#the things buddy has to do to keep his profile low | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

harperinrealife · 8 months ago

Text

“Cufflinks.”

C/W: Mentions of death/killing (?), extreme sexual content, mentions of alcohol/drugs

A/N: Hi, this is my first fanfic on here and I’m still learning how to get around this app so please spare me if there’s any grammar errors or anything along those lines! Any who, please enjoy.

Jonathan Moore x afab!reader

Summary: Despite your distaste towards Jonathan Moore, the American that had just moved to London and was friends with your late husband, you find yourself in a conjoined room with Jonathan at Hampsie—an old castle in the English countryside with all your other eccentric friends and of course, Lady Phoebe, your best friend. Everyone is getting ready for the murder mystery party Lady Phoebe had planned for that evening and Jonathan comes into your room from the door you two share, asking for help with his cufflinks. While the offer is innocent, you and Jonathan find each other tangled in the intimacy of sex together.

♫: Crazy In Love from the “Fifty Shades of Grey” soundtrack, Beyoncé

London, the place to be. It was a new start: a fresh slate after what had happened in Mandre Linda and everywhere else. First it had been Candace, then it was Beck, and it was supposed to end with Love. But, Love just wasn’t for Joe—it was a cycle, a process, an endless circle that Joe was running around in. No matter how much he tried to bend the rules, to think things could be different, to do the utter most for the “love of his life”—he always ended up in the same spot, burying the “love of his life.” But, Jonathan Moore was going to have hope in this new life. He was going to believe that things can be different.

Jonathan, aka Joe, had gotten a job as a literary professor at the local University. Darcy university. Jonathan had became buddy-buddy with one of the other professors at Darcy university. Malcom Harding. And of course, Malcom Harding being himself, gave Jonathan the pent house just beside his own—Jonathan just having moved here to London and having no where to stay. Malcom and Jonathan were surely now to become friends now. Though, things begin to take a turn as Jonathan becomes more involved with Malcom and his group of friends—deception, drama, lines of cocaine, bottomless glasses of champagne—quite the group of emotive people.

Well, except for you. You were different. You were the one standing in the corner of a party, saying no to snorting lines of crack and not getting so drunk off your ass that you won’t remember that day—You had caught Jonathan’s eye but, you were married to Malcom, out of all people and had an absolute distaste for Jonathan. Now, despite having hope that things would be different, Jonathan promised to himself to keep a low profile and stay out of things (and people) that weren’t his. But you, you were something else and Jonathan couldn’t help but to indulge in you, even if you were playing hard to get and there was somewhat of a mutual dislike between you and Jonathan.

Jonathan has lived in London for a month now and crazy things have happened. Your husband has died. Your friends are beginning to catch onto his antics. You’ve hooked up with Jonathan a few times (regrettably), but—despite all of this, Jonathan finds himself being invited to Hampsie with all your friends and you. It was weekend getaway by the English countryside, far, far, far away from Jonathan’s responsibilities and his past. Maybe this could be good for him. Though, Jonathan couldn’t be too sure. Your friends were snobs, to say the least. Annoying, privileged, rich snobs who have gotten their whole life handed down to them by their parents. They hardly have any filter and who knows how things might go. If they catch on, it could ruin everything for Jonathan and he’d find himself behind bars and in handcuffs.

Jonathan was going to have a good time or at least he tried to convince himself when he arrived to his room at Hampsie. He set down his bag on the foot of his antique bed and began rummaging through it, making sure he had everything before he decided to do a little exploring in his room. Where’s the harm in that? Jonathan thought to himself as he began to take a look around. He’s got a decent view from his bedroom window. It’s a spacious room, he notes while approaching a randomly placed door. Without thinking much, Jonathan opens the door and he sees you, reaching for the doorknob prior to when he had opened the door. Jonathan freezes up a bit and takes a step back. “Sorry, I—“Can you help me untangle my necklaces?” You interrupted Jonathan to ask, evidently nervous. “They’re stuck and I’ve tried everything.” You added on, quickly turning around so Jonathan can examine the tangled necklaces, presumably having no one else nearby that could help you.

Jonathan inhales slowly and approaches you once more. He reaches out to assess the situation before beginning to tentatively untangle the necklaces with cold, trembling hands. He’s careful not to get too close and not to make the wrong move but, he can’t deny the desire stirring within him while he’s touching your skin like this. You’re so close, almost too close. Jonathan can feel the near warmth of your body, smell your expensive perfume, and feel your smooth skin with his own fingertips. It’s like you two been here before in this same exact moment and he can tell you feel it too. Your breathing becomes shallow, you become more warm, and a slight flush dusts over your complex.

Jonathan tries to hurry up and get his hands off you because it all feels too intimate—too much for him to handle right now. It wasn’t right. You two shouldn’t be doing this because Jonathan is a bad man but, when you turned around to face Jonathan after he’s untangled your necklaces successfully, his heart clenched in his chest and made him forget all logic. “Thank you.” You said simply to Jonathan while you swallow the lump in your throat. You reach up to your chest to toy with your necklaces, pressing your thumb to the gold charm on one of the necklaces you wore. “It’s no problem, really.” Jonathan says with a reassuring smile.

There was a pause of silence betwixt Jonathan and you. It was extremely tense and daunting. Jonathan wasn’t sure if you could hear his heart beating but regardless, he remained close and so did you. You feel it too, Jonathan mused to himself as his dark eyes trickle down to your lips, taking in their lushness and the rosy color of them. “I should probably get back to.. unpacking.” You said suddenly, breaking the tension that had built up within the past minute. Jonathan snapped himself out of whatever trance he was and cleared his throat. Not now, not ever, Jonathan internally groaned. I can’t. We can’t. We shouldn’t, not again. “Yeah, uhm,” Jonathan breathed out, attempting to find indifference. “I’ll catch you later?” God, why are you doing this to me. “Perhaps.” You mumbled cooly, as if brushing off this whole interaction and the undeniable chemistry you two had.

You give an obviously forced smile which came off as curt to Jonathan before taking a step back and turning around to head back in your room, leaving Jonathan to himself and the growing issue beneath his trousers.

It was day two of being at Hampsie and tolerating the cavalier people who were also staying at this old castle. This evening, everyone was getting ready for the murder mystery party Lady Phoebe was hosting—which required high maintenance appearances and participation. So of course, Jonathan found himself getting ready as well. He put on his best suit, made sure everything was precisely right and crisp but when it came down to cuffing his sleeves and putting on his cufflinks, he seemed to struggle. Jonathan forced himself to struggle for a bit longer before deciding to go to you for help, if you were willing. It was truly a fifty, fifty—feeling like Jonathan always had to walk on glass around you as if stepping on one of the wrong glass shards would upset you. Regardless, he still sought out you for assistance.

Jonathan walked into your room through the wooden door that separated your conjoined rooms and was immediately greeted to the sight of you getting ready for tonight, just like everyone else. You wore an elegant dress that clung to your body like a second skin. Your luscious hair was curled and your face was beaten with makeup that made your striking features pop. It wasn’t hard for Jonathan to admit that you were—in fact—attractive to him. You were nothing short of beautiful and stunning. Jonathan exhaled the breath he didn’t know he was holding, regaining his composure. “Can you help me with my cufflinks?” Jonathan asked as you turned to face him, your eyes pierced right through him, reminding him of that one evening in the garden after your husbands funeral—the alcohol on your lips, the heat of your body, your scent, the passion of the moment, and now, the fact he knew exactly what was under that dress. It made Jonathan’s mind wonder more.

Jonathan forced himself to get his mind out of the gutter as he felt your lithe, ring-adorned hands on his wrist, cuffing his sleeves before grabbing his golden cufflinks and fastening them on effortlessly. “Stop moving.” You grumbled, a look of concentration painting your face as you gently tugged at Jonathan’s wrists to get him to stop moving. “I’m not,” Jonathan says somewhat defensively. You glare sharply at the man and he immediately shuts up. Jonathan stays quiet, not wanting to frustrate you anymore as you talked about the plans for the night and focused on fixing his sleeves. Amid your focus, Jonathan couldn’t help but to admire more up close. He inhaled the perfume you wore, finding the scent familiar. His dark eyes drank in your body and the way your hips shifted and the way your lips twitched.

Jonathan must’ve been staring for too long because you cleared your throat, clearly frustrated when Jonathan had tried his hardest not to make you upset. “Why are you looking at me like that?” You inquired sharply, letting your hands fall from Jonathan’s perfectly cuffed sleeves before crossing your arms over your chest, giving Jonathan a better view of your cleavage. Jonathan quickly averted his gaze and met your cold eyes. He flushed ever so slightly under your scrutiny and he couldn’t managed to find any words. You stand there, glaring at Jonathan, the tension that was originally broken was back better than ever.

Though, one step led to another and all the sudden—your lips were on Jonathan’s and you were helping him shrug off his suit jacket. You two needed to be at dinner in less than twenty minutes but, the sexual tension was over consuming and impossible to resist. Jonathan couldn’t keep it in any more. He’s waited so long to have you again and he didn’t know if he could’ve waited any longer. The kiss between Jonathan and you was desperate and hungry. Jonathan’s tongue entered your mouth and savored the taste of you with his uneven breathing and his growing erection. As soon as Jonathan’s suit jacket was on the floor, he lifted you up by your thighs and sat you down on an antique chest by the foot of your bed, slotting himself between your thighs. “Jonathan,” You gasped when Jonathan’s hand pulled your panties to the side and he began to circle your swollen clit with an effortless skill. You grasped onto the edge of the antique chest, stabilizing yourself while you shifted your hips against Jonathan’s hand, searching for more friction.

Jonathan watched breathily, finding in pleasure watching you writhe against his hand and your icy demeanor break down into something more desperate and submissive. “That’s it,” Jonathan encouraged, slipping a finger into your wet pussy. “Just like that, Y/N.” Jonathan leaned down and captured your collarbone in his mouth, nipping at it before beginning to trail kisses up the side of your neck—feeling your thrumming pulse against his lips while he let you adjust to the sudden intrusion of his finger and listening to you groan. “Jonathan, I-I—” You whimpered, throwing your head back when Jonathan began to pump his finger in and out of your pussy. “Do you think you can handle two fingers?” Jonathan inquired huskily, pulling back just enough to see your face. You stare at Jonathan, flushed, breathless, and flustered while giving him a slow nod—having done this before with him, having faith and trust. Jonathan’s lips tilt into a lopsided smirk.

Jonathan was thrusting his two fingers into you while his thumb simultaneously circled your clit, sending you into a whirlwind of overwhelming sensations—waves of ecstasy drowning you and bringing you to a pleasurable death. His skilled digits curled upwards to hit your G-spot over and over again, paired with his thumb pressing against your clitoris—it didn’t take long for you to cross your climax. You involuntarily thrummed around Jonathan as he brought you over the edge. Your heart fluttered as you cried out, your nails digging into the antique chest beneath you to keep you grounded, feeling as if you were going to float away on cloud nine. You closed your eyes and threw your head back, that knot tied tight within your core finally coming undone as you came for the first time in weeks all over Jonathan’s fingers.

Jonathan slow pulled his fingers out of you after you came down from your climax and brought them up to his mouth, tasting you on his fingers. “Fuck,” He let out a groan as he cleaned up his fingers before he leaned in to kiss you once more, relishing in the feeling of your wrapping your legs around his waist while his hand trailed downwards to his buckle. Jonathan began to undo his buckle, unzip his pants, and get his erection out his boxers—his cock sprung out and his swollen tip brushed against your inner thigh. Jonathan shakily exhaled. His hands came down to hold onto your hips. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited and wanted to do this, Y/N.” Jonathan muttered breathlessly while positioning himself to enter your pussy, his body buzzing with anticipation and want. Jonathan then thrusted into you. His hands tightened around your hips, resisting the urge to rush and take you right then and there—he let you adjust, listening to the sound of your moans and your breath hitching every time he slightly shifted his hips.

“Oh, fucking shit…” You breathed out with parted lips when Jonathan began rocking his hips back and forth. You reached you to wrap your arms around Jonathan’s back as he laid you down fully on the antique chest, the shift in position forcing Jonathan’s cock to angle different—causing you to gasp out. “Jonathan!” You cried. Jonathan’s pace slowly intensified, going from slow and leisure to deliberately deep and haste, knowing that dinner was in less than five minutes. Jonathan didn’t want to draw any suspicion towards the two of them. “We… we need to hurry up,” Jonathan grunted out, going as fast as possible to get the job finished. “They’re gonna catch us.” Jonathan leaned down to bite the crook of your neck, muffling his groans as he continued to pound you into the antique chest below you two with your nails digging into his shoulders, sharp enough to draw blood if it weren’t for his shirt. His heart was pounding fast in his chest. He didn’t know how much longer he could last.

Due to how pent up you and Jonathan have been the past month, it didn’t take much more thrust before Jonathan was coming. He released his hot seed into you with a low, throaty groan. His pace slowed down to a stop and pulled back to look at your face. Your lipstick was smudged. Your face was flushed. Your lips were bruised. Your hair was in a disarray. Jonathan smirked at the sight, knowing he was the cause of your dishevelment. “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” Jonathan asked, reaching down to brush away the hair that had gotten into your mouth.

#you series #you netflix #joe goldberg #fanfic #jonathan moore #you #fanfiction #ao3 #enemies to lovers #penn badgley #he’s so fine #joe goldberg x you

28 notes · View notes

cosmica-galaxy · 11 months ago

Note

What does everyone do for fun while not fighting the skibidis? Both the Alliance Trio, Mimic.

Camron does training with groups of Cameramen in the base. Most of his downtime is also spent helping with moving cargo, loading trucks, and sifting through materials to get what they need to make more weapons and such. He's a grunt when he's not on the field, doing mostly labor and such. But that doesn't mean he can't lay back! When he has downtime, he visits his favorite human or watches some movies with his Cameramen battalion. Some popcorn after a long day is always rewarding. DJ loves visiting his fellow Speakermen and breaking it down on their makeshift dancefloors. He plays his music loud and proud, and his dance moves back up the energy he gets from his surrounding allies. He also practices actual dJing and remixes songs in his downtime. Learning new dances and songs to play and utilize with his friends, the human included! When he gets free from this war, he'll open up a club, just like he always dreamed! Vee spars with his fellow TVmen and even runs errands or low-profile missions for his faction. Most of his downtime, if he gets any, is spent with his favorite human, playing chess/checkers, or drinking some alcoholic beverages at a private bar in the community base. He also likes listening to jazz music, sharpening/maintaining his weapons, and processing files for the factions in his downtime. He also enjoys messing with the human when he can. ; ) Buddy is mostly by the human's side, but with the recent growth of the mimic division, he spends most of the time keeping his pack members in check and resolving issues just as a good alpha would. He also trains and disciplines Byte to prepare him for the role as an Alpha heir. Giving him responsibilities, tasks, and training to become a great leader. Depending on the season, he'll also visit new parents and welcome newborn campups into the clan with a formal ritual herald by himself. He's busy, but he'll always have time for the human. Pal visits his family in Sanctuary at least once a week and has even taking up a hobby of knitting and practicing songs. He also teaches Melody various aerial maneuvers and how to use her abilities like a true father would. He even takes her to visit Sanctuary so that she can see her grandparents! When he's home, he visits the human and the science team from time to time. He'll even run scouting missions to survey the surrounding territory for unwanted visitors and surveying for any places of interest or salvage. He's also great at flying at night, so night flight missions are given to him when an outpost needs supplies from the main base. Fiend is a surprisingly great artist and painter! He paints out scenarios and still life with remarkable accuracy! He revealed to the human that since he had no siblings or anyone else to play with growing up, as his parents were very aloof and solitary while raising him, he spent most of his life drawing and painting things out of boredom. He's also an avid and active reader of books and documents! He's surprisingly well-educated and informed on lots of topics. He even teaches Menace how to draw and read from an early age, making Menace the most educated out of the three children...and also the cleverest. When he has nothing else to do, he'll turn invisible and follow targets of interest to spy on them.

#haxorus imp #hax speaks #cosmica galaxy #cosmica-galaxy #skibidi tag #anonymous #anon asks #skibidi mimic #skibidi toilet mimic #anon ask

14 notes · View notes

tehshelaroxx · 7 months ago

Text

I guess there'll be no letting by-gones be by-gones after all...(eyesore warning)

Well now that all of us is blocked, even those that was good to my ex and stayed out of the friction in general, I guess it's okay to say what I really want to say. I have my suspicions about the sudden influx of blocks but I'll keep those to myself for now.

First off, I would just like to say hi. I know you and others are out there holding on for any drip of information, and I just want you to know I'm doing fine without you. It hasn't been easy, I'll be the first to admit it, but I'm coming to accept it is what it is with you no matter how much I wish it was different. The thing is I would have never given up on you as hard and as fast as you did me and my loved ones, all that you claimed to love as well, but not everyone is built the same I suppose. I do hope you remember when you're promising new boo forever and calling you two soulmates you did the same to me years ago. Clearly those words meant nothing to you then, who knows if they do now?

Secondly, I would just like to say what you put online and share with friends on social media is PUBLIC INFORMATION. So you can't really get mad when people tell me what you post and that you're chasing after some guy you were talking to when we were a thing. You can't be mad when people show me your PROFILE PICTURE that has you and your proclaimed "friend" in the profile picture. Did any one of us, my family, my friends, or myself included personally bother you? No. Did any of us personally bother him? No. Was I within my right of being hurt and upset when I saw this? Yes. But it makes sense. I can remember you talking about that same guy when we were fucking around and how you'd always frame him as "my buddy J*n" like why would you have needed to frame him that way for sure if nothing else was going on? I'm stupid but I'm not that stupid. A lot of things make sense now that didn't back then and when you told me that you didn't really believe I was into women, I wholeheartedly believe YOU WERE PROJECTING. I was a matter of convenience to you and nothing more. When the new shiny thing with a penis came along, you wanted it instead. Clearly.

Thirdly, what have you done to improve yourself since you left me high and dry at a low point in my life? Something a real friend or someone who loved you would NEVER do, I would have never done that to you and you KNOW I wouldn't have. Oh that's right. Not a damn thing besides pretending to be something you're not with people that probably think they're better than you. You haven't got professional psychological help, you haven't changed a thing about your lifestyle, AND you waited a single year after our 25 year friendship/10 year relationship turned situationship to so conveniently "move on" with some guy you met on xbox live. Because its easier to get underneath someone new than sit with your thoughts and feelings and to try to make something last. I should have known better. I knew deep down you didn't care about me but I hoped and prayed I was wrong but damn if you didn't prove me RIGHT every single time. I sincerely hope and pray you get some help and get well soon because you certainly need it. I'm not perfect and I'll be the first to admit, I can sit with my past demons but can you? I've grown up but have you really? Or are you just stuck in a perpetual cycle of high school pettiness agged on by those around you? Maybe sit and think about that sometime.

Lastly, I want you to know how much I loved you. I loved you to the moment that new profile popped up on Christmas and my mom tearfully showed it to me, tearfully because she knows how badly I've suffered since you threw me away like a piece of trash. I loved you all the times you told me not to because its all I know how to do. I've only hurt myself in the long run in doing so because I knew then and know for sure now that you don't want me. Someone who loved me wouldn't go to the lengths that YOU have to be hurtful and to kick me while I'm down. I have held onto hope that this fling with ol J**n-Boy would be a temporary thing and you'd eventually come to your senses and choose something willing to fight to last out of love that has been a part of me since we were children. But why do that when you can relive the honeymoon phase over and over again with someone new? Why fix the old lackluster thing when you can just go out and get something shiny and new right? You told me we were soulmates and then you didn't have the nerve to apologize when you broke that promise. You promised me forever just like you're promising him so I guess words are cheap huh? You pretended to love me and my family and my friends for years until you just got bored with me. Because you know I have proof to show I've did the work. I'm in counseling, I'm medicated properly, I practice yoga and self-discipline...I'm making an active effort to be better whether you or anybody else wants to give credit or not. I've put in the time and energy to grow and be a better person and change but it's not just on me to do that. Obviously you see little to no fault in yourself though since you just ran and got with someone else so I guess I just have to accept that you don't want me and probably never will again (if you ever truly did) no matter what I do to prove to you that I love you and WOULD DO ANYTHING for you and your loved ones just to be worthy enough of you loving me and wanting to stay by my side. I spent my entire life wanting to grow with you, wanting a home, a family, etc. but I guess I'm not good enough to you for that, am I? No some rank stranger who's a cis GUY is much better suited for settling down, huh?

I hope you have the life you deserve and if this is the end of us, I hope you know it's your loss and I pray you meet someone who is like holding up a mirror to yourself and gives you twice the heartache you've given me. You not only lost me, but you lost my mom who has been better to you than your own mom more often than not, and family and friends who loved you and genuinely wanted to see things work out. With that being said, I will continue to tend to your grandparents' gravesites when I visit my dad at the graveyard because they were my family at one point. It's no longer with my love of you in mind, it's for me.

Que sera sera.

#tw depressing thoughts #cw depressing thoughts #don't be fooled #this really is the end huh #don't reblog #venting #heartbroken #tehshelaroxx #themuseabides

2 notes · View notes

ivi-prism · 2 years ago

Note

Will there be any developments between the DSMP FWT for the AU or are they doomed forever? :0

No.

The end /j

I jest X3 who am i but someone that likes characters to crumble and then try and make sense of things <3

Mr.god complex Dream and paranoid,depressed,extremely tired single dad Fundy would never patch things over.

But thats the thing. Can Mr.God complex face the randomness and sheer vastness of the multiverse and realize he has no power and come out of the other end still having a god complex?

No.

No he cannot.

Coderdy is more familiar with the multiverse (he is a coder he can literally see the fabric of the universe X3) and his leading theory is like all Fundys they are sensible to the multiverse nonesense (glitches and what not) and (dsmp) Fundy linked with him and brought himself and yogi here to escape danger (the whatvering) but since in this universe there was no yogi, universe went “well dream + fundy = yogi” and thats why the pairs ended up switched.

All that knowledge. Fucking breaks dream. Knowing he could have simply be torn appart through a multiversal event. And he is only alive because his ex accidentally saved then he wasn’t even considered to be included in that accidental rescue.

Knowing everything he aspired to have control over doesn’t exist anymore. The places, the things, the people. Breaks him.

Knowing punz is gone. And not just him. But people he had hated so much. And also people he had forced himself to stop caring for. And people he wasn’t aware he would like to simply see again. Breaks him.

Seeing what actual power is, seeing Coderdy modify reality with ease when the extent of his powers was to revive people under specific conditions. Breaks him.

Seeing an alternate version of himself. Happy, care free, recognized and appreciated. Happier than he ever was in his persue. Breaks him.

And after so many world shattering events. It dawns on him. Fundy. His Fundy. His ex fiance is right there. And his son. Is right there. His son he only ever knew existed. Is right there and he is two years old and Dream had never even seen him. And that is all dream knows remains of his old life. That is the first realization that will set him of the path of active change.

Very selfishly mind you. The god complex, self centeredness and the *gestures to the whole cubito* that, is not vanishing just cause man had like 35 existential crisis.

And fundy being resentful, angry and so so so so betrayed is defitnely not going to help things.

If it were up to fundy he’d asked coderdy to just send him and yogi back again and leave Dream stranded there.

Thats not possible cause well there aren’t supposed to go outta your universe like this and if Dream stays, mh!Dre and him will implode. And Fundy recognizes mh!Dre is just an innocent party here that just has the misfortune of being an alternate version of his shitty ex -.-

Dsmp!fwt + yogi will have to go back. And that wouldn’t necessarily mean them fixing things but guess what. This is a crack au :3 i can go “and then!” So whatever happens happens X3.

An smp fucking exploding in a time (space?) anomaly isn’t normal. Fundy wouldn’t like to be captured as a multiverse sensitive person thank you. And Dream doesn’t want to answer for all the EVERYTHING that happened in dsmp.

So easy. Fundy will go to the people that fix things (Hermits) cause if he makes it to Vault Hunters he can keep low profile there while fixing stuff.

Dream doesn’t have anywhere to go (buddy burned all his bridges). That is not Fundy’s problem >.>.

Except it is.

Coderdy can’t send them to two seperate places less that causes more problems >.>

And if Dream passed through VH well that will cause problems for fundy so they are gonna have to figure out what they’ll do beforehand -.-

But they can’t stay here cause this is not their universe so Coderdy is like “oh hey just chill in a pocket dimension while you figure it out”

Dsmp!fwt says “what”

And coderdy shows them his one block skyblock pocket dimension where he has a house where they can stay and solve things without risking imploding.

Through multiversal shenanigans and plot contrivances. They’ll have to co-parent and co-habit and get their shit together

And they will -w-. Slowly X3

Meanwhile you have streamlined!fwt hanging out for like a week and deciding to start their own romcom lmao

#asks for ivi #nicadenic #fwt swap au #fundywastaken #i love self indulgent crack -w-#cause its not off the walls crack is just ‘overtly complicated stuff to justify bs’ XD

10 notes · View notes

immoreofanideaskindaguy · 2 years ago

Text

NaNoWriMo day 5

Okay so Clark is this guy, right? So far just run of the mill guy. But why does he end up in the town? I’m thinking that, aside from some kind of natural calling that has to do with the creepy vortex thing in the mine, I think his family mentioned that he had a family member there.

Something like, old Uncle Al is buried out in Corkscrew Valley (working town name, probably won’t be that) and Clark just clings to the name. when it’s time for him to run away from his current city (still trying to think of a reason why he needs to drop everything and run to the mountains) that’s the only place out there he knows to go to.

Once he gets there he tried to keep as low a profile as he can; he’s not a very personable guy, but of course he starts running out of money and needs to find a job and that’s when he meets his first buddy in town, whoever that ends up being.

In general, Clark: super cagey guy, everyone else just wants to be nice. Except for maybe this complete jerk of a sheriff who serves as a minor antagonist.

That’s all I got for tonight

#writeblr #writing #writers on tumblr #writing community #nanowrimo #weird fiction #wip #story ideas #appalachian gothic #mountains #mine #spooky #character development #Clark #maybe I should drop everything and run away to the mountains #you know for research

0 notes

skinnywalker · 2 years ago

Text

Professional protector (Aaron Hotchner x nanny! male reader)

It's become a slight problem. Most nights it Hotch was late. Some he wasn't home at all and babysitters were only so reliable.

"You're really using Garica to get a other new babysitter?"

"I'm not trust random teens with my boy."

Emily rolls her eyes and pulls away the file of potential names.

"Can't you just hire a full time?"

Hotch groans.

"Same problem."

"Well it's either a once time issue or a till-jack-is-grown issue so make up you mind."

She's right of course, he needs to just bite the bullet.

After nearly an hour of barely scrapable options Hotch's attention was caught by a face.

Young, clean cut, handsome and with a bakround in child care. He gives Hocth a strange stomach twist, the kind he felt in high-school when he meet Harley. That same at once connection.

"Is he free?"

"Looks like it. Says on his employee web page he is open for full weekdays."

"Send that to me would you?"

Garcia can't help the small grin that crosses her lips.

"At once my lord."

From his nightstand the buzz of that familiar notification sounds him awake.

Clients.

He checks the profile his boss Diane always sends but this one is different than normal. He is used to business men who don't have time for their children but the man is an FBI agent and high in ranks too.

Doesn't look half bad either.

"How much is the pay?

"60 an hour."

He stops dead in his track.

"60? For one child and house sitting?"

"Ahuh. He asked me if that was too low."

"Too low?!"

She smiled at him with a gleam I her eyes.

"He really wanted you specifically."

Hotch keep glancing at his watch. He wasn't late but Hotch was nervous he might be.

"Excuse are you Mr. Hotchner?"

He's pretty in person Hotch thinks. More real. More warm. He's bright-looking but not cocky. Fair featured but no vain. He could reach out his hand and Hotch would near before him to kiss it without even thinking.

"Yes, you must be the nanny."

"Ahuh. Would you like to go over the details of what you need me to do while your away?"

Hotch smiles. He has no clue why but it feels natural.

"Of course."

Hotch leads him through the house explain everything he needs from the house care side of things.

"-and if you can't try to fold the blankets to fit in properly I'd be really thankful."

"Of course. What about your son?"

"Jack spends most of the day at school. He still in k-8 and does sometimes need homework help. He can make his own food but often prefers it made. He has 2-3 hours of screen time weekdays and 4 on weekends. He'll want to call me when I'm out of town which you can also do if you need anything."

He nods. Simple kid.

"He always wants to come along on grocery trips and basically anytime you leave the house."

Hotch hands him the house keys.

"And most importantly he'll ask for want he wants and his bedtime is 8:30."

"Got it. I call you at night if I have questions."

"Daddy?"

The two turn to see a sleepy toddler standing in door way. His spider-man pj's frumbled from napping.

"Hey Jack buddy, this is your new babysitter. He'll be here all day till I come back in the evenings so you don't have to be alone at home."

Jack looks up. Hotch feels the two smiling at eachother. His heart is aching know Jack is already bonding with the nanny. This have been a good idea.

"I have to go home today Jack but I'll see you again tomorrow ok?"

"Ok! Can we play with my Lego pirates."

"We can play whatever you want to Jack."

Hotch loves that smile on Jack. The innocent love. His boy is safe.

"Hotch? We have an emergency."

"What is it J.J.?"

"Ten victims all male in their 20s and the unsub is moving."

"I'll be there in ten mintues."

Hotch's body knows the routine of his morning work runs so well it work on autopilot.

Lastly he kisses Jack's sleeping head and text his new nanny 8 words.

"Flying for work for at least a week."

He'll get what I mean Hotch thinks before he stops himself. Why is he so sure? He doesn't even know the guy and he is trusting him like an old friend already. That's not good but Hotch can't seem to stop himself. He doesn't trust easily but something about him is so safe. So at home at ease. Hotch hates how his walls are just gone the moment he met a pretty man who takes care of his son. Hotch hopes he'll stay.

"He's targeting men who seem successful in love. Men with kids and partners and well paying jobs. Young man living how he wants to live. And he does it through robbery and hold ups. He is choosing targets on the fly."

"Where do we thinking he is making his way to?"

"Maybe his home or his get away car. I don't think he can keep this up for too long and I know he thinks that too."

At the hotel Hotch picks up his nightly call.

"How's your nanny been buddy?"

"I love daddy! He is super smart and he knew all about the history for my test on Tuesday and he makes such good pasta and he read me all the books I have trouble with!"

Hotch feel his stomach twist again. Just like a dad.

"That's great buddy. I'm glad you like him so much."

"He is gonna be my new best friend."

"I'm sure he will sweets now you need to good to bed."

"Ok, Goodnight daddy."

"Sleepwell Buddy. I love you."

"Love you too!"

He's safe. He's for the first time Hotch feels confident in thinking that Jack is really safe and happy. He sleeps better that night then he has in a while.

"Unsub is now in Virginia and he's getting risky. Going straight for our home now. He might even be there at this moment."

"So we came out here just to go home?"

"No, we came out here to know for certain he is home. Let's go."

Jack had asked to come along to the Cafe. He had followed his nanny to the counter and was rewarded with a small pink lemonade.

"Have you ever tried limeade or just lemon?"

He shakes his head no.

"Never liked lime. Too sour."

He chuckles.

"I like a lot of sour things especially ones that have some sweet in them."

"Everyone get on the floor! This is a hold up and if everyone behaves no one will get hurt."

Jack looks up confused and then frighten.

"Nanny?"

"Comere Jack. Everything will be alright."

"We've tracked him to a Cafe he's holding up. Swat is on their way but we don't time on our side."

"How fast can we get there?"

"20."

"20 is not fast enough."

"You, with the blonde kid. Move up here."

His arms wrap around Jack and gently lead them both to the front.

"Give him to me."

"No."

His breathing hitches.

"I'm not letting you near him. You'll have to take me first."

The click of the handriffle echoed in his ears before he felt the the world go black.

When the room came back into focus he realized he was in the ER. His chest was burning. He could feel the dizziness bringing him in and out of blurry awareness.

"Hey, just rest, you're really injured."

"Jack.. what about Jack?"

"He's safe with his father."

A knock at the door interrupts them.

"Hello Doctor is it OK for me to see him?"

"Mr. Hotch? Is that you?"

Hotch leans over the hospital bed brush some hair.

"How are you feeling?"

"I've been worse."

"Worse than shot?"

He giggled even though it hurt.

"Yeah. I'm better knowing Jack is safe."

"He was really scared for you, so was I. You don't know how much it means to me that you put yourself in such danger for my boy."

"I'd do it again."

Hotch felt strange. On one hand he was deeply relieved that he was safe but such a close call had his nerves in a twist. It was like a weight had been added to his psyche. Hotch couldn't let anything happen to him. He felt protective.

"How is he?"

"Exhausted but ok."

"Hotch I know he is just your nanny but you seem pretty worried."

"I can't help but be. He nearly died keeping Jack safe. I don't know what could've happened if I hired someone less bare. This whole time I've felt so.... connected with him. Like he is someone who I can trust."

"Does Agent Aaron Hotchner have a slight crush."

Oh no.

#aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x male reader #aaron hotchner x male reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds x male reader #criminal minds x reader

808 notes · View notes

dialovers-translations · 2 years ago

Text

Diabolik Lovers CHAOS LINEAGE ー Laito [03]

Monologue

Even after a few days passed by,

Laito-kun did not show any signs of going back to normal.

Not only am I only allowed to walk freely inside the manor,

but Laito-kun follows me around everywhere I go,

as my personal guard.

Under those circumstances,

I could not even look further into,

what was going on with my own body.

It was right as I had started to grow impatient,

as time just relentlessly ticked by.

Carla-san decided to suddenly,

call everyone togetherーー

ー The scene starts in the dining lounge of the Violet manor

Yui: ( Everyone has gathered. Even though they’re all familiar faces...They all feel distant. )

( I guess everyone has had their memories messed with after all. They don’t remember anything about their former selves. )

Carla: Seems like everyone is here.

Subaru: What did you want to talk about?

Carla: I have been keeping a close eye on things ever since we collected Eve, but it is still unclear to me how to become the Supreme Overlord.

There has not been any evolution on Eve’s side either, has there?

Laito: Yeah. I’ve been closely by her side 24/7, but she hasn’t shown any changes.

You don’t have any clue on how to become the Supreme Overlord either, do you?

Yui: N-No. Not at all...

Subaru: Che...You still haven’t remembered that crap?

Yui: ( That’s easy for him to say, but I don’t even know what exactly this ‘Supreme Overlord’ entails. )

Azusa: I’m sure that...it’ll just take time for her to remember.

Kou: Ehー? But that’s a problem, isn’t it? I’m pretty sure the other Houses will come to attack us.

Yui: Eh? The other Houses will?

Carla: Exactly. Our two rivaling houses...Orange and Scarlet.

While they appeared to keep a low profile at first, they have been showing signs of suspicious movement as of late.

Yui: I-Is that true?

Kou: I spotted Yuma and his buddies investigating our manor the other day.

Azusa: Ruki-san and his brothers...as well. They showed signs of wanting to take action soon...

They might come to attack us sooner rather than later...

Subaru: Che, what a pain.

Yui: ( I had no idea those things have been taking place since I came here. )

( Ayato-kun and Kanato-kun are at Ruki-kun’s place. )

( At this rate, it’ll turn into a fight between brothers... )

Carla: We must avoid conflict with the other Houses until Eve regains her memories. Keep that in mind, everyone.

Kou and Azusa will continue to look into the movements of the other Houses.

Kou: Roger!

Carla: I shall leave the protection of this manor in Subaru’s hands. Do not sleep on the job, understood?

Subaru: Oh fuck off...I know already.

Laito: Hey, Carla. I can continue to watch over Bitch-chan, right?

Carla: I do not mind. However, keep an eye on her at all times, no matter what.

Laito: Of course! Leave it to me! I won’t lose her out of sight for even a split second.

No matter the time or place...Do you get what I mean~?

Subaru: Freak...

Azusa: Laito...You shouldn’t bother her too much, okay...?

Laito: Don’t worry about that. The two of us are close friends!

Right, Bitch-chan~?

Selection

→ We are (♡)

Yui: Y-Yeah. We’re very...close.

( We’re dating after all. So this isn’t wrong to say, is it? )

Laito: See? Didn’t I tell you? Our bond is so close, we don’t need to worry about anything.

Subaru: Che, ‘close bond’, my ass.

Laito: Oh? Are you envious of me perhaps, Subaru-kun?

Subaru: You bastard. Do you want me to crush you?

→ I think our relationship is pretty average (🖤)

Yui: I think our relationship is pretty average...

Laito: Eh~? How cold. We’ve done so many things together though. I mean, just the other day, weーー

Yui: Wait, time out! You don’t need to tell that!

Laito: Oh~? Did you remember? It was quite a wild night, wasn’t it?

Yui: Don’t make it sound even more misleading!

Subaru: You basically have to spend day and night together with this pervert while he’s watching over you, right? I could never.

Carla: ...

Yui: ( Even Carla-san is looking at me with pity...!? )

Carla: That is all. Do not allow any member of the other Houses to invade this manor. This is all so I can become Supreme Overlordーー

ー The scene shifts to the empty bedroom

Yui: ( Supreme Overlord...huh? They’re all fighting over the throne. )

( Besides, if things stay the way they are, it’ll definitely lead to a full-fledged war. )

( The fight I saw at the Church... That wasn’t just a quarrel, they were actually out to kill each other. )

( I have to avoid that! But...How? )

*Thud*

Laito: Ah! Found you, Bitch-chan!

Yui: Laito-kun? Uhm, could you knock...?

Laito: Oh geez, we’re past that point, aren’t we?

Yui: ( Yeah...Well, I’m used to it from back at the Sakamaki manor so I don’t actually mind... )

Laito: Geez, you suddenly disappeared after the meeting was over, so I’ve been looking around for you.

Yui: Ah...My bad. I wanted to sort out my thoughts by myself for a bit.

Laito: Even so, I’m in charge of watching over you, so you shouldn’t leave me side, remember?

If something were to happen to you, I’d be in big trouble.

*Thud*

Yui: ( Wait, he sat down on my bed without asking. I mean, it’s fine with me... )

Laito: What’s wrong? You look serious. You must have been pondering over something important?

Yui: Well, how to put it...

( I don’t think he’d regain his memories even if I were to talk to him about it. )

( Still, I can’t do much all by myself, so if I had an ally to rely onーー )

Laito-kun, I’d like to ask your advice on something. Will you hear me out?

Laito: Your listless expression is wonderful as well. Of course, I’m all ears.

Yui: Isn’t there any way we can stop this fight over the title of Supreme Overlord?

Laito: Why?

Yui: Because I don’t want to have to witness you guys fighting and getting hurt.

Laito: Hmー You’re so kind. Even though you’re playing the role of the captured Princess right now, you’re still thinking about the wellbeing of others as well.

However...That’s impossible.

Yui: How come...!?

Laito: I mean, Carla, Ruki and Reiji all have their minds set on becoming Supreme Overlord.

I doubt you’d be able to stop them, no matter how hard you try to convince them.

Yui: No way...

Laito: Well, to be honest, I personally could care less about this whole ‘Supreme Overlord’ stuff~

I’m happy as long as I can have fun and I’d rather stay out of trouble.

Still, as long as Carla is determined to get the throne, I have to at least put in some effort or he’ll get on my case.

Yui: That’s why...You’re helping out in this fight?

Laito: Yup. I’ll fulfill my necessary duties.

Yui: ( Laito-kun doesn’t seem to question it at all. )

( Is there really nothing that can be done about it? Do I really just have to sit here and watch as a war breaks loose...? )

Laito: Well, that being said, the duty which has been given to me is to watch over you.

It really is the best job. All I have to do is keep you company after all.

Of course, it comes with a lot of extra privileges as well.

ー He leans closer

*Rustle*

Yui: Kyah!

Laito: Why don’t we pretend to be a couple again~? Let’s have some fun together.

Yui: I-It isn’t pretending! We are an actual couple...

Laito: Then how exactly did we show our love for each other as a couple?

I’d love to hear that from you directly?

Yui: Well...

Laito: Fufu, look at you getting flustered. I wonder what kind of dirty things are going through your head right now?

You get a kick out of pain and suffering, so I’m sure I’ll be able to try out many different kinds of fun things with you.

Ah, right. One second, okay? I’m pretty sure that in this room...

Yui: Eh...?

( He’s searching for something? I have a bad feeling about this...! )

Laito: ...Ah, found it.

Look, I’m sure you love this sorta thing, don’t you?

Yui: ...Scissors? Don’t tell me...W-Wait!

Laito: Look you terrified. What did you think I’d do to you with these?

Yui: Hyah!

( He’s running the scissors along my cheek! )

Laito: Keep still, okay? I might end up scarring your pretty skin after all.

Ah, I guess it might not be bad to do so on purpose.

Deep crimson blood dripping from your fair skin...I get excited just by imagining it.

Yui: S...Stop...

Laito: Sure, I’ll stop. But in returnーー

*Thud*

Yui: Kyaah!

( He cut into my clothes..!? )

Laito: It’s just a scrap so it might not be long enough? Oh well, I just gotta tie it real tight then.

*Rustle*

Yui: Eh? W-What!?

Laito: Okay, first move your arms behind your back, then I’ll fix them in place with the cut-off fabric...There we go.

*Rustle*

Laito: There, all done! What a lovely sight~

Yui: ( No way! I can’t move...! )

Laito-kun, please! Untie me!

Laito: What are you saying? What’s the point in tying you up if I’m just going to remove it right after?

Haah...Just watching you tied up like that really makes my imagination run wild...

Yui: ( ...In that case, I’ll have to find a way to loosen it myself... )

*Rustle rustle*

Yui: Kuh...

( I-It’s no use...It only got even tighter from trying to loosen it. How did he tie this knot!? )

Laito: What are you doing now? I wouldn’t make it that easy to untie.

*Thud*

Yui: Well then...What do you want me to do next? Should I give your legs the same treatment?

Yui: N-No...

Laito: Despite your protests, your blood seems very happy with this situation?

See? When I run my fingers across your skin, a sweet smell emits from underneath...

Yui: ...No...

( H-He’s running his nails across...Who knows what he might do to me right now... )

Laito: You look lovely from behind as well. I can’t help but want to bite down into your fragile-looking back.

Yui: I-I’m begging you, don’t run your nails across...

Laito: What’s wrong? Does it feel good? Or are you yearning for my fangs, perhaps?

Yui: That’s not it, please, just untie me...! Now’s not the time for this sorta thing!!

Laito: ...Oh shut up. You know what will happen when you say things that’ll ruin the mood, right?

Yui: ...!

( Right now, Laito-kun sees me as nothing but a plaything or a prey... )

( Even though I’m with the guy I love...why is my body shaking...? )

Laito: Nfu~ What a good girl you are, going quiet. I suppose I’ll have to give you a reward.

On certain CGs, little black roses will appear on the screen. If you click on them, you get an extra line of dialogue.

“Girls are so nice. So soft and fragile...I can’t help but want to mess them up real good.”

“Ah-ah~ Because you kept struggling, both your nape and your shoulder...Ah, even your back as well, they’re all fully exposed.”

Laito: Nnー What a lovely scent...It’s telling me to dig in. ...Nn...Nnh...

Yui: Uu...Aah...!

Laito: Geez, Bitch-chan. If you squirm around like that, your clothes will come off, see?

Yui: ( Ah...! The fabric’s ripping open starting from the cut he made earlier...! )

Laito: You want to show me your body that badly? In that case, I better get a thorough look. Come on, squirm around even more.

Yui: Y-You can’t...!

Laito: Fufu...Then do your best to endure it, okay?

ー He bites down again

Laito: Nnh...Nn...Haah...

Yui: Aah...

( Because I can’t move my arms...It makes it more difficult to ignore the feeling of his fangs... )

Laito: See? Have you realized? Just by retraining your arms like this, it doubles the fun, no?

Yui: No more...

Laito: ...Oh come on, we both know you don’t want me to stop. Your blood keeps on growing richer, you see?

Like it’s trying to tempt me into drinking even more. Nn...

Yui: Nn...Aah...

Monologue

ーー I want to do something about this situation.

Despite feeling that way,

I have absolutely no idea where to even start.

When I know very well,

that while I’m here having my blood sucked by Laito-kun,

the others might just be getting everything ready,

to commence the war.

I want Laito-kun to remember.

I want everyone to stop fighting.

Yet there is nothing I can do.

It felt like all my emotions were being numbed,

by the overwhelming sense of powerlessness.

Laito: Haah...Oh dear? Did she faint again? We were only just getting started too.

Still, Eve’s blood really is superb.

So much so I start thinking how nice it would be to have this blood all to myself, which sounds totally out of character for me...

...Uu...

Those dizzy spells again...? How strange...

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #laito sakamaki #chaos lineage #diabolik lovers translation #cllaito3

56 notes · View notes

subpar-ghoulfriend · 4 years ago

Text

Live In Nanny

Villain!All Might x Reader

All Might raising baby Deku but is in desperate need of a nanny.

TW: Yandere themes, breeding kink (our villain is ready to make the reader a mommy), dub con

AN: literally just took Hero All Might and flipped him upside down. So baseline form is big buff boi and villain form is lanky but retains the strength.

Single father with a nine month old child, seeking live in nanny services. Negotiable pay. Negotiable time off/vacation days.

Toshinori was impressed with your interview. You had over 8 years of experience working with children between babysitting and working at a day care. Plus Izuku took to you immediately. It was just a bonus that you were easy on the eyes.

You agreed to begin immediately, trying not to let on that you were in desperate need of money and a place to stay. You didn't have much to move in. And, in comparison to the huge room you had been given, it seemed like you owned even less. You figured your new boss must get paid well. His house was huge, the largest you'd ever been in.

Your room was next to baby Izuku's. Settling in to a routine with the baby was easy. You weren't sure exactly what your employer did for a living, his schedule was sporadic, he would be in and out throughout the day. Whenever he was available he would stop by to love on the infant. It was clear that he was doing his best as a single parent, but house keeping wasn't his strong suit. You tried your best to help out with the chores and grocery shopping, after all he was paying you graciously and giving you a roof over your head.

The only bump in the road so far has been getting Toshinori's permission to take the little one on walks through the nearby park. According to the father, errands were one thing but what was the point of going to park? Izuku can't even walk, there wouldn't be any benefit. Eventually you convinced him, after rambling about how good it is for babies to be exposed to different levels of stimulation. You could show Izuku the ducks and dogs, plus he could see all the pretty spring time flowers.

The older man was worried, he feared that his child, and you for that matter, would be targeted by his enemies. Plenty of low life's would love to make a move against the notorious villain. But you wore down his resolve. So long as you would tell him before you went. Thankfully he could play it off as being a bit of a helicopter dad. He always has a spare crony he could send out there to watch over you two.

---

"What are you both doing," your bosses laugh filled the air.

You were in a very flattering position, palms on the floor stretching through your hips, ass hiked up with a tempting arch to your back. Then you pushed yourself forward, giving the giggling baby raspberries before returning to your original position.

"Baby yoga!" You smiled, oblivious to the growing bulge in the villains pants. "Right now we're doing downward facing dog and cobra."

He watched you cycle through the motions, hypnotized by your movements.

You took such good care of him and his baby. Ever since you got here you went above and beyond (very plus ultra of you). You even packed his meals to go when he had to rush off to a job. And you did it all with a smile and his kid bouncing away at your feet. The man allowed his mind to drift to the thought of you with his babies, Izuku on your hip and your round belly ready to pop.

You made an amazing nanny but you would make an even better housewife.

---

It wasn't until a week after Izuku's birthday that you learned about your bosses occupation. You were at the park and a stranger approached you to coo over Izuku.

"Such a little cutie, this is Toshi's kid, right?"

That caught you off guard, how did this person know Toshinori? You knew he was a protective dad and there something about this woman felt off.

"Well, either way, this is for you," she smiled as she passed you a manila envelope. "A little birdie wants you to have it."

You skeptically eyed the parcel as the woman disappeared through the park. You shoved it into Izuku's diaper bag before rushing back home.

You decided to peek into the envelope after settling 'Zuku down for the night. You curled onto the chair in his nursery, using his nightlight too sift through the documents. Various photos of Toshinori, your employer, amongst high profile criminals. Photos of the most terrifying villain among his infamous exploits. And finally a piece of paper with a single web address and access code. This was the most damning piece of evidence, All Might - the villain himself - joking amongst his companions before transforming into the man you knew as Izuku's father. Without this video you would have never even guessed. All Might was known for his unassuming nature, his slender frame concealing his god-like strength. Still he looked terrifying, like make children cry type terrifying. Toshinori on the other hand was massive but his sunny attitude made him approachable. For all these months you had been working for a criminal. A criminal with a child. You had been living with him, laughing and raising a baby, taking care of him and his family. Oh god, your late night fantasies of your boss, a total DILF, were fantasies of a sadistic monster.

The betrayal and shame brought you to tears. You should call the cops. Take Izuku far away from this place, from being exposed to his fathers atrocities. But you were torn, he was a good dad, he always put his son first and provided him with only the best. He would tear the world apart for Izuku even if he had to put a target on your back. You shook as you muffled your cries, trying not to wake the baby you cared so much for. Eventually you wrote yourself out, falling asleep in the nursery.

By the time Toshinori made it home it was close to two in the morning. As usual he tip toed into his sons room, shocked to find you curled up in the rocker asleep. He was quiet, surprisingly more so than in his slender form. As you made his way to wake you he was surprised to see your phone still unlocked, you had fallen to sleep with that video on loop. Underneath your phone was the envelope, he didn't need to look to know what was inside. He hadn’t woken either of you, managing to shut off your phone and pick you up with or so much as a peep. He decided rather quickly that he would wait for you to make the first move. At least in the mean time he could pretend you didn't care about his lifestyle and that you wouldn't try to leave him or his son.

"Toshinori," you mumbled as he was about to settle you into your bed. You were half asleep and groggy from crying.

"Go back to sleep, darling, it's late," he paused to sway with you, just like he did when putting down 'Zuku for a nap. He was shocked that it worked and finally escaped your room. You let him lull you back to sleep, further affirming his belief that you would stay.

---

The next morning you creeped downstairs. Izuku wasn't in his crib, meaning Toshinori was him. You found them both in the kitchen. The sight of the pair would usually warm your body but now shivers radiated down your spine.

"Look who's up, buddy, say good morning," he bounced the child, beaming like the happiest father.

Taking a deep breath you decided to rip off the band aid. "Mr Toshinori, I have to resign."

His pause was so long you wondered if he heard you.

"Did the video upset her that much, Zuzu?"

He looked at you with the same warmth he always did. "There's no need to be formal, you were fine calling me Toshi just the other day. Take a seat, I made pancakes, just like you like'em."

You complied, his unchanged demeanor intimidating you into submission.

"There's no need for you to quit," he started. "Nothing has changed aside from your level of awareness."

"I can't work for you knowing that you hurt people."

At that his smile faltered, "Darling, if you truly felt that way, you wouldn't be here. You would've slipped out early this morning."

You were silent. He was right, in a way. Trapped between what was right and what was best for Izuku. You'd never be able to do anything about your boss's criminal activity, even if you did and All Might was locked away, Izuku would suffer the most.

"Give yourself a few days to adjust, okay? If you still want to quit after that, we can reassess."

There's was a glint in his eyes that hinted he wasn't asking.

---

"I'll be back this evening," Toshinori told you a as he kissed Izuku's forehead. He was uncomfortably close as he returned the baby to your lap. "There's plenty of groceries so you don't need to go out today. I have a coworker out front, so don’t worry if you see someone outside."

"What are they doing?"

He placed a hand on the top of your hair, petting you like some cat.

"He'll just keep an eye on things. I need someone to make sure you stay put."

---

A week flew by with your employer pushing off the discussion of your resignation. He wouldn’t leave you unsupervised so just walking away wasn’t an option, besides could you really leave Izuku?

Then the child came down with some type of bug and was absolutely miserable for several days. You couldn’t get much sleep as a result, even if his father was home for most of the day.

---

Izuku finally fell asleep around three in the morning. You napped beside his crib out of fear he would wake up if you so much as changed positions.

Then you woke in Toshi's arms as he carried you down the hall.

"Where are we going," You whined, anxious to be away from the child.

"I told you to rest, instead I find you in the nursery."

"'Zuku is sick-"

"But he's asleep, there are baby monitors, not that he won't wake the whole city up with his cries. You've been up for nearly two days with him, time for bed."

But he wasn't taking you to your room. Instead he dropped you on to his bed.

"What are you doing?" You snapped.

"I don't need you sneaking back. I can keep an eye on you here. I'll take care of him if he starts crying." He rolled in next to you.

The bed was huge but so was your boss. "Stop wiggling."

"Well I can't get comfortable."

“Fine,” he said and pulled you into him, “now stop it and get some sleep.”

You burned with embarrassment, turning silent after several attempts at protest. Just as you began to drift off, Toshinori's hand moved to beneath your shorts. You shut your eyes, pretending not to notice. He probably didn't even realize what he was doing. Then his fingers grazed the spot where your skin met your panties.

"I know you aren't asleep yet, darling."

You didn't respond, opting to keep up the façade.

"Mmm, are we playing pretend? I don't mind."

You gasped, pushing at his hand, "I'm trying to sleep."

"I can see that," he chuckled. "I'm just helping you wear yourself out. You've been taking such good care of the baby, let me return the favor."

He jerked your hips, pressing you tightly against his bulge.

"You've been such a good mommy."

God the way you could feel your body responding made you hate that he was a villain.

"'M not-" You gasped as he did his fingers into your thighs. "His mom."

"You sure about that? I know how much you care about him. Always rushing to him when he’s cranky, never taking any days off. You make sure he's a happy little baby and you take such good care of his daddy. Isn't that's what mommies do?"

A moan slipped through your lips, "Stop."

"Are you sure? It seems like your having such a good time," he teased, sliding his hand to find your wetness.

Your body jerked involuntarily. He wasted no time tearing off your layers. Your determination quickly fading.

"I'm gonna take such good care of you," he pushed a finger in to your warmth.

You shivered at the sensation. Before you could register his actions there was another digit. He skillfully maneuvered his fingers to prep walls.

"What a tight like cunt," The man cooed. "So perfect and pretty. Just waiting for me to claim."

You gasped as he curled his fingers in you. Tears of pleasure pricking your eyes.

"Atta girl, I think you're ready to take daddy's cock."

You shouldn't be surprised when you saw how absolutely hung your boss is. There was no way the whole thing would fit inside of you.

Without hesitation All Might slowly began to press inside of you. The head of his cock already made it feel like you were tearing.

"Wait wait wait," You cried. "Too big."

He paused, reassuring you, "I know you can do it baby. You're okay."

You shook your head violently.

With a sloppy squelch he withdrew. He disappeared momentarily, give you much need time to breathe. Then he was back and you felt a cool, slick fluid rub against you. He applied a generous amount of lube knowing full well that if he played his cards right you'd happily be his forever.

Regardless there was still a painful pressure as he forced himself deeper.

"You're doing so good, taking me so well."

He was slowly increasing the speed off his hips. All you could manage was incoherent whines as his momentum bounced you back and forth.

"Toshi, Toshi," You panted.

"I don't think so baby girl," he slapped your thigh. "You know what I want to hear."

You couldn't be rational, not when he was pounding into you. All you knew was pleasure in this moment. How could you not give the man what he wanted when he was fucking you dumb.

"Mmm daddy, hurts so good."

"Ah- fuck yeah. I knew you were a little pain slut. You want me to fuck you like a whore and then treat you like my little princess?"

You nodded, gasping for air.

"You've been such a good little mommy, I think you deserve this little treat huh?"

You didn't respond, stubbornly refusing to tell the man what he was desperate to hear.

He shifted to a painfully slow pace as he would pull almost completely out just to slam back into your abused whole.

"And here I thought you wanted to cum, I can always stop here, finish myself later-"

"No! No no no, don't stop."

"Then repeat after me: I'm such a good mommy."

As you stayed silent until he began to move at a snails pace. So close to losing your high.

"O-kay, okay, I-I've been a good mom-mommy," You cried tried to buck against the giant.

And just like that your boss was pushing you back to the edge of an orgasm. You were sobbing from pleasure and frustration.

"I know,” He growled. “Fucking good girl, taking care of our baby while daddy's working. You're gonna look so pretty knocked up. All glowing and swollen. Bet your tits are gonna look so pretty when they get full. Gotta keep you stuffed with my cum so our little boy can have a sibling."

#bnha yandere #yandere #yandere x reader #mha yandere #smut #all might x reader #villain all might #all smite #toshinori yagi x reader

2K notes · View notes

criticallyacclaimedstranger · 3 years ago

Text

Fic: The Nicest Thing

Read on Ao3

My Frankie Morales masterlist

Rating: Explicit

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Ship: Santi x you/librarian!reader, Frankie x same reader, eventually Marcus Pike x same reader

Warnings: This one is a mess of angst, bad self esteem, shame, kind of slut shaming of the self, kind of sloppy seconds, kind of cheating but not really, super bad judgment calls, alcohol is involved, PiV sex, other people hearing you have sex, cunnilingus, basically public sex in a car, hangover. I think I got all of it?

Words: 5,740

Summary: After having turned down Frankie, the nice dad who visited you regularly in your workplace the library with his daughter, you meet Santiago and hook up. However, you had no idea who Santi's best friend is...

A/N: This is a sequel to What We Don't Know Can't Hurt Us. It's been long in the making but here we go. I originally started writing this together with @missredherring but she later bequeathed the story to me. Props to her thought for getting me started on this! This is not a happy story, so be aware of that. Song to go with it: The Nicest Thing by Kate Nash.

All I know is that you're so nice

You're the nicest thing I've seen

I wish that we could give it a go

See if we could be something

Your heart drops when you see Frankie come to a stop by the table you managed to grab for you in the busy bar, and you feel sick when he nods his hello to Santiago.

Frankie is one of Santi’s friends.

His brown gaze rests on your face and you can barely return it. You haven’t seen him at work anymore: after he asked you out and you turned him down, you talked to your supervisor and asked to be transferred from the children’s section. You didn’t want to see Frankie or his kid again and the section for adult fiction seemed like a safer place when wanting to avoid a single father and a child. The library, a space you always enjoyed spending your days in, became something of a video game where you were constantly on your guard, always dreading the sudden appearance of a handsome man armed with a shy, kind smile.

You never saw him at work again but now he’s standing right in front of you in this bar. Frankie, here, with you and Santiago, your new boyfriend – no, not boyfriend: fuck buddy – are to meet his friends for a couple of drinks. Santi makes the introductions and Frankie extends his hand, pretending not to know you. Oh. Okay.

“Good to meet you,” you mumble, shaking his hand quickly before releasing it, like you burned yourself.

Two more show up as well, brothers, and you realize that they are the ones that Frankie mentioned to you a couple of times when talking to you in the library, you keeping an eye on the service desk and he on his girl. Hopefully, the men won’t put two and two together and realize who you are. You’re pretty sure Frankie has mentioned you to them. If not Frankie, then his kid. Judging from how the men are asking Frankie how Sofia is doing, they’re all a tight bunch who know his kid and are actively involved in her life in some way.

You keep a low profile, smiling and answering questions politely without initiating any conversation. Santi’s hand is on your thigh most of the evening, and you do nothing to remove it. But in the presence of Frankie, whom you so very recently turned down because of his history, the hand on you starts to feel heavy and wrong.

You met Santiago not long after that catastrophic goodbye to Frankie. Your girlfriends thought you needed a night out, have some fun, get laid, and you decided to at least try in order to get your mind off the Frankie mess. When Santi’s velvety dark eyes met yours across the dancefloor of a club, you weren’t hard-pressed to accept his invites. He was a great dancer, moving his strong body sensually, always with a hand on your hip or your waist, occasionally on your ass. He was funny. He was a good kisser. He was great in bed, where you ended up with him that very same night.

He was handsome and charming, and you were honestly surprised that he texted you the next day. You met up, mostly for sex, but he would actually cook for you as well. He courted you before blowing your back out, and you appreciated that. He was thoughtful that way.

But you didn’t see yourself ending up with him, not long-term. You sensed that he wasn’t the type. And while you decidedly enjoyed fucking him, you didn’t see yourself ever loving him. You were having fun, that was all. Sure, you probably wanted more in the future from some other man but right now, this was enough. You felt beautiful and appreciated in bed with Santi, but you knew this thing has an end date.

And now, with this new revelation, it’s pretty clear that you’ve reached the end date. It’s tonight, right this minute. This isn’t right. But for some reason, you can’t seem to just get up, excuse yourself, and leave. Maybe it’s your mother’s voice deep inside your brain, telling you to be a good girl no matter how uncomfortable you are, just smile and nod, or maybe you feel sorry for Santi. Or, quite possibly, you just enjoy being in Frankie’s presence again. You avoid his stare but you feel it on you, your skin tingles with it, and you find yourself craving it. When Santi kisses you it feels wrong but exciting. You lock eyes with Frankie right after the kiss, blushing when you see the conflict painted on his face, plain for everyone to see before he seems to catch himself and carefully arrange his features into something more neutral.

The evening drags on and you drink a little too much. When an afterparty at Santi’s place is suggested, you are too dazed to protest. So you go with them, get into Will’s truck with Santi and Benny, Frankie driving himself. At Santi’s place, you end up on his lap while Frankie, Benny, and Will fool around the living-room. Benny is a bit of a brawler and keeps challenging his brother to wrestling matches. Santi accepts a challenge as well, leaving you on the couch for a drunken wrestle on the floor. Casually, Frankie sits down next to you, a little too close. He looks at you with heavy-lidded eyes. What he didn’t drink at the bar in order to be in driving condition, he’s making up for now. You ignore his gaze stubbornly but it’s hard because he’s just so near you. You feel his thigh against you and his shoulder is crowding you towards the arm rest… it’s torture. It’s ridiculous how bothered it makes you. How horny. How guilty and disgusting. Why does he have to smell so good? Old leather and sweat and beer and something sweet like… pomegranate?

You try to focus instead on the juvenile and idiotic match between Santi and Benny but the question that keeps ringing in your head is: What are you even doing here? Why are you still here where these two men that you don’t even want are pretending to fight each other for your hand?

Frankie leans closer. “Sofia asks about you.”

“Don’t,” you mumble, still refusing to look at him. You may have stared brazenly at him earlier when Santi’s lips and hands were on you but now you just feel dirty. You should leave, just take your shit and leave. But you don’t have your car and you’re too drunk to drive, anyway. Maybe an Uber?

A winner seems to be declared in the fight and Santi staggers over to the couch, grabbing your hand and pulling you up. He kisses you, panting from the wrestling, his alcohol breath puffing in your face making you wrinkle your nose.

“I think I’ll get an Uber,” you suggest carefully. “It’s getting late and I’m tired.”

“I’m not letting you into an Uber by yourself,” Santi shakes his head, suddenly sobering up. “No way. Stay the night.”

For some reason you end up agreeing. Maybe it’s pity: you know you’re going to break up with him – or whayever it is one does with a fuck buddy – or maybe you just want to spend one last night in his company. Whatever it is, the two of you end up in his bedroom, kissing desperately, Santi’s confident hands touching you in all the right places with the exact pressure you crave. He stops to make sure you are consenting in your inebriated state and doesn’t go on until you’re begging him to fuck you. When he finally pushes into your quivering cunt, he’s wearing a rubber and you’re already shaking from two orgasms he gave you with his fingers. He fucks you fast and hard, like he usually does; not without precision, but with a heated urgency that he keeps up for much longer than you ever expected. It’s his thing but it doesn’t make any less thrilling now than the first time. His skin turns shiny from sweat but he keeps nailing you to the mattress without showing any signs of slowing down, nearing his climax, or getting tired. You suddenly realize that it’s because you don’t matter to him more than he matters to you. If the two of you were committed and in love, would he be cradling your head against his shoulder, whispering in your ear how good you feel, how well you take him, how lucky he is to be fucking you like this, how he want to keep fucking his good girl like this until the end of time? Instead, he keeps himself high above you, arms straight in a push-up position, as he thrusts into you until he pulls out and makes you turn around so that he can continue from behind. His stamina hasn’t suffered as he goes on pounding you for at least another ten minutes while you struggle more and more to keep your voice down. The two of you may not share an emotional connection but fuck, he’s good, you’ve never been fucked like this in your entire life, it’s so insanely good and it will get even better when you cum on his cock, so you reach between your legs and rub your clit furiously, your moans rising with the tightening of the string deep within you. When it finally snaps you shout out and Santi curses, his thrusts turning more erratic.

“Can I cum on your ass?” he pants and you wail out a Yes! to which he replies with a growl as he pulls out of you, slaps your ass, then grunts loudly as the condom snaps off and he spurts hot cum on your ass and lower back.

He cuddles you for a little while after but the alcohol and orgasm are overpowering him and he’s out like a light, snoring blissfully next to you. You lie awake in the dark, exhausted and satisfied but unable to sleep because of his loud snores. You’ve spent nights with him before but he has always slept quietly and you guess the alcohol has something to do with his vibrating tissues.

The sound of steps in the apartment outside the closed bedroom door makes you freeze. Is someone still here? Didn’t everyone leave? Will would drive Benny but Frankie did drive his own truck here.

Oh no. No. Is Frankie still here? You vaguely remember something about crashing on the couch and driving home tomorrow morning, but you can’t be sure. Oh God. He’s heard everything, he must have.

You feel sick and tears of shame burn in your eyes. Slowly, your head aching with the beginnings of a hangover, you sit up and swing your legs over the edge of the bed. Quietly and without turning on the light you collect your clothes and get dressed, managing to put everything on right without waking Santi. Eventually, you slip out of the bedroom and slink into the kitchen for a glass of water.

The empty bottles and beer cans smell revolting, and there’s a slice of pizza sitting alone in an opened, greasy box. You don’t even remember having pizza earlier but you’re not hungry so it must be so. Turning on the tap and letting the water run until it’s ice cold, you fill a large glass and then drink all of it in one go.

Heavy footsteps enter the kitchen behind you and you turn around, heart in your throat.

Frankie, his t-shirt wrinkled and his wavy, thick hair tousled. He looks like he hasn’t slept in a week.

“Did you know?” he asks you in a low voice. Your frown tells him that you have no idea what he’s talking about, so he specifies:

“Did you know that he was a friend of mine?”

“No.” You shake your head, relieved that you can at least be honest about this, but terrified that the conversation turned to this giant elephant in the room immediately.

“He doesn’t do relationships, you know.”

“That’s not what this is,” you immediately let him know, then correct yourself: “Was.”

“Maybe you could try Will next.” Frankie’s harsh tone is like the slice of a well-sharpened knife. “Goldilocks is maybe more your type.”

You bristle despite feeling like absolutely shit about yourself.

“If this is how you are when you don't get your way, Frankie, then I'm glad we didn't get together.”

It hurts, but he has no right. You bet he’d never talk like this to Santiago. It’s probably bros before hos there, a pat on the back, an “I love you, hermano”, and you’ll be just an ugly memory.

You want to get away but Frankie’s blocking the kitchen door and while you don’t think that he would hurt you, there’s again that good girl voice inside you that tells you to stay and deal with this. You made your own bed with this and now you have to lie in it.

“Why him?” Frankie now demands, but there is no heat in his voice, only sadness. Nevertheless, it gets you worked up. Why does he think he has the right to question you like this? The honest, ugly truth is on the tip of your tongue.

Because he doesn't have a kid. Because I can't see the hurt of his last relationship still in his eyes.

But you can’t say that, it’s unfair. How much you want him and how much you know that the two of you won’t be good is unfair. The whole situation is unfair. It’s not Frankie’s fault he has a kid and a failed marriage behind him. It’s not your fault that you don’t want that, it’s not him, it’s his past, it’s just a dealbreaker for you.

“It just happened,” you offer helplessly. “I didn’t know. It just happened.”

You don’t owe him anything, you know that, but it’s Frankie – the sweet, kind man who would talk to you during your tedious hours at the children’s section, who would ask you about your day so far, about your job, whose child would be so well-behaved that you allowed yourself to fantasize about the father despite knowing you didn’t want a child in your life. It’s still that Frankie, his handsome face, the beautiful, soft brown eyes, that hair that you had hoped to maybe be able to touch one day. His smile that just made you want to open your heart as well as your legs.

You feel the tears rising again, and you sniffle and put down your glass.

“I think I should leave.”

For some reason, you grab a half empty vodka bottle from the kitchen table as you elbow past Frankie. Without your purse and your coat, you just shove your feet into your shoes, fumble with the lock, and stumble out. You take a deep swig of the vodka with the insane intent of drinking until you don’t have to feel any longer, but the liquor is room temperature and tastes foul in your already stale, dry mouth. As soon as you’re out of the apartment complex, you take another swig and fish your phone out of your pocket.

“Hey!”

You don’t turn around when you hear Frankie’s voice. Instead, you’re trying to see enough of your phone screen to open the Uber app.

“What are you doing?” Frankie has now caught up with you and is taking the bottle from your hand. You whine in protest but he just throws it to the side. The glass shatters in the dark and you realize that it’s chilly and you don’t have your coat or purse, so you have no keys.

“I’m trying to get home,” you mutter. “I need to get home.”

“You can’t go without a coat. And I’m not letting you go anywhere by yourself in your state.”

“Oh, so now you suddenly care about me, huh?” You want it to sound angry but you’re sobbing. The mere idea that Frankie cares about you is… heartbreaking.

“I do care about you.”

You look up at him, your hand holding the phone slowly falling to hang by your side, the phone slipping out of your grip and clattering to the asphalt. You’re shivering now, both from the cold and the shock, the adrenaline, the hangover, and as you try to speak, you find your teeth are chattering too hard. Frankie wraps his arms around you, quickly, and pulls you into his broad, warm chest. He’s in his t-shirt but still so warm. How can he be so warm?

“I care about you,” he repeats in a low whisper, and your arms slowly rise to his waist, where they tentatively come to hold him. Frankie hugs you closer still and you take it as an invitation for you to hug him tighter. So you do, and you start to feel his warmth seep into your limbs, your chest, your stomach, concentrating in a pool low in your groin.

“Frankie,” you whisper, turning your face up towards his. Your eyes fall close when you feel his lips on your cheekbones, kissing away your tears.

“I got you,” he promises, a soft puff of warm air against your face. “Don’t cry, querida. It’s alright.”

For a moment, you believe him. And you act on it, letting your lips find his softly, almost shyly. You have wondered for so long what it would be like to kiss him, and now it’s okay to do so. It’s okay, it’s alright, you tell yourself, and so you brush your lips over his, gently, with feeling. His chin and cheeks are filled with bristles that scrape your skin a little but it’s what you anticipated. Your raise one hand from his waist to his cheek and trace the patchy beard, touch the bald spots that you have been wondering about. You don’t ask him about them, though: there are so many other things that you want your mouth to do. You want to kiss him, kiss him for the rest of the night, and so you carefully slip your tongue out to lick at his lips, and Frankie parts them and lets you in, sucks you in with his own tongue, and before you know it you’re making out like teenagers and feeling just as young and stupid and horny.

His truck keys are in his pocket, you can feel the hard outline of them through the denim, and that’s not the only stiff outline poking at you. You rub yourself against him and he breaks the kiss for a moan.

“I want you,” you gasp, cupping his cheeks. “Frankie, I’ve wanted you since – “

“I know.” His hands come to your cheeks and you stand in the cold dark on an apartment building parking lot, staring into each other’s eyes and seeing anything only because you happen to be standing right next to the ring of light of a street lamp.

“Let’s go inside,” he tells you, his baritone dripping with want that makes your gut drop from desire. You’re brought back to where exactly you are: outside of Santiago’s apartment. Santiago, you’re fuck buddy. Frankie’s friend. You can’t.

“No,” you shake your head. “Your truck.”

You expect him to protest but he doesn’t, only takes your hands off his cheeks and pulls you away with him. He unlocks the car and pushes you up against the door, trapping you for a deep, hungry kiss that tastes of beer and a budding morning breath.

“You sure?” he asks you in a low voice. You take his hand and bring it between your legs.

“Yes.”

He helps you into the backseat, gets in after you, and shuts the door. It’s dark and cold but he drapes himself over you and breathes warmth into you with his kisses and wandering hands. He explores your body, so unlike Santi who seemed to just go for specific spots on you that he figured to be erogenous. Frankie caresses every inch of you, pausing when your breath hitches or a moan escapes you. He gets in under your clothes, under your skin even, and your head spins when he whispers into your ear how beautiful he finds you.

“Sweetheart, can I go down on you? Will you be able to cum on my mouth?”

You swallow hard and find your tongue for a whimpered yes.

“Say it,” he begs of you, not commanding you to use words but pleading with you to communicate what it is you need.

“Go down on me, Frankie, please.”

He kisses you deeply, with a slow passion that promises more for nights to come, before working his way down your body. After some rearranging and some limbs knocking into each other, followed by ouch! and giggled apologies as well as soothing kisses, you’re reclining naked against the corner of the backseat and side door. Frankie is half on the floor, half on the seat, licking your tits with dedication, his big fingers softly teasing your wet folds, conjuring all kinds of sounds from you. When he finally slides lower you’re almost embarrassed at how wet you already are, but Frankie soon has you dripping as he starts to lick his tongue into you, gathering your slick and spreading it all over you. When he latches onto your clit and sucks, you scream straight out from the shocking intensity. Your bury one hand in his hair and hold onto the door handle with the other, sobbing when he goes on sucking your clit before finally relinquishing it and switching to licks.

Santi would eat your pussy with a clear purpose in mind: orgasm. Frankie eats it with another agenda: pleasure, a long rollercoaster of ups and downs before he finally unhooks the train from its tracks and has you falling through the air and plunging into his arms. He doesn’t finish until the car windows are fogged up and you’re begging him with kicking legs.

“You taste so good,” he tells you with a satisfied sigh as he comes up to kiss you, his lips obscenely slick and the taste of you overpowering the staleness of teeth unbrushed.

“Could eat you all night,” he mumbles, “but I’d like to be inside you as well.”

“I’d like that too,” you smile, dazed but aching for him. You push him off of you and sit up, groaning a little at a strained muscle. When you start to unbuckle his belt, Frankie puts his hands on yours to stop you.

“I… don’t have any condoms. I’m sorry.”

“I’m on the pill,” you assure him. “And I’ve always used protection with… other men.”

“I’ve used condoms too, not that I’ve had the opportunity in a long while.” He sounds hesitant.

“If you don’t want to, Frankie…“

“I want to,” he cuts you off, “but I don’t want you to feel obligated. You can just jerk me off. Or I can do it myself.”

You know you’re clean and you sincerely doubt that Frankie has had any action in a while. And you need him inside you, there’s no way it’s not happening tonight.

“No,” you tell him and continue to open his fly. “We’re doing this. I want to, Frankie.”

His pants come off and his cock springs free, thick and veiny and a lot bigger than you had expected. Your cheeks flush red at the thought of having it bursting deep inside, and you’re happy it’s dark so that Frankie can’t see you. It’s not like it’s the first time you’ve seen a dick, after all.

You straddle him in the middle of the back seat, sighing out a throaty moan when Frankie comes forward to lick one of your nipples before closing his lips around it and suckling it softly, tweaking the other nipple between forefinger and thumb. You find him between the two of you, get up on your knees, and nock him at your entrance. You hold your breath when you slide down his thick shaft, all the way down to the thick base. Frankie’s gaze is interlocked with yours, his lips are parted and he’s breathing audibly. When he’s all the way in, he leans his head back, closes his eyes, and groans low, a deep vibration that travels through him and you, making you clench.

“Mierda,” he curses as his eyes open anew and his hands come to hold your hips. “You… damn. You feel so good. I’ve thought about this for so long, querida…”

“When we talked at work?” you murmur, dazed by the feeling of being filled up so completely, by his body, his hands, the heat he exudes. You raise one hand to the back of his neck and bring him to you for a kiss, losing your fingers to the softness of his thick curls.

“M-hmm…” Frankie moans into your mouth when you start to swirl your hips slowly. “Just like that…”

You wrap your arms around his neck and lean into him, moving on his cock in search of the right spot to take you to heaven, as if heaven wasn’t already here, with every inch of Frankie inside of you, finally, his hands on you, his hot breath on your cheek when you trail your lips to his neck and leave your mark there, mine, he’s mine, I wanted him since I first saw him…

He’s vocal; constantly telling you how good you feel, how wet you are, what you do to him. Your ears are filled with his intoxicated words as you hit that right spot and start to work it, your tits bouncing when you start to chase your high to the rhythm of your combined pants. Frankie’s hands are everywhere, on hips and ass and tits and face and waist and he kisses you sloppily, hungrily, asking you in a strangled voice to ride him, ride it home, take what you need from him before he cums, he’s close, you’re close, your body is dripping with sweat as you ride his cock harder, faster, almost there, there, there, oh God, fuck, Frankie…!

He holds you against his chest as you come down and the wild thumping of his heart is thunderous, just like your own. When your breathing is back to normal and the sweat has dried, you start to shiver and your head starts to pound.

“Let’s go back inside,” Frankie tells you, reaching for your clothes. His cum runs down the inside of your thigh when you climb off him and you suddenly remember that it’s not the only semen that has stained your skin tonight.

You suddenly feel sick. What the hell are you doing? You scramble to open the car door and barely make it out before you throw up. The cold night air has you shaking harder than ever before in your life and you feel feverish. Is this what it’s like to die from all those diseases they had in the nineteenth century? Hot and cold and sick and shaking so bad every inch of you is vibrating?

“Fuck, are you okay?”

Frankie’s plaid lands on your shoulders and he’s bringing you against him, his strong arms wrapping around you for warmth. You try to speak but your teeth are chattering too hard, so he helps you with your clothes, even remembers your phone that you dropped on the ground, and takes you back into Santi’s apartment. You don’t ever want to see Santi again but neither you nor Frankie are in any condition to drive, and you owe both of them an apology, so you let Frankie tuck you in on the couch. He covers you with blankets and sits down next to you, his sleep deprived gaze still attentive as he looks you over.

“I’m sorry,” you finally manage to whisper. He caresses your cheek and smiles softly.

“Don’t be. It’s okay. We’ll talk in the morning, okay? You need sleep, we both do.”

“I’m not sure – “

“Not now, querida. It’s been a long night.”

Gratefully, you accept the extra time you get before you have to do anything unpleasant, and you let him kiss your forehead before settling next to you. Despite feeling wretched, you fall asleep within minutes.

You wake up with a double hangover: physical and emotional. Frankie is next to you on the couch, half sitting up, half lying down, head lolling to the side. It doesn’t look comfortable but nothing has been comfortable for the past twelve or so hours.

So stupid, so fucking stupid!

You just want to leave. It shouldn’t have happened, you shouldn’t have given in to those urges that wouldn’t lead to anywhere good. You had perfectly valid reasons for not getting involved with Frankie but you just couldn’t help yourself. The alcohol had part in it, of course, but you hadn’t been uninhibited. You could’ve stopped yourself, but you wanted him too much. You could’ve gone without knowing what it was like to be with Frankie but you fucked it up and now you’re hurting.

Heaven was Frankie inside of you: his cock, his hands, his voice in your ear telling her how good you felt and how much, how long he’s wanted you.

Once you can move without feeling dizzy, you get up and quietly look around for your purse. When you find it, you check to see that you have your phone, wallet, and keys. Your panties are missing but that doesn’t matter, and you have nothing else at Santi’s place. It’s time to sneak out, one final act of cowardice and immaturity. Least you could do is wait for Santi and Frankie to wake up, then have an honest conversation with them, face to face. But no, you can’t do that. Your head is swimming, your stomach is upside down, your pussy is still beating with the echo of Frankie’s cock, and you need to get away from here. You’re done with this, done with Santiago Garcia and Francisco Morales.

On the way out, you hear Frankie move on the couch. His voice, cracking with sleep, says your voice. At the same time, Santi’s bedroom door opens and he steps out, wearing only boxer shorts. With eyes narrow and sleepy, he looks at you, putting together the pieces of what he sees. Involuntarily, your gaze moves from him to Frankie on the couch, both of them rumpled from sleep and sex. Santi sees it, and you know that he immediately knows. Throat snared up and aching almost as much as your head, you open the front door and slink out, misery in your heart, shame suffocating your body.

Epilogue

Marcus is kind, just like Frankie, but seems to possess a greater sense of self-reflection. He tunes into your needs in a completely different way than Frankie: less “I want you” and more “I want you to feel good about yourself”.

You were in a bad shape when you met Marcus Pike. What happened that night with Frankie left you completely broken. The shame turned into self-loathing that swallowed you whole. You even had to take a week off work, but it didn’t do you any good: you sunk even deeper into despair. Your nights were sleepless and when you did sleep, you had wet, scary dreams where you were roughly fucked by Frankie and Santi at the same time. They filled up your holes, used you, and you exploded in one painful orgasm after the other, but whenever you looked at them, tried to kiss them, you discovered that their faces were empty, like those of mannequins. You woke up sweaty and horny but scared shitless. Were you going crazy?

Your shame did not diminish but you learned to live with it.

And then, one day, you ran into Marcus Pike, quite literally. It was a typical romcom meet-cute, the two of you crashing into each other in the door to a coffee shop. You spilled your drink all over his shirt. You were appalled, he was just smiling.

“I didn’t like this shirt anyway, I don’t know why I keep wearing it,” he told you with a smile so warm you had to smile back. You insisted on buying him not only a coffee but also a new shirt, and somehow, he managed to convince you that it was in fact he who should’ve watched out when coming into the coffee shop, so the drink was on him.

You exchanged numbers, one date became several, and you found yourself falling for him. You played it safe, though: you waited with sex, you didn’t touch a drop of alcohol when spending time with him, and as soon as you realized that you had feelings for him you decided to come clean about the Frankie/Santi mess. Marcus deserved to know this about you and after a homecooked dinner at his place, comfortably reclined in his couch corner, you told him.

Marcus was not put off by your past. Neither did he flinch when you told him about your aversion towards kids.

“I always figured I wanted kids,” he told you, “but happiness doesn’t have to include those.”

He waits patiently for you to be ready to have sex, seemingly happy with just cuddling in front of the TV. You appreciated his knowledge of old Hollywood movies and the way he talked about them without lecturing you. He just seemed really excited about finding someone to talk to about the things that interested him, but was equally focused on you when you talked about the books you had read.

When you finally felt ready to go to bed with him, he almost exhausted you with his constant questions. Where Santi would not speak, and Frankie would tell you how good you felt, Marcus was always checking in with you.

“I wouldn’t be moaning like this if I didn’t feel good,” you whimpered, and he scoffed out an embarrassed giggle.

“I’m sorry. I just want to be sure.”

“Don’t stop, you’re doing great.”

Marcus is kind. Marcus helps you heal, provides you with the light you need to find your way back to loving yourself.

Look, all I know is that you're the nicest thing I've ever seen

And I wish that we could see if we could be something

#triple frontier fanfic #frankie morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #francisco frankie morales #francisco catfish morales #my fic

33 notes · View notes

jkstompers · 4 years ago

Text

passing notes | jjk

pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader

summary: a year of crushing and jungkook’s finally asked you out on a proper date.

genre: classmates to lovers??!, established friendship, they go on a date <3, jk is so stressed out, !fancy restaurant warning!, jk is A GENTLEMAN!! but wbk, oc is a nerd but is BOLD AF!!

warnings: mature!! (18+!!), SMUT,...they make out, LOTS of built up tension is let out tonite!, fingering, praise kink, handjob, backseat action, semi-public sex?? very strong language, jk overuses the nickname ‘baby’

word count: 9k

author’s note: pt. 3 of seatmate!jk. WE’VE GOT SOME FILTH TODAY PPL!!!!!!! this is my first time releasing a piece of writing that has smut in it so pls!! let me know what u think!!! i’m open to criticism but i cry easily so… pls pls be nice (Ｔ▽Ｔ) LMAO!! i also completely made up the program for ocean scientists that oc talks about LMAO i just needed her to ramble for a bit hahahah

additional note: also pls imagine jungkook looking like this in class and then wearing this for their date. also if ur curious, this is what i imagined oc’s dress to look like :)

okay enjoy!! thank u ( ˘ ³˘)

it was the end of the semester and of course, the only time jungkook would be running late to class was when he was finally going to ask you out on a date. so far, everything seems to be going against the idea. his alarm didn’t go off on time, the shower took way too long to warm up, and his car was low on gas. now he’s speed walking, almost running, to lecture to make sure that his seat next to you isn’t taken.

he wants to make sure this goes perfectly. he spent the past two weeks stressing over the plans. asking for recommendations for nice restaurants in the city in almost every group chat he was in. his friend (the one with parents as ceo’s, eunwoo), helped him and got him a reservation at this one five star restaurant that jungkook’s never been to. eunwoo told him that it was the prettiest place he’s ever been to, said it would be perfect for a first date.

jungkook specifically remembers you telling him that you’ve never gone on an actual dinner date. ice cream dates, movie theater dates, and amusement park dates were what you were used to. there was nothing wrong with that, it’s just that you’ve never experienced a candlelit dinner at a restaurant, that’s it. jungkook just wanted to be the first one to experience it with you.

so when his morning starts off this shitty, he wonders if his plans are falling apart. he tries to keep a good, positive mindset, but he’s already so nervous and the universe seems to be telling him: don’t do it, she’ll reject you, you’re gonna look stupid in front of her.

meanwhile, you’re early this lecture. it was the last class of the semester and you were hoping that you could get a nice conversation with jungkook in before it started. the two of you have gotten a lot closer since you last hung out. the chain of events starting with you apologizing for being so embarrassing,

[12:44 pm] you: jungkook!!! oh my god i am so sorry for last night 😭

[12:45 pm] you: i don’t take alcohol very well 😖

[12:50 pm] jungkook: 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

[12:50 pm] jungkook: no need to apologize! are u feeling sick? hungover?

[12:52 pm] you: omg no not really

[12:52 pm] you: ur a great drinking buddy, i owe u one 🥺

[12:53 pm] jungkook: it’s alright cutie

[12:54 pm] jungkook: just happy ur feeling okay :)

[12:56 pm] you: let me make it up to u 😭 i’ll buy us lunch one of these days?

[12:57 pm] jungkook: ah no can do cutie

[12:57 pm] jungkook: have to buy u dinner first

the thought of the conversation makes you smile. that one conversation starting the domino effect of the two of you talking almost everyday for the past two weeks. you couldn’t help but expect jungkook to at least be here, but if he didn’t wanna come, then he didn’t have to.

you sat in your seat, patiently waiting for the one next to you to be filled by him. the hall was starting to fill now and class was about to start. you look around one last time to see that jungkook is still nowhere to be seen, and that a familiar brown-haired guy was beginning to walk up to you.

“hello, ___! is this seat taken?” taehyung smiles brightly, you look down at the seat next to you. your bag saving the spot for jungkook. maybe he skipped this lecture, since it was practically for nothing anyway, you’ve already taken the final and there was no other material to learn, it was more so to wrap things up and see if anyone still needed to understand something.

your brain comes to a conclusion. you remove your bag and say, “no, go ahead,” to taehyung with a small smile on your face, one that hides the disappointment riddling your mind.

it’s about five minutes after the professor starts talking when jungkook finally walks in. he looks up to try and find you as he walks up the steps of the auditorium. his eyes land on you and taehyung, chatting amongst yourselves. he can’t help but feel a slight twinge of jealousy, that’s his seat. even though there were no assigned seats, the place next to you was always his, that’s just how it was, and seeing someone else sitting there, especially taehyung, makes jungkook’s green monster pop out.

you feel a presence step behind you while you were talking to taehyung, and before you know it, jungkook is sitting in the seat next to taehyung. “oh! good morning, jungkook!” you’re smiling to him. he doesn’t grant you one of his regular vocal responses, rather he gives you a tight-lipped grin before he leans back into his chair and focuses on whatever the professor was saying.

maybe he was jealous. witnessing you and taehyung having a wonderful conversation, one that makes you smile and laugh like he does. you didn’t even notice him when he came up the stairs, only greeting him when he sat down. no, he was definitely jealous.

you’re stealing glances his way, pretending to be interested in whatever taehyung is talking about. he’s wearing the most boyfriend-est outfit in the world. a white long sleeve with grey sweatpants, his long hair tied up in a ponytail. you’re unconsciously biting your lip as you stare at him, he’s just so cool. he’s not even doing much other than looking straight forward. but this angle lets you see his sharp jawline and his side profile perfectly.

you felt bad, one hundred percent. you should have told taehyung that the seat was taken, because now he was talking your ear off and you didn’t mind it, but you wanted someone else to be talking your ear off and it was the guy sitting next to him.

when taehyung changes his focus to your professor talking about a summer he had in paris. you steal another glance at jungkook. you catch him staring at you, your eyes meet. he doesn’t keep the connection, cutting it off by moving his head and looking straight ahead. his jaw clenches, arms coming over and across his chest. he seems angry, you pick up on the energy now. an idea pops in your head to try and make him feel better. reaching into your bag to find one of your index cards, writing a message on it.

feeling okay?

you scoot your chair back a bit, pretending to stretch as you tap jungkook’s shoulder. he turns his head to you, eyebrows raised. you hand him the paper. he stares at first, eyes flickering between you and the paper. reluctantly, he takes it, unfolding his crossed arms to receive the note. you scoot back into your seat and lean into the table, lowering your chin onto the desk.

jungkook tries to hide his smile as he reads your little note. how could he ever stay mad at you? it wasn’t your fault he was late. so he replies, his black ink has a stark contrast against your green highlighter. he can already feel his bad mood brightening.

yeah, didn’t save me a seat? :(

this time he folds the note, handing it to taehyung and telling him to pass it to you. “really? you’re passing notes? we’re in college, jeon.” taehyung snickers as he slides the paper towards you.

you let a small laugh, reading the note. taehyung’s scolding continues as you write your response on the index card. you changed your green highlighter out with a blue pen.

i came super early :( waited 20 mins for u </3 but i didn’t think u were coming so i let taehyung sit here

you send it back and watch jungkook’s somewhat straight face contort into a smile. there it is, the smile that you know and love.

jungkook on the other hand could cry. you came early. you waited for him. god, had he royally fucked this up. he makes his mind up now.

i’m sorry :( let me make it up to u? can i take you out on a date tonight?

check: ◯ yes ◯ no

jungkook keeps the paper for a good minute, reading the note over and over again, thinking about how childish this way of asking is. but at the same time, jungkook knows that if he talks to you about it after class, he’ll gloss over the words and never ask you. letting the reservation and plans he made weeks ago render themselves useless. it was now or never.

so he fully sends it, tapping your shoulder and giving it to you directly. you open the note and scan the words, sending him the sweetest look he’s ever received in his life. he thinks that would be a yes. he hopes. you write something onto the card and pass it back to him, your hand grazing his for a second.

⚫ yes :) ♡ ◯ no

the rest of the class passes pretty quickly. not that you were paying any attention. jungkook had emailed you a link to a game that the two of you could play, a weird version of snakes. jungkook kept cheating, you swore it, but in all honesty, you knew you couldn’t compete when it came to jungkook and his computer games. a clap from the professor breaks your attention from your screen, “alright, that was the last class of anatomy 101!” he then goes on a two minute long speech thanking the entire class for their great work this past year. he ends his ment with, “good luck and make good decisions! have a fun summer!”

you take your time packing your things, a little too long for someone that just has a laptop to put into their bag. taehyung says goodbye to the both of you and leaves first, the seat in between you both empty. now it was just the two of you. a small blush creeps onto your cheeks. you were well past your high school crush phase, but jungkook makes you feel so shy again.

you try to hide it by speaking first, “so, a date?”

he sends you that award winning smile that makes you swoon. “yeah, did you change your mind?”

you shake your head. “is it casual? fancy? want me to wear a dress again?” you tease, finally pushing your computer into your bag and standing.

jungkook gulps. you looked so pretty that night in a dress. “fancy,” he answers, “you can wear a dress if you want, pantsuits are cool too— whatever you want.” he finishes packing as well, standing next to you as you both begin to walk down the stairs.

“okay then,” you smile. “what time should i be ready?”

“i’ll come and pick you up at seven, is that okay?” he replies, hand in his pockets. you both make your way out of the room and start to move towards the parking lot.

“sounds good,” you nod, approaching your car. jungkook walks you to your door, his eyes focused on your sweet smile and your eyes. if jungkook didn’t know any better, he would have thought you were leaning closer towards him. a small laugh leaves your throat. “see you later, kookie.”

he sends you a smile, the nickname tugging at his heartstrings. the realization hits him after you’ve already driven away and he’s sitting in the driver seat of his car. an embarrassing blush covers his face, he takes a deep breath and laughs to himself. finally. a year of crushing and he’s finally asked you on a proper date.

jungkook is quite frankly, freaking the fuck out. he isn’t sure what to wear and his hair isn’t working with him. the long strands seemingly out to make his life a living hell when he tries to style it. one strand always looks out of place, or the way that it parts doesn’t sit right. he’s pacing his bathroom, debating if he should just shower again and take all the stupid fucking product out of his hair.

he gives in after ten minutes of deliberation. a quick shower removing all the wax and gel from his hair. the ends of his hair dripping when he goes to check his phone, the time reading: 6:45. he was gonna be late to pick you up. now he’s full on panicking. he has no other choice then to skip the hair product all together and just let his hair dry and part on it’s own. he slides on his all black fancy outfit he had planned out just in case the first one didn’t work out. he steps out of his apartment after grabbing his car keys, wallet, and the flowers he bought earlier in the day for you.

a friend of his works in a flower shop. jungkook remembers you saying that you like all flowers and that you couldn’t choose if you had to. so his friend asked what you were like, trying to figure out a way to style the bouquet without knowing your favorites. jungkook said the general things; you’re sweet like an apple, probably sweeter, like candy. you’re so pretty, it’s blessing that he’s able to lay his eyes upon you. you’re smart, too smart for him to flirt stupidly like he always does, ‘cause you outsmart him and flirt with him back in a wittier way. you’re— that was enough information, his friend told him he was babbling again. jungkook only had to wait ten minutes for his friend to finish fixing up a beautiful bouquet for you.

the bouquet is placed on the passenger seat as he starts his car, texting you when he realizes it’s almost five minutes until 7.

[6:54 pm] jungkook: fuck

[6:54 pm] jungkook: i’m gonna be a little late

[6:55 pm] jungkook: i swear i’m not standing u up

[6:55 pm] jungkook: ok i’m putting my phone down to drive to u now, sorry cutie!!

[6:57 pm] you: ah okay!

[6:57 pm] you: i was getting a little worried haha

[6:58 pm] you: see u in a bit <3

jungkook drives safely, but efficiently to your apartment. the drive only taking about five minutes because the stop lights were gracing him with green lights his entire way to you. he parks right in front, grabbing the flowers and hopping out of the car. when he knocks on your door, he starts to feel his nerves work against him. the adrenaline from rushing here gave him enough energy to hype himself up, but now as he’s standing here at your door, waiting for you to answer, his throat starts to dry and his hands start to sweat.

the metal door slides open, revealing you. in your silk dress, draping over your body in the most flattering way. the neckline deliciously hangs down to reveal your cleavage ever so slightly and the slit on the dress, displaying your thigh teasingly. jungkook is speechless at his first glance at you. his eyebrows raise and his mouth drops open, catching himself drooling once you step out from your apartment.

“h— hi, you look— wow,” he stumbles over his words, taking a step back to admire you once again. “you’re fucking stunning.”

you brush your hair back behind your ear, your hand covering the blush covering your cheeks. “thank you, you look very handsome, jungkook.” you reach out and play with his black tie. he looks down when you do, remembering that he was holding a bouquet of flowers for you.

he holds them out, “these are for you.” like a kid giving his crush a dandelion he picked from the grass.

“these are gorgeous, jungkook! thank you.” you look up to him with your signature sweet eyes, the ones that never fail to make him melt. “just give me one sec, i’ll put these down and then we can go?” you ask, holding onto the bouquet and waiting for him to respond. a quick nod is all you need to open your door and place them in the fridge. you come out a few seconds later, locking your door and standing by jungkook again.

“that was fast,” he comments. he holds his arm out for you to hold, which you gratefully take.

“i just put them in the fridge, my grandma showed me the trick, it helps them live a little longer,” you explain. the two of you walking out to his parked car. he never lets your hand touch the handle, always opening the door for you.

“when they die, i’ll just buy you new ones.” closing the door for you and making his way to the drivers seat.

you scrunch your nose. when he comes back and joins you in the car, you voice your worry. “it’s kind of a waste, don’t you think?”

he shakes his head, “if it’s for you, nothing’s a waste.”

jungkook was a professional with his words. always rendering you speechless.

with that he starts the car and begins driving into the busier part of seoul. he makes his way into the restaurants parking garage, the building looks to be about five stories. the architecture itself looks expensive, you wonder where jungkook is taking you tonight. he parks the car, turning off the engine, and moving to open the door for you. he takes your hand and you hold onto your dress, fixing it once you get out of the car. god, you’re so pretty. he was so nervous.

“ready, my lady?” he smiles, his arm out for you to hold.

it makes you laugh, a snort almost. “i’ve never seen you so proper, mr. jeon.”

“only for you,” he winks. your heels click against the concrete floor as he leads the two of you into the building. the high ceilings and multiple chandeliers are what greet you first, the brightness of the place giving the sun something to rival. jungkook brings you over to the waiting area, telling you to wait for a minute as he checks you guys in.

this was crazy to say the least. the last time you went on a date, it was to the movie theaters. you’ve never been in a place like this; a doorman greeting every guest as they walk in, checking in to eat, multi-story, etc. the more you look around, the cooler it is. “let’s go?” jungkook’s voice makes you turn your head. you stand, taking his hand.

the two of you follow a man wearing a black and white suit, with a long tail jacket. he brings you to the elevators, holding the doors open for you both. you step in and he presses the fifth button, which was the top floor. you squeeze jungkook’s hand. he repeats the action, looking to you and silently asking if you were okay with the look in his eyes and the raise of his eyebrows. you nod, a smile on your face.

with that the elevator doors open, the metal doors sliding apart to reveal a private terrace. only a couple tables on the entire floor. a few people sitting down and enjoying their dinners. beautiful greenery surrounding the perimeter, the night sky only making it prettier. your mouth is left agape, you’re stuck in the elevator, speechless. jungkook gently tugs you forward, following the suit man to the table.

jungkook pulls your chair out for you. you could cry at the chivalry. you sit and he pushes the chair in, jungkook follows soon, sitting in the chair across from you. the man hands the two of you the menu and moves away from the table, standing back near to the elevator, waiting until you are both ready to order.

“this is fucking crazy,” you whisper-shout. the terrace was lit by these bright fairy lights that were hidden in the plants and were above the tables as well. it looked like little fairies and fire flies were in the air, roaming around.

“i know right!” jungkook looked as surprised as you were. “i asked my friends for some help and holy shit!”

“they know you’re on a date with me right now?” you ask, raising your eyebrows.

to this he furrows his eyebrows, “of course they do, i talk about you all the time—”but he stops himself from exposing himself any further. you can’t help but giggle. “i mean, i asked them to help me make this special, and here we are.”

you swoon. he’s so sweet for planning all of this out and wanting to make you feel special. the two of you look through the menu, jungkook warns you not to look at the prices, telling you to get whatever you want because the price doesn’t matter. but of course, your eyes stray to the numbers, the meals costing a pretty penny for a simple spaghetti plate, the cheapest thing on there. you were craving pasta anyway, you didn’t mind. the two of you order and wait for the food to arrive.

the city of seoul was just below you, not too high but high enough to turn people into smaller figures of themselves. the night lights look gorgeous from up here. the warm summer night only complimenting the gorgeous atmosphere.

“the view is so pretty,” you gaze out into the city. the pretty colors from all the lights of the different stores and restaurants complementing each other so beautifully.

jungkook was in awe, he knows that the city below you is gorgeous, but he can’t seem to get his eyes off of you. your chin resting in the palm of your hand as your eyes search through the streets. “yeah…” he agrees, “very beautiful.” he smiles, only looking at you.

the food comes and you both dig in. the two of you enjoy some conversation with each other as you eat. the topic of growing up comes up, both of you explaining the occupations you wanted, and you said something that sparked curiosity in jungkook. “your childhood dream was to live in california?” he smiles, chewing on his steak. most of the time kids dream about going to the moon or finding atlantis, but you wanted to go to america?

you nod, “sounds funny right? when i was a teen, i watched a lot of 90210.”

“is that all though? you only wanted to go because of a tv show?” he asks. there’s something you’re hiding, and jungkook can see it in the way that you hide your smile.

at first, you hesitate, but you open your mouth to speak, “well— there is— no, it’s embarrassing.” you shake your head, changing your mind and reverting your eyes down. staring at the plate of pasta in front of you. guys you talked to didn’t wanna hear about it, they thought what you were into was boring, embarrassing almost. a part of you feared that jungkook would feel the same.

you feel his hand on your chin, tilting your head up. “i wanna hear about it.” his face telling you the truth, the sincerity in his eyes as he patiently waits for you to explain.

“there’s this science program in california, they explore new ideas for researching the ocean, like trying to see what lurks in the deep blue, helping fix the rising oceans, everything-- oh my god, and they like go on field trips to different countries to see the coastlines and historical sites—” you cut yourself off when you realize that you’re talking at the speed of light. “i’m rambling.” you were terrified to see his reaction.

but when your eyes finally meet jungkook’s, they’re full of light. and his smile is so big. “dude, that’s so dope!” he grins, “i didn’t know you were so into the ocean!”

it was the bare minimum, being nice, but that was hard to find when it came to the majority of the male species. obviously, jungkook is above average, he only proves that the more time you spend with him.

“oh, i love it! my parents would bring me to the beach and i would cry every time we would have to leave, aquariums too, and the fish section in the pet stores.” you gush, leaning into the table to tell jungkook more. he leans into his hand, resting his cheek against his fist as he listens to you spill your knowledge and love.

he notes that the next date should be at the beach or an aquarium. it was a great time for him to learn this, especially since it was summer. the weather in favor of the cold ocean waves. jungkook swears he can listen to you talk until the end of time. your sweet voice can be the narration to his life, he’d never get sick of it.

the food on both of your plates had been cleared, the conversation sizzling into a comfortable silence before the man came back to give you the bill. jungkook doesn’t let you see it, instead just sticking his card in the black folder thing, and giving it back to the fancy suit man. it wasn’t long before he came back, handing jungkook back his card and giving the both of you a lollipop with gold flakes encased inside.

you gasp at the piece of candy, now that was ridiculous. you weren’t one to reject a lollipop though, gratefully taking the candy and popping it into your mouth. jungkook does the same. it tastes of blueberry. at this point he stands up, moving in front of you and holding his hand out to you. “let’s look around? i heard they have a cool museum on the second floor.”

you take his hand, “i love museums!” the two of you make your way to the elevator, the man (he never told you his name) kept the door open for you both. he presses the second floor button when jungkook asks him for the museum. the elevator landing on the second floor, the doors slide open to show a completely empty art hall. this place shocking you every chance it gets. you didn’t think it could get better, but it did.

when the two of you exit the elevator, the man leaves you to it, taking the elevator down and leaving you alone. your eyes scan the place, huge paintings on the walls, small paintings in collages, some sculptures on the floor, it felt like a pop-up museum. you both make your way down the enormous hallway, both sides of the room’s wall displaying works of art. you stop at one specific painting, the familiar work has you spewing random facts. “these are the lovers! i had to analyze this once,” you speak. the art displaying a couple kissing, both of their heads covered by a white sheet. “the real one is in australia, i think.” you laugh, tapping the lollipop against your lips.

jungkook listens intently, but he doesn’t pay attention to the painting on the wall. everytime he does, his eyes always revert to you. the art doesn’t stand a chance against you in his book. you, yourself, were a piece of art, one that was rare in this world, one of a kind.

he can’t seem to resist. taking your hand and raising it over your head, the way that they do in ballroom dancing. if a twirl was what he wanted, then so he got it. “beautiful,” he compliments, pulling you in close for a hug. the two of you swaying in the middle of the hall of this stupidly expensive restaurant.

you look up to him, making full eye contact as the two of you lean on one foot to the other. probably looking like a lovesick couple, getting lost in the moment. which, you were. your eyes flicker from his eyes down to his lips, he seems to do the same thing. his hand moves to caress your face, the swaying ceased. now the two of you are centimeters apart, noses brushing against each other. if jungkook doesn’t kiss you now, he thinks he’ll combust. so when he feels you pushing forward, he does the same, meeting you in the middle. your lips connect. the kiss almost identical to the painting in front of you.

jungkook swears he felt himself levitating. your lips are sweet, the blueberry flavor of the lollipop lingering on them. he’s had his fair share of kisses in his life. makeouts, pecks, cheek kisses, all types of kisses. but something about this one tells him that he’s in for it. he’ll never be able to get enough now that he’s gotten a taste.

neither of you want to take it too far; swallowing each other's faces in a distinguished, five star restaurant’s museum didn’t seem very proper. so the two of you make your way out of the building, thanking everyone at the front desk, especially the man that helped you out today, and walking into the parking garage where jungkook’s car was.

when you get to his car, he moves to open the passenger door for you but you stop him with a hand on his arm. you reach to open the back door handle and his eyes almost bulge out. everyone knows what happens in the backseat, and jungkook did not prepare himself for something like this.

you look up at him with the most innocent eyes, but there’s something devious hidden in your smile when you ask, “do you wanna talk for a bit longer? in the backseat? it’s more comfortable than sitting in the front.”

jungkook never took you for someone this bold. it’s either you didn’t know the meaning of the backseat (which was totally fine) or you knew very well, and had plans to devour jungkook (which was also totally fine).

he chickens out, his hands starting to sweat. “do you want to just go for a little walk or something?” it’s not like jungkook didn’t want anything to happen, it’s that he did. if he starts, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever recover from it. he walks a tightrope around you when it comes to his self control. one wrong move, and he’s terrified that he’ll fuck everything up.

“oh, it’s just my feet kinda hurt from these heels.” you pout, lifting you foot up to show him the almost stiletto heel.

his eyes widen. why didn’t he think of that? “oh— oh shit, i didn’t even— yeah, let’s sit.” he tugs on the door, letting you slide into the back seat. he follows, leaving a good amount of space between you both to make sure that there was nothing too suspicious going on. you hope your bold moves hide your nervousness, despite your confidence, jungkook’s unsure looks make you want to curl up into a ball. did he not want this?

the air was different now. in the restaurant the two of you had been so carefree, slow dancing in the museum, and landing a sweet kiss on each other’s lips. but now, an uncomfortable silence tears at the two of you. your hesitance makes you speak, trying to see if a conversation would ease the tension in the air. “i had a lot of fun tonight, kookie, thank you.”

it seems to comfort jungkook, he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. with a small smile on his face he replies, “me too, i was really nervous you wouldn’t like the food.”

“oh it was good! i’ll eat anything really, it’s just—“

“you didn’t like the place? was it too much—“

“no, jungkook, oh my god— i loved it, it was just really expensive, i still feel really bad about you paying for all of it,” you look to him seriously. “let me give you at least my half?”

he shakes his head, “i asked you out on this date, it means i pay, don’t worry about the price.”

you roll your eyes playfully, “big spender huh?”

a pretty laugh escapes his lips. “hard worker too.”

to this you smile, you stare at his impossibly-perfect face, noticing a stray eyelash on his cheek. you see a chance to strike and you take it immediately. you lean forward to swipe it off. jungkook almost leans into your touch. he’s so terrified that he’ll embarrass himself right now, so he’s been holding back tremendously. but the way you pick the eyelash off and place it on your thumb with a smile on your face, it eases most of the tension in his chest.

“make a wish!” you hold your thumb up to his lips. his eyes cross to look at the piece of hair on your finger, but nevertheless he obliged. shutting his eyes tight, making a wish, and blowing the eyelash off of your thumb.

you let out a small cheer before you ask him, “what’d you wish for?”

“if i told you then my wish wouldn’t come true, right?” he boops your nose. suddenly, jungkook doesn’t feel so nervous. his nerves calming at the feeling of your soft hands against his face. you make him so nervous, but at the same time you make him so comfortable and make him want to be himself. it seems as though the two of you were staring at each other for a while. jungkook was thinking about how much he likes you, the same ideas run through your mind. the thoughts make you wish for something more.

“can i kiss you again, kookie?”

he stares at you, weighing his options. if he kisses you now, then he has to strategically only give you a few kisses, he absolutely cannot make out with you, or else, jungkook will succumb to his desires.

but he takes a little too long to respond. the both of you overthinking the fuck out of the situation. it makes you draw back. “it’s okay if you don’t want—“

“no, no, please, kiss me,” he brings you back, moving closer to you. licking his lips in anticipation as you slowly push forward, closing the gap between you both. the kiss is so sweet, like the one in the museum. jungkook can still taste the blueberry lingering on your lips. he doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of kissing you.

you pull away first. your eyes scanning his face to see any expression of regret. there’s none. his hand moves to the side of your face, caressing your face and bringing you to him once again to meet your lips. he can’t get enough. “tell me what you wished for, please,” you speak against his lips.

he smiles into the kiss. he wasn’t going to tell you, but since you were asking so nicely, he gives you a kiss on the cheek when he answers, “i wished for a second date.”

“oh, didn’t you know?” you kiss both of his cheeks before speaking again, “i grant wishes,” with wink.

“fuck, you’re so cute,” he thinks out loud, it makes you blush. pink cheeks out for show and jungkook thinks you look even cuter. he dives in for one more kiss, telling himself this will be the last one, but when you make sweet noises against his lips, it has him wanting more. hands moving down to your waist, pulling you in and letting you climb onto his lap. he pulls away first, trying to get a hold of himself. “i uh— actually, didn’t plan for this to happen,“ he mumbles against your skin, tripping over his words.

you look down, arms wrapped around his neck. “hm? what did you plan?”

“we were supposed to kiss on the next date i take you on and i didn’t think— we’re just ahead of schedule, that’s all.” jungkook tries to explain that he didn’t want to rush it, god no. he wanted to take his time, make sure that you didn’t feel pressured to do anything. but now, it seems like you’re taking the wheel and jungkook doesn’t mind it one bit.

“oh so you had like a real plan? like times and everything?” the thought of it makes you laugh, and the way that jungkook flushes makes you want to pinch his cheeks.

he pouts when you giggle, “don’t laugh, i just really, really wanted to do it right, you’re just so amazing and i didn’t wanna fuck it up.”

you smile at his concern. the fact that you have the uni heartthrob planning dates in his head down to the details and wanting to be sure he does it right makes your head spin. you hope jungkook doesn’t notice the way that your heart is beating three times the normal rate when you go to kiss him again. the only sounds in the car are labored breaths and your lips smacking together. it doesn’t take long before you’re grinding into him. his growing bulge rubbing against your soaking core. a groan leaving him when you grind particularly harder, his hands moving to your ass to grip it. you melt in his arms, small whimpers leaving your throat as jungkook drinks them up

you pull away from his lips, giving his cheeks attention then leaving a trail of kisses as you make your way to his ear. one final kiss is planted below his earlobe before you whisper, “am i ruining your plans, kookie?”

jungkook tries his best to conceal his groan, tries his best to ignore his incredibly hard dick in his jeans, but you’re so pretty and you’re on top of him, kissing him. it feels like a dream to jungkook. it is quite literally a dream come true.

he was already playing with fire, your body a flame in the cold, he moves closer and closer until he burns. “fuck plans,” he breathes. a hand comes back to caress your face once again. filthy thoughts flooding his brain. he wonders what being in between your legs is like, what you sound like when you cum. he wants to make you cry and beg for his cock. but he holds himself back, knowing that you’ll have time to try everything out, if you wanted of course. he leans the both of you forward, his large hands splayed on your back to secure you on his lap. your lips find each other once more. “can i touch you?” he asks so sweetly, a hidden poison weaving through that you can slightly hear through the deep rumble of his voice.

you’ve never wanted anything more. “please,” you nod. your lips chasing his when he pulls further away.

jungkook smiles at the action. “lay on my lap, baby.” he instructs, tapping your thigh. the nickname rolling off his tongue, his voice seemingly dropping an entire octave. you raise your leg and move it over to sit on his lap, sideways. your back against the car door and his right hand rubbing your thighs ever so gently.

“like this?” you ask, looking to him for reassurance. he looks to you with eyes that you’ve never seen, lusted and dark.

“mhm, perfect,” he nods. “good girl.” the praise goes straight to your belly, your panties flooding from how much you want him. his hands move slowly down your inner thighs as he goes in to kiss you again.

you’re absentmindedly spreading your legs, making room for him. he smirks against your lips when he realizes. he knows what you want, so his fingers move to your panties, lightly putting pressure over your clothed bud. you whimper at the feeling, biting his lip in the process. he moans in response, putting a little more pressure against your bundle of nerves.

“jungkook,” you whine, pulling away from his lips, “please.”

“please what, baby?” he kisses your cheek, “tell me what you want.”

“please touch me, please.” you beg, making eye contact with him. jungkook’s dick twitches at the sound of your begging. he wanted to string you along a little longer, but you’re being so good.

“since you asked so nicely, baby,” he obliges. bunching your dress up around your waist and noticing the pretty black lace underwear you were wearing, “for me?” he asks. you nod, your teeth taking in your bottom lip. he groans at the thought, you getting ready and picking out these cute, risque panties out just for him. it’s just too bad they’re gonna be on the floor on his car. he’s gonna need to ask for a rain check on admiring you and your cute underwear later.

you lift your hips to help him, underwear coming off to reveal your soaking pussy. “oh, fuck,” jungkook murmurs at the sight of it. “you’re so wet baby.” he almost starts drooling, he can’t wait to taste you, but he’s still hesitant, only wanting to do what you want to. next time, he can eat you out. right now, he’ll admire the delicious sight and make you cum on his fingers.

your eyes travel to the window directly in front of you, suddenly feeling insecure. thighs closing, thinking about how someone could look in and see. “what about the windows—“

“they’re tinted, no one can see from the outside in, i promise.” he reassures, giving you another sweet kiss on the cheek before asking, “do you still want to do this? we can stop now.” he’s so lovely, his concern and change in demeanor only making you want it more, knowing that he wouldn’t want to push you to do something you were uncomfortable with. sweet was sexy on jungkook. you never thought there would be a day that jeon jungkook fingers you in a parking lot of a five star restaurant, but here you are. and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

so you shake your head, taking his hand, and placing it back in between your legs. “please.”

“anything for you.” he whispers in your ear before running his middle finger up your slit, collecting your wetness, and spreading it around your clit. he continues making tight circles on your clit, the sensation drives you crazy. you lean your head back against the window, moaning out. it was almost humiliating how reactive you were, you hadn’t indulged in this kind of intimacy in a while, almost a year to be specific.

it wasn’t helping that jungkook was a fucking pro. the right amount of pressure and the placement of his digits against you has you dripping onto his nice, dress pants. you hoped nobody else was in the parking garage, else they would hear your cries of jungkook’s name. “more, kookie, more— fuck.”

“more baby?” he questions, the sound of your moans going straight to his already hard dick. he thinks he could cum just to the sound of your voice. he’s one hundred percent fucked when it comes to you. he dips his middle finger into your hole, you gasp in reaction. “like that? hmm? ”

jungkook knew was he was doing, he had you spread wide in the backseat of his car, already on the verge on an orgasm. he had a few years of experience on his belt, a ‘retired fuck boy’ he was, but he’s never wanted to please somebody more than he does right now with you. you just looked so pretty like this, so eager and begging for more.

he adds his ring finger now, his thumb against your clit. “oh, god—“ you mutter, the feeling of his fingers and his thumb on your clit is too good. his fingers fucking you better than anyone else’s dick ever has. you found yourself bucking your hips against his fingers. “kookie, kiss me, please,” you look up to him with the eyes he can never fucking deny. so he kisses you, drinking up your moans as you fuck yourself up onto his fingers.

“i didn’t know you were such a dirty girl,” he murmurs against your lips. your walls clenching around him, “letting me touch you like this in the backseat of my car?” his usual sweet demeanor now contorting into this cocky guy with an ego. it makes you even wetter. the squelch of your pussy every time his fingers push in is loud, the sound is music to jungkook’s ears.

“only— only for you, jungkook,” you whimper. you feel a familiar knot in your stomach tighten. he looked so hot like this. eager to please. his bottom lip caught in his teeth and a strand of his long hair dangling in front of his eyes.

“good girl, all mine,” he kisses your neck. it may seem just like something you say during sex, but jungkook wanted it to be true. wanted you and only you. all to himself. he makes his way to a sweet spot, the feeling makes you tilt your head, giving him more access to kiss and suck along the sensitive skin. the discomfort of your back against the hard door was the last of your worries. your orgasm creeping closer and closer, juices leaking all overs his fingers. “so wet baby,” he growls, “i know i could just slide in, fuck you so good.”

“p-please, i want it.” the thought of jungkook fucking you senseless, oh, you’d go crazy. begging wasn’t something you did when it came to sex, most of the time it was quiet, moans and breaths were the only things that you’d hear, no dirty words or praises. it was a good change, you never thought that you’d be so into being talked through it.

he smiles at your eagerness, “patience baby, gotta take you on another date, yeah?” kissing your pursed lips. always so sweet and lovely.

you feel his fingers push a little deeper, curling to find that sweet spot inside of you. your reaction does something to him, makes him hit the exact same spot, over and over again, in a slow, torturous beat just so he can draw those delicious gasps and moans out of you. jungkook feels close. he’s never felt like this before, so wound up. he ignores it, pushing it to the back of his head to focus on helping you reach your climax.

lucky for jungkook, he didn’t have to wait very long. his fingers were longer and a thicker than yours, his efforts making you get there faster than you ever could. the consistent deep strokes of his fingers make the warning signals go off in your head. you speak a verbal warning before, “fuck, i’m gonna cum,” your voice pitches a little higher than usual.

“gonna cum all over my fingers, baby?” he gives you one last sloppy kiss before you’re moaning out and coming onto his fingers, eyes screwed shut as your walls convulse rapidly as his fingers fuck you through your orgasm. “fuck, you’re so hot, ___.”

you feel a smile break on your face. “you’re not so bad yourself,” you wink, still trying to catch your breath. a laugh slips from his mouth, small smirk on his mouth to match. he slips his fingers out, your body twitching at the over stimulation.

“i’m sorry, baby,” he apologizes. inspecting his fingers, your pale almost-white cum coating the digits. he brings them to his mouth, sucking on your sweet sap. you’ve never seen anything hotter in your life. “sweet, just like you,” he smirks. you shrink in his stare, hiding your blush. like you totally didn’t just cum on his fingers.

you’re distracted by the feeling of something hard resting under your thigh, it’s then that you realize, “what about—“ you start but jungkook cuts you off quick.

“no, no, it’s okay, it’ll go away soon.” he shakes his head, but you furrow your eyebrows.

you pull on his black tie, making him lean forward and make eye contact with you “can i?” you ask, so sweetly.

he stares at you with the most sexed eyes you’ve ever witnessed. “you’re driving me crazy.”

“you’re always so sweet to me, jungkook,” you kiss his cheek. readjusting yourself in his lap, straddling him once more. “took me on this amazing dinner, always treating me like a princess.” your lips travel down from his cheeks to his jawline, then to his neck. he shudders at the feeling of your lips against his sensitive skin. your hands move from around his neck to travel further down, to the latch of his belt. his breath hitches. “let me return the favor, kookie.”

“i—“ he laughs, the embarrassment evident in the pink tint on his face. “i won’t last very long.”

you didn’t mind, just assuring him with a sweet kiss on the cheek before you start removing his belt. jungkook leans his head back on the headrest, his neck exposed for you to kiss and suck. you unbutton and unzip, pulling his pants and his boxers down at the same time. his size makes your eyes bulge. he was huge. your mouth waters at the sight.

“you’re so big, kook.” you egg him on, fueling his ego because he just looked so hot. your hand moves to hold him at the base, he lets out a shaky breath when your soft skin meets his. jungkook’s head is in the clouds, he could cum right now if he let go, but he’s holds himself back, not wanting to look like a fool in front of you. your hand moves up his dick, your thumb collecting the precum dripping from his hole, your thumb running over his slit as he groans.

his hips buck up, “shit, baby.” he just sounds so good. you could just lick him up. you collect some saliva in your mouth, letting it drip from your mouth onto his dick to lube your hand. he groans at the sight, “you’re so filthy, baby, holy shit.”

you smirk at the admission, the spit making it so easy for your hand to glide against his cock. the feeling makes him throw his head back again. his chest rising and falling. the picture of him with his eyes screwed shut in pleasure and his mouth agape makes your lower belly light up once more, you clench around nothing. leaning in as you pump his cock to whisper in his ear, “wanna fuck me so bad? have me crying on your cock? you want that, don’t you, kookie?”

jungkook twitches at your words. that’s exactly what he wants. was he that easy to read? was that what you wanted too? the thought of it makes him want to explode, “oh— god, ffuck— fuck,” he sputters. his hand coming up to hover above his head, your hand still pumping as the spurts of his cum shoot out. you smile at the action, knowing he didn’t wanna fuck up your dress. instead just making a mess of him and his hand. he takes deep breaths before speaking, “there’s a little box of tissues in the center console, could you hand it to me, baby?”

you lean back, opening the console and reaching for the small box that sits in the center. before you give it to him, your eyes flicker to the sticky mess all over jungkook’s hand and groin. a sudden urge to lick takes you over, holding jungkook’s hand and bringing it up to your mouth. you lick the dripping cum from the palm of his hand as he watches, maintaining eye contact the entire time.

jungkook shivers, a smile creeping on his face, “you— you’re evil.” the remark makes you laugh.

“sorry, just wanted to help clean up.” you smile, swallowing the cum you collected on your tongue.

“yeah, yeah, you’re not the sweet girl i thought you were,” jungkook quirks a brow.

you roll your eyes playfully, “you don’t like it?”

“nope, i love it, you’re perfect.” jungkook wipes off the remaining mess from his lap and his hand. you help him clean up tissues and he picks up your panties that were discarded on the floor. the two of you fix yourselves before stepping out of the back seat, jungkook opens the passenger door for you before he goes to a trashcan and throws away the soiled tissues.

he joins you back in the car, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot. you were rambling about how happy you were that no one was around and how there were no security cameras in the parking garage. jungkook blabbers too, telling you about how embarrassed he is that he barely lasted a few minutes. before the two of you knew it, his car parked in front of your apartment complex.

he stands outside of your front door, leaning against the doorframe. all dreamy and not like he just made you cum in the backseat of his car. “text me before you sleep?” he smiles.

you nod, “of course,” reflecting the same smile. you wave before closing your door. the date being more than you ever expected. there was no way jungkook was real. he had to be a figment of your imagination, he was the absolute dream guy.

you lay in bed, staring at the stars on your ceiling. a blush creeping up to your cheeks once more when you think about the events that took place tonight.

[11:02 pm] you: thank you for tonight, jungkook

[11:02 pm] you: it was magical <3

[11:03 pm] jungkook: no problem cutie, i had an amazing time with you

[11:04 pm] jungkook: feeling okay?

[11:06 pm] you: i’m great!!! more than okay

[11:07 pm] jungkook: 😂

[11:07 pm] jungkook: i’m glad cutie

[11:08 pm] you: lunch on me next time? now that you’ve taken me for dinner :)

[11:08 pm] jungkook: sure, i’m down :)

[11:09 pm] you: i’m rlly tired kookie

[11:10 pm] you: gonna head to sleep now

[11:10 pm] jungkook: alright cutie

[11:11 pm] jungkook: sweet dreams!

｡ﾟ(ﾟ^Ｏ^ﾟ)ﾟ｡ tag list: @giadalin @ggukkieland

2K notes · View notes

kalmeria · 2 years ago

Text

(currently unnamed) enstars oc time!

this is self indulgent (as it should be hehe) and inspired by riko and zako doing their own ocs!

picrew link

first image is work clothes, second is casual

he/it

profile

age: 22-23

height: 172 cm

weight: 69 kg

dob: may 26th (gemini)

handedness: right-handed

hair color: verdigris

eye color: cotton candy

favorite food: pizza, most sweets

hobby: baking

speciality: has perfect pitch

image color: #39665e

some info:

- it works at cafe cinnamon part time

- it is kind of neutral about idols, not a hardcore fan but can see the appeal and likes some of the music

- he basically chose to work there bc he lives near the es

- he gets along with niki well, the two of them goof around at work and brainstorm ideas for new menu items (he mostly gives ideas for the desserts)

- usually keeps his hair in a low bun for work, but sometimes wears it in a ponytail and niki and him call each other ponytail buddies

- it isn’t a chef like niki, but works as a barista and makes the drink orders as well as preparing the desserts

- tends to quietly sing or hum to himself while working because it helps him concentrate

- at first was kind of annoyed/ intimidated by the bees who were always hanging out at the cafe (especially rinne who he found very loud), but gradually got used to their constant presence and warmed up to them

- has been roped into playing a boardgame with them once, on the condition that they don’t bet on it with real money. rinne agreed bc he has been trying to make it loosen up a bit and therefore was willing to play “baby mode” (his words) just this once to make that happen. it beat rinne’s ass but himeru ended up winning the whole game

(honestly enjoyed itself while playing and would like to do it again if only rinne stopped insisting on raising the stakes)

((i want him to somehow end up hanging out with asobi club))

- so obviously he isn’t a producer or anything like that but is still kind of aware of all the things going on from chatting with niki and overhearing the customers (although niki himself is often out of the loop so it’s mostly the latter)

- he is kind of an honorary member of sweets fanclub. the members took notice of how the dessert menu has had a larger variety and more limited items recently and started to come by more regularly on their outings. didn’t take long to figure out that niki’s new coworker was behind this, and they started to include it in their conversations about what places they recommend, etc.

- it would never say this to them but it kind of thinks of kohaku and tsukasa as little siblings

#ive been rotating some vague ideas around recently but then ended up writing this after my little vent yesterday #then i spent a lot of time looking for a picrew i liked #it is not a self insert btw but also not not a self insert #was just thinking how i couldn’t have a producer-sona bc that’s so far from me and so is being an idol #so instead it’s this!#i’ll try to think about names later. names are hard but needed #for now it’s just #oc: 🍬#enstars oc #i’m not rereading this again. if i said something stupid then that’s that #oh and i also want to decide its personal pronouns

5 notes · View notes

satnin-darling · 4 years ago

Text

Bacchanal. (m) | I. | Kim Taehyung, Jeon Jungkook, 3.5k

Pairing(s): Reader x Taehyung, Eventual Reader x Jungkook, Eventual Taehyung x Reader x Jungkook

Summary: In ancient times, bacchanal’s were typically wild, drunken celebrations. A more modern (but equally carnal and hedonistic) interpretation is that both Taehyung and Jungkook will be more drunk on you than alcohol, which can also lead to excessive debauchery if limits were not heeded to. Here is a party where you and Taehyung being horny for each other was unavoidable. Then, Jungkook arrives. You cross paths which has him questioning whether it was all a dream. It might be, yet dreams can be a window to reality if he tries hard enough.

Warnings/Tags: RATED M (18+); for language, smut (fem-reader; fingering; penetrative sex; multiple orgasms - all next to Jungkook, who is supposedly passed out, asleep); Taehyung is many things but he is also an exhibitionist here 😜; Jungkook is drunk af 😩; non-idol!AU - part-time fuck buddies/part-time lovers 😳

=====

This can tip the balance into pwp but as per, I’m not one to stray from a workable plot 😉

Anyway, welcome to this brainchild of mine - with Taekook, no less 🤪

=====

“Did you wear that just for me?”

“What if I did?” You asked, your voice almost drowned by the music that shook the walls.

Amongst the din and dim lighting, Taehyung’s eyes swept over your body. Your short skirt, your lace top with the deepest plunge, disappearing into the waist of your skirt. The exposed skin was a signal and on your skin, the way your necklaces layered over each other, all roads leading to one thing. Everything was scant, the fabric easy to slide, tug, or yank.

He had his hand next to your head as if to shield you, his lips hovering over yours in a featherlight brush. You could taste him so you snaked your tongue out, wetting his bottom lip. There it was, the change in his breath as you placed your finger at the base of his neck feeling his pulse. The tan colour of his skin was tinted from the numerous lights that flashed. He was still looking at you, waiting. A body moved past but Taehyung was like a stronghold, you were shielded, hardly affected.

“I don’t think Jimin would appreciate us fucking in his house,” he said, his words were drawn out, as if you wouldn’t comprehend straight away.

He emphasised the word ‘fucking’ and punctuated it with a smirk. You slid your finger down till it tugged against the button of his shirt. It was black satin, nothing special. But on him it did wonders. It draped over his frame loosely, billowing with his movements. It looked better off than on.

“Do you really care?” You asked, reminding him of the truth. A house had rooms, many of which are to your disposal. And anyway, you could fuck anywhere.

Another person walked past, drawing your attention. Black leather, lengthy dark hair, muscular and broad, the unsteady gait of someone inebriated. Or past that point. But they were gone in a blink as Taehyung pressed his lips against yours, causing a small hum to reverberate through you, just for him.

“I think Jimin mentioned an attic,” you murmured, nipping his bottom softly to tease. Taehyung drew closer, you smell his scent, sharp and masculine. You wanted it against your skin. But more so, you wanted it to join the smell of sex, the thick scent that wrapped around you after. You wanted that.

“He also mentioned a room upstairs, much…” you said, while dragging your palm down till you unfastened his belt, one button left, “…more convenient,” you sighed, thrilled at his hard erection.

Taehyung sheltered his groans against your lips, you could always make him fall apart and it made you rub your thighs at the thought. His hand prevents you from doing that any further, his long fingers lifted the hem of your skirt, finding your clothed slit.

“Where?” He asked, his thumb pressing against your clit, pushing the air from your lungs in one, sharp breath, right into his mouth, the mouth that did so many good things for you and to you.

“I told you,” you whispered, pulling back only to be met by his furrowed brow. You saw his parted lips and noted his laboured breaths. It was so easy, you didn’t need a room, you could have each other here. At his pause, your hand worked fast to palm him, his throbbing cock constrained by a singular layer. He kept his distance, waiting for you to respond.

“Upstairs.”

Jungkook was drunk and on the verge of passing out. He was an interloper in the previous party so he had to find another, elsewhere. The address that Jimin gave on his phone became intelligible to him so he showed it to the driver of the taxi instead. The movements of car almost made him throw up as he folded himself in the back seat. Lights coalesced into strips which reminded him of long exposure photographs, his whole vision jittered. The driver tried to talk to him but he was too focused on keeping his head from lolling. Regret about drinking far too much in so little time fought with his focus; he pressed his palm against the door to steady himself.

When the taxi finally came to an abrupt halt, he rocketed out into the fresh air, inhaling it deeply so that his mind was sharpened and cooled. His bags were heavy and that had the effect of slowing him down; he grunted as the leather straps rubbed against his hands. The house was modest but its windows were multicoloured rectangles, silhouettes were warped against the linen curtains. He ran his tongue over his top teeth and eventually rested it on the side of his lip. Despite his earlier wishes, all he wanted was to pass out in peace.

The front door was a wide open and there was a steady flow of people coming in and out. He weaved through them clumsily while the throb of the music threatened to split his brain. There were people leaning against a wall, a couple draped over each other. He saw all black, a short skirt, and hands where they shouldn’t be. Still, they weren’t fully formed in his vision, he was living in vertigo. He ignored it, heading upstairs to the nearest room.

Taehyung led you through the darkened room, his hand gripping yours with a sense of urgency that you fed off of. The door shuts with a soft click, submerging everything into darkness. The music falls away into a muffled thud; there was now a separation.

Immediately, your lips were on his as your arms circled around his neck. A quick glance showed you that you were fortunate enough to stumble into a room with a large bed with freshly laid sheets. It was dark but it didn’t bother you so much. The back of your knees hit the edge and you sank down, raising your legs, enjoying the view of him coming over you, feeling his dark hair brush against your forehead. The weight of Taehyung over you was welcomed, the familiar pressure on your body.

His fingers snake down past your top, under your skirt. He yanks the scant fabric up so it bunches at your waist, till he feels the lace of your underwear because you were spread wide, your clit swollen, your body needy. You moaned in his mouth as he pressed his finger, soaking the tip with your juices, you tip your hips down, wanting more.

“Want me so bad?” He asked, his voice low as he parted from you, his lips away again, a relentless tease.

You didn’t want to dignify that question with an answer but he was making it so hard. You reach up, your head angled so that your lips find his instantly. You feel his smile, a willing surrender. His fingers wander away from where it mattered, up until he pulls your underwear to the side, exposing your pussy to the cold air. Your hands find their way onto the bed, skimming the fabric, hearing the hush as they swept along, but you pause. Instead of the surface staying flat, it rose into a noticeable shape. Like the contours of a mountain, it was warm and breathing.

A human. Well, a man to be exact.

“There’s someone here,” you whispered, seeing his face in profile.

Your eyes finally adjusted. It was the same person you saw shouldering his way through people, his dark hair falling over his eyes, his lips parted due to being against the pillow. Handsome and fast asleep, small snores, like bubbles, rose from his throat.

“He’s asleep,” Taehyung replied, though his voice was muffled since it was roving up your neck, his tongue snaking out, leaving a trail of heat that finished on your jaw. You shifted, placing some distance between you and the sleeping figure.

“Tae…Tae, he’s right there,” you hissed, lowering your voice since he had pushed you up the bed, his hands not once stopping their movements, with one snaking up your inner thigh, his fingers stroking your slit in long, languid strokes. His nail grazed your clit, you placed your hands on his shoulders and hid your face in the crook of his neck, fearing that you won’t be able to control the sounds that escaped you.

“If you’re so worried, then why are you so wet?” He murmured, his lips by your ear.

You screwed your eyes shut at the sensation of his fingers entering you. The first digit goes in up to the second knuckle, instantly coated in your juices. You hold your breath, trapping the air in your lungs that threatened to come out as a needy moan. The second fingers enters, then the third. You press your lips against the base of his neck, your own body betraying you as your hips followed the thrust of his fingers.

“T-tae… please,” you whispered, the plea morphed into a moan, breathy and needy. Everything you tried not to convey.

He ignored you as his fingers were fast, slick with your juices. You bit down on your lip so hard that you swore it could draw blood. Taehyung looked down at you, at how you were trembling, at how you were fighting yourself from not moving your hips to meet him halfway. Your legs stay up, your skirt bunched up beyond repair, the heat that bloomed underneath your skin transformed it into a sweat slicked surface. From arousal or the prospect of getting caught, it didn’t matter.

His palm slaps your clit as his fingers find your deepest spot, the sound was audible, sinful. Your juices were pushed past your pussy, dripping down on the fresh sheets. Jimin would not appreciate this at all. The pleasure spiked and peaked with Taehyung’s fingers thrusting in with a fury that you had no choice but to tip your head back, surrendering yourself to him, forgetting about the person who was slumbering next to you. Small moans found their way past the gap in your lips, enough to hint at the pleasure that you were experiencing. You feel yourself tightening, your body already feeling when the wave will crash.

But Taehyung’s ministrations stopped, his fingers staying inside you as your orgasm fizzled away. You were set alight only to be doused in water in the same breath. The muscles in your body sing from the loss of movement, the only sound you allowed yourself to emit was a soft whine. Involuntary, all his fault. He looked at you, his demeanour calm and in control. You wait with your pussy clenching around his fingers.

“Is that what you want? For me to stop?” He asked, followed by a smirk, the slightest hint of teeth peeking from his pink lips. You glared at him.

“We might wake him.”

It was a point that you would have raised earlier, before Taehyung was about to take you over the edge so it came out rather pathetically. The man next to you slumbered peacefully, almost beautifully. So unaware of what was happening, the debauched scene that could either make him hard or repulse him. Some part of you wanted to know, perhaps it was the amoral side of you. Your hands stayed by your sides, gripping the sheets firmly, but not so that it roused the third party.

Taehyung needed no further protests as he raised his hand, his fingers leaving your pussy only for them to flick up, nails softly grazing your swollen clit. There was a pause, a breath, a beat, before the pleasure comes back. More intense, more deliberate. It was with a prospect of orgasm and you tip your head back because this time, you trust him. His fingers thrust inside your pussy shallowly while his lips find yours, drinking your measured moans, finding your cries waiting at the back of your throat. Your pussy clamps around his fingers as he drives them so deep that your legs flinch, his thumb at your clit, pressing but not moving. The curl of his fingers, a taste of the roughness your sought. The same roughness he could deliver. His thumb swept your clit, slow until it became more brisk. It was enough, it was all you needed. He looked at you, no, stared at you, as you try to shield your stuttered gasps by cutting your lower lip with your teeth.

“T-taehyung… fuck,” you sighed, your body shuddering as your orgasm finally blooms upon you, halting everything, all thought. Your heart lurches in your chest, unable to cope because you couldn’t either.

Taehyung rubbed your clit, unrestrained, knowing that he could have you any way he liked. Your walls tightened around his fingers while you gripped on the sheets so hard that you were afraid that they would lift. Your juices coated and spilled since it had nowhere to go, he pulls his fingers out of you as you held your breath, watching as he splayed the soaked digits over your pulsing pussy, your arousal painting your inner thighs. His laboured breaths don’t escape you and even in the dimness, you could see his cock outlined in his black jeans, so hard that it gets you started again.

But there was shift, the sheets raising as the sleeping stranger moved, his head burrowing more onto the pillow. He gets Taehyung’s attention as you remained as still as you could, your legs straining from holding the position. You both wait. You, for once with the fear of getting caught but for Taehyung, it seemed to galvanise him. The movement stops, the shift of his body against the sheets quietened and the stranger becomes a statue once again. Taehyung turned to you, dropping his weight over your body, his hard cock just centimetres away from your pussy.

“W-we can’t,” you whispered. Your hand circles his wrist but your grip wasn’t convincing. It was weak and suggested otherwise. Taehyung raised his eyebrows at you. He knew you so well. Too well.

One hand catches your wrists, large enough to imprison them in his hold. Your arms were now above your head as your chest pushes upwards, arching into his pull. The other hand drags down, down past the exposed triangle of skin only to lift the fabric of your top to pinch your hardened nipple. You whined, powerless as your legs squeeze his hips, his fingers tug, they pinch, they press until you were a mess beneath him. You turn your head so that your lips could find purchase agains the skin of your arm in a desperate attempt to drown your moans. Taehyung kissed your jaw, his tongue leaving wet licks, sending your thoughts awry. Then, his lips to your ear, his breath warm, his voice so deep that it incites a physical reaction, a throb in your core.

“You look too pretty not to get fucked.”

“Here?”

That was your last attempt before you yielded to that side of you. The side that would heed to these moments, the amoral version of you that knew that you are too pretty not to get fucked. Taehyung lifts himself, his hands letting you go for a brief moment but you don’t move them, you keep still, you wait, you hold your breath.

The sound his zip coming down with the sound of a foil packet ripping. There was the pause as he rolled the condom over his cock.

“Where else?” He asked, the final smirk before his hand find themselves where they were, over your wrists, pressing down, confining you.

Taehyung leans down as you gasped in his mouth, his cock entering you swiftly, stretching your pussy, your walls wet enough, taking him in. You feel him, all of him, his hard cock moulding into velvet walls, brutal thrusts that were toe-curling. Your arms strained against him, your legs lifting higher, folding into you, the bed creaking from the way your bodies pressed together but came apart in the same motion. You trusted that the stranger slept since you were busy, busy being fucked, busy with Taehyung’s cock buried inside you, parting your pussy in the most satisfying way.

“Fuck.. fuck,” he groaned, his own sounds making their way into the air, forming into desire.

The very desire that was for you.

It was hard not to revel in it, knowing that you could bring that out of him. The way his voice had a depth that only you could tease out. His hand leaves your wrist in favour of leverage, his arms planting themselves on the side of your head so he could plough his cock deeper, his hips driving faster. Your moans were escalating, the decibels tipping past to the point of disturbance, you didn’t care. Not when it was this good. Taehyung’s shirt billowed with his movements, shimmering in spite of the darkness, you grasped the backs of your thighs, spreading yourself so wide, tipping your hips down that you beckoned him to fuck you harder. His eyes find their way to yours, you connect, you understand. He complies, the slap of skin against skin complete with shallow thrusts. Each time the space closed, your clit suffered from the pain and pleasure, radiating all along your being. It was too much, you couldn’t even scream, the stranger next to you knew nothing as you felt everything.

But it was one look, the look that Taehyung gave you that sent you careening. You knew that he wanted to be loud, as loud as you always were when you were together, it was evident in his eyes. The way the elegant shape became constricted as his brow furrowed, his lips forming into a distinct grimace. His thrusts were precise but lacked the vigour that would cause the bed to shudder. Though they were hard and rough, and the pleasure snaked up your spine so abruptly that you had to clamp your hand over your mouth, cutting your noise.

Your breath came out sharply through your nose, as your orgasm crashed, spotting your vision with white light. Taehyung collapsed over you, his sharp scent, the balmy texture of sweat meeting you, the pulse on his neck pressing against yours knuckles. His groans are muffled as his face meets the sheets above your head as he cums in to the condom, his hips jerking in micro-movements, the spurts of cum swelling the latex, your walls pulsing rapidly in response. Beneath, you whimpered, your fingers still over your mouth, not trusting yourself with the sounds you were capable of. He pressed you down onto the mattress, you feel the weight of him, your necklaces absorbing the heat, the pendants impressing grooves onto your skin. You witness the way you both unravelled, the tightness that wound on you both snapping as your bodies go lax.

“Fuck,” you breathed, as Taehyung propped himself up while your fingers leave your mouth. The blood returned to your limbs, the thud of your heart ratted your ribcage.

There was another shift, you turned your attention to sleeping stranger who now oriented his body so that his back faced you. Another pause had you waiting until everything stilled. There was a sigh that escaped both of you. But whether it was from pleasure of relief, it escaped you.

In the middle of the night Jungkook awoke. It was so hot in the bed all of the sudden and he thrashed against the confines of the sheets. But as soon as he attempted more movement he was reminded that his consciousness was still soaked in alcohol, like his brain was cotton. On his back, he saw a vague silhouette, a black mountain that eventually shaped into intertwined figures. He was confused. He recalled entering the room alone after dumping his bags somewhere. He also recalled slipping into the cool sheets in the furthest corner of the sizeable bed. Beyond that, nothing. Now there were occupants and the air was thick with a scent that he couldn’t pin point. He moved once more, turning so that he faced them, the strangers who shared his bed.

It wasn’t until he shoved the sheets down to temper the heat that sank over him did one other move with him. But his brain failed him, the cotton of his thoughts drenched in alcohol that he thought he was experiencing an apparition. In the dark, as his eyes adjusted, he saw a finger to the lips, a chaste wink. The other figure slumbered, the dark hair falling over his eyes, a strong profile. Your head rests on his outstretched arm.

Jungkook also saw a short skirt, a top with a deep plunge, the way it hinted at the swell of breasts with layered necklaces tangling over them, just enough to tease. Your hand reached to him as he narrowed his eyes, your fingers brushed his hair, down till they touched his eyelids, luring him to shut his eyes. Then came the soft whisper of someone who cared. The tone which made him submit to the notion that it was a dream as opposed to reality. He closed his eyes, a willing participant in the gentle reminder that he should rest.

“Sleep… it’s okay. Just sleep.”

next.

masterlist.

#taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #kim taehyung x reader #bts fic #bts smut #bts fanfic #taehyung x you #bts v #bts taehyung #bts fanfiction #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #bts jungkook #jungkook x you #taehyung fic #jungkook fic #taekook x reader #jungkook smut

256 notes · View notes

pickalilywrites · 3 years ago

Note

Requests are open. Can you write one where Levi has two lives he in. One where he is the lead singer of No Name where no one knows his true identify (aside bandmates, their manager Erwin and Hange's childhood buddy Moblit) and his other life is he's a college student working part time at a nearby popular cafe where Special Ops works at as well who are huge fans of No Name, especially Petra. 104th are customers as well. Rivetra fic with some Mobuhan, Eremika, Aruani. Concert in the end be nice!

i hope you like it :)

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

Hidden Track

Rivetra. College AU.

9997 words.

Read on Ao3!

“Ask her out.”

Levi blinks at Hanji. He thinks he must have misheard, but his childhood friend doesn’t bat an eyelash as they tune their guitar. He sits up from where he’s lounging on the couch and asks slowly, “Did you not hear my problem?”

“You did. You told us this girl in your music composition class has been bothering you for weeks because she wants to collaborate with you on the final and you don’t want to sing for her,” Hanji answers, not looking away from the tuning pegs as they strum at the strings. They frown when the open-string chord doesn’t sound quite right. It’s because their B string is just a little too flat, but Levi isn’t about to tell them that.

“...Right,” Levi says. He waits for Hanji to explain the connection between his problem and their solution, but it never comes. He purses his lips and then asks, “How is asking her out supposed to solve my problem?”

“Because she’s obviously into you,” the guitarist explains with a roll of their eyes. They turn the peg a little bit and smile when the chord is finally in tune. They set the guitar down gently on the guitar stand beside them and face Levi. They’re leaning rather dangerously on the stool they’re sitting on, their fingers steepled. “Nobody would want to work with a stranger that badly on a final project if they weren’t interested in them, especially if they’ve pretty much displayed zero talent in that class to begin with.”

Levi begins to huff but Hanji raises a hand.

“Right, I know you’re just keeping a low profile because we all want this band to remain anonymous, but you have to think about it, Levi,” Hanji continues. “You haven’t sung a peep for that class and this girl wants you to sing for her final composition? That project is fifty percent of her final grade. There’s no way she’d risk her grade and collaborate with a total stranger whose talent is completely unknown.”

Levi raises an eyebrow. “So you think she’d put her entire grade in jeopardy because she’s interested in me?”

Hanji nods. “Love makes you stupid,” they say with a dreamy smile and a wave of their hand. Beside them, the quiet drummer of the band nods.

Levi sighs. Hanji is right most of the time. There’s a reason why they’re still in the running as a valedictorian for their school despite being a STEM major, but they’re not right about everything. Levi is pretty certain this is one of those things that Hanji isn’t going to be right about. They might know everything there is to know about organic chemistry and chemical bonding, but it doesn’t mean they know anything about matters of the heart.

“Okay, let’s entertain the very ridiculous idea that the girl in my music composition class is interested in me romantically,” Levi says. He tries to speak casually, but the notion is so unimaginable to him that the words fall out of his mouth awkwardly. He ignores the strange look from their drummer Mike. “Why should I date her just because she might like me?”

“Why? Do you not like her?” Hanji asks. “Is she ugly?”

“She’s not -” Levi shakes his head furiously. He hardly knows what the girl looks like because the only time he’s paying attention to her is when he’s saying no. Ginger hair, amber eyes? That’s all he can really remember. Even if he could conjure up an image of her, what she looks like isn’t the point. “I don’t even know her.”

“You could just tell her you’re not interested in her,” Mike says quietly. He’s tapping gently right above his drums and cymbals. He never really likes to practice on his own unless he has his drum pads out. He thinks it’s strange making so much noise on his own. “You can say you’re not interested in her or being part of her final project.”

“Ugh.” Neither option sounds appealing to Levi. He doesn’t want to go on a date with a girl he doesn’t know and he doesn’t want to reject her on the off chance that she really is just interested in him for her project and not romantically. He has to do something, unfortunately, and right now Mike is presenting the best option. “I’ll just reject her then. It seems like the most reasonable thing to do. Sometimes, Hanji, I think Mike should be the one in the running for valedictorian and not you.”

“Hey, I’m working hard for my GPA,” Hanji sniffs, but they smile sweetly at Mike. “I wouldn’t mind sharing the stage with you though, Mike. Good thing we do that every weekend, eh?”

Mike smiles but he keeps his head down as he’s apt to do when he’s complimented.

Levi fiddles with an invisible piece of lint on his sweater and frowns. “I hope you both know that if it goes terribly, I still have five weeks left of this course with this girl.”

“Not just the five weeks,” Mike says. “She works with you at the cafe you started working at, remember?”

Levi grimaces at the unpleasant reminder. “Fuck.”

“Well, you’ve already made up your mind to do it, so stop complaining,” Hanji says. They pick up their guitar again and let their fingers dance across it, low notes reverberating off the strings and around their manager’s basement. “What’s this girl’s name, by the way? If you’re going to reject her, you should at least be polite and know her name.”

“Petra Ral,” Levi says automatically. It’s not as if he wanted to remember it. He couldn’t forget it if he tried. It’s the first thing she says to him whenever she approaches, her hand outstretched as if this time will be the time he reaches out and accepts her offer. He’s never shaken her hand once, always walking past her with a hasty “no” whenever she does come by. It’s a wonder why she hasn’t given up yet.

“Ah, she’s cute,” Hanji comments. At Levi’s puzzled look, they say, “She was in a few of my music classes, too.”

“She was in my music theory class last quarter,” Mike says from behind his drum set. “She’s majoring in music production. She takes her courses pretty seriously.”

“Ah.”

“She’s got a good ear for it if she can pick out a good vocalist without even hearing Levi sing,” Hanji comments with a lopsided grin.

“This ‘good vocalist’ is never going to sing if we keep talking about this,” Levi grumbles. He really doesn’t want to talk about this anymore. He isn’t looking forward to seeing Petra Ral tomorrow and rejecting her, so he’s going to avoid thinking about it for as long as possible.

“Alright, alright,” Hanji says, hopping off the stool and slipping their guitar strap around their shoulder. “Ah, fuck. I forgot my guitar pick again. Or I dropped it in the lab. Fuck!”

The basement door opens just then and Hanji’s childhood friend Moblit pops his head in. “Ah, Hanji,” he says as he hurries down the stairs. He fumbles for something in his pocket and then offers a guitar pick to Hanji. “I found this in the passenger seat of my car. It must have fallen out of your pocket when I dropped you off for lab this morning.”

“Mobit, you absolutely perfect human being,” Hanji gushes as they reach for the pick, making sure to lean in and give Moblit a quick peck on the lips as they do so. The two of them have been dating for a while, but even the briefest displays of affection still make Moblit turn a violent shade of red.

Levi rolls his eyes and signals for Mike to start. He closes his eyes as he listens to the beat of the drum. He lets it clear his mind of his problems: academia, part-time work, and the ginger-haired girl in his music composition class. All of his problems fade away and he opens his mouth and sings.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

Levi is hoping that today is the day Petra stops asking him to be her final project partner. He hopes the same hope every day, but it’s always useless. She’s the most stubborn person he’s ever had the misfortune of knowing. As soon as he steps foot in the cafe, Petra is in his face, his green apron in her hand and a bright smile on her face. He always wonders how she can smile at him so brightly when he’s rejected her dozens of times already.

“Hi, Levi,” Petra says, handing him his apron which he gingerly takes. She follows him to the counter, walking with a little bit of a skip of her step. As he slips into his position behind the register, she leans over, her head almost resting on his shoulder. “It’s me, Petra, from your music composition class.”

“I know. You’ve introduced yourself to me almost every day since that class started. My answer is still no,” Levi says. He doesn’t even offer her a side glance and chooses instead to keep his head facing forward for customers who won’t be coming in until brunch hour starts.

Petra’s head retreats and Levi thinks she’s given up, but he couldn’t be more wrong. She’s leaning across the counter now, her head tilting up towards him as she pouts. “Come on. You don’t want me to fail this class, do you? There’s only a few more weeks until the final project is due,” she tells him.

“We don’t have to collaborate with anyone in the class for this final project. You could sing for your final project,” Levi points out. He glances back at the kitchen where their other coworkers are bickering about how long the pastries have been in the oven. (Too long, if you ask Levi. There’s just the faintest smell of something burning.) “Or why don’t you ask one of your friends?”

“If I ask one of them, I’ll really fail. None of them have any musical background,” Petra sniffs with a wrinkle of her nose. She goes back to pouting at Levi, reaching out to tug childishly on his sleeve. “I’m majoring in music, but it’s not like I’m a singer. You’re really the only person that can help me with my final project.”

Levi shakes his head. “You’ve never even heard me sing,” he says. He tries to keep his tone calm, but inside he’s shaking. There’s a reason why his band has remained anonymous, and he’s determined to keep it that way. Life is complicated enough without people knowing he’s one of the hidden faces of No Name. “Maybe I’m tone deaf. Maybe I can’t keep rhythm. Maybe I can’t read notes. You don’t know enough about me to plan your entire final project around me.”

Petra smirks and there’s something about it that makes Levi think she knows more than she’ll say out loud. It makes him want to shake her, to demand what she actually knows about him, to ask her why she’s so sure his voice is the perfect one for her project.

“I just have a feeling about you,” Petra says, eyes studying him a little too closely. She waves a hand around, circling it like she’s drawing an outline of Levi’s face. “You’re in a music class but you’re not a music major…”

“It’s for my elective credit,” Levi lies, but he makes the mistake of speaking a little too quickly. He can see the smile on Petra’s face grow a little bit wider and he curses himself inwardly.

“Most people would take an easier class for their elective credit. You’re a junior, too, so it would have been easier for you to get one of the easy-A courses, but let’s just entertain the idea that you’re doing this purely to fulfill your elective credit,” Petra says. She taps her cheek with a knowing smile. “That doesn’t explain why you’re taking private vocal lessons.”

Levi opens his mouth and then quickly closes it. It’s a little known secret that students taking music courses are allowed to take free private music lessons for the quarter they’re enrolled in regardless of whether or not they’re majoring in music. Levi had thought he had been a little more discreet when sneaking into his private lessons, but it seems he hasn’t been careful enough.

He should probably regain his composure, but he’s spluttering too hard. Before he can even think straight, he spits, “Aren’t you a little too interested in me, Ral?”

Petra’s smile freezes and she blinks once. Her smile widens once more but it’s less relaxed than it was before. “I hope you’re not implying what I think you’re implying, Ackerman,” she says. He’s never heard her voice so cold before. “Other than your voice, I’m not interested in you at all. To put it bluntly, I find everything else about you unappealing. It’s been a pain in the ass trying to ask you to collaborate with me on my project, but I’ve only been doing it because I’m a perfectionist. Don’t flatter yourself by thinking it’s for any other reason.”

Too startled to say anything else, Levi stammers, “I-I won’t.” He can only stare after Petra as she walks into the kitchen, the rest of their coworkers staring at her and wondering why the perpetually smiling ginger is in such a sour mood today.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

Levi usually doesn’t pay much attention to people. He doesn’t know if people like him or hate him, and he doesn’t hang around them enough to care. Aside from his bandmates, he’s not really sure who likes him and he’s never cared enough to find out. Now that he knows that Petra dislikes him, it really bothers him. Maybe it’s because they spend so much time together between class and shifts at Cafe Paradis. Then again, it’s probably because he’s so painfully aware that Petra dislikes him.

As much as he hates to admit it, he’s become accustomed to Petra’s existence. He has gotten used to her constantly popping up in front of him whenever he stepped foot in class or in the cafe and hearing her voice call after him whenever he left for the day. Now, it seems stranger to not hear her speaking to him. She’s a lot quieter than he remembers her and she smiles a lot less, at least that what he sees from the few glimpses of her face he can catch. She becomes so distant and disinterested in him that Levi finds it even worse than when she had been constantly chasing him down for her final project.

To make matters worse, Levi can’t stop thinking about Petra’s final project. He’s not even worried about his own final project which he hasn’t even started yet. Whenever he sits down to play some notes on the keyboard, his mind keeps wandering to Petra and if she ever found someone to replace his voice. He tells himself it’s not his problem. Any reasonable person would have just found someone else or just went without a vocalist. Having a vocalist in your music composition isn’t a requirement anyway. Unless you’re a perfectionist. An unreasonable perfectionist who would rather chase down the same person who rejected them for weeks because said perfectionist is convinced that person is the one who will propel their final music composition into some new genre that will redefine music.

Levi doesn’t even know when he had put himself between Petra and the door, preventing her from exiting the cafe. It just happens.

“I’ll be in your dumb music composition,” he says to her.

Petra looks at him, amber eyes wide in surprise. When she finally takes in what he’s said, she can’t help the smile that spreads across her face. Levi had thought he’d be more relieved when Petra left him alone, but for some reason it’s far better to see that smile back on her face.

“Oh, thank god. I was worried I’d have to go without a vocalist,” she tells him.

“You could have just rewritten it,” Levi mumbles.

“No way, the part I wrote is perfect for you,” Petra says with a shake of her head. Levi wonders how she can say this when she’s never heard him sing. “I mean, I could have, but I was holding out for you just in case you changed your mind. Otherwise I would have rewritten it a half hour before the deadline to turn it in.”

“Were you really that deadset on having me sing for you?” Levi sighs. He never knew someone could be this stubborn, but he has to admit that such a level of obstinance is worthy of some admiration.

“Yep,” Petra says without the slightest hint of shame in her voice.

“Okay, well, just let me know when you want to record. I have my other final projects to prepare for and you probably do too -” Levi begins, but he finds a messy stack of papers being thrust at him. He’s so surprised that they nearly fall to the floor. When he takes a look at them (many of them crumpled, he notices), he sees an itinerary, a bunch of lyrics with notes hastily scribbled in, and some music scores that have been written and rewritten at least a dozen times. He looks up, an eyebrow raised at Petra. “Did you just have all of these ready for me even if you didn’t know I was going to say yes? What if I never said yes, Petra?”

“It never would have happened because I knew you were going to say yes,” Petra says cheekily. She brushes a lock of ginger hair behind her ear and leans over to point a finger at the itinerary. “Let’s start recording tomorrow. Ideally, you would have agreed to work with me at the end of the first week when I started asking, so we’re already behind. I have a few notes about the lyrics scribbled in and you can look at my score if you’re curious about the composition or want to play out the melody before we hit the recording studio.”

Levi frowns as he flips through the papers. They’re horribly unkempt. There are still eraser shavings sticking to some of these papers and notes written in different color pens, but he does find that Petra is incredibly detailed with her work. “I have a thing on weekends,” he starts to mumble, but Petra waves a hand.

“No worries. Just text me. My phone number is on a sticky note somewhere in there,” she tells him as she hoists her backpack back onto her shoulder. She’s smiling at him more brightly than she ever had before. “See you later, Levi. I’m looking forward to working with you.”

Levi’s ginger-haired coworker slips past him and he watches as she walks away. He’s still staring after her even though she’s turned the corner and disappeared from his view. When he looks back at her notes and the many scribbles written in between the lines, he wonders if he’s done the right thing or made the wrong choice.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

Levi meets Petra at the music building two hours before their shift at Cafe Paradis. She’s listening to something on her phone but quickly pockets her earbuds after seeing Levi arrive.

“You know,” she says after opening the door to the music building for Levi, “I kind of didn’t expect you to show up.”

“What kind of asshole do you think I am?” Levi scoffs, slightly miffed. She doesn’t know anything about him but has enough of an opinion of him to think he’s an asshole that probably sings well. He doesn’t know if he should be flattered or insulted. “What were you going to do if I didn’t show up?”

“Sob loudly about how I waited all night for you during our shift at Paradis tomorrow morning so that everyone would know how much of an asshole you were,” Petra says with a grin.

She leads him around the music building, crossing the lobby and heading towards the back where the staircase is. Levi has only ever been upstairs. The higher levels are where the classes are usually located as well as the practice rooms for vocal lessons. He’s never bothered to go downstairs. As they walk through the hallway, Levi looks through the windows at what looks like recording booths. They’re a lot simpler than the ones he’s been to when recording albums for No Name, but he probably shouldn’t expect much from the university.

Petra sees him from the corner of her eye. “They’re not really anything to write home about,” she says with a wrinkle of her nose. “They get the job done, though, and they’re impressively soundproof both inside and out.”

They end up at a room at the end of the hall. Petra takes a key out from her bag and inserts the key but makes a funny face when she turns it. She turns back to Levi with a bright smile on her face.

“I’ll be right back. Can you wait here a sec?” She walks into the room and lets the door slam shut behind her.

Levi can only watch from the little glass pane in the door. He sees Petra walk over to the booth where all the little knobs and buttons are. She leans over and presses a big red one on the side, speaking quite firmly in the mic although he can’t hear a word she’s saying. When she’s finished speaking, she leans back slightly, her fingers tapping impatiently. After a minute or two, a pair of sheepish-looking freshmen shuffle out of the booth. They look surprised when they exit the room and bump into Levi, bowing their heads quickly and mumbling unintelligible apologies before they scamper off.

Petra motions for Levi to enter, her smile a little more tired. She’s running a hand through her hair as Levi slips into the room, shutting the door softly behind him.

“I’ve caught them in here more than a few times,” Petra sighs. She sits at a table at the back of the room, waving Levi over. “You know Eren isn’t even supposed to be here? He’s just part of a radio show and the studios for those are down the hall. Mikasa isn’t even a music student.”

Levi sits down across from her. She’s already pulling out a copy of the papers she had given to him the other day. He notices that there are a few notes in different colors that aren’t on his papers. “Uh, what were they doing?” Levi asks. He’s not sure if he’s actually curious or just trying to make conversation.

“Stupid freshmen couple things,” Petra replies without even blinking. Her eyes are scanning the papers. Levi doesn’t even see her blink once. “Not anything we’ll be doing. We’re strictly here for business and I’m not interested in you that way anyway.”

Levi realizes just what the freshmen were doing and his cheeks color. He’s embarrassed, although he’s not sure why. For a second, he wonders if Petra had ever brought anyone back here for … other reasons other than “business.”

“What’s your vocal range?” Petra asks, eyes flickering up from the papers in her hands. She sifts around in her backpack for a pencil as she waits for Levi’s answer. “I have a general idea of where you might lie, somewhere in the baritone vocal range judging by how deep your speaking voice is. If you don’t know, that’s alright too.”

“It’s … Eb2 to C6,” Levi says hesitantly. He feels strange talking about singing and music to someone who isn’t his manager or part of No Name, but he wouldn’t feel right lying and saying he doesn’t know.

Petra’s voice widens a little bit and she immediately scribbles something down on her paper. “Alright then. That’s … a lot,” she says. She’s writing something in her notes again, modifying a few notes here and there. Her lips purse, but she doesn’t look displeased. “That’s good. Let’s go with what you have so far and go from there. I may or may not want to make changes to this later, so be warned.”

“I thought you would try to have as few recording sessions as possible,” Levi says, “considering you don’t care for me at all.”

“Are you offended?” Petra asks with a smirk. She pushes her chair out and walks over to the minifridge on the counter, taking out a bottle of water which she throws unexpectedly to Levi. He’s so surprised that he nearly drops it. “It’s not like I hate you. I also need you for my project, so I have to care about you a little bit, right?”

“Right … thanks,” Levi says awkwardly. He tosses the cool water bottle from one hand to the other. “Do you want me to …?” He points a finger towards the recording booth.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Petra says with a nod. “Take your notes. You can have mine if you forgot them, but I’d rather have my own copy to write on in case I have changes I’d like to make while listening to you.”

“Er, no, I have mine,” Levi mumbles. He pulls a folder he got just for her papers and walks into the booth. It’s much smaller than the one in his company building, but he can’t complain. At least it’s well padded and has all the necessary equipment: mics, headphones, a music stand.

He slips on the headphones and watches as Petra leans over and presses the button on the side of the dashboard.

“Let me know when you’re ready,” she tells him.

Levi nods and then realizes he’s never been this nervous about singing for someone. He’s not sure he’s ever sang for anyone, actually. Previously, he had just been singing for the sake of it. It was just for fun, his band of friends decided one day, and then exploded into a well-known rock group that held concerts and sold merch and had fans. Somehow, singing a simple song for someone’s final project feels more nerve-wracking, and he’s sung for audiences much larger than a crowd of one before.

“Do you mind if I … do some vocal exercises first?” he asks.

“Go ahead,” Petra replies. She walks away from the dashboard and sits back down at the table from before, going over her notes and looking completely engrossed in them. It makes Levi wonder how many people she’s brought into this studio and how many times she’s been with nervous vocalists.

Levi turns slightly to the side so he can no longer see her in his vision. He sings to the wall, vocal exercises he usually does before shows and vocal exercises he hasn’t done in such a long time. There’s a trilling exercise he used to do when he was just beginning as a vocalist of No Name, one he did all the time before gigs he was nervous about. When he’s finally done calming the beating of his heart, he leans towards the mic.

“I’m ready now,” he tells Petra.

Petra looks up from where she’s sitting and grins. She walks back over to the dashboard and pushes the button. “Great. Let’s start.”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

It’s unofficial No Name hour at the cafe. Nobody had ever requested they play music at the cafe, but people did notice when they started playing No Name. The cafe workers are allowed to play whatever music they want as long as it’s not too explicit, and someone had left their No Name playlist on one evening. It was music that all the baristas (save for Levi, who pretended he had never heard of the band) enjoyed and it was quite popular to customers too judging from the reviews that poured in. Eventually, the baristas took to queuing up a No Name playlist to play every night at 5 PM. Levi doesn’t know if it’s just a coincidence that the cafe seems to get a lot busier at 5 PM.

Everyone has a different preferred order when it comes to their No Name playlist. Eld likes to start with No Name’s softer songs, building up to a large climax until it eventually ends with “XL-TT,” a large operatic song the band had written and recorded just because they could even though it didn’t fall under the type of rock music they typically performed. Auruo liked to start off with a bang. Most of the No Name songs were on the harder, rougher side although he did have a few of the band’s quieter songs on his playlist every now and again. Gunther didn’t seem to have any discernible order to his playlist, the mood of it changing every song or two. He had claimed it was because No Name had so much range that it would be a crime to just stick to one type of feeling when it came to a No Name playlist. As for Petra, she put her No Name playlist in a very specific order. It wasn’t an order that anybody else understood though, but everyone could agree that it was good.

“Petra, you’re into music production,” Levi says.

Neither of them have shifts at the cafe tonight, but Petra decided on working there rather than the studio. It’s good to get away from the studio every now and again, she told Levi.

Petra looks up with an amused smile. “Did you just notice?” she asks.

Levi rolls his eyes. “What about this music appeals to you guys so much?” he asks because he genuinely wants to know. In all of his years in No Name, he still doesn’t know how a trio of friends fucking around with a bunch of band instruments had managed to appeal to the masses. Their manager Erwin had always mentioned things like timing and talent and trends, but Levi could never really understand anything. Most of the time, he just attributes the band’s success to pure luck.

Petra looks at Levi and tilts her head thoughtfully. “The mystery, maybe?” she says. She fiddles with her purple pen, twisting the pen cap on and off as she thinks. “Well, I guess if a band of faceless people came up on stage, it would be enough to catch anyone’s attention but it wouldn’t necessarily mean they were talented. But they are talented. Their drummer, their guitarist, their vocalist …”

Levi tries not to look away when her amber eyes flicker over him. For a moment, he thinks she’s connecting the dots between him and the No Name vocalist. It would be impossible for her not to notice the similarities between him and No Name’s singer. He’s spent far too many hours with Petra in the recording studio for her not to notice, but her eyes quickly scan back to the papers in front of her and she just shrugs.

“I think their music is interesting,” Petra says. She’s back to fiddling with her pen, twisting it back and forth. “They stick mostly with EDM and rock, but they’re not afraid to experiment with things like opera or orchestral elements. The first time I listened to their music, that blew my mind. I listened to their album on repeat for probably a month.”

“You liked it that much?” Levi asks. He can’t imagine listening to the same thing for an entire month. Honestly, hearing his music for an entire hour every day is kind of grating, but nobody else seems to mind.

“What’s not to like about good music?” Petra asks with a smile.

Levi watches as Petra returns to her work, scribbling away at sheet music for another class. Composition, she told him, but she still has a few things she wants to tweak here and there. He’s never really thought about music production as a career, which is ironic considering his side profession. He’s always viewed music as a hobby, and ended up pursuing a computer science and mathematics minor because it just seemed more practical. Hanji went the same route as he did, although choosing to major in chemistry rather than computer science, but Mike ended up in the music department. He never felt the need to ask the drummer why he decided to pursue an education in music, but something about Petra makes him want to ask her everything about her desire to go into music.

“What do you like about music so much that you’d want to be a music producer?” Levi asks her.

Petra doesn’t look up from her sheet music. She’s writing little notes here and there about dynamics and styles. “I think with music … I’d be able to write stories in different styles and genres that I would never otherwise be able to say out loud,” she says. She puts her pen down for a moment and rests her chin on her hand. “Maybe that’s why I feel such a connection to No Name. They perform on stage and make their own music, but a part of them still remains hidden. Music producers are like that, too.”

“Are you afraid of people knowing too much about you through your music?” Levi asks.

She smiles at him lopsidedly. “Maybe … but maybe I just like the mystery,” she laughs.

Out of the two of them, Levi thinks Petra’s the more mysterious one, but he’s undeniably intrigued by her.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

“How are you getting along with Petra? I notice you haven’t been complaining about her recently,” Hanji says one night during band practice. They feign a gasp, their hands flying to their face and their mouth shaped in a perfect O-shape. “Don’t tell me you might actually be … fond of her?”

They’re in the basement of their manager’s house again. It’s much more comfortable practicing there than the stuffy practice rooms provided by their management in the company building. It also reminds them a lot of their old days when they first started as high school students just fucking around in a garage. Erwin’s basement is much nicer, though. It’s a lot like a normal basement except it’s been soundproofed. The band manager also doesn’t mind if friends come to crash occasionally, which explains the sleeping Moblit on the couch. Levi has always wondered how Moblit can sleep through their practice sessions, but he figures spending a whole day with Hanji would really wear someone out.

“Just because I’m not complaining about her doesn’t mean that I like her,” Levi scowls. It’s true that he’s become more fond of the ginger-haired girl in his class, but it’s not something he’s willing to admit out loud. Hanji and Mike are already teasing him enough for going to Petra’s many recording sessions. He would have brushed her off if she were anyone else, but she wasn’t lying when she said she was a perfectionist and her work ethic intrigues him. “I just tolerate her just like I barely tolerate you.”

Hanji’s lower lip sticks out in a pout, but Levi knows that they’ve been friends for too long for Hanji to truly be hurt by his words. As Hanji whimpers and runs to Mike’s side for comfort, Levi can only roll his eyes.

“That’s a shame,” the drummer says as he pets Hanji’s head affectionately. “Petra mentioned you to me. It seems like she’s quite fond of you.”

Levi turns his head so quickly that his neck almost snaps. “She talked about me?” he asks without thinking, and it’s only when he sees the sly smile on Mike’s face that the No Name vocalist realizes he’s been had. He scowls and quickly turns his face, he’s not quick enough to hide the red burning at the tip of his ears.

“She did talk about you a little bit, but just that you had a project together. She says your voice is godly,” Mike says as Hanji giggles at his side. The sound of Hanji’s laughter makes Moblit stir in his sleep. “I could ask her if her opinion of you has gotten better if you’d like.”

“Don’t bother,” Levi snaps, although he very much would like to know what Petra thinks of him now and he doesn’t just want her opinion of his voice. “It really doesn’t matter what she thinks of me anyway. It’s just a class project and we’ll just be coworkers after.”

“Boo!” Hanji calls out from behind Mike. They emerge from behind Mike’s shoulder with a thumb outstretched and pointed downward. They’re still pouting, but it’s for a different reason this time. “Boo! Ask her out!”

“I’m not going to ask her out. There’s no reason to,” Levi says with another roll of his eyes. He gestures for Hanji to take up their guitar again so that they can actually get started with practice. Erwin doesn’t mind if they spend time fooling around, but he does expect them to get some practice done when they have a band session.

“You’re no fun,” Hanij mumbles, but they hop off Mike’s stool and grab their guitar.

Levi is usually good at clearing his head and focusing on the music, but it’s nearly impossible to ignore Hanji and Mike’s eyes on him as they practice. He doesn’t know why the two of them are so interested in his (non-existent) relationship with Petra, but there isn’t any point in being invested when nothing will come of it. It’s not like he can change their minds, though, and it’s apparent that Hanji still thinks he’s making a mistake in not asking Petra out by the way they’re staring daggers at him as they drag their half-asleep boyfriend out of the practice room at the end of the session.

It surprises Levi that Mike is invested at all, but he notices the blond drummer looking at him observantly as he helps clean up the music equipment that Hanji had forgotten to put away. Mike tends not to get involved in anyone’s personal life if he can help it, and Levi has always appreciated that. For some reason, this non-issue of Levi’s interests Mike enough that the drummer is staring at Levi somewhat judgmentally just because Levi won’t take Hanji’s nonsensical advice of asking Petra out.

“I’m not going to ask her out just because Hanji suggested it,” Levi says firmly even though Mike hasn’t said anything. “You know how insane Hanji’s suggestions can get. Remember when they asked Erwin if we could have a waterfall and pyrotechnics on stage at the same time? And a light show like at Disneyland?”

“Incorporating incredibly fanciful stage displays during a performance and asking out a girl you like are two very different things, though,” Mike points out.

“I don’t like her,” Levi insists, but he hates how much he sounds like a teenaged boy in denial of his own crush. He takes a deep breath and says more firmly, “I don’t like her, at least not like that. She’s interesting to work with and she’s a reliable coworker, but I’m not interested in pursuing anything with her.”

Mike shrugs and doesn’t reply. For a moment, Levi thinks that’s the end of the conversation until Mike speaks again. “You know, we called ourselves No Name so that people wouldn’t find out who we were and it gave us some privacy but … it’s okay to let people in every now and again.”

Levi is about to snap back and say that he’s not trying to hide anything and that keeping people at a distance was never his intention, but he bites his tongue. Aside from his family and Erwin, nobody knows that he’s a part of No Name. Mike has his girlfriend Nanaba. Hanji has their other half Moblit. Levi …

He shakes his head. He doesn’t need anyone. He’s been fine without people before and nobody needs to know he’s the vocalist of No Name, not even strange music producing barista that he doesn’t mind singing for.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

“What are you going to do after all this?” Levi asks as Petra listens to the latest recording.

It takes her a while to respond sometimes when she’s working on her music. It’s like she puts the entire world on pause while she listens to one last segment. Levi never really minds. At least it gives him a few more seconds to stare at her while he waits for a response.

“After all what?” Petra asks. She takes her headphones off from one ear so she’s wearing the headset lopsidedly on her head. It’s endearing. She gestures to the recording studio with a pen in her hand. “After the final?”

Levi realizes that it’s stupid to ask. What else is there to do after the final except go on with their lives? Petra will go off to another music class writing music and chasing down vocalists she hardly knows. Levi will sneak around campus for his vocal lessons while moonlighting as No Name’s singer. They’ll both be civil to each other at work as they juggle ridiculously sweet coffee orders mixed topped with whipped cream, chocolate shavings, and a dusting of mocha powder. Everything will be as it should be.

“Just normal stuff, I guess,” Petra says. She doesn’t even do him the kindness of describing all the mundane things she’ll be doing. Then again, it’s probably only something people do between friends. Their relationship is, as Petra described early on, strictly business.

Levi purses his lips. He shouldn’t have asked. There’s a reason why he never bothers to engage in conversations. He’s accidentally made the mistake of trying to start one and he regrets it already.

There’s a tap at the tip of his foot. It’s like a bolt of lightning travels from the tip of his toe and shocks his system. When he looks up at Petra, she looks completely unaffected. She’s still staring down at her paper, scribbling whatever musical nonsense in the margins in words that only make sense to her. For a moment, Levi thinks he imagined the brush of her foot against his, but Petra lifts her head ever so slightly and looks at him.

“What about you?” she asks, and he realizes he must have missed the question the first time. “What are you going to do after we finish this project? Go back to your cute, little computer science department and sneak in here for your vocal lessons when you think nobody’s watching?”

Levi frowns. She knows him a little too well for someone who’s only begun talking to him this quarter. His reluctance to confirm her answer only makes Petra grin wider.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to answer me. We both know I’m right,” she says. She puts her pen down and takes her headphones off completely, putting them around her neck. “You shouldn’t have to sneak around, though. Your voice is wonderful, and it’s not like people will think it’s weird that a computer science major can sing.”

“It’s not that…,” Levi says, but he’s not even sure what the reason is anymore. He used to think it was to preserve his privacy, but it feels more and more like he’s a criminal with the way he’s hiding his identity.

“I’m just teasing you about it. It’s really none of my business what you choose to do,” Petra says. He knows she’s being honest, but he wishes she weren’t. He wants her to be slightly bothered by him, for her to ask him why he’s bothering with computer science when he has a clear musical talent, for her to openly wonder why he always pretends not to hear when No Name starts playing in the cafe. But she doesn’t. “I just stated that the vocalist was anonymous in the credits of my final project, by the way. I thought you would appreciate it.”

It’s not something that they had discussed before, although Levi had intended to bring it up at some point when he had first agreed to contribute to Petra’s project. It just slipped his mind until now. It’s incredibly thoughtful. It only makes Levi want to tell her more.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

“You look awfully down,” Hanji says to Levi as they watch him glare angrily at the cash register as if the machine had done something to offend him.

“I’m working,” Levi growls, still glowering at the cash register in front of him. He has a rule about his bandmates not talking to him when they’re out in public. It’s to prevent people from making any possible connection between them and their alternate personas as No Name, although Hanji has never adhered to the rule since they thought it was overkill.

“Sorry. I didn’t realize that staring daggers at the register could help boost your productivity,” Hanji snorts before going back to their drink. It’s a bright pink beet latte, their regular order. Levi doesn’t know if Hanji actually likes the taste or if the drink just amuses them. After a few more sips, Hanji whispers, “Are you going to ask her?”

“I’m not, so stop bringing it up,” Levi hisses. His eyes flit to where Petra is working in the back whipping up an order for a caramel iced coffee. He glares at Hanji and hopes that it will be enough to shut the talkative guitarist up. Unfortunately, Hanji has known Levi so long that they’ve become immune to his glares.

“No, not out. I know you’re too much of a coward to ask her out. You’ve made that plenty clear,” Hanji says. They continue before Levi can argue. “Just ask her to come to our little gig next week. I know you miss her. You’ve been absolutely miserable since she turned in her final project.”

Levi winces. It’s true that he’s been in a foul mood now that he no longer has an excuse to spend time with Petra, but he hadn’t realized that it was apparent to the people around him too.

It’s not that she cut him off after she had turned it in. It’s just that their time together has diminished significantly. Now that finals are over and people are on break before the next quarter starts, the only time Levi ever sees Petra is during their shifts at Cafe Paradis. Before, he was satisfied with simply seeing the top of her ginger head in the kitchen as she made drinks, but now he misses sitting with her alone in the studio, watching as she nibbled at the end of her pen while thinking of little changes that could propel her composition to perfection.

He’s thought about walking down to the basement of the music building and walking the halls. He’s imagined casually turning his head to look through the windows of each room and, if he saw Petra, popping his head in and mentioning that he had just happened to pass by. Then maybe they would catch up and talk about her latest project: something large and grand with a full orchestra, maybe, and a light and airy soprano to sing out the melody. He’s never stepped further than the first step downstairs, though. She’s always been able to see through him just a little too much, and there’s no doubt that she’d point out the fact that there would be no reason for him to pass through the basement floor when classrooms and practice rooms are upstairs. Even just thinking about how she’d tease him is turning the tips of his ears red.

“Don’t be stupid,” Levi says. He pretends to wipe down the counter even though it’s perfectly clean. He just wants to have a reason to look down so that his coworkers don’t notice the way the tips of his ears are turning a bright red. “I can’t ask her to our gig. She’s going to know something’s wrong when I don’t show up.”

“Well, you could tell her,” Hanji suggests.

“Telling her is off the table,” Levi snaps, his tone coming out harsher than he intended. He runs a hand through his hair tiredly. “Look, anonymity works well for us. We’ve found success without people knowing who we really are, and I don’t want to ruin our private, personal lives by letting someone in.”

Hanji frowns as they stir their glorified beet juice. “It’s not like the world is going to cave in if you tell her. I told Moblit and it worked out well for me, didn’t it?” Hanji points out.

It’s true that Moblit hasn’t let any information leak despite being in the know, but Levi considers him an exception to his “no outsiders allowed” rule when it comes to the band.

“That’s different, though. We’ve all known Moblit forever.”

“Well, what about Nanaba?” Hanji asks, referring to Mike’s girlfriend.

Unlike Moblit, Nanaba hadn’t known everyone in No Name “forever.” In fact, she hadn’t met Mike until freshman year of college. Mike had asked her out a few months after they had known each other because they were in the same percussion class and he thought the way she could memorize rhythms so quickly was “really neat.” Although Levi was initially reluctant to Nanaba’s inclusion, Hanji was all for it and Levi gave in after Mike had gone out with Nanaba for a year. Nanaba turned out to be trustworthy and still hasn’t told anyone that she’s been dating the drummer of No Name.

“We got lucky with Nanaba,” Levi says and Hanji just rolls their eyes.

“Personally, I think having someone to share my secrets with is kind of nice. It takes a weight off your shoulders,” Hanji says. They hold up a hand when Levi starts to open his mouth. “I mean someone other than the rest of us in the band. Our manager doesn’t count.”

Levi scowls.

Hanji sips the rest of the foam off the top of their latte and then hops off their stool. “I’ll see you later, Levi. Let me know if you change your mind about you-know-what. Getting an extra ticket last minute wouldn’t be too hard,” they tell him before strutting out of the cafe with their bright pink latte in hand.

Levi had told himself that he wouldn’t think about it, won’t even entertain the thought of telling Petra anything at all, but his mind keeps wandering to what-ifs. What if he does tell her? Would she be surprised at all or would she just smile and tell him that it all makes sense now: his vocal lessons, his voice, his music courses despite being a computer science major? Would she look at him differently after finding out he’s the vocalist of a popular rock band? Would she swear to keep it a secret or text the first person she could once he was out of sight? The thought of being able to tell someone something so intimate is thrilling but terrifying at the same time.

By the time the end of their shift rolls around, Levi is seriously considering it. He hangs back, taking longer than usual to wipe down the tables and counters. Before Petra can leave with the rest of their coworkers, Levi grabs her arm and pulls her back.

“O-o-oh!” Petra says, startled. Her eyebrows are raised in surprise, but she relaxes when she sees it’s just Levi. The coworkers she usually leaves with, Eld and Auruo, look back, but she waves them away and signals that she’ll catch up with them later. When they’ve left, she looks back at Levi, “You’re a little clingier than I remember.”

Levi feels himself flush and quickly lets go of her arm. She has the decency not to tease him further, but her expression is amused. Before she can say anything else, Levi asks, “I was wondering … what are you doing next week?”

“Next week?” Petra repeats. She looks upwards, thinking. “Well, I guess it depends on the day. Why do you ask?”

Because my band is playing at a bar next week and I want to invite you. You’d like it. It’s No Name. You know, like the band that we play here every day for an hour? The words are right there at the tip of his tongue. All he has to do is spit them out, but something holds him back.

Levi balls his hands into fists and blurts out, “I was just wondering … about your music projects. I was wondering if you were working on anything else.”

“You wanted to collaborate again?” Petra asks, but she says so in a light-hearted manner. She shrugs, fixing the strap of her bag. “I’m tinkering with a few sounds in the studio, but I don’t have anything I’m too crazy about yet. If I have something to work on that needs a good vocalist, I’ll give you a call. If you’re open to it, of course.”

“I … I’ll think about it,” Levi says stupidly even though he knows he wouldn’t hesitate to say yes. Without anything more to say, he’s ready to shuffle lamely away, but Petra’s looking at him strangely, head tilted ever so slightly.

“I really meant it when I said you have a wonderful voice,” Petra says, and he can feel the tips of his ears start to burn again. He’s never going to get used to compliments no matter how often she gives them to him. “You should sing softer, acoustic songs every now and then. It suits you a lot.”

“Th-thanks,” he stammers.

Petra waits for a beat, but it’s clear that Levi isn’t going to say anything more. She smiles kindly at him. “My friends are waiting for me outside. I’ll see you later, Levi,” she says. She gives him a wave before she heads out, jogging out the door to catch up to her friends.

When she’s completely disappeared from view, Levi lets out a sigh. Even though he tells himself that it’s probably better that he wasn’t able to tell her anything, another part of him feels as if he’s missed his chance.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

“I’d tell you not to look so glum, but most people can’t tell your grumpy face apart from your normal one,” Hanji says backstage before their last set. They nudge Levi with their shoulder and give him an encouraging smile. “It’s not like it was your only chance to ask her out. We’re going to have plenty more concerts after this. Maybe you’ll muster up the courage next term.”

“Nothing to muster up courage for. I don’t want to ask her anything,” Levi mumbles before getting up from his stool with a sigh. He takes a swig of water to quench his thirst before going up on stage, fiddling with his earpiece as he takes his spot under the spotlight. He knows he shouldn’t but his eyes scan the audience for a face he knows won’t be there.

He’s hardly paying attention when his other bandmates join him onstage. Hanji announces their next song. It’s something upbeat, something with a lot of pounding bass and drums. It’s not something Levi’s in the mood for, but he sings it as easily as he did in rehearsal. Most of these songs he can sing without thinking because they’ve practiced them so often that the melody comes effortlessly. Usually, it’s a blessing because his mind can go on autopilot but right now it’s a curse because all Levi can think about is how he’s missed his chance.

“Please don’t comfort me,” he tells his friends as soon as they’ve left the stage. “I don’t want your sympathy and I don’t need it.”

“I’ll tell Moblit to bake us a cake tomorrow,” Hanji says as they collect their pay from the bar manager. They inspect the money from the envelope and flip through the bills to make sure everything’s there. “It’s purely to celebrate another successful performance. It’s not to make you feel better about whatever personal problems you’re having at all.”

Levi just scowls in response.

“Can you get us a few drinks from the bar, Levi?” Mike asks.

“Sure. Fine,” Levi grumbles. He knows that Mike is only asking so that Levi has a chance to get away and clear his head. The blond drummer doesn’t have much of a palate for alcohol, but he doest have tactful ways for dealing with Levi when the vocalist is unhappy.

Levi shuffles off, grabbing a black baseball cap that he had left backstage and donning it so that he doesn’t risk the chance of people recognizing him when he walks through the bar.

Levi tries to keep his head down and his gaze on the floor, but he can’t help glancing up every now and again as he tries to make out the faces of the patrons in the bar tonight. He doesn’t know why he does it. Maybe he just likes to set himself up for disappointment. He certainly doesn’t expect to see anyone ginger in the crowd or to make eye contact with an amber gaze, but when he does he immediately walks into the same booth the ginger is sitting and ask oh-so-eloquently, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Petra looks just as surprised to see him here, which doesn’t make any sense because if she’s been here for at least the five minutes she’d have known he was on stage. Checking hurriedly to see if anyone else is paying attention to them, she pulls Levi into the booth next to her. “Um, so I heard you, er, No Name had a gig at this bar tonight and I decided to come because I really like your, er, the band’s music. You, ah, probably know that though since you’ve heard my playlist and listened to me talk about you guys. The band, I mean. You hear me talk about the band all the time.”

It’s clear that Petra already knows the connection between him and No Name, so Levi doesn’t know why she’s pretending she doesn’t.

“Okay, I get it. You know I’m a part of No Name,” Levi says. There’s no use hiding it anymore, so he’ll just be frank with her. “How long have you known? Did you know even before you asked me to help you with your final composition?”

“Ah.” She’s flustered but she tries to answer his answers as promptly as possible. “I didn’t know you were part of No Name the whole time. I just thought you were aloof and had an interest in music. Pretty much everything I said about you being strangely interested in music was the sole reason I asked you to be part of my project, but I didn’t realize who you were until you sang that first note in the studio.”

Levi rubs his face as he recalls that day. He does remember having his back turned to her when he was doing her vocal exercises. When he had turned around, Petra didn’t look at him any differently than she had before. Slowly, he asks, “And you didn’t say anything this whole time?”

“Well, you didn’t seem to want anyone to know, so I didn’t say anything. After all, who am I to keep you from living your best Hannah Montana life? … Oh! Are you okay?” Petra asks, startled when Levi collapses onto the table with his arms covering his face. She places her hand gently on his back, unsure of what to do.

It’s strange knowing that someone other than his bandmates knows his secret … but it’s not unpleasant. In fact, it’s kind of nice. It’s like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders.

Levi looks over at Petra from a crack between his arm and the table. He can see her looking at him worriedly. Maybe it’s as Mike said. Maybe it’s not so bad letting people in and he should stop letting the fear of the unknown from going after what he wants.

After a moment, Levi raises his head and asks, “Do you want to go out with me?”

Petra looks taken aback, but she smiles and says, “Sure.”

#rivetra #petra ral #levi ackerman #college au #band au #asks #answered #anon #anonymous #requests #snk

28 notes · View notes