.

Huh.

~

The next few times Tristan saw Merlin made him fear for the servant’s safety. He was being taken on hunts by The King and his knights, that’s meant to be for squires, to learn the ropes and gain experience in tracking and riding. 

He supposes it isn’t entirely unheard of for a servant to follow their master on a hunt, but with the way Merlin complains without pause, and The King in turn complains about his complaining, he thinks it would better for everyone if Merlin just... didn’t go. When he brings it up to another servant, a lovely woman named Guinevere who had helped him get unlost at least three times in his first week, she just laughs and smiles at him pityingly:

“I wouldn’t worry, those two have been like that forever, they’re practically inseparable.”

Tristan responds with a rather intelligent sounding:

“...What?”

Gwen laughs softly again, shaking her head and patting his shoulder consolingly:

“You’ll get used to it, they’re just... like that.”

She gives him one more smile before turning to wave the boys out of the gates and walking back to the castle as if this were the most normal thing in the world. Tristan supposes that it probably is.

The next time Tristan sees Merlin leave the city gates with the knights, Sir Elyan, Sir Mordred, and Sir Lancelot this time, it’s distinctly worse. Because he’d caught sight of the patrol rota last time he ran food down to the training ground, and he was certain that those three had a city patrol right about now.

Before he even has time to gape in shock, he hears Merlin’s pleading voice as he trails Sir Elyan like a lost puppy:

“Please, El, I promise to stay out of the way, I will do anything, but I swear to the Gods if I have to spend one more minute around that prat, I’ll hurl myself from the battlements.”

Swearing to the Gods and threating to hurl various people, including himself, from significant heights seems to be some sort of theme for The King’s manservant. Before Tristan can consider the implications of that, Sir Elyan turns to Merlin with a wide, teasing grin on his face:

“You know, I would’ve let you tag along for free, Merlin, but now that you’ve promised me something I feel the need to take advantage.”

Tristan tenses at that, a shot of ice spiking down his spine. He has keen eyes and sharp ears, he knows that Sir Elyan is the lovely Gwen’s brother, Sir Mordred seems to have an... odd worship for the servant, and he’s definitely picked up on the close bond between Merlin and Sir Lancelot, but is this where Camelot’s image comes crashing down in Tristan’s head? He knew that it was better here for servant’s than other Kingdoms, but there are always people who’ll take advantage of their position, no matter where you are. Merlin’s shoulders just drop and he asks in a sulking voice:

“What do you want?”

Tristan grits his teeth, moving his gaze so no one would catch him glaring at the knight as he tries to figure out a way to help, a way to get this virtual stranger out of being... abused, in such a manner. If he’d carried on glaring, he would’ve noticed Elyan’s soft smile and amused raised eyebrow:

“Next time you gather herbs for Gaius, bring back some more of those flowers that you got for Gwen. She said they added vibrancy to the house, whatever that means, but they make her happy, so...-”

Merlin just giggles and nods and Tristan relaxes, looking back to them with a confused smile on his face. That was... actually kind of sweet, he can definitely see the resemblance between the knight and his sister:

“-AND I want whatever Arthur’s having for dinner tonight, his food always looks way nicer than ours.”

Merlin lets out a faux annoyed groan, but then rolls his eyes and grins, nodding:

“Consider it done. Can we go now? I really don’t want to risk him seeing me and giving me some stupid chore to do.”

Elyan laughs and nods, and the four of them begin making their way out of the courtyard and into the city. Sir Lancelot finally joins the conversation, clearly amused as he says:

“You know it’s literally your job to do chores, right?”

Merlin turns to glare at him as Sir Mordred and Sir Elyan laugh, and Tristan only just hears his reply as the castle gates shut behind them:

“Fuck off.”

Tristan decides it would be pointless to bring this up to anyone again, he figures he’ll probably just get the same answer as last time.

~

The next confusing incident happens only a few days later. But Tristan supposes that at this point... it really shouldn’t be confusing. Gwen was right, he did just... get used to it.

He heard the steps pounding down the corridor before he saw him, but they were coming fast and hard, so he presses himself against the wall, holding the tray to his side to protect it as best he could as Merlin comes skidding round the corner. 

He stops just long enough for Tristan to calm himself by spying the wide grin on his face, but he’s quickly sprinting down the hall again, laughing as he waves whatever it is he’s got clutched in his hands. The second set of loud, rapid footsteps stops Tristan from stepping away from the wall quite yet. Just a moment later, Sir Gwaine follows Merlin’s skidded path around the corner, though the heavier man overshoots slightly and he runs into the wall opposite Tristan with a crash and a deep groan.

The rebellious knight gives a wide-eyed Tristan an awkward nod before pushing himself off the wall and following Merlin’s blazing trail, screaming down the corridor:

“I warned you Merlin!! Don’t come between a man and his ale, now give that back you bastard!”

Tristan hears Merlin’s laughter grow louder, even from the two corridors away that the other servant had managed to race to.

He shrugs to himself, waiting for a moment to see if anyone else was going to come barrelling around the corner before sighing, and continuing his journey up to the visiting Lord’s chambers.

It was unusual, he thought, how quickly he’d come to terms with the fact that a servant was sassing The King and pranking the knights and inviting himself on various hunts and patrols that he really had no business on. Unusual indeed.

~

He’d learnt to ignore it. Or at least brush it off.

In the two weeks since Merlin had (presumably) stolen Sir Gwaine’s skin of ale, he’d seen the servant call The King a long list of imaginative insults (what the hell is a dollop head?), walk around with Sir Leon’s cloak on because he was a little chilly, accuse someone of treason (and somehow been right about it), and threaten to kill at least seven people; including, but not limited to: The King himself, The King’s already dead father, some stuck up Noble (though that was under his breath, Tristan just happened to be stood next to him), and Sir Percival.

And Gwen was... absolutely right. He's just... like that. He's Merlin, and that’s what Merlin does.

So when he turns a corner in a rarely used to corridor to see him pressing The King against a wall, snogging the life out of him, Tristan simply turns around and walks back the other way. Both of them look fairly happy with the arrangement, and they’d probably chosen this corridor for the exact same reason Tristan had: it was out of everyone’s way, and was unlikely to be inhabited.

He thinks it’s odd, how... un-odd he finds it. He absent-mindedly thinks that, with the way they acted around each other, he really should’ve seen this coming. A sudden thought occurs to him, and he ducks into a storage cupboard, laying his tray down carefully as he rummages through the boxes. He lets out a quiet “Yay” when he finds what he’s looking for, carefully picking up his tray with only one hand and nudging the door open again with his hip. 

He walks back towards the corner he had just turned (and turned again) making a conscious effort to keep his steps quiet; he places the danger sign, usually used where walls had collapsed or windows had been smashed, in the middle of the corridor, a clear indication of “Do Not Enter”.

He nods smugly at his quick thinking and easy handy work before mentally planning the quickest route to the kitchens and following it hurriedly.

He casually wonders if he has time to circle around to the other end of the corridor so he could put another sign down before Cook gets angry at him for being late. Probably not. At least, not before they... finish up and move on. Hmm. He suddenly panics about the thought of them seeing the sign and knowing that someone had spotted them but... well. Hopefully they would just appreciate it and move on.

Yet again, he decides not to bring this up to anyone. He may or may not have overheard a few of the knights making some sort of bet, and he may or may not want to watch on with amusement as they fail to realise that all of them have already lost.

Tristan smiles to himself; working here had turned out to be rather entertaining, in the end.

~

THE END

I know it’s short, but I really didn’t know what else to add without it sounding like I was just repeating myself over and over😅

I hope y’all enjoyed it!!

#merthur #merthur crack #bbc merlin #merlin #arthur pendragon #emrys #merlin/arthur #knights #the knights of camelot #knights of the round table #sir leon #leon #sir percival #percival #sir lancelot #lancelot #sir elyan #elyan #sir gwaine #gwaine #mordred #good mordred #sir mordred #gaius #gwen #guinevere #merlins just like that #merlin is a top #no matter how much arthur denies it #crack

[laos-soft-bunny]

Bite Me.

Erron Black

(Vampire Erron, based on a dream I had, deaths of unnamed characters,)

——————

Erron’s eyes roamed across the empty house, his ears were filled with the sound of a heart beat. Someone was where they weren’t supposed to be. Erron closed his eyes and tilted his head slightly to the left, he was tracking footsteps. Groaning softly he tossed his gun and hat onto the couch after he opened his eyes again. “Don’t play around my house..” Erron taunted softly before he went to the window, red eyes sweeping the land. He was still and calm until he seen a shadow lurking in the trees. His hand went to the door handle and he pulled it open before he jumped off the balcony toward the shadow. He was fast and he tackled the shadow, pinning it down to the ground below, his brain clouded by thoughts of worry and the heartbeat again. He was still the newest of the black dragon vampire clan. His eyes bore down into the eyes of your own. You had gotten lost on the trail and seen a house. It was getting late and you couldn’t find your way back. Now you were pinned down and you were panicking. Erron smirked softly under his mask. “Welcome darlin.. you are in danger..” Erron whispered into your ear as he leaned down and his mask brushed your throat. He brought his hand up to pull his mask down, when you tried to free yourself, he pinned both of your hands down with his one. His hands were huge compared to yours. His lips pressed right to the spot on your throat where he could feel how fast your heart was beating and he moaned softly.

Your eyes were frozen in fear as Erron placed soft kisses there, whimpering and begging him please don’t hurt you. Erron’s teeth dragged across your throat and his tongue lapped at the small cut he had made. You cried out and began to cry. Erron quickly switched which hand had you pinned down and brought his left to softly cradle your cheek. “I’m hungry.. not a rapist.. or serial killer..I do have a little bit of restraint..” Erron whispered into your ear, his hot breath was forcing you into shivers. “Don’t cry darlin.. please I’m not the devil..” Erron’s voice eventually got you soothed a little. Erron’s eyes met yours, his red though scary, showed a decent amount of respect. “If you weren’t so fragile and beautiful I would have killed you.” Erron admitted before he looked away for a moment. “I’m sorry.. I’m Erron Black..” Erron said speeding up with you in his arms. He set you down gently. You told him your name, and how you got lost. Truth be told he knew a lot of people got lost and got lead here, but there was something attracting both of you.

Erron’s hand returned to your cheek gently and he whispered “would you like to stay?” His own words caught him off guard. He didn’t understand why he was feeling so strongly connected to you. You nodded softly and looked down. “I’m sorry. I should have been paying attention where I was going.. I don’t want to invade your personal space..” you whispered and sighed softly, Turing away from him. “Darling. Stay.” He demanded softly and his hand gripped your chin. You looked at him and gave a soft nod of okay, before you allowed Erron to take you inside. “Are you hungry?” Erron asked softly, his eyes holding yours. “A little” you responded, setting at the table Erron led you to. Erron started cooking, and you watched him. It was like love at first sight but it was so much stronger. For once a human wasn’t just a play thing or food for Erron. Your eyes watched his arms and back move when he grabbed stuff out of the cabinets above him. He looked so strong. Your heart beat finally steadied and it didn’t distract every thought Erron had for a moment. He smirked softly because he could hear you thinking about his strong arms and him in general. “Those thoughts of yours are what might get you in trouble..” Erron teased softly, causing you to full on blush.

Erron brought you a plate of food and set it down, sitting across from you, he smiled, and finally took off his mask completely. You don’t remember him fixing it but now it was off and he threw it with such speed it made your head snap up. Low and behold it landed on the couch, along side his gun and hat. His features showed age and wisdom, but something about him was so young. Probably the fact he was only 27. But you wouldn’t have said anything. Erron watched you and you ate the food down, it was delicious. “Do you not eat?” You asked when you looked up and realized he had nothing for himself. “I do.. I’m just on a different.. diet..” Erron coughed on the last word a bit and he looked away. You decided not to question it much further.. for now.

Before he could strike up conversation again a window was shattered from upstairs. Erron had sped off so fast that the chair fell backwards and cold air filled the room. You watched, now you were terrified. A giant man stepped through the front door and the smell of human hit his nose and he smirked. You winced and seen the way he was looking at you. Erron’s thoughts began to race with yours and before you could blink again, Kano was behind your back, his hand around your throat and he sniffed the air. “Ah fuckin hell.. Erron brought a snack..” Erron dragged the dead body down the stairs and threw it into the living room before he was over to you. “Put her down.. now.. Kano” Erron was face to face with the larger man, Kano’s hand around your throat and holding you up between your thighs. You were in pain the way he had you bent against him. You cried out and Erron had taken you from Kano within a second and had you behind him, in fight stance. “She’s not yours to eat… I’ve bonded with her..” Erron growled and his eyes got dark. “I will kill you Kano..” Erron growled out and his hand behind him took yours. Kano sighed, gave up, and sped off into the living room to drink the blood of that person. Erron turned around and his hands began to check you for marks, the leather soothing the red marks across your throat. “He knows better not to touch whats mine” Erron growled again softly and his eyes roamed all over checking for bruises. You let him until he felt comforted.

Erron guided you to his room, his gun and hat along with his mask now in hand. He hung his hat up, and laid his mask on the desk, then popped his shot gun, loading a bullet into the chamber, flicked his wrist up to close the gun, and handed it to you but not before he cocked it and said “bullets in the chamber. Do not pull that trigger until you are for sure it’s an enemy.. Kano hates losing to me. So he will be back. But I need to go for a bit.. please feel free to watch the tv and rest.. “ Erron instructed you and pointed to the bed. You felt weird being in the bed. It almost looked brand new, but you weren’t complaint too hard you were exhausted. Kicking off your shoes you climbed into the bed and under the covers, laying the gun beside you, you did as he said and turned on the tv.

Meanwhile Erron was outside and was met by three humans that were part of a gang. They all said things to try and rile Erron up. He laughed and taunted them right back. Erron had two of them dead before the third one could even think and Erron sped around behind him, sinking his teeth right into the throat of the older one. Screams filled the air as Erron drained him of life. Kabal sped up beside Erron and was feeding on the others. Erron was fast but Kabal had him beat. Kabal was fast before he was turned, now he was just there and gone whenever. Erron could be seen a bit running. “Kabal. Welcome” Erron greeted when he had finished eating his dinner. Kabal smiled and looked up, the hooks crossed across his back. “Hi Erron. Heard Kano gave you shit” Kabal said, wiping his mouth off before he lugged the bodies on his shoulders. Erron lifted the other one and the walked together. “Of course he did.. I fell in love with a human today.. and of fuckin course he tried to eat her..” Erron said as they threw the bodies into the pond behind the house. Kabal laughed and shook his head. “I remember when he did that to me too.” Kabal said as they both took off in a race toward the house. Your slow breathing and heart beat filled both of their ears. “She’s finally asleep..” Erron said, as he closed his bedroom door behind him. “Her thoughts have been pure panic and worry, she also is sleeping in my shirt.. she was freaking out about that too.” Erron said and shook his head softly. “I’d give that girl all my shirts if she just asked” Erron smiled and Kabal pulled him over to set on the couch and watch movies. “Keeping her around?” Kabal asked as he flipped through the channels. “God I sure hope so..” Erron said as he leaned his head back. Still smiling like a fool. He was in love.

#mortal kombat x reader #erron black #mk x reader #mortal kombat #erron black x reader

[soyouthinkucanwrite]

July 2nd - Daniel Ricciardo

Based on New Year's Day by Taylor Swift and this request by @spikejonzed

Fluffly, mentions of sex, banter, nothing graphic.

BTW, I don't know how I've never paid attention to this song, it's so so beautiful and honest. I've thought about this concept before though: the "Sunday afternoon effect", when all the excitement of the weekend wears off and you're just hanging out with your friends, laughing about silly stuff, or cleaning up the house after the party. The thing is, the friends that stay till then are the ones you wanna hold on to, and the same goes for lovers. I feel kind of bad... well not BAD but you know, must be hard... when you're famous and rich, to recognize the good ones from the beginning before you give yourself too much away and it's too late.

To be honest with you guys, I think Daniel must feel a bit lonely sometimes. We all do, but to think that people are only interested in you for your fame and money must be tough... something you worked so hard, that you keep dedicating your life to, to think that that thing is the reason for your heartbreak, to your loneliness... It's a two-edged sword, isn't it? Anyway, I wrote this little something with Daniel in mind, hope you guys like it. Hope he finds someone to be like this someday. Hell, hope I find someone to be like this someday. I think everyone deserves that.

Daniel woke up in his bed, no shoes, but jeans and party shirt still on. The light coming through the windows, shining directly on his face, threatening to make his headache even worse. He let out a groan and turned to the side. There's someone on his bed with him. Shit. He just remembered. Last night was the first time he was introducing (y/n) to his friends. His birthday "small get together" (or at least that's what it was supposed to be) was the perfect opportunity for testing the waters and giving the "next step" without making too much fuss about it, after all, they've only been going out for a couple months and with his tight schedule it meant a lot of facetime calls and weekends, but almost no weekdays and routine stuff.

Yet, he was absolutely smitten with her, she was fun and easygoing, passionate about her own work and friends, but still caring and interested in him. They had amazing chemistry, mind-blowing even. But Daniel had lived enough to know that hanging out with someone on the weekends and knowing their best side was one thing, living through daily and mundane stuff was a completely different thing. Where this could go was still a mystery to him and he didn't want to raise too many expectations before he was sure. Still, she looked so beautiful sleeping, a true vision. He tried to remember if something had happened last night, but judging by his clothes still on, and hers as well, he guessed not. As if on cue, she smiled, with her eyes still closed.

"Stop being creepy" she said smiling. "I can feel you watching me sleep"

"You're not even asleep anymore" he smiled and she opened her eyes. He was taken back by her eyes staring directly into his.

"Still creepy though" she laughed, getting closer to him. He held her and they stayed like that for a while.

"Are you ok?" he asked her.

"What do you mean?

"Aren't you hungover, or sick?" he asked again and she laughed.

"Not at all. I have this really weird superpower, you know, I don't get hungover. Ever, actually" she laughed.

"I don't believe you. I have the headache"

"No, it's true. We did drink a lot yesterday, though" she commented.

"Yeah, well, welcome to having Australian friends. No such thing as light drinking with those guys" he laughed but grimaced at the pain in his brain.

"I'll get you something"

"Huh?"

"For the pain" she explained getting up from the bed.

After a while she returned with a pill and a glass of water, passing them to him.

"Thank you, baby" he took the glass, finishing it. "Come back to bed now"

"Your house... like, I'm not even sure if I should tell you to take a look or just pack your essentials and abandon it" she smiled.

"Uhh" he groaned. "I'll call someone later"

"Like a constructor with a wrecking ball?" she laughed.

"It can't be that bad"

"It's bad" she started. "But we can manage it" He looked at her intrigued. "After a shower" she pulled his hand. "Join me?"

"If I ever say no to that question, just put me in an asylum" he said. "I need a kiss though, as motivation" he smirked.

"Noo... I have morning breath"

"What? Me too" he said pulling her down and kissing her anyway. "Uh, no. You're right. Yours is worst" he said laughing while getting up and walking into the bathroom.

"Asshole!" she laughed following him.

They stripped and got into the shower, taking turns in letting the water run through their bodies.

"Come here" Daniel said, putting some body wash in his hands and spreading them over (y/n) body.

"Hum... this feels nice" she said.

"You're so beautiful" he said kissing her shoulder.

"You're so wasted" she laughed lightly.

"Hey! I'm sober. I'm just too tired. Give me a couple hours to recover, and I'll claim my birthday privileges"

"Birthday privileges? It's not even your birthday anymore" she laughed.

"Okay, but first, it's the weekend of, and second, I didn't get any time alone with you yesterday"

"Fair. And what will be your requests, may I ask?" she asked teasingly.

"Humm... you're so creative" he said kissing her. "I'm sure we'll think of something"

They finished the shower after a while, enjoying each other's company and the comfortable silence.

"Did anyone crashed here?" (y/n) asked when they were stepping out of the shower.

"I have no idea" Daniel answered. "I just remembered going to take a nap and waking up this morning. Shit, we didn't... did we?" (y/n) laughed out loud at that.

"Wow! Really, Dan?"

"We did not. I would've remembered"

"Good save. Such a gentleman" she laughed.

"I drank way too much. Sorry. Don't be mad"

"It's fine. I'm messing with you, I don't remember anything either. To be honest, I don't even remember joining you on your 'nap'" she said making air quotes.

"We're the worst hosts" he said getting out of the bathroom and going into the closet to get some clothes.

(y/n)'s heart swelled at the thought of hosting a party with Daniel. There was something so intimate about that statement, so homey.

"You want a shirt?" Daniel asked from the other room, waking her up from her daydream.

"Yeah, sure" she took the shirt, some underwear, and some sweats. Then brushed her wet hair and looked in the mirror. Not a trace of makeup left. She sighed thinking about how falling into a routine with Daniel meant letting the barriers down.

"Alright, snap out of it" she said to herself, getting out of the bathroom and walking outside, to the living room where Daniel was standing rubbing his neck and looking around.

"This is bad" he said when he saw her joining him. There were empty beer bottles and cups all around the living room and balcony, pizza boxes (with half-eaten slices left behind) in the coffee table, party decorations hanging from the ceiling, and the kitchen was even worse, with liquid spilled on the ground and bottles everywhere. There was glitter all over the floor and the couch - someone had brought some of those party poppers, which looked so much fun yesterday, but no so much now. But the best part was the polaroids, left all over the house with the craziest poses.

"Pack your stuff, we're deserting this goddam hellhole" he said and she knew he was joking, he said that about everywhere, but she still shook her head and rolled her eyes, picking a polaroid photo from the ground.

"Everyone had so much fun" she showed it to him. "I loved meeting your friends"

He took the photo from her hand, it was one where (y/n) was sitting on the couch with two of his buddies from Australia, making funny faces while holding cups. He remembered the moment because he was the one who took the photo.

"How's the headache?" she asked him.

"Almost gone"

"Good. So you don't have an excuse. Move your ass, where are the trash bags?" she laughed going into the kitchen.

"Hey! That was very sneak of you" he laughed but followed her anyway.

They spent the next hour collecting bottles, vacuuming glitter, and just cleaning the whole house. Daniel complained the whole time, but in truth, he was very glad to have her there. Sure, he could just ignore the whole mess and hire someone on Monday to clean everything (he probably would still do that anyway, for the heavy cleaning like bathrooms), but it was really nice of her to just stick around, seeming unbothered by the housework. When she finished tying the last trash bag and putting it on the entry hallway she flopped on the couch besides Daniel, who had called it a day some good 10 minutes ago.

"Done?" he asked her.

"I feel like punching you for asking me that" she answered playing annoyed. He lifted his hand in defense.

"What? I did my part!"

"Men" she shook her head. "I'm surprised you haven't complained about being hungry yet"

"Well, I'm starving! Was just waiting to suggest going out, or ordering in"

"Ordering in, please. I don't want to get off this couch any time soon"

Daniel got his phone out to order some food. It was almost noon, so he thought about something like pasta, some carbs would be nice right now. Then he felt (y/n)'s head drop on his shoulder, her hand caressing his arm. It was such a sweet gesture, so understated, he just stopped what he was doing and looked at her.

"What?" she looked at him.

"I'm really glad you're here. Thank you"

"It's nothing" she smiled.

"I don't mean the cleaning. Well, that too. But just, thank you for being you and wanting to hang out with me, you know, after the party"

"I'll always wanna hang out with you, partying or cleaning bottles" she said and leaned in to kiss him. "Happy birthday old man" this made him smile through the kiss.

"Thank you, young lady" he said still smiling. "Let's feed you now, yeah?"

"Please! Let's get some carbs on this house!" she smile.

"Hey, guys!" (y/n) and Daniel looked up to see Luke, one of Daniel's buddies walking out of the guest bedroom.

"Dude! I didn't know you were here" Daniel laughed.

"Yeah, just woke up. Definitely wasn't hiding in the bedroom waiting for the cleaning end to get out" he grinned making (y/n) and Daniel laugh.

"You know what? Just for that, you're going downstairs to pick up the food when it gets here, and taking out the trash!" (y/n) teased him, tossing a pillow from the couch at him.

Daniel just observed while his friend and his girlfriend joked and laughed. He thought about how right now he was enjoying a feeling of contempt that wasn't really natural or much appreciated by professional athletes, but this time felt right to indulge in it. He felt safe like someone's got him, finally. He took (y/n) hand on his and squeezed it three times, he knew this was already a good thing, something to last. She looked at him, she knew exactly what he meant.

#Daniel Ricciardo #Daniel Ricciardo fic #daniel ricciardo fluff #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #daniel ricciardo oneshot

[cherry-pop5]

What’s wrong?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Summary ⤞ Peter is having a tough night. You worry and he comes to you for your warmth and loving comfort.

Genre ⤞ Relationship implied | a bit of angst |fluff |

Warnings ⤞ Mentions of blood and cuts, angst but just the right amount of fluff

Word count ⤞ ?? I don’t know someone help how I can see it lmao

A/n ⤞So sorry this is short but I’m still new to this app and just felt kind of down at the moment. Hope this is good enough to read. Love you all!🍒❤️

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The time on the clock struck 12:30. It was as if it was taunting you. Peter was supposed to be home almost 2 hours ago. His patrol seems to be taking a hell lot longer than usual. Maybe he got caught up picking up something or just had a late dinner.

Yea that’s it. Your leg bounced on the couch repeatedly until it was becoming sore from all the movement. You pulled through your hair for what felt like the 30th time tonight. The tv was on for some background noise but honestly, you kept it on in case any breaking news would show up.

You shook your head, you shouldn’t be thinking about stuff like that. Peter promised he would come back and he will soon. Soon turned to be much later until the clock hit 1:59 and there was a thump on the balcony of your apartment. Rushing towards the window to open it your face grimaced and your eyes showed sorrow for seeing the state peter was in.

His signature red and blue suit ripped in some parts, wounds of all sizes which some were bleeding tremendously, and poor peters face; how you wish you can wipe that far off look in his dull eyes. “Oh petey..” You grabbed his arm and brought him inside. Gripping his side to make sure he doesn’t fall or pass out. You sat him down on the porcelain toilet seat.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?” Not even a response. Nodding gently; it was one of those moments. No words were exchange as you helped him out of his suit and cleaned him up. The occasional grunt and hiss from Peter was almost like a breath for you. He’s alive and here with you: but he’s not really here.

After cleaning up you asked “Are you hungry Pete? I can order a pizza if you are.” He solemnly shook his head no. You sat him on your guys shared bed and stood in front of him. Cupping his face gently you examined it closely. His beautiful brown eyes had a shadow, almost like a storm was brewing in them.

You stroked his cheek. “Your ok. Everything’s going to be ok.” At that Peter finally looked into your eyes. His starting to shine and build up with tears. He finally moved to grip you hard as he sobbed into your neck. “I’m sorry..I’m sorry” was all he could say. Your not sure why he was apologizing but it was probably not meant towards you.

You laid him down on the bed as he sobbed. Stroking his soft curls with your nails you felt him shiver slightly. After what seemed like forever his sobs turned to soft hiccups and hefty breathing. His arms still having a vice grip on your waist. You kept on massaging his head until he whispered “I love you Y/n..”

It was quiet enough that you almost didn’t catch it. Smiling softly you kissed his forehead and laid yours against it. “I love you too Peter, so much.” He didn’t say anything afterwards but if the ghost of a smile on his lips told you it was enough. You’ll wait for when he is ready to tell you

No matter what happened out there Peter knows he will always have his Y/n to protect him. You make all those terrible images and thoughts go even for just a moment.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Please do not repost my content anywhere. Thank you for reading!

#marvel #peter parker #superhero #spiderman #peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #Peterparkerxneautralreader

[mxtantrights]

past lives | 4

a/n: the response this fic has gotten has made me so happy thank you guys so much!! I really couldn't have expected it. anyways happing reading and just know you can always send in stuff about the story <3

“Big meeting! BIG! Conference room seven, five minutes do not be late!” your boss Erwin said.

So you finished the sentence you were revising and shut your laptop. You got out of your chair and brought along with you a notebook and a sweater. Conference room seven sucked when it came to insulation. It was like practice for Antartica. You hated it.

You pulled the knitted cardigan over you as you walked to the room. When you opened the door you saw one seat saved, the one closest to the door. You took it and set out your notebook.

Pens were passed around before you finally looked up at the person conducing the meeting. You eyes didn’t budge out of your head this time. And you think that was because you had been in the same room before. Even though this was far different. 

Bruce frickin Wayne cleared his throat to start the meeting. And you were sat across from him. Maybe you would’ve felt weird - or more weird- if you hadn’t been in the same room with him a couple of nights ago. Completing a mission for the league.

-

As you’re waiting at your table for Fallon to get your last drinks of the night, the waiter with the scar passes by. It’s so quick and no normal person would pick it up. He had flung the drive into your interlaced hands. With swiftness you caught it, opened your bag and put it in while pulling out your phone. 

You unlock your phone and send a quick reply.

package received

Fallon makes their way over to you with the drinks. They pass you yours, a fancy sounding cocktail thing. The menu was hard to decipher as all you ever relate cared for in a drink was a high alcohol volume. 

“What’s in this?” you ask.

They look over at your drink, “I swore I saw something clear in there so I think it’ll do you good.”

You smile. Taking a sip of the drink you taste the vodka instantly. It was mixed in between other kinds of flavors but not potent enough to drown the vodka. Which was good in your opinion. 

“Say if I didn’t know any better I would say a certain Wayne is coming over here.” they say.

You look up with the straw still in your mouth and it’s Jason. He’s shed the jacket and he looks really good. Or maybe you were drunk. Maybe both. Still he looked good.

He reaches your table and plasters a grin on his lips.

“So maybe I can be your gala groupie?” he asks point blank. 

Fallon almost chokes on their drink. You drop the straw back into the drink.

“Hmm, kind of presumptive of you to think I’d want a groupie.” you say.

He leans his face in closer, “I could be good I promise.” 

“I’m- gonna go and order our rideshare, unless you wanna...” Fallon trailed off. 

“Give me five minutes.” he says.

You eye him closely. He’s like a wolf. Showing you his pretty teeth, and you’re supposed to think he’s smiling. But really he’s showing you the canines, the things that will tear into you later on.

You’re not sure if that’s sexual or not.

“Two minutes, Fallon’s shoes are uncomfortable.”

“I bet I can make you blush in less than that.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

You notice Fallon snicker to themself as they back away from what’s going on. This just give you more incentive to lean into his personal space. Something you didn’t think you’d do on the balcony. But this guy in front of you is just intriguing. Something about him seems deeper.

That’s not really the right word but you don't care.

“If you want-” 

He is cut off by a bussing noise. You know it’s not your phone because you can’t feel the vibration coming form your bag. Sure enough he pulls out his own from his left pant pocket. 

His eyes read over something and he sighs.

“uh-oh. I think your time is up Mr.Todd.” you tease.

He puts his phone back in his pocket and smirks ar you. You return the gesture. He sends you a wink.

“To be continued.” he says, and walks away.

You watch him shuffle though the crowd until he’s gone. It doesn’t take long for Fallon to make their way back to you. And when they do you take your straw into your mouth again.

“So sex with a Wayne is not a go?”

You finish off you drink and put it down on the table. 

“Fallon, if I didn’t know any better I would think you were trying to get rid of me.”

“Good thing you don’t know any better. Come on, let’s go to coat check and get out of here.” 

- 

You snapped out of the flashback to the gala. Daniel had finished talking about some of the new funded projects. Courtesy of Wayne industries. You thought to yourself how exactly this deal was made but then you thought against it. This is the richest man in Gotham, he doesn't just stay in one place.

You watched as Daniel pointed over to you. That was when you decided to pay close attention.

“We’re also going to have our Deputy writer produce a spread on the Wayne family. Obviously not too much but just enough to satisfy the public that they keep coming back for more.” He said.

Your eyes flickered to the man himself. He was already looking at you. What you couldn’t understand was, why did the Wayne family need an article or op-ed about them? Was there some bad rumor floating around? Are they trying to get ahead of something?

“You have a question?” Bruce Wayne- which is kinda weird and cool to you at the same time- asked.

“Sorry, I have the worst poker face. I’m just wondering why you and your family need a piece- or want it. But now I’m thinking that can be saved for the piece itself.” You said.

You added a smile after, out of manners.

He nodded his head. Then he thanked you by your first name. It felt weird too. Like he had wanted to say your name on purpose and this was his excuse. You tried to swallow down that feeling.

You pulled the sleeves of your sweater over your hands. 

“Speaking of Ron is giving you full control over the piece. So no need to clear anything by him, he trusts your instincts and vision.” Daniel added.

You nodded a bit surprised. It’s not the first time that Ron, your boss, had given you total control. But those had been pieces or columns about things or places. Not people. Especially not a spread about the most important person in Gotham and his family. 

Daniel called the meeting over not long after and everyone began to leave. You grabbed your notebook but were stopped. Bruce Wayne had called you by name again and asked you hang back.

The words ‘hang back’ coming out of a billionaire’s mouth was weird, because it was addressed to you. Nonetheless you stayed after everyone, including Daniel, left.

When the door closed behind Daniel you turned to the only man in the room. 

“Hi Mr. Wayne.”

He put his hand up, “Oh you can call me Bruce.”

“You’ll probably have to correct me so that I can remember. What can I do for you?” you asked.

“Seeing as this is a family piece, I wanted to let you know that the whole family will be available this coming Friday night.” he said.

“Great, did you have a place in mind?”

“Would my place do?”

You stopped all your efforts to gulp. His frickin masion- manor it’s called the manor. Oh wow, you were really smoozing with rich people. At least the Wayne’s didn't seem to be the snobby or bratty type. 

You won in that respect.

So you nodded along, “That’d be good.” 

“I’ll send for a car,” he said and then he took out his business card, “Just get in contact and it’ll all be arranged.”

“Right.” you said.

You took the card. Which you thought meant the conversation was over. Yet Bruce Wayne did not bulge from his spot. You thought, maybe you should appear more nervous to move things along. 

Turned out you didn’t have to. He excused himself and left the room. It was almost as if he wasn’t there in the first place. The only piece of evidence that contradicted that was the business card in your hand.

-

It was way to cold to be running errands this late. And without material covering your legs. Your outfit and the trench coat Fallon let you borrow was only equipped for balcony breezes. Not harbor ones.

Still, you will make do. The sign coming up above your head read Gotham Harbor which wasn’t a port of any kind. It was a bookshop on the Harbor. The number 45 the building number. 

Was that a trick too?

The lights were still on, even though the close sign is turned. You push open the door and it gives way. This is the right place. You make sure to close the door softly. From the back you can hear movement. 

You walk up to the counter where the bell is. Without a second thought you take the flash drive out of your bag and place it next to it. Then you ring it. You do not wait for the person in the back to come out front.

Instead you leave the way you came. Softly you end up back on the street and begin your walk a couple of blocks up. It was best to catch a cab a distance away as to not be easily traced. 

As you were walking, a black SUV pulled up next to you. You were walking with traffic, and there was practically no other cars on the block. You knew exactly who it was.

The window rolls down.

“Raʼs al Ghul, what a surprise.” you say.

“You passed.” he answers.

“Great. Any details you wanna share?”

“In time, Nyssa says hello.”

“Don’t.”

“I’ll be in touch.”

#dc x reader #Bruce Wayne x reader #Jason Todd x reader #redhood x reader #batman x reader #batfam x reader #PAST LIVES #dc fic

[nev3rfound]

guiding you home : b.b

after many years, bucky found the perfect gift for your birthday even if you were no longer around to see it. (1.5k) 

okay so it’s angsty - i found this on my other blog and initially intended to write fluff tonight, but ended up with this oops (warnings: character death, funeral, general sad angst) 

masterlist / permanent taglist 

- i also have an etsy shop, i just released wandavision themed tshirts if you’d like to check those out! -

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website without being credited, it has not been approved to be shared by me. all rights reserved.)

“Go on, open it,” Bucky can’t stop the smile spreading across his face as you sit upright in bed, taking the small bag from him as you eagerly remove the tissue paper.

“You’ve outdone yourself once again, Buck.” You chuckle, motioning to the effort he has put into the packaging before you lift out a framed image.

Watching you closely, Bucky can see the light in your eyes twinkle, something he’s loved since he first met you. “What do you think?” Bucky asks after a long pause as you carefully eye the framed image in your grasp.

Averting your gaze from the photo, tears glisten in your eyes. “You really did this, for me?” Your voice cracks as Bucky leans closer, resting his hand on your cheek as he softly chuckles.

“I know how much you love them, doll. I had to get you one.” He tells you before leaning in to kiss you, never wanting to let go.

Until Bucky opens his eyes as gentle purrs sound against his neck bring him back to reality.

Forcing himself upright, Bucky glances to the bare side of the bed, still untouched. “Just a dream.” He mumbles to himself, burying his head in his hands whilst Apline jumps off. “It was just a dream.” He repeats, despite the fact it felt so real. It felt like you were there with him, like old times.

As the morning carries on, all Bucky can think about is your reaction. His dream didn’t do it justice, he couldn’t feel the warmth of your skin or the bitterness of your tears against his lips. All he wants is to hold you close, and never let you go.

“Hey, you ready to go?” Steve knocks on the ajar door, stepping through to see Bucky sat in front of your old dressing table.

Your makeup and perfume remain untouched as the dust begins to collect on the items, but your scent still lingers.

“I, I’ll be a minute.” Bucky replies in a hushed tone, not even lifting his gaze from the framed photograph of you and him from your third anniversary, stood outside of your new home with keys in hand. Both of you unaware you wouldn’t make it to Christmas when he had planned to propose.

“Okay, just, we’re all here, you know.” Steve comments with a tight-lipped smile, watching as his oldest friend silently nods before the door closes, leaving Bucky with his thoughts once more.

*

“Thank you all for coming,” Bucky starts as everyone stands with him in the beach as waves crash in the distant. “this was Y/n’s favourite place to visit, even if she complained about the amount of sand that would end up in her clothes or shoes, or moan about it in my metal arm once we got home.” He chuckles, and a series of soft laughter follows suit.

Looking past everyone Bucky smiles as the moonlight reflects against the ripples of the ocean. It was nights like these that always felt special between you both, moments where no one else mattered, whatever was said was kept between you and the sea.

“But regardless, she loved it here.” Bucky carries on, picturing you beside him, holding his hand and squeezing it tightly. “On one of our first real dates outside of the compound, Y/n told me about her love for the stars and the universe. How everything happened for a reason.” Bucky explains, looking at all the glossy eyes and sad smiles. “I told her about my past, about HYDRA and if that was part of this ‘plan.’“ Bucky chuckles, remembering how you weren’t phased like he had anticipated about the details he was ashamed to share.

You sat with Bucky on the edge of the beach, just past the rock wall, telling him it made him who he is now. And without that, who knows what would’ve happened.

“Sometimes, on rare occasions, I questioned her logic. And now, I can’t help but question it more than ever.” Bucky pauses, swallowing the lump in his throat as Sam steps forward, but Bucky raises his hand and nods, he’ll carry on for now.

Averting his gaze from everyone around him, Bucky focuses on the dark sheet of velvet above him as all the stars are out to watch and guide him through this speech in honour of you.

“Today is Y/n’s birthday, and I wanted her to have something that would be unique. She was something else, unlike anyone I had ever met and brought so much light into my life.” Bucky pauses briefly, taking a steady breath before looking back at everyone. “I wanted to find something to reflect that, so with Steve’s help, I got her a star.” Bucky’s voice trembles as he lifts his hand up, pointing up to the sky. “Just past the moon, three stars to the left, that’s Y/n.”

Whilst everyone turns their attention to the sky and attempt to pinpoint said star, Bucky wipes his eyes in a moment of solace.

“And I hope she’s found peace out there, that she’s with everyone else.” His eyes glance over to his friends, all who have lost someone in one way or another. “Even though Y/n is gone, she’ll always be beautiful, watching over us.” Bucky can’t stop his voice from cracking as Wanda passes Steve and passes him a tissue, resting her hand on his back.  

“You did great, Bucky.” Wanda mutters. “Y/n would be really proud of you.” She comments as tears fall from her eyes.

Taking a moment, Bucky inhales deeply before composing himself once more. “Y/n, she er, she’ll never be forgotten.” Bucky wants to finish his speech, for you, but his hands start to shake and everyone’s eyes on him feel like they’re piercing through his skin. “She, she’ll always be the light of my night, guiding me through.” He forces the words out as he falls to the ground, tears streaming down his cheeks as he bites his tongue, holding the sob back that wracks through his body.

Without glancing up, Bucky knows his friends and colleagues are closer to him, standing guard. “It’s okay, Buck,” Steve whispers as Bucky grips Steve’s shirt as his silent whimpers subside into quiet sobs. “you did her justice.”

“Come on, I’ll drive him home.” Sam calls out as Steve helps Bucky across the beach, not daring to look back at the sky.

*

“You think he’ll be okay on his own?” Sam questions as Steve walks out from the house that you were supposed to grow old in, noting the withering flowers that once bloomed.

“I hope so,” Steve answers truthfully. “I think it’ll just take time.”

Inside of the house, Bucky sits in the kitchen, nursing a glass of scotch despite it doing nothing besides burning his throat, it was a needed distraction. Yet all he can see in the brown liquid is the moonlight pouring through the large windows.

When you chose the house, you adored the big windows, allowing as much natural light to radiate through the floors. You hated feeling claustrophobic, and this eased that fear. After living in the compound for so many years, living in a house was grounding for you both, a place just to call yours.

Now it couldn’t be further from grounding as it felt like a taunt of what Bucky once had.

Downing the last of his scotch, Bucky throws the empty glass at the window, shattering the scotch glass into pieces.

The sound of Alpine meowing alerts Bucky, snapping him out of his anger at everything.

“Alpine, please, stop.” Bucky grumbles, but Alpine persists from upstairs.

Sighing heavily, Bucky traipses up the stairs, finding Alpine looking out from the balcony in your shared bedroom.

“Alpine?” Bucky calls out, seeing his cat situated happily on the wooden panels as he looks up at the sky as the moonlight illuminates his whiskers. “Come on in, pal.” Bucky motions as he stands in the doorway of the balcony, but Alpine meows in protest once more.

Admitting defeat, Bucky sits down beside his cat, looking up at the sky and focuses on your star.

“I know, I miss her too.” Bucky speaks up as Alpine curls up on his lap.“But she’s looking out for us, just up there.” Bucky smiles sadly as he points up to the sky, but Alpine is fast asleep.

Remaining in comfortable silence for a few minutes, Bucky takes everything in. He’s not been on the balcony since you passed, everything just hurt too much. But maybe this was part of the ‘plan’ you always talked about.

Maybe healing won’t be as painful as Bucky has pictured it being, but you’ll be there, whether he can see you or not.

“Happy birthday, Y/n.” Bucky mutters as a tear falls down his cheek as he focuses on your star, swearing he can see it twinkle like the light in your eyes, one last time.

t a g l i s t (thank you for the support!) link in my bio and at the top of this piece to add yourself☺️(if your user isn’t tagged, it’s because nothing comes up sorry!)

@biss-stuff @psychicforest  @lourightm @mywinterwolf   @justsomedreaming @stanlux17 @smokeandnailz @supermoonchildbroski @xrosegoldwolfx @courtneychicken @marvelsangels @supraveng @tommy-lee-81 @smilexcaptainx @fandom-princess-forevermore @sarge-barnes-sir @pleasantlysecretdream @decaffeinated–fangirl @howdyherron @kirby-boo @florencxs @eldahae @handmesomecoffee @hi-my-name-is-riley @dev1lbella @thanossexual @alissaginger @sambucky8 @notbrooklynsblog @nikkixostan@cosmiccaptian @adoreyou976 @sarcasticallywitty15 @multi-fandom-princess07 @16boyfriends-and-me @courtneychicken @mackevanstan80 @torchwoodoctor @pleasantlysecretdream  @yougottalovefandoms @magicalxdaydream @soccer-100000 @tenaciousperfectionunkown @talksoprettyjjx @btsonthedaily @jessyballet @katiaw2 @buckyswildflower  @lucrea @weenersoldierr​

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x yn #avengers #avengers imagine #avengers imagines #avengers fluff #avengers angst #avengers oneshot #avengers writing #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes writing #avengers x reader #avengers x you #avengers au #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #marvel angst #marvel fic #bucky barnes fic #avengers fic #james barnes #james barnes imagine

[inkedtae]

fountain of fantasies ⇾ jjk. [M]

⟶ from the eros universe; you do not need to read eros to read this one shot

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ god!jungkook x curvy!reader (f.)

𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒/𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ s2l, greek mythology au, circa. 1800 au, historical au, light fluff, angst, smut, pwp, filth, 18+

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ⇾ you rather be engaging in heart racing activities than in heart breaking ones

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ⇾ 15.6k

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ⇾ dom!jungkook, bigdick!jungkook, buff!jungkook, winged!jungkook, longhair!jungkook, ponytail!jungkook, sub!reader, slightly insecure!reader, shy!reader, mentions and consumption of alcohol, unprotected sex (wrap it to tap it folks), rough sex, playful-ish sex, semi-public sex, fountain sex, dirty talk, creampie, multiple orgasms, slight degradation, overstimulation, exhibition, a lil voyeurism, praise kink, anal, edging, squirting, choking, hair pulling, bodyworshipping, a lil motorboating, a lil begging, water play, a lil spit play, a lil breast play, ass play, a fountain of filth :)

𝒶��𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇'𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒 ⇾ i’m too much of a hoe for greek god guk not to turn this into a mini-series... 

⤜ banner by ↠ @thebannershop​ (thank you dearie~)

⤜ beta’d by ↠  @moonmintrails​ (my soulmate~)

⤜ le playlist ↠

Plump plum juices leak from your violet stained lips. You watch the storm rage through the balcony windows. Flashes of lightning, streaks of raindrops and the wall-rattling thunder only stares back at you. The noise of the world around you would be just the perfect cover for all the sounds he draws out of you. Teeth sinking into the fruit’s flesh, you take another bite and fix your stockings. Topless, you lean back in your plush seat and cross your legs. 

You know he’s not coming. It’s been a week since his last visit, a week of staying up late only to fall asleep and wake up to a new toy. You glance at your bed. The collection of gifts under it do not compensate for his absence. You don’t want the ruby dildos or golden anal plugs. You can live without the silver tit-clamps and sapphire pearled whips. It’s him you won’t do without. 

But tonight would be a perfect night of fun. You swallow your bite before taking another one as your mind circles every dirty thought you’ve been wanting to entertain for the last seven days. Staring out the rain stained windows, the one that appeals to you the most for tonight would be on that balcony, where it started all those months ago. The thought of being drenched in rainwater while he bends you over the railing makes you squeeze your crossed legs together. And the fluttering flap of his wings as they shake out the storm prickles your skin with goosebumps. Wet hands tangled in your wet hair. Loud moans blended in the loud thunder. 

An urgent knock raps on your door. You sit up, letting out a shaky breath from the remnants of that fantasy. As you set your plum down by some grapes on the side table, you shoot to your feet to grab your robe. 

“Bunny,” Mary, your sister, whispers from the other side. 

The little childhood nickname brings a smile to your face. The two of you would play Wonderland in the garden as children and Mary would have you, Bunny, guide her down the right path. Now, she only ever calls you that when she’s nervous and struggling to admit it. 

Tying the robe around your waist, you eagerly let her in. “What is it, Mary?” You smile as she rushes past you. 

She doesn’t take a moment to properly greet you, darting to your little library instead. “Do you have that book about Mount Olympus?” She asks. Her freshly painted nails scrape over the spines of each book as you part your lips to reply. “Oh! Here it is!”

Returning to your seat, you watch your older sister skim through the pages. “Why the sudden interest in Greek gods?” 

“Michael mentioned something about Hera and I just wanted to- I knew it!” 

Chewing on another bite, you raise a brow at her. “I’m sure he’d be pleased to hear that tomorrow,” you chuckle around your food.

Mary pauses. Her eyes, previously gleaming with excitement, diminish into indifference. She clears her throat and shuts the book. “Mama says to never correct a man.”

You stuff your mouth with a big bite and avoid your sister’s gaze. There’s lots you have to say about your mother’s philosophy on love, but you know better than to voice those opinions. 

Mary continues talking, despite knowing your reservations about your mother. She holds the book to her chest and tentatively sits on your bed. “Mama wants me to talk to you about something.”

Slowly chewing, you glance at her. You already know where this is going. It’s another desperate attempt on your mother’s part to make sure you don’t wear the dress he had gifted you. She knows full well how much it reveals and how well it’s designed. You don’t care for your mother’s opinion though; you haven’t for months. It’s Mary’s opinion on the subject that matters to you. 

“But, I told her that I don’t want to lie to you.” She takes a moment to sigh then meets your gaze once more. “You’ll look gorgeous in that dress, Bunny,” she smiles. “And I have the perfect shoes for them too.”

A laugh bubbles out of your throat and you almost choke on your food. Mary laughs at your struggling state. “Oh, can we get ready for your party together?” You ask, perking up in your seat once you properly swallow your food. 

Mary’s excited gaze wavers. She glances back at the book before hesitantly nodding. “Yes.”

“What is it?”

“Nothing…”

You give her a pointed look. Flopping down on the bed, Mary groans and stares up at the ceiling. “What do you think of Michael?” You part your lips to reply, but she continues, “I mean I know he’s from a good family, and can take care of me, and he’s so handsome.”

You bite your lip at the last comment. Michael is not exactly your type of heartthrob. But, then again, your senses have been obscured by a god, so now not a single person can look as handsome, as beautiful, as heavenly as your Eros. 

“But, he says and does things I’m not exactly…” She trails off. “And I think his previous courtship with Linette ended horribly.”

Her half-sentence rings some warning in your gut. However, by the way she avoids eye contact to stare at your crystal chandelier, you decide not to address it. “What makes you think so?” you ask instead.

“Well, that’s what he told me.”

Resisting the urge to scoff, you simply quirk a brow. Mary may be a couple of years older, but she still hasn’t grown out of her naive tendencies. You’re about to tell her that everything will be okay when you catch a familiar silhouette on your balcony. 

He’s here.

Mary shoots up off your bed. You fear for a second that she may have seen him, but then she asks, “So? What do you think?”

Gulping, you take a moment to collect your thoughts. Erasing the fact that he’s finally here from your mind, you try to remain focused on your sister. You want the best for her. You want her to be excited about who she marries and for the life she will spend with that person. And that’s why it takes you a world of restraint not to tell her that if she isn’t a hundred percent sure about marrying Michael, then maybe she shouldn’t. 

“Do you love him, Mary?” You ask. “And I don’t mean that ‘nobility’ love. I mean that, ‘makes you cry just thinking about losing him’ love.”

Mary hesitates.Your eyes flicker to the balcony where he continues to stand. Inhaling deeply, you silently ask him to wait just a second longer. 

“I think I do,” she smiles. 

Your heart shatters at her phrasing. I think. Where is the room for thinking when true love is at your door? You want to tell her that there shouldn’t be any of this ‘thinking’ nonsense. You either do or you don’t, you want to say. But her smile is so pure and eyes light up just enough that you don’t have the heart to take it all away. Besides, maybe she really does love him. 

“Then, I think he’s perfect for you.”

Mary grabs the book and jumps to her feet. “Let’s meet in my room at seven,” she smiles, ruffling through your hair on her way to the door. “Have a good night, Bunny.”

“You too,” you smile as she shuts the door with a wink. The gesture is unusual but you suppose she’s just excited about the party tomorrow. You’re not exactly sure why she did it and with a winged god at your door, you can’t find it in you to care for too long. 

Darting to the balcony, you pull open the doors to be greeted by empty winds and heavy raindrops. Those wings are gone, balcony vacant of anything but despair. Not even a gift replaces his presence. You hold your tears back and swallow the growing lump in your throat. Your time is not one of his toys, nor is it free. You’ve run out of patience. You’re empty of reason, thriving on broken feelings. 

Shakily sighing, you bury the hurt in your voice and whisper, “if you can’t stay, don’t come at all.”

Sparkling diamonds, glasses, and wine circle the ballroom. Sipping on your drink, you take in the gleaming marble floors and the arches of the grand windows. The Barbury Estate is twice the size of yours. You want to believe that your mother’s delight in Mary’s proposal has more to do with her happiness than the fact that her fiancé is riddled with more wealth than he knows what to do with. But, you know that your mother has a special bond with money. It’s the same relationship she has with social standards. Her philosophy is simple; the more, the better. Now, if only your mother felt that way about you. 

No, wait. This night is not about you. An evening lost in a grand room of people only appeals to you when the occasion for such torture is your sister’s engagement party. Your chest swells with pride as you watch Mary dance with her fiancé. Michael Barbury is not exactly what you would call ‘prince charming.’ His jokes border on racism and thoughts are somewhat insipid, but he makes Mary happy. That’s all that matters to you. Her relapse in judgement last night does worry you. But you know that she’ll be happy with Michael. With Eros gone, you wonder how soon you’ll find a love like that too.

Mary’s graceful giggles cut you out of your trance. You blink once, twice until your senses fully return to you. Even the smallest thought of him throws you out of your consciousness. Settling your eyes back on your sister, watching as she basks in Michael’s unwavering attention and dotting devotion, you’re greeted with a sense of comfort. The guilt of not speaking your truth disappears and the fear of never finding love dissipates to the back of your mind. 

“Miss (Y/N)?” Lee Kyon asks, waving his hand in front of you. 

Right, you forgot he was there. Turning to face him once more, you flash Kyon a somewhat kind smile. “Yes, Mr. Lee?”

He furrows his brows. “Is everything alright?”

Perhaps everything would be alright if your mother didn’t constantly feel the need to set you up with the first poor man that accidently looks your way. Yes, you’re well aware of your mother’s behaviour and the fact that Kyon has no real interest in getting to know you. Judging by the way he continues to loop back to the same dull topic about the history of wine, you can tell that he is merely trying to keep the conversation short enough to be polite, but not long enough to be courting you. 

It’s not as though you care for his company either. Kyon has half of Michael’s intelligence. Even though you were only half-listening to his rant, you already pick out the few historical inaccuracies in his unprompted explanation. Of course, the worst thing you can do to a man is attack his wits and pride; that’s what your mother tells you anyway. It’s what worried Mary last night too. And you’ve tested that theory enough to know how true it is and how fun it can be. Watching them grapple for the right words, flare their nostrils in frustration and demand you apologize will always be just as humorous as when they try to “teach” you about language or art or, in Kyon’s case, history. 

Biting back a sigh, you nod and silently pray for a way out of this boring conversation and into something a bit more exciting. 

Clearing his throat, Kyon searches for a way to fill the silence. He then half-heartedly mutters, “You look darling this evening.”

Glancing down at your dress, your face heats up. The tiger lily-peach layers of satin and tulle fall down to your ankles. The pleated skirt mirrors the petals of a flower. Cleavage on display, the long flowy sleeves fall off your shoulders. Finished with a green ribbon around your waist and gleaming pink jewels, this is possibly the best dress he has gifted you. 

Your Eros left it, no wait- he’s not yours anymore. A friend left it hanging in your closet one morning after another passionate night in his embrace. It was a beautiful surprise to be woken up to and a manageable struggle to explain how it came into your possession. You can’t help but find it a bit ironic how your mother is desperate to set you up with the first man she sees, but hesitant to dress you up for the occasion. He must have known, must have felt your frustration towards your mistreatment. 

It takes everything in you to fight off the smile playing on your lips. You glance back up at Kyon, parting your lips to thank him when he continues, “And how brave of you to wear such a dress.”

You pause. “Brave?” 

Kyon smiles and nods. 

Is he really telling you what you think he is? Is he really undermining your confidence, undermining the beauty you know you have by commending your ‘bravery?’ No, you mustn’t judge too quickly. Perhaps he’s admiring your choice to go against expectations of covering up with a shawl. 

You swallow back your initial assumptions, and decide to give him the benefit of the doubt. “I’m not sure I know what you mean, Mr. Lee?”

“Well,” Kyon starts. He looks off to the side and raises both his brows before looking to you once more. His hazel eyes scan your figure, jaw clenching as he clears his throat. “A dress like this is traditionally worn by a woman that looks more like…” he trails off, eyes wandering as well. “Like Miss (L/N).”

A stinging chorus of hushed laughter strikes your pride. Your gut boils with shame and humiliation as your eyes bounce between the partygoers near you. You hadn’t realized they were eavesdropping. As a desperate attempt to ignore their maliciously amused looks, you follow Kyon’s gaze to Mary. Chewing on your lip, you ignore the urge to roll your eyes. This isn’t the first time someone has compared you to her, and you know very well that it won’t be the last. Even the utter disrespect of referring to you by your first name and your sister by your last name further displays their lack of recognition for you. In their eyes, you will forever remain as Miss (Y/N), the spinster-destined sister of Miss (L/N). And though you are certain that the twinge of pain and anger festering in your chest is for Kyon, you can’t help but be a little annoyed with your sister as well. 

But then she laughs, smiling so bright and wide. She looks up at Michael and rests her chin on his bicep, reveling in his attention and embrace. You realize, in her moment of happiness, that you can’t find it in you to hold this grudge against her. Your love for her is greater than your pride. Besides, she plays no part in your insecurities. And, you decide as you turn back to Kyon, neither will this privileged upperclassman.

“How brave,” you sigh with a single shouldered shrug. 

“What is, Miss (Y/N)?”

“How brave of you to believe anyone cares for your opinion.”

Kyon chokes on his drink. The partygoers, previously humoured by your embarrassment, relish in your courage to upstage Kyon. Gasping a giggle, you step back to avoid being spit on. He glares at you as he wipes his chin. You don’t hesitate to return that hard, hateful look in his eye. Raising a challenging brow, you dare him to attempt to embarrass you again.

He takes one step towards you, looking as though he’s about to grab at your arm when his stride is redirected. Kyon walks away without another word. You stare after him in confusion as he mutters an apology under his breath. 

You’re not sure what caused this sudden change in his angry course, but you’re all too happy to be rid of him to dwell on the thought of his motives much longer. He must’ve known how offensive his words were. True, most people compare you to your sister, but at least they have the decency to do it behind your back. You rather be physically absent from a conversation like that. It makes it easier to ignore and avoid the negativity. 

Confidence restored, you feel comfortable in your skin again. The dress is a perfect fit, the struggle to breath nowhere to be found, and sits well on your frame- despite what others think. However, you have very little time to revel in your victory as your mother stalks towards you.

“What have you done?” she hisses over your shoulder. Before you even have a chance to look back at her, she drags you by your arm to the edge of the room. “What did you say this time?”

A heavy sigh pushes past your lips as you clasp your hands before you and reply, “He insulted me.”

Your mother quirks a brow. “And?” She questions as if waiting for a more substantial argument. 

“And?” You echo in confusion. “And he insulted me. I don’t see why that’s not enough of a reason to insult him back.”

She shakes her head and inhales deeply. You brace yourself for the disparaging rant you know is coming. Nothing good ever comes from a head shake and heavy sigh. But, instead of her usual ‘stay in your place’ harangue, your mother cuts to the chase this time. “Do you realize that might just be your only chance for happiness?” 

Suppressing a dry chuckle, you lower your gaze to the floor. You know your mother is well aware of how her question sounds; you know she doesn’t care. Still, you ask, “Is that really what happiness looks like, mother?”

She falls silent. After a beat, you dare to peek up at her. Those once hard eyes soften as her gaze locks on Mary and Michael, locks on how they gaze upon one another with such adoration. Blinking repeatedly, she turns to you and sighs, “Yes, to some people that,” she pauses to glance at Kyon, “is what happiness looks like.” 

A wicked pang of sad, lonely anger twists in your chest then tumbles to the pit of your stomach. Your gaze falls to the ground and heart shatters with that last shred of hope that your mother perhaps did want the best for you. Up until now, you truly believed that in some twisted way, she was just looking out for you, making sure you have someone by your side long after she’s gone. Her words now and that shameless look that matches that shameless confession only point to the painfully obvious fact you have tried so hard to ignore. Your mother’s need to make you look a certain way and throw you at any breathing man has never been for your well-being, but rather the well-being of her reputation. 

“Go to Mr. Lee, (Y/N),” she orders. “Offer to freshen his drink, wipe down his shirt, and then apologize. Beg for his forgiveness if you have to; just make this right.” 

With a deep breath, you trail your eyes back up and try to collect yourself. Your eyes flicker between the exit and where Kyon stands.Your mother clears her throat, drawing your attention back on her. 

“Have I made myself clear?” 

“Crystal.”

She returns to her friends, that gleeful smile plastered on her face once more. Your eyes fall back on Kyon with every intention of following through your mother’s orders. However, he only greets your gaze with malice. A wave of nausea overwhelms you. 

With a shake of your head, you tear yourself away from his threatening demeanour and turn towards the exit. You just need to get out of his line of sight, out of that pretentious atmosphere. Something within you can’t seem to stop telling you that one more moment near that passive-aggressive punk will only make you feel worse. So, you lengthen your strides out of the ballroom and down the hall to put as much distance between you and them. 

The pressure of their expectations suffocates you like no corset ever has. All you can think is how desperately you need some fresh air. It takes you a moment, but you navigate your way around the manor well enough to find the back entrance. 

Cold air engulfs you the moment you step outside. A relieved giggle slips past your lips and you throw your head back to relish in the cool spring breeze. The sky reflects a swirl of silvery indigo. It lures you into its constellations and wonders with every other glance. Lowering your gaze, you scan the garden before you. A cobblestone path leads all the way down to a hedged maze. You can never resist a good garden. In fact, you had helped design the one back home. You hope that when your husband-to-be comes along, he’d have a garden too and maybe you can design it together.

Realizing you can maybe hold on to a few more moments of peace if they can’t find you, you decide to follow the path and hide away within the walls of the maze. You’re halfway down the cobblestone trail when you sense a strong pull dragging your soul closer to the hedges. Picking up your pace, you follow that tug faster, soon weaving through the maze like you’ve been through it before. It’s not long before you reach the centre. 

It’s a large clearing, decorated with a variety of blooming flowers. In the middle stands a grand marble fountain. Three tiered, the fountain sprouts fresh water through the mouths of singing angels. A little smile plays on your lips as you click-clack your way towards it. The tranquil rush of the stream calms your previously erratic heart. You take a seat on the edge and stare down at the pool. It’s empty of floating flowers or little fish like the one you have at home, but still beautiful all the same. 

“Miss (L/N).”

Your eyes well up the moment his sweet voice greets your ears. A shaky breath escapes you and you turn to find him. Did he not hear your words last night? Does he not care? Or is he here to stay this time?

Sitting atop the hedges of the garden maze and out of the moon’s light, he looks just as heavenly as always. Most details of his beauty are hidden, but you can make out his long hair and the way it’s pulled back into a ponytail, leaving loose, short strands to frame his face. And those soft wings are out, spread wide behind him as he stares back at you. Shirtless, he smirks. 

You can’t help the smile stretching upon your lips at the sight of him. It’s an uncontrollable reflex, as is the wetness of your core when he’s around. He usually doesn’t arrive this early when he does show up. How long has he been there? 

Clearing your throat, however, you subside the urge to smile upon his presence. “Mr. Jeon.” His name leaves your lips in a trembling breath as your heart’s aflush with desire. You have to remind yourself that you’re upset with his disappearances.

A sweet smile takes over his features. “I’ve upset you,” he notes. 

Is this a joke to him? How many nights does he expect you to wait around for a maybe? You both know your time is worth more than that. And though you want to tell him that he’s done more than upset you, that he’s disappointed you, you confess something else instead. “I’ve missed you.”

“You know I miss you too,” he replies. 

You resist the urge to scoff. “Are you working tonight?”

He shakes his head. “I just got off actually.”

Without me? You mentally scold yourself for your dirty thought. You can’t even hold onto your anger for more than thirty seconds without having the urge to spread your legs for him. “Lucky me,” you sarcastically reply. 

“Do you like the dress?”

“I’d like it more with the gift from last night,” you glare at him. “If there was a gift from last night, that is.” 

Hopping off the edge, his wings fan out to guide him down before you with ease. Your face falls as he stands in the moonlight. Thick mud coats his muscular body and those once white wings are stained with dirt and grim. His sharp face is scratched with little scabs as well. He looks like he fell from the sky. 

“Jungkook,” you whisper as you reach out to caress his wounded cheek. 

But Jungkook can’t be any less interested in his current state. His attention does not waver off you. Those kind eyes of his scan your frame, lingering around your breasts. “It looks even better than I imagined.”

You feel as though you have to ask him if this really is a joke to him this time. He leaves you for a week with very little behind and returns only to be caked in mud and peppered with wounds and has the audacity to pretend it’s not an issue. Now, you’re upset. 

You blink back your tears, quietly asking, “What happened?”

Maybe it was the hurt in your tone or the worry flashing in your eyes but his usually cocky demeanor trembles just enough to comfort you. “It’s just been a long night, baby. I missed a couple of shots and it took a little more effort than usual to fix everything.”

Fidgeting fingers trail up the exposed side of his thick thigh under the stained toga-like skirt he wears. He shudders under your touch as your hands make their way up to his buff chest where they stay. You inhale deeply to settle your erratic heart. The earthy grim of the mud invades your senses. He doesn’t even smell like himself anymore. 

Knitting your brows together, you ask, “Are you hurt?”

Jungkook’s entire expression softens. Shaking his head, he goes to cradle your body closer to his but stops before his hands reach your waist. You can feel his desire though, to touch and be touched. It’s raw and real, and purely Jungkook. This shared desire the two of you have roots deep within your souls. It breaks your heart to think that he’s not yours anymore, and maybe you made that decision rashly, in a moment of anger. But, you both know it’s not how you feel right now. 

“I need to know your schedule,” you say in a quiet voice. He tongues his cheek, erupting your heart with a surge of want. You ignore the feeling long enough to continue, “I can’t just sit and wait, Jungkook.”

He stares down at you, eyes unreadable. You can tell that he’s mulling over your words, but have no clue how he feels about them. Finally, he cups your cheeks, staining them with dirt, and says “I need you to trust me when I say that I’m doing my best to get to you as quickly as I can, darling.”

Your heart cannot deny him when his gaze reflects such sincerity and honesty. Every ounce of trust, of belief is in him and only him. And maybe you are being selfish, but to be stranded without an explanation is heartbreaking. You know he knows that, or at least feels it in you when you think of him and pray. 

“Just tell me I’m yours again,” he whispers, “and I’ll prove to you how much I’ve missed you too.”

Is that why he’s here? He’s afraid of losing you? Biting your lip, you can’t help but lean into his touch. It was mean of you to punish him like this and make him think that you were really upset with him when in actuality, all you wanted was a little more attention. You give him an innocent look through your lashes. He does his best not to swoon, but you know him well enough now to know that the little quiver in his lips means he’s on the verge of getting on his knees. 

“No man of mine is this dirty,” you smirk, echoing the words of your first encounter. 

Jungkook smiles and this time you have to keep yourself from swooning at the sight of his dimples. “I thought that’s exactly how you like them,” he purrs as he walks you back towards the fountain. 

Heat rushes to your face. The marble edge of the fountain hits the bend of your knees but you refuse to sit down with Jungkook only inches away. His hands may still be on your face, rubbing that dirt into your cheeks, but his body is still too far away from yours. You move to take a step forward, desperate to have your body against his. However, Jungkook is quicker, most likely having read your mind, and moves back before you can even get half a step in. 

Your eyes harden at the action. Pushing his hands off your face, you quirk a brow. 

“I don’t want to ruin your dress.”

“A dress like this is meant to be ruined.”

He smirks. You can tell by the amusement dancing in his eyes that he’s enjoying the sight of you this needy and possessive. He decides to further test the limits of your composure, asking, “Don’t you have a party to get back to?”

He’s teasing. The mockery riddled in his features is enough of a hint, but the playful tone in his voice is still something you bask in. Taking a seat on the edge of the fountain, you let out a deep sigh and look up to the clouds. “A flight back home might do us both some good,” you suggest instead. “It’s not like there’s anything waiting for me at the party anyways.”

“Not even your sister?”

You shake your head. 

“Mother?”

Face folding, you suppress the urge to groan and whisper, “Oh, gods no.” 

Jungkook chuckles as he circles around the fountain. He dips his hand in the clear water, before asking, “What about Lee Kyon?”

Now, what would Jeon Jungkook know of Lee Kyon? A quick scan of his features doesn’t let you in on much besides the fact that he’s trying to draw a reaction out of you. However, what reaction is he hoping for? Is he looking for an explanation? He knows all about your mother’s habits and your relationships, or lack thereof, with mortal men. You never even have to say it; Jungkook knows there’s no one else for you but him. 

“Mr. Lee is fragile,” you sigh. 

His wings twitch. He likes what he hears. You curl in your lips to keep from smiling. Could he, Eros the god of love, lust and desire, really be jealous of an imbecile? Setting your visual tastes aside for a moment, you and Jungkook both know that Kyon, bless him, knows less than the very fountain you’re sitting on… The very fountain Jungkook is climbing into.

“What are you doing?” You ask, shooting to your feet as Jungkook makes himself comfortable. A giggle tumbles out of you, even though you tried to bite it back, at the sight of him washing himself like a bird. 

Jungkook stops for a moment, that playful gaze meeting yours. This one look is enough for you to know he’s heard, and he’s most likely still hearing your thoughts. You wish you could dip in and out of his mind too. It might put an end to all the guessing on your end. 

Continuing to splash his torso clean, he replies, “You’re sending me some mixed messages, baby. I thought you didn’t like me dirty.”

He has a point. Making your way over to him, you sit by his submerged frame on the edge of the fountain. Jungkook rubs his lips as he watches your jeweled fingers trace the curves of your cleavage. Your hand stops in the centre, just above the tied strings of your corset. You begin unlacing it when Jungkook tsks. Snapping your gaze to his, you wait for further instructions. 

“What are you doing?”

“I want to get in with you.”

“So, get in.”

You move to unlace your corset once more, but Jungkook grabs onto your wrist. Catching his darkening gaze, you furrow your brows at his tilting head. He’s gesturing for you to get in, but won’t let you take off your dress. He can’t serious think you’d get in wearing it the water is filthy with his- 

Glancing at the clear water, your thoughts are overtaken by confusion. You expected it to be tinted a dark brown from all the mud but it only reflects the marble bowl of the fountain, Jungkook’s legs, and that growing erection between them. You probably should question him on when he took that skirt off and why the water is so clean even after he went into it with layers of dirt coating his skin, but the heat between your legs is slowly growing more and more insufferable. 

Your eyes flicker back to Jungkook’s to find him already staring at you, a smirk painted on his handsome face. He pushes his tongue against his cheek once more, knowing how much you love that move, then quirks a cocky brow. Kicking off your heels, you lift your dress enough to dip each stocking covered foot into the fountain. You hiss at the sensation of the soggy socks against your feet, but power through knowing how much Jungkook loves the way they look on you. 

Your dress puffs up to the surface and you have to push it down and back to put as little space between you and Jungkook. “Your hair’s filthy,” you pout as you finally straddle his lap. 

Jungkook lets out a little sigh. You first think it’s because his cock stands right in front of your pussy, but soon realize how wrong you are. His dazed gaze wanders over your features, unsure where to stop and what to admire first. Those large hands instinctively find your thick thighs. He rubs and massages them as you untie his hair and wet your hands enough to wash some of the dirt away. You tilt his head back and lick your lips. It’s a habit you have when concentrating. Jungkook knows it well. 

“You’re absolutely beautiful,” he suddenly purrs. His voice is thick, saturated with lust and adoration. “Honestly, you don’t have to do anything, darling, just let me look at you for a little bit.” 

You freeze, hands half tangled in his mud slick hair, and gaze back down at him. Dipping your head down, your lips catch his. You’re obsessed with the lack of hesitation between the two of you. Never has Jungkook thought twice about taking you as his when the two of you are this close. No matter how long he’s gone or how upset you may feel about that, when you find each other again, it’s almost like he never left. Your souls rapture in harmony and bodies tangle indefinitely. Eternity lies in the palms of your hands every second you're together. 

“I’ve got to clean your hair,” you mutter against his lips. He only hums before kissing you again. Inhaling sharply, you let him have another sip of your breath before pulling away completely. And you realize, as you glance at his wings, that they could probably use a good scrub down too before the two of you indulge in the good fun you’ve been dying to have all week. 

Before you can vocalize this, however, Jungkook is already readjusting your shared position. He tucks his wings tight behind him and shifts the two of you around so that the stream of the fountain washes down his back. “Hurry,” he orders. There’s very little room for negotiation in his tone. His appetite for a fun night is growing too and you can’t help but smile at the eagerness you’ve triggered. 

Sticking your tongue out, you hook it under his chin and tilt his head back. Jungkook continues to gaze down at you as he gives into your gesture. “That’s hot,” he mutters. 

This is new. He never talks this much when things start to heat up. Most of the time, you’re tossed looks and expected to decipher his mood, but you’re all too caught up in how gorgeous he is, you can barely understand what he means. Everything is always based on feelings and going with your instincts. But this time, Jungkook’s more vocal. It’s almost as if he’s thinking out loud. 

His wings twitch again. You snap your gaze from his hair to his eyes and find he’s raising a brow. Didn’t you wish you could hear his thoughts too? Could this be his way of granting it to you?

“You know what I like most about you?” He asks as you continue to wash the mud from his hair. Grazing your nails through his scalp, you hum in reply. “You’re incredibly intelligent.” 

Your fingers shudder against his head. The guilt of last night returns. Your sister should be with someone who isn’t afraid of her intelligence either. You should’ve told her not to follow through with this, not to marry Michael.

Jungkook’s hands trail up to your ass, gripping onto the plump flesh. The harsh gesture snaps you back into the moment. You jump a bit and let out a little squeal as your gaze meets his. “I much rather you don’t think of other men when you’re with me,” he groans. 

Fighting off the proud smile tempting your lips, you nod. “Sorry; it won’t happen again.” 

“Better not,” he mutters and that smile finally settles on your lips. “And don’t worry about your sister. She’ll be fine.” 

A part of you wants to question him more about how he knows that, but the death grip he has on your ass and the way he’s looking at you does not leave much room for a sexless conversation. You rather your family stay out of conversations like this with Jungkook. His desire to be the only one in your thoughts makes a bit more sense to you now. 

Smiling, Jungkook inhales deeply through his nose. “You figure things out faster than most people,” he says. 

You kiss the little freckle under his lip to let him know you’re done cleaning his hair. “You spend too much time in my head,” you tease. Instead of in my…  The rest of the sentence twirls in your mind for him to find it. 

As you move to clean his right wing he chuckles and continues, “I’m serious, baby.” He kisses your neck as you stand on your knees and reach for his wing to properly clean it off. “Your mind amazes me. That’s why I spend so much time there.” 

Barriers of the mind fall. They were trembling before but now, with every whispered thought Jungkook voices, you can feel those walls of distance crumble around your inseparable bodies. You’ve always melded perfectly physically and stroked the other’s spirit by caressing your souls, but mental barriers have always halted any real conversation between you and Jungkook. He’s always been able to know your next move, your every thought because of his immortality. And to have the chance to do the same only makes you feel that much closer to him. For this reason, you hope he doesn’t regret opening up to you and giving you a little peek inside his mind. 

Your physical senses shock you back to the moment. His fingers soften their grip on your ass, rubbing it instead and your pussy reactively clenches at that pet name you love so much. Unsteadily inhaling deeply, you move to clean his other wing in silence. You decide you won’t talk this time. Your mind is open to him if he’s looking for your opinion, but tonight you just want to hear his thoughts and be the one tossing unreadable looks. 

Jungkook chuckles against your neck, rolling his shoulders back as you brush your fingers through his wings. His lips trail down to your collarbone. He kisses his way down to your breasts and buries his face between them. Breathing in your scent, he sighs happily and mutters, “This is my favourite thing.”

Your breasts? By the way his hands always settle on your ass and the fact that his first hand-delivered toy was an anal plug, you always just assumed that his favourite feature of yours must be your ass. But you suppose if your breasts-

“Actually, I was talking about the way you smell.”

“It’s called soap,” you tease, earning yourself a light spank. He then bites on your right tit, sucking on the skin just because he can. You giggle and settle yourself back on his lap. Your ass, plush and plump, all but melts over his muscular thighs. 

Jungkook stares at you. His brown eyes are vacant and lost in thought. He quiets under your gaze, only just shifting to pull you closer than you already are. Your pussy frames the length of his cock and you find it increasingly hard to stay still. Trying to read that dazed expression on his face, you wonder what happened with his devotion to thinking out loud. 

Licking his lips, Jungkook finally breaks the silence. “Twenty-three.” He leans towards you turning the two of you back around so his back is against the fountain’s edge again. “I want you in twenty-three different ways, but I don’t think we have time to do all of them.”

You swallow thickly. Grinding your hips into his, you rub your needy pussy against his throbbing erection. Jungkook’s eyes slightly roll back and he has to hold your hips down only to look at you properly again. “Can we make time?” You ask. The desperate cry for more is evident in your voice and you know that, by the quirk of his brow and the shudder of his wings, he’s having trouble saying no. 

“I wish,” he confesses. “My favourite ones take time.” 

His fingers dig into your ass again, hinting at what his favourite positions might be. It’s no surprise that it has to do with your ass, you’re just worried that he’s going to ask for more than you’re ready for. Yes, you may have gotten used to anal plugs over time since he knows how to prep you for them, but his cock is an entirely different game. You are constantly reminded of how those other toys really are just toys because his cock is that uncomparable. 

Jungkook relaxes back against the marble wall and watches you as you salivate over the size of his cock. He doesn’t need to read your mind to know you're terrified of whatever pain may come with it but excited because you’re just that much of a whore for him. 

“You know you don’t have to do it. I have lots of other favourites,” he smirks. 

As your thoughts trail off, he bucks his hips into yours. You breathe moan and clutch onto his shoulders. Every little movement makes you ache for more. A week without a single bit of sexual stimulation, even by yourself, is too long. He never told you that you couldn’t play around alone anymore, but when you have him, why the hell would you play with yourself? You know he’s going to come every night, or at least you hope he is. And the truth is, one he must already know judging by the pleased look in his eyes, even if he had told you he wasn’t coming, you still wouldn’t have touched yourself. Nothing can compare to his touch; you don’t need to try anything else to know this.

A shaky breath escapes Jungkook at your next mental confession. You don't think you were ever really mad at him. You just knew that acting out would get him to come tonight. Jungkook scoffs, looking up at the darkening sky as you wrap your arms around his neck. 

Are you even really sorry? His eyes dart to yours as if wanting to see for himself if your thoughts are true. You don't know if you can answer this question with his eyes on you like that. But, that conclusion seems to be enough of an answer for him. 

He shakes his head and wraps his arms around your waist. Pouting, he asks, “Do you know how worried I was?”

You mirror his expression, drawing a pout in your features as well, and press your chest against his. His breath hitches and body melts into yours, betraying his intentions. Noticing his struggle to stay upset with you, you pepper wet kisses under his chin and along his jawline. 

Jungkook can’t resist you for much longer. He whimpers as his hips grind into yours. Bending at your every touch, he unravels beneath you. A giddy smile breaks your pouty features and it’s only then that he seems to realize how much he’s let himself go in front of you. His grip on your hips hardens. As you kiss up his face, you find his lust-stuck eyes dark with dominance. He hates being vulnerable to your touch this much.

“No, baby,” he rasps. You quirk a brow. “I hate how drunk you get off the power.” 

A proud smirk twitches on the corner of your lips, confirming his words. You’ve barely had taste for the power he’s accusing you of getting drunk off of. However, the fact that you’re able to control him so well with such a small dose fills your heart with pride. 

“You’re getting ahead of yourself.”

“I am?”

There’s a certain cocky pitch in your tone that rings sharply to his ears. His brows twitch, wings flutter, and gaze wavers. He may have been able to look past your exaggerations of dismissal and the way you tease him, but to speak to him with very little regard for his power unleashes something primal within him. You can always tell you’ve really pissed him off when he pouts, clenches his jaw, and breathes so steadily, you can barely hear him. 

Jungkook watches you carefully. “One week without my dick and suddenly you think you own it?” 

“Don’t I?”

A sharp smack lands on your ass. The slow draft of the water does not slow his hands down. In fact, it only increases the sting and accuracy. You gasp and fall forward against him only to be spanked again. Another moan leaves you, this time with your lips hovering over his. Exchanging breathes, a dangerous thought occurs to you. Your lips are over his. What’s to stop you from spit-

He growls. You tremble against him. The purely thunderous rumble in his chest rattles your soul. “I fucking dare you,” he hisses.

Though you want to heed his warning, you can’t help but notice how he keeps his mouth open despite his disapproval. You gather what you have in your mouth and pause for a moment, knowing that he knows what you’re about to do. His mouth remains open. You drop the wad of spit it without a second thought. 

Jungkook swallows it almost immediately. “You’re going to regret that,” he breathes. 

“I highly doubt that,” you smirk.

The cocky persona you seemed to have picked up from him crumbles when his middle finger pushes between your cheeks and circles your tightest hole. His words about his favourite ways to fuck you return to you in distant echoes. You arch your back and push your ass into his hand. His finger threatens to slip in. 

“You’re barely ready,” he scoffs.

Do you harbour reservations based on fears that he just might be too big to fit in your ass? Of course you do; he’s huge. A fact of which he can’t help but always smirk at when you point it out. But, you’re hungry for him and you know that he would never do anything to hurt you. Letting out a shaky breath, you affirm, “I can take it.”

“You aren’t wet enough.”

“Then, change that.”

The continuous authority that drips in your tone has tested his patience for the last time. Reaching a hand out of the fountain, Jungkook grabs for something on the ground. You try to lean over him and sneak a peek at what he’s looking for, but the friction of your clit against his length has you shuddering back in place. 

A little smile breaks Jungkook’s previously callous expression. He pecks your neck and laughs quietly against your skin as he mutters, “You’re adorable.” 

Heat rushes down to your core instead of your face at the little praise. You lean down to press a gentle kiss to his lips when you catch a glimpse of something gold in your peripherals. Glancing up, you find him clutching onto his bow. Before you have the chance to ask what he’s planning, Jungkook only just drops the tip of his bow in to break the surface of the water. A misty rose gold tints the clarity. Little flicks of sparkling gold twinkle back at you as you watch the fountain filter the essence all around you. 

You cautiously meet gaze. He always confirms new things with you before acting on anything, no matter how mad or horny he is. His rash decision to spike the fountain with an unknown substance chills your blood for a second. You start to shift back from him a bit when he breaks the silence. 

“It’s just a lubricant,” he quickly explains. A relieved breath, you didn’t realize you were holding, leaves you. Shifting back against him, you nudge your nose against his. “Sex is a bit different underwater, baby, and I don’t have time to get you as ready as you need to be.” 

A gentle nibble on his lip is all it takes for the rush of the fountain to be the only sound in the silence that settles upon you. His hands guide your hips against his, the fiction much smoother now with that hint of lubrication swirling around. You run a hand through his hand and tug his head back to be greeted with the sweet rumble of his laughter. You can’t help but giggle with him as you place soft kisses along the side of his neck. 

Jungkook quietly moans in little whines and breathless gasps. Every shudder of his wings and furrow of his brows makes you want to rip your dress off and be just as naked and against him. But, then again, there’s something powerful to the taste of being fully clothed and still destroying a man’s composure. You barely have to do anything and Jungkook bends to your every will. You can now understand why he believes you’re so drunk on power, but the truth is you always had this power. He knows this, most likely wanting you to realize it too if he’s the one that suggested you stay clothed. The only difference now is that he’s openly displaying the ways you unravel him rather than keeping it to himself. 

“Do you see what I mean now?” He asks in a breathless whisper. You trail your kiss up to his cheek and moan against it as he continues, “You’re so smart and beautiful and precious.” 

Jungkook pauses, stilling your hips and pulling his face away from yours to look into your eyes. He parts his lips to speak but his words keep falling short somehow. 

His words so far have already ignited an untamable fire not only between your legs, but within your bones as well. He is drenched in every part of you. Shifting to a softer touch, you untangle your fingers from his damp hair and cup his cheeks the same way he had done to you not too long ago. “Go on,” you tease, tossing him a playful look. 

He doesn’t smile, doesn’t even smirk. His eyes, though hinted with amusement, continue to be lost in some sort of trance. He knows you’re curious, but keeps this little bit of thought to himself. Lifting your hips, he hovers your entrance over his erection and finally smirks. 

“Beg a little,” he orders. Though his voice barely carries to the other side of the fountain, the authority in his tone is still as clear and hard as it always is.

Your power trip must have really messed with him if he’s having you beg without giving you a good reason to. An annoyed sigh fans against your collarbone as your body continues to hover over his. “Don’t play,” he rasps, “You know that’s not it. I can hear the truth before the lie, darling.”

That’s an unfair advantage but one you don’t mind too much if it means he talks to you like this all the time. He’s right too. You know that’s not what’s got him eager to hear you beg. It’s the way you beg that’s got him eager to fuck you. Clenching around emptiness, needy to be filled and ruined, you whine a tiny “please,” then a string of profanities as his tip strokes its way to your entrance from your clit. 

“Again.”

Back arched, breasts against his bare chest, and hands clutched onto his biceps, you place your lips on the shell of his ear and blow a gentle breeze against it. “Please,” you mewl. 

Jungkook’s hands tremble and he all but drops you on his cock. Pussy in an instant stretch, with very little room to adjust, you cry out in his ear. Though your voice may be broken and pitchy, Jungkook doesn’t flinch. When it comes to you, the usual results never qualify. You are one of a kind, as unique as him. 

His muscles flex under your palms. Hands finding their place on your ass again, Jungkook guides your thrusts. He can practically feel your weakening body with every bounce and grind against him. You know he can. He shows it in every tightening grip on your ass and grunt in his moans. 

The knot in your stomach is already twisting, conspiring against your better judgement on how long you think you can last. You’ve never been able to outlast him, cumming twice before he finally reaches his first orgasm of the night. He’s just so big and hits those right places way before the rest of him can catch up. How he manages to brush up against your softest spots within the first three thrusts will always be beyond your comprehension. He’s just that good. 

The choked moan that leaves him resembles a chuckle. A frustrated whine escapes you. Is he still listening to your thoughts? It’s not like you’re thinking anything he already hasn’t heard you say, or rather scream, but it still somewhat embrassasses you to know that he will always hear how whipped you are for him. 

“Tell me,” you plead with your lips pressed just under his ear. “Tell me what you’re thinking.” 

The sparkling water around you begins to splash out of the fountain bowl as Jungkook speeds up the pace of your bounces. Deciding your ass seems to be too much of a distraction to him, you pause mid-thrust and move his hands up to your hips. A shuddering gasp escapes him as you carry on with the bounces at his same pace. Your ass claps in and out of the water, thrashing water all around the ground. 

Jungkook digs his short nails into the flesh of your hips, growling every time you whine at his tightening grip. Forehead against his, you catch his gaze and offer an innocent one. “I’m-” he cuts himself off, realizing how breathless and dazed he sounds. You nuzzle your face into his as a silent attempt to encourage him to continue. “Kiss me,” he begs. 

If you weren’t stuffed full of his cock and extremely enchanted by the way he pretends to sound composed, you would’ve refused to kiss him and insisted that he finish that sentence. And that knot in the pit of your gut only tightens with the grip of your pussy. Pressing your lips against his, you slip your tongue in and let him swallow your moans. 

The moment his tongue tackles yours, your legs quake. Thrusts hesitating, your body begins to spasm against his. Your hands grapple at his shoulder just to ensure you stay a float as your threatening orgasm continues to build. 

“Jungk-” You break the kiss to tell him, to ask as he has taught you over and over again. 

But Jungkook only latches his lips onto yours once more. You gulp down a moan or two of his before he hisses against your lips, “Just fucking cum. Now, kiss me.”

You may have been drunk off power not too long ago, but as you kiss him again, you realize that he is drunk off you. And that’s all it takes for your ograsm to finally rush over you. Jungkook lifts his hips up to meet your stuttering ones. Your lips fall off his. Face buried in the crook of his neck, you cry out his name and cream all over his cock. 

“I’m thinking you’re such a good girl for cumming like this,” he suddenly whispers as you ride out your orgasm. Even with your ears ringing and mind shuddering from the second wave of cum gushing all over his hard, huge cock, you can still hear every dirty praise clearly. “My whore got herself off so well.”

The whine that escapes you from his words alone is borderline pornographic. Jungkook even feels it, arching his back so his chest collides with yours as well. “You’re so sexy,” he whimpers as you babble fountain water by his shoulder from exhaustion. 

Wet, wet, wet; everything is wet. You’re both drenched in lube tinted waters, cum, and your desires. You can’t revel in it though, as the skirts of your dress float the surface and corset clings to your chest all too tightly. You can barely find it in you to breathe, let alone tell him that you need a quick break. 

“No,” he groans, settling you on his thighs. Circling his hips into yours, Jungkook grips onto the nape of your neck to peel you off him. 

Your heart stumbles as your mind races to figure out what you’ve done that was so wrong, he’s wanting to stop the night here. “I’m sorr-”

“You don’t need a break,” he sighs between moans. He sits himself up, his wings extending only to drape over the lip of the fountain’s bowl. All movements underwater cease as he digs his fingers into the bust of your corset. In one swift motion, Jungkook tears the first few laces apart, instantly sending a full batch of oxygen to your lungs. 

Gasping, you gaze down at your torn dress before glaring at him. Maybe with just a wet dress, you could have explained your way out of whatever mess this is going to get you in when you attempt to return to the party. However, a torn dress will not be that easy to explain. You want to glare at him and tell him off but he shoves his face between your now exposed breasts and moans before you’re able to. 

He moves your hands up his shoulders so your arms drape over them, then settles them on his favourite place; your ass. Two of his fingers push between your cheeks and stroke your hole. His touch there is much smoother than before and you suspect that it must be the bow-tipped lube. 

You moan quietly, resting your chin atop his damp head as he kisses and bites at your breasts. Your pussy still hasn’t recovered from your orgasm seconds ago. In fact, truth be told, your entire body is having trouble recuperating after cumming that hard in a week. But you want more of him and he still hasn’t filled you of his godly load yet. And with his fingers circling around your asshole, you can’t deny him the second ride he’s patiently waiting for. 

A slow grind of hips into hips is a good start, you tell yourself. You’ve never really had to deal with this before, since Jungkook would usually just keep pounding into you despite the fact that he knows your limbs are exhausted from one orgasm already. Clenching your jaw, you start to bounce again, ass clapping against his thighs in suppressed thumps underwater. The overstimulated pleasure brings tears to your eyes. You cry out his name and hold onto his wings. 

He groans against your right breast from the contact. You’re about to apologize, knowing his wings are sensitive, when he shoves his fingers into your tightest hole. You freeze and throw your head back from how easily he slipped in and how fucking good it feels. Jungkook scissors his fingers within you, peeking a glance up from between your breasts. 

“Are you okay, baby?” he slurs. He licks up the valley of your breasts, holding your gaze shamelessly. 

“Mhm,” you mewl. 

Resuming your thrusts, you feel your tears run down your face freely. You don’t even have it in you to wipe them away. Your hands, instead, centre around his back. You scratch at it for a bit until you feel him add a finger. Moans tumble into his wet hair as your fingers trail up the length of his spine. 

Jungkook stiffens. A choked groan tears from his throat and he hides his face further into your breasts. They bounce around his cheeks with each hop on his cock. Too consumed by your own overstimulated pleasure to dwell much thought on his movements, or lack thereof, you mindlessly repeat the action. You stroke his spine once more and then you hear it. 

He sobs a moan.

You still your hips, looking down at him. As you run a hand through his hair, you’re about to ask if he’s okay when the whooshing flutter of wings obscures your vision. One second, you’re straddling his lap with his fingers in your ass. The next, you’re the one submerged in the water with him hovering over you. Wings fully extended, face stained with tears, Jungkook makes sure your arms are resting over his shoulders like before then takes up a deadly speed of thrusts into you. 

His speed defies the laws of physics, hips moving much faster than they should underwater. Half the fountain is on the ground from the force of his movement. All you can do is sob with him as your body becomes his only source of pleasure. 

What’s gotten into him? He doesn’t even have an interest in your ass anymore, hands locked in a death-like grip on your hips. In a moment of pure animalistic pleasure, you just wish you knew what’s running through his head. 

“You,” he growls in a pout. “You’re all I think about, you fucking whore. You’re all I can ever think about.” He swallows thickly before continuing, “You can’t go one second without thinking of me and now all I can hear is your voice. All the time; it’s you, you, you.”

You don’t know if you should apologize or cum from the simple confession alone. His voice, his words, his entire fucking attitude has you aching to cum all over again. 

Jungkook stumbles over his chuckles. “You just love seeing me like this, huh? You love seeing me worship you, baby?” 

Worship. Does he want you to cum that badly that he’s willing to lie? You both know he doesn’t worshi-

A sharp thrust derails your thoughts. Your eyes roll back as you moan out his name. 

“You’re my goddess,” he confesses. “You’re my only goddess.”

He repeats the phrase over and over again until that’s all that rings in your ear, in your heart, in your soul. His release paints your tightening walls. The knots within your gut have unraveled long ago and it’s only when your blurred vision somewhat clears and convulsing body trickles into tremors do you realize that you’ve both cum together to the words he’s still repeating. 

Voice a tiny, gruff whisper, Jungkook whispers, “My goddess.”

He’s serious. He must be. He truly worships you. The tears in his eyes, the break in his voice, the truth is clear and just as starkly bare as he is between your legs. His eyes suddenly flash with worry, almost as if he’s recognized what he’s said. He meant what he said, you realize, but he never meant to say it. 

Jungkook gingerly pulls out of you as you try to seat yourself up. You pull your legs into your chest and watch him take a seat beside you. He leans his head back against the rim of the fountain and gazes up at the sky. You follow his gaze, noticing it’s gotten much darker out, the silver stream of stars piercing an indigo backdrop no more. A midnight black cloaks the world above you, a crescent moon lighting up your night and an array of stars twinkling down at you. Though your mind is still foggy from your recent orgasms, body still shuddering, you can’t help but think about his words. What makes him think you belong up there, amongst true gods and goddesses? 

His wings twitch as they tuck themselves behind him. You know that combination well. He’s hiding something. Usually, you don’t ask, knowing he will only deflect the topic and shower you with attention and praises instead. But, his spoken thoughts are now looping around your mind, begging to be answered. 

“Jungkook,” you mutter, shifting closer to him. Face still stained with tears, he forces himself to look at you. The questions are on the tip of your tongue; what, why, when? However, as you part your lips all you can bring yourself to say is, “I didn’t hear anything.”

You’re my goddess. 

The words return with ten times the force they previously held. It’s almost like denying their existence is just as blasphemous as saying them. You swallow thickly and try to extract the words from your mind, but it's too late. They are as entrenched in your bones as your affection for him is. There is no undoing what has been done. 

You bring a hand up to his face and wipe away the stray tears. He melts into you almost immediately. Maybe it’s best if you return to the party now. You can make up some excuse as to why you’re drenched and torn on your way there. Jungkook’s state is all but worrying and you feel as though you shouldn’t be witnessing this. 

“I’m not done with you yet,” he finally says. His voice has regained composure and tone controlled. No more does he choke on his words or laughter. The authority he indirectly bestowed upon you has been returned to him. 

You should tell him you’re done, that he shouldn’t say things he doesn’t mean to. You should tell him that he shouldn’t play with your feelings or your heart like this. But, again, the words wither away the moment you part your lips to voice them. And, instead, you ask, “How do you want me?”

Jungkook smirks. His hands snake around your hips and lift you up onto his lap. Back to his chest, you make yourself comfortable, leaning into him. He pushes the excess fabric of your dress aside just to get you as close as possible. Then, you feel it against your ass, pushing its way between your cheeks. His erection is just as hard as when you started. It’s no wonder why he’s not done with you yet. You suppose he didn’t just confess something he can’t take back only to still leave with a full hard-on. 

“I thought you didn’t hear anything,” he whispers in your ear as his hands cup the underside of your thighs. 

You nervously look at him over your shoulder. “I didn’t.”

He chews on your earlobe, warm tongue caressing your jaw. “I should stop thinking about it,” he whimpers against your skin. “I should stop thinking about you.”

I’m not a goddess, you want to tell him. But, by the way he sucks in a sharp breath, you can tell he’s heard and isn’t impressed. He opens his mouth to say something, maybe to scold you for degrading yourself, or to correct you. The words never arrive. 

Jungkook shakily exhales. No more trips into his thoughts it would seem. He remains silent as he spreads your legs and swiftly lifts you up. You expect another harsh round into your pussy but his tip shoves its way through your asshole instead. Throwing your head back, you try to suppress your scream by holding your breath. 

It doesn’t hurt as much as it usually does during the first initial thrust of a toy. Whatever he tinted the water with must be the result of a smooth entrance, and a deliciously blissful stretch. You let out a breath you held, along with a loud, high-pitched squeal. Jungkook folds you up well, holding the bend of each knee into your chest as he continues to slowly lower you onto him. 

Once you finally take him all in, you settle your entire body back into him. Shuddering breaths, drifting eyes, you hold him deep within you and try not to completely lose yourself in a fit of moans and pleads. You don’t even know what you’d be begging for, just that a string of “pleases” will leave you. 

Are you getting bigger, you mentally ask. 

He chuckles and shakes his head as his nose nuzzles into your cheeks. He can’t get enough. Inhaling you deeply, you realize that he can’t get enough of you. He even said so in so many words. And you don’t have much of a problem with that considering you can’t ever get enough of him either. You’ve consumed all of his thoughts it would seem and he’s even lost himself to you so much so that he’s declared you his one and only god-

“Fuck!” 

The stream of the fountain rushes down on your clit. He holds you straight beneath it as his hips move up and down against your ass. You’re at his total mercy, every thought of ever being in control a complete joke. You rest your head against his shoulders, trembling hands placed over his as a desperate attempt to control yourself.

Your first water wave induced orgasm hits you within seconds. You don’t know for sure, but you’re all but certain that you’re cumming. Your eyes have been screwed shut for a while, and body shaking since this endeavor in the fountain began. Only when you try to close your legs do you confirm that you indeed came.

Jungkook keeps them open though. He ignores your pathetic scratches on his knuckles as you try to explain to him that it’s all just too fucking much for you to take. “Just let me cum,” he tries to soothe between little hushes and murmurs about how good you’re taking his cock. 

But then your second orgasm from the fountain hits and you can’t stop squirming in his hold. He keeps you folded and under the water’s subjection nonetheless, somehow even cooling the temperature down. As you shiver under the cold rush, Jungkook positions you higher against him so that the water pours into you instead. You realize, pussy clean of his cum now, that you’re getting fucked by a fountain; a fountain that he controls. And you fucking love it. 

Then, there’s the fullness of your ass. Every inch of you is his. If you’re his goddess, he must know that he’s your god. Your one and only. 

“Careful,” he warns against your thoughts. 

You have an assful of his cock in you, getting off more times than you can both count in a fountain that does not belong to either of you; when have the two of you ever been careful? In fact, your recklessness is what brought you together. Had he not seen you on your balcony every night, he might not be here at all. Carelessness runs in your veins, laced in your tone as you cry out, “You’re my god!”

The clouds rumble above you. The heavens can warn all they want. Interrupting sexual endeavors would do them more harm than it would do you. 

“If you want to cum, you’ll behave,” Jungkook hisses. His thrusts suddenly snap into something primal. 

Your body bounces every time, water rushing down your clit once more. This time you feel your orgasm build, and fast. Toes curling, eyes rolling to the back of your head, you hold onto every twisting, clenching knot at the pit of your stomach. 

“Ask!”

“Please?”

A particular ram into your ass lets you know that half-hearted plea won’t get you very far. He doesn’t deign to repeat himself. Instead, he lets his harsh movements and bone-rattling growls speak for him. 

“Please let me cum, Jungkook, please.”

“Again.”

“Please, please, please, Jungkook.”

He doesn’t say it. But you feel it. You feel the approval in the form of a gentle kiss against your ear. Hips a craze, rolling against the wave, you clench your jaw and try to channel all your pleasure in a high-pitched moan rather than the cry your lungs are desperate to let out. Your cum gushes then, juices squirt seconds later. Entire body on fire, under the scrutiny of the stream as you try and fail to recollect yourself. You’re shattered, ruined, obliterated by his cock and this fountain of fantasies. 

“That’s a good girl,” he coos. “That’s my good girl.”

His. His. Gods, the things you would do to be his always, not just under the cover of the night. Jungkook releases your legs, wrapping his arms around your waist as he grounds your ass over his hips. Load after load shoots within you, making your giggle and shake with ecstasy at the filling sensation of being stuffed so well. 

“Ah-yah, baby,” he groans in a scowl against your jawline. “You’ve got the tightest little hole for me, hmm? If you weren’t so exhausted, I’d have us do this all over again.”

Exhaustion. Yes, that’s what you’re feeling. With your mind foggy and broken from the countless orgasms he’s sent through you, you can barely find it in you to breathe, let alone think to go for another round. Your body’s only excuse for staying afloat is the winged god behind you. He clutches onto you as if his only reason for surviving is you. And judging by his previous confession, that very well might be the case. 

Jungkook rests back against the fountain’s edge once he’s done. Gasping for air, he continues to hold onto you, kissing your shoulder mindlessly. “I never really know how much I miss you until I have you,” he whispers. His teeth graze your supple skin. 

Body limp, you can’t find it in you to reply. All you can think is after he pulls out, he’s going to fly back to Gods know where and leave you to hobble back to the party alone. After all, isn’t that how every night ends? You two share a passionate few moments, both have out of body experiences when orgasming, then you fall asleep and he sneaks away. What’s to say this night won’t be any different?

“I thought I told you to trust me?”

“I do.”

He scoffs. You don’t blame him. Your words are hardly convincing. It has nothing to do with the fact that you just came five or six different times. It’s the lack of commitment in your tone that tips him off. You hear it too. You really do trust him. He’s just let you down too many times to count. 

“What more do I need to do? I’m with you every chance I get.” 

Exhaustion. It’s not a physical one, not the one you’re still recovering from. It’s one of the mind. He’s exhausted with this back and forth. You are too. This isn’t exactly what you thought your first relationship would look like. 

He pauses, body freezing beneath you. 

Oh, right. He’s in your mind. He heard that. Is that not what this is, though? Isn’t this a relationship?

“Say it.”

“What?”

“Say it,” You repeat, looking at him over your shoulder. 

Jungkook starts to soften in you. You’ve really set him off now. He lifts you up and off his cock, sitting you on his thigh and ignoring the way you hiss and whine at the discomfort. You turn to glare at him over your shoulder only to find him already glaring at you. 

“Do you want me to come back?”

Is he threatening you? “Do I have to remind you who came here begging-”

“You lied!” He cuts you off with a shout. 

“You knew that, though. You knew I was lying,” you point out, a pout starting to overtake your features. “You came because you missed me.”

“That’s never been a secret.”

“Say it then, Jungkook. Say this is a relationship.”

He falls silent. His once annoyed eyes can’t even meet yours. 

“I know you’re jealous of Lee Ky-”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he scoffs. Shaking his head, he forces himself to meet your gaze. 

Sad tears vary drastically from blissful ones. Tears of bliss soothe the pleasure and make it bearable. Tears of sadness sting your eyes, pierce your heart and shed any part of you that can make such a situation bearable. Sad tears only remind you of your pain. 

Your eyes sting with despair as he regards you with such frustration. Emptying your mind, discarding all thoughts, you ask, “Are you coming tomorrow?”

Jungkook sighs, but not a beat of hesitance affects his answer. “Of course.”

You raise a brow. See?

“Fine. This is a relationship,” he mutters. “What does that change?”

Nothing. It hasn’t changed a thing. You don’t even feel any different, any better. Maybe it’s because you forced it out of him? You don’t know. The tears only fall faster though, and you can’t bear to look at him. Your heart’s conflicted, shattered and replaced all at once because, though he is the cause of your tears, his presence is also the only thing soothing them. You wrap your arms around his neck and rest your temple over his. 

You can at least relish in his company for a few moments longer. And his scent, that intoxicating waft of creamy coconut and sweet peony orchards returns now that all that mud and grime has been washed off. The scent is comforting enough for you to relax in his arms and forget your pain for a second. 

“That’s not what I smell like,” he whispers. You tilt your head away to get a better look at him. A little smirk tugs on the corner of his lip as he says, “It’s what you smell like.”

Impossible. He’s always smelled like at the end of every night. You’d cuddle into his chest and inhale a breathful of the tropical scent. How could that be what you smell like if he reeks of it? The knowing look in his eyes is enough of a hint for you to realize you know the answer. He’s dripping with your essence every night because he spent the night in you. You wonder if you smell like him too. 

He sighs, circling his arms lazily around your waist. He deeply inhales your skin, smiling against it, but doesn’t answer your mentally posed question. Damp hair clinging to the sides of your faces, you settle in the other’s company. One of his hands rises from the water and wipes away your tears. As you sniffle, he whispers, “I promise I’m-”

“Doing the best you can,” you croak, finishing his sentence with him. 

Yes, yes. You’ve heard it all before. You don’t think he’s lying, your Eros is no liar. You do believe that he is, in fact, doing the best he can. But if his best is only a few hours every night, you’re not sure you can accept that. And, yet, you also can’t find it in you to truly, with all your heart, reject it as well. 

He needs to prove his devotion to you in another way. A risky thought then tiptoes into your mind. Gulping down the lump in your throat, you take a deep breath and ask, “Could you do me a tiny favour?”

Jungkook’s hesitant to meet your gaze. He glances at you through his peripherals, otherwise keeping his gaze locked on your breasts. Whether he’s trying to distract himself or not, you still push them out a bit in hopes that they will grant you the “yes” you’re hoping to hear.

He nods. 

With a little kiss upon his cheek, you stroke his shoulder with the soft tips of your fingers and ask, “Would you please escort me to my sister’s wedding?”

He turns his head away from you. Staring across at the other side of the garden, Jungkook withdraws from you. His hands fall off your frame as he heavily sighs. You press yourself against him, trying to regain his attention but he only shakes his head. 

“Acting cute won’t make this any easier,” he grumbles. 

You huff and slouch against him. “How about just the rehearsal dinner?” You try to negotiate. When he rolls his eyes, you quickly add, “I’ll be stuck with Kyon and honestly I don’t think I handle another minute of his incorrect reilieration about history.” 

Jungkook snaps his head towards you at the mention of another man. You cock a brow to which he only scoffs at. “You’re being obnoxious,” he seethes. “And unbelievably selfish.”

“So?” you question before you can stop yourself. His words sting, slicing through your confidence all too easily. There isn’t much room for thinking and even if there was, he would be listening to them anyways. So, you might as well say what you want out loud. “Was it not selfish of you to make me wait-”

“For fuck’s sake,” he mutters under his breath. “I’m not going to repeat myself, (Y/N). You can’t keep telling me that you trust me only to keep bringing this up. I was busy. You had to wait. It didn’t kill you.” 

Your tears have returned. He rolls his eyes at the sight. Whatever remnants of your heart you thought you had has been obliviated. “You make me feel so loved,” you whisper as your hands retract from his body. 

Jungkook’s expression disarms all hostility. His eyes reflect regret but you’ve heard, seen all you need to. 

“But why do you only make me feel this way when we’re naked?”

“You’re not naked,” he’s quick to reply. 

It’s your turn to scoff. How can a god be this dense? “Aren’t I, though? Tell me, Jeon Jungkook, whose thoughts are open for the other to hear? Who is the one waiting, praying for the other’s attention? Who has been bare since first glance on the stupid balcony you left last night?”

Before he couldn’t meet your eye out of disinterest, but now he avoids your gaze out of guilt. Yes, you’ve been obnoxious, selfish, maybe even a little entitled. However, you’ve had a god to yourself for months. You’ve had endless moments of ecstasy that only end in soft cuddles and whispered sweet nothings into the night. Is wanting that attention when the sun hasn’t set yet too much to ask? 

Jungkook parts his lips to reply when his eyes suddenly shoot up. He sits up, almost knocking you off his lap and snaps his head towards the very pathway you came from. 

“(Y/N)!” 

You gasp upon hearing your mother’s voice. The clicks of her heels draw further towards you and before you can look at Jungkook and ask what you should do, what you should say, you’re thrown into the fountain. 

Ice cold waves engulf you as you inhale a good chunk of the fountain. Your lungs burn from the accidental intake of water. You only just get your hands under you and sit yourself up and out of the water as quickly as you can. Familiar shouts ring in the distance. Coughing up the fountain, you push your hair back and look around the garden. 

Your mother is staring at you in utter shock, screaming at you to come out but refusing to help you herself. As you try to lift yourself up, you find the water has returned to its usual clarity and that Jungkook is nowhere to be found. He seriously left you to almost drown in the fountain by yourself? He’d be lucky to get more than a kiss from your tomorrow night. You can’t believe he has the audacity to yell at you then let you there like that. In a fit of anger, you send a lashing string after lashing string of profanities to him in the form of a prayer. 

“Miss (L/N)!”

Your blood chills. Hands on the lip of the fountain, you turn towards his voice. Fully dressed in a dark blue suit, his wings nowhere to be found, and dry hair pulled back a neat ponytail, Jungkook rushes over to you. His strong hands settle on your waist before he effortlessly scoops you out.

All you can do is stare. Mouth agape, eyes vacant, you try to figure out why the hell he made himself all presentable and left you looking like a mess. You want to whisper your profanities and swear that he will never touch your ass for leaving you in such a mess, but all you can find yourself saying is, “Mr. Jeon.”

His eyes shoot to the sky as your mother rushes towards you. Nothing is making sense and you only wish you can read his mind to know what to do next. 

“Goodness, (Y/N),” your mother hisses as she rushes towards you. “Cover yourself!”

Looking down at your bust, you gasp. Oh, right, he tore it. Crossing your arms over your chest, you look up at him and glare. But Jungkook only takes off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders. It’s only when you feel your mother’s arms around you do you realize that you’re shivering. 

“What have you done to yourself now?” she whispers in your ear. 

Her eyes then settle on Jungkook. That look graces her face. That look of assessment. She’s scanning the unknown god up and down, looking for signs of wealth, status, and reliability. It doesn’t take her long to innocently smile and fall victim to his beauty, “Thank you kindly, Mr. Jeon.”

He bows his head then turns to you and says, “I told you not to sit on the edge.” Jungkook fakes a polished chuckle. He shakes his head at you when your eyes narrow at him. “I told her, Mrs. (L/N), I told her the marble is slippery. But, Miss (L/N) just had to get a better look at those flowers.”

You glance back at the fountain with your mother, finding an array of tiger lilies floating in the bowl. All this trouble to explain why you’re wet? You look back at him cautiously and wonder what the end of this conversation is meant to look like. 

“Yes, she loves flowers,” your mother sighs. She then sets her sights on Jungkook once more and asks, “Jeon… I’m not sure I know of the Jeons. Are you from out of town?”

Jungkook charms your mother instantly with that kind, toothy smile of his. He nods and compliments her quick wits, to which she laughs, then explains, “I’m visiting for the wedding.”

The wedding? Does that mean?

“Miss (L/N) invited me. I’m rather glad to have run into you, Mrs. (L/N) as I was hoping to ask permission to escort your daughter to the wedding.”

One of your hands, previously covering your right breast, shoots up to cover your mouth out of utter shock. Did he orchestrate all this just to agree to your favour? You hope you haven’t guilted him into it. You’ve done that to get him here and admit to your relationship; you already regret doing that. You just hope he’s acting on his own accord right now. 

Jungkook shoots you a wink as your mother fixes the jacket so that your uncovered breast is concealed once more. Sighing of relief, you offer him a grateful smile. 

“Are you sure?” Your mother suddenly asks, looking back to Jungkook. “(Y/N) is the one you want to escort?”

He glances at you and smiles. “Miss (L/N) the one and only thing I’m always sure about.”

Your mother raises a brow at you. She smells something fishy, knows something is off about this entire encounter. You watch her carefully as she looks between you and Jungkook. And when you expect her to refuse, to lecture you in front of him, your mother adopts an opposite approach. She smiles upon the two of you and shifts you closer to Jungkook. 

“I would be delighted to have you escort my daughter, Mr. Jeon,” she beams. “Do you mind walking (Y/N) to the carriages? I cannot let her go back and drip all over the Barbury’s rugs.” 

Jungkook offers you his elbow, returning your mother’s smile. “It would be my pleasure.” 

You stumble towards Jungkook, your mother practically pushing you into him. With a shaky hand, you take his arm and let him guide you out of the maze. After a turn or two within the tall hedges, you part your lips to ask him what he thinks he’s doing. 

However, Jungkook fills the silence before you can. “I’ll buy you an entire bouquet of lilies, darling. Just promise me to never fall into a fountain again,” he laughs, exaggerating the volume of his voice. 

This time, you pick up on his hints and realize that your mother must still be close by if he’s still putting up such an act. “I promise it won’t happen again, Mr. Jeon,” you innocently reply. 

A smirk, you know is real, graces his features. He walks you around the manor and to the front of the house before breaking out of this noble character of his. “I think she bought it. Your mother is a very suspicious woman.”

You scoff. “That’s just one of many titles she holds,” you mumble under your breath. As you walk towards your family’s carriage, you can’t help but ask, “Why did you do that?”

Jungkook stops you before the door and takes both your hands in his. Those amused eyes linger around your exposed breasts. He chuckles a bit at the way you arch your back to keep them there, making you giggle along with him. 

“Are you happy?”

You pause. Is that why he did this? To make you happy?

“Are you?”

He gives you a pointed look. “Answer the question, (Y/N).”

“Are you just doing this to make me happy, Jungkook?” You ask instead. “Because I will go back to her and tell her that we were both in that fountain and-”

“So what if I am?” He cuts you off. “I want you to be happy, (Y/N). Why is that so wrong?”

It’s not. There’s nothing wrong with him wanting you to be happy. But you want him to be happy with his decision. You’ve forced him into admitting things and meeting you. You don’t want to force him into this too. You want him to want to take you, to want to be with you. That is what true happiness is to you. It’s Jungkook unconditionally wanting you the way you unconditionally want him. 

Jungkook cups your face. Leaning his forehead against yours, he whispers, “I’m sorry I make you think I don’t want you just as much as you want me.” His nose brushes against yours, hitching your breath as he presses himself against you and continues in a breathy whisper, “Watching you cry breaks me in ways I can’t describe. And being the reason for your tears just destroys me, (Y/N). I’ll do anything to see you smile again.” 

Then, he presses his lips upon yours, reaching for the carriage door behind you. When he pulls away, he doesn’t give you a chance to reply, ushering you into your seat. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, baby,” he smiles. 

You’ve misjudged him for the third time tonight. Thinking he doesn’t care for you, thinking he left you, and thinking he doesn’t want you. All you can do now is pray that he forgives you for all the curses you’ve hurled his way. 

He chuckles and places kisses on both your hands. “It was very amusing actually.” 

You nod. “I’m sure.” But, you’re still sorry. 

With one last round of kisses over your knuckles, Jungkook promises, “I won’t be late.”

“I’ll be waiting regardless,” you immediately reply. 

The next three words are on the tip of your tongue. He can almost hear them, judging by the twitch of his brows. You don’t have a chance to say them though as he clears his throat and shuts the door. You watch him from the window, shakily exhaling. 

Jungkook calls the coachmen. The carriage jerks forward. The lasting image of his smirk, those sweet eyes and that muscular frame is all you try to see. However, in seconds, he’s pulled from view. The only memory you have of him remains with that sacrilegious confession in a fountain of fantasies. 

note; please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission.

#networkbangtan #btsguild #btswritingcafe #bangtanfairygarden #bangtanhq #goldenclosetnet #btsgoldnet #magicshopnet #jungkook smut #greek god au #jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook fluff #bts smut

[mcwriting]

A Science Project for the Ages

Big thanks to this anon for this request! Sorry it's taking me longer to fulfill my requests from when I was in quarantine but I'm trying to get those done soon!

This is a slight continuation of lab partners but can definitely be read alone :)

Ship: SoftNerd!Tom Holland x Reader

Word Count: 1883

Warnings: one blink-and-you'll-miss it bad word

⚛︎

There was a loud buzz as your phone vibrated against the wood table in the science library.

You quickly picked it up, trying not to disturb the few other students around as you looked down at the screen.

Tom.

Though you were together now, he very rarely called at this time. He knew you always studied here before dinner time and respected that.

You grabbed your notebook and bag and shuffled into the hall to answer.

"Tom? Is everything okay?"

"Hey, um. So sorry to bother you, but you've finished your science expo project, right?"

You furrowed your brows as you slid down the wall to sit and stuff your notebook back in your bag. You knew this conversation was going in a weird direction already. You could hear a faint beeping in the background.

"Uh, yeah..?"

"Right, and what was that project over again?"

"I did an analysis on light absorption of different common solutions and then compared them to the color they turned when I lit them on fire. I thought we already talked about this the other day..?"

"Yes, yeah, sorry. So one more question before I tell you what's up. Do you happen to know how to bake?" Tom asked quietly.

Suddenly you remembered what all his project was on.

He was doing a food chemistry project, explaining certain phenomenons that happen when you bake. He had hoped giving people baked goods would make them like his project more.

"I- Tom I told you I would help you but you said it would be fine," you said flatly."

"Well..... Now it's not fine, and Alex isn't here to help me. He went to his girlfriend's."

Tom's roommate. He was usually pretty patient with Tom's clumsiness, but sometimes he just had to get out and enjoy a day off, too. Tom understood, but now the burden fell on you.

"Fine, I'll be there in a little bit. Text me if you need me to bring anything."

⚛︎

You walked in to the smell of burnt. It was overwhelming and you choked as you rushed to the window to air out the apartment.

"Hey, sorry about the smell," Tom said nonchalantly from the kitchen.

You turned to see the situation at hand, which was definitely... a situation.

It was like something out of a movie. Messy bowls and utensils littered the sink. There was cake batter splattered across the counters. Finally, the culprit still sat in a muffin tin on the bar: a dozen very black cupcakes.

You sighed.

"Forgot to set the timer?"

"Yep."

"And let me guess. This was your first experience with baking?"

"That's exactly right."

"Of course," you muttered, but then clapped your hands together enthusiastically. "Well, then. Let's try and fix this, shall we?"

You leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to Tom's cheek, then brushed past him to grab the tray.

"First on the agenda, we are going to take off the papers and chuck these off the balcony to let out some frustrations, alright?"

You were lucky in that Tom's apartment was on the top floor, and his balcony faced a wooded area. The only thing he could hit was a tree and the food would eventually biodegrade into the soil.

You both tossed them, competing to see who could throw the farthest. It let Tom blow off some steam, and also gave more time to ventilate the place before you went back in.

After the last cupcake (if you could call it that) was tossed, you got started on cleaning everything up. He had used a lot of bowls for one boxed cake mix, but you didn't ask.

It took a while to make sure things were sufficiently clean, but finally everything was ready to make a new batch.

"Oh one other thing before we start. Have you ever made a meringue?" Tom asked as he preheated the oven, which you carefully supervised to make sure it was right.

"I mean, I've made some before. Why?"

"Well part of my project was talking about how egg proteins bind. They sound pretty easy. Just eggs and sugar, right?"

Your hand covered your eyes in disappointed surprise.

"What? No. Tom, meringues are like, notoriously one of the hardest things to get right. They land just before macarons, and meringue is one of the main parts of a macaron!"

"What are you talking about? How can something with two ingredients be that hard to make?" he tried to argue, but you weren't about to let him trick you into making something so difficult.

"Did none of your research explain how moisture, temperature changes, utensils used, and method of cooking affect the outcome."

"...Uh... no."

"Were you planning on using the Swiss, Italian, or French technique?"

".....I didn't know there was more than one."

"Well then you might go do a quick search to add to your presentation while I cover the cupcakes."

While he did that, you made up the batter and got the cupcakes in the oven (set at the right temperature for the right time), then got started making some frosting.

"Hey, y/n. Did you know you aren't supposed to make meringues in a plastic bowl?"

"Yep. Plastic can retain lipids which prevent proper binding. Same reason you can't whip the yolk."

"That's what this says! How did you know that?"

You shrugged.

"I like to bake. By the way, you better credit me as your pastry chef on the presentation."

"Will do."

He made some edits on the page and found a recipe claiming to be the easiest method, so you caved and agreed to help him make them when the cupcakes were done.

As you measured sugar and got the whisk attachment ready, you looked over and admired Tom as he meticulously separated the eggs.

You couldn't help but fall head over heels for him all over again seeing how he did each step carefully, all his focus on each little egg.

Sure, he was a little clumsy sometimes, but he was precious and cared about whatever he did.

It took what seemed like hours to get the egg whites whipped properly (and lots of arguing with Tom about what "stiff peaks" meant), but finally you had them in a piping bag and on a pan to bake.

You couldn't help but wait by the oven in anxious anticipation for the meringues to come out, even though they'd be in there for a while.

Tom sat right next to you on the (surprisingly) clean kitchen floor as you stared at the oven.

"Babe?" he asked softly, leaning into you.

You hummed a response, taking the opportunity to rest your head on his shoulder.

"Thank you for coming and helping me. I know you value your library time."

You smiled and sat back up, looking Tom in the eyes.

"You know, I wasn't really studying anyways. I was watching youtube videos with my headphones in because I didn't want to go home yet."

Tom had a mischievous grin and furrowed brow.

"So you just go there as an excuse to get away from me?!"

You laughed and knocked into him slightly.

"No! I just got done with my homework and wanted to hang around campus for a while... and I had a feeling you'd call eventually."

Tom gasped.

"You didn't trust me!?"

"Now that I can answer truthfully..." you started, causing him to pout. "I'm not saying I didn't trust you at all, it's just that I had never once heard of you baking and figured I would prepare myself accordingly."

"Does this mean that Alex knew too?"

"I can't speak on his behalf, but I'm glad it was just us anyways. I like getting to spend time with you like this." You paused to peck him on the lips. "Want me to read over your project? I know those spelling errors can slip by sometimes."

Tom grinned, wordlessly getting up and offering you a hand.

⚛︎

The expo was in full swing and you nervously stood on the other side of the room as your project to watch people walk by and observe your findings.

You had already given your presentation to the judging panel and now the expo was open to the public, so you tried to avoid stressing too much as you talked with some friends.

Suddenly a pair of warm arms came around your stomach and Tom's scent enveloped you.

"Hey baby, how ya feelin'?" he asked, resting his chin on your shoulder as your thumbs rubbed over his hands instinctively.

"You know me. A little nervous." You flipped in his arms to face him. "And what about you? The judges like our sweet treats?"

"They sure seemed too. Dr. Grand liked the meringues so much she asked for another."

You smiled.

"Well either way, I'm proud of us both."

"Thanks again for helping, I couldn't have done this without you. I made sure to emphasize how difficult meringue making is during my presentation thanks to you."

Finally your friends had enough of the cutesy bullshit and convinced you and Tom to rejoin the conversation, both of you with arms around each other as you conversed.

Time passed and eventually they gave prizes to the best projects of the expo. You knew you wouldn't win anything, there were some far better projects out there that included heavy research.

"And in first place, 'Science around us: the chemistry of baking' by Mr. Tom Holland! Congratulations! If all of our winners could come pick up their ribbons and get a photo for the newsletter, that would be great."

Tom stayed casually next to you, so you had to shake him and get his attention.

"Did you hear that Tom? You won!"

Tom blinked a few times, then gasped.

"I won!? I mean, we won!!?"

You rolled your eyes and pushed him forward.

"Go on, get your blue ribbon, baker boy."

He excitedly rushed up to the table where his prize awaited (tripping a few times, but you ignored that) and bounced on the balls of his feet as someone pinned the ribbon to his shirt.

You could see the sheer delight on his face as the winners took a group photo, and he practically skipped back to meet you.

You and your friends gave him congratulations as he happily looked down at the blue piece pinned to him.

He then unpinned it and tried to hand it to you.

"Now, don't congratulate me, y/n gets all the credit for making everything."

"No, no. It was your idea and you did the research. You deserve that more than anyone else. And plus, you were right. Baked goods did give you an edge over the competition."

"Well I say it was a science project for the ages!" he exclaimed, holding up the ribbon. You and your friends cheered to that.

"How 'bout we go celebrate your win over lunch, hm? The cupcake I had isn't holding me over and I'm starving."

"Sounds perfect, darling. Lead the way."

You happily headed off towards the nearest place on campus, completely oblivious to the fact that Tom had pinned his blue ribbon to your backpack.

He quickly made up time and slipped a hand into yours.

If nothing else, he was the boyfriend of the ages.

⚛︎

A/N: thanks to the anon who sent the request for this! I really enjoyed writing it! I think I could've improved some things but overall I'm pretty satisfied with it, and I hope you are too!

Permanent Tag List

Send a message or ask if you’d like to be added to my permanent or series taglists so I can verify you’ve been added!

@jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl, @agentnataliahofferson, @spider-babe, @justafangirlduh, @hollandswife

#a science project for the ages #tom holland #tom holland story #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland one shot #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland imagine