#I swear the way he was smiling during this entire conversation just had me dying for some reason

[judesmoonbeauty]

Quick Quip from Licht Klein’s Act 2 Ch. 10 - w/Azel

Just a quick quip from chapter 10 summary t/l - not 100%. Idk why, but I can’t help but laugh at Azel and his salesman ways 😝

///denotes alt translation

After waking from a dream about the rose in the rose garden, Emma receives a knock at her door. It’s Azel. It’s the middle of the night and he lets himself into her room.

Emma asks if this is common Tanzanite etiquette. He says it’s not but he doesn’t really care. He is there with an offer. 

Azel gives Emma three packages to choose from - each costing money from her - he’s not helping out the goodness of his heart. 

The lowest option plan is delivery service of a letter he offers one way and round-trip deliveries, but the cost will vary.

The middle plan includes a monitoring service of Licht and his well-being, & the letter delivery service.

The high option plan of Azel his authority to bring Licht back.

Since Emma can’t afford to pay out, she chooses option 3 the most affordable package.

He congratulates her for her choice and offers to bless her letter at an additional service fee………(🙄 oh god.)

Emma thinks that when Azel is silent he really seems like a god, but as soon as he opens his mouth he seems strangely vulgar///mundane.

————

I’m planning to translate summaries of each chapter once I complete his first ending. There is part of this conversation where his veil is slightly lifted imo and it gives me a little reassurance of some theories I have about him. This will be posted later.

[imtryingbuck]

Home

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC!Theo

Summary: Bucky has to marry a woman who surprises him more and more as their story goes along.

Word count: 1,886

Warnings: angst. swearing. fluff. small mention of abuse of a child. mentions of an affair. mentions of dying during child birth.

Masterlist   Series Masterlist

When Bucky got back to the house all he wanted to do was climb into bed with Theo, pull the covers way over their heads and block out the rest of the world surrounding them. Standing in the foyer taking his jacket off he could hear noises coming from the living room and unlike how it was at Michael’s it was laughing.

As drained as he was, a smile formed on his lips at hearing Theo’s laughter.

“Bucky!” Jumping up from her spot on the couch she runs over to him with a huge smile on her face, standing on her tiptoes she presses a kiss to his lips. “I-I hope you don’t mind but Matt came to visit me.”

“Of course I don’t mind pretty girl.” He greets Matt with a nod, his attention mainly on the girl in his arms.

He knew he needed to tell her and Matt about Eliza before they heard it from anyone else but he really didn’t want Theo to be mad at him even though he didn’t pull the trigger. But he knew he needed to do it.

“Pretty girl, I need to tell you something. Matt as well.” Taking Theo’s hand he led her towards the couch she was sitting on before. “Eliza… she’s dead, Michael did it.”

Bucky’s eyes were on her, watching for a reaction - her eyes widened that it was her father that did it. Matt looked surprised but didn’t look all that bothered, he did however lean over and whisper “You’re now free.” In Theo’s ear pressing a kiss to her temple.

“Why did he do it?” Matt asked.

“He found out that she had paid three men to shoot Theo.”

“What? Wait… Dory you were shot? Why didn’t you tell me!”

“It… it didn’t come up, sorry.” She winced rubbing her arm nervously.

Before anyone could say anything Sam started giggling like a little child, a smile pulling at Theo’s lips at hearing his chuckles - as she always did. “I’m sorry, but Dory?”

“Well yeah, Theodora - Dora - Dory…” Matt explained. “It’s not as bad as her name for me.”

“Why what is it?”

“Chew.” Theo beams proudly.

“Why?” Sam couldn’t contain his laugh any longer.

“Because I couldn’t say Matthew when I was young so it was Chew.” It wasn’t necessarily a lie but it wasn’t the whole truth, when she was around five or six she received a beating that left her jaw swollen so therefore she couldn’t talk all that well to Matt - since he was the only one that ever spoke to her nicely. But from that moment he called her Dory and she called him Chew.

Everyone began laughing and soon enough the conversation changed to something else entirely different. Not long after, Sam made everyone take a vote on what food should be ordered - Steve did say Chinese which Theo didn’t mind trying but Sam forced everyone to vote for pizza, threatened them that if they didn’t he would start singing… everyone quickly voted for pizza.

“You know if you blink she won’t disappear, right?”

Bucky nodded, finally dragging his eyes away from Theo as she danced with Wanda both doing the Waltz - terribly mind you but still. “I know.”

“She told me she loves you.”

“And I love her.”

“You know when we were younger, I never understood why they all hated her and I truly believe that my sisters and brother didn’t really know why they had to hate her either.” Matt says as he fiddled with his glass. “What they did, no one deserved to suffer the way she did.” He shakes his head at the memories of watching as Eliza beat Theo, at the memories of finding Theo curled up on a dingy mattress in the basement blood in between her legs.

“I always tried you know, I tried to get them to stop it but that just made it worse. I even took a beating myself once, Theo made it stop by pushing me out of the way.”

“She said that you always tried to protect her.” Bucky tells him, looking him in the eyes he could see it clear as day that Matt still held so much regret.

“I failed her is what I did.” He lets out an un-amused laugh. “I left her there the second I turned seventeen, I moved out and I just left her there.”

“Matt you was a kid yourself alright? You can’t blame yourself or think you failed her.”

“I suppose you’re right but that doesn’t mean I didn’t fail her.” Both men smile when Theo’s laugh hits their ears. “You know it’s been a really long time since I’ve heard that noise.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I think she was eight the last time I heard her laugh and I think it because we were playing and I was putting on different voices for the toys.” It was a bittersweet memory because they were playing happily together until Brandon came in and for no reason just started beating on her, Matt remembers begging him to stop and even tried to pull him away from his baby sister.

“But anyway, I just want to thank you for everything.”

“You don’t need to thank me. Listen if you ever need a job I’ve got one for you, here’s my number.” Once Matt had his number saved in his phone Bucky pats his brother in law on his shoulder before making his way over to Theo.

“Can I talk to you pretty girl?”

“Of course.”

He takes her hand and leads them into his office, but first he grabs something off the side table in the foyer. Sitting them both down on the couch she gives him a smile which makes her dimple dips in.

“I went to your father’s house and we spoke, he gave me this.” He hands over the photo frame to her, she takes it carefully, turning it over, she looks up at him and his heart aches as her head tilts with confusion. “It-it’s your mom, baby.”

“S-she looks like me.”

“She was beautiful.”

“Did-did he tell you her name? I don’t know it.”

“Jessica.”

“Jessica.” She repeats, her eyes going back to the photo. Her right hand lets go of the frame and moves to her cheek feeling the dimple. “We have the same thing.”

“I know, it was the first thing I noticed when I saw it.”

“Did he say” clearing her throat, she looks back up at him quickly before dropping her eyes back to the photo and shakes her head.

“Did he say what pretty girl?”

“Did she love me?” Her words were whispered.

“Baby, she loved you so much. Hey Theo look at me, your mom loved you so so much and I just know that she still loves you.”

“So why did she leave me?”

“She didn’t have a choice baby.”

She jumps up off the couch, shaking her head. “Yeah right! She died when she was giving birth to me!”

“No she didn’t?”

“How do you know? You wasn’t there!”

“Baby.” He stands up and grabs a hold of her arms to stop her from pacing. “Baby, Eliza killed her because she found out about the affair and you, Michael was given a choice to pick either you or your mom and your mom begged him to pick you. She didn’t leave you because she wanted to.”

“So… so I killed her?”

“No! God no baby, baby she died because she was in love with a married man.”

“B-but it’s my fault.”

“No it isn’t, I swear to you it’s not your fault. It’s Michael’s fault for not being faithful to his wife, its Eliza’s fault for pulling the trigger. Not yours my pretty girl.”

“S-s-so she didn’t leave me because she wanted to?”

“No baby.”

Theo collapses into Bucky’s arms as tears pour from her eyes, her whole body shaking as she cries. The photo frame containing the photo of her mom, the first time she had ever seen her mom, gets squashed in between their bodies. From as young as she could remember she was told by Michael and Eliza that her mom had died giving birth to her, she always carried that guilt of killing her own mom but now hearing the truth she didn’t know what was worse. Dying whilst giving birth or being murdered because she loved the wrong man.

“I’m-I’m sorry Bucky.”

“What for angel?”

“For everything.” Pulling away from him and wiping her cheeks she looks down at the photo. “I never got to meet her.”

Bucky knew that she was three months old at the time of her mom’s death so therefore she had met her but being so young of course she wouldn’t have remembered, he didn’t have the heart to tell her the truth but the words slipped out before he could even process it. “You were three months old when it happened.”

“Oh, but I don’t remember, does that make me a bad person?”

“No! No it doesn’t, and you’re not a bad person Theo.” He takes the photo frame from her trembling hands and opens the back. “Michael said that your birth certificate is here.”

And it was. Theo’s finger rubbed over Jessica’s name before folding it back up. “C-can I show Matt my mom?”

“Baby you don’t have to ask. Come on we’ll show him together.”

Hand in hand they leave the office and go back into the living room where everyone was, she gets Matts attention and shows him. His face lights up at finally seeing the person who gave him his baby sister, his thoughts were they looked so similar. Soon enough everyone was surrounding her all praising the beauty of the woman who birthed their friend, a woman that they would never get to meet.

Bucky told Matt that he could stay the night so he wasn’t driving home at the late hour, Theo told Matt that she would make him breakfast if he said yes and who was he to say no to that offer? When showing him to the room he would be sleeping in for the night Theo showed him her studio, Matt never knew that his little sister had such talent - his eyes were full of pride as he took in the paintings, even telling her that he wanted a few.

When they got into their room Bucky took the photo frame from Theo’s hands and neatly placed it on the side table next to a photo of his mom.

“Come on pretty girl, let’s get you into bed.” He tells her when he sees her trying to stifle the yawn that tries to make an appearance.

Climbing into bed after the most exhausting day he had in the longest time, he’s quick to wrap his arms around her, he feels something tickling his chest and when he looks down he sees that Theo grabbed tabby off the bedside table and pushes the bear in between their bodies. She smiles shyly up at him, he presses a kiss to her lips then to her head and pulls her and tabby closer to him.

“I love you.” He whispers softly as her soft snores hits his ears.

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Tags: @sapphirebarnes @bellabarnes1378 @unaxv @skulliecadaver-blog @mrsnikstan @sebastians-love @pattiemac1 @julvrs @undf-stuff @violetwinterwidow01 @cjand10 @angrykitsune01 @drdbnkl2008

[moonlit-jeno]

friends (m.)

pairing: lee jeno x fem reader

genre: explicit sexual content | omegaverse | heat sex | unprotected sex | some name calling

words: 3.6k

don’t like don’t read :)

“Your heat’s coming up.” Jeno says, point blank in between bites of his apple. You just nod, taking a break from your notes to side eye him. It’s not odd for him to know intimate details of your life- you do make sure to keep him updated on your cycle just so that he can send you the notes for the days you miss - but it’s not exactly a common subject for the two of you. “Who are you spending it with?”

There are still 13 powerpoint slides for you to grind through, but you figure a small break won’t hurt. Might as well use the conversation topic for something good, aka a reason to slam your laptop shut. You turn to Jeno, giving your best friend your full attention, and take the iced coffee right out of his hand. He doesn’t protest. “No idea. Would call Jaemin but he’s ‘found the one’ or something, so I’ll probably just spend it by myself.”

“By yourself?” Jeno’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline as if you’ve just admitted to committing a sin. It’s not like the concept isn’t unheard of, there’s a market full of toys to help you through it. “Isn’t that dangerous?” You shrug and take a sip of the coffee, offering him your smoothie in exchange. He takes a sip and then bites down on your straw. His entire face scrunches and he yanks his face away from the beverage. He pulls the straw up, inspecting the now soggy and dented object with disgust. “Fuck, what is this made out of?”

“Paper.” You huff a laugh out through your nose, taking your smoothie back. “And I mean, it’s not any more dangerous than spending your heat with the wrong person. Plus, my heats get kind of… intense.” If Jaemin sleeping for three days straight and limping after is anything to go by, both parties take the short end of the stick. You’d felt so bad after and apologized to him profusely, but he had just thrown you his signature dazzling grin and told you that drowning in pussy was exactly the way he envisioned himself dying. He definitely didn’t complain about the brownies you’d baked him as a ‘thank you’, though.

“Spend your heat with me.” The bold request has your brain malfunctioning, at a loss for where to even start reacting to his statement. You just stare at him, mouth opening and closing repeatedly while he returns the gaze earnestly. “Look, it makes sense, right? I know you better than anyone, and you already trust me. Plus if they’re as intense as I’ve heard they are, you need someone there.”

You frown, opening your laptop up and staring blankly at the screen just to avoid having to look at Jeno. It does make sense to have him there with you, and it’s not like he’s the worst person to have sex with. Plenty of people around campus have delighted in talking about their nights with Jeno, dreamily telling you how lucky you are to have him and falling deaf to your insistence that the two of you aren’t like that. Plus, you’re not blind and even if you’re not the cute couple everyone thinks you are, you can admit that he’s hot.

“Wait, hang on. What do you mean ‘heard’ about? What shit is Na Jaemin saying?” Jeno’s shoulders shake with his laughter at your sudden concern. “I mean, he didn’t say anything, but that was kind of the problem. He didn’t show up to practice for like a week and when he finally did, he looked like he’d been mauled. Coach had to bench him.”

Your heart drops slightly at hearing that Jaemin’s soccer had been affected. He hadn’t told you that. “Oh.” The guilt must show on your face because Jeno is quickly soothing you, making sure to tell you that they all found Jaemin’s state funny. “Okay, wait. Wouldn’t you have the same problem if you help me?”

“It’s off-season. So, what do you say?” Jeno waits for your response expectantly, eyes soft, curious. “You can say no, y/n. I don’t want to pressure you at all, I’m just letting you know that it’s an option.” “I’ll think about it.” And you do. A concerning amount.

You spend that night tossing and turning, trying and failing to shut your brain off. Worries about ruining your friendship and about hurting Jeno bounce around your brain no matter how much you try to stop thinking about it. What if something bad happens during it? What if you never talk again? And worst of all is your brain telling you that he doesn’t actually want you specifically, he just wants to be with an omega in heat. You’re just convenient. 

That thought actually makes you cry and you wrap your blankets even tighter around yourself, sobbing weakly into your pillows. In an effort to distract your wandering mind you grab for your phone, opening instagram to find an influx of dm’s from Jeno. It calms you a bit, the messages ranging from cute dogs to absolutely cursed memes, and you smile softly at the reminder that he’s your best friend, and that he definitely cares about you. Biting your lip, you hesitate for only a few moments before typing out a “you can help”, hitting send before you can second guess it. You lock your phone and set it face down on the dresser, thankfully finding sleep as soon as your head hits the pillow.

It’s hot when you wake up, clothes clinging to your skin uncomfortably. Peeling your shirt off only gives you relief for a moment but then the sticky heat is back full force. You whimper in misery, trying to snuggle back into your bed for at least some comfort, but you find that the corner of your fitted sheet has come up, the rest of your blankets on the floor. There’s only one pillow near you and it’s soaked in sweat. You panic slightly, frantically yanking your sheets back onto the bed and trying to fluff them up as much as possible, only calming down once the bedding has been fixed to your liking. Only once you’ve settled down in the plushness of your blankets do you have a moment of clarity.

“Oh shit.” You shoot up and search for your phone, dropping it once before finally managing to open the correct app. There’s a few messages from Jeno that you don’t bother looking at, going straight for the ‘call’ button. He picks up on the third ring.

“Hello?” He sounds groggy, like he’s just woken up, and a flash of heat runs through you at the low tone. “Why are you calling me at 5 a.m?”

You manage to stop fantasizing about your best friend long enough to choke out the word “Heat.” It comes out pathetic and whiny and you pause to clear your throat, trying to keep a clear head as well. “I’m sorry, my heat came early and I wanted to call you but you can go back to bed, I didn’t realize-”

“Fuck, okay, I’ll be over in 10.” Jeno cuts off your rambling with a swear, some rustling in the background accompanying his words. 

“Thank you.” You whisper, setting the phone down and curling up in bed, trying not to focus on how agonizingly slow the time is passing.

Jeno’s looking down at his shoes when you open the door, kicking idly at the door mat and fidgeting with the bag in his hands, though his head snaps up when he notices you. The smile on his face falters when he inhales, turns a little strained as he gets a taste of your heat, and you honestly give him props for the amount of restraint he has. It’s definitely more than you have, at least, because you’re on him the second he’s inside. He ends up sandwiched between you and the door, bag dangling precariously in one hand while he envelopes you in his strong arms. You don’t (can’t) do anything besides bury your face in his chest and whimper, knowing exactly what you want but being too needy and fuzzy to remedy it.  

“Jeno, it hurts.” You whimper and lift your face to nose along the skin just above the collar of his shirt, finding that while the skin to skin contact helps, it doesn’t fully relieve the heat scorching through you, the dull ache screaming for Jeno to take you already. “Please…” He holds you closer to his chest, encasing you fully in his scent, and picks you up bridal style. “I’ve got you baby, don’t worry.”

Being around Jeno does help to ease your stress, but it also serves to make you needier. The warm scent that you’ve grown to associate with the man is stronger than you’ve ever smelled it and it’s making you lose your mind more and more by the second. You’re worried that you’re drooling by the time he sets you down on your bed. He pauses to drop the bag he’s holding on the floor, and then he’s on top of you, strong arms caging you in.

The first kiss is soft, chaste. It would be cute if you weren’t so fucking needy, but you are and it’s just not enough. Unsatisfied, you thread your fingers through his hair and tug, nipping at his bottom lip and tilting your head to the side to get a deeper angle. A groan rumbles in his chest and he returns the kiss with more intensity, trying to take control again. You don’t let him, even if every instinct in your body is screaming at you to just submit.

Jeno shifts on top of you, scooting so that he can fully lay down between your legs. You wrap your limbs around him on instinct, pulling him as close as you possibly can and- oh. The close proximity means that you feel everything when he grinds down, and the feeling of having him so close to where you need him has any semblance of control that you had draining out of your body. You gasp pitifully, annoyance clawing at you from the amount of fabric blocking you from what you want.

“Please,” You almost sob, tugging at his shirt while trying to grind your lower half against his, the pressure of his cock against your center making your eyes roll. Jeno pulls back to yank his shirt off and then he’s back, hands sliding down your body to your panties, tugging the fabric down as far as he can before he growls in frustration and just rips the fabric in half. 

“Shit, you’re so wet.” Jeno moans in awe, breaking the kiss yet again to marvel at your pussy. “Bet I could just slip right in.” He drags his fingers through the slick on your upper thighs, eyes glued between your legs. You’re just about to complain when he finally presses his fingers into you. The initial relief has you moaning sweetly, though it quickly turns to impatient pleas for his cock. You clench around his fingers, reaching a hand down to palm over where he strains against his sweats.

“I need you to fuck me.” You beg, looking at him with what you hope is a convincing expression. “Please Jen, I need you.” “You have me.” He promises you, flicking his wrist faster, curling his fingers just right. “I’m right here baby.” It’s sweet, and under normal circumstances it would be enough, but right now it’s not what you need and the frustration has you on the brink of tears.

You buck your hips and try to arch up as if it’ll magically make him slip in, but Jeno remains as patient and controlled as ever. It’s too hot and every part of your body is screaming for him to fuck you, for him to claim you, and his refusal is killing you. “Alpha please, I need you.”

He absolutely snarls, pinning down your wriggling body with one hand around your throat. The other hand stays between your legs where it continues to strike pleasure into every single nerve ending you have, adding to the fire already coursing through your veins. “What you need is to take what your Alpha’s giving you. You’re not in charge here, okay?” With his face pressed so close to yours you have no choice but to make direct eye contact, staring straight into the most intense gaze you’ve ever seen. His pupils are blown out so wide that his eyes are almost black. Unable to tear your eyes away and as if in a trance, you find yourself nodding. The corner of his mouth quirks up. “Good girl. Now listen to your Alpha and cum.”

It happens almost instantaneously, as if his words were directly connected to a trigger, your body exploding just as soon as the words leave his mouth. Your entire body locks up, mind going blank as the immense pleasure takes hold of you, leaving you clawing at his back and screaming silently into the air. 

The orgasm only serves to thicken the haze in your mind, clouding any thoughts that aren’t related to the Alpha above you and his cock. It takes a moment for your eyes to finally come back into focus enough to make out your surroundings, and you’re greeted by the sight of Jeno with his fingers in his mouth, sucking your essence off of his digits. You’re burning so hot, so much hotter than you think you’ve been before, and it’s hard for you to function. All you can think about is his cock.

“Please,” You beg, swatting at him weakly. “Alpha please, I need you so bad.”

There’s no way that Jeno isn’t being affected by the pheromones clouding the air, but he manages to appear unbothered, his actions rough but nowhere near as desperate as yours. He just laughs lightly at your begging. “Aww, baby needs me?” The rhetorical question is punctuated by a slap, his hand coming down on your pussy hard enough to draw a yelp from you, thighs closing on his hand in a conflicting attempt to relieve the pressure from the hit and keep his hand on your cunt. He laughs meanly and pulls his hand away, drawing back slightly to spit onto your already soaking pussy, rubbing the spit into your skin while he talks. “This pussy belongs to me, yeah? You’re mine now.” Jeno leans down, mouth at your neck so that he can bite at the skin. “That means that I can do whatever I want with you.” You can’t speak, can’t even begin to think about what you should say in this situation. He presses a kiss to your jaw before pulling back and uses his free hand to turn your head so that you make eye contact with him. “Tell Alpha what you need.” “Need Alpha in me.” You beg, plead, flipping yourself over onto your hands and knees and arching your back, presenting yourself to him. “Need your knot, need you to fill me up, breed me, Alpha please-” Your sentence is cut off by his cock slamming into you, the filthy sound being drowned out by his groan. You gasp in relief, breathy thank you’s leaving you with each powerful thrust he delivers. His cock stretches you out so well, makes you go dizzy with the relief of finally having him in you. Your elbows give out nearly instantly, your chest hitting the mattress, and Jeno takes instant advantage of the new position to pull your hips even higher into the air.

It’s so good- almost too good- and it leaves you drooling and clawing at the sheets. All you can focus on is how well he’s fucking you, how he’s going to fill you up so well, breed you like he was meant to. 

You scream when he pulls out, alarm bells going off as your body instantly protests. It only lasts a second though, Jeno’s hands never leaving your body as he flips you onto your back. 

“Couldn’t see you,” Jeno pants out, dropping a kiss to the corner of your mouth and pushing back in, returning back to the brutal rhythm he had before. It has your eyes rolling in your head at how fucking good he feels. “My pretty baby, taking everything I give her.” 

He’s got you so fucked out that you don’t even realize your tongue is hanging out of your mouth until he pinches it between his thumb and index finger, pulling it out even more. “You love my cock, hmm? You love everything I give you.” The pad of his thumb rubs over your tongue, the sensation making your toes curl and tears slide down your cheeks. “Such a fucking needy omega, isn’t that right?” He tugs on your tongue, your head following his actions as he leads you into nodding.

Jeno laughs and lets go of your tongue, dropping his face down to kiss at your neck. He sucks mark after mark into your skin, licking over each one to soothe it after, until he finally gets to your most sensitive, vulnerable spot. Even just the feeling of him close to your mating mark has your entire body aching for it, your neck craning to the side and pushing into his touch. The leverage you get from your legs wrapped around his waist has him pushing even deeper into you and you can feel his knot at your entrance, not quite fully swollen but definitely getting there. It has you absolutely keening, the thought of being so totally owned making you desperate.The sweet drag of his cock along your walls paired with the absolute filth he’s spewing has your body locking up with no warning, your orgasm ripping through you. You arch off the bed, the action only pushing you further onto his cock.

“God y/n, fuck!” Jeno curses, slamming his hips into you with even more force, his knot popping into your entrance and forcing the neediest sound you’ve ever made to leave your lips. You desperately wrap your limbs around him, trying to get him even closer, digging your heels into his ass to push him further inside. He grinds his hips against you one, two, three more times before he shudders, teeth clamping down right on your sweet spot as he comes. Jeno seems to come forever, filling you up with delicious warmth, making your body purr in satisfaction. He finally comes down, having the clarity of mind to tip the two of you onto your sides so that he doesn’t crush you when he collapses. He still tugs you close, arm thrown around your body possessively, his chin resting atop of your head.

“Told you it was intense.” You laugh out, trying to break the silence in the room. The heat’s subsided for now, but you’re still barely in your mind, and you have no idea how long the break will last. 

He huffs out a laugh, chest shaking against you. “I understand Jaemin now.” His hand pets over your back, sliding up to the back of your neck and scratching lightly at the skin there. “You alright?” “Mhmm, yeah. Perfect.” His fingertips press lightly against the mating mark, sending sparks shooting down your spine, and it has your head spinning. You try to adjust yourself against him in an effort to keep your cool, but moving has his cock shifting inside of you and you sleepily grind against him, not thinking. Jeno hisses and tightens his grip on you to keep you still, but the way he grabs your leg has him shifting inside of you and pressing against all the right places. Heat floods through you and your grinding turns more urgent. 

“Ohgod,” You moan, finding enough strength to push Jeno flat on his back. Your body has a mind of its own and you find yourself bouncing desperately on his cock. His knot has you locked into place and you’re barely able to move, but you can still swirl and grind your hips against him, feel the delicious friction of his knot against your entrance. “Alpha, it feels so good.”

“Fuck, look at you. So fucking knotdrunk, hmm? Can’t get enough.” Jeno shakes his head, laughs in a way that’s meant to mock you but it comes out strained. His hands are heavy on your ass, squeezing and slapping to feel the way it jiggles, to feel the way you clench around him with every hit. You throw your head back and let him do as he pleases, losing yourself entirely in how full you feel, in how good his knot feels in you. He buries his face into your chest, moving one hand from your ass to play with your tits, his mouth wasting no time in marking the delicate skin up. 

“Shit baby, gonna make me cum again.” His lips seal over your mating mark again in a sloppy kiss and that’s exactly the final push that you need, your eyes rolling back and your tongue lolling out as your cunt spasms around him, orgasm ripping through you almost painfully. Jeno groans as well, hand flying to your back to pull you as close as possible, and his knot pulses inside of you as you swear you feel more cum shoot out.

He shudders against you, tight grip finally relaxing, though he still keeps you anchored to his chest. You follow suit, collapsing against him. A tired moan leaves you and you let yourself relax, lips absentmindedly mouthing at his skin. His hand pets your back soothingly, touch heavy and sluggish, and the last thing you feel before you fall asleep is his lips on your forehead.

[strangelysamantha]

Hi! Can I request a jj x reader where they’re dating but have a massive fight right before a kegger so they’re ignoring each other all night. And then during the party her drink gets spiked and jj and the others take her home and look after her. Then the next morning jj is crying and apologising for not looking out for her. Thanks

scared for you ☆

jj maybank x reader.

warnings: swearing, underage drinking, spiking of drinks, blacking out, verbal arguments.

words: 2,649.

summary: when a fight breaks out between you and jj, he can’t help but be petty and ignore you. this causes you to be left alone at a kegger.

request? yes, and my requests are still open!

a/n: hi hi hi, more stories coming tonight! thanks for the request, and if you enjoyed please like and comment! i appreciate it. they/them pronouns are used for the reader. <3

my masterlist

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“jj, why are you so upset?” you questioned jj, and he hesitated, before finally speaking up. “really? why am i upset?” you nod, waiting for his response, but he doesn’t continue. you roll your eyes, “yes. why are you so upset?” you continue tying your shoes, preparing yourself for the kegger that already started thirty minutes ago. “i wasn’t that upset, but the fact you don’t even know why i’m mad just annoys me more.” he looks away from you, avoiding eye contact. you look up at him. “are you serious? you can’t just tell me what i did?” he stays silent.

you finally stand up, standing in front of him. his eyes look down at you, “i’m upset because you blew me off, claiming you had a family issue.” you frown. “j, i did have a family issue.” he shakes his head as if to say he didn’t believe you. “you really don’t trust or believe me?” he shrugs. “no i don’t fucking trust you, especially after all the shit you’ve done.”

“are you fucking kidding me? it really was a family issue. i should be the one upset here since you don’t even believe me.” he crosses his arms together. “you believe you should be the one upset?” he questions. you scoff, “yes! you don’t believe me, and you are blowing this whole situation up.” you try to continue but he interrupts you, “i’m not blowing anything up, stop acting like this is all on me. god, you are the one being secretive and shit.” you frown, “instead of automatically getting angry, why don’t you talk to me about it?” he shakes his head. jj storms off not answering you, the door slamming shut behind him.

you sit in silence, trying to even understand what had just happened since it all happened so fast. you contemplate going to the kegger alone, finally deciding to go. you assumed that jj would be going, and you thought it would be best to try and go so you could fix what just happened as soon as possible.

jj had left you, and he took the car. luckily, the beach wasn’t too far, and you could easily walk. you walked for about five minutes before you arrived. you eagerly search around, trying to find any familiar faces but you fall short. you didn’t recognize anyone around you. you approach the party closer, having people occasionally greet you, but none you were genuinely close too.

you see jj hanging out with john b and pope. you smile softly, glad that he was here instead of doing something reckless. you look over at him, and he looks at you, before immediately redirecting his eyes. jj had made a vow to himself that he would ignore you tonight. he didn’t want to blow up on you, but the biggest reason was he just didn’t want to talk to you anymore. you frown at the realization. since jj was ignoring you, you decided to do the same. you walk towards a small group of people, randomly introducing yourself.

they applaud you on your boldness, immediately letting you inside their small group. “so what are you up to?” a guy with brunette hair smirked at you. you smile, “i’m just here.” you shrug, not entirely sure what you were actually doing at a kegger, practically alone. usually if you went somewhere where you had no one to hang out with, you would leave. today was different though. you avoided looking at jj, and jj did the same. his eyes never even looked your way, too focused on john b’s lame attempts of trying to flirt with sarah.

the group you settled yourself into was slowly dying down. one girl in particular decided she had enough and headed home, her girlfriend going with her. the other two guys left, going farther down the beach to play football. that left you alone with the brunette guy, and his best friend. you hadn’t drank anything, not wanting to have a horrible hangover.

“are you sure you don’t want us to get you a drink? i mean, it would seriously loosen you up, and you could possibly get your mind off your current issues.” the brunette smiled, you had actually become his acquaintance. you bite your lip slightly, thinking. “i mean sure. why not.” you laugh slightly and he chuckles, “right on. i’ll be back.” you nod, watching him walk away.

his other friend smiled down at you, “are you from around here?” you nod. “yeah, what about you?” he smiles, “just here for a trip. we are actually heading back home tomorrow morning.” you frown. “ah, that sucks. did you enjoy your time here?” you ask, making conversation. he nods. “pretty fun town. the water was the best part. the ocean view was always so beautiful.” you nod at his response, silence falling over the two of you.

his friend came back, three solo cups in his hand. “cheers, to your guys on the last day.” you take the red solo, clinging it with theirs. “cheers.” they say together. you bring the drink to your lips, swallowing it. “it was so-.” your mind became clouded, and you couldn’t even think about what you were trying to say. “guys?” your eyes widened as your voice felt hoarse. your mind felt empty, and confusion washed over you. before you knew it, your eyes were closing, and your body began to feel limp and light. the last thing you heard were the two boys laughing. “too easy.”

the boys held you up, grabbing you by the waist. whispering amongst themselves while they carried you to their car. before they even made it halfway, john b stopped them. “what are you two doing?” he stared at you, limp in his arms. his heart hurt seeing you like this. he stared as they stood in front of him, silent. pope joined john b, “what is going on?” popes eyes set on you, anger boiling inside of him. “oh you know man, just had too much to drink.” john b shakes his head. “no. we know them. they hardly ever drink.” the boys raise their eyebrows, “is that so?” john b nods, walking towards them. “who even are you? never seen you before. and since i don’t know you, that leads me to believe that they don’t know you either.” the boys glanced at each other for a moment. “your right. we don’t know them.” they swiftly push you into john b, john b falling back at the sudden movement.

the culprits ran towards their car, hopping in and driving off. john b held you up, pope joining in, making it easier to lift you. john b looked at pope, pope already thinking the same thing. “how the hell are we going to tell jj?” pope shook his head. “let’s just get them back to your house. then we can think of ways to break the news to jj.” john b nodded in agreement. john b and pope carried you to the twinkie, pope getting in the front seat, john b held you close to make sure you still had a pulse and they hadn’t done anything yet. “they are knocked out for sure.” john b spoke up.

“it’ll be a few hours before they even have a chance of waking up.” john b frowns, he just wanted you to wake up now so he knew you were actually okay. once pope had made it to john b’s house, the two of them carried you inside, placing you on jj’s bed. you laid limp on the bed, the two boys watching you in horror. “shit! reposition them! that looks so uncomfortable!” pope scrambled to the bed, immediately straightening you out. he took your shoes off, placing them at the end of the bed. pope took the blankets, tucking you inside the bed.

“are you ready pope?” john b looked at pope, seeing his eyes widened. “what do you mean, are you ready pope?! i’m not calling jj!” pope glanced at john b, bewildered. john b rolled his eyes. “fine but i’m putting it on speaker.” pope nods, patiently waiting for john b to grab his phone.

john b dials jj’s number. it rings twice before jj answers. “yo john b! what’s up.” john b frowns. “jj, you know how you left the party?” pope sighs while he watches this whole situation unravel. “yeah, i wanted to get out of there. i couldn’t stand watching everything, well y'know.” jj laughed, “so glad i left though. i’m doing good.” pope interrupted him. “john b! just tell him already.” jj stopped, “pope? tell me what?” jj held his breath, waiting. his mind was spiraling with every bad thing that could have happened.

“uhm. jj it’s bad. pope and i, we were at the beach. we noticed these two boys… and they drugged-.” before john b could even say your name, jj cut him off. “no.” pope rolled his eyes, seeing jj immediately shut john b down. “no, guys. this isn’t funny. you can’t say this shit as an attempt for me to come home.” john b groaned, slamming his hand on the kitchen table. “jj! will you stop with the shit! this isn’t a joke bro. that would be fucked up.” jjs breath gets caught in his own throat. “you mean…?” john b frowns, “yeah.” jj immediately hangs up, getting ready to go to john b’s house.

when jj arrives, john b and pope give him the rundown on what had happened. they decided to wait to invite kiara, since she had to work. jj slowly walked to his room, scared of what he would see. when he saw you, passed out on his bed, his heart shriveled up. water glistened in his eyes. he couldn’t help but blame himself. he wasn’t there for you. he didn’t protect and watch after you.

he immediately leaves the room, pulling pope and john b into a hug. “thank you. thank you for protecting them when i couldn’t.” john b frowned. “jj- you can’t put this on yourself.” pope nodded. “how could you have known?” jj shakes his head. “i should have been there, i should have stayed.” john b smacks him on the side of his head. “get your shit together jj.” jjs mouth opens in shock. “this isn’t the time for you to spiral. you need to go in there. wait for them to wake up, and you need to make sure they are okay.” jj nods, heading to his room.

jj hated seeing you like this. he sat on a chair in the corner of his room. occasionally checking your pulse to make sure you were still with him. he prepared you water, and was already thinking of what he should make you for breakfast. at around four am, jj had fallen asleep. he didn’t mean to, in fact he wanted to stay awake so he could be there for you when you woke up.

jj woke up at seven am, he immediately looked over at you, seeing you in the same position, and still asleep. his heart hurt. john b and pope weren’t there to ground him, so his thoughts took over. how could he leave you alone? how could he even let this happen? why was he fighting with you in the first place? was it really worth it? these questions continued to invade his mind. he couldn’t hold back the tears as he was silently sobbing in the corner of the room.

the outer banks sun was shining through jj’s thin window curtains. you stirred, waking up. when you were fully awake, you heard faint crying. this caused you to turn your head to see what was going on. “jj?” you frown, seeing him in such a distressed state. you immediately sit up, and become light headed. you didn’t know exactly what had happened. the last place you remembered you had been was at the beach, but somehow you woke up in jj’s bed. you smile, hopeful that jj wasn’t mad at you anymore.

“jj?” you say once more, louder so he could hear you. his head turns towards you. his face was stained with tears, his hair wild as you assumed he ran his hands through it multiple times. before you could ask any questions, he’s already bombarding you. “are you okay? do you remember anything?” you shake your head, your mind going back to last night. “the last thing i remember is going to a kegger, and meeting a group of people because you were ignoring me.”

he stayed silent. he was right. he was the reason, he- “jj? what’s on your mind? was it your dad again?” you frown. your arm reaches out to cup his face. he pulls you into a hug. “no. not my dad. last night… uh.” he pulled away, giving you some space. “last night you were drugged.” your eyes widened. “what?” the tears began to fall from his eyes once again. “look. i’m so sorry. i should have been there for you. i could have prevented this. i’m so sorry. i didn’t want this to happen to you. if only i had stayed, if i was there i would have punched those two guys in the jaw.” his eyes shut, you take your hand to wipe away his tears.

“jj. it’s okay. nothing happened to me, did it?” you wait, slightly scared at what his response would be. “no. nothing happened, john b and pope saved you in time.” you nod, relieved. “jj. i’m okay. nothing happened to me, please. john b and pope saved me. it's not something you should work yourself up about.” he slowly nods, not entirely agreeing. you open your arms, hugging him. “okay. i was really scared for you.” you frown at his words. “jj-,” he cuts you off. “i just… i can’t stop thinking about what would have happened if john b and pope weren’t there.” you shake your head. “you can’t think about that. jj, im here. i'm fine, we are okay. we shouldn’t think about the past, it’ll only make matters worse.”

he listens, a frown still hung on his lips. “okay. well i want to make you a special breakfast!” your eyebrows lift at jj, “you?” he smiles, and you continue. “you want to make breakfast?” he nods, “yes!” you stare at him, “okay. sure.” you get entirely out of bed, his hand immediately finding your waist to ensure you were steady. “first let's get you changed.” he pulls a t-shirt of his from his closet, and a pair of shorts you’ve left over. he hands you the clothes before turning around to let you change.

you put the outfit on, handing him your outfit from yesterday. he puts them in the dirty laundry hamper, walking you to the kitchen. you watch amused, seeing jj pull out a bunch of different ingredients and spices. “what are you trying to make?” he turns around, shocked that you even have to ask him. “duh, i’m making us pancakes.” he smiles up at you, as he holds the carton of milk. “oh right. okay. i’ll let you do that then.” john b walks out of his room, joining the two of you in the kitchen.

“why are you guys so loud when it’s literally eight in the morning?” you laugh, “hey!” you call out to him and he jumps at your loud voice. “what?” you stand up, pulling him into a hug. “thank you.” he smiles. “i’m glad you are okay. we are always going to be by your side, regardless if we are all fighting or not.” you nod. your attention from john b shifts to jj, seeing him as he is dancing around the kitchen with a bowl in his hand. “oh. jj is cooking?” john b smiled, “this will be good.” you nod in agreement, “definitely.”

[samstrugglingwithlife]

You Make Him Blush

Genre: Fluff

Characters: Oikawa, Kuroo and Akaashi

Warning: Swearing, sorry

A/N: Ya girl is finally posting. I mean it’s 5 am right now but hey! I did it. V, proud of myself (I should sleep but no). I hope you enjoy it. (It’s not edited, I skimmed over it but I may have missed some mistakes, so sorry about that!!)

OIKAWA

This fucker likes to play games with you. He makes you blush all the goddamn motherfucking time. He'll wink at you before making a killer serve, lift his shirt just enough during practice that you'd see his toned abs, he'll whisper ungodly shit in your ears when you're out in public. And honestly, you're super tired of feeling your cheeks heat up every time this guy so much as breathes in your direction.  

In the start of your relationship when the two of you were still a new couple you had witnessed him blush, but it was a mild flush out of nervousness. You always felt that you never made him as flustered as he made you.

So there you were, on a Saturday evening whining to your best friend that your boyfriend doesn't get nervous around you anymore and that the spark in your relationship was dwindling.

"I don't think that it's getting mundane, your relationship," your BFF started. "He's hella whipped for you, makes me gag."

"Then? How can he make me blush, but I can't even make him mildly flustered?" you asked, your shoulders slumping in a defeated manner. "Why do you even care about that?" 

You stare at your friend, "Because, he does it all the time! I wanna do it too! I wanna see him flustered!" you whine. "I wanna make him speechless!"

 "Oh so it's a game?" your friend asks you blankly. "Listen either help me or don't judge me."

That conversation was a week ago. Today was a rare date where you and Tooru would go out rather than him practising his serves in the gym and you watching him and feeding him snacks in between.

He waited for you outside your house. You paced in your room, checking yourself in the mirror anxiously. Was it too much? Will he laugh at you? Do you look stupid? A million thoughts were rushing through your head as you looked at your appearance in the mirror. With a nervous groan, you exit your room and make your way to the front door.

As soon as he hears the front door open, he turns around with a wide grin, "Finally! What took-" he is stunned as he lays his eyes on you, "you... so long..." his words dying in his throat.

You blink in shock as you witness a deep flush spreading across his cheeks. Your face also felt hot but with embarrassment. "Th-this wasn't a good idea!" you stutter. "I'm gonna go change!" you turn to leave, but you are yanked backwards by your wrist, falling against Tooru's strong chest. "You look great," he mumbles into your shoulder. "So so beautiful..."

You were surprised, you had no idea that wearing his turquoise jersey tucked into your jeans would have this much impact on your boyfriend.

The whole time during your date, Tooru kept stealing glances at you, and every time your eyes would meet, a dark blush would appear across his face. You wanted to grin and say that it serves him right! That it was your revenge. But you couldn't say a single word, your face equally as red as his.

Because the thing is, you never realised that a blushing, flustered Tooru was absolutely way too fucking adorable. 

KUROO

It's not that you never made him flustered or nervous. You were an absolute beauty, and everything you did was enough to bring him to his knees, but he hid it well. He'd hide it behind a facade of a confident tease; when that wouldn't work, he'd strategically turn his face away from you until the redness left his cheeks.

You were under the impression that he was way too suave and that you did not have that sort of power over him. Oooh! And boy, were you wrong!

It happened right before the match between Nekoma and Nohebi. You were hanging out with the team before they went out into the court and you went to the spectator's area. 

Kuroo's team bumped into the opposing team, and obviously, your boyfriend had to shit-talk the other team. You stood to the side rolling your eyes.

Your boyfriend took another jab at Daishou regarding his ex-girlfriend. Irked, the other team's captain attempted to tease him back by saying that Kuroo doesn't even have a girlfriend.

You raised your brow, stepped forward and looped your arm around your boyfriend's and smiled sweetly at Daishou, "Now, now. I'm very offended that you think that I don't exist."

Kuroo smirked as the other guy sputtered an apology towards you. You accepted his sorry. 

You realised that it was soon going to be time for you to find a seat, so you leaned up and placed a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips. You could literally see his head exploding as a deep red blush appeared on his face. 

You almost didn't hear both teams sputtering because your eyes were blinking at your boyfriend's current state.

Yaku and Kai dragged the Nekoma team away, while Nohebi left on their own, Daishou giving Kuroo a hateful glare as he left.

As soon as it was just the two of you, he buried his face in the crook between your neck and shoulder. His knees began to feel weak. He groaned, his voice muffled by your skin.

"Tetsu, are you okay?" you asked, confused. He only shook his head still buried in your neck. "I look so lame right now..." he mumbled into your skin. He felt the vibrations on your throat as you laughed and stroked his hair. "What? You think I think you're lame because you stopped functioning because of a simple kiss?" he nodded again. This caused you to laugh loudly this time.

He pulled back and glared at you weakly, his face still flushed red. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he asked. You smiled and flicked his forehead, "Go out there and win, cool guy," you grin. He pouted but left after placing a quick kiss to your forehead, ready for his team to hoot for him teasingly.

As soon as he was out of sight, you placed a hand over your beating heart in your chest and took a deep breath. Did he have any clue what he does to you?

AKAASHI

Right. So I headcanon that this guy is not that difficult to fluster but he, just like Kuroo, tries his best to hide it afraid you'd think that he is unattractive.

It's a difficult task to control his face from getting red because everything you do is so cute he can't help it. One time he had to physically remove himself from your presence before you could see his neck turning red.

This one-time Bokuto found him in the storage room, face buried between all the volleyballs in the basket. He has never been more scared in his life than seeing his teammate, who is the epitome of calm, losing his shit because his S/O decided to be cute that day. 

You weren't unaware of the effect you had on him but you knew that he was embarrassed, whatever his reason was, so you never intentionally did anything that would fluster him.

So imagine your surprise when you suddenly come face to face with a new side of him.

The two of you were hanging out in a cafe, you guys were on a study date. Keiji was immersed in his textbook, his hand holding yours across the table. You noticed that his lips were slightly chapped, thinking that they would hurt if his skin stretches, you call out to him, "Keiji." He looks up from his book at you, "Hmm?" he hums.

Without thinking, you swipe your thumb across your lower lip, gathering up the gloss and then proceed to wipe it on his lips. He couldn't even get up and hide, his entire face flushes a deep red. He buries his face in his folded arms on the table with a loud thud. "K-Keiji?!" you call out startled. "Are you okay?"

"J-just give me a minute, I need to calm down," he says, face still buried in his arms. "Okay?" you sit back, confused, taking a sip from your drink.

After a while, he slowly looks up, his face still slightly flushed. "You good?" you ask. He nods weakly. "Sorry..." he apologises. "You must think I look stupid."

You wrinkle your brows in confusion, "What?"

"I mean, I probably look dumb with my face all red and ugly..."

"Keiji," you begin calmly. "You have this effect on me all the time, do you think I look stupid?" you ask.

"No!" he says quickly. "I think you look adorable."

You smile, "There you go! What makes you think that I don't think that you don’t look adorable?" He looks away, unable to answer. "Sweety, you need to stop overthinking about things like that. I love you no matter what."

He smiles weakly and laces his fingers with your fingers. He didn't say anything after that, but you could feel him relax. He felt giddy in his heart, you said you loved him. He didn't tell you yet but he will soon, in a way you deserve to hear it.

[storiesforallfandoms]

finishing ~ rook

word count: 1544

request?: yes!

atjafshelby “Hey love, I was wondering if you could do a Rook smut where y’all are like going at it hardcore😂 and Colson walks in and is kinda stunned but Rook doesn’t care because he’s so close and so are you so he just keeps pounding into you? And Colsons like wtffff you kinky bastards😂 if not it’s totally fine, there’s just like no Rook imagines on here, thanks love, and no rush!!❤️❤️”

description: very little could ever bring rook out of the moment during sex, not even his best friend walking in on him and his girl

pairing: rook x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut

masterlist (one, two)

Rook was dying to just rip your clothes off the entire night. You were all dressed up in a beautiful gown that Colson’s stylist, Ash, had picked out for you, to join the guys on the red carpet for an award show. It wasn’t a revealing dress or anything, but you just looked so beautiful that all Rook wanted to do was sneak away to the nearest private room at the afterparty and fuck you till you couldn’t walk anymore.

Unfortunately for him, every time he tried someone else would try to come talk to one of you. The one time he did manage to pull you away from the crowd, someone had caught you two looking for a closet or something and you had to lie and say you were looking for the bathroom.

As the night began to calm down, Rook saw his opportunity. Most of the people attending were either gone home, or so drunk they weren’t really paying attention to much. Rook took this opportunity to find you and try again for that quickie.

“Hey babe,” he said, grabbing your attention from the person you were talking to. “Is it okay if I steal you away for a second?”

Your conversation mate was already moving on to someone else, so you just shrugged in response. Rook took your hand in his, lacing his fingers through yours and pulling you away from the main room of the party. Knowing exactly what was going to happen, you felt your heart racing with excitement.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to find an empty bathroom. Before even opening the door, Rook attached his lips to yours and kissed you deeply. One hand was wrapped around the doorknob while the other was gripping your ass. You gasped against his lips as he gave your ass a squeeze and then a slight smack, which gave him the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

The two of you basically fell into the bathroom as Rook opened it. He pushed you against the door and started kissing your neck while trailing his hands up your dress.

“God, I’ve been waiting all night for this,” he breathed.

He began pushing your dress up around your thighs before slipping a finger under the waistline of your panties. You moaned as he began to rub your already soaking core, arching your back to try and give him more access to you.

“You’re already so wet for me baby,” he said. “Fuck, I can’t wait long.”

He spun you around to face the sink and bent you over, your arms bracing on the cool, white tile. You heard him unbuckle his pants and slide them down his legs. With your dress still pushed up, you felt Rook pull your thin panties aside and slip himself into you. You moaned with pleasure as he began to thrusting almost immediately.

You weren’t sure if you should keep quiet or not. The building was almost empty, but you knew Rook’s friends were still wandering around out there. There was a chance one of them could go looking for Rook and walk in on the two of you, but there was also a higher chance that they’d just send Rook a text to let him known they had left.

Rook was much less concerned about the volume. He was already thrusting ruthlessly into you, the sound of your skin loudly colliding and his grunts and groans filling the room. You had tried to hold them in, but it was no use. You were practically a moaning, screaming mess within moments.

When your eyes weren’t rolling back in pleasure, you caught glimpses of Rook in the bathroom window. His bottom lip and pulled between his teeth, and his sole attention was on watching himself slide in and out of you. He was so focused, so lost in the feeling of your warm, wet walls around him. It was so hot that you were nearly cumming just at the sight of it.

Neither of you heard someone coming down the hall, or the sound of someone knocking at the door. It wasn’t until the doorknob turned and you saw the door crack open that you realized someone was in the area - and that Rook hadn’t locked the door.

Colson’s familiar messy blonde head popped into the room. You let out a shocked shriek, trying to pull away from Rook so you could pull your dress down.

Colson quickly covered his eyes. “Fuck! Don’t y’all know how to lock a fucking door?!”

You had expected Rook to stop as well, but to your shock he was still buried deep inside of you. You wanted to pull away, to try and snap him out of his lustful daze to remind him that his best friend had just caught the two of you fucking. But you couldn’t help but moan as he grabbed your throat and pulled you so your chest was against his back.

Luckily, Colson quickly ducked out of the room again when it became evident that you two weren’t going to stop. Shortly after, Rook reached down to start rubbing your clit so quickly that you were having trouble staying stood up. You felt him twitch inside of you and knew he was nearly finished. With one last thrust that left him buried deep inside of you, Rook groaned and you screamed in pleasure as you both hit your climaxes at the same time.

You were basically seeing stars. Your head was nearly spinning from the pleasure. Rook rested his head on your shoulder, softly kissing whatever skin on your neck he could reach as he finally came down from his high. You eventually had to separate as it was becoming hard to stand up.

“Did you not realize Colson walked in on us?” you asked as you pulled yourself up to sit on the counter.

“I realized,” Rook responded. “At the time I was just so in the zone I didn’t want to stop. Now that I’ve finally cleared my head, I’m very embarrassed.”

You giggled. “Me too. I’m almost afraid to go face him.”

“You think he’s told the guys about what he saw?”

You cringed. “God, I hope not. The last thing either of us needs is them teasing us for having a quickie in the bathroom.”

“Maybe if we’re lucky they’ll be gone back to the hotel already.”

You sighed, silently hoping for the best.

Rook helped you down off the counter, making sure your footing was steady before the two of you exited the bathroom. The first good sign was that Colson hadn’t lingered after your embarrassing moment. You had hoped that meant maybe he just decided to leave all together.

The party was basically over with very few stragglers left, which made you feel even more embarrassed. Now you just wished you and Rook could’ve waited long enough to go back to the hotel room to have your intimate moment.

When the two of you exited the building, you found Colson waiting by the door with a joint raised to his lips, taking a few puffs. Rook reached for it, trying to act as normal as possible after what Colson had just witnessed in the bathroom.

“The others gone?” Rook asked as he took a puff from the joint.

“Yeah, I sent them back to the hotel,” Colson responded. “Told them I’d wait for you guys so I could make sure you got back alright, too.”

“Neither one of us are that drunk man,” Rook said. “But thanks for the concern man.”

“Yeah, I wish I hadn’t been concerned now.”

You felt your face heat up with embarrassment at Colson’s words. Rook merely chuckled, trying to play it off.

“Look man, I’m sorry. But have you seen my girl? She’s drop dead gorgeous.” Rook looped his arm around your waist and pulled you close for good measure. You smiled at him as he kissed your cheek.

“I can’t deny (Y/N)’s beauty, in a respectful way of course, but did you guys have to fuck in the fancy ass bathroom of this after party?” Colson question. “And did you have to keep fucking while I was still there? That shit is burned in my corneas forever now, man.”

“I was in the zone dude. Nothing was gonna break that.”

Colson let out a loud laugh, puffs of smoke billowing from his mouth as he did so. “You kinking fucking bastard!”

You hid your face in Rook’s shoulder as someone stood nearby turned to give the three of you a puzzled look. Rook chuckled as well and told Colson he was going to get a cab for the three of you. Before he walked away, he leaned in as if he were going to kiss you again, only to lower his voice to a whisper.

“Round two the moment I have you to myself in the hotel room.”

Your still aching core became wet again at his words. Knowing what the reaction would be, Rook smirked at you as he left you with Colson to go find you three a cab.

The next few minutes are going to be so painfully slow, you thought to yourself.

[anonymousfiction211]

A plaything

Summary:

You attend a feast in honour of Prince Thor. You are bored and plan to leave. However, Loki has different plans.

Word count:

2.771 words

Warning:

Swearing and shameless smut

You looked around the room, trying to find some entertainment. But this party was the same as any other party, celebrating the return of one of the princes. The whole ballroom was decorated extravagant with silver cloths, red curtains and multiple chandeliers that were hanging from the ceiling. It was all dressed in the colours of Prince Thor. You always preferred the gold and dark green, which were Prince Loki’s colours. But Thor had returned home from a battle and apparently him not dying needed to be celebrated by every noble family. Including the noble family, you belonged too. You did not attend these parties very often, since your family stood very low in the hierarchy. And even if your family did get invited, your parents would often go themselves. But tonight, happened to be their anniversary, so you offered to go for them instead.  

The servants were currently clearing the last of the cutlery from the tables and pushing some tables around to make room for people to dance. You were still bored from the conversations you had to endure during dinner. It was always the same conversation, how other families were doing, if anything new happened (which was almost never) and praising the royal family for all they had done over the last time. You ordered another glass of wine, the open bar at these parties did make the whole thing slightly more bearable. Then you heard music playing and faced the dance floor to watch the opening dance. King Odin was dancing with his wife Frigga. After the dance ended more people made their way to the dance floor, while Odin and Frigga retreated. With that notion you decided to leave, when you had finished your drink. Since the king and queen left it would not be considered insulting to the royal family if you left early.

You started to down your drink. When your cup was empty you placed it back on the bar and gave the servant a genuine smile. Just when you turned around you heard him ask ‘Would you like another drink lady y/n?’. You turned back to decline the offer when you heard a low voice speaking ‘Yes she will, and I will have the same, please’. You annoyingly turned your head to see which guy had answered, when you saw Loki. Shit. You really wanted to go home but could not decline a prince. Argh.. just this one drink, which was already your fifth, stick to protocol, be polite and leave before you will do something stupid you thought. You quickly smiled at Loki ‘Thank you, my prince’. He gave you a quick smile back. ‘You are welcome, so what do you think of the celebration?’. You complemented the celebration, had the same sort of conversation you had with everybody else all night and drank your drink as fast as you could. When you finished your drink, you were about to excuse yourself and leave. That is when Loki extended his hand to you ‘Would you like to join me for a dance?’. The first thing you thought was I would rather do anything else right now, than dance with you. But you know you could not say that, so rather reluctantly you accepted his hand.

He led you to the dancefloor and he spinned and twirled you around. He did not say a word to you while you danced. He did keep his gaze on you the entire time. He moved gracefully and you started to admire some of his features. You were thankful when the dance ended, because now you finally had an opportunity to leave. ‘If you will excuse..’. But Loki cut you off and led you to a table with some snacks on it, and offered you one. Before you could finish it one of the servants had already brought the two of you a drink. At this point Loki was really getting on your nerves. You gave him one of your fakest smiles, hoping he will take the hint ‘My prince, it would be rude to deny your other guests to have the opportunity to talk to you tonight, it is already getting quite late and..’. He then cut you off again. ‘I find these events quite unbearable. Always the same dull conversations, nothing ever seems to happen. So, to get through them I like to find something to play with.’ You looked confused at him before saying ‘I am getting tired, I think I should leave early tonight’. He leaned a little closer to your ear and purred ‘You have been wanting to leave from the moment I saw you down your drink, but it can’t have my plaything leave early tonight’. He quickly took your hand and walked you over to the table where his brother was sitting with his friends. Before you could protest you heard him say ‘Thor, this is lady y/n, she is a little bored. Kindly take care of her, will you?’. And with that your evening was getting quite long. Thor made you play drinking games and told long stories about his battles. Every time you tried to leave Loki would suddenly show up with someone to talk to, dance with or with something to drink or eat. Every time he did you glared at him, which just made him smirk back at you. Bastard.

The evening would at least go on for another two hours, but you had far too much to drink. When Loki was nowhere to be seen you said goodbye to Thor and the rest of the table and left. You were relieved to be almost at the exit, but suddenly Loki appeared in front of you. To say he looked not amused, would be an understatement. ‘Where do you think you’re going?’ he growled. You took a step back, but he was already walking towards you. ‘I am going home, I wanted to leave for a very long time now. You’ve had your fun by torturing me all evening, now let me go home!’. Loki raised his hand and for a moment you thought he was going to slap you. Since you were being quite rude to royalty. Instead, he brushed your cheek with the back of his hand ‘But darling, you can’t leave until tomorrow.’ You sighed ‘And why not?’. He then looked at you with a dark look and grabbed your waist with both his hands ‘Because I am going to fuck you so hard you will not be able to walk until tomorrow.’ Hearing him say that in a lusty voice did something to you. Before you could answer you saw a green shimmer and you were not standing at the exit anymore.

He pulled you closer to him. He placed two of his fingers under your chin and made you look up at him. He closed the distant between your faces and his lips were now brushing yours. He did not break eye contact and his gaze softened a bit. You saw lust in his green eyes, and you swallowed in anticipation of what was to come. ‘May I?’ he asked. You nodded at him. He then pressed his lips against yours. Your lips move in sync with each other, like you have done this a hundred times before. He moved his hand from your chin to your neck to deepen the kiss. You felt his tongue against your lips, and you opened your mouth to let his tongue enter. Loki then started to kiss you more passionately, which made you moan. He broke the kiss and smirked at you. He put his hands on you butt and lifted you in one smooth motion. You squeaked a bit in surprise and instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. He started to walk with you and kiss your neck. The feeling of his lips on your skin made you breath faster. Then you felt his teeth sink into your flesh, just on the brink of pleasure and pain. You tightened his legs around him, making you feel his hardened cock through his pants.

He had walked you to his bed and laid you down on your back. He shimmered your clothes away and you lay naked before him. He took one of your nipples in his mouth and circled it with his tongue until it hardened. One of his hands was caressing the inside of your thighs. You quickly become a panting mess underneath him. He slipped one finger between your folds and felt how wet you already were. You moaned at the sensation. Loki suddenly stopped and looked deeply into your eyes. He takes his finger with your wetness on it in his mouth and started to suck it. The sight of him sucking his own finger made you tremble. You felt his knee lining up at your entrance putting a slight pressure on your clit. You let out a low moan and started to move your hips up and down, to create some friction. You grabbed his jacket and pulled it off. The fact that he was still fully clothed, was becoming frustrating. You desperately needed to feel him. But before you could undress him any further he grabbed your wrists with one of his hands, and pinned them above your head. He removed his knee and you whined at the loss of pressure on your clit. You felt your pussy throb, begging for attention, but Loki just grinned at you. ‘You’re an eager little thing, aren’t you? Look at my pants’. You looked down and saw a large wet stain at the part of his knee you rubbed your clit against. You started to blush.

Loki flicked his hand and you suddenly felt the touch of cool metal against your wrists. You looked up and saw your wrists handcuffed together. Attached to the handcuffs was a chain which was bound to the headboard of the bed. You heard him chuckle ‘I prefer to have both hands free, when I play with my toys’. Normally you would protest to any man who would do something like that without asking, but with Loki it was different. The fact that he was treating you like his personal toy to play with, was a real turn on for you. Loki moved to lay besides you. He had one hand supporting his head while his other hand was stroking your breasts. You felt your pussy throb harder and started to squirm at the feeling of his touch. He was watching how your body reacted to his touch. He slowly started to move his hand lower. ‘I must say that it was a pleasant surprise to see you tonight’. His hand was now on your hip slowly making circles. You felt the bedsheets underneath your pussy become damp. Your breaths were shallow and you mind was racing. You desperately needed relief. He moved his head to your ear, and his other hand grabbed your hair. He pulled on it slightly and you could feel his tongue stroking your earlobe ‘I noticed you a few feasts ago and ever since I saw you, I have not been able to put you out of my mind’. You moaned at the feeling of his tongue on your ear and bucked your hips in the hope he will touch your pussy. ‘I do admit that I tend to break my toys, but I am going to play with you for as long as I can’. He then put a finger on your clit and started to rub slow circles. He puts just enough pressure on it to feel him, but hardly enough to give you some form of relief. His touch was driving you crazy and you started to moan his name repeatedly. He removed his other hand from your hair and started to stroke your cheek.

Then there was a knock on the door. ‘Prince Loki?’. Loki looked annoyed and turned his face towards the door ‘Come in.’. A guard walked in and he froze for a moment before he regained his composure. Loki chuckled while he was still stroking circles around your clit. His other hand was brushing to your hair, like he was petting you. You could do nothing else than moan his name. You were hardly aware that there was a guard now watching you. ‘Ehm.. the feast is a- almost at an end and Prince Thor is requesting your presence to say goodbye to the remaining guests.’. Loki sighed and looked at you. Your eyes were closed and your whole body looked flushed and was moving ever so slightly. Loki saw just how desperate you were to come. ‘I’ll be there in five minutes’ Loki said to the guard. The guard then left as quickly as he could. You groaned ‘Please Loki, please. You can not do this to me, I need you’.

Loki pushed your legs open further and positioned his face right before your pussy. He hummed in approval. ‘I know darling, but I will not be gone long. Now you have been moaning my name so prettily, let us see if I can make you scream it’. Without a warning he pushed his tongue hard down on your clit and moved it up and down. Two of his fingers slipped easily inside of you and started to pump in and out of you. The wet sounds that were coming from this action sounded sinful to your ears. But all you could care about is the feeling of your orgasm building up inside of you. ‘I do only have 3 minutes left, so I need you to be a good girl and come for me. Now!’. The vibration of his words against your clit sends you over the edge and you screamed his name. His fingers started to pump slower and his tongue was now drawing slow long circles against your clit. He worked you through your intense orgasm and looked smugly at you, trembling, and still moaning his name softly. He brought his fingers to your mouth and you eagerly started to lick them clean. ‘Now, I will be gone for about 30 minutes.’. You looked at him with widened eyes. He then gave you a darkened look ‘But I’m far from done playing with you, yet.’

With his fingers now clean he stood up and grabbed his jacket, put it on and straightened the rest of his clothes. You started to tug at your handcuffs which made Loki chuckle. He then went to one of his cabinets, opened a drawer and pulled out a ball shaped like an egg. ‘You know what it is?’ You shook your head. He walked towards you and pushed the egg-shaped ball inside of you, which made you jolt. Then he showed you a remote in his hands. ‘Like I said, I will be back in 30 minutes. But you do know how I need something to play with during these tedious events.’ He pressed on a button and the egg-shaped ball started to vibrate. You gasped and started to squirm. Loki bent down to kiss you and you started to moan into the kiss. He then whispered in your ear ‘When I come back we’ll play some more before you break. In the meantime, you are not allowed to come until I get back. I want to watch as you come undone every time I let you. If you do come before I am back, I promise you that you are in for a rough night. Remember that right now, I am still going easy on you. Don’t worry the doors will be locked and no one else will be able to enter.’ 

He then stood up straight and started to walk towards the door. You were whimpering softly, trying to distract yourself. You were not sure if you could handle this vibration for so long, without coming. Plus, you did not know if you wanted to know what a rough night with Loki meant. The way he plays with your body was already hard to sustain. You heard him open the door and you looked at him. Just before he was through the door, he turned around to face you ‘Oh, one more thing darling..’ he shot you a wicked grin and you saw him push another button on the remote. The vibration increased, you let out a loud moan and arched your back. Already feeling your orgasm build up. ‘This is not even the highest setting’. And with that he left you to moan, squirm and wait until he gets be back.

[ackerfics]

slow dance with you — mikasa ackerman

— goth!mikasa ackerman x soft!female reader (modern au)

— warnings: slight mention of alcohol, pure rotten fluff

— summary:  after gaining some courage from the drinks she had in the party and from the advice she got from her friends, mikasa is ready to become your girlfriend.

— word count: 3.9k

— author’s notes: i would like to thank the anon who gave me some ideas for goth!mikasa, you are so amazing !! thank you for the small headcanons. and since we’re on the topic of writing abt goth!mikasa, i couldn’t help but pair her up with a classic soft girl who likes to wear pink at every time of the day. this dynamic is based on marceline and princess bubblegum so i hope you enjoy !!

p.s. the reader will have dyed hair here, if this is not your cup of tea, just let this fly by your dash.

listen to this while reading.

“She dyed her hair pink,” came a dazed yet mesmerized tone.

“You’re staring at her again.”

Mikasa jumped on her seat at Eren’s nonchalant observation. She whipped her head to her best friend, his attention directed on his laptop, hands flying across the keyboard as he typed out the next few words in his essay. Noticing the incredulous look the black-haired girl was shooting him, Eren rose an eyebrow before rolling his eyes. Mikasa huffed, crossing her eyes with a subtle hue of red on her cheeks, complimenting her dark lipstick. “I am not staring,” she mumbled. “Shut up, Eren.” She looked away from her subject of interest but continued shooting small glances.

Eren sighed, running his hand through his hair. He was always one of the witnesses of his best friend slash sister being meek around her crush. At first, he was teasing her because not going to lie, Mikasa’s crush is a pretty person but as their years in college made them juniors, Eren will be the reckless idiot that he is (courtesy of Armin) and set Mikasa up. But he liked to live his life out first — Mikasa will probably curse him with that spellbook she bought from the antique bookshop they encountered in their little exploration back when they were first-years. “Mikasa, why don’t you take the chance and confess to her? It’s not going to be the end of the world.”

“If she rejects me? What then?”

“Then that’s the next problem that you will have to face.” The brown-haired boy turned back to his essay. He stared at his laptop screen blankly before spewing out curses. “Now, I forgot what to write next! Damn it.” He picked up his iced coffee and drank from the metal straw as his life depended on it.

Mikasa rolled her eyes at her best friend’s first statement. “Gee, thanks for the advice. It was very much appreciated.”

“Glad to be of help.”

There was a thud on their table that made the two look up from their respective activities. Eren had a scowl on his face because for the nth time this day, he was interrupted from finishing his essay (for fuck’s sake, he doesn’t want to fail Ackerman’s class). Mikasa blinked from scrolling through her crush’s Twitter account (the last post she wrote was about how Levi Ackerman, Mikasa’s relative and everyone’s Anthropology professor) and fixed her attention on their blonde friend, Armin. He looked too bright after a round of morning classes, something that Eren doesn’t comprehend. The blue-eyed young man has always been the rational and genius third of their little group. There wasn’t a time where Armin’s advice got a situation to erupt in flames. It was either the situation became an inferno instead (Eren) or nobody had the guts to do it (Mikasa).

“Hey, guys!” Armin greeted, arranging his side of the table, meticulously placing each component of his lunch in front of him. “How were your morning classes?”

“Shit,” Eren spat out.

“Of course, it is.”

“They were alright,” Mikasa shrugged.

“Figured.” Armin glanced at his friend’s sides of the table, nodding at Mikasa’s balanced lunch while blankly staring at Eren’s laptop. The device should’ve been a good tray of lunch. “I thought you were eating lunch, Eren? That’s what you said in your text.”

“Can’t,” the brown-haired boy huffed. He gestured at his iced coffee without taking his eyes off the laptop. “I guess, this counts as my lunch.”

“When’s that essay due?”

“In about,” Eren looked at the time on his laptop, “three hours. Ackerman is my first period later. That fucking terror professor has no mercy when it comes to this. Can he just piss off for once? Mikasa, do you even tell him to get laid? Because I think that would solve his attitude. I swear to God, he’s getting more pissed every damn day.”

“Wow, I guess getting my short, grumpy, middle-aged uncle to start his sex life will be a nice conversation starter,” Mikasa drawled, half-lidded, bored eyes reading every tweet her crush has posted for the entire week. Mikasa couldn’t help but smile at one post about a new movie her crush just watched, saying that it was now a new favorite. She was tempted to give a heart on every single post but that would it weird because they never followed each other despite the small interactions they shared in between classes. With a sigh, she looked up, only to be met with Eren’s unamused stare. Raising an eyebrow, she asked, “What? Do you think that would work, Eren? Levi is probably a virgin his whole life and will continue his record until he’s all shriveled up.” Eren blanched at the image. “Just finish your homework and stop complaining.”

“I’m trying!”

“You’re not trying hard enough, that’s for sure. If you just started that essay the day he assigned it to your class, you would have finished it way before the deadline.”

Eren pointed at Mikasa with narrowed eyes. “Don’t even go there, Mikasa. I have a life aside from being a sleep-deprived college student.”

“I mean, she’s got a point, Eren.” Armin immediately rose his hands in defense when Eren shifted his glare from the black-haired young woman to him. “You always tend to procrastinate in the most impeccable timing that we sometimes have to remind you of your backlogs. And now, here you are, doing things last minute when you could’ve prevented the rush by doing it immediately.”

“Thanks for slapping the reality to my face, you two,” Eren dryly replied, going back to his essay for the final time. “And by the way, Armin, give Mikasa some solid advice that she will finally follow because she’s making googly eyes at Miss Pretty two tables from us a couple of minutes before you arrived. You know, the love of her life?”

Armin roamed his eyes in the lunch hall and sure enough, there was Mikasa’s goddess sitting with her group of friends. There was that brown-haired girl that was dubbed as the Potato Girl for eating mashed potatoes during Ackerman’s class (the professor told the class his rules of no eating or going out of the room while he’s discussing the moment the girl took a spoonful of her snack). A young man with a buzz cut snorting at what the brown-haired girl said. Armin remembered sharing a class with him. He never got the chance to introduce himself because the young man was sleeping throughout the lecture. There was usually a fourth person in the little group but it seems like he was running late or already in his class. That person was Eren’s sworn frenemy, the reason for that relationship was unknown to this day.

The three people at the table all stood up, the brown-haired girl and the taller young man leading the way. Armin instantly had an idea.

“Hey, [Name]!”

Mikasa nearly had whiplash from turning her head to Armin. “Armin?!” she hissed under her breath, face becoming hotter when you looked at their table, a bright smile lighting up your face. You called your friends, telling them to go on ahead without you, to which they nodded before walking towards the trio’s table. Her brain wasn’t processing the moment you lifted a hand to wave at whoever you were smiling at. Mikasa wished it was her. “Fuck,” she whispered, registering how cute you look. You donned a salmon pink plaid sundress and a white cardigan, matching with the bubblegum pink locks you let down. Her heart was hammering a thousand miles per second and there was no hope of stopping it.

“Hi, Armin,” you replied, stopping a few feet from Mikasa, who looked away from you to fix her wide-eyed stare on her empty plate.

“I was just going to ask if you already have a partner in our Molecular Biology lab?” The blue-eyed young man then turned to Mikasa and Eren. “I’m in the same class as her this year.”

“As if calling her here wasn’t that obvious,” Eren murmured, still typing out his essay.

“I don’t need your dry remarks right now, Eren, don’t want to ruin the atmosphere. So, [Name], you have a partner?”

You shook your head. “I think not. It would be great if we could be partners though. I need a break from the people I’ve been partnered with throughout college.”

He gave you a sympathetic smile. It was true, though. Most of the grouping during your first years of college were all set up by the teachers so the students really had no say on the matter at hand. Even Armin was exposed to a variety of students, most of them being too slacking to participate or too overbearing with their suggestions that they have no plans of doing. He nodded with a smile, “I’ll be sending an email to Professor Zoe about this and we’re done.” He glanced behind you, noticing that your two friends weren’t there anymore. “I’m sorry for holding you up. I’m pretty sure you have a class after lunch. See you around?”

You waved him off. “It’s fine, I told them to go ahead since Sasha has a class scheduled right after lunch and Connie had to nap in his dorm. And I don’t have any class the whole afternoon, except for an online session so yeah, see you around, Armin.” You acknowledge Eren with a nod, to which he responded with a cool expression (as if his mind wasn’t a mess from the cramming), and gave a soft smile to Mikasa, “Bye, Mikasa.” And you were off to your dorm, leaving behind two amused men and an awestruck Mikasa.

The black-haired young woman was hyperventilating the moment you disappeared from the lunch hall, hands clenched on top of her black shorts. She regretted wearing a thin, long-sleeved striped sweater under her black shirt because it was so fucking hot after that encounter. Her entire body was vibrating with too many emotions all at once, short-circuiting until she became a heap of flustered mess in front of her best friends. “Oh, my God,” she muttered like a prayer. She definitely needed one after seeing you all pretty in pink. It was too much for her soul because you two are a perfect match this time. Her grommet belt and choker were not helping because she couldn’t fucking breathe.

“Mikasa, breathe,” Armin reminded beside her. “Yeah, that’s it.”

Once she regained her composure, Mikasa realized she probably looked like a gaping fish. “Oh, my God! I’m so sure that this time, she thinks I’m weird. My name is the only one she mentioned aside from Armin which is saying something because she’s classmates with him. But why did she say goodbye to me? Oh, my God, she’s giving me so many butterflies right now.”

“Your gay is showing,” Eren pointed out calmly.

“Eren, not the time,” Armin murmured, hovering his hands over Mikasa’s back.

“Just wanted to alleviate the tense atmosphere. No need to get so worked up.”

“But, Mikasa, your feelings for her are showing.”

Eren clapped his hands, pointing a finger at Armin. “That, my friend, is a genius observation.”

Ignoring the green-eyed man, Armin continued, “I think it’s time you confess to her. Three years is a pretty long time pining for a person. In the end, her knowing your feelings will be inevitable. That is if you have no plans in letting her know.”

“Of course, I want her to know,” Mikasa murmured, fiddling with the sleeves of her striped long-sleeves.

“I heard that there’s a party this Saturday in Reiner’s frat,” Eren told them, meeting both of his friends’ eyes over the top of his laptop screen. “We’re in the same football team with Jean. The horseface is a friend of your girl,” he nodded at Mikasa, who erupted in a sputter of her crush not being her girl, “okay, not your girl — yet. As I was saying, [Name] is good friends with Jean and if Jean is there, Miss Pretty in Pink will be, too. That’s your chance to ask her out, Mikasa.” He met the blinking gray eyes of his best friend. “The question is, are you up for that?”

-

“You were staring at her so hard at lunch again.”

You looked up from your book to acknowledge Sasha entering your dorm room after a whole afternoon of packed lectures. The brown-haired young woman was so tired that she immediately plopped on top of her bed on the other side of the room. At first, you didn’t register what she said because you were preoccupied with your book. You chose to indulge the night in a good book because it has been a long time since you’ve done that. With furrowed eyebrows, you asked, “Can you repeat what you said, Sasha?”

Sasha tilted her head to look at you with one eye uncovered by her duvet. Her hair fluttered after puffing out a breath of disbelief. “Oh, don’t pretend that you have no idea, Miss Pretty in Pink.”

“That’s because I didn’t catch what you said,” you replied, gesturing at your novel. “And what’s with that Miss Pretty in Pink nickname? Did some of the students around campus started that?”

“Sort of,” Sasha hummed. She sat up from her bed and took out her phone from her backpack lying on the floor. You watched the whole time she stretched her arm without changing her position on her bed. With her phone in hand, she opened her Twitter account. “Actually, a friend of mine tweeted it, wait, I’m just going to scroll through my Likes tab to find her tweet. Oh, here it is.” Sasha showed you her screen, patiently waiting for you to take the device from her hand to get a closer look. Her hopeful smile turned into a small pout when you made no moves in doing so. “Take my phone and see for yourself.”

You sighed, following her pleas. “It’s probably just someone from the volleyball team. You know how some of them never stopped following me around campus. Can’t they take the hint that they’re not my type?”

“This person is much better than those himbo simps following you around. She’s an amazing person behind that shy exterior of hers.”

You only hummed, blankly staring at your roommate’s phone before your eyes widened in realization. Your eyes skimmed over and over again at the handle, mkackerman, beside the display picture of a short-haired girl in pigtails. It was the girl that managed to capture your attention during your first year at Eldia University. The girl with an air of mystique that the stars are jealous of. You always admired her from afar, appreciating her style each day. But your admiration was getting replaced with something more at the five words she tweeted. 

You’re so pretty in pink.

Roses bloomed in your cheeks, complimenting your pink hair the longer you gawked at her short post. 

“What?” you breathed out after a full minute of silence.

“Mm-hmm,” Sasha hummed with a smug smile. “And who dyed her hair pink impulsively last weekend?” She intentionally looked at you with sharp eyes, her smile turning into a smirk full of mischief. In actuality, Sasha knew of Mikasa’s crush on you since they were acquainted with each other. It was an embarrassing first meeting between the two, with Sasha latching on a random person’s arm in the station and it turned out to be Mikasa. The two became great friends after that, well, after Mikasa lowered her guard down, leaving her pocket knife safely tucked underneath her checkered skirt. It was Sasha who managed to make Mikasa confess of her undying love for you, the former squealing her heart out in the library. (They were kicked out after that.) 

“I don’t know,” you denied. “There could be a couple of people in the campus who thought that spontaneously dyeing their hair pink is an awesome idea.” You threw your hands in the air, giving back Sasha her phone right after.

“Trust me. Mikasa doesn’t have any interest in any other girl other than a special someone I know.”

You chose to ignore her, turning back on the discarded book on top of your covers. The words flew around your mind, aggravating you until you placed the novel on your lap. A defeated sigh came out of your lips. “Okay, let’s go out for some dinner.” You stretched, switching your pajama bottoms for a pair of loose jeans, and leaving your button-down pajama top on. The people in public will never know your top is a part of a pajama set. As you ducked down to roll the bottom of your jeans, you hear Sasha’s bed shuffling. Sitting up, you regarded her with an inquisitive raise of an eyebrow. “Spill it.”

“Oh, alright. Jean told me to bring you to a party.”

You stood up, patting your lap of imaginary dust, placing your things and book inside your tote bag. “Tell him no. I have a written exam coming up and I don’t want to fail one of my majors. He can manage without one person in our friendship group.”

Sasha huffed, mimicking your actions. “This will be the last time!”

“You said that the previous party you pulled me to.” You narrowed your eyes at her. “I couldn’t get up for a whole day because of that party. Don’t forget your wallet.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Sasha threw her wallet in her small bag, throwing the strap over her shoulder. “I promise that this will be the last time, I’ll even call Connie for the witness of my pact!” She placed a heartfelt palm over her chest, lifting her chin a little in the air. “I solemnly swear I am … keeping my promise.”

“You hesitated.”

The brown-haired girl giggled sheepishly, scratching the back of her neck. “It’s kind of hard not to continue the quote from Harry Potter. You can’t blame me for that!”

“I’ll think about it, okay?”

“You better because Mikasa will be there.”

You blinked at her statement. “What does this have to do with her?”

Your roommate looped her arm with yours, pulling you in the direction of the elevators. “Because,” it sounded like she was talking to a child, “you were staring at her earlier during lunch period. I understand that because Mikasa looks so good every second of the day but there was something different about the way you’re staring at her.” She tapped her finger on her chin. “Let me see, there’s some pizzaz there.”

“The pizzaz you’re talking about is me admiring her make-up — nothing more.”

“Whatever you say,” came Sasha’s sing-song voice. “I will be the first one who will say ‘I told you so’ to your face when you two start dating.”

-

The night of the party was not as bizarre as you thought.

Sure, there were people having shots in the living room but there weren’t any extreme scenarios lying around unlike some of the parties Connie and Jean went to. It was mostly catching up with old friends or making connections with strangers by ranting about the education system of your university. All in all, it was a fun night, yet here you are, holding your cup of beer with two hands as you craned your neck to get a glimpse of Sasha. Your roommate disappeared as you turned to get a shot, leaving a confused you behind. To think you specifically asked Sasha to be by your side throughout the night. You cursed in your head, you being reliant on the presence of others surfacing. Your stress made you tip your head back, downing your drink in a go.

Without anything to do, you leaned back on the wall. Mind hazy, eyes glassy, you searched the living room for a spunky brown-haired girl that you were supposed to be buddies with. Instead of Sasha, you met gazes with a girl with stars for her eyes. She was equally mesmerized as she was staring straight at you. Everything became silent as your heartbeat resonated with hers. She was beautiful in her all-black outfit — a leather pencil skirt over fishnet stockings, cropped tank top, and combat boots. The two of you are contrasting with one another; her lipstick so dark whilst yours shone a pretty coral, her hair framing her face in a midnight pixie cut whilst yours were in pink waves cascading down, her entire appearance blending in the background whilst you were a beacon with your coordinating soft outfit. 

God damn it, Sasha was right.

You are definitely falling in love with Mikasa Ackerman.

Mikasa who you saw reading tarot cards of her blonde friend. Mikasa who you bumped into during the opening ceremony two years ago. Mikasa who you discovered to have an affinity for electric guitars when you stumbled in one of the auditoriums, her department’s band having an audition. Mikasa who never meets your gaze because you make her nervous at how effortless you carry yourself. 

But tonight, she never looked away from you, her eyes having an adoring yet determined shine.

She stopped in front of you, mere inches separating you two. You looked up at her, her combat boots making her taller than she already is. You saw her eyes flick to your lips, your breath hitching at the thought of having her dark lipstick on any part of your body. With a careful tilt of her head, Mikasa ducked her head a little to fully meet your eyes face to face. “I saw you’re alone,” her voice is still soft-spoken as if she was afraid that she was scaring you. It might be because of the liquid and verbal courage she got from drinking and listening to her best friends because Mikasa had no plans of letting you go tonight. “I thought you needed company.”

A breath came out of your lips, your proximity making Mikasa feel it. “Uhm, if it’s you, I don’t see why not?”

A large smile brightened Mikasa’s face before it dimmed as she lowered her gaze to your lips once more. “I’ve been waiting three years for this.”

Maybe your mind was too hazy with alcohol or it could be because you accepted your feelings for the black-haired girl, so you whispered, lips brushing against hers in the most addicting way possible, “Just kiss me, Mikasa.”

Her lips softly moved against yours in a slow dance, the inches separating you disappearing as Mikasa wrapped an arm around your waist. You lift a hand to cup her jaw, tilting your head to deepen the kiss and to brush your tongue with hers. You felt her shiver, biting your lower lip to make you open up more, with your whimpers tingling her hearing. Mikasa pulled away, trailing firm kisses on the skin where your shoulder meets your neck. Seeing the black kiss mark on your skin, she smiled and placed fluttering kisses on your neck up to your cheek. Opening your eyes, the silver grays in front of you have never been so beautiful. You returned the favor of placing kiss marks. You stood on your tiptoes, feeling Mikasa’s hand steadying you, and left a coral pink mark on the corner of her mouth. 

Mikasa dipped her head, placing her lips close to your ear.

“I want to slow dance with you,” she sung to your ear. “I know all the other boys are tough and smooth and I got the blues. I want to slow dance with you.” Mikasa hid a small smile at your flustered expression. “So can I be your vampire queen, Bonnie?”

The moment you said yes, there was a shout in the crowds. “Hell yeah, your plan worked, Eren, Armin!”

You and Mikasa stared at each other with wide eyes before laughing. 

“Let’s go ditch this party.”

“Thought you’d never ask, Bonnie.”

[baepsaesbae]

Eclipse

Pairing— Day Fairy!Hoseok x Night fairy!reader    

Genre— SMUT, fae au, angst, idiots to lovers

Warnings— Oral (F receiving), nipple play, explicit unprotected sex, hair pulling, both praise and slight derogatory dirty talk bc I can’t make up my mind, slight swearing

Word Count— 3.3k  

Summary— The summer solstice is here and it’s time to celebrate. Your favorite part of the solstice is that you get to see Hoseok, or rather, the love of your life. It’s too bad you haven’t told him how you really felt, even though it has been centuries. Maybe this year will be different. 

A/N— This fic is part of The Fabled Collab hosted by @joontopia, @kimtaehyunq, and @whipped-for-kpop-fics. Hoseok is my sunshine, so I just had to write about him! Thank you to @s0seo and @taegularities for giving me motivation to write. Lastly, huge shoutout to Eden from @thebiasrekkers​ for making this awesome banner for me! As always, let me know how you guys like the fic! My askbox is always open <3

Fae clans have many holidays and rituals, but solstices are by far the most celebrated. Solstices mark the pivotal event that shifts the seasonal responsibilities between the sun and moon clans. The summer and winter solstice are always the biggest events of the year, with about a week of festivities leading up to the final event. 

Sweat ran down your spine as the sun beat down on you. You’ve been holding up a stupid banner for what felt like an eternity.

“Okay wait, you’re gonna hate me but I think we should put it back to where we originally had it,” Sunghoon said with furrowed brows.

“That’s it. We’ve been doing this all morning. Figure this out yourself,” you angrily threw down the banner and stormed off before Sunghoon had the chance to yell at you.

You ignored the friendly calls from other fae that were setting up decor nearby. It was way past your bedtime. Cranky and drenched in sweat, you were definitely not a happy night fairy. Heading straight to the pond, you derobed and found comfort in the cool waters that  washed away your stress instantly. You gazed up at the blue sky while floating on your back. The day truly was beautiful, you couldn’t deny that. However, nighttime was better in your very much biased opinion. The dark sky littered with countless stars that glittered like diamonds was an unbeatable sight. 

“Hey there sunshine!” a familiar voice interrupted your thoughts. You dipped back into the water and turned to the source of the sound.

“Hey there, perv. Care to join me?” you beckoned.

“I wish I could, but I need to go finalize some plans for the handoff ceremony--”

“It’s the same EVERY year. C’mon Hobi, you don’t need to go,” you whined.

“I’ll meet you back here at sunset, how does that sound?” he tried to appease you.

“Midnight. I’m already exhausted, I don’t wanna wake up early,” you blew raspberries into the pond.

“That’s fair. I’ll see you then okay?” Hoseok waved before flying off.

On top of parties filled with indulgences that would blow the mind of any feeble human, Hoseok was the added bonus that made you eager for each solstice. Admittedly, you two have had some sort of flirtationship going on for the past few centuries. Your friends always teased you about how madly head over heels you were for him. As much as you wanted to believe that he loved you in the same way, something always felt off.  

Hoseok always reciprocated your flirtatious advances, but it felt more like a game between friends rather than something substantial. You’ve even observed his interactions with other fairies, and it didn’t seem like he gave you any special treatment. He was simply a good friendly guy that everyone loved, but not the way that you loved him. 

You were dying to know how he truly felt about you. All these years of playful banter had been fun, but they had also been simultaneously eating away at you. There’s no way he doesn’t know that you love him. At the same time, what if he thinks you’re just a good friend? You needed to know for sure, and you intended to confront him about it at midnight.

“Good evening,” you greeted Hoseok shyly as you approached the pond’s bank. 

“Good day to you sunshine,” Hoseok called back as he kicked at the water.

“How’d the meeting go?” you asked.

“Boring as always. You’re right, it’s the same every year. But the elders still want to go over everything again to ensure that the ceremony is perfect,” Hoseok sighed.

“Thanks for coming to hangout with me even though you’re so busy,” you said, suddenly feeling guilty.

“Are you kidding? I’ve been looking forward to this all day! You’re the perfect person to unwind with after a long day,” Hoseok smiled. There it was. The radiant smile you fell for the first time you ever met him. 

“You sure I’m the perfect person for that? What do you do when you’re back in your own land surrounded by other day fae?” you prodded, hoping to steer the conversation onto the ‘what are we’ topic. 

“I have my friends there for sure, and I appreciate them too. But it’s different with you. Maybe because I can only hangout with you twice a year. You’re like my super special friend, yaknow?” Hoseok tried to explain. 

“Uh yeah, for sure. Like a special playdate kind of thing huh?” you tried to hide your hurt feelings.

“Exactly! You get it. It’s like you’re my favorite dessert that I can only have twice a year,” Hoseok nodded.

“Right…” you whispered softly to yourself. You spent the rest of the night listening to the unfruitful discussions Hoseok had during his meetings. All the excitement over the festival had drained from you. Now, you just wanted it to be over so you can go sulk in peace. 

“You’re awfully quiet,” Hoseok observed, “You haven’t interjected once about how stupid our traditions are or how you’re looking forward to having long nights again.”

“Hm? Oh yeah, I’m just tired. Sunghoon really worked me to the bone yesterday, that damn day fairy,” you faked a yawn.

“Hey, be nice! Wasn’t it you who volunteered to help us anyway?” Hoseok shook his head.

‘Yeah, because I thought I’d be able to work with you,’ you thought.

“It was a bizarre streak of altruism, that’s all,” you shrugged. 

“Nah, I know you’re a kind fairy deep down!” Hoseok playfully nudged your shoulder. Normally you would welcome this type of physical affection, but for right now it served as a painful reminder that you were merely seen as a buddy. 

You actively avoided Hoseok for the remainder of the week, counting down the hours to when it would finally all be over. You made up some lame excuse to not hangout with Hoseok every time he approached you. He must have caught on by the final day, either that or he was extremely busy. Afterall, he was the MC for the entire ordeal. 

Apparently, your abrasive reputation preceded you because no one wanted your help with anything. As soon as they saw you coming, they would randomly find themselves very preoccupied with something that made them too busy to talk to you. The only person who would put you to work was Sunghoon, who was one of Hoseok’s best friends. You wondered why he was always so nice to you even when you complained the entire time you helped him.

“That’s the last table! They all look great, thanks for helping with the set up,” Sunghoon gave you a thumbs up.

“You know it’s pointless setting up all these tables. Most of the fairies are just gonna be dancing or fucking all night long, no one is gonna be sitting down,” you said.

“Are you gonna be one of the fairies partying?” Sunghoon inquired.

“Definitely not,” you answered curtly.

“Then I’m happy at least one of these tables will be utilized,” Sunghoon nodded, “Try to enjoy yourself tonight okay?”

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes.

The entire forest seemed to come alive that night. The trees swayed with the enchanting music while cheers of merriment erupted around the party scene. You sat alone at a mushroom table with your third (or was it fourth?) cup of berry wine. You glared at the fairies who had lost themselves to their pleasures, whether it be the wine or the toadstools, or perhaps even both. Fairies who had given into their more lustful urges could be seen on the outskirts of the dance floor, some in the innocent stages of kissing and others entangled full fledged fornication. Scoffing at the obscene orgy, you stumbled off to get another cup of wine. Even though you weren’t really participating, you had to admit that fairies knew how to throw a party. 

“Hey ___, I noticed you’ve been by yourself the whole evening. Want some company?” someone asked behind you as you filled up your mug to the brim. You turned to see two Sunghoons merge to become one hazy Sunghoon in the blink of an eye. 

“F-ffuck off Sunghoon,” you slurred.

“I wanted to thank you for all the hard work you did for this year’s summer solstice,” Sunghoon continued, unfazed by your harshness, “Wanna dance to celebrate?”

“Nope,” you answered as you pushed him aside.

“Yeah she seemed pretty pissed dude,” Sunghoon said while taking a large swig.

“At you or in general?” Hoseok inquired.

“Dunno man, she’s always been like that. However, she seemed more aggravated than usual, which is hard to imagine,” Sunghoon chuckled, “Did you do something to her?”

“No! I’ve been replaying everything we talked about at the pond but everything seemed fine! I even told her that she was my super special friend and---oh shit,” Hoseok’s face fell.

“Idiot,” Sunghoon tsked. 

Both fae clans had gathered by the main stage, intently listening to the same speeches that the clan leaders have spoken for centuries. You watched apathetically as the everlasting flame was being formally handed over. The crowd roared as the flame changed from a deep crimson red to an icy silver color with a blue hue, signifying that the solstice had come to pass. 

If the festival wasn’t wild before, it had only gotten more out of hand after the official ceremony. Seeing the other fairies go wild in every sense of the word made you nauseous. The noise level intensified as you watched your fairy brethren engage in rather promiscuous activities. Someone even beckoned for you to join in the fun, but you just walked away. The only person you wanted to have that kind of fun with was Hoseok. It infuriated you that your thoughts always drifted to him. You filled up your cup one last time and walked away from the ruckus, towards an empty grove. Hopefully you would be able to wallow in self pity in peace there. 

The stars twinkled above you, and dim moonlight speckled the ground around you as it shone through the trees. You could still hear the party, but it was much fainter now and served as nice background noise to keep you from drowning in your thoughts. With a deep exhale, you fought to hold back tears. You felt so foolish. Too many years have been wasted in vain for an unrequited love that you should have seen coming. It was so stupid of you to hold onto a sliver of hope that Hoseok would like you back. 

“The party is that way,” a familiar voice called out to you.

“Then why aren’t you there?” you didn’t try to mask the annoyance in your voice.

“I saw you walk away, I wanted to check up on you.”

“Why the fuck would you even care?” you sat up and hissed.

“Why are you being so hostile? You’re the one who has been avoiding me all week!” Hoseok raised his voice.

“I’m sure you didn’t have much time to spend with me anyway,” you huffed.

“That’s not true. I spent every moment of my free time looking for you, only for you to turn me away. Can you tell me what’s wrong?” Hoseok calmed down.

“Fine. I’m in love with you, okay? How fucking embarrassing. It hurt when you said that I was your super best friend or whatever. Seeing you afterward just reminded me of how dumb I am,” you couldn’t make eye contact with him.

“Oh sunshine, I’m the idiot. I shouldn’t have said that. You’re my special friend because I like you too. I wanted to spend every second with you this week. I didn’t mean to hurt you like that, I’m so sorry ____,” Hoseok got down on his knees and pulled you in for a hug. You were stunned.

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner then!” you pushed him off.

“I thought it was obvious from the way we flirted!” he argued. 

“You’re nice to everyone, it was hard for me to tell,” you pouted.

“My apologies for not being a sourpuss like you,” Hoseok laughed.

“So...what now? It wasn’t really a romantic confession but I guess our feelings are out in the open now,” you whispered as you leaned against him.

Suddenly, Hoseok pushed you back to the ground, straddling your hips. His dark hair nearly covered his eyes as he looked down at you. He was beyond beautiful, his white iridescent wings glittered ethereally in the moonlight. 

“Remember when I said you’re like a dessert I can only have twice a year? I’d like to make that a reality,” Hobi smirked. He bent over to kiss you. It was soft at first, his plush lips pressing up against yours. He gently cupped your face with one hand while the other wandered to your chest, undoing your blouse. Lust overtook the both of you as the kiss deepened and Hoseok fondled your breasts. You let out a small gasp as he played with your nipples, rolling them between his fingers.  

“Spread those legs for me, sunshine,” he demanded.

You complied, slowly exposing yourself to him. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him while in such a compromising position. Hoseok gingerly kissed a trail along your inner thighs towards your core. His hot breath against your pussy made you squirm under him in anticipation.

“So impatient,” he chuckled, “Let’s play a game. You have to make eye contact with me while I eat you out. Every time you look away, I stop.”

“You’re evil,” you huffed before reluctantly looking at the beautiful being perched between your legs. 

“That’s my girl,” he purred approvingly before spreading your folds with his fingers. His eyes darkened with lust as you watched him lick tantalizingly slow stripes. He could feel your need for more, so he moved up to focus on your clit, giving it special attention as his tongue swirled around it. 

You tangled your fingers into his hair, gripping him tighter as he licked your clit faster. All your composure was lost as you looked down at him with pleading eyes.

“What is it? Need more?” Hoseok teased as his fingers traced your entrance.

“Please,” you whimpered.

“Please what?” Hoseok feigned ignorance

“Please touch me,” you said softly.

“We need to work on your begging, but you’re so adorable I can’t say no,” Hobi dove back into stimulating your clit as he slipped a finger inside of you. He smirked at how easily he went in, and immediately added a second finger. The new feeling had you throwing your head back as he grazed your g-spot. Right as things began to feel good, he retracted everything.

“Hobi!” you cried out in frustration.

“You looked away. Remember the rules to our little game?” Hoseok chided. You glared down at him as he immediately picked up where he left off, not giving you time to readjust. Fighting back the urge to close your eyes, soft moans escaped from your lips.

“Ready to cum, my dear ___?” he asked sweetly as his fingers dipped to directly attack your g-spot.

There was no time to give a proper response. Your back arched and your toes curled up as your orgasm overwhelmed you. Drenched in your juices, Hoseok glistened under the moonlight.

“Absolutely gorgeous,” Hoseok praised, “But I’m not finished with you yet,” he leaned in to whisper in your ear.

He unbuckled his trousers, releasing the monster that dangled between his legs. You willingly spread your legs for him, eager for more.

“So needy, you haven’t had enough yet?” Hoseok tsked as he rubbed the tip of his cock along your folds.

Finally, Hoseok began to bury himself into you. He took his time, relishing how your warm walls squeezed him. You closed your eyes in ecstasy, focusing on feeling every inch of him. Once he bottomed out, you wrapped your legs around him in an attempt to bring him impossibly closer. The dark lust that swam in his eyes broke for a second, replaced by the warm smile that made you fall in love with him in the first place. He bent down to kiss you, and you happily reciprocated. 

Hoseok moved his hips slowly as he fucked you at a deep yet gentle pace. Mouths still colliding, you shyly licked at his lips. Taking your hint, Hoseok’s tongue met yours. As the kisses deepened with more saliva being interchanged, Hoseok’s thrusts became harsher.    

“You’re so fucking sexy. Lemme see that ass baby,” Hoseok growled as he flipped you over.

He smacked your ass twice and watched it jiggle in awe before placing a firm grip on your hips. Almost animalistically, he bucked into you. Your body jolted forward with each thrust. You had never been fucked this hard before, and it was heavenly. Hoseok’s control over his body movement was insane. Your moans grew louder as his hips continuously rolled into you. 

One of Hoseok’s hands formed a tight grip on your hair, roughly bringing your head up off the ground. You couldn’t stop your wanton moans from filling the open air. 

“H-Hoseok,” you cried out.

“What is it? Is it too much for you?” Hoseok cooed in your ear as he brought your head back even closer to him.

“Mmm-no,” was all you could make out.

“I knew you could take it all, such a good slut,” Hoseok praised as he let go of your hair.

Unable to hold yourself up, you immediately fell back onto your chest. Your fingernails dug into the dirt as you could feel another orgasm swelling up inside of you. 

“I’m gonna cum again,” you wailed out.

“I’m almost there, wait for me baby,” Hoseok instructed.

With perfect timing, Hoseok let out a guttural moan as he spilled his seed inside of you. Sounds of pleasure bounced around the grove as you came in unison. Hoseok’s cum dripped down the sides of your inner thighs when he pulled out. 

“How did I do, sunshine?” Hoseok asked jovially as you laid on the ground before him.

“You knocked me out. I don’t think I can move for a while,” you weakly answered with a smile.

“Not a problem, we can just stay here for a while, sunshine,” Hoseok laid down beside you, beckoning for you to rest atop his chest. 

“I like when you call me that,” you yawned.

“Sunshine?” Hoseok asked.

“Yeah, that. It makes me feel special,” you nodded.

“Is that so? I’m glad it makes you feel special, because you are. You’ve always been the spunky night fairy that everyone knows but is too afraid to approach,” Hoseok laughed.

“What! I am totally friendly! Just not to those who piss me off,” you defended, “Which...I guess is a lot of people so I suppose I see your point. What made you want to be my friend if everyone thought I’m scary?”

“You treated me like everyone else. It always felt like people put on a fake facade around me since I’m the chief’s son. They’re nice to me to try and curry favor with my father, or maybe flirt with me to try and gain some special sort of status. I don’t know. I’m just me,” Hoseok shrugged. 

“If it makes you feel any better, you’re my sunshine,” you hugged him.

“That makes me feel great. I’ll do my best to see you more than twice a year, okay?” he kissed your forehead.

“I guess I can clear my schedule and come over to visit you too,” you giggled, “Or maybe we can run away and make a clan of our own.”

“Are you serious?” he asked, “Don’t tempt me. I’d love to go somewhere where no one knows my name or expects anything from me.”

“How about we go to where the day meets the night?” you offered.

“Like what? An eclipse?” Hoseok said as he gazed into the night sky.

“Precisely. We can make an eclipse clan. We only have to do festivals for eclipses, and those are kinda rare,” you giggled.

“Sounds like a good dream, sunshine. Let’s seriously discuss it in the morning when we’re both more sober,” Hoseok kissed your forehead.

“Goodnight, my sunshine,” you whispered into his chest.

Published July 23, 2021. No editing, copying, translating, or reposting allowed. All Rights Reserved © 2021 Baepsaesbae.

[novelconcepts]

The night Dani sees Peter Quint, a blackout happens during the storm. The officers say that it's not safe to stay there in the middle of a storm and without a way to talk to the police if necessary. Hannah and the kids go to Owen's house. Jamie offers a ride, her little flat, clothes and a bath (since crazy Dani decided to run after Peter during the storm).

There's just one bed prompt. Maybe a small couch or chair.

They listen, which is frankly more than Dani expected when Hannah insisted on calling the police. She suspects it has less to do with the Peter Quint of it all, and more to do with the lightning strike, the cataclysm of rain, an old house plunged into deep black. No phone lines, the officers point out with weary expressions that say they are not certain Peter Quint is truly a danger--but Lord Wingrave is not without a certain amount of authority around these parts, and if any further tragedy should befall his niece and nephew, these men would find themselves overloaded on unpleasant paperwork and worse press. 

Bad reasons, Dani thinks with a scowl. They ought to have gone into this field to help people, not scoff at Hannah’s fear and Dani’s unease. They ought to be doing something, not simply waving them off the property for the night. It’s listening, sort of, but it isn’t hearing. 

She glances at Jamie as the officers speak--directly, she notes, to Owen, as though as the only man among them, he has defaulted to de facto lord of the manor. He looks uncomfortable, rubbing a hand through wet hair; Dani remembers him saying, I was born in Bly, wonders if he went to school with either of the men in slick uniform. 

Jamie doesn’t look uncomfortable. Jamie looks angry. There’s a fire burning in her Dani suspects never entirely went out after this afternoon’s rose debacle, one that might have been tempered if they’d been able to track Quint down outside. But he’s in the wind, the product of long legs and a better awareness of the terrain. Dani, giving chase into a fresh downpour before she could think better of her choices, is still itching at the memory of his long coat vanishing into the dark. 

She’d run into Jamie, instead--full-force, a bone-rattling collision that had sent them both tumbling into the sopping grass. It might have been funny, if not for the echo of Quint’s footfalls dying away.

“If he’s here?” Jamie asks now. “Quint. If he’s still here? What then?”

The officer in charge gives her a brief look, barely long enough to register detail. “If he’s here,” he says boredly, “all the better that you aren’t.”

Jamie grinds her jaw. She seems barely to be containing herself, resisting the impulse to explain in no uncertain terms that this is their home, this place Quint is intruding upon. Their home--Hannah and the kids and Dani, at least--where Quint would be trailing slimy fingers. The idea of that smirking face going through the bedrooms makes Dani shudder. It seems to press Jamie toward an unwise argument. 

Without thinking, Dani reaches out, lays a hand on her shoulder. Jamie’s hair is still dripping, her jacket sodden. Her eyes, catching on Dani’s face, widen a little, her teeth unclenching. 

“You have somewhere to go?” the head officer reiterates, glancing back toward the door as though dreaming of a warm car, a comfortable house far from the manor. Owen nods in Hannah’s direction. 

“Mum won’t mind. Can have a little sleepover.”

“Yes!” Flora perks up. She’s been uncharacteristically quiet, leaning against Miles’ side, but her whole face switches on like a lantern now. “A sleepover!”

“How’s about it, Miles?” Hannah taps him lightly on the head. “A little evening adventure.”

He looks uncertain, but when she ruffles his hair, a slow smile creeps across his face. Dani’s relieved to see it--she’s started to believe Miles is thirty-five in a ten-year-old frame, the weight of so much loss bearing him down like an anchor. He deserves a little fun. 

“And you,” Hannah adds, looking to Dani as if reading her mind. “What do you say to a night off?”

Dani blinks. “Oh, I don’t think that’s necess--”

“Chased a man into the storm,” Hannah interrupts. “Not a decision I’d approve of twice, but it was quite brave. And, forgive me dear, but you look like you could use a proper rest in the aftermath.”

That might be, Dani thinks absently, the nicest way of saying you look like shit I’ve ever heard. 

“I’ll just get cleaned up real quick,” she says, “and then I’ll be perfectly fine to--”

Hannah raises a hand. “I insist. Let Owen and I handle them for the evening.”

Dani opens and closes her mouth several times. What’s the alternative? Is Hannah expecting her to stay here? Here, in a house they’re all carefully not admitting feels much bigger in the dark, huddled around the glow of policeman flashlights? 

“Can crash at my place,” Jamie says, almost gruffly. “If you don't mind the company.”

Hannah looks unsurprised by this offer. Dani feels a little light-headed at the idea. 

“I--I’m all muddy.”

Jamie makes a show of looking down at her own clothes, caked in wet clods of grass, soaked nearly to the skin. She raises her eyebrows in Dani’s direction as if to say, Any more sterling arguments?

Dani has none.

Jamie doesn’t say a word as they load into her truck, Dani trying her best to shrink down to inhabit as limited a space as possible. Her legs ache with the effort of holding her feet aloft, her thighs pressed together to prevent staining the whole seat with grime. Jamie glances in her direction, pulling carefully out onto the road, and Dani could swear she’s trying not to smile.

“Know what I do for a living, don’t you?”

Dani nods. Jamie clears her throat.

“Then should go without saying you’re not the first to track mud into the truck. Relax.”

Embarrassed, Dani does as she’s bid. From the corner of her eye, she sees Jamie’s mouth twitch again--sees Jamie’s hands resting comfortably at ten and two, Jamie’s shoulders slightly rounded as though by holding her posture firm, she can punch a hole through the sheeting rain. She doesn’t seem nervous in the least to be driving through this mess with Dani huddled beside her. 

Jamie, Dani is starting to think, doesn’t get nervous.

Well, that makes one of us. 

She has nothing to be nervous about, is the thing. Chasing a strange man into a storm, racing after him with nothing but a fire poker and a hot protective impulse--that should have made her nervous. Should have scared the shit out of her. And it hadn’t. She’d felt bizarrely well-equipped for the decisions she was making, at the time. Peter Quint, she’d been certain, should have been the nervous one.

But now, sitting with wet hair and mussed clothes beside a woman she’s held barely three conversations with, Dani feels distinctly out of her element. No kids. No easy warmth of a carefully-sewn-together family opening its arms to let her in. Just a truck, rattling along a slick road on its way to a tiny town she’s never set foot in before.

And a woman with wet curls plastered to her forehead, stealing tiny glances at Dani like she’s not quite sure what to do with her.

“Flat’s small,” Jamie says, as if apologizing, as she parks outside a pub that looks older than any establishment in Dani’s hometown. “Don’t need much. But there are no screamin’ kids.”

Flora and Miles aren’t much for screaming without reason, but Dani thinks she takes Jamie’s point all the same. Quiet, Jamie is trying to say. Dani can properly rest here, Jamie is trying to say. Jamie doesn’t mind offering up her space.

“Ready?” The rain is still coming down in a torrent. Jamie’s hand is positioned at the doorhandle, Jamie’s posture strung tight. “Make a break for it on three. One--two--”

They run, damp clothes made soggy all over again, and Dani is surprised to hear herself make a whooping sound of joy as she splashes through puddles. Jamie, she thinks, could move faster--Jamie’s got a runner’s stamina when she puts her mind to it--but she’s jogging along at an easy pace, refusing to leave Dani behind. Her hand catches once on Dani’s sleeve, pulling her to the stairs behind the pub, guiding her up to a door at the top.

“Storms like these,” Jamie says when they’ve tumbled breathlessly into her home, “remind me of bein’ a kid. Sitting in school, hoping the power’d go so they’d send us home early.”

“Did it ever happen?” Dani wraps her arms around herself, trying not to shiver, trying not to drip too expansively across the scored floorboards. Jamie grins.

“Once. I was seven. Spent the whole day out in it anyway, caught the worst cold of my life. Best goddamn day a kid could want.” 

She looks so at home here, as Dani watches her pull off her boots, drape her jacket lazily over a chair, stride around turning on lights. At the manor, Jamie is casual enough, rarely inclined to rush or worry, but here, it’s instantly clear she knows every creak in the floor, every stubborn lightswitch, every inch of a domain that is entirely Jamie. 

A domain she has, for no reason at all, opened up to Dani tonight. The reality of it crashes home all at once, landing hard. Jamie barely knows her, and still is willing to give Dani a place to stay. Jamie barely knows her, and still is holding out a gray towel and a bundle of clothes, her smile crooked.

“Thought you might like to get out of those.”

A spike of warmth makes its way up Dani’s spine, settling somewhere around her ears. She crushes it down, forcing herself to accept the sweats and t-shirt with a grateful smile of her own.

“Thank you. Honestly, you didn’t have to do any of this--”

“The rain,” Jamie says easily, “is the fun part. The cold, not so much. Bath’s this way.”

Bathroom, Dani assumes she means--until Jamie gestures at the little tub, barely big enough for a woman her size. She looks marginally embarrassed for the first time, but it’s a resolute sort of embarrassment, as though Jamie has little patience for it. 

“Not much,” she says. “But still better than catching ill. Take however long you like.”

Dani watches her back out of the room, a tumble of unfamiliar emotions in her chest. Someone offering up everything--home, clothes, bathtub--without asking for something in return is strange. Someone doing that much and then leaving, peaceable as the turn of a new day, is unheard of. She hesitates, waiting at the closed door for signs that Jamie will change her mind--or knock, having thought of something else Dani might need--and nothing comes. This room has become, so long as Dani wants it, her space. Jamie will take it back only when Dani’s finished. 

Unwelcomely, she tries to imagine Eddie doing this very thing. Eddie, who only refrains from haunting her European adventures with postcard and phone call because he has no idea how to find her. Eddie, who would think the offer of clothes and a hot bath automatically come with other perks, and who would smile as he stepped in to collect like he couldn’t imagine her wanting to be left alone. 

She shakes her head. Eddie is gone, and she is here, and Jamie isn’t him. Is so unlike him, in fact, it’s hard to imagine them standing in the same room.

And why, some little part of her pipes slyly up, are you comparing them in the first place? 

She shivers, turning on the water, letting it run as hot as possible before sinking in. She leans her head back against a wadded-up washcloth, surveying the simplicity of the bathroom--single toothbrush, single cup for water, a minute assortment of hairbrush, hair ties, sunscreen. There is a dried rose framed beside the door, a small bunch of purple-and-white flowers she can’t name in a tiny windowsill vase. 

It’s all very discreet, all very Jamie. To look at it with this much freedom, to be trusted alone in a space that has belonged to no one else, makes her heart pound.

She’s only being nice. And so what? What does it matter? 

It matters. Even if she never says so, even if she never lets it out of her heart, Dani can’t deny that it matters. Like it mattered watching Jamie walk into the kitchen earlier this week, glancing at her with an easy raise of brows like she was thinking, Sure. You can stay. You’re one of us. 

Jamie, calling her Poppins, telling her she’s doing great, offering her flat without a second’s pause. None of it warranted. None of it asked for. All of it so incredibly welcome.

She stays in the bath until the shivers ease out, carefully soaping her hair with the little bottle of shampoo on the windowsill. A different scent and brand than her own, and as she’s rinsing clean, she realizes she will smell like Jamie now. If for only a night, her hair--and the clothes Jamie gently pressed into her hands--will hold just a little bit of the gardener’s influence. 

The warmth she’s beginning to attribute to Jamie sweeps through her again at the idea. That, and the awareness that these are Jamie’s things hugging her body. Jamie’s belongings, offered up like she feels not the least bit possessive about her living space. Sure. You can stay. You’re one of us. 

“Warm?” Jamie asks when she finally steps back out of the bathroom. Her hair is still wet, though she’s changed into a clean white shirt and sweatpants of her own. Dani nods, confused when Jamie grins. 

“What?”

“I think,” Jamie says placidly, “this is the first time I’ve seen you out of pastels. Suits you.”

Dani glances down. The threadbare black t-shirt bears a jagged white London Calling in peeling letters. She can’t help smiling.

“Maybe I’m a secret punk fan.”

“Are you?” Jamie sounds interested. Dani shakes her head.

“Sorry, no. Always open to learning, though.”

Here it is again: that funny, twisting feeling in her stomach that says she is at home with Jamie. That Jamie is easy and warm, despite the anger simmering somewhere deep down and a tendency toward cropping her sentences with swear words. That Jamie has opened her home to Dani only because Jamie has opened to her, on some level neither of them is entirely sure how to approach. 

“Thank you,” she says, because it’s easier than putting this feeling into words. “For all of this. You didn’t have to.”

Jamie shrugs. “Wanted to. You haven’t had an easy couple of days. Sometimes, a little quiet goes a long way.”

She’s seated on the arm of the couch, bare feet dangling an inch off the floor. Looking at her, Dani can’t entirely wrap her mind around the idea that she’s only known this woman for a couple of days. That she doesn’t, in fact, know much of anything about her at all. 

And still, when Jamie rises and begins arranging pillow and blanket on the couch, Dani’s stomach performs a backflip she’d never come close to feeling with Eddie.

“That’s really kind of you,” she says, the words a blind effort to distract from her trembling hands. “I really don’t need much, you don’t have to go to any trouble--”

Jamie glances over her shoulder. “No trouble. Bed’s just that way.”

Dani turns to look. Sure enough, behind a pulled-back curtain, she can just make out Jamie’s mattress and frame. “I--I mean, I won’t be bothering you, if that’s what you--”

“What?” Straightening, Jamie frowns. “No, I mean, it’s yours. Take it. I sleep on the couch half the goddamn time anyway, it’s no--”

“I am not,” Dani interrupts, “taking your bed, Jamie.”

Not since her last argument with Miles has she been engaged in such a standoff. Jamie, still holding a pillow, looks ready to chain herself to the couch. Dani, heady with the inescapable awareness of Jamie’s shampoo rinsed out of her own hair, can’t have that. It’s too much. Clothes and space and ride--all of that, she can accept. But foisting Jamie from her own bed?

“I’m not doing it,” she says. Her arms are folded, her mouth pulling into a smile she can’t for her life shake. “I’m told I'm very stubborn, so you might as well just let me have that couch now.”

“I--” For the first time all night, Jamie seems to be at a loss. “I’m--aiming for chivalry, here, Poppins.”

“You’ve been nothing less,” Dani assures her. “A white knight, really. But I’m afraid this is where I have to draw the line.”

“I sleep on it all the time.”

“So, it’s my turn.”

Jamie’s whole face seems on edge of some kind of collapse--though into laughter or upset, Dani can’t begin to guess. She has a brief flash of possibility, the two of them standing on either side of the couch all night, arguing well into daylight over who ought to take the proper night’s sleep.

“You’ve got kids to handle in the morning,” Jamie says reasonably, proving her point.

“You spent all day working in the sun,” Dani volleys in return. She thinks for a moment, then adds, “Also, I knocked you into a puddle earlier, and you didn’t get a nice warm bath.”

“Didn’t need one.” Jamie looks exasperated. “Poppins, come on. This doesn’t have to be a big bloody deal.”

It doesn’t, Dani agrees. It really doesn’t. All Jamie has to do is step out of the way, step behind that curtain, put herself to bed where she belongs.

Or, alternatively--

It’s coming out of her mouth before she can stop it. Before she can run through all the reasons not to suggest this very thing. Before she can pin down the butterflies having a dogfight in her stomach and make a decision based in good judgment. 

“Look, if you’re that committed to making me sleep in the bed, come join me.”

Jamie nearly drops the pillow. Her calm has utterly vacated the flat, leaving behind a woman who looks--if Dani isn’t much mistaken--much nearer to frantic than she’s ever seen Jamie before. Much nearer to the kind of nervous Dani had been on the ride over. 

“I,” she says. “That--I shouldn’t--”

“It’s the best compromise,” Dani says, trying to sound reasonable. Trying to sound as though the invitation to share Jamie’s bed isn’t making her entire body run with sudden electricity. “Neither of us is very big, I’m sure we can fit.”

“I’m--sure we can.” Jamie is grimacing. Jamie looks pained. If she had an elegant way out, Dani would take it back simply to erase that look from Jamie’s face, a look that says Jamie would rather sleep in her tiny bathtub than wherever Dani is. 

Elegant way out, she can’t find, and she’s tired. Tired, and buzzing with nerves, and somehow, the au pair wins out over all possible variants of Dani Clayton. “It isn’t that bad an idea,” she says, her voice steady. “I don’t even snore.”

This breaks something open between them. She can’t put her finger on just what it is, or why, but suddenly Jamie is laughing, and Dani is grinning, and she knows the stalemate is at its end. It’s been too long a night. There’s just no point.

“Here,” she adds, settling at the edge of the bed, watching Jamie switch off the lights and creep closer as though trying not to startle a skittish animal. “I’ll lay right on the edge, you won’t even have to know I’m here--”

“Don’t be silly,” Jamie says. She hesitates; Dani wonders if she’s giving a final chance for Dani to shoo her away, to choose a night spent alone after all. She thumps the bedspread with a flat palm, staring meaningfully at Jamie until the mattress sinks beneath the weight of au pair and gardener alike. 

“See?” she can’t stop herself saying. “We fit.”

Jamie stares at her, a lingering gaze Dani couldn’t decipher on her best day. She opts to ignore it, stretching out under the rumpled covers. Beside her, Jamie slides a hand beneath her head, staring up at the ceiling. 

“Not so bad,” Dani says, wishing she could shut up, wishing she could stop thinking--about Jamie’s head on the pillow beside her, about Jamie’s scent sunk into this pillow, about the indent of Jamie’s body in this old mattress where maybe no one else has ever lain. Jamie makes a low sound in her chest. 

“Long day.”

“So long.” Was it only this morning Dani was having a small panic attack, the strain of a new job on top of familiar guilt too heavy to bear? Was it only this afternoon she’d grabbed Jamie’s shoulder, pulled her back from storming off to skin Miles alive?

Was it really only this evening she’d stalked out after Peter Quint, crashed headlong into Jamie, listened to police officers warn them all away from the manor in a blackout?

Jamie clears her throat. Dani’s starting to think it’s a nervous habit--Jamie seems to do it only around her. Why on earth would I make her nervous? “Comfortable?” she asks the ceiling. Dani nods. 

In the dark, the bed seems smaller. The pillows are touching, the blankets bridging the brief gap between Jamie’s right leg and Dani’s left. In the dark, Jamie’s breath is audible, the smell of rain and shampoo and clean clothes twisting together into a single knot. 

In the dark, Dani thinks, they could be anyone. Not gardener and au pair, but anyone, bound by a single unpredictable night. 

She wonders if they should talk--about Peter Quint, about the tension of the evening, about the kids, or the roses, or any number of little odd moments around the manor. She wonders if Jamie expects her to ask questions--who Quint is, what he was to Rebecca Jessel, what he might be doing skulking around the house. 

She can’t quite find it in her. It’s too warm, too soft, the silence as inviting as the rustle of Jamie’s borrowed clothes against her skin. Laying in the dark, Jamie’s foot nearly touching her own, listening to the storm pound the windowpanes, Dani is breathing easier than she has in months. 

“I’m glad,” she says quietly, “you’re here.”

Jamie’s head rustles the pillowcase, turning to look at her. “Yeah?”

Dani smiles. “Yeah. I can’t explain it, but I feel...safer.” Something sharpens behind her ribcage, something that begs her to add, With Hannah, with Owen, with the kids, too. She doesn’t. It’s true, but it’s also not really what she means. 

“He doesn’t know where to find you,” Jamie says, and for a moment, Dani wonders how she could possibly be talking about Eddie. Then Jamie adds, “I hate that fucker. So does Owen. Everyone is safe tonight.”

Right. Peter Quint. Of course. “I’m glad,” Dani repeats. She feels the mattress shift as Jamie carefully settles in. “Jamie?”

“Mm?”

Too many things to say. Too many questions to ask. Too many of those butterflies winging around as Jamie’s elbow bumps her, as Jamie’s breath brushes her cheek. She shuts her eyes, the simple image of Jamie’s gaze inches away too much to handle. 

“Thank you.”

“Anytime, Poppins,” Jamie murmurs. And though Dani’s heart is racing, though her skin is hot, though the storm outside is brutal and Jamie’s bed is much smaller than she’d thought--she finds herself relaxing. Finds herself thoughtlessly shifting to a more comfortable position on her side. Finds herself, even, leaning in toward Jamie’s warmth as the sound of her breathing shallows. 

For the first time in what feels like years, Dani Clayton sleeps.

[today-only-happens-once]

out of focus

title: out of focus

word count: 3955

summary: 

The actions of a Fire Nation admiral during a meeting causes some problems for Sokka. The words of that admiral causes some problems for Zuko. They try to take care of each other. 

“What did the admiral mean,” Sokka blurts out without really thinking about it, “when he talked about insubordination?” 

Zuko freezes, the rag half-out of the bowl and his other hand still bracing Sokka’s (not quite holding it… far too gentle to be holding it). “What—uh. I, uh.” Zuko stops. Takes a breath. Tries again. He still doesn’t look up at Sokka. “When I was younger, I spoke out at a meeting.”

Warnings: burns (description of), violence, threats of violence, discussion of canonical child abuse, characters curse but no curse words are written, character is non-permanently injured, yelling/arguing, trauma

A/N: me? writing a zukka AtLA fic and posting it an hour short of midnight? Apparently, it’s more likely that you’d think. 

Read on AO3

--

Zuko has the patience of a saint, Sokka thinks to himself.

It’s an unusual thought, he realizes. A year ago, if you’d told Sokka that he’d come to think of the Banished Prince as ‘patient’, he’d probably have thrown his boomerang at you. A year ago, Zuko was one of the most short-tempered people he knew. A year ago, Zuko was the face of the enemy.

A lot changes in a year.

Sokka barely stifles a frustrated sigh. The attempt does not seem to go unnoticed by Zuko, who glances at him quickly before the corner of his mouth twitches with something like amusement. The meeting had been going on for hours, and Sokka can’t help but feel that very little progress on the treaty had been made. It wasn’t for lack of trying, Sokka knows, but war leaves messy problems in its wake. He knows that both the literal and metaphorical shrapnel left behind by a century of conflict can’t be swept away in a night or a week or a month.

It doesn’t make these meetings any easier to sit through.

“I want immediate release of all prisoners of war,” an Earth Kingdom ambassador demands.

“I second that,” Sokka hears his father--sitting across the table from him--add, a bit more calmly but no less firm. “I have men in those prisons that haven’t seen their family in a decade.”

“Of course,” Zuko replies at the same time a Fire Nation soldier snaps, “absolutely not.”

Zuko levels a hard look at him. “Admiral, people who were arrested as prisoners of war have no need to remain so after the war has ended.” He looks to Hakoda, then to the Earth Kingdom ambassador. “I’ll draft that mandate tonight and will ensure it’s circulation as soon as possible.”

“This is an outrage!” The slam of a fist against the table makes Sokka’s hand fly to the boomerang strapped to his hip instinctively. The admiral is on his feet.

“Admiral,” Zuko says, his voice steely as he rises from his own chair. The Fire Nation soldier cuts him off.

“Where is the justice for the Fire Nation families whose sons and daughters were slaughtered by those criminals?”

“Admiral--”

“I remember a time when you cared about Fire Nation soldiers! And it’s hard to believe you’ve forgotten, seeing as you ought to be reminded every time you look in the mirror--”

“Enough!” Zuko snaps. “You will watch your tongue or you will be escorted out. You approach insubordination.”

“You are a child,” the admiral sneers. “Though one that ought to know a thing or two about insubordination, given your father’s attempts to brand you with a permanent reminder of its consequences--”

“Warriors!”

“Then again, he always was twice the leader you will never be. Long live the Phoenix King!”

Sokka sees the warning signs—the slight shift of weight, the clench of the man’s fists—and leaps to his feet. “Zuko--!”

“Sokka!”

There’s a blinding light and scorching heat. Sokka feels something slam onto his shoulder and he dives instinctively for cover as the familiar roar of a fireball explodes in front of him. The flames are bright and lick around him, and Sokka throws a hand up to protect his face. He blinks the spots from his vision as he yanks his boomerang out of his belt.

Zuko is standing beside him, his stance ready and his hand outstretched, having evidently dispelled the fireball that had been launched at him. Sokka leaps back up to his feet and hurls the boomerang in his hands towards the Admiral, hitting his hand right as he moves to launch another attack and forcing it to go wide. A burst of flames slam against the wall to the left.

The room is in chaos.

Sokka barely hears the shouts of alarm and curses over the roar of dying flames. He sees his father, already on his feet, diving underneath a bolt of red fire. Across the room, the Earth Kingdom ambassador jerks their hand. There’s a rumble in the ground before it rises and anchors around the Admiral’s feet, holding him in place.

Sokka sees the admiral’s gaze meet his own and narrow. The Fire Nation soldier bares his teeth in a snarl, his fist shooting out. Before Sokka can blink, Zuko steps in front of him, dispelling the flames just as the door ricochets open. Two Kyoshi Warriors flood in and in a series of quick strikes, the admiral drops. Awake, but limp.

Sokka thinks idly that he’s grateful that Ty Lee taught them how to block chi.

“Your father should have killed you that day!” the admiral shouts as he’s dragged through the doors. “He showed mercy on your pathetic, worthless—” the door slamming shut cuts him off.

The silence that follows makes Sokka’s ears ring. He can still feel stale adrenaline coursing through him, his heartbeat pounding in his chest. For a moment, nobody moves. Zuko awkwardly clears his throat.

“Apologies for the, uh, disruption. It shouldn’t happen again.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Firelord Zuko,” Hakoda assures him, but there’s something odd in his father’s expression when he looks at Zuko that Sokka doesn’t understand.

Zuko says something in response, but Sokka doesn’t catch it. As the adrenaline bleeds out of him, his muscles relaxing, Sokka realizes that his fists are still clenched. Sokka forces them to relax, and hisses as it sends a jolt of hot pain through his left hand. When he looks down, he realizes that the skin on the top of part of his hand near his knuckles is a blistering, angry red.

Sokka’s hiss doesn’t go unnoticed. Zuko looks at him over his shoulder, his brows drawn together in confusion before his eyes fall to Sokka’s hand. Then, they go wide.

Zuko turns back around suddenly to address the room, his back straighter. “We will adjourn the meeting for the afternoon. We will reconvene tomorrow.”

“Firelord Zuko—” an ambassador from the Northern Water Tribe protests, but Hakoda interrupts him.

“I think we could all use a breather, Kovrik. Coming back tomorrow with a clear head is a good decision.”

“Yes… yes, I suppose that’s fair.”

Sokka is finding it increasingly difficult to follow the conversation. His hand hurts, and it’s taking every last drop of his willpower and pride to grit his teeth and swallow back the whimper that wants to push up his throat. It’s not until Zuko’s face is taking up his entire field of vision that Sokka realizes everyone but the two of them and his father have left the room.

“Let me see,” Zuko says quietly, then curses under his breath when he looks at Sokka’s hand. “Where’s Katara when you need her.”

“Do you have anything that can help?” Hakoda asks from behind Zuko.

“Yes, sir,” Zuko replies, his brows still furrowed in concentration. “Though it’s not quite as immediate as waterbending healers. But it should help with the pain, and prevent infection. Follow me.”

Sokka feels Zuko take his elbow and guide him out the door of the meeting room and down the hall. He’s distantly aware that Zuko is moving quickly—not quite a jog, but only barely shy of it—through a network of corridors. His hand feels like it might still be on fire, and Sokka looks down at it again just to be sure that’s not actually the case. He tells himself that he’s endured injuries more painful than this. The broken leg was worse, he thinks, though it does little to actually help with the burning sensation in his hand.

He’s vaguely aware that Zuko says something quickly to two guards that are flanking a set of doors before he rushes in. Sokka looks up and realizes it’s Zuko’s chambers. He’d only been in here a couple of times before, largely while Zuko was still recovering from Azula’s lightning strike in the weeks following the end of the war.

“Wait here,” Zuko tells him before disappearing through another door on the far side of the room.

“You had good reflexes in there,” Sokka hears his father’s low, soothing voice speak up. He’d had almost forgotten he was there. Hakoda moves the chair that had been beside the bed closer to Sokka in a clear direction to sit down.

“Lots of practice,” Sokka replies as he sits. He hisses a little again as his hand flares and grits out a swear behind clenched teeth.

“Easy,” Hakoda says softly. He places a bracing, comforting hand between Sokka’s shoulder blades. It’s grounding, and he’s grateful.

“Wish Katara was here,” Sokka tells him, echoing Zuko’s comment from earlier.

“I know. Unfortunately, I don’t think she’s coming to Caldera for a while. She’s still in Ba Sing Se with Aang.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Her magic water comes in handy though.” Sokka gives his father a tight smile. “Get it? Hand-y?”

Hakoda snorts just as the door opens again. Zuko has his arms full of a large bowl, his hands fisting a few vials and some bandages. There’s something pinched about Zuko’s expression, and the way he doesn’t meet Sokka’s eyes as he kneels in front of him feels odd. The bowl is full of water, Sokka realizes, as he sets it on the ground and begins to empty the vials into it.

“Can I see your hand?” Zuko asks, and the question—for some reason—catches him off guard.

Sokka blinks. “Yeah. Sure.” He grimaces as he places his hand in Zuko’s, but the excessive gentleness surprises him so much that Sokka almost forgets that his hand hurts.

Zuko was many things, but Sokka can’t remember a time—even after he started to get along with the Fire Prince—that he would have described Zuko as gentle. But his grip on Sokka’s hand is careful. Almost excessively so.  

Zuko hums in the back of his throat as he inspects the burns. “I don’t think it’ll have permanent damage,” he says quietly. “But I still need to treat it so it doesn’t get infected. It… might hurt, a little. But then it should feel better.”

“No permanent damage. That’s good,” Sokka says. He swallows, and nods. “Okay.”

For a long moment, the only sounds that fills the room is the quiet splash of water in the bowl as Zuko submerges the cloth rag again and wrings it out. Sokka lets his gaze float around the room.

Zuko has left it mostly bare. There’s a portrait of Iroh and a woman that Sokka remembers being the Fire Lady—Zuko’s mother—hanging on the wall near the headboard of the bed. On the dresser beside it is a drawing that Sokka did of the group of them months ago. He sees a pile of papers on the desk across the room. He thinks one of them has Aang’s signature at the bottom, but it’s too far away for him to know for sure.

Bright, painful heat searing his hand slams his attention back to Zuko in front of him and Sokka yelps, yanking his hand away. Zuko grimaces, retracing his own hand.

“I’m sorry,” he says, sounding more earnest than Sokka expects. “This part is painful, but it’ll stop hurting in a minute.”

Sokka fights to pull his breathing back under his control. In through his nose, out through his mouth. “Right,” he manages, his voice tight. “Right, sorry.”

“Don’t be. I know it hurts.”

Something about that line—and about the fact that Zuko still hasn’t met his eyes since returning from the other room—drags Sokka’s thoughts back to the conversation in the treaty meeting. There were several things that the admiral had said to Zuko that Sokka didn’t quite understand. He could only remember pieces of things said, but they repeat in Sokka’s head like disjointed pieces of a puzzle that he can’t quite make fit together.

seeing as you ought to be reminded every time you look in the mirror… insubordination… your father’s attempts to brand you… consequences…

Sokka’s gaze falls back to Zuko, dutifully bowed in front of him. There had long been pieces about Zuko that Sokka had found puzzling. Things about him that didn’t quite fit together. Sokka considers himself a person pretty good at figuring out how things worked together, and that extended (with less success) to figuring out how parts of people make up the sum of their whole.

Zuko, though… Zuko had always been something of a mystery. But as the words of the admiral ricochet in his mind, there’s a picture beginning to come together that is still just a little too hazy, a little too out of focus, to fill in the spaces that Sokka felt were missing.

“What did the admiral mean,” Sokka blurts out without really thinking about it, “when he talked about insubordination?”

Zuko freezes, the rag half-out of the bowl and his other hand still bracing Sokka’s (not quite holding it… far too gentle to be holding it). “What—uh. I, uh.” Zuko stops. Takes a breath. Tries again. He still doesn’t look up at Sokka. “When I was younger, I spoke out at a meeting.”

Sokka’s brow furrows as Zuko presses the rag to the back of his hand again. Sokka realizes that his hand has stopped hurting, but he’s too preoccupied with what Zuko said to pay it much mind. “After the stuff at Ba Sing Se? When you went home?”

“No, I, uh.” Zuko clears his throat. “Before that. Before… yeah. Earlier.”

Your father’s attempts to brand you…

“What happened?” Sokka asks. The way Zuko’s shoulders seem to tense doesn’t escape his attention, and there’s a part of him that wonders if perhaps he shouldn’t have asked. But it also feels like a question that once asked, is too late to take back.

Zuko pats Sokka’s hand dry with another towel and begins to gingerly wrap a bandage around it. He keeps his gold gaze steady on the work. Sokka keeps his gaze steady on Zuko.

“My uncle allowed me to attend a war meeting where they were talking about some battle strategies to use against an Earth Kingdom battalion. There was a general that wanted our newest fleet to serve as a distraction while we mounted an attack from the rear,” Zuko begins. There’s something off about his voice, though. Something detached and careful. He keeps wrapping the bandage. Around and around and around.

Sokka frowns. “That’s not fair,” he says. “Your newest recruits? They’d be slaughtered by an experienced battalion like that.”

Zuko sighs, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Exactly,” he says in a low voice. “And that’s what I told them. I wasn’t thinking. I just… yelled at him.” Sokka opens his mouth to disagree—it sounds like Zuko was thinking, unlike anybody else at that meeting—but Zuko cuts him off as he secures the end of the bandage to Sokka’s palm. “My father didn’t… take it well. I was challenged to an Agni Kai, and I thought I would be facing the general in it, so I accepted.”

Zuko gathers the bowl and empty vials as he stands, crossing the room to set them on the edge of his desk. Sokka stands up slowly as Zuko does so. The pieces that had been out of focus for so long are starting to come together, and Sokka feels his stomach rolling with a leaden weight against what he can sense is coming.

“No…”

“It wasn’t the general,” Zuko continues, his voice so quiet that Sokka is sure he would have missed it if it hadn’t been dead silence around them. “It was my father.”

“You faced your father in an Agni Kai?”

“Not exactly. I…” Zuko stares down into the bowl of water beside him, his gaze distant. “I couldn’t fight my own father. Instead, I begged him for forgiveness. I was met with a fistful of flames.”

Zuko gestures vaguely at his face, and Sokka’s blood turns to ice.

“He…” Sokka’s throat closes, cutting off the rest of that sentence. All this time being chased by Zuko—all this time being friends with him—and he’d always assumed that the scar was the result of a training accident, or a fight with a firebender he lost. Sokka thinks bitterly and viciously that the second assumption wasn’t far off but his own father—

“I was banished after that,” Zuko says, and his voice is hollow and empty and wrong. And he finally, finally, meets Sokka’s gaze. “I was told to bring the Avatar back and all would be forgiven, or to not come back at all. That was before you and your sister woke Aang up from the iceberg.”

Sokka stands very, very still. He glances down and realizes his hands are trembling. He curls the non-bandaged one into a fist to get the shaking to stop. “How old were you?” he asks, and he doesn’t know why—of everything he could say—that’s the question that tumbles past his lips, but he feels like it matters.

“Thirteen.”

“Thir—” Sokka cuts himself off, scrubbing a hand across his mouth and swallowing hard. “Thirteen. Tui and La, when I was thirteen—”

Sokka breaks off again, his throat closing, his gaze falling to his father. When Sokka was thirteen, his father had left to go fight in the war and told Sokka he couldn’t come along. He’d protected Sokka, and though Sokka had found his way into fighting in the war regardless a few years later, he knows his father had only been trying to keep him safe. The idea of his own father striking him—let alone with a fist full of flames to his face—was incomprehensible.

Hakoda doesn’t look back at Sokka. His gaze is trained on Zuko, and there’s something in his eyes that Sokka doesn’t quite understand. But he’s seen it before. It was the same look Hakoda wears when he hears other water tribe soldiers recount war stories. The late-night ones. The ones where their voices betray the weight on their shoulders and tremble with the generations of nightmares on their backs.

Sokka takes a sudden, faltering step forward, and Zuko instinctively tenses. Sokka freezes. “Zuko…”

Zuko shakes his head. He coughs a little, as if trying to clear his throat. “Anyway. That’s—that’s what the admiral was talking about.”

“You…” Sokka tries again, his voice carrying just the barest hints of hysteria. “You were his kid.”

“Yeah, well.” Zuko’s gaze meets Sokka’s again. “He spent most of my life wishing I wasn’t.”

“Zuko,” Hakoda speaks up, his voice a low, soothing rumble to Sokka’s trembling nerves. “I… hope you understand that you didn’t deserve that.”

“I know, sir,” he replies, sounding steadier than Sokka feels. Sokka feels a little like the ground has shifted beneath his feet as he stares at his friend across the room. Zuko continues, frustratingly calm. “It… I didn’t at first. It took me a long time to understand that it was wrong of my father to do that. But I know now.”

“Where is he?” Sokka demands, flushing with a sudden and intense fury.

Zuko blinks, looking taken aback by the vehemence charged through Sokka’s voice like a steel rod. “Where’s who?”

“Ozai.”

“Sokka, what are you gonna do? Fight him? He already lost.”

“Against Aang, not against—did Aang even know?”

Zuko’s brow furrows and he rubs the back of his neck. “Um. I guess I don’t know. I never told him. I… never told any of you.”

“Yeah—and what’s that about, huh?” Sokka demands. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Sokka,” Hakoda warns, but Sokka’s words are already bubbling up throat and spilling past his lips, hot and bitter and angry.

“What, did you think we wouldn’t care? That it wouldn’t matter?”

“It doesn’t matter!” Zuko waves a hand towards the window that overlooks the courtyard. “My father already lost to the Avatar, Sokka. The war is over. The fighting is over. Aang took his bending. And that—I don’t know about you, but that’s the best, most justified end to his legacy I can think of.”

Sokka is still shaking. He can’t explain why. He knows, logically, that Zuko is right. He’s right. But Sokka can still feel his hands shaking, can still feel his heart hammering in his ribs with the urge to run something through with sword, can still feel the way his eyes sting with tears he won’t let fall. Sokka clenches his jaw and rips his gaze away from Zuko out towards the window, where he can see the sun setting on the horizon and painting the palace courtyard in an orange light.

“Wherever he is, I hope he rots,” Sokka says finally, and yet it still doesn’t feel like enough. “He deserves worse.”

Sokka looks back at Zuko, whose gaze is a little wide. He looks… taken aback. Sokka cocks an eyebrow.

“Don’t tell me you disagree—"

“No,” Zuko replies, shaking his head. “I just… Nothing.” The corner of his mouth tugs upwards in the barest hint of a smile. Sokka doesn’t understand why, just like he doesn’t understand why it uncoils the tight knot of burning anger in his chest.

Sokka takes a deep breath. Wills himself to relax. It helps… a little. There’s a beat, and then Sokka hears his father take a step forward. “Thank you for helping Sokka’s hand, Firelord Zuko.”

Zuko blinks, and Sokka swears his cheeks take a faint pink tint as he rubs the back of his neck. “Oh. Uh, of course, sir. And… just Zuko is fine.”

Sokka glances over and sees Hakoda smile, inclining his head. “Understood.” He looks to Sokka. “I should draft a letter to Bato tonight to update him on the treaty. Will you be okay without me?”

Sokka rolls his eyes teasingly. “Yeah, dad. I think I can manage.”

Hakoda squeezes his shoulder, nods to Zuko again, and quietly slips out of the room. The silence afterward seems to stretch, and Sokka feels the lingering tension bleeding out of him as he looks at Zuko, who quietly shuffles through the papers on his desk. Sokka watches him for a beat, his gaze lingering a little on the scarred tissue across his face. Sokka swallows.

There are other questions Sokka thinks he could ask. Like why—after doing that—Zuko was still so bent on returning home to his father. But there’s a part of Sokka that thinks he maybe understands.

Spirits know that he understood what it was like to crave the approval of your father.

“Hey,” he says, and Zuko’s gaze snaps over to him. “I… thank you for telling me. I… know that wasn’t easy, and… it means a lot that you trust me with that.”

“It… it wasn’t a question of trust, you know,” Zuko replies quietly, averting his gaze. “Not telling you, I mean. It was just—”

“I know,” Sokka says, and means it. “But I also know what it’s like to have things you don’t necessarily… want to relive. So it means a lot that you told me.”

The corner of Zuko’s mouth twitches again. He takes a deep, slow breath. “Thank you for listening,” he says.

“I like to think I’m a pretty good listener,” Sokka teases, shrugging.

“You are,” Zuko says, with far more sincerity than Sokka felt was warranted for what he’d meant to be a joke. Sokka blinks at him, and Zuko clears his throat, ducking his head a little. “I was thinking of getting some tea. There’s a place just outside the palace. It’s not as good as Uncle’s, but um. Did you want to come?”

“Yeah,” Sokka replies with a small smile. “I could use a cup of tea.”  

[an-anticlimactic-bass-drop]

Tall Part 2/?

Prompt: Tech is too tall for his own good. Constantly hitting his head on objects and desks as he works on projects. The other bad batchers make fun of him for this but you find it endearing.

Tech X Reader

Slow Burn/ Angst

Warnings: Mild 1.11 Spoilers, Deviates from canon

Word Count: 1.5K

Part 2/?

partly inspired by this gif 

(it won’t let me put it in but its the one of tech catching omega)

Omega nudges you awake from where you are napping in the pilot’s seat. The small girl’s blonde head peeks over the arm of the chair as she looks out the window. 

“Look!”

The sounds of explosions and blaster fire are erupting from the city center a few klicks away. You quickly lean forward and start firing up the takeoff controls for the Marauder. You are sure your boys are the ones behind the explosions and you smile gently as you imagine Wrecker’s gleeful expression as you see a cloud of smoke rise into the air in the distance.  They can’t be too far off if the nearing sounds of blaster fire are any indicators. Omega rushes to the landing ramp as Hunter’s voice crackles in through the comms. 

“Omega! Get ready to bring the senator aboard!” Hunter sounds a little winded and Wrecker cackles in the background as another explosion rocks the tunnel they were in. You remember the new security system Tech put in place and shake the last cobwebs of your nap out of your mind as you recall the specifications that he had told you about before leaving. Your hands fly across the panels as you disarm the system and lower the landing ramp. You head to the ramp as Omega jumps up and down waving at the men as they trek towards the ship. 

“Ladies! Meet the newest passenger of the Havoc Marauder, Senator Avi Singh.” Hunter introduced you to the senator and you looked him up and down. The senator doesn’t look like he’s all that happy to be leaving his planet in the hands of the Imperials. Singh is wringing his hands and has a look of worry on his face. 

“I should not leave my people. They need me here!” The senator says quietly. Echo leans in with a hand on the senator’s shoulder. 

“If you stay here you will be hunted down and murdered. It is better to live to fight another day than to die unnecessarily.” The clone looks almost defeated as he tells the senator this. Singh’s shoulders slump forward as he takes one last look around his planet before boarding the ship, nodding in agreement at Echo’s words. 

The trip back to Cid’s bar was uneventful to say the least. The senator and his droid are quietly sitting in the cargo hold. You offered him a cup of caf earlier but he graciously declined. The men are scattered around the ship as hyperspace speeds by. Echo and Hunter are attempting to sleep in the bunks while Wrecker and Omega are playing Saabac on the box that functions as a makeshift table. You just poured yourself a piping hot cup of the precious brown liquid that keeps you going through bouts of insomnia caused by the nightmares and the general lifestyle of the Bad Batch. Wandering up towards the cockpit, you aren’t expecting to trip over Tech’s long legs that are stretched out into the aisle. 

“Kriff!” Tech curses as your cup spills slightly onto the top of his blacks. He slides out from the wall he was buried in and starts looking around for a towel to wipe the hot caf off of his shirt. 

“Sorry! I didn’t see you there!” You frantically bend down to help him. You grab one of his grease rags from the toolbox you notice off to the side and dab at the stain on his shirt. 

“No worries. I will be fine.” Tech strips off his shirt and you swear you can feel the temperature of the air heat up several degrees as you realize just how close you are to the taller clone. “There. No harm done. Would you mind putting this in the laundry for me? I need to finish this last bit of wiring before heading back to check on the flightpath.” You flush as you tear your eyes away from the bare chest of the man in front of you. 

“Hm? Sorry! I’ll just get right on that.” You hurry away with the stained shirt and a blush on your face. You left your cup of caf on the floor near where Tech was working. He let out a small chuckle as he steals your drink. Not his fault if you left it in your hurry. 

The ship lands back at Cid’s bar without incident. The senator thanks you all graciously and departs into Cid’s office to discuss payment. Wrecker and Omega not so sneakily sneak off to get Mantell mix and Echo follows them at a distance to make sure they stay out of trouble. Tech goes to the bar to get a drink and you sit beside him to discuss the mission. You flush as you think about the previous night on the ship and you clench your jaw to avoid licking your lips at the thought of the bare chest of the taller clone next to you. You aren’t ashamed to say you dreamed of the expanse of skin and what it might taste like while you were in your bunk after that episode last night. 

“Am I boring you? I can stop if you would like.” Tech looks concerned as you zone back into reality and realize you have been watching him with a blank expression for a beat too long. You blink in surprise as you shake away the untamed thoughts that have been plaguing your mind. You really can’t be anymore obvious in your crush can you? At this point you might as well have a giant sign that follows you around that says “This person has a crush on the tall nerdy one!” 

“No!” You exclaim a little too loudly and get some irritated looks from the other patrons of the bar. “Sorry I'm just distracted today. The mission has me a little rattled. I am not used to being that deep into enemy space.” You say in a quieter tone.

“We are also not used to it. I always knew we would make it to Raxus someday however I never thought about it being to save the seperatist leader. Echo was most displeased about the idea and protested greatly. I tried to convince him that it was just a job and we need to pay off our debt to Cid but he does not see it this way.” Tech seems saddened at his brother’s inability to see the mission without the politics. You can see Echo’s point of view and point out to Tech that Echo’s trauma probably makes it hard for him to trust the separatists seeing as they had kidnapped and tortured him for 2 years before he was rescued. 

“The Techno Union treated him like a computer! An algorithm! Barely even human! I really don’t blame Echo for not trusting the separatists. He has barely recovered from the trauma of being in that machine for so long. He is still really pale and frail and you haven’t finished working on his new limbs yet so he still has the prosthetics they forced on him. Speaking of which, if you need help working on those I am always available. He has every reason to be upset about this mission.” 

You are fully involved in the discussion and don’t hear Echo and the others enter the bar as they make their way over to you and Tech. Echo catches the tail end of the conversation and tries to announce their presence with a small cough that turned into a hacking one that left Omega looking concerned. Her big round eyes are full of unspoken worry as she gazes up at him. Echo glances down at the young girl and forces a smile, patting her head. 

“I am fine little one. Don’t worry about me.” He says reassuringly.

Hunter leaves Cid’s office with her and the Senator. He comes over to where the group has gathered and steals Tech’s abandoned drink. He chugs the rest of it and gestures for the group to follow as he heads back to the ship.  Tech stands up and offers his hand to you to help you off of the bar stool. He has a habit of making sure none of the Bad Batchers fall over, a habit he has picked up from their upbringing on Kamino where the other 3 clones were not the best balanced due to their enhanced abilities. Your face flushes again as you become uncomfortably aware of how close you two have gotten during the conversation. He leans away from your touch as if he also hadn’t realized how close you two had gotten. Tech turns to follow Hunter out the door and has to stoop a little to avoid hitting the door frame, Echo cracking a quiet joke about not having to worry about hitting the top of door frames since he lost a few inches. Only Omega and you caught the joke and you give a chuckle as Omega just looks confused. 

“The legs you see? Lost a few inches? Oh well.” Echo gave up on explaining the joke to the kid and followed Wrecker out the door towards the ship. 

Once back on the ship Hunter announces that they have been given a few days off courtesy of Cid since the mission went so smoothly. The other bad batchers glance at each other, not sure of what to do with their new time off.  You were pretty sure they have never had free time in their entire life.

“We could visit Cut and Suu? See how they are settling in!” Suggests Omega. 

“Too dangerous for them. We attract too much attention. The last thing they need is to be recognized as republic sympathizers.” reasons Tech. 

“I think we deserve a few days of downtime! We can take a well deserved vacation and rest up before the next mission.” you say as you pour a cup of caf from the pot Tech started when you arrived back at the ship. “We can get some repairs done on the ship and maybe even explore the city! I know Omega has been dying to go to the museums in the city center since we got here and I'm sure you boys would enjoy it too.” 

Hunter thinks for a moment and nods in agreement. 

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

Taglist: @haloangel391 @m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s

[lovecinnatwist]

How would you go about writing omega Jason with Alpha Dick?

Man oh man- Omega!Jason with Alpha!Dick is always such a bop.

It depends really! I see so many fics with insecure Jason thinking Dick is too good for him which is nice and definitely in character- but sometimes it makes me crave the other end of the spectrum?

Like a confident, sexy Jason who teases Dick with his scent and body until the alpha wants to implode? I also like the idea of Jason being raised by an Omeganist!Alfred and Omega!Talia to be badass, sassy and sensual. Bras? Suppressants? Painful heats?

Not for Jason Todd!

He embraces his Omega-ninity and it wreaks havoc on Dick's hormones. Dick being a more conservative alpha would definitely find himself overwhelmed but enamored!

Here's something playful with a clumsy Alpha!Dick and confident pack Omega!Jason!

Tiddies Out - JayDick

Tags: Omegaverse, AlphaDick, OmegaJason, Pining, Crack treated Seriously, Lactating, Heat Cycles, Omega Tim, Alpha Bruce, Pup Damian- Just Dick being an obvious pining idiot and Jason enjoying his reactions-

Jason doesn’t mind being an omega. How could he when it’s one of the superior options? While Alpha’s often lost themselves to aggression during rutting season and beta’s scrambled to placate them- Omega’s got to sit back and watch the show.

Being the object of an alpha’s fascination has many perks. First off? The gifts. Lavish offerings make their way to him with little to no effort. Weaponry from Talia, Expensive silks and poisons from Ras, The latest tech from Tim and Bruce. It's an endless parade really. One of the few things that make this more bearable to put up with.

He’s a heavy milker. Always has been.

Maybe it’s from growing up in an abusive household. Perhaps it's in response to being closer to the pack’s pups or hell, maybe his body is just gearing up for the imaginary children it wants to have. Regardless of the reason Jason’s tits are aching.

They seem extra tender tonight. The cold dingy air does little to ease the tension under his armor. He shifts and the way his pads squish under bullet proof chest plates is a pain. He curses and tries to ignore it. Something that’s getting harder as the cotton under his clothing reaches its limit. Tsk- 4 hours his ass. It’s barely been 2 and he’s about to make a mess of his gear.

As annoying as it is. He reluctantly reaches into his kit to get two fresh napkins to change. Other omega’s might be shy to do this in public but Jason has always been more practical about it. Breasts are breasts, no reason to get all crazy about it.

Though it probably didn’t hurt that Jason himself had a nice rack. He knows what the other heroes say about him behind his back. His figure has never been more appreciated than now in his prime. The dip in the pit did wonders at helping him bulk up. Thighs thick, emphasising his trim waist. In the throws of season his ample chest gives him an illusion of an hourglass figure. While some people would say omega’s should be small and dainty, he has yet to meet an alpha or beta who can resist him.

Not to be vain but he is nothing else if not attractive.

He’s got his top half way off when the sound of a near violent thud echoes out in the darkness. The hiss of pain gives away the alpha before his scent can. Jason doesn’t even turn in his direction. Instead he keeps his attention on the sopping pads under the compression shirt. He hisses as the gentle adhesive pulls from his throbbing mamories.

“ You alright over there goldie? “

He gets a groan for an answer. A nicer person would have maybe let the other man know about his current state of undress. Too bad that Jason isn’t exactly known for being ‘nice’. He carefully wraps up one cotton cloth. Once he’s clean and dry, he applies another. It’s quick and easy work. The slight chill does wonders against his flush skin.

The worn form of Nightwing crawls from the side of the building. There’s a pretty good bruise on his cheek Jason is 90% sure that the acrobat had a less than graceful landing. He’s always been weird about nudity. Even back when they mostly had the same parts. He rolls his eyes as the man pointedly tries not to look at him. He can’t help scoffing at the false modesty.

“ Hood. You shouldn’t do this out in the open like this. Anyone could see you. “

Everyone knows Jason is an omega, by extension that means Red Hood. It’s one of the reasons why his territory is so well protected. No one wants to cross an omega. While the fangs in their mouths were now more for scruffing kits, no one had forgotten the days when they were for hunting prey and tearing out throats.

He would flash his at Dick but he’s wearing his helmet and would probably just looks stupid. He manages to get the other pad off. It’s absolutely drenched. His left teet is definitely working harder than the right. The sheer weight of the cotton makes a loud squelch as it hits the little plastic bag at his feet.

He snorts. “ And you know what they’d say N? Best tits in Gotham. “

The alpha’s face is anything but amused. The furrow of his brow and spike in his scent is territorial and aggressive. It’s laughable really considering the fact that between the two of them, Jason is actually the one in charge of protecting the pack. It’s all a part of being the lead omega.

Whether Bruce or Dick want to accept it or not.

“ Stop objectifying yourself like that. “

Jason enjoys the feeling of being clean and dry as he gets the other cotton adhesive on. It’s a welcome sensation. Especially when he straightens his armor and it’s a little less chafing and tight.

“ It’s only objectication if I say I’m only a nice pair of tits Wing. Luckily I’ve got a nice set of thighs too.“

He pays Dick no mind as he stands and packs away his used pads to be thrown away later. He might have to call it an early night at the rate. With the way fall is quickly approaching his heat is just dying to make an appearance. Perhaps he could get away with offering himself to the foster system. With the amount of milk he’s making now it would be better for the pups who need it to benefit instead of it all going to the trash.

“ Hood! “ The sound is a scandalized growl. It’s funny enough that Jason throws his head back and laughs free and clear. With the voice modulator it’s mean and menacing. Amusement bubbles in his chest. He can’t help taking off his helmet so that Dick can take in just how wide his smile is.

“ Sorry Wing. I’m a pretty girl. What can I say? “

Talia is nothing but progressive. While many omega’s in the west suffer from low self esteem. Jason learned his worth quickly. Confidence is beauty. The more one loves themselves, adores them selves and takes time to know themselves the more they blossom. It’s a deep healing that not everyone gets to understand. A privilege for a few chosen omegas. He cocks his head and smiles and see’s the exact moment Dick starts losing his footing in the conversation.

The alpha is tongue tied.

“ That’s not what I mean and you know it Hood. “

Jason shrugs. Once he’s got his stuff away he’s ready to run roofs and actually get some work done.

“ Sorry Goldie. It’s 2021 and haven’t you heard? Red Hood says free the tiddies. “

He doesn’t wait for a response as he makes a running start towards the edge of the building. It’s always such a thrill. He tucks a bit to clear the gap. The moment his legs touch the concrete the sound is silent despite the bulk of his frame. Dick calls after him but he loses the words in the wind. Laughter bubbles up in his throat. He wouldn’t be a prude just because his family wanted to be sexually repressed more than they wanted to be happy.

Dick doesn’t try to catch up with him and Jason finishes the night patrolling with Tim and Stephanie.

He manages to get an entire three hours out of the next set of pads. Instead of changing out in the open he accepts Alfred’s invitation back at the manor for a warm bath and cookies. Tim stares at his chest while Jason gets himself decent.

Tim is a gorgeous omega, with a slender petite frame and porcelain doll-like features. He always seems to get shy in the presence of Jason’s more unconventional curves.

Jason knows what low self esteem looks like. The younger omega wears it no matter how much bravo he tries to exude. Jason brushes against him briefly and lightly. His usual fragrance is marshmellowy from the sweetness of milk that clings to it.

There’s an immediate blush as Tim ducks away. Clearly he’s embarrassed from being caught. Though in reality where is the shame in a little boob appreciation amongst omegas?

“ You know Timmy, you gotta stop wearing bras. Maybe if you show a glimpse of those pretty pink nips Kon would take the hint. “

Tim goes red from his ears to his chest. Jason can practically see the steam coming from his ears. He slaps his hands over his petite breast quick enough to hurt. Jason wants to let him scamper off but instead he presses into his space even more. Long gone is the perfume of pup, now that Tim has come fully into his omega hood. Every day his scent leans more and more towards caramel and sugar.

“ Uhg you’re such a jerk. “

Tim tries to dodge out of his hold but Jason gets him anyway. The omega yelps and Jason ducks him right between each swollen peck. They are red and tender from patrol. He hasn’t put on new pads yet so some milk beads at his nipples. The little shriek Tim lets out is hilarious.

“ You’re going to get milk in my hair! Jason stop- God you suck- “

The omega fights and Jason lets him go before the two actually get into it. It’s light and playful. Well for the most part. Tim gets some milk on his face and the teen honest to God looks terrified. He curses all the way to the shower stall to take another quick bath all while Jason cackles at his misfortune.

“ I swear to God, when I start milking I'm going to get you back Ten fold! “

Jason rolls his eyes. As if.The last thing Jason’s afraid of is milk. It’s a natural thing. God everyone in this pack is repressed.

“ We’ll see about that Timberella! “

The omega hisses and Jason has to hold back a laugh as he leaves the shower. He’s so light and high from the interaction that he completely for gos a shirt. Not that he really wants to wear one. Not with how milk heavy and tender his chest is. Alfred’s always been pretty cool about it too. Being from the 60’s and all that jazz.

Jason maybe gets half way through the cave before the sound of metal crashing draws his attention. Dick walks cleanly into one of the metal tables in the middle of the lab space, knocking over tools and gadgets.

Bruce is thoroughly unimpressed from where he’s helping Damian stretch before bed. He’s in half of his costume, suppressors and scent blockers gone. The sheer disappointment in Damian’s gaze is astonishing.

“ Richard, please control yourself. “

The alpha looks like a deer caught in headlights, his mortification absolutely palpable in the air.

Jason does catch his eyes on his chest though. He smirks and sees the moment horror grows in those bright blue eyes. Instead of heading towards the stairs he decides to circle back towards the group.

Bruce chuffs from his position on the floor. He doesn’t stop what he’s doing but does tilt towards him in reverence. It’s been the biggest change in their dynamic. Bruce finally learning to respect Jason as not only a pack mate, but the pack omega. He greets him with a scenting.

Unlike Dick the alpha seems to pay little attention to his milking.

Damian’s puppy nose twitches as he leans towards him. It makes his heart flutter really. While Damian would never ask, Jason has thought of offering his breast many times. While Technically too old for it, they’ve all done their fair share of growing up too quickly. Something that Jason Laments as well as appreciates.

He scents Damian more thoroughly than Bruce, making him bristle. The boy tries to move out of his hold, hands swatting him away.

“ Todd cease your pestering immediately! If I smell of milk my peers will assume I still breastfeed. “

Jason snorts and pulls back from the prickly pup. Bruce gets a stupid fond look on his face and for a brief moment he feels it echoing on his lips.

“ And what’s wrong with that? If your pack omega is milking of course as a pup you’re welcome to it. “

Damian’s green eyes widen a fraction. His mouth opens in disbelief. Clearly, Damian in fact did not know that. Bruce stares as well, his scent turning into a sweet blend of ‘love-admiration-awe’. It draws a shiver up Jason’s spine. The tender mix of affection from his pack blankets over him like a net of spun sugar.

Jason doesn’t know why he feels drawn to look at Dick. The alpha hasn’t said anything in the past minute. He cuts his gaze to the stone still alpha and his heart flutters in excitement. The looks of jealousy and want is so strong that his intentions sparkle clear like aquamarine in shallow ocean waters.

The alpha is so much more honest when he thinks Jason isn’t looking.

He grins at Dick.

The alpha immediately shrinks in shame and embarrassment.

“ And of course any alpha spending my heat with me. “

[wlntrsldler]

okay hear me out the cardigan, betty, august love triagle to reader x fred x angelina i've been thinking about it since folklore came

PROMPT: based on cardigan, betty, and august by taylor swift (an installment of my taylor swift x harry potter series. to read more about it, click here) Y/N and Fred see each other after 7 years and she finally lets him know that she knew that he cheated on her with Angelina all those years ago. (fred lives au lol)

also my submission for @wand3ringr0s3‘s 1.9k follower writing challenge! 

“i knew it was too good to be true.” 

“was in love with you. was.”

WC: 1.5K+

WARNINGS: infidelity, angst

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST

-

cardigan x betty x august (f.w one shot)

“Why did you leave?” 

You froze in your spot when you heard those words come out of Fred’s lips. The party behind the two of you was still in full swing— a party where his sister and her groom were celebrating their undying love for one another; Unbeknownst to them, just a few feet away, was the dying breath of another love. 

You turned to face the man you’d fallen in love with all those years ago. You thought about the years you’ve wasted pining after Fred Weasley, dreaming of him like he was the one who put the stars in the sky. He was your safety blanket, one to cover you with a sense of comfort and belonging in a way that nobody was ever able to. He clouded your judgement until you didn’t know right from wrong anymore, and yet, not once did he take advantage of his hold on you— because he’s a good man. 

And you hated it. 

You hated how even though he was the same man who made you doubt in the power of love; even though he was the man who haunted you in your darkest hours; even though he was the man who laid beside a woman who wasn’t you, tangled in the white sheets while he was supposed to be devoted to you; you still knew he was a good man. 

“You don’t get to ask me questions,” you breathed out, shutting your eyes tightly. You couldn’t look him in the eye, not while his eyes are flaming with anger and suffering. 

“The hell I don’t!” he exclaimed, stomping over to you. His tone was harsh, but even that couldn’t mask the quivering of his words. “Why did you leave me?” 

You finally opened your eyes, after feeling his breath tickling your skin, “You left me first, Fred.” 

His eyebrows furrowed, genuine confusion evident in his features. Fred gulped, blinking a few times, not expecting that answer, “What are you on about?” 

“Angelina Johnson.” 

And just like that, Fred felt his knees grow weak. 

His face paled, all color draining from his once red cheeks. He knows exactly what you were talking about. But he wished he didn’t. 

“Y/N,” he began, his voice turning into a broken whisper, “I-I can explain.” 

“No need,” you dismissed, staring at your feet. You kicked around the grass, sending small pebbles to ripple across the garden. “It’s been years, Fred. It doesn’t matter anymore.” 

“Obviously, it does,” he insisted, stepping closer to you. He couldn’t help but shed a tear when you took a step back. 

You shyly looked at your fingers, unable to look at him in the eyes once more. It has been seven years since you found him sleeping soundly beside Angelina Johnson, right before the war. You confessed your feelings for him a few hours before that night, even going so far as kissing him under the moonlight before you went off to fight in the battle of Hogwarts the next day. You didn’t speak to him the entire time and you left without another word once the war was over. 

“Can we talk about this?” 

“No, Fred,” you hissed, not even bothering to wipe the tears that were falling from your eyes, “Do you know how many times I’ve cried while we were still at Hogwarts because people would whisper about how bloody pathetic I am for being madly in love with you? You daft git! I would’ve done anything for you, Fred. Everyone but you could see that.” 

You grimaced as you continued, “Do you know how it feels to confess your love for someone and then finding them in bed with another woman not even a day later? Do you know how it feels to lose your best friend and the one you love all in a blink of an eye?” 

“Y/N, listen-”

“No, you listen,” you exhaled. In that small moment of silence, you faintly heard the crowd chanting, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” and you felt so guilty having this conversation during two of your closest friends’ magical night. You looked at Fred, “I was so happy that night, you know? We’ve been best friends for ages before that and you always told me that I was deserving of love. I never believed you until that night because Merlin, if I’m deserving of Fred Weasley then maybe I am deserving of love.” 

“You are,” he squeaked, trembling like your words were daggers stabbing him. 

You ignored him, “I felt so stupid after seeing you with Angelina because then I knew it was too good to be true. I couldn’t even bring myself to confront you about it.” 

“I-” you chuckled humorlessly, throat beginning to close up, “I wanted you, Fred. A-and obviously, you belonged to someone else and I just… I couldn’t be there anymore. I couldn’t be here anymore! How I managed to still be friends with Ginny or visit Charlie in Romania when I was there for work— knowing full well that I saw you every time I looked at them— without bursting into tears, I don’t know! But I left for me, Fred. I needed to put myself back together again.” 

“Y/N, if I had known you’re in love with me-”

“Was in love with you,” you corrected, although you didn’t know if what you were saying was the truth, “Was.” 

He flinched but continued, “-was in love with me, then I wouldn’t hav-”

“Wouldn’t have fucked her?” 

Fred faltered, your words twisting the knife that was already buried in his chest. He nodded sadly, “Yeah.” 

“Fred, you would’ve done it anyway.” 

“No, I wouldn’t!” he pleaded, rushing over to you. “I wouldn’t because I was in love with you! I’m still in love with you! Had I known you weren’t just saying that because we were going into war, I swear Y/N things would’ve been so different.” 

“Please save it,” you placed a hand on his chest, keeping him at arms distance. 

He grabbed your hand, bringing it to his lips as he peppered kisses to your knuckles. His tears touched your skin, the warmth of it making you shudder. You pulled your hand that he held closer to you, wanting to feel him near you, even just for a moment. You watched in despair as he murmured apologies into your skin. 

His eyes were closed, eyelashes touching the scar on the crease of your index finger. Fred looked at you through blurred vision, eyes red from crying and pleading. You couldn’t hear anything else but his sobs, the sounds from the wedding long forgotten. Fred whispered, not knowing if you were even listening to him anymore.

Please. Please. Please.

You stared at the boy in front of you in all his glory, vulnerable for you. Subconsciously you stroked his cheekbone with the pad of your thumb, humming as he nudged his face into your touch. Fred’s bottom lip quivered, twisting his head to kiss your palm. He whispered again.

Please. Please. Please.

“Freddie,” you finally spoke. You felt his lips twitch to a smile at the way his nickname still sounded so smooth rolling off your tongue, so sweet like honey. 

“Hm?” 

“I want to forgive you.”

“So please forgive me,” he said so softly you almost didn’t catch it.

You pulled your hand away, holding it close to your chest. You stared at each other, taking in each other’s presence for the first time in seven years. He looked more mature. The years you’ve spent apart were kind to him. He looked more handsome than ever. 

You stared at the scar on his eyebrow— the one that he got when he tried to teach you how to fly in your third year. You stared at his eyes— the same ones you used to dream about waking up next to in the morning. You stared at his lips— the ones that you had the pleasure to feel on yours on that forsaken night. 

“I want to forgive you,” you echoed, allowing yourself to bask in his presence one last time, “But I can’t, Fred.” 

Silence. 

“You-” you paused, collecting yourself before continuing. You looked up at the sky briefly, letting out a shaky breath, “You broke me. I have spent years trying to fix myself. All those years apart, all I’ve done is try to forget you but you’re everywhere, Fred. You’re the person in my dreams and in my nightmares all together. Everything reminds me of you.” 

“And I’d be lying to myself if I said I don’t love you because I do,” you confessed, now looking at him intently, “I fear that I’ll always love you. I fear that I’ll always be tied to you. I fear that you’re probably the love of my life and I hate the part of me that still hopes that you are.” 

“Because if love is supposed to feel like this— if love is supposed to hurt like this— then I’d rather not love anyone for the rest of my life,” you began to quiet down, wiping the tears on your cheeks. You started to walk back to the party, deciding that you’ve missed too much of the night already, “It was good to see you, Freddie.”

Fred watched as you retreated back to the party, a fake smile plastered on your face. He stood there in the dark, crying silently and blaming himself for the mistake he made seven years ago, as he watched the love of his life give up on him.

-

tags: @rexorangecouny

[filmflowersbangtan]

Dead of Night (preview)

pairing: gang member!jungkook x reader

genre: angst, fluff 

warnings: swearing | drug mention | gangs | in the full story, there will be violence, blood, fighting, threatening 

preview word count: 4k

you meet jungkook in a diner in the early morning where it’s just the two of you in the entire place. An interesting relationship ensues, and you find out he’s not who you thought he was. He’s a prominent member of the city’s most powerful gang, surrounded by danger and trouble. But you still want him.

--

author’s note: I sincerely apologize for being gone for so long and for not updating any of my fics. To everyone waiting on IMSWY pt. ii: I am so sorry for taking so long with it. It’s still in my WIPs, and I haven’t given up on it yet, but it is on the back burner right now since I have many other ideas bubbling up that I absolutely have to write or else they will probably internally set me aflame (lol). 

I will be deleting many of my fics soon. I will be keeping “Unbound,” “I Must Still Want You,” “Heartbreaker with a Heart of Gold,” and “Lonely Planets.” Everything else I will be deleting because I have no desire to finish working on them or I simply do not like them anymore and can’t see them going anywhere.

I also will probably not be writing anymore series. Everything will most likely be one shot because every time I start a series, I get too overwhelmed with the idea of updating parts and finishing them that I just end up postponing them for too long and leaving too many people who have been looking forward to them disappointed. I do want to say that I have been going through So Much since I last posted Lonely Planets pt. ii and IMSWY, but I am in a so so so much better place now. That’s why I’m even writing this story now.

This will be a oneshot. It will not be a series. It will be very long. I am almost finished with it, but I am posting this preview just to see if you all would like to continue reading it.

Thank you all. I appreciate all the feedback and the follows and the reblogs so, so much. The feedback and the reblogs of Heartbreaker with a Heart of Gold is what really motivated me to write this one. I hope you all enjoy it. 😊

--

Being alone was like an addiction. It was fulfilling and appealing and…well, lonely. 

Two in the morning diner stops during the weekdays had become routine. The place was completely empty save for a waitress and a cook and maybe a tired trucker. You tucked yourself in a booth in the back. The vinyl seats were cracked and uncomfortable, the lighting was stark and washed everything raw. But it was comforting. Sleep was evasive and your apartment was barely unpacked, boxes stacked haphazardly in the dining area and the mattress on the living room floor. It was your idea to move to this vast city far away from home. This city swallowed everything in its incessant noise. Nocturnal and teeming with cars and neon lights. It never rested and the two of you had that in common. You took solace in that. 

The air was thick with bacon grease and bitter black coffee. Every morning you had waffles and orange juice. The refills were free and the waffles were the exact same circumference as the plate underneath it. Time was stagnant here. The city pressed against the plate glass windows, but the reflections from inside barred its entry. If you looked out, you simply stared directly at yourself. Maybe there was some kind of metaphor in that. 

The night shift waitress, Bethany, set your plate of steaming waffles on the table as well as a glass syrup dispenser. She knew you by name and you thanked her for the food. She smiled sweetly and left you be. 

The door chimed, denoting the entry of another patron. You didn’t look up. Bethany greeted the person in her cheerful customer service voice. You knew she didn’t actually sound like that. Once, you glimpsed her smoking a cigarette by the dumpster at the back of the diner arguing with her boyfriend on her cell phone. She had a tired voice. You wondered if she was lonely, too.

As you ate, Bethany took the patron’s order. From where you sat, his voice was a mumble. “You got it!” Bethany said before breezing away.

You glanced up from your food at the patron. Hair dyed blond, dark brown at the roots. He had a gentle face and a mouth made for smiling or furtively suppressing them. Tattoos were stippled on his arm all the way down to his knuckles. He was staring down at his phone, his fingers were slender and embellished with many silver rings. He was impossibly handsome. A paragon of beauty. 

And he looked up. Right at you. Why was it at that moment you happened to notice him, he decided to notice you, too?

Your scalp prickled with hot embarrassment. You immediately averted your eyes back to your waffles. There was only a bite remaining. Good. You could finish, get your check, pay, and leave.

Boldly, you chanced another glimpse. He did, too. This time, a smile, broad and lovely, stretched across his face. It was endearing and intimate and you had never felt so seen. It was exhilarating. A small smile crept onto your mouth. You couldn’t help it. His smile was contagious. 

This was how the following hour went. Weighted glances and secret smiles from across the room. He received his food, and he picked up his plate and mug of coffee and…was he coming this way?

You watched him, eyes wide, as he sauntered over to your booth and set his items on your table. “May I sit?” he said. His voice was the perfect match to his face. Smooth, sonorous, soft. Crushed velvet. 

Jerkily, like you had never done it before, you nodded. He sat. “Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” you replied. 

“I’m Jungkook.”

You told him your name. He repeated it once, twice, thrice. Like he enjoyed the feel of it in his mouth, rolling it around like a piece of hard candy he didn’t want to dissolve on his tongue just yet. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He reached his hand over the table. You smiled and shook it. 

His plate was piled with pancakes and sausages and scrambled eggs. He dug in. In between bites, he asked, “So what brings you here at this time of night?” “I have trouble sleeping. And you?” Your chest was tight with the awkwardness of it all, but he appeared to be perfectly at ease. 

“I’m just a night owl. Or I’m a vampire.” He shrugged nonchalantly as he continued eating.

Surprisingly, laughter bubbled from you until you couldn’t help the giggles that shook you. How long had it been since you had a conversation with anyone? Your store had been a drought for the past month, only a couple of people coming in a day. You didn’t call home because your parents would ask how you’ve been, and that topic lit a fire in your skull. Bethany was just a waitress doing her job. And Nora was always busy. It was refreshing to have someone sit with you. Talk with you. Want to be near you. 

His eyes danced at the sound of your laughter. It was an innocuous expression, boyish in how pure it was. 

You covered your mouth with your hands to mask the laughter. And he gently grabbed your wrist and removed them. “I like your laugh.”

Butterflies unfurled their wings in your stomach and fluttered in a frantic cluster. He resumed his meal as if nothing happened. “So what do you do?”

You cleared your throat. “I own a used book and record store downtown. It’s small and kind of hidden from the street, but it’s there.” You chuckled nervously. You were proud of that store, but you might have to close it down soon and return to your hometown with your tail tucked in between your legs if the revenue continued as it did. 

His eyebrows shot up. “Wow. That’s super cool. I like records. Books, not so much. Where is it located?”

You told him the address. “By that bodega on the corner.”

“The one that sells the really good blue raspberry shaved ice?”

You snapped your fingers. “That’s the one.”

“I’ll definitely have to stop by.” 

This was how the next few hours went. Talking about everything and nothing. He had lived in the city his entire life, worked as a freelance artist, had an apartment not too far away. Plates had been swept away by Bethany long ago. Refills poured, drained, and poured again.

And then, “Do you maybe want to get out of here? Kick it at my place?” Jungkook asked. His expression was open and genuine. 

You didn’t know if that was a good idea. But talking to him was stimulating and you didn’t want it to end. 

He noticed your hesitation. “Turn you location on your phone, I’ll even give you my address so you can send it to your friends. Anything to make you feel comfortable.”

He was right. He didn’t live that far. It was barely past five o’ clock in the morning, the city was still awake, billboards alight. The buildings towered, dark against the predawn blue of the sky. The apartment building was modest and typical of the city. Clean and affordable but just expensive enough to be appealing to a specific demographic of college students and those with decent enough jobs. His apartment was on the third floor and was charming with brick walls and high ceilings. There was a bookshelf packed with vinyl records, even more in milk crates. A record player in pristine condition sat on an end table beside an armchair. 

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Jungkook said, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it on a hook beside the front door. 

“You said you liked records,” you replied, browsing his collection. 

“I did.”

“This isn’t liking records. This is a goddamn treasure trove.” You pushed your hair behind your ear, eager to move it from your face. “Bowie, Billie Holiday, Bob Dylan, Prince. You even have a rare version of Hendrix’s Electric Ladyland. With the naked women! This is incredible.” 

He laughed. “I see you are a woman of taste.” 

“If only my dad could see this. I’m afraid to touch anything.” 

“I’m sure you don’t have clumsy hands with records. Since you have a record store and all.”

You laughed. “I appreciate the trust.”

“So what would you like to listen to?”

You mulled it over, taking your time examining the sleeves of the records. Then you found one.

He smiled when you showed him the cover art. “Perfect.” 

Frank Ocean’s Blond. A modern classic. Perfect for the liminal hour of five AM. 

Jungkook slipped it from its sleeve, fingers on the slim rounded edges of the record. He carefully settled it on the turntable, placed the needle on the disc, and played the album. There was the classic crackle of vinyl, and then the first track emanated. It was a phantasm of sound, rich and ethereal. Light but weighted. The song was the deep blue of the sky before the sun decided to pull itself above the horizon and emblazon the sky with its myriad of colors. It was the perfect song for this liquid moment that felt like a dream. This beautiful stranger standing before you with his incredible collection. 

And then you were in Jungkook’s arms, slowly swaying to the music. You smiled up at him and him down at you. 

The album continued on in the living room, serenading to no one. You and Jungkook had moved to the bedroom, lounging on the bed. The horizon blushed peach, casting the room in half-light. You both lay on your backs, him with an arm slung casually behind his head, you with your hands folded delicately on your stomach. 

“Thank you for paying for my meal today,” you said to him meekly. 

He smiled. “Thank you for the great conversation. And having an amazing taste in music.” 

You laughed. “What made you come sit with me anyway?”

That was when he looked at you, his mouth still slung in a smile, but his eyes sincere. “Because you’re beautiful.”

Your cheeks went hot and you giggled nervously, covering it with your hands. He rolled over and carefully removed them, his eyes on yours. For a brief moment, time was still. Your breath caught in your throat. He was so close. His lips were so close. Your noses were just barely brushing. His voice was husky when he said, “I like your laugh.”

And then he kissed you. 

In the living room, Frank Ocean sang about nights and new beginnings. 

In the bedroom, you and Jungkook were breathless. Hands on thighs. Hands in hair. Teeth on collarbones. It was a innocent hunger, one that never got too peckish. He was careful with you, didn’t dare to remove your clothes. “I like you,” he breathed into your neck. You gasped at the sensation. 

You kissed until you both eventually succumbed to sleep, the morning sun pouring drowsy golden light across the room.

It was well into the afternoon when you woke to the sound of a shower running. The room was unfamiliar. Definitely not your barren apartment with the boxes strewn about the place. And you definitely weren’t on your living room mattress tangled amongst its waves of sheets. The bed you were in was the most comfortable you’ve ever experienced. Brick walls, plants, beautiful abstract canvas paintings leaning against the wall. Then you remembered. 

The diner. The vinyl collection. The sunrise. The kiss. 

Jungkook. 

He was in the shower and you were fully dressed and the night had to have been a dream. But it wasn’t. Reality settled back onto your shoulders in agonizing waves. You were hours late opening the store. But oh, you wanted to burrow into these soft, sweet-smelling sheets and dissolve into nothing. Eventually you got up. 

The door to the bathroom was open. You thought about telling him you were leaving, but instead, you drew your name and number into the mirror steam and went home to shower and change yourself.

An entire week went by and he never called. He didn’t return to the diner, either. It hurt. Every time you lay on your side, willing yourself to sleep, the phantom feeling of his hands and lips barreled you at such an unwelcome rush you would gasp. None of it was real. You had to keep telling yourself that. None of it was real. 

Life went back to normal. Jungkook was a fleeting daydream that sifted in and out of your thoughts. The store still barely got any customers, except for the same two or three crate diggers who visited like ghosts. And then Nora, your best friend, breezed through the door. She was a city girl through and through. Large sunglasses, the omnipresent iced coffee, the expensive wardrobe curated specifically for being in front of a camera. She was partly why you moved here. The two of you were from the same hometown, and she had escaped first to chase the tail of a fashion designer career. 

“Move here!” she had said during a phone call. “You’ll love it. You’re super hipster and this city eats that shit up! And you can open up that record and book store you always dreamed of.” 

She wasn’t wrong. You loved this city but this city seemed to not love you back. Now, she pushed her sunglasses up into her hair and set her iced coffee on the counter top before you. You were sitting behind the register, feet up and reading a book when she had come in. You looked up from the paperback in your hands. “And what have I done to deserve your presence, Your Highness?”

“Good morning, dork! We’re going to a party.”

You kicked your feet down. Slipped a bookmark in the book and closed it. And you simply said, “No.”

She blinked, her smile stiff. “Why not?” 

“You know I have to open this place every single morning. I can’t go to a party and get drunk and miss another opening.”

“Stop making this store your entire life.”

“It is my entire life.”

“Well, live another one. Just for one night.” She clasped her hands together and actually pouted. “Please.”

You sighed. “You don’t have anyone else to go with?”

She perked up and tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Oh, I do. I just want you to go with me. I want you to have fun for once. All you’ve done since you been here was work.”

Every single dollar and penny from your savings went to this store. It was your lifelong dream. And Nora—lovely, naïve Nora—had never needed to work for anything a day in her life. She meant well. She was never intentionally ignorant. But that didn’t make it any less frustrating. 

She also didn’t know of your time with Jungkook. It was embarrassing that he never called. It angered you that he called you beautiful and said he liked you only for it all to be false. Thank goodness you didn’t have sex with him. 

“I’ll have fun once I’m a millionaire or something,” you said to Nora.

She huffed. “I can find you someone to cover the shop for the night. You won’t even have to pay them. Please just come with me.”

“No. What if they steal something.”

She stared at you flatly. “Do you really think any of my friends—my friends—would steal? Let alone steal any of this stuff? No offense.” 

“Why do you want me to go so badly?”

“I already said. Fun. You know, music, drinks, guys.” She sang the last word and accompanied it with a little shimmy. 

“I have plenty of music and I can buy my own drinks.”

She slammed her hand against the counter top, startling you. “Stop being fucking difficult and come have some fun with me.”

So, grudgingly, you went. Albeit late because you didn’t trust anyone else to close the shop for you, but you went nonetheless. Nora did your makeup. Just glitter eyeshadow and a little eyeliner because you insisted you didn’t want much. And she picked out your outfit—a black lace bra, a crop top cardigan, and a pair of white shorts. 

“Because I can’t dress myself?” you grumbled, sliding on the clothes. 

“Exactly that. You dress too…hipster-y. You need to be hot for tonight.” 

You hadn’t worn that bra since you dated Namjoon. He was pretentious and arrogant and such a city boy it made you lightheaded. You met when he waltzed into the store shortly after you moved here. He smiled at you and you practically melted. The books were what he came for. He bought a Russian classic novel and at checkout, he discussed with you the allegory of sharing fruit in literature. He was eloquent and intelligent and so damn gorgeous you fell for him in that same moment. He scribbled his number on the receipt and told you to keep it. 

The relationship lasted for four months. He suggested you move into his high rise apartment downtown with him. It was a modern edifice, all glass and steel and money. He was the wealthiest person you had ever met in your life. And, stupidly, you were in love. 

And then you saw his text messages with some unfairly beautiful girl he followed on social media about how good she looked in his bed . He said he was lonely, that you worked too much, what else was he supposed to do? Needless to say, you left him. And you hadn’t seen him since. 

Now, Nora said to you, “And don’t think about wearing those fucking platform boots.”

“Why not?” you said, frowning. “They’re cute.”

“They look ridiculous. Like those boots that one goth girl from that cartoon you like wore.” 

You grinned, mischievous. “That’s exactly why I bought them.”

To Nora’s dismay, you wore the fucking platform boots. 

The party was in an underground venue. It wasn’t all red wine and an elaborate excuse to brag about money, like the gatherings Namjoon liked, it was edgy. A live band played pop punk on a stage, the lights in the place were dim save for the spotlights and the white Christmas lights behind the bar. Greasy pizza and liquor and neon lights. You brushed elbows with someone smoking a joint, and you were pretty sure someone was doing coke in the bathroom. 

Nora pulled you to the bar where she ordered herself a cocktail and you a craft beer. She knew you so well. 

There were so many people here. You mentally kicked yourself for not bringing flyers for your store. 

And then you saw him. Nora was talking your ear off about how hot the frontman for the band was and you almost choked on your beer. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you spat.

Nora blinked rapidly. “What? What happened?”

“This is why you brought me here. You cunt.” You didn’t mean to call her that. It wasn’t a word worn with frequent use in your vocabulary. In fact, you hated the word. But it was deserved in this situation. 

Namjoon. He was standing near the stage with a craft beer of his own in his hand, bobbing his head to the music. He didn’t like places like this. They were tacky to him. He didn’t even listen to this genre of music. What the hell was he doing here? 

The girl standing next to him turned to him and smiled. She was wearing lipstick as red as murder and her bob was so black it reflected the lights with an envious luster. She had a septum piercing, the two silver balls glittering in the low light like two tiny stars. That’s when it clicked. He was here because of her. She was that unfairly beautiful girl in his text messages. Your skin felt incandescent. 

“He had to see how hot you are. I thought you would enjoy shoving that in his face.” Lovely, naïve Nora. You wanted to slap her. 

You stood from the bar stool and set your craft beer on the bar. “I’m leaving now.”

Her face was slack with regret. Before she could form an apology, you turned and walked away. 

You were a few moments from the door when you heard your name. It wasn’t Nora. You stopped and your breath hitched. Your turned slowly, preparing to see Namjoon with that girl by his side but instead—

“Jungkook?”

His hair was black now and almost as shiny as that girl’s bob. It hung past his ears in gentle waves. He stood there in a baggy black shirt and jeans, his thumbs tucked into the front pockets. Silver bracelets draped from both wrists. In this lighting, he looked ethereal. Infernal. This couldn’t be the same man you shared a chimerical morning with. He looked like he had been created by the darkness of the city’s nights. 

Maybe it was just the hair. 

“Hi,” he said in the same way he did when he sat your table at the diner. It could’ve been mistaken as sheepishness, but his eyes were not meek. Besides the hair, you couldn’t figure out what was so different about him. 

Breathlessly, you said, “Hi.”

“You look nice.” 

Over his shoulder, you noticed Namjoon go to the bar. Nora scowled at him. He smiled amicably at her and his mouth moved, saying something. She froze, and her eyes immediately darted to you. Namjoon turned and saw you. And he started your way. 

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asked.

You should’ve ran out of the venue. There were a million other things you should’ve done, but instead you grabbed Jungkook and kissed him. 

Initially, he went rigid with shock, but he melted into the kiss. You felt him smile against your mouth. “Miss me that much?”

You pulled away. “I did not.” A glance over his shoulder and Namjoon was gone. You audibly exhaled. 

“What happened?” 

You ran a hand over your face. “Ex.”

“Ah,” he said. “Is that why you were leaving?”

“Yes. And now I’m going. Goodbye.” You whirled around, shoulders tense with embarrassment and headed for the stairs. 

“Wait.” He caught up to you on the stairs. “Can I go with?” There were small white string lights strung in the stairwell and the glow reflected in his eyes. They were so brown. 

“Don’t you have friends to be with?” Your phone buzzed in your back pocket with an incoming text message. Most likely your own friend dying to know who the guy you just kissed was. You ignored it. 

“They’ll be fine.” He grinned. 

“Okay,” you said, feeling yourself smile as well.

There was no destination, but you ended up at a park, sitting beside each other on a swing set. Your feet dragged in the wood chips as you pushed yourself back and forth slowly. He looked up at the night sky and sighed. “Do you want to know why I hadn’t called?”

You just looked at him. 

“This may sound like a corny excuse, but… I was afraid of what you would think of me.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

He hesitated before saying, “If we continued seeing each other, you would eventually find out that I’m not a freelance artist. I do paint, but that’s not what I do.”

You could feel your heartbeat gradually speeding its pace. “What do you do?” His eyes fell down to his hands. He turned them over, studying the lines in his palms. His hair slipped over his eyes. He was a portrait of affliction. “I’m a Lost Boy.”

You didn’t understand. He noticed your silence and looked up at you. “The Lost Boys. This city is practically run by them.” He corrected himself, “Ran by us.” He stopped, closed his eyes, and sighed. “I’m in a gang.”

Your voice was a whisper. “What?”  

He quickly added, “If you no longer want to associate with me, I understand. They’re—we’re—dangerous. I mean, even if you haven’t heard of us, you know us. The leather jackets, the vandalism, the fights. That venue is owned by us. The drugs at that event were supplied by us. That band playing is in our pockets. My apartment is paid by dirty money.” He laughed quietly to himself then, almost pityingly. 

The night air around you was thick with your own dread. “Is being around you dangerous?” You hadn’t meant for your voice to sound so small.

“I won’t hurt you, if that’s what you’re asking.” You could hear the unsaid “but” in his tone. 

“But what?” you prompted.

He chewed on his lip. A dimple in his left cheek appeared. “I won’t hurt you, but I can’t promise your safety. If you do decide to be around me.”

--

[es-kay-zee]

Fire Alarm pt 2 | Kim Seungmin x Reader

Warnings: Soft Dom!Seungmin, female reader, choking, sir kink, unprotected sex, swearing, slight overstimulation

Word count: 3.5k

__________________________

Finding his bed empty of you was not what Seungmin was expecting when he woke up the next morning. He wasn’t sure just what time you left, but he knew that more than just his bed felt empty without you there. His heart also felt hollow.

Seungmin’s internal emptiness worsened over the next few weeks as you did everything you could to avoid him. It had become a very rare occurrence for you to see him on your way to your room, but when it did happen, you would speed up, ignoring him as you passed. He would try calling out to you, wanting to question why you were being so distant. It wasn’t like you guys were especially close before you had sex with each other, but that didn’t mean your cold actions didn’t hurt Seungmin.

Most nights he lay in bed, wondering what happened. Wondering if there was something he said, or something he did during the course of that night that made you hate him before he would finally drift off into a restless sleep. He hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep since you slept next to him.

On the other hand, you lay in bed each night wondering why you were being such a coward. Why you didn’t have the courage to walk up to Seungmin and tell him how you feel. You already had a small crush on him before, but that night really amplified your feelings. There was something about the way he smiled at you after the mind-blowing sex, something about the way he offered for you to stay, about the way he hugged you into his body in his sleep.

A part of you wishes that you’d stayed that morning. That you hadn’t snuck out at 5am. His arms around you made it more difficult for you to leave, so why did you?

You were scared.

Every single one of your past relationships, your past crushes, had all ended badly; had ended with you getting hurt. You didn’t want that to happen with Seungmin. So, you left. And decided that you would never speak to him again in the desperate hope that this attraction towards him would vanish. Unfortunately, it hadn’t. If anything, you were just left feeling hollow. Like something was missing.

You’d only really spoken to him a handful of times and slept with him the once, so why did you feel so lost without him? Why did you feel so empty?

God, you felt pathetic. Missing a boy that you knew very little about, other than that he makes your heart skip a few beats when you make eye contact with him. But there’s no way he feels the same towards you, right?

Still, no matter how much you missed him, no matter how much you wanted to talk to him, you couldn’t bring yourself to. You refused to have your heart broken by him telling you that he didn’t feel the same things towards you.

Seungmin had been getting restless these last few days. Wanting nothing more than to talk to you. It was really getting to him, to the point where he’d even skipped a couple classes in the hopes that he’d manage to speak to you. It wasn’t like he could focus during class anyway.

He knew it wasn’t healthy, missing you this much. Especially considering he didn’t know much about you. But what he did know from the few times he had talked to you in the past, was that you absolutely adore your family, and he knew that you lit up like the sun when talking about your passion for photography. But it was like there was something about you that drew him in, that made it so hard for him to be away from you.

That’s why he made a deal with himself; the next time he saw you, he’d make you stop and listen to him. Not in a way that would stop you from getting away if you truly wanted to, but every other time he’d tried it was mostly just him calling out your name to get your attention. This time he would try harder.

So, when he saw you walking towards your room one evening a few days later, he approached you.

“Y/n, wait up,” he says, getting closer to you.

You can hear your heartbeat drumming in your ears as he nears, nerves coursing through your veins. Speeding up your already hurried steps, you try to get away from him. But it doesn’t work. He catches up and, before you can even process how close he is, one of his hands reaches out to gently grab your arm.

He pulls you to a stop, but not turning you to face him. Not yet. You take a few deep breaths, a feeble attempt to calm yourself.

“Y/n, please talk to me.” Seungmin’s voice makes you flinch, your entire body on edge. You look up from the ground, seeing your room’s door not too far ahead of you. It wouldn’t take much effort to escape Seungmin’s soft grip and quickly reach the confines of your bedroom. But there’s a part of you that stops you, the part that yearns for Seungmin, the part that wanted to stay in his arms the morning you left. The part that wants to be in his arms all the time.

You take another deep breath, readying yourself to face him before you turn around.

“Okay,” you reply, voice quiet as your eyes lock with his. You can tell that he definitely wasn’t expecting to get this far, that he was entirely prepared for you to just walk away and continue to ignore him for the rest of your lives. But he’s pleasantly surprised at your response.

“Do you wanna come to my room to chat? Or we could go to your room, if that’s more comfortable for you,” he offers, releasing your arm and instead scratching the back of his neck.

“Uh, yeah, sure. We can go to my room,” you say, starting to lead the way to your room. Seungmin follows behind you quietly, the silence between you both somewhere between neutral and uncomfortable. It was impossible to ignore the tension between the two of you, and it only worsened when finally reaching and entering you room.

There was something so intimate about letting Seungmin into your bedroom. Letting him see something so personal, as if your bedroom were a gateway for him to see into the innermost workings of your soul. The figurines of your favourite anime characters, the various novels lining your small bookshelf, your various cameras lined up along your desk, every small detail that gives Seungmin a closer glimpse at the person you are, what makes you your own person. The posters on your walls, the small decorating details everywhere, they all make him fall for you even more.

Once the door is closed, the both of you take a seat on the bed. You rest your hands in your lap, twirling them around slowly in anticipation of the coming conversation. The silences between you both continues, neither of you wanting to be the one to break it.

“So…” you begin, the deafening quiet beginning to suffocate you. “What do you wanna talk about?”

You cringe at your own question, both you and Seungmin knowing full-well what the conversation will be about.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” he asks, getting right to the point.

“I haven’t.” It’s a lie and you both know it, and if he wasn’t already aware of the blatant untruth, then he would have been able to guess by the small crack in your voice.

“Please don’t lie to me, y/n. I just want to know why.”

“Seungmin, I-”

“Did I do something wrong?” he cuts you off, unable to hold back his burning question, and for the first time since entering your room, you look him in the eyes. And the look on his face hurts. His eyes are watery, on the verge of releasing the backed-up tears, and his lips are pulled into a small pout. He looks like it’s taking everything in him to not cry in front of you.

Instinctively, your hands reach out to grab his, your thumbs soothingly rubbing the backs of his hands.

“Hey, no, of course you didn’t do anything wrong, Seungmin,” you say, wanting nothing less than for him to cry.

Your hands on his surprises him, but he’s more focused on you saying his name. He’s caught up on the way it rolls so naturally off your tongue, absolutely in love with the sound.

“Then please tell me why you’re avoiding me. I really like you and I don’t want to lose you just because we slept together.”

His words leave you in shock. ‘I really like you’. Did you hear that right? He likes you?

Seungmin pauses, shocked that he said that aloud. How could he let it slip that he liked you? Now he’s just made a fool of himself.

“Y-you like me?”

Your voice is no higher than a whisper, not entirely sure that you heard him correctly.

“No- Wait- That’s not-, I-” he stutters, struggling to find a way to back-track.

“So, you don’t like me?” you cut him off again, the disappointment clear in the way your shoulders slouch slightly and pull away from him, wrapping your arms around yourself for comfort.

“What? No. That’s not what I mean. I do like you; I just didn’t mean to say it. I know you don’t feel the same way…” His voice trails off near the end, growing quieter and quieter with each word spoken.

He raises his head, his eyes meeting yours, and he looks ready to cry again.

A small giggle escapes your lips at the absurdity of the situation, finding it a bit funny that you both were under the impression that feelings weren’t mutual. Seungmin, however, misreads your laughter, instead believing that you were cruel enough to laugh at him for liking you.

“You don’t have to be so mean,” he says, and his words have your laughter dying down.

“No, no, no, no, no I’m not being mean, not at all.” The last few giggles leave you ask you speak.

“Then why are you laughing?”

“Because I just find it so funny that we both like each other but neither of us were saying anything. I feel ridiculous for avoiding you.”

You watch Seungmin’s reaction as your words sink in, him slowly realising you’ve just admitted that you like him back.

“Wait, you like me?” he asks, repeating your earlier question back to you, wanting clarification before continuing anything.  

“I do,” you nod, and Seungmin brings one of his hands to cup your cheek.

Your skin burns under his touch, the contact has your heart racing even faster than it already was. You watch Seungmin swallow, his eyes switching back and forth between your own and your lips.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers.

“Please do.”

And with that, his lips were pressing against yours. The kiss is sweeter than anything you’ve ever experienced, Seungmin trying his best to put all of his feelings forward, wanting you to feel how much he likes you. And you do. You can feel his emotions in the way his lips move slowly with yours, the way his hands cup your cheeks.

He pulls back after a while, leaning his forehead against yours.

“So, you’re telling me that I could have been kissing you sooner if I’d confessed that night?”

“Or if I didn’t avoid you like the plague,” you reply, giggling softly when he places a small kiss to the tip of your nose.

“Well then, I guess we have to make up for the lost time?” he whispers, eyes looking into yours. His question sounded innocent enough, but you could tell the underlying meaning. You move to straddle his lap, resting your hands on the back of his neck while his own hands move to your hips.

“I guess we do,” you reply.

You press your lips back to his in a deeper kiss than the last one, your fingers lacing through his hair and tugging slightly. He groans at the pull, his own hands beginning to roam along your sides, occasionally gripping your shirt in his fists.

The kiss deepens even further, and your hips uncontrollably begin to grind down against Seungmin’s. You both moan at the friction, and you can feel him grow hard under you. His fingers start to toy with the hem of your shirt, itching to remove the obstructing cloth.

You pulled back from him, lifting your shirt up and off by yourself before diving back into the kiss. His hands immediately resume exploring your skin, fingertips dancing along the skin of your back and sides. His touch leaves goosebumps in their wake and you almost find yourself already begging for more.

His hands find rest upon the clasp of your bra, once again wanting the clothing gone. He pauses the kiss, looking you in the eye to ask your permission.

“Can I?”

“Yes, sir.”

Your use of his desired nickname ignites something in him, and you quickly find yourself laying on your back upon your bed, bra removed and tossed to the other side of your room. His lips attach to the soft expanse of your throat, sucking dark hickies into the flesh. One of his hands massages your breast – while the other holds his weight – and his thumbs traces over your sensitive nipple, eliciting breathy moans from you. His lips move downwards, briefly tugging on your other bud before continuing lower. His kisses trail down your stomach until he reaches the top of your jeans. He pauses, looking at you for permission and he unbuttons them once he receives the affirmation, tugging the clothing down and off of you.

He groans at the sight in front of him; you, laying naked bar your underwear. His fingers immediately begin to run up and down your covered pussy, and you moan at the contact. Fuck, you’d missed this. You’d only experienced him once, but that didn’t mean you weren’t craving his touch the entire time you’d been avoiding him.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” Seungmin says, feeling your slick through your soaked underwear.

“O-only for you,” you reply as he removes your underwear as well, Seungmin now having an unobstructed view of your dripping folds.

You flinch slightly when his breath hits your core, and he has little hesitation in running his tongue up your entrance. Your hands shoot down, quickly tangling themselves in his soft hair as a way to ground yourself. At the sound of your quiet whines, Seungmin begins to truly dive in, sucking and nibbling at your clit.

Your hips buck upwards, trying to gain even more friction, but Seungmin is having none of that. One of his arms lays across your waist, pinning your hips down against the bed.

"Stay still." You immediately stop trying to move your hips, instead staying still while Seungmin continues to pleasure you.

He brings his free hand to your core, fingers prodding at your entrance before sliding a couple in and your back arches at the intrusion.

His fingers thrust in and out, biceps flexing with each move. Digits curling every now and then, pressing against the spot that has your knot tightening. His lips continue their assault against your clit, teeth gently grazing against the bud.

"S-Seungmin, I'm g-gonna-" you warn, but he's already well aware of how close you are, so he sucks extra harshly at your bundle of nerves to push you over the edge.

Your entire body shakes as you cum, legs twitching on either side of Seungmin's head and a loud moan tumbling out of your mouth. His fingers continue moving inside you, riding out your high, only pulling away once you come down.

He moves back up your body, colliding his lips with yours once again and letting you taste yourself. Seungmin moves away from you again, removing his clothes and settling back into his position above you.

He takes his cock in his hand, rubbing the head up and down your slit. You whine, your impatience getting the better of you as you buck your hips up in an attempt to get him to enter you.

"Stop moving," he orders, hands moving to your hips, his grip tight enough to bruise.

Your submissiveness shows itself when you do as he says, stilling your movements immediately.

Please, sir," you beg, wanting little more than to have him deep inside you already.

Seungmin looks down at you, his eyes taking in your fucked out expression. He slowly begins pushing into you, and your breath hitches at the stretch. It's only when he's fully bottomed out that you try to calm your breathing again.

“Holy shit, I f-forgot how tight you are,” he says breathily, attempting to catch his own breath.

He remains still inside you, struggling to maintain his composure. But when you clench your walls around him in an attempt to get him to move, all sense of self-control is thrown out the window. His thrusts are swift and forceful, already bringing you towards the precipice of pleasure. Your panting is loud, throat dry at the constant flow of air. The knot in your stomach is coiling tight once more, but there’s still something missing.

“Please,” you say, barely able to speak through the dryness of your throat.

“Please what?” Seungmin asks, not entirely sure what you’re asking for.

“Please choke me.”

“Oh? Did my precious baby like getting choked last time?” He’s just teasing you now, but he still brings one of his hand to your throat, fingers wrapping around gently, applying only a little pressure. “Like this?”

You shake your head ‘no’ as much as you can, desperate for more.

“Harder.”

His grip on your throat tightens, much harsher than before. And it’s perfect; the way you can still breathe, but only just enough. Seungmin’s pace doesn’t slow, and you revel in the hushed moans that he can’t hold back, happy to know you’re the one making him feel so good. His free hand moves to your chest again, pinching one of your perked nipples, twisting and rolling the bud between his fingers. His skilled touch was giving you a new-found appreciation for his hands.

The knot tightens impossible tighter, threatening to snap at any moment, and Seungmin can tell. The was you’re clenching around him uncontrollably, the way your legs shake, and the whimpers that leave your delicate lips.

“Can I- C-can- please,” you babble, struggling to get your words out, but luckily, Seungmin could tell what you’re trying to ask. He leans down, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he continues to pound into you relentlessly.

“Cum for me, baby. Be a good girl and cum for me, yeah?”

His words are all you need to unravel, your back arching as you cum all over his cock. His hand leaves your chest, instead clamping over your mouth to silence your loud moans, him not sure if you wanted those in the neighbouring bedrooms to hear you. He doesn’t slow his thrusts, riding out your high and chasing his own pleasure. You whine as the overstimulation begins to set in once you’ve recovered from your second orgasm. The whines turn to whimpers as it slowly becomes too much, and he pulls his hand away from your throat.

“Almost there, y/n. You’re doing so well for me, yeah? So, so well,” he says, his hips beginning to stutter as he nears his own end. And it only takes a couple more thrusts for Seungmin to finish, painting your walls white. He slowly pulls out, checking you over to make sure you’re okay. He loves how you look right now, chest still heaving, throat and collarbones littered with dark hickies, cheeks flushed. You look beautiful. Seungmin can’t help the way his heart swells at the sight, absolutely adoring how you look.

He lays down next to you, pulling you into his chest and running his finger slowly through your hair. Even though he only got to do it once before, he truly missed holding you.

“So,” he begins, a smile on his face. “Does this mean you’ll go on an actual date with me?”

You look up at him, eyes sparkling with a joy that can’t be contained. “Of course it does.”

Seungmin can’t hide it as his smile grows impossibly wide, feeling so happy at the confirmation that he finally gets to go out with you. He hugs you tight as he peppers your face with kisses.

“How about, tomorrow night? We can put together a picnic and go cloud watching or something. We could chat for a while, get to know each other better. Fall in love.”

“That sounds perfect,” you giggle at his last statement, enjoying how happy he is.

You’re not sure if you and Seungmin are gonna end up in love, but who know. You could. For the moment, at least, you like each other. And whether or not this ends up with you both in love doesn’t matter. That’s for future thought. Right now, all that matters is that you finally have each other.